Ding Dong Merrilly on high...

some photos of the pre-christmas banter to be found here.... here's one of me and the oul' fella selling Christmas trees

Oh yeah... a big-up to my cuz Dave Green and all his homies in work.

The Prodigal Son

hey guys,

back in ireland a week now... Sorry I haven't updated but I've been sucked into the blackhole that is the week before Christmas.

Am thrilled to be back... have met up with lots of friends and have had a couple of great nights out. Sold Christmas trees with dad which helped me bridge the financial gap for a while and which allowed me to have a good few festive drinks and liquid lunches. I know everybody always says this but it's really great to see everyone and to see what they are doing with themselves.

My travels already seem like a distant memory but I know that they existed and my rapidly fading tan is still proof of an odyssee undertaken.

I think that I will keep the blog going if for nothing more than a method of sharing some pics with people. Speaking of which, I will post some photos soon. (Am still on the photo high from SA). I hope you are all enjoying the run up to Xmas as much as I am. Will update soon.

Last photo update (sniff)

Click here for photos of Taganga, the fisher village that I stayed in for three weeks before I had to leave for this hellhole of Caracas...

The End (for now)

It would appear as though the fat lady is singing for me and my South American travels... I've left Colombia, by far the highlight of said travels and a country that I will revisit again soon. Last night, I got a bus from Taganga, a beach side paradise that has seen me through the last three weeks, and made my way west to the Venezuelan border and then on to Caracas, from where I now update.

I was sad to leave Taganga and Colombia. The last few weeks have been special there: I met a lot of cool people who helped me chill-out and soak in some Caribbean lifestyle. I spent my time there lying on the beach, reading books, diving and generally taking it easy. I even managed to fit in a day of deep-sea fishing yesterday during which I caught my first Tuna (albeit a smallish one) and I witnessed the magical catching of a Marlin.

Leaving Colombia has the additional baggage that I'm leaving it to go home: I am flying out of Caracas to Frankfurt (and reality) in two days, so this could well be my last post from South America.

I have very mixed feelings about going home. On the one-hand (if I had another couple of pesos), I would be more than content to follow the natural progression of my travels into Panama and then up through Central America. I would be very drawn to Panama, Nicaragua, Guatemala and Mexico. On the other hand, I am coming home for Christmas, to see my family and friends who I miss a lot. I am also planning on working in London from February, so that will be something new and exiting to look forward to. (In a healthy, if somewhat bizarre turn of events, I am actually looking forward to throwing myself into work, which is good because I really need to).

Venezuela is also a country that I would like to get to know. I've only been here a couple of hours but I sense that its very different from Colombia and from any other country that I have been in down here. It has a bad reputation for crime and unfriendly locals but I learned a long time ago that foreign perceptions of these countries are frequently misleading. I would like to discover Venezuela for myself, if for nothing more than the interest that the country's politics and president, Hugo Chavez, awake in me. But that will have to wait for another day. (For those of you unaware of Venezuela's role in world geopolitics and Chavez, then click here for a BBC profile).

So, I will update from home with the last of the photos as well as a long-and-drawn-out Conor's final thought on travel and South America. In the meantime, this is your man in SA signing off for the last time.

Suerte amigos.

Two weeks to go...

well hello there,

I thought that I would attack you with a small update since much has happened since finding the Lost city. I am now in Taganga, a beachside suburb of Santa Marta on the northern colombian coast.

I am also happy to announce my status as a certified diver having completed Padi`s Advanced Open Water course in record time. I was lucky enough to fit in a night dive where and also a wreck dive where we visited the seventeen year old wreck of a drug-smuggling boat at 27 metres. Scary stuff!

Unfortunately my course ended up with an ear infection of seismic proportions, but I bumped into a seasoned French diver who was kind enough to pump a variety of drugs and antibiotics into me and I am now well on my way to a full recovery. The last two days were pretty bad, couldn´t sleep at night and spent all day feeling like shit, but at least I was in the right place for it. Taganga is a sleepy little seaside village where the locals are really friendly and everything runs at a slow pace. Went to the beach today for the first time and it was pretty idyllic with a burning red sunset to finish it off.

Anyway, will be hanging around here for the next few days while I contemplate what I will do with the remaining two (!!!!!!!!) weeks of my trip... will update if and when I have an agenda.

Live it large mis amigos...

Finding the Lost City

Excuse the lack of updates but I was in the jungle. I got back from my trip to Ciudad Perdida (Lost City, now found) about three days ago and since then I have been up to my ears in seawater. I started my PADI Diving course here in Taganga as soon as I got back and tomorrow will be my third day of diving (For those of you who know their shit, I´m doing the PADI Open Water and Advanced Open Water courses here).

So, I had a frickin´ ball on the trip to the Lost City. It took three days of (relatively easy-going) walking to get there, we spent two nights there and then it took two days (slightly less easy-going) walking to get back. I was lucky with the group as well: two Aussie guys, an English girl, a Scottish girl and a French guy... all cool people.

We took a jeep from Santa Marta at the coast until the road stopped and then hiked from there through to the Lost City through the most amazing landscape. We crossed rivers wading, over crazy-assed bridges and by hanging cage. We visited an untouched indigenous village and battled with all kinds of livestock for our right of way. We cooked over campfires, drank water from the streams and rivers, slept in hammocks and cleaned ourselves in the rivers and under waterfalls. It was fucking idyllic.

This part of the country is controlled by the paramilitaries (i.e. not the government) but they were friendly and let us pass without problems (they get paid off by the guide). They even explained their raison d´etre and ideology to us, gave us fruit and cigarettes when we passed and even let us take pictures of them (and us with their guns - see thephotos). See links below for more info about Colombia´s civil war:

Q&A to Colombia´s civil war (BBC)

Profile of Colombias Armed Groups (BBC)

We walked early every morning so that we could avoid (most of) the afternoon rain... remember that its rainy season here and that although the mornings are glorious, the heavens open at some stage in the afternoon and it doesn´t let up until the next morning. On the fourth day, we had to walk for nine hours so we got caught in a serious downpour but it only serves to cool you off after all the walking (although it does make it more likely that you will fall on your snot). The evenings were spent playing cards and other relaxing social activities.

The Lost city itself is an impressive array of foundation sites for mud/wood huts used by the Tayrona Indians about fifteen hundred years ago. It has stairs and irrigation systems everywhere and is spread across a ridge between two mountains with spectacular surroundings.

Anyway, check out the pics and I will update soon with some diving pics hopefully. Am doing wreck dive and night dive on Monday and today I saw a trillion fish and lobsters and moray eels etc. Smellya later people.

A-bomb-inable behaviour

Imagine a beautiful old Colombian town on the Caribbean seafront. Standing in a small square in the workers quarter of the old town... a handsome church adorns the plaza and its colonial buildings are washed in a myriad of different colours.

It´s five o´ clock in the afternoon and the plaza is packed with people swinging and grooving to sweet salsa sounds. Young and old are dancing to the beats, everyone looks like they´ve been born on the dance floor (and Conor looks like he was born with water on his brain).

A messy parade with a plethora of different dancers push their way through the mob, who in turn give them their full attention. People are selling bags of water, water balloons, flour, snow in a can and a variety of other things for throwing on people... Every now and then someone clasps their hands around your face covering you in blue face paint if you´re lucky... motor oil if you´re not... You have your bottle of Aguardiente in your pocket and pull it out every so often to drink to the health of you, your friends, your dogs, the random person you just bumped into etc. etc. etc.

This is Carnival in Cartagena.

Its the same carnival that happens in February all over the world, but Cartagena has their one in November because that's when the city gained its Independence from the Spaniards. (They also vote for Miss Colombia in Cartagena on the same weekend just to fuel the testosterone levels).

