Craig & Sara arrived safely in Toronto last night from Quito, Ecuador after spending three last, fun-filled weeks with the infamous Rob 'I can fly' Horton. (stories to follow shortly)

Reportedly, all is well with the honeymooners, and they have several weeks of visiting planned in the near future. If you see a suspicious, beige van in your driveway, don't be alarmed.

New photos and news is on the way!

Rob was unaffected as we waded through the swarms of taxi drivers and locals trying to sell us rides back in to town. Flying in to Peru's capital at midnight might be difficult for the uninitiated.

It was great to see a familiar face after five months of travel.

A day or two of Lima sufficed and so we began our journey north in to the Andes on a tour bus. Not only were we served meals airplane style, but the whole bus got to play bingo to win a free ticket. Good Spanish practice. The winner had to sing a song before they could claim their prize. It turned out to be a Canadian girl at the back of the bus, so we sang Oh Canada! along with her.

The ride was uneventful and we found ourselves in the small town of Huarez nestled in the eastern arm of the Andes mountains. The excitement of being once again surrounded by majestic, snow-covered peaks was quick to overtake us. After some minor confusion we found a lovely Inn not far from the town centre.

The next day we walked up to a nearby archaeological site and took a tour of the ruins, led by several young children. The extent of our introduction to this lost culture was "hello!", "watch your head!", and "let's go!". Interesting nevertheless.

Looming over the town square was a huge, new statue of Jesus. Some discussion with a resident Canadian couple made us realize why perhaps the town was not entirely pleased with the mayor. The argument was that the money would have been better spent on the water and sewage system... Still, for this tourist based town, the statue was not without merit.

Our climatization to the high altitude continued as we made another day trip, this time towards the fabled Laguna Cherup. After a brief ride in a Land Cruiser up to the trail head, we enjoyed a steep hike up in to the clouds. As we made our way through small farms and potato fields the valley sank below us. We didn't make it to the lake, and it rained, but we had a great time and enjoyed an excellent Thai meal in Huarez later that night.

On the wild ride back down from the trailhead, Rob and Sara were surprised by a loud bang like the sound of a tire blowing out, but then they realized that it was just my head bouncing off the metal roof of the jeep. Rob laughed so hard, he couldn't stop until his head bounced off the top of roof as well.

We stocked up with supplies and jumped the bus to Chiquian, a remote village downstream from the Huayhuash Mountain Range. Apart from the excessively modern 3 story hotel that we stayed in, this town has probably remained almost unchanged in the last few centuries. Everything was made out of stone and mud bricks. The roads weren't even cobblestoned. Some of the electric lights worked: probably the ones that had not burnt out since they were installed a few years ago.

Dawn found us loaded up with enough food and fuel for 10 days, wandering through the empty streets towards the trail down to the river and the circuit. The trail was well used by the locals, and much of it was a very narrow, very steep, rocky path flanked on both sides with stone walls and small houses. Eucalyptus trees grew here and there, and cactuses were common. The trail descended for most of the morning into the valley.

The hike back up to Chiquian would be a brutal trudge, but we reminded ourselves of the fact that we would not be returning to Chiquian, and instead we would catch a bus from another point on the circuit. Or so we thought.

After reaching the bottom of the valley we continued along the meandering trail up towards the mountains. The icy blue water was reminiscent of the Rockies; the man-sized aloe vera plants were not.

The thin air was invigorating and the sun slowly warmed the cool morning breeze. We crossed the confluence of two rivers, the Rio Llacma that we were following, and the dark black flow of the Rio Quero dropping down out of a gorge from the north. For a short while the two rivers flowed side by side in the same bed before mixing.

As the sweat rolled off our brows, and the packs began to weigh us down, it was nice to have distractions. Dung Beetles performed acrobatics while rolling their marble-sized balls of dung through the rubble on the trail. Hawks soared across the pale sky and curious blue songbirds chased us through the sparse brush. It was amazing how they could fly around and land on the cactuses without perforating themselves (apparently sometimes they do).

We passed some natives here and there traveling between villages. Men on horseback, trailing donkeys laden with supplies, women and children walking with small herds of cattle and sheep, farmers tilling small terraces of native crops and potato fields, and old women carrying loads of grain on their backs.

A fresh lunch of vegetables and cheese sandwiches was served on a large boulder among a beautiful grove of small twisted trees in a small crook of the river. The ground was covered with short lush grass and the sunshine sparkled in the blue water of the rapids. After lunch the trout weren't biting, so we continued on our way.

Our first camp was on a secluded ridge halfway over a small pass in to the ??? valley. This was a detour from the main circuit, but one which was said to provide a glimpse in to the past. After we set up camp, I discovered a rather destructive, yet very satisfying form of entertainment.

The ground was mostly gravel and small rocks, which provided ample ammunition. In fact one of the traditional weapons of the Andean natives is the bolo. Anyway, the cactuses mobilized themselves along the east side of the trail, so Rob and I started with a full frontal assault and then formed a pincer attack on one particularly large prickly pear cactus.

After the war was over, we all enjoyed a warm supper and we sat late in to the night around the candle lantern. Hot coca tea, some cigars, and conversation.

The morning mist found us brewing some local espresso to top off our oatmeal and raisins and prepare us for another exciting day in Peru. The sun greeted us with another impossible hot, clear day in the middle of the rainy season. The cactuses had the last laugh at our second camp, where the only secluded, relatively flat spot we could find was surrounded by an impressive variety of cacti. Watch where you squat!

The next day we passed several small villages, where the local children harassed us for candy and the women asked for aspirin. The men, when they talked, sometimes asked for cigarettes. We did not provide anything, except the occasional gift of food or drink. Everyone was always fascinated by our gear, and the women especially by the synthetic material. Occasionally in the Andes, older women would finger the straps on my pack and touch the cordura with fascination.

For those who spin their own wool and make their own clothes from the animals they tend, nylon is nothing short of a miracle.

In reality they don't know how lucky they are. No man-made fabrics can compare to the beauty and versatility of the tightly and finely knit alpaca wool garments that are still the mainstay of the indigenous Andean people. Granted a rain coat or too would probably help...

