About Us Hi there. We're Paul and Diane from England, and we're currently backpacking around Latin America. When we planned our trip, blogs of actual accounts and routes were very helpful, so we decided to do the same during our travels. You can read more about us
here, and about our cycle-camping trip down the Pacific coast of America here.
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Arequipa is on the altiplano, the largest area of high desert plains in the world. It is overlooked by the snow-covered volcano El Misti, and is called the White City, perhaps because the old city was built from a local white volcanic rock, sillar. Any way up, it’s beautiful, if cold.
We are here for a look round, and as a staging post for a three-day trek into the Colca Canyon, about 5 hours away by minibus. Before the trek, we tour the Monasterio de Santa Catalina, a colonial-era convent. This is so large, it’s actually a city within a city. It’s been open to the public since 1970, and is still an active convent, although the nuns have moved into a newer section which is closed to the public. The interior is fantastic: walls and corridors are painted blue and red, and the play of light is marvellous. This is the corridor between the Novices Cloister and the Orange Tree Cloister.
There are six streets inside the monasterio, named after Spanish towns. The nuns had their own individual cells, some with courtyards of their own, and most with small kitchens.
The juxtaposition of blue and red is glorious: the blue reminds me of Nubian houses in Egypt. I often think it’d be a good colour for our house, but it just wouldn’t work without the strong sunlight.
The order is Dominican, and was established in 1579. Most of the early nuns were very rich, retained servants, and apparently did not live an appropriately contemplative life. In the 1870s, a new, strict Mother Superior had to be sent over to sort them out.
Shortly thereafter, we’re off to the Colca Canyon, the second deepest canyon in the world, deeper than the Grand Canyon in the USA. We’ve arranged a 2-night, 3-day trek down into the canyon and back, with a walk in the altiplano and a visit to a viewing point on the canyon rim to watch Condors. Here’s a scenic view of El Misti, with a vicuna in the foreground.
We stopped to walk around and look at the strange formations in this part of the desert.
And, of course, to look at the alpacas.
After lunch in Chivay, the regional capital, we stop to watch condors. Mature adults can have a 3.5-metre wingspan, although these guys are juveniles.
This guy is full grown though.
We stayed a night in the little town of Cabanaconde, and the next morning walked down into the canyon. Here we are setting off for our 3.5-hour descent.
The going underfoot is pretty loose, so we take it steady, although the locals more or less run down, wearing sandals rather than walking boots.
Fortunately, we have mules to carry our spare underwear and the like.
Eventually, the river appears below us, and the little flat area where we will camp. It’s 1200 metres from top to bottom.
Diane’s wondering whether she can stand a cold shower.
As it happens, she can, and she can also read my kindle in a hammock, it would seem.
The stars and the moon that night are absolutely fantastic. The next morning, we are up at 4am, yes, four o’clock in the morning, for the walk back up, so as to arrive at the top before the sun is too hot. About half-way up, the sunrise reaches the peaks on the other side of the canyon.
Three hours of trudging later, we are back on the top. A fantastic walk, if slightly painful for the calves.
Then it’s back to Arequipa, and a well-deserved pisco sour.
Off to Cusco now, on the overnight bus. We’re taking a 5-day trip into the Amazon rain forest, and then going to Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley. Can’t come to Peru without seeing Machu Picchu !
We arrived in Lima early in the morning after an exceedingly comfy bus journey care of Cruz del Sur, probably the best bus company in Peru. Mind you, regular readers will remember that in Ecuador a 10-hour journey would cost US$10 (about £7), but this one cost more like £21 each. For that, though, we did get better quality movies, a pillow and a blanket ! Our hostel was on an exceedingly busy road, reminding us that Lima is the biggest city we’ve visited since Bogota, but on arrival we were immediately offered breakfast and so we felt better. Here Paul models his new Peru t-shirt, to remind you of where we’re at.
Our host, Francis, gave us a half-hour briefing about buses and the sights to see – after that we needed a coffee and a walk. About 20 minutes later we found ourselves by the sea. Lima has a warm climate, but suffers from sea fog, hence we never really saw the full expanse of skyscrapers (maybe just as well). It was 1st May, a public holiday in Peru, and there were lots and lots of surfers riding the waves. The photo was taken from an upmarket shopping mall, Larcomar, built into the cliff side.
The nearby “Love Park” has a huge statue of a kissing couple, surrounded by Gaudi-esque walls reminiscent of Parque Guell in Barcelona.
Next day it was time to venture further, into central Lima. Following the various coloured indications on our host’s map we managed to get somewhere near the historical centre. But then we found ourselves driving over a huge bridge and into the “red zone” – you don’t want to go there our host had said. Too late, so we hot-footed it off the bus, and walked quickly back to the safe side ! See how busy this place is.
We visited the main square and two of the famous sights. First was the 16th-century Convent of Santo Domingo with its exquisite courtyards, wood carvings, original frescoes, paintings, library and bell tower with views over the city – here are a few pictures. The Spanish clergy didn’t mess about with their buildings: they are beautiful, high-ceilinged, cool spaces with large cloisters like the one below.
Serious frescoes, as well. The tiles below them were imported from Spain.
