Party of one

     When I tell people that I’ll be traveling alone, I get a myriad of responses and facial expressions.  There’s the simple concerned face of people like my mother who are genuinely concerned that a rando at a gas station is going to abduct and murder me.  Let me start by saying that this could happen anywhere at any point in time and quite frankly if someone wants to abduct and murder me, it’s not going to matter if I’m rolling solo or with someone else.  Bad things happen daily unfortunately, and I’m not one to sit and cower in fear.  It’s not worth it. 

     There are also lots of confused faces wondering if I will be lonely. I planned an 18 day trip by myself traveling national and state parks throughout the US. First of all, let me clarify that none of these places are empty.  It’s July; there are lots of folks everywhere.  And I have made casual, friendly conversation with people everywhere. There were the travelers in line at security; the mom traveling with 2 small children (praise her); and then the other solo wanderers you encounter at the campsites. There are a lot of us.  It’s not just me who sets out on her own to wander solo.  

      But let me also take a minute to speak on this concept of loneliness. Am I lonely? OF COURSE! There are times where I wish I had someone to talk to in the car (but then I just typically talk to myself) or to share this crazy experience with right there in the moment (like when I couldn’t finish dinner last night). But this feeling is natural and okay.  It is okay to feel lonely and to wish that you had someone to share this time with. However, I also think you need to sit there, see your loneliness, and fiercely embrace it.  Why as a society are we so terrified at being alone? At seeing things from only our own perspective? To experience life through our own eyes and not someone else’s? 

     I’d also like to ponder as to why we equate loneliness with sadness.  Is it not possible for us to feel that loneliness, but to also be genuinely elated with our current situation? Why has society told us we must have a person to make us feel genuinely happy and fulfilled? Are there scientific studies on this? I’m sure there probably are because obviously confining prisoners to solitary is apparently a successful strategy (though I’m not sure I totally believe it). But to live your daily life without a person, to see friends and family when you like but to also be able to sit alone, reflecting in silence ... this I feel like is a rarity in society that few understand. I also think it’s a quality that should be empowered and not diminished. To sit alone and to calm your mind makes you stronger, and society should not see this as those alone as being weak. 

    So folks, am I lonely at times? Totally. I’m also over the moon with how free I feel. To be able to roam alone is a beautiful gift that I hope each of you may experience at some point in your life.  

Chicago

Everyone in Chicago is so friendly; it’s just such a friendly city. This is what Amber keeps telling me all morning over coffee. I think she misspoke slightly. Certain folks in Chicago are super friendly ... though I’m not sure they are all there. Some of them definitely are. The first lady we encountered however may just have had a few loose screws up top. Audrey offered to show us around seeing as Amber had an interview that afternoon, which she nailed by the way....WAY TO GO AMBER!! Anyhow, as we are walking to the metro, we encounter a woman out on what seemed to be her daily walk around the neighborhood. She was clad in a pink walking outfit and matching sneaks...oh and the socks, I can’t forget the socks. They were just plain white socks, like the non-athletic kind, but she had them pulled all the way up as if they were the old-school 70’s tube socks. Out of nowhere, she begins talking about random stuff. She was all over the place, to most of which we were all 3 just nodding and smiling. But in the end, what I got out of it was that God was bringing a big storm (aka the rapture) because people are doing evil things like shooting planes out of the sky and stuff. Oh and the neighborhood had changed a lot and she used to live in San Antonio where they had roaches the size of her hand. Friendly? Eh...maybe....but I’m voting a lil more on the crazy.

We spent the day roaming around doing the typical tourist thing. We walked all around stopping at the typical attractions, like the bean. The bean I don’t quite get. Is is cool? Sure...I guess? I just don’t quite understand why it is such a big attraction. It’s just a large metal structure in the shape of a bean ... or a kidney. I think I may start calling it the kidney....I think that’s a tad more fitting. Like “Hey have you ever seen that giant metal kidney in Chicago?” I would probably be more intrigued by that line than just a bean. 

Lake Michigan, however, is beautiful ... and huge. It’s like a freakin’ ocean. But I can understand now as to how people could really live in such a city as Chicago. It’s nice and all but pretty standard in my opinion in regards to large cities ... but that lake makes it superior to many....I’m just sayin’.

One thing that I am quite jealous of Chicagoans is their access to different beers. Deschutes (which is out of Oregon in case you’re not cool enough to know where that is) is available in Chicago. Oh what I would do to have access to Deschutes beer on a daily basis. It is most definitely one of my favorite breweries in the country. And now Audrey and Amber can enjoy it whenever they please ... um can you say jelly?? On the other hand, Chicago proved that day to be just as hot as North Carolina, and their winters are way more harsh ... so perhaps that’s the trade off.

The following morning, we awoke, had our coffee, gathered our things, and bid them fair-well. We had a long trail ahead of us. Jesse’s friend, Brad, had a spot for us in Rapid City, South Dakota ... so we had a ways to travel ... but just like 950 miles....that’s only like 14 hours right?? No problem ... or so we thought.

#WestwardHo

And we’re off. With our packs ready, the Subaru packed to about the brim, and enough munchie food to keep Jesse content most of the drive to Chicago, we set off on the adventure. Chicago’s drive, can I just say, is longer than it seems like it should be. Google Maps claims that it is only 10 hours; however, it seemed to be the longest 10 hours ever.  Actually no it was 10 hours ... we just didn’t know at the time what 10 hours was like I suppose. We would realize long drives the next day en route to South Dakota. 

What can I say about driving through a bunch of states at a fairly rapid speed? Oh! First the tunnels. I-77 in Virginia is a fan of some tunnels cutting right through mountains. And they are awesome. They remind me of being a kid traveling to Jersey for the summer and crossing the Chesapeake Bay via tunnel. We used to try to hold our breath the entire way, which never happened because that tunnel takes like 5 minutes to drive through and what 8 year old do you know that can hold their breath for 5 minutes? I didn’t try to hold my breath this time...that shall be reserved solely for the Chesapeake. 

Next up West Virginia ... I know the Wild and the Wonderful ... they have these travel plazas which are kind of confusing. Well the plaza itself is not confusing; they are actually quite convenient. But there are multiples of them in the Wild and Wonderful state and they all are EXACTLY the same. So you feel like you’ve visited that exact travel plaza before, but in turn you actually probably just stopped at another one on some random road trip through the night in your early 20s (or really I should be saying ‘I’ not you...I took these random trips; perhaps you did too, but I don’t know these things). Oh and they are a hub for every stereotypical person you could have in West Virginia. You’ve got the random goth girl with skull/cross tattoos and gauges working the register at the Starbucks; then the teeny-bopper possibly high school cheerleader fixing your coffees; the dread-head festi-friend working at S’barro; and then a whole bunch of random folks that make you feel like you're perhaps in a Wal-Mart ... that is until you remind yourself that you are not, you are just in a West Virginian Travel Plaza.

Upon surviving the West Virginia Travel Plaza, we head west ... #westwardho! ... that is to Kentucky. Now I love Kentucky ... I really do! It’s the home of bourbon and bluegrass .... I mean what is NOT to love!!?? However, the back road was fun for about the first 30 - 40 miles; the other 40 - 50 mile got old real fast .... we were super happy that we fueled up right before that road because running out of gas out there would have been treacherous. I didn’t think that I would be so happy to see Ohio, but I so was. Ohio was a blink ... we drove through Cincinnati and pretty much that was it ... and onto Indiana. Indiana was full of corn. I have never seen corn fields like they have in Indiana. Oh, and turbines ... ... lots and lots of wind farms, which made my soul real happy. I think had it not been for the turbines, I would have been much less content with the state of Indiana.

By the time we reached Chicago, it was late. We had trekked about 1,000 miles, crossed into a new time zone, and passed through enough states to make us both ready to crash out. And luckily, Amber and Audrey had a sweet spot with a very comfy air mattress and a couch that was actually big enough for Jess, which made us both super happy.

Totally forgot about the Barbaras!!

Totally forgot about the Barbara's

So the Barbaras. Last entry I entitled Seattle: ... Barbaras. But then I, like the ding dong I am, spoke about everything but the Barbaras. No, Barbara is not a reference to Barbie or a bunch of friends we made while in Seattle. 

