TravelStream™ news feed for member ramblingrover on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/ramblingrover en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Mon, 28 Sep 2009 14:15:00 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/2/1222617600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/2/1222617600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/2/1222617600/tpod.html Mon, 28 Sep 2009 14:15:00 -0400 Hooray! Hooray! It's a holi-holiday...

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Dubrovnik, Croatia

SUMMARY This was the first time I had travelled on my own without knowing the language but at least it was Europe and only two weeks so if it all went tuts-up, it would be a simple matter of hiding in the nearest hostel until it was time to catch my plane home. Luckily it wasn't all bad and I managed to escape the city once or twice and made the most of being beside the sea when it came to enjoying the food! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I was given the following mathematical equation to solve: take a two week holiday or lose it. Three weeks and you can do something decent, but two weeks and going abroad to somewhere interesting? Not much chance there as the flights (to interesting far-off places) would take up two days, jet lag would account for another 2 either side and that leaves only 9 days to do something worthwhile. But I sneakily added "when was the last time I did something for the first time?" to the equation and summed it with a bit of research in the local library and wah-la, the answer I came up with was ... Croatia! This was the first time I'd ventured somewhere on my own to a country where I didn't speak the language. OK, so I didn't speak Portuguese when I got to Brazil but having Spanish did help me get by so it wasn't quite the same. I also decided that the size of the backpack should be made proportionate to the length of the holiday and my daypack in South America had now become my backpack for Croatia. It all started off on the Friday evening when I had my last supper, well at least until I arrived in Zagreb. I was off to Luton airport which seemed to get an average rating of 3/5 on Sleeping in Airports for sleepability. I worked it so that I would get there around midnight and the check in desk would open four hours later. My teeth went from pearly white to stained yellow from all the coffee I had but at least it got me through the night and I was first in line to board the plane. All to no avail though as despite getting the best window seat available, the whole of Europe was smothered in one massive cloud and I saw diddly-squat. So instead I just studied the inside of my eyelids and counted forty winks. So I finally arrived in Zagreb, modestly recharged, and ready to discover this new city. With me though arrived the rain so my plans for visiting the nearby mountains were scuppered. The coast was looking good and that's where I headed, my first stop being Rijeka. Early arrival necessitated and early coffee and cherry strudel and I plonked my ass outside a café to soak up the atmosphere. It was like a total mix of the senses as I tasted the comfort of the soft cushion, heard the beautiful aroma of the coffee and felt the soundwaves of the piano music wafting by.I did a bit of walking and had a look at the sights and promptly decided it was time to move on to Plitvice National Park. This park almost rivals those of Tasmania as to how clean and well maintained it was. There were walking platforms all the way around with plenty of exit points for those who had seen enough and a bus to take you back down to the entrance. As always, it was better to get there in the early morning to avoid the crowds and I managed to get a few photos without the tourist train.The remainder, apart from one day in Paklenica National Park, was spent in cities and towns which eventually all came to resemble each other after a while. If there is one thing that I have discovered on this trip it's that I'm not trained for two week trips that consist mostly of walking around cities. It's hard on the bones all that walking on concrete!!! The food did make up for it though and I gorged on loads of different seafood recipes, including cuttlefish with it's ink!Maybe I should give it another chance...some time in the future.
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Rijeka, Croatia

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Split, Croatia

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Zagreb, Croatia

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]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1218922740/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1218922740/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1218922740/tpod.html Mon, 18 Aug 2008 17:09:11 -0400 To nymphinity and beyond...

