The Lost City

Colombia has a reputation. So much so that I didn't tell my mother I was heading there until after I had been in the country for some time... she worries enough as it is. Travelers who ignore the warnings and head to Colombia to explore are generally grateful for the widespread rumors that it is too dangerous or unsafe for foreigners because it means there are less tourists getting in the way - and I'm no exception.

We arrived in rainy Bogota without money or a clue but the beautiful green mountains took my breath away and I knew I'd fallen in love, again. Asking around for the best place to stay we finally found our way to an artsy neighborhood in the city called the Candelaria and a small hostel where only artisans and street performers are welcome. Despite the chilly weather and no hot water in the house, the owner was welcoming and helpful and gave us a room at a fair price. The day after we arrived Eleise flew in to join us. She started learning how to make jewelry right away so she could fund her trip and sell with us. The only problem was - we couldn't sell ANYTHING. Arturo and I would walk the streets all day long and we couldn't sell even the smallest bracelet or simplest pair of earrings. It was tough. Tough on our spirits, tough emotionally, and mostly tough on our relationship. I was getting worn out, tired of not knowing how we would pay for a place to stay one day to the next or where we would get food from, and depressed at being in such an amazing place and not being able to enjoy it because I was working all day every day. It was nice to have Eleise there and she even lent us money so we could all get on the road to our next destination.

Eleise only had come for two months to travel before heading back to Australia. I, with everything as stressful as it was, decided I wanted to head back to the US for the summer and work to save up a little money before returning to South America to travel more. We decided to use the two months we had to travel quickly south through Colombia, Ecuador and along the northern coast of Peru to make it to a big festival in Cusco in June. Our first stop was a tiny pueblo called San Agustin that was recommended by some friends. We got there in time to celebrate Eleise's birthday at the end of April, unfortunately in such a small town there wasn't much of a selection of places to party and we ended up at our hotel with a bottle of rum for Eleise to tackle alone. We took a day to hike and explore the surrounding area, but were forced to leave quickly... with no tourists around there is no one to sell to.

We took a bus to Cali, 'The Capital of Salsa', the next largest city on our way south. After searching for hours we found a cheap, and rather disgusting, hotel near the main square. Luckily here, we were able to sell a bit on the streets. The police wouldn't allow us to put anything on the ground, but we walked around with bracelets and earrings and were able to pay for food and a place to stay. At night we would walk to the side of town where all the bars and clubs are and sell in front of a little restaurant where no one gave us any trouble. Now and then we would even be offered leftovers by the people eating outside. After a week or so in Cali, we made friends with a couple of artisans who rented us a room in their home. It was a little ways out of the city but was a really nice place. They often made food for us and we were more than happy to get out of the dingy, flea ridden place we were in. When we had earned enough for the a bus ticket and had thoroughly overstayed our welcome we said our goodbyes and took a long bus ride across the southern border and all the way to Quito, the capital of Ecuador.

I didn't know what to expect of Ecuador and was therefore pleasantly surprised by the capital city. It has almost a colonial European style, it was clean and cute and - finally a break - less expensive than Colombia. It was also strange to be using American money. There, a dime is actually worth something - we would haggle with strangers over a nickel, and keep track amongst each other who owed who how many pennies! We had a lot of fun in the touristic part of town where all the bars and restaurant are and were able to make a little money even. Since time was running out quickly however we couldn't stay as long as we would have liked and we took another overnight bus to the border where we dealt with customs and visas to get into Peru again, then went to Mancora.
Since first arriving in Peru months earlier, Arturo and I had been hearing about Mancora. We were told it was great place to party and an even better place to sell. We arrived at low season and were able to find a cheap hostel that had private bungalows with clean beds, free internet and use of a kitchen. The one downside were the mosquitoes so we lathered on the bug spray and rigged our mosquito nets above the beds. All along the main road in Mancora there are bamboo stands set up year round. During the low season, the permanent vendors hit the road and those of us traveling are able to set up and sell without fear of being kicked out or fined. Yes, there were fewer tourists - but there were still tourists. We quickly made enough money to pay back Eleise what we owed her and were able to live more than comfortably in the small beach community. We found a great little restaurant around the corner from the hostel called Larry's and we ate there every single night for the two weeks we stayed in Mancora; needless to say we got to know Larry very well, and I doubt very much that anyone in the world can make better ceviche or chaufa than he can. We all probably would have been happy to sit in the sun on a beautiful beach, relax, eat well and sleep well there in Mancora for several more weeks, but there was more to see before our flights left from Lima. So we hit the road and went to Trujillo.

We got to Trujillo in the evening, found a cheap hotel and a cheap meal and slept like babies. In the morning we went to explore and when we got to the Plaza de Armas, or main square, there were hundreds of people in preparation for a Corpus Christi celebration. Each group was forming colored sawdust into huge, unique pictures on the asphalt all the way around the square. There was a large stage on one side with a lot of flowers and decorations all around it. In the evening, thousands gathered for mass before important members of the Catholic church carried something representing the body of Christ around the circle destroying all of the carefully constructed drawings of sawdust. It was interesting to say the least. We stayed in Trujillo for a couple of days, and unable so sell anything went to the nearby beach Huanchaco. There we found a nice place to stay with television and everything for very cheap. We were comfortable, but since winter was coming there were few visitors to the beach and once again we had a difficult time selling anything. So, we left quickly and went straight to Lima.