Finally we reached the last village in the valley, Huaracocha???. It was a step back in time. Half a dozen small stone houses with grass roofs huddled around the Rio Achin below the lower lake Laguna Jahuacocha. High above was a moraine, the upper lake (Laguna Solteracocha), the glacier, and then lost in the clouds, the first icy peaks of the Huayhuash: Rondoy (5879m), Jirishanca (6094m), and Yerupaja Ch (6121m) rising 6000 metres above the level of the ocean back in Lima.

We made our way along the well trodden dirt path past the village and up to a small ridge above the lake. As we set up camp, some of the village men were just finishing their evening fishing. Each man carried 5 or 6 trout as they walked back towards the village. One or two fishermen, who were not doing so well, still fished along the shore near us. I watched as they looped the line in their hands, and spun the bait around in wide circles before they threw it out past the reeds.

I wandered down with my fishing rod, and waded out to the edge of the reeds in the glacial water. After about an hour I had caught three small rainbow trout, enough for our dinner. One of the locals stopped fishing and came over to watch me. As I walked out, he came over and started to speak to me. He spoke some Spanish, so I understood that he wanted to see how I casted the rod.

He was impressed that I was able to stand in the icy water. The icy water was of course no colder than the icy water in the Rockies. After a few casts I asked him to try a few casts. He did, and I told him that he could borrow the rod for as long as he wanted and to just bring it to our camp when he was done.

Apparently he enjoyed this new way of fishing a little too much. His wife who was tending a flock of sheep on the ridge around our camp kept whistling and yelling to him. He would shout back something like "OK, OK, I'm coming" in Quechua, but it was almost dark by the time he returned the rod and left with a full catch of trout.

The next morning while we were preparing breakfast, the couple from the previous day stopped in for a visit with their son of maybe 3 or 4 years. We were just getting up, but they had likely already eaten breakfast, tilled a few fields, walked their sheep twice around the valley, and were coming back for some lunch...

It was nice to interact with a young couple, probably our age, living in such a totally different environment. They seemed happy and healthy in their isolation from the modern world. An enviously simple life in a beautiful land. Still, I would not have traded places - life in the Andes is harsh and unpredictable. Lifestyles such as theirs will not much longer be a part of our world.

The trail curved around the right side of the lower lake and disappeared into a large swamp below the upper lake. Several small streams connected the two lakes and provided some interesting hiking. I skipped from rock to rock and managed to get by. Wisely, Sara decided to remove her socks and just walk through the water. Rob managed well, until he slipped and executed a beautiful half somersault - pack and all - and landed on his head amid the rocks and icy water.

He seemed all right, so after a brief rest we continued on between the moraine and the left side of the valley to a secluded, grassy knoll where we set up camp early. We washed our clothes in a small glacial stream and hung them out to dry in the hot afternoon sun. While setting up a tarp for our eating area I came across a scorpion under one of the rocks - somehow I wasn't expecting to find a scorpion above 4000m, it was small and fascinating.

During the afternoon I wandered up towards the Huayhuash peaks above the moraine and eventually to the foot of the glacier. It was magnificent and the views above and below were breathtaking. I felt as though I was in the Misty Mountains of Tolkien's Middle Earth.

At any moment I expected to see a great Eagle soar through a clearing in the clouds. I imagined that the rocks tumbling down off the glacier were actually being thrown by giants on the mountains. Many times I spotted Gollum peering at me from the shadows of gigantic boulders strewn among the scree. Fiction or not, mountains do have spirits.

Apparently the hiking was a bit too mild for Rob. Either he needed a challenge, or he was developing a penchant for aerial hiking. The next day, not a dozen steps in to our hike, after breaking camp, he flipped off the trail and cartwheeled down a small ravine. This time he tore something in his knee and we had to put together a splint and remove some weight from his pack.

The interesting part about all this is that it happened at the base of a very steep pass which led to the main valley and our trail. Rob held up well; though, and we eventually stood high among the clouds on the windswept pass. If need be, we knew that we could find one of the off-season mule porters to carry Rob out on an ass.

In a barren valley just beyond the pass we found a small lake and a pair of wild horses. We circled the cautious couple and meandered down through a beautiful ravine towards the valley and the main path. As we neared the bottom, we were surrounded by sheep and eventually an old lady who was herding them towards a nearby village. She was very curious about our plans and commented on our excellent luck with the weather (as had several other locals) - no rain for several days during the rainy season!

Camp was quickly set after clearing the rocks away from a patch of level grass - well trimmed by the sheep. After a good sleep, we decided to return to Huarez and bypass the rest of the circuit. The only problem with this of course, was the eventual brutal hike back up to Chiquian, where we had started.

Our return hike followed the valley and the small river through some villages, a mining town, and a few sections of construction; they were making a road to Chiquian for the mining. The following night found us setting up in a small field beside a stone wall near the stream. Since it was our last night we drank our stash of apple cider and ate well.

As last days go for long treks, this one was pretty rough. Rob seemed to skip along, even in the end, but Sara and I struggled along the never-ending valley. We stopped at a small lean-to that we had passed on the way in. After a couple of sodas and a Frisbee game with the kids, we tackled the last haul up to Chiquian.

Hot french fries, eggs, and coca tea welcomed us at the hotel. The familiar cheesy ghetto blaster and airbrushed polyester lion bed spread kept us warm that night in preparation for the pre-dawn chill as we waited for the 0500 (mini) bus to Huarez.

In my faded moments of consciousness during the rough and tumble bus trip back I remember the bus driver's son (at most 14 years old) waving to passerby's as he drove through remote villages and careened through the mist along near vertical drops. Perhaps he was learning to take over for his father.

Back in Huarez we enjoyed a lovely breakfast in a local vegetarian restaurant, bought some groceries to restock our packs, and purchased tickets for the 2100 bus to Trujillo on the coast - our next destination. To kill some time we decided to rest our muscles at a nearby spa.

After spending a pleasant sejour in the hot springs, including a private hot tub / sauna, we climbed aboard a decrepit excuse for a bus waiting in the parking lot. Eventually we started rolling down the hill and our driver jump-started the engine. The ride was bumpy so I was surprised that the two wires the driver crossed to honk the horn weren't crossing on their own. Eventually the bus died completely and so we joined the rest of the passengers in walking the rest of the way back to town

I don't remember that night ride to Trujillo, but I can still see dawn over the endless Pacific Ocean, and I recall another ride through Chan Chan, the eroded sand empire. For several days we enjoyed the Peruvian beach culture from a quaint Swiss hotel in Huanchaco. Skimboarding, sunbathing, and drinking cheap beer pretty much sums it up.

