Day 122: Madrid, Spain

In a dodgy little bar in the Indian district of Madrid, 30 very eager patrons awaited the opening of the flamenco show. At half past 10, we all filtered into a tiny backroom lit with suggestive red sidelighting and too many people and not enough chairs. Standing in the back peering over 10 rows of seated heads, we had the best view as the dancers came onto the stage. A singer, guitar player and drummer almost shyly followed the three women, each one beautiful in her own right, as all took their places. The guitar player set her face at the first feeling of her fingers on the strings showing an obviously strong emotional connection with her music. The singer joined soon joined his rough voice with the fluid notes of the guitar, displaying an amazing range for what at first sounded like a limited voice.

Soft lights in the bar

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Day 111: Cusco, Peru

“Tewnty-five dollars?!” We squinted at the sign posted behind the reception desk to be certain that we had read it correctly. The manager came out and confirmed the price, we thanked him for his time and high-tailed it out of there!

Bummer! Cusco was freezing (and we along with it) and it was 7:30AM. We didn’t know where else to go and had no city map. We knew it would have to be the old walk about to find another cheaper hostel as we shrank deeper into our thin jackets. Just second after we had left, the manager came hurrying back outside and said, ”OK, OK. I suppose…I will give the room to you for…for 25 Soles.” Read the rest of this entry »

Day 107: Arequipa, Peru

She had just finished a tiny plate of salad, had only been in the restaurant for ten minutes, tops. All of a sudden she snatches her jacket and purses and dramatically flounces up to the counter in a blur of varied shades of purple (you know, one of those people who likes to wear one color at a time so everything matches, even eyeshadow?). The poor waiter could do nothing against the unwarranted, spitting anger of this monochromatic woman. Read the rest of this entry »

Day 106: Arequipa, Peru

Saben`s camera (Canon G9 if anyone would like a recommendation on a camera NOT to buy)–our only one now!– has decided to die. Apparently all the luck of our llamas was used to save Lin from being shanked on Palm Sunday. Very unfortunate because we`re heading to Machu Picchu in a few days AND because today is Good Friday and massive amounts of people are parading through the streets singing depressing songs, wearing nice clothes, and carrying a varity of strange items such as a glass box with a wax statue of Jesus and a wooden noise maker box to let everyone know what was coming. We missed some really interesting photo opportunities as we witnessed how people begin to celebrate Easter. The streets were dark except for the “holy flames“ of candles held as they processed in the reenactment of Jesus` funeral. Hundreds (if not over 1000) of people lined the square. An astonishing procession that we are sorry to have not been able to share with you but very pleased to have witnessed ourselves.

Day 105: Arequipa, Peru

Saben looked at Lin with a face both disgusted and utterly freaked out. The bus driver must have been hungry because he stopped 3 times in one hour for a “break.“ At these stops, the aisles would flood with people, 3 bodies deep at any given second, each one vying for a sale. The bus smelled like a corncob covered in fruit and rubbing alcohol, body odor, bad breath and something else entirely indescribable mixed between human and food smells. Tragic really. Read the rest of this entry »

Day 97: Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

“Where`s the mechanic?“ Marco asked, in spanish, to a man walking by the road. “I`m not sure. He`s probably out with the llamas.“ Great, so the one mechanic in a town of 30 people was out tending his llamas?! Thirty minutes after we had set out, we had lost the bolt that holds the back suspension together. After 4 passing jeeps offered nothing but unhelpful stares, useless repair kits with only a wrench and 2 rubber straps,  Marco tied up the suspension (with the said rubber straps) and we headed back to town hoping our jeep wouldn`t rattle to pieces on the bumpiest non-road we`ve ever been on. And now that we made it back, the mechanic was out with his llamas? Well, a minor setback so we did what anyone would`ve done in this situation (right?!)–we went to the small schoolhouse and asked around for the mechanics child and took his daughter out of school!

Our poor broken jeep in the desert

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Day 94: Potosi, Bolivia

Would you really trust a man who puts lit dynamite in his mouth and screams wildly through the wad of coca leaves in his cheek? Well, we did and we even paid him! In Potosi, mining is the way of life, the business grandfathers pass to fathers who pass it to their sons and who will continue the tradition with their sons. Many go to work as early as 13 years old even though, technically, Bolivia has anti child labor laws. But when a family is hungry and has many mouths to feed, no law enforcement prevents children from being put to work.

Us in our miner gear

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Day 93: Potosi, Bolivia

Lin awoke in total darkness, gasping for air. She heard Saben cough. He`s awake too, she thought. With an aching, throbbing head, Lin was just sure her head would explode and/or she would suffocate beneath the weight of 30 pounds (no joke! they were so heavy and thick we could barely lift them off!) of blankets if she went back to sleep. When daylight finally broke after an agonizing night of repeatedly waking up gasping for air, we shared our worries that we would suffocate in our sleep from being in such high altitude under a pile of llama fur blankets.

After a day of struggled breathing and climbing up and down the hill (it`s probably more appropriate to call it what is really is, a mountain!), we hopped a taxi to–the circus! Lin never having been to a proper circus (i.e. not the county fair or Wal-mart), we went all out and even dared to eat some various carny foods. We began with a course of candied apples followed by homemade (who`s home, I never want to find out) potato chips and finished off with the worst hot dogs ever! The circus far exceeded our expectations and was complete with crossdressing, midgets, dancing girls in tiny clothes, and a car running over a man. We had a blast!! Video to come soon.

Circo! Fun for all ages...

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That subtle smell that always accompanies a fishing village permeated the air while we zigzagged through the historic center, admiring the clean white paint on the walls and the colorful doorways. Making our way lazily down toward the water, we came to the boat dock. The old, worn ropes and the chipping paint on the small fishing boats were like old friends–so charming and obviously well-loved.

Quiet fishing village

Fishing boats docked in Paraty

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Day 21: Bus from Flores, Guatemala to San Salvador, El Salvador

Bought a ticket yesterday for today’s long bus ride at the same tour agency that we got our Tikal transportation from. We paid $30 each and made sure to ask (three times) that it would be a direct bus on a Pullman (the big “Greyhound” type, not the reconditioned old school bus, aka “Chicken bus”). However, like most things, the 9 hour “direct” bus turned into a 12 hour stop-every-quarter-mile-or-so-to-pick-up-more-passengers-than- there-are-seats ride. Read the rest of this entry »