Monday, March 23, 2009

The Peruvian Andes Take Our Breath Away...Literally

Only two weeks left in South America. Time is a funny thing - it feels as though we just left the States and here we are about to return to California. We will live and work in Sonoma County for a couple of months before departing internationally once again. Traveling has become an ideal lifestyle, indeed.

Our days continue to be one adventure after the next, a perfect petrie dish for life in the present moment. Right now we are in the Andes mountains on the doorstep of the Cordilerra Blanca, the highest mountain range in the world next to the Himalayas. Our adobe-made bed and breakfast is located at the foot of a 23,000 foot snow-covered peak named Huascaran. It's run by a couple of Canadian expats who have a passion for sustainable and eco-friendly living, from reusing waste, organic gardening, natural home building ingredients and employing the local indigenous men and women to help around the property.

Yesterday we took a hike to Laguna 69 with Stuart and Lynva from Scotland/Britian who are also enjoying the lifestlye of travel. Little did we know it would take four hours to get there navigating around (sometimes over) bucket-sized potholes, mudslides and barking dogs. These meanies ran 20km per hour alongside our taxi, snarling and yapping, darting in front of us so we had to break and swerve. Not that fun of a drive, but practicing my Spanish with our driver, Jose, made me forget about my mounting headache and sloshing stomach during random intervals.

The warm equatorial sun followed us directly overhead for 8km as we traversed a meadow covered in bright yellow, blue and purple wildflowers. The jagged, snow-covered peaks of the Andes showed off for us in the quebrada (valley created by a glacier) while we passed saw-mouthed cows. We made the climb upwards on granite cliffsides to reach the next plateau, our pace slowing and our chests constricting from the high altitude of 16,000 feet. I poured us some coca tea made from fresh leaves. Yes, cocaine is made from the same plant, but the stem, not the leaves, and is highly processed to become the illicit drug. Pure coca, much like hemp, is the natural derivative, legal, and has been used in the highlands for hundreds of years to help altitude sickness, curb hunger and give a boost of natural energy. Admittedly, Andy and I are in pretty good shape but it doesn't matter - we had pounding headaches moving to the point of absolute exhaustion. We drank two liters of water each and still had thirst. Here, even when I take the stairs two at a time up to our room I am out of breath. It's a novel and odd feeling...we are now taking it easy for a couple days. (Bootleg DVDs...yeah!)

Finally, we could see a sliver of bright turquoise that morphed into a giant, pristine glacial lake. Two loud waterfalls poured down from Mt. Chacraraju (about 19,000 feet) staring at us from directly above, doused in perfectly white snow. The contrast of the yellow and purple wildflowers and green grasses on the shoreline to the topaz-hued lake, the grey granite rock wall, angelic mountain peaks and sapphire blue sky was absolute magic. We simply crashed down on a rock and stared in awe at this unimaginable piece of nature.

Though quite a bit colder, the highlands are my favorite place in Peru. One of my best memories while hiking in this remote area is watching the indiginous women as sheep herders, traversing the rocky landscape with stick in hand. As we draw nearer, we can see the details on their hats, each with a specific color, shape and design depending on the community they are from. Most speak a tongue of their native language of Quichoa and Spanish. Each also wear a unique set of clothing, for example a white collared blouse and red sweater with a wide purple knee-length skirt, white socks and black loafers. It's so interesting and different than anything I have seen in the US - a primitive perseverence tightly knitted by community and tradition. Here at the B&B, I am enjoying talking with a few girls from the local community who are new to work here and admittedly having some difficulty learning the "western way" of serving guests. I can't help myself smiling widely right back at them when we make eye contact. They have such a peaceful and simple existence that warms my heart. I feel millions of miles away from California.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

From Relaxation to a Rough Road - continued (Chapter 2)

With our trusty Lonely Planet - South America on a Shoestring book, we had just enough info to know what cities we needed to aim for to get to Huaraz and our Andean salvation. Beyond that we were just 2 gringos looking for help. That is what we got from a nice young women grasping what we found out was her first born child. From Trujillo we could take a bus from a company called Movis tours to Huarez. A nice bus, similar to El Dorado. Next a taxi driver found us after a morning sink bath in the bano and offered us a ride to wherever. There are pre-Incan ruins and the oldest known abode complex in the Americas nearby by at Chan Chan, but we were beelining to Huaraz dammit.

