Tuesday, 30 October 2012
We (T)Inka it's good at Machu Picchu
It's 4am and the vibration of my alarm under my pillow has done its best to awaken me from a Valium sleep. Early early mornings are now the norm, though I'm sure it's them that's making me... What's the word?... Forgetful.
Yesterday I managed to leave Georgie's only bra and dirty pants in the changing room of some natural hot springs. So today she's making her way up to Machu Picchu we just me as support. Hence why I've got the rucksack.
We weren't the first at the bananas and oversized Sugar Puffs for breakfast but still we managed to make it through the tin roofed town of Aguas Calientes and onto the second bus by 5.30am to twist and twirl up to the ancient city's entrance gate.
The overviews of the remote relic are possibly it's most impressive feature. It's an archaic pagan foothold, guarded by misty malachite mountains; an abandoned city that remains hidden majestically in modern times. Well, except for the tourists and shuttle buses.
Still, with the determination of of latter day explorers we clambered our way up to the Sun Gate, passing other near-adventurers making their way down, those whom have followed the original footsteps of the Inka Trail, to get an overview of how difficult it was to visit such a noble and powerful example of human architecture.
We wound down again to the ancient Inka Bridge, now blocked off for safety, it's sheer cliff drop on one side doesn't, presumably, adhere to modern health and safety rules. Still, as a joke I hope they get, we signed "Fell Off" and "Safe" next to our names in the book of visitors that attempt to reach the bridge.
Finally, after a sit down next to the trio practising yoga to listen to some music and catch our breath, we wandered the corridors and walkways, houses and temples of the city itself. It's least impressive close up, the overview is what makes it seem so worthwhile, but I might just be being biased as I shattered both shin and knee attempting to leap Parqeur-style across two rocks for a photo. Insult was added to injury as one of the many whistle happy guards onsite scolded me for being up there in the first place.
The hour hike return was possibly the last thing we wanted to be doing after such and early start, but we reached our hotel just before the rain really started. Definitely a highlight of our trip so far.
Yesterday I managed to leave Georgie's only bra and dirty pants in the changing room of some natural hot springs. So today she's making her way up to Machu Picchu we just me as support. Hence why I've got the rucksack.
We weren't the first at the bananas and oversized Sugar Puffs for breakfast but still we managed to make it through the tin roofed town of Aguas Calientes and onto the second bus by 5.30am to twist and twirl up to the ancient city's entrance gate.
The overviews of the remote relic are possibly it's most impressive feature. It's an archaic pagan foothold, guarded by misty malachite mountains; an abandoned city that remains hidden majestically in modern times. Well, except for the tourists and shuttle buses.
Still, with the determination of of latter day explorers we clambered our way up to the Sun Gate, passing other near-adventurers making their way down, those whom have followed the original footsteps of the Inka Trail, to get an overview of how difficult it was to visit such a noble and powerful example of human architecture.
We wound down again to the ancient Inka Bridge, now blocked off for safety, it's sheer cliff drop on one side doesn't, presumably, adhere to modern health and safety rules. Still, as a joke I hope they get, we signed "Fell Off" and "Safe" next to our names in the book of visitors that attempt to reach the bridge.
Finally, after a sit down next to the trio practising yoga to listen to some music and catch our breath, we wandered the corridors and walkways, houses and temples of the city itself. It's least impressive close up, the overview is what makes it seem so worthwhile, but I might just be being biased as I shattered both shin and knee attempting to leap Parqeur-style across two rocks for a photo. Insult was added to injury as one of the many whistle happy guards onsite scolded me for being up there in the first place.
The hour hike return was possibly the last thing we wanted to be doing after such and early start, but we reached our hotel just before the rain really started. Definitely a highlight of our trip so far.
Salt Plains, far from it!
Turning up in Uyuni it was like walking through tour agency land. As soon as we got off the bus we were accosted by various different people offering exactly the same tour but we stayed strong and pushed through the crowds. The reason for this being that we had read a few horror stories (I know I'm usually a fan but when it actually involves me I'm not so keen) so I had done some research and written down the companies I heard good things about and we were not to stray from the list. The first place we went to was Red Planet and this company came the most highly recommended, however we turned up 2 minutes too late and they had just given away the last 2 seats over email. Oh well it was too expensive anyway and who needs extra oxygen bottles just in case. The second place had no one else booked on the tour already so we took this to be a bad sign and moved on to the next which quoted a price that seemed too cheap and although we are on a budget we did want to come back alive. So in the end it came down to a choice between 2, Blue Line Services or Hadouka Mountain with just a small price difference and both only having 1 good review online. Hadouka won it as they chucked in sleeping bags for free, result!