On our last day I attempted to go surfing in the unreasonably large waves. Without any instruction I promptly spent about an hour trying to get past the break. Eventually I did make it out to where the other surfers were waiting for waves, but of course by that time I was completely exhausted.

Most waves I missed completely and I several times I was crushed against the rocks and coral below. Finally I got tumbled and lost my board, which incidentally is attached to your ankle by a bungee cord. It found me again after I surfaced and tore open my ankle with it's fin.

The blood might have caused me to think about sharks, but the pain kept me distracted and I did catch a wave back in to shore, even if I wasn't standing on my board. Rob and Sara were on their next round of beer under the sun shade, so I returned the board and sat down for a cold one.

At some point we returned to Lima and Rob became ill. We bade him farewell as he lay sick in bed at a cheap hotel in downtown Lima. He was flying out the next day and we had to make our way north back to Quito, Ecuador for our own return flight

Brasil

Foz do Iguacu

Iguazu Falls is the most spectacular waterfall that we have yet to experience. Higher and much wider than Niagara, Iguazu is really a collection of some 275 falls gathered around a 2.5 km precipice. It is located on the Argentine / Brazilian border and is also the setting of the movie "The Mission". In Guarani, guazumeans big and "I" means water.

The entire area is surrounded by jungle, which is largely protected by national parks on both sides of the border. There are no wax museums, horror shows, or amusement parks... but unfortunately there are two giant four or five star hotels within the park. The falls are accessible above and below by trails and boardwalks on both sides of the river.

It is virtually impossible to properly describe the immensity of the falls, or the feeling that you get while standing on the edge of Garganta del Diablo (Devil's Throat). I am equally sure that photographs will also not do it justice. It is something that you need to experience, like the Grand Canyon.

A perpetual mist floats high above the entire area and a thunderous roar fades in and out of the rocky cliffs and lush vegetation. Flocks of noisy parrots flutter through the trees, swifts fly around and through the spray, white herons glide silently through the mist, while dark birds of prey circle high above. It was here that we first saw the beautiful blue morphos, a common butterfly in southern Brazil whose wings have faded yellow undersides and bright flourescent, metallic blue on top. As they flap their wings they appear to change colour.

Sao Paulo

Not far from Rio de Janeiro lies the third largest city in the world (population est. 19 million). Three times the size of Paris (>1500 sq km), Sao Paulo has become Brazil's financial and cultural capital. The country's official capital is Brasilia, about 1000km from Rio in the middle of the undeveloped sertao.

Our main purpose in coming directly to this city from Iguazu was to visit our friend's Andrew and Felicity along with their family, for Christmas. In fact we have spent, off and on, probably three weeks at their beautiful house in the suburb of Carapicuiba.

In the middle of an oasis surrounded by towering eucalyptus and palm trees is the Macdonald clan's residence. Their large open-concept wood and brick house feels even larger because almost half of the outside walls are glass! It is almost impossible to imagine that you are within such a huge city. Outweighing even the spectacular setting, is the Macdonald's unmatched hospitality.

After our arrival, introductions, and warm greetings, the first thing to stand out was the real Christmas tree and stockings hanging among the Christmas cards. We had an excellent Christmas vacation with Andrew, Felicity, their three sons: Malcolm, Ian (and girlfriend Yeda) and Ali, and some other friends from Germany and the US. A wonderful turkey dinner and a Christmas morning gift opening. It was just like home, except without our families, and without even a hint of snow.

It was hot, sunny, and humid, but the house was cool and the swimming pool was well appreciated.

Campos do Jordao

Although tempted, we decided to forego the "biggest party in the world" New Year's festivities in Rio for a quieter sejour with Ian and Yeda and some of their friends at the Macdonald's summer house in the resort town of Campos do Jordao (between Sao Paulo and Rio).

From firsthand accounts, the Rio party was a success (est. 2 million people in Copacabana), except for the rain which started New Year's eve and continued for many days afterwards causing landslides and flooding in the entire area including Sao Paulo and Campos do Jordao.

We had an excellent time with Ian and Yeda and our other new friend's dancing and talking around the fireplace in the beautiful Aratoca (their wooden summer house), and at the stroke of midnight spraying champagne at each other on the lawn in the rain.

Well the rain started and didn't stop. We were lucky, apart from being without power for a day, and having to detour some washed out roads, the flooding didn't affect us. Others were not so lucky as in Campos some people were killed and houses destroyed in landslides and many roads and some of the main highways were closed for days.

Salvador

After a brief return to Sao Paulo we endured a 30 hour bus ride up the coast to the capital of the state of Bahia: Salvador. This region was the first in Brazil to be heavily colonized. Founded in 1500's, Salvador was one of the most important cities in the Portuguese Empire and the capital of Brazil until the late 1700's. It was also the site of a thriving slave trade from Africa to work the sugar cane and tobacco plantations.

Today, it is still described as the most African city in the Western Hemisphere. We thought we had entered a new continent, and although neither of us has yet been to Africa, it felt like we had just arrived... music, food, dress, religion, customs, all brought over from Senegal, Nigeria, and other countries permeates modern Salvador.

Unlike many foreign tourists, we settled in to a cheap hotel outside of the tourist ridden old city. As with everywhere else in Brazil, the people are very friendly and helpful. Every morning we enjoyed a lovely breakfast in the hotel lobby, accompanied by our fellow guests and a large TV blaring out Teletubbies in Portuguese (not so lovely).

We walked aimlessly through some of the most impressive 16th century architecture we have seen yet. Much of the whitewashed exteriors have been completely repainted in pastel colours as a part of the recent restoration efforts. It looks a lot better than you might think. Ancient churches, narrow cobblestone paths, and large irregularly shaped parks and squares fill the upper and lower parts of the old city.

We danced to the famous Olodum drum ensemble during their weekly practice in one of the cobblestone squares. The band consisted of an incredible array of various male percussionists and a single male or female vocalist. Some of the drummers were much more enthusiastic than others, dancing around in circles with their drums strapped to their waists and spinning their sticks high in the air while laughing and joking around, but never missing a beat.

