journey to the salt flats: day 2

As our 4x4 made it's way on the craggy road, the sun started to rise slowly from the horizon. The colors it painted on the mountains catching it's first light made those moments magical. Every turns, ascents and descents we made revealed more magnificent views, rivaling the previous ones. It was beauty no one or nothing could perfectly capture. It was beauty that can only be savored by those who venture in that far away and secluded place. If only the low temperature could also freeze time.

Day 2 - Eduardo Avaroa National Reserve

We had a very long drive ahead so we started the day really early. Our vehicles started moving at exactly 6 in the morning. It was freezing and ice formed on puddles and streams. March is still summer in Bolivia. I was glad I wasn't there during the winter.

Our first stop was Ruinas de San Antonio, an abandoned mining village with Volcan Uturuncu looming in its background. According to our driver, the place was established in the 16th century which meant it predates the Inca civilization. When I got home and looked closely at the pictures I took, I saw some of the buildings had what seemed to be white paint. There were websites saying that there was an effort to repopulate the village in the 70s and that would probably be the reason for it. For a ruin (supposed to be) as old as this, it is expected that there will be studies and excavations done to understand its history but there didn't seem to be any sign of archeological activities in the area.

It was still very cold so we didn't spend much time going around the ruins and just went inside the vehicle. My fingers were getting numb and I had to run back to feel warmer but I was still freezing. Spotting the cute vizcacha who are the current residents of the village became a short distraction to the cold.

Ruinas de San Antonio and Volcan Uturuncu.

We continued driving with beauty everywhere I looked; rugged terrain, different rock formations with varying colors, snow-capped peaks. I saw for the first time a vicuña which produce highly priced wool. A small group was hanging out on a slope feeding on grasses that are weirdly forming close-to-perfect circles and arcs. Hundreds of llamas still dot the land and we even saw a sign telling us to heed caution for crossing llamas.

This is one of the signs you haven't seen yet.

The road opened up to a view of a blue lake, one of the many we were about to see for the day and the next. Of course I didn't get it's name nor the snow-capped mountain in the distant. We were at 4855masl, another record high for me (on both altitude and euphoria). But despite my emotional state, the cold was still creeping to my bones. Or maybe it was just me because they started taking off their jackets.

We then drove until we reached the entrance of the reserve. We paid 150Bs and while it seemed a bit high at first, I was willing to pay more after seeing all the amazing scenery. As we made our way into the reserve, we were surprised to see a small community inside it. And of course if there are people, it's impossible not to see even a small pile of trash.

More than an hour has passed before we reached our next stop, dacite! Err... What they wanted to show us in that place, they didn't explain but the ride wasn't exactly smooth, it was bumpy, so it was time for some rest. And then it was time to move and we headed to our next colored lake, Laguna Hedionda, where I spotted my first flamingos. They were feeding on the lake at a distance and didn't seem to care about what was happening around. There weren't much flamingos but on the next lake (I didn't get the name) not that far away, there were hundreds of them.

Everyone was excited for our next destination, Aguas Termales. Just imagine yourself lounging in warm (hot?) water, with a lake and mountains of different colors in the backdrop, in a remote and serene place. Wouldn't it be wonderful? Well, I'd rather stay in the vehicle because I don't like pools. Period. And besides, once you get out of the water, it will be really cold so I somehow saved myself from that agony.

Aguas Termales.

A few groups doing the tour from Chile were just about to leave when we reached the hot spring. Our schedule kept its promise of avoiding the crowd (which is hardly a crowd). We headed to Desierto Dali and on our way, we came across two bikers. They must be really crazy to travel with just their bikes but nonetheless, we gave them a bath of dust. There were also a few big trucks along the road we were taking. They were carrying sulfuric acid and our driver explained without hesitation that those were contraband. Oh...

Our next stop was Sol de Mañana, which they simply described as a geyser. I was very excited because that would have been the first time I would see boiling hot water getting sprayed out from a vent. But in the end, I didn't. It was more like a solfatara with quite a number of colored mud pools. The place reeked of sulfur and we could smell it even before we got near. No safety protocols were implemented and people were all around. Some were walking on ridges between the pools and I was glad they weren't geysers.

