Lake Titicaca 05.16.08 – 05.19.08

I hate to burst the geography bubble, but Lake Titicaca is not the highest lake in the world, nor is it the world’s highest navigable body of water (a made up superlative just for Lake Titicaca). Instead, it’s the second largest lake on the continent and happens to sit at the high altitude of 3,800 m/12,500 ft. The mystique of the lake doesn’t exist in measurements or quantifiers, but is rather nestled into its history, prominence in folklore, and beautiful shores encircled by Andean peaks and traditional indigenous villages.

Our base for exploring the area was Puno, which is a somewhat drab city despite its large traditional population, variety of folkloric celebrations, and proximity to the lake. On a brighter side the high altitude, thin air, and wintry lack of cloud cover created sun light that was shocking permeating and painfully hot while the aridity of the season meant the shade was shockinglierly (means more shocking, look it up) frigid.

I’ve made it clear in previous posts that I dislike tours and the people that take them, but that certainly doesn’t prevent me from indulging when I find it convenient and cost effective. Putting up with other tourists and the inability to choose my own schedule sucks, but this tour was el cheapo (actually I’m el cheapo). So we piled on the boat with the rest of the lot and pulled up to las islas flotantes (manmade islands created out of reeds) and some of the lake’s traditional islands.

Truthfully, I enjoyed the experience, we spent a night in the island of Amantani where we witnessed a seemingly untouched way of life and spent the night with a traditional family in their even more traditional home. The natural beauty of the island was noteworthy, but even more remarkable was the soccer induced collapse of my lungs from playing locals at over 4,000 m/13,100ft of elevation.

All in all Lake Titicaca was one of Peru’s true highlights for me, and although it may not warrant all the superlatives it more than makes up for it by the sheer hilarity of its name.

La Selva, Madre de Dios 05.12.08 - 05.15.08

After Machu Picchu Rosa and I made our way back to Cuzco through the Sacred Valley which involved stops in a few of its towns and ruins. These stops included Ollantaytambo, Urubamba, and Pisac as well as several colorful festivals with all manner of dance and costume. The festivities were very geniune and a complete surprise, but we were still forced to rush back to Cuzco. Our rush was induced by a planned flight to a portion of the Amazon river basin located in the Madre de Dios region of Peru.

Flying from the Cuzco to Puerto Maldonado (capital of Madre de Dios) only takes around 30 minutes, but the differences between the dry mountain rimed highland valley of Cuzco and the flat swath of saturated green of the Amazon river basin couldn't be starker. We were greeted by a delightful slap of moist air as we stepped onto the tarmac, but the heat was a welcome change from bitter cold of the Andean nights we had just left.

Soon after arrival we found ourselves on a boat heading down river towards the Ecoamazonia Lodge, which turned out to be much more of a relaxing rainforest retreat than an intimidating lunge into the heart of the jungle. The lodge provided all of our meals, including lots of local cuisine (with plenty of vegetarian options), cute hut-like accommodations, and colorful birds lazily waddling around and squawking at passersby. We were also taken on hikes by a local guide and were able to see interesting wildlife, learn about loads of strange plants, climb into jungle canopies, and eat maggots (ok, that was just me, but it was delicious).

In the end even Rosa, who was scared to death of the bugs and the prospects of seeing an Anaconda, admitted that it was one of the most pleasantly relaxing places on our trip. After our time at the lodge things were a bit less relaxing however, as the temperature began to rise and a second outing involved a horrendously freighting, and assumably dangerous, canopy walk that was reminiscent of climbing a half-mile rope ladder. The end of our time in the jungle also spurred a confrontation with the local authorities when a local hotel owner in Puerto Maldonado called the cops on us...I don't really want to talk about it.

More posts to come

Sorry for the lapse in entries over the past month or so, I was in the progress of completing the life-absorbing CELTA (Certificate in English Language Teaching to Adults) program in Buenos Aires. Now that I’ve passed the program I’m in the process of relocating to Valparaiso, Chile to begin teaching English and hopefully catch-up on this blog and uploading more photos.

