Huaraz: at least it's got oxygen

Okay, it's not often that a bus can be exciting enough to blog about, but today is one of those times. For our 9-hour overnight ride from Trujillo to Huaraz, we decided to splurge on the ultra-super-VIP, gold-covered, unicorn-fart bus. Not only did the plush, mattress-sized seats go all the way back, but we also got a blanket and a pillow, and not one of those static-y blankets that you get on airplanes, either, but a Peruvian, llama-wool cocoon of happiness. We were offered coffee and tea as soon as the bus started moving, and then they gave us a nectarine juice box and cake. CAKE. I half expected the stewardess to start offering everyone coke and lap dances to accompany the in-bus movie. (It turned out that I was not far off: as soon as we got to our hostel, after what turned out to be a TWELVE-hour ride, the host immediately welcomed us with mate de coca. Fortunately neither he nor his septuagenarian wife thought to offer us lap dances.)

If only the rest of Huaraz were so wonderful. The guidebook described Huaraz as a bustling metropolis next to ancient ruins, hot springs, and a gorgeous mountain range rife with trails, waterfalls, lakes, wildlife, and all that is good in the world. One of the peaks in this range is even rumored to be the mountain on the Paramount logo! Naturally, we found out the hard way that "bustling metropolis" is actually a euphemism for "tiny, rubble-strewn dump." And that "next to" actually means "3 hours away, down a dirt road, in a combi; Oh, and if you want to actually see anything before the clouds and rain roll in at 2pm, you have to wake up at 5am and be on your way by 6:30am. Have fun!" (We have since gotten a more specific guidebook.) We managed to do one day-trip to see one of the lakes, and found that although it was beautiful, it wasn't worth the excruciating pain in the ass (literally) of sitting in a combi for 6 hours to get there and back. (Perhaps Ross and I are a bit spoiled from the beauty of Iceland.)

Combis are a fascinating South American way of getting around. They're small buses that are meant to hold 12 people, but generally they stuff more like 20 in them. One guy 'drives' (I use the term loosely) while another, usually teenage guy hangs out the window, shouts their destination at pedestrians, and collects money when people hop on (and hop they must, for the combi will only stop for a maximum of .4 seconds to let people on). The first time we took one was quite intimidating. Ross and I were both shoved in with 2 other people in a 3-person seat, sitting right behind the driver on a bench facing everyone else on the combi, nervously guarding our pockets. Everyone was staring at us and we, in turn, were desperately trying to avoid eye-contact and communicable diseases while simultaneously trying to figure out how much and when to pay the prepubescent teen in charge of the fare. Directly across from us was a guy with a guinea pig in a bag on his lap. He was petting it and being somewhat affectionate, but because roasted guinea pig is such a common dish around here, we couldn't help but wonder if it was meant to be his afternoon snack.

(An interesting anecdote: When talking to one of our Peruvian guides about the combis, she asked us "What do you call the guy who hangs out the window and shouts?" as if it didn't even occur to her that this concept might not exist in Vancouver.)

By now, of course, we are nonchalant about it. We hail them from the side of the road like natives, palm down. We get incredibly annoyed if we're trying to hail one and it's already full. "They can still fit more people in there!" we shout with indignation. It's little things like that by which we proudly mark our progress from bumbling gringos to seasoned travelers. So it comes as no surprise that, while we felt comfortable enough to catch one up the mountain to see the lake, we quickly regretted our decision when we realized that 6 hours in one of these contraptions was about 5.5 hours too many. Maybe we're not so seasoned quite yet.

Our trip to the lake, although underwhelming, was a very good way to force some perspective on Huaraz. As the combi bumped along the dirt road up the mountain, we passed increasingly rural houses inhabited by increasingly poor locals. Many of the women were washing their clothes in tiny riverbeds... washing them as we went up, and 2 hours later, still washing them as we came back down. Damn. It made me appreciate even the cold showers we've had recently. Most of the houses lacked paint, fences, even windows; they were simply shelters made of wood or mud bricks. After that, Huaraz really did seem like a bustling metropolis.

However, perspective doesn't last. Today we weren't able to go anywhere because it's their election day, which means everything gets shut down, including the buses (and, delightfully, the infuriating parades). A gloomy mood came over us when we realized we were going to be stuck in Huaraz for the day ("Hey, at least there's running water" isn't consoling for very long), and we quickly started to crave any sort of distraction. It seemed like the perfect time to try the San Pedro cactus. This would've really turned things around and made for a great story, except that the cactus did absolutely nothing. I thought I was joking when I said that the guy probably sold us ground basil, except that the 'cactus' actually smelled like ground asparagus. So... there's that.



Tomorrow we're doing a tour of a rock forest 'nearby', and then making our way to Iquitos, a city in the middle of the Amazon jungle. That should provide a tad more inspiration. Perhaps soon you'll see a post about something other than cars and buses! That would be exciting.

Click here for more pictures of Huaraz and the 'surrounding' areas:

The emergence of the gringos

We're only into day 4 of our year-long trip, and already I've had enough thoughts to fill up a novel. Not sure where to start, so I will start with what is most prevalent in my mind.

