Jessie on the road

Heading West, Sipping Wine and Riding Bikes

jesjesco — Fri, 7 Jun 2013 12:59:00 GMT

After a quick and out of the way (17 hours out of the way - but very much worth it!) detour north to visit the Iguazu Waterfalls, I headed west to the infamous wine country of Mendoza, Argentina. My visit started with a day of rain (the only one I had in seven weeks of travel in Argentina – and the same rain that caused major flooding in Buenos Aires), but quickly turned to blue skies and beautiful days. Anyway, it was a perfect excuse to start my visit indoors with an incredibly luxurious pedicure (and bottle of wine, of course – our own version of a wine tour!). I met back up with a friend I knew from Buenos Aires. Although we’d only known each other a short time, it was great to arrive and see a familiar face.

As I heard from many others, I was not incredibly impressed by the city of Mendoza itself – especially coming from Buenos Aires. But we quickly learned that, much like its larger city-neighbor to the east, Mendoza’s nightlife can still suck you out until all hours of the night. And thus several of our potential wine-tasting days were lost to recoveries from the night before and we quickly decided that a mountain detox getaway was needed – but not before one good solid day of wine tasting like the guidebooks say to do! And it was a productive day of wine tasting at that - we made it to all of one winery. To our credit, it was a great winery. Incredibly nice staff, good tour, and a generous tasting that kept us from wanting to get back on our bikes and leave. So, we called the bike company to come and pick up the bikes and happily stayed another few hours … which somehow turned into drinking until sunrise (as often happens in Argentina) … and the next day we clumsily rolled out of bed and headed straight for the mountains and a weekend detox full of beautiful scenery, fresh air, and activities that involved more than just drinking wine.

Together with the friend I knew from Buenos Aires, and another we met on the never-ending wine tour, we spent the weekend in Uspallata, a mountain town two hours from Mendoza and about an hour from the Chilean border. After a bus ride through some of the most stunning scenery that I have ever seen (when I managed to stay awake to see it), we spent two glorious nights sleeping soundly in a quiet, comfortable hostel – and two glorious days exploring the scenery. We hiked at the foot of Aconcagua, the highest peak in the Americas, went mountain biking, and enjoyed one of the best, and cheapest, asados that I had during my two months in Argentina. It was the perfect complement to a crazy week in Mendoza, and left me refreshed and ready to conquer new adventures.

*It should be noted here, for anyone who doesn’t know me well enough, that I am very much not a bike rider and thus my biking in Mendoza and Uspallata was quite an accomplishment!

Buenos Aires

jesjesco — Fri, 7 Jun 2013 12:55:00 GMT

Well, I feel like I should write something about my eleven days in Buenos Aires. But where to start? I loved the city and had a wonderful time. On top of that, I had perfect weather – sunny blue skies every day, warm but not hot. I spent time with an old high school friend living in the city who introduced me to some great local art shows, had many amazing meals, and met some very cool people - including a great traveling companion who I would meet back up with later in my trip.

I stayed in Palermo, a neighborhood rich in stylish bars and delicious restaurants. So I suppose I should start with food – because really, don’t I always? From juicy steaks to morcilla (blood sausage) and mollejas (‘sweetbreads’ – glands), provoletas (grilled provolone cheese) and papas fritas (french fries) to choripan (grilled sausage sandwiches) on the corner, and empanadas, literally, every day. And I’m leaving the city still hungry for more! All topped off with delicious, and cheap, wine. Much like warm dry weather, good cheap wine was something that I very much missed in Peru and Bolivia. One of my favorite meals sort of happened by accident – the best kind. I went with two friends to a pop-up art show in La Boca, a neighborhood that is known to be dangerous at night and usually accessed (by foreigners) only by taxi in and out. The show turned out to be a bit of a bust, but it so happened that my friend spotted a restaurant down the street that was supposed to be great, El Obrero. Sure enough, it was packed. We sat on the curb and drank a beer while waiting for a table, and then proceeded to have the most amazing meal of steak, ravioli, and all the fixins – followed by melt-in-your-mouth panqueques con dulce de leche.

