From South Korea to South America: Where It All Began

It was March 2011 and I had just signed my second contract to teach English in South Korea for another year. After a 14 hour flight I was dreading another 4 hour bus ride from Incheon airport to Gwangju, the city I was heading back to teach in but I was more prepared as this was my second go at it. Just like last year I imagined the somewhat tedious bus ride to be full of Korean nationals and me being the solo foreigner which meant another couple hours of more playlists on repeat.

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The buses in Korea are quite similar to the buses in South America (Bolivia doesn't count). Their wide, reclining seats help make for a comfortable journey and all would be wonderful if the said country decided against playing an old movie in their native language and blasting the sound through the speakers above our head. Even if we could understand the dialogue I don't know who thought that was a good idea. 

Originally, Adam and I weren't planning to include Chile in the itinerary but somehow, we ended up staying in a colorful, eccentric, bohemian old port city called Valparaiso. Graffitti is an honored art form here and every corner you turned a story was told through creative and beautiful spray paint and decor. Getting lost in that city was something you hoped for- it made for a very interesting, colorful and unique day to say the least.

Street art on an apartment in Valpariso

Our last adventure in Bolivia was the Salt Flat tour which consisted of driving in a four wheeler over desert, mountains and miles of frozen salt flats. The tour was three days of some of the most incredible landscapes I've ever seen and what made it even more special were the other four people in our jeep (and the fact that our tour guide was sober the whole time). We had met a group of travelers along the way and all decided to join forces. We spent our first night sleeping in an Salt Hotel (the fabric of the hotel is pretty much self explanatory) but to paint a clearer picture for you I asked Adam to lick the inside wall of our bedroom wall to prove it really was all salt and based on his facial reaction, the hotel was indeed made solely of solidified salt- tables, chairs, bed frame, ceiling and even the walls! Our friend accidentally spilt red wine on her sweater and 15 seconds later she was rolling around on the salty floor gathering piles to bury the stained patch in. The following morning the red wine stain was no longer and our team moved on to the next activity- watching flamingos be flamingos. Sounds boring but these pink, stoic birds all gathered together by a lagoon and the reflections of the mountain and the water created a fascinating real life painting right in front of our eyes. It was one of the most beautiful sites I've ever seen. Too bad I can't paint if my life depended on it. Fortunately I took some pretty pictures.

The beautiful red lagoon

 The tour began in Bolivia and ended by crossing over the border to Chile. So low and behold we had now added another country to the itinerary. I can assure you, neither of us were disappointed  about this. My American friend Beth who I met while teaching in Korea recently moved to Valpariso in a beautiful house on a hill overlooking the city and generously offered to put us up for some time. She lived about a 24 hour bus ride from where we got dropped off in San Pedro but instead of enduring a dreadfully long journey to the other side of Chile to meet her, we joined another three day tour that drove us much closer to Valparaiso and also stopped at view points and national parks along the way.

View from our tent

We camped on a beach, had BBQs each night and toured Valle Elqui- Pisco county. We made a pit stop at Cejar Laguna - a gorgeous little body of water in the middle of the desert that has such a high salt quantity, tourists and locals all go to float above the water just like in the Dead Sea. On our last night the tour took us star gazing at an observatory where we got to see Mars, star clusters and other galaxies through the lens of a telescope. We saw a lot more of Chile (and our Universe) than we would have if we just took an overnight bus to Valpariso. Good thing our coin landed on heads! Flipping a coin has been the main factor in our decision making and so far fate seems to lie on our side. No complaints yet!

Cejar Laguna

Horse back riding in death valley, Chile

Once we arrived to Beth's house it felt like we had re-entered the first world. Chile actually has paved roads, stop signs, toilet seats and drinkable running water! It even has McDonalds. Yup we were back in the real world and it felt (and tasted) so good! The fact that we could now brush our teeth with tap water and not always be thinking about where we can steal the next toilet paper role (okay maybe that was just me) made us feel a bit more... "normal" - not the dirty, hippy travelers we've become. After almost three months of backpacking I feel more comfortable wearing the same outfits most days and showering only when necessary. Adams face hasn't seen a razor since we arrived (neither have my legs for that matter...apologies) and I try to avoid any reflections when possible.

 It's funny actually- if I knew what I know now I probably would have packed a lot differently! I have a whole makeup case that is just taking up space in my bag, I would have replaced that with a healthy bag of drugs, ie: Imodium, peptobismol, dioralyte, Vitamin C and so on. I would have definitely included more tissues, an endless supply of hand sanitizer and probably stolen an extra blanket from Air Canada for the cold nights. The weather in South America has been so bipolar it really starts to mess with your mind. The salt flat tour is a good example of hot and sunny days yet freezing cold desert nights! I've never in my life packed for one trip where I've had to prepare for all four seasons! I guess it just adds to the ambiguity of our trip as a whole. Either way it makes for a good adventure and something to write home about.