We were in the slightly poorer (and hence funnier) part of the old city and when there was a gap in the parade, the locals ran over from the other side of the road to soak us (the only five "Gringos" on the plaza) with water or fake snow... next gap, we would run over and soak them... it was a fun Gringo v. Locals war... but they outnumbered us about a trillion to one and naturally took the battle. We were left soaked to the skin. All we could do in the end was wave a white t-shirt as a sign of our capitulation and a drunken peace was declared with a few shared shots of Aguardiente.

I´ve gotta say that it was some experience... I have never, ever seen anyone party like these dudes did on Carnival... They were throwing bangers (or little bombs to be more accurate) everywhere. It was what I would imagine Fallujah to look like if the Americans gave everyone a bag of Semtex and a ripped-up Koran for Christmas. Pics of Carnival and Cartagena can be found here.

Since then I have been shown around every corner of the city (rich and poor) by a local friend and tonite I´m leaving Cartagena, the last city on my itinerary, for the hotter (and wetter) eastern coast. The plan is a last forage inland to see the Lost City of Santa Marta, previously inaccessible due to guerilla-paramilitary fighting, but now a bit of a off-the-trail gringo attraction.

And yeah, I lost my credit card, so I´m a kind of up shit creek with a toothpick for a paddle. I´ve cancelled it and we´ll see what happens on that front. (Nothing was spent, I think I just lost it down the side of a seat somewhere).

Peace brothers!

Goooood Mooorrrrning Cartagena

Arrived in Cartagena this morning after a relatively pleasant bus journey and the only thing that comes to mind is a line from Good Morning Vietnam:

"It´s hot and it´s wet... which is fine when you’re with a lady, but ain’t no good when you’re in the jungle..."

I suppose I´m not strictly speaking in the Jungle but I´m not far off. Luckily enough its still festive here with Miss Colombia being voted in tomorrow and crazy drunken people wandering around the streets at all hours. I´ve had my little siesta and am now pondering the merits of a bottle of aguardiente to shag in the freezer to wake up my fiesta hormones later.

There´s rumba, salsa, reggaetone, meringe etc. blasting from every street corner and I have a sneaky suspicion that tonite may be another occassion for some messy salsa impressions on my behalf.

Had a walk around the old town this morning and it actually is quite impressive.

Everyone waffles on about how great and old and colonial Cartagena is, but when we arrived this morning we took a taxi through some serious slums before we got to the old city... The roads were flooded and the water came up to the dashboard of the taxi... it actually started coming into the inside of the car.... but the driver didn´t mind, ha, didn´t mind that we were getting soaked because the seals on his rustbucket were pre-Inca... But whatyagonnado huh?

Right, I´m burning this joint... l8r compadres

Livin' la vida... Colombian style

As promised, this is what I have been up to in Colombia for the past two weeks:

I arrived into Bogota on the 27th of October and had a great (Halloween) weekend there with a plethora of different parties and all. I met an American guy called Tom and and an Italian girl called Mara in the hostel there who felt like doing a little trip so on the Monday after the hectic weekend we set sail for San Augustin in the South of Colombia. (Pic of Tom & Mara here).

They say about Colombia that it filters out all the shit travellers, i.e. those that want their travelling experience to be as close to their home life as possible and aren't really out for adventure or difference (i.e. "Ohmygod, why do the Peruvians not have air conditioning on their buses, that is like sooooo annoying, and what really pisses me off about Bolivia is that you can't get good felafel's there" etc. etc. blah, blah, blah). I'm sure you've noticed that yours truly is a great traveller which is why I am here in Colombia (I got through the "slick" filter.... obviously).

No but the thing is, that this country is perfectly developed, it has an infrastructure which is one of the best down here in South America, the roads are great, the buses are great, the standard of living is high... yet, nobody comes here because of the "war" (more on that in a later post). This lack of "gringos" lends a novelty factor to those of us that are here and the locals view us with an open, friendly, curious attitude. In the two weeks I have been here I have had more interaction with the Colombians than in the same amount of time in any other country so far. So far, I perceive the Colombians to be the friendliest people I have met so far.

San Augustin - Nature, Shrooms and near-death Rafting

This is a small town in the southern Sierra. It was a great intro into the Colombian countryside. I have problems describing this countryside without referring to the standard cliches "lush" and "green", although it should be noted that they are very applicable.

Try to imagine the rolling hills of the lower Alps (think Edelweiss The Sound of Music), covered in an unbelievable variety of rich green tropical growth speckled with a kaleidoscope of other deep colours. Throw in the occasional canyon complete with rushing river and you've more or less got an idea of what this place looks like. (you can also click here for a sample).

So when we got to San Augustin we stayed in a great little hostel (we had the place to ourselves - a frequent facet of travelling in Colombia). But with the people that worked there, there was a sense of a little community... one of the guys was studying hallucinogenic plants and the other was testing them for him... 'nough said! We spent our days wandering around in nature and seeing the millenia-old unexplained stone carvings that put this place on the map. Evenings were spent inside playing cards or chatting about the meaning of life. (More pics of San Augustin here).

We decided also that we would take the opportunity of the aforementioned rivers and their awesome canyons to engage in a little rafting (classes 3 to 4.5 for those of you in the know) and this was to prove one of the highlights of my trip. After a brief course in Rafting 101 the three of us set off with three guides, six paddles and a raft. Well all I can say is Holy Jayzus.... Rafting rocks! We were all having a fucking ball, the river was high and the rapids really lived up to their name. All was good until we hit the quickest rapid (somewhere between class 4.5 and 5) and just at the start of it, the raft went over into a ditch and up the other side at a near vertical angle. Yours truly went headfirst into the water (I actually thought that the whole raft had capsized but it was only me that went in).

It was a real shock to the system and I went into the water without a chance to grab a lung full of air. I fell straight into the wake of a huge rock. It had water cascading down either side which created a kind of twilight zone of still water in the middle but with an incredibly strong downward pull. I was kept stationary in this wake for about five to ten seconds, but I was under the water swimming up towards the surface but not progressing an inch. The surface of the water was about a foot away from me and I could see the sky and the rock clearly but no matter how I persisted I could not reach the surface. I thought it was the end... I really thought that that's how it would finish for me... I could see the headlines "Irish guy drowns in rafting in Colombia"... I could see my parents coming down here to repatriate mortal remains and I felt bad cos I promised my mum that I wouldn't die here.

Luckily enough, I eventually remembered my rafting lesson and remembered that Armando (the head honcho) had told us that if we fall in, then swimming makes no difference, we were just to cross our arms over our chests and let the water take us trying to keep our feet first so that we protect ourselves against the rocks. I felt that another second or two would conquer my consciousness so I folded my arms and against all my instincts stopped trying to reach the surface. Before I knew it, the current swept me out of the wake and I was bopping at the surface gasping for air... I was still in rapids but at least I was above the surface. I kept my feet in front of me and had to push off a couple of rocks with them, always trying to stay out of the wake on the other side for fear of a repeat experience. Finally, the river calmed and I was thrown a rope and pulled aboard the raft in absolute gasping disbelief at my survival.

That was the closest I have ever been to the end... I was sure that this was the final curtain and was thinking about family and friends and how unfair it was that I should have to die so young. I spent the rest of the day walking around in a state of disbelief and awe at being alive. Pics of rafting are here)

Salento - Coffee, Aguardiente & Salsa

You must remember that this is the rainy season in Colombia so every late afternoon/early evening the sky's open and it buckets down for a couple of hours thoroughly watering the countryside. However the mornings are beautiful and the late evenings and nights are usually dry as well (except for the ground after the downpour).

After our rafting experience we took an overnighter to Salento, a small town in the Zona Cafetera (coffee region) about 12 hours north of San Augustin. Here the countryside was similar to San Augustin's but with slightly higher mountains (not so hilly, more grassland and a piss-pot full of coffee farms (Finca's)).

