Thursday, November 29, 2018

Food Poisoning, Bus Rides and Chile

Not quite Despacito, but close enough


In which we did acquire that other side of the family in Lima, receiving them at the Airbnb minus one crucial bit: Mom’s backpack containing all her things, failed to appear on the conveyor belt in Miami. Her bag never even left Denver, and now she was in a foreign country with no clothes, no working phone number, and no way to explain to the airline that she was not in a different part of America where the bag could be sent in one day, but actually overseas, and could they please send her bag to Lima, Peru. Airlines are notoriously hard to deal with in any case, and the ‘low cost carriers’ even more so, so I imagine you can understand the difficulty we were in. Eventually after many Skype calls, Mom found out that they would send her bag with FedEx. Oh boy, this is where we get to the good part. She tried explaining to the lady at Frontier that this was South America, not the Southwest, and that they certainly don’t honor the FedEx delivery code here. Case in point, Mom and I had to go pick up the bag at the Peruvian associate of FedEx, all the way across town, in the more dangerous, industrial part of Lima. We had an Uber come pick us up and he was kind enough to wait for us. Mom had her passport and they let her into the facility, but I was not allowed in. We tried explaining that I was her daughter and that I needed to come with, but the lady at the gate was so uninterested in it, so I just made Mom go inside. Honestly I even showed the lady a photo of my passport on my phone, but she wouldn’t accept it. Ooh but I was mad, it was so idiotic to me that she could see we were mother and daughter, but she wouldn’t let me go in to a stupid mail facility. I stood outside for awhile, but then decided screw it, you wont let me in, you’ll have to deal with the consequences, and sat down right there on the floor. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but there was nothing else I could do. That lady made me sit outside for 2 hours, just waiting.

Plaza das Armas

The previous days we spent time getting Mom clothes because though the airline couldn't seem to locate her bag in time to get it on her flight they did give her a voucher so that she could buy clothes, a toothbrush, that kind of thing. We also couldn’t leave Lima until we had the backpack so we decided to recoup and get ready to leave. During that time, Dad went to a restaurant by himself, and ate dinner. By 12 that night he was in the bathroom, throwing it all up. He had bad food poisoning. It took him two days to recover from that, one day of just staying in bed, and one day of small walks.
The Light Fountain





 That Sunday, at 5 pm, we bid adieu to Lima, the good parts and the bad, got on the overnight bus to Arequipa, 1800 km south, and reclined our chairs 180 degrees. As my grandad used to say, this is really living! After a really good sleep, with the occasional view of the darkened desert, when a particularly bad bump awakened me, we arrived at 8 am and tried to find a taxi big enough to haul our 4 big rucksacks, Mom and Dads rolly’s, Jabez and my own carry-on backpack’s and assorted food bag, pillows, and sleeping bags. Ah, it’s always fun to travel with my family. We just can’t seem to travel with what we can carry. We got to our place to stay for the night and were quite surprised to find that it was up 3 flights of stairs and that there was not place for 4 as advertised, but actually a double bed and a single. The joys of life on the move. The 3 of us(Dad, J, and of course moi) went out to get some heavenly calamari and ceviche, and bring some back for Mom.
 Upon returning to the room and Mom eating, we all made ready to go out and explore. I’d been complaining of my stomach hurting for about 20 minutes and so I decided to stay and sleep a little. Jabez bravely opted to stay with me. A rookie mistake. Within 40 minutes I was before the glorious throne and purging my stomach into it. Again, wonderful imagery, I’m aware. Indeed, I too now had food poisoning. Uhh, it was horrible, the single worst moment in South America so far. I probably spent 5 hours there, curled up in my sleeping bag on the bathroom floor, wishing it would end.

Sadly, I did not get 2 days to recover, because we had tickets to Tacna, on the border of Chile, on the second day. So, after a day of hanging around the room, and a night recovering, the next morning at 7 am we got two taxis, drove to the terminal and boarded the 6 hour-long bus to the border town. Dad took the front row seats on the top level of the bus, which we were excited about, until we realized that there was no A/C and that sitting in the front meant it was doubly hot and either you suffered through the heat to see the view or you closed the curtains for a small respite and ended up with nothing. We couldn’t get into the downstairs sitting area, which we were sure was air-conditioned, because the door was locked, so Mom and I ended up sitting on the stairs by the toilet,(wonderful) trying to cool down a little. And then, just like when we were in Egypt, the bus driver turned the A/C on before we got to the control (it’s like an inspection, you take all your bags to pass through an x-ray), and turned it off as soon as the police got off and we were on our way again. I have a real savory name for him, but this is a PG blog.