The main church, still in use. Much gold leaf was used in it’s construction. The cedar wood was brought all the way from Panama,
The parchment book in the picture below is now in the library. It was used in the Choir, the part of the church where some of the monks sat to sing during services (the picture above was taken from the choir). The book is absolutely huge so that they could see it from their seats around the walls.
Diane looks relieved at making it up the steps to the top of the bell tower.
Next we went to the 17th-century Convent of San Francisco, a little more imposing and with catacombs full of bones (they think they have the remains of about 25,000 people!) but we weren’t allowed to take photos inside, so here’s an outside shot of the huge main door of the still-active church. This place is also still a monastery, with about fifty monks.
After that all we needed to do was to get the bus back to our hostel. Unfortunately it was late afternoon rush hour and finding the bus stop turned out to be impossible – although there are signs, none of the bus drivers take any notice! After watching the locals for a few minutes (and whilst Paul was wondering if we had enough money with us for a taxi) Diane decided the only option was to wait for our bus, and as it arrived to jump out the road into the lines of buses and wave at our bus driver. Luckily it worked without her getting run over. We have heard that in the autumn there will be a new transit system introduced – maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the tourists then.
Central Lima probably deserved more time, but the city was a little too large for our liking. So the next day we decided to do something we find easy – a bike ride. We chose a tour which would take us around the coast, from where we were staying, the upmarket suburb of Miraflores, through Barranco (even more upmarket) to Chorrillo (er, not very upmarket at all). We rode first down to the sea again, perhaps Lima’s most attractive feature. Here’s an arty shot by Diane.
This is a ruined church in Barranco: it was built by fishermen before the place was populated, after a miraculous light led them back to shore when they were lost in the fog. It’s been ruined for a good while, but according to the sign, it’s restoration is imminent. I wonder if they’ll let the vultures stay. The vultures were protected here because they cleaned up after the Spanish, who, our guide said, turned the city into a sewer after they moved in.
Our group gazes down the coast past a building which was built illegally, as it blocks the view of the building behind us. They’re in court, arguing about it and in the meantime part of it is used as a car park !
Our guide tells us about the monk’s leap, where a monk infatuated with a young girl jumped into the water. The day we were there, the waves were about 4 metres, and I certainly wouldn’t have been keen.
Here we are arriving in sketchy Chorrillo. The houses here used to be upmarket, but the area is susceptible to earthquakes so all the money moved out. Today it’s a pretty poor area: there are shanty towns behind the houses you can see here.
Our hostel was a few minutes walk from the busy tourist centre of Miraflores, but we were tempted back early each evening for the free pisco sours, the local cocktail which is made with egg-white, lime juice and pisco, the local brandy. It’s delicious. Anyway, off to Arequipa in the south tomorrow on our new favourite bus company, for a quick trek down the Colca Canyon. And maybe more pisco sours J
We had a good time in Cuenca, and celebrated our final night visiting favourite eating and drinking holes. We now have to travel to northern Peru, via Loja in Ecuador, over the border to Piura in Peru, and then on to Trujillo on our way south. The bus journey to Loja was, according to the guide book, about 5 hours over narrow and twisty mountain roads. But, when we heard of a mini-bus option which would take only 3 hours we signed up quickly, despite it costing us an extra 6 dollars or so each. The minibus was almost new and exceedingly comfy (in contrast to the large public buses we usually take) and set off bang on time with only six passengers. However, as we left the depot we were told in Spanish (and then repeated again in English) that if anyone asked we were part of a tour group and we had hired the minibus for $120 group fee – mysterious we thought, especially as our $12 x six passengers didn’t add up to that amount. On the outskirts of town we were stopped by the police and although that in itself isn’t unusual, they were really probing the driver and female “tour leader” about the passenger licence and what sort of tour we were taking. At one point we were described as ‘friends’ but unfortunately that explanation fell flat when we didn’t know one another’s names J There was a lot of arguing and hand gestures and it seemed likely we weren’t going any further – at this point money changed hands ($100 apparently in favour of the chaps in uniforms !) and we sped on our way. An experience, but the bus was very comfy and the views of the Andes and the Paramo, a type of high-altitude moorland, were outstanding. Comfy is good, as over the next couple of days we have to go a long way on the bus, and every little helps.
We arrived in Loja and booked into a small hotel in the centre of town. We wandered around a bit and had a bite to eat. Nothing to interest us here apart from a small dress shop which, curiously, was also a money exchange. The rate seemed good so we changed dollars for Peruvian Soles without any written records being generated J This would save Diane haggling with the money changers at the Peruvian frontier tomorrow. There was not a single other tourist in town that we saw.
The next day’s journey over the border and into Peru was billed to be much longer, and was by public bus, so we prepared ourselves for another day of eating mainly crisps and biscuits. This bus would take us the whole way from Loja in southern Ecuador to Piura in northern Peru in about 9 hours, and would wait for us whilst we dealt with the border formalities. The border crossing was quiet and calm, and was made even easier by the Peruvian official being a fan of the Beatles: one advantage of us both having Liverpool as our town of birth on our passports ! Here’s Paul looking quite happy if a bit tired (and there’s still about 5 hours to go!). For those who are counting, Peru is country 10 on our trip.
