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Lost City and Paradise Found In Tayrona – Part II

12 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Beaches, Hikes

Hiking in to Tayrona

Hiking in to Tayrona

I last left you jumping off the bus on my return journey to Santa Marta after completing the Lost City jungle trek.  I was tired, sweaty, hot, and without adequate cash or ID to get into Tayrona National Park.  I was winging it, big time.

Fortunately, I at least had my PADI Open Water ID card on me.  I have no idea why.  I managed to bs my way through the identification checkpoint with the police and the park entrance security and secured my seat on a small minivan that would take folks to the trail head for the hour or so walk I had into the park to the first camping area, Arrecifes.

The beach at Arrecifes

The beach at Arrecifes

I was feeling elated at my decision to add this adventure to my Lost City trek.  I told myself that it would just be a little more effort before I could be showered and resting in a nice hammock on the beach.  Everyone had said that the hike itself was completely flat, so how hard could it be?

I soon adopted a new little group of travelers: a Belgian, a Turk, and a Croat (I actually don’t remember their names…this happens a lot when you’re traveling.  Sometimes, you can meet a person and talk with them for days before asking their name) who I convinced to take the shuttle with me to the trailhead.  It was already the magic hour and I pointed out that if they walked, they wouldn’t make it to Arrecifes by nightfall.

Sunset

Sunset

The hike itself ended up being a little more challenging than I had expected.  The views made up for it though.  The beaches, with the sky turning golden at dusk, fringed with palms and rocks out to sea – was breathtaking.  We found a lump of ice, discarded on the trail, strangely, and got some fun pics wiping ourselves down with it.  We were also lucky enough to spot a Capybara running across the trail, it was just too quick to catch a photo of it.

On arrival at Arrecifes, we were relieved to find a “backpacker” type campsite next to the rather fancy site that was charging 400,000 pesos for cabins.  We secured 4 hammocks for 13,000 each (about 7 bucks) grabbed some cold beers and headed to Arrecifes beach to catch the sunset.

Hammocks!

Hammocks!

It was spectacular and I was giddy with delight at being there.

After a cold shower and a delicious meal of garlic prawns and coconut rice, I was so ready for sleep and excited/nervous about my very first entire night’s sleep in a hammock.

It was surprisingly comfortable, and I was soon fast asleep.

The following day I awoke early and eager to press on for another hour’s walk to Cabo San Juan – the quintessential “paradise photo” tropical beach.  So, as my friends were just stirring from their sleep, I’d already dressed and breakfasted and promised to meet up with them once they got there.

Beach at Cabo San Juan

Beach at Cabo San Juan

Off I set down the beach enjoying the wonderful breeze and eager to get in the ocean (the beach at Arrecifes was too dangerous for swimming)  When I arrived, I was quite impressed with the beauty.  The sand was white, the surf a sapphire blue, and everywhere you looked, gringoes were frying themselves in the sun with something fruity to drink in their hands.

I laid out for hours, alternating reading my book with taking swims in the ocean.  My friends’ never showed (?!!) so I made some new ones under the cabana while ordering some lunch.  Thankfully, a couple of guys acquiesced to my paying for their meal on my credit card, allowing me to get some needed cash for my bus ride home.

Cabo San Juan

Cabo San Juan

IMG_0774 IMG_0780Around 3pm, I decided it was time to hike out.  Not ever being one for the easy option, I elected to hike up and over the mountain ridge to an alternate “entrance” on the main highway, instead of simply following my route in to the park.

Asking several personnel about how far this hike was, I quickly rejected all answers as they bordered upon the absurd therefore rendering them pointless to consideration.  One man at the “Information” counter stated that it was at least 4 and a 1/2 hours to the other entrance, but when I enquired as to how many kilometres it was, he stated “around 30”.

Yeah, he was smart.

So, off I set with a vague hope that the guy had vastly overestimated the time, or else I’d be hiking out of the jungle alone in the dark.  I second-guessed my decision a couple of times, and then followed the signs to Pueblito.

Pueblito was like a mini-Lost City.  Some ancient ruins of the Tayrona people.  The trail getting here is at least sign-posted and was quite hairy, involving lots of scrambling over massive boulders.  I was absolutely and completely drenched with my own foul sweat.  I was disgusting.  And it was so hot.

But  I was loving it, and there was no-one on the trail with me.

A short way into the hike I spotted a poison-dart frog.  It was exciting because I’ve only ever seen these super brightly colored amphibians at the aquarium before.

A little later on my heart stopped and came up into my throat as I heard blood curdling animal screaming….what could only be two large mammals attacking one another.

And they were close – whatever it was, was within 50 feet of where I was standing.

What the hell was it?  My pulse quickened as I grabbed at a long branch thinking it might offer some protection should this vicious animal choose to turn its anger upon me, while simultaneously cursing myself for choosing to embark upon this solitary traipse through the Colombian jungle at near nightfall.

Pueblito

Pueblito

Just then, a capuchin monkey appeared overhead.  This one was tiny but it did let out a little cry which leads me to conclude that the raucous I was hearing was indeed monkeys.  I pressed on, quickly.

The hike just kept going and going and the hour was getting later and later.  I have to say, I was feeling a little nervous and foolish.  What if I twisted my ankle?  I’d have to spend the night alone here in the jungle.  I treaded carefully, passing several indigenous villages before, at long last, I heard traffic coming from the main highway.

I was safe.

Almost immediately upon emerging, I flagged down a bus heading to Santa Marta.  Initially relieved by the freezing air conditioning, I soon realized that I was going to catch my death if I didn’t change my shirt immediately as I was soaked to the skin.  Luckily I had my long sleeve night shirt to hand and I strategically switched and tried in vain to curl up in my ice cold seat.

I thought my adventure was over, but alas, it had only just begun.  This bus was actually bound for Baranquilla and dropped me off at some non-descript location with an equally non-descript shouted instruction to get on another bus with the Colombian classic “Por A Ca!”

I got on this bus and asked if it went to the centre of town which was responded to with the typical mumble and head shake and subsequent general ignoring.  I was not recognizing anything that we were passing,

Capuchin Monkey

Capuchin Monkey

I decided to get out and try my luck with just grabbing a cab.

It took nearly ten cab drivers to find one that knew where the “Drop Bear Hostel” was located.  I was so relieved and exhausted upon arrival that I didn’t even eat dinner.

It had been a great day.

