Blatts in Peru: Lake Titicaca Floating Islands and Homestay on Amantani

Benji and Marina in Puno

The view out the bus window was stark as we entered Puno, a huge city bordering Lake Titicaca (pronounced  Titihaha, with the h more like a cough than a laugh. )  Identical buildings made of orange brick topped with tin rooves spung up randomly, bordering the bumpy, pot-holed road.  The lake, the highest navigable lake in the world, rested its shores against the drab city;   a jewel in a junkyard.

We checked into our room overlooking a dusty road, the honks of cars and the shouts of passerbys entering the room like uninvited guests.   (Two nights later, on Christmas eve, the midnight fireworks practically startled us out of our beds.   We thought, surely, there was an insurgency.)  I fought another altitude headache, soothed surprisingly well by placing  wetted coca leaves on my temples and behind my ears;  an herbal cure suggested by a local woman.  I looked ridiculous, but it worked!
Uros Floating Island

The real reason most tourists stay in Puno is to leave Puno.  By morning, we joined a van full of multi-nationals and headed to the docks.  We boarded our boat for the smooth ride to the man-made, floating islands at Uros.   The shallow waters  are thick with reeds, which the natives use for everything from food, to bedding, to house-building, to constructing the very island on which they build their homes!
The locals on the artificially floating islands use  sand, dirt and reeds, packed together to form large cubes, which they tie together, and cover in more reeds.  They anchor the whole lot with a few sticks of eucalyptus to the sandy bottom of the lake.  At times, after a big storm,  they have woken up to find the entire shebang has moved a few kilometers from where there were originally moored!

After the interesting tour of Uros Islands, which included a discussion with the president of the islands and a lot of tchatcke hawking,  we went by boat three hours to Amantani Island.   

Mama Paula prepares dinner

Amantani Island:  I cannot overstate the beauty of this place; terraced gardens, stone walkways, no dogs, no electric wires (yes, some small solar panels to light a single bulb in some homes), women and men dressed in native costumes,' fresh air, flowers galore and the view, the astonishingly vast and expansive view of Lake Titicaca.  

Fellow tour mates

We spent the afternoon with our homestay Mama; Mama Paula, who spoke Quechua and a very little bit of Spanish.  We were joined by an Argentinian, Marcelo,  a cheerful fellow who taught us how to speak Argentinian Spanish by pronouncing the y sound as jz.  In the modest house, Mama Paula cooked potatoes and rice, and served up quinao soup; all white, carbohydrate staples of Peru and the island.  The lake, sadly, has been overfished, and while Mama Paula's descendants have been on the island for at least 1000 years (no I did not add an extra zero by accident) rather than fishing, they make their living mainly on handicrafts and a trickle of tourism.  Why this island is not more touristed is a real mystery to me.  It is amazing! 

We joined our fun group of travelers for a hike to the old temple ruins, the highest point on the island,  at 13451 feet in altitude.  That's nearly as high as Washington's Mt. Rainier!  There we threw coca leaves in the gate for luck.  After a modest dinner and evading a torrential downpour, we dressed in native garb and headed off to dancing with our equally ridiculous looking tour mates.  

Exhausted from the wonderful fresh air, hiking and carbohydrate overload, we sunk into sleep in the pitch black night. 

 The next day we visited equally beautiful Taquile Island and again were mystified by the serenity, the rural, bucolic landscape, and the surprising lack of tourists.   The members of our tour bantered about an idea of opening a romantic bed and breakfast here,and ruining the native feel, but boosting their economy.  Of course these pipe dreams would never come to be, but it sure is fun to dream. 

 If you're in Peru, I really recommend making a trip to Lake Titicaca, and visiting these islands for a night or two, at least.   Simply put; It's paradise.

Blatts in Peru: Hoseback Riding Near Cusco

ßy Marina

It was our second day in Peru and Dad decided that we would take a walking tour of Cusco with our guide book. First we checked out a wonderful viewpoint of Cusco. Then we took a small hike  to Cristo Blanco  (a big statue of white Jesus) soon, after a couple of minutes, the altitude finally caught up to us and we had to take a taxi up.

While we were riding in the cab, the driver asked us if we wanted to take a one hour horseback ride to two temple ruins, Temple de la Luna, and Temple del Sol.  We thought it would be a really cool experience, so we said yes!

They took us to their little farm, and we mounted our horses.  Mom got the calm but snnapy one, named "Principe" .   Dad got the macho leader of the horses "Bandito" . I got the fast and really nice horse named Pacha. Benji's horse, Menado was the prettiest of them all. We mounted our horses,  were taught how to steer, stop and move the horsers.  It was the first time I was able to ride a horse by myself and I loved holdng the reins of Pacha and showing her where to go.  The path started  as a thin dirt road but soon it opened up to  a  big plain of grass and flowers. Surrounding us were mountains and valleys and we felt like we were in a movie.