After the border the scenery changed from fertile highlands to hot and sticky lowlands. We arrived in Piura, booked into a small hostal at the second attempt and again the town didn’t really having anything interesting going on to write home about. The temperature was uncomfortably hot, and we found a nice hotel on the main square with an air-conditioned bar: nice, we thought. Until we got the bill, that is: all that aircon costs L
The next day was a double anniversary: a few years of marriage (who’s counting?) and six months of this trip, on the same day. Well, guess what, we were on a bus again – this time to Trujillo, and a mere 7 hours. As usual we arrived far too early for the bus and this time we practiced our Spanish translation of the notices in the bus station: for example it’s quite easy to take excess or unaccompanied luggage here – fancy taking a gas cooker (20 Soles, about £5) or a large table (15 Soles) ? As we left Piura the humidity reduced and the scenery changed almost immediately to sandy windswept desert. In some places it looked like they had been using the flatlands to burn rubbish rather than landfilling it, and in fact they have.
There was also a rather un-picturesque cement factory, but they’re seldom works of art, are they ?
We arrived in Trujillo wondering what we would find. The guidebook we’re following didn’t rate the town, but we found a hostal near the main square with a nice room on the top floor overlooking the central courtyard. This made a nice change from the last couple of grungy nights.
We wandered around and began to like the town, which immediately had a friendly feel. The temperature was warm and dry rather than humid, so we were happy. Somehow they even knew it was our anniversary! (Actually, this was just one of the many casinos in town, but we stuck to the traditional alcohol-based celebrations.)
The main square was lively and surrounded by beautiful buildings.
Our hostal was also a tour agency, so decisions were easy to make and we went on three excursions to a number of nearby pre-Incan sites, all of which are old but only relatively recently discovered. Chan Chan, the ancient capital of the Chimu people, the Huacas del Sol and Luna (pyramids of the Sun and Moon), built by the Moche people, and El Brujo, where a mummy of a queen of the Moche was discovered recently, buried with many gold artifacts. The majority of other tourists were Spanish-speaking, so our limited language skills were tested a little. Mostly the locations involved minor conservation of the adobe brick structures, hence the photos here aren’t very colourful! Here is a selection of the archaeology just to give you an idea. The museums were also exceptionally interesting and the ceramics superb. What a treat to visit sites with so few people around and at the infancy of their conservation. Here are just a few snaps.
Diane hams it up with a museum display. They used a lot of nose ear-rings, as our guide called them, which dangled down in front of their mouths.
These are store rooms for offerings to the temple: the criss-cross design represents fishing nets, and also allows air flow into the rooms.
Anyone remember the Homepride men (Graded Grains Make Finer Flour) ? You have to be a certain age, I guess. This is one of two guarding part of the main plaza in the old city of the Moche and is about six feet high.
Here’s a view from the top of a huaca, looking towards modern Trujillo, which has pretty much overrun the site. As you walk around, there’s a lovely smell from the massive chicken farm next door.
Paul and the guide look at the decorations on the walls of the huaca.
Here’s the facade of the huaca showing the six levels, each covering the one before, so the huaca grew and grew.
They were big on human sacrifices here, to ensure fertility of the fields.
Another interesting sight is the Peruvian hairless dog, which accordingly to the guidebook was traditionally used as a body warmer by people with arthritis, though think I might prefer a hot water bottle myself: they don’t bark ! We saw a few, but this was the cutest with a quiff of hair on his head.
We went to the beach at Huanchaco about 8 miles south of the city, formerly a little fishing village and now popular with surfers. Over the last year or so we’ve travelled down an awful lot of the Pacific coast, and seen many surf towns, in the US and further south, and they are all strangely similar. These places start out as little fishing villages reflecting their local customs, but after the surfers have arrived, they tend to the same look: beach-front bars with sunset happy hours, often called things like “The Surf Shack” or “Sunset Bar”, hostels offering surf lessons, and restaurants selling pizza and burgers. I guess that’s what surfers want. The local fishermen here, though, still use traditional boats, called totoras, made from reeds.
We stayed here longer than anticipated: we liked Trujillo. Next stop Lima on the overnight bus. If you want you can also take it all the way to Buenos Aires or Santiago de Chile in one hit! Our trip to Lima is only nine hours: BA is over 3 days away. As for us, we’re still enjoying a slower itinerary: Six months so far, Mexico to northern Peru – will we make it all the way to Rio in only another 5 months or so ?
“El Placer de Viajar en Bus”, by the way, means “The pleasure of travelling by bus”. Hmm. Ask us in another six months.
