One of the best parts of travelling is the interaction with other travellers, meeting so many different people with different experiences from all over the world! Aside from the countries we have been in, we have met people from Canada, Sweden, Iceland, Germany, Australia, Denmark, Portugal, Holland, Spain, France, Switzerland, Poland, Belgium, Norway, New Zealand and plenty of Americans and Israelis (who seem to travel in groups of no less that 20 after having finished their military service).
The other great thing about meeting all of these people is their advice and tips for places to go or stay- that's why we popped into Uruguay, and in the same way, Elle and I found ourselves in Pucon, Chile. We had been told about the active volcano there called Villaricca, with a floating glacier, meaning it is possible to slide down parts of it on ice slides! Needless to say, we had to investigate.
Getting up at 5am was bad enough, but nothing compared to the treacherous steep path, with a constant fear of falling- and that was even before we had to start using crampons and ice picks on the glacier. Apparently two people had died just the week before on the hike- not something you want to hear when you are half-way up and not completely confident about completing the other half. After about 4 or 5 hours of the hike, we reached the top and felt absolutely EUPHORIC! The panoramic views were insane- stunning scenery all around (the only negative being toxic sulphur fumes issuing from the huge crater, made it hard to enjoy lunch!) The way down is always worse than the way up, having reached the goal of the summit, the pain starts to increase and exhaustion sets in....
At least there were ice slides then! There were only three of them, due to high temperatures etc, but even so, we slid about a kilometre down the side of the volcano. It was obviously great fun; we were instructed not to go too fast by using our ice picks as brakes- many people accidentally impaling themselves on them at the sudden stops- and we used protective mats which clipped round our legs to slide down on (although one of our group somehow managed to completely shred his, clearly wasn't using his ice pick enough!) Eventually made it to the base, coated in dust, breathing dust, swallowing dust- lots kicked up on the steep descent downwards, in parts you slip and slide down the slope with great plumes billowing behind- not the best fun if you are at the back fo the group. Elle was almost spritely when we got back to the hostel, although I don't think either of us managed to walk without pain for a good week afterwards. My boots clearly didn't fit well because the excruciating pain in my feet turned out to be my big toenails detaching from the nail bed- the left one coming off completely a few days later- one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen! It was a comfort to meet another woman a few days later who said the same had happened to her too. Even after all the pain, it was definitely worth it- how many people can say they climbed an active volcano and slid down it too?
The next few days were spent further north, in Valparaiso, a quirky bohemian port town with plenty of street art and winding streets with steep steps (slow progress on the battered legs!) We spent the day trying to take increasingly arty photos- my favourite building was one painted in the style of Mondrian- and the next day at Vina del Mar, a short bus ride away, relaxing on the beach and soaking up the sun rays (an acitivity we thought we had long since lost back in Brazil- so so nice to be back on sand!) Then it was time to move onwards, back into Argentina to Mendoza and meet Bee flying back from Canada....
Tuesday, 17 April 2012
Birthday in Bariloche
Depleted to just two members (Bee having flown off to see her family in Canada for skiing), Elle and I took a lovely long bus ride down south to Bariloche. I say 'lovely long' because Argentinian buses are out of this world- tea, coffee, meals, films, music, blankets etc etc- and all this on just the most basic 'semi-cama' seats. On the Royal Cama Suites services there is champagne and whisky before bed, where the seats go fully horizontal and another part flips up to make an actual bed...so with all this luxury, you end up not wanting to get off at the final destination! This particular bus ride was about 20 hours (nowhere near long enough) down into Patagonia.
Our first thoughts on arrival in Bariloche was its resemblance to Switzerland- not only in the snow-capped mountains surrounding a curved lake (leading to the most incredible panoramic photos of sunset and sunrise with all the reflections and silhouettes)- but also in the alpine-lodge-like buildings, the numerous chocolate shops, ski shops and fleeces on display (felt a little out of place still in flip-flops with everyone else bundled up in thermals- clearly the coldness was a state of mind).
I celebrated my 19th birthday with some exhilirating white water rafting; we felt incredibly intrepid even when informed that the course was only a level 3 and the hardest level is a 5. Either way it was great fun- at one point we jumped out and floated feet first down the rapid- hard to breath with the coldness of the water and each surge of water coming milliseconds after the previous. Returning that evening, exhausted, probably resembling to some extent drowned rats, we indulged in dinner at a nice restaurant, which turned out to be owned by the brother of the Argentinian princess!
