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Wandering North

Chronicling my travel adventures since 2007

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    • Africa
      • Algeria
      • Benin
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      • Sudan
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Tag: South America

Posted inPeru South America

Machu Picchu

Aguas Calientes is a small town at the base of Machu Picchu sitting astride the Rio Urubamba. The town exists, it seems, for the purpose of housing the throngs of visitors to Machu Picchu.

You can only reach the town by rail or by foot. We arrived by Inca Rail and are leaving by Peru Rail (the latter is better choice, in hindsight).

The town, despite its diminutive size is crammed with restaurants, hotels, and souvenir/craft shops and stalls. The restaurants and hotels are all overpriced and mediocre, banking on the facts that if you want to visit Machu Picchu, you have to pass through. It’s a nice place to spend a night though and it is fun to walk the steep streets and over the bridges crossing the river.

We arrived in the evening and checked into our accommodations: the Supertramp Backpacker Hostel. For the money, it was the best choice as far as i could tell. We had a private room, but with (uncomfortably public) bathrooms. It was comfortable with a good restaurant and a pleasant terrace bar. The place was packed with young backpackers from all over, trading tales of Machu Picchu hikes had and anticipated.

I went out for dinner and a cigar and watched tourists dodge the restaurant and massage touts and dogs playing in the street. (An alarming number of dogs here wear clothes. I cannot explain this phenomenon.) The weather was warm in the evening and perfect for a stroll.

We awoke this morning at 4:30 am and readied ourselves for Machu Picchu. Breakfast on the square during a short lived but torrential rainstorm. Queuing up for the buses to the top. Zigging and zagging our way on the bus to the top, at each turn coming what seemed to be perilously close to plummeting down into the valley below. The mountains – sharp, green shards exploding out of the earth were covered in puffy foliage and surrounded by shrouds of mist that were simply magical.

At the top we were in the sun and we commenced exploring. We hired a guide for the first couple of hours, which was a good choice as we got to learn about the history and engineering of the site, as well as the many practical aspects of the architecture. The other bonus of hiring a guide is that it took away any stress i may have had of trying to navigate the nooks and crannies to see it all. We took lots of stops for photos.

Once we were on our own we continued exploring, climbing up and down very steep and jagged stone stairs, which were generally unsecured on one side by walls, meaning that a misstep could lead to a serious fall. We were careful – Betty-Lou being averse to heights and i being prone to falls. It was exhilarating though and each level climbed led to new discoveries. There were llamas lazing on the top of the grass terraces and we saw a chinchilla sleeping in a window of an Incan temple.

The place was amazing. The ruins and the spectacular setting.

We descended from the mountain and spent the late afternoon hanging around and relaxing and fending off sleep.

Currently we are on board the Peru Rail train to Poroy (the closest station to Cusco). The train is quite fancy (they just fed us dinner and drinks) and although it is too dark now to take in the view through the huge windows, the ride is relaxing. Tonight we return to our hostal in Cusco and tomorrow is a mystery.

I am pleased that Machu Picchu did not disappoint.
dale

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Posted on 8 November 14
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Posted inPeru South America

Into the Sacred Valley

Yesterday we awoke in Cusco and took a taxi down into the valley to Ollantaytambo. We could have taken public transport for a pittance, but having our own car enabled us to stop at sights along the way for photos of llamas, burros, and marvelous views.

We descended steeply into the valley below Cusco (aka “the sacred valley”). We passed fields of patchwork farmland where men and women tilling the soil and planting by hand or with the aid of oxen and burros. The women still wore their traditional dress, including their tall, proud hats.

We stopped at Chinchero (at more than 12,000 feet apparently) where we visited a little area where women were weaving the incredible Peruvian tapestries and blankets and knitting the woolly shawls and hats sold everywhere. It was obviously geared towards tourists, but it was still interesting to see how they spin the alpaca yarn and dye it vivid hues using leaves, flowers, bark, and bug blood.

Heading on our way, past mud brick houses and women selling yet more handicrafts by the roadside we stopped to take more pictures as we neared the bottom of the valley.

Finally (after about two hours) we reached Ollantaytambo. It is a really charming town of about 700 people nestled in the mountains. It has a cute and tiny plaza with narrow, stone streets (many pedestrian) radiating out from it, and lined with old stone houses. Centuries old.

