I was really rolling with the blog thing for a while and there is SO much to tell you but, as I said, I've been a very bad blogger and since I can't possibly catch up on all that now, I'll just pop in for a brief bite.
I'm obsessed with dates and golden raisins and anchovies right now. The golden raisins in Chile, ooooh, I know what you're thinking but you probably have never had a golden raisin from Chile. The ones I have from Guercio's are a faint substitute but I throw them in everything, from oatmeal to red sauce, which reminds me that I made this sauce from tomatoes and zucchini, onions and garlic of course, then added copious amounts of basil and mint, some anchovies, capers and the raisins. It sort of reminds me of St. Joseph's Day pasta con sarde, but fresher. Or pasta puttannesca I suppose.
That leads me into anchovies, which are delicious with pasta of course. Also, the other day, I grilled some baby bok choy, laid an anchovy down each one and poured some homemade caesar dressing over it. This was inspired by Greg's famous grilled caesar salad that I adore. It was spot-on with the bok choy, the crevices between each tender little leaf a perfect receptacle for holding little pools of lemony-salty-briny delight.
Dates. I am buying these fantastic dates from Guercio's; they're big and dense and moist, not like those nasty, dry, ashy-looking ones you get sometimes. I just eat them plain or, like the raisins, in my oatmeal OR stuffed with goat cheese that has been jazzed up with walnuts, mint and lemon zest. I made these treats last summer and loved them and now I'm kicking myself for wasting whole year without them.
You may think I've been cooking a lot but this is really all I can handle lately. Stuffing goat cheese into dates. Boiling pasta and making quick-cook tomato sauces. Add to that my other dishes in heavy rotation including....Peanut butter toast. Massive amounts of green beans from the garden sauteed with onions. Really, I'll just eat a whole pound of beans for dinner sometimes. Tomato-basil salads. Fried eggs. I'm not feeling terribly motivated to cook these days. However, I am looking forward to moving back to New Orleans and having all kinds of fresh seafood and other goodies to mix up my current, funky, rutted eating repertoire. That's right, I said it, going back to New Orleans! More updates to follow!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
World's Most Amazing Coffee
No, it's not from Chile, I think I mentioned they are Nescafe aficionados there, which I still can't figure out. Anyway, my sister went to Hawaii in January and I asked her to pick up some Kona coffee for me; I've had it before and thought it was fantastic. She did indeed bring me back some Kona coffee but apparently it's SUPER expensive so it was just a 10% blend but they labeled it Kona anyway. Cheaters. However, she and her husband happened upon a little lady who roasts her own coffee and when they asked why Kona was so expensive, she dismissed it as swill and proclaimed hers infinitely better. Well, I don't think Kona is swill but I have to admit, this coffee was absolutely perfect; complex, caramel hints, balanced without being acidic. So, this is a super boring post that I'm mostly writing to document the contact information for this woman, should you or anyone you know be in Hawaii. I've had the empty bag sitting around here for weeks and I keep telling myself to write it down so I can get rid of all this trash cluttering up my apartment! Without further ado,
Poppi Beanz
100% Maui Grown, Kaanpali Estate
Red Catuai Beanz
Full City Roast by Haz Beanz Coffeehouse
115 Baldwin Avenue
Paia, HI
808-268-0149
Normally I'd write off anyone who spells "beans" with a "z" but I'll let her slide on this one, it's that good. Get me bag or two please if you are in Hawaii!
Poppi Beanz
100% Maui Grown, Kaanpali Estate
Red Catuai Beanz
Full City Roast by Haz Beanz Coffeehouse
115 Baldwin Avenue
Paia, HI
808-268-0149
Normally I'd write off anyone who spells "beans" with a "z" but I'll let her slide on this one, it's that good. Get me bag or two please if you are in Hawaii!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Desert Adventures and a Trek to Bolivia
This first part sort of repeats a bit from my last post, although I am more detailed here. Why did I do that? I don't know and I'm not editing it. Stick with it though, there's lots of new material!
Sunday morning arrived, time for my last jaunt through northern Chile, with a pitstop in Bolivia.
