The four or five readers of our blog might be wondering if we fell off the face of the earth... well we didn´t. We are in Quito now, getting ready to spend our last night in South America at an inter-city soccer match between Quito´s two biggest clubs (Liga and Nacional).
Let me try to hit you with a few of the highlights since our last posting.
- Hiking through the Peruvian Andes and making camp in a cloud at 14,000 feet (it was a little cold at night).
- Eating some of the best food of the trip prepared by our camp chef Claudio with two burners and one cutting board in a tent. After the first day he mixed up the traditional Peruvian fair with won tons and spaghetti bolognese.
- Waking up at 4:45AM to watch the sun rise over Machu Picchu... unfortunately the city was completely covered in a cloud and we couldn´t see more than 10 feet, but watching the clouds part to reveal incredible ruins and breathtaking views was even more impressive than any sunrise could have been.
-Celebrating Phil´s 25th birthday back in Cuzco with shots of Pisco (liquor derived from sugar cane), roast spicy guinea pig, and brandy alpaca chops (the alpaca is highly recommended, guinea pig not so much).
-Avoiding disgruntled Peruvian workers blocking the roads the day we flew, and the airport the day we took a bus.
-The appearance of Juan "el capitan" Pearson in Quito who managed took the Quito Hilton casino for all it was worth with an incredible display of $2 blackjack skill.
I am missing a ton, but time is up...Felipe y Frijole will be back in DC on Friday... after one last night of sudamerican cerveza.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Llegamos a Peru
Since we head out tomorrow at 5:30 AM to begin our 4 day trek through the Andes, I figured I'd make a quick post. We arrived in Cuzco yesterday having flown from Santiago via Lima. All things considered (mainly, the continent we currently inhabit), it went very smoothly, as we only arrived about 45 minutes late. Cuzco, like the last 3 stops we've made, is currently experiencing an exceptionally cold streak. Fortunately, that means its about 50 during the day and 35-40 at night. We're expecting some chilly nights while we camp out tomorrow and Wednesday night.
The hike meandered through the Sacred Valley and culminates in a tiny village whose name I can't remember. Then we take a short train ride to Aguas Calientes, where we spent one night in a hostel, before waking up before dawn to beat the tourists to Macchu Picchu. After taking the gringo train back to Cuzco, we have 2 more nights in rowdy Cuzco (including my 25th birfday).
So far, the highlights of Cuzco have been eating alpaca (very tasty and lean), trying and failing to order roasted cuy (to be attempted again tonight), and the amazing hospitality of Frijole's family friend/travel agent extraordinaire Cheryl.
Expect some awe-inspired posts on July 19th or 20th after the trek.
-Felipe
The hike meandered through the Sacred Valley and culminates in a tiny village whose name I can't remember. Then we take a short train ride to Aguas Calientes, where we spent one night in a hostel, before waking up before dawn to beat the tourists to Macchu Picchu. After taking the gringo train back to Cuzco, we have 2 more nights in rowdy Cuzco (including my 25th birfday).
So far, the highlights of Cuzco have been eating alpaca (very tasty and lean), trying and failing to order roasted cuy (to be attempted again tonight), and the amazing hospitality of Frijole's family friend/travel agent extraordinaire Cheryl.
Expect some awe-inspired posts on July 19th or 20th after the trek.
-Felipe
Saturday, July 14, 2007
A Few Other Characters in This Travelling Circus Show
Although Frijole and I are the main characters in this adventure, there are many others we've met along the way who deserve a little blogspace. Here are a few:
Name: Alex Triantaphyllis
Alias(es): The Greek, El Griego
How we met: Alex went to St. John's and I learned from his Mom at this past MS150 that he's getting a masters in Buenos Aires for the year.
Claim(s) to Fame: Will go down in history as the man who Introduced me to fernet; Fondness for making "Rock On!" type gestures at Argentine dance clubs; Playing a major role in making sure our BA clubbing experiences made it to "that next level."
Name: Flore Franck
How we met: Worked with Bean, was Georgetown Class of 2006, is Argentine and currently lives outside BA
Claim(s) to Fame: Taking unsuspecting Gringo visitors to popular BA clubs located under a bridge near a dark lake ringed by transvestite hookers; Being an excellent native tour guide.