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Reading, United Kingdom

Am I travelling alone, is it dangerous? Is it lonely?Travelling alone isn't as bad as a lot of people probably think. In fact, it is quite rare to be on your own as you usually meet up with others and they generally have the same interests so you end up spending a while with them, then your routes diverge so as you say goodbye to some you say hello to others.In fact, I would almost go so far as to say travelling by yourself is better as it almost forces you to to leave that comfort zone of familiarity and go out and meet people. It also makes you more approachable to others as they don't feel so intimidated by numbers.Did I win the lottery?I wish! No, I just worked hard and saved all that sweat money to do something I had only been dreaming about until now.Which country is my favourite?None in particular, they all have their virtues and they all have their vices. Which is my least favourite?See above.What am I looking forward to most when I get back home?My own bed!What will I miss most when I finish?The friendliness of the people from the every country I have visited. Striking up a conversation with some stranger that I have never known yet after an hour feeling like they have been my friend forever. Meeting new people be they fellow backpackers or people from the country. The sense of not knowing where I will be in a week's time. Tasting new foods and drinks. All that tropical fruit that still hasn't made it over to Europe. The challenge that is travelling, waking up every morning and having to narrow down where I was by continent, country, city and hostel.What will I not miss when I finish?Living out of a backpack and having to lug it around everywhere with me.Did anything "dangerous" happen?The trip was not perfect but nothing in life is. I have returned alive so anything that did happen can't have been too serious and for anything that did go wrong, I can assure you that there are probably at least ten times as many things that didn't due to the help and concern of the locals who would always look out for me. Travelling alone may be to your advantage here as there is always someone who is ready to look after you as if you were their own daughter.Has my approach to travelling changed since I started?I must admit that if anything has changed it is my attitude to hostels and dorms. Hostels aren't generally the norm in South America so having a room to myself at a costly USD$3 (GBP£1.50) a night is a luxury I have become accustomed to and will probably find difficult to leave behind on my next trip.What will be the first meal I have when I return?I can't really say but my idea of a good day's worth of nosh after all this travelling would be:Breakfast: A big fry with beans, mushrooms, egg and sausages.Dinner: Leg of lamb with garlic &amp; rosemary, mash and roast spuds along with some healthy veg.Tea: Me Ma's homemade apple tart with vanilla ice-cream!Why did I go home?I did have the option to continue on up to Central America but I thought it deserved a trip of it's own some day. But of course, the main reason would be the obvious, funds were coming close to non-existent and so the inevitable reality was getting closer and I had to start thinking about polishing up that CV of mine again.Why did I go?I had wanted to do this trip for a long time but was afraid to go it alone so waited and waited and waited hoping I would find someone with a similar interest. This didn't happen. My conflict of interest was buying a house but as the prices were way out of my range this wasn't looking likely either. As the&nbsp;Lightning Seeds&nbsp;say, "we've got to find the time for the Life of Riley" and that wasn't happening back home so it was time to find it elsewhere.There were also three songs that inspired me to move outside the comfort zone:In third place: <i>The llama song Llamas everywhere. I think&nbsp;this explains itself!!!In second place: <i>Greenday, "Wake me up when September ends" I gave myself an ultimatum to decide by the end of September as to what I was doing. I had been dithering so much for the last three years that enough was enough and even I was bored of hearing the same record going round and around.And the winner: <i>Daniel Powter, "Bad Day" I'm sure that explains itself aswell and many out there can identify with the whole meaning behind it. It was happening everywhere and everyday and I'd had enough.Sometimes you just have to take a break from life and find out if the direction you're going in is really the one you want or if you're just being blown around by the wind with no direction at all. Imagination is the key, reality is the lock. All I had to do was find the right key.How much did I spend / What was my budget?My initial budget was an average of USD$25 (GBP£12.50) per day. This of course would change based on the country - Chile and Argentina would come out more expensive while Peru and Bolivia would come out less. All in all I managed to keep to this. To put this in perspective, it equates to only renting a room in a shared house in Reading and doesn't include things like transport or food or entertainment or anything else at all in fact and so I felt I could fully justify it as it was actually cheaper to travel than to live in the UK.What kind of things are essentials, what did I bring that I didn't need, what will I bring on my next trip?I still hold by my philosphy that you should never leave home without a sarong. It serves as so many things that I would class it as probably the most essential item in my backpack! Otherwise things are all relative to the purpose of your trip, if you're heading for the top of Aconcagua, a bikini isn't on the essentials list!Did I fall ill much? What was the worst experience / country?I must say I had a rather healthy time over here. I only got diarrhoea when I ate tinned tuna for some reason and I only got one foul cough which I suspect was due to the faulty air conditioning on the train from Brazil to Bolivia (one minute it was sweltering hot, next it was freezing cold).Have I got my next trip planned?I most certainly do, and the three others after that.In case there is anyone out there who might be tempted to join me they are the following:Central America (roughly 6 months)Africa (roughly 1 year)Asia (roughly 18 months)Eurasia (roughly 2 years)
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1181664000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1181664000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1181664000/tpod.html Sun, 20 Jul 2008 11:52:13 -0400 To nymphinity and beyond...

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Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

I will get around to actually finishing this some day!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1180368000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1180368000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1180368000/tpod.html Thu, 05 Jun 2008 16:32:59 -0400 To nymphinity and beyond...

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La Habana, Cuba

I will get around to actually finishing this some day...
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1176483600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1176483600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1176483600/tpod.html Thu, 29 May 2008 16:08:32 -0400 To nymphinity and beyond...

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Cartagena de Indias, Colombia

