Gulliver's Travels part 3: Venice

In the summer of 2006, I worked in Munich and hungered to see the world. I was able to get 8 days off my summer internship and decided to go to Austria (Vienna) and Italy (Rome, Pisa and Sicily). After that chaotic trip, I wrote an email to my family and friends chronicling my adventures and these are the tales I will share with you for the next few weeks. 

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Soooo panting and all I found my seat. Most European long distance trains have cabins with six seats (3 on each side) and a sliding door for the cabin. My cabin mates were a middle aged Argentinian couple (they were really nice), two Korean students and a Chinese guy who only spoke Mandarin but was the nicest person ever. We all talked for a while and the Argentinian couple warned all of us to be extra careful in Italy since there are a lot of thieves and pickpockets. So I instantly went into Kenya mode which is the mode where you never leave your bags unattended, where you carry your backpack in front of you in crowds, tightly hold on to your bags and always have an eye open. I am proud to say I was not robbed even once in Italy . The Argentinians even told us there are thieves on the trains. By this time I was so exhausted, and dying to sleep. The guy opposite me (the Chinese guy) was so sweet and let me put my legs up on his seat. I gave him the same offer and he refused. The sweet guy stayed in this uncomfortable sitting position for the whole 12 hour journey, and even slept in this position, while I was comfortably stretched out. I honestly think my next boyfriend should be Asian. That guy was so polite and chivalrous! The two Korean dudes are the ones who lifted everyone’s bags up to the bag storage place. Surely that is sweetness.  Hmmm so we all slept. At one point though I woke up to the scariest noise I have ever heard. The Argentinian guy next to me was snoring so loud and so unrythmically that I could not believe it. I think people 1km away could probably hear him. It was a scary snore. Soooo scary that it was able to wake me up from my usually deep sleep. Yeah him and his wife were competing in the snoring department. Finally he turned over and the snoring became less loud. I fell asleep only to be awoken again by one of the Koreans loud snoring. I seriously think I must have been in the snoring cabin. Like honestly….I know many people who snore, but in this cabin it was unbelievable. It was more like choking coupled with screaming coupled with coughing and a bit of wheezing thrown in for good measure. Really bad snoring. I couldn't understand how they could sleep through their own snoring.

PS-DON’T DRINK THE WATER!!!!!! DON’T TOUCH THE WATER!!!!!

 Finally after sleeping on and off morning came. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Most of the taps in Italy have huge signs in red saying “Don’t drink the water.” I was seriously beginning to wonder what is wrong with Italian water. Munich water is the cleanest ever,and  drinkable. I did not drink the water though! Soooo I wash my face and brush my teeth. People I am not lying when I tell you that my gums bled and suddenly my face broke out in rashes later that day. Like seriously!!!!!!!! You would think that the most dangerous thing water could do to you is give you typhoid. But in the words of a guy I met in the train on my way to Sicily “Don’t touch the water!!!!!! It is acid!!!!” This was before his friend handed me a face wipe to save me from having to wash my face with water.

Oh back to Venice . So I am now sitting in the train watching the lovely scenery outside. Suddenly the train is on a bridge and the only thing below us is the Adriatic Sea (the name of the Mediterranean sea in the East of Italy.) It was so amazing. The sea was sparkling in the morning sun, and I felt this warm glow in my heart. It was soooooo beautiful. Arriving in Venice was so sooooo soooooooo one of those moments you can never forget in your life. Venice can truly not be described in words or pictures. I still find it hard to believe I saw such beauty. The whole city is right on the water. There are no buses, roads or taxis in the main part of Venice only boats, gondolas (the lovely narrow boats from ancient times), canals and very very narrow streets.Venice’s beauty is made more spectacular and fragile by the fact that the city has flooded 300 times in the past 10 years. One day there might be no more Venice . I really mean the buildings are right in the water. I honestly don’t know how the city was built. I saw someone get off their boat and jump into this huge building. The door of the building was only 2feet above the water, and the whole foundation was under water. Truly a marvel. I hopped into boat  ie bus no.1 (5 euros) – they call the commuter boats,buses- and traveled half an hour to St. Marco’s square which is the most famous part of Venice. The whole journey there was spell binding, and I kept on expecting to wake up. I got to St. Marco and passed all these traders selling all this carnival costumes/masks and swore to myself that the next time I come to Venice it will be during carnival ball. At St.Marco’s square I went to the famous St. Marco basilica. It was just toooooo much to take in. The whole beauty of the place. The whole magic of Venice . I was now beginning to feel overwhelmed. The basilica is really magical, and the symbolic sculptures on it were too many for me to really take in. The lion of Venice . Standing there in the middle of St. Marco’s square a single tear dropped down my cheek. It could have been the acid water affecting my eye sight, but it was not. I believe it was just the joy of being in Venice . The joy of seeing a place I had only read of in books. The whole feeling that God, Fate and Fortune wanted me to be in this exact spot at this exact moment of time. The fact that life is so unpredictable. The fact that a year ago I would not have dreamed of myself being in Venice , breathing in the cool ocean breeze, standing in a place of such historical significance. Just the feeling that this must have been a vital point in my life…..one which I will probably never fully understand. But even sitting here writing this email, yet more tears of joy roll down my cheek. There is beauty in this world. Beauty that is capable of evoking such strong emotions in someone’s heart. Standing in St. Marco’s square I felt so happy to be such a small small tiny fragment in this big big world. Standing there in St. Marco’s square filled me with wanderlust- a feeling that there is so much out there in the world to see. It made me make a vow never to pass up an opportunity to travel anywhere – Africa , Asia , Australia etc. There is so much for one to see that one could never know until they see it.