Sol de Mañana

The highlight of our day was the Laguna Colorada. It was nothing I had ever seen before. Well, almost everything was but the lake, with its red hue, will make you think if Moses dipped his cane in this water. But no, the color was due to the algae thriving in the water and I'm guessing the sediments which are also reddish contributed to its color. The guys and I walked around the lake, marveling at its beauty and oddness. There were many flamingos in the lake and with the desire to take some close-up photos of them, we stealthily moved towards a small group feeding near the shore. I later learned that visitors are not supposed to try to get close to them nor drive them away to flight because they're breeding gets affected. Oops, sorry about that.

The tranquil Laguna Colorada.

We spent the night  in a place perched in the middle of nowhere. Though that time, we shared the building with more groups and we had electricity for a few hours. Before it got dark, I climbed a small hill just because. I watched as the sky changed its color. Everywhere I looked, I saw rugged mountains. There were no other man-made structures except for our building. We were surrounded by nature in its wildest and most singular form. It was only then that I realized how far away I was from home; how much distance I have traveled just to get to that lonely place. And that place reminded me of nothing, or anything that was simply familiar to me. But now that I look back to that moment, what I remember the most was the sense of happiness, peace and fulfillment I rarely had. I was living the life I wanted.

Our accommodation in the middle of nowhere.

journey to the salt flats: day 1

Less crowd, more sites to see. Sold. Steeper price? It was money spent that's worth every centavo.

I took the overnight bus from La Paz to Tupiza to start the Salt Flats tour there. I initially planned to take the 5-day tour which includes hiking up a volcano but all other people booked the 4-day tour so I had no other option. I paid 210USD which covered everything except for entrance fees and use of toilet. The lady then explained to me that the accommodation would be very basic and shower would only be available on the third night. She gave me a brochure and mentioned the places we would be visiting but I was only half-listening. Take me anywhere, as long as it's beautiful.

Fold.

Day 1 - Who-the-heck-is-Butch, llamas and more llamas, coca, football 

 I met the guys who would be on the tour with me during breakfast. The first question to me was if I was the girl from the Philippines. Yes, and that meant he had seen the registration form where I half-willingly wrote my profession. The tour organizer asked for it and I didn't know what for. I should have put unemployed but anyway, I just didn't want them to know because they would probably ask questions during the trip and I might not have the answer. True enough, the other guy asked me to explain something after we saw our first otherworldly scenery. He assured me that that would be his first and last but of course, it wasn't. He had more questions in those four days but I welcomed them. And when I didn't have an answer, I told him to give me time to think and I would get back to him. I actually felt good when I was thinking and trying to recall what I learned years ago. (I know it wasn't that long ago but I tend to forget stuff especially if I don't have practical use of them.) The gratification was more about me knowing that I still know those things than him learning some geology.

We left with one more group of four travelers in another vehicle. There was only one cook and she rode with us on the first day. Six persons inside the vehicle including the driver was comfortable enough. Our driver/guide and cook didn't speak English. The guys speak a little Spanish. So I missed many of the names and explanations about the places we visited.

Spires or fins? Explain how they were formed.

We headed a little to the north of Tupiza to Quebrada de Palala and drove on a dry wash (Can I say it's a bed of an ephemeral stream?) bound with remarkable rock formations called fins. Our first stop was in El Sillar along the road on a narrow ridge. There we caught up with about four other tour groups from Tupiza. Still not much of a crowd. An impressive view of spires lie in the valleys. I had seen something like that on the road from La Paz but didn't got the time to really admire them. (I didn't know how those formations were called and when I learned about it, I think I haven't come across them before. Or have I? Give me a geomorphology book.)

While driving on the wash, our driver mentioned Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I didn't know if we'd been to the place where they were supposed to have been killed. I had no idea who they were when I first heard their names. But according to what I read, they were American bank robbers who met their doom after they robbed the payroll of the mining company they worked for in Bolivia.

It took us about two hours to reach our next destination, Awanapampa. I was waiting for our cook to take out our lunch. It was still early but I was getting hungry. When she didn't, I just headed out to the field where there were hundreds of llamas. We had already seen a lot along the road but I wanted to take a photo with a cute one. I guess llamas don't really like people. Every time I tried to get near them, they moved away from me. I tried to move like a sneaky burglar but even the ones facing away and busy nibbling grass easily noticed me and slowly walked away. Then I just ran after them and of course it didn't work. At least I think I annoyed them for being so snobbish. (Llama to me: Go away! Stupid.)

