Date of Travel

back to buenos aires –or- the model, the grip and the indie rock star

2006-04-29T13:02:00.000-07:00

my final week in south america ended up being a bit of a business trip to buenos aires. i was going for a friend to learn about the process of investing in real estate there and to look at a few properties in order to get an idea about what was available for how much. my dear friend from new york, therese, decided she needed a holiday so i asked her if she wanted to join me. and natalie thought she would also like to come along as a nice ending to round out her travels in peru.

three wild women + argentinian red wine + late buenos aires nightlife = a business trip with an exhausting and very fun side agenda.

buenos aires, with its enticing blend of european style and latin american flavour, had become my latest favourite destination and i was sure that both therese and natalie would love it too. conveniently, our flights arrived at the same time early in the morning so we were able to meet up in the passport line. therese and i stayed at home buenos aires for the first three nights, a groovy bed and breakfast in palermo hollywood (palermo is the up-and-coming hip neighbourhood in buenos aires and is divided up into nine subneighbourhoods with the word 'palermo' in them) which is situated on the other side of the tracks from palermo viejo. the light-filled space was modern with polished cement floors, blonde wood accents and white furniture, and the garden at the back had a small pool and outdoor fireplace. the room was comfortable and the breakfasts were divine (shots of fruit juice, whipped vanilla yogurt with a layer of scented honey at the bottom of the glass, buttery and slightly sweet medialunas, really good cafe con leche), but the front desk attitude could use a bit of an adjustment.

after trudging all over palermo, natalie found a tiny bedroom in a friendly guesthouse in the heart of palermo viejo. while she was doing that, therese and i descended to the spa and indulged in massages - truly the perfect thing to do after flying all night. to our delight, within two and a half hours of being off the plane, we were being rubbed down by dark haired argentinian masseurs with calming energy and strong hands. therese, however, got the cute one.

my primary task on this trip was to meet a couple of contacts who helped out foreign investors with the complicated business of buying real estate in argentina and see a range of properties in the areas i was most interested in. because there a quite a few steps and people involved along the way and the final transaction is done entirely in cash, it definitely is advisable to align yourself with someone who speaks fluent spanish and understands the system. trusting them is also advised.

i first met a young couple who do just this and liked them immediately. he was english, she chilean. they were nice, helpful and clear about each step of the process. they lined up an assortment of places for me to see and based the choices on what feedback i gave them as we progressed.

the second guy i met was the antithesis of the couple - slimy, false and contradictory in all he said. everything about him indicated a house of cards - he would be gone without a trace at the first hint of trouble. he couldn't even give me a straight answer on how he got investors' money into the country legally, and when in a place where the economy has been famously unstable, that is rather a key point to comprehend. i dragged therese and natalie to this meeting and we had a great time making fun of this guy's contradictions and sales story over coffee afterward.

the properties i looked at ranged from small, dark and disgusting, needing virtually an entire renovation, to a perfectly remodeled, modern three bedroom apartment with a huge electronic skylight and fantastic terrace. many were a decent size but still in need of much repair and it is quite difficult to find places with lots of natural light - something i think is very important. i also came to the absolute conclusion that the place to buy was in palermo viejo as that is the best neighbourhood for many reasons and therefore the easiest to rent out to foreign travelers. it is hip, cool, full of excellent restaurants, bars and shops, close to major transportation and downtown, and full of funloving porteños. it is the soho and east village of buenos aires and consequently is recognised on the international travel scene as a great place to visit.

so yes, i was a good little househunter but of course i couldn't pass up the lively social scene. we would start the day with a perfect cafe con leche under the orange umbrellas at mark's cafe, get on the subte (the subway) or in a taxi for a bit of culture, intersperse the sightseeing with shopping at whatever clothing boutique caught our attention, and try not to start drinking until at least after midday. this last directive was met with some success, mostly because we didn't get to coffee until about 11:30 am.

upon therese the design maven's request, we visited the design complex in recoleta which showcased everything from leather coasters to sculptured bathroom sinks. we trawled the length of calle florida - a pedestrian only street jammed with shops - for the perfect black leather weekend bag. we stuffed our faces with delicious empanadas and cold quilmes beer in san telmo and on the edge of palermo. i loved how the empanadas were coded by shape: scored edge meant an onion filling; pinched dough edge equalled basil and cheese filling, etc. at one place, a key was drawn to aid the diner in choosing.

a series of indulgent meals were enjoyed, from superb vietnamese at green bamboo, to beautiful smoked fish and caviar at ridiculously low prices at olsen (their absolut mandarin and smoked tea martini became my new favourite cocktail), to perfect argentinian dishes at the unfortunately fluorescently lit lomo. and of course we did our best to get through as many bottles of malbec and torrontes wine as possible.

bar unico in palermo hollywood quickly became one of our favourite lunching and drinking spots. situated on a street corner, this place always seemed to be packed with eye-catching people. it was here that therese made friends with emilio, a darling young thing who looked like he fronted an indie rock band. despite a bit of a language barrier, she managed to get all of us invited to a nightclub the following night, emilio promising to bring his friends - presumably for natalie's and my entertainment.

and so it was that we were picked up the following night and taken - via a stop to buy chiclets - to a heineken-themed club by the airport imaginatively called jet. and there we met the model and the grip. contrary to popular opinion, natalie and i found the quiet, dark grip interesting and sexy, while the model overflowed with himself and his blondness.

during the course of the night, i managed to lose a shoe on the dance floor for about five minutes, interesting only because i wasn't actually dancing or even on the dance floor when it happened. we managed to escape fairly early - at 5:30am - before we ended up in compromising grips with indie rock stars, models and er, grips. thankfully our room at 1555 malabia house, the second place we stayed, was tranquil and cocooning so we could sleep off all the heineken late into the morning before starting all over again.

by the end of the week, i was exhausted but felt that this time in argentina was a perfect way to end my time in south america, and as a bonus, i had gained a valuable understanding of real estate in buenos aires. i am looking forward to my next trip when i will use that knowledge and figure out a way to live in beautiful buenos aires for a while.

farewell cusco

2006-04-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

hard to believe that five months is over already! really frightening how time flies by but what can you do beside live it to the fullest whenever possible?

i packed up all my stuff, thinking i was making heaps of room by leaving a few items of clothing behind, however the bags were as heavy or heavier as when i arrived. having said that, i only brought two backpacks with me and i think that was pretty good for the amount of time i was here. natalie had come with me to cusco so shipped her off to machu picchu while i finished up the cleaning of the house (the caretaker had done most of that so it wasn't much of a drama). more importantly, i realised that i hadn't taken a lot of the photos that i wanted to of the colonial architecture, so on friday morning i got up at 6am to a thankfully clear and sunny day and walked the streets one last time. as i said a goodbye to my favourite corners and views, i somehow managed to take 90 photographs. hopefully there will be a couple of decent shots among all that and not everything will be relegated to the shoebox.

friday night was my 'despartida' or going away do which my friends leslie and jane had kindly organised. held at cicciolina, the lovely restaurant owned by australian tammy, we had wine and tapas and generally carried on. i very much didn't want to be hungover for a long day of travel the next day so tried unsuccessfully to keep things to a manageable level. another expat party was going on in the same bar so things became quite lively and i was glad to have a last opportunity to see some people i had only met once at the beginnning of my stay.

staggering out of bed the next day, i basically just had to get ready for clark and jacqui's arrival (we were crossing over by about three hours) and make sure natalie and i did not miss the plane to lima. really lovely to see them again even if for a quick lunch and beer before getting on the plane.

as we took off, i watched the squat, red earth buildings of cusco fall away beneath me and the stark pointed mountains rise up to meet the plane and felt a twinge of sadness of leaving that crazy, historical city. i had experienced a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to live there and use it as a base while i explored peru, and i made some lovely new friends that i sincerely hope to keep in touch with. however, there are elements of cusco that i am happy to leave behind - the pollution, constantly being treated like a tourist because i'm a gringa, not being able to eat salad at every establishment. regardless, i am grateful for this time and will always carry it with me.

sun, surf and cervezas on the north coast

2006-04-20T14:15:00.000-07:00

after all the jungle traveling, i needed a holiday... another one of john’s requests for his time in peru was to go to the beach and i had wanted to visit the north coast ever since being told how fantastic it was by a friend who used to live there. the weather in cusco had just changed to the dry season – meaning clear sunny days but really quite cold and dry nights – so sunshine and warmth sounded perfect.

the biggest town in that area is the surfer destination of máncora. i did some research and came up with a place to stay called vichayito bungalows a few kilometres south of máncora itself. and despite the fact that the price tripled for four nights because it was easter weekend, the place was definitely the right choice and still a bargain compared to destinations with similar beach paradise appeal in other parts of the world.

just before setting off, a friend whom i met in belize a couple of years ago, natalie, called to see what i was up to and when she heard our agenda, she decided to zip down from california and join us.

the closest airport was in piura, a three hour drive from the coast, and as we arrived late at night we were picked up by the bungalows’ driver, segundo, in his super disco car complete with flashing coloured lights on the hood, neon blue license plate holder and a ‘best of ‘80s movie soundtracks’ CD on the stereo. demanding he stop so we could pick up some road sodas, the three of us entertained ourselves by creating holiday haikus while speeding through the unseen desert. i’d write one down here but unfortunately they were all left at the bottom of an empty beer bottle.

vichayito isn’t really a village at all, just a line of houses and a couple of small resorts, and ours was the best: spacious thatched villas with hammocks, beach chairs and picnic tables surrounding a poolside dining hall and bar. the place is essentially run by a fantastic bloke called carlos who seemed to do absolutely everything except the cooking, and always with a smile and in a timely manner (the latter not being a peruvian strongpoint). at one point, he actually delivered lime daiquiris to us while john was in the hammock and natalie and i were lounging in the beach chairs, drawing. john was sure he had just hallucinated.

the villa had two bedrooms with three beds, leading to a discussion about who got to sleep where. the best choice, hands down, was what nats dubbed the ‘daddy’ bed as it was in its own room and had a double door at the foot that could be flung open in the morning for a clear view of the waves crashing along the beach. next was the ‘house meeting’ bed, named for the smoking and subsequent drawing sessions that took place on it... lastly was the undesirable, twin ‘bug bed’ that allegedly had biting things lurking (i never had a bite). diplomatically, we agreed to two nights each in each bed and we’d draw straws for the last night – or something.

our days quickly developed a vague routine: breakfast by the pool (horrendous instant coffee that became known as the ‘lotta lotta lotta’, as in add a lotta hot water, sugar and condensed milk); a swim and sun time by the pool (before the numerous children jumped in and peed in it); a visit to the fine sand beach for some wave diving and body surfing (much harder than it sounds – natalie succumbed to skin scrapes and a mildly twisted ankle and my bathing suit was irreparably snagged and stretched out); then a walk in one direction or the other along the beach (this became a ‘spot the dead thing’ nature walk – some examples included a large turtle with its eyes being pecked out by vultures, a seahorse, a blue footed boobie flown off course from the galapagos, endless fish and squid carcasses, and much more) before settling into a bit of lunch and a cold beer. by evening, it was cold showers, cocktails and dinner followed by a few rounds of cards. exhausting, no?

walking up the coast to máncora, we passed another pretty enclave called los pocitas with some fancy houses for rent and a five star resort. despite being high season, there were hardly any people until we came to máncora itself. the surfing and backpacker culture there encourages a very tanned and sleek crowd of mostly teenagers which was a bit distressing to us 30 somethings. natalie rented a surfboard and had a lovely time bobbing about and never catching a wave. being so near the equator (and four hours from the ecuadorian border), the sun is very strong so we made sure to spend lots of time under the brightly coloured beach umbrellas which in turn meant drinking beer. it also meant necessary trips to the baño which in this case turned out to be a commode simply plunked down in the sand with a bit of bamboo fencing around it. you peed, your feet got wet. we named it the catbox...

the food was almost entirely seafood, especially ceviche of fish, shrimp, crab and the northern specialty, conchitas negras (black scallops). at our request, a taxi driver took us to a locals place for all of the above and it was delicious. limey ceviche served with hard and soft corn kernels and slivers of hot recoto peppers was accompanied by potato-like boiled yucca. unfortunately the conchitas were my least favourite, being chewy and slightly fishy in flavour, more like squid flavoured mussels than scallops.