Barbara is in reference to the Spanish word barba. Those of you who know me  well and rrrspeak Spanish are probably laughing your asses off. I know. It's shameful. But it's rude to talk about people when they're within earshot. So if they don't know what you're saying I think that you are safe. 

Barba is the Spanish word for beard. Yes, now it all makes sense right? If you don't know me then this entry will really make no sense for you. The west coast is full of things that I love: coffee stands, good beer, and bearded, Chaco wearing, carhartt sporting dudes. It's pretty fantastic. I can't explain what it is with me and beards, but I can tell you that I've never dated a dude who didn't have a beard. If you're out and I have no idea who you are, I am legitimately 20 times more likely to be attracted to you if you have some sort of scruff. 

So as we were walking through Seattle, I was mentioning all of the good beards and cute bearded guys. And because Jessica and lyn know me well and know my love for a good beard, they kept pointing them out (and fairly loudly might I add) as we walked by. I don't remember quite what prompted it, but at some point we decided we need to be more discreet .... Hence the Barbaras.  

It began as barba, but that was obviously code plus my non-Spanish speaking friends had trouble with this simple Spanish word. So it became barbara. Then the barrette was created as well. The lady friend of the noted Barbara was originally dubbed the Barbara-ett which in turn morphed into a barrette. So during my west coast travels, we have been on the lookout for Barbaras without barrettes. I may even start a new blog entitled Barbaras sans barrettes. Would it be weird of me to walk around asking single bearded guys to let me take their picture for my site? But just of the beard. We have to respect one's privacy.  

Seattle: ferries, clouds, and Barbaras

Seattle: ferries, clouds, and Barbaras

As I mentioned before, lyn lives in la Conner, which is about an hour or two north of Seattle depending on traffic. So we opted just to go down for the day, though I knew we could have spent much more time. But it was easier and more feasible to just do a day trip. Along the way, as we take in the beautiful I-5 view of mountains, valleys and old-school iron bridges, we encounter a rest stop sign. It's at this moment that Jessica informs us how much she enjoys rest stops.

Rest stops??! A little strange ... right? But she doesn't actually enjoy the physical structure with its lack of sanitation and cherry-Chapstick smell. It's more of a childhood memory; but not just one memory. It signifies all family vacays she took as a kid. I guess some folks have pleasant memories of family road trips. I actually think that I enjoy road trips so much now because I can determine when i stop, what kind of music, and of course the fact that my car has AC is clutch. Anyhow, after this point lyn decides that we definitely have to stop. Jessica embarrasses easily and she was definitely opposed to us stopping. And even more so opposed to a photo-op in front of the sign. It made for some interesting photos! And those lyn, those you are more than welcome to post to face-space and tag away; because Jess has not fully figured out how to de-tag herself and it will be overly amusing. 

Upon arrival in Seattle, we immediately hit up Pike Place Market. Yes. We were tourists. But it's okay; we weren't tourons. And according to some folks (mostly in Alaska) I blend In well wherever I go. So if it wasn't just for this damn camera ...

Anyhow, the market was packed with people, most of whom were tourists. It's the infamous market where they toss the fish from fisherman to vendor. But it was quite intriguing. And one thing I have noticed about the great northwest is that their flowers are amazing! Everywhere you go, the hanging baskets are full and lush. Apparently it's because it cools down so much in the evening thAt they never get scorched or dehydrated. Can a plant get dehydrated?? I'm not sure but it sounds good, right? And Pike Place was no exception. Buckets and bucket of brightly colored lush flowers lined the counters of multiple vendors. Several petite, little Asian women quickly pulled multiple flowers, stripped the stems of their leaves and arranged them beautifully into full color coordinated bouquets, wrapped in white butcher paper, and propped dutifully yet eloquently in front of their stand. I'm not going to lie. I was slightly enthralled as to how swiftly their hands moved making these elegant colorful bunches. I could have sat down in front and watched them work for hours. 

Next stop, being the tourists that we were, was the Seattle center: home to none other than the infamous space needle. But remember we're not tourons so we didn't need to go up. Just decided to get close enough to know that we had been there and get a few photos for evidence. Mind you that the chihuly glass museum/park/display thing was in this same area. So we had more than just the space needle to see. 

The chihuly glass display was completely indescribable. 

Chihuly is this glass blower artist who was born in probably the 40s or so and I think he grew up in the northwest region. I could probably google his name and find out more but that seems like it would take too much effort. 

Ok I got curious and googled him. So be grateful. I made all that effort just for you! But seriously for the most part I was right. It's dale chihuly and he was born in 41 in Tacoma Washington which is just south of Seattle. Apparently he studied glass blowing in the 60s (figures right?? He even went study at a glass program at the univ of Wisconsin. Only in Madison) and then continued to learn through working collectively in Venice. But he creates these amazing giant glass sculptures all out of smaller pieces placed intricately together. It was amazing. It was part eccentric, part profound, part dr. Seuss. I was floored. Then we reached the garden section of the display which was a point were I did not think I could be further impressed and then I was. I was already amazed at the floral abilities of the northwest and then to have someone create displays to further enhance these amazing giant (like 10 feet tall giant) glass-blown sculptures, is absolutely phenomenal. All in all I have to say that if there's one thing worth spending $20 on in Seattle, it is this display. And $20 when you're a Couchsurfing, hostel staying nomad is a bit much. 

Leaving the chihuly garden and glass display (I learned from google that's what it is called), we decided that it was time to begin our brewery tour. We were determined to surpass our goal of 3 from yesterday. We failed. But we tried. Seattle has some wicked traffic in the evenings. And that traffic definitely deterred us from certain parts of the city, which was a tad upsetting because there seemed to be some awesome breweries around the southern part of downtown. But no worries. We were still going to get our brews in. We began at McMenemins, which turns out to be this huge microbrew franchise throughout the northwest. They have around 50 or so pubs between Washington and Oregon. Crazy! It was good though. I tend to be quite the beer snob (unless I'm broke and then I'm drinking pbr by choice) and so sometimes a breweries beers don't impress me. McMenemins definitely did, which made me happy. After a pint and some food (which I finished all of almost putting myself into a food coma and being made fun of for being so full after a half-Sammy and side salad ... I have a pea-sized tummy and can't eat much in one sitting. It's a serious issue that I'm working on), we decided to move on and find another spot. At this point, we were not real sure if we'd reach our goal.

We find our car and pay the ridiculous parking charges. Seattle is out of control with their parking. It's like $7-12 an hour in most lots!! It's completely absurd. We decide to head north, as to not have to backtrack after the fact. As we are walking down the street the traffic is bumper to bumper. So I tell lyn just go left (south opposite of traffic) and ill get us around. We take a right to loop around and bam! More traffic. Ughhh. At this point, she has decided we just need to take a direct route because we don't know where the traffic will be in other spots and tie way we won't get lost. Well that didn't exactly work out as planned. In trying to head back around we ended up in the wrong lane and couldn't get over forcing us to go north into a neighborhood. It was a cool little detour. I don't think they trusted me to get them around initially, but my navigational skills are pretty keen so I knew we'd be fine. This neighborhood was so well-kept and pristine, full of funky older bungalows that probably sell for $800,000+. But they were fun to look at! Eventually we made our way back to the main road, joined the traffic momentarily, crossed the bridge over, I think, lake union and entered the Fremont neighborhood. Again super cute, slightly funky Lil' neighborhood that I'm sure costs hundreds of thousands to live in. But it's fun to visit. 

We hit up the Fremont brewing company and were immediately pegged as tourists. It was that damn camera again! But I'm pretty sure that this also may have been a big neighborhood spot that maybe doesn't get many visitors that aren't intentionally looking for it. This place definitely stood right up against kulshan in Bellingham as one of the best breweries. Similar set up: tasting room/bar and giant outdoor area; great brews and a very friendly bartender (he gave us a free 22 to take home since it was our first time), but it was the same guy who called me a tourist. After finishing our beers, and getting the book up on some merch, we decided that we had failed. There would be no more brewery tours for the day. It was late and we were to have an early start in the morning, so off we headed towards the camper. 