For the third time in six months, we stayed in the same hotel in Barranco that rents by the hour, and sold on the same steps to the bridge. We stayed a few days then took another nightmare bus ride to Cusco via Arequipa, this one only took us about 25 hours... We rented a room near San Blas with the same family we had stayed with the time before. The next day, after much debate, Arturo decided to stay behind and sell while Eleise and I took a trip to Machu Picchu.

After a stop at the market, a few wrong turns and a five hour wait, we boarded a bus at 8 pm and arrived in Santa Teresa at 3 am. Wide awake with the excitement of the trip but not having slept at all, we used the 'Public Bathrooms' (or holes in the dirt) and ate the rest of our candy (the only food we had thought to bring) while we waited for a conbi to come that we could take for the next leg of the trip. There were very few people but we made friends with a very nice Colombian guy who was planning on taking the same cheap route that we were. When it finally showed up, the driver tried to charge us double the price we knew it should be and we stood our ground for two and half hours before he lowered the price 3 sols (about 97cents US) and we happily boarded the taxi van. We arrived in Santa Maria around 6:30 am just as the sun was rising over the hills. The Colombian asked to join us on our trek and we agreed. He was good company and had a camera - mine sadly had stopped working two days prior. We ate arroz ala cubana at the market and took another conbi to the Hidroelectrica to start our walk along the railroad tracks to get to Aguas Calientes at the base of the mountain that hides Machu Picchu on her peak.

We set off at a good pace through the gorgeous valley, winding along the river and taking our time. When the sun was stronger we stopped to play in the cold water and on the giant boulders of granite. We didn't stay too long however because we were soon aware that we were being attacked by tiny red and yellow biting bugs. At first they didn't hurt, they were just annoying and left a small spot of blood on our skin, but nothing more. So we continued on our, what should have been, three hour hike - moving slower and slower as our lack of sleep caught up to us.

We got to Aguas Calientes as the sun was disappearing behind the mountain. We plopped down on a bench on the edge of town and I wished aloud that someone would walk by and tell us to follow them to the cheapest hostel in town. Just then, a younger guy walking by stopped and told us that he's the owner of the cheapest hostel in town and if we needed a place to stay he'd be happy to take us. By this time the bug bites were unbearably itchy and tiredness had overtaken us, so we dragged ourselves up the hill to his hostel and gratefully rented rooms. After casually mentioning to the owner that I am an artisan, he smiled and without thinking twice or asking if I wanted it, he pulled a bundle of weed out of his pocket and passed me a handful saying 'oh, here then, take this...'. Not wanting to seem ungrateful I pocketed it to give to Arturo later on.

Eleise and I took a nap, later got food at the market, then slept again. The tiny drops of blood that the tiny bugs had left had turned into giant, puss/venom-filled bites. My legs from the knees down were swollen to the size of my thighs. Eleise's were the same. They were lumpy and sore and we could hardly walk. Nevertheless, we left the hostel at 3 am with the Colombian, a small bottle of water, no food, no camera and a tiny dim flashlight that I happened to have in my bag. We were unprepared to say the least. Halfway up the steep mountain path we encountered another hiker stumbling blindly along that joined our group. It was so dark we couldn't see each others faces but the four of us somehow made our way up the mountain using the tiny bit of light given off by my almost dead flashlight. About 20 minutes from the top the sun was finally giving off enough light to see without it. The Colombian took off at his own pace and the other, more elderly, hiker fell behind. Eleise and I arrived at the gates to the site at about a quarter to six - shortly before Machu Picchu is allowed to have visitors.

We were two of only about six tourists waiting to enter and excited to be there before the crowds would arrive. At exactly five minutes to 6 am, ten buses full of tourists, well fed, well dressed and well rested, showed up to the gates with more buses lining up behind. Talk about disappointment! We had to scramble to get a place near the front of the line. Fortunately we were smart when we entered and headed the opposite direction of all the tourist groups. We lost the crowds and were able to wander around the ruins for several hours before seeing other tourists. It was amazing! We had so much fun making up stories about the Incans that once lived there and what everything was once used for. When we really wanted our questions answered we asked the guards and groundskeepers, or now and then hung around a tour group.

Stupidly we hadn't brought any food with us and had very little money at one of the world's most touristic sites. Kindly, one of the workers told me about a cheap kitchen down the road where all the employees get their meals. We went there for a 5 sol menu. We explored the ruins the entire day, stopping often to sit and relax, enjoy the scenery, laugh at silly tourists or silly llamas, or lament the broken camera. On one such occasion I said to Eli, "I wish someone would walk up to us and say 'Hey, you guys look like you need a camera, would you like to use mine?'" She laughed at me and said that things like that don't happen. Just then, a younger Peruvian guy walked up with his camera and asked if I could take a picture of him and his wife - they were on their honeymoon. I said sure and when I took the camera Eli started laughing hysterically and pointed out that the camera was the same as mine. After the picture we talked to the couple and asked if I could put my memory card in their camera while they took our photo, to at least have something to document our time there. They were more than happy to oblige, and even invited us to tag along and use the camera as often as we like. Eli, things like that DO happen. As the park was closing, and the sun disappeared behind the peaks, we began our hike down the mountain. Despite our empty stomachs and swollen legs we had smiles on our faces and wished for more time in this sacred hidden city.

