Update: So the past 16 hours or so have been pretty wicked. I was sort of bummin' last night because I didn't have anybody to hang out with, I couldn't get a hold of my friends in Cusco without my phone, and I was sort of tired from the odd hours of sleep the night before. Then I even sat down and watched the movie 'The Breakup' in its entirety because it was on at the hostel. Good movie but not a mood lightener. It finished and I was like 'I gotta go do something' so I just left and started walking around the downtown area with the vague intention of finding live music, because listening to live music alone is less awkward than sitting in a bar with music playing. It's something to tune into, you know? So I walk for a while and eventually get herded into a bar where a band is about to play. They were actually really good, playing salsa and cumbia and pop-rock covers in English. I struck up a conversation with the girlfriend of one of the band members (initially not knowing she was unavailable), and the night seemed to be going alright. Even so, I was still going to turn in early because the whole thing seemed a little forced on my part. Then of course, God rewarded my forced attempt to have fun alone and one of my friends from Arequipa showed up with her boyfriend. We hung out together from then on, even went to another bar. I ended up having a great time dancing late into the night. Today, I have already: watched the Argentina-Germany game (ouch!), bought a hand made scarf and some gloves for around 4 bucks, lost the keys to both my hostel room and security locker, found said keys (yessss!), had a conversation with a friendly coffee shop owner about how we mutually love coffee, and.... talked to a girl who sent me to a guy who put me in touch with someone from the local climbing club. I'm going to meet him tonight and probably go out on the town as well as go climbing tomorrow morning. The power of asking around, of starting conversations, is incredible. As I had hoped, traveling by myself has allowed me to be open to a lot of opportunities and experiences.
Anyways.....Lake Titicaca and Ayaviri
Lake Titicaca.
So my bus from Arequipa to Puno arrived two hours late and the whole tour was waiting on me. Quite a few of the buses I've taken so far smell really bad, but it sort of teaches you a good lesson. Stuff smelling bad really doesn't matter. In every case after ten minutes I couldn't even smell it. Helps you see what's really important. So the agency rushes me to the port to board my tour boat and they take my big backpack and say they will keep it safe at a hotel. I do not bother to ask which hotel and simply nod and board the boat. Another of those seemingly impossible, but some how frequently occuring, instances in which my common sense fails me. So the boat takes us for a short ride to the Uro Islands, which are man-made floating islands that the Uro people inhabit. The whole Lake Titicaca thing is the most touristy thing I have done so far and this was the epitome of that vibe. I kinda figured that I wouldn't like organized tours. I was right. At least not with people I don't know. I'm alright at making friends but the vibe wasn't very facilitating for that. It's like everyone was doing their own thing. And it all just feels very put on, like what you are seeing is just a show despite the fact that you paid to see something real. I think this crazy paradox applies to every natural attraction in the world. Even so, the Uros were another lesson in getting past appearances to enjoy something. They are after all, floating pieces of land. They do not exist anywhere else in the world. As someone had to point out to me, that in itself is worth a lot of hassle.
So, my dad and I had postulated before the trip about how these things work and why the people who live on them choose to do so. I will now present a brief history. The Uros lived on the cost near Puno, and they were fishermen. Other tribes lived there as well. Disputes began to occur over arable land and the Uros spent more and more time in their boats. Eventually war broke out and the Uros decided to just live on their boats. They tied them all together to make little floating settlements. That being said, their boats were, and still are, made of this aquatic reed. When the boats would deteriorate from water exposure they would just pile more reeds on the top. Eventually the collection of boats just became a floating barge-dock sort of thing that the people could treat like land. It's pretty squishy to walk on actually. Every once in a while they just lay down some more reeds. The reed is the lifeblood of the Uro people, they literally use it for everything. They burn it to cook, they build their houses, boats and islands out of it, and you can even eat it! In fact, now when they want to build a new island they go out and cut huge cubes of the reed's root system out and tie them together and they use this as the base to begin building the island. No more wasteful creation of a whole new boat that's just gonna sink eventually.The community of these islands, which are all tied together, is actually pretty big, with three floating primary schools and a post office. Now for pictures.
The Uro islands. It's hard to tell but the whole horizon in front of the mountain is more islands.
A Uro boat. The top and the pontoons are made of the reed.
A shot of me just eatin' some reed.
