Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Life in Motion



If you need to find me my current address is "Pluto", an Absolute Africa Truck - big, yellow, noisy, with open air windows held down by tarps, filled to the brim with 20 people, crates of food for every meal and loaded with tents, sleeping mats and backpacks. To get onto the truck you have to climb a four-step ladder then stairs, because underneath the truck are massive containers that hold everything we need on the road. To get anything you need out of your big backpack you have to move 20 other packs, and for someone whose arms barely reach into the compartment it proves difficult. People hang their laundry in the truck, leave stinky shoes on the floor and everytime you need to get something out of your locker the people sitting in the seat have to raise their feet so you can get in. We spend most days starting at 6:30am and arriving at our second location at 6:00pm, sweaty and wind-blown. We then set up our tents (rain or shine), and depending on what group you're in that day, start making dinner, clean up after dinner or clean the truck. I am slowly acclimating to the lifestyle, but considering there are 20+ other trucks out there (including a bright pink Swedish truck where the campers party like rock stars and sleep on the bus' roof), this seems to be the easiest way to travel through Africa. The only real set-back of a life in motion is we never get to stop and experience the "Real Africa", which we only see out of our windows in between gated campsites.

After a long drive day we arrived at Candee Beach on Lake Malawi. Malawi, one of the poorest countries in the world, is called "The Heart of Africa" because of its friendly people. As you drive through the countryside there are many water pumps, clay homes with grass thatched roofs, and villagers who appear to be somewhat self-sustaining . When we arrived at the campsite we were immediately pursued by local wood carvers who craft beautiful chairs, necklaces, spoons, etc. out of a dark wood, which they sell to tourists for a bartered price of anywhere from $5 to $150. A lot of local people make their living this way so I went ahead and supported them, and my shopping habit. At the campsite, lthough 15 of my fellow campers upgraded to nice rooms for the 3 nights at Candee, my tent-mate Meghan and I opted to save the $15 total and stay in our tent. It's amazing how cheap you get when you're travelling.




The next day we spent the morning dealing with massive amounts of rain, and then got ready for our horse ride. Even after my last experience falling off of a horse in Argentina I thought I would give it another go. Well my horse, Bolt, lived up to his name, taking off at fighter-jet speed, running me directly into tree banches, while I subsequently lost my stirrups, balance and held on for dear life, while screaming "someone help me, I am going to fall off!!" Luckily I wasn't the only one to have problems as two of the beginners nearly fell off, and one Hungarian spent the entire ride screaming "Stop. Why won't you listen to me horse?! Why are you not like a car and stop when I tell you. Stop laughing at me everyone. This is not funny!" (All said in a Borat-like accent.) Pretty hysterical. The BEST and redeeming part of the ride was when we rode the horses bare-back into the lake at sunset and then held onto their bridals as they rolled in the sand.

That night we had a pig roast and punch party, accompanied by a "fancy dress party." Earlier in the day we had arrived in a small town, which had a market (which looked like a sea of wooden boards, haphazardly arranged into a maze of square stalls). As we pulled in, men ran to our truck with bags of the ugliest and most ridiculous clothing, donated by people like you and me back in 1990. Each person had to buy an ugly outfit for one of their fellow travellers, and reveal it that night. With most of the men in 90's prom dresses and the women in ugly velvet two-pieces it made for a hysterical evening.




The next two days were spent on long drives through Malawi (with a stop in the capital city, Lilongwe where we were all excited by several pizza places and even a Nando's ) and Zambia (with a stop in their capital city Lusaka, which had a shopping mall!!) After one last painful border crossing into Zimbabwe (where we all took bets as to how much time it would take, and with our Hungarian disaster it was over 3 hours) we arrived to our Christmas destination, Lake Kariba. The houseboats weren't exactly what I thought they were going to be (think two story sheet metal boat with thin walls seperating each room, matresses on the floor and drapes for doors, with an upstairs "jacuzzi" that was filled up with lake water, and a trillion knat-like bugs on every surface), but the setting was picturesque. All around us where mountains and beautiful green islands occupied with hippos, elephants and other animals. Even though the water was crocodile infested, we did jump off the boat's roof a couple of times, but spent the rest of the day swimming in the Croc Cage. We had an amazing Christmas morning where we were woken up at 2am because the boat was experiencing the most massive storm I have ever seen, and we had to shut our tarp windows and brace ourselves. That day we had top notch lunch, a hysterical game of bad santa (where my face paint sticks were not appreciated), lots of sun bathing in the extreme temperatures, and evnetually an tear-jerking call home.

