The Enterprise! (04.02.07-Edited to Include Photos!)

No, the title does not refer to our adventure in general. The Enterprise is, in fact, our own personal spaceship (though I still think it needs a good nickname!). We're on the second night of the spaceship, and it is a lot of fun. No tent to set up, lots of freedom. It's basically a minivan revamped to include a bed, small two-burner propane stove, small cooler and some storage under the mattresses. It is pretty ingenious for people who want to hit the road in cozy quarters without the stress of driving a true campervan! Though it is cozy--we're glad there are two of us, though they can hold four. Yikes!


Tyler, Enterprise Commander Extraordinaire


The Enterprise ready for DVD viewing and Sleep


Our cozy quarters

Another fun thing about the spaceship is it's a little like you've joined a little club--we've had a few other spaceship sightings, and there's always lots of waving and light-flashing, which makes for fun moments on the road.

Yesterday, we went to Waitomo Caves, about 2 1/2 hours south of Auckland. In Maori, Waitomo means "running under water," and the area is full of caves. We took one tour of the Glowworm Caves. Glowworms are strange creatures. They only live in New Zealand and four states of Australia, they live about 11 months, most of the time spent as a pupae, and once they become a full-fledged insect, they live for 1-5 days, mate, die and serve as food for other pupae. But they are fascinating! They glow in order to attract water bugs that wander into the caves. The bugs get attracted by the glowing lights, thinking that it's the way back out, but instead they get trapped in the multitude of mucus strings that the glowworms "spin" to catch their prey. I have to admit, when we entered the Glowworm Grotto, I could see the allure. The glowing lights above our head looked like a little milky way, with the green bioluminescent glow.

The caves themselves were worth a trip in and of themselves as well. We got to see lots of stalagtite and stalagmite formations. One room, called the Pipe Organ, was especially impressive, with a whole column of formations that did look like its namesake.

Unfortunately, to protect the glowworms and the limestone formations, no pictures were allowed, so I'll have to hope my words prove descriptive enough!

Heaven--an Island with 26 Wineries

Yesterday, we left Auckland and took a morning ferry to Waiheke Island. It's a small island 35-minutes from the city with beaches and 26 wineries. We arrived with the intention of catching a bus to the main hostel on the island. We got off in the main town, Oneroa, only to realize when we had gotten off the bus that we actually wanted Onetangi, another 25 minutes further down the road. And the buses only run once an hour when the ferries arrive. Fortunately, there was an i-Site just around the corner from the bus stop. I-Sites are amazing resources--we booked our spaceship through them, they'll give you advice on where to go, book hotels, give you maps and information. In short, they are a traveller's dream, and they are friendly and helpful and don't try to pressure you into other activities or more expensive things.


Auckland Skyline from the Ferry

At the i-Site, the nice woman suggested that rather than sitting around for the next bus, we could leave our bags there and walk to two nearby wineries, including one that had been highly recommended by our friends, JJ and Piper, who left us the goodie bag (see Tyler's entry below!). So, 35 pounds or so lighter, we started walking. First stop was Cable Bay Vineyards. For $5, we got to taste seven delicious wines. The island is known for producing good red grapes (cabernet, cab franc, merlot) and chardonnay, so most the wineries get grapes from Marlborough (on the south island) to make Sauvignon Blanc. Cable Bay is relatively new to the scene, started in 1996 and the tasting room and restaurant just opened a few months. Loosened up with some tasty wine, Tyler and I decided to treat ourselves to a delicious lunch (snapper and steak) from their modern-style dining room with a fantastic view. After lots of "self-cooking" at our Auckland hostel and plenty of mediocre food in general, it was fantastic.

After that, we walked a little further up the hill to Mudbrick Vineyard for another $5 8 wine tasting. Unfortunately, we weren't as wowed by these wines, but it was still fun.

We made our way back to the i-Site, passing by rows of grapes, views of the Bay and Dwell-worthy modern homes to find that our friendly helper had not yet (nor the previous day) been able to reach the hostel. We decided that since we'd be living on the road for the next few weeks that we would treat ourselves to a B&B, Tawa Lodge, for our two nights here. With great views and close access to town and a beach, we happily settled in for the evening.


Little Oneroa Beach, just down the road from our B&B


Exploring Tidepools at Little Oneroa Beach

Today we got up and decided to hit more wineries--four in all, including the best one we've had, Stonyridge. The prices matched, with their best Bordeaux-style wine costing $200 a bottle. But the wines we had (a Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Viognier, Morvedre, Pinot Noir, Bordeaux-style red and a Rhone-style Red) were fantastic, and the guy serving us was enthusiastic and informative.


View of Putiki Bay from Goldwater Estate Winery

Waiheke has been a great vacation from travelling. We thought Tahiti might serve that purpose, but there were enough difficulties and a short enough time that it wasn't as relaxing as we had hoped. Being here feels more like taking a "trip" than "travelling." Though it's only been four days since we've arrived, I've been really charmed by New Zealand already. People are friendly and helpful, and the culture is really focused on the environment--rain water collection, worm composting toilets, dual-flush toilets, plenty of recycling, billboards promoting reducing your personal carbon emissions, and last night--on primetime TV--there was a show called "Wasted," all about reducing waste (energy, water, and just the usual solid trash waste) with young people sharing a house. And people think renting a campervan for a few weeks is the best way to see the Island.

While I'm happy we'll have more exotic--and challenging--adventures ahead of us, I think this is going to be a nice month or so.

Oh--and another note for any regular readers--we're guessing that being on the road and the more rural South Island might lead to less frequent posting. But we still hope to check in every so often and post lots of pictures!

So, I knew I forgot something...

So, when I made my last post, I had a bunch of stuff I wanted to talk about... but proceeded to blank on about half of it. And then I padded my entry out with made-up vocabulary. Anyhow, here's what I really wanted to mention:

So, our friends JJ and Piper were in New Zealand recently. In fact, they were here so recently, that they flew out of the Auckland airport just a couple hours before we flew in. Before that, we had exchanged emails with them in order to get some advice on the "do"s and "don't"s of New Zealand. At the end of their last email, they told us rather cryptically to "we will leave you a little something something at the iSite in the international terminal in auckland. check behind the "City Life Hotel" pamphlets in the Auckland hotels section."

iSites are New Zealand's super-useful tourist offices that are scattered in most heavily touristed areas.

So, when we arrived at the airport Sarah and I made our way quickly through customs and to the airport's iSite. After a short seach, we found a note jammed behind the City Life Hotels brochures telling us to go and the Auckland City Life hotel and ask the concierge for a package from JJ and Piper.

Then, after we arrived in downtown Auckland, we were pleased to find the City Life Hotel just around the corner from our hostel. And, at the concierge's desk, we received a pack filled with Cliff bars, sun screen (very useful, since we had just run out in Tahiti), a map of New Zealand, some antibiotic cream and a list of "JJ and Piper's Top Ten Things to Do in New Zealand." So, thanks to JJ and Piper for the gift pack and advice. And, thanks for giving us and entertaining and welcoming start to New Zealand!

Between that, and the confusing signs on the Coast to Coast Walk, Auckland was a regular scavenger hunt!

I can't imagine how Sarah or I could have gotten lost while on the Coast to Coast Hike.

Finally, even though Sarah is going to get you all caught up on the last day or two, I thought I'd mention that now that we've gotten away from the city, I've found that I really, really enjoy talking to New Zealander's. Their easy going approach and friendly conversation style have made even the most mundane interactions enjoyable. Earlier today, Sarah and I were getting on teh bus, and after talking to the bus driver, I found myself thinking "it was really enjoyable talking to the bus driver."

I'd probably even enjoy going to the Department of Motor Vehicles here (or, at least, the NZ equivlant).

As most of you know, New Zealand is known for its X-Treme™ sports. So, here's a picture of probably the closest Sarah or I will come to bungee jumping, etc.

We're hiring a Spaceship!

So Sarah and I decided to hire a Spaceship today...

No, not a Spaceship like this! We're hiring a Spaceship like this!

Early on in our trip planning, we'd decided that we wanted to rent a car while in New Zealand and basically make a big long road trip down the length of it. But recently we'd become concerned about the cost of both renting a car for three weeks and paying for hotels and hostels. Then we found out that you can rent camper vans for cheap in New Zealand, and our problems were solved! We'll still have to pay fees at camp sites, but they'll be nominal in comparison to the hostel and hotel costs. Plus, the Spaceship comes with a built in BBQ, chiller, pots and pans and even a DVD player... so we'll be cutting other expenses back at the same time. And it'll allow us to get away for the cities a bit and spend some time hiking and exploring the wilderness which had always been another big goal for this leg of our trip.

We are very excited!

But we actually don't pick up our Spaceship until Thursday. We spent today exploring Auckland, and tomorrow we catch a ferry to Waikehe Island. There, we'll spend a couple of days relaxing, hiking and taking tours of the 24 wineries on the island. Sounds like a rough way to spend a couple of days, no?

Today, though, we actually managed to beat ourselves up a bit. We decided to do a 16 kilometer (about 10 miles) hike through Auckland. It was called the Coast to Coast trail. Auckland basically sits on a thin isthmus on the Northern end of New Zealand and the trail stretches from one side to the other. Along the way, it climbs several of the ancient volcanic hills, cuts through numerous parks and college campuses and provided us with a great way to see a lot of the city quickly.