On the mountains around the town are the impressive remains of an Incan fortress. There is a small market, various restaurants catering to tourists, and a decent crafts market. Most delightful. Shortly after we arrived a seemingly random religious procession was led through the town by a white robed priest (?) and followed by a tuneless marching band, and maybe two dozen residents, covered in pink and white confetti.

We walked the town and i had a cigar while we watched the local woman in their colorful skirts and saucer-like red hats carry bushels of grass, baskets of bread and small children around by strapping them to their backs with colorful, woven blankets.

We left Ollantaytambo by train, on the Inca Rail to Aguas Callientes – the town at the base of Machu Picchu. The train trip was a little under two hours and was very enjoyable, passing by the Urubamba River and mountains that grew increasingly steep.

It was a lovely train ride – except for one thing. If there is one type of music that i universally loathe it is Peruvian (or South American – i know other countries are equally responsible for this abomination) pan pipe music. I find it especially distasteful when the songs being played are American or British pop songs. Well, that is exclusively what was played on the train throughout the journey. Peruvian pan pipe versions of ‘Hey Jude’, ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’, etc. I mean, come on. They must be able to do better than this. ‘Careless Whisper’ should never be reproduced on a pan flute. However, they did provide complimentary snacks and beverages, so that almost made it bearable. (almost)

Arrived in Aguas Callientes after dark, with just the silhouettes of the mountains visible against the near black sky.

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Posted on 7 November 14
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Posted inPeru South America

Llama Land

We arrived in Cusco yesterday morning after a short, hour long flight from Lima. Cusco was sunny and warmer than Lima, although being high in the Andes, the temperature quickly changes to cool and cold. Cusco sits in the Andes at 10,100+ feet above sea level, which is a about twice as high as Denver and about 2,500 feet higher than Bogota, by comparison. Aside from feeling a bit winded and having a bit of a headache though, it’s not bad.

Our hotel – the Amaru Hostel – is wonderful. Bright yellow with two flowery courtyards and views over rooftops of the city. Our room is small and cozy. We are in the San Blas district of Cusco, which is a short walk from the main square, although that short walk is up (or down, depending on your direction) a very steep street lined with anorexic sidewalks paved with slippery, centuries-old stones. It’s an adventure.

The first day we had the late afternoon, during which we walked the city, getting our bearings, and enjoying the cobbled streets, welcoming squares, and numerous cathedrals and churches.

The city is delightful and is so different from Lima, and even different than other places i have been in South America. Maybe because it is so historic and well preserved, or maybe because of how touristy it is. So far, we like it; lots of places to explore.

Being a very touristy town, unlike on Lima, there are tourists everywhere and the usual touts promoting the best tours, restaurants, souvenirs, etc. English is more widely spoken, but by no means is it universal. I am adding Spanish words and phrases to my lexicon daily.

We went to some of the main cathedrals, through the main plaza, and then to an alleged chocolate “museum” (really just a shop) where i had some wonderful and spicy hot chocolate outside in the square. After that we went walking until we stumbled upon the Mercado San Pedro, Cusco’s main market.

There are stalls selling handicrafts, but it is predominantly a food market. Stalls of produce, including massive yellow squash and white cauliflowers and sinister black corn; aisles of women selling made to order fruit and veg juice concoctions; walls of rounds of white, salty cheese; stacks of bread, both hearty and decorative; aromatic peppers and spices; fresh olives; huge white sacks of quinoa and other grains….It was endless and wonderful.

We bought some cheese and bread before wandering down to the food stalls where people cook and sell fresh from the market meals to hungry locals. Along side that are rows of fishmongers and butchers. The butchers were some of the most remarkable i have seen. The ground was bloody and dogs ran free searching for dropped scraps. Piles of skinned bulls heads lay on the ground. On the counters were mounds of pristine white stomachs, baskets of red hearts, assorted organs, eyeballs, brains, spinal cords, more skinned heads, and stacks of snouts (from what animal i am not sure). I took as many pictures as i could without making a nuisance of myself.

After that we had coffee and a cigar on a patio on a square (it would seem that the smoking rules are more relaxed here) before having dinner and, after yet more wandering, heading to bed.

