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T R A V E L .S
T O R I E S
»Kayaking on Lake
Titicaca
»The Choro Trail: trekking
the Zongo Valley to Coroico
»Venezuela: Kayaking
in the Orinoco Delta
S L I D E S H O W S:
»The
Sama Reserve in Tarija
»Two Weeks in Apolobamba:
Trekking, Camelids & Kallawayas
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J U N E / 0 6
Wednesday June 28 2006
A Walk in the Woods, sort of.
A few days ago Frank and I took a walk through
the Alto Sopocachi neighbourhood to Monticulo Park, a hilltop patch of green
with big views across La Paz.
The mirador at Monticulo is a favourite make-out
spot for young lovers. It's understandable: looking across the
city to Miraflores with Cerro Illimani in the distance stirs up
big emotions.
Portraits of the "Desparacedos of 1972" - political
activists who were killed under orders from dictator General Banzer
- frame a small memorial park in Monticulo.
The beloved Patron of Tarija is kept behind
bars.
Monday June 26 2006
Some strange and beautiful plants grow in sunny
La Paz.
June 21 2006 / Summer Solstice
"Refrecos", or refreshments, in the Huyustu
Market, La Paz: peach juice, and sweet tea with floating dehydrated
whole peaches.
Monday June 12 2006
La Paz's Gran Poder takes "glitter" to a higher
level
Saturday was the annual celebration of La Paz's
patron saint nuestra Señor de Gran Poder. Teams made up
of professional and business associations, communities, women's
and indigenous groups, and unions danced - accompanied by racous
marching bands - from sunrise to beyond sunset along La Paz's
steep and winding streets.
The streets were an explosion of colour. Chicas
in short skirts strutted in sparkley platform boots and Cholitas
draped in glittering shawls twirled their skirts revealing rarely
seen white peticoats. Large groups of men dressed as mythical
condors (feathers and all), sly devils and menacing monkeys danced
in rhythm to big brass bands and thumping drums. Equally entertaining,
and perhaps the most energetic bunch of the day, were the street-sellers.
A steady stream of cold beer, hot lunches, sun hats, toys for
the kids and even used cameras were on offer.
Cholitas gettin' down while their skirts lift
up.
The Commercial Union (the ties are a nice touch)
in pink feathers and "wedding cake" skirts. there's a nice detail
of their sparkly boots here.
To see more Gran Poder photos click here
Wednesday June 07 2006
La Paz stencil art
"You have to use your tongue"
Danger. Men Working.
I hit this street-art jackpot just a few blocks
from where I'm staying in Central La Paz.
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Friday June 2
2006
Welcome to Cochabamba
You can make a phone call (and get photocopies) aswell as shop
for old Bolivian furniture at this shop on Antique-row in Cochabamba's
calle España.
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T R A V E L .S
T O R I E S
Two weeks in Apolobamba (Aug 05)
click here for slideshow
This region north of Lake Titicaca, high up
on the Altiplano, is home to the Cordillera Apolobamba. Apart
from stunning peaks, creaking glaciers, Inca trails and Vicuñas
(dainty little camelids, a smaller, shyer version of an alpaca)
this remote area is home to the well-respected Kallawayas (travelling
shamans), goldminers, weavers and Alpaca breeders, amongst others
who try to eke out a living in this rugged land.
Life is tough on the Altiplano:
An elderly couple getting off the bus in the
barren Ulla Ulla Vicuña Reserve, in the Apolobamba protected
area. As I squinted under the blinding sun, I couldn't see a house
or village anywhere. I wondered how they would carry themselves
and their heavy sacks as the elderly man was blind and could hardly
walk, and his wife was frail and hunched over from years of back-breaking
work. I often thought of them as I struggled over 5000 meter passes
and shivered in the biting cold during a five-day trek through
the Southern Apolobamba range.
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While contemplating the implications of our
taxi's second flat tire, I explored this high-altitude cemetery
on the Tarija-Villazon road, one of Bolivia's many unpaved Autopistas.
Reserva Biológica de Cordillera Sama
(May 05)
click here for slideshow
Three hours drive, and 1800 meters up from the
Southern City of Tarija lies a basin on the Altiplano containing
four lagoons punctuated with pink flamingos, a wandering sand
dune and dozen or so traditional pueblos. This is the Sama Reserve,
a protected area since 1996, and breathtakingly beautiful. The
Reserve has had much attention from international aid agencies,
and is being developed for eco-tourism. There is a new Albergue
in pueblo Tajzara operated by the community. From here just the
views alone - of the lagoons at sunrise and emerging stars at
sunset - make the journey to this isolated park worth the effort.
