It's four years today since my father died. Four years! How did that happen so fast?
My friend M's father died suddenly last month. I still remember how it felt. And I still think about my father everyday. I hope she'll be okay.
28 April 2006
25 April 2006
In cyberspace, nobody can hear you scream
So now that I’m home there’s the question about what to do with this blog? Treat it as some sort of travel journal – an intermittent record of a journey that’s now finished – and file it away. Or keep posting here even though I suspect that no one looks at it anyway.
Like many, I also have a lingering suspicion of blogs – are they anything more than a vanity project? What are they for?
But really who cares. Some of the best blogs often become much more than vanity publishing. Or maybe they’re not blogs anymore?
Whatever… I’ve found that I actually like the process; its somewhere to record whatever interests me at the time. Like a diary it’s also a place to document my internal dialogue (or should that be monologue?), which is always likely to be subject to revisionism over time. Why not keep a diary I hear you say. The answer is: I do. But this is different. A different medium always produces different results.
Like many, I also have a lingering suspicion of blogs – are they anything more than a vanity project? What are they for?
But really who cares. Some of the best blogs often become much more than vanity publishing. Or maybe they’re not blogs anymore?
Whatever… I’ve found that I actually like the process; its somewhere to record whatever interests me at the time. Like a diary it’s also a place to document my internal dialogue (or should that be monologue?), which is always likely to be subject to revisionism over time. Why not keep a diary I hear you say. The answer is: I do. But this is different. A different medium always produces different results.
20 April 2006
Back in the USSR
Ooops, no it’s London. At Easter. There’s no-one here tho, making it feel a bit like the USSR.
It’s nice to be here, despite the predictably bad weather (another reminder of the USSR). No, really, it is great to be home. The best thing about being home was at the airport to meet me. And its true, the good thing about being away is coming home again.
Some of the other good things about being here and not there are: not having to stuff all your possessions into a backpack every day, or having to plan in detail where you’ll get your next meal, or thinking will I get the skitter if I eat this?
And being at home again is NOTHING like being on a night bus in Bolivia at 4am with all your important things secreted about your person while you keep a very firm grip on your daypack hoping against hope that you might actually get some sleep before the bus arrives.
The big thing now that I am home will be avoiding the thought that it feels like I’ve never been away. Cos I do feel like I have been away and I don’t want to lose that feeling. Especially as I had such a great time. I’ve seen and done stuff I hadn’t imagined seeing and doing, and hopefully the impact of the last 3+ months will linger for a while to come.
This may be a little more difficult than I thought tho. I’d been back in London for less than 100 hours before going back to work. At the same place. It’s still mostly the same, minus a few familiar faces. A week sitting on my arse before going back to work would have been a nice luxury. Tho not one I could afford, unfortunately.
So here I am, back at my desk worried that I may soon feel like I’ve never been away, yet relieved that I’m not currently fending off street-sellers in Cusco and that I won’t get the skitter from anything I eat in London(?). And I can’t help but think that nice as my job might be and nice as it is to have an income again, I’d much rather be having a nice time in a far off place. Sigh…
It’s nice to be here, despite the predictably bad weather (another reminder of the USSR). No, really, it is great to be home. The best thing about being home was at the airport to meet me. And its true, the good thing about being away is coming home again.
Some of the other good things about being here and not there are: not having to stuff all your possessions into a backpack every day, or having to plan in detail where you’ll get your next meal, or thinking will I get the skitter if I eat this?
And being at home again is NOTHING like being on a night bus in Bolivia at 4am with all your important things secreted about your person while you keep a very firm grip on your daypack hoping against hope that you might actually get some sleep before the bus arrives.
The big thing now that I am home will be avoiding the thought that it feels like I’ve never been away. Cos I do feel like I have been away and I don’t want to lose that feeling. Especially as I had such a great time. I’ve seen and done stuff I hadn’t imagined seeing and doing, and hopefully the impact of the last 3+ months will linger for a while to come.
This may be a little more difficult than I thought tho. I’d been back in London for less than 100 hours before going back to work. At the same place. It’s still mostly the same, minus a few familiar faces. A week sitting on my arse before going back to work would have been a nice luxury. Tho not one I could afford, unfortunately.
