Thank You

The big Belgian kid I had to take down last night just bought me a beer and dinner. I figured he was here to kick my ass, last night while he was about to brain somebody with a bar stool I came up behind him and put him in a choke hold; within ten seconds he was unconscious.

"I hope you will listen to me, that hot piece of ass is gonna be the death of you, you were about to kill someone last night before I put you down, she is way more trouble than she is worth. I saved the life of the guy you were about to kill with the bar stool and you are not in jail, so shut
the fuck up and listen to me. That women is crazy, beyond disturbed, she is nothing but trouble. I don´t care if she makes you scream in four languages when you come, she is nothing but trouble. No piece of ass is worth it. You are welcome."

Do you have a helmet?

The kids at my hostel, three guys fresh out of the Israeli army asked me to go clubbing with them last night. I declined telling them that they were not equipped. They had no idea what that meant. I asked one that I know had biked from down to Coroica, "Did you ride the ´Road of Death´ naked on a bike without brakes?" He had no idea what I was trying to tell them. The blue eyed red haired freckled Israeli woman who was not allowed to have physical contact with men looked at me in a most inquiring manner. Eight hours later, at seven in the morning, after I had introduced them to immoderate consumption of Tequila, having watched me break up two bar fights, one by jumping on six foot four inch Belgian and putting him in choke hold, dropping him unconscious to the floor, and another by grabbing a guys middle finger and bending it back until he became my bitch, which took about one second, they understood.

Bolivian Pampas

Day 1, June 23

9:35 Walter, a Peruvian I met last night and his Argentine friend were sitting in the breakfast area finishing off a fifth of vodka having not yet gone to bed. Whether it was there first or not I don't know but for people finishing off a twelve hour drinking marathon they were remarkably sober. We chatted out their experience in the Pampas, in which they had seen a plethora of animals and in the jungle which they pronounced beautiful despite the only fauna that was observed was poisonous snakes.

One of the french girls came down to the breakfast area and the Argentine left us immediately to give her his attention. Walter just laughed and said the attractive charming person with whom he was travelling was securing his objectives once or twice a day with different people here. I am afraid those days are past me now.
The tours depart at 8:30 but the cook who prepares the promised breakfast didn't show until 8:00 which oddly enough is her scheduling starting time. No regard was given to who was going on a tour and who was just hanging out for the day. I had been promised a breakfast of omellete panckakes, bread and coffe. I finally got two pieces of bread and didn't have time to finish my coffe.

We were transported to Amazonia via 4x4, put our un-needed bags in equipment storage and waited while the driver fetch several more loads to repeat the process. My daypack screams computer pack and I have some misgivings about leaving it here where everybody self claims their luggage. Finally at 9:14 my fellow adventurers, eight Israelis, and I boarded our 4x4. I am sure I have said this before but the proportion of travellers that are Israeli is huge. Over two thirds of the tourists in this town are Israelis, all 21 years of age, fresh out of the army travelling before returning to attend university. Fortunately and predictably I am riding shotgun, the others sit on benches that face each other with their backs to the side windows.

We have been told that this would be a three hour drive; we have been in the car for 15 minues, made three drops and have only travelled a couple of ticks.

10:47 The vehicle carrying the other group from our tour company was broken down on the side of the road. The fuel filter is repeatedly flushed with gas and profoundly rust colored fuel is flushed in the process. We exchanged drivers many times, the original driver of our 4x4 apparently more experienced in coaxing fuel starved engines into productivity. Finally, with the original driver from the other car we left out companions and drove down the road for a while. When we neared a cell tower our driver tried to make a phone call and starting climbing the tower to get better reception. Maybe you should use a different carrier. After half an hour he figured out that his phone was never going to work here and borrowed one from the woman who ran the concession stand nearly attached to the tower and made a phone call. Within an hour an alternative vehicle should have reached the other group to carry them the remaining two hours to the river. Our rescue purpose having been accomplished we took off again down the dusty road.

12:32 A hawk sits on the lines on the side of the road every kilometer spaced as if by agreement. Slightly further the road turns to mud and then fine dust. Every vehicle kicks up a huge plume that stays suspended in the air for minutes until carried off to the side by the slightest of winds. The vegetation on either side of the road for a hundred meters is dead, choked by the dust.

12:20 We have reached our first check point and the road is blocked by a square tubular bar welded out of rebar with a triangular truss like pattern. Two upright boards have support the fulcrum, the counterweight is an engine block and several rocks secured to the bar with rope. To block the road a rope is pulled down and lashed; when released the counterweight raises the bar.

1:00 We bought our tickets to the park, 150 Bolivians and headed off to lunch. For the first time I spoke with another member of our group, Gal asked if I spoke English and when we sat at the table we all introduced ourselves. Each time I was given a name there was a round of laughter as I attempted to pronounce it. Gal let out a scream and jumped out of her sit as a pig tried to brush by her leg to lie under the table. A four foot tall bird walked by inspecting us.

At Camp During our three hour boat trip we saw hundreds of Capybara, thousands of Caiman, one black caiman, thousands of turtles of the same specie egrets of all types, kites, paradise birds, vultures, brown egrets, white egrets and ??? yellow bird that cleans the caimans teeth. A boat filled with people with cameras and 200mm and 400mm lenses all obviously ready to avail themselves of the wonderful opportunity to engage in nature photography, one of the key selling points of the trip. The cayuca never slowed and animals were not identified except upon strong urging.

We arrived at our camp, put our gear in our dorm and met in the dining room. Ten minutes after we arrived our companion group arrived. As they were an hour behind us waiting on their rescue van they blew by the fauna even faster than we. I chatted with Omer, the personable Israeli that booked his tour immediately following me and was staying at the same hostel. We inquired as to whether hot water was available so we could make coffee and were informed that coffee was a morning drink and would be available with breakfast. Omer's group had a South African couple and a couple from New Zealand. Everybody conversed in English. As I sat with them to juice up and eat some popcorn, Niegro, our guide insisted that I sit with the group with which I had travelled. So I sat with eight other people who conversed solely in Herbrew though they all knew English. Are we having fun yet?

Our first excursion was to the Sunset Bar, a place spectacular only in the fact that it is billed as a great place and has little of merit. The most amazing feature of the place was an observation deck which constructed of boards supported by a series of poles in single file; the whole structure swayed with every step. The left side had no rail, the one on the right offered moral support but undoubtably would have become detached had any felt any strong reason to use it. From this vantage people were encouraged to consume beer while watching the sunset. We could see over the tops of the trees on the far side of the river. Just beyond a very narrow strip laid pasture land for miles. I think I have to give up eating beef; I have seen tens of thousands of square miles from Panama to Bolivia deforested to make grazing land. After the sunset we returned for dinner and I took my place at the table of Babel. Shortly after dinner I went to bed.

Day 2

I woke up for the sunrise tour and met Niegro at the boat at the appointed hour, we were the only two on the boat. "Niegro are we going to leave or not? Can't change the hour of sunrise." The others of my group trickled in and by the time twenty minutes had elapsed the last of our party boarded the boad. Niegro looked more displeased than I. We headed back down stream for ten minutes, climbed a steep bank, walked for one hundred meters and found ourselves in another vast pasture, spreading to the horizon in all directions not bounded by the river. The morning fog hung low and when the sun appeared it was far above the horizon large and diffused through the fog. By the time we left the sun was three sun diameters above the horizon.

