Free Days

After a sleepless night thanks to a penetrating porch light, humidity imitating a swimming and a three hour time difference, I was wide awake from 4am.

After desperate tossing and turning and counting geckos on the wall, I decided on a walk along the beach. As I left the hostel I was immediately confronted with a smell, a strange mix of incence, humidity and fermenting fruit, impregnated in my mind from my first, and only other, trip to Bali, 23 years ago.

The beach was dark and deserted save for a group of intoxicated party-goers and a fisherman. A stroll along the road quickly took me to the source of the drunks - Club Double Six. A world away from my state of mind.

Eventually I got hungry and sighted a patio with tables and chairs and a sign that said "We serve breakfast, lunch, dinner". I looked around and realised, unfortunately, there was only a buffet. I sat down. Strange, no one was really acknowledging me. It took a while, but it slowly dawned on me that I'd walked in on a hotel's buffet breakfast, and no one had questioned me on it. How often does this happen? I sat and waited, wondering if they'd discover the imposter amongst their ranks.

I started with a cautious stroll past the piles of food and back to my table. No reaction. Next I got myself a coffee. Still no sign that there was going to be a sudden rush to frog march me off the premises. I shrugged inwardly - these fancy hotel patrons weren't going to miss an egg and a piece of toast or two - then I set off, ordering my eggs, and not even putting a dent in the unnecessarily large smorgasbord. As I ate my food I did have 'one of things is not like the other' running through my head. What really made my laugh was my exit, merrily ambling up the path to my pretend hotel room.

So, that was the beginning of my day. That night I was meant to pick Jess up from the airport at 8:45pm and had even ordered a taxi for 8pm just to make sure she wouldn't be left stranded. 8:10pm rolled around and I started to get restless. A taxi did pull up outside the hotel but two tall bonde guys started haulting their backpacks in the boot. Impatience got the better of me so I asked them if I could share a cab to the airport. And so it was that I finished the day with a free ride (because they refused to let me contribute) with some lovely guys from Norway.

Joey Goes to Bali - keeping up the tradition

Oh dear, it seems that some things just never change.

Welcome to Instalment Two of Joey Goes...

This time Joey is going to Bali. A short whirlwind visit, brought on by the celebration of the marital union between my friends Scott and Claire.

Now, to relate to you the beginning of my adventure:

For those of you that kept up with my previous journey, y0u will know I started it with a bang. Nothing like losing a plane ticket just before you're about to check in to get that adrenalin pumping. As my lovely boyfriend will eagerly attest to, I have a rather pig-headed mindset that I am always right. Given the following events, he might have some evidence to back him up. But I can already tell you it will do nothing to put a kink in my self-belief. So, there I am at Sydney airport, super early. I kill an hour writing a letter, glance up at the monitors and check the gate. 58. Ok, usual customs area to go through. Get through security and, as usual, am 'randomly selected' to be scrutinised in detaiI.

I stroll through the duty free shop, sample some Baileys (what? something wrong with 10am liquours?), find a free internet station and proceed to do all the things I didn't get to do at home. Strange.... I still haven't heard any final calls from my flight. Go to 59. Hmmm... China Airways? My heart rate starts picking up pace. I spin around and search for another monitor. 10:55am - Auckland, 10:55am - Taiwan, 11:05am - Auckland.... what? No 11am Denpasar???

I rush to a counter, "Excuse me. I think I've missed my flight". I'm having flashbacks to San Francisco where, after waiting for four hours, I miss my flight by 5 minutes.

Turns out I'm at the completely wrong end of the international terminal. Gate 30 people are meant to go through customs in a totally different area.

I have to bolt back through duty free, down escalors, jump on a bus, get shuttled around all the backsides of the planes, solo, run along more corridors and more duty free shops to be greeted by staff. Clearly they're waiting for that one inconsiderate passanger holding up the whole plane. The groundstaff lady berates me. "It clearly says Gate THIRTY on your boarding pass. We were just about to unload your luggage".

I have no answer.

I walk to my seat, head down, sure that everone knows it's me they've been waiting for.

