TravelStream™ news feed for member terryback on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/terryback en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Thu, 22 May 2008 18:06:33 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208527200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208527200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208527200/tpod.html Thu, 22 May 2008 18:06:33 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Santa Clara, Cuba

<img alt="hanger-on at Los Canayes, Santa Clara, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208527200.p1030004.jpg"> Thursday 17th April - we left Trinidad and were driven to Santa Clara, in the centre of Cuba. We were only there for one night. Thank the Lord. Rather than put us up in a hotel in the town centre (more later), we were booked into, errrrr, a state-run holiday camp on the edge of town. The room, described as 'modelled on a pre-Colombian style' (i.e. based on a 500 year old design) was spartan and mosquito ridden, with rock hard beds and threadbare towels. A quick bite to eat by the pool at lunchtime confirmed our worst fears. The food was terrible. Still, we had sunshine and a swimming pool, and the delight of watching a group of very uneasy looking new arrivals from France, trying to take it all in. <img alt="Shell-shocked French tourists...wat izz thizz????, Santa Clara, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208527200.p1030007.jpg"><img alt="The pool...looks idyllic, doesn't it?, Santa Clara, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208527200.p1030006.jpg">In the afternoon we took a walk into town. By now, we were really in timewarp Cuba, with 4 out of 5 taxis being horses and carts. The town of Santa Clara is most famous for being the site of the last great battle of the revolution, when Che Guevara and co. liberated it on New Year's Eve, 1958. On the following day back in Havana, President Batista quickly handed over power to whoever was standing next to him at the time, jumped on a plane and demanded to be taken away from Cuba (together with most of the contents of the treasury). As I understand it, he spent most of the rest of his life selling life assurance in Spain. Just as well they didn't have timeshares back in those days or who knows how he would have ended up. As part of the battle to liberate Santa Clara, the rebels had to overcome a Government Armoured train. They did so using that infallible anti-armoured-train device, a bulldozer. Said bulldozer and five carriages from the train, most on their sides, are still on display in central Santa Clara today. It was to Santa Clara, the site of his last rebel action in Cuba, that the remains of Che were returned. The burial site of the handless skeleton (he was wounded and captured by government forces in the jungle in Bolivia, then murdered the following day. His hands were cut off and sent back to Argentina for fingerprint identification. Well, he didn't need them anymore) had been discovered in the 90s under an airstrip. The Che memorial, containing his remains and topped with a statue, also contains a museum to the man. Once again, I was struck by the intensity of his beliefs. Really, this 40 year old asthmatic shouldn't have been wandering around the jungles of the world trying to ferment revolution through guerrilla warfare, he should have been representing Cuba at the UN, being charismatic and living up to his photo. But no, he wouldn't be happy until the peasants of the world were free, fed, educated, healthy and united. <img alt="Che's memorial, Santa Clara, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208527200.p1030008.jpg"><img alt="Detail from Che's freize, Santa Clara, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208527200.p1030010.jpg">After a quick homage to Che, we went into the city centre square, where we saw the Theatre where Caruso once sang, and the Hotel where we didn't stay. I won't dwell on it, suffice to say it looked very 50s - Moscow. Overall, Santa Clara looked very tired and worn out. We went back to dinner at Los Caneyes holiday camp. As soon as we entered the food hall - a great cavern of a place and a food hall, not a restaurant - I could hear the clatter of crockery and cutlery, overlaid with the loud buzz of chatter of sixty or so diners that took me back forty five years to a Dawlish Warren holiday camp. The difference was the musical trio wandering amongst us and serenading the diners. That and the absence in Devon all those years ago of Spanish and (confused) French accents. Dinner was a buffet and bearable - certainly better than the previous night's effort in Trinidad. We drank enough wine to sleep easy, then departed for an early night amongst the mosquitoes. The next morning we breakfasted early, just to get out of the room. Following the tolerable dinner, breakfast was truly terrible. I've never before eaten grey scrambled eggs - and I didn't want to start now. So we avoided all but a slice of toast and a cup of warm coffee and got ready to set off again, this time for a bit of luxury (hopefully!) on an island - Cay Ensenachos - a couple of hours drive away and just off the north coast of Cuba. <img alt="How....errrr...why???, Santa Clara, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208527200.p1030018.jpg"> We had seen tourist Cuba for the locals, and had sniffily rejected it out of hand, like the pampered westerners we were. As a farewell parting shot, the taxi driver that took us to our next hotel, the Royal Hideaway, was an hour late and couldn't have cared less. Mind you, nor could I. After a night at Los Caneyes, I had just about lost the will to live. I'd like to think that it wasn't the bad food or the mosquitoes, but they had a lot to do with it. Certainly the camp's run-down nature seemed to perfectly complement the overall attitude of the staff, although there were some notable exceptions, like the receptionist who took on the case of the missing taxi driver with a dogged determination that would have impressed Colombo (the TV detective, not the Italian explorer with about 85 surname spellings that everyone and his brother is obsessed with west of Galway). Perhaps our tourist attitude was all wrong....I honestly don't know. All I felt was a longing for a sandy beach, and some trepidation about what to expect next.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208350440/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208350440/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208350440/tpod.html Thu, 01 May 2008 09:23:08 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Trinidad, Trinidad, Cuba

