The Last One

I've been back in London for 3 days now, and i sit here writing this final blog post in the midst of a messy room and in between one of many catch up lunches/coffees/dinners, with the cat roaming the room wondering who the hell i am.

To say its weird to be back is an understatements, all a bit sad! I was away for exactly 8 months, and they were 8 months of essentially seeing whether i could successfully start a new life all by myself. I remember before I left being apprehensive, but now i only look back on my time in Argentina (and travelling) with only good memories (well, apart from the amazon rebels bit).

So my advice to anyone going out there to live, or for anyone else going on a year abroad, is as follows: Its a great city, and i'm sure youll feel at home - but don't go with any expectations, because if you do you have nothing to compare your experiences against, you will make the best of things and end up having an amazing time.
Keep a blog - this whole catalogue of events and progress has been the one of the most important things i've done, because in a 5, 10, 20 years i'll be able to look back and relive the year. Sometimes, pictures arent enough (although take loads of those too).

In some ways it feels like i'd never left, and sometimes wake up wondering where I am - weird to think that just two months ago I was still working in the BA office. Maybe i'll just chalk it down to jetlag.

Its been a pleasure - and thanks for reading (if you had't i would probably have given up half way!).

Much love,

Joe

                                  

Episode 34: Cusco and machu piccu

I write this having just boarded the plane to lima, which left half an hour early with no warning - imagine our shock sitting in the VIP lounge (courtesy of Eli's gold card) and getting a 'last call' over the tannoy not even having gone through security yet!

Anyway, so we arrived in Cusco and spent a lot of time at chabad due to shavuot and Shabbat - it's a bit cold there and obviously also 99% Israelis but the food was awesome! They actually have some live in Israeli volunteers aswell, which I would imagine is a great (free) way of learning spanish.

Cusco itself is a world apart from Bolivia - it reminded me of Rome with it's cobbled streets, coffee ships and angry drivers. They have great little markets where we bought some genuinely Peruvian gifts/clothes - in fact, having travelled most of South America it has been so far the best place to buy gifts (take note!). 

So, on Sunday, we headed over to Aguas Calientes which is the small town at the bottom of Machu Piccu mountain having already stopped off at Sacred Valley...

...and despite getting not much sleep (our hotel was conveniently placed next to a ridiculously loud amazon tributary river) we got up at 4.30 to walk up the mountain. Now, we'd heard from people less sporty than us that the inca trail was hard but not that hard, so we were expecting a leisurely hour walk to the top.

It's not. It's up 1000's of cobbled stairs that go vertically up the mountain. Literally everyone takes the bus, and that's probably why - we were climbing stairs for 45 minutes through the jungle getting killed by yet more Mosquitos (bastards) and only passed another 3 people doing the same thing. It was a serious quad/cardio workout, like preseason training come early. Eventually we arrived in a sweaty, exhausted horrible heap at the top - but it was worth it:

The never ending walk...like something out of temple run!

We had a reasonably competent tour guide who told us, amongst other things, that the main achievement of the inca's was managing to build such a structurally impressive town on the top of such a steep mountain, incorporating sturdy architecture with (at the time) impressive facades. We were there for most of the day (we also did the two hour sun gate hike) before heading back to the hot springs (i.e. the worlds grimmest water) and finally, very burnt, back to cusco  and now off to Lima to splash out for the last two nights of the trip on a crazy hotel for Eli's birthday.

Yours,

Thunderthighs 

 

Episode 33: The Amazon Rainforest and La Paz

So before the whole debacle that Nick wrote about last time we actually had a day in La Paz in which we did quadbiking which is a great way to see the city. Despite both of us being very sporty (nick also does cross country), we spent most of the time struggling to get up stairs before getting massively out of breath due to the altitude. Or maybe it's all the chips. We'll go for the altitude.

After that we got our, err, 'aircraft' to the amazon where we immediately fell in love with the tiny town Rurrenabaque (see overly amazing £15 a night hotel, below). The rainforest itself is awesome in every sense of the word - we spent most of our days on the motorboat gliding through the amazon river with our guide Nilo seeing various wildlife, anaconda hunting (no luck though), seeing crocodile eyes at night, piranha fishing, sunset/sunrise gazing and swimming with dolphins to name but a few - all amazing things that you sort of never think you'll see. There's actually a picture of me on nicks camera crouching next to a croc, although apparently the guide said it was very dangerous after - whoops!

