Bolivia 7: RUN Pearline, RUN

Cochabamba! Bustling market town in a fertile valley, midway between the Andes to the West, and the lowland jungles/pampas in the East. We were there because I found a website that said that Cochabamba was the paragliding capital of Bolivia. $30 USD/jump. I couldn't resist.

But first-- a stop at the tourist information office. Somehow, I managed to lose my wallet (this is becoming a terrible tradition), and I was looking for a phone that would call the US, to cancel my credit cards. However, the tourist office was temporarily closed because there was a Christmas Event happening. At first we didn't know what was going on, but the massive numbers of children, the christmas tree, and all those women dressed as elves, gave the game away. The people we asked said it was not possible to answer my questions right now, but would we like some free coffee and deep-fried dough?

Anyways, they couldn't help and in the end I used my hp to call America, but the coffee and fried dough was really quite tasty. And we got to watch children receive presents from Santa.

Next day: Paragliding! We arrive early at the offices of Andes Xtremo, and were ferried to the cliffs 15mins away by our instructor Andres, and his assistant. We stop at the landing site, and Andres says that we will take turns jumping: one of us stay there, while the other will be driven to the top to jump, then we will switch.

"Who will go first?"

uneasy looks pass between Char n I. Char looks a lot more uneasy than I feel.

"Ok, I go first", I say.

I get into the car, leaving Char with a book and the camera. I feel pretty excited as we set off-- finally! paragliding! It sounds awesome!! I become less and less excited, the further up we drive. I make the mistake of looking down the edge... It's a hella loong way down. My heart immediately sinks to my stomach, and they both do a little quivering dance.

We get to the launch site, Andres and friend start rolling out the chute. I try not to think about it. Finally, they are ready. Andres ties into the parachute gig, and I'm tied in, in front of him.

"OKAY PEARLINE THIS IS HOW WE DO IT. WHEN I SAY RUN, WE RUN. DO NOT STOP RUNNING UNTIL I SAY STOP."

"Okay."

"OK now, RUN!!!!"

My legs started moving like my life dpded on it, but we didn't move! The parachute is HEAVY. I felt like a little hamster on the wheel.

"RUN PEARLINE, RUN!!!"

"I'M TRYING!!!!"

We eventually start moving, and I was too distracted with the running to pee my pants. Before I knew it, we were airborne! It was so cool! It was exactly what you'd expect a falling via parachute to feel like-- suspended and free, yet supported by a giant blanket. There was a thermal in one spot, and Andres expertly maneuvered us to ride up the rising hot air. Now I know how eagles feel, soaring in the air. =).

After some more floating, Andres offered to do stunts. So we did some swinging from left to right, but most fun was the spiral descent, when we banked downwards and rightwards, and did this whirlwind thing rapidly towards the ground. TOTALLY AWESOME.

We landed nicely at the arranged spot, and it was Char's turn to go up. I told her that it was fun, she'll be fine, and to run when he says "RUN".

Char had her jump without mishaps, and we happily returned to cbba. For breakfast, we finally had a saltena, which the guidebook claims to be a CBBA specialty. (actually, they are found all over Bolivia, but are esp famous in cbba). Saltenas are savory meat baked in a thick pastry shell (think curry puff or mini calzone). We bite into ours and it is Incredible. Steaming hot chicken, swimming in juices, complemented nicely by the crunchy, slightly sweet pastry. Heaven must be full of saltenas.

Full of warm fuzzy feelings towards CBBA and indeed Life in general, we troop off to the bus station get tickets to our final Bolivian destination, Santa Cruz.

Bolivia 6: My heart goes Shalalalala

First stop in the early morning: the fumaroles (steam vents). Not much to say about them, because we were 1) super tired and 2) super cold.

Next, a dip in the hot spring before breakfast. It seemed like this item was on everyone's itinerary, because the little pool soon became filled with tourists. However, the overcrowding didn't mar the awesomeness of the hot water. Total bliss, made all the more so by the brisk morning air.

The rest of the morning was more pretty lake-pretty flamingoes. Lunch was at some random little village. We were hanging out, waiting for yet another flat tyre to be fixed, when I realized that atop a big rock around the corner, was half a propeller plane. Yes, half. The tail half, to be precise. Apparently it crashed about 50 yrs ago and no one bothered to take it down.

The morning was also made memorable by the music being played in our jeep. For the last 2 days, we had been playing music frm Char's ipod. but it was running outta juice, so that morning we turned it off. The driver then decided to play music from his mp3 player. Unfortunately, it had only two songs on it. Yes, TWO. The first one was an English version of a popular Chinese song (Wen bie), and the second one had a chorus that went 'And my heart goes Shalalalala, shalala in the mooorrnning... (etc)'. Those 2 songs were on repeat the whole morning. That's a lot of shalalalalas. No one else seemed to be in hair-tearing agony except for me and Charmaine... We tried our best to sleep, but that nefarious 'shalalalala' invaded my nightmares for days afterwards. I'm not sure if it would've been better in the second jeep. The Australian guys in that jeep openly admitted to being big fans of Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys, and were conducting free-for-all karaoke sessions in their vehicle.

=)

It was a pretty fun trip.

After lunch we had a 5hr drive back to Uyuni. We stopped briefly at San Cristobal, a (silver) mining town. We could hear festive music in the distance. Our cook pointed out the men sitting by the road drinking beer. She said that these were miners back from work. They get paid at the end of the day, then spend that $$ and the rest of the evening drinking. Apparently, they need to drink because mining is really hard work. We asked about the music, and she told us it was a mass wedding. The Christmas period is a popular time to get married, because most people are on holiday.

The rest of the day was uneventful. After getting back to Uyuni, we hopped a night bus to Oruro and onwards to Cochabamba. The bus to Oruro reminded me of the chicken buses in Guatemala. We had assigned seats, but there were amazing numbers of people standing and eventually sitting and sleeping in the aisles. They are not at all shy about sitting on your armrest, or invading your legroom. It was quite an experience.

I had a good time at the Salar! 3d 2n is a good length for this trip. The landscapes are amazing, the weather was good, and I saw loads of flamingoes (my favorite birds because they can stand on one leg), and wild vicuna and llama. The people on our tour were also really fun to hang out with. However after 3days the endless drives in the jeep became quite boring... plus the food wasn't that good. No regrets though. It's like a 3 day trip to Mars!!--- Totally radical, but you don't wanna live there. [note to self: Jason Mraz songs are a perfect soundtrack for a drive around Mars. The shalalalala song is not so good.]