Departure was 11am. 11:25am rolls around and we still haven't pulled away from the gate. Seems we're still waiting for clearance. Wow, who knew I could single handedly screw up a flight schedule?

So, I arrive in Bali, switch on my phone, and am greeted with 8 missed calls and various texts. Apparently my sister, who was meant to be arriving later that night, wasn't allowed to get on the plane. Passport wasn't valid for the minimum 6 months. I'm so happy to have my little sister starting off her travelling career in the traditions set by myself, and if I'm not mistaken, my mother too. Some things can never change.

This is the end. The only end, my friend

Well, the adventure has come to an end my friends. The thing is, I can still remember getting off the plane in Singapore, walking the humid streets and getting excited about eating icecream sandwiches, buying my crappy watch (that after 3 new batteries is still working) and losing my plane ticket. Time flies. Yes, I cut my holiday short. I left Ecuador a week or so early and skipped meeting Hardy in New Zealand all together. No, he didn't go there by himself. He's going to take his holidays at home. See if we can't annoy the hell out of each other in familiar surroundings.

In my last days in Ecuador I kept getting minor anxiety attacks when I thought about leaving South America, that I would no longer be surrounded by Spanish speaking people, or hear salsa, cumbia or reggaeton music blaring out of tiny pirated cd shops along the road. The idea of going back to Canberra, or Australia, a land of stringent health regulations regarding food preparation and where rules are enforced about the number of people allowed on a motorcycle, was very scary, and mildly depressing. Going through Santiago was a small way of weaning myself back into the western culture I think. The place definitely feels like a European city and even the cafes were playing music I'd be likely to hear at home.

The first thing that happened to me in Santiago was that I went to the ATM and got money out, then was convinced to taking a shuttle to my hostel. It wasn't until I was on my way to the hostel that I had time to ponder on exchange rates and prices, and wasn't until I was checking in that I realised I'd been SEVERELY ripped off on the shuttle price, but then, as a small compensation, it seems I got double the amount I should have out of the ATM. Now that I’m back in Oz (and even in New Zealand) I can’t find anywhere to change those pesos back to dollars).

My last impression of Santiago was the hundreds of people flying kites on a Monday afternoon. I don't think I've seen quite so many kites flying on any park or open area all over one city. In between getting ripped off and seeing kites, I walked streets. I went up Cerro San Cristobal and watched the sun set over the city. I saw some very impressive contemporary art from Korea at the museum, and saw various markets on sidewalks and grassy areas. Mostly though, I was just disappointed that most streets had shops that were closed. Not just Sunday, but Monday too.

From Santiago I flew to Auckland to visit my friend Fleur. Auckland was fairly uneventful and another step towards acclimatising to Australia. It was very hard to stop speaking Spanish though. I kept wanting to order in restaurants in Spanish or say ‘Gracias’ in stores. It also got some getting used to being able to drink water from the tap and putting toilet paper in the toilet and not in a bin beside it.

I don't know if I have come away from my trip with what I was hoping for. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life or what I should study so I can change my work... I do know that I really want to go back to South America, and that I definitely need to go back to Iquitos, visit May and his family and see their village. I have great plans to practice my Spanish at home and make Hardy learn it, but I'm sure that's one of those things that will fall by the wayside.

Although I did all the travelling by myself, I've made some great friends along the way. Thank you Kristina and Raffaella for making Cusco unforgettable, thank you Diego for taking me to your grandma's birthday and showing me life en el campo, thank you May for showing me the jungle, taking me to numerous beaches and rivers to swim in (and my Peru soccer jersey!)

The holiday is over and back to Canberra I go with loads of memories in my head and photos, a couple of extra kilos (both in the luggage and on the hips - gracias a los churros, icecream and numerous cakes I've been consuming), new friends around the world, and an obligation to find work again. I hope that my blog and photos have provided some interesting reads for you. This is my last blog about my trip, although, still to come, is the final part of Mike's blog.

Adios amigos. Hasta luego.