to return to the tranquility of the villa, we had to take a decidedly un-tranquil moto-taxi ride for about 8 kilometres along a very rutted dirt road. these three-wheeled scooters with a rickshaw seat and covering at the back varied greatly in quality and skill of driver, and beside inhaling all the fumes and dust, it was a rather unpleasant and nerve-wracking experience every time. then again, at about $5 a ride between three of us, we couldn’t really complain that much.

one day we ventured south to the next village of los organos, another surfing spot. after finding more dead things on the beach (have to wonder what’s going on that is leaving all this vulture feed??), we had a beer at one of a row of bars and restaurants along the beach. it was pleasant except for the strong stench wafting from a nearby fish processing plant.

the seven days we spent in vichayito were exactly what i needed to wind down my time in peru. i lived in a bathing suit and sarong, wrote, drew, indulged in banana daiquiris and grilled shrimp, went for walks, swam every day, even acquired a bit of colour which i haven’t done for years. so the bathing suit died and had to be left behind (one less thing for the suitcase), but i left feeling relaxed as well as happy to discover yet another facet of peru’s diverse geography.

manu jungle - part two (days 3-6)

2006-04-09T06:04:00.000-07:00

yes, there was definitely lots more to come - wildlife as well as drama. i woke up with a wretched sore throat, something that continued to plague me for days to come. however, i also woke up to the howler monkey sound again which will never cease to amaze me. i thought i might do a mini recording on the digital camera but during the evening, new guests had arrived and a barrage of german coming from the next room nixed any possibility of doing so.

today the 'activity' as waldo was fond of saying, was to take a short boat trip to cocha salvador again, this time to actually board the floating pontoon and look for giant river otters and other wildlife. however, a serious downpour had started up so everyone gathered in the dining hall to wait it out - and to complain. 'why can't these lazy people mend the paths so they don't flood?' (er, we are in a RAIN forest?? i have to admit i lost it at the 'lazy people' comment and made my opinions of the brits' opinions known. all that achieved was a slightly higher incidence of barbed comments aimed in my direction.) a couple hours later, we set off and loaded up on the floating pontoon. 'how do we know it's safe? the last people left it filthy.' (there was one green plastic bag on the floor.)

this outing was beautiful - the still calm waters of the oxbow lake could be appreciated now that we weren't in a motorized boat. the wildlife was coming out of the canopy to dry off from the downpour. telltale bubbles indicated a sizeable black caiman - we just saw the eyes and snout before it submerged. a tree full of pretty little sand-coloured nighthawks took off as we approached in a cloud of white underbellies. a pair of the prehistoric hoatzin birds squawked loudly in the overhanging trees. and then we saw them - a family of five giant river otters swimming across the lake right in front of us. we slid closer and watched them play and splash for about half an hour. you could hear their breathing as they swam about, popping their heads out for air. two were crunching large fish which we could also hear. they are locally called 'lobos del rio' because of their supposedly wolf-like appearance and social habits. when one of the adults climbed out of the water onto a log, it was easy to see the cream spots which are as unique as a fingerprint on its chest and the long whiskers. a couple of the younger ones came closer to us and hissed as a warning. having the privilege to see these incredible, endangered creatures at such close range in their natural environment was possibly the highlight of the manu trip for me.

on the way back to the lodge, waldo said that we could do the two hour hike instead of the 10 minute boat ride and of course john and i jumped at the chance to get away from the moaning and getting stinkier-by-the-minute-due-to-being-afraid-of-what-they-might-find-in-the-shared-showers crew. i almost started to cry when waldo changed his mind and said we couldn't go without a guide. i dragged behind the others at the pace of a snail on quaaludes, mildly amused by the discovery that the hip replacement of the old guy squeaked when he walked.

in the evening, the new group joined us in the dining hall, prompting more whining. 'they aren't very friendly. they better not drink our free pisco.' john and i stayed up for a bit, listening to one of the brit guys' story about driving across europe to st petersburg after the war in a vw beetle, eating caviar with the british consul. lah dee dah.

the next day involved another slow-as-molasses walk but this time on the opposite side of the river to cocha otorongo, another oxbow lake, and with three research volunteers that had asked for a ride back down to boca manu. ('why do they have cameras? that doesn't seem right.' - said with other comments as if to say that these poor young peruvians couldn't be trusted with such things.) the trail went past an enormous fig tree with root buttresses about 20 feet high and an enormous mushroom.
red and green macaws made a racket in the trees above and spider monkeys could be seen foraging for fruit in the canopy. we reached a high observation tower ('why are we bothering? there obviously is nothing living in this lake.' 'this looks very unstable.' 'is this a good idea?' 'it's too high.' UNBELIEVABLE!!!) and everyone did go up despite the comments. at the top, the view was lovely but the serenity quickly curtailed when one of the other women was stung on the head by an enormous, evil-looking hornet. a nest of them lurked in the corner. i did feel sorry for her as i know how painful insect bites can be but at this stage, i was harbouring secret wishes that it was one of the others that had been stung. this incident provided fodder for more bitching: 'the day is ruined.' 'the park should exterminate these pests.' (er... this is a wildlife reserve so polishing off a nest of hornets is rather at odds with the ruling philosophy.)

the trip back down to boca manu was pleasant and full of more wildlife spotting - an enormous black eagle, kingfishers, parrots, a butterfly that attached itself to the front of the boat for a quite some time despite a fierce breeze. the best sighting was a group of four capybaras (giant guinea pigs) swimming across the river and lauching themselves on the bank. they look quite bizarre, like small, furry hippos. one purposefully strode over a low bush seeming to enjoy the twigs scratching at its underside.

we were served another lunch but by this time, the novelty of artificially flavoured cream filled biscuits and dried corn had worn off. i awaited more cold beer at boca manu instead. arriving in boca manu, it was noticeably hotter so the beers flowed. suddenly our reverie was fiercely interrupted by someone blasting madonna's 'holiday' album at top volume over the town p.a. system. the whole album, mind you. hilarious and painful all at once.

the last night was spent back at the manu lodge and during the afternoon, john and i went for a very muddy hike with waldo alone. we were treated to saddleback tamarin monkeys - small and cute with orange haunches - and tapir footprints. despite the heat and the mosquitoes, i love slogging through the squelchy mud in boots enjoying the jungle.

in the morning, we were due to be ferried across the river to an airstrip and flown back to cusco. however, in this part of the world, everything is contingent on weather conditions and it poured and poured all morning long. on the bright side, because of the rain i saw a yellow striped poison arrow frog but i was at the end of my tether as far as putting up with our fellow travelers. i darkened at the thought of having to spend another night couped up with them. suddenly, a water-sodden building at the back of the clearing totally collapsed with a loud noise that sounded like a tree falling. no one working at the lodge batted an eyelid.

at this point i could tell that waldo was completely fed up and would do everything in his power to get our group out of the jungle. all morning, a series of inane questions and griping. 'waldo, when will the rain stop? (i kid you not...) 'i'm very disappointed we didn't see a snake.' without warning, waldo announced that we were going to the airstrip as the plane had taken off from cusco and was heading to a mining town. there was a possibility that the rain would clear enough for the plane to land in boca so we needed to be there in case. at the crucial moment, john had disappeared on a walk but thankfully reappeared before i had to tell waldo.

the airport was just a grassy strip and an open air hut where we were weighed with out baggage. miraculously a plane arrived, not the commercial liner but an 18-seater military plane with no frills. two studly peruvian air force pilots dressed in olive green flight suits got out and crossed over to the hut to do some paperwork. while we were waiting to load up, it transpired that the two complaining women were scared out of their wits to fly, let alone in little planes. as a final piece of sod's law, john and i somehow ended up being seated next to the women, one each. i loved the incredibly noisy engines, the cowboy feeling about being taken out of the remote jungle on a nonpressurized plane by two dashing pilots wearing oxygen masks adding to the air of danger, watching the steamy dark green jungle with its brown snaky rivers receding far below before turning into the pointy sparse andes around cusco. it was only a 35-minute flight so my indiana jones fantasy didn't have long to live but it was fun nonetheless.

so despite some dreadful traveling companions with decidedly colonial attitudes (so 19th century, my dear) but some of which provided entertainment in the retelling (my personal favourite - husband looking for wife: 'darling? where's darling?' her response: 'darling is here.'), the manu trip was an experience of a lifetime.

manu jungle - part one (days 1-3)

2006-04-08T06:02:00.000-07:00

when my friend from high school days, john, decided to do a trip to peru and visit me for a few weeks, he told me that he really wanted to see the amazon jungle. true that i had already visited the peruvian jungle once before at puerto maldonado but i wanted to go again and this time it was an opportunity to venture much deeper into it. we chose manu national park, a biological reserve that was declared a UNESCO site in 1987, because its protected status has allowed flora and fauna to thrive. a small part of the park is designated as a tourist reserve area while the rest is untouched.

only a few operators are permitted to maintain lodges and bring in tourists, and getting to the park itself takes quite a bit of time, so it is one of the most expensive destinations in peru. i rationalized it by telling myself it was very possible i would not have an opportunity like this ever again. we took a six day trip with manu expeditions that started with an orientation meeting in cusco. john was in machu picchu so i went along and met our guide, waldo, and fellow travelers - six of them, all brits, four of which were in their late 60s and early 70s, with one knee, one ankle and two hip replacements between them. apparently there wouldn't be a lot of high energy activities on this trip...

on sunday morning, we all piled into a purpose-built vehicle, the front end of which was a diesel-engined truck, the back a sort of bus/rv that was fitted with ex-airline seats, circa 1974. i kept pressing the 'stewardess' button with the female-in-a-dress icon but to no avail. armed with waterproof clothing, sunscreen, water canteens, hats and 98% deet insect repellent, we set off for our first night's destination, the cock of the rock lodge - named for one of the national birds of peru- which was located in the cloud forest on the eastern slopes of the andes.

the 8+ hour drive took us up to the mountains around cusco, through little campesino villages with markets in full swing and to a pre-inca burial site where the ruins of small stone tombs resembling 5 foot high mushrooms were perched on the edge of a cliff. at one point we were held up by an ancient truck that had broken down and was blocking the road. some men devised a method of getting it out of the way by pushing it with another truck via a plank of wood rigged between the two. despite being on a curve with a serious drop off to one side, they succeeded in moving it in one go. this was just one of several breakdowns, landslides and fallen trees that impeded our progress along the very rutted dirt track.

the cloud forest jungle is the type found around machu picchu - waterfalls, butterflies, hummingbirds, fireflies and orchids are everywhere. after a lux night at the lodge complete with free pisco sour, we were roused early to walk a few minutes up the road to a 'lek,' an area of forest where the bright red, crested male cock-of-the-rock bird does his mating song and dance with great flourish while the female watches and eventually selects the best dancer. no one knows why the birds choose a certain part of the forest and apparently the venue changes from time to time, but having the privilege to watch the ritual was a riveting experience.

a few more hours of serious 4x4 driving brought us past coca plantations to a little town where we were instructed to buy wellington boots for the muddy jungle trails. it was amazing that a place in the middle of nowhere even had such a shop, let alone boots in all our sizes. the next segment of the trip involved transferring to a motorized dugout boat which then took us downriver for 5+ hours. the steamy hot jungle air was tempered by the breeze caused by the motion and despite being showered with murky river water every few minutes because john and i were sitting in the front of the boat, i was thrilled to watch the amazon jungle unfold with every curve of the river - huge trees towering along the banks, birds everywhere. the cook even served us a plated lunch on the go - very posh for the jungle.

at the confluence of the madre de dios river (which we were on) and the manu river (which we were headed for), we arrived at the town of boca manu - little more than a collection of rickety wooden and thatch buildings, a football pitch and lots of chickens, ducks, pigs, dogs and rabbits running around. this stop was for us to buy any booze we thought we might need for the next few days in the remote jungle (lots as it turned out because everyone liked their drink on this trip). john and i bought a couple of cold beers and sat on a porch with the others, waiting out a sudden tropical downpour and being entertained by a tiny piglet that seemed to think it was a dog. it was following a puppy around which it then attacked when the puppy wouldn't pay attention to it.

it was about at this point when i really started to notice that the four older brits, two of which live in nairobi, were rather fond of that stereotypical british pastime of whining (or whingeing, as we call it in england - and being english myself, i can get away with pointing this out...). they had been traveling around south america for five weeks and this was the last port of call. as they were all revoltingly well off, they had stayed at all of the top hotels throughout the continent and made it clear that they were expecting the same standard of accommodation on this trip. i knew from past experience that they were in for a shock.

