Hard to believe I've been in Vietnam for a week already!
There was almost immediate culture shock going from Phnom Penh to Ho Chi Minh City...the contrasts in wealth and modernity are stark. Vietnam's southern metropolis is a vibrant, buzzing city with some sleek skypscrapers and a fashionably-dressed younger population.
The French colonial influence is easilly spotted in the city center, where the architecture is extremely European, and Chanel and Dior shops line the immaculate streets.
Scooters are the transit option of choice here in Vietnam, and at all times of day they zip along the streets, weaving wildly...they literally never have a red light. Only cars have to stop at red lights. To cross the street is to take your life in your hands.
I spent 2 nights in Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City, since I was already all city-ed out after Phnom Penh. My main stops were the War Remnants Museum and the Cu Chi Tunnels- both worthwhile! To be honest, I knew next to nothing about the Vietnam War (they call it the American War here) before I arrived, and it was quite eye-opening. I'm told the museum information is quite biased in favor of the Vietnamese, but nevertheless it was an interesting (and disturbing) visit.
After the big city, I spent 3 nights at a beautiful, relaxed hostel in Mui Ne, soaking up the surf, sand, and sun...that is, I got very sunburnt. But it was really nice.
Then I moved on to the cool mountain clime in Dalat. It was a beautiful relief to feel a brisk breeze on my skin, and to actually have the desire to put more clothes on, and curl up under a warm blanket at night!!! While in Dalat, I visited the famous Crazy House, went Canyoning (photos to come), climbed Liang Biang Mountain, and visited a Monastery. The last two events were only made possible by inviting myself to join a group that are motorbiking down Vietnam (I am actually so jealous). I absolutely love riding on the back of the bike through the small village streets- you see SO much more of the country, and you have so much more freedom. The only thing really stopping me from joining their number is the amount of backpackers I've met with motorbike "war wounds". I'll leave the driving to others...for now.
I stayed at a hostel reccommended to me by a friend from Kamloops that visited Vietnam a few years back. Its called The Dalat Family Hostel, and it was SUCH an experience! The vietnamese family that runs the hostel are absolutely nuts- "Mama" sings, claps, hugs, and kisses you when you arrive, you are fed immediately, the "brothers" and "sisters" (are they actually family? I will never know) randomly hug you and pinch your cheek, or throw their arms over your shoulders while you are sitting around...everyone eats a huge dinner around the family table at 5 every night...its the best food...the BEST. I slept in the attic, where there are all different levels, and about 15 mattersses around the floor. It looks like the ultimate slumber party of your dreams! It was so much fun, and also just ridiculous!
Anyway, today I am in transit to the small village of Tuy Hoa, and I've had a couple hours to get some internet time in. This evening I will take a train for the first time- it was an early start this morning, so I'm already tired and can't wait to just arrive and get settled in.
I will get more photos up soon, but until then...instagram. :)
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Sunday, 22 November 2015
Wednesday, 4 November 2015
Siem Reap!
Sorry for the long hiatus on blogging! Its been a busy week!
Last Friday I said goodbye to all my new friends at the Fatima Center. It was bittersweet, since I felt like I was beginning to find my place there and could have done more to contribute if I'd planned to stay longer, but I was also excited to say goodbye to Bangkok and begin my travels across the rest of SE Asia!
Satrday morning I left bright and early and boarded my bus for Siem Reap Cambodia. I was fortunate in my seating partner- a Californian girl the same age as I am, of Cambodian heritage. She has also been doing a fair bit of traveling this year, and we talked for a really long time and really connected. We were booked into different hostels, however, so we parted ways upon arrival.
Backing up a bit...despite being warned of scams at the border, a bunch of us definitely fell for the trickers that lay in wait. Our bus was no help. The driver likely has some kind of deal with the scammers, so he dropped us off at their office which is right outside passport control. We were told this is where we got our visas, so we paid the money, waited 20 minutes, and were given our visas, and then they started to fill out our entry forms for an additional 200 B. (approx $7). Once we realized what theye were doing, we told them we would fill out the forms on our own, and headed for passport control. After completeing that, we stepped out of the office and saw a very official looking sign that said "Visa On Arrival" for about $15 US less than we had paid. Oooooh well. Live and learn.
I stayed at the European Guesthouse in Siem Reap on the advice of my trusty Lonely Planet travel guide. While it doesn't win any awards for cleanliness, it has a nice small pool, a decent bar/restaurant, and it comes at the low, low price of $5 US/night. Having lived in treeplanting camps probably helps me get over a bit of bathroom grime!
My first morning I met (read: nosily wormed my way into a conversation and introduced myself) a Colombian girl who was also traveling by herself. We hit it off, and decided to take a Khmer cooking class and wander around the city together, and then rent bikes to ride to Angkor Wat the next morning. I am so glad I met her, as we had a great time hanging out over the next few days, and sharing my Siem Reap experience with someone made it so enjoyable!
We got up at 4am on Monday and cycled to the temple, joined by throngs of tourists in tuk-tuks and taxis. I was a bit dismayed by the crowds of selfie-sticks, but we moved to a less-popular and populaced location to watch the sun rise and snap a few photos. It was really beautiful, though I remain a bit jealous of those who had the opportunity to see the magical area before it became such a tourist hotspot.
The rest of the day was spent wandering through the main temples, riding our bikes in the hot sun, and snacking on dried mango and salted cashews we had bought cheaply at the market the day before.
On the way home, we missed a turn and ended up way off track, out towards the airport! It made for a VERY interesting ride back to the hostel as we were obliged to cycle along one of the busiest main roads in the city! It was quite an experience, and I have to say, I'm pretty proud of myself for how calm I remained, especially as I have never been much of a bike-riding expert, and helmets literally do not exist here. Traffic patterns in Cambodia are different from anything I have seen before- they seem even more chaotic than what I saw in Cusco, Peru! So there we were, pedalling hard on a mix of pot-holed dirt roads and random brick sidewalks, while cars, motorbikes, and tuk tuks are zooming by, occasioinally honking at us to get our of their way (which I would have gladly done, had there been anywhere to go!), and then out of nowhere some random will cut directly across traffic, or just go right against the flow. Literally everyone is just going everywhere and hoping they dont get hit. I just kept my eyes wide open, and kept on pedaling!!! It was actually kind of hilarious. My friend and I were just like...what is even happening right now....
Needless to say, we survived, and it is something I will never forget!
Yesterday we took it easy, swam in the pool, did some skyping and facebooking, went to the market, ate some spicy frog stirfy and then delicious ginger and black sesame ice cream, stuck our feet in a tank of fish that ate our feet, and visited the night market with some new aquaintances! It was a fun, relaxing day, and a nice finale to my Siem Reap visit.
This morning I hopped on another bus for my next destination, but that's another story for another day!
Last Friday I said goodbye to all my new friends at the Fatima Center. It was bittersweet, since I felt like I was beginning to find my place there and could have done more to contribute if I'd planned to stay longer, but I was also excited to say goodbye to Bangkok and begin my travels across the rest of SE Asia!
 |
| Angkor Wat at Sunrise |
Satrday morning I left bright and early and boarded my bus for Siem Reap Cambodia. I was fortunate in my seating partner- a Californian girl the same age as I am, of Cambodian heritage. She has also been doing a fair bit of traveling this year, and we talked for a really long time and really connected. We were booked into different hostels, however, so we parted ways upon arrival.
Backing up a bit...despite being warned of scams at the border, a bunch of us definitely fell for the trickers that lay in wait. Our bus was no help. The driver likely has some kind of deal with the scammers, so he dropped us off at their office which is right outside passport control. We were told this is where we got our visas, so we paid the money, waited 20 minutes, and were given our visas, and then they started to fill out our entry forms for an additional 200 B. (approx $7). Once we realized what theye were doing, we told them we would fill out the forms on our own, and headed for passport control. After completeing that, we stepped out of the office and saw a very official looking sign that said "Visa On Arrival" for about $15 US less than we had paid. Oooooh well. Live and learn.
I stayed at the European Guesthouse in Siem Reap on the advice of my trusty Lonely Planet travel guide. While it doesn't win any awards for cleanliness, it has a nice small pool, a decent bar/restaurant, and it comes at the low, low price of $5 US/night. Having lived in treeplanting camps probably helps me get over a bit of bathroom grime!
My first morning I met (read: nosily wormed my way into a conversation and introduced myself) a Colombian girl who was also traveling by herself. We hit it off, and decided to take a Khmer cooking class and wander around the city together, and then rent bikes to ride to Angkor Wat the next morning. I am so glad I met her, as we had a great time hanging out over the next few days, and sharing my Siem Reap experience with someone made it so enjoyable!
We got up at 4am on Monday and cycled to the temple, joined by throngs of tourists in tuk-tuks and taxis. I was a bit dismayed by the crowds of selfie-sticks, but we moved to a less-popular and populaced location to watch the sun rise and snap a few photos. It was really beautiful, though I remain a bit jealous of those who had the opportunity to see the magical area before it became such a tourist hotspot.