Name: Deb and Erica
Alias(es): Deberica
How we met: Deb is a high school friend of a Georgetown friend of Frijole and Felipe; Erica is Deb's former coworker; Deberica is on a similar South American adventure and we overlapped in Rio.
Claim(s) to Fame: Meeting very forward Brazilian guys who say amazing things like "When I want something, I get it....."; Having experienced, along with Felipe and Frijole, the worst "English Speaking" tour guide in history; Having experienced, alongside and because of Felipe and Frijole, possibly the worst samba/forró dancing in history.
Name: Wilson Griffin and Friends
Alias(es): The guys staying at the hostel at the end of Gringo Alley
How we met: Will is the younger brother of Elizabeth Griffin, a Georgetown friend of Felipe and Frijole; Will is travelling around the continent with 2 friends and, unbeknownst to all parties, was staying in a hostel 40 feet from ours in Rio.
Claim(s) to Fame: Sharing the amazing coincidence of staying 40 feet away from us and being on the same sidewalk walking to Ipanema beach at 1:00 PM on Thursday July 5; Having ridiculous beards; Serving cheap yet surprisingly potable Brazilian hooch called cachaça to us; getting into a samba club for free by flirting with the transvestite bouncer.
Well, these just get us up through Rio. Expect more tales and characters from the last week, too. Chile has been cold, cloudy, and relatively uneventful. Tomorrow we go to Cuzco where we expect lots of gringos and lost, but found Inca cities!
Name: Alex Triantaphyllis
Alias(es): The Greek, El Griego
How we met: Alex went to St. John's and I learned from his Mom at this past MS150 that he's getting a masters in Buenos Aires for the year.
Claim(s) to Fame: Will go down in history as the man who Introduced me to fernet; Fondness for making "Rock On!" type gestures at Argentine dance clubs; Playing a major role in making sure our BA clubbing experiences made it to "that next level."
Name: Flore Franck
How we met: Worked with Bean, was Georgetown Class of 2006, is Argentine and currently lives outside BA
Claim(s) to Fame: Taking unsuspecting Gringo visitors to popular BA clubs located under a bridge near a dark lake ringed by transvestite hookers; Being an excellent native tour guide.
Name: Deb and Erica
Alias(es): Deberica
How we met: Deb is a high school friend of a Georgetown friend of Frijole and Felipe; Erica is Deb's former coworker; Deberica is on a similar South American adventure and we overlapped in Rio.
Claim(s) to Fame: Meeting very forward Brazilian guys who say amazing things like "When I want something, I get it....."; Having experienced, along with Felipe and Frijole, the worst "English Speaking" tour guide in history; Having experienced, alongside and because of Felipe and Frijole, possibly the worst samba/forró dancing in history.
Name: Wilson Griffin and Friends
Alias(es): The guys staying at the hostel at the end of Gringo Alley
How we met: Will is the younger brother of Elizabeth Griffin, a Georgetown friend of Felipe and Frijole; Will is travelling around the continent with 2 friends and, unbeknownst to all parties, was staying in a hostel 40 feet from ours in Rio.
Claim(s) to Fame: Sharing the amazing coincidence of staying 40 feet away from us and being on the same sidewalk walking to Ipanema beach at 1:00 PM on Thursday July 5; Having ridiculous beards; Serving cheap yet surprisingly potable Brazilian hooch called cachaça to us; getting into a samba club for free by flirting with the transvestite bouncer.
Well, these just get us up through Rio. Expect more tales and characters from the last week, too. Chile has been cold, cloudy, and relatively uneventful. Tomorrow we go to Cuzco where we expect lots of gringos and lost, but found Inca cities!
Coffee With Legs
With only one day in Santiago, it being impossible to see the whole city, and having had our share of bad or weird museums on this trip, we made it our goal today to have one uniquely Chilean cultural experience. There are few things that I like more than coffee, so the choice seemed pretty obvious when we learned about "cafe con piernas" (coffee with legs). Coffee with legs is an exclusively Chilean phenomenon. It is a coffee bar (really, no alcohol served) where the waitresses wear skimpy clothing and show - well - their legs. We were expecting some kind of a cross between Hooters and Starbucks, so we decided that it would be a good way to start the day. The famous cafe we had been looking for had shut down last year, but a new cafe had opened in it´s place.