just past boca manu was the lodge where we were to spend two nights. the standard jungle lodge in this area is composed of a series of wood and thatched cabins on stilts in a clearing around a larger dining hall/kitchen building constructed in the same style. the more upmarket lodges have proper beds with mosquito nets, ensuite bathrooms with cold showers and filtered river water - clean but brown and a bit cabbagey in scent - and no electricity apart from a generator that is used as little as possible. this place was all of the above and sheer luxury compared to the place i had stayed in before in puerto maldonado. it was sheer atrocity to the brits.

a sample of complaints: the cabins were too far from the dining hall (a two minute walk), the chairs in the dining hall were uncomfortable (standard plastic outdoor chairs), the river bank where the boat unloaded us was slippery and dangerous and should be properly built (all over the jungle, such launches are just steps cut into the mud as the river rises and falls constantly), etc. etc. john and i had a couple of glasses of wine we had brought and retired to our cabin to get away from the complaining and instead enjoy the amazing orchestra of a jungle night.

after leaving manu lodge, the third day's traveling involved another 5 hour boat ride into the actual manu reserve and to another lodge, this one run by the local matsiguenka tribe. if i thought the brits were irritating enough with their complaints about the last place, what came out of their mouths at this place - with shared showers and toilets that sort of worked, doors that were just a piece of canvas stretched over a few wood sticks, muddy paths that flooded after five minutes of a downpour - i had another thing coming. 'this is disgusting! we can't be expected to stay here! we want to return to the other lodge this minute! (!!!) the brochure was totally different. we're being done on the cheap. blah blah blah.' er, you are THREE DAYS into the jungle??? poor waldo was at the receiving end of this tirade and was starting to show a bit of stress.

regardless, the afternoon was spent doing a very, very slow nature walk, dressed in long sleeves, long trousers and the newly purchased wellington boots. waldo would take a few steps, stop, look around, then continue for a few more. from time to time, he spotted a monkey or a bird - we saw spider monkeys, red howlers, eagles, parrots and more. i love the sheer diversity of flora and fauna in the jungle and was very happy pottering about, looking high and low at all that was around me.

this was the heart of the trip for me and there was lots more to come.

canyon with condor

2006-03-29T07:29:00.000-08:00

yet another dot on my peru radar was the cañon del colca, an enormous ravine in the andes that is twice as large as the grand canyon and a place where the rare andean condor is often sighted. i flew into arequipa as i had zero desire to sit on a long bus journey and then signed up with a two day tour. this is the easiest way of getting into the canyon with limited time.

on the trip with me were two couples, one from england and the other from canada. the canadians were completely bird-obsessed. i've never seen anything like it. as our guide, daniel, and driver took us out of the city and out onto a pampa behind el misti, the active volcano that stands sentinel over arequipa, the canadians wanted to stop every five minutes for some bird or other. as much as i love wildlife and am keen to note birds, we also wanted to get to the valley before dark.

the area around arequipa is very volcanic and raw somehow - lunar landscapes with unusual plants like a big spongy pale green one that resembled brain coral and herds of alpaca and llama. at one point, we crossed a blown out volcano crater dusted with snow, a height of 4,700 metres above sea level.

we stopped for a bird fest that involved flamingoes, andean gulls, swallows, andean caracaras, moor hens, ducks of some variety and much more. after about four hours, we arrived at the edge of the canyon overlooking the town of chivay (pronounced 'chi-buy'), a rather fantastic view spread out below us. at this time of year (the wet season), the hills are green and the valley lush with crops of corn, potatoes and quinoa planted in the remnants of pre-inca terracing.

down a potholed dirt track that one point doubled as a local landing strip, our hotel was a refreshing surprise - big rooms with thick alpaca blankets on the bed, a sitting area around a big fire pit in the main building and more board games than you could spin a foosball handle at, including a machu picchu version of candyland. i went for a short walk after lunch in the cold air and fell in love with a baby donkey that was prancing around in a country lane. very sweet.

the rains set in for the remainder of the afternoon so there really wasn't anything we could do except put on bathing suits and pay a visit to the local hot springs, la calera. not too sulphury like many of these spots are, the indoor pool was round like a giant hot tub and deliciously warm. we lounged for the better part of an hour and then returned to the hotel with the idea to cosy up to the fire with pisco sours in hand. how unhappy were we when we found 'our' sitting area full of a biking party that had arrived in our absence. eventually our group had our turn and it was the last element i needed after the long drive, hot soak and solid pasta dinner to induce a deep and excellent sleep.

woken up at 5am by the staff, i was thrilled to look out my window to a clear, crisp day, the morning sun just starting to illuminate the tops of the high mountains. three snow-covered volcanoes, including ampato where climbers discovered the frozen mummy now dubbed juanita, were visible in the distance. the morning's activities involved a 2 1/2 hour drive to condor cross, a lookout point over the canyon where the mighty condors can often be seen. just sitting on a wall taking in the majestic views of mountains, sheer drops and the fierce colca river over 1000 metres below was amazing in itself. a loud rumbling started far below and before my eyes, a considerable landslide took place on the opposite side of the canyon. i have never seen a landslide that size take place and certainly note from so far above. huge boulders tumbled into the river, a massive dust cloud ballooned up into the air. as it settled, everyone at the lookout suddenly noticed the enormous black and white bird soaring just below our feet.

truly a thrilling sight, this andean condor floated along on the thermals, its long 'finger' feathers at the tips of the wings and the white collar clearly visible. over the course of an hour, three immature condors appeared, two of them playing in the air divebombing each other and flying in tandem. other birds of prey also appeared - peregrine falcons, black chested buzzard eagles (the canadians told me...), kestrels. in total, we definitely saw eight individual condors and probably more.

later that day, as we were on the return to arequipa, i reflected on the special opportunity i had experienced seeing these amazing birds as well as the canyon itself. the trip was definitely worth it and perhaps it made me into a bit of an enthusiastic bird watcher even if not canadian.

lake ti-tic-aca

2006-03-24T09:29:00.000-08:00

that's the proper way to pronounce the name of the world's highest navigable lake, said angel the tour guide on the boat yesterday. to an english speaker, it was sort of like an italian explaining the difference in sound between one consonant and two - 'capello' versus 'cappello.' regardless, i had not wanted to miss visiting this special part of peru during my stay here so i planned a week of solo travels to puno (the port where most tours on the peruvian side of the lake leave from) and arequipa (to visit cañon de colca).

landing in the late afternoon, i piled into a colectivo (mini bus) with a load of peruvians for the hour-long drive to puno and gazed at the sweeping skyscape out of the window. the lake is on a high plain in the andes which makes for some dramatic cloud and light configurations - dark thunderheads were alternately dropping rain curtains or being pierced by golden sunlight. the road turned into a potholed dirt track just after the airport and then swung onto a broad, dusty main street in the town of juliaca which was lined with men holding little car repair stations, each with a display of used (some very) mufflers.

as we neared puno, the driver solicited destination information from the passengers so i chimed in. i had chosen the hostal el buho (the owl) for no other reason than i like owls. i have since discovered that puno also has a pizzeria el buho, a newspaper called el buho and an internet cafe el buho. of course this all probably has to do with some owl that used to be seen here and no longer exists. hostal el buho could be how an owl would like its nest to be - dark and full of wood panelling but warm and comfortable.

it's quite hard to get out to the floating and real islands independently so i went for simplicity and signed up for a tour. at 6:40am, i was picked up and taken to the port with about 12 others from where we set off for a day-long trip. first was a brief stop on the floating islands, where the remains of the uros tribe live off tourist dollars. places like this present a difficulty for me - i want to see something that is unique but the overcommercialisation makes the actual visiting a bit hard to swallow. hardly any of the uros live on these islands anymore, only facilitating tourist visits and selling souvenirs, and when you are told that the islands were actually towed closer to puno for tourism, it makes it harder still.

however, stepping on the piles of totora reeds that are bound together to make the islands as well as the houses, boats, watchtowers and everything else was an unusual experience. at this point it was raining quite hard, and while the concept of living on floating islands is interesting, the constantly rotting reeds with their accompanying grassy funk and general soggy atmosphere that pervaded everything made it all a bit depressing. unbelievably, i heard a miaow and saw a little tabby cat trotting off between two shacks - surely such damp surroundings is purgatory for a cat?

after a short, drippy ride in one of the reed boats which had a great puma head with plastic soda bottles for eyes fashioned at the prow, we set off for taquile, a real island in the centre of the peruvian part of lake titicaca (bolivia claims 40% of it). by then i was very cold as had been soaked through by the rain. the altitude here is even higher than cusco so it is definitely not a warm place. angel told us it would be hot and sunny on taquile but it was hard to imagine then.

taquile is a very pretty place.
a path led from a small port on one side of the island, through the village and down the other side. miraculously the sun did come out and within minutes, i was enjoying the flowers and views across the now blue lake with my jacket tied around my waist. the path wends its way through terracing with crops of potatoes, maize and quinoa, with the occasional cow pegged to a wall. along the way, children dressed in traditional clothing begged for money for photos and candy - i gave them some buttons with pictures on them that i have been lugging about this country for months. (i'm happy to say that i got rid of them all on this trip.)

lunch was held at a little restaurant on the highest point of the island - quinoa soup and surprise, surprise, another omelette for me! the soup was good but surely made with chicken stock that my vegetarian diet disagrees with, however when traveling, there is a time and place for everything. afterward, i sat in the sun with a beer and chatted with a fellow traveler, a very hungover guy from zurich. i bought a pretty silver filagree and peruvian turquoise bracelet from a girl for 8 soles ($2.70) and headed down the 500+ steps to the port. taquile is known for its textiles and stone arches, and a few of the local boys had positioned themselves slouching on the archways with knitting in hand (yes, the men do that here) asking the tourists to take photos for money.

the trip back seemed to go on forever on the sluggish boat, but i enjoyed the scenery and daydreamed about reaching up and poking the fat white clouds in their dark grey underbellies that seemed to be just above the water of the lake. you do feel as if you are on top of the world here, a special place indeed.

museums and street food - cusco

2006-03-20T08:05:00.000-08:00

since i was staying put in cusco for a couple of weeks, without any guests giving me an excuse to procrastinate, i took a few more spanish lessons and decided to visit a few museums and galleries as well as try out a couple of restaurants that had not yet crossed my radar.

choosing the modern art gallery in plaza san francisco as a starting point, i struck off. the gallery is housed in a colonial building that always has vendors displaying rows of mediocre paintings under the front arcades. inside i was disappointed to learn that there was even less to look at. a very strange set up of one long room to the right had an exhibition of pop art by media students. while an admirable concept, the art was shoddily mounted and presented, and quite frankly, not very good. i wandered into another hall which had been taken over by a conference set up, and wandered out two minutes later. in the courtyard were a few glass boxes with dolls in garish 'traditional' garb that scared the wits out of me.

ten minutes after i had entered the gallery, i was out and across the plaza at the entrance of the garcilaso house where the regional history museum is set up on two levels. this place totally made up for the lame gallery (noted in a top guide book as a 'welcome addition to cusco,' by the way) and had signage and a brochure in multiple languages to clarify what you were looking at. starting with a mural of the cusco valley before the ice age and fossilised bits of mammoth bone, the museum went on to display ceramics, weapons, gold and silver miniature llama sculptures, large stones carved into pumas and more. i enjoyed it all hugely. upstairs were rooms full of dull religious paintings in the cusqueña style which does nothing for me at all. the courtyard below was pretty though.

next on my culture list was the natural history museum, found just off the plaza las armas in the courtyard of the university. for one sol (30 cents), i had the one room museum to myself. at the same time endearing and revolting, the glass cases showed an assortment of stuffed local fauna ranging from cockroaches to a tarantula, from snakes in jars of yellowing preserving fluid to an ocelot complete with testicles. the boa constrictor was awkwardly draped across a dry branch, straw stuffing bursting through the skin in places. birds stuck onto poles looked as if they had been retrieved from an oil spill and the butterflies had put up a good fight in the net before succumbing to the pin. in the front, three dioramas depicting the sierra, the coast and the jungle were lovingly presented, even if the ocean was a piece of blue painted plastic sheeting, and my favourite item had to have been the fossilised tail and part of a shell of a giant armadillo. judging by its size alone, seeing that in real life would have been a shock.

