Dear Mom, Don´t Read This One!

If you had never been to Potosi, Bolivia you would read a guide book or two, talk to some people that had been there and decide that based off their collective recommendations, you would not visit. That would be one crucial error, my friend.

I too consulted guide books and most of the people I talked to, that had been their, echoed that it was a washed up mining town with nothing to offer. But since Potosi stood between where I was and my next destination, I decided to see what was so bad about the highest city in the world. Turns out, nothing. I would venture to say it was actually my favorite city in all of Bolivia.

All I expected was a dull, gray town that had the life sucked out of it, along with all the silver in the mines, years ago. What I found was a vibrant, colorful city, full of proud citizens who were thrilled at the opportunity to share their culture with you. And they had lots of it. Potosi had the most bright and exciting culture of any city I have visited so far.

Each day I was there, I couldnt go anywhere without there being some kind of festive parade, or marching band, or dancing in the streets. There was no particular holiday they were celebrating, thats just what Potosi does.

Then a local invited us to his cousin´s wedding. Why wouldnt I go? Bolivian weddings are three straight days of party. And they know how to party. So much food. So much drink. So much fun. Congrats to the happy couple.

Finally, the main attraction. The mine. Its an active mine that employs much of the town and it has been busy since the Spanish invaded centuries ago. Over the course of its existence, it is estimated that around 9 million people have met their end in mine related deaths. So obviously I had to check it out. "Millions of people have died in there? Yeah, I´ll go in."

So we hired a couple exminers to take us in. But before we actually went in, we were told that its a good idea to buy gifts for the miners. They apparently like coca leaves, juice, cigarettes, and dynamite. Excuse me? Is purchasing the dynamite an actual option? It is? Ok, just checking.

Enter- my freak out dance. I had to blow something up. Anywhere outside of town would do. Only in Bolivia can I just walk up to a shop and purchase loads of dynamite, fuses, detonators, and dynamite enhancer.

My mind began to ponder just how far I can run in 30 seconds after I light the fuse. Probably not far enough. But how sweet would it be to do that running/diving thing as an explosion happens in the background? Oh the possibilities......

Miner attire is on. Ive literally got an entire bag full of dynamite strapped to my back. Only thing left to do is go in. So we did.

Crawling through tiny spaces, down poor excuses for ladders and battling the dust all while doing my best not to upset the explosives on my back. And its hot. Like uncomfortably hot. So why wouldnt the devil make an appearance? Indeed he did.

The miners have set up a statue/shrine to the lord of the underworld, whom they call Tio, or Uncle. In their culture, though, he is not a bad entity. Just another god who happens to rule the place they work, underground. So they make offerings to him in hopes they he blesses them with pure minerals.

So after hangin with Tio for a bit, passing out some dynamite to the miners, and being tired of not being able to fully stand up we were almost done. And I still had one stick of boom boom left. I think I'll hold on to it.

But on our way out we passed one more hole that our guide called into. A minute later, a 16 year old boys head pops out. He was working a double shift that day and had been working in the mines since he was 13. Powerful stuff down there. And then my conscious kicked in.

These miners are a poor people. They work in some of the worst conditions imaginable and most dont live 30 years after they first enter those mines. They operate as a co-op so they must buy all their own materials. And I just so happened to have some left. I mean, really? Would I have done anything productive with that last stick? Doubtful. I´m sure that kid in the mine made far better use of it. Besides, Ive presumably got 70 years or so left in my life to blow stuff up. He has less than half that time.

So yeah, Potosi. An amazing city with a sad history and reality that I will forever remember, and highly recommend.

And Then Bolivia Happened

The beautiful thing about open-ended travel is that you can think you have an idea of which countries you will be visiting, and end up somewhere completely different. For me, Bolivia has been that, ¨somewhere completely different¨. And I couldnt be more pleased.

Heading East from Lake Titicaca, in Peru, lands you in La Paz, Bolivia. That is where I jumped on a mountain bike, climbed to an elevation of 15,000 feet and took on The Death Road. Estimates have between 200 and 300 people dying on this road each year since the 1930s until it was closed to motor vehicles in the late 1990s, (took them long enough). So now you can bike down it. But given the narrow road, and the extreme drop off the side, a handfull of daredevils still die each year. Obviously I did not. And it was crazy fun.