SUMMARYCrossing the country in an X formation I saw lots of variety in landscape and people - from Leticia (jungle), Cartagena (colonial city by the sea), Santa Marta (access point for Ciudad Perdida [the Machu Picchu equivalent in Colombia]), Bogotá (the capital), San Agustin &amp; Tierradentro (archaeological sites) and Ipiales (border to Ecuador with an interesting cathedral). The trek to Ciudad Perdida proved to be far more interesting than the jungle trip in Peru and the country as a whole was just fantastic. ************************************************************ ****** Once upon a time way back when my trip was a mere scribble on a piece of paper, Colombia wasn't part of the plan. "Me Ma" gave me full permission to go solo if, and only if, Colombia didn't feature on the list of places to go. Oops! Although it only appeared on my map as a last minute thing I was thinking about visiting it from the very start (I just didn't tell "Me Ma" this!). I asked everyone I met who had been there what they thought of it and all reports, bar one, came in positive and so I decided I was going.After catching the fast boat from Iquitos (Peru) to the triborder frontier of Brazil, Peru and Colombia I ended up in the jungle town of Leticia. Despite all reassurances from fellow travellers that it is a great country, I was a bit nervous going it alone until I met Tita and Pedro in the seats behind me. They were both heading for Bogotá which was Pedro's home town so we decided to find a place together before evening dinner and a mad rush to get flight tickets for the next day. There is no other form of transport to or from Leticia to within Colombia other than flying to Bogotá. I couldn't help but smile to myself when I met Tita. It was like a premonition of seeing myself 20 years on. Despite being a hostel owner and knowing the tricks all backpackers get up to, she insisted on doing the same now that she was the other side of the fence and would bargain everything down to twenty-five cents off dinner in the evening, for the very same reason as me - twenty-five cents could mean as much as an hour on the internet! It was good to take a break from these duties so I just settled back in my chair and learned some other tricks in the book from the expert.Soon it was time to head on and I said goodbye to them as I headed to Cartagena, the most beautiful colonial city of balconies that I had seen yet. Unfortunately, Sunday was not the day to be there as the streets were deserted and wandering around on deserted streets over this side of the world just spells trouble. So it was a hard day of sitting in the courtyard soaking up a few rays of sun listening to music while drowning my sorrows. Surely not? Sorrows? Sadly that was the case and Cartagena may be, in some way, more significant than any other city I have visited as it was there where I finally committed to buying my flight tickets home. But, I kept telling myself to look on the bright side as it meant I would get to see some more Caribbean islands and end my trip in style!So with Sunday over and tickets bought all I could think about was making a beeline for Santa Marta, the gateway to Ciudad Perdida, the Machu Picchu equivalent of Colombia. It is similar to the Peruvian site in many ways - you have to sweat a lot in order to see it (although Machu Picchu has introduced the wheel-mobile for those who are energetically challenged) and you could feature on the series 'Lost' as it is in the middle of nowhere (although Machu Picchu now has a town below to cater for the entourage of tourists). As you may have guessed by now, the big difference between these two sites is that one is not quite so well known and so there aren't as many tourists. Scratch that. You can count on one hand the number of tourists at Ciudad Perdida. Don't get me wrong, Machu Picchu is an awesome site and well worth the visit but sometimes you've just got to see something that isn't on the "been there, done that" checklist of all the tour agencies.Anyway, back to the trek. It started off from the hostel with nine of us in a jeep-come-chiva and another four following behind in a jeep. I felt like a proper tourist while everyone watched the circus go by as we headed out of town to the fringes of the jungle. It would have been nice to do this without going through an agency however access to the site is only allowed with one authorised agency in Santa Marta and boy do they take advantage of this with whopping fees! They say they distribute the money appropriately for preservation of the site and that the guides get a fair pay. In the group we had all the major nationalities (Irish, English, French, Swiss, American, Australian, Kiwi, and Dutch) and while trying to fight off the mosquitoes (not too difficult, I figured they must have been high on marijuana as they were a tad too slow to escape "The Hand Of Death") we found out some pretty interesting things about each other. One of the Kiwis had starred in "Lord of the Rings" as an Orc while another chap managed to add a night in a Panamanian jail to his checklist of "been there, done that" and another was on the support crew for Martin Strel, the guy who swam the whole length of the Amazon.Anyway, again, back to the trek. We arrived at the town and sat down to lunch before setting off. I thought it wouldn't be too bad but after just one hour I had already drank all my water (two litres) and was sweating like a P.I.G (pretty Irish girl ;-) ). Fortunately we had a water stop coming up soon so I refilled and took a well deserved break in the hope that the waterfall cascading down my back might dry up before continuing on. Our first night was beside an army camp where some of the soldiers came over later in the evening and conversation inevitably came around to asking them for photos holding the guns they brought over. The next day we passed through a local village and learnt something of their history. This village wasn't their permanent residence, it was only where people from around congregated when there was a special meeting called. Here we picked up one of the chaps who would do porter next day as the donkeys could only go so far.On the third day we reached the bottom of the stairs of one thousand two hundred steps that would lead all the way up to the fabled Lost City. These steps are cleverly disguised among the trees and rock and would be hard to spot for someone who didn't know they existed. I was tempted to count the steps but my brain had almost turned to powder I had lost so much water through sweat. Luckily the river water was drinkable this far up. After a while the steps flattened out to a wider area and I caught sight of the first circular terraced bases for the houses that once occupied these spaces. It was quite similar to Kuelap (Peru) with the bromeliads growing on the trees. Michael, Christof and I were ahead of the others and so decided to have a mini exploration of the lower reaches while waiting for them. We stopped to admire the only known "map" of the site and imagine when the last leader was led up the royal steps flanked on both sides by an assistant. This was it, I had finally arrived. And there was not another tourist in