The bottom reads 'no Llamas were harmed in the making of these snacks.' This is a great shame. They are actually rather tasty afterall.
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
There is no escape after all
What I discovered on my bed when I got home:
The bottom reads 'no Llamas were harmed in the making of these snacks.' This is a great shame. They are actually rather tasty afterall.
The bottom reads 'no Llamas were harmed in the making of these snacks.' This is a great shame. They are actually rather tasty afterall.
Lima
Weather: Preparing me for a return to England... Rainy, grey and foggy.
Llama Count: The odd fluffy llama in a tourist shop. Think I may have seen my last live llama, which means the only animal that spat on me in the trip was a grumpy Peruvian Whoop!
I have a reckless last day in Peru: I eat raw fish. This is pretty much the largest adventure of the day, and I eat an enormous plate of Serbicche, which includes crab, shellfish, octopus, and mussels. Amazingly I am not sick.
There is a religious festival of some description taking place in the cathedral, I decide that I ought to join in. I sit in a pew for three quarters of an hour waiting for it to start, nothing happens. I give in and decide to go to a few museums instead. I start with another San Franciscan monastery, the main attraction here is definitely the catacombs, which hold about 50,000 dead bodies. The limestone they are built from is particularly good at breaking bodies down, to the extent that the only bits left are the femurs. Beagles would daydream of this place, lines and lines of bits of bones just ready to be knawed upon...
I decide that I have had enough of monastery’s and churches, so decide to go to the inquisition museum, which documents the peruvian inquisition. To my delight I find it has more catacombs, and I pretend for a bit I am Indiana Jones. After that I go on a very long, and rather dull Spanish tour that explains the place. I think I am beginning to be South Americered out...
Which is just in time as a few hours later I am on a plane flying back to sunny England.
Llama Count: The odd fluffy llama in a tourist shop. Think I may have seen my last live llama, which means the only animal that spat on me in the trip was a grumpy Peruvian Whoop!
I have a reckless last day in Peru: I eat raw fish. This is pretty much the largest adventure of the day, and I eat an enormous plate of Serbicche, which includes crab, shellfish, octopus, and mussels. Amazingly I am not sick.
There is a religious festival of some description taking place in the cathedral, I decide that I ought to join in. I sit in a pew for three quarters of an hour waiting for it to start, nothing happens. I give in and decide to go to a few museums instead. I start with another San Franciscan monastery, the main attraction here is definitely the catacombs, which hold about 50,000 dead bodies. The limestone they are built from is particularly good at breaking bodies down, to the extent that the only bits left are the femurs. Beagles would daydream of this place, lines and lines of bits of bones just ready to be knawed upon...
I decide that I have had enough of monastery’s and churches, so decide to go to the inquisition museum, which documents the peruvian inquisition. To my delight I find it has more catacombs, and I pretend for a bit I am Indiana Jones. After that I go on a very long, and rather dull Spanish tour that explains the place. I think I am beginning to be South Americered out...
Which is just in time as a few hours later I am on a plane flying back to sunny England.
Friday, 12 October 2012
Nazca and Huacachina
Weather... The sunny desert once more.
Llama Count... Happy happy 0.
So I survived the deathly bus ride. It was worse than being on a boat, there were a ridiculous amount of turns, each one including a cliff on one side. Long live travel sickness pills! I was not the one vomiting into the sick bag.
Finally after a sleepless night the bus reached Nazca, which is a bit of a dead end desert town, despite having a famous name. Having heard plenty of scary stories about the flights, and feeling very lucky to be alive after the bus...I take the wimpy option and catch the local bus to the mirador (look out.) I can see three of the shapes, the hand, the crazy tree, and the crazy frog, which is a lot more artistic than the song by the similar name.
After about an hour and a half of roasting in the desert sun I catch another two hour bus to a nearby Oasis called Huacachina. The desert has no cliffs, I like the desert.
Huacachina is world famous for its sand boarding championships. In the afternoon I take a sand buggy out into the desert. This is amazing fun. It is like a roller-coaster on sand, and the driver is definitely on the super side of crazy. Before long he has everyone tobogganing downhill on their stomachs on boards, and then we get to give sand boarding a go. After years of horses trying to throw me off the sand board stands no chance, and with the exception of one time where I land flat on my face my attempts at going downhill are remarkably incident free.
