We're having a heatwave...a tropical heatwave...
Those of you who have better things to do with your time than watch old Marilyn Monroe movies will have no idea about that quote, but hey...
Well, I can tell you now that Greyhound buses have alot to learn from South American bus companies. Cramped, smelly and an interesting clientele certainly make a short journey seem long. So, after 7 hours on one of these charabangs we arrived in San Francisco at 5.30am and grabbed a taxi to our hostel/hotel in the supposedly trendy Mission district, where we had a very pleasant room, and went to sleep for 3 hours. After that we began our exploration of the city. I had very fond memories of San Francisco from my trip when I was 19 and was looking forward to see if it still lived up to its status as one of the few US cities I would happily live in. Actually I think its got even cooler. We decided we would wander up to Castro St for breakfast, but unfortunately I chose one of the steepest hilliest streets in the area (which went down quite badly with Jo) and finally reached Castro feeling a bit knackered. Breakfast was in a bar that was joyously advertising it's Thursday night's activities colourfully named "Wank Tank", but the food was okay and I became fascinated by the breakfast of the bloke sitting next to me - fried eggs, bacon, french toast with icing sugar & blueberries swimming in maple syrup - luckily he was clearly a gym junkie who might actually burn some of that off. Then we ambled down Market Street to buy 3 day travel passes and off to the newly tarted up port area to check out their fancy food hall.
That evening we headed a couple of blocks down the road to sample one of San Francisco's finest burritos. Very good it was too! The only drawback was that they made the fiestiest guacamole I've ever eaten and, combined with the rest of the burrito, gave me astounding breath issues. After that we headed to SF's premiere lesbian bar, or so the guide book claimed, The Lexington Room. Now, I was thinking 'this is SF so the main lesbian bar is going to be cool & hip', but it turned out to be very small (just about big enough for a bar, a few tables & a pool table) and strangely less hip than London bars. The 'ladies', for I shall call them that, were standard geezer bird combos (though one was attempting a cowgirl look, alas she clearly was not as adept at the redneck hat as I), and the pool playing was of a standard so appalling that I was tempted to revoke their lesbo status immediately. But I did have a lovely chat with a biker chick about her managerie of dogs as apparently they don't usually like bars but they seemed happy to frolic about in this one. She thought it might be because it was an all female bar & had a different vibe, but I think it may have had more to do with my burrito breath. So after a couple of swift beers we headed back to our hostel.
The next day we hit the vintage shops with gusto by heading up to Haight Ashbury, supposedly the hippy area, but were disapppointed to find that it was quite expensive now and that in fact all the good thrift stores were on Mission. So we headed back to our hotel and went out for dinner instead - Herbivore on Valencia, a most excellent vegetarian restaurant. Bargain of the day = 4 pairs of new Sketchers shoes for $29!
So, we decided to check out the Mission St thrift stores. Jo immediately spotted a rather fine pair of Gap 3/4 trousers for me for $2 and then purchased a fabulous pair of platform shoes for $8. After a couple of hours we headed downtown to catch the cable car to Lombard Street (the zigzag street) and finally, after an hour of queuing we trundled over the hill. After much wandering aboutup and down hills we ended up having dinner in Chinatown and crashing out. Our last day in SF was beautifully sunny so we thought we'd head to the park. We caught the tram all the way to Ocean Beach to have a look at the Pacific, which was cold, misty & grey, and then headed back to Golden Gate Park where it was also cold, misty & grey. So we caught the tram back to the small park behind our hotel only to discover that they were about to start a free concert by the SF symphony - hooray! A very pleasant 3 hours were spent lazing in the sun listening to Spanish influenced classical music, followed by a great burger & fries at The Burger Joint on Valencia, then back to pick up our bags and head to the bus station for our ride to Portland to meet Patti Thompson...
Love to one and all!
S & J
xxxxx
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll.
Aha! I have my hands on someone's laptop (ooer) and so am free to blog to my heart's content, at least for today (or until Jo's kicks me off to check her emails).
So, where was I? I was a little brusque about Mexico City, so I'll pad that out a bit. As I mentioned, the hostel was a little noisy, but it also had a very strange room arrangement in that instead of regular doors they had mirrored sliding patio style doors. You can imagine what this does to your body image after a few late nights and burritos to constantly be faced with a warts n'all full body shot of yourself. Yikes....so I've been holding my stomach in alot more lately...i don't think my amazing masterplan to become lithe and tanned has quite come to fruition, but I am hoping that I haven't actually gained too much (though there's definitely a bit of a belly there these days!). And LA, irritatingly, doesn't have quite so many fat people to stand next to.
