Another trip pending

Unlike the typical trips I make to 3rd world countries rife with poverty and dollar a day jobs, street kids and petty crime, this one is a little different and rather out of character for me.
   Vegas has an air about it that requires at least one visit in a lifetime. And so we go, A quick jog over the border to Detroit airport then a flight via Delta to the original Sin City.
   Susanna already has her bag of quarters for the slots! And I might put aside $100 just to experience a few minutes at the blackjack tables.
    More details to follow, plus, hopefully some video links

   David D Sept 13th 2012

A short aside from the Peru trip - fictional-? Not Really

When the fields came into view, he remembered.

Even though he had never been in this place before, yet, still he remembered.

The bus, gears grinding, clawed its way uphill, its wheels spewing out loose stones behind like a contrail as the driver fought for traction.

  Below, several hundred feet below, the fields, barely stamps. green postage stamps, shone in the sun, almost fluorescent, contrasting against the puke yellow background of parched corn and barley stalks as the bus climbed ever higher above the Andean plain.

  It was then that it came back to him, the memory that he had choked back, buried, alluded to, occasionally, but never quite divulged as real.

 The coffee splashed over his hand, hot, uncomfortable, not really a burn. More an annoyance as the plane took its first hard bounce and dropped a bare hundred feet or so.

 The crackle of the P.A.  “This is your Ca......” was eclipsed at first by panicked gasps from fellow passengers, then by his own expletives as the coffee splashed off the ceiling, into his face, onto his shirt as he felt his stomach and his seat plummet several hundred feet in  seconds. Belted in, his pain was uncomfortable, tolerable, actually minimal, compared to the slap and slam of other passengers, unbelted and floating/ bouncing into the bulkheads in pain, panic and possibly self destruction.

 Suddenly the walls of the plane melted into translucency and then transparency as the approaching ground could be seen,  a living window on the ever widening fields as they rushed up to meet the silver belly of the falling plane.

 Faster, ever faster he fell, the force of the drop straining at his waist and hips, the pain expanding as the blood seemed to rush to his eyes, his mouth a silent scream and then…….

 He awoke, sweat soaked and petrified. The bed was all that stood between him and terra firma. The clock, the only light source in the darkened room signaled 3am. He sat up, stepped to the floor and paced, looking out of the window at a starless sky as his respiration finally slowed to normal.

  It was almost dawn before sleep finally returned, and I made up my mind not to discuss the dream.

               -----------------------------////////////////////////////-----------------------------------

Believe it or not, the dream and the bus ride were both events that happened to me-- about two months apart. I pondered the dream as a hint, a warning, a suggestion to cancel the trip. The Peru adventure involved 2 internal flights and about 8 bus rides along roads and routes that belonged on a “World’s Most Dangerous Roads” reality show. I literally came close to crapping my pants on the Puno to Arequipa bus trip as the route was what I had seen in my dream.

             Having said that, I can’t wait to go back!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Panama- Halfway Home

Correction to last posting, “Juanita” was, in fact discovered on Ampato Peak not Sabancaya. The eruption of the latter melted the snows on adjacent Ampato allowing the discovery.

To Continue:

  A late flight Sunday arrived in Lima allowing little other than sleep once we arrived back at Hotel Runcu.   An overcast sky, Monday and a temperature of 17C proved quite a contrast to the previous 2 weeks of mostly sunny skies and highs of 12-14C.

 A walk to the central retail area of Miraflores was rewarded with the discovery of half adozen craft markets selling product from all over the country. Some of the items were actually cheaper ( though perhaps of poorer quality) than in the originating towns and areas that we had seen in the previous weeks. Some of the vendors even admitted that the cheaper “100% Alpaca” sweaters were actually derived from the rare Peruvian Wooly Parrot- hence the name “Poly Ester!!”

  Anyway, with the option of either converting our remaining Neuvo Soles back to $US at some loss of conversion, or spending them, we decided on the latter. Some basic haggling with several merchants ensured that there would be little chance of anything moving around in the luggage on the flight home.

 An early awakening (3am) to catch an early flight (7:10am) has provided an excessively long layover in Panama, (10:40am to 5:30pm) with little to do until boarding except doze and be thankful the place is air-conditioned.

 With the current temp at 31C and feeling like 37C due to humidity, this is probably a taste of the weather in Ontario last week. Perfect timing to come home. Maybe?

  With a scheduled landing of 12:10am it will be a little late to head to Scarborough for Chinese food, but I am sure that tomorrow will be another day.

  With another major vacation almost done, I am wondering if it is too early to start planning the next one in earnest!

  Time permitting, a final wrap-up may follow in a day or so,once my body has recovered somewhat from the trip

3 days in Arequipa

Arequipa, with a population of about 800,000 is the second largest city in Peru. In spite of its size, the key tourist areas are all pretty walkable. The Hotel Inkanto. the fanciest looking hotel so far ($80 a night) is 6 blocks or 10 minutes from the main square.

  Reminding me a lot of Antigua, Guatemala but without the cobbled streets, Arequipa has a very colonial look with beautiful stonework and many white buildings in the downtown core. The Plaza de Armas (as usual) is the key point in town. A massive Cathedral fills the entire north side while the other three sides feature a cloister like appearance- perhaps colonnaded balconies might be the proper description. Second floor restaurants provide great views of the central park while (as I later discovered) supplying second rate meals at prices as elevated as the view.

