"Valle del Colca" & Chivay, Peru

Yep - it's only a 2,000 meter drop from beneath our feet here at Colca Canyon - yes that's roughly a 6,000 ft drop and we're sitting on the edge. We don't have much to worry about though because we came to this point of the canyon from Chivay to watch the magnificent flight of the Condors and we're pretty sure with their monstrous size they'll catch us if we fall. Their wing-span is up to 8 ft wide and you have to be at this point of Colca Canyon by 8:00 am in order to see them take off for the day. They live at the bottom of the canyon where nothing can bother them or their young. By 8:30 in the morning they're airborne and do not return until after dark. It's the only chance of seeing them up close and witnessing their beauty and elegance in flight. I had no idea how beautiful it would be to see them as they circle up from the bottom of this gorgeous canyon (which, at it's deepest point, is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon). The scenery alone brings such a peace that you practically long to be one of them gliding through the air. The Condors truly become Kings of the sky and almost seem to enjoy us observing them as they glide over our heads and cruise within a stones throw away exhibiting a confidence and assurance unseen in other creatures of the sky.



















On the way up the canyon to the "Mirador" or "Cruz del Condor" there are a few small villages in which the culture and people are nothing like what we have seen in our 7 prior months of travels in South America. The villages after Chivay are: Yanque, Achoma, Maca and then the tiny village of Pinchollo. Most the people here work in the fields producing a variety of different crops from wheat, barley, potatoes, onions, alfalfa, and countless other vegetables. Others produce all different types of hand crafts necessary for the region.



















What amazes me most is that the men and women in their 60's and 70's still get up every morning by 5:00 and are on their way to the endless fields of crop and farm by manual labor all day using only hand tools, pics, and shovels. They use their donkeys and bulls to pull what we know as to be the old fashioned plows - I'm talking 50 to 100 years ago. Vehicles are scarce so most the crop is wrapped in blankets and tied around their backs where they haul it for miles back to the villages and markets of each day hoping to sell what was harvested.





All the fields are separated by perfectly built rock walls and to utilize as much land and good soil as possible terraces are built throughout the entire valley climbing as high as possible in which crop will grow. Each level cultivates a different product. From a distance they seem almost as gigantic steps or an enormous amphitheater filling the valley. Most the terraces in the monstrous valley are still in place from the Inca’s construction some 500 plus years ago. It's truly remarkable!













The best way to get to and from each village is by a "colectivo" or bus. You can take a little unique taxi as well, but they cost more. The difference in these "colectivos" from what we're use to everywhere else in S.A. is these are old, well used vehicles such as the one we rode in - a small, old, Volkswagon van. You pay 1 "Sole" (Sol-eh) and wait in the little van until at least seven people are in it. This way it's enough money to be worth the drivers time taking you to the next village. The funny thing though, is that there can basically never be too many people in the little "colectivo." All along the road in route the driver will stop and pick up more people flagging him down. In the picture below we had just started and there were about 10 people including the driver. I had no idea what was in store. By the time we got to the next village we had 17 people smashed into this little, tiny, Volkswagon van. Hilarious!





In Chivay, where we stayed, we loved how inexpensive everything was - especially since we've been on a budget for this whole journey. We ate in the market (nearly every night) at these little restaurant booths that are set up and broken down each night. Our total bill each time was 9 soles (including tip) which equates to less than 3 dollars. Unbelievable! The other fantastic thing for us is that we found a very nice "Hospedaje" to sleep. We had a double bed, hot water, soap, towels, and even cable television with 3 English channels for only $10 per night! Seriously???!!! Awesome! Our room was where the windows are on the 3rd floor overlooking the market and city.







For Jenny's birthday we went on a horse ride with just the two of us and our guide Wilber. He took us all through the valley and around the canyon for spectacular views yet again. One of the neatest parts of the horse tour was when he took us to the ruins of Yanque - the original village some 800 years ago. It was so nuts to be walking through this village and learning how they survived close to 1,000 years ago. Many of the village's tombs have crumbled open as well due to earthquakes in which you can see the bones of entire families.













Chivay and the "Valle del Colca" is probably one of the neater places I've been. Viewing first hand the beauty and tranquility of this culture and landscape while witnessing how much different their way of life is compared to what we know was something I will never forget and will always cherish.

Destination Peru

Twenty-five hours, 3 buses and one car for the border crossing – we arrived in Peru – our last country on the list for this journey in South America. Wait a second – let’s rewind just a bit and describe the buses in getting here. We left San Pedro de Atacama, Chile (the Atacama Desert) at 8:45 pm. We arrived in Arica, Chile around 6:00 am after a looooong bus ride due to about 10 individuals that chose to party on the overnight bus drinking and smoking and making all kinds of noise. We have never experienced this on a bus in South America before. It was so annoying and frustrating – half the bus wanted to kill them for their lack of respect.

