So the appartment is amazing... just perfect. Flo and I made ourselves at home very quickly and spent most of the day just chilling out. We had a lovely supper with Alice's ex boyfriend Alejo. I just need to explain that Al lived here in BA 5years ago for a year, so knows the city and its people well. It was a very pleasent evening and I learnt a bit about Eva Peron and Argentine politics - I am afraid to say I havent been all that good at getting much history/politics in any of the countries we have been to, so I went to bed feeling satisfied that I had learnt something new. Unfortunately - as per usual - I can't remember what exactly I had learnt other than Eva Peron was a radio actress who married the president. But thats enough!
The next day we made our way to the graveyard where my new BFF Eva was buried, along with many other rich Argentine families. This has got to be the coolest (in a rather sadistic sort of way) graveyard I have been to. They have the most ridiculous tombs built for the various families and one of them looked like a mini Canterbury Cathedral. Crazy. The only thing is, its too bloody hot to do anything and just hanging out in the cemetry made us all feel lethargic and in need of a lie down. Instead of lying down we made our way to Al's friend Carisa's house so I could meet her and her husband and cute little boy and for Flo to see them again after a few years. They were just lovely.
Then we realised that we had invited people over for supper tomorrow night for Christmas - as here they celebrate it on Christmas Eve - and hastily made our way to the too-busy-for-my-liking jumbo supermarket. Here we manically ran around picking out the bits and bobs that I needed to make for the lasagne. Finally got home to find that the cooking equipment in the appartment wasn't exactly sufficient and I started to panic! The pan wasnt even the size of my head but I managed to make two lasagnes (one of which I burnt... bugger).
The boys that we had met in Colombia: Dean, Geoff and George came about 8ish with two of their friends Cazz and Nick. We all had a fun dinner with games and then made our way to their hostel at 2am, where the bus was picking us up to take us to Pacha - where we would be dancing the night away. It was an amazing club and we had a great time. The best Christmas morning ever - dancing on the roof watching the sunrise - awesome. We didnt get to bed till 11am.
We then spent the day recovering and then up at 6am on Boxing Day morning to make out way to Punta Del Este in Uruguay for some beach time... yehaa!
Thursday 30 December 2010
Wednesday 29 December 2010
San Pedro
Apologies for the delay...
So at the end of the salt flats tour we got the SLOWEST bus in the history of bus rides to San Pedro. A really dinky little town, that in my opinion had been seriously tourist-erised, but a really nice break from intense Bolivia!! We had booked ourselves into a sweet little hostel where we spent most of the time just chilling out together and recovering from Bolivia. We ate some lovely food (lots of scrummy restaurants) but expensive! In fact Chile has been a bit of a shock to the old bank balance in general.
I had been told that there were lots of things to do in SP so we went to discover what was avaliable... we decided on a FIVE HOUR (why?!) Horseride to the Valle de Luna (Valley of the Sun). It was amazing, and although I couldnt walk the next day, it was a great adventure. Here we were galloping through the desert with yet more scenery and not one more person in sight. Perfect.
Then when we arrived we made our way on the metro to the house we were staying. I might add I was rather impressed with the using of metro thing, how native!
We were staying with the same family flo stayed with on her gap year. I was slighty nervous about it as there seemed to be millions of them: Miguel and Carolina the parents Monica the maid and her granddaughter martina then the children... Lucas, juan Pablo, Fran, sole, camila and ignacio - I had to draw a spider diagram!!
They were such a lovely welcoming family and by day 3 it felt like a second home, I can see why flo wanted to go back... We ended up staying there longer than planed and 5 days later we finally made our way out of there. I am afraid to say we didn't do all that much apart from drink! Apparently that is all they do (dad- you'd love it). I met so many great people, they were extremely friendly.
The best day for me was going to the vineyard Caliterra. Juan Pablo drove us there, a 2.5 hour journey south of Santiago. It was stunning, with the vineyard stretching all the way into the mountains. When we arrived they had lunch ready for us, which was delicious. Then we went for a ride around the vineyard and then onto the wine tasting. Apparently I'm not so good at the whole spitting out thing and found myself a little tipsy - but all good fun. We also spent a day at viña - which is THE beach to go to I hear. As I say other than that it was piscolas (pisco and coke) and dancing for us.
We got ourselves a flight with THE WORST airline ever and eventually made it to Buenos Aries where Alice was waiting for us in a rented appartment.... oh yes an appartment - ooooog the excitement!
So at the end of the salt flats tour we got the SLOWEST bus in the history of bus rides to San Pedro. A really dinky little town, that in my opinion had been seriously tourist-erised, but a really nice break from intense Bolivia!! We had booked ourselves into a sweet little hostel where we spent most of the time just chilling out together and recovering from Bolivia. We ate some lovely food (lots of scrummy restaurants) but expensive! In fact Chile has been a bit of a shock to the old bank balance in general.
I had been told that there were lots of things to do in SP so we went to discover what was avaliable... we decided on a FIVE HOUR (why?!) Horseride to the Valle de Luna (Valley of the Sun). It was amazing, and although I couldnt walk the next day, it was a great adventure. Here we were galloping through the desert with yet more scenery and not one more person in sight. Perfect.
After a few days we decided to take the 24hr bus to Santiago - which turned out to better than anticipated. Naturally we befriended the bus drivers who occassionally checked up on us, came for chats and put English dvds on... Sweet!
Then when we arrived we made our way on the metro to the house we were staying. I might add I was rather impressed with the using of metro thing, how native!
We were staying with the same family flo stayed with on her gap year. I was slighty nervous about it as there seemed to be millions of them: Miguel and Carolina the parents Monica the maid and her granddaughter martina then the children... Lucas, juan Pablo, Fran, sole, camila and ignacio - I had to draw a spider diagram!!
