AngelasAmazingAdventures

Snorkeling in the Pantanal

angelas_away — Mon, 16 Jan 2023 10:22:00 GMT

Angela's Away is back for another exciting instalment. This entry is out of order for the current trip as i only just

Lunch in Luxemboug

angelas_away — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 18:32:00 GMT

For no other reason than to stop in a country neither of us had been to, we decided to drive through Luxembourg and stop for lunch before continuing to Switzerland.

There was nothing particularly amazing about Luxembourg city, but it did provide an interesting couple of hours break from driving. It was a hot sunny day and we thought it would have been nice to take advantage of the bicycles for hire that were available all around, but we didn`t really have the time. One tourist spot we did decide to squeeze in was the Church Of Notre Dame, a must-see surely. However the church was a bit of a let-down from the outside; not the majestic cathedral we`d imagined... and where was the the balcony that Quasimodo hung from, calling "Esmerelda! Esmerelda!" ?

Yes ok, we know now. That particular Cathedral of Notre Dam is in Paris, not Luxembourg!

So after fighting the crowds in the city to find somewhere reasonable and not touristy to eat (we failed on the non-touristy part) we were quite happy to leave Luxembourg and continue on our way.

First stop: Bruges, Belgium

angelas_away — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 18:10:00 GMT

After an uneventful ferry crossing from Dover to Dunkirk, we decided to drive through Belgium rather than France. In less than a couple of hours we arrived in Bruges, inspired by watching the film "In Bruges" recently (the film wasn`t much good but the town looked interesting).

Bruges turned out to be lovely, very quaint and clean. After finally finding a room for the night in a reasonable guesthouse, we took a horse-drawn carriage to see some of the town. It feels like time has stopped in Bruges; the buildings and streets are old and full of history, but the town is well preserved and looked after. Lots of quaint little shops selling traditional lace, tapestries and paintings, cute little bridges over clean canals, people cycling everywhere - its definitely worth a visit.

We left the next morning after a great Belgium breakfast (including plenty of hot chocolate of course) and decided to have a brief stop in Luxembourg on our way to Switzerland.

The start of another journey

angelas_away — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 17:57:00 GMT

To continue from the last entry in my journal, the story goes something like this:

Angela decides to leave the south of England after her travels, moves back to the Midlands into a tiny Leicestershire village, joins a capoeira club in Leicester and meets Christos. The Universe had conspired to bring them together, and when Christos proposed to Angela in May and she said yes, their destinies became joined forever.

So fast forward to August 30th 2009 and the happy couple are about to set off for Greece to get married, and driving there rather than jumping on a plane seemed much more appropriate somehow. So let the journey begin...

The final phase - fun and frolics in Thailand and Laos

angelas_away — Wed, 14 May 2008 14:56:00 GMT

Wow the last couple of weeks have really flown by, as time does when you`re having fun. The jungle trek in Chiang Mai was brilliant. Twelve of us travelled in a truck for a couple of hours to the start of the trek, and spent a couple of days walking through various different types of jungle, crossing rivers and streams, climbing steep hills. The first day, it rained heavily all day and we were soaked, even with rain ponchos on. We stayed at a tiny jungle village that night, eating dinner by candlelight - which was nice apart from the invasion of moths who gathered to commit mass suicide in our dinner and the candles.

Next day the weather was better, though still not too hot which was good as we did quite a lot of walking. We finished by a big waterfall which we all jumped into to cool off, then ate dinner and played cards. A fairly uneventful night, apart from the scorpion that someone found in their room!

On the third day, things stepped up a pace. We walked to a river where we jumped on bamboo rafts which hold 4-5 people, and cruised down the river through quite mild rapids. It was all quite well behaved until a mass pile-up at a rougher section of rapids caused a couple of the rafts to break up, and suddenly we all found ourselves clinging onto a tiny island in the middle of the river which was a bit scary! But we made it down safely, if very wet and a bit cold by the end. As we were getting off the rafts at the end of the course, a big wind came up out of nowhere and felled a tree about 20m in front of us which crashed down across the river - which was very scary! We all ran for the truck and made our escape back to the hotel.

By the end of the 3 days, all twelve of us were great friends and we went out that night for a big drinking session. Luckily I don`t remember too much of what happened, but I do remember sitting down on the pavement at 5am and refusing to move another step!

After that, I decided to travel to Laos with 4 english people that I had - Sarah and Ross from Nottingham, Dave from Leicester and Lucy from Hampshire. We all took a 2 day trip down the Mekong River on a slow boat to get to Luang Prabang in Laos. This involved sitting on a big boat, drinking beer, playing cards, reading books, and admiring the lovely scenery of thick jungle with the odd wooden hut sticking its roof up above the greenery. The boat was similar to the one I took on the Amazon, in that it stopped for anyone and everyone that wanted to get off or on along the way. Quite funny to see a couple of people standing at the side flagging the boat down as though it was a bus!

Luang Prabang was a surprise, I don`t think any of us expected it to be so beautiful. It was a small town with lots of temples, a couple of nice chilled bars, a big handicraft night market, and the perfect place to just chill out for a couple of days. We hired bikes and cycled across the river to check out a remote temple, and the journey took us through small villages completely untouched by tourists, it was lovely. Laos is all jungle and mountains, and despite it being fairly popular as a tourist destination, it has managed to stay peaceful and unspoilt... so far.

We then took a 5 hour minibus ride to Vang Viene which is a bit more lively and geared up for tourism, but still manages to feel authentic and relatively unspoilt, despite being full of restaurants and bars playing reruns of Friends and serving hamburgers and happy shakes. Ever since we got to Laos, everyone has talked about tubing in Vang Viene - its famous for it. So what better way to celebrate my birthday than by floating down a big river on rubber inner tubes, stopping at various bars along the way for a cocktail or two, maybe a quick game of volleyball, watching the crazy fools diving into the river from the many rope swings along the way, before jumping back into the tube and heading down to the next bar. Sometimes the river seemed busy, with big groups of people laughing and joking, grabbing onto each others tubes and going down the little rapids together. Other times, it could be relatively quiet and I had a few minutes to float in the warm water, looking up at the huge mountains looming at each side of the river and reflecting on what a great way to spend a day this was.

By 6pm we were a little bit tipsy and getting cold, so we ditched the tubes and went to an Indian restaurant for my birthday dinner, followed by more drinking at some riverside bars which had hammocks and cushions for maximum chilling.

Only a few days left now until Jayne arrives in Bangkok, which I`m really looking forward to... and then HOME! Its too freaky to talk about yet, I can`t believe how fast 7 months has gone.

God its hot here!

angelas_away — Sat, 3 May 2008 01:51:00 GMT

Which was my first thought when I walked out of Bangkok airport after 9 hours on the plane from Melbourne. Really really hot and humid!

A nice lady in an airconditioned taxi took me to Tavees Guesthouse, where I was staying on recommendation. It was a nice place, quiet, with a restaurant at the front, a massage shop next door and a few food stalls outside. I didn't realise how quiet it was until I found Ko San Road the following day - famous backpacker destination and now my idea of hell on earth! Its one road absolutely swarming with tourists, lined with shops selling tacky gadgets and clothes, interspersed with loud bars advertising football games and cheap beer. Interesting to walk along... but soon I'd had enough and had to get out of there!

Over 2 days in Bangkok, I took in some of the bigger temples with their huge ornately decorated towers and shining golden Buddhas, and had a tour around the Grand Palace which was unbelievably grand and stunning. I did a lot of walking, enough to give myself blisters in my well-worn flip flops meaning I had to buy another pair of shoes... actually I bought two cos its so cheap here.

There are many more places I want to see in Bangkok, but I am saving these for when Jayne and I are exploring together.

I'm now in a big city in the north called Chiang Mai, probably the second biggest city after Bangkok. I got here by train and bus, via short stopovers in Ayuthaya and Sukhothai, both nice little towns with lots of great temple ruins to visit and lots of wicked food - I'm in my element!

Tomorrow I am going on a 3 day jungle trek in one of the national parks, which includes riding an elephant on the last day! Pretty exciting stuff.. will report more later!

PS. I would like to take this opportunity to say hello to Nanna - I know Dad has been having these blogs printed out and sent to her, so Nanna this is for you! Hello, hope you are ok, and love you lots. Sending you a big kiss from Thailand! My trip is nearly over, I can't believe how fast 6 months has gone but it has been amazing. Lots of love, Angela xx

A short spell down under

angelas_away — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 13:32:00 GMT

Oops, I've been a bit sloppy with my blog entries lately so for completeness, a word or two about what I got up to in Australia... which wasn't a lot!

Doron met me from Melbourne airport and we went straight to the pub for a catch up on whats been happening since we last saw each other (4 months). Next day, we were up at the crack of dawn for an 8 hour drive into New South Wales to meet a mutual friend from Iquitos who was searching for a certain species of tree in the forest. We tagged along for the opportunity to camp under the stars for a couple of nights. It was really beautiful, the forests were very uniform as they were in a logging area, but so peaceful and quiet. We spent most of the day roaming around, and the evenings huddled around a blazing fire, as it was freezing believe it or not!

So 3 days out in the bush, then another week and a half just hanging out at Dorons new place in Melbourne. It was a welcome break after so long moving from hostal to hostal. One day we hired a car and drove to the Great Ocean Road and saw the most amazing sunset over the Twelve Apostles (photos to come later). We did a fair bit of walking around Melbourne, and managed to squeeze in a pub crawl to the busy schedule.

Then all too soon, it started to feel like time to leave while I still had the motivation to do so. Due to a serious diminishing of funds in New Zealand, and a realisation that Australia is even more expensive, I changed my flights and decided to go from Melbourne straight to Bangkok. So I didn't see much more of Australia, other than the amazing sight of flying over the great red interior which goes on FOREVER! We flew right over Ayres Rock which was a bit of a bonus, except I had a seat over the wing so I only saw it for a split second. Still never mind!

And that was it - Australia ticked off the list (kind of!)