Today has been a but more of the same – wandering and exploring the streets and sights, eating, picture taking, etc. currently, we are taking a break at the hotel to wait out a particularly cold rain.

I should say, today was especially similar to yesterday because late yesterday, i lost my camera. Not stolen. Lost. I know where i left it. I don’t lose things and certainly not while traveling when i am especially vigilant, but i got lazy or negligent and i lost it. It was a cheap camera, so the loss in that sense is not great. The pictures are all i care about. The only thing that kept my from panicking is that all of my pictures (except from yesterday) were already backed up on the iPad, so nothing was lost. Today we back tracked to the market and a church or two so i could retake some of the pictures. Now for the remainder of the trip Betty-Lou and i shall be sharing a camera. One less thing to carry home for me i guess.

None of this stopped me from getting about a million pictures of the Andean women in their standard and traditional dress of sturdy skirts, woolen leggings, sweaters, long black braids, and tall, brimmed hats. I also have tons of pictures of the women dressed in colorful fancy dress and their baby llamas. Vancouver would be a much happier place if its streets were filled with baby llamas.

I don’t know what’s up for the rest of today, but tomorrow we head out of Cusco for an over night journey that includes Ollantaytambo, Aguas Callientes, and (of course) Machu Picchu.
dale

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Posted on 5 November 14
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Posted inPeru South America

Barranco

Our final day in Lima was quite relaxed. I had seen most of the things on my list so we just went for a nice meander down to the sea and than over to Barranco, a neighbourhood next to Miraflores, considered to be bohemian. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day for a stroll along the cliffs and then into Barranco. There isn’t a ton to see there, but it is a nice neighborhood with colorful buildings in just the right amount of disrepair to make them especially charming.

There is a legendary church built by fishermen in the 18th C after being led to shore safely by a phantom light. The church was built on that spot from which the light came. The church was damaged by a hurricane in the 1940s and has been left unrestored and uninhabited – except by flocks of huge, black vultures, making for a creepy site.

We walked down and around the paths in the neighborhood before settling in to an outdoor cafe under a tree, where we spent a couple of hours, relaxing and enjoying a cigar before winding out way back to the hotel through busy commercial streets, past colorful graffiti.

By the time we got back it was evening, so we went to a vegetarian restaurant in Miraflores for dinner. What it lacked in atmosphere is made up for in food – delicious vegetable soup with quinoa and ceviche made with tofu instead of seafood. Yum. My expectations for South American food as a vegetarian are so low (aside from the fruit, which is awesome) that it is a delightful surprise to be able to eat something other than potatoes and corn.

The next day we flew to Cuscso. I’ll save that for a separate post, however. All is well. Lima was lovely, but after two and a half days i was happy to move on.

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Posted on 5 November 14
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Posted inPeru South America

Bullfight

The previous day in Lima we had bought some tickets to the bullfight from a ticket counter at a supermarket. Lima’s bullfighting season runs from late October to early November, so the opportunity presented itself and this was something i had wanted to do for a long time. Admittedly, I think the idea of killing animals for sport or entertainment is morally indefensible, but i still wanted to see it, once. (I don’t eat animals either but i still love the butchery sections of markets. I can’t explain it. I just find it gruesome and fascinating.)

We walked out of the historic centre and across a highway and waterway into an area that is notably absent from the maps of Lima in all of my travel books. Across the way on a hill the slums of Lima are visible, with ramshackle houses seemingly piled on top of one another.

The area is distinctly poor, with buildings crumbling, chaotic traffic, the strong smell of urine, and dusty streets lined with lively but shabby buildings. I loved it. The area was busy with everyone gathering before the fight. Spanish music played loudly, some recorded and some live; men gathered to drink beer and smoke, and women grilled meat on the streets, making impromptu eateries out of a cart and plastic chairs. Most people wore fancy, wide-brimmed white hats, which was about the only spiffy thing in site. (Being the only obvious foreigners in site, i didn’t feel right taking pictures of the people, but i took this picture of a side street.)

We entered the bull ring: the Plaza Del Acho. It is the oldest bullring in the Americas, dating from 1766, and the second oldest in the world. The place was crammed full of spectators enjoying the pre-fight ambiance. Grilled meats, live bands, wine, beer & pico vendors – even a cigar vendor! It was very exciting.

