A huge part of Carnival is water – there are kids everywhere with water guns, water balloons, and spray foam that are attacking each other and everyone else on the street. Once we decided that we had been blasted by too many times by one group of boys, we needed to get some sort of defence. We each bought a $1.50 can of spray foam and ambushed them! Up to that point, most kids were after each other but once we were involved they all joined forces. We raced up all around the square, chased by screaming kids – I think every kid in town was after us!
Our foam cans ran out and we were left standing with our hands in the air, soaking wet and covered in foam. The kids were laughing wildly (still spraying) and the adults were pointing and giggling.
It was good fun, but made going out anytime afterwards a wet event – of course they would all recognize the only two gringas in town!
-Jodie
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Across the Salar
It was a big disappointment, but one that we were prepared for. Like everyone we asked had told us, there was too much water on the salt flats to ride our bikes across it, but our optimism told us that we had to see for ourselves. So we left Salinas with our fingers crossed and enough food and water to get us to Uyuni. 35 kms of the roughest road we've seen so far (we had to push our bikes DOWN hills because of all the loose rock!) brought us to the Salar's edge, where we met a truck completely caked in salt, whose driver told us about the "harto agua" and gave us a ride back to Salinas.
We waited through the last day of Carnaval until things started to move again, then loaded our bikes onto the roof of a big old bus that would take us to Uyuni. We asked the driver if we could ride on the roof rack with all of the luggage to get a better view of the Salar and once we were settled in, away we went. They had to bombstart the bus and even once it was running, it chugged so badly over bumps and up hills that we wondered if it could actually make the journey.
What we expected to be a 3 hour trip turned into an 8 hour journey. When we finally hit the town on the edge of the Salar, we laughed that we could have ridden our bikes the same distance in less time. It seemed like every person we passed on the road would wave the bus down just to chat with someone on board.
But at last we were on the Salar, and it was every bit as amazing as pictures and stories make it out to be. Where it was covered in water, the sky and clouds were reflected so perfectly that it was hard to tell which was which. Beyond the water, when we were driving over solid salt, we felt like we were on a huge frozen lake except that it was nearly 30 degrees out. The bus stopped for a pee break in the middle of the salar and we took the chance to run and jump and do cartwheels on the salt before crawling back onto the roof.
It was just like our own personal tour of the salar and quite a bargain for only $4 each!!
-Christine
We waited through the last day of Carnaval until things started to move again, then loaded our bikes onto the roof of a big old bus that would take us to Uyuni. We asked the driver if we could ride on the roof rack with all of the luggage to get a better view of the Salar and once we were settled in, away we went. They had to bombstart the bus and even once it was running, it chugged so badly over bumps and up hills that we wondered if it could actually make the journey.
What we expected to be a 3 hour trip turned into an 8 hour journey. When we finally hit the town on the edge of the Salar, we laughed that we could have ridden our bikes the same distance in less time. It seemed like every person we passed on the road would wave the bus down just to chat with someone on board.
But at last we were on the Salar, and it was every bit as amazing as pictures and stories make it out to be. Where it was covered in water, the sky and clouds were reflected so perfectly that it was hard to tell which was which. Beyond the water, when we were driving over solid salt, we felt like we were on a huge frozen lake except that it was nearly 30 degrees out. The bus stopped for a pee break in the middle of the salar and we took the chance to run and jump and do cartwheels on the salt before crawling back onto the roof.
It was just like our own personal tour of the salar and quite a bargain for only $4 each!!
-Christine
One River = One Beer
They started small and were a bit of a novelty… but got deeper and softer way too quick! The first one was ok and you could even ride through it. The last was up to my bellybutton with very sticky mud along the bottom… and the Bobs weighed about 65 or 70 pounds. That river was at the end of a huge mud flat that seemed to have a creek or river every few minutes. We made it 10km in 3 hours! Somehow the water was not as much fun anymore! That is, until we decided that we would drink one beer for every river that we had to ford (and a shot for every flat).
One river was super soft on the bottom, and after crossing it we couldn’t figure out how a vehicle would ever make it through when a little truck pulled up with six guys in the back. They said hi, shook our hands and went to work. They tramped back and forth with lots of yelling and hand waving until they had packed two tracks in the soft river bottom, then marked them with willow branches. The driver took a huge run at it and all of the men jumped out of the way as he splashed on by. They then chased him, ready to push. Yup, cleared it! Who needs a bridge?
But a modern bridge we did find! From our map, we knew we had at least one more river to cross and we joked that it would likely be swimming water from the way things had been going. We came around the corner and we couldn’t believe our eyes - a brand new fancy bridge! We decided that it was ok to give up one beer and took it with a smile…
-Jodie
One river was super soft on the bottom, and after crossing it we couldn’t figure out how a vehicle would ever make it through when a little truck pulled up with six guys in the back. They said hi, shook our hands and went to work. They tramped back and forth with lots of yelling and hand waving until they had packed two tracks in the soft river bottom, then marked them with willow branches. The driver took a huge run at it and all of the men jumped out of the way as he splashed on by. They then chased him, ready to push. Yup, cleared it! Who needs a bridge?
But a modern bridge we did find! From our map, we knew we had at least one more river to cross and we joked that it would likely be swimming water from the way things had been going. We came around the corner and we couldn’t believe our eyes - a brand new fancy bridge! We decided that it was ok to give up one beer and took it with a smile…
-Jodie
"No, today they are dancing!"
That was why no stores were open as we tried to find food and water for our ride. And why, when we realized that we couldn't cross the salt flats, we had to spend two more nights in Salinas de Garci-Mendoza before a single vehicle left for Uyuni.
