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Ending it all - on the Amazon

It’s close to 6pm as I write this, sitting on the verandah outside my room at the Explornapo Lodge. Its getting dark but the sky is a magnificent blend of ink blue and flaming orange. It’s really quiet – and what sounds there are get amplified. I hear crickets all around me, the shouts of local boys as they play football and the engine of a motorised dugout as it chugs away into the distance. It feels good just to be here – and it seems appropriate to close my journal right here; although I have a few days to go in Santiago before I fly back to Sydney.

After a restful afternoon nap yesterday, we went piranha fishing (I watched while the others fished). The boat ride itself was wonderful – it was early evening and the air was cool. We swung onto the Rio Napo and then dove into a narrow waterway, the Rio Negro – a river that was literally black because decaying leaves release tannin into the water. We were surrounded by dense foliage and overhanging trees and it was all very atmospheric. Everybody caught at least one piranha (the bait was raw meat and of course, they couldn’t resist that, poor things). We also had a rather stereotypical German (he was a tour guide who was here to see the ‘facilities’) – who caught half-a-dozen and said “Gut!” I figured he wasn’t giving instructions on how to clean the fish…

On our return, I got talking to one of the 'schoolbook' volunteers – who’d been doing this for 7 years. She had also worked with Rotary International on their polio programme so we got talking for a while. Looks like the school supplies programme is not targeting just bored college students who want this on their CV but seems to have a fairly broad spectrum of age and occupation. The main organiser was this big guy who worked at the Chicago zoo (discovered he worked in the accounts department – a bit of an anticlimax!). A local guide however told me that despite their good intentions, it was the same old story. The villagers didn’t send their children to school claiming they didn’t have school books – but though they now have no excuses, they still don’t want to send them to school!

After dinner, we went on another boatride through the dark tributaries of the Napo. We saw butterflies disguised as owls (guess what – they’re called owl butterflies), sleeping hummingbirds, spiders, bright green frogs and other tiny creatures – under a crescent moon and a sky lit up by stars. Just the experience itself was magical.

Woke up early this morning (so what’s new) and went for a walk up the canopy walkway. It’s a narrow rope (dacron actually) walkway about 100-120 feet above the ground – above most of the trees. The walkway itself is quite long and connects 8 trees – with an average length of 75-100m between trees. Its nice to see the jungle below – but was surprised we didn’t see (or hear) many animals. No sloths, no macaws, no toucans. I suppose the Amazon is about anacondas, frogs and spiders rather than other fauna…

We did go for another long boatride this afternoon (must say Iam getting addicted to them!). After navigating through dense overgrowth, we finally came onto a clearing which was basically a bright green bog. We spotted the hoatzin – locally known as the stink bird for obvious reasons. It’s a prehistoric bird – and its name is presumably the reason it hasn’t become extinct. The bogs around here are infested with anacondas and electric eels but we didn’t encounter any (much to the chagrin of the good German).

Then it was back to the lodge – ready for a mid-morning start tomorrow for the long ride back to Iquitos and Lima…

Mosquitoes in Iquitos

A third of Peru is Amazonian rainforest – a fact that most of us don’t register in the glories of Cusco, Machu Picchu and Nazca – and Iquitos is the undisputed capital of the Peruvian Amazon. Its claim to fame is that it is the world’s largest city NOT to be connected by road – though you can sail all the way to the Atlantic! Iquitos' roads themselves though are buzzing with three-wheelers and motorcycles (more of the Made-In-India theme)

Stepped out of Iquitos airport into clammy, tropical weather (it’s been a very long time). I was splurging on the last leg – with an all expenses paid trip to a remote lodge 160km downstream on the Amazon. So I had a guide waiting to pick me up at the airport, drive me around town and then deposit me on the riverboat, Amazon Queen. We would have a leisurely saunter down the Amazon (some 40km) before transferring to a speedboat to zip through the next 120km in a couple of hours – my final destination being the ExplorNapo Lodge on the Rio Napo, a tributary of the Amazon.

Iquitos itself is quite unremarkable – except for a couple of points. Firstly, the airport is open only early morning and late evening – because there are many vultures around during the day (I don’t mean the touts!). Hence the 0545 start. The airport also has a fair few shells of abandoned planes (presumably hit by vultures!) - that don't exactly inspire confidence...Secondly, most of Iquitos is flat, very few buildings above 1-2 stories – and that’s because the ground is too soft for deeper foundations. Architecturally, there are a number of ‘wild west’ style mansions with huge wrought-iron verandahs – built by the lumber barons of Iquitos…

Setting afoot on the Amazon Queen, I must admit a thrill at the prospect of actually steaming down the Amazon. Shridhar-style, that’s Ganga-check, Yangtze-check, Mae Khong-check, Amazon-check – that’s a number of the world’s great river systems covered…Of course, any notions of travelling into the unknown were dashed fairly quickly - most of my companions on the AQ seemed to be well-heeled middle-aged American tourists from places like Fort Wayne, Indiana!

