Crossing the border from Bolivia to Peru, the signs of rioting remained evident. Many of the shops were closed and the road was covered in parts by large rocks and the remnants of fires. Luckily for us however, the upcoming Peruvian elections had resulted in a short break in protests and we made it to Puno uninterrupted.
Although Puno was only really a brief stop on the way to Arequipa, we decided that we may as well check out the floating islands of the Uros people whilst there. The Islas del Uros are made of totora reeds and literally float on Lake Titicaca. Originally, it is believed that the Uros people reached Lake Titicaca from the Amazon and settled on the shores of the lake before coming under increasing pressure and attack from the expanding Inca empire. In order to avoid the Inca, the Uros people took to the lakes and have continued living there to date. Unfortunately however, it is difficult to view the islands today as anything other than a bit of a tourist gimic. There was little to no evidence of the fishing industry which is supposedly the main stay of the Uros tribespeople and far too much evidence of the islands being nothing more than a floating market where the local people sold pretty much all of the same dross available at every other market in South America. On the bright side however, it was a lovely day and Crystal and I got a solid hour of soaking up the rays before taking our boat back to the main land.
As there was little else to do in Puno - although the band accompanied election parades were entertaining - we booked our bus to Arequipa and continued on our merry way.
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Copacabana and Isla del Sol
We regretably decided to be a bit lazy and book a small tour to Isla del Sol from La Paz. I say regretably because our guide was pretty much entirely useless and we could and probably should have done it easily by ourselves.
We were picked up from our hostel early in the morning for the three and a half hour trip to Copacabana, which sits on the shores of Lake Titicaca not far from the Peruvian border. Before leaving, we had heard that the Peruvian border at Puno had finally re-opened after three weeks of protesting and rioting by Peruvian farmers in opposition to the proposed establishment of a mine on the Bolivian side of the border. However, within an hour of setting out from La Paz, we hit a new protest and a new road block, this time apparently by a transport syndicate that objected to the fact that tourist buses were not part of their syndicate. Fortunately for us, our bus driver knew a driver stuck on the far side of the blockade and we were able to get off the bus, grab our bags and walk past the blockade, swapping with the passengers on the other bus. The other tourists were not so lucky and all of their buses had to return to La Paz.
The next entertainment en route, although this time expected, was the fact that at one point we were all required to disembark such that the bus could be ferried across a small canal between Lake Titicaca and a smaller lake. Whilst it appeared at times that the bus and the ferry it was mounted on were dangerously close to sinking, it made it across and we were reunited with the bus and our baggage on the other side.
If only Copacabana had half of the entertainment and excitement to offer! Whilst it supposedly (according to our suspiciously uninformed guide) gave its name to the more famous Copacabana beach in Brasil, the beach was an absolute horror show. It was disgusting, dirty and it did not look like a single one of the dozens of run down pedalos had been used in years. The whole town smelled of urine. The only redeeming factors were the amazing cathedral which displayed heavy moorish influences and would have been at home in most major European cities and Calgary Hill, a steep hill overlooking both the town and the lake with stunning views from the top. Rather off putting however was the small Catholic church between the two dedicated to the "God of money"! We climbed Calgary Hill and soon became concerned regarding whether our guide would make it to the top. Whilst we aren´t exactly the fittest people in the world, our guide was bright red and sucking wind on about the third step. By the time we were half way up, we had to stop for a while to avoid him dropping dead of a heart attack - not very promising given the main event of the trip was a full day trek on Isla del Sol. The stop half way up however proved to be worth it as we were able to witness a local woman having her spirit cleansed and invoking the support of the Aymara gods against her many enemies. The ceremony was conducted by a local shaman with the support of large amounts of incense and splashes of alcohol. Our guide asked if we wanted to undergo a similar ceremony and seemed slightly offended when we said no. He looked even more put out when we did not agree to skip climbing the rest of the hill. Good times.
Never mind however, our reason for stopping in Copacabana was not the town itself but rather to visit Isla del Sol. Believed by Inca, Quechua and Aymara to be the birthplace of the sun, the island is the location of the most significant Inca ruins in Bolivia. We arrived on the island in the early morning and were immediately pleasantly surprised by how much cleaner the lake was and the fact that there were some quite nice little beaches. We landed in the north of the island and began making our way south. The track skirted the edges of the island, slowly working higher to around 4100 metres. The altitude afforded brilliant views out over the lake and even without the Inca sites along the route were good enough in themselves to justify the visit to the island and the five hour hike. That said, the Inca ruins certainly added to the experience. Having stopped to gather eucalyptus leaves to enable our guide to continue breathing, our first proper stop was at a large stone believed to have been the rock against which the Inca used to sacrifice virgins in honour of the gods. We continued on past a few odd and unimpressive rock formations attributed to be the foot steps of the sun god and a large puma respectively. From these formations, I have deduced that the sun god had oddly misshapen and different sized feet and a puma must look awefully like a run of the mill rock.