New Zealand conquered!

angelas_away — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 13:08:00 GMT

So today is my last day in New Zealand, after 4 weeks of travelling around. As everybody said to me beforehand, the south island IS much more fun than the north island and I started to cheer up a couple of weeks ago... eventually!

Picking up from my last story, I hung out at the SPCA dog shelter for a few days and really enjoyed getting stuck in with cleaning kennels, feeding the dogs and walking them. I also made a couple of good friends so it was a good thing to do all in all.

After that, me and the 2MAD van drove down to Lake Taupo in the middle of the north island. This is a well known tourist destination, the lake is huge and beautiful, and there's lots of bungy jumps, sky dives etc for those with money. I opted for an afternoon on indoor climbing, on a whim as I drove past the climbing centre. The climbing instructor was a nice guy from Holland, and afterwards we went to drink a couple of beers in some local thermal springs and talk about life back in Europe.

Next day, lonng drive down to Wellington, killed a few hours in town and then got a late ferry across to the south island. I arrived at midnight and parked up on a quiet residential street for some kip, making sure I was up before the locals in the morning! From the ferry port at Picton, I drove towards Nelson where I met some hippies who were camping in a carpark on the way. They were doing a long walk to raise awareness of environmental problems in New Zealand, and filled me in a bit more on dairy farming and the water pollution it causes. Hmm.

Next stop was Abel Tasman national park, where I camped overnight in a huge Department of Conversation campground by the sea. The coast is known as Golden Bay, and when I walked down to the shore to watch the sunset, I realised why - the sand is an amazing deep apricot colour. Unfortunately the area is plagued by sand flies and my legs were bitten all over within minutes. Next day I went for a 4 hour brisk walk up the side of a mountain to look down over the top end of the south island. I hardly saw another soul and really enjoyed the feeling of being on my own in woods and mountaings again.

After that I drove down the west coast to Westport, which was quite uneventful except as I was leaving there the next morning, a girl approached me as I put fuel in the van to ask if I was heading to Queenstown. She offered to pay half the fuel, and so I had a passenger. It was really nice to have some company, we got on well and suddenly New Zealand started to feel more like fun. We headed down to Queenstown over a couple of days, which is where I was meeting a friend from England, Leigh. All the way down the west coast were gorgeous deserted beaches, we were spoiled for choice for lunch stops. The weather was warm and sunny, bright blue skies but just the beginning of a cool wind as the winter is approaching.

On the way down the coast, we stopped at Fox Glacier - a small town built around a mountain with an ice glacier. We decided to do a half day walk up the glacier which was really quite amazing, the ice is hundreds of years old and apparently the whole glacier moves by a metre or so every day. First we had to climb a steep hill for 15 minutes or so, then 500 steps cut into a mountain! Then we came out level with the glacier so we could walk out onto it. We had crampons (metal spikes) to fit to our boots n everything. It was really cool, although my feet were freezing after 20 minutes of standing on the ice.

Once we got to Queenstown, we let our hair down and partied - not that we had much choice as Leigh had an itinerary for the first night which involved two Jagerbombs (Jagermeister and Red Bull) in quick succession, then 3 G&Ts, then 50 minutes in Minus Five, a vodka ice bar, where we necked 3 Vodka cocktails and didn't have to wait long for the combination of freezing temperature and strong drinks to knock us off our feet. Next we went to a bar with a huge roaring fire and comfy leather seats, and predictably the end was near..

Next day, hungover, we went to try the Luge which is a kind of go-kart track which starts at the top of a big hill and you slide down the concrete track on plastic boards with handles and a pull-back brake. Leigh insisted that I wasn't to use the brakes, but I did and so it wasn't me that got the cart up on its side nearly resulting in a severed hand...

For our last full day in Queenstown, Leigh and I went paragliding. Queenstown is basically adrenalin-junky-central and people go there to jump out of planes or do massive bungy jumps. I felt that I should do 'something' but skydiving was really expensive and I was scared, I admit it. So instead we strapped ourselves to a pilot each, and ran off the end of a mountain hoping that the parachute would stay open and catch our weight. Actually it was much less scary and more fun than it sounds. I was surprised how easy and calm it was once we were flying, although I did scream a bit when my pilot started turning into the wind, making us fly round as though we were on a swing hurtling towards the forests below. In 10 minutes it was all over and we landed gracefully on the ground. Luckily the DVD and photos don't show the attractive shade of green that my face had turned.

So next day it was time to leave Queenstown, yet again with a hangover from hell after a repeat of the first night in the ice bar. We made it as far as a town called Milton and decided to stop in a hostal that sounded fun from the guide book. Actually it was so good we stayed for 2 nights. It was run by a Swiss guy called Tony who had once cycled halfway across the world and was by his own admission a little eccentric but a really nice person. The first night, we sat down to watch a DVD about Tibet which was very interesting and timely. I realised that Tibet and Buddhism and self-awareness are topics that have been coming up a lot lately, and I took this particular stop as another sign, although of what I'm still not sure. Anyway I feasted on his huge collection of books and learned a bit more about myself and Life. On the second day, Tony took us to see the 20 acres of land that he bought a few years ago - completely overgrown, untouched land covered in huge old trees, which he plans to use for a tree house some day. We picked some fruit and mushrooms, then went back to read in hammocks in the sunny garden. Quite an idyllic couple of days, which was just what we needed after Queenstown. Tony was very sad to see us go, and actually I was sad to leave.. but time was moving on.

And so we drove the 320km to Christchurch, arriving at night very tired. Next day was time to drop the campervan off, which has been my home for the last month - quite a sad moment. Well it was until Wicked charged me $20 for returning it 2 hours late. Later that day Sarah and I hopped on a bus to Kaikoura for our last excursion in New Zealand. This is up on the east coast, is famous for whales, dolphins and penguins, and is a lovely combination of bright blue ocean and snow-topped mountains.

Tomorrow morning, I head back to Christchurch for my flight to Melbourne, Australia. Once again I am not particularly excited about this part of my trip. All I hear about the east coast of Australia, which is where I'm going, is that it is expensive and touristy. Yuk. So considering my rapidly disappearing funds, I think I will only spend 2 weeks in Oz and get to Thailand as quickly as I can. I guess I could be wrong, but we'll have to wait and see for the next exciting instalment won't we!

Life and milk and things...

angelas_away — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 15:16:00 GMT

First off, I've decided to stop drinking milk. No particular reason for mentioning it on here, other than the fact that making a public declaration means I'll be more likely to stick to it. It all started when I stayed at the house in Warkworth with the family that rescued me from a night of kipping in the stables with the horses. The house was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hills and farmland. All night, some bulls in a nearby field were bellowing and it really started to get to me, they sounded so unhappy. And so we got to talking about dairy farming... and thats when it all changed.

I guess I just thought that cows eat grass and produce milk - end of. Nope apparently not. They only produce milk while they're lactating, like all mammals. And they only lactate if they give birth, common sense yeah? So to get maximum milk yield from a normal black and white dairy cow, they snatch their calves when they're just a few days old, sometimes only 24 hours after giving birth. Then they milk the cows daily, ignoring the bellows and cries as they grieve for their lost babies, until the milk dries up.. at which point they are mated and get pregnant again, and the whole cycle starts again.

As for the calves, well I read that the lucky ones are the boys that are killed within a few days of being born, as they are no use except for cheap quality veal. The unlucky boys who go onto become "quality veal" are put into crates for the first 8 weeks of their sorry lives where they can't move, as any kind of muscle development in the baby changes the pale colour of the veal meat and knocks 20% off its value. They never see the light of day and are killed while they are still babies. The girls will probably go onto be dairy cows, and so will be fed milk from fake teats until they are ready to enter the dairy cycle. Apparently a cow left alone in a field to chew grass and live a happy life would live 21 years, but they rarely pass 3 years as a dairy cow.

Shocking horrible stuff, I don't know how I've made it this far in my life as a vegetarian without this sinking in. As this is my blog and you don't have to read it, I'm not going to apologise for using this opportunity to rant and preach! More info here for anyone that might care: http://www.factoryfarming.org.uk/dairy.html. What is also shocking is how dairy products are in Everything! Its proving really hard to exclude it, no more chocolate, yoghurts, even some crisps have milk protein in. I could never have done this whilst in Peru, but I'm gonna give it a good go now.

Onto other topics, for those that are still reading, hehe. So all the time I was in South America, particularly the last couple of months, so many things were happening that I can only now explain as the Universe conspiring to line things up for me. It might sound mad, but it was definitely happening! As one girl I met put it, travelling like this when you're open-minded and open-hearted, is like being in another dimension. You collide with other people who are just the right people for you to meet at that time, and everything seems to have a purpose.. its fate at work big time. Actually her theory, which I like, is that its not all happening TO me, I'm subconsciously making it happen. Either way, its crazy and thrilling. Since arriving in New Zealand, I've been worried that Life has forgotten about me, or maybe won't be able to find me amongst all these people! I resigned myself to having an easy holiday type experience, and hope that I remembered all the lessons I learned about myself and my life while I was in Peru.

So yesterday I picked up my campervan (which by the way is WICKED http://www.flickr.com/photos/15572145@N04/2361587783/) and looked forward to 3 weeks of solo travel. No chance Life or the Universe is gonna have chance to talk to me now, as I probably won't talk to ANYONE at this rate!

But it always finds a way. Today I was driving my little van, singing away, and it was a while before I realised I'd taken a wrong turn. Instead of heading down the coast, I was heading inland back to a town I visited yesterday! But before I had time to correct my error, I drove past a flapping black thing at the side of the road and was screeching to a halt and legging it back in a split second. A big wild black bird had been hit by a car I guess, and seemed to have broken its leg. I wrapped it in pillow cases (went prepared) and put it in the van. No chance of going back the way I meant to go now, as the bird was priority. So I carried on towards the 'wrong' town, figuring I'd find a vets somewhere to drop the bird off. The roads started to look familiar, and I suddenly had a flashback of a place I'd passed yesterday called "SPCA"... though I had no idea what it was or even if it was actually in this town or not. Next second, I passed a sign that said "SPCA - Animal Care"! I pulled in and took the bird in to see if they could help. Well guess what, its also a dog shelter. I got talking to the woman there, she was saying how busy she always is and there's all these dogs that need rehoming etc. I blurted out, "do you need any help for a few days?" and she said yes! So I'm going in tomorrow morning to help in another dog shelter, and all cos of that bird! Just goes to show, Life always has a way of tracking you down as long as you're listening to what it has to say.