Carnaval brought the otherwise sleepy little town of Salinas to a near riotous state for three full days and nights. Busses, tractors and motorcycles were covered with colorful garland, and tables out front of each were full of empty beer bottles, while those nearby were pulling new ones from tall piles of crates. Men and women, their traditional dress completemented by streamers and party hats, danced wildly to a marching band that played the same song over and over for 3 full days as it followed the dancers through the streets and around the plaza. Two litre jugs of 'potable alcohol' (which looked and tasted like coolant) were everywhere and women tried quite agressively to force it on us. Kids played with water balloon, squirt guns and spray foam (for which we apparently made pretty good targets), while adults threw confetti at onlookers. There was even a poor llama caught up in all the excitement and completely covered in confetti!
As we wandered through town looking for food and water, we were swept into the passing parade by a tiny little old woman who looked to be about 70 but who muckled onto both of us and swung us around with the strength of a man half her age. She whirled us and twirled us all the way to a backyard party where a large group of partiers were surprised to see two gringos among them and increased their efforts and forcing us to drink their poison (we tried it, but I swear more than two shots would have blinded me).
We watched most of the festivities from the doorway of our hostel, where we felt safe from the fire crackers and rockets that were going off all over the place, and from the watergun and balloon wielding kids.
The stamina of the musicians and dancers was impressive, and far outlasted our own as spectators. For three days and nights they drank (more than I think I've ever seen anyone drink and still stay standing!) and danced (until the average mortals legs would have fallen off!) and played music (always the same song, and always out of tune). On the last night, the festivities lasted until 5am! Or so Jodie tells me, I managed to sleep like a rock...
Ah Carnaval - the wildest party ever!
-Christine
Carnaval brought the otherwise sleepy little town of Salinas to a near riotous state for three full days and nights. Busses, tractors and motorcycles were covered with colorful garland, and tables out front of each were full of empty beer bottles, while those nearby were pulling new ones from tall piles of crates. Men and women, their traditional dress completemented by streamers and party hats, danced wildly to a marching band that played the same song over and over for 3 full days as it followed the dancers through the streets and around the plaza. Two litre jugs of 'potable alcohol' (which looked and tasted like coolant) were everywhere and women tried quite agressively to force it on us. Kids played with water balloon, squirt guns and spray foam (for which we apparently made pretty good targets), while adults threw confetti at onlookers. There was even a poor llama caught up in all the excitement and completely covered in confetti!
As we wandered through town looking for food and water, we were swept into the passing parade by a tiny little old woman who looked to be about 70 but who muckled onto both of us and swung us around with the strength of a man half her age. She whirled us and twirled us all the way to a backyard party where a large group of partiers were surprised to see two gringos among them and increased their efforts and forcing us to drink their poison (we tried it, but I swear more than two shots would have blinded me).
We watched most of the festivities from the doorway of our hostel, where we felt safe from the fire crackers and rockets that were going off all over the place, and from the watergun and balloon wielding kids.
The stamina of the musicians and dancers was impressive, and far outlasted our own as spectators. For three days and nights they drank (more than I think I've ever seen anyone drink and still stay standing!) and danced (until the average mortals legs would have fallen off!) and played music (always the same song, and always out of tune). On the last night, the festivities lasted until 5am! Or so Jodie tells me, I managed to sleep like a rock...
Ah Carnaval - the wildest party ever!
-Christine
550 kilometers of adventure
…and sand, gravel, dirt, grass, washboard, river crossings, mud, “intense animal crossings,” shortcuts, and many Ys in the roads. We have definitely found the roads less travelled and have loved the experience! We had several days when the only traffic was llamas or the occasional bicycle.
These quiet roads resulted in two very, very fat Bobs! Leaving one town we each had 16 litres of water – that is an extra 32+ lbs!!! It definitely took some creativity and coaxing to get them all loaded up and in the trailers in the mornings.
The weather ranged from pouring rain and hail that resulted in raging rivers and creeks to gorgeous hot and sunny days. The stars on the clear nights up on the quiet 3,700m altiplano were absolutely amazing! We never really stayed out to watch them for long though because they were very frosty nights. The wind always picks up in the afternoon and it really is a great way to navigate- as long as it is a headwind, we are going the right way!
One night the wind even had us huddled inside of a mud brick llama corral for a campsite. Believe it or not, a thick layer of llama shit provides quite a comfy sleep. ;)
Sleep was definitely not a problem though; we worked hard to gain those kilometres! We love mountain biking with our skinny tires and Bobs bouncing along behind. A certain number of bumps, washouts and puddles keep us entertained and having fun, but, when we ride only a few meters and then have to get off and push through sand over and over again or hammer ourselves over rough boulders for hours we are not such happy little bikers. There are narrow off road bicycle trails that help us to regain our sanity a little as we race one another alongside the road. Oh, and chasing emus can also add to our riding pleasure…
A huge highlight of reaching Uyuni is the hot shower and the laundry services as there were none to be found over the past 13 days. There was one river that we used for washing. We just had to ignore the llama shit floating by, a reoccurring element in our lives lately. We thought that people gave us funny looks because we were crazy, but maybe it was the smell… Ahhh life is good!
-Jodie
These quiet roads resulted in two very, very fat Bobs! Leaving one town we each had 16 litres of water – that is an extra 32+ lbs!!! It definitely took some creativity and coaxing to get them all loaded up and in the trailers in the mornings.
The weather ranged from pouring rain and hail that resulted in raging rivers and creeks to gorgeous hot and sunny days. The stars on the clear nights up on the quiet 3,700m altiplano were absolutely amazing! We never really stayed out to watch them for long though because they were very frosty nights. The wind always picks up in the afternoon and it really is a great way to navigate- as long as it is a headwind, we are going the right way!
