We woke up bright and early on Groundhog`s day (and Grandpa Howard`s B-day) so that we could get all of our paperwork together to cross into Bolivia. We were going to the Bolivian Consulate to get our VISAs taken care of and hopefully make everything much easier. As we were leaving, someone who worked at our hostel told us that because we were from the US, we would need several vaccinations, including rubella and some other crazy ones. AND if we didn`t want to actually get the shots, we could pay him to make fake paperwork for us. This sounded way to sketchy to us, so we decided to ignore him and just go to the consulate.
Once we got there we talked to the main guy who told us that they were out of United States Visas for that week, so we would have to wait until we got to the border. He did helpfully inform us that only Koreans needed all those crazy vaccinations, and that our yellow fever shot was perfectly fine. We also needed copies of our passports, credit cards, proof we had somewhere to stay in the country and proof that we were planning on leaving the country. And for some reason a passport photo.
We gathered all of the stuff we needed and had about 3 hours until our bus to La Paz. We were out of Soles, but didn`t want to take out more because we were leaving, so we decided to take our leftover Chilean Pesos and exchange them for Soles. I had about 10,000 left, so I got 40 Soles, enough for lunch and some snacks on the bus. Leah had about 7,000 pesos, but half of them were in coins, which the exchange place would not accept. Now she is stuck with all these Chilean coins and can`t use them, much to her annoyance.
So we get to the bus station and the bus driver is all business, asking for our passports, our slips we got when we entered Peru, etc. He asks us if we have the 130 US dollars and copies, which of course we do, but the two American guys behind us had none of that stuff. We started talking to them and they told us that there was NO WAY they were paying 130 bucks and that they didn`t feel like making copies of all their stuff, and they were just going to bullshit their way over the crossing. We decided they were idiots and wanted to cross the border with them to see what happened.
So we get to the border. We have to get off the bus and get official exit stamps from Peru. Afterwords, we walked on a dirt road about 100 yards and suddenly we were in Bolivia. It was pretty strange. We looked for those guys, but didn`t see them anywhere. Whatever. We go into the Bolivian immigration office and suddenly the guys were behind us. They had tried to just walk past the immigration office, but were caught by an officer. We started to fill out forms and it turned out we were the only people from the US and the only ones who took longer than 5 minutes to get stamped. Our bus driver kept telling us to hurry up, but what were we supposed to do?
We were filling out forms, chatting with the nice Bolivian official, everything was going great for us. Not so great for the two guys behind us. When asked for the 130 dollars, they said the didn`t have it and basically shouldn`t have to pay it because it is a ridiculous amount of money for a visa. One of them even refused to go make a copy of his passport, which was really the last straw for the people working at the office. They proceeded to take the two guy`s passports and lock them in a drawer. Then they told them they couldn`t leave. We aren`t really sure what happened to them after that. All we know is, is that they had to get their stuff off of our bus and were still at the border when we left. So let this be a lesson to you if you are ever going to Bolivia, THEY DON`T MESS AROUND.
Then we got to Copacobana and had to switch buses. It was chaos. The same festival in Puno was going on there, so we had to dodge drunk, crazy, dancing people all over the place. When we got on our bus, there was this ridiculouly drunk and woman decked out in a fancy, flashy yellow costume sitting in the wrong seat and singing constantly. Did I mention she was extremely obese? When she was told to go to her own seat, 14, she said okay and then sat in 3. Then passed out for a while in 7. Then finally made it to her seat. After about 5 minutes of driving the bus had to pull over for her and she got off, where I assume she puked.
While I was watching the drunk woman in fascination, Leah was paying attention to what was going on at the front of the bus. Apparently we had no driver at the moment because all of them were insanely drunk from the festival. We sat there for about 45 minutes until a driver was finally found, a man who didn`t drink because he was extremely religious.
Once we got driving everything calmed down, except for an occasional wolf howl from the drunk woman. Then after about an hour, the bus stopped and the driver told us to make sure we had our coats and to get off the bus. We had absolutely no idea what was going on and were kind of freaked out. Fortunately, we asked some people who were on our previous bus what was going on. They informed us that we were going on a boat to cross a river. What?!? No one had mentioned this to us. So we get on this boat and of course, are sitting right by the drunk lady. She sang the entire ride, stood up, fell down, and almost fell off the boat while getting off. She was pretty entertaining.
