Around 3:00 AM I was aware of latin beats, not music, just beats. A disco two buildings away was in full swing, the heavy bass was conveyed through the concrete structure we shared. I got dressed and went downstairs. This time I was not locked in, as has happened twice, but I had no key to the front door, so after springing the latch to leave I propped so that it appeared secure althought it really wasn´t. I made my way over to the disco and with one glance determined that these people were far more energetic that I could hope to be at this time and headed back to my room. I didn´t want to watch TV and had nothing to do by a guy in private can always find a way to pass time.
Dawn broke and I dressed and headed down the stairs. The streets were nearly vacant and I walked them all.
A woman sat a table with three types of juices and cheese sandwiches. A bearded old Incan was eating a guacamole sandwich. When an Incan grows a beard, it looks like those Chinese beards; Incans do not have much facial hair. I ordered a drink and a sandwich. The drink was hot and viscous. We chatted for a bit and I asked her to write down what was in the drink, I guess the thought I was asking for a tab and wrote me out a bill for 10 sols, 5 for the drink and 5 for the sandwhich. These sandwiches sell for 1 sol everywhere. A complaint that the sandwich was only worth 1 sol met with a response of 2, so now my bill was 7 sols. I paid the tab and walked 50 feet down the sidewalk and asked the price of the sandwich and the drink. They were one sol apiece.
I returned to the woman and said, ¨"por ahi" and pointed to the sandwich "uno sol" and then pointed to the drink and said "uno sol". Then I looked at her with disdain and said "precio especial gringo." "Si". "Necessito recompsar cinco sol" and stuck out my hand. She unabashedly gave my a five sol coin after having acknowledged that she had ripped me off.
I bought ¨Lost City of the Incas" by Hiram Bingham, the "scientific discoverer" of Machu Picchu. He is so named because many people knew of its existence, a German had been there and written his name on the wall, it was on an official Peruvian map, etc. I also bought the best canteen ever, a strap with a giant cup holder for a 1.5 liter bottle, you forget you are even wearing it. Best of all it has intricate patterns had woven by the Inca craftsmen and says "Machu Picchu on it." Cost? 10 Sol about $3.75.
A saw a sign that said "Zona Seguridad". This wasn´t fenced off or anything, just a bunch of steps disappearing into the jungle. I supposed that the only thing they were securing in this zone was the wildlife so I ascended the steps admiring everything around me, the lichen covered stone steps, the dense foilage and as I climbed higher, the river, the mountains and finally I was higher than the clouds, not much of an achievement in the cloud forest. Still higher I ran out of steps and continued on a narrow, steep trail off into the jungle. Where is my damn walking stick? Climbing something like this is easier than going down, on your way up you can grab what lies ahead. Although the weather was perfect for strenous climbing I didn´t look forward to the walk down so I turned around and headed back down the trail. After a hundred yards or so I encountered a 50 pound dog barking aggressively alternating with growls who was soon backed up by another dog of comparable size. ¨"This is not good." Still, I had the high ground. I yelled at them and in response a disembodied voice called the dogs off. Continuing down the trail I met the dog´s master, a male youth clad in laceless boots and appropriately carrying a machete. We exchanged civilities and the dogs circled behind him as I continued my descent. When I reached the top of the stairs the dog I had first encountered came back to challenge me again. As he approached I slipped, falling towards him, yelling as I did so. That sent the dog with his tail between his legs 50 feet faster than I could possibly have imagined.
Presently the youth reappeared, holding a 2 meter stalk of some leafy plant. I asked what it was for and he told me it was to feed his guinea pigs. That short conversation consisted of "¿para qué?" "cuy". At the base of the stairs I thought, "Now what?" I discovered a sidewalk with fresh water gutters on either side, obviously feed by some clean water source and followed them through a forest like setting, but that took no more than 20 minutes. Next, I found the tourist office and inquired what there was to do in this town and was told about some waterfalls 4 kilometers away. Great!
The provisioning process was more of the same with the local I met. This time I was prepared, I picked up a 1.5 liter bottle of water and put it on the counter. "¿Quenta Costo?" "Cinco." "Quattro" and I put it down and started to walk out the door, "Quattro" she accepted four rather the five she was asking.
Spying a bag of energy mints I asked the price same bullshit, she said 10, I said 5 in Cusco she told me transportation... yeah right... and we settled on 6 then I bought another type of mint with which I was not familiar. Out in front of the store I found a policeman and asked him for the directions to the trailhead and he pointed it out for me. I pulled out my mints, which he eyed, so I offered him one, holding two different types. He chose one and I asked him why that one, his reply? More coca.
The walk along the railroad track was very scenic by itself. I encountered a couple that were going to climb a nearby mountain, which they pointed out. Apparently it is a difficult climb and in places you have to use ill-maintained wooden ladders affixed to the wall. How tall are some of these ladders? Up to 30 meters, that´s 100 feet... no thank you.
When I arrived at the gardens I was suprised to find that it was actually a woman´s yard. She owned untold hectare of spectacular wilderness 2 1/2 miles from town, a town that has no cars and can only be reached by train. She posed for a picture while wearing my hat and declared the we were now amigos. I paid the 10 sol price and she showed me around her gardens and all of the orchids with no flowers because it has been raining too much. Wait where are the waterfalls? She walked me across the road, opened the gate that was seemingly locked with a chain and padlock but with a flip of the lock over a rail the chain swung free, she opened the gate and we entered. She pointed out many plants as we walked down the trail and then told me that I could continue for 15 minutes and see a small water fall, then 15 minutes more and see a bigger one. It was a fantastic walk, I won´t describe it, I will include the pictures when I have more bandwith.
I was back on the railroad track I had followed out, heading back into town. Every couple hundred yards was a number of people with group sizes from 1 to 5 all heading into Agua Caliente from Santa Theresa a five hour trek. I came off the trail just as PYT was passing and stepped up next to her and told her she was almost there, only four kilometers to go. That brought a big smile to her 24 year old Swiss face. I stopped to take a picture or two and she was 100 yards down the trail. I continued walking but I noticed she was gaining me. Now I was shamed. She was wearing a pack and was at the end of a five hour trek. Using her as my pacesetter I decided to catch up with her. We talked for 15 minutes but I decided to cutoff and go to the botanical garden.
I walked around town, negotiating the best price for a guinea pig dinner, then took a bunch of pictures of fabrics for a friend. Wish I could have gone to some village and watched people make this stuff. Finally I had dinner. I don´t see what is so great about guinea pig. The pile of bones when I was done had a skull with eyes and teeth prominent.
"I told you we´d see him again!!!" My travelling companions had stayed at the hostel having already booked 3 nights I had checked out and found other accomodations. When I inquired as to their whereabouts the woman pointed at the 9 o´clock checkout time, which I thought meant that they were no longer there. They were out to grab dinner and the 4 for 1 happy hour special. I said, they are everywhere on the street to the hot springs, and they all offer free nachos. It was not possible pass a restaurant without having someone accost you with a menu. We found a spot and chatted while they noshed and a band set up across the street, played 3 or 4 tunes, sold some CD´s and moved on. We agreed to meet in Cusco on Monday if at all possible, exchanged emails and went in pursuit of or respective objectives.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Machu Picchu
Woke up at 3 and decided to head out. I wasn´t going to get back to sleep anyway. I knocked on the door of my travelling companions, Ben and Mark with whom I had seen the Sacred Valley the prior day. Ben affirmed that he was up and I told them that I would meet them at the station.
Went to bus station, made it first in line. Need to be one of the first 400 to get the climbing pass.
I laid down on the ground, with my head and back on my backpack. Two stray doys adopted me, sniffing heavily in my ear. When a couple of earlier walkers passed the dogs charged them barking heavily and stopped barking when I yelled "quiet!". Great, they probably think that they are my mutts. Presently a guard came over and told me I couldn´t sit there. Presenting my ticket I tried to explain that I just had to be on one of the first buses. He gestured to a spot further down the sidewalk plainly marked with an ordinary trash can lid and indicated that I should sit on the other side and I obliged him.
Ben came up to me and said they were just going to walk to Machu Picchu; may as well warm up rather than sit around. I sure wasn´t in a walking frame of mind or body.
With nothing else to do the guard visited me again in five minutes and by this time my gastrointestinal distress was providing short notice of a serious situation. The guard responded to my request for the location of the nearest public bathroom (oh, no, not again) and told me I would have to go back to my hotel. I gave a look of great distress and said that was not possible. He was kind enough to allow me into the guard station to use the guard toilet. The toilet had a seat, there was toilet paper and soap in the room, life was good. Water dripped from the tank at the junction of the supply line to the tank and the floor was wet, but, just hold your pants. Figuring that the speed with with this onset occurred was indication of things to come I thanked him profusely and gave him a 10 sol note, about 3 1/2 dollars. He thanked me. I went back to my spot and he came out and thanked me profusely; I now owned him.
About 3:30 an Inca woman sat down next to me and tried to say something but I told her I demonstrated my fluency in Spanish and she gave up. So we sat silently. The guard came out and spying someone with whom he could have a conversation and decided to tell this woman about my GI problem. Then he told me that coca was good for it. So I pulled out my bag and gnoshed a few leaves and offered some to the woman, who gratefully took the large portion I handed her, tweaked of the stems and we chawed together.
The previous night around 10:00 the guide told us that we had to be at the station at 3:45 if we wanted to get our ??? ticket. Apparently this well kept secret is the word. At 3:43 three Israelis came and set up camp, boiling water, making tea. Within two minutes people started trickling in by the twos and threes. By four there were at least one hundred people in line. By this time I had prevailed on the guard to use the facilities at least twice more. As we were best friends he told me his name was Washington. That is the second Washington I´ve met in Peru. I met two Nixons in Columbia, both Colombianos and named after the U.S. president.
By 5:00 I had used the facilities several more times and the line was over 100 yards long. Soon a large group of Israelis decided that it was appropriate that they join their friends who had been there 75 minutes earlier, cutting in front of hundreds of people, ensuring that they would get there tickets at the expense of people who had paid the dues of getting up early.
At 5:30 we boarded the bus and headed out for the short ride. When we pulled up the people were swarming out of the second bus and the late arriving Israelis on our bus were all elbows and assholes heading for the ticket man. They held out passes for their friends, who probably were still in bed saying "This is my wife´s." "Where is she?" Over there, pointing to some random woman. I got my ticket and stepped away from the crowd.
Ben asked if I got the group 2 ticket, the premier one that allows entrance at 10 and I replied affirmatively. The group 2 tickets are premier because the members of group 1 have to vacate the mountain in order to allow group 2, but there is not group 3 so group 2 can loiter as long as they want.
We found our guide, who passed us over to our tour guide and we proceeded on the tour. Before passing through the main gate one ascends to a spot just below the original guard tower, the spot from which the classic National Geographic picture was taken. Everybody posed for their "Me, at Machu Picchu" shot. The group was heading through the main gate; I told Ben where I needed to go. He offered an Imodium and I accepted and headed back down to the only bathrooms, located outside the entrance. This was truly going to suck.
Our guide saw me sitting on a bench I explained what happened. He told me that he had another group going at 10:30. Within 45 minutes I felt emboldened enough to venture on and reclimbed the steps and entered through the gate. The groups walk a couple of steps and pause for a 10 to 15 minute explaination of the spot. With no pacer I just charged around up, down and accross. I counted the number of stairs and looked backed recollected my path and I figured I had climbed 800 stairs since arriving.
Thrice more I was ordered back to the front gate by some vile bacilli from the nasty hands of a chicken roaster in Cusco. On the third occassion I met Ben and Mark they wanted to know if I was ready for the climb. I don´t think I want to be that far from the facilities. I gave my precious ticket to my guide hoping that he could find somebody that could use it and went off with the 10:30 group. Much of what he had to say I had heard from other guides during my previous explorations. Having read a few web articles I was able to provide more detailed answers to some peoples questions than the guide could especially about Yale "borrowing" thousands of artifacts that have never been returned. The guide was pretty bitter about it.
After stopping for lunch I made yet another round and the place was really beginning to thin out. Unless you plan on climbing ??? don´t leave before the afternoon. When I have time I will post some pictures and you will see that 90% of the people are gone by 2:00 at least on the day I was there. I also found the lighting, with shadows provided more interesting photographic opportunities.