The Lost City and Paradise Found in Tayrona – Part I

08 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Archaeological Sites, Culture, Hikes, Trekking

Hot and Sweaty in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta

Hot and Sweaty in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta

Cartegena had prepared me somewhat for the temperatures and humidity of Santa Marta.  But I was about to embark on a 4 day trek in the jungle where I would find a new brand of suffering from the heat, one that had bugs, mosquito repellant, sunscreen and sweat all mixed into one disgusting mass that would cascade off one’s body in uncontrollable puddles.  In addition, 4 days of gross would not end up being enough for me and I sought more punishment by actually combining what is typically two trips into one – hiking through and staying in Tayrona on my return journey from Ciudad Perdida, aka The Lost City.

The actual Lost City is a set of archaeological ruins from a city built by the Tayrona people in approximately 800 AD.  It was only discovered in the 1970’s by a team of explorers searching the hills of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta in search of gold.  What has now been re-constructed is about 600 stone ‘platforms’ that formed the basis for their sacred city in the jungle.

Misty mountains in the morning

Misty mountains in the morning

There were at least 30 or so individuals starting the hike the same day I did, and it became quickly obvious that this was not going to be as easy from a physical standpoint as I had been expecting.  These were long, arduous uphill slogs, river crossings and often marching through clouds of thick dust that kicked up and coated your skin with white powder.  The vegetation was lush and beautiful and often gave way to impressive vistas of mountains covered in thick trees as far as the eye could see.

Our First Camp

Our First Camp

Along the trail, we encountered several villages of the indigenous people who still live in this valley – The Kogi.  Our guides talked us through the Kogi traditions and ways of life which were totally fascinating, albeit slightly disturbing as well.  These people still live in huts made from tree bark and all the men and women wear white dress-like garments and keep their hair long, only parted in the middle.  Sometimes it’s difficult to distinguish the males from the females except for their cultural trademarks: women wear multiple colorful beads, and the men carry a “mochilla’ – a colorful purse that contains their “gord” of power.

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Kogi people and their villages

Kogi people and their villages

Gord of power? – you may ask.  Well, the Kogi men officially become so on their 18th birthdays.  At this time, they are brought to one of the Shamens of the village to receive their gord and instruction on how to use it.  Essentially, the hollow gord is used to mix crushed coca leaves with a type of sea shell powder that they then stick a type of spoon into, then lick, and continually do this from morning till night.  The powder and coca leaves combine to form a potent drug that keeps the men alert and full of vigor.  It is essentially one of the old processes that helped form the idea for cocaine production.

Jumping into a swimming hole

Jumping into a swimming hole

Oh!  The men at 18 also get to spend a few days with the Shamens’ wife and she teaches them the art of sex.  Which I think is actually a pretty cool tradition.  However, even after couples are married (very soon after this “induction”) they do not get to sleep in the same hut.  Women and men have their own huts and sleep separately.  All “relations” occur outside in the open where they can be blessed by Mother Earth.

And I’m sure Mother Earth also blesses with mosquito bites.

Beautiful Tree

Beautiful Tree

Unfortunately for them, the women are not allowed to partake of the coca leaf mixture, nor even the coca leaves themselves.  No, they must be content to do the work of growing the coca plants and harvesting them for the men.  And, of course, having lots of babies starting at the age of 15.  I saw so many young girls with babies strapped to their backs, fronts, and toddlers running in front of them.

So, yeah, fascinating culture to have the privilege of observing during our foray into the jungle.

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The Main Mirador over the city

The Main Mirador over the city

Each day we walked between four and seven hours and generally we had the chance to stop at a swimming hole for a refreshing dip both once during the hike, and then once we got to camp.  I usually was so hot and filthy that I just jumped in still wearing all of my clothes, happily walking in them still wet for hours after.

Each camp had stacks of bunks with mosquito nets and various quality of mattress ranging from “like sleeping on concrete” to “bowed in the middle”.  It was still a higher standard than I was expecting and since it was surprisingly cool in the evening, I was able to get a decent amount of sleep.

Camp with the bunk beds in the background

Camp with the bunk beds in the background

Evenings consisted of interpretive talks, socializing with the other travelers on the trek, and reading by headlamp.  It was a relaxing time, especially after a nice dip in the cold river.

Unfortunately, the morning of our climb up 1200 stairs to the Lost City itself, I found I had come down with yet another mystery virus/stomach bug.  I was proud that I made it up those damn steps, but once I got there, had very little energy for really taking in the monuments themselves.

The walk to our third camp that afternoon was very difficult.  I was throwing up and had a high fever and couldn’t keep food down.  But I still had to walk, and the walk was not easy.  Luckily, I’d learned the mind over matter technique that worked for me when I was really sick in Peru, and I at least didn’t have to contend with altitude on top of the heat and being ill.

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Other scenes from the trail

Other scenes from the trail

I awoke on our last day with an appetite and feeling far more like myself again.  The walk out was long but manageable and lunch awaiting us at our jeep pick-up point was well deserved.

IMG_0572I tried again to convince some of the others to jump out of the return vehicles and come with me directly to Tayrona, but unfortunately, people said they were too tired and nobody was feeling as adventurous as I was.

Welcome to Colombia – Getting Caffeinated in Coffee Country

23 Wednesday Jul 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Hikes, Mountains, Travel Days

Hammock time at Hacienda Venezia

Hammock time at Hacienda Venezia

I opted  to fly across the border, this time from Quito to Cali.  I had stayed the night in a motel close to the airport after flying back from The Galapagos and managed to get laundry done, bags re-packed, and, for the first time since June 4, I watched TV in English including my beloved BBC World News.  Incidentally, at the airport, I ran into the group of four whom I’d met at The Secret Garden in Cotopaxi and was planning to climb Cotopaxi with.  They told me that the weather that night had been an all-out sub zero blizzard and they’d been forced to turn around after only two hours.  While I felt badly for them, it was somewhat of a relief to me and helped soften the blow of getting injured at the worst moment.

Charming Salento

Charming Salento

My flight went smoothly, stopping briefly in Esmeraldas to go through immigration.  I met two Canadian girls from Vancouver and Victoria, Gisele and Heather, who also happened to have the same travel plans as I did – to skip Cali and catch a bus to Salento: a pretty little village in the heart of the coffee region that also offered great hiking in the Valle de Cocoro.

Jeeping it to the Valle De Cocora

Jeeping it to the Valle De Cocora

Valle De Cocora

Valle De Cocora

We got on the same bus, being assured that it was an express (I was informed the journey should be no more than 2 to 2 1/2 hours) bus and that it had air conditioning.  Once again, the consistency with which unsuspecting (well, in my case I now just expect it) tourists are blatantly lied to in order to make a sale was achieved.  Not only was the journey much longer, not 2, not 3, but 4 and a 1/2 hours…but there was no a/c, AND NO WINDOWS.  The only source of ventilation was the bus door, which they only opened intermittently as police checkpoints had to be assured that the bus was practicing passenger safety by having the door shut.