sight (well, apart from the others in my group). Every afternoon, like clockwork, the rain would arrive. While this made most people stay put under shelter, I decided to head out and see the site in it's very evocative setting perched atop a mountain in the middle of the jungle with cloud surrounding the rainforest that had slowly covered it after being forcefully abandoned all those centuries ago. And for this whole time I <i>did have the entire site to myself! Like when I worked on the Céide Fields (Mayo, Ireland) and uncovered a Neolithic chert&nbsp;scraper that hadn't been touched by human hands for over five thousand years, I just sat on one of the walls and imagined a bustling scene when the site was once&nbsp;busy with people going about their every day business. Words don't really do justice and so I have added photos instead. Then again, these probably don't do justice either. Oh well, maybe the only way to see what I'm talking about is to get out there and visit the site!There's a lot of up and down on this route and so despite Ciudad Perdida being geographically higher than Santa Marta on the coast, the journey back is no easier than the one there. With all the rain, the route had turned to pure mud. All the poisonous snakes and scorpions we had seen on the way there obviously didn't like it and decided to have a duvet day and so, apart from being knee deep in mud, it was pretty uneventful.Back in Santa Marta I had a large, one litre, juice waiting for me. One dollar here buys you the most massive, refreshing, natural, exotic hunk in a mud hut, oops, I mean juice, you could ever imagine. And so I sat down to enjoy one while hearing all the stories of the men being offered services by the locals for a mere ten dollars in the plush location of the outdoor loo.&nbsp;Next up was Bogotá, a charm waiting to be discovered. Like many capital cities, as a tourist, you keep to the tourist zone and leave with a great impression. Stray outside of it and you might not be leaving at all. I didn't get to meet up with Tita and Pedro again but I did get to see the cobbled streets, beautiful buildings, museums and even cows munching on grass only two blocks away from the hostel I was staying at which was in the centre of the tourist zone. And I managed to leave it alive with the other two major archaeological sites, San Agustin and Tierradentro, next on my busy itinerary. The road to these sites are perilous and your life may be threathened...according to the Lonely Planet (aka Book of Lies). Having been there now I would say the worst thing that is likely to happen is that your bag will end up being covered in dust from the bus journey between the two sites. San Agustin is known mostly for it's stone statues that belong to the ancient culture of the same name.&nbsp;It is a&nbsp;most interesting village at the end of a bus line. The hostel I stayed at had no electricity&nbsp;and their water tank was only filled once every four days. Thankfully my insides were cooperating and I didn't have to visit the toilet too many times resulting in a limited water supply! Tierradentro was on a similar vein. It did have electricity but sometimes it would be cut off and the candles would come out again. On a bad day, there would be no juice (the juicer needed electricity) and no dinner (the restaurant worked on gas and the gas supply man was overdue) but you would always manage to get something somewhere as they wouldn't let you starve!Tierradentro is home to the only underground tombs in the whole of the Americas. I hadn't met any other tourists and so had to walk between the sites all by my lonesome. I think I must have started a bit too early as the guards were still having a natter down at the entrance. "Go ahead, the chap with the keys will be up in about ten minutes". Half an hour later I was still admiring the view from Alto de Segovia. It felt like I was the only tourist in the whole of Colombia as I didn't meet another foreigner that day. The village vibe got to me and I decided I was in no hurry, so I&nbsp;stayed another day. On my way to visit&nbsp;Alto del&nbsp;Aguacate (which translates to&nbsp;"avocado hill", the significance of which still escapes me as I didn't see a single avocado tree on my way up!),&nbsp;what should I see in front of me but another tourist! It was Darren, all the way from Adelaide (Australia). We got chatting, when we could, between wheezing for breath with the altitude. That evening, Darren decided to take the plunge and got a tattoo, done most&nbsp;professionally by the younger locals,&nbsp;after which we had dinner by candlelight and then ended the evening with chicha by the roadside with&nbsp;the older locals. I couldn't stop&nbsp;chirping on about San Agustin and so convinced him to head that way and then onwards to Ipiales via Pitalito. Oops, I don't think he will ever forgive me for that!By now, I was counting my last days in South America like a prisoner on Death Row. It was my last day in Colombia which led to my last border crossing in South America which led to my last week in South America. And after visiting the Otavalo market for a second time, it was my last bus journey in South America. It was sad to admit that my journey of sixteen months that had taken me through all but three countries in the South American continent was now coming to an end. Luckily though, I had some fantastic company for my last night on the continent as despite the trauma, Darren had made it to Quito alive. After spending the day visiting&nbsp;"Mitad del Mundo" (aka the&nbsp;tacky touristy site they have made on the equator line)&nbsp;and we headed out to see what the city had to offer. I finally fell into bed with only three hours of beauty sleep left before I had to get up again for the first of my many flights home.COLOMBIA"Oooh no", I hear everyone say, "not Colombia, the land of terrorists and kidnappings". Well, let me put this straight. It is no different to any other country in South America, keep your wits about you, don't act like a stupid tourist, be sensible and things are more likely turn out fantastic! Like cheese though, sometimes you get a mouldy one that ruins the day but that can happen anywhere, Peru, Venezuela, America or even Reading (UK) and so you rant and rave for a day, file it away and forget about it. Nothing ever stays the same and for all the image Colombia has on the worldwide news, I didn't see any of it.&nbsp;InsteadI met two fantastic people who invited me to stay at their place in Bogota and came out alive.I accepted fruit and drinks from people and wasn't drugged.I walked around cities, towns and villages on my own and wasn't kidnapped.I didn't get stopped by a fake cop and have my passport stolen.Don't get me wrong, this is not to say it doesn't happen. It does. But it is as likely to happen in Colombia and it is anywhere else. So if you ever have the opportunity to visit Colombia, take it and you will enjoy it.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1169229600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1169229600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1169229600/tpod.html Sat, 03 Nov 2007 12:13:28 -0400 To nymphinity and beyond...