We got to Movis and found out that the next and only bus to Huaraz did not depart until 9 en la noche (night). It was 6:30 in the morning right NOW! Crapola. Chan Chan...? We thought maybe until our driver told us we could take ht America bus company to Chimbote, a fishing town 2 hours south (the right direction at least). From there we could catch another bus to Huaraz. Do it. Do it. We were off and arrived at America as the bus´engine started to grumble. For 8 soles ($2.50) each we were on the bus. They played (as they often do on these South American bus rides) a Hollywood action film in espanol of course. I watched a bank robbery with Jason Stathom. He´s a bald guy so maybe that´s why I dug it so much ,)

2 hours later we arrived in the fishy, cebiche (ceviche)-selling village of Chimbote at the bus terminal. We were again helped in teh right direction. This time to the Yungay ticket window where we saw the dry erase board schedule for 8:30 departure to Huaraz. It was 9:15. Damn! But, the nice lady was not concerned and made a call. We could catch up with the bus on the outskirts of town via taxi. Van, Van (Go! Go!). We got a 6 soles tour of the inland streets (carreterra or camino or calle) of Chimbote and found the dingy, blue Yungay bus waiting patiently for us gringos. Our bafgs were trown in teh under compartment (so far we have not had to store our bags on the roof which is nice). We had been sold 2 seats (asientos) together (junto) on the left side of the bus (25 soles) so when the time came during this 9 hour bus ride, we could see the magestic Canon del Pata. I am intrigued.

Stacy is in a wonderful mode this day, despite the continuous travel and lack of comfort. I am most impresed and tell her often. We were off. Heading east at first then ultimately south to Huaraz. I can´t wait for the snow-capped Andes!! The Peruvian Andes are the worlds´s second tallest mountain range by the way. Who knew? The trip took us from the desert-like caost of northern Peru into a rocky canyon zigging and zagging with the powerful Rio Santo River. The paved road ended abruptly and I was jarred awake. We were now on a makeshift dirt and rock path hugging the steep cliffs on one side goign up (arriba) and keeping clear of the downward cliff on the other falling into the Class 5 rapids below (sometimes 100 feet below!). I was constandtly feeling myself leaning the opposite way of the river.

Our bus had a driver, a porter collecting dinero and a mechanic. Thank god! We had to stop 5 times over the course of the 9 hour trip to fix something. Different somethings each time? Who knows? There was evidence of recent rock slides. I kept prodding Stacy with a wry smirk, ¨Hey, look at that massive rock in the middle of the river. How did that get there?¨ From a rock slde no doubt! The heart rate was constantly up on this trip. I was waiting for a rock to impale the roof of hte bus or rock us into teh river. We had a window open nearby just in case. No joke, we discussed our emergency plan! Twice during stops I thanked teh driver and mechanic for their brilliant work!

On and on this went for hours. We finally stopped in a village that lined this dusty road carved into the rock. Burros everywhere and makeshift shanty tiendas (shops) selling water and sugar stuff. The river was muddy and rushing by FAST! We ate a tidy little meal at a nice lady´s restaurante (4 walls and roof with tables and chairs). Seco de pollo, arroz y yuca. We enjoyed a CocaCola and talked with her and a few others. One guy who made and was selling his own helado (ice cream). It was tasty. I had a lot of fun chatting in espanol with our new friends. They seemed happy to talk too. Everyday the buses drive this road back and forth and they are the salvation in teh middle of nowhere. Everyone from our bus was eating and buying something (we were the only gringos for kilometers!) - business had to be pretty good here! The mechanic took the opportunity to fix whatever needed fixing and eventually we wereoff. Adios Amigos!