After two nights we headed back to mainland, and started our journey to Antelope Park where I am now. While here I will walk with Lions, horse back ride again (I am a glutton for punishment) and spend the two days enjoying the beautiful game park before heading south to Victoria falls.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

TIA Mzungu




For those of you who aren't great with acronyms, or haven't seen the movie "Blood Diamond" with Leonardo Dicaprio, the letters TIA stand for "This Is Africa." Mzungu is the term locals use when they see a white traveller. The African ways take some getting used to, often different, time consuming and sometimes even shocking, but are almost always explained with the simple phrase of TIA. When our Serengeti tour guide got out of the 4x4 and said he would be back in 10 minutes, we learned about "African Time", after he arrived 1 hour and 20 minutes later, TIA. Whilst driving through Zanzibar Island I saw a man dragging a dead cat by a rope, TIA. Upon our first arrival at the Indian Ocean I dove in with enthusiasm, only to be surrounded by 20 locals, and subsequently groped by any and everyone within swimming distance, TIA. When getting our bags off the ferry after Zanzibar Island you literally get pushed, elbowed, and knocked into while people try to scramble for their bags (I will never again get upset if someone steps in front of me while at a US airport), TIA. During every drive we constantly get locals staring at us with confused looks or waving to us with enthusiasm, some yelling "Mzungu", some giving thumbs up and even some giving the middle finger. While driving through Dar es Salaam traffic, we had our first video taker, so I hammed it up for the camera and did a little smile and dance, only to later learn that while this video enthusiast distracted us, his buddy was stealing our truck's taillights, TIA. Needless to say, "This is Africa" and these are some of the things that come with it, but I promise it does have many redeeming qualities.


After meeting up with 8 members of my group in Arusha, we headed bright and early, via 4x4 vehicles to the Serengeti National Park. It was a long bumpy ride, especially considering Frank our local driver smells pretty fragrant to begin with compounded his manly aroma with consistent flatulence. On our drive in we were lucky enough to see a beautiful Cheetah, giraffes and a lion in the distance. We weren't allowed to get out of our trucks, so anytime we thought we saw something we would pull over, and all 8 of us would pop our heads out of the roof with cameras in hand.



At a lunch pit stop a hawk attacked us for our boxed lunches, coming so close that it scratched one of the girls in the face, but made for a hilarious story afterwards. After a night camping in the Serengeti (making sure our tents were at least 6ft apart in case Elephants decided to walk through) we woke up for an early morning game drive. This morning was amazing as we got to see a tree filled with baboons, ponds swimming with mud covered Hippos, families of elephants, two leopards and more giraffes. That night we camped on the edge of the Ngororo crater - a volcanic collapse thousands of years ago created this breathtaking circular enclosure, permananetly inhabitating a wide variety of animals that do not need to migrate because of the diverse climates within the crater.




The next day we did an early morning game drive in the Ngororo crater and the best way to describe it was a scene right out of The Lion King (minus the singing, dancing, and stampedes in the gorge.) With tall jutting rocks encircling you, Zebras, Wildabeests, lions and all other wildlife walk around freely. We spent most of our day saying things like "Simba, hes alive", "Rafiki", and "Asante Sana, Squashed Bananana" (scenes from The Lion King). In Swaheeli Simba means Lion, while Rafiki means friend, and Asanta Sana means Thank You very much. I didn't know I was learning Swaheeli while watching The Lion King all those years ago, and that someday it might actually be useful!


On our way our of the park we stopped at a Masai camp, a local tribe of people who wear orange and blue plaid material draped over their bodies, and thick beaded jewlrey on their arms and necks. (Some of the more stylish Masai Warriors on Zanzibar island also wore man purses and designer sunglasses.) We were directed into their small dirt huts and told about their culture, where each man gets as many wives as he wants (the Patriarch of this family had 15 wives), the women build the houses and the men tend to the cows. We later performed a traditional Masai dance (and I showed them some traditional American dance, which made them laugh) and were forced to haggle for traditional Masai jewlrey. That night we headed back to Arusha to gear up for our early morning drive in the direction of Zanzibar Island.


After one night camping in Dar es Salaam, on a beachsite overlooking the Indian Ocean, we arose early to head via tuk-tuk, short but packed with people ferry, and then 2 hour ferry to Zanzibar Island. Stonetown is part of the island developed by the Ottoman empire in the 1800's for slave and spice trading, and is exactly as it sounds - made of white stone. Although historical, and boasts an amazing night market where you can buy skewers of all types of seafood (I got octopus and calamari), I wasn't too impressed with it.

After one night in stonetown we headed to the beach, to stay three nights at our "resort". Located directly on the most amazing beach I have ever seen I saw past the dirty bathroom and ant-infestation to have the most relaxing 3 days of scuadiving, swimming with sea-turtles, and sunbathing. Currently badly sun burnt and super relaxed, I am in 12-hour transit in the direction of Lake Malawai.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Kilimanjaro - A Once in a Lifetime Experience




Most of the time when you say this is a "once in a lifetime opportunity" it means this is probably the one and only chance you'll get in your life to do something , but that is not what I mean when I say it. I bet at a later point in my life I could come and hike Mount Kilimanjaro again, but the point is that I don't want to. Although it was an amazing, beautiful and exhiliarting experience, I am sure it will only happen ONCE in my lifetime!