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Puerto Williams, Chile

SUMMARYI visited Isla Navarino which is actually further south the the well marketed "southernmost city in the world" Ushuaia in Argentina and did a trek to the southernmost lake in the world. Snow fell hard, it was windy, it was wet, it was freezing cold. Then the day I left, it was beautifully sunny - quelle surprise! But I did manage to celebrate being at my southernmost point on the continent exactly a year after I landed on the continent at my northernmost point in Venezuela.************************************************************ In the words of Janice of Friends fame: Oh.. my.. God!". Torres del Paine was a walk in the park compared to trekking on Isla Navarino! I had wanted to head over here originally for New Year's Eve but we all know by now that I usually end up enjoying places too much and fall behind schedule too often! As it turns out, this wasn't a bad thing as I ended up going with two people I had met while doing the Torres circuit - Claudia (the one with the 50/20 vision for spotting cairns and markers) and Omer (the one with snow ploughs for legs).Day 1After a whole week of rest and relaxation I boarded the DAP propeller plane in Punta Arenas with seventeen kilos of luggage. The allowance is only ten kilos so I had all my lines prepared and had got the eyelid fluttering down to a tee. I was sorely disappointed not to have used a single line though as the lady at the check-in just waved my bag through without batting her eyelids! I figured this must be why they charge tourists more, especially on the way to the island.The plane ride reminded me of one of my first flights between the UK and Ireland. It was a propeller plane and the turbulence was nasty. I wondered what would happen if the elastic band they used for take off suddenly snapped??? I arrived safe and sound but almost died of shock when I saw a familiar face waiting on the tarmac to greet me at the airport. I hadn't been greeted at an airport since I last flew home from the UK to Ireland way back in October 2005! Omer had left two days before me and did all the groundwork for the walk we had planned. As it turns out, our plans had metamorphosed from doing just the southernmost trekking circuit to visiting the southernmost lake in the world to go fishing for the tastiest southernmost trout in the world. We also decided we were going to start the next day. This would be a nice surprise for Claudia who was arriving on the boat from Punta Arenas early next morning.Day 2Claudia arrived at the hostel in the morning and after some waiting around we finally managed to sort out the necessary gear for the trek and set off at about three in the afternoon. We became four when Dude, no wait, Woof, no wait, Pooch decided to join us. The poor dog must have had an identity crisis as we kept calling him by any one of the three names. This trek is somewhat less frequented than the Torres del Paine one and so the markers aren't quite as reliable. This we realised on our very first day when we managed to lose the trail towards the end of the day. I was confident though that we would have no problems being spotted if we had to be rescued as I had just bought a new pair of bright orange boots. All I had to do was stand on my head and wave my feet around and any helicopter within a five mile radius couldn't possibly miss them! By nine at night we decided it was time to pitch the tents and chose a site beside an ex-beaver lake for the night. Day 3Sometimes life's subtleties can just pass you by and this happened on our first night when it snowed. We thought nothing of it as we packed up in the morning and headed off for the lake thinking of the tasty trout we would have for dinner that evening. Finding the start proved a bit difficult, but we looked to see which way Woof wanted to head and followed him as he seemed to know where he was going.The walk was a mix of everything you can imagine and can be compared very well with an assault course! These pesky beavers have gnawed away so many trees that we were either clambering over, under or traversing one with soggy bog below waiting to catch anyone unlucky enough to slip and fall. By the end of the day when we finally arrived to our final destination we had become professional bog walkers! (Ed: The beavers were introduced to the island originally for their pelt but have since become a pest causing widespread destruction all over the island).Walking on bog proved to be just as difficult and tiring as walking on fresh snow or soft sand so imagine my delight when I saw a cabaña standing there with a stove and indoor bed waiting there for me?!! Not only that, but it was free. And the people who had been there before us kindly left us some firewood to start the next fire. I suppose I should be grateful to the beavers for making wood collection relatively easy. All that was missing was the magic porridge pot and I could have stayed here forever!Day 4I do remember saying in Venezuela that normally I wouldn't go fishing. I also remember saying in both Venezuela and Peru that I wouldn't go trekking again if I had to carry everything myself. It seems, yet again, that I haven't been listening to myself. I had to have a change from the all-too-familiar "what shall we have for dinner tonight then, rice or pasta?" and there were no hunks in mud huts here to carry my fifteen kilos for me so I just had to do the job myself, again. There was to be no carrying of backpacks this day as we were staying at the cabaña again that night. The whole day would consist of a late rise followed by a spot of fishing, a bit of lunch, some more fishing and then din dins. Woof got bored of sitting around and attached himself to two others that were leaving that day. On the whole trek, we only saw three people which really does make it "off the beaten trek".We had a five star dinner that night, baked trout au garlic with potato au mash. No rice or pasta this night as the Fish God was on our side and gave us three fat trout to keep us happy. Initially it looked like we might have a bit of a problem cooking the fish but after hunting around the cabaña, while pondering the well known question "how do you fit a circle into a square?", we came across some tin foil. Omer came up with the answer to the circle/square dilemma in the form of "bang bang, wahla" and the formerly circular pan was now square and fitted inside the stove!Day 5With it being a nice day, we decided to stay another day at the cabaña. The Fish God seemed to be in a bit of a playful mood and while it seemed I was on the point of catching a fish, instead of it coming out, I fell in! Boots 'n' all! Even my brand new, bright orange boots didn't hold up to the plunge and quickly became wet. I hoped the Weather God's unusually pleasant mood would hold out until they dried!Then along came chance number two. This time I was better prepared but the Fish God obviously decided we had reached our quota and could have no more and right in front of me Mr Trout took a leap and jump back into the water, laughing. So close, yet so far. All I could think was "what if" and dedicate this to him:If you're lucky enough to catch a fishThen pull him in real hastyCoz I let my one slip awayAnd he sure did look real tastyDay 6Unfortunately our time at the cabaña had to come to an end and we had to head off again. It was a difficult start to the day as we had a steep one thousand metre climb after trudging through bog for an hour. It seems Omer had heard of my quest to find a hunk in a mud hut and being the gentleman that he is, took it upon himself to fulfill the role as best he could. My new found hunk in a wud [sic] hut offered to carry most of the food up this wee incline and yet despite being quite a few kilos heavier he still managed to get to the top before both Claudia and I!The Weather God must have been jealous though as his mood had turned again and it started to snow. We reached our first pass from where we were supposed to see Cape Horn but with the wind blowing a gale and the white out from the snow there wasn't much chance of this happening.The worst was yet to come. We had somehow managed to lose our way and could see no more cairns or signs on the rocks. Rather than