La Paz, Bolivia

La Paz is one of the most outrageous cities I’ve ever been to. Of course everywhere in Bolivia has to be “the world’s……..” something, and this capital reigns as “the world’s highest capital city” (elevation 3,660 meters/12,007 feet), despite that fact that it lies in a valley. A sweet, pollution trapping valley. When you arrive from the top of the canyon the first sight is buildings, houses and lights as far as your eyes can see. It feels excitingly exotic, and as you descend into the thick of it, you start to catch a glimpse of just how chaotic this city really is. There are indigenous people side by side with people in suits on every single corner. There is not one super market, and it is the 2nd biggest city in the country – only small stores, tiendas and kiosks everywhere. As you walk down the street you can literally buy anything you want, from shampoo to batteries to hats to fruit to alpaca meat on a stick… and that is just one little old lady’s stand.

In the Witch’s Market you can find potions and concoctions that you can’t even imagine existed, not to mention dried llama fetuses of all shapes and sizes (they bring good luck to a new home). There are food markets and booths everywhere, selling set meals for as cheap as 6 bolivianos (soup and entrée for 85 cents) and fresh, delicious empanadas for half that price. For a reason I have yet to uncover, there are people in zebra costumes directing traffic, and they are surprisingly enthusiastic about their job.

As you can imagine, the sites, sounds and smells of this city can be overwhelming at times. After traveling to many places in the world, I crave cities like this; bizarre, tumultuous and dynamic. Not to mention incredibly inexpensive! Whereas a handmade alpaca sweater might cost around $200 USD elsewhere, here they run about $20 for the “tourist price”. Beautiful clothes and jewelry line the central streets of the city, and if I wasn’t carrying my life on back I would have invested in a whole new wardrobe. C’est la vie.

It happened that we were in this abnormal setting for yet another abnormal Thanksgiving together. During our time in Amsterdam we ‘feasted’ on turkey lunch meat, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. In Bolivia I couldn’t even find one restaurant serving an American meal, so we ended up at an international establishment which happened to have on their menu pumpkin cream soup – so that, veggie risotto and a large beer made up this holiday which is clearly meaningless out of the U.S. But going to bed stuffed and a bit buzzed is really what it’s all about anyway, right?

gotta love The Point hostels!

So, survived La Paz, survived Route 36 and survived bicycling the “world’s most dangerous road”. Located just outside of the city, this single lane, unpaved road is, as you can imagine, incredibly unsafe. There is no guard rail and the drop offs are up to 2,000 feet. Instant death, for sure. Many cyclists from around the world have died trying to make their way down this road, and car/bus accidents have caused hundreds of deaths and will continue to do so as long as they use this route instead of another. The three of us plus our guide, Kevin, had a nice and adrenalin filled day conquering Death Road – the views are stunning, but you almost don’t dare to look and take your focus off the tiny road your life depends on. At the end you’re rewarded with a nice, cold beer – nothing makes you feel more alive!

Very disappointingly, one thing I did NOT survive was "the world's spiciest vindaloo". At the Star of India restaurant, if you complete the dish you receive a t-shirt announcing to the world "I survived the world's spiciest vindaloo". Obviously, worth the undertaking. After all my time in Asia and love for the hottest foods possible, I miserably failed and only made it through half of this unbelievably, out of this world, over the top, riiiiidiculously firey dish! When you looked at, all you could see were chili seeds. When you ate it, all you could do was burn, burn, burn, inside and out. The guy at the table next to us dry heaved (twice) and almost threw up at the table while eating it. After, he offered to sell me the shirt for a hundred bucks. Cheeky bastard.

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Lago Titicaca - Perú > Bolivia

I love the fact that everything in South America is so extreme, and what would be more fitting then to go from “one of the world’s deepest canyons” to “the world’s highest altitude lake”. Not only does it have a name worth snickering at, but Lake Titicaca also sits at 3,811 meters/12,500 feet and belongs to two countries, Peru and Bolivia. We first headed for the Peru side of the lake, via a town called Puno. In hindsight, it was a mistake, but hindsight is always 20/20. Puno is a hole. A nasty, boring hole with little to offer. Sorry Puno, but it’s true. We took a boat to the Floating Islands, aka, “The World’s Biggest Tourist Trap”. Ohh la la. At one point these islands were home to the Uros people and are completely “artificial” islands, composed of mass amounts of reeds which are everywhere on the lake.

