At 11am we were eagerly sat on our backpacks at the side of the dusty road waitingfor a bus that would take us to a town we could only remember began with the letter V, and from there we were to get a connection to Sucre. Samaipata is such a small town that there isn´t a bus stop and we were told the bus could come any time around 11.30am and that when we saw it we shhould stand in the middle of the road and awave our arms around as the driver wouldn´t be expecting to pick up gringos. We had been sat there since 11am and at about 12 noon a local man speaking fluent English approached our now sandblasted faces and told us that there hadn´t been any pubic transport along here in three days- something to do with the government and what he had heard on his radio. He seemed a bit of a loco so we weren´t quite sure what to believe. Laura headed up the road to ask others what they had heard, but unhelpfully she was sent to the building next door at each place she arrived until there were no more buildings to be sent for.
Our patience had melted under the blazing sunshine by 12.30pm. By the time it reached 1pm it was clear the 11.30 bus was not going to pick us up, so admitting defeat we picked up our belongings and headed back to the town centre to figure out how on Earth we were going to leave today. We had been told about 4 night buses that pass through, but frustratingly everywhere that we had found to be helpful was shut for a siesta- the only possible thing to do was find somewhere to eat. We sat in a cafe just off the plaza called ¨Mad Cow¨and enjoyed a large jug of lemonade that we drew out as long as we could whist writing up diaries and generally passing the time with fingers crossed we would soon find a solution.
A couple of hours later and we returned to the Roadrunners guys who had given us the information the day before. This time we were greeted by a lady we had not met before and who was exceedingly helpful- much more so than the guys had been, giving us the addresses of four companies that would sell us a ticket on a night bus for that evening which avoided the need to change at the other village and would see us arrive there by morning. The first place we were sent was right back to pne of the buildings that Laura had already visited in search of information in the morning- the one at the end of the road. Once again the monosyllabic guy grumbled a resoundingly unhelpful "No" and turned his back on us without any more information. Our patience was wearing thin.
We annoyingly huffed back to town again to find another agent who thankfully could help us- but by now it was too late in the day to book the damn ticket! The bus from Santa Cruz would have left the station just 15 minutes ago and so we were stuck here for another day. I was beginning to clench my fists under the table when the phone call she to the bus company to secure tickets for next day ended abruptly- we weren´t even able to go tomorrow. It seemed the crazy guy from earlier wasn´t so crazy after all- we had been stranded by a series of lorry strikes that had placed blockades around the highland towns- no-one was able to get in or out of any of them and we were to be stranded until Friday at least. She agreed to try again tomorrow for us and we just had to keep our fingers crossed.
We headed back to our hotel where to the owner´s delight we booked in for the next two nights at least- potentially the unforeseeable future. In our extra 2 and a half days we were free to arrange some lovely outings in the area- but our next pay check was not due in the bank for another four days- we had just enough money to sleep and eat so a pricey trek in the National Park was out of the question. We were stumped for ideas- we had eaten in every restaurant, gone online in the one internet cafe far too many times already and were getting to know all the locals by which shops they owned. We knew the little town like the back of our hands- maybe it was tme to get a job here?!
I don´t think that there has been a single moment in the last 6 months that we culd say we were bored, but for the next two days we certainly came close. The first day was not so bad- having the hotel available for the whole day we indulged in a long lie in, planned further engagement parties and wedding details and lazed in the pretty garden on the comfortable hammock. The greatest adventure came when Laura tried to use the incredibly dangerous gas stove. An appliance that would certainly be banned in the UK- the owner set the huge flame going when he connected a gas bottle to the rusty counter with a very dodgy hose pipe. The appliance hissed into life, and when he dropped the match from a nervous distance the flames rose high enough to take his eyebrows off. Apparently Laura struggled to stir her porridge continuously whilst keeping the skin on her arm intact as the violent heat burnt the oats to the bottom of the visciously bubbling pan. I was calmly relaxing in the garden when she came screaming out to get me to help her control the flames- she had tried to turn the appliance off and the flame burst from the switch she had used, turning the dial into a flame thrower with fire shooting out and almost touching the roof. I shouted for the owner who came running to our aid- threw water across the flames to dispell them for long enough to try and fiddle with the dial and control the seeping gas. When he finally turned the gas bottle of at the other end we collapsed into nervous hysterics as he mutter the understatement "poco peligroso".
The next day was not so easily spent. We had to be out of our room in the morning and could only think of the internet as a distraction- rains through the night had turned the streets to muddy paths and the grey skies and chilly breeze made spending time outside less inviting. Halfway through a long to-do list we had constructed in a hope to make the most of this dead time a girl next to Laura told her she had been on the internet too long and that her friend was waiting- half shocked I apologised and hurried to finish what I was doing, though Laura was a little more frustrated by the rudeness of the girl when we left the internet 5 minutes later- we had been on a productive roll and who was she to tell us we had been there too long?! After wandering around fairly aimlessly and buying another cup of coffee so we might be able to sit in a cafe we really felt time beginning to drag. The following 5 hours passed slowly before we returned to the side of the road and eventually boarded our long anticipated bus to Sucre- it had better be good!!
Monday, 8 March 2010
Friday, 5 March 2010
"I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it well"
Glad to escape the devil child we disembarked onto the dusty streets of Samaipata. The first sight of this town gave the impression we had arrived in a tiny little backwater, but a walk around the corner of the cobbled street brought us ti a row of hotels and tour operators. We soon checked into the beautiful Residential Don Jorge where the rooms surrounded a plaza complete with a fruit-laden pomegranate tree (a few of which were picked, eaten and delicious).
A wonder down into the town revealed the pleasant plaza full of trees and monuments to various Bolivian historical figures. The red tiled roofs sat atop sand coloured plastered houses giving views through to the rolling green mountains in which this small town nestles. At 1,800 metres the temperature here has been steadily delightful and the days blessed with blue skies and golden sunshine. It has been easy to enjoy the relaxed and lovely vibe of this beautiful town.
Other than stroll around we did little more on our first day than get information from some helpful German guys that have settled here and run Roadrunners tour agency. Letting us know everything from the tours they run to the best places to eat we headed out to test their theories and took an early night. It had been quite a journey to get here- particularly for Blakey!
The next morning we took a leisurely approach to the day- it really felt like a lazy Sunday. The small collection of ex-pats that have settled here has led to some homely treats, including freshly baked croissants for breakfast. We then took some bread (also freshly baked) with us for a pretty stroll up a nearby hill to the ´Refugio Zoologico´. Nothing in comparison to the Santa Cruz zoo, this tiny refuge held a collection of animals bought injured from the wild whom had become too accustomed to their human carers to be re-released. The animals here have become so accustomed that many are not caged but simply roam free around the small grounds. This led to a little confusion when Blakey, carrying our picnic, was told to be careful as there was a cheetah wondering around that could become aggressive if we didn´t hand food over. We soon realised it was not quite as dangerous as it initially seemed, and that cheetah was actually the name of a monkey!
After a look around the small collection of cages with curious animals that seemed as pleased to see us as we were to see them, we encountered a number of cute little primates. A couple of squirrel monkeys were curled up in a hammock strung up outside the house and two larger monkeys with copious amounts of confidence sprang onto the shoulders of the keepers, curling their long arms and tail around their necks like an elaborate scarf.
We sat and ate our lunch in the pretty spot, looking out across the hills and watching a spider monkey jump around excitedly. We were almost ready to go when the best guide we had met since starting our travels arrived. Dennis was a young French boy, no more than 11 years old, who had moved with his family to a village about an hour away. He had been staying in Samaipata for the week to attend school and the roads were too dangerous after recent rains for him to return for the weekend, so the Swiss family that own the zoo were looking after him. It was clear this was a home for home for him as after politely addressing us in Spanish he switched to English in order to tell us more about the inhabitants of the zoo.
As he finished feeding a caged group of monkeys he put his head to the wire for them to groom him as they do for each other in the wild. As a couple pulled and tugged at his hair he explained that the large female in the cage had given him the deep scar on his cheek, so he was weary of her. Still, he knew it was in their nature and seemed utterly forgiving as the others enjoyed his attention.
After a while he wanted to show us the singing monkey- one of the larger monkeys that had been wondering around. Locating it in a nearby tree Dennis whipped out his mobile phone and started to play Avril Lavigne´s ´´I don´t like your boyfriend´´. To start with the monkey just looked bemused so he climbed the tree to sit with him, at which point the monkey started making the deepest, quite scary guttural sounds. This monkey was a skater boi!
Dennis was enjoying sharing this place with us and wanted to show us the female of the pair- the infamous Cheetah, as well as a coati, one of his favourite animals. Expecting to start searching around he took us straight to one of the cages where he opened the doors and invited us in. His relaxed confidence and enthusiasm for the creatures put us at ease and before we had even stepped through the second door Cheetah was draped around my neck, the coati was greeting Dennis like a puppy with it´s owner and Blakey had a wild pig rubbing his legs and licking his ankles. The animals all swapped their affections a few times with us and our day was made. Thanking Dennis wholeheartedly we started the rambling descent back to town to enjoy our pictures and video footage. This was fast becoming another town on our favourites list.
The next morning we were up early in a bid to phone home, but a long wait at the bank led to a leisurely breakfast and a short wait to ensure Blakey`s Granny would have returned from her birthday lunch for a call from her strapping grandson. After a nice catch up we headed back to town to see the sights surrounding this area. Hopping in a taxi we travelled up a bumpy and steep path to the pre Inca site of El Fuerte. Sat on top of a peak the area was beautifully positioned for views across the distance. Again we wondered peacefully around the large circuit taking in the strange carvings of this huge exposed rock. In hindsight maybe we should have splashed out for a guide as we did not know the significance of what looked like a life sized model village sculpted in the rocks here. Carved rectangles and oblongs represented doors and windows with faded carvings of jaguars and geometric patterns adorning the fake houses. It seemed the rock was solid so the place could not have been functional- we will have to google it when we get home! In addition the sight was surrounded by the remains of walls from an Inca settlement that found El Fuerte and decided it was cool enough to set up camp next to.
That evening, after an email from home about wedding invitations, we had a long discussion about when we would return home and when we would let people know. A few months ago we had to book a return flight and had decided to go for an earlier date then originally planned but did not want to say in case we changed our minds and stayed longer. Now we decided that we would be returning then, and as much as we liked the idea of turning up on our parents doorstep out of the blue to see their faces, we liked the idea of organising parties and ensuring people had the time off work to attend even more. We resolved to call home again the following day and let everyone know.
But when we woke up in the morning we had a day of activities planned first. Having hired bikes from the friendly Roadrunner guys we both took to the saddle to descend 500 metres over 20 kilometres to the nearby ´Cuevas´, a set of waterfalls. Leaving our hostel we both wobbled most ungracefully on the cobbled road in a way that did not bode well. The slightly rusty bikes needed chains oiling as the gears constantly cracked, often changing of their own free will. Blakey`s brakes seemed to cause his bike (with no tire tread left) to veer to the right significantly, where as my brakes just had little effect at all. It was with much trepidation that we took to the dodgy, pothole ridden main road with the infamous Bolivian drivers (thankfully not many, but more often driving huge, wide heavy trucks) that would blare their horns the moment they passed- often making Blakey jump in that special way he always does! The first half hour of the journey was not at all fun as we struggled to control our dodgy bikes as the road rapidly descended. We stopped to wipe the sweat from our brow- not from hard work but from pant-wetting worry that we were going to swerve beneath the wheel s of one of these huge trucks! Thankfully, after discussing how less than ideal the journey was turning out to be we rounded a corner and the road started to run far more flat. The next hour was much more leisurely, allowing us to appreciate the pretty views of the dark green hills and condors flying overhead.
The last part of the route was not well displayed on the map. It looked as though we needed to follow a gravel road for ´Bella Vista´ and turn off for ´Las Cuevas´. We found the road and started to walk up the steep gravel track though it did not seem right. It wasn´t, but we enjoyed the ´Bella Vista´ mountain range ahead, the large pretty butterflies we passed and whirled away the time imagining our own Grand Design inspired by houses we had just cycled by and it`s multitude of features (winning lottery tickets will be required!)
When we had walked far enough to confirm it was not the right way (well over an hour now) we headed back and found the actual entrance to the waterfalls. By comparison the walk along the manicured path was a little tame and the resulting view slightly underwhelming, but we sat with our well earned chocolate bars and enjoyed the view before turning back to start the long journey uphill.
As we peddled up hard we soon began to worry that this was not as achievable as first hoped. Our bikes creaked as we pushed against the pedals with the gears still changing on their own accord with a large clank and sudden alter in tension- OK when it became loose but difficult to control when it felt like we could not push through the cycle. My chain had fallen off 3 times when I started to loose all hope of getting back- especially as I was so keen to call home and let parents know how soon we´d be back with them. We cycled for about an hour and stopped to get refreshments, then a little further still when we sat and enjoyed some more of our drinks along with a stunning view of a church backed by the hills. The church must have been blessed as soon after we were sent a saviour- our taxi driver from the previous day. For just 3 pounds he put his seats down, loaded the bikes and their riders and ferried us up what seemed like a very long and steep distance back to town. Still, Blakey got him to drop us a little further down the road and peddled 50 metres or so to the tour office for a dramatic brake scrunch and impression that we ha d not cheated at all. The owner was utterly shocked- most people bring them back in taxis!