Otavalo - markets, crater lakes and chicha

Otavalo is about 2.5 hours north of Quito by bus, and is known for its market. The biggest day for the market is Saturdays, but I was told by another woman I met in Mindo, that Saturdays in Otavalo are mayhem, hordes of tourists are delivered there by the bus loads and there are markets there on any other day too. So Monday morning Sian and I headed off to Otavalo. We arrived, and ... the streets were deserted. It was barely 5pm and no one was around. The guy at the hostel said everyone was off partying because there was a celebration “Fiesta del Yamor” but even after we walked the streets we didn’t find any action.

We read in Lonely Planet about a restaurant called Yolanda’s del Yamor, only open for a few weeks a year, around the time of the festival. We figured that all the locals must be there, hiding from us, and thoroughly enjoying themselves so we decided to check it out the next day. Of course, the next day, after having walked for several hours through the countryside to a bird farm and a healing tree, by time we got to Yolanda’s place at 7:40pm, it was already closed!! At least the streets weren’t quite as deserted as the day before, but still pretty empty.

The next day we got a lift to Lake Cuicocha, and crater lake, that you can walk around. At the point we got dropped off it was so incredibly windy we could stand at an angle to the ground. Thankfully it was blowing away from the water otherwise we may have gone tumbling down a cliff face. The scenery was picture perfect. The path wasn’t too hard, although it did disappear a couple of times, and tried to trick us by having two signs saying ‘This way’ but pointing down two separate directions.

When we got back, we finally made it to Yolanda’s. It wasn’t really a partying kind of place, but it was definitely filled with locals all eating platos tipicos and chicha del yamor, a chicha made from 7 varieties of corn. We ordered two glasses and we delivered a jug of at least half a litre of chicha. This was possibly the sweetest chicha I’ve tried yet, but non-alcoholic. Maybe that explained the lack of partying.I’d saved most of my souvenir shopping for Otavalo so over the 4 days, I bought more and more stuff, ignoring any excess baggage or customs implications. Every morning I’d wake up so early and I go and walk through town watching the locals set up their stalls. The size of the bags some of these people were carrying was amazing. It seems like so much effort to put up and take down all the stalls, from scratch, every morning and afternoon. I tried to take photos of the woman in their traditional dresses but most of them were shy and would either conveniently turn away or just straight out say ‘no’ when I asked.

Celebrity Blog - By Mike Rogers (Part 1)

Friday, August 31st

Touchdown!!! I had arrived in Quito and I was ready for whatever was waiting for me. After clearing customs, getting a ride to the hotel and checking-in, I began to wonder how on Earth I was going to find Joey. Hmmm…
But before I could figure that out, the phone rang.

It can be quite strange to see someone that you haven’t seen in years. It had been almost 3 years since I last saw Joey but it felt like mere weeks. Someone ought to give that phenomenon a name.
After catching up a bit, we decided to check out some of Quito. Our destination: Gringo-Ville (I mean, where else would we go on first night).
All I can tell you is that things started off with a sense of sanity. But before long, we happened across a bar whose specialty was shots. It didn’t take long before the bartender convinced me to buy a bottle of sugar rum and some mixers even though he didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Spanish. I cannot tell you how long we were there for or how many shots were consumed or how Joey and I got home.

Saturday, September 1st

Have you ever had that, what the hell did I do last night feeling? Yeah, that was I on Saturday morning. I felt like hell! Misery loves company so I was quite pleased when Joey told me that she felt terrible as well. Yes, this is typical for a Joey and Mikey reunion. Just ask her about her trip to Chicago a couple of years ago.

At one point in our convalescence, Joey asked me if we were going to actually see some of Quito or just stay in bed. Of course we had to see what Quito had to offer so begrudgingly, I got out of bed.

It didn’t take long before I had my first real experience. On a packed bus to Old Town, my pocket was picked. Joey had warned me about such occurrences. I planned to move my wallet to a more secure pocket but all the alcohol consumed the night before along with a butterfly fluttering past me totally rendered me an imbicile. Such is life…

Sunday, September 2nd

Minus a wallet but armed with the omnipotent Joey, the real adventure began. We caught a bus to…whereever! We stopped in a town called Baeza. We arrived at this town where we were greeted by about 1,000 dogs. To help you picture this place, this town has maybe 200 people in it. There was some sort of town championship of volleyball going on so we watched that for a bit...totally ridiculous to say the least. This town also featured a collection of wild animals...none of which has ever been seen by anyone in civilization. There was a half pig half dinosaur creature with the snout of an elephant. (joey's note: commonly known as a Tapir to the rest of the world) There was also a llama that Joey and I unsuccessfully tried to steal. There were also tons of African goats. We also went walking through the local ‘park’ where we were assaulted by various creatures and insects. I most likely have yellow fever now.