We wandered from the old city to the trendy neighborhood of Barra to experience the fascinating beach culture (where any women NOT wearing a skimpy string bikini stands out). Green coconuts that are opened with a machete is one of the most popular drinks alongside sugar cane juice, crushed while you watch.

We stood mesmerized while local experts practiced Capoeira, an amazing dance developed from an Angolan foot-fighting technique. It is practiced in public to the sounds of drums, tambourines, and the berimbau (a bizarre sounding instrument that looks like a bow and arrow with a hollow coconut stuck on it).

Arraial da Ajuda

Set high on a cliff overlooking the ocean is Arraial da Ajuda, near Porto Seguro, about halfway back to Sao Paulo from Salvador. This overdeveloped tourist village is located, nevertheless, on a very beautiful stretch of beach (not that the entire beach a few thousand kilometers in either direction isn't also beautiful).

Upscale bars, restaurants, and craft stores line the streets of the town, and every night is a street party with live or DJ music. The plaza is filled with drink stands selling the ever-popular caipirinha's, a powerful alcoholic drink made of crushed limes, ice, sugar, and pinga, Brazil's aguardiente or sugar cane liquor. Regardless of your present state drink two of these and you are well on your way to happiness.

All along the white sand beaches amongst the coconut palms are hotels, campgrounds, bars, and restaurants but more the grass roof, casual style establishments. Once again the beach life was very entertaining. Each of the bars / restaurants have reclining chairs, sun shades, etc. that are free to use as long as you buy drinks or food.

While you sit and enjoy your beer / caipirinha, countless vendors pass by with their wares: fresh broiled shrimp on a skewer, roasted cheese sticks done over a coal brazier before your eyes, fresh pastries, temporary tattoos (a big hit with the mostly Brazilian tourists), hand made hammocks, t-shirts, etc. You didn't have to get up and you could eat, drink, suntan, and do your souvenir shopping at the same time, which we did.

Fisherman (spear or otherwise) also wander out of the water and promptly sell their catch to the highest bidding restaurant. We had some fresh grouper, that we selected ourselves, and it was excellent.

Our campsite was great, except for the bar above us on the cliff that was open 23 hours a day and felt it was their responsibility to share their music with everyone within a kilometer radius... One time they played The Rolling Stones all night!

Well, after our relaxation in the sun a little too much sun, we zipped back to Sao Paulo via Rio de Janeiro.

Estrema

For those of you who do not know, Sara spent six months working in an orphanage near the town of Estrema, Brazil about five years ago. It was our good fortune to visit this orphanage for about four days before leaving Brazil. Set in the Brazilian countryside about 2 hours from Sao Paulo, it is built on semi-forested farmland among rolling hills. The 21 children that live with Oscar and Renata (owners) are very fortunate indeed.

The farm has horses, dairy cattle (whose milk they sell locally), pigs, chickens, geese, rabbits, and some gardens. There are also several ponds for swimming and fishing. You couldn't ask for a better environment for these children. They are completely isolated from even the nearest village which is a treacherous (in the rain), 40 minute drive away.

Sara was extremely happy to see quite a few children and workers still at the orphanage from when she worked there. They all seemed like really good kids and they have made excellent progress!

While we were there, an orphanage from Brasilia was visiting with a large group of younger boys. It was an unbelievable pandemonium. Sitting in the large common room, the sound was almost deafening. Kids pushing each other around on little three-wheeled bikes, roller blades inside, in the corner, still others watching a Disney movie on the VCR, someone practicing the flute, a few wrestling in the hallway, the kitchen noise, the laundry room noise, a little black dog with one of those giant funnel things around it's head running around, a 3 ton Labrador whose tail alone could knock you over, 14 different conversations, and more. Surely it isn't always like this of course, and the noise was probably double because of the visitors.

One could easily spend an indeterminate amount of time living and working here with the kids. Craig managed to help out by digging a drainage ditch, but also managed to puncture the main water line three times in the process. Live and learn.

The orphanage relies on donations (money and clothing) and volunteers from around the world.

Brazil is a land that we will visit again soon.

Chile / Argentina

Punta Arenas, Chile

Our tour of Chile concluded with a brief visit to a penguin colony near Punta Arenas. For those who have never seen a penguin in it's natural habitat, this is a great experience. Seeing them first at a careful distance, looking through the grass, then watching them waddle in a little group down to the surf is hilarious. The Disney cartoons are just too accurate in their renditions.

These penguins, the Magellanic Penguins, live in burrows in the ground not far from the ocean. The icy wind, and icier water, is their natural habitat and they seemed very relaxed in the extreme environment. We were lucky enough to see one penguin with it's two babies. Soon, they will be teaching the young to swim and fish.

Tierra del Fuego, Argentina

It was in the middle of the windswept Magellan Strait that we bid the mainland adieu for Tierra del Fuego, the land of fire. We were not greeted with fire, but water and wind instead.

Like many other open deck ferries, this one had splash guards about 15 feet high all around to protect the cars. Nevertheless, huge waves crashed against the hull of our tiny vessel and soaked many unlucky passengers, cars, and even our bus. Those who climbed the small upper deck could see cormorants and pelicans gliding over the whitecaps, as unaffected by the weather as the penguins.

From our bus, most of Tierra del Fuego seemed quite barren and desolate. There was no marked difference as we finally crossed the border into Argentina. It was not until after passing Rio Grande (Tierra del Fuego's largest city) that gnarled trees, hills, and even mountains began to rise from the stunted grasses. Crystal blue lakes and dark streams began to carve the landscape which was starting to remind us of the Alberta foothills, especially when it began to snow. And even more especially when we saw our first beaver dam and lodge!

A handful of beavers were introduced here from Canada in the middle of the century to see if they would adapt, presumably for their fur. Needless to say, they are now a huge problem and have taken so well to this habitat that eradication has been impossible.

The snow stopped as we got off the bus in Ushuaia, the southernmost town in the world. There is good fishing here, dog sledding, cross country skiing, and some beautiful hiking; but probably the most intriguing reason to visit is the ambiance, the feeling.

The port town itself is not much to speak of: the luxury hotels, poorly built log cabins, and quaint touristy main street. It is the setting that draws your attention: the Martial Glacier looming behind the town, the icy Beagle Channel, and the last majestic snowcapped peaks of the Andes before they fall in to the often raging sea at Cape Horn.

