The Legendary Salt Pans

Which way up Morgan?

Returning to La Paz for a shower and supper (and randomly bumping into someone from university), I promptly left again, with Bec and Tina, for the salt pans in the south of Bolivia (can you tell we´re on a tight schedule here?). On the bus we added a lovely Irish lad to our group and once in Uyuni (which has no ATMs, by the way, for any unsuspecting travellers heading that way) we met up with another girl, Morgan, who we´d hung out with in La Paz. Our group complete (apart from another English guy who joined us), we started out on a tour that was awesome in every way except for our guides, who sucked, pretty literally.

The salt pans are just the most different thing you´ll ever see. I have to admit I was a sceptic before I went. I was mainly put off by the thought of sitting in a bus for days and hearing of ridiculous, -20 degree cold weather. Well, you do sit in a bus a lot – but I can hardly walk right now so that didn´t matter – and it is stupidly cold, but it´s just extra-ordinary.

There´s just white all around you. I kept thinking it was snow cos that´s what I´ve been seeing for so long now. But it´s just salt. And then all of a sudden there´s an island full of cacti, and then just more white. No, it´s not boring, the white doesn´t even last that long. It gets replaced by red and green lakes and blue lakes full of bright pink flamingoes. And if there was ever a time we thought we were getting bored, there were always somewhat educational debates to be had or the IPOD game - a game so irritating to anyone not playing that we won the war with our guide to play music aloud :)

On the last day we braved the pre-sunrise chill to watch amazing geysers shooting high into the air, proving just how much pressure and heat there is only a little way beneath our feet. Then, just when my toes were so cold I wanted to cry, I managed to take off my clothes and go swimming in, thankfully, naturally hot pools until the sun came up. That was the craziest part, I think, swimming in deliciously hot water and then getting out and having my hair literally freeze together! It´s beauty to be appreciated despite the hostile climate.

Bye bye Bolivia

Andean adventures

Hiking in various parts of the Andes over the past few months has opened up experiences of mountains I can hardly describe. For a start, I don´t think I´ve ever been so cold in my life before. Honestly. I can´t sleep, I can´t do much at all excpet shiver up there!
But all minor complaints aside (after all, sights and feelings such as these should always be earned somehow), being so high and being in such giant muntains as these, I can only stop and stare in wonder and complete appreciation.

Cuenca itself offered wonderful hiking opportunities in it´s national park, Cajas. It´s a maze of mountains and lakes and wild flowers and it´s an awesome place to practice some high altitude hiking. I think the more I went there, the more I fell in love with it. Always cold and almost always raining, it had a way seducing one back time and time again. Maybe a bit like England – no just kidding :)

My first go at a really high mountain, or volcano to be more accurate, was after I finished teaching and headed up to try out Cotopaxi, at last. I went up with my friend Matt and we spent a couple of days (probably the most miserable, shivery, bored days of our lives ever) in the refuge at the base, or at least at 4800m, of the snowy giant. It snowed all the time we were there.Well, almost all the time we were there. We had one clear evening where we took a walk up the mountain a little way to see the sunset and the many volcanoes all around us in the evening light. While up there we were treated to the rare sight of an Andean fox, a poser so it turned out, who rather liked having his foto taken and was quite intrigued by us!

As one does on these mountains, we got up on the second “morning” at midnight, ready to start at 1am. We do this so the snow is more compact and there is less chance of an avalanche, and also because it´s so hard to sleep when it´s so cold and high anyway.

I have to say, at this point, that I have wanted to climb this mountain for ages now and was super excited just to be up there. However, that night was not to be for us and the mountain. The snow was just too thick and too soft for any safe attempt and we were forced to go down after climbing to just 5050m. It was truly dissapointing, especially as both of us felt strong and ready to climb, without any of the effects of altitude. Nevertheless, it taught me an important lesson: it doesn´t matter who you are, how fit and strong you are or how much you have paid, the mountain is always the one in charge, and she can throw anything she likes at you (especially if she´s a volcano ;) )

After managing Misti and getting a taste of what it felt like ot be at the top though, I had the bug and was ready to get going again and try some other mountains all over the place. Bec, Tina and myself decided on a trek from nearby La Paz, Bolivia, called the Tuni-Condoriri 3 day trek, in the Cordillera Real. (Bolivia, by the way, is a must-see country, it´s BEAUTIFUL!!) The trek was spectacular. Wherever we went there were massive, snowy mountains reaching down into glacier lakes, and the skies were bright, bright blue. It was still freezing, but definitely worth 2 sleepless nights and every shiver we shivered. Just being somewhere so majestic was a real privelege.