So our last night in Samaipata involved phone calls home that were met with satisfying and touching excitement followed by what felt like a splash out meal in a lovely restaurant. We enjoyed delicious food at our candle lit table with a large jug of fresh lemonade and shared
an indulgent pudding all for 10 pounds. It felt great, to be so excited about going home and yet to have such a brilliant few days in this gorgeous town. We are so lucky to be having so much fun!
A wonder down into the town revealed the pleasant plaza full of trees and monuments to various Bolivian historical figures. The red tiled roofs sat atop sand coloured plastered houses giving views through to the rolling green mountains in which this small town nestles. At 1,800 metres the temperature here has been steadily delightful and the days blessed with blue skies and golden sunshine. It has been easy to enjoy the relaxed and lovely vibe of this beautiful town.
Other than stroll around we did little more on our first day than get information from some helpful German guys that have settled here and run Roadrunners tour agency. Letting us know everything from the tours they run to the best places to eat we headed out to test their theories and took an early night. It had been quite a journey to get here- particularly for Blakey!
The next morning we took a leisurely approach to the day- it really felt like a lazy Sunday. The small collection of ex-pats that have settled here has led to some homely treats, including freshly baked croissants for breakfast. We then took some bread (also freshly baked) with us for a pretty stroll up a nearby hill to the ´Refugio Zoologico´. Nothing in comparison to the Santa Cruz zoo, this tiny refuge held a collection of animals bought injured from the wild whom had become too accustomed to their human carers to be re-released. The animals here have become so accustomed that many are not caged but simply roam free around the small grounds. This led to a little confusion when Blakey, carrying our picnic, was told to be careful as there was a cheetah wondering around that could become aggressive if we didn´t hand food over. We soon realised it was not quite as dangerous as it initially seemed, and that cheetah was actually the name of a monkey!
After a look around the small collection of cages with curious animals that seemed as pleased to see us as we were to see them, we encountered a number of cute little primates. A couple of squirrel monkeys were curled up in a hammock strung up outside the house and two larger monkeys with copious amounts of confidence sprang onto the shoulders of the keepers, curling their long arms and tail around their necks like an elaborate scarf.
We sat and ate our lunch in the pretty spot, looking out across the hills and watching a spider monkey jump around excitedly. We were almost ready to go when the best guide we had met since starting our travels arrived. Dennis was a young French boy, no more than 11 years old, who had moved with his family to a village about an hour away. He had been staying in Samaipata for the week to attend school and the roads were too dangerous after recent rains for him to return for the weekend, so the Swiss family that own the zoo were looking after him. It was clear this was a home for home for him as after politely addressing us in Spanish he switched to English in order to tell us more about the inhabitants of the zoo.
As he finished feeding a caged group of monkeys he put his head to the wire for them to groom him as they do for each other in the wild. As a couple pulled and tugged at his hair he explained that the large female in the cage had given him the deep scar on his cheek, so he was weary of her. Still, he knew it was in their nature and seemed utterly forgiving as the others enjoyed his attention.
After a while he wanted to show us the singing monkey- one of the larger monkeys that had been wondering around. Locating it in a nearby tree Dennis whipped out his mobile phone and started to play Avril Lavigne´s ´´I don´t like your boyfriend´´. To start with the monkey just looked bemused so he climbed the tree to sit with him, at which point the monkey started making the deepest, quite scary guttural sounds. This monkey was a skater boi!
Dennis was enjoying sharing this place with us and wanted to show us the female of the pair- the infamous Cheetah, as well as a coati, one of his favourite animals. Expecting to start searching around he took us straight to one of the cages where he opened the doors and invited us in. His relaxed confidence and enthusiasm for the creatures put us at ease and before we had even stepped through the second door Cheetah was draped around my neck, the coati was greeting Dennis like a puppy with it´s owner and Blakey had a wild pig rubbing his legs and licking his ankles. The animals all swapped their affections a few times with us and our day was made. Thanking Dennis wholeheartedly we started the rambling descent back to town to enjoy our pictures and video footage. This was fast becoming another town on our favourites list.
The next morning we were up early in a bid to phone home, but a long wait at the bank led to a leisurely breakfast and a short wait to ensure Blakey`s Granny would have returned from her birthday lunch for a call from her strapping grandson. After a nice catch up we headed back to town to see the sights surrounding this area. Hopping in a taxi we travelled up a bumpy and steep path to the pre Inca site of El Fuerte. Sat on top of a peak the area was beautifully positioned for views across the distance. Again we wondered peacefully around the large circuit taking in the strange carvings of this huge exposed rock. In hindsight maybe we should have splashed out for a guide as we did not know the significance of what looked like a life sized model village sculpted in the rocks here. Carved rectangles and oblongs represented doors and windows with faded carvings of jaguars and geometric patterns adorning the fake houses. It seemed the rock was solid so the place could not have been functional- we will have to google it when we get home! In addition the sight was surrounded by the remains of walls from an Inca settlement that found El Fuerte and decided it was cool enough to set up camp next to.
That evening, after an email from home about wedding invitations, we had a long discussion about when we would return home and when we would let people know. A few months ago we had to book a return flight and had decided to go for an earlier date then originally planned but did not want to say in case we changed our minds and stayed longer. Now we decided that we would be returning then, and as much as we liked the idea of turning up on our parents doorstep out of the blue to see their faces, we liked the idea of organising parties and ensuring people had the time off work to attend even more. We resolved to call home again the following day and let everyone know.
But when we woke up in the morning we had a day of activities planned first. Having hired bikes from the friendly Roadrunner guys we both took to the saddle to descend 500 metres over 20 kilometres to the nearby ´Cuevas´, a set of waterfalls. Leaving our hostel we both wobbled most ungracefully on the cobbled road in a way that did not bode well. The slightly rusty bikes needed chains oiling as the gears constantly cracked, often changing of their own free will. Blakey`s brakes seemed to cause his bike (with no tire tread left) to veer to the right significantly, where as my brakes just had little effect at all. It was with much trepidation that we took to the dodgy, pothole ridden main road with the infamous Bolivian drivers (thankfully not many, but more often driving huge, wide heavy trucks) that would blare their horns the moment they passed- often making Blakey jump in that special way he always does! The first half hour of the journey was not at all fun as we struggled to control our dodgy bikes as the road rapidly descended. We stopped to wipe the sweat from our brow- not from hard work but from pant-wetting worry that we were going to swerve beneath the wheel s of one of these huge trucks! Thankfully, after discussing how less than ideal the journey was turning out to be we rounded a corner and the road started to run far more flat. The next hour was much more leisurely, allowing us to appreciate the pretty views of the dark green hills and condors flying overhead.
The last part of the route was not well displayed on the map. It looked as though we needed to follow a gravel road for ´Bella Vista´ and turn off for ´Las Cuevas´. We found the road and started to walk up the steep gravel track though it did not seem right. It wasn´t, but we enjoyed the ´Bella Vista´ mountain range ahead, the large pretty butterflies we passed and whirled away the time imagining our own Grand Design inspired by houses we had just cycled by and it`s multitude of features (winning lottery tickets will be required!)
When we had walked far enough to confirm it was not the right way (well over an hour now) we headed back and found the actual entrance to the waterfalls. By comparison the walk along the manicured path was a little tame and the resulting view slightly underwhelming, but we sat with our well earned chocolate bars and enjoyed the view before turning back to start the long journey uphill.
As we peddled up hard we soon began to worry that this was not as achievable as first hoped. Our bikes creaked as we pushed against the pedals with the gears still changing on their own accord with a large clank and sudden alter in tension- OK when it became loose but difficult to control when it felt like we could not push through the cycle. My chain had fallen off 3 times when I started to loose all hope of getting back- especially as I was so keen to call home and let parents know how soon we´d be back with them. We cycled for about an hour and stopped to get refreshments, then a little further still when we sat and enjoyed some more of our drinks along with a stunning view of a church backed by the hills. The church must have been blessed as soon after we were sent a saviour- our taxi driver from the previous day. For just 3 pounds he put his seats down, loaded the bikes and their riders and ferried us up what seemed like a very long and steep distance back to town. Still, Blakey got him to drop us a little further down the road and peddled 50 metres or so to the tour office for a dramatic brake scrunch and impression that we ha d not cheated at all. The owner was utterly shocked- most people bring them back in taxis!
So our last night in Samaipata involved phone calls home that were met with satisfying and touching excitement followed by what felt like a splash out meal in a lovely restaurant. We enjoyed delicious food at our candle lit table with a large jug of fresh lemonade and shared
an indulgent pudding all for 10 pounds. It felt great, to be so excited about going home and yet to have such a brilliant few days in this gorgeous town. We are so lucky to be having so much fun!
Monday, 1 March 2010
Cruz-ing on
Getting on board the Expresso Oriental, otherwise known as the Death Train, wasn´t the best sounding mode of transport to enter our next country, Bolivia. It´s not quite clear why it was named this, but from what we heard it´s from a time when passengers would prefer to sit on the roof to avoid links with the dodgy cargo they were smuggling. Back then the train would often be so full of "goods" that it would derail itself and a handful of the passengers would fly to their graves. Looking around at the amusing safety notices it seems that jumping from carriage to carriage via the windows as opposed to the doors isn´t allowed anymore.
If it wasn´t the train that was going to kill us (particularly as we sat obediently in our chairs, in a carriage) then perhaps it was the swarm of smiling mosquitoes trapped inside with us having a feeding frenzy going from one person to the next. After Laura had clapped with extreme precision over the majority of the buzzing bloodsuckers my next fear was that the Julio Iglesias DVD was going to stay on repeat for the entire journey like some form of horrific Chinese torture. After one hour´s worth of the most painfully cheesey budget music videos full of the middle aged crooner surrounded by swarms of attractive teenage girls bursting with emotion (obviously brought forth by the power of his music) it came to an abrupt end and we were subjected to what at first looked like a thrilling British movie. To our disappointment not only was it tragically dubbed but it was strangely drenched in reverb that gave the impression we were travelling through a never ending underground tunnel.
None of the problems mentioned so far were that bad really and we were actually finding it quite pleasurable to be part of such an experience- in fact we were more bemused than anything. The most irritating part of the journey was the rather obese (to put it politely) lady in front of me who reclined in her apparently broken chair to rest her weight nicely on my knee caps. She then took to swaying her hand behind her head which led to me getting touched up every so often inches away from my manhood! I´ll forgive her though, as she did have a very cute, cool baby boy who kept us entertained for a large part of the trip (which we disguised as keeping him amused!). He kept jumping over the seat and pretending to shoot us with his finger and everytime we fell back in our chairs with a look of pain he would laugh hysterically. He was quite the ladies man too as he bashfully looked up at Laura and blew her kisses.
For the rest of the journey the only other niggles were the jolts the train would make as it chugged over what felt like tracks made of rocks and every time we had to stop at a station a group of women would get on board and pace up and down the isle selling sticks of greasy meat that smelt like dog.
I certainly had one night´s sleep that I wouldn´t forget in a long while but the next morning as we pulled up in Santa Cruz station I was just pleased to have lived to tell the tale. Within a couple of minutes walk we had found a hotel charging a delghtful 3 pounds a person for a room that included ensuite and cable TV (including channels full if some very uncensored hardcore afternoon romping!)
Wandering around the streets the nearby neighbour came across a lot more run down and industrial than expected and at first we struggled to find a place to eat breakfast that looked even vaguely appealing. Most street vendors sold their precooked food along the road in plastic cabinets with the odd fly or two gracing the inside. With nothing else on offer we settled for a cafe with a lovely smiling lady stood behind a small collection of tasty looking cakes and fresh egg buns. Two of those egg buns with some chunky mugs of very satisfying cofee later and it had only cost us one pound for the lot! Bolivia might be the first country since Asia where we manage to save some money- or at least stick to our budget!
With not much else to see for now we returned to our hotel and checked our map to find out why there was a distinct lack of attractions around. It appeared we had booked in to accomodation a good taxi ride from the beauty of Santa Cruz´s central plaza. It really didn´t matter and we planned to head for the centre of town for dinner later in the afternoon but first we went for a rest. Laura indulged in a well over due luxurious wash (and, to tell the truth, shave- there are elements to travelling that neither of us find so glamorous!!) I chose to create an impressive lake of saliva on my pillow for the next few hours instead.
That evening we caught a taxi over to a very sophisticated looking part of Bolivia´s largest city. We were greeted with the sight of a pristine plaza overflowing with lush green trees that were shading the locals as they got their shoes shined. The dinner we ate in a cafe right in front of the beautiful cathedral was superb and the evening quickly crept in as we relaxed after our train wreck of a journey here. We decided to walk back and save the one pound taxi fare, having studied the route to get here. After a good hour of wandering round and getting completely lost we found our room and were asleep within minutes.