From La Paz I ventured South to Uyuni. Its home to the largest salt flat in the world, a train graveyard, and its pretty cold. The salt flats are one of the craziest places I´ve ever been. There is nothing else in the world quite like it. Its also a good place to have a little fun with your camera and perspective.

Next was Potosi, an old mining town that is written off and poorly reviewed by guide books and other travelers alike. I had a different experience. Potosi will actually feature on its own in a future post. It was that good.

After that was a couple of fair weather towns farther to the East. Sucre is nicknamed the White City of the Americas and Santa Cruz is the biggest city in Bolivia. Both were nice places to hang out for a few days, but after a month in Bolivia, I hear Argentina calling from the South.

I could not be more happy that I gave Bolivia a chance. It delivered with a tenacity like no other.

When you seize an opportunity with an open mind you end up seeing things like the brightest moon of your life, a rock that looks like a tree, and the Big Dipper, upside down, spilling its contents into the night. Maybe not the best proverb written, but nevertheless, a true story.

Well kids, that is your update for now. I hope all is well with each of you. More later. Lovsies.

Lake Titicaca: The Experience

Lake Titicaca. The highest navigable lake in the world. Don't mind if I do.

Caught a night bus with my new travel buddy who happened to come in the convenient English speaking british model. Our attempts to make it to the lake town of Puno, however, hit a snag. At 5 in the morning.

In the middle of nowhere our bus stopped and we were told that there was a road block in place. This particular block was of the political protest variety. And when I say road block, I mean a bunch of unhappy Peruvians throw whatever they can find in the road to make it impassable for vehicles. Usually it's just a butt ton of rocks. Sometimes it's nasty llama pelts. Oh, and they light fires. Because no real protest would be complete without fire. 

Anyway, Our bus driver told us that the next town was only three km down the road and that we could catch a taxi there. So in the freezing cold darkness we began walking with our 40 lbs of gear. Three km later we discovered that our bus driver was a bit inaccurate. Ten km later it was clear that he had no judgment for distance. And fifteen km of walking later we were just tired and mildly pissed off. 

There was no town anywhere close. Just lots of road block materials and protestors. And fire. Several hours of walking and finally it looked as if there was hope down the road a bit farther.

Sure enough, we reached the end of the road block and there were taxis picking up those like us who were trying to make it to Puno. Unfortunately we were not the only ones to spot those taxis. 

Slightly angered protestors decided they didn't approve of these taxis. So they attacked. Peopled mobbed the cars, throwing rocks, deflating the tires, and doing other general crazy things. I decided it would be in my best interest to not get in one of those vehicles. 

Just a bit farther down the road and away from the mayhem was another taxi. Of course he wanted to rip us off but whatever. We were sick of packing our stuff down that road. So we throw our bags in, get ourselves in, and look behind us.

Now I don't know if you've ever had an angry mob rushing towards you, but it's rather terrifying. "Vamos! Vamos! Vamos! Let's go," I yell at the driver. He peals out. The car only gets hit by a rock or two. And we escape just before the mob converges. 

I know. Way too much fun before 9 AM. 

Now none of this would really have bothered me much if it had not caused us to miss our tour boat. By three minutes. We had put up with so much already that day so this wasn't going to stop us. 

What happens when you need to catch a boat that's already left port? Hire another to chase it down. 

Finally we tracked it down in the maze of the floating islands. They were coming toward us. We were coming towards them. Climb. Onto the bow of our vessel. Gonna have to jump. Only got one chance.

Nailed it like old pros. Once aboard the appropriate boat, after a round of applause, due to our lateness we were asked, "so you boys do a bit of sleeping in this morning?" if only it had been that simple.

Later we were dropped off on an island in the middle of the lake where we were to stay the night with a host family. Shall we say "basic accommodations" may be a bit of an overstatement? Not to worry though, because the overall experience was quite worth it.

A short hike later found us at the top if the island, which was also the highest point in Lake Titicaca. Convenient time and place to enjoy sunset. But as beautiful as that picture was, it was only after the sun had completely vanished that the true show began. 