After out little jaunt through the town that took all of an hour, we returned to the main road to watch the conclusion of the regional volleyball championship. After eating at a little roadside café, Joey went to throw her rubbish away and I heard her shriek. I immediately thought that she had been striken with illness. She came over to me with a look or horror and told me to have a look in the bin. Of course, there was no chance in life that I would. What she had discovered were a pair of doggy legs sicking out of the bin. Apparently, the bin was the depository for dead dogs as well. After that, it was time to leave Baeza.
We caught the next bus to Tena where our adventure would continue.

Upon arriving in Tena, we found lodging for the night.

(To be continued when Mike decides blogs are more important that work)

Rogers' Law

I couldn't think of what to call this blog entry. Mike's Misfortune? City Slickers? If I Didn't Have Bad Luck, I'd Have No Luck At All?

I feel sad writing this blog. Not that it is any reflection on my time in Ecuador with Mikey. Or maybe it is. Mike is the sort of friend that you don't see for years and when you do finally catch up, it's like it was just yesterday. I think I'm sad that there is a 6 foot+ gap at my side, and also, that my time in South America is coming to an end.

Mike and I started our 9 days together in style, staying at the JW Marriot where men in fancy outfits hold doors open for you, carry your luggage (in my case a well travelled, shabby backpack, that couldn't look more out of place) and even open car doors. It was wonderful until I was told I couldn't check in until 3pm. I felt even more out of place when, at 3pm, I was told I can only enter the room after Mike arrives, which wasn't going to be until after 8pm. So, in hiking boots, pants and fleece I proceeded to change in the glitzy lobby so I could go to my salsa lesson.

Our first night started with mojitos, ended with long island iced teas and had a bar that sold only shots in the middle. At the bar Mike bought a whole bottle of aguardiente (sugarcane rum) and got a group of Colombians very drunk.

Day two started slow because the fuzziness, courtesy of the shot bar, took a while to fade. We did eventually head out to the old town, by bus. Before getting on, I believe I said to Mike, word for word 'Guard all of your things. These places are notorious for pickpockets'. So of course, four stops later Mike realises his wallet has gone. The thief will have been disappointed when he realised it only contained cards (had he gone for the other pocket he'd have been $300 cash richer) but it did create a lot of grief for Mike who spent the rest of the day on the phone to the US cancelling cards. Lucky Mike also got cut off 3 or 4 times right at the crucial moment of the call. So that was the end of that day.

The next day we started with plans to see sites, but they got dropped due to lack of motivation and we caught a bus to Coca, getting off in Baeza (a town on the way I picked for a stop over). Our stop involved finding a hotel for the night (and paying), going for a walk, watching the weekly game of Ecuadorian volleyball, eating some food and .... errr... a gut turning encounter with a rather unexpected site in the trash bin. (check the photo for yourself). Maybe it was the bin that did it, or maybe it was just that we'd been there for 3 hours and had run out of stuff to see and do, but we got on the next bus out of town. I hadn't planned too well since no buses from Baeza went to Coca, so instead our plans changed and Tena became our jungle destination.

We picked a short, but activity packed trip. Things already seemed to be starting off badly when we were told that there were no gumboots in all of Ecuador in Mike's size. As I told you before, gumboots seem to be essential in the jungle. Eventually some turned up that sort of fitted and off we went. The first adventure was climbing a mountain, standing thigh deep in pools and scaling up waterfalls with ropes and all. Heading back we could already hear thunder and before too long, we were soaked by torrential rains and the steep downhill track turned into a muddy creek. Anyone that thinks height might help with walking up or down things, is wrong. Mike couldn't have looked more out of his element. He wasn't wearing his glasses because of the rain, he had to duck twice as far under overhanging branches, his toes were being crushed by going downhill in boots that were too small. He came back 3 times as muddy as the rest of us because he just gave up and slid downhill for some parts on his backside :) To add to his discomfort, Cityslicker Mike packed light. REALLY light (only one bumbag) and spent the time changing from one wet item of clothing to another. He also swore off the gumboots for the rest of the trip.