With everything so far being as cheap as chips we headed out to find out more about a tour to the Jesuit Missions. We waited for a lengthy half hour sat in an office as hot as a sauna to be quoted 160 each for a days trip to see a church. We weren´t sure when we thought it was in Bolivianos (the equivalent of 16 pounds) but had a very quick answer when we were told it was actually US dollars! Instead we left and headed for a park the Lonely Planet had described as being a nice place to relax and paddle boats around the lagoon. We arrived at what looked like a prison yard, filled with concrete, surrounded by a metal cage and swarming with police. It didn´t look like much fun.
Our last hope was to visit the local zoo- but our experience of "animal welfare" in some other underfunded countries meant we weren´t holding our breath. The chance of breathing in any oxygen at all would have been greatly appreciated as we took a micro to the zoo with a driver saving up for something special with the 10p he made from each passenger that boarded the little mini van- the amount of us squeezed in there may have been a world record attempt.
For one pound each we could enter what from outside looked like a little brickhouse that might have some parrots and a couple of snakes if we were lucky. Once we stepped through the gates though it was like entering a tardis- this was going to take us all day to get around. To our delight the zoo had been set up to showcase local South American wildlife and to educate about their welfare and endangered status. The animals looked in great condition wih a decent amount of space to jump, swing or slither around. One of our favourite parts was a truly massive cage that had so much vegetation inside that it disguised the fact we were actually in a zoo. Even better was the mixed collection of wildlife that were allowed to wander freely in our path, leading to some fantastic close encounters. Our first meeting was a fast paced tortoise who kept chasing us and snapping with his mouth when we got to close with our camera. We spotted all types of animals living amongst the greenery from colourful parrots, weird nosed ducks and twig legged flamingoes- though our greatest surprise came when we noticed the amount of wildlife outside the cage. Animals from the wild had chosen to come and live here too, so whilst we stood inside the cage a family of monkeys were swinging from the branches of a nearby tree outside and on to the the high roof of the cage, annoying the parrots. As if that wasn´t enough excitement our first sighting of a sloth crawling eerily above us had is in spasms of joy!
We tore ourselves away from this wonderous tropical area and the moment we stepped outside to walk to the next sight we came face to face with a sloth who was being taken away from a group of rheas it was bothering. Laura asked to take a photo and instead ended up holding this insanely weird creature that wouldn´t look out of place as a Star Wars extra. I too then had my hands under its hairy armpits whilst the sloth swayed its sharp claws around at a snail´s pace. It was a real highlight holding something that I only realised exsisted a few days ago (despite the number of times I have seen Ice Age!)
We spent hours continuing around one of the best zoos we have ever been too getting hyper over seeing anteaters, jaguars and all sorts of animals we hadn´t got to spot during our time in the Pantanal. Eventually we left and after another thoroughly enjoyable dinner bed called. It had been a great day in the end.
We were starting to feel that our adventures in Rio and on safari were catching up with us the next day and Laura had a bit of a cold, so we decided to have a day of doing nothing much other than calling home to wish Bryony a Happy Birthday, catch up on blogs and watch some crappy TV (cable offer English language channels!!)
After a well deserved rest we attempted to get on a bus to Samaipata. It took around two hours of being pointed in different directions to finally find our transport but soon we were on our way. We had the pleasure of sitting next to a gorgeous looking girl with sweety stained teeth and a "I love flowers" Tshirt. This young princess wanted attention and started a nice game of slapping our thighs and kicking our ankles which she found very funny indeed. As the journey progressed she moved from scratching, to pinching and finally to to biting whilst her mum paid not the slightest bit of attention. The naughty girl finally behaved herself after a teenage kid pointed towards his belt and whispered something threatening. Towards the end of the journey we realised that the lady sat near us wasn´t the girl´s mum- she was actually travelling with her grandmother who was sat at the front of the bus making her behaviour far more understandable though no more desirable. I was very grateful to escape her when we finally arrived in Samaipata.
If it wasn´t the train that was going to kill us (particularly as we sat obediently in our chairs, in a carriage) then perhaps it was the swarm of smiling mosquitoes trapped inside with us having a feeding frenzy going from one person to the next. After Laura had clapped with extreme precision over the majority of the buzzing bloodsuckers my next fear was that the Julio Iglesias DVD was going to stay on repeat for the entire journey like some form of horrific Chinese torture. After one hour´s worth of the most painfully cheesey budget music videos full of the middle aged crooner surrounded by swarms of attractive teenage girls bursting with emotion (obviously brought forth by the power of his music) it came to an abrupt end and we were subjected to what at first looked like a thrilling British movie. To our disappointment not only was it tragically dubbed but it was strangely drenched in reverb that gave the impression we were travelling through a never ending underground tunnel.
None of the problems mentioned so far were that bad really and we were actually finding it quite pleasurable to be part of such an experience- in fact we were more bemused than anything. The most irritating part of the journey was the rather obese (to put it politely) lady in front of me who reclined in her apparently broken chair to rest her weight nicely on my knee caps. She then took to swaying her hand behind her head which led to me getting touched up every so often inches away from my manhood! I´ll forgive her though, as she did have a very cute, cool baby boy who kept us entertained for a large part of the trip (which we disguised as keeping him amused!). He kept jumping over the seat and pretending to shoot us with his finger and everytime we fell back in our chairs with a look of pain he would laugh hysterically. He was quite the ladies man too as he bashfully looked up at Laura and blew her kisses.
For the rest of the journey the only other niggles were the jolts the train would make as it chugged over what felt like tracks made of rocks and every time we had to stop at a station a group of women would get on board and pace up and down the isle selling sticks of greasy meat that smelt like dog.
I certainly had one night´s sleep that I wouldn´t forget in a long while but the next morning as we pulled up in Santa Cruz station I was just pleased to have lived to tell the tale. Within a couple of minutes walk we had found a hotel charging a delghtful 3 pounds a person for a room that included ensuite and cable TV (including channels full if some very uncensored hardcore afternoon romping!)
Wandering around the streets the nearby neighbour came across a lot more run down and industrial than expected and at first we struggled to find a place to eat breakfast that looked even vaguely appealing. Most street vendors sold their precooked food along the road in plastic cabinets with the odd fly or two gracing the inside. With nothing else on offer we settled for a cafe with a lovely smiling lady stood behind a small collection of tasty looking cakes and fresh egg buns. Two of those egg buns with some chunky mugs of very satisfying cofee later and it had only cost us one pound for the lot! Bolivia might be the first country since Asia where we manage to save some money- or at least stick to our budget!
With not much else to see for now we returned to our hotel and checked our map to find out why there was a distinct lack of attractions around. It appeared we had booked in to accomodation a good taxi ride from the beauty of Santa Cruz´s central plaza. It really didn´t matter and we planned to head for the centre of town for dinner later in the afternoon but first we went for a rest. Laura indulged in a well over due luxurious wash (and, to tell the truth, shave- there are elements to travelling that neither of us find so glamorous!!) I chose to create an impressive lake of saliva on my pillow for the next few hours instead.
That evening we caught a taxi over to a very sophisticated looking part of Bolivia´s largest city. We were greeted with the sight of a pristine plaza overflowing with lush green trees that were shading the locals as they got their shoes shined. The dinner we ate in a cafe right in front of the beautiful cathedral was superb and the evening quickly crept in as we relaxed after our train wreck of a journey here. We decided to walk back and save the one pound taxi fare, having studied the route to get here. After a good hour of wandering round and getting completely lost we found our room and were asleep within minutes.
With everything so far being as cheap as chips we headed out to find out more about a tour to the Jesuit Missions. We waited for a lengthy half hour sat in an office as hot as a sauna to be quoted 160 each for a days trip to see a church. We weren´t sure when we thought it was in Bolivianos (the equivalent of 16 pounds) but had a very quick answer when we were told it was actually US dollars! Instead we left and headed for a park the Lonely Planet had described as being a nice place to relax and paddle boats around the lagoon. We arrived at what looked like a prison yard, filled with concrete, surrounded by a metal cage and swarming with police. It didn´t look like much fun.
Our last hope was to visit the local zoo- but our experience of "animal welfare" in some other underfunded countries meant we weren´t holding our breath. The chance of breathing in any oxygen at all would have been greatly appreciated as we took a micro to the zoo with a driver saving up for something special with the 10p he made from each passenger that boarded the little mini van- the amount of us squeezed in there may have been a world record attempt.
For one pound each we could enter what from outside looked like a little brickhouse that might have some parrots and a couple of snakes if we were lucky. Once we stepped through the gates though it was like entering a tardis- this was going to take us all day to get around. To our delight the zoo had been set up to showcase local South American wildlife and to educate about their welfare and endangered status. The animals looked in great condition wih a decent amount of space to jump, swing or slither around. One of our favourite parts was a truly massive cage that had so much vegetation inside that it disguised the fact we were actually in a zoo. Even better was the mixed collection of wildlife that were allowed to wander freely in our path, leading to some fantastic close encounters. Our first meeting was a fast paced tortoise who kept chasing us and snapping with his mouth when we got to close with our camera. We spotted all types of animals living amongst the greenery from colourful parrots, weird nosed ducks and twig legged flamingoes- though our greatest surprise came when we noticed the amount of wildlife outside the cage. Animals from the wild had chosen to come and live here too, so whilst we stood inside the cage a family of monkeys were swinging from the branches of a nearby tree outside and on to the the high roof of the cage, annoying the parrots. As if that wasn´t enough excitement our first sighting of a sloth crawling eerily above us had is in spasms of joy!
We tore ourselves away from this wonderous tropical area and the moment we stepped outside to walk to the next sight we came face to face with a sloth who was being taken away from a group of rheas it was bothering. Laura asked to take a photo and instead ended up holding this insanely weird creature that wouldn´t look out of place as a Star Wars extra. I too then had my hands under its hairy armpits whilst the sloth swayed its sharp claws around at a snail´s pace. It was a real highlight holding something that I only realised exsisted a few days ago (despite the number of times I have seen Ice Age!)
We spent hours continuing around one of the best zoos we have ever been too getting hyper over seeing anteaters, jaguars and all sorts of animals we hadn´t got to spot during our time in the Pantanal. Eventually we left and after another thoroughly enjoyable dinner bed called. It had been a great day in the end.
We were starting to feel that our adventures in Rio and on safari were catching up with us the next day and Laura had a bit of a cold, so we decided to have a day of doing nothing much other than calling home to wish Bryony a Happy Birthday, catch up on blogs and watch some crappy TV (cable offer English language channels!!)
After a well deserved rest we attempted to get on a bus to Samaipata. It took around two hours of being pointed in different directions to finally find our transport but soon we were on our way. We had the pleasure of sitting next to a gorgeous looking girl with sweety stained teeth and a "I love flowers" Tshirt. This young princess wanted attention and started a nice game of slapping our thighs and kicking our ankles which she found very funny indeed. As the journey progressed she moved from scratching, to pinching and finally to to biting whilst her mum paid not the slightest bit of attention. The naughty girl finally behaved herself after a teenage kid pointed towards his belt and whispered something threatening. Towards the end of the journey we realised that the lady sat near us wasn´t the girl´s mum- she was actually travelling with her grandmother who was sat at the front of the bus making her behaviour far more understandable though no more desirable. I was very grateful to escape her when we finally arrived in Samaipata.
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Into the Wilderness
We left Rio on a hot day, exhausted but satisified, and took our place on what promised to be one of our last long over land journeys to Campo Grande. 20 hours later we arrived at the brand new bus terminal and started to search for a company to guide our adventure into the wilderness of the Pantanal. The guidebook promised hundreds of options but the relocation to a new out of town station left us just one company running a four day trip to their lodge. Scraping our pennies together we took the all inclusive package and the deal was sweetened with free accommodation for the night and a transfer across town- lovely. The remainder of the afternoon was spent stocking up on memory cards in the rather drab town.
The following morning we got up early for our 10am pick up and after a quick breakfast I headed for a nearby ATM to withdraw the extra cash we owed, having hit our maximum withdrawal the previous day. For so early in the morning the sun was really strong and as soon as I arrived at the nearby machine it was clear I had further to go in the heat- it was out of order. Asking a local for directions- both of us speaking broken Spanish- I obviously misunderstood as I did not find another bank but walked in a large circle before realising how late it was getting and that Blakey would be worried. I returned empty handed and reassured him that I had not been mugged, thankfully to find another girl waiting for the same tour in our lobby who had been equally unsuccessful in her serach for cash. We resolved to ask our guide to drive us to an ATM en route.