The next stop however, was at a medium sized temple complex and our first proper Inca ruin. It was very cool. Although I almost laughed out loud when our guide stated that the temple was like a labyrinth because each room joined onto another (most buildings do this last time I checked), the temple certainly was impressive. It cascaded down the hill side and despite being ruined it was intact enough that could easily imagine what it would have looked like prior to the arrival of the Spanish.
After the first temple, our trek took us the length of the island and afforded many more amazing views before arriving at the temple of the sun god in the far south of the island shortly before sunset. The temple of the sun god was not nearly as remarkable as the first ruin however, if our guide was to be believed, was precisely engineered such that at the solstice the sun would shin through a small opening illuminating the front chamber of the temple.
We enjoyed a nice quiet night on the island (and numerous more examples of guide incompetence and belligerence which we wont bother filling our blog with) before returning to Copacabana and bording a bus to Puno, where the border remained open - fortunately.
We were picked up from our hostel early in the morning for the three and a half hour trip to Copacabana, which sits on the shores of Lake Titicaca not far from the Peruvian border. Before leaving, we had heard that the Peruvian border at Puno had finally re-opened after three weeks of protesting and rioting by Peruvian farmers in opposition to the proposed establishment of a mine on the Bolivian side of the border. However, within an hour of setting out from La Paz, we hit a new protest and a new road block, this time apparently by a transport syndicate that objected to the fact that tourist buses were not part of their syndicate. Fortunately for us, our bus driver knew a driver stuck on the far side of the blockade and we were able to get off the bus, grab our bags and walk past the blockade, swapping with the passengers on the other bus. The other tourists were not so lucky and all of their buses had to return to La Paz.
The next entertainment en route, although this time expected, was the fact that at one point we were all required to disembark such that the bus could be ferried across a small canal between Lake Titicaca and a smaller lake. Whilst it appeared at times that the bus and the ferry it was mounted on were dangerously close to sinking, it made it across and we were reunited with the bus and our baggage on the other side.
If only Copacabana had half of the entertainment and excitement to offer! Whilst it supposedly (according to our suspiciously uninformed guide) gave its name to the more famous Copacabana beach in Brasil, the beach was an absolute horror show. It was disgusting, dirty and it did not look like a single one of the dozens of run down pedalos had been used in years. The whole town smelled of urine. The only redeeming factors were the amazing cathedral which displayed heavy moorish influences and would have been at home in most major European cities and Calgary Hill, a steep hill overlooking both the town and the lake with stunning views from the top. Rather off putting however was the small Catholic church between the two dedicated to the "God of money"! We climbed Calgary Hill and soon became concerned regarding whether our guide would make it to the top. Whilst we aren´t exactly the fittest people in the world, our guide was bright red and sucking wind on about the third step. By the time we were half way up, we had to stop for a while to avoid him dropping dead of a heart attack - not very promising given the main event of the trip was a full day trek on Isla del Sol. The stop half way up however proved to be worth it as we were able to witness a local woman having her spirit cleansed and invoking the support of the Aymara gods against her many enemies. The ceremony was conducted by a local shaman with the support of large amounts of incense and splashes of alcohol. Our guide asked if we wanted to undergo a similar ceremony and seemed slightly offended when we said no. He looked even more put out when we did not agree to skip climbing the rest of the hill. Good times.
Never mind however, our reason for stopping in Copacabana was not the town itself but rather to visit Isla del Sol. Believed by Inca, Quechua and Aymara to be the birthplace of the sun, the island is the location of the most significant Inca ruins in Bolivia. We arrived on the island in the early morning and were immediately pleasantly surprised by how much cleaner the lake was and the fact that there were some quite nice little beaches. We landed in the north of the island and began making our way south. The track skirted the edges of the island, slowly working higher to around 4100 metres. The altitude afforded brilliant views out over the lake and even without the Inca sites along the route were good enough in themselves to justify the visit to the island and the five hour hike. That said, the Inca ruins certainly added to the experience. Having stopped to gather eucalyptus leaves to enable our guide to continue breathing, our first proper stop was at a large stone believed to have been the rock against which the Inca used to sacrifice virgins in honour of the gods. We continued on past a few odd and unimpressive rock formations attributed to be the foot steps of the sun god and a large puma respectively. From these formations, I have deduced that the sun god had oddly misshapen and different sized feet and a puma must look awefully like a run of the mill rock.
The next stop however, was at a medium sized temple complex and our first proper Inca ruin. It was very cool. Although I almost laughed out loud when our guide stated that the temple was like a labyrinth because each room joined onto another (most buildings do this last time I checked), the temple certainly was impressive. It cascaded down the hill side and despite being ruined it was intact enough that could easily imagine what it would have looked like prior to the arrival of the Spanish.
After the first temple, our trek took us the length of the island and afforded many more amazing views before arriving at the temple of the sun god in the far south of the island shortly before sunset. The temple of the sun god was not nearly as remarkable as the first ruin however, if our guide was to be believed, was precisely engineered such that at the solstice the sun would shin through a small opening illuminating the front chamber of the temple.