Upon arriving in Arica (the northern border of Chile with Peru) we had to find a transport across the border. As soon as we got off the bus and gathered our bags we were approached by a man insisting on taking us across the border to Tacna, Peru (the border town we had to get to for other bus lines and destinations in Peru). He took us to the company desk and they wanted 20 mil Chilean pesos (which is way too much we knew). They said the bus leaves in 5 minutes and there are no other buses until 4:30 pm (it’s now 6:00 am). We didn’t believe them as we knew there had to be other ways. So Jenny and I walked around the terminal until we found two ladies working a ticket booth for local colectivos (buses). We asked them how to get to Tacna and they said to just walk out the terminal about one block up and there we could find private cars for rent. They told us to wait till the sun came up though, because it’s really dangerous (for muggings) outside the terminal when it’s dark. When the sun came up I left Jenny in the terminal with all our stuff and walked over to discover all sorts of private car transports across the border to Tacna – for only $3 mil Chilean pesos! I went back grabbed Jenny and our things and we were on our way in a car with 3 other passengers. So much easier and faster too! So glad we listened to our intuition in how to get across the border otherwise we would have been totally ripped off!

The border crossing was pretty straight-forward. First we stopped at the Chilean side for our exit stamp, and then proceeded to the Peru side for our entrance stamp. It was nice to know this was the last time we’d have to go through that process for awhile being that Peru was our last visit on this trip. Once we arrived at the bus terminal in Tacna, we had to decide where we would go next. We had narrowed it down to two choices: we knew at some point we definitely wanted to go to Puno, which is the where you reach Lake Titicaca, but I (Aaron) had also been reading up on Colca Canyon near Chivay, Peru. If we were going to explore Colca Canyon (twice as deep as the Grand Canyon) we needed to go there first as it made most sense for beginning our route through Peru. Jenny was leaning towards Puno as we could go straight there from Tacna with out any bus changes or hassle. Something in me just had my eye set on Chivay though and my intuition was just saying, “go to Chivay, go to Chivay.”

The decision became quite easy after Jenny inquired about tickets to Puno. The bus for Puno left at 8:00 am and it was now 8:20. The next bus was not for several hours. That led me to ask about Chivay. The guy said we have 10 minutes to get on the next bus to Arequipa and from there we could get bus tickets to Chivay or Puno even. We looked at each other and knew that was the best option as we wouldn’t have to sit around in a border town bus terminal all day and it would also give us 5 more hours on the bus to read up in our guide book and decide which destination would be best for us. We opted for that and by the time I ran to get money from the ATM (as we had no Peru money yet) and got back it was 8:32 and we still had to buy the tickets and get across the street to where the buses depart. Once we had the tickets in hand the clerk grabbed one of our bags and basically ran out the door telling us to follow him. We made it across the street and saw a bus halfway in the street with a couple people (from the company) standing in front of the bus so it couldn’t move any more. We realized they were holding it for us. We ran up and a couple guys grabbed our bags and threw them underneath and basically shoved us in the door. As soon as we were in the bus it took off before we were even upstairs to our seats. We had made it though – relief!

Three hours into the ride I couldn’t help but notice the landscape as we were climbing in altitude and winding our way through mountains and canyons. It was hot, arid, and dry. We were in the Andes Mountains – only like I’ve never seen before – it was as if we were in the desert and you could just see for miles with no sign of wildlife. It seemed to be so desolate with only sand and huge mountains as far as you could see. We were wondering to ourselves – where in the heck are we??

Arriving in Arequipa (where the landscape had dramatically changed) was pretty amazing for the fact that the “Misty Volcano” overlooks the entire city and absolutely dominates the landscape and sky line. It towers close to 19,000 ft. I couldn’t believe how high and magnificent it was. Nothing near it even came close to its height leaving it the focal point and king of the sky. It was quite cloudy and we could only get peeks at the summit, but it was mesmerizing!

Ok, jumping forward a bit we were finally on the bus to Chivay (Jenny and I the only tourists and English speakers whatsoever) and only had 3 ½ hours until the destination. It was now 3:30 and we had left the prior night at 8:45 from San Pedro, Chile. Needless to say we were hungry, tired, and ready for some decent food and wanted to be done with the busses. After a short while on the bus we had both fallen asleep. I woke up around 7:00 to my ears completely clogged and finding it hard to breathe. We were in the tops of the Andes on a little highway and the temperature was dropping. I looked at Jen who had woken up as well and her ears were really hurting too. I was happy though knowing we only had around 30 minutes left or so. That’s when I looked up towards the front of the bus and through the windshield and saw the headlights beaming on the pavement lying before us for what seemed and eternity uphill. What really had me confused was how slow we were going – it was slow enough to the point I leaned over to Jenny and said, “I can walk faster than this.” It must be the altitude we gathered and the bus just doesn’t have much power… Well, not even 5 minutes later the bus starts making some funny noises and you can hear the driver grinding gears trying to keep the bus in motion. Seconds later his attempts failed and the bus came to a complete stop – instantly you hear everyone on the bus sigh and groan with disapproval and disappointment.