Bolivia 5: Salt everywhere

This next leg of our trip was THE REASON for our epic journey to Bolivia. Apparently, HS was so impressed with the bizarre but breathtaking landscapes of the Salar de Uyuni that he strongly recommended Bolivia to Eujin. Eujin then became a firm convert and passed on this info to me.

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The bus ride from La Paz to Uyuni was awful. 7pm-6am, initially with flashing lights and loud music, followed by an earnest attempt to hit every pothole along the way. 1am: toilet stop at a restaurant with modern toilet bowls, but non-functional plumbing-- 'flushing' was accomplished by scooping water from a large tub outside, and pouring it into the bowl. I guess we were lucky to have toilets at all, but I remember being extremely upset at that time.

6am at Uyuni. Cold. The guidebook claimed that hordes of tour agents throng the bus terminal hawking their tours, but we saw only one man there. Also, there was no terminal, just a street junction. HRM. We walk to the town center, feeling slightly lost. Everything was still closed. Finally, we see 2 agencies near the train station that were open. We decide on a 3day-2night tour of the Salar de Uyuni with Lipez tours, then tottered to the cafe next door for food and rejuvenation.

Sometime after 10am, 2 land cruisers pulled up outside the office, and the tour operators (2 women) returned from their marketing with bags of groceries for our trip. We were a group of 11-- 4 (crazy) Australians, 1 Swiss, 2 Argentinians, 1 Dutch, 2 S'poreans.

First stop, the Train Cemetery. Trains used to run from Bolivia to Chile, and when no longer fit for service, were retired into this spot in the desert to rust gracefully. Now, they serve as an attraction for tourists, and Uyuni youths with too much time and spray paint.

Next was the obligatory tourist souvenir stop, full of unenticing ashtrays and llama figurines carved from salt. The next souvenir stop was more interesting, because the entire hut, including furniture, was made from blocks of salt.

All this salt comes from the Uyuni salt flats-- once upon a time, this area was part of a massive inland lake. But the water has mostly dried up, leaving Uyuni with a bizarre landscape of endless salt. Water still lurks under the surface, and the Salar is dangerous during the rainy season. The endless white salt distorts depth perception, and we had fun taking cool 'optical illusion' pictures. Clear blue skies + sparkling white ground = pretty pictures.

Lunch was at the Isla de Pescado (Fish Island), so named because it's shaped like a fish. We hiked up to the summit of the little hill, enjoying the views of the landscape (dotted with little tourist-filled jeeps) and the cacti that grew on the island.

"Un momentito", one might ask. "Island? aren't you in a salt desert?"

Er. Yes. The salar is endless salt and wiry brush, punctuated with random rocky 'island' oases that harbor cacti, flowers and butterflies.
Another long jeep ride, before arriving at our abode for the night, a salt hotel. I ask the driver if he ever gets lost in this endless roadless signless desert. He says he uses the distant mountains as landmarks, but when it's cloudy during the rainy season, people have gotten lost and died in the desert. I give quick thanks to the cloudless skies.The salt hotel was really awesome. The walls and furniture are salt, and the supporting beams are dead cacti. Although it became really COLD at night, we were snugly insulated in our house of salt. After dinner, some kids from the village came in and started playing instruments, with the littlest ones singing and dancing. The little girls were SO CUTE. augmented by their out-of-tune singing and off-rhythm dancing. total tourist trap, but equipped with trusting big eyes and hesitant smiles.

After emptying our coin pouches, we braved the cold and went outside. If I were Van Gough I would have whipped out oils and canvas. However, that night we were content to simply stand and stare at the cosmos above.

The next day I wake up feeling pretty good-- it wasn't too cold at night, which is one of my very few minimum requirements for a hostel. It must have been the salt that was the insulator, because the generator shut off at 10pm.

The day was marked by multiple cycles of Jeep -> lagoon/rock formation -> Jeep. I was very excited to see many flamingoes at the lagoons. I read somewhere that they come here to breed. But superficial observation yielded only eating and flying and sleeping behavior.... *shrug* Maybe it was the wrong season. I took many flamingo pictures. But the coolest ones are those taken through Julia's binoculars. Charmaine will attest to how my pictorial record of the day can be summarized with just one representative 'Flamingoes in Lagoon' composition. The lagoons are also really interesting. Due to different mineral sediments and algae, they have different colors.

We also visited these awesome but random rock formations in the middle of the desert. I climbed a big rock with the Argentian guy, but it was v.v. windy up there, so we didn't linger.

Spent the night at random hostel near the Laguna Colorada, together with huge numbers of other tour groups. Another band of children came by to busk.

Side note: I was really quite proud of my photography skills from Uyuni. But today I found the National Geographic Antiplano feature by George Steinmetz, and realized that the landscape is so astounding any idiot with a point and shoot will go home satisfied. For truly brilliant compositions, check this out.

Bolivia 4: these Bolivianos are crazy...

Our last day on the pampas started slowly-- breakfast, then making alligator teeth necklaces with our guide. One of the Israeli guys declared the activity emasculating, but our guide said that in the jungle tribes, this activity was performed by the men. I guess it's a 'I killed this alligator and now I'm going to hang a dental specimen around my neck' thing. -shrug-

Next, we set off on the canoe, with a large piece of chicken skin, to look for Pedro. Pedro is an alligator that the guides seem to know and love. Apparently Pedro likes to lurk in a particular spot in the mangrove. Unfortunately, Pedro was either not at home, or not receiving visitors, because he didn't respond to our repeated ringing of his doorbell. (ie Calling his name loudly, banging the side of the boat, waving chicken skin in the air and water)

We returned to camp, slightly dejected. And oh what a wonderful surprise, there was a large alligator lurking near the camp! The guide demonstrated how to bait the gator by holding the chicken skin near its nostrils, then pulling away as it snapped forward. It was completely insane, and would have violated about three million safety laws in America. By some miracle, everyone who tried it survived without injuries. 

Nothing else that day came close to that level of excitement, not even the prospect of going back to town and doing laundry. 

I have mixed feelings about the pampas tour. It was incredible to be there, motoring down river: the banks teeming with interesting flora and fauna, random fish jumping into the boat, hearing the occasional PPFFTTT from a dolphin's blowhole. I was very excited to see the animals, but I'm pretty sure that the animals were not happy to see us. And I dunno whether our guide going to great lengths to get us closer to the animals is something all the jungle people do anyways, or if it's to cater to us tourists-- in hope of a bigger tip.