One night the wind even had us huddled inside of a mud brick llama corral for a campsite. Believe it or not, a thick layer of llama shit provides quite a comfy sleep. ;)
Sleep was definitely not a problem though; we worked hard to gain those kilometres! We love mountain biking with our skinny tires and Bobs bouncing along behind. A certain number of bumps, washouts and puddles keep us entertained and having fun, but, when we ride only a few meters and then have to get off and push through sand over and over again or hammer ourselves over rough boulders for hours we are not such happy little bikers. There are narrow off road bicycle trails that help us to regain our sanity a little as we race one another alongside the road. Oh, and chasing emus can also add to our riding pleasure…
A huge highlight of reaching Uyuni is the hot shower and the laundry services as there were none to be found over the past 13 days. There was one river that we used for washing. We just had to ignore the llama shit floating by, a reoccurring element in our lives lately. We thought that people gave us funny looks because we were crazy, but maybe it was the smell… Ahhh life is good!
-Jodie
From the development studies student....
Travelling by bike allows you the opportunity to see more than just the pretty side of a country, full of pizza parlours, tour agencies and hotels boasting hot showers and free breakfasts. These touristly areas are always a welcome respite when we get to them....we love the chance to speak our own language, and pizza and cold beer taste delicious after countless meals of pasta and carrots.
But the reason that we love riding is that it lets fully experience a place and its people. Here are some observations from rural Bolivia (and in case anyone with an IDS background is watching, these are not generalizations, simply observatons and I fully understand that my views are tainted by the fact that I'm both female and a foreigner):
- As we rode further away from main roads and highways, the small dots on our maps representing towns began to mean less. Small towns were terribly run down and we would often believe that they were completely abandonned until we'd cross paths with a lone inhabitant at the far end of town. Cemented basketball courts are cracking with weeds and have bent, rusted hoops and many homes have been gutted and are left without roofs or doors. There are no schools, offices or stores. The road through town always passes by the main plaza and church, and although these were in awful disrepair, it was obvious that they were once beautiful and had been buzzing with life. Then along came the highway, and with it came industry and opportunity in the cities and slowly these wonderful little villages emptied and were left to ruin. Its a stark and sad result of modernization in Bolivia.
- I read just today that the poverty rate (not sure by what standard) is around 70% in Bolivia. There is a notable lack of money in many rural places, but it's a different sort of poverty. No one here appears to be going hungry. The ground is fertile and the livestock are fat and plentiful. Homes are made of local materials (mudbricks, stones or salt blocks), and yards are large and generally well kept, often with flower beds out front. Kids are at least educated enough to know to say "Hello, how are you?" to gringos and all that we asked went to school. The people that we've met have all seemed healthy and content despite their lack of money, begging the question of whether income is really the best indicator of poverty. Still, the growing importance of money to the people is obvious. They love to ask the cost of our bikes, our plane tickets to get here, and how much I plan to sell the scarf that I'm knitting for. These questions are definitely uncomfortable ones to deal with and we try our best to avoid them, though they seem to be asked out of genuine interest and not bad intentions.
- From our pictures, I'm sure you've noticed the beauty of the native women here, in their large, bright skirts, colorful backpacks and bowler hats. Most women older than 30 or so dress in their traditional (if imposed by colonialists) dress on a daily basis. Those who work as laborers in the public sector are even issued yellow coverall dresses to work in! Men on the other hand, dress in plain dress pants and shirts, and the only time that we've seen them in their traditional dress is during festivals. As is the case in many cultures, it seems that women in Bolivia are the carriers of culture.
That's all I got....wouldn't McGill be pround of the worldly little graduate they produced (or would they rather I get a real job!?)
-Christine
But the reason that we love riding is that it lets fully experience a place and its people. Here are some observations from rural Bolivia (and in case anyone with an IDS background is watching, these are not generalizations, simply observatons and I fully understand that my views are tainted by the fact that I'm both female and a foreigner):
- As we rode further away from main roads and highways, the small dots on our maps representing towns began to mean less. Small towns were terribly run down and we would often believe that they were completely abandonned until we'd cross paths with a lone inhabitant at the far end of town. Cemented basketball courts are cracking with weeds and have bent, rusted hoops and many homes have been gutted and are left without roofs or doors. There are no schools, offices or stores. The road through town always passes by the main plaza and church, and although these were in awful disrepair, it was obvious that they were once beautiful and had been buzzing with life. Then along came the highway, and with it came industry and opportunity in the cities and slowly these wonderful little villages emptied and were left to ruin. Its a stark and sad result of modernization in Bolivia.
- I read just today that the poverty rate (not sure by what standard) is around 70% in Bolivia. There is a notable lack of money in many rural places, but it's a different sort of poverty. No one here appears to be going hungry. The ground is fertile and the livestock are fat and plentiful. Homes are made of local materials (mudbricks, stones or salt blocks), and yards are large and generally well kept, often with flower beds out front. Kids are at least educated enough to know to say "Hello, how are you?" to gringos and all that we asked went to school. The people that we've met have all seemed healthy and content despite their lack of money, begging the question of whether income is really the best indicator of poverty. Still, the growing importance of money to the people is obvious. They love to ask the cost of our bikes, our plane tickets to get here, and how much I plan to sell the scarf that I'm knitting for. These questions are definitely uncomfortable ones to deal with and we try our best to avoid them, though they seem to be asked out of genuine interest and not bad intentions.
- From our pictures, I'm sure you've noticed the beauty of the native women here, in their large, bright skirts, colorful backpacks and bowler hats. Most women older than 30 or so dress in their traditional (if imposed by colonialists) dress on a daily basis. Those who work as laborers in the public sector are even issued yellow coverall dresses to work in! Men on the other hand, dress in plain dress pants and shirts, and the only time that we've seen them in their traditional dress is during festivals. As is the case in many cultures, it seems that women in Bolivia are the carriers of culture.