Our days here were spent seeing coffee farms and the giant wax palms that the region is famous for. But the highpoint of Salento was the nightlife. As I previously mentioned, I was lucky enough to be here for a fiesta gastronomica, a fiesta-fueled long weekend. Tom and Mara came out with me on their last night before going back to Bogota and the locals broke us in to their salsa dancing and aguardiente, the local spirit here - sugar cane with Anis... an all-too-drinkable melange.

On the next (Saturday) night I lost all my gringo friends by 3am and spent the rest of the night (and following day) cruising around town with a group of Colombians looking for aguardiente (which we managed to find in vast quantities despite the fact that none of us had any money). When the farmer boys had to go to work, they brought me up to try my hand at milking cows and then we sped around the fields on motorbikes and mopeds for a bit.

I woke up Sunday night at about 8pm in some dudes apartment not knowing where I was or what the hell had happened. When I got back to the hostel, they had all thought that I had been abducted or something. What a great night! Click here for pics of Salento.

So after that super-dooper weekend in small town Colombia, I made my way to Medellin, the second biggest city of Colombia, where I have been chilling out since then.

I'm being a bad tourist in Medellin, I haven't seen anything of any touristy value here and I am going tonite... but I don't care... cities are cities... I went out on Wednesday night and ended up in some Karaoke bar where myself and an Aussie dude broke the chain of Spanish songs with a drunken rendition of YMCA, that got the locals a-boogyin' despite our slurred speech. (YMCA was one of the only English songs that they had on option - before anyone says anything else! You people are so predictable...)

Anyway, tonite I'm off to Cartagena, an apparently beautiful old colonial town and guess where it is in Colombia... I'll give you hint, its at a certain coast... no, not the Irish sea....... not the pacific either, no the Atlantic isn't it... No mis amigos, tomorrow at long last, I will reach the Caribbean, the promised land and the stuff of my Patagonian and Andean dreams.

I will arrive in Cartagena tomorrow for another fiesta-style long weekend and will then make my way along the northern Colombian (ahem Caribbean) coast towards Venezuela and my final destination of Caracas from where its "Home James and don't stop the horses".

I may never update again because I have a sneaky suspicion that the lure of the beach will overcome the glow of the screen for the next month. However, I will try.

Signing off for your man in Colombia, this is el Conoro... hasta la proxima!

---

Hostels I stayed in:

Bogota: Platypus Hostel - fantastic hostel for meeting people, owner German is the most helpful, nicest person in history, nicely placed in La Candelaria

San Augustin: La Casa de Francois - great community feeling to this hostel, a little bit outside town with great nature and great views... the guys there are really helpful with everything

Salento: The Plantation House - nice, comfortable place... good for meeting people but consider staying in non-Gringo hostel in this town.

Medellin: The Black Sheep - new Gringo Hostel in town, in a nice area (although slightly residential), good for meeting people, but lots of tellys so not quite as social as others...

Sorry for not updating, but I`m having an unbelievable time here... Been in Colombia just over a week now and have had a great weekend in Bogota (halloween parties & barbeques) and then headed down to San Augustin in the South (rafting, nature & hippies) and am now in Salento in the Zona Cafetera (coffee & salsa).

Went out last night and ended up at a table with just me and locals trying to outdrink each other at aguardiente (crazy-assed local booze)... so I feel pretty f%$ked up today and everyone in the town seems to know my name ... (tonite is a big fiesta cos its a long weekend in colombia ... fiesta gastronimica... doesn`t sound too bad so I have to recuperate quickly)

I have loads of shit to talk about but I feel like someone`s nailed a 2x4 across my forehead so I`m going back to bed... will update on monday, I swear!

pics update

hey folks,

click here for party and parachute pics of Lima. Have had a great weekend in Bogota and am on my way down south for a couple of days tonite... Will update soon with more drivel.

ciao

On the road again...

just a quickie to update you.

Lima is over, finito, terminado... I got my visa yesterday, went straight to book a flight and arrived into Bogota this morning at 10am. So here I am, in Colombia´s capital, absolutely thrilled to be here.

First impressions of Colombia: green... very green compared to Lima´s grey and it´s surrounding desert... A lush kind of dark green which permeates even throughout Bogota - not jungle growth, but just thick healthy lush trees and shrubs... So far, Bogota appears to be a nice place, with lots of open space and parks and plazas etc, although I am in the more touristy and influential north of the city. The dark green is contrasted by roads and plazas paved with terracotta bricks.

All the Colombians I have met so far have been open and chatty and interested. The immigration officer told me about their different entry regulations and the reasons for them. He apologised for my delay in getting a visa and welcomed we heartfeltly into Colombia.

The taxi driver gave me a little guided tour of the city on our way to the hostel and the girls in the hostel made sure that I got the best (double) bed in the best room as compensation for my visa troubles.

I must also point out at this stage is that what has catched my eye most has been the local talent... lets just say that the colombians are an attractive nation... to say the least!

I really need to throw up some photos of my last days in Lima and a couple of images of Bogota. I went parapunting in Lima the other day. It was fantastic. Its like parachuting except you start from the ground and float up and around the cliffs and cityscape of Lima´s beachfront. I came about three metres from the top of a Marriott hotel, it was an absolute rush!

Anyway, promise will update with more colombian detail and a few pics in a day or two...

Keep it real muchachos...

Two turtle doves

it was brown with streaks of white and it smelt nasty... but it would I suppose... being bird shit. Until yesterday I was able to stand up and say with pride that I had never been shat on by a bird... and then what happened: in one day I was shat on twice! TWICE IN ONE DAY... what are the chances... I go my whole life blissfully spared from avian air-raids and then the little fuckers gang up on me and bombard my hair and shoulder in the same day.

Anyway, according to some heads in the hostel, being shat on is good luck and being shat on twice in one day should be considered a sign of something big and good coming my way... So I´ve got my eyes peeled for bundles of cash lying on the pavement although I don´t really adhere to all that black-cat-under-ladder sh1te.

Sooooo, guess what... I´m still waiting for my frickin´ visa... These Colombians are treating me with the utmost suspicion. You´d think they´d be used to Paddy and Swiss backpackers coming in for Visa´s (the only two backpackers that actually need one) but apparently not: they still think that we´re out to train the FARCs (the Paddies, I think they just don´t like the Swiss cos of their neutrality, banking and toblerone of course).

I do have something remotely interesting to report though. I went down to Pisco for a couple of days: a coastal town about four hours away from here surrounded by desert on the land side. It was interesting to see how the desert meets the sea in this part of the world... It makes for interesting formations such as pillars, sea stacks, arches and a plethora of caves. There´s also a group of islands down there called Las Islas Ballestas a.k.a. the Galapagos for poor people. (The Galapagos is far off the Ecuadorean coast and costs a small fortune to get to and do anything there, however its supposed to be a fairly unique habitat).

Aaaaaaanyway, we went on this boat trip around the islands and saw dolphins, sea lions, penguins and a piss-pot full of birds. Twas good craic. The highlight was that night though. My two travelling companions who had come from Lima with me split down south and as I was heading back to Lima, I decided to stay another night or two on my tod.

That night there was a bit of a fiesta going on in the main Plaza (de Armas). There was a parade with floats and salsa dancers and fireworks and brass bands and lots of other stuff. I met some cool Peruvians and we went to their bar afterwards (they owned it) and drank Pisco Sours (a common cocktail made from Pisco - the national spirit of Peru - although Chile claims it as its national spirit as well). Had a frickin´ great night and even managed long, political discussions with my Spanish... was v. proud!

So I´m still in Pisco and I´m just about to make my way back to Lima. I am hoping that I can start making my way to Bogota any day now.

