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08. Feb, 2010

Rio de Janeiro by Bus

Rio de Janeiro by Bus

Arriving at immigration at 11am, the immigration office was closed until 2pm. The next bus to leave was 3pm to Campo Grande, but I doubt I would make that bus. The line for immigration, once open, was hours long.

Finally, 2pm came and immigration opened. Five hours after arriving in Corumbá, I was processed and legally in Brazil. What I was finding out, was that Brazil was full of bureaucracy, and was a country that was going to be very expensive also. A bus ride to Camp Grande was 70 reales. 270 reales to Rio de Janeiro. If you get and exchange rate of 1.9 reales to a dollar, you are doing very very good! So you do the math!

I have just travel half way across the continent, from Lima to Brazil for about $50USD. Now it cost me 3 times that to travel across a small part of Brazil. Not even half the distance I had already covered. Food was also very expensive. Doing simple comparison, it seemed like Brazil was about 7 times more expensive than Bolivia.

The weather was a nice 37C. A wonderful change from being atop Huayna Potosi at -15C. But was it worth it for the astronomically price increase? I guess only time will tell.

Another 6 hours went by after arriving in Corumba, and we were boarding our bus to Campo Grande. I’ll give Brazil one thing; their buses are very nice! First class! And better than I have ever seen in any of the America’s, including the USA. Maybe that was why the price was so high. Anyways, we boarded the bus at 5pm, and were to arrive in Campo Grande a little after midnight.

Eventually we arrived in Campo Grande at 1am. The bus terminal here was first class also! The nicest and cleanest I have ever seen. It reminded me of the JFK terminal in NYC when it was new.

I couldn’t sleep all night, so I stayed up all night and people watched while charging my laptop and listening to my iPod Shuffle.

Around 8am the ticket counters started to open, and it was time to get an idea of the price and how long it would take to get to where. Pricing in Brazil was about 7 fold what it has been so far. I’ll be going broke really fast. One bus ticket to Rio was 230 reales and it was another 24 hours ride. With no choice, I got the ticket and set about waiting a few more hours till the bus was ready to leave at noon.

The trip was uneventful, but first class, and we made many stops along the way for food. No street food here. We always stopped at buffets and convent stores within Brazil. Soon, I hope, I’ll be in Rio de Janeiro.

05. Feb, 2010

Traveling Across Bolivia by Bus

Traveling Across Bolivia by Bus

After saying our goodbyes to Vanessa and Jesse, we headed towards the bus terminal. Of course, it started raining along the way. Or maybe I should say pouring! And lucky us, it even started to hail too! What this means, is that streets are totally flooded and traffic comes to a complete standstill at certain points. The city bus we were on, was never going to make it in time for us to catch our other bus to Santa Cruz. So we hopped out of our bus, flagged down a taxi and got to the bus terminal with about 2 minutes to spare. Drenched and soaking wet, we rain into the bus terminal hoping to catch our bus on time. Turns out, the bus had been delayed another hour because of the rain. So we still had plenty of time to kill.

Once on our to Santa Cruz bus, the ride was basically uneventful. Paying an extra 10 Bolivianos to get a semi-cama bus was well worth it. Approximately 18 hours and 130 B’s later, we arrived in Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz has a very large and nice terminal. You can take the bus or the train into Brazil from here. Everyone wants to help. Or maybe I should say, everyone wants your business. This may be intimidating, or it may be good, depending on how you look at it. Since competition abounds, prices get competitive. We found the prices ranging from 130 B’s to 80 B’s to get from Santa Cruz to the border town of Quijarro. We opted for the 80 B bus which left at 5:30pm. We had 7 hours to kill. So we checkout our bags in and decided to explore the town.

Santa Cruz really has nothing to offer. Right across from the bus terminal is what looked like a very nice hotel. A beautiful reception room, a pool, restaurant area, and more. We asked, and the price was 35 B’s per night, or $5USD. Gotta love Bolivia and it’s prices. This was obviously upper end, because you can get hostels in La Paz for 10 B. Continuing our journey, we walked a couple miles and found a Grocery Store with all the modern conveniences of home. I knew we had another long night ahead of us, so I bought some water, peanuts, yogurt, and a donut. Half was for lunch, the other half I would save for my overnight bus trip.

It was hot, finally! A nice change from being cold, and at altitude for so long. The walk back to the bus terminal found me pretty wet with sweat. But I wasn’t complaining. Once in the bus terminal, I still had another hour till the bus was to depart. Sitting on a bench, with 500 other people around me, eating peanuts, INTERPOL police picked me out and decided to check my documentation. Why I was targeted, I have no idea. But lucky for me, it was an uneventful 15 minutes of interrogation. Soon, I was out of the INTERPOL office and boarding the bus to Quijarro.

