Thursday, April 30, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Day 293 - Arequipa, Perú
The bus journey to Cusco was horrible, it started by being an hour late and then crawled along through some very unsavoury districts, picking up various dodgy looking characters on the way. I'm sure everything was perfectly safe but all advice recieved says not to travel on these buses at night and it was getting darker by the minute. As we approached Cusco at around midnight, I heard someone 'Psssssting' me and asking me something in Spanish that I didn't at first understand, but once I'd got my brain into gear I realised he was just asking if we wanted to stay at his hotel. This was the shape of things to come in Cusco, you can't walk down the road for more than 20m without being asked if you want to buy something, take a tour somewhere or have a massage. I soon became sick of my own voice everytime I politely said 'no gracias'. I got less and less polite as the week wore on.
Having said all that I really fell in love with Cusco pretty quickly. After being driven through some pretty awful Peruvian towns on the way it was a lovely surprise to see how well maintained and pretty Cusco is. The whole city sprawls out between various mountains and the buildings have a very Meditteranean look to them with their terracotta pan-tiled roofs and narrow balconies overlooking the various plazas around town.
There's loads to do here too if you have plenty of time and money as it is more expensive than I though it would be. I went into the cathedral on our first day here and was blown away by it. It is stunning. Rich waited outside as he'd seen it last time he was here and didn't want to pay another 25 Soles to get in. It is actually three churches next to one another but all knocked through to create three distinctly different spaces under the same roof. Everywhere was choc-full of religious art which was extremely blingy, but my favourite was the huge rendition of The Last Supper painted by a Peruvian artist. Instead of the Paschal Lamb adorning the table of Señor Jesus and his disciples, there was a roasted guinea pig lying on a silver platter with it's little crispy feet sticking up in the air presumably pointing to heaven. So Peruvian!
There is a lot of dodgy currency circulating around Perú so we had to be pretty careful when accepting change from people, making sure we closely check each note. In another church on The Plaza de las Armes we paid our entrance fee and the bloke behind the counter tried passing a fake note onto us as part of our change! He knew damn well, too as he just laughed and glanced sideways to his frizzy-haired counterpart in the booth with him. This from the Catholic church, too!!
Seeing the holy cooked guinea pig earlier in the day must've struck an adventurous chord with me. That evening I decided to try the local delicacy for myself, thinking that it would be served jointed like a rabbit and dressed up a little. How wrong I was. It was basically the whole side of one of the little animals, complete with head and huge teeth, roasted and plated up with a couple of potatoes and stuffed chillis. It was gruesome. The skin was like a charred rubber chicken and I couldn't even cut it with the steak knife provided. I was told that the easiest way to eat it is to pick the thing up and tear chunks off with my teeth. In order to do this I had to rip off the head so I didn't skewer my cheek on it's spiteful rodent incisors. It tasted pretty awful too, it was cooked with 'special traditional herbs' that tasted more like week old grass clippings. I wish I hadn't been so adventurous and I think Rich did too as he couldn't finish his steak and had a decidely queasy grimmace adorning his face.
We went to Machu Picchu the next day by train which was a four hour journey from Cusco including the transfers either side of the three hour train ride. It was worth it though. The whole site is breathtaking; as you wander around these ancient ruins with huge, tree covered mountains surrounding the whole site you really get a good impression of how the town was at the height of it's occupation. The craftsmanship of the buildings is staggering and it is mind-boggling to imagine how they dragged the huge building blocks around high up on the side of a mountain. Each massive boulder was polished with crushed granite to give a perfect finish and each one in turn fits perfectly to the next one. The way they used the sun and the moon as solar calendars was also very ingenious.
We spent the day after Machu Picchu wandering around town trying to make use of out Boletos Turisticos or Tourist Tickets. These things cost about 23 quid each and last for ten days giving you access to various sites in and around Cusco. It would be quite good value if you could visit all the sites but they're so spaced out you'd have to be a pretty efficient sight-seer to manage them all while the ticket is still valid. Before we did anything though we trapsed around the numerous so-called 'English' establishments looking for a proper English breakfast. We were both sick to death of starting the day with jam and bread and hankered after something a little more substantial. Our search was proving pretty futile though because although these places made bold claims about serving a traditional English brekkie, most of them didn't open until 12:00. Useless. We eventually found our sausage and bacon salvation at a place called The Cross Keys, though we were the only punters in there and I wasn't convinced the two confused looking woman had any idea what constitutes a full English breakfast. They proved us wrong though and delivered the said eggs, bacon (sort of), sausage (singular), mushrooms, beans and toast. It was actually pretty good too and set us up until our evening meal. After breaking fast, we made it to Saqsaywamán (pronounced Sexy Woman) and Qenqo (pronounced Kenco) but much of the two sites was roped off so you couldn't actually see the most interesting bits. Very annoying.