By the time anyone came to pick us up we could have walked into the centre of town and back again, but even with the large group waiting myself and Ashling, the Irish girl that was also penniless, were sent into town on foot. We trekked from bank to bank, each one refusing our cards becoming increasingly worried that we were not going to get any money in this town and be stuck here for ever. The sixth place we visited allowed us to take money, over 45 minutes later. We hurried back to the waiting group, anticipating anxious boyfriends, only to find them chatting amicably and enjoying a free coffee whilst we wiped the sweat from our brows and boarded the mini bus with embarrassment. It was almost an hour and a half since the schedule leaving time.
But we were off. It was a long ride into the hot and humid wilderness along bumpy dusty roads that soon became bumpy muddy roads as we hit the flood plains. After hours of driving we were all turfed out into the blazing sun to wait for an opensided truck. That then took us on to a ferry across the high waters of the river- the old bridge being in a state of utter disrepair- and then bumped and threw us around as far as the road could go, to all be turfed out again. This time we waited in the mosquito infested heat of the late afternoon for a tracker to tow us in a big trailer through the deep flooded plains to the Pousada Santa Clara.
When we arrived the small farm was like an island in the middle of a huge swamp- dark, dank, still waters all around. As we entered we instantly knew it was worth the drive as hundreds of birds filled the lawns and trees and we were shown to our nice rooms in the small resort. The farm setting is a great excuse for this company to remain eco-friendly whislt encouraging local wildlife- there seemed to be plenty of bird feed for the chickens to share with masses of falcons, small bright green parrots and impressive red and blue macaws. There were also four domesticated wild pigs, a very tame wild deer (I think adopted by the lodge as there was no sign of its mother) and armadillos burrowing in the flower beds. Not only that, but we had spotted hundreds of caiman already- the little but mean looking alligators dotting the paths and waterways on the approach to the lodge.
After the long sweaty journey I soon headed back to the room for a shower and for some reason was really keen that Blakey should stay with me and wait- slightly unneccesary and clingy perhaps- but I wanted him to be there. He grabbed the camera and went straight back outside, leaving me to get on with it! I set the shower off to find a pathetic dribble due to the large crack in the shower head that was sending most of the water straight up the wall to a couple of exposed electrical wires. I tried to fix the head when something fell off the side and electrically charged water pored down the side giving me a nasty shock straight through my hand. I turned it of quickly and used the safer sink to refresh- informing a helpful and symapthetic member of staff when she came to tell me dinner was ready. Balkey returned to the room feeling a little guilty when he bumped into her and a handyman who explained his girlfriend had been shocked in the shower!
That evening we tucked into a satisfying Brazilian buffet and chatted to the Irish couple we had already met- Ashling and Owen- and a couple from London- Anna and Ashley. It seemed we had a really nice group to spend the next few days with in a really nice place, and tomorrow the fun would start.
We were up nice and early for our first adventure into the surrounding lands. This place really is cut off by water- still flood waters- and I could not help but remember my Dad´s advice: "Don´t go too close to the edge of the waters as that´s where the anacondas wait to strike." Well, this was advice we were going to have to ignore this morning. Our danger was lessened as we were to sit high on the backs of horses and trek through the plains- although for Blakey this could spell more disaster. Having never ridden a horse- his greatest contact coming from a viscious bite on the ear as a young boy, he wasn´t exactly confident. Add to this an allergy that has seen his eyes swell up and gallons of gunk form and you have someone that might not be suited to this! But he mounted that horse with a belly full of antihistamines and a chest full of courage and was actually quite good!
The beating hooves of the horses as we splashed our way through meant we didn´t see much wildlife but we all enjoyed the ride- even when the rain started to pour and we got rather wet- as it was warm in the air and our toes were trailing in the bath like heat of the flood waters the rain was a relief. The horses didn´t seem to mind it- they all seemed more concerned with pushing to the front of the pack. Blakey´s and mine had a definate attraction to one another- which was just as well as mine sent a few of the oher horses and their riders off on a sudden trot as he bit the competetion to get them out of the way! By the end the whole group seemed more relaxed and confident in the saddle with a few of the boys disappointed they didn´t get a good gallop out of them when the gate of the farm came in to view. However, we were all quite relieved to peel our wet clothes off and I walked like John Wayne back to our lodge- my legs were stuck in a bow position for a little while after!
As we waited for lunch the sun soon came out and burnt through all the clouds, leaving a beautiful clear blue sky. This afternoon we were going on a boat trip to spot wildlife along the shores of the river. Previous to coming here we had been told that the wet season was the best time to come as the water forces the wildlife into small pockets of land and it is easier to see when it is all condensed. Now we were being told that the dry season was better as the wildlife would congregate around the few waterholes which made predicting their movements easier and getting around to spot them more practical. Still, as we sailed along we saw many birds- particularly kingfishers, caiman and even a few monkeys hiding in the trees. The wildlife was not as abundant as I had initially expected but soon we sat back and just enjoyed the pretty scenery as the tall palm trees and beautiful exotic flowers were reflected in the mirror like surface of the water. My day was made when after weeks of hoping we spotted some toucans in the wild.
That evening we returned for another meal with the other couples and got chatting about weddings. Ashling and Owen had become engaged during their travels about the same time as us, but they had decided to get married in New Zealand just two months later. However, they had also been facing the stresses of wedding planning as they were returning to the UK in just a few days and were planning a reception/ welcome home party. That evening we swapped stories and tips and chatted about the perils of free bars (which inspired some brilliant anecdotes) Although Blakey snuck off with a headache early the rest of us headed to bed only when the lights were turned out and the guides had all turned in.
The next morning I was glad i hadn´t joined the others in polishing off all the wine the lodge possessed as we were out early with our guide again- this time fishing for pirhanas. First we had to get to the fishing spot which meant wading across the flooded plain. Shoes off and shorts on we pressed our feet into the squidgey slimey river bed and progressed quickly from ankle to knee to thigh high water- the same water we were about to fish for flesh eating pirhanas in! Once there we were each handed a bamboo rod with hooks primed with raw meat and dipped them into the river. Then we realised we had been fairly safe as we waited... and waited. A short time later and Ashley, a keen fisherman at home, had caught a cat fish and two fish related to pirhanas (though instead of pointed fangs their sharp teeth had flat edges). We waited a little longer when a sudden tug on my line let me know I´d caught one too! After that everyone managed to reel at least one in, with a few actual pirhanas amongst the catch. Blakey was amongst the last, but then caught three in a row. It had been quite a relaxing and rewarding morning by the time we headed back for lunch.
After our break we were to head out for the last of our activities. In some quite clever marketing we had been offered a jeep safari, jungle trekking and a night safari which were all to happen this afternoon (drive there, walk around, drive back in the dark!) Having crossed my toucan off the list I was looking for a closer view of the monkeys. Owen had his heart set on seeing a capybara- something we had been given the impression were more than abundant out here, we all liked the idea of seeing a jaguar and only wanted to see an anaconda if it had just eaten.
In the end we saw many more birds: kingfishers, toucans, macaws, falcons and others, another couple of armadillos, a herd of wild pigs, wild deer and hundreds of caiman. When we went for the walk we did get to see the monkeys up close as the sat lazily in the trees above us. It felt really special seeing them here- in Asia we had seen so many but they were so used to humans it was almost like going to a zoo, here they were definately wild animals and it was a privilege to see them so close. We also saw coatis and though no jaguar, the remains of something it hads polished off earlier. After that our walk saw us become far more involved in looking down. Our guide had given us the impression there might be more wading to do when in the afternoon he said it would be OK to wear shorts and flips flops. Instead we were stood in the middle of the jungle at dusk getting eaten alive by mosquitos. Worse than that were the vicious little red ants who repeatedly inflicted their painful burning stings. We were quite glad to get back in the van and out of harms way at the end of the walk!
Driving back it soon turned very dark and in the spot light from the jeep we became even more aware of how many hundreds of caiman swarm this area. Taking to the water to feed at night the light picked up dozens of bright orange eyes reflected in the beam quite eerily. However, still no capybara!
Our final morning at camp arrived and before we were due to head our separate ways there was one more activity planned. To let us relax and lean back they had organised tubing down the river- again the pirhana and caiman filled one! We each grabbed an inner tube and hopped on the boat to journey up stream before laying back in the tube and gently floating back to our starting point. Most of us managed this quite gracefully, though Owen managed to fall out of his tube leading to a rather chaotic scramble to redeem his place. We were soon back at camp to shower, pack and leave. We had enjoyed a great three days here and would have loved to have spent longer exploring his place but it was time to head on to our next country- Bolivia. Still, we had one final treat- as we drove out of the park there was a capybara at the side of the road- tick!
The following morning we got up early for our 10am pick up and after a quick breakfast I headed for a nearby ATM to withdraw the extra cash we owed, having hit our maximum withdrawal the previous day. For so early in the morning the sun was really strong and as soon as I arrived at the nearby machine it was clear I had further to go in the heat- it was out of order. Asking a local for directions- both of us speaking broken Spanish- I obviously misunderstood as I did not find another bank but walked in a large circle before realising how late it was getting and that Blakey would be worried. I returned empty handed and reassured him that I had not been mugged, thankfully to find another girl waiting for the same tour in our lobby who had been equally unsuccessful in her serach for cash. We resolved to ask our guide to drive us to an ATM en route.
By the time anyone came to pick us up we could have walked into the centre of town and back again, but even with the large group waiting myself and Ashling, the Irish girl that was also penniless, were sent into town on foot. We trekked from bank to bank, each one refusing our cards becoming increasingly worried that we were not going to get any money in this town and be stuck here for ever. The sixth place we visited allowed us to take money, over 45 minutes later. We hurried back to the waiting group, anticipating anxious boyfriends, only to find them chatting amicably and enjoying a free coffee whilst we wiped the sweat from our brows and boarded the mini bus with embarrassment. It was almost an hour and a half since the schedule leaving time.
But we were off. It was a long ride into the hot and humid wilderness along bumpy dusty roads that soon became bumpy muddy roads as we hit the flood plains. After hours of driving we were all turfed out into the blazing sun to wait for an opensided truck. That then took us on to a ferry across the high waters of the river- the old bridge being in a state of utter disrepair- and then bumped and threw us around as far as the road could go, to all be turfed out again. This time we waited in the mosquito infested heat of the late afternoon for a tracker to tow us in a big trailer through the deep flooded plains to the Pousada Santa Clara.
When we arrived the small farm was like an island in the middle of a huge swamp- dark, dank, still waters all around. As we entered we instantly knew it was worth the drive as hundreds of birds filled the lawns and trees and we were shown to our nice rooms in the small resort. The farm setting is a great excuse for this company to remain eco-friendly whislt encouraging local wildlife- there seemed to be plenty of bird feed for the chickens to share with masses of falcons, small bright green parrots and impressive red and blue macaws. There were also four domesticated wild pigs, a very tame wild deer (I think adopted by the lodge as there was no sign of its mother) and armadillos burrowing in the flower beds. Not only that, but we had spotted hundreds of caiman already- the little but mean looking alligators dotting the paths and waterways on the approach to the lodge.
After the long sweaty journey I soon headed back to the room for a shower and for some reason was really keen that Blakey should stay with me and wait- slightly unneccesary and clingy perhaps- but I wanted him to be there. He grabbed the camera and went straight back outside, leaving me to get on with it! I set the shower off to find a pathetic dribble due to the large crack in the shower head that was sending most of the water straight up the wall to a couple of exposed electrical wires. I tried to fix the head when something fell off the side and electrically charged water pored down the side giving me a nasty shock straight through my hand. I turned it of quickly and used the safer sink to refresh- informing a helpful and symapthetic member of staff when she came to tell me dinner was ready. Balkey returned to the room feeling a little guilty when he bumped into her and a handyman who explained his girlfriend had been shocked in the shower!
That evening we tucked into a satisfying Brazilian buffet and chatted to the Irish couple we had already met- Ashling and Owen- and a couple from London- Anna and Ashley. It seemed we had a really nice group to spend the next few days with in a really nice place, and tomorrow the fun would start.
We were up nice and early for our first adventure into the surrounding lands. This place really is cut off by water- still flood waters- and I could not help but remember my Dad´s advice: "Don´t go too close to the edge of the waters as that´s where the anacondas wait to strike." Well, this was advice we were going to have to ignore this morning. Our danger was lessened as we were to sit high on the backs of horses and trek through the plains- although for Blakey this could spell more disaster. Having never ridden a horse- his greatest contact coming from a viscious bite on the ear as a young boy, he wasn´t exactly confident. Add to this an allergy that has seen his eyes swell up and gallons of gunk form and you have someone that might not be suited to this! But he mounted that horse with a belly full of antihistamines and a chest full of courage and was actually quite good!
The beating hooves of the horses as we splashed our way through meant we didn´t see much wildlife but we all enjoyed the ride- even when the rain started to pour and we got rather wet- as it was warm in the air and our toes were trailing in the bath like heat of the flood waters the rain was a relief. The horses didn´t seem to mind it- they all seemed more concerned with pushing to the front of the pack. Blakey´s and mine had a definate attraction to one another- which was just as well as mine sent a few of the oher horses and their riders off on a sudden trot as he bit the competetion to get them out of the way! By the end the whole group seemed more relaxed and confident in the saddle with a few of the boys disappointed they didn´t get a good gallop out of them when the gate of the farm came in to view. However, we were all quite relieved to peel our wet clothes off and I walked like John Wayne back to our lodge- my legs were stuck in a bow position for a little while after!
