TravelStream™ news feed for member sarabanda on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/sarabanda en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sat, 29 Aug 2009 01:26:33 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1251518471/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1251518471/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1251518471/tpod.html Sat, 29 Aug 2009 01:26:33 -0400 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

The following story and photos are taken from an email sent to me recently from Ariana at Apus Peru Adventure Travel specialists - it is an update of the Andes based community project with which I am associated.

"A few months ago Apus Peru made another excursion to several Andean communities, to check on how our projects were going. H., a friend of a ex client who was the impetus behind the 2007 'Revitalising Weaving Workshops' initiative joined our group for the excursion along with our 16 year old spanish-quechua translator G. (who is the brother of one of our drivers and a translator - G have an absolute ball as it was his last week of school holidays! )

“First we climbed out of the Patacancha Valley and onto Chaullacocha school. Our purpose in the Chaullacocha school was to distribute toothbrushes, combs, mirrors and other hygiene items that make up the hygiene program in the Chaullacocha school. This was a follow up from last year when one of our clients (Sarabanda) kindly donated hygiene items. We work closely with the teachers that the children use the soap and toothpaste during school time... and are not allowed to take the items home with them. This is because, as indigenous peoples, they tend to not value possessions so they get easily lost. It’s always great to talk to the teachers and find out what also is needed - in this case they would like lice (nits) treatment and bigger towels so that when the children wash (once weekly) they can dry themselves more rapidly. So thanks too to Sarabanda for getting the hygiene project started last year with her donation.

“I've included some pictures of us distributing the toothbrushes, and oranges and there is a funny one 'the Colgate ad' which looks posed but isn't !

“From Chaullacocha we headed down the valley, accompanied by some tiny kids who were heading home from school... they were 9 and 7 and so tiny... and we got some good photos as we crossed streams and headed into the fog that shrouded Chupani.

“Next day in Chupani, we met up with weaving women that I hadn't seen for a year. We didn't get a big turnout but I was pleased that most of the people that I had photos of (from the previous year) were there and I was able to give them pictures... they were delighted. The "project peru" team might remember an extremely photogenic pair of kids (one was posed up against a rock and the other amongst the ladies). they combined for a gorgeous photo, where you can see them looking at the photo from last year...

G really got the art of translating on the second day (no mean feat for a young person) and I got a picture of him surrounded by the women before we began a 'Threads of Peru' purchasing session - injecting funds into the community... So from Chupani, we thought we had a three hour hike to the hot springs of Lares... think again.. it nearly took us six hours as we climbed over a high pass (my estimation about 4100m) - partially guided by a small group of kids - and then descended into Lares. absolutely spectacular scenery and incredibly remote as well!!!

So thank you to everyone who assists and supports the Apus Peru/ Threads of Peru projects - and who assist these communities in any way. "
Ariana -

Thank you for reading the above, please feel free to forward this Travelpod link to family and friends - And if you are interested in supporting this local community project or would like to take part in one of Apus Peru's expeditions and cultural tours - please go to
ttp://www.apus-peru.com/cultural_tours.htm
Sarabanda
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1212266340/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1212266340/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1212266340/tpod.html Sat, 18 Apr 2009 03:23:14 -0400 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Buenos Aires, Capital Federal District, Argentina

Late afternoon in Buenos Aires on the day before my return to Australia. I am staying in the same homestay apartment in the between San Telmo and La Boca districts that was base before I started out on my five weeks journey around Northern Argentina, Chile and southern Peru at the end of April.

Yesterday I finally went out and bought some tango shoes (they are a rich red in colour - when I tried them on, I felt like a cross between Judy Garland and Norma Shearer)

Last night I had farewell drinks with my hosts, Carla and Sergio and their four legged owners, Frida and Fidel and Jennifer and Peter (the two American post grad students), and -

today I will visit the San Telmo markets for the last time and maybe have lunch at the Bar Britannico..

I love spending Sundays at the San Telmo markets - where else can you find stalls selling first edition books, across the way from a stall selling old maps, across the way from a stall selling brass door handles and then turn a corner and there is another selling fine worked lace?

And there are street performers every few metres - from full tango orchestras, to mime artists, to puppeteers and jazz duos nd African rhythms.

The prime position is at an outdoor cafe in the Plaza Dorrego, near where a quartet of older dancers and guitarists have probably been captivating the tourists for the past 20 years - and you continue down to the paitners and artesans can buy amazing artworks, wood carvings, leatherwork and souvenirs..

And of course now that it is winter you cannot go past the vendors selling bags of freshly roasted nuts and just-out-of the-oven empañadas.

A perfect weekend to cap my time in Buenos Aires.

The markets of Buenos Aires and La Paz reflect the contrasting personalities of these two cities: One dominated by the river and the docks - cosmopolitan, European in culture and style while La Paz is marked by its mountains and jungles - and its indigenous heritage.