This bus was a little different. Right away we knew why it was only 80 B. It was closer to a chicken bus than a real bus. If you know what an OMSA is, it was a little like that. The seat I picked out was specifically for watching the TV. Except that there was no TV there. Instead, there was a speaker tied above my head with strips of an inner tube from an old tire. Oh well, the price was right.

The night was long and rough. The road was muddy, full of water in some places, not paved, and bumpy as can be. Time after time we would stop, or even back up, to allow other oncoming vehicles to pass. And when the road was good, we stopped again and again. This time by drug enforcement agency. Most the time they just wanted to see the documentation of the bus driver and check the baggage. But once, we all were required to exit the bus. They checked everyone’s bags, then checked everyone’s documentation as well. Talking to one of the drug enforcement agents, they explained that along all the roads that exit the country they set up these spot check road blocks. They are looking for coca, marijuana, or other ingredients used to make cocaine. Thirty minutes later, we were on our way again.

Finally we arrived in Quijarro. From that bus depot there, it’s another 5 B taxi right to the border. The border of Bolivia and Brazil is where you get your passport stamped for exiting Bolivia. You still must continue on into the town of Corumba, Brazil to go through passport control and eventually get checked into the country of Brazil. After Quijarro, we walked across the border and waited for the local bus to Corumba. It was a 30 minute ride to Corumba and the immigration office. One bus takes you to a main terminal. And from there, you need to catch another bus to the immigration office and main bus depot.

It was a long 2 days full of sleepless nights, bumpy roads, and sleeping in bus terminals. But finally, we made it to Brazil. Another 2 days or so, and we would finally be in Rio de Janeiro.

03. Feb, 2010

Huayna Potosi

Huayna Potosi

Huayna Potosi, at 6088 meters, is one of the highest mountains in Boliva. I got this crazy idea to go climb the thing. Why? I dont’ know. Because I can, because it’s there. So anyways, after checking around, I made arrangements to go climbing.

Leaving La Paz in the morning, you drive up to the base of Huayna Potosi, and start your climb around noon. The drive up there is amazing. Or at least it was to me. You wind your way through a few pueblos and end up in the high country which I would describe as tundra. You are well above the timber line, so no trees grow here. You’ll see some scrub brush and llamas grazing all around. Off in the distance you can see the base of Huayna Potosi. This mountain is huge! Or at least it was to me! Covered in snow and glaciers, the summit can’t yet be seen as it is hidden far above the clouds.

After passing by a platinum mine, you wind your way up the mountain, driving past a small lake until you reach the end of the road. The rest of the way to the summit is by foot.

At over 4500 meters, the air is thin, and your lungs can feel it with every step you take. Hiking up the trail and climbing over boulders and rocks becomes a real challenge. Climbing higher and higher, you become engulfed in a cloud, and the landscape seems surreal. Off to your left, you pass by a glacier, and the water flowing out from underneath it is almost emerald green. Nothing grows up here except for the occasional small clump of short grass. Not even enough for any animal to eat. About 2 hours later, with the temperature dropping, and the air thinning, you finally reach base camp at over 5100 meters. Here is where you spend the night before attempting your ascent, early the next morning.

The base camp consists of an outhouse, a kitchen sheltered by a tarp, and the main cabin, where you eat and sleep. There’s no heat or fireplace here, so I hope you brought some warm and dry clothes. The temperatures reach -15C at night, and you never seem to be able to warm up.

I’ve never been this high before, and it was a real awakening for me. With most your clothes on, you lay curled up inside your sleeping bag trying to keep warm. You dare not move, because every move you make, your body finds another cold spot that sends cold shivers straight to your bones. The air you breath is cold and thin.

Imagine running a 1/4 mile at a pretty brisk pace. When you are done, you are not overly tired, but you have depleted yourself of oxygen and your breathing is deep as you gasp for air. Well, that’s the same feeling you get as you sleep! Lying perfectly still, you are always out of breath. Oh yes, and did I mention it was pretty damn cold too?

There’s no light here, so when the sun goes down, it’s time for bed. And you need all the sleep you can get. Around midnight you wake up, have as much breakfast as you can stomach, then start your ascent to the summit well into the night.

Myself, along with 7 other guys, woke up at midnight, and started our ascent around 1am. Less than 100 yards from the main cabin, you stop and affix your crampons to your climbing boots. From this point forward, it’s all snow and ice.

You climb start at about a 35-45 degree incline. And literally, you are taking baby steps. With each step you take, you gasp for air, and your legs feel like they have 50 pound weights attached to them. It’s all you can do to concentrate, placing one foot in front of another. Again, and again, and again. Slowly making progress, up the steep incline towards the summit.

As your hiking, sooner or later, you hit a soft and your legs sink into the snow up to your hips! Ugh! Now you much expend even more energy, that you don’t have, to pull yourself out, and start on and upwards again. This cycle repeats itself over and over again.