Apparently US airways cannot check a bag completely through that has 4 connections, and I did - Orlando to Charlotte, to Washington DC, to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and finally to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania. Because of this set-back the ticket lady in Orlando (at 4:00am) had to hand write my final destination on my baggage sticker - JRO. As I looked out the window upon landing in my first destination, Charlotte, I saw the baggage men panic at the sight of my baggage ticket. Waving their arms and pointing at the ticket with looks of confusion, I knew at this point my bag wouldn't arrive in Kilimanjaro. What I didn't know, is that it would spend 3 days in Frankfurt, Germany. Luckily I have a bulldog of a mother who persisted with US airways to find my bag. I ended up renting all my hiking gear, buying toilettries and even undewear at the local Tanzanian market, and was eventually hand delivered my bag to my campsite at 3,720 meters four days after arriving in Africa.




Upon arriving in Tanzania I was picked up by Sampson, a representative for Absolute Africa. He briefed me on the climb, ending his spiel by telling me that vomiting is normal due to the high altitude. I should have listened! The next day I started the 6 day Marangu Route also known as the "Coca Cola Route", considered the easiest of the six possible options. 50% of all travellers use this route because of the "comfortable" mountain huts with solar powered lighting. At the entrance gate I was greeted by my guide William, my two porters and one chef. As the others ran up the mountain carrying all my clothes, food, and gear on their backs (and heads!), I walked leisurely through the initial rainforrest with William until we reached the Mandara Huts at 2,700m. After a hot dinner of cucumber soup, fried bread, curry, rice and fresh fruit, I climbed into my sleeping bag for a good (but cold) nights rest.




The second day I met up with some fellow travellers who became my hiking buddies - Owen from Norway, Ronnie and Patrik from Sweden and Sam from Canada. On day 2 we walked through grassy moorland, eventually ending at the Horombo huts at 3,720m, where there is a real sense of being above the clouds. Apparently altitude sickness is a serious thing when hiking such a high mountain, so not only does your guide repeat the phrase "polle polle" which means "slowly slowly", but I also had to spend 1 extra day at the Horombo huts to help acclimatize.






On day 4 we climbed very gradually through a "lunar desert", eventually ending at the Kibo Hut (4,700m) which sits at the base of the crater! Here we were told to get as much sleep as possible because we were going to start hiking at 12am the following morning. In what seemed like an instant we were woken up with cookies and tea, and set out in the pitch black night to start our ascent. We started in high spirits, singing and laughing, but as things started to get cold (I thought they were cold before, but didn't know what I was in for), I started to lose my spirit. The zig-zag climb over loose volcanic rock was steep and at about 5,500 meters my Kilimanjaro dreams began to crash in on me. (Only 6 days ago I learned that altitude sickness pills exist, but I wish I had known this before I started my climb!!) I began to get a horrible headache, nausea, and was so cold I couldn't move my fingers or toes. As the other members of my group continued up the mountain I was left behind with William, doubled over in pain. After about 4 1/2 hours I ended up making it to Gilman's point, where I proceeded to drink hot tea and then vomit it all over the Gilman ground. My poor guide was rubbing my back and wiping the snot from my nose, while I moaned in pain.



I insisted on continuing and walked the two painful hours to the summit, just in time for sunrise. It was so cold that my guide William had to take all my pictures because I couldn't get my fingers out of my gloves. But with glowing white ice, glaciers and mountainous peaks in every direction I attempted to shake off my miserable state to take in the scenery. At 5,896m it was glorious. But what was even more glorious was heading back down the mountain! After another 2 days of hiking I arrived back at my hotel this afternoon to a hot shower and hamburgers with my hiking buddies. I have now conquered the highest free standing mountain in the world, and I only cried twice! Woo-hoo!



Today I am off to Arusha to hop on my Safari truck and begin my 60 days down to Capetown.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Thanks for Walking with Me!



I can’t say that I have been too busy to write my final blog as I am currently “retired”, living with my parents in America’s largest community for active seniors, The Villages. I guess the reason I haven’t written is because I am reluctant to admit my year-long travel trip is over. OVER. The word resonates so heavy with me, like the day you graduate college and know you will never be back there, with your friends, enjoying the good times of youth. And young and free is how I felt, traveling in a circle of people living my same gypsy lifestyle, of openness, warm-welcomes and complete lack of responsibility. I will forever cherish the memories I have made and the people I have met, but more than anything, I know I have returned a changed woman, now seeing myself as just a small part of a very big world.