La Paz is not a city for walking around. You are either walking uphill or downhill but never very fast because of the altitude. And breathing is doubly difficult because the car fumes from the gridlocked traffic have no where to escape.

The square around San Francisco Cathedral Plaza de los Heroes, is the social and commercial hub of this city. Every alleyway, street and corner is taken up by market stalls. And everything is on sale, from handicrafts, to clothes, silver jewellery, hardware, books, students offering their letter writing and legal skills, and even a witches' market with dried herbs, potions and incense is on sale (along with Catholic icons.)

And the food stalls put a new meaning into open air dining. For a couple of Bolivianos, you can get freshly squeezed grapefruit, orange, lemon, apple or mandarin juice. Next door you can go upmarket and get exotic smoothies including avocado, papaya, cactus fruit and banana.

When my order of banana and milk was delivered to me in a huge glass jug, I asked the friendly lady behind the counter if I could have it "para llevar" or takeaway. So she poured my drink in a plastic bag wrapped around a straw!

I bought a spicy meat empañada from another stall and a sweet pastry from yet another. If I wanted to I could also order a freshly made hot barbecue chicken roll (the chicken is sliced in front of you) with a choice of salads and sauces.

When not dodging the ´´micros´´- the packed mini buses that are the main form of public transport here - you also huve to dodge the street side kitchens, and the cooks who suddenly emerge in front of you with trays set high with platters of meat and rice or bowls of steaming hot soup.

If you are looking for some entertainment while you dine - head down to a small amphitheatre nearby which provides the perfect venue for street theatre.

On the day I was there, a couple of young actors were clowning around in a piece of political satire and if the references went over my head, the crowd loved it. Not far away a middle aged man was drawing his own audience with some passionate denouncement of the Catholic Church.

And you can´t walk a few metres around here without being confronted by La Paz´s notorious balaclava wearing shoe shine boys - according to Lonely Planet, many are university students who need the cash for their studies and choose to hide their identities from friends and family - and the gangsta look is just for added effect.

I wish I had more time to explore this country, which has been my refrain throughout this whole trip. I have only travelled around a small corner of Argentina, Chile, Peru and Bolivia respectively and the experience has just whetted my appetite for more - next time I would like to add Equador (the Galapagos Islands in particular) and Patagonia which is also a stepping off point for Antartica.

I've also learnt that Bolivia is the "in" place for the ultimate in adventure travel. If you are into cycling, I have found the ride for you - a day riding the "Highway of Death". You start at a town near La Paz at a altitude of 4670m then descend down to the jungle at 2500m on this narrow road sometimes staring over 300m deep precipices. At least the cyclists no longer share the road with the buses and trucks but still the ultimate ride is just that for some tourists http://news.sky.com/skynews/article/0,,30200-1314018,00.html

Or you can inhale poisonous gases at the Potosi silver mines (tourists are encouraged to buy presents such as soft drinks, dynamite etc for the local miners. ) Not sure about this one. The thought of gawking at third world working conditions makes me feel very uncomfortable. http://www.showcaves.com/english/misc/mines/Potosi.html

I have also discovered that undertaking volunteer work on community and environmental projects is also popular - I met a group of young English women at a pub trivia night in Cusco a couple of weeks ago who were spending part of their gap year helping out a centre for abandoned children.

Which is my segue for the following announcement:

Through Apus Peru Adventure Travel, I have donated most of my 'souvenir spending money' towards helping to build a sustainable future for the isolated community of Chaullacocha in the Lares-Ollantaytambo valley, Peru.
The donation is going to the community's school - namely the purchase of towels and soap for the toilet/shower block at the school and also seeds for the new greenhouse. It's a small gift but will allow Apus-Peru and the Non Government Organisations and other international groups supporting this community focus on some of the 'big picture' projects.


If you are looking for some background on the community and the challenges they face - here are some background articles.


http://gosouthamerica.about.com/library/blPoW071209.htm
http://www.apus-peru.com/weaving_traditions.htm
http://www.worldtravels.com.au/being_able_give.htm
http://news.therecord.com/Life/article/345824
http://www.myproworld.org/projects/project_history.htm

I have asked Ariana of Apus-Peru Adventure Travel to keep me informed of the community's progress - and I can share this news with you through the final version of this travel blog or you can receive emails directly.

Anyway, must go. Next time you hear from me, I will be home.

A farewell wrap - the song that has followed around this trip - from their 1994 live concert - the Eagles and Hotel California

http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=IBJTNx5qrVU

hasta luego
Debra




]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1208998620/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1208998620/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1208998620/tpod.html Fri, 17 Apr 2009 06:02:11 -0400 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Buenos Aires, Argentina

Once upon a time, before the dreaded EEU spread its tentacles, you could create a wonderful collection of visas and stamps in your passport by border hopping across the countries of Europe. You could take part in the time honoured tradition of France for breakfast, Belgium for lunch, coffee and pastry in Luxemburg and a cabaret show in Amsterdam by midnight. A 21 day European holiday would leave you with enough coins from a multiple of currencies to help a child start their first coin collection. (And when a piece of paper featuring Uncle Sam could buy you anything on any back streets of eastern Europe - the good old days)

Those times have long past and nowadays any good back street Albanian spiv would spit on the American dollar in favour of the Euro.

