Friday 28th September: Setting off to trek the worlds deepest canyon
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Sunday 30th September: Experiencing the grandness of the Andean Condor...
So after succesfully finishing a 5-day trek through the Andes, I eagerly booked my next adventure into the Cocla Canyon with a group called Land Adventures. 3 days, 2 nights, all meals and accommodation and transpot included... at an unbelievable price of 40 US dollars!! There would be no porters to set up my tent and gently wake me with a hot cup of coca tea on this trek!!!!!
At 5.15am I got picked up by my guide and joined 10 other young backpackers (mixture of Germans, Belgium, English, Australian and Americans) to arrive at the (very) public bus station to catch a local bus to Chivay and then on to Cabanaconde where the trek was scheduled to begin.
6 looong bus hours later, we arrived at Cabanaconde. The bus journey was.... interesting. Think Africa local busses (live animals on board, overcrowding, people standing and sitting wherever there is space and luggage strapped to the roof) but substitute the African languages for Spanish and you have our trip. For the last 2 hours, I somehow ended up with an 8-year old boy sitting on my lap with his box of galletitas (biscuits and chocolates) that he had been trying to sell to some tousrists in the previous town, on his lap.
Well, they did warn us that we were going to experience the life of the locals... and that we did, yessireee!
After a lunch of cold rice, onions and 2 dodgy pieces of chicken (thumb size each), we headed off into the Cabnyon. Wow- magnificent views!!! A 3 hour steep and dangerous descent found us at the bottom of the canyon and we then woulnd our way through 2 tiny little villages on our way to Tapay where we would spend our first night. At around 6 pm, we arrived, hot tired to a cluster of mud brick buildings that were to be out accommodation for the night! Beds made out of pieces of bamboo with horse blankets thrown on top, and cold showers were a strangely welcome sight after 5 hours pf busses and another 5 of trekking!
The local family cooked for us (see photo of kitchen on Facebook!!) whilst we all brought hellishly expensive bottles of water and coke from the local store.
The only access to these 8 villages in the canyon is by foot or donkey, so everything is locally produced and anything brought (carried) into the canyon is hiked up hugely!
Needless to say, I scratched and itched my way through the night.
Saturday 29th- after a leisurely breakfast of oily pancakes and black coffee (milk is a huge commofity in the canyon), we set off to visit some of the other villages, see how the people live, visit their farms (mainly cactus), schools and the one hospital that services the entire canyon region. The doctor had just got back form a 2 day trek over the mountain to visit a sick patient in one of the 8 ´´counties´´ of the canyon and had been up all night doing paperwork. One doctor, one nurse and VERY minimal equipment and medicine. A really heartbreaking story. Any very sick patient has to be carried up the valley by 4 men and 2 pieces of bamboo, up to Cabanaconde (at least a 3-hour journey on foot if not more). In fact, the hosptital has got so few equipment that if the doctor needs to sterilize any of his equipment for a birth for example, he first has to walk up the canyon to Cabanaconde and get the instruments sterilised there and then return to the 3-room hosptital...
(to be continued...internet time runnng out!!)
Monday, 1 October 2007
Arriving in Arequipa...
Wednesday 26th September: An interminable Bus Journey
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Thursday 27th September: the second longest day of my trip!
As with most backpacking trips, there are some days when one must forget about all the good parts of travelling and focus for a couple of hours on the mundane and boring admin side of travelling in a completely foreign country... and so this was my day.
Having only made a decision the night before (after a few too many of Paddys excellent Pisco Sours), it was now up to me to run around town and find the best priced bus ticket to my next destination- Arequipa, as well as wash my loaded backpack full of dirty clothes (never have I wanted to throw away so many otherwise decent clothes and just buy a whole new set... eeeughh, 5 days of trekking had not been kind to my wardrobe!).
And so it was, that the Wednesday was spent in internet cafes, travel agencies, coffee shops and then a final farewell to my fellow fantastic trekkers before heading off to the Cusco bus station for the night bus to Arequipa. Hopefully to be my first and last 9 hour overnight bus journey!
Let me just sum up in a few words- the buses are great, the roads are not. And so after bumping and winding for a full 9 hours, we finally made it to Arequipa and I took myself off to a hostel.
Having managed to doze for all of 20 minutes, this was not going to be the day of happy chicken. The hostel turned out to be miles from the centre of town, and really expensive for a tiny room, an opened pack of condoms, and the dirtiest shared bathroom Ive come across.
Deciding that maybe a brisk walk into town for a cup of coffee and a look see would make the situation seem a bit better, I set off with the worlds worst map and found myself wandering the streets of Perus second largest city with no sign of Plaza de Armas. After a couple of interesting conversations with the local hairdresser, shop owner and ice cream vendor, I was back on track!
Spent the morning exploring the Santa Catalina Monestary: Founded in 1579, it has been a working nunnery since then. Opened to the public in 1970, it has been named as one of UNESCOS top destinations world wide. Constructed from Volcanic rock, the nuns constructed private cells where they were hidden by high walls from the rest of the world. Shrouded in mystery, only a handful of people have been allowed to enter the monastery in the last 500 years and the cells, the chapels and the courtyards have all been beautifully preserved. It is an amazing experience to see how these nuns lived, cooked, cleaned, ate and worshipped all those years ago.
It is still a working nunnery and 30 nuns still live in a secluded area of the monastery.
After touring the city, I tracked down another hostel that had been recommended to me in Cusco and promptly checked myself in to this (cheaper and far nicer) hostel!
I also booked my next adventure- a 3 day Colca Canyon trek into the worlds deepest canyon and a day with the amazing birds- the Andean Condors!
Caribbean Chickens Backpacker tip of the Day: Overnight busses and dodgy hostels do not a happy chicken make.
to
Thursday 27th September: the second longest day of my trip!
As with most backpacking trips, there are some days when one must forget about all the good parts of travelling and focus for a couple of hours on the mundane and boring admin side of travelling in a completely foreign country... and so this was my day.
Having only made a decision the night before (after a few too many of Paddys excellent Pisco Sours), it was now up to me to run around town and find the best priced bus ticket to my next destination- Arequipa, as well as wash my loaded backpack full of dirty clothes (never have I wanted to throw away so many otherwise decent clothes and just buy a whole new set... eeeughh, 5 days of trekking had not been kind to my wardrobe!).
And so it was, that the Wednesday was spent in internet cafes, travel agencies, coffee shops and then a final farewell to my fellow fantastic trekkers before heading off to the Cusco bus station for the night bus to Arequipa. Hopefully to be my first and last 9 hour overnight bus journey!
Let me just sum up in a few words- the buses are great, the roads are not. And so after bumping and winding for a full 9 hours, we finally made it to Arequipa and I took myself off to a hostel.
Having managed to doze for all of 20 minutes, this was not going to be the day of happy chicken. The hostel turned out to be miles from the centre of town, and really expensive for a tiny room, an opened pack of condoms, and the dirtiest shared bathroom Ive come across.
Deciding that maybe a brisk walk into town for a cup of coffee and a look see would make the situation seem a bit better, I set off with the worlds worst map and found myself wandering the streets of Perus second largest city with no sign of Plaza de Armas. After a couple of interesting conversations with the local hairdresser, shop owner and ice cream vendor, I was back on track!
Spent the morning exploring the Santa Catalina Monestary: Founded in 1579, it has been a working nunnery since then. Opened to the public in 1970, it has been named as one of UNESCOS top destinations world wide. Constructed from Volcanic rock, the nuns constructed private cells where they were hidden by high walls from the rest of the world. Shrouded in mystery, only a handful of people have been allowed to enter the monastery in the last 500 years and the cells, the chapels and the courtyards have all been beautifully preserved. It is an amazing experience to see how these nuns lived, cooked, cleaned, ate and worshipped all those years ago.
It is still a working nunnery and 30 nuns still live in a secluded area of the monastery.
After touring the city, I tracked down another hostel that had been recommended to me in Cusco and promptly checked myself in to this (cheaper and far nicer) hostel!
I also booked my next adventure- a 3 day Colca Canyon trek into the worlds deepest canyon and a day with the amazing birds- the Andean Condors!
Caribbean Chickens Backpacker tip of the Day: Overnight busses and dodgy hostels do not a happy chicken make.
Thursday, 27 September 2007
FIVE AMAZING DAYS.
Friday 21st September: The Chicken Gets a year Older and Wiser
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Tuesday 25th September: 5 days of Trekking the Andes
Well, I am not sure where to begin and how to pack the 5 days worth of experiences into one blog entry. Unfortunately, it really is one of those cases that unless you experience this trip for yourself, you cannot quite comprehend what an utterly humbling experience it is...
Let me start by saying that I have always been in awe of mountains. I think they are majestic creatures that are beautiful but immensely powerful and cannot be underestimated... I like to ski on them, snowboard (well i try!) down them, hike up and down them and generally appreciate them a lot. So, when i was about 12 years old and I first came across the story of the Incas who built an undiscovered city high up in the mountains to escape the Spanish conquistadores in the 16th century, a place so far from civilisation that it lay undiscovered until 1917 (!!!!!), i just knew that I had to visit this place, this city they called Machu Picchu.
There are several ways one can ´discover´Macchu Picchu for oneself. One way is via the route the Incas themselves walked all those years ago, called not surprisingly, The Inca Trek. But, like most popular activities, one has to book up to 8 months in advance to get a reservation on this trek. So 2 other routes to the ancient city (both of which spend some time on the inca trail itself) have been construsted to keep the tourists happy; the generally casual 4-day hike called the Lares Trek which traverses the hills and winds its way through beautiful valleys and past traditional villages, and the Salkantay Trek, a 5-day marathon trek up through the Salkantay pass of 4900m and then 4 more days of hiking to get to the little town of Aguas Calientes, the gateway to Machu Picchu. Ofcourse, being a thoroughly adventurous chicken, I knew that Salkantay was the one for me! The final option (one I like to call the Ámerican Tourist´version, is to take a train from Cuzco to Aguas Calientes, and then a 30 min bus trip up to the base of the Macchu Pichu city.
So early on Friday the 21st September, I both turned the rather mature age of 27 years and started the trip that I had been dreaming about for over 15 years...
So the 9 of us met at the chilly hour of 5.30am in the main square to take a 2 hour bus trip to the town of Mollepata for breakfast before driving on to our departure point of Cruzpata at 3200 mts. I had opted to go with a company called SAS travel, and was more and more so glad of this decision. A very professional company that goes to every extreme to ensure that we were comfortable and well looked after, and very well fed! We had a fleet of 8 mules and horses and about 4 porters and 2 cooks that met us at Cruzpata. A little more expensive then some of the other local adventure companies, but trusyt me, after 10 hours of trekking, they are worth every cent spent when they meet you with a hot cup of coca, all your tents set up and mattresses and sleeping bags ready to be crawled into!