By 4:00 I couldn´t take it any more. Three days of next to no sleep, dehydrated and malnourished I took the next bus back to town, which I will refer to as Agua Caliente although the name is Poblado Machu Picchu.
Having arrived after dark and having left before dawn I had no idea what the town looked like. Three rivers, a waterfall, brick walkways, no roads, no cars; charming. I went to the ticket office for the train station and damn, where is the bathroom? The toilet paper supply was the usual for public accomodations, none. I had no time. My personal carry stash was exhausted. Thank god for my notebook which contains several pages less than it did formerly. It joined the rest of the paper in the trash can, which is where everything that doesn´t exit your body goes. Can´t somebody, somewhere install proper waste sized plumbing? No soap? Great at least I have my alcohol based hand cleaner.
Back at the ticket counter I changed my ticket. Saturday was fully subscribed so set my return ticket to Sunday at the same time, figuring that´s when the tour company comes every day. The return ticket is not all the way to Cusco but to a town in the Sacred Valley.
After an hour I found suitable accomodations, with a fantastic location. Even I could locate it. With a mountain that towers over everything and being able to tell any of the rivers apart by site and being able to observe current directions I could ascertain the way home at a glance. Most people have less spatial orientation problems than I do. Put me in the jungle and I can find my way back. Drive me down a road and make a few turns and my mind had already gone off track.
By 5:00 I was in bed. Even the construction noises didn´t bother me and they stopped soon anyway and drifted off to blissful needed sleep.
Went to bus station, made it first in line. Need to be one of the first 400 to get the climbing pass.
I laid down on the ground, with my head and back on my backpack. Two stray doys adopted me, sniffing heavily in my ear. When a couple of earlier walkers passed the dogs charged them barking heavily and stopped barking when I yelled "quiet!". Great, they probably think that they are my mutts. Presently a guard came over and told me I couldn´t sit there. Presenting my ticket I tried to explain that I just had to be on one of the first buses. He gestured to a spot further down the sidewalk plainly marked with an ordinary trash can lid and indicated that I should sit on the other side and I obliged him.
Ben came up to me and said they were just going to walk to Machu Picchu; may as well warm up rather than sit around. I sure wasn´t in a walking frame of mind or body.
With nothing else to do the guard visited me again in five minutes and by this time my gastrointestinal distress was providing short notice of a serious situation. The guard responded to my request for the location of the nearest public bathroom (oh, no, not again) and told me I would have to go back to my hotel. I gave a look of great distress and said that was not possible. He was kind enough to allow me into the guard station to use the guard toilet. The toilet had a seat, there was toilet paper and soap in the room, life was good. Water dripped from the tank at the junction of the supply line to the tank and the floor was wet, but, just hold your pants. Figuring that the speed with with this onset occurred was indication of things to come I thanked him profusely and gave him a 10 sol note, about 3 1/2 dollars. He thanked me. I went back to my spot and he came out and thanked me profusely; I now owned him.
About 3:30 an Inca woman sat down next to me and tried to say something but I told her I demonstrated my fluency in Spanish and she gave up. So we sat silently. The guard came out and spying someone with whom he could have a conversation and decided to tell this woman about my GI problem. Then he told me that coca was good for it. So I pulled out my bag and gnoshed a few leaves and offered some to the woman, who gratefully took the large portion I handed her, tweaked of the stems and we chawed together.
The previous night around 10:00 the guide told us that we had to be at the station at 3:45 if we wanted to get our ??? ticket. Apparently this well kept secret is the word. At 3:43 three Israelis came and set up camp, boiling water, making tea. Within two minutes people started trickling in by the twos and threes. By four there were at least one hundred people in line. By this time I had prevailed on the guard to use the facilities at least twice more. As we were best friends he told me his name was Washington. That is the second Washington I´ve met in Peru. I met two Nixons in Columbia, both Colombianos and named after the U.S. president.
By 5:00 I had used the facilities several more times and the line was over 100 yards long. Soon a large group of Israelis decided that it was appropriate that they join their friends who had been there 75 minutes earlier, cutting in front of hundreds of people, ensuring that they would get there tickets at the expense of people who had paid the dues of getting up early.
At 5:30 we boarded the bus and headed out for the short ride. When we pulled up the people were swarming out of the second bus and the late arriving Israelis on our bus were all elbows and assholes heading for the ticket man. They held out passes for their friends, who probably were still in bed saying "This is my wife´s." "Where is she?" Over there, pointing to some random woman. I got my ticket and stepped away from the crowd.
Ben asked if I got the group 2 ticket, the premier one that allows entrance at 10 and I replied affirmatively. The group 2 tickets are premier because the members of group 1 have to vacate the mountain in order to allow group 2, but there is not group 3 so group 2 can loiter as long as they want.
We found our guide, who passed us over to our tour guide and we proceeded on the tour. Before passing through the main gate one ascends to a spot just below the original guard tower, the spot from which the classic National Geographic picture was taken. Everybody posed for their "Me, at Machu Picchu" shot. The group was heading through the main gate; I told Ben where I needed to go. He offered an Imodium and I accepted and headed back down to the only bathrooms, located outside the entrance. This was truly going to suck.
Our guide saw me sitting on a bench I explained what happened. He told me that he had another group going at 10:30. Within 45 minutes I felt emboldened enough to venture on and reclimbed the steps and entered through the gate. The groups walk a couple of steps and pause for a 10 to 15 minute explaination of the spot. With no pacer I just charged around up, down and accross. I counted the number of stairs and looked backed recollected my path and I figured I had climbed 800 stairs since arriving.
Thrice more I was ordered back to the front gate by some vile bacilli from the nasty hands of a chicken roaster in Cusco. On the third occassion I met Ben and Mark they wanted to know if I was ready for the climb. I don´t think I want to be that far from the facilities. I gave my precious ticket to my guide hoping that he could find somebody that could use it and went off with the 10:30 group. Much of what he had to say I had heard from other guides during my previous explorations. Having read a few web articles I was able to provide more detailed answers to some peoples questions than the guide could especially about Yale "borrowing" thousands of artifacts that have never been returned. The guide was pretty bitter about it.
After stopping for lunch I made yet another round and the place was really beginning to thin out. Unless you plan on climbing ??? don´t leave before the afternoon. When I have time I will post some pictures and you will see that 90% of the people are gone by 2:00 at least on the day I was there. I also found the lighting, with shadows provided more interesting photographic opportunities.
By 4:00 I couldn´t take it any more. Three days of next to no sleep, dehydrated and malnourished I took the next bus back to town, which I will refer to as Agua Caliente although the name is Poblado Machu Picchu.
Having arrived after dark and having left before dawn I had no idea what the town looked like. Three rivers, a waterfall, brick walkways, no roads, no cars; charming. I went to the ticket office for the train station and damn, where is the bathroom? The toilet paper supply was the usual for public accomodations, none. I had no time. My personal carry stash was exhausted. Thank god for my notebook which contains several pages less than it did formerly. It joined the rest of the paper in the trash can, which is where everything that doesn´t exit your body goes. Can´t somebody, somewhere install proper waste sized plumbing? No soap? Great at least I have my alcohol based hand cleaner.
Back at the ticket counter I changed my ticket. Saturday was fully subscribed so set my return ticket to Sunday at the same time, figuring that´s when the tour company comes every day. The return ticket is not all the way to Cusco but to a town in the Sacred Valley.
After an hour I found suitable accomodations, with a fantastic location. Even I could locate it. With a mountain that towers over everything and being able to tell any of the rivers apart by site and being able to observe current directions I could ascertain the way home at a glance. Most people have less spatial orientation problems than I do. Put me in the jungle and I can find my way back. Drive me down a road and make a few turns and my mind had already gone off track.
By 5:00 I was in bed. Even the construction noises didn´t bother me and they stopped soon anyway and drifted off to blissful needed sleep.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Three Nights without Sleep
5/23 I was on a bus travelling through the Andes through continual switchbacks sitting in a seat. Although the seat was comfortable and reclined well I only caught a couple of hours of sleep.
5/24 I stayed at a residence 8 blocks out of Cusco town center. One to thirty dogs barked all night long. People yelled to each other from one end to the other of the 100 meter corridor down the side of the building from the pitch I think they were using bullhorns. Funny it is a very quiet area in the daytime.
5/25 The death blow, I couldn't deal with the noise and told my host I had to sleep elsewhere. I found a hotel right on town center. El Chaski Hotel had a room on the main floor of the hotel, right behind the breakfast area. Town center is quiet and this provided me three doors between me and the street.
Desparately needing sleep I went to bed around 9. I had not counted on the sound of large numbers of people wearing packs and hiking boots treading up and down the wooden staircase but three meters from my glass walled room. The sound of heavy furniture being moved on wooden floors thundered down into my room. The reception phone rang. Simple conversations sounded like they were taking place on my bed. Somebody had come to the coffee area to make a phone call based on the obvious sound of one sided conversations. I stepped out of my room to glare at him. He was skyping somebody. He informed me that he would be but two minutes more.
A slight delay and then the buzzer for admission went off, about 10 times in a row. Then the poor guest started knocking on the door, loudly. In most of these places there is way for a guest to unlock the door, and I didn't have the key. The knocking turned to enormous banging for 15 minutes, the large heavy door resonating like the world's largest subwoofer.
After about a fifteen minute delay, it was now four or so in the morning, it started again, not quite as loud but much more persistent. I walked down the stairs to see if I could find a way to open the door, but that had been accomplished. The lower part of the three sectioned door was about a foot away from the rest of the door but still standing upright. Why didn't the guy just drop the panel and come in? It was the national police investigating the break in. I invited them in and showed them that reception was empty. Then I pointed to the room that was occupied by a woman who kept shouting "Collin!" as the first set of bangs was going on.
The police stomped around in their heavy boots. Excited loud conversations filled the air for another hour or so. After a brief lull, the noise picked up again with guests leaving, presumably for the early train to Macchu Pichu.
What does anybody who can sleep through a racket like that use for an alarm clock?
I hope I get some sleep tonight.
5/24 I stayed at a residence 8 blocks out of Cusco town center. One to thirty dogs barked all night long. People yelled to each other from one end to the other of the 100 meter corridor down the side of the building from the pitch I think they were using bullhorns. Funny it is a very quiet area in the daytime.
5/25 The death blow, I couldn't deal with the noise and told my host I had to sleep elsewhere. I found a hotel right on town center. El Chaski Hotel had a room on the main floor of the hotel, right behind the breakfast area. Town center is quiet and this provided me three doors between me and the street.
Desparately needing sleep I went to bed around 9. I had not counted on the sound of large numbers of people wearing packs and hiking boots treading up and down the wooden staircase but three meters from my glass walled room. The sound of heavy furniture being moved on wooden floors thundered down into my room. The reception phone rang. Simple conversations sounded like they were taking place on my bed. Somebody had come to the coffee area to make a phone call based on the obvious sound of one sided conversations. I stepped out of my room to glare at him. He was skyping somebody. He informed me that he would be but two minutes more.
A slight delay and then the buzzer for admission went off, about 10 times in a row. Then the poor guest started knocking on the door, loudly. In most of these places there is way for a guest to unlock the door, and I didn't have the key. The knocking turned to enormous banging for 15 minutes, the large heavy door resonating like the world's largest subwoofer.
After about a fifteen minute delay, it was now four or so in the morning, it started again, not quite as loud but much more persistent. I walked down the stairs to see if I could find a way to open the door, but that had been accomplished. The lower part of the three sectioned door was about a foot away from the rest of the door but still standing upright. Why didn't the guy just drop the panel and come in? It was the national police investigating the break in. I invited them in and showed them that reception was empty. Then I pointed to the room that was occupied by a woman who kept shouting "Collin!" as the first set of bangs was going on.
The police stomped around in their heavy boots. Excited loud conversations filled the air for another hour or so. After a brief lull, the noise picked up again with guests leaving, presumably for the early train to Macchu Pichu.
What does anybody who can sleep through a racket like that use for an alarm clock?
