Four days in a paradise

How amazing was my experience of doing the Santa Cruz trek in Cordillera Blanca! I definitely don't regret buying a guided 4-day hiking trip from Galaxia Expeditions. Actually I was planning to do it in three days, as I'm short of time, but I was enjoying it so much that I didn't want to go earlier than the rest of the group. Our group was really nice, a mixture of Europeans, an American and a Japanese photographer, a total of 6 people aged 28-44. We were attended to by a crew of three: Vicente was looking after the mules that carried our tents, food and backpacks; Umberto cooked us real restaurant food in challenging conditions and Lucas, our guide, was the coolest, sportiest and most handsome youngman with a lot of patience. "This is a dream, this is a paradise!" I heard people saying while we were walking in the valleys surrounded by majestic mountains, some of them snowcapped. The highest point was Punta Union, 4750 meters. Luckily I was already acclimatized! There were cows, horses and mules grazing free the pastures in the valleys. Several times I tried to approach the cows and beutiful little calves, but they always went away. We also saw several lagoons, one with a glacier behind it - maybe the last glacier I see on this trip. Every night there was a small river with cold water where I'd dip myself into to wash away the sweat, dirt and sunscreen - and maybe also to show that I'm a tough girl from Finland. The weather was perfect: beautiful sunshine every day. Only the nights were a bit too cold: the first two nights the temperature dropped below zero and there was some frost. Drinking bottles filled with hot water that I put in my sleeping bag helped a bit (great idea, I'll start doing that in Finland, too!), but it was still difficult to sleep.A view on the way back by minibus from the mountains to Huaraz:
Back in the busy city of Huaraz:

I recently read that a bus with 60 passengers had been robbed in Lima. I normally avoid travelling at night time, although not so much for the safety, but to see the landscapes. From Huaraz I took a night bus to Trujillo, and was definitely safe with Movil Tours. Our passports were checked before entering the bus, there was a security guy with a metal detector at the entrance, and when everyone was sitting in the bus, we were videofilmed. At a police control point the bus stopped and the ID cards of the Peruvian passengers were collected for a check-up. Later I read in Movil Tours' brochure that they also have a satellite tracking of the buses and they do alcohol tests to the drivers every day. Some other bus companies take the fingerprints of their passengers.

I travelled to Trujillo in order to visit the nearby seaside village of Huanchaco. The day was cloudy and grey, as if reflecting my sad feelings after having to leave Huaraz after such a wonderful time spent there. I spent my day in Huanchaco walking on the beach observing the big waves break, crabs hide in the sand and surf school students practise near the shore.

Mountains and ruins

One by one my travel mates catch some nasty microscopic creatures in their stomach and get sick. First Andres had so tremendous stomach ache he could hardly walk, and I left him in Cochabamba as I "had to" continue my journey. (We were anyways planning to only take a bus to La Paz together and then go our own ways.) Later I heard the reason for his suffering: intestinal inflammation caused by amoebas.


Then I met my Couchsurfing friend Kati in Cusco for going together to Machu Picchu, and luckily could stay with the same Couchsurfing host, Daniel, a circus artist, in his nice flat with great views over the city.

There are several ways to get to Machu Picchu: taking a hiking tour with a guide on some of the Inka trails, a train (which is fast but expensive) or travelling the whole day by several local buses and walking two hours at the end. Kati and I were planning to do the latter on Monday, but Sunday night Kati had fever and in the morning a diarrhea. The reason was found in lab tests: parasites! She got antibiotics and we decided to start our trip the following morning. Unfortunately the medicine didn't work so quickly and an early departure wasn't possible. But Kati was such a brave girl that at noon she was ready to leave even though she wasn't completely well. We took minibuses through Urubamba to Ollantaytambo, admiring the beautiful views of the Sacred Valley of the Inkas on the way. From Ollantaytambo we had decided to continue by train, but had to wait until the following morning. Kati stayed resting in our hostel room while I had a pleasant walk to the next village. Deep down I'm a real country girl and enjoyed seeing animals grazing and people working on the fields. It felt so good to escape the tourist crowds, too.

The next morning we arrived in Aguas Calientes, the Machu Picchu village close to the mountains with the ruins. I wanted to walk up, while Kati would take the bus. (Later I found out she had been too sick to leave the hostel room. Her turn came the next day when she was slightly better.) After 1,5 hours of climbing up the path consisting of stone steps I arrived to the entrance, all sweaty and short of breath. While travelling to the village I had been thinking that the pile of stones had better be worth all that effort and money I wasted getting there. Well... it sure was! Just the surrounding lush green mountains alone would have been worth it. And yes, the ruins were impressive. A friend of mine, who's travelled in Peru for 9 months, told me Machu Picchu is not the best place. So I wonder how amazingly impressive the best ruins in Peru are... But I don't have time to find out. Machu Picchu was easily accessible and anyway it's one of the new seven wonders of the world.


