Los Torres del Paine
After Russ and I lost our third travel partner, there was nowhere to go but down, so we headed south. I let Russ handle this next adventure, and he proposed a trip to Chile, so we boarded yet another bus and headed to southern Argentina where we could easily cross over to Chile. We were very relieved (understatement) to discover we didn’t have to pay the $130.00 tax that US citizens must pay to get into Chile because we bussed in rather than flew.
We arrived in Puerto Natales, which is a little port town that borders Parque Nacional Torres del Paine. Puerto Natales reminded us of a sleepy Oregon beach town, minus the beach, plus many tourists. We arrived towards the end of the trekking season, which was perfect, as we were therefore able to easily find a hostel, and plan our next step. After much debate we decided to head towards Los Torres del Paine and trek the “W”. The “W” is half of the whole loop and takes anywhere from four to five days. As it was nearing my birthday (and on that day I wanted to be showered and well fed) the “W” seemed like the appropriate choice.
Russ and me on our final day of the trek, in front of Glacier Grey
Of the trek, I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. It was my first ever real backpacking experience, and as far as that went… I am proud. Lucky for me I was with an expert, who always was the first to get up and motivate me with good humor and fresh warm mate.
Some highlights of the trek:
1. seeing the sun-rise on the granite towers
2. Being kissed by a supply boy on a horse (in my defense, I thought he asked me for a peso… not un beso… oops… sorry Russ)
3. The realization that the tent was in fact water and wind resistant
4. Seeing avalanches
5. A hot shower, and a beer,,. Finally on the third day
6. Glacier Grey
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| Los Torres del paine |
After the trek, we were full of fresh air, and ready to bear the bus fumes of Buenos Aires once again.
Long time coming…Russ, Gabi and Emma’s Patagonian adventures
Ok. So it has been terribly long since I have contributed to updating the blog. So.. here I go.
After the trip to Brazil (in February) Gabi, Russ and I decided to head south and explore Patagonia. We left Buenos Aires just four days after returning from Brazil, on the 14th of February. There is no more a romantic way to spend Valentines Day than a 20- some odd hour bus ride; luckily I think that holiday is pretty stupid. Our first stop was Bariloche.
view from our hostel
In Bariloche we found the perfect little hostel (a chill place) where we were able to recover from the long bus ride. The hostel was a ways from town in the middle of Otto Mountain. Although it was a trek to get to the hostel, the view was more than worth it. We spent our time in Bariloche hiking, swimming, cooking, card playing and reading… a theme that repeated itself throughout the trip. While hiking in Bariloche we all felt right at home amongst the pine trees and green shrubbery; we could have pretty much done the same thing in Oregon, and there on a much smaller budget.. but instead of looking at it in a negative way we decided to just be happy that we felt so close to home.
gabi and me swimming in the very cold water
We explored Bariloche for about four days before we decided to put our camping gear to use. We camped at a nearby lake (Lago Gutierrez) for four nights. To our joy and surprise we were all sitting around the campfire when one of us happened to look up and notice that there was a lunar eclipse. Lunar eclipses are pretty cool in and of themselves, but when you are camping, away from any city lights and just happen to stumble across one, they seem to be even more magical. We spent the four days swimming in the very cold lake, hiking, reading, cooking and playing with two puppies that lived on the campgrounds. Once we were good and dirty, we felt it was time to move on.
We took a two-hour bus ride to the nearby town of Bolson. It is known as quite a hippie town, and coming from Eugene I felt right at home. Using our Lonely Planet (our Bible) we found the perfect little hostel. It was about a mile out of town, in a little shack-like place.
