Brazilian Soccer fever

I have found a home for the next few days with my friend Daiane, who lives in Sao Paulo. Actually, tomorrow this home is going to move to a house in Ihla Bella, an island just near Rio. Hmmmm, maybe I’ll stay a little longer…

But so far we have just been having fun hanging out, meeting her friends and watching the soccer. Yesterday was Brazil vs. Ghana. Now I have to say that I do have a strong loyalty towards any African country that gets anywhere in the World Cup but announcing this to a pub full of Brazilians did not seem a wise idea. So when a reporter from a very popular radio station came up to me (at my friend’s prompting) and said, “You’re from South Africa, which is in Africa as Ghana is… who are you supporting today?” I felt like a martyr on trial. Luckily I got away with a cute little smile, a shrug and the attempt at not understanding his perfect English.

Anyway, the game was great and the party was even better. There was a live samba band there, complete with Sambistas, the BEAUTIFUL Brazilian dancers who really know how to shake it. The afternoon was danced away until we could barely stand up.


On Saturday, I will whole-heartedly be shouting for Brazil.

Iguazu

Armed with company (my friend Matt from Cuenca), I headed to view the infamous Iguazu Falls in a far better mood. And if I hadn’t been in a good mood I soon would have been because this place is just about as tranquilo as you can get when dealing with crowds of Disney-Land proportions.

We spent the first day on the Argentinean side where you can get really close to the falls. Just walking through the park was really, really pleasant. Finally arriving at the Devil’s Throat, the main part of the Falls was just incredible. It’s something that words really don’t do justice to, and neither do the photographs, so I won’t say too much. But the water – the sight, the sound, the power- was so intense it gave me a headache to look at it.

We had planned our day as anyone in Argentina then would have, around the soccer game that afternoon, and arrived just in time to enjoy the game with our steak. The rejoicing that ran through the sleepy little town of Puerto Iguazu after that game gave us the perfect ending to the day and a great note to leave Argentina on.

Another bus trip, another border and a dodgy hotel later, we spent our second day on the Brazilian, “bigger picture” side of the falls before heading up north to Sao Paulo for me and Rio for Matt.

Up close and personal in Paraguay

I feel a little like an intrepid explorer who lost her way down a Paraguayan river laid her pith hat to rest and headed straight back from whence she came.

Lets just say that Paraguay is poor but friendly and next time I will come back with a friend or two, my own car and maybe a tent. It’s a beautiful country. It has eleven national parks, a humungous river and jungle area. It has a desert. It has tribes that have no contact with any world but their own. It has a very tragic history. Back in the 1800s, this rather small, landlocked country suffered from what must have been an inferiority complex of epic proportions and declared war on Brazil… and then Argentina and then Uruguay by default. Jokes aside, they lost half their male population and when there were no more soldiers left, they sent kids out to the frontlines with farm implements to fight.

I started out in the country’s capital, Asuncion, with a French couple and a Japanese guy. We watched Paraguay leave the world cup dignified and wandered the streets of this tropical city discovering palaces and slums and many mosquitoes.

We spent a couple of days together and then I went a little way south, determined to find one of the parks. Trying to get tourist information here is like trying to find the proverbial needle. Mention the word “trekking” and you will get odd looks. I got myself on a bus to a town supposedly good for visiting the park from and met an old lady who took me under her wing and insisted I stay with her. I decided she wasn’t going to rob or mortally wound me so I took up her offer and had a grand tour of her little town. Hard as we tried though, all we could discover was that the bus dropped you 4km from the park (not a happy prospect when you have 20kgs balanced between your front and back). There were no cars for hire and a taxi was pretty expensive. So I got back on the bus and headed back to Asuncion the next day.

I then thought I would head further south to view the old Jesuit missions from Encarnacion, the border town with Argentina. Once again I was sat next to an overfriendly Paraguayan. Assuming that this was the nature of the people and trying to be less uptight, I chatted to him until he just would not stop. At this point I complained of needing some air and moved to the front of the bus. And he followed me. I then took out my music, hint, hint, and he asked me (yes, he really did!!) if he could listen too. Yes, you may as well lay me down as a carpet and walk all over me, but really, what else could I say? And then we played his music. At this point, honestly, listening to dance hits from 1994 (including the classics “Everybody dance now”, “Can’t touch this” and the completely unedited version of “Don’t want no short…”) was better than having to answer his too-nosey questions about where I was going, etc. Later, the bus conductor warned me he would try and rob me later (so my stranger danger radar isn’t too oversensitive after all) and then I got paranoid that the conductor was in on it too and so got away from the bus station as fast as I could and then left town the next day.

Out of Paraguay and into cheaper, more comfortable and definitely easier Argentina I gave the missions a skip altogether and have landed up in Puerto Iguazu, on the brink of the magical falls.

I see the moon and the moon sees me...