At least you can still play the border game here in South America with some interesting weekend excursions. To date I have entered and departed this country three times, courtesy of playing tourist.

Last week I took a side excursion to the fascinating city of Colonia del Sacramento in the small neighbouring country of Uruguay. The historical relationship between Argentina and Uruguay is complex, just like everything else in this mad continent. Actually the following link can explain it to you much better than I can.
http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/PlainTextHistories.asp?historyid=ab40

Taking centre stage in this history is the town of Colonia. One way of discovering it is via Wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colonia_del_Sacramento .

But if you get the chance, there is a ferry service from Buenos Aires to Colonia (and the bus connection on to the capital Montevideo) which offers the choice of a three hour or a faster 50 minutes ride. Both have duty free shopping and cafe and bar facilities and first class passengers (of which I was not) have their own superior lounge. As the boat trip has nothing to offer in the way of scenery, I recommend the shorter trip.

But if the nautical side is uninspiring, the town itself is worthy of its World Heritage status. The historical quarterof the town has changed little over the centuries, Do what I did, travel during a quiet weekday, thus avoiding holidays and hot summer weekends when the Porteños invade the town in their hundreds, and you can almost have the place to yourself.

I found a bed and breakfast ($US25 a night, double with ensuite) called Posada Casa Las Pinas in a quiet street a block or so up from the port, in the historical quarter. Then, armed with a very cute and informative tourist map, I decided to explore the cobbled stone and sycamore tree lined streets whereupon I chanced upon a friendly family run parrilla restaurant called La Amistad. Soon I was sitting down to an asado of three juicy chops, a mixed salad (lettuce, onions and tomato), a basket of bread rolls, a bottle of water and the house red - I think it cost me less than $A15 for the whole meal.

If you find yourself at an South American barbecue, ask for a sample of the popular marinade and seasoning known as chimichurri http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimichurri - it certainly adds to the flavour of the meat.

Of course I couldn´t sit at the table all afternoon and at 4pm, aftering farewelling my host Jorge, I continued on my walk around the town.

Walking past the Street of Sighs (where the name comes from, no body knows, some say it is from the times when Ladies of Ill Repute plied their trade along the footpaths while others claim it is from the sighs of the condemned who were escorted through here on their way to execution by firing squad.) On a dark windy night, I think I would prefer to walk among the ghosts of the former, wouldn´t you?

On another street I chanced upon an Argentine film crew setting up for a location shoot.

The shoot was either a film or TV series "Tres Deseos" and I can think of no better location for what is probably a historical bodice ripper than Colonia. There are hundreds of secret and tragic stories in almost every house and alleyway.

Around another conrner and a conversation with a group of friendly American, Carribean and Canadians convinced me that a guided tour was the best way of discovering those secret stories. So I began looking for the tourist office near the main square. I never found the tourist office but I did find an exotic shop selling some beautifully crafted jewellery, bags and clothes. The style was more Art Deco than Gaucho but I couldn´t resist and walked away with a set of earrings that would match my flamenco costmes perfectly.

A late dose of jet lag sent me back to my room for a quiet night, spent flicking through 50 cannels of Cable Spanish TV including the Spanish CNN which was offering blanket coverage of the US Democrat primaries and the upcoming Paraguayan election.

Oh, I did score a personal guided tour the following morning with Pablo, the husband of one of the women who ran the Casa Las Pinas. But that story will better explain itself once I have downloaded the photos.

Besides, you should explore Colonia del Sacramento yourself one day.


]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1208285100/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1208285100/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1208285100/tpod.html Thu, 01 Jan 2009 21:09:02 -0500 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Buenos Aires, Argentina

The cafÃf© La Carreteria is mentioned in the Lonely Planet Guide to Buenos Aires for its cheap food and laid back bohemian atmosphere so not surprisingly you will find both foreign tourists and artists and musicians mingling here. In fact the ownerÃ'´s daughter herself is a singer (she has notices advertising her services as a teacher) and often takes up the microphone positioned permanently in one corner if she feels in the mood.  Oil paintings featuring indigenous designs from the Jujuy province http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jujuy_Province line the painted plaster walls and the cafÃf© also specialises in the spicy food styles from this region.

