Thursday, May 26, 2011

The Inca Trail

Our private tour bus drove smoothlessly down the roads that had caused us so much grief and entertainment on our hot springs adventure. Gliding through small Peruvian towns in our cylindrical white capsual that as safely protecting us from the outside world.This is all too easy I though to myself, is this really clasified as travelling at all?

The doubt I was feeling disolved into a feeling of sheer patheticness on the first day of hiking. We were applauded by the porters as we arrived to our lunch spot. The very same porters who had carried all of our bags, tents, kitchen equiptment, food etc and sped infront of us down the trail to ensure the lunch tent and food was ready for our arrival. I felt like I was cheating - eating a hot 2 course lunch on a table and chairs, especially after only a few hours of easy walking.

Arriving at our campsite that afternoon the impending guilt continued. We were given individual bowls of hot water to wash our hands in and were sent to pick out our pre-set up tents to freshen up before ´snack time´. The porters were always in good spirits, but I still felt like a princess being waited on hand and foot. Especially in the mornings when hot water and tea was brought to each of our tents to wake us up.  

The second day of the Inca trail is rightfully refered to as ´The Challenge´. The first 4 hour are straight up a valley leading to dead woman pass, at 4200m above sea level (we had started at 3000m that morning). I developed a rythym in my walking - walk for 30 seconds, rest for 5 - with longer breaks every 5-10minutes. Walking on my own I had to remind myself, just keep walking, one foot in front of the other. As I reached the top, I was cheered on by group members who had summited before me. A bittersweet feeling as you realise all these eyes are watching you and you can no longer stop.

At the top of the pass we rested, waiting for others to come into sight and cheering them on. After about an hour we began what was supposed to be a 1.5-2 hour walk back down the other side of the mountain range. I was so excited to get to the bottom I practically ran to the bottom. 45 minutes later I surprised myself and the porters by being the first to arrive at camp. To be perfectly honest, by the time we arrived at camp that second day I was more than happy for someone else to have taken care of my eating and sleeping arrangements for me.


With the afternoon free and muscles that needed some serious TLC I held an impromptu yoga class for whoever wanted to join in - our group leader Ozzie joined us in the hour of yoga - much to the amusement of the porters and the guys in our group.


Day 3 was an easy hike - after the first 2 hours. The group split and I found myself walking alone for most of the morning - only passing two or so people along the way. Walking alone, I felt like an explorer, discovering the path for myelf - instead of feeling like a worker ant, marching in a line, like on other parts of the trail. That afternoon Ozzie took us on two optional extra exploration hikes to some Inca ruins in the area. Only about 6 people came along so it felt way more intimate and fun instead of trudging away.


The last day Ozzie had us wake up at 3am. He was determined that we would be the first group at the front gate - which we were. We then has to sit at the front gate for 1.5 hours until it actually opened..... The hike to Machu Picchu was mostly easy. We sat at the sun gate as a group and watched the sun rise over the magnificent ancient city - which we were then let loose to explore.


Waiting for the train home I saw so many familiar faces. People I had never met but had crossed paths with so many times on the trail. These people who we had shared the highs and lows, blood and sweat of the Inca trail with. An unspoken bond that somehow connected all of us - seperating us from people who had simply taken the train there that morning. Nods and smiles were shared. We´d done it. Despite the porters and the royal treatment, we´d done it. We´d walked the Inca trail and no one could take it off us.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Hot springs - Warming the cockles

During our time on the Gypsy train we seemed to be on a fruitless mission for hot springs. This mission was so fruitless infact that Alex even wrote a blog about it, which can be read here: Hot Springs. So when a casual invitation came our way to join some people who work at our hostel on a hot springs adventure we jumped at the idea.

The next day, knowing nothing of where we were actually going or how long it would take to get there (except for vague (false) rumours of a 1hr bus ride, followed by a 3 hour hike), we met our companions for the journey. There were 8 of us all together, and the people we had met before we knew vaguely at best.

Excited, and severely underestimating how long it would take us to get there, we piled into 2 taxis and sped off to the bus station. From there we took a mini bus to Calca, about an hour away from Cuzco. This is where our first problem arose - there were no more busses headed to Lares that evening. Negotiations were made with taxi drivers until we found one that would rip us off the least. Desparate to get moving and not spend the night at the bus station we agreed to pay the extortionate rate of Sl. 250 (approximately $85) to get there, in a 5 seater car. With no other options the 9 of us, and all of our bags, piled in: Two in the boot with the bags, 5 in the back seat and one in the front with the driver. Once everyone was as comfortable as they were going to get, our 3 hour taxi ride began. We wound up and up and up a mountain road in the dark, sometimes acutely aware of the sharp drop off on one side of the road.