We rode for thirty minutes until we had a rest stop at temple de la luna . We explored the tunells and ruins for 20 min. then we got back on our horses ad rode for twenty more minutes before we stopped to explore the temple de la luna. Then, the horses brought us to San Cristo and we were told that we had to get off.   Our one our ride had turned into much more and I wished it could have been for forever.  I watched Pacha run off to the other horses while dad asked some ladies for instructions back to our hotel they said for us to follow them  for a short cut back down a long , steep hill wiith hundreds of stairs. When we got to our hotel we went inside and and read in bed, exhausted from such a long  and exciting day.

Blatts in Peru- We've Arrived in Cusco

Sporting our Tourist Gear!

Arriving in Lima late Thursday night, we dredged up an overpriced taxi to our hotel in the nearby slums.  The hostel was ridden with prowling cats (yes, I am allergic), and no water at all. No matter, because we were up at 3:30 after four hours of "sleep" to catch our plane to Cusco.  The cab we had arranged didn't show, so we hoofed it, walking very briskly through the sketchy neighborhood and whizzing traffic to get back to the airport under a vaguely lightening sky.

Finally,  we arrived in Cusco.  Our hostel, Kurumi, is built around a tranquil courtyard, were we've spent much time chatting with fellow travelers and drinking coca tea,  which relieves some of the symptoms of altitude sickness.   Much of our first day, we napped, ate a little and napped some more!

We woke up headache-free the next morning, and headed, for the first of many times to Plaza Las Armas, where we shopped for ethno plundered sweaters and caps, until the four of us looked like we had stepped out of a dorky tourist catalogue, goofy hats and all.

We ate in the San Pedro market, where, for about a dollar, we each had soup, rice, lentils, salad and fried trout.  Twice in the evenings, for just a few bucks more,  we ate delicious two course meals at Las Nuecas, a small bistro on some cobblestone street nearish to the plaza;  the road name sounded somethting like Chachuecha....(but I might have that wrong...go figure).  It's nearby two kebab places, if you're looking for it!   

Guneau Pig is serve!

There, we dined on quinoa soup, fried cheese with guacamole, and stir fried alpaca.  We haven't yet tried the guinae pig which we have seen at the market restaurant stand, but we've heard it's chewy!

The first full day, our walking tour led us up the mountain toward Cristo Blanco, where we ended up spontaneously being willingly conscripted into a horseback rding event (see Marina's blog post) which turned out to be the hghtlight of our trip so far.

Yesterday, we did some more souvenire shopping, as the prices here are sooooo much lower than the astonishing cost of goods in Costa Rica.  Steve is oparticularly fond of the well-made North Face knock-offs; pants, jackets and more are great deals.   We should have brought an extra suitcase.  Really.

Later, we sat n the square and water-color painted the beautiful plaza and the church.  Many curious locals looked on and watched us paint as we sat on the benches in the shade. Benji was especially popular with a group of kids, one of whom wanted to paint, too.  Benji showed him how to use the brushes and colors, andthe boy really enjoyed adding in to Benji's picture.  It's times like these when I'm so glad that the kids speak Spanish!

Right now, we're on the bus to Lake Titicaca for a few days.  Poor Benji is puking intermittently, so I'll wrap it up here, and hope for the best.  'Til then..

Animals Close Up: Refugio Herpetologico de Costa Rica

We spent an enjoyable couple of hours today at the nearby animal rescue center on the old road to Santa Ana, right next to Crocs Pizza.   Our guide, Diego, indulged us by giving his explanations in Spanish (even though he offered the tour in English.)

The snakes, monkeys, crocodiles, parrots, macaws, caimans, turtles that are here are all well cared for.  Most were illegal, discarded pets, who were abandoned when they began to bite their owners, or were in peoples' homes, stuck in tiny habitats.  Some had lost a limb, a tail, and were obviously unable to hunt in the wild.   Several beautiful birds were pulling their own feathers: a stress-induced, potentially fatal disorder.  But all of them  had a home at the refuge, where most would stay for life, but those who were able to be rehabilitated were released into the wild.  

As sad as some of the animals' stories were, it was clear that the knowledgeable staff at the refuge had their hearts with these animals.  The entrance fee was about 6 bucks a person--a worthwhile, local (Escazu/Santa Ana) diversion!

How We Swamped Our Car in the River

Here's a picture for you:   The four of us sitting in puddly, smelly seats in our soggy car,  pulled by the slowest tractor on earth, our car alarm blaring the whole way to the Samara mechanic's.  (Until the guy in the tractor finally lost patience with us, stopped his tractor, and furiously disconnected the battery....)

