Were on the bus from Uyuni and headed to La Paz. Nearly the entire bus is filled with foreigners, aside from two Bolivians sitting in front of Dave and I, many that weve run into on and off through Bolivia so far. A couple Americans, some Brits, and a whole gaggle of Israelis (dont know what it is about those Israelis, but I have never met a more-hated ethnic group amongst travelers in my life. everywhere we went, it was always "yadda yadda those goddamn israelis blah blah". still dont know what thats about, dave and i both found it really prevalent. maybe because they travel in large groups and party harder than anyone else and come off a bit cold to outsiders? got me.) Pretty soon we all drop off to sleep, expecting to be that much closer to La Paz when we awake.
The bus stops. Its the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. We all wake up and look around. Is the driver taking a nap? The driver comes back and announces that theres a roadblock, that we wont be going anywhere until the morning. Than he moves back to the front and drops off to sleep. Were confused. Arent we on a main highway? But after about a half hour of foreign rumblings about ass-backwards Bolivia, we all fall back to sleep with the belief that we will indeed get moving again in the morning.
Its early morning, barely light out, and were all waking up again. Its been about 4 hours since the bus stopped. We look out the window and then, realizing what were seeing, head outside for a better look. Buses and trucks and automobiles, but mostly just hundreds of buses, are lined up for miles in either direction. And on the side of the road, people have begun to walk. Bolivians with children or packs on their back. Women in their bowler hats. Men chewing coca leaves. And travelers lugging backpacks and suitcases. All moving down the road. We find the driver, standing on the corner shooting the shit with a couple others, and ask him whats up. He explains that the miners are striking for better work conditions, and that theyve set up a roadblock in the middle of the highway to draw attention to their cause. He explained that he personally thought it would be done before the end of the day but added that the previous miners strike of this nature had lasted 5 days. He told us we were welcome to wait on the bus, of course, but there was also the option of grabbing our stuff and continuing on foot, past the roadblock and to the nearest town of Oruro, about 30 minutes by bus and an estimated 4-5 hours on foot. Dave and I, along with the other passengers, evaluated our situation. Less than one bottle of water and a bag of roasted beans wed grabbed at a rest stop and found unfortunately to be inedible little toothbreakers. We decided to hoof it. After a quick toothbrush and a pee on the side of the highway, we put on our walking shoes and went on our way, along with hundreds of other people doing the exact same thing. So there we were, in Bolivia, with our packs on our backs, walking on the highway because some miners got mad and decided to make a statement. Now I cant really blame those miners, god knows their work conditions can only be improved upon, and it was clear that most of the other Bolivians held up by the strike didnt mind so much either, kind of a solidarity thing, which was really interesting to see. The fact is, as much as the situation could have seemed hopeless or hugely unpleasant (we had no idea how long wed have to be walking or if the strike would end or, if we did reach the nearest town, there would be any bus seats available anytime soon), it really wasnt that bad. We had all of our stuff, we could carry it with us, we were both in good health by then, we had comfortable shoes on and Ive never really minded walking. And to top it off, everyone else was in the same situaiton. In the end, it just didnt suck, as much as it could have sucked very very much. (Dave was pretty good about it too, though he did lose it temporarily when we got to the road block and it was a few large stones in the street. He couldnt believe thats all that was stopping us from being on a moving bus to La Paz. Turns out that was just the first part of the roadblock, a type of warning, and they actually had a more effective one with barriers further down the road). When we hit the main barrier, we had a chance to check out the situation, which was actually very festive, at least for the miners (hell they were on vacation). There was a lot of drinking and dynamite being set off and cheering and rallying. We came upon a group of miners seated on the barrier with hard hats, whiskey and cheek pouches of coca leaves. I asked if we could take their picture, and they were all about it. One of the best pictures of the trip.
After a couple miles of walking, by this time on the other side of the roadblock, things started to move. Buses and trucks were starting there engines. And people stranded on the side of the road listening to radios started to sprint towards where theyd left their means of transportation. Apparently, the strike was over, or at least on hold temporarily to let traffic pass through, we never found out which (though later in La Paz we did come across several demonstrations of miners and their supporters parading through the streets, so Im not quite sure how that all fits together). Buses started to appear that had passsed the block and were headed in our original intended direction. Hundreds of people were flagging down their buses and hopping back on to continue the ride. We met up with a group of people from our bus that we found on the side of the road and waited for our own, which appeared about 25 minutes later (so many buses). With a sigh of relief, we flagged it down and hopped on. Our strange adventure had come to an end. On to La Paz. Really.
Sunday, 2 March 2008
Friday, 22 February 2008
Bolivia (Salar de Uyuni - 4 Day Jeep Trip)
Day 1 - After a late start from Tupiza, we hop into a land cruiser with an old guy from Florida, a young couple from Rotterdam, and the driver and the cook in the front. The car has both a middle bench seat and a back one so we alternate who sits 2 in the back with little leg room or 3 in the front with little wiggle room. The views are pretty spectacular, just miles of nothingness, rolling hills and endless views as we wind our way up to 4000+ meters with crazy dirt roads and no guardrails in site protecting us from the sheer cliff drop off. The day consists of 7 hours total driving, incredibly bumpy roads, one flat tire, and planned stops along the way to enjoy views or certain points of interest or for lunch. Checking out the llamas while we wait for lunch is our favorite part, with their pink tassle ear tags and blase attitudes. We practice our llama dances. Had to be there. Good fun. Later on we stop to stay the night in a very small village called San Antonio. Were dusty as can be, there are no showers (which the hostel was not truthful about, to say the least) and our snot is black. Nice. Its very cold. We go hunting for beer unsuccessfully with the Dutch couple and end up playing basketball with a 17 year old trash-talking Bolivian baller girl. In the dark. On a flawless court. In a tiny Bolivian village that doesnt even have electricity (we later would see, without learning why, that nearly all villages, no matter how small or dirt poor, maintain a very respectable basketball court, even if that court is the only concrete within 50 miles). Though we all would have sucked anyways, our performances were made even worse due to the altitude and we headed off to dinner afterwards beat and breathless. The next day would be the hot spring, red lake, green lake and geysers.
Day 2 - After another late start (5 instead of 4, the guides overslept because they were all hungover, nice) and a breakfast of stale bread and dulce de leche, we head out to the first stop, a lookout point at 4900 meters or about 16000 feet (perspective - Mt. Hood summit is under 12000 feet). The point of the stop was to check out ghost town beneath us, but fog obscured the view so that plan was nixed. Next up - flat tire as we rolled through a town about 30 minutes later. But the good news was that it was right in front of a market, so we all hopped out to stock up on beer, coca leaves, suck on our cheek pouches of coca leaves, the driver fixes the flat and one we go! Next to the first lake that we reach where we finally spot flamingoes, the jeep stops. Two more tires sizzling their way to flat. Hmm, could it have been the maniacal speeding over potholed terrain? Perhaps. The guys hop out inspect it, take into consideration our lack of a spare and our total isloation in the middle of nowhere, then tell us all to hop in quick. Were making a run for it! We soon catch up with another jeep and, after more consultations, they decide to bike pump (yes bike pump) our tires back to plumpness. This should be good. So we get all pumped up, guides holler at us to hop in, run for it, stop, pump, hop in, etc. And so it went until we actually broke our trusty bike pump and had to flag down another jeep to use theirs (also having tire trouble). We do this dance for 45 minutes until we reach the hot spring, a nice, hot, perfect little reward for the troubles prior to it. Soon it starts to rain, fine. Hail, hmm. Lightening, everyone out and time for lunch. After lunch, we head to Laguna Verde, or green lake. Jaw-knocking, head-bouncing, feet-leaving-the-floor 25 minute ride to the lake. A pretty lake sure, but maybe aquamarineish at best and windy and cold as the gates of hell. The day hasnt been ideal and this "highlight" is certainly less than that. Most of the sites for the day were either not what they were described to be or bypassed due to time crunch. We all basically just laugh about it all, its neccessary, the other option is being bummed that this supposedly amazing trip and stellar sites really arent panning out the way we anticipated. The hugely knowledgeable and delightfully friendly and chatty guides (as we were led to believe) havent uttered a word to us to explain anything except an occasional "this is all desert" or "now were going to see another lake," even though theyre aware that I can translate for the non-Spanish speaking group. And while the views remain spectacular throughout the trip, ranging from mountains to desert to plains, the negatives steadily move to outweigh the positives until even the usually upbeat us are less than stoked about the situation. We drive back to the lunch spot to repack and then were informed that the final stop for the day is the geysers. Expectations are low. We arrive at the geysers and step out of the car. By now the wind has picked up even more and smoky sulphur smells are everywhere. We approach the geysers and the guides motion for us to follow them past the Danger Do Not Cross This Point signs (no gates or anything) to actually walk amongst the geysers, which are little pockets spread within a sunken crater type area bubbling and oozing with molten earth. As we walk between these pockets, we can hear the lava hissing beneath the thin layer of earth that were walking on. This is absolutely the worst idea EVER. Bad bad idea, incredibly dangerous. And yet genius and not even close to possible anywhere else like the states (hello liability). One giant roiling geyser that the guides led us to was known to blow to a height of 20 feet. And we were practically standing over it. Amazing. Stupid yes. But completely amazing. Finally its off to our overnight stop by the laguna colorada (red lake).