Never before in my life have I seen so many stars. And if you try and tell me youve seen more, I will smack your face.

Just an obscene number of them jostled for a place in the sky and it was quite the crowded party. The milky way provided the central stage and every so often a plucky star would try it's luck crowd surfing into oblivion. Given our altitude and the lack of any city for miles, we had the best seats in the house.

As I lay there watching, I began to wonder how anyone could ever want to leave this place. After a bit, the riddle was solved. The lack of electricity and indoor plumbing gently tapped me on the shoulder and whispered a reminder that I should put forth a valiant effort to catch the boat back to the mainland that next day.

Lake Titicaca: I'd give it 5 out of 5 stars, but that would just sell it a might short.

So many lovsies!

Machu Picchu!!!

Machu Picchu

Before coming to Peru, I only knew of two ways to get to Machu Picchu. There is the famous 4 day Inca Trail which happens to cost around $600. Then there is the less costly but far more less awesome train ride for the elderly, disabled, out of shape or those strapped for cash. I had all but resigned to the horrific idea of joining the poor pathetic masses on the train due to cost, but once I had spent some time in Peru I began hearing rumors. Tales of an alternative epic journey to Machu Picchu were whispered by the wind. After some thorough investigation the rumors proved true and I could not have been more thrilled!

For less than half the price of the Inca Trek I would be doing the alternate 4 day route known as the Jungle Trek. It still follows some original Incan trails but the possibility and logistics of this trek have only recently been discovered by a man named Lorenzo. So, when I arrived in Cusco I tracked Lorenzo down and got on his next tour. 

I have yet to reveal what truly blows the door off the hinges of awesomeness and makes this trek amazing. But friends, the time is now. 

While others simply hike or take the train to Machu Picchu, I would be trekking, mtn biking, white water rafting, and zip lining my way to one of the 7 wonders of the world! Go ahead and read that again. Now close that gaping mouth of yours. Yeah, I zoomed across cables hundreds of feet above the jungle canopy in search of the great lost Incan city. And that was only one crazy forms of transportation I used to navigate the Peruvian jungle.

The only thing that could make that experience better would be the people with me. Yes, my group of ten were equally fantastic and the guides were super as well. 

So after three days of sweet experiences I will never forget, I still had Machu Picchu the next day. To be honest, I was a little worried it wouldn't live up to the hype, especially after the crazy fun days leading up to it. But I was not let down.

You would think waking up at 4 AM to race up 2000 steps against 400 other people might put a damper on things. False. It only makes gazing upon the forgotten city at first light that much tastier. 

After a tour of the ruins, I hiked the mountain overlooking the city. Note: the mountain is actually named Machu Picchu and no one actually knows what the city was called. Anyway, the view from the top was indescribable. So guess what, I'm not even going to try. Pictures are also incapable of doing it justice. All I can say is that it literally took my breathe away. And no, that was not an effect of the altitude. 

Now, I'm not going to bother writing all the things I learned or anymore details about those 4 days. Basically there is too much material. But please, if you would like to know more, ask me when I get back. I would love nothing more than to sit down with you over a cup of your favorite beverage, and tell you all about one of the greatest experiences of my life. And then we will hug.

Lovsies

Here, There, And Somewhere In The Middle

Meyellow!

So I have finally moved on after spending 2 weeks in the small surf town of Huanchaco, filling my time with hammocks, exploring some ruins, and yes, surfing. It was difficult to leave that little beach paradise but I could hardly complain after I arrived to hang out in the desert oasis of Huacachina. More on the Huacachina experience next time. For now, a few events that lead up to my arrival at the oasis.

The problem with opting for a taxi ride is that you dont always know what you are getting. The best you can really do is glance at the car and if it doesnt look like its going to fall apart once it hits 30, you get in. More often than not, things are just fine and you pay for an uneventful ride. And then there are times when you discover that the taxi´s primary brakes are basically nonexistant. Fortunately the driver has gotten as good as one can get at using a combination of down shifting and the emergency brake. Not the smoothest of rides, but hey, it worked.