So the next morning we got up bright and early and bounded round the corner to our waiting jeep. Here we met our Salt Tour crew, Peter and Scarlett (a couple from the UK but Scarlett was actually Belgian), Jacopo from Italy, Yuko from Japan and Mario our driver who we thought was called Carlos for half the trip.
We set off with our bags wrapped safely (sort of) to the top of the car and made our first stop at a train graveyard which was brilliant fun. They had made a playground out of some old parts and you could have a swing or a see-saw (Dan hit his balls!) and we ran around like small children! Next stop was the actual Salar (salt plain) itself, the main event, which was truly stunning. It's so white and there are piles of salt as well as holes with water underneath which look like Eskimos would sit and fish at and the salt also makes sort of hexagon shapes on the ground. We spent a few hours having lunch here and taking the obligatory perspective photos before driving to our Salt Hotel. Literally everything was made of salt here apart from the loo! We managed to nab the last few private rooms and then settled in for the night. After lots of tea and chatting, Mario brought our dinner out which was soup to start and then some weird meat for main. After waiting a bit for my vegetarian option to come I decided to ask Mario what it was to which he replied 'I haven't got any vegetarian food'. The flipping woman at the tour office forgot to tell him and there is not exactly any Tescos on this route. Luckily Mario was a very nice man and made a real effort to get me vegetables and stuff from other drivers so it wasn't too much of a drama!
After dinner we noticed that a few other tables had wine and got a bit jealous so when one of the drivers told us we could get some from a little shop nearby (you see that tiny light over there in the distance?) Scarlett - a girl after my own heart - and I decided to go on a mission, torches in hand and after returning empty handed (we found the shop but no wine) they told us we could just buy some from the hotel, brilliant.
The next day was spent visiting many, many lakes which contained many, many flamingoes some of which were rare or famous or something. We also saw a volcano that was puffing smoke and a rock tree. Unfortunately for poor Yuko who had a funny belly there was a distinct lack of toilets and she became very well acquainted with the outdoors despite all the immodium we all pushed on her. In the end it was only Mario's special tea that could help, not sure what was in it but it was a miracle brew.
The last lake we visited which is where we stayed the night in 'basic basic basic' accommodation as Mario kept telling us was the most impressive. It was bright red and looked like it had glaciers on it. I half expected a polar bear to come strolling out. We were at about 5000 metres above sea level now and it was very cold, especially in the basic hostel, luckily Peter had brought some rum and we had some more wine so we were able to warm ourselves up with alcohol, yummy!
After a chilly night's sleep we drove to the border of Chile (see what I did there?) where we were dropping the others off and on the way we visited some stinky geezers (sort of hot eggy gas rising out of the ground), a toxic white lake and natural hot springs which were also eggy. There was no changing room and after getting out Dan's beard turned to ice!
After saying goodbye to our new friends we set off just the two of us and Mario back to the Uyuni where we first started. With one stop at an old church and plenty of window up and down action to avoid the big trucks spraying sand in the car we got back safely only to board an overnight bus pretty much straight away to La Paz and so the journey continues..
So the next morning we got up bright and early and bounded round the corner to our waiting jeep. Here we met our Salt Tour crew, Peter and Scarlett (a couple from the UK but Scarlett was actually Belgian), Jacopo from Italy, Yuko from Japan and Mario our driver who we thought was called Carlos for half the trip.
We set off with our bags wrapped safely (sort of) to the top of the car and made our first stop at a train graveyard which was brilliant fun. They had made a playground out of some old parts and you could have a swing or a see-saw (Dan hit his balls!) and we ran around like small children! Next stop was the actual Salar (salt plain) itself, the main event, which was truly stunning. It's so white and there are piles of salt as well as holes with water underneath which look like Eskimos would sit and fish at and the salt also makes sort of hexagon shapes on the ground. We spent a few hours having lunch here and taking the obligatory perspective photos before driving to our Salt Hotel. Literally everything was made of salt here apart from the loo! We managed to nab the last few private rooms and then settled in for the night. After lots of tea and chatting, Mario brought our dinner out which was soup to start and then some weird meat for main. After waiting a bit for my vegetarian option to come I decided to ask Mario what it was to which he replied 'I haven't got any vegetarian food'. The flipping woman at the tour office forgot to tell him and there is not exactly any Tescos on this route. Luckily Mario was a very nice man and made a real effort to get me vegetables and stuff from other drivers so it wasn't too much of a drama!