Tuesday 15th April, we were picked up at the Saratoga Hotel for the five hour drive to Trinidad, just off of the south coast of the centre of the island. On the way we stopped off in Cienfuegos (according to Jane, pronounced 'Cinfoss'....a bit unnatural, until you think of Leicester...) for a quick look around the town square. <img alt="Teatro Tomas Terry/Terry Thomas Theatre???" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020866.jpg" border="0">On one side of the square was the Teatro Tomas Terry (Terry Thomas Theatre)....well, my first thought was that this was some tit-for-tat blow against the Peoples Republic of Albania <i>( 'Fidel....Enver Hoch and his band of running dog counter revolutionaries in Albania have metaphorically abducted the great pratfall artist Norman Wisdom and installed him as the officially adopted English Comedian to the state....what are we to do?' <i>'Don't worry Che, I have a plan....we'll make it appear that we are interested in Arthur Askey and Charles Haughtry by issuing a series of NHS spectacle retospective postage stamps, then when all are looking the other way, we will unveil the Theatro Tomas Terry upon an unsuspecting world, affirming our rights over one of the most deviously Latin English comics of all time....') Unfortunately, there was no plot, only a Cuban industrialist called Tomas Terry, who had the theatre built. We drove on to Trinidad. The deeper we travelled into the heartland of Cuba, the more rural it all became. There were still plenty of 50s American cars on the road, but they were being supplemented by more and more four legged forms of transport. Farmers on horses, donkey and cart or horse and cart taxis became increasingly common. Trinidad itself was a small town that had been built on the wealth generated by local sugar plantations. It was also quite close to the infamous 'Bay of Pigs', where US-backed insurgents tried to invade Cuba in the early 60s in order to seize power from Castro. <img alt="U2 spyplane pod" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020880.jpg" border="0"> History records that this effort was a complete fiasco which firmly rubbed the noses of the Americans into the dirt, and Trinidad had a museum to celebrate that fact, with artefacts from the attempted invasion as well as, intriguingly, a sidepod from a downed American U2 spy plane, shot down on some other occasion. <img alt="Picturesque Trinidad (1)" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020873.jpg" border="0"> <img alt="....and (2)" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020874.jpg" border="0"> <img alt="...and (3)" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020875.jpg" border="0"> <img alt="....and (4)" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020876.jpg" border="0">We also had a good look around the town, which was pretty picture-postcard in places. Our first night there, we ate at our hotel - the Iberostar - which was OK but nothing special. The next day, we spent some time in the sunshine at a bar off the town square drinking Mojito(s) and listening to a live band. Lunch was an uninspiring but not quite inedible buffet at a local restaurant. On our second night we thought we would venture out and find a Paladar.<img alt="...and (5)" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020879.jpg" border="0"> <img alt="museum belltower" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020884.jpg" border="0"> <img alt="View from Iberostsar hotel" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1020900.jpg" border="0"> <img alt="Iberostar hotel" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/thumbnail.large.1.1208350440.p1030001.jpg" border="0"> We shouldn't have bothered. Having done our on-line research, the best restaurant was closed and the next best was empty and looked singularly unappealing. We finally chose a small restaurant close by the hotel for what had to be the worst meal and, surprisingly, the worst value for money meal, I've had in my life. OK, so the starter salads were only £1.50 each. But they consisted of four small slices of tomato and four of cucumber aligned down each side of the plate, with something that sort of smelled like an open sewer running down in between the two lines. I think that it had cabbage in it, but couldn't swear to it. I pushed it around the plate for a couple of minutes, but couldn't bring myself to eat it. Never mind; the main event was about to arrive, and it was steak and chips. Only it wasn't really. The small piece of meat looked like it had been fried, grilled and boiled into shoe-leather like submission. But at least it was warm. The chips however were covered in grease and stone cold. Not cold like they had been in a refrigerator or anything, just cold like they had been sitting alone on a shelf in the kitchen for about five hours after being fried. It's not easy to capture that temperature. Some more plate-pushing and no, we won't have a desert or coffee thank you very much. Just pay our £12 (so that's about £3 per mouthful each) and leave. A rather downbeat end to our otherwise very pleasant stay in Trinidad.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208262180/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208262180/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208262180/tpod.html Fri, 25 Apr 2008 15:54:06 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Havana, Cuba

When we arrived at Havana airport, we were lulled into a false sense of security as a twenty-something year old with legs-up-to-her-armpits met us straight off the plane and glided us past all of the controls and into an air conditioned bar where a cold beer was waiting. Really. <img title="Legs up to their armpits......, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020776.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Legs up to their armpits......, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020801.jpg">Reality returned ten minutes later when we had to go back to collect our baggage. Young samba-as-she-walk was replaced by 50-something unkempt and unshaven Rodrigue (actually, he could have been my twin), who pointed Jane to the search counter with my hand luggage full of books and souvenirs. You try explaining why you are importing books about 19th Century English aristocracy and the economics of the Entertainment Industry into Cuba. Thank the Lord they never found by PSP! (is it illegal to take them into Cuba? I never found out). <img title="Ah, the cars......., Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020821.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Ah, the cars......., Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020817.jpg"><img title="....the cars, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020836.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="....the cars, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020821.jpg"><img title="...yet more cars, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020839.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="...yet more cars, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020836.jpg">We were staying in Old Havana in a restored building, the hotel Saragosa. On the way there, we were struck by the 50s US vehicles still on the roads. By no means exclusively, but a sizeable minority. The rest were mainly modern Korean and French stuff and a smattering of Ladas, including a handful of stretch Lada taxis. I wasn't sure at first whether this demonstrated a subtle Cuban sense of irony (the true people's expression of your white Cadillac limos, eh gringo?) but after seeing my third or fourth, I realised that it wasn't that funny and they must have had some real practical purpose. <img title="...finally, a car..., Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020837.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="...finally, a car..., Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020839.jpg"><img title="...and a stretch Lada, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020828.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="...and a stretch Lada, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020837.jpg"> Motorcycles were fairly abundant, mostly Jawas, with a smattering of small (125 or less) Suzukis and a lot of combinations - 350 Jawas and Zundapps. There were also a few water cooled 2-strokes that I didn't recognise (any thoughts anyone?). The new Korean standardmobiles and old American behemoths set the scene for contrasts. Cuba is a land chock full of contrasts. <img title="View from our hotel roof, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020780.