Otavalo to Pasto: Venturing across the frontier!

Did you know that after dark the Panamericana route between the Colombian border town of Ipiales and the city of Pasto becomes full of ruthless bandits who purposely set out to pull buses over and mug the passengers at gunpoint? Luckily, we do! So instead of a lie in, the team started bright and early to browse the world famous Otavalo market in order to admire the wonderful Andean wares. The hawkers at the market certainly seemed to have had their Cornflakes that morning and were constantly on the prowl to make hard sells to the inquisitive gringos. Our philosophy was that if we were to go to a stall with nobody there, then we could check out the merchandise in complete peace. Nice theory! But within seconds came along the keen hostess who unfolded several large blankets and threw them into our hands. Some of the blankets were, in fact, so large that not even an origami champion could have refolded them. Each one a beautiful work of art, we couldn’t help but start imagining where they would look good at home, and they were made of alpaca wool too. SNAP OUT OF IT! There was much more to see and increasingly less time in which to do things, so we had to hurry. Oooooh! Fluffy little llama things! LET’S NOT GET SIDETRACKED!
After a very short while it was time for our breakfast bite, which may have been the best value nibble in the whole of South America! A soft and delicate, yet moist and flavoursome Ecuadorian cheese came hugged in a small, tasty bap to start, closely followed by huevos revueltos (scrambled eggs) and a glass of a complete mystery of a juice, unidentifiable both by sight and by taste. After hurriedly wolfing all that down we ran to the Hostal Sucre to grab our growing backpacks and legged it to the bus terminal.
It turned out that we were waiting there needlessly as we were eventually directed to wait patiently at the side of the road for our bus to Tulcan, the poorly constructed, somewhat unfinished-looking, Ecuadorian town that’s situated just 6km away from the border. The remaining distance was a short taxi hop (thank goodness the taxi drivers in Ecuador are more cautious than in Peru!) before we were free to cross the border on foot. There were no gruelling bag checks, fortunately. Not because we have smuggled something dodgy into Colombia (We haven’t!), but because our bags are so jammed packed now that every single item, big and small, has it’s own particular place and there wouldn’t be any less free space if we were to vacuum pack the lot! It would be impossible to get everything back in.
A colectivo took us to Ipiales, eventually! The catch is that the service was cheap enough but we had to wait an eternity before another two passengers came to take up the other two free seats. Time was ticking and we were beginning to grow anxious about the road towards Pasto and we had cut it fine as it was. After twenty minutes of clockwatching we finally set off for Ipiales where we did no hanging about, but went straight to the ticket office and bought our onward ticket to Pasto. The loud bus boy yelled out to the world about the remaining vacant seats and managed to lure a couple more people inside. The driver tore it up, down and around the narrow, snake-like roads being very careful of the steep drop that would put us all in the hands of fate should we tip over the edge. This cautiousness compromised the care he had when overtaking slow, smoke-spewing lorries, so much so that he was speeding us beside large vehicles on blind corners. It was like being on an aeroplane as it lands as the bus appeared to be flying, due to the fact that no road was visible, just the deep valley below.
We watched the sun go down as we passed quaint farmhouses, guarded by fierce hounds, all surrounded by a hilly, patchwork landscape of every shade of green. There were the odd terraces where vegetables were being grown, but most of the farming land was sculpted by the rolling hills and was steep. We watched as grazing cattle clung to the edgy face of the Andean foothills and chickens played chicken with our bus. It’s a hard life up there but it’s outbalanced by the beauty.
When we arrived in Pasto, it was pitch dark besides the sparse street lighting but we were relieved that we made it in the nick of time, just before darkness, and avoided having to hand money over to outlaws. We rewarded ourselves with a meal at the bus terminal, consisting of rice, soft beans, grilled chicken and fried banana. Oh! The tongue-tantalising chilli sauce complemented the dish perfectly! Simon’s lemonade tasted like medicine, so Jon stuck with water. Besides our room at the hostel festering of petrol, everything else was just great!

Ecuador: Otavalo

We've travelled from Lima all the way into Ecuador, to the market town of Otavalo. Here there is the biggest and best craft market of the entire continent, so if you're lucky, you might just find yourself with a souvenir when we return home!