We got back on the bus and rode two more hours to La Paz. Our luggage was on top of the bus, so when trying to get my heavy suitcase down, the drunk woman stumbled right in front of me, and the suitcase almost fell on her head. The bus driver told her to go home and hopefully she did, but who knows, that woman was crazy. We arrived safely at our hostel, had a drink, and then went to bed.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
PUNO: better than we expected, Part 2
After we left Amantaní Island, we had a nauseating boat ride to the island of Taquile. It was horribly choppy and I definitely thought I was going to be sick for most of it. Thankfully, it was only an hour, so Leah and I hopped off as quickly as possible and slowly walked the 2km journey to the center of town while trying to regain our equilibrium. We are pleased to say that we were totally the strangely attractive tour guide`s favorites because we were the only ones who didn`t complain about the walking or altitude.
Once we got to town we had some coca tea and listened to the history of the island. The most interesting part had to do with the hats the men wore and the shawls the women wore. A man was known to be single or married depending on the color of his hat and the angle it was placed at, while the woman showed this by the size of the colorful balls on their shawls.
After this informative talk, we enjoyed lunch with some Israelies who talked politics with Phil and food and travel with us. They did not understand my desire for Dr. Pepper, but definitely enjoyed our stories of the jungle and Inca Trail. Afterwords, we walked across the island and headed back into Puno.
Luckily for us, Puno was celebrating some festival that went on for days and included a never ending parade of colorful dancers. As soon as we got back we went to the square and sat on the curb, watching the show. At one point we nearly got trampled by horses, but other then that, it was a great experience.
After we got sick of the parades, Phil and I went on a quest to find a place showing the superbowl and Leah went to do some internet stuff. Phil and I found this crazy chicken place that had cable, so we ordered some roasted chicken with fries and sat down to enjoy the game. Tragically, ESPN Latino froze after the first quarter, so 30 minutes later we left the chicken place defeated and returned to the hostel.
We played gin for a while until the man working at the hostel asked to join in. We started playing Gulpes, which is similar to Gin Rummy, which I am terrible at. He had his friend bring some beer and we played this game until Leah got back. I was losing by about 200 pts and the hostel guy harassed me the entire time, telling me to stay postive and that in Puno they believe in being optimistic. He was pretty obnoxious. After a while, I just gave up and went to bed, it was just way too embarassing to continue. Besides, we had to get up early the next day to get our stuff in order, because we were moving on to BOLIVIA!
Once we got to town we had some coca tea and listened to the history of the island. The most interesting part had to do with the hats the men wore and the shawls the women wore. A man was known to be single or married depending on the color of his hat and the angle it was placed at, while the woman showed this by the size of the colorful balls on their shawls.
After this informative talk, we enjoyed lunch with some Israelies who talked politics with Phil and food and travel with us. They did not understand my desire for Dr. Pepper, but definitely enjoyed our stories of the jungle and Inca Trail. Afterwords, we walked across the island and headed back into Puno.
Luckily for us, Puno was celebrating some festival that went on for days and included a never ending parade of colorful dancers. As soon as we got back we went to the square and sat on the curb, watching the show. At one point we nearly got trampled by horses, but other then that, it was a great experience.
After we got sick of the parades, Phil and I went on a quest to find a place showing the superbowl and Leah went to do some internet stuff. Phil and I found this crazy chicken place that had cable, so we ordered some roasted chicken with fries and sat down to enjoy the game. Tragically, ESPN Latino froze after the first quarter, so 30 minutes later we left the chicken place defeated and returned to the hostel.
We played gin for a while until the man working at the hostel asked to join in. We started playing Gulpes, which is similar to Gin Rummy, which I am terrible at. He had his friend bring some beer and we played this game until Leah got back. I was losing by about 200 pts and the hostel guy harassed me the entire time, telling me to stay postive and that in Puno they believe in being optimistic. He was pretty obnoxious. After a while, I just gave up and went to bed, it was just way too embarassing to continue. Besides, we had to get up early the next day to get our stuff in order, because we were moving on to BOLIVIA!