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The following morning, we flew back to La Paz. The flight was very smooth, and we were only delayed for 3 hours this time =). To combat the altitude, we were armed with a large bag of coca leaves. Chewing the leaves is a local remedy for the altitude. 

We had an afternoon to kill in La Paz before our 7pm bus to Uyuni, so we decided to walk to the famous Voodoo market, and central plaza. On the way to the market, the main street was lined with makeshift stalls (like the pasar malams in S'pore), selling a bewildering variety of sundry goods, as well as Christmas essentials (fruitcake, flashing lights, plastic Mary/Joseph/Jesus, plastic mangers and farm animals).

The Voodoo market is famous because you can buy tribal medicine, including dried llama foetuses (bury in front of your new home to ensure good luck). There are also many stalls selling the usual tourist souvenirs. 

Not much else to say about La Paz. The central plaza was a typical S.American Plaza: nice colonial buildings, fountain in the middle, many people and pigeons. La Paz traffic was pretty bad, and the streets are narrow and hilly. But it had a certain charm, a certain je ne sais quoi... maybe it's the road-crossing monitors dressed as zebras??

Bolivia 3: Great Snakes

We wake up at 7am the next day, and take a (cold) shower. After breakfast (many varieties of tasty fried dough), we slather on the mosquito repellent, put on rubber boots, and set off on a Great Snake Finding Expedition in the pampas (grasslands).

The pampas is huge. Large tracts of waist-high grass, punctuated by a few mudpools/lakes, and clumps of trees. In the middle of the rainy season, the entire area is flooded, and becomes one big lake. We see loads of crab shells, and holes occupied by little toads. We also see random birds (including 2 parakeets overhead), and capybara.

B4 we entered a clump of trees, the guide warns us to reapply repellent. Muchos mosquitoes. And it's true. Everyone soon attracted their own little swarm. Thank God for repellent. Our guide was looking out for snakes on the trees, and 5mins later started acting like a commando in the movies-- crouched low, eyes fixated on the tree branch, urgent hand signals for us to stay back and keep quiet... He gingerly approached the tree, then grabbed an anaconda off the tree branch and knocked it onto the ground! After a brief tussle with the snake (enthusiastically aided by the Israelis), he had the anaconda by its head and body. Thus began the slew of trophy picture taking. I am embarrassed to admit that I was a participant in this. The poor snake must have been scared outta its mind, because it started defecating like crazy. When it was my turn to hold the snake, I was surprised by its slight sliminess (prob cos of the poo), and its weight (quite heavy, although it was only ard 2m). I was very happy to pass him over to the next guy. Anacondas are safer on land than in water, where they can move extremely rapidly. Snakes over 5m long can kill a man by asphyxiation.

After everyone who wanted to got to hold the snake, our guide released it, then taught us to use random leaves to clean our hands. Snake-poo cologne is very out of fashion. 

We tramped around some more in the pampas, and visited a large lake (Lago Mina), which had many fish and alligators. We couldn't really see the alligators, but we knew they were there cos the fish were constantly jumping up from the water. The guys spotted a dead catfish that washed up on the shore, and the guide showed us an alligator bite-mark on its underbelly-- the likely cause of its death.

Walking back from the lake, our guide pointed out artifacts of interest-- molted cobra skin, a wasp nest, angsana fruit... Then, a whispered shout from one of the guys-- they had found a cobra under a tree! Our guide did his commando thing again, then lunged for the cobra's tail! He just missed, and the cobra slithered away at top speed. Undeterred, the guide dashed after the snake, and both did their best to beat the world record for the 100m sprint across rainforest undergrowth.

We also gave chase, and when we caught up to them, the guide had both hands on the cobra's tail, but the rest of the snake had burrowed under a large fallen log. The guide yelled frantically for one of the guys to poke the snake out from the other side of the log, but our groupmates were sadly lacking in snake-poking techniques. In the end, one of the guys took over tail-holding duty, while our guide demonstrated his impressive thrust, parry and counter thrust with a handy branch. The snake did a rapid about-turn, and after more tussling (including very impressive rearing of the cobra's hood), our guide emerged triumphant. 

Again, I felt really guilty. Here was a cobra, innocently going about its business, not at all deserving of these indignities. But um. now that we have it immobilized, surely I should take a trophy picture?

Holding the cobra was much more pleasant than holding the anaconda. It was smooth, not scaly like the Ancda, and also did not smell like poo. The guide said that once cobras are captured, they become limp and play dead, waiting for their chance to escape. 

The rest of the day was not as eventful. We returned from our hike feeling very VERY hot, sweaty, and grimy. The guys without repellent were in terrible shape. After lunch we went looking for dolphins, but only got close enough to hear and see jets of water from their blowholes. One of the guys had a desperate longing to swim with (and perhaps on) a dolphin, and promptly dived into the water whenever we saw them nearby. But no amount of agitation of the water surface (mimicking the sound of fish jumping), or plaintive calls of 'dolphin, dolphin..' could attract them. I saw an Amazon river dolphin at the aquarium in SF. They look like smaller, wrinkler versions of ocean dolphins. The amazon rivers used to run north to south, and the dolphins were from the pacific ocean. Then tectonic activity gave rise to the Andes mountains, reversing the direction of the rivers, and trapping the dolphins. Although why the dolphins didn't then swim north and escape into the Caribbean was a question not addressed in wikipedia... =X

We also tried to fish for pirahna, but were fairly unsuccessful. Our guide caught a few catfish, though. 

After sunset, we went looking for alligator eyes. With the light from a reasonably strong torch, alligator eyes glow red at night. They look scary and evil. Since the river bank harbored multiple pockets of lurking gators, motoring down the river at night is a scene I expect to see in a S.American horror movie in the near future. 

Our guide spotted a baby gator, motored into the marsh, and grabbed it. More trophy pictures. But it was very docile, and actually kinda cute. I dunno how our guide could tell the size of the gator just by seeing the evil red eyes. but i'm sure natural selection will only allow the smart guides to survive... This delightful specimen is about 2 yrs old. Mother gators stay with their brood for 1 year, after which the babies are left to fend for themselves.

Bolivia 2: Pampas tour, or close encounters with the buaya

The next morning we turn up dutifully at 8.30am at the tour agency, for our scheduled 9am departure. *sigh*... we would soon learn that in Bolivia, Time is a flexible and moving target. At about 9am, more people show up, including this guy on an ATV, who commences a loud and vociferous argument with the nice ladies who run the agency. We don't really know what went on, but some sort of agreement was made, and the israeli guys he brought along stayed while he left on his ATV.So. Our group consisted of Char and I, 3 constantly smoking israeli guys, and 1 israeli guy with his peruvian girlfriend. 