So after leaving St. Marco’s square I still had quite a bit of time to wander around. I started wandering through the streets trying to pay attention to what turns I had made so that I didn’t get lost when I had to go back to St. Marco’s square to catch my boat back to St. Lucia ie the train station stop. I walked through the winding streets. They were so beautiful and interesting. I can see why many books choose to portray Venice as a place of mystery and sometimes danger. The streets are winding and confusing. Some streets end in bridges which end in shops and lead one back to a different winding road. Like really it is easy for even an expert navigator to get lost in Venice . So after a few turns I still knew where I was. I was still walking without paying attention to the turns I made then I realized “oh crap!!! I am lost!!!!” Note to self……..”Never ask Italians for directions!!!”

Carrie: “ Hallo, how do I get to St. Marco”

Italian 1: “e left……. Keep on straight.”

Half an hour later

Carrie: : “ Hallo, how do I get to St. Marco”

Italian 2: “e right…..straight.”

I got totally contrasting directions from everyone. Anyway finally I managed to get knowledgeable tourists who pointed me in the right direction : left, walk 10 minutes straight, the fourth bridge, turn right…..walk fifteen minutes….blah blah blah.” I luckily got to my train station early. It was so sad saying goodbye to Venice …..sob sob!!!

Gulliver's Travels part 2: Arrival in Vienna

In the summer of 2006, I worked in Munich and hungered to see the world. I was able to get 8 days off my summer internship and decided to go to Austria (Vienna) and Italy (Rome, Pisa and Sicily). After that chaotic trip, I wrote an email to my family and friends chronicling my adventures and these are the tales I will share with you for the next few weeks. 

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Hmmm I assure you people that Austria is as beautiful as it looks in the Sound of Music. As soon as we got into Austrian soil, the scenery changed. It was lovely rolling hills, grassy mountainsides, small houses, streams, rivers and lakes. The grassy mountainsides were so lovely and I could just picture Julie Andrews running around singing “Do- A deer a female deer”. The landscape was breathtaking. One minute the train would be at the bottom of the hills and one would look out the window and see that we were surrounded by a fortress of hills in all directions. The next minute we would be at the top of a hill looking down into a valley. Hmmmm thinking of it makes me smile. It looked like a scene from the garden of  Eden. We got to Vienna at 1335 (four hour journey.) I put my suitcase in storage at the train station in Vienna (2euros).Vienna is in relatively flat ground for Austria . It was beautiful. It’s so strange how in Europe one just crosses a border and sees people who look totally different from where you left and who also speak different dialects or languages. I guess this change would be more drastic in Africa where if one moves across borders the people look totally different eg Kenyans, Sudanese, Ethiopians, Ugandans, Tanzanians and Somalis. Even across towns I guess. In Vienna the people were slightly shorter than Germans and they spoke German with such a cute accent. The mannequins in shops were also short (which looked really strange.) Doorways were also slightly lower.

Our first stop in Austria was the castle of empress Elizabeth who was the most famous empress of the Austrian-Hungarian empire, and lived in the late 19th century, and was assassinated in Geneva. In Vienna she is a a cult icon with many movies having been made about her life. She was originally from Munich and did not take to royalty well. She suffered from depression, anorexia and hysteria during her time as empress. She is also famous for her haunting beauty and love of sad poetry. Her castle is like something from a story book. With our tickets into the castle(7euros) we also got entrance into the gold display. The gold display is basically gold articles from the castle. It was unbelievable. I have never seen so much gold in my life.  They even had gold cutlery. If I was ever a dinner guest at the castle I would surely have accidentally carried out a spoon or two of solid gold:-) It was just sooooooo sooooooooo much gold that after a while I couldn’t look at it anymore. Gold candlesticks, Gold picture frames, Gold lamps, Gold statues etc The rest of the Castle was also really lovely and well adorned.