We reached the bottom an hour and half later and decided to rent the room once more before heading back to Santa Maria and the Hidroelectrico. At 4 am we set off in the dark once again, this time racing the clock to arrive at 7 am for the taxis at the same time as the tourist train. We beat it by a few minutes exhausted and out of breath. The trip back to Cusco was long and short on money we had to beg the bus driver to give us a spot in the aisle for free. We arrived in the evening with one thing on our minds - a hot shower. Back at the house, we waited impatiently for hours before the unreliable water came on. It last 20 minutes and was lukewarm, only enough time for Eleise to clean up a bit. I wasn't so lucky and a few hours later found myself in tears after a huge fight with Arturo at a public bathroom, paying to have a 'guaranteed' hot shower. Two minutes into it and covered in soap the gas ran out and the attendent informed me that there would be no hot water until the next day. I finally found humor in it all and rinsed with ice water. Shivering to death I dressed quickly in clean clothes and ate some food at 9pm for the first time all day.

We stayed in Cusco for a few more days and enjoyed the nightlife. Arturo and I said our tearful goodbyes with promises that I would meet him later in Argentina. Eli and I boarded the cheapest bus we could find and were meant to arrive in Lima 22 hours later. The bus turned out to be the biggest piece of junk I've ever ridden in. No TV was only the start. It smelled awful, the toilet didn't work, there was no heat and and inch of ice lining the inside of the windows, it broke down more times than I care to remember, and of course the next day when the sun finally rose and beat down on us through the windows that wouldn't open - there was no a/c. Needless to say it was quite a ride. We finally made it to Lima many hours later than scheduled and got off on the outskirts of town to catch another bus to Barranco. It was dark out and while standing in an area where there are sure to never be tourists, waiting for the bus, and elderly man and his wife approached us timidly and after staring for quite some time asked "Estan perdidos?" (Are you lost?) We laughed for days about that.

We had three days in Lima before our flights to New York. In preparation for our vacation in the city we scoured boutiques and splurged on the perfect outfits. We hung out with Jonathan and the other local artisans, ate at a great vegetarian restaurant near the center and searched artisan shops for cheap stones. We went to an awesome hip-hop show then wandered the empty streets late at night and watched the ocean from the high cliffs above. Our last day we met up with Joaquin and Marcel for lunch and they helped us with our bags, later we went to Joaquin's and ate dinner with his family. From there we got a taxi to the airport to catch our midnight flight. After some ridiculous problems with the airline and more problems with the bus when we reached New York, 27 hours after leaving Lima, we arrived at our crappy hotel near Times Square in NYC.

Jungle Fever

Thinking back to my time in Iquitos I'm flooded with so many feelings and so much emotion that it's hard to go back to my thoughts and initial impressions of the city those first few hours and days.

Paloma and I headed toward the Malecon, or Boardwalk, on the river. The city was bigger than we had expected and our hostel was at least a 20 minute walk from the water. Since it was mid morning, the heavy jungle air had already settled in for the day and the streets were fairly quiet. The river was massive! We arrived during the wet season - the six months of the year that the river is high and floods the poorer areas of the city. In fact, an entire neighborhood, called Belen, is built so that it will float. Half of the year, the entire population commutes from one floating house to the next, to floating schools and clubs and churches and convenience stores and to dry land when the need arises to venture to other parts of the city, all of this is done in dugout canoes!

While walking along the Boardwalk, Paloma and I happened across two young people who looked like they might be artisans and we stopped to ask where and what time of day the police allowed us to sell. After chatting with them for a while, one of them - an overly eccentric, self proclaimed Peruvian "artisan", who actually never made or sold anything in his life - offered to take us to the biggest and cheapest market in the city so we could pick up a few things. Later, we found out that this came with a price and we were obligated to buy him lunch, however, we were grateful for a guide who knew the area well. I was in desperate need of a new pair of sandals; the Havianas I had been wearing since I bought them a year earlier in Mexico were falling apart and held together with string. While scouring the market we realized that prices in Iquitos were much higher than anywhere else in Peru - in most cases, almost double that of Lima. Our guide pointed out that everything sold there, apart from bananas and sugar cane, has to be shipped in by boat or plane - hence the elevated prices. It was difficult to understand how anyone survived seeing as how I hadn't seen such extreme poverty anywhere else in Peru as I did in Iquitos. Our greedy guide soon became somewhat of a nuisance and we finally got rid of him when Paloma angrily explained that she's not a bank and he'd have to go find some other 'gringas' to beg for money.

Paloma stayed with me for about a week before heading deeper in the jungle to stay with a Shaman. I spent lazy days on the banks of the river with my new jungle friends and evenings on the boardwalk selling to tourists. About a month into my stay in Iquitos Arturo arrived to join me and give our relationship another try. We moved to a lovely hostel half a block from the main square where the house mascots were three talking parrots. Spoiled with free use of a kitchen, clean beds and hammocks to relax in - we stayed at the hostel for another month.

When we finally decided it was time to move on we took another boat ride - except this time it was to Colombia. This boat wasn't as new or big as the one I had arrived on, but we still had a great time. Our friend Rosanna and John had arrived at about the same time Arturo did and they decided to take the boat ride at the same time as us as well as a couple other friends that were heading in the same direction. Arturo and I bought a family sized hammock and hung it alongside the other hundred or so that were already there. Everyone was so packed in that when it was time to eat, the staff brought the plates to us rather than having everyone up at the same time. After four days of battling rain showers, cold night winds, a steady fall of black soot from the boat, small amounts of sketchy food and no place to shower we arrived exhausted at the border where Brazil, Colombia and Peru meet. We nervously smuggled our bags of tiger and snakeskin through customs and began hunting for a cheap hotel in Leticia, Colombia.