A little further down Niegro pulled to the shore, got out, repeatly smacked his leg, yelled "Miguel" and a 5 foot caiman came to the bank, opened his toothy mouth a bit and Niegro petted it from the skull, between the eyes and down to the snout. Members of the group got out to pose for pictures while petting a caimain.
We were then instructed to find some rubber boots from the rack in preparation for the Anaconda hunt. As I had feared and expressly conveyed to the man who sold me the tour, the largest of the boots did not fit me. More than a little perturbed by this developement I expressed my annoyance to Niegro in no uncertain terms. He assured me that there might be some at another camp. Might, to me is not assurance.
Breakfast consisted of batter fried in a variety of fashions, none of them like pancakes, all thin crusted and grease soaked, looking like failed donuts, hollow empanadas and collapsed hollow empanadas, a generous portion of mango and one banana sliced to split between the nine of us.

Finally the pancakes arrived, Gala took two of the fourteen pancakes served to a party of nine. As per last night, at the end of the meal everybodies plate was cleaned, excepting Gala's who had served herself disproportionately and then failed to consume what she had allocated. I noticed a peculiar eating style, her arms wrapped around her plate and she took food from the far side as though ready to grab the plate if someone attempted to grab it. As usual several people smoked without regard to where there smoke went at a table that had not been set with an ashtray.

Niegro appeared with a pair of boots he had retrieved from some unknown location and suggested that I try them on; doing so I had no difficulty getting my foot in.

In search of Anaconda

After a 15 minute boat ride we walked for 30 minutes across a scraggly pasture and arrived at a swamp. The distinct odor of non aerobic vegetable decomposition filled the air. Just a few steps in and the muck was up to the top of the boots. I had to show a couple of the women how to extricate a boot from muck, showing my example I bent my knee driving my upper calf forward over the toe of the boot leaving an airspace behind and then lifted my foot from the heel with a giant slurping sound. Two other women fell down within seconds of each other, landing on their asses, rapidly sinking in the mud to breast level.
Four separate parties searched. Our party went incredibly slowly, in single file, following the one ahead, who had demonstrated the water safe, like a mountain man following a mule, preferring to sacrifice his animal to any unknown perils. The appropriate approach for such a search is to walk abreast one to two meters apart which allows a large amount of land to be covered, single file there is no advantage over someone going solo.

Within minutes a small specimen was discovered by another group and this 2 meter youth was photographed like a star at a movie opening.

We returned for what proved to be the best meal of the trip, vegetable minestrone, broiled chicken, potato salad, white rice, beets, brocolli and cauliflower. It was time to hang out. The women of my group complained about the heat, about the sun on the Anaconda hunt, about the extreme ardour of the walking and in general lamented their sorry condition. The men were either much less bothered or more stoic.

As the rest of my group slept in hammocks I walked down the bank, found a cut into the pampas and explored on my own. The sun was high and hot, but certainly not as bad than a day in Texas in late June. Time after time I came upon a large number of capybara. The huge rodents, who calmly observed boats pass within meters of them on the river scurried with alarm when I came within 20 meters of them. I had either encroached on their zone of safety our they are seriously deficient in the senses of hearing, smell, and vision.

Piranha Fishing

Around 3:00 we headed upstream for about 90 minutes and arrived at the piranha fishing spot. Boats from every group and tour company were less than a boat length apart; I have a hard time believing there is a piranha hole in this one to two meter deep water, besides the fishing were biting within half a meter of the surface. We baited our hooks with little pieces of beef. One person from another tour group caught a piranha but no other fish were caught by any one not a guide. Within seconds of putting my line in the water I would get nibbles but I could never hook a fish. When I had the hook four inches below the water, half a foot from the boat I could see my hook and the bait. Fish came downstream and beneath the hook, took a bite at the meat and dashed off, in the muddly water I couldn't even see them, but I could see the point on my hook. If the point of the hook is never going into the mouth of the fish there is no way to hook them. Had I an option I would have traded the number four hook I had for something a couple of sizes smaller. How the guides caught them I'll never know. About an hour after we arrived we had all wrapped our lines around the little pieces of wood on which they were wound.

We stopped at the soccer and volleyball camp, just a mowed field with a one room wooden shack with a room divider. The foot of a bed extended beyond the end of the divider, into doorless opening; a dresser gave further evidence that this was the living quarters and the front served as the concession area. I bought Niegro a beer and had a chance to mingle with the other group and had a very interesting conversation for an hour or so and then bought Niegro another beer. By a quarter past seven it was dark save light from the full moon. We headed back down stream for an hour. Frequently the moon would be obscured by deep cloud cover or trees. I sat at the front of the boat, there were many obstacles in the river, usually branches the overhung the river or stumps that stuck up. Sitting at the front of the boat I was amazed that Niegro thirty feet behind me expertly piloted the boat around all.

We returned to a dinner of lukewarm unrinsed pasty pasta and bollognaise sauce.
One of our group produced some ganja procured from the moto taxi drivers in Rurrenabaque and the conversation that I could understand became to insipid to bear and I went to bed.

Day 3

After breakfast of rubbery scrambled eggs and various fried dough we left to look for pink dolphin. Just a few hundred meters downstream a couple of them would occassionally crown. People got out to "swim with the dolphins" who always seemed to be at least 30 meters away. The caimans watched the activity from the banks. Everyone who was not swimming was photographing the non event. The South African women said, "why are are they called Pink Dolphins?" I explained that they were dolphins and that they were pink. Perhaps now you can guess what a wonderful display we were observing. A dinner plate sized spot would occassionally near the surface as the dolphin came up for air, the rest of the beast obscured by muddy water.

On the return trip Niegro pulled over and we stopped beneath a tree for no apparent reason. When Niegro got out of the boat a small pride ??? of ??? monkies scurried over. Bribing the monkies with banana enticed them to scurry over the tourists who happily posed for picture after picture.

We had an unmemorable lunch and headed back to Santa Rosa. Even a golden eagle landing on a tree branch 3 meters from the boat and 2 meters above the water would not deter our guide from proceed with unabated speed to Santa Rosa, the need for expedience beyond my comprehension.

Santa Rosa

In Santa Rosa Niegro consulted with a local guide, per my request on an opportunity to do something a bit more my speed. I wanted to actually come to a stop on the river to do some photography and proceed to the lake. We had been fishing for red piranha, which are the size of a small woman's hand, I wanted to go for the two kilogram beasts in the lake and then look for the eight meter Anaconda in the surrounding swamps. When I find a big snake I want it to weigh far more than I do, not be smaller than the one's I have owned as pets.

Unfortunately the road is unpassable, but is being worked on. I took the guide's phone number and told him that I would check with him after my jungle trek.
We rode for three hours, due south, the sun beating through my open window and tailgated trucks to ensure that will inhaled the most amount of dust possible. After arriving at the Amazonia offices I got my bags out of storage and walked back to the hostel while the rest of my group waited to load up the van. I was back fifteen minutes before them. I cropped and culled the pictures, gave a copy to those that requested them and we had a few beers, dinner and played pool.

La Paz to Rurrenabaque

It took me four hours to book an airline ticket this morning. First the hotel travel agency decided that it was a holiday and that they wouldn´t open until 10. Then they failed to open at 10. The kind people at my hotel found another agency. It took the women one hour to buy a one way ticket.