The rest of the day was spent wandering through the main temples, riding our bikes in the hot sun, and snacking on dried mango and salted cashews we had bought cheaply at the market the day before.
On the way home, we missed a turn and ended up way off track, out towards the airport! It made for a VERY interesting ride back to the hostel as we were obliged to cycle along one of the busiest main roads in the city! It was quite an experience, and I have to say, I'm pretty proud of myself for how calm I remained, especially as I have never been much of a bike-riding expert, and helmets literally do not exist here. Traffic patterns in Cambodia are different from anything I have seen before- they seem even more chaotic than what I saw in Cusco, Peru! So there we were, pedalling hard on a mix of pot-holed dirt roads and random brick sidewalks, while cars, motorbikes, and tuk tuks are zooming by, occasioinally honking at us to get our of their way (which I would have gladly done, had there been anywhere to go!), and then out of nowhere some random will cut directly across traffic, or just go right against the flow. Literally everyone is just going everywhere and hoping they dont get hit. I just kept my eyes wide open, and kept on pedaling!!! It was actually kind of hilarious. My friend and I were just like...what is even happening right now....
Needless to say, we survived, and it is something I will never forget!
Yesterday we took it easy, swam in the pool, did some skyping and facebooking, went to the market, ate some spicy frog stirfy and then delicious ginger and black sesame ice cream, stuck our feet in a tank of fish that ate our feet, and visited the night market with some new aquaintances! It was a fun, relaxing day, and a nice finale to my Siem Reap visit.
 |
| Evidently my feet have more to offer.... |
Sunday, 18 October 2015
Thailand Sightseeing Weekend #2: Temples and Tuk Tuks
I had big plans to get up early to see Wat Arun, the "Temple of the Dawn" while the sun was rising...but when the alarm went off at 5:45am, I decided that it just wasn't going to happen today, and rolled over for another hour of rest.
I did eventually drag myself out of bed and caught a taxi to Koa San Road while there was still no traffic. Because it was still early, the infamous street was still slumbering off the hangover from the night before, which doubtless had only come to an end around the time my alarm woke me up. Sometimes I really feel like an oddity among the usual Thailand tourist crowd!
I wanted to get in as much temple sightseeing as possible, including Wat Phrakaew & the Grand Palace, Wat Pho, Wat Arun, and a few other places further down the river if I had time and energy.
Though the day started off looking like it might rain, it soon turned to the typical sweltering heat I am still trying to adapt to. It is difficult for this Canadian to accept that 25 degrees celcius is a cool night time temperature.
Strolling down a main road, I stopped to read a corner street sign to figure out where I needed to make a turn, and was quickly approached by a well-dressed, friendly Thai man, whose English was much better than most. He greeted me, and asked where I was going, and did I need help? I said I was looking for the Grand Palace, and he pointed me in the right direction, and asked if I had a map so he could show me. At this point I was foolishly still thinking that he was just being helpful, and that quickly switched to a realization that he was a typical scam artist that my Lonely Planet guide book had warned me of, when he told me the temple wouldnt open until 1pm, but he could reccommend a few other places where I could spend my time until then! This is a trick where they whisk you away to various overpriced places where they pressure you to buy a lot of things and basically hold you hostage for a couple hours.
He whipped out a pen and started marking down attractions on the other side of town that were "only free today", and "just free for students," and wasn't I lucky because right now there was a once-a-year festival, "but only today"! I thanked him and said that sounded nice but it was very far away. He quickly stepped in to say that I could take a tuk tuk, one of the colorful go-cart lke mobiles that have infested the city, charging horrendous prices to ignorant tourists. The 'Nice Man' said I should only take a government taxi because it was cheaper, "only 20 Baht for 3 hours! It will take you to all these places!". I may be cheap, but even I know when something is TOO cheap. 20 B. for 3 hours is absolutely ridiculous, and I had spent enough time with this fellow so I began to extricate myself from the situation. His friendly smile soured when I deffered on the waiting tuk tuk, and said I wanted to look around first. "But why dont you want to go now? You hear about that bomb that exploded in Bangkok? Killed many tourists! There is a political demonstration today, very dangerous for walking!" (absolute rubbish). He was quite angry when I insisted on leaving...I walked to the end of the street, crossed to the other side, and then continued on my way to the Grand Palace!
I did eventually find my way there, and surprise surprise...it was open! In fact, it was packed with tourists, mainly big chartered busloads of Chinese tourists, who are undoubtedly the most annoying kind I have ever encountered. I will try not to focus too much on just how much I disliked the swarms of self-stick toting, personal-space invading, culturally-insensitive, and obnoxious tourists, but suffice it to say that I spent a shorter time there than I would have otherwise, and left with a headache that was almost certainly crowd-induced.
However, the temple was absolutely stunning, and I tried to get some photos that captured some of its magnificence. I tried to imagine how wonderful it must have been when it was a calm, peaceful place for meditation and reflection.
After reviving myself with some coconut ice cream, I walked down the road to Wat Pho, which was a visit I preferred quite a lot more. While stll touristy, it was not super busy, so it was not difficult to wander and snap photos without waiting for someone to take yet another selfie. I spent quite a lot of time there, enjoying the peace, admiring the huge reclining Buddha, and trying to entice a small orange cat to pay attention to me (I am going through Lokers deprivation).
After this, I walked a tourist gauntlet of small vendors, tuk tuk drivers, and beggars, to reach the canal of the river, upon which Wat Arun, my original choice of temple, is set opposite. I was dissapointed to find that the beautiful temple is currently under restoration, and almost entirely obscured by scaffolding!
Disheartened by scams, tourist hordes, and the unrelenting heat, I tried to find a taxi that would bring me home. I was completely unsuccessful, as every single one I approached refused to use the meter, instead asking for 200-300 Baht for the trip, that was probably worth half that. I compromised with myself by instead catching a taxi to the nearest BTS Skytrain station, and then riding that to the stop nearest the guesthouse, and walking the rest. Sometimes I wonder if I am too cheap, but then I remind myself I have more time than money, so if it comes down to one or the other, I should keep the money!
So that was my day! I got home exhausted, took a cold shower, and had a nap! Looking through my photos, I remind myself that even though there were annoying aspects about today, everythiing was very beautiful, and I knew Bangkok/Thailand would be like this. That is why I have planned to move on after this month :)
 |
| I allowed myself one selfie. |
I am excited to go to Cambodia, but my tourist time in Thailand is not done yet! Next weekend I am hoping to head out of the city with the new volunteers to explore a Unesco World Heritage Site, and visit a floating market! I'll keep you updated!
Sunday, 20 September 2015
"You're Traveling ALONE?!"
The NUMBER ONE question I am asked when someone discovers that I am going traveling is...
"Are you going with someone, or are you traveling alone?!".
The general population worries that I will be robbed/murdered/raped/trafficked Taken-style when I leave home. Especially as my destinations include developing countries.
It is also a common assumption that solo travelers are friendless wanderers who spend their time in silent contemplation, wishing they had brought a companion to speak with.
This is in fact, not the case. Generally speaking.
I am a woman. I am single. I am an introvert.
I travel solo...and I like it!
I am not superwoman. I am not especially streetwise. I am not particularly out-going.
And I am not going to let fear hold me back!
When I was 19, I packed up and moved to a different country where I knew no one, and I lived there for nearly a year. This came out of the blue in some respects. I was considered "quiet" and some might consider me shy. I had never lived on my own before. I was a homebody. I was not the girl to do the unexpected thing.
But I was driven by a long-standing and passionate desire to see Ireland. An opportunity came up, and I seized it!
I don't remember exactly what I was thinking at that point. The decision surprised even me! I was nervous, but I was excited for the adventure.
By the end of that year I had seen a lot of the area surrounding my home base, and I loved it. The people, the natural beauty, the SHEEP! It was amazing. It was a great exercise in independence, but the fact is that I was probably too immature at that point to undertake such an extreme transplanting and thrive. In some ways my confidence in myself was rattled.
Luckily one of my good friends flew in and we traveled around Ireland together for a month...I'm not sure I would have pushed myself to do that trip if I had been on my own.
To further instill a dread of solo traveling, I did a 10-day guided tour of Scotland, at which I was the only person that came without a friend (or two)! I was also the youngest by a number of years, and I felt a little lost and intimidated.
After that, I told myself that I "couldn't" travel on my own. It wasn't for me.
I wasn't brave enough. I wasn't smart enough.
It was too dangerous. It was too hard. It was too lonely.
For years I wanted to travel SO badly...but I didn't, because I had no one to travel with. My friends were in university, getting married, or in jobs where they couldn't get the time off. I sat around waiting...and waiting...
It took a long time for me to decide to take the plunge and go to South America alone last year, The soundtrack of fears and doubts played in my head over and over. I hated it. And eventually I became driven to prove it wrong. There was no one to go with me? Screw that! I was going alone!