It also made our feet very, very sore.

My initial impression of New Zealand (or at least Auckland), is that it reminds me a bit of a trip to Vancouver. It's got that "same but different" vibe to it, where the language, culture and city have a lot of similarities to Seattle (lots of water and green space, lots of Asian influences, laid back and hip feel), but it's also got a ton of little differences that suddenly jump out at you. Things like the accents, the money, the warmer climate or just the fact that they drive on the other side of the road (something that will be a bit more of an issue on Thursday). But, at the same time, it's interesting seeing the parrallels between this part of the world and my own home town.

Sorry I don't have pictures to share with you all though; we spaced out (probably thinking about our Spaceship or bemoaning or sore feet) and left our camera back in our room at the hostel. So, to make up the lack of pictues, I'll share a random new vocab work that Sarah and I have made up while on the trip:

Escudoed - (Es-coo-doed) VERB.
1. To drink large amounts of cheap Chilean beer. Particularly while sitting on plastic furniture in front of a divey looking bar. Usage example: "Let's not go there, everyone looks completely Escudoed."

Escudo is a Chilean beer of questionable quality. And while back in Santiago, Sarah used the exact sentence above while we were walking past a bar that always seemed jam-packed with Chilean youths starting at about noon. Since she coined the usage, it's quickly become a new favorite vocab word. I thought some of you back home might enjoy it.

OK, time to quit rambling!

Photo Catch Up: Bolivia and Chile

We didn't get to these in Santiago (ironically, we found it harder to do many things in the big city than we did in tiny towns in Peru and Bolivia). And then internet was too expensive in Easter Island and Tahiti (prices have ranged from US 30 cents an hour in Peru to $10 an hour in Tahiti). So here are some of the things we raved about in the past month.

Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca:





The motley crew on the Bolivian Tour (look in the rearview mirror) and pictures of the Salar de Uyuni:









Our first Bolivian Altiplano Lake and flamingos!





The broad barrenness of the Altiplano:




A volcano smoking in Chile seen from Bolivia:



Lago Colorada and Lago Verde:





The colorful hills and houses of Valparaiso, Chile:



When flying into New Zealand this morning, the immigration form asked which countries we'd been to in the last 30 days. It was sort of amazing to realize we're already on our fifth country (Peru, Bolivia, Chile and French Polynesia) in about six weeks. Hopping between three countries (and three time zones) in one week was a little intense. We're looking forward to being in one place for a chunk of time again.

Unplanned Island Life

Harold Crick: What is wrong with you? Hey, I don't want to eat nothing but pancakes, I want to live! I mean, who in their right mind--in a choice between pancakes and living--chooses pancakes?

Dr. Jules Hilbert: Harold, if you pause to think, you'd realize that that answer is inextricably contingent upon the type of life being led... and, of course, the quality of the pancakes.

I'm not even that huge of a fan of pancakes but the quote above stuck with me after watching the movie Stranger Than Fiction on our LanChile flight from Santiago to Easter Island.

Actually, after our four weeks in South America, there was something almost relaxing about the flight in general. Six hours of immersing ourselves in on-flight movies and dinner hobby-kits. LanChile is the type of airline that proves that air travel can still be comfortable and emphasizes how off track most domestic airlines are. Heck, their silverware is still metal.

I know that Sarah is excited to tell you all about Easter Island (which was a truly wonderful experience), so I'll go ahead and fast forward to Tahiti. But I will mention one thing: If you are ever hoping to watch a dramatic sunset behind a line of Moai on the beach... just make sure there are no female dogs in heat present. Having two male dogs begin fighting next to you is less than a romantic.

Beyond that little note, I'm sure that everything that Sarah says is 100% accurate. The entire island was amazing and it was truly one of the highlights of our trip. Anyhow, on to Papeete (pronouced Pah-pee-aye-te, not Pah-pete)...

Papeete, Tahiti

There's nothing quite like the sensation of arriving at midnight on an unfamilar tropical island with no hotel reservations, no cash in hand, no guide book and the knowledge that even "cheap" hotels are often over $200 a night. And that was exactly the situation Sarah and I found ourselves in as we made our way off the plane, onto the tarmac, past the eukelele players, and into Papeete's airport.

Luckily, we had heard rumors of a new airport hotel and figured we'd try our luck there. And, even more luckily, it turned out to be across the street from the airport and reasonsably priced. Ok, so the room still cost about ten times what our typical room in South America cost, but it had a comfortable bed, decor that could have passed for an Ikea showroom, and (most importantly) a hot shower. After three days of sweating on Easter Island, we were getting pretty stinky, and it was nice to feel clean again... even if we knew that we'd be instantly covered in sweat again as soon as we left the safe confines of our air-conditioned room.

The next morning, we cleaned up, got some money from the bank--thank goodness for those emergency travellers cheques--at the airport (which seemed to also serve as a sort of defacto shopping center), and hopped onto a bus into downtown Papeete. In Papeete, we made our way to the one cheap hostel we'd read about in town: Hostel Teamo (pronounced Tey-ah-mo, not Team-o).

Teamo had rooms available, but unfortunately, only dorm rooms. This was doubly unfortunate, because it was seperate dorms for males and females, effectively making it the first night Sarah and I had spent apart since the trip began. But, then again, the beds were less than half the price of the Airport Hotel, so who are we to complain.

After ditching our bags, Sarah and I swung by the Tourist Information Center, than caught a bus to the other side of the island. The bus ride (which was maybe 45 minutes long) reinforced the fact that the rest of the world considers sometime around the year 1984 to be the apex of American Music. From this point on, I will always think of Tahitian bus rides whenever I hear "You're The One That I Want" off the Grease soundtrack.

On the far side of Tahiti, Sarah and I checked out the Gauguin Musuem, which didn't actually feature any of his work, but instead talked about the artist's interest in Tahit and his life on the island. After that, we wandered over to a botanical garden across the street, which turned out to be a pleasant surprise featuring not only an amazing array of plant life, but also two tortoises from the Galapagos. After strolling through the garden for about an hour, we made our way to a nearby snack shop where we had a beer and sat on a deck overlooking the ocean.

Me at the botanical garden.
A tortoise at the garden.


Little did we know that, while watching the ocean, we were also missing the last bus back to Papeete. Drat!

Luckily, Sarah was able to talk to a woman driving a tour van and arrange for us to get a ride back into town for half the price of the tour (the tour itself was only halfway done, so it seemed fair). So when the two other middle-aged couples on the tour returned to their van from the musuem, they were probably shocked to find Sarah and I sitting in the back seat, stinking of sweat and beer, and basking in the vans air conditioning. They were all pleasant enough though, and the tour stopped at an amazing grotto that Sarah and I would have missed otherwise.

Oh, and have I mentioned the air conditioning on the bus? Tahiti is hot. And humid.

Back in town, Sarah and I decided to eat at the Roulottes. The Roulottes are about a dozen vans that set up shop in a parking lot on the wharf each night and sell a variety of dinner options ranging from crepes to Chinese food. Probably at no other place on Tahiti is the juxtoposition of Tahiti's combined French and Polynesian histories more apparent than on the menus of the Roulottes. Sitting at a plastic table, on a wharf, with fish and veal cooking on BBQs around you and French-lyric pop music filling the air is a unique experience. Though one that also reminded us of the the sort of impromtu community fair that seemed to arise in the central plazas of towns like Pisco, Peru, each night.

The Roulottes

Tahitian vanilla ice cream at the Roulottes

After dinner, the heat and time change caught up with us, and we called it an early night and retired to our seperate dorm rooms.

The next day, we woke up early and caught a catamaran ferry to Moorea, the closest neighboring island to Tahiti. While Tahiti and its port town of Papeete is more bustling and developed than one would expect, Moorea looks more like the Polynesian island one might expect to see on a postcard: white sand beaches, palm trees and steep volcanic mountains rising to misty peaks.

Arrising in Moorea (with a slightly seasick Sarah), we hopped a bus to the far side of the island, where we heard the best beaches were. And, roughly 40 minutes later, we were finally lying in the sand and splashing in the bathtub warm waters of the South Pacific. Bliss!

Finally!

After lounging on the beach for several hours, we made our way back to the bus stop, where we ran into one of the other girls from Sarah's dorm: Mandy. Mandy is a UW student (pretty much every American we've run into on this trip seems to be from Seattle. I'm convinced that only Seattlites travel abroad), who arrived late the previous night after flying straight from Paris to Papeete. She was basically on a one day lay over, before heading to Auckland for a quarter of studying abroad. She seemed even more confused and lost than us (it was her first trip abroad, and her first time travelling alone after leaving friends in Paris), so we quickly became fast friends with her on the bus and ferry trip back to Papeete.

Back in Papeete, we decided to go shopping for black pearls. Because of the black sand beaches that surround Tahiti, the pearls there are a unique black color. And, since we were in Papeete, Tahiti, black pearls are available at an extra cheap price.

Sarah had hoped to buy one as her one big luxury purchase of the trip.