my final museum was the inka museum, a large complex tracking the human history in the cusco area in chronological order. lots of ceramics and figurines, including rows of tiny (approx 1 inch high) carved turquoise men - perhaps game pieces? - were on display. i spent rather a lot of time here but mostly on the early stuff as the more recent displays of the spanish invasion and current peruvian outfits of brightly coloured embroidery and shoes made of tires were not as interesting.

all this culture left me with an appetite so i checked my list of potential late lunch spots, decided that i really wanted something that i knew would be good instead of having yet another flat omelette with one slice of tomato and dry bread, and went to my standby, jack's, for a delicious caramelised onion, mushroom and cheese toasty.

while eating, even though i would never patronise them, i found myself thinking once again about the five women who set up food stalls every evening in front of my house. i had been warned about these - however hungry or drunk i might be, i should never attempt to eat a street delicacy from here unless i was in search of excruciating, possibly permanent, stomach issues. the stalls look quite pretty at night, all in a row with their yellow lights and plastic sheeting, the sounds of frying and chatter, a small pack of dogs circling endlessly for scraps. once i saw two gringos ordering from one and it was very hard not to shout 'NOOOOOOO!!' from my living room window. unlike the taxi drivers who eat there every night, i did wonder how they felt the next day - perhaps not unlike a stuffed boa constrictor with the straw bursting out?

machu picchu... the second time

2006-03-11T07:23:00.000-08:00

i really do feel spoilt by having the opportunity to visit mystical, magical machu picchu for a second time. okay, so i'm not about to have some hippy-dippy moment like the woman standing at the entrance to the site (the guardhouse) with arms outstretched and legs wide, chanting crystal-infused prayers, but the place does inspire me.

on this visit, i sought out particular features within machu picchu that i had not spent enough time with last time such as the stunning temple of the condor. here, a flat rock on the floor is carved into the shape of the bird's head, complete with the unmistakable white ruff around its neck. two enormous, natural rocks rise up behind it, in symbolic illustration of outstretched wings.

i also wanted to do the inca bridge walk - a 20 minute side trip through some cloud forest, along a narrow muddy trail with a considerable drop off on one side. the bridge itself is a feat of construction, built from stacked rocks against a sheer cliff face with a hole that is covered with a few logs. these could be quickly removed if necessary to hinder an unwanted guest from entering the citadel.

here hummingbirds were divebombing each other in territory disputes with loud squeaks, metallic green flashes visible as the sun caught on their feathers. a huge cream coloured butterfly drowsily flapped through the foliage, looking for all the world like a fake toy on a string. the surprise came when the light hit its back creating a brilliant flare of irridescence.

the 'most beautiful wall in south america' (per machu picchu's western 'discoverer,' hiram bingham) is another impressive example of incan stonecraft - perfectly fitted, gnocchi-shaped blocks that gently pillow outward but in total, form a straight, solid wall near the temple of the sun.

i sought out the flat, round mortars as i find them pleasing in shape and for the fact that no one really knows their purpose and the large stone which was shaped to represent two mountains in the distance: putucusi and yanantin.

but regardless of all the different points of interest that are found within m.p., my preferred activity is to just sit, listen, smell, look and feel the considerable energy of the place. like the resident llamas, perhaps i should have shown my appreciation by giving a wall a kiss.

sacred valley walks and ruins

2006-03-08T11:58:00.000-08:00

trekking is one of the big draws for the more adventurous travelers to peru, and the sacred valley and machu picchu are the obvious destinations for this activity when you are in cusco. the inca trail is the famous hike - four days and three nights of hiking along incan paths that ends up in machu picchu itself on the last morning. unfortunately this has become so popular, with up to 500 people starting the trek every day, that some foreign tour agencies have removed it from their offerings.

i wanted to do a different trip but still end up in machu picchu. for example, the lares valley route includes two high passes (one at 4,700 metres) and the promise of hot springs at the end. due to timing, we weren't able to get in with an existing tour with all the accoutrements of llamas, guides, cooks, porters, horses, etc unless we did it privately, but that cost was prohibitive. instead, jimmy c and i settled for two day hikes in the sacred valley, staying the night in the pretty town of ollantaytambo at the top end of the valley.

day one saw us taken by van to the trailhead a half an hour outside cusco where our guide, guillermo, hired two local kids to help us find the way - a very good idea as it turned out. the trail wound up through a little valley occupied by adobe homesteads, friendly locals, free-roaming pigs, cows, dogs and chickens, and fields of corn, potatoes and quinoa clinging to the slopes. the weather couldn't have been more perfect with bright sunshine shimmering on the leaves of gum trees in the slight breeze.

up and up we climbed, very slowly as the altitude brings on physical exhaustion very quickly, with every local man, woman and child greeting us with open stares and a 'buenas dias' or 'hola.' at the first crest, we were presented with a stunning view of the sacred valley below us, the jagged and sometimes snow-tipped peaks of the andes stretching across the horizon. variations on this theme accompanied us for the entire 14 kms (8 hours) of hiking we did that day.

we stopped for a bit of lunch on the side of a hill on a grassy patch near some grazing llamas and men hard at work turning soil in an almost vertical field. before moving on, we were being practical tourists and applied sunscreen on ears and heads which had the children giggling and whispering. between that and their ability to zoom on ahead, unfazed by their packs with some of our stuff in them, i was vaguely entertaining thoughts of chucking them over the edge but they redeemed themselves by saving us a lengthy detour when they discovered a trail was closed. i should mention that they were also quite sweet.

later in the afternoon, the trail took us through a beautiful, narrow canyon with a rushing stream - one of the important entrances to cusco. remains of incan steps and walls could be seen in places. just beyond that was the site of huchuy cusco, ruins that are part mud and part stone overlooking the sacred valley. the mixed building styles have confused historians as to who exactly built the site and when. a pretty, small green snake slipped over the edge of the trail in front of us on the way in. once inside, we sat down to admire the view. guillermo told us stories of hauntings he claimed to have heard in this battle-afflicted settlement, reason enough for him to not camp here as many tour operators do with their groups.

the last hour and a half of the trek involved descending a very steep trail all the way to the bottom of the valley to a town called lamay where we were to hire a taxi to drive the 40 minutes to ollantaytambo. at first it was relatively easy going but soon we came to a point where the trail had been dynamited out by workers (who were still blowing things up as we walked, causing small stones to rain down on us from above). the rest of the way was down narrow, slippery trails that were more suitable for mountain goats than clumsy white people in big hiking boots. and did i mention that i decided to hike in a skirt that day? one bruised hip, a minor rip in one hand and a very dodgy knee strain were my battle wounds.

a terrifying taxi ride involving a driver who didn't seem to see the point of headlights in gathering dusk and drove at the speed of light instead and almost taking out a cyclist, and a car that smelt as if it the last passengers had been barnyard animals, took us to a nice little hostal in ollantaytambo. showers, beer and pizza were all fantastic before falling into bed.

the next morning, guillermo took us up a valley behind ollantaytambo where we visited with the local artisans and enjoyed the idyllic setting - one that for some reason reminded me of the scottish highlands because of the rushing streams and the high grassy hills. the rest of the day was spent doing some gentle hikes (that felt very difficult because i ached like mad from the day before) to an incan fortress and some incredible examples of terracing that stretched far up the mountainsides. the last segment of the trail followed a rushing stream back down into ollantaytambo.

in town, we took advantage of what was left of the afternoon by climbing the ollantaytambo ruins above the town - a serious step workout. the views down the valley were beautiful in the early evening light, those stunning snowy mountains in the distance as always.

we had dinner at a recommended restaurant where the chef/server looked like something out of a cheech & chong movie - the food was excellent despite that. then it was necessary to rest as it an early morning and machu picchu awaited us.

heat and wine in salta

2006-02-28T12:56:00.000-08:00

when i travel, i'm always interested in seeing the wildlife and lookout for animals. however, i prefer the animal spotting to not be traumatic, if at all possible. apparently that was not to be the case in argentina.

to take a little break from the city, we decided to take a side trip up to the northwest region of argentina in pursuit of a hot climate and wine. i had seen an article about salta, the name of the region and its capital, on a domestic flight in peru a few weeks back and was hooked. the photographs in the article showed stunning desert landscape surrounded by vineyards - which would pretty much sum up an ideal place for a holiday in my opinion.

after a horrific taxi ride to the domestic airport in buenos aires (the streets were flooded, the driver had no headlights and terrifying driving skills, or rather, lack thereof) and landing in salta early in the morning, we rented a basic little car at the airport. jim graciously let me do the driving because i am a terrible passenger and love to drive, especially in foreign countries. and don't you know that whatever the model, rental cars make the best 4x4s ever?!

taking the most direct route, we headed south to a town called cafayate (pronounced something like 'cah-fah-chah-tay') which is known for its high quality wine. the road, route 68, winds through the quebrada de cafayate, an incredibly scenic desert canyon with the unexpected feature of a wide, flowing river at the bottom. red walls give way to yellow, black and purple mud hills. green vegetation lines the coffee coloured muddy river. we found ourselves stopping every few kilometres to step out of the car and take it all in. at one point, we did a short walk up the 'devil's throat', a gash carved out of the crumbly rock by torrents of water creating a steep side canyon.

a few minutes later and we were coasting through lush green vineyards along a road lined with huge plane trees. i felt as if i had been transported from death valley to provence in seconds. the charming town of cafayate was a grid of leafy streets pointing to a pretty square, the buildings baked and dusty in the heat giving it an unmistakable south american feel. the andes provided the backdrop as well as the snow runoff that allows this high (7000+ feet) dry region to be so fertile.

couldn't have asked for better accomodation than the cafayate wine resort - a new lovely place overlooking the valley of vineyards, cacti and mountains. breakfast was served on the terrace and after a hot day of hiking, beers by the pool were just perfect. everyone who worked there was gracious and friendly and the cost was unbelievably cheap.

the hot hike was the result of stopping the car by the side of the road and striking off into the red desert landscape, but not before i found a beautiful green snake writhing around in agony after it had been run over. i made jim put it out of its misery and lamented the poor thing's fate (traumatic animal situation #1). about ten minutes into our hike, a strange sound like a child crying eminated from a side canyon. a little goat emerged, bleating like crazy. obviously attracted to the sound of our voices, the kid came straight up to me and let me stroke it. brown, white, with black 'legwarmers' and a sprouty little tail, it was hard to resist.

you often see herds of goats being tended in the wild here but this one was alone. lost cute baby goat! what to do with it?! (traumatic animal situation #2) jim poured water into my hand and it drank like crazy, pawing me with a sharp hoof when the water ran out. we decided to figure something out to do with it on the way back and set off. of course it followed and at one point, i turned around to see it trying to get down off a big rock but it slipped and i caught a sight of it twisting in the air, legs up. my stomach sank. it was okay but from that point on, jim called it 'rocky.'

later in the day when rocky was quite some distance behind us, i saw two people with two larger goats and i swear i saw rocky following them. i do so hope they had come back to collect it - we certainly never saw rocky again.

when it came time to drive back to salta and return to buenos aires, i convinced jim that we should take the long, scenic route - seven hours instead of 2.5, mostly on a dirt track. the road winds through dozens of different dramatic landscapes, from green valleys to dry mud hillocks, from expansive vistas with snowcapped andes in the distance to stark red desert washes dotted with cardone cacti. we bumped through the occasional town, often made up of no more than a few adobe brick buildings and a whitewashed church. flocks of green parrots, circling birds of prey and lone foxes crossed our path (non-traumatic animal situations).

signposting was nonexistent when we needed it so we ended up on an even longer route than planned, but considering the car had developed a rather serious sounding rattle in the front right axle at that point, it was probably better that we remained on the somewhat more traveled road (two to three cars passed us an hour). on a particularly desolate stretch, a cloud of dust came charging toward us. the cause of the dust was two burros, running directly at us. odd behaviour i thought, as i slowed down to let them pass. instead they stopped right in front of the car and then one of them came around to the passenger window and stuck his head in, baring teeth and frankly being quite scary (traumatic animal situation #3). i started driving off and the burro kept right up, breaking into a gallop as i sped up. run away!