Awanapampa. Llamas in southwest Bolivia outnumber people.

We finally had our lunch in a small abandoned village. I needed to pee so I asked our driver if there was a toilet there or along the road. There was none. It was so naive of me to expect. While eating, cold wind started to blow and it got really chilly I needed my thick jacket. The sun was high up and I wondered how cold it would be at nighttime.

We continued driving for a few hours passing through some mining villages. One guy joked that I should help him find a river and pan for gold. If only that was possible, I would and use the money so I could travel more. Haha.

The whole time we were in the vehicle, our cook was chewing dried coca leaves. The two guys had some to prevent altitude sickness. They were prone to it, I wasn't. But I believe that going to Bolivia without trying coca meant that my trip wouldn't be complete. I also didn't find anything wrong with taking it in it's natural form. Coca is just a leaf; coca is not cocaine. The guys didn't like its taste. It was pretty okay to me. What I didn't like was the numbing effect to the mouth and tongue. It felt like I was in a clinic waiting for the dentist to clumsily and morbidly pull my teeth. Hate, hate, hate it.

The town of Polulos. There are electric wires but there's no electricity yet.

After a few hours, we stopped in a village. The itinerary said we will stop at Cerillos but the sign said it was Polulos. Not that it mattered. The villages we've seen almost looked the same anyway with houses made of mud bricks. And it seemed as if nobody lived in those villages sprawled in the middle of nowhere.

At around 5pm, we reached San Pablo de Lipez where we spent the night. Our accommodation had two bedrooms. The toilet was clean enough and had running cold-only water. We had some time to kill before dinner and the boys played football with some local kids. They also invited me to play but after a few minutes of running (err, walking and just standing there actually), I was already breathless because of the altitude so I just left. Later that night, I learned that the kids killed them. I'm guessing the altitude contributed a lot.

While waiting for our food to be served, I had a chat with a Malaysian guy from the other group. He has been traveling for three years and a half and he's not stopping for at least a year and a half more. I so envy him and wish that I can do what he's doing.

The tranquil village of San Pedro de Lipez. (Or is it San Antonio?)

After dinner, some kids came and played music to us with their local wind pipe (zampoña) made of bamboo. I appreciated it and they looked adorable. But their faces showed that they were not enjoying what they were doing. And I really don't like it when someone is forced to do something they don't want to, especially kids.

Anyway, there was no electricity in the village so it was very dark. But the darkness gave way to the beautiful sky lit up by millions of stars. I could see the Milky Way. It would have been great to just lie down on the ground, look at the light from stars emitted years ago; and ponder about life and all the time that has passed by. But it was very cold so I just went inside our room and found comfort under the blankets.

accommodations: bolivia

Hotel La Valle - La Paz

Vehicles can't enter the street where this hotel is located so the taxi driver had to drop me someplace else. I wished he walked me up to the door of the hotel because I had a really hard time to find it. I kept walking up and down Evaristo Valle and the other streets nearby but still couldn't see any sign of the hotel. With my limited Spanish, I asked help from a number of locals but most of them didn't know where it was or pointed me to the wrong direction. I swear it took me at least 30 minutes to finally find it. And when I got there, the old man at the front desk told me there was no vacant room. I insisted that I have a reservation and when he still didn't believe me, I showed him the e-mail from their address. Apparently, it wasn't him that I was exchanging e-mails with because he didn't speak English and not one of the staff spoke any English.

My room was very small, probably the smallest I had in my entire trip. The small window opens to the hallway so it somehow felt like I was a prisoner. The shower took a long time to get hot but at least I had hot water. For 85Bs, I had a cable tv and a very light breakfast. My room was on the fourth floor and of course, there was no elevator. I was breathless every time I went up my room. All guests were, anyway. I just hated the acoustics of the building. In the afternoon, I could hear the clacking of typewriter keys from the ground floor. Yes, they're still using a typewriter.

I had a love-hate relationship with the old men at the front desk. There were times when it felt like they didn't want me there. But there were also times when they sounded happy while talking to me. But even with that kind of relationship, I kept coming back to that hotel and stayed for 10 nights. It was a too long time that the senora serving breakfast had stopped asking me what I wanted to drink and just brought me jugo every morning.

And oh, when a friend came to my hotel, he didn't have any problems finding it. What's wrong with me?