I thought it was genius of me to get a place ticket from Santiago to Calama, thereby avoiding a 23 hour bus ride. Really though, I had to take a micro to the bus station in Valpo, a bus from Valpo to Santiago, the subway from Las Rejas to Pajaritos to catch a shuttle to the airport, my flight to Calama, a taxi from the airport to the bus station and after a three hour wait, a bus to San Pedro de Atacama. Still, I left my house in Valpo just before noon and arrived in San Pedro at 10:30 that night, not too bad. However, I had set up a place to stay which, in typical Chilean fashion, fell through so I was left wandering around SP looking for a place to stay after traveling all day. I should note that I went out dancing Chilean cumbia the night before and got home veeeerrrrry late and on the way home, there was one of those fantastic downpours so my damp jacket and wet clothes in tow didn't make things easier. Anyway, I found a place to stay and put myself right to bed!
Lucky for me, the next day, June 29th, happened to be the festival of San Pedro and I happened to be in the town of San Pedro. I went to an outdoor mass in the central plaza, where there were people all dressed up, some in indigenous costumes, others as various animals and still others in their marching band best. Mass was followed by a parade down Caracoles, the main street. Two men dressed as chickens lassoed me and pulled me into the parade. I have no idea what this means and I didn't see anyone else get lassoed. Unfortunately, my camera had just decided to make its final exit from the world so I didn't get any photos from this exciting event. I spent the rest of the day wandering around the little town, checking out the many shops selling overpriced shit you can buy in every country in South America, shopping around the many storefronts offering tours to all the wonders of the desert. I signed up for the Geyers del Tatio tour the following morning, meaning I had to get up at 3:30 to be ready for pickup at 4am. Apparently the geysers are best appreciated as the sun rises, the reflection of light on steam and sediment creating an incredible array of colors. Well, let me tell you something about the desert. It's cold as hell at night and blazing hot during the day. So when I got up at 3:30, it was FREEZING!!!!! I am going to apologize in advance, because I am going to abuse the word “freezing” like nobody's business in this post. I should have kept a count of how many times I heard the word congelado during the week. Another thing, Chileans seem incredulous that we tourists are cold. They say “But you're from New York, it gets cold there.” Umm, yeah, but we have HEAT. I realize indoor heating is expensive but to not have it in cars? That is bullshit. Hence, the two hour bus ride without heat before the sun came up was uncomfortable to say the least. Oh yeah, and the road was RELENTLESSLY bumpy so even if you wanted to catch a little shut-eye, no luck.
Let me interrupt by saying that you must think my experiences in Chile have all been horrible, based on these blog entries. Not in the least, quite the contrary. It's just so much easier for me to write in a self-deprecating style and that just doesn't lend itself well to writing about some of the magic I've experienced. So instead I will poke fun at all my random, uncomfortable and, I like to think, totally hilarious adventures. Anyway...
OK, we got to the geysers and I have to say, I was underwhelmed. There was some steam rising out of the ground, whoop-de-doo. No gorgeous colors to speak of. What WAS impressive was watching the sun come up over the mountains. I don't know what it is about these landscapes that inspires such awe in us, maybe it's the feeling of our smallness in the face of such grandeur, maybe it's the revelation of the spectacular forces of nature that created such beauty. Whatever the reason, it was truly amazing. On the drive back, we stopped several times to get out and take pictures, or in my camera-less case, gawk at the scenery. A couple times I thought to myself there was no need to get out, I don't have a camera and I can see this very well from inside the bus. But then I'd get out and my sense of scale was completely altered. Still though, I don't need to stop and get out every time we see a damn llama, which is one of my main beefs with these organized tours. Another beef is stopping in these “quaint” villages to soak up some indigenous culture. We stopped at a little place that consisted of about 6 huts, all selling more overpriced crap. I could really skip this orchestrated, tourist marketing scheme, thanks anyway.
Christ, it was already my third night in SP! I got back from the tour and busied myself preparing for my three-day excursion to Bolivia, filling every bottle I could find with water, changing pesos for bolivianos and so on. Once again, I put myself to bed early to be ready for our 8am departure.
I arrived at Colque tours office and boarded a bus with a bunch of other confused-looking people, this would set the tone for the entire trip. After an hour of driving, we reached the Bolivian border, where we were all herded off and into the customs office to pony up our money for Bolivian travel visas. Everyone else had to pay 2100 pesos, less than $4, but those of us lucky enough to have an American passport had to pay $130. I think this is ridiculous but people comforted me by telling me Bolivians have to pay the same when they go to the US. I am not appeased by this, I don't want them to pay either but nonetheless, that's the way it is. Actually, I slid in by paying the bargain price of $50 since I'd only be in the country 3 days. They didn't stamp my passport though, likely because this is somewhat illegal but we all know I'm no stickler for rules, especially if it saves me $85 dollars..