We really enjoyed our time spent in Chile beyond what we would have reasonably expected. Beth was a wonderful host and showed us a different angle of Valpariso, where she's been living for six months. We spent time admiring this whimsical city, the graffiti filled streets, colorful houses and observed the grumpy sea lions on the beach in their natural habitat. 

A group of sea lions chilling by the water

More incredible street art

Beth and I at a brewery in Valpo near her house

We cooked a feast almost every night and were invited to a BBQ at one of Beth's students houses- all you can eat and drink. From there we went out to see a Spanish band perform at a club who basically defined South American stereotypes. The band was scheduled to play at 10pm and didn't come on stage until 130am! Fortunately we didn't arrive till midnight and had been previously warned about Latin punctuality (or lack of). Saying goodbye to Beth was bitter sweet. We don't know exactly when we´ll see each other again but we're both travelling and enjoying life at the moment so I'm sure our paths will cross again soon. 

After about a week of living like locals in Valpo, we were just starting to get comfortable (we even had our own butcher!) which is typically our cue to move on to the next- a country Adam and I have been waiting eagerly to explore. It's filled with beaches, grapes, the Atlantic Ocean, filet mignon and some very passionate football fans. Argentina, its amazing wine and beautiful landscapes have been enchanting to say the least. Our first stop was a small city in the country where we spent the day riding bicycles around vineyards in Maipu, Mendoza passing by the massive Andes and tasting some of the local produce. We started off riding in an organised, sober fashion cycling in a straight line with all the proper biking equipment. As the day progressed and the wine quickly flowed, the bike path became blurrier, our lips were stained a dark shade of red and our original, rented bikes were nowhere to be found. At the end of the day we cycled back to the rental shop a little confused and hunched over on two children's bicycles that we can only assume were swapped for ours. At least I hope that was the case. 

The glorious border crossing from Chile to Argentina...

Our original rented bikes

Maipu and the Andes behind

We came, we saw and we thoroughly drank our way through Mendoza (hopefully didn't scar any bicycle-less children in the process). Afterwards we stopped in Cordoba, a lively little Argentinian city surrounded by mountains and riddled with history - most famously known as the city closest to where Che Guarvara grew up.

Adam and Che

We spent two days touring the city and stumbled across a hidden little lake behind a patch of trees. It was like a secret gem. We felt like we struck gold and spent most of our last day tanning by the water until the sun began to set and it was time to head back.

Once again we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere with hardly any busses passing us by. So we did what we seem to do best... we hitchhiked as far south as we could get (sorry Dad) just in time to catch our long awaited final bus to the capital of Argentina, the city we've been dying to see - Buenos Aires!

"Don't cry for me Argentina"- Evita

We now have just over one week left of traveling and a lot more beaches, tango shows and steak to get through. Our "extended" honeymoon has been an amazing, eye opening adventure. An unforgettable trip of a lifetime, really. Going home will be bitter sweet but at least I won't feel guilty throwing toilet paper in the toilet or being misunderstood 90% of the time I attempt to communicate. It will be nice to eat dinner again at a reasonable hour (most restaurants don't open until 9:00pm...my grandparents would be appalled) and I won't feel on edge every time we turn a corner and hear dynamite going off in the streets. Almost every big city we've visited there has been a demonstration at least once for some reason or other. I've come to the conclusion that South Americans thrive off a good protest. 

We will spend our last few days in Uruguay where we've heard the beaches are stunning, the sunsets are like a colorful box of pastel crayons in the sky and the marijuana is legal. Enough said. So for now i'll put down my pen and paper and just enjoy the last of what this amazing continent has to offer.

Happy Holidays! From Punta Del Este beach, Uruguay

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Waiting to board the bus at Incheon airport and preparing for a long, quiet journey to Gwangju, I felt a light tap on my shoulder which prompted me to remove my earphones and see who required my attention. Following the friendly tap was a sweet, masculine British accent and now standing infront of me was a tall, slim brunette twenty something year old male foreigner who kindly offered to place my luggage under the bus. As we were the only two non Koreans about to board we decided to sit together and chat about what brought us to the South. Four hours of conversation felt like four minutes of getting to know each other and we still had another twenty odd years to get through! As the bus pulled up to the Gwangju terminal I realised I hadn't even asked for his name. "Adam Hess" he said. I took out my iPod, opened the notes section and just to ensure I remembered who it was I had been sitting next to, I typed "Adam Hess- English Bus Boy".