Iquitos is where the Amazon begins its journey and it’s already around 2km wide. I was amazed at the extent of gunk floating in it – tree trunks, water hyacinths, leaves. Although we did see the occasional lumber boats, pushing along a thousand logs, the riverbank didn’t give any indication of the widespread deforestation in these parts – it was just an unbroken stretch of green. There is the occasional village or mission (the missionaries were quite active here). We also passed Indiana – the largest mission in these parts (rather fitting given the origins of most of the mid-west American tourists!)

After a couple of hours, most of the tourists got off the AQ, leaving me with just one other fellow tourist – Gurmeet Pawar, a Brit Indian with a strong cockney accent. Americans and their stereotypical crassness – when they got off, one of them asked Gurmeet if he was going further. When he said yes, she then asked him if he was going back to his village!! Gurmeet’s best English accent came out – “I live in London!” Still, I found it quite amusing thinking of the two of us - persons of Indian origin - in a boat up the Amazon!

The last hour of the journey was really nice – we continued along the Amazon for a bit and then turned left onto the Rio Napo, a tributary (only 1km broad!). We continued down the Napo for around 40 min before turning right onto a narrow waterway. Ten minutes later, we were at Explornapo Lodge. The lodge itself is quite basic – with shared bano facilities and no electricity. My room has a macchar dani though (mosquitoes in Iquitos)! The place has its own pet macaws and capybaras but seems to be primarily infested with a lot of Americans from various Hicksvilles. Of course, there is also a large group of volunteers who have come out here to distribute books to schools in riverine communities. Well, it’s a typically drowsy afternoon here at the Explornapo – but there’s a boat ride and piranha spotting/fishing coming up this evening…

LimaLazing

Uneventful chill out in Lima after all the hiking, huffing and puffing of the past few days. Went to Barranco, the bohemian quarter of Lima; with its crumbling old mansions set amidst dusty grounds, it reminded me of Sahib, Bibi aur Ghulam and Calcutta’s old havelis…

Also (on the recommendation of my hostal owner), went last-minute souvenir hunting in the ‘burbs and stumbled upon a Bajaj sales and service showroom! There certainly seem to be a number of ‘made-in-India’ products here in Lima – Rahul Bajaj’s polluting machines, Hero Hondas and even Bajaj Pulsars!

Off to Iquitos and a three-day Amazon adventure tomorrow – the last leg of my journey before I head back to Santiago – and Sydney. Another early morning flight tomorrow – this one’s at 0545, groan!

Of Prayers and Sacrifices

Spent the morning wandering around Arequipa. Saw the Santa Catalina monastery – which is like a little town inside more than a building. It occupies a whole city block and the nuns are protected from the other citizens of Arequipa by a towering wall. SC had a Mediterranean feel to it inside with bougainvilleas, trees and walls painted blue, white and burnt orange. It was begun by a wealthy nun in the late 1500s – and recruited girls from wealthy families in Arequipa. Apparently, they lived a hedonistic life in the seclusion of the convent till, in the 1800s, a no-nonsense Dominican nun put a stop to this and ‘reformed’ the place.

Then I wandered over to the Museo Santuarinos Andinos – an excellent museum that devotes itself to the child sacrifices found in the volcanoes around Arequipa (appealed to the disastrix in me!). The museum is well-structured and we had a well-informed guide, which made all the difference. For some reason, the girl at the counter told me it was 15 Sols and then said something to the girl handling cash – and let me in free! I wasn’t complaining but unfortunately my espanol wasn’t good enough to figure out why! There’s not much in there; clothes, weapons, a map of the route the Inkas took, burial items etc. – but it all comes together really well (and is linked up with a 20min A/V intro we were shown first). The details and stories of the sacrifices are quite interesting and it was quite dramatic to see Sarita’s mummy (Sarita is not Indian – she was so named because she was found on Sara Sara). Juanita was not on display at the time – but I do remember seeing a documentary on her on National Geographic. BTW, this pic of Juanita is courtesy www.panorama-peru.com.