That evening we went back to The Cross Keys for dinner. I opted for a chicken curry (no surprise there!) and it was just like one of those Vesta affairs from the 70s, complete with shrivelled sultanas. Rich chose a chilli con carne and when faced with a choice of chips, rice or tortilla chips he laughingly said to the waitress 'tortillas, as long it's not just a bag of Doritos from behind the bar'. Guess what? He got a bag of Doritos from behind the bar and a very soupy looking bowl of meat of dubious origin. The food in this town lets it down somewhat.
We were booked on a tour to the mysterious sounding Sacred Valley the next day. At last, we had the opportunity to use more of our Boletos Turisticos. The first stop was a photo opportunity with some very obliging alpacas and a trio of traditionally dressed locals. It looked like grandmother, mother and daughter taking the herd to market but made a nice picture. Second stop was Pisac, another set of Inca ruins set high up on a mountain. Clearly our guide couldn't be bothered to take us to the top to see the most interesting part, claiming that we wouldn't have time. Shame as there would have been great view. After a stop at the market, where the guide seemed to know most of the traders, we headed towards the middle of nowhere where we were unceremoniously dumped off the bus to obtain lunch. Luckily we'd taken our own as we know what these tours are like, but the others staggered out of the only restaurant in town at the thought of paying $25 and went without. One Argentinean bloke survived on a bit of old sugar cane he found in his bag.
After lunch we went to Ollantaytambo which is yet another set of Inca ruins. This one was very impressive though, especially the head carved into the side of a mountain where, on the summer solstice, the sun is in exactly the right position to light up his nose.
We thought we'd try another restaurant that evening, in fact one of the girls on our tour recommended it to us. We placed our order and after some considerable time Rich's food came. I'd ordered an Alpaca kebab but the bloke decided to bring me a trout kebab instead. After telling him it wasn't what I'd ordered he went downstairs to the kitchen, trout in hand, and I heard a bit of a to-do between him and the chef. Five minutes later he returned the skewered trout to me and assured me it was alpaca. I tasted it. Definitely trout. Down it went again, back to the kitchen and 20 minutes later I had an alpaca kebab. Rich, of course, had finished his food by this time so it was yet another disjointed meal - just like all those we had in Asia.
Now we're in Arequipa and have only one week left of our grand tour. We'll be home on May 1st and I can't wait. Some things I'm looking forward to are:
• Being able to flush used toilet paper.
• Pubs.
• Walking down a street full of finished buildings.
• Not having to say 'No thank you' every five minutes to hawkers.
• Not living out of a rucksack.
• Not worrying after every meal that you'll end up with a dodgy tummy.
The list goes on, but I'll spare you.
Having said all that I really fell in love with Cusco pretty quickly. After being driven through some pretty awful Peruvian towns on the way it was a lovely surprise to see how well maintained and pretty Cusco is. The whole city sprawls out between various mountains and the buildings have a very Meditteranean look to them with their terracotta pan-tiled roofs and narrow balconies overlooking the various plazas around town.
There's loads to do here too if you have plenty of time and money as it is more expensive than I though it would be. I went into the cathedral on our first day here and was blown away by it. It is stunning. Rich waited outside as he'd seen it last time he was here and didn't want to pay another 25 Soles to get in. It is actually three churches next to one another but all knocked through to create three distinctly different spaces under the same roof. Everywhere was choc-full of religious art which was extremely blingy, but my favourite was the huge rendition of The Last Supper painted by a Peruvian artist. Instead of the Paschal Lamb adorning the table of Señor Jesus and his disciples, there was a roasted guinea pig lying on a silver platter with it's little crispy feet sticking up in the air presumably pointing to heaven. So Peruvian!
There is a lot of dodgy currency circulating around Perú so we had to be pretty careful when accepting change from people, making sure we closely check each note. In another church on The Plaza de las Armes we paid our entrance fee and the bloke behind the counter tried passing a fake note onto us as part of our change! He knew damn well, too as he just laughed and glanced sideways to his frizzy-haired counterpart in the booth with him. This from the Catholic church, too!!
Seeing the holy cooked guinea pig earlier in the day must've struck an adventurous chord with me. That evening I decided to try the local delicacy for myself, thinking that it would be served jointed like a rabbit and dressed up a little. How wrong I was. It was basically the whole side of one of the little animals, complete with head and huge teeth, roasted and plated up with a couple of potatoes and stuffed chillis. It was gruesome. The skin was like a charred rubber chicken and I couldn't even cut it with the steak knife provided. I was told that the easiest way to eat it is to pick the thing up and tear chunks off with my teeth. In order to do this I had to rip off the head so I didn't skewer my cheek on it's spiteful rodent incisors. It tasted pretty awful too, it was cooked with 'special traditional herbs' that tasted more like week old grass clippings. I wish I hadn't been so adventurous and I think Rich did too as he couldn't finish his steak and had a decidely queasy grimmace adorning his face.