The tiny car which was obviously not designed for 9 people sat low to the ground and the never ending roadworks seemed to be working against us. A collective cringe was shared every time something scraped the bottom of the car, with each of us feeling each bump and scratch within our own bodies. At least 10 times during the trip we all had to pile out of the car so that the taxi could drive over gravel or water - or at one point so it could drive up a hill without all of us weighing it down.

At one point a policeman pulled us over ¨we´re screwed¨ BB and I thought, there is no way they´ll let us keep going. One officer took the taxi driver out of the car, the other stuck his head in the passenger window and had a conversation with the guys in Spanish that went something like the following:
            Hey where are you guys from? - Peru, USA, Argentina, Australia, Italy
            Where are you off to? - Lares BaƱo Thermales 
            How many of you are in the car? 8 
            (policeman laughs) Ok have fun
 The taxi driver gets back in the car and we drove off. Times like that really remind me that i´m not at home.
After 3 long and unconfortable but hillarious hours - that included being introduced to Nebus´ inner Russian (in Russia, first we have sex with the cow, then we kill it, then we eat it / in Russia we drink vodka and kill people) - we arrived at the hot springs, 5 minutes before they closed. We talked our way in - Yes sir we are all Peruvian - set up our tents and spent the night floating in hot water, drinking wine and staring at the stars. Bliss!
Early the next afternoon we reluctantly left as some of the group had to work that evening. We managed to take the last local bus of the day to Calca - which was ridiculously cheaper than our clown car taxi the night before, but equally as squishy as we had to share seats (Oh i sold your seats so now you 5 will have to stand). The bus took about 5 hours - including a one hour at a road block on a mountain for no apparent reason, and we still had another 1 hour bus ride from there.
Sleepy and already feeling like the benefits of soaking in hot water all night were erased by the jouney home we vowed that next time we would take Nibus´ truck and that we´d leave much earlier so we don´t spend as much time in transit as we do at the actual destination. 

The whole experience was hillarious and amazing. It always seems to be that the random adventure that find us are the most fun. Once again I am so happy about our casual travel style that allows us to jump on such adventures.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Gypsy Train - Last part of the journey from Mendoza to Salta

After a hugely deserved sleep following our re-introduction to mountaineering, we headed off in the direction of the Quilmes Ruins, Calchaqui Valley. The sun was shining and we were all not-so-secretly pleased that we did not have to wear our hiking boots and thus continue working on the blisters of doom we had procured on our hiking adventure.

The Quilmes were a pre-Incan civilisation and the site we visited is the biggest of its kind. This is about all the information we gained from the information brouchure they supplied us with as the rest of it was anti-Argentinian government propaganda. Regardless of the lack of information, the ruins were interesting to explore. It was also really great to go to an attraction that didn´t cost an arm and a leg to look around!

Here is a link to a dodgy wikipedia page about Quilmes http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quilmes_people





Quilmes Ruins


The next day we headed on up to Cafayate to drive through the spectacular red canyons. Very similar to the ones a previous national park had wanted to charge us a large amount of Pesos to drive though - except free and we could go at our own pace (not going to a national park for the win). The massive red rock formations were spectacular - with the added humour of all the names that had been allocated to them by Argentinians about what they are supposed to look like, our favorite was the toad. The two most amazing formations we thought were the natural amphitheatre and the devils throat. Both were massive holes that have formed in the rocky landscape due to wind and water. Both of them had people playing instruments in them as the acoustics were amazing.
Being toads infront of ´The Toad´
Red canyons - Cafayate



That night we found ourselves a campsite in the midst of this amazing natural wonderland and woke up the next day with the mountains glowing a fantastic red.

Our campsite in the red canyons (little white bit is the gypsy train)


The next few days were spent in Cafayate town, enjoying more wine tasting, meeting up with Jo - our friend who joined us from carnival and spray painting stencils onto the gypsy train. When considering wine tasting in Argentina, Mendoza is the area that springs to mind. Cafayate in Salta province however is sooo much better. As we were attemping to do tastings on Easter Sunday, only a few wineries were open. However the ones we went to were arguably much better than the wineries in Mendoza. The tastings were free, the wines we were able to try were of a decent quality (instead of the cheapest lines in Mendoza) and the staff were unjaded by Western tourism.
Cafayate

Emily with one of her stencils


Alaena and her stencil
Stencil by Bianca


Our last night on the gypsy train we spent on a lake just outside of Salta. More stencilling was done, goats cheese was eaten, wine and beer was drunk and we spent a reflective night sleeping cowboy style under the stars.