We enjoyed a nice quiet night on the island (and numerous more examples of guide incompetence and belligerence which we wont bother filling our blog with) before returning to Copacabana and bording a bus to Puno, where the border remained open - fortunately.
La Paz
We arrived in La Paz late evening and immediately noticed the difference in altitude. At 3600 metres, La Paz is the highest capital city in the world and the 800 metre difference in altitude from Quito resulted in a return to shortness of breath and evening head aches for the first few days.
In order to avoid any of the more severe symptoms of altitude sickness, we took the first few days nice and easily, limiting ourselves to short walks around the central city and attractions that were close to our hostel. The hostel itself, Adventure Brew Hostel, was very good with a great bar and decent (by Bolivian standards) wifi, so taking it easy wasn´t too hard. The highlight of the first few days was certainly the Museum of Ethnology and Folklore, in particular, its spectacular room of tribal masks. The masks have been gathered from all over Bolivia and demonstrated the fantastic and diverse cultural traditions throughout the country.
We visited the witches market, in the heart of the tourist district, where local Aymara tribeswomen sell herbs, plants and all sorts of other traditional remedies and ingredients for blessings and curses - including an abundant supply of llama foeti. To be honest though, other than the shock factor of baskets of foeti, the market wasn´t of much interest.
After a few days adjusting to the altitude, we decided to get out of town and head into the mountains. La Paz is positioned on a flat plateau in the midst of the Andes known as the Altiplano and consequently has towering mountains on all sides. We decided that trying to tackle Huayna Potosi, supposedly the easiest 6000 metre plus mountain in the area to climb, was a bit much for us and so opted for the much easier, although still amazing, trip to the summit of Chacaltaya. The summit of Chacaltaya is 5300 metres above sea level but due to the existence of a dilapidated ski field near the top, requires only a few hundred metres of walking to reach the top. That said, having been dropped at 5100 metres, the few hundred metres of walking took us about 45 minutes due to the sheer exhaustion of functioning at such low oxygen levels. It was worth struggling to the top however as the view was simply amazing. 360 degree views of snow capped peaks, the vast Altiplano, La Paz and even Lake Titicaca in the far distance, it was one of the best views we have ever had. Breath-taking. Literally.
From Chacaltaya, we headed to the Valle de la Luna on the far side of La Paz, driving on the way through El Alto city, the highest in the world and also one of the poorest. El Alto was filthy and reeked of severe poverty. It was definitely not a tourist attraction but was certainly an eye opener. Unfortunately however, Valle de la Luna was not an eye opener. Having been blown away by its Chilean namesake, Valle de la Luna in La Paz was unextraordinary. Named after a moon shaped rock elevated in the centre, the Valle de la Luna consisted of a few hundred square metres of rock that had eroded over the years to form a series of jagged peaks and caves. Whilst interesting from the perspective of it being a holy site for the Aymara people, the site was far too small to have any optical impact, particularly given you could see houses and other buildings at all times throughout the walk around the site.
The following day, we were joined by Owen Jago (a mate from NZ) who took the night bus up from Sucre to join us for the weekend, and Owen and I headed off to cycle the infamous "Death Road". Whilst not nearly as deadly as it was a few years ago when it served as the main route for all traffic approaching La Paz from the Bolivian Amazon, the Death Road was still plenty hair raising for the likes of Owen and I that had last touched mountain bikes when we were kids. The first 21km of the road have now been sealed and as such were an opportunity to let go of the breaks and allow sheer momentum to whip us down the mountains at speeds I have never reached on a bike before and hopefully never will again. The remaining 32km of the road however, the Death Road proper, took us along a gravel road hugging the side of the cliff as we decended almost 1200 metres in altitude. Owen and I stuck pretty firmly to the rear of the group for much of the decent, taking the possibility of death very seriously, although towards the end got a bit more confident and managed to pass most of the girls! The ride aside however, the scenery along route was absolutely stunning and the ride was hugely enjoyable. It was however sobbering to find out a week later that a Japanese girl did actually die on the ride due to break failure. A scary thought and one which made us feel even more glad that we opted for a more expensive and reputable company.
Our final La Paz experience was one on which Crystal and I have quite differing views. Cholitas wrestling. It is basically WWF but with middle aged Bolivian women doing the wrestling. The whole night came complete with a mariachi band in which the singer was wearing a wrestling mask, Bolivian kids jumping on stage, a woman in the crowd swinging her handbag in anger at one of the wrestlers and of course, the obligatory jumping off the top of the ropes. Absurd bordering on farcical for Crystal, absurd but pretty much amazing for me.
In order to avoid any of the more severe symptoms of altitude sickness, we took the first few days nice and easily, limiting ourselves to short walks around the central city and attractions that were close to our hostel. The hostel itself, Adventure Brew Hostel, was very good with a great bar and decent (by Bolivian standards) wifi, so taking it easy wasn´t too hard. The highlight of the first few days was certainly the Museum of Ethnology and Folklore, in particular, its spectacular room of tribal masks. The masks have been gathered from all over Bolivia and demonstrated the fantastic and diverse cultural traditions throughout the country.