This area of Chile (north of Valparaiso) is one of the best places for star gazing. It has 300 clear night skies a year. Our first night in La Serena, we joined a tour for a visit to one of the observatories nearby. I have honestly never been on such an impressive, mind-blowing tour ever. It was amazing! I guess it has a head start in being about the galaxy and the universe and things more than my head can contain, but it was excellent. Apart from all the usual information you get, we could see Saturn, with its ring (it looks just like I would draw it), Jupiter with its moons and the Moon itself, with all its craters. I found it really interesting to hear about the constellations from a Chilean perspective too. What we see as Scorpio is the same as the monkey one can see in the Nazca lines, hanging from the Milky Way with his tail. There’s also a big llama and a bay llama up there. I left feeling very small on my little planet earth.

From inspecting the moon in detail, we inspected it from the Luna valley – back to San Pedro de Atacama. All logic seemed to leave me in this tiny pueblo and I found myself back at the hostel I promised I’d never return to. Granted, it is the cheapest option in town but it didn’t have hot water, the bathroom was flooded, my sheets were dirty and the people were super unfriendly. That’s hostel Florida. Don’t go there. We changed after two nights, needless to say. Sarah and I also found ourselves, once again against all logic, on an 8 hour horse ride. 8 hours! Across the desert. Poor horses and poor us. In fact, it was so painful that after 4 hours we bailed and caught a lift back into town with a tour bus from the Luna valley. Gees, what were we thinking?? We did go back to the Luna valley though at a later stage in a much more sensible car and once again it was a sight to behold and this time I was there in time for the sunset. Wow.

After being in San Pedro rather longer than we expected (there are only 3 buses a week to Argentina), Sarah joined a tour to the salt pans in Bolivia and I hopped on a bus back to Salta, Argentina, one of the first places I visited when I arrived on this continent. I already miss travelling with Sarah; she’s a brilliant travel partner. But I am also quite enjoying travelling on my own for a little bit. I love Salta, it’s such a tranquilo town and warm and sunny and I`ve found a great hostel, which is always a bonus. I am leaving tomorrow though and heading for Paraguay in search of squeezing in just a few more adventures before returning home. Watch this space.

Inspiration for a poet

On our way then, to Valparaiso, which was also raining but a gorgeously kooky little seaside town. It’s dirty and old and trying to avoid the dog poo in the streets was like trying to avoid the puddles in Pucon. But it’s full of colour and street art, and music and books and really, really, really good hot chocolate. Everything is built on hills so you take little funiculars up and down them all the time and you have great views of the port with its big naval ships and little fishing boats all rocking and rolling in the choppy sea.

This town has the spirit of poets. For those of you who have read Pablo Neruda´s poems, well he´s from here (thank you Sarah for introducing us). Somehow the city seems to get under your skin and before you know it you’ve chosen your favourite coffee shop, where you’d go book shopping and where your house might be one day if you ever found your way back there.

Sarah came over to Chile I think pretty much because of Neruda and there was one particular house of his that she wanted to see. So off we set one day in search of his inspiration. Our efforts were rewarded with the news that we had gone in completely the opposite direction, that the town we were looking for was 85km away and that his house was in fact shut for renovations as it was off-season. Dammit. Everything in Chile seems to shut in winter! However, not being ones so easily deterred, we decided to take a bus the following day to explore the town and maybe convince someone, with tears and grovelling, to let us in for a little peek. Isla Negra is pretty much a one street town but it has the most beautiful, dramatic beach covered in little pink and blue shells and big rocks. And we had it all to ourselves. At last, a bonus for being somewhere at the wrong time of year. The house was not open and they weren’t going to open it for us but we could see loads of it from the outside anyway. And honestly, having this little slice of wild sea and sand to ourselves made up for more than the inside of anyone’s house could offer.

Our task for Valparaiso and indeed Chile accomplished, we made our way further up and out and found ourselves, once again on the coast, in La Serena. This town is not really very exciting (except when you make it exciting by sneaking in and out of the Japanese gardens without paying) but it is a gateway for the more interesting inland filled with pisco distilleries and telescopes for viewing the night skies.

Pisco is a type of very strong wine, made from very sweet grapes. Perhaps the best description of it is as a young brandy. In Chile and Peru it is usually served in a cocktail with lime as “Pisco Sours” (very nice, by the way, but the pure stuff will kill any disease floating around your blood stream I am sure). Pisco Elqui is a town in the Elqui valley that is renowned for the pisco it produces and is really good for tours and information regarding this specialty. It also has a restaurant that serves really good lasagne :)

Finding Sarah

...or a lot of rain and chocolate

Mendoza was catch up time. We spent our days there visiting the vineyards (which are not as pretty as Cape Towns but still offer very good wine and liqueurs) and going to a SPA! How exciting! A whole day of hydro-massages, hot water, clay packs and massages, not to mention the most delicious and abundant buffet lunch. I felt like a new person after such luxury. The massage was so good that I fell into a blissful sleep half way through.