We shared the shack with two other couples… poor Gabi. The three of us were piled into a very small loft. In Bolson we explored the feria (which had great food and crafts) and took one day to hike to a waterfall and the toothless Indian head or some call the toothless hippie head, both un-PC, (but I must admit it did look like a toothless someone). This day hike turned into quite the adventure as we ran into some wild bulls,,, and Russ (who I guess had seen too many bullfights in Spain) made us wait until they passed on the side of the trail.. for at least an hour, before heading back. (there is more to that story, but I don’t want to embarrass anyone… Russ). We stayed in the shack for three nights, and through talking with other travelers decided to hike to Glacier Azul.
we are trying to imitate the toothless indian head in the background
The trek to Glacier Azul began with a taxi ride to some random place and about a mile trek to a “bridge”. This bridge has a one-person maximum limit on it, and would not be considered legally crossable in the states. It was a suspension Indiana Jones-style bridge, with rotten and missing boards. Gabi at first decided she would rather try and forge the river, but the currents were too strong, and we were therefore only left with one option. The bridge made all of us a little light-headed and sweaty, but we made it safely across after about 40 min a piece. Once over the bridge, it hit us that at some pt in the near future we were going to have to cross that thing again, but we promptly put that out of our heads as we had a 7 hour up-hill (rather up-mountain) hike ahead of us. Once we finally reached the campgrounds I felt as if there should be a band and champagne glasses waiting, but alas, people hardly even noticed the feat we had just accomplished. It could be that they had all done the same thing to get there… but that’s besides the point- for me, it was a big deal. Luckily we reached the Refugio just in time to set up our tents and start a fire for dinner. We spent the first day relaxing and taking in the beauty of the surrounding area. I do believe it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, it quite literally took my breath away the first day we arrived. We relaxed, and were able to take hot showers.
Refugio
We decided the next day we were going to hike up even further to take a look at the glacier (my first ever). The hike up the mountain to the glacier was like a rocky scramble. I kept thinking… if my mom could somehow see what I am doing…she would be so mad at me. It was steep, windy, and scary. But luckily we all three made it up intact and were able to enjoy the glacier and bright blue-green lake puddle at the bottom of it. We stayed up there for a good hour before the even scarier hike down. Climbing up something is quite different than sliding down it, which is how the second half of this journey went. But again, we all made it safely to the bottom. We stayed at the campsite for another night and headed back down the mountain, which took much less time. Although hiking down the mountain took less time, there was still a bridge at the end of it, and we were low on food and water (which we had given to a sad bunch who had only made it half way up the mountain, with no water, who looked desperate for a drink). All three of us took to the bridge bravely, this time actually taking some pictures, no longer afraid that they might in fact be the last pictures ever taken of us. Anyhow we made it back safely, but then realized… there was no way to get a cab back to the town… and the cab had taken us a good 7 miles at the beginning of this journey. We walked and walked and walked… I think after all we had been through, this was the closest we had all come to cracking. Luckily there were blackberries lining the roads so we found a little extra strength to make it back. Once back we headed to the shack to see if there was any room and luckily there was. That night we showered and had the best steak dinner I have ever had.
Russ crossing to safety
From Bolson we took a 12-hour bus ride to Puerto Madryn. Unfortunately, Puerto Madryn was not at all something any three of us liked, so we spent one day doing a very touristy circuit of the big park, where, on the up-side, we were able to see penguins and seals, or something.
we arrived in Puerto Madryn just in time for the sunrise.
We got out of Puerto Madryn as quickly as possible and headed about two hours away to Gaiman. Unfortunately, Gaiman, was not too much better. It is a small Welsh town, and they pretty much only have tea and little cakes. So we were there two nights, when Gabi decided she had better head back to Buenos Aires as she was flying home in less than a week and wanted to spend some time in the city.
This is where Russ and I sadly said good-bye to Gabi and (our gin rummy champion queen.)
Quite literally the only thing to do in Gaiman, except for the recycle park, but it is too dangerous to go there as the mosquitos will eat you alive. This tea house was particularly famous because it was visited by Princess Diana… and also…as you can see, kinda creepy
for more pics:
http://picasaweb.google.com/hart85/RussTravelPictures
Our month as tour guides
Emma and I have found a new full-time job here in Buenos Aires… as tour guides. Of course, the work is unpaid and we work entirely with people we already know, but it keeps us occupied nonetheless!