Jenny and I were pumped! We were now at the tops of the Andes in Peru on a little highway, it was freezing cold outside, no one on the bus spoke any English, we were hungry and tired, and had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. What an adventure in itself this was becoming. The passenger door opened and several of us got off to drain the lizard and stretch the legs – holy cow was it cold! The driver and two other guys were frantically working on the engine throwing tools here and there and barking orders to each other. Ten minutes or so later the engine was running! Yes!! We won’t have to sleep on the bus, or starve for the night!

Fast forwarding a bit and several miles up the road (and even higher at this point) the bus broke down for the 3rd time – only now it was snowing! The same routine took place and the engine finally started after about 30 minutes. Jenny and I were both praying we make it to Chivay. As soon as the bus started moving and driving down the road – as we had made it to the top when it broke down again – I was looking out the front windshield and soon saw my life flash before my eyes as the bus suddenly hit some black ice, fishtailed, and drifted across the lane and road heading straight for the edge of the highway to a several hundred foot drop! I grabbed the seat if front of me and Jenny’s leg and was about to yell “hold on” when the bus regained its traction as it nearly left the pavement... HOLY COW – JUST GET ME OFF THIS BUS!!

At this point, all we wanted was to be in Chivay in a nice warm bed. Around 10:00 pm we arrived and luckily for us a lady on the bus asked us if we had a place to stay and offered us a room at her small hotel. We took her up on the offer and were in a room within the hour. It was nice and cold in the room with a small window pane missing leaving us exposed to the nice frigid air of the Andes at night above 11,000 ft. Jenny and I jumped in bed with all our clothes on and snuggled together with 3 of their nice warm blankets made for this type of altitude and weather. We were asleep in minutes with the warmth of each other and the happiness of making it to our destination after 25 hours of non-stop travel. Tomorrow we would explore Chivay and see what it’s all about.

The Great Revealing

Day 0:
Me thinking: Man, the women here look so hot wearing those swimsuits where their butts hang out. I could never pull that off. I can’t believe everybody on this beach (except me) has an exposed butt right now. Bizarre.

AA: “I think those suits the girls wear here are really flattering on all body types. The suits at home are not as flattering because they squeeze your ass into them and then some always hangs out making it shabby looking.” Babe, you should try one on.”

Me thinking as we walk by a swimsuit shop later that night: Those suits look really cute on those mannequins. I wonder what I would look like in one. WOW – they are only $R20?

AA: “Babe, look – there’s those suits – you should try one on!”

Me: “OK, I’ll try one on, just for laughs.”

So I try on a suit and come out to show AA, trying to cover myself up because I feel so exposed. He claims that he likes it better than any of all my other suits and that I should definitely get it. I end up going home with a new Brazilian suit!

Side note – I think AA had ulterior motives. He really wanted to buy this shirt as a souvenir that also happened to be $R20. Therefore, to justify him buying the shirt, he wanted me to have also bought something.


Day 1:
Me: “I really don’t know if I can go out in public like this. I feel so fat in this suit – everything hangs out and plus all of my tans lines show. My butt is a pale shade of white and I think I’m going to blind everybody. I’m so embarrassed!”

AA: “Honey, you look good! Don’t worry everybody here is wearing one. You’ll fit in more than with your other suit. Make sure you put on sunscreen though - the full moon is definitely shining!”

We arrive at the beach and I applied ample amounts of 45 SPF to my stark white butt cheeks. The one thing I was liking about this suit is how my cute little butt tattoo (sorry mom) is nicely displayed, and I’ve never had the chance to show it off before. Other than that I can only describe how I felt on the beach as insecure. I felt like the entire world was looking at me and laughing at my butt: white with tan lines from my “grandma” suit, and fat bouncing all around. I was in one of two positions all day. One, laying down on my towel in the sandy beach area trying to be somewhat secluded from all the people, or Two, sitting in my chair halfway emerged in the water. I remember when I stood up out of my chair and immediately a mother with her little girl walked by, laughing out loud. I was certain they had to be laughing at me (the tourist trying to play Brazilian), haha. At the end of the day I quickly put on my dress cover up and felt so much better to had regained my vanity. I ended up with two bright red butt cheeks, despite all the sunscreen that I applied. Alright, I thought, at least I’m one step closer now to having a bronzed butt.


Day 2:
Me: “AA, does my butt look red?”

AA: YES!!!!

Me: “Oh well, I’m going to wear my new suit out again today.”

AA: “Put on lots of sunscreen!”

Our time at the beach was quickly coming to an end (only 2 days left) and for some reason I now felt it my personal mission before we leave to get tanned and look like a true Brazilian. This day I was feeling a little more comfortable in my new suit. For some reason it seemed so much more bearable having a bright red backside rather than it being white. On day 2 I even built up the courage to go for a walk on the beach! This might not seem like a big deal to you, but to a newly butt-revealing swimsuit wearer it is a big step! I was walking around in front of people, feeling so exposed. It helped to just look around and see that every other girl out there was also “exposed”. It wasn’t so bad walking in a crowd, walking by females, or passing somebody as they walked by. BUT… the worst was when somebody (a guy) was just sitting on the beach, people watching. The first time I walked passed a guy like this, I just kept repeating in my head “I’m so embarrassed, I’m so embarrassed, I’m so embarrassed, I am so embarrassed” as I passed by him. As I continued passing by guys the chanting in my mind shortened. By the 5th or 6th guy I was pretty proud of myself because I no longer had the continuous chant in my mind, instead it was just a single “I’m so embarrassed!” But the cool thing is what happened after walking for about 30 minutes. All the sudden, out of nowhere Fergie’s song came into my mind. For the rest of my walk these lyrics filled my mind: “What ya gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk? I’m gonna gonna get you drunk, get you love drunk off my humps. My humps my humps, my humps my humps my humps. My humps my humps my humps, my lovely lady lumps. Check it out.” Thanks for the confidence boost, Fergie!!!