On my trip I learned so much about myself and the world around me, but the most important thing I learned came from a very simple realization. In Asian countries one of the most popular sayings is “same, same, but different”, which street sellers say to get you to buy their products, even though they are the exact same as the items in the next stall. This simple phrase describes the people of this world. Although we speak differently, look differently and live in completely different cultures, we are all the same at heart. In every country I saw children playing together, families embracing after not seeing each other for long periods of time, people taking care of one another, parents doing all they could to make money for their families. The words of John F. Kennedy sum up my thoughts: “For in the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children’s futures. And we are all mortal.” Despite our differences, we need not be afraid of the world around us. It is a beautiful place.

I figured I would use my final post to answer all of the questions people have about my trip, that way, I can refer them to my blog instead of answering the same questions a million times. So here goes:

How many countries did I visit in total?
14 countries!
They are New Zealand, Australia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Indonesia, Uruguay, Argentina, Chile, Bolivia and Peru.

What was my favorite place?
Each country I visited was amazing in it’s own way, but some places I did enjoy more than others, depending on who I was with and the activities I did. Here are the places I liked the best, and the reasons:
New Zealand: NZ is an ecologically diverse country packed into two small islands, which you can see in a short trip. Friendly people. Lots of extreme sports. Beautiful scenery.
Laos: Although all of Southeast Asia was breathtaking, Loas was less touristy than the other countries. Laid-back people. Avatar-like scenery, with jutting green mountains. Very inexpensive.
Bolivia: The second I drove over the border from Chile to Bolivia, I could see the drastic change in scenery, and it was beautiful. Lots of culture. Beautiful sites to see (salt flats, Lake Titicaca, silver mines, etc.) Very inexpensive.

What was my least favorite place?
Unfortunately Buenos Aires takes the cake for worst place. The bedbugs didn’t help the experience, but I felt the city was overcrowded, busy and lacked uniqueness.

How did I travel around the world without a plan?
Well I did have a plan; the no-plan plan!!!! Still, everyone who intends to backpack the world should invest in a Lonely Planet Guidebook for their specific destination, which gives names of hostels, tourist information sites, and all the important places to visit in each area. I started with a one-way ticket to New Zealand and went from there! There are TONS of travelers doing the same thing, so meeting friends to move throughout a country with is easy. I swear it is!! You can work in Australia for a year until the age of 31, and many Asian countries will offer extended visas to stay there and work (at hostels, restaurants, pub crawls, etc) so if you need extra money along the way, it isn’t difficult to find. Anyone who is interested in traveling the world, should not be afraid (even though I was when I first embarked) because it is the best experience imaginable!!

What was the hardest part about traveling the world?
There were maybe 5 to 10 nights on my trip where I was alone - hadn’t met anyone to travel with or just didn’t feel like making the extra effort to meet someone. Those nights were a little lonely, but tolerable.
The other most difficult part was coming home. I know it sounds strange, but I had more culture shock coming back, then I ever had arriving in a foreign country. I guess seeing the world changes you so much that when you come home and see how good we have it here in the USA, you just cannot feel the same about the American culture. We spend $4 on a coffee, which is a fortune to a family in Cambodia. As I flew in to Orlando from Peru, leaving behind the garbage littered streets and crumbling villages, I was awed by the perfectly pruned gardens and beautiful homes I saw out my window. Most Americans have no idea how lucky they are, and I was filled with gratitude for my life, but sadness for people's lives around the world.

Who were my most memorable people?
Mick from Australia - Duh!! He was my boyfriend for 6 months! I miss my Ozzie!
Rego from England - Even though Rego sleeps late, drinks a lot, and rarely eats regularly, we made great traveling companions!! I miss me ol’ English fruit!
Julie and Lasse from Denmark - When they first met me in Australia, they swore I was drunk. They later learned that I am just crazy. I am actually seeing Julie in NYC in a couple of weeks, which is really exciting!!
Jessie from Australia - She was my roommate through Bolivia and Peru, and I just LOVE this girl!
Metro the Busdriver from New Zealand - He made my 4 weeks in NZ the best!!

Not that any of these people read my blog, but I also loved meeting John from Miami, Karin from Germany, Jodie from Australia, Paulette, Anita and Kate from Tasikoki animal rescue, Stevie from New Zealand, Mel from Canada, Brian from Denmark, Toby from Germany, Mike & Emma from England, Nicki from Holland, Jasper & family from Holland, Don, Derrick and Richard from America, Matt E. from England, Craig from England, and soooooo many more. I now have friends I can visit all over the world!!

What was the price of my trip?
Vaccinations $300
Clothing/Gear $800
Flights $4,000
Other $24,900
TOTAL APPROXIMATE COST FOR TRIP: $30,000 (about $75 per day)

What was the cost?
More wrinkles
A new oval shaped motorbike burn on my right calve
A gap on my resume!