A small collection of brave sailboats rest in the harbour as the wind, still lashing the masts and lines, can be heard whistling several streets back from the water's edge. Gulls can take off and land vertically like tiny Harrier jets, while eagles, condors, and the rare albatross soar effortlessly among the clouds.

We spent a week at the end of the earth, resting from the Torres del Paine, and exploring the area. Tierra del Fuego National Park provided us with a few days of camping and hiking along the coast and we also found a great hostel called La Violeta de la Montagne. Hanging out here, we met some cool people and had our first Canadian weekend breakfast in almost 4 months, which we cooked up in the industrial sized kitchen. Hot coffee and orange juice with fresh bacon, fried eggs, french bread, tomato, cheese, and onions!! That may not sound exciting to most of you, but we were suffering from withdrawal.

The english carols drifting out from gaudily decorated toy stores did little to emphasize the Christmas spirit, but did remind us of how little time there was left for us to reach Brasil. We were forced to cut short our tour of Patagonia, and we flew to Buenas Aires. (Flights in this area, it would seem uniquely in this area, are almost as cheap as buses!)

Buenas Aires, Argentina

For the second time on this trip, we were met at the airport. Rene, the owner of the hostel at which we had reserved a room, took it upon himself to pick us up at the airport. It was a relief because we had arrived at half past midnight on the outskirts of the city on a Saturday night.

We spent a week in this South American Paris, admiring the fashionable Portenos and their European megalopolis. Wide avenues lined with trendy fashion outlets, small streets filled with cafes and bakeries, and a few beautiful parks with towering trees and colourful histories all add to the charm. Rene was fully informed of the social scene and made sure that we knew what was going on, when, and how to get there.

One day he sent us to a small Gaucho festival with dancing, horse contests, and a craft fair. It was set in a neighbourhood called Matadores, where they had closed down several streets and a plaza. The cowboys were authentic, the BBQs were amazing, and I know a few people back home that would have loved this one. I guess it only lasts for a short while, but we caught the last day.

We also managed to enjoy the last day of the yearly Tango festival. Rene and his wife Dora drove us out to San Telmo, the Tango neighbourhood, and we all crammed in to a small, normally private, dance hall. The faded yellow lights shone down through the cigar smoke on the well dressed locals who sipped wine and danced as we awaited the show. Eventually the floor cleared and a well known Tango pair dazzled us with their elegance, emotion, speed, and timing. It was very inspiring and immediately instilled in one a great respect for this dance that stormed Europe and the world in the forties.

Afterwards a famous Tango band demonstrated that what they say (in Buenas Aires) might be true, that the only good Tango bands left are those from the forties and fifties. These guys were incredible, and the youngest couldn't have been less than sixty years old. The four gentlemen with their characteristic squeeze boxes stole the show, but there was also a bass player, a charming pianist and three violinists.

Rene's hostel has a large rooftop patio fully equipped with a Parilla, or traditional grill. It was here that we celebrated the end of Tracey and Mez's South American tour with a BBQ under the stars. (Tracey and Mez are the Australian couple with whom we shared the Inca Trail in Peru and the Salt Flats desert tour in Bolivia, among other exploits.) They flew to England as we started the 18 hour bus trip to Iguazu Falls on the Brasilian border. The Foz de Iguacu was incredible.

Chile

"I live now in a country as soft / as the autumnal flesh of grapes,"
[from Fodors who quote Pablo Neruda, probably Chile's most famous poet, from his poem "Country"]

Chile is a fascinating country much different from it's northern neighbours. In the 1400's the Incas forged down through the desert in northern Chile and captured the heartland, but failed to proceed much further south of modern day Santiago due to fierce Mapuche resistance. In fact, the Mapuche indians successfully held a sizable territory and their way of life for more than 300 years AFTER the Spanish occupation of Chile. It was not until Chile's Independence was won in the 1800's that the Mapuches were finally defeated and 'integrated' with the rest of Chile.

The southern region of Chile received large numbers of German and Swiss immigrants who, for more than a century, have greatly influenced the architecture, farming techniques, and way of life in this area.

After our incident in San Pedro de Atacama (Bolivia Update), Sara and I made our way to Santiago directly by an unreasonably long but very comfortable bus ride. Santiago is a modern city with beautiful parks, trendy neighbourhoods, towering offices, and a very efficient metro (subway) system very similar in size and layout to Toronto's. They seem to lead one of the fastest-paced lifestyles that we have seen in SA so far. There are McDonald's on every corner (well not quite) and many cafe's in the centre serve espresso and cappuccino to sharply dressed business men while they stand and observe the waitresses who look more like they belong in a night club serving drinks. You can even get your coffee to go!! One of my favourite aspects of the city is the three very long pedestrian-only avenues that run through downtown. They are all wide and mostly tree-lined.

For the first time we found ourselves in a place where we did not immediately stand out as tourists, and in fact some Chileans approached me for information, etc. as if I was a local. Needless to say I was of little help, mostly. The population of Chile is about 95% mestizo: mixed Europian and indigenous. They have the lightest hair, skin, and eyes in all of the countries that we have seen.

On our way to the Lake District we spent a night in the Mapuche stronghold of Temuco. I still could not readily identify a large number of natives, let alone the large Mapuche population that is supposed to live around there.

One of the images that I will always think of when Chile is mentioned is that of a windswept, clear, blue lake with black sand beaches framed by roses and bright yellow and orange flowers with a huge, white, perfectly cone-shaped volcano resting on the horizon. There are many lakes in this area that fit this description. The first one that we saw was Lago Villarica.

From Villarica we bused and walked to Parque Nacional Hurquehue and spent several nights camping and hiking among the beautiful alpine lakes surrounded by ancient, towering alerce trees (sometimes I think referred to as monkey tail trees?). These lakes were all filled with Rainbow Trout, and I caught a few small ones in several different lakes with my new fishing rod!

We also took a boat tour out of Valdivia (named after the second famous Spanish conquistador to come to the region) to visit the rivers and Spanish ports that line the coast here. Several Chileans, Germans, and an American joined us for a fun-filled full day cruise complete with a Salmon lunch and afternoon tea! One of the (crazy, drunk) Chileans decided that everyone had to drink from his leather wine flask, first with the flask up to your mouth, and then, while squeezing, at arms length. Needless to say most people ended up with red wine stains all over their shirts and of course Sara was the first to try it out.