PUNO: better than we expected, Part 1
While Leah is busy typing up the rest of our exciting adventure in the jungle, I thought I would go ahead and discuss our last days in Peru. We decided to go to Puno, which is on Lake Titikaka (apparently pronounced titihaha) and very close to the Bolivian border. We wanted to get all of our stuff together for the crossing because we had heard it was a huge hassle for americans, so we were going to be as prepared as possible. Unfortunately for us, Bolivia had just decided to start enforcing their new rule about americans paying $130 US for a visa. They also decided that we needed to have copies of every single sort of documentation possible, but I will get to that later. First, our weekend in Puno!
We left Cusco on Friday morning and took a painfully long (due to lack of space and hangovers) bus ride to Puno. Basically everyone we talked to told us to avoid Puno, because it was a boring, hellish little town, but we decided to take our chances. We got there around 8 pm, checked into a nice little hostel, and went to dinner.
At the bus station we randomly ran into this man who worked for our hostel, so he arranged a tour of the floating islands and natural islands on Lake Titikaka for us. We basically would get on a boat, see some artificial islands, then go to another island and live with a Peruvian family for a night. Then the next morning we would head to one more island and go back to Puno.
We got up bright and early the next day and were picked up by a shuttle. On this shuttle there was an incredibly annoying group of Argentines, including one man who would not stop playing a pan flute he had just clearly bought two minutes before. He had a little piece of paper with a song on it, and kept trying and failing to play it. I wanted to kill him and desperately hoped he would not be on our tour. Unfortunately, this asshole was and continued to play his pipe the entire time, much to everyones annoyance. At least this is the only thing I can really complain about, otherwise we had a great time.
We climbed aboard a nice boat and were greeted by our tour guide, who Phil thought looked like a Peruvian Yul Brynner and who Leah and I found strangely attractive. Our first stop was the floating islands, which were artificial and made of reeds, which had to be replaced monthly. We got to meet the "president" of the island and got a tour of his hut and he offered to take a picture with Leah if she put on the traditional outfit of the island. Obviously she did. After that we visited some more artificial islands and tried not to step in the wrong place and fall through into the lake.
Next was a 3 hour boat ride (with plenty of flute playing) to the island of Amantaní, which is inhabited by about 5000 people, most of who have never left the island. We got there and were taken in by a family who had a spare bedroom with 3 beds for us. We were relaxing and waiting to be called to dinner when 5 year old Judith walked in and befriended us. She loved my silver bracelets and loved Leahs camera, so overall we were very popular with her. We enjoyed lunch with the family, then made the ridiculous decision to climb a mountain on the island to view the sunset. You would think we had climbed enough mountains for a lifetime, but no, we decided to do one more. We climbed Mt. Pachatata and chilled for about an hour, enjoying the view. Then we returned to our house for dinner.
After dinner we were told we were going to a dance at their community center. Not only were we going to the dance, but we were going to do so wearing the traditional outfits of the island. We put on big white shirts, colorful skirts, belts and shawls, and then realized we could barely breath due to the altitude and tightness of the belts. Despite this issue, we danced, took lots of pictures, and had a great time. Then we went to bed, because we were getting up at 6 am, obviously my favorite hour of the day, to continue on with our tour.
I think the most interesting thing about the island was that they had no cars and no dogs. We were looking at a school book with Judith and when there was a picture of a dog, she would point to it and say gato (cat) instead. I thought it was sad that she could not experience dogs, but Leah said she had no sympathy because the girl had about 15 pet lambs. I guess I can see her point.
We left Cusco on Friday morning and took a painfully long (due to lack of space and hangovers) bus ride to Puno. Basically everyone we talked to told us to avoid Puno, because it was a boring, hellish little town, but we decided to take our chances. We got there around 8 pm, checked into a nice little hostel, and went to dinner.
At the bus station we randomly ran into this man who worked for our hostel, so he arranged a tour of the floating islands and natural islands on Lake Titikaka for us. We basically would get on a boat, see some artificial islands, then go to another island and live with a Peruvian family for a night. Then the next morning we would head to one more island and go back to Puno.