Would I do it again?
In a heartbeat!!!!

What’s next?
I have decided that the last thing I want to do is let the travel bug fly out of my system just because it’s “time” to settle down, so I have decided to save up for another big travel trip. This time it will be to Africa for a 71-day Safari from Nairobi to Capetown with an extra week to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, and an extra month to volunteer at an African school. I am planning on leaving in January 2012, exactly 2 years after my initial departure, and returning home in May 2012. In between now and then I will be working my butt off to save up enough money to fund this African Adventure!!!!!


THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR KEEPING UP WITH MY TRAVELS. I HOPE YOU TUNE IN FOR MY NEXT ADVENTURE. AFRICA 2012!!!!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Speed Vacationing in Peru



Gap Tours doesn't mess around when it comes to jamming entire countries into small amounts of time. I have been so non-stop for the last 2 weeks, that most mornings I wake up having no idea where I am. Albeit I wanted this fast pace trip, because I finally come home in just 7 short days and, of course, I wanted someone else to do all the work (that someone is Alim, our Peruvian tour guide.) Gap has also introduced me to some amazing people, including Jesse my Australia roommate and John, my fellow American who reminds me an awful lot of my cousin Robbie (we are always getting into trouble.) Although most days I feel more like a tourist than a traveller, for anyone who wants to see the world with the typical America's two-week vacation, a tour is the way to go.

Peru is the land of plenty. Although rich in natural resources and major tourist attractions, they still struggle economically, falling victim to governmental corruption. One town in Peru, Arricipa, is so rich in copper that they desperately want their independence, and have gone so far as to create their own currency and legal system, but of course it has never been formally granted. To hike Machu Picchu 4,000 - 5,000 tourists a day pay $50 USD each, but only 2% of that $200,000 a day comes back to preserve the site (after both Lima and Cusco take their cut.) While Peru sells low-cost gallons of natural gas to Canada and the US, they charge their own citizens about 10times that amount. From what I hear, unfortunately, there aren't many Peruvians that actually want to be from Peru. Needless to say, I have loved it so far; it is truly an amazing country.

Our first stop in Peru was to Lake Titicaca. Besides it having a very funny name, it is the largest navigatable lake in the world, with impressively large islands and rich in ancient history. Our first stop was to stay the night with a local family on one of the islands.
We hopped off the boat and walked to the center of the "town", first playing a game of football with the locals (where I nearly died from overexertion in the altitude), and then met our new "mama's and papa's". My new daddy happened to be a 16 year old boy, who brought us back to his small clay hut, where Jessie and I played spoons (a fun card game) with him and his siblings all afternoon. That night we all dressed up like the local people (4 layers of colorful skirts, a cumberbun/corset, black jacket, and a hat your grandpa would wear) and went to the dance hall, where I was aptly nicknamed "payasita" by the locals, which means little clown.

From there we travelled back to Puno, where that night we ate Guinea Pig (its little cooked head and teeth were pretty gross, but it basically tasted like deep fried skin), and then early the next morning headed to Cuzco.
Cuzco is the historical capital of Peru, described as the "Rome of America", and hundreds of years ago was the heart of the Incan empire. With cobblestone streets and a duomo cathedral in the center of town it was an amazing place to spend a couple of days. After a cancelled plane ride to the Amazon Rainforrest I did an afternoon ATV ride through the Peruvian mountains, which ended up feeling more like a game of Mario Kart, as we raced through patches of mud and I nearly got driven off a cliff .


The next day we finally got a cleared flight to the Amazon, and after a bus ride, boat ride, and long walk through the forrest, we arrived at our resort. Despite having no outside walls, no ceilings between rooms and no hot water, the place was high class. The highlights of our two day adventure included pirrahana fishing, a hike through the jungle at night (seeing a massive tarantula, lots of frogs and other bugs), and having spider monkeys right outside my window.


The Lares trek is the "alternative" mountaneous hike to the Inca Trail since unfortunately, the Inca trail is closed for the entire month of February. Almost instantaneously I realized our guide was angry at the world (he kept telling me I asked stupid questions and yelled at me like an angry grade school teacher when I made noise during his 20 hour speeches), but that our porters were amazing; they would set up our camp and tents, then break it down quickly and run ahead of us to have our next spot set up, and in the mornings serve us hot tea in our tents!!
Here is my summation of the Lares Trek: knee-deep mud, rain ponchos, mountains, high altitude, lots of llamas, amazing food, and lots of laughs. After the trek I even had to throw out my 3 month old sneakers, and a pair of socks. Disastrous!


Last, but cetainly not least, was my visit to Machu Picchu. After a night in the town of Aquas Calientes (which literally means hot water), where there ironically was no hot water in the showers at our hotel, we took our 4am bus (with thousands of other people) up to the top of the mountain where the Incas built their civilization 600 years ago. We luckily had the best weather EVER and since it is actually quite big, it never felt overcrowded. Hands down the most amazing sight I have ever seen!! I cannot believe I will be home in less than a week!!