In other news, I had my first experience of crime in South America the other day. I went to the beach here with some people from the hostel and we were lying there soaking in the rays, when these two punters sat down very close to us (too close for comfort on such a big empty beach). I stood up and was walking around our spot when another guy came over and started rabbiting horseshit to me about the beach being dangerous and that we should take care not to stand on broken glass. Everyone was looking at him while he rambled on and on. In the meantime the two muchachos who were sitting close to us took the opportunity to go through the pockets of my jeans which were beside my towel. Luckily enough, I hadn´t brought anything to the beach with me except for about 50 cents worth of small change, and he didn´t seem to think that that was worth his effort so they got away with nothing.

None of us had noticed this but as soon as they were gone some locals came over to us and told us that he had gone through my jeans while we weren´t looking. They appeared quite embarrassed by the antics of their compatriots so they invited us to play raquetball with them on the beach to show us that not all Peruvians were thieves. So in the end, we lost nothing and it helped us meet some locals who we had good craic with.

That was my first experience of crime here in South America, which isn´t too bad for six months of travel here in this "dangerous" part of the world. I felt a bit silly for not having noticed the weird combination of two lads sitting close to us and an obvious distraction, but because I had nothing of any value, i wasn´t really on my guard... I´ll know better for the next time.

Right, that's it for this edition of Conor´s (currently quite stationary)travels. Tune in soon for a Colombian special.

Pics of Pisco can be found here by the way and there are some pics of Lima here.

L8r amigos.

ok, so its been a while since my last post, but in utter and complete honesty, I haven´t done anything in the past week worthy of your attention... so my fingers have remained still and the keyboard has gathered dust...

I applied for my Colombian visa on Monday... I did not make it to Quito, I´m still in Lima... I decided to stay in Lima and apply for my visa from here because:

• I like Lima, its good fun !
• I have not heard anything too positive about Quito, or indeed Ecuador, so I´m gonna give it the ol´ slip
• I can fly directly from here to Bogota... its cheap and its quick!!!
• I like Lima....its good FUN!

I feel kinda bad that of all the time I´m spending in Peru, I´m not seeing more of the country... but do you what, je ne care pas (as they say in France)... cos I´m spending a lot of time with Peruvians here and surely thats good for my cultural development too... and for mi espagnol as well.

I´m recharging my batteries here (and running them down again and recharging them again and running them down again)... and I´m mentally preparing myself for Colombia and its cultural richesse.

So throw me a frickin´ bone here... I´m meeting all these people who fly into Lima and have three weeks in Peru and whose days are filled with museums and other "wholesome" stuff... When I tell them that I´ve been in Lima for the past two weeks and I haven´t seen the inside of a museum here, they draw back in horror and gasp at my sloth.

Fook it NEway... Todays friday so its time again for our weekly pub-crawl (the official one)... Will update when I have my visa or anything exiting happens...

parrrrrr-tyyyyyyyyyyy

yaaaaahuuuu, it´s Fridah naht out thar in Lima and it´s tahm ta rock n´ roll...

Not like any other night has been much different but tonite already promises to be good craic. I´ve just had my little siesta and I´m in the bar in the hostel beboppin' and a-rocksteadyin´...

There´s a bar crawl on the cards tonite and I´m about the oldest resident of this hostel by this stage, so I am more or less leading the frickin´ thing... the usual banter... a couple a´ screwdrivers, a daquiri or two and a partridge in a pear tree!

Found out today that I can´t fly to Quito for less than 400 dollaroos (which means that I can´t fly to Quito full stop) so I have a nice and easy 30 hour bus ride to look forward to on Sunday. Don´t matter tho´ cos Conor´s got himself a Valium prescription (after sweettalkin´ one of those fine-lookin´ pharmicists) and I´m gonna tranquilise mahsilf to the max...P

Please excuse the Texan accent (that´s what it sounds lahk whin I write it, I darnit don´t know what it sounds like whin you read it)...

Good naht all and enjoy yor gawd-darn weekends whatever it is that you good folk maght be doin´.... yeehaw!

pics update

right punters... click here for pictures of Cusco (Qusqo) and the Sacred andhere for pictures of Macchu Picchu...

I can´t think of anything long-winded and interesting to say about Macchu Picchu... have a look at the photos, it was pretty awe-inspiring. When I saw it first in the morning when the sun was just coming up, I thought about the American explorer Haram Bingham, who discovered it in 1911, and I got a shiver down my back. I mean 1911 isn´t that long ago and I find it quite amazing that until then it was actually a lost Inca city (of fairly impressive proportions).

I was speaking to a local women and she reckons that there are a couple of other "lost" ruin sites, some of which haven´t been discovered yet and some of which are being kept quiet... I suppose we´ll see if she was right but either way, it´s all this "secret-lost-city-of-bygone-generations" shite that gives me the willies...!

In other news, I´ve been on the piss in Lima almost every night for the past week and body is pretty fu(&$d up. Am staying here until Sunday or so when I´ll make a beeline for Quito in Ecuador to get this shaggin´ Colombia visa.

I also got treated myself to a haircut and shave today, obliterating the longest beard that I´ve ever had... it had been growing since before Rurrenebaque in Bolivia and was getting pretty itchy and increasingly challenging to keep food out of. My mug is back to its clean shaven self again.

And my final piece of good news for all of you who thought that the loss of my recharger might impede on my ability to capture my voyage (I´m sure that lots of you were really worried about that)... I have managed to dig up a new recharger... of all places that I managed to get it in Pollos Azules, Lima´s big electronic black market (I bought more DVDs as well)... me is very happy!

Later dudes...

bang-bang-bang

...my head hurts... I feel like there´s an angry little man in my brain pounding at the back of my cranium with a pickaxe trying to escape from my skull.

Got to lima yesterday. Its nice to be back at sealevel and by the sea as well... Lima obviously isn`t a highlight of south america but its a big city and has a couple of big-city comforts... Went on the tear last night with some locals and had the biggest night I`ve had for a long-time... (I`m being surprisingly well behaved down here... d`ya hear that mum). Hence the little man with the pickaxe. (who appears to be getting angrier)

I know I owe you a Macchu Picchu post, but I`m not even going to attempt it now.... jesus, I think I`m gonna hurl... must go and lie down!

High as a kite

One thing that took me by surprise in South America is the vast swathes of land dominated by the Andes. It´s not like I didn´t know that there were mountains down here called the Andes, its just that I didn´t quite anticipate the significance of them to geography, climate, culture and mentality. I think that I kinda thought that South America had the Andes in the same way that Europe has the Alps. Sure, the Alps are nice and all, don´t get me wrong. But I wouldn´t say that they have a profound effect on what it means to be European (although admittedly the Swiss are a trifle odd!).

You have to remember that the Andes are a feature of every South American nation barring the Guays (Para- and Uru-), the Guyana's and Brazil. Furthermore, they are the dominating feature of Chile, Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador and Colombia.

This mountain range has functions and effects that reach far beyond its snow-capped peaks. Combined with the Atacama desert for instance, it serves to isolate Chile from the rest of South America in more ways than just geographically. It account for the small stature and big hearts of the Andean Indians and for the tropical sub-zero temperatures of the Bolivian Altiplano (and that's an accurate phrase).

The Andean way of life has a number of qualities that make it so unique and result from the extreme nature of Andean existence.

First of all, travelling in the Andes can be frustrating at the best of times. Whether your preferred method of transport is bus, car, donkey or llama, none of these will ever be able to go from A to B in the same way the crow does (a straight line for those of you who are as thick as two short planks). Unless you´re very lucky, moving between two points will involve a series of near vertical rises and falls and unless you happen to be the owner of a new breed of llama, which comes equipped with a jet engine and wings, you´re going to have to go back and forward along the face of the mountain.