La Torre Hotel - Tupiza

I only chose La Torre because I was taking the Salt Flats tour with them. It was near the bus station so I just walked when I got there. I asked for a single room and I was given one with two double beds. Now that's a lot of space I could trash. The place was bright and the atmosphere was good (not that noisy, too) but my windows only open to the corridor. Breakfast was good. Or maybe I had a good time eating because I finally met the three people I would be in the tour with and I felt comfortable with them.


Pachamama Hostel - Sucre

Now, this one I didn't choose. I was in Uyuni the day before I went to Sucre and didn't like the idea of spending a night there. It was a good thing that one of the guys in my tour was also going to Sucre. I was too lazy to book a room and he was staying in the hostel he stayed before so I just decided to tag along with him. We were supposed to arrive at the bus station at 4am and we agreed to wait for the morning before we head to the hostel. But we reached Sucre an hour earlier, and someplace else he wasn't familiar with. So we just took a cab and spent three hours in the plaza (which is another story).

Anyway, the hostel is just a few blocks from the plaza so we went there on foot and a sleepy but friendly boy named Martin greeted us. I think he just woke up when I rang their bell. I got my own room at the first floor for 70Bs. They have a big and lovely courtyard. There was no breakfast but they have a kitchen and I experienced for the first time cooking my own food in a hostel.


Hostal Compania de Jesus - Potosi

I read from the LP guidebook that this hostal was a former Carmelite monastery. I was intrigued so I headed there from the bus station and thankfully, they had a room for me. The building has tiny but pretty courtyards and it was sort of a maze inside that I had some difficulty finding the dining area. My room was big enough and clean although the toilet and its door looked really old. It was particularly cold in Potosi but the sheets they provided were warm enough. There was a view of a bell tower and Cerro Rico from my toilet window. (While waiting for the shower to get hot, you can pass time by enjoying the view. Wait, was there a hot shower? I can't exactly remember.)

When night came, I was awaiting for creepy noises or voices and other out-of-this-world phenomenon to happen. Thankfully, nothing abnormal happened.


Hotel La Cupula - Copacabana

This is the most beautiful accommodation I have ever had in my six weeks of traveling in Peru and Bolivia. Beauty has a price though and I had to walk for more than two hours to get to this hotel. It's not the norm. It's just than when I went to Copacabana, there was a strike and all the roads to the town were blocked. And it didn't help that the map in my phone showed a wrong location of La Cupula. I only realized that when I had already descended a very steep road. So I had to crawl walk back up and walk a little more up to get there.

A friendly staff welcomed me and carried my backpack to my room. This was the first and only time that someone helped me with my stuff and I really appreciated it. I took the cheapest room they got. My room was a little small but it was cute and really lovely. It was also the only room I had that had a heater. It got very cold at night and the heater was a big help.

They also have two grass gardens and there were some hammock for lounging in lazy afternoons. One time, there was a flock of sheep outside my room and I had no idea why they were there but it was a good surprise. I didn't have a view of Lake Titicaca from my room. But I only needed to go out and I could see the lake and the town. It was really, really, really beautiful.

View of Copacabana from Hotel La Cupula.

i got what it takes to ride down the world's most dangerous road

That's what my t-shirt says, so I guess I really do.

Our service vehicle. Seriously, the road is much scary in pictures than it actually is.

The web says that the North Yungas Road was dubbed by the Inter-American Development Bank as the World's Most Dangerous Road in 1995. I couldn't find a link to the exact article but they say that it's because of the number of people who were killed in this road every year. It is also called Camino de la Muerte or Death Road.

When I was researching about La Paz, the Death Road is one of the top things to do in the city. I told my self that there would be no way I would miss it when I get to the city. The fact that my insurance wouldn't pay me if anything bad happened since I was willingly exposing myself to danger didn't deter my enthusiasm. So I searched for a reputable operator and found good reviews about Vertigo. They also have a tally of their riders' nationalities in their website so it became my goal to put Philippines in it. Haha.

Since I got sick the day after I got to La Paz, I was not able to visit their office to book a ride earlier. I was only able to do so a day before and alas, no one has booked yet. They only leave if there were at least three riders. Because I really wanted to ride with Vertigo, I told myself that if I couldn't leave the next day I would just go to Tupiza and take another chance when I get back to La Paz.