So before I finish I should probably say something about the amazon escape. It was really scary - and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Essentially i had to put on a brave face but actually was really worried inside that if we were caught by the guerrillas it was my head on the line or more importantly if anyone got hurt in the whole process it would have been my fault. Unfortunately wasn't exactly the safest of terrains. Now that it's all over I'm glad i did something - we could easily still be there and maybe/probably even been hurt by the protesters. There's not really much more I can add to what nick said - it's not something I look back on with fond memories but I guess the silver lining is that for everyone involved there are a lot of positives to take. Lets just hope Diego, the 16 year old, is all ok and puts his new found fortune to good use....

...and not on women, as he joked!

Interlude 22: the great escape

THE GREAT ESCAPE

For reasons that will soon become clear, I have asked Joe to let me write this blog. Even as I (literally) peel the last tick off my body and throw away the contents of my mud-soaked day pack, the events of yesterday seem a little surreal...

During our long journey back from our Bolivian Amazon tour (with 9 people squashed into a 6-man vehicle), we hit a roadblock. Now this was no London style roadblock marked with cones, patrolled by police and with clear diversion signs; this was a Bolivian roadblock: about 100 people blocking the road screaming and shouting, wielding sticks and machetes and charging down anyone (whether walking or in a vehicle) who attempted to bypass the blockade.

Abandoned by our vehicle, we attempted to negotiate with the protesters, explaining we were tourists and had no issue with their politics (they were supposedly protesting against a local school being closed down). When our attempts at conciliation were met by nothing but increased aggression (they hurled rocks at us), we backpedalled quickly and joined the ever growing group of tourists huddled helplessly a few hundred metres away. Whilst the Spanish speakers among us asked around for alternative roads (there were none), pleaded (again) with the protesters, called tour agencies etc., Joe was engaged in an intense discussion with a 16 year old Bolivian boy who lived on the street. After half-an-hour he announced to our group (that had grown to 50), that he had convinced this kid to guide us through the dense rainforest around the blockade for the sum of 1000 Bolivianos (a lot in local currency - especially for a child of that age - but equivalent to only £100 between us all). Even with the money on offer, convincing the kid (and his family) to accept the offer was no easy task - they were very scared of the potential consequences if the protesters discovered he was helping us.

And so, one by one (so as not to alert the machete wielding crazies), we slid into the depths of the jungle. Not long into the trek, I was - unbeknownst to Joe - helping a young family at the back of the group, when we fell behind and became stranded. After discovering I was missing, Joe gallantly ran back to find me (lost and dripping wet after taking a wrong turn into a swamp). And so began our journey: already exhausted from the long boat and jeep ride to that point, and carrying our backpacks and day packs, we (literally) hacked our way through the mosquito-ridden Amazon rainforest in the mid-afternoon sun. We waded through knee-deep swamps, carried little kids and clambered over barbed wire (all the while silent to avoid detection by the protesters).

After 2 hours, burnt, dehydrated, scratched, bruised and aching, our group of 50-something tourists (almost all strangers at the beginning of our adventure) emerged from the forest onto a dirt track on the other side of the blockade. As we all collapsed at the end of the hike: caked in mud but safe, smiling (and yearning for a shower), it felt - as someone said - like the exodus from Egypt. As we bundled into taxis to take us into town, everyone that passed us took a moment to thank Joe. I have no doubt that if it wasn't for him - we'll call him Moses to continue the exodus metaphor(!) - we would almost certainly still be helplessly waiting out the blockade (which is apparently due to continue for another four days).

And so, Joe...as I sit here nursing my hangover from our celebratory drinks last night (which fortunately dulled the pain of our little expedition), I have an overpowering urge to say something cute and mushy about how you courageously led 50 people out of danger. But this is the World Wide Web, so I'll stick to a really heartfelt thank you - from me and from the 49 others you led through the Amazonian jungle. As you emerged from that clearing, makeshift staff in hand, looking as Beiber as ever with THAT hairdo and THAT baseball cap, I felt a bit like the supporting actor in the latest far-fetched Hollywood movie. I don't know what to say other than - I owe you one mate. Not quite sure how I'm going to pay you back...guiding you round a roadblock in Barnet doesn't quite feel like a fair deal...

Nick

Episode 32: The Uyuni Salt Flats

We've been plagued by altitude sickness (5,000 metres above sea level), endured the Bolivian "roads" whilst squashed into a 4x4, cringed at our driver's outrageously perverted sense of humour and ended each day snuggled up in all our clothes, dosed up on pain killers and sleeping pills and craving a shower, electricity (for more than 2 hours per day), pillows made out of more than paper and beds made out of something other than salt (no joke - we stayed in a salt "hotel" on our last night!)

Despite all this, we have had the most unbelievable four days crossing the Salt Flats of Bolivia (from Tupiza to Uyuni). Even with 7 hours to kill between arriving here and catching a bus to La Paz, it's near impossible to begin to describe to you everything we've seen. From flamingoes to geysers and llamas to snow-peaked mountains, no words can really do this trip justice...so we'll let the photos do the talking.