"100% Columbian Coffee"

So far Bolivia is almost exactly what I thought it would be like- cheap, dirty, under developed, traditional and unbelievably gorgeous. Usually those adjectives aren't used to describe something in one sentence, but Bolivia is unlike any other country I've ever been to before. It doesn't even host a single McDonalds! Adam and I have taken it upon ourselves to judge each countries economic status based on the price of their Big Macs. Unfortunately we've had to use other means in Bolivia but quickly came to the conclusion that although we may not get our Western food fix, we will definitely not burn any holes in our pocket. Hostels with private ensuite rooms are maximum $8 a night and we could get a 3 course meal for $2 each on average! 

Our first stop in this incredible country was a small border town called Copacabana off the shore of lake Titicaca (the highest lake in the world). The town itself didn't have much to offer other than broken ATM machines and a lack of toilet seats so we took an excursion and spent a full day on the island that was about an hour and a half boat ride away from Copa, called Isla Del Sol.

I find the longer we travel around South America the more my mentality and standard of living change. For example, I used to actually believe sign posts on hotels when they said FREE WIFI and HOT WATER. Now, we won't book a hotel ahead of time until we ask the concierge to walk us into the vacant room and turn on the hot water and wifi as proof- basically standing altogether in a small bathroom like idiots waiting for the water that's hitting my hand to turn warm. It's not that we don't trust them... Well, no that's pretty much exactly what it is. We had quite a horrible experience at a hostel that promised hot showers and complimentary breakfast. Turned out the water wasn't hot because there WAS NO RUNNING WATER PERIOD and the free bread roll in the morning was so tough it literally could have been used as a weapon. I'm not sure why but most public bathrooms we've been to in Bolivia so far come equipped with the toilet bowl, a flusher (if you're lucky - usually a woman stands outside the stall and then pours a bucket of water in the toilet after you're finished... Worst job ever I'd say) and the only other thing missing is a seat! I don't really understand the logic there. Could it be that they ran out of toilet funding to finish building the whole toilet? Or perhaps they thought the flat seat was unnecessary? Either way, it's a shitty situation... Literally. We've now learned through experience that if we come across a nice (decent) bathroom, one with a toilet seat at the very least, then I must force myself to use it since you never know if or when the next time will be. I've essentially taught myself how to pee on command. I'm still working on the whole Spanish thing though. 

The buses in Bolivia are nothing like the bus companies in Peru! We wouldn't complain about the light above our heads not turning on or the vents not blowing any air because most likely they are just there for decoration anyways! On a serious note, we're  lucky if our luggage is still in storage under the bus when we arrive at our destination. So far we've had two bizarre experiences with buses in Bolivia- one involving a quick exit off the bus in the middle of the night onto a motor boat that the woman who sold us our tickets "forgot to mention". We had just closed our eyes mentally preparing for a 6 hour ride and been told in Spanish to get off and on to a small boat that would take us to the other side of the lake where we would then reunite with our bus and continue driving another 4 hours. I was so confused but just relieved not to have woken up again in a Police station I suppose. Another bus ride involved waking up after 3 hours of driving to see a family of five sitting on the floor of the bus by our feet. Apparently the driver had stopped four times throughout the journey to pick up hitchhikers (even though there were no available seats) and therefore earned some extra pocket money. Each time the bus stopped to collect a random traveler on the side of the road, Adam and I would push our faces up against the glass window to make sure no one was emptying the storage compartment or having a quick shuffle through our bags. It's not that we're paranoid (ok maybe a little) but we've already heard plenty of horror stories and with lack of any security whatsoever, we have had to become a lot more aware of our surroundings. 

If you look closely you will see a man hanging out in the luggage compartment. No, he does not work for the bus company. He is a random.

Speaking of paranoia,  Adam and I have been running into a young guy from Columbia named Juan, who we originally met at a restaurant in Ecuador our first week in South America. Since then, we have seen him in four other cities around Peru and Bolivia and have formed a close relationship with him. On our last reunion in Cusco, Juan handed us a gift that he said he had brought all the way from Columbia with him and was planing to give it to someone who he felt he had bonded with over the course of his trip. When he handed Adam and I a sealed package of "100% Columbian coffee" which Juan said wasn't even sold in stores yet mine and Adams face lit up like a kid on Christmas (not like I would really know). Columbia was never on our itinerary but we had a stop over in Bogota and regretted not buying any coffee in the airport. When I excitedly mentioned to my coffee-loving-father that we were flying home with authentic Columbian ground beans, his reaction wasn't exactly what I expected. I suppose that his suggestion of opening the sealed powdered coffee bag we did NOT purchase ourselves and essentially received from a 'stranger'  in South America was probably the responsible thing to do. Well thank god for fathers! Bad news was it wasn't coffee. Good news is we had an amazing first night out in La Paz! Jokes jokes…

La Paz- which is NOT the capital of Bolivia, was a really cool city in the desert. It seemed like there was a mix of tradition meets modernity but it somehow complimented each other. The locals were friendly and there were a lot of tourists around- just like any other metropolitan city. The hotel we stayed at had a bar on the seventh floor overlooking the snow tipped mountains and bustling city life. It was a beautiful contrast. We decided to take part in the free walking tour which we knew started at the famous San Pedro prison smack in the middle of the city. An odd place for one of the most corrupt yet unique run prisons in the world. The tour guides wouldn't let us get much closer than about 200 meters from the thick outer concrete prison walls so Adam and I had another plan. After learning about the history and kept traditions in La Paz we decided to walk back towards the prison gates to take a peak into this mythical dungeon we've heard so much about.