We got up bright and early the next day and were picked up by a shuttle. On this shuttle there was an incredibly annoying group of Argentines, including one man who would not stop playing a pan flute he had just clearly bought two minutes before. He had a little piece of paper with a song on it, and kept trying and failing to play it. I wanted to kill him and desperately hoped he would not be on our tour. Unfortunately, this asshole was and continued to play his pipe the entire time, much to everyones annoyance. At least this is the only thing I can really complain about, otherwise we had a great time.
We climbed aboard a nice boat and were greeted by our tour guide, who Phil thought looked like a Peruvian Yul Brynner and who Leah and I found strangely attractive. Our first stop was the floating islands, which were artificial and made of reeds, which had to be replaced monthly. We got to meet the "president" of the island and got a tour of his hut and he offered to take a picture with Leah if she put on the traditional outfit of the island. Obviously she did. After that we visited some more artificial islands and tried not to step in the wrong place and fall through into the lake.
Next was a 3 hour boat ride (with plenty of flute playing) to the island of Amantaní, which is inhabited by about 5000 people, most of who have never left the island. We got there and were taken in by a family who had a spare bedroom with 3 beds for us. We were relaxing and waiting to be called to dinner when 5 year old Judith walked in and befriended us. She loved my silver bracelets and loved Leahs camera, so overall we were very popular with her. We enjoyed lunch with the family, then made the ridiculous decision to climb a mountain on the island to view the sunset. You would think we had climbed enough mountains for a lifetime, but no, we decided to do one more. We climbed Mt. Pachatata and chilled for about an hour, enjoying the view. Then we returned to our house for dinner.
After dinner we were told we were going to a dance at their community center. Not only were we going to the dance, but we were going to do so wearing the traditional outfits of the island. We put on big white shirts, colorful skirts, belts and shawls, and then realized we could barely breath due to the altitude and tightness of the belts. Despite this issue, we danced, took lots of pictures, and had a great time. Then we went to bed, because we were getting up at 6 am, obviously my favorite hour of the day, to continue on with our tour.
I think the most interesting thing about the island was that they had no cars and no dogs. We were looking at a school book with Judith and when there was a picture of a dog, she would point to it and say gato (cat) instead. I thought it was sad that she could not experience dogs, but Leah said she had no sympathy because the girl had about 15 pet lambs. I guess I can see her point.
Jungle Day 4 and 5
Last night was treacherous indeed. We dined on a log and fried the fish we had just caught. Then we used the 'natural' toilets, down a long jungle path, and hopped in our tents while admitting as few bugs as possible. Our tent was for 2 people, and it was literal: no room even for minibackpacks, twas a matirimonial bed in the wilderness. When we were both in and settled, a beetle appeared. Then ants of all sizes, from bags that had been left outside on the ground all afternoon. The retaining walls broke and Kelly let loose, holding nothing back of her ture jungle emotions. Having had the exact same breakdown on the log crossing the river earlier in the day, I commiserated and was actually impressed she had made it so long in this laugh-or-cry situation.
We made ourselves calm down from the hysteria because the tent was overheating and we couldn't breathe. Sleep overtook us until about 11 pm, when I found myself awake and Kelly whimpering... 'Leah? Are you awake?' We were trapped in the storm of the century, with wind tearing at all sides of the tent and rain blasting us. We started screaming, the worst of our thoughts getting the best of us. What if a branch fell onto us? We clung to the ground. We noticed water leaking in the sides and scurried to close all zippers. Then we lied there in sheer panic for a while until a David Sedaris audiobook put me to sleep.
In the morning we could not possibly have been more reluctant to make one last jungle trek, but we survived and hopped on the long boat for a pleasant 8 hour river ride...very Amazon Trail, my favorite childhood computer game.
We were staying at the same ecohostel we stayed at our first night, the one with the cockaroaches. We knew what to do this time: don't throw bananas in the trash. We though we were golden, until Kelly opened her backpack after dinner and a roach scurried over her fingernail. The Oreo wrapper from earlier in the day. She watched as it and a few friends scurried out of the pack and under my bed, as I yelled for her to kill them, as I was farther away and occuppied brushing my teeth.