Later that afternoon, I received a call from them and told me that two other people confirmed and I could ride on the day I want to. Yes! I rushed to their office to fill-out forms and for fitting of their safety gears which include full face helmet, elbow and knee pads, full finger gloves, jackets and trousers. The fee was 480Bs but since I 'liked' their Facebook page, I got a 10B-discount.

Extreme llama at La Cumbre.

We were supposed to leave at 8am but there was a marathon so we had to leave an hour earlier. That morning I met the English couple, Cat and Ed, whom I will ride with. They didn't have prior experience in downhill mountain biking. I also didn't. (I don't count that one time when I biked from Mahukdam to our camp in Tubod.) So we told ourselves that we would do it really slowly. Though it was impossible to go slow when the road is sloping down.

By the time we got to La Cumbre, the start of the ride, there were already many other groups. We were at 4700masl and during that time, it was the highest elevation I have been. The end of the ride is at 1200masl, a total of 3500m of descent for a span of 63km. It was really cold even though the sun was intense, which was almost always the case when I was in the Andes.

Our guide Jose and our driver Jose (yes, it's crazy) gave us our bikes and safety gears. We had a short practice on our bikes before we descended and I was trying to recall the last time I took my bike out for a ride. I couldn't. Haha. But still, I was confident and that was more important. Jose also gave us a few safety reminders and tips to avoid any accidents.

Admiring the beautiful scenery.

While keeping our eyes on the road.

The first part of the ride was along a few tens of kilometers of concrete road. The view was really amazing with snow-capped peaks, deep valleys and very rugged terrain. I was at the back of the group and going a little slower, trying to take in the scenery. But I had to focus more on the road because there was still traffic and the curves are really sharp that if I apply brake a little late, something not good might happen. There was also one point when there was a slow-moving truck ahead of us. Everyone has already overtook it but I was hesitant because by the time I got close to it, the road was already winding and there were oncoming vehicles. The driver of our service vehicle, which stayed close to us (or me) at the back, had to sound his horn to tell me that it was already safe to pass the truck.

We had a few breaks along the road to rest and take some photos. Jose was also taking photos and videos while on his bike and I found it unsafe but crazy and amazing how he manages to focus on the road and the camera. We then stopped at Unduavi to pay a fee of 25Bs. The money is used for road maintenance since it isn't (supposed to be) used by the public anymore and for other safety services. We also had snacks (breakfast for me) and pee break. I found it weird and annoying that the cubicles don't have doors. Even if there were separate toilets for men and women, I still wanted my privacy.

Enjoying the ride. I was smiling in all the pictures our guide took.

From Unduavi, we rode our van to skip the 8km-uphill part of the road. When we got to the start of the dirt road, Jose reiterate the safety protocols and explained that in the Death Road, vehicles going down should be on the left side. And that's the side where the steep cliffs are. Then I started doubting if I could reach Coroico unscathed. Good thing is that we didn't come across any vehicle going up.

It's not called Death Road for nothing.

As I was riding down, I didn't feel any fear and my anxiety faded away. I was completely enjoying the ride. The road, I think, is wide enough. There were parts where the rocks on the ground were loose but I managed to tackle them with ease. And although there were lots of hairpin bends and very sharp curves, if the rider knows that he has to slow down when approaching the bend and not when he is already there, the ride is pretty safe.

While we were resting, Jose told us stories of some riders who fell to the cliff and died. One guy was being playful with his friend and they were pushing each other while on their bikes. One person fell and it's so horrible just thinking how the other guy felt after the incident. The other was a girl who got surprised by a vehicle (not sure if it was coming up or down) and was not able to stop or control her bike and fell. The most recent incident was that of vehicle driven by someone who was drunk.

Waterfalls! And one of the many crosses along the Death Road reminding everyone of the lives claimed by the road.

The ride was approximately four hours though I couldn't be sure because I wasn't really tracking time. I just knew that we were nearing the end of the ride when it started to get hot. It was so hot that I felt like I was back home. But I didn't took my jacket off because I didn't like the sun. Haha. And in the Yungas, I was bitten by small yellow bugs on my arms. They didn't hurt and wasn't itchy at all so I wasn't aware that I already had lots of bites. It has been more than a month but I could still trace the marks left on my skin.

