Sure footed as a mule?

Greetings from Copacabana, Bolivia (see picture 2). While it has been great to be in this tranquil, lakeside town, I am dismayed to report that the intestinal monster has struck again. While I have an affinity for mosquitos, fleas, sandflies and whatever other insect that bites, poor Dave seems to be well-liked by intestinal parasites and bacteria. The good news is that he is on the mend once again and today we head off to La Paz eager to try the cheapest, tastiest, organic, fair-trade chocolate in the world!

Given that we´ve been too ´distracted´to post frequently, here´s a quick recap of the last two weeks or so. First, the name of this post is inspired by our trip to Cañon del Colca, the second deepest canyon in the world. As you can see in picture 1, it´s pretty crazy but not quite the same sort of image as the grand canyon. We hiked down into the canyon to this small oasis. Unfortunately, given the blazing heat of the sun and effects of the altitude, I was too big of a wimp to hike back up the 1000 meters we descended and we hired mules. It was quite the nail-biting experience because Dave´s mule was either sick from exhaustion or just too old to work hard and fell down numerous times. Now, imagine you are on a mule, now imagine this mule hopping up a very steep ascent with a huge drop off, and finally, picture this mule slipping and falling every 10 minutes or so. Pretty scary. We were very relieved to reach the top although our bruised butts were not. Still the scenery made it all well worth the experience.

Finally, the last two pictures are from my trip to Isla del Sol (unfortunately, Dave was home sick with said intestinal ailment). I´ve already written too much so I´ll be brief: the first picture is of Lake Titicaka and Cordillera mountain range in Bolivia. The second picture is of Isla del Sol. Very pretty trip although it would have been better if Dave could have been there.

That´s all for now, since we´re heading off to our jungle adventure soon, it may be a while until our next post.

Holy Crap!

(Arequipa, Peru)
(Bus ride from Nazca to Arequipa)

The title of this post refers, in triplicate, to the week following the previous post. The religious processions continued throughout the week in Ayacucho, and were unlike anything we´d ever see at home. Appatently every Peruvian vacations during Easter week, making it nearly impossible for us to book a room for our onward travel. Luckily, after many desperate telephone calls, we booked a room and were prepared for departure on the overnight bus to Ica.

Remember when Dave was getting better, and then Natalie was getting better, and things were looking up? That was before Natalie had to request that the overnight bus pull over so Dave could remedy his intestinal problem to the viewing pleasure of the entire right side of the bus. Fortunately it was only eight more hours until our next stop...

Upon arriving in Ica (translates to ¨worst place in Peru¨), that hostel with the one room available in Ica claimed that we had not made a reservation and there were no rooms left. By the grace of our cab driver, we found a room (and a bathroom) ten hostel/hotels later. A day and a half spend in said bathroom ensued for Dave.

After complete recovery, we left Ica in the literal and figurative dust for a night in Nazca, and then Arequipa. Despite the exhausting bus rides and intestinal recalcitrance, the scenery in Peru has left us in a perpetual state of amazement. The vastness of the landscapes, the towering Andes, and the deepest canyons in the world are just a few of the visual highlight. These can be seen above in the latest round of pictures. Today we´re in Copacabana, Bolivia, on Lake Titicaca, for another highlight on what seems to be a never ending reel of ¨holy crap¨ inducing sight. Our South America adventure is past the halfway point, and the light quickly advances.

Thousands of mg´s of cipro later...

Picking up from where we left off...we find ourselves in the Jesus capital of Peru, Ayacucho. This week is commonly referred to as Semana Santa (the week before easter) and thousands of Peruvians flock to the Andean town of Ayacucho to celebrate in what´s known as the biggest celebration of Semana Santa in the country. Dave is getting attention in the form of dumb-founded stares, smiles, chuckles, eager hellos, or the basic "Jesus" or "Christo" cat calls. We have seen religious processions a plenty, including the one in the third photo. Otherwise a sleepy town that rarely sees gringo tourists, during Semana Santa the streets are packed with thousands of people. Hectic, but exciting.

Prior to our pilgrimage, we visited some Moche (pre-Inka) ruins outside of Trujillo. The top photo is the Temple of the Sun, which wasn´t actually called that in Moche times, so they are struggling with what to call it now. The second photo is from inside the Temple of the Moon, which, you guessed it, wasn´t actually called the Temple of the Moon. No matter what they´re called, they are some remarkable ruins, dating to sometime around 500 ad. The second photo shows a well-preserved likeness of their god, which looks slightly different than diety being paraded around in photo 3. We head southwest to rejoin the "gringo trail" tonight, and will be in Ica tomorrow. Maybe we´ll post some photos of us sandboarding, or maybe not...stay tuned.

Huanchaco! Huanchaco!

For all you anxious readers who were expecting some glorious pictures from the awesome mountain treks, we have some bad news...upon our first 24 hours in Huaraz (Dave's birthday to be exact), Dave was confined to bed with a fever and not the most pleasant intestinal situation. Thank god for Cipro. After three days of being bed ridden, we realized that glorious mountain treks were not in our future. In the first image you can see the beautiful Cordillera Blanca mountain range that taunted us every day from our hostel patio. After much disappointment and many trips to the bathroom, we decided to let go of Huaraz and head to the beach for some recuperation. Our lovely hostel family took great care of us until we embarked on the 9 hour overnight bus ride to Trujillo. From Trujillo we hopped on a rickety yet brightly painted "combi" (short bus) to Huanchaco, an old fishing village on the north coast of Peru. The name of the post is inspired by what the bus navigators yell at you from the street in effort to coax you onto the combi. So far, Huanchaco has been well worth the trip and we've eaten some ceviche, in defiance of the intestinal troubles. Stay tuned for more as we head back to Lima tomorrow to begin our journey through the Central Highlands of Peru (but not before we find a sports bar for the final four...sigh).