Thursday, April 22, 2010
High in the North
Friday, April 16, 2010
Escape from Lima
It had been 5 days since we arrived in Lima. True to form, we came to Peru with no set itinerary. We had vague ideas that at some point we would head south, or north, or whatever… So, on Wednesday at 3:30pm Cesar discovered there was an 8pm bus to Chiclayo, the capital of Lambayeque Department. Since the bus-ride from Lima to Chiclayo is 12 hours, we wanted to get it over with at night, so we could sleep instead of wasting a day on the long, dusty, Pan American highway through the desert along the Pacific. To my Norte-Americano friends and family – I know that the word “bus” in South America fills you with images of an ancient vehicle packed with sweaty peasants with their assorted farm animals. Sorry, folks. Buses in South America are incredibly civilized and a comfortable way to travel. This one had fully reclining “cama” seats that turn into beds. It even had meal service, movies a bingo game with prizes and a “urination only” bathroom policy.
So, that would give us four hours to get ourselves ready. No problema. No problem for Cesar’s dad either. To the three of us, simply say “vamos” and we’re ready to go anywhere. Cesar’s mom opted to stay in Lima. She’s a city girl.
By the time we had decided to go, explored other transportation options, and then finally bought our tickets, our four hours had been whittled down to one and a half, with just barely enough time to get from the bus depot, through dense Lima rush-hour traffic across town, back to our apartment to pack in five minutes, and back through the same streets to the bus depot. Thanks to a cab driver with uncanny navigation skills of back streets, we just made it. Looking out of the taxi window on the way meet our bus, I saw a colorful blur of row houses to my right – sky blue, ochre, mango orange, algae green and deep purple. This was nice, but looking right or left in intersections is another story. I don’t recommend it. You will see the onrushing flow of traffic coming straight at you. At night the lights of the cars headed for your side door are blinding. Cars in Lima don’t really stop for each other, they just all kind of merge in with the flow and fill in the gaps. Lines painted on the road are there for decoration only. At lights, taxis jockey for position to try to get a slight edge on the other cars they are lined up with. With much swerving, honking of horns, and sudden braking, we arrived just in time for our bus.
We arrived in Chiclayo at 8am and went in search of breakfast, which turned out to be delicious turkey sandwiches – fresh hot rolls with moist real roasted turkey - like the day after Thanksgiving but better. Then we found rooms and headed to a town to the north which houses museums of nearby archeological finds of pre-Inca cultures. We spent an hour or two in a dark and cool museum shaped like a pyramid. You start at the top and descend down, just as the archeologists did who excavated this particular find at a site called Sipan. It contained unmolested burial chambers of important Mochica leaders and priests, buried with huge amounts of intricate objects of copper and gold.
It was an interesting day for transportation too. We arrived in a luxurious bus, took a taxi to the town of Lambayeque to see the Museo de las Tumbas Reales de Sipan (12 soles for the 12 km drive), then after our museum tour went to a restaurant (for outstanding cebiche, and stewed goat and duck) by way of a taxi cholo – a lot like a rickshaw, but with a motorcycle converted into a three wheeled contraption with a long seat in the back, then another taxi cholo, which broke down on the way to our destination, then a collectivo which is the size of a VW microbus in which they cram up to 15 people. That ride, from Lambayeque back to Chiclayo was only 3 soles. The collectivos really are something. In addition to the driver there is an assistant whose job is to look for pedestrians in need of a ride. The assistant will hop out of the vehicle to shout prices and route information and generally try to get walkers to get in and take a ride. Then he’ll run for the already moving vehicle when it’s time to go and jump in. Ours was nearly left behind though because Cesar closed the sliding door just as he was trying to grab it. Cesar swears it was just force of habit that lead him to close the door. All of the passengers had a chuckle over that.
Tomorrow we’re off to Chepen, 40 km to the south to see Cesar’s ancestral homeland.
One of these days I’ll get around to posting more about our recent trip to Patagonia. For now I’ll try to keep up with our time in Peru.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Return to Patagonia
More specifically, we are in the town of El Chalten, in Santa Cruz province in the south of Argentina, very near Chile. This is a young town, built in 1984 after a border dispute between Chile and Argentina resulted in this area being in Argentina's possession. To stake their claim, the Argentines quickly established a town here. El Chalten feels like a frontier town. 500 people call it their home during the entire year. The summer (December through March) sees a large influx of tourists from all over the globe. Out on the trails, we hear a lot of German, French and English spoken. The town is a four hour drive through immense nothingness from the airport in the next largest town, El Calafate. Until recently, the highway here was an unpaved "ripio" road. Ripio is a washboard road that will rattle the fillings out of your teeth. But now the highway is paved and an airport is planned. The tourism industry is booming. It also helps that the current and former presidents of Argentina are from this province. Things here will change rapidly.
Patagonia, technically The Patagonia, is a region spanning across the bottom of South America, including both southern Argentina and southern Chile. No one knows exactly why the region is called La Patagonia. My favorite explanation is that Magellan, when he first encountered the very tall Tehuelche indians who lived here, exclaimed "Patagon!", which could mean "Big Foot". This isn't proper Spanish though and I for one am skeptical that this is how it got its name. The idea of Big Foot on the prowl here is easy to imagine though, once you experience the scale of the place.