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="View from our hotel roof, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020776.jpg">After a quick swim in the Saratoga's rooftop pool (this place gets better and better), we went for a stroll. The block next to the Saratoga's was of a similar neo-colonial style, but this was falling apart, patched up, with a criss-cross of electrical wiring, crumbling stonework, rotting staircases and the smell of the open sewer. It was the same story throughout old Havana. A lot of good restoration work has taken place, but there is so much more to do. I'm not going to blame the revolution for the state of Old Havana (that would be like blaming the Tories for the state of the health service), but it seemed sad that a lot of the revolutionary vigour and power was expressed on fading thirty year old murals and that the present day reality was of a tired old city that had just awoken from a decades-long sleep and was trying to take in the decay all around it. In all fairness, Old Havana comprises about 5% of the total population of the City of Havana. Much of the rest of the city that we visited was in very good shape. I suppose it was a bit like visiting the London Docklands in ther late '70s and concluding that London was on the point of collapse.<img title="Next to our hotel, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020782.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Next to our hotel, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020810.jpg"><img title="restored and unrestored side-by-side, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020799.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="restored and unrestored side-by-side, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020782.jpg"><img title="Besch front awaiting restoration, still inhabited, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020786.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Besch front awaiting restoration, still inhabited, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020814.jpg"> I never really got the sense that the Cubans cared much for the revolution - actually, I never got the sense that the Cubans cared much about anything really, other than music. We had heard a lot about how friendly the Cubans were; to us they seemed fairly disinterested in tourists/visitors. Perhaps the novelty has worn off.<img title="More unrestored, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020814.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="More unrestored, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020799.jpg">We visited the museum of the revolution, which set the scene with a history of the country as well as the revolution itself. Frankly, Cuba seems to have lurched from crisis to unhappy crisis for much of the last few hundred years, against a backdrop of persecution and tyranny. The story of the revolution itself is quite inspiring - how Fidel and his 82 revolutionaries landed in Cuba one night from their converted US pleasure boat, the Granma, been ambushed and reduced to 18, took to the mountains in the south and within 2 years had taken control of an island of over 10m inhabitants from a government that had the backing and support of the most powerful nation on earth. But the only feeling you get for the revolution seems to come from the museums, the old murals and the daily newspaper - the Granma - the people themselves don't seem to bring it up at all.<img title="A bit of restored Olh Havana, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020810.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="A bit of restored Olh Havana, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020780.jpg">. Nearly 50 years later, the man is still there, although now replaced at the helm by his brother Raul, also one of the original 82. I sincerely hope that Fidel Castro can hang on to see the 50th anniversary of the revolution on 1 January 2009. Looked at from afar, Cuba has to be one of the most fascinating sociological experiments of the 20th century, and you have to wonder what could have become of the country if they had been more inward-looking during the '60s and beyond, rather than trying to come to the aid of every people's movement in the world engaged against imperialism. They might not have wound up Uncle Sam so much, for a start. Come to think of it, the Cuban government should have asked the accountants before they nationalised every pie that the podgy US fingers were inserted into. I'm sure we could have come up with a combination of transfer pricing rules, employer social security payments, graduated rates of corporation tax and minimum wage laws that would have sorted out the Cuban treasury as well as shifting the economic base of power away from the corporations and landowners. However, what Fidel did for his people after the revolution was spectacular. The improvements to the health and education systems were truly stellar and their positive effects are still felt today. What's more, they still compare favourably with the convoluted and litigation-hungry systems of the west. All this and much more from a country that the USA, through a combination of overt economic sanctions and covert CIA operations, was trying to bring to its knees in order to....what? Lord knows what the intentions of the USA were. Perhaps to re-establish a Mafia controlled gambling playground for the rich? Apart from the obvious indoctrination, we also ate well during our three nights in Havana, something I was not really expecting (everyone had told us: the people are nice, but the food is soooo drab....rice and beans but, you know, socialist and grey....bleagh). About fifteen years ago the government set up a licensing scheme for people to host people for dinner in their houses for money, a sort of petty-bourgeoisie restaurant system in the front room. But no beef - only the poorer, people's types of meat. These home restaurants - the Paladares - vary greatly, but we managed to find two of the best thanks to the groundwork of Christine Corner, who had packed me off from the office way back in February with an annotated list of every restaurant she had been to during an earlier visit. <img title="Jane serious over dinner at La Guarida...., Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020842.