So in Lake Titicaca there are two main islands that people visit: Amantani and Taquile. I chose this tour because it spent the night on Amantani, the supposedly less touristy of the two islands. From the Uros to Amantani took like 3 hours and I just passed out because I hadn't slept well on the bus. When we got there, this Argentinian lady (also traveling alone) and I were given to a homestay family. My 'mom's' name was Irma and she was really cool. In fact, that night she even said that something was 'jodido' which is spanish for f***ed. I know that sounds crass but the point is she was really laid back, welcoming and comfortable with us. I had hoped that Amantani would be this peaceful experience because it's out in the middle of this giant lake and the people don't have electricity or anything. People have been living on these islands out in the lake since before the Incas and expeditions are still finding ruins of ancient civilizations under the surface of the lake. I figured it would sort of be like going back in time. The island exceeded my expectations in this regard and was my favorite portion of the tour. Just relaxing, peaceful. A completely different way of life from the one I know. I watched Irma cook every meal on a handmade adobe oven/stove over a fire she built, and everything we ate was made with the vegetables that they grow on the island. They don't really eat meat there because it's expensive.
During my time in Amantani I got to: learn more Quechua, watch an impromptu soccer game showcasing both local and tourist talent, hike to ancient ruins on top of a hill, and dance a traditional Andean dance. to live traditional Andean music. in traditional Andean garb. The dance was held in the community hall that night and even though it was all structured and could have seemed hoaky, it was just too laid back; it seemed like the local people really dug it and did that sort of thing often. It will hold a special place in my memory. The next morning we woke up, said good bye to Irma and headed to the other big-name island of Taquile. We spent the morning and early afternoon walking a broad circle around the island. For me it was not that interesting because it seemed more of the same but even less authentic. We did however learn how the islanders wear their hats certain ways to indicate their dating life and that was pretty cool. From there we headed back to Puno. I'll sum up the story in a sec, but first we need pictures.
The rugged island of Amantani. Notice the homes made of adobe brick.
Irma (the blurry one) and her daughter Nely in the kitchen. The cooking stove is the brown box thing behind Nely.
The impromptu football game
The sunset through an arch at the ruins of Pachatata
Me, rocking the traditional Andean garb and that beard I was talking about
Me and Irma getting down at the dance
A cool shot of three Andinos contemplating the morning after.
So we got back to Puno and I asked the guide where my backpack was. She didn't know and said to ask the driver. The driver didn't know. They took me to the tour agency and they said it was at this hotel but they couldn't get a hold of the people there. The whole time, this knot in my stomach is growing and I'm convinced my stuff is gone. Turns out it was perfectly safe at Hotel Taquile and the people there were even nice enough tohelp me find an Internet cafe after I picked up my pack. Sometimes you just have to trust people. Especially when you are common sense impaired. Like me. If my stuff was gone, there wouldn't have been anything I could have done to make it magically appear. I spent all that time worrying and being in a crappy mood and it sort of made me hate Puno as a whole. All for nothing. After I got my stuff back Puno actually seemed pretty cool. I need to find a balance between being cautious and using good judgment and thinking every single person is going to take my stuff. The people at the hotel also gave me good advice about which bus to catch to Ayaviri, so after eating at a roast chicken places, I went to the bus station and got a ticket. These chicken places are awesome and common all over Peru. You get more delicious food than you can eat for the equivalent of like 4 bucks. And I can eat quite a bit so that's sort of saying something.
Ayaviri.
So I roll into Ayaviri at like 12 at night with only the name of a hotel and no reservation. It worries me somewhat that I found the hotel in another traveler's blog post from last year and I can't get a hold of the place on the phone. Turns out, the hotel was still around and I got a room for 10 soles (like 4 dollars). As the price would indicate, it wasn't that great (the door of the community toilet wouldn't even lock haha), but after all the buses getting to spread my crap out everywhere felt great. I should remind every one that the reason for this portion of the trip was that I hadn't really beeen climbing too much and I wanted to climb somemore. I had read about this place called Tinajani on the Internet and the closest town was Ayaviri. Additionally, I sort of wanted to do something off what most Peru travellers call 'the gringo trail' (Lima- Nazca-Arequipa-Puno-Cusco-Iquitos). This actually was not off the trail (on the road from Puno to Cusco), but it was an uncommon pit stop.