La Paz from the seventh floor

When we arrived back to the prison doors, there seemed to be a group of about 10-15 women huddled around the front of the building. We moved in a bit closer to see what the chaos was all about, and noticed about 20 frantic prisoners pressed up against the thick steel bars yelling back and forth to the women who were on the outside, passing notes, materials, food and money through the gaps in the cells. I couldn't believe what we were witnessing and didn't really understand it either. Adam and I stayed put observing "visiting hour in San Pedro prison" or whatever the hell was going on, until one of the prisoners took notice of us (me) and tried to strike up a conversation which Adam was definitely not willing to translate for him. We then quickly got shooed away by one of the prison guards (probably for the best) and walked back to our hotel a bit confused wondering what in the world we had just witnessed. We were told later on that the women were some of the wives of the criminals who spend their days selling hand crafts made by their locked up husbands and then use the money to help them gain status within the boundaries of the prison. Basically, if you are a "well off prisoner" in San Pedro, you would then get put in the first class Wing where one pays 1000 bolivianos per month (approx 150 dollars) to enjoy a massive cell with a king sized bed, flat screen tv, private ensuite bathroom and wifi which the hotel at the corner opposite the prison generously provides... Sounds nicer than some of the hostels we've been staying at, right! Those lucky few prisoners are able to Skype their families from their own cell and essentially walk around like they own the place. Not too shabby.

Behind San Pedro Prison

We arrived back to our hotel that night just in time for Shabbat dinner! A nice snap back to reality for us. A few days prior to this we bumped into an Israeli couple who invited us to the Chabad in La Paz since we were planning to be there over the Sabbath. We graciously accepted (mainly for the home cooked meal and free wine) but nevertheless it was a neat experience enjoying a warm, kosher meal in another continent then our own. We went to sleep that night content and pleasantly stuffed yet consciously aware that a criminal down the road in San Pedro prison was probably just a little more comfortable in bed then we were. 

Luckily we were heading off to the city of Cochabamba where Adams friend offered to put us up in his amazing flat for the next four days and in a very comfortable double bed. Alex and his girlfriend were gracious hosts and basically gave us a walking food tour of the cities amazing cuisine and where they've been living together for the past 10 months. We toured the markets, said hi to Jesus (a larger statue than the one in Rio on top of a mountain) and tried Cows Heart on a skewer. We basically ate our way through Cochabamba and thoroughly enjoyed living like locals with familiar faces in a foreign country. What a treat!

Adam and Alex eating a feast at the food market in Cochabamba

Next stop on the itinerary was the capital of Bolivia called Sucre. Most people confuse the capital with La Paz as this is where all the official government and Parliament buildings lie. During World War 2, we were told that even Hitler himself was confused by this, writing a telegraph to the President of Bolivia warning that Germany was going to Bomb La Paz. Mr. President wrote back in a sort of panic, not really trying to deter the situation but politely explaining that actually, Hitler was mistaken, Sucre is the capital of Bolivia... Go for them!!

We arrived in Sucre just in time to celebrate Adams 28th birthday. We had been meeting the same group of people throughout our travels and all arranged to meet in Sucre for a party the following weekend. While Adam met up with some of the Irish boys at a pub in the afternoon, the girls and I went on a secret mission to buy a cake, decorations and of course, a piñata. When in Rome, right? I took Adam to a nice steak house for dinner that night and while we were eating, some kind guests in the hostel helped decorate the lounge with balloons, streamers and party favours. When we arrived back, Adam was shocked to see that essentially these strangers and new friends came together to throw him a surprise party... In Bolivia!

We were really touched that the travellers who we had only met a few times, some only a few hours, took the time to help make Adams birthday a little more special. Unfortunately I don't remember much after leaving the hostel and heading to the club, probably because we had a little more of the "Columbian ground coffee"  left over that needed finishing. My fathers biggest worry was us carrying it over the border back to Canada. So dad I can assure you, it's all finished. You have nothing to worry about.

Signing off,

Gillian & Adam xx

Everybody´s Got A Story...