Colombia differs from Peru in that there are many more middle class citizens, much like Mexico. This caused a problem for us arriving with money earned in Peru - cheap hotels or hostels were nowhere to be found. In Leticia we struggled to sell our wares with so few tourists and couldn't move on because the only way out was back the way we came, 21 days up the river by boat (a dangerous journey not recommended even for locals), or an $80 plane ride to Bogota. We spent all day every day and late into the night trying to sell something to make ends meet. In the evenings we would walk several miles across the border of Brazil and sell at the restaurants and night clubs to the more wealthy Brazilians with whom we had a hard time communicating. The cheapest hotel we could find was too much to pay and we were lucky to find a woman who rented us a room in her home for a decent price. But even then, just to make money to eat was a chore. After struggling for a few weeks, for the first time in my southern travels, I pulled out the credit card and bought us two flights to Bogota.

Relent to the Beauty

Paloma, Arturo and I boarded the cheapest bus we could find to Lima from Cusco. Rosanna and John, who were planning a two day stop in Ica, had decided to meet us in Iquitos. They left Cusco at the same time we did, boarding a neighboring bus at the station and paying a few Sols more for air conditioning and free meals. After a nightmare bus ride lasting more than 24 hours (thank heaven for my ziplock bag full of Excedrin), the three of us found our way back to Barranco and stumbled to our favored pay-by-the-hour hotel. Upon arriving the receptionist informed us that, due to archaic laws prohibiting it, hotels in Lima could not allow two women or two men to stay in the same bedroom. What?!!! I knew Peru was a little behind on gay rights - but really? This coming from a place that has a bowl of soap and a bowl of condoms sitting on the front desk. Despite our begging, the receptionist wouldn't make an exception. At that point the only thing in the world we wanted was a hot shower and a bed, so Paloma paid extra for her own room. We stayed there for a couple of days but when it got too expensive for Paloma to pay the extra, we all packed up and headed to La Tia Maria's - an unofficial hostel owned by an eccentric elderly woman, with a flare for the dramatic, who wears bright red lipstick and only allows her boarders to call her 'Aunt Maria'; her only employee is her brother Jorge who hasn't seen a sober day in at least 50 years. The house is a three story maze of odd shaped rooms, a top floor kitchen with no roof and two bathrooms that only sometimes spurt ice water if you're lucky. The upside -it's one block from the beach, a block from our bridge where we're allowed to sell and it is incredibly cheap, stay long term and it's even cheaper. We were given a room with three flea-filled cots and every time we walked in the house we were obligated to re-introduce ourselves to Jorge and assure him that, yes, we are already staying here.

We stayed a week and then said goodbye to the other guests - mostly artisans and street performers taking advantage of the only affordable housing in the otherwise touristic neighborhood. After having been together almost 24/7 for ten months straight, my relationship with Arturo was beginning to have a lot more downs than ups. We decided it was best for the both of us if we took a break from each other, so he stayed behind in Lima and I got on a bus with Paloma headed toward the jungle. Almost my entire time traveling in Latin America I had had at least one male by my side and thus, apart from the random cat calls, had never dealt with too many problems that solo women often deal with. It was immediately apparent, however, that the two of us traveling alone would be a different dynamic entirely.

When we left Lima we took a cab directly to the bus station (earlier in the week we had already encountered problems in that neighborhood and learned it was best not to walk). The bus station, which only has bus services from Lima to cities in the Amazon, was full of photos with jungle scenes and brightly colored wildlife that had us practically drooling over our much anticipated destination. Another nightmare bus ride that went through the night took us over mountain ranges and hours and hours of extremely potholed dirt roads. In the middle of the night we were awakened by a burly gun-toting local who boarded the bus to demand his pay. Pay for what? Well, for keeping the road safe for us to pass of course. This self-proclaimed gaurdian of deep jungle roads was given exactly what he asked for.

We arrived in the port town of Pucallpa in the early morning hours and the streets were all hustle and bustle as the locals tried to get things done before the dead heat of the day settled in. We found a hotel, showered, and went in search of a boat to take us deeper into the Amazon. After eating a small lunch we walked to the docks. Crossing to get to the boats it took less than a minute before we were surrounded by at least 30 men, on the pretense of selling us tickets, trying to touch us, rob us, kiss us - they started to fight amongst themselves and Paloma and I had to fight our way out of the crowd. (This was my first and only experience with a right hook to the jaw... however, beyond being a bit surprised, I don't think I made much of an impact.) We ran, both of us crying, down the street until we felt a safe distance from the crowd. Shaken up, we went to the small restaurant where we had eaten lunch to ask for help. The only route to buy our tickets was through the crowd of drunken, bored men. Two men at the eatery refused to accompany us, giving the excuse that it was too dangerous even for them. We walked down the street to the police station and explained our situation, but the officers on duty refused as well saying that that area of town is out of their jurisdiction. Finally, at the tourist office, the woman at the front desk enlisted two of her brothers and the five of us went to find a boat. We spoke with the captain of a brand new boat that would be leaving that same evening for it's first run from Pucallpa to Iquitos - a five day ride down the river. The kind woman from the tourist office got us a good deal for a cabin on the boat and we decided to take it. We hurried back to our already rented hotel room and were able to get half of our money back. We also went to the nearest hospital and got our free vaccinations for yellow fever. After buying a few provisions for the trip a moto taxi took us to the boat. Scheduled to leave at 5 pm, the boat left the dock at 2am.