I remember being so fatigued that I just wanted to fall asleep. And given the opportunity, I’m sure it would have been no problem. However, if you fall asleep here, you’ll die in no time. So it’s not such a good idea to take a nap.

Chewing a wad a coca leaves on one side of my mouth, I would stuff chocolate in the other side of my mouth to get some quick energy. The funny thing was, the chocolate would never melt! Not even in my mouth. Maybe that will give you an idea of how cold it was up there.

At one point, I made my way over a crevice. You walk along an 18 inch path that on both sides drops off. In front of you, is a shear vertical wall that goes straight up. Upon reaching the end of the small path, you leap forward, digging your ice pick and crampons into the wall in front of you. Slowly, you scale up the wall making new foot holes with your crampons, and by placing your ice pick higher and higher. Eventually, your back on terrain that you can walk on once again.

I made it to 5500 meters before I could go no further and decided to turn back. Actually, I could have gone further, but there was no way I would have ever made it to the summit at over 6000 meters. I just didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t breath, I was cold, I was tired. I just couldn’t do it. No excuses, the mountain won!

Later that day, I discovered only 4 of the 8 people that started actually made it to the summit. Some were just to fatigued like me. While others got altitude sickness and started vomiting uncontrollable.

Huayna Potosi kicked my butt! But it’s an experience I’ll never forget. And if your the kind of person who like challenges, then Huayna Potosi is definitely for you!

02. Feb, 2010

Jesse Rocks La Paz

Jesse Rocks La Paz

The outskirts of La Paz are a little on the sketchy side. I dont think I’d really want to be there. But, if you are rich or middle class, living in La Paz in awesome! Now being rich or middle class is all relative.

The currency in La Paz is the Boliviano, or the “B” for short. You get seven of them for every US dollar. Average income here is something like 1000 B’s per month, or $150USD. So your money here tends to go a very very long way. Staying at a hostel or getting a meal cost around 10 B’s. Public transportation will cost you 1 B.

Staying with two Canadians from Edmonton, we had lots of time to talk! There is no English spoken here. And Jesse, like me, doesn’t speak Spanish that well. So having a couple English people to talk to was like heaven!

Turns out we share some of the same interests in music. It also turns out that Jessie is a very competent musician and plays the banjo, guitar, and is learning the charango. A good portion of every day always revolved around sharing MP3’s, learning about each others musical interests, and listening to Jesse play the guitar.

Jesse writes most of his own music and plays by ear. I hope you enjoy his playing as much as I did. He screwed up a few times in the middle of the song, but blames that on the fact he just got done washing dishes and his fingers were soft. It doesn’t matter. Washing dishes or not, Jesse rocks in La Paz!

Find out more about what Jesse and Vanessa are doing by reading their blog

31. Jan, 2010

The Death Road

The Death Road

There’s a road located in the mountains above La Paz that was once, or still is, the most dangerous road in the world. Because of this, it has earned the name “The Death Road”! For between $70 and $85 USD, local tour companies are more then willing to drive you up there, and take you on a guided tour down this 63 kilometer road. Obviously, this is something I cant pass up.

I choose a company called “Madness” for a couple of reasons. One, their prices were pretty damn good! Second, they have top notch equipment and their bikes rock! Third, Beatrize and Fernado the owners, are really really good people.

Leaving La Paz very very early in morning, you start by get fitted for all your equipment. Pants, reflective jacket, gloves, bike, and of course your helmet.

We arrived at the top of the mountain somewhere after 8am amidst a snow storm. Yes, at 4700 meters, it was snowing outside! This was going to be a fun day. Not exactly what I signed up for or was expecting, but fun nevertheless.

Because of the conditions, I was unable to take as many photos as I wanted. So I’ll try to describe as best as I can, what happened that day.

After a brief introduction of how to ride a bike, we were off. Riding single file down the first part of the mountain, the road is paved. Not 500 meters into the ride, CRASH! Down goes our guide. The first victim of road rash! Ouch! Nothing bad. But if our guide goes down, and he has to be the most experienced and best rider by far, I’m wondering what the rest of the day has in store for us!

Remember, its a combination of rain and snow falling pretty heavily on us now. The road is wet and slippery, and everyone is soaked with freezing rain all the way to their skin! There are buses and cars everywhere, and this section of the road is pretty busy. It’s a main highway.

Without much effort at all, you can easily do 60-70 kph on these mountain bikes. In better conditions, and with a road bike, I know I could easily hit 100 kph or more. It’s a pretty damn fun road to ride!

About 20 kilometers later, we stop at at a checkpoint where you have to pay 25 B’s. From this point forward, the cars continue on down the “new” paved highway. We leave the pavement in exchange for the “old” gravel road where so many have died!

