After a great week in London, I was ready to get my trip back on track. Thankfully, I breezed past customs and got to the Wild Rover in La Paz at 8AM Friday morning. La Paz is the highest capital city in the world standing at about 3700 meters. The whole city is basically carved into the cliff side and it makes for an impressive drive in from the airport. The main hostels are also only 3 blocks down from the president’s palace, giving your stay a nice regal feel. My favorite thing about La Paz is that it is, unequivocally, the epicenter of the Gringo Trail. Whether you are continuing on through to Peru and further north or heading down to Patagonia and Buenos Aires, like myself, La Paz is the halfway point of most everyone’s trip. You run into people you’ve seen along the way in other countries and exchange stories and tips for wherever you may be heading.

The day before I arrived was Australia Day (their 4^th of July) and the hostel certainly had signs that the Aussies had themselves a good celebration. Lucky for me, the celebrating at the Wild Rover in La Paz seizes to stop. I had been warned by travelers along the way that the majority of people get stuck in La Paz, specifically at the ‘Rover, for much longer than they intended, and I, shockingly, was no different. I don’t regret it at all though. I had an amazing time there and made a ton of great friends at that crazy place that began to feel like home after awhile.

After getting to know the area and making some friends for a couple days, I decided to do Death Road the next Tuesday. Death Road (aka World’s Most Dangerous Road, Yungas, La Calle de Muerte) is 60km of bumpy dirt road that weaves along the mountainside through the beginning of the Bolivian rainforest with no railings and sheer drops around every turn. It is nicknamed so because more people die on that road per year than any other, so it is believed. Just a couple years ago, Bolivia finally wizened up and built an alternate road for cars and buses to take and now Death Road is primarily used for tourists to bike down. Although I would say the fear factor is a bit overplayed now, I can imagine biking down while buses and vans were driving up would be an entirely different animal and it makes sense that so many people died each year. Nevertheless, it was still awesome and a beautiful ride down. I only had one sketchy moment where I just about bailed the bike over the cliff after skidding on a big rock but I was able to save par and the rest of the way was relatively smooth sailing.

Two days later I flew to Rurrenabaque, which is the launch spot for Jungle and Pampas tours in Bolivia. I opted for the Pampas tour because you see a lot more wildlife along the river, whereas the Jungle trip is more plant based. Bolivia in its entirety is a bargain, but all of the tours you can do hold especially good value. For 3 days/2 nights in the Pampas, all meals included, it cost me 550 Bs, or about 80 US. To go whale watching at home for one afternoon it costs about $35. On the flight to Rurre, I picked up a newspaper and realized that that day was the city’s biggest festival of the year, celebrating its anniversary. Bolivians have a reputation for getting pretty intoxicated and partying in the streets for their festivals, particularly in smaller towns like this, so I was excited to see what would transpire. It did not disappoint and by the time we landed at 2PM there were already tons of people in traditional dress dancing in the street with bands behind them playing what seemed to be the same song on repeat. There were also plenty of groups stacking beeramids alongside the road and stumbling out to the middle of the street for a pee or a slumber, and in one fellow’s case, both at the same time.

Sure enough, the next morning our guide showed up obviously still drunk, laughing his head off at everything while the eight of us (kiwi couple, two south Korean guys, a Belgium couple, and a Dutch girl from the Rover and me) laughed right along with him. At the midway point of the jeep ride to the river after about two hours, we had to pull over for the guide to spew after the booze wore off and his hangover kicked in. We all were convinced he was asleep after that, but about thirty minutes later, he jumped up from his seat, “Toucan!” The old boy came through and spotted a pair of toucans that looked exactly how you would imagine. After this, we knew we were in good hands and he proved to be an excellent spotter in the ensuing days.

The whole Pampas tour was an incredible experience. You spend the days cruising down the river in a motorized canoe spotting animals with plenty of breaks for meals and cervecas along the way. We saw heaps of monkeys, one of which jumped onto our boat, tons of cool birds, turtles, caimans, (‘gators) and pink dolphins. We got to jump into the river with the dolphins, which was amazing, but seemed a bit dodgy after we had been fishing for piranhas and spotting caiman just around the bend. The guides know all sorts of tricks to get the animals to come close, and be playful which made for some awesome photos that will hopefully be up soon. Our group all got along really well and at night we’d play spoons, mafia, and some other hilarious games that the Korean dudes taught us. The trip was definitely one of the highlights of my travels thus far.

I got back to the Rover Sunday night just in time for the Super Bowl. I took a much needed shower and got a quick bite before I scanned the bar hoping to find some American brethren to watch the game with. I found the single table of Americans and settled in for the 2^nd quarter. As had sadly been the case with the majority of fellow countrymen and women thus far, I was not really digging their company. They were perpetuating every bad stereotype about loud obnoxious ignorant Americans and after one quarter I did not want to be associated with them anymore. I opted to watch the game with a German couple I’d met and tried to explain the rules to them along the way. In doing so I realized just how confusing American football is, especially when compared to soccer and rugby. Nevertheless, that was a crazy game and I’m glad I made it back in time.