People eagerly waited for the matadors and other “performers” to make appearances before the event. Finally it started. The arena holds 13,000 people was nearly full and we all sat on wooden benches.

The events opened with a traditional Peruvian dance done to a live brass band which played on and off throughout the fight.

Then the crowd cheered as the matadors entered the ring.

There were six bulls that afternoon. Each fight (it hardly seems like the right word but i haven’t a better one) follows the same formula. A bull is released. A half a dozen lesser matadors with fuchsia and yellow capes taunt the bull around the ring; getting it to run through their capes and around them. When the bull gets too close, they run and jump behind protective wooden barricades.

Then to trumpets the picadores enter the ring on horseback. They stab the bull with long spears between its shoulders. This causes the bull to bleed and get understandably pissed off. The bull then charges into the horse, often lifting it up and sometimes toppling the rider. This was exciting. The horses wear armour to prevent them from being disemboweled.

Then the matador appears, at first without his red cape. He begins by taunting the bull and stabbing it with six colourful, barbed instruments, which go into and hang down from the bull’s shoulders.

By now the bull is bloody, angry, and tired. The matador then arms himself with a sword and red cape and begins the dance wherein the bull charges, the matador waves his through the cape, the crowd shouts “olé”, and the matador struts cockily while the bull composes himself. This continues for a while during which time, a few times, the matadors are flipped, knocked down and nearly trampled, or in one case, gored in the leg. The always kept fighting, however (the matadors are pretty impressive. They must get laid constantly.) This was all kind of beautiful and very exciting when something went wrong. Make no mistake, i was rooting for the bull.

Then the matador stabs the bull with his sword, through the shoulders, into the chest, hilt deep. The bull bleeds from his wound and blood pours from his mouth. The bull staggers while the sub-matadors taunt the bull with their capes until it falls down (this is the worst part, in my opinion), at which point someone slits the bull’s throat. The body is dragged from the ring by horses to the sound of cheers. The matador struts around while people throw roses and hats.

It’s pretty cruel and awful, but also very interesting. I am definitely glad i went, though i don’t know if i would again. I loved the cultural experience, and the pageantry, the music, and costumes – i also loved that you could smoke cigars, which i did throughout the event. The torture and killing gives me pause.

Reflecting on all we had seen, we left and went back to Miraflores for a vegetarian dinner and sleep. A very full day indeed.
d

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Posted on 3 November 14
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Posted inPeru South America

Miraflores to Market

Day two in Lima started with breakfast at the hostal El Patio. Bread and olive spread, coffee, fresh juice and fruit. We started with a walk down to the sea. Lima sits along cliffs overlooking the ocean and on the cliffs is a wonderful pathway that meanders through parks, all with lovely views of the water and surfers catching waves.

Along the way Limeños were out for Sunday jogs and dog walks with some people working out with outdoor gym equipment that was set up along the way. We walked down to Larcomar, which is a very South Florida feeling outdoor mall, which also had some nice cafes with great views of the ocean, where we had a coffee.

We walked back to the hotel and then caught a taxi back to central Lima. We arrived at the Plaza where a marching band on horseback played triumphant music in front of the palace with other mounted men in full regalia waited on a side street for some sort of procession to start. We didn’t wait long enough to figure out what was going on but it was pleasant to take in the sights for a while.

We were on a mission to go to the central market for lunch. The central market is an enclosed, three story structure with vendors selling meat, produce, various other food items, and housewares. The meat sections were busy with various animals being butchered for sale, and the produce sections were colorful stalls selling familiar and exotic items. I love both equally. I dragged Betty-Lou through aisles of dead chickens, cow stomachs, and pigs feet before we bought some fruits (plums, pitaya, & granadilla) and had a fresh strawberry juice at a counter.

We had lunch at one of the counters next to the fish vendors where all the locals were eating (mind you, i didn’t see anyone aside from locals in the place). Betty Lou had some kind of mystery meat dish and i managed to wrangle a salad and some rice and beans. Eating vegetarian in South America always requires some extra explanation.

After lunch we walked through Lima’s small and crowded Chinatown before heading to our main destination for the day: the bullfight.

To be continued…

 

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Posted on 3 November 14
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Posted inPeru South America

Arriving in Peru

Lima!