So here I am, back at my desk worried that I may soon feel like I’ve never been away, yet relieved that I’m not currently fending off street-sellers in Cusco and that I won’t get the skitter from anything I eat in London(?). And I can’t help but think that nice as my job might be and nice as it is to have an income again, I’d much rather be having a nice time in a far off place. Sigh…
18 April 2006
You can see the Southern Cross in Peru too: the Inca Trail and Machu Pichu
Some thoughts on the Inca Trail…
Unfortunately I was sick on 3 of the 4 days – the usual stuff: diarrhea and vomiting –and wasn’t able to eat anything. This has maybe coloured my perceptions. Anyway…
The trail itself was not one of the world's great hikes in my opinion - too much hype and very over-rated. There was too much walking on stones and too many steps (up and down), which is hard on the legs. Also, there are 500 other people (including porters) hiking each section of the trail each day, which makes it a real procession. Also, the trail is quite dirty: lots of garbage and it smells like a toilet. Basically it’s running beyond capacity.
The presence of the porters also made for a strange hiking experience. These poor guys, often wearing sandals made of car tyres and carrying loads in excess of 25kg (tents, huge gas bottles, ridiculous amounts of food), would run along the trail trying to stay ahead of the tourists so they could put up tents and prepare food etc. It was a real first class/second class type of experience that I'm not keen to repeat.
I also had a crap load of people in my group, which also blighted the experience. And finally there was a landslide blocking the entrance to Machu Pichu from the trail, which meant on the 3rd day we had to hike 10+ hours to Aguas Calientes, the nearest town to MP, where we stayed in a shitty hostel before being bussed up to MP on day 4. This meant we didn't get to see the stunning views of MP at dawn from the Sun Gate.
However, Machu Pichu itself was a magical place – a real must see. Despite the fact that I got up at 4.45am and was chundering by 5.15 before we had even left the hostel, I thought MP was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. We were there by 7am and it was still completely misty, making it barely possible to see the ruins or the mountains. But by 8.30 the mist was lifting and the ruins came into view.
Our Inca Trail guide gave us a typically boring spiel about MP (he specialised in the banal) before we were left to do our own thing. Despite how I felt, I somehow climbed Wanay Pichu (the high, narrow mountain you see behind MP), which gave breath-taking views of MP just as the last of the mist cleared.
Later I wandered around the site some more before finding a spot at the top of the ruins where I could see the whole site. I sat there mesmerised by it all for two hours (maybe more< I lossed track of time). Even when it started to rain, I was happy to sit there taking it all in: the mist slowly starting to shroud the ruins; the tourists arriving in their colourful plastic ponchos, looking like hundreds and thousands scattered on a piece of bread. It was amazing. I left to return to Cusco reluctantly.
There are pic's of Machu Pichu on flickr and I will post some here when the technology allows.
Unfortunately I was sick on 3 of the 4 days – the usual stuff: diarrhea and vomiting –and wasn’t able to eat anything. This has maybe coloured my perceptions. Anyway…
The trail itself was not one of the world's great hikes in my opinion - too much hype and very over-rated. There was too much walking on stones and too many steps (up and down), which is hard on the legs. Also, there are 500 other people (including porters) hiking each section of the trail each day, which makes it a real procession. Also, the trail is quite dirty: lots of garbage and it smells like a toilet. Basically it’s running beyond capacity.
The presence of the porters also made for a strange hiking experience. These poor guys, often wearing sandals made of car tyres and carrying loads in excess of 25kg (tents, huge gas bottles, ridiculous amounts of food), would run along the trail trying to stay ahead of the tourists so they could put up tents and prepare food etc. It was a real first class/second class type of experience that I'm not keen to repeat.
I also had a crap load of people in my group, which also blighted the experience. And finally there was a landslide blocking the entrance to Machu Pichu from the trail, which meant on the 3rd day we had to hike 10+ hours to Aguas Calientes, the nearest town to MP, where we stayed in a shitty hostel before being bussed up to MP on day 4. This meant we didn't get to see the stunning views of MP at dawn from the Sun Gate.
However, Machu Pichu itself was a magical place – a real must see. Despite the fact that I got up at 4.45am and was chundering by 5.15 before we had even left the hostel, I thought MP was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. We were there by 7am and it was still completely misty, making it barely possible to see the ruins or the mountains. But by 8.30 the mist was lifting and the ruins came into view.
Our Inca Trail guide gave us a typically boring spiel about MP (he specialised in the banal) before we were left to do our own thing. Despite how I felt, I somehow climbed Wanay Pichu (the high, narrow mountain you see behind MP), which gave breath-taking views of MP just as the last of the mist cleared.
Later I wandered around the site some more before finding a spot at the top of the ruins where I could see the whole site. I sat there mesmerised by it all for two hours (maybe more< I lossed track of time). Even when it started to rain, I was happy to sit there taking it all in: the mist slowly starting to shroud the ruins; the tourists arriving in their colourful plastic ponchos, looking like hundreds and thousands scattered on a piece of bread. It was amazing. I left to return to Cusco reluctantly.