Taxis are only one form of transportation that I have become all too familiar with. Another is buses, which happen to be how I get transported from one city to the next. So far the majority of my rides have been in the 8 to 10 hour range, happen over night, and go through some mountain range that would make those in the US consider going back to diapers.

When I was young, I remember going camping with my family. As my dad would navigate the narrowish roads up in the mountains, my mom would occupy her time flipping out worse than a baboon full of cocaine in a bounce house who had just discovered a glob of peanut butter on his tail. For some reason the combination of my dad´s driving and the ever looming steep hill/cliff on one side or the other didnt sit well with her. I would like to first point out that my dad´s driving was in no way unsafe and that my mom, as much as I love her, may have been being a bit irrational. All that is to say this, I would pay huge loads of money to see the video of my mom on one of these buses through the mountains that I have ridden. And I say video because I would refuse to ride that bus with my mom because it would no doubt wreek of urinated pants, buckets of puke, and each person would have numerous scratches from the whirlwind of freak out that my mom would no doubt create because these bus rides are exponenially crazier than anything my dad could have cooked up when I was little.

Anywho, I heard of some sweet ruins to go check out at one point, sooooo........
After six hours on a bus that can easily be catagorized as the bumpiest and least butt friendly of all time, my buns were rather irate with me and my insistance upon that trip. For the next several days, my cheeks and I were not even on speaking terms. They only began to come around once I promised them a night out with many opportunities to shake their groove thang.

And shake it they did. Before that night, if you would have told me that in a small Peruvian town, I had never heard of, that I would end up in the center of the dance floor with all eyes on me as i broke it down, quite thoroughly, to a song that was awesome like four years ago, I would never have believed you. Ok, I totally would not have been surprised because I have some odd talent for ending up in these situations. Regardless, after that night I definitely put that whole dance scenario down on my bucket list, just so I could cross it off.

Thats it for now. Future posts will consist of desert oasis tales and of course I can´t be in Peru without a little Machu Pichu action, which I begin trekking towards on Monday.

So much love. Seriously, you dont even know.

Altitude Sickness is like AIDS........Its For Real

Hello lovers!

So I have recently returned to sea level to spend the next couple weeks in a picturesque little beach town getting super aquainted with my two new best friends, a surf board and a hammock. My arrival here has definitely not come without my share of adventures while visiting my man lover in the mountains. The following is an account of just one of those adventures.

Lake 69. Yes, that is the name of the lake. 69. Naturally I must go there. Nevermind the stories of its beauty or the fantastic panoramic views the trek promised. I had already decided we would make the journey as soon as I heard the name of the lake.

This would not be a multiday trek through dangerous territory, as it can be hiked in a days time, (provided you start early enough). So its not the most difficult trip ever, but it also refuses to be an easy one. Tucked into the Peruvian mountains, just a few peaks past Peru´s tallest mountain, (which sits at a dizzying 22,000+ feet), Lake 69 hangs out right at the snow line, waiting for anyone crazy enough to brave a 5:00 AM alarm.

Brave we were. After catching 2 combis, (cheap mini buses reserved for the poor and unbathed) a taxi, and a few hours of severely bumpy roads we were ready to begin our hike. We worked out a deal with the taxi driver, (who happened to be a woman. feel free to pass judgement right now as I did not at the time, but later regretted), and we agreed to give her half the money before we took off and she would get the last half if she was there to pick us up at the predetermined time to take us back out of the mountains.

Off we set through a fantastic maze along a river in a small valley with snowy mountain tops peering down at us from all sides. Soon we reached what could have been mistaken as a dead end as cliffs rose up in all directions except for the one we had come from. Adorning these massive walls were a plethora of waterfalls, cascading down the rock faces. Soon we found a steep trail that resulted in rapid elevation gain. Finally we reached a false summit and trekked another half mile before making our final ascent to Lake 69. Beautiful it was. But unfortunately here is where trouble arose.

Beginning as just a feeling of a light head and weakness, my plans for a naked lake jump were soon dashed as the real sickness set in. Here is what happens when you get altitude sickness at 15,000 feet, (twice what I am used to when I got snowboarding back home), you puke. A ton. Even if there is nothing left to vomit, you keep right on heaving. The pukes then team up with the worst headache youve ever had. But then they get lonely and invite Mr. Juicey Squirts to get in on the fun to make it a real party. So this trifecta of sickness is wreaking havoc on your body, putting you in no mood to move an inch. The problem with that is, the only way to cure altitude sickness is to decrease your elevation. I had a real catch 22 on my paws.