I boarded plane but had no seat indicator on my boarding pass. The copilot told me I could sit anywhere I wanted to so I assumed the bulkseat on the port side. A couple of minutes later a passenger with a boarding pass that indicated the seat I was in. I moved and this was repeated three more tgime.

This 45 minute flight is far preferable than a 20 hour bus ride. We boarded the 18 seater plane on time and 35 minutes later we were skimming the tree tops in the Amazon and touched down a grass field. Apparently the runway at my destination airport a grass strip outside of town is being repaired. 45 minutes later we boarded a bus that was to take us to our destination. A bus employee came down the aisle and charged everybody. When he got to me I showed him my ticket, said it was to Rurrembaque, not the military airstrip and that I would discuss this extortion in the company office when we arrived, the extortionist indicated that that was not necessary. The other passengers applauded me and the guy next to me said ¨Welcome to Bolivia.¨ Half an hour later the bus broke down on the hot dusty road and we all got out and wished we had water. With the most savage of tools the driver reconnected the throttle cable linkage, a process that took most of an hour.

I´ve just come down from the cold high altitudes of La Paz to the sweltering humid Bolivian Amazon. The entire town is hotels, tour companies and bars.

I sought out a hotel with a pool paid my 200 Bolivars about 28 bucks for my room but left when I found I didn´t have wireless internet. The man who ran the place apologized, refunded 300 B I through the extra hundred back on the counter. A couple blocks later I found another hotel. They were right next to an Intenet cafe. The rate? Vente. Twenty frigging B. Less than $3. Wow.

I started hitting up the tour companies just shopping rates. All of the tour guides and cooks are free lance and they stay in the same places. Hotter than hell and hungry, I am waiting for the typico restaurant to open up so I get some grub.

Coroica back to La Paz.

I decided to take public transportation. Four people tried to cut in line ahead of me while I stood at the window. Every time some asshole tried to sneak around me, I just took his money out of his hand and put it in my pocket. As appalled as I was by their behavior they couldn't believe I would just snatch their money, the clerk started waving them off. Next bus leaves in an hour. Get in line. I pretended not to understand that they wanted their money back.

Fifteen people in a minivan. Only dwarves, amputees and the diminutive Andean natives could sit in the assigned seating. Two and half hours with my knee in some poor guys back. My day pack squeezed into the limited space between me and the seat in front of me I'd like to say on my lap but it wasn't, just pressed against my chest. Jammed into a bench seat with the the metal arm rest digging into my hip. Long frigging 2 1/2 hours, then I got here and realized I left my credit card at the hotel. The road back was the new road. Far worse than the big road down on the old and infamous road. I am paying someone 50 Bolivar to bring me my credit card. That is about 7 bucks for 5 hours of hell and includes the cost of the bus ride here and then the taxi to my hotel.

Coroico

I am sitting in my room at Hotel Esmeralda in Coroico, Bolivia; the view is spectacular. The valley below me is completely obscured by clouds but I have a clear view of the mountain peaks. I am overlooking the town, which lays to my west. In the distance is a snow covered peak.

Yesterday I biked down here from La Paz on "El Camino del Muerte", the road of death. As long as you are paying attention there is no great danger. Look down to see why your derailer isn't changing gears and you could sail off the edge of the road, down 600 meters to a quick death.

Lake Titicaca

7:42 I was packing in my room and a woman from the front desk knowck on my door and apologizing profusely told me that my bus was hwere. The scheduled departure time of 7:50 was 16 minutes hence. I shoved my computer and power supply into my day pack, grabbed my boat bag and camera, donned my vest headed down to the lobby. A guide stood waiting holding a large oxygen cannister and showed me to the bus. I had minutes before chatted over breakfast about the altitude how feel my heart pounding while in repose.

8:30 After picking up several more passengers we headed down towards the dock. We stopped in front of a store and were instructed that it is traditional to by some food for the family. I bought a kilo of rice, a kilo of suger, some pasta and a small bottle of vegetable oil. A hundred meters later we were at the lake. Hundreds of boates were moored for and six deep, at anchor in the still water but so close together one could hop from one boat to another for almost a kilometer. The boats have identical hulls designs; forty foot wooden hullled craft with four feet of freeboard and a ten foot beamm. The aft deck is uncovered, the cabin has four rows of seats with four seats per row. Forward of the seats, behind the pilot's station two benches, each readily capable of accomodating five passengers run lengthwise. The pilot's station has but eight inches from the front of the seat custion to the bulkhead. An automotive steering wheel is mounted on a pipe nearly parallel with the horizon. Affixed to the lower end of the pipe is a drum around which is coild several wraps of 3/16 plastic coated steel aircraft cable. The wood appears to be low grade mahogany.

We putt along at seven knots, the big diesel barely working. Passengers are from Peru, Finland, England, Holland, and the the United States.

The lake is 285 meters deep, 165 kilometers long and 65 kilometers wide. We are about to visit the floating islands of the Uros. The reeds of this island are used for everything, to make the island, the boats, housing, fuel for fire and food. Potatoes are grown in the hummus of the decomposing reeds. The people here speak a pre Inca language. ???? The reeds grow to a height of four meters half of it below teh water. The lake has 36000 hectare of reeds and is home to sixty-five species of birds.

9:00 Extremely rotund, nearly spherical women in colorful garb stand on the edge of the island awaiting the next influx of tourists. We exited our boat to a sea of reeds. The ground is spongy underfoot, like walking on a soft mattress. Windowless reed huts surround a central area. We are directed to sit on the benches, long cylinders of reeds bound with twine. The island is home to ten families comprising thirty people.

The president of the island, Jose gave us a presentation on how the islands are made. During periods of drought the lake level drops by several meters exposing the soil at the bottom in the shallow areas in which the reeds grow. The soil dries out in the warmth of the day. When the water level rises, during the rainy season great areas of soil heavily bound by dried reed roots float to the surface. Chunks five by ten meters, a meter thick are collected. Stakes are driven in and the chunks are tied together. Dried reeds are placed on top to a depth of three centimeters followed successively by another layer, perpendicular to the first until a depth of one meter is achieved. Watch towers are constructed for communication with the other islands. After about a year, construction is complete and the island is anchored. The husband and wife dwell in separate huts. If they have a disagreement the huts are turned so that the doors no longer face each other. If the situation becomes irreconcileable a hand saw is used to cut off part of the island, though I don't know if it is the man or the woman who drifts off.
At the base of the reed is a while section that looks like heart of palm, the outer skin is peeled away and the inner portion is eaten. There is sufficient iodine in the reeds to prevent goiters.

Jose showed us some fish that are caught and eaten, they could not have have been more than four inches in length. Ducks are hunted, the shotgun appears to be black powder with an external hammer the falls on an a primer. The duck is salted and jerked in the sun. A sauce is made from clay which is said to taste like mayonnaise from this some essential minerals are derived. There are no fruits that grow here.

9:40 We board a reed catamaran with a wooden deck; the president and an assistant row with huge oars made by lashing a flat board to a pole. We are rowed to the capital island on which there is a restaurant, more places to by fabric products of every description and a public toilet in the grant Peruvian tradition.

11;19 Our boat followed the catamaran and we all board for a three hour trip to Isla Amananti. The sun is beginng to burn away the chill of the night. A freckled blonde Austrialian women removes here jacket, she is wearing a sleeveless low cut t shirt, her wonderful bosom unfettered I pretend to watch the scenery astern.