So, with Mandy in tow, we went to a pearl shop so Sarah could pick out the pearl of her choice. Soon, she'd settled on a single pearl in a simple silver necklace. Mandy, also swiftly lured by the siren song of the black pearls, picked out a similar necklace.

Sarah and Mandy covetting black pearls at the market (also note that they both got a little sun that day).

Unfortnately, when it came time to actually buy them, our bank card was denied. Several increasingly desperate phonecalls to the bank later, it was determined that our card had been put on hold because the bank had grown suspicious of all the purchases made abroad. This was even more frustrating to us because on three seperate occasions before leaving I'd told the bank that we would be travelling for the next seven months. The fraud department in turn explained to us that we needed to call them ever 30 days to notify them that we were still traveling, or else we'd have this happen to us every month. Unfortunately, our calling card expired before we could get the card reactived.

Here's what WaMu didn't seem to want to give us -- the colorful money of French Polynesia.

Luckily for us, disaster was averted when Mandy offered to pay for Sarah's pearl on the condition that we pay her back by the time we reached Auckland. So, in the end Sarah got her black pearl; and later we were able to reactive our cards and get Mandy her money.

So, in short, Mandy is a hero. And Washington Mutual is lame.

After all the pearl purchasing drama (which also involved a procession of cars driving past us decorated for a wedding and all blaring their horns as Sarah tried to talk on a pay phone), we decided to celebrate by all going to grab dinner at the Roulottes again.

Then, after dinner, we returned to our hostel (where Sarah and I got transfered to our own private room. Yay!) and got to bed early. The next morning, the three of us all had to get up at 4am to catch out flight to Auckland. Unfortuantely, the only bus we encountered seemed to be overflowing with late night partiers from the previous night and couldn't fit us and our backpacks. So, after standing on the curb for several minutes, a pickup pulled up and offered us a ride.

Now, in hindsight, hopping in the back of a stranger's pickup at four in the morning probably doesn't sound like the smartest move on the planet. But, after a quick and breezy ride to the airport, it seemed like the perfect end to the crazy, haphazard, but ultimately enjoyable and fortunate two days on the island of Tahiti.

Maruru Tahiti!

Emerging from the South Pacific

Today, Tyler and I arrived in Auckland, New Zealand. It's a little strange to be somewhere so...familiar....and easy. Signs are in English and things look more or less like they do at home or Canada. We're using a few days in Auckland to catch up on travelling 'housekeeping'--laundry, blog entries, and such. And there's much to catch up on! And with pictures we actually took! (For a better view, double click the photos to enlarge them.)

We arrived late on Easter Island to step out of the plane onto a humid tarmac and our host waiting for us with beautiful flower leis. After a short ride with others at our hostel in the back of a pickup truck (along with our luggage), we settled in, not quite sure where exactly we were, but ready to experience the island and the moai the next day.



Tyler still contends that one of his favorite moments of our three days on Easter Island was that first morning. After waking up with the heat and roosters crowing, we decided to wander about for a few minutes before breakfast. Since we'd arrived at in the dark, we didn't really have a sense for where our hostel was in relation to anything else. So we walked to the road, realized we were only two blocks from the ocean and could see downtown Hanga Roa (the only town on the island) as well as our first set of moai that are close to town.



We decided to rent a car that day to make our way around the island. While it's fairly small, it's not walkable, and the main moai sites range all across the island. Because it was a manual, Tyler got to do all the driving on many bumpy, off-road feeling roads. You can tell he minded terribly:



We started driving up the eastern coast in a counterclockwise fashion, until we stumbled upon our first overlook. We pulled the car over, mostly to look at the coast, when all the sudden, I noticed that the boulders I saw were in fact pukao, or the topknots that some moai have on their heads. Then Tyler noticed that we were also looking at a set of knocked over moai.



Though I had heard that seeing the knocked over moai might seem anticlimactic after some of the more spectacular restored moai, I actually found them quite moving. The first book I read on the trip was Jared Diamond's Collapse, which chronicles the falls of various societies, including Easter Island. Basically, the Cliff's Notes version is that the Easter Islanders first started building the ahu, or raised platforms for burial and ceremonial purposes. Then they started erecting the stone figures, or moai. At some point, the six societies on this small island started trying to outdo the moai building with each other, used all their energies and natural resources to this purpose, knocked other tribes' moai over, until they basically collapsed. Knowing all this made the fallen moai seem that much more tragic.

We had also heard and read that eventually you find yourself just tripping over ruins and moai, which was totally true. At every turn, you could see all rock walls, house foundations, circular walls used for agriculture, ahu and the moai and pukao.

One of the most amazing places we visited was called Rano Rarako, aka the "nursery." All the moai were carved out of the same volcanic stone from one place on the island. When the civilization petered out, there were more carved and partially carved moai on this volcano than there are on the entire island. It was really an incredible site.



And they are massive. It's hard to appreciate their size, but we tried to catch their looming quality in this photo. In the next, at a nearby site where a Japanese corporation helped re-erect the largest stand of moai, I'm the small pink dot in the center.





It seemed very strange and amazing to be surrounded by the reminders of a civilization that had nearly disappeared. As I mentioned, there is one town on the island, where really everything is. No homes, hostels, gas stations, anything on the rest of the island. Just remains and lots and lots of wild horses. Here are two more moai pictures:





On our second day, we decided to do some exploring on foot and headed up to an old volcano on the southeast end of the island. It had a huge crater lake and is a significant site for the birdman cult on the island.



While I expected the anthropologist in me to be blown away by the moai and cultural artifacts, the nature-hiker in me also was in awe of the volcanic geology and landscape. On a hike we found down from the crater lake, we encountered tons of amazing coastline, with bright aqua water next to black, craggy rocks. There are also lots of lava tube caves, places where rock solidifed around flowing lava and other beautiful and strange rock formations.





I really can't say enough good things about our experience on Easter Island. While some people at our hostel found it a little quiet for their tastes, I would have been really happy to have had an entire week there, to continue exploring the coast, enjoying the two white sand beaches, and just soaking in the island. I'd have to say it's been the high point of our trip for me so far.

Oh, and here's probably my favorite picture of Tyler from the trip yet.

Iorana! (Or hello, in Polynesian-speak.)

We are on Easter Island, and it is fantastic. The moai are amazing, the geology is incredible and we love it. But we don't love the expensive per-hour internet charges, so we'll be sure to wax rhapsodic, probably post-Tahiti.

We've had two days to explore, wander and stare in awe, and one day tomorrow until flying to Papeete, French Polynesia, for a quick two-day, three-night Tahitian adventure. We'll fill you in soon!

Something in the Air.

So, apparently, Sarah is allergic to Santiago. As our bus made the hour and half long trip from Valpariso, Sarah rapidly grew more and more congested. The last couple of days she´d been flirting with a cough, but as our bus raced pass the vineyards surrounding Santiago, she found herself increasingly sneezing, and her nose grew congested.

The last day in full Valpariso had been a pleasant one. We had awoken early, and taken the commuter train to Vin Del Mar, just a couple hours north. Vin Del Mar had proven to be a bit underwelming though. It´s a tourist beach town, and unfortunately it proved long on the cheapo gift stands and the beaches didn´t seem to be calling our name. So, after a pleasant walk around a large park, we caught the train back.

Back in Valpariso, we made the hike up a nearby hill to look at an old cememtary. Then, after some debate, we caught a funicular back up onto our hill. We´d be avoiding riding it, because we thought the people who lived on the hill were boycotting it because the fares had been increased. But, on the other hand, we were tourists in Valpariso... we were there to ride funiculars. And, I mean, just look at it, it wants us to ride it! Its begging us to ride it.

In the end, it turned out there wasn´t even a boycott... so we happily rode it up the hill. Joy!

That night, we spent the evening in the Vinilo Cafe (at least I think that was the name), raeding, drawing and sipping wine. Followed by a late night dinner in a tapas restaurant down the hill.

The following morning, we rose early, ate breakfast, caught a public bus to the bus station (which we were quite proud of ourselves for), and then hopped on a bus to Santiago.

Arriving in Santiago, with a very stuffy Sarah, we caught several very congested subway cars to Barrio Brazil, a neighborhood I´d stayed in the last time I was in Santiago, and the neighborhood that Lonely Planet referred blissfully to as a "bohemian enclave." Frankly, the last time I was there, I wasn´t blown away, but figured I´d give it another chance.

After checking into our hotel, we set out on what I would eventually dub a "death march," to cehck out Barrio Brazil. Eventually, tired and a little disillusioned (thus the term "death march"), we ended up in a corner bar, where we had some beer and swore we´d more to another neighborhood tomorrow.

After probably drinking too much beer, we needed food and tooled down the street to another restraunt. At the restaurant, we split a dinner who´s name escapes me now, but which could safely be called the Chilean Gut Bomb™. Let me describe it: First take a plate and put a heaping pile of fries on it. Not, cut up a steak, and put that on it. Then cut up a hot dog, and a chorizo sausage, and put that on top of the steak. Finally, fry a couple eggs, and stick those on top of the whole thing.

Literally.

It makes late night Denny´s food look positively healthy.

Then we went and got ice cream. We´re decedant like that.