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Crossing one of the suspension bridges

Crossing one of the suspension bridges

It was like  sitting in a slow cooker.  A new kind of torture.  Not a good start to my first day in a new country.

Luckily, the 3 of us left the bus together and were able to find a dorm all together at The Plantation House Hostel. We wearily collapsed after having a wonderful meal together at a small restaurant owned by an American who moved here after working for Microsoft in Redmond for over ten years!

IMG_0390 IMG_0386The following day we embarked on a 12 km hike up the Valle De Cocora in the Parque National de los Nevados to see the famous Wax Palms.  Wax Palms are the tallest palm trees in the world and seem so tall as if to be unstable.  In true South American style (no regard to safety) we rode a jeep to the trailhead, standing on the bumper and hanging on for dear life as it careened along winding mountain roads.

Super fun.

I was happy to discover that my hip only gave me a little bit of trouble – though I am paying for it now several days later as it is still aching daily 😦  The valley itself was a lush green, with a rushing stream, thick jungle vegetation and these numerous rickety Indiana Jones-like suspension bridges that we had to cross as we slogged uphill through the mud.

Death by Peanut Butter Brownie

Death by Peanut Butter Brownie

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Hummingbirds

Hummingbirds

At the half-way point, we had a welcome break at a Hummingbird center where they offered us hot chocolate and a giant wedge of cheese (strange combo, but delicious) for the cost of admission.  The three of us sat there happily, watching the eight different species of hummingbird, munching away on our goodies which included the best peanut butter brownies I’ve tasted that had been acquired that morning at the breakfast joint Brunch.

After another uphill slog, we found ourselves at the Mirador and looked down over the valley full of these towering trees.  It was beautiful and many photos were snapped.

Wax palms

Wax palms

IMG_0485I was happy to be back in the mountains and I couldn’t believe how overjoyed I was in this environment, as compared to being in The Galapagos.

Our day ended perfectly with a nice wander around the picturesque old village, a refreshing cold shower, and then goodies and a movie, in ENGLISH, at the same place we’d had breakfast.  A coffee shop with its own private in-house mini cinema!  I was in heaven, drinking my smoothies and noshing on quesadillas.

Town Square

Town Square

I managed to convince the girls the following day to join me in a stay at one of the Haciendas that dot this landscape and indulge in a few more days of blissful relaxation in the countryside.  We ended up taking a bus to Manizales and stayed at the Hacienda Venezia which was exactly as I’d imagined it to be: white colonial main building set in lush tropical gardens, coffee bushes surrounding the property on hillsides as far as the eye could see, peacocks roaming the property (ok, I hadn’t envisioned that detail,) hammocks on a wrap-around veranda, and a lovely swimming pool for dipping in and getting cooled off from the afternoon sun.

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Espresso time at Hacienda Venezia

Espresso time at Hacienda Venezia

The idyllic Hacienda Venezia

The idyllic Hacienda Venezia

It was the perfect location for a few days of nothing.  And getting jacked up on espresso, which was available free of charge anytime you wanted.

Cotopaxi and What’s Just Around the Riverbend

07 Monday Jul 2014

Posted by Anita in Ecuador, South America

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Climbing, Hikes, Mountains

Beautiful Cotopaxi

Beautiful Cotopaxi

While in Banos, I met a traveler who raved about a hostel that was situated within the Cotopaxi National Park. He said that it was in such a stunning setting, all meals included, and that I would be able to arrange my climb of the volcano from there. It sounded like a great recommendation, so after Saquisili, Lilian and I headed back to Latacunga to pick up our luggage and then immediately turned around and got the bus headed north to Machachi where I had arranged for a truck from the hostel to pick us up.

DSC02300The hostel itself has a pretty magical setting and we were lucky enough to arrive just as Cotopaxi herself emerged from nearly permanent cloud cover to show us her staggering beauty. There is an organic farm, guinea pigs on site, a hot tub, super comfortable main house with inviting fireplace and coffee and cake available anytime you want it (dangerous for me!)

The view from the hostel

The view from the hostel

Lilian and I were pretty content to be here and immediately jumped into the hot tub for some hearty singing before dinner which is served at the giant communal table. Sitting around the fire and talking with other travelers, playing cards, and writing my blog was how we relaxed away our evenings, together with a good glass of red wine.

The next day I was eager to see if I still had enough red blood cells from my Peruvian acclimatization to attempt Cotopaxi the following day. A Finnish traveler, by the name of Oto, was eager to join me on a summit attempt on the 5th. So we awoke on the 4th of July (a little sad being away from home and friends on this holiday after having hosted a party at my place for the last four years) and headed out to climb Volcan Ruminahui, which at 4722m would be a perfect re-acclimitization hike for me.

Volcan Ruminahui

Volcan Ruminahui

It was a blustery, colder day, and we all climbed wearing our hats, gloves and fleeces. This land surrounding the volcano is pretty stark and bare of trees, and it reminded me a little bit of the English moors. The ground was covered in wildflowers and the hillsides dotted with wild horses.

Lilian and I climbing

Lilian and I climbing

I was super pleased with how I felt during the 3 hour ascent. My legs were in great shape, and I didn’t really feel the altitude much at all. I was about as prepared for the climb as I could possibly have been on this trip thus far. Feeling great and egged on by my female co-hikers, we all stripped to the waist for a celebratory semi-naked summit shot. I’m super pleased with how the photos turned out – hope you agree.

Heading down, the weather turned and it snowed and sleeted on us as we descended a super tight, steep and muddy canyon. Having lost so much weight, my pants kept falling down and were developing a true ring of mud and sogginess at the bottom.  But it was a great climb and I was ready for my next challenge.

Steep Section, but feeling good

Steep Section, but feeling good

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. My first hurdle was that Oto changed his mind about climbing. So I was left with the option of climbing alone, for another $110, or delaying my climb till Sunday when a group of four from the hostel were planning on climbing. I really didn’t wish to delay because my cycle had decided to time itself ever so inopportunely for me once again, and dealing with feminine issues in a harness, on a rope team in the middle of the night at 5500m is not an ideal experience for anyone. Then, to add additional complication, I got an email that night from one of the agencies in Riobamba saying that a place had opened up in a group climbing Chimborazu the very next day – which had been my initial goal since it was the highest volcano in Ecuador, and it would have allowed me to beat my own personal record of climbing to 6022m (which you can read about here) It would have involved a 4 hour bus ride though to get to the starting point.

Heading down in the snow

Heading down in the snow

I had a pretty sleep-less night. The stress and emotional pain of events from the week before with regards to my life back in the States were really beginning to hit me and take a toll. I cried for several hours.