Breweries from Bellingham to Seattle

Breweries from Bellingham to Seattle 

The adventure had begun. Two of my favorite hookerfaces (aka people) and I had one week to show Washington what was up. Lyn now lives in this quaint little coastal town, la Conner, so that was our first stop for some brews and grub in our slightly delirious state. The town has a rough population of 800, a lot of whom are older and male. To say that I felt a little out of place is obvious. So far this trip, I have hung in two towns of roughly that population and everyone definitely notices that you are new ... And female. 

After roaming the strip that is all of about a mile long, we wearily resign back to lyn's camper. To say that Jess and I were in rare form at this point could possibly have been an understatement. We have some photo documentation of that evening and quite frankly they will never see the light of day (eh hem lyn ... listen up!) The delirium and excitement of our adventure had taken over and we were definitely feeding off of each other. 

The real day 1 (6.25.13): Bellingham 

Ok let's just start by saying that Bellingham luckily has more than 800 folks, so I didn't totally stand out. However the large and in charge new dslr camera that I was sporting definitely did. And I obviously had no idea how to use it. I had just bought it that morning. Because this genius over here decided to procrastinate and not start packing until 11 at night, which cAused the simple camera I already l owned to stay plugged in charging and never make it into my bags. Doh! 

Bellingham is awesome. Period. That's the end of this blog entry. 

Okay. Fine. I'll explain to you just as to why Bellingham may be one of my top new desired places on the planet. It's quaint without being small. It holds the beauty and charm of Asheville, though while being totally more genuine. It's overcast and 50 degrees in June; everyone is wearing jeans and sweaters, yet they are all smiley, as if this is the best day they have ever come across. Except for that one server. But we're just going to leave him out of this blog. 

We began the day with breakfast. I love eating breakfast and especially out. I could contently eat saltines and bread the rest of the day as long as I get a killer breakfast. And can I just say thank all of the higher powers for urban spoon. It always points me in the right direction for amazing breakfast places. In Bellingham, it was "The Old Town Cafe". Small and packed even at 10 on a Tuesday, but after eating there, you get it. Something I have noticed while out west is that the majority of their restaurants are smart. You ask for a glass of water and the server points to a communal table with a cooler and stacks of glasses. It's help yourself. Genius! Heidi and Sarah are you paying attention here??! 😉 Also community family-style tables. Love it! I mean yes not everyone is up for sitting beside a random soul to eat their breakfast, but for me it's awesome for travelers as well as for volume/capacity. 

Anyhow, after stuffing ourselves to an absurd capacity, we set off to explore the downtown. We did some thrifting and some wandering ... Actually lots of wandering. And decided it was time to check out what sort of local brews this awesome and quaint city had to offer. First stop was Boundary Bay Brewing. Their brews were quite good and they had a thorough collection of your standards (ipa, stout, pils, etc) as well as quite a few unique styles, such as a CDA (cascadia dark ale .. It was tasty). However, it was there that we encountered the service that we are not going to talk about in this blog. After finishing our beers, we were off to the next spot: chuckanut. Just a few blocks away and still in the downtown space. Now here the folks were all good, the location was clutch, and the facility itself was pretty rad. However, they did not have any variety in their beers. They focused on pilsners, blondes, kolsch, and hefeweisen. None of which I drink or enjoy, so this was horribly disappointing. Finally we decided to hit up the last brewery that we knew of: kulshan. I looked it up and according to the map it was a mile up the road. As we began to walk though we realized that mile was not going to keep us downtown. You were walking through downtown, then suddenly were no longer really in downtown, and then suddenly in a new awesome little neighborhood. Kulshan was by far the most awesome. 

Kulshan reminded me a lot of wicked weed in Asheville. Plus they were celebrating Christmas in June so had all winter brews on tap in addition to their regulars. And everyone was rocking Santa hats and there were some guys playing Christmas music out front. It was a totally awesome and rad theme. They had a good selection of beers, which is always nice. Plus when you ordered a sampler, you could do the 6 of your choice which isn't a always the case. We met Nate's doppelgänger there too which was amusing. We impressed him with our desire of hoppy high-octane beers. We ordered a sampler  and threw him, going straight for all the ipA, imperial, hop-heavy beers they had. I think he was a smidge speechless. The coolest part though: the sampler mat was a wooden board shaped into the state of Alaska. Pictures will follow. Don't worry. 

We concluded our day with Mexican and margaritas at some random little divey style place on the way back. And this place was banging! They even had ceviche. And GOOD ceviche. Typically you can't find very good ceviche here in the states, but this place had it down. I was super impressed. 

Seattle was day 2 and it's going to have to wait. This Lil nomad soul needs to roll into her bed and sleep til she can sleep no more. Did I mention that I slept for almost 13 hours last night??! It was insane. I don't think I've slept much thus far on this vacay. 

Why haven't I started this yet??!

Ok yes I am officially a roaming, nomadic slacker. I have been floating around the west side since June 24 and have not updated a soul as to my adventure. Like I said ... Major slacker over here. So now as I sit in the anchorage airport awaiting my 3rd flight, I figured it was about time I took care of this little bout of blogging laziness that I was having.

But now the question is where do I even begin??! Perhaps I will start where it all began: a very early morning with extra TSA in Raleigh. Fun times. I know. 

When I bought my ticket from Raleigh to Seattle (my first destination) my main concern was money of course :) I don't need to fly in style or at the most convenient of times; I just want to save money. I swear if there was a megA-thrift that sold airplane tickets, that is where I'd buy mine. Wait... They already have that: cheaptickets.com. 

Anyway, when I bought my ticket, it was an epic drop in price from ones I had seen earlier... Score!! But it was out of Raleigh. Oh and at 6 am. But me, miss thrifty pants over here, convinced myself that I would be fine. Maybe I'm getting old. Or maybe I have just become a slightly pretentious flyer. I'm honestly not sure. But flying at 6 AM is miserable in my book. Plus since I don't live in Raleigh, this meant leaving my home around 2 in the morning ... Not my finest of moments. 

So the Sunday night plan goes into play. I will get everything together, packed and ready to roll and be in bed by 8. Right ... Did you all just laugh as hard as I did?? Because that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! First, I am the biggest procrastinator known to man. The entire day was spent cleaning for 30 minutes, and then distracting myself for an hour. This is not the most efficient way to clean your house by the way. Second, who actually can fall asleep by 8 when they know they are about to embark on an epic, three-week, roaming adventure?!! Not this girl. Needless to say, I was still doing laundry and packing at 11. 

Finally , right before midnight, the pack is set and the house is clean, mostly. Oatis is pacing frantically because he recognizes what is going on; however Juno is clueless and was constantly interrupting my packing by laying on top of everything. He definitely had the smarter approach of getting my attention.  Now I think to myself "it's midnight. To sleep ... Er I mean nap or do I just distract myself for the next 2 hours. I choose to nap. Though, I did it the right way: showered and in my clothes so that I could literally get out of bed at 2, grab the ready-brewed mason jar of coffee and walk out the door. This plan , mind you, would have been flawless had I gotten up on time. 

No I didn't wake up on time, but I only overslept about 20 minutes which is very good for me. The rest of the plan played out as it should. Jess and I hit the road in Moshi with my mason jar of coffee a little before 3. 

We get into Raleigh, park and get our boarding passes according to plan. As we are sitting at the gate, we notice around 6 TSA officers. Strange. They then make an announcement that you will have to show identification and tickets to an officer before showing them to the the boarding flight people. We never figured out what was going on , but it was definitely odd to say the least. 

We have a quick flight to Detroit, a quick layover, and then we were on our way! Or so we thought. Initially it's delayed an hour. Alright an hour ... No worries. Arriving in Seattle at 11:30 versus 10:30 is no big deal. So as I am relaying this info to lyn who was going to pick us from the airport, they change the times. Now they're not sure when we'll take off. There is some sort of a mechanical problem, so they are getting us a new plane of which requires a larger crew, which they were working on. But they gave us $20 in food and drink vouchers. So why people were complaining afterwards, I'm not real sure. Jess and I made the best of it by hitting up the Cuervo tequilería for some nachos and margaritas. I mean we were still on vacay!