After an extremely bumpy and muddy 3hr jeep ride, including one memorable OH SHEEEET moment as the jeep lurched into a mudhole, we arrived at the Rio Yacuma. We piled happily into our motorized canoe, and set off, on our great Amazon adventure!

The river was awesome! It was fairly wide and muddy, and its banks housed a large amount of flora and fauna. The most common sights were: alligators and caymens (mostly small), capybara (largest rodent in the world), turtles (sunbathing on logs), herons, and this fat brown bird which our guide said was a bird of paradise. (Or he could have said 'bird parasite'... my spanish and his english both leave much to be desired)

There were 3 main types of fish in the river: pirahna, catfish and dogfish. The fish were constantly jumping out of the water, and sometimes into our canoe, triggering frantic attempts to throw them back into the water. The guide said that the fish weren't jumping around for fun nor fitness, but to avoid the murderous attempts of underwater alligators.

About the alligators: we saw mostly small ones, and the occasional huge one. When he saw an esp. big gator, the guide would motor our canoe right up to the monster. This caused extreme consternation to Char and I, and extreme excitement and joy to the very very insane Israeli guys. They all wanted to touch the gator and collect trophy photos and videos. This made the alligator very upset. Obviously un-interested in being a contestant in 'Israel's Most Macho Home Videos', it would trash violently in a desperate bid to escape into the river. Warning to all would-be intrepid bolivian travelers: If your tour grp consists of guys with Indiana-Jones complexes, go at your own risk.

We also saw the cutest little monkeys. A brief google for 'cute monkey amazon' revealed them to be squirrel monkeys. A whole troupe was at a low-hanging tree, and our guide immediately produced a bunch of bananas. The monkeys went um... nuts. Soon, we had the whole troupe's undivided attention. According to the guide, there are 3 main types of monkeys: squirrel monkeys (smallest), spider monkeys and howler monkeys. According to wikipedia, sq-monkeys have a brain:body mass of 1:17, the largest ratio for any primate. (humans have 1:35) When we ran out of bananas, the Israelis tried to tempt the monkeys with their cigarettes, but they wisely demurred (must be the immense brain: body ratio).

Char and I chatted with our guide. He has 8yrs of experience as a guide, and grew up in a small (jungle?) pueblo. He went to guide-school, but learnt everything as a kid by taking walks with his father. Charmaine expressed a desire to grow up in the jungle so that she too would learn stuff and become absolutely fearless around immensely large alligators. I'm not sure I share her desires. Sounds cool though.

After 2-3hr of canoeing, we arrive at the campsite/cabins, where we got settled into bunk beds in raised wooden cabins. Fairly nice campsite, equipped with mosquito netting, hammocks, toilets with plumbing, and more than a few toads.

The misadventures of Pearline's not-so-triumphant return to Singapore

I sit here in the Silver Kris lounge at the Hong Kong airport. Life is good.

But life was not good a mere 1hr 15mins ago. At that time, I was running through the airport to catch my flight. Just like in the movies. By my side was an attractive SQ rep in heels, also running and occasionally gasping into her walkie talkie. I took a mental moment to appreciate how much my life was resembling the movie 'Wanted', which I had just seen on the way from San Francisco.

Unfortunately I had no glamorous/dangerous reason for being late. I had just over-read my time at the bookstore [although the book was an absorbing treatise on Genghis Khan, and I couldn't put it down until the newly minted Mongolian nation had stormed their first fortress in Xi Xia].

Also unfortunately (at that time), they had closed the gate. Longingly, I caressed the airplane parked tantalizingly at the gate with my eyes. So near yet so far away. I am SUCH AN IDIOT.

I trudge back dejectedly to the airport transfer desk with my attractive SQ rep. The silence was broken periodically by racking coughs from my parched throat. The movies never show this part... People are supposed to catch their damn airplanes if they run furiously enough, and scatter enough luggage carts... 

Long story short, I get rescheduled on the next flight home, and the nice lady at the desk informs me that I actually have United Gold status, so please go to the business lounge and make sure I hear the announcement for boarding this time.

This lounge is SO COOL!! they have FREE ginseng soup, congee, and HAAGEN DAZS ice cream. Even though I feel a teensy bit out of place in my pajama pants and fleece in the midst of sharply dressed businessmen, I don't give a hoot. Clearly, I have arrived. Only 56mins left to enjoy this, so I'm not gonna waste my time blogging.

See you guys in Singapore!!!

Bolivia 1: We're back!

Man at visa counter: $110 USD for the visa, payable in Bolivianos.

Char and I: can we pay in USD?

Man: No, only Bolivianos.

Us: We don't have any Bs. We can pay $220 USD.

Man: It is *takes out calculator* 1540Bs.

- after security-escorted trip to money changer on the other side of Bolivian customs -

Us: here is 1540 Bs

Man: You can also pay in USD.

--- a little part of us dies ----

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The (brief) backstory of why we were in La Paz, Bolivia:

Me: I have one last trip to S. America, where should I go?

Eujin: Bolivia. It is weird and wonderful.

Unsuspecting Me: Ok!

****************

After the visa debacle, we attempt to check in for our flight to Rurrenabaque (gateway to Amazon rainforest). But no one was at the Amaszonas counter. We were starting to feel light-headed and nauseous from the altitude (LPB airport is at 13, 313 ft), so we went to a cafe for breakfast. It was 7AM. Our flight was scheduled for 11AM. 

A guy finally appeared at the counter, and said that it had rained the night before, so it was uncertain if it was safe to land on the dirt strip (aka runway) at Rurre.

The rest of the day passed in a drowsy blur, going something like this:

1. Feel dizzy. Sit down and fall asleep.

2. Wake up. Feel really good! Go to Amaszonas counter to talk to guy.

3. Guy says we have to wait. But maybe we will fly today.

4. Head starts to spin. Standing up is a bad idea. Grope my way back to seats.

5. Repeat from step 1.

2PM, the sun had apparently dried the runway enough that we would fly.

4PM, we got on the 19-seater twin propeller plane.

5PM, we landed in Rurre! Rurre reminds us of Malaysia/Indonesia/Guatemala. Dusty streets, chickens and motorcycles. But it's definitely a tourist town. There are many tour agencies, provision stores, and pizza bars.

