Amazing Amazon

After a week of surfing in Mancora, Peru, the Amazon jungle beckoned.  A quick flight back to Lima, a lousy overnight in the airport, and then I was on my way to Iquitos, a city of 400,000 on the banks of the Amazon surrounded by impenetrable jungle. In fact, the only way into this city is by plane or boat.  The city, however, did not appeal. Decrepid buildings line crumbling roads congested with thousands of smoking mototaxis (because everything comes in by boat, cars are rare).  Consequently, I only spent one evening here embarking on a 10-hour speedboat ride down the Amazon to Leticia, Columbia. 

Once on the water, the scale of the Amazon basin began to unfold. As context, here a few facts about the Amazon:
1. It dumps up to 300,000 cubic meters of fresh water into the Atlantic PER SECOND, which equals the volume of the next 5 largest rivers combined and accounts for 20% of the worldwide total volume of river flow into oceans.
2. It is the second longest river in the world, after the Nile (although there is some dispute about this).
3. The Amazon Basin is exceptionally flat; on average, the river falls slightly more than one cm per kilometer!  This also means that in the wet season, it floods thousands of square kilometers of jungle to depths of 15 meters.  During this time, the river also grows as wide as 40 kms.

This third point was particularly relevant this year, as the flooding has been record-setting.  Hundreds of thousands of people along the Amazon in Peru, Columia and Brazil have been displaced.  That said, the locals carry as best they can, living in the upper 1/2 or 1/3 of their houses and building ramshackle walkways to get around. Although it's obviously a crisis, people seem to realize that they are at the mercy of the mighty river and they simply adapt to its moods.  The boat ride reinforced the extent of the flooding as we passed village after village that had been completely inundated, many with only thatched roofs poking above the murky water.

The speedboat trip ended in Santa Rosa, Peru, which is one of the three adjacent towns deep in the Amazon basin that comprise "Tres Fronteras."  Here, in less than an hour, you can easily visit three different countries: Santa Rosa, Peru; Tabitabinga, Brazil; and Leticia, Columbia. Given the proximity of the three towns (Tabitabinga and Leticia are side-by-side, and Santa Rosa is a 5 minute boat ride across the river) and their combined isolation, border formalities are light.  On my second afternoon, I simply ambled across the border (shown below) into Tabitabinga, Brazil and then back into Leticia, Columbia, 30 minutes later - no documents, no questions, nothing.  Normally, Canadians have to apply for an expensive visa prior to arriving in Brazil, unlike most other South American countries.

While not especially picturesque, Leticia is a comfortable little town. After a couple of nights here, I took a two hour boat ride back up the Amazon to a fascinating little community called Puerta Narino. With motorized vehicles outlawed, well-organized trash collection, and responsible sewage and water systems, it was a welcome change from the rest of the noisy, polluted cities I've visited in South America.

Of course, large parts of the town were also flooded.  And any slim desire I had to swim in the obscure waters of the river disappeared when I saw that the local cemetary had also been flooded!

On my last day, I took a boat trip up the river with a guide to see the Amazonian river dolphins. There are two species: smaller grey dolphins, and the more famous pink ones (which are grey when young, but gradually turn pink with age).  I saw a number of the smaller ones, but was a bit unlucky not to see any of the pink ones.  We also didn´t really get close to the ones we saw, so I have no pictures of them ... but I do have a shot of my local guide earnestly searching for the elusive pink ones!

The boat tour was fascinating regardless; in fact, it was a combined river cruise and conopy tour. For kilometers in every direction, the forest was flooded to a height of 10-15 meters, meaning we floated through the canopy of what is normally quite a tall jungle. 

Ultimately, although I stayed only a few days, I got an up-close look at the incredible complexity of the Amazonian ecosystem.  And the flight out reinforced the scale, as unending, dense jungle stretched out under the plane for hundreds of kilometers in every direction (actually thousands of kilometers to the east).  Together, the complexity and scale certainly make this one of the most remarkable ecosystems on earth.

Mountains Sports in Huaraz

After Cusco, I spent 3 days in Huaraz, Peru, a mountain-sport paradise surrounded by legions of mountains, many of which tower above 6000 meters (the tallest, Huascaran, tops out at 6746 meters).  On my first day, I did a full day of rockclimbing in the lovely countryside, followed by a relaxing steam in a natural sauna in a cave.