The boat had three levels. The bottom was full of cargo that would be dropped off and replaced at tiny villages along the way. The second and third floors had a kitchen and about twelve passenger cabins. Our tiny cabin with a small twin bed, a couple of shelves and a bathroom was clean and comfortable. In fact, since it was a new boat, everything was very clean. The captain took extra special care of us since we had come with the head of the tourist office; he wanted us to give her a good review of his boat. The rest of the passengers on the boat lined up hammocks or made beds on the floor. The roof of the boat had the steering wheel and a couple of cabins where the staff slept. We hung our hammocks and worked on jewelry or read our books. We were quickly befriended by Joran, an eight year old with the biggest, most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. He was born and raised in the jungle and was full of stories about hunting tigers and monkeys with his father, and he made sure we knew all the legends of deep jungle ghosts and demons. On the second day we also made friends with John; a nice, overly prepared, and a little bit eccentric guy from the US. He was the only other foreigner on the boat. The four of us spent the five day boat ride through the Amazon telling stories, playing cards, or just sitting quietly on the roof watching a world virtually untouched by humans pass us by. At night, the full moon, bright over the wide lazy river, kept us mesmerized for hours at a time.



The days passed too quickly and we arrived in Iquitos with mixed feelings... wanting to continue on the magical journey down the river and excitement for what we would find in this jungle city. We fought our way through the crowd at the port, said tearful goodbyes to our dear friend Joran and his family, and found a mototaxi. In a few minutes of speaking with the driver I found out that he is Mormon and trusting him more for this reason, asked him to take us to an inexpensive and safe place to stay. He took us to the home of a very nice woman who rents out three of her rooms to make a little extra money. The price was decent and the location good, the rooms were clean and we had use of the kitchen as well. Paloma and I showered, left our things and went to explore.

A Taste of the Andes

After leaving the Huacachina we headed south once again. Stopping in Nasca for a few days we were able to see the city but unfortunately taking a plane up to see the lines was a little out of our budget. We stayed in a cheap hotel long enough for our friend from Ica, Andres, to catch up with us. The three of us headed even further down the coast to Camana. Since summer was coming to an end the beach wasn't too crowded but on the weekends there were still enough people to make a little money. We found a nice little hostel a block from the ocean and soaked in the sun. We stayed for the extended weekend then followed the crowds to the closest city - Arequipa.

Unfortunately we didn't choose the best day to leave. We had heard rumors of a nationwide demonstration opposing a tax placed on farm fertilizers, but were told that it wasn't starting until the next day. We tried to hitchhike but after several hours in the hot sun we flagged down a bus and the driver gave us a discount. Little did we know, we were given a discount on account of the demonstration already starting and fewer people traveling that day. What should have been an easy three hour bus ride to the city took about 18 hours... if we didn't have so much to carry it probably would have been quicker to walk. The demonstration involved farmers and other protesters blocking roads with large boulders and waiting on clifftops until the odd car or bus passes on the road below to drop large stones on them. So, in lieu of personal safety the bus was stopped before entering a canyon road to wait until nightfall when the protesters went home to their families. I, unfortunately, was still sick with an awful stomach flu and stuck on a bus with no toilet in the middle of a desert with no trees to squat behind. Needless to say... it was an unpleasant experience.

We finally arrived in rainy Arequipa around 4am the next morning... exhausted, hungry, cold, and at each others throats after being cooped up in the bus for so long. We found a large room with two beds close to the center at a decent price and the three of us fell fast asleep.

The rain and cold put a bit of a damper on our time in the 'white city' but fortunately most days it didn't start raining until the afternoon, which gave us a little time in the mornings to sell at Fundo del Fierro (a little spot near Parque San Francisco that artisans aren't bothered too much by the police). The money situation was, however, pretty tough, so one day I decided to go with Andres and be a moving statue. We painted ourselves all black with gold tear drops and gold lips. Then we stood still on the sidewalk until someone dropped coins in our tin can. Our act was me playing my jimbe and he would dance. It was so much fun! And we were able to make a decent amount of money. The down side was that I was washing black paint out of my ears and toenails for at least a month!

Apart from the weather, I really enjoyed Arequipa. The architecture is beautiful and you can find some hole-in-the-wall restaurants that make great Lomo Saltado. We stayed for a couple of weeks then Andres returned to his family and Arturo and I took a rather windy bus ride overnight to Cusco. Once again we were greeted by rain and cold... a little less rain, and a lot more cold.

The second we arrived in Cusco I knew I was going to fall in love with the city. At the bus station we grabbed a cab and asked him where the most affordable hostels are and where the artisans sell - he took us to San Blas. After asking around a bit we found a woman who rents rooms in her house for a great price. Arturo and got a HUGE room for only 10 sols per night (that's about 3.5 USD)! It was a decent place in a good location - really close to the plaza where we were able to sell. Travel always makes me realize how small the world really is - and two days after we arrived in Cusco a girl walked by our "street boutique" that I had met almost a year earlier in Mexico. It was crazy enough to run into her on another continent, only to find out that she was staying in the room underneath ours! When I had met her, Paloma, in Mexico we weren't able to speak the same language (she's from Chile), but this time we were. Paloma and I caught up on eachother's travel stories and became fast friends. We also met a lot of other really great people - many of whom spent a good deal of time in Cusco.