The next morning, we made good on our pledge and relocated to a hostel in Barrio Bellavista. Greener and hipper at the same time, we agreed imediately that it was a beter neighborhood. Unfortuantely, Sarah´s allergies were still wrecking havok on her, and she spent the afternoon in bed while I took care of some odd chores.

That evening though, we took the funicular to the top of the hill in Parque Metropolitano, where we could properly watch the sun set on the sprawl of Santiago. Tres romantic... even with the occasional sneeze. We then ended the day at El Caramaño, a traditional Chilean restaurant that served food which was a little better perpared than the previous nights grease-fest.

Today, Sarah was able to wrangle some control over her sinuses with the help of her allergy medication, so we set out on a full day. First, we took a very long subway (metro) drive our to one of the Concha Y Toro Winery. There we got to tour the ground, see the cellars and taste some wines. At first, I almost through a mild temp-tantrum because we though we´d missed the English language tour. But, when our tour guide found out we didn´t speak Spanish,he gave us an English tour on the side. Yay for awesome tour guides. Boo for Tyler´s pouting.

Heading back into Santiago after the tour and tastings, we stopped at a super market and bought sandwiches, bananas and raspberry juice for a picnic at Cerro San Lucia in the center of Santiago. Cerro San Lucia is a small hill with an old monestary and fort on it, that has been turned into the park.

Last time I came to Santiago, I explored the park on my own, where I was amazed at the number of teenagers making out on every bench and green patch of lawn. In South America, most people live with their parents until they get married. So, its much more common to see young couples making-out in parks, bars, restaurants, etc, since that´s the easiest way for them to get some "privacy."

Anyhow, last time I was in Santiago, I remember thinking to myself while I was at Cerro San Lucia: "If that girl I just started dating, Sarah, was here, I´d totally make out with her here!" And now, three years later (and thanks to the wonders of allergy medicine) I was able to make that dream a reality.

Now its early evening in Santiago, and its also St. Patrick´s Day, so in a little bit, I think we´ll go out and get some food, and then maybe see if Santiago has any Irish Bars. Then, tomorrow, we say goodbye to South America and head off for the next leg of our trip!!

Peru Photos!

If you notice, this entry has no "Tyler Reporting" or "Sarah Reporting" graphic... because this is both of us working together on this post. We´ve got all our photos from Peru transfered onto a couple disks, so now we thought we´d upload a few here for all your viewing enjoyment.

This is far from all the photos we´ve taken, but we thought you´d all still like to see some pictures from our misadventures so far. (Click on the photos to see them enlarged.)


Here we are, at 4:30 AM, about to depart on our adventure!


Sarah appreciating some frescoes at the Santa Catalina Monastary in Arequipa.


Fruit stands at the market in Arequipa. Sarah´s heaven!


Plaza de Armas in Arequipa. We were having a beer in a restaurant high above it. We´ve really enjoyed the plazas in all the cities we´ve visited.


Tyler in a side street in Cusco. All the moderns buildings in this part of town were built on top of Incan walls.


The plaza in Cusco. Everything in Cusco seemed so epic.


Tyler kneeling on top of the watch tower in Pisac. Notice that he´s proudly wearing his alpaca wool cap that he got for about $4.


Tyler kneeling in front of some other ruin... we forget its name... Machu something?


Sarah appreciating the view.


An old woman carrying her bundle down a path toward a rock arch on Isla Taquile, on Lake Titicaca.

That´s it for now. But, in the future we´ll try to be better about uploading photos. With any luck, we´ll have some pictures of Bolivia and Chile before we leave the continent on Saturdsay.

Developed World Amenities Help Us Catch Up On Our Blog

Re-entering the developed world is both shocking (prices seem outrageous) and, to be honest, a little bit comfortable (almost all the bathrooms are pretty nice). So it was back in Chile after our bus ride from the Bolivian border. We were back to paved roads, beer selections, trendy-seeming restaurants, and high prices. We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama, a town we knew absolutely nothing about except that we would be able to get a bus to Santiago. After being on the road for what felt like nearly five days straight, though, we wanted a little R&R. We had built in time for things to go wrong in Bolivia--a bus to break down, a tour to not be available, something--but nothing happened, so we had a few extra days on our hands. So we decided to treat ourselves with the 16 hour bus ride to La Serena, a coastal town about two-thirds of the way down Chile rather than the 23 or so hour ride straight to Valparaiso or Santiago.

Probably due in part to reading a great work of nonfiction about the American Dust Bowl (The Worst Hard Times) during an early part of the trip, much of Peru and Bolivia reminded me of what much of America probably looked like not that long ago--lots of agriculture, people in sod or underground houses until they could build, literally, up, ramshackle cities. However, much of Chile so far has reminded us of California--with the coast, the somewhat arid climate, profusions of flowers, wine (though we have not experienced as much of that yet as we'd like), horses. Oh, and a flag that is disconcertingly like the the Texas flag....

Chilean Flag:


Texas Flag:


La Serena was our first trip not on our itinerary. Before we left, Tyler and I created a folder full of only the travel book pages we'd need, because you just can't possibly carry that many travel books. For most of the trip, this meant cutting out the country sections from a regional book (e.g., Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia from SE Asia) but I had cut more drastically for our first and most planned out leg, meaning we had no information about La Serena. In some ways it was nice. I had just read a chapter in Alain de Botton's book, The Art of Travel, talking about the 'tyranny of travel guides' which I was beginning to feel. You're supposed to see these things, appreciate them in these degrees of excitement, turn left now, etc. It felt a bit liberating to just have a bad map from our hostel owner and the run of a town.

La Serena isn´t that exciting in and of itself. It has a main square, as most South American towns do, where Tyler almost got himself caught in the middle of a dog fight, a lighthouse, some OK beach, and an anachronistic Japanese garden that is actually quite peaceful and pleasant. But it's good to end up in a town with little or nothing to do when you need some rest and relaxation. I, for one, had hit a bit of a travel low after 3+ weeks, where nothing sounded very interesting and I just needed a bit of a break to regroup and regain some enthusiasm. La Serena did a pretty good job of that. We did a little bit of walking, a little bit of grocery shopping, and a fair amount of watching fuzzy futbol games in our room.

After two nights, though, we were ready to hit the road again. With the extra time on our hands, we'd considered finding something else unexpected to do in Chile, but Arica, one place we'd heard good things about, was too out of the way (on the Peru-Chile border, north of where we were) and Patagonia and the far south needed more time than we had. So we decided having a little extra time for Valparaiso and Santiago might actually be OK, especially since we´ll be moving fast through Easter Island and Tahiti in the next week.

So now we're in Valparaiso, a city on the coast, almost directly west of Santiago. It is very colorful, with hills, fun bars and lots of crafts and artsy shops. We're happy with our hostel run by a German on the Cerro (Hill) Concepcion. Today we walked around another hill, Cerro Bellavista, complete with an Ascensor ride and Pablo Neruda's La Sebstiana House here in town. I wasn´t sure whether the tour would be worth it, but we ended up being totally charmed by his home. He lived on the 4th, 5th and 6th floors of the house, which was filled with nooks and crannies and felt very ship-like. It also had lots of portholes and windows overlooking the city and the bay. Because he'd been a state department person around the world for Chile, he also had tons of neat art and exotic things around his home. While Tyler and I aren´t travelling to shop, I hope we can find a few things along the way to grace our home and give us little reminders of this time together.

On the eve of our fourth week travelling together, I've been thinking a bit about our travels together so far. One of my last errands before leaving Seattle was going to the doctor to get the prescription for Cipro. My doctor was on vacation, so I saw another in her place. When I told her about the trip and our plans, she asked how long we´d travelled together before (two weeks) and then paused and wished us luck. However, travelling together thus far has really been a wonderful gift. Not many people at our stage in life and in marriage get the opportunity to do this. While of course there have been times when we've been over-tired and hot that we've perhaps been shorter with the other than necessary, we get to laugh or share our thoughts and experience happily the vast majority of the time. I can't wait to see what the following six months will still bring to our reflections, interactions, conversations and time together.

Smokey Robinson, flamingos and California

Sarah´s in the process of typing up a blog entry that will bring you all up to speed on what we´ve been doing for the last couple days, so I´m just going to babble for a bit. Make sure you read her Blog entry first, or you´ll have even less of an idea than usual of what I´m talking about.

Touring with Smokey Robinson - First off, if any of you were wondering what Smokey Robinson has been up to recently, apparently he´s moved to southern Bolivia, where he is a driver for tours on the Salar de Uyuni (the massive salt flats there). I can testify to this, because Sarah and I spent the last couple of days driving around in the middle of nowhere with him. At first, I thought he was sort of a wimpy driver because he refused to drive out onto the wet salar, even though several other drivers were taking their tour groups. But, on the third day, we were involved in a high-speed, pre-dawn, off-road rally in which he was repeatedly passing other 4x4´s in the near pitch black, while careening along thin dirt roads perched over sheer cliffs. So I can only presume that he knew what he was talking about on the salar... and that all the other tour groups who drove out onto it perished. Anyone read anything about several dozen tourists disappearing on the flooded salt flats of Bolivia? Because I´m sure Smokey would have taken us out on them otherwise.

I will say he looks really snappy in a blue race car drivers jump suit.

