The time has come to close the book on my South American adventures. A fantastic continent where I first discovered proper travelling, and it was undoubtedly the best thing I have done in my life. I would urge anyone who has the time and funds to choose S.A. for a big trip. If you have an open mind and are prepared that things will go wrong, expect the unexpected, and understand sometimes you’ll have to throw your best laid plans out the window, then you will have an awesome time.
On our travels in Latin America we met many street dogs, and most of them were very friendly. Street dogs get a bad rap because of rabies, but we found the majority of them (with a few exceptions) were actually in very good shape. And if you showed them even the slightest attention, you would have a canine companion for life. Or at least for an hour or so until you got on the next bus. This post is dedicated to them.
This one we met in the sea at Colonia de Sacremento (Uruguay), who insisted on fetching rocks from the water for us. In 30 minutes of splashing about he’d piled up a small wall of stones on the beach.
1. In Bolivia it’s considered good luck to run over a cat. The brutal balance is restored by making it bad luck to run over a dog.
2. Sadly a ‘Ferreteria’ isn’t a shop solely devoted to ferrets, just an ordinary hardware store.
3. Paying 1 Boliviano for the toilet doesn’t necessarily mean that toilet will be better than going behind a bush. In fact it pretty much never means that.
4. Just about every single car in Bolivia and Peru has a ‘taxi’ sticker on it. This does not mean it’s an official taxi or in any way roadworthy. You can buy these stickers for nothing from the local markets!
5. There are more donkeys on the Isla del Sol than the rest of South America. This may or may not be true, but it certainly seems that way when you’re woken at the crack of dawn by the bleatings and nayings of these demented beasts. Don’t be fooled by this picture, these woolly mammals are a menace!
Following on from my last post, I decided to devote an entire article to Bogota’s graffiti. Why? Well because it was some of the most impressive I’ve ever seen, anywhere in the world. This was all taken in and around La Candelaria neighbourhood, the lively spot where we spent three nights. Hope you enjoy the images…
This first one is the larger version of my current blog header. Pretty striking! The devil is in the detail, there is so much going on in this picture you could look at it for a full 5 minutes.
I’ve always been interested, at least on some level, with graffiti. On my trip around South America I came across such a wide variety, I decided to start taking pictures of it. At it’s best, graffiti is thought-provoking, funny, shocking, political, controversial, and sits with the best art around. It’s art at street level, it’s not meant to sit in a fancy gallery for an elite cultured aristocracy. It provides a voice for the voiceless, a creative outlet for people who may not have the means to communicate any other way.
Of course, not all graffiti reaches those heights, some is just nice to look at, and some is totally bland and uninspiring. The pieces I’ve added below have interested me in some way, whether it’s the message behind them, the technical skill of the artist, or just a striking composition. First up is Bolivia, and the little town of Copacabana on Lake Titicaca. This piece is a bit of a cross between graffiti and indigenous art.
For our final overland journey in South America (Cartagena to Bogota), we decided to take one more long distance bus. I suppose it was fitting then that the bus should be delayed for ten hours thanks to three accidents, countless roadworks and the drivers getting lost. The first of the accidents involved the earlier service from the same company we were travelling with, and we picked up those passengers at the side of the road. Several of them were crying but we never found out what happened. Ah South American buses, how we will miss you.
By the time we arrived in Bogota, it was nightfall the next day. As they opened the hold and handed out the bags, the bus driver picked up a box, the handle snapped, and a pile of dead fish in water fell out on the street. Needless to say, we were glad to get in a taxi and leave that bus behind! We slumped into bed knackered, and piled on the thick blankets against the first cold night we’d experienced for some time. The next day we took a cable car up the steep side of Cerro de Monserrate to view the city from above. The city is 2,625 metres above sea level, and the top of this mountain takes you up to over 3,100 metres. So it’s a pretty good view!
After the busy streets of Cartagena, we decided we needed some time on a beach. We had heard of Tayrona National Park through other travellers and friends, and it came highly recommended. Colombia is a little more difficult to travel than other more tourist-orientated countries in South America, and after doing some investigation, it turned out a door-to-door minibus transfer would be better than the arduous task of getting a local bus.
So we set off on the 5 hour trip to Taganga, a small little fishing village that had become a popular spot for locals and backpackers. In some respects this popularity and the resulting tourist development had negatively affected the town, and the beach front was practically just restaurants and street sellers. I didn’t see many fishermen!
Ah, the Inca Trail. A four day hike over mountain passes, down winding stone stairways, through cloud forests, fields and unseen Inca ruins… this popular trek is usually fully booked months in advance, but I can assure you it’s no walk in the park. And thanks to an unexpected visit from our old friend the stomach bacteria, it turned out to be a tougher challenge than initially anticipated.
Our group consisted of me, Jem, two Danish girls and our guide Jamille (from left to right). Groups can get much bigger, but 5 turned out to be the magic number and we all got to know each other pretty well during the trek.
After Bolivia- which is now firmly cemented as one of my favourite places in the world- we crossed the border to Peru. And sadly, the majority of my time in Peru was spent with a bad case of the runs. This didn’t stop me doing most things, but it did stop me drinking, which is arguably the greatest crime ever achievable by a bacterial organism. At one point I mistakenly thought it had been conquered, proceeded to have a few beers to honour the occasion… big mistake: It returned so violently my intestines still quiver pitifully at the thought of it.
But while I was staggering around in a dehydrated daze, clutching a ragged toilet roll like a junkie cradling his crack pipe, I did manage to achieve a few cool things. Even if they were a bit painful at the time. Note: Peru is not the best place for ‘the squits’, there is a distinct lack of toilets combined with a profusion of long and bumpy bus rides.
In the last week I had three experiences on Peruvian buses worthy of mention. Up until that point, bus travel in South America had been a mostly tolerable, sometimes enjoyable method of getting from A to B. Up until then…