So we finally made it to the place we (I) have been waiting to get to since we first took off for South America. It was huge, beautiful, delicately tranquil and more spectacular than I could have ever imagined. The beautiful king sized bed and jacuzzi in our amazing boutique hotel room that Adam and I got as a wedding gift really hit the spot! At this point we had been travelling for about three and a half weeks already, staying mostly in hostels with limited wifi, hot water and wirey mattresses. When we finally arrived in Aguas Callientas, the small town closest to Machu Picchu, it was an indescribable feeling being welcomed into an actual hotel (with an elevator) by friendly English speaking staff, a refreshing eucalyptus soaked towel, unlimited tea in reception and a room with a beautiful view of the mountains! We were in heaven and the next day we were planning to climb the big green mountain. Life was good. 

View from our balcony

We took as much out of the amazing room as we could (literally- we took a clean towel, slippers and the complimentary soap for our travels- haha suckers) and then woke up at 430am to begin our "trek" to the mountain. I put trek in quotations because there were many different hikes to choose from in order to get to Machu Pichu by foot. Some included a 3 day jungle trek where you camp out in the wilderness slowly making your way to the mountain or the Inka trail which included a 46 km hike altogether plus the intense trek upwards. Adam and I... Well... We did none of the above. We happily boarded the nice air conditioned train which brought us as close to Machu pichu as possible then hopped on the first bus at 530am which lead us to the entrance of the mountain. It was lovely and I don't regret any of it. Actually, I'd happily do it all over again. Side note: Adam has just read over this paragraph and said if it were up to him, he'd rename this blog: "Travels With A Jewish Princess". Ill take it as a compliment. 

Arriving so early in the morning was truly a sight to see. We were able to witness the thick fog slowly evaporate, revealing the most beautiful multitude of mountains we've both ever seen. It really was magical.

The fog beginning to subside

Beginning the climb up was a little overwhelming but we kept a solid pace and stopped every so often to take in the majestic view.

It took us about an hour and a half to reach the top of the mountain and just under that to get back down. I don't think either of us will ever forget the iconic beauty of Machu Pichu and it's incredible wide scale surroundings. 

Our plan after that was to make our way back to Cusco which is the closest big city to the mountain and a well known hub for tourists. Our train to Cusco stopped at a small village called Ollantaytambo where more Inka ruins lay. We thought perhaps we would just pass through this small historical town and then continue on that night to the city. When we got off the train basically every person and their dog who lived in this village was out in the town square singing, drinking, dancing (and peeing) in the streets. There was a local band performing on a makeshift stage and we soon found out that we had just arrived in time to celebrate the annual village festival. This quickly helped make our decision a lot easier. Of course we were going to stay! The music that night didnt stop until about 3am and instead of passing out early (which was probably much needed after our hike) we decided to join the party. If you can't beat them, join them, right?

Village festival in the town center of Ollantaytambo

The next morning the small village of Ollantaytambo was basically unrecognisable. The locals way of cleaning the streets which late night party goers had littered with beer cans, plastic forks, paper plates and chicken bones was an easy fix. Just grab all the hoses you can find and literally flood the streets with running water. Once the garbage began to clear (or float down towards the open sewers) we were able to safely walk around this unique little village we had randomly stumbled across. There was something very special about this town that Adam and I both felt we needed more time to explore. It felt like a very close knit community but as outsiders we were surprisingly made to feel extremely welcome. For example, on Sundays the entire village gets together and plays a massive game of volleyball in the town square. I mean, really? Amazing. The surrounding mountains made this town feel even more secluded.

View of Ollantaytambo from above

The food was so fresh, the people were genuine and the locals were always smiling. Adam and I were NOT leaving - at least not until we figured out their secret. We tasted Alpaca for the first time (same animal family as a Llama) and drank the local juice called Chicha Blanca in the very traditional way. Someone told us that if you walk by a house with a red plastic bag wrapped around a wooden stick popping out of the roof, then you are able to welcome yourself into this home, sit in their backyard and typically wait for the wife to present you with a cup of Chicha Blanca. We wouldn't have been able to do this if Adam didnt speak Spanish and although I was a bit hesitant, we found the stick, the red plastic bag and an old Peruvian woman stirring some liquid in what resembled a witches brew. Yup, this was definitely the place (or at least we hoped). Her smile was a good enough invitation and so Adam and I walked around the back of this strangers house and joined a group of about six local men and woman chatting and drinking this mysterious alcoholic beverage. The drink itself was nothing like I've ever tasted. We're pretty sure it's made of fermented corn, milk, sugar and maybe beer but can't be sure. It was a light yellow colour and as thick as a Guinness. We felt rude not finishing our cup so we sat and slowly drank (one gulp at a time) talked with these friendly old men and woman for a good hour (well Adam did most of the talking I was a good observer) until our bloated belly's couldn't take any more. Lets just say that the experience itself was much better than the drink... 