What we found when we opened the door (at about noon on a Saturday) did not bear any relation whatsoever to a Hooters or a Starbucks. In fact, the cafe bore a striking resemblance to a strip club (I saw one in a movie once). Neon lights lit the otherwise dark room, mirrors lined the wall and techno played in the background. The "women" (only one of them was definitely a woman) stood in the middle serving coffee. Her attire made Hooters girls look conservative.
According to some, the cafes are part of Chile´s revolt against a strict catholic culture and repressive government... They are open exclusively during the day, serve only coffee, and are frequented by businessmen.
We each ordered espresso, having no idea what exorbitant amount our coffee would cost. The coffee was actually decent (although they put sugar in without asking). We sipped the coffee while we looked around and watched woman/man/beast employee cannoodle with some clients.
When we went to pay for our coffee with legs, we were mentally prepared to drop a hefty sum, but the total came to less than $3 U.S. Not bad for two espressos...
All in all, a very bizarre experience...perhaps the reason it has remained uniquely Chilean.
What we found when we opened the door (at about noon on a Saturday) did not bear any relation whatsoever to a Hooters or a Starbucks. In fact, the cafe bore a striking resemblance to a strip club (I saw one in a movie once). Neon lights lit the otherwise dark room, mirrors lined the wall and techno played in the background. The "women" (only one of them was definitely a woman) stood in the middle serving coffee. Her attire made Hooters girls look conservative.
According to some, the cafes are part of Chile´s revolt against a strict catholic culture and repressive government... They are open exclusively during the day, serve only coffee, and are frequented by businessmen.
We each ordered espresso, having no idea what exorbitant amount our coffee would cost. The coffee was actually decent (although they put sugar in without asking). We sipped the coffee while we looked around and watched woman/man/beast employee cannoodle with some clients.
When we went to pay for our coffee with legs, we were mentally prepared to drop a hefty sum, but the total came to less than $3 U.S. Not bad for two espressos...
All in all, a very bizarre experience...perhaps the reason it has remained uniquely Chilean.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Paulo
Of all the people I know, or at least the ones with which my travelling companion has corresponded twice via email, Paulo definitely seemed like the guy with which I should jump off of a 1700 foot mountain in Rio de Janeiro. He owned our well-run hostel and came recommended by both the guide book AND Ryan Condon. Convincing (deluding?) myself of Paulo's ability and invincibility was the most important part of deciding to go hang gliding in Rio de Janeiro.
Frijole and I had discussed going hang gliding before even leaving DC and we had scheduled the jump a week ago, but I was not fully ready to make the leap until I got a bird's eye view of Rio from base of the famous Christ Redeemer statue. It may have been His divine spirit or his bird-like pose or simply the stunning landscape of the city. In any event, I was sold. The flight was scheduled for the next morning at 11:00 am.
That night, Frijole and I took it easy (not a simple task in party-crazy Rio). The thought of flying hungover and regurgitating a gift onto a favella 1500 feet below seemed unpleasant. 11:00 came quickly, despite some nervous sleep. Unfortunately Paulo said the winds weren`t right. We were disappointed, but obviously did not question his decision. We were told to check again at 1:00. Two hours later, the winds hadn`t changed, so we made plans to do other activities. Suddenly (and it really was surprising!), we were told to get ready. The winds had changed and the driver was on his way to pick us up. There was just enough time to grab a Brazilian pastry thingy next door and change clothes. No time to change our minds. No need to, though, because Paulo is the best and our American friends had flown with him 3 days before.
The ride to the mountain took about 20 minutes. We met our pilots, and neither was Paulo. It was ok, though, because they worked with Paulo, and Paulo only hires the best, probably. Frijole's pilot had 12 years of experience. My pilot, Marco joked that he he'd been flying for 2 days. I decided not to ask again for the real answer. Marco told me the 3 things I absolutely needed to do to ensure a safe take-off: NEVER stop running on the platform, stand up straight while going down the ramp, and look at the horizon while you run.
