Arequipa

I’m writing this from Cusco. I made it back to the Point for Christmas and New Years! I just got off a terrible night bus from Arequipa this morning at around 6:30am but it’s great to be back in this city that feels somewhat like a home. When I was here in October/November you can notice from pictures that the surrounding mountains were all dry and brown, but now just over a month later they’ve transformed due to the rain to a healthy green. It makes the already very cool looking city quite a bit cooler.

I realize that other then the last two posts about Joe leaving and me staying, the last thing we talked about was the Choro trek we did out of La Paz. Although that was probably about three weeks ago now, we haven’t done all that much since then. Aside from Copacabana, Isle del Sol, the Choro trail, and La Paz, our experience trying to travel in Bolivia was a bit of a fail. We had done much less research on Bolivia then on Peru and only had basic ideas of what was available. After the Choro trek we retreated back to La Paz to form a game plan for roughly the next 20 days. We came up with a plan that we were fairly happy with, but weren’t dying to do as much as certain other things we had yet to do in Peru.

I won’t go too far into detail on the whole experience but basically, about a week after setting off for a 20 day cruise through Bolivia, after having already been there for a couple of weeks, we turned around and headed back to Peru. Although we met a few friendly locals, they’re bound to be out there, a majority of our experiences were with unwelcoming people that wanted nothing to do with us. When it got to the point where we couldn’t get any information out of anyone in three different cities, and couldn’t get onto cheap buses going to where we wanted to go, we turned around and retreated to Peru after a week of trying. The experience we had in Bolivia was one we had been warned by a few other people might happen, but I wanted to see for myself. Oh well.

We headed to Arequipa, Peru for two reasons. One was because of our experience in Bolivia, and the second was because it was in the direction of Lima, which is where Joe’s plane would take off. Arequipa is in the southwest portion of the country and most people go there in order to visit the Colca Canyon, which is deeper then the Grand Canyon in the States. “El Miste” is a huge, perfectly cone shaped active volcano that looks over the city. It also draws a lot of people to the city due to the fact that its 5,822meter high summit is known as the easiest climb in the world at that height. It blows its cap pretty regularly and last did so in 1985.

Arequipa was a nice city to hang out in. It seemed to have more money than any other places we had been. Granted we didn’t explore everywhere, but where we did had nice streets, impressive buildings, and well kept parks. We stayed at a party hostel, which I know we bashed a little bit in a previous post but if they’re used properly, they can be a good thing. Our main problem with the idea of them is how easy it is to forget where you are and just party with people who speak perfect English. This is something that is up to the individual to manage. No one was holding us down there and no one was saying we weren’t allowed to leave and explore things on our on. They can be a good place to meet people, live cheaply, and have a really good time. I think we were just getting a little bitter about the concept because we were allowing ourselves to be sucked in by the lifestyle and we were spending our money on booze instead of adventures. It’s just one of those many things in this world that should be used in moderation, at least for me, with my circumstances, and goals.

Anyway, for the last three days or so of Joe’s trip we hung out there, exploring the city for architecture and food by day and having some crazy times at night. We would have gone to the Colca Canyon together but decided it would be too rushed to try to fit a trek in before Joe had to head to Lima. So we had a few good days of fun and then Joe got in a cab and left, which was weird. It was officially just me, and the world. My first adventure was a three day walk through the beautiful Colca Canyon...

 Above you will see a picture of me dressed as a prostitute, dancing to  "YMCA" on top of a bar in Arequipa...

Traveling Solo

As stated by Joe in the last blog post, our trip has taken a fairly quick turn of events as Joe decided to head home due to money issues that weren’t a problem yet but were going to become one well before our scheduled return home in the second week of March. He dropped off while he was still ahead, with a great two-month trip under his belt and time to be with the family for the holidays, and hopefully sign up for some second semester classes near home.