They were such a lovely welcoming family and by day 3 it felt like a second home, I can see why flo wanted to go back... We ended up staying there longer than planed and 5 days later we finally made our way out of there. I am afraid to say we didn't do all that much apart from drink! Apparently that is all they do (dad- you'd love it). I met so many great people, they were extremely friendly.
The best day for me was going to the vineyard Caliterra. Juan Pablo drove us there, a 2.5 hour journey south of Santiago. It was stunning, with the vineyard stretching all the way into the mountains. When we arrived they had lunch ready for us, which was delicious. Then we went for a ride around the vineyard and then onto the wine tasting. Apparently I'm not so good at the whole spitting out thing and found myself a little tipsy - but all good fun. We also spent a day at viña - which is THE beach to go to I hear. As I say other than that it was piscolas (pisco and coke) and dancing for us.
We got ourselves a flight with THE WORST airline ever and eventually made it to Buenos Aries where Alice was waiting for us in a rented appartment.... oh yes an appartment - ooooog the excitement!
Thursday 16 December 2010
Salt Flats
So after a night in Wild Rover (again! That place became a second home) we spent our last afternoon in La Paz (relief) and then onto our 12hr bus to Uyuni. On the bus we met two guys Matt and Larry, who it turns out, shared a Hostel with Alice in Cuzco! Small travelling world.
Anyway half the journey was ok, but the rest on the bumpiest desert dust track ever. We certainly have had our fare share of bumpy rides. Arrive at 7am and wait until 10.30 for our tour to begin. Knackered, but what a day!
Get into our 4x4 which would be our home for the next 3 days and take one look at goup, heart sinks. 2 Bolivianas and 2 German girls that didnt appear to be all that exciting. First impressions turned out to be right bar the old boliviana, Blanca (63, ok not THAT old, haha) who turned out to be a hoot! Anyway, straight onto the salt flats. First stop the entrance, where there was a memorial for 13 people who had died in an accident in 2008. Wouldn´t say it was the most inspiring of starts, but upon seeing the flats, all scared thoughts were dismissed and taken over with WOW. One of the craziest things I have ever seen. A humungus expanse of salt, probably doesnt sound that great but its pretty cool to see. Bolivia never ceases to amaze with its variety of scenery.
So today we did the whole of the flats, stopping for lunch at this crazy island filled with tonnes of cactus. They seem like random lumps of rock that have come from nowhere, but when you remember it was a lake it doesnt seem so random. The coolest part is when you are driving along they look like they are floating in the distance.
After lunch we continued through the flats stopping off to take some crazy photos...
Its the BEST place to take photos!! It was such a surreal experience, it had rained the night before and there was a layer of water on the salt, but it looked like the water was really deep and we were driving through a lake...
A lake with mountains, floating islands and a volcanoe on the horizon. Madness. Then suddenly the salt flats end and the scenery turns to that of Arizona, dry mountains with cactus. But it really just ends out of nowhere, the back of the 4x4 is on the flats and the front in Arizona?! Odd. Ok not really arizona, although that would have been amazing- Hi Rob!
Then to camp 1 (A Salt Hotel) for the night. Here I realise I havent been to the loo loo since I finished my antibiotics in Isla Del Sol! F***. So I tell our new Boliviana friend Blanca about my loo loo trials and tribulations, and she trots off to the kitchen and comes back with the rankest smelling tea EVER. It turns out they have this plant that they put in hot water to make tea and it helps you poo... 2 days later I could do nothing but!!! A relief, but not the most convenient time to be needing the loo every half an hour.
I wont give you a blow by blow account of the trip but all I will say is that it involved a lot of amazing views and scenery (out comes the white baseball cap and bumbag!) which I wouldnt want to try to explain... But I saw flamingos, lagoons, volcanoes, rocks, rocks and more rocks all in different shapes and sizes, hot springs, deserts, gaysiers (whatever they are) and the highest we got was 5000ft above sea level (yuck).
It really was beautiful and amazing, and that means something coming from someone whos not all that into views and stuff. It is def a must-see-before-dying kind of thang, im sure fellow salt flatters would agree.
We ended on the border between Chile and Bolivia and waited for a bus to take us to San Pedro de Atacama...
Anyway half the journey was ok, but the rest on the bumpiest desert dust track ever. We certainly have had our fare share of bumpy rides. Arrive at 7am and wait until 10.30 for our tour to begin. Knackered, but what a day!
Get into our 4x4 which would be our home for the next 3 days and take one look at goup, heart sinks. 2 Bolivianas and 2 German girls that didnt appear to be all that exciting. First impressions turned out to be right bar the old boliviana, Blanca (63, ok not THAT old, haha) who turned out to be a hoot! Anyway, straight onto the salt flats. First stop the entrance, where there was a memorial for 13 people who had died in an accident in 2008. Wouldn´t say it was the most inspiring of starts, but upon seeing the flats, all scared thoughts were dismissed and taken over with WOW. One of the craziest things I have ever seen. A humungus expanse of salt, probably doesnt sound that great but its pretty cool to see. Bolivia never ceases to amaze with its variety of scenery.
So today we did the whole of the flats, stopping for lunch at this crazy island filled with tonnes of cactus. They seem like random lumps of rock that have come from nowhere, but when you remember it was a lake it doesnt seem so random. The coolest part is when you are driving along they look like they are floating in the distance.
After lunch we continued through the flats stopping off to take some crazy photos...
Its the BEST place to take photos!! It was such a surreal experience, it had rained the night before and there was a layer of water on the salt, but it looked like the water was really deep and we were driving through a lake...
A lake with mountains, floating islands and a volcanoe on the horizon. Madness. Then suddenly the salt flats end and the scenery turns to that of Arizona, dry mountains with cactus. But it really just ends out of nowhere, the back of the 4x4 is on the flats and the front in Arizona?! Odd. Ok not really arizona, although that would have been amazing- Hi Rob!