Friday, February 4, 2011

3rd World Country, 1st World Experience



I can just picture the look of dissapointment on the face of a Miss World contestant when she is told she is the second runner up, which is a fluffy phrase they use so they don't have to let her know that she is actually 3rd place; not first, not second, but dream-breaking 3rd. When it comes to countries, the western world decided to give these same rankings, based on economic development and quality of life, but inadvertantly put into the publics mind that certain countries are just not good enough; the world's second runner up. If I were a judge, I would change the criteria adding culture, character and charisma. It seems the more "economically developed" a country becomes, the more they lose their own culture; the "better" the quality of life becomes, the more they end up just like any other Western world. I was only in Bolivia for 10 days, but it didn't take long for me to realize how spectacular and different a 3rd world country can be. I never felt I was getting the real "South American" experience in Argentina or Chile - they were expensive, people dressed in western style clothes, and you could find a MacDonalds in most cities. Bolivia is culturally different, the local people wear very traditional clothing (top hats, large skirts and multiple layers of colorful wool), the houses are made of mud and straw, and exotic foods and spices are sold on every corner. It may be considered a 3rd world to western cultures, but it is first world in my book.


It is hard to imagine a city that covers an entire valley, with houses perched from the highest peaks to sky scrapers lining the bottom, all of this at a staggering 3,630 meters above sea level - but this is La Paz. It has the feel of a chaotic Asian city with pushy street sellers (selling everything from trinkets to help you find a husband to baby Llama fetuses), a constant stream of beeping vehicles and people everywhere. The rich people live in the valley's center (because they pay more for their oxygen) whilst the poorer people live at the highest altitudes. For the first two days in La Paz I swore I had a brain tumor, as I would wake up in the middle of the night with excruciating headaches, but this is unfortunately just a side affect of altitude sickness. While in La Paz I visited the town center (and stumbled onto a speech being given by the President), took a tourist bus, went to the valley of the moon (not to be confused with the one in Chile - this one is basically large sand spires that you walk through), and haggled with the street sellers for some Alpaca clothing.

After meeting the members of my gap tour (three Ozzie girls, two Scottish guys and one Dutch guy), we flew to Sucre, "the white city" and historical capital of Bolivia, which hundred of years ago was so wealthy from the nearby silver mines, it economically outranked London and France.
After a quick city tour we headed to the markets where we bought up large quantities of toothbrushes, diapers and other miscellaneous items, and spent the afternoon at a local orphanage. The following day I subjected myself to a full 4 hours of mountain biking, which offered beautiful views, but really just left me itchy from the constant vibration, and tired from the 1km uphill bike.

From Sucre we headed to Potosi, with a staggering altitude of 4,070m, where locals still work in silver mines dating back to the Spanish colonial era. Unfortunately it is quite a sad lifestyle, as I saw in the amazing documentary "The Devil's Miner", and witnessed first-hand on a mine tour, where you will see children as young as 11 working in the dark and dust filled caves.
The Bolivian people are very religious and although they believe in Jesus Christ outside of the mines, while underground they worship the devil, making offerings and sacrifices to devil statues found in every mine. The best part of the mine tour was that I got to hold dynamite and amonia nitrate which we gave as a gift to the miners in addition to cigarettes, alcohol and coca leaves (the starting product of cocaine, which the miners chew ALL day long for extra energy.)


Our next stop was to Uyuni, a small, dusty town, which is the jump-off point for the famous Bolivian Salt Flats. The following day we headed out in our convoy of 4x4 vehicles stopping first at another train cemetary and eventually ending up at breathtaking salt flats. White salt and perfectly reflected sky on the flat water (since much of the flats were flooded) stretched out as far as the eye could see. Traditionally people use this scenery to take depth manipulated (and ridiculous) pictures, which of course I did too!
That night we slept in a guest house made entirely of salt; the walls, the floors, the tables and even the beds. We spent the next two days touring the 5,000m scenery including spectacular lagoons, snow-capped volcanoes, desert flats and even some geysers. After a long exhausting trip we hopped on a night bus back to La Paz. Although the trip was only supposed to take 9 hours, in traditional Bolivian style, the trip took about 20 hours, as we had to sleep overnight next to a river that we weren't able to cross in the dark.

I have been in Peru for the last 2 days with a new gap group, (and a 1 day rendevous with Mick!!) and it has been amazing so far. I will post about my Peruvian adventures in a week or so!!