Our next stop in Vienna was St. Stephans Cathedral. A lovely old cathedral whose architecture I really can’t define. It looks gothic, but it is sort of wide though it has one really high steeple pointing towards heaven(but it is on one side of the cathedral.) The cathedral is highly asymmetric, and interesting to look at. It is really famous for it’s outer roof that is a mosaic made up of tiny little pieces that must have taken ages to put up.  After this Adele and I decided just to randomly walk around, and see what we could see. Adele has already been to Italy , and I remember we were talking about Italian guys. She told me they are cute but they are generally shorter than the average European. I was  thoroughly taken aback. Surely life is not fair. Surely this cannot be true!!!!! What???? Italian men- short? I tried to push this thought to the back of my mind for it was more than I could fathom. However, she told me that Venetians are taller than other Italians. By this point however I was already inconsolable. Short, dark and handsome……but short nonetheless. Surely, surely do not believe all you see on TV my dear friends………

So anyway we went to a few parks in Vienna , and by this point the weather (which had initially been rainy) was now beginning to warm up. The parks were lovely with huge trees which were a lovely shade of green, and lovely fresh air. Finally I realized I had an hour before my train left for Venice/Venezia/Venedig (in English, Italian and German.) We calmly started walking back to the train station, and let me assure you people that places always seem closer than they really are. I guess we must have walked really far for when we tried getting back to the station we just couldn’t reach it. I am telling you people that 10 minutes before my train was to leave we were still ages from the station. You would think once beaten twice shy….but yet here I was again about to miss my train. Hmmmm I have never ran like that. We ran like mad women through the streets of Vienna . Finally got to the train station, got my bags and jumped into my train just seconds before it departed. Off I was to Venice ……the land of dreams.




The mountain that eats men

One of the towns I visited during my cross-country tour of Bolivia was Potosi. Potosi is a mining town (originally was mostly silver, but now is primarily zinc and tin.) I looked at my itinerary and it read "Tour of Silver Mines in Potosi." A smarter traveller would have read up on this expedition in order to know what to expect, but clearly I didn't - until I had already gone to the torturous mines. 

Some brief history of the mines. It all started in 1545, when an Indian shepherd, who was spending the night at the mountain, started a fire and saw pure silver where he was. For centuries, the mountain enriched the Spanish monarchy. For close to 200 years, over 40,000 MT of pure silver were taken from the mountain, of which close to a quarter directly went to the Spanish monarchy. Native laborers were used to work on its mines through the traditional Incan system of mandatory public service but the Spanish manipulated this system to essentially use forced-labour. Many of the miners died due to the harsh working conditions in the mines. It is estimated that over the next three centuries, over 33 million Indians worked in the mines and close to 10 million of them died as a direct result of the work.  To compensate for the diminishing labor force, the Spaniards started importing 2000 African slaves per year. An estimated 30,000 African slaves were taken to Potosi during the colonial era. African slaves were also forced to work as human mules. Four mules were replaced with twenty African slaves. Given the high number of deaths that took place in the mines each year, the miners named it "The mountain that eats men."

Centuries later, working conditions in the mines are still not much better than they were before. The mines have no lighting, no safety regulations or inspectors, no modern rail cars and no pumped-in oxygen, leaving miners to inhale a fine deadly dust. The average life expectancy of the miners is 40 years with most of them succumbing to lung conditions. The mountain itself is also at the risk of collapse given how much has been mined from it and given the fact that the mining is unregulated resulting in shafts throughout the mountain. 

So we were to leave the hostel at 7am for the mine tour. The lady who was to give us the tour arrived around 7:15am and took us to a room with lots of dusty clothes, boots, headlamps etc for us to wear/carry. I later realized that our guide was the widow of a miner who had died in the mines a few years back, and she had to take on this risky job to feed her two children. We hopped into a van and left for the mountain. She said that we would stop by some shops and buy gifts for the miners (alcohol and coca leaves.) I was a bit surprised about the choice of gifts, but just went with the flow. The alcohol was quite scary looking - no brand, no label, no nothing. It looked like something you would use to sterilize surgical instruments, pour on a snake bite or something along those lines. Coca leaves are legal in Bolivia. It's the only country in the world where the sale and consumption of coca leaves is legal. It is even protected under some UN regulation because of its "cultural significance to the indeginous population." 