After the border shenanigans, we split up into smaller groups to fit into the jeeps we'd be traveling in for the next few days. My tour included two jeeps; in mine was me, obviopo, Laima from Holland and Nicolo from Italy. The other jeep had two girls from Manchester (Bex and Katy), Rafa from Spain and Moses from Brazil. We stopped at a hot springs and several lagunas the first day; Laguna Verde, Laguna Blanca and Laguna Colorada. I'm sorry I don't have my own photos to share with you but my travel buddies have promised to send some my way (the ones I have here are from Rafa) but you should really do a Google image search. Actually, it was pictures of Laguna Verde that convinced me too do the Bolivia trip.
Laguna Verde
Laguna Colorada
I should say a few words about Bolivia. If I thought the Chilean desert was cold, I was blown away by the Bolivian altiplano. The elevation is much higher so it's way colder. The country is also much poorer and less modern than Chile, plus we were in really remote areas, meaning that there was no electricity or running water at the places we were staying. Also I will now state my disclaimer that I am about to talk some major smack about Bolivia but that shouldn't taint any ideas you may have about the country because I was only there three days and barely saw anything. That said, Bolivia ain't my cup of tea. It probably would have been much less painful during the summer than the winter but I still only have so much tolerance for barren towns made of mud and peopled by women in skirts and bowler hats. I fear that I am about to sound very ignorant and small-minded but I'm just going to embrace it. If you've seen one woman in a bowler hat, you've seen 'em all. I do not want to pay anyone for a picture of me and a wrinkled lady in llama leggings and that goddamn bowler hat. Why do they all wear the same things? And how did this fashion trend spread all over Bolivia and Peru and who knows what other countries? It SHO' ain't cute and more importantly, it doesn't seem all that warm either.
Case in point...
Anyway, we stopped at Laguna Colorada for lunch and also to spend the night. We were at an altitude of more than 4,000 meters, which is pretty damn high and super-cold. But we were all still in pretty good spirits and had a mediocre but filling lunch. Then we realized that there was not a whole lot to do here, we had only a few hours of daylight left and already it was unbelievably cold. Fortunately, there was one lookout, which I thought was very meanly named Aguas Calientes ( I mean, just don't mention hot water if there isn't any, okay?). We walked through the wide open altiplano, clutching each other and screaming to be heard, until we reached the lookout and saw a small exhibit about the laguna and why it changes colors, micro-organisms etc. With nothing left to do, we headed back to our room to layer up, push our beds together and wait for dinner.
I believe this is where it started too sink in for me that we would be sleeping in this godforsaken place. The bathroom, if I may call it that, had toilets that did not flush and no running water in the sinks. The smell, well, I don't need to tell you, but the bathrooms so far in Bolivia were impressive in their stench and squalor. Then it hit me, “Are you kidding me? Are we FUCKING CAMPING?” I could feel a hysterical note rising in my voice and this is where it is great that someone like Laima was along on the trip. She is one of those delightful people with twinkly eyes who immediately links her arm through yours and unabashedly asks to borrow your mascara and if you'd like to split a piece of chocolate. I love these kind of people, they're almost caricatures of real people and just crack me up to no end. So although I was tricked into a miserable camping trip in Bolivia, at least I was in good company.
Our "hotel" on the first night, I'm depressed all over again just looking at that picture.
After dinner, we all brushed our teeth together, sharing water bottles to clean off, haha, God, isn't camping fun? Then we went to bed and they turned off the generator at 8:30 and I spent one of the worst nights of sleep I've ever had. Not only was it ungodly cold, but that altitude really does something to you. Actually, we made jokes about it over the next few days, blaming everything on the altitude, especially things that had no relation to altitude whatsoever. Yet, the altitude absolutely makes you feel tired and dizzy and slightly sick. After waking up for the 17th time, I blissfully saw the sun rising, which meant it was time to get up. I sat up and felt like I drank 2 bottles of whiskey and smoked 14 cartons of cigarettes the night before. And perhaps someone had also hit me over the head with said whiskey bottles. Of course, nothing of the sort happened but the altitude gave me a clanging headache and the dryness of the air sucked the moisture out of my skin and throat.