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Jane serious over dinner at La Guarida...., Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020828.jpg"> When we visited the first, La Guarida, we still didn't really get the Paladar thing. It had been hard to get a booking and we expected something spectacular. When our taxi dropped us half way along a decaying back street in Old Havana, we thought the driver had got it wrong. The 'doorman' - literally some bloke standing at the front door of the apartment building - asked us about our reservation and then mumbled something about the third floor. We wandered into the crumbling building and in the darkness could just make out some urchins playing in the squalid mess of the courtyard. After climbing the chipped marble steps past a headless statue, we reached the landing of the second floor, adorned by a criss-cross of laundry lines, heavy with a mixture of sheets and children's clothes. Reaching the third floor, and by now thinking I was on the set of Blade Runner we saw a discreet sign for La Guarida, next to a door with a bell push and a spy hole. We were admitted into a different world. The apartment looked like it had seen better days, but in a stylish way. The walls were covered in posters and artwork from the 40s and 50s. The restaurant probably had 25 - 30 covers. The service was quick and efficient - all PDAs and snappy snappy. The food choice was limited to about three starters and three mains, and what we had was delicious - a spinach pancake stuffed with chicken and mushroom followed by Mahi Mahi (nothing too posh or decadent there then..). The wine was OK and overall the experience, although very efficient, was warm and friendly. Getting a cab back to the hotel after brought us back to earth with a bump. Getting into a cab that should have been condemned a couple of days after Henry Ford put his first Model-T on the road, we had to haggle to get the price down from the stratospheric to the mere I-couldn't-care-less-it's-only-a-couple-of-quid-but-to-him-it's-a-holiday-for-the-kids-and-a-victory-against-the-west. All in all a great night. <img title="...and smiling over lunch, Havana, Cuba" alt="...and smiling over lunch, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020842.jpg">We did a lot of walking in Havana and saw a great deal of Old Havana as well as the port. Day two (Sunday) we had lunch in a local restaurant, and saw the other side of the Cuban culinary experience. I was happy - there was a ball game on the television. I ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and Jane ordered a pizza. The menu should have given Jane a clue. There were two types of pizza; pizza or pizza with cheese. Being a cosmopolitan sort, she had the one with the cheese. Within two bites she pronounced it inedible. I don't know what it is with these Surrey types. Me, I love processed cheese. Eventually, even I struggled to get about three quarters through it before giving up. In the meantime, Jane moaned about the yellow bread of her adopted sandwich. All this and surly service. The ball game was good, though. We kept finding small enchanting squares with nice cafes in the middle of absolute slum areas, so the mood was constantly swinging from great to hmmmm to phew to wow. The second Paladar we visited for dinner was La Esperanza which was across the river in Miramar, a nice suburban part of town. The restaurant was in the well proportioned living room of a 30s house, full of art-deco bits and bobs. Once again, they managed an interesting menu on three starters and three mains. This time I started with banana stuffed with tuna and cheese (no really, it works) followed by Red Snapper.<img title="The courtyard, San Francisco Church, Havana, Cuba" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1208262180/p1020817.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="The courtyard, San Francisco Church, Havana, Cuba" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1208262180.p1020786.jpg"> Our introduction to Cuba had been truly fascinating; the three days in Havana disappeared all too soon and by Tuesday morning we were being picked up by taxi for a 5 hour drive to Trinidad, in the centre of the island.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208016000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208016000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1208016000/tpod.html Tue, 22 Apr 2008 20:20:37 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Guayaquil, Guayaquil, Ecuador

Our second trip to the Oro Verde hotel, Guayaquil, was a quick overnight stay. We were delayed about four hours taking off from the Galapagos and got into the hotel at about 6pm. Our guide told us that we would need to leave at 4am the following morning for a 6.50am flight to Panama City, then on to Havana. So, a quick Friday night stroll along the Malecon Salado then a bite to eat at the hotel (skilfully steering Jane past her preferred haunt, the Fondue restaurant and in to the snack bar for a quick plate of pasta). Next morning, up at 3.30 - now where did I leave my sense of humour? - and off to Guayaquil airport. The flight to Panama City was on time and we had a three hour wait for our connection. I made good use of the internet at the airport to follow Millwall's great victory at Hartlepool...only three games to go and four points needed for safety. Three tough games, but...where was I? We boarded a smallish twin engined Cubana jet for about 90 passengers that wasn't a Boeing or an Airbus. Never found out the make, but on the safety card it said it was a VX 4/90 or something...anyway, ever since the embryonic skyjacking days of the sixties, I've longed to get aboard a flight to Havana, and utter those famous words 'take this plane to Cuba'..... just for a laugh, you understand; nothing serious. Have you ever been strip-searched in a Central American airport maximum security facility? Me neither, but I have a vivid imagination, and that's why I kept my mouth firmly closed throughout the two hour flight. Next, Havana....
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Galapagos Islands, Ecuador

On the morning of Friday 4th April we flew from Guayaquil to Baltra Island, in the middle of the Galapagos Islands. It was in the Galapagos that Charles Darwin spent just three weeks of his five year voyage on the Beagle, and it was on these islands that he encountered subtle differences in species that helped him to formulate his theory of evolution, published in hid book On The Origin of Species in 1859. The beauty of the Galapagos lies in its isolation. This group of volcanic islands lies on the Equator, about 1000km off of the coast of Ecuador. It has been so scarcely visited over the centuries that the wildlife there has never really been troubled by man, and is therefore quite content to approach human visitors. The variety of exotic wildlife is enormous. Over our seven day trip, we encountered penguins, sea lions, turtles, blue footed boobies, sally lightfoot crabs, giant tortoises and many more. Rather than compile a day-by-day record of our visit to each island, I'm going to let the photos do (most of) the talking. Suffice it to say that, no matter how much I thought I had travelled to wonders of the world with the Perito Moreno Glacier, the Atacama Desert and Machu Picchu, this one really took the biscuit. We were lucky enough to have three really knowledgeable and enthusiastic local naturalists on board our boat, Vanessa Blanca and Diego and they complemented our experiences by filling in the gaps and answering the dozens of questions that arose as we made our twice-daily treks or swims on the islands. There were 32 passengers on the converted floating casino that was La Pinta; a mix of Brits, Americans, Canadians, Belgians, Swiss (well, converted Brits), Iranians and Australian. Whenever you throw a bunch of 32 people together in close confinement for a week you get a remarkably rapid changes in relationships as they are forced to get to know each other, be polite to each other and maintain (in the case of the Brits) a sense of reserve in the face of an onslaught (in the case of the Americans) of over familiarity. Well, Jane and I survived by banding together with a like-minded bunch of cynical and catty types, namely Claire and Bill from Switzerland via, errr, New Cross and Martin from Sutton Coldfield, which Nick Broomhall (or