Off on an overnight super-cama to Lima this evening – writing this at the bus terminal. Met an Indian couple here – he was a banker and she worked with an NGO; in London. They had a couple of weeks off and were travelling in Peru. They were off to Nazca from here while I headed further north to Lima. So its Lima for the next 2 days before I head up to Iquitos on the Amazon…

El Condor Pasa

Struggled out of bed at 2:00 am and hung around near the hostal entrance for my minivan. It finally came at 2:40 and joined a bunch of terribly sleepy (naturally) vanmates. We drowsily drove in darkness for 3 hours to breakfast at Chivay – the main town near Colca canyon. Realised how spectacular the scenery was on the way back to Arequipa in the afternoon. After a sleepy round of introductions, we headed up along the canyon. The canyon here is only around 1500m deep – it looked deep enough for me!

The drive to the condor viewing point, Cruz de Condor, was a mad rush as a convoy of minivans hurtled along the edge of the canyon, jostling to get there before the others. We reached Cruz de Condor at 8am and found about a hundred other tourists and a line of vendors selling peanuts, corn, ponchos and tacky plastic condors.

Nothing much happened for an hour or so as a 100 pair of eyes anxiously kept vigil. It was pleasant though in the crisp morning air of the mountains and there were eagles, sparrows and some small fork-tailed birds gliding around. Seeing them really does make you realise birds were meant to fly – they almost seemed deliriously happy swooping and being lifted up high by the airstreams. And then, when people were dejectedly beginning to pack their cameras, a condor made an appearance – and it seemed almost like it was putting on a show for us! A bit on the Andean condor – it is the largest bird in the world with a wingspan of 3m. It is so heavy that it cannot lift itself off the ground. So it often perches on ridges and crannies high up in the Andes and uses air currents to lift itself off. The Cruz de Condor is home to a family of condors who make an appearance in the early morning (9am is early for me!) taking advantage of the heat thermals at that time of the day. Our thespian literally circled us and came closer and closer till he was virtually right over our heads. It was magnificent to watch. The condor is sacred to Inkas, by the way. Together with the puma and the snake, it forms the chakana, the Inka cross that depicts the three tiers of Inka life; the higher world, this world and the lower world (devlok, earth and patal!).

The drive back to Arequipa was spectacular; a twisting mountain road surrounded by volcanoes. We also passed Ampato – where they found the frozen mummies of 3 children sacrificed to her by the Inkas. One of them was the famous Juanita – Ice Maiden, a 12 year old whose body was preserved by the inaccessible snows atop Ampato for 500 years until a nearby volcano erupted in 1995; its ash melting the snow away and exposing the bodies. Juanita is preserved in a museum down in Arequipa. The mountains and volcanoes around here are the cradles of the river systems that eventually become the Amazon some 1000km north-east.

Puno to Arequipa - Bus kya!

Checked out of the hotel and found Yobana (curse her!) hadn’t paid them – despite my paying Marleny in Cusco and giving the receipt to Yobana. A few frantic calls to them before Marleny sorted things out (Yobs was absconding) and off I went to the blue bus station to take a bus to Arequipa. First, we waited an hour for the 9:00am bus to fill up with passengers. Next, we leisurely trundled up to Juliaca – 46km north of Puno. Unfortunately, some people got off and the bus driver decided to wait till all the seats were taken. That meant one got to see life passing by in Juliaca on a Monday morning. Juliaca is an unlovely city – just like a lot of mid-sized Indian towns. Ugly 3-4 storey buildings, dust, bicycle rickshaws, no one stopping at traffic lights, a chaotic intersection that doubled as a bus terminal, dust, tiny shops fronting narrow roads selling everything from sofas to stainless steel utensils, dust…

5 hours and many pit stops later we crawled into Arequipa. Angie from Hostal Los Torres was waiting patiently for me (I’d booked a room online the previous evening and the hostal had said someone would be at the bus station to see me). All in all, everyone at the hostal was incredibly friendly and helpful. I wandered around Arequipa that evening and booked myself on a 2am tour the next day to the Colca Canyon. Yes, that’s 2am – so we get there in time to see the famed Andean Condor.