6PM, we've booked a 3-day pampas tour with Fletcha tour agency

7PM, we've bought sunscreen, mosquito repellent, toilet paper, and water

8PM, we've had dinner, and think about going to bed. Picture below shows Charmaine in the fetal position, as she contemplates 2 more weeks in South America....

Leonard visits during Thanksgiving wkend

Leonard came by frm Thurs-Mon, so I brought him to places that I wanted to go to before I left the bay area...
On saturday, we went kayaking at Elkhorn Slough. It was awesome. Sometime between 2004 and now, the resident population of harbor seals and sea otters had been busy pro-creating, because it was even better than I remembered. Sea otters are really cute, especially when they're floating on their backs, munching on crabs and other delicacies from the river bed. Unfortunately, they tend to get scared and dive down when they see leonard enthusiastically paddling towards them on his kayak.

On the way back we stopped by the Gilroy factory outlets, to do our part for the US economy. They were having thksgiving sales, so stuff was cheaper but harder to find than usual.

The next day, we met Lennon and April in SF. We strolled down Haight st, walked into funky stores selling rubber chickens and staggeringly overpriced Japanese dolls, and had brunch at the Pork Store Cafe. The Cafe reminds me of Pete's Grill in Baltimore-- seating at the counter, staring in fascination while the cooks juggled hashbrowns, eggs, burgers, grits and pancakes on huge grills. We walked out replete, filled with food and kindness towards mankind. We also smelled like grease, but that's ok.
Next, we headed for the Sutro baths and the Land's End trail. It was a fabulous day-- great weather, amazing views of windswept cypress trees, ragged rocks, and SCARY waves. The trail was quite a trot. The first part was paved and full of families. The second part was less wheelchair-accessible, and definitely more quiet. 2 miles later we emerged at Eagles Point, next to beautiful and opulent houses. We walked back through city streets, with Leonard n Lennon discussing property prices and the impossibility of buying an apartment in SF.

Leonard's last day, we went to the San Jose Tech Museum. It was underwhelming. Too many kids, and not fun if you're over 12 yrs old. The 2 cool exhibits were 1) the robot that can draw you after taking a webcam pic; 2) the computer where you can design a rollercoaster ride, then 'ride' it in a stimulator. The best part of the trip was going back to Mt View and having ramen at Maru Ichi.

Beloved Ramen!
Thy scrumptious broth seeps inside
Bringing blissful thoughts

Stuff to do

I've been trying to keep busy. trying to sort stuff out.

My to do list:
1) decide on the plan for bolivia.
2) work on hfb website
3) enjoy the bay area
4) work on publishing those papers
5) check out possible labs in singapore
6) make my keystone poster
7) finish reading my books on the portrayal of women in the media in the 1960s, and green economics
8) get over my current QE obsession

so far, I have
1) made a list of possible labs
2) watched many drama serials
3) looked at random bolivian websites

conclusion-- supremely unproductive. I think i will make a good vegetable. no wonder i find myself gravitating towards those 10 pound bags of potatoes at the supermarket. clearly, i recognize them as kindred souls.


The darkness beckons.
Land of opportunity
or enticing trap?

Pearline is...

- watching the seconds tick away.
- listening to Bruises (by Chairlift) on repeat on youtube
- wondering whether I can just disappear
- very impressed by Tina Fey's impression of Sarah Palin
- in search of something that will silence the little voice inside my head
- lacking the motivation to do work
- wasting her time procrastinating while she could be somewhere over the rainbow
- clearly in need of drugs
- pink and black and blue

Everclear - Santa Monica

I usually don't post lyrics, but this song struck a chord.

----------------------------

I am still living with your ghost
Lonely and dreaming of the west coast
I don't want to be your downtime
I don't want to be your stupid game

With my big black boots and an old suitcase
I do believe Ill find myself a new place
I don't want to be the bad guy
I don't want to do your sleepwalk dance anymore
I just want to see some palm trees
Go and try and shake away this disease

We can live beside the ocean
Leave the fire behind
Swim out past the breakers
Watch the world die

I am still dreaming of your face
Hungry and hollow for all the things you took away

I don't want to be your good time
I don't want to be your fall-back crutch anymore

I'll walk right out into a brand new day
Insane and rising in my own weird way
I don't want to be the bad guy

I don't want to do your sleepwalk dance anymore
I just want to feel some sunshine
I just want to find some place to be alone

We can live beside the ocean
Leave the fire behind
Swim out past the breakers
Watch the world die

------------------------------

Why I like being home

- Being home = holiday = no work
- Being taken care of (and shamelessly taking advantage of it)
- Food, endless food

Leaving home for America always surprises me by the pang of.. um... homesickness? regret? despair?... that it evokes. Je ne sais quoi. But once I get back it disappears and I slip right back into the usual home-lab-home routine. So I know this reluctance is very temporary.

Luz is talking about marriage and looking at condos. I saw Gerry's kid at the class reunion. He is very cute. He runs around. And um.. Yirong's bf looks disturbingly like Tiannuo.

These past few weeks I feel like I've been living in a bubble-- I see and hear stuff going on outside, but I have this buffer zone. I observe but nothing seems quite real to me. Or it's like I'm at the zoo. I dunno.

I need to string together coherent sentences and thoughts, but am kinda mixed up now. Life will be better after Sept 2nd. It's a spectre that invades my consciousness and sub-consciousness and unconsciousness. I'm glad I'm going back to Stanford. I need to focus on work. Too many distractions.

I want to go home

cheesy but true. I always start to miss home about a year after my last trip. But this time there's a greater fatigue, I think. Maybe I just lack stamina... but the whole PhD thing has been an awfully long process... Ok. whatever. Will stop complaining.

Yesterday I volunteered to been an extra in the inde-documentary, the 'Qiu Jin Project'. It's about the life and deeds of Qiu Jin, 'China's first feminist' according to the website. So apparently she went around inspiring women to become independent, educated, and demand equality in the household. She also trains a 'woman army', which is where we came in. Filming was yesterday at Berkerley, and they sent emails to all the Bay Area wushu lists to ask for Asian women who know wushu to be part of this 'army'.

There were roughly 30 of us: young and not-so-young, beginners to advanced, at Tilden Park. The person who played Qiu Jin is Li Jing, formerly of the Beijing Wushu Team. She taught us a basic routine, which we then did for like, 20 takes. Then we did a sequence of 10 punches for roughly 15 takes. Then we sat around looking inspired and awed while she demo-ed a routine. (10 takes) Then we sat around looking thoughtful, confused and maybe slightly inspired and awed while she made a speech about how women should be independent (10 takes each for 2 speeches). The whole thing lasted frm about 9am - 2pm.