Being in Cusco and the surrounding Sacred Valleys was incredible. The history that has been carried through time in the everyday things make it a magical place. Unfortunately the rain put a bit of a damper on seeing much of the valleys and Incan ruins. It also made it more difficult for us to sell. We did, however, discover some of Cusco's little gems. El Baratillo, for example, is an incredibly cheap and large market that happens every Saturday. The small daily market near in San Blas near where we were staying also offered us cheap eats - our favorite being some awesome vegetarian food cooked by a friend of ours. The pizza place... tasty personal pizza, garlic bread and soda for 5 sols! it was always worth the long walk to this whole in the wall pizzeria. The nightlife in Cusco was a lot of fun too. There were plenty of different bars to choose from and lots of live music - and the crowd was a good mix of tourists and locals. We also became friends with many of the other artisans we met there. I always love the family feeling and unity there is among them even though in reality everyone is competition for business; but the ettiquette dictates some very strict unwritten rules that help everyone in the long run. Although I didn't make it Machu Picchu (much too pricy) or to visit much of the Sacred Valley, I did take a day to see a few of the ruins closer to the city. Paloma and I went with two brothers from Chile that were also staying in the same home we were. The four of us hiked up the mountain straight above San Blas until we ran into a woman offering horseback tours of some of the ruins. We decided to try it out and she led us to choose our horses. Even though I didn't have a ticket to enter any of the ruins, our horseback guide gave us tips on sneaking in and led us to many ruins that didn't require payment. At the Temple of the Moon an elderly woman was there who knew a lot about the symbols and carvings of the temple. The day was crisp and clear, at least for the morning, and was perfect for horseback riding through the valleys. Our tour lasted about five hours and we were able to see several different ancient Incan sites. It was really an amazing day.

Paloma and I had begun talking about visiting the Amazon jungle. Even though Arturo and I had originally planned on heading south I was a little disappointed that I would be heading away from the jungle and would leave Peru without seeing it. Two more of our friends, John and Rosanna, a Colombian/Australian couple, were also talking about heading toward Iquitos in the Peruvian Amazon. It didn't take much for our friends to convince us into backtracking and changing travel plans.

Home Grown

It was so great to spend almost a month during the holiday season with my family. It had been a really long time since I had been with them for that long. Also, it's always nice to stuff myself with some home cooked comfort foods. At the beginning of January my family drove me to the airport in Salt Lake to see me off on my next big adventure... South America. I had to make a stop or two on the way though.

First was the biggest city in the world, the chief, Mexico City. When I got there Arturo was there waiting for me. We caught the metro to a cheap hotel where we always stay near the center and ate some - can you guess? - tacos! Always a favorite. Our flight to Peru was scheduled to leave a couple days later, and with the money Arturo had made selling for the Christmas season we were able to relax and enjoy ourselves for a couple of days. We also went to some of the markets and stocked up on materials for our jewelry to take with us to the south. Mostly stones that can't be found outside of Mexico. Our flight was scheduled for 6 am, so we packed up and caught a taxi very early in the morning to the airport. When we tried to check in we were told that Mexican citizens require a visa to enter Peru and that we both require proof of onward travel to even get on the plane and that no amount of begging would change their minds - of course, being the oh-so-prepared traveler that we are, we did not have the visa or the required proof of onward travel. Luckily the airline was pretty great about getting us on a flight two days later to give us some time to straighten things out. So, many many hours of bus and metro rides, and many hours of standing in line and going from one building to another and another, and desk to desk, and changing our flight two more times and paying lots of fees, were put into our efforts to get out of the country. And we finally made it - it just wasn't all that easy.

We got to Peru in the middle of the summer. The first day we stayed in a hostel near the main square of Lima and coming from Mexico everything seemed sooooo cheap! We each got a three course meal, and it was a GOOD meal, with juice for the equivalent of about $1.50. The day we got to Lima there was a huge celebration for the city anniversary in the center with a lot of music and traditional dances from the region. After spending about a week trying to sell in the center of Lima, and finding it very difficult, we found out where many tourists go and we moved to a neighborhood about an hour's bus ride from the center called Barranco. Barranco is right next to the ocean and is a cute little touristy neighborhood. It is also very close to Mira Flores, which is another touristic and ritzy area of Lima. Since it was summertime there, and we were allowed to sell in the evenings, we did pretty well. We also met a lot of really nice people. The other artisans, local and travelers, were very kind and welcoming and incredibly willing to teach us new techniques, which is not always common. We found a cheap, clean room at a hotel nearby - the only downside was that on the weekends we had to move our things to a storage room and stay out of the hotel until midnight because they had to use the rooms during the day to rent by the hour. We got pretty comfortable though in our daily routine and we fell in love with the food - so cheap and so tasty. About three weeks after we had been in Lima I got in touch with a couple friends of mine who I had met in Colorado when I went to snowboard for a week the previous winter. They live in Lima, and one of them, Joaquin, came to see me and he took us out to lunch. It was great to see him, but unfortunately the ceviche we ate didn't sit well with me. Ok, so that's an understatement... I got so sick. For four days I couldn't leave the bathroom and couldn't even keep a sip of water down. I finally went to the pharmacy and got several pills, I even had to get pills that would keep me from throwing up the other pills. And the women at the hotel felt so bad for me that when the weekend came they didn't kick me out of the room.