I began reading up on women traveling alone through South America. As it turns out, there are a lot of women traveling alone all over the world! And they are safe! And they love it!
And after nearly 4 months of solo travel through South America, I can now say I have officially joined their number!
So, let's address these doubts, shall we?
The first one...is self-defined. You are as brave as you decide to be. Its up to you whether to let your fears hold you back or not.
The second...well, all I can say, is that if I can make it to South America and back in one piece without meeting a sticky end, pretty much anyone can. That is all. No, but actually, if you are capable of reading a travel guide, then yes, you are smart enough, and smarter than a lot of the other travelers you will meet.
On to other 3 points!
Is it too dangerous?
No! It certainly can be dangerous, but it doesn't have to be dangerous. I learned self-sufficiency, and I learned to be careful, and how to take precautions. But I also learned a lot about the kindness of strangers. There are many, many good people out there. I made mistakes, and time after time there would be wonderful, friendly local people there to help me out. As a woman you may be more vulnerable in some ways, but this also means that others are watching your back for you too.
I was taking the city bus once in a small town in Colombia, looking for a grocery store. I eavesdropped on a local couple with a little girl sitting behind me, and once I was reasonably sure they were nice, normal people, I turned around an asked them if they could recommend a stop for me to get off at that had a grocery store. They promptly took me under their wing, got off with me, showed me where to go, which bus to take to get back to my hostel, and where to catch it.
This was not the only time I was blown away by the simple kindness of strangers. Remember that the average person is not out to get you. Be safe, but don't close yourself off from the world.
Is it too hard?
No! There are many different ways to travel solo, depending on how much time and money you have, as well how much flexibility and independence you want.
I personally have enjoyed volunteering for a while in different countries. This gives me a home base where I can acclimatize to a new culture, learn a little bit about the way people live, meet new friends, give back to a community, and ask people to refer me on what to see and where to go afterwards. Then I can make a plan, set my own pace, and figure it out as I go! The buses, hostels, and tours can be booked along the way.
Others enjoy guided tours with a set itinerary and someone else to worry about the logistics! You just have to show up and meet your fellow adventurers! There are a lot of companies that provide this kind of service, and its a great way to get your feet wet in solo travel. You have a support system to help you with any problems that arise, and you won't have to worry about where to sleep/eat/meet people.
Is it too lonely?
No! If anything, I meet more people when I'm traveling alone! As a decided introvert, sometimes it does take a little extra effort to strike up conversations or tag along on a group activity, such as a hostel pub crawl. However, when you travel alone, you also get to make your own rules about how social you want to be! If you don't want to go out every night, you don't have to! You will not have to figure this out with a travel buddy, and you won't be letting anyone down when you do things your way! On the flip side, if you want to go out with total strangers to swap travel tips and stories, join up with others to go on a daytrip on a whim, or buddy up for a few weeks- you totally can! You are free to meet, talk, hangout, drink, dance, travel, eat, etc. with whomever floats you boat! And you can leave whenever you want, or not! Its totally up to you (and the other person/people you meet...haha).
There are never any shortage of other travelers to be found at hostels, or on tours, or sightseeing. And guess what- many of them are other women traveling alone!
I made some great friends by simply putting myself out there, saying hello, asking where someone is from or where they're going, and just hanging out together.
I made a friend with a girl stuck in front of me in a long line at the airport. I made a friend sitting next to me on the plane. I made a friend swinging in a neighboring hammock. I made a friend when I heard a girl mention she wanted to go to a local market, and I offered to show her the way. I made a friend commenting on their accent (strange but true). I made a friend couchsurfing.
You get my point-- you have literally endless possibilities to make friends when you travel!
Don't get me wrong. Traveling with friends and family is SO much fun, and it is wonderful to be able to share those experiences and memories with someone close to you. But if you, like my past self, put off traveling because you don't have a friend to go with you, I think you might be making a big mistake. Don't wait for an opportunity that is dependent on someone who may or may not appear. Just do it!
Traveling solo can be scary, especially the first time. Its natural to be scared of the unknown. But I think that if you go for it, you will surprise yourself with just how much you enjoy it! It can definitely be safe, simple, and social!
Here's a handy-dandy link to some quick tips for solo female travelers- good to keep in mind!
Edit: And another link that will shoot down any other excuses :-P
"Are you going with someone, or are you traveling alone?!".
The general population worries that I will be robbed/murdered/raped/trafficked Taken-style when I leave home. Especially as my destinations include developing countries.
It is also a common assumption that solo travelers are friendless wanderers who spend their time in silent contemplation, wishing they had brought a companion to speak with.
This is in fact, not the case. Generally speaking.
I am a woman. I am single. I am an introvert.
I travel solo...and I like it!
I am not superwoman. I am not especially streetwise. I am not particularly out-going.
And I am not going to let fear hold me back!
When I was 19, I packed up and moved to a different country where I knew no one, and I lived there for nearly a year. This came out of the blue in some respects. I was considered "quiet" and some might consider me shy. I had never lived on my own before. I was a homebody. I was not the girl to do the unexpected thing.
But I was driven by a long-standing and passionate desire to see Ireland. An opportunity came up, and I seized it!
I don't remember exactly what I was thinking at that point. The decision surprised even me! I was nervous, but I was excited for the adventure.
By the end of that year I had seen a lot of the area surrounding my home base, and I loved it. The people, the natural beauty, the SHEEP! It was amazing. It was a great exercise in independence, but the fact is that I was probably too immature at that point to undertake such an extreme transplanting and thrive. In some ways my confidence in myself was rattled.
Luckily one of my good friends flew in and we traveled around Ireland together for a month...I'm not sure I would have pushed myself to do that trip if I had been on my own.
To further instill a dread of solo traveling, I did a 10-day guided tour of Scotland, at which I was the only person that came without a friend (or two)! I was also the youngest by a number of years, and I felt a little lost and intimidated.
After that, I told myself that I "couldn't" travel on my own. It wasn't for me.
I wasn't brave enough. I wasn't smart enough.
It was too dangerous. It was too hard. It was too lonely.
For years I wanted to travel SO badly...but I didn't, because I had no one to travel with. My friends were in university, getting married, or in jobs where they couldn't get the time off. I sat around waiting...and waiting...
It took a long time for me to decide to take the plunge and go to South America alone last year, The soundtrack of fears and doubts played in my head over and over. I hated it. And eventually I became driven to prove it wrong. There was no one to go with me? Screw that! I was going alone!
I began reading up on women traveling alone through South America. As it turns out, there are a lot of women traveling alone all over the world! And they are safe! And they love it!
And after nearly 4 months of solo travel through South America, I can now say I have officially joined their number!
So, let's address these doubts, shall we?
The first one...is self-defined. You are as brave as you decide to be. Its up to you whether to let your fears hold you back or not.
The second...well, all I can say, is that if I can make it to South America and back in one piece without meeting a sticky end, pretty much anyone can. That is all. No, but actually, if you are capable of reading a travel guide, then yes, you are smart enough, and smarter than a lot of the other travelers you will meet.
On to other 3 points!
Is it too dangerous?
No! It certainly can be dangerous, but it doesn't have to be dangerous. I learned self-sufficiency, and I learned to be careful, and how to take precautions. But I also learned a lot about the kindness of strangers. There are many, many good people out there. I made mistakes, and time after time there would be wonderful, friendly local people there to help me out. As a woman you may be more vulnerable in some ways, but this also means that others are watching your back for you too.
I was taking the city bus once in a small town in Colombia, looking for a grocery store. I eavesdropped on a local couple with a little girl sitting behind me, and once I was reasonably sure they were nice, normal people, I turned around an asked them if they could recommend a stop for me to get off at that had a grocery store. They promptly took me under their wing, got off with me, showed me where to go, which bus to take to get back to my hostel, and where to catch it.
This was not the only time I was blown away by the simple kindness of strangers. Remember that the average person is not out to get you. Be safe, but don't close yourself off from the world.
Is it too hard?
No! There are many different ways to travel solo, depending on how much time and money you have, as well how much flexibility and independence you want.
I personally have enjoyed volunteering for a while in different countries. This gives me a home base where I can acclimatize to a new culture, learn a little bit about the way people live, meet new friends, give back to a community, and ask people to refer me on what to see and where to go afterwards. Then I can make a plan, set my own pace, and figure it out as I go! The buses, hostels, and tours can be booked along the way.
Others enjoy guided tours with a set itinerary and someone else to worry about the logistics! You just have to show up and meet your fellow adventurers! There are a lot of companies that provide this kind of service, and its a great way to get your feet wet in solo travel. You have a support system to help you with any problems that arise, and you won't have to worry about where to sleep/eat/meet people.
Is it too lonely?