12:45 Despite the vast fetch the merest of ripples disturb the tranquil waters. Our wake is evident for over a kilometer.

2:03 The Uru's would never defile the water, They defecate onto the reeds and cover it with ash from the cooking.everybody has solar panels, they were distributed by the popular president, Fujimori. Ninety percent of the islands are clustered together, the primary source of income is tourism. Those that don't want to participate move their islands, through means that were not described, I can only assume that they are poled.
Isla Amanati has 5000 residents in 10 commumnities. Lunch will be vegetable soup and an omelette. At 4:00 we will meet in the town square and climb to the top of ????.

2:25 We pulled up to a quay and 2 passengers disembarked. Short fat local women in colorful skirts and thos tophats they favor stand around on the quay with no apparent objective.

2:29 Adobe houses some stuccoed are clustered on the hillside with generous spaces between them. Many houses stand alone on large lots adjacent to the terraces which provide most of the sustenance. Most of the terraces are not cultivated.

2:58 Start Trekking. Our host is Ambrosia a well worn slight diminutive Indian. He stops several times affording the tourists more rest than is necessary.

After about 20 minutes of hiking up the hill we cut off on a level trail for a couple of hundred meters and arrived at Ambrosia's house. I was shown to my room. To get to the room it was necessary to duck under an archway in the wall from which vines of three types hung down, covering the top foot leaving the entrance height clearance of four feet. Up a flight of stairs in the small courtyard and around three sides to a balcony I ducked to get through a four foot door into a room with three beds and a ceiling just a few inches shy of six feet. I walked around the garden, saw meat drying on rocks, a fetal sheep uneviscerated jerking in the sun.
We were invited into the kitchen which is the first floor of the family house. An adobe wood burning stove sat at one end; a large sistern sat on the floor to the right of the door pots and cooking utensils sat on the concrete floor. The Finn and I were staying at this house, each with our own room. Soup was served and shortly thereafter two girls appeared Julia Jr. aged 23 and her little sister. They both live in Puno and were home for the weekend. Julia liked to talk a good deal, practicing her English; she is taking a degree in informatica which by the signs I see in town I think means translator. Julia likes to eat cats and dogs but there are none left on the island, they have all been eaten. They can't raise chickens because the foxes will eat them.

We met in the main square and ascended to the top of the island and watched the sunset and returned to the soccer field. Each of us wore those knit inca caps assigned by the hosts, ostensibly as they couldn't tell the guests apart as all gringos look alike.

6:36 The family is preparing dinner and having a conversation in Quechuan. I have nothing to do but sit and observe.

7:04 We are served a bowl of vegetable soup followed by a a bowl of rice and potatoes with just enough carrots do give a little color.

7:50 I was given a poncho to wear, all of the guests were to appear in native attire. As
I stepped outside I gazed at the unfamiliar southern sky. The moon had not yet risen and there was little ambient light, the milky way arced across the sky densely packed with untold numbers of stars.

We entered the dance hall and the guests of the various houses joined us all in native attire, two bands took positions at opposite ends of the hall and alternated songs. Small stringed instruments, pan flutes and drums were employed by both bands. The music started and the native women grabbed the tourists onto the dance floor. Soon everybody was running and dancing in a closed chain at excessive speed at high altitude. I could never sit any dance out, if I wasn't on the floor Ambrosias younger daughter would drag me out for another. After an hour I walked back to the house in the dark, but it was locked. The younger daughter immediately observed my absence at was at the house no more than 30 seconds behind me and unlocked the gate. I crawled into bed after shedding my boots and jacket lying beneath the very heavy densely knit woolen blankets.

Day 2

6:18 A sistern sits by a garden house and is filled with water that flows freely and clear from a bibcock. A bathroom with tile floors, a sink, a toilet and a shower adjoin the kitchen and is accessible from the courtyard. TO flush the toilet one fills a one gallon bucket from the five gallon buck outside the door and pours it into the bowl. Neith the sink nor the show is supplied with water. These is of course, no toilet paper or soap in the bathroom. Never leave home without your personal supply of toilet paper and alcohol based hand sanitizer. Paula Sr. carries a few bits of wood into the kitchen In addition to having no cats or dogs there are few trees here.

6:32 An enormous pile of dried stalks is carried into the kitchen by the wife as the Finn shows his face, apologizing for missing the festivities of the prior night explaining that too many tours started too early and he needed his sleep.

Food is prepare while sitting on a rock. The woman grates carrots into a small bowl. The bowls form last night are scraped into a large bowl which is brought outside and dumped on potatoes too small to peel, left fot the donkey whio presumably will return at his whim as will the twenty sheep said to be roaming the hills.

Breakfast was two five inch pancakes and marmalade, with some coca tea.



8:27 We are off to Isla Taquile. In 2005, "Taquile and Its Textile Art" were honored by being proclaimed "Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity" by UNESCO.
Knitting is the exclusive domain of males who begin at age eight. Women spin all the yarn and the weaving. The marital status of men can be determined by their hats. A single mand wears a red and white cap; the married men wear red hats. Although the main entrance has 550 steps, we will be approaching from the other side and descending the steps to leave.

10:48 I handily beat everybody to the top and wasn't even breathing hard. A couple of minutes later the guide come up panting and told me I was burning a lot of calories.
The artesan shop was filled with Inca hats and the weavings of the people but frankly I prefer the lush soft alpaca sold elsewhere. The weaving is incredibly tight of very fine thread, a belt takes two months to weave, but I prefer the soft brushed alpaca available almost everywhere in the highlands.

We ate lunch everybody opted for the trout over the omelette and we were told more details that I will spare you.



3:18 After a three hour boat ride, my wonderful guide, Blady Maita takes me to the office of immigration where I attempt to get a stamp in my passport indicating my entry into Peru. I have yet to find and immigration office open. The guide knocked on the door and somebody looked out a second floor window, came down and let us in. I explained that I came in through Caballacocha from Puerto Narino and that my passport information was recorded but I was unable to obtain an entry stamp and explained my problems in Iquitos, then Lima and that by that time I guessed nobody in Peru really cared. I had travelled to Cusco, Arequipa and now Puno. After twenty minutes of discussion and a couple of phone calls the immigration office said that he had arranged that when I arrived in the border at Copacabana that I could get the matter taken care of for a special favor for only $40 USD and that I was not to go to the police station to get my special stamp but directly to immigration.

That was it for the day I went back to the hotel but couldn't get a room for an hour the woman at the front desk wanted me to wait until the manager returned in ten minutes. I went to the security room, the administrative office, which I found unlocked and grabbed my day pack with my computer fired off a few emails, went down the street made a few phone calls to some twit in Panama who wants to sell me land but never answers his phone, returned, went to my room, editted some pics, in general killed time, set my telephone alarm and went to bed.

Getting to Puno

I rode a bus from Arequipa to Puno for six hours in a seat the size of a large recliner. The total cost was 16.50 soles. There were two other passengers on the lower level and a handful on the upper level. It is difficult to grasp the economics of this. The big two level bus depreciation, wear and tear, gasoline, a driver and an attendant.

We pulled into Puno around five in the evening, a taxi shuttled me over to Marlon's House, this time it was a regular hotel. The woman at the front desk told me the charge was forty soles; I told her that Marlon's House in Arequipa told me it was thirty, which she accepted. I leave tomorrow morning, taking a bus down to Lake Titicaca from there I will take a covered boat to one of thefloating islands. I will be staying overnight and returning tomorrow.