Arequipa, Peru’s second largest city, looks lovely. It is hemmed in by three volcanoes – of which El Misti ('The Gentleman' - Arequipa’s guardian volcano) has the classical conical shape. Of course it doesn’t seem to be much of a guardian – given the alarming frequency with which earthquakes hit Arequipa. Its estimated there’s around 100 volcanoes within a 200km radius of the city – so that makes for a lot of seismic and volcanic activity! Most of central Arequipa is built from sillar; a whitish stone that is found in these parts – and that too lends a pristine look to the place. Arequipa looks visibly richer than Lima. The people are local and not migrants from the countryside, there is a strong upper middle class and its attendant trappings (stylish clothes, a range of cuisines, organic food stores and the tell-tale sign of wealth – lots of vets and pet care shops). Arequipans are very proud of their city and 15^th Aug (the day it was founded more than 500 years ago) is celebrated with more gusto here than any other national festival.

Taquile Sunset

Lake Titikaka! makes you forget the brown and grey dump that is Puno. Our little group clambered over some boats to get to ours – only to find it wouldn’t go. The ‘captain’ was trying the usual Ctrl-Alt-Del for recalcitrant vehicles – sucking (and spitting) diesel from a pipe until the engine finally started after a sweltering 30min on board.

First stop – the reed islands of Uros. The peaceful Uros went to live on the lake 1000 years ago after being pushed out by aggro Inkas and Aymaras. They built islands of reed; which is abundant in the shallows of the lake and lived isolated lives. Reeds are their livelihood (of course, there’s tourists now!) –they make islands, boats, watchtowers, houses out of them (reeds, not tourists). They even eat the fresh young shoots of the totora reeds.

The way they make their islands is quite interesting. First they find roots of reed clumps – these serve as ballast for the islands. They then strew reeds over this to form the ‘ground’ of the island. Of course, these need to be replenished fairly frequently. Its quite tricky walking on them – they’re springy and spongy! They then moor the island by way of anchors of stones tied with (guess what) reeds. They also use reed ropes through strategically placed holes in the island to assess depth of water (the equivalent of plumb lines); when to replenish the roots etc.

Each island houses between 5 and 15 families and there’s around 25 such islands. Each island also has a chief – he’s the one who showed us around. When there’s a fiesta or marriage, the islands cast off their moorings and come together to form one large island. Amazing to find them living these lives just 5km off Puno. They didn’t allow tourists in till 1995- when Fujimori offered them solar panels in exchange for letting a limited number of tourists visit them. That ‘limited’ number now translates to around 50 boats a day. Wonder how long they will survive (mea culpa too of course). We then left the Uros behind and headed 2 hours north into the Lake to Taquile (not Tequila – ha, ha – joked our guide). A nice touch – all the villagers of ‘our’ island lined up along the boat and sang a farewell song for us!

After mooring, we had a stiff 45 minute climb up to the top of Taquile and everyone was breathless (it wasn’t just me). Maybe the fact that we were at close to 4000m had something to do with it. The islanders of Taquile are famous for their weaving. In fact, the day we went, there were some Quechua ‘tourists’ from Cusco who’d come to observe Taquile weaves and weavers. The men weave their own caps – and caps are important in defining you in a society that has strict rules (“the only way to divorce here is to escape the island “ said our comedian guide). Headgear defines whether you are an elder, married, single. Even women have clothes that define their status – and even moods! For example, pompoms dangling on the left side mean “Don’t talk to me, I am not in the mood”. Its amazing how these islands, just a few km apart from each other, have their own sets of rituals, societies and even languages.

A heart-warming sight was the photo exhibition in the main square. One of those NGO groups had introduced the Taquile to photography – and they decided to use photography to catalogue their lives. And they also made some money converting some of them to postcards. They had a co-op store as well which had exquisite clothes, bags etc. I bought a finely woven scarf before the long trek down to the boat…

Lago Titikaka - Puno's saving grace

Almost missed the bus to Puno. Went to the bus station with Marleny (she’d adopted me – her golden goose presumably) and we found the bus leaving the bay. Marleny (bless her) ran for some 200m with my big suitcase while I brought up the rear. Made it with a lot of huffing and puffing (becoming par for the course in Peru). Then it was a 7 hour ride to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titikaka – through typically Indian scenes. Green fields with cows and oxen; shepherds with scrawny sheep; the occasional dusty little town and the ubiquitous painted slogans on kuccha brick walls for everything from Inka Cola to posters for local municipal candidates. Not to mention scrawny dogs running after the bus and vendors peddling everything from water to cheap wafers everytime the bus stopped anywhere. The bus (semi-cama) boasted a toilet – but it was stinking and there was no water; just plastic bags and tetrapaks stuffed into the basin. Felt right at home!