Please note that this is NOT me in the photograph, but thanks for the flattery

Brazil

As I write this blog, I am here in Florianopolis, Brazil with a couple too many caiparinha’s (see AA’s earlier post from Oct.29 about these drinks) under my belt. I have downloaded Shakira’s first album (all in Spanish) to my ipod and then copied all the lyrics into a word document. I am jamming to Shakira, trying to sing along in Spanish, and for some reason AA – who is reading his book next to me – is not to amused with my singing. Hum…. I feel like my Spanish is really coming along nicely.

Brazil has been an adventure. From the frantic cab ride to make the flight here and every step along the way, it has been an experience. We have had numerous fun times here. For example, hiking to “Christ the Redeemer” in Rio de Janeiro was awesome. It was definitely a good hike – I sweated like crazy and both the guys sweated through at least one shirt. For those of you who don’t know, “sweating through a shirt” means that you sweat so much that taking off your shirt and ringing it dry only works a couple times. Then you break down and put on your new shirt, and repeat. Disgusting! The view at the top was totally worth it though.


We had two really nice days in Rio (one on the hike and the other on Ipanema beach) before the rain began. Our hostel – the Mango Tree hostel - was a great location. We had less than a 5 min. walk to Ipanema beach and then another 15 min walk to Copacobana beach. Both of these beaches have some type of black and white stones forming a walk path above the beach, which apparently is very famous. We now notice the design of this pathway on all the postcards, shirts, and sarongs that we see.


Our first day there (the one in the sun) was great. We rented some chairs and an umbrella and enjoyed the sun and beach. AA made friends very quickly with this guy that came up to us on the beach. He befriended AA (trying to understand as much Portuguese as possible) and quickly shook hands with AA. Immediately after that he grabbed a beer out of his cooler, opened it, and put it in AA’s hands. He continued his “friend” role-play while also asking for $3 Reis for the beer that was now opened and in AA’s hand. AA was not happy with his role-play and tried to hand the beer back to him, but he refused. So AA went to set the beer in the sand, not wanting to pay for it, or drink it. Luckily, just in time, the guy that rented us our chairs and umbrella showed up, and he ended up with a free beer. Funny how things work out. The beach was packed that day, full of amazing looking women in butt-bearing swimsuits as well as “sculpture” looking men in speedos. It was a fun day!


After spending the last three days of Rio stuck in the hostel due to the rain, we decided to bounce to Ilha Grande – a secluded island with no roads or cars. Rio was tough on our budget and we were looking forward to a more peaceful location. We ended up taking a van to some beach where there was a boat/ferry waiting to take us and 4 others to the island. The 4 others included 2 guys from Iran (in their 40’s) and 2 girls from Europe (about 20ish). As the trip went on we concluded that the 2 guys and the 2 girls must know each other because of the way they interacted, sharing snacks, chapstick, gum, etc. on the boat ride. This was later confirmed over drinks on the island we shared with the guys from Iran. The boat pulled up to a dock on the island, and not much more was there. Luckily there was a nice young lady there to greet us that did speak English. We asked her how to get to our hostel that we had reservations at, and she said just cross the bridge, walk on the beach 400m, walk through the shallow river of water, and then take a left on the only street and it will be on your left.


At this point on our travels we are traveling heavy. I have my suitcase (which rolls really well on pavement, not on the BEACH!), AA’s big backpack, a little backpack with most of our valuables, and a big bag with all of our camping gear – tent, sleeping pads & bags, cooking equipment, etc. So usually how it works is I carry the little backpack on my back, and pull my rolling suitcase (which is VERY heavy), while AA has on his big, heavy bag and is carrying the camping stuff in his arms. Well, the 2 guys from Iran quickly noticed that we were going to have problems carrying all of our gear on our journey to the hostel via the beach as there is no road or sidewalk. They were very nice and one of them ended up carrying the camping gear bag for us and the other switched off with AA carrying my heavy “rolling” suitcase that doesn’t roll when walking across the beach. I’m pretty sure what really ended up happening was I had the little bag, and the Iran guy would hold my big bag for less than 1 minute and then get tired and hand it back to AA who would walk about 5 min. with both big bags and then the cycle would repeat. Regardless, we finally found our hostel and made ourselves home in our bug infested, no a/c, musty, 4-person dorm shared with two girls from England. It was their final night on the island, so they were excited to make the most of it. We didn’t see much else of them, only heard them when they returned to the room in a drunken state around 2am and then woke up at 6am to pack and catch their early ferry.