That's all I got....wouldn't McGill be pround of the worldly little graduate they produced (or would they rather I get a real job!?)
-Christine
Saturday, February 10, 2007
And we're off!
Across the Bolivian Altiplano. If you can get your hands on a map of Bolivia, we're heading west from La Paz to Sajama National Park, then southeast from there in as straight a line as we can find to Uyuni and the salt flats (which we hear may actually be ride-able now!). We plan to be going through some pretty remote places and travelling some pretty rough roads between here and there and expect that the next time we see a computer will be in about 2 weeks time. So the blog may be quiet for a spell, but then I'm sure we'll have many adventures to share...
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Biking the backroads
You know the road is rough when you have to go just as slowly down the hils as up....and when your odometer actually reads zero at times (we didn't realize that you could actually balance a bike at less than 4kph)!
That's what riding the backroads around Lake Titikaka is like - miles and miles of the roughest road that I've ever seen (actually less a road than a sandbox slash rock garden). It was impossibly steep in sections, so that we spent quite a lot of time pushing. Also repaired quite a few flat tires and retightened a lot of screws that had come loose (and lost a few, too).
After bumping and rattling along for 3 days, our shoulders and arms were more sore than our legs (though our whole bodies were exhausted). Still, though (and does this mean we're suckers for punishment?), we've opted for 700 more kms of dirt before we leave this crazy country!
Christine
That's what riding the backroads around Lake Titikaka is like - miles and miles of the roughest road that I've ever seen (actually less a road than a sandbox slash rock garden). It was impossibly steep in sections, so that we spent quite a lot of time pushing. Also repaired quite a few flat tires and retightened a lot of screws that had come loose (and lost a few, too).
After bumping and rattling along for 3 days, our shoulders and arms were more sore than our legs (though our whole bodies were exhausted). Still, though (and does this mean we're suckers for punishment?), we've opted for 700 more kms of dirt before we leave this crazy country!
Christine
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
"Gringo! Gringo!" and other everyday interactions
- We can hear them before we can see them. Little kids tending livestock far out in a field yelling, "Gringo! Hola gringo!" from so far away that we don't know how they can tell what color we are.
- A man herding his sheep down the road stops us to ask where we are from and shakes both of our hands and wishes us well in our travels.
- Enrique, a man from the north end of Lake Titikaka, runs back to his house, way up on a hill to get his camera so that he can take our picture. He explains that he is trying to get tourism started in his community (it's so beautiful, it deserves it) and plans on doing his own bike tour around the lake in the fall to promote it.
- Riding into a village at the end of the day, a woman stops us and says, "Congratulations! I saw you in another village! I came here by car and you rode your bikes! Congratulations!"
- We cross paths several times with a van full of people on their way to a fiesta in Moho. Part way up a big hill, we find them stopped by the side of the road. A woman from the group comes running up to us and gives us a bag of cheese to snack on. Meanwhile, 2 men with video cameras have them running and aimed at us, while another asks where we are from and where we're headed.
- On the way up an even bigger hill, we pass a group of construction workers. One runs up behind Jodie and pushes her for a few hundred meters while they all cheer us on.
- Men hawking their fruits and vegetables over a loudspeaker on the side of the road stop mid-word as we pass to say, "Hola Gringas!"
- A group of school kids on the side of the road, yell "Good morning, teacher!" to us - likely the only English words they know.
- When we stop for water in a small town, a group of kids surrounds us and asks all kids of questions about us, our trip and our bikes. They wonder if we stop to sleep at night or ride around the clock. I'm dying to tell them that gringos don't actually need sleep, but I'm not sure how the joke would go over with the adults in the background.
- A man rides towards us on his bicycle, trying hard to mind his own business and ignore us, but when he sees us smile at him and hears us say hello, he breaks into a huge grin and laughs as he says hello back.
These are honestly just a few of the interactions that we've had with people as we travelled around Lake Titikaka. The further off the beaten path we go, the friendlier and more interested people seem to be. The scenery was pretty spectacular, too, but the people are really what make riding around here so rewarding!
Christine
- A man herding his sheep down the road stops us to ask where we are from and shakes both of our hands and wishes us well in our travels.
- Enrique, a man from the north end of Lake Titikaka, runs back to his house, way up on a hill to get his camera so that he can take our picture. He explains that he is trying to get tourism started in his community (it's so beautiful, it deserves it) and plans on doing his own bike tour around the lake in the fall to promote it.
- Riding into a village at the end of the day, a woman stops us and says, "Congratulations! I saw you in another village! I came here by car and you rode your bikes! Congratulations!"
- We cross paths several times with a van full of people on their way to a fiesta in Moho. Part way up a big hill, we find them stopped by the side of the road. A woman from the group comes running up to us and gives us a bag of cheese to snack on. Meanwhile, 2 men with video cameras have them running and aimed at us, while another asks where we are from and where we're headed.
- On the way up an even bigger hill, we pass a group of construction workers. One runs up behind Jodie and pushes her for a few hundred meters while they all cheer us on.
- Men hawking their fruits and vegetables over a loudspeaker on the side of the road stop mid-word as we pass to say, "Hola Gringas!"
- A group of school kids on the side of the road, yell "Good morning, teacher!" to us - likely the only English words they know.
- When we stop for water in a small town, a group of kids surrounds us and asks all kids of questions about us, our trip and our bikes. They wonder if we stop to sleep at night or ride around the clock. I'm dying to tell them that gringos don't actually need sleep, but I'm not sure how the joke would go over with the adults in the background.
- A man rides towards us on his bicycle, trying hard to mind his own business and ignore us, but when he sees us smile at him and hears us say hello, he breaks into a huge grin and laughs as he says hello back.