In the morning, Lilian was planning to leave by 11am so she could be in Quito in time to watch The Netherlands play Costa Rica in the World Cup. She wanted to go on a quick walk to the waterfall together so I agreed to join her – and hopefully make my final decision with her help. The walk was beautiful and much of it involved wading in rubber boots through a river. We giggled as we sang our favorite song again “Just around the Riverbend” because it seemed so appropriate to our location at that moment.

And then it happened.

“Just around the riverbend” can also refer to fate, or having your circumstances change and shift when you least expect them to. I think given my father and brother’s death last year, losing my job this Spring, and so recently having my heart broken again has re-slapped this truth in my face. It is all too much to bear. Just being in South America is proving to be very difficult for me emotionally as I am in the middle of a very profound cycle of grief. Somehow, shifting my pain from the emotional kind to the physical, by climbing a high altitude volcano, was what I’d convinced myself would help me cope with my grief.

Wildflowers

Wildflowers

Coming back down from the waterfall, Lilian and I somehow lost the trail. Lilian was becoming stressed out as she had a taxi leaving the hostel in 20 minutes. I saw what I thought was a trail heading up and to the left from the river. I walked over to it and saw that it involved quite a large and steep step up to join it. Cranking my left foot into a foot hold half way up, I grabbed at a branch with my right arm and began to pull myself up and onto the trail. What happened in the next two seconds felt like an eternity and it was as if I was observing myself from outside my own body.

At the top of Ruminahui - feeling my physical best...until the next morning

At the top of Ruminahui – feeling my physical best…until the next morning

The branch gave way and I found myself slipping backwards, my whole body ground up against the side of the hill, dirt and rocks scraping against my front. I was falling and there was nothing I could do about it. I landed in the river, and fell at an awkward angle feeling a seering pain through my right leg.  Lilian looked horrified and I assured her that I didn’t think anything was broken. She came over and helped me out of the water and I sat on a rock, assessing. My hip and thigh were throbbing and just moving the leg sent shockwaves of pain through to my brain. I’d somehow hyper extended my hip flexor. Badly.

Celebration

Celebration

And so ended my quest to climb any of the volcanoes in Ecuador.

I spent the rest of the day icing my hip and hobbling around the hostel trying to rest. I napped, read my book, blogged, cried, and chatted to some really nice and sympathetic travelers.

I leave for Quito in an hour, my grief now spread between my hip and my heart.

Hiking The Quilotoa Loop

05 Saturday Jul 2014

Posted by Anita in Ecuador, South America

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Hikes, Trekking, Villages

Lago Quilotoa - An extinct Volcano

Lago Quilotoa – An extinct Volcano

Lilian and I grabbed a bus heading to Quilotoa because we’d decided after much consideration to do the Quilotoa loop in the regular direction. A number of people in our hostel had elected to do the loop in reverse, arguing that the additional altitude would help them train for Cotopaxi. I personally didn’t think that an extra 600m of ascent would really make that big of a difference in my physical conditioning, and Lilian was quite happy to do the loop descending more than ascending.

Quilotoa lake itself is said to be one of the most beautiful locations in Ecuador. It is actually an extinct volcanic crater that’s filled with water, like Crater lake in Oregon. The loop itself is a rural hike through hillsides dotted with lots of Kichwa indigenous villages and farms.

Lilian at the main viewpoint area

Lilian at the main viewpoint area

By the time Lilian and I left the viewpoint area that was packed with day trippers, and headed west along the crater rim towards the village of Chugchilan, our destination for the first night, we had the trail to ourselves. We had rudimentary maps and a detailed description of the route and with a little luck, we intended to guide ourselves through the hike, despite having a number of “guides” try to convince us that we’d get lost and that it wasn’t safe for us to walk without them.

The views across the lake itself were beautiful, green hills set against the turquoise of the water. The ground was also covered with a variety of beautiful wildflowers. At 3800m, there was all-too-familiar thin air to breathe, but we were lucky with only a few clouds in the sky and some sunshine warming our skin.

Love this shot

Love this shot

The hike was relatively easy and passed through a few villages where we had some interactions with local children who squealed when we showed them photos we’d taken of them.

Suspension bridge on the way to Sigchos

Suspension bridge on the way to Sigchos

Arriving in Chugchilan, we walked into The Cloud Forest Hostel and were immediately greeted by the manager, who turned out to be the single most hospitable Ecuadorian I’d met to date. He told us that everyone was in the TV room watching the US play Belgium, so, despite my reluctance up to this point to watch the World Cup, I was more than happy to settle down on a couch with a beer and some chips after our long hike.

Cloud Forest Hostel

Cloud Forest Hostel

The hostel itself was absolutely lovely and was an incredible deal at $15 each for a private room, VERY hot shower, dinner, and breakfast. Our room had five beds, including a double up in a loft that you could reach via a step ladder. It had a sloping roof and a lovely triangle window and Lilian and I immediately loved it and decided to sleep here together because we had a higher likelihood of staying warm.

We killed a few hours singing songs together from our respective iPods. I couldn’t believe I’d met someone who enjoyed singing as much as I did, and that she loved the same music I did. She squealed with joy when she saw that I owned “Just Around the Riverbend” from Pocahontas because it was one of her favorite songs…and it became the anthem of our five days’ traveling together.

Our cozy loft room

Our cozy loft room

I’m sure the people in the room next door just loved us.

Our meal was delicious and I was excited to meet a couple from Colorado who had just climbed and summited Cotopaxi. They described their experience and it got me very excited, in a nervous way of course, to get there as soon as possible.

Since Lilian’s ankle was bothering her greatly, and our host pointed out that Ecuador’s most authentic indigenous market was taking place the day after next in Saquisili, we decided to follow his suggestion and hike out to Sigchos the next day instead of spending another night in Isinlivi. Our host assured us that it was an easy walk and only 11kms, the same as the walk to Isinlivi.

Looking down over the canyon before Chugchilan

Looking down over the canyon before Chugchilan

Which turned out to be untrue (shocking, I know.) In fact, looking at the map the following day, I wondered how I never questioned how Chugchilan-Sigchos could possibly be the same distance as Chugchilan-Isinlivi, when the latter is clearly about half the distance. In the end, the hike took over six hours, and we got lost repeatedly.

IMG_9460We also got the fright of our lives by twice being chased by teeth baring nasty dogs trying to protect their territory. We approached a farm and from a distance I spotted a large angry dog running full speed towards us barking his head off. Lilian stayed calm and calmly instructed me to pick up a rock, not make eye contact, and back up slowly up the trail. I was having a strong fight or flight response and the adrenaline was pumping through my body – not helped by the shrieks of the dog’s owner who kept trying to call her pup back home.

Descending one of the many canyons

Descending one of the many canyons

Thank God we didn’t get bit.