I realised during this hike, while I was loving it so much, how different it is to be hiking, or trekking as they call it here, to climbing a peak. Peaks are damn hard work. And I don´t feel good on them. They are both a psychological and a physical battle and sometimes I´m just not up for that. I think they are like an addiction whereas normal hiking, for me, is a deep love.

The day after we got back I decided, once again without much foresight, to try Huayna Potosi, a 6033m towering peak near La Paz. This was probably a bit rushed – I was still tird from Misit and hadn´t had any sleep the last few nights because of the cold. But I figured it wasn´t like I´d be in la Paz next month so why not give it a shot. The first day was pretty easy and short, ending in a wonderful view of the glacier above us and the valleys below us. I even had a couple of hours lapping up the sun (all be it in a coat and scarf and anything else warm I could find to put on!)

The climb the next morning however was another story. It was incredibly steep all the way and I found it hard to get a rhythm or to be able to catch my breath at all. I was also very nauseous and just had no energy, almost from the beginning. I think I realised pretty early on that I had rushed into this a bit. I think my biggest mistake was leaving my partner-in-crime/ motivational guru, Bec, behind! Instead I was with an older, American guy who himself hadn´t expected it to be so tough. This was not quite the winning combination and so we turned around about half way, at 5650m, just before it started getting pretty technical. Once again, I was pretty disappointed, but not too much. It was another 3 hours to the top and I was tired, really tired. I don´t see too much shame in being beaten by such a magnificent mountain anyway. I´ll just have to try again next time ;)

One thing it has done is forced me to rest for a while now. My crampon boots were too small which meant raw heels on the way up and squashed toes on the way down. I still can´t put shoes on now, a week later! So no more for the immediate future. Not too bad though, I´m planning on lying on the deck of a boat in the Galapogas for a few days starting Wednesday, maybe exerting myself only to go and swim with the fishies :)

The World´s Most dangerous road...

The road between La Paz and the tropical town of Coroico (we´re in Bolivia now) has a death toll of 100 people per year, making it the the highest rate for any 40km stretch of road in the world. Travelling both up and down it, I could understand why. Yes, it may even compete with certain taxi-governed streets back home. (Although there are certain tiny countryside lanes in England that could come close to it!)

Having convinced Bec to join me climbing a volcano, I thought it only fair that I agree to do what she wanted, which was to mounan bike down this hair-razing stupid “World´s most dangerous road” with nothing but a couple of meters between me and a 400m drop, aka certain death.

Now if any of you know about me and mountain bikes (I know my brother does) you´ll know that we don´t get on awfully well and it´s pretty much one of the scariest things you could ask me to do. Add a one lane mountain pass full of impatient trucks and horrible drops and I definitely feel that I did something that day that scared me. At least the scenery was incredible, not that I was looking at it much.

Acually, after about ten minutes on the bike I kind of got used to it and even started enjoying myself. It no longer felt that stupid and I didn´t think every second that I was about to die. Once I was comfortable on my bike I actually even started thinking about taking up this sport – see, you never know until you really try something!

The road itself has an interesting system. Normally in Bolivia one drives on the right hand side of the road. But on this road, you drive on the “left”. I use the term “left” loosely here as there only really is one lane and therefore saying there is a left and right side is a bit of an overstatement. Anyhoo, because it is so steep, trucks coming up the pass have right of way. Trucks coming down therefore have to wait in a little passing bay while trucks coming up go past. But, when there is no passing bay, trucks coming own have to reverse up, and therefore need to see their wheels on the “drop” side so that they don´t go off the edge. Being road-conscious cyclists, this meant that we too were cycling down on the “drop” side. Yikes.

Every now and then one passes a man, or indeed a whole family, standing on a corner waving a red or green flag. From their vantage point they can see what trucks are coming up and warn vehicles coming down to slow down. This is all on a volunteer basis and was started by a man, Timotei, who tragically lost his entire family in an overtaking-on-a-blind-corner head on collision. He relies on donations from drivers as his income and he has inspired other people in nearby communites to do the same.