I’ve never really ridden a mountain bike. Well, not like these. I bet they have 18 inches of travel in the front forks alone, with more suspension in the rear. They are probably impossible to use for ridding uphill, and a real pain in the ass to ride over level terrain. But for downhill, these bikes kick ass!

At first, I was trying to cut my path by choosing the safest and flattest route, avoiding rocks and potholes as much as possible. After awhile of getting used to the bike, you can haul ass and choose the straightest line possible. Regardless of any rocks, potholes or other obstacles they may be your way.

As we descend in elevation, the terrain became very tropical. With ivy, ferns, and waterfalls everywhere. In every way, very reminiscent of the movie “Jurassic Park”. Infact, there were a couple comments made from others that if they were to see a dinosaur appear, they wouldn’t be surprised at all.

Along the way, we stopped at a couple of areas that were marked with plaques or crosses, to remind us of others that have died biking the same course as we were on.

About four hours later, we made it to the coca fields at the bottom of the mountain, and the end of our adventure. My shoes, sock and rest of my clothes were still wet from the rain and show that morning. But overall, it was a pretty damn good day!

28. Jan, 2010

Next Stop Bolivia

Next Stop Bolivia

Che GuevaraAfter a week in Peru, it was time to continue our adventure. Next stop, Bolivia! Early in the morning, we walk down to the bus station in search of transportation from Puno to La Paz, Bolivia. There are only two buses that depart every day. One leaves at 7:30am and the other at 2:30pm. That’s simple, I was sleeping at 7:30am so 2:30pm it is.

Not so fast Skippy! This is South America and nothing is really as it seems. Service into La Paz has been suspended because of social unrest, and it has become to dangerous to drive across the border! The exact words given to us by the bus company was “muy peligroso”.

Plan “B”. Catch a bus to Copacabana (which is right across the Bolivian border) and worry about getting to La Paz from there.

2 o’clock rolls around and we check out of our hostel and head towards the bus terminal. No really excited about walking again will our backpacks, we catch a ride on a local taxi.

The taxi’s here are cool. A cross between a rickshaw and a pimped out tricycle! Two people can sit in the front, and the driver sits in the back and peddles. It’s like a backwards pedicab. Anyways, we finally get to the bus station and are on our way towards Copacabana. Besides being hit up for a HUGE retaliation visa at the border, everything went fine.

Once across the border we made our way to Copacabana and found a bus going to La Paz. Twenty Boliviano’s, and three hours later we were in La Paz! The bus driver didn’t feel like going all the way to the bus terminal, and instead, dropped us off in some criminally infested ghetto. Along with a couple of Argentinian’s we meet, we flagged down a cab and got out of there.

Finally, over 10 hours later, we were in La Paz and made our way to Vanessa and Jessie’s place. Our new couch surfing best friends!

27. Jan, 2010

Isla de Taquile

Isla de Taquile

Taquile is another island in Lake Titikaka about a one hour boat trip from Amantani or three hours from Puno. These people also speak Quechua so are known as Incans also. The people on Taquile are experts in textile. The men knit by hand, while the women use looms. The most interesting thing about these people, are their customs as they pertain to courting and marriage.

The men in this society wear knitted hats. Red if you are married, and white if you are single. This makes it very easy to tell who’s married and who is single on this island. However, being single, you have options. You can be single and available, single and have a girlfriend, and single and living with someone. This is all distinguished by the way the hat folds down from their head. If the hat hangs to the right, he has a girlfriend. If the hat hangs to the rear, he is currently living with someone. If the hat hangs to the left, he’s free game and available.

Interesting, is the fact that if you have a girlfriend and decide to live together, you both live in the mans parents house. You can even procreate during this time. Marriage is not a necessity to have babies here.

The women, during a very young age, start eyeing the men looking for who will be their mate later in life. Now I would think, most women who check out men look at their butt, their face, or their physic. (Comments? Anyone?) Well, not here. These women are checking out the mens hands. They are looking for the “golden hands”! A man who knits well, will obviously make a good husband!

Also at a young age, the women start to knit a “marriage” belt for their future husband. When they are knitting this belt, it’s a secret, and no one knows it exists or when they are knitting. The belt is in two parts. One part is black and white, while the other part is very colorful.

The part of the belt that is black and white is woven with wool and human hair. The women actually use pieces of their own hair in the making of this belt. Once a husband is chosen and marriage has taken place, the women gives this belt to her new husband as a gift. It’s akin to a wedding ring in the Western civilization.

I found a man with a red hat and one of these belts on, and decided to ask him some question. I asked if he was married since wore the red hat as well as the marriage belt. He said yes, and was more than happy to show me his hat, his belt, as well as his little pouch of coca leaves that everyone carries around. Finally, I asked him which is better, to be married or single? He laughed, and said “single” of course! Hopefully, his wife will never read this blog.



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