Travelling with other people can be complicated. Kati is a very nice girl, pleasant company and I sure enjoyed our chats. But sometimes I couldn't help getting frustrated with all the waiting and delays. I was energetic and wanted to do things and she, naturally, needed a lot of rest and had to go to the doctor. I felt selfish about being so restless and thinking about losing days when she definitely hadn't chosen it herself to get sick. Kati, in turn, felt bad that my schedule got messed up because of her sickness.

But there was something excellent about spending more time than intended: we were in town during 'Fiesta de la Virgen del Carmen', so I could see a real South American carneval. There were groups playing music with flutes and drums and dancing in excuisite costumes.


There are thousands of visitors at Machu Picchu every day and Aguas Calientes was nothing but a tourist town. Hotels & hostels, restaurants, massage, souvenirs... "Excuse me, miss..." people were harrassing with menus and leaflets. After seeing Machu Picchu I just wanted to get out of the place. And this time I wanted to take the long way. Not only for the money, but also for the scenery. Kati was still sick so she took the train. The first two hours I walked a path following a railway line, a river on my left side and a tropical forest on my right, with mountains on both sides. I liked the surroundings so much that I almost wanted to stay there.
I decided to walk the next part, too, a road to Santa Teresa. I can't describe, and just barely remember, the feeling of freedom I had walking there alone in the middle of big mountains and by a fast-flowing river. Arriving in the village of Santa Teresa I was greeted by a rooster crossing the road. It's exotic, although there's nothing new in seeing animals on the road here. During a recent busride I first saw a dog, then a donkey crossing the road, a bull pulling its tether and lastly a few goats. The next sight that caught my interest in the village was slaughtering of a bull. I didn't see the killing, but I observed and photographed cutting the meat and rinsing the intestines.

From Santa Teresa I took a shared taxi to the next village, Santa Maria. The scenery along the way was stunning: the canyon seemed as deep as the Colca canyon, but the mountains had more vegetation. In Santa Maria I changed to a minibus going all the way to Cusco. We were supposed to arrive around 9.30 pm but there was a surprise in the mountains: snow! The line of vehicles moved slowly and stopped every now and then, causing us a delay of two hours.

From Cusco I took a bus to Lima; 20 hours of watching beautiful mountain landscapes and sleeping. I had been warned that Lima is grey and ugly. That was true; two hours in the city this morning was enough for me. Even though I wanted to escape the bad climate and smog, on the way to my next bus I asked the taxi driver to make a short tour in the centre. I saw many beautiful old buildings - It is for a reason that Lima is a Unesco-listed city.

Tonight I arrived in Huaraz, in the Cordillera Blanca, with a plan to continue to Caraz and do some day-trips on my own. But I let a tour operator, who had come to meet prospective customers at the bus station, talk a bit too long to me and finally got convinced to take a 3-day hiking trip. I didn't really want to follow a guide, nor be in a group after being in the middle a "cat-fight" of the German and the Israeli girl in the Bolivian jungle... But I do want some excersice and nice views, so I hope I won't regret.

From Bolivia to Peru

I have an amazing ability to torture myself: I returned from Rurrenabaque by bus (ref. an earlier blog update). Back in La Paz I felt weak due to the altitude, but saved the day by going to the movies in the evening to see 'Sex and the City 2'. I couldn't have waited until I'm back in Finland, and it was good to escape the Bolivian reality for two hours. The next day I visited the Coca Museum, walked around the city and spent several hours on the computer updating my blog, downloading photos, buying a flight ticket...

My next stop was the enormous lake Titicaca, one of the highest navigable lakes in the world and the largest in South America. The town of Copacabana was too touristy to my taste, but I really enjoyed my excursion to the island of Isla del Sol: seeing the Inca ruins, dipping into the lake at an empty beach, walking through the island and enjoying my breakfast with an amazing view to the lake.

From Copacabana I travelled straight to Arequipa, Peru. I had a very nice guy sitting next to me, and we were chatting the whole way - a good practice for my Spanish. Just before arriving I got something to add to my stories about busrides: we had a flat tire.