What followed was chaotic screaming as Kelly took out her plastic bag used for laundry and could see roaches crawling inside. She ran outside, leaving me in with the roaches and her sneaker, trying to kill as many as I could get to. We called Marco in to help, and he picked up a roach with his hand, then threw it on the floor screaming, 'Kill it, kill it!', which did not make things easier for me. Then he threw one onto my legs, and that was it. I left the hut until Marco assured us they were all gone. Carcasses literred the floor as we fell asleep.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to pee. I ducked out of my net and turned on my flashlight, and saw massive hoards of ants scurrying around the roach bodies. The floor was clean in the morning, and we enjoyed our 8 hour ride back to Cusco. Jungle? Never. Again.
We made ourselves calm down from the hysteria because the tent was overheating and we couldn't breathe. Sleep overtook us until about 11 pm, when I found myself awake and Kelly whimpering... 'Leah? Are you awake?' We were trapped in the storm of the century, with wind tearing at all sides of the tent and rain blasting us. We started screaming, the worst of our thoughts getting the best of us. What if a branch fell onto us? We clung to the ground. We noticed water leaking in the sides and scurried to close all zippers. Then we lied there in sheer panic for a while until a David Sedaris audiobook put me to sleep.
In the morning we could not possibly have been more reluctant to make one last jungle trek, but we survived and hopped on the long boat for a pleasant 8 hour river ride...very Amazon Trail, my favorite childhood computer game.
We were staying at the same ecohostel we stayed at our first night, the one with the cockaroaches. We knew what to do this time: don't throw bananas in the trash. We though we were golden, until Kelly opened her backpack after dinner and a roach scurried over her fingernail. The Oreo wrapper from earlier in the day. She watched as it and a few friends scurried out of the pack and under my bed, as I yelled for her to kill them, as I was farther away and occuppied brushing my teeth.
What followed was chaotic screaming as Kelly took out her plastic bag used for laundry and could see roaches crawling inside. She ran outside, leaving me in with the roaches and her sneaker, trying to kill as many as I could get to. We called Marco in to help, and he picked up a roach with his hand, then threw it on the floor screaming, 'Kill it, kill it!', which did not make things easier for me. Then he threw one onto my legs, and that was it. I left the hut until Marco assured us they were all gone. Carcasses literred the floor as we fell asleep.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to pee. I ducked out of my net and turned on my flashlight, and saw massive hoards of ants scurrying around the roach bodies. The floor was clean in the morning, and we enjoyed our 8 hour ride back to Cusco. Jungle? Never. Again.
Jungle Day 3
In the middle of the night last night, I was awakened by torrential downpours, which is a cliche I have used before, but now I know that I have never meant it. The lightning and thunder were constant, for at least an hour we were in the most devastating part of the storm. It sounded just like Iguazú falls on the corrugated metal roofing. My mosquito bites were killing me, and I lied halfawake for a few hours going in and out of dreams that everything I owned was drowning.
At 630 am, Marco woke us up. There was a large group of squirrel monkeys in the tree on the camp's edge; the same place we spotted a pair of red macaws the night before. The squirrel monkeys were like squirrels with long, thin tails and flat faces, and they were hanging out with 2 capuchin monkeys for protection. They bounced around in the branches, circling the camp and eventually diving for the bananas we left out for them.
Our breakfast was a delicious cake with fresh mango, after which Kelly and I braved the shower stalls where bats hung from the rafters. Smelling wonderfully, we quickly covered ourselves in Fush!, our Argentine bug repellant. But Fush! was no match for the jungle, where clouds of mosquitos tirelessly trailed us.
Our first interaction with the animals came from a wild turkey, who rushed up behind me and pecked my leg. It was uncomfortable. Kelly thought this was laughable but she shortly got hers in a stealth turkey attack.
We spent the next 6 or 7 hours walking in the jungle, tracking footprints and drinking water from vines. It's amazing how well you could survive in the rainforest with just a machete. We saw many colorful birds, insects, and even more monkeys (including night monkeys). At lunch, we went to a salt lick and sat as quitly as possible as a herd of wild pigs came to feed. It was a small group - about 40 or 50 - and they were easily startled, making significant rucus when a branch snapped.