The first day was spent acclimitising to the altitude and remembering to breathe whilst walking vertically up a mountain!
The day was beautiful and clear and we had magniicent views of Salkantay mountain.
After about 4 hours of walking (a warm up only!), and after the same number of hours chattin and getting to know eachother, we arrived at our first campsite in Sorapampa at 3850 mts. High enough to really feel the cold wind that comes rushing down the valley from the snow-capped Salkantay mountain.
Getting to know the group, I immediately clicked with a couple from Manchester- Fiona and Phil- both around my age and travelling for a year. We continued to have a good number of laughs throughout the 5 days. In fact, the entire group really got along well, which was evident as we all met up after the trek for dinners, lunches and coffees in Cuzco for a few days after the trek!
Lunch and dinner were 3-course affairs at every meal time (and boy you are so hungry you eat them every time!), which included a soup, hot dinner of THREE different types of carbs (rice, sweet potatoes, pasta etc), meat dish, vegetables and then different types of teas, coffee, milo and ofcourse coca leaves! They really push the hot drinks on you as apparently drinking cold water in the high altitude is really not good for your stomach (digestive system slows doiwn in the cold and altitude and the cold water can cause further problems). By the first evening, the Dutch lady got hit by the altitude and she was the first one down with stomach problems and headaches. But the rest of us finished off the food in no time. I was constantly amazed at the qaulity and quantity of food that the chef produced on 2 tiny gas rings and a couple of pots... One porter was assigned to carry about 50-0dd eggs that were strapped to his back and every time he came jogging past us in the morning (after the porters had taken down our tents and tidied up after our breakfast) we´d all shout out to Be Careful with the Huevos!!
That night in my little tent, I listened to the rumble of avalanches as I lay curled up in ALL of my fleeces, my wolly hat, gloves, sleeping bag and thick horse blanket! Trust me, when you´re that wrapped up and that cold, the toilet can wait!!
Talking about toilets, for the 4 days we were in the mountains, the bathroom consisted of behind a bush (if there was one!) whilst we were trekking and then at night the porters would dig a small hole and put a tent around it! At 8pm on your way to bed, in the pitch blackness, one could never be certain if you were aiming at the hole or splashing your boots and bottom of your trousers (man, I really wanted to burn all my clothes after those 5-days they were that dirty!!).
Saturday 22nd September (Chicken is 27 and one day):
After a very restless sleep, we were all awoken ar 4.30am by general camp noises by the porters and by the many roosters that seemed to be everywhere we went! At 5.30am, we got a knock on our respective tents by the porters with a steaming cup of coffee or tea. Next we had a civilised breakfast of porridge, pancakes and omelettes, got given our packed snacks by our porters and we left camp for the 2nd and biggest day of the trek- the climb to the top of Salkantay pass! The Duth girl had been sick all night however she put on a brave face and followed us slowly up to the top. Luckily our group had 2 guides, so one went ahead with the rest of us and the other carried the oxygen pack and stayed close to the Dutch couple.
After 4 hours of vertical hiking, the group made it to the top. About 30 mins later the Dutch arrived. We waited till we were all together and then snapped some group pics, built a Waypaca (mound of stones) for the Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) and got off that mountain as quick as possible! It was absolutely freezing on the top and unfortunately the weather had changed over night so we climbed mostly in the clouds and even got a bit of snow at the top!
After another 2 hours of descent, we finally sat down to lunch, followed by 3 more hours of decent to our next campsite in the beauiful valley of Rayan Niyoc, a pleasnt 2900 mts.
Sunday 23rd September (27 plus 2):
Another 4.30am start thanks to some chickens and a really restless horse. Tea served in our tents, breakfast and then we set off to trek through the jungle/rain forest. OInce again, we only had sun for half a day and then the clouds set in and we donned our enormous ponchos and walked in the rain, through rivers (thank goodness for waterproof boots!) and into a little jungle village which we camped outside of. Unfortunately, I was unable to hide the fact that my otherwise comfy boots had , during all this descending, started to talk back to me, and they were not playing nice! My right baby toe had swollen and was one enormous blister whilst the right side of my foot was blistered and bruised as well. My great team took a group decision that the best thing they could do for me, was hold me down, sanitise a safety pin (ie use a flame) and burst the enormour blisters. Not exactly fun and meant that I hobbled around for the rest of the evening in my flip flops, my toes turning a shade of freezing blue! Dutch girl still sick, Aussie guy unable to eat and British girl twisted her knee. Oh, and for those of you who know my unfortunate injury terack record this year, my left torn calf muscle had basically given up the goat and I was limping on my right foot whilst leaning opn my trusty Inca stick (oh, I have yet to mention my closest companion on this tek- my wooden carved Inca walking stick. I had resisted in investing in these ancy walking poles that the others had brought, but before we even ot halfway into day one, I had brought myself a walkng stick- man they are the bomb!!).
That evening we had a huge storm and we huddled in our tents, desperately hoping our rain soaked clothes might dry before the mornign (ofcourse not silly!). So next day all one could do was put on the same muddy and wet clothes for an 8 hour trek to the Hydro Plant, where we would join up with civilisation again.
Monday 24th September (27 plus 3):
Yep, 4.22am wake up call. Thanks roosters. Unfortunately Yoga girl with the twisted knee was man down and SAS organised a vehicle to take her direct to the Hydro plant. The rest of us had a 5 hour climb up to 3000m, over Llactaplata and then down to the Hydro plant at 1870 mts.
Squeeing my right foot into my boot and attempting not to scream in agony, I wasn´t exactly looking forward to the day...however, it turned out to be the one of the higlights of the tour. The climb up the valley and over Llactaplata afforded us some absolutely breathtaking views of the valley and then once we got over the top, we got our first view of Macchu Picchu in the distance, surrounded by towering cliff faces and rolling green hills that seem to pierce the sky.
It was breath taking and made the pain of a 3 hour descent bearable.
That night we spent at the bottom of the Macchu Picchu mountain in a tiny charismatic town called Aguas Calientes. After 4 cold, muddy, hot, sweaty, rainy days of trekkng, we each got to have a hot shower and sleep in a real bed! Although, this did not mean we could sleep in, nope, we got a 4.30am wake up call to ensure we were on the 5,30am bus up the mountain to see Macchu Picchu at sunrise!
Tuesday 25th September: Mom Chicken turns an undisclosed age and Macchu Picchu is discovered by the Caribbean Chicken!
A day that will be etched into my memory forever. After waiting for so long to explore the Inca city, I thought I might be a little disappointed.
Not in the slightest! We spent from 6am until 3pm exploring the city, climbing Waynu Picchu (the sharp cliff/mountain behind the city), trekking to the Inca Bridge (the gateweay carved out of the sheer cliff face that was the entrance to the city- no wonder the Spanish could never find it!) and wandering around the preserved temples and living quarters of the Incas.
We then all decided to skip the bus home and walked the 2 hour walk back to Aguas Calentes (just because we hadnt walked enough!), joined up with our SAS guides and about 100 other tourists and took the night train back to Cuzco, arriving back, tired, muddy but supremely happy!
After a quick shower, the group met up in the lively Irish bat- Paddys to basically relive the 5 days, shun the rest of the bar who had not lived through this experience, reminisce about blisters, broken knees, upset stomachs and overcoming the odds! Wow, we were so totally a Hunters Gold advert right then and there!!
Caribbean Chicken´s Backpacker Tip: Just Do It.
(ps- sorry for typos, rushing!)
to
Tuesday 25th September: 5 days of Trekking the Andes
Well, I am not sure where to begin and how to pack the 5 days worth of experiences into one blog entry. Unfortunately, it really is one of those cases that unless you experience this trip for yourself, you cannot quite comprehend what an utterly humbling experience it is...
Let me start by saying that I have always been in awe of mountains. I think they are majestic creatures that are beautiful but immensely powerful and cannot be underestimated... I like to ski on them, snowboard (well i try!) down them, hike up and down them and generally appreciate them a lot. So, when i was about 12 years old and I first came across the story of the Incas who built an undiscovered city high up in the mountains to escape the Spanish conquistadores in the 16th century, a place so far from civilisation that it lay undiscovered until 1917 (!!!!!), i just knew that I had to visit this place, this city they called Machu Picchu.
There are several ways one can ´discover´Macchu Picchu for oneself. One way is via the route the Incas themselves walked all those years ago, called not surprisingly, The Inca Trek. But, like most popular activities, one has to book up to 8 months in advance to get a reservation on this trek. So 2 other routes to the ancient city (both of which spend some time on the inca trail itself) have been construsted to keep the tourists happy; the generally casual 4-day hike called the Lares Trek which traverses the hills and winds its way through beautiful valleys and past traditional villages, and the Salkantay Trek, a 5-day marathon trek up through the Salkantay pass of 4900m and then 4 more days of hiking to get to the little town of Aguas Calientes, the gateway to Machu Picchu. Ofcourse, being a thoroughly adventurous chicken, I knew that Salkantay was the one for me! The final option (one I like to call the Ámerican Tourist´version, is to take a train from Cuzco to Aguas Calientes, and then a 30 min bus trip up to the base of the Macchu Pichu city.
So early on Friday the 21st September, I both turned the rather mature age of 27 years and started the trip that I had been dreaming about for over 15 years...
So the 9 of us met at the chilly hour of 5.30am in the main square to take a 2 hour bus trip to the town of Mollepata for breakfast before driving on to our departure point of Cruzpata at 3200 mts. I had opted to go with a company called SAS travel, and was more and more so glad of this decision. A very professional company that goes to every extreme to ensure that we were comfortable and well looked after, and very well fed! We had a fleet of 8 mules and horses and about 4 porters and 2 cooks that met us at Cruzpata. A little more expensive then some of the other local adventure companies, but trusyt me, after 10 hours of trekking, they are worth every cent spent when they meet you with a hot cup of coca, all your tents set up and mattresses and sleeping bags ready to be crawled into!
The first day was spent acclimitising to the altitude and remembering to breathe whilst walking vertically up a mountain!
The day was beautiful and clear and we had magniicent views of Salkantay mountain.
After about 4 hours of walking (a warm up only!), and after the same number of hours chattin and getting to know eachother, we arrived at our first campsite in Sorapampa at 3850 mts. High enough to really feel the cold wind that comes rushing down the valley from the snow-capped Salkantay mountain.