We had a nice seafood jumbo mix cooked by the lady running the hostel the next night. It filled our bellies well after spending the day taking a boat to a private beach and laying out in the rain. The rain continued for the rest of the time we were on the island. Therefore we played lots of card games (AA still has yet to beat me in nerts!) and also killed plenty of time eating at several different places. We decided that the two nights we had originally reserved would be plenty due to the unsatisfactory weather. Our next destination – Paraty.


We took the big ferry, in the pouring down rain, to Angra, the main connection point from Ilha Grande. In the pouring, tropical rain we walked/ran with all our stuff to try to find the bus to the bus station. Luckily it was the first bus we found, so soaking wet we got on and rode to the terminal. We caught the first bus to Paraty – only about 1.5 hr by bus. We got there and the rain continued. We saw some English-looking travelers at the bus station that were leaving, so we asked them what there is to do here, where to stay, etc. They recommended a hostel and so we walked there, again in the pouring rain. We arrived to what they described as a “really awesome” hostel and we both agreed there’s no way we would be staying in that dump, so we just started walking, again in the rain to try to find a place to stay and dry out. After walking a few minutes, we were approached by this guy on his bike. He suggested we try his hostel right down the street, so we did. We ended up liking it – our own private room with a TV! Unfortunately that’s all the room had to offer. The TV had at least 2 channels – all in Portuguese, and we had the pleasure of eating our breakfast (bread) on our bed because there was no other place for us to eat. That’s pretty much all I remember about our room in Paraty.

The town was cute, historic, lots of beaches, boats, etc. The problem was the non-reliquent rain. We decided to heck with it and went on a boat tour to the surrounding islands regardless of the rain. It was cool and we really enjoyed the guy on the lower deck playing live reggae music for us the entire afternoon. We celebrated that night by going to the local buffet – the one of two choices of restaurants we had in this small town. It was a pay by the kilo buffet – so you load your plate, they weigh it, and you pay based on the weight of your plate. We both loaded up our plates high and dug into our awesome dinners. Unfortunately about an hour later (after we also enjoyed the pay by the kilo ice-cream joint) AA’s stomach started to let him know its displeasure. Food poisoning!




We had seen about as much as the town had to offer, so the next morning we were planning to leave – go to Curitiba, the next “big” town south of where we were. However, I woke up that morning, looked at the guidebook, and immediately started cheering to AA: “Ub-A-Tub-A, Ubatuba, Ubatuba”. This beach town looked awesome and it was only about 1 hour away – much better than the 8 hour trip to Curitiba would have been. AA had been sick the night before, but since then was feeling a little better. However, he woke up feeling very weak. We decided to make a dash for Ubatuba, despite his condition. We went to the bus station and bought our tickets. We ended up on a bus that was basically a school bus. It stopped every km or so to let another kid off the bus. So the 1 hour bus turned into 2 hours. Then the bus pulled over and told everybody to get off. Huh? Where are we? What do we do? Well we ended up waiting (AA getting worse by the second, feeling like he will be sick every second along the way) at a “bus stop” in the middle of no-where until another bus came and picked us up. We spent another hour on that bus until we finally arrived at the Ubatuba bus station.

Now what? No touristy-looking people around to get recommendations. Nobody around that could understand Spanish or speak in English. AA is about to fall-over sick at this point, he is not feeling well. I tell him to wait here for a minute while I go walk around and try to find a hostel. Well we end up at a HOTEL (not hostel, but hotel – with our own room, TV with English channels, A/C, good breakfast, wifi, the whole sha-bang, we splurged!) and it was heaven for us! AA did not leave the bed for 2 days. He was very sick and it was all I could do to convince him to eat some Fruit Loops and eventually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Since it was raining I pretty much spent those two days watching TV and “surfing” on the Internet. We didn’t see much of the beaches that Ubatuba had to offer. Once AA regained his strength we set out for our next destination- Curitiba.


This city is not on the beach, at this point we had had enough of beach towns with non-stop rain so we couldn’t enjoy them fully. What do ya know – as soon as we got to Curitiba the clouds parted and the blue skies rolled in. We really enjoyed being “tourists” in Curitiba and site-seeing and meeting up with my friend’s aunt who lives there.


After several days in Curitiba we decided to leave for a place we’ve been dreaming of since we were in Colorado – Florianopolis. From what we’d heard it’s basically a beach HEAVEN. Well getting to Florianopolis was not so grand. Our bus stopped like every 20 minutes and so what should have been a 4 hour trip ended up being 6 hours and we got in after dark, never a good thing if you don’t know where you are going. I had spent several days prior trying to reserve a good hostel for us, but I couldn’t find anything reasonable. Everything was SOOOOOO expensive, I couldn’t bring myself to push the “reserve” button. I figured we’d get there and figure it out.