Paulo was at the staging area preparing to fly with someone else. He shared my enthusiasm while shaking hands and remembered Frijole's name from the emails. Paulo is a cool dude.
There were about fifteen minutes of preparation, then about ten minutes of waiting. When somebody decided the winds were right, Paulo and his tandem passenger ran down the ramp. Ten seconds later, Frijole took flight. It appeared successful. Marco quickly confirmed that I was committed to running without stopping, counted down from three, and took off with me at his side.
The flight lasted ten minutes. When we landed on the beach, my cheeks hurt. When the adrenaline wore off, I realized it was because humans aren't conditioned to grin continuously for ten minutes.
You should try hang gliding because flying is amazing. You should go to Rio because it's beautiful. And you should do the two of them together because Paulo is the best.
Frijole and I had discussed going hang gliding before even leaving DC and we had scheduled the jump a week ago, but I was not fully ready to make the leap until I got a bird's eye view of Rio from base of the famous Christ Redeemer statue. It may have been His divine spirit or his bird-like pose or simply the stunning landscape of the city. In any event, I was sold. The flight was scheduled for the next morning at 11:00 am.
That night, Frijole and I took it easy (not a simple task in party-crazy Rio). The thought of flying hungover and regurgitating a gift onto a favella 1500 feet below seemed unpleasant. 11:00 came quickly, despite some nervous sleep. Unfortunately Paulo said the winds weren`t right. We were disappointed, but obviously did not question his decision. We were told to check again at 1:00. Two hours later, the winds hadn`t changed, so we made plans to do other activities. Suddenly (and it really was surprising!), we were told to get ready. The winds had changed and the driver was on his way to pick us up. There was just enough time to grab a Brazilian pastry thingy next door and change clothes. No time to change our minds. No need to, though, because Paulo is the best and our American friends had flown with him 3 days before.
The ride to the mountain took about 20 minutes. We met our pilots, and neither was Paulo. It was ok, though, because they worked with Paulo, and Paulo only hires the best, probably. Frijole's pilot had 12 years of experience. My pilot, Marco joked that he he'd been flying for 2 days. I decided not to ask again for the real answer. Marco told me the 3 things I absolutely needed to do to ensure a safe take-off: NEVER stop running on the platform, stand up straight while going down the ramp, and look at the horizon while you run.
Paulo was at the staging area preparing to fly with someone else. He shared my enthusiasm while shaking hands and remembered Frijole's name from the emails. Paulo is a cool dude.
There were about fifteen minutes of preparation, then about ten minutes of waiting. When somebody decided the winds were right, Paulo and his tandem passenger ran down the ramp. Ten seconds later, Frijole took flight. It appeared successful. Marco quickly confirmed that I was committed to running without stopping, counted down from three, and took off with me at his side.
The flight lasted ten minutes. When we landed on the beach, my cheeks hurt. When the adrenaline wore off, I realized it was because humans aren't conditioned to grin continuously for ten minutes.
You should try hang gliding because flying is amazing. You should go to Rio because it's beautiful. And you should do the two of them together because Paulo is the best.
Slum Tourism
Since it's snowing today in Buenos Aires for the first time since 1918 and our bodies are still in shock from the transition back from sunny Rio De Janeiro, we thought it made sense to spend a little time indoors doing a blog post or two.
Rio is a breathtaking city. It´s hard to imagine how sky scrapers and bland buildings could compliment mountains and forest meeting white sand beach, but somehow that happens in Rio. We saw some incredible views hang gliding over the city, danced samba (OK we tried), drank coconut milk straight out of coconuts on the beach, and saw our fair share of beautiful women.
When I first heard about favella tours from another traveller we met, I was pretty confused. For a fairly steep fee, guides would take tourists into several favellas, famous slums that developed on the hills of Rio where the poor, without access to land, developed makeshift homes. Today, the favellas are famous for crime and drug lords, and function almost as cities within cities.
Just when you thought you had heard of everything...slum tourism
Since the advertisement for the tour said "not creepy or voyeuristic," I knew it couldn't be creepy or voyeuristic, and I was as much fascinated to see how exactly slum tourism operated as I was to see the favellas. I justified the relatively high cost since the profits went to fund an after school program in one of the favellas.