Getting to know the group, I immediately clicked with a couple from Manchester- Fiona and Phil- both around my age and travelling for a year. We continued to have a good number of laughs throughout the 5 days. In fact, the entire group really got along well, which was evident as we all met up after the trek for dinners, lunches and coffees in Cuzco for a few days after the trek!
Lunch and dinner were 3-course affairs at every meal time (and boy you are so hungry you eat them every time!), which included a soup, hot dinner of THREE different types of carbs (rice, sweet potatoes, pasta etc), meat dish, vegetables and then different types of teas, coffee, milo and ofcourse coca leaves! They really push the hot drinks on you as apparently drinking cold water in the high altitude is really not good for your stomach (digestive system slows doiwn in the cold and altitude and the cold water can cause further problems). By the first evening, the Dutch lady got hit by the altitude and she was the first one down with stomach problems and headaches. But the rest of us finished off the food in no time. I was constantly amazed at the qaulity and quantity of food that the chef produced on 2 tiny gas rings and a couple of pots... One porter was assigned to carry about 50-0dd eggs that were strapped to his back and every time he came jogging past us in the morning (after the porters had taken down our tents and tidied up after our breakfast) we´d all shout out to Be Careful with the Huevos!!
That night in my little tent, I listened to the rumble of avalanches as I lay curled up in ALL of my fleeces, my wolly hat, gloves, sleeping bag and thick horse blanket! Trust me, when you´re that wrapped up and that cold, the toilet can wait!!
Talking about toilets, for the 4 days we were in the mountains, the bathroom consisted of behind a bush (if there was one!) whilst we were trekking and then at night the porters would dig a small hole and put a tent around it! At 8pm on your way to bed, in the pitch blackness, one could never be certain if you were aiming at the hole or splashing your boots and bottom of your trousers (man, I really wanted to burn all my clothes after those 5-days they were that dirty!!).
Saturday 22nd September (Chicken is 27 and one day):
After a very restless sleep, we were all awoken ar 4.30am by general camp noises by the porters and by the many roosters that seemed to be everywhere we went! At 5.30am, we got a knock on our respective tents by the porters with a steaming cup of coffee or tea. Next we had a civilised breakfast of porridge, pancakes and omelettes, got given our packed snacks by our porters and we left camp for the 2nd and biggest day of the trek- the climb to the top of Salkantay pass! The Duth girl had been sick all night however she put on a brave face and followed us slowly up to the top. Luckily our group had 2 guides, so one went ahead with the rest of us and the other carried the oxygen pack and stayed close to the Dutch couple.
After 4 hours of vertical hiking, the group made it to the top. About 30 mins later the Dutch arrived. We waited till we were all together and then snapped some group pics, built a Waypaca (mound of stones) for the Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) and got off that mountain as quick as possible! It was absolutely freezing on the top and unfortunately the weather had changed over night so we climbed mostly in the clouds and even got a bit of snow at the top!
After another 2 hours of descent, we finally sat down to lunch, followed by 3 more hours of decent to our next campsite in the beauiful valley of Rayan Niyoc, a pleasnt 2900 mts.
Sunday 23rd September (27 plus 2):
Another 4.30am start thanks to some chickens and a really restless horse. Tea served in our tents, breakfast and then we set off to trek through the jungle/rain forest. OInce again, we only had sun for half a day and then the clouds set in and we donned our enormous ponchos and walked in the rain, through rivers (thank goodness for waterproof boots!) and into a little jungle village which we camped outside of. Unfortunately, I was unable to hide the fact that my otherwise comfy boots had , during all this descending, started to talk back to me, and they were not playing nice! My right baby toe had swollen and was one enormous blister whilst the right side of my foot was blistered and bruised as well. My great team took a group decision that the best thing they could do for me, was hold me down, sanitise a safety pin (ie use a flame) and burst the enormour blisters. Not exactly fun and meant that I hobbled around for the rest of the evening in my flip flops, my toes turning a shade of freezing blue! Dutch girl still sick, Aussie guy unable to eat and British girl twisted her knee. Oh, and for those of you who know my unfortunate injury terack record this year, my left torn calf muscle had basically given up the goat and I was limping on my right foot whilst leaning opn my trusty Inca stick (oh, I have yet to mention my closest companion on this tek- my wooden carved Inca walking stick. I had resisted in investing in these ancy walking poles that the others had brought, but before we even ot halfway into day one, I had brought myself a walkng stick- man they are the bomb!!).
That evening we had a huge storm and we huddled in our tents, desperately hoping our rain soaked clothes might dry before the mornign (ofcourse not silly!). So next day all one could do was put on the same muddy and wet clothes for an 8 hour trek to the Hydro Plant, where we would join up with civilisation again.
Monday 24th September (27 plus 3):
Yep, 4.22am wake up call. Thanks roosters. Unfortunately Yoga girl with the twisted knee was man down and SAS organised a vehicle to take her direct to the Hydro plant. The rest of us had a 5 hour climb up to 3000m, over Llactaplata and then down to the Hydro plant at 1870 mts.
Squeeing my right foot into my boot and attempting not to scream in agony, I wasn´t exactly looking forward to the day...however, it turned out to be the one of the higlights of the tour. The climb up the valley and over Llactaplata afforded us some absolutely breathtaking views of the valley and then once we got over the top, we got our first view of Macchu Picchu in the distance, surrounded by towering cliff faces and rolling green hills that seem to pierce the sky.
It was breath taking and made the pain of a 3 hour descent bearable.
That night we spent at the bottom of the Macchu Picchu mountain in a tiny charismatic town called Aguas Calientes. After 4 cold, muddy, hot, sweaty, rainy days of trekkng, we each got to have a hot shower and sleep in a real bed! Although, this did not mean we could sleep in, nope, we got a 4.30am wake up call to ensure we were on the 5,30am bus up the mountain to see Macchu Picchu at sunrise!
Tuesday 25th September: Mom Chicken turns an undisclosed age and Macchu Picchu is discovered by the Caribbean Chicken!
A day that will be etched into my memory forever. After waiting for so long to explore the Inca city, I thought I might be a little disappointed.
Not in the slightest! We spent from 6am until 3pm exploring the city, climbing Waynu Picchu (the sharp cliff/mountain behind the city), trekking to the Inca Bridge (the gateweay carved out of the sheer cliff face that was the entrance to the city- no wonder the Spanish could never find it!) and wandering around the preserved temples and living quarters of the Incas.
We then all decided to skip the bus home and walked the 2 hour walk back to Aguas Calentes (just because we hadnt walked enough!), joined up with our SAS guides and about 100 other tourists and took the night train back to Cuzco, arriving back, tired, muddy but supremely happy!
After a quick shower, the group met up in the lively Irish bat- Paddys to basically relive the 5 days, shun the rest of the bar who had not lived through this experience, reminisce about blisters, broken knees, upset stomachs and overcoming the odds! Wow, we were so totally a Hunters Gold advert right then and there!!
Caribbean Chicken´s Backpacker Tip: Just Do It.
(ps- sorry for typos, rushing!)
Sasquayway-what??!
Thursday 20th September: Cuzco, climbing up to the ruins of Sasquayman
Having given myself 24hours to adapt to the 3400m altitude shock, I decided that today I was ready for a bit more of a challenge! And so I tackled the hill directly outside of Cuzco- a 3 hour round trip up this hill/mountain. Felt quite proud of both my boots and my walking prowess! The afternoon was spent at Spanish school again, going through all they dry stuff like grammar and verbs and tenses, quite excited about how quick it is coming back! (Gracias a Patty, la mejor professora de español!).
6pm was the trek briefing and introduction to our guides and the rest of the group. I was quite nervous after walking in to the room and finding out that the rest of the team were made up of couples- Irish, Dutch, English and Australian... and one little Saffer girl! On first impressions, they seemed like a nice enough group but I was a little hesitant... Our guides- Mauro and Cesar then took us through a really thorough briefing of what to do and what not to do when we´re 4900 m above sea level (ie, drink litres of coca tea, keep warm, chew on coca leaves, walk slowly, take coca sweets!!). Coca is basically leaves from the coca plant (yes the same plant that you make cocaine from), but ofcourse at the quatity we´re chewing/drinking it, it shouldnt have the same effect hee hee! Basically, the Peruvian people have been drinking and chewing on this stuff for centuries, meant to be really good herbal medicinal stuff... It kind of reminds me of drinking Mate in Argentina...
Then it was home to pack my duffel bag with my cardboard thin mattress, arctic-style sleeping bag and some warm fleeces (only allowed 9 kilos per person!). Packing light is not my middle name... hope my donkey and porter are ready for the chicken´s arrival in the Andes!
Caribbean Chicken´s Backpacking tip:
When sitting down to eat a solo dinner in a little cafe and some friendly local guy asks to join you, and then subsequently invites you to the party of the month (which he is producing), dont forget your travel savvyness! He might just turn out to be the biggest drug dealer in Cuzco (hey, he seemed like a nice enough guy... but now it makes sense why the street kids were staring reverently at him through the window of the cafe...).
Having given myself 24hours to adapt to the 3400m altitude shock, I decided that today I was ready for a bit more of a challenge! And so I tackled the hill directly outside of Cuzco- a 3 hour round trip up this hill/mountain. Felt quite proud of both my boots and my walking prowess! The afternoon was spent at Spanish school again, going through all they dry stuff like grammar and verbs and tenses, quite excited about how quick it is coming back! (Gracias a Patty, la mejor professora de español!).
6pm was the trek briefing and introduction to our guides and the rest of the group. I was quite nervous after walking in to the room and finding out that the rest of the team were made up of couples- Irish, Dutch, English and Australian... and one little Saffer girl! On first impressions, they seemed like a nice enough group but I was a little hesitant... Our guides- Mauro and Cesar then took us through a really thorough briefing of what to do and what not to do when we´re 4900 m above sea level (ie, drink litres of coca tea, keep warm, chew on coca leaves, walk slowly, take coca sweets!!). Coca is basically leaves from the coca plant (yes the same plant that you make cocaine from), but ofcourse at the quatity we´re chewing/drinking it, it shouldnt have the same effect hee hee! Basically, the Peruvian people have been drinking and chewing on this stuff for centuries, meant to be really good herbal medicinal stuff... It kind of reminds me of drinking Mate in Argentina...
Then it was home to pack my duffel bag with my cardboard thin mattress, arctic-style sleeping bag and some warm fleeces (only allowed 9 kilos per person!). Packing light is not my middle name... hope my donkey and porter are ready for the chicken´s arrival in the Andes!