We got to the mountain around 9am, and the van left us at a point 4300M (~14,000 feet) above sea level. This would be the point we would enter the mountain from. I started feeling a bit nervous when we got out of the van and I realized just how cold it was and also how thin the air was. It was not easy to breathe. The next 3 hours in the mines were what I would describe as some form of outer body experience. We got into the mines and I realized that I would have to stoop most of the time and in some parts crawl. I was not the tallest in our group. There were four really tall Dutch girls. I felt bad for them. It was dark, it was damp, there was very little air. There were points when everyone was coughing or gasping for air. I was encouraged to chew some of the coca leaves we had brought as gifts for the miners. I think that's the only reason I didn't pass out. Coca leaves help with altitude issues. Most of the tunnels were so low that you had to go in hunched over and there were a few points you had to crawl. We blew up some dynamite in the caves and I can still feel the BOOM in my heart. Terrifying. I started having crazy thoughts. I can't tell if it was because of the coca leaves, the altitude or both. I started thinking about the Chilean miners. I started getting scared I would lose the group and forever be lost in the mountain/die in the  mountain.

We got to a place in the mine where I got to see how the miners thought of mortality when in the mines. The average Bolivian is very Catholic, but there is quite a bit of syncretism too - where elements of Catholicism are combined with elements of traditional indeginous religions. Deep in the mine we found a terrifying statue of the devil that was adorned with flowers, cigarette butts and libations of alcohol had been offered to this "protector of the miners." Our guide explained that the miners were Catholic when out of the mines and they believed God was protecting them outside, but once inside the mines they believed this was the devil's domain and therefore they prayed to the devil and offered sacrifices to the devil to "protect them from cave ins, prevent any injuries, restore them to good health etc." I can kind of understand how one would want to cover all their bases - pray to God to keep you safe, but also pray to the devil not to do you any harm.....

I left the mines with such deep respect for miners who have such a terrible job, risking their lives daily to feed their families. It is sad to know that many the world over have to pick between life and your next meal. 

After this I went out for lunch with some of my fellow comrades (from the tour.) We all bonded over just how terrifying that was. I remember being so happy when I saw sunlight as we approached the exit of the mine. For a while there, I was really beginning to believe we would not get out. We went to the local market and had lots and lots of food for less than USD 2/person. After that I went with a few people to have a drink in the park and almost missed my night bus to Uyuni. I remember having to run around like a mad woman with my huge backpack looking for a taxi when the one the hostel had called decided not to show up. I made it to my bus just in time. It was such a local bus - lots of hawkers ON the bus, people playing loud music from their own little radios and lots of noise. 

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Traversing the Bolivian desert and salt flats day 3

The third morning of the trip was tough. Though we had gone to bed around 9pm to be ready for 3:30am breakfast and our 4am departure, the cold had kept me up all night. I barely slept a wink - I can't sleep if I am cold. It was freezing! We had a quick breakfast at 3:30 and left the hostel around 4am. The ride was dark and cold. I tried to sleep in the car, but again it was too cold to sleep. After driving for close to an hour, we stopped at the amazing steam geysers at "Sol de Manana (morning sun)." It was so cold outside, but I could not miss a chance to see them up close. I got out and the first thing that hit me was the overpowering stench of sulphur. It really smelled like some giant monster had farted - really badly. The view was amazing though.

We then hopped back into the car and continued to "Laguna verde" - The Green Lagoon. The lagoon gets its remarkable color fom the high levels of lead, sulphur and calcium carbonate....in short...don't try swimming or drinking water from this pretty lagoon. The best part of the trip was when we finally got to the natural hot baths. In the middle of the freezing desert, there were nice jacuzzis:-) All natural. It was the best feeling getting into that hot water. Everyone sighed with relief once they were in. At first we were the only people there given it was so early. 20 or so minutes later, lots of other tourists descended on us. This didn't change the magic of the moment though. I was sitting in this hot water looking all around me and I could see volcanic mountains in the desert and miles and miles of nothingness blurred by the steam rising out of the hot water. It was surreal. After half an hour in the hot baths, the driver said we needed to leave. Those of us who were going on to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile needed to catch our 10am bus. 

Leaving Bolivia was dramatic. We got to the bus at the border around 9am and thought we had lots of time. For some reason, the driver of the bus to San Pedro was hurrying us. None of us was amused. Such panic mode is what results in luggage being left behind....and we had a full hour. We never understood what the rush was about. At the border, we had to go to the Bolivian customs and get our documents stamped. The driver was still following us speaking in rapid Spanish. As I was waiting in line, an American couple approached me and asked if I could give them some Bolivianos for them to pay their entry into Bolivia, in exchange for dollars. I was a bit suspicious - wondering why they didn't change money before until they told me about the earthquake in Chile. I had no idea there had been an earthquake in Chile, when we were in the desert. He told me that they had left under such hurried circumstances and couldn't find any travel bureaus. I changed some money for him. The driver came again with his rapid fire Spanish and panic mode tendencies and I was really getting irritated. He was also harrasing one of the other girls I had been in the desert with. She had a traditional Bolivian mask and it had a bit of animal fur, and he was insisting she leaves it behind as she wouldn't be allowed to get through Chilean customs with it. She stood her ground and said she would keep it and declare it on entry into Chile.