Then to camp 1 (A Salt Hotel) for the night. Here I realise I havent been to the loo loo since I finished my antibiotics in Isla Del Sol! F***. So I tell our new Boliviana friend Blanca about my loo loo trials and tribulations, and she trots off to the kitchen and comes back with the rankest smelling tea EVER. It turns out they have this plant that they put in hot water to make tea and it helps you poo... 2 days later I could do nothing but!!! A relief, but not the most convenient time to be needing the loo every half an hour.
I wont give you a blow by blow account of the trip but all I will say is that it involved a lot of amazing views and scenery (out comes the white baseball cap and bumbag!) which I wouldnt want to try to explain... But I saw flamingos, lagoons, volcanoes, rocks, rocks and more rocks all in different shapes and sizes, hot springs, deserts, gaysiers (whatever they are) and the highest we got was 5000ft above sea level (yuck).
It really was beautiful and amazing, and that means something coming from someone whos not all that into views and stuff. It is def a must-see-before-dying kind of thang, im sure fellow salt flatters would agree.
We ended on the border between Chile and Bolivia and waited for a bus to take us to San Pedro de Atacama...
Isla Del Sol
As you can all probably gather, I am somewhat behind now, this can be told by the fact that I have had regular bowel movement for about a week now, so I really must catch up...
So when I was ready to brave a 4hr bus ride sin toilet, F and I made our way from La Paz to Copacabana (by Lake Titicaca). Here we stayed in the "Splurge" section of the Bible (aka The Lonely Planet) which was lovely, I got the exchange rate\price wrong, turned out it was a bit more of a splurge than I had anticipated, but sod it I just come out of hospital innit?
Had a wonderful time, a nice night and onto Isla Del Sol the next day. Just super. Lovely views, slow boat ride over, made it. Great. Looked up... er.... what now? There were like 3 buildings and the bloody bible said it was a great place to go and stay the night?! So there we were looking pretty stupid with our overnight bags...
SO taking one for the team, I made my way to the gigantic map of the Island and made some friends: Phil, Gavin and Jhoan and followed them up some rather similar looking lost-city-style-steps. 4hrs or so later, (please note: these steps were at 4,000 ft of bloody altitude) we had made it to the first town and all decided pretty rapido we were going NO further! So we found a nice little hostel owned by a not so little boliviana. WOWZA our bedroom had the most fantastic view of the lake, you would pay hundereds for a view like that at home and it cost us a fiver, bargain! Bloody love Bolivia.
With what little breath we had recovered, that evening we somehow managed to walk to the top of the Isla and watch the sun set. So... being a young smith, views dont fascinate me much, infact not at all. I am not a huge fan of those ¨types¨ you know with the bizzarely flat baseball caps, binoculars and hiking boots that get ¨blown away¨ by scenery and wont bloody shut up about it (you meet many of these as a traveller)
"Oh look Julie, just look at that, look at that view"... bla bla, its just hills love?!
But something changed in me that day and I turned against my better judgement. The views were truly blowee awayee, with the HUGE lake infront of you and snow capped mountains that looked like they were floating behind in the distance. Poor florence thought I had turned into a grandmother, and I am sure was rather fed up with me saying "just look at that, florence, just look at that!" -SHUT UP BECKY... but really honestly, if youd seen them....
Id just like to add, there is something about the altitude. Cant really put my finger on it, but what with all the lack of oxygen to the brain im surprised I didnt buy a bumbag, white baseball cap and hiking boots up the top of that hill?! Thankfully I soon got over my tourist moment and back to the semi-normal human being that I am...
Dinner. Bed. Wake up. Get back on boat back to Copacabana. Back to splurge... why not? Lazing around. Dinner with Phil and Gavin. Who we thought they were about 35ish turns out Phil was 51?! and Gav 47?! Nice company, funny evening. Back to La Paz tomorrow to get oursleves on The Salt Flats tour to San Pedro...
So when I was ready to brave a 4hr bus ride sin toilet, F and I made our way from La Paz to Copacabana (by Lake Titicaca). Here we stayed in the "Splurge" section of the Bible (aka The Lonely Planet) which was lovely, I got the exchange rate\price wrong, turned out it was a bit more of a splurge than I had anticipated, but sod it I just come out of hospital innit?
Had a wonderful time, a nice night and onto Isla Del Sol the next day. Just super. Lovely views, slow boat ride over, made it. Great. Looked up... er.... what now? There were like 3 buildings and the bloody bible said it was a great place to go and stay the night?! So there we were looking pretty stupid with our overnight bags...
SO taking one for the team, I made my way to the gigantic map of the Island and made some friends: Phil, Gavin and Jhoan and followed them up some rather similar looking lost-city-style-steps. 4hrs or so later, (please note: these steps were at 4,000 ft of bloody altitude) we had made it to the first town and all decided pretty rapido we were going NO further! So we found a nice little hostel owned by a not so little boliviana. WOWZA our bedroom had the most fantastic view of the lake, you would pay hundereds for a view like that at home and it cost us a fiver, bargain! Bloody love Bolivia.
With what little breath we had recovered, that evening we somehow managed to walk to the top of the Isla and watch the sun set. So... being a young smith, views dont fascinate me much, infact not at all. I am not a huge fan of those ¨types¨ you know with the bizzarely flat baseball caps, binoculars and hiking boots that get ¨blown away¨ by scenery and wont bloody shut up about it (you meet many of these as a traveller)
"Oh look Julie, just look at that, look at that view"... bla bla, its just hills love?!
But something changed in me that day and I turned against my better judgement. The views were truly blowee awayee, with the HUGE lake infront of you and snow capped mountains that looked like they were floating behind in the distance. Poor florence thought I had turned into a grandmother, and I am sure was rather fed up with me saying "just look at that, florence, just look at that!" -SHUT UP BECKY... but really honestly, if youd seen them....
Id just like to add, there is something about the altitude. Cant really put my finger on it, but what with all the lack of oxygen to the brain im surprised I didnt buy a bumbag, white baseball cap and hiking boots up the top of that hill?! Thankfully I soon got over my tourist moment and back to the semi-normal human being that I am...
