Baños, Otavalo & making money from thieves

It's New Years day in Cartagena, Colombia and I find myself in the familiar position of trying to write suffering from a heavy bout of imaginative constipation. Less familiar is that it's the Caribbean, it's hot, humid and every pore in my body seems determined to redress the imbalance of liquid consumed last night. Maybe an improbable day to eek out another overdue account of our travels but our shady hostel courtyard is the only refuge from the heat. And it's also an effort to start the new year as I mean to go on - by writing more regularly. It's a weak resolution but then the resolution concept doesn't hold up well to travel. What would we change in year where for 6 months we've done more or less exactly as we pleased each day? (Get a job, spend less, do something with your life, I can hear the bitter, envious and maybe our parents say).

Staring down death

Safe in the knowledge that Ecuador is a world-leader in zip-line standards and conformance

Maybe one thing we could resolve to do is spend less time on the road. From Ayampe on Ecuador's coast it's a day and a half of travel to Banos, tipping our total bus travel over 250 hours. The trip is longer than it needs to be because we accept an offer from an Ecuadorian tour guide returning to Quito. It's not the most direct route for us but it's a free passage and good company. The depressing aspect of an otherwise enjoyable ride through the interior of the country is the pace we make. A sign as we're setting off reads Quito, 343km. I speculate it'll take little under 4 hours. We arrive in Quito at 11pm, 9 hours later. 

The night is spent at our new friend's brother's house in suburban Quito. He evicts his young daughter from her room to free up a bed, puts on a big spread for breakfast and offers to drop us off to the bus terminal the next morning. We accept on all fronts, forgetting that Quito is a long, skinny city stretched out in valley and it takes an hour to arrive at the terminal. Muchas gracias at high frequency is all we can manage to say to let him know how grateful we are. It underlines our thoughts that Ecuadorians seem a welcoming bunch and it's especially noticeable after the mixed attitudes we received in Peru.

We did not take this picture

I'd read about this friendly nature in my last minute research on Ecuador. What I also found was the picture above making headlines on news websites (this one taken from National Geographic, more great shots here). With only a few weeks to spend in the country we'd been weighing up several popular destinations but this made the decision straightforward. We want to see lava. 

Unfortunately the volcano of Tungurahua has settled down by the time we arrive in Banos and my hope of arriving to something resembling Mordor is dashed. We settle for green valleys and waterfalls and a wonderful lodge run by an Australasian couple. It doesn't take long to validate the view held widely amongst traveller's we meet - that you could squeeze all of NZ's population into a biggish room - because as it turns out the owner is the ex-girlfriend of my sister's best friend's husband (get it?). 

Tungurahua at quieter times

When the volcano isn't exploding, Banos is also a popular place for action sports and thermal pools. We're happy to relax for the most part but we spend a day coasting the main road down the valley on mountain bikes. Along the way there are several cable cars spanning the valley and they'll creak and rattle you across to take in the view for only a few dollars. We opt for the gravity assisted option: an 1100m zip-line to the valley floor. The thrill of flying out over the cliff is heightened by not really understanding any of the pre-flight brief in spanish. Or knowing that the frayed harness, rickety pulley system or the plywood launch platform might fail at any moment. Great fun!

Rose Cottage, Otavalo

From Banos we make the journey north towards Otavalo. Nic has carefully scheduled our dates to align with the famous Saturday market. We're in the streets by 7am Saturday morning to witness the madness. It's like the A&P show but stripped of order and pens. Pigs, chickens, cows & goats mingle in a muddy lot amongst the Otavaleños jostling for trade. Toddlers left holding the leads of angry bulls are dragged about. Old women in their indigenous dress traipse through the mud with baby bundles strapped to their backs. On the streets things are slightly less chaotic but it's standing room only in most parts and it covers several blocks in each direction. It's an unimaginable array of handicrafts and apparel, and not hard to see why it earned the reputation as South America's grandest market.