despite the heat, dust and stress about whether the car was going to remain in one piece, the trip was great. i had wanted to see the 'huellas de dinosaurios' (dinosaur footprints) that were marked on the map but we didn't have time and even though i am quite sure dinosaurs are extinct, why tempt another traumatic animal situation?

brilliant time in buenos aires

2006-02-23T13:31:00.000-08:00

for years i've wanted to visit buenos aires. something about the way the name sounds, the fact that it means 'good airs', that it has often been referred to as the 'paris of south america' - all these aspects piqued my curiosity.

recently my friend jimmy c invited me to join him on a week's holiday in argentina, so i agreed to meet him at lima airport as he passed through from the states. we flew down to buenos aires through the night, me exhausted and as dried up as a tumbleweed carcass on the desert floor due to a rather raucous evening in lima (i had an eight-hour layover there which i spent drinking pisco sours with a new friend, maria, whom i had sat next to on my first flight to peru back in november), and upon arrival, we were picked up by a driver who delivered us to our hotel.

the first thing i noticed about buenos aires is that it is enormous, suburbs spreading for ages before the main artery drops into the city proper. we were staying at a boutique place called five buenos aires in palermo viejo, a somewhat newly trendy part of town full of great restaurants, bars and little shops. the weather was deliciously warm and sultry the first evening, so we found a bistro with tables in the street and drank cold beer while watching the locals. almost everyone was stunning to look at and absolutely everyone had a dog. in fact, as a result of such doggie love, the sidewalks were veritable minefields which made the practice of sightseeing, especially that of noting architecture of tall buildings, quite a challenge.

downtown was made up of the wide boulevards, grand buildings and pedestrian shopping streets that are reminiscent of paris. we started with the teatro colón but i loathe organised tours so that was a quick stop. much more preferable to me (and thankfully to jimmy c too) was to wander around the city, vaguely aiming for certain neighbourhoods or a particular restaurant or sight and in the process, savouring the character of a place. in that manner, we found ourselves in san telmo, the old quarter of the city with leafy streets and lovely old houses not unlike those found in the french quarter of new orleans.

another interesting neighbourhood was la boca with its brightly painted houses and tango dancers in the street. very touristy but still a pleasant place to spend an hour or two. we were warned by a local not to venture too far from the 'caminito' as the area is a bit rough around the edges and allegedly not safe for tourists. of course i had to walk at least a block into the forbidden zone and quickly decided that the stench of rubbish-saturated mud was enough to keep me away.

back on the main drag, we settled into a beer only to be caught up in a little drama that unfolded at the next table. an elderly woman collapsed and at first, no one seemed to be sure if she was dead or not. jim helped to ease her to the ground; i found myself holding her hand while her frantic daughter pleaded a policeman for help. thankfully, she had just fainted and all was well but another beer was in order after that.

another day was spent poking around the botanical gardens which i renamed kitty gardens because everywhere you looked there were cats of all sizes and colours dozing, playing, washing. to get around town, we used the 'subte', or underground train, when feasible which was a lot like the new york subway but much cleaner and the equivalent of only 25 cents a ride.

in the evenings, we had some incredible meals with terrific argentinian wine. salmon with a peanut sauce followed by szechuan pepper ice cream and caramelised apples at a delightful little place in palermo called social paraiso. i don't even like peanuts and this was fantastic. jimmy c ate his weight in melt-in-your-mouth argentinian beef. no doubt about it, we'd get fat in buenos aires.

never made it to a tango show but not for lack of trying, and anyway there was plenty in the streets. and didn't visit la recoleta cemetery as i don't do dead people sights when traveling. but did decide that i could easily live here and ended up noticing real estate signs. now i've visited this fine city, i want more. of course.

cusco quirks

2006-02-19T10:12:00.000-08:00

really nice to be back in the pretty city of cusco after three weeks away. i realised that there are funny little sights and aspects to this place that make me smile. for instance...

a young mother and her two children were walking slowly through the main plaza the other day. the little boy was about five and had a stubby green parrot on his arm. his younger sister can't have been more than three, dressed in a bright red overcoat, white tights and black shoes. she was reaching up to the parrot, trying to touch it but her brother obviously didn't want to relinquish the pet.

after a few more steps, the mother bent down, picked up the parrot in one hand and placed it on the the little girl's shoulder. instead of staying put, the parrot proceeded to clamber down the front of the little girl's red jacket, grasping gold buttons, head first. upon reaching the hem, it clawed its way around the side and then started up her back. the girl happily tripped along as the parrot explored her collar and an arm.

the bright green bird on the crimson coat, the cute little girl not more than three feet high - the whole scene was hilarious to all who had noticed.

– – – – –

every time i walk out the door wearing biker boots, a series of young boys with footrests swarm me offering to polish my shoes for one sol (30 cents). peruvians seem to enjoy getting their shoes cleaned often, which is no surprise since with the frequent rains comes a lot of mud. i have not yet succumbed to this little diversion as i can't be bothered and generally consider the constant appeals rather tedious. however the other day, a new twist on the sales call was delivered to me: 'i clean your boots! one sol, two feet.' for the first time, i felt i should have said yes, if just to reward cleverness.

– – – – –

each saturday, a small crafts market sets up on plazoleta san blas, my favourite plaza and the location of san blas school where i now take spanish lessons. the quality of the offerings on most of the stalls tends to be a bit higher than many of the tourist shops around town, except i can't really imagine why anyone in their right mind would want to take home a replica of an incan wall. it might be smaller than the real thing but it's still made from solid stone...

on one beautiful sunny morning, a group of young men and women were practising a dance while the market was setting up around them. they were dressed in regular clothes - tight bellbottomed jeans and t-shirts for the girls, football jerseys and baggy jeans for the boys - from which they presumably would later change into a traditional costume that would enhance the dance moves and give meaning to the whooping and hollering they periodically let loose.

i have often seen a similar group of youths performing a dance on another plazoleta near my house, in a place where they are silhouetted in front of a softly lit church wall. each time, i am reminded of how cusqueñans enjoy a good celebration.

one night in lima

2006-02-16T09:59:00.000-08:00

last summer i briefly met two rather good looking guys from lima. at the time, i had no idea that peru was on my horizon but i do remember thinking that if they all looked like that in lima, i.e. tall, well-built and with long dark curly hair, perhaps i should think about visiting that city one day.

fast forward six months and i found myself sitting on a plane from los angeles, infused with nothing but apprehension at arriving late in the large, notoriously dangerous city of lima. i didn't speak spanish and had to spend a night there before continuing the journey to cusco. thankfully, despite being repeatedly told nightmare stories of thievery and muggings of tourists and only getting three hours of sleep, everything worked out fine and so began my series of one night stands in lima.

a disadvantage of being based in cusco is the virtual impossibility to fly anywhere without a very long sojourn in lima, either in jorge chavez airport or preferably in a hotel. now i know the drill, i try to build in enough time to have a decent sleep and see a bit of the city. i have a regular hotel to stay in thanks to the recommendation of a friend in cusco (‘go to the hotel kamana downtown because the showers are fantastic (a huge selling point in pressure-challenged peruvian bathrooms) and ask for christian because he speaks great english and will sort it out anything else you need.’), a favourite driver i request when needing airport transfers or other car services (giovanni who takes me to buy cerveza should i so require after a long flight), and know my way around the city well enough.

undeniably, lima is dirty, noisy and very polluted. the sky is almost always thick and grey, either with humidity or chilly fog. you feel danger lurking down dark streets. i was going to say that it won’t be on any frequent travellers’ lists of must-see, exciting destinations any time soon, but as soon as i wrote that, i was proven wrong by this month’s ‘travel + leisure’ magazine which touts the destination as ‘one of the great south american cities’. well, i suppose hype has to have a birthplace.

the plaza las armas is dignified and attractive with a respectable turnout of citizens during the evening stroll. colonial buildings abound in shades of pale blue, yellow, olive green, blood red – albeit under a thick layer of grime. a huge, ancient adobe incan pyramid lies ruined in a residential neighbourhood, hinting of past greatness. restaurants in the upscale neighbourhoods of miraflores and barranco serve very good ceviche, the national dish of peru. a slamming nightlife can be enjoyed at discos along the river. and my favourite – you can sip a pisco sour ‘catedral’ at the crumbling gran hotel bolivar in plaza san martin and then get lost in the darkened hallways and ballrooms without anyone noticing.

and perhaps on one of these trips i’ll even run into those two memorable limeño guys.

an english hiatus

2006-02-06T13:35:00.000-08:00

sometimes something happens in life that causes you to stop and take stock of what's important and assess how you've been living your life. for me, it came in the form of my beloved grandfather passing away without much warning at all.

granted, he was 90 years old but had recently remarried, had taken a honeymoon in spain and a month's holiday in california, and was in the throes of all kinds of house remodeling. not things someone who is planning to check out anytime soon would bother to do.

all of a sudden, cusco was a very long way from where i needed to be. a night in lima and an additional 23 hours of exhausting traveling (when did british airways' economy section get to be quite so awful?) and i was able to be in wintry england.

i'm not going to go into the details but despite being in england for a funeral, i was reminded of some of the things i love about it such as walks across the frosty fields, being reunited with family and friends that are often not seen for years and warming up in a country pub with a pint and a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

having said goodbye to granpa, i traveled up to yorkshire to spend time with my cousins and aunt, including baby joe - new life balancing out old life and all that. cousin kate and i nipped into sheffield to find an internet connection (peru, developing country - internet on every corner; sheffield, northern england, a hotspot during the industrial revolution - one internet connection in starbucks, 5 pounds for one hour) and had a quick walk through the rather pleasing winter garden.

so regardless of whether it's the thing to do, i would like to dedicate this online travel journal to granpa henry, because he always supported my sister and i as we pursued our interests in life and because he was the best granpa one could hope to have.

the white city of arequipa

2006-01-21T12:45:00.000-08:00

arriving in arequipa couldn't have come soon enough. sarah and i had endured a 9+ hour overnight bus ride from nazca to get there, breathing in a humid, meaty fug emitted by our co-travelers with no possibility of an open window. gag.

i had been told many times over that the white city of arequipa - so called because of the 'sillar' stone that much of the city including the huge cathedral on the plaza was constructed with - is a lovely destination and i agree. the second largest city of peru, it has a somewhat european flavour and an inviting, pretty main plaza. rising up behind the city is a mountain that resembles a child's drawing of a volcano, el misti. well, that's what the guide book said but while sarah and i were there, it was shrouded in, er, mist.

the hostel was another score. in fact, we decided that every place we stayed in during the week was great - all clean, comfortable, well-situated, staffed with friendly peruvians, with hot water and breakfast. and the average cost was $30 a night. this one had extensive gardens and fun quirks like an ex-rocking horse for a mini bar.

after the hideous bus ride, we hit upon the idea of finding some local hot springs. the region is volcanic so it would make sense that there would be some in existence. sure enough, we were told about a place called yura and for a few soles, we could have a driver take us, wait for an hour or so and bring us back in time for dinner.

off we went, through the suburbs plastered in political graffiti (there is a major presidential election coming up here in april) and out into what looked like badlands. not sure what we were expecting (idyllic mountain meadows?) but a cement factory it was not. nonetheless, a cement factory rose up before us, belching smoke, a sign indicating it was the pride of yura. then it became apparent that the driver didn't know where the hot springs were. under the factory, perhaps?

a few false turns and then a rather lovely spot nestled in a little valley and a hotel with entrance to the 'pozo tigre' (tiger well), all thankfully upstream from cement making. we soaked in the fizzy mineral pools the size of a large jacuzzi with a handful of locals obviously surprised to see us and it did feel fantastic. and then i noticed that all my silver jewelry had turned ferociously yellow from the sulphur. back in town, i consoled myself with a massive dinner that featured a sampling of rather good arequipeñan cuisine including spicy river shrimp soup with potato, squash, corn and cheese.

for the short amount of time that we had in arequipa, we chose to visit the extensive complex of the monasterio de santa catalina. a very important piece of colonial and religious history in peru, the monastery was an entire village that housed confined nuns until it opened its doors to the public in 1970. what interested me were the terracotta and cobalt blue walls lined with geraniums and cacti, the paintings of flowers and birds in the cloisters and the 'lavanderia' garden with a row of large split jars into which water flowed. the windowless cells and dreary religious paintings felt oppressive and as sarah pointed out, the place was probably really creepy at night with just candles for light.