Day Two was pretty great, I think you haven't really lived until you've sped through the altiplano with a crazy Bolivian driver while blasting reggaeton. Marcos and Chino, our drivers, seemed to delight in racing each other and scaring us shitless by driving through rivers and riding alongside huge ridges at impossible angles. I loved seeing how the scenery changed. The day before, it had been huge mountains, composed of all shades of red, brown, terracotta, bronze. Which was stunning, of course, but then we cruised into different terrain, lower slopes, looking misty blue in the distance, with golden-green shrubbery creating a beautiful contrast. It looked like a cover of one of those paperbacks about the Wild West by Elmore Leonard or whatever his name is. I only know that from shelving his books those years of working at the library in high school. Again, we eased into yet another striking scene, with huge rock formations created by wind erosion. It looked like a set from Beetlegeuse or something totally otherworldly.
Desert racing...
Arbol de Piedra
We stopped for lunch in another incredibly depressing town called Villa Alota. There appeared to be no sign of life, it looked completely devoid of people and activity. After lunch, Chino told us that there was a problem with frozen water at the place we were supposed to stay at that night so we were going to go straight to Uyuni and sleep there. This sounded great to us because Uyuni meant civilization! Internet! Running water! Along the way, we stopped in another horrible town, although this one had a market that we wandered around in for a minute before we spotted a bathroom. Now, how it works in many places here is that you have to pay to use the bathroom, with a nice little sign indicating such. Well, there was no sign and no attendant and so I bravely went in first, holding my nose, clutching my toilet paper. Without getting too explicit, I was using the bathroom when this lady kicked in the door and demanded 1 boliviano. I could care less about the boliviano but umm, can you shut the door and I'll pay you on my way out? Nope, she stormed out and left the door wide open. I kinda felt like smacking the bowler hat right off her head. Enough of these little towns, please get me to Uyuni!!!!
So, this post is already way too long, I will get to Part Two of my Bolivian adventure soon, stay tuned!
Sunday morning arrived, time for my last jaunt through northern Chile, with a pitstop in Bolivia.
I thought it was genius of me to get a place ticket from Santiago to Calama, thereby avoiding a 23 hour bus ride. Really though, I had to take a micro to the bus station in Valpo, a bus from Valpo to Santiago, the subway from Las Rejas to Pajaritos to catch a shuttle to the airport, my flight to Calama, a taxi from the airport to the bus station and after a three hour wait, a bus to San Pedro de Atacama. Still, I left my house in Valpo just before noon and arrived in San Pedro at 10:30 that night, not too bad. However, I had set up a place to stay which, in typical Chilean fashion, fell through so I was left wandering around SP looking for a place to stay after traveling all day. I should note that I went out dancing Chilean cumbia the night before and got home veeeerrrrry late and on the way home, there was one of those fantastic downpours so my damp jacket and wet clothes in tow didn't make things easier. Anyway, I found a place to stay and put myself right to bed!
Lucky for me, the next day, June 29th, happened to be the festival of San Pedro and I happened to be in the town of San Pedro. I went to an outdoor mass in the central plaza, where there were people all dressed up, some in indigenous costumes, others as various animals and still others in their marching band best. Mass was followed by a parade down Caracoles, the main street. Two men dressed as chickens lassoed me and pulled me into the parade. I have no idea what this means and I didn't see anyone else get lassoed. Unfortunately, my camera had just decided to make its final exit from the world so I didn't get any photos from this exciting event. I spent the rest of the day wandering around the little town, checking out the many shops selling overpriced shit you can buy in every country in South America, shopping around the many storefronts offering tours to all the wonders of the desert. I signed up for the Geyers del Tatio tour the following morning, meaning I had to get up at 3:30 to be ready for pickup at 4am. Apparently the geysers are best appreciated as the sun rises, the reflection of light on steam and sediment creating an incredible array of colors. Well, let me tell you something about the desert. It's cold as hell at night and blazing hot during the day. So when I got up at 3:30, it was FREEZING!!!!! I am going to apologize in advance, because I am going to abuse the word “freezing” like nobody's business in this post. I should have kept a count of how many times I heard the word congelado during the week. Another thing, Chileans seem incredulous that we tourists are cold. They say “But you're from New York, it gets cold there.” Umm, yeah, but we have HEAT. I realize indoor heating is expensive but to not have it in cars? That is bullshit. Hence, the two hour bus ride without heat before the sun came up was uncomfortable to say the least. Oh yeah, and the road was RELENTLESSLY bumpy so even if you wanted to catch a little shut-eye, no luck.