Lima: Chifa Yiu Tac

But the day ended happily, for we decided to seek out a 'Chifa' or Chinese restaurant. Did you know that some of the best Chinese food in the world outside Asia is to be found in the myriad neighbourhood chifas of Lima? And Yiu Tac in Callao must surely count as one of the very best.
Sweet and Sour Chicken in a tamarind sauce; Chicken Curry; Rice and Noodles with vegetables; Deep-fried Prawns in a fragrant five-spice sauce. yum!
Tomorrow we're back at Lima airport on our way to Ecuador, but watch carefully, for by Saturday night we'll be in a Salsa and Cumbia frenzy. It's all go for a few days!

Latin American Honesty

Here's our Boeing 767 which flew us from Easter Island to Lima. But meanwhile we have two brief stories for you, to help you understand the psyche of this continent:
Firstly, cast your mind back one week to the time the intrepid duo stood in the Arrivals Hall at the airport on Easter Island. We fully intended to camp for a week, but a friendly and persuasive woman enticed us to stay in her guesthouse. "Ten thousand Pesos per night!" she said, with both Simon and Jon responding "for the room?" to which she replied " for the room." Now the rest you know, until last night, that is. After staying for seven nights, it was time for us to pay, and as if by magic, 'for the room' had, of course, been transformed into 'per person'. Needless to say, the situation quickly turned ugly, and we called the police. Of course we refused to pay double, and pointed out that there seemed to be nothing in writing, and that it was quite wrong deliberately to mislead tourists with false statements and to double the price. What would happen if we stuck to our guns and didn't pay the extra? The police officers turned out to be just as corrupt as the landlady, and faced with the prospect of a large truncheon and a few nights in the cells, we duly paid up. But that's over a hundred quid straight out of the budget!

Next, we needed a taxi from Lima airport just now to get to the safe haven of Hostel Victor. All the streets in this sector of Callao are gated, with police checkpoints... So we agreed with the driver the fare of 25 Nuevo Soles, which is just below the ten US dollar mark. We arrived and the deal had magically turned into 25 US Dollars. Now this frankly isn't on, and the situation again quickly turned ugly.
"Mentira! Usted piensa que nos somos estupidos? Toma 25 Soles o va con nada! se no esta bien todavia, me voy llamar la policia! No puedes cambiar el preco que nos negociamos, especialmente en la ultima hora!"... Rant over. This Spanish may be far from perfect, but it's all we have to argue with and he started to get frustrated as he got the message.
We didn't pay, and we suggested that the police could help us to sort it out. $10 soon sent him on his grimy little way after the lady at the hostel agreed that his new price was way overboard.

As gringos, we're going to get screwed at some point: fact! The secret is: just how much? Well, it pays to be wise and stick to your beliefs, for twice in two days the scam has been to introduce confusion and misinterpretation into the original deal. In all this time travelling though, yesterday was the first time it happened. They can see us coming, but then by now, we can see them...

Isla de Pascua: Anakena

Our day was spent cycling to a paradise beach with an electrifyingly blue lagoon, tucked in a bay of brilliant white powdery sand with dark, volcanic boulders dotted around in the surrounding green reeds. The descent from the central highlands to this coastal wonderland was one of the most thrilling bike-rides we’ve ever undertaken! We entered onto the Playa Anakana with caution as we first had to track through a coconut palm forest. People get killed by falling coconuts more regularly than any of us believe and we have no intention of being the next victims. On this success, we emerged from the soothing shade into the blistering beams of the sun, where we stood and marvelled at more Moai statues! Magnifico! And some of these even had their pukara on top of their heads, restored by Thor Heyerdal. After a swim and a paddle, rehydration was absolutely necessary and we indulged in a couple of overpriced cans of pop! “Slurp!”
We decided to take the coastal route back to Hanga Roa to make one complete circle, plus the Ruta Costera was extremely stunning the first time round. Apart from the wind always blowing forcefully against us, we were just fine! Small families of wild horses appeared every so often along the way. Maybe some of them were the ones we saw on our first cycle ride, but who really knows? We watched a large bird of prey swooping into grassy humps in search of dinner whilst listening to the repeatedly large waves as they brutally bashed the cliff side. Its slender body, massive wingspan and elongated tail made it look just like a pterodactyl as it closed in on us… And then we descended once more into Tongariki, and the combination of much better quality mountain bikes, deep blue sea, turquoise surf and the sun glinting on these giant Moai made this sector of the ride one of those moments we’ll cherish forever.