As for the bird, it went to a nearby vet and they're going to call me to let me know if it makes it. Fingers crossed x

First impressions of New Zealand

angelas_away — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 14:10:00 GMT

After spending a day in Auckland, my first impression was: GET ME OUT OF THIS CITY! There's nothing wrong with Auckland itself, just that being back in a big city was horrible. Traffic, noise, huge busy streets lined with shops, people buzzing around like ants on their oh-so-important missions. I'm think I'm much more sensitive to it now, having spent so long in places like Peru and Bolivia; it was actually making me feel ill. Within just a few hours of walking around, I felt irritable, stressed, claustrophobic - emotions I haven't experienced since leaving England 4 months ago.

So I rushed back to my hostal, sat down at the travel desk and said, how do I get out of here NOW?! They sold me a flexible bus ticket and pointed me in the direction of Paihia, up towards the north end of the North island.

Paihia, 4 hours north of Auckland, is in the Bay of Islands. Its really quite beautiful, lots of green farmland, rolling hills, blue seas. But somehow, I just felt underwhelmed. Its so neat, so nice and well-to-do. It lacks the wildness of South America... I guess thats obvious but I'm finding it hard to adjust. I booked on a boat trip to see the dolphins that live in the Bay; a big group of us went out for 4 hours on a huge catamaran. It was a pretty cool trip, we went right out to sea and the waves were big, nearly everyone got seasick except the brave few of us who stood out on the front of the catamaran, holding on for dear life and screaming every time we took off over a wave and were left hanging in the air for a split second, before crashing back down again. After 3 hours we headed back to the coast having seen no sign of dolphins or whales. Finally we came across a pod of 3 common dolphins: the plan is for people to get in the water and swim with them if possible, but there are strict laws governing human interaction with dolphins and the boats aren't allowed to harass them. The skipper took the decision that they weren't really playing ball and so, after watching them swim around the boat for 15 minutes, we headed back to shore. It was still amazing to see them up close, the water was really clear and they were quite big dolphins. I had a sudden sense of how free they were, and I suddenly welled up with tears which surprised me. I'm glad we left them alone rather than force ourselves on them.

After that I went to sit on the picturesque beach and looked out at the perfect bay with sparkling blue waters but still feeling slightly underwhelmed. I got talking to a man on the beach who offered to buy me fish and chips, and we chatted for a while about destiny, the randomness of life, y'know the usual conversation topics for fish n chips! ;) I had a vague plan the next day to head back south and stop at Pakiri Beach, between Paihia and Auckland, as I heard of a horse riding place there. This guy said he was heading south too and offered me a lift in his truck.

So next day we set off early and arrived at Pakiri Beach at about 10:30am, where he dropped me off. I hung around the stables for a couple of hours before going out at 1pm for a half day ride. I was riding a lovely pony called Chico who was only 4 years old and really good fun. We crossed a stream, walked up over a sand bank... and then I saw Pakiri beach for th first time. Wowww, the most stunning beach I have ever seen! Miles and miles of fine white sand, completely empty and completely unmarked except for the footprints of seabirds. The water was aquamarine blue and when the waves rolled onto the shore, they were crystal clear. We walked for ages, maybe half an hour, in complete silence, just taking in the tranquility of the place. The rest of the group were inexperienced riders, so a couple of times me and one of the guides took a different route so we could canter, which was wicked! Once, she warned me that we had a sharp right turn coming up, followed by a drop down. We kicked the horses into action and they took off, galloping up a sandy hill and then suddenly SHARP RIGHT! I just managed to hang on, my hat was falling down over my eyes but I saw just in time the BIG DROP DOWN - and Chico's head disappeared as he raced down it, me hanging on for dear life! It was so much fun, I was laughing for ages afterwards. We were out for nearly 4 hours in total, and it was one of the best rides I've had.

After the ride, back at the stables, I had to face up to a dilemma. I hadn't realised how remote the stables were from the nearest town, and I had no accommodation booked even if I could get to the town. And its Easter weekend, so everywhere is going to be full. Oops. As we were fairly close to Auckland, I hoped that I could get a lift back with somebody, but nothing seemed to come up... Then a lady who had overheard me asking the stable staff for help, said that she and her family were going to a nearby town called Warkworth and I was welcome to get a lift with them. I agreed, as this was on the bus route back to Auckland for which I had a ticket the following day, and I was sure I'd be able to find a B&B or hostal or something once I was there. But as we drove, the family suggested I go back and stay with them, and they would drive me to the bus stop the next morning. And so, Carole, Erin, Anita, Trinity, Jamie, Nanny Katay and I, not to forget the Dachschunds Fonz and Kizzy, all went back to Carole's beautiful house which has amazing views of the rolling hills and woods, and is inhabited by funny fluffy chickens, a goat, a cockatiel who think she's a stripper, and the dogs. We ate dinner and drank wine made from a fruit that I can't remember the name of and sat talking on the verandah which was lit by the huge full moon. Before bed we went to look for glowworms in the garden, but the moonlight was too bright. The next morning, I woke up to calls of Happy Easter from Trinity and Jamie who were already eating easter eggs. We all had breakfast on the verandah, and they gave me an easter card that everybody had written in. After breakfast, they drove me into town and dropped me off at the bus stop. I don't think I have ever experienced such kindness; for them to take a stranger into their home and go to such lengths to make me feel welcome was lovely, and now I really feel like I have arrived in New Zealand!

Next stop is, well I'm not sure exactly where yet. I just booked a Wicked Campervan which I pick up on Tuesday and will have for the next 3 weeks, so I can drive around at my leisure and sleep in the van! Really excited about it all now :)

Leaving South America... the end of phase one

angelas_away — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 20:21:00 GMT

I'm actually writing this from New Zealand, having arrived here at 3am this morning (Wednesday). I was really sad to be leaving South America, I've had such an amazing time and feel I have changed and learnt so much in the 4 months I spent there. I have no doubt I will be back, and hopefully soon.

To fill in any remaining blanks, after leaving Cusco I headed to Arequipa which is down in the south of Peru near the Chilean border. A few of you wrote in with a question (ok just one person, thanks Dad): wanting to know what was the great turnaround that happened when I got to Cusco. I probably didn't make it very clear, but the Puppy Incident was what happened to change everything. It may not sound so significant to anyone reading this, but it was hugely significant to me and is yet another sign pointing me in the right direction. But more on that later, I'm sure...

So I arrived in Arequipa and ended up staying there for 2 nights after meeting a girl in the hostel who I got on with really well, so I decided to hang around a bit longer as we had a lot to chat about. Arequipa is a nice town, the main square is very big and grand compared to some in Peru and the climate is lovely, hot sun and blue skies: very welcome after cold Cusco.

Next stop was Tacna which is right on the border with Chile. This was a 7 hour bus journey from Arequipa through endless scorching desert; the bus was boiling and there was no air conditioning. The border crossing into Arica, Chile was relatively painless, but still involved an hour or so of standing around in queues and having bags searched. I arrived in Arica in the late afternoon, and was pleased to find my hostal was a very laid back affair, with a huge kitchen, a 3 bed room which I had to myself and a friendly boxer dog to keep me company while I drank Chilean red wine and ate vegetable pasta.

Early start the next morning, but then it all went a bit wrong. Having got a bit confused about the time differences between Peru and Chile (I thought it was 1 hour but right now its 2 hours) I managed to miss my morning flight to Santiago. This meant I had to spend all day in Arica on the beach, in jeans, hiking boots and with a heavy rucksack.. bummer. Still I made the most of it and had a nice wander around, I'm pretty good at passing hours doing nothing now. Luckily I did make the next flight to Santiago at 9pm that night.

So I get to the Santiago hostal at 2am and have to make my bed (top bunk) in the dark with a torch, whilst trying not to wake the other 3 girls who are unfortunate enough to be sharing a room with me. I was a bit annoyed at having to do this, but any irritation at the hostel quickly evaporated in the morning when I was woken up by shouts of 'pancakes!' by the hostal owner. It was the best breakfast I have had in a long time, banana pancakes with syrup, yoghurts, muesli, fruit... yum! Pity I was only staying that one night! I randomly met a girl who was taking over my bed the following night, we hit it off and hung out for the day wandering through Santiago and sharing our life stories with each other. Yet another meeting that seemed to be coincidental but is clearly not... the universe is conspiring to make me meet interesting people, I'm sure of it!

So 11pm Monday night, I took off from Santiago and headed to New Zealand. As I said, its the end of an amazing time and South America, Peru in particular, has secured a place in my heart. New Zealand has quite a lot to live up to...!

A sentimental story

angelas_away — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 17:15:00 GMT

Whilst recoverering from the night out in Cusco, I found myself yet again feeding stray dogs on the street. A young ginger dog that looked a bit like Jack caught my attention, because his ribs were sticking out so much. I bought a muffin from the street vendor nearby and held it out to the dog. He responded by diving down on his front legs in classic puppy I-want-to-play pose, and then lifting his paw high in front of his face as if to say, "come on then!". Then he snatched the muffin and woolfed it down, paper and all. So I bought another two muffins and played and fed him for a bit, until he got bored. Further down the road, I bought a couple of stuffed potatoes (mashed potato wrapped around chopped vegetables and then fried in oil until crispy on the outside) from another street vendor, partly for me and partly incase I came across any more starving dogs on my way. Sure enough, a dog with a coat like a husky and light blue eyes started following me and took one of the potatoes (I scoffed the other one though, they´re delicious!). A couple of times I noticed a small black and white dog hanging around in the background, not close enough to be a contender for the food but noticeable because she was so small and didn´t look like she belonged on the street.