This, as I’m sure one could imagine, hugely changes things for me and the rest of my trip. I’m not upset about the situation, or worried. It’s just not something I had been in the mindset for in a long time. When I originally made plans to go to South America they were to go alone. However, as soon as I started getting serious about it, when I didn’t sign up for Fall classes and started buying equipment and these types of things, Joe was hit with a realization of what I was really about to go do. In a single serious conversation one night he jumped on board, and I was glad to have him! Before that night a huge amount of both my excitement, and mild nervousness, was due to the fact that I was going alone. There are a lot of things to consider with the idea. Many of them great advantages, and others, things that would make the trip more difficult.

After Joe decided he wanted to go, I stopped thinking about it and started thinking about the trip we were now planning together. Joe, being my twin brother was probably the only person I would have been completely comfortable with joining me. When we need to we can work as one unit. We’re very different from each other but for the most part we’re in sync. My advice to anyone considering a trip like this is either to choose your partners very wisely, or go alone. Some of the most stressful situations I’ve ever had to deal with have come about while traveling, and stress can cause friends to be real ass-holes towards each other. If you and your partner can figure out when to leave something in the past and move on then things should be fine, but if you can’t then things will build up and explode. Any type of relationship whether it’s between friends, family, or couples, will be tested differently while traveling then it would at home.

The day Joe decided he was going to go home after two months of fairly successful and happy partnered traveling, I didn’t know what to think at first. Then all these thoughts started coming up into my brain that I had had before. All these original motives I had originally had for solo travel started to creep up, only this time unaccompanied by the nervousness. Now I want to be fair to Joe and the awesome trip we had and give that its due recognition. If I hadn’t had my brother with me for these last two months then traveling and getting the hang of things would have been a lot sloppier. We were there for each other to do things like look out for signs, or understand someone’s Spanish as a team, or read the map, keep each other company, and just plain watch each other’s back.

But when I realized that I was going to be alone for the second half I realized how perfect it was for what I personally wanted out of the trip. I’d like to think I know what I’m doing now. My Spanish is better, I have a better gauge of the people, I make small talk with taxi drivers, and there’s no way I’m missing a bus. I think this is as good a time as any to go solo. Yes, I’ll have to use my whole brain now instead of 75 percent of it. Yes, I’ll have to work harder on my Spanish. Yes, if I want some company then I’m going to have to go make some friends. And yes, I’ll have to make every decision regarding where, when, and how I do things for myself. All of these things are good, and they’re all things that will help me grow and help me get everything I’m looking for out of this experience. I didn’t hesitate about taking a year off of school because I knew there was the potential out there to find two degrees worth of experiences, and stimulation, and knowledge in five months of traveling. This will without a doubt be the best way to tap into that potential. I’m sure I’ll have more to write about solo traveling in the next few months, but for now I’ll leave it there and wait for the experiences to flow. After all, it has still been only a week. 

Mike's Blog

Seeing as I’m writing this from my parent’s house in Michigan, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be taking part in the blog anymore. Mike is now a solo traveler. I was running short on money and unable to stick to my budget, so I decided to come home. The trip will be quite different now and I’m interested to read about what life is like as a solo traveler.

After spending two months in Peru and Bolivia, coming home was a little bizarre. It’s strange to be able to take a hot shower, and know that it’s always going to be hot, or to drink from the tap. The trip taught me a lot and gave me a lot to think about. Good luck to Mike!  

La Paz and The Choro Trek

Arriving in La Paz, from Copacabana was actually quite surprising. Having not done much research on the city it was amazing to see how massive it was in comparison to Cusco. They even have skyscrapers! At 3,650m (11,975ft) La Paz is the highest capitol city in the world, and the highest I’d ever been without being in an airplane. Upon arrival, we took a cab to a popular hostel that I will not give the name of, because although they are great at what they do, I’m about to bash it. Not just this hostel, but popular tourist party hostels in general.