Well now it was dark, late, and I was wishing I had just hit that “reserve” button. We were getting frustrated because we didn’t know what to do – getting in a cab is guaranteed to cost you an arm and leg but we couldn’t figure out the local buses and didn’t know where to go regardless. That’s when Alejandro, who I think was an angel, came to us. He spoke Spanish, but the kind of Spanish that was as easy for us to understand as English. He was nice, sweet, helpful, and had so many (cheap) options for us. We ended up at a hotel he recommended in “centro” – downtown for one night, and then we planned to meet up with him the following day. He said he’d drive us to this great beach where he had the perfect “Pausado” (condo) for us right near the beach for a great price!

Well the next morning with AA’s buck knife in his pocket and our money belts around our waists (the first time we’ve actually worn our money belts since our first day in Buenos Aires back in September) we were ready to take the risk and ride with Alejandro, hoping the amazing beach images he’d implanted in our minds would prove to be true. We piled in his tiny car with another couple and he drove us to the beach in Barro da Lagoa. We arrived at an apartment complex 50 meters from the beach and he showed us our new home. It’s amazing, a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen area. A two minute walk to the beach as well as a two minute walk to “town” (I guess it’s considered a “town” as long as there is a shop selling food and a store selling souveniers). We have been here ever since. We’ve enjoyed some great sunny weather on the beach, swimming, getting tan, watching the good-looking people, laughing at the tourists trying to learn how to surf, and ahhing at the kite-surfers. We’ve found a great spot for us and we are loving it.


We did have one big adventure trying to get to a more popular and famous beach only 30-minutes away. It ended up being a 3-hour bus trip on 3 different buses, which left us only 1 hour at the beach in order to catch the bus back. But other than that it’s been great here. We’re getting fat eating donut-like pastries for breakfast, burgers topped with ham, peas, tomatoes, eggs, corn, and cheese for lunch, and of course this awesome pizza we’ve discovered on most nights for dinner, and rinsing it all down with more than a couple caiparinha’s. For now I guess we’ve found paradise….

Rain, rain, go AWAY!

What's a girl to do - her husband is in bed for two days with food poisoning and it's been raining nearly everyday since we left Santiago? I've used this time to upload the majority of our pictures (excluding Buenos Aires - hopefully I'll get those up before the trip ends) to a website. I know there are a ridiculous amount of pictures, but if you are needing to kill some time, it's a great way :-)

Check it out periodically to see pictures of what we've been doing.

www.boydmissionsa.shutterfly.com/

Traveling like a Pro – Rio de Janeiro

We’ve been traveling now for about 6 months. We are very proud of our ability to take micros, the local buses, and not have to take taxis. We are also feeling confident with omnibuses, the long distance buses. Yup, just when we were feeling good about ourselves and getting around easily……

We spent weeks trying to figure out where and how we would travel after we left Argentina/Chile. We knew we wanted to see the beaches of Brazil and Uruguay, Machu Picchu, Peru, northern Chile, and we had to factor in our time volunteering in Pisco, Peru and that we fly out of Lima, Peru on May 9. With all of this information we struggled with the itinerary – where would we go first? Would we fly or bus? How long in each spot? After realizing that flights out of Brazil to Peru were at best $600/each, we finally decided it would be best to fly to Brazil from the southern tip of Argentina (and S. America) then bus the rest of it. We found flights from El Calafate (southern Patagonia, Argentina) to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil for about $420/each. That was the best we could find. In addition, this flight schedule was not the best. We would leave El Calafate at 8:30pm, flying first to Buenos Aires. We would arrive at 12:30 a.m. and then catch a flight at 6:10 a.m. from Buenos Aires to Rio, arriving at 9:10 a.m. I was not particularly excited about this option – spending a whole lot of money for such a horrible flight, but I decided to try my new attitude of not worrying about money so much and go for it! (Busing it would be quite out of the question – as it would take probably well over 50 hours to get from El Calafate to Buenos Aires alone, but it would save some money. :))

To make a long story short, it did not go as smoothly as I had hoped. We had to pay departure tax at the airport, our flight got delayed, I had horrible stomach cramps and a seat that would not recline, and getting less than 3 hours of sleep, on the airport ground, wasn’t much fun. - JenAA

We arrived in Buenos Aires around 1:00 a.m. so we had 5 hours and 10 minutes before taking off for Rio. I knew JenAA wasn’t looking forward to the layover and was ready for sleep. What excited me was the fact we had our bag of camping gear with us. We had the right things at easy access so all I had to do was find the right place to set up camp in the airport. It didn’t take long before I found an area to the side of an elevator and some escalators which blocked us from the sight of most people and gave us a bit of shelter and privacy. On the one side that was more exposed to people I lined the cart with all our bags on it to set up a small barricade that Jenny could sleep next to (always want to protect my little chestnut – she dyed her hair “chestnut” so now I call her my “little chestnut”). Next we pulled from our camping gear: pillows, pads, and sleeping bags. Perfect, I thought, at least for sleeping in an airport (I contemplated the tent as well). I believe it must have been half way decent for the pretty Jenny as well as she was soon fast asleep – I quickly followed… - AA