When I was finally able to keep down a few salt crackers I told Arturo it was time to leave Lima and see another part of Peru. I was still incredibly weak, so we headed south but only an hour away to Punta Hermosa - a beach where many Limeños go on the weekends. We stayed the weekend with a very nice woman who invited us into her home when she saw us walking in the street. We got some sun - I got too much sun - but the police didn't let us sell there and we had to leave quickly.

Side note: The sunset in Peru is gorgeous. Really.

From the beach we continued south to the desert and stayed at the Huacachina, a desert oasis, outside of Ica. The desert there was amazing. Before I got there I thought you could only find deserts like that in the Middle East. We found a cheap room to rent and although we didn't sell a lot, we sold enough. There are mountains of sand here as far as the eye can see. And then some. We tried sandboarding, which I thought I would enjoy... turns out that dragging a heavy plank of wood up a hot mountain of sand for 45 minutes just to throw myself down it for thirty seconds and land in a heap - is not my idea of a great time. That said, we had some laughs and got a good workout. It did take several days however before I got rid of the headache I got from the double-flip crash landing on my last run. We made friends with a family of artisans who work with and sell shark fossils that they find in the desert near their home. One of the sons, Andres, invited us to stay with them for a night a look for fossils. We got to the tiny desert pueblo of Ocucaje just after sunrise, but despite the early hour Senora Mari and her entire family were already hard at work with the chores. They were all so excited to have visitors and very generous. The Senora told us about how her husband left her when their seven children were very young; she told us of times when there wasn't even enough bread to give to all of them and the older children often went without eating and all of them slept on the dirt floors of their tiny house in the middle of the hot desert. They still have that home but are fortunate now, thanks to the fossils, to have another home right next to it with a television and refrigerator. However, running water and indoor plumbing are still a luxury unheard of there. We spent the whole day playing with the kids and helping the family with the laundry. Water only comes once a month, so when it does it's a big deal and any washing has to be done on that day. The next morning, Andres and his brother took Arturo and I out on the motorbikes two hours into the desert. We spent many hours looking for shark teeth fossils and riding around the desert. At one point, I wandered away from the group and found a HUGE fossil! As big as my hand and fully intact. Andres and his family told me it was a gift from the Pachamama (mother earth) and that I should walk out in the desert and leave her a loaf of bread as thanks. In this small desert pueblo, most of the people use donkeys to transport their goods because very few have vehicles. They even took me for a ride on one of them... the kids ran after me bring me grapes and figs from their fields. It was a great experience. I will never forget the feeling of being in the middle of the desert like that. Nor will I forget the kindness shown to us by this humble family.

Meet the Parents

Still playing catch up...

Back in San Cristobal for the fourth time I still wasn't sick of it... and every time it was so great to see all the friends I left behind there. We stayed long enough to celebrate Arturo's birthday on the 29th of August. We also ran into some friends we had met in Guatamala and one of Arturo's best friends, Ulises, who he had grown up with and originally started traveling with many months previous. Ulises and his girlfriend Anne, and Arturo and I all hitched together to Tuxtla and spent a couple days camped in the center of the city next to a huge Catholic church.

From there, Arturo and I headed toward the Pacific coast and the beaches of Oaxaca. Due to the many political problems in Oaxaca and a recent hitchhiking scare (taxi driver killed by hitchhikers), it was much more difficult to get a ride that usual. It took us several days walking and camping in the rain and the middle of nowhere before we finally got close. We could finally smell the ocean but we weren't quite there yet and the sun was setting quickly. Luckily, our angel of the day pulled over in his BMW and told us he could take us to Puerto Angel. This kind soul, was a tall, red-headed Frenchman who spoke perfect Spanish and had LOTS of money. We came upon a military checkpoint in the road, and unsure if we were carrying drugs he asked us to get out and walk... luckily he waited for us on the other side and after we passed the soldiers he took us to one of his homes/hotels on the hillside in Puerto Angel. He let us shower in one of the many guest rooms, he offered us drinks and appetizers and we sat watching the sunset, conversing with him and his girlfriend for hours on his huge balcony overlooking the ocean. When it started to get late, he bought several pieces of jewelry for his girlfriend/housekeeper and then we all piled into his Hummer and he gave us a ride to a cheap campground in Zipolite.

The beach in Zipolite was really calm and pretty, but being low tourist season it was difficult to sell and we had to move on quickly. We tried hitchhiking to Mazunte but the roads were so empty that we ended up walking the entire way with our four backpacks, the guitar and the drum, in the million degree weather. We finally arrived and asked around for the hostel that was owned by the Frenchman's girlfriend. It was easy to find and she welcomed us cheerfully and gave us a great deal on a room. She and her 5 year old son live there and run the bar and restaurant in front of their house. We stayed for a few days and enjoyed the beach and danced salsa at the bar. One night, our friend the Frenchman even showed up to party - he brought his American wife.

From Mazunte we hitchhiked to Oaxaca City. It took us a little while to find a cheap place to stay but finally found a small hotel room fairly close to the city center. Oaxaca quickly became my second favorite city in Mexico. We planned on only staying one night and stayed two weeks. The plaza in the center was always full of people and different performers. Even though we weren't allowed to sell there - it was a great place to do hair wraps and when we were able to dodge the police we sold really well. The food in Oaxaca was better than anywhere else in Mexico, and the market in the center is huge. We had so much fun trying all the different local dishes.