Unfortunately, sitting drew too many bugs, so we left and had a picnic. We trekked to our campsite where our boat was meeting us. To do so, we had to cross many streams, which was normally fine until we reached a deep one with logs suspended for crossing. I was fine until I put a foot on it and termites poured from every crevice. Phil and Kelly got across, with hesitation, but I froze. It was terrifying and I unfroze only enough for my knees to start uncontrollably shaking. Marco chopped down a really tall, thin tree to use as a pole and I made it, and we were off.
Now we're at our camp for the night which involves 2 tents, a boat, and a bench. And lots of bugs. We went fishing, but Phil did not participate because of the giant sores forming on his calves because he neglected to follow advice and wear pants. I caught 3 fish, mostly sardines, and Marco caught 2. Kelly caught nothing, and almost lost her sanity as we both got fed up with mosquito bites.
At 630 am, Marco woke us up. There was a large group of squirrel monkeys in the tree on the camp's edge; the same place we spotted a pair of red macaws the night before. The squirrel monkeys were like squirrels with long, thin tails and flat faces, and they were hanging out with 2 capuchin monkeys for protection. They bounced around in the branches, circling the camp and eventually diving for the bananas we left out for them.
Our breakfast was a delicious cake with fresh mango, after which Kelly and I braved the shower stalls where bats hung from the rafters. Smelling wonderfully, we quickly covered ourselves in Fush!, our Argentine bug repellant. But Fush! was no match for the jungle, where clouds of mosquitos tirelessly trailed us.
Our first interaction with the animals came from a wild turkey, who rushed up behind me and pecked my leg. It was uncomfortable. Kelly thought this was laughable but she shortly got hers in a stealth turkey attack.
We spent the next 6 or 7 hours walking in the jungle, tracking footprints and drinking water from vines. It's amazing how well you could survive in the rainforest with just a machete. We saw many colorful birds, insects, and even more monkeys (including night monkeys). At lunch, we went to a salt lick and sat as quitly as possible as a herd of wild pigs came to feed. It was a small group - about 40 or 50 - and they were easily startled, making significant rucus when a branch snapped.
Unfortunately, sitting drew too many bugs, so we left and had a picnic. We trekked to our campsite where our boat was meeting us. To do so, we had to cross many streams, which was normally fine until we reached a deep one with logs suspended for crossing. I was fine until I put a foot on it and termites poured from every crevice. Phil and Kelly got across, with hesitation, but I froze. It was terrifying and I unfroze only enough for my knees to start uncontrollably shaking. Marco chopped down a really tall, thin tree to use as a pole and I made it, and we were off.
Now we're at our camp for the night which involves 2 tents, a boat, and a bench. And lots of bugs. We went fishing, but Phil did not participate because of the giant sores forming on his calves because he neglected to follow advice and wear pants. I caught 3 fish, mostly sardines, and Marco caught 2. Kelly caught nothing, and almost lost her sanity as we both got fed up with mosquito bites.
Jungle Day 2
Fortunately, in the daylight, insects fled and our room was clear. We had breakfast and went for a walk to see the coca plantation, which is legal to grow in small quantities, plus pineapple and banana trees. We found a berry that makes a coral stain which Maro used to give Phil warrior facepaint and Kelly and me lipstick.
We had a 2 hour drive and then a 6 hour boat ride. The boat was extremely long, yet wide enough for only 2 people. The breezy ride felt amazing, and we passed great egrets and black cormorants and vultures feasting on dea tapirs and capayberras. We stopped for lunch at a natural hot spring, which was situated in the curve of a brook that fed into the river.
Now we have arrived at our ecolodge, where we lie weating in our netted beds to avoid the bugs and the sun. It is painful.
.....several hours pass.....
Tonight was a step closer to nature than I was ready to take (and I have a feeling tomorrow night might be one step too far). As dusk came, we took a walk in the jungle. We ate assorted wild fruit and waded through streams in our knee-high boots. Marco spotted a cayman from about 20 meters away in the pitch black. He saw the reflection of it's eyes and declared it to be medium-sized. Then he escaped up river, threw his clothes off on a sandbar, and waded down to the cayman to catch it. We waited, flashlights off, with his machete lying in the river bed by us. A lot of good it was going to do there. But Marco stepped on a branch and the snap scared away the cayman, so he promised us one for tomorrow night.