Caribbean Chicken´s Backpacking tip:
When sitting down to eat a solo dinner in a little cafe and some friendly local guy asks to join you, and then subsequently invites you to the party of the month (which he is producing), dont forget your travel savvyness! He might just turn out to be the biggest drug dealer in Cuzco (hey, he seemed like a nice enough guy... but now it makes sense why the street kids were staring reverently at him through the window of the cafe...).
Thursday, 20 September 2007
Caminando a Cuzco...
Wednesday 19th September: Cuzco
Cuzco is a fantatstic place to get lost in. Especially if you´re looking for a work out for both your lungs and your legs! It is full of narrow and steeply winding cobblestone roads with tiny tourist shops overflowing with apalca scarves, gloves, socks etc, as well as an enormous variety of cafes, restaurants, bars, internet cafes (1 sole per hour, 30 US cents!), and ofcourse, hundreds of tour agencies, hotels and hostals... How these places manage to make enough money to survive the rainy season is a mystery, as they all entice you with free drinks, free salad bar, free appetizers, free massage... anything to get you inside their store or restaurant!
Today is Day of the Tourist in Cusco. So we were treated to a great display of local dance and music in the Plaza de Armas. The Peruvian people are very friendly and are all keen to engage you in conversation in both english or spanish... ofcourse they want you to buy a postale or pintura or anything (was offered a pair of used scissors??!!) at the end of the conversation!
On my wanderings, I discovered a great little Spanish school/volunteer programme in one of the alleyways- http://www.proyectoperucentre.org/- and signed up for 4 hours of spanish classes with them. So, I spent a good 2 hours just speaking Spanish this afternoon, was fantastic! But also a bit of a mind-numbing experience as I battled to conjugate verbs and remember grammar... and the topic of discussion for 2 hours... politics in South Africa and Peru and poverty in Africa versus South America and solutions if any!! Hells Bells! 2 hours of that would tire me out in English let alone Spanish!!!
After I left the tiny little school (highly recommend to anyone wanting to spend some time volunteering in Peru, you work with school children and learn spanish and stay with a local family for a period of time), I went looking for Tracy and Mel (friends from Cayman) who have arrived back from their trek today. They´re staying in Hotel Marquesas. I totally had hotel envy when I walked in and saw their posh abode.. ofcourse they are paying 50US$ per night each whilst I am payng 14 US$, so there is a slight difference there... and come on, my hostal has vibe, oodles and oodles of vibe (sleep, who sleeps in cuzco?).
Anyhow, hooked up with the girls for drinks and dinner and had a fab night with them drinking Pisco sourz (my new favourite drink, made with egg white, pisco, lemon, bitters and blended ice) and we tried out 2 local dishes- ceviche de trucha and some stuffed peppers with mince and beans, both yummy! There was a bit of a scuffle about who was going to draw the short straw and order the Guinea Pig, luckily I am totally on a winning streak!!
Caribbean Chicken´s Backpacking tip of the Day:
Always get your mate to try the Guinea Pig first. (see exhibit A)
Cuzco is a fantatstic place to get lost in. Especially if you´re looking for a work out for both your lungs and your legs! It is full of narrow and steeply winding cobblestone roads with tiny tourist shops overflowing with apalca scarves, gloves, socks etc, as well as an enormous variety of cafes, restaurants, bars, internet cafes (1 sole per hour, 30 US cents!), and ofcourse, hundreds of tour agencies, hotels and hostals... How these places manage to make enough money to survive the rainy season is a mystery, as they all entice you with free drinks, free salad bar, free appetizers, free massage... anything to get you inside their store or restaurant!
Today is Day of the Tourist in Cusco. So we were treated to a great display of local dance and music in the Plaza de Armas. The Peruvian people are very friendly and are all keen to engage you in conversation in both english or spanish... ofcourse they want you to buy a postale or pintura or anything (was offered a pair of used scissors??!!) at the end of the conversation!
On my wanderings, I discovered a great little Spanish school/volunteer programme in one of the alleyways- http://www.proyectoperucentre.org/- and signed up for 4 hours of spanish classes with them. So, I spent a good 2 hours just speaking Spanish this afternoon, was fantastic! But also a bit of a mind-numbing experience as I battled to conjugate verbs and remember grammar... and the topic of discussion for 2 hours... politics in South Africa and Peru and poverty in Africa versus South America and solutions if any!! Hells Bells! 2 hours of that would tire me out in English let alone Spanish!!!
After I left the tiny little school (highly recommend to anyone wanting to spend some time volunteering in Peru, you work with school children and learn spanish and stay with a local family for a period of time), I went looking for Tracy and Mel (friends from Cayman) who have arrived back from their trek today. They´re staying in Hotel Marquesas. I totally had hotel envy when I walked in and saw their posh abode.. ofcourse they are paying 50US$ per night each whilst I am payng 14 US$, so there is a slight difference there... and come on, my hostal has vibe, oodles and oodles of vibe (sleep, who sleeps in cuzco?).
Anyhow, hooked up with the girls for drinks and dinner and had a fab night with them drinking Pisco sourz (my new favourite drink, made with egg white, pisco, lemon, bitters and blended ice) and we tried out 2 local dishes- ceviche de trucha and some stuffed peppers with mince and beans, both yummy! There was a bit of a scuffle about who was going to draw the short straw and order the Guinea Pig, luckily I am totally on a winning streak!!
Caribbean Chicken´s Backpacking tip of the Day:
Always get your mate to try the Guinea Pig first. (see exhibit A)
Wednesday, 19 September 2007
3400m high in heady Cuzco...
Tuesday 18th September: Lima to Cuzco (Qos´Qo)
Spent the morning catching up at our Hostel, reading the ´Bible´and messing around on the Internet before our taxi came to pick us up and take us on another exciting trip through Lima to the airport. I seem to have adopted the 2 Surrey girls (I am the oldest and have a little more travel experience so totally feel like I am playing Mother Hen... I am not even 27 yet dammit!). So the girls have decided to venture on to Cuzco with me and we´re all booked into the Hostel´s sister hostel, The Point in Cuzco.
The flight was an easy one hour flight on LAN Peru (a bit more pricey than other airlines but new planes and we arrived without incident and on time), and then I caught a taxi through Cusco to my new abode. The Point in Cuzco is not as homely and quiet as the Lima version- this one is bustling with ´gap´year backpackers intent on making as much noise as possible at all times of the day...hmmmmm. Luckily I agreed to pay the extra 10 soles ($3) a day and have my own private room which means that I was not woken up by the puking drunken dormmates as the Surrey girls were.... I might be backpacking, but I do still have certain, ummm, standards!!
Went for a bit of a walk around Cuzco in the evening. Surprisingly, it is a little warmer here than Lima however you do really feel the altitude and every now and then I have to stop as my heart feels like its going to jump out of my chest!
The town is really pretty and absolutely bustling with people- 300 000 inhabitants and then bus and plane-loads of tourists!
I finalised my trek with SAS and am getting really excited for it!! Its going to be an insane 5 days (no showers, running water or toilets for 5 days) but apparently it is just so beautiful.
Spent the evening at the hostel and had another fab homemade dinner- Thai chicken with Mango chutney, sticky rice and veggies, all for a whopping 4 US$!! Bed early. Tired and cold. Wrapped myself up in my thermal underwear and my sheet "sleeping bag" and popped in the era plugs at that was that. Aim for tomorrow: download some photos for Facebook and blog...
Caribbean Chickens Backpacking Tip of the Day:
Dont just invest in one pair of decent ear plugs. Stock em up!
Spent the morning catching up at our Hostel, reading the ´Bible´and messing around on the Internet before our taxi came to pick us up and take us on another exciting trip through Lima to the airport. I seem to have adopted the 2 Surrey girls (I am the oldest and have a little more travel experience so totally feel like I am playing Mother Hen... I am not even 27 yet dammit!). So the girls have decided to venture on to Cuzco with me and we´re all booked into the Hostel´s sister hostel, The Point in Cuzco.
The flight was an easy one hour flight on LAN Peru (a bit more pricey than other airlines but new planes and we arrived without incident and on time), and then I caught a taxi through Cusco to my new abode. The Point in Cuzco is not as homely and quiet as the Lima version- this one is bustling with ´gap´year backpackers intent on making as much noise as possible at all times of the day...hmmmmm. Luckily I agreed to pay the extra 10 soles ($3) a day and have my own private room which means that I was not woken up by the puking drunken dormmates as the Surrey girls were.... I might be backpacking, but I do still have certain, ummm, standards!!
Went for a bit of a walk around Cuzco in the evening. Surprisingly, it is a little warmer here than Lima however you do really feel the altitude and every now and then I have to stop as my heart feels like its going to jump out of my chest!
The town is really pretty and absolutely bustling with people- 300 000 inhabitants and then bus and plane-loads of tourists!
I finalised my trek with SAS and am getting really excited for it!! Its going to be an insane 5 days (no showers, running water or toilets for 5 days) but apparently it is just so beautiful.
Spent the evening at the hostel and had another fab homemade dinner- Thai chicken with Mango chutney, sticky rice and veggies, all for a whopping 4 US$!! Bed early. Tired and cold. Wrapped myself up in my thermal underwear and my sheet "sleeping bag" and popped in the era plugs at that was that. Aim for tomorrow: download some photos for Facebook and blog...
Caribbean Chickens Backpacking Tip of the Day:
Dont just invest in one pair of decent ear plugs. Stock em up!
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Lapping up Lima
17th September 2007: Day One Lima, Peru
The longest day...
Yesterdy might very easily be classified as one of my longest days yet.. Having only a couple of hours of sleep on the Miami to Lima flight, I arrived groggy and tired at The Point Hostel in Barranco (next to Miraflores), a suburb of Lima.
Being that it was 5am in the morning, I thought that I wouldnt head stright to my dorm room and wake up my new dormmates at such an ungodly hour, so I sat with the backpacker{s bible )the Lonely Planet) and planned a full day of touring Lima instead!
Over beakfast (the ubiquitous roll, jam and coffee, South America is not well-known for doing the whole eggs, bacon and toast, or even muesli and fruit for that matter), I hooked up with 2 girls from suffolk and we decided to do Lima together (pack mentality). Thankfully my new dormmate ended up being saner than I could ever have hoped for (although he is an Aussie so that immediately put him at a disadvantage!), and he has been living at The Point for a week and offerred to play tour guide/ bodyguard for the day.
Good Plan.