Finally we arrive weary and hungry around 4 or so pacific time. So mind you on minimal sleep I have begun my adventure with a travel time of roughly 15 hours. And this was just the beginning. 

Mental prep

I leave tomorrow night....yes that would be Monday... To begin a journey that will put me in NC very early thursday morning. I don't know if there is a way for you to mentally prepare for a journey like this. The itinerary is as follows:

Bus - depart máncora: 5:15 pm monday 
         Arrive lima : 12:30 pm Tuesday

Plane - depart lima : 9:56 pm tuesday
           Arrive Quito, Ecuador : 12:21 am Wednesday
          Depart Quito : 6:20 am Wednesday
           Arrive bógota, colombia: 7:50 am Wednesday
           Depart bogota: 10:20 am Wednesday
           Arrive Miami, Florida : 3:00 pm wednesday

Car: depart Miami - 4:30/5:00 pm Wednesday (more or less)
      Arrive winston-Salem, nc : 6:00 am thursday

At this point, this travel itinerary just seems a tad ridiculous. Can I get some ambian please? :)

Viviendo con hombres....blehh......Qué horrible

So I have been in máncora for a few days now and it's quite lovely. I'm staying at a Loki hostel which is a south American hostel chain. In retrospect, it would probably not be my first choice. But at the time, I didn't have too much info on the hostels here and a lot of them seemed like little shanty style, which I was done with. Plus it was 9 am and I had just finished a, like, 17 hour bus ride....so I was disoriented to say the least and in desperate need of a place to out my bag down and get a cup of coffee. The girl that I had met in Lima had stayed at a Loki before and had kind of convinced me of it already. Then when I stumbled upon it, I was totally down. It's a tad more expensive than what I was used to paying (36 soles/person for a small dorm versus 20-30soles per person for a private room) but they are right on the beach, have a pool, wi-fi, a bar, and offer breakfast. Plus the beds are quite comfy. Plus from what I had read the nicer hostels in máncora were going to be similarly priced. So there I was: Loki hostel for my last stay in Perú. 

So they put me in a small dorm (4 people and a private bath) with 3 other guys. The one dude was sleeping the entire day that I arrived (rough night I suppose) and the other 2 checked out shortly after my arrival. I have no issue staying with guys. Granted I don't feel comfortable sleeping in my underwear but I don't typically get to do that when I'm staying in a dorm anyhow. That night I didn't see dude #1 at all and the other 2 beds stayed open. The next morning 2 more boys arrived. They are (and I could be wrong of their nationality) Matt from Australia and Tim I think from the uk.  Tim however had been traveling so much that I kind of lost track of where he started. That iS one thing I have noticed. I have met a ton of europeans and a lot of them have been hopping around for at least 6 months if not longer. Mist be nice. I'm not quite sure how any if them can afford it but power to them. Though the one girl I spoke with did say that after she graduated she had planned this and moved back home to live with her parents and work to save. Which makes a lot of sense. Plus the pound and euro are so strong here (sîan said it was like 4.7 soles to the pound! It's only 2.7 to the dollar :( ) that I suppose they can travel a tad easier. I wish I got paid in £.  

But yes, so they are all nice enough. Tim did some teaching in cusco so we had some good convos about teaching and American politics ( he thinks plain is quite the idiot!). However they are gross!!! They leave food all over the place, hair in the sink from shaving, I think there was pee on the floor near the toilet the other morning, and I'm pretty sure I woke up to one of them jacking off this morning. Ugh boys. And if that's not enough you wake up (and I'm usually the first up) they have the luck to just sleep in their boxers, but boxers don't alwAys provide a ton of privacy and because it's the beach we just have a sheet on our beds which you don't really use because it's so flipping warm....so yea I've seen a bit more than I'd care to in that regard. At this rate, I'll never want to live with another boy again!!

Other than that the hostel is fine. Though noisy as hell. It's kind of like throwing yourself into a giant Real World/frat party extravaganza. I think I prefer the mellow little hostels with fewer accomodations. But I guess you live and learn!

La salida de meggy: ¡Ay! Qué triste :(

So Megs left this evening and I have to say it's a pretty sad feeling. Though quite invigorating at the same time. I loved getting a cab for her though. We were just outside of laurens host family's apartment where she had left stuff. We get a cab for her pretty quickly. She explains where she needs to go and asks how much. 40 soles. Ummm 30? Megs asks. The cab driver winces and says 35. I look at her like ok that's doable. Shed been joking that she would have to find a cab for 30 b/c that is all she had. But I thought when she mentioned that to the guy she was honestly just joking. Oh no. She hadn't been. She looked at me and says "you have 5 soles because I only have 30." I laugh and look in my wallet hoping that I do. ¡Claro! And hand her the 5 soles. Oh Megs. She looks at me and says I was just going to keep flagging down cabs till I found one for 30. I love my hermanita and was sad as  the cab drove off. 

When we got in today from our uneventful ride from paracas, I waited in line at the bus station to get the first ticket to Máncora. 3:30 tomorrow the lady tells me, after I have waited in lime for 30 minutes. Seriously??! Well looks like I'm staying the night in Lima which is fine. I was just hoping to catch a night bus immediately. But the bus, even though it leaves in the afternoon, won't arrive in máncora until 9 Thursday morning. So I suppose that's the best I'm gonna get. 

We hail a cab to take us to parque Kennedy, which is close enough to lauren's apartment. The driver looks at me: 10 soles. I am shocked sometimes at how brazen I am. I laugh slightly in his face and shake my head no. Last time we took a cab it was only 6. He starts to point to a sign that explains how much cab fares should be. Look parque Kennedy 10 soles. I, on a whim, make up a story about how I have lived in miraflores and taken cabs to and from. It has been 6-8 soles in the past but never more than 8. There are 2 cab drivers hovering and the original looks at me like I'm crazy but the other After a few seconds is like ok ok whatever. Come on. That's what I thought!! 

After we get in the cab ready to roll Megs turns to me and asks if I'd seen the guys that were sitting and watching us. I had but had been too involved in negotiating to pay attention to what they were saying. She hadn't caught it all but apparently they were commenting on the gringa giving the cab drivers a hard time. :) what can I say...I'm a brazen one at times. 

So now I'm here at some common backpacker hostel. It's kind of loud but filled with travelers which is pretty cool. I spoke with the girl who is in the bunk below And turns out she's is heading to mancera tomorrow also. So I think were going to share a cab over. So looks like this hostel will work out. 

I also picked up another book for my journey. I dont remember the title but it's about an autistic man who is highly affected by the death of a neighbors dog. It sounds really good and I'm quite excited to have it for the last leg of my journey. 

Oh the last leg of my journey. It sounds so sad. Though I'm happy to have it ending with some solo time on a beach up north. It will be warm and chill, which is what i think I need. And in all honesty I'm a liitle excited to come back to sanity. More than anything I'll be happy to feel clean again. To take a shower in warm water on a consistent basis and wash my clothes. Ahhh the luxuries of a non-nomad. Its the little things that you miss the most. 

¡Vimos pingüinos! ¡Y ... Sea lions! (no se cómo se llama en español). Fue mejor que un zoológico

The next morning, oswaldo picked us up as planned. He was quite punctual which was rather Amusing seeing as we are still in Peru. Peruvians are funny like that. They will have no sense of time at all and then suddenly be punctual about certain things starting. But I suppose in that regard they are kind of catering towards the tourist population and I suppose we do expect them to be on time for things like that. We told him that we would not be camping again and he offered to store our bags at his office. Awesome. We were kind of hoping he would do that. The peruvians we have come across are very helpful like that. For example yesterday when we went to get groceries the park ranger guy offered to keep our bags there so we wouldn't have to lug them around. And no dad they aren't out to rob us; I think that they just see a lot of backpackers and are happy to help when they can. 