Anyway, we headed off to the airport to catch our flight to New Orleans only to discover that it had been delayed by 2 hours. Kindly they gave us a free breakfast voucher and off we toddled to feast upon delights. We had to go to a particular airport restaurant called 'Freedom', although I was rather intrigued by the elegantly named 'Flaps' bar & grill, where Jo indulged in the 'Hangover Tortilla' which contained vast amounts of chilli and I had something which resembled and tasted of tortilla chips cooked in tar. I will let you imagine the effect on our guts...
Our flight was via Dallas where I encountered the compulsory grumpy immigration officer (I don't think they like the word 'archaeologist') and Jo met grumpy baggage/security men. Somehow they had managed to rip the waist support off my rucksack and the union jack patch from Jo's, but I suppose it could be worse. Finally, several hours after we were due, we made it to New Orleans, found our bags, caught the bus into town, and yomped through the French Quarter to our hotel - 'A Creole House' - which apparently is right next door to Sting's house (he wasn't home, we looked). There we met Shane, our friendly desk man, and spent the next hour trying to help him to get his pc to work. Eventually we checked in, showered and headed around the corner for food. I, predictably, went for a 'Louisiana Sampler' of shrimp creole, jambalaya & rice & beans, whilst Jo chose the more sedate Cobb salad. Of course, when the food arrived Jo's salad was big enough to feed 4 people.
We spent the rest of the evening exploring Bourbon Street, basically it is loud, garish & tacky, had a cocktail each (also loud, garish & tacky) and slunk back to the hotel to sleep in a proper bed. The next day we wandered the French Quarter, nosed in shops, drank alot of water to counteract the heat & humidity, hid from thunderstorms and stuffed ourselves with oyster po'boys & crawfish pie. We also solved our luggage dilemma by buying a fabulous wheelie suitcase made from rather colourful chilli patterned material, which is now packed with our winter clothes from South America. With a free evening ahead of us we asked Shane to recommend a decent gay bar (most of those we'd seen seemed to be blasting 'You make me feel mighty real' or playing drag queen bingo, and it was a little too warm for that) and he directed us to The Golden Lantern. The Goldern Lantern almost epitomises the typical US bar - small, slightly dingy, a barman, half a dozen customers drinking beer & smoking, all watching tv...the main difference was that instead of sport they were watching 'Queer As Folk'. Jo & I were the only women, excepting one woman of indeterminate age who looked as if she'd been drinking continuously for the last 57 years (apart from pauses to do home hairdye jobs). Soon enough I'd bonded with Dave, the barman, who shared a love of Cagney & Lacey and we were then engaged in deep conversation with some of the locals who had been rehearsing their play about the Stonewall Riots, in particular a 74 year old Southern gent called Winston who got to end the play by breaking a beer bottle over a cop's head. How exciting!
We crawled back to the hotel at 4am and slept until 2pm the next day, only to venture out for food and then watch tv until midnight.
Up at 5.30am the next day for our flight to LA, again via Dallas. got to the airport to be informed that our flight had been delayed by 2 hours. Clearly American Airlines have a theme going on. When we finally got to check in we were informed that this meant we would miss our Dallas connection, so, instead of arriving in LA at 11am, we would have to travel via Dallas, then Las Vegas and arrive in LA at 4.30pm. Nice. So that's what we did, but it gave me an opportunity to see Las Vegas airport and decide I didn't really want to stay there, particularly after I noticed a rather rotund lady in a very pink Celine Dion concert t-shirt...
Once at LAX we were met by Jo's friend Chris who had very kindly offered us a room at his apartment. So we've spent the last 3 days exploring Los Angeles and doing vast amounts of walking. Walking is a fairly alien concept in LA, so this means we often have the pavements to ourselves, and the car drivers seem so astonished to see you they very politely let you cross the road ahead of them. Sunday Chris drove us to Santa Monica to do some shopping and walk along the pier, then on Sunday night we went to Hollywood to check out the Walk of Fame & Mann's Chinese Theatre (where they have all the famous foot & hand prints). Monday Chris drove us to Beverley Hills and we proceeded to mooch for 8 hours along Sunset & Hollywood, where I spent quite alot of money on clothes, bought our bus tickets for the rest of our USA travels and then headed home for dinner with Chris & his mum. Tuesday was back to Beverley Hills and then a wander along Melrose Avenue, checking out all the vintage clothes shops, down to the farmer's market (where I, on the weak excuse of having a sunburnt nose, bought a rather fine straw "redneck" hat - I'm pretty sure I'll look back on it in a few months and cringe, but right now I love it) & The Grove (fancy new shopping area), a quick look at the Holocaust Memorial, down to Le Brea tarpits to enjoy the wafts of liquid asphalt & admire the model mammoths, and then back to Chris's office (a mere 8 hours again). Out for dinner & a DVD last night. All very civilised.