My nights were so filled with good food and wine that I honestly did a lot of nothing during many of my days in Buenos Aires. The beautiful weather, plentiful parks for napping, and numerous cafes for relaxing or catching up on email made doing a lot of nothing quite easy. But I also fit in a few of the touristy things too. I visited the MALBA (Latin American Art Museum) and Evita Museum, went on a great (and free) walking tour of downtown, shopped the Sunday antique market in San Telmo, and strolled through the infamous Recoletta Cemetery.

Before my visit I wrote off Buenos Aires as just another big city, preferring to spend more time in small towns. But after just under two weeks there, I fell in love with the city just like everyone said that I would. My heart wanted to stay, but my wallet would not allow it – so now I’m off to explore what else this great country has to offer.

Photos: Argentina

jesjesco — Fri, 7 Jun 2013 12:12:00 GMT

The trip into Bolivia

jesjesco — Tue, 2 Apr 2013 13:19:00 GMT

We purchased the last two seats on the last tourist bus of the day into Bolivia – and at a 10 soles discount on the price just by asking (because clearly you should never accept the first price). I’d heard about many difficulties at the border, particularly for Americans – and the fact that we were the only nationality called out specifically by the bus driver, twice, to make sure we had our paperwork in order for the required visa, didn’t help. But we were pleasantly surprised to find it quite easy! Taking the tourist bus helped – they give you very specific instructions and wait (they really do wait) for all passengers to successfully cross over. The Bolivian officials even joked with us as we shelled over $135 (an exorbitant amount of money in Bolivia) for visa fees. And an hour later we were in the lakeside town of Copacabana, Bolivia – and promptly bought a few beers to celebrate making it through this long day.

Forgetting the time change, we missed the morning boat to Isla del Sol – but, as often happens while traveling, it was a worthwhile mistake – allowing us to explore what turned out to be a fairly charming little city. After lunch we made the afternoon boat, a cramped 3 hour ride that got us there just in time to hike from the north to the south side of the island, a 4 hour trek, before dark. And what an amazing hike it was – with absolutely breathtaking views. There were few other people on the island, and most did the trek in the morning, so we only shared the trail with a few sheep herders. And arrived just in time to enjoy a bottle of wine and watch one of the most amazing sunsets that I have ever seen.

Completely impressed with what I had seen of Bolivia so far, we caught a bus down to La Paz the next day. I went back and forth from being absolutely terrified of the steep drop-offs, to mesmerized by the beautiful views. And this only continued as we entered La Paz. Despite it’s dangerous and rundown reputation (which I am not denying to be true), I was entirely surprised by how much I liked La Paz! The city sits inside steep cliffs, filled with beautiful architecture and a lot of character. I only stayed one night, but look forward to returning later in my trip as I make my way back up north to Peru.

The next day I flew to Santa Cruz, a city on the eastern end of the country, to meet up with Mariana – a good friend from DC who grew up there. She was in town for just a week on vacation, and kindly extended an offer for me to stay with her family. The opportunity to see a good friend, and experience a city with locals, was too good to pass up. I was immediately struck by the differences between eastern and western Bolivia. Unlike La Paz, Santa Cruz is at a much lower altitude, flat, and filled with palm trees. Except for a few immigrants form the west, you don’t see any indigenous women in the long braids and pleated skirts that are common in Peru and La Paz – and the local speak Spanish like Argentinians, setting me back significantly in my comprehension skills.

In Santa Cruz I had the opportunity to meet Mariana’s wonderful family, explore the city, and experience the best of Santa Cruz clubs – followed by a late night burger of chicken hearts – something I was very much looking forward to after my discovery of anticuchos in Peru! I visited Nelore, a farm owned by good family friends, and spent a couple days in the beautiful mountain town of Samiapata, a few hours from the city. I would have more to say about Samiapata, but alas I was there during two of only about 7 days a year that it rains, spoiling many of the best sights and activities there. And most of all, I ate incredibly well!

My whirlwind week was a great introduction to Bolivia. I decided to immediately fly to Buenos Aires, to catch the tail end of warm summer weather and avoid the rest of the rainy season farther north, but very much look forward to returning to Bolivia later on in my trip.

Photos: Bolivia

jesjesco — Tue, 2 Apr 2013 13:14:00 GMT

One month in - Lake Titicaca, Peru

jesjesco — Tue, 2 Apr 2013 13:05:00 GMT

Exactly one month ago today, I left a cold and gray DC and arrived in an only slightly warmer Arequipa, Peru, amidst pouring rain and floods. I felt nervous and unsure of the move I had just made, but ready to move forward. The rains quickly turning into beautiful blue morning skies and warmer temperatures, I unpacked my bag and settled into my bedroom in the Rodriguez house, and made friends at the Spanish language school.