- our campsite in the airport

At 4:10 a.m. my alarm went off. I woke up, noticed all of our bags were still arranged around us, and AA and I got ready to go check in. We waited in line for about 30 min and finally got to the ticket counter. The man asked where we were going and we told him Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He looked at us confused and said, “You are at the wrong airport!” (This is when deep breaths really come in handy – long deep breaths to be precise – I think they say 3 are good). Is is really possible that they would not have informed us that we would be landing in one airport in Buenos Aires, and be flying out of a different airport in Buenos Aires? I guess so! We asked how far the other airport was, and he said, “50 min via taxi.” We glanced at each other and mutually agreed without words to turn and run for a taxi. T – 1 hour 30 minutes before take off and we have yet to travel 50 minutes via taxi. We run outside to try and flag the first taxi possible. Seconds later a cabby pulls up and we ask how much to the other airport and he says “$100 pesos.” Unfortunately (and adding to the amount of deep breaths we needed to take) we only had $50 pesos because we had planned to use up all of our Argentinean money before leaving the country. We tried desperately to sway him to take our $50 pesos, or let us pay him in American dollars or Brazilian Reis, but he wouldn’t agree. Aaron ran into the airport to find an ATM while I started to load our bags into the taxi. He returned with the money, and we both dove into the cab and told the taxi driver “muy, muy rapido, por favor” – it was now 4:45 a.m.

The driver took our advice literally and we had the ride of our lifetimes! Luckily since it was so early in the morning there was no traffic. The taxi driver was absolutely flying – up to 130km/hr (and we had no seat belts). His little car was shaking from front to back and it felt as the wheels were going to fly of with each long curve of the highway. Every few minutes along the way he would reach up and rub his medallion of Jesus Christ hanging from the rearview mirror. He also had the rosary beads hanging. I think I just sat praying that we wouldn’t be killed in a car crash and that the car would hold together. I was doing the math in my head – if it takes 50 min then we will arrive at the airport at 5:30am and maybe we can cut to the front of the check-in line and be able to make it in time. Our bags might not make it, but we will at least.

Well, thanks to the speeding and red-light running of the taxi driver, we arrived at the correct airport at 5:10 am. While pulling up to the airport he did a Hail Mary and kissed his rosary beads. He was obviously also pleased with his time and the safe arrival. Our rock star cabby shaved 25 minutes off the normal trip time between airports! At that point we had no problem checking in and making our flight with time to spare. We arrived to Rio right on schedule, to a beautiful, hot and sunny day. - JenAA

Talk about a total change in climate - it´s hot and humid as can be here in Rio. We´ve really enjoyed our first few days here with the nice weather and gorgeous beaches. I joke with Jenny about 99.9 percent of the Brazilians here at the beaches and have found a new term for them - I call them "Sculptures" as every person looks as if they were chisled out of stone with ripping, defined bodies. Every 2 seconds - geez - look at that sculpture! We've never seen anything like it!

We actually hiked up to Corcovado (Christ the Redeemer) yesterday. We took a cool little trail that goes through the rain forest up to the top - hardly anyone knows of it other than the locals (796 meters to the top).


- Start of hike looking up to our objective

We got lucky and found out about it and decided to hike to the top instead of train or cab like everyone else. Due to the heat and humidity - it was definitely a tough little hike (new climate brings new obstacles - plus I´m realizing that I keep repeating myself with how tough all these hikes are... where are the easy ones???). :)


- steep section where we had to use a rope already in place thankfully


- view from a clearing along the hike


- near the summit was a little shed we climbed on for a private view - the owner of the Mango Tree hostel (we're staying at) hiked it with us and is the one who informed us about the trail

It only took 1 1/2 hours, but still tough. I have never sweated so much in my life - it literally looked as if I jumped into a swimming pool from how wet I was - luckily I took a spare shirt for the hike - got the advice from our hostel owner and changed into it at the top. The statue at the top is truly beautiful - I had no idea I would think that before ever being there.


- Christ the Redeemer - Corcovado


- happy Jenny and Aaron (notice the shirt change)

Here are some other pictures of Ipanema beach throughout the day:




- Brazilians juggling soccer balls throughout...







It rained today and will be for the next few days - probably won't get to do all we had hoped, but are thankful for even being here and having a few nice days. We´re heading to Ihla Grande (an island a few hours south of here that´s 11 miles off the coast) in two days and will stay in a hostel for a couple nights and also camp for awhile. It`s suppose to be a beautiful island (what island isn't though - right?) that has yet to be developed and is all secluded beaches and tropical forest - there are no roads or vehicles. Should be fun.
- by JenAA and AA both…