We visited the witches market, in the heart of the tourist district, where local Aymara tribeswomen sell herbs, plants and all sorts of other traditional remedies and ingredients for blessings and curses - including an abundant supply of llama foeti. To be honest though, other than the shock factor of baskets of foeti, the market wasn´t of much interest.
After a few days adjusting to the altitude, we decided to get out of town and head into the mountains. La Paz is positioned on a flat plateau in the midst of the Andes known as the Altiplano and consequently has towering mountains on all sides. We decided that trying to tackle Huayna Potosi, supposedly the easiest 6000 metre plus mountain in the area to climb, was a bit much for us and so opted for the much easier, although still amazing, trip to the summit of Chacaltaya. The summit of Chacaltaya is 5300 metres above sea level but due to the existence of a dilapidated ski field near the top, requires only a few hundred metres of walking to reach the top. That said, having been dropped at 5100 metres, the few hundred metres of walking took us about 45 minutes due to the sheer exhaustion of functioning at such low oxygen levels. It was worth struggling to the top however as the view was simply amazing. 360 degree views of snow capped peaks, the vast Altiplano, La Paz and even Lake Titicaca in the far distance, it was one of the best views we have ever had. Breath-taking. Literally.
From Chacaltaya, we headed to the Valle de la Luna on the far side of La Paz, driving on the way through El Alto city, the highest in the world and also one of the poorest. El Alto was filthy and reeked of severe poverty. It was definitely not a tourist attraction but was certainly an eye opener. Unfortunately however, Valle de la Luna was not an eye opener. Having been blown away by its Chilean namesake, Valle de la Luna in La Paz was unextraordinary. Named after a moon shaped rock elevated in the centre, the Valle de la Luna consisted of a few hundred square metres of rock that had eroded over the years to form a series of jagged peaks and caves. Whilst interesting from the perspective of it being a holy site for the Aymara people, the site was far too small to have any optical impact, particularly given you could see houses and other buildings at all times throughout the walk around the site.
The following day, we were joined by Owen Jago (a mate from NZ) who took the night bus up from Sucre to join us for the weekend, and Owen and I headed off to cycle the infamous "Death Road". Whilst not nearly as deadly as it was a few years ago when it served as the main route for all traffic approaching La Paz from the Bolivian Amazon, the Death Road was still plenty hair raising for the likes of Owen and I that had last touched mountain bikes when we were kids. The first 21km of the road have now been sealed and as such were an opportunity to let go of the breaks and allow sheer momentum to whip us down the mountains at speeds I have never reached on a bike before and hopefully never will again. The remaining 32km of the road however, the Death Road proper, took us along a gravel road hugging the side of the cliff as we decended almost 1200 metres in altitude. Owen and I stuck pretty firmly to the rear of the group for much of the decent, taking the possibility of death very seriously, although towards the end got a bit more confident and managed to pass most of the girls! The ride aside however, the scenery along route was absolutely stunning and the ride was hugely enjoyable. It was however sobbering to find out a week later that a Japanese girl did actually die on the ride due to break failure. A scary thought and one which made us feel even more glad that we opted for a more expensive and reputable company.
Our final La Paz experience was one on which Crystal and I have quite differing views. Cholitas wrestling. It is basically WWF but with middle aged Bolivian women doing the wrestling. The whole night came complete with a mariachi band in which the singer was wearing a wrestling mask, Bolivian kids jumping on stage, a woman in the crowd swinging her handbag in anger at one of the wrestlers and of course, the obligatory jumping off the top of the ropes. Absurd bordering on farcical for Crystal, absurd but pretty much amazing for me.
Thursday, 9 June 2011
Lima
On our flight back to Quito from the UK, we decided that rather than continuing travelling through to the end of September and going overland south through Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia and then into Brazil, a couple more months of travel was about all we wanted to do. However, this change of timeframe also meant that we needed to reconsider our route. We had the Inca Trail booked for 17 June and knew that we wanted to do the Salt Flats, Pantanal and Iguacu Falls as a minimum and so decided that the best option would be to fly to southern Peru and head west from there. Oddly however, it was cheaper to fly to La Paz than to Lima (eventhough the La Paz flight stopped in Lima on the way) and we had heard that Lima was a bit of a shit hole so we decided to use La Paz as a base, head west into southern Peru and then double back to La Paz to continue east towards Rio.
We did however have a nine hours stop over in Lima on route to La Paz and so decided to have a bit of a look around. Lima largely lived up to its reputation. It is a large, dirty metropolis which felt decidedly unsafe in all but the most central streets surrounding the main plaza. There was a smattering of impressive and quite unique architecture but sadly this was far outweighed by ugly, unimpressive architecture.
Had it not been for the imposing and fascinating Monasterio de San Francisco, I think our brief visit to Lima would have been largely pointless (and certainly not worth the $32 Lima departure tax which we incurred as a result of leaving the transit lounge). Although almost ruined by the snotty American highschool students sniggering at our guide's accent, the tour of the monastery was well worth it, particularly for the visit to the catacombs. The catacombs were the primary burial site for the city of Lima for over one hundred years and are estimated to hold approximately 70,000 bodies, the bones of which are displayed by bone type in row upon row of burial pits. Eerie.