Today I think Chris is taking us to the Hollywood Hills, and tonight we have our first Greyhound bus trip to San Francisco. I'll blog again from there!
love to one and all...
S & J
xxxxxx
So, where was I? I was a little brusque about Mexico City, so I'll pad that out a bit. As I mentioned, the hostel was a little noisy, but it also had a very strange room arrangement in that instead of regular doors they had mirrored sliding patio style doors. You can imagine what this does to your body image after a few late nights and burritos to constantly be faced with a warts n'all full body shot of yourself. Yikes....so I've been holding my stomach in alot more lately...i don't think my amazing masterplan to become lithe and tanned has quite come to fruition, but I am hoping that I haven't actually gained too much (though there's definitely a bit of a belly there these days!). And LA, irritatingly, doesn't have quite so many fat people to stand next to.
Anyway, we headed off to the airport to catch our flight to New Orleans only to discover that it had been delayed by 2 hours. Kindly they gave us a free breakfast voucher and off we toddled to feast upon delights. We had to go to a particular airport restaurant called 'Freedom', although I was rather intrigued by the elegantly named 'Flaps' bar & grill, where Jo indulged in the 'Hangover Tortilla' which contained vast amounts of chilli and I had something which resembled and tasted of tortilla chips cooked in tar. I will let you imagine the effect on our guts...
Our flight was via Dallas where I encountered the compulsory grumpy immigration officer (I don't think they like the word 'archaeologist') and Jo met grumpy baggage/security men. Somehow they had managed to rip the waist support off my rucksack and the union jack patch from Jo's, but I suppose it could be worse. Finally, several hours after we were due, we made it to New Orleans, found our bags, caught the bus into town, and yomped through the French Quarter to our hotel - 'A Creole House' - which apparently is right next door to Sting's house (he wasn't home, we looked). There we met Shane, our friendly desk man, and spent the next hour trying to help him to get his pc to work. Eventually we checked in, showered and headed around the corner for food. I, predictably, went for a 'Louisiana Sampler' of shrimp creole, jambalaya & rice & beans, whilst Jo chose the more sedate Cobb salad. Of course, when the food arrived Jo's salad was big enough to feed 4 people.
We spent the rest of the evening exploring Bourbon Street, basically it is loud, garish & tacky, had a cocktail each (also loud, garish & tacky) and slunk back to the hotel to sleep in a proper bed. The next day we wandered the French Quarter, nosed in shops, drank alot of water to counteract the heat & humidity, hid from thunderstorms and stuffed ourselves with oyster po'boys & crawfish pie. We also solved our luggage dilemma by buying a fabulous wheelie suitcase made from rather colourful chilli patterned material, which is now packed with our winter clothes from South America. With a free evening ahead of us we asked Shane to recommend a decent gay bar (most of those we'd seen seemed to be blasting 'You make me feel mighty real' or playing drag queen bingo, and it was a little too warm for that) and he directed us to The Golden Lantern. The Goldern Lantern almost epitomises the typical US bar - small, slightly dingy, a barman, half a dozen customers drinking beer & smoking, all watching tv...the main difference was that instead of sport they were watching 'Queer As Folk'. Jo & I were the only women, excepting one woman of indeterminate age who looked as if she'd been drinking continuously for the last 57 years (apart from pauses to do home hairdye jobs). Soon enough I'd bonded with Dave, the barman, who shared a love of Cagney & Lacey and we were then engaged in deep conversation with some of the locals who had been rehearsing their play about the Stonewall Riots, in particular a 74 year old Southern gent called Winston who got to end the play by breaking a beer bottle over a cop's head. How exciting!
We crawled back to the hotel at 4am and slept until 2pm the next day, only to venture out for food and then watch tv until midnight.
Up at 5.30am the next day for our flight to LA, again via Dallas. got to the airport to be informed that our flight had been delayed by 2 hours. Clearly American Airlines have a theme going on. When we finally got to check in we were informed that this meant we would miss our Dallas connection, so, instead of arriving in LA at 11am, we would have to travel via Dallas, then Las Vegas and arrive in LA at 4.30pm. Nice. So that's what we did, but it gave me an opportunity to see Las Vegas airport and decide I didn't really want to stay there, particularly after I noticed a rather rotund lady in a very pink Celine Dion concert t-shirt...