other ex- Bishop Vesey types) will testify, was music to my ears. Only, Martin wasn't really from Sutton Coldfield. Having received a text from daughter Vicky informing me that she had spent the day pigging out at Cadbury World in Bournville, Martin told us that he had in fact been born and raised in Bournville, or rather (as my ear, attuned by Broomhall to the finer points of the West Midland vocabulary, ascertained) Bourn-VILLE. Well of course, the soft-bellied southerners/Swiss managed to eke out about 4 days of fun from the stress on a single syllable. Martin's general view about the ignorance of the South (and Switzerland) was not improved by Jane's comment 'you lived in Bournville - I thought that was a chocolate bar' and, once that had been ironed out, Claire's follow up 'yes, but surely it's cooking chocolate - one can't actually eat it....' Martin's face wore the look of resignation of one carrying the ball and chain of a massive cultural divide. So we bonded by being generally critical of the Americans. All apart from Laurie (from just outside San Francisco, so practically a European), Len and Ros, who were just so nice and sweet that we would forgive them anything, and Dennis, who showed a real interest in other people. The rest were just, well..... what happens on La Pinta stays on La Pinta. By the time we parted, we had got into the regular habit of a bottle or two of wine on deck after dinner (how is it possible to develop and keep a regular habit within seven days? Buggared if I know, it must be a sort of Tardis thing, but I do know that when we got off the boat I felt like I'd been doing the wine-on-deck-after-dinner-thing all my life, and as I sit here writing this three days later, I miss it desperately). Cruise organisers Metropolitan Touring (website http://www.galapagosvoyage.com/ ) did a great job in not only feeding, watering, entertaining and educating us for a week, but also managing to make us feel as if we were the only people in the world. How they avoided all the other tour boats I don't know. So, if you promise yourself one special trip in the next ten years, let it be the Galapagos. You won't regret it. Friday 11th we flew back to Guayaquil. Stayed overnight then next morning, off to Cuba.........
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1207310460/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1207310460/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1207310460/tpod.html Fri, 11 Apr 2008 21:15:08 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Guayaquil, Ecuador

So, Wednesday morning, we're at sea level with Jane still dizzy and wobbly but thankfully not nauseous. We flew to Guayaquil in Ecuador, a place that sounded like it had been discovered by Geordie explorers. The flight, our last on LAN, was on a half-full brand-new Boeing 767, with full entertainment. I started to watch the Golden Compass. I knew the film was two hours long and the flight only one and a half, but I was strangely drawn to it....idiot. I'll have to buy the DVD now. We were met at Guayaquil by our guide William (William, Oliver....they all sound a bit Surrey really. Can't wait to meet Nigel at our next stop). He gave us a quick run down of the city (safe, great river front walk, better than Quito...errr - that's it) then dropped us at the hotel. We were due to meet him the next day for a city tour. We had a long walk that afternoon. The town was really buzzy and typically South American. Manic drivers, taking no prisoners; haughty pedestrians showing no fear and refusing to acknowledge the cars. On every street corner there were old ladies and urchins selling coca cola in plastic cups from 2 litre bottles for 5c. (is that too Dickensian, urchins? Lummee governor, errr, senor, you're a real toff, thankee). Jane points out that there were also lots of smart young men selling the cola. Funny, I never noticed. <img title="Cathedral and Simon Bolivar statue, Guayaquil, Ecuador" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207310460/p1020439.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Cathedral and Simon Bolivar statue, Guayaquil, Ecuador" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207310460.p1020435.jpg">The architecture was a mix of fairly low rise buildings with the odd office block. All had colonnades providing some shade and shelter from the regular rain showers. Every now and again we would come across the inevitable town squares full of statues of liberating heroes of the past. <img title="Land iguana on the ground - Simon Bolivar square, Guayaquil, Ecuador" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207310460/p1020440.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Land iguana on the ground - Simon Bolivar square, Guayaquil, Ecuador" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207310460.p1020439.jpg">One of these, outside the cathedral, was bizarrely teeming with land iguanas. These creatures had no fear of humans, and crawled around on the ground as well as basking in the treetops and crapping on the crowd down below, with a mass and force simply unimagined by the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. <img title="...but look out above..., Guayaquil, Ecuador" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207310460/p1020774.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="...but look out above..., Guayaquil, Ecuador" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207310460.p1020440.jpg">As Jane was still feeling dizzy, we had a quiet meal at the hotel at..... the Fondue Restaurant! No, really. <img title="more bloody fondue..., Guayaquil, Ecuador" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207310460/p1020449.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="more bloody fondue..., Guayaquil, Ecuador" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207310460.p1020774.jpg"> The next day we called in the hotel doctor as Jane was still feeling wobbly, and we were about to set off for a one week cruise of the Galapagos. The last thing she needed was motion sickness before she had set foot on board. The hotel were great. They sent up the Doctor, the Doctor's Assistant, the Doctor's Translator and the Hotel Representative. With me, that was five off us all crowding around Jane, who was sat at the bottom of the bed. You don't realise how small a hotel room is until you try having a party in it. The Doctor diagnosed an inflammation of the ear, and prescribed two sets of pills, which cost about £1.50 in total. Who is ripping off whom in the international pharmaceutical trade? We had a tour of the city with William, spending a good deal of time at the Malecon, the riverside walk. The locals (Guayaquillians? Guayaquilados?) are all justifiably proud of this development, which has given a real focal point to the town. It has a botanical garden, bars, restaurants and a cultural centre as well as a kids' park, and is really well used. We went round the old part of town, and came across a local TV station filming Barney the Dinosaur (I thought Entertainment Rights owned that?)We also had a stroll through the market, which was a bit lively and where, for the only time I didn't feel 100% safe. <img title="Dinosaur, not iguana, Guayaquil, Ecuador" alt="Dinosaur, not iguana, Guayaquil, Ecuador" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207310460.p1020449.jpg"> There were dozens of shops selling knock-off DVDs for $1. You see this kind of thing and wonder what the Studios are doing about protecting their IP. Well, I do anyway. With Jane already running up and down her perch and a lot happier, we went out for a meal at the Blue Snail restaurant, were entertained by Flamenco dancers, and actually polished off a bottle of wine. Normality had returned. Now for the Galapagos.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1207137600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1207137600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1207137600/tpod.html Wed, 09 Apr 2008 20:29:12 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Puno, Peru