After Mendoza, we headed down south to the ski town of Bariloche. Being post-summer and pre-ski season, there was a lot that was shut, not-so-good weather and a lot of toe-numbing cold. This was all made up for, however, with the fact that this town makes chocolate. Seriously, wherever you look there are chocolate shops and little factories. I was in heaven! It really didn’t matter what the weather was doing outside except that it gave us a good excuse to be inside drinking hot chocolate (which was quite literally only-just-liquid chocolate) and eating truffles. It’s a good thing we didn’t stay there too long. And we did, in all fairness to ourselves, make it on a very nice walk around some nearby, rather spectacular lakes. Bariloche is very different from where I have been so far. It’s a bit like a little European ski town (from what I gather). Very pristine. Very beautiful, just not very wild.I had a hard time deciding whether to go further south to the glaciers, or give in to the cold and head a little further north. I’m afraid that I wimped out on this one: I was seriously worried that I might lose a toe or two to frostbite. Hence we went on our way back across to Chile in search of a volcano to climb. Pucon is a cute little town severely overpriced and built, I am sure, solely for the adventurous tourist. It also has very cosy hostels, which was great considering that it rained non-stop the entire day and a half we were there. No volcanoes for us this time, but lots of average TV watching and some Spanish homework.

down the Panamericano

After 2 deliciously decadent nights in the aforementioned hostel and a quick exploration of Guayaquil (which revealed the brighter, not so scary side of this notorious city) we headed back to Cuenca, back home.
Our last bus ride together, our last bus ride through the banana plantations and mountains of Ecuador, filled with the joyous tunes of our favourite regaton tunes.

For me, going back to Cuenca was good closure. As any city does when you leave it for long enough, Cuenca had moved on. And though maybe it looked pretty much like we had left it and our best friends still had room for us on their floors, people had their own things going on and I realised that I too, was on my own agenda once more. It was still wonderful to see so many people I knew again, to be amidst friends in a familiar place. It was good to have one last chance to say good bye.

What was really hard for me was leaving Bec behind and I really felt quite lost without her as I got on my 3am bus to dreaded Tumbes to start my descent down to Chile and Argentina. In fact, I nearly gave up on trying to get down there at all and considered, for a fleeting moment, changing my plans to go north through Colombia, Venezuela and Brazil (it’s definitely on my “next time” list). But then I thought it best to stick to the plan and while it would have been a lot warmer up north, I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of travelling with Sarah.

A note on the buses i have encountered:
I really don´t mind buses. Usually I pass out in them or spend my time gazing out the window lost in wandering thoughts and happy day dreams. I used to get really excited when they have movies on them but lately I have been dreading the sound of the DVD machine opening and closing. Every single movie I watched all the way down the Panamericano (which was probably about 5 or 6) was the most violent movie you could find. We went from Dracula (which I admit could pass) to man-fighting, which is like dog fighting but between people. I am a very sensitive viewer, as I´m sure some of you will testify and I was completely traumatised. I tried cowering under blankets, blocking my ears, even meditating out the window ("ooh, look at the pretty sunset, look at the pretty sunset, look...") but nothing could block out the screams eminating from the television in front of me. Who chooses those movies anyway? There are kids on the buses!! (and people like me!) I need to find those buses where they serve you steak and champagne.


4 days, three traumatic busses, three border crossings and two flights and a little, rather disconcerting, culture shock later, I was in Stellenbosch (???), no actually Mendoza, walking through oak-lined roads, drinking red wine and eating Argentinean steak with Sarah while I caught up on everything that has happened back home in the last year that hasn’t managed yet to filter through the lines to me over on this continent.

The Galapogas

Bec and I nearly didn´t make it to the Galapogas. We found our hostel (after not a single cab driver knew where it was) and liked it so much we didn´t want to leave! Good sense prevailed, however, and we settled on spending a couple of nights there on our return.

Our rather little plane was completely packed and we spent the three hour flight guessing who would be on our tour and hoping it wouldn´t include the screaming 3 year old just behind us. It didn´t, but it did include the most uinlikely group of people ever. Bec and I were the youngest, by far. The rest were couples of varying degrees of age, friendliness and backgrounds.

When we arrived we were bustled from plane to bus to ferry to car without so much as an inkling to what we were supposed to be doing but soon we were adopted by a friendly guide and taken to meet Lonesome George, a very old and rather lonely (apparently) tortoise. Introductions completed, we were whisked off to our little sailing boat, The Encantada, which would be home for the next 5 days.