Let me interrupt by saying that you must think my experiences in Chile have all been horrible, based on these blog entries. Not in the least, quite the contrary. It's just so much easier for me to write in a self-deprecating style and that just doesn't lend itself well to writing about some of the magic I've experienced. So instead I will poke fun at all my random, uncomfortable and, I like to think, totally hilarious adventures. Anyway...
OK, we got to the geysers and I have to say, I was underwhelmed. There was some steam rising out of the ground, whoop-de-doo. No gorgeous colors to speak of. What WAS impressive was watching the sun come up over the mountains. I don't know what it is about these landscapes that inspires such awe in us, maybe it's the feeling of our smallness in the face of such grandeur, maybe it's the revelation of the spectacular forces of nature that created such beauty. Whatever the reason, it was truly amazing. On the drive back, we stopped several times to get out and take pictures, or in my camera-less case, gawk at the scenery. A couple times I thought to myself there was no need to get out, I don't have a camera and I can see this very well from inside the bus. But then I'd get out and my sense of scale was completely altered. Still though, I don't need to stop and get out every time we see a damn llama, which is one of my main beefs with these organized tours. Another beef is stopping in these “quaint” villages to soak up some indigenous culture. We stopped at a little place that consisted of about 6 huts, all selling more overpriced crap. I could really skip this orchestrated, tourist marketing scheme, thanks anyway.
Christ, it was already my third night in SP! I got back from the tour and busied myself preparing for my three-day excursion to Bolivia, filling every bottle I could find with water, changing pesos for bolivianos and so on. Once again, I put myself to bed early to be ready for our 8am departure.
I arrived at Colque tours office and boarded a bus with a bunch of other confused-looking people, this would set the tone for the entire trip. After an hour of driving, we reached the Bolivian border, where we were all herded off and into the customs office to pony up our money for Bolivian travel visas. Everyone else had to pay 2100 pesos, less than $4, but those of us lucky enough to have an American passport had to pay $130. I think this is ridiculous but people comforted me by telling me Bolivians have to pay the same when they go to the US. I am not appeased by this, I don't want them to pay either but nonetheless, that's the way it is. Actually, I slid in by paying the bargain price of $50 since I'd only be in the country 3 days. They didn't stamp my passport though, likely because this is somewhat illegal but we all know I'm no stickler for rules, especially if it saves me $85 dollars..
After the border shenanigans, we split up into smaller groups to fit into the jeeps we'd be traveling in for the next few days. My tour included two jeeps; in mine was me, obviopo, Laima from Holland and Nicolo from Italy. The other jeep had two girls from Manchester (Bex and Katy), Rafa from Spain and Moses from Brazil. We stopped at a hot springs and several lagunas the first day; Laguna Verde, Laguna Blanca and Laguna Colorada. I'm sorry I don't have my own photos to share with you but my travel buddies have promised to send some my way (the ones I have here are from Rafa) but you should really do a Google image search. Actually, it was pictures of Laguna Verde that convinced me too do the Bolivia trip.
Laguna Verde
Laguna Colorada
I should say a few words about Bolivia. If I thought the Chilean desert was cold, I was blown away by the Bolivian altiplano. The elevation is much higher so it's way colder. The country is also much poorer and less modern than Chile, plus we were in really remote areas, meaning that there was no electricity or running water at the places we were staying. Also I will now state my disclaimer that I am about to talk some major smack about Bolivia but that shouldn't taint any ideas you may have about the country because I was only there three days and barely saw anything. That said, Bolivia ain't my cup of tea. It probably would have been much less painful during the summer than the winter but I still only have so much tolerance for barren towns made of mud and peopled by women in skirts and bowler hats. I fear that I am about to sound very ignorant and small-minded but I'm just going to embrace it. If you've seen one woman in a bowler hat, you've seen 'em all. I do not want to pay anyone for a picture of me and a wrinkled lady in llama leggings and that goddamn bowler hat. Why do they all wear the same things? And how did this fashion trend spread all over Bolivia and Peru and who knows what other countries? It SHO' ain't cute and more importantly, it doesn't seem all that warm either.