Monday morning, bright and early we were up and ready at Cusco station, ready for the 10 hour train trip to Puno and Lake Titicaca. Jane was feeling a lot better when we boarded - so much so that she ordered wine for lunch - but was concerned that we were climbing another 1,000 metres. <img title="Jane- at the start of the trip, Puno, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207137600/p1020422.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Jane- at the start of the trip, Puno, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207137600.p1020417.jpg">The train, whilst not as plush as the Hiram Bingham, was pretty spectacular. It had a great observation car at the back. Entertainment on board included a band and a fashion show <img title="Floorshow, Puno, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207137600/p1020426.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Floorshow, Puno, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207137600.p1020422.jpg"> Our company for the trip was two Australians, Jan and Deb (no matter what names Australians are christened with, by the age of two they've managed to shorten them to a three letter diminutive), who were about as positively stereotyped as you could get. Deb had sold up, set off around Aus (see what I mean) in a bloody great coach, with a trailer on the back carrying her car, dumped hubby after a couple of months and finally settled for a short while in Alice Springs. She seemed able to turn her hand to pretty much any job that came her way. <img title="Deb &amp; Jan - Australia's finest, Puno, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207137600/p1020423.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Deb &amp; Jan - Australia's finest, Puno, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207137600.p1020426.jpg"> Whilst Jane and I had been working through our umpteen course lunch on Hiram Bingham train to Machu Picchu, Deb and Jan had been doing the four day hike of the Inca trail to the same place. Not only that, but by describing their trip with the cheerful enthusiasm that only the Australians can manage, they came dangerously close to convincing Jane that we should make the same trip. Fortunately (though not for Jane) altitude sickness came to my rescue as she shortly after suffered what I can only tactfully describe as a violent physical reaction. Luckily, at the time I was able to be very supportive. Suffice to say that the last five hours of the journey were very quiet, but tense.<img title="4200metres - highest point of the trip, Puno, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1207137600/p1020427.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="4200metres - highest point of the trip, Puno, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207137600.p1020423.jpg"> Deb tried to lighten the mood as we passed through the town of Juliaca, describing through her Pisco-soured haze the trackside market that seemed to stretch for miles to Jane....'look, they're selling hoses there....and there...and there....and they're selling brushes there...and there...(ad infinitum) When we arrived at Puno, by the shore of lake Titicaca, our guide Tula tried to interest us in a city tour there and then. Our facial expressions and terse replies gave the game away that we were not in the mood to be happy snappers that evening. In fact, we put the following day's trip across Lake Titicaca on hold as well. <img title="Lake Titicaca, Puno, Peru" alt="Lake Titicaca, Puno, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1207137600.p1020427.jpg"> That night both of us slept badly. We cancelled the lake trip and looked to get out of the forthcoming two day trip to Quito (2,800 metres) as an overwhelming desire to return to sea level gripped us. One quick phone call to Journey Latin America (and a severe flexing of our flexible friend from Coutts) sorted everything. Within two hours we were at Juliaca airport awaiting a flight to Lima, at blessed sea level. That night (Tuesday) we spent at a hotel at Lima airport, ready for a flight to Guayaquil (also sea level) the next morning.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206964800/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206964800/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206964800/tpod.html Wed, 09 Apr 2008 18:13:02 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Cusco, Peru

Late on Saturday night we reached the Hotel Monastario in Cusco. As the name suggests, this was a converted monastery. It was owned by the Orient Express people. The conversion had been carried out opulently rather than tastefully, although our bedroom was, in keeping with the surroundings, a monk-cell size. The nagging feelings of doubt that I had about the place were increased when the rucksacks that were swiftly and efficiently taken from us upon arrival disappeared. I found them lying abandoned in a courtyard about half an hour later (thankfully still with our valuables on board). <img title="Ruins amongst the ruins, Cusco, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206964800/p1020406.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Ruins amongst the ruins, Cusco, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206964800.p1020405.jpg">The next day we were picked up early by our favourite guide Oliver for a tour of Cusco. This was the capital of the Inca empire, and had ruins to match. After a couple of hours visiting various sites (including, in Oliver's words, the first operating table for brain surgery; me, I thought it was another sacrificial altar) we parted company. <img title="Cusco from above, Cusco, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206964800/p1020408.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Cusco from above, Cusco, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206964800.p1020406.jpg"><img title="Hey, they've got a band, Cusco, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206964800/p1020413.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Hey, they've got a band, Cusco, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206964800.p1020408.jpg">Jane &amp; I stopped in the town square to listen to a local band then had lunch in a restaurant overlooking the square. By this time, the altitude problems had caused us to more or less give up on booze, drink lots of coca tea and eat lots of carbs. Certainly brought on loads of funny dreams.<img title="Cusco town square, from restaurant, Cusco, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206964800/p1020415.