So, delicious food, good wine, complimentary champagne- what was our favourite part of the meal? The salad for starter. Our diets have become really terrible- too many carbs and not enough fresh fruit or vegetables (if any). On the plus side we now know that cooking with rice and pasta has limitless potential- plain, butter, salt, chicken stock, vegetable stock, noodle soups, garlic and oil......and all this generally free by taking full advantage of hostel kitchens (if you can withstand the horror of the other travellers!) It can get rather intimidating when somebody next to you is cooking an incredible stir-fry whilst you stir your rice cooked in chicken stock and optimistically call it 'risotto'....
Our first thoughts on arrival in Bariloche was its resemblance to Switzerland- not only in the snow-capped mountains surrounding a curved lake (leading to the most incredible panoramic photos of sunset and sunrise with all the reflections and silhouettes)- but also in the alpine-lodge-like buildings, the numerous chocolate shops, ski shops and fleeces on display (felt a little out of place still in flip-flops with everyone else bundled up in thermals- clearly the coldness was a state of mind).
I celebrated my 19th birthday with some exhilirating white water rafting; we felt incredibly intrepid even when informed that the course was only a level 3 and the hardest level is a 5. Either way it was great fun- at one point we jumped out and floated feet first down the rapid- hard to breath with the coldness of the water and each surge of water coming milliseconds after the previous. Returning that evening, exhausted, probably resembling to some extent drowned rats, we indulged in dinner at a nice restaurant, which turned out to be owned by the brother of the Argentinian princess!
So, delicious food, good wine, complimentary champagne- what was our favourite part of the meal? The salad for starter. Our diets have become really terrible- too many carbs and not enough fresh fruit or vegetables (if any). On the plus side we now know that cooking with rice and pasta has limitless potential- plain, butter, salt, chicken stock, vegetable stock, noodle soups, garlic and oil......and all this generally free by taking full advantage of hostel kitchens (if you can withstand the horror of the other travellers!) It can get rather intimidating when somebody next to you is cooking an incredible stir-fry whilst you stir your rice cooked in chicken stock and optimistically call it 'risotto'....
Sunday, 15 April 2012
The Big BA
It was incredibly disorientating to arrive in such a HUGE city after a small sandy village! Our stay kicked off with St Patrick´s Day celebrations- lots of green and glitter and beer in the streets around the irish pubs, and plenty of film crews too (maybe if you search hard enough you will find a clip of us dancing and chanting and generally giving travellers a rowdy reputation).
We managed to pack a lot into our days, highlights include:
-exploring all of the markets in the different areas of BA, leading to an enjoyable but exhausting 10 hour walk around between and back from the markets
-visit to La Boca, area where all the huildings are painted to the point of true graphic design and street art, also `La Camanita´ where the houses become individual blocks of coloured corrugated iron, they are so vibrant they almost seem to emit life!
-the cemetery in Recoleta, huge tombs with ornate carvings and statues, forming a labrynth at once beautiful but solemn and imposing- also Evita´s tomb
- a hugely funny tango class, followed by a professional tango show (we could have given them a run for their money...definitely...)
-a mound of the juiciest steak imaginable
-visiting a ranch, horse riding and riding with gauchos, watching an incredible horsemanship display (cantering up to a stand and sewing a needle through a ring the size of a bottle cap)
-football game at the BOCA stadium! BOCA juniors vs. Lanus (ended in a draw) but now a die-hard fan, got the football jersey and everything...
-obviously the crazy nightlife! people start to party at 2am, making it back to the hostel in time for breakfast, having danced as hard as the Argentinians
We managed to pack a lot into our days, highlights include:
-exploring all of the markets in the different areas of BA, leading to an enjoyable but exhausting 10 hour walk around between and back from the markets
-visit to La Boca, area where all the huildings are painted to the point of true graphic design and street art, also `La Camanita´ where the houses become individual blocks of coloured corrugated iron, they are so vibrant they almost seem to emit life!
-the cemetery in Recoleta, huge tombs with ornate carvings and statues, forming a labrynth at once beautiful but solemn and imposing- also Evita´s tomb
- a hugely funny tango class, followed by a professional tango show (we could have given them a run for their money...definitely...)
-a mound of the juiciest steak imaginable
-visiting a ranch, horse riding and riding with gauchos, watching an incredible horsemanship display (cantering up to a stand and sewing a needle through a ring the size of a bottle cap)
-football game at the BOCA stadium! BOCA juniors vs. Lanus (ended in a draw) but now a die-hard fan, got the football jersey and everything...
-obviously the crazy nightlife! people start to party at 2am, making it back to the hostel in time for breakfast, having danced as hard as the Argentinians
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
Rio to Buneos Aires!