I hope I get some sleep tonight.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Heed your own advice
After my 23 hour bus ride through the Andes I finally arrived in Cusco. I called the number my coach surfing host had provided to let him know that I had arrived and then directed a taxi to take me to the specified meet location. Our journey was but ten minutes and he was there to greet me, took my bags, shook my hand warmly like we were lifelong friends and then we walked a couple of hundred meters to an alley of sorts and ascended a long flight of stairs. I was wearing my pack and was now at an altitude of 3,400 meters having just spent a while at no more than a couple of hundred meters above sea level. Our pace was governed by my host, but it was obvious that after climbing the long steep flight of stairs that sitting down would be welcome even if I had just spent the last 23 hours on my ass.
There was little food served on the bus and I asked Ronnie if he wanted to go out to eat. He indicated that he wasn't hungry but he would take me to a good restaurant that served chicken. We sat at a table that had some crema splattered on it and I looked around the place suspiciously. Spotting what was obviously the bathroom I told Ronnie that I need to wash my hands before I ate. This announcement was met with the statement that the bathroom might not be too clean.
The toilet sat on a concrete floor, the water in the bowl was brown soup and there was no sink but a spigot stuck out of the wall. There was no soap available.
Ok, I have to catch my bus, but thats how I got the food poisoning that made me use the Cusco public bathrooms.
There was little food served on the bus and I asked Ronnie if he wanted to go out to eat. He indicated that he wasn't hungry but he would take me to a good restaurant that served chicken. We sat at a table that had some crema splattered on it and I looked around the place suspiciously. Spotting what was obviously the bathroom I told Ronnie that I need to wash my hands before I ate. This announcement was met with the statement that the bathroom might not be too clean.
The toilet sat on a concrete floor, the water in the bowl was brown soup and there was no sink but a spigot stuck out of the wall. There was no soap available.
Ok, I have to catch my bus, but thats how I got the food poisoning that made me use the Cusco public bathrooms.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
New Backpack
I don't get it. I couldn't find a backpack with a frame Panama City, Medellin, or Bogota. Now I'm in Lima, a city with far more people than the entire state of Michigan. I figured if I couldn't get a backpack here I was doomed to carrying a boat bag for months. Two people at the hotel sent me to a large grocery store, which was far from a supermarket; it just carried groceries.
When I returned to the hotel, the front door was locked as always, but this time nobody replied to the bell. After a few frustrating minutes the cook, waiter, front office clerk, maid and concierge walked up the street. He apologized profusely, "Lo siento Jaime" and then pushed a hidden panel in the door, without using a key, reached through and undid the lock. I asked him to call around to find a store at which I could buy a backpack. Five minutes later he returned with a large pack a bit worn but eminently servicable and offered to sell it to me for 40. "Sols?" I enquired and he confirmed. Seventeen bucks for a framed backpack? I checked it out. The strap waist strap was just about severed and asked if he could take it to a tailor or shoe repair place to get it fixed and he agreed.
Let's see what happens. In less time than it took to type this blog entry he returned with strap fixed. The bag is a big North Face, a beauty with a full zippered front which means I don't have to empty it to take something out. Not the kind of thing you would use in the jungle but excellent for the purpose intended.
Now for coffee and laundry. Six soles a kilo? Go my man these close haven't seen a washing machine in over a month. You can only do so well in sink; actually I've done amazingly well with the bar of detergent I bought in Colombia.
The bus leaves at 5 and it is a 14 hour ride to my first stop.
The boots that I bought in Iquitos are refurbished Peruvian military boots. The clerk looked at my boots and said "militar?"
"Si"
"Ohh" and he looked me up and down giving me the same sort of look the guy who inspected the 18 inch knife I had in my carry on when flying out of Panama. It was a big fighting knife and the guard asked me the same question. A sort of deference that is unwarranted.
When I returned to the hotel, the front door was locked as always, but this time nobody replied to the bell. After a few frustrating minutes the cook, waiter, front office clerk, maid and concierge walked up the street. He apologized profusely, "Lo siento Jaime" and then pushed a hidden panel in the door, without using a key, reached through and undid the lock. I asked him to call around to find a store at which I could buy a backpack. Five minutes later he returned with a large pack a bit worn but eminently servicable and offered to sell it to me for 40. "Sols?" I enquired and he confirmed. Seventeen bucks for a framed backpack? I checked it out. The strap waist strap was just about severed and asked if he could take it to a tailor or shoe repair place to get it fixed and he agreed.
Let's see what happens. In less time than it took to type this blog entry he returned with strap fixed. The bag is a big North Face, a beauty with a full zippered front which means I don't have to empty it to take something out. Not the kind of thing you would use in the jungle but excellent for the purpose intended.
Now for coffee and laundry. Six soles a kilo? Go my man these close haven't seen a washing machine in over a month. You can only do so well in sink; actually I've done amazingly well with the bar of detergent I bought in Colombia.
The bus leaves at 5 and it is a 14 hour ride to my first stop.
The boots that I bought in Iquitos are refurbished Peruvian military boots. The clerk looked at my boots and said "militar?"
"Si"
"Ohh" and he looked me up and down giving me the same sort of look the guy who inspected the 18 inch knife I had in my carry on when flying out of Panama. It was a big fighting knife and the guard asked me the same question. A sort of deference that is unwarranted.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Leaving Iquitos
Ok, I get it. You want an update.
Time to move on. I put all my stuff in my bag, paid my hotel bill and confirmed the price of transport to the airport. The mototaxi driver jumped on me a like a tegu lizard on a rat, but the only person I know would know what the hell that means is my son Mark. The mototaxi headed west as though we were being shot at, crossing the meridian, swerving through on coming traffic. A bus hopped the meridian, knocking down a palm tree in the process. Pretty women, two at a time on motorcycles in front of me, next to me on each side and two behind me.
After half an hour I got to the airport and handed the driver a ten. He gave me a big grin. I stuck out my hand "Necesito cambiar dos sols". Sorry piece of trash tried to rip me off last night, he was getting no tip. "El tarriff es de diez sole." I grabbed the money, I think that even in front of the cops he thought I was I about to waste him. “You little cocksucker, you are trying to rip me off again.” It was only about seventy cents but it is the point of the thing. I fished out some coins and gave him eight sols and told him to shove them up his ass.
The lady at the ticket counter told me it is not possible to fly today. Maybe tomorrow. What does this mean? I looked in my wallet. Bills in three currencies. I finally convinced her to sell me a ticket. I have no idea. Maybe I should record the audio of these transactions; others may be able to help me figure out what went wrong. Bill where is my iphone?
She took my credit card and passport and went away for half an hour. Through a door and disappeared. What the hell? Finally she returned with a boarding pass and a credit card receipt. Then she disappeared again. No other staff for the airline was in sight. Umm, I need to check my bag and I am getting really tired of this shit.
I waited another half an hour then I got pissed and stepped over the scale that weighed the bags and entered the bowels of the airport. I thought that maybe I could provoke security into assisting me but they just watched me enter the secure zone and stood there, scratching their asses and watching.
I have been cheered and jeered for my expectation of reasonable customer service. My kids are no longer surprised but they are seldom amused when I walk through a restaurant, pass through the employees only door and tell the cook, who is chatting up the waitress sitting on the counter that if you could just cook my dinner I would eat it and go. Now I know why it is better to just leave. He has nothing better to do, now I've pissed him off and he is preparing on the other side of a wall, something I am about to eat.
A loud knock on an unmarked office door elicited a response from a dour, slight old man. This guy could not have weighed more than eighty pounds. "¿Dónde está la oficina de LAN?" LAN is the airline that just took my money. He looked up at me at pointed down the hall. A sturdy knock on that door got a very rapid response but I was advised that I couldn't check my bag until 9:55. Ok, maybe there is a way out of this. Don't get pissed.
Ok then, let me find a place to eat and get a cup of coffee. Oh yeah, Peru, the land of instant coffee. Am I whining? The cafeteria consisted of four dirty tables and a very dismal shelf holding god knows what, wrapped in banana leaves. It turned out to be chicken in rice. The chef was very accomplished; it is not easy to dry out chicken so that it has about as much moisture as chalk.
Time to move on. I put all my stuff in my bag, paid my hotel bill and confirmed the price of transport to the airport. The mototaxi driver jumped on me a like a tegu lizard on a rat, but the only person I know would know what the hell that means is my son Mark. The mototaxi headed west as though we were being shot at, crossing the meridian, swerving through on coming traffic. A bus hopped the meridian, knocking down a palm tree in the process. Pretty women, two at a time on motorcycles in front of me, next to me on each side and two behind me.
After half an hour I got to the airport and handed the driver a ten. He gave me a big grin. I stuck out my hand "Necesito cambiar dos sols". Sorry piece of trash tried to rip me off last night, he was getting no tip. "El tarriff es de diez sole." I grabbed the money, I think that even in front of the cops he thought I was I about to waste him. “You little cocksucker, you are trying to rip me off again.” It was only about seventy cents but it is the point of the thing. I fished out some coins and gave him eight sols and told him to shove them up his ass.
The lady at the ticket counter told me it is not possible to fly today. Maybe tomorrow. What does this mean? I looked in my wallet. Bills in three currencies. I finally convinced her to sell me a ticket. I have no idea. Maybe I should record the audio of these transactions; others may be able to help me figure out what went wrong. Bill where is my iphone?
She took my credit card and passport and went away for half an hour. Through a door and disappeared. What the hell? Finally she returned with a boarding pass and a credit card receipt. Then she disappeared again. No other staff for the airline was in sight. Umm, I need to check my bag and I am getting really tired of this shit.
I waited another half an hour then I got pissed and stepped over the scale that weighed the bags and entered the bowels of the airport. I thought that maybe I could provoke security into assisting me but they just watched me enter the secure zone and stood there, scratching their asses and watching.
I have been cheered and jeered for my expectation of reasonable customer service. My kids are no longer surprised but they are seldom amused when I walk through a restaurant, pass through the employees only door and tell the cook, who is chatting up the waitress sitting on the counter that if you could just cook my dinner I would eat it and go. Now I know why it is better to just leave. He has nothing better to do, now I've pissed him off and he is preparing on the other side of a wall, something I am about to eat.
A loud knock on an unmarked office door elicited a response from a dour, slight old man. This guy could not have weighed more than eighty pounds. "¿Dónde está la oficina de LAN?" LAN is the airline that just took my money. He looked up at me at pointed down the hall. A sturdy knock on that door got a very rapid response but I was advised that I couldn't check my bag until 9:55. Ok, maybe there is a way out of this. Don't get pissed.
Ok then, let me find a place to eat and get a cup of coffee. Oh yeah, Peru, the land of instant coffee. Am I whining? The cafeteria consisted of four dirty tables and a very dismal shelf holding god knows what, wrapped in banana leaves. It turned out to be chicken in rice. The chef was very accomplished; it is not easy to dry out chicken so that it has about as much moisture as chalk.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The best laid plans
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley.
Or, if you are not a Scotsman or skipped class that day...
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
My guide is my mouse, whose head I caress with my thumb as as I grit my teeth.
What the hell happened to my guide? He was at the hotel at eight; I told him I needed another couple of hours of sleep, I was up to no good last night. This is Sunday after all. He never showed up again. I changed hotels, I thought I needed a swimming pool but got caught up on programming, finances, email, all that nasty stuff I thought I had left behind. But I have air conditioning and my underwear and socks, which I washed in the sink are drying in the dehumidified air. I have sufficient bandwidth to update my operating system but not enough for music videos or porn. The woman at the front desk said that the hotel didn't have enough credits to call David, but volunteered to run down the street and place a call on a pay phone.
Gang aft agley.
Or, if you are not a Scotsman or skipped class that day...
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
My guide is my mouse, whose head I caress with my thumb as as I grit my teeth.
What the hell happened to my guide? He was at the hotel at eight; I told him I needed another couple of hours of sleep, I was up to no good last night. This is Sunday after all. He never showed up again. I changed hotels, I thought I needed a swimming pool but got caught up on programming, finances, email, all that nasty stuff I thought I had left behind. But I have air conditioning and my underwear and socks, which I washed in the sink are drying in the dehumidified air. I have sufficient bandwidth to update my operating system but not enough for music videos or porn. The woman at the front desk said that the hotel didn't have enough credits to call David, but volunteered to run down the street and place a call on a pay phone.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Peru Immigration
I've lost track of the number of times I have tried to get my passport stamped by some authority that ostensibly represents immigration for the country of Peru. I have entered the country four or five times in the last week and had to look for the immigration office. I found one three times, only once did I find one open.