Despite th erepairs, we had to stop a few times more, precariously close to the cliff´s edge. The intense drive continued and then we hit the fabulous Canon del Pato. WOW!! A tight and incredibly steep and tall canyon with the roaring river below. How did they make this road?! It was carved out of rock. At times with barely a bus width of space. I was waiting for the rear left tire to start sliding down the cliff! here must have been 2 dozen tunnels we went through. Once having to back up 100M so another vehicle could pass. There were waterfalls pouring into the river. The cascadas started thousands of feet up we could see if we craned our necks to the very very top of the mountain. Incredible!! I was constantly leaning to my left across Stacy as she read her book, snapping photo after photo!! There was a dam at one point and then the Canon was past. We still wound our way through farmland and eventually to a real town wit ha paved road. We caught our first glimpse of Snow-capped Andes in the town of Caraz and the mountain that some revere as the most beautifully perfect peaks in the world, Alpamayo. We had to change buses in Yungay. I´m sure the bus was happy! That was an impossible trip for the poor bus!

The rest of the trip was paved. By now it was dark and my energy was sapped. I napped. I awoke to us nearing Huaraz. Stacy said she saw a serious head-on crash. Yikes! We arrived and were excited to walk and stretch our legs despite teh taxi guy and hostal lady trying to get our business. No gracias. We had sent an email to Olaza´s (www.Olazas.com) B&B from Piura (seems like a month ago) hopeful for a place to stay but who knows? It turned out they had a room and it was heavenly! I new establishment with large room with private bath and window. Delish!! There is a rooftop terrace, lounge with fireplace, free brekky. Our sense of accomplishment and relief was huge. High Fives all around! 48 hours of travel and we´d made it to Huaraz, surrounded by snowy peaks! Oh thank god. I was so happy - more for Stacy than anything. Also, for myself I suppose so the wife was satisfied.


A Happy Wife is a Happy Life (Oh I hope so!!)!!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

From Relaxation to a Rough Road - Sorry Stace - Chapter 1


After 7 days in the wonderful Valley of Longevity in Vilcabamba, Ecuador I felt it was time to go. We had extended our stay from 3 nights to 7, but Stacy was happy here. We talked a lot about it and she seemed happy to go after day 7. It turned out, she was not quite ready to hit the road. So, we compromised. She really wanted to stay in Vilcabamba, Ecuador (it was a great town and a great country!) but I was restless. We decided to head to Peru, but not to the jungle as I initially had hoped.

We had no clue really where, except to get over the border to a large town called Piura (pronounced Pee-ura). It was a wild ride. The overnight $8 bus ride was halted at 3am due to a rumba on the road. A rockslide! It had rained a bit the day before (ayer in espanol) We waited and waited, then I got out with others with my headlamp to check it out. Couldn´t see much but we could hear the frequent cracking and sliding sounds of rock and dirt. Frequent I tell you! I got back in the bus and we all slept there (a few others buses lined up in front of and behind us too). A
t 7am, I was up and curious. I walked over people sleeping in the bus aisle (they oversold the thing - shocker!) and saw the problem. We had serious road blockage and the cracking and spilling continued. I watched with dozens of others as a second rumba began closer than the other. Trees were sliding down with the dirt and rock. I had never seen such a thing. Stacy slept but I was in awe and enjoyed the wackiness. I was not sure how we were going to get to Peru and I really wanted my wife happy. Unfortuantely, this would not be the way to her heart. Waiting on a bus, no shower, not sure where or when we were going. The stars were not aligned for me these last few hours.

I explored our options by walking around the rumba in the thcket of bramble, trees and bushes, past a smellt bano (I did use it though) and up a small hill. I tried to keep my distance from the spillage but a few times I was maybe 20M away. On the other side were a few pickup trucks, taking advantage of the opportunity and the stranded people. I chatted with a few and for $10/vehicle (Ecuador uses the US$$ by the way), we could get a hitch to the border town of Macara 90 minutos away. As I spoke with them, the cracking became intense and the rockslide suddenly tripled in size and came flowing down the mountain sending a plumage of dust toward te hworkers who had begun to shovel away the mess. That was intense. Luckily no one, including me was hurt! I walked back to the buses and told Stacy the news. After her fright of losing me under a barrage of rubble subsided we were grabbing our backpacks (mochilas) and heading by foot toward and past the rumba. An argentinian couple followed, along with a number of others.