We went to Machu Picchu the next day by train which was a four hour journey from Cusco including the transfers either side of the three hour train ride. It was worth it though. The whole site is breathtaking; as you wander around these ancient ruins with huge, tree covered mountains surrounding the whole site you really get a good impression of how the town was at the height of it's occupation. The craftsmanship of the buildings is staggering and it is mind-boggling to imagine how they dragged the huge building blocks around high up on the side of a mountain. Each massive boulder was polished with crushed granite to give a perfect finish and each one in turn fits perfectly to the next one. The way they used the sun and the moon as solar calendars was also very ingenious.
We spent the day after Machu Picchu wandering around town trying to make use of out Boletos Turisticos or Tourist Tickets. These things cost about 23 quid each and last for ten days giving you access to various sites in and around Cusco. It would be quite good value if you could visit all the sites but they're so spaced out you'd have to be a pretty efficient sight-seer to manage them all while the ticket is still valid. Before we did anything though we trapsed around the numerous so-called 'English' establishments looking for a proper English breakfast. We were both sick to death of starting the day with jam and bread and hankered after something a little more substantial. Our search was proving pretty futile though because although these places made bold claims about serving a traditional English brekkie, most of them didn't open until 12:00. Useless. We eventually found our sausage and bacon salvation at a place called The Cross Keys, though we were the only punters in there and I wasn't convinced the two confused looking woman had any idea what constitutes a full English breakfast. They proved us wrong though and delivered the said eggs, bacon (sort of), sausage (singular), mushrooms, beans and toast. It was actually pretty good too and set us up until our evening meal. After breaking fast, we made it to Saqsaywamán (pronounced Sexy Woman) and Qenqo (pronounced Kenco) but much of the two sites was roped off so you couldn't actually see the most interesting bits. Very annoying.
That evening we went back to The Cross Keys for dinner. I opted for a chicken curry (no surprise there!) and it was just like one of those Vesta affairs from the 70s, complete with shrivelled sultanas. Rich chose a chilli con carne and when faced with a choice of chips, rice or tortilla chips he laughingly said to the waitress 'tortillas, as long it's not just a bag of Doritos from behind the bar'. Guess what? He got a bag of Doritos from behind the bar and a very soupy looking bowl of meat of dubious origin. The food in this town lets it down somewhat.
We were booked on a tour to the mysterious sounding Sacred Valley the next day. At last, we had the opportunity to use more of our Boletos Turisticos. The first stop was a photo opportunity with some very obliging alpacas and a trio of traditionally dressed locals. It looked like grandmother, mother and daughter taking the herd to market but made a nice picture. Second stop was Pisac, another set of Inca ruins set high up on a mountain. Clearly our guide couldn't be bothered to take us to the top to see the most interesting part, claiming that we wouldn't have time. Shame as there would have been great view. After a stop at the market, where the guide seemed to know most of the traders, we headed towards the middle of nowhere where we were unceremoniously dumped off the bus to obtain lunch. Luckily we'd taken our own as we know what these tours are like, but the others staggered out of the only restaurant in town at the thought of paying $25 and went without. One Argentinean bloke survived on a bit of old sugar cane he found in his bag.
After lunch we went to Ollantaytambo which is yet another set of Inca ruins. This one was very impressive though, especially the head carved into the side of a mountain where, on the summer solstice, the sun is in exactly the right position to light up his nose.
We thought we'd try another restaurant that evening, in fact one of the girls on our tour recommended it to us. We placed our order and after some considerable time Rich's food came. I'd ordered an Alpaca kebab but the bloke decided to bring me a trout kebab instead. After telling him it wasn't what I'd ordered he went downstairs to the kitchen, trout in hand, and I heard a bit of a to-do between him and the chef. Five minutes later he returned the skewered trout to me and assured me it was alpaca. I tasted it. Definitely trout. Down it went again, back to the kitchen and 20 minutes later I had an alpaca kebab. Rich, of course, had finished his food by this time so it was yet another disjointed meal - just like all those we had in Asia.
Now we're in Arequipa and have only one week left of our grand tour. We'll be home on May 1st and I can't wait. Some things I'm looking forward to are:
• Being able to flush used toilet paper.
• Pubs.
• Walking down a street full of finished buildings.