Side Note: Everything I write from this point on was written two days later. This is primarily because the people in the the Internet cafe we were using in La Serena kicked us out. Apparently, everything in La Serena is closed, or opens and closes at weird hours, on Sundays. I´ve encountered this in other countries... but not to the extent that Sarah and I did in La Serena the other day. We literally spent the last Sunday wandering around (doing a little site-seeing) and looking for internet cafes and places to try calling our families (something we never accomplished). We did find an internet cafe, but after typing for roughly 10 minutes, the girl running the cafe walked up to us and asked us questions we didn´t understand. It was only after a larger man came, stood behind me and said "bye bye" menacingly in English that we realized it was time to go. Anyhow, onward with my initial intended babbling session.

I don´t think I want to hear anyone complain about American Pop Music again. - Those who know me know that I have no love for American pop music, but at the same time, Justin Timberlake looks like a music genious (sic) compared to the music we were stuck listening too during our three day tour. Several nights before the tour, we ate dinner in a restaurant in Isla Del Sol that had some bizarre, lightly-techno, Bolivian dance music playing. I actually sort of liked it. It was unusual, catchy and harmless. And, in the context of that candle-lit dinner, seemed to match the evening. But "Chicha Disco Boliviano" was a whole different story. At first, I tried to play along, bobbing my head along with a song I´d later dub "the puppy song" (because the bass sounded like barking puppies). But after three days of three CD´s basically on repeat, I feel like I can say as an informed authority that American Pop Music is superior to Bolivian.

And, in Bolivia, if you aren´t listening to Bolivian Pop Music, you are listening to American 80´s Pop Music. I´ve heard Bonnie Tyler´s "Total Eclipse of the Heart" more in the last several weeks than I have in the last two decades.

The tour group as disfunctional family - One of the side effects of our extended tour with Smokey Robinson is that we got to interact a little more with the other people in our small tour group. In addition to me, Sarah, Smokey and the tour's cook... who may have been Smokey´s girlfriend... or mistress... or daughter... we also had the two Adi´s from Isreal. Having completed their mandatory tour in the army, they had been spending several weeks on the beaches of Rio De Janeiro and somehow ended up on Bolivia. When they told us that Isreali´s have a bad reputation abroad, I didn´t immediately believe it. That is until at the border between Bolivia and Chile when our bus driver started yelling at them, saying "you Isreali´s better not be trying to sneak some cocaine across the border!" To my knowledge, one of the Adi´s didn´t even drink. In addition, there was Julia and Victor, who were coy about their relationship (Julia was 23, Victor 44) but both seemed to have interesting jobs with NGO´s. In addition, poor Victor somehow ended up being the only person in our tour group (not counting Smokey and his assistant) that didn´t speak English.

Still, you can´t spend three days trapped in a 4x4 with a bunch of strangers without it seems like a remake of the Breakfast Club, but with less crying, and no dance sequence.

Bolivian Food - ...or the complete lack of. I´m still not sure what "Bolivian food" is because I think I pretty much just ate spaghetti in Bolivia. Honestly, I would have liked to try some, but pretty much everywhere seemed to just serve spaghetti.

...actually, that´s not entirely true. I did have a good BBQ chicken sandwich in one place. And, I did eat an alpaca steak. But, at the time, I just thought it was some chewy, overcooked beef.

Wildlife in Bolivia and beyond - I don´t necessarily think of myself as an animal person, but I am also endlessly amazed at how excited I am to see new animals. When we went to the bird sancutuary in Paracas, it tickled me pink (Pink, I tell ya!) to see penguins in the wild. And while most of the animals we´ve seen in Peru, Bolivia and Chile have been domestic (cows, donkeys, pigs, llamas, alpacas, etc), the tour also allowed us to see Vicuñas (otherworldly, wild cousins of llamas), ostriches (Ostriches? In South America? Didn´t even know they had them here... but there they were running around free in the desert), and lakes full of Flamingos (Pink, I tell ya!).

I´m sure I´ll see even more exciting animals before this trip is done... but, its been an exciting start.

Welcome to California - After three weeks in Peru and Bolivia, Chile feels like California. With its warm weather, chain stores and faster internet connections (I won´t even mention how much better the bathrooms are on average), the difference is shocking between the first two nations and the one we are now in. I´ve been to Chile once before and didn´t notice how modern it was, but that is probably because I came straight from the US to Chile. But, in comparison its northern cousins, Chile is a modern nation. I mean, sure most people in California speak English instead of Spanish, but give it another 10 years.

Unfortunately, that also leads to a bit of "sticker shock" too. After several weeks of paying, say, $5 for a meal for two. We are a little shocked that dinners are now running us $10 to $12 for each of the two of us. Also, it doesn´t help that the exchange rate for the US dollar to Chile peso is 1 to 525. So, a the bill for a $12 meal reads as $6300. Also, we´ve seen Dollar Stores in Chile. They are "$500 Stores."

One thing that we definitely appreciate about Chile is their paved roads. After a week of bumping around on Bolivia´s washed out, pot-hole littered dirt roads, the Chilan highway system is smooth sailing. Speaking of which...

I actually slept on a night bus! - I´m not saying it was my best night of sleep ever. But, in comparison to how I slept in the crowded bunk houses that made up our tour of the Bolivian Altiplano, I was sleeping beauty.

Enjoying Grocery Shopping - It's amazing how fun just going grocery shopping in a supermarket can be after weeks of going on tours. Sarah and I spent some time wandering around a grocery store in La Serena looking for things to take on a picnic the following day... and that shopping trip was probably one of the highlights of the day. If not La Serena in general. When everything is exotic and new, it makes the normal seem novel by default.

But, at the same time, there is nothing more humbling than reaching the check out lane only to realize you didn´t weigh and package your produce correctly for them to check you out. Drat!

Pablo Neruda´s House - Today, Sarah and I took an Ascensor (or Funicular) up to see the Open Air Museum and Pablo Neruda´s House. Honestly, I don´t know much about Pablo, beyond that he´s a famous Chilan poet. And I´ve never read any of his poetry. But I have a lot of respect for the man based on his house.

Actually, a lot of stuff has been making me think about Sarah and mine´s next Big Adventure™, which will probably be a lot more domestic in nature. But, mainly, we´ve been talking more about the type of place we´d like to live in eventually, and Pablo´s house had a lot of the same characteristics I think we´d both like to see in our dream home someday: An urban, modern, well planned-out space, that reflects our interests and lifestyle. I know, that´s a pretty generic statement, but it´s interesting to me how much our traveling has made us talk about the type of place we´d like to "settle" more and more, and how much our visions of that place match up.

Time change confusion - OK, this might be tricky to explain... but here goes: Last weekend, while waiting for a bus, another tourist mentioned that there would a time change because of Daylight Savings that weekend. So, Sarah and I were both prepared to switch our clocks forward an hour because of the old "Spring forward, Fall back" saying. But, when it came time to change it we were surpised that the time actually went back an hour. Spring back!? What gives?

Then, last night, another Seattlite we ran into at a restaurant (her and Sarah actually knew some of the same people through their respective jobs... small world, no?), she pointed out that even though its Spring in the northern hemisphere, its actually going into Fall here. So, they are falling back. Meanwhile, all of those of you reading this in the States (or Europe... we know you´re out there) are Spinging forward.

The weird side effect of this is that while the people in Seattle used to only have a 1 hour time difference from us her in Chile... you now have a 3 hour time difference. Crazy, ain´t it!

It´s like time travel... only more confusing.

The Accomodations Will Be 'Rustic' and Other Words of Warning

Without fail, when taking a night bus somewhere, you´ll always be bombarded by hostel and tour operators, hoping to catch you at your most vulnerable. Especially in a town that people only visit to go on a tour of the Uyuni Salar (salt flat desert) and Altiplano lakes and scenery.

So it was upon arriving to Uyuni after one of the most horrendous night buses yet. The road wasn´t paved much past La Paz, and rainy season meant that there was much lurching and river crossing. As usual, we stopped at some part of the city that seemed desolate and far away from anything we wanted, and all we had was the name of the hostel we wanted to get to for a nap before worrying about setting up a tour for the next day. But a persistent woman who smartly said she would take us to the very hostel we wanted to visit AND pay for our night´s room if we went on her tour hooked us. Before we knew it, we were set up for a three day tour starting the next day with two Israeli girls and supposedly three other Brits. We were promised the usual tour, some driving on the salar, lodging the first night, lakes and lodging at a more rustic place the second night, a connection to San Pedro de Atacama Chile where we could catch a bus to Santiago and three hot meals a day.

After a quiet day in Uyuni, we prepared to set off. As we were told, we arrived at the office at 10:30. It seemed that was right around the time the tour operator decided it was time to go shopping for food for the three days and get ready to go. Finally we were on our way around 11:45 with a driver who didn´t speak any English, another mystery woman (who turned out to be our cook), the two Israeli girls (both 21 and both named Adi) and another couple, not the Brits we expected. Turned out they were a nice couple named Julia and Victor from Catalonia, one of whom (Julia) ended up serving as translator for most of the trip.