We spent a full two weeks with our friend Daniel, who flew into BA from Portland at the beginning of the month. Daniel was a laid-back guest who put up with our bouts of insanity and un-socialness, and even took us out for a few excellent meals (advice to all you future guests, anywhere– we like good food, if you haven’t noticed). And, while we are on the subject, we might as well elaborate- after Asian starvation, we went to a sushi restaurant where we ordered 3 bottles of sake and a 60-piece plate of sushi. Another night, we went to a restaurant we have been dying to go to, called Guido’s. It is a family-owned Italian hole-in-the-wall, located on a small street across from the Buenos Aires zoo. There, they serve the food family-style, but there are no menus- guests sit down at the table, and are immediately brought about 8 antipasto plates, followed by a vegetable course, then 4 different pasta plates, a meat course, and finally dessert. The plates are small, so we were able to get a good taste of everything without the stress of having to finish a heaping plate of food. Once we get our appetites back, it will be a good place to satisfy an Italian craving again (although Emma, the most indecisive orderer of all time, was surprisingly turned off by the no-menu system).
The day Daniel left, our two friends from home, Claire and Manida, arrived. We realized that we wanted to squeeze in a small side trip before Emma’s mom and sister came, so after 24 hours of flying they graciously jumped on an overnight bus and we went back to Mendoza. I would normally aspire to write about Mendoza separately, but since we have been so lazy, I’ll list our top three experiences and hope that we will get on top of it:
1. Wine Touring at Vino Cerno
We got a tour from the owner’s daughter, who was so passionate about wine that every time she described a glass she would smile. We hit it off so well with her that she and her cousin invited us to a barbeque next time we are in Mendoza. We also purchased a bottle of tempranillo that was impeccable.
2. Biscuits and Parks
Mendoza is a lazy city, and we had a few great days just lounging around in the giant San Martin park. Just a few blocks from there is a health-food store that Cam frequented when she lived there, where the owner bakes fresh whole-wheat and fruit biscuits daily. Our mornings revolved around them, and Cam was happy that he remembered her from before
3. hostel madness
Our hostel was crazy- we ran into a ridiculous amount of people we knew. We ran into one of Paige’s friends from BA, and a friend she was traveling with, and Claire shockingly ran into someone from her alma mater, Oregon State University. Cam also came down with food poisoning and became a little too acquainted with the hostel’s communal toilets. Other than that, we met a variety of characters and had some home-made cake.
In store for the week ahead: Claire and Manida get to know BA, Emma’s mom and sister explore the city, and Cam and Emma start to wind-down their time in BA.
Voyage to Valpo
We have been inexcusably lazy these past few… months? weeks? We’ve lost count as well. That’s not to say we haven’t been doing anything! In the spirit of laziness, I am linking you all to an article I did on a recent trip to Valparaiso, Chile (from Mendoza). (At least you’ll get a little taste).
Don’t worry, though- another post is on my agenda for today!!
Cross the Andes for a Whirlwind Weekend in Valparaiso by Cameron Peake
Mendoza: The land of wine and ecovales
Since Emma is off traveling Patagonia, Cam and Preston decided to indulge a little bit of travel as well- so we packed up everything into 1 1/2 backpacks (one is just a little bookbag) and headed west to Mendoza. You may know the area for its Malbec wines (here, the going rate for an excellent bottle of Malbec is 12 pesos, or roughly 4 dollars) but it is also to be the future hotbed of the ecovale. Let me explain.
We decided that our time in Buenos Aires, while fun, was somewhat unfulfilling (working in front of a computer = good time waster, bad for human and community interaction). So, we searched a website and applied to a few nonprofits out here- and within hours, El Prosumidor had written us back with an invitation to work (well, volunteer) with them.
The organization has been around since the 1990s, and has done a variety of things in the province of Mendoza- communal living and social sustainability projects- but one of the most interesting initiatives they have undertaken is the implementation of a “social currency.” In the 1990s, El Prosumidor began printing out a form of currency to be used within a given community- with the intention of retaining money, goods, and jobs within a certain marginalized area. Basically, it operated as a form of backlash against the negative effects of globalization, and as a way for the poorer subsets to be able to trade and operate without restraint. What is interesting is that at the same time, a Canadian man (whose name has escaped me) had introduced the same concept in parts of Canada- however, this currency was used by more affluent people in smaller towns, as a way of preserving the town and local ecology. In strict comparison, the Argentine example was not limited, but grew tremendously over the years- to a point where between 2 and 4 million people were using the notes.