  With almost 3 days here, the original plan was a visit to Colca Canyon and Cruz del Condor. Offering a Canyon twice as deep as the Grand Canyon as well as the chance to see many Condors in flight, this 2 day bus trip/hiking trek was deemed a little too much to tack on to the previous 2 weeks of almost nonstop travel. With a total of over 30 monasteries, churches museums and other sites in the city alone, I felt that I didn’t need another two days on a bus.

  Friday morning was spent viewing the Museo Santury with exhibits from ritual Inka sacrifices discovered on the top of nearby Sebancaya Peak in 1995. This included a mummy , affectionately known as “Juanita” who is believed to have been a 12 or 14 year old girl, killed over 500 years ago.

 A huge chicken lunch and a siesta later we returned to the Plaza to explore the Cathedral and the nearby Jesuit Church known as Iglesia de la Compania. ( just like La Merced, there seems to be one in most key towns, showing the impact the Jesuits had on Central and South America) ­­

  Both were magnificent in their own way, the Cathedral being much more open and brighter.

 Most of Saturday morning and early afternoon was spent touring the Monasterio de Santa Catalina. Occupying a whole city block and surrounded by high stone walls, it is actually a nunnery which was founded in 1580. Originally home to a wealthy and probably not too spiritually focused order of nuns and novices who had their own homes and apartments (( as well as several slaves and servants) within the compound, it is now a museum, Enclosed within is a smaller private monastery, currently home to a small order (30) of nuns.

  A break for lunch as well as stops at more churches and museums concluded the afternoon,

 Following a passable steak dinner at one of the larger department stores we wandered back to the Plaza where a noisy disturbance turned out to be the local  equivalent of Pride Parade- 2 small decorated flatbed trucks and a double decker bus and lots of techno music. The police were keeping a close eye on the festivities, but had put away their riot shields for the evening.

  Sunday Morning- a return to the square this morning found the riot police out in full force as a small but very vocal group were involved in some protest which involved burning flags and effigies. Unsure of its outcome, I decided to put some distance between us and it in case things got ugly. Some last minute shopping and a slow service lunch kept things rolling until it was time to return to the hotel for our belongings and a cab ride to the airport.

Puno To Arequipa- almost time to head home

The trip to Arequipa began at 8 am with a disorganized attempt to catch the bus. Apparently we had tickets for the wrong bus line. An employee of a competing company exchanged them for tickets on his bus. He neglected to draw attention to the fact that the price was considerably less and neglected to offer a refund.

 The trip began with a return to the centre of the previously mentioned hell-hole Juliaca. Seeing it up close and personal emphasized my initial opinion. I would guess that 90% of the buildings in the city are unfinished (a tax benefit) and that 80% of the streets unpaved.

 Departing the city with a full capacity, including the obligatory whining brat in front and two uncontrolled, chair kicking brats behind, we set off along a dull and dusty route out of this city that passed several dozen small brick making operations, each with their own small kiln. Eventually the tacky city perimeter gave way to a somewhat narrow plain flanked by fairly high rocky hills. Travelling a path paralleled by rail, road and river the route meandered through this valley area of parched yellow grass tufts poking through rocky soil for almost an hour. Herders driving a mix of cows, sheep, alpaca and llamas could be seen searching for suitable grazing along the sides of the road.

 Eventually the river and rail tracks were lost from sight as the bus began a slow and steady climb into even higher hills with the snow capped Andes in the distance. The road twisted and turned for what seemed like hours before a sign marking 4300 meters seemed to indicate the high point of the route. Signs along the way marking Curva Peligrosa, along with others,( equivalent to wear seat belt) were punctuated with grave markers of people who failed to read or heed the warnings. In some cases, as many as 20 lined a patch at the side of the road- most likely testament to a bus or overloaded vehicle crash.

The road eventually leveled out and for an hour or so and the bus continued through a high valley marked with “watch for animals crossing” and “watch for vicuña” signs. A small wild herd of the latter were seen at one point, but too fast to capture on film.

   At 12:30 the bus began a slow descent into the Municipality of Arequipa, skirting the edges of narrow roads with dangerous drops. Several hundred feet below, verdant patches of green fields could be seen in views that are normally reserved for planes landing or taking off. An Arequipa bound flight in the distance seemed to be taking a far less stressful decent than our own vehicle. A nail biting serpentine descent along cliff hugging roads with zero tolerance for poor driving (many more roadside shrines) eventually brought us into the Arequipa City surrounds. Here a variety of hucksters, sharks and snake oil salesman cruised the bus aisles with a loudly and gratingly toned, sales pitch of their “miracle product.” Most of the captive audience seemed too polite to refuse the pitch and eventually purchased what was probably significant coin to them. Having seen similar sales pitches in Nicaragua and Guatemala, I merely shook my head in disgust.

 A few more twists and turns brought the bus into the main terminal where the unloading process took on a colourful fight for supremacy, as everyone tried to get their bags off first.

 Retrieving our backpacks, we lined up at the taxi rank and were rewarded with the next driver in line, who turned out to be both functionally illiterate as well as un-knowledgeable about the city layout. The dork was stopping and asking directions of ice-cream vendors, hot dog sales men, apartment complex security as well as traffic cops before he found the address, which to me was a key intersection that all drivers should know. A brief and futile argument over price and our need for a receipt resulted in his demand for more money for extra travel time and my comment that he shouldn’t be driving if he doesn’t know his way around. Flipping him an extra 2 soles ( and the bird) we arrived at Hotel Inkanto, shortly after 2:45- enough time for a fast unpack and a quick shower before hitting the travel route to the main square.