We saw some spiders, but no tarantulas, and mad our way back for a candlelit (and candlecooked, by lack of electricity) dinner. After Phil and Marco played chess and Kelly and I took shelter in our mosquito nets.
We had a 2 hour drive and then a 6 hour boat ride. The boat was extremely long, yet wide enough for only 2 people. The breezy ride felt amazing, and we passed great egrets and black cormorants and vultures feasting on dea tapirs and capayberras. We stopped for lunch at a natural hot spring, which was situated in the curve of a brook that fed into the river.
Now we have arrived at our ecolodge, where we lie weating in our netted beds to avoid the bugs and the sun. It is painful.
.....several hours pass.....
Tonight was a step closer to nature than I was ready to take (and I have a feeling tomorrow night might be one step too far). As dusk came, we took a walk in the jungle. We ate assorted wild fruit and waded through streams in our knee-high boots. Marco spotted a cayman from about 20 meters away in the pitch black. He saw the reflection of it's eyes and declared it to be medium-sized. Then he escaped up river, threw his clothes off on a sandbar, and waded down to the cayman to catch it. We waited, flashlights off, with his machete lying in the river bed by us. A lot of good it was going to do there. But Marco stepped on a branch and the snap scared away the cayman, so he promised us one for tomorrow night.
We saw some spiders, but no tarantulas, and mad our way back for a candlelit (and candlecooked, by lack of electricity) dinner. After Phil and Marco played chess and Kelly and I took shelter in our mosquito nets.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Jungle Day 1
Our 5 day too-long journey into Manu Park reserve will also be transcribed from the journal I kept. Here we go:
Jan 24
What one might label as a hostel is not what one would find in our eco'hostel' in Manu park. Already drenched with bug bites from our lunch break in the cloud forest, I'm sitting ensconced in white netting on my bed in the reed hut Kelly and I will share tonight. The netting hangs in a square, and we appear to be frozen in giant blocks of ice that will not melt despite the heat and humidity.
The day started off at 630 am when we met Marco, our guide. He pulled up a half hour late in a pickup truck with our driver and cook. The math did't work. Where would we all sit? After trying 4 in the back of the cab and discovering that 3 Americans made this a big snug, the 2 peruvians squeezed in the front.
We drove for about an hour on the highway, and then that was done. Nice while it lasted. What followed were many hours of gravel and pot-holed single-lane dirt roads edging along Andean cliffs. It was terrifying as we swerved through mud and backed up to avoid oncoming trucks. We passed farming women in colorful traditional woven clothes herding sheep, cos, and pigs out of our way. We stopped in the smallest town imagineable for breakfast, where we sat at a communal picnic table and were ladeled chicken soup. Not able to stomach the chicken so early, we left it and bought some orange cake...then squeezed back in the truck's cab for more bumpy hours of ascent.
Descent was also bumpy. Climate changed rapidly as we switched over to the eastern side of the mountain and entered the cloud forest. After several hous going down, we got out and walked to look for monkeys, which it turns out I am not skilled at spotting. I was looking in all the wrong places - turns out you're supposed to look across the river, way out in the distance. Marco spotted wooley monkeys there, which just looked like black specks to me. Sometimes they moved. I wasn't impressed.
Along the walk we saw plenty of hummingbirds and orchids. Also a cock-on-the-rock, which is a highly endangered bird that I think is only found in this region. So we felt pretty special.
Kelly spotted movement in a tree up ahead - Capuchin monkeys. We slowly approached but didn't get close until Marco ran to the truck and back to get bananas for bait. Capuchins are much less shy than wolly monkeys, so they were very close. There ended up being a whole treefull of them, about 15, some with babies on their backs and one very intimidating male. We fed them bananas on short sticks, getting withing a meter of them. They spread out a bit and I threw a piece of banana at one; it arcehd high and he held out his little monkey palms together, like a beggar, and awaited the fly ball. The other monkeys were jealous so this became a favorite game. That was pretty much as exciting as the drive got.