Once in Tacna, given that we had already made our decision not to stay the night, but push on to Arica, across the border, we went in search of a large taxi. Surprisingly we found one, and we paid the fee of 20 soles each, about 6 dollars, plus an extra 20 for the empty seat, because the larger taxis have 6 seats, one for the driver and 5 for the fare. He took us to the border control, helped us with the paperwork, and drove us the 60 km to Arica, where by a stroke of luck, a very very kind taxi driver and his passengers found and dropped us at our Airbnb, and when Dad tried to give the guy some money, he refused. That settled it for Dad. No one that we had met in Peru had been as selfless, so it was a refreshing shock in Chile.

Arica did not have a very large impact on me, other than it was definitely not the cleanest town, but our host, Hugo, made up for it threefold. He was exceptionally kind and even though his English and our Spanish was severely limited, he was very helpful in the next part of our journey, which is soon to come. He even drove us to the bus station, gave us a bottle of wine, and helped us load our bags on the bus. We bid Arica goodbye and toddled off to our next bus trip, this time a 5 hour one to the tiny town of Huara, an hour out of Iquique. 

Now to the crux of our trip southward;

We came to buy a camping car, but not your average camping car, a full size van.

We had been planning this trip since January, but Dad has been dreaming of it for much longer. We (mostly Dad) searched the web for cars, RV’s and campers for sale down south, in Chile and Argentina. Dad found one, a 2004 Coachmen Ford Mirada, 30 foot RV and started conversing with the owner, asking for specs and the like. We made our decision to go and check it out, and if it wasn’t what we were looking for, then we would continue on to Iquique, to the duty free zone.

We spent a day in the dusty truck stop that is Huara, scoping the van out and being driven out to El Gigante, a geoglyph in the middle of nowhere, reckoned to be about 1200 years old.
The road to El Gigante


Grasshopper

El Gigante


 Nelson, the owner of Tito (the van) and his wife and daughter, Ellen and Trinidad were welcoming to such a ragtag group of weary travelers. The following day we drove the van an hour down to Iquique and parked on the waterfront. We had made our mind up, we were taking it. The next couple of days were spent buying food and stuff for the inside, luckily we all had sleeping bags and our own pillows so we didn’t have to worry about that, getting the car put in our name, and finally celebrating on our new home with Nelson, Ellen, Trinidad and their son Lukas, the same age as me. The language barrier was insignificant, in the fact that we spent most of the evenings playing futbol with Lukas, he with the skillz, and many, many games of Blackjack and poker with Trini. She tended to win most of our coins. We bought American bicycles in the duty free zone with the help of Nelson and Lukas and tried to fit one in the back of their car, realized the boot wouldn’t close, and then drove through the streets of Iquique with Jabez sitting in the boot, holding onto the bicycle and Lukas burning rubber behind us on the other bike. They were a kind family and even surprised us on Dad’s birthday with a thoughtful spread of Chilean specialties, from meat and cheese to deserts and popular sweets. After the kids spent an hour running themselves out, Nelson took us all in the car to the gas station and just to drive around a little, and of course, play the music at max level. Ah, good times.
This is what you call the middle of nowhere

Finally, after an extra week in Iquique, we were full of water, gas and propane, fresh stuff loaded and bicycles locked up, and ready to hit the road and begin our next journey.


The road to Iquique
We left that day and drove 70 km to our first campsite, past the airport, to Punta Patache and fully settled into our first night as vannies. We spent the next couple days campsite hopping, using an app called iOverlander which directs you to little known wild campsites, on coasts and in towns. We followed the Pan-American Highway, or Route 5 all the way down the coast to a small town called Tocopilla (the double L is pronounced ya) where we had planned to go East, inland towards Chuquicamata and San Pedro de Atacama, where the ALMA telescope was located and allegedly had the worlds best stargazing.
Here she is






Sadly, upon reaching Tocopilla, we found on the website that they only did day tours. What kind of a thing is that? You have a huge telescope in the middle of a cloudless desert, and you don’t allow the public in? Such a waste.