There is a general strike in the city. I don't understand it. Something about ceding some land to Equador. The bastards could then have access to the Amazon. So?
Ahh, it makes it easier for me to buy land for a resort.
There is a general strike in the city. I don't understand it. Something about ceding some land to Equador. The bastards could then have access to the Amazon. So?
Ahh, it makes it easier for me to buy land for a resort.
What the hell is that?
Hirsute, swarthy, filthy, sweaty, muscular with a very disturbed appearance. His bloodshot and yellow eyes tracked me as I crossed the street to avoid him.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Google Rocks
First attempt
Original English
I need a crew to build 15 cabins in the central amazon region of Peru. The cabins are to be simple framed wood sided buildings with wooden floors and thatched roofs. The bathrooms workers will require concrete and tile workers, showers, toilets and septic tank onsite construction.
I will provide transportation from Mexico or Texas to Iqutios via Lima, Peru and return transportation. Work will commence at 10:00 for those who wish to enjoy the bird watching, jungle walks or fishing. Others may begin work at 6:00 and will be compensated accordingly. Work finishes at 18:00. On site lodging will be provided. Women are readily available in Iquitos.
Expected duration of work is two to three months.
Translated into Spanish by translate.google.com
Necesito un equipo para construir 15 cabañas en la región amazónica central del Perú. Las cabañas son de madera simple para ser enmarcada edificios del lado de suelos de madera y techos de paja. Los trabajadores baños requerirá de hormigón y baldosas trabajadores, duchas, aseos y la construcción de fosas sépticas en el sitio.Voy a ofrecer transporte desde México o de Texas a través de Iqutios Lima, Perú y el transporte de regreso. Los trabajos se iniciarán a las 10:00 para aquellos que desean disfrutar de la observación de aves, caminatas en la selva o la pesca. Otros pueden empezar a trabajar a las 6:00 y se compensará en consecuencia. El trabajo termina a las 18:00. El sitio de alojamiento será proporcionado. Las mujeres son fácilmente disponibles en Iquitos.
Duración prevista de los trabajos es de dos a tres meses.
Now The translation back from Spanish to English
I need a computer to construct 15 cabins in the central Amazon region of Peru. The simple wooden huts are to be framed buildings on wooden floors and thatched roofs. Workers require concrete bathrooms and tile workers, showers, toilets and construction of septic tanks on the site.I will provide transportation from Mexico or Texas by Iqutios Lima, Peru, and return transportation. Work will commence at 10:00 for those who want to enjoy bird watching, jungle walks and fishing. Others may start working at 6:00 and be compensated accordingly. The work ends at 18:00. The hosting site will be provided. Women are easily available in Iquitos.
Expected duration of the work is two to three months.
Let me try again
Original English
I need a team to build 15 cabins in the central amazon region of Peru. The cabins are to be simple framed wood sided buildings with wooden floors and thatched roofs. The bathrooms workers will require concrete and tile workers, showers, toilets and septic tank onsite construction.I will provide transportation from Mexico or Texas to Iqutios via Lima, Peru and return transportation. Work will commence at 10:00 for those who wish to enjoy the bird watching, jungle walks or fishing. Others may begin work at 6:00 and will be compensated accordingly. Work finishes at 18:00. On site lodging will be provided. Women are readily available in Iquitos.
Expected duration of work is two to three months.
Translated into Spanish
Necesito un equipo para construir 15 cabañas en la región amazónica central del Perú. Las cabañas son de madera simple para ser enmarcada edificios del lado de suelos de madera y techos de paja. Los trabajadores baños requerirá de hormigón y baldosas trabajadores, duchas, aseos y la construcción de fosas sépticas en el sitio.Voy a ofrecer transporte desde México o de Texas a través de Iqutios Lima, Perú y el transporte de regreso. Los trabajos se iniciarán a las 10:00 para aquellos que desean disfrutar de la observación de aves, caminatas en la selva o la pesca. Otros pueden empezar a trabajar a las 6:00 y se compensará en consecuencia. El trabajo termina a las 18:00. El sitio de alojamiento será proporcionado. Las mujeres son fácilmente disponibles en Iquitos.
Duración prevista de los trabajos es de dos a tres meses.
Back to English
I need a team to build 15 cabins in the central Amazon region of Peru. The simple wooden huts are to be framed buildings on wooden floors and thatched roofs. Workers require concrete bathrooms and tile workers, showers, toilets and construction of septic tanks on the site.I will provide transportation from Mexico or Texas by Iqutios Lima, Peru, and return transportation. Work will commence at 10:00 for those who want to enjoy bird watching, jungle walks and fishing. Others may start working at 6:00 and be compensated accordingly. The work ends at 18:00. The hosting site will be provided. Women are easily available in Iquitos.
Expected duration of the work is two to three months.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Amazon Lodge
I just finished a night at Amazon Rainforest Lodge. The place was filled to capacity. Twenty two simple but large cabins each with a private bath but no hot water. The food was substandard the meals could readily have been purchased in town for the equivalent of $2. A stay here in this mostly inclusive (lodging, meals, tours) lodge is $90 a day. One night is two days, two nights is 3 days, etc. The diesel generator belches more smoke than a dozen city buses and is just as loud. So much for tranquility. When full the cabins average 5 people apiece.
Peter Gabriel recently spent a night here with the band while on tour. Why is the place so popular? There are not many lodges and this is the heart of the Peruvian Amazon, near Iquitos, the largest city in the world not accessible by road. Iquitos is also the most inland port in the world, 1,864 miles from the Atlantic.
The hop from Lima to Iquitos is a short commuter airplane trip. With a population of over seven million people, Lima has the ability to overwhelm the tourist capacity of this town and the surrounding areas. Seems like a hell of a business opportunity, now it is time to shop for some land.
Peter Gabriel recently spent a night here with the band while on tour. Why is the place so popular? There are not many lodges and this is the heart of the Peruvian Amazon, near Iquitos, the largest city in the world not accessible by road. Iquitos is also the most inland port in the world, 1,864 miles from the Atlantic.
The hop from Lima to Iquitos is a short commuter airplane trip. With a population of over seven million people, Lima has the ability to overwhelm the tourist capacity of this town and the surrounding areas. Seems like a hell of a business opportunity, now it is time to shop for some land.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Reading the newspaper
Put your last jungle trip in print; send us your Amazon travel articles, journal entries, observations scribbled on napkins at a bar or just a copule of photos wel print nearly anything and put your name on it.
Iquitos Times, Editor Mike Collis
Office Putumayo 163 - Call 065 9754976
michaelcollis@hotmail.com
81 hectare on the Amazon $40,000 USD
Thats about 200 acres
130 Acres with riverfront on Nanay and Momon Rivers 30 minutes from downtown Iquitos $120,000
Boat For Sale 80 feet and a width of 13 feed construct in November 2008. Capacity 100 passengers, can be inspected on the doc on the first block of Peval street . Asking price only $15,000 US or very near offer.
Iquitos Times, Editor Mike Collis
Office Putumayo 163 - Call 065 9754976
michaelcollis@hotmail.com
81 hectare on the Amazon $40,000 USD
Thats about 200 acres
130 Acres with riverfront on Nanay and Momon Rivers 30 minutes from downtown Iquitos $120,000
Boat For Sale 80 feet and a width of 13 feed construct in November 2008. Capacity 100 passengers, can be inspected on the doc on the first block of Peval street . Asking price only $15,000 US or very near offer.
Civil Unrest
U.S. Embassy Lima issued the following Warden Message on May 6:
This warden message is being issued to alert U.S. citizens residing and traveling in Peru that the U.S. Embassy is aware that a political group which has employed violent techniques in the past will stage a strike in the regional capital city of Iquitos on May 12 and 13. The strike may disrupt general transportation into and out of Iquitos as well as public services such as water and electricity. Travelers should be flexible in their travel plans and be prepared for travel delays.
We remind American citizens that even demonstrations intended to be peaceful can turn confrontational and possibly escalate into violence. American citizens are therefore urged to avoid the areas of demonstrations if possible, and to exercise caution if within the vicinity of any demonstrations. American citizens should stay current with media coverage of local events and be aware of their surroundings at all times.
The Embassy notes that Peruvian law prohibits the participation of foreigners in political protests or strikes, and Americans who have joined such demonstrations have been detained.
For any emergencies involving American citizens, please contact the American Citizens Services (ACS) Unit of the U.S. Embassy?s Consular Section, located in Monterrico, a suburb of Lima, at Avenida La Encalada, Block Seventeen; telephone 51-1-618-2000 during business hours (8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.) or for after-hours emergencies; fax 51-1-618-2397, or 618-2724 (American Citizen Services Unit); Internet website at http://lima.usembassy.gov/. The Consular Section is open for American Citizens Services, including registration, from 8:00 a.m. to 11:30 am weekdays, excluding U.S. and Peruvian holidays. The U.S. Consular Agency in Cusco, Peru, can be found at Avenida Pardo 845, Cusco. The office can be reached by phone at (51-84) 231-474, and is open Monday thru Friday, excluding U.S. and Peruvian holidays, 8:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m.
This warden message is being issued to alert U.S. citizens residing and traveling in Peru that the U.S. Embassy is aware that a political group which has employed violent techniques in the past will stage a strike in the regional capital city of Iquitos on May 12 and 13. The strike may disrupt general transportation into and out of Iquitos as well as public services such as water and electricity. Travelers should be flexible in their travel plans and be prepared for travel delays.
We remind American citizens that even demonstrations intended to be peaceful can turn confrontational and possibly escalate into violence. American citizens are therefore urged to avoid the areas of demonstrations if possible, and to exercise caution if within the vicinity of any demonstrations. American citizens should stay current with media coverage of local events and be aware of their surroundings at all times.
The Embassy notes that Peruvian law prohibits the participation of foreigners in political protests or strikes, and Americans who have joined such demonstrations have been detained.
For any emergencies involving American citizens, please contact the American Citizens Services (ACS) Unit of the U.S. Embassy?s Consular Section, located in Monterrico, a suburb of Lima, at Avenida La Encalada, Block Seventeen; telephone 51-1-618-2000 during business hours (8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.) or for after-hours emergencies; fax 51-1-618-2397, or 618-2724 (American Citizen Services Unit); Internet website at http://lima.usembassy.gov/. The Consular Section is open for American Citizens Services, including registration, from 8:00 a.m. to 11:30 am weekdays, excluding U.S. and Peruvian holidays. The U.S. Consular Agency in Cusco, Peru, can be found at Avenida Pardo 845, Cusco. The office can be reached by phone at (51-84) 231-474, and is open Monday thru Friday, excluding U.S. and Peruvian holidays, 8:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Caballococha to Iquito
I am now on an 8 hour trip via boat from Caballococha to Iquito.
My cell phone woke me at 5:00. The promised wake up call never came. I glanced at the shower and decided to give it a miss. I checked my ipod and it had no charge, at least my notebook was fully charged. Packing and dressing took about 3 minutes, then I brushed my teeth and headed down the stairs. The front doors were locked and no attendant was in site. Thanks, assholes. The large double steel doors were secured by a lock with three deadbolts. I operated the huge barrel bolts on the top and bottom of each door and gave the doors a pull with some reluctance they swung inward.
The sun was not up yet people were gathered in doorways socializing. As I passed I realized that they were not early risers, they were still partying from last night, pouring beer from 600 ml bottles into small glasses in the style of the Amazon. The next casino I passed was filled to capacity with five or so couples dancing to a quick salsa. The were no signs of serious inebriation that I had witnessed repeatedly in the last week. A large boat , the …………. was now docked. A rat scurry on the embankment. I walked down the stairs until I was level with the deck and got aboard. As I attempted to enter the lowest of the three levels I was directed to the second level. After ascending the stairs I surveyed a large open area, maybe 20 feet by 150 feet with a dark, dank interior. Hammocks hung from the ceiling the whole length, all were populated and large backpacks lay on the floor beneath the hammocks. Benches lined the side on which a score of passengers sat, presumably as all the hammocks were occupied. This was is going to suck big time. I took a seat on the bench and put my backpack and rubber boat bag on the floor in front of me. A crew member approached and said “No rapido barco.” Well that was a great relief, this is not the fast boat. I grabbed my bags and returned to the dock.