Our downhill thrill ended in the lovely village of Coroico where we were completely spoiled with much needed HOT showers, a swimming pool and lunch, before we headed back up to La Paz along the same road. This time was harder to get used to. It was late and dark and the fog was so heavy you couldn´t see further than 2 meters ahead of the van. We had to back down for a bigger truck that ended up passing us on the inside. This was far more terrifying than bumping down on a bike in the happy light of day! No casualties this trip though, I´m glad to say. Our guardian angels were doing their thing and we had a very experienced driver. I may have aching arms now but it really was fun and I´m so glad I agreed to it all.

Misti days in Arequippa

Arequippa (in the south of Peru) is one of my favourite towns so far, even if only because it is warm. For being so close to the equator I think I am spending far too much time in scarves and beanies!
Once my folks left, I found myself once again let loose on this unsuspecting continent and very quickly caught up with Bec to share some more adventures. Our idea for Arequippa was to head out on a 3-day hike down the Colca Canyon, apparently one of the deepest canyons in the world. This we did and were very impressed with it´s views and magnificence, complete with condors and an oasis with a swimming pool! We stayed in a little village overnight and Bec proved her ability to overcome her fears by walking up the canyon in the dark, in a thunderstorm without so much as a jump! I proved my artistic abilities to fall down the mountain in the dark and make one knee look like the other that had been badly abused in a soccer match a couple of weeks earlier.

After hiking up out of the canyon and having a day in the bus to recover, we decided, almost out of the blue really, to give Volcano Misti a go. The next day. It´s a pretty big volcano, 5827m high, and I don´t think I can say that we weren’t incredibly daunted by it! Our first day, with all our stuff and 8 litres of water on our backs, was a real uphill, 5 hour slog. In fact I was so knackered by the time we got to base camp that all I could do was lie in the tent eating! But we were treated to a fantastic sunset over Areqippa below us and soon we were huddled in our tents, shivering once again until the wee hours of the following morning. I have discovered that while I can quite easily pass out in a bus for hours at a time in the most awkward positions, I am completely unable to sleep when I am cold, or at high altitude.

At 2am the next day we started our 5 and a half hour climb to the summit. It was a clear night with about a gazillion stars and the lights of Arequippa twinkling below us made us feel like we were flying over the little town. It was really tough though. I kept being hit by waves of nausea as we climbed higher and higher and had to fight off the urge to just sit down and go to sleep. It was so cold that Bec´s hair literally froze – zoom in on the fotos! We couldn´t stop for longer than a few minutes before we were shivering uncontrollably and had numb fingers and toes. Just when I was wondering what I was even thinking being up there, I started feeling better and the last part seemed a little easier, perhaps because I knew the end was close by. The sun never did make it´s way out to warm our way and so once again, the view from the top was pretty much just cloud. We only spent about 5 minutes at the top to take a few pictures and entertain thoughts of going back down victorious to hot cups of anything and a warm shower.

Gong down was really fun! None of the toe-squashing, knee-crunching usual downhill. This was jumping down lovely soft volcanic ash! We even went right into the old crater, which was like being on another planet. Five and a half hours up and only 40 minutes to get down! Fun, fun fun!

And that was Misti, we did it, yay! Almost more impressive was that we went dancing that night until getting on a bus at 3am to take us up to La Paz, where we finally collapsed for a while.

*As I was writing this, I was sitting in the sun at the high camp of Huayna Potosi, an impressive mountain just outside La Paz, preparing to climb it´s snowy, 6033m peak. It seems these peaks are addictive. They are awe-inspiring. To be up so high, surrounded by snow-capped mountains and vast valleys, with thin but fresh air all around you is something that is difficult to really describe in words. It´s also amazing how quickly you forget the pain of the peak before!

In the jungle, the mighty jungle

It´s not all hacking paths with a machete and swotting mozzies in the Ecuadorian Amazon (although I can´t say I came away unscathed from the attacks of the little blood-suckers). There are such places as Sacha Lodge, which I was fortunate enough to visit with my parents, that are jungle oasi, palaces suspended above caiman and frog-filled swamps.