The beautiful Pacific


We scooted on down towards our next big town, Antofagasta.
We’d read, and heard from another vanner, that Antofagasta was a mining town, and a little rough around the edges, but where we ‘camped’ that night was far from it. Right next to the beach, within 2 minutes walk from the fresh fish market, and easy biking distance from lots of stores, it was nice.
Seagulls


Wingardium Leviosa

I just love to mix as many colors as possible

An old abandoned Hotel
We even encountered seals in the port area, awaiting their share of the fish entrails. I endured the joys of showering on the go, namely cold water and no shower curtain in a public bathroom, and at the same time washing my laundry. That’s the thing about growing up on a boat, with limited water resources, you learn how to improvise. Like the time in Dominica in the Caribbean, where we washed laundry in the river, and dried it on the warm rocks and in the trees. 
Sunsets are so wonderful on the coast

From Antofagasta, I had a destination in mind 75 km south. El Mano del Desierto is a sculpture by the Chilean artist Mario Irarrázabal, literally in the middle of nowhere, an hour and a half from the city, yet enthralling enough that people venture out there day and night. We pulled the car up right next it and waited for the wind, which was howling all around us, to die down. It finally did, just after dark and I retrieved my camera and tripod, eager to try out some night photography, a style I hadn’t had much success with as yet. I think they came out quite well, all in all.
Day

Night

I'm especially pleased with this one

We slowly but surely moved south, sometimes 50 km a day, sometimes 80-90. We stopped at a few observatories on our way down to the coast, but each one ONLY did day tours. 
Sunset


Definitely an awesome part of our trip


The funny thing was how warm the desert was, which is to say not as warm as I was expecting. However as soon as we arrived down treacherous lanes where previous trucks had not been as lucky to make the corners, huge grey clouds would roll down over the coast and blanket us, blocking off the nice warm rays. Driving through the blip of a town of Paposo, we nearly couldn’t squeeze by all the trucks on the road, and the road itself made everything in the car rattle, including my teeth. Taltal, a Moroccan sounding town, was anything but. A small town and adorably quiet with naught but a dim restaurant on the town square, where you could hear the chirp of birds and the gentle murmur of people.
Sand Designs



Star Light Star Bright


Just some fun with a flashlight



Jabez

The beach

 From there we acted on a whim and turned right, to the tiny village of Cifuncho with a long white sand beach and a colony of dogs and seagulls. We spent two nights there, relaxing, fishing and in the case of Jabez, swimming in the still freezing waters.
Something like a falcon



On our way down we had missed a number of national parks, so it was lucky that the road we were following ran right through one. The Parque Nacional Pan de Azucar (bread of sugar park) was home to Humboldt penguins, seals and a relative of the Llama, the guanaco.
Sadly, the penguins and seals lived on the medium sized island in the middle off the bay, and though I did want to swim out there, I was wisely reminded by Dad what a seals natural predator is... The great white. So I’m good thanks. We did see two guanaco on our Halloween hike of 8 km. And no there was not candy at the end of it. Only a glass of water. Not that I’m complaining.




The road from there took us into a town by the name of Chañaral , where we spent the night on the park and Jabez practiced his Spanish on two nice girls who invited him to lunch.
About 5 miles outside of Caldera, another town further south, is a tiny seaside village called Bahia Inglesa, named for the English pirates that anchored here a few hundred years ago. We acquired some live scallops, though I did not know they were alive until I tried to eat one and it moved. After that lovely taste sensation, I left the raw shellfish eating up to Mom and Dad, but kept the shells for future crafts.

Finally, after nearly 10 days of travel we had made it to the bottom of one side of our Chile map: Copiapó. I was so excited that I fell asleep and slept through the whole thing. Yes I do tend to do that. We only stopped there to resupply ourselves with bread (a staple of our diet), butter(another staple) and some fruit and veg (necessary to ward off scurvy). From there we took a mining road through the mountains a bit and saw trucks with tires the size of a small car, no exaggerating. We finally stopped at a truckers rest stop for the night, and treated ourselves to nice hot showers, free of charge. Yay for the small things in life right? The next day it was back on the road with desert all around as far as the eye could see.