In the picturesque town of Puerta Varas we made friends with a German girl, Ute. Together we visited the Saltos de Petrohue, some really nice waterfalls crashing through a deep gorge.

The end of the Lake District tour found us at the 'end of the line' city called Puerta Montt from which (after a seafood feast in the local fish market) we traveled to the island of Chiloe, to a small town called Chonchi. Here we stayed at Esmeralda by the Sea, a small hostel run by a Canadian (PEI) native Carlos. He was very informative and took us on a tour of the local sea lion colony - awesome - these guys are just like lions! We also saw our first penguin swimming near the boat, dolphins, cormorants, and many other interesting birds. There are huge Japanese salmon farms in this area that supposedly produce some of the best salmon in the world. It's amazing that these small salmon grow from fingerlings to over 6kg in a year.

One day Carlos sent me to a beautiful lake south of his hostel where I rented a little rowboat and caught an uncountable number of rainbow trout and one salmon. It was amazing, and I kept three small ones for a feast that night. I also caught some interesting fish off the coast in the ocean, still not sure what they were...

After one more night at Perla's, the lady who runs the bed and breakfast we used in Puerto Montt, we flew to Patagonia, on the Chilean side. In Puerta Natales we met up with our new Australian friend Michael, an American we met on the plane, Leo, and an Irish girl that Michael hooked up with, Elaine. The five of us bought supplies and set out to see Torres del Paine National Park.

The five day trek was incredible and the views are mostly indescribable. Crystal blue glaciers, dark clear lakes, bright aquamarine lakes, awesome wind-swept forests, icebergs, granite towers, rocky mountains, moraines, grassy plains, forests, gorges, waterfalls, ... the list just goes on. You have to see this.

By the fourth day we were beginning to think that all the rumours we heard about extreme patagonian weather, brutal wind storms, rain, and snow were all a hoax. Apparently we were blessed because we had awesome clear skies, bright sunny days and even warm nights! The fifth day gave us a taste of the normal weather conditions, however, with wind strong enough to knock you over. The tents held together but it was crazy.

Apart from some nasty blisters on Sara's feet, we all got away unscathed and really enjoyed the trip. Views of the granite spires (the Torres and the Quernos) and the Gray Glacier with it's iceberg-filled lake were awe inspiring.

Tomorrow we will visit the penguin colony outside of Punta Arenas before taking a bus to the bottom of the world, the southernmost town of Tierra del Fuego: Ushuaia, Argentina. Here we won't be able to use the old expression: 'it's not the end of the world' since it will be...

Bolivia / Chile

Lake Titicaca, really two lakes joined by a narrow straight, at 3810m (12,500 feet) is considered to be the highest 'navigable' lake in the world. We began our adventure in Bolivia on a night bus from Cuzco to Copacabana with a brief stop in Puno on the Peruvian shores of the lake.

Copacabana is a beautiful town nestled in a protected bay on the north lake. It felt so much like a coastal town, and considering that Lake Titicaca at it's largest point is 200km by 60km, and up to 280m deep, it might as well be. 95% of the water that flows in to the lake evaporates giving the lake a very high salt content.

According to Inca legend, Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca is not only the birthplace of the first Incas: Manco Capac and Mama Oclo, but also of the very Sun itself. From what we could tell, it is also a great place to camp! We found a really nice secluded, white sand beach near what was supposed to be a sacred rock and some ruins that looked like they were built yesterday. Apparently Machu Picchu has a way of spoiling the other Inca ruins...

Managed to meet up with our friends from the Inca Trail, Tracey & Mez, and Tony & Claire, so that was really cool, and it wasn't going to be the last time we met up either.

La Paz is quite a city, as far as big cities go. Apparently it is quite common to hate it, or love it, and sometimes both. Very 'in your face', modern (lot's of pollution, McDonalds) and old (witches stalls selling everything including dried llama fetuses) at the same time. For sure there was something for everyone. We managed to find some of the best Mangos yet, a great Japanese restaurant, real filtered coffee, and white gas for the stove!

For a little siesta day, we took a van out to Urmiri which is a beautiful hot springs about two hours through winding canyons south of La Paz. We pretty much had the entire spa to ourselves (during the week) and the sauna was actually fueled by the steaming water directly from the springs! It was really relaxing. I did manage to extract Sara from the thermal baths, eventually.

Another side trip was a lovely mountain village called Coroico (it takes a while to pronounce this one properly...) It is located in the region north of La Paz called the Yungas, which are tropical valleys that extend in to the altiplano between the two ranges of the Andes. The road that goes out this way is considered to be the 'most dangerous in the world' and once saw an alarming frequency of fatal accidents. Although it has since been improved, the vertical (or overhang) thousand metre drops are quite spectacular (not the same word used to describe them by everyone...) Our campsite was set behind a quaint hotel and surrounded by gardens of beautiful flowers. The giant banana tree that sheltered our tent was flanked on one side by a stand of bamboo trees, and on the other by some lemon trees. Overlooking the far side of our site was a huge stand of pine trees! Very lush and full of colours, and birds!

As we finally said goodbye to La Paz, and after visiting a few southern colonial cities (Cochabamba and Sucre - the official capital of Bolivia) we found ourselves in the tiny desert town of Uyuni. Here we met up again with Tracy, Mez, Tony, and Claire and arranged to do the 'can't miss it' salt desert tour in southwestern Bolivia.

Mama and Papa (our driver and the cook, who we later determined were married) piled us in to the Toyota Land Cruiser that was to be our home for the next three days. We set out in to the desert.

The first day found us touring the Salar de Uyuni, an awesome dried up lake which during most of the year is a huge salt desert. In the blazing sun the light is blinding - exactly like being on a frozen, snow-covered lake. They do scrape up and process the salt locally on a small scale. We had lunch on an island that was covered with huge cactuses - all very strange indeed. Here we encountered a viscacha (sp?), a large rabbit like rodent with a monkey's tail. Interesting.