We had a medicinal plant walk and then changed locations to what seemed luxury jungle accommodation, with electricity, some 60 metres high up on a cliff overlooking river and rainforest. In the morning we headed out on another walk to a village. It was along the flat and thankfully, for Mike's sake, uneventful. The village was pretty deserted but we only went into one of the houses where the guide explained about Quichuan houses, kitchens and their chicha (made from yuca, same as 'taro' in Fiji). We had read, and been told, that this chicha is traditionally made by women chewing it and spitting it into a vat and then collecting and drinking it. Sounds revolting, right? Well, no one said anything about the chewing when we were in the village and I refused to let anyone ask or even bring it up. To refuse chicha that is offered to you is considered rude, but to have to drink something that you KNOW has been chewed by someone else's mouth? Ignorance is bliss I say!

Mike came back from falling asleep in the hammock, carry his glasses in two parts. He's managed to snap them while sleeping and his contacts were back in Tena. Poor Mikey. He chose sleeping over tubing that afternoon. The rest of us went tubing down a fairly quiet, warmish river. It was non-adrenalin pumping but we exchanged myths and legends and I managed to recount the story of why the river people are afraid of pink dolphins, IN SPANISH! That river joined the Napo which was freezing!! The Napo flows all the way to Peru, and specifically Iquitos where I swam in it weeks ago and it was significantly warmer, and then joins another river to become the Amazon.

That night, back in Tena, I was sitting at the internet when I hear a voice behind me say 'If I didn't have bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all'. Poor old Mike. One of the sides of this contact case wasn't closed properly, the liquid had drained out and he had one dried, shrivelled lens.

Back in Quito, back in the luxury of the JW Marriot, Mike with his replacement ATM card. Life was back to normal. We had to do the touristy thing and go to the middle of the earth, of which there are two. At the commercial one we mainly took our cheesy photos. At the 'actual' equator is a museum, and a line, where we took more cheesy photos, I made an egg balance on a nail, and we watched water drain differently in the northern and southern hemispheres.

Our days together ended like they started. With alcohol. Sian, a friend of mine from Canberra, who also happened to be in Quito, joined us. We went from mojitos, to another bar, to the notorious shot bar and finally just made it sitting down in one last one before everything came to pieces. For Sian anyway, who we had to carry home and who didn't leave bed or bathroom until very late the next day.

Mike too, couldn't shake the theme of bad luck. At 5:40am I woke up to find Mike still sleeping in the bed next too me. His plane was at 6:25am. Good old Mikey had hung up on the poor lady making the wake up call, and god knows what happened to the alarms he'd set :) Good one Mike!

All ends well. Hangovers pass, eventually, flights can be changed, and friends forgive friends for getting getting mad at them. I forgive you Mike! Thanks for everything!

Musap - Staying with a Shuar family

I was headed for Musap, the family of Ernesto Vargas' wife Marcia, with no idea of how easy it would be to find the place, if anyone knew I was coming or what might await me there. When I stepped off the bus I immediately saw that this family was indeed as friendly and welcoming as I had been told. I was greeted by three children coming towards me, (Lisa - 14, Edgar - 9 I think, Jhair - 7 I think) all smiles and offering to help with bags. Three of a family of eleven, aged 3 to 28. Not all of them were there during my visit but instead there were already the children´s children. Three year old uncles playing with 3 year old nieces and nephews. Ernesto, the father, whom I didn't meet, has two families. That's two current wives. The one I visited and another where he had 15 children but only 11 are living now. Both families live on large pieces of land, not too far away from each other. My family has had volunteers stay that worked on building water tanks for safe water and various backpackers come and stay. The other family has a more established eco/volunteer program with a Danish organisation.