• Not having to say 'No thank you' every five minutes to hawkers.
• Not living out of a rucksack.
• Not worrying after every meal that you'll end up with a dodgy tummy.
The list goes on, but I'll spare you.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Day 288 - Copacabana, Bolivia
We survived the three day trip from Chile to Bolivia and it was a brilliant experience bumping up and down in a knackered old 4x4 with six other people. Together with Rich and me we had a French couple, an Italian, an American and the Bolivian driver. Brian, the American, turned out to be a really nice bloke. He's one of those people that is always smiling and who's glass always seems to be half full (to coin a cliché), unlike many of the other self-opinionated and over-confident Americans that we've met.
We saw loads of stuff on day one including Laguna Verde and Laguna Blanca. The first night of the trip we were staying in a refuge in the middle of nowhere and it was very basic. I had visions of Tibet and the 40 watt lightbulb all over again but it was marginally better than that. There were no showers or hot water but I think the fact that six of us were sharing a room heated the place up sufficiently to sleep comfortably. It was quite cosy in a prisony sort of way. The only thing that let it down was when the frost on the roof melted at sunrise and started dripping on my bed, creating an embarrassing damp patch.
Day two took us to Laguna Colorada which is a huge lake with water the colour of terracotta and huge flocks of pink flamingoes tip-toeing around looking for the occasional shrimp. Being early morning, the sunlight was stunning and really showed the scenery off to it's best. Further on into the journey we saw more smaller lakes and then came across a place called Arbol de Piedra (tree of stone) which is a collection of gigantic boulders in the middle of the desert. One of them is almost completely eroded around it's base making it look a bit like a big tree if you use your imagination and squint a lot. That night we stayed in a salt hotel which, not surprisingly, is a hotel built out of bricks made from salt. Instead of carpet the entire floor is covered in a thick layer of salt crystals which gave the impression of crunching through snow. Luckily we had fantastic showers here so we could freshen up from the last couple of days.
The highlight of the trip was when we reached the salt pan, or Salar. In every direction all you could see was startling white salt on the ground and perfectly blue sky. The sunshine was scalding and you couldn't remove your sunglasses without your eyes feeling like they were cooking. Because of the featureless views, we took the opportunity to take some silly photos. Rich got a good one of me looking like I'm being squished between his thumb and finger. How original...
We arrived in Uyuni on Easter Sunday to find that there were no buses out of town to La Paz so we had to stay the night. We managed to find a decent hotel and had a lovely comfy night before spending the next day wandering around Uyuni looking for things to do. It was a fruitless search as there is absolutely nothing there worth seeing - even the museum couldn't be bothered to open.
To kill some time we went for a pizza in the hotel where we were staying, I opted for spicy llama as it's not something you usually see in Domino's. We caught our bus at 8pm and I was surprised how comfortable it was. At least it was until some Israeli bloke fell asleep next to me and rested his smelly, hairy head on my shoulders for most of the eleven hour journey. What made it worse was that the road was terrible so his head was jumping all over the place and bruising my shoulder in the process. I've no idea how he managed to sleep through it but the only time he woke was when I asked him to vacate my shoulder. It didn't last long though and he was soon bobbing up and down again.
La Paz was a bit of a disappointment for me really. I knew it was going to be a big city but I had no idea how busy it would be and the traffic was choking. Being the highest capital in the world you can imagine that it's quite hilly walking around. This wouldn't be too much of a problem usually but as it is over 3,500m above sea level the air is quite thin so any sort of physical exertion just leaves you breathless. We booked a good day trip while there to a place called
Tihuanaca which was a short drive outside of La Paz. It's a pre-incan site with fascinating structures that were used as solar and lunar calendars. Like many of these sights they rely a lot on your imagination to picture the entire layout but it was impressive nonetheless, especially the hole gouged out of a big stone that allowed voices to be amplified to a crowd or to listen in on the faintest whisper.
On the last two nights there we couldn't be bothered to go out looking for somewhere to eat so we stayed in the hotel restaurant. The food was pretty decent and on the last night we were served by a waiter I hadn't seen before. He took our order and shortly afterwards bought me something completely different. I told him it wasn't what I'd ordered and he shuffled off, looking very upset and confused, to explain to the chef what my order should've been. A few minutes later the same waiter let out an almighty groan and collapsed on the floor in a convulsive fit. I felt terrible as the other waiters grabbed hold of him and dragged him down to reception where he laid for the rest of our meal. Poor thing, I hope he's ok.