I had managed to forget what a scene blonde hair makes in south america.... and even more so in Peru than it did in Argentina! I am wondering if I coud invest in some mousy brown hair dye for the rest of the month.... I feel very very conspicuuos!
So, the 4 of us left the sanctuary of the hostel and made our way down the road to catch a taxi. A tiny mini screeched to a halt on the corner and we negotiated a 9 soles (3 US) fare for the 25 min trip downtown. Have I mentioned how cheap things are here??
The trip was interesting, a total "Africa taxi meets South American drivers" kind of experience. The 2 english girls were white knuckled the whole way... our taxi driver managed to cause one fender bender, but some serious training on the roads of Nigeria and Cameroon made this trip slightly easier to deal with.
The morning was spent at the¨Black market, fighting offfake Addidas and plastic Ipods, and then ontp Lima central- PLaza de Armas. A highlight was a tour through the San Fracisco Monastery. The cathedral sits on top of miles of catacombs.... 25000 people have been entombed below this cathedral! The tour was very interesting and we spent quite a bit of time underground staring at an assortment of bones. I did wonder what would happen to us if Lima was hit by an earthquake at that moment... apparently the church has survived most of the major quakes (only seriouosly damaged twice) because of these large wells underground that are several metres deep and filled with bones (in early years were filled with water) to absorb the seismic activity...
After a quick walk through Chinatown, we popped back to Barranco and I settled into a hammock to spend part of the afternoon catching up on my journal and lonely planet. I did just manage to succeed in freezing my toes before retreating back inside the hostel for a hot shower and then on to hit the nightlife of Barrance/Miraflores. Ofcourse, I had forgotten that nightlife only starts after 1 am, so us girls just took in some more sights before deciding to head back to The Point{s bar.
And so began a rather long night of Cuba Libres! Apparently at some point someone spílt the beans about a certain someone{s birthday coming up this week and so I succeeded in getting one too many free drinks (seriously, I have never turned down free drinks, so you must know I was tired last night!).
Final Impressions on Lima:
Not a beautiful city, missing the awe-inspiring buildings of Old Havana, nor does it have any of the Cosmo chicness of Buenos Aires. For most of the year it is shrouded in fog, with little sunshine.
The Point is a great find though.
Most Impressive Feature of Lima:
The city is built on these towering sandy cliffs that overlook the ocean. The cliffs are literally crumbling away as you walk along them, and the buildings look like they will disappear into the abyss below at any second!
The Caribbean Chickens Backpacking Tip of the Day:
Never admit to a Birthday!
The longest day...
Yesterdy might very easily be classified as one of my longest days yet.. Having only a couple of hours of sleep on the Miami to Lima flight, I arrived groggy and tired at The Point Hostel in Barranco (next to Miraflores), a suburb of Lima.
Being that it was 5am in the morning, I thought that I wouldnt head stright to my dorm room and wake up my new dormmates at such an ungodly hour, so I sat with the backpacker{s bible )the Lonely Planet) and planned a full day of touring Lima instead!
Over beakfast (the ubiquitous roll, jam and coffee, South America is not well-known for doing the whole eggs, bacon and toast, or even muesli and fruit for that matter), I hooked up with 2 girls from suffolk and we decided to do Lima together (pack mentality). Thankfully my new dormmate ended up being saner than I could ever have hoped for (although he is an Aussie so that immediately put him at a disadvantage!), and he has been living at The Point for a week and offerred to play tour guide/ bodyguard for the day.
Good Plan.
I had managed to forget what a scene blonde hair makes in south america.... and even more so in Peru than it did in Argentina! I am wondering if I coud invest in some mousy brown hair dye for the rest of the month.... I feel very very conspicuuos!
So, the 4 of us left the sanctuary of the hostel and made our way down the road to catch a taxi. A tiny mini screeched to a halt on the corner and we negotiated a 9 soles (3 US) fare for the 25 min trip downtown. Have I mentioned how cheap things are here??
The trip was interesting, a total "Africa taxi meets South American drivers" kind of experience. The 2 english girls were white knuckled the whole way... our taxi driver managed to cause one fender bender, but some serious training on the roads of Nigeria and Cameroon made this trip slightly easier to deal with.
The morning was spent at the¨Black market, fighting offfake Addidas and plastic Ipods, and then ontp Lima central- PLaza de Armas. A highlight was a tour through the San Fracisco Monastery. The cathedral sits on top of miles of catacombs.... 25000 people have been entombed below this cathedral! The tour was very interesting and we spent quite a bit of time underground staring at an assortment of bones. I did wonder what would happen to us if Lima was hit by an earthquake at that moment... apparently the church has survived most of the major quakes (only seriouosly damaged twice) because of these large wells underground that are several metres deep and filled with bones (in early years were filled with water) to absorb the seismic activity...
After a quick walk through Chinatown, we popped back to Barranco and I settled into a hammock to spend part of the afternoon catching up on my journal and lonely planet. I did just manage to succeed in freezing my toes before retreating back inside the hostel for a hot shower and then on to hit the nightlife of Barrance/Miraflores. Ofcourse, I had forgotten that nightlife only starts after 1 am, so us girls just took in some more sights before deciding to head back to The Point{s bar.
And so began a rather long night of Cuba Libres! Apparently at some point someone spílt the beans about a certain someone{s birthday coming up this week and so I succeeded in getting one too many free drinks (seriously, I have never turned down free drinks, so you must know I was tired last night!).
Final Impressions on Lima:
Not a beautiful city, missing the awe-inspiring buildings of Old Havana, nor does it have any of the Cosmo chicness of Buenos Aires. For most of the year it is shrouded in fog, with little sunshine.
The Point is a great find though.
Most Impressive Feature of Lima:
The city is built on these towering sandy cliffs that overlook the ocean. The cliffs are literally crumbling away as you walk along them, and the buildings look like they will disappear into the abyss below at any second!
The Caribbean Chickens Backpacking Tip of the Day:
Never admit to a Birthday!
Monday, 17 September 2007
The Chicken discovers Colder Climes...brrrr!
It is rather disgusting to think that I have been holiday now for 6 or 7 weeks (who can keep track really?), the days have merged into one long summer holiday, as I have taken full advnatage of the long, hot days in the Caribbean, and the rather long, crazy nights that have gone with them!
I left my job at the end of July and headed over to Las Vegas to meet up with those 2 crazy kids- Se and Jas. I then spent the next 2 weeks or so in the back of their Monty the Ponty travelling from the hotspots of Vegas to the middle of the bear-infested wilds of Yosemite and then all the way up and down the California Coastline (and falling in love with San Francisco along the way!!).
Back to the Caymans, I had a short but intense struggle with Immigration, finally admitting defeat and decided to book another trip off the island to give them some more time to miss me (and perhaps issue a work permit in my absence...c´mon guys, I have loads of financial investing experience...riiight).
Hence, here I find myself in a rather chilly and damp Monday morning in Lima, Peru. My backpack is stuffed fill of thermal underwear, hiking boots and alpine hat and gloves, I am off to tackle this extraordinary country for a couple of weeks.
I have found myself a rather quirky (??!!) backpackers jaunt in Miraflores and am desperately and urgently awaiting the kitchen to open so I can get some caffeine into my body (my flight landed at 4.30am!), and then it is off to explore the city. So far, the sights and sounds have been enough to inspire a little trepidation (ie, 2 x bearded, long-haired nomads have just wandered out their room and seem to be trying to find their way to the bathroom or bar.... not sure which!).
Right, so this is also the re-launch of the caribbean chicken (after a 7 month hiatus), she is BACK!
Day One: Lima (to be cont.)
(ps, nomads are back with beers...)
I left my job at the end of July and headed over to Las Vegas to meet up with those 2 crazy kids- Se and Jas. I then spent the next 2 weeks or so in the back of their Monty the Ponty travelling from the hotspots of Vegas to the middle of the bear-infested wilds of Yosemite and then all the way up and down the California Coastline (and falling in love with San Francisco along the way!!).
Back to the Caymans, I had a short but intense struggle with Immigration, finally admitting defeat and decided to book another trip off the island to give them some more time to miss me (and perhaps issue a work permit in my absence...c´mon guys, I have loads of financial investing experience...riiight).
Hence, here I find myself in a rather chilly and damp Monday morning in Lima, Peru. My backpack is stuffed fill of thermal underwear, hiking boots and alpine hat and gloves, I am off to tackle this extraordinary country for a couple of weeks.
I have found myself a rather quirky (??!!) backpackers jaunt in Miraflores and am desperately and urgently awaiting the kitchen to open so I can get some caffeine into my body (my flight landed at 4.30am!), and then it is off to explore the city. So far, the sights and sounds have been enough to inspire a little trepidation (ie, 2 x bearded, long-haired nomads have just wandered out their room and seem to be trying to find their way to the bathroom or bar.... not sure which!).
Right, so this is also the re-launch of the caribbean chicken (after a 7 month hiatus), she is BACK!
Day One: Lima (to be cont.)
(ps, nomads are back with beers...)
Friday, 23 February 2007
Thursday, 8 February 2007
SuperBowl Madness
On Monday morning I woke up and went for my usual 10km run (it turned into a 10k hobble, the holiday south has taken its toll…) , and about 100m down the road I met a stray tourist. Not unusual, when one thinks that tourists outnumber locals 2 to 1 on the island. Anyhow, this particular tourist was dressed in nothing more than a pair of cargo shorts (strategically hanging somewhere mid-thigh), no t-shirt, no shoes, and no clue that he was staggering down the road singing war cries to the lamp posts.
I immediately recognized him as a stray tourist. We get a number of these every weekend (although they don’t usually venture so far south. Makes me think that he must have left a bar in Georgetown in the early hours of the morning and turned left instead of right…and 4 hours on he’s still looking for his hotel), they’re easy to recognize and even easier to diagnose. They’re usually burnt (too much sun) and reeking of rum (the rumbos get them every time- the alcohol percentage in the rum here is 3 times the legal limit anywhere else in the world and then the caffeine and sugar in the coke keeps one wired for hours…The glasses of rumbo should contain a warning label: “ Caution: the contents of this drink may cause temporary insanity”). And so, as I ran past, I turned him in the general direction of GeorgeTown and sent him on his way. The last I saw of him as I turned the corner, he had made friends with the resident 3-legged dog and the 2 were trotting down the road together…
So why all the madness you may ask? Well, Sunday 4th February was Superbowl Sunday.