Nic's alpaca jumper

Later in the morning when things have calmed down

But in Otavalo's markets we also get pick-pocketed. It brings our tally of missing items to 3: my pocket knife in Argentina, some cash taken from our hotel in La Paz and now this. It happens in a busy laneway after Nic and I get separated in the throng. It's like tinned sardines anyway, but when she catches up she's in a fluster about a particularly close encounter. The light-bulb turns on when she spots her handbag is open.

Nic ended up buying a yard of rope from this lady to appease her anger at being photographed

As a lesson on vigilance it couldn't have been gentler. The wallet was worth little and there was no more than a few dollars inside. If it was a lucky dip then the thief certainly drew the lemon because alongside the wallet was our phone and camera. And the sweetener on the episode is that my credit card, which was also in the wallet, has a 'stolen card protection' benefit which provides a $200 payout for the inconvenience. Our first income in 6 months and we celebrate with a meal out.

We hope everyone had happy Christmas and NY holidays! We board a yacht to Panama tomorrow so out of contact for a week. Tales from Colombia to follow.

xN&G

Ecuador. More than bananas.

If ever there is a guidebook published on the street vendor marketing pitch, written in bold on page 1 would be the phrase "where you from?". After which there need not be anything else in the South American edition because as a merchant here you commit those three words to memory, close the book and settle back into your hammock.

A typical morning on Bondi Beach

I still don't fully understand the power in these three words. It doesn't really matter what the answer is because my being from New Zealand has little to do with the price of fish; or some crudely made handicraft. After 4 months of this line of questioning sometimes I mix it up. Timbuktu, before they're halfway finished. But I may as well say New Zealand for the recognition on their faces. And still they've won because I've been sucked in and now obligated through my own courtesy - and this simple phrase - to trawl through stuff I will never need. I just don't seem able to walk away from this question.

The main street of Montanita is lined with dozens of stalls similar to this. All sell huge fruit bowls, smoothies and cocktails. Nothing will cost you more than $2. 

Sometimes you meet entrepreneurs who have studied beyond the first page. They have a batch of pre-fab responses stored away for the most common nationalities. The response won't make sense - just a list of colloquialisms rolled out in a meaningless string. Sweet as, kiwi, All Blacks, kia ora, yeah bro, sheep, haka, Lord of the Rings. Is this really NZ's contribution to the World?

Praia de los Frailes

But the grounds for feeling aggrieved at such a trite global image of NZ are shaky (we have great wine and lamb also; did I mention we're intermittently great at sports no-one else is too interested in?). Because as we board a bus bound for Ecuador it dawns on me that my collective knowledge of the country can be obtained from a small blue and yellow sticker. Bonita, Premium Bananas.

There's no shortage of study time. It's a 30 hour trip from Lima to Guayaquil and I do my best to learn about a country that ashamedly never made it onto my top-10 list. 

Pelicans 

We are in and out of Guayaquil quickly, heading straight for the beachside towns of Montanita and Ayampe. We spend a few nights in each place (I tried to recall exactly but it blurs into a sandy, sugary wash); Montanita, a bustling party town and Ayampe, where there's nothing more than a few bungalows and some shops. 

After 6 busy weeks spent in the highlands of Bolivia and Peru it's great to do nothing but lie on the beach. SPF 30, of course.

Ayampe

Washed up on the shores of Ecuador, the remnants of the Bolivian navy

No time for more at the moment, but will continue our travels in Ecuador soon.

Hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas. We had a great time celebrating in the Colombian countryside. Off to the Caribbean coast tomorrow for New Years!

xN&G

Arequipa, Huacachina & Lima

Huacachina, Peru 

Although arriving in a new city at 5 am is never ideal, it gives us time to wander the streets of Arequipa before the city had truly woken up. It felt like the kind of place where the skies were always blue and this proved to be true for our time there. 

Near empty streets alongside our favourite plaza in South America so far

The second biggest city in Peru, Arequipa's colonial centre is built almost singularly from sillar - a white volcanic rock found in the area. With a few days to take in the sights we potter through the endless courtyards tucked away all over the city. 

