A bit about buses and the beginning of our Peruvian adventure

Well I am writing this sitting in the lounge of Caroline Lodging in Huaraz, Peru. Huaraz is the closest village to the Cordillera Blancas range in Peru – with many mountains closeby over 6000m.
We arrived this morning at 7am from Trujillo. When we boarded the bus last night, both Geoffrey and I struggled to contain our joy at the fact that the bus was much far flasher than anything either of us had experienced in Peru or Ecuador previously. Ecuadorian buses were incredibly cheap but were often crammed with locals and the seating lacked a ‘recline’ function. They also didn’t really have the option of night buses. The one night bus we did take to cross the Ecuadorian/Peruvian border was pretty hellish. We were in the front two seats and our legs were kind of jammed up against the front. Not ideal when one is attempting to sleep. So anyway, we embarked the flash bus to find soft blankets on our chairs and a serious recline option. There was even an air-hostess type of chica, let’s call her a bus hostess, who made an announcement when the bus began rolling on out of Trujillo. I think I might have actually squealed when the movie started and it had English subtitles! As anyone who has been to South America will understand, every single bus plays well-known American movies in extremely loud, badly dubbed, Espanol. And it is very rare for them to cater for the one or two gringos on the bus by selecting the Ingles subtitle function. It was a pretty crap movie (Sweet November with Charlize Theron and Keanu Reeves) but I was just happy to have a distraction other than playing my ipod over and over again.

So anyway, I was happy as larry staring up at the screen and ignoring Geoffrey’s attempts at conversation and criticisms of the sappiness of the movie. We even got served a snack about half an hour into the journey – a little bun with tuna spread and a melting moment (or yoyo) shortbread thing. Yum! You gotta love free food. Anyway, both of us managed to get a pretty decent amount of sleep and so when we arrived in Huaraz this morning we weren’t feeling as bad as was possible. The only problem was that I woke up at about 5am extremely short of breath. As I have mentioned earlier in the blog, I have been having trouble at altitude. My GP prescribed me an inhaler last winter as I was experiencing similar symptoms in Melbourne. Apparently I was displaying the symptoms of adult asthma. I went to buy some more seretide today actually but Geoffrey talked me into waiting a day to see how I feel as the inhaler was about $40 (not cheap for Peru!). So anyway, woke up in the middle of the night panting, it is a really horrible feeling – feeling like you are not obtaining enough oxygen in each breathe you take. I fell back asleep but had dreams in which I wasn’t able to breathe and I met a man who told me I had to take it easy for a few days and acclimatise (probably quite sound advice even from a dream character!).

We managed to find a taxi easily enough to the hostel after disembarking the bus, he was a really friendly local asking us where we were from and telling us about Quichuan (the indigenous language of the Andes region – both in Ecuador and Peru). We arrived at the hostel to be greeted by Teo and Caroline (father and daughter) who showed us our room. It was pretty dark and dingey but for $12 a night for both of us including a buffet breakfast every morning we weren’t complaining. We fell straight asleep, slept through the alarm and woke up at 11am!

After a shower for me (Geoffrey couldn’t be bothered to my dismay – imagine not showing after a night bus! Eek) we set off to explore Huaraz. Our little expedition did not start out very promising as we realised we had forgotten the Lonely Planet which had all of the information about where we wanted to go. I must admit I did take it out on Geoffrey somewhat, poor thing. I felt a tad cranky after a long journey and rapid ascent to 3100m. We set out for Cial, a bus company, to buy our tickets to Lima for the 25th (we nearly didn’t make it here after our first choice of bus company was completely booked out). We had to check out of our room, jump into a cab from Huanchaco to Trujillo, run into the bus company, buy two of the last 4 or 5 tickets left and then taxi back to Huanchaco. So, in order to avoid that, we decided to spend today chilling out and acclimatising and sorting out administrative tasks like buying our bus ticket and planning the tours we were going to take for the next few days.

It turned out that Cial did not have an afternoon bus so we set out for Movil Tours, the super flash bus company that brought us to Huaraz. After a few teeny arguments regarding directions, we finally stumbled across Movil Tours after following the directions of an uncharacteristically friendly guard. Tickets purchased, we started to walk back to the hostel when it started to rain.

Up until this point, I had been wearing a singlet and long pants but as soon as the rain started it became very cold. We sought shelter under an awning and decided to use the internet while we waited out the shower. The weather here looks like it will be very inconsistent. The town is in somewhat of a valley next to a couple of glacial rivers. It is very pretty, you can see a lot of mountain peaks close by. The town itself is not very pretty however, following the general theme we have discovered so far in Peru regarding construction – houses here are either slum-like shacks or badly built structures with wires and construction materials poking out everywhere. It seems that they build one level at a time but half build the next level. I am sitting on a terrace at the moment and nearly every surrounding building has the beginnings of another level on its roof.