Day 3 - I wake up, pissed and sick. Our accomodations are gnarly. The bathrooms are the worst thing that I could ever imagine, and yet neccesary to use because one would have to walk 15 minutes to get to a decent pop-a-squat spot outside the village. For the third day, there is no sign of those promised cold showers; in fact there are shower stalls joined onto the bathroom but locked and mysteriously out of service. When the "maid" accidentally leaves the door open, Dave peeks in and discovers why none of us will be showering - all of the used toilet paper from the toilets (you dont flush TP in most of SA, just throw it in the bin) is piled up three feet high in one of the shower stalls. Oh so thats why it smells like death and mutilated animals and anything else you could imagine that would smell really really bad. Along with the toilets all filled to the brim with shit because half the people staying there dont understand or werent explained or maybe just dont care about the flush method of pouring buckets of water into the toilets because there is no running water. And apparently everyone in the hostel had to do their worst business at the same time. The people working there make no attempt to improve the bathroom conditions. Theres a South African couple also staying in our room that we spend a lot of time with - Jade the girl and I understand each other and bond through our mutual neccesity for non-shit slogged bathrooms. Anyways, as bad as that all was, waking up sick didnt help things, and I readily admit that everything was definitely tinted with an extra shade of god-please-kill-me.
And so the day went, as we continued on our 3rd day of the Jeep Trip from Hell, my fever grew, as did my feeling of just being so over it. And Dave, trooper as he usually is, was just about as over it as I was. Dust and dirt and mediocre sights and bad guides and sick travel buddy and annoying old guy from Florida (I wont go too into that, but just bout everyone on the whole trip hated that guy, and we were stuck with him in that wee jeep for 4 days. the last straw was when he tried to explain to our guides that in America the common name for Mexicans is wetbacks. asshole.)
At the end of the day, we ended up stopping in Uyuni for an hour for supplies before we headed out to our hostel by the salt flats for the night. Now Uyuni is also where the trip would be ending the next day after the salt flat tour and it was just about the most tempting thing in the world to throw a peace-out at Dave and grab a nice hotel for the night while I waited for him to finish up the tour. I was feeling about as awful as possible, and another tour day just sounded like hell. But that final day was to be the salt flats, essentially the entire reason that I did the trip in the first place. Theyre just something that you shouldnt miss, especially if youve already paid and organized a tour. So after a healthy dose of suck-it-up-stew and dont-be-such-a-whiny-little-bitch pasta, I bit the bullet and stayed on course.
That night we stayed at a wonderfully surprising little salt hotel (made entiely of salt), which we were all thrilled about (when our jeep pulled up, Jade, who knew that I was sick, came to the door, grabbed my hand and silently lead me into the joy that was a clean hotel and nice little rooms. She understood me.) Anyways, while Dave and the rest of our group put their feet up with some beers and got together for the evening, I went straight to bed with some medicine from her doctor husband Sean(loved him too) and slept off my fever in peace. Oh, and on a sidenote, a Bolivian animal that we saw a lot of on the trip and just started referring to as a deer, cause it kind of is one, wondered into the hotel and spent the next 20 minutes hawking spitballs at Sean. I got up for about 2 seconds to witness the hilarity, but according to Dave it was the highlight of the evening.
Day 4 - Off to the salt flats (salar de uyuni). Go on and google them or wikipedia them or whatever. They are a pride of Bolivian tourism and yes they are quite amazing. We went in the wet season, so all of the flats were covered by anywhere from an inch to half a foot of water, the effect is a giant mirror. Really spectacular. Weve got pictures. The highlight of the jeep tour. Thats all Im good for on that subject.
After the salt flats, it was into Uyuni and the end of the tour. We exchanged info with the dutch and south african couples and said goodbye, with a few hours to kill in town until our 14ish hour bus trip to La Paz later that evening. Not much going on in Uyuni but notable mentions - paying for a room just to get our first (and hot) showers in 5 days, and also the most brilliant Minute Man pizza place, like 8 small slices of heaven on earth. Then 8pm came and onto La Paz.
Day 2 - After another late start (5 instead of 4, the guides overslept because they were all hungover, nice) and a breakfast of stale bread and dulce de leche, we head out to the first stop, a lookout point at 4900 meters or about 16000 feet (perspective - Mt. Hood summit is under 12000 feet). The point of the stop was to check out ghost town beneath us, but fog obscured the view so that plan was nixed. Next up - flat tire as we rolled through a town about 30 minutes later. But the good news was that it was right in front of a market, so we all hopped out to stock up on beer, coca leaves, suck on our cheek pouches of coca leaves, the driver fixes the flat and one we go! Next to the first lake that we reach where we finally spot flamingoes, the jeep stops. Two more tires sizzling their way to flat. Hmm, could it have been the maniacal speeding over potholed terrain? Perhaps. The guys hop out inspect it, take into consideration our lack of a spare and our total isloation in the middle of nowhere, then tell us all to hop in quick. Were making a run for it! We soon catch up with another jeep and, after more consultations, they decide to bike pump (yes bike pump) our tires back to plumpness. This should be good. So we get all pumped up, guides holler at us to hop in, run for it, stop, pump, hop in, etc. And so it went until we actually broke our trusty bike pump and had to flag down another jeep to use theirs (also having tire trouble). We do this dance for 45 minutes until we reach the hot spring, a nice, hot, perfect little reward for the troubles prior to it. Soon it starts to rain, fine. Hail, hmm. Lightening, everyone out and time for lunch. After lunch, we head to Laguna Verde, or green lake. Jaw-knocking, head-bouncing, feet-leaving-the-floor 25 minute ride to the lake. A pretty lake sure, but maybe aquamarineish at best and windy and cold as the gates of hell. The day hasnt been ideal and this "highlight" is certainly less than that. Most of the sites for the day were either not what they were described to be or bypassed due to time crunch. We all basically just laugh about it all, its neccessary, the other option is being bummed that this supposedly amazing trip and stellar sites really arent panning out the way we anticipated. The hugely knowledgeable and delightfully friendly and chatty guides (as we were led to believe) havent uttered a word to us to explain anything except an occasional "this is all desert" or "now were going to see another lake," even though theyre aware that I can translate for the non-Spanish speaking group. And while the views remain spectacular throughout the trip, ranging from mountains to desert to plains, the negatives steadily move to outweigh the positives until even the usually upbeat us are less than stoked about the situation. We drive back to the lunch spot to repack and then were informed that the final stop for the day is the geysers. Expectations are low. We arrive at the geysers and step out of the car. By now the wind has picked up even more and smoky sulphur smells are everywhere. We approach the geysers and the guides motion for us to follow them past the Danger Do Not Cross This Point signs (no gates or anything) to actually walk amongst the geysers, which are little pockets spread within a sunken crater type area bubbling and oozing with molten earth. As we walk between these pockets, we can hear the lava hissing beneath the thin layer of earth that were walking on. This is absolutely the worst idea EVER. Bad bad idea, incredibly dangerous. And yet genius and not even close to possible anywhere else like the states (hello liability). One giant roiling geyser that the guides led us to was known to blow to a height of 20 feet. And we were practically standing over it. Amazing. Stupid yes. But completely amazing. Finally its off to our overnight stop by the laguna colorada (red lake).