The cafÃf© was packed for a Sunday mid evening so I was grateful when Gustavo offered me to share his table. Aged in his 50s, casually dressed and with a pleasant face, he proved to be a friendly table companion.  He was waiting for his takeaway order of empanadas - rolled up pastry snacks which can hold anything from different meats to vegetables, creamed corn or even apple which are the staple snack foods of  many countries in South America. There are dozens of recipes on line for this delicious snack - here is just a sample:
http://gosouthamerica.about.com/cs/southamerica/a/Empanada.htm http://www.cdkitchen.com/recipes/cat/1121/0.shtml

Gustavo helped me to order my supper (empanadas and a mixed salad) and we shared a bottle of red wine while waiting (nothing is rushed in a Buenos Aires cafÃf© ) and he asked me what I was doing in South America.  Our conversation then turned to our various jobs - Gustavo works as a  fiscal lawyer  for the government. We  even started chatting about the ongoing fights between Argentine primary producers and the authorities over pricing and regulations ( now thereÃ'´s a familir woe).  Well, letÃ'´s just say I think that was what our conversation was about - my jet lag was starting to hit me. 

GustavoÃ'´s box of empanadas finally came and, being the gentleman he was, he waited till my own dinner arrived before he took his leave - farewelling me with a kiss on the cheek and an open invitation to come round for a Sunday lunch. 

CafÃf©s in Buenos Aires are the social centres for porteÃf±os - a place to eat cheaply, catch up with friends and plan protests.  Truly a sign of  a civilised nation is the richness and vibrancy of its cafÃf© culture  - a wonderful legacy of European immigration.

IÃ'´ll introduce you to a few more  famous BA cafÃf©s later - but firstly, an introduction from an expert in these things:
http://www.livinginargentina.com/famous_cafes_snippets_of_a_report-681.html

And to finish, some music from one of the greatest cafÃf©artistes of all time from one of the greates cities in Europe renowned for its cafÃf© tradition.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1221788280/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1221788280/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1221788280/tpod.html Mon, 24 Nov 2008 19:30:27 -0500 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Buenos Aires, Capital Federal District, Argentina

Perhaps it is the scent of spring and the glistening waters of the harbour as I travel each morning to work on the Parramatta Rivercat ferry. Or maybe it is the lingering tango music in my head from my weekend dance workshop. Somehow these disparate impressions are combining to remind me of travels to foreign climes.

I have had to lock up my passport and I mustn't gaze up to the skies each time I see a plane heading out; must not Google Patagonia during my free time at work; no more thoughts of travelling, for at least the next six months or so.

Still I have my tango CDs to play endlessly and I can gaze at the paintings I bought on my final Sunday at the San Telmo markets in Buenos Aires; and I can sniff the aroma of fresh made Bolivian coffee and toast my memories with several glasses of Chilean red.....

Oh well it is my birthday today and I am feeling rather skittish - reminiscing about travels past and new adventures to be had is always fun....


Meanwhile for those of you who are planning a trip to Buenos Aires in the near future - here's a wonderful way of discovering the secret history of this amazing city.

www.buenosaireshistorico.com


check it out!
ciao,
Sarabanda
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1225509780/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1225509780/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1225509780/tpod.html Sat, 01 Nov 2008 00:48:41 -0400 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

Here is a reposting of an email sent several weeks ago to my personal contacts; I have at last decided to post it on the Sarabanda travelblog:

Earlier this year I had the privilege of handing over $US200 (at a time when the Aussie dollar was in better shape) to one of the many great community projects in the Sacred Valley, near Cusco, Peru.

The donation, in lieu of my buying a swag of souvenirs for friends and extended family, went to an isolated and impoverished Andean community located away from the usual Inca trail / tourist routes. This particular community has also suffered from being caught up in the government campaign against the Shining Path Maoist terrorist group a decade or so ago.

I discovered through mutual contacts that a Peruvian based NGO had built an ablutions block at the community school. For the first time in their young lives, the children had safe sanitation - and for $200 we could buy some simple but needed hygiene items such as soap, towels and toothpaste.

Here are the photos of the children receiving the gifts - I won't name the community to protect their privacy - but I think this is a great investment.

I heard about this community project through the small Australian -Peruvian run adventure travel company company Apus Peru who organised my trek to the Qolloritty Pilgrimage in May this year. Sometime soon I will post an account of this experience.

Here's the link to the community project on the Apus Peru website and there are also links to their various treks.
http://www.apus-peru.com/chaullacocha_education.htm

'Muchas gracias', particularly to Rachel, Jasmine, Hannah, Montanna and Melanie, from their new 'school mates' on the other side of the world -

Sarabanda
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1212024300/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1212024300/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1212024300/tpod.html Tue, 24 Jun 2008 02:54:45 -0400 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Copacabana, Bolivia

If you want a place to chill out, listen to some cool Afro Latin  music and watch the water lapping at the shore - come to Copacabana.