Our first stop was to go to the salt flats. In the dry season, they must looked like a big field of dried salt, but during the rainy season, they get about two inches of water covering them which leads to a surreal and magical look where the sky and clouds reflect in the water and from a distance, piles of salt and mountains appear to levitate above the surface. Unfortunately, our driver decided he didn´t want to drive across the Salar because of the water, so we had less time there than we would have hoped. Instead, we randomly stopped at a train graveyard and then a small town where there wasn´t much to see or do. When it was time to go, the Land Cruiser wouldn´t start, which didn´t seem to bode well for the remaining days. After a pushing start from another 4WD vehicle, though, we were on our way.

Now, when a tour operator suggests that your accomodations will be ¨rustic,¨ I´d recommend asking for a definition. For some reason, I thought she had promised something similar to what we stayed in Uyuni--doubles with a shared bath. Instead, in the pouring rain, our driver pulled up to a closed entryway to a house and honked for a few minutes. No answer. He pulled up into another house and honked again. This time, someone came out and shooed up away. This was when we found out that no one was actually expecting us, but we would find somewhere to stay in this town. Fortunately, the third time was the charm, and we got out to find a long, narrow room with seven twin beds in it. And an outhouse, which did--ín its defense--have toilet seats, though the flushing was by pouring a bucket of water into the toilet after you´d finished your business.

Around this time, I started wondering about Tyler and I's technique of `shopping around.' I think one of the things that makes us good travelling companions is that we both have low tolerance for shopping and going place to place. If something sounds reasonable and like what we want, we're generally pretty happy to just make a decision and go with the option in front of us rather than be like other travellers we saw, literally going from door to door of different tour operators throughout Uyuni. Oh, well. It's all part of the adventure, right? (And at the end of the tour, we found out we were better off than others with vehicles that actually did break down multiple times and drivers who had difficult personalities.)

The Adi´s, the Catalonians, Tyler and I all kind of laughed and wandered what exactly we would do with ourselves the rest of the evening in the pouring rain and no electricity in our shared dorm room. Fortunately, it was soon tea time, and we all were happy at least that even if our tour was a little questionable, that at least we all liked each other well enough. We also got to learn more about the Israeli army life and the Adi´s opinions of the Israeli-Palestinian situation over dinner. And the generator did eventually kick on for a bit of time with lights on.

Interestingly, the three 'couples' all had different foods we were avoiding to avoid illness. Tyler and I wouldn´t eat the raw cabbage/tomato salad at dinner. The Israelis would't eat the yogurt that had probably never been refrigerated, but that was all over Peru and Bolivia, and weren't sure about the eggs (also sans refrigeration). Julia wouldn´t eat ice cream in case it had water in it. And Victor, probably the most well travelled of us all, probably was the most fastidious (and possibly the smartest), though Tyler and I fared well enough.

The second day was more of what we expected from the tour, bouncing around the desert in the Land Cruiser that seemed destined to die on us, going past lakes full of flamingos, trees made of stone, and Lago Colorada.

That night we stayed in the more rustic of the two nights of accomodation, meaning that we were again in a bunk room together, but this time the toilets didn't have seats and there was no running water in the bathroom. And we had to get up at 4:30AM. But we did get to see geysers during sunrise, hot springs (Tyler and I stuck our feet in--we didn´t have on our suits and the outside air was REALLY cold) and Lago Verde.

Then we arrived at the Bolivian-Chile border to catch a ride to San Pedro de Atacama where we would part ways with our travelling companions.

Oh, and I forgot to mention the soundtrack for the entire trip was extremely bad Bolivian dance music. Extra points to anyone who can find (and listen to in its entirety, oh, maybe 12 times) a CD called Chicha Disco Boliviano.

Overall, it was a really interesting and fascinating trip, and everything I expected out of three days bouncing around in the desert. Being on the altiplano, where you´re high up, but in desert with nothing but some scrub brush and vicunas while surrounded on all sides by volcanos and mountains, is interesting. It all reminded me quite a bit of the American Southwest.

All in all, I didn´t feel like I got as much of a feel for Bolivia as I did Peru...probably because we spent so much of our time there just getting from Point A to Point B. It did definitely feel a little more challenging than Peru, with less infrastructure in general and less English. Lots more pizza and Italian food (I have no idea what Bolivian food is otherwise, except for the bit of llama steak we had with on of our tour lunches). As I think we mentioned after being on Isla del Sol, Bolivia is definitely a place I´d like to come back to, to see La Paz, Sorada and Santa Cruz and the surrounding areas.

24 Hours in the Life of These Intrepid Travellers

9AM Monday, March 5 to 9AM Tuesday, March 6

Get up pack and eat breakfast in preparation for our two hour boat ride from Isla del Sol to Copacabana. Put stinky clothes (we haven't had time to do laundry since Arequipa) on stinky bodies (the advertised hot water is only slightly lukewarm, and it's just too cold in the morning for a cold shower). Then climb down the 200-odd steps to get on a rickety boat with more people than should have fit. And only after borrowing 10 bolivianos from a nice Australian woman. We did not bring enough money to the island, and once we were there, we had no way to get anymore. We had studiously scrimped and pinched our money to have enough for our room, food and return trip, only to find out that it was now 30, not 20, bolivianos for us both to get back. We had 21 bolivianos and one US dollar on us.

After 1 hour layover in Copacabana, board a bus for a 4+ hour bus ride to La Paz.

Arrive in La Paz, having no idea where we are or how to get more bus tickets to Uyuni. I foolishly thought in my 'poco espanol' skills the bus conductor was saying we'd arrive at the terminal and that you could easily take a taxi to town. It was apparently the opposite. But then run into nice travel agency ladies who set us up with the nice (i.e., expensive) night bus to Uyuni, giving us about 2.5 hours in La Paz to eat, drink a beer, and decide we wished we had more time in La Paz.

Depart for Uyuni, on a 9-turned-12 hour bus ride, through a desolate landscape, on an unpaved road that had many ruts and washed out portions since this is the rainy season. During the lurching and bumping, start wondering what exactly would happen if the bus were to tip over and whether it would be better to be on the tipped side or to fall to the other side. Try and pretend to sleep instead of thinking about whether we're even on a road or not.

Arrive dazed and confused in Uyuni at 9AM the next day! Only 18 hours of travel out of 24...... This would be why I'm now referring to this leg of the trip as the 'Bolivian Sprint.'

I keep thinking night buses will be a good idea. And I'm not sure you can get to Uyuni any other way. When I first moved to Seattle, I used to take red-eye flights home for the holidays. I figured they were cheaper and I didn't lose a day to travel. After a few years, I realized that I didn't, in fact, gain any time and only ended up spending a day or so in recovery. As we did today in Uyuni.

But now we've had a well-needed day of R&R and are getting our laundry done. We wondered how long it would take to become stinky, harried travellers. Apparently only a little less than three weeks!

Tomorrow--off to the Salar, or salt desert, for a three day tour. It looks to be fascinating and surreal.

Then Chile!

Island life, city life, desert life.

After Machu Pichu and the Floating Islands, Sarah and I were done with tours for a bit. Machu Pichu was amazing, and the Floating Islands were interesting in their own way. But, at the same time, we were burnt out with being led around by a guide in a group of other confused tourists. On the other hand, we had enjoyed Tequile's island vibe, and were excited by our next destination: Isla Del Sol, in Bolivia.

Just across the Peru/Bolivian boarder is the small town of Copacabana (but, no, not that Copacabana) on Lake Titicaca. After what was possibly the most lax border crossing I've ever experienced ("change your money over there, have Peru stamp your passport there, walk through that arch, and have Boliva stamp your passport, and you're done!"), Sarah and I were in our second country of the trip.

The trip from Copacabana to Isla Del Sol was an hour and 30 minute long passage ferry crossing. While Sarah and I had agreed that Isla Tequile reminded us of Sicily, Isla Del Sol was maybe Sicily... with the weather of the Scottish Highlands (another place neither of us have been). The days would be gorgeous and sunny. But, shortly after midnight it would begin to downpour... really, really downpour. Then, almost magically, the rain would pass around 11AM each morning, letting us explore the island in the sun all afternoon.

And, what an island to explore! No internet (thus our silence for the last few days)and no cars. Little old women and children leading donkeys, pigs, sheep and llamas down the narrow cobblestone paths that served as the islands "roads." Tiny bays with even tinier towns perched over them. So relaxing, after the chaos of the last few weeks. And, we even saw a lunar ecplise while eating dinner the first night.

Speaking of dinner, since it was an island with limited contact with the mainland, there were basically three choices for dinner in each restaurant: trout, omelettes or spaghetti. We did see one place advertising hamburgers, but when we sat down and looked at their menu, "hamburgers" had been crossed out, leaving (you guessed it) trout, omelettes and spaghetti. To be fair, their spaghetti was very good. The cheese they make in this region is soft, salty and goes very well shredded on top of pasta.

Hiking around the island itself was wonderful after spending the last few weeks dodging cars and their horns. The only problem was with the the guys selling tickets. Basically, you need to buy a ticket to get into the ruins on the island. Sarah and I were sort of worn out on ruins, so we hadn't planned on buying a ticket. The main problem with this is that there is really only one path going around the island, and at two places on that path there are guys selling tickets to the ruins... and they won't let you pass until you buy a ticket. To make things even more confusing, it seemed (after the fact) that one of the guys isn't legit. Still, Sarah and I managed to convince one guy to let us pass by buying only one ticket, and convinced the second guy to let us pass buying only one discount ticket (oddly, he had two ticket prices). Still, it was frustrating, and the difficulty explaining that we only wanted to walk around the island only highlighted that life would really be easier if we knew some more Spanish.