Day 3 - I wake up, pissed and sick. Our accomodations are gnarly. The bathrooms are the worst thing that I could ever imagine, and yet neccesary to use because one would have to walk 15 minutes to get to a decent pop-a-squat spot outside the village. For the third day, there is no sign of those promised cold showers; in fact there are shower stalls joined onto the bathroom but locked and mysteriously out of service. When the "maid" accidentally leaves the door open, Dave peeks in and discovers why none of us will be showering - all of the used toilet paper from the toilets (you dont flush TP in most of SA, just throw it in the bin) is piled up three feet high in one of the shower stalls. Oh so thats why it smells like death and mutilated animals and anything else you could imagine that would smell really really bad. Along with the toilets all filled to the brim with shit because half the people staying there dont understand or werent explained or maybe just dont care about the flush method of pouring buckets of water into the toilets because there is no running water. And apparently everyone in the hostel had to do their worst business at the same time. The people working there make no attempt to improve the bathroom conditions. Theres a South African couple also staying in our room that we spend a lot of time with - Jade the girl and I understand each other and bond through our mutual neccesity for non-shit slogged bathrooms. Anyways, as bad as that all was, waking up sick didnt help things, and I readily admit that everything was definitely tinted with an extra shade of god-please-kill-me.
And so the day went, as we continued on our 3rd day of the Jeep Trip from Hell, my fever grew, as did my feeling of just being so over it. And Dave, trooper as he usually is, was just about as over it as I was. Dust and dirt and mediocre sights and bad guides and sick travel buddy and annoying old guy from Florida (I wont go too into that, but just bout everyone on the whole trip hated that guy, and we were stuck with him in that wee jeep for 4 days. the last straw was when he tried to explain to our guides that in America the common name for Mexicans is wetbacks. asshole.)
At the end of the day, we ended up stopping in Uyuni for an hour for supplies before we headed out to our hostel by the salt flats for the night. Now Uyuni is also where the trip would be ending the next day after the salt flat tour and it was just about the most tempting thing in the world to throw a peace-out at Dave and grab a nice hotel for the night while I waited for him to finish up the tour. I was feeling about as awful as possible, and another tour day just sounded like hell. But that final day was to be the salt flats, essentially the entire reason that I did the trip in the first place. Theyre just something that you shouldnt miss, especially if youve already paid and organized a tour. So after a healthy dose of suck-it-up-stew and dont-be-such-a-whiny-little-bitch pasta, I bit the bullet and stayed on course.
That night we stayed at a wonderfully surprising little salt hotel (made entiely of salt), which we were all thrilled about (when our jeep pulled up, Jade, who knew that I was sick, came to the door, grabbed my hand and silently lead me into the joy that was a clean hotel and nice little rooms. She understood me.) Anyways, while Dave and the rest of our group put their feet up with some beers and got together for the evening, I went straight to bed with some medicine from her doctor husband Sean(loved him too) and slept off my fever in peace. Oh, and on a sidenote, a Bolivian animal that we saw a lot of on the trip and just started referring to as a deer, cause it kind of is one, wondered into the hotel and spent the next 20 minutes hawking spitballs at Sean. I got up for about 2 seconds to witness the hilarity, but according to Dave it was the highlight of the evening.
Day 4 - Off to the salt flats (salar de uyuni). Go on and google them or wikipedia them or whatever. They are a pride of Bolivian tourism and yes they are quite amazing. We went in the wet season, so all of the flats were covered by anywhere from an inch to half a foot of water, the effect is a giant mirror. Really spectacular. Weve got pictures. The highlight of the jeep tour. Thats all Im good for on that subject.
After the salt flats, it was into Uyuni and the end of the tour. We exchanged info with the dutch and south african couples and said goodbye, with a few hours to kill in town until our 14ish hour bus trip to La Paz later that evening. Not much going on in Uyuni but notable mentions - paying for a room just to get our first (and hot) showers in 5 days, and also the most brilliant Minute Man pizza place, like 8 small slices of heaven on earth. Then 8pm came and onto La Paz.
Bolivia (Crossing the border from Quiaca to Villazon, Tupiza)
On February 15th David and I crossed the Bolivian border on foot, from Quiaca on the Argentine side to Villazon in Bolivia. The crossing was oddly easy; wed prepared for much worse but apparently us foreigners got to head to the front of the line, to our own little window that the manyother people in line did not have the privilege to use. Its good to be gringo. Having already gotten our visas together in Salta, the whole thing took minutes, and we stepped into Bolivia (noting that oddly there was absolutely no one that would have stopped us if wed just chosen to cross the border sin visa or ID, no guards, no cops, no nada). Walking into Bolivia is like entering a whole new...country. Right. Anyways, it was crazy. Way different. Action everywhere, people selling everything, Bolivian women in bowler hats, stockings, and a million layers of traditional clothes (often with a baby in the front and/or a bulging sack on their back), people mawing on coca leaves, empanadas, fruit, crackers, fresh juices, whatever. Lots of snacking, always eating or drinking something.
We head to the bus station for a ticket to Tupiza. Immediately were bombarded with vendors trying to sell us tickets to everywhere/anywhere. We tell them our destination and they point to someone else, send us over with a holler to their buddy. Very possible that we were screwed on the price of our ticket as we had no idea what was what but the good thing is that screwed here means you pay 3 or 3.50 instead of 2.50. Not a bad screw. The 3 hour ride to Tupiza is pretty much ridiculous. All dirt roads, even the big ass coach buses cant negate the very bumpy road. And we stopped about every minute for the first part headed out of town - either wed be picking someone else up on the side of the road or someone would holler to the drivers as we went past and theyd stop to chat or we were picking up the drivers lunch at a little house along the way or we were getting gas or... yeah pretty much any reason to stop we did. And so we went to Tupiza.
We get dropped off outside Tupiza and walk into town, on the way passing a dry riverbed serving as a garbage dump for the town. Dave takes a picture of a guy wheeling a cart with a bunch of garbage bags and then spontaneously dumping them all out and wheeling away. Unbelievable. Tupiza is a small western style town with names for stuff like the Alamo restaurant and tours of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid spots (apparently one version of their life is that they were shot down in a nearby Bolivian town). Not much to see or do there, just a starting point for various popular tours. We stayed at an HI Hostel in Tupiza, nothing great. They were set on selling tours - we went for the 4 day Salar de Uyuni tour for $125 per person leaving the next day, based on recommendations from fellow travellers and lonely planet. We already knew what we wanted to see and everything is so sprawled that a tour is actually pretty neccessary (4 days though? not so sure, more on that later). And as it turned out our tour was delayed by one day, so we got a free nights stay at the hostel and therefore had two full days to check out Tupiza, which was really our first chance to really see Bolivia. This is what we did:
-The wee mini almuerzo. Everywhere you look in Bolivia theres a cheap set lunch (almuerzo) available for anwhere from $1 to $3 (lots of countries have their version of the set lunch, usually a good budget option). Bolivias generally consists of a starter with veggies or salad, a soup, an entree, and dessert (hello jello!). No drink. A filling complete meal for cheap. We called our almuerzo the wee lunch because our salad was a veyr small plate with a transparent boiled slice of a mini carrot, a cooked brocolli floret, and a small pile of onion shavings. Then the entree was a single tuber-potato thing, steak, corn on the cob and beans in the pod. All were miniature sized, quite tiny, except for the beans which were surprisingly huge. The oddest plate ever. I passed on the green jello dessert. We left the restaurant both satisfied and also a bit perplexed over what wed just eaten.