After our fair share of these types of places in Cusco, and few days at this place in La Paz, which seemed to be even a step up, we decided that this was not the way we wanted to travel. To hop around from party hostel to party hostel is a good way to spend twice as much money as you have and miss out on at least half of what any place has to offer culturally. It’s like a big vacation where people spend day and night in a well-kept English-speaking oasis where they eat like kings, drink at all hours of the day, and leave the hostel only for tourist excursions organized by the in house travel agencies.

We packed up after two night and headed off in search of something a little more modest that wouldn’t break the bank. What we found was a perfect place to make base; our own room with 2 beds, Wi-Fi, a shared outdoor seating area and a kitchen at our disposal. The hostel was run by a family that lived on the top floor and there weren’t many people staying there. Besides us, there was a group of hippies that practiced juggling and accordion playing all day. We spent a few days here relaxing and researching before heading out on our first multi-day trek of the trip, The Choro Trek.

 The Choro Trek is a 3 day trek that is best to do out of La Paz. We hitched a taxi to the trail head (located even higher in altitude than La Paz.) The trek is known to be one of the best in Bolivia and offers a wide variety of altitude and scenery.

 After the hour ride out from La Paz and some horrible directions from a guy at the ranger station, we got off to a shaky start. Less then half an hour into the trek we took a wrong turn. An error that took us about an hour hike down the side of a mountain before realizing, and a long tiring hike back up.  When we got back to the point we had turned wrong we discovered that we had to go even further up the mountain and down the other side. Our little misshape had taken us at least two hours out of our way and we were crunched for time if we wanted to make it to one of the campsites on time.

On the bright side, going down the wrong side of the mountain gave us a beautiful view that we otherwise wouldn’t have seen. Being so high up, there was very little vegetation. The mountains seemed to be made of slate ranging in color from red to blue, brown, and green. And there were lamas everywhere! As we made our way down the other side (the correct side) we were literally in the clouds. You couldn’t see very far in front of you and we were walking a long the edge of a cliff. It was very cold up there and a bit eerie. As we made our way down we discovered that we were in a lush, green river valley with mountain walls towering over us on either side. The valley descended gradually off into the distance. This is where we would be spending the majority of the trek.

For the rest of that first day the trail was more like a sidewalk. There were stones laid out on the ground for miles and a little stonewall along the trail. The Choro trail was a passageway created by the Incans sometime before the Spanish took over, so these stones were very old and had been there for a long time. It was interesting to think about how many people had walked the trail we were walking, and who.

At around 5:30 on the first evening we arrived in a little town in the valley. This place was literally in the middle of nowhere and it was the only town we would come across for the entire trek. We had originally planned to walk through and continue on about 2 hours to the designated camp spot but because of our mishap at the beginning, daylight wouldn’t allow it. We were able to camp in the schoolyard right along the river, which made for an interesting experience.

We were approached by several curious kids while setting up camp and making dinner. They would come very close and just stand there without saying a word, watching what we were doing. Some of them wanted food. Although they didn’t have a food shortage there, a lot of kids have become accustomed to begging. The trekkers give them food they don’t have in their village. The begging seemed to be out of curiosity rather than hunger.

The next morning we took down camp and headed off again as soon as the sun woke us up. The second day was undoubtedly the most difficult. We had trekked 7 hours the day before, our first time going any real distance with our packs, and we were sore all over. It got a little better once we got going, but I was finding it hard to breath the entire day. It didn’t help that the trail started heading up out of the valley and zigzagged up and down through the surrounding mountains. Although the trek takes you down several hundreds of meters in elevation, we had to do a lot of climbing in order to pass through the mountains. Day two was very hot as well. I was sweating more than I had in a long time.

At one point when we were down by the river, Mike and I decided to rest for a while and try to go for a swim. The river was descending   through the valley so the water was moving really fast, but there were a lot of big rocks. In this particular spot the rocks had formed a kind of pool, were the flow was gentle enough so that we wouldn’t get taken away. The water was very cold but so refreshing. We go all the way in and stayed in, splashing around for about 5 minutes. It was a well-needed cool off. We filled our bottles there and treated them with our purification pills. It was some of the freshest water I’ve ever tasted. From there we had about another 3-hour walk up a mountain to where we would spend the night, “Buena Vista.”