Now I will say we payed oswaldo for a "tour" and then got in line with a ton of other folks and paid our entrance to the island. I think that we probably could have just gotten in line on our own and bought those entrance tickets. But whatever. We did what everyone does. They go somewhere and pay about 30soles for a tour and then all end up at the dock. And who knows ... Maybe we wouldn't have been able to roll up to the dock solo. And that would have sucked. But anyone going in the future, I would just try rolling up to the blue dock in paracas and see if anyone notices :)

I was slightly disappointed by the tour but I think that's how I am with tours. I feel like if I'm paying for a tour I want it to wow me. Not just feel like I could have read a book and then gone to see on my own and gotten the same effect. Now don't get me wrong, the islands were beautiful. They did not disappoint me. Just the tour was a slight let down. Plus you get on this speed boat filled with about 30 other tourists who are standing and pointing and taking photos...I'm just not a big fan of the tourist style of things. 

The islands were a bird haven. I have never seen so many birds in one location in my life. It was amazing. Now the smell of all the guano these birds produce, not so amazing. The best part was seeing the penguins, just hanging out, in their own home. Now I know everyone loves zoos because you get to see all of these animals that you typically don't get to see, but personally, even though I love the animals, zoos make me a little sad. Those animals should be chilling where they want to be, not captured and thrown into some large cage in the middle of a big US city. Now the endangered ones, slightly different story...but so obviously you can imagine how nice it was for me to be able to enjoy seeing these animals sans cage.  There were also sea lions!! They were just hanging out on rocks as if they were saying "what's up guys? Having a good day. Oh you're going to take a picture? Here let me turn to my good side". It was awesome. I think the best part of the boat ride/tour was the ride back. I kept seeing the sea lions swimming in the ocean. The funniest was when you saw them floating on their backs like otters would. Killer I tell you. Killer. 

When we had been camping we bumped into a couple of French girls who were walking around. Very nice folks. But they had told us about a very economical hostel that they were staying at, the maku house. 10 soles. Night per person. So me and Megs definitely were going to check it out. When oswaldo met up up with us again we explained to him where we were going and he graciously walked us over. It was literally across the street. He spoke with the woman in charge and got us settled into our room. Oh oswaldo: such a nice and helpful dude. The hostel was hysterical, ran in your typical Latin American style. There's a guy working on a boat in front; they live behind the communal kitchen; and there 2 year old lumenica is running the show, along with her younger sister, though she's confined to her walker which can't leave the kitchen.  But they were extremely nice, no hot water but it wasn't quite freezing, and it's 10 soles; that is like $3 a person....can't really complain for that price. 

Our time in paracas seemed like it dragged on forever. There is nothing there. Though we did stumble upon this really cool woodcarver artisan. He was super nice and made everything by hand. And he had a story for every piece he made. I bought his awesome metal cuff with a large spider line drawing etched into it and he told me this whole tale of he significance of he spider. Now you have to admit, that kind of guy is worth spending you're money on. I have tried to make it a point only to buy handcrafts from those that I actually see making them. It's kind of tough. A lot of the stands are just your typical tourist crap. Paracas was what Meg and I liked to call the wings of Peru. :) but not our guy. He was pretty awesome. 

Acampando en la reserva: una reserva sin alguien

After our dune buggy adventure our new friend returned to Lima, while we got tickets to continue on the paracas. Paracas is a beach town with a natural reserve to the south and the ballestas islands not far from it's coast. When we arrived we realized that's it. There's nothing else. We had planned on going to the reserve Sunday afternoon, camping that night, going on the island tour Monday morning, returning to the reserve Monday night to camp, and then departing to Lima. After arrival our plans definitely changed. 

So we get into paracas and first thing, buy departure tickets. No reason to wait and we are already at the station. Plus depending on the time that the bus leaves will affect our days. We have to catch the bus in the morning ( we were hoping for a very early afternoon like 1...oh well) at 11 on Tuesday. So now it has been settled. We have to do the islands tour on Monday morning. They don't get back until sometime after 10 and that would possibly make the bus ride a little rush...besides....what else are we gonna do. So tickets purchased, off we walk towards the reserve. We figure we will walk to town, grab a bite to eat (Ceviche!!!), grab some food for camp, and then walk to the reserve. Were nearing town and decide to stop into a tourist info booth to ask about the reserve and possibly grab a map. Oh and ask about an ATM. We have mentioned camping to a few people and had gotten mixed info. "oh it's beautiful and safe" "it's very dangerous" " the beat place to camp is right in town, not on the reserva" " no one camps on the reserva" but both of our books said it was a great experience and that it was secure. So the woman at the booth said she wasn't sure but she didn't think camping was allowed. And she didn't have a map we could take but we just stayed on this road to get there but it was very far like 3km....wait that's not even 2 miles .... Oh well be fine. No sense in paying for a cab. She points us towards an ATM as well. We walk through town and after some questionable food decide to go the ATM and then just walk to the reserve to find out what's going on. We didn't want to buy a bunch of food and then get all the way down there to find out that we can't camp. 

The first ATM building is closed, so we inquire about another. They point us further down the road to hotel paracas. Off we go. We walk down this side road for a bit, and we come across this barricaded white stone structure: hotel paracas. What the?? Where's the ATM?? So I walk inside the gate and head towards the three guards in front of the front door. All I have to say is disculpa and the one younger guard says in perfect English ATM? Awesome. It is that obvious we are so not guests. He leads us to there "business center" outfitted with computers, fax and copy machines, and free coffee. Oh and an ATM machine in the corner. Meg and I both use it and are just finishing up when the guy comes back in as if he was making sure we weren't helping ourselves to the coffee :) which I did consider. We thank him and leave. On our way out we stop at the other guards box and make sure we are going the right way. Oh yea just stay on this road for about another 3km and you'll see it. Wait .... 3km?? I swear weve already walked one or two ... Peruvians And their lack of sense of time and distance. 

So after what seems like forever we arrive at the backside of the guard station. The guys comes out and we talk to him for a bit. He says it's totally straight to camp and that there is a safe spot about 10km in. Seriously??! I'm so not walking that. We ask about cabs coming in and out. He offers to call us one that can take us back to town for food and then will take us to the beach. Thus we meet oswaldo. 

Oswaldo was awesome. And hysterical just like every other Peruvian we have met. He takes us to a little hut of a shop to grab groceries. We go in and are trying to hurry because we don't want to make home wait too long. We pay and rush out to find the car empty. We look around. Oh there's oswaldo in the store watching the soccer game. When he notices us he jumps up and rushes back. Guess he didnt expect or probably want us to hurry. We ask him if there's a way for us to buy tickets to do the island tour in the morning. "Claro. I also arrange those tours." Peruvians and their multi tasking ways. Love it. He takes us over to his office to buy tickets. He also tells us he'll come by the campsite in the am to pick us up. Fabulous. Transportation did wind up being a little costly, but he was awesome....and in Peru, costly is like $10 a person. So we were set. We were ready to go to a desolate beach and camp. 

Oswaldo drove us back to the beach so we could camp. We enter the reserve and the guard post is pretty much the last thing you see. Then it is just sand, some water, and maybe a boat or 2 for miles.  He drives us down to where we should camp, near another guard house and asks if we want to stop now or drive on to lagunillas. Lagunillas is supposed to be a little port of a town on the reserve where theres a few restaurants. Well I guess my head is still not Peru ready, b ecause when reading about it, it sounds like this little tourist escape. A spot that tourists frequent to eat and hang. Ummmm no. That is far from it. There are literally 3-4 little seafood shacks that obviously are there to feed the fisherman and cab drivers. Not a spot where you'd find a tourist anywhere. So after originally departing in lagunillas and saying goodbye to oswaldo we begin our trek back towards our campsite. We thought about maybe hanging there for a second but people kept wanting to helps us with our bags and were asking if we were camping. It was odd. So we just left. 

Setting up camp was a little interesting to say the least. There are super crazy winds in the afternoon so that probably says enough on it's own. To further that I couldn't get the stakes to hold in the sand at all. Not something I had considered when we originally talked about camping on the beach. Luckily 1. My tent is freestanding and 2. There were lots of rocks of different sizes laying around. 
Even though we could have just set up the tents with one of our packs inside if it and it would have been fine, we wanted the fly for insulation. The sun was up and I was already getting cold; there was no telling what it would be like at 2 am. So we placed the tent over and kept it down via rocks. The pictures are hysterical. But it worked. 