When I woke up the next morning I talked to the hotel's owner about my desire to go to Tinajani and he said it would be by cab only and wicked expensive to have somebody wait while I climbed for like 6 hours. I didn't like this option and while trying to figure out what to do I decided to crusie the town and buy some stuff for lunch. I walked through the market and bought fresh bread, fruit, raisins, and nuts. I also tried 'apple juice with quinuah' from a street vendor. It was delicious, like drinkable oatmeal (quinuah is a cereal similar to oats). When I got back to the hotel I continued to talk with the owner, who I think was trying to take me for all of my gringo money. I decided to ask the girl at the front desk and the cleaning lady what they knew about Tinajani and what to do. After some finagaling, the girl told me her brother could take me out there on his motor cycle. Like I said before, asking around will get you where you want to go. We spent the next few hours waiting for him to show up, but the time passed quickly as the ladies and I exchanged information about our very different cultures. Neither had ever seen American money and I gave them some to remember me by. In return they lent me a scarf for the chilly ride. They were buena gente or 'good people'. Soon after the brother William and I settled on a price for the journey, I was hanging on to the luggage rack of his motorbike heading for the hills. When we arrived at Tinajani 20 minutes later, way out of town, my breath was taken away. Super incredible. Really, really weird rock formations. For the next 6 hours or so I just walked around by myself. There were small farms in the canyon (I guess that's what you would call it) and I spoke to one guy for a bit, but otherwise it was a quiet, huge place and I was all alone. I sort of had it in my head that I would establish some more new routes like I did in Arequipa. The sense of adventure, of exploration, as well as isolation and remoteness, was sort of overwhelming. As I trucked through the narrow slot canyons and ran across precarious scree slopes over huge drops that I would regret falling from, I began to think about how crazy what I was doing was. How far away I was from, well, pretty much everything. Then I started to wonder if what I was doing was truly adventurous or if I was just pushing my own little comfort zone. Either way it was exhilirating. Standing above the whole canyon thing at one point in my walk, I felt a new level of independence I had never experienced before. All of that just to find some friggin' boulders. Again I was reminded how cool it is to have something like climbing in my life. Now, you're probably wondering what the heck this place looks like. Here are the sweet pics.
Sunlight playing on the hills above a small farm
I didn't climb a single thing that day. While beautiful, the rock quality was awful, pretty much sand and pebbles. Even though I didn't find what I was looking for, by the end of the day it didn't matter; the place was just that cool. As I waited on a rock for William to return and pick me up, an Andean woman approached me with a stern look and began to speak to me in Quechua. I didn't understand her language and she didn't speak Spanish. It was the first time since France two years back where I really just couldn't communicate with someone. She just kept shaking her head and looking mad. I originally thought this was due to the fact that I had just done my 'business' behind the rock on which I perched. I'm sitting there like 'O god, she's mad that I pooped behind this rock. Maybe this is her field. What is she gonna do to me?' After a bit this kid comes up who speaks Spanish and he explains that my suspicious actions behind the rock had caused the woman to think I was some sort of highway robber. People in the community had, in fact, recently been attacked. I asked him to explain that I was not a robber or thief and William arrived just in time to rescue me from the weird situation.
When I got back to Ayaviri, I went to an internet place and attempted to call my folks but there was no skype. Besides lacking skype, the computers also lacked the correct time, so I thought I needed to haul butt and get to the bus station to buy my ticket. I was wicked early and I planned on having to wait 3 and a half hours in the station freezing my parts off. I waited and froze, but right around the 3 hour mark I was informed that my 10:30 pm bus was broken and would not be coming. They gave me my money back. Stone. Cold. I had to find another bus and wait another 3 hours. That sucked. Especially when the 10:30 bus did show up around 11:30 and I had a ticket with a different company for a later bus. The joys of traveling cheaply. So I arrived at my hostel yesterday at 4 in the morning and the desk guy allowed me to sleep in the tv room on a giant pile of bean bags since I didn't technically have a reservation for that night/morning. I have vaugue memories of people coming in and out and watching brief snatches of Wimbeldon on the Tube. The rest has been said. Cusco is touristy but it seems chill and I like ti a lot. I don't know if I like it more than Arequipa, we'll have to see.
Whew! So that's it. I'm caught up. I'll let you know how climbing goes tomorrow. After that it'll be 4 days of silence as I hike the Inca trail to Macchu Picchu.
Ayaviri.