Arrived at Puno at around 4pm – and felt instantly depressed. Puno is a ghastly town with not a single redeeming feature. All the houses have an outer wall of exposed brick; as if the entire town is still yet to be finished. And then there are these coils of overhead wires festooned on every street and rooftop. The market was dry and dusty and the veggies all covered with a layer of dust. The bus terminal wasn’t brick-walled but being painted a blotchy blue didn’t exactly help the aesthetics of the place. The only saving grace was the sparkling blue waters of Lake Titikaka beside the ugly sprawl.

Marleny had transferred the goose to Giovanna (pronounced Yobana). She picked me up at the bus terminal, took me to the hotel, showed me a number of tour options and got me into my first (hopefully last) con of the trip. She charged me USD25 for a day trip on the lake that I later discovered cost half that amount. After giving her a blasting on the phone (she offered to come to the hotel and explain but curiously enough, never showed up after that!), I wandered around the central part of Puno. It is touristy but looked nice (compared to the rest of Puno that is). Early to bed for another early day tomorrow on the lake.

Machu ado about something

Machu Picchu – and it lives upto all the hype! Must admit I was a cynic – and came along since I had come so far (and not to come to MP would be a travesty). Another desperately early start as I hobbled across to the bus stand at 0545. Lines of sleepy fellow tourists were already there. We were herded onto a minibus – for the winding 8km 25 minute ride up Machu Picchu mountain (Old Mountain in Quechua).

Green forests, the mountain tops wreathed in mists and a twisting muddy track that left AC far far below in a matter of minutes. I was right at the back of the bus; so naturally I didn’t dare look over my shoulder. My neighbour was a tour guide who informed me that the last Indian he had seen here was 2 years ago – the Doshi family from Pasadena, California. I counted 15 minibuses coming down – so that meant there were 300 people up there already (and I thought 0545 was early!). My neighbour informs me that we would expect around 1500 people today (including the day trippers from Cusco – who come in around 11am). In high season(May-Jul), figures hit 4000.

Stumbled out of the bus into a crisp morning at the top – and bumped into Lourdes and a stringy Argentine youth (bf? would be bf??)...Also met a couple of other girls from my Sacred Valley tour (this is turning out to be a regular package tour!!). We then went in through the gate and there it was in front of us with Huayna Picchu looming in the background (that’s the SugarLoafy mountain in the picture postcards – and it means “Young Mountain” in Quechua). MP looked serene in the early morning light – there were a few people wandering around but there was a sense of solitude; of something mystical. The ruins themselves are probably quite small (500mX300m) but it’s the setting that makes it special – perched atop a 3000m high mountain and surrounded by other equally high mountains draped in a velvet green; a delicate mist hovering above the mountains and a powdery blue sky above.

The ticket was for the entire day but we had a guide for the first couple of hours. He seemed determinedly Quechua; even wearing colourful 'headman' headgear and a poncho. He was particularly severe on a bunch of Brit kids in our group; “don’t sit there – this is a sacred place”, “no smoking – see the back of your ticket”. Of course, they promptly DID see the back of their tickets and found no such line – but good naturedly cracked a few jokes amongst themselves. There was also this fat American who had got a James Brown doll and dressed him up like a Quechua and was busy photographing him everywhere – a la Amelie.

Walked around a lot – and Sir Jeffrey Hillpyg Smyth was a real boon (he’s my walking stick by the way!). By early afternoon, the clouds had descended and the mists rolled in; followed by a fine rain. It just added to the atmosphere (surprisingly, despite the large number of tourists, MP was able to absorb the lot – barring a couple of spots it didn’t feel crowded at all).

Back to AC in the afternoon – a rainy, bumpy slightly scary ride down in the mini-bus. The track is narrow, so we had to back up a few times to let uphill buses through (it was close to 1pm and they were still coming!). Met this German lady on the train back to Cusco. Interesting way of getting the conversation going! I was wearing the white wristband Anu had given me – “make poverty history”. Claudia (“easy to remember my surname – its Warning!”) asked if I worked for the programme…I explained how I got it and turns out she works in Development (in Bonn) and was jointly responsible for the programme a couple of years ago. She now works a lot with rural women (Peru was one such trip – MP being a day distraction for the team). She visits India 3-4 times a year, lives in Andheri and travels by 2^nd class in Mumbai’s suburban trains! She also talked about India in relation to other countries; India has a strong legal framework to support developmental work, co-operatives etc. but “the problem”, she said, laughing heartily, “is in operationalising the framework – and doing things!”. We got back to Cusco around 10pm (those switchbacks again to help us descend into a brightly lit Cusco). Marleny was waiting at the station – with tickets in hand for my bus journey tomorrow morning to Puno; on the shores of Lago Titikaka.