-The markets. Throughout Bolivia there are markets selling just about anything. Street food next to CDs next to socks next to tires next to faucets. Our first look at these markets was in Tupiza. And they were pretty cool looking, all sorts of fruits and beans and cow heads and snacks in the food market we walked around. Wed been advised to watch out for street food, which is both smart and stupid. My experience has basically taught me to spend some time looking around and talking to locals before deciding what to eat. Obviously hygiene is not top priority here, cant say how many times Ive witnessed, for instance, a vendor dropping a piece of bread on the ground and then picking it up and shoving it in the bin with all of the rest. Or friends passing by carts and reaching their grubby hands into the barrel of popcorn while they chat away with their buddy selling that popcorn. Gotta love that. (Update: Weve since had the chance to get our own grubby little hands into some La Paz street food. Tamlaes and fresh squeezed grapefruit or orange juice and greasy sandwiches and humintas, which are like amazing little corn bread things wrapped like tamales but better mmm).
-Canyon walk. On the 2nd unexpected day that we had to spend in Tupiza, we took a suggested excursion to "El Cañon." Hostel girl said it was easy, a straight shot walk out of town. Um no. We got lost at just about every corner and asked for directions about a trillion times. Finally found the canyon and wondered around for a bit, up dry riverbeds and over boulders and such. Great view, but a bit anticlimactic for the difficulty reaching it.
-Coconut ice cream. This deserves its own little blurb. Brilliant, rich, creamy, homemade, 50 cents for 2 cute lil scoops on a cute lil cone. Damn tasty. Dave had it twice in one day. And we took a picture of it too.
-The twin menu conundrum. Pastipizza and Bella Napoli, two different restaurants with separate and independent owners, yet practically an identical menu. And not a typical menu either, there was stuff like the "Gypsy" pizza and bacon and egg sandwiches and chocolate banana pancakes. In other words, not a coincidence. I tried to get an answer from both restaurants about why this was. Neither seemed to have an explanation. And yet the restaurants were not related. Hard to believe that it could all be chalked up to blatant copying. Especially when no one seemed to really care. Very odd.
We head to the bus station for a ticket to Tupiza. Immediately were bombarded with vendors trying to sell us tickets to everywhere/anywhere. We tell them our destination and they point to someone else, send us over with a holler to their buddy. Very possible that we were screwed on the price of our ticket as we had no idea what was what but the good thing is that screwed here means you pay 3 or 3.50 instead of 2.50. Not a bad screw. The 3 hour ride to Tupiza is pretty much ridiculous. All dirt roads, even the big ass coach buses cant negate the very bumpy road. And we stopped about every minute for the first part headed out of town - either wed be picking someone else up on the side of the road or someone would holler to the drivers as we went past and theyd stop to chat or we were picking up the drivers lunch at a little house along the way or we were getting gas or... yeah pretty much any reason to stop we did. And so we went to Tupiza.
We get dropped off outside Tupiza and walk into town, on the way passing a dry riverbed serving as a garbage dump for the town. Dave takes a picture of a guy wheeling a cart with a bunch of garbage bags and then spontaneously dumping them all out and wheeling away. Unbelievable. Tupiza is a small western style town with names for stuff like the Alamo restaurant and tours of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid spots (apparently one version of their life is that they were shot down in a nearby Bolivian town). Not much to see or do there, just a starting point for various popular tours. We stayed at an HI Hostel in Tupiza, nothing great. They were set on selling tours - we went for the 4 day Salar de Uyuni tour for $125 per person leaving the next day, based on recommendations from fellow travellers and lonely planet. We already knew what we wanted to see and everything is so sprawled that a tour is actually pretty neccessary (4 days though? not so sure, more on that later). And as it turned out our tour was delayed by one day, so we got a free nights stay at the hostel and therefore had two full days to check out Tupiza, which was really our first chance to really see Bolivia. This is what we did:
-The wee mini almuerzo. Everywhere you look in Bolivia theres a cheap set lunch (almuerzo) available for anwhere from $1 to $3 (lots of countries have their version of the set lunch, usually a good budget option). Bolivias generally consists of a starter with veggies or salad, a soup, an entree, and dessert (hello jello!). No drink. A filling complete meal for cheap. We called our almuerzo the wee lunch because our salad was a veyr small plate with a transparent boiled slice of a mini carrot, a cooked brocolli floret, and a small pile of onion shavings. Then the entree was a single tuber-potato thing, steak, corn on the cob and beans in the pod. All were miniature sized, quite tiny, except for the beans which were surprisingly huge. The oddest plate ever. I passed on the green jello dessert. We left the restaurant both satisfied and also a bit perplexed over what wed just eaten.
-The markets. Throughout Bolivia there are markets selling just about anything. Street food next to CDs next to socks next to tires next to faucets. Our first look at these markets was in Tupiza. And they were pretty cool looking, all sorts of fruits and beans and cow heads and snacks in the food market we walked around. Wed been advised to watch out for street food, which is both smart and stupid. My experience has basically taught me to spend some time looking around and talking to locals before deciding what to eat. Obviously hygiene is not top priority here, cant say how many times Ive witnessed, for instance, a vendor dropping a piece of bread on the ground and then picking it up and shoving it in the bin with all of the rest. Or friends passing by carts and reaching their grubby hands into the barrel of popcorn while they chat away with their buddy selling that popcorn. Gotta love that. (Update: Weve since had the chance to get our own grubby little hands into some La Paz street food. Tamlaes and fresh squeezed grapefruit or orange juice and greasy sandwiches and humintas, which are like amazing little corn bread things wrapped like tamales but better mmm).
-Canyon walk. On the 2nd unexpected day that we had to spend in Tupiza, we took a suggested excursion to "El Cañon." Hostel girl said it was easy, a straight shot walk out of town. Um no. We got lost at just about every corner and asked for directions about a trillion times. Finally found the canyon and wondered around for a bit, up dry riverbeds and over boulders and such. Great view, but a bit anticlimactic for the difficulty reaching it.
-Coconut ice cream. This deserves its own little blurb. Brilliant, rich, creamy, homemade, 50 cents for 2 cute lil scoops on a cute lil cone. Damn tasty. Dave had it twice in one day. And we took a picture of it too.
-The twin menu conundrum. Pastipizza and Bella Napoli, two different restaurants with separate and independent owners, yet practically an identical menu. And not a typical menu either, there was stuff like the "Gypsy" pizza and bacon and egg sandwiches and chocolate banana pancakes. In other words, not a coincidence. I tried to get an answer from both restaurants about why this was. Neither seemed to have an explanation. And yet the restaurants were not related. Hard to believe that it could all be chalked up to blatant copying. Especially when no one seemed to really care. Very odd.