Of course, all things come to an end, and some people began to print bills without restriction, which led to inflation and a loss of confidence, as well as the eventual disappearance of the currency. In recent years, others on the international scene- most notably in Forteleza, Brazil began to use their own currency, modeled on the Argentine version, called Palmas. You should definitely Google it; there is a video summary. In this slum of the city, community members started circulating this currency, and some people in the community operate and run businesses solely on the Palma: loans are given, products are purchased, people are paid. One woman proclaimed that she now never has to go downtown to purchase goods.
The Argentines are now revamping the initiative, and they are renaming the currency the ecovale. El Prosumador is again the driving force behind the reintroduction. The organization is incorporating certain safeguards to ensure that it won’t fail again, such as the support of local government, businesses, and other social organizations. Our job will be to help edit and translate a document that will be submitted to a World Bank summit, with the intention of introducing the project and seeking funding. In the process our gracious host, Alberto, has promised to introduce us to the intimate details of the project and other initiatives El Prosumador is spearheading, as well as introductions to other nonprofits in the community. He also employed another worker, Mauro, to help us find housing- which is costing just $100 each for a month, in a nice residential house that we share with 2 (or 3?- there are people constantly popping in and out) Argentines.
Tomorrow we plan to visit the Bodegas, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of vino news for all those that are interested.
Victoria Part II: Proof that it is the most amiable town in Brazil
Emma recounted her experience with the friendly people of Victoria here, and I have to say, I am bound to agree.
Preston, Zach and I decided to visit Brazil’s most famous chocolate factory, just outside of Victoria one day (we needed chocolate after out decidedly unsweet night’s sleep at our hotel). We figured we would also kill two birds with one stone and visit the local convent as well, which overlooks the city of Villa Velha and the Atlantic Ocean.
We decided to be economical (the theoretical theme of the trip), and hopped aboard a bus. While on board, we realized that:
1. Villa Velha was not really a villa at all. It was actually rather big
2. We had no map
We decided that it was probably a bad idea to just wander around the city (which we later learned was the largest in the province of Espiritu Santos, bigger than even Victoria, the capital), and in broken portuguese Cam asked a young girl seated across from us on the bus. She informed us that she would let us know what stop to get off at, and give us directions to the factory.
Ten minutes later, she informed us that the factory was on the way to her house, and she would walk us there. We thankfully obliged (which was a good idea in retrospect, given the strange, indirect trajectory to the factory) and walked, partially in silence, partially in half-understood Spanish-Portuguese, to the Garoto factory.
Upon arrival, we learned that the factory was closed for tours during Carnaval. However, our friend (whose name was something like “Marion” but not quite… we have bad memories) arranged an English-speaking employee to come and answer our questions. We then bought an obscene amount of chocolate, including M’s favorite milk filled variety, thanked her profusely, and thought that would be the end of it.
It was only the beginning.
She informed us that she had arranged for her English-speaking friend to meet us at the convent, and to give us an informal guided tour. We told her not to bother, but she said that it would be her pleasure. We walked, bused, and cabbed it to the convent, and once we arrived, we found out that it too was closed. By this point her friend David had arrived (who spoke impeccable English), but neither would give up- they would show us Villa Velha if it killed us. They called the Ferry museum, which was closed. They offered to show us their mall, or a bar district, whatever- but we insisted that we were happy just wandering around, learning about the history of the town (which David knew quite a bit about).
We eventually wandered into a juice shop, and they sat to have a drink with us. We then went to a pharmacy. Eventually we realized that it was nearly 8 PM, and that we had an hour’s bus ride ahead of us- so we excused ourselves, knowing that they had already outdone themselves, spending over four hours with us.
But that was not the end. David insisted on riding the bus into town with us– and then back to his house, in addition to paying our bus fares. We sincerely hope that he did it to practice his English, because although we are obviously charming and interesting, we are probably not worth 6 hours of a stranger’s time!
In the end, although we did not get to see the chocolate factory, climb the hill to the convent, or experience the ferry museum, out introduction to Villa Velha and Victoria in general was overwhelmingly positive.
The Capoeira Chronicles
Capoeira is to Bahia as Samba is to Brazil. The half dance, half martial art is native to the region, and indeed, sprung out of the unique socio-historical process that only existed in the NE of the country. As we discovered upon our arrival, capoeira is flourishing in Salvador to this day.