We arrived mid-morning to a bustling airport and busy traffic as we made the drive in a taxi to Miraflores, the area in Lima in which we are staying. Miraflores being a slightly upscale area (by which i mean not slummy) centred around a pleasant city park (Kennedy Park) and extending down to the sea. Our accommodations – the Hostal El Patio – are delightful. Simple but comfortable rooms around a colorful and charming patio.

Miraflores is a pretty long walk through some not so interesting areas to the centro historico, so we have been taking taxis to that area. On day one, after settling in, we taxied to the Plaza San Martin, and then commenced walking around central Lima. Many large, stately buildings in classical styles with the unmistakable south american colors (yellow, mostly). The area around the Plaza de Armas is particularly lovely.

We walked the streets, checking out churches and side streets and stopping to photograph the guards at the national palace. The streets were busy with traffic and pedestrians and people selling random toys, candy, and other odds and ends. We walked over to the Monasterio de San Francisco, still a working monastery, but with a beautiful church and grounds to tour. Underneath the buildings are catacombs, filled with bones and crypts. (No photos allowed.) Though they were neither as labyrinthine or bone-filled as those in Paris, i still dug them. In certain areas we were directly below the cathedral and small vents above us let through light and the sound of the mass carrying on.

After that we headed back to Miraflores and to Kennedy Park where we looked at some art on display and marveled at the number of cats. Kennedy Park is an unofficial cat sanctuary. The place is filled with cats – beautiful, healthy looking cats roaming free, napping, sitting in trees….

We had dinner on a pedestrian street just off the square after which I went for walk and smoked a cigar before bed.

Some initial observations. Lima is certainly a lot fancier than Quito or Bogota. By comparison, it is clean and feels far safer and less dodgy. Very few children begging (unlike Quito) and there are not soldiers and armed guards on every corner (unlike Bogota). Very little graffiti. No packs of tough looking stray dogs. It’s very nice and i have enjoyed looking around, but i would rank it as somewhat less interesting than those other cities (since i prefer my cities on the dodgy and dangerous side).

Very little English is spoken, but thankfully my Spanish (what little i know) has come a long way. (Thanks to Duolingo & Sesame Street.) Betty Lou knows only two phrases – “i am a woman” and “with cheese” a but she says them beautifully.

The weather is perfect; a bit cool in the mornings and evenings, and warm in the afternoon.

Smoking? Well, it seems that Lima has gone the way of much of Europe and North America: no smoking indoors or on restaurant patios. (Although as i write this i am on the patio of a cafe, so there is some flexibility.)

And that was day one in Lima. We did also get some tickets to a bullfight, but that deserves its own post.

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Posted on 3 November 14
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Posted inColombia South America

Colombian Fruit

I don’t think i’ve ever been anywhere with as much fruit – both in terms of availability and variety – as Colombia. Fruit is for sale everywhere: on every corner, on the beach, in supermarkets and convenience stores and markets, and on the side of the road. And the variety is staggering. All of the usual fruits are well represented: mangos, papayas, tiny bananas, oranges, grapes, watermelon, etc. But what was really incredible was the amount of fruits that i had never seen or heard of before. Here are some of the stand outs:

Cherimoya

The Cherimoya is an intimidating looking fruit, native to the Andes. Apparently outside of South America it is also known as a Custard Apple or a Sherbet Fruit. It’s large – a bit larger than a big grapefruit – and its green and dimpled, with a lizardy-texture. But slice it open and it is soft and creamy white and tastes like an mixture of pineapple and banana and mango. You can eat it with a spoon if it is properly ripe and it is delicious.

Tuna

The Tuna looked like a cactus and after returning home i realized that “tuna” is the Spanish word for cactus pear or cactus fig. It is the size of a pear and is spiny, but in the supermarkets the spines are removed. I’m not sure if the one i had was ripe enough when i had it because i understand it is supposed to be able to be spooned out, but mine was quite firm. I didn’t find it overly flavorful and it is filled with small, edible seeds that gives it a weird texture. I didn’t really care for this one, but i would definitely give it another try. (It does appear in jams however, which were delicious.)

Lulo

Lulo looks like an orange tomato in size and texture; the inside of it is green and very tart. It is a bit sweeter than a lemon and has a different taste. They are for sale everywhere and seems to be used mostly in juices and jams. The juice is sweetened a bit, but is still tart and is served with chunks of the fruit inside. The juice was quite good, but with all the fruit chunks i found it easier to eat with a spoon. Apparently it is native to the Andes and is also called “little orange”.

