Condors, Reeds and a Cemetery

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Sorry! about how far behind the blogs are... Do want to clean up the backlog before January! (no pun intended)

The drive to Colca Canyon and the search for begins October 28. The geological presentation of terrain was again stimulating especially when the truck went thru a tunnel that had no real definition.
The sides were only briefly visible as the tuck lights reflected on the beige sand hewen walls. There were no reflective lights, no lines on the road surface and no indications as to how long we would be inside the belly of this mountain.
It seemed to be a worm hole with no end in sight. There were no braces, no asphalt, no lights and definitely no warning signs at the approach or at the end.
The dirt and gravel roadto Colca Canyon was most of the time perilously close to a sheer drop off. When a bus or transport approached there was little room for error as the two monsters passed each other. It was an exciting ride!!

In the evening it was once again my turn to be on cook group. I did choose to sleep in my tent because my body, wracked with coughing, needed to stretch out straight. I would cough so much the other two cook group people would get no sleep while they stretched out on the floor of the truck with their sleeping gear. From the tent to the dusty dirty floor of the truck and back to the tent, that’s how all the people work it when they sleep on the truck. I sleep in my seat and stretch my feet across the aisle to the next seat.

There was no toilet at this ‘bush’ camp and little that would pass for a bush!

Everyone got up very early. One to see the condors and two to dismantle the tents because this was really only a parking lot for all the people who come daily to see the condors soar.

The wait began at six in the morning. By seven … not a condor in sight.
Being on cook droop I dragged my frozen behind back to the truck, helped set up … and get ready the ever welcomed breakfast of toast, peanut butter, marmite and hot tea with lots of sugar and milk powder, vacuum packed and/or watered down homo.

Finally while serving breakfast the condors come. Six black floating, gliding, soaring, drifting shapes against the blue morning sky. The tip feathers are distinctive as they jut out from each wing. The pairs soar in unison catching the warm currents of air provided by the rising sun. Many people and vehicles are now in the parking space. Cameras click, exclamations of wonder and amazement emit from satisfied tourists.

And the bathrooms in a somewhat subterranean circle are opened. Too late for me. I found a small rock behind which to do my thing!

Coughing more often and feeling each cough retch my whole body the drive to Puno begins. The night of the 29th of October the ‘bush’ camp is in the rain.

Arriving in Puno on Oct 30, I spend all day in bed.
The man in the hotel brings me coca leaf tea all day long. I am in a room at the top of the stairs. Each floor only has one or two rooms as the hostel is tall and thin. Make it to the pharmacy to get more antibiotics and some cough syrup. It tastes worse than Buckley’s … however bad that tastes!

Imperative that I feel better. Have already opted out of the overnight stay on a reed island. Will visit the reed people just on a day’s excursion.

The pictures in the next blog will show well the condition of the ‘real’ boat, the construction of the reed island and the activities taking place for the benefit of the tourists.

On the 31st the dash to the border begins early. While questioning the wisdom of repeating the red mud experience of a few days ago, big blow up and upset occurs on the truck. Names are called, feathers are ruffled, persons are named!

The ‘bush’ camp this night is in a futball field. A young boy tells me the ground is not good when it rains, there are dangerous snakes around and it is cold at night.

Seven people out of the 18 are not feeling 100%.

The boy watches the whole time I set up … he and a llama.

Big talk in the morning about the blow up the day before.
Little changes on the truck.
A trip to Bolivia necessary. Inca trail tickets for Nov. 10.

It is Nov. 1. Five days will be spent in La Paz. Am still retching with the cough. Spend Hallowe’en in bed watching TV. Others have a bash in costumes with much intoxication. My condor mask I have already sent home.

Did a city tour by bus. It is extremely hilly. Went to a lovely cafe decorated with old cameras and and pictures and anything that looked antique. Found the grocery store and bought food to cook at the hostel. Did a walk about and took pictures. Found the Archeological Museum closed ... must have been Monday! Sent a package at the post office. Visited the cemetery on Nov. 2 along with thousands of others. The streets around the cemetery had a carnival feel. Food, balloons, trinkets... all were available.

Coughed my way thru the city. It is hard being an excited enthusiastic tourist when not feeling well.
Did go to a lovely cafe for a good coffee. The grocery store in La Paz was well stocked. The city tour was the most informative I have yet encountered. The witches market was interesting but mostly selling herbs and doodads for tourists.
The Poncho I wanted to buuy would have cost $500US ... then again it could have been my math gone bad. Most of the ponchos cost 80 to 100.
Went to a contemporary art exhibit. Saw it almost all of it. Was unable to go up the circular staircase in the beautiful old house because a glass floor needed to be crossed.
Sent a package home containing mostly wool.
Cooked in the hostel. It was a nice place. Actually 2 apartments with two or three bedrooms each on the top floor. It is a place catering to the israeli army youth coming to S.A. for economical holidays after their three years of service. A restaurant that turnd into a sabbath meeting place was on the second floor. All in all most ofthe time in La Paz was again spent trying to get rid of my cough so that I would be ready for the Inca Trail.

An extra day was requested by who knows who.

Finally on Nov. 6 the truck heads north to Peru via Copacabana a little jewel of a town nestled against a hill in southern bay connected to Lake Titikaka. The road ended and the water began.

Copacabana was reached after sending the truck across a body of water that was less than calm and then continuing past fields and hills and splendid views of water.

After a walk along the whole curve of the beach, the worst pizza ever (bisquick bottom….little on the top) and the smell of Angel’s Trumpets filling the night air the night was spent in an orange hotel that had unrestrictws ed vieof the sea …if you were on the right side of the hotel. My view included a very ugly rooster, some dogs and a goat in a small compound. It was a nice place and my laundry on the vry narrow balcony dried over night.

After a breakfast of one scrambled egg, toast and coffee made with hot water and coffee granules the drive towards Cusco begins.

For the second time we would pass thru Puno and Juliaca. I even made friends in the market.
Juliaca is a sad town that looks like all the left overs of other places have been blown together and deposited here in a huge drift of sand and plastic bags. The trees wear the plastic bags as grotesque Christmas decorations fluttering and sputtering in the sand laden wind. Three times I will pass thru here because after the Inca Trail the truck will head south again to go to Uyuni and the salt flats.

Machu Picchu is next.

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Photos

Entry Into the Park is Under Control
Its a good money making enterprise.

FruFru Hotel
Did not stay here and did not eat here. Too cowded. Ate the worst pizza ever ina lovely hotel with fragrat trumpet angel flowers hanging atthe entrance.

An Alter of Offerings
For the day of the dead all those things the dead person had enjoyed in life are brought to the grave. This alter of offerings was in the smalloffice at Moon Valley.

Funeral Prossession

From Boxes to Boxes
View past the burial spaces to the hills of La Paz.

Found Herminia
In all the little boxes in the cemetery in La Paz I looked for my Mom's name. I had bought a lovely bouquet of gladiolas and baby's breath. When I found the name I left the bouquet there. There were no ohter offerings.

Outside the La Paz Cemetery
Nov. 2 was the Day of the Dead. In Europe and here in S.A. it is a holiday from work. Chanters and flower sellers were doing a brisk trade in and near the cemetery.

How does the hat stay on?
An englishman bought bowlers and wanted to sell them to the men where he lived in S.A. The menn wanted no hats! The englishman then convinced the womenn that the same hats were the hight of fashion in Europe ... thence the continued stylish headgear. The wide dresses ae imitations of the skirts worn by the spanish senoritas and the shawls mimic the mantillas.

Flying high and upside down!
The german flag was also hung up wrongly.