After a mediocre coffee, at a mediocre coffee shop, overlooking an ok square, we returned to the airport ready to head to La Paz.
We did however have a nine hours stop over in Lima on route to La Paz and so decided to have a bit of a look around. Lima largely lived up to its reputation. It is a large, dirty metropolis which felt decidedly unsafe in all but the most central streets surrounding the main plaza. There was a smattering of impressive and quite unique architecture but sadly this was far outweighed by ugly, unimpressive architecture.
Had it not been for the imposing and fascinating Monasterio de San Francisco, I think our brief visit to Lima would have been largely pointless (and certainly not worth the $32 Lima departure tax which we incurred as a result of leaving the transit lounge). Although almost ruined by the snotty American highschool students sniggering at our guide's accent, the tour of the monastery was well worth it, particularly for the visit to the catacombs. The catacombs were the primary burial site for the city of Lima for over one hundred years and are estimated to hold approximately 70,000 bodies, the bones of which are displayed by bone type in row upon row of burial pits. Eerie.
After a mediocre coffee, at a mediocre coffee shop, overlooking an ok square, we returned to the airport ready to head to La Paz.
Otavalo
Whilst we were in Quito, we thought it would be worthwhile visiting Otavalo (two hours north of Quito) - a town which holds the biggest market in Ecuador, where hundreds of indigenous Ecuadorians come to sell their goods.
The market was a maze of stalls, selling all kinds of alpaca wool goods, local art work, jewellery and the usual tourist knick knacks. Most notable about the market however was that unlike others we have been to, the quality of the items was fantastic. We were tempted by lots and walked away with a cosy alpaca throw, a couple of paintings, an alpaca scarf, a silver ring and a cute little alpaca jumper for Simon's nephew, Xavier.
Another thing worth mentioning is the pie shop we visited to keep our hunger pangs at bay, and the trip to Otavalo would have been worthwhile just for this even if the market itself had been rubbish. I had an apple and cinnamon pie whilst Simon went for the blackberry pie. Huge portions and delicious.
We returned to Quito with several kilograms more baggage and feeling several kilograms heavier, but very satisfied.
The market was a maze of stalls, selling all kinds of alpaca wool goods, local art work, jewellery and the usual tourist knick knacks. Most notable about the market however was that unlike others we have been to, the quality of the items was fantastic. We were tempted by lots and walked away with a cosy alpaca throw, a couple of paintings, an alpaca scarf, a silver ring and a cute little alpaca jumper for Simon's nephew, Xavier.
Another thing worth mentioning is the pie shop we visited to keep our hunger pangs at bay, and the trip to Otavalo would have been worthwhile just for this even if the market itself had been rubbish. I had an apple and cinnamon pie whilst Simon went for the blackberry pie. Huge portions and delicious.
We returned to Quito with several kilograms more baggage and feeling several kilograms heavier, but very satisfied.
Quito
We have actually been to Quito three times on the trip but decided that one entry would be easier and also properly represent the fact that it was not until our third visit that we had a good look around - the first two visits having been spent relaxing, adjusting to altitude and preparing for our Galapagos trip and pit stop in the UK respectively.
On one of our early visits to Quito, we went for a wander in the new town. It was decidedly underwhelming. A few decent eateries and otherwise not a lot to speak of - at least not in the small part that we visited. It did however have an odd smattering of castle-like buildings. A unique Quito phenomenon, most of these buildings were dilapidated and appeared to be used as regular business premises but I figure warrant a mention solely for how out of place they were.
The old town of Quito on the other hand was lovely and we spent the vast majority of our time in Quito wandering its streets. The central square, like all of the green spaces in Quito (of which there were many) was impeccably kept. It was surrounded on three sides by beautiful grand buildings which could have easily graced the squares of most European cities and were it not for the hideous modern lump of a building on the fourth side of the square would possibly have been my favourite in South America (an honour currently held by Arequipa - more on that later).
The stand out aspect of Quito from a tourist perspective however was certainly its myriad of churches and monasteries. Whilst all South America cities have churches and monasteries in abundance, the difference in Quito was that the majority of them were actually worth visiting (i.e. they had something to offer other than the same old stuff).
The most impressive of all the churches was the Compania de Jesus. A short walk from the main square, the Compania de Jesus had the most ornately carved exterior we have ever seen and if that was not enough, the interior was breathtaking. Ornately carved, like the exterior, the interior had the added touch of approximately seven tonnes of gold covering almost every surface.
Whilst the monastery of San Francisco deserves a mention for its sheer size, the more notable was the monastery of Santa Catalina. This monastery continues to house a community of nuns that spend 23 hours of each day in complete solitude and the most grotesque religious art collection I have ever seen. Although limited in artistic merit, the paintings certainly score on shock factor including amongst them a painting of flocks of blood-thirsty sheep lapping up blood pouring from the wounds of the crucified Christ - nice.