The second day, I hiked up to Laguna Columa, a glacial lake located high in the Cordilleras Blancas and among the best day-hikes I've ever done!  After an hour on a crowded minibus up a rocky road, I started by hiking through rural farmland enjoying the sites, sounds and smells of farm life, harassed only by overzealous dogs with an uncanny ability to discern an "extranjero" (foreigner).  More bark than bite, they inevitably cowed when I picked up a stone or stick to threaten them with.

The trail steadily snaked upwards to the entrance of the National Park, where it steeped considerably.  With the reduced oxygen at 4000 meters, it became a real workout to ascend.  

After clambering upwards for another hour, including sections pulling myself up cables over steep, slippery granite, I was rewarded with this spectacular view of Laguna Charup at 4450 meters.

Unfortunately, in the late afternoon no minibus was heading back down from the trailhead, so I ended up walking the extra 19 kilometers back to Huaraz.  Needless to say, I was a bit sore the next day!

Peru - Machu Picchu 5 years later

A friend joined me for a couple weeks of travel in Cuzco, Peru.  Although I've been here before (5 years ago), I was happy to return as it really is a spectacular place.  For the first few nights, we stayed in the Sacred Valley at an excellent bed-and-breakfast that I would absolutely recommend to anyone (www.greenhouseperu.com).  Here's a shot from the back yard, to give you sense of the amazing scenery:

As a budget traveler (aka cheapskate), I normally don't stay in places like this.  But my friend had suggested this place because it ranked as the 6th best bed and breakfast in the world by travellors on Trip Advisor.  Surprisingly, it was only $75/night for a double room, with breakfast included!  Plus one of the owners took great pleasure in creating one-of-a-kind gourmet dinners every night, while the other owner led mediation classes in the morning.  Although it was hard to leave the comforts of this hotel, we did manage to get out and see some of the sites in Sacred Valley.

Las Salinas de Maras is a salt "mine", where highly-salinated spring water emerging from the mountainside is corralled in a haphazard set of terraces where it is evaporated to leave the salt for harvesting.

We also visited the Moray agricultural terraces.  It is hypothesized that the Incas located these agricultural terraces in favorable microclimates in tiny valleys - as opposed to the wind-swept, semi-arid landscape in the surrounding region - in order to develop better crop varieties.  In other words, it was an ancient experimental farm.

I also spent one day rambling over the mountains (up to 4500 meters) and through the country-side around our hotel, and was rewarded with some outstanding views of the Sacred Valley.  Many of the highest mountains have permanent glaciers above 5000 meters, although they are melting fast with global warming.

Of course we also went to Maccu Picchu.  When we first arrived in the heavy early morning fog, it was slightly disconcerting to see a guide holding a large photo of Machu Picchu in front of a blank fog wall for his clients, in lieu of the actual view.

Thankfully, for us (and for his clients), the fog lifted later in the day.  I'm not a history or anthropology buff, but Macchu Picchu is one of those places that everyone would enjoy, even with the hoards of gawking tourists.  Deep in jungle-clad, mist-shrouded mountains, the site is an absolute wonder.  Built around 1450, and abandoned 100 years later, it was unknown to the world until 1911.  It is also one of the few ancient cities untouched by Spanish conquistadors in the 15th, 16th and 17th centuries.

I hiked up thousands of precarious Incan stone steps to the top of Montana Machu Picchu, which looms over the ancient ruins.

From the peak, you get a strong sense of how isolated this ancient village was, situated amongst sheer, fog-shrouded mountains and deep valleys bisected by raging rivers.

Up close, you get a better sense of how well developed this ancient city was, and how painstaking it must have been to shape the stone by hand to fit so tightly together.

We spent the last few days relaxing in the ancient city of Cuzco.  Like most Peruvian cities, Cuzco is mostly drab and crowded with polluting vehicles, although as the capital of the Incan empire and an important colonial city, it has tremendous historical significance and consequently a number of good museums, archeological sites and old churches.  We were there for Semana Santa (Easter Week), and were able to join the throng following the Holy Procession as it wound through the historical center of the city.

We were also treated to a typical Peruvian meal prepared by Mama Zeta and her son, Martin, the owners of the apartment we rented. She took us on an early morning trip to the local market to purchase the ingredients.  It was quite a sensory experience: raw carcasses hanging next to overflowing sacs of colorful produce - with the correspondent odors - and of course the cacaphony of voices bargaining.