One of the strangest aspects of the favellas is that many of them neighbor the wealthiest communities in Rio. The last house before the entrance to the Rocinha favella is the home of multi-millionare movie director Walter Salles (Motorcycle Diaries).
Rocinha is a city within a city - poulation 20,000. We drove by a police car at the entrance and the guide explained that the police stayed just outside the favellas always, and, if they entered, violence usually followed between the drug lords who ran the favella and the police. He also explained that only two types of violence occured in the favella, between drug lords and police and between different drug lords. Other violence was not permitted, not by the police who never moved beyond the entrance provided they continued to receive their monthly commission, but by the drug lords who knew that crime in the favella (other than their own) was bad for business.
We were allowed to walk around briefly on the streets at a kind of mini crafts market, and were then taken to the terrace of an abandoned building which afforded a wide view of nearly the entire favella. From their we were told the details of the drug operation and chain of command of organized crime in the favella, how it impacted normal residents everyday lives, and the complex relations between the drug lords and the government (who have secretive agreements arranged through intermediaries).
After the abandoned building, we were allowed about five minutes to wander around the commercial center of the favella, but told not to take pictures, because drug deals were frequently going on in the markets and drug dealers, who always carried guns, did not appreciate photos. As stark as the contrast was from the rest of Rio (drug dealers working in the open, whole dead chickens and other animals hanging from carts, dirty bars and stands, and oddly shaped makeshift building), I couldn't help but feel that we had been taken to one of the more prosperous favellas in Rio. Conditions didn't seem as difficult or filthy as I had heard them described. I posed that question to the guide who sidestepped it several times before I stopped asking.
Next, we were ushered back into the van and taken to a second favella, shown the after school program that the tours support and allowed to meet a few of the children. Then we went for a longer walking tour of this favella (one which was much safer because it was one of the few in Rio where the drug lords didn't operate). The narrow and steep streets were fairly incredible to see. At one point I thought we were on a stair well inside a building and I looked to my left and saw a street sign.
It's bizarre to think that in the middle of a major city, these slums can continue to exist controlled by drug lords. Even more bizarre, my guide seemed to feel like it was almost OK, and pointed out some of the positives of the complex and secretive relationship between the government and the drug lords (stability and low crime rate among citizens of the favella).
A different experience... and a little creepy and voyeuristic unlike the promise of the advertisement, but maybe slum tourism is the next big thing for the jaded traveller...
Rio is a breathtaking city. It´s hard to imagine how sky scrapers and bland buildings could compliment mountains and forest meeting white sand beach, but somehow that happens in Rio. We saw some incredible views hang gliding over the city, danced samba (OK we tried), drank coconut milk straight out of coconuts on the beach, and saw our fair share of beautiful women.
When I first heard about favella tours from another traveller we met, I was pretty confused. For a fairly steep fee, guides would take tourists into several favellas, famous slums that developed on the hills of Rio where the poor, without access to land, developed makeshift homes. Today, the favellas are famous for crime and drug lords, and function almost as cities within cities.
Just when you thought you had heard of everything...slum tourism
Since the advertisement for the tour said "not creepy or voyeuristic," I knew it couldn't be creepy or voyeuristic, and I was as much fascinated to see how exactly slum tourism operated as I was to see the favellas. I justified the relatively high cost since the profits went to fund an after school program in one of the favellas.
One of the strangest aspects of the favellas is that many of them neighbor the wealthiest communities in Rio. The last house before the entrance to the Rocinha favella is the home of multi-millionare movie director Walter Salles (Motorcycle Diaries).
Rocinha is a city within a city - poulation 20,000. We drove by a police car at the entrance and the guide explained that the police stayed just outside the favellas always, and, if they entered, violence usually followed between the drug lords who ran the favella and the police. He also explained that only two types of violence occured in the favella, between drug lords and police and between different drug lords. Other violence was not permitted, not by the police who never moved beyond the entrance provided they continued to receive their monthly commission, but by the drug lords who knew that crime in the favella (other than their own) was bad for business.