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Uruguay (Montevideo, Punta del Diablo) and Argentina (BA, Mendoza, Salta)
Ok, so Montevideo. What exactly is it about this city that draws so many positive reviews? Now, to be fair - I arrived on a Sunday, everything was closed, and I stayed in a hotel hosted by the Adams Family. But I was prepared to completely dig this city, hell it was described as a mini BA and my feelings on BA are quite clear. But in the end I just found that Montevideo lacked any sort of vibrance or character to put it on my map. And it was a bit sketchy too, in fact it was the first place since arriving in South America where I definitely did not feel comfortable walking either by myself or even with another person. A lot of very persistant bold beggers, to the point where you start to think that if you dont give them a few coins, they might just take them instead. So thats really all I have to say about Montevideo, I have zero reason to ever return. (But a little sidenote - I refuse to believe that no one could enjoy this city. Im only speaking from my personal experience. Perhaps there really is a cool little beat happening in the heart of Montevideo, I just never found it myself and dont have any interest attempting the search another time). Anways, one positive thing did come of the city and that would be me gaining a travel buddy. The Smiths friend Dave Forest, who came along with the family to the British Virgin Islands, had emailed me a while ago to let me know that he was wandering South America as well. I let him know I was headed for Uruguay and invited him to meet up if he was around. Fast forward a week or so later and we meet up in Montevideo (which Dave is equally unimpressed with, thank you very much) with plans to move farther north up the coast. The major plus of my new addition - venturing out of the "safe" (although awesome) countries of Chile and Argentina and into Bolivia and Peru, where I otherwise might not have gone solo. The scope of my trip just got much more interesting.
We skip out of Montevideo after 2ish days. Punta del Diablo is our next stop, a breath of fresh air/ hippy surf/small beachy town wonderfulness. We can tell right off that this is our kind of place. You can walk everywhere within 20 minutes, all dirt roads, there is no ATM, no bus station, no money exchange except for the 20% commission that they take at the one hostel in town (also one or two small hotels). That one hostel, an HI affiliate, is actually pretty awesome but even the dorms are too expensive for our liking. We stay one night and start hunting for a cheap cabana, little beach huts with varying degrees of accomodation that are readily available for rent all over town. We found ours through a small town market advertising a couple cabanas for rent by the owners, and for a little hut with 2 beds, bathroom, full kitchen, hot water and a little porchy front step, we pay just half of what we payed at the hostel (the extra character was no charge). Love that. And we spend the next 5 days or so loving Diablo more and more. In fact, its the silly annoying little things about a small beach town that make us like it so much. Like the tiny ass bed I slept on with a lumpy foam pad (for the record Dave offered to switch but Im a stubborn old bitch, set in my ways and principles), flies and mosquitoes buzzing around all night because we accidentally left the door open. And the refrigerator that stopped working, thus threatening to spoil all of the food that wed purchased (the owners hooked us up with a cooler, problem solved). Or the fact that we went broke halfway through and had to go to a bordertown by Brazil called Chuy 45 minutes away to get some cash out, and they wouldnt even let Dave take cash out because it claimed to be out of service after I did my transaction. Knowing that liquor was spendy in diablo and that we wouldnt have the dough to hit the bars anyways, we made sure to include alcohol in our Chuy purchases. In fact, we went on a mission that day for bloody marys. Literally, a mission. Bloody marys dont really exist in south america, except for in some english pubs here and there, and they especially dont exist in uruguay. But we had a craving. So we sought out each ingredient separately and with some difficullty. Worcestire sauce (called english sauce, whatever), check. Tabasco ($!), check. Tomato juice (more like sauce and super hard to find), check. Salt. Lime. Pepper. Ice. And yet, at the end, so damn worth it. Not to mention the meals we conjured up for ourselves out of very limited means, like the infamous egg noodle meal. We were very very cash-poor (ok broke) and worked with the few things wed bought. But we were pretty set on a 3-course meal. So as an app we had sardines (mistake purchase), chopped olives and mustard, stacked on a fork and straight into the mouth. Oddly brilliant. As an entree we made whole wheat pasta with sauteed onions and garlic and overeasy fried eggs on top, with hot sauce and parmesan to top it off. Again, brilliant. And for dessert we cut in half a little stacked cookie that we bought in the market for 40 cents. Damn fine. And that, along with a cheap no good bottle of red, was our meal. Weird and random but also ridiculously tasty, one of the best meals Ive had in SA thank you very much. In fact we ended up repeating our egg noodle meal another time or two, always with great success. All in all, while we could have stood for a bit less rain, Diablo was top notch good times, a definite highlight of my trip thus far (the end of January, beginning of February).
After Diablo, it was back to Buenos Aires with a few days at the Palermo House hostel (cheap stay but not recommended, dirtay dirtayness). Notable activities in BA - our two day search for an affordable pool, as in not the US$70 Hilton pool pass, to relieve us of the stifling summer heat (a success in the end, closeish to Club de Amigos and alto Palermo, cant remember the name), my walking shoe hunt that ended with buying a purple converse-like oddity of a pair, and an afternoon showing of Charlie Wilsons War (movies on lazy days in foreign countries are not to be underestimated). At this point BA is beginning to feel more like a homey recharge spot, and it feels good to spend a few days just hanging around.
Next up, Mendoza. The Napa of Argentina, Mendoza is known especially for churning out that fine wine that is the Malbec. Definitely a neat little town, with a lot of different ways to spend your time there. If I had to do it again, I might have tried to stay in a little hostel/B&B type thing further out of town and closer to the various vineyards. As it was, we ended up in a really nice place in town by the bus station called Hostel Lao, with a pool and good common areas. Most of the 3 days were spent wandering around town, exploring the huge city park, drinking wine, etc. We took one day to do a bike tour of the vineyards, hopped on a city bus across the street from Lao, took it about 30 minutes out and rented some bikes with a map for about 10 bucks. After touring a chocolate/liquor company and one or two vineyards, we stopped for a tabla lunch, basically a big board of cheeses, breads, prosciutto, olives, tapenade, etc. Yum. The last stop was a Frenchman who moved to Mendoza with his wife to start their own vineyard, without any prior knowledge, and there they were doing their thing. We enjoyed this stop the most, as the owner was very friendly, really informative and also quite generous with his pours :) As we sat there talking to him, we heard a bang on his roof. Odd. Then another. Before we knew it, hail up to the size of ping pong balls was raining down from the sky. As they raced to move their cars under cover, we stayed under the cover of the tasting room. After less than 5 minutes the hail stopped and the wife came back with a report - she estimated that 20% of the grape crop was lost to the hail. And while this seemed like a huge deal to all of us, the owner just shrugged his shoulders in a what-can-you-do motion. Amazing the damage just a few minutes can do. To sum it up, we learned that and also one more lesson in Mendoza - always double check the date, no matter what the computer says, when scheduling bus tickets online. We showed up for our bus to Salta one day early, and had to book one more night in another hostel (Chimbas hostel, very nice) before we could get out of town. Woops. Live and learn.
And then theres Salta, where we spent 2 nights. Now Salta is a very pretty town, great for walking, the HI Backpackers Soul hostel had a lot of activities and it certainly had potential day excursion wise, we were thinking paragliding. But all I can really relate about Salta is getting our visas together for Bolivia, and the big yellow fever do-we-have-it-or-not vaccination fiasco (both ended up getting ours, and free to top it off). The rest of the time I was sick in bed with a mystery stomachache, which I still havent really figured out, and then Dave had a bad reaction to his vaccine that laid him up with a fever towards the end of our time in Salta and into the night we spent at a hotel in Argentina at the border of Bolivia. So Salta my dear, I never knew ye. Sorry. Moving on.