These are honestly just a few of the interactions that we've had with people as we travelled around Lake Titikaka. The further off the beaten path we go, the friendlier and more interested people seem to be. The scenery was pretty spectacular, too, but the people are really what make riding around here so rewarding!
Christine
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Sunday in Copacabana
It's 8am and cars are lined up three abreast for at least 3 blocks from the cathedral. Their owners are busily decorating them with flowers, ribbons, and minitures of the Virgin Mary. They are waiting until 10:30, when the priest will come around, sprinkle holy water and over each one and pray for its safe travels. For the few Bolivianos this costs, everyone seems to prefer this blessing over auto insurance.
Once their cars are blessed, the hoards move towards the mountain that rises up from the lakeshore just a few blocks from the cathedral. Here, they work their way up the old stone steps, past the 14 stations of the cross, stopping at each to toss a rock at its base and cross themselves. Midway up, they take a break and have an indigenous priest pray over them. He prays aloud for each person after asking them what they need prayer for, then swirls a burning pot of inscense around their heads and rings a small bell near their ears.
At the top, families and friends gather to enjoy drinks and snacks, as well as the spectacular view over Lake Titikaka and Copacabana.
From the mountain, it's down to the beach, where Bolivian vacationers rent kayaks, small sail boats, and animal-shaped paddle boats, eat ice cream and popsicles, rip around on rented motor- and bi-cycles, and play fussball on outdoor tables. It's an incredibly colorful show and the perfect place to kick back and people watch.
Christine
Once their cars are blessed, the hoards move towards the mountain that rises up from the lakeshore just a few blocks from the cathedral. Here, they work their way up the old stone steps, past the 14 stations of the cross, stopping at each to toss a rock at its base and cross themselves. Midway up, they take a break and have an indigenous priest pray over them. He prays aloud for each person after asking them what they need prayer for, then swirls a burning pot of inscense around their heads and rings a small bell near their ears.
At the top, families and friends gather to enjoy drinks and snacks, as well as the spectacular view over Lake Titikaka and Copacabana.
From the mountain, it's down to the beach, where Bolivian vacationers rent kayaks, small sail boats, and animal-shaped paddle boats, eat ice cream and popsicles, rip around on rented motor- and bi-cycles, and play fussball on outdoor tables. It's an incredibly colorful show and the perfect place to kick back and people watch.
Christine
Friday, January 26, 2007
Dear Creepy Italian Guy,
Please don't interrupt our journal writing in the sun to try and charm us with your rudeness.
Please don't tell Jodie that she must be slower going up hills on her bike because she's got bigger boobs.
Or that her horse must hate her and hopes that she never comes back from South America.
Please don't tell us that we'd have to dress better if we ever came to Italy.
And please, please, please tell your non-english speaking friend to get out of our bubble and stop throwing out the vibe.
Sincerely,
Christine & Jodie
Please don't tell Jodie that she must be slower going up hills on her bike because she's got bigger boobs.
Or that her horse must hate her and hopes that she never comes back from South America.
Please don't tell us that we'd have to dress better if we ever came to Italy.
And please, please, please tell your non-english speaking friend to get out of our bubble and stop throwing out the vibe.
Sincerely,
Christine & Jodie
"I´m high as a kite and I just might..."
...is what we sang (or yelled) when we could finally see Lago Titicaca and the long down hill that would take us there. Yesterday was deemed to be physically the hardest thing that either of us has ever done! We traveled 75km in 6hrs of riding time (that's SLOW!), including the 30km hill that topped out at 4,275m (14,000ft).
We woke up early to cows that were tied next to our tent - after hearing them breathing, munching and moving around all night. Since we were sleeping in someone´s front yard, our morning business had to wait. However, the area was incredibly populated and there were no public baños so a couple tufts of high grass on the side of the highway had to do. :)
Christine had two flats within about an hour of riding. This was frustrating since it was only day two on the new tires. Other than that, the morning was great with a bit of a climb and then a good downhill into San Pablo de Tequina. The views of the snow capped Andes and Lago Titicaca were amazing!
There were a bunch of big wooden barges waiting their turn to ferry people and their vehicles across from San Pablo to San Pedro. We rode our bikes on and were slowly floated across the water. We were a little concered when we first pushed off as the little outboard engine on our barge seemed to take quite a lot of convincing to start...
Ok, this is where we began the hardest hill of this entire trip! It is true what they say about everything being harder at altitude! At the top of the first hill we were stopped and bent over our handlebars wondering if we were going to pass out or puke! We took our heart rates and they were both >200bpm. weeeee!
From there we slowly climbed up for the next 30km. We passed people hanging out with their sheep, crops planted all over the terraced hillsides, children playing, and houses scattered throughout the hills. There were also roadworkers that ride their bicycles up these crazy hills every day to do maintenance - they must be the fittest people on earth. We were even passed by a guy flying down the hill with a wheelbarrel bouncing along behind his bike! Several people said hi and waved, some yelled "Da-le, Da-le!!" (give'r, give'r!) and one group of kids 'yipped' back and forth with us as we pedalled by. My favorite was a sheep herder who played his horn for us; he first played up on the hill with his sheep, but after we passed, he ran out onto the road and played loudly until we were out of sight. These small but special moments were so wonderful and they gave us all of the extra energy we needed to keep pedalling.
Upon reaching the final summit (after several false ones) we were so exhausted that even the downhill seemed like it would be work. It was all worth it though! We had a blast winding down through the beautiful views, past houses, locals on bicycles, music and even a dance, to the rewarding destination of Copacabaña, where we celebrated with a cerveza and a long deep sleep in a comfy bed!