Capoeira was originally developed as a means of training by slaves to overthrow their masters. They would engage in slow, steady, precise movements, without touching, so as to be flexible and attentive enough to throw off the slave owners. As plantation staff caught on to the plan, capoeira-ists got more clever- they first introduced bows that they would play as others were approaching the capoeira site, and they later turned the training into a sort of slow, ritual dance (that eventually incorporated the bows as a beat). This same tradition can be seen everywhere in Bahia today- capoeira studios abound, you can see individuals practicing flips on the beach, and, especially during Carnaval, if you see a congregation of people standing on the street, they are likely watching capoeira.
Normally, a crowd of people surround two individuals. They bow to one another and may then cartwheel, shake hands, etc- something to signal the start of the ritual. After that, they exchange in a series of kicks and punches, but without touching one another. The punchee must be attentive enough to react to the punch, and the puncher must know the limit of their opponent. Really skilled capoeira-ists would kick and spin at alarming speeds without touching their partner.
One night of Carnaval, we were standing around watching a performance (the one pictured), and one man from the inner circle came up to me (Cam) and motioned me inside. I obviously know nothing about capoeira outside of what I had seen in the previous two days, and I shook my head. But he was persistent, and maybe it was the bottle(s?) of sol I had consumed or the fact that I realized that this was a singular opportunity (do capoeira in Bahia during Carnaval!) but I stepped into the circle and prepared to fight.
First, I was wearing a dress, to they handed me some thin, wide white pants that I slid on. I then slyly stood on the outside of the circle, slightly hoping that they had forgotten about me, but then someone grabbed me and pulled me directly into the middle. I was standing there, face to face with a skilled capoeira-ist, not knowing what to do. Luckily, he told me to mimic his movements: step back with the left foot, then the right, then the left, then right. Then we began to air punch- in time with the feet, avoiding one another’s face. Finally, he told me to go for it- so I crouched down and went for his ankles.
I made him fall.
Just kidding. He was obviously really skilled, immediately avoided me, and I felt like I had sufficiently experienced performing capoeira in front of 100+ people. So I smiled and bowed out.
I don’t have pictured to put up now, but Preston has some that I will be sharing as soon as he uploads them to his computer!
Carnaval: No Naked Women, but Lots of Dancing
I’m not sure how often the debate comes up, but upon our arrival in Brazil we were forced to make the all-important decision- celebrate Carnaval in Rio or Salvador? Generally, Rio is flashier, fleshier, and more expensive; Salvador is more traditional, African-influenced, and democratic. So, because we were all somewhat broke (and because we had spent 5 straight days in the drizzle of Rio) we headed north– 30+ hours- to the sunshine of Salvador da Bahia.
Carnaval in Salvador is divided into a series of circuits that the bands and their loyal fans follow for hours every night. Some circuits are more family-oriented (one had children out celebrating at 2am), some are more party-oriented (one had a vendor selling shots every turn you made), and some are just a mess of people that make it hard to figure out exactly what they are oriented towards.
You can also celebrate Carnaval in a variety of ways. It appeared that with most tourists, they preferred to buy a week’s package at a club along a circuit, and enjoy an open bar and food buffet. Of course, this also cost a minimum of US$100/ night, so we did not indulge. A second option was to join a Carnaval troupe, and travel in a pack, dancing in the streets, surrounded by guards and a rope so no one could get in. Of course, you also had to pay, so we decided against this as well. The third (and free) option was to simply go out onto the street and wander around. We preferred this because we could see more floats and listen to more types of music, although it also put us in the path of pickpockets (both Preston and Zach had repeated- but unsuccessful- pickpocketing attempts), and mobs (one drunken mob rushed forward and we were pushed against a wall).
Our biggest challenge to get to the circuits was transportation. We stayed in a gorgeous apartment with a beach view, but it was in the suburb of Pituba, which is about 30 minutes from downtown as the crow flies, but took waaaayyy more time in both bus and taxi. This is likely because there are just a few roads going over the hills into town, because all the buses (hundreds and hundreds of buses take the same route), and because traffic was a mess during Carnaval. We tried dozens of combinations- more expensive mini-buses, normal buses, bus transfers, driving (we rented a car), and taxis. We never figured out an ideal route.