No! If anything, I meet more people when I'm traveling alone! As a decided introvert, sometimes it does take a little extra effort to strike up conversations or tag along on a group activity, such as a hostel pub crawl. However, when you travel alone, you also get to make your own rules about how social you want to be! If you don't want to go out every night, you don't have to! You will not have to figure this out with a travel buddy, and you won't be letting anyone down when you do things your way! On the flip side, if you want to go out with total strangers to swap travel tips and stories, join up with others to go on a daytrip on a whim, or buddy up for a few weeks- you totally can! You are free to meet, talk, hangout, drink, dance, travel, eat, etc. with whomever floats you boat! And you can leave whenever you want, or not! Its totally up to you (and the other person/people you meet...haha).
There are never any shortage of other travelers to be found at hostels, or on tours, or sightseeing. And guess what- many of them are other women traveling alone!
I made some great friends by simply putting myself out there, saying hello, asking where someone is from or where they're going, and just hanging out together.
I made a friend with a girl stuck in front of me in a long line at the airport. I made a friend sitting next to me on the plane. I made a friend swinging in a neighboring hammock. I made a friend when I heard a girl mention she wanted to go to a local market, and I offered to show her the way. I made a friend commenting on their accent (strange but true). I made a friend couchsurfing.
You get my point-- you have literally endless possibilities to make friends when you travel!
Don't get me wrong. Traveling with friends and family is SO much fun, and it is wonderful to be able to share those experiences and memories with someone close to you. But if you, like my past self, put off traveling because you don't have a friend to go with you, I think you might be making a big mistake. Don't wait for an opportunity that is dependent on someone who may or may not appear. Just do it!
Traveling solo can be scary, especially the first time. Its natural to be scared of the unknown. But I think that if you go for it, you will surprise yourself with just how much you enjoy it! It can definitely be safe, simple, and social!
Here's a handy-dandy link to some quick tips for solo female travelers- good to keep in mind!
Edit: And another link that will shoot down any other excuses :-P
Wednesday, 16 September 2015
A Last Ditch Attempt to Get the Travel Bug Out of My System
When I planned my South America trip last year, I intended for it to be a productive hiatus from studying, which would also scratch the travel itch that had been worsening. I was supposed to hit the books again come September.
But...you know how it is. When you scratch it, the itch gets worse! By the time I fly back into Canada in April, I was pretty sure my semester-long break was going to be extended.
While I'm not making any promises, I am hoping that I will maintain the blog a little better than last time seeing as I've purchased a new Samsung tablet which, unlike the last device, is compatible with Blogger (and Skype!!!). I have also ordered a keyboard for it, which will make typing up a blog post much faster and less of a nuisance than tapping away on a touchscreen. I should also be able to upload photos to it, so it will be awesome to share some visual updates on the road!
Now to figure out which vaccinations to get, how to vote when I'm away, purchase travel equipment without blowing the budget, and all that fun stuff... :)
But...you know how it is. When you scratch it, the itch gets worse! By the time I fly back into Canada in April, I was pretty sure my semester-long break was going to be extended.
I worked my usual cooking gig in the treeplanting camp for the spring and summer, visited lots of relatives and roadtripped down to the Oregon Coast in August, and now its September!
What have I been doing? Researching, planning, making lists, and shopping for new gear. What for? Well...
As of today, its official- in just over 2 weeks I'm heading out on another backpacking adventure!
I will fly into Bangkok, the capital of Thailand on October 2, and begin my travels through Southeast Asia that may last as long as 6 months!
Like my trip to South America, I am traveling solo and hoping to do some volunteering, treks, and tasting of the delicious local dishes!
What have I been doing? Researching, planning, making lists, and shopping for new gear. What for? Well...
As of today, its official- in just over 2 weeks I'm heading out on another backpacking adventure!
I will fly into Bangkok, the capital of Thailand on October 2, and begin my travels through Southeast Asia that may last as long as 6 months!
Like my trip to South America, I am traveling solo and hoping to do some volunteering, treks, and tasting of the delicious local dishes!
So far my intinerary includes a month of volunteering in Bangkok, hopefully meeting up with some contacts for a local's-eye look at Vietnam, chilling out in Laos, popping over to Myanmar/Burma for a glimpse of the country that has only relatively recently become tourist-friendly, another couple weeks exploring the rest of Thailand, visiting Angkor Watt in Cambodia, tasting the wild variety of street food and outdoor adventures in Malaysia, and flying to the Phillipines for some sweet, sweet beach time! I don't know all the details yet, but I am pretty excited about everything, and I know it will be a crazy and awesome adventure!
While I'm not making any promises, I am hoping that I will maintain the blog a little better than last time seeing as I've purchased a new Samsung tablet which, unlike the last device, is compatible with Blogger (and Skype!!!). I have also ordered a keyboard for it, which will make typing up a blog post much faster and less of a nuisance than tapping away on a touchscreen. I should also be able to upload photos to it, so it will be awesome to share some visual updates on the road!
Now to figure out which vaccinations to get, how to vote when I'm away, purchase travel equipment without blowing the budget, and all that fun stuff... :)
Thursday, 12 February 2015
The Long Road to Venezuela
I shouldn't be tired after 4 days of doing practically nothing but sitting on my tush looking out a windows, but As it turns out travel can be kind of exhausting.
I got up at about 5am on Monday to catch a flight from Cusco to Lima at 7:45am. Unfortunately that flight was delayed, meaning when I arrived in Lima I was basically already late for my connecting flight to Caracas, Venezuela.
Airports have always been an uncomfortable place for me. They bring out irrational fears, and I have long held a deep-seated phobia of missing a flight. As I stood stranded in a long, twisted queue waiting to go through security and realized I was supposed to be at my boarding gate 15 minutes ago, I got that sinking feeling...the knowledge that I was going to have to face this fear.
After what felt like hours of waiting in lines, I burst through the last checkpoint. And scanned the departures board. My flight read "last call". I sprinted across the airport to the very farthest gate possible...which was completely deserted. Still hoping against all odds that I might be spared this tragedy, I gasped to the uniformed employee, "Am I too late?"
With a wry smile, he nodded, and my poor little heart stopped. I dropped all my bags and clutched the edge of the desk, probably looking more than a little bit insane. "What do I do now?!"
Long story short, I was booked for a flight to Bogota, Colombia, for that evening. I spent the night curled up on some chairs beside Dunkin Donuts in the Bogota airport, wrapped in my new alpaca blanket, paranoid about somehow sleeping through the departure announcement.
That didn't happen, and I departed Colombia in the morning (I'll be back someday for a proper visit!), and arrived in Caracas before noon, where the airport was practically empty and security and immigration was surprisingly quick and relaxed.
I had arranged to be picked up at the airport through a service recommended by the foundation I am staying with. "Peter", a friendly Swiss expat, happily answered all my questions, got me settled at a cute little oceanside hotel outside Caracas (much safer), changed money for me, and told me where I could get some food. The next day, he arranged for me to be picked up by an adorable little Venezuelan man named Luis, who bought my bus ticket and dropped me off at the station. He even bought me my first "arepa", a hot cornbread sandwich that is quite delicious!
The bus was meant to depart at 3:45pm and run for 22 hours to Santa Elena. At this point, my expectations for timing are no longer to punctual North American standards, so I wasn't completely shocked when we finally rolled out at quarter after 6.
I was also able to observe with mild amusement a very loud and dramatic argument between a man and woman about who had the Window seat. The woman vehemently insisted it was hers, but later on was kicked out by another man claiming it was rightfully his. Turned out the woman was on the wrong bus.
I was lucky enough to land a seat beside a German woman who has lived in Santa Elena for 30 years...she was the only other person on the bus who spoke English, which was very helpful!
The big festival of Carneval is coming up this weekend, so a lot of people were taking huge boxes and bags of goods from Caracas to sell in the smaller towns. This meant there were some security checks along the way. At one point the driver came into the cabin and told everyone who had extra goods that they needed to pay off the national guard if they didn't want them to go through all the stuff. Bribery is just normal here!
At another point we were all made to get off the bus, grab our bags, line up, and wait for the guards to go through all our stuff. They literally shook out every last sock and panty, but when they got to my German "mother" (as we began to joke, because everyone assumed that was the case), they just waved us away. It's the big innocent blue eyes.
At one of the last stops a guard with a huge gun burst onto the bus and demanded our IDs. I think I'm becoming desensitized, because this didn't phase me one bit when a month ago I would have been terrified.
Honestly, I've been seeing some pretty bizarre stuff here, and hearing some crazy stories, but I haven't felt personally unsafe.
I finally arrived in Santa Elena in the early evening, approx. 24 hours after departing Caracas. What a trip!
Now I am happily tucked away at Foundation Aldeas de Paz, enjoying the delightful heat, mouthwatering mangos that drop from the mango tree beside the office, and my adorable little cabana (complete with reptilian roommate).
I have so much to say, and not quite enough computer access to get it all down fast enough, so until next time...I´ll be swinging in my hammock...I mean, working...
I got up at about 5am on Monday to catch a flight from Cusco to Lima at 7:45am. Unfortunately that flight was delayed, meaning when I arrived in Lima I was basically already late for my connecting flight to Caracas, Venezuela.