My room was very simple. A wooden base with a thin foam camping mat, a mosquito net and a door with nothing to close in the door frame. I was grateful the Israelis told me to bring my sleeping bag because, even though I was in the jungle, it got pretty cool at night. After heading out with Lisa for a walk to a lookout on their property so see the volcano Sangay, the two of us headed into the village to play soccer. Us two girls and the rest boys of varying ages from the village. I had no clue what I was doing, except occasionally running towards someone who was expertly manoeuvring the ball, only to chicken out at the last minute from intercepting them. After soccer we went to shower. Since there are no showers at the house, it gets done at the outdoor showers at the school in the centre of the village, wearing underwear or swimmers.

The second day I went for a walk down to the river with German (21). It was a nice walk but as they use their land to cultivate various plants like bananas and also have cows, most of the area is only secondary forest. We went swimming in the foot deep river with an extremely strong current (the self exposure photos all ended up with me either still running or slipping and falling on the rocks as I rushed to get into place). German went fishing by hand for some fish that sit under the rocks in the sand. He caught one and they cooked it for me for dinner but I never actually got to try it. When I asked him if he wanted some and offered him the fish, he took the whole thing. I guess he was the one who caught it after all. While he was fishing I think I got eaten alive by sandflies. The next day when I headed to Baños and for at least 3 days later my legs were completely covered in incredibly itchy, red bites. On the way back I also found a huge grasshopper. Two actually, being.. er... busy.

In the afternoon we were off to play soccer again. I'd already decided that I was too useless to play again but before I got a chance to beg-off I found myself doing a warm-up and leg session with five other girls that had turned up. I swear, that 15 minutes killed my hamstrings for the next 4 days too, leaving me with really itchy and sore legs for 4 days. I was in so much agony in Baños I ended up doing a yoga class and getting a massage to try to fix them. 3.5 months of travel and I'm afraid I'm severely out of shape. I did get out of playing soccer though and started my renegade game of volleyball with the goalie, using the goal as our net.

(our goalie, being very attentive)

We had our daily shower and walking home, in the dark, managed to step on something that flicked back up towards me. Lisa screamed and jumped away. Kids came running. I'd stepped on a culebra (snake). Luckily I'd forgotten my flipflops for after the shower and had to put my sneakers back on. Otherwise the snake would have bitten clean into my foot. The boys that had come running proceeded to beat the poor snake to death. It wasn't until after they started holding the snake up for photos that I saw the amazing colours the snake had on it's underside.

(Taking and posing for photos was a big thing, so for the most part, my camera was never in my possession and Lisa took photos of everything and anything.)

If anyone is coming to Ecuador and wants to experience something outside of the usual touristy thing, I would definitely recommend going and visiting Musap, the house of Ernesto Vargas' wife, Marcia. They are genuinely friendly and welcoming people and what you do there, totally depends on what you want to do.

A few small towns

MINDO
So, after being sick for a few days in Quito, I caught a bus to Mindo. When I got off I was approached by an easy going lady who asked me if, by any chance, I knew where I was going. 'No'. Was I looking for a room? 'Yes'. So that's how I came to stay in her wooden house with many rooms and hammocks and porches and great breakfasts and lots of birds.

I didn't do much in Mindo except go on a few walks, go to a Frog Concert where they showed us a really really really big cockroach (at least 15cm, if not more. It had red wings and, from someone that finds cockroaches disgusting, looked pretty impressive), and see loads of hummingbirds. I've never seen hummingbirds in real life before. Hummingbirds are like people with too much caffeine in their system. I'm sure the movements of the players of Quidditch in the Harry Potter movie were modelled on their movements.

I also met two Israelis that excitedly told me about a family they had stayed with in the jungle. The family was wanting more people to come and stay and I had been planning on going in that direction anyway so, after Mindo, off I went back to Quito and via Puyo to find this family.

PUYO
While not the hot, sticky jungle town, filled with motocarros, that Iquitos and Pucallpa were, Puyo was nice enough. Easy, quiet, though I seemed to have picked days to visit when half the tourist sites were closed.

Highlights? The President of Ecuador waved to me! He was in town when I was there and I saw his entourage leave town. From what I saw of him, hanging out the window waving to Puyo'ians, he's quite young, for a president, and not too bad looking! Well, again, for a president.