No, not the place that Barry Manilow sang about in that 1970s hit, nor the Central Coast town either.  I am referring to Copacabana in Bolivia, on the other side of Lake Titicaca.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copacabana,_Bolivia

Compared with other South American resort destinations, Copacabana is still undeveloped, slightly off the beaten track enough to be described as laid back and therefore especially appealing to this certain traveller and her cough cough, tummy trouble, which could be described in this part of the world as ´Tupac Amaru´s" revenge.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tupac_Amaru

My decision to forgo a visit to the famous Floating Islands http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uros  or a homestay on Amantani Island was easy. Simply in my current state, I couldn´t face another day of being immersed in Peruvian food, dance, and the joys of cold water for the morning ablutions, let alone having to politely shove aside another wizened -  faced  wily  mama who wanted to sell me her handicrafts.  I know others have enjoyed the excursion and homestay but hey - tourist options are like deciding on your choice of wine. Each to their own.

That´s why I decided last Monday in Puno to take the southern shore route direct to the Bolivian side of this huge lake - (and I mean huge - as we all learnt at school,  Lake Titicaca is the highest, navigable lake in the world. It has a surface of 8.560 square kilometers and a maximum depth of 227 meters and it contains 36 islands).http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Titicaca

But the first direct bus was not until the afternoon. So on the advice of the young helpful female desk clerk at my Puno hotel,  I decided to take a local combi (like a shared taxi) 18km outside Puno to a village called Chucuito whose chief claim to fame is the quirky ´Temple of Fertility".  This supposed ''Inca site" has a collection of large stone phalluses which women find most - interesting (yes, my Spanish is improving and no, I´m not going to go into details, albeit to say both the young clerk and I  had a good giggle at the time at her explanations).

Sadly, when I got to Chucuito, none of the locals could actually point me in the right direction of the said temple, and so I returned to Puno early afternoon none the wiser as too its authenticity nor to its mystical effects.

If you are curious, here´s my attempt at a cut and paste photo - most of the links I found  ahem, had some additional  interpretation





I ended up being ´chaffeured´ to Copacabana when my bus turned out to be a minivan with me as its sole passenger - a most pleasant two and half hours drive by the Lake thanks to Fidel the driver and Simon, who was there to escort me through the Peruvian and Bolivian border formalities - both completed in a couple of minutes and without the aggravation some fellow travellers had warned me about. (In fact the Bolivian official seemed rather surprised that a) I was single  and b) I was not spending more time in his country).

And so, late on Monday around sunset, I arrived at Hotel Los Andes, a friendly informal establishment run by Jose´, his wife and their five children.  My room was cheerily and authentically decorated, and the large windows opened out to a Juliet style balcony with a partial view to the Lake itself.

So far my tummy had behaved itself - in fact upon checking into my room, I felt upbeat enough  to sign up for a boat ride out to the Island of the Sun and the popular  11km Inca ruins walk for the following morning (yesterday Tuesday )

That is when the gods started to tell me I was being optimistic. As soon as the dark settled in, I began to feel a little queasy. Not a good sign. I decided to have something light for dinner and turn in early.

I walked down the almost empty ´main tourist strip of Copacabana´ ignoring the five  pizza joints and  two  hippy cafes and the sleazy bar attached to a hostel, finally ending up in a simple Bolivian family run restaurant  (the children of the family were doing their homework on the tables in the restaurant - the eldest girl who would have been about nine years old, acted as the waitress when she wasn´t working on her project on Egypt). 

For 15 Bolivianos (about two dollars) I had a bowl of quinoa and vegetable soup followed by a  small piece of battered trout, chips, vegies and rice washed down with home made lemonade. (I haven´t had any alcohol for days which shows I must be unwell.) 

It would have been before 7.30pm when I returned   through the still rather quiet  streets back to my hotel and to bed.

Sad to say both the bed and meal was wasted on me as I spent most of the night in the bathroom (thank goodness I opted for a room with a baño privado).  

And so I woke yesterday morning having missed  my boat connection and with the realisation I didn´t have the energy to walk up a flight of stairs let alone attempt even a short high altitude hike, so for the first time in this trip I decided to properly focus on Rest and Recuperation.

I dosed myself on eletrolytes, mate de coca, pills in two different colours and a litre of  bottled water and spent yesterday morning in my hotel room watching Bolivian day time TV -  and all four channels were seemingly devoted to the day´s special significance. It was Mother´s Day in Bolivia. 

By late afternoon I felt slightly more human (or was it getting stir-crazy) and summoned up aenough energy to explore the town of Copacabana itself. It doesn´t take long if you stick to the bottom of the hills. So I walked past the local school (there was a Mother´s Day Concert in progress and noise level was loud enough to reach across the lake to Peru), visited the town´s cathedral and ambled down to the water´s edge.where I watched the bobbing boats for another hour or so, over a banana smoothie and the soothing tones of The Eagles - Hotel California (which ´must be on the sound system of every bus company, restaurant, cafe, shopping centre etc in Peru and Bolivia).