Buena Vista means, “beautiful view.” It was just one family’s home, located high up on a mountain overlooking the valley. We were several kilometers from anything in either direction. When we arrived there was a man and his two young daughters. Mike and I were exhausted when we arrived and the two girls gravitated to us when we sat down to rest…and when we set up camp, and when we cooked dinner, and as we walked back and forth across the yard between the tent and the cook stove. They were very happy to have some new entertainment.

The pair weren’t vey talkative at first. They would just stand very close to us and watch what we were doing. There were a bunch of chickens running around in the grass that were trying to get at the food we were making. The girls would chase them away, pulling out their feathers and giggling. They picked them up and threw them a few times. We learned that they were both 6 years old. They were twins! Mike and I are twins as well so they thought that was pretty cool.

I pulled out my big fancy camera after dinner and was showing them how it worked, which was really fun. They were smudging up the lens, were barley able to hold it up to their faces, and when I’d wrap the strap around their necks it would just fall off their shoulders and around their waists. I didn’t care though. They were having such a fun time. I was showing them how to make movies and they were doing little recordings of each other. They were learning how to work it very fast. Every time I had the camera one of them was either trying to show me some flowers, making a face, or flipping out in the yard. We had a good time for hours, until the sun went down and Mike and I headed into out tent to rest up for the night.

It interesting to think of how different their life must be. These little girls spend all of their time in their own backyard, nowhere near other people, a school, or even a road. They spend their days wrestling, chasing chickens, and riding flattened plastic bottles down a hill. They had an older sister. She looked about twelve and she came in from the trail as the sun was going down with a sack over her shoulder. She didn’t talk to us as much, but I assumed that she must have been gone for a few days, and that whatever was in the sack was something the family needed to make there living. These girls would grow up to be just like their parents; chopping chicken for food and wood for fire.  It’s strange to think about all the different worlds a child can be born into.

The next morning the rain was pouring. It felt great for a few hours. It was amazing how much the scenery had changed throughout the trek. On day one we were in rocky, barren mountains in the clouds and by day three we were in a lush wet jungle with cascading waterfalls and an abundance of vegetation. By day three we had it down. The same bags that where killing us the past two days didn’t fell all that bad. The queasy breathless feeling I’d had the day before was gone. We still felt sore, but stronger. We walked hard and fast that day, sometimes deep in conversation and other times deep in thought. There wasn’t much room to think about the effort we were putting in so the day went by pretty fast.

We took one break that day in the mid afternoon to make lunch. There was a group of little wood buildings at one point along the trail, someone’s property. The only people around were a bunch of little kids. The oldest girl looked like she might have been 11 and she was wearing a backwards baseball hat. We thought that the parents must have been gone getting something and this girl was in charge. They reminded me of the lost boys from peter pan. There were a bunch of little sheds built up from slop lumber and these kids were running around in the rain playing some made up game. They sold us some canned meat and we mixed it in with our rice and onion.

After lunch we finished up the trek in what seemed like no time. We arrived in a little town called Chairo by mid afternoon and took a taxi bus about an hour up the mountain to Coroico, a well-populated city with a great view of the valley we had just hiked through.  We spent one night in town before heading back to La Paz to prepare for our next adventure.  For being out first real trek, I would say it was a great success and I’d recommend it for anyone traveling through Bolivia.

Thanksgiving in Copacabana

Joe, Dylan, and I had stayed up pretty late the night before just hanging out in our room on the Isla del Sol getting to know each other better, but regardless of that, we still found ourselves up at around 6am to pack up our things and climb down to the dock to catch the first boat back to Copacabana. Our little trip had worked out almost flawlessly, and the island, like many other places we had been, had left quite an impression on us. When we were hiking down I did my best to take it all in. I tried to consider the idea that one-day I might be back again, but upon doing this I came to the conclusion that this was almost certainly the last time in my life that I would ever be on this Island.

