P9190014
Originally uploaded by paddydaley.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
River King
5 days later I have made it to Iquitos.
The boat was a worthwhile experience, but you know, I have to say that I think I will be flying back to Lima.
Henry V, as my vessel was named served faithfully and truly - aside from breaking down for a whole day and getting stuck on a sandbank for another, the voyage was relatively trouble free. I would have much preferred her to be named Henry VI - so I could have made all sorts of bad jokes about ´Keeping your HEAD above water´and ´Hey, how about that divorce-thing´ but you can´t have everything.
I felt very Huck Finn-ish as we made our way down the river. Visting little communities and sitting on the bow, watching the banks wax and wane. I do realise that Huck was on the Missisipi and that I was lacking an African American slave, but as always I strive to be politically correct.
Oh and the hardest thing about sleeping in a hammock is finding a place to put your head. And not putting your foot in the face of the person next to you while disembarking from aforementioned hammock.
But no matter how I got here, I have made it to the banks of the Amazon. Which looks very river-like. Iquitos is a fairly funky town. Oh and I going on a four day jungle adventure as of Tuesday... which will be exciting. Yay for me!
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
The boat was a worthwhile experience, but you know, I have to say that I think I will be flying back to Lima.
Henry V, as my vessel was named served faithfully and truly - aside from breaking down for a whole day and getting stuck on a sandbank for another, the voyage was relatively trouble free. I would have much preferred her to be named Henry VI - so I could have made all sorts of bad jokes about ´Keeping your HEAD above water´and ´Hey, how about that divorce-thing´ but you can´t have everything.
I felt very Huck Finn-ish as we made our way down the river. Visting little communities and sitting on the bow, watching the banks wax and wane. I do realise that Huck was on the Missisipi and that I was lacking an African American slave, but as always I strive to be politically correct.
Oh and the hardest thing about sleeping in a hammock is finding a place to put your head. And not putting your foot in the face of the person next to you while disembarking from aforementioned hammock.
But no matter how I got here, I have made it to the banks of the Amazon. Which looks very river-like. Iquitos is a fairly funky town. Oh and I going on a four day jungle adventure as of Tuesday... which will be exciting. Yay for me!
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Hot August to early September Nights.
As I have been told - oh so many times... get a new interesting tidbit to share with foreigners, people! - in the last few months, Peru has 3 major constituant regions. La Costa (the coast), La Sierra (the mountains) and La Selva (the Jungle). And if you want to know Peru, really really know Peru, to the extent that you would feel comfortable to play no holds barred truth or dare with it, then you have to visit each of these 3 regions.
So here I am, in the river town of Pucallpa, sitting in a pool of my own sweat, all bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to take a 4 day river boat up to the frontier town of Iquitos, which is by the way, the largest human settlement that is not accessible by road. (C´mon, you know you are impressed). Yahoo! Except of course, in classic Paddyesque timing, I arrive early on a Saturday morning( with, I might add, absolutely no concrete concept of the actual day of the week) only to be informed that boats do not leave on the weekend and that I would have to stay in town until the coming Monday. And Pucallpa, let me say, is not what you would call a party town, unless you consider comparing personal brands of body odour with the populace your idea of a good time.
Ah well, at least it gives me time to buy a hammock (Yes! Hammock!) and stock up on super duper insect repellent. And sweat some more. Did I mention it was quite hot?
Hmm, what else to tell you? That the Peruvian attitude to time is not flexible, but rather inexplicable. It appears to be that to be held waiting at a bus terminal 3 and a half hours after the stated time without any form of explanation is entirely acceptable, however to be stoped at road construction for over 21 seconds is sufficient grounds to declare a coup d´etat, dress the bus driver in drag, hang him from the ceiling and use him as an impromptu pinata.
Oh and I have now seen Machu Pichu, knocking another item off my list of important things to do before the onset of senility. One of the more interesting aspects of the site was the small group of young boys dressed in what appeared to be modified table clothes. They are actually imitating the Chispees, who were apparently the Inca´s empire messanger network. These boys make their living by racing the buses from the heights of Machu Pichu down to the train station back to Cusco. No mean feat I can tell you. Especially when you have to stop everytime the foot track crosses the road and do a tribal dance while screaming ´Inti Inti Inti Inti´ I wanted to give it a go, but the table cloth wouldn´t fit me.
Now if you´ll excuse me, I am off to have my 6th shower of the day .
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
So here I am, in the river town of Pucallpa, sitting in a pool of my own sweat, all bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to take a 4 day river boat up to the frontier town of Iquitos, which is by the way, the largest human settlement that is not accessible by road. (C´mon, you know you are impressed). Yahoo! Except of course, in classic Paddyesque timing, I arrive early on a Saturday morning( with, I might add, absolutely no concrete concept of the actual day of the week) only to be informed that boats do not leave on the weekend and that I would have to stay in town until the coming Monday. And Pucallpa, let me say, is not what you would call a party town, unless you consider comparing personal brands of body odour with the populace your idea of a good time.
Ah well, at least it gives me time to buy a hammock (Yes! Hammock!) and stock up on super duper insect repellent. And sweat some more. Did I mention it was quite hot?
Hmm, what else to tell you? That the Peruvian attitude to time is not flexible, but rather inexplicable. It appears to be that to be held waiting at a bus terminal 3 and a half hours after the stated time without any form of explanation is entirely acceptable, however to be stoped at road construction for over 21 seconds is sufficient grounds to declare a coup d´etat, dress the bus driver in drag, hang him from the ceiling and use him as an impromptu pinata.