That night neither of us slept well. The beach was deserted. So we shouldn't have heard anything, but thats the creepy thing about deserted areas: if you do hear something, you're just that more freaked out. The ocean and wind were bad enough, but then I heard cars quite a bit which made me uneasy seeing as the reserve was supposed to close down and be totally secure by 7 pm. Plus we saw some flashlight, which were probably just the fisherman down the way, but still, nome of this amounted to a ton of sleep. When we both got up the next morning we had already made the decision without saying a word to each other that we would be staying in a hostel that night. 

~la gringuita

Dune buggies: more fun than a roller coaster / Sandboarding: way harder than snowboarding

So the following morning in huacachina, Megs and I decided to go for the buggy tour. It was kind of expensive for us, but it was something that everyone had been telling me I had to do. Plus I had been looking into trying my hand at sandboarding. And unless I wanted to walk up these dunes, which when you see the photos you will understand why I did not, the only option was the buggy. 

What cracked me up was our hostel dudes lax attitude towards arrival and departure at his hostel. it was great. After breakfast we left to return to the room to pack up our things. Check out was at noon, so we were going to need to have our things out and stored before the buggy ride ... Or so we thought. We come out of the room with our packs on our backs and the guy is shouting at us. "the buggy's waiting. Get in the buggy." plus mind you he is speaking in English but with a very strong accent, so every time he says buggy it actually sounds like boogy, which makes me chuckle. So anyhow we lug our packs explaining we just want to check out and he responds with "no no you don't need to check out. I just want you to pay me and get in the buggy. Keep the room. You come back and shower, feel clean. Just get in the buggy". Ok so it doesn't sound that funny on paper but really it was quite hysterical. 

So in the buggy you have our driver smiley and his tío, 2french girls and this other dude who was rather quiet the whole time. Smiley was an absolute trip. In buggies you are supposed to have a harness seatbelt, almost like a kid has on his cArseat And it's very important you wear them because otherwise you may fly out. Oh but not smiley. Oh no he's a professional. So were going over these insane dunes and he would floor it before a very steep one and then just laugh at us as we laughed and screamed. Apparently his uncle kept telling him that he was going to fast.  :) it kind of reminded me of a roller coaster but I'm not a huge fAn of roller coasters and I think I have realized why. In a buggy you are bouncing all over the place at high speeds ready to fly out of your seat but you're grounded and there is someone there comtrolling it. Its like I gunk that a rolercoaster is going to lose sense of the rail and fly off. But yes if you ever are in the ica area, most definitely do the buggies. 

Sandboarding although fun was quite difficult. Originally we just went on our stomachs which was like sledding. Then I tried swapping to feet. At first it seemed like snowboarding, but sand has a different consistency than snow and it adds an interesting twist. Sand is soft but heavy. So if you try to carve at all the board will dig in slightly but he weight of the sand will slow it down and pretty much stop it. Plus we were really just riding on waxed pieces of plywood with Velcro for straps, so that didn't help either. I went down a couple of times, and then wiped out...hard. My neck had whiplash soreness for days after popping back so hard. I got up and tried again but was still a bit woozy and fell on my face again, not as Badly as before but still not in an exactly graceful manner. At this point I was done. likely it was our last run. I got back in the buggy, bounced back to the lagoon, and found sand in everything for days. 

Berto y las bodegas: la aventura sigue

So after checking in at the hostel in huacachina, we spent the morning with Sian getting coffee, wandering around and getting to know each other. The director at the hostel offered both vineyard and buggy/sandboarding tours so we were all kind of debating that. Upon inquiry we learned that the bodega tours can be done whenever and usually take around 4 hours. The buggys were set times and run 3 times a day.  We decided to start off with the vineyard tour and then move to the buggies after. So we pay the guy and tell him well be back about 1:30. When we arrive back there was berto our fearless wine tour dude ready to roll. Oh berto...I really do wish I had a video of you. Words just don't give you the same effect. 

1st let's start by saying that I think berto was actually meant to be paparazzi or has had a life long dream of this. Everywhere we went he wanted to take photos of us. He would even throw us into candids. It was a riot. None of us could keep from laughing. So the first bodega we went to was "el museo". It was this smAller style bodega with just a bunch of random shit. There were telephones and random weird instruments. It was like walking through an antique sore that just happened to make wine. All of perus wines are also VERY VERY sweet. He kept wanting to give us more tastes at this place and we all just kept thinking that it was too sweet to drink a bunch of. Apparently, according to the guy at the second bodega, the wine is sweet due to all of the sun. He grapes become almost overly ripe and produce a ton of natural sugar. Now if we had gone to one of the machine produced bodegas, we would have found what I consider more standard style wines. But these were the artisans. They didn't take any shortcuts. At the second bodega, a guy who worked there gave us the tour. He showed us the old setup where they still mash the grapes with their feet (sAnitized of course and while drinking something similar to red bull b/c it's done at night). And where it is filtered and how pisco (perus version of tequila) is separated. After the tour we went though the tasting and here they also make chocolates and jams with their grapes. That was my favorite part. Their chocolates were to die for. We ended at a 3rd bodega where we only tasted a few and left. Though I couldn't bring myself to buy any of the wines, I did buy a couple of bottles of pisco. Well have to try making some pisco sours when I return :)

Ica/huacachina: bodegas, buggies, a brit and a whole lotta sand

So off we went to ica. What was in ica, we weren't too sure. Though we knew it was close to huacachina which is pretty much a lagoon town surrounded by sand dunes. Oh and ica is known for it's wineries. Sounds good enough for us. So sitting behind and across the aisle was a girl probably in her mid-20s. We talked for a short moment on the bus, but seeing as it was an overnight expedition, it ended as quickly as it had begun. The trip was decent enough. They tried to feed us again; though the meal was a questionable meat-infested disaster. We arrive in ica, which is like the size of a quarter that morning about 9. Getting off the English girl from earlier asks where we are headed. When we realize that we are all heading the same direction, we split a cab in order to save funds. Awesome!  We part ways (initially) in huacachina. Sian (pronounced Sean) headed towards a hostel and Megs and I went to scout out a place where we though we could camp. 

We have been wanting to camp and we read that there were a couple of hostels with attached campgrounds in huacAchina. Cool enough, thinking that I won't have lugged this tent around for nothing. We had read about one called the huacachinero. We had passed it on our way, so Megs and I backtracked down the road to find it. Upon arrival, it looked way too nice. Perhaps it's just the outside appearance or maybe they just have a campground round back?? Were trying to stay optimistic here. I went in and asked at the reservation desk. The lady pretty much laughed in my face and said no. Isnt there a Chinese proverb that goes something along the lines of "one who asks a stupid question is a fool for 5 minutes, one who does not is a fool forever" ? Maybe someone should teach her that. Anyway, a couple doors down there is a place that advertises camping. So we roll in just to check it out. 

Upon arrival, the guy was struggling to open the front gate. An older passerby actually had to climb over the gate in order to break it open. This should have been the first sign that it was a bad idea. He leads us inside and kind of rushes us out back. I think the front door still had his panties in a twist. We walk up to where he says there is camping and it's in the middle of this shit hole. I mean not actually shit, but just junk EVERYWHERE. No other tents and hardly any flat land on which you could even pitch a tent. What the!?? So Meg drops her pack in hopes to find a quick bathroom. We've already talked about how we may want to reconsider where we are staying. About maybe 1 minute Later meg returns with a quick step, throws her pack on her back, looks at me and says that was gross. The floor was covered in mus and...well I couldn't even bring myself to use the it if that gives you any idea of how bad it is. So that was that. We walk back inside and I tell the guy were going to talk over breakfast and well let him know. 15 soles for the "campsite" for the night. He's not happy that we are leaving. And actually the anger that showed in his face just added to the reasons as to why we wouldn't be staying there. 