It is our third day here and we have covered many miles already. On our first day, the clouds fell away from the major peaks and we were treated to fabulous views of Mount Fitz Roy and Mount Torre. Today, our third day, the wind has picked up considerably. Sometimes it gusts so violently that it takes ones breath away. The butterflies, dragonflies and birds are all grounded today. It is too windy even for Condors. I did see one this morning, but it appeared to be flying sideways. I heard someone say that they wished the wind would blow away the clouds hiding Mount Fitz Roy. This is not the thing to wish for if you want good views because mountains make their own weather. As the wind passes over the peaks, it speeds up and gets chilled, creating condensation which results in cloud formation. The indian name for Mount Fitz Roy is Chalten, meaning the mountain that smokes - because of the wisp of cloud usually trailing from it. No worries, if you don't like the weather in Patagonia, just wait, it will change.
p.s. I will upload photos as soon as I am able. The strong winds today seem to have an effect on the internet signal.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The Small Stuff
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Coati Quest
We had been trudging up the small boulders that make the trail to the top of Cerro Pan de Azucar. This was our second outing to the park and I had left my camera at home. So there I was, admiring a ring tailed Coati staring right at us from 8 feet away while my husband, whose philosophy about picture taking just prior to that moment had been to “experience” rather than be behind a lens, expressed his disappointment that I was sans camera. Naturally, I told him to just be in the moment and enjoy rather than getting caught up in bagging a photo trophy. We stood there for a while, him watching us, us watching him, awed to see a creature like this here. The Coati didn’t seem awed though, he just yawned as he approached us with curiosity.
I could substitute one of the many Coati photos I took in Tikal, Guatemala seven years ago. In Tikal, ring-tailed Coatis are like squirrels are in most parts of the United States – everywhere. However, the same creature here is unlikely to be seen. Up until now, we had not even heard of Coatis in Uruguay. Their habitat is forest, which Uruguay does not have a lot of.
Hopefully, we’ll see this little guy again. If you should come across a Coati, or any wildlife for that matter, please don’t feed them. In doing so, you would be habituating a wild animal to humans, who may not all have good intentions. Wild animals have adapted beautifully to fit their environment, of which your snack food is not a natural part.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Cerro Pan de Azucar
We finally got around to exploring Cerro Pan de Azucar today. The route to the top is a well established and well marked trail, not the mad thorn-choked bushwack I suspected it may be. At the bottom near the trail entrance is a zoo of some sorts. We avoided it since I find wild animals in cages to be depressing. However, on the way to the trail-head, we did enjoy seeing in large enclosures two examples of Uruguay’s increasingly rare indigenous fauna, Pampas Deer (“venados”) and a small cousin to the ostrich, the Nandu.
Our walk to the trail and ascent took just under an hour. We started at noon, when the sun is at its most brutal. I don’t know what it is about Uruguay, but the sun here seems extra strong and punishing. My unscientific theory is that the ozone layer above the country has been depleted by Uruguayans’ incessant burning of wood and the methane released by their many, many cows. But I digress. Our shadeless and broiling hot ascent was punishment for not getting there in the morning, as we had originally planned.
It was hot.
One of the things I admire about Uruguayos is that they don’t seem to worry about anything. All is “tranquilo”. In fact, the most frequent comment we heard while traveling in Argentina in response to our choice of place to live (next to “¿por que?”) is “ah, Uruguay, tranquilo”. Sometimes, though, the Uruguayan lack of worry can go a bit far. I am thinking of shirtless guys on motorcycles, often without helmets and wearing flip-flops; or today, seeing people going up craggy, rocky Pan de Azucar wearing flip-flops. By comparison, my all-leather trekking boots from L.L.Bean that I am breaking in must have looked seriously overkill to them. They may not be outdoors people as we are used to in the northern hemisphere (the Uruguaya idea of camping is being as close as possible to your 500 best friends), but I think Uruguayans are a hardy lot. Unfortunately, they don’t quite grasp the idea of protecting and respecting our natural environment, so litter and graffiti are common sights in parks.
Litter aside (anyone want to help me on a clean-up campaign?), Cerro Pan de Azucar is a fun experience, not to be missed if you live nearby. Enjoy the photos.
Typical disrepair of local parks.
Duh, where's the trail?
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Antiques Shopping, Uruguayan Style
I think this particular remate was an unusual one for its size and the quality of the items. In contrast, check out the heap of junk for sale at the first remate Cesar went to in Uruguay. I’m glad I passed on that one. So, just like the Pennsylvania sales, this remate had a glossy flyer with the details and pictures of the most photogenic or desirable items. An auction house was hired to manage the event. An event it was – at 9am it began with the auctioning of farm equipment, it then progressed to different locations around the property to sell off smaller farming tools, odds and ends and common things like cook pots and knick-knacks. The main event, scheduled to start at 6pm, in typical Uruguayo style did not start until 8pm. Before sunset, we gathered in plastic lawn chairs before a large screen set up just outside of the main house.