After the Super Bowl, I woke up the following day with the feeling that it was time to get moving and went to the bus terminal and bought my ticket to Santa Cruz the following evening to go to Saimapata where I heard there is an animal refuge that you can play with monkeys. Anyone who knows anything about me knows that this was an obvious must-do for me. Feeling the cumulative effects of what was now 6 nights at the Rover, I went to check out a couple hostels and hotels nearby to get a single room with a TV to just chill out for a night before I took off. I was all ready to get a room across the street but the wifi was too spotty and since I had already paid for my room at the Rover I thought, alright, I’ll just hang low and get out of there the next day. Next up was Saimapata and onto Argentina, so I thought…

Written 1/27, I’m lazy and having too much fun, lo siento, *comments in bold

Well mates, I’m currently on my flight from London to Miami enjoying a Brie, tomato and rocket baguette and a canned Newcastle, watching the Office and browsing Sky Mall. Once down in Miami, I’ll be hopping on another flight to head to La Paz to spend the next few weeks in Bolivia. That is, if the assholes in customs at Miami allow me to get on my flight, which, based on my experience last week is a big if. (If they confiscate my computer and have a look through my recent documents, I reckon this post won’t be too beneficial to my cause) they didn’t

Last week, the guy in the customs line says, “So you were just traveling in Colombia? By yourself?” and hastily directed me into room #8. At first, I wasn’t quite sure if this was just standard procedure, but the fact that room #8 was behind closed doors and the other way people in front of me had gone was through clear doors, I had an inclination of how things were heading. After I entered and saw that all the officers were carrying the same expression as the other dick cops I’ve encountered in the past, I quickly realized that room #8 was not a happy room. One stern guy initiated the interrogation and began digging through all my stuff while another walked away with my passport, wearing a suspicious look of disapproval. Then guy #2 returns and asks me the same questions that guy #1 just asked. (e.g. Q: Where are you coming from? A: Colombia and Peru; Q: What were you doing there? A: Traveling; Q: Do you have friends or family there? A: No; Q: What do you do for work? A: Nothing at the moment) I suppose my answers, disheveled appearance of beard and flannel, and the fact I was by myself and mysteriously flying to London for a week before returning to Bolivia would strike anyone as a bit odd, but these people were being jackasses and weren’t very smart. Guy #1 ends up mixing up what I just told him I was doing and he and guy #2 conference and decide that I’m being shady, giving them different answers, when in actuality, they were both just wrong and unable to follow a simple chronology of events. The two of them and another woman continue to repeat their questions, thinking that I am going to change my answers and somehow talk my way into admitting I am the supposed drug runner that they must be taking me for. After I show him all of my pictures with dates on each one that verify my explanation, I figure I will be allowed to try and make my flight, but they still aren’t satisfied. So, they call both my parents, and luckily, my Mom answers even though it was about 4AM London time and they eventually let me through. I would’ve missed my flight had it not been delayed (the rest of the airport sucks as well) and I will now be forever avoiding connections in Miami whenever possible. Fingers crossed for round 2 in a few hours… all was well

Now that I got that off my chest, back to the fun stuff. I’d like to give a quick special thanks to my Dad for both spoiling my sisters and me in Peru and helping me get to London for Maria’s wedding. Both were amazing experiences in their own right.

More importantly, congratulations to Dave and Maria! It was an awesome weekend and I’m so happy I was able to share it with them both. Dave and his family could not have been a kinder group of people and I’m glad we are now all part of the same clan. It was great to have finally met them and the rest of Maria’s friends in London. It’s comforting to know that she has such wonderful and caring people surrounding her while she’s away from home. Hopefully you will all make it to California sometime in the near future!

Onto Peru…

Peru began after a lovely sixteen hours of travel on New Years day with an overnight layover in Lima where I unexpectedly and happily ran into my Dad and Alida. We attempted to sleep in some café booths for a bit and made our way to Cusco where we met Maria shortly thereafter. Cusco is the city you stay at for a few days before you begin your Machu Picchu trek to acclimate as the city lies at about 3,400 meters which is higher than the majority of the hike, itself. (the highest point in the trek, called Dead Woman’s Pass, is 4215) Cusco is the former capital of the Incan Empire during the 1400-1500’s and was since conquered by the Spanish, retaken by Latin America, and is now, by my estimation, the tourism capital of Peru. Every single person I had spoken to, spanning all ages, had loved it, so I was eager to check it out.

After just five nights there, my opinion is no different. There’s something magical about that city. You could easily spend at least a week before your trek walking around, popping into the endless textile vendors, sampling the local cuisine, and checking out the Sacred Valley nearby. For you party animals, I didn’t make it out too late at all while there, but, from the conversations I’ve had with fellow travelers, it seems that Cusco, La Paz, and Medellin may be the three biggest party destinations in the northern half of South America.