Later on that day as we were walking aimlessly around the village, tasting street food and mingling with the locals, we came across a group of foreigners who had a stand set up trying to promote their volunteer group. We listened while they explained the basis of their organisation and were truly touched by their genuine compassion and dedication towards the local community. This NGO called 'My Small Help' or "Mi Pequena Ayuda" started about seven years ago after it was sadly discovered that being born with or developing a mental or physical disability in most of South America is seen as an embarrassment especially in many traditional communities. Because of this horrible stigma, many parents don't send their disabled children to school for fear of them being ridiculed, abused or others who simply cant afford to. My Small Help raises money to rent a bus, pick up these children in and around the village and bring them to school together as a group making sure they get a proper education in a safe learning environment. Not just that but they form close relationships with the kids and their families, some which are living in poverty so on weekends they do house visits and bring them food, clean water or colouring books, pens and pencils for the children. Sometimes they just go to spend some quality time with the families or in particular an older woman named Natti who was unfortunately riddled with polio as a child. Now, she cannot use her legs and since she can't afford a proper wheel chair she uses her arms to drag her limp lower body around the very small hut she calls home. Adam and I were invited to join the volunteer group and spend a few hours with Natti in her 6 by 8ft house. The group went to pick up some cheese, bread, fruits and veggies for Natti who was so touched that she started to cry. This woman really didn't have much but kept offering us boiled corn and potatoes to eat and would NOT take no as an answer.

Our crew with Natti inside her house

Her "stove" was essentially an open fire pit inside, next to her mattress with a small hole in the roof to let the thick smoke rise and eventually drain out. However since her house is so unbelievably tiny (only about 4 people can be inside at once only by sitting on the floor) you can imagine how quickly the smoke builds up and fills her home with bitter fumes every time she wants to cook dinner. I couldn't help but think why and how this woman was so content and so positive. She has gone through so much in her life, is in daily physical pain from paralysis, has almost no family left and is partially deaf. She can't walk or participate in mundane activities like buying fresh fruit at the market or even just doing her laundry but Natti, this beautiful, happy 75 year old woman was smiling almost the whole time we were there. She was an absolute pleasure to meet even just for an hour or two. We weren't always able to verbally communicate with each other but sometimes the power of non verbal communication is that much more powerful. She is truly an inspiration for us all and has a heart of gold. That night Adam and I fell asleep quite easily - maybe because of the suspicious "Chicha Blanca" beverage or maybe because we hadn't had a decent nights sleep in two days now but being in the presence of another human being who is so genuinely at peace makes life and it's challenges a lot more... simple. 

Adam & I also offered to distribute their posters around the village

We had now been stationary in Ollantaytambo for two nights already when originally we were just going to use this town as transit to Cusco. On day three we decided to hire a driver for the day to take us around the Sacred Valley visiting a few different Inka ruins. The woman who worked at our hostel recommended a way to visit these tourist sites for "free" but we would need to trust her because driving around the back way involved some dangerous obstacles. Adam and I thought about just being normal tourists and paying our way through the sites but then decided, nah, lets do it the local way (sorry Dad). We hired a cab driver and paid him $20 to bring us around for most of the afternoon to two unique sites through the back route.

The "Bridge"

We drove an hour up a mountain, over a very wiggly wooden bridge, through an unpaved road in a forest and over old train tracks until we arrived at a barbed wire fence. 'Senior cabby' explained that he would wait for us while we slipped through an open crack in the fence to the first site called Moray. It was definitely as sketchy as it sounds. Moray however was a fascinating, Inka agricultural site which hosted three massive amphitheatre like structures built into the ground. Their deep, round shape and staggered steps were used to contain diverse levels of heat in order to plant various crops. It was a pretty impressive man made structure but in the back of our minds we knew our trusty taxi driver was waiting patiently for us just outside the wired fence and so off we went to the next (free) tourist trap. 

Moray

Our final destination for the day and where we said goodbye to cab man was just outside these very large salt mines called Las Salinas. The mines extended over a distance of about 900 meters and walking across them basically involved a careful balancing act (one foot Infront of the other) to make it safely to the end of the flats. Luckily, we got to see locals working in the mines that day, collating and gathering salt for everyday purposes. 

 