Yes, that means absolutely NOTHING to all us Saffers. But it means a whole lot to everyone this side of the globe and I can quite proudly say that I now know who the Chicago Bulls and Indiana Colts are. I even know what colour each team wears and that a game spans 4 hours of which 3 hours 55 minutes are pure advertising. Superbowl madness hit the Grand Cayman Islands with a vengeance this past weekend. Everywhere I looked there was another excited American tourist jumping up and down, arms flailing about, white hairy legs protruding from checked Bermuda shorts and sweat drops gathering under their plastic peaks. I don’t think even Hurricane Ivan caused so much disruption in one day!
The kick off was at 6.30pm Island time and the festivities started early with most bars and restaurants offering “Superbowl Specials”- bucket of Buds and Chicken wingers (I am concerned about the sheer number of chicken wings that are eaten on a daily basis on the island. Most specials offer them at 25c a barbecued wing, with the average Joe consuming at least 20 and with a thousand tourists visiting the island daily, that’s a lot of chicken. I fear my wings might be next…)
And so whilst Superbowl mania engulfed the tiny island, I spent the weekend holed up in the Westin Hotel, inside the Ballroom, setting up and rehearsing for my second “sizeable” job for Celebrations. Here are some photos for those of you who can not believe that I now spend my day flower arranging. Check these out…
I immediately recognized him as a stray tourist. We get a number of these every weekend (although they don’t usually venture so far south. Makes me think that he must have left a bar in Georgetown in the early hours of the morning and turned left instead of right…and 4 hours on he’s still looking for his hotel), they’re easy to recognize and even easier to diagnose. They’re usually burnt (too much sun) and reeking of rum (the rumbos get them every time- the alcohol percentage in the rum here is 3 times the legal limit anywhere else in the world and then the caffeine and sugar in the coke keeps one wired for hours…The glasses of rumbo should contain a warning label: “ Caution: the contents of this drink may cause temporary insanity”). And so, as I ran past, I turned him in the general direction of GeorgeTown and sent him on his way. The last I saw of him as I turned the corner, he had made friends with the resident 3-legged dog and the 2 were trotting down the road together…
So why all the madness you may ask? Well, Sunday 4th February was Superbowl Sunday.
Yes, that means absolutely NOTHING to all us Saffers. But it means a whole lot to everyone this side of the globe and I can quite proudly say that I now know who the Chicago Bulls and Indiana Colts are. I even know what colour each team wears and that a game spans 4 hours of which 3 hours 55 minutes are pure advertising. Superbowl madness hit the Grand Cayman Islands with a vengeance this past weekend. Everywhere I looked there was another excited American tourist jumping up and down, arms flailing about, white hairy legs protruding from checked Bermuda shorts and sweat drops gathering under their plastic peaks. I don’t think even Hurricane Ivan caused so much disruption in one day!
The kick off was at 6.30pm Island time and the festivities started early with most bars and restaurants offering “Superbowl Specials”- bucket of Buds and Chicken wingers (I am concerned about the sheer number of chicken wings that are eaten on a daily basis on the island. Most specials offer them at 25c a barbecued wing, with the average Joe consuming at least 20 and with a thousand tourists visiting the island daily, that’s a lot of chicken. I fear my wings might be next…)
And so whilst Superbowl mania engulfed the tiny island, I spent the weekend holed up in the Westin Hotel, inside the Ballroom, setting up and rehearsing for my second “sizeable” job for Celebrations. Here are some photos for those of you who can not believe that I now spend my day flower arranging. Check these out…
Saturday, 3 February 2007
Migration
After a short migration south, the Chicken has landed back on the Caribbean Isles.
Here are a few highlights of the 2-week whirlwind:
Cayman Islands to Durban via Bahamas via London via Johannesburg: 22 hours in an airplane, 15 hours of airport stopovers, one crazy bat kicking my chair for 4 hours, 80-mile winds in London causing Heathrow mayhem: 42-cancelled flights, 80-delayed flights, undisclosed technical difficulty grounding my BA plane in JHB, 2 sleeping pills. Home. (sigh).
Kloof: 3 shopping trips to Gateway (wow shopping centres, real shops with clothes that don't have shoulder pads and pleated skirts, I'm in heaven), 2 visits to Kloof Virgin Active (wow a first-world gym with real weight machines and equipment that hasn't rusted shut), many home-cooked dinners (still too few though...aaaaarggghh), whirwind visits to friends and family...
Cape Town: 1 flight on a bright orange plane named after a rather tasty fruit. 1 emergency landing and evacuation of plane. No, the excitement was not caused by a potential terrorist. Instead, this piece of mayhem was caused by a 5mm stone lodged in the Rooster's (Daddy Hoops) bladder. At 32000 feet with 20 mins flying time on the clock, the stone decided to make its move. What followed was probably my most exciting entrance to Cape Town ever. It included evacuation of passengers, paramedics and ambulances screeching along the runway, one man-down, and one ambulance trip to Vincent Palloti. And so the Rooster was confined to a hospital bed for 3 days. After the initial sympathy and shock- kidney stone pain is akin to child birth so they say...- we left the Rooster hooked up to his morphine drip (he was floating about 2m above his bed with a permanent grin on his face), and headed into a stinking hot Cape Town.
3 days of heat wave and temps into the high-40's.
1 amazing house in Bakoven.
5 trips to Cavendish (on a permanent shopping high).
2 hours lost in Mitchells Plain.
2 days on wine estate in stellenbosch.
1 beautiful and perfect wedding.
1 hangover.
1 British Airways strike. 1 day less of my vacation as a mad scramble ensued to change my flights: Cape Town to Cayman Islands via London via Miami on BA, Virgin Atlantic and American Airlines. 25 hours flying time, 8 hours stopover time in airports, 1 very disgruntled US Customs Officer, 5 movies (no sleeping pills) and I arrived in Georgetown. Aaaahhh, back to island-time. Back to perfect seas, white sand beaches, and sundowner cocktails. Back to my apartment.... oh, yes, back to my psychotic flatmate (who, it seems, shaved his head whilst i was gone and now looks like an overweight Auschwitz survivor) hmmm...
1x Homesickness.
Here are a few highlights of the 2-week whirlwind:
Cayman Islands to Durban via Bahamas via London via Johannesburg: 22 hours in an airplane, 15 hours of airport stopovers, one crazy bat kicking my chair for 4 hours, 80-mile winds in London causing Heathrow mayhem: 42-cancelled flights, 80-delayed flights, undisclosed technical difficulty grounding my BA plane in JHB, 2 sleeping pills. Home. (sigh).
Kloof: 3 shopping trips to Gateway (wow shopping centres, real shops with clothes that don't have shoulder pads and pleated skirts, I'm in heaven), 2 visits to Kloof Virgin Active (wow a first-world gym with real weight machines and equipment that hasn't rusted shut), many home-cooked dinners (still too few though...aaaaarggghh), whirwind visits to friends and family...
Cape Town: 1 flight on a bright orange plane named after a rather tasty fruit. 1 emergency landing and evacuation of plane. No, the excitement was not caused by a potential terrorist. Instead, this piece of mayhem was caused by a 5mm stone lodged in the Rooster's (Daddy Hoops) bladder. At 32000 feet with 20 mins flying time on the clock, the stone decided to make its move. What followed was probably my most exciting entrance to Cape Town ever. It included evacuation of passengers, paramedics and ambulances screeching along the runway, one man-down, and one ambulance trip to Vincent Palloti. And so the Rooster was confined to a hospital bed for 3 days. After the initial sympathy and shock- kidney stone pain is akin to child birth so they say...- we left the Rooster hooked up to his morphine drip (he was floating about 2m above his bed with a permanent grin on his face), and headed into a stinking hot Cape Town.
3 days of heat wave and temps into the high-40's.
1 amazing house in Bakoven.
5 trips to Cavendish (on a permanent shopping high).
2 hours lost in Mitchells Plain.
2 days on wine estate in stellenbosch.
1 beautiful and perfect wedding.
1 hangover.
1 British Airways strike. 1 day less of my vacation as a mad scramble ensued to change my flights: Cape Town to Cayman Islands via London via Miami on BA, Virgin Atlantic and American Airlines. 25 hours flying time, 8 hours stopover time in airports, 1 very disgruntled US Customs Officer, 5 movies (no sleeping pills) and I arrived in Georgetown. Aaaahhh, back to island-time. Back to perfect seas, white sand beaches, and sundowner cocktails. Back to my apartment.... oh, yes, back to my psychotic flatmate (who, it seems, shaved his head whilst i was gone and now looks like an overweight Auschwitz survivor) hmmm...
1x Homesickness.
Wednesday, 17 January 2007
Leaving on a Jet Plane...
caribbeanchicken is flying the coup.
in other words- she is taking sime time off-island. she'll be back in the near future. until then, keep those tail feathers flying high!
cc.
in other words- she is taking sime time off-island. she'll be back in the near future. until then, keep those tail feathers flying high!
cc.
Thursday, 11 January 2007
the canadian curse
I am surrounded by Red and White.
Some days I feel like the Maple Leaf. No hang on, I feel like an ant on the Maple Leaf.
My new office happens to be situated on an idyllic island, which also happens to be inhabited by Canadians. In fact Canadians far out-populate any other ex-pat community on the island. Not that strange when you think where they're coming from. Poor buggers are desperate to thaw out after generations of living on the edge of a freezing ice cap.
Now, I don't necessarily have anything against the Canadians, but when you are boxed in by 5 of them in a small confined space, with no windows, I have started to view them as the 'others'. It is not one particular thing that makes my skin crawl with irritation, it's more the ever-present sweetness that starts to really...really get on my nerves.
I mean, come on now, we can't all be that nice ALL of the time. Well, clearly, I can't.
Our desks are divided into cubicles, tiny bits of space where you're expected to flourish for 8 hours of your day, for 5 (and sometimes 6) days of the week. All that good sunshine just going to waste :-( makes me sick man.
Sooooo, at the desk opposite me live Curls and Fast Food. You have never heard such enormous amounts of oozing sweetness as they discuss wedding plans with their bridal clients... but then, when the telephones have been put away and before our manager has managed to close the office door - its bam!- and the bitchiness begins. I reckon there's a place for them in the next X-Men, I have never seen so much maple syrup go sour so quickly- these byatches are talented.
In the 3 cubicles behind me, live Frenchie (French-Cabadian) , SOWM (stressed-out-working-mother, also Canadian) and Gaylord(trendy, gay, canadian wedding planner- no cliche there ofcourse).
And, finally, on my left, and the only other remaining exit out the office, sits the Administrator. We're all shit-scared of our office administrator and try and give her the least amount of administration work as possible. Oddly enough, she is the only person in my corner of the office who does not originate from the land of snow and ... and... bears... and I dunno.. park rangers??