George became quite besotted with the architecture of Arequipa. I had to agree, it was a truly beautiful city. Above left is part of a university, to the right, another cafe-lined laneway.

First signs that Christmas is sometime soon

More courtyard goodness

A great spot to spend the evening - Mt Chachani in the background

At the end of our third day we arrive at the bus station in Arequipa to find it packed with people, but very few buses to be seen. It transpires there are protests near Lima and none of the buses have been able to make the trip down the coast. This is slightly problematic, only for the reason that we have booked a bus out of Lima for a few days time and had planned to stop along the way up there. We manage to secure a spot on the bus for the following night and decide there are far worse places you could be stranded.

Arches. Arches and taxis.

The delay allows us to see more of the city - George has read there is an iron bridge designed by Eiffel in town and a walk along the river and through some plush suburbs brings us there.

10,000km from Paris, Eiffel's contribution to Arequipa. Not so much the icon as the tower.

The following day our bus has made the trip from Lima and we depart for Ica on time. We had planned to spend a night in Huacachina, an oasis town about 15 minutes from Ica, but the delays have ruined that idea. Our hostel with whom we had our reservation invites us to come and spend the day by their pool and we make the most. Four o'clock rolls around all to quickly and we are off in dune buggies to see the surrounding area and give sand boarding a try.

Dune buggy

Endless sand

George makes his way down

Lima is only a few hours up the road from Huachachina so it's back on the bus for a quick stopover. With about 6 hours to explore Lima, we keep it to a minimum.

A walk along the coast (El Parque de Amor)

And eating

Having heard that Lima is the has the best food in the world (from an Argentinian, no less) we decide a meal of Peruvian-Japanese fusion will be our last before the 28 hour bus journey that lies ahead of us...

More from Ecuador!

It had to happen sometime... (Cusco & Machu Picchu)

It's no secret we're happy to be out of Puno, having spent less than a full day in the place. Thankfully we seem to have survived the Puno challenge - eat-out and hope you can sleep the night, poo-no. Which is a blessing because we sleep this night on a bus, sin bano. At this stage in our travels we're less concerned about the potential for stomach upsets than we used to be, confident in our hardiness. Before we left Australia our travel doctor gave us a shot of cholera vaccine, mentioning that it also protects against a number of other food nasties and we credit this for an unscathed run. And we've just spent a month in Bolivia without any huge problems so it doesn't occur to us to tread cautiously 2 days out from a 5 day hike to Machu Picchu. Our luck was always going to run out...

Delicious breakfast and coffee

But our first meal in Cusco is a delight. Our guide book had told us good things about Jack's cafe and further recommendation from our hostel owner is all we need to head straight there after an early morning arrival in the city. Maybe we've been away from the cafe a scene too long but the food and coffee is as good as anything we've eaten in Melbourne. A huge meal fuels us for a day of exploring around the city and we don't eat again until dinner. Cusco itself is beautiful; the streets and buildings evidence of its title as the oldest city in the continent and the capital of the Incan empire, but the main plazas are plagued somewhat by relentless hawkers and touts. We wander off onto side streets and set about finding a tour company to trek with. 

Cusco central plaza

It's easy to see how people spend longer in Cusco than they anticipated, but we plan to see more of the city after our trek and so with a tour company chosen the 4am departure on day 1 rolls around quickly. We settle on the Salkantay trail, which is one of a number of alternative options to the Inca trail. As much as we would have liked to have walked the original Machu Picchu trek, bookings for the Inca trail sell out months in advance and our travel itinerary never extends further than the day after tomorrow. The Salkantay trail has a good reputation as a challenging walk across spectacular landscape, winds up at Machu Picchu and only needs to be booked a couple of days in advance, which ticks all the boxes for us.