 We drove to a small town before La Serena, our next large seaside city since Iquique. I’m not quite sure how we got down to the pier with our 30 foot, 7 ton car, but we did, and luckily we had installed safety strings to lock the cupboards after a fiasco leaving Iquique where the cupboard swung upon and we lost almost all our bowls, plus glasses and mugs. Dad tried some fishing off the pier but the wind was bitingly cold so it was quickly abandoned. One thing I can say about Chile, they have a lot of dogs. Mostly strays, but a good deal friendly and I’ve taken to naming them when they stick around. Mostly silly names like Derek and Eric and Beric Dondarrion, but you get the idea. 
La Serena was a chilled beach city, with a 5 km beach that was classified as dangerous because of the riptide. We biked to the mall and supermarket, picked up things at the hardware store and explored the old lighthouse that had partially fallen down due to a storm having swept the sand out from under the foundation, causing it to collapse. Dad was interested to see the Elqui valley so we drove into it, with me asleep once again (how does it keep happening?). We stayed the night in a little place called El Molle, next to a river and tried buying homemade ice cream but came up empty. 
The most interesting mural

Brazilian butterflies

Quiet Camping

Shake the bridge

Just a small river


The town after that one was Vicuña, which is also the name of an animal that provides very soft, very warm blankets, one of those my mom has, that her mom gave her from when her parents were traveling South America in the 40’s. After filling up with water, we were trying not to die of heat in the shade, which wasn’t cool at all, when a truck driver loaded to the brim with crates of custard apple and apricots sold us a huge bowl of them.
They were sweet and, we learned, grown in the valley. The road from Vicuña through Ovalle to Monte Patria was unwise for our van so we backtracked to La Serena and drove from there, ending up next to a large lake, the next night paying for our first campsite, with access to a small fast flowing river where Jabez and I went to swim as their pool was out of order (unluckily for them, cause we enjoyed that river just as much). The next night found us parked atop a hill, with our first view of the snowy mountain peaks in the distance.
The next morning Jabez and I joined Mom in a nice 2 mile jog which left me gasping for oxygen at the high altitude. After a quick coffee and breakfast break, J and I unhooked the bicycles and away we went, down the mountain on the other side. The curves were sharp and the hill was steep, but there’s nothing quite like the exhilaration of it all going, going, going, on and on and you’re not quite sure where the bottom is, but you know its not near. When we finally stopped and the van (and parents) caught up to us, Dad informed us we had gone 10 km. I joined him on the bike while the other two brought the car, but my gears were acting up so we only got about 3 km.

 I really did exert myself, and I filled my exercise quota for the day so you can probably imagine what happened then. Yes, I fell asleep, and slept all the way to Los Vilos, where we are now parked by the sea, and where, earlier there was a small parade with a band. The town seems relatively quiet, like Hermanus in South Africa, just a sleepy seaside village. The road from there to Concón, another coastal town was terrifically bumpy, and I do know that because I was for a fact, driving. Yes indeed, the roads of South America have been graced by my driving prestige. I drove us up a mountain and down, skipping the toll payment of 5800 pesos. The outrage! Concón was everything you would expect from a seaside city where the Santiagoans go to spend their weekend, and the fact that we arrived there on a Sunday definitely put that into perspective. Mom and I took a walk down the boardwalk and I was catcalled twice. One guy even slowed down the car for his buddy who leaned out the window and blew me a kiss. Talk about a wingman. There was Latin style music wafting through the air and people on the beach until the sun was nearly down. Plenty of surfers too. It was a beautiful end to a long day and we needed a good rest before moving on to the great city of Santiago.