We flew into the oil town of Coca and were ferried down the vast, muddy-brown Napo River for about 2 hours (the perfect time for an on-river nap). Then we walked through a forest and into more canoes which finally ferried us across a pristine lake (which would later be our swimming pool) to the remote lodge. You know when you´re met with not only your very own pair of wellies for the next few days but also with a complimentary, appropriately green-coloured cocktail, that you have arrived somewhere special :) I´m sure we had two of the most informative, keen-eyed guides possible. They seemed to almost sense birds and animals miles away or so well camouflaged we would never have seen them ourselves- that´s why you have a guide, right? Our first adventure began the night we arrived. After supper we ventured outside the lodge to look for frogs, which then included a whole photography lesson for me on how to take good froggy pictures…

The next day we climbed a 30m tower above the tree canopy to look for birds. Equipped with a good telescope and two awesome guides, we managed to see, I kid you not, 100 species of birds in the four hours we were up there. For my birding parents, this was what it was all about. While fascinated and over-awed by it all, my greatest satisfaction that day came from swinging on jungle vines (call me Jane) and catching two pirhanas from the afore-mentioned, pristine, “swimming pool” lake J Don´t worry, supposedly they were “vegetarian” pirhanas, nevermind the bait they gave us for them was raw meat. Whatever, I went swimming everyday and I still have a complete set of fingers and toes.

One day, sitting on the swimming deck, contemplating my beautiful surroundings, I became aware of a very strange, rather unnerving noise in the distance. I may have thought it was a traumatized elephant had there been any in the vicinity. As there weren´t, I was forced to believe until told otherwise, that it was some terrible, roaring, three-headed monster. Luckily for us all, I was told otherwise and discovered the noise of the Howler Monkey, who really are pretty lazy and, while cute to look at, after staring at them for a while through a telescope and not observing any change in position, one is forced to return the telescope to the more excited birders in the group.

Another day we took a trip down the river to a clay lick, otherwise known as the singles bar for parrots. Sadly (or maybe gladly for all the pretty parrots) there weren´t many birds looking to impress or be impressed by others. When there were parrots up in the trees above, they were scared away by the most magnificent eagle (have to get name from the folks). Not a bad compromise really!

During our time in the jungle (which was surprising short with all we got in) we went on night hikes and canoe rides and to a butterfly farm. We even went anaconda hunting but found a much smaller, fat and lazy boa instead. We visited a local home where the 8 and 7 year old children were left to look after the younger children while mom took the older ones to the doctor. One of these kids, Damian, relieved me of my camera almost the moment I arrived and proceeded to fill up my memory card with the most wonderfully-captured moments and portraits. I think these are some of my most precious pictures so far.


In the jungle even the littlest bugs and plants are fascinating. Just being there is such an experience, I think it is my favourite place of visiting here so far.

folk time

Many of you know that my parents trekked all the way over to South America for a month in April, partly to see me and partly because they are travel-bug-bitten adventurers. I was thrilled to be able to show them around my town and school and around beautiful (although sadly at times rather rainy) Ecuador. I have really become quite fond of Ecuador and am so happy to have been able to share part of my experience of it with some people from home now.

I met my folks in Quito, where we spent a couple of days seeing the city, the centre of the world and the spectacular blue-green lake, Quilatoa, before heading to our jungle adventure (see the next blog for more on that one). After the jungle we came back down to Cuenca, which was on it´s best behaviour full of Easter parades and no rain for an entire week (which is like asking the wind not to blow in Cape Town in December). We spent the week hiking in Cajas, shopping around the markets and just enjoying the laid-back Cuencano atmosphere. We even bought Panama hats (which are actually made in Cuenca, not Panama) after a rather informative tour of their history and production. I got to sort all my stuff out in Cuenca and see friends again before saying a fond farewell and leaving via Cuenca´s most scary but most dramatic road to Guayaquil - from high and freezing mountain passes with sheer drops to the valley far below, to hot and humid banana plantations on the coast.

We flew to peru from there and headed toward the Inca capital, Cusco. It´s a really touristy town but is also full of interesting museums and fun places to hang out, and of course full of markets to get lost and spend all your soles in :) It´s also surrounded by many, many ruins, the most famous of course being Macchu Picchu, which was our last destination toghether. This too was really special to share with my parents. They both made it up the towering mountain behind the ruins, Waynu Picchu, which is a real uphill, breath-stealing, heart-pumping slog. It´s definitely worth it for the staggering view of the surrounding mountains and the ruins below. Sadly though, the view was non-existent as the morning fog had yet to clear. Still, full marks to them for making the effort! We spent the whole day on a tour, climbing, reading and just generally enjoying this awe-inspiring last city. It was a wonderful end to our time together. From there, my parents made their way to Buenos Aires for another week before returning home. And I headed south to Arequippa to meet my friend Bec and do some more hiking...