A local man workin in the mines

After walking through the layered salt mines, back over a shaky bridge and past another small market village I felt a bit uneasy trying to imagine how we were going to arrive back to Ollantaytambo before sunset. We were now too far to walk back to where we started and our driver was probably already home with his family cooking a Sunday roast with the money we had paid him for the day. Twenty bucks can go a LONG way in Peru! Adam was likely fed up with my constant worrisome attitude but he was confident we would find another taxi to bring us back to our home away from home. Once we arrived to a main street we (Adam) knew which direction we needed to go and decided to wait on the side of the road for a bus to pick us up. There are no real "bus stops" in this town but Adam kept assuring me that if we just waited patiently, some form of transportation - car, bus or horse even, would pick us up. After about 20 minutes of sitting on a street curb kicking pebbles and seeing how far down the road they would land (no cars were passing us by at this point) finally a small packed mini van with 6 seats, 9 people and no seat belts stopped to retrieve us from the dirt road. At first I thought this was surely a joke because if we were to get in the van the only place to sit was the small gap left on the floor next to the sliding door but apparently any space in a vehicle in Peru is sufficient. The drivers attitude was basically take it or leave it and without any other feasible option we hopped in the cramped mini van and headed back. After about 3 minutes of gathering our bearings and squeezing into the small space on the floor above the vans back right wheel leaning awkwardly against the shaky car door, we noticed that we were in the company of Spiderman, Batman, a witch and the devil......naturally. It happened to be halloween that night and we were just going to make it back to Ollantaytambo in time to flip a coin and decide our fate for the evening. Heads told us we were staying just one more night in this unforgiving village but secretly I think both Adam and I were a bit relieved with the outcome.

Celebrating Halloween at the Sacred Valley Brewing Company

We were invited by new friends from the volunteer group to join them at a brewery in the Sacred Valley that was hosting a Halloween party, also to celebrate their opening night. 

The brewery was filled with other foreigners, ex pats and locals - all who were stationary around the valley. We ended up having a great night and meeting many more travellers who ALL had a different story. It was Halloween, Adam and I were dressed up in panda hats at a micro brewery in the middle of the Sacred Valley drinking Peruvian beer and dancing to local, traditional tunes.This... this was OUR story and it was really just the beginning.

Sand, Siu Mai and Sun Gods

So Adam and I have quickly concluded that we cannot go more than 3 weeks without ... Dim Sum. After an 18 hour bus ride from Mancora we arrived safe and sound in Lima, checked into our hostel and immediately sought out probably the one and only dim sum restaurant in the city. Okay so it was distinctly below average but we did NOT have high expectations, just needed our fix really! 

Adams Spanish has improved tremendously! Mine... not so much. The only times he speaks English are when he's talking to me or translating for me. What really impressed me was that Adam was able to successfully argue with the manager of a bus company to get money back on our tickets because the light above us didn't work and the earphones were broken. The manager did not speak a word of English so Adam had to first explain why we were unhappy with the service and what we wanted them to do about it. We ended up receiving 35% off our next bus ride which was fine by us! It also proved to be a real stepping stone for Adam and his Spanish vocabulary. This reminded me of the time in Korea when I was successfully able to order a pizza by myself to my own apartment. Language barriers are called barriers for a reason - they really restrict you from being able to accomplish simple tasks that we wouldn't even consider an inconvenience in our everyday life. 

The outskirts of Lima are a bit dodgy so we stayed in a nice area called Mira Flores where we ended up meeting our friend Michael again (same one who invited us to spend the day at his resort). The route we're taking down South America is pretty standard which means we also keep running into the same people more or less. We met Micahel at a Perivian Japanese fusion restaurant our first night there which was delicious and then investigated first hand what Peruvian city night life was all about.

We're always interested in an authentic foreign experience wherever we go but somehow we ended the night in typical North American fashion- with 2 Big Macs, fries and a coke. How is it that McDonalds fries taste the exact same in every country in the world? 

We toured Lima during the day, explored the catacombs, the famous "Love Park" and ate more Cerviche.

Walking underground through the catacombs

Altogether we spent 3 days in the city then left for a desert oasis just outside of a town called Ica. These sand dunes were nothing like we've ever seen before in our lives! The landscape was absolutely breathtaking! Waking up everyday to sun and sand, climbing massive dunes, going sand boarding and then swimming in the afternoon when the heat became close to unbearable, was a typical day in Huacachina.

The sand was so soft and the stars at night were so clear. Watching the sun setting behind the dunes was almost surreal.

Mind you, the hostel we stayed at was a hole in the wall... there was actually a massive whole in the wall of our bathroom haha this place was still magical. 

The hole in our bathroom wall above the toilet...

After we had enough sand in basically every crevice of our bodies, we decided it was time to see the Nasca "Lions"- or at least that's what I thought I had heard my British husband say. Yes there are still times and will probably always be times where his accent disguises words and so sentences become tangled and sometimes lost in "pronunciation".

 Wondering how close we would actually get to these "lions" and thinking about the fact that there are no real enforced health and safety laws in South America, honestly scared me a little. By the time I realised Adam had actually said "lines" not "lions" we were already on a cramped city bus heading to the observation tower. 

I had never heard about these mysterious "lines"  before but now I had 25 minutes left on this bus ride to read that section of the Lonely Planet. Turns out, these Nasca lines were miraculously created about a thousand years ago and intensely studied by some German women who is now worshiped on the same level as the Virgin Marie. Some theories are that the lines were used to pray for rain since they are all connected to aquatic symbols (frog, whale, etc). Others believe they are a representation of shamans dreams brought on by hallucinogenic drugs. Either way we will never know who and for what reason these gigantic, ancient lines exist. 