The people here are much like the indigenous people in the Andean regions of Ecuador. The only difference, funnily enough, being in the hats that they wear. They are essentially the same style as the Ecuadorian pork-pie or trilby hats except they have wider brims and higher tops. The women’s hats also have designs on the side whereas in Ecuador it was not uncommon to see a feather. Here, a common design seems to be a bow-tie ribbon that is layered over and over and kind of julienned.

During our breakfast this morning (not at the hostel as we slept through, at a place on the way to bus terminals – mine included what was described as bircher muesli and which was in actual fact fruit salad, yoghurt, chocolate sauce and corn puffs – yuck! That is the last time I am making the mistake of ordering bircher muesli in Peru...) we had a couple of old indigenous ladies come up to us begging for change. Geoffrey is a bit tougher than I am so we kind of sat there in awkward silence with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs in front of us while this poor old lady stood there pleading with us. I felt like a stupid gluttonous rich Westerner actually, it wasn’t very pleasant. Perhaps next time I will just give them a coin or two.

Sorry as usual I am veering off on tangents left, right and centre. So after sheltering in the internet cafe, we set out for Andino Cafe – a cafe I had found on the Lonely Planet’s website that promised a ‘groovy’ hang out spot with home-roasted coffee (something that is EXTREMELY rare in South America) a big book exchange and board games. When we arrived I was stoked, it was an awesome space to hang out in with a really nice third floor terrace overlooking the street. We grabbed Monopoly and ordered half a litre of French-pressed cafe (para Geoffrey) and half a litre of Chai (para me) and a slice of banana bread each. It sounds stupid but you really do appreciate the ‘gringo’ places when you do stumble across them. It is nice to know what you’re getting and to order something that is similar to what you could get at home. So the afternoon passed very pleasantly even if Geoffrey did ‘whoop’ my ass in Monopoly. Which I was a bit annoyed about, after all Monopoly is one of my favourites! He stealthily pursued all of the railroads which meant I had to pay him $200 a pop everytime i landed on one (which happened frequently).

On our way back to the hostel we stopped at another cafe so I could look at their book exchange selection (I am obsessed – I check every book exchange – not being able to buy novels in English here is pretty rough) and we saw a flyer for a cinema that was playing The Hurt Locker that night. Apparently it won 6 Oscars including best film? Shows how long I’ve been out of the loop...

So, at 8pm we headed to the cinema. They bought out popcorn in paper cones (included in the 5 sole price – about $1.50) and we bought (Geoffrey bought) a few beers and we settled in to watch the movie. It wasn’t exactly light-hearted but it was a perfect way to finish an awesome first day in Huaraz. Day two – the Chavin ruins (3000 year old ruins 3.5 hours from Huaraz). More on that later!

Montanita part 2

Well, while I lose momentum I had better start with the second half of my Montanita story.

Firstly, let me just say that I am sitting on the deck of my hostel (Izchayluma - it is AMAZING, if you ever come here you must stay at this hostel) in Vilcabamba. Lonely Planet was not lying when it said the restaurant deck has the best views in town. We are staying in a gorgeous cabin-esque room with outdoor-style shower made out of stones all for $14 a night (including buffet breakfast). 'We' is Geoffrey and I. I will explain later in this post...

So, where was I?

That's right, I decided to stay in Montanita longer than expected. I can't really explain why but I just felt a really strong urge to stay, or more likely, a strong dread at the thought of leaving.

So, after making my decision, I decided to go out for dinner with all of the other students. As I had been having private classes and when I wasn't at class I was hanging out with Bree, I had kind of stuck to myself somewhat. But as I had decided to stay another week, I thought it was time to start being a bit more social. Bree had also left so it was a good opportunity for me to get off my antisocial ass and get to know some of the other students.

At dinner I was next to and opposite two Swedes called Cecelia and Bjorn. As most of you know, I have a slight obsession for all things Swedish so had a good chat to them both about living in Stockholm and about Swedish bands that I like. I had also noticed another guy hanging around with them who looked very Scandinavian and kind of kept to himself (even though Cecelia came right up and sat down next to me and introduced herself while I was waiting for my teacher one day) so I assumed he was another timid Scandinavian or Northern European. However, on the way from the restaurant to the bar I started chatting to him. Which, as an aside, wasn't exactly a bar. More like a shack on Montanita's infamous 'cocktail alley'. Which is exactly what it sounds like.