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Cusco town square, from restaurant, Cusco, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206964800.p1020413.jpg"> In the afternoon we visited an old Inca temple that had been converted by the Spanish into a Dominican monastery (but which the Peruvians had not got round to converting into a hotel). That rubbing the noses of the local religions into the dirt through the imposition of Christianity was typical of the Spanish of old. The beautiful mosque that the Moors built in Cordoba had a Catholic Cathedral built right in the centre of it when it was taken over by the Spanish. How they could be so high minded yet mean spirited at the same time is beyond me. <img title="Dominican monastery (spot the Inca temple), Cusco, Peru" alt="Dominican monastery (spot the Inca temple), Cusco, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206964800.p1020415.jpg"> Talking of which, when we got back to the Hotel Monastario and wanted to go on line, we were told that yes, they did have wi-fi but it would cost us $10 for the privilege of using it. I explained to them that I had not paid for wi-fi in any other hotel in South America and they waived the charge (but one of the hotel flunkeys entered the password in my machine in case, God forbid, I tried to go on line a second time for nothing). Overall I found the Monastario was a pretentious hotel run by Accountants looking for a bottom line rather than Hoteliers looking to give good service to their customers. Or, as my Mum might have put it, all fur coat and no knickers. Jane was not really looking forward to the next day, when we had a ten hour train ride to Puno, another 1,000 metres higher than the 3,000 we were already at, so we had a quiet meal at a local pizza restaurant and went to bed early. Overall, Cusco was interesting and could have been a lot more fun under different circumstances.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206836940/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206836940/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206836940/tpod.html Mon, 07 Apr 2008 21:51:43 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Machu Picchu, Peru

Early morning, Friday 28 March, we were picked up early from Villa Marlena and driven the 20km or so to Ollantaytambo station (track 29?...errrr, no, there was only one platform). We were due to board the Hiram Bingham train to Aguas Calientes, at the foot of the mountain leading to Machu Picchu. We boarded the train which, after 30 years of Network South Central and its various abominable incarnations, was of a parallel universe. Yes, it was a train, with an engine and carriages and everything, but there the similarity ended: Before boarding, a uniformed guard sought me out 'Can I look at your ticket sir...Ahhh Mr Back; if you'd like to follow me sir, you are in carriage A just along here' (Network South Central: 'dunno when the 8.27's arriving'). <img title="On the Hiram Bingham train, Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020377.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="On the Hiram Bingham train, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020303.jpg"> Once on board we were shown to our table and armchairs (armchairs?) and asked if we would care for a drink. A four course brunch with wine followed. (NSC: 'Got yer money stuck in the chocolate machine mate? Nuffink I can do about it, is there?). Along the way, the carriage guide gave us a running commentary 'if you look to your left, you'll see the start of the famous Inca trail' (NSC: 'We've been held at a red signal for the last twenty minutes; I've no idea why....') The only downside to the journey was the table behind us. Having roundly criticized so many from other nations for their behavior in public, it was the turn of the Brits. A Scotsman and his English wife, accompanied by their silent Mrs. Warboys-ish companion were spouting forth to an American couple about any subject that happened to crop up..... 'of course we are interested in your elections...we British realise that the President of the United States is the most important man on earth'....'our musical tastes are extremely varied, but you can't underestimate the effect of Buddy Holly until his untimely suicide in the seventies'....etc. etc. I really wanted to use Vaughan Dean's line on him: 'you know, listening to you I've realised that between us we have total and universal knowledge. You seem to know absolutely everything about everything except that you are a complete bore, and I know that..... But I sat and ground my teeth. As Jane said 'ignore them; just drink your wine, enjoy the journey and thank God it's not Network South Central' After a relaxing trip of about one and a half hours, we reached Aguas Calientes and checked into the Inkaterra Hotel. That afternoon, we were taken by bus up the Hiram Bingham highway (a zig-zagging single track dirt road with coaches thundering along in both directions) up to the lost city of Machu Picchu. Well it was lost until discovered by, yup, you've guessed it.......Hiram Bingham, back in 1911..<img title="Machu Picchu from above, Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020392.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Machu Picchu from above, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020305.jpg"> The walk up the final couple of hundred metres left us a bit breathless, but never the less it was well worth the effort. Rather than me try to convey the spectacle, try looking at http://www.labyrinthina.com/bingham.htm. <img title="...and from below, Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020357.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="...and from below, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020335.jpg"> Probably the most impressive aspect of the city is the way it has been restored - only by comparing the present state with photos taken by Bingham at the time of discovery can one fully grasp the extent of the work that has gone into the restoration. As we wandered round the city we passed our favourite Scotsman, who was loudly lecturing his guide on Inca architecture...... Unfortunately for me, Christine Corner had nobbled Jane just before we left for South America and impressed upon her that if there was one thing we just had to do during the trip, it was see the sun rise over Machu Picchu. Thus it was that the alarm clock duly rang at 4.30 the following morning. Fortunately, there were other nutters like us (and Christine) around the place, and breakfast was served from 5am. We caught the first coach up at 5.30, and made the last part of the climb by a little after 6, ready for the sunrise. Nobody had told the weather we were coming, and the presence of the rain clouds and swirling mist meant....no visible sunrise. <img title="the next morning..., Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020369.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="the next morning..., Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020346.jpg"><img title="...and ten minutes later, Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020305.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="...and ten minutes later, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020357.jpg"> Having mentally made a note to thank Christine next time I saw her, we quickly recovered from the disappointment and set off to explore Machu Picchu in the company of far fewer tourists and loads of llamas, which was great. <img title="with the llamas, Machu Picchu, Peru" alt="with the llamas, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020369.jpg"> <img title="perfect!, Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020396.