I just noticed that my computer battery is drained 30% and all I have been doing is typing this entry. A quick look at process manager shows me that works is consuming 70% of the CPU and all I am doing is typing. I shutdown all works and started again in wordpad, now I am running at 1%. How much does microsoft suck? Why am I even booted into windows? Oh yeah I need to backup my itouch.
With no sign of the boat anywhere I walked over to a cafe and ordered a coffee. The woman poured a cup of coffee into a small bag, tied the top in an overhand knot, stuffed the coffee bag and an egg sandwich into another bag and handed it to the customer next to me. A girl came out and poured hot water from a thermos and handed me the cup. "Necessito cafe, por favor, este solo agua caliente." The woman picked up a jar of instant coffee and handed it to me. I don't get instant coffee. The price for the coffee? Uno Sol, about USD .36. I gave the lady a coin and asked for an egg sandwich. The bun wasn't bad and the two eggs inside weren't bad, but somebody had a heavy hand with the salt. "Necessito pagar pora huevos, quente questa?" "Uno Sol." Another coin for the the sandwich.
The pagoda was filling up, I guess everyone knew that the 5:45 boat didn't leave at 5:45. Around 6:00 what was obviously the fast boat pulled in. The steel hulled boat had a beam of about 8' and was about 45 feet in length and had a freeboard of about 4 feet. With its steel top and rows of windows it had a look of a marine bus. Passengers swarmed the boat and I was at the end of the line. Women were delivering envelopes, and small packages, this was also apparently the Federal Express for this part of the amazon. I threw my boat back on top and entered the boat through the door centered next to the pilot seat on the bow of the boat and opening in the highly raked windscreen.
The aisle seat in the first row was unoccupied; strange as this is a prime spot, with extra leg room. In short order we departed. The twin Volvo jet engine operated quietly with no vibration. The Garmin 525s GPS showed our route with numerous checkpoints, presumably to ensure that progress is according to schedule as it would be exceptionally hard to get lost on this trip. The small town we just left was on a river which flowed into a second river which emptied into the Amazon, the rest of the way is just about due west on the big river.
6:57 Pulled into a small pueblo. Five police officers read the passenger manifest and board the boat. Each passenger hands over an ID card, or in my case, a passport and the names and numbers are compared to the passenger manifest.
A man walked holding a tray of twenty cups hot chocolate. I kept trying to move my computer out of the way but he seemed adamant on holding the tray over the top of my computer. I took a cup hoping this would make him go away faster and was pleased when he moved on.
Screw this. Just because I'm bored out of my mind doesn't mean you care about the minutia.
My cell phone woke me at 5:00. The promised wake up call never came. I glanced at the shower and decided to give it a miss. I checked my ipod and it had no charge, at least my notebook was fully charged. Packing and dressing took about 3 minutes, then I brushed my teeth and headed down the stairs. The front doors were locked and no attendant was in site. Thanks, assholes. The large double steel doors were secured by a lock with three deadbolts. I operated the huge barrel bolts on the top and bottom of each door and gave the doors a pull with some reluctance they swung inward.
The sun was not up yet people were gathered in doorways socializing. As I passed I realized that they were not early risers, they were still partying from last night, pouring beer from 600 ml bottles into small glasses in the style of the Amazon. The next casino I passed was filled to capacity with five or so couples dancing to a quick salsa. The were no signs of serious inebriation that I had witnessed repeatedly in the last week. A large boat , the …………. was now docked. A rat scurry on the embankment. I walked down the stairs until I was level with the deck and got aboard. As I attempted to enter the lowest of the three levels I was directed to the second level. After ascending the stairs I surveyed a large open area, maybe 20 feet by 150 feet with a dark, dank interior. Hammocks hung from the ceiling the whole length, all were populated and large backpacks lay on the floor beneath the hammocks. Benches lined the side on which a score of passengers sat, presumably as all the hammocks were occupied. This was is going to suck big time. I took a seat on the bench and put my backpack and rubber boat bag on the floor in front of me. A crew member approached and said “No rapido barco.” Well that was a great relief, this is not the fast boat. I grabbed my bags and returned to the dock.
I just noticed that my computer battery is drained 30% and all I have been doing is typing this entry. A quick look at process manager shows me that works is consuming 70% of the CPU and all I am doing is typing. I shutdown all works and started again in wordpad, now I am running at 1%. How much does microsoft suck? Why am I even booted into windows? Oh yeah I need to backup my itouch.
With no sign of the boat anywhere I walked over to a cafe and ordered a coffee. The woman poured a cup of coffee into a small bag, tied the top in an overhand knot, stuffed the coffee bag and an egg sandwich into another bag and handed it to the customer next to me. A girl came out and poured hot water from a thermos and handed me the cup. "Necessito cafe, por favor, este solo agua caliente." The woman picked up a jar of instant coffee and handed it to me. I don't get instant coffee. The price for the coffee? Uno Sol, about USD .36. I gave the lady a coin and asked for an egg sandwich. The bun wasn't bad and the two eggs inside weren't bad, but somebody had a heavy hand with the salt. "Necessito pagar pora huevos, quente questa?" "Uno Sol." Another coin for the the sandwich.
The pagoda was filling up, I guess everyone knew that the 5:45 boat didn't leave at 5:45. Around 6:00 what was obviously the fast boat pulled in. The steel hulled boat had a beam of about 8' and was about 45 feet in length and had a freeboard of about 4 feet. With its steel top and rows of windows it had a look of a marine bus. Passengers swarmed the boat and I was at the end of the line. Women were delivering envelopes, and small packages, this was also apparently the Federal Express for this part of the amazon. I threw my boat back on top and entered the boat through the door centered next to the pilot seat on the bow of the boat and opening in the highly raked windscreen.
The aisle seat in the first row was unoccupied; strange as this is a prime spot, with extra leg room. In short order we departed. The twin Volvo jet engine operated quietly with no vibration. The Garmin 525s GPS showed our route with numerous checkpoints, presumably to ensure that progress is according to schedule as it would be exceptionally hard to get lost on this trip. The small town we just left was on a river which flowed into a second river which emptied into the Amazon, the rest of the way is just about due west on the big river.
6:57 Pulled into a small pueblo. Five police officers read the passenger manifest and board the boat. Each passenger hands over an ID card, or in my case, a passport and the names and numbers are compared to the passenger manifest.
A man walked holding a tray of twenty cups hot chocolate. I kept trying to move my computer out of the way but he seemed adamant on holding the tray over the top of my computer. I took a cup hoping this would make him go away faster and was pleased when he moved on.
Screw this. Just because I'm bored out of my mind doesn't mean you care about the minutia.
Iquitos, Peru
I just made it to Iquitos after an 8 hour boat ride from Caballochoca.
Some guy at a random government agency took me for a tour around town, gave him someone to practice his english on. He showed me a lovely hotel. My room is downtown, poolside with a California King. I deserve a little luxury. This is $99 sol per night about $35.
Tomorrow I have been invited to couch surf at the house of a local tour guide. I´ll give an update tonight, but I guess I am one step ahead of the murders. I just got this in my email.
Jim,
Thanks for the photos. I am at the Bogota airport waiting to depart. It is 3600 pesos per half hour of internet. Where the hell are you now ? I saw on the news last night narcos killed a soldier in Puerto Narino. There was a narco related shooting at the video bar in Leticia at 2am Friday - I left the bar at 10 pm. - dangerous little country. Be careful & good luck !
Richard
Some guy at a random government agency took me for a tour around town, gave him someone to practice his english on. He showed me a lovely hotel. My room is downtown, poolside with a California King. I deserve a little luxury. This is $99 sol per night about $35.
Tomorrow I have been invited to couch surf at the house of a local tour guide. I´ll give an update tonight, but I guess I am one step ahead of the murders. I just got this in my email.
Jim,
Thanks for the photos. I am at the Bogota airport waiting to depart. It is 3600 pesos per half hour of internet. Where the hell are you now ? I saw on the news last night narcos killed a soldier in Puerto Narino. There was a narco related shooting at the video bar in Leticia at 2am Friday - I left the bar at 10 pm. - dangerous little country. Be careful & good luck !
Richard
Puerto Narano to Caballococha
I checked out of the hotel at which I was staying, paying my 50,000 pesos for two nights. Actually I was staying in the hostel across from the hotel but the hotel had the administrative staff. For two nights I had the large house by myself. I turned in the keys and requested that my bags be checked, "Equipaja seguridad, por favor." and went for a walk, back down to the school dock, then around town. Lunch was fish soup, fried fish of some sort, rice, salad of onions and tomatoes. The guide I met at the park yesterday greeted me. It was apparent that he just wanted to talk to while away the time. It started to rain, "It's not the rain forest without the rain." It slowed to a light drizzle so I went back and gathered my bags and headed back to town central. A few people came by, said their good byes and I waited. At about a quarter to four I headed to the dock. A young woman was taking money from a man and entering his name on a list. "Comprar tiquete pora barco hasta Caballococha aqui?" "Si" I handed her a twenty thousand note. "No cambio". Shit, how can you do this job with no change? I bought a bottle of water at the store and returned, but she was nowhere to be seen. About 4:30 the 4:00 boat showed up and the woman reappeared. I handed her the ten but she took the five and the two. I thought this was ten thousand but it was merely seven. The boarding process took almost half an hour. We left and half an hour later arrived at Caballococha.
The reception party consisted of five or six people bearing signs, half a dozen playing various instruments and a young man singing some awful song greatly amplified and broadcast through a megaphone with expected audio fidelity. It was not musical or charming. A dozen motorized rickshaws sat at the dock. I inquired about the location for immigration and received directions to the police station. Six officers sat around shooting the bull and a couple more watched television. They wore shoes, not boots, black pants and black tee shirts. A web belt secured leather holsters holding old automatics, the bluing was worn off, the grips were worn. I don't know what one has to do to get a gun in this condition; I have fired thousands of rounds with mine and they look new. One is now in the hands of some Southlake delinquent have been stolen during one of the innumerable parties thrown at my house by my kids when I was out of town.
"Necessito immagracion registrada." Seems strange to have to hunt people down to get to immigration control. A kid pulled out a bound graph pad filled with stamps and lines and opened it to a new page. Referring back to a former page he drew lines and headings and labels to create a form of sorts. Stamps were entered, notations made and finally he asked for my passport. I gave it to him and then pointed to the fields for my name, passport number, state of birth etc when he asked for them.
I then asked one of the cops where I could by a ticket for a fast boat to Iquitos. Guessing I wouldn't understand his answer he walked me to the store. I bought my ticket for $70 with a USD $100 bill. They only had two twenties and a five so they couldn't figure out how to make change. I took the $25 and grabbed a few notes of Peruvian money and said "sufficio completo" ????????????? The took the hint and calculated what it would take to give me $5 USD in Peruvian Sol. The exchange rate used was 2.8 Sol per USD but I had no idea if that was a good rate. Then the cop pointed out the hotel, which looked more promising than the international hostel, which looked like a wharf warehouse. The place was a dump. The man told be "viente cinco dollars." I looked at the cop and said "viente cinco sol?" "Si" No way was any room in this dump worth $25 USD; eight bucks, that's about right.
I knew there was an ATM here and need some Peruvian currency so I asked the cop, "Donde este Clave?" I got a blank reply. "Donde esta cajage automatico?" "Como?" Why the hell do they need a different name for an ATM in every latin american country. "Necessito dinero, donde esta banco carte automatico." Ah, finally and then he walked me over to the bank. I withdrew 400 sol, about $140 and noted that the internet cafe was right next to the bank. Returning to the hotel I gave the man my 100 note. Of course, being a hotel that only accepted cash he had no change. The man grabbed an aerosol can and walked me to my room. He sprayed large quantities of air freshener. The bed looked comfortable and clean and the bathroom was, well, latin american, the shower had no curtain the drain was in the middle of the room, there was no shower head and only a single pipe, no hot water here.