Machu Picchu 05.09.08

The problem with Machu Picchu is that if you step into Peru you somehow become obligated to see these famed Incan ruins and the Peruvian tourist authorities are all too aware of this. This translates to the necessity of arranging every aspect of a visit ahead of time and for an inflated price to boot. For example, you have two options for reaching the ruins form Cuzco: 1. expensive train ride and 2. expensive trek, and both need to be arranged in advanced, have limited spaces, and sell out fast during the high season.

The hopes and dreams of many a South American tourist are focused on the well cute stones of the residences and temples in an unreal setting of cloud forests and sharp rocky peaks. Learning from past experiences with archaeological wonders I reasonably concluded that this once desolate mountain sanctuary would be overrun by bus groups, souvenir hawkers, and mounds of trash - I couldn´t wait!

Rosa and I selected `expensive train ride´ as our approach from Cuzco and it was in a word `hilarious´, and in several words - `a confirmation of Machu Picchu preconceptions.´ The train was filled with tourists all with a single destination, all dreaming of the time they could return home to their friends and families with a photo of them containing mountains, ruins, clouds, and llamas all in perfect symmetry (if they´re really lucky they might be giving the llama bunny ears or jumping in the air, that´ll make people jealous!). The ride was absurd and actually caused me to laugh some points. I don´t mean to offend anyone, but why would you film a train ride? I´m not talking about filming a few seconds of it, I mean the majority of the ride sitting with your camera haplessly focused out the window on passing trees and the like. Train rides are boring enough as they stand, is it somehow improved by viewing it in the comfort of your own living room?

After arriving in the access town it was only a matter of climbing 1,000s of steps to the top of the ruins. We arrived at the site´s entrance late enough in the day that all the tour groups had already gone. As the sun moved closer towards the horizon the sense of solitude continued to mount. And although I greatly enjoyed the scenery, flowers, completeness of the ruins, and random llamas, it was the sheer absence of people that brought a smile to my jaded face.

I too am playing into Machu Picchu hype by making an entire entry devoted to it but it really is an unreal location for ruins. I can admit that many of my preconceptions proved unfounded, and that it was a worthwhile, and expensive, experience - and even more importantly than my own appreciation of the site was that I snagged an epic photo of me looking like Indian Jones!

Cuzco 05.06.08 - 05.08.08, 05.11.08

The spot that has rightfully been dubbed "the gringo capital of South America" has become that way for a reason...there are tons and tons and metric tons of wealthy white westerners, and maybe just maybe a slew of important cultural, artistic, and historical attractions - maybe. Cuzco was in many ways similar to Dubrovnik or Venice, beautiful cities with much to offer a visitor due to long histories as cultural centers, but their modern incarnations more closely resemble Pier 49 in San Francisco than their former glories.

From Lima it was a remarkably simple hour plane ride that culminated in what must be the most unequivocally touristy airport in South America, if not the world. It was a perfect example of how this area would differ from the rest of South America, gone was the ease of travel, the simplicity, and the low costs. In their places were tour operators a-hounding, and indigenous women with llamas a-requesting money for photos.

Despite my reservations about the the world´s navel I still enjoyed myself, although my trip to the emergency room brought on by variable freezing and burning fevers didn´t help (antibiotics are a way of life in South America). I´m a total geek when it comes to history so something about the clash between the Spanish and the indigenous empires of the Americas really makes me dork out. I´m also a fan of good international fare, and the San Blas area of the city had no lack of hip/delicious restaurants, or adorable winding cobblestoned passages for that matter.

Another highlight of the area was abusing the beautiful riparian valleys North of the city by white water rafting down the class III´s of the Urubamba River. The gorgeous setting and moderate trill of the rapids more than made up for my numb toes and the insanely annoying, spoiled, and juvenile gap yearers´ that were part of our team - can you imagine getting mad at the craft leader for yelling out commands while the boat´s going over rapids?