In an hour we finally got to Chilean customs. It was a very serious process - thorough scrutiny of passports, all suitcases offloaded and scanned etc. When the customs official saw my passport, he called his colleague over to look at it. They said it was the first Kenyan passport they had seen. A few people in our bus had some bags of coca leaves and the rest of us had coca tea. We were allowed to declare and get into the country with our coca tea, but not the coca leaves. The girl with the mask was also allowed to get in with her mask. Five minutes after clearing with customs we were dropped off somewhere in the middle of the desert town of San Pedro de Atacama. I had directions to my hostel from the main bus terminal, but had no idea where we had been dropped off. It was definitely not a bus terminal. 

I was eventually able to walk around with my backpack, find the main bus terminal, book my ticket out of San Pedro to Santiago that was depart in two days, and get to my hostel.I got to my hostel and it was a desert oasis. The name was Hostal Mamatierra, and it was just perfect! Beautiful, clean, had hot water 24 hours a day, wifi, really friendly staff, friendly travelers etc. My first course of action was to take a really really really long hot shower. It felt so good after not having been clean for a while. The next thing was to find out where I could do laundry. I took my laundry into a place in town - the town center was 10 minutes walk away. I am very liberal in my use of the word "town". It was a few streets with shops and restaurants, but after the desert this felt like New York. I then went to a restaurant that had a decent offer for a 3 course meal. I had salmon. I was quite pleased with it. Chile's strong economy has been credited a lot to its export of salmon, wine and berries. That salmon was amazing! I had my lunch with a really great beer from Patagonia that tasted like chocolate. 

The one thing I had done before leaving the hostel was to get on wifi and upload around 20-30 pictures from the salt flats and desert. That was my saving grace. As I was having my lunch, my phone crashed. It is a touch screen and the keypad stopped working. I couldn't unlock the screen. Within minutes, the phone started pressing its own buttons. This went on for half an hour then it went on VOK/KBC mode - those rainbow colored lines across the screen reminiscent of Kenyan TV circa 1980s. Then the screen went completely white - repeat. I think it has something to do with that dodgy solar connection from the desert. Thankfully I have a camera with me and a samsung tab (that I was able to hack whatsapp on....so life continues.)

I got back to the hostel and met my roommates. They were two friendly Californians who were in town for a friend's wedding. They invited me to join them and their friends for dinner/drinks. It was nice. We got back to the room, and were getting ready for bed when another earthquake happened. I had no idea what was going on.The room was shaking like a boat. I thought I had drank too much at dinner. Thankfully my roommates knew what to do. We all got out of the room and joined the other people in the hostel courtyard. After a few minutes, the world stopped rocking. I slept really well that night in my warm room with all the comforts I could ask for. 

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Traversing the Bolivian desert and salt flats day 2

On the second day, we woke up at 8am. We were informed that we were now done with the salt flats and would be off to the Siloli desert. The desert is part of the Atacama desert, and is characterized by rock formations produced by strong winds in the region. There was a bit of morning drama as one of the people in our group wanted to go see some llamas that were in a church compound, and we were  running really late. Everyone else said that they would rather leave, but the offending party insisted on going. By the time she came back to the car, tensions were high. I read my kindle. I don't like drama, and didn't want to get involved in any. Thankfully by later in the day things had cooled off, but there were definitely three camps in the car 1. The "we were meant to leave here at 8:15 and it's 8:17am. I am going to fume and sulk" camp, that had one occupant. 2. The next camp was the "Wow. Who cares about time. I am going to do a bit of yoga and meditation at every place we stop....and only start looking for the loo at the exact time we are meant to be on our way" camp. This camp had one occupant. The rest of us were in the "I'm not too bothered as long as we get to see everything" camp. It was not a trip without drama. 

The day was amazing! Among other great sites, we got to see amazing volcanic rock formations in the Siloli desert. The most beautiful rock formations were the "Arbol del Piedra" and the "Desierto Dali." I had the most amazing pictures, but unfortunately my phone crashed within hours of leaving the desert, and I was only able to salvage a few pictures...which I am sharing here. I hope to upload the rest in future when I hopefully get my phone fixed in Nairobi. We passed amazing volcanic mountains on our way with the most stunning being Volcan Uturuncu that stands at over 6000 above sea level and also Volcan Licancabur that stands at around 5900M above sea level. We passed many beautiful lagoons in the desert with some having quite a few pink flamingos. It was great to see wildlife given that none can survive in the salt flats where we were the previous day. We also passed some really cute animals that look like gazelles. 