Airports have always been an uncomfortable place for me. They bring out irrational fears, and I have long held a deep-seated phobia of missing a flight. As I stood stranded in a long, twisted queue waiting to go through security and realized I was supposed to be at my boarding gate 15 minutes ago, I got that sinking feeling...the knowledge that I was going to have to face this fear.
After what felt like hours of waiting in lines, I burst through the last checkpoint. And scanned the departures board. My flight read "last call". I sprinted across the airport to the very farthest gate possible...which was completely deserted. Still hoping against all odds that I might be spared this tragedy, I gasped to the uniformed employee, "Am I too late?"
With a wry smile, he nodded, and my poor little heart stopped. I dropped all my bags and clutched the edge of the desk, probably looking more than a little bit insane. "What do I do now?!"
Long story short, I was booked for a flight to Bogota, Colombia, for that evening. I spent the night curled up on some chairs beside Dunkin Donuts in the Bogota airport, wrapped in my new alpaca blanket, paranoid about somehow sleeping through the departure announcement.
That didn't happen, and I departed Colombia in the morning (I'll be back someday for a proper visit!), and arrived in Caracas before noon, where the airport was practically empty and security and immigration was surprisingly quick and relaxed.
I had arranged to be picked up at the airport through a service recommended by the foundation I am staying with. "Peter", a friendly Swiss expat, happily answered all my questions, got me settled at a cute little oceanside hotel outside Caracas (much safer), changed money for me, and told me where I could get some food. The next day, he arranged for me to be picked up by an adorable little Venezuelan man named Luis, who bought my bus ticket and dropped me off at the station. He even bought me my first "arepa", a hot cornbread sandwich that is quite delicious!
The bus was meant to depart at 3:45pm and run for 22 hours to Santa Elena. At this point, my expectations for timing are no longer to punctual North American standards, so I wasn't completely shocked when we finally rolled out at quarter after 6.
I was also able to observe with mild amusement a very loud and dramatic argument between a man and woman about who had the Window seat. The woman vehemently insisted it was hers, but later on was kicked out by another man claiming it was rightfully his. Turned out the woman was on the wrong bus.
I was lucky enough to land a seat beside a German woman who has lived in Santa Elena for 30 years...she was the only other person on the bus who spoke English, which was very helpful!
The big festival of Carneval is coming up this weekend, so a lot of people were taking huge boxes and bags of goods from Caracas to sell in the smaller towns. This meant there were some security checks along the way. At one point the driver came into the cabin and told everyone who had extra goods that they needed to pay off the national guard if they didn't want them to go through all the stuff. Bribery is just normal here!
At another point we were all made to get off the bus, grab our bags, line up, and wait for the guards to go through all our stuff. They literally shook out every last sock and panty, but when they got to my German "mother" (as we began to joke, because everyone assumed that was the case), they just waved us away. It's the big innocent blue eyes.
At one of the last stops a guard with a huge gun burst onto the bus and demanded our IDs. I think I'm becoming desensitized, because this didn't phase me one bit when a month ago I would have been terrified.
Honestly, I've been seeing some pretty bizarre stuff here, and hearing some crazy stories, but I haven't felt personally unsafe.
I finally arrived in Santa Elena in the early evening, approx. 24 hours after departing Caracas. What a trip!
Now I am happily tucked away at Foundation Aldeas de Paz, enjoying the delightful heat, mouthwatering mangos that drop from the mango tree beside the office, and my adorable little cabana (complete with reptilian roommate).
I have so much to say, and not quite enough computer access to get it all down fast enough, so until next time...I´ll be swinging in my hammock...I mean, working...
Sunday, 8 February 2015
Insomnia Strikes Again
In general I have been sleeping pretty well in Peru, apart from the first week of adjusting to the altitude and a few nights during my Inka Trail Trek. I never sleep past 6am, but I don't usually have trouble falling or staying asleep...until just now! I went to bed around 10pm and now it is just after 2am, and I've been laying wide awake for at least an hour. This makes no sense, because
1. I haven't had more than 4-5 hours sleep the last two nights due to late nights and early mornings
2. I just expended more energy yesterday than I have since the Inka Trail.
Since I'm awake anyway I'll tell you about that great adventure!
There are some pretty nifty Inka ruins and salt mines around Chinchero, a bit of a drive outside Cusco. I have really wanted to see them since I first arrived, but I was really turned off bus tours after my super-touristy/boring city tour bus experience in January. Enter Peru Path, the non-profit tour company that I used for my Inka Trail Trek. These guys are so great at what they do; super knowledgeable about the Inkan history, fun, laid-back, helpful...AND the company supports education in needy local communities! What's not to love?
I shot off an email to my Inka Trail guide to inquire about whether they had tours to the Moras Moray sites, and received a quick affirmative. Before I knew it, I was getting together a group of students from my Spanish school for an all-day mountain bike tour!
This is especially funny to those that know that I haven't been on a bike in years, and I'm pretty sure I've never been mountain biking in my life.
However, I was determined that this was the best way to go because you really get to experience the countryside and it would be a personal challenge.
I was warned by one of the school staff that it was "difficult", but in my ignorance I thought, "how hard can it really be?".
Well, for one thing the seat was very hard, as my poor bruised bottom is now telling me!
And yes, it was really, really challenging, and I walked my bike up most of the hills...but at 3,500 meters above sea level, I'm going to blame at least a little bit of the rapid heartbeat and lung combustion on the altitude ;)
The good news is that I really loved the experience, and was inspired to give mountain biking a try back at home. Of the 4 friends that joined me on the tour, all of them had biking experience and admitted it was a tough trail. I didn't quite keep up, but I really pushed myself, and I think all you lovelies at home would be pretty impressed with what I tackled! Some of it was really steep, and pretty technical (again, I walked the worst of it!), but I was especially thrilled with the downhill sections where you are whipping down the hill, dodging rocks, and navigating the twists and turns. It took a lot of concentration and I had a few close calls where I almost wiped out, but in the end I just couldn't wipe the smile off my face!
The historical sites were very cool, interesting, and I am really glad I visited them, but now I'm convinced mountain biking is the only worthwhile way to get there! Just say no to bus tours!
1. I haven't had more than 4-5 hours sleep the last two nights due to late nights and early mornings
2. I just expended more energy yesterday than I have since the Inka Trail.
Since I'm awake anyway I'll tell you about that great adventure!
There are some pretty nifty Inka ruins and salt mines around Chinchero, a bit of a drive outside Cusco. I have really wanted to see them since I first arrived, but I was really turned off bus tours after my super-touristy/boring city tour bus experience in January. Enter Peru Path, the non-profit tour company that I used for my Inka Trail Trek. These guys are so great at what they do; super knowledgeable about the Inkan history, fun, laid-back, helpful...AND the company supports education in needy local communities! What's not to love?
I shot off an email to my Inka Trail guide to inquire about whether they had tours to the Moras Moray sites, and received a quick affirmative. Before I knew it, I was getting together a group of students from my Spanish school for an all-day mountain bike tour!
This is especially funny to those that know that I haven't been on a bike in years, and I'm pretty sure I've never been mountain biking in my life.
However, I was determined that this was the best way to go because you really get to experience the countryside and it would be a personal challenge.
I was warned by one of the school staff that it was "difficult", but in my ignorance I thought, "how hard can it really be?".
Well, for one thing the seat was very hard, as my poor bruised bottom is now telling me!
And yes, it was really, really challenging, and I walked my bike up most of the hills...but at 3,500 meters above sea level, I'm going to blame at least a little bit of the rapid heartbeat and lung combustion on the altitude ;)
The good news is that I really loved the experience, and was inspired to give mountain biking a try back at home. Of the 4 friends that joined me on the tour, all of them had biking experience and admitted it was a tough trail. I didn't quite keep up, but I really pushed myself, and I think all you lovelies at home would be pretty impressed with what I tackled! Some of it was really steep, and pretty technical (again, I walked the worst of it!), but I was especially thrilled with the downhill sections where you are whipping down the hill, dodging rocks, and navigating the twists and turns. It took a lot of concentration and I had a few close calls where I almost wiped out, but in the end I just couldn't wipe the smile off my face!
The historical sites were very cool, interesting, and I am really glad I visited them, but now I'm convinced mountain biking is the only worthwhile way to get there! Just say no to bus tours!
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
Adventura de Domingo
I had big plans to pack in 2 bus tours this weekend...however, after last week's "city tour" I was reminded that in fact I loathe bus tours. The cramming of many tourists into many tiny seats, the herding of many tourists through sites of interest, and the pressuring to purchase overpriced touristy souvenirs is exhausting and actually not very enjoyable. It is a cheap and convenient way to cover a lot of ground in a short time, though.
After trekking the Inca Trail, beginning my volunteer placement, and a wild and fun birthday last week, I just wasn't up to putting myself through the tourist mill all weekend.