On day two we made our way past many colourful lagunas of varying sizes. Many of the lakes were dotted with bright pink flamingos. It was a bit of a race with the many other tour groups, all jostling along in our Lanrovers. The race seemed to be over for us when I discovered at the first police check that I had left my money belt / passport back at the village an hour away... Anyway, after reacquiring my passport and buying some extra fuel, we actually managed to come in third at Laguna Colorada (4278m). This bought us a room with three bunk beds, a table, and a little wood stove. Nice.

The next day we discovered the consequences of large quantities of wine mixed with an unidentified local liquor at high altitudes. Our neighbours weren't very cheery either, especially when we were the first ones up and out at about 0430... The rest of the trip is a bit hazy, but we saw some geysers, and resuscitated ourselves in the hotsprings. We were in first place right through to Laguna Verde and the Chilean border where Sara and I bid the team farewell. Laguna Verde is a blue lake that, as the wind picks up midmorning (or whenever), turns green.

Arriving in Chile was like entering a strange, new world. The roads were well paved and had little white and yellow lines on them marking the lanes. Intersections in the first city had pedestrian signals, and the drivers actually let you cross the road. There was toilet paper in the toilets, and best of all, the people seem to be much happier and ready to laugh, smile, or help out.

Unfortunately something did happen that almost ruined our image of Chile altogether. Apart from having our fresh Coroico honey confiscated and 'destroyed' by the customs officials, we also had a little theft during our first night in San Pedro de Atacama in Chile.

At about 0530 we awoke to find someone outside our tent going through our belongings. I yelled and was immediately out of the tent (Aikido Leap) and chasing the thief (who Sara thought was a large dog) through the empty campground. It is amazing that I did not run directly in to a tree or large rock as I was following only by sound - no moon, no lights. I stopped just before the brick wall at the end of the enclosed yard in time to hear the thief land on the other side. Had I a flashlight, or more than my wee underpants on, I would have continued the chase and taught the bastxxx a lesson. I was sorry that I hadn't continued because upon my return we discovered that they had stolen our daypack with our breakfast!! and Sara's dirty wind pants.

Anyway, it could have been a lot worse and it could have happened anywhere. It was unfortunate that this one night I wasn't sleeping with my maglight...

Well, still happy and healthy, cheers from Santiago, Chile!

Love,

Craig & Sara

This entry must have never been written, so almost exactly 9 years later, I will attempt to fill in the blanks...

The following is just some notes to jog my memory, I will try to fill this in as I can.

hanging in cuzco
awesome hostel with courtyard
thanksgiving - no turkey, but donkey head! had chicken empanadas - terry close
beautiful city
sacsahuayman sexy women, unbeilevable construction of incan stonework
sae clubhouse
go alone
got off bus and met tracey, mez, tony, and claire and decided to hang with them
claire had to get a porter for the trek
two passes (altitudes?)
espresso maker was a big hit!
many beautiful templates along the trail
trail varied but was at times very wide and still fully stoned
illegal camping before the gate of the sun and machu pichu
first in, amazing
trail aroung to temple of the moon
wild orchids
baby sparrows
crazy bus down to town (???)
train ride out (cheapest class) - yelled at some guy who tried to pick pocket me
said goodbye to new friends but exchange email addresses and hooked up again later - several times with tracey and mez

Ecuador / Peru

The journey from Cuenca, Ecuador into Peru was mostly uneventful. At the beginning of the endless bus trips and a short stay in Trujillo, Peru we were lucky enough to meet some really nice fellow travelers, Damian (Australian) and Deborah (British).

The border towns were as many border towns are: somewhat dreary, and 99% of the population is just there to make money off the travelers. Oh well, the beer was OK and cheap and the shoe shine kids provided many hours of entertainment, and as for them, so did Damian's dreadlocks...

Trujillo is located near many pyramids and arguably the world's largest adobe (mud) city, Chan Chan. These are mostly remnants of the Chimu civilization (which existed up until 1471 when they finally surrendered to the Incans after an 11 year siege!). They were somewhat interesting, but mostly a lot of worn out mud brick structures - some restored.

Moving on to the capital of Peru, Lima, we were lucky enough to get in touch with some friends of Jonathan's, Carmen and Greg, who are living in Lima. They were kind enough to let us stay in their apartment for a few days - a welcome relief! Somehow it's so different, and so much better, than hotels and camping, to stay in a home. Thanks again guys!

Lima was just another big city, but with some very nice neighbourhoods (Miraflores, Barranco, San Isidro; not downtown) and some pretty interesting catacombs (only recently discovered) that used to be the city's original graveyard - estimated over 20000 buried here! (lots of bones, stones, and located beneath a beautiful church, San Francisco)

Our first night in Lima we spent in a small hostel downtown. It was very interesting, as there was no sign, and the rooms spanned almost five stories of a decrepit stone building. It also included a rooftop cafe complete with an ancient parakeet and some large tortoises that seemed to roam freely about the gardens.

From Lima we decided to skip the coast and headed directly to Arequipa. Almost a state in it's own, it has it's own unique culture complete with beer and cuisine. The coast here is a mix of fascinating deserts, beaches, and oases. Arequipa is set in the foothills, guarded by Volcan Misti which is flanked by two other volcanoes (all around 6000m).

Arequipa, where we are sitting as I write, is a beautiful colonial city with impressive architecture and modern services. The Plaza de Armas, the main plaza it seems of all Peruvian cities, is magnificent. There is also a beautiful ancient convent (Santa Catalina) that was only recently opened to the public. It is a complete walled city in itself where to this day some nuns still live, and never leave (well, maybe they do now).

We just finished a 4 day hike through the Colca Canyon. This canyon is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and it's size is difficult to comprehend, even when you are standing on the edge looking down or across.

The roads on either side (not that we spent much time on them) are around 4000m. The sides of the valley, even where almost vertical, are still terraced from pre-Incan times with stone walls. Many of these terraces are still farmed by descendants of the Inca Empire today (the Quechua and others). Signs of Incan stonework are everywhere, often as foundations for churches, etc.

There is a lookout here where it is still possible to almost guarantee condor sightings daily during the morning and afternoon thermals. We were reprimanded for illegally camping here to get the best spot in the morning, but were still rewarded with over an hour of close condor contact. I mean close as in a few meters!!! It was amazing. These birds are still an endangered species. (I hope the pics turn out.)