Episode 31: Iguazu Falls

Well, after our trip back over the border and our run in with the crazy Geordie guy in our hostel who recently left his job in Spain where he was paid in cocaine (:/), we headed over to Iguazu falls. Naturally it's now much easier to get around given that everything's in Spanish, and at the entrance I actually managed to argue my way to the Argentinian price (3 times less than the normal price) despite not having any documents - get in!

The Iguazu Falls is perhaps the epitome of the phrase "a picture speaks a thousand words". The scale of them is simply overwhelming and it's interesting to note that whilst the presidents of Brazil and Argentina (the falls lie on the border of the two countries) technically "own" them, they surely cannot help but feel that in reality this natural phenomenon really owns them.

After following a few of the trails around the falls, we decided to (quite literally) take the plunge and jump on a boat into the heart of this wonder of the world! If you ever find yourself in Iguazu (which you all should), then we'd definitely recommend taking the boat - it literally goes into the middle of the enormous plunge pool of the main waterfall, meaning you get totally soaked - but it is an amazing experience just looking up and seeing such a brilliant piece of nature above you.

The falls are in fact part of a larger national park and whilst they are of course the main attraction, the wildlife was pretty memorable too. I don't think we'll ever forget the mischievous coaties who lurk around all the cafes and literally jump on you the second you take your eye of your food (see pictures below!)

After the excitement of Iguazu, we spent a pretty uneventful Shabbat in Salta, where the Chabad Rabbi welcomed us and the token 20 traveling Israelis into his home. They were very hospitable, but it was also sad to see not one other person in Shul on Shabbat morning - it was literally me and Nick! On Friday afternoon we took the cable car up to see the views of Salta (impressive, but nothing on the views of Rio), and on Saturday night we took the overnight bus to Tupiza, Bolivia, which is where we are now. As close to a ghost town as either of us have ever seen, Tupiza reminds me a bit of Cuba in the sense that
it is a place that time itself seems to have forgotten. There was however one interesting commonality among the few Bolvians we have seen so far - they all have jet black hair! Perhaps it's a local fashion trend but either way it makes it very easy to pick out the foreigners!

Salta and Tupiza aren't exactly worth going out of your way to visit, but they've been useful stop-overs before we head off (not a moment too soon!) on a 4 day salt flats tour which is set to be one of the highlights of the trip!

Episode 31: the salt flats

Episode 30: Floripa and Brasil impressions

We've spent the last three days in a medium sized beach town called 'Floripa' - there isn't much to say apart from that we've done some cool activities and been out a few times at night on well organised joint events between all the Floripa hostels. Below (see bottom) is us waterfall jumping, sandboarding and chilling (we also did windsurfing but didn't get any photos)



Anyway, seeing as there's not a lot to write about I want to expand upon what Nick said in the last blog about the upcoming World Cup and Olympic Gamescin Brazil. Now, we've had an excellent trip so far, but the reality is that it hasn't exactly been helped by...well...Brazilians.

Not wanting to generalise, I want to clarify that this was only our experience and could be totally different for others. However, it seems that Brazilians are actually quite like the English - a bit cold, unfriendly and only speak their native language! Between Nick and I we actually speak three languages - English, Spanish and French - unfortunately very few Brazilians appear to speak any of these, even though Spanish and Portuguese are supposedly (grammatically) similar. Also, as I spoke about last year, I believe that English is much easier language to get a grasp of than those two Hispanic ones - and with Brazil hosting a global audience over the next few years, it is surprising that more emphasis hasn't been put on foreign languages.

When talking to one of the rare breed of multilingual friendly Brazilians about the language issue, it was largely brushed off as a side point. On the contrary, if the World Cup was hosted tomorrow, we can guarantee that this issue would cause horror stories (in conjunction with the fact that one in every two taxi drivers don't know where they're going or don't even turn up when ordered, pickpockets are widespread during high season and Jewish Mean Time is taken to a whole new level). It's not hard to imagine Spain waiting on the pitch for England in the semis while our team coach has been taken on a detour up Sugarloaf mountain. Actually, that would never happen - we've got no chance of making the semis.

In fact, as I write this we've just gone through the airport in which we were asked to write our emergency details on a scrap of paper (why do they need them so badly all of a sudden??) and at the gate the message went from 'please wait' immediately to 'last call', causing widespread panic. Back, then, to the civilisation of Argentina - and if you've been following this blog, you'll know that that's the last thing I thought I'd ever say!

Next up: Iguazu Falls