We left La Paz the next day by bus and arrived in Copacabana a few hours later. It's a small town full of ramshackle, unfinished houses nestling on the shore of Lake Titicaca between two mountains. It could be really beautiful if only the locals would finish building their houses before moving in and they got rid of the bright yellow peddalos shaped like nightmarish ducks. We booked a boat trip for day two to Isla del Sol (Sun Island) where supposedly the sun and the moon were born according to local belief. We were dropped off on the north of the island and took a good four and a half hour walk to the south where the boat returned us to Copacabana. What they didn't tell us before booking the trip was that there would be a steady stream of locals dotted along the route trying to get us to buy tickets to enter their little areas. It was a right racket, despite being only five bolivianos or about 50p a ticket. It was the principal. I had visions of returning in a few years time to find them all decked out in Versace and trading their llamas in for Toyota Land Cruisers.
We're leaving Copacanana today and heading to Cusco by bus. It'll be great to see Machu Picchu, though I'll be glad when it's all over as I hate being at this altitude. It's quite a strange feeling that the trip is coming to an end and that we'll be home in less that two weeks. I'm already thinking about the work I'll need to do in the garden...
We saw loads of stuff on day one including Laguna Verde and Laguna Blanca. The first night of the trip we were staying in a refuge in the middle of nowhere and it was very basic. I had visions of Tibet and the 40 watt lightbulb all over again but it was marginally better than that. There were no showers or hot water but I think the fact that six of us were sharing a room heated the place up sufficiently to sleep comfortably. It was quite cosy in a prisony sort of way. The only thing that let it down was when the frost on the roof melted at sunrise and started dripping on my bed, creating an embarrassing damp patch.
Day two took us to Laguna Colorada which is a huge lake with water the colour of terracotta and huge flocks of pink flamingoes tip-toeing around looking for the occasional shrimp. Being early morning, the sunlight was stunning and really showed the scenery off to it's best. Further on into the journey we saw more smaller lakes and then came across a place called Arbol de Piedra (tree of stone) which is a collection of gigantic boulders in the middle of the desert. One of them is almost completely eroded around it's base making it look a bit like a big tree if you use your imagination and squint a lot. That night we stayed in a salt hotel which, not surprisingly, is a hotel built out of bricks made from salt. Instead of carpet the entire floor is covered in a thick layer of salt crystals which gave the impression of crunching through snow. Luckily we had fantastic showers here so we could freshen up from the last couple of days.
The highlight of the trip was when we reached the salt pan, or Salar. In every direction all you could see was startling white salt on the ground and perfectly blue sky. The sunshine was scalding and you couldn't remove your sunglasses without your eyes feeling like they were cooking. Because of the featureless views, we took the opportunity to take some silly photos. Rich got a good one of me looking like I'm being squished between his thumb and finger. How original...
We arrived in Uyuni on Easter Sunday to find that there were no buses out of town to La Paz so we had to stay the night. We managed to find a decent hotel and had a lovely comfy night before spending the next day wandering around Uyuni looking for things to do. It was a fruitless search as there is absolutely nothing there worth seeing - even the museum couldn't be bothered to open.
To kill some time we went for a pizza in the hotel where we were staying, I opted for spicy llama as it's not something you usually see in Domino's. We caught our bus at 8pm and I was surprised how comfortable it was. At least it was until some Israeli bloke fell asleep next to me and rested his smelly, hairy head on my shoulders for most of the eleven hour journey. What made it worse was that the road was terrible so his head was jumping all over the place and bruising my shoulder in the process. I've no idea how he managed to sleep through it but the only time he woke was when I asked him to vacate my shoulder. It didn't last long though and he was soon bobbing up and down again.
La Paz was a bit of a disappointment for me really. I knew it was going to be a big city but I had no idea how busy it would be and the traffic was choking. Being the highest capital in the world you can imagine that it's quite hilly walking around. This wouldn't be too much of a problem usually but as it is over 3,500m above sea level the air is quite thin so any sort of physical exertion just leaves you breathless. We booked a good day trip while there to a place called
Tihuanaca which was a short drive outside of La Paz. It's a pre-incan site with fascinating structures that were used as solar and lunar calendars. Like many of these sights they rely a lot on your imagination to picture the entire layout but it was impressive nonetheless, especially the hole gouged out of a big stone that allowed voices to be amplified to a crowd or to listen in on the faintest whisper.
On the last two nights there we couldn't be bothered to go out looking for somewhere to eat so we stayed in the hotel restaurant. The food was pretty decent and on the last night we were served by a waiter I hadn't seen before. He took our order and shortly afterwards bought me something completely different. I told him it wasn't what I'd ordered and he shuffled off, looking very upset and confused, to explain to the chef what my order should've been. A few minutes later the same waiter let out an almighty groan and collapsed on the floor in a convulsive fit. I felt terrible as the other waiters grabbed hold of him and dragged him down to reception where he laid for the rest of our meal. Poor thing, I hope he's ok.