We skip out of Montevideo after 2ish days. Punta del Diablo is our next stop, a breath of fresh air/ hippy surf/small beachy town wonderfulness. We can tell right off that this is our kind of place. You can walk everywhere within 20 minutes, all dirt roads, there is no ATM, no bus station, no money exchange except for the 20% commission that they take at the one hostel in town (also one or two small hotels). That one hostel, an HI affiliate, is actually pretty awesome but even the dorms are too expensive for our liking. We stay one night and start hunting for a cheap cabana, little beach huts with varying degrees of accomodation that are readily available for rent all over town. We found ours through a small town market advertising a couple cabanas for rent by the owners, and for a little hut with 2 beds, bathroom, full kitchen, hot water and a little porchy front step, we pay just half of what we payed at the hostel (the extra character was no charge). Love that. And we spend the next 5 days or so loving Diablo more and more. In fact, its the silly annoying little things about a small beach town that make us like it so much. Like the tiny ass bed I slept on with a lumpy foam pad (for the record Dave offered to switch but Im a stubborn old bitch, set in my ways and principles), flies and mosquitoes buzzing around all night because we accidentally left the door open. And the refrigerator that stopped working, thus threatening to spoil all of the food that wed purchased (the owners hooked us up with a cooler, problem solved). Or the fact that we went broke halfway through and had to go to a bordertown by Brazil called Chuy 45 minutes away to get some cash out, and they wouldnt even let Dave take cash out because it claimed to be out of service after I did my transaction. Knowing that liquor was spendy in diablo and that we wouldnt have the dough to hit the bars anyways, we made sure to include alcohol in our Chuy purchases. In fact, we went on a mission that day for bloody marys. Literally, a mission. Bloody marys dont really exist in south america, except for in some english pubs here and there, and they especially dont exist in uruguay. But we had a craving. So we sought out each ingredient separately and with some difficullty. Worcestire sauce (called english sauce, whatever), check. Tabasco ($!), check. Tomato juice (more like sauce and super hard to find), check. Salt. Lime. Pepper. Ice. And yet, at the end, so damn worth it. Not to mention the meals we conjured up for ourselves out of very limited means, like the infamous egg noodle meal. We were very very cash-poor (ok broke) and worked with the few things wed bought. But we were pretty set on a 3-course meal. So as an app we had sardines (mistake purchase), chopped olives and mustard, stacked on a fork and straight into the mouth. Oddly brilliant. As an entree we made whole wheat pasta with sauteed onions and garlic and overeasy fried eggs on top, with hot sauce and parmesan to top it off. Again, brilliant. And for dessert we cut in half a little stacked cookie that we bought in the market for 40 cents. Damn fine. And that, along with a cheap no good bottle of red, was our meal. Weird and random but also ridiculously tasty, one of the best meals Ive had in SA thank you very much. In fact we ended up repeating our egg noodle meal another time or two, always with great success. All in all, while we could have stood for a bit less rain, Diablo was top notch good times, a definite highlight of my trip thus far (the end of January, beginning of February).
After Diablo, it was back to Buenos Aires with a few days at the Palermo House hostel (cheap stay but not recommended, dirtay dirtayness). Notable activities in BA - our two day search for an affordable pool, as in not the US$70 Hilton pool pass, to relieve us of the stifling summer heat (a success in the end, closeish to Club de Amigos and alto Palermo, cant remember the name), my walking shoe hunt that ended with buying a purple converse-like oddity of a pair, and an afternoon showing of Charlie Wilsons War (movies on lazy days in foreign countries are not to be underestimated). At this point BA is beginning to feel more like a homey recharge spot, and it feels good to spend a few days just hanging around.
Next up, Mendoza. The Napa of Argentina, Mendoza is known especially for churning out that fine wine that is the Malbec. Definitely a neat little town, with a lot of different ways to spend your time there. If I had to do it again, I might have tried to stay in a little hostel/B&B type thing further out of town and closer to the various vineyards. As it was, we ended up in a really nice place in town by the bus station called Hostel Lao, with a pool and good common areas. Most of the 3 days were spent wandering around town, exploring the huge city park, drinking wine, etc. We took one day to do a bike tour of the vineyards, hopped on a city bus across the street from Lao, took it about 30 minutes out and rented some bikes with a map for about 10 bucks. After touring a chocolate/liquor company and one or two vineyards, we stopped for a tabla lunch, basically a big board of cheeses, breads, prosciutto, olives, tapenade, etc. Yum. The last stop was a Frenchman who moved to Mendoza with his wife to start their own vineyard, without any prior knowledge, and there they were doing their thing. We enjoyed this stop the most, as the owner was very friendly, really informative and also quite generous with his pours :) As we sat there talking to him, we heard a bang on his roof. Odd. Then another. Before we knew it, hail up to the size of ping pong balls was raining down from the sky. As they raced to move their cars under cover, we stayed under the cover of the tasting room. After less than 5 minutes the hail stopped and the wife came back with a report - she estimated that 20% of the grape crop was lost to the hail. And while this seemed like a huge deal to all of us, the owner just shrugged his shoulders in a what-can-you-do motion. Amazing the damage just a few minutes can do. To sum it up, we learned that and also one more lesson in Mendoza - always double check the date, no matter what the computer says, when scheduling bus tickets online. We showed up for our bus to Salta one day early, and had to book one more night in another hostel (Chimbas hostel, very nice) before we could get out of town. Woops. Live and learn.
And then theres Salta, where we spent 2 nights. Now Salta is a very pretty town, great for walking, the HI Backpackers Soul hostel had a lot of activities and it certainly had potential day excursion wise, we were thinking paragliding. But all I can really relate about Salta is getting our visas together for Bolivia, and the big yellow fever do-we-have-it-or-not vaccination fiasco (both ended up getting ours, and free to top it off). The rest of the time I was sick in bed with a mystery stomachache, which I still havent really figured out, and then Dave had a bad reaction to his vaccine that laid him up with a fever towards the end of our time in Salta and into the night we spent at a hotel in Argentina at the border of Bolivia. So Salta my dear, I never knew ye. Sorry. Moving on.
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Argentina (Bariloche, BA) and Uruguay (Colonia)
Its Superbowl Sunday, and Im sitting in a hostel in Punta del Diablo, waiting until its time to board a bus (and then a ferry) to take me back to Buenos Aires. In the meantime, some recap of the past two weeks. And yes, a good bit of my entries now and prob in the future will be about food, as anybody who knows me knows how way worthwhile I consider a great glass of wine or a noteworthy meal. Not to mention, anybody can find out the best sights to see in any city. Theres little point to summarizing the buildings/ parks/ museums/ monuments that I see. The best places to eat/ sleep/ hang out on the other hand, not so obvious.
I left off last in Bariloche, were I spent about 3 nights. The Nomad hostel worked out great, cheap and easy and lowkey. My final impression was that the town is beautiful (those views) and lively and clearly has a grip of outdoorsy opportunities everywhere, mostly on the outskirts. I'd say if I ever end up there again (which I probably will, since its kind of the gateway en route to Argentine Patagonia, and I def plan on heading south one day) Id have camping gear and make for one of the smaller, more mellow towns outside it. More affordable and surrounded by mountains and lakes. Perfect.
Highlight in Bariloche - Cerveceria Blest. A slow day in Bariloche led us to hop on a bus for 40 minutes to a brew pub outside of Bariloche. Gorgeous sunny day, great little cottagey pub with outdoor seating, mountains and blue sky, taster trays and pitchers of beer. Pretty much the ideal way to spend a lazy afternoon. Not to mention, the pretzels. I wont attempt to explain the glory that was the pretzel, which could hardly even exist in the pretzel category, as it was clearly so beyond that. Basically a small, salty, doughy yet also crusty, warm out of the oven little bite of heaven. Almost made me and my friends cry. Mustard had no place on that sacred plate. It was simply marvelous. Ill say no more.
Next stop, BA, with an hour pause in Mar del Plata between buses. Mar del Plata = disaster. Absolute maddness, and not in a good way. It was ugly and shoulder-to-shoulder crowded and just generally not a place that I could ever be okay with (an hour was too long), let alone vacation in. Blah.