The last part of the hike was a super steep slog up a road. The directions clearly stated that we had to be on the lookout for switchbacks heading up the mountain to the left to get to Sigchos. We found a trail, and I must have climbed over 1500 vertical feet only to find the trail led to a farm and a bunch of pigs on the top of a hillside. So, with lots of backtracking, we eventually gave up on the trail directions and decided to just walk up the same road that vehicles were driving on.

It became obvious that we were going to miss the 2:30pm bus, but when we actually saw the bus heading down the mountain towards us, I was super impressed when Lilian staunchly stated that I was welcome to take it, but that she wanted to officially “finish” out hike by walking back to Sigchos. I agreed to join her in the last hour of climbing to the town, and then another half hour to the bus since, of course, the town’s bus terminal was “mas arriba”.

CHIPS!!!

CHIPS!!!

Getting on the bus, we could barely contain our joy as we sat and stuffed our faces with our last bag of potato chips. Those were some incredibly tasting potato chips.

Time for Adventure – Baños Part I

01 Tuesday Jul 2014

Posted by Anita in Ecuador, South America

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Biking, Hikes, Mountains, Villages

 

Beautiful Baños

Beautiful Baños

I last left you a bit depressed for me because I hadn’t had much luck connecting with other travelers until I met 3 lovely young Americans in Casa Hood Restaurant in the adrenaline capital of Ecuador, Baños. Lucky for me, the 3 Americans were planning to do the same thing as I the following day and so we formed a happy team ready to take on the famous Baños to Puyo “Waterfall Route” on bicycles. I even added a solo traveling Kiwi guy called Nick the next morning because he wanted to tag along. They also had the clever idea to make a stop in the morning at the famed “Tree House” that has a swing that lets you jetty out over the edge of the cloud forest, and when photographed correctly, creates the illusion of thousands of feet of potential freefall beneath you.

The Tree House Swing

The Tree House Swing

The swing was quite fun, but it didn’t even compare with the wonderful downhill mountain bike ride we had for over an hour before re-joining the main road that connects to the waterfall route. It was sheer steep downhill the whole way, and even in the rain, the wafts of tropical warm air made it completely pleasurable.

Waterfall Route

Waterfall Route

The bike ride was fantastic and also a great workout. You can tell that Baños is the gateway to the Amazon “Oriente” region of the country. The dry sierra has turned into a lush green canopy of trees and rushing water. The road was sometimes tricky to navigate with all the traffic driving so close and fast beside you, but luckily, every time there was a tunnel bored through the mountain rock, there was a nice and safe “bike route” that ran alongside the mountain to the right of the main road. Often, the track would be rained down upon by cascading little waterfalls and we gleefully ran our bikes under the cascading water.

Group shot at Paillon Del Diablo

Group shot at Paillon Del Diablo

The highlight of the day, by far, was the Paillon Del Diablo Waterfall. No special mention of these falls is made in my guidebook, other than it’s a 45 minutes walk through the jungle to the falls themselves, with an additional $1.50 charge to get up close and personal.

Pailllon Del Diablo

Pailllon Del Diablo

When we arrived at the falls, my jaw dropped. This was a magical setting, worthy of a movie location for some fantastical tropical world. The waterfall itself cascaded with tremendous power down a rather narrow canyon, but what made the view so interesting was that they had built these undulating cobbled platforms that allowed you to view the waterfalls from several vantage points as well as a tunnel about 3 feet in height that you could crawl through to get to a viewing platform behind the falls themselves.

Crawling up to behind the falls

Crawling up to behind the falls

I was blown away. And rather wet, but happy to have “discovered” this magnificent place.

We all left with giant grins on our faces and biked as far as our legs could stand before we crossed the main road and flagged down a bus heading back to Baños.

To complete our day, we visited the thermal baths that evening. They are what give this volcanic town it’s name. The baths were packed with people and contained 3 pools of varying temperatures from “ooooh this is like a nice bath” to “I’ll have to enter toe first this is so scalding hot”. The key to the “salud” aspect of the baths, was to cool off in the “cold” pool every 10 minutes or so. It was hard to get up the nerve to dunk, but it did feel good after if one braved it.

Simon's face, behind the falls

Simon’s face, behind the falls

All in all, a fantastic day was had by all. The following day, I took the morning to hang out at the hostel and then forced myself to get in a work out (for the sake of my upcoming climb of Cotopaxi)by climbing up to the “Mirador” in town.

At the Cross or Mirador in Baños

At the Cross or Mirador in Baños

Unfortunately, despite this town being in the shadow of the mighty Volcan Tungurahua, you almost never get the chance to see him, since he seems to live semi-permanently in a veil of cloud.

The Cordillera Huayhuash Circuit Part II – Free Donkeys and Hot Springs

25 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by Anita in Peru, South America

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Hikes, Mountains, Tours

Better weather on Day 6

Better weather on Day 6

By day six, the weather started co-operating with us and I awoke to brilliant sunshine.  However, trouble was brewing as evidenced by the worried and perplexed looks on our guides’ faces.  “The donkeys are gone”, were the first words said to me in response to my “Buenos Dias”.  “What do you mean they’re gone?  Where did they go?  Or were they stolen?  And what does that mean for our group?” (of course, this conversation happened in Spanish)

Our group at mealtimes

Our group at mealtimes

As it turned out, nobody knew what had happened to the donkeys – 6 of ours and 3 from another group camping close by.  Mario, our donkey wrangler, was besides himself as they represented his livelihood and he claimed that they’d never just wandered off before.  Without the donkeys, our trek could not continue as we’d have no way of transporting all of our equipment and fuel.  Javier, Julian and Mario set off on foot and horseback to look for the donkeys and we were told to stay put, worst case scenario being that we’d have to stay another night in the same camp.

Given how awful I felt after the day before, I was quite happy to have a morning of rest.

After about 3 hours, Mario returned convinced that they’d been stolen in the night by one of the local communities.  He was inconsolable.  Javier and Julian were still out looking.

Then, about an hour later, someone spotted the donkey dude from the other group, on horseback, corralling 9 donkeys back down the valley from literally what appeared to be at least 2000 feet up the mountain.  What the hell?

The man explained that he’d “found” the 9 donkeys in a CAVE way up the mountain side where they must have spent the night.

Seriously?!

Our horse, Luis Pajon.

Our horse, Luis Pajon.

From this point on, throughout the rest of the trek, we all decided that the donkeys had decided to go have themselves a good party that night.  Lots of laughs were had describing the lead donkey saying “You gotta check out the grass up there…it’s the best grass you’ve ever tasted” and the obvious double entendre.  While in the cave, we think the donkeys decided it was time to revolt from being human-load carriers- they were going to be Free Donkeys!

This became our toast of choice from this point forward.