I told him I'd be back in an hour to get the change then went around town. Apparently some voting was taking place and announcements were being made to a large group of people. A man took videos of the crowd while I presume the winners were announced. The crowd cheered the announcements and were filmed in their displays of jubilance. I killed forty minutes at the internet cafe and made my way back toward the hotel. The central park was jammed full of people. Saturday night had begun. I collected my change and went to my room. It took me 10 minutes to open the door and I 've worked as a locksmith. The cylinder flopped around and rotated. I determined how it had to be aligned and held it in place with my thumb while I operated the key. To my great relief my bags were still in the room. My room faced town square. There was no glass in the windows, just coarse screens, the wires sufficiently small that they offered no security but the openings sufficiently large that they presented no barrier to mosquitos, which fortunately did not become a problem.
The music blared. I turned on the TV and watched Casino Royale in Spanish. Bond was getting his nuts mashed. A tone such as could be made by blowing over a glass bottle filled the air. It was so loud it made my guts rumble. WTF? An hour or two later I drifted off to sleep despite the commotion.
The reception party consisted of five or six people bearing signs, half a dozen playing various instruments and a young man singing some awful song greatly amplified and broadcast through a megaphone with expected audio fidelity. It was not musical or charming. A dozen motorized rickshaws sat at the dock. I inquired about the location for immigration and received directions to the police station. Six officers sat around shooting the bull and a couple more watched television. They wore shoes, not boots, black pants and black tee shirts. A web belt secured leather holsters holding old automatics, the bluing was worn off, the grips were worn. I don't know what one has to do to get a gun in this condition; I have fired thousands of rounds with mine and they look new. One is now in the hands of some Southlake delinquent have been stolen during one of the innumerable parties thrown at my house by my kids when I was out of town.
"Necessito immagracion registrada." Seems strange to have to hunt people down to get to immigration control. A kid pulled out a bound graph pad filled with stamps and lines and opened it to a new page. Referring back to a former page he drew lines and headings and labels to create a form of sorts. Stamps were entered, notations made and finally he asked for my passport. I gave it to him and then pointed to the fields for my name, passport number, state of birth etc when he asked for them.
I then asked one of the cops where I could by a ticket for a fast boat to Iquitos. Guessing I wouldn't understand his answer he walked me to the store. I bought my ticket for $70 with a USD $100 bill. They only had two twenties and a five so they couldn't figure out how to make change. I took the $25 and grabbed a few notes of Peruvian money and said "sufficio completo" ????????????? The took the hint and calculated what it would take to give me $5 USD in Peruvian Sol. The exchange rate used was 2.8 Sol per USD but I had no idea if that was a good rate. Then the cop pointed out the hotel, which looked more promising than the international hostel, which looked like a wharf warehouse. The place was a dump. The man told be "viente cinco dollars." I looked at the cop and said "viente cinco sol?" "Si" No way was any room in this dump worth $25 USD; eight bucks, that's about right.
I knew there was an ATM here and need some Peruvian currency so I asked the cop, "Donde este Clave?" I got a blank reply. "Donde esta cajage automatico?" "Como?" Why the hell do they need a different name for an ATM in every latin american country. "Necessito dinero, donde esta banco carte automatico." Ah, finally and then he walked me over to the bank. I withdrew 400 sol, about $140 and noted that the internet cafe was right next to the bank. Returning to the hotel I gave the man my 100 note. Of course, being a hotel that only accepted cash he had no change. The man grabbed an aerosol can and walked me to my room. He sprayed large quantities of air freshener. The bed looked comfortable and clean and the bathroom was, well, latin american, the shower had no curtain the drain was in the middle of the room, there was no shower head and only a single pipe, no hot water here.
I told him I'd be back in an hour to get the change then went around town. Apparently some voting was taking place and announcements were being made to a large group of people. A man took videos of the crowd while I presume the winners were announced. The crowd cheered the announcements and were filmed in their displays of jubilance. I killed forty minutes at the internet cafe and made my way back toward the hotel. The central park was jammed full of people. Saturday night had begun. I collected my change and went to my room. It took me 10 minutes to open the door and I 've worked as a locksmith. The cylinder flopped around and rotated. I determined how it had to be aligned and held it in place with my thumb while I operated the key. To my great relief my bags were still in the room. My room faced town square. There was no glass in the windows, just coarse screens, the wires sufficiently small that they offered no security but the openings sufficiently large that they presented no barrier to mosquitos, which fortunately did not become a problem.
The music blared. I turned on the TV and watched Casino Royale in Spanish. Bond was getting his nuts mashed. A tone such as could be made by blowing over a glass bottle filled the air. It was so loud it made my guts rumble. WTF? An hour or two later I drifted off to sleep despite the commotion.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Puerto Narino
I was in Leticia for what, five days? I couldn't find anybody to take me into the jungle. This morning I went down to Tres Fronteras (three frontiers, Colombia, Peru, Brazil all intersect there) and bought a ticket to Puerto Narino. In five minutes I was on the boat and 80 minutes later was dropped off at a very small town most of the way across this little strip of Colombia on the banks of the Amazon. The trip was comfortable, fast, dry and cheap, 28.000 pesos.
Trips here were amazingly easy to set up. I had the opportunity to schedule trips for just me starting this evening. I walked to the observation tower to the end of the trail on the east end of town and to the west end of town.
I can't take it anymore. I am done with this post. Three teenage girls giggling their asses off loudly, the girl next to me is downloading music videos. The bandwidth is bad so it buffers, plays this shit music that sounds like its in a loop, pauses to buffer some more and then repeats.
Pictures should be available tomorrow afternoon, hopefully some of these people will be in school.
Trips here were amazingly easy to set up. I had the opportunity to schedule trips for just me starting this evening. I walked to the observation tower to the end of the trail on the east end of town and to the west end of town.
I can't take it anymore. I am done with this post. Three teenage girls giggling their asses off loudly, the girl next to me is downloading music videos. The bandwidth is bad so it buffers, plays this shit music that sounds like its in a loop, pauses to buffer some more and then repeats.
Pictures should be available tomorrow afternoon, hopefully some of these people will be in school.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Leticia, Amazonia, Colombia - Day 4 - May 4
Water cascaded out of a pipe dropping a couple of meters and landed heavily on a tin roof. Motorcyclists in panchos rode through deep puddles. After three days of clear weather my first excursion is scheduled for a rainy day. At eight my traveling companion showed himself and we discussed whether or not to go on our trip. Richard thought that he could call the girl he met the night before but then figured she wouldn’t show up in the rain anyway. After a bit of putzing around we grabbed the grub I had procured the night before, a couple of sandwiches and 4 skewers jammed with chicken and headed off in a random direction. After a while we decided that we could cut the trip short by actually going in the direction of the river which by this time we could not ascertain. A few inquiries and a couple of turns later we headed to the dock to meet Roberto, who was to take us on our cruise to Isla Miko (Monkey Island). Roberto was nowhere to be found so I inquired about and was finally directed to somebody who might be interested in a longer excursion. I wondered what the rest of these people were planning to do all day if they were not going to take people out. The guy told us that he could take us for two hundred thousand pesos. Yesterday we had established a price of one hundred fifty thousand, but Roberto was not here. The man went into the usual bullshit about the high price of gas, (ok it’s five dollars a gallon but you are not going to burn more than five gallons) and then showed us a pre-printed price list as this ostensibly gave validity to this high price. I took out a sheet of paper and prepared a pre-printed price list that was much lower. Richard found this amusing. We failed to conclude a deal and started to walk off. A man around the corner observed this and clandestinely approached us and we struck a deal. We procured some ice, 10 bottles of water and 6 beers and put them in the cooler along with the food and headed out. The boat was one of the smallest on the river but it did have a cover. We droned down the river for a bit and stopped at ???? were we could observe the flora and fauna. Two parrots were perched under a thatched cover. A raised boardwalk beckoned us and then fell to nothing. The rain was not abating and my camera was fogging up.
The man explained that the cost of walking around and taking pictures was ten thousand pesos and Richard squawked “It’s five dollars, Christ.” Then we started our tour. Richard didn’t want to walk in the mud, “Hey bud, you are in the jungle, it rains. You are wearing sandals that you can wash off in the river, what is the big deal? Do you just need to bitch about everything? God you whine a lot.” So we saw the big trees and the lilies that were a meter and a half across, viewed the garden took a few pictures and left. We continued up the river and Richard bitched about the duration of the trip, the rain, This was becoming wearisome.
A couple of hours into our trip arrived at the island. We walked by a gift shop with monkey skulls and piranha jaws, blow guns, bows and arrows and the various accoutrements of indigenous Amazonian people. A large man wanted to know how long we were going to be there. Why do you need to know? What difference does it make? Forty thousand pesos to feed the monkeys? I don’t think so, let them fend for themselves. Then we walked down the board walk, when we neared the end we were told that to go further for the 10 minute walk to where the monkeys were would cost us forty thousand pesos and yes this was a private preserve. I said “I’ve seen a whole lot of god damn monkeys in the wild without a charge of admission” and this time I agreed with Richard and we walked back to the reception area. The restaurant probably had 20 tables, each of which could seat 6 people, these guys had a good little deal going for them. Thirty locals just stared at us, having obviously nothing else to do. We walked over to the gift shop followed by a crew of observers. They demonstrated their proficiency in English. Picking up a blowgun, “Blowgun.” Picking up the jaws of a Piranha, “Piranha”. I picked up a caiman tooth and said, “dente camain.”, “Si”. Picking up a wooden phallus, I said “penis”. Whatever, adios.
We wanted to stop at one of the villages on the banks and pointed to one but our captain told us that that was Peru and he couldn’t make an international trip. I guess that is because they didn’t have an immigration office like Santa Rosa where you could find an immigration official if you looked hard enough. We entered and opening on the Colombian side of the river and wound our way around the bends and the floating debris; now this was more like it. Typical Indian village, wooden shacks, no electricity, outhouses, a couple of sidewalks, some dirt trails, chickens. A great many children peered out the windows at us, Women looked at us suspiciously. What the hell are these white guys here for anyway. Richard observed “I don’t think they want us here.”
I walked over to a kid, put my hat on his head, he smiled and I took his picture, his friends laughed and everybody loosened up. The women smiled at us, waved back at us. These were some really pretty women. As we walked by a man with a chisel and a hammer Richard stepped away like he was a poisonous snake even though he was 12 feet away. I said, “got you are such a git” and walked behind the fence and talked to the man expressing interest in his work. He showed me that he was mortising a rail for a bed, showed me the bed and then a big one inside his house. I asked him if he was like Joseph padre Jesus Christo but he had no idea what I was talking about. A nun walked down the street and I thought I saw Richard drool lustily. We returned to town, went to a bar and watched amazingly drunk Indians stagger around. Locals tried to give us home made rum. I am not sure how a bar works where patrons show up with their own liquor and the other patrons don’t even know what planet they are on. One guy picked up a bottle of soda,
put his lips to the straw and then lifted the bottle as if he was going to drink out of it. As it was now two inches from his mouth and his mouth was closed around the straw it just spilled off his chin, down his shirt and onto his pants.
Three people at the next table wanted to practice their English on us. I figured they were having enough problem with their own language, maybe due to the lack of dentition; there wasn’t a full set of teeth between the three of them. This was getting tiresome and I suggested that we go to across the road there being a bar on the river with more things to see. A couple of kids sat there and clacked bolos, two balls on each end of a string, an ancient hunting device that I explained to Richard. Two guys and an incredibly hot young woman sat at a table. I joined them, one of the guys was a student studying law in Medellin, the others had never left this small city. The woman avoided my eyes, finally told me she was married. We watched the boats go by and the clouds on the horizon while the sun set behind an island.
We walked back into town and had no success with any of the women we approached. Richard agreed that they did not demonstrate the usual Colombian willingness to be a companion for a day or a night. He had to get online to place some bets. I had some catching up to do so we went to the internet café and then went our separate ways, probably in pursuit of the same thing.