Off to Puno

My room, deep in the bowels of Marlon´s House in Arequipa is as quiet as a tomb. I arrived back in town a night early and my former room was unavailable. Marlon´s House is two colonial houses joined together; I was provided a room in the second house. The usual breakfast, three small loaves of bread with preserves and two fried eggs and a couple of cups of coffee. I settled my tab for 56 soles. A very cute young woman from Argentina convinced me that I must take a bike ride on the road of death when I get to La Paz. The road of death is world famous as the most dangerous road in the world. The 80 kilometer ride out of La Paz is almost exclusively downhill, so it is not a strenuous adventure; she assured me that if you are riding down you are almost always next to the cliff face and not on the side of the road that adjoins the precipice.

I hailed a cab, Rosario stepped out of the hotel and spoke with the driver, ensuring that I paid a fair fare, which was 4 soles. The bus terminal has a large number of companies that travel to Puno. I took the one with the earliest next bus. The one way fare is 15 soles for a six hour ride. The time on my itouch was fast by one hour; I have no idea how long it has been wrong.

As much as the hotel wanted to sell me a tour, I couldn´t for the life of me figure out what I would get out of it. Take a bus to Puno, catch a boat in the morning to one of the floating islands made of reeds, stay the night, transfer to another island for another night, return to Puno. What is the tour going to get me?

The tour of Machu Picchu was $64 more than just buying the tickets myself and I got less than nothing out of it. By that I mean that on arriving at Aguas Caliente I was met by a woman who handed me off to a man who handed me off to a woman who walked me 2 blocks to my hotel. On the way back, I didn´t have the voucher for the bus ride from Ollantaytambo to Cusco and was left stranded at the bus station by the driver. Another driver offered to take me into town for only 30 soles; I had but 20 and he accepted that. Full fare is 15 soles. Just another ripoff.

Getting a refund

Tonight I will update my blog on the Colca Canyon trip. I had booked for four three nights but decided that the hotel was located in a town with absolutely nothing to do. A dirty little town with no great scenery.

My guide told me that he called the tour company but that they could not refund the money for the night as they had already paid the hotel. This was a brazen lie. We had been scheduled to stay at two hotels and changed our minds and stayed at two others. The guide was paying for the rooms in cash as we went. I told the guide that this was bullshit and he called the agency and was then told that the money had already been deposited in the bank. I have heard every possible excuse as to why somebody cannot refund money here in Peru and was a bit tired of it all. Sure it was only thirty soles about $11 USD but I just don´t like getting ripped off.

I went to the agency this morning, for the record, especially so anybody doing a web search on this agency finds this posting, the information on the business card reads:

AI Travel Tours
Ronald W. Piclo9m M.
Gerente Administrative

STA Catalina no 203 Of. ' Cercado
TELFÑ (51-054) 630633
ronald-21-8@hotmail.com
www.aitraveltours.com
ai_travel_tours@hotmail.es

I consulted the map provided by the hotel. The map was absolutely worthless. The names on the streets were all wrong. Admittedly sometimes the streets change names and they may not have put more than one name on a street but certainly on more than one occassion the street was mislabelled, the map indicates a street named Santa Catalina running east of Ugarte while Santa Catalina runs north and south and intersects Ugarte.

In any event I just back tracked from memory as I had only bought the ticket four days ago. I entered the office and told the girl that I wanted a refund. She referred me to her manager. He picked up a cell phone and called his boss. Then he told me he would have to call the guide and could I come back later. Just another stalling tactic. I said ¨"Sure no problem." My hand snaked out and I snatched the cell phone from his hand. I told him he could have it back after I had my refund and that I would return shortly and I walked out of the building. He had a stunned look on his face. The phone started ringing every minute, the caller ID indicating the same number every time, undoubtably the office.

I walked down the street wondering if he was going to call the cops on me, but figured it was unlikely. The phone became annoying and I turned it off and removed the battery, although the likelihood of the Peruvian Police trying to triangulate my position was next to zero, they would be much more likely to wait at my hotel if they were both called and gave a shit.

An hour later I returned and saw my guide on the sidewalk. I brought him into the agency and said, ¨"Your final excuse doesn´t hold water, here is my guide.¨" The guide asked me to step outside for a minute, made a phone call and told me that he was authorized to refund my last night´s fare and asked if I had his boss´s cell phone. I exchanged the phone for 30 soles and went my merry way.

Anybody surfing the web for information regarding this agency, be informed that the lie. The told me that we were staying at another hotel that was really nice while all the other tours stay at hotels, in the Oasis that are filled with mosquitos with horrible beds. The whole area is very arid, there is no place for mosquitos to breed. We never stayed at the hotel he indicated but rather at one with wonderful beds and no mosquitos. The accomodations were extremely basic, adobe, thatched roof and dirt floors but by the time we went to bed nobody cared.

The brochures show waterfalls of up to 50 meters. Granted these exist in the canyon, but far away from any area visited in the tour. Take your business elsewhere. Try Marlons-travel.com or visit the fantastic people at marlons house in Arequipa.

---

Update. I have many pockets. My have seven, my shirt two, my vest far more than than the sum of the previous garments. I stuck my hand in my vest and found the battery for the phone that I had returned earlier. I offered the battery to the man who had previously abused me. He had his phone but a replacement battery was probably three days wages. I didn't have to return the battery, but it was the right thing to do. He looked at the floor, extended his hand and gave a genuine expression of appreciation. I am not a dick, but I don't like to me dicked.

Colca Canyon

Tuesday June 4, 2010
I woke up at two o'clock when my cell phone alarm went off. My promised wakeup call never came.

Yesterday I took the precaution of securing 10 doses of anti-diarheall and tetracycline to assist me in the recovery of any future bouts of food poisoning.
I finished my packing and put my bags in the luggage room, an unlocked and unattended room on the first floor of the hotel. I noshed on a beef empanada and a chicken empanada I purchased last night, brushed my teeth and hard and drank the glass of coca tea which had been steeping since last night.

As I sat on the main steps facing the front door a light flickered through the window. A man and a woman stood on the walk with a passenger manifest in hand and asked for Florien, a 32 year old Austrian with whom I had a guinea pig dinner last night. I walked off toward his room and was intercepted by Rosa who told me that Florien was asleep and that that was no problem. This is the same woman who promised to wake me at two. I ignored here and fetched Florien and returned to my perch on the stairs.

Ten minutes later I responded to another flicker; this time it was I being summoned. We walked down the street to out transport, a large van with six rows of passenger seats with a set of two on the port side and a single seat on the starboard side excepting the last row which had four seats. With my shoulder against the window my left should extended half way across the aisle. A Quechan in the seat ahead of me was teaching Spanish to the couple across the aisle, who communicated with the instructor in heavily accented English which could not possibly have been their primary language.

After several more stops we departed, presumable having picked up all who had signed on for this trip. There are four other solo travelers and two couples. The couple learning Spanish is in their late fifties or early sixties; the balance of the adventurers is in their twenties. The guide came over and introduced himself as Edgar and explained that we had a four hour bus ride to Chivay where we would buy admission to the park and then proceed to our next stop Cabanacoca. The bus stopped in front of a small store, the large European got out and I followed. Two apples, four bananas and a large bag of coca leaves came to three soles.

