Bike Tour

I thought I would give my walking legs a break today and go on a bike tour. A few people at the hostal had done it and it came very highly recommended. The tours are run by Mike, a US journalist who has reported all over South America.

Emeralds embedded in the stone

We started by going to the main square, but we were stymied because a relic of Pope JP II was at the cathedral so the place was cordoned off to accommodate the hordes of nuns, priests, and other papal enthusiasts. We then went off to where the emerald traders were. There were heaps of people gathered on a corner, many of them were carrying hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of emeralds. A couple of them came over to our group and showed us their wares - some absolutely gorgeous stones. I just couldn't get over the fact that all this was done out in the open!

It says, "Don't turn the other cheek"

 We rode on, down the street, dodging cars that only very loosely follow the road rules. Mike showed us some great graffiti along the way to the market. There's a lot of graffiti in Bogota and some of it is really impressive.

Once we arrived at the market we tried all sorts of weird and wonderful fruits. Many of them I had never heard of nor seen before and most of them were very tasty...but there were a couple that were unbelievably sour - all of us had a grimace when we lied and said, "mmmmm good!" After navigating through the lovely, colourful fruits, we ventured into the meat section - which made me want to become a vegetarian. Whole pig skins hanging from hooks, intestines, innards, cow legs complete with hooves, and even a cow's head. It's truly gruesome when you are confronted with what it means to eat meat: DEATH. Naturally, after the death we went to the flowers. Did you know that cut flowers are one of Colombia's four main exports? Can you guess what the other three are?

Onwards we went, riding through some industrial areas to the red light district. Prostitution is legal in Colombia, as long as the ladies (or gentlemen) stay in designated areas. I have no pictures of this particular area - apparently the ladies don't like to have their photographs taken...go figure. Besides prostitutes look pretty much the same in most countries I reckon.


Hmmmm what's good after a red light trawl? How about a look at a micro coffee roasting facility? The roaster took up the most of a fair sized room and as we arrived the beans were released into the pan. Now, I'm not a coffee aficionado, but the smell was fantastic. All of the grade A coffee in Colombia is shipped overseas so it's actually quite difficult to get a decent cup of coffee here. We were given a grade A bean to chew on as well as a Grade C...you certainly tell the difference! We were also given cacao beans...how something so repugnant can become something so magical as chocolate, I don't know.

The grave on the left is the old president...

After our little coffee break we went on to the Central Cemetery of Bogota. This is a massive cemetery where 17 former presidents are buried along with various other notable persons such as famous scientists, poets and writers and the German migrant who brought beer to the shores of Colombia. The story goes that if you whisper your wishes into his ear (ok, the ear of his statue) he will grant them for you. There are also regular people who, for some reason, have become "sainted" by the people. These tombs are visited and prayed to by people who are hoping for miracles. There was one near the entrance that was quite impressive and BIG! People had placed flowers and other small gifts in order to prove their worthiness (I guess). Right next to this tomb was a small grassy grave...of a former president. The difference was quite striking.

We went on to see some other sites (don't want to give it all away in case you go), but the skies were threatening - we had all seen what the afternoon storms were like and we did not want to get caught out. We made it back just in time.

Flying to Iquitos

My plane ticket said Cusco to Iquitos. My boarding pass said Cusco to Iquitos. So you can imagine my surprise when the plane landed in Lima and the pilot said, "Welcome to Lima. Enjoy your stay." Um....

I gathered up my stuff and yes, I should have asked the question BEFORE I disembarked...but I didn´t. I went to the baggage claim place in the airport...there, I asked the question.

The airline person looked in puzzlement at my boarding pass. "There´s no direct flight from Cusco to Iquitos." No shit.  After showing my pass and telling my story to a few people, one lady said, "You shouldn´t have left the plane." No shit. "It´s leaving in 20 minutes!" Oh shit.

I was not permitted to go back the way I came - security. I had to go through the airport proper, go through security, the whole rigmarole. An air hostess who was going that way was recruited to help fast track me - she shoved me through the metal detectors, explaining things quickly to the security folks. We jogged down the line of boarding gates - mine was at the end...of course. She pointed in the direction I needed to go and told me to RUN to gate 9.

I ran. The guy was waiting for me at the gate and ushered me into the corridor leading to the plane. I ran down the corridor, with visions of a plane full of glaring, angry passengers....but no, folks were still settling in.

I found the seat I had occupied just 35 min ago. sigh. FLIGHT TIP: When in doubt, ask BEFORE you get off the plane.

We landed in Iquitos at around 8pm and immediately I could feel the heat and humidity. When I got to the terminal there was a porter there with my name. Ok...didn´t really need a porter...he grabbed my stuff and then escorted me outside - where we were assailed by a barrage of taxi and mototaxi drivers. The porter walked past them all to one in particular, and when we got to his car the porter waited...oh I need to tip you do I? grrrr didn´t need a bloody porter...

Iquitos is the largest city that you have to either fly into or boat into - there are no roads or rails to this place. Cars are a real luxury and are not very common. I was quite scary to watch this taxi guy dodging motorcycles stacked with entire families on them.

We finally arrived at my hostel - in a pitch black street...oh dear. He honked his horn and the door opened. A guy came out to grab my bags. "Welcome to the Flying Dog - we have no power." Great.

The taxi asked for a ridiculous 20 soles for the trip - I had paid 6 in Cusco. Oh....it´s going to be one of those places.

The Story of the Sandals

Back on the Monday before I went on the trail, and Encarna was still with me in Cusco, I found a lovely pair of sandals that I HAD to have...ladies, you all know what I´m talking about. This was in a mini market type place that we had ducked into to avoid the rain. The sellers were in a U shape in a large inner courtyard of an old building.

The lady selling the lovely sandals didn´t have my size in the colour that I wanted (red, of course) but she did say that her husband could whip a pair up for me no problem. I would just have to put down a deposit and come back on Wednesday (the day before the trail). Hmmmm sounds good to me! I paid a deposit of half the negotiated price and she told me she would be there on Wednesday at 9 sharp with my sandals.

Wed 9:00 - no one
Wed 10:00 - no one
Wed 11:45 - "Oh, sorry they´re still not here. Can you come back later please?"
Wed 1:30 - "Oh, when I said later I meant like 3."
Wed 3:30 - "Oh, sorry. Still not here and I´m closing at 4 today...but the lady across the way will be here to take them from the guy when he gets here....for SURE in an hour."
Wed 4:30 - (lady across the way) shakes her head - they still haven´t come.
Wed 5:10 - Still nothing. I left an angry note (I went to use an internet cafe to use google translate).

When I got back to Cusco after the Inca Trail, I was determined to get those bloody sandals!

The morning started much like it did above - no one was there. By my third visit at 11, one of the other sellers asked me to stop and have a look at her stuff. I was so angry by this point I replied, "No comprando nada aqui, la señora de 48 me robaron!"  - I won´t buy anything here the lady in stall 48 has robbed me....and I stomped away.

The woman called me back a few times before I reluctantly turned and walked back. She wanted the story. I explained the thing as best I could - the verb tenses were all over the place...gasp! - and the woman managed to piece it together. By then another vendor, a gentleman, had come over as well. They discussed the situation and then turned to me and said, "We will call them and get you your sandals. If they don´t show up we will reimburse you ourselves." wow...

They called the people from stall 48 and asked me to come back in 40 min...here we go again. But, I went away and came back an hour later for good measure.
 The maker of the sandals was there...with my sandals and a thousand apologies - it was Christmas time...there were many orders...the wife didn´t consult...etc, etc...
Anyway, I finally got my sandals - and I still had an hour to kill before my flight to Iquitos...the jungle.