And now I’m on a bus out of Arequipa and on my way to Puno, the first stop I’ll make during at least a month or two of traveling before I settle down again somewhere new. The bus windows are full of steam from the intermittent rain as we climb higher and higher in elevation, and an extremely violent 80’s movie poorly dubbed in Spanish is blaring on the TV in front of me.

On the way we passed through Juliaca – a town just as desolate as the guide books warned. Juliaca is only about an hour away from Puno, five hours from Arequipa, and the drive up to that point had been only slightly interesting. As we pulled into the city the skies quickly turned gray and opened up with the fury that often happens on summer afternoons in southern Peru. But interestingly, by the time we pulled into the bus station (or, more accurately, abandoned street corner) in Juliaca, it was hailing like crazy. So much so that there were inches of ice on the ground all over the city. It was quite a scene.

Puno sits on a hill descending into Lake Titicaca. Although I’d heard many warnings that the city itself is not much to see, I found it to be a very pretty drive in. And the lake sparkled a majestic blue just like all of the pictures. It was quite a magical feeling, at first. But at over 12,000 feet, that magical feeling soon turned into a dizzying exhaustion that only extreme altitude can induce. That night I met up with a friend that I knew from the language school in Arequipa, and had an amazing meal at a fusion restaurant that served an wonderful trout (the regional specialty) ravioli, followed by a great show of traditional dancers (and a piece of very un-traditional, but delicious, cheesecake).

We headed out to the islands very early the next day, amid gray skies and a light rain. I read a great deal about the bad effects of the prolific tours companies in Puno on the indigenous communities of the islands, so we skipped the companies and just bought boat tickets for transport. Our first stop was Naccos, the ‘floating islands.’ These islands are made of straw, and feel just like you would imagine an island made of straw feels like when you step onto it. The communities living on these islands thought up the concept as an escape from the oppression of the Inca. The islands require constant upkeep to replace pieces that rot every couple of weeks.

After Naccos we sailed another 3 hours to Amantani. From what I read, the families on Amantani learned from the bad experiences of other islands and initiated a fair system for tourism. Families on the island offer homestays to tourists on a strict rotating basis so that all benefit equally. The island was beyond beautiful. The skies had cleared by the time we arrived, turning a deep blue with puffy white clouds that hung above the lush greed island dotted by red-roofed houses and surrounded by the deep blue lake.

The house we stayed in was quite comfortable (albeit freezing at night!). We ate dinner in the kitchen together with the family. The cramped kitchen (separate from the rest of the house), warmed by the fire used to cook and filled with people, offered a wonderful escape from the cold. Although their first language is Quechua, the family spoke much better Spanish than I do and joked with us about other tourists they had hosted. It was an amazing opportunity to get to know and learn from locals living in a very different and distinct culture.

In the morning, in order to make it back to the mainland in time to catch a bus to Bolivia that afternoon, we opted to head back to Puno right away. We heard from someone else that it was quite easy. Little did we know the day we had in store. After a 6 am wake-up call, by 7am we were hiking across the island as, it turned out, the boats for Puno actually left from the opposite side. It was pouring rain, cold, and the steep uphill at that altitude made it a very tough trek. After arriving on the boat, thankful that we made it in time, we proceeded to wait another hour and a half in the boat before it departed (don’t ask why…). Unlike our boat ride the previous day, this was definitely not the tourist boat. The water was choppy from the rain, and when the hour-long journey was finally complete we then had a cramped hour-long convi (shared mini-van / read: old VW bus) ride through beautiful green rolling hills. Once finally back in Puno, we began a mad dash to catch our next bus and cross the border into Bolivia.

Papas y Maize

jesjesco — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 05:07:00 GMT

My classes at the school last from 9am to 1pm and take place in the courtyard behind the school. Every day around 11:30, someone close by begins cooking lunch. The wonderful smell of roasting garlic wafts through my entire being and I can hardly think about past tense verb conjugation a moment longer … a hunger starts building that I can hardly contain by the time I find the perfect restaurant to enjoy my lunch two hours later.