As we waited for lunch the sun soon came out and burnt through all the clouds, leaving a beautiful clear blue sky. This afternoon we were going on a boat trip to spot wildlife along the shores of the river. Previous to coming here we had been told that the wet season was the best time to come as the water forces the wildlife into small pockets of land and it is easier to see when it is all condensed. Now we were being told that the dry season was better as the wildlife would congregate around the few waterholes which made predicting their movements easier and getting around to spot them more practical. Still, as we sailed along we saw many birds- particularly kingfishers, caiman and even a few monkeys hiding in the trees. The wildlife was not as abundant as I had initially expected but soon we sat back and just enjoyed the pretty scenery as the tall palm trees and beautiful exotic flowers were reflected in the mirror like surface of the water. My day was made when after weeks of hoping we spotted some toucans in the wild.
That evening we returned for another meal with the other couples and got chatting about weddings. Ashling and Owen had become engaged during their travels about the same time as us, but they had decided to get married in New Zealand just two months later. However, they had also been facing the stresses of wedding planning as they were returning to the UK in just a few days and were planning a reception/ welcome home party. That evening we swapped stories and tips and chatted about the perils of free bars (which inspired some brilliant anecdotes) Although Blakey snuck off with a headache early the rest of us headed to bed only when the lights were turned out and the guides had all turned in.
The next morning I was glad i hadn´t joined the others in polishing off all the wine the lodge possessed as we were out early with our guide again- this time fishing for pirhanas. First we had to get to the fishing spot which meant wading across the flooded plain. Shoes off and shorts on we pressed our feet into the squidgey slimey river bed and progressed quickly from ankle to knee to thigh high water- the same water we were about to fish for flesh eating pirhanas in! Once there we were each handed a bamboo rod with hooks primed with raw meat and dipped them into the river. Then we realised we had been fairly safe as we waited... and waited. A short time later and Ashley, a keen fisherman at home, had caught a cat fish and two fish related to pirhanas (though instead of pointed fangs their sharp teeth had flat edges). We waited a little longer when a sudden tug on my line let me know I´d caught one too! After that everyone managed to reel at least one in, with a few actual pirhanas amongst the catch. Blakey was amongst the last, but then caught three in a row. It had been quite a relaxing and rewarding morning by the time we headed back for lunch.
After our break we were to head out for the last of our activities. In some quite clever marketing we had been offered a jeep safari, jungle trekking and a night safari which were all to happen this afternoon (drive there, walk around, drive back in the dark!) Having crossed my toucan off the list I was looking for a closer view of the monkeys. Owen had his heart set on seeing a capybara- something we had been given the impression were more than abundant out here, we all liked the idea of seeing a jaguar and only wanted to see an anaconda if it had just eaten.
In the end we saw many more birds: kingfishers, toucans, macaws, falcons and others, another couple of armadillos, a herd of wild pigs, wild deer and hundreds of caiman. When we went for the walk we did get to see the monkeys up close as the sat lazily in the trees above us. It felt really special seeing them here- in Asia we had seen so many but they were so used to humans it was almost like going to a zoo, here they were definately wild animals and it was a privilege to see them so close. We also saw coatis and though no jaguar, the remains of something it hads polished off earlier. After that our walk saw us become far more involved in looking down. Our guide had given us the impression there might be more wading to do when in the afternoon he said it would be OK to wear shorts and flips flops. Instead we were stood in the middle of the jungle at dusk getting eaten alive by mosquitos. Worse than that were the vicious little red ants who repeatedly inflicted their painful burning stings. We were quite glad to get back in the van and out of harms way at the end of the walk!
Driving back it soon turned very dark and in the spot light from the jeep we became even more aware of how many hundreds of caiman swarm this area. Taking to the water to feed at night the light picked up dozens of bright orange eyes reflected in the beam quite eerily. However, still no capybara!
Our final morning at camp arrived and before we were due to head our separate ways there was one more activity planned. To let us relax and lean back they had organised tubing down the river- again the pirhana and caiman filled one! We each grabbed an inner tube and hopped on the boat to journey up stream before laying back in the tube and gently floating back to our starting point. Most of us managed this quite gracefully, though Owen managed to fall out of his tube leading to a rather chaotic scramble to redeem his place. We were soon back at camp to shower, pack and leave. We had enjoyed a great three days here and would have loved to have spent longer exploring his place but it was time to head on to our next country- Bolivia. Still, we had one final treat- as we drove out of the park there was a capybara at the side of the road- tick!
Thursday, 18 February 2010
Carnival!
After almost 6 months of travelling we reached one of the most highly anticipated pin points of our entire journey. This one landmark has had quite a build up to it not only full of giddy excitement but also a great deal of stress and worry particularly on my parents behalf who have had their stomach`s tied in knots with fear that we will be raped, shot at or kidnapped for a large ransom of money. With that placed in my mind along with a couple of stories from other travellers I was certainly feeling mixed with emotions as we stepped out onto the trashed grafiitied streets of Santa Teresa.
Things certainly got off to a fantastic start in Rio though as we checked into our hotel where we would spend the next 5 days. We had expected our pre booked packaged accomodation to be basic at best but we ended up in a luxurious twin room with en-suite, cable TV, fridge, air-con and free breakfast and Internet. The latter being our next brilliant news of the day as Miss Brainiac received an email confirming her place of the Masters course! After a week of nail biting we really wanted to celebrate but our 22 hour ride here had left us wanting to snuggle in bed and save the drinking for the next 3 nights.
Well that had been the plan anyway as halfway through the evening there was a knock at the door. I was greeted by a lively New Zealand lass with her face painted like a cat telling me to join her for some punch and party games. She was called Vicky and her enthusiastic nature led me to say yes before I had time to think about it or ask Laura who had just finished in the shower and was nowhere near ready to go out. Vicky thern pounced off and knocked on everyone elses door on our floor. Trying to decide if I wanted to drink some free alcohol or finish watching the end of ´Marley and Me´ was an easy decision so leaving Laura to make herself look even more pretty than she already is I wondered down the corridor to see if the people at this party had any potential for a cracking night.
There was only 3 others in Vicky´s room, one being her twin brother Tom and 2 other New Zealand girls. Literally a minute later and I had a cup of vodka fuelled punch in one hand, a mini acoustic guitar in the other, a checkered trilby hat on my head and I was complete with drunkeredly drawn whiskers. One drink in and Tom and I were nominated to recruite more cats for the evening from the rest of the unknocked doors. You can imagine the quick responce we got from the other guests in the hotel. Most peolple looked utterly terrified while others thought by asking them to a party meant we wanted to sleep with them with one woman pointing to the room next to hers saying that it was full of young girls that would be up for it. Although we thought we had miserably failed our challenge, over the next hour flocks of curious people started to flood into the room with each person getting suitably painted up as soon as they sat down.
Laura was with me now and the hardcore drinking games began, none of which we had heard of before like the ridiculous ´vegetable, vegetable´ game which I did hilariously bad at leading to me downing a considerable amount more than the other players. A few dribbling hours later we hit the town feeling more than safe in our extensive crowd and the locals seemed to welcome our over jolly carnival spirit. We ended up in a street party at a place called the Arches where a mass amount of people were dancing Samba moves and celebrating in a simular fashion. It didn´t take long to notice how confident and self assured the Brazilian men are here as whether the woman in question did or didn´t have a partner they were going to try it on whatever! This normally involved introducing themselves with a grope, whistle or strange animal call. That didn´t go down so well with most people in our group but we all knew how offended the men can get if a woman rejects them, especially in public so the only option was to ignore them. Within a minute most got the message although it took a hard punch in the arm from one girl to get a sleazy man away who had decided to touch her rear cheeks. At 3am our energy had been drowned in vodka and after a disapointing mission trying to find a kebab and ending up with a healthy corn-on-the-cob instead, we retired to bed. It had been a brilliantly spontaneous and overly enjoyable first day in Rio.
The morning after wasn´t quite as enjoyable and our beastly heads wouldn´t move an inch not even for the free buffet breakfast downstairs. It appeared our time here would be spent hibernating during the day and going obsurdly wild at night. The only thing we manageduntil about 5pm was one Audrey Hepburn film and a poor 5 minute attempt outside to get some food before returning to bed again.
However, the evening was far more successful as despite a slightly intimidating bus ride with some drunk locals singing and shouting questions at us we were driven to the stunning Ipanema beach. We arrived just as the sun was setting beautifully across the surf perfect waves and shortbread like sand. There was a huge crowd streched along the coastline all going nuts around open top buses full of people dancing to PA`s pumping Samba beats as loud as possible.
We still felt somewhat delicate so we went for some food to revive our senses. Every restaurant was packed out with tables tightly squeezed together for the massive amount of people dining inside and the night club like queues of eager mouths waiting outside. The meal was well worth it but didn´t give us enough power to stop falling asleep the moment we got back to our hotel.
With hangovers now slept off we woke up on Valentines Day early enought to catch breakfast and felt motivated to have a romantic stroll around the spectacular sites in Rio. We took a minibus up to the summit of Corcovado to see the iconic statue of Christ the Redeemer and it`s incredible outlook over the city. Rio really does look magnificent from a distance with it`s postcard blue skies, lush green mountains and white sandy beaches. It has so much potential to be completely amazing but at street level it´s hanging on the edge of poverty. The homeless are dotted around each and every street corner lying across pavements and sleeping in awful conditions amongst the piles of garbage scattered infront of the once beautiful coloniual buildings that now have been plastered in ugly graffiti and stained black from traffic pollution. If the people here put as much effort into cleaning up and recreating Rio as they do for the carnival each year then this place would truly shine.
We spent the afternoon hunting through the local stalls in Santa Teresa for a vaguely impressive fancy dress costume ready for tomorrow night´s main event in the Sambadrome. We had more luck picking up the different parts of last night´s parade left in the trash along the road. Back at the hotel we assembled the pieces together hoping that a bit of cellotape here and there would make the ideal attire. But having a golden elephant headpiece, a shiny mermaid like dress and a white sheet nabbed off of the hotel bed wrapped around me like a roman´s robe didn´t quite have the overall look we were hoping for. We went out for dinner to think about it some more. One extra large pizza and a street party later and we had found some cheap but effective face masks along with a black curly superwoman esk wig for Laura and a vibrant mohawk for myself.
All dressed up we were oversome with the need to hook up with our hotel floor mates and rag the night away. Soon enough we were back in Tom and Vicky`s room with a whole host of new characters and ludicrous new drinking games. After we had all finished the last drop of alcohol from the ever present big green bucket in the middle of the room we decided to stumble up to the exit of the Sambadrome where we´d heard that the performers involved were simply dropping entire costumes as soon as they had finished their part in the parade.
The next 5 hours were some of the most enjoyable moments of not only this trip but the last 30 years of my life. There were gloriously decorated outfits absolutely everywhere ranging from silver tenticled space suits, 10 feet wide angel wings to human sized spider legs. I found an Egyptian Warrior looking attire complete with twisting green snakes and golden spikes that extended from my shoulders like another set of arms. Soon all of us had something mindblowingly flash on but it was Laura who completely stole the show. She had found a stunning white wedding dress that was as wide as she is tall. We all looked so good that the security thought we were part of the actual parade despite our white gringo faces and we were let into the main walkway of the Sambadrome infront of an audience of around 30,000 people. Then suddenly we were face to face with a camera crew who were filming us on live TV and on the big arena screens. The energy here was electrifying and we were all feeding off of it. The rest of the night was quite a haze of total brilliance and around 4.30am we were back in the hotel lobby being greeted by a room full of staff and guests looking somewhat amused and bewildered.
The following day was going to be all about the evening again which was lucky considering the jittery state I was cocoon`d in. The time to celebrate came around quickly but by then we were raring to go out if tonight was going to be even half as corking as the previous night. Laura and I headed out by ourselves as everyone else was taking ages getting ready and we didn´t want to miss a second of this.
When we got to the main entrance we were clapped upon and everyone standing there jumped next to us for a photo, it looked as if no one else had made much of an effort. Our costumes were so large that we had to temporarily take them off to actually fit through the gates and when we reached our sector that we would view the parade from it became clear why other members of the crowd hadn´t dressed up. The stands were so rammed that trying to slip past anyone with more than a bottle of beer was going to be a problem and Laura`s dress took up the size of about 6 people. Just as we were about to ditch our outfits not only did we find a prime view point but we were rampaged again by a endless supply of the audience wanting their picture taken with us. I mean literally hundreds upon hundreds excitedly hugged up to us like we were their favourite celebrity. Laura obviously got crowd fulls more attention especially from the men who chatted her up with some horrific one liners and it was all too much listening to the tourists who attempted to try it on speaking Spanish not having a clue that she was a fellow brit to which she totally played along with to get rid of them.