Yes readers, we’re still in Ecuador and loving it ! On our trip so far, this is the longest we’ll have spent in one country: 46 days. We left Banos on an early morning bus bound for Riobamba, where we were told it was an easy change of bus towards Cuenca, our destination. Unfortunately the conductor was really confused, and tried to persuade us to get off the bus on the outskirts of town. A number of friendly Ecuadorian travellers, and indeed the driver, suggested this was a bad move, so we all climbed back on. We arrived at the bus terminal and were straightaway shuffled onto another bus bound for Cuenca – yes, it was easy after all (and as usual very cheap). The only problem with these long distance journeys is getting food (or food as we know it). Of course, numerous vendors always come onto the bus: you can buy ice cream (Ecuadorians love their ice cream), sugary drinks, crisps, jewellery, newspapers and even CDs. This time we cracked and bought crisps, the only food we ate all day ! Still, the scenery was exceptionally good as our journey continued through the Andes. People-watching here is fascinating, also. There were lots of local indigenous families travelling in between the mountain villages: interesting clothes, hats, babies in shawls, all juggling said unhealthy food items whilst crammed into a bus containing about 20 more passengers than was feasible.
As we neared Cuenca it started to rain, then it turned to hail and the grass verges turned white ! Luckily by the time we got off the bus it had stopped – April showers and all that. Cuenca is a beautiful colonial city at about 2500m. We are currently in the rainy season and for what it’s worth it’s winter, although when the sun shines you wouldn’t know it as it’s pretty hot. We found our hostel easily and again it’s in a refurbished old colonial building with central garden and huge hummingbirds drinking from the flowers. Oh, and it’s oh so quiet at night, we’re happy bunnies.
The next morning we wandered around town, found the beautiful main square (Parque Calderon), had breakfast and visited a Spanish School nearby. We had decided to take some more lessons, although didn’t fancy the standard group deal from 8-12 every morning. The school seemed pretty flexible, as it’s low season here, and we signed up for three hours in the mornings, concentrating on conversation. Here’s a photo of the bandstand in the main square near the school. Occasionally there are bands playing music here, but more usually it’s the preferred spot for break dancing practice!
The Spanish lessons went quite well, although they’re hard work, and we had the afternoons free to look around the city. We took a tour bus to get an idea of the layout and some of the buildings were even more beautiful viewed from the top deck.
We reached a beautiful viewpoint, Mirador de Turi, a couple of miles south of the centre (and luckily it wasn’t raining!).
It was the week after the 455th anniversary of Cuenca’s foundation and luckily for us there were several events. We went to three free music concerts and a ‘Mother Earth’ festival celebrating healthy living, but we still managed to lunch on salchipapa, basically sausage and chips :’) There were several native folk dances, buskers, and various stalls (but not many tourists).
Here’s Diane discussing the merits of eating guinea pig with a young student (however it’s unlikely she was negotiating to buy two).
We had heard previously that Panama hats are made in Ecuador – Cuenca seems to be the epicentre of production. As well as making new hats, which can cost $100 or so, local tradesmen refurbish them: it’s big business. We even went to the Panama Hat museum and were shown how the top of the hat is moulded.
As usual, the area around the city’s market is fascinating. Here are some of the local fruit and vegetable vendors in their traditional dress.
Another interesting conundrum for us was to work out what this confection consisted of. They’re ice cream cones, but it would have melted too quickly, so it couldn’t be ice cream. Diane had to give up and ask her Spanish teacher – it is meringue, and both adults and children can be seen enjoying them in the parks and outside churches.
The street art is fascinating too.
Cuenca is a good place, if perhaps just a little too touristy for our taste, although there is a nice microbrewery J We’re heading to Loja, a few hours south of here, and then we’ll pick up a bus for the trip to Peru. And we’ll soon be celebrating six months of our trip !
We got the day bus back from the coast to Quito where it was raining and cold, such a change from the hot weather at the coast. The following morning we took a taxi to the massive new southern bus station in Quito known as Quitumbe, which is a modern, purpose-built bus terminal set on a green-field site, and is a marked contrast to most bus terminals we have encountered (almost airport-like). Elsewhere, the various companies try to sell you tickets as you are walking along, shouting the names of destinations, crowding round you in groups, trying to get you to buy their tickets. Here, it was a model of calm, although the ticket sellers, behind their windows, couldn’t resist bending down to the little slot at the bottom of the glass screen and shouting a few destination names. Banos Express suited us nicely, and we duly handed over our $3.50 each for the three and a half hour trip to Banos, a small town with hot spring baths. Sounds a bit like Bath, our home town. Bus travel in Ecuador is generally a dollar an hour, so a ten hour journey will cost you $10. We got to Banos, about 90 miles away, for about the same as a ticket into Bath from our house on our local bus service, a distance of some 1.5 miles. The journey was amazingly scenic with views of Cotopaxi volcano with snow on its summit and lush and fertile valleys. At Banos we arrived at a bus terminal in the middle of town and for once an easy walk to our hostel where we get a nice room with a balcony and views of the hills and waterfall.
After replenishing ourselves with delicious coffee we toured town, which apart from a nice cathedral and central square seems to consist mainly of restaurants and adventure tour operators offering any activity you can imagine.
Here’s a picture of Paul trying to decide which trips to do. You can white-water raft, mountain bike, hack around on the volcano on an ATV, go paragliding, or head off to the jungle in the Amazon basin for a spot of wildlife-watching.
Whilst we decided how adventurous to be we visited the Stray Dog Brewery, where the brewer uses water from the local natural spring near the town’s waterfall called “Agua de la Vida”. He even transports the water to his brewery by bicycle. More importantly, great beer!