In the evening we got to our accommodation for the night. This place was by Laguna Colorado and was REAL...like really REAL...no real electricity, no showers, no meat for dinner. It really dawned on me that we were in the middle of the desert. At this place all 6 of us were kept in one dorm room. I was actually happy to have so many people in the room because I thought it meant we would be warm....wrong......That was the coldest I have ever been since leaving Boston in 2009. We ate dinner - spaghetti and onion stew....The next day we were to begin our journey at 4am...breakfast at 3:30am. We went to sleep by 9pm to be up in time. I saw everyone get into their beds with sleeping bags. I really wished I had a sleeping bag. I slept in all my warm clothes...which wasn't much. There was a guy who had a silk sleeping bag. Definitely buying one next time. It's really light weight, and silk is an amazing material - warm when you are cold, and cold when you are hot. 

Before I slept, I took my phone to the kitchen to beg for them to charge it for a few hours so that I could use it the next day for pictures. Big mistake. The power was only going to be on in the kitchen for 2 hours and the connection seemed dodgy...wires hanging out, loose sockets etc....and they said the power was solar. The next morning when I picked my phone, it had not charged at all....and the next day is when it lost its damn mind. I think the connection in the Siloli desert did my phone in - more on that drama in my next post.

All in all, the salt flats and the Siloli desert was the most beautiful place I have ever been to in my life. The colors, the vastness of the desert, the tranquility. Bolivia really does have the most stunning landscape. At so many points, one felt like they were on the moon. I have never seen anything like it. 

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Traversing the Bolivian salt flats and desert - day 1

I got into the town of Uyuni around 11pm on a Sunday evening, and was off for a desert expedition early the next morning. I left my hostel around 9:45am and walked to the place where we would be departing from. We were to leave at 10:30am but by 11:30am there was still no progress. In La Paz, I had been told that the trip would be in a 4*4 and that we would be 6 in total (excluding the driver.) I eventually met the other travelers as we waited for our transportation to arrive. There were 2 German girls (one who was more Australian than German given she had a really strong Aussie accent, and had lived there a long time), one German guy, one Uruguayan guy, one French girl, the Bolivian driver and myself. By the time we departed, there was a long line of jeeps leaving the town for the salt flats and the desert. I am a tourist, but I must confess that I feel a bit upset when I realize that I am not unique.....all a thousand plus of us heading off to see the same sites:-) Our driver was really great so pretty soon we were able to lose the long lines of jeep.....vroooooooom.....Eat our dust:-)

Our first stop was the train cemetery. Construction of the rail was completed in 1892, and the trains were mostly used by mining companies. In the 1940s, the mining industry collapsed and many trains were abandoned here.  It was such a beautiful sight. All these abandoned trains in the desolate space. It looked like something from an old Western film. It was beautiful. After this we drove for hours and all we could see around us was salt. We passed some little salt hills in the beginning, but after that the landscape was all flat. It was amazing - as far as your eyes could see, the ground was all white. I have never seen anything like this - except for snow - and even with snow, there was always buildings or cars to break the landscape. In the car, one of the other travelers began talking about all the really creative pictures one can take given the never-changing background. I was about to eat a banana I had in my bag when she mentioned that it would be a great prop for pictures. It is the fascinating little beat up specimen you will see in pictures below. When we got out at the spot where people mostly take such pictures, I was amazed. The ground was solid salt and we were told that it extends even more than 9m deep into the ground. It was solidified salt. We had a fun time taking crazy pictures here before sitting down to enjoy our lunch - a little picnic on our salt carpet. Brilliant! During lunch hour the Uruguayan guy and I ironed out some differences.....Suarez is the devil for what he did to our Ghanaian brother - Asamoah Gyan, but I don't blame all your countrymen.... just him.... and malipo ni hapa duniani (payback is on earth:-)

The Uyuni Salt Flats (Salar de Uyuni) is the world's largest salt flat at over 10,000 square km, and an elevation of more than 3600m (~12,000 feet above sea level.) It was formed as a result of transformations between several prehistoric lakes. The salt is extremely rich in lithium. 50-70% of the world's lithium reserves are found at Salar de Uyuni. 

After this we drove for half an hour and arrived at the Incahuasi Island that was full of giant cacti. This was where I learnt for the first time that I had been doing it all wrong in South America. For a while I had wondered why in many washrooms, water pressure was too low to flush toilet paper. Many times I had waited for cisterns to fill 2-3 times before finally being able to get rid of all toilet paper. In the loo in the island, there was a sign that read, "Do not flush your toilet paper. Put it in the waste basket." I asked one of my fellow travelers about it, and she said, "Yeah, you should never flush toilet paper down the loo in most places in Central and South America." I was clearly confused, but I have taken it as it is......though I must say a latrine would be a much better option than having a pretend toilet that doesn't flush toilet paper.....who wants to have a bucket of crap in a loo......literally...