Dinner. Bed. Wake up. Get back on boat back to Copacabana. Back to splurge... why not? Lazing around. Dinner with Phil and Gavin. Who we thought they were about 35ish turns out Phil was 51?! and Gav 47?! Nice company, funny evening. Back to La Paz tomorrow to get oursleves on The Salt Flats tour to San Pedro...
Saturday 11 December 2010
Hospital
This blog contains scenes of graphic imagery, not for the faint hearted. If you read on, you may not be able to look at me in the same way again so read on at your own peril!
So we got back to Rurre after our intrepid pampas tour and had our first shower in a week! Euk. Had a nice afternoon/evening. We met up with crazy Sue and her group for some drinks and dinner and off to bed. Woke up and realised it had now been a week since loo loo!
After breakfast in a delicious French patisserie (random) and a laxative later, all was not well with my stomach. Thank goodness we had opted for the 45min plane journey rather than the 18hr plus bus journey. Having said that, the 18 seater plane did little for my nerves, nor stomach as we flew THROUGH the moutains rather than over them.
Finally we landed in La Paz, F & I, Sue and Cato (from Sues group) made our way to a hotel as a treat, seeing as I wasnt in a good state and they were pretty knackered from the tour. A nice bedroom for 4 with a TV! F and I spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and then F,S and C went out for dinner. This was when I realised all was not well (clue being I rang mum and dad). Dad told me to pop another laxative and mum, to call the doctor. I did both. The doctor told me I had an intestine infection (looking pretty preggers at this point) and it was necessary to go to hospital. WHAT? OK don´t freak out Becky, all part of the experience. Please bear in mind the only times I have been in hospital for myself was 1. When I was born and 2. When I twisted my ankle (mentioned in previous blog). Instead of freaking out I packed myself an over night bag and in that time, thankfully, F returned - so she came to hospital with me. By this point I was in so much pain that I couldnt even sit down in the car!
15mins later we arrived. Straight into one of those bum-showing-hospital-garments (yuck), in a wheel chair, down to be x-rayed and first blood test. No hanging around, back upstairs and the first of many many drips shoved into my left wrist (2 weeks on, its still bruised). By this point I feel like I am in ER! A flippin´drip, I only need a poo...? The Doc comes in and shows me the xray. Oh dear. My intestine is really quite swollen and there was a lot of trapped gas. On the upside I have a pretty hot spine and hip bone! Other than that I realise that I really am not well.
A nurse comes in, thinking she has come to change my drip, which I am really nervous about as the first one bloody hurt, I was quite surprised as to why she wanted me to turn on my side. Without any warning, she shoves a tube up my bottom right up into my intestine?! F***. (Please note that this is a) The most tragic thing b) The most excruciating c)The most embarrasing thing to have ever happened to me, all whitnessed by Flo - poor sod). The nurse then proceeds to quirt 1.5lr of water up the tube. OUCH!!!
So yes, as my wonderful friend Dev put it... i`ve been "bum pumped!" AND WITHOUT SEDATION! I thought my life was over, but then I went to the loo (for an hour) and thank goodness most of it was out! Ill tell ya, that thing could have made it into the guiness world records. (Sorry family, disgusting). 3am finally to sleep, cannot WAIT to get out of here tomorrow. How wrong could I be?
3 days later, soaring temperature and several hundered drips later (3 at once), the work out that something must be up. No Dur! After various tests and more injections I now have Salmonella. Great!
I cant tell you how many drips or injections or embarrasing moments I had in those 5 days, but I was certainly put in enough pain to last a few centuries. The hospital itself was amazing, my room great and Flo looked after me SO well, but it was seriously depressing. All I wanted was my mummy and daddy.
Anyway, I made it out alive. The day I did finally make it out, I made my way to our hostel, straight to the bar and ordered 20 mal lights, a lighter, a coca tea and bit bottle of water and all was right with the world. F had gone on the worlds most dangerous rd, which I was really miffed I didnt get to go on, but I really couldnt have in my state. She had a great time and it was great to be together outside my hospital room. Its taken a while to get fully better, and im not so sure I am there yet...
ps. Dad thanks for passing on your weak stomach!
pps. Jen, I would just like to point out I wasnt sitting on my arse all day, rather lying on my side!
So we got back to Rurre after our intrepid pampas tour and had our first shower in a week! Euk. Had a nice afternoon/evening. We met up with crazy Sue and her group for some drinks and dinner and off to bed. Woke up and realised it had now been a week since loo loo!
After breakfast in a delicious French patisserie (random) and a laxative later, all was not well with my stomach. Thank goodness we had opted for the 45min plane journey rather than the 18hr plus bus journey. Having said that, the 18 seater plane did little for my nerves, nor stomach as we flew THROUGH the moutains rather than over them.
Finally we landed in La Paz, F & I, Sue and Cato (from Sues group) made our way to a hotel as a treat, seeing as I wasnt in a good state and they were pretty knackered from the tour. A nice bedroom for 4 with a TV! F and I spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and then F,S and C went out for dinner. This was when I realised all was not well (clue being I rang mum and dad). Dad told me to pop another laxative and mum, to call the doctor. I did both. The doctor told me I had an intestine infection (looking pretty preggers at this point) and it was necessary to go to hospital. WHAT? OK don´t freak out Becky, all part of the experience. Please bear in mind the only times I have been in hospital for myself was 1. When I was born and 2. When I twisted my ankle (mentioned in previous blog). Instead of freaking out I packed myself an over night bag and in that time, thankfully, F returned - so she came to hospital with me. By this point I was in so much pain that I couldnt even sit down in the car!
15mins later we arrived. Straight into one of those bum-showing-hospital-garments (yuck), in a wheel chair, down to be x-rayed and first blood test. No hanging around, back upstairs and the first of many many drips shoved into my left wrist (2 weeks on, its still bruised). By this point I feel like I am in ER! A flippin´drip, I only need a poo...? The Doc comes in and shows me the xray. Oh dear. My intestine is really quite swollen and there was a lot of trapped gas. On the upside I have a pretty hot spine and hip bone! Other than that I realise that I really am not well.