There are pic's of Machu Pichu on flickr and I will post some here when the technology allows.
12 April 2006
Counting down
It's been a long time since I last wrote anything here. I am currently in Arica, the northern-most city in Chile. Arica is a pleasant if unremarkable little place, renowned only as the home to a church built by Gustav Eiffel. However, it’s nice to feel the sun and be at sea-level again after 5+ weeks at altitude, and to be contemplating the fact that in two days I’ll be home. Yay!!
Now that going home is such an immediate reality I am really looking forward to leaving South America. All the little things that are part of travelling in South America (unreliable buses, Peruvian retailers, dodgy food) have started to really annoy me. It must be time to go.
The long gap between posts is mostly due to the amount of travelling and trekking I have been doing in the last couple of weeks. I have been trekking for 7 of the last 10 days and on buses the rest of the time.
Apologies, there are no photos in this post (ancient computers again), so please go to flickr - use the link on the right.
So what's been happening....
I left La Paz as soon as I could after the mountain biking. Which seems like a really long time ago now. La Paz really was a festering shit-hole. Just 'orrible. I could go on and on about all the reasons why I hated it: the noise, the crime (had my pocket slashed), the smell, the crowds... It's just a big ugly city; we've all seen its type before.
So I escaped to Copacabana (the one in Bolivia, not Rio), which was a relaxed (and relaxing) little town on the shores of Lake Titicaca. After La Paz, where it was impossible to find something decent to eat, the oversupply of cafes was mana from heaven.
First morning in Copa we witnessed a crazy car blessing ceremony outside the cathedral. The owners cover the vehicles in flowers, and then the priest blesses the car with holy water, and the owners spray beer all over their vehicles. A few firecrackers round the whole thing off. Hopefully this won’t take of anywhere else. Worryingly the drivers here seem to have more faith in the mystical powers of this ceremony than they do in the road rules or concentrating on the road while they’re driving. Don’t rent a car if you ever go to Bolivia, stick with the buses; they’re the biggest thing on the road.
The main reason for visiting Copacabana was to see Isla del Sol, one of the small islands that dot the lake. The Inca's believed the sun and earth separated there. The island has several Inca and Tiawanaku (pre-Inca) ruins. It’s possible to walk the length of the island in an afternoon along an old Inca road.
From Copa I crossed into Peru and headed for Cusco, on yet another night bus. This one managed to break down less than five minutes after we left the bus terminal.
Cusco is a likeable but touristy place; although it must be murder in the high season when it’s full of elderly, over-weight Americans. A word of warning though. The retailers and street-sellers in Cusco (and the rest of Peru) are some of the most aggressive and annoying people you are ever likely to encounter. Everywhere there are hawkers and touts trying to flog everything from postcards to traditional handcrafts (the old women selling the handcrafts were the worst). The moment you pass a shop, a restaurant or a travel agency (you don’t have to walk in) there’s someone shouting at you, a sales tactic that encouraged homicidal urges and not an intention to buy. Great cafes in Cusco though. I had a fantastic four-course lunch of soup, kingfish, cheesecake and a drink for $3.50.
In Cusco I managed to make a booking to trek the Inca Trail. Before I arrived in South America I’d been looking forward to going to Machu Pichu but had lingering doubts about doing the trek. Mostly these related to hang-ups about doing an organised trek where there are 500 people walking along the track at same time as me. The cost was also a factor: on the internet trek costs from US$300 up (way up!). So I figured if I could get a cheap booking in Cusco I would do the trek. As luck would have it, there was space available only on the weekend that I wanted to go (the trek is limited to 500 people, including porters, per day). The rest of April and May were already fully booked. The trek cost me US$220 (some people I met paid $170, but got what they paid for). More on the Inca Trail and Machu Pichu in a later post.
From Cusco I also did a tour of the sacred valley, the river valley between Cusco and Machu Pichu. It was an amazing trip, particularly the ruins at Ollantaytambo (halfway between Cusco and MP), which was a major Inca site. There is a vast network of terraces and buildings built on adjoining hills, all in complete harmony with Inca spiritual beliefs, scientific and cosmological knowledge and the environment. The architecture is stunning, and the stonework absolutely beautiful. The stones at Ollantaytambo, which are enormous (the largest is 6m by 1.8m), were sourced from a quarry at 5000m, and some how rolled down to the valley floor some 3000m below and then up 1000m to the site. Each stone was then individually carved so that it fitted into position - no mortar is used in the temples and other important buildings.