As an American, I have found some peculiarities about Peruvian cuisine. The double carb norm being chief among them. Every meal is served with both potatoes and rice, a huge no-no for western palates. And verduras, vegetables, rarely consist of more than one piece of lettuce, one slice of tomato, and one slice of onion. But beyond these differences lie some amazing tastes to explore! This post is just meant to cover some of the highlights, and I will try to intersperse food into my other posts as well. Because really, food is one of the highlights of my travel. But given the abundance of delicious food, and the extent to which I love food, I thought it deserved at least one post of its own.

The variety of food in Arequipa is like no other part of Peru. Local picanterias offer traditional music, a relaxed atmosphere, lots of flies, and a surprisingly diverse selection of dishes. Some of my favorites – riccotto relleno (hot pepper stuffed with meat and topped with cheese) of course, chicharones (fried pork - though I like the Cusquenan variety a bit more than the drier Arequipenan version), and surprisingly – salsa de secca (the face of a cow, served as a salad with onions and some fava beans)! And you wash in all down with chicha, a popular fermented corn drink.

And then there is adobo. Arequipenans typically eat adobo for breakfast on Sundays, though I found a great restaurant that serves this delicious stew every day (El Super Adobo Arequipeno, just below the Plaza de Yanahuar) which works great for travelers who may not have a free Sunday while in town. I’m not usually a fan of thick stews, but this one blew me away. It is made with chicha, of course, though you don’t really notice that in the taste as you scoop spoonfulls of the broth in bread (never with a spoon). And right smack in the middle of the bowl, buried in sautéed onions, is a whole pork chop. Always with a big slice of fat for extra flavor. You have to eat a good amount of the broth first in order to keep from spilling it over the side when you cut the pork (and it would certainly be a sin to waste that broth). Best of all, the adobo is followed by a tea made from fresh anise – delicious and wonderfully soothing for your incredibly-too-full stomach.

Of course, cebiche is a well-known delicacy in Peru. The cebiche here is quite different than what I knew from the States, and SO MUCH BETTER! My last full day in Arequipa was a Friday. Following some horribly rainy days earlier in the week, this day was fabulous, blue skies so clear that you could finally again make out the Misti and Chichani volcanoes and the other mountains surrounding the city. It was warm and I was sweating in a t-shirt and jeans. Needless to say I was very happy – and a perfect day for a final meal of cebiche. I went with one of my teachers to his favorite spot. This teacher had been very excited when, a couple weeks earlier, he discovered my passion for trying new foods and quickly moved our conversation classes from the school to various restaurants around the city. It is thanks to him that I tied as many new foods as I did! Anyway, the cebiche on this last day was fabulous! It definitely beat the dish I had previously, when I tried picking out my own cebicheria. It was simple – large chunks of fish (though I cannot remember the type) with just a light lemon sauce and onion. It is served with choclo, boiled corn, which makes a refreshing complement to the fish. And of course, the toasted corn on the table that is often served at bars. As we cleared the plate, my teacher dumped the toasted corn into the leftover sauce – fabulous.

Finally, I must end this post on food with my favorite food of all – anticuchos! I was quite unsure about trying beef heart. I never had before, and didn’t think I needed to. But really, what did I have to lose. We went to a cafeteria next to a family pool complex – not a place I would peg for good authentic food, but apparently their anticuchos are some of the best. They are grilled and served in big chunks on a skewer with choclo on the side. A somewhat tough but very tender meat, with a wonderful flavor. I was with two other foreigners - one declined to try the anticuchos at all. The other thought they were just so-so and was satisfied with just a few bites. So, more for me! I was happy.

Towering Volcanoes and Bottomless Canyons

jesjesco — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 05:00:00 GMT

Arequipa is a city at the heart of some of the world’s most awesome natural wonders. Every morning I wake up to a perfect view of el Misti, one of the volcanoes towering over the city. And just last Friday afternoon, while resting in bed during a rainstorm, I have no doubt that I felt an earthquake tremble through. It is a land full of constant reminders of the powerful natural world, and with a history rich in admiration for the splendors, and dangers, that this world brings.