Case in point...
Anyway, we stopped at Laguna Colorada for lunch and also to spend the night. We were at an altitude of more than 4,000 meters, which is pretty damn high and super-cold. But we were all still in pretty good spirits and had a mediocre but filling lunch. Then we realized that there was not a whole lot to do here, we had only a few hours of daylight left and already it was unbelievably cold. Fortunately, there was one lookout, which I thought was very meanly named Aguas Calientes ( I mean, just don't mention hot water if there isn't any, okay?). We walked through the wide open altiplano, clutching each other and screaming to be heard, until we reached the lookout and saw a small exhibit about the laguna and why it changes colors, micro-organisms etc. With nothing left to do, we headed back to our room to layer up, push our beds together and wait for dinner.
I believe this is where it started too sink in for me that we would be sleeping in this godforsaken place. The bathroom, if I may call it that, had toilets that did not flush and no running water in the sinks. The smell, well, I don't need to tell you, but the bathrooms so far in Bolivia were impressive in their stench and squalor. Then it hit me, “Are you kidding me? Are we FUCKING CAMPING?” I could feel a hysterical note rising in my voice and this is where it is great that someone like Laima was along on the trip. She is one of those delightful people with twinkly eyes who immediately links her arm through yours and unabashedly asks to borrow your mascara and if you'd like to split a piece of chocolate. I love these kind of people, they're almost caricatures of real people and just crack me up to no end. So although I was tricked into a miserable camping trip in Bolivia, at least I was in good company.
Our "hotel" on the first night, I'm depressed all over again just looking at that picture.
After dinner, we all brushed our teeth together, sharing water bottles to clean off, haha, God, isn't camping fun? Then we went to bed and they turned off the generator at 8:30 and I spent one of the worst nights of sleep I've ever had. Not only was it ungodly cold, but that altitude really does something to you. Actually, we made jokes about it over the next few days, blaming everything on the altitude, especially things that had no relation to altitude whatsoever. Yet, the altitude absolutely makes you feel tired and dizzy and slightly sick. After waking up for the 17th time, I blissfully saw the sun rising, which meant it was time to get up. I sat up and felt like I drank 2 bottles of whiskey and smoked 14 cartons of cigarettes the night before. And perhaps someone had also hit me over the head with said whiskey bottles. Of course, nothing of the sort happened but the altitude gave me a clanging headache and the dryness of the air sucked the moisture out of my skin and throat.
Day Two was pretty great, I think you haven't really lived until you've sped through the altiplano with a crazy Bolivian driver while blasting reggaeton. Marcos and Chino, our drivers, seemed to delight in racing each other and scaring us shitless by driving through rivers and riding alongside huge ridges at impossible angles. I loved seeing how the scenery changed. The day before, it had been huge mountains, composed of all shades of red, brown, terracotta, bronze. Which was stunning, of course, but then we cruised into different terrain, lower slopes, looking misty blue in the distance, with golden-green shrubbery creating a beautiful contrast. It looked like a cover of one of those paperbacks about the Wild West by Elmore Leonard or whatever his name is. I only know that from shelving his books those years of working at the library in high school. Again, we eased into yet another striking scene, with huge rock formations created by wind erosion. It looked like a set from Beetlegeuse or something totally otherworldly.
Desert racing...
Arbol de Piedra
We stopped for lunch in another incredibly depressing town called Villa Alota. There appeared to be no sign of life, it looked completely devoid of people and activity. After lunch, Chino told us that there was a problem with frozen water at the place we were supposed to stay at that night so we were going to go straight to Uyuni and sleep there. This sounded great to us because Uyuni meant civilization! Internet! Running water! Along the way, we stopped in another horrible town, although this one had a market that we wandered around in for a minute before we spotted a bathroom. Now, how it works in many places here is that you have to pay to use the bathroom, with a nice little sign indicating such. Well, there was no sign and no attendant and so I bravely went in first, holding my nose, clutching my toilet paper. Without getting too explicit, I was using the bathroom when this lady kicked in the door and demanded 1 boliviano. I could care less about the boliviano but umm, can you shut the door and I'll pay you on my way out? Nope, she stormed out and left the door wide open. I kinda felt like smacking the bowler hat right off her head. Enough of these little towns, please get me to Uyuni!!!!