Oh and I have now seen Machu Pichu, knocking another item off my list of important things to do before the onset of senility. One of the more interesting aspects of the site was the small group of young boys dressed in what appeared to be modified table clothes. They are actually imitating the Chispees, who were apparently the Inca´s empire messanger network. These boys make their living by racing the buses from the heights of Machu Pichu down to the train station back to Cusco. No mean feat I can tell you. Especially when you have to stop everytime the foot track crosses the road and do a tribal dance while screaming ´Inti Inti Inti Inti´ I wanted to give it a go, but the table cloth wouldn´t fit me.
Now if you´ll excuse me, I am off to have my 6th shower of the day .
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Stranger Danger.
Ahh... Cajamarca.
I am back in Peru... and like any steadfast and reliable friend, Peru has provided for me where others have dismally failed. (*cough* Ecuador *cough* *cough*) I write to you now with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step that was not to be seen before. (Well, that would be so if I were actually stepping, since I am sitting down, maybe it should be a bounce in my... posture)
Yes, I have found my thermal bath. And not just any old thermal bath. No I am a bit more special than that. A bit more regal, shall we say. So it was off down to the Baños del Inca where good old Atahualpa, the last Incan Emperor used to come to have his back scrubbed, his hair washed and perhaps the odd game of Marco Polo with his concubines.
I tell you, I have not found water this hot in all of my travels to date. Now this is probably not that difficult an achievement considering the general water temperature in South America tends to range from tepid to ´Excuse me sir, may I borrow your spatula, my head seems to have been frozen to my shoulder´. But despite this I assure that these baths were hot. Steamy. Scalding. Chock full of celciusly derived goodness. HOT.
Then of course, following my theraputic bath there was nothing else to be done except sign in for an all over body massage. Mmmm, body massage.
I was one very relaxed ex-paralegal, I tell you. And I can only assume that Mr Atahualpa was accustomed to feeling the same. Perhaps this was the problem.
You see, Cajamarca is also the site where Incan Empire really began to go to pieces. Perhaps the arrival of the Spanish, all 180 of them, was to Atahualpa just another potential group of massuers. Swedish, Spanish - you can see where the confusion could arise. Because despite having an army of 80,000 at his immediate disposal, he deemed the most appropriate course of action was to leave this army resting while he enter into an relatively enclosed area with a small retinue. The motivation for this action was the desire to learn more about Christianity. Too trusting by half. The Spanish then preceded to beat the living daylights out of his retinue and lock the Incan Emperor up in a small building in the centre of the city.
But Mr Atahualpa was not the sharpest tool in the box- he did not learn from this experience anything about the nature of his new illegal arrivals. So when the Spanish said ´Sorry, this has all been a bit of a mistake, tell you what, you fill a sizable room up with gold, and we will let you go´ rather than responding ´Yeah right, like I believe that you pale faced goons, watch now as my empire of 10-15 million people grinds your puny force into an oily pulp!!´, Mr Atahualpa said ´Sure!! You seem like honourable enough guys, what could go wrong´ The message was sent out to his people, the room was filled with gold, Atahualpa was promptly executed and the Incan empire composed as it was of a lot of different peoples who didn´t much like each other, began a fairly rapid disintegration.
Bit of a shame really.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
I am back in Peru... and like any steadfast and reliable friend, Peru has provided for me where others have dismally failed. (*cough* Ecuador *cough* *cough*) I write to you now with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step that was not to be seen before. (Well, that would be so if I were actually stepping, since I am sitting down, maybe it should be a bounce in my... posture)
Yes, I have found my thermal bath. And not just any old thermal bath. No I am a bit more special than that. A bit more regal, shall we say. So it was off down to the Baños del Inca where good old Atahualpa, the last Incan Emperor used to come to have his back scrubbed, his hair washed and perhaps the odd game of Marco Polo with his concubines.
I tell you, I have not found water this hot in all of my travels to date. Now this is probably not that difficult an achievement considering the general water temperature in South America tends to range from tepid to ´Excuse me sir, may I borrow your spatula, my head seems to have been frozen to my shoulder´. But despite this I assure that these baths were hot. Steamy. Scalding. Chock full of celciusly derived goodness. HOT.
Then of course, following my theraputic bath there was nothing else to be done except sign in for an all over body massage. Mmmm, body massage.
I was one very relaxed ex-paralegal, I tell you. And I can only assume that Mr Atahualpa was accustomed to feeling the same. Perhaps this was the problem.
You see, Cajamarca is also the site where Incan Empire really began to go to pieces. Perhaps the arrival of the Spanish, all 180 of them, was to Atahualpa just another potential group of massuers. Swedish, Spanish - you can see where the confusion could arise. Because despite having an army of 80,000 at his immediate disposal, he deemed the most appropriate course of action was to leave this army resting while he enter into an relatively enclosed area with a small retinue. The motivation for this action was the desire to learn more about Christianity. Too trusting by half. The Spanish then preceded to beat the living daylights out of his retinue and lock the Incan Emperor up in a small building in the centre of the city.
But Mr Atahualpa was not the sharpest tool in the box- he did not learn from this experience anything about the nature of his new illegal arrivals. So when the Spanish said ´Sorry, this has all been a bit of a mistake, tell you what, you fill a sizable room up with gold, and we will let you go´ rather than responding ´Yeah right, like I believe that you pale faced goons, watch now as my empire of 10-15 million people grinds your puny force into an oily pulp!!´, Mr Atahualpa said ´Sure!! You seem like honourable enough guys, what could go wrong´ The message was sent out to his people, the room was filled with gold, Atahualpa was promptly executed and the Incan empire composed as it was of a lot of different peoples who didn´t much like each other, began a fairly rapid disintegration.
Bit of a shame really.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
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