The next morning I headed for Colca, a canyon twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. On the way I met an American guy and two girls from the Czech Republic. We teamed up and decided to get up at 5 am the following morning in order to get an early start for our hike into the canyon. As much as I hate getting up early, it was a good decision, as we could do the zig-zag path along the steep mountain side down to the river at the bottom of the canyon before the sun hit us. It was a descent of about 1000 meters. Then it was a sweaty hike up to the village of Talca, where we had lunch (alpaca, rice and tomatoes at a very basic restaurant) and a siesta. People live at weird places: the only transport to and from the village is by mules via the 4-hour mountain trail. Despite the amazing landscapes I might not be able to live there... In the afternoon we walked down to Oasis, a place offering dinner and accomodation in basic bungalows. The following morning the Czech girls walked up to Cabanaconde to return to Arequipa, whereas William, the American, had decided to continue to a waterfall about 5 hours away. I felt like having a bit more excercise - to my surprise my knees were ok after the long hike down to the canyon - so I stayed with Will. Unfortunately we got lost twice that morning. The path we had been following - a narrow path and partly a bit scary due to the altitude and the steep drop down - suddendly ended into a land of bush and cacti. We had to climb up the hill to see another path - this time obviously the correct one. But we had lost a lot of time and I was so tired that I decided to forget about the waterfall and just head back to Cabanaconde. I was planning to have lunch in the village of Paclla on the way. But there are only four old people living in the village and the señora who has a small shop and cooks for hikers wasn't home. The old man I met advised me to continue to the next village of Llahuar - which proved out to be just two houses offering accomodation. On the way there I suddenly saw a snake on the path. "Oh, fuck!" slipped out of my mouth as I stepped back. I'm really afraid of snakes, but as the snake wasn't moving, I managed to keep calm and take photos of it. But it did scare me out; I started to think how dangerous it was to walk alone in those mountains. In the next village the people told me that the snake wasn't poisonous. And later in Arequipa I was also told that a snake symbolises 'Pachamama', Mother Earth, so it was a lucky sign and I would now have the wisdom of the earth. Anyways, after getting lost and seeing the snake I just wanted to get out of the damn valley, no matter how peaceful and beutiful it was. After having a good lunch in Llahuar I felt much better. Even though the hostel owner tried to convince me to stay the night, enjoy the swimming pool and walk back to Cabanaconde early in the morning, I decided to go. But it meant that I had to walk the last two hours in the dark. Luckily I had my headlamp and the trail was wide. I've never been so happy to see animal dung - seeing mule poo on the trail always proved I was on the correct trail. I was tired after about 12 hours of walking, but just kept going. Finally, a little before 8 pm I arrived in Cabanaconde. It felt a bit like going to the Middle Ages. (Although there was electricity and street lamps.) Adobe houses, donkeys, women wearing scarves on their shoulders, a massive old church next to the central square...

Now I'm in Cusco where I met again my friend Kati, who hosted me in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Tomorrow we'll start our trip to Machu Picchu.

In the jungle, the mighty jungle...

Green mountains slowly change to flatter forest land as we travel in a small wooden motorboat upstream of Beni river. We're going for a 3-day excursion from Rurrenabaque to the jungle in the Madidi national park. By 'we' I refer to our group: a German girl called Laura, three people from Israel and me.

After two hours on the boat and a ten-minute walk we arrive at the camp: an area cleared of undergrowth, with some trees left to give shadow, basic wooden huts for sleeping and a bigger kitchen building. We introduce ourselves to our guide Juda, a 31-year-old biologist and a son of a Bolivian shaman.

We have lunch and then start our first walk in the surrounding jungle. There is a lot of vegetation, but it's not impenetrable. After ten minutes I wouldn't find my way back and I'm wondering if our guide knows every square meter of the forest. I guess for some Bolivian people the forests near my childhood home would look all the same, whereas there I can find my way out easily. Juda, the guide, cuts a palm leaf and skillfully plaits a carry bag for the water bottle of Asaf, an Israeli guy. He also finds a special tree, grates some of its bark with his machete and lets us taste natural antimalarial medicine, quinine. The first animals we see - and hear and smell - are wild pigs, dozens of them, running away fast when they notice us.

On the second day, after a good sleep at the jungle camp and a good breakfast prepared by the cook, we go for our second walk in the forest. Juda shows us 'arbol de leche', the "milk tree", and makes a small cut on its trunk. The white liquid that leaks from the cut is a remedy for bites of poisonous spiders and snakes. Otherwise you might die in an hour after a bite, but drinking 200 ml of this "milk" gives you 3-4 days time to get to the doctor. We ask if Juda has ever needed this medicine, and he shows small scars on his thumb: a cobra has once bitten him when he was doing research in the Peruvian jungle. Another tree that Juda shows us that day has roots containing clear jelly that can be used like aloe vera. We apply it on our numerous mosquito bites. Absolutely the coolest thing we do during that walk is swinging on a liana!