Hot Springs and Cold Beer!

Hot Springs and Cold Beer!

Despite our late departure, we had another soul soothing experience to look forward to.  Our camp for this night was located directly next to a natural thermal pool!  After that many days without my skin touching water, it was an unbelievably wonderful feeling.  Add to that the fact that they were selling 1/2 litre bottles of beer for $2 and we had ourselves a fantastic afternoon soak.  It’s amazing how trekking can really help boil life down to the bare necessities, and have you appreciate them so much more.

The only other drama we sustained throughout the rest of our journey was losing 3 members of our group on two separate occasions.  On the first, I was one of the 3.  Since our guide was still way behind us walking with the older slower couple, the 3 faster walkers decided to just keep heading downhill after the highest pass, Punta Cuyoc, until we saw our campsite.  Unfortunately, we just kept going and going and never saw our tents.  I started feeling suspicious because Javier had said that the campsite should be reached within an hour of the pass?!  Eventually we stopped to discuss what to do, and we saw Julian walking towards us yelling.  Turns out, we’d walked at least an hour too far and now faced that same hour of walking uphill after what had already been a very difficult day of asent!  I was so disheartened I could barely speak until I collapsed in my tent.

At Punta Cuyoc, 5000m

At Punta Cuyoc, 5000m

2 days later, the older couple announced that they were leaving the trek.  It was getting too hard for them and we had descended to a village at 3200M where it would be possible for them to pick up a series of buses to get back to Huaraz.  I respected their decision and was secretly and selfishly glad to have our guide back.

Waiting for the rest of the group: turns out we'd walked an hour past our campsite

Waiting for the rest of the group: turns out we’d walked an hour past our campsite

The last three days were by far the best from a group and scenery perspective.  Unfortunately, I was sick again – the Cipro I’d taken hadn’t killed my strep infection and it was back with a vengeance.  The fact that I could still manage 1400m of ascent and high passes during a fever told me how fit I’d gotten with these miles of walking over the better part of two weeks.  I managed to buy more antibiotics at the general store (without prescription is perfectly normal in Peru) and hoped this would stamp it out for good.  I’d also lost a considerable amount of weight and my pants were starting to fall down (a good problem, I think).

Siula Grande!

Siula Grande!

Our group became very cohesive with just four clients and we had more intimate dinners and social times together.  The most incredible day was when we walked face to face with the magnificent Siula Grande mountain and there was not a cloud in the sky.  By far the most stunning mountain scenery I’ve ever had the grace to witness.

Jumping into the river to cool off

Jumping into the river to cool off

On our penultimate day, the weather actually got pretty hot- and we were all convinced to jump into the glacially cold river to cool off and clean up.  It was super fun.  That day was so relaxing and wonderful, though I’m sure it was aided by the knowledge that all we had in front of us was a five hour, mostly flat, walk out the next day to Llamac and our waiting bus!

The Cordillera Huayhuash Circuit – Part I – Guts and Glory

25 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by Anita in Peru

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Hikes, Mountains, Tours

View from Day 1

View from Day 1

I returned last night from one of the most physically and emotionally arduous walking journeys of my life. The Huayhuash circuit is legendary for its grand peaks that are close enough to touch, and its sheer unspoiled wilderness. I’d first heard about it through reading the book “Touching the Void” about the perilous and ill-fated attempt of two British climbers to scale Siula Grande for the first time.

I honestly can’t believe how much happened in these past ten days, but it will surely take some weeks to fully sink in. Just the appreciation of a real bed and the chance to rest today, and connect again with friends via the internet has been overwhelming. Doing this circuit really meant being completely cut off – and in my case, being cut off from anyone that could have a real conversation with me in English. It’s been a trying and demanding experience.

Our stunning campsite on night number 2

Our stunning campsite on night number 2

As you will recall, I began this journey with trepidation about whether I should even be getting on the bus. I’d just returned from my four day Santa Cruz trek and had developed a nasty sore throat and temperature. This turned out to be Strep, and for the first 3 days, I hiked and camped through a nasty fever and very weak disposition.

Javier and I - together again

Javier and I – together again

Our group was a huge surprise for me because it consisted of 4 Poles, 1 French Canadian, a Peruvian client and 3 Peruvian staff. I couldn’t believe that I was going to be in Peru for 10 days talking in Polish every day (and as it turned out, serving as somewhat of a translator between the Polish clients and our guides). So, bizarre as it was, I was relieved that I’d at least not be completely left out of every dinner conversation and could understand about 90% of what was being spoken. However, moving constantly in my brain between Polish, Spanish and French was very demanding and I longed to have a conversation in my mother tongue.

Our bumpy six hour ride to the trail head was soon relieved by the knowledge that we’d be camping right where the bus let us out. Our nice dinner however, was soon interrupted by a huge storm rolling in and our equally huge discovery that none of our tents were waterproof. Commotion and moving all of our gear into the cooking tent soon had all of our spirits dampened along with our gear. Upon waiting out the storm all smushed into one tent, the rain subsided and after drying out our tents, we trepidatiously agreed to try a night of sleep in them – the plan being that Javier (incidentally the same guide that I had on the Santa Cruz) would head out on horseback at 5am to get to the nearest town where there would be a signal and call Galaxia, our agency, and request that they send our group of 7 some new tents.

Rainbow on a chilly wet morning

Rainbox on a chilly wet morning

Javier returned around 11am with the assurance that new tents were on the way and we could get started on our day’s climb. Each day of this trek involved going over a pass that was in excess of 4500m, the highest one being 5030m or 16,500 feet. Still feeling very unwell, I paced myself and was very grateful when we arrived at our next campsite…that is, until we discovered that our agency had only sent 2 new tents – leaving 3 of us in the same predicament as before.

Seething, but with no other choice, the crew did what they could to patch up the best of the worst 3 tents left over with tarp and tape, and we prayed each night that it wouldn’t rain too badly.

What a way to start a 9 night trip in the high alpine.

Each day brought new highlights and lowlights. The scenery was absolutely stunning, though cloud and rain did obscure some views those first few days. We had a stunning sun break at our second campsite which was situated almost directly below towering white-capped peaks covered in glaciers that you could hear calving throughout the night. Our food was wonderfully prepared by our chef, Julian, and our guide, Javier did the best he could with a group that was easily split into 3 when it came to the speed at which we walked. A slightly older couple from Poland were the slowest, and what took half the group to cover in 7 hours, took them 11. This meant that for the most part, we were walking without a guide and relying on the cook or the donkey porter, Mario, to tell us the direction to walk.