A few days before we left, a friend asked me what creature comfort I would miss most during our travels. I wasn't quite sure how to answer, and mumbled something about safety. It turns out that the answer became abundantly clear to me on our very first day: hot water. The water system in Ecuador is... well, I don't want to say "abysmal," since the rest of the world will probably be even worse, but it definitely leaves a lot to be desired. However, the benefit of this is that my showers are down to about 10 minutes. We're saving the environment through sheer discomfort.

Another interesting aspect of the water system that's taken a few days to get used to: the pipes are so weak in Ecuador, that you're not allowed to throw toilet paper into the toilet, or the toilet will overflow. Instead you have to throw it into the trash can. At first this seemed really gross -- especially since I forgot a few times -- but after only a few days it seems almost normal. (Almost.)

However, all of that aside, it's been a marvelous trip so far. Quito was beautiful, and more rich and modern than I expected. It's divided up into 2 sections - Old Town, and New Town. Old Town is quite charming - post-colonial architecture, cobble-stone streets, and a view of The Virgen de Quito from everywhere. Plus, right next to our hostel was a gorgeous 115m tall gothic basilica that was so huge I couldn't even take a proper picture of it. Of course, we decided to climb to the very top of it on our first day in Quito. The sheer terror of climbing up rickety ladders at this height, combined with our altitude sickness, ensured that my legs were screaming at me when we came down. But wow, it was worth it. Such cool views, and such an adrenaline rush.

 

The main feeling so far: everywhere I go, I feel like a bumbling gringo (in a good way). For example, to go explore New Town yesterday, we decided to take the Trole bus. These buses are only 25 cents and go quite fast, so they're VERY VERY packed. So much so, that when you're exiting, you have to literally elbow your way through people. I guess Ross is more assertive about this sort of thing than I am, because he got to the door just fine, while I got stuck in the crowd. I was still about 4 feet from the door when the doors started to close. I panicked a bit and shouted "Ross! Wait!" and reached my hand out to him. He reached for my hand and started pulling me through the crowd of people, while the people on the bus were pushing me forward! With this teamwork (people here are so friendly) I was able to get out. I think my elbows are going to get a good workout on this trip.

Another example: When we finally got off the Trole, we decided to get some lunch. Lunch is the only meal that we have to get ourselves because we get breakfast and dinner at the hostel. We were trying to decide what to get, but didn't know what many of the words on the menu were. Unfortunately the dictionary we got isn't very good for food - most of the words we tried to look up weren't even in there. So we tried to order the cheapest thing on the menu, which was a portion of "merenza." Somehow we figured that this was probably vegetables, so it seemed safe. The waitress looked at us funny and made up a silly story about how you can only get merenza by itself between Monday and Friday. We figured she was just trying to get us to order something more expensive, so instead we ordered rice, with fish, and merenza. When the meals came, it turned out that merenza was a side of beans. So we had basically been trying to order a side of beans for lunch! Again we laughed about that for a long time (and at that point realized why the waitress was trying to get us to order something else - she was actually trying to help us!) That's right about the time that we came up with the name of this blog.

On Sunday they close down the streets to cars and you're free to walk (or bike) all along the streets. This was really nice, because there's so much traffic normally that it was great to be able to enjoy the cute architecture without all the smog in your face. We were also surprised by the fact that there were performances going on all around the city. We saw 4 different bands playing, dancers doing an indigenous-looking dance, and even skateboarders showing off! I really enjoyed this tradition. It made me wish that Vancouver did something like that once a week. It felt very alive!

On our last day in Quito we finally went up to see La Virgen de Quito up close. I was most surprised to see that, in addition to all the tourists and locals hanging out up there, there were lots and lots of dogs. Probably around 20 or more were running around. I asked the bathroom attendant why there were so many dogs. She said that when people don't want their dogs, they drop them here. They are then given food and water by the tourists and by the employees, they are neutered, and (if I understood her Spanish correctly) they check up on them every 3 months to make sure they're healthy. Overall it doesn't seem like such a bad life, even though they're stray.

I think my favorite part about Quito has been the hostel. It's such a fun place to be and it's so easy to meet people here (plus, the view is indescribable). Before we left, everyone kept telling us that you inevitably meet lots of cool people when you travel. I was a bit worried about this at the time, because I know both Ross and I can be a bit shy and anti-social at times. But somehow it just happens, and it's wonderful.

The first 2 nights I was going a bit insane living in dorms. It turns out that having personal space is important! Who knew? Now, 4 days later, I don't mind the dorms so much. The secret, in case anyone is wondering, is lots and lots of baggies. I got a baggie for my tops, a baggie for my pants and undies, a baggie for my morning/evening toiletries, a baggie for my shower toiletries, a baggie for my laundry... It sounds silly, but it's the only way to stay sane when you're unable to unpack and lay out your stuff. I swear by baggies now.

Our last night in Quito, we decided to book another night in the hostel (we weren't ready to leave yet), so we decided to splurge on a private room for the night. It felt so luxurious, even though it was just a bed in a room. But it's your own bed, and your own space, with no other people in the bunk underneath you, and you don't have to worry about waking people up - pure luxury! Oh for priorities shifting.

Now we're in a city called Baños. This city has hot springs, a huge waterfall, and you can also do sports like zip-lining, mountain biking or water rafting for very cheap. We are planning on meeting up with a couple we met a few days ago in the hostel and going rafting with them. Looking forward to soaking in some HOT water!