After realizing that an air lift was probably out of the question, I realized the severity of my situation and my only option was to drag myself back down that mountain. The 1/2 mile ¨hike¨ back to where I could start losing some serious elevation was a real mess as I continued puking, clutching my throbing head, and stopping every so often to oblige Señor Squirts.

Finally I began to feel better as I went down and completed the hike to the rather mellow tune of an achy bodieded, light headed jaunt. I had the forsight to send Kyle ahead to make sure he caught our ride at the right time so she didnt leave without us since I was a bit of a slug. After a rain soaked trek back I made it to the road to find Kyle and no freakin taxi!

Although he made it back in plenty of time, she had bailed. Right then it was decided that there would be no more getting in cars with a woman at the healm for the remainder of my trip. With no phone, dwindling water, darkness soon to set in, and not another outpost for 14 km, we did the only thing we could do, and started walking. With plans to flag down the first vehicle that passed on the rather deserted mountain road, we were mildly worried, to say the least.

Luckily it was not 20 min before a truck, headed in the right direction, came hauling towards us. We flagged them down and the 3 dudes inside happily picked us up. Hitchhiking in rural South America? Why not? When was the last time that ended poorly?

Despite furious speeds down tiny/crappy mtn roads, and our certainty that these men were transporting a decent amount of illegal drugs, we arrived safely in the next town, rape free.

So, I live to blog again. More later as I´m sure I´ve kept you long enough.

Much love

Phase 1 Complete

So my last day in Lima is fast approaching. Friday I board a bus and head north, into the mountains. In Huaraz I will be reunited with my sexy lover, Kyle Blair, who is there with the Peace Corps. Before I leave Lima, I feel it's only fair that I share a few pictures with you of things I've seen, places I've been, or whatever I deemed necessary to pull my camera out for. Now, I could also write about these pictures, but it would honestly be boring to the point that I wouldn't even want to proof read it. So I won't burden you with those details. Instead just gaze upon these few photos and let your imagination fill in the blanks.

What I will tell you about, which is hopefully at least mildly more entertaining, is a few of the random people I've met while in Lima. First there was a couple I hung out with several times who were young Swiss doctors. They were out touring the world before beginning their efforts to save it.

Then there was this guy I met from Sweden while I was wondering around a park. This park was several neighborhoods and a handful of miles away from the hostel I was staying at. Anyway, we talked for a while, he was a cool guy, and I went on my way. Later that night while I'm making dinner at my hostel, guess who sits down at the table. Same guy! No, he didn't creeper stalk me all the way back. Even though we met miles away, we were both staying at the same place.

Next I met a Chinese guy, alex, who was actually from Canada on his way to a town a couple hours south of Lima for a water purification project. He had ridden his motorcycle all the way from canada to Guatemala where his bike burst into flames and burned up. Turns out that the cheapest thing to do was fly back to Canada, buy a new motorcycle and start over again. The day after I met him, he was out on his bike when a taxi pulled out in front of him, slammed on their brakes, and Alex slammed right into them, flew over his handlebars, through the taxis back window and into their back seat. He was fine but the same couldn't be said for his bike. And he was so close to his destination......

And the last guy worthy of making it into my blog should actually be writing a book on his travels. Steve is an Australian who is on the ultimate party world tour. He started in brazil for the week long party known only as Carnival. Shortly he will be arriving in Cancun, Mexico to experience the American holiday called spring break. Then after a long surf break, he jets over to Spain for the running of the bulls. Then if everything goes well, he gets to Germany just in time for octoberfest. So after many months of partying, Steve will return home. His liver, however, will most likely not make it back.

Well, those are the notables for now. I've enjoyed my time in Lima, even if 85% of it does smell like a homeless fish in tattered jean shorts and a greasy fedora, went on a pissing spree. Now I shall find out not only what northern Peru has to offer, but I also plan on discovering which poorly dressed, public urinating, vagabond animal it smells like.

Much love