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!