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Published: January 31st 2009
Once upon a time in a continent famous for half-naked parties and outrageously oversized reptiles were two weary travelers making the most of the final weeks of an amazing journey. You may have thought that they simply fell off of the face of the continent never to be heard of again . . . and in a way I guess they were. But instead of being swallowed up whole by anacondas or impaled by poisonous arrows of aggressive Amazon tribes, they were simply eaten up by the humdrum of stationary life. Now just over two years later as we await our first baby and a totally new adventure, let’s welcome back those wavy lines from Scooby Doo and head back to Peru.
The Journey to La Paz. It was bright and extremely early when we boarded the train from Cusco heading toward the downright silly sounding Lake Titicaca. We’d heard fantastic things about the train ride to Puno. It was supposed to be heaps more comfortable and scenic than the cheaper and faster trip by bus. Imagine our disappointment when we noticed that five hours into the trip we still were riding the rails parallel to the highway where
many buses were whizzing us by. It wasn’t very comfortable either. But why complain when I’m happily reliving the fantastic days of travel? (Just make a note to take the bus if you ever make it to this part of the world.)
We pulled into Puno, Peru’s major city on the lake, exhausted and crashed out for the night. The next morning we boarded our bus into Bolivia where we made a quick change of buses in Copacabana (not the one from Barry Manilow fame), then took a boat trip across a finger of the enormous lake (where our bus boarded a precarious ferry and met us on the other side), and finally descended into La Paz, the highest capital city in the world.
In La Paz, our first stop (after booking our flights to the Amazon) were the witch markets where we spied many a dried llama fetus as well as sundry other goodies to ward off ailments and bad luck. More interesting to us was the Coca Museum which details the history of coca in South America where we learned all sorts of stuff about how the Spanish invaders utilized coca to keep the indigenous workers
Early morning in the Amazon
If I could have covered myself more, I would have.appeased while slaving away for days on end deep in the Spanish silver mines and how the U.S. is the world’s largest importer of coca (despite their very vocal objections to Evo Morales’s support of the production of coca for legal exportation). La Paz also provided many opportunities to stock up on gifts for friends and family back home and fill our guts with really amazing Lebanese and Cuban food.
Rurrenabaque and the Amazon. A few days later we boarded a tiny plane which glided down the Andes and landed us safely into the sweltering town of Rurrenabaque on the edge of the Amazonian pampas or lowlands where we would begin our trip into the Amazon.
I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed something so much that made me absolutely miserable. We knew that mosquitoes would be an issue (especially as our trip fell during the worst time of year for mossies), but I never could imagine how relentlessly maddening they would be. They began their assault the second we stepped out of the 4x4 that took us the dusty four hour drive to the edge of the water. Once in our boat, they cleverly outsmarted me and
Sweet revenge
How can something so small be so miserable? attacked my arse (the one area that wasn’t covered by at least two layers of densely woven fabric) through the mesh lawn chair I was riding on. By the time, we arrived at our base camp I easily had 40 bites on my bottom and this was just the beginning of a very muggy and itchy two days in the Amazon.
Despite the mossie bites, it really was a beautiful and really fun adventure. We were treated to early morning and late night boat rides to spot (and listen to) the diverse animal life. We went fishing for piranhas and even though we didn’t actually catch one, it was really cool to watch the water boil with activity as we dropped our bait into the water. We (well, Paul did anyway . . . I opted out in favor of the comfort of my mosquito net) donned rubber boots and went trudging through the swamp in search of anacondas. And just like the brochure promised we even spotted pink river dolphins. Some crazies decided to jump right into the brackish swamp water to swim with them. Despite our guide’s assurances that crocodiles and piranhas are never found in the
same parts of the river as the dolphins, I never once considered taking a dip. Other folks in our family aren’t so sensible.
Copacabana and Lake Titicaca. After our trip to the Amazon, we retraced our steps back to the famous lake named after bosoms and baby poo. On the Bolivian side we stayed in Copacabana where we marveled at the enormous and gorgeous cathedral where worshippers can, among other things, have their houses, businesses, even cars blessed (but only after dressing them up to the nines). We also took a boat into the lake where we hiked across the Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun) to see the spot where the Incan god of the sun was born, but playing with the children keeping an eye on their sheep in the fields was much more fun.
From Puno, on the Peruvian side of the lake, we took another boat trip to see the amazing reed islands of Uros. These floating islands, made from the roots of the totora reeds that grow in the lake, are one to two meters thick and must constantly be replenished by adding more reeds to the tops. Most of the
Uros islanders
These ladies are in desperate need of some exercise. inhabitants make their living by selling souvenirs to the scads of tourists who visit each day, but what we really noticed was how obese they are. Obviously life on an island 30 meters across isn’t the healthiest lifestyle.
The road home: Arequipa, Nasca and Ica. From Lake Titicaca we had a long road in front of us to get back to Lima in order to catch our flight to the States. Thankfully, we had a couple of stops to break up the trip. Our first stop was Arequipa, a gorgeous colonial town famous for a convent. The 16th century Santa Catalina Monastery is a great remnant of the affluence of some Spanish families in colonial times. Tradition dictated that a family’s second child was to dedicate their life to the church and to send one’s daughter to the Santa Catalina Monastery was quite the honor. But it wasn’t a cheap honor. Families paid a dowry equivalent to about $50K in today’s money and provided the convent with a variety of opulent gifts of furniture and textiles as well. Wandering the brightly painted alleyways of the beautiful little city within a city was a lovely way to spend the
afternoon.
In Nazca, we were hoping to arrange a flight over the famous Nazca lines (mysterious geoglyphs of monkeys, spiders, lizards, hummingbirds and sharks of unknown origin spread across the desert landscapes). We met up with a woman who arranged flights and took us to the airport where we watched a video chock full of theories about the possible creators of the lines as we awaited our flight. Several hours later we were still waiting and we hadn’t moved any closer to take off. I’m not sure if there were some sort of airplane troubles or if there were just a lot of tourists who had paid more money for their flights who were getting to skip ahead of us in line, but we decided to throw in the towel and head back to town. There we spent the afternoon lounging at a pool in a fancy hotel and attended a lecture about the lines in the evening.
The next day we piled into a 1970s Chevy tank with six other passengers and were taxied through the Nazca desert to the oasis town of Ica. The highlight of Ica besides the great barbecues and swimming pool at our
hostel was dune bugging around and sandboarding down the massive sand dunes in the area. What a rush!! After a painful attempt at trying to go down the massive dunes standing up, our driver recommended laying on our stomachs and hanging on for dear life as we pointed our sandboards straight down the 200 meter dunes. I reckon we reached speeds of 30-40 kilometers an hour. It was absolutely terrifying and we couldn’t get enough of it. What an unexpected highlight of this part of our trip!
One more bus ride with an extremely amped up two year old downing a Coca Cola and we were back in Lima and that was it. Six months and twelve countries later, it was all over except the memories. Two years later, we’re still talking about what an amazing time we had and wondering where our next big adventure might take us.
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kimary
non-member comment
oh my god - a baby??!!!!
that's so exciting you guys! i did think you got swallowed by an anaconda or something else down under. i would love love love to talk to you and see how things are going. can we arrange a phone date? my number is still 336-209-3920. email me good times and hopefully we can set up a little rendez-vous. love, kimary