Granadilla

Granadillas – a member of the passion fruit family – i had eaten before; i tried my first one in Ecuador and now get them from time to time at the supermarket in Vancouver, but in Colombia they were everywhere and were extremely cheap. They are yellow, perfectly round, about the size of a small orange and have a little stem. You crack open the hard shell and inside is a grey, gelatinous sack of edible black seeds and delicious goo. It does not look appetizing, but it is delicious with a passion fruity flavor.

Tomate de Arbol

Known in English as the tamarillo, in Colombia i saw the Tomate de Arbol for sale in markets and by street vendors who served them sliced up in cups with honey drizzled on top. It is about the size of a roma tomato, but with a firmer flesh and is purple/burgundy in color. It wasn’t overly flavorful and the flesh is firm – mine was almost like a slightly under cooked potato. I’d try it again, but wasn’t taken with it the first time around.

Pitaya

Pitayas look like slightly smaller, yellow dragon fruit. And that’s basically what they are. I found it to be slightly sweeter and less watery than a usual, red dragon fruit. Very tasty. I also had some Pitaya flavored yogurt, which was very nice.

Mangosteen

I had heard of the mangosteen but had never had one. I was under the impression that they only grew in South East Asia, but i was mistaken, as they are also grown in Colombia. I had heard really good things about Mangosteens, so i was very excited to try them. I bought a small bag from a market in Bogota and ate the whole thing in a sitting. They are small, about the size of a golf ball, and have a hard, purple shell. Crack open the shell and there is a fragrant aroma and soft, white cloves inside that taste like – heaven. It’s hard to describe. It is sweet and very flavorful, with a floral, creamy, taste that is like nothing I’ve ever had before. Perfection.

Curuba

When i bought the Curuba (also spelled Ceruba), i really didn’t know what to expect. It was yellow and the size and shape of a mini cucumber, but it was soft, like an over ripe banana. When i cut it open, i was not expecting what i found. The inside is like a Granadilla – gelatinous goo with seeds – but it is yellow/pink in color. (Apparently in English it is called the banana passionfruit.) I scooped out the insides with a spoon and found that unlike the sweet Granadilla, it is tart. I found it pleasantly tart, more grapefruity than lemony. Very good.

Mango Azucar

There are so many types of mangos in Colombia and they are all fantastic, but this one stood out as being quite different. The Mango Azucar (sugar mango) is small, about the size of an apricot, and is very sweet and less fibrous than most other mangos. They still have a large pit inside, so you have to eat a lot of these tiny mangos to get your fill, but they are delicious.

Guanabana

I saw these for sale in the markets and for sale on the street. They are difficult to miss. The Guanabana is huge, about a foot tall, and is dark green and covered in spikes. It sort of looks like the offspring of a lizard and a pine cone. Cut it open though and it is white and juicy and filled with large, hard, black seeds. I bought a cup of it from a street vendor. They basically scoop out some juice and some soft flesh and serve it in cups with a spoon. You can drink some of the milky juice and slurp up the soft flesh from around the seeds. It is awesome. It tastes like a mix of strawberry and pineapple and coconut and kiwi. Sort of. It is really very good. It is native to the tropical parts of South America but is grown in tropical areas around the world and has different names everywhere. Apparently in English is is called “soursop”, which is a horrible name for something so amazing.

Read More about Colombian Fruit
Posted on 30 May 13
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Posted inColombia South America Venezuela

Wrapping things up in Colombia & Venezuela

On my final night in Cartagena I went out for dinner and then to a La Casa del Habano cigar shop/bar in Gethsemani. It was fairly quiet when I arrived but I had a decent chat with the Manager who showed me bundles of tobacco to be rolled into Colombian cigars.

The smoking situation is Cartagena has been better than in Bogota. You still can’t technically smoke inside, but with the weather being so beautifully tropical, there is no shortage of patios to smoke on; plus, you can smoke in cigar shops and there are at least three in the old city. There are lots of “Cuban” cigars being sold on the streets here and they are all fakes. There are real Cubans for sale in the shops, but they are very expensive – as much as in Canada.