After dinner we noticed that a few other tables had wine and got a bit jealous so when one of the drivers told us we could get some from a little shop nearby (you see that tiny light over there in the distance?) Scarlett - a girl after my own heart - and I decided to go on a mission, torches in hand and after returning empty handed (we found the shop but no wine) they told us we could just buy some from the hotel, brilliant.
The next day was spent visiting many, many lakes which contained many, many flamingoes some of which were rare or famous or something. We also saw a volcano that was puffing smoke and a rock tree. Unfortunately for poor Yuko who had a funny belly there was a distinct lack of toilets and she became very well acquainted with the outdoors despite all the immodium we all pushed on her. In the end it was only Mario's special tea that could help, not sure what was in it but it was a miracle brew.
The last lake we visited which is where we stayed the night in 'basic basic basic' accommodation as Mario kept telling us was the most impressive. It was bright red and looked like it had glaciers on it. I half expected a polar bear to come strolling out. We were at about 5000 metres above sea level now and it was very cold, especially in the basic hostel, luckily Peter had brought some rum and we had some more wine so we were able to warm ourselves up with alcohol, yummy!
After a chilly night's sleep we drove to the border of Chile (see what I did there?) where we were dropping the others off and on the way we visited some stinky geezers (sort of hot eggy gas rising out of the ground), a toxic white lake and natural hot springs which were also eggy. There was no changing room and after getting out Dan's beard turned to ice!
After saying goodbye to our new friends we set off just the two of us and Mario back to the Uyuni where we first started. With one stop at an old church and plenty of window up and down action to avoid the big trucks spraying sand in the car we got back safely only to board an overnight bus pretty much straight away to La Paz and so the journey continues..
Rio-oooooh-so-brilliant...
Undoubtedly one of the best cities we've visited so far, Rio has everything: wonderful beaches, beautiful weather, cultural delights, excellent bar life and a penance for stuffing as many bunk beds into a dorm as is humanly possible. Rumour has it that Tetris developers were called in to help align the beds so they have optimum face to feet ratio.
The trouble with our time there was a similar conundrum to that of the hostel owners: how to fit it all in. We swung up Sugarloaf Mountain to watch the sun set and the lights rise, we visited samba clubs and struggled to groove like locals, succeeding better at asking for dubstep and clearing a dance floor at another bar, we drank coconut juice and caipirinhas on Copacabana Beach and rose early to get Cristo de Redeemer almost to ourselves. We partied with Brazilians until dawn broke, rain clouds appeared and our wallets limped home as if they'd been the ones stacking everything on a tab. The only stone we left unturned were those of the Lapa Steps but like Hansel and Gretal, we had to leave something so we can return.
The same can be said for Ilha Grande, the relaxing, car-less island off the east coast. It reminded us of the Thai islands, just with a lot less people, no day-glo paint and much better fish dinners. The caipirinhas were just as strong here too and arriving by pirate ship just about topped the whole thing off but we just didn't have enough time to explore it all.
Still not convinced (am I on commission or something?), the food is MasterChef-ready and you can pay by the kilo! So we ate like kings but paid as paupers. Rio World Cup, anyone?
The trouble with our time there was a similar conundrum to that of the hostel owners: how to fit it all in. We swung up Sugarloaf Mountain to watch the sun set and the lights rise, we visited samba clubs and struggled to groove like locals, succeeding better at asking for dubstep and clearing a dance floor at another bar, we drank coconut juice and caipirinhas on Copacabana Beach and rose early to get Cristo de Redeemer almost to ourselves. We partied with Brazilians until dawn broke, rain clouds appeared and our wallets limped home as if they'd been the ones stacking everything on a tab. The only stone we left unturned were those of the Lapa Steps but like Hansel and Gretal, we had to leave something so we can return.
The same can be said for Ilha Grande, the relaxing, car-less island off the east coast. It reminded us of the Thai islands, just with a lot less people, no day-glo paint and much better fish dinners. The caipirinhas were just as strong here too and arriving by pirate ship just about topped the whole thing off but we just didn't have enough time to explore it all.
Still not convinced (am I on commission or something?), the food is MasterChef-ready and you can pay by the kilo! So we ate like kings but paid as paupers. Rio World Cup, anyone?