The man explained that the cost of walking around and taking pictures was ten thousand pesos and Richard squawked “It’s five dollars, Christ.” Then we started our tour. Richard didn’t want to walk in the mud, “Hey bud, you are in the jungle, it rains. You are wearing sandals that you can wash off in the river, what is the big deal? Do you just need to bitch about everything? God you whine a lot.” So we saw the big trees and the lilies that were a meter and a half across, viewed the garden took a few pictures and left. We continued up the river and Richard bitched about the duration of the trip, the rain, This was becoming wearisome.
A couple of hours into our trip arrived at the island. We walked by a gift shop with monkey skulls and piranha jaws, blow guns, bows and arrows and the various accoutrements of indigenous Amazonian people. A large man wanted to know how long we were going to be there. Why do you need to know? What difference does it make? Forty thousand pesos to feed the monkeys? I don’t think so, let them fend for themselves. Then we walked down the board walk, when we neared the end we were told that to go further for the 10 minute walk to where the monkeys were would cost us forty thousand pesos and yes this was a private preserve. I said “I’ve seen a whole lot of god damn monkeys in the wild without a charge of admission” and this time I agreed with Richard and we walked back to the reception area. The restaurant probably had 20 tables, each of which could seat 6 people, these guys had a good little deal going for them. Thirty locals just stared at us, having obviously nothing else to do. We walked over to the gift shop followed by a crew of observers. They demonstrated their proficiency in English. Picking up a blowgun, “Blowgun.” Picking up the jaws of a Piranha, “Piranha”. I picked up a caiman tooth and said, “dente camain.”, “Si”. Picking up a wooden phallus, I said “penis”. Whatever, adios.
We wanted to stop at one of the villages on the banks and pointed to one but our captain told us that that was Peru and he couldn’t make an international trip. I guess that is because they didn’t have an immigration office like Santa Rosa where you could find an immigration official if you looked hard enough. We entered and opening on the Colombian side of the river and wound our way around the bends and the floating debris; now this was more like it. Typical Indian village, wooden shacks, no electricity, outhouses, a couple of sidewalks, some dirt trails, chickens. A great many children peered out the windows at us, Women looked at us suspiciously. What the hell are these white guys here for anyway. Richard observed “I don’t think they want us here.”
I walked over to a kid, put my hat on his head, he smiled and I took his picture, his friends laughed and everybody loosened up. The women smiled at us, waved back at us. These were some really pretty women. As we walked by a man with a chisel and a hammer Richard stepped away like he was a poisonous snake even though he was 12 feet away. I said, “got you are such a git” and walked behind the fence and talked to the man expressing interest in his work. He showed me that he was mortising a rail for a bed, showed me the bed and then a big one inside his house. I asked him if he was like Joseph padre Jesus Christo but he had no idea what I was talking about. A nun walked down the street and I thought I saw Richard drool lustily. We returned to town, went to a bar and watched amazingly drunk Indians stagger around. Locals tried to give us home made rum. I am not sure how a bar works where patrons show up with their own liquor and the other patrons don’t even know what planet they are on. One guy picked up a bottle of soda,
put his lips to the straw and then lifted the bottle as if he was going to drink out of it. As it was now two inches from his mouth and his mouth was closed around the straw it just spilled off his chin, down his shirt and onto his pants.
Three people at the next table wanted to practice their English on us. I figured they were having enough problem with their own language, maybe due to the lack of dentition; there wasn’t a full set of teeth between the three of them. This was getting tiresome and I suggested that we go to across the road there being a bar on the river with more things to see. A couple of kids sat there and clacked bolos, two balls on each end of a string, an ancient hunting device that I explained to Richard. Two guys and an incredibly hot young woman sat at a table. I joined them, one of the guys was a student studying law in Medellin, the others had never left this small city. The woman avoided my eyes, finally told me she was married. We watched the boats go by and the clouds on the horizon while the sun set behind an island.
We walked back into town and had no success with any of the women we approached. Richard agreed that they did not demonstrate the usual Colombian willingness to be a companion for a day or a night. He had to get online to place some bets. I had some catching up to do so we went to the internet café and then went our separate ways, probably in pursuit of the same thing.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Leticia, Amazonia, Colombia - Day 3
At 10:00 Carlos knocked on my door. I walked down the street and saw Richard, Carlos went through his spiel with Richard, but he only wanted a one day tour. He told me about the Hotel Divino Nino and I decided to change hotels. As I was checking out the guard looked at Carlos and then at me and told me that tours are very, very dangerous. Carlos carried my boat bag and we walked to the other Hotel. Three women sat behind the counter. I was checked in within 2 minutes. My room is at the top of the stairs, right in front of reception with a shuttered paneless window that opened on the side of the room facing the reception area at a slight diagonal. The hole for the upper barrel bolt was a slot, rendering that half of the locking mechanism worthless. I shut the shutters and engaged the lower bolt, dropped of my stuff and we headed out.
As we passed on restaurant Richard told me authoritatively that was the best restaurant in town. “What, Lonely Planet?” Lonely Planet is the largest publisher of travel books but they are not always correct, sometimes I disagree with their opinions and have found their facts demonstrably incorrect, like the length of trails, off by a factor of two. I then opined that the restaurant was not that great, they overcook the fish and that you can get a better meal for less from the street vendors. He stopped at a restaurant named after the department of Antioquia with a picture of El Piedre Guatape, the big rock I had climbed last week. I wanted breakfast so I continued down the street had a couple of fried eggs and a large roll with a cup of coffee for a couple of bucks.
Lacking anything better to do we went Santa Rosa. As I had discovered Richard like to bitch about everything. “What’s wrong with these people? Why do they fucking live here? “ “Hey dickhead, they were born here, probably never been out of here. You fucking moved to El Paso, that was your choice, what does that say about you? And as for being here, you paid good money and spent time to get here, they didn’t make the effort.” That shut him up for a minute but then he found another reason to deprecate another person. He whined about something else and I said “With you every silver lining has a cloud, lighten up.”
Didn't I already post the story about the guy at immigration?
We returned on a large comfortable boat and inquired with the captain, if you can call the guy at the outboard on an oversized canoe a captain, how much it would cost to go to Isla Monik (Monkey Island). We offered 150,000 pesos for the day. He refused then I guess he thought about the money, he was only making 6,000 for this trip and agreed to meet us the next day at ocho medio, (8 1/2) in the morning.
The electricity went out all over town, so just grabbed some grilled chicken on the street corner and went to the internet cafe, which was running off a small generator. When the electricity came on I went back to hotel,turned on my air and cropped the days photos.
As we passed on restaurant Richard told me authoritatively that was the best restaurant in town. “What, Lonely Planet?” Lonely Planet is the largest publisher of travel books but they are not always correct, sometimes I disagree with their opinions and have found their facts demonstrably incorrect, like the length of trails, off by a factor of two. I then opined that the restaurant was not that great, they overcook the fish and that you can get a better meal for less from the street vendors. He stopped at a restaurant named after the department of Antioquia with a picture of El Piedre Guatape, the big rock I had climbed last week. I wanted breakfast so I continued down the street had a couple of fried eggs and a large roll with a cup of coffee for a couple of bucks.
Lacking anything better to do we went Santa Rosa. As I had discovered Richard like to bitch about everything. “What’s wrong with these people? Why do they fucking live here? “ “Hey dickhead, they were born here, probably never been out of here. You fucking moved to El Paso, that was your choice, what does that say about you? And as for being here, you paid good money and spent time to get here, they didn’t make the effort.” That shut him up for a minute but then he found another reason to deprecate another person. He whined about something else and I said “With you every silver lining has a cloud, lighten up.”
Didn't I already post the story about the guy at immigration?
We returned on a large comfortable boat and inquired with the captain, if you can call the guy at the outboard on an oversized canoe a captain, how much it would cost to go to Isla Monik (Monkey Island). We offered 150,000 pesos for the day. He refused then I guess he thought about the money, he was only making 6,000 for this trip and agreed to meet us the next day at ocho medio, (8 1/2) in the morning.
The electricity went out all over town, so just grabbed some grilled chicken on the street corner and went to the internet cafe, which was running off a small generator. When the electricity came on I went back to hotel,turned on my air and cropped the days photos.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Day trip to Peru
I checked out of Hotel Amazon, I am moving to Divino Nino and no it was not like a scene from the Omen.
Carlos, my prospective guide I met in Peru yesterday came to the hotel to meet me. The front desk clerk showed a look of grave concern.
"Tours a la selva son muy, muy peligroso.
"Cocodrilos, serpientes o Piraña?" and yes I can find the question mark on this keyboard but it doesn't emit a question mark.
"Los narcotraficantes en el Perú te va a matar."
Then he gave the gesture of a split throat and a man being gutted.
I'm going anyway. I was sitting at a bar last night talking to a couple from Bogota and some big gringo walked up to me and said "Americano?" "Si, I mean yes."
He was also staying at the Hotel Amazonas. I bitched about the fact the front door was always locked and the guard was passed out on the couch. All the keys were in boxes behind the front desk but the guy was too messed up to bother with it so I had to find my own, which was not in it's designated spot.
Richard and I walked down to the river and took a boat over to Santa Rosa (Saint Pink... WTF?) There was nothing going on, but we wanted to get our passports stamped. Immigration was closed for lunch so we went to Restaurante Touristica and played with the monkey. I finally got someone to remove the dead anaconda from the box on the end of the pier. Finally immigration was open and we got the official to stamp our passports.
"Quantos dias?" How many days.
"Cerro" zero.
"Como?" what?
"dos horas" 2 hours.
A quizzical look crossed his face.
"Necessito solo stampe pora recarda visitante Peru." I hope that means something.
"Y comidas, cerveza y bueno chicas" and food, beer and hot women.
Big grin from the guy, who told us where to find all of the above. But they were not of the quality we sought so 20 minutes later we requested an exit notation.
I said the the guy Ingles, Adios Mother Fucker. Richard gave me a startled look. He thought we were going to jail. Como. I repeated it very slowly, the man laughed harder than the parrot next door did.
On the ride back Richard asked how much I thought a boat for the day was. I asked the captain of the canoe on which we were travelling. 150,000 pesos a day. We booked it for tomorrow and figured we would scrounge around town for a couple of chicas to make the day even more pleasant while we were procuring food and water for the trip.
An hour and a half after we departed we were back in Leticia, Columbia.
How dangerous is this trip into the Jungles of Peru anyway
Damn this keyboard.
Carlos, my prospective guide I met in Peru yesterday came to the hotel to meet me. The front desk clerk showed a look of grave concern.
"Tours a la selva son muy, muy peligroso.
"Cocodrilos, serpientes o Piraña?" and yes I can find the question mark on this keyboard but it doesn't emit a question mark.
"Los narcotraficantes en el Perú te va a matar."
Then he gave the gesture of a split throat and a man being gutted.
I'm going anyway. I was sitting at a bar last night talking to a couple from Bogota and some big gringo walked up to me and said "Americano?" "Si, I mean yes."
He was also staying at the Hotel Amazonas. I bitched about the fact the front door was always locked and the guard was passed out on the couch. All the keys were in boxes behind the front desk but the guy was too messed up to bother with it so I had to find my own, which was not in it's designated spot.
Richard and I walked down to the river and took a boat over to Santa Rosa (Saint Pink... WTF?) There was nothing going on, but we wanted to get our passports stamped. Immigration was closed for lunch so we went to Restaurante Touristica and played with the monkey. I finally got someone to remove the dead anaconda from the box on the end of the pier. Finally immigration was open and we got the official to stamp our passports.
"Quantos dias?" How many days.
"Cerro" zero.
"Como?" what?
"dos horas" 2 hours.
A quizzical look crossed his face.
"Necessito solo stampe pora recarda visitante Peru." I hope that means something.
"Y comidas, cerveza y bueno chicas" and food, beer and hot women.
Big grin from the guy, who told us where to find all of the above. But they were not of the quality we sought so 20 minutes later we requested an exit notation.
I said the the guy Ingles, Adios Mother Fucker. Richard gave me a startled look. He thought we were going to jail. Como. I repeated it very slowly, the man laughed harder than the parrot next door did.
On the ride back Richard asked how much I thought a boat for the day was. I asked the captain of the canoe on which we were travelling. 150,000 pesos a day. We booked it for tomorrow and figured we would scrounge around town for a couple of chicas to make the day even more pleasant while we were procuring food and water for the trip.