Thus revitalised I decided that today, Wednesday, I would finally  venture to the Isle of the Sun, take my time with the walk (my last for this trip), and return in time to Copacabana to catch the evening commuter bus to La Paz. 

Which sounds logical enough until you experience Bolivian public transport.

So to wrap Part one - a music item. Let´s go with Barry Manilow hit because it is cheesy and silly and admit it, you thought I would immediately go for the Eagles....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kaEubU8X-QE


cheers
Debra
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Mendoza, Cuyo, Argentina

One of the joys of travelling is discovering new gastronomic delights. Well sometimes the descriptive "delight" might be too generous. Still, it's probably helpful to leave your food prejudices at home when packing a passport.

Here is a tour of some of the culinary experiences of my trip - Starting from Mendoza, Argentina through Chile and Peru to Bolivia:
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1209729780/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1209729780/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/sarabanda/1/1209729780/tpod.html Mon, 23 Jun 2008 02:00:56 -0400 Tango and Chocolate - a South American journal

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Puerto Iguazu, Litoral, Argentina

In the past five days I have managed to travel a couple of thousand kilometres across to the north west of Argentina and am now in beautiful Salta. This is the part of the country where colonial history, the Andes mountains, the fight for independence, the Inca history and gaucho traditions along with the local wine landscapes all weave together in an amazing tapestry whose threads I´ve yet to untangle.

How I got here - via Argentine´s amazing long distance coaches - and the northern towns I visited over the past few days following the route of the great liberator General San Martin - Mendoza and San Miguel de Tucuman - will have to wait for a later entry.

Friday 2 May

It is early afternoon in Salta but having had breakfast just two hours ago means that I don´t want to face lunch just yet. The museums and offices all close here between 1pm and 4pm for siesta. So it´s a good excuse to spend an hour at an Internet cafe, catching up on some writing.

Monday last week I escaped from the intensity and smog of Buenos Aires by flying to the Iguazu Falls (known as Cataratas in Argentina and Foz Iguaçu in Brazil) for a couple of days. The Falls are located in the Missiones region of Argentina along the borders of Brazil and Argentina and nestled near Paraguay.

I took a lot of photos and video of course but as those of you who have been to Iguazu, cold images can´t do justice to the place. Iguazu Falls is something you have to experience - to see the multitude of cascades, hear the roar of the water descending at the Devil´s Throat (as if all of Sydney Harbour was being dragged through a plughole)to feel the spray drenching you and smell the sub tropical rain forest around you.

If you are limited by time, travelling alone and not familiar with the area, the best way to see the Falls from both the Argentine side (which takes you up close to them) and the Brazilian side (which gives you the best overall view) is to take an organised tour. Mine included a boat ride underneath one of the falls, a four wheel ride into the forest (the best time to visit is spring when the native orchids and trees are in bloom) and a chance to meet other travellers from around the world. My only regret is that I didn´t allocate another day or two to this side trip, to visit the the ruins of the Jesuit missionaries, to take a rafting trip and explore the local (amethyst?) mines. Oh well, save that for the next trip.

I decided to splurge and have bought a DVD of the Falls which includes all the scientific and history stuff (in English), great vision of the Falls from all angles and finishes with coverage of my particular tour - once the videographer assigned to our group knew I was interested in a copy of the DVD, he tried to include me in every shot so I apologise in advance for having to subject family and friends to my regular intrusion into one of Nature´s Major Wonders!!

If you are considering your own visit to Iguazu, you can stay at either of the top class hotels right on the edge of the Falls or you can opt for budget options in the small town of Puerto Iguazu (on the Argentinian side) or the busier and larger Brazilian city of Foz Iguaçu - it probably depends on which airport you are travelling from.

I stayed at the Hostel-Inn http://www.hostelworld.com/findabed.php?PHPSESSID=f61a9531088f66ee88e84f10e3f773fe on the outskirts of Puerto Iguazu. Hint: You can catch a shuttle bus from the Iguazu Airport for about 15 pesos which is a considerable saving on taxis - which usually have the monopoly at Argentine airports and bus stations.

My private room with baño cost around $A27. Unfortunately the young staffer behind the counter hadn´t heard of the South American Explorers Club 10% discount (like your other typical backpackers place, all the staff and most of the guests are young enough to be your children and you greet anyone there over the age of 30 with secret smiles acknowledging our shared wisdom and experience) but hey, I wasn´t going to quibble.

After booking into the hostel, I took a local bus to the centre of the town (cost: one peso or less than 40 cents) into Puerto Iguazu itself to get something to eat, to book a tour, to check my email and to get some money out of my travel account (achieved in not necessarily that order)

I realised that I was no longer in Kansas, so to speak, when upon returning to my hostel room later that afternoon, I almost stepped on a tarantula. Since I refuse to share my sleeping quarters with any creature with more than the appropriate number of appendages I had one of the young staffers demonstrate his machismo by flinging the said arachnid as far as possible away from my bedroom window - and shutting the window tightly! Will post the image of my uninvited room mate at a later date.