One of the last activities we did in Rio was a favela tour- favelas are similar to slums but with much more structure and are more like a neighborhood than a nuisance. There are about 2 million inhabitants in favelas in Brazil in total, this particular favela (Rocinha) had about 30,000. The police had just started a `pacification-process´- flushing out all the drugs and guns etc.- in this favela, and similar operations were being carried in others, in preparation for the Olympics.
There are tiny little alleys for streets, winding between (and sometimes under) the houses packed closely together, with all electricity lines and pipework on the outside of buildings, so there is a constant jumble of wires overhead. Apparently all the locals have free internet, electricity and cable tv by breaking open the locked access boxes and wiring them up directly to avoid the metre- officials do not prevent the tampering from fear of local drug lords [At one point a man walked past who, we were later told, worked for the drug lords, and was used by them to punish domestic violence in the favela- by scalping!] People can rent the `houses´- more like rooms- which costs close to if not all of an average monthly wage, so most build their own. In the favelas, if somebody finds an area of open space it is theirs to build on. Obviously with so many people crowded, space isn´t available, so roof space can be sold instead, and building goes upwards, with four or five houses on top of eachother. With no real foundations or structural support it´s very easy in mudslides for houses to collapse- we saw one eerily empty gap among the houses with the hep or rubble left there. Rubbish is also strewn about; in theory it is collected every three days by the government but salaries are paid by standing order and nobody checks if collectors do their jobs, so in most cases, it is just left. Sewage systems run under the alleys, but with mudslides, heavy rain and all the rubbish clogging, there were parts which flowed across the street.
After a few more days of sun, sand and samba, we took another 24 hour bus to see the famed Iguazu Falls. It´s possible to see the Falls from both Brazil and Argentina- and hotly disputed which one is better- but we crossed the border into Argentina and first saw then heard the water at `Garganta del Diablo´- The Devil´s Throat. The sheer sound and scale was absolutely breathtaking- especially with the water vapour rising into the air- so despite all the photos looking like generic downloads from google images, it really was awe-inspiring. We walked round all the other waterfalls too and later took a boat underneath one, getting soaked and chafing all the way back to the bus. Next stop was Florianopolis, or technically the Isla Santa Catarina,.further south back in Brazil. Lovely beaches and atmosphere, dearly remembered by all who have been there and for good reason! We were there for International Women´s Day and celebrated with a self-navigated kayaking excursion to the lagoon (felt the endorphins almost immediately!) followed by Notting Hill and then a half-price-for-women all-you-can-eat curry for the equivalent of about two pounds. Heaven.
Following the advice of some friends we made in Rio, we decided to make a little detour into Uruguay for a few days. The bus arrived at the border between Brazil and Uruguay at 7 am, and it was quite surreal to be sitting in the middle of an avenue with Brazil on one side, with signs and shop names in Portuguese, and then Uruguay and spanish on the other! It was here that we had our first experience of `Maté', a herbal tea drunk from a special gourd through a silver spoon called a bombilla, and shared among a group, all drinking from the same cup. We felt privileged to share in the custom with one local and two fellow travellers from Spain (who luckily did most of the talking). We walked the 2km across the border to our next bus stop and the border control for the all-important passport stamp, walking along the side of the road with cars, lorries and horses and carts driving past, it felt very strange to be suddenly in a different country with a different langauge and a noticeably different landscape- lots of flat green fields. We spent a few days in Punta del Diablo, climbing boulders along the beaches and sand boarding (a friend at our hostel decided to teach us; we weren´t exactly quick learners, it was exhausting, there was sand in our teeth for days afterwards, but most importantly it was so much fun!) We watched both the sunrises and also the moon rise out of the sea- initially blood-red and triangular, poking up out of the waves, then slowly growing and fading in colour. The stars were beyond belief- never seen such clarity or brightness before or since- and we could even see the Milky Way.
We headed next to a town called Cabo Polonio; a town with sand roads flanked on both sides by untouched beaches, and supposedly with no electricity. It was really beautiful with lots of little painted houses and lighthouse, and at night the candlelight emitted a bewitching glow from all the windows. Elle and I met a man whose godfather ran a radio station and we were invited to be interviewed, and so we made our international radio debut in Uruguay! (Ok..Cabo Polonio...with about 40 listeners...we said about two words in spanish since we tried to be polite and make an effort...we got told we ''could have done better''....) Later that night we danced around a bonfire on the beach with three musicians singing and playing guitars/wooden blocks, under the stars with the sound of the waves providing a background ostinato...
