Fraser Island

Well, I didn't get eaten by dingoes. The dingoes, however, did nearly get our dinner. There are hefty fines if you get caught feeding dingoes, or disturbing them in anyway. If they approach you, you are told to cross your arms in front of your chest and back away slowly. But what should you do if the dingo wants to take your dinner? Do you chase the dingo off, and risk a fine for disturbing her? Or do you let the dingo have your dinner, and risk a fine for feeding her? Fortunately, it didn't end up being a decision we had to make, but nevertheless, our training videos didn't cover this.

My trip was suppoed to leave from Hervey Bay on Saturday, but I arrive Thursday night to the surprise that my trip had been moved forward to Friday, as there were only three people booked on the Saturday trip and three on the Thursday trip so they combined them together. Unlike in Noosa, I was with a great group of people: an Austrian couple, Anni and Christian, two Polish sisters, Anna and Beata, and an English girl, Cassie.
We made our way to pick up our 11-person 4x4 jeep on Friday morning, and loaded up our food, tents, and the rest of our gear on the roof before heading off to the ferry over to Fraser. Christian and Anni did most of the driving, except for one brief period when they sillily let me drive. Did I mention that I don't really drive standard? And that everything is on the wrong side? And that the gears kept on slipping? Everyone was very patient... though holding on for dear life!
Fraser Island was beautiful, but I don't think we enjoyed it as much as the hype said we would. Mostly, because it was very windy, mostly overcast, and drizzled. So when we got to Lake McKenzie, the crystal clear blue water of the postcards was kind of a misty blue-gray, and rather cold. We were lucky with Indian Head, which was clear when we were there, as were the Champagne Pools, but we got rained out on the beach our first night, and had to use the jeep as a wind break. We made it to see everything on our itinerary, and had a little off-road adventure on the way to Lake Wabby, a fresh water lake that is slowly being eaten by a giant sand dune.

Fraser Island

Byron to Noosa

Byron Bay is the surf town to end all surf towns, pure and simple. It's basically one main street where every other storefront sells surfboards or surf clothes or the surf lifestyle. There are pretty much beaches on all sides. And since Byron revolves around surfing, I figured I should give it a go. And so I did. For three straight days I struggled into a damp wetsuit, a rashguard, and picked up my 7-foot long foam surfboard. I had a great time. And also, I suck at surfing. I think it is safe to say that I shouldn't give up my day job to devote my life to surfing, though maybe if I did I would eventually not suck quite so much. I can't get over, though, how absolutely fun it was, easily some of the best fun I've had so far. I can't really explain what it is that appeals to me--it's not just being outside on the beach, listening to the surf crash. Somehow it's trying to find that wave that's going to carry you and the thrill of it actually working, even if only briefly before you somersault backwards off your board and get a mouthful of saltwater.

The hostel I stayed in was, unfortunately, both gungy and sketchy, but I lucked with a group of Canadians in my room, one from S. Ont., and two from Prince Rupert. We ended up going out and, like all good backpackers, danced on the tables at Cheeky Monkeys--it's seems it's one of those "must do" kinda things.

From Byron I made my way up to the Gold Coast to spend the weekend with my cousin Rupert and his family. It was great to see them all, as well as to finally meet Shannon and Wil. I also had the treat of sleeping in a real bed in a room without half a dozen strangers snoring, and tossing about. Pure bliss!

Leaving the "Goldie" I took the bus up further to Noosa Heads, which, I will confess, is nothing special. The town is a very expensive seaside resort with a halfway pretty beach and lots of overpriced shops. I only really spent an afternoon there, as my main stop was in the Great Sandy National Park and the Gagaju Bush Camp, where I was signed up to do a "canoe safari" along the Noosa river. Overall it was nice, but I hesitate to use any stronger an adjective. Mostly, I think it was the people in the same group as me, a bunch of very loud Brits who were mostly rude and intolerant, and I had nothing in common with them. I think I was the only person in the group who'd ever actually been in a canoe before or who had any idea how to paddle, though it's not something I'd ever claim to be particularly good at. But still, I managed to keep my canoe of two whiny girls from Birmingham on course. It also b0thered me that the only "instruction" given to a bunch of people who'd never been in canoes before consisted of a 3 1/2 minute demonstration on how to paddle, then we were sent off by ourselves. One canoe full of girls was totally clueless, and while I tried to give them a few pointers, it should have been the camp that did that.

From there, northwards! Hervey Bay! Fraser Island!