Next day we visited the town baths – well it would be churlish to refuse. The large bath is nicely warm, the small one in the front is very very hot, and the far (blue) one is icy cold. The idea, so we were told, was to alternate between the baths – surprisingly we didn’t spend much time in the cold bath! We would have stayed there all evening, but strangely the level of the water in the warm bath was reducing – we supposed as it was near to closing time. We loved it – a great experience.
The next day we felt like taking some exercise and decided to hike up a couple of the nearby hills. Somehow in the excitement we forgot that Banos is at about 1500m, so with the steep incline it was hard work! But we reached some great viewpoints.
Another day we took a bus down the “waterfall route” in a Chiva bus, consisting of tourists packed onto hard seats and listening to extremely loud Ecuadorian rap music – all very entertaining.
Not to lose out on the adventure side of things the bus stopped from time to time to allow us to see the waterfalls at close range. We took one of these odd looking contraptions across the ravine to view the falls close up.
The final stop was to walk to the base of the Devil’s Waterfall – hundreds of steps and an amazing force of water.
Banos was a great place to spend a few days, and even some of the locals found the touristy shops interesting!
We are continuing south on our journey – next stop Cuenca.
We were thinking of nipping out to the west coast before heading south, and the ever-helpful Crystal from our travel company in the Galapagos recommended Canoa, and particularly Hostal Baloo, where, as well as accommodation, they do surfing lessons and yoga J So, we boarded the overnight bus in Quito at 11:30pm, and arrived in Canoa at 7:30am the following morning. This was not really a peaceful night’s sleep. Here’s me looking very glad to have reached our beach hut home for the week.
Canoa was a small fishing village until recently, and then surfers arrived, attracted by it’s beach breaks. There used to be only a ferry connecting it to the nearest big town, but about 18 months ago a causeway was built. Since that time, the town has doubled in size, and is popular with weekenders also. We’re here for Easter, so heaven only knows what it’ll be like. At the moment, though, it’s quiet, with a fantastic empty beach.
Diane likes it, anyway. We went walking on the beach every morning, before the heat really kicked in at about noon.
We really did try surfing and yoga, too ! Ignoring the fact that I am, I think, a man, we did both with Betty Surf and Yoga, based at our hostel. Here we are on our first surfing lessons, trying to master the pop: that is, to move from prone on the board to standing in a single, fluid motion. Diane decides staying on both knees is quite stable actually. I’ve got my right flat foot on the board here, and now I’m wondering how to get off my left knee. Well, it didn’t happen in the first lesson, but I did manage it on the second, helped by Roxy, the instructor’s surfing dog, who kept trying to climb onto my board. It probably would have helped to have at least one animal on board that knew what they were doing.
And here I am, surfing with style. Bad style. Lord only knows what I’m doing with my hands.
And here’s Diane emerging from the Pacific.
As you might expect, the sunsets here are spectacular, so here’s one.
The tide was getting bigger and bigger during the week, and reached it’s peak over the Easter weekend itself. It went through some of the sun shelters on the beach, and down towards the Malecon, the dirt road along the back of the beach lined with restaurants and bars.
All good fun. Nobody really seemed to mind, but then I suppose it happens fairly regularly. We had a lovely time, but heavens it was hot, and the mosquitoes are both prolific and active, so we’re off back to Quito briefly, and then down to Baños, in the Andes. Here’s a final sunset anyway.
Oh, where to start ! We’d anticipated that the Galapagos Islands would be one of the highlights of our trip, and so it was. The variety and abundance of wildlife here is astonishing. We decided that there wasn’t any point skimping on a trip as expensive as this (and, believe me, the Galapagos is expensive), so we arrived in Quito on a Sunday night and spent Monday trotting round the travel agents trying to decide whether we should go on a cruise, or be land-based. We’d also done some googling around, and come across a company called Galakiwi offering land-based cruises, with space departing in a few days time. They offered a good mix of activities with an expert guide, so we went with them, and on the following Saturday, we flew to San Cristobal Island in the Galapagos Archipelago. The itinerary would also take us to the islands of Floreana, Isabella and Santa Cruz, travelling by boat. By way of light relief, our hotel room on San Cristobal used to be the island’s disco, so it has a bar, sadly no longer in use, a cloakroom and two separate toilets. It must have been a bit of a crush on a Saturday night.
Anyway, rather than bang on about how we got around and where we stayed, here’s some photographs of the wildlife and other notable sights. We took about 800 photographs during the week, and these are only a few of them. Wildlife is everywhere, and it doesn’t seem too concerned about people. Of the islands, 97% is national park. Here’s a sea lion.
The weather was pretty much perfect for our trips between the islands, and also for the snorkelling we did. This is Kicker Rock, where we snorkelled with Galapagos Sharks in the prominent gully between the two parts of the rock. I’d never seen that many sharks in one place before: there must have been 60 or 70 of them as well as turtles, rays, inquisitive sea lions and massive shoals of fish. The abundance is amazing.
We saw a large pod of dolphin as we journeyed between San Cristobal and Floreana. They played in front of the boat for half an hour or so.