Very sad to leave Uruguay, we caught the bus to Montevideo and then the overnight ferry to Buenos Aires, arriving on Paddy´s Day and completely unprepared for the excitement waiting for us!
There are tiny little alleys for streets, winding between (and sometimes under) the houses packed closely together, with all electricity lines and pipework on the outside of buildings, so there is a constant jumble of wires overhead. Apparently all the locals have free internet, electricity and cable tv by breaking open the locked access boxes and wiring them up directly to avoid the metre- officials do not prevent the tampering from fear of local drug lords [At one point a man walked past who, we were later told, worked for the drug lords, and was used by them to punish domestic violence in the favela- by scalping!] People can rent the `houses´- more like rooms- which costs close to if not all of an average monthly wage, so most build their own. In the favelas, if somebody finds an area of open space it is theirs to build on. Obviously with so many people crowded, space isn´t available, so roof space can be sold instead, and building goes upwards, with four or five houses on top of eachother. With no real foundations or structural support it´s very easy in mudslides for houses to collapse- we saw one eerily empty gap among the houses with the hep or rubble left there. Rubbish is also strewn about; in theory it is collected every three days by the government but salaries are paid by standing order and nobody checks if collectors do their jobs, so in most cases, it is just left. Sewage systems run under the alleys, but with mudslides, heavy rain and all the rubbish clogging, there were parts which flowed across the street.
After a few more days of sun, sand and samba, we took another 24 hour bus to see the famed Iguazu Falls. It´s possible to see the Falls from both Brazil and Argentina- and hotly disputed which one is better- but we crossed the border into Argentina and first saw then heard the water at `Garganta del Diablo´- The Devil´s Throat. The sheer sound and scale was absolutely breathtaking- especially with the water vapour rising into the air- so despite all the photos looking like generic downloads from google images, it really was awe-inspiring. We walked round all the other waterfalls too and later took a boat underneath one, getting soaked and chafing all the way back to the bus. Next stop was Florianopolis, or technically the Isla Santa Catarina,.further south back in Brazil. Lovely beaches and atmosphere, dearly remembered by all who have been there and for good reason! We were there for International Women´s Day and celebrated with a self-navigated kayaking excursion to the lagoon (felt the endorphins almost immediately!) followed by Notting Hill and then a half-price-for-women all-you-can-eat curry for the equivalent of about two pounds. Heaven.
Following the advice of some friends we made in Rio, we decided to make a little detour into Uruguay for a few days. The bus arrived at the border between Brazil and Uruguay at 7 am, and it was quite surreal to be sitting in the middle of an avenue with Brazil on one side, with signs and shop names in Portuguese, and then Uruguay and spanish on the other! It was here that we had our first experience of `Maté', a herbal tea drunk from a special gourd through a silver spoon called a bombilla, and shared among a group, all drinking from the same cup. We felt privileged to share in the custom with one local and two fellow travellers from Spain (who luckily did most of the talking). We walked the 2km across the border to our next bus stop and the border control for the all-important passport stamp, walking along the side of the road with cars, lorries and horses and carts driving past, it felt very strange to be suddenly in a different country with a different langauge and a noticeably different landscape- lots of flat green fields. We spent a few days in Punta del Diablo, climbing boulders along the beaches and sand boarding (a friend at our hostel decided to teach us; we weren´t exactly quick learners, it was exhausting, there was sand in our teeth for days afterwards, but most importantly it was so much fun!) We watched both the sunrises and also the moon rise out of the sea- initially blood-red and triangular, poking up out of the waves, then slowly growing and fading in colour. The stars were beyond belief- never seen such clarity or brightness before or since- and we could even see the Milky Way.
We headed next to a town called Cabo Polonio; a town with sand roads flanked on both sides by untouched beaches, and supposedly with no electricity. It was really beautiful with lots of little painted houses and lighthouse, and at night the candlelight emitted a bewitching glow from all the windows. Elle and I met a man whose godfather ran a radio station and we were invited to be interviewed, and so we made our international radio debut in Uruguay! (Ok..Cabo Polonio...with about 40 listeners...we said about two words in spanish since we tried to be polite and make an effort...we got told we ''could have done better''....) Later that night we danced around a bonfire on the beach with three musicians singing and playing guitars/wooden blocks, under the stars with the sound of the waves providing a background ostinato...
Very sad to leave Uruguay, we caught the bus to Montevideo and then the overnight ferry to Buenos Aires, arriving on Paddy´s Day and completely unprepared for the excitement waiting for us!
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