Once at LAX we were met by Jo's friend Chris who had very kindly offered us a room at his apartment. So we've spent the last 3 days exploring Los Angeles and doing vast amounts of walking. Walking is a fairly alien concept in LA, so this means we often have the pavements to ourselves, and the car drivers seem so astonished to see you they very politely let you cross the road ahead of them. Sunday Chris drove us to Santa Monica to do some shopping and walk along the pier, then on Sunday night we went to Hollywood to check out the Walk of Fame & Mann's Chinese Theatre (where they have all the famous foot & hand prints). Monday Chris drove us to Beverley Hills and we proceeded to mooch for 8 hours along Sunset & Hollywood, where I spent quite alot of money on clothes, bought our bus tickets for the rest of our USA travels and then headed home for dinner with Chris & his mum. Tuesday was back to Beverley Hills and then a wander along Melrose Avenue, checking out all the vintage clothes shops, down to the farmer's market (where I, on the weak excuse of having a sunburnt nose, bought a rather fine straw "redneck" hat - I'm pretty sure I'll look back on it in a few months and cringe, but right now I love it) & The Grove (fancy new shopping area), a quick look at the Holocaust Memorial, down to Le Brea tarpits to enjoy the wafts of liquid asphalt & admire the model mammoths, and then back to Chris's office (a mere 8 hours again). Out for dinner & a DVD last night. All very civilised.
Today I think Chris is taking us to the Hollywood Hills, and tonight we have our first Greyhound bus trip to San Francisco. I'll blog again from there!
love to one and all...
S & J
xxxxxx
Monday, July 18, 2005
Bet you were wondering where we were...
Sorry for the gap between posts. This has been caused by a variety of factors (including incredibly expensive internet cafes in the USA), but now I have a few minutes on a free public library pc so will attempt to give you a brief resume of our last few days.
You last heard from us in Ecuador, where we spent a couple of days before having to head back to Lima to catch a plane to Mexico. Well, we got back to our hostel in Lima at about midnight and promptly decided to celebrate my birthday by drinking half a bottle of some $3 Ecuadorian moonshine. As you can imagine it got fairly raucous, but a good time was had by all. Until we had to get up at 7am to get the taxi to the airport. Then Mexico City...
Our hostel, though in a great location for sightseeing, was also right behind several bars that prided themselves on their nightly live bands. Trust me, until you've heard The Smiths covered by a Spanish speaking band, you haven't lived. Luckily Jo & I still had our earplugs and managed to get some sleep, despite our mattresses being inflatable & our pillows giving us coughing and sneezing fits. And we discovered that you cannot get a decent margarita for love nor money in Mexico, although we did have the most fantastic meal to celebrate my birthday properly (but of course!).
Gotta dash 'cos you only get a few minutes on these machines, but will try to update soon with tales of New Orleans...
lots of love
S & J
xxxxx
You last heard from us in Ecuador, where we spent a couple of days before having to head back to Lima to catch a plane to Mexico. Well, we got back to our hostel in Lima at about midnight and promptly decided to celebrate my birthday by drinking half a bottle of some $3 Ecuadorian moonshine. As you can imagine it got fairly raucous, but a good time was had by all. Until we had to get up at 7am to get the taxi to the airport. Then Mexico City...
Our hostel, though in a great location for sightseeing, was also right behind several bars that prided themselves on their nightly live bands. Trust me, until you've heard The Smiths covered by a Spanish speaking band, you haven't lived. Luckily Jo & I still had our earplugs and managed to get some sleep, despite our mattresses being inflatable & our pillows giving us coughing and sneezing fits. And we discovered that you cannot get a decent margarita for love nor money in Mexico, although we did have the most fantastic meal to celebrate my birthday properly (but of course!).
Gotta dash 'cos you only get a few minutes on these machines, but will try to update soon with tales of New Orleans...
lots of love
S & J
xxxxx
Thursday, July 07, 2005
And the day started so well...
This morning Jo & I both woke up feeling some serious travel fatigue - Jo was very grumpy and wishing celestial vegeance upon the Lima cab driver who ripped us off yesterday, whilst I simply had a rotten cold. So we decided we would head out for breakfast and then spend the morning at the Turkish baths advertised at out hostel. Breakfast was great, although a cheeses toastie, milky coffee & a huge omlette are probably not too good for the arteries, and the baths turned out to be very close by. It was fantastic - we had the whole place to ourselves and spent a very relaxing 3 hours flitting between the swimming pool, sauna, steam room and the spa pool, ending with a hot shower and a bowl of soup, all for the grand price of US$13.50. I am seriously considering building a sauna when we get to NZ, it is just so ludricrously relaxing...and my skin now feels as soft as a baby's bum! It certainly compensated for yesterday's exposure to very loud Andean music.