So, this post is already way too long, I will get to Part Two of my Bolivian adventure soon, stay tuned!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Hey Kids, I´m in the Desert!
I just wanted to write a quickie before I take off for Bolivia tomorrow, I have been told by the tour guides that the accommodations will be ¨rustic¨ and ¨basic¨ and since hot water=luxury here, I am going to infer that the next few days will be internet-free.
So I left Valpo on Sunday, which was super-sad because, although I will be back next week for one day only, I said goodbye to my apartment, had breakfast for the last time there etc. Next Tuesday I´m going to be staying at the boy´s house (yes, there is a boy, come on, of COURSE there is a boy. That´s all I´m saying about it.) so no more Casa Peral for me:((( So, I hopped on a micro to the bus station, bus to Santiago, the subway from the bus station to another station(for some reason, the bus didn´t go to Pajaritos, who knows why)to catch the shuttle to the airport. Got on a plane, landed in Calama, cab to the bus station, another bus to San Pedro de Atacama, goddamn, I am tired just thinking about it! Then I couldn´t find/get in touch with the woman who I´d arranged to stay with so I got to walk around town at 11pm looking for accommodations. Did I mention that I went out the night before in torrential rain and so my coat was still soggy? It was awesome, let me assure you!
I managed to find a slightly overpriced room, but it was mine, all mine, no sharing. No internet or breakfast, which kind of sucks and the water wasn´t working when I wanted to take a shower but these are just small details, right? I walked around town looking for a place in the morning with these ¨luxuries¨ and everything was full or way overpriced. Hotel Puritama turned out to be just fine in the end.
June 29th also happens to be the festival of San Pedro and what better place to be than San Pedro de Atacama? I took some pictures before my camera finally committed suicide (yeah, it´s been working pretty well for the last month or so but I think it took it´s final swan dive yesterday. Fantastic timing. There was mass outside in the plaza, followed by a parade with some decent marching bands, altiplano dancing and men dressed as chickens inexplicably lassoing me. Hmmmm. Then I had a DELICIOUS empanada, one of the best I´ve had in Chile, that was full of olives, egss, onions and meat that I will pretend was llama. By the way, I love llama. I had a llama skewer today in a little town called Machuca, on the way back from seeing the Geisers del Tatio. I thought the geisers were totally overrated and getting up at 3:30am in -15 degree weather even worse. But once the sun came out, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. I´m so pissed I can´t take pictures!!!!!!!
Ok, my time here at the internet cafe is running out, I gotta run, see you soon!
So I left Valpo on Sunday, which was super-sad because, although I will be back next week for one day only, I said goodbye to my apartment, had breakfast for the last time there etc. Next Tuesday I´m going to be staying at the boy´s house (yes, there is a boy, come on, of COURSE there is a boy. That´s all I´m saying about it.) so no more Casa Peral for me:((( So, I hopped on a micro to the bus station, bus to Santiago, the subway from the bus station to another station(for some reason, the bus didn´t go to Pajaritos, who knows why)to catch the shuttle to the airport. Got on a plane, landed in Calama, cab to the bus station, another bus to San Pedro de Atacama, goddamn, I am tired just thinking about it! Then I couldn´t find/get in touch with the woman who I´d arranged to stay with so I got to walk around town at 11pm looking for accommodations. Did I mention that I went out the night before in torrential rain and so my coat was still soggy? It was awesome, let me assure you!
I managed to find a slightly overpriced room, but it was mine, all mine, no sharing. No internet or breakfast, which kind of sucks and the water wasn´t working when I wanted to take a shower but these are just small details, right? I walked around town looking for a place in the morning with these ¨luxuries¨ and everything was full or way overpriced. Hotel Puritama turned out to be just fine in the end.
June 29th also happens to be the festival of San Pedro and what better place to be than San Pedro de Atacama? I took some pictures before my camera finally committed suicide (yeah, it´s been working pretty well for the last month or so but I think it took it´s final swan dive yesterday. Fantastic timing. There was mass outside in the plaza, followed by a parade with some decent marching bands, altiplano dancing and men dressed as chickens inexplicably lassoing me. Hmmmm. Then I had a DELICIOUS empanada, one of the best I´ve had in Chile, that was full of olives, egss, onions and meat that I will pretend was llama. By the way, I love llama. I had a llama skewer today in a little town called Machuca, on the way back from seeing the Geisers del Tatio. I thought the geisers were totally overrated and getting up at 3:30am in -15 degree weather even worse. But once the sun came out, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. I´m so pissed I can´t take pictures!!!!!!!