The buildings survived for hundreds of years in an earthquake zone and are now ruins only as a result of the destruction wrought by the Spanish. The Spaniards commonly (in Cusco, Ollantaytambo, Chinchero and other places in the area) would destroy Inca temples and buildings and then build catholic churches on top of the ruins to demonstrate Spanish and catholic superiority.
Next stop the Inca Trail and Machu Pichu.
Now that going home is such an immediate reality I am really looking forward to leaving South America. All the little things that are part of travelling in South America (unreliable buses, Peruvian retailers, dodgy food) have started to really annoy me. It must be time to go.
The long gap between posts is mostly due to the amount of travelling and trekking I have been doing in the last couple of weeks. I have been trekking for 7 of the last 10 days and on buses the rest of the time.
Apologies, there are no photos in this post (ancient computers again), so please go to flickr - use the link on the right.
So what's been happening....
I left La Paz as soon as I could after the mountain biking. Which seems like a really long time ago now. La Paz really was a festering shit-hole. Just 'orrible. I could go on and on about all the reasons why I hated it: the noise, the crime (had my pocket slashed), the smell, the crowds... It's just a big ugly city; we've all seen its type before.
So I escaped to Copacabana (the one in Bolivia, not Rio), which was a relaxed (and relaxing) little town on the shores of Lake Titicaca. After La Paz, where it was impossible to find something decent to eat, the oversupply of cafes was mana from heaven.
First morning in Copa we witnessed a crazy car blessing ceremony outside the cathedral. The owners cover the vehicles in flowers, and then the priest blesses the car with holy water, and the owners spray beer all over their vehicles. A few firecrackers round the whole thing off. Hopefully this won’t take of anywhere else. Worryingly the drivers here seem to have more faith in the mystical powers of this ceremony than they do in the road rules or concentrating on the road while they’re driving. Don’t rent a car if you ever go to Bolivia, stick with the buses; they’re the biggest thing on the road.
The main reason for visiting Copacabana was to see Isla del Sol, one of the small islands that dot the lake. The Inca's believed the sun and earth separated there. The island has several Inca and Tiawanaku (pre-Inca) ruins. It’s possible to walk the length of the island in an afternoon along an old Inca road.
From Copa I crossed into Peru and headed for Cusco, on yet another night bus. This one managed to break down less than five minutes after we left the bus terminal.
Cusco is a likeable but touristy place; although it must be murder in the high season when it’s full of elderly, over-weight Americans. A word of warning though. The retailers and street-sellers in Cusco (and the rest of Peru) are some of the most aggressive and annoying people you are ever likely to encounter. Everywhere there are hawkers and touts trying to flog everything from postcards to traditional handcrafts (the old women selling the handcrafts were the worst). The moment you pass a shop, a restaurant or a travel agency (you don’t have to walk in) there’s someone shouting at you, a sales tactic that encouraged homicidal urges and not an intention to buy. Great cafes in Cusco though. I had a fantastic four-course lunch of soup, kingfish, cheesecake and a drink for $3.50.
In Cusco I managed to make a booking to trek the Inca Trail. Before I arrived in South America I’d been looking forward to going to Machu Pichu but had lingering doubts about doing the trek. Mostly these related to hang-ups about doing an organised trek where there are 500 people walking along the track at same time as me. The cost was also a factor: on the internet trek costs from US$300 up (way up!). So I figured if I could get a cheap booking in Cusco I would do the trek. As luck would have it, there was space available only on the weekend that I wanted to go (the trek is limited to 500 people, including porters, per day). The rest of April and May were already fully booked. The trek cost me US$220 (some people I met paid $170, but got what they paid for). More on the Inca Trail and Machu Pichu in a later post.
From Cusco I also did a tour of the sacred valley, the river valley between Cusco and Machu Pichu. It was an amazing trip, particularly the ruins at Ollantaytambo (halfway between Cusco and MP), which was a major Inca site. There is a vast network of terraces and buildings built on adjoining hills, all in complete harmony with Inca spiritual beliefs, scientific and cosmological knowledge and the environment. The architecture is stunning, and the stonework absolutely beautiful. The stones at Ollantaytambo, which are enormous (the largest is 6m by 1.8m), were sourced from a quarry at 5000m, and some how rolled down to the valley floor some 3000m below and then up 1000m to the site. Each stone was then individually carved so that it fitted into position - no mortar is used in the temples and other important buildings.
The buildings survived for hundreds of years in an earthquake zone and are now ruins only as a result of the destruction wrought by the Spanish. The Spaniards commonly (in Cusco, Ollantaytambo, Chinchero and other places in the area) would destroy Inca temples and buildings and then build catholic churches on top of the ruins to demonstrate Spanish and catholic superiority.
Next stop the Inca Trail and Machu Pichu.
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