Currently, the people inhabiting these islands are not Uros at all, as the tribe has disappeared over time; and as the years have passed, these islands have become like a reed filled Disneyland, and most of us were completely disenchanted. However, the boat ride was serene and incredibly beautiful, so we passed the afternoon catching some sun and staring at the cool blue waters of this historical lake.

Our next stop was the island of Taquile, home to indigenous people and remarkable views. We made the hike to the main square at the peak of the island and caught glimpses of the quiet local life all around. As it was Sunday, there were some traditional ceremonies taking place and it was quite interesting to observe. For lunch we took fresh trout from the lake on a patio with an amazing view ($3.25) and eventually made the scenic walk back to our trusty boat. We planned to spend the night on this island with a family, as homestays are a popular option here, but after a quick assessment of the situation we decided it was all too contrived and headed back to Puno for a cheap night in the hostel before heading out early the next day.

Oh, Bolivia. How I wish it didn’t cost $135 USD to step foot into your crazy country! Only for us lucky North Americans, that is. It’s not like I personally charge foreigners obscene amounts of money to come to the US, but I guess I’ll pay the price…

We arrived in Copacabana, and it’s not exactly like Barry Manilow was singing about, although there’s a chance he was thinking of the world’s most beautiful beach, Copacabana, Brazil. Just maybe. But the town isn’t without its charm, and the mirador proved to be the most picturesque way to enjoy a bird’s eye view. Moments like that one make you feel like the whole world is quite alright!

The following day another boat dumped us on the shores of Isla Del Sol. This island is enthralling not only because it’s bursting with beauty, but also because it is the birth place of the Incas. Today, there are no motor vehicles or paved roads, not so different from when it was first inhabited (3rd millennium BCE). Approximately 800 families live there, and it’s believed that the Sun God rose from the waters onto this island, which started the religion of the Incas. The nearby Isla Del Luna is where he commanded the Moon to rise from.

view of Isla Del Luna, from Isla Del Sol

With this vision in mind, Douglas, Nicolas and I set out on a simple walk around the island for the afternoon. Apparently ‘simple’ is not something we can actually achieve, although no complaints because we explored the entire island thoroughly. Like déjà vu from the Colca Canyon, in our attempt to avoid paying the tourist tickets at various points we got “lost” and spent a good amount of time trekking up and down in the wrong directions. As this island is small and not “the world’s deepest canyon”, it wasn’t nearly so worrisome. We found what had to be the most beautiful beach of the island just in time for a late lunch. Not a bad way to spend a Tuesday afternoon!

That evening proved completely ridiculous, and the avoidance of another tourist ticket got us driven out of the north east part of the island. We took shelter in a nearby eco refuge who didn’t seem to mind (or know) that we were convicts in hiding who refused to pay $2 on points of the highest principle. The cold beer was amazing, the sunset was stunning, Dougie’s sickness from bad water was wrenching, the night was fantastically freezing. A suitable start to three weeks of adventure in Bolivia!

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Canyon Country - Perú

In the trekking spirit, we headed south from Cusco to Arequpia, a city known for beauty and nightlife, with surrounding volcanoes and canyons for extra excitement. After renting a tent, buying a cheap sleeping bag and some necessary food items, the three of us (Douglas, Nicolas & myself) headed into the Colca Canyon with our gear and a crappy (free) map from a tour agency. The Colca Canyon is the second deepest in the world, second only to its neighbor, the Canyon de Cotahuasi. For some perspective, it is 3,191 meters/10,469 feet deep, or twice as deep as the Grand Canyon!

After 6 hours on various forms of transport, we arrived in Cabanaconde, the nearest town to start the descent into the canyon. We put our tent in the garden of a hostel for 5 Soles for the night (about $1.50) and headed out early the next morning. We met some others along the way; our friend Felipe from Rio that we kept running into in every city, Lucy from Sydney, Nik from Holland and Axel from Belgium. After the initial dramatic views from the top, we started to make our way down the path of loose rocks to the river that runs along the length of the bottom of the canyon.

view of Oasis from the top. went hours to the right to get down, then hours to the left to get back to this zig-zag road, then hours to the bottom to camp for the night

A few hours and some sore knees later, we made it to the lowest point of the gorge, where you theoretically should present the guard at the bridge with your “tourist ticket” (about $13). As we had no intention of buying said ticket, we decided to cross the river before the bridge. Dougie crossed it with monkey like efficiency, Nipi also had no problems. I was weary about their way because the leaps from rock to rock were huge, so Nik, Axel and myself headed farther down to find an “easier” way. Axel made the first attempt…. and fell in the water with his backpack and all. Not cool with a big, nice camera inside. Nik and I tried yet another route, and after he made it across I felt some confidence. Half way through I realized it was harder then it looked, and Nipi came out to meet me on the rocks and be there for stability after each jump. Like a real brother, always looking out!