We spent two days exploring the area on mountain
bikes, followed by an overnight hike down a well-preserved pre-Inca
trail to the wine-making valley of Tarija.
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Two Warao boys paddle into the village of Curiapo,
South Orinoco Delta, Venezuela.
Kayaking on the River Orinoco click
here for more photos
"Puri Puri", or sand fly, was our
speed boat captain's name, and he drove like a stinging insect
should: persistent, swift and ruthless. His built-for-speed wooden
boat was saddled with two 70 horse-power motors. It felt like
we were riding on the top of an hydrofoil, flying above the surface
of the water, except for the rhythmic bashing against waves. Before
take-off, we were directed to load our gear in front. Meanwhile,
the remaining eight local passengers scrambled for the back. They
knew what they had coming. Gorgé, the doctor in Curiapo,
expertly applied his rain gear as if preparing for surgery. The
woman in front of me, positioned her young son against her breast
and tightly wound a plastic sheet over her shoulders, hermetically
sealing herself and her child into one. "Are these people
cautious, or what?", I thought as the raindrops, and the
140 horsepowers, started. At first the torrential downpour was
refreshing, within ten minutes I was starting to shiver, and my
lower spine and pelvic bone felt like they were beginning to fracture.
Sitting on top of our two kayak bags wedged
between wooden planks, we were getting a serious walloping at
the front of the boat. I kept my head down, occasionally peering
out at the magnificent scenery whilst gulping for air. When we
arrived at Curiapo, our destination, three hours later, sun- and
wind-burned, hair standing on end (even Frank's) and ears pasted
to the sides of our heads, we threatened: "This had better
be good," ... and it was.
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In the pouring rain, Frank does his best "Hunchback
of Notre Dame" impression by draping his poncho over his
backpack. We kept asking ourselves, "if this is the dry season,
what's it like in the wet?"
Trekking the Choro Trail (Aug 14-19, 2004) click
here for more photos
Back in January 2004, my partner Frank and I
had made an attempt at walking the El Choro Trail. It was the
rainy season, and we knew we were taking a risk at walking when
the path would be slippery, and storms could last for days. What
we didn't foresee, was that we would never even make it to the
trail head to start the trip.
After missing the 6 am bus to Zongo, our starting
point two hours up the road, we haggled with a "Taxista"
to to take us there. We felt we'd gotten off to a bad start, but
had overcome our temporary hurdles and were on our way. Now in
the rusty old taxi, bouncing up the bumpy mud road through fog
and light drizzle, we were soon watching the road through a blurry
patch in the windshield made by a single makeshift wiper feebly
smudging snowflakes to one side. The taxi would repeatedly sputter
to a halt and, after a carburetor adjustment, cough back into
action. But before too long we were outside in a blizzard, pushing
the now dead taxi uphill in minus 7 degree temperatures. At 4600
meters altitude, our lungs felt like they would explode from the
exertion. Panting, Frank and I looked at each other and agreed
that there were too many bad signs to start the trip that day.
We turned back to La Paz, determined to hike
El Choro in the dry season the following August.
Upon returning to La Paz seven months later,
we were very excited to hear reports of clear skies, warm temperatures
and that a brand new taxi would be waiting to take us up to Zongo
the following day.
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Kayaking on Lake Titicaca (Oct 2-9, 2004) click
here for more photos
"Maki pur kama!" we waved to the fishermen
as we back-paddled out of the plank landing on the Island of Tiquiri.
We had learned the night before how to say "hasta luego/see
you later" in Ayamara, the language of the people of this
land. This was our third morning of a seven-day paddle around
Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake on earth.
The light here is intoxicating. At 3860 meters,
an ether of thin air, intense sunshine, blue sky and ultra marine
water crystallizes focus, saturates colours and deepens shadows.
Ultra vivid scenes filled our minds and hearts as we navigated
our way past rocky coastline, tiny islets, tranquil white-sand
beaches and cliff hanging Inca Ruins.
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Thanks for visiting.
all photographs lindsay simmonds ©2005/2006
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