Onwards and forwards

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Lima Bean

The entrance to a WWII sniper den on the beach in Rockaway


Tuesday, 25th of September, 2018


Well, here we are in Lima, on the other side of the world, on the Pacific coast, where I have not been for nearly 16 years. Yesterday was.... interesting. First of all, I nearly made us lose the flight, simply because I forgot to set my phone time 2 hours forward to New York, and set my alarm for 6 am, not realizing it was still Colorado time, which just so happens to be 4 am NY time. Good job me. Luckily, Dad was on the ball and had an alarm on the correct time, so I didn't screw that up.
After loading our numerous backpacks, suitcases and carry-ons into Turtle, the adorable litlle skiff that Jarad and Cristel have remodeled, we prepared to head to shore, passing the bridge where the A-train commutes to Manhattan every day. However right as we disengaged from Catherine, the little bronze bell that is rung anytime anyone feels like it, fell and bounced off the side of Turtle and right into the water. Luckily, (we seem to be relying on luck a whole lot these days) it landed with the bell side up and the little hole was small enough so that Dad could swipe it before it accumulated too much water and sank. However, the little ringer piece was unfortunately missing.

The past 4 days that we had spent with our good friends onboard and off of Catherine was wonderful.
The Poseidon Parade, full of colors and characters, down the boardwalk in Rockaway Beach, Queens, was a vivacious experience and not a memory I am likely to forget anytime soon.
Before the pink hair and mermaid makeup


And After
 
Of course I decided to bring my Hula Hoop

Arden and Nash in their fabulous costumes

When your hair matches your outfit

Nice hat my dude

My full regalia

Captain Jarad, pulling our float

Riley the queen of conch blowng

Our weather float in the parade

And this fabulous person had the most awesome high heeled stilettos

And I guess that this is a water demon?

And Triton.
Everyone from our float. Notice the lady in yellow? Her little baby was also a sunbeam and slept through the noise unbelievably.

And so the day of traveling began with the most glorious sunrise I have seen in more than a year. The sky was filled with hues of pink, red and purple, all fighting for dominance as the most vibrant.
RED

PINK and PURPLE

The final goodbye

The A-line into Manhattan 

The sky slowly lightened as we stopped for coffee for the adults and bagels with egg and cream cheese. I am quite glad that I don’t have to commute to work anywhere in New York City, simply because the amount of traffic that I witnessed at 6.30 in the morning was horrendous. We arrived in reasonable time, and proceeded to stand in 2 massive lines, one to receive our boarding passes and the next to go through TSA. The flight to Fort Lauderdale was uneventful, given that I slept through a good deal of it. 
Goodbye New York

After nearly 5 hours in the airport, and another bagel, this time with smoked salmon, we received our seat assignments after worrying about the situation of our leaving Peru and entering Chile, since the lady behind the information desk had been so skeptical that I went ahead and booked an Airbnb for one night in Chile so I had the information and then canceled the next day. We boarded and happily found we had exit seats with plentiful legroom and no one in the seat next to us. Despite there being space to lie down, I did not sleep on that 6 hour flight, nor did they feed us which I thought was wrong. You have more than 100 people on your flight, flying from 5.30 until nearly 12 at night, and all you have to offer is chips and pretzels? Come now.

All went well and we went through custom and immigration swiftly, chatting with the friendly man who stamped us into our first South American country on the next leg of our expedition.
We collected our bags and attempted to rent a car, realized it was more hassle then it was worth and walked outside into the badgering arms of countless taxi drivers. I was about to get us an   Uber to our Airbnb, but my wifi connection timed out and I couldn’t connect again. Luckily, however I was able to see the price to take us there, 39 Soles, about 14 dollars. The guys in the airport all shuffle past calling taxi, taxi, all the while scoping out the tourists. The first guy to offer us a taxi wanted 80 soles, double what an Uber would cost. Dad politely told him we would take an Uber at that price. He then lowered it to 70. Dad said 50, and he said his final price was 60. Dad said 50. Another guy stepped up and said he’d take us for 50. All this was accomplished in Spanish, mind you, something we haven’t really used in a while. We made it to the Airbnb, let our people in Colorado and New York know we were safe and delved into wonderous sleep.

The next morning I woke at 10.30 only because Dad was proffering a glass of orange juice in my bleary face. Just between you and me, I could have slept into the afternoon, but shhh. We lounged and relaxed for most of the day, not realizing what the time was, as the weather here is not of the sunny variety. Its been overcast so long as we’ve been here, but it’s actually not that bad. The temperatures were swell and we spent the whole day wandering up and down the beach. We probably walked 10 km! There is so so much street art here in the district of Barranco, it is amazing.