On Floreana, we ventured into the highlands and saw this short-eared owl.
Frigate birds are everywhere. This one’s got his pouch inflated and heart-shaped!
And, of course, marine iguanas, one of the Galapagos’ iconic animals. They get everywhere, and we saw them in town, on remote islands, and also swimming in the water whilst we were snorkelling.
Careful, now. Don’t seen many signs like this in the UK 
Another iconic animal, the giant tortoise.
They’re making great efforts to increase the populations of tortoises: here’s a small giant at a breeding centre. The young are released back to the island of their ancestors at 4 or 5 years old.
Here’s Diane wondering what life would be like carrying around such a huge shell.
We walked up and round the caldera of Volcan Sierra Negra, on Isabella Island. It’s reportedly the second-largest caldera in the world, after Ngorogoro in Africa. It was a seven hour round trip, and just after we turned round to come home, it rained. Not slightly, but really, really heavily, and for a couple of hours. By the end, all the paths had flooded, and we were wading through four-inch deep water. It took me three days to dry my shoes, even with the assistance of the tropical sun.
Anyway, here we are looking dry. It started to rain about ten minutes later.
Next to our hotel on Isabella was a salt lagoon, with flamingos.
The tortoises roam wild on parts of Santa Cruz island, like this guy here on the road.
The blue-footed booby. Enough said. We resisted the urge to buy any merchandise, t-shirts, badges, hats, aprons, anything, which made a play on the word booby, though there was plenty to be had.
A Sally Lightfoot crab, and more sea lions.
No visible animals, but a beautiful beach: Tortuga Bay, on Santa Cruz.
The fisherman land their catches in Puerto Ayora, on Santa Cruz, and the sea lions and pelicans know it, and do well. The brown sign in the background says don’t feed the animals
And here’s Lonesome George, the last of his kind.
We stayed on in Santa Cruz for another five days, and I went diving. Unbelievable. The number of different species, and the abundance of them, were really fantastic. I’ve never dived anywhere before where you needed four different signs for the sharks you might see, and we saw them all, including the famous circling hammerheads. All in all, a fantastic, fantastic experience. Unfortunately, back to Quito now, and then to Canoa, on the coast.
After our restful week in the country we bussed it to Cali, the biggest city in Colombia after Bogota. An easy ride of two buses and only 3 hours and we found ourselves in the big city in the mid-day heat. Later on we wandered around, and found nothing much of interest other than a display of painted cats next to some huge bamboo.
It seems people come to Cali to party and salsa, but as we weren’t really interested in either activity we went to an air-conditioned shopping mall. People who know us might think that was strange, but Diane desperately needed new shoes due to misuse on an earlier volcano. We had attempted to find a pair in smaller towns, but this had only resulted in her being shown to the traditional women’s section – leather shoes/boots with high heels, not so great for our activities. Result, nice new cheap comfy pair! Next day we hightailed it out of the heat.
Another three hours by bus found us in colonial old Popayan, many of the buildings and churches have been tastefully restored after a devastating earthquake in 1983. At 1800 metres the climate is mild, although the white buildings reflect the sunlight and there is the odd heavy shower at this time of year. While we were there, in an effort to do some exercise, we booked on a cycling trip. A small lorry takes you up to a local hot springs, and then you cycle back, 34km, mainly downhill. When we arrived, considerably higher than Popayan, there was a cool breeze sweeping across the springs, and we almost didn’t go in. Eventually, Diane tested the waters, and shamed is into donning our swimmies and soaking for an hour or so. The water didn’t smell, which is odd for a mineral bath in my experience.
Then we rode back down to town. On the way, we stopped in a little town for some food and spotted a bit of impromptu pig-herding going on.
They were remaking some of the road, where it had fallen into the river, so at one point Diane was on one side of the road works and I was on the other while they dumped tons of gravel. Here she is emerging after the gravel had been flattened.
The following morning, we started our two-day trip to Ecuador. We had decided to break our journey in Colombia, near the border, so we didn’t have to do any buses at night, which is a bit unsafe, we are told. Here I am looking a bit frazzled, about 3 hours into the journey, stopped at a little café in a little town I can’t remember the name of. I’m sort of pointing at it, but on the scale of the map my finger is about 300 miles across.
The road, the Pan-American Highway, is spectacular, passing through steep valleys in the Andes. It’s also reasonably narrow and knackered in places, and carrying a lot of heavy traffic. Our bus driver was having a fairly good try at hitting his schedule, which meant overtaking heavy lorries on blind bends while accelerating hard uphill. This style of driving is quite, er, exciting for the passenger. Here’s a picture taken through the window of the coach: the road is visible on the other side of the valley.