A nurse comes in, thinking she has come to change my drip, which I am really nervous about as the first one bloody hurt, I was quite surprised as to why she wanted me to turn on my side. Without any warning, she shoves a tube up my bottom right up into my intestine?! F***. (Please note that this is a) The most tragic thing b) The most excruciating c)The most embarrasing thing to have ever happened to me, all whitnessed by Flo - poor sod). The nurse then proceeds to quirt 1.5lr of water up the tube. OUCH!!!
So yes, as my wonderful friend Dev put it... i`ve been "bum pumped!" AND WITHOUT SEDATION! I thought my life was over, but then I went to the loo (for an hour) and thank goodness most of it was out! Ill tell ya, that thing could have made it into the guiness world records. (Sorry family, disgusting). 3am finally to sleep, cannot WAIT to get out of here tomorrow. How wrong could I be?
3 days later, soaring temperature and several hundered drips later (3 at once), the work out that something must be up. No Dur! After various tests and more injections I now have Salmonella. Great!
I cant tell you how many drips or injections or embarrasing moments I had in those 5 days, but I was certainly put in enough pain to last a few centuries. The hospital itself was amazing, my room great and Flo looked after me SO well, but it was seriously depressing. All I wanted was my mummy and daddy.
Anyway, I made it out alive. The day I did finally make it out, I made my way to our hostel, straight to the bar and ordered 20 mal lights, a lighter, a coca tea and bit bottle of water and all was right with the world. F had gone on the worlds most dangerous rd, which I was really miffed I didnt get to go on, but I really couldnt have in my state. She had a great time and it was great to be together outside my hospital room. Its taken a while to get fully better, and im not so sure I am there yet...
ps. Dad thanks for passing on your weak stomach!
pps. Jen, I would just like to point out I wasnt sitting on my arse all day, rather lying on my side!
Thursday 9 December 2010
Bolivia The Pampas
A few days recovering in Taganga it was onwards and downwards to La Paz. Sad to say goodbye to Al who was off to Peru, but all good as we will be seeing her for Christmas in Buenos Airies.
Upon arriving in La Paz, we got our usual "we dont like this place" (which happens to every new country) and made a rather hasty decision to make our way to Rurrenabaque, to do a tour of The Pampas. Later we discovered that this was actually in the Amazon Basin (proof of the amount of research that went into this decision). All we knew was that Rurre was an 18hr "local" (whatever that meant) bus ride away and the tour involved swimming with PINK dolphins. The bus turned out to be 20hrs, horrendous, and swimming involved the ugliest dolphins you have ever seen along with some pirhanas and crocs. Erm... no thanks. I was under some illusion that we would be swimming with dolphins in the sea... apparently not in a landlocked country Becky!
Upon arriving in Rurre after THE bus journey, which had driven 10miles an hour the whole way and involved the most disgusting toilet stop you have ever come across in your life (the cleaner, who wasnt really cleaning, was wretching as she mopped the floor... need I say more?) we arrived and had a couple of hours before the tour started. Hardcore. It took ages to get to the river (being the amazon) and finally to camp...
The first evening we arrived at camp and saw our bedroom, toilet and shower, Flo and I looked at each other and said "too soon after The Lost City!". It felt like we had never left. Obviously a completely diffferent experience and alot easier, but all the things we had hated about the trek reared and slapped us in the face, whilst Al was busy sand duning in Peru, here we were slapping on the bloody mozzi soap every 20 mins. Great!
In fairness, the trip was amazing and we saw all kinds of animals. Pink minging dolphins, endless crocodiles, monkeys, turtles and birds. It did get a bit boring after a while "oh look, another bloody crocodile!". But it was a great experience. Our group was somewhat dull, but we had met Crazy Sue on the bus ride down and she had a brilliant group. One guy, Yoshi Marley from Japan, is cycling around the world in 5 years! So during the evenings we would hang out with them, and make our own fun during the day on our boat.
The highlight was on the first night where we went crocodile eye spotting. In the pitch black of night we went out under the stars with our little torches to see the glimmering, somewhat scary eyes of hundreds of crocodiles. Cool, but the best part was when Ronnie our guide, turned off the engine, and us all our lights, and we just gazed up at the stars and watched all the fireflies light up the sky. That was pretty cool. Lowlight: Every mozzie in the world decided to come and play in the pampas those three days and it was a bloody nightmare...
Oh hang on... no what was worse than that was realising that I was constipated and had not been to the "loo loo" as F and I call it in 6 days. Oh Dear...
Upon arriving in La Paz, we got our usual "we dont like this place" (which happens to every new country) and made a rather hasty decision to make our way to Rurrenabaque, to do a tour of The Pampas. Later we discovered that this was actually in the Amazon Basin (proof of the amount of research that went into this decision). All we knew was that Rurre was an 18hr "local" (whatever that meant) bus ride away and the tour involved swimming with PINK dolphins. The bus turned out to be 20hrs, horrendous, and swimming involved the ugliest dolphins you have ever seen along with some pirhanas and crocs. Erm... no thanks. I was under some illusion that we would be swimming with dolphins in the sea... apparently not in a landlocked country Becky!
Upon arriving in Rurre after THE bus journey, which had driven 10miles an hour the whole way and involved the most disgusting toilet stop you have ever come across in your life (the cleaner, who wasnt really cleaning, was wretching as she mopped the floor... need I say more?) we arrived and had a couple of hours before the tour started. Hardcore. It took ages to get to the river (being the amazon) and finally to camp...
The first evening we arrived at camp and saw our bedroom, toilet and shower, Flo and I looked at each other and said "too soon after The Lost City!". It felt like we had never left. Obviously a completely diffferent experience and alot easier, but all the things we had hated about the trek reared and slapped us in the face, whilst Al was busy sand duning in Peru, here we were slapping on the bloody mozzi soap every 20 mins. Great!