The carnival parade was the biggest, most over-the-top and colourful sight we`ve ever witnessed. The floats were unbelievable in size and creative design, each full of hundreds of dancers twirling and performing wild acrobatics. Behind each one was a thunderous percussion of drummers making the arena shake and bounce to the rhythms. Tonight there were around 6 schools each performing for an hour trying to whirl the crowd with amazement and all very easily doing so. I think we watched about 4 proccessions before leaving at 4.30am rather shattered. We walked back to our hotel, the air still buzzing, and after taking our costumes off snuggled down in bed to watch the last parade live on TV. what a night!
Aftre so much excitement we couldn´t bring overselves to check out after two hours sleep so we extended our stay by one more night. After a day of taking it easy we headed to the final part of Rio we planned to explore and headed for Copacabana. Once again Latin America demonstrated its immense stamina for parties as the bus we took was full of revellers. In particular there was a group of girls dressed as brides and "wedding" couples on board. This started with many locals- most of whom seemed to be strangers to one another before the girls placed the plastic rngs on there fingers- and then turned to my actual future wife and me. So we had our first wedding ceremony conducted in Portugese on a bus!
When we got off it was to enjoy a relaxing meal on the shores of the beach listening to the waves gently hit the shore. We had thoroughly enjoyed our time in Rio and were so pleased to have such a wonderful tale to tell of this city that came with so many forewarnings. If it wasn´t so expensive maybe we would have stayed longer!
Things certainly got off to a fantastic start in Rio though as we checked into our hotel where we would spend the next 5 days. We had expected our pre booked packaged accomodation to be basic at best but we ended up in a luxurious twin room with en-suite, cable TV, fridge, air-con and free breakfast and Internet. The latter being our next brilliant news of the day as Miss Brainiac received an email confirming her place of the Masters course! After a week of nail biting we really wanted to celebrate but our 22 hour ride here had left us wanting to snuggle in bed and save the drinking for the next 3 nights.
Well that had been the plan anyway as halfway through the evening there was a knock at the door. I was greeted by a lively New Zealand lass with her face painted like a cat telling me to join her for some punch and party games. She was called Vicky and her enthusiastic nature led me to say yes before I had time to think about it or ask Laura who had just finished in the shower and was nowhere near ready to go out. Vicky thern pounced off and knocked on everyone elses door on our floor. Trying to decide if I wanted to drink some free alcohol or finish watching the end of ´Marley and Me´ was an easy decision so leaving Laura to make herself look even more pretty than she already is I wondered down the corridor to see if the people at this party had any potential for a cracking night.
There was only 3 others in Vicky´s room, one being her twin brother Tom and 2 other New Zealand girls. Literally a minute later and I had a cup of vodka fuelled punch in one hand, a mini acoustic guitar in the other, a checkered trilby hat on my head and I was complete with drunkeredly drawn whiskers. One drink in and Tom and I were nominated to recruite more cats for the evening from the rest of the unknocked doors. You can imagine the quick responce we got from the other guests in the hotel. Most peolple looked utterly terrified while others thought by asking them to a party meant we wanted to sleep with them with one woman pointing to the room next to hers saying that it was full of young girls that would be up for it. Although we thought we had miserably failed our challenge, over the next hour flocks of curious people started to flood into the room with each person getting suitably painted up as soon as they sat down.
Laura was with me now and the hardcore drinking games began, none of which we had heard of before like the ridiculous ´vegetable, vegetable´ game which I did hilariously bad at leading to me downing a considerable amount more than the other players. A few dribbling hours later we hit the town feeling more than safe in our extensive crowd and the locals seemed to welcome our over jolly carnival spirit. We ended up in a street party at a place called the Arches where a mass amount of people were dancing Samba moves and celebrating in a simular fashion. It didn´t take long to notice how confident and self assured the Brazilian men are here as whether the woman in question did or didn´t have a partner they were going to try it on whatever! This normally involved introducing themselves with a grope, whistle or strange animal call. That didn´t go down so well with most people in our group but we all knew how offended the men can get if a woman rejects them, especially in public so the only option was to ignore them. Within a minute most got the message although it took a hard punch in the arm from one girl to get a sleazy man away who had decided to touch her rear cheeks. At 3am our energy had been drowned in vodka and after a disapointing mission trying to find a kebab and ending up with a healthy corn-on-the-cob instead, we retired to bed. It had been a brilliantly spontaneous and overly enjoyable first day in Rio.
The morning after wasn´t quite as enjoyable and our beastly heads wouldn´t move an inch not even for the free buffet breakfast downstairs. It appeared our time here would be spent hibernating during the day and going obsurdly wild at night. The only thing we manageduntil about 5pm was one Audrey Hepburn film and a poor 5 minute attempt outside to get some food before returning to bed again.
However, the evening was far more successful as despite a slightly intimidating bus ride with some drunk locals singing and shouting questions at us we were driven to the stunning Ipanema beach. We arrived just as the sun was setting beautifully across the surf perfect waves and shortbread like sand. There was a huge crowd streched along the coastline all going nuts around open top buses full of people dancing to PA`s pumping Samba beats as loud as possible.
We still felt somewhat delicate so we went for some food to revive our senses. Every restaurant was packed out with tables tightly squeezed together for the massive amount of people dining inside and the night club like queues of eager mouths waiting outside. The meal was well worth it but didn´t give us enough power to stop falling asleep the moment we got back to our hotel.
With hangovers now slept off we woke up on Valentines Day early enought to catch breakfast and felt motivated to have a romantic stroll around the spectacular sites in Rio. We took a minibus up to the summit of Corcovado to see the iconic statue of Christ the Redeemer and it`s incredible outlook over the city. Rio really does look magnificent from a distance with it`s postcard blue skies, lush green mountains and white sandy beaches. It has so much potential to be completely amazing but at street level it´s hanging on the edge of poverty. The homeless are dotted around each and every street corner lying across pavements and sleeping in awful conditions amongst the piles of garbage scattered infront of the once beautiful coloniual buildings that now have been plastered in ugly graffiti and stained black from traffic pollution. If the people here put as much effort into cleaning up and recreating Rio as they do for the carnival each year then this place would truly shine.
We spent the afternoon hunting through the local stalls in Santa Teresa for a vaguely impressive fancy dress costume ready for tomorrow night´s main event in the Sambadrome. We had more luck picking up the different parts of last night´s parade left in the trash along the road. Back at the hotel we assembled the pieces together hoping that a bit of cellotape here and there would make the ideal attire. But having a golden elephant headpiece, a shiny mermaid like dress and a white sheet nabbed off of the hotel bed wrapped around me like a roman´s robe didn´t quite have the overall look we were hoping for. We went out for dinner to think about it some more. One extra large pizza and a street party later and we had found some cheap but effective face masks along with a black curly superwoman esk wig for Laura and a vibrant mohawk for myself.
All dressed up we were oversome with the need to hook up with our hotel floor mates and rag the night away. Soon enough we were back in Tom and Vicky`s room with a whole host of new characters and ludicrous new drinking games. After we had all finished the last drop of alcohol from the ever present big green bucket in the middle of the room we decided to stumble up to the exit of the Sambadrome where we´d heard that the performers involved were simply dropping entire costumes as soon as they had finished their part in the parade.
The next 5 hours were some of the most enjoyable moments of not only this trip but the last 30 years of my life. There were gloriously decorated outfits absolutely everywhere ranging from silver tenticled space suits, 10 feet wide angel wings to human sized spider legs. I found an Egyptian Warrior looking attire complete with twisting green snakes and golden spikes that extended from my shoulders like another set of arms. Soon all of us had something mindblowingly flash on but it was Laura who completely stole the show. She had found a stunning white wedding dress that was as wide as she is tall. We all looked so good that the security thought we were part of the actual parade despite our white gringo faces and we were let into the main walkway of the Sambadrome infront of an audience of around 30,000 people. Then suddenly we were face to face with a camera crew who were filming us on live TV and on the big arena screens. The energy here was electrifying and we were all feeding off of it. The rest of the night was quite a haze of total brilliance and around 4.30am we were back in the hotel lobby being greeted by a room full of staff and guests looking somewhat amused and bewildered.
The following day was going to be all about the evening again which was lucky considering the jittery state I was cocoon`d in. The time to celebrate came around quickly but by then we were raring to go out if tonight was going to be even half as corking as the previous night. Laura and I headed out by ourselves as everyone else was taking ages getting ready and we didn´t want to miss a second of this.
When we got to the main entrance we were clapped upon and everyone standing there jumped next to us for a photo, it looked as if no one else had made much of an effort. Our costumes were so large that we had to temporarily take them off to actually fit through the gates and when we reached our sector that we would view the parade from it became clear why other members of the crowd hadn´t dressed up. The stands were so rammed that trying to slip past anyone with more than a bottle of beer was going to be a problem and Laura`s dress took up the size of about 6 people. Just as we were about to ditch our outfits not only did we find a prime view point but we were rampaged again by a endless supply of the audience wanting their picture taken with us. I mean literally hundreds upon hundreds excitedly hugged up to us like we were their favourite celebrity. Laura obviously got crowd fulls more attention especially from the men who chatted her up with some horrific one liners and it was all too much listening to the tourists who attempted to try it on speaking Spanish not having a clue that she was a fellow brit to which she totally played along with to get rid of them.
The carnival parade was the biggest, most over-the-top and colourful sight we`ve ever witnessed. The floats were unbelievable in size and creative design, each full of hundreds of dancers twirling and performing wild acrobatics. Behind each one was a thunderous percussion of drummers making the arena shake and bounce to the rhythms. Tonight there were around 6 schools each performing for an hour trying to whirl the crowd with amazement and all very easily doing so. I think we watched about 4 proccessions before leaving at 4.30am rather shattered. We walked back to our hotel, the air still buzzing, and after taking our costumes off snuggled down in bed to watch the last parade live on TV. what a night!
Aftre so much excitement we couldn´t bring overselves to check out after two hours sleep so we extended our stay by one more night. After a day of taking it easy we headed to the final part of Rio we planned to explore and headed for Copacabana. Once again Latin America demonstrated its immense stamina for parties as the bus we took was full of revellers. In particular there was a group of girls dressed as brides and "wedding" couples on board. This started with many locals- most of whom seemed to be strangers to one another before the girls placed the plastic rngs on there fingers- and then turned to my actual future wife and me. So we had our first wedding ceremony conducted in Portugese on a bus!
When we got off it was to enjoy a relaxing meal on the shores of the beach listening to the waves gently hit the shore. We had thoroughly enjoyed our time in Rio and were so pleased to have such a wonderful tale to tell of this city that came with so many forewarnings. If it wasn´t so expensive maybe we would have stayed longer!
Friday, 12 February 2010
Gargantua del Diablo
We have been getting used to bus rides recently, but the journey to Iguazu was quite unique. We had splashed out for a ´cama´ seat- slightly more comfortable and reclines further for just a few pounds more and we were greeted with an extremely friendly service. Offered sweets, whiskey, fed up on warm meals and given a champagne night cap the trip should have beeen utter luxury. The one draw back was the misbehaving little brat sat behind us with his ineffectual mother and grandmother. He played oh-so-annoying games consoles with repetitive bleeps and tunes which any other parents would have muted for their own sanity, as if the embarrassment of making a whole coach load of people deal with the irritation was not enough. Whilst playing he enjoyed kicking the backs of our chairs- the little darling- whilst his guardians turned thir eyes from what he was doing.
Night fell and after some excellent films, food and drinks we tested the extreme recline of our classy bus. Leaning blissfully far back Blakey was soon snoozing quietly. On the otherhand I was kept up as every twenty minutes my chair would slide back to its upright position. Losing patience and utterly exhausted I continued to correct the chair and attempt to join my dearest in peaceful slumber. Eventually I wore out, though was not nearly as satisfied with the amount of sleep I had managed. When the lights came on the following morning and our breakfast was served I complained to Blakey of the awful chair. From his laid back position he turned to see that the mother had placed the little darling on the seat behind us and she was sat at his feet, pushing my chair up to try and make space for herself. I did not miss them when they got off and I reclined to full benefit until my attention was caught by some cheesy wedding based rom-com.
Every time we disembark a bus recently there is a marked difference in temperature and this time was no exception. Not only that, but the red mud and huge decorative plants growing all around gave this town a truly tropical feel. Leaving the station a smartly dressed petite lady offered us lodgings and walked us back to her home where we were given a large room with a patio, fan and bamboo door. Even that felt tropical.
Desperate to have information on my course and to type up some long overdue blogs we took the opportunity to find and internet cafe and stare bleary eyed at the screen for the afternoon. After a few minutes into checking (too early for news on the course yet) all the power cut off. Not only that, but after being told how unusually hot it has been here for days the weather that has been following us struck and a huge tropical rainstorm ensued- though it was far more satisifying to watch than the gloomy drizzle of Patagonia! We rushed to a nearby shop to grab some supplies before heading back to cook up some long over due food- pasta and sauce again- yum!