Walking back down the road, We come to the agreement that we should just stay at a hostel b/c if nothing else the sand dunes would make it difficult to find a flat surface in general. Suddenly we see sian. She had popped her head out of the courtyard of a hostel and invited us to share a room with her. It was going to be more expensive than the campsite, but really...there was no way we were going back there. So there we were, in the middle of sand dunes about to share a room with a girl we had known for all of 20 minutes. Sounds pretty killer if you ask me :)

I think that is one thing I have learned to love on this expedition. So many others travelers roam solo or with just a partner, and for the most part, they love meeting others. Its a very open and inviting community. For example, last night, the frenchies from my dorm invited me in there broken English to dinner with them. They didn't know my name, barely spoke any English or Spanish, but figured they should invite me because ... Well ... Why wouldnt you?  I love the bond that the nomad community has. 

La compañía de bus Flores: nunca más

So after our adventure to colca canyon, we stayed one more night in Arequipa. La doña, though I think a little confused, was happy to have us back. We had booked a night bus to ica that left at 6:30 , so we spent the day wandering and holing up places to use their wi-fi. 

About 5:30 we head back to the hostel to grab our packs and catch a taxi to the Flores private bus station. That in itself should have told us it was a bad idea. Upon arrival I show the woman our tickets and ask her if we need to check our bags at all. She looks at me as if I'm not right and says no we just wait and watch for our bus. So we sit directly in front of the  window where we can see all of them come in. They call for buses over the PA, but it's somewhat sporadic to say the least. And it seems like the bulk of them are late. They would constantly be calling a bus 15 minutes behind. So we are sitting watching for buses and it's almost 6:30 now. Not a single bus that says ica on the front and not a single announcement for ica or for a 6:30 bus. Finally at about 6:50 I go back to the lady to inquire where our bus is. "se fue" she says with kind of a why-the-f-are-u-bugging-me-again look. I'm shocked and start to argue with her and ask her why we didn't hear it or why we didn't see it. We've been sitting there for the past hour watching for it and none of them said ica. Oh because the bus is actually to lim, it just makes a stop in ica. when I, in a kind of frustrated and rude manner, asked her how I was supposed to know that when it says ica on the tickets, she quickly just jumped to having a solution for us. We could pay 5 more soles and she would adjust the ticket so we could leave shortly. At this point it's 7 and she begins filling out a bus ticket for 6:50. What?? I point it out and she just keeps reassuring me that it hasn't arrived. I take my tickets and sit down, now a flipping 10 soles poorer. 

We are supposed to be looking for busses that go to Lima and are arriving from puno. We don't see any for a while. When we finally spot one at 7:20, but with the wrong te on the window, I go back to counter and ask if that is the correct bus. No. We sit there until about 7:30/40, and I finally look at Megs and tell her that we need to go catch a different bus.  This is ridiculous; they don't know whats going on, most of their busses are late, and if we don't move soon, we are going to miss any chance we have of getting to ica that night. 

Packs back on, unused tickets shoved in our pockets, we hail a cab down the street to the bus station to buy new tickets at Cruz del sur. They'll make sure you don't miss your bus If you're waiting right there for it. 

We get there and purchase 2 fresh tickets. 65 soles a piece. So now in order to get to ica we have spent a total of 110 soles a piece. Fantastic! 

The bus that we got tickets for doesnt leave until 9:30. It's 7:30. So what do we do? We go in search of food of course!! This trip has consisted of bus rides, wandering aimlessly and a lot of eating. So we hobble down to this little restaurant hidden in a bit of a nook of the bus station. We notice they have sandwiches and beer. Thats good enough for us. We order 2 beers from a girl and she asks of we'd like bottles or cans. She can't be more than 18. We tell her cans are fine and she runs off, Out towards the bus station without a word, her 4 year old daughter/sister/random vagrant trailing behind her. She returns about 5 minutes later. She holds up 2 different cans "¿cristal o cusqueña?". She puts down The can of cusqueña in front of Megs. Please dont tell me she has to run off to Get my beer. Oh no; the kid comes from behind her and puts the can face down in front of me. Gotta love the 5 yr old bartender. 

We finished our beers and sandwiches, paid our tab, and headed to check in with Cruz del sur. They put us in a wait room and came around to let us know the bus had arrived. On the bus, seats reclined, ready to sleep through the night, off we went on our way to ica. 

Colca canyon: el razón que Megs no irá otro paseo nunca más :)

So the original thought was go to Arequipa so that we could get out and hike in colca canyon, the 2nd deepest canyon in the world. We figured we could just catch a bus to the canyon, hike down, camp, hike back out the next morning, and catch a bus back to Arequipa. Sounds easy enough,, right??

María la doña actually got us what we thought was a really good deal. She knew someone that ran a colectivo to the canyon. Awesome! BUT it will arrive between 3 and 3:30 in the morning. Yikes! But it's all good. It's about a 5-6 hour ride to the canyon and a 3 hour hike; so it would give us time to get down, set up base, and play around. We were down. We get our packs together that night, eat an early dinner complete with wine to help us pass out early, and are in bed by 8:30. We are both up by 2:40 and ready when the bus arrives at 3:10. On our way. 

We make a few more stops and the van is now full with 12 foreigners. When everyone is settled in, the woman in chArge calls our attention to explain a few things. Turns out were on a tour van but we are "solo transporta". She keeps saying this as if we are going to forget. We also stop for breakfast which was not expected, but gladly accepted. 

We arrive at cruz del cóndor at about 8:45. We quietly bid farewell to our tour group, load our packs on our backs and off we head on the only marked trail. Starting off we are questioning the trail because it seems like it is going up for one, and it seems like it's just following the road. But Meg continues saying that it's a well marked trail and this is the only trail; so I'm in total agreement. About an hour in we look a ways down the path. Were in the desert and a little elevated, so its clear where it goes. There's a parking lot ... and that is where it ends. Crap!! You've got to be kidding me. I've lugged this heavy-ass pack around for the past hour going nowhere?? Alright time to turn around. 

We backtrack to the Cruz. On the way we bump into a samll group with a local who seems like he may be the guide. Meghan goes up to him to inquire about the descent trail. He gives us his map and shows us where we need to be going. Right on. Map in hand and we are good to go! Or so we thought...

According to the map, we pass the Cruz a little ways and then the trail will be descending down the right. Cool. Pass the Cruz, no trail. We continue along the side of the road, which in Peru is not exactly the safest thing to do here, for about 20-30 minutes. We still can't find this trail. This is ridiculous. we walk back and SCOUR the area for the trail. It doesn't exist. It can't. There's nothing. So now at roughly 12:30 we are tired, hungry, and pissed. We sit up at the Cruz with the intention of grabbing a ride with the next bus/colectivo. We start having lunch and an older Peruvian, very traditional Peruvian, lady yells bus at us. We stand up and look; there's a group of folks standing on the side of the road hailing down this bus. Ummm...it's kind of crowded and another 14 folks are getting on....well just wait. Plus the books made it seem like smaller buses come to collect folks all the time, like they do at machu picchu. I'm still pretty positive that is not the case. The bus leaves and we are literally the only folks at the canyon. There is NO ONE and NOTHINGu around us. 

An hour passes. No sign of a car, bus, or anyone.  At this point, I've told Meghan if we don't have anyone come by in a bit, we are setting camp in the parking lot. 

Luckily a few minutes later another bus comes by. We flag it down, but not in the smooth manner that the locals do it; more just like a couple of crazy gringos stranded on the side of the road. The bus is already full, so we stand towards the back knowing that the ride to chivay is 2 hrs on a dirt road. At this point, I know we looked like we were crazy. We smell, were a wreck, and now we are standing on a bus intending for sitting down. As we drive on, people continue to flag down the bus ( in a much less spastic manner though, mind you ) and they keep letting them on. Everyone keeps standing and in about 40 minutes the aisle is packed.

We get to chivay finally. We book a 4 o'clock bus on "el rey latino" to Arequipa which should put us there around 7. Good deal. We probably won't be able to leave for ica that same night but we were just happy to be heading back to Arequipa. 

While we were waiting for our bus a fight broke out. But in all honestly it was actually just quite comical. It was between a teller and another woman. All of a sudden Megs and I hear screaming. We turn around to find the teller with her hand out the window (through the little hole in the bottom where you hand money) grabbing at the other woman's hair and cursing at her in Spanish. Someone calls policía who comes over but has this expression of "you gotta be kidding me. I can't use my gun here".
I think it's time to wait outside. 