In fairness, the trip was amazing and we saw all kinds of animals. Pink minging dolphins, endless crocodiles, monkeys, turtles and birds. It did get a bit boring after a while "oh look, another bloody crocodile!". But it was a great experience. Our group was somewhat dull, but we had met Crazy Sue on the bus ride down and she had a brilliant group. One guy, Yoshi Marley from Japan, is cycling around the world in 5 years! So during the evenings we would hang out with them, and make our own fun during the day on our boat.
The highlight was on the first night where we went crocodile eye spotting. In the pitch black of night we went out under the stars with our little torches to see the glimmering, somewhat scary eyes of hundreds of crocodiles. Cool, but the best part was when Ronnie our guide, turned off the engine, and us all our lights, and we just gazed up at the stars and watched all the fireflies light up the sky. That was pretty cool. Lowlight: Every mozzie in the world decided to come and play in the pampas those three days and it was a bloody nightmare...
Oh hang on... no what was worse than that was realising that I was constipated and had not been to the "loo loo" as F and I call it in 6 days. Oh Dear...
Saturday 4 December 2010
The Lost City 3
So I wrote part 3 and it only went and deleted so excuse me if ethusiasm is lacking!!
So as I say up at 5am, Frank wet, all wet, set off on day three. Within 30mins or so we found ourselves at a river. Well, I don´t think you could call it that, more like a force to be reckoned with! There had been torentual rain all day and all night which meant the river was very high and extremely powerful. Our guide took one look and told us to carry on. A few hundered yards later we find ourselves looking up and seeing what can only be described as a wooden frame hanging from a piece of rope over this DANGEROUS river. Ok, apparently this would be how we would cross the damn monster. I am thankful that there were no parents there to witness our "river crossing". One by one we made our way into the frame, backpacks and all, whilst our guide pulled us from the other side, on the piece of rope. There was a moment where I was suspended over this river and I thought if I loose my footing, concentration or that the extra chocolate bar I ate last night had made me that bit too heavy, within seconds I would be dead. The adrenaline side of me thought "WOW here I am suspended over this emense river/waterfall - amazing". Luckily we all made it over alive, however no hanging around to thank our lucky stars, it was onward march.
Today was the best day so far, I think it was because we had aclimatised to the endless walking. We marched through waterfalls, waded through rivers, jumped over rocks, slid down hills and finally made it to our orange break. Orange breaks were the best! However I was knackered from all my Indiana Jones intrepidness and went for a lie down. Apparently every mozzie in the jungle decided it would be a good idea to have a nibble on my back. Covered in bites. B***ards! Nothing a little bit of Orange and afterbite couldn´t sort out.
We powered on through, singing, slipping, laughing, walking and what seemed like days later we arrived at camp 3. Infact we had made such good time that there was a possibility that we could get to the Not- So- Lost- Lost -City after lunch. In the excitement we ate our lunch in our WET clothes, only to discover that the rain was coming earlier today and that we couldn´t find the city! Damn, quick, freezing shower and into DRY clothes. You´ve never seen me move so fast. After all the excitement I needed to have a lie down before supper. Usual evening antics, rummy, gin rummy, crazy eights! wow crazy fun. Unfortunately Vincent one of our group wasn´t feeling too well... little did we know this would hit us later...
Day 4: Up and early to get to the City. An hour of walking which included 1,200 never ending teeny tiny slippery steps that werent even the size of your foot up to the City. Round the corner of a mossy wall and there we were......................... eh? Where was Starbucks? No way! Had we really walked 4 days for this?
I think we all felt a bit let down and as Frank put it on our return " Put it this way, if the Lost City was half an hour from here (our hostel) then I wouldn´t bother going". Let down would be putting it nicely. Having said this, after realising that we weren´t going to be able to stock up at Topshop and continued up even more teeny tiny steps, it got better and better. Finally when we reached the top, if you like, and the views were incredible! We could even see the camp where those people got kidnapped by guerillas 8 years ago. Yes, that made me shudder to.
After a 2 hour or so tour around the city, we made it back down the flippin´steps which by numero 20 I really started to loathe. Back to camp 3 for some lunch and onward march to camp 2. The whole way Frank, Flo and I flew over rocks, waterfalls, rivers and the rest as we were so desperate to get into DRY clothes. After a while I started to feel delirious and I wasn´t sure if the lost city had affected me spiritually or that I was actually a bit unwell. I hadn´t eaten all day and started to feel it was the latter. Upon arriving at camp Frank went to lie down as he felt unwell. Within 10 mins I saw him jump out his bed and projectile all over the place. Uh-Oh. Bed for me and a little prayer to God that I was going to make the night alive. Apparently not. Within a few hours both Flo, Kristie and I were chundering everywhar. Food Poisioning. Disgusting. I missed home. Little did I know that actually that wasn´t going to be the worst night ever, however up until that point it certainly was.
The next day we all get up really early, feeling AWFUL and decide sod doing it in 6 days, we´ll do it in 5 and just pace our way back to the pueblo where we started. It is amazing what your body can do. Flo, Frank and I were more than worse for wear, but you have never seen people move so fast. Al, Flo and I, although feeling like we could die at any minuite found the whole experiencia very entertaning. We laughed the whole way back to the pueblo (6hrs of walking). WHAT A FEELING! We only gone and done it. Three of us who had never trekked in our lives, had completed (FIRST may I add) one of the hardest treks you can do, all with a smile and the occasional vomit. Wow how could I feel so good and bloody awful at the same time?
Stopped for lunch, which of course no-one could eat, and then into the bus back to Taganaga. As it had been five days we had totally forgotten all about the bloody off roading and the 4 hour journey ahead of us. Oh dear. 5/10 sick people in an off roading dodgy mini van was not the best idea. Luckily again, we all made it alive. Just. It took me 3 days to fully get over the food poisioning only to go and get constipated... but thats not for now...