Isle Del Sol overall, was probably the first place we felt like we were ahead of the tourist curve... if just barely. As I mentioned, there is no internet, nor any bank (something that proved challenging for us since we didn't think to bring enough money). But, at the same time, you cna see a lot of hostels being built, and the children have already learned the chant of "have you cam-er-ah? Phot-oh-graphica me!" So, in a few years, I see things changing dramatically for the residence of the island.

Anyhow, sadly, our trip to Isla Del Sol was over too fast, and we were back on the ferry home. The return ferry wasn't quite the relaxing, sunny affair that the first ferry ride was. The rain hadn't stopped, and the overcrowded ferry's small sheltered section was packed with tourists and locals making their way back to mainland. The pilot stood stoicly at the rear of the boat, striking a dramatic pose in his fedora and heavy woolen blanket wrapped over his shoulders. He was so focused on piloting the little boat, and trying to see through the rapidly fogging-over windows on the far end of the ship, that he hardly seemed to notice that the boat was so loaded down, that water was nearly slopping over the boats edges.

I sat squished within the boat. On right side of me sat a girl who was either sea-sick, just sick or hung over. It was hard to tell for sure, but her eyes would roll back in her head as she took woozy pulls from an oversized water bottle. (Beyond her, oddly, was a girl who looked so much like Meghan that I kept seeing her out of the corner of my eye and doing double-takes. Meghan - your doppleganger is in Boliva right now.) Around my feet sat several elderly Bolivian women in their traditional bowler hats, shawls and skirts. Occasionally, someone would offer them a seat on a bench, but mere moments later, they'd be sitting on their colorful bundles on the floor again.

And, on the left side of me sat Sarah.

I'm not sure why (basically, I was bored), but I decided it would be a good idea to roll up the ferry ticket... and stick it in Sarah's ear. Obviously, Sarah didn't find it to be as amusing an idea, and suddenly leapt awake, letting out a little squeek of startlment. "Why'd you do that!?" She scolded me, then her face turned a little red, "Now they're all laughing at us."

I turned to see two of the elderly women sitting at our feet laughing. One of them repeatedly sticking as finger in her ear, as she explained to her friend what she had just seen me do.

All we could do was sort of sit there red-faced, as I repeated what has sort of become a mantra of mine on this leg of the trip: "Lo siento, mi esposa. Lo siento."

A short time later, we were on another bus to La Paz. I'd been sort of dreading La Paz since I'd heard a few others describe it in less than glowing terms, and had heard more than one pick pocket story. But, nothing prepared us for what we would see as our bus reached the edge of the valley that La Paz lay within. Spreading out below us, as far as the eye could see (or at least as far as the smog would allow us) was La Paz: A sprawling warren of thin roads, brick buildings and the occasional nest of skyscrappers. A pure urban sprawl, and an amazing one.

Our bus dropped us off in the middle of the old downtown. And, after buying our tickets to Uyuni (our next destination), Sarah and I had a few hours to explore downtown. After grabbing a beer at one restraunt, buying me a Bolivian flag patch at a stall, grabbing a bite to eat at another restaurant, and exploring a few streets, we were back on the bus again.

La Paz, we hardly knew ye. But, while we both agreed that it was best to get on the road again, we also both agreed that someday it would be worth returning to give La Paz more of a chance.

Having heard many a horror story about the bus rides in Bolivia, Sarah and I opted to pay the roughly extra $5 US to catch a ride on a first-class bus, instead of the repainted school buses that seem to make up the majority of the Bolivian bus fleet. The ride was still long, bumpy and sleep still managed to elude me, but at least we were able to ride it out in comfortable, reclining chairs, with a movie, and an on bus bano. Part of us felt like we were taking the "easy way out," but another part of us agreed that there were some cultural experiences (like 14 hour bus rides on uncomfortable, chicken-laden buses) that we could pass on. For now at least.

Roughly twelve hours later (it was supposed to be nine, but the recent rains had turned the desert outside Uyuni into a swamy mess, criss-crossed with newly formed rivers that our bus had to ford) we were in Uyuni. Like usual, I was a gibbering, sleep-deprived mess, but a quick nap in our new hostel has gone a long way to correct that problem.

Tomorrow, we depart on a three-day tour of Salar de Uyuni. During that time, we won't have internet access, and after that we'll be on another bus to Santiago, so don't expect another blog entry for a while. But, I'm sure we'll have plenty to babble about when we reach Santiago.

Final Observations on Peru

Well, we spent more time in Peru than we initially anticipated, but it was well worth the time. When we included Peru on our RTW itinerary, it was mostly due to other friends' experiences and a desire to see Macchu Picchu. But I think after 2+ weeks here, Peru will be a special place for me. The people have been interesting, kind and generous. The scenery is fantastic, from desert to mountains. And we didn't even experience the rainforest and good beaches! And their hold on their history and past is fascinating. A few other random thoughts from our time here:

1. Learn Spanish! Though we were told this by a friend (Chris Clark, you were right!), we thought, well, we're just in South America for a month, we can't learn all the languages of the countries we'll be visiting, and, frankly, I don't think we would have had time in the last two months even if we had wanted to. But we would have had a richer experience, being able to talk to people and get off the beaten path.

2. There is no "@" sign on the Spanish keyboard, which makes emailing difficult at first. If you come, just know to hold down the "Alt" key then use the number pad to hit "6" then "4". It will save you some initial frustration and heartache.

3. It's not necessarily a good idea to eat cheap street food for dinner after an expensive lunch on a tour. You'll likely end up losing time, energy, and money later on medicine and doctors!

4. Set menus will almost always have a chicken (pollo) and beef option: bistec (the most generic term), lomo and chuleto. Avoid the chuleto. It's a weird, tough cut of meat.

5. While we heard some stories of petty theft, I have felt incredibly safe while in Peru. While we still try and be smart and cautious, I've found it easy and comfortable to get around and be in the cities.

6. One of my favorite things about Peru has been the public spaces in each town, almost always called Plaza de Armas. Unlike many places in America, these public spaces are really used by the citizens, especially in smaller cities, but also in Miraflores. In the early evening, you can watch families walking the plaza for a pleasant constitutional, teenagers flirting, little kids playing with puppies and old men sitting and talking in shady places. They are vibrant places, and some of my favorite times have been when Tyler and I just sat and took in the scene.

7. However, I don't want to whitewash the fact that there is poverty. While sitting in the squares, young boys are running around trying to shine shoes and young girls are selling balloons and tchotchkes to children not much younger than themselves. And the housing standards vary widely. We've seen everything from brick or cinderblocks to locally made sod-type bricks and even rattan-type sheets used for walls and roofing. Most houses and buildings also have this halfway finished look about them, with rebar sticking out of the roof or a half build upstairs, with room made with the rattan wall material. We don't know if it's optimism for building in the future or a belief in a future need for more room or what. (We tried to ask one of our tour guides, but the question didn't even make sense to him.) And there have been some really tragic ghetto areas, particularly outside of Lima where I've thought when seeing it from the bus window that it can't possibly be a home only to a moment later seeing a woman hanging laundry or children running around the dusty yards.

8. Don't try to explain jokes that depend on a play between English and Spanish to native Spanish speakers. When Tyler and I were in Lima, we saw a closed "ferreteria," and initially thought it was a store of ferrets and ferret supplies, fascinating but sort of disgusting. The next day when we saw an open ferreteria, we saw it was actually the equivalent of a hardware store. When we tried to share this with our hostel owner, we got the half-hearted laugh of someone who doesn't understand but doesn't want to try and break the barrier to get it.

9. This will probably not solely be a Peruvian observation, but take advantage of good bathrooms when you find them. It's a happy day for Tyler and I when we find a bathroom with a toilet with a seat, toilet paper, soap AND towels to dry your hands with! Actually, pretty much having a seat is a sign that we should go ahead and use the facilities. Also, you can't flush toilet paper or anything down the toilet in South America. While it was strange at first, I imagine now I'll be in bathrooms around the world, looking for the trashcan to put it in.

10. While ATMS are widely available and a good way to get cash on the road, one small inconvenience is that it tends to spit out $100 sole bills which no one wants to break. And sometimes can't break, so you end up spending more time than you'd care to trying to figure out when to spend them to get smaller bills. And you might end up wandering around all day unable to buy small things until you've had dinner and gotten smaller bills!

The other thing I've learned at this early stage of our trip is that a large part of the art of travel is the ability to amuse yourself waiting for and riding on transportation. That and the ability to embrace ambiguity and chaos. The bus stops for 20 minutes and you don't know why? An extra chance to enjoy the scenery. On a bus back to a city you're returning to but don't know where exactly you'll end up? Figure that either it will hit the major square in town or you'll be able to find a taxi to the main square and you can make your way from there.