After a couple hours of preparation, we sat down to a delicious meal of stuffed hot peppers, roasted sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, and crispy-fried pork.  I think I look slightly stunned in this picture because I was starving after watching Mama Zeta cook this wonderful meal.

Volunteering in Nicaragua

For my first week in Nicaragua, I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, helping to build a home for an elderly man.  Our team consisted of 9 Canadians from across the country, along with some local Nicaraguan staff for Habitat for Humanity.  The 63 year old man for whom we built the house had lived in a various shacks made of plastic, scraps, and branches for more than 50 years.  Here was his current "house"!

Inside this shack, he slept on thin, dirty mattress on a rickety frame made of branches and he cooked on a smouldering fire, with chickens and dogs running freely around on the fetid dirt floor.

The labour-based economy in Nicaragua became clear on the first day, when our team spent a few hours at the brick factory helping to manufacture a batch of adobe bricks, which we would later use to build the house.  Other than the hydraulic press that formed the bricks, the only other "technologies" available were shovels and rakes. All the tedious mixing of the clay, lime, cement and water was done on the ground, by hand.

That afternoon we travelled to the jobsite and began building the house.  With some construction experience, I was given the job of being an assistant "albanil" (bricklayer) for the week.  I was also given the nickname "chele" which I promptly misinterpreted to mean "boss" but soon found that it actually meant "blondie" or "whitie".  For that error in judgement, I was rightly ridiculed by other members of the team!

Carlos was the real boss, the local professional bricklayer who had been hired to run the jobsite and who had a special talent for making do with what was at hand.

He only had a little english and I only had a little spanish, but we managed to communicate with a combination of stilted language and hand signals.  It was a great learning experience, as well as a good exercise in patience, as I struggled to not make "suggestions" on how to do things better/differently.  Because labour is the most readily-available resource, there are not strong incentives to mechanize.  At the start, I had expected that we would easily finish the house, with our team of 9 volunteers, 3 habitat staff, and one professional.  After a few days, it became apparent that was not going to happen.  However, we did get the walls to about 75% of their finished height.  And we did spend an afternoon visiting some of the houses that had been constructed by previous teams, so I was able to get a sense of the positive impact Habitat was making.

My time spent with the Habitat team concluded with a few days of R&R in Grenada, where we visited one of the many active volcanoes in Nicaragua and took a fantastic boat tour through Las Isletas on beautiful Lago de Nicaragua (Lake Nicaragua).

I spent another few days in the surf town of San Juan del Sur, on the southwestern coast of Nicaragua, before crossing the border into Costa Rica.  I apologize that I don't have more/better pictures, but my camera decided to take an extended vacation from my vacation midway through my volunteer stint, so I only had my Iphone camera to work with after that.

Mexico 2012

I arrived in Mexico with some trepidation.  From the little research I had done, it was clear it was a fascinating and vibrant country, full of things that I enjoy about travel.  But it was hard to quell the mild anxiety stemming from the media's portrayal of the country as drug and violence-plagued place, with robbery and murder around every corner.  So I resolved to put aside my anxiety - without being careless of course - and get to know Mexico.  

Mexico City was my first pleasant surprise.  It's a modern, bustling city, filled with world class museums and art galleries, and some pretty funky architecture.  

Next was Morelia, an atmospheric little city tucked into the mountains west of Mexico City, where I had one of those "top 10" travel experiences - the monarch butterfly sanctuary.  Literally billions of monarch butterflies migrate from Canada and the United States and cluster together in sanctuaries on mountain peaks.  As our tour began ascending through the sanctuary, everyone was pretty excited when a few butterflies were fluttering around, and the cameras began clicking.  Little did we know!

As we climbed higher, the butterflies increased exponentially - from tens, to hundreds, to thousands, to millions.  Monarch butterflies are highly attuned solar collectors so, when the sun emerged from behind a cloud, the air quickly thronged with butterflies.  When clouds obscured the sun, they settled back onto the trees within minutes.

Arriving at the top of the sanctuary, I was astounded to realize that the huge grey clusters hanging from the trees were not plant matter but were actually densely packed monarchs with with folded wings exposing the drab underside.  Some stubborn clouds were hiding the sun as we approached the top, and we worried that we might miss the full experience.  But after fifteen minutes, the sun emerged and the clusters quickly dissolved as the air became thick with fluttering wings.  The first video below shows the clusters during the cloudy period; the second video is after the sun emerged.