A shower and a gin and tonic later I found myself back in the social area of the hostel. The Hostel Inn calls itself more of a backpackers resort and certainly the inground pool and bar were inviting. Waiting for dusk to arrive so I could take a dip without having to expose too much of my white, sagging flesh to the youth of the world, I pulled up a chair at the bar. I was the only one sitting at the bar so Benicio, the friendly Brazilian barman, was happy for my to practise my Spanish on him, peppered with an occasional obrigada for effect.

It was still happy hour and an excuse to indulge in 'two for one' Caipirinha - which happens to be Brazil´s national drink. Not beng familiar with this concoction, I decided to broaden my education which Benicio was happy to oblige.

I quite like Caipirinhas but warning - they can sneak up on you.

I spent so much time chatting to Benicio about his family and life in general that I never made it into the swimming pool and only just managed to make it iin time for the barbecue dinner at the hostel served with more free Caipirinhas.

Such is life.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caipirinha
So to finish, two links - above is the history and recipe for the demon concoction

And music from The Mission film - and yes, it will haunt you throughout your visit here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvBT9sqXnew

hasta luego
Debra




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La Paz, Bolivia

Who was it who penned the golden rule for bushwalkers and trekkers: "Leave only footprints, take only photos"

Unfortuately these words of wisdom have yet to penetrate the small minds of some people. I find it difficult to understand how anyone can walk in the path of ancient civilisations, or step into pristine forest or gaze upon wonderous cathedrals and still discard their empty water bottles or biscuit wrappers in their wake without a tinge of guilt.

I trust there is a special place in hell for litterers, vandals and graffiti writers.

I have seen too much evidence of the work of these lowlifes in my travels during the past few weeks. Although I do have a soft spot for the young romantic who scribbled on the stone walls of one colonial building in Salta: You are my light, you are my life, you are my chikka (girl).

I have to admire his sentiments, if not his chosen canvass. I hope the young woman in question was worth it.

Still enough of the complaining. At least I can say I farewelled Maccu Picchu and the Isle of the Sun carrying more than I went in with.

I awoke yesterday (Wednesday) morning with the sun glinting in through my window and for the first time in days, my insides were not dancing the hula-hula.

So I celebrated the return of life with a big breakfast and a bouncy stroll down to the water´s edge where I caught one of the small tourist boats (a reconstructed runabout really with a couple of outboard motors) for the two hour slow slow trip out to the Isle of the Sun.

So why is this place so significant?

http://www.mountain.org/work/andes/isleofsun.cfm

An account of the walk.

1100 As the three or four runabouts disgorge their daily quota of visitors, which today comprises mostly mostly of the adventurous young European backpacker breed, a guide appears suddenly on the beach and beckons us to follow him into the local museum where we are asked to pay an entry fee to the nearby ruins of 10 Bolivanos.
Actually he is probably one of the few genuine official guides on the island. The museum, and his explanation in Spanish, are actually rather informative.

1200 The 20 or so walkers break out in small groups and pairs. We have three hours to walk from the north to the south of the island, following the traditional Inca route, which I am told is roughly 11km in length. The trail is clearly marked and except for a few slight climbs, follows the cliff line. Easy walking for anyone who has completed other high altitude treks. We are informed that the boats will pick us up at 3.30pm for the return trip to Copacabana. Some of the backpackers have elected to stay overnight at one of the half dozen hostels on the island. Wish I had the time and freedom to do the same.

1247 At every turn there are stunning views oiut over the Lake and in the distance, the snow capped mountains. That nearby island, I am sure, represents a crouching puma. Just when I am thiinking I wish I had brought some snacks with me, I spy a roadside stall, staffed by your ubiquitious bowler hatted middle aged mama, who is selling biscuits, drinks and rather ripened bananas. I buy two of the latter for one Boliviano. Eat one of the bananas. Delicious. Hope the lower half of me does not object.

1310 By now the pack of walkers have spaced themselves out a long the track. Everyone walks at their own pace, this is not a footrace, just a chance to glimpse into history at your own space and relish a sense of freedom and spiritual renewal. Which would be fine if except for anothe wily local who appears out of nowhere every few kilometre or so to demand another five Bolivianos or so out of we ignorant gringos to enter another so called sacred Inca site. By the fourth or fifth appearance most of us recognise the con and refuse to pay.

1325 Have already drunk half of my 600ml supply of water. Am wearing the obligatory hat, sunglasses and dollop of sun block on my face as you can easily get sunburnt at this altitude, even if there is enough chill in the air to remind you that this is early winter.

1415 I walk past abandoned adobe built huts and forgotten shrines of stone crosses, dodge the piles of donkey droppings and other roadside hazards and stop every now and then to admire the view and inhale the sweet scent of eucalyptus that wafts through in the fresh mountain air.