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Adios Chile







Chile stretches 4300KM long, over half the continent of South America, longer than the length from Canada to Mexico, but in most places is only 175KM on average in width. It ranges from glacier fields to the driest desert on the earth, with volcanoes, lakes, valleys, geysers and islands in between. We started off our time in Chile hiking mountains in the freezing area of Patagonia, and finished in the Atacama Desert. It was an amazingly diverse country with very religious people (70% of the country is Catholic) which means lots of churches, confusing road signs, amazing food, and some hysterical images I cannot forget - like the 3 story children's slide at the playground, a telephone pole in a quarry where instead of readjusting the direction of the wires they just dug around the pole, huge christmas trees made out of plastic bottles, a skyscraper that looks exactly like an old Zach Morris cell phone, and llamas walking on the beach. Since I pretty much saw everything there is to see in Chile, I don't think I will be returning in my life, but it certainly was a memorable adventure - it will be missed.

Santiago Chile, is a city I could live in, and a great place to spend 4 days. The architecture is beautiful, the streets are clean, there are several amazingly cute suburbs and the people are friendly. Our hostel, Casa Roja, had a pool, hot tub, and my favorite, a ping pong table where I was able to showcase my talents (and whip Mick's butt each and every time.) We spent the first day cleaning out the van and giving it back (yipee) and hanging around the hostel. The next day we did a "free" walking tour (which after tipping turned into a not-so-free tour) and that night we ate Mote Con Huesillos - a liquid meal the Argentinians love, consisting of peach juice, a half of peach and whole grains of wheat (which was surpringsly tasty.) We took a tour of one of Pablo Neruda's eccentric homes and took a ride to the top of the mountain overlooking santiago for sunset.

The following day we took a bus out to Valparaiso, described as the cultural center of Chile, I would have called it the sketchy center of Chile, or at least most of it.
Since it used to be the main port down the Pacific coast (before they built the panama canal) the "old section" is amazing, and not surprisingly a UNESCO protected site. It is littered with Ascensors (outdoor elevators people used to use to climb up the huge hill which overlooks the bay, and is now ussually used by tourists), clock towers, markets and in the center of town a lot of people looking like they wanted to steal my purse.

We signed up for a 6 day tour to Chile's Atacama Desert, which started the following day, in a white minivan with 6 other international passengers. I was of course, the only American, to which someone said after they heard I have been travelling for a whole year, "how unAmerican of you!." Our first destination was the beachtown of La Serena, Chile's second oldest city, where we ate Empanadas and Mick took a quick dip. That night we headed to the local observatories, where stargazing is at its best, and where you will find the RLT and SLT ("creative" acronyms for Really Large Telescope and Super Large Telescope.) We got to take some amazing pictures of the moon through one of the telescopes and learn about a website where you can stargaze without ever leaving your computer screen - www.stellarium.org.

The next day we travelled hours through the bleak sandy landscape, stopping to see a 4 story ceramic hand planted in the desert by a famous artist (whose name I can't remember), an old cemetary located next to an abandoned nitrate mine (where you can still see flesh on the 70 year old remains because of the lack of humidity), and a "train cemetary" where people left perfectly good trains because the Germans discovered an artifical way to make nitrate. After two nights in the beautiful beach town of Bahia Inglesia, we headed to San Pedro de Atacama, A "brown town" (all the buildings seem to be square and brown) in the heart of the desert. We toured the "valley de luna" (an area which is said to look like the moon), a lagoon where flamingos hang out, and swam in a salt lake which causes you to have such boyances that its like having a life preserver attached all over your body when you jump in.

Mick and I are currently in La Paz, Bolivia. Tomorrow I head off on a 30 day Gap tour through Bolivia and Peru, while he is heading north directly. We hope to meet up again in Lima for a couple of days before I head back home, but in the mean time, I will miss my favorite travel companion!!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A Mobile Home for the Holidays


Having spent the last 27 Christmases of my life, toasty warm in a family member's home, surrounded by colorful decorations, festive music, and a winter wonderland outside, the view of a trailer park from the window of my van was definitely a change. Luckily I had skype so my electronic floating head could still speak to my nephew Pierce while he opened his gifts, back in his warm living room in Washington CT. I had a love/hate relationship with our Wicked two-seater camper van. The van allowed Mick and I to tour southern Chile and Argentina, and cruise with true freedom through Chile's lake district, the island of Chiloe, and to the coast, before heading to Santiago. We could stop when we wanted to take a picture, leave cities whenever we wanted, and never had any roommates. On the down side, everything we owned was under where we slept so you had to rubix-cube everything to find what you were looking for (which resulted in one blood blister and a lot of cursing), we spent a lot of money on gasoline and food to stock up the van, and let's be honest here, I drove Mick crazy with my horrible front seat driving. But it was an experience of a lifetime, doing things I have never done before, like driving in South America (3 times down one way roads), picking up hitchhikers (6 total!), pulling up to the house of a native Chilean family and living with them for two days, and getting honked at all the time (because apparently the spanish writing on the back of our car said "honk if you like my driving", which until I figured it out, gave me severe road rage.) In the end, I think the freedom was worth the price, but I will be sure to be stationary for Christmas next year!