Jodie
We woke up early to cows that were tied next to our tent - after hearing them breathing, munching and moving around all night. Since we were sleeping in someone´s front yard, our morning business had to wait. However, the area was incredibly populated and there were no public baños so a couple tufts of high grass on the side of the highway had to do. :)
Christine had two flats within about an hour of riding. This was frustrating since it was only day two on the new tires. Other than that, the morning was great with a bit of a climb and then a good downhill into San Pablo de Tequina. The views of the snow capped Andes and Lago Titicaca were amazing!
There were a bunch of big wooden barges waiting their turn to ferry people and their vehicles across from San Pablo to San Pedro. We rode our bikes on and were slowly floated across the water. We were a little concered when we first pushed off as the little outboard engine on our barge seemed to take quite a lot of convincing to start...
Ok, this is where we began the hardest hill of this entire trip! It is true what they say about everything being harder at altitude! At the top of the first hill we were stopped and bent over our handlebars wondering if we were going to pass out or puke! We took our heart rates and they were both >200bpm. weeeee!
From there we slowly climbed up for the next 30km. We passed people hanging out with their sheep, crops planted all over the terraced hillsides, children playing, and houses scattered throughout the hills. There were also roadworkers that ride their bicycles up these crazy hills every day to do maintenance - they must be the fittest people on earth. We were even passed by a guy flying down the hill with a wheelbarrel bouncing along behind his bike! Several people said hi and waved, some yelled "Da-le, Da-le!!" (give'r, give'r!) and one group of kids 'yipped' back and forth with us as we pedalled by. My favorite was a sheep herder who played his horn for us; he first played up on the hill with his sheep, but after we passed, he ran out onto the road and played loudly until we were out of sight. These small but special moments were so wonderful and they gave us all of the extra energy we needed to keep pedalling.
Upon reaching the final summit (after several false ones) we were so exhausted that even the downhill seemed like it would be work. It was all worth it though! We had a blast winding down through the beautiful views, past houses, locals on bicycles, music and even a dance, to the rewarding destination of Copacabaña, where we celebrated with a cerveza and a long deep sleep in a comfy bed!
Jodie
Monday, January 22, 2007
All you ever needed to know about Coca
You can't avoid the coca leaf in Bolivia. Women sell it out of huge garbage bags in all of the markets, every cafe serves coca tea and it's often touted as the best treatment for altitude sickness. And then there's the coca museum, displaying an overwhelming amount of info on the leaf, the refined product, and all of the implications that both have had for Bolivia throughout history.
Let's see how much I can remember:
- when the spanish invaded bolivia and peru, they made chewing coca illegal because they thought it was 'diabolical'. it's interesting that this was before cocaine existed, so the leaf was not known as a drug...it was only made illegal because of the important social and spiritual role that it has for the indigenous people that spain was trying to convert to catholicism.
- when they noticed that productivity in the gold and silver mines dropped significantly when the miners couldn't chew coca, they actually did a complete 180 and made it mandatory for the miners to use coca and imposed a tax on its purchase.
- indigenous people have been using coca for ages as an anesthetic for medical purposes, the west didn't catch on until the late 1900s
- cocaine was never produced by bolivians or peruvians. it was western countries that came up with the refined product that quickly became a huge problem in the developped world.
- Freud was the first recorded cocaine user in the world.
- the main ingredient of coca cola was originally coca
- since cocaine became a problem in the west, political forces have been trying to cut it off at the source by making coca cultivation illegal. this in turn has all sorts of social and spiritual implications for indigenous people in Bolivia and Peru who still use coca on a daily basis (there are no known health problems associated with chewing coca). it is so important to the people here than they even use it as a currency for bartering in markets.
well, that's all i got for now. the moral of this story is - The coca leaf is not a drug!
Christine
Let's see how much I can remember:
- when the spanish invaded bolivia and peru, they made chewing coca illegal because they thought it was 'diabolical'. it's interesting that this was before cocaine existed, so the leaf was not known as a drug...it was only made illegal because of the important social and spiritual role that it has for the indigenous people that spain was trying to convert to catholicism.
- when they noticed that productivity in the gold and silver mines dropped significantly when the miners couldn't chew coca, they actually did a complete 180 and made it mandatory for the miners to use coca and imposed a tax on its purchase.
- indigenous people have been using coca for ages as an anesthetic for medical purposes, the west didn't catch on until the late 1900s
- cocaine was never produced by bolivians or peruvians. it was western countries that came up with the refined product that quickly became a huge problem in the developped world.
- Freud was the first recorded cocaine user in the world.
- the main ingredient of coca cola was originally coca
- since cocaine became a problem in the west, political forces have been trying to cut it off at the source by making coca cultivation illegal. this in turn has all sorts of social and spiritual implications for indigenous people in Bolivia and Peru who still use coca on a daily basis (there are no known health problems associated with chewing coca). it is so important to the people here than they even use it as a currency for bartering in markets.
well, that's all i got for now. the moral of this story is - The coca leaf is not a drug!
Christine
No hay cambio!
Sorry, no change!
When you go to a bank machine in La Paz, it spits out 100B notes (equal to about 12USD). And yet for most day to day interactions, these bills are completely useless. Things are very cheap here, and no one has change. Those who do guard it closely. To the point that it seems they would rather not make a sale than part with their small bills and be stuck with a 100!
Forseeing that this might be an even bigger problem in rural areas where money is more scarce, Jodie and I headed to the bank today to get enough money and in small enough bills to be useful for the rest of our time in Bolivia (we don't plan on seeing any more banks for quite a while!). By the time I was through with the teller, I had 3 different pockets completely stuffed with Bolivianos in denominations of 10, 20 and 50! Even though it didn't amount to a ton of money, it was our allowance for the next month or so and it felt quite conspicuous. We left the bank sweating as though we had just robbed the place and bee-lined it for our hotel!