THE END
So as I say up at 5am, Frank wet, all wet, set off on day three. Within 30mins or so we found ourselves at a river. Well, I don´t think you could call it that, more like a force to be reckoned with! There had been torentual rain all day and all night which meant the river was very high and extremely powerful. Our guide took one look and told us to carry on. A few hundered yards later we find ourselves looking up and seeing what can only be described as a wooden frame hanging from a piece of rope over this DANGEROUS river. Ok, apparently this would be how we would cross the damn monster. I am thankful that there were no parents there to witness our "river crossing". One by one we made our way into the frame, backpacks and all, whilst our guide pulled us from the other side, on the piece of rope. There was a moment where I was suspended over this river and I thought if I loose my footing, concentration or that the extra chocolate bar I ate last night had made me that bit too heavy, within seconds I would be dead. The adrenaline side of me thought "WOW here I am suspended over this emense river/waterfall - amazing". Luckily we all made it over alive, however no hanging around to thank our lucky stars, it was onward march.
Today was the best day so far, I think it was because we had aclimatised to the endless walking. We marched through waterfalls, waded through rivers, jumped over rocks, slid down hills and finally made it to our orange break. Orange breaks were the best! However I was knackered from all my Indiana Jones intrepidness and went for a lie down. Apparently every mozzie in the jungle decided it would be a good idea to have a nibble on my back. Covered in bites. B***ards! Nothing a little bit of Orange and afterbite couldn´t sort out.
We powered on through, singing, slipping, laughing, walking and what seemed like days later we arrived at camp 3. Infact we had made such good time that there was a possibility that we could get to the Not- So- Lost- Lost -City after lunch. In the excitement we ate our lunch in our WET clothes, only to discover that the rain was coming earlier today and that we couldn´t find the city! Damn, quick, freezing shower and into DRY clothes. You´ve never seen me move so fast. After all the excitement I needed to have a lie down before supper. Usual evening antics, rummy, gin rummy, crazy eights! wow crazy fun. Unfortunately Vincent one of our group wasn´t feeling too well... little did we know this would hit us later...
Day 4: Up and early to get to the City. An hour of walking which included 1,200 never ending teeny tiny slippery steps that werent even the size of your foot up to the City. Round the corner of a mossy wall and there we were......................... eh? Where was Starbucks? No way! Had we really walked 4 days for this?
I think we all felt a bit let down and as Frank put it on our return " Put it this way, if the Lost City was half an hour from here (our hostel) then I wouldn´t bother going". Let down would be putting it nicely. Having said this, after realising that we weren´t going to be able to stock up at Topshop and continued up even more teeny tiny steps, it got better and better. Finally when we reached the top, if you like, and the views were incredible! We could even see the camp where those people got kidnapped by guerillas 8 years ago. Yes, that made me shudder to.
After a 2 hour or so tour around the city, we made it back down the flippin´steps which by numero 20 I really started to loathe. Back to camp 3 for some lunch and onward march to camp 2. The whole way Frank, Flo and I flew over rocks, waterfalls, rivers and the rest as we were so desperate to get into DRY clothes. After a while I started to feel delirious and I wasn´t sure if the lost city had affected me spiritually or that I was actually a bit unwell. I hadn´t eaten all day and started to feel it was the latter. Upon arriving at camp Frank went to lie down as he felt unwell. Within 10 mins I saw him jump out his bed and projectile all over the place. Uh-Oh. Bed for me and a little prayer to God that I was going to make the night alive. Apparently not. Within a few hours both Flo, Kristie and I were chundering everywhar. Food Poisioning. Disgusting. I missed home. Little did I know that actually that wasn´t going to be the worst night ever, however up until that point it certainly was.
The next day we all get up really early, feeling AWFUL and decide sod doing it in 6 days, we´ll do it in 5 and just pace our way back to the pueblo where we started. It is amazing what your body can do. Flo, Frank and I were more than worse for wear, but you have never seen people move so fast. Al, Flo and I, although feeling like we could die at any minuite found the whole experiencia very entertaning. We laughed the whole way back to the pueblo (6hrs of walking). WHAT A FEELING! We only gone and done it. Three of us who had never trekked in our lives, had completed (FIRST may I add) one of the hardest treks you can do, all with a smile and the occasional vomit. Wow how could I feel so good and bloody awful at the same time?
Stopped for lunch, which of course no-one could eat, and then into the bus back to Taganaga. As it had been five days we had totally forgotten all about the bloody off roading and the 4 hour journey ahead of us. Oh dear. 5/10 sick people in an off roading dodgy mini van was not the best idea. Luckily again, we all made it alive. Just. It took me 3 days to fully get over the food poisioning only to go and get constipated... but thats not for now...
THE END
Wednesday 1 December 2010
The Lost City 2
I soon realised that turning back wasn't the best option and to just accept that jungle pong, mud, sore feet, mozzi bites and WET clothes were things I'd have to cherish over the next 5 days. So I searched deep inside my soul for my positive attitude and prayed it would last for the days trek ahead of me...
We had woken up really early, not only because we had the worst night sleep imaginable, but because we were due to go on a tour of a cocaine factory, which most people do on the trek. (Mums and dads dont freak out... Read on). After discovering it was going to cost 30.000 pesos each and that we were clearly being ripped off (as those we'd met that had gone hadn't mentioned having to pay) our group made the decision to pass, and to start on our trekking. Since - I have seen pictures of the "factory" which is infact a little hut with some coca leaves in so im pleased we didn't waste the money.
Anyway after a rank hot chocolate and some breaky, off we marched into the jungle...
Hills, hills and hills oooh a few more hills, big rocks, small rocks, slippy rocks, some the size of your head, red ground, white ground, brown ground, river, more mud, more rocks, red ground, white ground... you know the story. Occasionally I would look up and realise there is more to life than looking at rocks. Here I was in the middle of the jungle with the most amazing views... And then my leg would slip down the side of the track - my life would flash before me and all id see was mud and rocks.