Llama Count... Happy happy 0.
So I survived the deathly bus ride. It was worse than being on a boat, there were a ridiculous amount of turns, each one including a cliff on one side. Long live travel sickness pills! I was not the one vomiting into the sick bag.
Finally after a sleepless night the bus reached Nazca, which is a bit of a dead end desert town, despite having a famous name. Having heard plenty of scary stories about the flights, and feeling very lucky to be alive after the bus...I take the wimpy option and catch the local bus to the mirador (look out.) I can see three of the shapes, the hand, the crazy tree, and the crazy frog, which is a lot more artistic than the song by the similar name.
After about an hour and a half of roasting in the desert sun I catch another two hour bus to a nearby Oasis called Huacachina. The desert has no cliffs, I like the desert.
Huacachina is world famous for its sand boarding championships. In the afternoon I take a sand buggy out into the desert. This is amazing fun. It is like a roller-coaster on sand, and the driver is definitely on the super side of crazy. Before long he has everyone tobogganing downhill on their stomachs on boards, and then we get to give sand boarding a go. After years of horses trying to throw me off the sand board stands no chance, and with the exception of one time where I land flat on my face my attempts at going downhill are remarkably incident free.
Cusco
Weather... Body and mind too broken to care.
Llama Count... A woman was carrying a baby Alpaca in a street today. Frankly once you have seen one you have seen them all. She asked me if I would pay to take a picture of the Alpaca. I almost replied that I would pay to delete some of the pictures on my camera of llama+ Alpaca things.
I met up with the French girl Alizee today. We went shopping and gossiped. My body is too broken to do much else. I have a few blisters, and a few thousand mosquito bites.
The only thing I achieve is that I manage to book a bus to Nazca for the evening. I get ready for yet another South American bus route. The bus seems pretty South American Standard, but I make the mistake of asking the guy next to me why the woman is going round with a camcorder videoing where we are sitting. I wish I didn't understand Spanish that followed...
'It is to help identify bodies if the bus crashes. There have been many crashes on this route, but don't worry it is only a precaution.'
And so began a very sleepless night.
Llama Count... A woman was carrying a baby Alpaca in a street today. Frankly once you have seen one you have seen them all. She asked me if I would pay to take a picture of the Alpaca. I almost replied that I would pay to delete some of the pictures on my camera of llama+ Alpaca things.
I met up with the French girl Alizee today. We went shopping and gossiped. My body is too broken to do much else. I have a few blisters, and a few thousand mosquito bites.
The only thing I achieve is that I manage to book a bus to Nazca for the evening. I get ready for yet another South American bus route. The bus seems pretty South American Standard, but I make the mistake of asking the guy next to me why the woman is going round with a camcorder videoing where we are sitting. I wish I didn't understand Spanish that followed...
'It is to help identify bodies if the bus crashes. There have been many crashes on this route, but don't worry it is only a precaution.'
And so began a very sleepless night.
Salkantay Day 5... Machu Pichu
Weather..Foggy and first, and then blazingly hot for the rest of the tramping about.
Llamas... 3, happily grazing on the slopes of Machu Pichu... probably cheaper than a lawn mower. Will suggest that Dad buys some for this purpose, he could even buy them hats to match his favourite youtube video.
For some reason we have to start climbing to Machu Pichu at 4.30. This turns into a race, and half way up the mountain I am very sick, in the win or die mentality I fail... I am a failed extreme trekker and climb the rest very slowly. The Incas like their steps. I am not quite sure why, it makes climbing a lot more difficult, and a lot more tiring. However, finally all the motley bunch reach the top to discover that Machu Pichu does live up to its own hype after all. In the fog it is eerie, with temples carved out of the natural rock being broken up by perfectly carved symmetrical stonework. As the mist rises the mountains become black shadows against the cloud, perfectly guarding this hidden plateau from the view of the outside world. However, it seems word of Machu Pichu has well and truly reached the USA, and by 9am, an hour after the first train arrives at Agua Calientes the place is swarming with OATs, and the lesser spotted CCATs (clearly cleverer american tourists.)