Spent another few days in BA, just hanging out, walking around town, doing the hostel thing. Now like I said, good food is a great thing, and BA holds the honors in terms of great cuisine. Had an absolutely stellar, beyond describable dinner with a friend from Giramondo hostel at La Cabrera in Palermo (point one for lonely planet, though everyone seems to know about it anyways). Started with a Malbec on special (Ux..something?). 35 pesos for a bottle. And way good. Then salad. Fresh, great. Then shared a steak. But not just any steak. Ridiculous good rib-eye, and Im not even a big steak fan. And than the kicker, like twelve little side dishes of all sorts of different things to eat, either on or just with the steak. Little salsas and salads and whatever else. And then a free glass of champagne, and why not. We topped it off with coffee and called it a night. All in all, so worth the 15-20 bucks a person. Expensive for BA, not even close to unreasonable for what anyone might pay for that in the states. El Gaucho eat your heart out.
Another great food find exploring with another hostel friend - Sanjuaninos in Recoleta. Little hole in the wall, really traditional restaurant. Small hams hanging from the ceiling, that kind of thing. Lentils with chorizo and empanadas and homemade egg noodles with bolognese and vino tinto. Beyond good. And beyond cheap, we shared everything.
After several days in BA, I headed to Uruguay via the Buquebus high-speed ferry. Now Ive heard great things about Uruguay, what an underappreciated place it is and often skipped or overlooked by travelers who just dont know better. But I have to say I was not impressed with Colonia and Montevideo. Not unhappy, just unimpressed. Which I actually found surprising - Colonia is supposed to be a quaint colonial city on the water and Montevideo is supposedly a lively mini-BA. And yeah, Colonia was def a pretty place, it had some wonderful squares that got busy at night with outdoor seating in the plazas and people walking around. But during the day, there wasnt much to see. I went on a run my first morning there and looked forward to the sights. But there just wasnt much happening, and the old stone buildings that were more lit and lively at night were quiet and eh during the day. All in all, just fine for a day and a night, but then its time to move on. And so I did, on to Montevideo (and to be continued).
I left off last in Bariloche, were I spent about 3 nights. The Nomad hostel worked out great, cheap and easy and lowkey. My final impression was that the town is beautiful (those views) and lively and clearly has a grip of outdoorsy opportunities everywhere, mostly on the outskirts. I'd say if I ever end up there again (which I probably will, since its kind of the gateway en route to Argentine Patagonia, and I def plan on heading south one day) Id have camping gear and make for one of the smaller, more mellow towns outside it. More affordable and surrounded by mountains and lakes. Perfect.
Highlight in Bariloche - Cerveceria Blest. A slow day in Bariloche led us to hop on a bus for 40 minutes to a brew pub outside of Bariloche. Gorgeous sunny day, great little cottagey pub with outdoor seating, mountains and blue sky, taster trays and pitchers of beer. Pretty much the ideal way to spend a lazy afternoon. Not to mention, the pretzels. I wont attempt to explain the glory that was the pretzel, which could hardly even exist in the pretzel category, as it was clearly so beyond that. Basically a small, salty, doughy yet also crusty, warm out of the oven little bite of heaven. Almost made me and my friends cry. Mustard had no place on that sacred plate. It was simply marvelous. Ill say no more.
Next stop, BA, with an hour pause in Mar del Plata between buses. Mar del Plata = disaster. Absolute maddness, and not in a good way. It was ugly and shoulder-to-shoulder crowded and just generally not a place that I could ever be okay with (an hour was too long), let alone vacation in. Blah.
Spent another few days in BA, just hanging out, walking around town, doing the hostel thing. Now like I said, good food is a great thing, and BA holds the honors in terms of great cuisine. Had an absolutely stellar, beyond describable dinner with a friend from Giramondo hostel at La Cabrera in Palermo (point one for lonely planet, though everyone seems to know about it anyways). Started with a Malbec on special (Ux..something?). 35 pesos for a bottle. And way good. Then salad. Fresh, great. Then shared a steak. But not just any steak. Ridiculous good rib-eye, and Im not even a big steak fan. And than the kicker, like twelve little side dishes of all sorts of different things to eat, either on or just with the steak. Little salsas and salads and whatever else. And then a free glass of champagne, and why not. We topped it off with coffee and called it a night. All in all, so worth the 15-20 bucks a person. Expensive for BA, not even close to unreasonable for what anyone might pay for that in the states. El Gaucho eat your heart out.
Another great food find exploring with another hostel friend - Sanjuaninos in Recoleta. Little hole in the wall, really traditional restaurant. Small hams hanging from the ceiling, that kind of thing. Lentils with chorizo and empanadas and homemade egg noodles with bolognese and vino tinto. Beyond good. And beyond cheap, we shared everything.
After several days in BA, I headed to Uruguay via the Buquebus high-speed ferry. Now Ive heard great things about Uruguay, what an underappreciated place it is and often skipped or overlooked by travelers who just dont know better. But I have to say I was not impressed with Colonia and Montevideo. Not unhappy, just unimpressed. Which I actually found surprising - Colonia is supposed to be a quaint colonial city on the water and Montevideo is supposedly a lively mini-BA. And yeah, Colonia was def a pretty place, it had some wonderful squares that got busy at night with outdoor seating in the plazas and people walking around. But during the day, there wasnt much to see. I went on a run my first morning there and looked forward to the sights. But there just wasnt much happening, and the old stone buildings that were more lit and lively at night were quiet and eh during the day. All in all, just fine for a day and a night, but then its time to move on. And so I did, on to Montevideo (and to be continued).
Sunday, 20 January 2008
Chile (Pucón, Valdivia) and Argentina (Bariloche)
So its been a long time since my last post (according to a few impatient friends and a miffed pair of parents). In that spirit, this post might be a doozy. But I have yet to buy a travel journal, dont really want to carry it around, so this is as much for me to keep track of my trip as it is for everyone else. As always, skimming for the gist is entirely acceptable and possibly encouraged.
I ended up heading to Pucón after Pichilemu, a beautful mountain town. Very touristy (for a reason) and again expensive, but you cant deny that the place is good looking. Contrary to original post-Pichilemu plan, I was still with the Santa Cruzans. Its not my style to hitch on to a group for too long, so I was planning to part ways almost on priniciple. But we were all still getting along really well, and I would have had to not go to where I actually wanted to go in order to act like I was doing my own thing. Which is lame. So together we went.
In Pucón we had a great find, a little hostel run by a family. Slightly run down but pretty packed with all of the lucky backpackers that managed to find it. It was at least half the price of all the places in town that were charging up the wazoo for high season. So instead of paying $14-20, we only paid $7 a night. On top of that, we did the supermarket thing for all of our food needs and took advantage of the outside kitchen (rustic? sure).
Major Pucón activity - climbing the active volcano Villarica. For a little over $60 bucks (best deal we could find from the many excursion companies lining the streets, damn high season) they gave us all our gear - boots, packs, waterproof outwear, helmets, crampons, ice ax, etc. - and took us up to the steaming volcano via van. At the bottom we took a chair lift partway past some volcanic-rock dirt hill, then hiked up the snowy/icy slope to the top. The bad part: there were a million other groups doing the same thing, which can def take away from the experience. The good part: our guide had a major fire under his ass (suspicious at first but kind of fun in the end)and refused to wait behind other groups, so we just pushed past them or he carved out a separate path. We made it to the top in 3 hours, the norm is 3.5 to 4.5 hours. Our guide was psyched that we one made it to the top so quick, meaning we got to spend more time hanging out and enjoying the view, and two didnt have anyone from the group turn back on the way, which I guess is pretty common. To get down the volcano, we slid on our asses with our ice picks as brakes all the way down, which only took about an hour. All in all, it prob wouldnt have been a big deal for people accustomed to mountaineering, but for me it felt like a nice accomplishment and the view was stellar to boot.