Oddly enough however, I do not think that it will be the culture of Quito which we will remember longest. Rather, Quito will be more memorable for the painful high pitched shreiking of its female street vendors, numerous spontaneous parades (religious and political), woman on woman street fights (screaming and fisty-cuffs) and the crazy eyed owner of our hostel (and his equally crazy runt of a dog).
All in all however, we really liked Quito with its mix of old world architecture and Ecuadorian insanity. It did lack a bit of the buzz that one would expect of a city its size but was a great place to pass a few days nonetheless.
On one of our early visits to Quito, we went for a wander in the new town. It was decidedly underwhelming. A few decent eateries and otherwise not a lot to speak of - at least not in the small part that we visited. It did however have an odd smattering of castle-like buildings. A unique Quito phenomenon, most of these buildings were dilapidated and appeared to be used as regular business premises but I figure warrant a mention solely for how out of place they were.
The old town of Quito on the other hand was lovely and we spent the vast majority of our time in Quito wandering its streets. The central square, like all of the green spaces in Quito (of which there were many) was impeccably kept. It was surrounded on three sides by beautiful grand buildings which could have easily graced the squares of most European cities and were it not for the hideous modern lump of a building on the fourth side of the square would possibly have been my favourite in South America (an honour currently held by Arequipa - more on that later).
The stand out aspect of Quito from a tourist perspective however was certainly its myriad of churches and monasteries. Whilst all South America cities have churches and monasteries in abundance, the difference in Quito was that the majority of them were actually worth visiting (i.e. they had something to offer other than the same old stuff).
The most impressive of all the churches was the Compania de Jesus. A short walk from the main square, the Compania de Jesus had the most ornately carved exterior we have ever seen and if that was not enough, the interior was breathtaking. Ornately carved, like the exterior, the interior had the added touch of approximately seven tonnes of gold covering almost every surface.
Whilst the monastery of San Francisco deserves a mention for its sheer size, the more notable was the monastery of Santa Catalina. This monastery continues to house a community of nuns that spend 23 hours of each day in complete solitude and the most grotesque religious art collection I have ever seen. Although limited in artistic merit, the paintings certainly score on shock factor including amongst them a painting of flocks of blood-thirsty sheep lapping up blood pouring from the wounds of the crucified Christ - nice.
Oddly enough however, I do not think that it will be the culture of Quito which we will remember longest. Rather, Quito will be more memorable for the painful high pitched shreiking of its female street vendors, numerous spontaneous parades (religious and political), woman on woman street fights (screaming and fisty-cuffs) and the crazy eyed owner of our hostel (and his equally crazy runt of a dog).
All in all however, we really liked Quito with its mix of old world architecture and Ecuadorian insanity. It did lack a bit of the buzz that one would expect of a city its size but was a great place to pass a few days nonetheless.
Friday, 3 June 2011
Galapagos
After a brief stop in Quito, during which we didn't get up to much other than acclimatising to the altitude and a short wander around the northern part of Quito, which was decidedly unremarkable, we flew to the Galapagos Islands.
Our visit to the Galapagos was one of the things we had been looking forward to the most on our trip and as such we had high expectations. We had a short delay escaping Quito and a rather comical baggage check for potential contaminents (think the customs checks on arrival in New Zealand but with no-one actually paying any attention to the scanning machine) but arrived in the Galapagos raring to go. On disembarking the plane, we almost made a small fortune as the man in front of us left lying on the floor under his seat an envelope bulging with cash - we gave it back, to his immense relief ... and his wife's (who gave him a dirty 'how could you forget that' look).
We were met off the plane by David, our naturalist guide for our time in the Galapagos, and the rest of our ship mates for the week. The group was a much broader mix than we had expected, with a few couples our age, two Swiss friends, three recently retired Australian ladies and a Danish couple. Having collected our baggage, we headed by bus to the dock where the Beluga (our floating home for the next week) was waiting.
The Beluga is an older boat but had recently been completely revamped and was in top condition. It has a crew of seven and capacity for 16 tourists. We had deliberately chosen a smaller boat as we didn't want to share once in a lifetime nature encounters with a hundred other people. We had a cabin on the main deck which provided stunning views out the windows and was complete with a small ensuite. As the Beluga pulled up anchor and the cruise began we were all very excited.
Without breaking into a day by day itinerary, the general format was that we rose at around 6:45am for breakfast - an amazing spread of fruit, cereals, yoghurt, bread, cheeses, eggs, tea, coffee and juice - then went for a morning walk on whichever island we had docked at overnight. Most days, the morning walk was followed by snorkelling before breaking for lunch - invariably another sumptuous meal with at least two-three courses - including a soup course, the soup being so good that the chef was nicknamed 'Sopa' (we later found out that this was a play on words with 'Sopa" also being slang for gay - Crystal just realised this now). An afternoon nap was followed another island visit and sometimes more snorkelling before and early dinner, a briefing regarding the next day and bed at around 9:00pm - by which time we were all thoroughly shattered.