We left La Paz the next day by bus and arrived in Copacabana a few hours later. It's a small town full of ramshackle, unfinished houses nestling on the shore of Lake Titicaca between two mountains. It could be really beautiful if only the locals would finish building their houses before moving in and they got rid of the bright yellow peddalos shaped like nightmarish ducks. We booked a boat trip for day two to Isla del Sol (Sun Island) where supposedly the sun and the moon were born according to local belief. We were dropped off on the north of the island and took a good four and a half hour walk to the south where the boat returned us to Copacabana. What they didn't tell us before booking the trip was that there would be a steady stream of locals dotted along the route trying to get us to buy tickets to enter their little areas. It was a right racket, despite being only five bolivianos or about 50p a ticket. It was the principal. I had visions of returning in a few years time to find them all decked out in Versace and trading their llamas in for Toyota Land Cruisers.
We're leaving Copacanana today and heading to Cusco by bus. It'll be great to see Machu Picchu, though I'll be glad when it's all over as I hate being at this altitude. It's quite a strange feeling that the trip is coming to an end and that we'll be home in less that two weeks. I'm already thinking about the work I'll need to do in the garden...
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Day 278 - San Pedro de Atacama, Chile
Mendoza turned out to be a bit of a gem. When we first arrived I was a little put off by its initial appearance as it isn't the prettiest place in Argentina but after walking around the place for an afternoon it sort of grows on you. The first thing we did was to go and sit in the park with some bread, cheese, chorizo and a bottle of wine that Rich won in a bingo game on the bus. What a great way to pass a couple of hours, it really felt like a holiday again rather than just ticking places off of a list.
After more walking we found a shop that made ice cream from the locally produced wine and indulged ourselves. Big Style! It took us about forty minutes to work our way through the big tub of ice cream and it was great just sitting around in the cool shade and watching the world go by.
The following day we took a bus to Maípu where we hired a couple of dodgy bikes and cycled around the vineyards, olive oil producers and a chocolate factory. Of course, there was some serious tasting involved which made the 24Km round trip a little more interesting, especially when two of the spokes popped out of my bike's front wheel and threatened to throw me headlong over the handlebars. Getting back to Mendoza city centre however was a nightmare as we had no change for the bus ticket machine and it's virtually impossible to get any from anywhere. After asking about half a dozen people I eventually got some from a woman running a small winebar. She clearly found my inept Spanish and gushing gratitude funny by the way she was babbling away hysterically and didn't stop until I'd left the bar.
We left Mendoza early the next day and made our way to Valparaiso in Chile. Again, the bus was good but it was only a short journey of about eight hours. Crossing the border between Argentina and Chile was a painless affair, only marred slightly by being asked for a tip by the customs handlers. The cheek of it!
Valparaiso is an odd little city, split into two distinct halves. The lower section, at sea-level, is called "El Plan" while the rest of it, and most interesting part, stretches up along the hills around the bay. It's a strange collection of little buildings, painted bright colours and often perched precariously on stilts on the side of the hills. There is graffiti everywhere but it's not the naff, amateur pseudo-political crap you often see around some other cities; some of this is really quite good and cheers up the place in a really unusual way. The view of the sea is brilliant from up in the hills and just slightly let down by the cobweb of phone and electricity cables that seemingly connect all the buildings together. The place reminded me a lot of St. Ives in Cornwall but on a much bigger scale and a lot more run down. It has a definite feeling if faded glamour and somewhat of a tarnished reputation because of the number of tourists that are mugged there every year. Luckily we didn't experience that thrill.
We stepped into a cafe one evening and decided to try the popular local dish called Chorillana. It sounds fairly exotic with it's Chilean name but is in fact just a massive plate of chips topped with fried eggs, fried onion, fried pork and cheese. It is cardiac failure on a plate but is excellent when served with a couple of ice cold beers.
Another evening, after a city walk, we stepped into a bar for some refreshment and ended up staying far longer than we imagined mainly due to the great 80's British music they were playing. We only had about five beers but I made the mistake of being persuaded to sample the barmaid's special cocktail. She wouldn't tell me what was in it but I'm guessing toilet-duck and lemonade as I was as sick as a dog for the next two days and could hardly manage to keep anything down for more than three minutes. A great way to lose a bit of weight but a bit drastic. She seemed a bit upset when we left the bar, chasing after us and asking why we were leaving so soon. It's lucky we did otherwise she may have been mopping the floor a bit more than usual that evening.
During my marathon hangover we took a walk into Viña del Mar which is only a few kilometres from Valparaiso. It was a nice walk along the coast, especially seeing the sea-lions hanging around the pier by the fish market for a few scraps. It was a bit more upmarket than 'Valp' but only just.