Ok, my time here at the internet cafe is running out, I gotta run, see you soon!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Four Month Check-In
That's right, it's been four whole months since I left Buffalo, a bittersweet day indeed. I've had a wonderful journey so far, and I still have a month left, but it's official. I'm ready to come home. Don't get me wrong, I will be SUPREMELY sad to leave here when the time comes but the life of an ex-pat is a sort of lonely one. Sure, I've met great people but meeting other travelers/English-speakers mean that they are inevitably leaving, and many of them have. My Chilean friends are fantastic, I feel really blessed, but being really ME is limited, which I have mentioned before. At first I thought I wasn't really ready to leave or homesick for home, just a little lonely. But now I know, that just ain't true. I miss YOU, my garden, my niece, cheese, the library, my gym, ole Blo, picking up the phone to call people. In short, it'll be time to go when the time comes. However, I've got one more trip planned before I jet, on June 28th, I will fly to Calama, in northern Chile, to visit San Pedro de Atacama, the desert, Valle de la Luna etc. Then I will go on an expedition to Uyuni, in Bolivia. Back to Valpo on July 7th to pick up my stuff and say my goodbyes and I am OUT OF HERE July 8th. Anyway, soon enough I will have my own photos to post but in the meantime, here are some titillating shots of both locations!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Daytripping in Quintay/Picture of the Day 18
I've been kinda lazy about exploring lately and my time here is winding down, que lata. So the other day I decided to start taking some small day trips and remembered several people telling me to go to Quintay. It's about an hour south of Valpo and was the epicenter of Chile's whaling industry in the late 1800s/early 1900s until 1967, when whaling was officially banned worldwide due to hunting the poor things until near extinction. (Everyone signed the treaty but Norway and Japan, what's up with them?). Quintay also has a number of good seafood restaurants, so no one had to twist my arm to get me there!!!
I tried to go last week but I got to the bus station at 11:20 and the bus left at 11:15, since when do things happen on time in Chile? Pucha! The next bus wasn't for several hours and since winter is approaching, the sun sets early and I decided to wait for another day. Monday broke, gloriously sunny and oddly clear. I could see all the way to the snow-capped Andes, past Santiago, which I have never seen from this far away.
On the bus ride, I watched the beautiful interior glide past me and I realized I had become complacent about how gorgeous Chile is. I noticed that the other day too, walking down a street in Valpo and it just seemed like a street to me, not a fascinating, ramshackle, South American alley. So it was a good reminder not to lose my sense of wonder and HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT THIS PLACE AND TAKE IT ALL IN!!! Just before we got to Quintay, we were treated to the most breathtaking view of the beach and cove below from the incredible height of the incoming road, I couldn't take a picture because, well, we know how well pictures through windows turn out. Trust me though, my day would have been complete just seeing that view.
The town is pretty much nothing but if you walk down the path to the harbor, you can see the old whalery??? Is that a word? I don't know the word in English. 500 pesos got me into the old place, there was a pretty uninspiring exhibition hall that had pictures of starfish and excerpts from Moby Dick pasted on warped cardboad. But touring the old, abandoned complex was totally worth it, the day was perfect, the camera was behaving, sort of. Magnificent.
The water had a brillo especial about it.
Eerie.
Sky.
Whales are big.
I wrapped up my afternoon with a big pastel de jaivas, which I could describe as a an enormous dish of local crabs, baked au-gratin style. Mmmmm. On the way home, I realized I completely missed walking along Playa Grande, which is supposed to be quite lovely. Maybe another day...
Monday, June 1, 2009
Picture of the Day 017
I'm a thief. I was walking to the store the other day after work and saw this MAGNIFICENT sunset. Sadly, I didn't have my camera, and even if I did, I'm having so many problems with it that I can't rely on it at all. Anyway, you can imagine how happy I was to see that Matt at corrugatedcity.com posted this picture and more of this very same sunset! Thank you Matt!
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