That night, after a small group of us had had dinner, we were walking to Paddy´s to meet the others. We got to the Plaza de Armas, and I saw the black and white dog again. She stood out because she was so small and clean; stray dogs are always dirty and bedraggled. Her tail was as far between her legs as it would go and she looked frightened to death. All around here were people and cars and chaos. I bent down to stroke her and she just froze. Without even thinking what I was doing, I picked her up and held her against my chest. She tucked her nose into my jacket, wrapped her paws around my neck, and just like that, we found each other.

I carried on walking to Paddys thinking, what the hell am I going to do now? I knew from the minute I picked her up that I wouldn´t leave until I´d been able to either find her original home, as she looked like she was lost or dumped rather than a stray, or find her a new home. I had a bus booked to Arequipa at 8:30am the next day but that was now looking unlikely. The doorman at Paddys looked at me a bit oddly but said I could take her into the bar with me. Everyone else in the bar looked at me a bit oddly but then got back to their drinks and forgot about me. She cuddled up on my lap with her head under my arm so she couldn´t hear or see anything, and went to sleep. I figured she was about 6 months old, if that, as she still had a cute spotty belly like a puppy, and was almost certainly a springer spaniel. Sometimes she would lift her head and look up at me with her quiet brown eyes and long eyelashes, she reminded me so much of Jess when she did that. I knew she was confused and had no idea what was going on, so I made sure I was always there for her when she looked up at me, to tell her it was all going to be ok.

After half an hour in the pub, I decided my only option was to go to the hostel I stayed at when I was in Cusco before. The owner, Lesley, had a great place up in the mountains and seemed to love dogs, and she was the only person I knew in Cusco. We got in a taxi and the puppy huddled against me, having now given up hope of understanding what was happening. We got to the hostel but Lesley wasn´t there. Miguel said I should come back in the morning as he thought she might be able to help. I decided to try to smuggle the puppy into my hotel, but knew that if they wouldn´t let me in, I´d have to find somewhere to spend the night with her as I couldn´t just leave her now.

The porter at the hotel said No way, but I pleaded and promised she´d be out in the morning, and miraculously he said yes! So she slept on my bed, snuggled against me all night, sometimes making little whimpering noises and licking my hand. I was completely in love with this little puppy, and wished there was a way I could take her with me to NZ.

In the morning she was a bit more playful, jumping around the hotel room and play-biting my hand. I went down for breakfast and sneaked up an egg sandwich which she ate as though she was starving. Then she did a wee on the floor, bless her, which I cleaned up quickly and decided it was time to get out of there. I picked her up again, wrapped her in my fleece and put the hood up over her head. Kylee´s group was in reception getting ready to leave, so I called for her to make a diversion and walked through the lobby and outside. We jumped in another taxi and headed back to San Blas, to see if Lesley was there. On the walk from the taxi to the hostel, I experimented with putting her on the floor to walk but she panicked and started following somebody else so I carried her again like a little baby, with her breathing down my neck as she rested her head on my shoulder.

At the hostel, things started to fall into place. Lesley´s son Simon was there, he immediately welcomed me in, told me to make myself at home with cups of tea and the tv, and that he´d take us both up to Lesley´s place in the mountains in the afternoon to see what we could work out. I was sooo grateful, we went to sit in the lounge and were both soon asleep again; the puppy lying on me so close that I was breathing on her face which seemed to help her sleep. Later Rolando took us in a taxi to a pet shop where I bought a halter and lead and some dog food for her. We went for a walk in the Plaza to see if anyone came rushing up to accuse me of stealing their dog. But nobody claimed her, and she seemed to have no idea where she was, she went up to everybody we passed to sniff them but just got more and more confused, so we went back to the hostel.

Later that afternoon, Simon took us up to the mountains to Lesley´s house. The road was really bumpy and the dog started salivating and licking her lips like she was going to be sick. She looked up at me again and I told her it was going to be alright, and she just sat there like that for the whole journey, her face pointing up to mine so I was breathing on her. When we got to the house, I carried her into the garden as Lesley already has a big dog that used to live wild in the mountains but adopted her a few years ago. There was also a very young puppy that somebody brought to the house just the day before, a little tyrant with one blue eye and one brown eye and very sharp teeth. Both dogs were straight onto my puppy and she just froze, her tail between her legs and looking as scared and miserable as I´ve ever seen a dog look. Not a good start. I put her down and walked around the garden, and she was my shadow, wouldn´t let me get an inch away from her. But after a bit, the other dogs got bored of pestering her, and she got a bit braver and explored little sections of the garden on her own. Still if I got up and moved, she followed me, but she was starting to be a bit more independant. The second one of other dogs came up though, she ran to me and put her front legs on my knees and pleaded with me to pick her up. It was heartbreaking to see her looking so desperate, but I had to try to make her stand on her own two feet.

Finally after maybe an hour or so, she had wandered into the kitchen on her own and eaten some food. She came out with her tail wagging, the first time I´d seen her do that properly. I went to hide out of the way in the garden, and she carried on just wandering around on her own. I felt like a proud mum, but also so sad as I knew I had to leave her. Simon said he was ready to go back into town, and so I just went without saying goodbye to her. Lesley had picked her up and I´m sure she was just fine, but I cried most of the way home cos that little puppy had really stolen my heart!

Retracing my steps - big night out in Cusco

angelas_away — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 16:22:00 GMT

Well a drunken promise for a "big night out in Cusco" is one thing... but it was quite another when, with the hangover from hell from the night before in Puno, I boarded a bus for the 7 hour journey to Cusco. Kylee´s tour group had left at 7am that morning on their tour truck, but I opted to sleep in and make my own way at lunchtime. Despite a bit of sleep on the bus, I was shattered when I arrived and checked into the hotel later that night. It suddenly seemed like a long way to go for a night out. The group had left a message for me at reception telling me where they had gone, and I decided to meet them later after dinner... because the truth be known, I had been visualising the green thai curry at Indigos all the way from Puno and nothing was going to stop me. I sank a couple of vodka red bulls with my dinner to fight the tiredness, and met them all at about 11pm in Paddy´s Irish Bar, a very classy joint.

Before we all fell asleep at the bar, we decided to hit the clubs. For anyone that doesn´t know, Cusco has a massive reputation for nightlife and general hedonism and craziness. It is gringo central, swarming with travellers who have come for Machu Picchu treks or maybe just for the nightlife. So first up was Mythology, which was pretty cool, good music, and the whole group was dancing and having a laugh. After a while though, it seemed to empty and there were more locals than tourists, probably because the music had switched to salsa and reggaeton, and the local girls were kicking our ass on the dancefloor. So we went next door to Mama Africa, and thats where things took a downhill turn in the class stakes... We walked in to find a packed sweaty club full of tourist clubbers, so far so good. There were strobe lights, good dance music, lively atmosphere. Then at some point, the DJ decided it was a good time to play "You can keep your hat on" by Tom Jones. Yes, the famous stripping song from The Full Monty. On cue, a woman jumped onto the bar and took her top and bra off, closely followed by a young lad who very gracefully and not at all drunkenly, slipped his trousers off followed by his underwear. They were gyrating all over the bar, and maybe I´m becoming a prude in my old age, but it was just pretty vile after a bit. I sat down to avert my eyes, only to be faced with a Peruvian girl lap dancing over every man in a 5 metre radius. She then jumped up and caught hold of the TV mounted on the ceiling, where she continued her routine swinging from a height. I was starting to feel like this was just a meat market, which is really not my scene. The members of Kylee´s tour group were also starting to "mix it up a bit" and nobody was really sure who was with who. I made a quick decision to get the hell out of there, and left them all to it!

Next day we were all Cusco casualties, wandering around in a still-drunken daze trying to spot the guy who had been dancing with no trousers on. Kylee and I went for lunch, then back to the hotel for a couple of hours sleep before venturing out again later for a very quiet dinner and a comforting bottle of red wine. The group was leaving early in the morning for the Sacred Valley, before starting a 4 day hike to Machu Picchu. I was booked on a bus to Arequipa down in the south of Peru, ready for my exit to Chile. Things took another unexpected turn that night after dinner though, and again it deserves its own blog entry...

Copacobana and Lake Titicaca

angelas_away — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 03:20:00 GMT

After leaving La Paz for the second time, and saying farewell to my new friend Kylee, I took a bus to Copacobana, a small town on the Bolivian shores of Lake Titicaca (read a bit about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Titicaca). I treated myself to a nice hotel, a sister hotel of the Rosario in La Paz, and was rewarded with amazing views over the lake from my room. Unfortunately I was still suffering from some kind of altitude sickness, which was making it impossible for me to sleep at night as I kept having breathing problems. This had been going since I arrived in Cusco a few weeks ago and was really starting to get me down as I was so tired.

As a result, I missed the early boat next morning to the Isle del Sol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Titicaca#Isla_del_Sol) on the lake, and had to take an afternoon boat. That kind of screwed my plans to just spend a day on the island so I decided I would spend the night there and spend the next full day walking. Its hard to imagine an island in the middle of a lake that is big enough that it takes the best part of a day to walk around. But then when you consider that the lake is 190km long, and has around 40 islands on it, including Isle del Sol which is 7km long, then you start to get an idea of how huge this lake it.

The boat takes a couple of hours to hit the south shore of the island, and from there it was a very long difficult walk up steps that are cut into the island as it rises up steeply from the water. A local boy jogged alongside me for a while and offered to carry my rucksack for a couple of Bolivianos. In the interests of helping the local economy (and saving my back!) I gladly let him take it. He also gave me a guide along the way, pointing out the direction of the Incan ruins and showing me indigenous plants that are used for cooking. He led me to a tiny village at the top of the islands´ steep sides, where there were a few restaurants and a couple of hostels. There were also the tiny houses of some of the islanders, with their small walled gardens in which grazed donkeys and pigs.