Meanwhile, back in Hanga Roa, we settle into life in the kitchen, which is very much the hub of the household, with comings and goings and plenty of banter. Tonight José gives us a deep lecture about Chilean mining. Simon tries to stop him in full flow with a question about the Thirty Three, but he manages to avoid an answer and completes his conspectus of the mineral deposits of the north of the country. Did you realise that they burrow out deep under the sea to reach the best seams? We know now!

Isla de Pascua: Easter Eggs!

This morning, Jon made a very special breakfast, Easter Island style: an onion and banana omelette! Now this may sound slightly strange to you, but believe us, it works. Try it like this: take a large, sweet and juicy onion and sweat it down gently in plenty of butter until translucent, adding three beaten eggs and then at the final stage, a chopped up ripe banana. Rapa Nui food tends to use the banana at every opportunity, sweet or savoury. You should try it, it’s really rather good!

And talking of food, Curry Night was a veritable feast, including another Easter Island staple: pineapple. Somehow, a hot, sweet and sour sauce is really lifted by the powerful red and yellow chillies we can find at each little greengrocers, together with large and juicy chunks of pineapple. We’re writing this on our penultimate night on the island: one week is just not enough to see all the wonderful archaeological sites, take in the stunning landscapes and multicoloured azure seascapes, chill, relax and generally recover from a punishing schedule around the continent. (Incidentally, that schedule is about to be resumed, so get out your maps and prepare to follow us around the northern zone of this expedition: it’s going to be hot and steamy!)
Tonight’s feast has just been Italian. An amazing chilli risotto, a hot Bolognese salsa, our ubiquitous tomato and onion salad, together with our trademark garlic bread. Now take a swift gander at the top of this blog; we did, after all promise you fantastic food. But as we wrote that, back in October, we had no idea that all the fantastic food we were promising would be home cooked. The fact is, this isn’t Asia. It’s certainly not Thailand with the street side woks rustling up heavenly flavours. Our dreams of getting hold of a heaped plate of food for under a dollar were shattered ages ago, but our food never fails! And it’s cheap!

Isla de pascua: Rano Kau and Orongo

“Tokirau!”
Well, we don’t want anybody feeling left out, do we? And besides this, our new canine companion from the Miru Hostel has really grown on us and it’s like he’s always been our third musketeer.
We walked towards the upper edge of Hanga Roa where houses and people became few and far as we made our way onto the off-road path towards the magnificent crater lake of Rano Kau and the ancient ceremonial village of Orongo. Tokirau, not deliberately, was always sure to keep us on the ball every so often by attracting other territorial Lupus-like beasts who charged in our direction, snarling. To be honest our quadrapedal amigo isn’t the fighting type and would, more often than not, retreat, hiding behind us for safety. We can assure you that standing between groups of vicious, protective dogs is not at all fun, but we remained remarkably unscathed.
The crater of Rano Kau was beyond our imagination and was not at all disappointing. In fact, it was breathtaking and so large that it seemed to be swallowing a huge chunk of Easter Island. Its dusty, sooty grey interior had collapsed into the well-preserved crater lake itself, which enclosed floating islands of various vegetation and colourful flora. Stopping at the top of this large hill for lunch of bread rolls and pate was doubtlessly the right decision before continuing to Orongo.
The sixteenth century village of Orongo appeared as small, flattened rocks, now with a light dusting of yellow lichens, that had been carefully stacked without any binding material to form wide, but shallow, fortresses looking out to the Pacific Ocean and Motu Nui, the uninhabited island located about one or two hundred metres offshore where the migratory seabirds, namely the Sooty Turns, arrive to lay their eggs. We were fortunate enough to see amazing petroglyphs, symbolic to Make-Make; the Rapa Nui god that revolves around a trinity of the Spring season, fertility rites and migratory seabirds. When one looks closely at these rock carvings, it’s just about possible to make out the Bird Man himself.
Talking of birds, we saw another large bird approaching the island from Santiago who had a tricky job landing in the strong crosswinds.