We loaded in a pickup and for $1.50 each we weredriving through the intense fog southbound toward the border (frontera). A nice conversation ensued with the Argentinian woman who was 7 months prego and who had been traveling with her husband since August (you do the math! thats daring.). We got to the border, the unorthodox way and met with rather pleasant officers with big smiles.
We were stamped and checked and soon, with the Argentinians, in another car (coche) heading to Sullana. Not Piura, but close. 2 hours later we arrived in the moto-taxi frenzied town and were dropped at t ehfeet of a sleeping local in a camry. He would take us to Piura. Really? It was a little bit rushed and uncomfortable, especially for Stacy, but what other choice did we have? The bus station was dangerous we were told (that´s what we hear about everywhere and we are still breathing!). We gave in and for 8 soles (1 soles = $0.30US) each we got a 45 minute ride to Piura.

Piura was a large town. The 4 of us had decided to be dropped near a cluster of hostels we´d seen in our trusty Lonely Planet guide book. Still, Stacy and I did not know what we were going to do...Stay the night? Go to the jungle? Take a bus today top somewhere? I had figured to head south into the Peruvian Andres to find a nice mountain lodge for a week or so to give Stacy the R&R she wanted. Now, she said we could go to the jungle if I wanted. I was going a bit loco. She was defintiely having a difficult time with all of this travel and leaving the comfort of our Vilcabamba santuary. I understand that. It was nice. But the difference between man and woman (hombre y mujer) was coming out. I was looking for solutions and she was simply going through her emotions at that time. We ended up finding Hostal San Carlos in Piura central for 45 soles. Not sure what we are going to do, but maybe taking some time to sit, rest and think will do us good. Oh, and a shower wouldn´t hurt either! We worked out some differences and hit the streets for a tasty Almuerzo (lunch) at a locals joint. Then we dove into the Internet recon program. Huaraz in the Andes became our focus and Stacy seemed to be getting into it as she read more and more. We were sitting at 2 computers in a tight corner of the place - really tight. So tight I was using my canine teeth to hit the Return key. We decided to go to head toward Huaraz, to the snow-capped peaks and maybe a little chill in the air. When or how we´d get there we were guessing, buses of course...

We walked to the street lined with bus companies (In Peru, there tends not to be a central station. Instead all of the private companies have their own locations. Luckily here they were all along one road). We bought 2 tickets to Trujillo in the south for 12 midnight (medianoche) tonight. Let´s just keep on keeping on we decided.

We shopped for groceries and again found PEANUT BUTTER! and the motherlode of wine! We stocked up and then rested until it was time to leave for our bus. We watched english TV in our matchbox of a room and recouped. The El Dorado bus trip south was a pleasure and we slept hard, arriving in Trujillo, 6 hours away, in what seemed to be 30 minutes! We were on our way. Now what?

And the story will continue ( a guy is painting the ceiling in our hostals so I will need to get going)...

Saturday, March 14, 2009

PB to fill the void, Por Favor!

We are 6 weeks into our America del Sur adventure and are having a blast! We zipped up to Ecuador after 6 days in Peru have are still here! The trip has developed a mind of its own as they have tended to do over hte last 13 months! At times traveling without a care in the world and other times fighting with what our future will bring and what are we doing with our lives?

We started on the coast in Puerto Lopez (Poor Man´s Galapagos), went northeast to Puerto Quito (luckily avoiding the 80M wide gap in the highway which had recently been washed away by intense rains, volunteered in the jungle with the biting bugs and sloths, planting trees and more. We headed east into the Andes to the capital of Quito, then southeast to Tena for an amazing Jungle Lodge adventure.

Then to Banos, then we took the brilliant train ride from Alausi down the Devils´s Nose,
and found ourselves after a 6 hour swerving and stopping bus ride, in Cuenca, the home of the Panama Hat (Yes, Panama didn´t make squat!).

We are now in Vilcabamba in the south, nearly to Peru. Stacy will for sure broaden your knowledge of the Valley of Longevity and its tremendous attributes, but lets just say our 3 night visit has turned into 7!!