I've decided that being a movie star is not for me. And probably being a director/camera man/producer etc is also not for me.

Check out the movie trailer, and a Lijing demo reel:

Explosion

It's spring again. I know because my nose is blocked and my eyes are dry and itchy, I sneeze ALL THE TIME, and I generally feel like crap. The weather is gorgeous, the flowers are producing pollen like there's no tomorrow, and here I am, wanting to rip my eyes out to wash in a bowl of cool saline. And people wonder why I'm bitter and cynical.

xiao mei is off for break. clearly, the only bright spark in my life now is the roll of dark chocolate digestive biscuits sitting on my desk.


Just watched "Lust, Caution", the film directed by Ang Lee about the head of the Taiwanese secret service (Tony Leung) during the Japanese occupation, and a young student (Tang Wei) roped in by the resistance movement to become his mistress in order to spy on him and eventually help kill him. There's all this outrage about the film because it has some very graphic sex scenes. But after watching the show, I think that those scenes are actually necessary for plot development. Perhaps not quite as many? But at least some of them are needed. Because they demonstrate Tony Leung's dominating character, so that when Tang Wei tells her spy master to hurry up and kill Tony Leung because he is burrowing into her heart and soul, you see the empty look in her eyes, and you remember all the sex scenes, you just FEEL for this poor woman. And when the spy master simply leaves the room without ONE WORD of consolation or apology, both char and I were like "WTF!! What is WRONG with these men?"

*sigh*

Joanna was saying that women find it hard to divorce physical intimacy with emotional intimacy. Actually, I think it's probably true for most men too. Raul was telling me about his friend who was with this girl, but told Raul that it was 'just for the sex'--- but after 3 months he became all lovey-dovey and emotionally needy.


Haven't read much in a while. Am trying to take time off to write my thesis. So far, progress has been excruciatingly slow. No motivation. But today I met Nancy who defended in Dec and just turned in her thesis. And Serena has set her defense date for May.

WTF am I doing? I feel like I'm losing focus. It's hard to maintain focus because it's such a long process. I think: Ok, I need to do expt A, B and C. But expt A takes 1 month to set up (waiting for mice to breed), and 1 month to see results, and it's similar for expt B and C. so meanwhile I try to write, but I get distracted and depressed because it's taking so damn long.

I thought that maybe taiji will teach me to be calm. But I've done taiji for 3-4 yrs now and I don't think I'm any calmer than before.

Maybe Lena is right. We need to set up a thesis support group. I need someone to hold me accountable for my work. Define clear goals. 10 achievable steps to success.

1. Write chapter outlines. Decide roughly what figures and tables are needed where.

2. Plan out what other expts need to be done to fill in the blanks

3. Do the expts

4. Write chapter 2.

5. Write chapter 3.

6. Write chapter 4.

7. Write chapter 1 (intro)

8. Write last chapter.

9. Write abstract.

10. Proof read.

There! with these '10 Steps to Success', I CANNOT FAIL!!!

*mwuahahahahah*

Final day in Lima, and final thoughts about Peru

Our final full day in Peru! We're not sure what to do, and don't wanna spend any $$. From our hostel in Miraflores, we decide to walk 2km to see this adobe pyramid that the LP guidebook says is free. They LIED. It costs 7 soles. and looked really pathetic from the outside, so we didn't go in.

Instead, that afternoon we catch a bus to Lima Centrale. That was definately an experience. The main plaza was filled (as usual) with lovely colonial buildings. We were intrigued by the presence of a police armored vehicle with a water cannon mounted on its roof:


We also went to Chinatown. It was the most chaotic Chinatown I've ever seen. In my entire life. There were people EVERYWHERE. and half of them were trying to sell you underwear, skipping ropes, brooms... it was incredible. Also of note were the men with the big boobs and cute behinds:


*grin*

We had a good time exploring Chinatown. Not much else to say about Lima, apart from the fact that Chris, whom we first met on day 1 without his camera, is STILL at the Samay Wasi, waiting for his mother to send him a new one.


In summary, Peru was awesome. The food was generally good, the sights were spectacular, the people were friendly, and the entire south american vibe was weird and wonderful. Much thanks to JM, Jon, Bert and Char for coming along, and being great travel companions. (One observation about traveling with guys-- they are ALWAYS hungry. ALWAYS.)

I also got a deep dark tan, and nice rosy cheeks that last to this day.

My next trip: Bolivia! Details to follow next year. =).

Machu Picchu At Last!

The next morning, we woke up bright and early to buy our MP tix (a hefty 60 soles pax for students), and caught the first bus (5.30am) up to the site (round trip tix costs 36 soles -- this is turning out to be an expensive trip).

Upon entering the site, we dutifully take the first left turn as instructed by the guidebook, and emerge upon a terrace with the classic postcard view of Machu Picchu:


There! Isn't it pretty??? Note how the mountains behind kinda looks like the face of an Inca -- on the right is the forehead, the big one (Wayna Picchu) is the nose, followed by the lips and the chin. Cool, right?? At the time the picture was taken, the sun was still taking it's time to emerge from behind the surrounding mountains, so only Wayna Picchu is nicely illuminated. But when the sun came completely out, the view was even more spectacular.

We spent the next couple hours just exploring the site,


glorifying at the incredible stonework,


watching the free-roaming llamas that were grazing on the grass,


and climbing Wayna Picchu.


It was great. I was almost afraid of going because with such anticipation, you're setting yourself up for disappointment. But MP did not disappoint. It was every bit as beautiful and spectacular and wonderful as all the guidebooks and blogs and websites say it is. I mean, it's a charming stone-city set atop a hill, surrounded by awe-inspiring mountains. Just the sun reflecting off the buildings is cool. Add the lush surroundings and you've got a sure-winner. It's amazing to imagine the Incans living here, terracing the slopes, running off on the trail to other cities... btw, the rows upon rows of agricultural terraces make me dizzy. If you're an Incan suffering from vertigo, you're in big big trouble.

Then we took the bus back and looked for lunch. To our amazement and delight, all the restuarants at Aguas Calientes had cuy! Finally! They roast it in a stone oven, and it tastes pretty good. A little stringy (think tough village chicken) but I like the slight chewyness. Charmaine couldn't eat very much because she kept thinking of how cute they look when they were alive-- ironic because she was such a proponent of eating cuy in the first place.