After a couple of hours all was going well: Flo, Frank and I were pounding our way through the jungle singing "she'll be coming round the mountain" when I slipped and fell on my weak ankle (which I had twisted badly playing horses in primary school playground- gangster). Not great news: day 2 hurt ankle...
Eventually we came to a river where we had a pineapple break and Ian very kindly strapped my ankle for me (with blister tape!) which actually helped a bit. What seemed like days later but was actually lunch time, we arrived at camp - what a relief - wet and ready to eat. We had a lovely healthy soup for lunch and then I realised we actually had the rest of the day/night there. So in all the excitement, I suddenly felt tired and went for a lie down... In a... BED! Arguably a little smelly- but a smelly bed is better than a pongy hammock!
I forgot to mention how lucky we've been so far. It's rainy season and we were yet to be caught in the rain. As soon as we arrived at camp it would pour it down all the way into the night. I mean we were wet anyway with sweat and wading through the river, but it meant that our bags were kept dry, therefore our DRY clothes stayed DRY - the most important thing ever! Its funny how your perspective on things change, and the emphasis on DRY really couldnt be enough.
The reason I mention this is night 2: weak ankle needs the loo - surprise surprise (which is in a hut thing you had to walk into the rain in order to get to) and what happens... Oh she only goes and slips in the WET MUD. As i fall I think of that woman who made me pay £1 million for my gringo pants which has lasted me TWO days!! Bitch.
You know what this means... DRY clothes are now WET! I nearly cried, my heart tore in two and I wondered how I could fake an injury to get helicoptered home. That may sound dramatic but really it's not! Luckily I had a pair of DRY leggings - otherwise suicide would have been necessary.
After a few quite mins to myself I realised that worse things could happen and sucked it up begrudgingly.
Next morning, into wet clothes at 5am with about 3hrs sleep. Frank however decides to keep his dry clothes on for as long as possible and eats breaky in them. ERROR. First rule of Lost City Trek: dont, whatever you do, wear dry clothes in the early morning. He learnt that lesson. He stupidly went to wash his toothbrush in the shower (please note: on trek you loose all sense of logic and normality, especially when wearing dry clothes) and for some reason the shower vomits water out it's head like it hadn't been turned on in 100 years. There was Frank. Soaked. DRY clothes NOW.
We had a mutual understanding of the situation and connected on a level the others couldn't. Poor me. Poor Frank. Boy did I laugh my ass off though - I was the only one who could...
To be continued...
We had woken up really early, not only because we had the worst night sleep imaginable, but because we were due to go on a tour of a cocaine factory, which most people do on the trek. (Mums and dads dont freak out... Read on). After discovering it was going to cost 30.000 pesos each and that we were clearly being ripped off (as those we'd met that had gone hadn't mentioned having to pay) our group made the decision to pass, and to start on our trekking. Since - I have seen pictures of the "factory" which is infact a little hut with some coca leaves in so im pleased we didn't waste the money.
Anyway after a rank hot chocolate and some breaky, off we marched into the jungle...
Hills, hills and hills oooh a few more hills, big rocks, small rocks, slippy rocks, some the size of your head, red ground, white ground, brown ground, river, more mud, more rocks, red ground, white ground... you know the story. Occasionally I would look up and realise there is more to life than looking at rocks. Here I was in the middle of the jungle with the most amazing views... And then my leg would slip down the side of the track - my life would flash before me and all id see was mud and rocks.
After a couple of hours all was going well: Flo, Frank and I were pounding our way through the jungle singing "she'll be coming round the mountain" when I slipped and fell on my weak ankle (which I had twisted badly playing horses in primary school playground- gangster). Not great news: day 2 hurt ankle...
Eventually we came to a river where we had a pineapple break and Ian very kindly strapped my ankle for me (with blister tape!) which actually helped a bit. What seemed like days later but was actually lunch time, we arrived at camp - what a relief - wet and ready to eat. We had a lovely healthy soup for lunch and then I realised we actually had the rest of the day/night there. So in all the excitement, I suddenly felt tired and went for a lie down... In a... BED! Arguably a little smelly- but a smelly bed is better than a pongy hammock!
I forgot to mention how lucky we've been so far. It's rainy season and we were yet to be caught in the rain. As soon as we arrived at camp it would pour it down all the way into the night. I mean we were wet anyway with sweat and wading through the river, but it meant that our bags were kept dry, therefore our DRY clothes stayed DRY - the most important thing ever! Its funny how your perspective on things change, and the emphasis on DRY really couldnt be enough.
The reason I mention this is night 2: weak ankle needs the loo - surprise surprise (which is in a hut thing you had to walk into the rain in order to get to) and what happens... Oh she only goes and slips in the WET MUD. As i fall I think of that woman who made me pay £1 million for my gringo pants which has lasted me TWO days!! Bitch.
You know what this means... DRY clothes are now WET! I nearly cried, my heart tore in two and I wondered how I could fake an injury to get helicoptered home. That may sound dramatic but really it's not! Luckily I had a pair of DRY leggings - otherwise suicide would have been necessary.
After a few quite mins to myself I realised that worse things could happen and sucked it up begrudgingly.
Next morning, into wet clothes at 5am with about 3hrs sleep. Frank however decides to keep his dry clothes on for as long as possible and eats breaky in them. ERROR. First rule of Lost City Trek: dont, whatever you do, wear dry clothes in the early morning. He learnt that lesson. He stupidly went to wash his toothbrush in the shower (please note: on trek you loose all sense of logic and normality, especially when wearing dry clothes) and for some reason the shower vomits water out it's head like it hadn't been turned on in 100 years. There was Frank. Soaked. DRY clothes NOW.
We had a mutual understanding of the situation and connected on a level the others couldn't. Poor me. Poor Frank. Boy did I laugh my ass off though - I was the only one who could...
To be continued...
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