After dropping my bags in my room, which was lovely and bright with a huge window looking out onto the lake below, I decided to avoid the travellers who were gathering on the terrace for the sunset. I went for a walk towards where the boy said the Incan ruins where, but got distracted along the way by the beautiful setting of the island. I decided just to enjoy the walk rather than heading anywhere in particular.. after all, I´ve seen enough Incan ruins lately to last me a while. I came across a tiny restaurant hidden in a clump of imported eucalyptus trees, right on the western edge of the island with spectacular views of the lake and the setting sun. There were no other people around, just the friendly Bolivian woman who ran the ´restaurant´ (it was so small you could barely call it that, but the pizza was homemade and tasted great). The only sounds were the donkeys braying to each other across the island and the birds singing their last songs for the day. Once the sun had set, the temperature suddenly dropped and the woman beckoned me inside the house where she had set up a little table with a candle. Her young daughter was doing homework by candlelight, and after she had served my pizza, the woman picked up her knitting and carried on where she had left off. It was such a peaceful and quiet evening that I was in bed by 8pm.

Next morning, after getting up to watch the sunrise at 6am and then grabbing a few more hours sleep, I set off on my walk to the north side of the island. I was told this was about a 3 hour walk, and so I had plenty of time to make the boat that left from the north at 1:30pm. Walking on the island was like going back a few hundred years in time. I didn´t see a single tourist or traveller all day, only a very few locals who were herding their animals and going about their business. There are no cars, motorbikes, bicycles, planes, tvs or radios. The local women are all dressed in their traditional Bolivian dress, with brightly coloured blankets on their backs holding all their belongings, and often their babies too. They don´t talk much, like most Bolivians I had noticed, but generally would respond with a warm smile if I said "buenos dias" as I passed.

There were no signs for the north of the island, but as it was 7km long and only 1km wide, it was pretty easy even for me to see where to go. Having said that, I managed to miss the few sites that had been pointed out to me, and as I didn´t see any other tourists, I assume they must´ve walked a different way. But it was a really beautiful walk, unspoilt land, small farms, tiny houses with chimneys smoking. Towards the end, the path virtually disappeared and I found myself walking across a beach, then climbing up and around the steep rocky face of a hill, walking through wooded areas and hoping that I hadn´t taken a wrong turn somehow. But finally I made it to the port with an hour to spare, to wait for the boat with the group of tourists I had somehow missed all day!

That night, back in the hotel in Copacobana, I decided to take it easy again and have dinner in the hotel. Unfortunately I timed my stay with the arrival of a coach load of retired Irish golfers who had taken over the restaurant. One table kindly offered for me to join them, and it ended up being quite a lively night as they all got steadily more drunk. Their guide was some kind of Irish TV celebrity, I ended up lending him my charango and he had the whole restaurant singing songs about the different counties of Ireland, until I couldn´t take anymore and made my excuses!

Next morning was the mission to Puno, which meant crossing the border back into Peru. This time however, everything went smoothly and easily, and I arrived in Puno at lunchtime. There I met up with my Australian friend from La Paz and her tour group, and we all hit the town later that night after dinner... during which time I vaguely remember promising to go with them to Cusco for a "big night out" the next day...

Stunning Uyuni

angelas_away — Sun, 9 Mar 2008 14:00:00 GMT

Oops I´m falling behind on this journal thing, having adventures quicker than I can write about them! I guess I shouldn´t complain...

So I signed up for a 3 day tour, which would normally start with a visit to the salt flats and the dreaded salt hostel, but I opted to skip that part and pick up the tour later in the afternoon. We had a lonnng drive through quite desolate mountain landscapes before arriving at our hostel for the night which was in a tiny town made mostly of adobe buildings, in the middle of nowhere. We spent the evening getting to know each other - the group consisted of a nice couple from Germany, a French girl and two English girls. The tour driver was a nice bloke, though he didn´t really speak any English but it meant we could all practice our Spanish. Either that or starve really! He also brought along his wife, aka the cook, and their incredibly cute 2 yr old boy who sat patiently in the jeep for hours on end.

The next day we drove about 150kms in total, visiting massive strange rock formations in the middle of desert, beautiful coloured lagoons with flamingos sitting beneath majestic snow-capped mountains, and endless desert roads twisting through the mountains. We stopped periodically at "key photo sites" when we all jumped out of the jeep and wandered around taking pictures. It was really a photo tour in retrospect, but then to see the kind of places that we saw meant driving miles and miles, so I guess there was no other way to do it. If I´d been on my own, I would´ve hung around for longer and just sat down to feel the places, but then if I´d been there on my own, I would probably still be there now trying to find my way home!

That night we stayed at another random little town in the middle of nowhere. This time it was FREEZING. We got to the hostel at about 5pm and had to wait until 8pm for dinner. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no way of staying warm except to put all our clothes on and get in bed to wait! A bottle of gin helped us warm up with dinner, then it was an early night for everyone as we had a 4:30am start next morning!

The only good thing about getting up at that time was the night sky. It was SO full of stars, I have never seen anything like it. Absolutely beautiful, and just about enough to take our mind off the FREEZING weather as we piled into the jeep and scraped the ice off the inside of the windows. The idea behind the early start was two-fold. First, we were going to watch the sunrise at some thermal springs. Next, in order to see the famous Lago Verde (green lake) and get back to Uyuni that evening, we had to do a total of 500kms driving. I was all up for a lie-in and skip the lake, but the driver wasn´t budging.

Anyway, of course, it was all worth it in the end. We got to the thermal springs, which ran down the mountainside and culminated in a small but deep pool which tourists could bathe in, and then the waters continued into the huge lake beyond, which sat at the feet of a towering mountain. The driver told us we could put our swimsuits on and bathe in the pool if we liked. We told him, politely, where to go. It was still below freezing! But a couple of us dangled our legs in the hot water while we watched the spectacular sunrise over the mountain, breathtaking!

After that, a long hard day of driving with some stops along the way for photos and lunch. We got back to Uyuni at about 8pm, shattered, sunburnt and with a camera full of pictures to upload.

Next day I decided to get out of Uyuni. Which is more difficult than it sounds as it is the middle of nowhere with limited trains and notoriously uncomfortable buses. I went for the latter and took an evening bus to Cochabamba, a total of 12 hours travelling. The best way to describe the experience is to imagine, for the ride, a vehicle with triangular wheels driving over ploughed fields for 12 hours. Next, add the sound: imagine a car with no interior and a boot full of metal tools, being driven over road bumps. Add the two together and try to imagine sleeping on it - impossible! I arrived in Cochabamba, found a hostel and slept most of the day!

After a day in Cochabamba, I decided that my planned trip to the animal refuge wasn´t going to happen, it was just too far and I was too tired. So I took another bus back to La Paz, another 8 hours, and chilled out there for a couple of days. I met a cool Australian girl in the hotel and we shopped like lunatics in La Paz´s markets for two days. I bought some lovely silver jewellery, hats, scarves, all kinds of things.. and hardly spent anything, its so cheap.

Kylee left La Paz with her tour group on the third day, and I moved onto Copacobana, which is on the shores of the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca. Look up Lake Titicaca on the net, spare me having to reel off all the statistics! I spent an amazing couple of days there and it also deserves its own blog entry, so more later :)

La Paz to Uyuni

angelas_away — Mon, 3 Mar 2008 13:19:00 GMT

Just as I decided it was time to leave Cusco, I randomly bumped into a girl that I had met 2 months earlier in Iquitos and as it turned out we were both heading in the same direction, we decided to travel together. So that night we boarded a bus from Cusco "direct" to La Paz, capital of Bolivia. Turns out that "direct" was a term used very loosely on this journey. The first 8 hours went fairly smoothly, I somehow managed to sleep a little despite the backache and legache. Then we arrived at the border town of Desaguadero, which I have since seen described as one of the continents´ filthiest towns. We got there at 6am and joined the back of a huge queue for the Peruvian border police to get our passports checked as the first part of a complicated process of border crossing. After 2 hours of not moving, we realised the border police office didn´t open until 8am. That´ll explain it then. So freezing cold, still groggy from trying to sleep on the bus, starving hungry and dying for the toilet, we finally get to the front of the queue where our bags are searched for drugs... this is apparently an opportunity for the police to steal cash from tired and unsuspecting gringos, but unluckily for them I hardly had any.

Next step in the process was Peruvian immigration control. It turned out I had exceeded the allotted 90 days in Peru by 3 days, which meant I had to pay a fine. They wanted the money in Peruvian soles, which was unhelpful as I had just changed my few Peruvian soles into Bolivian pesos seeing as I was about to cross into Bolivia... So I had to hang around for ages while some dodgy guy ran off with my Bolivian cash to exchange it.

Final step was Bolivian immigration, which is where it really got ridiculous. They checked my passport, asked my nationality, and then announced that England wasn´t on their list of countries. Full stop. I said, ermm it definitely exists cos I live there? After being told to wait "un momentito" about a hundred times while everybody else in the queue had their passport stamped, we ended up with a whole team of Bolivian immigration police trying, in their woefully disorganised manner, to solve the problem. The solution was, they finally discovered, that England is part of Great Britain. As printed on the front of my passport. Duh..

I hurried to the Bolivian border a few hundred meters away where our bus was waiting, and made it with minutes to spare before the bus pulled off to continue the journey to La Paz. By the time we arrived in the capital, we were exhausted, starving and ready to drop... and it was about 10am.

I ended up having 3 days in La Paz, taking time to acclimatise to the high altitude (about 3600m above sea level) and explore the weird and wonderful witches markets here, where they sell all kinds of medicines and items that the Bolivians rely on to bring them luck and fortune. One of the main features of the markets is, sadly, dried llama foetuses... they are everywhere, at different stages of development and some quite clearly capable of life had they not been culled, complete with their fur and eyes. Its so shocking to see them, such a terrible sight as there are SO many. Apparently the Bolivians bury them under new buildings to bring them luck. At first I was horrified, and still am when I see them. But having spent a week in Bolivia and seeing the extent of the poverty here, I can almost understand why they place so much reliance and hope on these tokens of luck, however barbaric and outdated they seem to us. The people here have nothing, and no hope of ever having anything. I saw poverty in Peru but really nothing like I have seen here, its so sad. Everywhere there are old women sitting on the pavements, huddled in piles of brightly covered blankets, silently chewing wads of coca leaves which suppress hunger and cold, their deeply wrinkled faces show the misery and hardship of their lives. They try to make "a living" if you can call it that, by selling knitted finger puppets or small bags of popcorn, each fetching 1 Boliviano. To put that in context, there are 15 Bolivianos to a British pound. Even worse are the old people who are almost or completely blind, incapable of more than a painful shuffle to rummage from one rubbish bin to another looking for something to eat. To see people living like that is heart-breaking, they have no family, no-one ever talks to them or even acknowledges that they exist. I saw one old man who had a deep knife slash across his face and shockingly, both his hands had been cut off and he had nothing but stumps to clutch an upturned hat to beg for a few coins. His hands had probably been chopped off as punishment for stealing... maybe a loaf of bread to feed his family, who knows. Its hard to walk around ignoring the many people who are pleading for money, especially the really young children with dirty faces who rub their stomachs and say in poor English, "please, food". How can you ignore that?!