If you say: "I´m going straight from Cuzco to Lima"... what you actually mean is: "I´m going to zig-zag my way from Cuzco to Lima in an intolerably slow and frustrating manner". To travel down here, you need to get used to covering miles in a matter of hours, while progressing only feet towards your stated destination.

Another Andean particularity which I noticed when viewing the majestic Macchu Picchu the other day, is the amount that the locals carry for a living. They appear to spend vast amounts of time lugging shit around (for want of a better phrase). It appears as though this is the same way that their forefathers did it as well. All the Inca ruins I´ve seen so far are very "stone and big-rock dependant" yet almost every tour guide proclaims with pride "that all the rocks used in the construction of this site were taken from a quarry ten miles away / in Uruguay / on the far side of Jupiter".

I think that I had a point when I began this monologue, but I´ve forgotton what it is and I kinda need to use the toilets pretty quickly... If there´s any budding writers reading, then this is a bad example of writing structure and there should really be a conclusion to my babblings. Maybe I´ll put one in the next post.

l8ter

What time is the next cabbage to Lima?

well hello there readers,

have been back from the Jungle for the past few days... didn`t spend as long there as I had originally planned. It was an interesting experience (note the subdued tone) but I definitely wouldn`t have been able to spend any more time there. First of all, it was a nightmare to get to and to get back from... a 26 hour off road bus ride where, once again I got shaken to shit, followed by what turned out to be a 10 hour putt-putt boat trip up the Rio Tampopata.

The place was theoretically a research centre, but in practice it was a family home out in the middle of nowhere run by this moody British bird and her nice (but incomprehensible) Peruvian husband... they take on paying "volunteers" (oxy-what) who they then put to work (fairly hard shit as well, none of this dancing around collecting butterflies lark...). You only had to do three hours work a day, but in the heat of the Jungle it was fairly hardcore. Work ranged from digging a pond to gardening to babysitting their admittedly cute kid. Naturally, all the girls got off with the babysitting (although I don`t think that was all peaches and cream either), and all the guys had to do everything else, which basically boiled down to digging holes all day.

After work, we would go for a swim in a little stream and then take a siesta or walk around in the rain forest. There were only ever about three or four other people there... always rotating... and the atmosphere was subdued. Everyone either read or slept and we all lived for the meals... not because they were haute cuisine but rather because it was something to do...!

Got to see quite a bit of wildlife though... the Peruvian husband took a liking to me (cos I was the only one who had any iota of what he was rabbiting on about) so he showed me all the wildlife... rats the size of dogs, cayman, more capibara, tarantulas, (lethal) bullet ants, porcupines, monkeys, snakes and a few other random jungle inhabitants.

Anyway, when the opportunity came up to go back to civilisation on a taxi boat, after eight days, I jumped at it (figuring that my time would be better spent in Cuzco, or Colombia, or Limerick, or anywhere else on the face of the planet). That was quite the experience though. The journey back took about 11 hours because they stopped everywhere to pick up everyone´s "home pwoduce" to bring back to the town... So we were inundated with an unbelievable amount of bananas, papayas, tomatoes and a million weird fruits and veg that I don`t know. Every time we stopped and filled up, I said to myself: "at least that will be the last stop", thinking one banana more would surely result in sinking... but no, they kept on going and by the time I arrived in the town I was sitting on a papaya throne with bananas on my lap. There was a German guy on the boat with me and we got into some good chats with the locals... so as uncomfortable as it was, it was a great experience... (when tourist boats passed - with 110 HP engines - they slowed down and everyone took photos of us, before ripping off again and leaving us to bob dangerously in their wake... was interesting to be on the receiving end of all those lenses for once... the locals must feel like monkeys in a zoo!)

Its funny they way they try to sell stuff to you here. If you`re not sure what something is and you want to confirm it, they will confirm it, no matter how wrong you are. This may sound stupid, but I thought I was buying tomatoes and oranges from this women off the street and I said to her: Is that a tomato and Is that an orange, and she assured me they were exactly that. It turned out to be passion fruit and a crazy assed (see fucked up) apple. I got the impression, if I were to point at a cabbage and say: "Is that a train journey to Lima", they would say yes and try to sell it to you the cabbage at the price of a train journey to Lima. (And you`d be quite disappointed when you sit on your cabbage and it doesn`t start moving in the direction of Lima... hehe...an amusing mental picture).

So when I got back to Cuzco, I went out on the piss... and now I´m waiting for the train to Macchu Picchu where tomorrow morning I will gander around these famous ruins...

Click here for photos of the Jungle... (please note that the photos whose names begin with "I" are not mine but were taken by a friend and fellow traveller - Moritz - click here for his homepage).

Part of the reason I came back from the jungle early was when I was out there (with so much free time to ponder "stuff"), I realised how little time I have left. I always thought that I had loads of time (eight months obviously being never-ending), but now I have just over two and half months left, and to do what I want to do before I´m sucked back into reality, I need to put the pedal to the metal as they say.

On a more sombre note, I am currently engaged in job applications so that I`ll have some kind of cash flow when I get back to the "Old World". Haven´t even thought about applications in a long time (I used to be a pro), but now when I sit down to write a covering letter, I get shivers down the back of spine... I stare at the screen for five minutes before checking out lonelyplanet.com and typing up imaginary itineraries for future travels... (my most recent crazed idea was a five month tour from Istanbul down the Arabian peninsula and back up through North Eastern Africa to Marrakesh).

Annnnnnnyyyyyywaaaaaayyyyyyy, this post is already far too long... I´m sure no-one`s even reading any more... I could say what I like here and no-one would know... I´m a Communist, ha, only joking... On a more serious note I think harry potter and Dan brown both suck the big one...!

Right, signing off until an update after Macchu Picchu with loads of spiritual, hippie "weren`t-they-a-fantastic-civilisation" crap... (although they couldn`t even read!)...

Smellyalater,

Conor

Catastrophe

Oh yeah, and I thought that I should share my recent bad luck (in fact, the first hiccup of my trip): I lost the frickin´ recharger for my camera... f&*k, bolli%, sh1Te

I don´t even know where I lost the b@$Trd, it just wasn´t in my bag one day... I thought that maybe I left it in one of the hostels, so I rang up all the old ones but no joy... I´m pretty sure that is wasn´t knicked cos it wouldn´t really be of any use to anyone!

The problem is that no-one has a Casio Exilim EX-Z50 (which, by the way, is an absolutely fantastic piece of photographic machinery and which I consider more important to me than several of my body organs - not that one though!)... and the batteries are unique to it and it can only be recharged in its own charger unit... so its a bit of a disaster!

Luckily, today (after having asked every gringo in every hostel for the past week) I found someone with the same camera so I managed to charge both my batteries with his charger... This will (just about) do me for my month in the Jungle if I turn off the screen and use the viewfinder (a technical regression of seismic proportions - paramount to shaving with a kitchen knife)...

Anyway, hopefully I´ll survive until Lima, where I can get another one.

Dinero Management

Buenos dias mis amigos... I´ve arrived in Peru, more specifically in Cusco, the ancient capital of the Incas. Been here about five or six days and its a great place. I´ve got to tell you the truth, but I was a little bit apprehensive about Peru. When I encountered travellers coming from Peru, I frequently felt that they were quite negative about the country, especially its many touristy places (i.e. Cusco especially). Having enjoyed Bolivia and the company of the Bolivian people so much, I was afraid that Peru might be a bit of a downer... I heard stories of locals jumping into your frame when you took a picture and then demanding cash for it afterwards... about being ripped off left right and centre and about a general extortionist attitude of the localstowards foreigners.

I am thrilled to say that so far my fears have been completely misplaced. Although Peru is much more developed than Bolivia, Cusco especially being a significant hub on the Gringo trail (grace a Macchu Picchu), and the locals here are much better adapted to make the best of a thriving tourist industry, I find them pleasent and chatty and open to foreigners. Sure, they come up to you asking you to take a photo, or to buy something, but I think I have a very convincing first rejection that sends them walking immediately (as opposed to hounding you for hours)...