 *All the photos in this post are taken by our guide, Jose, of Vertigo.

(I am trying to post a video but since my connection right now sucks, I will post it soon.)

accommodations: peru

Happy Up Here Guesthouse - Lima

I don't remember the exact reason why I chose this place. Probably, it was the cheapest single room with private bath that I could find. For 20USD, I got a spacious room (albeit dark and old) and breakfast of bread, butter, jam and coffee. I was the only guest that time so I received a very personal service from Ana, the owner. She made sure I had everything I needed for the night before she left. She let me had my breakfast late because I wanted to sleep in, check-out much later because my bus didn't leave until 4pm and called a taxi to take me to the bus station.

The guesthouse is located in a residential area in San Borja but very near bus stations such as Cruz del Sur, Excluciva, among others.


Hospedaje Turistico Recoleta - Cusco

Again, I booked this accommodation before getting to Cusco and the price is 20USD. When the taxi driver told me that we were already in front of the guesthouse, I was confused because I couldn't see where the entrance is. It turns out that I had to ring a bell (which is the case in many guesthouses) before someone opens the door for me. It is a little walk from the Plaza de Armas but at least the streets are not going up.

What I liked about Recoleta is that they serve a hearty breakfast (relatively); two pieces of bread, butter, jam, coffee, egg and banana. But what I really hated is the noise. The floor is wooden so I could hear all the footsteps. My room was beside the dining area so people chatting in the early morning disturbed my sleep. The acoustics was so bad that I could even hear the sound of a bag being zipped open. They are also a little strict because washing of clothes in the toilet was not allowed (it's difficult to dry them anyway, but still) and shower time must be limited. Staff is average. They let me leave my bag when I left for Aguas Calientes.

I learned here that there are no complimentary drinking water in the accommodations at least in Peru and Bolivia. (When I was in Vietnam, all the places I stayed in offered free refills of safe drinking water.)

Hallway of Recoleta.

Hospedaje los Caminantes - Aguas Calientes

I expected everything to be expensive in Aguas Calientes so I consider Los Caminantes as the best value accommodation I had in Peru. I paid 30 Soles for a private room and bath with plenty of hot water. There was no breakfast included but it didn't matter since I left at the crack of dawn to hike up Machu Picchu anyway. WiFi was only available in the lobby.

Los Caminantes is along the train tracks but still relatively quiet. The room I got was facing the river so I had a beautiful view from my window.

View from my room.

??? - Ollantaytambo

I was too exhausted to even bother get the name of this hostel. It's the nearest hostel from the train station (right side of the road if heading to the station). For 25 Soles, I got a room with a private bath. The room was clean enough for my standard and surprisingly, there was also hot shower. The hostel is along a river but the sound of the rushing water was overpowered by the annoying noise from the television the night I was there.

The receiving area has lots of tables and chairs so I assumed it was also a restaurant, but it wasn't. The nearby restaurants were still close at 9am so I had to walk a few hundred meters to get breakfast.


La Posada del Virrey - Arequipa

Posada means inn, so do I call this place an inn? Anyway, I showed up here at night without prior booking. Thanks to the low season, I was able to get a private room, but a shared bath for 25 Soles. Breakfast was not included but they have two kitchens. The place itself looked old. And it was difficult to climb up the very narrow stairs. The rooftop terrace was a lovely touch and there is a nice view of the city at night when the buildings are all lit up.

The shared bathroom was clean. There was plenty of hot water but only from the faucet, not the shower. On my second night, an earthquake rocked Arequipa and for a moment I was scared that the building might collapse.

I booked my one-day tour of the Colca Canyon with them. Staff didn't speak English but I was touched when she walked me outside, hailed a cab for me to the bus station and made sure that the driver charged me the right amount.


Nasca Lodge - Nasca

At a price of only 12USD, they even offer a free pick-up service. Now that's value for money. But I made a mistake in my e-mail and instead of typing 8pm, I put 8am as the time of my departure from Arequipa. When I get there, Maribel, the friendly lady in the lodge who by the way speaks good English was still apologetic that she was not able to send someone to pick me up at the bus station.

The building looked new. My room was big, and I mean really big. I had a small cable television. WiFi was fast but there were times when I lost connection in my room. Breakfast for 6 Soles consist of three pieces of bread, butter, jam, egg, ham, coffee and juice.