Anyway after a few days of immersion in the chaos of La Paz, we were ready to move on. Next stop, a place called Uyuni down in the south of Bolivia which is famous for its salt flats. We opted for the slightly more expensive but much less painful option of flying, rather than the notorious 12 hour bus journey over unpaved roads. The first half of the journey was ok, then we changed planes at Cochabamba and boarded an old propellor-driven plane which held about 16 people. With my newfound sense of adventure, I was excited rather than scared, even when the pilot (wearing chinos and a brown leather flying jacket..) fired up the engine and it sounded like my old mini with a blown exhaust. But half an hour into the journey, the rough motion and intense heat from the sun started to make me feel sick (or maybe it was the appallingly bad Katie Holmes movie that they were playing during the flight). It took every bit of control to not vomit for the next hour, and even for a good few hours after we landed, I felt sick. Yuk, I won´t be repeating that journey.

My first sight of Uyuni was quite a shock. Its a small town in the middle of nowhere, with hardly any cars, lots of seemingly empty buildings and loads of stray dogs roaming the streets. I could feel another dog-rescue mission coming on again and warned my companion accordingly.

Our mission for the trip was to get to a salt hostel near or on the salt flats (literally, a hostel made of salt) and after a day or two of exploring the area independently, we would book one of the well known tours to see the rest of the area. We found a tour agent who sold us 2 nights in a salt hostel for a bargain price of 70 Bolivianos (about 4 quid) including breakfast and dinner! That afternoon we jumped in the agents jeep and set off to our destination, which was conveniently located in a small town so we could buy provisions if we needed. Or so they said. When we got there, the "town" was nothing more than a collection of dilapidated and mainly uninhabited buildings. Worse, the "hostel" had no running water - not even for flushing toilets, washing or showering - and it turned out during our first nights stay, that dinner and breakfast was NOT included. The hostel is used mainly as a one night stop over for organised tour groups, who bring their own food and cooking equipment. Luckily one of the groups contributed some of their food for our dinner so we didn´t starve.

Despite the complete lack of facilities, watching the sunset that evening was stunning, in a landscape which was desert for as far as the eye could see, with the faint outline of mountains on the horizon. As it got dark, a storm started up in the distance and I stood outside for a long while, wrapped in my llama wool poncho and drinking coca tea (proper hippie!), watching the lightning streaking down to the ground and lighting up the whole sky like daylight. Later that night it turned into a full on hail storm which threatened to blow in the windows of our bedroom.

Next morning however, the sun was out and the sky was blue. All the tour groups had departed... and so apparently had any chance of breakfast. A Bolivian woman who I thought was the cook eventually got it across to me that there was no coffee or tea, no milk, no food. Breakfast was NOT included. Out of sympathy, she managed to produce some stale bread rolls and some eggs from her own food supplies, and boiled us a kettle of water. Soon after, she left with her husband, taking the cooking gas and water supplies with them. We were stranded in the hostel alone. At first it was kind of funny (kind of) but then we started to get seriously worried as we realised we could be there all day with no way back into town. A few tour groups turned up for lunch on their way to the salt flats, but they had no room for us in their jeeps and soon departed as well.

By the early afternoon, we were seriously worried and decided to walk "into town" to look for a lift. By pure luck, we found a Swiss guy who was travelling around South America in his jeep, and was heading to the salt flats. He kindly offered us a lift, and we jumped at the chance of getting out of the hell hostal. We had quite an exciting drive across the salt flats, which were partially flooded and so it was like driving across the Antarctic except it was really hot and the ground was salt not ice. Its an amazing landscape, blindingly white and almost impossible to see where the land ends and the sky starts. We eventually arrived at our next destination.. and that of every other tour-group-in-a-jeep: the salt hotel. This place is apparently $60 a night, but was no more luxurious than the hell hostal, with beds made of blocks of salt covered by bumpy old mattresses, little or no running water and disgusting toilets. Luckily they had no rooms free, so after taking a few photos and letting the strangeness of the vast salt landscape sink in, we jumped back in the jeep and headed back to Uyuni town, hooray! As an added bonus I got to ride on top of the jeep and had some really amazing views from so high up.

Back in Uyuni, there is nothing to do but sit around and chill. The whole town seems to have been built around tourism, and the main plaza is full of backpackers who are either waiting for their tour to depart, or waiting for a bus out of there. The plaza itself consists of tour agencies, pizzerias and shops selling hats, scarves, ponchos etc made from llama and alpaca wool. The sun is HOT, it burns quickly and had us taking off layers like we were on the beach. But as soon as you step in the shade, its cold and my fingers were blocks of ice as I drank endless glasses of lemonade to pass the time.

Enough was enough, we needed a plan. My travelling companion decided she´d seen enough salt to last her a lifetime, and jumped on a plane back to Cusco. I booked myself on a 3 day tour to see the rest of the sights of Uyuni. That is enough for a blog entry in itself, and will have to wait for another day!

The wonders of Cusco

angelas_away — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 18:36:00 GMT

After all the excitement of the archaelogical sites in Chiclayo, I decided it was high time for some serious beach action.. so I spent two weeks in Huanchaco, a sleepy little town on the coast near Trujillo with a long golden beach, hot sunny days and big waves to attract the surfers. I became very good at doing nothing - long sleep-ins, late breakfast, a slow walk along the beach, maybe a couple of hours sunbathing, and if I was exerting myself, then a surfing lesson or two. But eventually, believe it or not, doing nothing becomes kinda boring and it was soon feeling like time to go. So I hopped on a plane to Lima, and then another plane to Cusco, which is a bit extravagant by backpackers standards but I didn´t fancy the 28 hour bus journey to Cusco.

Actually the 28 hour bus journey would´ve got me there quicker, as the hour long flight to Cusco turned a bit hairy as the pilot tried to land, found himself in thick cloud avoiding much-too-close-mountains, and eventually announcing it was too dangerous - so we ended up having to go back to Lima. Luckily the airline put everybody up in a half decent hotel with dinner and breakfast included, and another flight booked in the morning. And so on 9th February I arrived in Cusco.. and immediately found out how the altitude (3300m) makes it so difficult to get around until you have acclimatised. I spent a few days doing what I now do best... absolutely nothing. Eventually I felt I was capable of walking more than a few steps without gasping, and took a trip up the hill behind Cusco to an old Incan site called Saqsaywaman. This site is huge, with typical Incan stones cut and placed with amazing accuracy to form massive walls in a zig-zag form. There were a couple of other Incan sites nearby which I saw too, including Incan baths, all with the same characteristic huge stones and air of mystery around what the places were used for.

The next day I decided to take part in a san pedro ceremony through the hostal that I am staying in. Its a cool hostal, very "new-age" and occupied by some very interesting characters. Somehow its one of those places that you feel comfortable in straight away, and I´ve spent many hours curled up on one of the big sofas reading ´The Chronicles of Narnia´ in the tv room. Anyway the san pedro was great; we went up to the hostal owners´house for the ceremony, a woman called Lesley who is quite crazy and lots of fun. She has a lovely house up on the mountainside, looking down over Cusco and surrounded by the most beautiful scenery you could imagine. A group of 4 of us spent all day in her garden, looking dreamily at the exotic flowers and the magical hummingbirds that flew all around us. At the end of the day we left and walked slowly down the mountain back into the city, which was quite an emotional experience for reasons that I can´t really explain.

After another free day of doing nothing, I set off on a 4 day trek to ultimately end up at Machu Picchu. This is pretty much compulsory for anybody coming to South America, and because of that part of me wanted to rebel and not do it. Luckily I didn´t listen to that rebellious part of me, as it was really the most fantastic and amazing place I have ever seen.

The trek itself started early on Friday morning with a 3 hour bus journey, which turned into a 6 hour bus journey as the bus kept breaking down. My travelling companions were Sam, a 28 year old Californian, Craig, a 28 year old Australian and Evan, a 33 year old Kiwi. We all hit it off and it was clearly going to be a fun trip. When we got off the bus in the middle of nowhere, we each had mountain bikes waiting for us and after scoffing a quick packed lunch, we set off on a 40km downhill ride to a tiny town called Santa Teresa. 40km downhill sounds quite easy, but the roads were so horrendously pot-holed and bumpy that soon my backside was numb and I couldn´t move my wrists, hands or fingers. Which isn´t good when you need to keep grabbing the brake lever to avoid trucks, dogs and other bicycles. Still it was lots of fun (I can say that now) and we were well ready for a couple of beers with dinner that night.

Next morning we set off at 6am for a long day of trekking... and boy it was LONG. We left so early to get as far as possible before the sun got hot, but pretty soon I was knackered, my rucksack was weighing a ton on my shoulders, I was drenched with sweat and couldn´t move my legs another step. Unfortunately there was no way to go but up, and it was without doubt the hardest day of my life! We had a couple of welcome stops at tiny huts along the way, where the locals provided cold drinks and snacks and a bench to rest on. The afternoon was broken up by a couple of exciting river crossings - the first, over a very wobbly wooden bridge with loose boards, big gaps and a strong tendency to wobble and bounce. I noticed as I was walking across it that I wasn´t in the slightest bit scared.. which is weird as I think back home I would´ve frozen with fear halfway across and demanded to be rescued! The second crossing was even more thrilling - a metal cable which spanned the river, which can only be described as "raging", via a small metal tray suspended from the cable by rope. Here´s a picture: http://snapshots.travelvice.com/view/peru/santa-teresa-to-aguas-calientes/IMG_6364.JPG.html. My first reaction when I saw it was NOT "ohmygod there´s no way I´m going on THAT" as I would´ve expected; it was more "wicked, can I go first?!". So I hopped on first, wearing my waterproof poncho as it was raining, and it was wicked, just as I thought! Not at all scary for some reason, even when I peered down to the roaring river beneath me.