After dinner, when we looked up at the stars (which were amazingly brilliant), a bat almost took Kelly's head off. Fortunately, the bats were doing a good job, because mosquitos were uncommon. But it was all too noticable as we turned on the light that cockaroaches they were not hunting.
Kelly's eyes darted around the room, counting as many as possible, as mine moved toward the mosquito netting around my bed, which was being invaded inside and out by a colony of ants. Kelly screamed and I jumped, narrowly avoiding a cockaroach scurrying towards my foot.
We collected ourselves using reason: if everyone else can sleep in the presence of these insects, so can we. So I went to the bathroom to wash my face. At this point, I remember the banana peel sealed in a plastic bag I had deposited in the trash earlier. It was now being swarmed by ants, traversing the entire bathroom, even the toilet. Four to six cockaroaches clung to the plastic, and Kelly ran. We could barely sleep.
Jan 24
What one might label as a hostel is not what one would find in our eco'hostel' in Manu park. Already drenched with bug bites from our lunch break in the cloud forest, I'm sitting ensconced in white netting on my bed in the reed hut Kelly and I will share tonight. The netting hangs in a square, and we appear to be frozen in giant blocks of ice that will not melt despite the heat and humidity.
The day started off at 630 am when we met Marco, our guide. He pulled up a half hour late in a pickup truck with our driver and cook. The math did't work. Where would we all sit? After trying 4 in the back of the cab and discovering that 3 Americans made this a big snug, the 2 peruvians squeezed in the front.
We drove for about an hour on the highway, and then that was done. Nice while it lasted. What followed were many hours of gravel and pot-holed single-lane dirt roads edging along Andean cliffs. It was terrifying as we swerved through mud and backed up to avoid oncoming trucks. We passed farming women in colorful traditional woven clothes herding sheep, cos, and pigs out of our way. We stopped in the smallest town imagineable for breakfast, where we sat at a communal picnic table and were ladeled chicken soup. Not able to stomach the chicken so early, we left it and bought some orange cake...then squeezed back in the truck's cab for more bumpy hours of ascent.
Descent was also bumpy. Climate changed rapidly as we switched over to the eastern side of the mountain and entered the cloud forest. After several hous going down, we got out and walked to look for monkeys, which it turns out I am not skilled at spotting. I was looking in all the wrong places - turns out you're supposed to look across the river, way out in the distance. Marco spotted wooley monkeys there, which just looked like black specks to me. Sometimes they moved. I wasn't impressed.
Along the walk we saw plenty of hummingbirds and orchids. Also a cock-on-the-rock, which is a highly endangered bird that I think is only found in this region. So we felt pretty special.
Kelly spotted movement in a tree up ahead - Capuchin monkeys. We slowly approached but didn't get close until Marco ran to the truck and back to get bananas for bait. Capuchins are much less shy than wolly monkeys, so they were very close. There ended up being a whole treefull of them, about 15, some with babies on their backs and one very intimidating male. We fed them bananas on short sticks, getting withing a meter of them. They spread out a bit and I threw a piece of banana at one; it arcehd high and he held out his little monkey palms together, like a beggar, and awaited the fly ball. The other monkeys were jealous so this became a favorite game. That was pretty much as exciting as the drive got.
After dinner, when we looked up at the stars (which were amazingly brilliant), a bat almost took Kelly's head off. Fortunately, the bats were doing a good job, because mosquitos were uncommon. But it was all too noticable as we turned on the light that cockaroaches they were not hunting.
Kelly's eyes darted around the room, counting as many as possible, as mine moved toward the mosquito netting around my bed, which was being invaded inside and out by a colony of ants. Kelly screamed and I jumped, narrowly avoiding a cockaroach scurrying towards my foot.
We collected ourselves using reason: if everyone else can sleep in the presence of these insects, so can we. So I went to the bathroom to wash my face. At this point, I remember the banana peel sealed in a plastic bag I had deposited in the trash earlier. It was now being swarmed by ants, traversing the entire bathroom, even the toilet. Four to six cockaroaches clung to the plastic, and Kelly ran. We could barely sleep.
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