But by lunch on day 1, we're ready to pull the pin and stump up for a $50+ cab back to Cusco. It's always difficult to pinpoint the exact culprit but it at this early stage it occurs to us that the bargain chifa the day before (Chinese food) could have been a false economy. We've been climbing for 4 hours and Nic and I have been languishing at the back of the group, taking turns to dash into bushes at the whim of our cramping bowels and stomachs. The initial onset cues exactly with our arrival at Mollepata, 2 hours from Cusco, where we take breakfast and make introductions to our group of 16. Neither of us manage to eat much and I survive a clammy and horrifying moment on the bus ride to the starting point of the track only to make a mess of my meagre breakfast on the roadside. 

Our guide does his best to reassure us that it's just altitude sickness but we know better: this is the lowest we've been in 5 weeks, aside from 4 days in the jungle. The climb is steep in parts and we're not particularly fit and we have little energy as a result of our IBE (Involuntary Bimodal Evacuation). Other than a few sips of coke we can't bring ourselves to eat lunch but the time sitting down and catching our breath helps settle things a bit. The thought of forfeiting $400 for the trek in addition to the cost of the taxi encourages us to persist until the first camp and we decide we'll make the call the next morning if things are still bad.

Fetch me my brown pants

It turns out to be a very good decision because things pass quickly, so to speak, and by nightfall we're able to force some dinner down. The following morning is another 4am start as it's the longest day up and over the Salkantay pass at 4600m. We realise to skip another breakfast will be a mistake and do our best to stock up. We're lucky that the sun rises into a clear and windless morning, providing views of the mountains and down the valley. As we get closer to the top of the pass it's apparent that some of the group are struggling with the thin air, which is thankfully not a problem of ours. Three of the group pay to get carried over the pass on horseback. We're already feeling much better and able to laugh at the horrors of the day before, and it's a consolation to restore some credibility after being the group stragglers. The views of Salkantay Mountain rising above us as we rest at the pass are spectacular.

The track zig-zags up the bottom of the picture. Our guide calls it The Gringo Killer.

Resting afterwards. All gringos still alive.

Mount Salkantay

With the sickness and longest day behind us we end up having a great time over the remaining 3 days. The weather stays clear and sunny, with no more than a few minutes of rain (and it's meant to be the rainy season) and our group is a mix of great people from all over the world. On one of the evenings the guides wager a few beers over a game of football: South America vs The World. My inclusion in the World side is mostly a numbers thing and I try not to disgrace NZ's proud football heritage. The plucky prematch statement that the All Whites were the only unbeaten team at the last World Cup falls on the deaf ears of my French & Italian teammates. We lose, partly because our team can't match the sprinting locals at 3000m but mostly because I am truly shit at soccer. Anyone for cricket?

Happy to have Eeyore carrying our gear

The best is saved for the last day, when we make the climb to Machu Picchu. Another early start, this time 3.30am, but it's all worth it when we find ourselves the first at the entrance gates for the 6am opening. I'd seen the postcard photos of Machu Picchu plenty of times before, with the ruins sitting beneath the sugarloaf-esque peak of Huayna Picchu, but in context with the surrounding mountains it's even more special. When the Incans were kindly sharing their empire with the Spanish, only for the Spanish to ransack and destroy most of it, somehow this spot was kept secret. Good thing it was because it's an amazing place to visit. We buy the additional ticket to climb to the top of Huayna Picchu, a steep and challenging haul up ropes and rock faces for a birds eye view of the site. Definitely recommend this option (though don't bother with the Grand Cavern at the foot of the mountain - not worth the effort).

We're the very first to arrive here in the morning and see this view. No-one else around. A few hours later and the place is crawling with people and cameras. Overlooking is Huayna Picchu, which we climbed also, the track up hidden somewhere in the shadows on the left face.

Evolution has missed a beat here. Nowhere to hide for this caterpillar.

Sunny skies in Cusco 

From Machu Picchu it's a train and bus combo back to Cusco for a few days to relax, wash-up and see more of the city. And a few more visits to Jack's cafe...

It's an impossible task to get this up-to-date, but we're getting closer momentarily. From Cusco to Arequipa to Ecuador and we'll have finally clawed our way back from the lapses in Brazil!

xN&G