Last night we had elected, through sheer laziness, to eat on the roof terrace at our hostel - a 3 course meal for US$4.50 each can't be bad we thought. But we forgot about the live music they had promised. So at about 8.00pm, just as my beer was starting to kick in, up popped a bunch of geezers in ponchos who proceeded to blast our ears with panpipes, drums, flutes & guitars of varying sizes. As if that wasn't traumatic enough (although not as traumatic as hearing a panpipe cover version of 'Hotel California' in Cusco), we were then emotionally scarred further by the compulsory middle-aged, geography teacher-esque American women (tapered jeans, dangly earrings & walking sandals styleee) who started jiggy like banshees with the Ecuadorian musicians. At one point I was almost certain that a conga was on the cards! Luckily my finest death stare seemed to keep that at bay, although the insistent bugger with the hat demanded a dollar from us for the 'entertainment'. I promptly went to bed and passed out.
Following our trip to the sauna Jo & I decided to surf the internet for a while, as we calculated our pennypinching spending so far had left us enough dosh for a fancy trip to one of the glitzier hotels in Vegas (we're thinking the Luxor...that's how relaxed I am getting!) and wanted to check out our options, only to be faced with the news of the London bombings. Luckily I think everyone we know who may have been commuting through that part of London is okay. Guess those gits were waiting to see if we got the Olympics...fuckers...Don't really know what else to say about it except that I hope no one has had a loved one involved and I wish these Al Qaeda blokes would get the hang of the fact that bombing does not work. Arseholes.
On that un-cheery note, I will end this entry. Off to Lima for the night tomorrow, then Mexico City for 4 days before we finally hit the USA.
Love to one & all
S & J
Last night we had elected, through sheer laziness, to eat on the roof terrace at our hostel - a 3 course meal for US$4.50 each can't be bad we thought. But we forgot about the live music they had promised. So at about 8.00pm, just as my beer was starting to kick in, up popped a bunch of geezers in ponchos who proceeded to blast our ears with panpipes, drums, flutes & guitars of varying sizes. As if that wasn't traumatic enough (although not as traumatic as hearing a panpipe cover version of 'Hotel California' in Cusco), we were then emotionally scarred further by the compulsory middle-aged, geography teacher-esque American women (tapered jeans, dangly earrings & walking sandals styleee) who started jiggy like banshees with the Ecuadorian musicians. At one point I was almost certain that a conga was on the cards! Luckily my finest death stare seemed to keep that at bay, although the insistent bugger with the hat demanded a dollar from us for the 'entertainment'. I promptly went to bed and passed out.
Following our trip to the sauna Jo & I decided to surf the internet for a while, as we calculated our pennypinching spending so far had left us enough dosh for a fancy trip to one of the glitzier hotels in Vegas (we're thinking the Luxor...that's how relaxed I am getting!) and wanted to check out our options, only to be faced with the news of the London bombings. Luckily I think everyone we know who may have been commuting through that part of London is okay. Guess those gits were waiting to see if we got the Olympics...fuckers...Don't really know what else to say about it except that I hope no one has had a loved one involved and I wish these Al Qaeda blokes would get the hang of the fact that bombing does not work. Arseholes.
On that un-cheery note, I will end this entry. Off to Lima for the night tomorrow, then Mexico City for 4 days before we finally hit the USA.
Love to one & all
S & J
A short walk part 2
Sunday July 3rd: Deep joy - a 4am wake up call, and not even coca tea to lure us out of bed. So in the pitch black we stumbled off to use the facilities and eat our final hearty breakfast. Luckily the mysterious critter that Jo had caught in her torch beam the night before (no idea what it was but it was in the undergrowth right behind our tent and it's eyes were about 4 inches apart, which was enough to drive me straight into the tent) had decided to spare us, and we were ready for the off at 5.15am. A quick queue at the checkpoint and we were back on the trail and yomping towards Macchu Picchu at high speed, using torches to see where the hell we were going (Jo tells me I was better off not being able to see as she reckons some bits were a bit dodgy). The morning's hiking was pretty straightforward, the only hassle was a bunch of ridiculously steep steps quite near MP itself, and we were at the site after a couple of hours. After a quick break to get our passports stamped we were taken on a guided tour of the whole site, which is very pretty, including sharing a staircase with a passing llama (not attractive from behind at close quarters). Then, absolutely knackered & hungry we headed into Aguas Calientes for food and a quick mooch about before collecting our kit from the porters and heading back to Cusco on the train.
For some unknown reason the train journey back to Cusco takes 4.5 hours, and the seating is arranged with Peruvians in mind, ie sod all leg room. And to say that the "backpacker train" smells more than a little ripe would be quite an understatement...but luck would have it we overheard someone saying that you could get off the train at the penultimate stop and catch a bus for 5 soles (about US$1.75) which only took 15 minutes to get to the centre of Cusco, as opposed to another hour on the train. Guess which option we went for?