4:12 Now that I am paying a little more attention I see that the European is teaching the Quechan Polish. Hmm, I have been using a term I have yet to introduce. At the height of the Inca Empire there were ten million Quechans but only one Inca, the ruler; although today the terms are used interchangeably. Quechua is the name of the people and the language. West of the Andes the Peruvian population seems to be predominantly Quechan outside of Lima, though they seem to invariably also speak Spanish. The hawkers know Pidgin English.

4:19 It is now 4:18 and I shall attempt to nap but fear that my efforts will be in vain.

6:56 I had retired to the back of the van and laid across all four seats. The guide seemed amused at the fact that I was sporting morning wood when he woke me up. We ride along the butte the terraced slopes rising above us to our left. To the right lies the canyon over which on the far side lies a broader butte and more terraces, the stairs of giants, ascending to the crest.

6:59 The entire valley is planted in regions enclosed by stone walls, some mortared and some so crude they appear to be nothing more than a relocation of rocks away from the tilled areas.

7:12 As we head north, further into the canyon the terraced wall faces are almost completely covered with verdant growth.

7:21 A pueblo, church in stone walled corrals. A huge expanse of cactus to the west. A tunnel at least half a kilometer followed by the grey dusty rock embedded slopes to the west.
Shit even more boring than the above has been deleted.

7:44 Tighten laces in preparation for a four hour descent.

7:45 Arrived at Cruz del Condor.

9:02 And we are off. The huge Andean Condors show up at the appointed time. It is difficult to say how many individuals we saw. There were at least two adults and one juvenile. The juvenile approached within eight meters of us and perched on a rock. They exhibit no fear of man.

I had chosen a premier spot, based on observations of the photographs I figured they would soar below us so I chose a spot with the widest angle of view of the canyon. Were they to soar at our level it mattered not where one stood? When the great birds appeared a German woman squeezed in next to me and kept elbowing me. I refused to crowd those to my right to make way for her. Every time she elbowed me to make room I shuffled a little closer to squeeze her even more.

Next stop is Cabanaconde.

9:51 Time to check into hotel in Cabanaconde. Wander around town for an hour and a half and then have lunch.

10:00 Change of plans, we will eat lunch after a trek. Edgar is provisioning, bought one pound of flour out of a five pound bag, tea, onions, potatoes, green beans, carrots, rice total price $8.50 soles. I sure as hell hope there is more for the four of us to eat in three days than this.

I met Maria, the Ariquepean and Anna the 24 year old Swiss woman. Anna hikes every weekend in the Alps. Maria speaks nothing but Spanish, she doesn't look like she spends a lot of time hiking.

10:34 Two small mutts humping in the road. We stop at Virgen Del Carmen hostal, Anna sheds nothing.

10:37 The people of the valley, the Colca, have three important gods, the earth, the mountain and the river. This monument is ostensibly in the shape of the mountain behind it. The people walk into the canyon, exchanging the locally grown corn for the fruit grown in the valley; the produce is carried in sacks on their backs.

10:50 Arrived at a sight at which we can see the towns in the distance and start our three hour descent.

11:36 It is getting hot.

13:17 Made it to the bridge. I must have blisters on every toe. My legs are rubber.

13:44 OWalk over theountain to get the llamas and alpaca nothing for them to eatkinmmkmmaaqmc sjdeesk here but thr mules will eat this scrubkkk Mu.
The above entry was not my proudest moment of not taking. In any event there are no animals kept in this part of the valley. The vegetation is too sparse to support anything but mules. The hardy folk walk for three weeks, carrying their water on their backs to a remote village with better foliage and obtain alpacas which then walk back and butcher.

14:40 Lunch of soup, alpaca, rice followed by euchre with Anna and two Juniors from Indianapolis. These boys carried a library on their backs, and a tent, sleeping bags full hard core trekking. They passed water from the river through an activated charcoal filter; I doubted that it would remove the arsenic and heavy metals from the much polluted river. This area is downstream of silver and gold mining.

15:45 I am huddling underneath a mound of blankets. In this rarified air warmth dissipates quickly after sunset. There is no electrical service to these primitive cabins. My flashlight was stolen in Puerto Narino almost in front of my eyes during a black while I was in a billiard parlor.

Dinner was mashed potatoes in the Peruvian style, very runny, topped with a minuscule porting of diced alpaca in nearly homeopathic concentrations in runny gravy with sides of boiled white rice and green beans. It could not have been more than 600 calories, not much sustenance after a five hour hike.

My fellow trekkers are a 24 year old Swiss girl who lives in the Alps and treks every weekend and a woman from Arequipa. Both of them handily beat me to the bottom of the canyon. The walk today was almost entirely downhill. It was slipper walking. The path was dry but fine gravel covered the rocks acting as ball bearings. I had few opportunities to take photos if I were to keep up the pace. The Arequipan took photos with her cell phone as she walked. Apparently neither composition nor focus were elements of her photographic style. When it was time to ascent the other side after we had crossed the bridge she had her comeuppance. I thought she was going to pass out. I asked the guide if he had any oxygen but he administered a topical lotion containing salicylic acid in alcohol with a few other ingredients. She applied the liquid to her face but I think it was the rest that helped the most.
After twenty minutes of walking on level ground we arrived at our camp. Two youths from Indianapolis, juniors in college, Anna and I played euchre until dinner.

June 5, 2010

6:15 My accommodation was an adobe building with cobblestone floors a window without panes and a quarter of a shower curtain for drapes. The door is about five and a half feet tall. There are but two toilets for the whole facility. No seat, no toilet paper, outside on the exterior wall is a sink with a faucet that yields no water. The shower works and has soap in it.

6:22 Everything in this valley was either carried in or transported on the backs of mules. The doors to one of the sleeping quarter are steel; the room has bars over the windows. This seems like an extreme security measure in such a remote valley. It is difficult to conceive of someone breaking in and walking for four hours up the side of the canyon in full sight of the camp with the only furnishing in the room, a bed. Perhaps they are afraid of someone stealing the lodger’s gear while the camp is occupied. Hell I had someone in Panama break into my apartment and steal two computers, my camera, and as a final indignity, my wallet which was in my pants, laying on the foot of my bed while I slept it int. These are not trails one should travel alone lest one get robbed.

6:59 As I await breakfast I reflect on yesterdays walk while gazing at the steep canyon walls down upon which we made our descent. It is not possible to photographically capture the full extent of their height from the narrow valley even with a wide angle lens. For long stretches the trail cuts across the face descending at a slope of thirty degrees. The foot falls ahead and either gains firm purchase driving the foot forward and abrading and further irritating the knuckles of my toes or lands on gravel which rolls underfoot.

7:56 We pass a cactus known as Tuna. There are large orchards of them here, the fruit is said to be delicious. On the cactus is a small white insect known as cochinia. ?????? ???When crushed it yields a bright purplish red liquid which is used as a fabric dye. The insects fetch 400 soles a kilo. As they are very small a huge number must be collected to amount to a kilo, they must weight just a fraction of a gram. Another plant which lines the trail is used to make tea to cure stomach aches and to cure sore muscles when crushed and rubbed against the skin.