Instead, Saturday was spent making up for a few hours of Spanish lessons missed while I was away, and then enjoying a delicious lunch with the school secretary and my new friend/roommate from Holland.
In Cusco (and maybe all of South America, I'm not sure), the waiter will never bring your bill unless you ask for it. This is one of the things I love about South American culture...they are never in a rush (unless they're driving). You can spend hours in a restaurant ( and we did), and you will never feel like they are waiting for you to leave. Lingering and having long conversations over a meal is perfectly acceptable.
Sunday morning I woke up early and decided to go on an adventure. Rather than tour bus the destination in mind, I was going to self-guide! I roped in my new friend, and did a quick search for some details in my travel book. We walked to a certain street, haggled with a couple drivers, and were soon headed to the little riverside town of Pisac in a 12-passenger "colectivo" minibus (basically a taxi that doesn´t leave til it full).
I had heard that Pisac is best known for it's Sunday market, but I also knew that there were some Inca ruins too, which I personally find more interesting. Once we arrived we had to haggle again to get a taxi to take us to the ruins. Since only tourists go that way, the taxi drivers try to get away with absolute robbery. For instance, it cost us S/.6 for a 45 minutes drive to Pisac, but the taxi driver wanted S/.25 for a 15 min drive up the hill. We walked away from him three times, but he kept following us and lowering the price and eventually we gave in!
We shared the taxi with a Peruvian couple and their little girl, who was absolutely adorable! She sang us a little song in Spanish as we drove.
The Pisac ruins were much bigger and more elaborate than I expected! The main entrance area was packed with tourists on bus tours, and we even ran into a couple friends from Proyecto Peru who admitted they felt like they were being rushed from place to place. I tried not to feel smug about my decision to explore on my own.
Apparently there are park wardens that will give information about the sites for free, but we missed out on that. It was okay though because it was fun to just poke around on our own and take photos at our leisure without feeling like we were taking up someone's time, or feeling pressured to move on.
The ruins were very beautiful! At the entrance you overlook a huge terraced semi-circle built into the mountainside. The Incas used these terraces to grow different types of crops, because the difference in elevation could be quite extreme. For instance, they grew corn and quinoa on the lower levels, and potatoes higher up.
There were many structures that could've been homes, but there was also a military fortress and a temple. It was like a whole city on these mountains!
We were able to enjoy all of it because we didn't have to rush back to a bus! After about an hour the tourist hordes dispersed and we followed the trail around the mountain, up some steep stairs (my legs screamed in terror...they remember the Inca Trail all too well), through a tunnel, and emerged on the other side, with even more ruins to enjoy! It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, with only a handful of other visitors around. We had incredibly hot sunny weather, and I was so happy that we had as long as we wanted to take it all in.
If you follow the trail, it takes you through all the ruins, and then down the mountainside right into the center of Pisac, where the famous marketplace is. We browsed the stalls on our way to lunch. It was typical tourist stuff for the most part...alpaca goods, some little carved musical instruments, and jewellery. Eventually I will have to buy some stuff, but at that time food was priority!
We went to a tourist hot spot called Ulrike's, and enjoyed pumpkin cream soup, chickpea curry with mint chutney, and a slice of lemon cheesecake! Delicioso!
We caught another colectivo back to Cusco, and I really enjoyed catching a glimpse of non-touristy Peru as we drove. Because it is Sunday many places are closed, and because it was sunny out there were many families outside playing futbol or picnicking in the fields beside the road.
Cusco is a big, busy, noisy city, so it was really enjoyable to get outside and enjoy the outdoors. I'm really glad I visted Pisac the way I did.
Though I can't lie...I may brave another bus tour to see Lake Titticaca next weekend...
After trekking the Inca Trail, beginning my volunteer placement, and a wild and fun birthday last week, I just wasn't up to putting myself through the tourist mill all weekend.
Instead, Saturday was spent making up for a few hours of Spanish lessons missed while I was away, and then enjoying a delicious lunch with the school secretary and my new friend/roommate from Holland.
In Cusco (and maybe all of South America, I'm not sure), the waiter will never bring your bill unless you ask for it. This is one of the things I love about South American culture...they are never in a rush (unless they're driving). You can spend hours in a restaurant ( and we did), and you will never feel like they are waiting for you to leave. Lingering and having long conversations over a meal is perfectly acceptable.
Sunday morning I woke up early and decided to go on an adventure. Rather than tour bus the destination in mind, I was going to self-guide! I roped in my new friend, and did a quick search for some details in my travel book. We walked to a certain street, haggled with a couple drivers, and were soon headed to the little riverside town of Pisac in a 12-passenger "colectivo" minibus (basically a taxi that doesn´t leave til it full).
I had heard that Pisac is best known for it's Sunday market, but I also knew that there were some Inca ruins too, which I personally find more interesting. Once we arrived we had to haggle again to get a taxi to take us to the ruins. Since only tourists go that way, the taxi drivers try to get away with absolute robbery. For instance, it cost us S/.6 for a 45 minutes drive to Pisac, but the taxi driver wanted S/.25 for a 15 min drive up the hill. We walked away from him three times, but he kept following us and lowering the price and eventually we gave in!
We shared the taxi with a Peruvian couple and their little girl, who was absolutely adorable! She sang us a little song in Spanish as we drove.
The Pisac ruins were much bigger and more elaborate than I expected! The main entrance area was packed with tourists on bus tours, and we even ran into a couple friends from Proyecto Peru who admitted they felt like they were being rushed from place to place. I tried not to feel smug about my decision to explore on my own.
Apparently there are park wardens that will give information about the sites for free, but we missed out on that. It was okay though because it was fun to just poke around on our own and take photos at our leisure without feeling like we were taking up someone's time, or feeling pressured to move on.
The ruins were very beautiful! At the entrance you overlook a huge terraced semi-circle built into the mountainside. The Incas used these terraces to grow different types of crops, because the difference in elevation could be quite extreme. For instance, they grew corn and quinoa on the lower levels, and potatoes higher up.
There were many structures that could've been homes, but there was also a military fortress and a temple. It was like a whole city on these mountains!
We were able to enjoy all of it because we didn't have to rush back to a bus! After about an hour the tourist hordes dispersed and we followed the trail around the mountain, up some steep stairs (my legs screamed in terror...they remember the Inca Trail all too well), through a tunnel, and emerged on the other side, with even more ruins to enjoy! It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, with only a handful of other visitors around. We had incredibly hot sunny weather, and I was so happy that we had as long as we wanted to take it all in.
If you follow the trail, it takes you through all the ruins, and then down the mountainside right into the center of Pisac, where the famous marketplace is. We browsed the stalls on our way to lunch. It was typical tourist stuff for the most part...alpaca goods, some little carved musical instruments, and jewellery. Eventually I will have to buy some stuff, but at that time food was priority!
We went to a tourist hot spot called Ulrike's, and enjoyed pumpkin cream soup, chickpea curry with mint chutney, and a slice of lemon cheesecake! Delicioso!
We caught another colectivo back to Cusco, and I really enjoyed catching a glimpse of non-touristy Peru as we drove. Because it is Sunday many places are closed, and because it was sunny out there were many families outside playing futbol or picnicking in the fields beside the road.
Cusco is a big, busy, noisy city, so it was really enjoyable to get outside and enjoy the outdoors. I'm really glad I visted Pisac the way I did.
Though I can't lie...I may brave another bus tour to see Lake Titticaca next weekend...
Saturday, 17 January 2015
The long awaited update
Hola!
I'm sorry to have kept you faithful readers in suspense for so long...it's been crazy busy since I last wrote, I literally have not had time to write anything.
Yesterday (my birthday!) I got a few unexpected hours off in the afternoon, so after a much-needed siesta (which as everyone knows is probably the best birthday present I could receive), I decided to try to tap out a few thoughts and memories of my latest adventure: a four-day trek through the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu!
Where to begin??
I have done hiking and I have done camping, but I have never combined the two before, and to say I was nervous about embarking on this trek would be a serious understatement. I am not a hardcore outdoorswoman and I feared to the weight of my backpack (which ended up at approx. 11 kilos...which is a lot for me!) combined with the difficulty of the trail would be too much for me.
However...this is a challenge I have been thinking about for quite a while, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. It is another fear that I needed to overcome.
There is so much to say...and I can't seem to find the words...
I know it sounds cheesy, but this was not just a hike, it was also a journey on many different levels. There is a lot of time for reflection and I was challenged and confronted with things about myself that I wasn't expecting. If I had to sum up the whole experience in one word it would be "Humbling".
It was humbling to be surrounded by jagged mountain ranges, in absolute peace and quiet, just taking in the stunning natural beauty and incredible Inca ruins staggered along the trail. It made me feel transported to a different world, like I was sneaking a peek at "the big picture", which also made me feel completely tiny and insignificant.