So anyway, turns out he is from Portland, Oregon and, like me, is a bit of a Swedophile. He met Cecelia the year before traveling in Nepal and they had decided to meet up again in South America. We got on really well immeditely, talking about music, books, travel, politics and much more. Geoffrey is one of the couple of Northern Americans I have encountered on this trip who are rather apathetic towards their home country, especially concerning politics. He actually spends 6 months of every year traveling - spending the other 6 months working in Northern California as a 'bombero de montana' or mountain fire fighter.

So I was pleased to find out that the next week Bjorn and Geoffrey and I would all be in the same class. The week generally progressed like this: 7:30 wake up; 8:00am class - fight over who would make coffee; 10am go to Tiki Limbo (local cafe that randomly played the Black Seeds, Fat Freddy's Drop and Katchafire every single morning despite the fact that I couldn't spot a single kiwi in the place) for Huevos Rancheros, freshly squeezed watermelon juice and coffee; 11am chill poolside; 12:50pm go to one of the juice vendors on the street and order a smoothie or a juice; 1pm class; 3pm internet or chill poolside; 5-7pm surfing under the sunset; 8pm dinner at one of the many awesome restaurants in Montanita; 9:30pm pina colada on cocktail alley. Let's just say it was a very relaxed and happy existence.

Needless to say Bjorn, Geoffrey and I soon became a bit of a trio - spending nearly all of our time together - in and out of class. Bjorn was the class clown, causing me to errupt into hysterical laughter many times during class - usually as a result of being rather sleep deprived due to the party atmosphere of Montanita. The all-female teaching faculty soon became smitten with him and started referring to him as El Oso (the Bear - which is the direct translation of Bjorn). This progressed to El Oso Peligroso (the Dangerous Bear), El Oso Perizoso (the Lazy Bear) and El Oso Mentizoso (the Lying Bear).

However I suspect we also obtained a slight reputation for being snobby. Sometimes we preferred to hang out just us three (and occassionaly Grant - an amiable Aussie guy who started tagging along on our daily breakfasts and dinners) than in the big mob of students that went out together every night. I also suspect that some of the teachers began to dislike me for this reason and also because both Bjorn and Geoffrey received an extreme amount of attention from all of the local gringo-hunters (I will explain this term later...) and I was constantly with both of them. One of my teachers even was quite openly rude to me (in my private class the next week) and would often question me about my relationship with both of them during class.

Probably my only negative comment about Montanita is the 'gringo-hunter' culture. Walking around the village both the boys and I would receive numerous looks and wolf-whistles from the local guys and girls. The local guys were mainly surfers and I think it is safe to assume that they live a pretty blissful existence for guys in their late teens and 20s - surfing during the day and picking up different Western girls every weekend. The girls weren't much better I'm afraid, with many openly coming on to Bjorn and Geoffrey in very public situations. It probably didn't help that both Bjorn and Geoffrey look fair and Scandinavian (Geoffrey's Mum is Norwegian), very exotic! Especially compared to me who could nearly pass for South American...

I was meant to leave at the end of the second week but early on in the week Geoffrey, Bjorn and I all decided to stay on as we wanted to continue with our Spanish and we were all having so much fun. The third week continued much as the second had, except for the fact that Geoffrey and I opted for private classes instead of group. I much preferred group classes due to one of my teachers being extremely unprofessional as described above and group classes were obviously much more fun and involved a lot more hysterical bouts of laughter (usually at Bjorn's expense).

I also made another decision - to continue to go South instead of North to Colombia. Geoffrey was off to Peru and the advantages of traveling with a companion outweighed my desire to go to Colombia. I also really wanted to go to Vilcabamba in Southern Ecuador. Coincidentally Bjorn was also meant to go to Colombia before meeting up with Geoffrey in Peru, however he decided to go to Galapogos as he didn't have enough time to fit in enough of Colombia. So the trio will be reunited in some rather extreme circumstances - Bjorn told Geoffrey and I about this Shamanic Healing Centre in Iquitos, Peru. It is the biggest city in the world inaccessible by road and is right in the jungle in the East of Peru. So, on April 3 Geoffrey and I are flying in to Iquitos and meeting Bjorn at the Shamanic Healing Centre for a few days for a spiritual journey of sorts. Watch this space... hopefully I don't turn into a South American hippie selling jewellery on the side of the road.

So, with an extremely heavy heart and an EXTREMELY sore head (due to blowing out somewhat on our last night in Montanita... it had to be done) we boarded the 10am bus for Guayaquil (Ecuador's biggest city) and farewelled our beloved Montanita. I managed to talk Geoffrey into going to Quito with me to pick up my bags (as I had originally only meant to leave Quito for 1.5 weeks but it ended up being 3.5 weeks... I only had a small backpack with me the entire time - I had to buy two dresses in Montanita as I became so sick of my limited wardrobe!).