We are now in San Pedro de Atacama which was a 25 hour bus journey from Valparaiso and only just tolerable. Thank heaven's for those reclining seats and a dose of immodium. We arrived here at about 23:30 in the pitch black but were still greeted by touts trying to get us to stay in their hostels. We'd pre-booked one though so made our way there trying to look like we knew where we were going and not to attract attention. The map we had though was rubbish so we ended up walking around in circles and had to ask someone in the end.
We've done a few trips while we were here, the first one of which was to Valle de la Luna or Valley of the Moon. It really does look like the moon because it is so desolate and dusty, really interesting though. On our bus was a group of about six blonde twenty-somethings whose collective voices were high enough to shatter glass. The only superlative that they new was 'Amaaaaaazing', and so everything they saw would be described thus. An older Australian bloke on the bus with hair dyed jet-black and a dolly bird from Santiago would translate what the driver was telling us (as best he could). He also made an attempt at translating the Spanish descriptions in the museum but I could've done a better job myself. Not that this bothered the gaggle of giggling girls, he could've told them anything and I'm sure they would have still told him what an 'amaaaaaazing' job he was doing. As they were flocked and chattered on the back seat of the bus, they started slagging off one of their 'friends' who happened to not be on this particular trip with them and they were horrified at the fact that she 'got off with someone who was about forty'. Being my 40th birthday today I couldn't help but laugh as I realised what a relic I must have appeared to them.
We were up early yesterday at 03:00 in the morning as we had a sunrise trip to go and see the Tatio Geysers which are the highest thermal vents in the world (apparently). These things were great though, especially in the morning when it was so cold as the difference between the air temperature and the hot water gushing out of the vents made them really spectacular. They are at about 4200m above sea level (nearly 13000 feet) so the water actually boils at around 85 degrees. Some of the tour companies were boiling eggs in the hot springs to give to their guests for breakfast and at first I was a little put out that ours didn't. I was glad in the end because he told us that because the water isn't at 100 degrees it doesn't kill the salmonella in the eggs and bacteria from the water can leach into the egg through the shells. Apparently, some people have been quite ill.
One of the other great things there are the thermal springs and we went for a swim in the lovely hot water. Just before that though the guide recommended that we stay about 2m from the edges as the ground is quite thin there. Some people have been boiled alive where the crust has come away and scalding water has cooked them while they swim. Nice!
We leave Chile tomorrow after having been here just over a week. We're heading off to Bolivia on a three day trek by car and staying in some sort of salt hotel at some point which will be an experience. It gets really cold at night in the desert so we're going to have to dig out our thermals and coats again. I'm hoping that Bolivia will be cheaper too as Chile and Argentina have been so expensive up until now. Rich makes a point of saying (in his usual loud voice) how expensive everything on the menus is whenever we go into a restaurant. It's starting to get on my nerves a bit now as it's no longer a surprise and we just need to accept it if that's the going rate. There's nothing the waiter can do about the pound being so weak at the moment.
Not sure when I'll get a chance to write another entry as Bolivia is going to be a little less advanced than Chile. Bye for now...
After more walking we found a shop that made ice cream from the locally produced wine and indulged ourselves. Big Style! It took us about forty minutes to work our way through the big tub of ice cream and it was great just sitting around in the cool shade and watching the world go by.
The following day we took a bus to Maípu where we hired a couple of dodgy bikes and cycled around the vineyards, olive oil producers and a chocolate factory. Of course, there was some serious tasting involved which made the 24Km round trip a little more interesting, especially when two of the spokes popped out of my bike's front wheel and threatened to throw me headlong over the handlebars. Getting back to Mendoza city centre however was a nightmare as we had no change for the bus ticket machine and it's virtually impossible to get any from anywhere. After asking about half a dozen people I eventually got some from a woman running a small winebar. She clearly found my inept Spanish and gushing gratitude funny by the way she was babbling away hysterically and didn't stop until I'd left the bar.
We left Mendoza early the next day and made our way to Valparaiso in Chile. Again, the bus was good but it was only a short journey of about eight hours. Crossing the border between Argentina and Chile was a painless affair, only marred slightly by being asked for a tip by the customs handlers. The cheek of it!