After lunch and a rest we leave for our second walk of the day, with a plan to stay in the forest until dark. The only animals we manage to spot are spiders and a nocturnal monkey up in a tree, only its eyes glowing in the beam of the flashlight.

That night, like the previous one, we go to the beach by the river. This time I have my bikini and towel with me. I trust Juda's word that it is safe to go into the water and enjoy my swim in the moonlight.

On the third day we only have time for one walk. Somewhere in the forest Juda picks up a small coconut, cuts it in half and takes out a thick, white catepillar. "You eat these?" somebody asks. "Yes." I take the live little creature in my hand and after confirming that I won't die I take a bite. Creamy, brownish liquid, like thick hot chocolate, bursts out. It has a mild taste of a nut. The next one I put in my mouth as a whole. Back at the camp an Israeli girl asks Juda: "How can you eat catepillars?" I guess it is not kosher for the Jews. Convincingly, almost annoyed the guide replies: "That food is natural. Everything that the people of the jungle eat is 100 percent natural. How can you eat at McDonald's?"

During our walks in the jungle Juda also shows us different kinds of ants: small ones that you can mix with water for an energy drink, fire ants whose bite causes you 24 hours of burning pain and ants that you can use for sewing cuts on your skin. On one of the walks Juda cuts a branch of a tree and we drink the water leaking inside of it.

And finally, on the last walk it happens: Juda notices something on the ground and runs after it - a cobra! He waves to us to get closer and we start taking photos of the yellow, 2-meter-long snake that has slithered to a tree.

(A few more photos can be found on my Facebook profile.)

What if this bus falls down into the gorge..?!

Near La Paz, there is a mountain road advertised as "the most dangerous road in the world". I refuse to do a mountain bike tour on that "death road", because I don't like scary things and I'm also annoyed by the commercialism, as if every traveller should do it! But later I realise I end up doing something more scary.

I decide to travel to Rurrenabaque, a small, relaxed town about 400 km from La Paz, in order to visit Madidi national park. In the morning I take a taxi to the street outside the center where the northbound buses leave. When I see the bus with big double tires I figure it might be a rough ride. I have no idea! Rough is a mild expression for the scariest road I've ever travelled. The first three hours to Coroico the road is paved and has barriers. The views to the green mountains and valleys are breathtaking. And finally I can hear some Bolivian music in the bus instead of watching American movies.

After Coroico the road is not flat and safe like I had assumed, but a narrow gravel road along the mountain sides. Of course without any barriers! I can't help thinking about what would happen if the driver made a small mistake and the bus would fall into the gorge. I sit upstairs in the first row with the best - but also the scariest - view. There are no seatbelts. My hands are sweating and sometimes I grab my hair out of fear when we go to a curve. Somewhere on the way the bus stops. The engine starts, but doesn't stay running. In about an hour the driver fixes the motor and we can continue. After that I have a bit more confidence in his driving skills, too.

At 6 pm we stop in a small town for dinner. I go to a restaurant with a Portuguese guy, the only foreigner in the bus in addition to me. A soup and the main course of meat, rice and salad cost only 10 bolivianos (1.20 EUR).

The journey continues in the dark and it feels quite absurd to be there, travelling on the bumpy and winding road, seeing banana trees and other tropical vegetation on the side of the road and listening to the music played in the bus - technopop from my teenage years! "Bum digi digi digi bum digi bum, think about the way how we live today..." (This piece of lyrics actually contains an important message.) Another interesting thing in the bus is the smell. The only air-conditioning is the wind from the few open windows. Everybody is sweating and I can only guess how uncomfortable the local women must feel in their wide dresses.

When we stop at a police control point and have to get out of the bus, I swear to the Portuguese guy: "I'm sooooo going to fly back!" The bus costs 60 Bs. (7 EUR), whereas a flight is almost ten times more, 480 Bs. (60 EUR). Later in Rurrenabaque I hear that the last accident happened two years ago. Counting the amount of buses, something around 2000 busrides per year on that road, I come to the conclusion it isn't so dangerous after all. Back home I've had two accidents with a deer and a moose on the road. Several people die in Finland every year in such accidents. But there you don't feel the danger...