An hour and a half after we departed we were back in Leticia, Columbia.
How dangerous is this trip into the Jungles of Peru anyway
Damn this keyboard.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Leticia, Amazonia, Colombia - Day 2
Seven o’clock in the morning found me dressed and ready for activity. I couldn’t find a map anywhere but I backtracked the route the taxi took toward the airport, looking for the zoo. A web page I was looking at the day I left said that there were as many animals out of cages as there were caged. This sounded like a good thing. Wanting some reassurance that I was heading the right direction I stopped a local “Donde esta parque zoological?” He indicated that I was heading in the right direction with a swoop of his hand and the attendant whistling sound that Colombians like to make with hand swoops. A bunch of Spanish but I did catch “todo” and “cerrado”. Always closed? No he must me closed all day on Sunday. A few blocks further I saw a large wall with interesting advertising every 50 feet or so. The vegetation was lush on the far side, what is over this wall? I stepped up on a rise and looked over the wall and saw a tiger in the distance pacing in a small cage. The grass was overgrown everywhere at least two feet tall. A tapir lounged in the sun and a pair of agouti ran by. I guess he meant that it was always closed. I turned and walked back and noticed the entrance that I had passed earlier, the gate was closed, one guy was strolling behind it and a big tapir well over 100 kilos walked by.
I walked around town for a while but everything was closed, internet cafes, restaurants, provisioning stores, tour companies. Ahh, it’s Sunday. A couple of hours later I walked back past the hotel and down to the river. A drunk was rolling on the sidewalk. Two more were passed out in the bar, one was staggering down the street. It was 11 AM. Welcome to the Amazon. As I approached the floating pier a man jumped on me like a salesman at a used car lot. I almost wondered if he was going to say “What is it going to take to get you on a trip today?” He wanted to describe his tour but I asked for some printed documentation. “Necessito describo escribe,” Close enough, he went off and fetched an accordian folder and pulled out a hand painted map of the area and told me about the island of monkeys that swarm you, climbing all over you, the lily pads multiple meters across, the pink dolphins and anacondas. The trip was 120,000. He explained that was because I was alone. Well, I told him I will just have to find a tour with more passengers, to get my cost down. Three people boarded a boat and he told me he could take me to Peru for diez. Okay, I can spare $5. A few minutes later we landed at Santa Rosa a Peruvian island in the middle of the river.
I disembarked and was beset upon immediately by a local who greeted me in English. His name was Carlos and he was a guide. Sure, I’ll hear about your tour. We walked 50 meters and sat riverside at some bar. He had a book of photos with a pet jaguar, lily pads with people standing on them, hammocks with mosquito enclosures. I asked him how much a 5 day tour was. When he started launching into all the things I was going to see I knew it wasn’t going to be cheap in the end he told me it was 120.000.000. No way in hell. Again he told me that I was alone and that they don’t make gasoline in Colombia so gasoline is expensive. Bud, that 9 horsepower motor doesn’t burn a gallon an hour, give me a break. Then he told me that he didn’t need the money for today, he was building a hostel. I don’t care what your motives are I just need a better price. I had read on the internet that such tours could be had for $250 USD. I took his number and told him that if he could round up some more people to give me a call.
I strolled down the sidewalk, no roads or cars here, nor was there any evidence of immigration, which was good as I had neglected to bring my passport.
Spying a sign for ceviche, for which I have a great fondness, I pulled out my camera. Some passing ham stood next to the sign and gave me a big thumbs up. I snapped the shot and continued down the sidewalk. The guy walked up a plank and gestured for me to follow. He read me well enough to not bother trying talk to me in Spanish. A monkey on a lead swung from place to place ocassionally onto a tourist. Other monkeys clambered the walls of large cages. Two small jaguars m(or were they ocelots? )lie on the wooden floor in the corner. The man then signalled me over to a low storage type box a meter tall, two meters deep and 5 meters long and opened the lid. Two boa constrictors lay coiled in a tub, one a spectacular Colombian red tailed boa and the other a darker brown as are common in Mexico and Costa Rica. Draped over the side of the tub was a two meter green anaconda which was flaccid and had obviously left this world in spirit more than a day before. Another anaconda laid coiled in the corner.
A large statue carved of wood of the famous pink dolphins that inhabit this river stood in the corner boasting a very large erect penis. I grabbed a local cutey, put my hat on her head and staged her next to it and had here companion take a picture of the two of us and this giant penis. After a while I realized I had to go, which I had time to get the email addresses of the Colombians with whom I had been hanging. They were from Santa Marta and would be a lot of fun next time I’m on the Caribbean. I returned to the dock at the appointed time, 5:40 but my boat was not to be seen. After 15 minutes of walking around I decided just to take any boat back. The fare was tres mill. The dickhead had charged me over three times the going rate. As we were pulling out dickhead pulled in an indicated that I should go on his boat. I declined but gave him the money for the previous trip.
Back in town I went to the hotel room, took a shower and finished off Tom Clancy’s “Debt of Honor”, went to the internet café, killed a little more time and then walked toward Tabatinga Brazil. On the way I encountered some clowns erecting a canopy and a group of children observing. I threw my hat on one kid and took his picture. A melee ensued as every kid present had to wear my sombrero and get his picture taken. I continued, crossed the border, this time with my passport and once again encountered no restrictions, just strolling on with little more notice than a sign that communicated some basic statistics of Brazil.. Spying a restaurant sign that proclaimed ceviche I sat down and placed my order. A short while later a bowl was brought out. I took of the lid but this was not my ceviche, but rather a green hot sauce. A few minutes later an enormous ceviche was presented and I dinned splendidly. It was so good I had to have the lingua gusada (tongue in gravy) but passed on the rice and beans. It was so tender I could cut it with a fork and the gravy was excellent. Sated I returned to Leticia and called my mother, my first call state side in four months. We chatted for about 20 minutes and I headed out in search of something else to occupy my time. I just strolled around for an hour or so and finally found a quiet bar with a few people sitting around and just sat down and joined them.
A large gringo walked up and said to me “Americano?” “Si, I mean yes.” He joined us. Richard is a 43 year old New Yorker now living in El Paso, TX. Richard had just gotten into town and was staying at the same hotel as I, the Hotel Amazonas. We bitched about the fact that the front door was always locked and you had to wake up the guard who was passed out on the couch to get in or out. He would fumble around inside the couch looking for his key and then return to his couch without fetching my room key from the boxes behind the reception desk. The lights were off, so I had to fetch mine in the dark and it was not in the correct box. I just took half the keys and walked down the hall and looked at them under a light as the lobby was dark. Nice security, I knew which rooms were vacant or the guests were out and had the keys. Time to find a new hotel. We returned to the hotel and agreed to meet in the morning and see what we could do about a tour.
I walked around town for a while but everything was closed, internet cafes, restaurants, provisioning stores, tour companies. Ahh, it’s Sunday. A couple of hours later I walked back past the hotel and down to the river. A drunk was rolling on the sidewalk. Two more were passed out in the bar, one was staggering down the street. It was 11 AM. Welcome to the Amazon. As I approached the floating pier a man jumped on me like a salesman at a used car lot. I almost wondered if he was going to say “What is it going to take to get you on a trip today?” He wanted to describe his tour but I asked for some printed documentation. “Necessito describo escribe,” Close enough, he went off and fetched an accordian folder and pulled out a hand painted map of the area and told me about the island of monkeys that swarm you, climbing all over you, the lily pads multiple meters across, the pink dolphins and anacondas. The trip was 120,000. He explained that was because I was alone. Well, I told him I will just have to find a tour with more passengers, to get my cost down. Three people boarded a boat and he told me he could take me to Peru for diez. Okay, I can spare $5. A few minutes later we landed at Santa Rosa a Peruvian island in the middle of the river.
I disembarked and was beset upon immediately by a local who greeted me in English. His name was Carlos and he was a guide. Sure, I’ll hear about your tour. We walked 50 meters and sat riverside at some bar. He had a book of photos with a pet jaguar, lily pads with people standing on them, hammocks with mosquito enclosures. I asked him how much a 5 day tour was. When he started launching into all the things I was going to see I knew it wasn’t going to be cheap in the end he told me it was 120.000.000. No way in hell. Again he told me that I was alone and that they don’t make gasoline in Colombia so gasoline is expensive. Bud, that 9 horsepower motor doesn’t burn a gallon an hour, give me a break. Then he told me that he didn’t need the money for today, he was building a hostel. I don’t care what your motives are I just need a better price. I had read on the internet that such tours could be had for $250 USD. I took his number and told him that if he could round up some more people to give me a call.
I strolled down the sidewalk, no roads or cars here, nor was there any evidence of immigration, which was good as I had neglected to bring my passport.
Spying a sign for ceviche, for which I have a great fondness, I pulled out my camera. Some passing ham stood next to the sign and gave me a big thumbs up. I snapped the shot and continued down the sidewalk. The guy walked up a plank and gestured for me to follow. He read me well enough to not bother trying talk to me in Spanish. A monkey on a lead swung from place to place ocassionally onto a tourist. Other monkeys clambered the walls of large cages. Two small jaguars m(or were they ocelots? )lie on the wooden floor in the corner. The man then signalled me over to a low storage type box a meter tall, two meters deep and 5 meters long and opened the lid. Two boa constrictors lay coiled in a tub, one a spectacular Colombian red tailed boa and the other a darker brown as are common in Mexico and Costa Rica. Draped over the side of the tub was a two meter green anaconda which was flaccid and had obviously left this world in spirit more than a day before. Another anaconda laid coiled in the corner.
A large statue carved of wood of the famous pink dolphins that inhabit this river stood in the corner boasting a very large erect penis. I grabbed a local cutey, put my hat on her head and staged her next to it and had here companion take a picture of the two of us and this giant penis. After a while I realized I had to go, which I had time to get the email addresses of the Colombians with whom I had been hanging. They were from Santa Marta and would be a lot of fun next time I’m on the Caribbean. I returned to the dock at the appointed time, 5:40 but my boat was not to be seen. After 15 minutes of walking around I decided just to take any boat back. The fare was tres mill. The dickhead had charged me over three times the going rate. As we were pulling out dickhead pulled in an indicated that I should go on his boat. I declined but gave him the money for the previous trip.
Back in town I went to the hotel room, took a shower and finished off Tom Clancy’s “Debt of Honor”, went to the internet café, killed a little more time and then walked toward Tabatinga Brazil. On the way I encountered some clowns erecting a canopy and a group of children observing. I threw my hat on one kid and took his picture. A melee ensued as every kid present had to wear my sombrero and get his picture taken. I continued, crossed the border, this time with my passport and once again encountered no restrictions, just strolling on with little more notice than a sign that communicated some basic statistics of Brazil.. Spying a restaurant sign that proclaimed ceviche I sat down and placed my order. A short while later a bowl was brought out. I took of the lid but this was not my ceviche, but rather a green hot sauce. A few minutes later an enormous ceviche was presented and I dinned splendidly. It was so good I had to have the lingua gusada (tongue in gravy) but passed on the rice and beans. It was so tender I could cut it with a fork and the gravy was excellent. Sated I returned to Leticia and called my mother, my first call state side in four months. We chatted for about 20 minutes and I headed out in search of something else to occupy my time. I just strolled around for an hour or so and finally found a quiet bar with a few people sitting around and just sat down and joined them.
A large gringo walked up and said to me “Americano?” “Si, I mean yes.” He joined us. Richard is a 43 year old New Yorker now living in El Paso, TX. Richard had just gotten into town and was staying at the same hotel as I, the Hotel Amazonas. We bitched about the fact that the front door was always locked and you had to wake up the guard who was passed out on the couch to get in or out. He would fumble around inside the couch looking for his key and then return to his couch without fetching my room key from the boxes behind the reception desk. The lights were off, so I had to fetch mine in the dark and it was not in the correct box. I just took half the keys and walked down the hall and looked at them under a light as the lobby was dark. Nice security, I knew which rooms were vacant or the guests were out and had the keys. Time to find a new hotel. We returned to the hotel and agreed to meet in the morning and see what we could do about a tour.
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