Outside of the city we waited on the toll road for a ride to Mexico City. A pickup truck overflowing with a family and their friends finally stopped. They were headed all the way to the DF (Mexico City) and took us the whole way. Unfortunately the sun disappeared and we spent most of the 10 hour trip huddled under a plastic tarp fighting the rain. The family was very kind and made us a place to sleep on their living room floor that night. In the morning they made us breakfast and we left early to hitchhike to Morelia, Michoacan.

In Morelia we surprised Arturo's family - his mom and sisters were really excited to see him and it was great to meet them. We helped clean out their spare room and they let us stay there as long as we needed. We stayed for a month while Arturo got his documents and passport worked out. I met a lot of his old friends and we were in town for two big festivals where we were able to sell a lot. For my birthday we went to a small pueblo an hour from Morelia called Patzcuaro. Staying in one place for a month gave a nice break from the constant traveling, but after a month I was ready to get on the road and see something else.

We headed north and stayed a few days in Guadalajara - a really beautiful city. From there we followed the coast going as quickly as possible. We generally got rides with semi trucks and trailers. The only hard part about heading north through Mexico is the closer you get to the states, the more military checkpoints there are on the road. We got stuck several times in the middle of the desert waiting as long as 11 hours so the soldiers could poke their heads in the back of the semi and wave us along. The fun part was that the drivers were always more than happy to give me a driving lesson, I even took over for a while when one of them needed a nap and drove the 18-wheeler.

Around the end of November we made it to Tijuana. At first we stayed in a cheap hotel in the center but when I woke up one morning to the sound of people yelling that they had found a dead body behind the hotel, we decided it was time to find a new place to stay. We rented an apartment for the month and I crossed the border every few days to work. My boss at The Tractor Room where I worked last in San Diego was so nice, and put me on the schedule so I could make a little extra cash. I also was able to get a small spot at the farmer's market selling my jewelry. I didn't quite stay the whole month because I got sick and after a hellish trip to the emergency room I rented a car and drove to Idaho to stay with my family. In the mean time, Arturo took a bus to Barra de Navidad to sell and spend Christmas there.

Flying Time

Time always gets the best of us it seems. I´ll have to do a quick summary to get things caught up.

After hitchhiking our way to Merida in the northwest of the Yucatan peninsula and spending the night under the semitruck, we caught a ride to the beach Progresso. Here is where they say the Gulf of Mexico meets the Carribean Sea. After two days on the beach the six of us hit the highway again. This time, as we were walking to where we were about to try hitching a ride, without even sticking out a thumb a car pulled over and offered us a lift. The man and his girlfriend insisted on fitting the six of us in to the four remaining seats along with our six large backpacks, two drums and one guittar. Somehow, it worked. We arrived two hours later in Valladolid where the nice couple bought us all lunch before sending us on our way.

Since Valladolid is a short distance from all the beaches of the Carribean, but not too expensive, we decided to rent a house for the six of us for a half a month. We found a cheap place with three rooms and a small bathroom - completely empty of any type of chair or bed, or anything at all - but it was home. From Valladolid we were able to leave all of our heavy bags and hitchhike easily on the weekends. We went to Cancun, Isla Mujeres, Playa del Carmen, and Tulum. As well as one of the seven wonders of the world - the ruins of Chichin Itza. From Valladolid our crew split up. Eleise had left for Australia, and Lisa had left for Germany. Cesar and Angel found jobs in Playa del Carmen. Arturo and I had gotten together and decided to go to Tulum again for a few days and from there to Mahahual in the south.

In Tulum there is a huge natural reserve called XianKan. It´s 50 km of jungle lining white sand beaches and clear turquoise water. To enter there is one dirt road where now and then tourist passes during the day. We decided to spend a few days in the jungle and packing a lot of water headed down the road hoping for a car to pass and give us a ride. Soon enough a nice car driven by a very nice Norwegian couple stopped to give the scraggly travelers a ride. After an hour of chatting they dropped us off deep into the reserve with their best wishes and fifty dollars. After a few days of fighting mosquitos and enjoying the silence we hitched our way to Mahahual a few hours south. A friend of mine that I met in Palanque owns a restaurant there and let us pitch our tent out back. Mahahual was incredibly relaxing and beautiful. It was great to hang out with some good company and work on a bit of jewelry before heading off again.

From Mahahual we caught a ride with a dad and his five kids in their big van all the way to Palanque, at least ten hours away. We sang songs with the kids, they invited us to dinner and bought several pieces of jewelry from us. They left us in Palanque with their telephone and address if we ever made it up to their neck of the woods. From Palanque we made our way through San Cristobal again, and then headed into Guatamala.

We crossed the border illegally and easily to avoid problems since Arturo didn´t have a passport. From the border we got on a ´chicken bus´to Lake Atitlan and found a cheap place to stay in Panahachel. We stayed for a few days then headed to a less touristic town on the other side of the lake called San Pedro. We found a small hotel that charged us one dollar per night! The food in Guatamala is great, the lake is beautiful, we were able to sell really well, and with such a cheap place to stay... what´s not to love? We stayed for a couple weeks there before heading to Antigua to visit. Antigua is a nice colonial city, however, not so cheap and they don´t let artisans sell in the streets. So needless to say, we couldn´t stay long. We had planned on heading to Honduras in the south, but when we got to the border it wasn't quite as easy to cross without a passport and Arturo got sent back to Mexico. So we passed quickly through Guatamala the way we had come and back to San Cristobal. Again.