many photographs later, it was time for the flight to cusco (bus was so NOT an option). a week's traveling was at an end and all our tickets had shown up just as they were needed, further proof that the peruvian process does work. at least, it did this time.

lines and trash in nazca

2006-01-20T10:40:00.000-08:00

ever since watching a documentary that speculated the nazca lines could have been created by extraterrestrial beings, i have wanted to see the lines firsthand. and the only way to do that is by plane. very small plane. stomach-churning, built-decades-ago plane.

the road into nazca is a straight shot across flat desert, not unlike nevada in the united states. you'd never know that you had blammed right across the 'lizard' drawing.

flights go up early in the morning for the best visibility so we were picked up at 6:40am (another piece of the trip fallen nicely into place) and introduced to raoul, the pilot. he carefully filled out and signed certificates proving that we had visited the unesco site before we even boarded. then he led us to the 4-seater plane, explaining the route he would take and what we would be seeing. the 30-minute flight only hits the most famous and easy to see sites.

once i chose to stop watching the wobbly dials on the dashboard (or whatever you call it on a plane), i could enjoy the elation of flying and seeing the desert crisscrossed with lines, trapezoids and drawings. the whale, the astronaut, the condor, the monkey, the dog, the spider, the hummingbird and more. truly an incredible sight. so beautiful and mysterious, it doesn't matter what their origins are or even if any of the theories are true.

nazca the town leaves something to be desired. despite busy streets, families strolling in the evening and an informative little museum that focused on the nazca excavations, the main plaza is modern and soulless, and two blocks from it, a dry riverbed absolutely choked with rubbish and all sorts of reeking unspeakables spoke of a lack of pride and respect to the local environment and heritage. in fact, the garbage problem in this country is massive and something that desperately needs to be addressed.

i won't be making any documentaries about nazca, lines or trash, but i do hope the roll of black and white film i shot contain at least a few decent images so i can ponder them and perhaps come up with my own theories.

oasis in the desert - huacachina

2006-01-18T10:39:00.000-08:00

an important part of sarah's and my decision to visit the south coast had to do with the fact that it is desert terrain which we both love. after suffering a london winter and the cold andean temperatures, respectively, we wanted heat and dryness. so the desert oasis of huacachina seemed like somewhere we needed to go.

surrounded by huge sand dunes, huacachina is a palm-fringed lagoon purportedly with restorative benefits and a few places to sleep, eat and rent dune buggies. we stayed at a lovely, peaceful place at the end of the lagoon, as far away as possible from the techno music. unfortunately peruvians often seem to like to be surrounded by loud noise and lots of people so what should be a peaceful, restful oasis is a rowdy place until late at night. in fact, when we told some peruvians where we were going, they didn't understand why we weren't staying in nearby ica instead where there were discotheques, restaurants and wineries.

getting up early in the morning to climb one of the sand dunes was very important as it was the closest thing that came to exercise and we had to balance out all the hours of lounging by the pool and eating large lunches. the views from the top were amazing - undulating sand dunes for miles, the edges appearing as sharp curves. some areas were tinged with black sand, creating a georgia o'keefe-esque canvas.

i think it took about 40 minutes to slog to the crest and 40 seconds to run back down in huge, slow motion leaps. for the rest of the very hot day, i had to choose between hammock or deck chair in the hotel garden which felt like a '50s hollywood film set. brutal.

pisco sours and smells

2006-01-16T08:15:00.000-08:00

cousin sarah arrived from london for a holiday last saturday, so i took the opportunity to drag her on a trip down the coast south of lima for the first week. mostly the trip was going to be by bus and since i prefer to know where i'm sleeping when i arrive in a new place, i booked us into hostels along the way. (good of sarah to trust my judgement!) as i had not arranged all the transportation and tickets to various parks, it was fortuitous that a contact of mine in lima suggested his friend could sort out everything in one fell swoop. the plan was that he would show up in our hotel in the morning before we set off and we'd pay him in dollars.

great. except that when jose appeared, he had a bus ticket to pisco only and a verbal promise that various tour operators of his would meet us at our places of lodging along the way with tickets to the next segment. and it was too late to issue a voucher or receipt. i've been in peru long enough to put aside my producer tendencies and have faith in the fly-by-night process that most things here seem to follow. therefore we said 'gracias' and parted ways with a chunk of change. what else was there to do...

and so off we went to pisco. i had wanted to go there not for the drink of the same name that the peruvians are so proud of, but rather to visit the islas ballestas just off the coast. because of their location in the humboldt current, these islands are home to millions of birds, colonies of south american sea lions and more. an added attraction is the twenty-five minute boat ride cruising past the enormous (128 metres high) 'candelabra' drawing etched into the side of a mountain on the paracas peninsula. the fact that no one really knows why the candelabra exists, what it means or how it was drawn made it all the more wondrous to behold.

you smell the islands before you arrive at them - a staggering cocktail of guano and fish dinners in various stages of digestion. and then you hear the inhabitants - comorants, 'peroooovian boooooobies' (as pedro the guide pronounced it), very cute humboldt penguins, and the barking sea lions, currently in mating season.

despite the day's activities, when dinnertime arrived i very much wanted to eat seafood as i that is something lacking in landlocked cusco. and so we asked the guy who had met our bus (with boat trip and the next bus segment tickets - the process was working) where to go. carlos bundled us into a taxi and took us to a restaurant called la viña de huver. i was so happy with an enormous plate of prawns drowning in a spicy potato sauce and lots of cerveza that convinced sarah we should pay for carlos' dinner too. $18 for three of us...

we finished off the evening sipping pisco sours on a balcony near plaza las armas, watching the locals on their evening stroll and happy that we at least had bus tickets to our next destination.

into the jungle - puerto maldonado

2006-01-11T16:29:00.000-08:00

stepping off the plane after a mere 30 minutes of flying time into hot, humid air felt absolutely fantastic after the thin-aired, chilly climate of cusco. but of course in the jungle such delicious heat comes with countless bugs, most of which like to devour gringo flesh like mine.

actually, i don't usually mind bugs and crawly things and the fact that i was dipping my big toe into the edge of the mighty amazon jungle far overstepped any worries about what i might encounter within. my friend caitlin and i had booked two nights at a basic lodge along the madre de dios river outside of puerto maldonado with the help of a guy named carlos, a friend of clark's.

boat is the main method of transportation in the jungle, and the long narrow dugouts with outboard motors provide a welcome breeze in the heavy heat. the madre de dios meets the tambopata river at puerto maldonado, resulting in a seemingly tranquil, muddy brown river up to 500 metres across. along the shores, a textbook profusion of greenery hides the interior from the river.

after discovering that the lodge was full and we were to sleep in a staff room next to the kitchen and share the bathroom with the staff for the first night, we had some lunch and set off for a little walk with our guide, maria mesicano. all of 25, she had only been working as a freelance guide for three years but was very good at spotting all sorts of wildlife and her english was excellent. she showed us many types of frogs, butterflies, plants, mushrooms, and more. she turned out to be delightful company throughout our trip and i would recommend her should you find yourself in the tambopata and madre de dios area.

in the evening, she took us on the same walk around the lodge to see the night crew, including the biggest, blackest and hairiest tarantula i have ever laid eyes on. 'it's a juvenile,' she said.

a night made sleepless by what seemed to be 'rodents of unusual size' running havoc in the thatched roof and along the top of the divider between our beds and the kitchen was ended by a 5am wake up call. maria had our 'activities' planned for the day beginning with a hike to lake sandoval. wellington boots were given to us to wear which made us giggle endlessly. a long-sleeved t-shirt, hat, waterproof trousers and wellies is such a sexy look. i felt like some jazzercise reject wearing those glad bag black trousers, sweating like a stuck pig.

at this point, we were dismayed to gaze upon our legs which were absolutely covered with sand fly bites. i had smugly noted the fact that i had no mosquito bites but apparently sand flies can't get enough of insect repellent. the night before we had sat on a picturesque little bench watching the sunset over the river, drinking the only beer (two bottles) available in the lodge and chatting with our fellow guests, which must have been when the massacre took place. i counted 150 bites on one ankle alone.

walking through the jungle, listening to the birds and monkeys, sweltering in the heat and stopping every thirty seconds to look at something of interest, i was surprised to notice that the jungle is amazingly fragrant. every few steps i caught a different scent - flowery, rich, green, warm - never unpleasant scents. i don't know what i thought the amazon would smell like but i loved what i experienced. i could only imagine how it must be when all the plants are in bloom.

after slogging along in our heavy and uncomfortable boots through muddy and rutted paths, we came to a boat tied up in a swamp. the three of us clambered aboard and slowly paddled our way through anaconda territory and out onto lake sandoval. all sorts of birds were in the trees along the edge of the lake including a pair of hoatzin which look like prehistoric chickens. a row of tiny, long-nosed bats were sleeping on the underside of an overhanging branch until we unwittingly disturbed them. turtles sunned themselves on protruding roots. unseen fish splashed in the water wherever you weren't looking. the feeling of gliding serenly across the oxbow lake was very relaxing indeed.

later in the day we were extremely grateful for the boots as we sunk into knee-high liquid mud on a place called monkey island. we saw a couple of capuchin tamarind monkeys who were obviously used to people but didn't linger as the name mosquito island would have been much more appropriate.

back at the lodge, we were now in our own hut. i had a shower in silty brown water pulled straight out of (and inevitably put straight back into) the river. the mosquito nets on the beds were stained with the blood of past users. candles were the light source after dark and then the water stopped running all together. being vegetarians, we apparently provided the staff with a challenge that eventually resulted in a pile of rice and some vegetables cooked in butter since we had rejected the banana soup with chicken stock and the gelatin dessert. i think 'rustic' is a diplomatic description of the entire lodge experience.

on our last afternoon, caitlin and i vetoed an 'activity' that would have taken us to see how the locals clear the land and plant food, and instead asked to be taken downriver to a well-established and large lodge so we could buy beer - well, get drunk in airconditioned pleasantness. not terribly cerebral on our part, but our lodge didn't seem to understand that tourists might want a cold beer after traipsing through the steamy jungle.

so a week later my bites are only just starting to fade but i am even more keen to visit other parts of the jungle in peru, and perhaps see some of the big wildlife this time.

mountain biking in the sacred valley

2006-01-07T14:46:00.000-08:00

many mad keen biking friends had told me that the area around cusco, specifically the sacred valley north of the city, is fast becoming a serious mountain biking destination. it was definitely something that i wanted to do while in peru, so when my friend leslie invited my friend caitlin and i to join a small group, we jumped at the chance.

for $15 equipment rental and $10 toward the bus and driver, we had a full day of biking and sightseeing, lunch and immense amounts of fun. the five of us started from outside a town called chinchero where juan, the driver, unloaded the bikes and we donned helmets, gloves and sunscreen. since he was meeting us at various points along the way, it was like having our own support van.

we set off down a dirt road that passed through a little village. like most dwellings in this area, the houses and outbuildings were constructed of dark adobe bricks topped with straw thatching, imparting a sense that all had grown out of the earth. pigs, dogs, cows and chickens lay in the road or ambled along in front of us, creating some interesting obstacles. little children waved and shouted 'hola!' as we cycled past.

quite soon we were out in the fields, negotiating wide but muddy and extremely rutted paths. enormous yucca plants grew on either side, their silvery spears reaching up to the clear blue sky. the weather could not have been better: sunny with a bit of a breeze. however, the cooler air belies the strength of the sun at 10,000 feet so lots of water was consumed along the way.

thankfully, the roads we took were generally even-keeled as i found even the slightest hill extremely taxing on the lungs as a result of the altitude. anyway, the views were best appreciated while coasting downhill.

the sacred valley is lush and green at this time of year, patchworked with handplanted fields overseen by the snowy peaks of the mighty andes. being able to cycle peacefully through such a ridiculously picturesque setting was an experience i will not forget.

at one point we missed our intended trail, but the result was venturing into a little hidden valley that ended up being a highlight of the day. a creek bordered by young eucalyptus trees wound its way through small, misshapen plots of corn, potatoes and beans. a bit further along a small hacienda with a few tethered animals perched above the crops, a field with four brown, velvety cows in front of it, contentedly lazing in the verdant grass. a large and vibrantly dark green hummingbird poked into yellow and pink flowers.

our lunch destination was moray, a stunning group of circular terraces built concentrically into the earth by the incas for agricultural and ceremonial reasons. before descending into the terraces, there was a feast of soggy sandwiches and ripe mango to be had (amazing how things taste so good when you've been adventuring through the countryside).