The guide has persuaded us all to climb Machu Pichu mountain, and we head for the hills once more. Climbing Machu Pichu mountain turns out to be ridiculously hard core, and the extreme trekkers return. My legs are like jelly for most of the way due to steps jutting out into thin air on one side of the mountains... The Spanish guy eventually succumbs to his vertigo and is forced to stop three quarters of the way up, karma for all the McFlurry jokes he has been making since seeing my passport. The view from the top is spectacular, we can see where we have walked for the past five days... Turns out to be quite a long way.
Then began the long tramp down to Agua Calientes, in time for pizza, and a very very long wait for a train. I arrived back in Cusco at 1.30 am... partly by Peruvian railway, and partly by a taxi that got stuck behind a bus that couldn't fit down a really thin street. I am so exhausted that I leave my wonderful green hat in the taxi. This is a truly sad event, but it may save me an awful lot of teasing in England.
Llamas... 3, happily grazing on the slopes of Machu Pichu... probably cheaper than a lawn mower. Will suggest that Dad buys some for this purpose, he could even buy them hats to match his favourite youtube video.
For some reason we have to start climbing to Machu Pichu at 4.30. This turns into a race, and half way up the mountain I am very sick, in the win or die mentality I fail... I am a failed extreme trekker and climb the rest very slowly. The Incas like their steps. I am not quite sure why, it makes climbing a lot more difficult, and a lot more tiring. However, finally all the motley bunch reach the top to discover that Machu Pichu does live up to its own hype after all. In the fog it is eerie, with temples carved out of the natural rock being broken up by perfectly carved symmetrical stonework. As the mist rises the mountains become black shadows against the cloud, perfectly guarding this hidden plateau from the view of the outside world. However, it seems word of Machu Pichu has well and truly reached the USA, and by 9am, an hour after the first train arrives at Agua Calientes the place is swarming with OATs, and the lesser spotted CCATs (clearly cleverer american tourists.)
The guide has persuaded us all to climb Machu Pichu mountain, and we head for the hills once more. Climbing Machu Pichu mountain turns out to be ridiculously hard core, and the extreme trekkers return. My legs are like jelly for most of the way due to steps jutting out into thin air on one side of the mountains... The Spanish guy eventually succumbs to his vertigo and is forced to stop three quarters of the way up, karma for all the McFlurry jokes he has been making since seeing my passport. The view from the top is spectacular, we can see where we have walked for the past five days... Turns out to be quite a long way.
Then began the long tramp down to Agua Calientes, in time for pizza, and a very very long wait for a train. I arrived back in Cusco at 1.30 am... partly by Peruvian railway, and partly by a taxi that got stuck behind a bus that couldn't fit down a really thin street. I am so exhausted that I leave my wonderful green hat in the taxi. This is a truly sad event, but it may save me an awful lot of teasing in England.
Salkantay Day 4
Weather... Boiling
Llamas... Still a happy 0.
After the excitement of the day before the 8 hour trek today felt long.
In the morning we waked along a very long road that supplied all the local mines. It was boiling, but it did have the added adrenaline factor of sudden death by rampaging mining lorry or car at any moment.
Lunch consisted of pasta vegetables and cheese.. all eaten on the edge of a railway. The Turkish and Dutch guys had finally sobered up... One discovered that he had walked the whole morning in flip flops and socks. The guide had tried to change this, but he had been very insistent on this particular combination.
In the afternoon we walked to the base camp of Machu Pichu... the tourist town of Agua Calientes. It was a wonderful trek through the jungle, with steep mountains on either side... and the added fun of being on train tracks, with the odd train trying to run you over when it felt like it.
Compared to the day before it was rather muted, and the sight of Machu Pichu on the top of a very big hill meant everyone went to bed very early. No Inca Tequila was touched.
Llamas... Still a happy 0.
After the excitement of the day before the 8 hour trek today felt long.
In the morning we waked along a very long road that supplied all the local mines. It was boiling, but it did have the added adrenaline factor of sudden death by rampaging mining lorry or car at any moment.
Lunch consisted of pasta vegetables and cheese.. all eaten on the edge of a railway. The Turkish and Dutch guys had finally sobered up... One discovered that he had walked the whole morning in flip flops and socks. The guide had tried to change this, but he had been very insistent on this particular combination.