I also found some fruit that looked very similar to dragon fruit, but is yellow on the outside. Everyone was telling me 'oh, it's great for cleaning out your insides'. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Well, after eating THREE of them because they were so delicious I soon found out that everyone was telling the truth after all.

From Puyo I got on the bus to Macas in search of this 'family'. My instructions: ''Catch the bus to Macas, tell the ticket boy you want to get off at Kilometre 54. It's close to San Ramon. They call the house Musap, I don't know why.'' That was all I knew. I had sent them an email but not heard back. I felt really weird just turning up somewhere, firstly not even really know where it was and secondly, not knowing if they were expecting me. The Israeli couple had assured me it would be fine but I still didn't feel entirely comfortable. As it turned out, the ticket collector dropped me at the bottom of a longish path, going up a hill. From where I was standing on the side of the road, I could see a bit of a house and already three children were running in my direction. ¿Eres Geraldine? Si, soy Geraldine :) YEY! They were expecting me! More on Musap in the next blog entry.

BAÑOS
From Musap to Baños, surrounded by big green mountains on all sides. I'd planned to go mountain biking and rafting on my full day here, but I never heard back from the agency confirming the trip and as it turned out, it was raining the next morning anyway. So, instead, I spent most of my time there walking up various paths and eating milcocha (a type of toffee they make by stretching it back and forth across a hook on a wall).

I also had my first steam bath. You know the wooden box that you sit in with only your head sticking out? Something you might see Scrooge McDuck sitting in. Or Albert Einstein. Or some other men from a black and white movie. It went something like, from steam box, to a routine (right side, then left) of washing yourself off with a cold wet cloth. Repeat several times. Then suddenly I had to sit in a tub of freezing water massaging my stomach. I think my heart nearly stopped, the water was so cold. Back to the steam box. The whole procedure ended with the guy hosing you off with something about a gentle as a fire hose. It's definitely one of those things where you forget the pain quickly because I was considering having another one the next morning.

Day 1 in Quito

That's 'Day 1' that I actually left my hostel for more than 30 minutes. I've actually been here 2 days now, I think. My brain is still a little fuzzy.

It's Sunday, no cars are allowed in the Old Town of Quito, the sun is out, and I'm going to try to do the walking tour from the Lonely Planet.

It took me until 11am to get out of the house. I went to the market to find some food and ended up getting some random liver/kidney/stomach of beef mix. URGH! Every food stall was selling stomach. I thought I got lucky by picking something that wasn't white, spongy and frilly but they TRICKED ME by disguising it. Oh well, the rice, boiled egg and potato with the spicy salsa I heaped on top was tasty.

I'm excited, I only finished half the walk but I managed to find a good (great!) coffee place, see various churches - but the best one was La Compañia de Jesús which is FILLED with gold (apparently 7 tonnes of it), hang out in the really really pretty and relaxed Grande Plaza that even had a selection of live music and have an argument (persuasive discussion really) with the watch-fixer-man who was trying to tell me east was west, and west was east. I convinced him I was right and he fixed my watch. I found a place called Fruteria Montserrat that sells fruit salads, cream and ice-cream (amongst other irrelevant things on the menu), barely anyone whistles or calls out to me here (haha! maybe I just look noticeabley worse!) and everything feels safe and relaxed. I don't want to get too careless, but WOOT!!! my watch works, the pedestrians crossing make bird noises, everything is great.

I felt nothing of the earthquake, and other things I did in Iquitos.

Ok, so first of all, many apologies to those people that were concerned for my safety after hearing about the earthquake in Peru. I actually heard very little about it. Not only have I not heard much in the way of news but when I see the papers I just gloss over them because the Spanish is too difficult. I was in Iquitos and, from what I can gather, the worst of the earthquake was near Pisco, sort of near where I was in Chala. Also, I thought the earthquake was merely a tremble, nothing to be worried about.



So I was very wrong. I'm ok and I hope no one is worried anymore. Again, sorry for causing stress.