What follows is Conor´s guide to avoid getting ripped off and for getting value for money: (rules in no particular order of importance)

• Rule 1: Knowledge is power. First of all, if you do want a product of a service, then try to ask a gringo who has already done or bought it to tell you how much they paid and whether they felt they got good value for money. I.e. get an idea of the actual price before you approach the local seller... it gives you a significant advantage... you can react to his prices in a much more meaningful way.
• Rule 2: Don´t guarantee your custom. No prices are displayed anywhere and people generally make up prices on the spur of the moment depending on how much they think they can get away with. So before expressing any kind of interest, always ask the price (i.e. don´t put yourself in a position where you consume something without knowing how much it is, or that you let the seller know that you simply must buy something... let them think that you´re browsing or comparing prices... even if your purchase is already certain).
• Rule 3: Remember that all prices are flexible... the existence of a menu , price list or other form of formalised pricing does not mean that prices are set in stone... frequently if you say to people "Listen, what´s your bottom line for X, Y, Z?" then they will give it to (again, showing them that your custom is not guaranteed is always good... in a restaurant for instance, look at the menu before sitting down, choose (or just make up) what you want and go for a good price while standing... only then do you sit down!)
• Rule 4: Be chatty and friendly with people before you purchase, i.e. "buen dia amigo, como te vas" etc... if they like you, it´s less likely that they will rip you off...
• Rule 5: One chance. If looking for something for which there are lots of alternative offers... (i.e. taxi from station into town or something) and someone offers you their product or service (Señor, señor... ciere taxi?), you turn to them and basically say "OK, buddy... I'll go with you if your first price is right... you have one chance at my custom". Now they think to themselves (in Spanish of course): "bollix, what´ll I do... should I try to fuck this gringo over... but if he already knows how much its worth, then I´ll definitely lose him... maybe I´ll just give him the right price so as to be sure of his custom" and they generally make the right decision and give you a decent price. At this point, I usually then take away about ten percent and counter offer... its almost always accepted and if the service is good, I put the ten percent back on as a tip... and I´ve found that this way, I almost always pay very close to the local price and not highly inflated (x2, x3, x15...) gringo prices. If they give you an inflated price, then shake your head in a disappointed manner, turn around and walk away.
• Rule 6: Offer direct purchase. When there are lots of alternative offers, say to people "Listen, I´ll sign up with you / go with you / buy from you right now, without hesitation,at a price of X... anything else and I´ll look around first"... sometimes that works too.
• Rule 7: Downright bribery. This, the "piece de la resistance" works only when you are paying to pass into something or through someone (museum, site, national park etc.)... you wait until the ticket seller is on their own and you approch them to ask the price... you put on your best shocked face and say "What, that much, that´s very pricey... why is it so pricey... I mean how about I pay you a little less... and to tell you the truth, I don´t really need a ticket, I just need to pass through you... ". I find that I pay between 10 and 50 percent of the ticket price (which for national parks can be very expensive). Obviously this is actually bribery, and if you don´t get a ticket, the cash goes straight into the ticket sellers back pocket, but I have no qualms with it, as the corruption down here will guarantee that a certain percentage of the ticket price will disappear into some politicians back pocket so you might as well give it to the ticket seller who gets paid pittance...
• Rule 8: Stick with good people. If people offer you value for money straight up and it is clear that they´re not ripping you off, then buy as many things that you can there (i.e. there´s only one place in Cusco that I buy bottled water from, because on my first day there, the lady charged me the same price for a bottle of water that she had charged to the local who was in front of me - this may seem trivial but is actually quite rare - so now I go back there for almost everything).
• Rule 9: Steer clear from bad people. If someone really tries to rip you off in a bad way, then that´t the way they are... turn around, walk away and even if they shout lower prices after you, even something that you would consider paying... don´t give them your custom!
• Rule 10: Mass is important: Try to do things as groups, or to buy in bulk... an increased amount of business helps your leverage on price...

This all sounds very scabby and miserly, but people will exploit if you don´t take care... You should also turn the tables on yourself and let your value-for-money paradigm work both ways, not only in your pockets favour... i.e. pay for the value you recieve, no more, but no less!

Also, don´t grind people down to a price where they make no margin... this is unfair! I don´t think you feel a sense of achievement if you have haggled some poor person down to a point where they are not making cash... If you decide to buy from a vendor, sometimes there should be an element of charity in your purchase... you have to distinguish that from a purely functional purchase in a store.

Anyway, enough rambligs on how to be miserish, I´m off to the jungle on Tuesday for a months work in an Eco Lodge called the Picaflor Research Centre (website here)... Its volunteerish and it will guarantee me a cheap month... Won´t have internet access so will not update v. often (if at all)...

Have spent my time in Cusco boozing and seeing some Inca stuff... but I will go to Macchu Picchu upon my return from the Jungle at which point I will tell you all about the Inca´s and all the crazy stuff they got up to... because it really is very interesting. I will also be able to talk more authoritavely on Peru and its people, so I look foward to that...

Will try to update with a small post before I go direction Jungle... que se vayan bien, compadres!

Your thoughts are required...

Been in Copacabana for the past few days (the less well known Bolivian one and not the crazy Brazilian one... Spanish-speaking South America is the rule... remember...).

Anyway, this place is by Lake Titicaca, a huge big lake in the Peruvian and Bolivian Andes and its the staging post for trips to the Lake´s two main islands, Isla del Sol and Isla de la Luna...

I´m just back from two nights on Isla del Sol and it was absolutely fantastic... it´s obvious where the island gets its name from, because there´s one thing that you can´t miss when you´re there, you have the sun beating down on you from the moment its rises to the moment it sets... got sunburned on my ears... which is a bit of a first!

On the first night I hiked (something else that can´t be avoided on this island) to a less-visited town on the east coast, where I met a french couple and we had a lovely meal of fresh trout followed by great craic around a campfire... I travelled around the rest of the island with them for the next day and half (Yvan and Valerie... click here for their blog - pour les francophones) and we had a couple more trout and perch meals and generally enjoyed ourselves around campfires with beer and music (the former being a permanent travelling companion, the latter a rare treat). You can find pictures of the island here.

Anyway, I´m back on the mainland now and am having another intellectual epiphany that I thought I would share with you without being a ponsy fucker... I´ve been reading a book of JP Sartre´s plays, "No Exit" being the main one (I´ve read the French version, "Huis Clos", before, but I´m understanding the English version a little bit better). It´s an illustration of Sartre´s concept of existentialism... Without being to arty-farty about the whole thing, let me explain this briefly:

Sartre reckons that the human essence (i.e. your essence or what it means to be you) is defined by the human existence (i.e. your life or the sum of its parts)... This means that essence follows existence, and that what it means to be you is defined by your life and what you do in it, and not that essence precedes existence, or that your essence has been designed by some higher being before your creation.

This gives each of us the ability to define ourselves and says that we must take full responsibility for our own persona's and not shove it off on some divinity that created us "for better or for worse"... Furthermore, Sartre says that it is solely the appearance (Conor´s interpretation: our actions) that create our essence from our existence and not anything hidden behind these appearances (i.e. our feelings???)

Anyway, I am l finding myself drawn to this point of view and would very much appreciate if we could start a moral debate on the issue. You can find more info about Sartre´s existentialism here and it would be great if you could use the comments function on this post (its not very difficult, its the one that says Comments on the bottom left of this post, then go to the bottom of the page to post yourself...).

Your thoughts are required here, so if you have the ability to think, then please express yourself... I´m new to this whole philosophy thing, so don´t be afraid to tell me that I´m talking through my h%$* (ahem, have had some complaints regarding language!!!)...