continue on blindly we thought it best to head back to the last marker and put up the tent until the snow cleared, at least a bit. It took us longer to put the tent up than it would to boil an egg in a frozen lake! You really have to ask if the people who come up with the tent designs have ever tried them out.We somehow managed to get the tent up and waited for the snow storm to abate by which time I figured I am a bit like litmus paper, when it's hot my face goes red and when it's cold my hands go blue. My hands had completely lost all feeling by now and it took about ten minutes for them to come back to life. Eventually the storm calmed down for a while and after changing into drier clothes we did a reconnaisance mission to find the route. It would seem the sign had fallen and someone had put it back on the wrong way. So having found the route, we decided to press on as it was exposed with no shelter and nothing but rock where we had pitched our emergency tent. Some hours later, we found a sheltered spot by a large beaver lake and decided that would be our home for the night.Day 7Realising that his subtle hints were going unheard, the Weather God decided to spit it out. Literally. In the form of more snow. In fact, he dumped over one foot of snow overnight! It was still snowing in the morning and continued to do so all day. The tents were completely covered so much so that you could hardly see them. It didn't look like it was going to stop so we we really had no choice but to head on and see if we could find somewhere further on that may not have been hit by the snow. By now, "It's the end of the world as we know it" by REM had become my Joe Simpson "Brown Girl in the Ring" song (you have to have read the book "Touching the Void" or seen the film to get the context but suffice to say it was when his mind wasn't 100% after having a very hard time trying to get out of a crevasse).How foolish to think there would be an oasis of snowfree sunshine somewhere nearby! When we arrived at the spot where we had planned to camp, after crossing three passes and crawling along knife edge precipices with precarious rocks covered by fresh waist high snow, we decided we had had enough. We took up the "3 for 1" offer and did three days in one to get back to Puerto Williams via the lower route in the hope that the snow might eventually disappear. By nine that night we had arrived back at the hostel where we handed all our wet clothes over for washing and put our boots in front of the stove to dry.Day 8Ah yes, the oul' comfortable bed again. I couldn't bear to think what another night up in the mountains would have been like as down in Puerto Williams it was non-stop rain all night. After talking to some people it would seem this was the heaviest summer snowfall they had seen in the last twenty years!Claudia was heading on to Ushuaia to try the mountains on that side of the Beagle Channel while Omer and I decided we would try our luck to see if we could change our return flight to an earlier date. I wasn't hopeful as the earliest I got when booking it was in three days time. But life is full of surprises and they had two spots for the next day so we quickly snapped them up.Despite the damp weather this day was a day for celebration. It was exactly a year since I arrived on the continent. And what could be more poignant? On the eighteenth of January 2006 I had arrived at my northernmost point of South America and exactly a year later I was at my southernmost point (well, almost)? So Claudia and I celebrated with some wine...Day 9And surprise surprise, the next day was absolutely stunning! Once, I would think nothing of it, twice I would think it coincidence, but three times??? Twice on my trek around Torres del Paine the weather was stunning after imbibing lots of wine and here it happened again. I have finally learnt. Next time the weather is rotten, get that carton of Gato Negro out and offer it up to the gods!Finally it was time to leave and head back to the real world. I get the feeling that Isla Navarino is my home away from home for not only did I have someone greet me when I arrived there but someone also waved me off. Claudia's boat wasn't leaving until later that day so she came to the airport to say goodbye and waved us off.NotesDead toe reportMy big toe died when doing the John Garner pass in Torres del Paine and it is still decidely dead and still doesn't feel a thing. Just in case you were enquiring after the health of my toe...Things I learntPuerto Williams was known as Puerto Luisa until 1956 when renamed in recognition of Juan Williams who captured the Magellan Strait and territories in Chile's favour in 1843. Southernmost part of the world, most people have some relation with the navy. There are Yamaná descendents also.The "peculiar" geography and rich fauna (both land and marine) of southern Patagonia encouraged the settlement of four ethnic groups with different languages and different geographic areas.AÓNIKENK (Tehuelches)Nomads and hunters of great stature. Legend has it that Patagonia got it's name from the large footprint of these people.They settled along the eastern flanks of the Andes and riverbanks following grazing pastures of the native fauna as far north as Bariloche. They learnt to domesticate the horse (which had been introduced by the Spanish) in the 18th century. With the new form of transport they expanded down to the coast of the Atlantic along the rivers. They were Guanaco and Ñandu hunters and traded their skin and feathers with the first colonists along the coast. The first westerner to live among them was George Ch Musters who left Punta Arenas in 1869 and arrived at Bariloche accompanied by various tribesmen and headsmen. The big incentives offered to business people started in 1900 in the Argentinian prairie affected their freedom to roam and the loss of nomadism and sickness due to contact with the Europeans along with a change of culture brought about the end of this culture.SELK'NAM (Onas)These were land hunters who lived on the prairies of Tierra del Fuego. Their ancestors arrived on the island at the end of the last ice age (10,000 years ago) when it was still connected to the continent by the First and Second Strait.Their customs were similar to the Aónikenk but adapted for the harsher climate. They traded with the Yamaná (inhabitants along the Beagle Channel) in the area of Ushuaia. This culture suffered a tragic and violent end.They were hostile to any advances in their territory and resisted any moves organized from Punta Arenas. They became victims to land occupation and were cruelly persecuted by hunts organized by professional assassins who were paid for every pair of ears they brought back.By 1920, only 276 Selk'nam were still living.YAMANÁ (Yaganes)These were marine nomads who travelled by canoe and lived along the Beagle Channel as far south as Cape Horn and Isla Clarence on the western end of the Strait. There was occasional contact the the Kawéskar.In 1876, Anglican missionaries arrived in Ushuaia and later moved to the Chilean territory of Isla Navarino who for the next seventy years worked to conserve and convert the group. Their demise can be blamed on plagues, venereal diseases and alcohol, all introduced by the seal and whale hunters and later by the gold rush in 1893.KAWÉSKAR (Alcalufes)They were a group of marine nomads who travelled by canoe and inhabited the islands and channels between the Gulf of Sorrows to the north and the Strait in the south. They lived by hunting wolves, seals and marine life.They lived in an area of extreme weather where the average rainfall was around 4000mm per annum, winds were of hurricane force and the water, being of glacial origin, was freezing cold.Today there are some living descendents still living in Puerto Eden. Their demise, almost complete, can also be attributed to the illnesses and alcohol introduced by the seal and whale hunters who arrived to the archipelago around the middle of the twentieth century.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1167069600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1167069600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ramblingrover/nips_trip/1167069600/tpod.html Sat, 03 Nov 2007 12:13:07 -0400 To nymphinity and beyond...