In the afternoon we walked to the base camp of Machu Pichu... the tourist town of Agua Calientes. It was a wonderful trek through the jungle, with steep mountains on either side... and the added fun of being on train tracks, with the odd train trying to run you over when it felt like it.
Compared to the day before it was rather muted, and the sight of Machu Pichu on the top of a very big hill meant everyone went to bed very early. No Inca Tequila was touched.
Salkantay Day 3
Weather... The guide said it wouldn't rain today. It pours for a good three hours of walking, and then is sunny for the rest of the days events.
Llama Count... 0... Although I am sure the Dutch and Turkish guys did good impressions of llamas many times in the evening.
Today was an easier day... in walking terms. We only plodded for the morning, through beautiful cloud forests, with humming birds, wild orchids, waterfalls, and peruvian rain. Definite highlight was discovering wild avocado trees- even if the were lacking avocado.
We returned to civilisation for lunch, and it was a shock. The villages restaurant had blaring trance music to accompany the inevitable lunch of rice and meat.
The afternoon was scheduled for rest and relaxation. It began with a classically terrifying collectivo ride the local hot springs. Here all European bodies were sacrificed to the whims of the local mosquitoes as they waited in the queue to enter the pool. Having perfected a deet mist for the past few weeks around my arms and face, my naked legs were quickly eaten alive by the hungry bloodsucking beggers. The hot springs were beautiful, situated in a valley next to a white water river, with steep mountains on all sides. However, something was definitely afoot, while we were swimming the peruvians were setting up spotlights, and a stage all around us. Before long it became clear, we had arrived just in time for...
Miss Coffee Santa Teresa 2012 Beauty Pageant.
The guide couldn't believe his luck, 'lots of girls in bikinis' he kept repeating.
'Lots of local village girls in bikinis' the Spanish and Dutch guys added
... and so began the excruciatingly slow build up to the the pageant.
It began with a speech by the mayor, this lasted for almost half an hour. The highlight of the speech was definitely the statement that high culture tourist events like these would attract more tourists. To be fair one particular Dutch guy was on the edge of his seat for the whole contest. Then we had a couple of local folk bands... we asked the guide if they were famous, he replied enthusiastically yes yes... they are from Cusco.
The girls arrived two and a half hours late. They then proceeded to change into their formal dress wear in the banos (bathroom) for the hot springs. The only problem with this was that the doors had gaps at the top, and the eager members of the local crowd, broke through the lines of (heavily armed) security to take a picture over the top of the doors.
Finally the girls arrived, all dressed in white, with masks of make up diamante jewellery, and very delicate high heels. They performed a dance routine, which was a little bit confused, and almost ended with one candidate falling into the hot springs.
Then it was time for a change of costume and more folk music. The girls appeared in their traditional dress... if their traditional dress conformed to the dress code of a Halloween in the Mean Girls film, with no brightly coloured hemline grazing anything lower than a buttock, and every chest pumped up to its full magnitude with the aid of a tightly fitting corset. It was time for an even more confused dance routine.
By this time it was getting late, and the guide decided he couldn't possibly give our driver any more beer (I am not joking at this point, this was how the driver was being bribed to stay at the beauty pageant.) So we all tramped back for an even scarier ride in the taxi, along a cliff lined road in the middle of Peruvian wilderness. Sadly we did not get to see what the girls would wear for their 'night time' and 'miss nice' routines.
By this point the health anxious Dutch guy and the Turkish guy had consumed a fair few beers. Their mid life crises were well and truly pushed over the edge by a bottle of the local Inca Tequila. This concoction had never seen a bottle of Tequila in its life. It tasted a bit like Irish porcine, and the Tea with Tea I had tried in Bolivia. Absolutely vile stuff. Anyway before long, the Turkish guy was declaring he was off to the Amazon to build a bonfire, and the Dutch guy was stumbling around looking for a wild pizza.
The drunken two had very sore heads the next morning. The greatest shock of the night was that the Dutch guy had found a woman to go to bed with... A female baby tarantula had crawled in beside him in the night. On being presented with this hairy specimen the following day, he could only reply that he was glad he had finally found a woman. Spider was returned to jungle pretty quickly, as he was definitely still not sober, and no one quite put it past him trying to kiss his new found love.