Christine
When you go to a bank machine in La Paz, it spits out 100B notes (equal to about 12USD). And yet for most day to day interactions, these bills are completely useless. Things are very cheap here, and no one has change. Those who do guard it closely. To the point that it seems they would rather not make a sale than part with their small bills and be stuck with a 100!
Forseeing that this might be an even bigger problem in rural areas where money is more scarce, Jodie and I headed to the bank today to get enough money and in small enough bills to be useful for the rest of our time in Bolivia (we don't plan on seeing any more banks for quite a while!). By the time I was through with the teller, I had 3 different pockets completely stuffed with Bolivianos in denominations of 10, 20 and 50! Even though it didn't amount to a ton of money, it was our allowance for the next month or so and it felt quite conspicuous. We left the bank sweating as though we had just robbed the place and bee-lined it for our hotel!
Christine
Friday, January 19, 2007
The day that could have been
January 18th, 2007 started out like any other. We were lazing in our room at the youth hostel in La Paz, Bolivia when all of a sudden an apollo 25 paper spacecraft came soaring in through the window. Folded into it was a note issuing a challenge that may have changed our lives:
"Go a block and a half down the street and pick up a small package that will be waiting for you there. It is to be delivered to an oasis high up in the Bolivian altiplano. Your route will cross some of the most difficult terrain that you have ever encountered. Llamas are the animals best suited to carry you on this journey - they will be waiting for you in the Plaza San Fransisco. You will not be disappointed with the reward that you will receive should you succeed. Good Luck."
Not being ones to turn down a challenge, we hopped out of bed and quickly collected the parcel and our llamas. Downtown La Paz proved a difficult place to learn to ride llamas. The aggressive, honking drivers frightened our steeds, who nearly threw us off several times before we finally reached the city limits.
But this was not to be the hardest part - before reaching the oasis, we had to ford a raging river filled by the monsoon rains, cross a snowy pass at 4800m and fend of swooping condors. Throughout these hardships, we were chewing coca leaves to relieve our altitude sickness.
At long last, when we thought that we could not go on any longer, the oasis appeared.
In the middle of the clear blue lake, two princes were floating in a totora boat, fishing and enjoying cold beer in the warm sunshine. When they saw us approach, they paddled in to shore and and congratulated us. They invited us to feast with them, and took the package that we had carried from La Paz. In it were four Whopper Combos from Burger King.
As we ate, they told us about the reward for our success: we would be granted a guided cycling tour through some of the most spectacular mountains of Switzerland!!!!
After our meal, we laid back for a nap in the warmth of the oasis. When we finally woke up, we were back in our hostel and it was January 19th.
"Go a block and a half down the street and pick up a small package that will be waiting for you there. It is to be delivered to an oasis high up in the Bolivian altiplano. Your route will cross some of the most difficult terrain that you have ever encountered. Llamas are the animals best suited to carry you on this journey - they will be waiting for you in the Plaza San Fransisco. You will not be disappointed with the reward that you will receive should you succeed. Good Luck."
Not being ones to turn down a challenge, we hopped out of bed and quickly collected the parcel and our llamas. Downtown La Paz proved a difficult place to learn to ride llamas. The aggressive, honking drivers frightened our steeds, who nearly threw us off several times before we finally reached the city limits.
But this was not to be the hardest part - before reaching the oasis, we had to ford a raging river filled by the monsoon rains, cross a snowy pass at 4800m and fend of swooping condors. Throughout these hardships, we were chewing coca leaves to relieve our altitude sickness.
At long last, when we thought that we could not go on any longer, the oasis appeared.
In the middle of the clear blue lake, two princes were floating in a totora boat, fishing and enjoying cold beer in the warm sunshine. When they saw us approach, they paddled in to shore and and congratulated us. They invited us to feast with them, and took the package that we had carried from La Paz. In it were four Whopper Combos from Burger King.
As we ate, they told us about the reward for our success: we would be granted a guided cycling tour through some of the most spectacular mountains of Switzerland!!!!
After our meal, we laid back for a nap in the warmth of the oasis. When we finally woke up, we were back in our hostel and it was January 19th.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
La Paz -WOW!
I think I am having a sensory overload at the moment. Cars, busses, and vans buzzing everywhere honking like crazy. Most have men hanging out of them constantly yelling prices and destinations ... also diesel exhaust pumping out of them like you would not believe. Crossing the street is an art that we are slowly learning. You must wait for the perfect moment to dart out lane by lane and you often find that you are standing in the middle with vehicles passing on each side. Another very reliable method is to find one of the little ladies to stick to as they wander through the traffic - they seem to have it figured out.
We just came back from Mercado Negro; blocks and blocks of little market stands selling everything from mouse traps to lingrie. There are little round Bolivian women dressed in layers upon layers of bright clothing. They are minding the stands and are often crafting more merchandise. Everything is incredibly colourful and completely fascinating.
The smells go from sweet fruit to raw meat and fish, all of which is neatly laid out under on the small stands.
People are so strong - you see them walking with huge loads tied with rope or cloth onto their backs, slowly bumping their way through the crowds.
Chris and I have been practicing our undercover photography as we wander through the bustling streets. You´ve got to be quick and descreet, often it´s a shot from the hip. Yes, we are that good. ;)
There is so much more to describe, but I believe my brain is shutting down from all of the activity - hopefully our pictures will help to show more of what we are experiancing here... I need a nap!
-Jodie
We just came back from Mercado Negro; blocks and blocks of little market stands selling everything from mouse traps to lingrie. There are little round Bolivian women dressed in layers upon layers of bright clothing. They are minding the stands and are often crafting more merchandise. Everything is incredibly colourful and completely fascinating.
The smells go from sweet fruit to raw meat and fish, all of which is neatly laid out under on the small stands.
People are so strong - you see them walking with huge loads tied with rope or cloth onto their backs, slowly bumping their way through the crowds.