It was quite a profound experience to hear millions of butterfly wings flapping.  It actually sounded as if a breeze was blowing through the trees, even though it was completely still!

Next was the Pacific coast, where I spent some quality time with my Uncle Lou and Auntie Wynn, who live in Barra de Navidad.  My cousin Ian, who I hadn't seen in a while, was also visiting his parents so I got the added benefit of catching up with him too.  I had a number of great experiences here: visiting a isolated beach and seeing whales cavorting in the ocean, including a few who jumped entirely out of the water (but were too far away for photos); watching hundreds of pelicans dive-bomb for fish: a regional soccer finale; and an earthquake!  It was short - only a few seconds - but quite an experience as it was the first earthquake I've been through.  It's disconcerting, to say the least, watching a large concrete home shudder around you.

Next was Oaxaca, undoubtedly the nicest city I visited in Mexico  Colonial architecture was everywhere, as were massive cathedrals.

It was a great city to wander in, popping into coffee shops, restaurants, galleries, museums and markets.  As well, outside of Oaxaca are a number of fascinating natural sites, including Nierve el Agua with it's petrified waterfall and natural infinity pool:

After a week on the beautiful beaches of Puerto Escondido, a world-renowned surf town on the Pacific coast (where I put in some time towards my goal of being able to surf properly), I headed inland again, to the city of San Cristobal de las Casas.  After Morelia and Oaxaca, I thought I might be somewhat indifferent to cute little colonial cities ... but that was not the case with San Cristobal.  Nestled in a cool mountain valley, it's renowned for it's cobblestone streets, quaint buildings, tranquil location as well as the natural wonders in the surrounding region, notably Sumidero Canyon.  I took a boat tour through the canyon, between the sheer vertical walls that tower up to a kilometer above the Grijalva River.

The fascinating, 150 meter high "Christmas Tree" formation shown below is actually a series of stone shelves constructed by centuries of water flowing out of the canyon wall and releasing dissolved sediments (in much the same way a stalactite forms).

After San Cristobal, I headed southwards towards the Mayan ruins at Palenque.  Enroute, I stopped at Agua Azul, with it's striking blue water contrasted against a brown limestone bed, tumbling through a fecund jungle.  Stunning!

The Palenque Ruins were as I envisioned Mayan ruins to be - crumbling stone buildings emerging from the thick jungle.

I also visited the ruins at Tulum which, although not nearly as large as the ruins at Palenque, have a pretty spectacular cliffside location, overlooking brilliant white beaches.  In Tulum, I also took the opportunity to go cenote diving, which is one of the more well-known adventure activities in the Yucatan Peninsula.  Cenotes are basically sinkholes that open-up into the vast network of underground caves, many of which are filled with a combination of freshwater and saltwater.   Essentially, you dive down into the sinkhole and then head off laterally into the connected caves (not too far of course!).   While there are not a lot of flora or fauna in the caves, the rock formations are spectacular, as is the adreneline rush from swimming through narrow, dark caves!   Unfortunately, I don't have a underwater camera so I've had to borrow the pictures from the web:

Google's collection of Cenote Diving Pictures

I ended my time in Mexico spoiling myself with some nice hotels in Cozumel and Cancun (along with thousands of other Canadians)!  I can see why people flock here in droves - the beaches really are spectacular - but the atmosphere was nothing like the rest of Mexico, so I was happy to only spend a few days here, before boarding my flight to Nicaragua.

Ultimately, travel in Mexico was wonderfully contrary to my initial perceptions.  Sure, there is a bloody drug war taking place in certain parts of Mexico, especially the north - e.g., Ciudad Juarez - but it felt very safe and comfortable in every place I ventured.  Here's a telling statistic from the Canadian Department of Foreign Affairs: of the 1.6 million Canadians who visited Mexico in 2010, there were only 5 murders and 11 killed from other causes.  Tragic for the people involved, of course, but a statistic that certainly doesn't suggest crime around every corner.  Here's an interesting article from the Economist on this topic as well:
http://www.economist.com/blogs/gulliver/2010/08/mexico

The simple fact is that the Mexicans I encountered were, almost without fail, friendly, civil, and polite.  And, of course, the scenery was beautiful.