Our ever helpful hostess had given us all the information we needed to visit the world famous Iguazu waterfalls the following morning, but we couldn´t bring ourselves to set an alarm. After a relaxed get up we set out in the once again blazing sun to see the falls- though not befoe an internet check- especially as I was told this was the day I would receive an answer. However, after yesterday´s power failure the internet cafe we had been using was not working. We searched and searched before finding an alternative. Typically I had nothing- but at least I knew and could get on with enjoying my day now.
Entering Iguazu the scale of the park was instantly aparent from the rows of coaches parked outside the huge entrance foyer. We purchased our tickets which included a free train ride to the tracks- though a very theme-parkesque carriage through the beautiful foliage that was swarming with butterflies. We then joined the masses crossing metres and metres of boardwalks over the waterways towards the "devil´s throat". As people passed on the way back it seemed most had enjoyed a boat ride too as they were soaking wet.
That was our theory until we reached the end of the track pearching over the precipe where there was the most deafening, almighty cascade of water I have ever seen. There were hordes of people but this place was big enough for us all. An ampitheatre like drop from the massive waterplain above churned with the sheer violence and weight of what must be tonnes of water each second falling over the edge. It was so massive that the mist created by the waterfall was propelled so far into the air that the boardwalk at its safe distance was utterly drenched- that was what had happened to the returning tourists! We tried to snap through the droplets of water and just indulged in the energy of the whole scene. It bought to mind the glacier a couple of weeks back as nature left us once again in awe.
After an introduction to the magnificence of this place we spent the rest of the day wandering around the many tracks offering vantage points from above and below the falls. It was a beautiful day topped off at the end by our encounter with cute little creatures with monkey like bodies and stripey tails but long snuffly noses as they foraged for food. By the time we headed back that evening we were exhausted and satisfied.
Next day we had mostly to ourselves- after the obligatory internet check of course. Once again this involved quite a search though when eventually seated at a functional desktop I was rewarded with an email at last. However, the pissy thing was to tell me that they would not disclose my results until they had my references- argh!! I quickly emailed my old tutors to chase this up, hoping a quick response would put me out of my misery as soon as possible- every time it came to mind it made my tummy do a little flip.
After that we headed back to plan our day. We aimed to wander to a nearby garden though we somehow missed it and so took a massive stroll around town in the hot hot sun. We returned for a lazy aftrenoon and whilst Blakey snoozed I headed to get some long overdue laundry sorted (though once again to no avail) and to phone and wish my Mum a Happy Birthday- plus yet another internet check of course. Nada. But a good gossip home kept me satisfied.
The afternoon was topped off with a slightly ill timed wander to the Tres Frontera- a point where two rivers meet and we could see the banks of Paraguay and our next destination, Brazil. A wrong turn meant we got ther just after sunset (which is happening so much earlier now) but it was a pleasant stroll none the less. As we headed back our sense of adventure grew- the power supply had gone out again and so we cautiously stumbled through the cobbled streets in the pitch black and returned to our candle lit hostel, looking quite romantic in the flicker of the dim flames.
The next morning saw us repack once again and after dropping our bags off at the bus station head off on the most epic interent search yet. The previous evenings power cut had put every single internet cafe in the town out of action, but I couldn´t bear the thought of still not knowing the result for the duration of Rio carnival- it was time to stop my tummy from flipping! After a hour of wandering from place to place we eventually found a small hostel that allowed us to access their computer. No joy again. Fingers crossed carnival would keep me too busy to think about it!!
Night fell and after some excellent films, food and drinks we tested the extreme recline of our classy bus. Leaning blissfully far back Blakey was soon snoozing quietly. On the otherhand I was kept up as every twenty minutes my chair would slide back to its upright position. Losing patience and utterly exhausted I continued to correct the chair and attempt to join my dearest in peaceful slumber. Eventually I wore out, though was not nearly as satisfied with the amount of sleep I had managed. When the lights came on the following morning and our breakfast was served I complained to Blakey of the awful chair. From his laid back position he turned to see that the mother had placed the little darling on the seat behind us and she was sat at his feet, pushing my chair up to try and make space for herself. I did not miss them when they got off and I reclined to full benefit until my attention was caught by some cheesy wedding based rom-com.
Every time we disembark a bus recently there is a marked difference in temperature and this time was no exception. Not only that, but the red mud and huge decorative plants growing all around gave this town a truly tropical feel. Leaving the station a smartly dressed petite lady offered us lodgings and walked us back to her home where we were given a large room with a patio, fan and bamboo door. Even that felt tropical.
Desperate to have information on my course and to type up some long overdue blogs we took the opportunity to find and internet cafe and stare bleary eyed at the screen for the afternoon. After a few minutes into checking (too early for news on the course yet) all the power cut off. Not only that, but after being told how unusually hot it has been here for days the weather that has been following us struck and a huge tropical rainstorm ensued- though it was far more satisifying to watch than the gloomy drizzle of Patagonia! We rushed to a nearby shop to grab some supplies before heading back to cook up some long over due food- pasta and sauce again- yum!
Our ever helpful hostess had given us all the information we needed to visit the world famous Iguazu waterfalls the following morning, but we couldn´t bring ourselves to set an alarm. After a relaxed get up we set out in the once again blazing sun to see the falls- though not befoe an internet check- especially as I was told this was the day I would receive an answer. However, after yesterday´s power failure the internet cafe we had been using was not working. We searched and searched before finding an alternative. Typically I had nothing- but at least I knew and could get on with enjoying my day now.
Entering Iguazu the scale of the park was instantly aparent from the rows of coaches parked outside the huge entrance foyer. We purchased our tickets which included a free train ride to the tracks- though a very theme-parkesque carriage through the beautiful foliage that was swarming with butterflies. We then joined the masses crossing metres and metres of boardwalks over the waterways towards the "devil´s throat". As people passed on the way back it seemed most had enjoyed a boat ride too as they were soaking wet.
That was our theory until we reached the end of the track pearching over the precipe where there was the most deafening, almighty cascade of water I have ever seen. There were hordes of people but this place was big enough for us all. An ampitheatre like drop from the massive waterplain above churned with the sheer violence and weight of what must be tonnes of water each second falling over the edge. It was so massive that the mist created by the waterfall was propelled so far into the air that the boardwalk at its safe distance was utterly drenched- that was what had happened to the returning tourists! We tried to snap through the droplets of water and just indulged in the energy of the whole scene. It bought to mind the glacier a couple of weeks back as nature left us once again in awe.
After an introduction to the magnificence of this place we spent the rest of the day wandering around the many tracks offering vantage points from above and below the falls. It was a beautiful day topped off at the end by our encounter with cute little creatures with monkey like bodies and stripey tails but long snuffly noses as they foraged for food. By the time we headed back that evening we were exhausted and satisfied.
Next day we had mostly to ourselves- after the obligatory internet check of course. Once again this involved quite a search though when eventually seated at a functional desktop I was rewarded with an email at last. However, the pissy thing was to tell me that they would not disclose my results until they had my references- argh!! I quickly emailed my old tutors to chase this up, hoping a quick response would put me out of my misery as soon as possible- every time it came to mind it made my tummy do a little flip.
After that we headed back to plan our day. We aimed to wander to a nearby garden though we somehow missed it and so took a massive stroll around town in the hot hot sun. We returned for a lazy aftrenoon and whilst Blakey snoozed I headed to get some long overdue laundry sorted (though once again to no avail) and to phone and wish my Mum a Happy Birthday- plus yet another internet check of course. Nada. But a good gossip home kept me satisfied.
The afternoon was topped off with a slightly ill timed wander to the Tres Frontera- a point where two rivers meet and we could see the banks of Paraguay and our next destination, Brazil. A wrong turn meant we got ther just after sunset (which is happening so much earlier now) but it was a pleasant stroll none the less. As we headed back our sense of adventure grew- the power supply had gone out again and so we cautiously stumbled through the cobbled streets in the pitch black and returned to our candle lit hostel, looking quite romantic in the flicker of the dim flames.
The next morning saw us repack once again and after dropping our bags off at the bus station head off on the most epic interent search yet. The previous evenings power cut had put every single internet cafe in the town out of action, but I couldn´t bear the thought of still not knowing the result for the duration of Rio carnival- it was time to stop my tummy from flipping! After a hour of wandering from place to place we eventually found a small hostel that allowed us to access their computer. No joy again. Fingers crossed carnival would keep me too busy to think about it!!
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Buenos Aires
Our 19 hour journey to Buenos Aires would roughly now take us up to a brain numbing 200 hours worth of bus rides since arriving in South America. That is ruddy impressive seeing as we have only been here just over a month now and with regular annoyances aside we have got the the point where we are actually starting to enjoy them. Not only do we get the time to listen through hundreds of long forgotten albums, watch an entire shops worth of DVD´s, get fed some decent free food (veggie´s excluded) but we also get a moment to switch off and feel like we´re back at home again.
We had spent so many weeks in the thrilling and quiet mountainous countryside that arriving half asleep at the overflowing Buenos Aires bus station crammed full of tourists rushing to find which of the 80 plus platforms their bus left from alongside eager taxi drivers and people trying to sell us tacky (yet admittedly quite cool) laser pens made our welcome to the city slightly overwhelming. We had already decided that we wanted to find accommodation in San Telmo, which is the true heart of BA´s famous Tango culture, so we made a quick exit and jumped into the nearest yellow cab.
Driving around the beautiful cobbled streets passed stunning stone carved 19th century European buildings we found a perfect and cheap hotel right in front of the main plaza. As the door to Hotel Carly opened we were greeted by a shy little girl who invited us into a seemingly endless open hallway with a ceiling almost 10 times her height. She led us to her Mum, the owner and we secured a room with some brilliantly dreadful 80´s artwork.
The weather was seriously hot and muggy so we got out some skimpy clothes and as we began to undress ourselves we noticed that our recent lengthy bus ride had given us old ladies fat ankle syndrome. It was like a small goblin like creature had secretly poked a few bags of marshmallows under our skin whilst we slept last night. Anyway we walked back outside to look for a place to have dinner and didn´t have to search far as the romantic setting of the plaza opposite us was not only offering a free Tango performace, but also buy-one-get-one-free on beer which certainly ticked all the right boxes! To make matters even greater I ordered a Bife de Chorizo, the mouth watering Argentinian slab of steak- good times! I have to say that my first taste of Tango wasn´t anywhere near as juicy, more on the cringe worthy side. I´ve not watched it before but even I could tell that the young female dancer wasn´t up to much with her bent legged kicks and poor flirting skills. The male performer had all of the moves but he was so short and serious in the face that I almost choked on my meat. Eitherways it was a lovely way to end the day and a terrific start to this new city.
There was no way on earth that the first half of this new day was going to be stress free, as at 12pm Laura had her interview for the Masters course in London which would change both of our lives entirely whether it was a yes or no. So much of our future, particularly the next year, depends on this one simple answer. After a peaceful breakfast with Laura looking relatively calm on the outside but bricking it on the inside it was time to make the call. Around half an hour later Laura stepped out of the small newagent´s cabin in more of a gibbering, confused state then before she went in. For the most part it seemed as if the interviewer was highly impressed with her and dished out plenty of compliments, but Laura´s nerves had overcome her like never before. We didn´t get an answer either and we won´t find out for days now.
We went back to the plaza to sit down and talk over every detail of the interview. Laura clearly had her head in the clouds and it was going to take something truly extraordinary to bring her back to me. After realising that is wasn´t going to be my chicken sandwich that did the trick we soon stumbled across such an obvious solution- a shop full of gorgeous vintage wedding dresses! Within minutes Laura´s eyes were beaming dollar signs at one dress in particular. Whilst I went off to look around another part of the shop Laura snuck into a changing room and thankfully for our cashflow, the dress was too small.
The rest of the day was spent going in and out some of the most interesting antique shops on the planet. My parents would sweat money and excitement out of every pore nosing around these streets and not just them but pretty much everyone I know would find something irresistible here. There was all sorts of items ranging from rusty bajo´s, frail rocking horses, extremely tempting gramophones, ridiculously shaped sun glasses, overly loved teddy bears with body parts hanging by a few threads, beautifully decored furniture, toys that haven´t been around since my Granny was in her nappy, clothes for any fancy dress party imaginable and shelves upon shelves of old dolls in which many looked like prime candidates for the next Chucky horror. At times it was hard to tell what was a genuine antique and I am still trying to decide about the perverse collection of matchboxes covered in various members of The Simpsons doing indescribable acts of sexual pleasure to each other like the one with Bart, Lisa and Marge.
Since arriving here we had only seen one neighborhood in this charming metropolis so the next day we planned to visit the area of Recoleta- however we got a little side tracked. After a morning belly full of toast, jam and coffee we called home as it was Laura´s Dad´s 50th birthday and I had also promised my Mother the sound of her son´s voice. Walking back up to our hotel we found yet more fascinating shops that required a peek in. By the time we had finished hunting for treasures we were hungry again so we ended up in another inviting cafe and after some tremendous pasta it was now coming up to 5pm already. That wasn´t going to stop our plans for the day so we zoomed off in a taxi to the main bus station to quickly sort out transport for tomorrow to Iguazu and then on to Rio which ended up costing us a wapping 300 pounds and then finally we arrived in Ricoleta.