I am sure you are on the edge of your seat wanting to hear who won Miss Coffee 2012.... Luckily the guide had returned for the finale after dinner. Apparently a 19 year old called Jocelyn won, she was single and ran the local chicken shop. The guide seemed surprisingly well informed... when asked about his marital status he replied that he wasn't married but his girl friend definitely was.
Llama Count... 0... Although I am sure the Dutch and Turkish guys did good impressions of llamas many times in the evening.
Today was an easier day... in walking terms. We only plodded for the morning, through beautiful cloud forests, with humming birds, wild orchids, waterfalls, and peruvian rain. Definite highlight was discovering wild avocado trees- even if the were lacking avocado.
We returned to civilisation for lunch, and it was a shock. The villages restaurant had blaring trance music to accompany the inevitable lunch of rice and meat.
The afternoon was scheduled for rest and relaxation. It began with a classically terrifying collectivo ride the local hot springs. Here all European bodies were sacrificed to the whims of the local mosquitoes as they waited in the queue to enter the pool. Having perfected a deet mist for the past few weeks around my arms and face, my naked legs were quickly eaten alive by the hungry bloodsucking beggers. The hot springs were beautiful, situated in a valley next to a white water river, with steep mountains on all sides. However, something was definitely afoot, while we were swimming the peruvians were setting up spotlights, and a stage all around us. Before long it became clear, we had arrived just in time for...
Miss Coffee Santa Teresa 2012 Beauty Pageant.
The guide couldn't believe his luck, 'lots of girls in bikinis' he kept repeating.
'Lots of local village girls in bikinis' the Spanish and Dutch guys added
... and so began the excruciatingly slow build up to the the pageant.
It began with a speech by the mayor, this lasted for almost half an hour. The highlight of the speech was definitely the statement that high culture tourist events like these would attract more tourists. To be fair one particular Dutch guy was on the edge of his seat for the whole contest. Then we had a couple of local folk bands... we asked the guide if they were famous, he replied enthusiastically yes yes... they are from Cusco.
The girls arrived two and a half hours late. They then proceeded to change into their formal dress wear in the banos (bathroom) for the hot springs. The only problem with this was that the doors had gaps at the top, and the eager members of the local crowd, broke through the lines of (heavily armed) security to take a picture over the top of the doors.
Finally the girls arrived, all dressed in white, with masks of make up diamante jewellery, and very delicate high heels. They performed a dance routine, which was a little bit confused, and almost ended with one candidate falling into the hot springs.
Then it was time for a change of costume and more folk music. The girls appeared in their traditional dress... if their traditional dress conformed to the dress code of a Halloween in the Mean Girls film, with no brightly coloured hemline grazing anything lower than a buttock, and every chest pumped up to its full magnitude with the aid of a tightly fitting corset. It was time for an even more confused dance routine.
By this time it was getting late, and the guide decided he couldn't possibly give our driver any more beer (I am not joking at this point, this was how the driver was being bribed to stay at the beauty pageant.) So we all tramped back for an even scarier ride in the taxi, along a cliff lined road in the middle of Peruvian wilderness. Sadly we did not get to see what the girls would wear for their 'night time' and 'miss nice' routines.
By this point the health anxious Dutch guy and the Turkish guy had consumed a fair few beers. Their mid life crises were well and truly pushed over the edge by a bottle of the local Inca Tequila. This concoction had never seen a bottle of Tequila in its life. It tasted a bit like Irish porcine, and the Tea with Tea I had tried in Bolivia. Absolutely vile stuff. Anyway before long, the Turkish guy was declaring he was off to the Amazon to build a bonfire, and the Dutch guy was stumbling around looking for a wild pizza.
The drunken two had very sore heads the next morning. The greatest shock of the night was that the Dutch guy had found a woman to go to bed with... A female baby tarantula had crawled in beside him in the night. On being presented with this hairy specimen the following day, he could only reply that he was glad he had finally found a woman. Spider was returned to jungle pretty quickly, as he was definitely still not sober, and no one quite put it past him trying to kiss his new found love.
I am sure you are on the edge of your seat wanting to hear who won Miss Coffee 2012.... Luckily the guide had returned for the finale after dinner. Apparently a 19 year old called Jocelyn won, she was single and ran the local chicken shop. The guide seemed surprisingly well informed... when asked about his marital status he replied that he wasn't married but his girl friend definitely was.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)