The quest to avoid the tourist ticket didn’t end there, as we had to make it up the side of the mountain without a road, just cutting through farms and forests straight up the side of a hill. When we all finally re-convened in the nearest little ‘town’ at a restaurant that served lunch, we were exhausted and hot from the rising heat of the desert, yet triumphant in the fact that we’d made it that far. The second half of the day should have consisted of an uphill walk, then a flat walk, then another descent to again reach the floor of the canyon in the Oasis where there are bungalows for the night. However, our modest map and not-so-keen sense of direction got us lost twice, and we spent time and energy going in the wrong directions. Frusterating after an already long morning and under the intense sun, but when we finally got back on track it all became beautiful once again. Just before sundown we made it to the Oasis, a green spot in the midst of the desert, complete with pools and palm trees, “just like Miami”. Well, maybe it was just a mirage, but it looked damn good in any case!

campsite

Camped there for free and only had to buy the slightly overpriced dinner and beer in return. A nice bonfire warmed the cold night, and it wasn’t hard to fall asleep huddled in our little tent on the soft ground after such a long day. While the others were up and out by 5 or 6 a.m., we took our time and left around 9:30. Big mistake. The hike back to the top of the canyon was literally straight up; no descents, no flat parts, no rest for the weary, just straight up. Soon it was scorching hot and the desert sun was beating down on us. Oh, and we opted to skip breakfast that day, as the place we stayed was charging way too much for a simple desayuno (about $2.25). The 5 liters of water we were carrying between the 3 of us was soon gone and at points I thought we were all going to die and the vultures were going to have a feast that fateful day.

Finally, after 3 unbelievably long hours, we made it to the top. Alive! By the time we got to a little restaurant in the main square, we collapsed at the table and then inhaled the normally mundane chicken and rice set lunch. Then a Snickers. Then an ice cream. Then massive amounts of water. The cramped bus ride back to Arequpia was painful because our tall bodies weren’t exactly meant for the Peruvian buses – the aching muscles and stiff joints were shoved in tiny seats for 6 straight hours. Good thing the bus was already dirty and stinky, at least we had that going for us.

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Salkantay trek to Machu Picchu

The Kingdom of Cusco was founded around the year 1200 and was the historic capital of the mighty Inca Empire. Although it’s been nearly 500 years since the Spanish conquistadors arrived to reek havoc on this amazing civilization, you can still feel the Inca presence everywhere. Nowadays, Cusco has the nostalgic feel of cobble stone streets and ancient buildings – but unfortunately many of those buildings are churches and the style is colonial, not to mention that the town is completely geared toward tourism and almost nothing else. However, it is quite lovely and the night life is downright rowdy, so good times were had both day and night. And then came Nipi!!!!

Another great friend from our time in Amsterdam – the one and only Nicolas Baume. Even though I was lying in bed in the fetal position for 24 hours when he arrived (got too cocky about the amount of tap water my body could take!), I felt as euphoric as one in that (fetal) position could feel. Amazing reunion!

We immediately booked our trek to Machu Picchu – and after some consideration of different paths, decided on the Salkantay Trek. 5 days, about 100 kilometers/60 miles, reaching an elevation of 4,600 meters/15,000 feet! Our group consisted of 16 people from 9 different countries, 2 guides, 2 porters and 3 cooks.

Day 1: Bus at 5 a.m., breakfast at the trail head, then started an intense day of mostly uphill trekking. The afternoon was crystal clear and blazing hot and poor Nipi was getting sick the entire time. Made it to the hut where lunch was waiting – killer views (and killer sandflies)! A much needed siesta after a nice meal of soup & beef stir fry, then back for another 4 hours of hiking. We were continually elevating in altitude, and the view of Salkantay Mountain (completely covered in snow and ice) was getting closer and closer. The last hour was rough; the sun disappeared, temperatures dropped drastically, rain set in. At the camp we had coca tea and popcorn while trying to get dry and warm (although neither was really possible). Coca tea is served everywhere in Peru and Bolivia – it is used to combat altitude sickness and acts as a very minor stimulant. The coca leaves are directly steeped in hot water and sugar can be added for flavor. An early dinner followed, and after everyone immediately went to their tents to try to get warm and get some sleep. Again, neither possible. I was the third of the group to get sick that day, was a rough night back and forth between the outdoor latrine in the freezing cold.