It´s about time this blog got interactive...

Going to Cuzco in Peru next, where hopefully I´ll see these Macchu Picchu ruins... I´m over the 30 day visa in Bolivia though, and am now officially an illegal immigrant, so if I don´t update again, it means that I´ve been sent to jail for ten years trying to cross the border (or else that I´ve had my hands cut off and I can´t type anymore - "What a disaster that would be", I hear you say)...

Peaceful La Paz

I promised you a La Paz dedicated post, and here she is in all her glory...

Although La Paz shares its status as capital with Sucre, the latter is purely administration and doesn´t capture Bolivia´s "essence" as much as the former. La Paz is a microcosm of the country as a whole, a vibrant, buzzing city set in spectacular surroundings.

As previously mentioned, the city is at about 3.600 metres above sea level, which makes for a somewhat surreal cityscape and climate. Set in a canyon in the Andes, the city sprawls up and down its walls, and in its background, the snowy peaks reveal the extremeness of this altitude. Like San Francisco, the cities streets are rarely level, and most of the time you find yourself either battling uphill in a breathless frenzy or stumbling downhill trying not to snot yourself on the many pathway hazards. These endless possibilities to trip up (potholes, uneven paving, no paving, kids playing, old women sitting on the ground with their "moichandice") require you to keep your eyes down when walking, but if you can manage to rip them away from the ground for a second, you´re almost always rewarded with a fantastic view of the urban sprawl and its Andean backdrop.

La Paz isn´t far off the size of Dublin, with a nudge over a million people (although estimates vary... statistics isn´t a priority in Bolivia). However, walking around during the day, you would swear its a lot more than that. Every square inch of the city is dedicated to some kind of commercial activity... and from early morning until late at night swarms of Bolivians move in and amongst each other going about their daily business in the most chaotic manner. The concept of a shop being limited to its four walls is not for La Paz... you buy and sell everything and anything on the street, the shops have to spill out onto the pavement and road to compete with the rest of the marketeers, or else they´ll be left in the recesses, unable even to be seen by any potential customer.

Different roads have different "moichendice" specialities: you can find your DIY road, your fresh fruit & veg road, your meat road, your toiletries road, your household cleaning equipment road, your catholic icon road, your car accessory road, your makeup road, etc, etc, etc... the list goes on...! Somewhere, buried in every stall you have your standard Bolivian women slumbering among her tightly packed and immaculately arranged choice of products. Every now and then you have one of the many support trolleys common to every road: fresh fruit juices, nuts and crisps, shoe cleaners (who all wear balaclavas for some reason). Frequently you have people standing in front of the stalls, shouting and screaming their heads off so that you buy their soap//DVDs/tomatoes/detergent. And things get a lot less organised than that... in any available spot that hasn´t been taken by some "official" market booth, you will always get someone who plonks themselves down and sells some randomly bizarre product (or mix of products) from a small rug.

Then there´s the transport: There are no trains or darts or trams or anything like that, if you want to get somewhere and you don´t want to walk, then you go by road. The roads are chockablock with a plethora of different four-(and two-) wheel vehicles, none of which appear to be in any way privately owned or operated.

First of all, there´s the official buses, these are usually old American school buses which have been painted in extravagant colours and dedicated either to some catholic icon or someone from Bolivia´s glorious past. These beasts trundle through the roads (actually, they are usually limited to about one lane with market booths at a hair´s breadth either side) spitting out diesel fumes into the faces of all they pass.

Then there´s the "truffi´s" or Japanese mini-vans. Each of these run different routes through the city and are essentially a private bus network... there´s one driver who appears to glue his hand to the horn every morning and then there´s usually some little teenager who hangs out the open door shouting out the destinations and the prices... When one of these passes you, you have to be very careful not to make eye contact with the "shouter" or else he´ll hop out and bail you into the van before you can say knickerbockerglory.

Finally, there´s the ever present normal taxi... I say "normal" but I think that to be a driver of these instruments of death you have to be certified pathologically homicidal. They´re all over the place... and whereas in Europe our taxi´s have the objective of picking people up and delivering them to their stated destinations... here they seem to aim to maim, and take delightful pleasure in ignoring anyone who actually wants to exchange money for private motorised propulsion! When you cross a street here, all the taxis seem to actually turn around and go for you... I swear to God, they completely deviate from their course, and speed up so as to hit you or one of your extremities if at all possible. And just to make this assault all the more petrifying, they beep their horns manically as they swerve to hit you...

I believe that I have survived here, only because I always pretend that I´m actually looking for a taxi... if you cross the road with your hand in the air... they´ll all do a runner, god forbid they might pick up a fair!

So all this motorised and commercial activity gives La Paz a loud buzz which rings in your ears when you lie in bed at night. It´s by the far the most dynamic city I´ve ever been to and a complete contrast to its tranquil capital-buddy, Sucre.

I´ve got to say that I love it though, its energy is inexhautible!

Tomorrow, I´ll wave goodbye to the murderous taxi drivers and sleepy marketeers, and I´m gonna make my way to Copacabana, a city on Lake Titicaca, right by the Peruvian border where my last look at Bolivia will be Lake Titicaca´s Isla del Sol.

Buenos noches, compadres...

Itinerary

Am bored today, so have drawn up a map of where I have been and where I plan to go.

By the way, I don´t know if I have mentioned it yet, but I have now booked my flight home. I will fly from Caracas on the 13th of December, and will somehow have to make ends meet up until then (Donations to my travel budget are always heartily accepted by the way - in case you thought that I might be offended by such).

The Man Conor

back in La Paz after a short plane journey in a little 12 seater... Got some great views. From the Jungle (at about 500m a.s.l.), you basically just climb with the plane until you get to La Paz. The scenery is great from the plane, the lush jungle landscape turning mountainous and barren until La Paz appears sprawled in a valley. I had the pleasure of a London lass´s company on this journey who filled me in on life in that British metropole that I am considering moving to upon my return to old Europe.

Have uploaded some photos today. Follow this link for photos of the Junlge and this link for the Pampas.

The plan for the next few days is to finally do a humungous clear-out on my bag and reduce my 25 kilos to 16/17 at the most (by ditching most of my cold-weather gear). I´m gonna do some souvenir shopping too. For some reason, I always regard all souvenirs as tacky shite and steer clear of them. The only time I ever buy anything, is when I´m with friends and they force me to, and then I´m always thrilled with my purchase... (bought a machete in the Jungle for instance, which I now gaze upon with manly pride every time I see it strapped to the side of my backpack - declaring to any potential mugger that messing with yours truly could unleash the wrath and fury of hell upon them) so now I´m gonna take advantage of La Paz´s cheapness and do some serious souvenir shopping. I´m gonna send my newly acquired knicks and knacks home, along with all superflous clothes and at Xmas I´ll pawn them off on my family...hehe! I´m sure that Mumsi would really love one of those dried llama foetuses to hang up in the kitchen...

Anyway, in the last week, I´ve read some good classics in my quest to get up to speed in English literature: first of all Robinson Crusoe (by Daniel Dafoe) was a good read; I also read On The Road (Jack Kerouac), a fantastic travel novel which apparantly captured the beat generation of the American road (I had given this book a try about two years ago but couldn´t get beyond the first two chapters... however, this time, it was an absolute pleasure); finally, I read Mary Shelley´s Frankenstein, which is actually quite the tradgedy and made me feel sorry for the poor dejected "wretch". I now have a small library of about ten books that I have read and I am trying my best to swap them with other travellers.

Thats it for the time being... will continue soon with some Bolivian insights because I am finding that this country and its people are a significant discovery!