Weather started to get bad on the way up the pass

Weather started to get bad on the way up the pass

This was all fine and good until day 4 when the weather became exceptionally bad and it became impossible to wait for others to “catch up”. I was trying to get to the top of the pass to catch up with Shirley and Janusz who had been in front, since half of the group with the guide were over an hour behind me. When I got to the pass, it started to snow – heavily. I waited as long as I could except that it soon became obvious that if I waited any longer, hypothermia was going to be a real problem and I had no emergency shelter with me. I started walking down the path hoping that the way would be obvious to the next campsite.

Unfortunately, the weather worsened and I soon found myself in a white out and started to panic. I had no map, no compass. I didn’t know which way camp was. I could start heading back up where I came from, but when I turned around the visibility was so bad I couldn’t re-trace my steps. Walking in whiteout conditions and hoping for the best, I spotted two figures in the distance and started yelling. It turned out to be two Australian independent backpackers who were kind enough to wait for me and show me the way down (at least as best they could with the visibility, but at least they had a map)

Weather has turned to snow and I have no idea where I'm going

Weather has turned to snow and I have no idea where I’m going

About two and a half hours later, I arrived in camp and promptly burst into tears in the cooking tent.  It was still raining.  Half way through the trek and that day didn’t feel safe by a long shot.

The Santa Cruz Trek – 4 days of spectacular scenery and suffering

23 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by Anita in Peru

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Hikes, Mountains, Tours

Santa Cruz Trek, Cordillera Blanca, Peru

Santa Cruz Trek, Cordillera Blanca, Peru

Despite some initial trepidation about needing more time to acclimatize, I booked my 4 day Santa Cruz trek with the Galaxia Tour Company in downtown Huaraz to leave the following morning. Marco, the very jovial owner, explained that it really was a trek designed to help a person acclimatize and should definitely be attempted before doing the Huayhuash Circuit. Since I got a nice discount, I booked both treks, knowing that I’d get a day and a half to recuperate between the two.

Entrance into the National Park

Entrance into the National Park

The first day went very well. Apart from a sleepness night, I managed to get a few hours of rest on the four hour bus ride to the trailhead. We had a five hour ascent to our first campsite. It started in a village and followed a lovely creek through a canyon that finally opened out into a beautiful meadow. Our guide, Javier, was delightful and I basically got a five hour Spanish lesson on that walk! He was very “amable” and I liked him a lot. The rest of our group comprised an retired French lady, a couple from Spain (who incidentally rarely stopped talking-ever) and two lovely young friends from Germany in their late twenties.

First lake

First lake

Our first campsite was at 3600 meters and we started the climb at 2900 meters. I could definitely feel it, but I was feeling ok all the same. The view from the meadow of the white-capped peaks was very impressive. I had my own tent and after a cozy dinner served in our private “mess tent” – I settled in for my first night in my own Eddie Bauer 0 degree sleeping bag: which I was so grateful I had brought along.

The next day the trail got interesting. First we passed several alpine lakes with plunging waterfalls descending from glaciers hanging overhead from towering peaks. Then we entered a wooded area followed by a desert like wide expanse of sand which made for difficult footing. I was starting to really feel the altitude, but so far, so good.   After lunch, we were heading up to a lake at 4400m. This was starting to get serious, altitude-wise. I should have done at least 2-3 acclimitization hikes before ascending this high and I’d only done one. My fingers were crossed.

Quatchi and the sand/desert section

Quatchi and the sand/desert section

Around 4100m I started to get a stomach ache. Next came bouts of nausea. Then the whole world starting to feel strange, as if the mountains were moving and I wasn’t. I felt panicked and sat down next to a stream. To make matters even worse – I realized that my period had started (6 days early and I’m usually regular) and I only had enough “stuff” to last about a day. From that point on…I stopped and asked every woman I passed if they had anything to spare. This managed to see me through most days…when it didn’t- well, I’ll spare you the details 😦

Sitting by that stream I started to cry. Javier came by and gave me some paracetomol telling me it would help. Did I want to continue to the lake or sit there and wait for him? Stubborn as I am and as much of an achiever as I am, I elected to continue.  Stupid, I know.

At the high altitude lake: found strength to jump right after being sick

At the high altitude lake: found strength to jump right after being sick

That next 45 minute ascent was as tough as the last 45 minutes on Rainier. I struggled for air and felt sick to my stomach. The view at the lake was worth it, and I collapsed onto a rock to take in the view…but felt worse by the minute.

Pierre and Malte, both having had AMS themselves on a previous trek, suggested I go down as soon as possible. Pierre asked “Maybe you’d feel better if you just puked?”

That did it.

I don’t know what it was- but that word did the trick and everything that I’d eaten or drank that day came back. After, feeling a little better, I started the descent with Javier who stayed with me despite my now dinosaur pace.

Beautiful Alpamayo

Beautiful Alpamayo

Getting into camp, it was all I could do to drink a little soup and then crawl into my sleeping bag. That was a really rough night. My heart felt like it was beating right out of my chest. I took some diamox and drank over a litre, getting up to pee at least 3 times. I felt so anxious and there was no-one to talk to about how I was feeling. So, pretty tough all around. Decided to take some Ambien so I could get at least a few hours of sleep.

In the morning, I felt pretty rough. My secondary womanly issues were not helping matters and I was emotionally overwrought. It was, of course, in this state of mind that I now had to face the toughest part of the 55 km circuit – the ascent to Punta Union at 4750 meters, which incidentally, is 15,583 feet – over 100 feet higher than Mount Rainier. Deep breaths.

Feeling ill on the way up to Punta Union

Feeling ill on the way up to Punta Union

It was slow going, but after 2 and a 1/2 hours of struggling with breath at every step, I made it. The next section, our guide wanted to try his “new route” that was supposed to be more beautiful. That’s great, but he didn’t mention it would include traipsing through thigh-tall grass and sinking into mud to your ankles. It made each step even more tiring. This was a 15 mile day, and by the time we walked into camp I had literally fallen over asleep mid-stride.

I crawled into my tent and set up my mattress and sleeping bag. No sooner had I crawled on top, not even bothering to remove my muddy pants, but I noticed what sounded like an entire school of children had decided to play a game of soccer, screaming simultaneously right outside my tent. This campsite was not the wilderness, we were in the midst of local villages. There was not going to be any rest for me before dinner, which was me forcing down some broth again. Our “bathroom” was this distant deserted looking building which I was assured was manned through the night. I trudged over there and found myself walking through a small river which I hadn’t seen with my headlight. The only reception I found was two barking dogs and no-one answering the door. Creeped out in the night, I miserably trudged through the field and found a place to dig a hole, to um, do my business (sorry – but that’s the reality of camping sometimes)

At the highest point on the trek

At the highest point on the trek

Our last morning was supposed to be super easy – only a 2 hour hike out before we would catch our bus back to Huaraz. I woke up feeling so much better and refreshed. We were told to wake up at our normal 6:30am so we could hit the trail at 8am. The ascent was actually steeper than I was expecting, but the prospect of a bus ride and a shower made it easier. We passed lots of interesting villages full of small smiling children waving greetings as we passed them by.