Valparaiso is an odd little city, split into two distinct halves. The lower section, at sea-level, is called "El Plan" while the rest of it, and most interesting part, stretches up along the hills around the bay. It's a strange collection of little buildings, painted bright colours and often perched precariously on stilts on the side of the hills. There is graffiti everywhere but it's not the naff, amateur pseudo-political crap you often see around some other cities; some of this is really quite good and cheers up the place in a really unusual way. The view of the sea is brilliant from up in the hills and just slightly let down by the cobweb of phone and electricity cables that seemingly connect all the buildings together. The place reminded me a lot of St. Ives in Cornwall but on a much bigger scale and a lot more run down. It has a definite feeling if faded glamour and somewhat of a tarnished reputation because of the number of tourists that are mugged there every year. Luckily we didn't experience that thrill.
We stepped into a cafe one evening and decided to try the popular local dish called Chorillana. It sounds fairly exotic with it's Chilean name but is in fact just a massive plate of chips topped with fried eggs, fried onion, fried pork and cheese. It is cardiac failure on a plate but is excellent when served with a couple of ice cold beers.
Another evening, after a city walk, we stepped into a bar for some refreshment and ended up staying far longer than we imagined mainly due to the great 80's British music they were playing. We only had about five beers but I made the mistake of being persuaded to sample the barmaid's special cocktail. She wouldn't tell me what was in it but I'm guessing toilet-duck and lemonade as I was as sick as a dog for the next two days and could hardly manage to keep anything down for more than three minutes. A great way to lose a bit of weight but a bit drastic. She seemed a bit upset when we left the bar, chasing after us and asking why we were leaving so soon. It's lucky we did otherwise she may have been mopping the floor a bit more than usual that evening.
During my marathon hangover we took a walk into Viña del Mar which is only a few kilometres from Valparaiso. It was a nice walk along the coast, especially seeing the sea-lions hanging around the pier by the fish market for a few scraps. It was a bit more upmarket than 'Valp' but only just.
We are now in San Pedro de Atacama which was a 25 hour bus journey from Valparaiso and only just tolerable. Thank heaven's for those reclining seats and a dose of immodium. We arrived here at about 23:30 in the pitch black but were still greeted by touts trying to get us to stay in their hostels. We'd pre-booked one though so made our way there trying to look like we knew where we were going and not to attract attention. The map we had though was rubbish so we ended up walking around in circles and had to ask someone in the end.
We've done a few trips while we were here, the first one of which was to Valle de la Luna or Valley of the Moon. It really does look like the moon because it is so desolate and dusty, really interesting though. On our bus was a group of about six blonde twenty-somethings whose collective voices were high enough to shatter glass. The only superlative that they new was 'Amaaaaaazing', and so everything they saw would be described thus. An older Australian bloke on the bus with hair dyed jet-black and a dolly bird from Santiago would translate what the driver was telling us (as best he could). He also made an attempt at translating the Spanish descriptions in the museum but I could've done a better job myself. Not that this bothered the gaggle of giggling girls, he could've told them anything and I'm sure they would have still told him what an 'amaaaaaazing' job he was doing. As they were flocked and chattered on the back seat of the bus, they started slagging off one of their 'friends' who happened to not be on this particular trip with them and they were horrified at the fact that she 'got off with someone who was about forty'. Being my 40th birthday today I couldn't help but laugh as I realised what a relic I must have appeared to them.
We were up early yesterday at 03:00 in the morning as we had a sunrise trip to go and see the Tatio Geysers which are the highest thermal vents in the world (apparently). These things were great though, especially in the morning when it was so cold as the difference between the air temperature and the hot water gushing out of the vents made them really spectacular. They are at about 4200m above sea level (nearly 13000 feet) so the water actually boils at around 85 degrees. Some of the tour companies were boiling eggs in the hot springs to give to their guests for breakfast and at first I was a little put out that ours didn't. I was glad in the end because he told us that because the water isn't at 100 degrees it doesn't kill the salmonella in the eggs and bacteria from the water can leach into the egg through the shells. Apparently, some people have been quite ill.
One of the other great things there are the thermal springs and we went for a swim in the lovely hot water. Just before that though the guide recommended that we stay about 2m from the edges as the ground is quite thin there. Some people have been boiled alive where the crust has come away and scalding water has cooked them while they swim. Nice!
We leave Chile tomorrow after having been here just over a week. We're heading off to Bolivia on a three day trek by car and staying in some sort of salt hotel at some point which will be an experience. It gets really cold at night in the desert so we're going to have to dig out our thermals and coats again. I'm hoping that Bolivia will be cheaper too as Chile and Argentina have been so expensive up until now. Rich makes a point of saying (in his usual loud voice) how expensive everything on the menus is whenever we go into a restaurant. It's starting to get on my nerves a bit now as it's no longer a surprise and we just need to accept it if that's the going rate. There's nothing the waiter can do about the pound being so weak at the moment.
Not sure when I'll get a chance to write another entry as Bolivia is going to be a little less advanced than Chile. Bye for now...
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