Dienstag, 29. Mai 2012

High to low Altitude


After we had left Trujillo for the south, again we spend another night in another bus with moderate chairs to sleep in. And this time we were woken up by the freezing cold altitude of Huaraz, an out-door sports paradise in the middle of the Peruvian Andes. Along with us, two girl, one from the U, S and A, and an Aussie, stepped out into the cold with us. They had a recommendation for a cheap nice hostel, and so we tagged along in hope of a decent accommodation. The good news were: it was cheap, the bad news: it was filled with Israeli travelers.

Now before anyone raises their voice and screams “racists” I have to say, they do have the potential to be the most annoying travelers one could meet along their way, due to their habits:
-         they always travel in huge Israeli packs
-         they always speak Hebrew (which after a while just gets so annoying to the ear)
-         they barely socialize with other travelers (although I met few exceptions)
-         they always cook fore themselves and block the kitchen for hours, 3 times a day AND
-         they have the notion of being the loudest people in the bunch, even if they should rather shut up (i.e. in the jungle, when you want to see easily scared/ shy animals).

Now this is only my personal experience, and I’d love someone to convince me otherwise. Nevertheless, I am actually not yet repelled by this and still want to go to Tel Aviv, because I heard it must be an amazing city.


Anywho, so we rode into little Jerusalem and got our beds. Next action, leave the place and look for stuff to do around the town. To our surprise, there isn’t anything to do. There are no churches, no other historical sights and no huge markets to buy stuff. The only thing there is, and there is plenty of it, is travel agencies and tour operators. Millions of them, all offering the same stuff, and all are varying in prices.
In the end, we decided for one company that looked sound and went to the print shop to get our drinking game printed, that we had in mind to play with our two new friends. The gemae unfortunately never really gained speed, as the hostel staff was being a bunch of dicks and constantly reminded us to be quite as other people were in the hostel, too… around 7pm. Still we got plastered and the next morning I was suffering soooooo bad from altitude sickness and barely got my ass up. Despite the 3hrs drive up the mountain from where our tour to the Lagoon 69 started, I still felt like ass, and also, had some stomach problems, which added to the fun. Truth to be told, I didn’t like that day at all and wiggled behind the rest of the group, seriously trying not to day along the way. And I barely had an eye for the beautiful landscape all around us.



Up on top, we finally made it to the Lagoon 69 and first chilled out for a solid hour. After Chris kinda pushed towards stripping to the shorts and running in the freezing cold lake. As I not only had a week stomach, a head like an ambos and the beginning of a cold sneaking up on me, I passed on the opportunity to catch death fully and let him do his thing. And let alone by watching him run into the cold water, my testicles inverted inside into my body and stayed there for the whole time Chris jiggled in the lake.




 After we had to face the walk back down, but somehow we made it quite fast and were only 15 minutes late for the bus, like everyone else, and of course the bus had waited. After followed the most uncomfortable 3 hrs in a minibus I ever ever ever had to endure in my life. I sat in the front row, in the middle seat, which originally must have been designed for dwarves and midgets, and no offense here please, but I was literally hugging myself for the whole ride, and no one from the back was willing to change seats with me, not even after clearly describing my misery to them. Anywho, for Chris and me, the place got its tick on our list, and after a massive fest in a Chifa Place (Chinese Food) we hurried for the Bus Station to catch the next bus to the capital, LIMA.



Another night in the Bus, this time more comfortable and as well warmer upon arrival. Still it was a little early, so we stayed in the terminal, studied our Lonely Planet once more concerning accommodation and food and around 7 took a cab to “el Mochilero” in Miraflores.

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And the place was AMAZING, nice and friendly, and in a beautiful area. Unfortunately, we forgot our food bag in the cab, in which Chris had wisely put some of his cloths so he wouldn’t have to carry them in his big bag. Well, off the cab went, and so his stuff.
The early hours before noon were then spent to drive back to the terminal in order to ask the staff if they knew the cabbie and if there was a chance we could get the things back. Of course there wasn’t…
In the end, we let this one go, stepped by the supermarket and got some beers for the soccer game that was lying ahead. Bavaria Munich against Real Madrid, and it was broadcasted on our living rooms massive flat screen. Thus, asses placed in the front row, rip open a cold beer and let the game begin.

And a heartbeat game it was! When it went into over-time the whole hostel was already standing on their seats and the penalty shoot-out did it for the most of them. In the end, ¾ of the viewers left the living room satisfied but without finger nails, close to a heart attack, but still happy Bavaria Munich won. Two of these peeps were Chris and I. Later that day, we had agreed to hang out with some of the other blokes and go kicking around for a bit too. It was 12bucks a man, but it was totally worth it. We had a great day playing, made some new friends, and best of all finished the day off by BBQing on the hostels rooftop!!! Great Times!!

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The next day we had a nice little sleep in, wrote some stuff on the computer and toured around the town a bit. I can tell you it is huge and we walked quite some miles around the place. Especially the waterfront is amazing, with it’s cliffs over the water, you have an absolutely incredible view over the coastline and the little surfers down below.

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Furthermore, the city is buzzing. There are shops and stores everywhere, and you don’t really know where to look next. I think the contrast of that laid-back little place in the mountains to the big city might have helped to increase the sensation, but it still is very lively.

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In the afternoon, we again went to the supermarket to get some more charcoles to get the BBQ going and after shopping groceries stepped into the nearest back because in needed money. Here, the card went into the machine and just stayed there, without me having pushed or pressed anything. What followed was an angry conversation with a telephone service employee who apparently did not want to help me and kept saying “the card is broken, you have to come back in the morning”. I just feared that the machine would give out my card to anyone who would step by, and tried to use it, if it already keeps cards for no reason. We still had the BBQ on the roof, although we would have settled in for a night in the back to guard the machine and make sure no one uses it. In the end, a hand written piece of paper did the trick and kept people from using the machine, just as one little key the next morning opened the machine and the owner of that key handed me my credit card again.

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After having the card back, I got money somewhere else and we got our tickets to Ica, where we were promised, we could go sand-boarding in the world’s biggest dunes. And only 4hrs later we arrived in Ica, ready to hit the sand-slopes.
Unfortunately, it was already dark AND sandboarding could only be done in the neighbouring village, a oasis called Huacachina. So we spend one night in a shitty hostel in Ica and left the next morning for Sandboard-Paradise.



Right there, we booked ourselves into the next hostel and organized a Sand-Buggy & Sand-Board Tour, starting at 4pm so we would just finish the tour by watching the sunset over the dunes. AND IT WAS AMAZING!!!!!




 That night was Saturday and we let the desert burn once more, before we left the dunes to head towards Cuzco and the Holy Grail of South America travelers: Machu Picchu. Oh You Holy Inka Capital, make us imbeciles shiver in sight of your sheer Awesomeness!!!

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