inside the terraces, it was interesting to note distinct temperature differences on each level. they were constructed so certain crops could thrive at different levels at the same time. looking down into the three depressions, it is possible to see how perfectly built the rings are, with stone steps protruding from the walls at measured intervals so a caretaker could easily move from one terrace to the next.

after moray, we cheated and took the van to a colonial village called moras from which it was all downhill on an mindblowingly bumpy road to the salt pans. very fun but challenging to hold on to the bike, and i won't even go into how much bruising my backside endured from the ride...

built into a hillside and fed by two streams, the salt pans have been in existence for about 500 years. from above, they resemble a jumble of paintboxes, albeit not very colourful paintboxes. imagine many shades of white - some with a touch of ochre, a drop of terracotta or perhaps a smudge of chocolate. the initial level of salt is destined for human consumption; the second is for animals; the last is used for industry.

thankfully, juan collected us at the bottom and from there it was an hour long drive back to cusco, stopping for a beer run in chinchero. altogether, it was a fantastic day and my only regret was not having a pair of padded bike shorts.

central market, cusco

2006-01-04T08:24:00.000-08:00

beside being assaulted by the riot of smells, the first thing i noticed upon entering the central market was how dark it was in the interior. the whole place is covered but not lit, which adds to the vaguely dangerous atmosphere.

initially i went with one of my teachers which was an educational experience as i drove him crazy asking what the names were for mysterious (to me) items and how to cook/eat/use them. very usefully, he pointed out which was his mother's favourite vegetable stall - surely a good little piece of knowledge when confronted with rows and rows of seemingly identical produce. but i have since ventured out on my own - keenly aware of where my money is - to buy heavy sweet mangoes, half rounds of knobbly cheese and obscenely large avocadoes. i'm hard pressed to spend more than $5 each time.

markets the world round have always appealed to me as they are such an integral part of a culture. here in cusco, after veering away from the hooks of pig skin, dripping turkey necks and piles of intestines (i know these are important foods, but being a vegetarian i can only take in so much before i need to look at soothing piles of potatoes and beans), i passed by long benches of people eating soupy lunches of meat, vegetables and rice. a group of children were playing jumprope - the kind that takes two people to twirl the rope while two others jump in the middle - down one aisle.

bowler hatted women with their long braids and full skirts sat on the floor with piles of leafy greens, mountain flowers and medicinal roots spread out on cloth in front of them, indicating to their wares while saying, 'compra me' - 'buy from me'.

burlap sacks folded down at the edges displayed dozens of different legumes: red beans, black beans, large yellow beans, lentils, quinoa, maize, rice and more. in front of these were tables of small, stacked plastic bags tied tightly at the top, bulging with puréed chiles in red, green and yellow; puréed parsley; bicarbonate of soda; salt; and others i couldn't identify. presumably the spices go with the various beans...

in the vegetable and fruit areas, enormous dark green pumpkins were split open to reveal stringy orange middles, a slice carefully balanced on top of the body of the squash. pale yellow corn on the cob (choclo) with large kernels lay side by side with dark purple corn ears. piles of sticky mangoes, yellow plums and what i found out to be rather tasteless pineapples were arranged above cosmetically challenged wild strawberries. i bought some intriguing dark red, oblong fruits that were described as 'tomatoes that you cook with sugar.'

large, round flat bread loaves with designs of flowers, squiggles, crosses or hearts carved on top were conveniently near to the cheese stands where i tasted some proffered delicious samples. the spice vendors also sold fish eggs in golden clusters, looking like some sort of mountain seaweed. how these figure in the local cusqueñan cuisine is something i have yet to discover.

and if one needed a refreshment, a row of women brandished newspapers as enticement to their stalls for a whipped fruit juice, or to sell you a brightly coloured jelly or flan in a plastic cup. and of course in the middle of it all, this being a catholic country at christmas time, a carefully arranged nativity scene.

* * *

as for the 'tomatoes that you cook with sugar,' i entered into a bit of (extremely uncharacteristic) domestic bliss yesterday and made a savoury chili jam with them. and i must say, it's pretty tasty with cheese. take note: this will quite possibly NEVER happen again in my life.

machu picchu... the first time

2005-12-31T19:53:00.000-08:00

one of the highlights of living in cusco has to be that it is the jumping-off point for machu picchu. and even though i was sure that the first time i would experience this wonder of the world would be via the inca trail, the combined facts of it being the rainy season and my sister, jennie, only being able to come to peru for six days, shaped the trip otherwise. so any visions i had of stumbling upon the mythical ruins early in the morning, smelling like a goat after four days of trekking in wool socks and sleeping in muddy tents, was put to rest by the temptation of an easy train ride and two nights in a hotel in aguas calientes.

the train leaves cusco at 6am, zigzagging up the hillside with tremendous effort - first in one direction, then the train stops, the back end becomes the front, and off it goes in the other direction. the track winds through the lush sacred valley, eventually joining up with the urubamba river. inca ruins and terracing are visible along the banks, interspersed by more modern abodes and towered over by mighty andean peaks. four hours later, you arrive in the town of aguas calientes at the foot of machu picchu.

the highlight of aguas calientes is the hot springs for which it is named. everything else is either a hotel or a pizzeria, some of the most expensive (relatively) in the country. typically, trekkers stumble into machu picchu after days of hiking, do a tour and then soothe their weary bodies in the restorative mineral baths. sister and i did everything in reverse.

it was pouring when we arrived and since the best way to experience mapi (as the locals call machu picchu) is early in the morning before the busloads of daytrippers descend, we decided to take to the waters. the warmest pool is also the busiest and most questionably murky, but we lounged in the funky smelling water for the best part of an hour. whatever is in there, it certainly makes you feel energetic and balanced the next day.

after a long night of listening to drenching rain and what could only have been a very large rat enthusiastically going about its business in the ceiling, i bought a ridiculous green plastic poncho in preparation for a soggy day at the ruins. but before i had a chance to unfold it, the mists parted, the sun came out and machu picchu presented itself in all its mysticism and beauty. birds sang and llamas haughtily surveyed their surroundings and us. i just wanted to sit on a wall and take it all in.

shunning a guide, jennie and i made our own tour helped by an informative book given to me by a thoughtful friend - a friend who had also recommended that we climb huayna picchu, the mountain at the back of every clichéd photograph of the site. if you look closely, terraces and ruins can just be seen at the top of that mountain and the trail that leads up to them is an hour of incredibly steep and slippery inca steps. combined with the thin air, the hike is not for the fainthearted but the views and sense of accomplishment once you are up there are incredible.

i was so taken with the scenery that i failed to notice a large black wasp which i leant on and which promptly stung me. the immediate pain was terrific but it didn't stop me from wanting to shimmy down the back side of huayna picchu on an equally steep trail involving vertical ladders and guiding steel ropes that lead to the rarely visited temple of the moon.

being surrounded by cloud forest with its hummingbirds, orchids and damp humid air was just as memorable an experience as actually walking through the ruins. in fact, the desire to explore the jungle, maybe see a spectacled bear and be far from the tourist hordes led us to seek out another dangerously precipitous trail the following day, despite aching legs.

putucusi is the mountain directly across from machu picchu and the peak can be reached by an inca path that starts just outside aguas calientes. follow the train tracks out of town until you see the steps leading up on the righthand side. possibly more challenging than huayna picchu because one must navigate quite a few of those slippery vertical ladders including one with 110 rungs, this walk also has far less traffic. again, even though it drizzled the entire time it took us to climb to the top, the clouds cleared to give us a remarkable view of machu picchu. however, at this point the battery in my camera had given up after 100+ photographs so you'll have to do the hike yourself to see what i mean...

there is so much to take in at machu picchu that one visit can't possibly do it justice. i am already planning a return trip in a few months' time, and this trip WILL include the inca trail. raingear and wool socks are at the ready.

a word about the cuisine in cusco

2005-12-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

okay, so i've been in cusco for a month, and i have managed to not get sick (knock on giant piece of very robust wood) and since food is so important to my reality, i want to pontificate on it for a minute. please indulge me...

i'm a vegetarian who eats fish. according to some, that makes me an 'aquitarian' or 'pescatarian.' whatever. the way i see it, humans as a species eat meat. we always have, and i could care less if someone orders a bleeding slab of meat the size of a small country while i'm across the table from them. i just won't be joining them in mopping up the sauce.

however, in peru the dining options are slightly more provocative to a gringo with 'requirements.' skewered beef hearts? pig skin dried in sheets?? corn beer with the fermenting process started by the masticulations of a local's mouth??? whole roast guinea pig that looks like a glossy school pet immobilised on a stick, teeth still intact?! blended aphrodisiac milkshakes made with live, skinned frogs!!! (that one is for men only, unsurprisingly, and has a particular type of frog quite worried about its future.)

and here's the flipside: by avoiding animal products, you have to navigate a different minefield that involves gauging the potential damage that will be done to your innards should you ingest contaminated vegetables and fruits. a good rule of thumb is to only eat what is cooked or can be peeled. and by all reports, lettuce should be avoided at all costs - its ruffled skirts provide nooks and crannies for villages of bacteria to thrive.

traditionally, i thoroughly enjoy salads. here, there are only a few restaurants where i have ventured into salad land and remained unscathed. i am trying to learn how to love avocados and cut the skins off of tomatoes, to find a balance between pizza and starvation.

but perhaps i'm being unfair because cusco actually harbours quite a few delicious restaurants, and i've eaten feathery crepes filled with rich andean cheese, mushrooms and spinach; tender kingfish ceviche (the premier dish of peru); perfectly grilled trout with garlic and potatoes; mangoes that taste like sorbet; local corn on the cob with enormous kernels; thick pancakes with caramelised plantains; pineapple juice whipped up in a blender; etc., etc.

i certainly won't starve and will probably have a few epiphanies along the way, but hopefully won't be able to tell you what guinea pig tastes like unless tortured. and i'll enjoy whatever comes my way with a few bottles of the local lager, cusqueña. litre bottle, please.

anthony bourdain, let me know if you want to shoot an episode of 'no reservations' down here so i can test all the weird things on you. and buy you a beer.

christmas dinner

2005-12-19T08:31:00.000-08:00

one of the great aspects of house swapping as opposed to just renting in a foreign land is that you inherit a very helpful list of contacts and prescreened friends. for this reason, i was thoughtfully invited to christmas dinner at carol and paul's house, friends of clark and jacqui. for a couple of bottles of searing peruvian red, i was welcome to join a dozen people to eat traditionally english christmas fare - turkey, stuffing, peas, carrots, onions, and even flaming christmas pudding with coins wrapped in tin foil in each piece. (actually, i personally don't eat turkey but the leeks and potatoes were delicious, and why spoil the picture?!)

carol and paul had just closed on the lovely house they are living in with their three kids so there was a little champagne bashing ceremony held outside at one point, complete with bottle tied to the tree which paul shattered with a, er, hammer. and paul was also given a present by his family of a handmade wooden version of the cusqueñan game, sapo, which involves chucking coins at a toad statue, attempting to land it in the mouth. of course. haven't had enough pisco in one evening to try that yet...

but speaking of pisco, i sampled my first shot of it that night - over ice, not in a pisco sour since i don't much fancy the whipped egg white atop any drink. it's in the same family as grappa and raki, made from fermented grapes and assured to give you a hangover from hell if not treated with respect. i stuck with the wine from that point on.

while sipping, i was introduced to a handful of expats who either hadn't returned to their home countries for the low season yet or live here full time, such as peter frost who has written a definitive walks guide to the cusco area, and his charming wife, rosie; and tammy, the australian restauranteur who runs the top eating place in town, la cicciolina.

what with the full on christmas decorations, the familiar food and the warm and interesting company, i felt like i had a bit of christmas here, even though i'm far from home.

an intruder

2005-12-19T08:01:00.000-08:00

since i've arrived in peru, i've been constantly warned about the high rate of crime that occurs here, especially of theft and of tourists being the target. the stories are endless: having mustard or something else distasteful chucked onto your clothing as a distraction; groups of women gathering around you and all of a sudden your bag is slit open or gone altogether; street kids reaching into pockets; taxi drivers stopping for gas and then saying the gas is bad and the car stops only to be pounced on a by someone following in a second car.