Other things I did it Iquitos other than go to the jungle. On the first day Fernando and I visited the floating suburb of Belén. It is a very poor area and we were constantly reminded to guard everything, even my hat. Houses further away from the river are made of concrete and all have two floors because in the wet season they only live in the top one. The houses closer to the river are built on raft like constructions that rise up off the ground in the wet season, and float.









We also went to a beautiful lagoon called Quitacocha, part animal park, part swimming beach. The best part was the swimming. Refreshing, cooling and relaxing. We rented a boat and, with plates of food, picnicked in the middle of the lake.













After the jungle days, on one day May and I went to visit two villages, Indiana and Mazán. From Mazán we found someone to take us to a beach in the middle of the river. Getting out of the boat was interesting. I encountered some of the softest mud ever. I sunk in almost to my knees. When the boat came to collect us it was even scarier. We must have walked to some even softer mud because I sunk in so far with both feet that I couldn't get out again without May's help. It's like being in powder snow. Once you're in, there is nothing with resistance to push against to get out again. The other thing I saw in Mazán was logs. Logs, logs and more logs. All rainforest and jungle, being cut down, and not replaced.

Another day we went to a village called Santa Clara where they were celebrating the towns anniversary. We were wanting to go to a beach to go swimming, but it seemed like the whole town had the same idea. When we got to the beach, it was like a giant beach party. Two stages with dancing (including a group of men in short shorts), aerobics and drinking competitions, loads of volleyball games, hundreds of people in the water playing with beach balls and countless food stalls.

Just before we left I said I still needed to play volleyball, so I played with some little kids. I managed to split my shorts. All the way. A huge gaping hole showing bright green underpants. The kids thought it was hilarious. Ok, so I did too. Thankfully it was dark by the time we got off the boat and to the motocarro and me back to my hostel.
















It seems all my things are slowly giving up; My lovely cheapo watch from Singapore no longer works, no matter how many times I wack it against the wall; split shorts; I'm up to sunglasses set number 3; my t-shirts have permanent stains but they have to last for another 2 months; and my digestive system is under attack for the forth time. Every time it gets worse I think. This time I have fever. What am I doing wrong?














So anyway, on one of the last days we went to Pilpintuwasi (a butterfly farm). When we got there I was already melting from the heat. We got a tour of the butterflies, their eggs and cocoons, but I was too hot to concentrate on the information, so I just looked at the pretty colours. They had animals there too. Orphaned animals. More tapirs, giant rats, turtles and a puma. They also had a myriad of monkeys, two of which knew how to pickpocket and steal anything you happened to have on your body that wasn't secured. They didn't managed to steal anything from us and were generally very sweet.

One very serious looking monkey(above) was looking through everybody's hair with great concentration.

Another kept coming back to sit on to my lap, like a little child. All of them tried to hang off us like we were some sort of play equipment.

And that was the end of Iquitos and the end of Peru really. The only thing that happened after that was that I got very cold and was in the jungle wearing a long sleeved shirt, a polar fleece and pants, wishing for my down blanket. I had a fever. Under May's insistence, with various drugs we managed to lessen the symptoms but by the time I arrived in Lima that night my stomach had given up. I went to the clinic the next day, a few hours before I fly to Ecuador. 38 degree fever and some infectious diarrhoea. Great. While I'm sure the majority of you don't want to know these things, it's just that it KEEPS HAPPENING to me, so I think it's worth writing about :) More antibiotics. Now I am in Quito, Ecuador. I'm feeling better, but don't have energy to do much except spend hours on the internet writing blog entries and lying on my bed. At least the hostel is quiet and my room is dark so I managed to sleep until 8:30am. That's 2.5 hours more than normal. YIPEE!!!

That is all for now, my dear family and friends. I have done nothing else, so have no more stories to tell. I hope you are all well and I will let you know when I get my act together to actually do something else.

OOPS... I forgot to add, I also went out salsa dancing to a cuban group. In reality, I managed to do all danced BUT salsa. I don't know what happened. I cusco I managed to wing it. In Iquitos, it was just a totally embarrassment. I have never ever felt like I had three left feet, like I did that night. I decided Iquiteños dance salsa differently and that's where the problem lies :)

(the boats at Quistachocha)