I came to this conclusion not because I wouldn’t love to visit again, but because if I’ve gained anything since I started to travel it’s a better understanding of how much really is out there. The number of people and places that are just beyond the horizon waiting to show you their little bit of homemade magic are, in terms of a lifetime, countless. So even If I live to be an old man, If I want to be an old man who can even begin to say that he has an understanding of human beings, the entire world in general, and what it’s comprised of, then I’m already in a crunch for time.

I think this was a good thing to finally realize as someone who is seeing vastly different places every few days. I’ve started to appreciate the moments themselves a little bit more. I’m doing my best to remember how places make me feel. I’m writing more down, because while I’m traveling like this, everyday truly is a once in a lifetime experience. Everywhere I go is someone’s home, and it’s very interesting to consider the people, and how these places shaped them and made them who they are, just as my home made me who I am. I could spend the rest of my life just observing how people live.

Our trip to Copa was a short-lived example of these attempts. It was Thanksgiving morning in the states and we were taking a little ferry across Lake Titicaca for the second time. We docked in Copa Cabana around 8:30am and found some breakfast on the main drag with Dylan, two Danes, and a guy from Ecuador that we had met the night before on our way to dinner. After breakfast, Joe and I went out in search of a hostel and Dylan went looking for a bus ticket that would get him to Peru later that evening. After we found a decent place to drop our stuff and Dylan was all situated, we decided we would just walk around town and see what it was about. It was a beautiful sunny day and the town was busy with street vendors, motorbikes, and tourists. Walking around, we quickly realized that the place wasn’t very big. There was a big white church, and about 10 blocks of colorful buildings filling in the land leading up to the lakeshore. Behind the town, filling up about 4x as much area, was farmland. On either side of town were giant hills leading up to look out points over the lake, and beyond all that was a mountain range. We found cheap lunch in the local market where we were glad to be the only gringos around. We each enjoyed a plate of chicken, rice, potato, and a fried banana for a very reasonable price.

After lunch we got back to wandering, and ended up following the sound of cheering into a local soccer stadium. It was a cool little concrete structure with an indoor, adult league game going on. We stuck around for about a game in a half cheering for whomever we felt like. It was a pretty cool find for a few kids who weren’t really looking for anything. When we were all ready to go we decided we would head down to the like and see if we could rent a boat to get out on the water.

With almost no effort, we bought ourselves an hour on Lake Titicaca in a rotting old rowboat named Popeye! The work it took to get out away from town was a lot more then what it took to row back in, but the three of us took turns rowing and we still managed to have a good time despite almost most getting ran over more then once by ferries on their way in and out of port.

Once we docked the boat and headed back to the hostel to freshen up, we decided that with the hour or so we had before Dylan had to catch his bus we would climb up the hill on the edge of town to the famed lookout point. We were in a bit of a hurry to get up and down so Joe didn’t bring the camera for this part, but it was quite a view. We were in the perfect position to look down at everything in the town, our playground for the day.

After hiking down and saying goodbye to our new friend Dylan until who knows when, Joe and I set out I search of a suitable Thanksgiving dinner before we would head back to the hostel to get in contact with our family at home. We ended up finding some pretty good pasta. Mine had some type of Alfredo sauce and an entire Lake Titicaca trout in it (bones and all.) It was nothing like we would have eaten at home, but still pretty tasty.

When we got back to the hostel and tried to log onto Skype, the wifi refused to work, naturally. So after a few minutes of fooling around we decided to head down the road in search of a café or something so as not to keep our whole family waiting. We ended up Skyping in an empty bar for the fee of a couple beers. It was great to see everyone at home in such a familiar Thanksgiving setting. We got to say hello to our parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and our baby niece Allison, who has been doing some serious growing up since we left. It was the perfect way to end a great day, and what has so far been the most unique Thanksgiving of my life.