petty thievery is an acceptable way of making a living in the lower classes and therefore you have to be constantly aware of what you have, how you're carrying it, what you are showing. overall, i am quite concious of all this as i have had experience in many countries where this is a concern.

however, i was not prepared for the other night.

i had just gone to bed and was reading at about 11:30pm when i heard some noises outside, downstairs by the front door. the windows rattled a bit and i swear i heard someone test the door handle. the apartment where i live is in a compound which has a gate that is locked at 10pm. perhaps someone else in the compound was knocking about.

then i realised that there were sounds coming from above, on the roof. there is no way someone can be on the roof, i thought. from my bed, i look straight up through a large skylight and to the hillside and eucalyptus forest above. as i pondered what was happening, a man's face showed in the corner of the skylight and stared down right at me. since i had the light on, all i could see was his outline and was keenly aware that not only could he see me, but from his vantage point he could see the television, the dvd player and my laptop.

quickly i turned the light off to try and get a better look at his face. he peered in again but by then i had slipped to the other side of the room to try and get a better look at him. he turned and started crawling over the curved tiles of the roof, disappearing over a wall to a construction site next door.

unsurprisingly, i didn't sleep much that night. in the morning, i dragged my teacher back with me to tell the caretakers what had transpired as my spanish hasn't gotten much past 'un hombre. sobre techo. a las 11 y media de la noche.' they reckoned it was two or three guys working together, that they had scoped out the place since it has been empty for six weeks before my arrival and that since i looked right at one of them, they might leave it alone.

this sort of thing can happen anywhere in the world, so no point in freaking out. however, i will admit that i now have some pepper spray and a couple of large, empty beer bottles by the bed, just in case. and i'm very creative with where i stash my laptop!

city tour

2005-12-17T14:30:00.000-08:00

it had been suggested to me that i take a 'city tour' to learn a bit about the history of cusco - from its inca beginnings to the spanish takeover. usually i avoid organised tours at all costs, but in a city and country where i'll never be able to blend in simply because i'm tall and white, i figured it didn't really matter if i embraced the role of tourist for an afternoon.

the center of cusco is filled with tourist agencies offering trips to machu picchu, the jungle, the coast, lake titicaca, and more. navigating them successfully involves talking to locals and reading guide books or you risk being sucked in by the most persistent sales person lingering in the doorway. i ended up with a ticket that had me joining a tour in front of the catholic church on plaza las armas. well, i had a ticket, but i had to pay supplements everywhere we went and somehow, in typical sarah fashion, i managed to not have the very important 'boleto turistico' that you need to gain entrance to the sites situated around the city. i ended up having to buy it halfway through the day while the rest of the bus waited.

i found the catholic church mildly hilarious mainly due to the paintings which were done by the cusco school, peruvian artists who were sent to spain to learn how to paint human bodies in the european style with mixed results. body composition takes on interesting parameters and there are little hints of incan beliefs if you look closely. for example, at the last supper, the main dish is guinea pig, on its back on a platter with its feet sticking up in the air. if you're into catholic excess, the all-silver altar is impressive, but i can't help but think all that metal would have been truly stunning in its original form as siding along the incan temples to the moon and stars at qorikancha and other sites.

the bus climbed outside of cusco to the incan ruin of saqsaywaman ('sexy woman' is how the name is remembered by non-quechuan speaking tourists...). situated above the city, the sheer immensity of the structure with its three-tiered walls and impeccably fitted incan stonework was either a fortress or a place of worship, or both. supposedly cusco is shaped like a puma and saqsaywaman is the head. i found some stones arranged in a way that reminded me of a cat's footprint. these days, a huge festival for the sun is held on the grounds in the dry season (june).

at each site, you are accosted by locals selling alpaca goods, dolls, carved stone and wood figurines, picked herbs for altitude sickness, the ubiquitous postcards, etc. groups of women and children dressed in native attire pose with alpacas and baby sheep so tourists will photograph them in exchange for a few soles. this is the side of tourism that i loathe. the constant sell is relentless.

however, seeing the city from above and being in the presence of some impressive inca ruins made the trip a worthwhile afternoon.

café con leche

2005-12-11T12:27:00.000-08:00

not like i needed encouragement to wander around my new home but ambling through winding, steep streets is a great excuse to stop into various cafés. after being here for a week, i'm mostly acclimated to the altitude but still get breathless in just a few uphill steps - a strange feeling of being overheated and weak but not asthmatic.

the center of town is the plaza las armas, (one day i'll sit on the bench and wave like a maniac. maybe.) a lovely square where there always seems to be some sort of celebration or gathering occuring. at the moment, christmas lights in the forms of llamas and other more familiar shapes are being put up. often the local women gather here along the steps, dressed in their unique style of full skirts in muted tones to the knee, simple jackets and a swath of cloth woven from eye-popping colours in a series of lines and patterns slung over their backs, carrying all sorts of items - babies, plants, goods to sell, etc. the outfit is usually topped off by a bowler hat covering long black braids tied together at the tips. oftentimes the tiniest little old women are stooped over bearing enormous bundles wrapped up in the cloth.

i long to take some photographs of them but there is a time and place for everything, and that opportunity has not yet arisen. behind the huge catholic church in the plaza, narrow cobbled streets lead up to the san blas neighbourhood which is filled with shops selling art, jewelry and textiles, as well as numerous places to eat. in plazoleta san blas, the sun gets trapped in the afternoon and a great place to soak up the warmth is at the top of the square at the cafe muse.

as i settled in among the brightly coloured walls to read and enjoy my coffee, i was subjected to some sunburnt tourists' inane conversation: 'i didn't realise that the sun would be so strong.' 'yeah, i guess we're close to the equator.'

so my new ex-pat friends here in cusco tell me that the reason why it's hard to find good coffee here is because all the best stuff is exported. pick some up at the airport next time you're there, they say. i even brought my stovetop espresso maker with me from home but haven't used it yet - which is crazy for someone as fond of coffee as i.

however, discovering great places to sit, read, write, drink café con leche and eat one a sticky sweet pastries is definitely something that defines travel to me.

school

2005-12-10T16:53:00.000-08:00

a priority was to locate a spanish school and start classes. as i speak italian and french with some degree of success, i am hoping that a few months of immersion will elevate me to passable fluency. it will definitely make life easier in all directions and of course it opens up the possibility of traveling with ease to dozens of other countries.

studying spanish is a common pursuit of travelers to cusco so the choice of schools is extensive. since i'm here for five months, i'm going to be fickle and try out a few.

first is machu picchu school just off plaza las armas, the main square. set back in a courtyard typical of the style of colonial buildings in south america, the school gives group and individual classes. being the low season, i have enrolled in group classes and i'm the only one in them. like that. my teachers are both about a decade younger than me - i have erick for the first two hours and john for the second two. both are peruvian despite the anglo names and both can be quite cheeky. most sentence examples have to do with finding out about sarah's personal life.

by day two, i had convinced them that class taken outside in the café below (see picture) was a much more civilised way of doing things. that way, i can practice ordering café con leche and figure out the money (soles) at the same time.

i am looking forward to being able to enrich my experiences in peru by speaking the language. maybe i'll even pick up a few quechua words (the local indian language).

the house

2005-12-10T15:49:00.000-08:00

i had seen photos of the house before arriving so recognised it upon the approach. the taxi driver had kindly pointed out various cathedrals, markets and plazas in town as we drove past while i took in the street scenes. situated on calle saphi, the house is at the north (uphill) end of town.

it is sunny and lovely, lots of roughhewn wood and windows including a giant skylight that looks up to trees on the hill above - the perfect place to write, read, cook, study spanish, etc. and there is something different about swapping places with people that makes it all the more special.

cusco is almost 11,000 ft above sea level and i certainly felt it. head pounding, i got straight into the coca tea i found in the cupboard. it's weird, being so exhausted and out of whack that whole thoughts don't quite hang together. for example, i thought i should venture out to buy water and change some money but somehow rational thinking took over and made me go to bed before attempting to navigate peruvian banks.

a deep sleep was interrupted by the phone - clark checking in. how strange to be speaking to each other from opposite houses! he had explained everything i needed to know in writing, from paying bills to ordering propane for the stove, from how to navigate the shower to what new year's party i should attend. the landlords are juan and nancy and their three children, very nice family that speak no english. i must start lessons soon...

the shower perhaps needs a bit more description: you turn the water on - it is a fine spray, more of a fierce drip - with one knob. once the water is flowing, you reach up and flip a switch which applies an electrical current directly to the water above your head. to monitor the amount of hot versus cold, you ever-so-slightly tweak the water knob to adjust flow. you wash yourself. you do not reach up to touch the showerhead unless you want to be electrocuted. when done, you step out of the water flow, reach up while still wet to the electrical current switch to turn it off, THEN you turn off the water. i'll be amazed if i last five months of this without doing some damage to myself.

and it's good idea to do your bathing in the morning or early afternoon as cusco often turns its water supply off at night.

then there is the toilet. third world plumbing can't take paper. need i say more. luckily i've dealt with this when i lived in greece so it's not much of a stretch.

apart from that, i have to remember to turn the propane off after cooking or i'll gas myself. and plugging anything in is an adventure as the electrical isn't grounded. i've only blown up one lightbulb so far.

regardless, the vibe here is perfect - peaceful and inspirational. clark had left a nice little note on the whiteboard by the desk. he is enthusiastically fond of cusco and its surrounds which is contagious, and calle saphi is a perfect base from which to explore peru and beyond.

how and why peru

2005-12-10T13:37:00.000-08:00

traveling has always been an integral part of my existence – i'm addicted to the adventure and exploration of places new to me. not an unheard of sentiment but one that has allowed me to be open to some amazing opportunities. the latest chapter is cusco, peru.

this all started when i idly sat down at a computer terminal while working at a corporate event. the webpage up on the screen was craigslist.com and someone had been searching the 'house swapping' section. i've never been a user of craigslist, unlike some friends i have who conduct their entire lives - from buying to selling to dating - on the site. however, i read the ad that was on the screen: 'enjoy our lovely house in cusco for 6 months in exchange for your san francisco place.' and was intrigued enough to respond. i had never been to south america and if i can immerse myself in a place rather than just visit it, so much the better.

there ensued four months of back and forth, of actually meeting the couple whose house i'm now living in (clark and jacqui - delightful!) and eventually landing in south america for the first time in my life a month later than i had originally expected, due to work commitments.

i arrived in cusco on 1 december after a comfortable flight from the united states to lima and an exhausting, brief night in the peruvian capital of lima. everyone i had spoken to up to this point, including the well-to-do limeña sitting next to me on the plane, had told of how amazing the country is and in the same breath, how dangerous. so i had to admit i was feeling a bit anxious at the thought of spending the night in lima. landing in a new city late at night with more luggage than i can carry in one go is something i studiously avoid but this time it was inevitable.

did i also mention that i don't really speak spanish?

so it was with great relief that i saw my name on a sign being held up by one of clark's contacts, che, after 2.5 hours of immigration and customs control. making sure i'd locked the taxi door, he took me through broad, dark and empty streets to a small hotel in miraflores, an upscale neighbourhood in lima, where i checked into a basic room and lay down at 3am. three hours later, i was up again, waiting to be being picked up by che to go back to the airport and catch a flight to cusco, an hour away. on the way, early '80s pop music blasting from the radio, che took me past his house where he leant upon the horn to 'wake up his wife so she will get the kids to school,' and to point out his pit bull chained to the front porch. at least that was what i gathered as che and i couldn't communicate very well.

obviously i haven't seen much of lima but the sky is that same yellowy grey polluted mist that you often find over los angeles in winter, the streets are wide and filled with honking, swerving cars and trucks, most of them very dented and ancient (thankfully, speed is not the main concern), and most of the houses in the poorer areas don't have roofs. we drove along the coast where surfers floated in the steely and reputedly polluted ocean.

at the airport, i was accosted by possibly the worst smell i've ever encountered. a pall of rotten, oily, catfoody fishiness lay heavily over everything, the by-product of the fish processing plants i had seen from the air on landing. absolutely vile. it must have been the stench that confused the desk attendant and everyone else, because somehow i managed to check my bags, get through security, pay an airport tax and get all the way to the gate before noticing that my boarding pass had someone else's name on it.

however, all was fine and soon we were descending into cusco between impressive andean peaks, the morning sun brightening the terracotta roofs below.

i liked cusco from the moment i saw it.