The first night was rough. So rough that Bec fell off the toilet in the middle of the night! I am not very good on small sailing vessels and this was difficult for me to stomach (the rocking, not Bec). In fact, we both felt so ill in the tiny cabin that we ´had to get straight onto our beds and lie very still in the hope that the world would stop moving. We didn´t even have time to put our PJs on or brush our teeth and were a little worried that a shower would be out of the question all week. Luckily for the other passengers, the weather calmed and we got used to the lull of a boat on the open waters of the Galapogas seas.

The next day dawned bright and sunny and full of promise (as any good day after a storm should) and we set out to explore our first island where we found a LOT of sea lions and a very deep cave. We also found an ancient post box holding letters posted by visitors to the island for years. The tradition is to check through them and if you find any from home or a place where you´re going, you´re supposed to pick it up and hand deliver it. So who knows, one of you may get a surprising knock on your door one day (though unlikely as there´s hardly anyone who reads these blogs that I´d trust to stay in one place for a decent amount of time!)

The Galapoagas Islands are a wonder. Think of all the strange animals you can, multiply them by thousands and that is what the islands look like. A colony of all the most bizarre animals in the world. You step out of your boat and onto the shore and you´ve already had to dodge a couple of hundred iguanas, bright red and blue crabs and a gazillion sea lions flopped on the sand.

One night we were sitting and chatting on the deck before supper when my eye was drawn to a lot of action that had begun in the water. I couldn´t work out what I was looking at for a long time, just bright flashes of light streaking in and out of the water. It was flying fish, going bazerk in the lights of the boat. Suddenly, bigger beings revealed the reason for the terror of these little wee fishes. they were being herded and chased by sea lions who were also, quite literally flying in and out of the water. It was just a brilliant display of speed, light and feasting.At one stage the fish were being chased straight toward the boat, which they flew into and were stunned - neat trick. As if this showdown wasn´t exciting enough, entering the scene came the sharks. These were only little sharks, not big enough to actually be chasing the sea lions (although I wouldn´t take my chances jumping into the water with them) but rather waiting for the sea lions to do all the work and then stealing their hard-earned fishy dinner. Just as the lights were turning off and the boat starting up it´s engine for the nights journey, along bobbed a turtle, just to complete the magic of the evening. Wow. I think spellbound is the word.

It´s hard for anything to get much better than that. But being able to dive in this fantastic place was a close second. I am a surprisingly nervous diver and wasn´t at all sure about this but my efforts were well rewarded deep down in the blue. It´s not every day you get to have a conversation with a sea lion, even if he is looking at you upside down as he "talks". On both my dives we were accompanied by these curious creatures. We also got to see a lot of sharks (reef and Galapogas), beautiful fish, sea turtles and even a spotted-eagle ray or two.

The Galapogas was, in short, educational and fascinating. It´s like a place stuck back in time somewhere, covered in mini dinosaurs and volcanic rock. If you ever get the chance...

¡Hola Chile!

Ooh, I haven´t been to this country yet! Everything´s brand new and totally different all over again. Suddenly everything costs a lot more. BUT, for your money, you get a more temperate climate (very important at this stage), actual oxygen in the air you breathe, and traffic signs that actually have a say in what the traffic does. Am I still in South America? Bec and I actually had to be waved across the street by a car that stopped at a pedestrian crossing and even then we weren´t sure if he really menat it or was waiting, a gleam in his eye, foot inches above the accelerator...

San Pedro de Atacama was hot and dusty and just lovely. We dropped so fast from the salt pans to this oasis of a pueblo that my ears were blocked for ages and I got a slight decompression headache. All good though. At that stage I would endure just about anything to defrost my toes. San Pedro is very tourist-oriented (ie. pretty expensive) but it is lovely - apart from the man at our hostal (don´t go there). We were really just passing through and recovering from our salt flats tour for a couple of days but we still managed to fit in a quick tour to the Valle de Luna, or Valley of the Moon. Our timing, with the full moon rising that night, couldn´t have been better. It´s a valley of bizarre landscape covered in a light dusting of salt that turns pink in the setting sun. I´m not sure if it´s named for its weird surfaces or for its spectacular moonrise views but its a sight to behold and a fun place to play with your camera. And really, what could be better than sipping pisco sours with a bunch of friends under a full moon and being WARM at the same time :) aaahh.

From San Pedro de A. we went our seperate ways: Morgan to Salta (and onwards where she would meet Sarah but not know it), Tina and Pud down south, and Bec y yo over to Arica, where we would start our marathon journey all the way up Peru and back to Ecuador. Our day in Arica (the border town of Chile and Peru) proved eventful as our adventurous wonderings were rewarded with the discovery of sea lions (a first for Bec), and pelicans (a first for me) all living happily together in the local harbour. If you can get into this movie, its pretty funny. The soundtrack is courtesy of some men who were working on a boat in the midst of this beastly display. *temporarily unavailable but working on it - any tips would be welcomed...

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