It is hard to convey just how amazing the whole experience was, with each day seeming to eclipse the previous in terms of wildlife encounters.
Marine Iguanas were the first of the Galapagos creatures we came across. Blacker and smaller than their Land Iguana counterparts but in such density of numbers and proximity that it blew us away. Little did we know that they were comparatively far away compared to later sightings. Next came the Sally Lightfoot Crabs, the most spectacularly coloured crabs I have ever seen with deep orange-red upper shells and bright blue underbellies. True to their name, the hard to spot Ghost Crabs on the beach escaped before we could see them close up, but the next creature we came across, the Santa Cruz Land Iguana certainly played the game. The Santa Cruz Land Iguana has a yellow colouring and after an hour of less than satisfactory spottings amongst dense shrubery one was found resting right on the track. At one stage we were no more than half a metre away as we edged past trying not to disturb him. Truely amazing creatures and remarkably unconcerned by human presence. Brilliant!
Approaching beautiful white sand beaches (which we had not expected), what first appeared to be hundreds of rocks lining the shore line soon proved to be large sea lions colonies. The sea lion pups playfully posed for photographs as the adults lay about grunting and occasionally arguing with each other, again completely oblivious to our presence. We were however advised to keep our distance as their bite would near take off an arm if they wanted to. We heeded David's advice but sometimes it was impossible to avoid them due to the sheer numbers of them.
As well as wildlife, David was brilliant at introducing us to the different flora that flourished on the Galapagos and explaining why they had developed in the way they had. One particularly fascinating cactus had grown as large as a tree in order to try and outstretch the reach of land iguanas.
The airbourne wildlife certainly rivalled the land dwelling however as a multitude of different birds caught our attention. We would certainly not consider ourselves bird people but it was impossible not to be intregued by the birds of the Galapagos. The male Frigatebirds were amazing with their large red pouches under their necks which they inflate to catch the eye of passing females. The Blue Footed Boobies were comical both in name and when doing their absurd but fascinating mating dance. The Red Footed Boobies were not quite so cool, purely because we did not see them doing their mating ritual. We were treated to seeing a Short Eared Owl swooping on and catching a Petrel then carrying it to within three metres of us to devour it (something we had seen on a BBC documentary the day before but never thought we would see live). We were in season to see the Waved Albatrosses nesting and doing their mating rituals on Espanola. This doesn't even take into account the Galapagos hawk we saw perched only metres away, the multitude of Darwin finches, the speedy Red Billed Tropic Bird, impossible to capture in a photo, the bright Yellow Warbler, a handful of penguins and many many more. The only bird which we disappointingly missed on this trip was the Flightless Comorant - we will just have to return ...
The highlight however was certainly the underwater world of the Galapagos. Whilst on our first snorkel we did not see much more than fish - albeit still in numbers and a variety of colours we had never seen before, our strike rate on amazing sea creatures soon rapidly increased. As well as ducking and diving whilst swimming with a sea lion pup, we were treated to numerous sea turtles - one swam directly beneath Crystal and I, graceful and exceptionally quick when it wanted to be. We spotted an Eagle Ray sailing by and another resting on the ocean floor. A couple of baby white tip reef sharks and a couple of not so baby white tip reef sharks (although still only about a metre in length) came to visit. An unexpected bonus came when a pod of dolphins decided to race our boat as we navigated to another island. The clear winnner though was the 3 metre long Hammerhead that came to within about 2 metres of Crystal and I (Crystal being closer, so I felt very safe).
Finally, we can't forget the tortoises. Whilst we only caught a small glimpse of the famous Lonesome George, we were treated to several close encounters in the highlands of Santa Cruz with a couple of Giant Tortoises. Giant doesn't quite cover just how massive they are. They were awesome in every sense of the word, actually, so was our entire Galapagos experience. We cannot recommend it highly enough. We were fortunate to have a fantastic guide, boat and group of people to experience the Galapagos with (and April/May is pretty much the best time to go), but we can't imagine any way in which the Galapagos could do anything other than amaze and inspire. Go there!
Our visit to the Galapagos was one of the things we had been looking forward to the most on our trip and as such we had high expectations. We had a short delay escaping Quito and a rather comical baggage check for potential contaminents (think the customs checks on arrival in New Zealand but with no-one actually paying any attention to the scanning machine) but arrived in the Galapagos raring to go. On disembarking the plane, we almost made a small fortune as the man in front of us left lying on the floor under his seat an envelope bulging with cash - we gave it back, to his immense relief ... and his wife's (who gave him a dirty 'how could you forget that' look).
We were met off the plane by David, our naturalist guide for our time in the Galapagos, and the rest of our ship mates for the week. The group was a much broader mix than we had expected, with a few couples our age, two Swiss friends, three recently retired Australian ladies and a Danish couple. Having collected our baggage, we headed by bus to the dock where the Beluga (our floating home for the next week) was waiting.