-la gringuita 

Arequipa: la ciudad que nos ayuda lo más

We arrived to Arequipa monday evening, tired, hungry, and very cranky. As we got off the bus at the terminal the Brits asked us where we were staying. When we told them we weren't sure; we still had to find a hostel. They looked at us in a very puzzled manner and wished us luck. So ends our ride with the Brits....or so we thought. 

The taxi situation is a little interesting in Arequipa. I suppose in the past, they have had issues with it. So the police are all outside , watching the cab drivers and talking to them occasionally. We go to get in the cab and the police is talking to the driver. She takes down some info and tells us to get in. I've noticed throughout the city that they pride themselves I their tourism and keeping their tourists safe; so I suppose it's just one more method of them keeping us safe. Right on. 

So as I have said earlier, crepes/panqueques are big here. And of course Meg and I have located the panquequería in town. We throw our packs to the side and sit down, ready for some dinner panqueques. As good as they were, they weren't that filling. But that's alright because they have desert crepes :) after one of those each, we just want a bed. I had found a hostel with dorm rooms for only 15 soles a night, so we head in that direction. I know the address and according to "the moon" there was another inn right beside it. So we head towards that hotel and figure well just find it along the way. We found the other hotel, and a llama chilling in the park, but no Posada de Virrey. The bellhop from the other hotel stops us and asks us where we are trying to go. Turns out we are at 101 bolognesi and we want 103 puente Grau... We are actually in the 500 block, not the 100. Well crap. Guess well start walking. The bellhop was impressed with my Spanish though :)

We finally make it to the hostel and check into our dorm. It seems nice enough, especially for $5 a night. La doña is a little pushy but in a helpful way. AND there's HOT WATER!!! that's a huge rarity in Peru. Up to this point I had attempted to take 2 showers, both of which were cold rinses. So when I figured out the shower and actually got hot water ..... Oh you can't even believe how great that felt. Plus we were sharing the dorm with another guy from Oregon, Nathan, and he filed us in on where to do our laundry. Laundry and hot water?? I must be dreaming.  

The next morning we head out, laundry in tow, ready for clean clothes and coffee. Oh clean clothes, it will be such a treat. 1st time the whole trip! We drop them off with this sweet little lady who has her kids playing in the back. 5 kilos of clothing...15 soles. No worries. Well be back at 5. 

We walk towards la plaza de armas. Arequipa is shockingly a very clean city and their is a lack of ferrel dogs and cats, which is a kind of a nice change. Their plaza de armas definitely benefits from the tourism. The volcanoes and mountains provide the background for the plazas and restaurants flood the second floor balconies of the buildings surrounding the plaza. We had breakfast and proved to be the ultimate tourists by taking some photos of the mtn surrounded cathedral. 

What I haven't seen in other cities but I found here was when shopping, they follow you. And when I say follow, I don't mean move from room to room as you move, I mean on your ass with every move ... Almost as if I stopped quick, they would bump into me. I suppose it's there anti-theft method, but instead it just caused Megs and I to leave. I don't like the hovering feeling. 

Anotare thing which i really enjoy is the amount of NGOs in Peru. A few times I have found cafés who actually give 100% of their profits to their sister organization. They usually deal with public health issues and abuse towards woman and children. We have been making it a point to support them whenever we can. I'd very much like to return to Peru and volunteer with some of these organizations ... I've been taking notes :)

So the final amusing thing that happened in Arequipa. We thought we had spotted the Brits when we were having breakfast. But we werent entirely sure. However it was one of those huge double decker busses filled with older tourists so...we were pretty sure. When we went to pick up our laundry, it wasn't quite ready; she was still ironing and folding it ... I mean really lady, have you seen us?? Anyhow, I stood there for a few minute playing barco vs. moto with her son. Suddenly we hear "getting all cleaned up are we?"   Meg and I turn around to see 2 of our British friends. We joked with them for a minute. "Have you gotten your manicure a pedicure? Your toes look clean." they were such a trip. Oh the folks you meet when traveling. 

-la gringuita

Arequipa: la ciudad que nos ayuda lo más

We arrived to Arequipa monday evening, tired, hungry, and very cranky. As we got off the bus at the terminal the Brits asked us where we were staying. When we told them we weren't sure; we still had to find a hostel. They looked at us in a very puzzled manner and wished us luck. So ends our ride with the Brits....or so we thought. 

The taxi situation is a little interesting in Arequipa. I suppose in the past, they have had issues with it. So the police are all outside , watching the cab drivers and talking to them occasionally. We go to get in the cab and the police is talking to the driver. She takes down some info and tells us to get in. I've noticed throughout the city that they pride themselves I their tourism and keeping their tourists safe; so I suppose it's just one more method of them keeping us safe. Right on. 

So as I have said earlier, crepes/panqueques are big here. And of course Meg and I have located the panquequería in town. We throw our packs to the side and sit down, ready for some dinner panqueques. As good as they were, they weren't that filling. But that's alright because they have desert crepes :) after one of those each, we just want a bed. I had found a hostel with dorm rooms for only 15 soles a night, so we head in that direction. I know the address and according to "the moon" there was another inn right beside it. So we head towards that hotel and figure well just find it along the way. We found the other hotel, and a llama chilling in the park, but no Posada de Virrey. The bellhop from the other hotel stops us and asks us where we are trying to go. Turns out we are at 101 bolognesi and we want 103 puente Grau... We are actually in the 500 block, not the 100. Well crap. Guess well start walking. The bellhop was impressed with my Spanish though :)

We finally make it to the hostel and check into our dorm. It seems nice enough, especially for $5 a night. La doña is a little pushy but in a helpful way. AND there's HOT WATER!!! that's a huge rarity in Peru. Up to this point I had attempted to take 2 showers, both of which were cold rinses. So when I figured out the shower and actually got hot water ..... Oh you can't even believe how great that felt. Plus we were sharing the dorm with another guy from Oregon, Nathan, and he filed us in on where to do our laundry. Laundry and hot water?? I must be dreaming.  

The next morning we head out, laundry in tow, ready for clean clothes and coffee. Oh clean clothes, it will be such a treat. 1st time the whole trip! We drop them off with this sweet little lady who has her kids playing in the back. 5 kilos of clothing...15 soles. No worries. Well be back at 5. 

We walk towards la plaza de armas. Arequipa is shockingly a very clean city and their is a lack of ferrel dogs and cats, which is a kind of a nice change. Their plaza de armas definitely benefits from the tourism. The volcanoes and mountains provide the background for the plazas and restaurants flood the second floor balconies of the buildings surrounding the plaza. We had breakfast and proved to be the ultimate tourists by taking some photos of the mtn surrounded cathedral. 

What I haven't seen in other cities but I found here was when shopping, they follow you. And when I say follow, I don't mean move from room to room as you move, I mean on your ass with every move ... Almost as if I stopped quick, they would bump into me. I suppose it's there anti-theft method, but instead it just caused Megs and I to leave. I don't like the hovering feeling. 

Anotare thing which i really enjoy is the amount of NGOs in Peru. A few times I have found cafés who actually give 100% of their profits to their sister organization. They usually deal with public health issues and abuse towards woman and children. We have been making it a point to support them whenever we can. I'd very much like to return to Peru and volunteer with some of these organizations ... I've been taking notes :)

So the final amusing thing that happened in Arequipa. We thought we had spotted the Brits when we were having breakfast. But we werent entirely sure. However it was one of those huge double decker busses filled with older tourists so...we were pretty sure. When we went to pick up our laundry, it wasn't quite ready; she was still ironing and folding it ... I mean really lady, have you seen us?? Anyhow, I stood there for a few minute playing barco vs. moto with her son. Suddenly we hear "getting all cleaned up are we?"   Meg and I turn around to see 2 of our British friends. We joked with them for a minute. "Have you gotten your manicure a pedicure? Your toes look clean." they were such a trip. Oh the folks you meet when traveling. 

-la gringuita