Arriving in the village of Vaqueria, we settled with some cold drinks to wait for our bus. The wait turned into 3 hours, with my questions regarding when the bus would arrive being constantly avoided. Welcome to Peru. Around 11:30 – they did serve us some lunch, but not before several of the group had given into their hunger buying themselves some lunch. Of course, no-one had told us we were going to be fed.

Sigh.

Towards the end of our trek

Towards the end of our trek

Then once we finally got going, we were told we had to stop at the trailhead for Laguna 69 to pick up some day hikers. “No te preocupes, solo 20 minutos”. Whenever a Peruvian says this, you know you should start worrying. 2 hours later, we finally hit the road and didn’t get back to Huaraz until after 7pm. I’d been reassured that we’d be back by 2, so I was pretty disappointed not to have any time to relax. I literally showered, ate some fruit, and passed out. Unfortunately, I’d also developed a sore throat and a fever which has continued into today…And I’m supposed to leave on the Huayhuash trek tomorrow morning!

Here’s hoping I feel better soon.

Trekking Nebaj To Todos Santos: Day Three

26 Saturday Mar 2011

Posted by Anita in Guatemala

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Hikes, Transport, Travel Days

Two of the little girls from the family we stayed with

By the third day our bruised and smelly bodies, cat-scratched faces, and shivers were not aided by breakfast.  Boiled broccoli in a broth with-you guessed it!-more tortillas. Again we said our thank-yous and miserably dug into broccoli at 6:30 in the morning, which just felt wrong on so many levels until we considered that this is what the family ate each day.  It broke my heart as the children kept coming in and out of the room just to watch us eat, their sun-burnt dirty faces watching our every move as if we were from outer space.

Which we might as well have been.

Our unhappy faces eating boiled brocolli for breakfast

What I found to be more disturbing was that the two young sons in the family were clean and well-dressed while the girls were unkempt and filthy. I thought it very sad, but a reality nonetheless.

Our final stretch to Todos Santos turned out to be entirely on main roads.  Due to the fact that we all needed to be back in Antigua for various reasons that night, we elected to cut down on the journey by taking two pick-ups that pulled over for us at various stages of the journey.

Arriving in Todos Santos was like arriving at a carnival.  Never in my life have I witnessed a town where each man and woman had corresponding matching outfits. The men wore matching red pants with white stripes!  It was market day and there were some other festivities going on as well which we were lucky enough to observe with earnest.

One of the dancers at the festival in Todos Santos

Unfortunately, it seemed that the town’s sewage and pipe system was getting a massive overhaul and the entire downtown section lay in rubbled as people were forced to pass by the ten foot deep trench on either side with wooden planks.

After a traditional lunch, we went to pick up Francesco and Nico’s backpack which they had paid heftily to have transported to the end of our trek.  Disaster: it had not arrived despite being promised that it would arrive the night before.  Francesco was not happy.

Nico, our guide, was extremely unhelpful and just muttered something about how bags usually had shown up by now, and that hopefully it would arrive at some point that day. Francesco and I headed out to the bus terminal to see if any transport was arriving that might have the pack.  We were dismayed to learn that the last bus to Huehuetenango was leaving in fifteen minutes.

Damn.  Our only connection to Antigua.

We went to find another location that we were told might contain arriving micros.  It was clear on the other side of town.  Half way there, Francesco got a text from Nico saying that the pack had arrived!  There was no time to lose: Francesco told me to run and hold the bus going to Huehue and that he would run back to Nico and get the rest of our stuff and meet me there.

The outfit worn by all the men in Todos Santos

I ran uphill through the rubble-lined streets as fast as my worn out legs could carry me and back to where my memory told me we’d found the bus in the first place.

It was just pulling out as I screamed “Pare! Pare! Por Favor…Me espere!” which I’m not even sure is correct Spanish, but it nevertheless got the bus attendant’s attention. He replaced the rock next to the bus’ wheels as I breathlessly explained that three more people were on their way.

The journey back to Antigua later evolved into a nightmare.  I’ve written already about a exhilarating experience I had on a chicken bus.  This was not exhilaration, it was more like a taste of a cattle train during the war.  In Huehue we tried to transfer to a bus for Antigua and were told it was full and we’d have to take the next one, which happened to the be the last one headed in that direction.

A rather unusual sight: An Albino Indigenous woman

When it arrived, my heart sank as the doors opened to reveal it already packed with not even standing room left.  And yet, the bus workers urged us to wedge our bodies into the swath of sweaty pressed bodies, using all our might to force ourselves into the human sandwich at the rear of the bus.  Francesco took a seat on the roof, only to be yelled at and forced to join us in the solid lung-squeezed crowd.

I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life.  It was impossible to even remove a sweater.  I couldn’t move my arms.  My feet weren’t even pointing in the right direction.  It was unreal.  And in all this craziness, the unthinkable happened:

The bus conductor asked us to make room for him to come through and collect our fares!  WTF?  Can you even imagine?  It was ludicrous, he kept yelling at me to move and I wanted to punch him in the face, only  I couldn’t free a hand.

How long was this going to last?  A few people said that a handful of people might deboard in Los Encuentros, but that it was a little over an hour away.  God.  Could I stand it?  Did I even have a choice?

Just as I was trying to find my inner happy place, someone yelled for the bus to stop so that he could jump off.  The only way he could exit at the rear was if Francesco and I exited with him and then re-climbed into the bus.  Which I did by climbing the ladder and jumping back up on the high platform.

Except that I hit my head doing so.  Hard.

Squeezed like toothpaste standing in the back of the chicken bus

At this point, I could feel myself losing emotional control and I begain sobbing at the pain. Thankfully, Francesco asked someone if they’d give up their ledge of a seat to me as I seemed to be hurt.  I wasn’t sure if sitting in the solid mass was much of an improvement,  but at least I wasn’t relying on the pressed bodies to keep me from falling over as the bus took bends in the road.

After leaving Todos Santos at 1:30pm, we finally arrived in Antigua four buses and eight hours later.  Mustering just enough energy to grab some food, we ate and then passed out in our three-bedded room at Casa Jacaranda.

I was destroyed.  What an adventure we’d had.

To see all the photos from this trek click here.

Where: Nebaj to Todos Santos, Casa Jacaranda in Antigua

When: 19th of March

How: Hike to Todos Santos, Chicken Bus to Huehuequetango, Bus to Xela, transfer to bus to Antigua, transfer at Saint Lucas

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