Steeped in history, with some really nice Incan stone work, and gosh darn beautiful, I guess I can´t blame people for wanting to come here, but I gave it a shot anyway.

Lima 05.02.08 - 05.05.08

Lima is the type of city that takes time to find its high points and as such my first impressions were of a city that was somewhat chaotic, noisy, polluted, disorganized and yet historically interesting with accents of natural beauty. As you would expect, the three days that I spent there did not provide for complete insight - nor did they leave me with an overwhelmingly positive flavor of this sprawling capital.

Lima´s Plaza de Armas was the most attractive that I´d seen in South America, but something about gangs of tourists (the touristy variety no less) always seems to spoil the moment for me. You´re suddenly in a museum or amusement park, certainly not an exotic local that provides an inherent sense of discovery. It might be because I´m jaded or because I had a horrifically bad lunch, but the center just didn´t seem to have much to offer beyond its history of Spanish imperial rule with some neat catacombs and funny mannequins depicting victims of the Spanish Inquisition thrown in.

Miraflores and Barranco, Lima´s famed upscale suburbs, give the visitor a pleasant feeling in comparison to the crumbling buildings and pollution of el centro, but they lack true identity, and are instead generic amalgamations of western standards and Peruvian realities. Sure there are decent restaurants, green spaces, and some excessively expensive retail, but there was something missing - and it certainly wasn´t a mall built into the side of a ocean side cliff (Larcomar).

In summation, Lima´s no Mexico City in terms of culture, ruins, or cuisine, but it more than makes up for these vaguely important urban attractions in terms of its superior collection of erotic Incan pottery.

Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca 04.29.08 - 05.01.08

For me the phrase "idyllic mountain settings" once triggered images of valleys in the Swiss Alps, however after witnessing the Cordillera Blanca my mountain visualization reaction will remain forever altered. The Cordillera Blanca, or white range, is aptly named for the purity of its numerous summits, jetting up dramatically from the dry plain of Huascarán National Park. The area is famed for its boundless trekking and climbing opportunities and for the highest peaks of Peru, with many over 6,000m (Huascarán is 6,768m or 22,205ft).

We stayed in the regional capitol, Huaraz, which is not often likened to a picturesque town of Switzerland, but is rather thought of as a hectic Andean outdoor adventure mecca - complete with international restaurants and gobs of hostels. Despite the city´s somewhat aggressively gritty sensibilities, the mountains and communities that surround it remind you that the area is truly special. A short hike north of the city placed us in some intriguing indigenous communities that enjoyed a superfluity of political graffiti and clear views of startlingly austere peaks.

Unfortunately our scheduling didn´t permit us enough time for a proper trek in the region (if anyone is interested doing one at a later date you know where to reach me) and were thus relegated to entering the park for a single day. After a quick visit to the village of Yungay and an off-road taxi journey with three young Limeños we were able to visit the truly stunning lakes of LLanganuco and their truly stunning mountainous surroundings. Clear lakes, pastoral animals on green pastures, fertile streams, and waterfalls plummeting off the glaciated Yosemite-like walls of the valley made for a perfect foreground to the unreal peaks engulfing us.

On the return journey (combis + mountain roads = journey) from the National Park we decided to pay our respects to the worst natural disaster in modern Andean history. The current village of Yungay lays about a kilometer from Yungay Viejo, which was turned into a monstrously large cemetery/monument by the 1970 Anchash Earthquake and mudslide that buried the town and upwards of 25,000 residents. The former town is a starkly beautiful and yet tragic place - it´s appearance is that of a garden, funneling visitors and mourners towards the remaining church facade, which contains a hollowness that perfectly frames the serene destructiveness of the looming mountains.

Despite the tragedies, Huascaran is one of the few places in South America that has compelled me to return. A mere 8 hours north of Lima, it would be a mistake to come to Peru and neglect its most majestic settings.