After a night in a little town called Pasto, we set off again for the border. We took a taxi to the bus station, where we were, as usual, set upon by salespersons for the bus companies, all of whose buses were leaving “now” (Us: “¿A que hora sale el bus ?” Salesperson: “Ya !!”) We ended up in what is basically a people carrier run by a company called SuperTaxis, and were deposited in the real border town, Ipiales, an hour or so later. There, we took a taxi to the border, where we were, as usual, set upon by money-changers, so we changed our remaining pesos for dollars, checked out of Colombia, and walked over the bridge into Ecuador. Once we’d checked in there, we took a taxi to the bus station in nearby Tulcan, where we were, as usual, set upon by salespersons for the bus companies, although with a new trick here: they open the taxi door before you’ve got out and shout the names of towns at you (“Quito? Quito? Quito?”) We ended up on a bus which had every modern amenity, according to the salesperson, although the toilet didn’t actually work. It was a five hour ride to Quito, including stops for drugs searches, and we got there at about 5pm, eight hours after leaving Pasto. Here’s Diane about to walk over the bridge into Ecuador, our ninth country of the trip.
So we arrived in Quito, at 2850m, which is pretty high, let me tell you. The sun is fierce here, even when it’s cloudy. We had a wander around: this is the Basilica in the old town. Like most cities in Latin America, businesses cluster here: all of the shoe shops are in one area, for example, or clothes shops. Well, the arches under the Basilica is home to a row of electronics shops, so you can pop in to church and buy a power transistor at the same time.
Nearby is another church, San Francisco. While we were admiring it, we were approached by a group of students studying tourism and asked if we would be interviewed by them in English, on video, for their course work. Happy to oblige, they set up with the interviewer reading from cue cards while another operated the camera. ”What is your name?” ”How old are you ?” (Quite old, said Diane, flummoxing them completely). ”What is your favourite Ecuadorian food ?” (Guinea pig with potatoes, said Diane, never having had it in her life).
Finally, we headed off up the teleferiqo, a cable car which runs from the city to the top of a nearby mountain at 4100m, to get the view. Here’s my wife (complete with recent $3 haircut) with some old bloke and his hat, Quito spread out below them.
We’re here for a few days more, then we’re off to the Galapagos for two weeks, so we may be off the air until we return. Stay tuned.
When we arrived in Bogota we had no idea where to go next other than “head south”, so it was good to hear a number of people talk fondly of an area called the Zona Cafetera (coffee country), about eight hours bus ride south-west of Bogota on narrow twisty roads – great scenery and many a steep drop down to the valley floor. The road is quite startling if you’re in a large coach which is trying to overtake two 16-wheel lorries at the same time uphill around a blind bend: but this is normal for around here. They’re building a new (straighter) road, as this is the main road to the west of the country, so lucky you if you travel that way in the next year or three. When arrived at our accommodation in Salento we found they had messed up the reservation; after telling us precisely why their booking system didn’t work (it’s crap, I could have told them that), they suggested we stay at an alternative place down the road. After initial irritation, we agreed of course (it was getting late by then). When we woke up the next morning at “El Rancho”, a working dairy farm, we realised we were in the middle of the beautiful countryside, just the birdsong and the milk cooler to interrupt our thoughts. Such a change from the busy city.
After a couple more nights we moved into “town” to be nearer the main square, restaurants and bars. Just about every restaurant around here serves trout every day, so delicious that Diane has it four days on the trot. The tonnage of trout served every day in Salento suggest it isn’t all line-caught in the local river, the Rio Quindio.
There is a beautiful area near here called the Valle de Cocora, and the guidebook promised hummingbirds and 60m high wax palms. Transport is provided by local guys driving jeeps – although we’re not sure why they don’t run buses as it’s only about 20 minutes on a (mostly) paved road. The guys take enormous pleasure in packing as many tourists into each jeep as is humanly possible. About the only advantage we find to looking slightly older than many of the travellers round here is that we usually get shuffled to a seat straight away. Except for the one time when the usual 8-seater needed somehow to carry 13, and Paul and a couple of others had to ride shotgun hanging on the rear (don’t tell the insurance company!). It was so nice we made the jeep journey twice, then walked through mud, across the river on rickety bridges, past the wax palms and up into the cloud forest. The scenery and the hummingbird reserve more than made up for the effort and dirt!
Another day we visited a local coffee farm, where after lengthy explanation in Colombian-Spanish from the owner (not a hope for us to understand much, but luckily there were pictures) we were invited to pick some coffee – apparently experienced workers can pick up to 100kg in a day, but not much luck on our part.
All of this was interspersed by daily visits to our favourite coffee shop and, one evening, the cheapest meal around – £2.25 for soup, a main course, fresh juice and a banana (the latter we fed to the hummingbirds at our hostel). The main course choice included, of course, trout.
Salento is a beautiful, sleepy town except at weekends when city people descend to hang around, walk up and down the main street looking at souvenirs, drink bottles of rum and dance the salsa. That is, apart from the few who arrived on Sunday morning for a cycle race, most on new bikes with not a trace of mud to be seen. The 9am prompt start advertised on the posters ran a bit late, ahem. Oh, and ponchos are a big deal here for the men of the town, popular and practical when faced with hot days and cold evenings and nights.
All in all, we enjoyed Salento immensely: a lovely town in fantastic countryside. We’re off to Popayan soon on our way down south to Ecuador, but we’ll stop off in Cali for a day or two to break the journey.