Stencil by me
Once in Salta we spent a few days all together, chilling out. I was lucky enough to celebrate my birthday with this great group of people i have come to know and adore getting massages, eating sushi and sharing drinks. At 4am Bianca and I said our goodbyes to the gypsy train crew and hopped on a bus to Lima, sad for goodbyes, but ready to start the next leg of our adventure.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Gypsy Train - More adenture between Mendoza & Salta

Just outside of San Juan there is a monument/hill for Difunta Correa. Our first encounter with Difunta Correa had been slightly disturbing. We were driving from BA to Mendoza (our first leg of the gypsy train) and had pulled into a service station. There was a small building with a sign outside baring the words `Difunta Correa' accompanied by a picture of a dead woman with a baby breastfeeding on her. We left feeling slightly disturbed and highly confused.

On this leg of our gypsy train journey we discovered that Difunta Correa was actually a woman who had been walking through the desert to help her sick husband, but had died on the journey after her supplies had run out. She was found dead several days later, but her child was found alive, feeding from her breast (more info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Difunta_Correa). We found all this out as a few days into our drive we stopped at the site that she has supposedly come to rest. We were expecting a smallish shrine, possibly surrounded by some plastic bottles filled with water (to quench her thirst during her journey). None of us expected the mountainous shrine we came across, ordained with mini shrines saying `Gracias Difunta Correa`, peoples number plates and random car parts. The hill was stacked with hoards of people who had made the pilgrimage to pay respects and thanks to Correa and stroke her semi-clad, breast feeding statue. I´m not going to lie, the whole thing kinda weirded us out. However, we made sure to buy a `Gracias Difunta Correa para protecta mi moto` ribbon to tie on the bus, just in case.

The next few days of our gypsy train adventures led us to Parque Provincial Ischigualasto (http://www.ischigualasto.org/) a national park in Valle de la Luna (moon valley) - so called because of its hectic moon-like landscape. Some of the oldest dinosaur fossils have been found in this park and were available for display in a tiny museum on the property. Of course with us being in Argentina where doing stuff revolving around exercise is unheard of - refer to rant further down - the only way to view the park was to to a guided driving tour where they stop you at designated picture points along the way and give us lots of information that we don´t understand (due to not speaking spanish). The landscape was very beautiful and is definitely a must see if you´re in the area.

During our time on the gypsy train we have come to two conclusions about people from Argentina.
1) They don´t do outdoors well
and 2) they have a weird obsession with light.

Over the last few weeks we have visited many national parks. The majority of which will have driving tours as their main attraction, or a bus shuttling you to the designated photograph points within the park. To do hiking, you HAVE to have a guide, and it`s highly expensive. We decided not to pay for a tour and go hiking up some mountains by ourselves in Tafi del Valle. We enquired about hiking options at the tourist office - where the bemused man said to us...`But you´ll have to walk quite a lot`... I think somehow they miss the point of hiking.

To further back up point one is pont 2. Argentinians have a weird obsession with lights, especially in regards to camping. When enquiring if it is ok if we camp for the night in a park or other public space we often were told, `Oh, its ok, but there isn´t any lights there, and it will be dark soon`. This is especially funny when we`re looking to camp on the side of the road. It seems trivial but its hilarious how much it happens.

The guy at the tourism office wasn´t lying when he said wd have to walk quite a lot. We`re not sure if we climbed the mountain we`d asked about, as most directions we received seem to be dodgy at best - as if people would rather give us wrong directions rather than none at all. Regardless we found ourselves at the bottom of a sting of mountains, all of which were pretty much straight up, and none had a trail. After surveying the area, we decided which mountain looked the least suicidal and began our ascent. When we got to what we thought was the top, we discovered the peak was at least another 30 minutes hike - or so we thought. This deceptive mountain business continued for the next 2.5 hours, every time we`d reach a goal, a higher peak would come into sight.

All in all our `leisurely` mountain hike took us 4 hours up and 2.5 hours down. On the decent we were racing the clouds, that were rolling in around us. It was very beautiful to watch, but it also made it very hard to remember how to get back to the bus.

At the bottom we all collapsed into the bus while Alex drove us to the camp site. I don`t think any of us have been so happy for a hot shower.