Quito was pretty crap and very depressing after coming from Montantia. Although it was much nicer traveling with a male companion - I didn't get the usual whistles and threatening comments as I had on my previous two visits. We ended up staying two nights as we were so exhausted from the long bus journey and then we set off for Vilcabamba! But I will save that for another blog as this one is getting mighty long...

Until next time dear readers. Sorry for the haphazard nature of this blog (although you should be used to this by now...).

Montanita...

Firstly, I must apogolise for my extremely long absence!

I have been holed up in the small surf town of Montanita, on the east coast of Ecuador.

Although it is somewhat touristy, Montanita stole my heart. For 3 weeks at least...

I’m not sure exactly why, but Montanita really saved Ecuador for me. As is obvious from my posts to date, Ecuador has been somewhat of an emotional rollercoaster and many places I have visited here I have not exactly become enamoured with. My health has been crap, I failed to meet many people I connected with, I kept finding myself in extremely isolated spots sin any English speaking people, I fell out with my travel buddy etc etc...

There are many differences between Montanita and the other places I have visited in Ecuador, however the initial most obvious difference was of course in climate. Although Ecuador is situated on the equator, most of its major cities are located in the Andes. And while I enjoyed the mild temperatures of the mountain regions after the humidity of Rio, it was extremely pleasant to find myself back in a balmy climate. After all, the weather can have a vast effect on one’s mood.

We (Bree and I – the story of meeting Bree will have to wait for another post) arrived at night and set out looking for the Cabanas with which I had a reservation through the school. Expectations were not high as I didn’t really know much about the place and it was pretty cheap. However, as we were walking down the dirt road the Cabanas were apparently on, I noticed an establishment to the right with hammocks, a Jacuzzi, big pool and lots of young people playing around in the pool and drinking cerveza. We decided it was far too nice to be the school Cabanas and kept on walking. However, we realised we had gone too far and turned back and what do you know, the resort-esque place we had passed was the one! A good start to my time in Montanita...

The next day, I set off for school at about 7:45am and had my first lesson at 8am. I was very happy to be served a little fruit salad and freshly squeezed melon juice during my first class with Jenny, my teacher whose English was EXTREMELY basic. I quickly realised that I loved the routine of actually having something to get up in the morning for every day and getting back into learning something. I also had my first surfing lesson that day which I immediately loved. Getting out into the ocean for two hours every day soon became the highlight of my day, even if some days I failed to stand up much...

Another reason why Montanita will always hold a special place in my heart is it was the first time on my journey when romance really made an appearance. During my second surfing lesson, the instructor Isidro (a champion surfer and the town’s hero) invited me to watch a movie with him that night. As his English isn’t great and it was a bit of an awkard conversation anyway (I was literally lying on the board while he held onto it, waiting for a decent wave to come) I didn’t really understand if it was a date (just me and him) or a group thing with some of the other teachers and students as he told me to meet him at the school. However, as I was leaving the surfing workshop he had waited for me to walk out after the other students and organised a time with me to meet so I had an inkling it was more of a date type scenario. If I am being honest, I only really decided to go because I thought it would be a funny story to tell people back home and I was aware of the fact that at that point on the journey I was rather devoid of such stories. Not that I was dependent on having an element of romance on my trip but after a month and a half of not much on that front despite meeting new people constantly, I was starting to become rather concerned about my interestingness (I realise this is not a word) to the opposite sex. This may have also had something to do with what happened with Joel. Although I realised that he was the one with the problem etc etc, it was hard to not let that whole incident make me doubt myself a little.

So anyway, off I went to meet Isidro for our ‘date’. He was a really nice person and I had fun however I walked away with the impression that I was probably one of many Western wannabe-surfers that he arranges such movie nights with. Also the language barrier is pretty hard to overcome. It is difficult to really be interested in someone when you cannot communicate properly as you never really understand how they tick. However, I appreciated the situation for what it was and I would be lying if I said that my ego didn’t receive a slight stroking...

Friday rolled around and my ever-increasing dread at having to leave Montanita reached fever pitch. After my morning class I made a decision and set off for the internet cafe to let the people at the orphanage in Colombia know that I would be arriving two weeks later than my initial date. I felt a twinge of guilt at letting the organisation down, however I strongly felt that I needed to stay in Montanita.

Ok well this is not going to be finished soon so I will post half now in the interests of keeping you all (whoever you are) up to date...