So we were back at our hostel by 7.30pm, and I was in the shower by 7.45pm. Bliss. A good night's sleep was only marred by the odd positioning of a skylight right above my bed...interesting.
As Catherine told me, I loved the Inca Trail. I'd do it again like a shot. If you like the outdoors, exercise and lots of fresh air in a gorgeous environment, then you should do it. It is great!!!
Then we headed to Lima, another overnight bus trip, for a quick stop over and a visit to the NZ honorary consul to sort out some very tedious paperwork that would allow Jo's folks to recieve our worldly goods when they arrive in NZ next week. He was a very nice man called Alfonso who used to work for the NZ dairy board and was very proud of his medal from the Queen for services to NZ. That accomplished I insisted on visiting a local fancy supermarket to examine their range of condiments, where we happened to buy crisps, cakes and wine, and headed back to our hostel for a room disco (the joy of mp3 players!) and I got a bit squiffy. Lima is okay, but not terribly exciting, so it was no hardship when we left this morning. Except that we got ripped off by the taxi driver that took us to the airport...and when we checked in we discovered that Lan Airlines had generously cancelled all our bookings because we skipped the flight to La Paz (again, we had been told this in Cusco but rebooked them all - let's hope they don't repeat the process on Friday). So we rebooked and reconfirmed them all over again. The flight to Quito was uneventful, except for the spectacular views of snowcapped mountains & volcanoes, and the fact that I seem to have developed a cold. Also the Peruvian ground staff at Lima Airport seemed to be fascinated by my height and kept telling me I was very tall (Jo was told she was very beautiful by the passport man...ooer).
So now we are in Ecuador, Jo is tired and I am snotty, but aside from that its all good. Only a week left in South/Central America then its off to the good ole US of A. Cool...
Bye for now!
S
For some unknown reason the train journey back to Cusco takes 4.5 hours, and the seating is arranged with Peruvians in mind, ie sod all leg room. And to say that the "backpacker train" smells more than a little ripe would be quite an understatement...but luck would have it we overheard someone saying that you could get off the train at the penultimate stop and catch a bus for 5 soles (about US$1.75) which only took 15 minutes to get to the centre of Cusco, as opposed to another hour on the train. Guess which option we went for?
So we were back at our hostel by 7.30pm, and I was in the shower by 7.45pm. Bliss. A good night's sleep was only marred by the odd positioning of a skylight right above my bed...interesting.
As Catherine told me, I loved the Inca Trail. I'd do it again like a shot. If you like the outdoors, exercise and lots of fresh air in a gorgeous environment, then you should do it. It is great!!!
Then we headed to Lima, another overnight bus trip, for a quick stop over and a visit to the NZ honorary consul to sort out some very tedious paperwork that would allow Jo's folks to recieve our worldly goods when they arrive in NZ next week. He was a very nice man called Alfonso who used to work for the NZ dairy board and was very proud of his medal from the Queen for services to NZ. That accomplished I insisted on visiting a local fancy supermarket to examine their range of condiments, where we happened to buy crisps, cakes and wine, and headed back to our hostel for a room disco (the joy of mp3 players!) and I got a bit squiffy. Lima is okay, but not terribly exciting, so it was no hardship when we left this morning. Except that we got ripped off by the taxi driver that took us to the airport...and when we checked in we discovered that Lan Airlines had generously cancelled all our bookings because we skipped the flight to La Paz (again, we had been told this in Cusco but rebooked them all - let's hope they don't repeat the process on Friday). So we rebooked and reconfirmed them all over again. The flight to Quito was uneventful, except for the spectacular views of snowcapped mountains & volcanoes, and the fact that I seem to have developed a cold. Also the Peruvian ground staff at Lima Airport seemed to be fascinated by my height and kept telling me I was very tall (Jo was told she was very beautiful by the passport man...ooer).
So now we are in Ecuador, Jo is tired and I am snotty, but aside from that its all good. Only a week left in South/Central America then its off to the good ole US of A. Cool...
Bye for now!
S
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
A short walk in the Peruvian Andes...