The Reward

We are now in a town of southern Chile, in the lake district, called Pucon. It is somewhat a tourist town - but the reasons are obvious. Pucon is surrounded by lakes, national parks, mountains, volcanos, hot springs, and many other forms of adventure lovers' dreams. We spent our first two days here in Parque Nacional Huerquehue. We hiked “Los Lagos”, an 18km hike winding through many different lakes, waterfalls, and a tropical forest. It was beautiful - the forest looked like it could be from a different planet. The huge trees were covered with thin, stringy light green moss which very closely resembles silly string. Other trees have pine cones, but they all grow together, connected, pine cone after pine cone, forming a big crosses as the branches. They were very interesting. We also noticed all of the Chilco flora which look like red upside down firework flowers. Along our walk we were never far from the sound of water rummaging through the forest. We also stumbled across some beautiful, untouched lakes amid the mountain scenery and also some waterfalls. If only the weather would have been better we could have seen some really incredible views of the volcanoes as well. However it had been raining for the past two weeks straight, so the trails were muddy and the clouds were out. We camped in the park for one night, but woke up to rain and cold weather, so decided one night camping would be enough. Our next adventure was to climb the Villarrica volcano. It's known to be a "must do" when visiting Pucon. The volcano is an active volcano, reaching 2,847m high. We went with an excursion group which consisted of our new friends, Jeff and Maggie, a father/son team from France, our lead guide Mauricio, and an assistant guide. Our alarm went off at 5:40 am, and we all got dressed as recommended (warm pants, three layers on top – long-sleeve shirt, fleece, and jacket, long socks, and sunscreen), ate breakfast, made some sandwiches for lunch, and we were off. We arrived at the base of the mountain around 7:15 and began preparing for the hike. The guide provided us with snow pants, a windbreaker, head fleece, gators, waterproof mittens, gloves, boots, cramp-ons, a helmet, ice pick, and backpack. We got all of our gear on and then took a ski-lift up to where the snow on the mountain began. The morning was beautiful - cool, crisp, and a gorgeous view of the lake, other volcanos, and of town. We looked up and saw the vapors rising from the top of the volcano. It didn’t look so far away; we thought that it would be an easy hike up. However, this ended up being a lesson in depth perception and how something that looks so close can actually be very far away. Our main guide, Mauricio was in front, leading the way, and the rest of us followed in a single file line. We got started and immediately I thought to myself – “Wow, this is much harder than I expected.” It did prove to be a very difficult challenge. The mountain is covered in snow and ice. Therefore, you must learn to trust your cramp-ons. Those are the things you put over your boots that have 14 prongs and dig into the snow and ice in order to get a good grip. We were also taught how to use the ice pick as an extra weight-bearing limb. The mountain’s slope averaged between a 25 and 45 degree angle. It was especially scary when we were near the top, a very steep area, and the snow was icy. Two people from our group had already experienced some problems so they were behind with the assistant guide. I was directly behind the guide and he was paving his own trail of switchback after switchback in order to get us to the summit. It was especially scary because it’s hard to feel like you have a good grip with your feet when you are on a 45 degree angle, on ice, and thousands of feet up. I probably had half of the prongs dug into the snow and the other half hanging in the air due to the angle. In addition, I developed huge blisters on the back of each of my ankles. Each step I took involved a lot of pain, but there was no room to think of the pain. The only thing I could do was concentrate on putting on foot in front of the other – that’s it! It was overwhelming to look down and know that one misstep would lead to your death, and then to look up and see a tremendous amount left to conquer. It made me feel overwhelmingly helpless because I had no other option except to not think about any of my fears or pains, and only to focus on one foot in front of the next. Eventually, after trekking up the mountain for about 4.5 hours, we made it to the top. Ah, it felt so good to have conquered the mountain. I was looking forward to sitting and resting and eating some food at the top. That proved very short lived due to the freezing cold, gusty winds at the top of the mountain, and the vapors released by the volcano. The vapors include sulfur and chlorine gases which stung our eyes and irritated our lungs, making it difficult to breathe. So we had to hold our breath, run out for a picture near the crater, and then run back to the fresh air. I was hoping to peek down into the crater and see a hot magma pool, but unfortunately that was not possible. Villarrica is an active volcano, but you can only see the lava from a plane. I was already dreading the descent. I asked Mauricio how much time it would take to get down and he said 3 hours. My feet hurt, I was tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend another 3 hours or so getting down. However, I was also freezing cold and ready to get moving again. We went down a slightly different way, where the snow was very soft and not icy at all. We took huge, big steps and it was going very quickly. Cool, I thought, this is going to be easy. Then, I look over and see people sliding down the mountain on their butts! It looked like so much fun. I glanced ahead at our guide wondering if he knew about this way to descend, secretly hoping that he would let us try. We walk down about half an hour and then finally he tells us the surprise - we get to slide the rest of the way down the mountain! Yay!!! I wanted to plant a huge kiss on his cheek at that point. We strapped on these special butt protection/sledding aids and off we went. We used the ice pick as our brake and there were grooves in the snow already created from all the people sledding down. I have to say that I can't remember a time I've had as much fun as I did sledding down the mountain on my butt. It was sooo cool!!! It made all the torture and pain of going up worth it. In fact, I'd love to do it all again tomorrow just to get to sled again. It was exhilarating! I felt free and carefree and reckless. It was awesome. The way down only ended up being an hour, the guide had tricked me! The trip itself was just great and now we sit here sun-burnt and completely exhausted, reliving the experiences of the day. Check out this video of us at the top of the volcano.


And check out this video from the Pucon beach. Notice the black sand due to the volcano.