The Inca Trail trek to Machu Picchu superseded my expectations on a number of levels. First, it was much more difficult than I anticipated. I guess that since nowadays so many people of all ages do it every year I expected that it must be fairly easy, but I was wrong. Aside from Day 1, there are very few flat stretches and the downhillls quickly become just as bad as the up’s. The altitude also comes to play a role for everyone at some point and the sleeping conditions take their toll. Nevertheless, it is by no means insurmountable, just more difficult than I thought, and I reckon that everyone reading this could certainly do it. Each day presents its own challenge, and the whole experience of hiking there is truly equally as meaningful as visiting the site of Machu Picchu itself. Actually, the two go hand-in-hand because, as with most things in life, the harder you have to work to accomplish something, the end goal becomes even that much sweeter.

There are a variety of options you have to make your way to Machu Picchu: the Inca Trail, Salkantay Trail, Jungle Trail, finding your own way, bussing there, and probably several more. However, to anyone considering doing it, I’d highly recommend doing the full 4 day Inca Trail. The entire hike is seriously beautiful and much more green and jungly than I expected. In addition, it’s also a lesson in history and culture. As you pass different landscapes and ruins along the way, your guides will teach you of the surrounding mountains and vegetation, Incan history, and current Andean culture as you make your way to Machu Picchu. It’s cool how meaningful the mountains are to the Andean people, both the Incas and also the current people who live there. Many people living in the region and the majority who work as guides and porters all speak Quechua, the language of the Incas. Although it has been developed a bit more and has some Spanish intermingled, it’s still interesting to see the direct ties the current inhabitants still have with the Incas who came before them.

I won’t do a day-by-day recap of the trek, as a recount of 8-12 hour days of walking can only be so riveting if you weren’t there. I encourage anyone considering visiting Machu Picchu to do so soon. The interest in the site has grown exponentially the last few years and our guides (Percy and Juan, both legends) told us that it may not be long before the government begins to regulate the trails and ruins even more than they already do, possibly limiting visitors to just an hour on the site, decreasing the number of people who can enter each day, and tacking on additional tourism fees, which are already plentiful in Peru.

The next day after the hike, we said goodbye to Alida, who had to get back to work and real life in LA from Cusco, and Maria, my Dad and I headed to Arequipa for a few days. Arequipa is just an hour flight south of Cusco (most people take a 4-5 hour train or bus, but we wanted to save time) and is the second largest city in Peru behind Lima. The main attraction is the nearby Colca Canyon which you can hike through in a couple days and also test your luck to see some condors, Earth’s largest bird. Unfortunately, I, and later Maria, had gotten pretty sick while hiking and the days following Machu Picchu were spent in bed consuming Ritz crackers and Sprite and watching MTV and CNN, which were the only two English channels in our hotel there. Not feeling entirely keen on hiking just yet, we opted to hire a driver for the day and headed out about 3 ½ hours up and through the snow-capped mountains and volcanoes to the canyon to see if the condors felt like flying that morning. Lucky for us, they certainly did and we saw a good number of them, mainly off in the distance to start. Then, after about thirty minutes, two enormous birds ascended up to the top of the viewpoint and put on an amazing show for us, literally flying in circles just directly over our heads. It was one of the coolest wildlife experiences I’ve ever had, and definitely the best of my trip so far. (Monkeys ftw) Seeing an endangered species in its natural habitat, and the largest flying animal alive, right above my face with the canyon in the backdrop was truly spectacular and something I’ll never forget. The guides at the site said they hadn’t even seen a single bird in over a week, much less the number and proximity that we had experienced that day, so that made it even cooler.

The next day my Dad and Maria took off and I moved into a hostel down the street called the Wild Rover, where I planned to pass some time until leaving for the wedding. There are three Wild Rover’s. One in Cusco, Arequipa, and La Paz, and all are Irish owned and known for being very “social.” (La Paz is locoooo) The Arequipa one had a pool and daytime bar where they played whatever sporting events were taking place around the world, and, thus, my next four days were spent right there making friends with whoever was passing through. I hung out with a couple hilarious Irish lads from Cork, some Brazilians who were in a band and killed it for open mic night, and, finally some of the first cool Americans I have spent time with. We had a few memorable nights there at the hostel, and before I knew it, I was heading to London. I was bummed to leave the Wild Rover, but luckily I’m heading to their hostel when I land in La Paz Friday morning, where things are known to get pretty crazy. (if I only knew)

That’s all I got for now. Since the time I began writing this I’ve unenthusiastically given up my window seat for a couple who wanted to sit together; gotten switched afterward to a better seat with no one in the middle; and been given two free drinks for my original willingness to swap.

Positive energy makes the world go round…

With any luck, the next time you’ll be hearing from me will be from somewhere in Bolivia after visiting the Amazon. (was awesome)

Much love until then,

Joseph

I have 2 more days in Bolivia and will be arriving in Argentina on my birthday 2/20 if everything goes to plan. I’ll hopefully update Bolivia once I’m settled in Argentina. Hundreds of pictures from Bolivia on the way as well.

P.S. Sorry to anyone that is or has family and friends who are police officers, I just needed to vent.