Throughout this itinerary-less journey, we have been dealing with the mindfuck that has been our last 13 months. It has been incredible no question. But it also has brought up loads of questions and concerns. Amazingly liberating and fulfilling days have been followed by days filled with self-analysis and questions of why? (Por que?) and when? (Cuando.? Do we have money? Where are we going next? Where can we buy wine? Why are being the way you are? Geez! It has been an education on so many levels.

Luckily for us here, unlike in SE Asia, we do have bread (pan) and cheese (queso), wine (vino) ain´t great, but it you find a SuperMaxi (grocery store) you can embrace a good selection at good value! The comfort food (comida) has been a blessing, no doubt, but still, for for the first month something was lacking. I really didn´t know what it was, but when we were eating queso fresco (an Ecuadorian staple that looks like mozzerella, but tastes bad) again, or those wonderfully delicious Coco cookies (galletas) I found myself yearnign for something. It wasn´t until we were in Banos (not the toilet!) that I realized what it was that I missed. We take it for granted back home. It sits in the cupboard, sometimes for months on end. But here, you must search and search! I know, I´ve done it!



PEANUT BUTTER!! (Mantequilla de Mani) It has a special place in my heart that comforts me when those analytical questions arise or I wonder what we are doing?? We have spoken to people who had friends bring it with them from the states when they visited, one group had 2 CostCo-sized half gallons in their carry-on when they left the USA and had it confiscated under the liquid rule. Then, finally in Banos, a female traveler was spooning it out onto her plate in mounds and I had to keep myself from charging over there! It is in Ecuador afterall!!! The next day, Stacy, the wonderful wife that she is realized that it was in our town even and secretively disappeared with a smile on her face and returned bearing gifts (well, one gift). A small glass container of local mantequilla de mani!!! I was in shock!! Finally!! After searching long and hard for weeks, we had it!! I had it!

We are now on container number 3. In Cuanca at the SuperMaxi we found Peter Pan Crunchy which we are now enjoying (lots of sugar though!). Who needs dessert or chips or a carrot when you can finger-spoon a clump of PB into your salivating mouth.

Muchas Gracias Ecuador!!!

Saturday, March 7, 2009

El Baño en Baños, Ecuador


Photo Album. Baños is a quaint town located in a dramatic Andean valley with creature comforts all around. It's the first truly touristic city in Ecuador we have visited thus far. Our hostal, Plantos y Blancos was a highlight. Baños literally means 'baths' in Spanish due to the healing natural pools in the town from the giant volcano that towers over the town only miles away.

Our hostal has an early morning steam bath that Andy and I experienced three mornings in a row. It is a natural body cleanse that originated in Chile. You sit in a hot vapor box for 4 minutes with fresh eucalyptus leaves like a steam room, except your head sticks out. Then, you wipe your legs, arms and back methodically with a cold towel all the while following an attendant. You alternate this process five times, each time opening all of your pores, extracting the toxins, then closing your pores before the toxins have a chance to seep back in. There is also a time in the middle when you sit in a tub with freezing cold water and massage your intestines for about 1-2 minutes. Lastly, a cold jet spray. Afterwards, I felt revived and full of energy (and pooped like a champ) and clearer skin.

We enjoyed a 35km bike ride (oi) along la Routa de las Cascadas (Avenue of the Waterfalls). Oh my, Ecuador is a beautiful place! The highlands (Andes mountains) much more than the coast. No mosquitoes here, either. It rained everyday there but I didn't mind.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Amazon Jungle in Ecuador

Photo Album. Andy and I had an unforgettable four days in the Amazon jungle. The Shangrila Lodge reminded me of a giant tree house made completely of wood with loads of different levels and stairways. It faces west, perched on a cliff 100 meters above the winding Rio Anzu below. It was consistently about 70 - 75 degrees with only slight humidity. Thousands of hectares of secondary rainforest stretched out before us glittering in a spectrum of brilliant green colors. In the distance, the Camino des Volanes popped out from above the clouds - four volcanoes in the Andes mountains. The panoramic view was completely private with no other lodges or people in sight from our private deck and hammock. No mosquitoes this high up, either. A perfect paradise.