We wondered up to a lush green park which had hundreds of interesting stalls set up and a hord of sweaty Argentinian musicians with their tops off slapping djuembe´s and dancing to the ladies that walked past like some kind of mating call. One of the main attractions here is the cemetary where Evita´s grave can be found but when we went up to the entrance it had been taped off with Police scouting about inside so we didn´t get to see anything about from the tall walls that surround the entire site. We did get to stroll around the cultural centre and see some graffic contemporary art, and the church which overlooks the park had us snapping away at it´s amazing illuminated structure.
Our afternoon rather abruptly ended though as Laura spotted a large clump of dog poo on her flip flop and bare heal which led me to notice it was also all over one cheek of her trousers which had smeared into her T-shirt and rubbed on to her swinging hand bag. No amount of Laura rolling around in the grass was going to sort this out so we jumped into a taxi back to our hotel for some fresh non dog smelling clothes.
Almost nearing our street and our taxi driver pulled his car over to one side and said that he could take us no further. Thankfully it wasn´t because Laura smelt so bad, it was actually that the road ahead was closed fort the San Telmo street carnival. What a lovely surprise that was! We got out and rushed up the road towards the sound of a tribal army stampeding through the city. We excitedly looked on to a mass percussion of around 20 bass drums, ear splitting cymbols, tight picolo snares and hundres of performers from various different ages in glittery costumes pulling off all kinds of airborne dance manoevers. Everyone spectating was getting squirted in the face with what smelt like furniture polish by giggly kids which most of whom were completely covered from head to toe in the white foam and clearly loving it.
We quickly ran back to get changed and feel slightly less hobo like and about 20 minutes later we rejoined the carnival which had also changed in style. Along to the sound of an Argentinian version of the ´Addams Family´, two very confident and very busty Transvestites wearing knee high boots and not much else, paraded in the middle of another colouful group of dancers twisting umbrella´s and giant dice around. With all the naked felsh on display I was starting to get hungry for some meat so I ordered up a burger whilst Laura got a mouth full from a group of young boys and their spray cans. The parade came to a close soon after and we both left in a complete buzzing state and begab to wonder how we would feel in just under a week when the real carnival in Rio kicks off.
I awoke the next morning to a low grumbling rumble shaking the floor as if the drummers from last night were right outside of the hotel demanding me to get out of bed. Laura was already up and returned from the bathroom and told me it was absolutely heaving it down outside with rain and impressive thunder bellowing the sky. It appeared that our last day in Buenos Aires was going to be a quiet sit down in an Internet cafe. However, the moment we stepped out of the door to find a place for breakfast our eyes fixed upon the plaza which had been transformed into a bustling antiques fair. Every market stall had it´s rain coat on and no-one was going to let the weather spoil their sales. It looked terrific but we first found ourselves some food in preparation for hours worth of digging around this dream jumble sale. With breakfast finished we dived straight into the collection of goodies and by the time we had done a lengthy loop of the plaza, a whole load more stalls had been set up leading us to happily start all over again.
The sunshine was starting to break through and with it came a host of delightful residents that I´m sure come here every Sunday. Among our favourite characters of the day were the loving old couple Pochi and Oslvaldo who performed brilliantly entertaining Tango, a Danny DeVito look alike who stood in the same place for the entire afternoon with his belly flopped out and another elderly man who pulled fantastic faces everytime he choked his chicken.
There was also dozens of talented musicians on every corner all adding to the flaovour and magic of this place. After we put a couple of dollars in a very smart suited old chap´s busker pot he serenaded Laura with his classical guitar and sang to her besutiful lyrics of love. I think after about 20 seconds worth of him staring deep into her eyes with the people on the street also watching on she was feeling a little uncomfortable- it lasted 2 minutes haha!
As we walked further away from the plaza we came across streets upon streets of further markets and our time right up to the last hour before our bus left was spent endlessly roaming all of the different variety on offer. We really didn´t have any money to buy anything but were having such an amazing and enjoyable day just being there.
We left Buenos Aires knowing for a fact that one day we would return as this city has honestly been our favourite so far and we´ve not even seen half of it yet. We had totally fallen in love, but with Iguazu Falls being our next destination, it made leaving here a little easier.
We had spent so many weeks in the thrilling and quiet mountainous countryside that arriving half asleep at the overflowing Buenos Aires bus station crammed full of tourists rushing to find which of the 80 plus platforms their bus left from alongside eager taxi drivers and people trying to sell us tacky (yet admittedly quite cool) laser pens made our welcome to the city slightly overwhelming. We had already decided that we wanted to find accommodation in San Telmo, which is the true heart of BA´s famous Tango culture, so we made a quick exit and jumped into the nearest yellow cab.
Driving around the beautiful cobbled streets passed stunning stone carved 19th century European buildings we found a perfect and cheap hotel right in front of the main plaza. As the door to Hotel Carly opened we were greeted by a shy little girl who invited us into a seemingly endless open hallway with a ceiling almost 10 times her height. She led us to her Mum, the owner and we secured a room with some brilliantly dreadful 80´s artwork.
The weather was seriously hot and muggy so we got out some skimpy clothes and as we began to undress ourselves we noticed that our recent lengthy bus ride had given us old ladies fat ankle syndrome. It was like a small goblin like creature had secretly poked a few bags of marshmallows under our skin whilst we slept last night. Anyway we walked back outside to look for a place to have dinner and didn´t have to search far as the romantic setting of the plaza opposite us was not only offering a free Tango performace, but also buy-one-get-one-free on beer which certainly ticked all the right boxes! To make matters even greater I ordered a Bife de Chorizo, the mouth watering Argentinian slab of steak- good times! I have to say that my first taste of Tango wasn´t anywhere near as juicy, more on the cringe worthy side. I´ve not watched it before but even I could tell that the young female dancer wasn´t up to much with her bent legged kicks and poor flirting skills. The male performer had all of the moves but he was so short and serious in the face that I almost choked on my meat. Eitherways it was a lovely way to end the day and a terrific start to this new city.
There was no way on earth that the first half of this new day was going to be stress free, as at 12pm Laura had her interview for the Masters course in London which would change both of our lives entirely whether it was a yes or no. So much of our future, particularly the next year, depends on this one simple answer. After a peaceful breakfast with Laura looking relatively calm on the outside but bricking it on the inside it was time to make the call. Around half an hour later Laura stepped out of the small newagent´s cabin in more of a gibbering, confused state then before she went in. For the most part it seemed as if the interviewer was highly impressed with her and dished out plenty of compliments, but Laura´s nerves had overcome her like never before. We didn´t get an answer either and we won´t find out for days now.
We went back to the plaza to sit down and talk over every detail of the interview. Laura clearly had her head in the clouds and it was going to take something truly extraordinary to bring her back to me. After realising that is wasn´t going to be my chicken sandwich that did the trick we soon stumbled across such an obvious solution- a shop full of gorgeous vintage wedding dresses! Within minutes Laura´s eyes were beaming dollar signs at one dress in particular. Whilst I went off to look around another part of the shop Laura snuck into a changing room and thankfully for our cashflow, the dress was too small.
The rest of the day was spent going in and out some of the most interesting antique shops on the planet. My parents would sweat money and excitement out of every pore nosing around these streets and not just them but pretty much everyone I know would find something irresistible here. There was all sorts of items ranging from rusty bajo´s, frail rocking horses, extremely tempting gramophones, ridiculously shaped sun glasses, overly loved teddy bears with body parts hanging by a few threads, beautifully decored furniture, toys that haven´t been around since my Granny was in her nappy, clothes for any fancy dress party imaginable and shelves upon shelves of old dolls in which many looked like prime candidates for the next Chucky horror. At times it was hard to tell what was a genuine antique and I am still trying to decide about the perverse collection of matchboxes covered in various members of The Simpsons doing indescribable acts of sexual pleasure to each other like the one with Bart, Lisa and Marge.
Since arriving here we had only seen one neighborhood in this charming metropolis so the next day we planned to visit the area of Recoleta- however we got a little side tracked. After a morning belly full of toast, jam and coffee we called home as it was Laura´s Dad´s 50th birthday and I had also promised my Mother the sound of her son´s voice. Walking back up to our hotel we found yet more fascinating shops that required a peek in. By the time we had finished hunting for treasures we were hungry again so we ended up in another inviting cafe and after some tremendous pasta it was now coming up to 5pm already. That wasn´t going to stop our plans for the day so we zoomed off in a taxi to the main bus station to quickly sort out transport for tomorrow to Iguazu and then on to Rio which ended up costing us a wapping 300 pounds and then finally we arrived in Ricoleta.
We wondered up to a lush green park which had hundreds of interesting stalls set up and a hord of sweaty Argentinian musicians with their tops off slapping djuembe´s and dancing to the ladies that walked past like some kind of mating call. One of the main attractions here is the cemetary where Evita´s grave can be found but when we went up to the entrance it had been taped off with Police scouting about inside so we didn´t get to see anything about from the tall walls that surround the entire site. We did get to stroll around the cultural centre and see some graffic contemporary art, and the church which overlooks the park had us snapping away at it´s amazing illuminated structure.
Our afternoon rather abruptly ended though as Laura spotted a large clump of dog poo on her flip flop and bare heal which led me to notice it was also all over one cheek of her trousers which had smeared into her T-shirt and rubbed on to her swinging hand bag. No amount of Laura rolling around in the grass was going to sort this out so we jumped into a taxi back to our hotel for some fresh non dog smelling clothes.
Almost nearing our street and our taxi driver pulled his car over to one side and said that he could take us no further. Thankfully it wasn´t because Laura smelt so bad, it was actually that the road ahead was closed fort the San Telmo street carnival. What a lovely surprise that was! We got out and rushed up the road towards the sound of a tribal army stampeding through the city. We excitedly looked on to a mass percussion of around 20 bass drums, ear splitting cymbols, tight picolo snares and hundres of performers from various different ages in glittery costumes pulling off all kinds of airborne dance manoevers. Everyone spectating was getting squirted in the face with what smelt like furniture polish by giggly kids which most of whom were completely covered from head to toe in the white foam and clearly loving it.
We quickly ran back to get changed and feel slightly less hobo like and about 20 minutes later we rejoined the carnival which had also changed in style. Along to the sound of an Argentinian version of the ´Addams Family´, two very confident and very busty Transvestites wearing knee high boots and not much else, paraded in the middle of another colouful group of dancers twisting umbrella´s and giant dice around. With all the naked felsh on display I was starting to get hungry for some meat so I ordered up a burger whilst Laura got a mouth full from a group of young boys and their spray cans. The parade came to a close soon after and we both left in a complete buzzing state and begab to wonder how we would feel in just under a week when the real carnival in Rio kicks off.
I awoke the next morning to a low grumbling rumble shaking the floor as if the drummers from last night were right outside of the hotel demanding me to get out of bed. Laura was already up and returned from the bathroom and told me it was absolutely heaving it down outside with rain and impressive thunder bellowing the sky. It appeared that our last day in Buenos Aires was going to be a quiet sit down in an Internet cafe. However, the moment we stepped out of the door to find a place for breakfast our eyes fixed upon the plaza which had been transformed into a bustling antiques fair. Every market stall had it´s rain coat on and no-one was going to let the weather spoil their sales. It looked terrific but we first found ourselves some food in preparation for hours worth of digging around this dream jumble sale. With breakfast finished we dived straight into the collection of goodies and by the time we had done a lengthy loop of the plaza, a whole load more stalls had been set up leading us to happily start all over again.
The sunshine was starting to break through and with it came a host of delightful residents that I´m sure come here every Sunday. Among our favourite characters of the day were the loving old couple Pochi and Oslvaldo who performed brilliantly entertaining Tango, a Danny DeVito look alike who stood in the same place for the entire afternoon with his belly flopped out and another elderly man who pulled fantastic faces everytime he choked his chicken.
There was also dozens of talented musicians on every corner all adding to the flaovour and magic of this place. After we put a couple of dollars in a very smart suited old chap´s busker pot he serenaded Laura with his classical guitar and sang to her besutiful lyrics of love. I think after about 20 seconds worth of him staring deep into her eyes with the people on the street also watching on she was feeling a little uncomfortable- it lasted 2 minutes haha!
As we walked further away from the plaza we came across streets upon streets of further markets and our time right up to the last hour before our bus left was spent endlessly roaming all of the different variety on offer. We really didn´t have any money to buy anything but were having such an amazing and enjoyable day just being there.
We left Buenos Aires knowing for a fact that one day we would return as this city has honestly been our favourite so far and we´ve not even seen half of it yet. We had totally fallen in love, but with Iguazu Falls being our next destination, it made leaving here a little easier.
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