So I roll into Ayaviri at like 12 at night with only the name of a hotel and no reservation. It worries me somewhat that I found the hotel in another traveler's blog post from last year and I can't get a hold of the place on the phone. Turns out, the hotel was still around and I got a room for 10 soles (like 4 dollars). As the price would indicate, it wasn't that great (the door of the community toilet wouldn't even lock haha), but after all the buses getting to spread my crap out everywhere felt great. I should remind every one that the reason for this portion of the trip was that I hadn't really beeen climbing too much and I wanted to climb somemore. I had read about this place called Tinajani on the Internet and the closest town was Ayaviri. Additionally, I sort of wanted to do something off what most Peru travellers call 'the gringo trail' (Lima- Nazca-Arequipa-Puno-Cusco-Iquitos). This actually was not off the trail (on the road from Puno to Cusco), but it was an uncommon pit stop.
When I woke up the next morning I talked to the hotel's owner about my desire to go to Tinajani and he said it would be by cab only and wicked expensive to have somebody wait while I climbed for like 6 hours. I didn't like this option and while trying to figure out what to do I decided to crusie the town and buy some stuff for lunch. I walked through the market and bought fresh bread, fruit, raisins, and nuts. I also tried 'apple juice with quinuah' from a street vendor. It was delicious, like drinkable oatmeal (quinuah is a cereal similar to oats). When I got back to the hotel I continued to talk with the owner, who I think was trying to take me for all of my gringo money. I decided to ask the girl at the front desk and the cleaning lady what they knew about Tinajani and what to do. After some finagaling, the girl told me her brother could take me out there on his motor cycle. Like I said before, asking around will get you where you want to go. We spent the next few hours waiting for him to show up, but the time passed quickly as the ladies and I exchanged information about our very different cultures. Neither had ever seen American money and I gave them some to remember me by. In return they lent me a scarf for the chilly ride. They were buena gente or 'good people'. Soon after the brother William and I settled on a price for the journey, I was hanging on to the luggage rack of his motorbike heading for the hills. When we arrived at Tinajani 20 minutes later, way out of town, my breath was taken away. Super incredible. Really, really weird rock formations. For the next 6 hours or so I just walked around by myself. There were small farms in the canyon (I guess that's what you would call it) and I spoke to one guy for a bit, but otherwise it was a quiet, huge place and I was all alone. I sort of had it in my head that I would establish some more new routes like I did in Arequipa. The sense of adventure, of exploration, as well as isolation and remoteness, was sort of overwhelming. As I trucked through the narrow slot canyons and ran across precarious scree slopes over huge drops that I would regret falling from, I began to think about how crazy what I was doing was. How far away I was from, well, pretty much everything. Then I started to wonder if what I was doing was truly adventurous or if I was just pushing my own little comfort zone. Either way it was exhilirating. Standing above the whole canyon thing at one point in my walk, I felt a new level of independence I had never experienced before. All of that just to find some friggin' boulders. Again I was reminded how cool it is to have something like climbing in my life. Now, you're probably wondering what the heck this place looks like. Here are the sweet pics.
Tinajani
Me rocking out and putting the timer on my camera to use. Consider the fact that I am pretty much completely alone in this remote canyon doing this. What a weirdo.
I liked this formation becuase it looks so much like a tower with a giant door. Really cool.
Example of the crazy boulders.
Sunlight playing on the hills above a small farm
When I got back to Ayaviri, I went to an internet place and attempted to call my folks but there was no skype. Besides lacking skype, the computers also lacked the correct time, so I thought I needed to haul butt and get to the bus station to buy my ticket. I was wicked early and I planned on having to wait 3 and a half hours in the station freezing my parts off. I waited and froze, but right around the 3 hour mark I was informed that my 10:30 pm bus was broken and would not be coming. They gave me my money back. Stone. Cold. I had to find another bus and wait another 3 hours. That sucked. Especially when the 10:30 bus did show up around 11:30 and I had a ticket with a different company for a later bus. The joys of traveling cheaply. So I arrived at my hostel yesterday at 4 in the morning and the desk guy allowed me to sleep in the tv room on a giant pile of bean bags since I didn't technically have a reservation for that night/morning. I have vaugue memories of people coming in and out and watching brief snatches of Wimbeldon on the Tube. The rest has been said. Cusco is touristy but it seems chill and I like ti a lot. I don't know if I like it more than Arequipa, we'll have to see.
Whew! So that's it. I'm caught up. I'll let you know how climbing goes tomorrow. After that it'll be 4 days of silence as I hike the Inca trail to Macchu Picchu.
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