8:42 Arrived in Casneihuia ??? at elevation 2600 meters, the bottom of the canyon is at 2335 meters. The locals trade their wares for llama, walking for three weeks at a time carrying their water in huge jugs on their backs, leading mules bearing their food and gear. The towns have an upper part and a lower part. The population of the two regions does not socialize. The lower regions, nearer the river grow the crops; my guide was unable to tell me how those in the upper regions supported themselves. Most of the houses are roofless and abandoned. On February 2 a celebration is held, the Virgen of the Candelleria. There is much dancing and the two groups socialize, often young men choose a woman even of the other elevation and they dance closely and then get married. The guide had no idea if these people were socializing prior to the dance; he also stated that metal roofs are put on the abandoned houses and people come in from Arequipa and Cusco for the celebration and the roofs are taken down. I begin to question if he has any idea at all what he is talking about.
We sat in front of a small one room museum and had a glass of chicha. A woman showed us how crops were ground, rocking stones, how salt gathered from mines near the peak is ground and candles made of llama grease that burn for eight hours. I wonder how salt mines were created at this elevation. It is simply not possible that this area was ever covered by seas at this elevation. Were the salt deposits made before the mountains rose from the earth?

11:00 We arrived at the oasis. The pampas is verdant in strong contrast to the dusty slopes that surround it. There are four camps with swimming pools. I had been advised by the cocksucker at AI Tours in Arequipa, who sold me this trip that his tour was different as we would not be staying in the nasty accommodations with horrible beds, swarming with mosquitoes but rather in a very nice hotel. The hotel which I had visited yesterday was in the dirty, dusty town of Cabanaconde. This place was wonderful, beautiful and could not possibly have any mosquitoes due to its aridness.

We have decided to stay the night here rather than trek for three more hours to stay in Cabanaconde. I bought a beer for my guide and one for myself and we sat and chatted. The beers were 10 soles each, almost three times the price of beer in Arequipa, but they had to be packed in on mules. I asked if we were to see the fifty meter waterfall on the way out but was informed that it was in a very remote portion of the canyon which we would not be visiting. Cocksucker! The prettiest part of the canyon is also the deepest. The trek is nine hours downhill followed by rappelling and kayaking. This sounded wonderful. My guide called over another guide who leads treks down there; the other guide advised me that I was twice as wide as the trail and that I would be hanging over precipices thousands of meters tall. So much for that trip.

A mule sells for 6000 soles. That is a lot of money, about 2,200 dollars. Mules sell for $250 in Santa Fe, Panama. I presume they use the time honored tradition of crossing a male donkey with a female horse and wonder at the cost of equine push buttons around here. My guide thought it hilarious when I asked why a donkey fuck was so expensive here.
Lunch was soup and perhaps an ounce or an ounce and a half of chicken, half a cup of boiled rice and a small boiled potato.

17:30 An oasis in the valley, verdant and terraced, studded by large granite boulders one of which forms a wall of two swimming pools, rising between them perhaps six meters. Water is captured far up the side of the mountain, diverted into a pipe from whence it spews into a small pool, is recaptured and feeds two fountains into a swimming pool which is thereby continuously provided with fresh water, the overflow captured to feed the other swimming pool, the destination of the spillage of which cannot be determined by the casual observer. Shat is afforded by exotic palms on the lawns which cover the lower flat areas. Hammocks are secured to posts for railings on one end and radiate out from a moderate size tree. Cobblestone pathways connect the various buildings used as temporary dwellings for the transients. The sleeping quarters are built of bamboo or adobe, have thatched roofs of llama grass, rather than the palm fronds used at lower elevations; the floors are dirt. The rooms have no electricity. Poorly made doors hang from tiny hinges secured by bent nails. This is not the finest craftsmanship in the country.

The tables’ tops are a section of palm trunk secured over a pedestal of palm trunk of significantly smaller diameter. The chairs are section of palm trunk sawn nearly through for the seat and with the majority of the height of the chair being the back.
18:03 Three people are preparing dinner; peas were shucked from their pods. The pods are accumulated in a ten gallon bucket awaiting delivery to the pigs. My guide and a woman are dicing carrots. Water is boiling on the adobe wood fired stove. The stove has openings for two pots. A central island has a large three burner stove, capable of prodigious heat output; the propane tank is replaced every ten days.

Candle holders are constructed by sawing the tops off of two and half liter water bottles with serrated knives. Water is placed in the lower portion for stability, the tops inverted, additional water is placed in the top portion and a candle is inserted.

Darkness arrived as though a light was switched off in a windowless room. There was no lingering twilight; the sun disappeared behind the mountains. The cooks all wear head lamps. Seems like a very strange way to cook as there is electricity. A few judiciously located fluorescent or LED bulbs would save a lot of money on batteries. I only used rechargeable batteries in my flashlights. It is easier, more convenient and less expensive that feeding them disposable batteries, which are hard to dispose of in an environmentally conscientious manner. Diced papaya, onions and tomatoes are added to the boiling water.

19:28 Soup followed by diced carrots and peas with rice, hardly enough food for an appetizer. Anna facilitates communication between Maria and me, in addition to English and Spanish she knows German and her native language. I await the spaghetti that never came. The other group was eating huge mounds of pasta. My total caloric intake for the day could scarcely have been more than a thousand calories; not much when one is sedentary, an insult when trekking heavily. The guides in the kitchen are feasting on huge quantities of rice and chicken. I storm off to bed, ravenously hungry after chewing out my guide. I share quarters with Maria and Anna, the guide has other accommodations.

June 6 - Day Three

5:27 Beneath a half moon a man sweeps the bottom of the empty swimming pool. I search for my guide and pay my tab at the concession stand with dollars at an exchange rate of 2.50 soles per dollar. I am out of soles, what can one do?

6:07 We have only been climbing for half an hour and I am dying. Anna is either determined to set a record ascent time or just incredibly fit. I slow down to my customary pace, but none of my former training was with a pack.

6:51 Two more hours to the top.

7:30 A team of mules passes us. The guide tells me we need to speed up; the women are way ahead of us. I had been told that the hike out was two to four hours. I was on my way to a three hour trek and now I was being pressed to make it two and a half. Cocksuckers. AI Tours, Arequipa, Cocksuckers.

I consent to take a mule to the top to meet the guide’s schedule. From this point I was told that the fare would be thirty soles. My guide called Juan back who wanted forty. I indicated that I had but thirty which he grudgingly agreed to. Now I would have no sole for the hot springs or lunch. I am about the maximum carrying capacity for a mule, the mule driver dons my pack and I mount the mule. “Adelante!” I thought the mule driver was just urging the mules on; he occasionally prodded them with tip of my walking stick. An English speaking person indicated that I should lean forward as it was easier on the mule when climbing. My mule panted, I was sure I would be sitting on a dead animal in minutes.

8:16 We arrive at the top, the guide throws my pack, bearing my camera to the hard ground and races off to catch one of his mules returning to collect his money.
8:58 We sat at the only table left at the restaurant. My chair was in front of the door to the alley which led to the Peruvian bathroom. It seemed as though I got up twice for every person in the restaurant. Two portions of bread, a single egg and a single cup of coffee composed our breakfast.

10:39 The bus takes off. My guide told me that the agency already gave the money to the hotel and that I would not be receiving a refund for the unused night. It was only thirty soles, about eleven dollars but my faithful readers will know that I don’t take this abuse lightly, it is an insult. I told the guide that this was patently bullshit. Both nights we stayed at places other than were described to me by the cocksucker and AI travel. The guide was paying in cash in the morning. No money had been paid to any hotel. I had the guide call again, this time I was told that the manager was not there and that the money had already been deposited. I have heard every excuse and told my guide that I would be in the office in the morning and that I would be receiving a refund which elicited a dubious look.