Enough about random crap. That island was amazing! Just imagine being in the middle of hundreds of miles of salt flats, and suddenly seeing an island with giant cacti in the horizon. I think Uyuni salt flats and the desert are an amazing site for sci-fi movies. I have never ever seen anything like it. The island was a hill, and in the beginning I had no intentions of going all the way to the top, but I somehow climbed up the whole hill. Every few meters I went up, I would look down and see the most stunning views of the island and the salt flats - I just had to keep going till I reached the summit. I sat at the top for a few minutes and marveled about nature. When one finds such beauty, you just want to save those images in your mind (and in your camera) forever!

Other amazing sites we saw were Devil's cave - a pre-Incan cemetery from about 500 - 800 AD. 

Again we drove for hundreds more miles in this amazing landscape and finally got to the Salt Hotel around 7pm. True to it's name, most of the hotel was made of salt. Our beds, were pillars of salt. The ground was granules of salt. The benches were pillars of salt. Something had been bothering me for the better part of the day. Within minutes of leaving Uyuni (around noon), my phone network had gone off, and had not come back since. I had enquired about it and someone told me "duh. We are in the middle of nowhere.....of course there is no phone network." I panicked and wondered "Oh gosh. Does this mean we also won't have wifi where we are staying?"  She added "In fact we probably won't have any electricity for the next few days." Now, I really panicked. I had been using my phone as my camera,and the battery was almost done by the time we got to the Salt Hotel. There were no sockets in the room. Thankfully a kind lady in the kitchen agreed to charge my phone for me for a few hours. 

I slept moderately well that night as the salt in the room made the temperatures bearable. 

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Beware! The hippies will drink your beer!

So one day in Arembepe, we finally went to the hippie village. This fishing village was a hippie haven in the 1960s. In its heyday, it attracted the likes of Janis Joplin, Mick Jagger, and Roman Polanski.

There was a direct route by road, but the person I was with took me on the scenic route, which was beautiful, but I should really have worn other types of shoes. I was in the one pair of flats I brought to South America.We walked 1km through some grassy patches, then another kilometer over a swamp/seasonal river (that was sort of in season), then another kilometer down a dirt road and finally 2km along the beach. Clearly I should not blame my shoes for being completely torn after the trip. I had to throw them away.....which in retrospect is ok because it gave me a good excuse to buy some amazing cheap flats in Bolivia later on. 

We got to the village and it was such a different place. I had no idea what to expect,but when I got there, we found people farming, some washing clothes by hand etc. Basically I think most of us Kenyans are hippies, if that's what being a hippie means. My friend had told me that in the village they don't use money, but we definitely paid for our beers with money - so i'm not quite sure how it works. There was a little arts and crafts market in the village where a few old people were selling stuff. They were quite high, and still smoking up. It is so strange, you know there is a smell of someone who is drunk, but there is a more distinct smell of a drunkard. In the same way, there is a smell of someone smoking up, and a more distinct smell of someone who smokes up all the time. That is the smell I will take with me. For some of the old hippies, the pungent smell of weed is forever going to remain with them - in their hair, in their clothes, in their breath etc. Everyone was really nice though - that's the one thing that should be said about potheads - not at all dangerous, but barely functional. Although my Portuguese was less than basic, I could notice the slurring and the slow speech of most of the hippies - especially the older ones. 

After looking at the various ornaments on sale, we heard some drumbeats and followed the sound. We got to the outside part of the bar where a group of 5 or so people were gathered making music. One person was on the drums, one on the guitar, a few singing and one with the shakers. It was very impromptu and quite beautiful. People kept on joining, some leaving, some singing, some dancing etc. At some point I was given the shaker, and I joined. I think I was a bit crap at the shaker, because someone came and took them from me after 15 minutes or so, but I felt so happy when I was playing. I began to see what the magic was about this place - the easy sort of joy. Not anything extravagant. Not anything big. Just the peace of sitting in a village making music with complete strangers. There were lots of mosquitoes around, but even that didn't bug me too long.

At some point, I asked if there were any English songs we could do. I sang a few Bob Marley songs. I had such a great time. One of the guitarists then invited me to do an improvisation act. I would sing whatever I want, and he would figure out how to play it - even if he didn't know the song. It worked so well. I don't know how we managed to be in sync. It was as if music was another language that we could communicate by. He knew the next notes I was going to hit even before I knew them myself. I did a mash up of Anjelique Kidjo's "Bahia", Brenda Fassie's "Nomankanjani" and threw in some Fadhili Williams "Malaika" because everyone really wanted to hear something African. It was so much fun. 