I booked a flight over Nasca in the hotel the morning I arrived. And in the afternoon Maribel provided me with a city map and gave suggestions on what to do in town. Since I was undecided on whether I should go to Ica or Paracas the next day, she gave me info on how to get to both towns and possible place to stay.


Hotel Posada del Sol - Ica

I headed to Ica from Nasca eventually. I was lucky that the bus station was just a walking distance to the city center so I can just walk around and look for a room. The first three guesthouses I went to didn't have WiFi so I ended up in Posada del Sol. The price was a little steep considering the area and the season. And the room I was given was in the fifth floor. Elevators are unheard of in budget accommodations.

The staff didn't speak English and wasn't really nice when I checked in. But when I got back the next day from a tour, he suddenly became friendly and tried to engage me in a conversation, in Spanish.


Belen Annex - Lima

As usual, the lack of WiFi in my first choice of accommodation led me to this hostel. During the last days of my travel, a means to communicate with friends became a necessity to me.

The hostel is in a large colonial building on the Plaza San Martin. I was hesitant to enter at first because I couldn't fathom how a budget (45 Soles isn't exactly cheap but I was in Lima) accommodation will exist in such a place. But the charm of the building didn't reflect in my room. Figures. The age showed, and my television didn't work (not that it mattered). And although my room was facing the plaza, I had no windows.

The staff who welcomed me took forever to fill out the guestbook before he gave me my keys. On my first night, the television in its huge lobby was turned on all night so I had difficulty to get some sleep. Fortunately, someone was in his right mind to turn it off the next day.

The gold/yellow door is the entrance to Belen Annex.

reflections from traveling halfway around the globe

Reflection of a snow-capped mountain on Lake Honda. One of the many lakes we visited on the SW Bolivia tour.

A week ago, I came back from traveling solo in Peru and Bolivia for a month and a half. I started toying with the idea of going to South America a year ago when I realized that I will be able to save enough money from my previous job. But when my contract ended, I was vacillating and only decided to push through with the idea six days before I left Manila.

Yes, I was scared that I will regret traveling by the time I get there. I was afraid that something bad might happen to me on the road; or that I will end up getting lost because I don't speak Spanish; or all my cash and cards will be stolen; or that I will never make friends with anyone because of my introversion. And the list of my concerns doesn't end.

However, the idea of traveling kept bugging me. I kept telling myself that if I don't do this now, I might not get another chance (which I proved to be somehow wrong). I had the money, the time (because I was, and still, unemployed) and all I needed was guts and some doze of craziness. So one morning, I found myself buying a  round-trip ticket to Lima. And by that time, there was no turning back.

As I left for the airport, I was still thinking if I was doing the right thing. My anxiety was proven when I faced some problems in Hong Kong. My backpack's hip belt was damaged. I almost cried because of it and was considering to just go back to Manila. Worse, there were many issues to be addressed before I could check-in for my flight to Lima. (Thank you KLM for your discriminating check-in protocols.)

But the good thing is that I was able to gather some strength and not let these little bumps prevent me from going on. It was just the beginning because later on the trip, I had to overcome more bumps. In La Paz, I had to walk up and down a street several times for at least half an hour to find my hotel. My bag was heavy, I haven't had enough sleep from the overnight bus, the altitude makes breathing a toil, I badly needed to pee. And when I finally found my hotel, the staff coldly shooed me away saying (in Spanish because he doesn't speak any English) that he has no vacant room. These things may not seem really serious but they could easily demoralize a weary traveler.

In terms of accommodation, I have my reservations (in both its meanings). I don't want to share a room. I don't want to share a bathroom. And as much as possible, I booked my room in advance to make sure that I get what I wanted. But there are times when we have to sacrifice for our priority.

It was late at night when I reached Ollantaytambo from Aguas Calientes. I didn't have a prior booking because everything in the booking websites were expensive. Call me crazy but by that time, my mind was set that a few dollars was more important than resting my body from several hours of walking up and down Machu Picchu.

Or we just have to accept that getting out of our comfort zone is inevitable when traveling. When I joined the four-day Southwest Bolivia tour, I knew beforehand that the accommodation will be very basic. I knew that I will be sharing the room with whomever I was in the trip with. But I didn't know that there will be no shower for the first three days. Or that there were no toilets along the road. Only baños naturales, señorita.