Not much else to say about MP. The next morning we returned to Cusco, and the morning after flew back to Lima. One quick observation about the Cusco airport: it kinda worked like a bus terminal: We check in, and give them our bags. They staple number tags on your bag, put them on a cart, and bring it to the back of the office, which leads to.... the runway. It was a bit of a surprise. but we ended up safely in Lima, so all is well.

Cusco and the Sacred Valley

It was with great excitement that we set off for the last leg of our journey-- Cusco and Machu Picchu! MP, the legendary 'Lost City of the Incas', was my primary motivation for coming to Peru in the first place.

After an epic 9hr bus ride from Puno to Cusco (involving a bus driver who would stop for inordinately long and unexplainable lengths of time; loud latin music, all of which seem to be lamenting this woman named 'Mariesol'; lights that would flash on and off; a little girl that started playing footsie with me...), we finally arrive with our nerves shaken, but intact. We drop our bags off at the Pirwa Hotel at the Plaza de San Francisco (nice place, free internet, but barely any hot water in the evenings), and head to the Plaza des Armes for some chow.

Cusco is wonderfully quaint. Cobblestone streets, narrow roadways, beautiful plazas. Unfortunately, the Plaza is a huge tourist trap. We were immediately accosted by one heckler after another, promoting this bar, or that restaurant, promising free Pisco Sours, etc. Didn't help that it was 10pm, and there were hardly any tourists around except us. Still. We wanted to have guinea pig (cuy), but it takes 2 hrs to prepare, so we settled for a place that had alpaca meat. Alpaca is a llama relative. 100% alpaca wool feels like merino, but smoother, and is well worth the hefty price tag. Alpaca meat is very tender-- slightly more succulent than beef. But it has a slight gamy-ness, though not as strong as lamb. It reminds me of venison. I really liked it. *salivating at the memory*

The next day was Christmas eve! The entire stretch of Plaza de SF - Plaza des Armes became a huge fair/market. Vendors had little stalls as far as the eye could see, selling typical Christmas wares-- fireworks, fruit cake, brandy, and cute little animal figurines for DIY nativity scenes!!! There was also the usual tourist stuff. It was fun. We were very tempted to buy a fruitcake. None of us liked fruitcake... but we somehow felt this incredible peer pressure (?) to get one, since they were everywhere, and everyone seemed to be buying them. I am happy to report our success at resisting temptation. Instead, we bought our train tix to MP and took a collectivo taxi to Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley. (On the way, our driver made a stop at his home in Urubamba, so he could drop off some tires with his parents. We were told to hang out at the Plaza to take pictures...)


The next day, we decided to explore the ruins at Pisac. It's an Incan fortress perched on the hillside, and the entire site is way larger than MP. It was surprisingly fun to explore. The guys especially were scrambling up the omg-are-these-steps-or-crumbling-slides, going through the tunnels, climbing to the top of little outposts etc with evident enjoyment. Charmaine and I were pretending to be Incan guards on patrol, scanning the hills opposite and valley floor below for signs of invaders. It was great!!! We also met a German couple who had lived in Singapore for some years, and were delighted to once again meet *german accent*: "SING-GA-PORE GIRLS".


We search in vain for cuy (guinea pig) for lunch. After lunch, I finally ask a nice man if he's heard of these 'castles of cuy'. We follow his directions, and end up... HERE:


Oh Joy! They are so cute! And they make cute gobbledy noises! We're really upset that we didn't find this place before lunch, although how would we be able to eat roast cuy while sitting next to their adorable and alive brethren???

Ah well. We catch a bus back to Olly, passing towns that had multiple processions of maidens in white dresses and weird face masks, in celebration of Christmas (Navidad). ???

That evening we take the train to Aguas Calientes, the nearest town to MP.

Lake Titicaca and the Uros

Lake Titicaca is a huge freshwater lake, in the highlands (12,500ft!) between Peru and Bolivia. It is also home to the Uros people, who live on the lake, on floating islands made of totora reeds. While trawling the LP forum, I read a post by some guy who actually arranged to spend a night on one of the islands. After reading his enthusiastic review, we decided to contact Victor and Cristina, who run the setup. This led us to the most unique experience of our 2 weeks in Peru.

From Arequipa, we call Cristina to arrange pick up from the Puno bus terminal. We were met by Mariebelle, Cristina's daughter. In the taxi to the lake, I try to make conversation, but my spanish is woefully inadequate. Char was in the 2nd taxi so i was missing my translator.. We end up smiling a lot at each other. Mariebelle seems like a very happy person.

At the lake we were met by Victor, and his reed boat! He rows us to the island-- Isla Qhantati. Words fail to adequately express our wonder and joy at this moment. The reed boat is so cool! The sun was marvelous! Victor was wearing this cute woolen cap! And telling us about the lake and the ducks and the totora... He tells us that each boat takes 1 month to make, and uses many bundles of totora, and 200 plastic bottles (a modern innovation). They slowly soak up water, becoming harder and harder to row, and are retired after 18-24mths. We make a mental note to give them our water bottles before we leave the island.


After navigating through a maze of reeds, we arrive at the Uros village (?), and Isla Qhantati. The island is not very big-- maybe about 10 huts, housing 5 families. (when an island gets too small for the families, they simply make a new island) It's next to many other islands, all of them anchored to poles driven into the mud. The 'floor' is made of layers of totora, which is invitingly fresh, and springy to walk on. All the Uros walk around in bare feet, but Victor advises us to wear shoes, because some of the reeds can be sharp.


Victor tells us about the history of the Uros, about how they were fishermen, who traded with the other Andean tribes. However, when the Spanish came, half the tribe fled to Bolivia, and the other half decided to escape by living on the floating reed beds in the shallow part of the lake. They still make a living by fishing, and trade fish for other necessities at the market. However, they are now also doing the tourism thing to make money to send their kids to university. Victor proudly shows us the modern improvements they have made to Qhantati-- they have solar panels, a porta-potty (for the tourists), and a little garden made from composted reeds.

In the evening, after a delicious meal, we meet the extended family, who express their delight at meeting us. They sing us a traditional song in Aymara, about the sun, the lake, and the waters of their fathers, and also a song in Quechua about being happy that the sun is shining. They then launch into an impressive repetoire of songs that other guests have taught them, in spanish, english, french and german-- one of which is 'My Bonnie lies over the ocean'. It was quite surreal. We feel obliged to also share a song. In the end, we teach them a song in mandarin about 3 little mice, and a song in english about catching fish alive..... not quite a fair cultural exchange, I felt. Here we were learning about their amazing traditions, and the bond they have with the reeds and the lake, and the only thing we can offer them about our culture is a song about 3 mice.