Anyway a few more hours trekking eventually ended at some very welcome hot springs, in a really peaceful setting in a valley surrounded by mountaings. We chilled there for a couple of hours before hunger drove us to the next town, Santa Maria. Here we had dinner and then hit the local disco for too many beers and bad dancing, having already negotiated a later start the following morning with the tour guide.

Next day THANK GOD was easier - a short bus journey followed by a mind-numbing but easy 10k walk along a train track, which led us right into the heart of a small town called Aguas Calientes. This is a weird place right at the foot of Machu Picchu mountain, which was obviously thrown together in about a week purely to take advantage of the hordes of tourists descending on Machu Picchu. It is horrendously expensive (by Peruvian standards) and there is little to do but drink or eat. After dinner, we crashed... ready for the BIG day that was coming.

The boys all got up at 4am as they had decided to walk up to the top of Machu Picchu. I had no intention of doing anything of the sort, so I "laid in" until 5:15am and caught the tourist bus up. I arrived to find the three of them waiting in the cold morning drizzle, they looked pretty cold but were very proud of their hiking time, which got them to the top before anybody else. And so after a bit of waiting around for the guide and getting through the gate.. we entered the Machu Picchu site. Because the weather was quite grey and cloudy, we didn´t immediately get an impression of the whole site. But actually that added to the mystery of the place, as it was slowly revealed as the cloud cleared and the sun came up. The first thing you think is "what the f**k?!" - because this place is HUGE! The complicated layout, the huge stones so accurately cut and placed, the strange hidden caves and temples and altars, the perfectly angled and cut channels that run through the walls and buildings to drain away water.. its a hugely impressive place. We climbed lots of steps to work our way around the site, and the higher we got, the more impressive it looks. We all decided to climb the Huayna Picchu mountain which towers above Machu Picchu, although I was very hesitant at first, remembering the last couple of days of pain. Here´s a picture of the Machu Picchu site, with Huayna Picchu standing over it - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huayna_Picchu. The climb was pretty steep and mostly involved hands as well as feet, which I really enjoyed; it reminded me of how much I enjoyed climbing. The boys of course ran off ahead, and when I arrived an hour or so later, they were all resting and enjoying the view. And ohmygod, what a view! Its like being at the top of the world... really breathaking and so worth the climb. We stayed up there for a while before tackling the difficult climb down the way we came. By 11am we were done and ready to go back to town, as we´d all decided on a big night out that night to celebrate the end of our trek, and we knew the journey back was going to be a mission. Unfortunately there were some train issues and we had to spend another few hours hanging around in the strange town of Aguas Calientes. Despite brave talk and denial of yawns, we all slept a little on the way back.. but once we arrived in Cusco at 8:30pm, it was game on! The first drink was difficult, the second a bit easier (red bull kicking in by this stage) and then we got into the swing of it. The competition between clubs in Cusco is so fierce in low season that we managed to blag free entry and free drinks just about everywhere we went - I think we did at least 6 different clubs, some of them twice. A very big end to a very big day!

Today is Wednesday and I decided this morning that its time to leave. I haven´t seen all of the "must-do" sites here, but I´ve done enough to feel I know a bit about Cusco, I´ve had fun, and am now ready for the next challenge... which is a bus through to Bolivia to a place called Copacobana (not the same as the Brazilian beach) from where I can visit some islands in the middle of Lake Titicaca which are supposed to be quite magical.

I am VERY sad to be leaving Peru. Its been an emotional, exciting and sometimes completely random 3 months and I feel such a strong connection to this land that I have no doubt I´ll be back. But for now, the adventure continues!

From the Atlantic to the Pacific!

angelas_away — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 20:30:00 GMT

Today, two and a half months after paddling in the seas of the Atlantic ocean in Salvador, Brazil... I paddled in the Pacific ocean on the coast of Peru!! What an amazing thought, I have crossed South America all by myself!

So I left Chachapoyas the day after my last entry. The trip I had planned to Leimebamba was cancelled because of the weather, and it suddenly felt like time to move on. I had made friends with a guy called Luis who ran a local pizza joint, and he held a special "farewell banquet" for me on my last evening, meaning that he would not hear of me paying for my meal and also presented me with some chocolates and a knitted woolly hat as a leaving gift. This is a local custom for Peruvians when saying goodbye to friends apparently, so I was very touched. That night, I had an 11 hour journey by bus to my next destination...

I woke up at 5:30am in Chiclayo. After a slightly stressful time of driving around the city in a taxi looking for a hotel room, I finally found one, albeit a dirty and smelly one... and I didn´t even want to know where the "clean" towel had been. I pulled out my trusty silk sleeping bag which folds up tiny but means I don´t have to touch dirty bedclothes while I sleep, and got my head down for 4 hours. Then I checked out sharpish and went to find a clean place to stay in that night.

Next stop was the tour company that Luis had recommended. As luck would have it, there was a tour already in progress that had just stopped for lunch, so I was hustled into a taxi to meet the group just as they were about to head for the famous museum here in Chiclayo. Its a really striking looking place from the outside, check it out here: http://www.go2peru.com/sipan_museum.htm and it houses the findings from the Moche civilisation that have been excavated all around Chiclayo, particularly the Lord of Sipan who ruled about 1700-1800 years ago. Unfortunately we weren´t allowed to take a camera inside, I so wish I could have as it was the most interesting museum I have ever been in. It is designed really well, so you go along looking at the artifacts in the order they were painstakingly uncovered by the archaelogists. The Moches were very skilled in ceramics and metalwork, and there are incredibly detailed pictures of the people and the life they lived. For example, some pots and paintings depicted the Lord of Sipan himself, showing the jewellery he wore and his part in their many ceremonies including human sacrifice. So when they found the remains of his jewellery, his crown and armour, and the other items he was buried with, they already had a clear picture of exactly how it all looked. There are just no words to describe some of the things in that museum. Huge necklaces made up of terrifying masks, each one carved in gold and copper with turquoise eyes and teeth of shell. Intricate representations in gold of the Lord Sipan himself sacrificing a man, in an inch square size, showing even the detail of his fingernails gripping his sceptre, and the adams´ apple of the victim. There are some pictures on the website, also apparently National Geographic and I think Discovery Channel did pieces on it when the tomb was opened a few years ago, which I would love to see. Finally as we went down to the bottom level of the museum, there was the skeleton of the last Lord Sipan himself, still facing south as he had been in his tomb, and with the contents of the tomb represented around him - his wife at his feet, two dead llamas either side of him (for travel in the afterlife), several guards who were buried with their feet removed so they would forever watch him, and creepily, the body of a young boy who was buried alive (to cleanse the tomb) and a dog who would lead the Lord to his next life... along with something like 2000 ceramic pots filled with food and drink, and an incredible amount of jewellery and weapons and ceremonial cups made of copper, gold, silver, precious stones and shells. Really amazing to see this so close, in so much detail and still preserving the layout and content that they had so carefully planned so many years ago. Wow.

Afterwards, the tour guide was telling us that since the tombs started to be excavated in the late 80s, the local Peruvians have been invited to get involved in the archaelogical work, and he had helped to restore some pots. Its a nice touch so that the people get to keep their treasures and really feel they are still a part of their civilisation. Julio, the guide, told me he was going to the site of the tombs themselves at Sipan (the museum was some distance away) the next day and I could go along with him if I wanted... so of course I jumped at the chance.

So this morning we got a chaotic combi bus in usual Peruvian style, out of town for about 40 minutes into what can only be described as the desert. The Andean mountains are just visible in the distance, but here it is hot and dusty and dry. The tombs are in huge pyramid-like structures (although partially washed away and covered in dirt due to hundreds of years of weather and heavy rain) which apparently dwarf the Egyptian pyramids in terms of overall size of the site and number of stones used. Archaelogists are still at work here, they have only excavated something like 20% of the burial tomb, which contains the remains not only of the last Lord of Sipan, but also previous Lords going right back to the first Lord of Sipan whose remains are 2000 years old. They are all buried in the same pyramid, with each level being closed up on the burial of one Lord, and the next being buried on top.

As well as the Lords themselves, the archaelogists also found the tombs of priests and priestesses and important chiefs, who were buried with the same items as suggested in the many scenes painted on pottery and walls. So it has been relatively easy for the archaelogists to understand the role of each person, why they were buried with certain items etc. Fascinating.

Then as an extra bonus, I got to meet one of the archaelogists who was responsible for painstakinly drawing and documenting the findings in a new tomb which they had just started excavating in August. He had 24 huge pieces of paper, each representing another level of digging down, and each showing the exact measurements, depth and orientation of every item discovered. As he flicked through the drawings, I could see exactly how the discovery had progressed - the first time they saw the hand of the skeleton (of who, they don´t yet know exactly) lying amongst his many gold treasures, then dated 2 weeks later, the next drawing showing more of the skeleton being uncovered.. until finally the whole of his tomb was revealed. It was like fast-forwarding through the whole excavation, and I could imagine the excitement and anticipation with each level that they had so carefully and slowly dug down.

Just when I thought I had seen it all, I was invited to a small building near to the tomb where an old archaelogist was cataloguing and cleaning items that had been out of the ground only a few weeks, after nearly 2000 years of being buried!! Right in front of me on a rickety old table, were the huge gold and copper masks which formed part of the necklaces worn by the Lords of Sipan, the strange nose shields that they used to hide the fact from their people they had a human mouth and teeth just like everybody else (they were not feline gods at all, imagine!). They were cracked and battered and oxidised heavily, but after seeing the restored items from the other tomb in the museum yesterday, it was easy to picture them in their former glory. There was a small but amazingly intricate model of the Lord in solid copper, wearing all of his jewellery, his armour, his staff... and all of those items depicted on the model were found for real in the tomb as well. I held the model in my hand! How many other people have had the chance to do that! And who held it last before it was sealed up along with the body!