Yes, there are plantations of alpine eucalyptus trees all over the island, which is all rather unsettling and makes me feel momentarily homesick.

(In fact lots of communities in the Andes have established eucalpytus groves as a cash crop. The trees grow quickly in this climate and terrain and the long straight timber is used in house construction.)

1440. Arrive at the southern end of the trail at at Yumani which is the largest town on the island. Read somewhere that there are 206 Inca Steps around here leading to a sacred stone fountain containing three separate springs said to be a fountain of youth. Or something. Except all I can see is a motley collection of newly built pizza restaurants, a mock adobe hut advertising Internet and a handicraft stall or three. And yes, here come three more 'local officials' each carrying receipt books demanding another five Bolivianos to enter this traditional Incan site.

I pretend not to understand their Spanish and focus on the downward path to the dock where the boats are waiting. I walk on past a charming picture of three local women filling their heavy pitchers with drinking water from the communal tap to carry back to their houses. I wonder if the houses back on to the shop advertising Internet services. A cackle of children coming home from school push past me and then dodge in between a couple of mules straggling the stoney path.

Then a dirty faced child stops and turns to me to ask for a photo. I tell her that she is very pretty but no, I will not take her photo. She then asks for a "caramelo" and when I contine to shake my head and continue walking she then openly calls out for money. When I ignore her she calls out in what is probably the local Amayru language, which was probably something rude.

1447 Having survived the guantlet of artesanos selling their alpaca knits and painted souvenirs, I arive at last at the pick up point for the boats back to Copacabana. Time for a quick cheese and chicken sandwich at the conveniently located food stand and a visit to the newly built and rather flash toilet at the end of the beach.(receive three strips of toilet paper for my two Bolivianos from the middle aged man running the facility which goes to show who are the smart ooperators in the tourism industry here).

1755 After another excruiating slow journey back to the mainland I retreat to one of the nearby cafes for a steaming cup of hot chocolate - the best so far I've tasted in this trip- before collecting my luggage from the hotel and climbing on board a local bus for the three hour ride to La Paz. Glad I have booked ahead at a hotel near the centre of town. I am thinking fondly of the hot shower that awaits me.

1847 The driver gets on the bus, starts the engine. We move a few metres up the street. then stop. This happens a cuple of times. The driver disembarks and looks anxiously at something at the side of the bus. The rather portly couple sitting across the aisle from me produce from seemingly nowhere several blankets, a pillow and the biggest bag of toasted popcorn I have ever seen. Someone at the back of the bus yells out "vamos!" We eventually get going.

1910 .I am sitting squashed up against the side next to a friendly but rather stocky businessman returnig home to La Paz. Have yet to meet a thin Bolivian. Wonder if I will get DVT. Decide watching the passing shadows and patchwork of stars in the night sky is not going to entertain me for the next three hours. Atempt to get some sleep. Not easy when you are travelling on an unsealed road.

1940 The bus suddenly stops and everyone gets out. Apparently we have come to a river channel somewhere on the far reaches of the Lake. The bus will be punted across while we passengers have to pay another 1.5 Bolivianos for the dubious pleasure of being carried across the 500m of water on a small motorboat. The ride is again achingly slow and the boat is so heavily loaded that I can almost feel it sinking. I keep my eyes on the lights shining from the houses on the shore. When we do reach land, there is another seemingly long wait for our bus to appear. A road sign reveals that it is 112km to La Paz. I watch a family cook their evening meal in the street outside their house and crave for a steak sandwich, or a llama burger. I am not the only passenger to breathe a sigh of relief when our bus finally appears.

2115 I must have dozed off as I suddenly jolt awake by the lights coming on inside the bus.We have finally reached the outskirts of La Paz . The city stretches high up the mountain sides. From the bus window I watch the stray dogs and beggars scratch at piles of rubbish left in in the centre of the street and wonder if the whole city was as bleak as these outer suburbs. We slowly wind down the highway into the heart of the city which looks a bit more enticing. (Actually La Paz is one of the few cities in the world where the poor live on the heights and the affluent get to live down the hill where there is supposedly more oxygen.)

The bus arrives at the terminal. Like a fairy godmother a 'tourist police officer' suddenly appears and within a few minutes has organised a taxi for me, jotting down the details of both the driver and me for my safety.

2150 After five weeks of being on the road and staying in a range of hostels in Argentina, Chile and Peru, I have reached the end of this particular South American trip. I am staying at the Hostal Republica, a pleasant mid range hostel set around a couple of courtyards on a busy street just up the hill from the San Francisco cathedral and the main commercial thoroughfare. Hello La Paz, a city that quite literally lies at the top of the world.

It has been a long day.

http://wikitravel.org/en/La_Paz_(Bolivia)
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