11:04 We stopped again at Cruz del Condors, but it was too late in the day for the great birds.

11:34 Despite the huge number of terraces I see no crops, just dusty grey soil.

12:28 At the hot springs having passed through Chivay. Admission was ten soles, but I had none. Ambling around the walls I saw the tanks which were obviously used to heat the water, this was not naturally 39 degree mineral water. I walked over to the little food stands and managed to exchange a twenty dollar US bill for fifty soles and purchased admission to the hot springs. My bag was locked in the bus, I entered the changing room doffed my vest, shirt boots and socks then unzipped the pants at the knees, now attired in Columbia Titanium polyester expedition pants and Mountain Wear polyester underwear. I showered, swam for twenty minutes, dressed and sat in a chair for five minutes which was sufficient time for my pants to dry and donned the rest of my attire. As I walked out the pools the bus pulled up. I stoked up on large portions of food at the wonderful buffet, owned and operated by a Japanese couple. Lunch was twenty soles. Maria likewise had several platefuls of food.

15:51 The terrain to the right is gray with very sparse vegetation like dinner plates of green scattered amongst the rocks and dust. In the distance lie the cragged peaks of the mountains. Nearer is a mound looking like a huge loaf of baked mud. This is the highest elevation of the trip well over four thousand meters. For some reason we disembark and take pictures. A short ways down the road hundreds of llamas, dark brown, light brown and white, graze on the sparse vegetation.

18:15 It is dark and in the distance I thought I could see the second largest city in Peru, our destination, Arequipa. The buildings were too high and the city too small. As we neared it I saw that it was an isolated facility of manufacture on a grand scale. Illuminated inclined planes zigged and zagged between large structures. Further down the road a great white wall eclipsed my view. Ahh, limestone, it was a concrete factory.

18:26 We have made it to the outskirts of Arequipa. Finally we pulled up in front of Monastery Santa Catalina, the largest monastery in South America and possibly the world, a city within a city, with five acres of buildings and roads. I walked back to my hotel. As I was a day early my requested room was not available and I took one within the bowels of the building. No private bath, but it sure was quiet.

Strolling around Arequipa

Today I strolled through town center, and saw the beginnings of a sand art contest, then I went to the Santa Catalina Monastery. I followed this with a return to the ceviceria at which I had lunch yesterday and had an obscene amount of ceviche and fried various stuff from the sea. I couldn't even touch the rice I was so full. I'm spoiled, I'm beginning to think that $8 for a meal is a lot of money.

On my return trip I went through town square again, the art work was interesting, but hard to view as they were something like 6 meters on a side constructed on the ground and had to be viewed from the sidewalk. A church service started with beautiful hymns in front of a gorgeous church in what must be the prettiest town square in South America.

I came home paid my tab for my room and breakfast for three days, 84 soles, less than $30. I love this hotel, the location, the staff, the security, the water. I'll be back Monday night. I'm off to Colca Canyon for trekking, bird watching (almost certain to see Andean Condor), sight seeing, 50 meter waterfall, 1,200 meter cliffs.

Time for bed. I have to get up at 3.

Walk around Arequipa

I strolled out of the hotel and down to the main square which is anchored on an enormous Catholic church in the style of most Latin American countries. A pretty girl came up to me and asked if I would take her picture in front of the square and I obliged her. Then I had her pose, wearing my hat, which I do everywhere I go. She liked the picture so much she had me take one with her camera.

Well over nine out of ten cars here are taxis, tiny Hundais. I was given a list of three taxi companies I should use by the wonderful staff at the hotel. There are scores of taxi cab companies in this town. I asked what was wrong with the other companies and I was informed that I could be robbed, kidnapped or driven out of town and beaten. Ok. I'll stick with your recommendations. The business clump together around here. There are five blocks where about the only street level business is optics, eyeglasses and contact lenses. A short ways away a couple of blocks of nothing but solar water heaters and solar electrical panels. I can't see any product differentiation between the stores. Although one would think that this would be a shoppers paradise with all the competition I recall that about one quarter of the businesses in downtown Cusco were tour companies all offering the same tours at the same price. Getting off track a bit they all go to the same places in the same order at the same time. If somebody were to do the Sacred Valley tour backwards then I'd go with them. Nobody but our group would be at the first or last stop.

Another street had nothing but very small shops jammed with specialty items, one had nothing but molded plastic, hundreds of cubic feet of plastic clothes pins made up about one quarter of the inventory. Specialty stores for toilet paper, eggs, chain, rope, styrofoam containers. Some of the stores where the size of a small closet about 3 feet by 3 feet. The vendor sat on the sidewalk in front of the store. Other significantly larger stores were so jammed with merchandise that the owner sat on the sidewalk in front of it as there was no room for him inside.

I saw a vegetable store and bought one kilo of tomatoes, a large head of lettuce, a large cucumber, a large carrot, an onion, a pint of vinegar and a pint of oil for four sols about $1.40. Then I wondered how long I was going to walk around carrying this bag and just gave it to some guy sitting in a driveway. Six hard boiled quails eggs were one sol and delicious. I went back for more and the guy was busted, he was selling them to the locals seven for a sol, but I pretended not to notice.

An old man was shuffling down the street very slowly, hunched over he moved his four legged cane three or four inches and his feet accordingly. I hailed a cab had the driver, put the man in the front seat and handed the driver three sols. I then confirmed that the fare was complete and he wasn't going to ask the man for more.

It's eight o'clock. I think I'll read a little about the Lost Land of the Incas and retire early. The day after tomorrow I will be getting up at two in the morning to begin a long hike, may as well get my body used to early to bed early to rise.

Later.

Ariquipa

I left Cusco last night on a Cruz del Sur bus. For $39 I had an 8 hour bus ride in a huge fully reclining leather seat. I edited some pictures, ran out of battery on the computer and reclined for a nap. I woke up at 5:12 when they turned on the lights. At the bus terminal I was handed a pamphlet for Marlon's House in Arequipa. Big Colonial building in town central.

A taxi ride cost me 5 sols, I'm sure I was overcharged and the hostel would have picked me up for free but I just wanted to continue my blissful sleep. A man stood at the front door and said they had no room ready, but one would be ready in an hour. He showed me a temporary room, that did not have a private bath and I slept for another couple of hours. When I awoke and walked out of the room he told me my room was ready and showed my upstairs.

For 25 sols a night I have a 300 square foot room with an extremely comfortable bed, a huge bathroom with unbelievable water pressure and 24 hour central hot water, no suicide showers here. There are five staff members and four guests. I don't understand the economics of it.

My breakfast was a couple of cups of instant coffee, coffee Peruvian, 2 pieces of bread that are kind of like fluffy pita loaves, butter, marmalade a fried egg and juice of fresh mango and banana. I chatted with Florio a fellow guest from Austria, who told me that he really liked this town and the hotel and we agreed on which towns did not impress us so that made his opinion carry a bit of weight. I am in the process of checking my email. As I typed this Rosario a staff member came up to my room and gave me my fanny pack, which has about $1,000 worth of stuff in it and my passport; I had left it in the staging room.

This could be my base camp for the next couple of weeks, lots of mountains to climb, valleys to explore. Free room service, hot water for Coca infusion coming right up.