Two quick notes:

While 30 days seemed quite luxurious for this part of our trip, hitting three countries and making the mileage between Lima, Peru and Santiago, Chile now means that we have to make up some serious time to do half the things we’d hoped to do in Bolivia and get to Chile for our flight to Easter Island. So we’ll likely be blogging less between the 17 and 24 hour busrides and four day salt flat desert tour in Bolivia.

Also—we still want to get our pictures up. We got them downloaded to a CD today and want to get them on Shutterfly. We’ll post a link once we finally have a chance to upload them (i.e., find an internet café where it won’t take too many hours).

Now to Bolivia, where we've had to truncate our trip to include only Copacabana, Isla del Sol, maybe Sorada, Uyuni, and the salt flats in the south. Then on to Chile!

The Road to Puno

Just remember what ol' Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big old storm right in the eye and says, "Give me your best shot. I can take it."

-Jack Burton, Big Trouble in Little China

The quote above kept repeating itself in the back of my mind last night as Sarah and I sat in our bus which, in turn, sat stalled in the middle of a muddy street in Juliaca. Behind us, cars and trucks horns honked, while above us the sky rumbled with thunder, crashed with lightening, and dumped rain and hail down upon the bus and surrounding city.

For some reason, the Peruvian woman (dressed in her traditional outfit) sitting behind us had decided to get off the bus at the Juliaca bus stop. Then, once the bus started moving again, she ran out into the street, flagging it down so that she could get back on. The bus stopped to pick here up, only to stall in the middle of the street.

But, unlike the storm, the stall passed quickly, and we were back on the road again. Since our first couple bus rides, Sarah and I have quickly become bus riding pros. During the eight hour drive from Cusco to Puno, there were numerous similar incidents (ranging from having the police stop the bus, to having the bus pick up whole families in the middle of what appeared to be a barren wasteland with no sign of habitation for miles around). But, all Sarah and I could do is shrug or shake our heads.

Still, we´ve also learned that there are "good buses" and "bad buses." The good buses, head directly from Point A to Point B. While the bad buses take the, shall we say, scenic route... stopping to pick up and drop off people at random intervals, veering off course to detour through random towns, stopping for extended intervals for no apparent reason. Unfortunately, we´ve yet to figure out which buses are good buses, and which are bad until after we´ve bought our tickets and boarded them.

I´m not complaining mind you. It´s all part of the adventure. And, I firmly maintain that the set-backs, misadventures, and troubles are as important as the sites we see and cultures we experience. Possibly more so. At the risk of being a completely cliched dork, I´ll mention a quote by Tyler Durdan from Fight Club: "How much can you know about yourself, if you've never been in a fight?"

And, while I´m not going to go around picking fights with Peruvians. I also think that it would be fair to modify that quote to read "How much can you know about yourself, if you've never been in a stuck on a Peruvian bus in the middle of a near biblical electrical storm?"

Sadly though, tomorrow will be our last ride on a Peruvian bus. Here´s hoping its a Good Bus. And, I´m looking forward to experiencing the Bolivian buses next.

So today, in Puno, we took a tour boat to see the islands on Lake Titicaca.

First up was the famous Floating Islands. Constructed entirely of reed beds, and still home to over 1000 people, the floating islands are something to behold. Sadly, they´ve also turned into a bit of a tourist trap. The tour boat pulls up to one, and everyone unloads onto the island. We get a chance to peak around, they explain a bit about their culture and how they build and maintain their floating island homes. Then, out comes the handicrafts and you spend the next 15 minutes stuck on the island as they try to sell you mobiles, woven rugs and other Peruvian tchotchkes.

The islands and lifestyle are impressive and unique, and worth the trip. But it was also just a little sad that what had once been a lifestyle has now been reduced to a way to make some cash off tourists.

Next up was the island of Taquile Island. Neither Sarah nor I have ever been to Sicily, but we both agreed that Taquile reminded us of Sicily, with its steep cliffs, winding stone paths and people dressed in traditional black, white and red outfits. Tequile, which I don´t think Sarah and I had either been particularly excited about visiting (it was just part of the tour), turned out to be a pleasant surprise. It was warm, quiet, and had a ralaxed feel to it. We both wished that could have had more time there... especially without our tour group (there was literally a group of four teenage, American girls wearing their pajama pants on the tour. I mean, what!?). But, soon we were herded onto our tour boat again, for the long trip across Titicaca and back to Puno.

Anyhow, as I mentioned earlier, we are off to tomorrow morning for Boliva. I know Sarah is planning a "final thoughts on Peru" entry, but I thought I´d mention that I´ve really enjoyed our trip here so far. At several points, Sarah and I have both commented to each other that we could happily spend a month or more here (as opposed to the 2 weeks or so we´ve given it). But, at the same time, I´m looking forward to the next leg of our trip.

Boliva, here we come!

It's good to make friends from Uruguay

Since we last checked in, Tyler and I went on a great trip through the Sacred Valley and up to Macchu Picchu. If I learned anything in those two days, it's that the Incans were extremely fit (no obesity problems with all those stairs and terraces in high up places) and that they must not have had any fear of heights.

On Tuesday, we boarded a bus for the Sacred Valley tour. In what we're learning is typical Peruvian fashion, we drove around in circles picking up small handfuls of people. There always seems to be some woman whoe sole job is to fill up the van before it departs for its destination. We finally got out of Cusco and, after a few typical tourists stops at markets so we can all spend money, we got to the valley itself. It was really amazing. Mountains rising up on either side, and it seemed like you tripped over Incan ruins at every moment.

Our first ruins stop was Pisaq, a ruin including terraces, a religious center, and urban center, a watchtower, fountain/irrigation channels, etc. One thing to know when coming to Peru is that there are no concessions for the out of shape or faint of heart. Going to the ruins involved a 3K walk down steep stone stairs. At every ruin we went to, there were always older couples, looking up at the many steps and vertical feet to claim, decrying, “They didn't tell us there'd be all these steps!”

Next, after one of the usual tour route lunches where you're forced to eat at an overpriced restaurant, we arrived at Ollantaytambo, a fortress ruin that was one of the last stands between the last living Incan king (Pisarro had killed the other one) and the Spanish. Again, lots of steps, but cool carvings, amazing Incan walls.

The only downside of the tour was, well, being on a tour. We'd been spoiled when we visited the other local ruins and got to walk at our own pace, on our own time. While the guide is always useful and informative, we always had to leave before we were ready and only got to see a small portion of all the ruins that were at each site. But, with our limited language skills, which limits our ability to communicate/barter/use modes of transport that aren't tours, it was the easiest way to see some sights and get ourselves to Macchu Picchu.

Which is where the Uruguayans come into the picture. When we set up our tour at our hostel, Marlon, the owner, seemed to think it was a good idea to have us on a tour with other guests. We were OK with it, but a little nonplussed since we don't speak much Spanish and they didn't seem to speak any English. Our exchanges at that point had been good morning (buenos dias!) and good evening (buenos noches!) when our paths had crossed at the hostel. But, over the course of the day, we bonded a bit about our lack of exploration time. And it turned out that one person in the group, Soledad, actually spoke a fair amount of English, with the others varying between a little ("You like sports? Seattle Super Sonics?”) to none, we were able to go to the market with them, get food, find our way to the Macchu Picchu trail and otherwise navigate a little more easily than normal.

Now, maybe having help doing some marketting doesn't seem like a big deal, but let me explain. Our first--and last--attempt to buy something at a market had been in Arequipa. We went with the idea of buying some bread, a little breakfast, before hitting the city. When we found the bread portion of the market, we went up to one guy and tried to ask how much for two pieces of bread. Let’s just say we ended up with six pieces of bread for five soles (we payed 1-2 soles for 10 pieces of bread with the Uruguayans) and had avoided food purchases at markets pretty much since.

But back to Macchu Picchu. After a train ride to Aguas Calientes, the jumping off point to see the ruins, we woke up at 3:45AM to hike into the ruins for sunrise. I woke up excited for Macchu Picchu day; let’s just say that Tyler is less of a morning person. We’d feared it would be cold, but hiking 700 meters up on stone stairs takes care of that problem. And it was amazing to arrive so early. After climbing up and up and up and up, we arrived at the gate. Only to climb more steps to get the quintessential view of Macchu Picchu. After catching our breath and taking in the view, we joined the tour that was part of our package. While I was feeling like I could leave or take it, it was a useful introduction to the ruins. Then—best of all—we had the whole day to then do as we pleased. After resting and eating, we were able to climb like vicunas (the wild camelid cousin of the domesticated llama and alpaca) through the ruins to our hearts’ desires.

The only downside was that the hike into the ruins took much of our energy away, so we didn’t do the other famous hike at the ruins, Youngs Peak up Wanapicchu (the mountain you always see behind the ruins). While we were OK with it that day, our Uruguayan friends did it, and their pictures did make us wonder momentarily about our decision. But it was also good to have a day to sit and stare and wander and wonder. And there were so few people there at 6:15 in the morning (imagine that!). By mid-afternoon, the place was crawling with tour groups in Spanish, English, French, and Japanese, that we mostly played “dodge the tourists” for the afternoon.

It was interesting to see a site so familiar from pictures and travel books. I almost had to pinch myself to realize we were actually there. And then it was fun to see it from new and different angles to make it our own memory.