Here’s a few more Cartagena pictures from my final day:

The next morning i flew back to Bogota and sent many hours walking around, doing a bit of shopping and finally killing time in doors when it got too cold and wet to be comfortable outside. That night i flew to Caracas.

I had a nine hour layover in Caracas, which would have been great had it been during the day, but we arrived at about 12:30 am. I thought initially i might stay at the airport and sleep on a row of chairs, but i realized that i probably needed some sleep if i was to be at all functional when i returned home and went right to work – plus, the airport in the middle of the night feels pretty sketchy. Not the sort of place i would feel comfortable sleeping in public. This is also what i determined reading accounts by other people who had been in the same situation. Indeed, the whole area around the neighborhood seems pretty dodgy at night.

Earlier in the day i did some hotel research and discovered that there are only two hotels near the airport and they are both very expensive. There are other hotels in downtown caracas of course, but they are quite far from the airport and transportation is expensive. Anyway, I was too tired to look for creative or alternative options so i got a room at a fancyish business hotel about 10 minutes from the airport. I took some colorful Venezuelan Bolivars out of the ATM and the next thing i knew i was in a tinted-windowed SUV being driven to the hotel. (the taxi ride: also expensive)

I checked in and had a restful, but brief sleep. The next morning i saw that the hotel was right on the Caribbean and had lovely pools and patios. So i ate a an overpriced breakfast taking in the view before taking another taxi back to the airport. From what i saw of the neighborhood on the drive back; it looked poor and unremarkable, but had lots of colorful Chavez graffiti and beautiful mountains. That was my brief foray into Venezuela.

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Posted on 29 May 13
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Posted inColombia South America

Mercado Bazurto

This morning, after breakfast i hailed a taxi to Mercado Bazurto – a large market well outside Cartagena’s centro historico where locals sell all manner of food and household items and operate shops and eateries. It is not a common tourist destination i am told and it has a reputation for being very dangerous. I don’t know how well deserved that reputation is, but to be on the safe side, i left my bag at the hotel and took just enough cash to get there and back, plus a bit extra, and my camera (and a few cigarillos).

The taxi driver dropped me off at the most chaotic, labyrinthine, dirty market i have ever been to. There were roads for vehicles, unpaved and soggy with mud and bits of rotting vegetable matter and scraps of fish and meat, all of which the birds and dogs were fighting over. Other than the main roads were dark passageways, covered mostly by tarps and lined with ramshackle wooden stalls. Everywhere people were descaling and gutting freshly caught fish, cutting up various animal carcasses, and selling all manner of fruits and vegetables. Cars and colorful buses, taxis, and donkeys pulling little carts made their way loudly through the streets with no sense of order. The shops played loud salsa music or less frequently, rap. Men walked around selling juice, cafe tinto, and lemonade, or pushed carts selling arepas, buns, and other items. The whole place smelled like garbage, wood smoke, fish, and rotting flesh and plant matter. Not surprisingly, i loved it. It was a complete sensory overload. I enjoyed wandering, though i avoided the darkest alleyways.

I attracted a lot of attention. People wanted to sell me things, but mostly they just wanted to say hello. I wanted so badly to take pictures of the market and the people and buildings which were crumbly but painted with bright colors and pictures of fruit and chickens, but i did not take a single photo. I felt very conspicuous and it seemed like it might have been rude to walk around and take photos, so i just walked, and smiled and said buenos dias. I did sit down at one stall where a woman was making cold drinks and had an orange and milk smoothie while watching people cooking up meat in a big pot over a fire next to a small shack that operated a single person hair salon.

It was a terrific place to visit; i’m so glad i went and did not allow the fear-mongers to convince me to stay away. It did not feel at all unsafe, but i certainly felt like it was best to stay to the busy areas. I walked out of the market, past lots of roadside eateries (basically, small wood stoves with a few tables and plastic chairs), and then through a fairly nice (and mercifully air conditioned) mall before catching a taxi back to the old town.

Today is my last day here as i fly back to Bogota tomorrow. I shall spend the rest of the day, walking and enjoying the beautiful weather before returning to the cold and misty Andes.

Read More about Mercado Bazurto
Posted on 25 May 13
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About Wandering North

Welcome to Wandering North, where I have been blogging about my travels since 2007.

Dale Raven North

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