It was humbling to be served by the porters, like the unjustly privileged white girl that I am. While I struggle to carry a 30 L padded, brandname backpack of my personal "necessities" up a hill, sweating and breathing hard, they scamper past with probably over twice as much weight on their backs in nothing more than glorified nylon bags, so that they can arrive at our campsite hours before us to set up our tents and cook us a gourmet meal. Some wear worn-out sandals, or sneakers, and they bring nothing for themselves but the clothes on their backs. They get up before us, and go to bed after us. They do our cooking and cleaning. They pack in everything from propane tanks to the dining table. Their lives are very difficult, and the work is the only way they can provide for their families.
And so they clap and thank us for our business. Humbling.
On the third day we got into a bit of a time crunch because we wanted to visit a certain historical sight which would close at 4:30pm, and we were running late. Due to the unrelenting evil stairs of the previous day followed by MORE hours of stairs that afternoon, we had to pick up the pace and my knees and quads literally gave out with about a half hour of walking left to go.
It is a difficult thing to face when your body refuses to do what you tell it to.
I am a proud woman and I do NOT like to admit defeat, or to accept help. That day, I had to do both. It was extremely Humbling, and I have a hard time admitting it even here where only friends will read it.
Neverthless, the trek was an amazing experience, and I loved almost every minute. I was with a really fun group, and our guide was funny, and very knowledgable and passionate about Inca history, which really enriched the whole trip. As a huge bonus, we had PERFECT weather the whole time. It basically only rained at night after we had gone to bed. Amazing. Especially since we are in the middle of the rainy season!
I´m sorry I am not able to to put up any photos at this time. I don´t have the cable to connect the camera, and there is no spot for the memory chip...I might be able to figure something out eventually, but for now you´ll just have to imagine it :)
I'm sorry to have kept you faithful readers in suspense for so long...it's been crazy busy since I last wrote, I literally have not had time to write anything.
Yesterday (my birthday!) I got a few unexpected hours off in the afternoon, so after a much-needed siesta (which as everyone knows is probably the best birthday present I could receive), I decided to try to tap out a few thoughts and memories of my latest adventure: a four-day trek through the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu!
Where to begin??
I have done hiking and I have done camping, but I have never combined the two before, and to say I was nervous about embarking on this trek would be a serious understatement. I am not a hardcore outdoorswoman and I feared to the weight of my backpack (which ended up at approx. 11 kilos...which is a lot for me!) combined with the difficulty of the trail would be too much for me.
However...this is a challenge I have been thinking about for quite a while, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. It is another fear that I needed to overcome.
There is so much to say...and I can't seem to find the words...
I know it sounds cheesy, but this was not just a hike, it was also a journey on many different levels. There is a lot of time for reflection and I was challenged and confronted with things about myself that I wasn't expecting. If I had to sum up the whole experience in one word it would be "Humbling".
It was humbling to be surrounded by jagged mountain ranges, in absolute peace and quiet, just taking in the stunning natural beauty and incredible Inca ruins staggered along the trail. It made me feel transported to a different world, like I was sneaking a peek at "the big picture", which also made me feel completely tiny and insignificant.
It was humbling to be served by the porters, like the unjustly privileged white girl that I am. While I struggle to carry a 30 L padded, brandname backpack of my personal "necessities" up a hill, sweating and breathing hard, they scamper past with probably over twice as much weight on their backs in nothing more than glorified nylon bags, so that they can arrive at our campsite hours before us to set up our tents and cook us a gourmet meal. Some wear worn-out sandals, or sneakers, and they bring nothing for themselves but the clothes on their backs. They get up before us, and go to bed after us. They do our cooking and cleaning. They pack in everything from propane tanks to the dining table. Their lives are very difficult, and the work is the only way they can provide for their families.
And so they clap and thank us for our business. Humbling.
On the third day we got into a bit of a time crunch because we wanted to visit a certain historical sight which would close at 4:30pm, and we were running late. Due to the unrelenting evil stairs of the previous day followed by MORE hours of stairs that afternoon, we had to pick up the pace and my knees and quads literally gave out with about a half hour of walking left to go.
It is a difficult thing to face when your body refuses to do what you tell it to.
I am a proud woman and I do NOT like to admit defeat, or to accept help. That day, I had to do both. It was extremely Humbling, and I have a hard time admitting it even here where only friends will read it.
Neverthless, the trek was an amazing experience, and I loved almost every minute. I was with a really fun group, and our guide was funny, and very knowledgable and passionate about Inca history, which really enriched the whole trip. As a huge bonus, we had PERFECT weather the whole time. It basically only rained at night after we had gone to bed. Amazing. Especially since we are in the middle of the rainy season!
I´m sorry I am not able to to put up any photos at this time. I don´t have the cable to connect the camera, and there is no spot for the memory chip...I might be able to figure something out eventually, but for now you´ll just have to imagine it :)
Monday, 5 January 2015
Weekend Update: Conquering Fears
Friday:
My second day of Spanish lessons. I'm adding more words to my vocabulary every day, but still struggling to understand people when they talk...comprehension is coming little by little.
I ventured out of my comfort zone today (this is now a daily occurrence...between the stress, mate de coca, and all the exploring on foot, my heart is getting pretty fit) when I ate lunch at a restaurant by myself after my lesson. Granted, not much speaking was required, but I didn't use any English at all, so that was an accomplishment!
Afterward I conquered another fear: bartering! I'm now a proud owner of a chompa de alpaca (alpaca sweater) which apparently I got a fair deal on. This is probably due to the compassion of the lovely woman who sold it to me, rather than my pathetically timid bartering skills. I probably looked like a drowned rat as I shivered and explained "soy muy frio!" ("I am very cold!"). Today was very rainy and cool, and there is no indoor heating anywhere! Now with my new purchase I am cozy and "muy caliente"! I wish I had more room in my pack to load up on these for my next Canadian winter!
My final task of the day was to get a phone. I rented a basic phone from the school for S/.10 a month (approximately $3-4) and bought the recommended amount of credit from a hole-in-the-wall pharmacy for an additional S/.5. Though I miss my trusty smartphone from home, I'm glad I didn't bring it. My roommate said his was stolen within his first week in Cusco.
I still haven't ridden the bus...this speaks to the amount of terror it strikes into my heart. I have been overcharged nearly every time I've taken the taxi, so I've begun walking everywhere which can take a very long time and usually results in me huddled in a doorway during a downpour. Maybe this weekend I'll finally take the bus...
Saturday:
Friday night had my stomach producing some interesting sounds, and after a sleepless night tossing and turning, I arose in the morning with a seriously upset stomach, feeling shaky and aching for sleep. The thought of food was not appealing, but I managed some breakfast and then postponed my planned putting and went straight back to bed. For the rest of the day.
I have no idea what it was...maybe a bug or delayed "soroche" (altitude sickness). Overall, I can't complain as it was relatively mild and I was feeling back to normal the next morning.
Sunday:
After breakfast and a cold shower (still not used to it), I decided enough was enough and I needed to tackle my (perhaps disproportionate) phobia of the city bus.
The buses here are independently owned companies, with names that can be quite funny (ie: "batman"). Their destinations are printed on the side, but since I only know approximately 3 streets and have only a very basic understanding of the city layout, this is not very helpful.
The buses honk as they approach the curb, and when the front door opens the driver's assistant hops out and shouts out the bus's destinations in hopes of attracting potential customers.
I approached the "pereno" (bus stop) hesitantly and even more timidly approached a stranger to inquire which bus I should take. My Spanish must have been muy malo indeed, because he simply brushed me off and I scurried back to my corner. My next tactic was to run up to the next business and ask the assistant "plaza de armas?". She shrugged with an indifferent "Si", and waved me aboard. I clambered into the first available seat, which happened to be at the front, and observed the proceedings with interest.
The main street by my guesthouse is one of the busiest in the city...basically that equivalent of a highway. Driving in Cusco is...an experience. Apart from a few stoplights, it mostly seems like a free-for-all! There are 3 lanes on this particular road, but they are more like guidelines. Cars drift between them at will, dodging built up traffick, pedestrians, and taxis creeping up from crossroads, or simply drive over the lines to keep their options open. I have never seen such aggressive yet skillful weaving through traffic...it looks like chaos, but I have yet to witness an accident or road rage. There is honking a-plenty, though! They honk for everything...to let pedestrians know they are approaching, to inform another car there isn't a chance in the world that they can cut in, to greet one another, or in the case of a bus making a stop: to say get out of my way, or I will crush you! I am even more impressed by the drivers here because there is basically no such thing as automatic transmission. Another fun fact: there are seriously old VW bugs and vans EVERYWHERE!
Back to my bussing experience.
People seemed to pay upon their departure, and the standard fare is 70 cientes...the equivalent of about $.23, which is a vast improvement over arguing with taxi drivers insisting on S/.5.
The downside, of course, is that I'm in charge of knowing where to hop off. I have yet to master this. Both times I rode the bus today resulted in a long walk to my actual destination (though not as long as it would have been without the bus)! Good thing I have nothing but time on my hands! Tomorrow I try again, with a different destination. We'll see how it goes!