Phew. Ok, moving on. After two nights in Pucón, I split off from the group and headed to Valdivia for a day and night. Id read good things about the city, hip and fun and studenty or whatever, but I didnt fall in love. I had a day to kill so I randomly took a city bus out of town to a beach town called Niebla that was supposed to have forts or something around the beach. I think I missed the whole point of that, I got dropped off at some isolated spot and ending up finding a screaming-kid ridden local beach (quite common, kids everywhere here) where I spent a few hours laying out. Not pretty, just fine. But the day got better when I headed back to town and spent the night out at a packed karaoke bar with a big group of chileans from the hostel, good fun.
The next day I caught an early bus to Bariloche, crossing the border from Chile back to Argentina. And once again, hello high season. Bariloche is a prime city for both winter skiing and summer outdoors, so its packed. I went 2 hours yesterday before I found a hostel, spent walking from the bus station into town and then wandering from hostel to hostel looking for an open bed. Way busy, tons of people. But finally had some good luck with a bed for a night, and then found another early this morning to tide me over for a few days at Nomad Backpackers Hostel on calle Salta, where theres a good collection of hostels for the wandering backpacker. Now I can relax, finally, and figure out what this place is all about.
I ended up heading to Pucón after Pichilemu, a beautful mountain town. Very touristy (for a reason) and again expensive, but you cant deny that the place is good looking. Contrary to original post-Pichilemu plan, I was still with the Santa Cruzans. Its not my style to hitch on to a group for too long, so I was planning to part ways almost on priniciple. But we were all still getting along really well, and I would have had to not go to where I actually wanted to go in order to act like I was doing my own thing. Which is lame. So together we went.
In Pucón we had a great find, a little hostel run by a family. Slightly run down but pretty packed with all of the lucky backpackers that managed to find it. It was at least half the price of all the places in town that were charging up the wazoo for high season. So instead of paying $14-20, we only paid $7 a night. On top of that, we did the supermarket thing for all of our food needs and took advantage of the outside kitchen (rustic? sure).
Major Pucón activity - climbing the active volcano Villarica. For a little over $60 bucks (best deal we could find from the many excursion companies lining the streets, damn high season) they gave us all our gear - boots, packs, waterproof outwear, helmets, crampons, ice ax, etc. - and took us up to the steaming volcano via van. At the bottom we took a chair lift partway past some volcanic-rock dirt hill, then hiked up the snowy/icy slope to the top. The bad part: there were a million other groups doing the same thing, which can def take away from the experience. The good part: our guide had a major fire under his ass (suspicious at first but kind of fun in the end)and refused to wait behind other groups, so we just pushed past them or he carved out a separate path. We made it to the top in 3 hours, the norm is 3.5 to 4.5 hours. Our guide was psyched that we one made it to the top so quick, meaning we got to spend more time hanging out and enjoying the view, and two didnt have anyone from the group turn back on the way, which I guess is pretty common. To get down the volcano, we slid on our asses with our ice picks as brakes all the way down, which only took about an hour. All in all, it prob wouldnt have been a big deal for people accustomed to mountaineering, but for me it felt like a nice accomplishment and the view was stellar to boot.
Phew. Ok, moving on. After two nights in Pucón, I split off from the group and headed to Valdivia for a day and night. Id read good things about the city, hip and fun and studenty or whatever, but I didnt fall in love. I had a day to kill so I randomly took a city bus out of town to a beach town called Niebla that was supposed to have forts or something around the beach. I think I missed the whole point of that, I got dropped off at some isolated spot and ending up finding a screaming-kid ridden local beach (quite common, kids everywhere here) where I spent a few hours laying out. Not pretty, just fine. But the day got better when I headed back to town and spent the night out at a packed karaoke bar with a big group of chileans from the hostel, good fun.
The next day I caught an early bus to Bariloche, crossing the border from Chile back to Argentina. And once again, hello high season. Bariloche is a prime city for both winter skiing and summer outdoors, so its packed. I went 2 hours yesterday before I found a hostel, spent walking from the bus station into town and then wandering from hostel to hostel looking for an open bed. Way busy, tons of people. But finally had some good luck with a bed for a night, and then found another early this morning to tide me over for a few days at Nomad Backpackers Hostel on calle Salta, where theres a good collection of hostels for the wandering backpacker. Now I can relax, finally, and figure out what this place is all about.
Monday, 14 January 2008
Chile (Santiago and Pichilemu)
Today is day 11 of the great adventure that is my life (tongue in cheek here, always). Heavy. Eggy. Epic. Minor. This is a tribute to the California crew that Im traveling with, and their weird ass surfer slang that throws me every time.
So back up a few days. Santiago was a good city to spend a few days in, very cosmopolitan, kinda spendy though (actually Chile in general is pretty costly compared to say argentina or peru). The hostel had a really good vibe to it, a big pool outside that everyone would crash around after their afternoon excursions. Always something going on. I split with the Fin and ended up doing the city with a guy Ryan from Maine and a girl Fiona, or Fi, from England. One thing about Fi - shes already spent 5 months working her way South starting in Mexico. Shes got another month to go, prob round Arg and Patagonia. Then shes off to Australia and then India for 6 more months. The girls out of her mind. But very sweet and we all got along very well.
After a couple nights in Santiago, I met Brinn, Hayes and Toby from Santa Cruz, and we headed to Pichilemu, a little coastal town renowned for its surfing, especially at Punta de lobos a few miles out of town. Weve been here 4 nights already, might be 5, its the kind of town that you could settle into and lose months in (weve met a lot of young people that have done just that). Ive certainly considered it. Weve done some horsebackriding (legit healthy horses, not sad sick overworked horses), rented bikes to ride to Punta lobos, and regular lunch visits at this one storefront for churrasco italiano sandwiches, meat avocado and tomato, all really fresh and generally awesome. Otherwise generally lazy and content. My original intention was to at least take a surf lesson or two, give it a go, but theres so many surfers anyway that i would feel completely out of my element. Plus the waters wetsuit-cold and i dont want to put the money toward gear rental. With that idea out of my way, so far so good. Next up? Pucon? Elsewhere? Not sure.
So back up a few days. Santiago was a good city to spend a few days in, very cosmopolitan, kinda spendy though (actually Chile in general is pretty costly compared to say argentina or peru). The hostel had a really good vibe to it, a big pool outside that everyone would crash around after their afternoon excursions. Always something going on. I split with the Fin and ended up doing the city with a guy Ryan from Maine and a girl Fiona, or Fi, from England. One thing about Fi - shes already spent 5 months working her way South starting in Mexico. Shes got another month to go, prob round Arg and Patagonia. Then shes off to Australia and then India for 6 more months. The girls out of her mind. But very sweet and we all got along very well.
After a couple nights in Santiago, I met Brinn, Hayes and Toby from Santa Cruz, and we headed to Pichilemu, a little coastal town renowned for its surfing, especially at Punta de lobos a few miles out of town. Weve been here 4 nights already, might be 5, its the kind of town that you could settle into and lose months in (weve met a lot of young people that have done just that). Ive certainly considered it. Weve done some horsebackriding (legit healthy horses, not sad sick overworked horses), rented bikes to ride to Punta lobos, and regular lunch visits at this one storefront for churrasco italiano sandwiches, meat avocado and tomato, all really fresh and generally awesome. Otherwise generally lazy and content. My original intention was to at least take a surf lesson or two, give it a go, but theres so many surfers anyway that i would feel completely out of my element. Plus the waters wetsuit-cold and i dont want to put the money toward gear rental. With that idea out of my way, so far so good. Next up? Pucon? Elsewhere? Not sure.
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