It's common for tourists to take a short flight in a small dodgy plane to view the lines from a better angle but that was a bit over our budget so we opted for the stationary view point that was standing in the middle of the highway where the bus had dropped us off. When we first arrived to Nasca there were cab drivers outside trying to bargain a round trip cost with us to bring us to the lines and back. When we politely declined the offer, the drivers were adamant that the lines were far out in the countryside and buses wouldn't stop to drive us back to the city. Adam and I both were skeptical thinking they just wanted our money so we took the risk and made our own way there (for $1 each). So after about 15 minutes standing on the top of a shaky, unsecured steel tower looking at lines in fields, we were ready to head back but soon realised maybe the pushy cab drivers were right. The only buses we saw were passing by the opposite direction once every 30 minutes. To give you a clearer picture of how out in the middle of no where we were, we probably could have played a game of rummy in the middle of the road until any sort of vehicle was visible. 

Suddenly, a group of 70-80 year old French tourists arrived at the observation tower where we were patiently waiting and it wasn't long until Adam made conversation (in French of course) with these lovely old grannies. When they heard we were on our honeymoon they took an instant like to us and just 10 minutes later we sat squished between a retired French banker and an older French tour guide in their nice air conditioned bus heading back to the city of Nasca. They graciously offered us a ride and obviously we accepted! We were by far at least 40 years their junior and probably reminded them of their grandchildren but it was a kind gesture and a hilarious story. 

We only spent the afternoon in this small town and then hopped on a night bus to a city called Arequipa, known as the "white city" of South America. We slept for most of the 11 hour drive and arrived to a beautiful city surrounded by mountains, canyons and volcanoes.

Arequipa

We only decided last minute to check out Arequipa mainly to break up the trip to Cusco. Nasca to Cusco would have taken just under 20 hours in a bus and we were in no such rush. The buses so far have been quite comfortable- wifi, cup holders, big seats that recline 160 degrees and if we choose to go first class we get a meal and a tv on the back of the seat infront of us! Much better than I ever would have expected for a developing country. Our first experience on a bus in South America however was anything BUT comfortable! After 3 stop overs and 14 hours of flying we were ready to get to our first hotel in Ecuador! We got our bus ticket just outside the airport in Guayaquil and what was supposed to be a short 2 hour bus ride ended up being close to 4! Two men sitting behind Adam and I ended up arguing which then turned into a physical altercation and the bus driver actually had to pull over to resolve the situation. Once everyone seemed to have dealt with whatever happened we were on our way again... But not to our hotel, to the police station!

Three cops suddenly entered the bus and began screaming at people to exit the vehicle. They then separated men and women to line up on either side of the bus for full on body pat downs- checking for weapons I can only assume.

Keep in mind we had only just been in South America now for maybe 2 hours and we had already seen the inside of a Police Station! Not the best first impression, obviously. On the plus side, the views from the buses are pretty spectacular, passing by farmland, snow tipped mountains and small Inka villages. 

View from the bus

The city of Arequipa was originally an Inka city so we were able to see many locals dressed in traditional colorful gowns. Inka´s were one of the earliest civilizations in South America and worship the sun as God. We really fell in love with this town! The locals were friendly, the city had so much history and the landscape was beautiful.

Arequipa town center

We did the free walking tour which was really informative and explored the massive food market which was unlike any other market I've ever been too. A delicacy in this part of South America is Guiney Pig and so you could probably imagine some of the raw carcuses we saw walking down the meat aisle. We managed to buy 8 eggs for $1, a loaf of bread for 25 cents and the biggest and freshest avocados for less than a buck! We also bought some sausages but didn't ask what kind of meat it was. Probably for the best.

We went to sleep quite early that night as our tour of the canyons began at 3am!! The bus picked us up well before sunrise and we drove about 2.5 hours to what is the second deepest canyon in the world. The mountainous landscape felt never ending and we got to see these large, mystical birds called Condors which we learned can live up to 80 years old and are monogamous, similar to humans.

Two Condors in the mountains

However, once their partner passes away the other bird will fly to the highest mountain and drop straight down, committing suicide. It's almost Romeo and Juliet but minus the feathery wings and the dramatic ancestral English.

We met a few tourists out there who planned to hike down the canyon and trek for 4 days. Adam and I briefly considered joining them... That was until we heard about a natural hot spring close by and decided that was probably more up our alley. 

Natural Hot Spring outside Arequipa

Relaxed, content and sweaty, we left the hot spring feeling completely rejuvenated and ready to move on to the next adventure... Machu Picchu. 

Write more soon about that big green mountain...

Signing off,

Gillian & Adam xx