Mermaid

Just a small piece of artwork

This bridge has so many faces painted under it.

Taken from the bridge of sighs

The faces of the south americans 

Twins

Hot and Cold




We ended the day at a wonderful restaurant and reflected on an intriguing first day in Peru.



Wednesday, 26th of September

A simple day, picking up laundry, trying local cuisine, and kicking around in the main square. We stopped at a local bakery, bought coffee from a man with a portable ice cream stand, walked into a local market with numerous dead chickens and loud eating people. There I purchased a bag of palo wood, which has a very distinctive smell that I love and that sells for 30 dollars for 4 pieces in the US, here I paid 2 soles, the equivalent of 60 US cents for an entire bag.
More beautiful art

A little unicorn girl


The Peruvian people are interesting in their demeanor and characteristics. You can see a select bunch of them eyeing up the tourists, checking them out, seeing who has money, who needs a tour, who doesn’t speak spanish.

All in all, I am enjoying this new culture, this new opportunity, and most of all, these new subjects to observe and photograph.


Saturday, 29th of September

Today is Jabez’s birthday, and he is 6.500 km away playing magic, and then he will be playing paintball later this afternoon.
He’s 16 today, and seems like we both managed to spend our sweet 16’s away from each other. Why we did that I’m not 100% sure, but it’ll be something to discuss when we’re old and arthritic( hopefully not that last one).

An adorable VW Bug
Thursday was more wandering through Barranco, exploring the sights, getting manicures (yes Dad got one too), and walking around the tiny little market filled with the sounds of frying food, loud voices and the smells of incense and palo wood. But yesterday, we hopped on the Metropolitano, the local bus that runs right under our window, and went uptown to Miraflores, the trendy area of Lima.

The Library in the park
Upon our arrival there, we realized why they describe Barranco(where we are) as the hippy area, the reason being that there are more tourists, more stores, more everything in Miraflores. We wandered, trying to find the Andean market, which eventually we did, full of handicrafts from the shawls traditional to Peru to paintings and blankets, scarfs, shoes and so much more. All of the clothing and blankets are made of alpaca and baby alpaca. Since the alpaca are only shorn once a year, it surprised me the amount of goods made out of that hair. Maybe I have simply underestimated exactly how many alpaca there are.
The Andean corn, large pieces, and very different tasting


Yes this is milk in a bag

Two new gross flavors of Oreo: Strawberry cream and Lemon cream

There was also a large department store, where we encountered feather pillows at the exorbitant price of 80 US dollars for one. No I am not kidding and yes you read that right. For one! Luckily we sent word to Mom and they did purchase 4 feather pillows in Denver to stick in their bags.

Finally we came to the JFK Park, in the center of Miraflores, with 2 lanes of traffic on both sides, with the unique fact that this is known as the residence of multiple cats. Yes this is the cat park at the center of the city. There are 35-40 cats that live in this park, sleeping on the grass, getting rubbed by amazed tourists and eliciting food from hapless lunching locals. Truly its a wonder. they have water put out for them everywhere and they do what a cat does best: sleep, eat, and get rubbed whilst looking like they own the whole damn world. That may yet be my favorite place in Peru so far. 
Sleeping boy



Just lazing about

Church after church

Door pose

Now onto food.
Ceviche is very popular here and dad is reaping the full benefit

Smoked fish and rice with Plantain

A food festival 2 blocks from us
Food in Peru has been intriguing in that there are so many new flavors and sensations. By far the best has been the restaurant Ventarron 3 blocks from our Airbnb. The food there has gained the approval of Dad, which is usually not impressed unless it is outstanding or home made. There is a little restaurant right across the street that makes typical Peruvian comfort food that is warming and reminiscent of the good old days when I wasn’t yet born.


Tequeños, a typical starter, consisting of a little cheese empanada, deep fried with a avocado like cream


Driving North

Since bad weather and sickness made us miss Torres del Paine, this was the next best thing for me. The colony of Rock-hopper pen...