We certainly had an eventful weekend in Guanacaste.

1. Benji was stung by a large jellyfish.
2. Marina almost stepped on a scorpion.
3. A tractor had to pull our car out of the river.

Here's how our car-in-the-river fiasco happened:

We were trying to catch the sunset, so we decided to take the shortcut back to beautiful Playa Carillo from our day excursion in Guanacaste.

Okay, and somewhere along the road, we had made a wrong turn.
The first road we turned down was blocked by a giant felled tree.   So we took the other road to Samara (only 7 kilometers away!) and thought, "Wow!  We don't remember coming this way, but it must be a shortcut."

We came upon a river crossing.   Earlier that day, we had already crossed a couple of small creeks, but this river was muuuuchhh wider and deeper.  We saw a car coming from the other direction, driving across the swollen river, with the driver and passengers whoooing like they just won the lottery.   How hard could it be?

A couple of local ladies were bathing in the river.  "Sure.  Everyone crosses here," they said.  "Just drive in a curve to stay in the shallows."

We really did want to catch that sunset, so we decided to go for it.   Our curvature was a smidgeon too wide, and we could hear the wheels spinning, throwing rocks into the under carriage  and digging the wheels into the loose river rocks.

From the back, I heard Benji calmly saying, "Mom...  Dad...  There's water coming in back here.  My feet are wet.  No, wait.  My legs are wet, now.."

It was coming in fast.

"Get the windows down!"   I snapped into action.  I've had this phobia of the worst case car-in-water scenario so many times that my instincts were ready.  I jumped out the window into the thigh-deep water.

"Get the electronics," Steve yelled.   "Hand them out the window to Mom! Tablets, phones and cameras were thrown into my backpack in haste.

"Climb out the windows, NOW!" I yelled to the kids.    We were all in the water by then, save Steve. The car was flooded over the seats.   Despair and astonishment set in.

The bathing women stared wide eyed.  Steve put it into neutral.  We all pushed.  Nothing.

Then the engine died.

We sat on the riverbank, despondent, the howls of a monkey in the trees.  The ladies called their friend who had a tractor.   An hour later or so, the tractor man arrived and yanked us jerkily out of the river, where water flowed out of the car doors like mini waterfalls.

The car would not start.   Senor Tractor Driver drove us to town, at about 3 miles an hour, and took us to a mechanic.

Miraculously, by morning the car had dried out (with the expensive help of a Samara mechanic), and started up again.  We drove home, exhausted from the highs and lows of our Thanksgiving adventure.

Epilogue:   Our car is being professionally dried out as we speak.  They have removed the seats, the carpeting, the console, and they assure us all will be well.

Moral of the story:  Well, there are several.

1. Slow down.  We don't have to see every turtle or every sunset.  It's vacation after all.
2. Don't do dumb things.   Next time, we won't cross a river, even if all the other kids are doing it.  This could have been a lot worse than it was...
3. If you notice a scorpion under your daughter's chair at dinner, tell her to get her feet up quickly, and kindly ask the cook to kill it.
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   

                                           

Attack of the Jellyfish at Playa Carillo

 

By Benji Blatt

"Ouch!  Ouch!  Ouch! @!##x%&# Ouch!! "

"Honey, are you okay?" Dad pulled me onto the beach heroically (Dad just told me to add that part).

"I think I got stung by something!  Maybe it was a jellyfish!"   My foot was really hurting.  It was red and swollen and had bumps where the jellyfish had stung it.

Dad said to Mom, "Lon, I'm gonna do it."  Mom said "Don't you dare!" but he did it anyway.  "This is my moment.  Daddy to the rescue."

Before I knew it, there was a boogie board blocking my vision between me and Dad.  Suddenly I felt a rush of wet heat on my foot.    When Mom lifted up the boogie board, I could see a large, yellow puddle surrounding my foot.  Dad had peed on my foot.

Later on, when it started to hurt again,  I also found it soothing to pee on my own foot.  ...A warm sensation in my heart.

When we got back to the hotel,  my foot was feeling better, so Dad and I investigated the theory of peeing on jellyfish stings.  We discovered that it was never proven to work. (But it sure felt good!)

Our first sunset at Playa Carillo, near Samara

How ya feelin' in Seattle about now?

Thanksgiving and No Shave November

We have much to be thankful for this year.   (You'll know what I mean after you read my early December post!)    We enjoyed Thanksgiving with new friends;  teachers Oscar and Jack and their families.

Thanksgiving: Week four of No Shave "Bro-vember"

 Ilana is also thankful for the end of No Shave November, in which the male teachers at our school grew beards for a charity.  In the end, the money was donated to a local orphanage.

Week One

He's a soul (patch) man!

Week Two

Week Three

.