Grapefruit Juice and Hammocks

this place is great... I´m pretty sure that its about as close as you can get to paradise. And I´m doing absolutely nothing... This is what my daily routine has become since I came back from the Jungle (oh this is going to kill all you investment bankers out there):

• 8.00am - Rise and shine for brekkie. Brekkie consists of a plethora of different fresh fruit juices (mango, pineapple, orange, grapefruit) and a continental style bread and jam with the occassional scrambled eggs.
• 9.00am - Séjour to my hammock from where I watch the world going by and read my book for about two or three hours
• Midday - Siesta time... have a little doze for an hour or two, after which I usually have a fresh grapefruit juice to clean out my mouth.
• 2.00pm - After my grapefruit juice, I force myself to walk the block and half to the pool where I lie in the sun, swim, read my book or doze until the sun goes down... (I usually have a tuna sambo for my lunch here)
• 7.00pm - check my emails (and reality) on my way back from the pool and then shower and change into my evening attire (which must be long-sleeved and long-legged due to mosquitos)
• 8/9.00pm - Have a beer or two talking to people in the hammock area, or else go out for dinner. Am usually in bed by about 10 or 11.00pm, after a brief mosquito hunt in my room.
• Sometimes I´ll go out for a late one and the next day´s activities will all be pushed back due to sleeping in.

Yesterday was a bit of a shock to the system though, at about 2.30pm it started getting windy and overcast and at 3.15pm it began to lash rain. In the dry season it doesn´t rain often here, but when it does, boy does it rain... it came down in bucketfuls and you couldn´t walk two feet without getting completely drenched (you know that rain that feels like you´re standing under a power shower).

I decided to inaugurate my poncho (which my brother, Gavin, lent me but which I haven´t had occassion to use yet - and which has been very heavy to lug around and needed justification of its presence). I donned it and walked around town in the rain (being deprived of my usual poolside chill-out). The water streamed down the sides of the road almost at knee-level. Down by the river, you could see the level rising by the minute, it was incredible.

Anyway, I´m flying (yes, flying) back to La Paz tomorrow when I must really get in touch with reality and do a big clear out on my rucksack... (get rid of cold clothes etc.).

In other news, I am half-deaf since yesterday and am having my ears cleaned out tomorrow (a wax blockage, which I am convinced is because of my use of those cotton ear bud thingys...).

Have burned all my photos onto CD and will load them up when I get to fast and cheap internet in La Paz.

Ciao amigos

King of the Swingers

So I´m back from the jungle... well, I´m actually still in the Jungle, but I´m back from my Jungle experience trips... I have to keep this post short and sweet cos the Internet prices here are pretty scandalous...

I am in a town called Rurrenabaque in the Beni region of Bolivia. It´s a blood-curdling 18 hour drive north from La Paz. Logging and timber was the main industry here until they discovered that they could charge tourists to take them for walks... and whats more, they could charge them in the mighty dollar... so tourism is the name of the game here. But I´ve got to say that its a very charming place and so far, it appears to be a fine example of a well-managed and regulated tourist industry.

There are a million tour agencies and the most popular trips are three day trips to the Jungle (or Rainforest) and the Pampas (the surrounding wetlands)... I did both!

I went to the Rainforest with Helen and we had a great three days... our guide was seventy years old and his name was Innocencio and we had a cook as well. We drove up the river for about two hours and then hiked inland for about half an hour until we got to our camp: a basic set-up with some tables, chairs and a couple of beds (if you can call suspended timber wrapped in mosquito mesh a bed)... beautiful setting though, just beside the river. In the dry season the river shrinks to a bit of a stream and its always crossible by stepping stones, but you can imagine the torrents that must prevail in the wet season. The river plain was great just to sit by and to read your book or just to relax... there was the rush of the stream among the rocks and butterflys dancing around all about you... quite idyllic indeed! (pic here)

Every day we went for walks in the Jungle. Sometimes, the paths were well-maintained and frequently used, but sometimes we went on the Jungle equivalent of off-piste where you really have to lay into the vines and plants with your machete if you want to get anywhere... and its very demanding work...If a path isn´t used for a couple of weeks, then the jungle starts to reclaim it and you have to fight for it back... Luckily though, we had out septagerian innocence to reclaim it for us... He also stopped every now and then and told us about some of the trees, vines and other plants... a lot of them have medicinal purposes and there are quite a few novelty trees which so some kind of song or dance which makes them exiting (for instance theres a tree whose roots just sit on top of the soil and it walks along looking for water with them)...

Surprisingly, there aren´t an amazing amount of animals in the Jungle... they tend to concentrate in the surrounding wetlands (or pampas)... We saw butterflys and frogs and some monkeys and lots of insects though! (Pics of Jungle here)

After the Jungle, Helen went back to La Paz and I did a three-day tour of the Pampas. I got a bit fucked around by the agency that I had planned to do it through, so in the end, I had to demand that they sell me on to another agency, which eventually they did. With the new agency, I got a great group of six others from Holland, Belgium, France and Ecuador... and we had a great guide, Hector.

For the Pampas, you take a three-hour arse-numbing dirt-road trip to the a wetlands river and then a three-hour boat ride up along it, during which you are bombarded with a variety of different animals and birds... We spent the first hour ooing and awing at alligators and caiman (alligator-like but bigger and less friendly)... and then Hector stops the boat and tells us to get out and have a swim... I really thought that he was taking the complete piss, but then he gets his kit off and hops in...

No sooner is he in the water, then he is surrounded by.... ..... .... wait for it..... you´re thinking alligators right... no, he´s surrounded by pink freshwater dolphins... After many assurances on his part that the alligators and caiman won´t come near us (and nip at our toes as we swim), we gingerly make for the water so as to not miss this experience... I can´t believe that I actually swam in the Jungle in sight of an alligator on the banks... (mum, I think i can authoritively say that this would of been your personal hell!)... But it was worth every second of it... the dolphins were friendly and nipped in and around us at their leisure...

Our camp was significantly more developped than its jungle equivalent and we had good mosquito protection and you could even buy beer there... After a good lunch (the food is good on these organised trips), we went upriver on the boat and got off and went trekking in the pampas for hours... When we got to real swampland, the hunt for an anaconda began... The guide took me on as his sidekick and we circled all the swamps (him one way, me another) looking for anacondas. For me, it was the highlight of the three days, quite the adrenalin rush, wading through knee-deep swamp, actually hoping to see an anaconda (and praying that I wouldn´t stand on one...).

At one point, something big splashed three or four times in the water just in front of me... it was too big to be anything but an alligator or an anaconda ... but its splash appeared to have a warning purpose... so I duly began to shit myself and made ridiculous gesticulations to Hector to get his ass over here cos I wasn´t going any closer to this creature of the deep (whatever it was)...

He came over quicksmart and plunged his hands into the water at the spot indicated by yours truly while I quivered in my boots... unfortunately (not sure about this) there was nothing there and whatever had splashed me in warning had done a proverbial runner... So we didn´t see any anacondas but it was still great looking for them..

Apart from the anaconda hunting, we also did piranha fishing, nightime alligator spotting and a plethora of other tours... we saw lots of animals: capibara (looks like a cross between a pig and a mouse), kingfishers, owls, a variety of monkeys, billions of alligators and caiman, turtles, herons, condors, hawks and some more dolphins...

Every night we had some beers or singani (bolivian spirit) and played cards or walked around.... it was a fantastic three days and when we got back here to Rurrenebaque we went out for a last dinner together and then had a cocktail drinking contest in the local gringo bar... where I got slagged for being the only one not to catch a piranha (although I did pull out a killer sardine)... (Pics of Pampas here)

Anyway, now that all those trips are over, I´m going to relax here in lovely Rurrenabaque for a couple of days before I go back to the chillier highlands of La Paz....

I´ll try to burn my photos onto a CD in the next few days and see if I can upload some of them for you...

Hasta la proxima...