South America

What did hostelling look like?

Lots of folks wanted to know what hostelling looks like, in South America and beyond.

Well, here is a shot of the common room at the Platypus hostal in Bogota, Colombia. It's located quite centrally downtown, and is a travel favorite - hands down. Plus, free coffee. Can you beat that? Nah.

Pictured here on the right is Elliot, a Jewish/Iraqi (I believe him) guy from London who dated a different girl every night I saw him, and I saw him at least 15 nights, in 3 different cities. Yes, he was hairier than me, thanks to his heritage. Next to him is his roommate from Bogota, who was a real cool dude that spoke only a bit of English. That kind of cracked me up, because Elliot, try as he might, was true to his British colours in having a difficult time with the Spanish language.

I do have to hand it to the brits we met travelling - though their accents in English make it damn near impossible for them to speak understandable spanish (and English, hehehe), they really do try. Our T(ravel)-buddy Beth has been working on it for months, and is just about to open her own cafe in Peru and use her newfound language skills. Andy, our friend from London by way of Bolivia who cheated by dating a girl from Spain, was speaking some almost picture perfect Spanish, especially for a man hailing from those isolated isles of Britania.

On the same note, we did have some American friends who knew Spanish, but spoke so bad we have impressions for years. One guy sounded a bit like Pauly Shore once he got going, and not in a good way (is there one?)

West Carribbean airlines bites the dust, again

Do not fly West Carribbean airlines. Repeat: DO NOT fly West Carribbean airlines.

While kicking around the idea of going to San Andres, a little island between Colombia and Nicaragua that we decided wasn't worth the trouble and cost, we also thought about flying this airline (the only airline) between the little islands out there.

Luckily Liz checked the crash statistics, and found out they had a fatal crash no more than 2 years ago. Our decision to drop this travel plan was a good one, because the single plane this airline operates between islands in the carribbean was considered unsafe and decommissioned just before we would have tried to make our trip. Yikes. (picture from Amaszonas airlines in Bolivia, who - despite their best efforts, did not kill me)

get a big motorcycle

if you want to bike across south america, you want something like this Yamaha to do it. Didn't meet the owner, but he was staying in the room across from mine for one night.

Also, don't forget, you might want to know how to either fix a bike, or have a partner who does.

I am a youth

It is now official, I am still a youth.

Two days ago, I became the proud owner of a newly minted International Youth Travel Card. Apparently, you can buy these until you are 25 years of age, which I happily am not and will never be (till the 27th).

This card allows me to get fantastic airfare back to the states, and more importantly, reminds people of my official youthful status. When shall I return to the states, you ask?

My return route depends in which city I am thought to be studying the law. I can say this, I will be in Colombia and Ecuador until around mid-July, at which time I will begin a mad dash home. The possible routes:
-Bogotá-BsAs-CHI
-Quito-BsAs-CHI
-Quito-NYC
-Quito-CHI

Time will indeed tell. Youth card 4-evah.

Machu Picchu for UNDER US$100, it can be done, here is how

The holy grail of South American Travel: Machu Picchu.

If you haven´t already been there, you are going to go there at some point in your life, it is nearly inevitable. When you go, Machu Picchu will attempt to take as much money from your wallet as possible, in a very short period of time. Íf you try and fight it, it will suck you in like a ruinous Incan money vaccuum made of stone.

It does not have to be this way.

If you wish to go to Machu Picchu in 2 days, for under US$35 a day, or US$70 per person for the trip, do read on. Otherwise, wait patiently until the time when you do plan to go to Machu Picchu, then read awa
y.

Life in Peril Volume 1: Bus from Uyuni to La Paz

CLANK. SMASH. BANG. Crick, crick crick, BOOM!

These are some of the choice sounds of nondescript metal objects smashing into the bottom of our bus at 3am.

Liz, teeth literally chattering, slowly and deliberately asked me for my thin, sarong-like towel to use as a blanket, in an attempt to keep some warmth near her body. She sat next to the bus window, which was now frozen on the inside.

Like a scene out of titanic, our bus was stuck on ice, and we were slowly freezing inside. We didn´t know it at the time, but we were about to endure 8 hours of sub-zero temperatures.

Life in Peril Volume 2: La Paz to Copacabana

It sounded like we had been hit by a grenade.

One quick pop, an explosion, and suddenly our bus was careening out of control. In the 2nd seat, I saw the bus driver pull a frantic manuever as the people on all sides of me screamed for god to help them. The indigenous lady next to me, whom I had a lovely conversation with earlier in the ride, grabbed onto my arm for some semblance of safety.

Our bus had just experience a severe tire blowout, one of the more common ways to get seriously injured while travelling in Bolivia.

Though thoroughly spooked, no one on the bus was hurt this time. Liz, who had a rear seat, was bear hugged by the lady sitting next to her, who obviously feared the worst.

Lucky that no serious damage was done, the bus crew fixed up the tire and took us down to the straights, where our bus boarded a boat. I can´t make this stuff up, so I took a picture.

My first mistake - Salar de Uyuni

"No Busses till 6:30," muttered the world´s most uninterested office clerk, as I attempted to huff what little air was available into my lungs. There I was, just as I had feared, stuck once again in Potosí (my least favorite town in the universe); except this time I had all my personal belongings on me and it was a dreaded Sunday.

The adventure actually began for me at 7am that same day in Sucre, as I arrived lugging my bags at the bus station. I had prepaid my bus ticket to Potosí at the hostal, planning to catch the said noon bus immediately out of Potosí and on to Uyuni, my destination town. One foot out of the cab, a bus company lady grabbed my bags shouting "Potosí, Potosí" and started walking up to her office. I calmly explained that we had already bought tickets, and she calmly convinced me that I had a ticket for her company.

Of course, she was lying. She started to write out new tickets, and even though I was still half-asleep I could tell something wasn´t right. Regardless, she tossed the huge bags on top of a ramshackle bus, literally, and my travel companion Liz and I were about to board.

The Great Escape from Sucre

I know I haven´t posted anything new in a while, and I have good reason. It is really hard to actually get your stuff together and leave cities in which you are treated like family.

I love my highly dysfunctional Sucre family. I´ll follow with some more specific posts, but Sucre has been a great experience, and an all around fantastic time. Despite early reservations about living and vounteering in Bolivia thanks to some bad experiences in Cochabamba, the last month or so has been what I can only describe as a life-changing experience.

On your right is Asunción, one of my new best friends. She´s 2. She has no parents, and calls me "mommy." The experience at Psichopedagogico has really made my trip "vale la pena" (worthwhile) so far, and sorry about the gratuitous Spanish insertion. Also, Liz and I have been lucky enough to have great friends in Sucre like Joel, Beth, Gustav, Lydia, and so on that have made this city, at times, almost as much of a black hole as Buenos Aires. More on them to follow as well.

Tomorrow, we take off early for Uyuni Via Potosí, to hopefully catch a one day salt flats tour. Then we go back to La Paz, and on to the Amazon Basin. Things should get good, and I plan on getting a new digicam, so stay tuned...

How to be an American Backpacker in South America

Dear South American Blog Writer Sir,

I am an American (like, from the USA), and want to backpack, or live and study, in South America. What next?

A great question. It´s one I asked myself, and google, many times before I left for my trip, but never got a clear answer. The answer is - money. Well, click ahead, and I´ll offer my wisdom-