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="perfect!, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020377.jpg">The only problem was that Jane had started to suffer from altitude sickness, so we gingerly made our way down. We couldn't understand Jane's problem; at around 2,400m., Miachu Picchu was no higher than the Atacama desert. We spent a relaxing afternoon kicking around the hotel and that afternoon, we boarded the Hiram Bingham train to travel to Cusco and the next part of the trip. Whilst waiting for the train to start, we got talking to an English family who we had seen on the outward trip. As we chatted, the Scots bore and party appeared on the platform. The three and a half hour trip back suddenly expanded into an eternity......and then they got in the next carriage. A collective sigh of relief passed through our carriage. It turned out that the English family had been sitting the other side of him on the outward trip and had suffered just like us. Had we but known, we could have carried out an effective pincer movement.... <img title="Met with cold towels.., Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020303.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Met with cold towels.., Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020392.jpg">The trip back to Cuzco was uneventful, with a five course meal seemingly expanding to fill the three and a half hour trip time. Both of us feeling slightly queasy, what with all this altitude..... <img title="Pre-dinner on the train, Machu Picchu, Peru" style="CURSOR: pointer" onclick="location.href='/travel-photo/terryback/1/1206836940/p1020346.jpg/tpod.html'" alt="Pre-dinner on the train, Machu Picchu, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206836940.p1020396.jpg">
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206704700/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206704700/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/terryback/1/1206704700/tpod.html Sun, 06 Apr 2008 15:51:21 -0400 South America - according to Terry

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Urubamba, Peru

Tuesday 25th in the afternoon we travelled by bus from the Atacama desert to Calama airport. We flew from Calama to Santiago, and stayed overnight at the Holiday Inn at Santiago Airport. The hotel was literally across the road from the terminal, and we grabbed a bite to eat, slept, then re-crossed the road at 6.30 the next morning for the flight to Cusco, Peru, via Lima. The travelling element of the trip, the flying and bussing, was getting to be a bit of a pain in the neck; I mean, the percentage of the total waking hours of the trip that was taken up by travelling time was (Terry - short version please...Jane)...oh well. We had a slight upset at the Chilean end of LAN airlines, having been caught for US$64 / 8kg. excess baggage when we checked in at Santiago. I blamed Jane, as she started 3kg over at Heathrow, and just grew from there. My bag was spot on. When we landed at Lima, we had to re-check the luggage and lo and behold, Chilean kgs are smaller than Peruvian kgs! Well, either that or those nice people at LAN Santiago had ripped us off. I wondered what that fat, greasy thumb was doing on the scales. (no racial stereotyping there, then). Anyway, a sharp note to Mr LAN in Chile will follow via e-mail......if only I can stop relaxing and get on with it. What the hell.<img alt="The Sacred Valley.., Urubamba, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206704700.p1020223.jpg"> Wednesday lunchtime and were driven from Cusco down into the Sacred Valley of the Incas. As ever, great views. We were staying right in the middle of the Sacred Valley for 2 nights in a village called Urubamba. The hotel comprised seven separate villas, each named after its cook/housekeeper, who was there to attend to your needs during your stay. We stayed at Villa Marlena, having been booked into Villa Sonia originally. I guess we'll never know.... The villa was really lovely and Marlena's cooking was competent. That's it Terry, damn her with that faint praise of yours. <img alt="Villa Marlena..., Urubamba, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206704700.p1020289.jpg">She did, however, introduce us to coca tea, for which I will be eternally grateful, apart from when I'm arrested for possession in Starbucks. One of the things that coca tea is good for is altitude sickness (unfortunately for me, it's not nearly as good for attitude sickness) and we would increasingly use it as we suffered over the ensuing days (not that I couldn't have stopped drinking it at any time I wanted......I was only being sociable) Oliver, our guide the next day expanded on the other properties of Coca leaves. 'Chewing coca leaves is how the Incas could manage to work moving heavy stones the whole day non-stop' he told us...'but it's not dangerous - to say Coca leaves are bad for you because of cocaine is like saying that grapes are bad for you because of wine'. OK Oliver but I'm not about to lift six times my own weight after a bunch of seedless Waitrose white grapes now, am I? Personally, I think we should import coca leaves in the UK and feed them to the site staff of whichever utility company is ripping up London's streets at that point in time. Only an idea..... Wednesday afternoon, we had a walk around Urubamba. Immediate thoughts - most of the women really do wear those funny hats and there were more dogs in Peru than Argentina, but less poo....how come? I struggled because of the altitude and heat; Jane walked on briskly (come on slowcoach, only another mile or so....)<img alt="Terraces at Ollanataytambo, Urubamba, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206704700.p1020251.jpg"> Thursday Oliver took us through the Sacred Valley to Inca sites at Ollantaytambo and Pisac. I'd never studied the Incas, and was completely unprepared for the level of sophistication they showed in architecture, mathematics, agriculture, astronomy and, errr, child sacrifice. <img alt="Pisac - More terraces, Urubamba, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206704700.p1020261.jpg">The basis of their religion sounded a lot more folksy and, well, logical than Christianity in many ways. However, even the discredited antics of the Christian Brothers pale into insignificance when compared with the Incas. Apparently, when the Spanish turned up, there were about 1,000 youngsters lined up for an early (blood)bath. <img alt="Pisac - kanckered..., Urubamba, Peru" src="http://images.travelpod.com/users/terryback/1.1206704700.p1020271.jpg"> Oliver went into the looting of the Incas by the Spaniards in great detail, and I'm sure that I was able to cheer him up by telling him that a great deal of the looted gold never made it back to Madrid, having been purloined by Brits such as Francis Drake on the way. He did say that the Spanish were a civilising influence when it came to head shaping. Apparently, the Incas used to bind the skulls of the women from the highlands to elongate their heads, and to flatten the skulls of the women from the lowlands. This involved a great deal of pain, just to assign a post code. Well, some bright Spaniard came along and said instead of all this suffering, why don't you just get the highland people to wear tall hats, and the lowland people to wear low hats. That way, no-one gets hurt (like they cared) and they could introduce mobility of labour through a simple trip to the milliners. Apparently, that's why the women wear the hats even today. I don't know whether he was winding us up or not. Sounded good though. The next morning, Friday, we set off for Machu picchu.
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