We were allowed to walk around briefly on the streets at a kind of mini crafts market, and were then taken to the terrace of an abandoned building which afforded a wide view of nearly the entire favella. From their we were told the details of the drug operation and chain of command of organized crime in the favella, how it impacted normal residents everyday lives, and the complex relations between the drug lords and the government (who have secretive agreements arranged through intermediaries).
After the abandoned building, we were allowed about five minutes to wander around the commercial center of the favella, but told not to take pictures, because drug deals were frequently going on in the markets and drug dealers, who always carried guns, did not appreciate photos. As stark as the contrast was from the rest of Rio (drug dealers working in the open, whole dead chickens and other animals hanging from carts, dirty bars and stands, and oddly shaped makeshift building), I couldn't help but feel that we had been taken to one of the more prosperous favellas in Rio. Conditions didn't seem as difficult or filthy as I had heard them described. I posed that question to the guide who sidestepped it several times before I stopped asking.
Next, we were ushered back into the van and taken to a second favella, shown the after school program that the tours support and allowed to meet a few of the children. Then we went for a longer walking tour of this favella (one which was much safer because it was one of the few in Rio where the drug lords didn't operate). The narrow and steep streets were fairly incredible to see. At one point I thought we were on a stair well inside a building and I looked to my left and saw a street sign.
It's bizarre to think that in the middle of a major city, these slums can continue to exist controlled by drug lords. Even more bizarre, my guide seemed to feel like it was almost OK, and pointed out some of the positives of the complex and secretive relationship between the government and the drug lords (stability and low crime rate among citizens of the favella).
A different experience... and a little creepy and voyeuristic unlike the promise of the advertisement, but maybe slum tourism is the next big thing for the jaded traveller...
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Not My Cup of Mate
The universal beverage in Argentina and Uruguay is called Mate. It's a type of bitter tea made from the Yerba plant. It is mixed directly with hot water in a small bowl and sucked through a straw that contains a tea filter. We have been waiting to try it for nearly a week since, almost every store worker, bus rider or cab driver can be seen holding their Mate bowl. The only problem (from a tourist point of view) is that it isn't served in cafes or restaurants.
Yesterday, we visited Colonia, Uruguay - wanting a change from Buenos Aires for a day. Colonia is an old Portugese colonial town and smuggling center highly recommended by our Argentine tour guides (Flore and Gironimo) and was only a ferry ride from Buenos Aires. The town was nice, and the architecture interesting. We were able to climb a light house set inside the ruins of an old castle - from the top you can supposedly see Buenos Aires, but the fog prevented that.
Since mate was even more ubiquitous in Uruguay, I decided it was finally time to try it. I purchased a mate bowl, straw and about a pound of Mate (the smallest amount they sell) from a local convenience store and on the ferry ride back, was able to convince the cafeteria working to microwave a cup of water for me. I did my best to mimic what I had seen Argentines do, and poured the tea leaves into my bowl...
It was disgusting. Absolutely gross. I threw away my newly acquired Mate tools last night, not wanting to bother taking up the space in my backpack...
Today is the fourth of July, which, if the fog around Ezezia International Airport doesn't lift soon, we might be spending in the airport.
Hopefully, we will be in Rio tonight for the 4f.
Happy fourth of July.
Yesterday, we visited Colonia, Uruguay - wanting a change from Buenos Aires for a day. Colonia is an old Portugese colonial town and smuggling center highly recommended by our Argentine tour guides (Flore and Gironimo) and was only a ferry ride from Buenos Aires. The town was nice, and the architecture interesting. We were able to climb a light house set inside the ruins of an old castle - from the top you can supposedly see Buenos Aires, but the fog prevented that.
Since mate was even more ubiquitous in Uruguay, I decided it was finally time to try it. I purchased a mate bowl, straw and about a pound of Mate (the smallest amount they sell) from a local convenience store and on the ferry ride back, was able to convince the cafeteria working to microwave a cup of water for me. I did my best to mimic what I had seen Argentines do, and poured the tea leaves into my bowl...
It was disgusting. Absolutely gross. I threw away my newly acquired Mate tools last night, not wanting to bother taking up the space in my backpack...
Today is the fourth of July, which, if the fog around Ezezia International Airport doesn't lift soon, we might be spending in the airport.
Hopefully, we will be in Rio tonight for the 4f.
Happy fourth of July.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)