Sunday, 21 October 2012
A fall down the Devil's Throat
Huge, roaring and damp, no it's not a Georgie hangover but the completely breath-taking Iguazu Falls. We visited them first on the Argentinian side and it was such an impressive sight. We wandered along the bottom trail looking up in awe and braving a soaking to get some good snaps before stopping to eat our soggy sandwiches whilst avoiding the weird greedy monkeys. We did better than most with this as they snuck behind people and tore apart their carriers or jumped over their shoulders onto the table when the 'please don't feed the animals' signs were ignored (no sympathy). Anyway after a slightly stressful lunch we headed out onto the upper trail which gave us some great views over to the other side and you can really experience the power of the water. The worst part about it was the queue for the train but you can avoid this by having a bit of a walk. Oh and the MILLIONS of butterflies, it was like a terrifying nightmare/horror film.
We also went to have a look at the Brazilian side which we felt was a little less impressive but still worth a look. You get to see them from a more complete perspective and there was also a chance to get proper soaked and have a little ride in the lift. The cheeky monkeys were still there annoying picnickers and there weren't as many people although it felt a lot more crowded because there was less space at the viewing points but it was still a bloody brilliant view! There were quite a few optional extras you could do here which may have made it that little bit better but being the cheapskates you all know and love of course we paid the bare minimum! Still I think I'm going to go out on a limb (I don't even know what this phrase means but I think it fits here) and say it is the most amazing natural thing I have ever seen and I've been to the Stewartby Brickworks...
We also went to have a look at the Brazilian side which we felt was a little less impressive but still worth a look. You get to see them from a more complete perspective and there was also a chance to get proper soaked and have a little ride in the lift. The cheeky monkeys were still there annoying picnickers and there weren't as many people although it felt a lot more crowded because there was less space at the viewing points but it was still a bloody brilliant view! There were quite a few optional extras you could do here which may have made it that little bit better but being the cheapskates you all know and love of course we paid the bare minimum! Still I think I'm going to go out on a limb (I don't even know what this phrase means but I think it fits here) and say it is the most amazing natural thing I have ever seen and I've been to the Stewartby Brickworks...
Buenos Air-heads: the time zone killa
There's nothing quite like crossing 13 time zones to make your mind go wonky. That said, there is nowhere you'd rather have your body clock bend than in Buenos Aires.
The real magic in that journey was in how the aeroplane we boarded in Sydney could ever travel around the world. It hardly looked as if it could make it across a DK Atlas. The plane was old enough to have a model in the Airfix series but surely this one had some bits missing; maybe it should go back to the shop. And if we still weren't convinced that it's the type of flight run by the devil or his current Mikey 'Ryanair' O'Leary incarnation, they managed to project the same Zac Efron movie onto the aisle wall twice. Things, we assured each other from the "Brace Brace" position, can only get better...
And they did. Buenos Aires is a fantastic city. From the sugar-filled treats they called breakfast to the constant protests down every corner you turned, we fell in love with the place. It's the Paris of South America, they told us, though I think that's due to the amount of dog shit everywhere rather than the wonderful architecture. We loved the antiques market in San Telmo on a Sunday morning where we bought an English to Spainish dictionary for 20p with phrases like 'Dear sir, can you tell me where I can purchased some kid-gloves', 'What the Dickins!' and 'I'd like a hat box for my hat' as well as some real Raybans for next to nothing.
We also ventured, some what aprehensively, into La Boca to see the colourful houses down by the docks.
"What's the best way to walk down there?" we asked.
"You shouldn't walk in La Boca," replied the hostel receptionist.
"How do we get there, then?"
"By cab."
"We don't want to go by cab, is there a bus?"
"Yes, the 29, but do not take any valuables. Only get off at the colourful houses and back on at the same place. Don't go anywhere else, it's too dangerous." Riiiight.
Nothing untoward happened though: we took some photos of the houses, I talked football with a homeless person (he thought I was French because my top was striped) and we watched some tango without getting anything nicked. A b it of a non-story really, but I've got space to fill.
The wide-awake-it's-4am jet lag worked perfectly over there too. Everyone was eating their dinner at 11.30pm. It's rare that I've seen people drinking coffee at midnight, but here it's mandatory. Not everyone fell into step though, the French girl in the bunk above Georgie, for example, managed to fall from it and bleed everywhere before weeing with the door open and scowling back into our room. Maybe she needed more sleep.
Right, I'm rambling and not saying much. We also vistied Evita's gave, a small mausoleum compared to the city of excessive tombs that surrounds it. Some of the graves were like mini houses with their own statues reaching for the skies. I'd be annoyed if mine was the tomb next to the toilets though. The sewers in Argentina can't take toilet paper and people were piling it into an already full bin in some heat. Well, you shouldn't come to a cemetary for a dump really should you?
The Rest of Argentina
It turns out we visited some of the less touristy spots in the country after Buenos Aires...