The one irritating thing though was how my beers were distributed to the masses. In Brazil, the culture is very collective. Everywhere I had been, I realized it was good manners to share a beer, rather than buy two beers at a time. I had gotten used to this reciprical nature - I buy a beer, and distribute it, then the next person does the same and we are all happy in the end. I think another reason Brazillians do it, is because they hate warm beers. I always got the impression that a warm beer was frowned upon more than an expired beer would be. I observed people pour out beer with a look of disgust on their faces, if it had gotten warm in their glass. Sharing a beer helps you avoid the beer getting warm. In the hippie village, I ordered 3 beers, but they were to come one at a time. The price was better if you got the 3 beers. The bar owner and her friend were sitting next to me. She brought out the first beer, poured some for me, poured some for her friend and then poured some for herself.....I was thinking, "Uhhhhhm, there best be a discount, now that you are all helping yourselves to my beer." They did that even with the next two - and there was no discounted price at the end....That I did not like. Beware - the hippies will mooch off your beer.

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Bank and flight drama in Arembepe

I had a few wasted days in Arembepe. Having cancelled my bus ticket out of Salvador de Bahia, I had booked a flight online. When I got to Arembepe, I didn't have wifi there, but at times my phone's internet connection through the data plan was good enough to receive emails. When in Arembepe, I received an email from the website I booked my flight with, letting me know that my card had been declined. With my poor phone internet, I tried several times to skype my bank in the US and find out what was going on - unsuccessfully.  I began to get nervous because I started thinking that perhaps my bank marked this booking as fraudulent activities and would immediately cancel my credit and debit cards, when I am in the middle of South America. That would be really bad. Anyway thankfully after a few days and communication challenges (no net, bad skype connections, pending emails etc), I was able to finally get my ticket to Peru booked.

I did a bit of sightseeing everyday in Arembepe. It was really beautiful. One evening we went to the beach and I enjoyed taking pictures of the boats at sunset - and also using them as photo props:-) In the evenings, we almost always ate acaraje at Cachitas. One thing I kept on wondering about is why no one had different flavours of acaraje. I wondered if I was the first person who had inquired about chicken acaraje. All the ladies sold the same type of acaraje - an option with shrimp and one without. For me it really told me a lot about the culture in Bahia. Culture is extremely important there, and they have maintained their culture for centuries. Acaraje has been made in the same way for generations, and perhaps the thought of even changing the formula, will somehow be a betrayal of culture......Who knows...Maybe I am overthinking it. Maybe chicken really is much more expensive an ingredient than shrimp or maybe chicken just doesn't go well with okra.....

There was a full moon when I was in Arembepe, and everyone kept on telling us about the "luau" party that would happen on the night of the full moon. It would be in the hippie village. I began to get really excited about it, but on the day of, it rained cats and dogs. I have never seen torrential rain like that. It was really beautiful to watch from indoors. 

Anyway, the day after the "luau" party that never happened, I got to go the hippie village. That was an experience and a half. More about that in my next post. 

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Moving to Arembepe, Bahia!

At some point I realized that if I was to stay in Bahia longer, I needed to move somewhere cheaper. I decided to move to a town called Arembepe. Packing my backpack was a trial. I am not the neatest person in the world, and in the one week of staying in my own room at the hostel, I had thrown everything everywhere. I really wonder how everything made it into the backpack - that was nothing short of a miracle. As I waited for my friend to take me to Arembepe, I decided to find a nice quiet place with wifi where I could blog. I found a cafe in Pelourinho called "Cubanos". I wanted to order something cheap to sip on then stay therefor hours and use their wifi. I ordered a drink called "green coconut" and what showed up on my table was a humoungous green coconut, with a straw. Not exactly what I had in mind to while the time away - especially given the coconut could not stand on its own. Finally I left for Arembepe, and my backpack nearly killed me. I had forgotten how heavy that bag was. 

On my first day in Arembepe, we walked for half an hour to get to a very beautiful river and went swimming there. At some point I was getting carried away by the euphoria (and maybe the cachaca in my system too), and swam out further. My friends stopped me and told me not to go too far because of the snakes and the plants whose tendrils could entangle someone. I asked, "What? There are snakes in this river?" and my friends responded, "Yeah, but at this time they probably won't bite. They have already eaten." I didn't get the logic of it, but at that point I limited my swimming close to the shore. The day was so hot that at some point we passed a dead frog on the road that must have died from heat exhaustion - at least that's what I think. 

In the evening we explored the town and ate the most amazing acaraje in the city center from a lady called "Cachita". She has had her stand there for over 20 years. Yummmy! We then joined some friend's of my friend's friend for drinks. 

It was an early night after all the traveling. 

 

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Cachita!

Cachita!