Sticks and stones originates from Jamaica. She is quite possibly the skinniest Jamaican (see upcoming post on jamaicans), that I have ever met. Not from lack of trying though. I have never seen a chick devour so much fried chicken in my life.
Sticks and Stones and Bosslady (the departmental manager) are both from the same hometown in jamaica and therefore speak a completely different language than anyone else on the island and quite often discurse through means of telepathy. This means that anything and everything we do, say or think is beamed straight back to management. Quite disconcerting.
But, its ok, Sticks and Stones and I have an understanding.
You see, I am the only non-Canadian in our office, and for this reason and this reason alone, I pass inspection.
Some days I feel like the Maple Leaf. No hang on, I feel like an ant on the Maple Leaf.
My new office happens to be situated on an idyllic island, which also happens to be inhabited by Canadians. In fact Canadians far out-populate any other ex-pat community on the island. Not that strange when you think where they're coming from. Poor buggers are desperate to thaw out after generations of living on the edge of a freezing ice cap.
Now, I don't necessarily have anything against the Canadians, but when you are boxed in by 5 of them in a small confined space, with no windows, I have started to view them as the 'others'. It is not one particular thing that makes my skin crawl with irritation, it's more the ever-present sweetness that starts to really...really get on my nerves.
I mean, come on now, we can't all be that nice ALL of the time. Well, clearly, I can't.
Our desks are divided into cubicles, tiny bits of space where you're expected to flourish for 8 hours of your day, for 5 (and sometimes 6) days of the week. All that good sunshine just going to waste :-( makes me sick man.
Sooooo, at the desk opposite me live Curls and Fast Food. You have never heard such enormous amounts of oozing sweetness as they discuss wedding plans with their bridal clients... but then, when the telephones have been put away and before our manager has managed to close the office door - its bam!- and the bitchiness begins. I reckon there's a place for them in the next X-Men, I have never seen so much maple syrup go sour so quickly- these byatches are talented.
In the 3 cubicles behind me, live Frenchie (French-Cabadian) , SOWM (stressed-out-working-mother, also Canadian) and Gaylord(trendy, gay, canadian wedding planner- no cliche there ofcourse).
And, finally, on my left, and the only other remaining exit out the office, sits the Administrator. We're all shit-scared of our office administrator and try and give her the least amount of administration work as possible. Oddly enough, she is the only person in my corner of the office who does not originate from the land of snow and ... and... bears... and I dunno.. park rangers??
Sticks and stones originates from Jamaica. She is quite possibly the skinniest Jamaican (see upcoming post on jamaicans), that I have ever met. Not from lack of trying though. I have never seen a chick devour so much fried chicken in my life.
Sticks and Stones and Bosslady (the departmental manager) are both from the same hometown in jamaica and therefore speak a completely different language than anyone else on the island and quite often discurse through means of telepathy. This means that anything and everything we do, say or think is beamed straight back to management. Quite disconcerting.
But, its ok, Sticks and Stones and I have an understanding.
You see, I am the only non-Canadian in our office, and for this reason and this reason alone, I pass inspection.
Wednesday, 3 January 2007
adventures of a caribbean chicken
10 days of playa part-ay in paradise...
Yes, I was super excited!
10 days, in the brilliant caribbean sunshine, on white sands, swimming in turquiose seas with stingrays, drinking rum-cokes at every sunset... what could go wrong?? Idyllic, no??
Ideal, my ass.
Here's the low-down...
Day One;
car keys- check
house keys- check
wallet- check
dollars- check
credit cards- check
camera- check
clothing (on and off body)- check
liver still intact- check
Wow, i was off to a good start!
The first coupla days were spent gearing up for xmas- shop shop shop, decorate tree, wrap presents, make food (attempt to create salad extrodinaire) for 10 poeple, and then we cracked open the first bottle of champers and I truly feel things went downhill from this point on!!
But first, I received my FIRST xmas present!! I had bought myself a baby RAV which got delivered the first day of my hols! It's a gorgeous (beat up), blue (rusty) 2-door Rav (definitely an Island car) which i LOVE!! No more scooter incidents!!!!!!!!!
And, yes, i do see the irony in buying a Toyota as my first car (sorry DAD!!!!).
Christmas Eve Day was a day trip to Rum Point (opposite point of island). The entire Bentzie family has now relocated to the island so there was 8 of us falling all over the place in their tiny house, so come xmas eve day, it was time for some boat trippin'.
We packed some coolers full of beers, borrowd a mate's boat (is a fancy fishing boat so big enough for the bentzie mob and dupree) and headed across the North Sound to rum point.
On the way, we stopped off at StingRay city to play with the sting rays.
Damn, these things can bite! Apparently since 'The Incident' with the killer stingray, not many tourists opt to go so now they mob the people for food. We all came back with love bites as they know that you have squid for them so they suck on to your legs and arms... actually they are quite charming little buggers.
Then it was off to the reef for some snorkelling and finally Rum Point for Pina Coladas. I have some stunning photos of Rum Point area (feels like you've just landed on a beach from Pirates of Caribbean and that Johnny Depp is about to swagger down the beach), but unfortunately my camera got checked OFF my list a couple of days later so those photos are gonners.
Xmas eve was the BIG Christmas dinner and get together. 10 people, 10 bottles of champers, 5 courses of food. A good night.
Xmas day- the usual frenzy of opening xmas presents, eating too many chocolates and gorging on more champagne. Yummy. The most strenuous thing we did on xmas day was take a wander down the beach and laugh at all the drunnken tourists, before we headed back to Tamarind Bay for Pimms and a game of 30-seconds (by far the xmas pressie with the most kudos!!).
Boxing day: the usual shite. Different location. More turkey, more champers, more xmas crackers, more hangover. This time, I headed over to my bosses house in Prospect for their annual Boxing day party. Apparently it is one of the most sought-out parties to be invited to. The Browns are sort of legends on the island. Not sure how I cracked the nod?? Never mind, there was an open bar and free champers. all good.
So as you can see, the photos are no longer... they are now sitting with some dodgy Jamaican in the back of his shack. well, i hope they keep him warm at night. what comes around, goes around. more about that later.
the rest of the week was spent on the beach during the day- wakeboarding, snorkelling- the usual. and the evenings were spent tasting the fine array of caribbean rums that this island contains. thankfully i only had one rough morning where i had a very 'sore' 7km run back to one of the clubs to retrieve my vehicle!! the rest of the time, i was well-behaved!!
but then, the checklist starts to dwindle..
i had decided on a quiet evening. that's how all the best evening start don't they??
well, somewhere, things started to go pear shaped. we had started at a bar called hammerheads (a rather 'rough' place in a great location in the harbour, with really 'rough' rum). As the evening progressed, so did we and things started to get a little out of hand!! At some point in the evening (early hours of Saturday morning) we were walking home from a club and I had somehow got seperated from the crowd and there were just 2 of us trying to get to a friend's condo for a nightcap (it was 4 am and we had drank our bodyweight in booze, but the party must go on!!) and for some reason we found ourselves ina deserted field and thought the easiest way to get where we were going , was quite obviously, to to climb over a fence in the pitch darkness. I mean, c'mon. there was clearly no thought structure happening at all!
So over i go, and at the top of the fence my hand gets stuck on the barb wire and rips as I fall over the other side. Yummy.
But, it is amazing what a good anesthetic alcohol is. I was invincible. Unfortunately, the blood said otherwise. So we rushed my hand up the stairs and 2 of the guys bandaged it up pretty tight. I turned whiter than the saffers in london and was fed some coca cola and put to bed.
Unfortunately during the fracas, nobody noticed that my hand bag was left hanging on the fence.
And that was that.
Checklist OVER.
New Years Resolution: Drink No More Rum!
The next day I woke to the realisation that my bag was gone, my car was stranded in the middle of a sidewalk in GeorgeTown and my hand was throbbing!!
First stop was the police station to report the bag, then locksmith to break into my new car and change the ignition and create a whole new set of keys, and only then could I get to the hospital.
4 hours and 4 stitches (and a bucketful of cash later) i finally got home- 24 hours after leaving for that quiet drink...hmmmmm!
So this week has been a whole lot of admin-sorting: police station, banks, driving licensing dept etc etc. Love it.
New Years was a little quieter as I am now on some HECTIC antibiotics so things have toned down somewhat... Only somewhat...
New Years Resolution: Drink Less Rum!
The NY party was awesome tho- beach party at a place called Calico Jacks. I am going to hijack some photos from a friend and send them through...
My one-armed type-pecking is beginning to ache. so this the end of the All New Adventures of a CaribbeanChicken 2007.
Until the next one!
(New Years Resolution: Drink Only Good Rum!)
Yes, I was super excited!
10 days, in the brilliant caribbean sunshine, on white sands, swimming in turquiose seas with stingrays, drinking rum-cokes at every sunset... what could go wrong?? Idyllic, no??
Ideal, my ass.
Here's the low-down...
Day One;
car keys- check
house keys- check
wallet- check
dollars- check
credit cards- check
camera- check
clothing (on and off body)- check
liver still intact- check
Wow, i was off to a good start!
The first coupla days were spent gearing up for xmas- shop shop shop, decorate tree, wrap presents, make food (attempt to create salad extrodinaire) for 10 poeple, and then we cracked open the first bottle of champers and I truly feel things went downhill from this point on!!
But first, I received my FIRST xmas present!! I had bought myself a baby RAV which got delivered the first day of my hols! It's a gorgeous (beat up), blue (rusty) 2-door Rav (definitely an Island car) which i LOVE!! No more scooter incidents!!!!!!!!!
And, yes, i do see the irony in buying a Toyota as my first car (sorry DAD!!!!).
Christmas Eve Day was a day trip to Rum Point (opposite point of island). The entire Bentzie family has now relocated to the island so there was 8 of us falling all over the place in their tiny house, so come xmas eve day, it was time for some boat trippin'.
We packed some coolers full of beers, borrowd a mate's boat (is a fancy fishing boat so big enough for the bentzie mob and dupree) and headed across the North Sound to rum point.
On the way, we stopped off at StingRay city to play with the sting rays.
Damn, these things can bite! Apparently since 'The Incident' with the killer stingray, not many tourists opt to go so now they mob the people for food. We all came back with love bites as they know that you have squid for them so they suck on to your legs and arms... actually they are quite charming little buggers.