*sigh*

The next day was equally fabulous and enchanting. Early in the morning we went out to harvest the fishing nets that were placed the afternoon before. Victor kindly let us 'help' untangle the fish from the net. He told us that the yellow-bellied ones were female, with more fat, which is good for the brain. Apparently the Uros children are fed a lot of this brain-food, so they become very smart. =)


When we got back Victor teaches us how to weave thread around small strips of totora to make a sun-pattern. The sun is one of the most important elements, and features heavily in their crafts and embroidery. We are extremely slow learners, but Victor is a patient man.

Lunch is truncha from their fish pond! Cristina removes the spine, and stuffs it with tomato, garlic and cilantro. It is then wrapped in aluminium foil, and baked in the sun. It is AMAZING.


Unfortunately, we had to leave for Cusco that afternoon, and could not enjoy more of Victor's and Cristina's hospitality. It was the most meaningful experience I had in Peru, and I would do it a hundred times over. Highly highly recommended. However, they don't speak much english. So if you have zero spanish ability, please go take a class or two before going, or beg a spanish speaking friend (thank you Charmaine) to come along.

Arequipa, and the Life-changing Colca Canyon

The bumpy bus ride from Nasca to Arequipa was not as wonderful as advertised. Bleary-eyed, we arrived sometime ard 7 or 8am, and checked into our hostel, the aptly named "Home Sweet Home". Indeed, this was the best hostel of the entire trip. For 20soles pax, we had: a private room for 5, free breakfast, free internet, and UNLIMITED HOT WATER. Oh the Joy!!! Never underestimate the moral-shattering ability of cold water.


We take a short nap, then go out to explore. The main plaza (Plaza des Armes) is extremely nice. There's a big cathedral on one side, and low colonial buildings on the other 3 sides. The square in the middle had a lovely fountain, nice trees and flowers, park benches, multitudes of pigeons... Charmaine was delighted to see that there was a protest going on. Many people were holding up banners... Didn't bring the dictionary, so don't know what the banners were saying... something about the judiciary(?) The protesters were also delighted to see us. When C went forward to take a picture of them, they shouted 'Chino!', and waved.


After lunch, we went 'shopping' for a Colca Canyon tour. The Colca canyon, which reaches depths of 3400 ft, is more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon (1600ft)! We choose a 2D/1N trek from a cute tour operator named Lady. She assured us that it would be an easy-moderate hike: the guide will pick us up at 1am, we'll take a 6hr bus ride to Cabanaconde (town on canyon rim), get breakfast. Hike down to the canyon floor takes 3hrs. After lunch, we'll meander ard the canyon floor, passing several villages. 3hrs later, we shd arrive at our final village, where we relax, have dinner, then sleep. Next morning we'll wake up at 3am, hike up the canyon (3-4hr) back to Cabanaconde.

At 1am, we wait expectantly for the guide.
At 2am, we give up waiting and go back to sleep
At 2.10am, we hear a knock on the door. It's Lady, our travel agent! Apparently the guide could not find the hostel, gave up, and left for Colca without us. Lady hustles us into a taxi, and gets us tickets for the next bus to Colca.

10am, we arrive at Cabanaconde. The guide (Anhil) is there with the rest of our group-- 2 Israeli girls (Maya and her sister A--). We start hiking down the Canyon. 2hrs later, we're still hiking down. Man... this canyon goes on Forever! We can see the bottom, but it's taking a heck of a long time to get there. Also, the path is often sandy and gravelly. And Bert and Char have bad knees. This is harder than we'd thought... Conversation became as thin as the air.


1pm, we reach the bottom! Yay. Now for a short but extremely steep section up to the lunch spot. But finally! Lunch! We are so tired. Lunch was a great onion-quinoa soup, followed by tofu with rice (apparently one of the Israelis is vegetarian and had requested a veg-menu). Quinoa is an important Andean grain, regarded as the "Mother of all grains" by the Incas. An extremely interesting page about quinoa can be found on wikipedia.

After lunch, we start hiking again. The canyon is pretty green and lush this time of year, and we see random vegetation, as well as fruit trees and maize. The trail gets pretty interesting-- we were hopping over streams, and walking through a field... Oops. In front of us was a massive gully. Er. The guide mutters something, then instructs us to wait in the field. Apparently we had missed a right turn, followed a cow-route, and were now in prime grazing property.

*sigh*

we retrace our steps, and were once again on the right path. we hit the gully again, but this time there was a steep trail leading down, and a dauntingly long n steep trail leading back up. wow. this trek is turning out to be a journey of epic proportions.

suffice to say we finally make it up, and walk for roughly another hour (downhill again!?! why can't these !$^#&* people make trails on level ground?) to the final village of the day. To top things off, it was rapidly getting dark, there were storm clouds above, and it started raining towards the end.

At the village we gratefully sank onto the beds provided, in little huts with dirt floors. Although the showers were COLD, I was just so grateful to be 1) clean and 2) not walking.

The next morning, we wake up at 2am to begin our ascent back into civilization. It is a steep trail with never ending switchbacks. Charmaine was really suffering through this. Her knees had taken a beating throughout the 3 hr descent the day before, she had flat feet so her arches were just dying with every step, she was tired, and we forgot to bring food for the way up (our luggage was being carried up by a mule that would start the ascent an hour later). Our superhuman guide must have been part mountain-goat, because he showed zero signs of fatigue.

When the mules started to overtake us, one of the guys offered us a ride up for 25 soles. Char gratefully accepted, and trouped off ahead. The rest of us trudged determinedly onwards. I'm not sure how all of us survived and made it up, but finally, one of the summits ahead was indeed the true summit (and not yet another evil imposter). As I emerged onto the plain above, the sun lighting the mountains in the distance with its magical alpen glow, the town where breakfast would be served clearly in sight... emotion welled in my chest.

Unfortunately, our guide managed to get us lost again on the way to breakfast. It was another 20mins to the Most Amazing hot tea, eggs, bread and jam that I have ever had the privilege of consuming.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. We went to the Cruz del Condor, but couldn't see any condors because of the heavy mist, then returned to Arequipa via the town of Chivay (pronounced 'chee-vai'-- this has disturbing similarities to a swear word in hokkien). But that day was also the day of our most amazing Peruvian shower, and our most delicious dinner (3kg of fried pork: chicharrón de chancho with our tour operator Lady).


We left Arequipa the next morning for the town of Puno, at Lake Titicaca.