Ok, things really couldn´t get any better. Until I was taken next door to see the skeleton that they have just excavated only a few weeks ago, after painstakingly removing all of the artefacts he was buried with. There, lying uncovered on the floor in a low wooden box, right in front of me with no glass or anything between us, was the remains of an unknown man, most probably another Lord of Sipan, his skull intact, most of his bones still intact, the pieces of gold and silver that were placed in his mouth still there. Completely untouched, he is exactly as he was when they opened the tomb up so recently. Ohmygod I feel so privileged! (and a bit creeped out!)

So that was a completely unexpected but fantastic experience that I will never forget. I wanna be an archaelogist! I will load the few pictures that I have soon, I got a couple of the skeleton and of the artefacts, but it felt disrespectful to stand there clicking away for ages so I tried to be quick and discreet. None of the museum, which is a real shame but kind of makes it even more special. One of me actually holding the model icon of the Lord, which they think was intended to be his guide into the afterlife. I hope me holding it for a second didn´t disrupt his journey, as I don´t want any curses on me!

Interestingly I asked the archaelogist whether he ever felt any presence or energy with handling all of these old items, particularly with them being from tombs. He said he didn´t see ghosts (which I was disappointed about) but said that often if he was struggling to clean or restore a piece because he couldn´t clearly picture how it should be, he would focus on it in his mind and could often "feel" an image of how it looked.. and he seemed to believe this was coming beyond the grave, so to speak. Whoa.

Chachopoyas - home of the People of the Clouds

angelas_away — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 13:37:00 GMT

We arrived in Chachapoyas quite late following the broken down bus incident from Pedro Ruiz, but not late enough that the tour salesman at the hostel didn`t jump at the chance to sell us a "special" tour the next day to some of the many archaelogical sites nearby. It was quite good value at 50 soles (less than a tenner) so we went for it. Only downside was the 5:30am start!!

There were about 8 of us on the tour, including 4 Austrians, a guy from the UK and two more Americans. We drove for a couple of hours, most of which I don`t remember as I was sleeping. After breakfast at a random restaurant somewhere, our first stop was a district called Luya. The minibus took us to the top of a mountain where our guide pointed out, in the distance, some sarcophogi (spelling?!) and mausoleums. Little did we know we would be checking them out at close quarters... After maybe an hour or so descent and then some strenuous climbing/scrambling, we found ourselves right next to the remains of some of the mausoleums. Here the Chachapoyans, who lived 1000-2000 years ago in this area, buried their dead halfway up the mountain side, which is unique across the whole of Peru to this particular civilisation. We found human bones still placed inside the remains of the mauseleums, which was quite eery, and etchings in the walls which indicated the importance of the people buried there. The sarcophogi were too difficult to climb to, which made you wonder how the Chachapoyans got the mummified bodies there in the first place.. and why. The guide told us that the locations for the mausoleums and sarcophogi were chosen as sacred places for whatever reason, and also for security so they would be difficult to reach in future. The mountainside faced East, so the faces on the sarcophogi faced the rising sun, maybe for easier transport of the soul to the `other side`.

We had all forgotten that, having climbed down the mountain, we would then have to climb back up. We were at maybe 2000m and the altitude made it hard to breathe as it is, let alone after so much steep climbing. I had to stop almost every few steps as I reached the top as it felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I`d better get fit before attempting Machu Picchu next month, which is 3 days of hardcore hiking!

We stopped for lunch, then went on to visit a couple more sites in afternoon which meant more walking up and down steep mountain sides. The views are breath-taking, let alone the altitude. The photos just don´t show how amazing it is to see those mountains, rising out of the clouds and going on forever in the distance. At some points during the climb back up the mountain, I was walking alone and couldn´t see or hear the people in front or behind me. There was nothing but mountains all around me, I could hear nothing except my own breathing and faintly, far-away waterfalls crashing down into the rivers that ran wayyyy down below. No sign of houses, roads or any other humans anywhere. It was a mind-blowing experience, reminding me just how powerful and beautiful Mother Earth is.

The next day, we set off at 7am for the fortress ruins of Kuelap. This was a good 3 hour drive, and the three of us were tired and grumpy. The English-speaking guide who sold us the tour didn´t bother coming along, the rest of the tour group were annoying, especially the couple sitting in front of us who insisted on kissing and gazing into each others eyes the whole way. Only the terror of the drive up the mountains cut through the grumpiness. Sometimes I just daren`t look, at others I was morbidly fascinated by how close we were to the edge of a sheer drop. The driver was slow and careful, but even so it was pretty scary!

We were all very glad to get off the bus and do the 2km walk to the ruins. The fortress was built by the Chachapoyans maybe 1000 years ago, and the site is spectactular being on top of one of the highest mountains, with views for miles and miles in every direction. The site was still being excavated, having been rediscovered quite recently, and only 20% has been properly investigated. As the Chachapoyan civilisation was unique to this area of Peru, and as unfortunately many of the sites in the area had already been raided by robbers, there is a lot of mystery about the lives and culture of these people and how they lived. They were attacked by the Incas 500 years ago and managed to hold out for years and years, until they were finally conquered and the Incas moved in. A few years later, the Spaniards arrived and conquered the Incas, and they too moved in for a while. At some point the Spaniards abandoned the site and burnt everything before they left. It was untouched for 150 years until it was rediscovered by locals who have slowly started to clear the area again. There you go, a bit of history just to show I was listening :)

It took a couple of hours to walk around the site. There was a huge outer wall that circled the top of the mountain with an entrance to the north, the south and then a smaller emergency entrance. Inside the walls were lots of circular houses built from mixtures of rock, mud and sticks. The Chachapoyans were the only ones to build round houses, and inside you could still see the deep wells where they stored food, and the rocks they used for grinding grains. Some of the houses were decorated with patterns and symbols which meant they were used for important people such as shamans and chiefs. There was also a strange structure called a tintulo (if I remember correctly) which was still being excavated, but they think it was ceremonial and possibly used for sacrifices. Within the massive stone walls, some of the stones were decorated with carvings of animals and faces, again nobody knows what they mean.

It was a fascinating tour, seeing how these people lived, having seen how they buried their dead the day before. Tomorrow I`m going to Leimebamba where there is a museum which holds about 200 Chachapoyan mummies and artifacts.

From the jungle to the Andes

angelas_away — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 12:18:00 GMT

It seems like a lot has happened since my last entry in Yurimaguas, which was only 5 days ago, so here goes...

So me and the four Americans set off for Tarapoto that afternoon in two cars. The road between Yurimaguas and Tarapoto is closed until 6pm for "repairs" so we had to wait until later in the day to travel. It was soon apparent that these were more than just repairs... the road in some places was pretty scary as it climbed up and down mountains, we were glad that it was soon dark so we couldn´t see how high up we were! The road was terrible in some places, nothing more than a dirt track and it took us a good 3 hours to get to Tarapoto. By the time we`d found a hostel it was pretty late, so we went straight for food at a pretty good Italian restaurant nearby. Its a shame I didn`t get to see much of Tarapoto as it looks like an interesting place - lots of bars and shops and nightclubs. It has a very different feel to Iquitos, much more edgy and we all had the feeling that you`d have to be careful around here at night.

The two girls, Lynsey and Gretchen, had a tight time schedule and so were keen to get moving ASAP. They booked a car for 7am the next morning to go to Moyobamba, and I decided to go with them. This time we had a much better (safer) driver and the trip was much more pleasant. The scenery was noticeably different to Tarapoto, with mountains now visible in the distance. An hour or two later we arrived in Moyobamba, which was a nice laid back place with the usual dusty roads, small shops selling random stuff, lots of street markets, but with a stunning backdrop of mountains. We checked into a hostel that Lynsey had stayed in previously, which had a big courtyard garden overlooked by all of the rooms. A green macaw lived in the garden, he was famous for saying "Hola" to visitors but for now he was quiet.

After some food, we decided to go to the orchid farm which Moyobamba is well known for. The climate is here is really nice, quite warm but not hot and with a kind of mist that hangs around and makes everything feel fresh and cool. We`re at the start of the ´cloud forest` area here as we are getting closer to the Andes. The orchids were amazing, I took lots of pictures. Afterwards we walked a couple of km to the nearby thermal baths and spent a couple of hours lazing in very hot waters which were reputed to be healing. It certainly seemed to help heal the persistently itchy insect bites that Gretchen and I both have. Later we went back to the hostel and found Arturo, the parrot, in a very talkative mood. Lynsey and I went to tempt him with some salted peanuts, and when we laughed at his funny antics, he suddenly laughed back at us. This made us laugh even more, and he did the same. Before long we were both in fits of giggles and Arturo kept copying us, doing full-on belly laughs and hysterical girly giggles perfectly. It was a really funny end to the day, though I couldn`t help feeling sorry for the poor bird who couldn`t fly as his wings were clipped. He was stuck in his tree which he had to climb using his beak and claws, and had nobody to talk to for most of the time.

Next day we caught a 10am bus to Pedro Ruiz, 3.5 hours away, which is a small dusty town at the crossroads of the road from Moyobamba which continues to Chiclayo on the coast, and the road that runs south through the highlands to Chachapoyas - our next destination. There was nothing to do here at all, and we had to wait until 6pm for the next bus out. We walked slowly, ate slowly, and used a similarly slow internet to pass the time. Finally the bus arrived and we were on our way. It should`ve been a couple of hours, but disaster struck on the mountain roads when the bus in front of hours got grounded on the terrible road surface and had to be pulled out by cranes. Luckily it happened right where the cranes and workmen were already stationed, otherwise god knows how long we`d have been there. As it was it took 2 hours to pull the bus out and smooth the road enough that the other traffic could get through. Again we were glad of the dark which meant we couldn´t see just how sheer those drops were..