It was pouring rain the first day we arrived with the river too high to be able to canoe across for our scheduled activity to visit the indigenous Quichoa community in the rainforest. As an alternative, our guide Gilberto (pronounced Hilberto) decided to take us on a three hour canyon hike to the east in the dense primary rainforest. Little did we know we'd be scaling canyon walls and waterfalls in narrow passages with bats whipping by our faces and their screech in our ears. Though we had rubber boots to our knees, the rain was so insistent and intense that we were completely soaked through by the end, yet strangely satisfied. After all, this IS the rainforest.

Because the forest is so dense, the majority of the trail was in the stream bed which that day was up to my mid-calf. Gilberto only speaks Spanish with a few important jungle-related nouns or verbs in English thrown in, like "resvaloso" (slippery), "semillas" (seeds), "hoja" (leaf) and "monos" (monkeys). I was both surprised and pleased that during the hike we not only became acquainted with the jungle, but Spanish as well. It's incredible to hear about the various leaves, plants, roots and mushrooms the indigenous cultures have used over the centuries to cure headaches and stomach problems, malaria, as an antibiotic, to hallucinate or increase energy levels. Andy was daring enough to eat some crunchy lemon ants but I passed on that one.

The next day the sun shone brightly as we hiked in the secondary forest filled with thousands of brightly-colored butterfies to the Quichoa village. Along the way we tried fresh bananas and saw tiny monkeys swinging in the trees. I could hardly believe this jungle is only ten years old - the original primary forest was cut down years ago to make room for cow pastures. It's beautiful to see it back in its natural state now. At one point, Gilberto grabbed a spiky plant and hit my arm with it and stung like nettle. Red rash bumps quickly appeared but before I could get pissed off at him, Gilberto explained it's good for blood circulation as he pegged his own arm and lower back. Who knows.

Le Comunidad de Santa Maria is one giant family of 80 inhabitants. Maria and Delphin are the matriarch and patriarch, respectively. We arrived around 11:30am yet it felt like a ghost town because no one was up and around. Gilberto took us inside Delphin's house and explained because it is Saturday, they all get "baracho" (drunk) on the weekend from fermented yuca root until the wee hours of the morning and that is why everyone is still asleep. His house is made of bamboo with a couple of bamboo benches and a space for a fire in the center of the room. As Gilberto served us some tea from the huayusa plant (the "Viagra of the Jungle" as he called it), Delphin appeared (still half drunk it seemed) and we greeted him with "alipuncha," Quichoa for good morning. He spoke Spanish also so we could understand him some. We also tried the fermented yuca (which tasted like thin rotten yogurt to me) and Gilberto showed us the baskets they use for fishing when the river runs low. Along the hike, Gilberto had picked up other various leaves, mushrooms and a giant buttery grub which he cooked up in a banana leaf. Though otherwise completely primitive, I was not surprised to see a television in the room. In Southeast Asia it was the same way.

After lunch at the lodge, we tied three tubes together and cruised down the Rio Anzu for a couple of hours. It was both relaxing and beautiful to watch the "selva" (jungle) pass us by, engaging in yet another impromptu Spanish lesson. Gilberto was interested to know English words as well, so it was a fun activity to banter back and forth, teaching one another, asking questions and telling stories. I have never taken a formal Spanish lesson, but my comprehension and basic speech is improving drastically by the day. This is a gift from South America that I didn't expect but will cherish always. The trick is to CONTINUE practicing...

The next day we went white water rafting with a group of Germans on the Rio Jalunyacu, mostly level three rapids but with the tricks, games, our company and sheer number of rapids, it was a blast. Our guide (who also didn't speak English, shocker!) Jorge was a kick, with a bright smile and contagious zest for life. I decided he might have one of the best jobs in existance. My cheeks hurt at the end of the day from all the smiles and laughter (but now my neck and shoulders hurt from all the rowing). Also a memorable day, indeed, with the added bonus of the continuous Spanish lesson which I am growing to love and purposely find myself seeking out.

Like dozens of our experiences on this world trip, it was sad to leave this jungle sanctuary and a handful of new friends. But everything is temporary and this notion forces us to remain living and enjoying in the present moment to the fullest.