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Puerto Natales, Chile

SUMMARYWell, I almost gave up on seeing Patagonia but lucky I did go in the end as I had a great time. I spent too much time trying to get the camera fixed with no success (so excuse any out of focus photos from here on in) so flew down to Puerto Natales to save time and did the Torres del Paine full circuit of 102.5 kilometers, got treated to a spectacular view of the Torres and blown away with fierce winds over the pass.

************************************************************ After some tree hugging in Arrayanes National Park near Bariloche (unlike all other trees, the bark of the Arrayan tree is cold to touch, so I had to check it out for myself) I exited to Chile for Puerto Montt with the idea of hitting the Carretera Austral. This plan quickly went out the window as I had to see if I could get my camera fixed first. The nearest and only Canon authorised repair place for my camera was in Santiago so I had to head up that way first after many fruitless attempts with other places. Despite their insistence that they had indeed fixed it upon showing them an out of focus photo, they finally relented and admitted it couldn't be fixed. So two weeks and lots of coin tossing later, I had decided enough was enough and either I was heading north or south. Lucky the coin decided south as I met up with some rather cool people and ended up doing the full Torres del Paine circuit which is what I had always wanted to do. In order to get there for Christmas I had to break one of my golden rules and fly. I didn't feel too bad though as I had already broken it getting from Bolivia to Ecuador. They say things always come in threes so expect at least one more!From the window seat I saw the sun rays on the horizon, even at two, three and four in the morning! Yes, I was down to the land where the sun never set. Noooo, not England, Patagonia! I couldn't help but laugh as the plane landed almost right on cue to the last line of Right Said Fred's song "I'm too sexy". At least it brightened up my morning when I realised how ridiculously early it was. I decided to wait it out and get a bus to Puerto Natales, the gateway for the Torres del Paine National Park. Mike, Jun and some other fellow travellers had the same in mind so we joined up together for a strong coffee to keep us going for the next four hours until the buses started arriving.Of some of the things I have discovered on this trip one is that it is not coincidental that chance and circumstance feature highly in how things happen while travelling. As it was, I met Kara in a shop just after I had decided to do the "W" with Jun which now threw me into turmoil as I now had to choose between the "W" and the full circuit! Madness won in the end and I did the full circuit with Kara.Day 1 - Puerto Natales to Campamento Italiano - 21/12/06We boarded the bus at seven in the morning for the three hour bus ride to the park. The starting point was going to be either Campamento Pehoe after crossing bluetiful Lago Pehoe on the catamaran or administration followed by a four hour hike to get to Campamento Pehoe. The trek started as it would mean to continue. After all others had left and collected their luggage we sat there debating which to do and it kept swinging from one to the other. Finally, after the driver put the bus in first gear and was about to set off we jumped up to say we were getting out to catch the catamaran. Luckily Kara had heard of the food drop-off scheme where you can parcel some food up, hand it to one of the connecting transfers at the first stop (Laguna Amarga) along with a tip of five hundred pesos (approximately USD$1 / £0.50) and then pick it up at hostería Torres when you arrive there. Our planned date was Christmas day, so we packed in some wine and chocolate as a treat! This meant we didn't have to carry ten days worth of food right from the start.This would now be a relatively easy day with only about three hours of trekking to Campamento Italiano. It was definitely a good idea not to overdo it on the first day, after all, I hadn't done any serious trekking since Huayna Potosí in Bolivia back in August. Trading soon started when Kara asked me to fix the ties on her backpack, naturally I had to exchange the favour for a glass of wine on Christmas day. When we arrived at the campsite we were greeted by Francisco and Nicolas, the guardaparques, who allowed us access to the kitchen to cook our dinner. Nothing to do with us being two single chicks or anything! ;-) We were quickly cast aside though when Monica, the woman with thighs even more thunderous than mine, arrived!Sleep factor: 3/5Day 2 - Italiano to Los Cuernos including Valle Francés - 22/12/06What a day! It started off bright and sunny but in true Patagonian spirit changed to wet, windy, cold and miserable. The views along the Valle Francés were not the best with only the odd glimpse every now and again when the cloud lifted. We were not happy bunnies when we got back to Campamento Italiano. The idea of taking down the tents in the wet and cold was not in the slightest bit appealing but it would mean an extra long day next day to get to Campamento Torres. Yet again, debate raged and we finally agreed to head down to the next campsite, Cuernos. Things had gotten so bad that I was almost ready to give up but I decided I would give the sunrise at the Torres a try and if the weather was no better then I would cut my losses and head back to Puerto Natales. After all, I had already decided that Patagonia deserved a visit of four months by itself and so had already planned to come back here anyway, armed with my own tent, thermarest and proper sleeping bag. I got the feeling the mountains wouldn't be moving anywhere too quick!Sleep factor: 2/5Day 3 - Los Cuernos to Torres - 23/12/06We must have done something to please the weather God as it was a beautiful morning and the rain had cleared. Our spirits were lifted and we set off for the campsite just below one of the most famous and well known symbols of South America, the Torres del Paine towers. The day was so nice in fact that we even managed to have a short siesta during lunch! It was an easy day so we were in no rush and stopped off at Campamento Chileno for a few hours to enjoy the indoor warmth. There was no debate on this one as there was only an hour more left until we reached Torres Camp. The dreaded freezing mat and sleeping bag called early this night as seeing dawn over the Torres meant getting up at stupid o'clock - 4.10am to be exact!Sleep factor: 3/5Day 4 - Torres to Las Torres including dawn at the Torres - 24/12/06Hmmm, stay in bed freezing cold or get up at 4.10am, not a difficult decision methinks! So along with Jun and Kara, I headed up to see the infamous sunrise over the Torres and boy were we treated to a top sunrise! We were there only four days after the longest day in the year so we didn't get to see them fully painted red but with a stroke of luck the paintbrush did colour a small bit of them red so I was a very happy bunny. It was definitely worth having suffered all the rain from the days before to see this!We had to end our time up there as it was bleedin' freezin' with the wind howling all around and marched quickly back down to the camp to pack up with the idea of heading to Chileno for another indoor session, only it was going to be at least three hours this time. No excuses needed, it was Christmas eve and our next camp was a mere two or three hours away! We suddenly remembered our Christmas parcel and got hit hard by a sudden thirst. Thirst for wine that is! Ooooh, a whole two litres of it sitting waiting to be enjoyed! But no, we must restrain ourselves. This wine was for Christmas dinner. When we arrived at Las Torres we had a little nook at the edge of the campsite to ourselves, along with Mike and his friend Omer who