Last weekend I trekked through the Colca Canyon, (arguably) the deepest canyon in the world. A five hour drive from Arequipa, the canyon sits in stark contrast to the snow-covered volcanoes visible from the city. Just one look into the canyon from above was enough to feel the enormity of this natural beauty - but after four hours of steep downhill trekking to reach the bottom, I had a completely different appreciation! After a lunch of quinoa soup and grilled alpaca meat, our group decided to forgo the afternoon of rest that we had planned and instead hike another four hours to the oasis that we would otherwise reach the next day. Although our bodies were tired (and we had been up since 3am when we left Arequipa), our hearts longed for the full day of rest that we would have on day 2 if we made it to the oasis a day early. Despite more steep up and down-hill trekking, we all agreed that the decision was a good one as we strolled through timeless and hauntingly beautiful canyon towns – smiling at the few inhabitants who had not yet left their homes for work in the nearby mines. Our smiles faded with the day as we were left with a dangerous downhill trek in the pitch dark night, wondering whether we had made a very bad decision. But we made it, all of us, with no injuries – and heaved a great sigh of relief as we unloaded our bags in the camp and celebrated with several bottles of pisco and coke!

The view the next day was beyond words - waking up inside a towering canyon to blue skies and a refreshing pool, with the knowledge that we had an entire day to rest our weary bodies, was entirely worth it. So much so that we didn’t even think of the 4am, 4-hour uphill trek that we had ahead of us the next day …

A week back in Arequipa, muscles fully recovered, I experienced another perspective on the terrain that I had just trekked through when I visited the museum that houses the famed mummy Juanita. Unfortunately we came during the 4 months of the year when Juanita is hidden away for preservation, but had an incredibly interesting experience nonetheless. Quite unlike the other memorable mummy museum experience that I have had in Latin America (in Guanajuato, Mexico), it was surprisingly non-ghoulish and quite informative. Through a private one-hour tour we learned of the reverence that the Incas had for the volcanoes, believing in a power so great that the most beautiful and pure few among them had to be sacrificed in order to keep peace with the Gods. Children were selected from a very young age and raised with the sole purpose, and honor, of being sacrificed to these Gods. And it is the incredibly well-preserved body of one of these children, Juanita, which has allowed people in modern times to better understand this divine process.

Though the practice of human sacrifice is disturbing to us now, clearly dating back to a very different time, I felt a connection the people of this land hundreds and thousands of years before, and shared in the admiration and awe that this beautiful and powerful land inspires.

The beginning ...

jesjesco — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 04:54:00 GMT

So I suppose I should start this blog with some background on why I’m here. After 7 years of working in the DC NGO world, I decided that I needed an escape - to remind myself that there really is a world beyond the beltway. I needed a change, I needed new challenges, and I needed to take life a bit less seriously for a while. It was a leap that took me a long time to take, but I have not regretted the decision for a moment since.

Now I find myself in Arequipa, a colonial city in southern Peru. White-washed stone buildings line the narrow streets, indigenous women wearing long braids and pleated skirts pass men in business suits and dodge through noisy traffic, roosters crow next to scantily dressed women selling claro and moviestar cell phone packages, and most importantly – you can buy queso helado topped with cinnamon on almost any corner.

My first goal is to improve my Spanish. I am taking 20 hours of classes a week at a local Spanish school started by an older Peruvian woman who used to teach history at the local university. I live with a family – a woman and her two children. Patricia (coincidentally my own mother’s name as well), also teaches at the school. Her husband left for Spain a year ago and her parents have passed on, so she is raising two children all by herself. Quite a remarkable feat. Her 8 year-old son has Asperger’s – a difficult syndrome for a parent to handle in the U.S., let alone in Peru. He is a delightful kid, obsessed with technology and completely convinced that the US has the best technology (and lego ninjas – or ‘ninjagos’) and is therefore the best country in the world. The 17 year-old daughter is incredibly mature for her age, working and studying hard and helping her mom take care of the house.

The family is great about speaking slowly and helping me practice my Spanish, and tries not to laugh too much at the ridiculous things that come out of my mouth when I try to speak in Spanish. And the city is wonderful for exploring. But it is the rainy season and by the time my non-morning-person self gets going I’ve usually missed the blue skies and sun, resigned to clouds and rain that detract from the many amazing vistas and overlooks. But it is a wonderful city to explore nonetheless. And a perfect place to start my travels.

Photos: Peru

jesjesco — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 04:37:00 GMT