Day 2: Up at 5:30, coca tea delivered to our tents. Ate about 1 bite of breakfast, stomach still with shooting pains. Ended up taking a horse for the first 3 hours of the day, and while normally it would have been a magical ride through the mountains, as a matter of pride it was not ideal. Mid-day we reached the peak of the trek: 4,600 meters/15,000 feet. Was cold and cloudy so high up, but also invigorating and uniquely attractive. Following Quicha tradition, we offered stones to the already existing piles as a gift to the Mountain, and also offered 3 coca leaves with a blessing of our choice for each one. For the next 2 hours descended into an amazing valley; stones everywhere, lush greens, waterfalls, cloud forest, small farms and animals, all part of the rain forest. After lunch and siesta we continued to descend, only this time in the rain. Our pace was fast and no one really spoke, as we all wanted to get to camp for the night and out of the downpour. But the walk was still stunning and felt even more adventurous because of the climate. Finally at camp by dinner time, had more tea and soup along with pasta. Another early night, little bit chilly in the mountains with all the wet clothes!

Day 3: Slept great, up at 6 with coca tea delivered to the tent. The day was perfect; everyone feeling well again, bright blue skies, warm weather, walking along singing “We All Live in a Yellow Submarine.” The pace was easy in comparison to the two days previous, but we still covered a lot of ground, just “undulating” in elevation as opposed to straight ups and downs. We walked along the banks of the river for a lot of the time, which was soothing and picturesque. Had a buffet style lunch and everyone happily chowed after hiking all morning – followed by a siesta and a short bus ride to our next camp. As a group we all went to the towns natural thermal baths (hot springs) late that afternoon, and relaxed our aching muscles in the hot water and eased our dry throats with cold beer. At sundown went back to camp for another buffet style meal where we all ate too much and played with the resident monkey, Poncho, before a “late” bed (9:30).

Day 4: Up at 7 and after breakfast started the first half of the day on a dirt road through the mountains, a cloudy day but a blessing to be away from any extreme temperatures. After a few hours, got to the National Park checkpoint and gave our info, with a little extra pep in our step after that. Lunch was relaxing and we continued to walk along the train tracks, en route to Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu. The hours that followed felt like the movie Stand By Me. Following the train tracks on some slightly crazy yet unbelievable journey. The growing excitement of getting so close to your destination – seeing the mountains take the same forms as the ones you know from seeing a hundred pictures of this area, feeling the clouds sporadically sink in around the hills to create a kind of mystical presence, knowing that thousands of years ago the Incas paved the way for the route you’re walking on…and all the build up to see something that everyone in the group has their own personal connection with. Not to mention the feeling of being pursued all the while, as everyone is in a race to be the firsts in the gates when they open for that flawless view. We had a very timely night as our plan was to wake up “early”.

Day 5: Up at 3:30 a.m. The bottom gate of the park is supposed to open at 4:50 a.m., while the top gate opens at 6. If you take a bus you can leave at 5:30 and arrived around 5:50 a.m. If you walk it is 35-45 minutes straight up hill, so you could potentially arrive before the first bus gets there. We arrived to the bottom gate at 4:15 and bribed our way in. Whatever works. The climb up the thousands of Inca stairs was extremely intense and there was no time for breaks; it almost felt like the Spanish conquistadors were pursuing us the whole way, a race against the invisible enemy. Dawn came and the sky started to open, and the whole scenario was beyond words, but the feeling was incredible. The anticipation was adrenalin, and a much needed one after the 4 long days we’d just put our bodies through. At the gates there were only 2 sly French guys ahead of us, so we were #’s 3, 4, 5 etc. to get in for the day. Great success!

Machu Picchu: The “lost” city of the Incas, never to be found by Spanish conquistadors. While they were busy taking everything & everyone they could get their hands on from Cajamarca to Cusco (and all points in between), they never found this breathtaking site. It is so isolated and impressive, so mysterious and magnificent. Because the Incas never developed a form of writing, the purpose of Machu Picchu is not exactly known; although it’s estimated that at one time about 600 people lived there. The first views made me laugh – it was absolutely perfect in its grandeur and sheer beauty. As the morning progressed we had time with our guide who told us all about the different areas of Machu Picchu and more about the history of the people. The Salkantay trek to Machu Picchu was one of the better experiences of my entire life, and I hope everyone who wants to see this site will take the time to make it happen while they are still able.

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