After exploring the upper part of the canyon (and familiarizing ourselves with the local spiders, lizards, cactuses, and thorn bushes) we went to the bottom part and decided to hike down in to a highly recommended oasis near the river.

Strangely enough, the children (boys) which gave us directions to the trail managed to lead us astray. After a somewhat disturbing hike down near-vertical sheep trails we were able to find a relatively flat spot to camp. We were not even halfway to the oasis which we could see far below us, along with the proper trail on the other side of a steep canyon.

Needless to say, we were 'rescued' the next morning as we continued to try to descend what we would find out was an impossible route (we also looked up 'peligroso' to find out that it means DANGEROUS actually we already knew that...). A shepherd noticed us from high above on the ridge, and came to our rescue, scolding us for needlessly endangering ourselves.

Anyway, we trudged back up and had a wonderful meal at one of the local restaurants (which were way better in the country than the city, and even cheaper). We sampled a delicious vegetable soup (with several unidentifiable vegetables) and a fresh Alpaca steak dish. Alpaca is a type of llama that is prized for it's fine wool - it was very much like deer. Very good.

The bus back yesterday was later than we thought, and gave us 8 hours to kill in one of the tiny villages we were in. We hung out in the plaza, sketching and reading, and provided once again much amusement for the local children. They were fascinated for hours, learning how to open my combination lock and trying to read our books.

And that brings us to where we are today: on our way to Cuzco, Peru, the capital city of the former Inca Empire, and a central location to many amazing archaeological sites including the famous Machu Pichu. I think that may be an update in itself.

Peace to all.

Love,

Craig & Sara

p.s. we are both looking forward to spending our thirtieth birthdays in the sacred valley of the Incas

p.p.s. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!! We miss you all! ... when is Thanksgiving anyway?

Ecuador

More gnu's from Equador...

We started our journey in Quito, the capital of Ecuador. From a small bed and breakfast, we explored the old and new cities, and prepared for our first trek from a town called Papallacta, to Cotopaxi National Park. Quito was a large city with quite a gringo population, apparently a good place to come if you want to learn Spanish. It is very inexpensive all over Ecuador: taxis rarely cost more then $1, buses, even between cities cost less then $4, a good dinner for two about $15, breakfast maybe $1, and hotels from $2 up, nice ones are around $20.

The first trek was probably about 70km of mostly off-the-trail hiking through the Andes mountains. We passed by four volcanoes (all relatively inactive), many lakes, and several passes. The vegetation varied from barren paramo (high altitude plain) to swamps to rocky passes and amazing cloud forests. There were many birds, lots of hawks, we identified three different types from our guide book, the familiar white-tailed deer, llamas (not wild though), rabbits, and semi-wild herds of cattle and horses. Still searching for the elusive condor and wooly tapir!

The trek took us eleven days (instead of the 4-5 days indicated in our guide book). It took a while to adapt to the elevation which varied from 3000m to 5000m ASL (that's from about 10,000 feet to 15,000 feet above sea level!!!), the air is pretty thin up there and the temperature relied entirely on the sun. We met a few local fishermen and cowboys, but that was it! Weather varied from extreme high-altitude sunshine, subzero cold, high winds, no wind, light rain, heavy rain, snow, hail, thunder & lightening, and often, we were above or in the clouds. This made for some interesting days, and nights. It was the longest hiking trip either of us have done, and we were very happy to have completed it successfully! And we're still together too.

We climbed some smaller peaks, but left the volcanoes for another time, when we have the right equipment perhaps. At one point we really did not know where we were going, or really where we were, except that we were supposed to head for a volcano. Needless to say that for two days the clouds prevented us from seeing our destination, but some guesswork / compasswork brought us to

[and just as you might have been feeling sorry for us spending our honeymoon on the trail in harsh conditions...] After the trek we made our way to Banos, a small resort town about 200 km south of Quito. Here we stayed at a French auberge, and enjoyed a very relaxing few days. The hotel was amazing, we had a room with a loft, a fireplace, our own washroom, and a private patio looking over some gardens, palm trees, the mountains, and an amazing French restaurant.

From Banos we made our way (eventually) to the tiny village of Achupallas, still much the same as it has been for centuries. It took an exciting ride in a pickup truck crammed with locals coming home from the market along a breathtaking mountain road, and a brutal vertical hike up about 5 km of the same dusty road. We received a warm welcome in the town at the general store as we sipped on our victory Coca Colas. The natives were mostly very friendly and courteous. Unlike other cultures, it is rude to stare in Ecuador, which I found very interesting.

After spending the night in one of the local cow pastures, we began another trek, this one 4 days, along remnants of the great Incan Road system that once spanned from Ecuador to Chile. At the end of this trek we explored some Incan ruins called the Temple to the Sun. The stonework, even in some local residences is amazing. The true Incan work is morterless, and the rocks are fitted exactly. (Sean, you will have to try this when you build your chimney!)

On this trek I managed to catch some trout with a small handline and lure that we found, and so we had a good meal out of it! This was very exciting for us since we were living off of dehydrated meals, etc. The fishing all over the Andes here is great, and largely untapped. I caught four trout in less than an hour using a fifteen foot piece of fishing line and a spinner...

We are now exploring the city of Cuenca, Ecuador which is roughly 400km from Quito. It is a city of antiquity and strong culture. The architecture is beautiful, especially the churches - they were not messing around, these cathedrals are majestic.

The local cuisine is good, a lot of meat and potatoes. We still haven't been able to try the Andean staple Cuy, or Guinea Pig. Roasted whole on a spit, it is quite a sight. (kids hide your pets)

This will mark the end of our journey in Ecuador, and next week will find us on our way to Lima, Peru. That will be another story. We hope everything is well with all of you!

Hasta Luego! Love Craig & Sara

Adios amigos! Sara and I are finally off on our journey. On Wednesday (Aug 25) morning we fly to Ecuador. The next few days will be spent packing and saying goodbye.

If anyone cares to join us during our journey, you can determine our latest where-abouts from Ann & Shig (705-385-3293) or Kelly & Sheila (905-765-4155). It may not be as expensive as you think, our flights were $633 return, each, tax included, on Continental Airlines.

I hope everyone has a great Fall, and we will try to stay in touch. This will be my final update, Rob H. will continue from here on in. Thanks Rob! Craig.