At 7:40 am, after travelling the whole day and night, almost 20 hours (a distance of only 400 km!) I finally arrive in Rurrenabaque. I get my dusty backpack from the trunk of the bus and get a ride to my hostel at the back of the hostel owner's motorcycle. I'm exhausted, but happy to be alive and immediately like the laid-back tropical town where everyone moves around with a motorbike (without helmets, of course!) and chickens roam freely in the gardens.

Celebrating New Year

For the Aymara people of the Central Andes - one of the biggest indigenous groups of Bolivia - the southern hemisphere's winter solstice is the start of the new agricultural cycle. It is a day of traditions and festivities. Near Cochabamba it is celebrated at the Inka-Rakay ruins on a mountain where people gather the night before 21 June to wait for the key moment, the sunrise. As I happened to be in the area, I wanted to seize the opportunity and headed there with my friend Kati.


Right after arriving, at 8 pm, staying up all night waiting for the sunrise felt like such a long time. But after walking around and admiring the citylights in the Cochabamba valley we almost forgot about the time when we sat around the bonfire of some highschool-aged boys, drank singani (the national spirit distilled from grapes) and chew coca leaves. It is very common to see local people stuffing dried coca leaves in their mouth or see their cheek bulging with the ball of coca. In the highlands of Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador and Columbia the cultivation and consumption of coca is as much a part of the national culture as wine is to France. (Later in La Paz when I visited the Coca Museum I learned that according to Carter and Mamani's study 92 % of men and 89 % of women chew coca in rural areas of Bolivia.) Coca is used as a stimulant to overcome fatigue, hunger, and thirst. It is considered particularly effective against altitude sickness. And please note that chewing coca is something totally different from using cocaine. For me it was the first time I tried coca. It felt and tasted a bit weard - like putting leaves of the birch whisk used in sauna in my mouth. And I'm not sure if I really felt any of the effects... The next morning my cheek was slightly numb; I could still feel the ball of coca there.


I talked with a highshool student sitting next to me and found out that he's been working since he was 7 years old. He works in the morning and goes to school in the afternoon. He had started by washing trufis (shared taxis) and earned 3 bolivianos per vehicle. Washing 10 per day constituted him a wage of 30 Bs./day (3.50 EUR) . Nowadays he is selling and fixing mobile phones. Here in Bolivia it is not rear to see children working. In Potosí many are working in the mines. In all big cities children, and adults as well, go from table to table in restaurants trying to sell chewing gum, chocolate and cigarettes. I've also seen boys offering shoeshine services. Luckily I haven't stumbled upon child prostitution, but according to Wikipedia it is a serious problem in Bolivia.


While waiting for the big moment, the sunrise, we could enjoy performances of a group playing traditional music with flutes and a drum. And finally it happened: the round, shiny thing came in sight behind the mountains on the horizon. Suddenly there was so much more light. I must say it was a magical moment. The music performances started again and lasted for the whole morning.


Back in Cochabamba - no, I didn't go to sleep - I had a shower, packed my backpack and took a bus to La Paz. My travel mate Andrés had a severe stomach ache and stayed with his brother - whom he hadn't seen for ten years.

Voluntary work and fiestas in Cochabamba

After visiting a fern forest in Amboro national park and a pre-inca religious site El Fuerte near Samaipata, and meeting up again with Isabel and Johan (the Dutch/Belgian couple I've mentioned earlier), Andres and I went to Santa Cruz. The city itself didn't have much to offer for tourists, only expensive restaurants and a few nice buildings around the central square. After the small, relaxing village of Samaipata, the big, rich and busy Santa Cruz didn't appeal to us, so the following morning we took a bus to Cochabamba. On the way we saw some rudimentary dwellings and women doing laundry at rivers.

Now we are visiting a Finnish girl called Kati, whom I know from Tampere Couchsurfing group. She's been doing voluntary work here in Cochabamba for a few months. I visited the office of her employer, Cedesol (http://www.cedesol.org), an association making solar kitchens and also went twice with her to an orphanage to play with children aged 1-8 years. This weekend there's a music festival 'Fiesta de la Musica' in the city and we've gone to some free concerts. So now I, a girl from the land of heavy metal music, have seen a latino band playing heavy metal. Tonight we'll travel to a nearby mountain to participate in celebrations of Aymara (=an indigenous group) New Year.

A lot of travellers experience stomach problems in Bolivia. According to Kati's empiric studies 50 percent of foreigners get amoebas; she's had them once. Luckily I haven't had anything serious so far.

A woman with short hair is a rear sight in South America. Some girls at the orphanage were asking me why I've cut my hair and if I'm a woman and have breasts and vagina. My travel mate Andres is also saying all the time that I don't have hair.