arrived the same day as us. When a group of three arrived later, Kara wasn't too subtle in telling them to be quiet as we had intended on getting a good sleep that night after such an early rise. Oops! After very little debate, we decided to celebrate Christmas early and the two litres, along with another two disappeared pretty quick! Although I'm sure it was Mike and Omer who drank all of the last one as I don't seem to recall even seeing it being opened! A few apologies were needed the next day to say the least!Sleep factor: 5/5 (nothing to do with all the wine, honest!)Day 5 - Las Torres to Serón - 25/12/06Oh what a beautiful morning,Oh what a beautiful day,I've got a wonderful feeling,Everything's going my way.Good Morning Patagonia! I could smell a change in the air and it was a good one at that. Not a single drop of rain and only warm rays of sun to hit my tent on this fine morning! It was Christmas day and a late rise was definitely in order. It would be a mere four hours walk to Serón so we finally left at around one in the afternoon. There wasn't really much on this section of the walk so Kara and I decided to get into the Christmas spirit (I must have still had some blood in my alcohol) and sing some Christmas tunes as we pootled along merrily. Admittedly, when we got to the tenth day of Christmas, we were finding it difficult to remember what our true loves had sent us. I kept thinking it was a big cheque to continue my travels for another year but that may have been a little too hopeful.It was here at this campsite that we discovered that a man wasn't a man unless he was carrying over thirty kilos on his back. Doug, the Ironman man who walked on his own as noone could keep up with him, came in at thirty exactly but the winner was Chris. He had the winning rucksack weighing in at a hefty thirty-two kilos! I came in at nineteen kilos and Kara at twenty-two (well, she did have to go around with three books and a monopod that only got used once on the whole trip!). Apparently you should only carry twenty percent of your weight to be within your comfort zone. Oh dear, I seem to have lost the ability to count, nothing to do with the wine!Sleep factor: 2/5Day 6 - Serón to Dickson - 26/12/06There wasn't really much happening on this day either. I was a bit bored of not being able to sleep so I decided to go fifth gear and made it to Dickson in four and half hours and have a snooze in the afternoon. This was good!Sleep factor: 4/5Day 7 - Dickson to Los Perros - 27/12/06This would be another short day with only four hours to Los Perros. Since going fifth gear worked the day before I decided to try it again and made it to Los Perros in record time of three hours and fifteen minutes (I blame the fifteen minutes on two guys who held me up and just refused to let me pass, guess they couldn't deal with being slower than a girl!!!). Typically, just as I arrived to the camp, the rain started again. This did not bode well for crossing the pass next day. And so after much debate we finally decided that we would decide in the morning whether to cross or not.Sleep factor: 2/5Day 8 - Los Perros - 28/12/06The rain had lasted all night and by ten in the morning the ranger told us that if we were going to cross we should have left by eight at the latest to avoid the melting snow. By twelve it was all over and we decided to hold out another day hoping against all hope that things would improve. To fill in time, I headed down to see Los Perros glacier and Kara continued to practice her charm on the Guardaparque and managed to get some cake from him!By the end of the day, with all the rain that had fallen and the plummeting temperatures, I definitely didn't want to stay another night up here freezing to death so we decided we would go next day regardless. Even the MSG puma that visited me that night didn't keep me warm!Sleep factor: 1/5Day 9 - Los Perros to Paso over Paso John Garner - 29/12/06Well fancy that, I woke up to find snow on my tent! If the snow reached the camp, I didn't want to think what the pass would be like. Kara worked her charm on more people and our group enlarged to five people including Claudia, Tatiana and Dan. Five became seven when Mike and Omer decided they missed our singing too much and joined us after an hour or so. They went up front and snow ploughed the way for the rest of us with their lovely long legs (although they did seem to forget to do shorter steps for those of us who are vertically challenged, I had to get my wings out every now and again to fly between their foot marks). After what seemed like an eternity, we finally reached the pass although the view was somewhat obscured with all the snow gusting around. I had to smell my breath as I felt like I was walking around drunk, falling from side to side all the time and not being able to control it. After many attempts, I finally realised it was the wind that was doing this and not the wine from Christmas Eve. T'was a fierce one indeed, coming in at over one hundred kilometers per hour! Cold, wet, windy. Brrrr! My gloves had frozen solid, along with the fingers inside. One of my toes seemed to have died somewhere along the way. It didn't help that my boots were on their last legs and soaking wet with frozen ice-rinks inside them at this stage!Sleep factor: 0/5Day 10 - Paso to Grey - 30/12/06Leaving Paso was a joy as it would mean going downhill to warmer places. Kara's charm still hadn't reached the tender heart of the weather God and it rained again. On the way down to Grey we passed Los Guardas and heard this most thunderous blast reverberating around us. Later I heard it was actually the sound of some ice breaking from somewhere within the glacier.Eventually the weather did clear and we headed over to the refugio to have a sup or two on what may be our last night in the park. As it turned out, celebrating early had now become a tradition and we celebrated New Year's Eve on New Year's Eve Eve. It was the kind that all party people should be proud of - the staff kept coming up to us to tell us to be quiet (although they were rated as the grumpiest staff of all campsites by all trekkers I had met so it didn't worry me too much), we got kicked out at eleven and Kara even managed to twist her ankle whilst propped up by two people on the walk back to the tents. Oops, not good for a glacier walk the next day.Sleep factor: 2/5Day 11 - Grey to Pehoe - 31/12/06Yet again, another beautiful morning. I noticed a certain pattern emerging here, weather one that is. Every time we drank lots of wine, the weather was nice the next day! Obviously our offerings did something to cheer the Weather God up. While Kara did the glacier walk I strolled down to Pehoe. I was having another one of those indecisive moments, the temptation to head back to Puerto Natales for the comfort of a real bed in a room with heating and a nice lie-in or another shivering night in the park to be greeted by the Torres on New Year's Day? I was convinced of the merits of staying in the park and it was definitely the right choice (it wasn't actually that cold that night!).Sleep factor: 4/5Day 12 - Pehoe to Puerto Natales - 01/01/07Yay! Everything suddenly became easy and we only had to walk fifty metres to the catamaran pier where it would be seats all the way to Puerto Natales. The thought of a real bed and shower was just so good.We treated ourselves to a delicious steak and got a Pisco Sour on the house. In order to make the most of the beds, we decided to hit them early. Although this didn't seem to work as we had by now become habitual insomniacs. All we could do was laugh as we seemed to wake up at regular intervals at the same time. I kept pinching myself to make sure this wasn't just another MSG induced dream and that I was, in fact, actually sleeping in a warm bed.And I'm too sexy for this trek...
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