Our flight to Bogota in Colombia is at 11:05, so we’re up at the airport by about 8:30, and duly check in for our one hour flight. How optimistic of us. We lounge about in the departure lounge until our flight shows as delayed, expected to leave at 14:25. It slips a bit further, and then shows as cancelled, so we join the queue at the gate. There are absolutely no Avianca staff to be seen, and the mood in the crowd is getting ugly: they’ve been waiting for five hours, and now no flight. Eventually, one poor bloke turns up, and is completely mobbed by people shouting at him. He can’t say anything, there’s too much noise, everyone is shouting at once, and some of them are pretty angry. An airport security guy tries to help, but it’s still no use, so he gets on the radio and a few minutes later five armed police turn up. They, in turn, get on the radio and arrange for someone from Avianca who actually knows what is happening to come down and explain. In the crowd are all sorts of people with connecting flights to all over the place, including a pair with a Machu Picchu trek booked who have already missed their connection to Lima. Here’s a picture of the mob after it has calmed down, with the police standing around discreetly in case it goes bad again. We’re at Gate 23A, having been to 23A, 31, 16, 31 and 23A again during the course of the day.
Eventually, the only passengers left are those for Colombia only. We’re all bunched at gate 23 A, and get to chatting, swapping coins in various currencies, and taking photographs like the one below. We’re surprisingly cheerful, really.
We eventually trot back to gate 31, get a free sandwich, and join the 18:30 flight to Bogota. We queue a bit more in the airport on arrival, then hop in a taxi to our hostel, which is in the old district of La Candelaria. It’s now pushing 9pm, and we hit another snag as our taxi grinds to halt due to a traffic problem on Carretera 4, one of the main routes through the district. He improvises, but in the end he drops us about two blocks away from our hostel at about 10pm. It had been a long day, but even so it occurred to me that we were now walking, late at night, through downtown Bogota, with no clear idea where we were going: a situation we usually take great pains to avoid. We hurried up the road, heart rates rising, mostly because Bogota is at 2600 metres and Panama at about 10 metres, until two local women asked us where we were going, telling us that the streets were “muy peligroso”, very dangerous, at night. We told them Hostel Alegria, and they walked us the remaining block or so, for which we were very grateful. A top day’s travelling, all in all J
The next day, we content ourselves with checking out the local area, getting hold of a map of the city, and trying the local food. Here I am eating a bean stew, which is delicious, but has somewhat of an, errm, effect on me later in the day. It was however more tasty than another speciality: hot chocolate and cheese, where the idea was to drop chunks of soggy cheese-like substance into the very sweet drink, which neither of us was really keen on !
Later, we find our way to the Bogota Beer Company, and drink something which isn’t lager, hoorah !
The main square is named after Simon Bolivar who led Colombia to independence and became President in the 1820s. Today it seems pigeons rule the area.
The following day we take the cable car to Monserrate, a Catholic church on the mountain above Bogota. Great views, and the weather is sunny.
We really like Bogota. It’s got a real energy to it, and there’s always tons going on. We managed to go to two concerts while we were there, one free (latin rock, a band called Veka) and one paid (Claudia Gomez, a Colombian guitarist and singer). In La Candelaria, there are many museums, exhibition halls, concert venues and libraries, so we also go to the Museum of Bogota, which is showing an exhibition of photos of Bogota; the Military Museum; and the Botero Museum, which is dedicated to Fernando Botero, a famous Colombian painter. All of the objects and people in his paintings are larger than life and slightly plump, like the Mona Lisa and the still life with fruit below. Apologies for the photographic quality.
 
We also sign up for a city tour with Bogota Bike Tours, which was absolutely fantastic. Mike, the owner and guide, took us to parts of Bogota which we would never have seen for ourselves. The fruit and vegetable market was fascination, and we tried many odd-looking but delicious fruits. This is a guanabana.
And believe it or not, this is a vegetable. I couldn’t eat a whole one, though.
We also tour the cemetery. A number of the persons buried here are believed to be able to help the living, and their tombs are kept spruce by supplicants. This is the grave of Leo Siegfried Kopp, who founded the Bavaria Brewing Company in Bogota in 1889, and did many good works whilst alive, not least brewing beer. It’s still going, but it’s part of SABMiller now, one of the world’s largest brewers and bottlers, now headquartered in London, England.
Whilst dodging traffic and pedestrians (no worries about cycling on the pavements/sidewalks here) we come across many murals, here is one with one of the fitter members of our team showing his flexibility!
Here we are looking less fit!
We finish up with coffee of course, and the barista is an artist!
On our last day in Bogota we decide to walk further around town. We come across this set of dancers being filmed, and they must be professionals as they’re smiling a lot and appear cool in the blazing sunshine.
We walk along Septimazo, the main street, which is closed to traffic as it’s Sunday (good idea – why can’t we do this in the UK?) The whole area is a mass of pedestrians, cyclists and rollerbladers in addition to the usual people selling anything you can imagine from memory sticks to emeralds! Here’s a great example of the locals enjoying their day of leisure.
The Sunday flea market was selling everything from clothes to gas masks, plus all the sweet confections the Colombians love. We reckon we need to restrict our time here or we’ll put on far too much weight and have to buy new clothes, maybe from the flea market!
All in all, a great week in the capital city – off to the country for a rest.
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