My second day of Spanish lessons. I'm adding more words to my vocabulary every day, but still struggling to understand people when they talk...comprehension is coming little by little.
I ventured out of my comfort zone today (this is now a daily occurrence...between the stress, mate de coca, and all the exploring on foot, my heart is getting pretty fit) when I ate lunch at a restaurant by myself after my lesson. Granted, not much speaking was required, but I didn't use any English at all, so that was an accomplishment!
Afterward I conquered another fear: bartering! I'm now a proud owner of a chompa de alpaca (alpaca sweater) which apparently I got a fair deal on. This is probably due to the compassion of the lovely woman who sold it to me, rather than my pathetically timid bartering skills. I probably looked like a drowned rat as I shivered and explained "soy muy frio!" ("I am very cold!"). Today was very rainy and cool, and there is no indoor heating anywhere! Now with my new purchase I am cozy and "muy caliente"! I wish I had more room in my pack to load up on these for my next Canadian winter!
My final task of the day was to get a phone. I rented a basic phone from the school for S/.10 a month (approximately $3-4) and bought the recommended amount of credit from a hole-in-the-wall pharmacy for an additional S/.5. Though I miss my trusty smartphone from home, I'm glad I didn't bring it. My roommate said his was stolen within his first week in Cusco.
I still haven't ridden the bus...this speaks to the amount of terror it strikes into my heart. I have been overcharged nearly every time I've taken the taxi, so I've begun walking everywhere which can take a very long time and usually results in me huddled in a doorway during a downpour. Maybe this weekend I'll finally take the bus...
Saturday:
Friday night had my stomach producing some interesting sounds, and after a sleepless night tossing and turning, I arose in the morning with a seriously upset stomach, feeling shaky and aching for sleep. The thought of food was not appealing, but I managed some breakfast and then postponed my planned putting and went straight back to bed. For the rest of the day.
I have no idea what it was...maybe a bug or delayed "soroche" (altitude sickness). Overall, I can't complain as it was relatively mild and I was feeling back to normal the next morning.
Sunday:
After breakfast and a cold shower (still not used to it), I decided enough was enough and I needed to tackle my (perhaps disproportionate) phobia of the city bus.
The buses here are independently owned companies, with names that can be quite funny (ie: "batman"). Their destinations are printed on the side, but since I only know approximately 3 streets and have only a very basic understanding of the city layout, this is not very helpful.
The buses honk as they approach the curb, and when the front door opens the driver's assistant hops out and shouts out the bus's destinations in hopes of attracting potential customers.
I approached the "pereno" (bus stop) hesitantly and even more timidly approached a stranger to inquire which bus I should take. My Spanish must have been muy malo indeed, because he simply brushed me off and I scurried back to my corner. My next tactic was to run up to the next business and ask the assistant "plaza de armas?". She shrugged with an indifferent "Si", and waved me aboard. I clambered into the first available seat, which happened to be at the front, and observed the proceedings with interest.
The main street by my guesthouse is one of the busiest in the city...basically that equivalent of a highway. Driving in Cusco is...an experience. Apart from a few stoplights, it mostly seems like a free-for-all! There are 3 lanes on this particular road, but they are more like guidelines. Cars drift between them at will, dodging built up traffick, pedestrians, and taxis creeping up from crossroads, or simply drive over the lines to keep their options open. I have never seen such aggressive yet skillful weaving through traffic...it looks like chaos, but I have yet to witness an accident or road rage. There is honking a-plenty, though! They honk for everything...to let pedestrians know they are approaching, to inform another car there isn't a chance in the world that they can cut in, to greet one another, or in the case of a bus making a stop: to say get out of my way, or I will crush you! I am even more impressed by the drivers here because there is basically no such thing as automatic transmission. Another fun fact: there are seriously old VW bugs and vans EVERYWHERE!
Back to my bussing experience.
People seemed to pay upon their departure, and the standard fare is 70 cientes...the equivalent of about $.23, which is a vast improvement over arguing with taxi drivers insisting on S/.5.
The downside, of course, is that I'm in charge of knowing where to hop off. I have yet to master this. Both times I rode the bus today resulted in a long walk to my actual destination (though not as long as it would have been without the bus)! Good thing I have nothing but time on my hands! Tomorrow I try again, with a different destination. We'll see how it goes!
Friday, 2 January 2015
Friday, 24 October 2014
Detours, Dead-Ends, and Other Events
Sometimes things just don't go the way you want them to*.
After cruising through the Canadian prairies, we made a quick detour South and crossed the border into the United States. This was a bit of a blow to the Canadian-ness of our roadtrip, but it was justified by saving us time and money (as gas prices are ridiculously cheaper there).It was going to be another very long day of driving, and we were hoping to pass through quickly, so we placed sweet-n-innocent-looking Katharina in the driver's seat and crossed our fingers.
No such luck! We were quickly directed to drive into a bay where we were asked numerous questions and then scooted into a small waiting room. Strangely enough the window looking out to our vehicle was a one-way mirror in our favor, so we got to giggle as we watched the border guards struggle to open the trunk of our Grand Prix, setting off the alarm in the process. It doesn't have the usual release by the pedals, and there is no keyhole on the trunk...the only way to pop the trunk is to hold the lock switch on the driver's door for a few seconds. It took them about 10 minutes to admit defeat, and curtly ask Katharina to open it up for them, which she tried to do without laughing. After that they got to deal with our intense packing job, which they could not repack. And for all this trouble, the only thing they confiscated was a bag of oranges I had purchased the day before. I was sad.
Once across the border, we navigated the American highways with mixed success. To our Canadian eyes they were not quite as straightforward or well marked as we were used to, so we ended up missing a turn somewhere, and added an unnecessary 1-hour detour to our 15-hr driving day. Then our highway abruptly came to end with an abundance of bright orange signs and precious little detour direction, so we drove around for a while before finding another way through, desperately hoping we were headed to Canada.
Somewhere along the way, there was suddenly a thunderous noise from underneath us, and I turned to Steve and asked, "Is the car supposed to be making that sound?"
Turns out, our muffler went. Further inspection revealed a massive hole. We attempted to patch it with special muffler tape, but as it turns out the damage was too great, and there was no salvaging it. Steve liked the new revving sound, nicknaming our Grand Prix "The Ferrari", but the rest of us were not so pleased about the constant headache-inducing roar which remained for the duration of the trip.
Somewhere along the way, there was suddenly a thunderous noise from underneath us, and I turned to Steve and asked, "Is the car supposed to be making that sound?"
Turns out, our muffler went. Further inspection revealed a massive hole. We attempted to patch it with special muffler tape, but as it turns out the damage was too great, and there was no salvaging it. Steve liked the new revving sound, nicknaming our Grand Prix "The Ferrari", but the rest of us were not so pleased about the constant headache-inducing roar which remained for the duration of the trip.
This time we tried a new tactic. We placed bearded-and-tattooed Steve in the driver's seat, and crossed our fingers.
The Canadian border guard asked, "Where are you from and where are you going?"...and after a cursory glance at our passports, practically waved us on our way before Steve had finished our story.
Oh Canada.
We made it back to our homeland, and spent the night in Sault St. Marie, Ontario.
*Because I made this announcement, I feel obligated to update you all and let you know that Steve and I are no longer together. This is sad, of course, yet I have nothing but good memories of our time together. The roadtrip has not been tainted for me so I will continue to document it, but maybe with fewer photos than might otherwise have been posted.
Tuesday, 30 September 2014
The Prairies
Steve and I started our cross-Canada trip about as far West as you can get: Vancouver Island. We flew from Comox, BC to Calgary Alberta, however, so the real "roadtrip" portion didn't begin until later.
 |
| Enjoying some BC Ferries deck time! |
 |
| Regis loves Vancouver Island! |
 |
| Some friends took us to Nymph Falls near Comox...it was beautiful! |
In Calgary we enjoyed visiting the Calgary Zoo, ogling the penguins, the fantastically enormous rhinoceros, and Steve's favorite: the cougar.
The next day we met up with the rest of our roadtrip team: Kat and Malerie! The day began at 5AM, and we had a lot of driving to do!
 |
| Filling the first tank for the first time! And probably the cheapest time too. |
 |
| Regis assumed his favorite place in the car. |
I have a confession: I was born on the Canadian prairies. Its not usually information I volunteer, as I consider myself a BC girl at heart, having spent the vast majority of my life in Beautiful British Columbia. But, I feel its relevant because maybe I won't sound quite so terribly biased when I diss the prairies...
 |
| Saamis Teepee: the largest teepee in the world! Medicine Hat, AB. |
I know, I know. The prairies have their own kind of beauty...and I probably haven't given them a fair chance.To me, the prairies are boring. They're flat. No mountains, hardly any trees, a few sad-looking lakes...it just doesn't do it for me. So I wasn't sorry that when we started our cross-Canada roadtrip, we basically cruised right on through, almost without stopping.
Next time: our detour through the states, and our first big sightseeing day!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)