We made it! Now safely esconced in a hostel in Lima for the night (off to Ecuador tomorrow) I am suitably refreshed and able to tell tall tales of our 4 days yomping the Inca Trail -
Thursday 30th June: Although the trek company weren´t due to collect us until 5.30am I managed to wake up at about 3am with an attack of nerves. When we went to pay the remainder of our trek fees they gave us a copy of their advisory notes and my eyes refused to see anything except the section concerning 'steep drops', and so I became convinced that at some point I would have to edge my way across very dubious precipices or cliff edges. At almost exactly 5.30am we were collected, whizzed about Cusco picking up our fellow trekkers, and headed off to the start of the trail at Ollantaytambo (where, as sagely advised by Mrs Funnell, we bought ourselves walking sticks). Once across the river some introductions were made and our group consisted of Jo & I, Mo & Amanda (USA), Gonneke - pronounced like Monica - & Bart (Holland), Jo & Tom (UK), Kirsten & Anka (Germany), Louis & Jessica (Canada) and Steph (Australia), plus Leo & Emilio (our guides) and 22 porters. The first day of trekking was fairly straightforward, a gentle stroll along the river with the occassional uphill bit, the odd Inca ruin and alot of chit chat amongst the group. The first surprise came in the form of lunch. Most of us were expecting a sandwich, a piece of fruit and a swig of pop, but instead we got a full 3 course sit down lunch with tea (including the seeming Peruvian standard of rice, potato & bread). Having stuffed ourselves we staggered onwards until we reached our overnight campsite about 15km along the track, where we discovered that the porters had already set up the tents and were getting an afternoon tea ready of bread, popcorn, biscuits & more tea...and were then told dinner would be served at 7pm! This was another 3 course extravaganza, after which we drifted off to our tents and bed (but not before admiring the stunning night sky & shooting stars).
Friday 1st July: Wake up call at 6am, having slept surprisingly well by developing a technique of entirely disappearing inside my sleeping bag so that no part of me was exposed to chill air and by using very sturdy earplugs (Jo, despite the same brand of earplug was awoken by a donkey grazing right behind the tent), a hot cup of tea and then off to use the 'facilities' as Leo insisted on calling them. Unfortunately, during the night almost all the facilities had been used by people with loose bowels and very poor aim, so the whole group ended up using the same loo. After a big breakfast of pancakes, tea & toast, we headed off to start the infamous day 2 - 9km up hill to a height of 4200m, followed by 3km down steps to our campsite. An indicator of the harshness of day 2 is that the day´s walking is due to finish at 2.30pm! It was horrible. Jo´s legs decided they´d had enough at about 10.30am (we started at 7.30am), and a slow painful slog up the remainder of the hill/mountain ensued. Mo & I decided to keep Jo company - starting a trend of slow & chatty hiking - and thanks to Emilio, our assistant guide, we all made it. Emilio devised a great tactic of catching up with us, checking we were okay, having a doze in the sunshine for 30mins, and then repeating the process all over again, and again...the man was a genius. When we got to the summit, after a mere 5 hours (including a break for elevenses) there was an obligatory group photo and the realisation that Kirsten was having trouble with the altitude and feeling extremely unwell - luckily Emilio came to the rescue again and got her down the 3km of steps to camp. The rest of us just had to slog it out ourselves, but again chit chat helped. As you can imagine the evening consisted of food (accompanied by pisco tea - yum) and sleep, and not much else. But we had the most fabulous view of the mountains in front of us, and a rather unnerving view of the hill behind the campsite we had to climb the next morning.
Saturday 2nd July: Another 6am start, breakfast of omelettes, hot chocolate, bread & jam, and then the walking started at 7.30am. Considering the previous day´s exertions I felt surprisingly okay and the 2 hour trek up the steep hill and steps went by fairly easily. The rest of the day was up hill and down dale, visiting ruins & walking through beautiful cloud forest until we reached our lunch tent and stuffed ourselves once again. I also used one of the world´s most spectacular loos with a terrific view across the Andes, although the loo itself was simply a rectangle cut into a wooden floor. We had been told that the afternoon would consist of approximately 3 hours of stomping down 2000 rough cut stone steps and through cloud forest and the reputation of our chatting and trekking technique was becoming legend. So the afternoon was spent forming the 'Ladies Who Trek' society - Mo, Amanda, Gonneke, Jo, Steph, Jo & I spent a very fun few hours gossiping, sniggering and guffawing our way along the trail, stopping as often as we felt to admire the views, muttering about the boy racers who insisted on jogging past, and holding my hand on the scary steep bits (ie when some dumbass tour group decides to stop on the very dodgy stone stairs with no railings). Leo I think got a little impatient as he ended up backtracking to find us and kept giving us very peculiar looks every time we stopped to chat. But we all decided it was the best day of the trek and vowed friendship thereafter. When we finally reached camp I went on a beer run at the nearby youth hostel, and it was probably one of the best beers I have ever had! By this point my boots had to be double bagged as they smelt sooo bad....
Anyway, I´ve used up all my internet time, so I´ll continue tomorrow.
Adios!