Rosario
The birthplace of Che Gueva and Messi also had more mosquitoes than anywhere else on the planet and, unfortunately for us, we visited on a Sunday and Monday when EVERYTHING was closed. So there are plenty of photos of me swatting away the dengue swines next to a muddy lake in the drizzle.
Parana
Not much to do here either. We visited a history museum that was entirely in Spanish and spilled red wine on the hostel's white tablecloth. We also walked to the bus station three times as we'd forgotten our passports. Yup, that's the most worthy mentions of our two days there.
Resisentcia
The city of 500 statues. We got onto the wrong bus and ended up in some dusty barrio but once we found our bearings we saw about 145 of the street statues (yup, we will do a slideshow on our return) before I tripped over a curb and cut my toe open. Big thanks to the shop keeper who wanted to pour Dettol onto it.
Posadas
Too hot to do anything, so we shopped around for an hour trying to find an avocado. We did take a look at Uraguay but it was so steaming warm we decieded to sit by the hostel pool instead. We also visited here on a Sunday. Noice.
The real magic in that journey was in how the aeroplane we boarded in Sydney could ever travel around the world. It hardly looked as if it could make it across a DK Atlas. The plane was old enough to have a model in the Airfix series but surely this one had some bits missing; maybe it should go back to the shop. And if we still weren't convinced that it's the type of flight run by the devil or his current Mikey 'Ryanair' O'Leary incarnation, they managed to project the same Zac Efron movie onto the aisle wall twice. Things, we assured each other from the "Brace Brace" position, can only get better...
And they did. Buenos Aires is a fantastic city. From the sugar-filled treats they called breakfast to the constant protests down every corner you turned, we fell in love with the place. It's the Paris of South America, they told us, though I think that's due to the amount of dog shit everywhere rather than the wonderful architecture. We loved the antiques market in San Telmo on a Sunday morning where we bought an English to Spainish dictionary for 20p with phrases like 'Dear sir, can you tell me where I can purchased some kid-gloves', 'What the Dickins!' and 'I'd like a hat box for my hat' as well as some real Raybans for next to nothing.
We also ventured, some what aprehensively, into La Boca to see the colourful houses down by the docks.
"What's the best way to walk down there?" we asked.
"You shouldn't walk in La Boca," replied the hostel receptionist.
"How do we get there, then?"
"By cab."
"We don't want to go by cab, is there a bus?"
"Yes, the 29, but do not take any valuables. Only get off at the colourful houses and back on at the same place. Don't go anywhere else, it's too dangerous." Riiiight.
Nothing untoward happened though: we took some photos of the houses, I talked football with a homeless person (he thought I was French because my top was striped) and we watched some tango without getting anything nicked. A b it of a non-story really, but I've got space to fill.
The wide-awake-it's-4am jet lag worked perfectly over there too. Everyone was eating their dinner at 11.30pm. It's rare that I've seen people drinking coffee at midnight, but here it's mandatory. Not everyone fell into step though, the French girl in the bunk above Georgie, for example, managed to fall from it and bleed everywhere before weeing with the door open and scowling back into our room. Maybe she needed more sleep.
Right, I'm rambling and not saying much. We also vistied Evita's gave, a small mausoleum compared to the city of excessive tombs that surrounds it. Some of the graves were like mini houses with their own statues reaching for the skies. I'd be annoyed if mine was the tomb next to the toilets though. The sewers in Argentina can't take toilet paper and people were piling it into an already full bin in some heat. Well, you shouldn't come to a cemetary for a dump really should you?
The Rest of Argentina
It turns out we visited some of the less touristy spots in the country after Buenos Aires...
Rosario
The birthplace of Che Gueva and Messi also had more mosquitoes than anywhere else on the planet and, unfortunately for us, we visited on a Sunday and Monday when EVERYTHING was closed. So there are plenty of photos of me swatting away the dengue swines next to a muddy lake in the drizzle.
Parana
Not much to do here either. We visited a history museum that was entirely in Spanish and spilled red wine on the hostel's white tablecloth. We also walked to the bus station three times as we'd forgotten our passports. Yup, that's the most worthy mentions of our two days there.
Resisentcia
The city of 500 statues. We got onto the wrong bus and ended up in some dusty barrio but once we found our bearings we saw about 145 of the street statues (yup, we will do a slideshow on our return) before I tripped over a curb and cut my toe open. Big thanks to the shop keeper who wanted to pour Dettol onto it.
Posadas
Too hot to do anything, so we shopped around for an hour trying to find an avocado. We did take a look at Uraguay but it was so steaming warm we decieded to sit by the hostel pool instead. We also visited here on a Sunday. Noice.
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