The street scene for Carnaval was lively and exciting. Some of the best food we had in Brazil we bought on the street- especially meat skewers we lovingly referred to as “street meat.” We would spend $5 a night for dinner because we would indulge in meat, vegetables, manioc, and desserts and we walked around and took in the atmosphere.
Of course, we can’t leave out a description of the parades. Every one was themed, and the participants would wear their costumes the entire week (even if they weren’t performing that day). So there would be women walking around in white hooped skirts, men dressed up as Roman soldiers, the ubiquitous “Sons of Gandhi” and Egyptian pharaohs. It was like a week-long Halloween, but with more dancing and samba music. The floats would drift down the street, with a band playing samba, reggae, or some version thereof, and a half-dozen dancing shaking on top of a car, and the in front and behind the float would be any number of costumed musicians and dancers grinding in unison to the music as well. All in all, while Rio may have the flash, Salvador has the soul of Carnaval.
and we’re back (part II)
As promised, we are back to writing about Brazil. Well, sort of- we are on Latin American time, you have to remember!
At the moment, Emma is camping around Patagonia, with little access to a computer, but I talked to her the other day and she assures me she is healthy, alive, and loving the escape from the city.
I, on the other hand, have been continuing to write write write here in BA. Spending so much time in front of a computer leads to 2 things:
1. I have nothing interesting to write home about
2. I have gradually come to hate writing on the computer
However, I have decided to briefly ignore my hatred because I just had an amazing brunch (almost American-style– Swedish is close enough, right?) and because I need to satisfy everyone’s well-merited curiosity. And my parents told me to.
So, I will write a few passages about Brazil, see if I can manage to think up anything interesting that has happened since I’ve gotten back, and, in the meantime, if you really miss my writing, you can visit the websites I’ve been devoting my time to instead of the blog! Go to Argentinas Travel to see the restaurant section I have been compiling, or, if you dare, to Killer Start Ups to read some web site reviews.
Vitoria: Town of beautiful umbrellas, terrible hotels and good seafood
On our way to Salvador the 6 of us stopped in a little town by the name of Vitoria. Although we were heading north to escape the rain, Vitoria was not quite north enough. The first thing I noticed while entering the small port town was the beautiful umbrellas that lined the streets. Every woman and man had the most vibrant umbrellas, ranging from crazy colorful to floral patterns that rival Laura Ashley. Even with the gray rainy weather, my spirits were immediately lifted because of these paragua beauties.
While in Vitoria we stayed in a hotel that was supposedly “the nicer” between the two options our guidebook suggested. If this hotel was the nicest, then I would definitely never want to step foot in the other. We got two bedrooms with three small styrofoam mattresses, accopmained by wet pillows (luckily I brought my own, despite the harassment of the rest of the group). The rooms were damp and cold, but the showers were even worse. If it had been warm out, the lack of hot water would not have been a problem, but unfortunately it was pretty cold. There were also wires hangin around the shower, and while Russ was trying to somehow.. do something.. not so sure what.. he got a little electric shock. Needless to say, he was not happy and a little freaked out.
We were however able to find some really good seafood while staying here. We used our lonely planet’s food guide. Though after its hotel suggestions, I am surprised we trusted their food recommendation. We attempted to go to a resturant that no longer exists, but in its place there was an excellent little seafood spot. Moqueca is a specialty of Vitoria, and a seafood stew with some sort of special fish sauce. Sounds kinda nasty, but actually really really good. The fish most commonly used in Vitoria is the Pirao. As soon as the waiter came over, I asked what the best dish on the menu was (although Russ always objects to this inquiry, as I do it often… it lead us down the right path) and informed us that hands down Moqueca with Pirao was the best item and their particular specialty.
Vitoria was starved for tourists. It seemed that everyone we met wanted to befriend us and help us out. Emma, Russ, and Gabi meet a fiery girl named Mariana in a coffee shop. She showed the catalogue from her boyfriend’s bikini line. She told us she wanted an “American opinion” and did we think it looked professional enough, she asked. Emma and Gabi agreed that it had a few flaws (uneven skin tones and so forth) but Russ is still looking it over before he makes a final decision on the bikini matter.