Then it was off to the reef for some snorkelling and finally Rum Point for Pina Coladas. I have some stunning photos of Rum Point area (feels like you've just landed on a beach from Pirates of Caribbean and that Johnny Depp is about to swagger down the beach), but unfortunately my camera got checked OFF my list a couple of days later so those photos are gonners.
Xmas eve was the BIG Christmas dinner and get together. 10 people, 10 bottles of champers, 5 courses of food. A good night.
Xmas day- the usual frenzy of opening xmas presents, eating too many chocolates and gorging on more champagne. Yummy. The most strenuous thing we did on xmas day was take a wander down the beach and laugh at all the drunnken tourists, before we headed back to Tamarind Bay for Pimms and a game of 30-seconds (by far the xmas pressie with the most kudos!!).
Boxing day: the usual shite. Different location. More turkey, more champers, more xmas crackers, more hangover. This time, I headed over to my bosses house in Prospect for their annual Boxing day party. Apparently it is one of the most sought-out parties to be invited to. The Browns are sort of legends on the island. Not sure how I cracked the nod?? Never mind, there was an open bar and free champers. all good.
So as you can see, the photos are no longer... they are now sitting with some dodgy Jamaican in the back of his shack. well, i hope they keep him warm at night. what comes around, goes around. more about that later.
the rest of the week was spent on the beach during the day- wakeboarding, snorkelling- the usual. and the evenings were spent tasting the fine array of caribbean rums that this island contains. thankfully i only had one rough morning where i had a very 'sore' 7km run back to one of the clubs to retrieve my vehicle!! the rest of the time, i was well-behaved!!
but then, the checklist starts to dwindle..
i had decided on a quiet evening. that's how all the best evening start don't they??
well, somewhere, things started to go pear shaped. we had started at a bar called hammerheads (a rather 'rough' place in a great location in the harbour, with really 'rough' rum). As the evening progressed, so did we and things started to get a little out of hand!! At some point in the evening (early hours of Saturday morning) we were walking home from a club and I had somehow got seperated from the crowd and there were just 2 of us trying to get to a friend's condo for a nightcap (it was 4 am and we had drank our bodyweight in booze, but the party must go on!!) and for some reason we found ourselves ina deserted field and thought the easiest way to get where we were going , was quite obviously, to to climb over a fence in the pitch darkness. I mean, c'mon. there was clearly no thought structure happening at all!
So over i go, and at the top of the fence my hand gets stuck on the barb wire and rips as I fall over the other side. Yummy.
But, it is amazing what a good anesthetic alcohol is. I was invincible. Unfortunately, the blood said otherwise. So we rushed my hand up the stairs and 2 of the guys bandaged it up pretty tight. I turned whiter than the saffers in london and was fed some coca cola and put to bed.
Unfortunately during the fracas, nobody noticed that my hand bag was left hanging on the fence.
And that was that.
Checklist OVER.
New Years Resolution: Drink No More Rum!
The next day I woke to the realisation that my bag was gone, my car was stranded in the middle of a sidewalk in GeorgeTown and my hand was throbbing!!
First stop was the police station to report the bag, then locksmith to break into my new car and change the ignition and create a whole new set of keys, and only then could I get to the hospital.
4 hours and 4 stitches (and a bucketful of cash later) i finally got home- 24 hours after leaving for that quiet drink...hmmmmm!
So this week has been a whole lot of admin-sorting: police station, banks, driving licensing dept etc etc. Love it.
New Years was a little quieter as I am now on some HECTIC antibiotics so things have toned down somewhat... Only somewhat...
New Years Resolution: Drink Less Rum!
The NY party was awesome tho- beach party at a place called Calico Jacks. I am going to hijack some photos from a friend and send them through...
My one-armed type-pecking is beginning to ache. so this the end of the All New Adventures of a CaribbeanChicken 2007.
Until the next one!
(New Years Resolution: Drink Only Good Rum!)
Newsletter #2 16.12.06
Aloha’s!!
It’s been another long, hard 4 weeks in paradise and definitely time to update you all on what I’ve been up to!
Winter has settled into the Cayman Islands with ferocious force- the temperatures have dropped to 26 degrees, the wind has picked up and every now and then the heavens open and the island is drenched for 30 minutes. The raindrops here are enormous and the rain comes without warning and then leaves just as suddenly and because the island is so flat, everything is completely flooded in those few minutes until the sunshine starts to do its work!
Ofcourse, as much as it’s a great phenomenon to watch from your balcony whilst sipping a mojito and contemplating what to do next, it’s NOT such a great phenomenon to experience whilst sitting on your scooter and trying to dodge puddles which generally hide monster-sized potholes ready to swallow my vespa and I whole!!
Yep, driving the scooter has created numerous challenges for me over the past 6 weeks- white pants and rain aside- the biggest challenge has been shopping! My first evening in my new flat saw me taking 3 trips back to back to the supermarket just to ensure that I had enough of the basics and food to last me 2 or 3 days and then it was time to do it all again!! But, where else in the world am I going to get the opportunity to scoot around on a vespa if its not going to be in the Caribbean, so when the rain pours down or my packet containing milk breaks and splatters all over the road in Georgetown, I just look up and smile at the gods and say- bring it on!! Can’t you do better than that- suckers!!
Yep, a whole new sense of humour has been obtained and the new laid-back caribbeanchicken is fast becoming the norm round here.
My new place is fantastic. I was sad to leave the idyllic beaches of 7 mile and move to the
south (and all us Jozi-ites know how dodgy the South can be), but my little spot already feels like home!
It’s been another long, hard 4 weeks in paradise and definitely time to update you all on what I’ve been up to!
Winter has settled into the Cayman Islands with ferocious force- the temperatures have dropped to 26 degrees, the wind has picked up and every now and then the heavens open and the island is drenched for 30 minutes. The raindrops here are enormous and the rain comes without warning and then leaves just as suddenly and because the island is so flat, everything is completely flooded in those few minutes until the sunshine starts to do its work!
Ofcourse, as much as it’s a great phenomenon to watch from your balcony whilst sipping a mojito and contemplating what to do next, it’s NOT such a great phenomenon to experience whilst sitting on your scooter and trying to dodge puddles which generally hide monster-sized potholes ready to swallow my vespa and I whole!!
Yep, driving the scooter has created numerous challenges for me over the past 6 weeks- white pants and rain aside- the biggest challenge has been shopping! My first evening in my new flat saw me taking 3 trips back to back to the supermarket just to ensure that I had enough of the basics and food to last me 2 or 3 days and then it was time to do it all again!! But, where else in the world am I going to get the opportunity to scoot around on a vespa if its not going to be in the Caribbean, so when the rain pours down or my packet containing milk breaks and splatters all over the road in Georgetown, I just look up and smile at the gods and say- bring it on!! Can’t you do better than that- suckers!!
Yep, a whole new sense of humour has been obtained and the new laid-back caribbeanchicken is fast becoming the norm round here.
My new place is fantastic. I was sad to leave the idyllic beaches of 7 mile and move to the
south (and all us Jozi-ites know how dodgy the South can be), but my little spot already feels like home!Unfortunately, it has come with one crezzy chicago-oan... more stories on him later...
Kite surfing is coming along pretty good. There are four of us girls that are learning and 2 weeks ago we all chipped in and bought one set of all the equipment for us to share (its not a cheap sport…hmmm) and now that the wind has picked up, we’re having a pretty good time being dragged all over the beach!
I have done quite a bit of snorkeling on the weekend and this week I have started my PADI open water course and I go on my first few dives tomorrow- YAY!
I also learnt to wakeboard last weekend and ofcourse seeing as I am such an ‘expert’ snow boarder I was quite blasé about the whole thing which saw me take a huge faceplant and I managed to pull a muscle in my back But I did spend quite a bit of time carving up the sea so that was fun!
At the end of November, “Dupree” finally moved out of Steph and Lee’s house as I managed to secure quite a nice ‘digs’ on the other side of GeorgeTown in an area called Southsound- cheaper but still a really beautiful area to live. There’s a 10km stretch of road that travels all the way up this really rugged coastline which is absolutely stunning to run and cycle on!
A few weekends ago, I attended a Ball- called Phantom of the Opera at St Pedros Castle. It was a fundraiser thing and low and behold, the following week’s newspaper had a huge photo of me in the socialite pages saying- Sarah Hooper at the Phantom of the Opera ball. So, I feel like I’ve made it now.
Next week, I lose the scooter as Lee’s brother is arriving from London so I have managed to get my hands on a really cute Rav 4 2-door. I collect her next Friday- can’t wait! It’s been around a few blocks but I am just so excited to get a roof over my head finally! And its blue. So that sealed the deal J.
I hope you are well and getting ready for a really festive Christmas and New Years! I can’t believe I will be on my way home again in 4 weeks for D&H’s wedding- it feels like I only arrived on island yesterday! Looking forward to catching up with everyone in January!
Kite surfing is coming along pretty good. There are four of us girls that are learning and 2 weeks ago we all chipped in and bought one set of all the equipment for us to share (its not a cheap sport…hmmm) and now that the wind has picked up, we’re having a pretty good time being dragged all over the beach!
I have done quite a bit of snorkeling on the weekend and this week I have started my PADI open water course and I go on my first few dives tomorrow- YAY!
I also learnt to wakeboard last weekend and ofcourse seeing as I am such an ‘expert’ snow boarder I was quite blasé about the whole thing which saw me take a huge faceplant and I managed to pull a muscle in my back But I did spend quite a bit of time carving up the sea so that was fun!At the end of November, “Dupree” finally moved out of Steph and Lee’s house as I managed to secure quite a nice ‘digs’ on the other side of GeorgeTown in an area called Southsound- cheaper but still a really beautiful area to live. There’s a 10km stretch of road that travels all the way up this really rugged coastline which is absolutely stunning to run and cycle on!
A few weekends ago, I attended a Ball- called Phantom of the Opera at St Pedros Castle. It was a fundraiser thing and low and behold, the following week’s newspaper had a huge photo of me in the socialite pages saying- Sarah Hooper at the Phantom of the Opera ball. So, I feel like I’ve made it now.
Next week, I lose the scooter as Lee’s brother is arriving from London so I have managed to get my hands on a really cute Rav 4 2-door. I collect her next Friday- can’t wait! It’s been around a few blocks but I am just so excited to get a roof over my head finally! And its blue. So that sealed the deal J.
I hope you are well and getting ready for a really festive Christmas and New Years! I can’t believe I will be on my way home again in 4 weeks for D&H’s wedding- it feels like I only arrived on island yesterday! Looking forward to catching up with everyone in January!
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