You're lucky if there are toilets. If none, go pee anywhere.

Toilets or none, traveling in a faraway place has proven that many of my fears are baseless. I was afraid of thieves but the only one I can blame for the stuff I lost is myself (like the forgotten t-shirt in the toilet in a train station). I have this fear that tour organizers always tell you lies but then I enjoyed all the tours I joined. Reading other people's blogs about the horrors of overnight buses made me think twice about taking it. I was in six overnight buses and several daytime trips. Everything went smoothly. The only thing that annoyed me was the occasional vendors selling stuffs from fake silver jewelry to natural medicines in the shorter-distance buses preventing me from getting some much-needed sleep.

When I told a friend that I shared a room with three men for three nights, she was shocked and worried for my safety. Because we never know what people are capable of. But that morbid thought never crossed my mind. I just thought, "Oh, cool. This is new." Our worries are developed from our perception of what we don't know or haven't experienced yet. But once we get subjected to these unknowns, we realize that the world isn't as bad as we think it is; that most of the time people are there to help you, not to take advantage of you; stray dogs won't bite you without apparent reason; and that you are just too paranoid.

At the salt hotel. One of the rooms I shared with two Englishmen and a retired Canadian.

Too paranoid that you make a day-to-day itinerary. A month before I left, I made research and listed the attractions that I must see, the activities I wanted to do, the number of days I will have to spend in a certain place, the bus to take, possible tour agencies and how much everything will cost. In a way it was a good thing because I didn't want to be clueless when I step on a place I am not familiar with. But then, unexpected things come up that will ruin your detailed itinerary. Or sometimes, you just feel like doing something else.

My trip was supposed to be a journey to Machu Picchu. But on my first night in Peru, I decided that I will go to Cusco the next day. I was a little fatalistic and my rationale was that if anything happened to me, at least I have already crossed out in my list the main reason why I was in South America.

Nope, I won't say that after seeing Machu Picchu I could already die. I want to live longer so that I could travel more.

I like the I'll-figure-it-out-when-I-get-there attitude I developed later on the trip. As I noted earlier, I prefer having my room booked before I get to a place. But wanting to save a few dollars more, I ditched Hostelbookers, referred to my LP guidebook for cheaper options or just walk around the city to find an acceptable place. Most of the time the cheaper ones didn't have a website, nor an e-mail address indicated. And that's when another type of adventure begins. Of course for seasoned travelers, this is nothing but a routine. But in my case, finding a hostel in a foreign place becomes a sense of accomplishment.
 
Convenience was also one of the factors why I didn't follow my itinerary. Since there was no direct bus from Cusco to Copacabana, I headed straight to La Paz instead. And I spent much more time in La Paz than I planned to because I got sick (I had TD) and I was still sick (I had bad colds and I didn't want to climb a mountain with a sometimes clogged-sometimes runny nose). I also extended my stay in Sucre mainly because I was foolish enough to wait for something to happen. But little did I know that all these delays and crazy decisions will lead me to the one thing that gave my trip a different meaning.

Here's the thing. I don't believe that all things happen for a reason. I don't believe that you meet people for a reason. It's just plain crazy to give meanings to everything. You meet people because you're on the road. And it just so happens that they were taking the same road. And so with all the people (travelers and locals) I met, I didn't expect to have any strong connections with them. Add to that the fact that I am introverted. I would have been happy if I did but that would've been unlikely. But there was one who got really close, and who really got into me.

To make the long story short, the feeling wasn't mutual. We got along just fine but I felt that for him, I was only one of the hundreds who are just passersby. As my friend puts it, traveling is like a mini-lifetime. You get to a place you know nothing about. You don't know anybody at first. And then you meet people, you have fun, make friends, maybe get your heart broken, too. But eventually, you have to say goodbye. And the passerby, which is me, while bidding goodbye was trying to hold back the tears I wish he could see and that would make him want me to stay.

Did I regret any part of this trip? Nope. Though I admit there were times I wish I was home eating sinigang rather than a bland grilled meat. I'll have my heart broken many times. I'll sacrifice enough sleep and skip shower. I'll wear the same clothes for days on end. Heck, I'll even spend the wee hours of a really cold morning in a plaza listening to bizarre stories of a guy (that is probably high in whatever) if it means traveling all over again. And yes, going on this trip turns out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life.