The Beluga is an older boat but had recently been completely revamped and was in top condition. It has a crew of seven and capacity for 16 tourists. We had deliberately chosen a smaller boat as we didn't want to share once in a lifetime nature encounters with a hundred other people. We had a cabin on the main deck which provided stunning views out the windows and was complete with a small ensuite. As the Beluga pulled up anchor and the cruise began we were all very excited.
Without breaking into a day by day itinerary, the general format was that we rose at around 6:45am for breakfast - an amazing spread of fruit, cereals, yoghurt, bread, cheeses, eggs, tea, coffee and juice - then went for a morning walk on whichever island we had docked at overnight. Most days, the morning walk was followed by snorkelling before breaking for lunch - invariably another sumptuous meal with at least two-three courses - including a soup course, the soup being so good that the chef was nicknamed 'Sopa' (we later found out that this was a play on words with 'Sopa" also being slang for gay - Crystal just realised this now). An afternoon nap was followed another island visit and sometimes more snorkelling before and early dinner, a briefing regarding the next day and bed at around 9:00pm - by which time we were all thoroughly shattered.
It is hard to convey just how amazing the whole experience was, with each day seeming to eclipse the previous in terms of wildlife encounters.
Marine Iguanas were the first of the Galapagos creatures we came across. Blacker and smaller than their Land Iguana counterparts but in such density of numbers and proximity that it blew us away. Little did we know that they were comparatively far away compared to later sightings. Next came the Sally Lightfoot Crabs, the most spectacularly coloured crabs I have ever seen with deep orange-red upper shells and bright blue underbellies. True to their name, the hard to spot Ghost Crabs on the beach escaped before we could see them close up, but the next creature we came across, the Santa Cruz Land Iguana certainly played the game. The Santa Cruz Land Iguana has a yellow colouring and after an hour of less than satisfactory spottings amongst dense shrubery one was found resting right on the track. At one stage we were no more than half a metre away as we edged past trying not to disturb him. Truely amazing creatures and remarkably unconcerned by human presence. Brilliant!
Approaching beautiful white sand beaches (which we had not expected), what first appeared to be hundreds of rocks lining the shore line soon proved to be large sea lions colonies. The sea lion pups playfully posed for photographs as the adults lay about grunting and occasionally arguing with each other, again completely oblivious to our presence. We were however advised to keep our distance as their bite would near take off an arm if they wanted to. We heeded David's advice but sometimes it was impossible to avoid them due to the sheer numbers of them.
As well as wildlife, David was brilliant at introducing us to the different flora that flourished on the Galapagos and explaining why they had developed in the way they had. One particularly fascinating cactus had grown as large as a tree in order to try and outstretch the reach of land iguanas.
The airbourne wildlife certainly rivalled the land dwelling however as a multitude of different birds caught our attention. We would certainly not consider ourselves bird people but it was impossible not to be intregued by the birds of the Galapagos. The male Frigatebirds were amazing with their large red pouches under their necks which they inflate to catch the eye of passing females. The Blue Footed Boobies were comical both in name and when doing their absurd but fascinating mating dance. The Red Footed Boobies were not quite so cool, purely because we did not see them doing their mating ritual. We were treated to seeing a Short Eared Owl swooping on and catching a Petrel then carrying it to within three metres of us to devour it (something we had seen on a BBC documentary the day before but never thought we would see live). We were in season to see the Waved Albatrosses nesting and doing their mating rituals on Espanola. This doesn't even take into account the Galapagos hawk we saw perched only metres away, the multitude of Darwin finches, the speedy Red Billed Tropic Bird, impossible to capture in a photo, the bright Yellow Warbler, a handful of penguins and many many more. The only bird which we disappointingly missed on this trip was the Flightless Comorant - we will just have to return ...
The highlight however was certainly the underwater world of the Galapagos. Whilst on our first snorkel we did not see much more than fish - albeit still in numbers and a variety of colours we had never seen before, our strike rate on amazing sea creatures soon rapidly increased. As well as ducking and diving whilst swimming with a sea lion pup, we were treated to numerous sea turtles - one swam directly beneath Crystal and I, graceful and exceptionally quick when it wanted to be. We spotted an Eagle Ray sailing by and another resting on the ocean floor. A couple of baby white tip reef sharks and a couple of not so baby white tip reef sharks (although still only about a metre in length) came to visit. An unexpected bonus came when a pod of dolphins decided to race our boat as we navigated to another island. The clear winnner though was the 3 metre long Hammerhead that came to within about 2 metres of Crystal and I (Crystal being closer, so I felt very safe).
Finally, we can't forget the tortoises. Whilst we only caught a small glimpse of the famous Lonesome George, we were treated to several close encounters in the highlands of Santa Cruz with a couple of Giant Tortoises. Giant doesn't quite cover just how massive they are. They were awesome in every sense of the word, actually, so was our entire Galapagos experience. We cannot recommend it highly enough. We were fortunate to have a fantastic guide, boat and group of people to experience the Galapagos with (and April/May is pretty much the best time to go), but we can't imagine any way in which the Galapagos could do anything other than amaze and inspire. Go there!
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