Chris and I have been practicing our undercover photography as we wander through the bustling streets. You´ve got to be quick and descreet, often it´s a shot from the hip. Yes, we are that good. ;)
There is so much more to describe, but I believe my brain is shutting down from all of the activity - hopefully our pictures will help to show more of what we are experiancing here... I need a nap!
-Jodie
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
40 hours on bus later...
...and we're in the highest capital in the world - La Paz, Bolivia. With headaches and very high heart rates because of the altitude. Walking into the office at the border (4500m) got my heart rate to 100bpm. Hauling our bikes up the stairs in La Paz (3700m) got it to 160! I wonder how riding with a 50 pound trailer will feel?!
More on the awesomeness of being in La Paz when my head clears a little.
Christine
More on the awesomeness of being in La Paz when my head clears a little.
Christine
Friday, January 12, 2007
Crazy Canucks Hit Puerto Natales
We celebrated the end of our hiking and one of Anthony's last nights in Chile in fine style in Puerto Natales. With a bunch of others from our hostel, we enjoyed a fancy all-you-can-eat parilla (BBQ), then hit the liquor store up for some pisco and coke and played cards and enjoyed piscolas until it was time to head to the live Elvis impersonator that was entertaining the town that night. As seems to be the norm down here, the party lasted until the sun was on its way up. Never a dull moment...
Christine
Christine
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Pain on the Circuit of Paine
Back in town after 7 days and 112kms on the circuit of pain and resting all of our aching muscles and joints. We've definitely learned that biking muscles and hiking muscles are not the same and getting back on our bikes in a week or so will feel like quite a treat!
On our first day in the park, we took advantage of the blue skies and made the steep climb up to see the Torres del Paine, the incredible granite towers that are the centrepieces of the park.
Not being one to do things the easy way, I decided to sprain my ankle on our first evening. I'd love to impress you all with some exciting story about how it happened, but the plain and boring truth is that I was walking down the stairs out of the bathroom at the campground and bailed.
I took the next day off and spent as much of it as possible with my foot stuck in a glacial stream hoping that the swelling would go down enough for me to hike the next day. Jodie kept me company, but I was jealous of Anthony who went for an awesome ridge walk overlooking the towers and came back with a handful of crystals he had found on the rarely-travelled ridge.
The next day, we packed up camp, Jodie and Anthony taped my foot up solidly with a combo of athletic and duct tape and we were off on the circuit.
For the first 2 days, the trail followed lush valleys full of daisies and other flowers. The green vegetaton, brilliant blue glacial lakes and flowers combined to create a beautiful and colorful landscape that made for very pleasant hiking.
Then it was up over the pass, offering great views of the surrounding peaks and the enormous Grey Glacier that flows down off of the Patagonian Ice Cap. The hike up to the saddle was long but gradual and the real work began with the descent. The trail plunged more or less straight down from the saddle for 3 knee-jarring hours. Because I was favoring my sprained ankle, I ended up with a swollen and sore knee on the other leg from letting it take all of the abuse. Jodie and Anthony had some good laughs watching me hobble around camp and getting up and down that night!
The rest of hike was along rocky hillsides (which reminded me of northern Ontario) overlooking lakes of all shades of blue and green.
We woke yesterday morning to rain and very low clounds and decided that there wouldn't be much to see with such weather and hiked back to the trailhead, calling it quits a day earlier than we planned. Even with some rain on the last day, we were incredibly lucky with the weather. A man we met who was leaving as we were arriving told us that the had had either snow or rain every day for the week that they were there!
Overall, a great week of hiking, aches and pains and all!
Christine
On our first day in the park, we took advantage of the blue skies and made the steep climb up to see the Torres del Paine, the incredible granite towers that are the centrepieces of the park.
Not being one to do things the easy way, I decided to sprain my ankle on our first evening. I'd love to impress you all with some exciting story about how it happened, but the plain and boring truth is that I was walking down the stairs out of the bathroom at the campground and bailed.
I took the next day off and spent as much of it as possible with my foot stuck in a glacial stream hoping that the swelling would go down enough for me to hike the next day. Jodie kept me company, but I was jealous of Anthony who went for an awesome ridge walk overlooking the towers and came back with a handful of crystals he had found on the rarely-travelled ridge.
The next day, we packed up camp, Jodie and Anthony taped my foot up solidly with a combo of athletic and duct tape and we were off on the circuit.
For the first 2 days, the trail followed lush valleys full of daisies and other flowers. The green vegetaton, brilliant blue glacial lakes and flowers combined to create a beautiful and colorful landscape that made for very pleasant hiking.
Then it was up over the pass, offering great views of the surrounding peaks and the enormous Grey Glacier that flows down off of the Patagonian Ice Cap. The hike up to the saddle was long but gradual and the real work began with the descent. The trail plunged more or less straight down from the saddle for 3 knee-jarring hours. Because I was favoring my sprained ankle, I ended up with a swollen and sore knee on the other leg from letting it take all of the abuse. Jodie and Anthony had some good laughs watching me hobble around camp and getting up and down that night!
The rest of hike was along rocky hillsides (which reminded me of northern Ontario) overlooking lakes of all shades of blue and green.
We woke yesterday morning to rain and very low clounds and decided that there wouldn't be much to see with such weather and hiked back to the trailhead, calling it quits a day earlier than we planned. Even with some rain on the last day, we were incredibly lucky with the weather. A man we met who was leaving as we were arriving told us that the had had either snow or rain every day for the week that they were there!
Overall, a great week of hiking, aches and pains and all!
Christine
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Whoops!
I can't believe we forgot to blog this!
We went skinny dipping in the Beagle Channel! With complete strangers! How fun!
We went skinny dipping in the Beagle Channel! With complete strangers! How fun!
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