Thursday 30th June: Although the trek company weren´t due to collect us until 5.30am I managed to wake up at about 3am with an attack of nerves. When we went to pay the remainder of our trek fees they gave us a copy of their advisory notes and my eyes refused to see anything except the section concerning 'steep drops', and so I became convinced that at some point I would have to edge my way across very dubious precipices or cliff edges. At almost exactly 5.30am we were collected, whizzed about Cusco picking up our fellow trekkers, and headed off to the start of the trail at Ollantaytambo (where, as sagely advised by Mrs Funnell, we bought ourselves walking sticks). Once across the river some introductions were made and our group consisted of Jo & I, Mo & Amanda (USA), Gonneke - pronounced like Monica - & Bart (Holland), Jo & Tom (UK), Kirsten & Anka (Germany), Louis & Jessica (Canada) and Steph (Australia), plus Leo & Emilio (our guides) and 22 porters. The first day of trekking was fairly straightforward, a gentle stroll along the river with the occassional uphill bit, the odd Inca ruin and alot of chit chat amongst the group. The first surprise came in the form of lunch. Most of us were expecting a sandwich, a piece of fruit and a swig of pop, but instead we got a full 3 course sit down lunch with tea (including the seeming Peruvian standard of rice, potato & bread). Having stuffed ourselves we staggered onwards until we reached our overnight campsite about 15km along the track, where we discovered that the porters had already set up the tents and were getting an afternoon tea ready of bread, popcorn, biscuits & more tea...and were then told dinner would be served at 7pm! This was another 3 course extravaganza, after which we drifted off to our tents and bed (but not before admiring the stunning night sky & shooting stars).
Friday 1st July: Wake up call at 6am, having slept surprisingly well by developing a technique of entirely disappearing inside my sleeping bag so that no part of me was exposed to chill air and by using very sturdy earplugs (Jo, despite the same brand of earplug was awoken by a donkey grazing right behind the tent), a hot cup of tea and then off to use the 'facilities' as Leo insisted on calling them. Unfortunately, during the night almost all the facilities had been used by people with loose bowels and very poor aim, so the whole group ended up using the same loo. After a big breakfast of pancakes, tea & toast, we headed off to start the infamous day 2 - 9km up hill to a height of 4200m, followed by 3km down steps to our campsite. An indicator of the harshness of day 2 is that the day´s walking is due to finish at 2.30pm! It was horrible. Jo´s legs decided they´d had enough at about 10.30am (we started at 7.30am), and a slow painful slog up the remainder of the hill/mountain ensued. Mo & I decided to keep Jo company - starting a trend of slow & chatty hiking - and thanks to Emilio, our assistant guide, we all made it. Emilio devised a great tactic of catching up with us, checking we were okay, having a doze in the sunshine for 30mins, and then repeating the process all over again, and again...the man was a genius. When we got to the summit, after a mere 5 hours (including a break for elevenses) there was an obligatory group photo and the realisation that Kirsten was having trouble with the altitude and feeling extremely unwell - luckily Emilio came to the rescue again and got her down the 3km of steps to camp. The rest of us just had to slog it out ourselves, but again chit chat helped. As you can imagine the evening consisted of food (accompanied by pisco tea - yum) and sleep, and not much else. But we had the most fabulous view of the mountains in front of us, and a rather unnerving view of the hill behind the campsite we had to climb the next morning.
Saturday 2nd July: Another 6am start, breakfast of omelettes, hot chocolate, bread & jam, and then the walking started at 7.30am. Considering the previous day´s exertions I felt surprisingly okay and the 2 hour trek up the steep hill and steps went by fairly easily. The rest of the day was up hill and down dale, visiting ruins & walking through beautiful cloud forest until we reached our lunch tent and stuffed ourselves once again. I also used one of the world´s most spectacular loos with a terrific view across the Andes, although the loo itself was simply a rectangle cut into a wooden floor. We had been told that the afternoon would consist of approximately 3 hours of stomping down 2000 rough cut stone steps and through cloud forest and the reputation of our chatting and trekking technique was becoming legend. So the afternoon was spent forming the 'Ladies Who Trek' society - Mo, Amanda, Gonneke, Jo, Steph, Jo & I spent a very fun few hours gossiping, sniggering and guffawing our way along the trail, stopping as often as we felt to admire the views, muttering about the boy racers who insisted on jogging past, and holding my hand on the scary steep bits (ie when some dumbass tour group decides to stop on the very dodgy stone stairs with no railings). Leo I think got a little impatient as he ended up backtracking to find us and kept giving us very peculiar looks every time we stopped to chat. But we all decided it was the best day of the trek and vowed friendship thereafter. When we finally reached camp I went on a beer run at the nearby youth hostel, and it was probably one of the best beers I have ever had! By this point my boots had to be double bagged as they smelt sooo bad....
Anyway, I´ve used up all my internet time, so I´ll continue tomorrow.
Adios!
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