After 4 days in Ushuaia, the "fin del mundo" (end of the world), which included a boat trip into the Beagle Channel (where while there weren't any canines, there were lots of other wildlife), a day hike to the national park and a day spent touring the Maritime museum (because Mick loves boats as much as my father), we headed to Punta Arenas, Chile to pick up the van.
From there we did a solid two days of driving, taking three hour shifts, arriving in Barlioche, Argentina on Christmas Eve. The central region of Argentina and Chile (not coincidentally known as The Lakes Distrcit on the Chilean side) is picturesque, with beautiful blue lakes, surrounded by snow capped mountains (but most are actually volcanoes!) Each town emminates the feeling of a Swiss ski village, with quaint shops and log cabin bungalows and hotels. In Bariloche we had our Christmas dinner at a fondue restaurant, watched a movie on my laptop, and went to bed.


From Bariloche we headed a couple of hours west to Villa la Angostera, which had a similar feel to Bariloche but was all encompassed in a one street town. Here we did a 24KM hike into the Parque Nacional Los Arrayanes to see the forest of arrayane trees, which basically look like trees in camoflague, and we sat on the shores of the beautiful Lago Nahuel Huapi. Entre Lagos was just over the border into Chile, and at this point huge volcanoes were so common, they nearly faded into the background.
We spent two days here, camping by a lake and one day at the thermal pools. Much to my dismay, we spent an afternoon fishing, and even though I didn't want to go in the first place, I was the only one who brought home a Salmon to eat for dinner (much to Mick's dismay.)

After a full day drive through the mountains, and some large cities (for Chile) like Puerto Varas and Puerto Mott, we pulled onto our ferry heading to the Island of Chiloe. The humble Chilote people were never an ally of the mainlanders, so their culture is unique. The island is well known for its numerous inglesias (churches) made completely of wood (some of which are over 200 years old), fishing villages and curanto (a dish of poultry and shell fish vapor-smoked in giant leaves and moss.)
We decided to immerse ourselves in the culture by staying the night with a local family through Chiloe's agrotourism program. At 9:30 in the morning we pulled up to one of the homes on our list, and were greeted by Jardi, who we later referred to as Papa. He brought us into his home, sat us down, and woke up Mama. They chatted in Spanish to us at light speed, and we did the best we could to make conversation. Mick, who knows zero spanish, became the family joke because he would always smile and say "no entiendo", which means "I don't understand." Jardi took Mick into town to buy a sheep, while I stayed with Mama and their daughter Carol to cook lunch for 5 other tourists coming later that day. We couldn't have felt more at home after two full days with our new Chilean family, where we helped them cook a curanto, move the cows to different paddocks, and even spent New years Eve with their family being kissed by more people than at my own family events!! The highlight of the stay was when Mama Maria told Mick that when he had been saying what he thought meant "I want a little" he had actually been saying "I want a little penis." Probably one of the funniest (and finally clear) moments between 4 people who has so previously struggled to understand eachother!!

After 4 nights in Chiloe, we headed northwest to Baldivia, a college town, right on a lake where we took a boat ride to an old spanish fortress and watched the sea lions prowl at the fish market. From there we went directly to Pucon, an amazingly fun town located directly next to the 2,847 meter Volcan Villarrica.
When I looked up at this snow covered volcano, spitting hot hair into the sky, looming in the background of every photo, I never would have imagined I would be climbing it the next day, but I was. Although we received severe wind warnings that morning, I encouraged the other people in our group to climb anyway (because we needed 7 people to make the trek), and after some arm-twisting they conceded. The first hour was a tough hike up dirt and loose gravel (because the chair lift was closed due to the wind), and the remaining 4 hours required an ice pick to hike up the nearly vertical snow covered face, until we finally reached the summit. Being at the top of a volcano is kind of like being on the moon, minus the lack of gravity; the sulfur smelling air burns your lungs, smoke fills the air, and the rocks and molten lava are strange colors and shapes.
The views out were amazing of the neighboring lake and yet another volcano. The best part of the entire hike was the way down, where we got to slide down ice luge paths with plastic seats we had carried with us the entire way. 5 hours up, 1 hour down, and the new best way to travel. Also in Pucon I did a white water rafting trip, while Mick spent the morning fly fishing.


Our last stop before heading to Santiago (where we are now), was the coastal town of Pichilemu. Known worldwide for its left break it is a popular beach town and serious surf spot. Mick spent one day surfing while I played the role of the surfer's "beach babe", and the next day we just walked around the town. So far we are loving Chile. From here we head north to Atacama Desert and then onto Bolivia!!