Back to Oz

Flew back to Oz last Thursday at an ungodly hour of the morning. Well, the flight left at a reasonable hour, but I had to be at the airport for 7. Ugh.
Since I'd been in NZ, I hadn't had credit on my cellphone (rather, Jen's old cellphone that she loaned me for my trip), so first thing after I got through Customs, Immigration, and Quarantine (I was disappointed they didn't scan me for swine flu!) I reloaded my credit. And no sooner had I done so than the phone rang; it was my mother. Since she can normally call me whenever she wants, it's been a little hard for her to have me out of reach by phone. So I spent my first hour back in Sydney sitting on a luggage cart talking to my mum. It's amazing what a difference cellphones make to travelling these days.

I spent the weekend with Jen, sleeping on her super comfy sofa, hanging out, and eating too much. Jen and her roommate, Lachy, had a work "do" (aka drinkfest) on the Friday, so I took it easy and started getting over my dislike of going to the movies by myself. I went to see The Proposal -- a typical rom-com, but a good way to spend a couple of hours in the afternoon.
I also, after much indecisiveness, booked my travels up the East Coast. The plan looks like this:
July 13-17, Byron Bay -- learn to surf
July 17-20, with Rupert, Shannon, & co
July 20-23, Noosa Heads, Canoe trip
July 23-24, Hervey Bay
July 25-27, Fraser Island, 4x4 trip
July 28-30, Airlie Beach
July 30-Aug 1, Whitsunday Islands, sailing aboard the British Defender
Aug 2-6, Mission Beach, sitting on the beach
Aug 6-7, Cairns
Aug 7-9, Scuba diving from a boat, Advanced PADI course
Aug 10, Cairns
Aug 11-13, Cape Tribulation, the Daintree
Aug 13-14, Port Douglas
Aug 14-18, Cairns
Aug 18, Fly backto Gold Coast
Aug 18-28, get back to Sydney
Aug 29, Canada!

North Island

Have fallen behind! I'll have to add a little more, but for the moment, here are pictures :)

New Zealand, North Island

South Island Pictures

New Zealand, the South Island

Queenstown to Wanaka, and beyond!

Queenstown is best compared to Banff. Seriously, only with no snow on the streets. The entire town seems to be made up of ski shops and bars. It is also the home of bungy jumping -- something which I have never had any desire to try. I'd rather go skydiving. Don't ask me why, but jumping out of a plane with a parachute makes more logical sense than jumping off a bridge with a piece of elastic tied to my legs. So instead, having a day to spend, I went on a horse trek in Glenorchy, about 40 minutes away from Qtn. Being the total nerd that I am, I did the Ride of the Rings, which goes around Paradise station to various locations from LOTR (and, more recently, Prince Caspian and Wolverine). Janet, whom I'd met in Te Anau, happened to be in Queenstown at the same time, and even at the staying at the same hostel, so we went for dinner the night we arrived (by different buses). She did go bungyjumping while I was trotting around, and loved it.

I left the morning the Winter Festival was starting in Queenstown, which I was sad to miss, but as I hadn't really planned ahead, there were no beds left to be had, so I hopped the bus to Wanaka with hopes of going skydiving. Unfortunately, the ceiling was about 1000ft, so they weren't going up at all. On the plus side, I saved a little money. Wanaka is supposed to be a really fun town, but I have to admit that I didn't really take advantage of it. Instead, having been upgraded to a 4-bed, bunk-free, ensuite room with cable which I had all to myself, I did my laundry (I'd run out of underwear), and bought a pair of wool socks. (Strangely, my packing for this trip seems to have fallen short only in the matter of socks.) Wanaka also has a fun little movie theatre which is a converted barn and all the seats are sofas and comfy chairs, so, on impulse, I went to see Wolverine (and a mostly naked Hugh Jackman!).

From Wanaka, it was most of a day on the bus to Franz Josef glacier, one of only about three temperate glaciers in the world. I didn't arrive until late afternoon, but booked myself on a day-long glacier hike for the following morning. The tour outfit provides all the gear you'll need, from rain jackets to boots to crampons. This is easily one of the highlights of my trip so far. Because it was a full day we got much farther up on the ice than the half-day hikes, and into the clean blue ice areas. We also lucked out in having a sunny day, so the temperature was really quite mild on the glacier: the guides were all wearing shorts. The glacier comes down the valley surrounded by waterfalls and temperate rainforest, with keas flying overhead. It was spectacular. I can't really over much more at this point -- you'll have to see the pictures (as soon as I can upload them).

From Franz, I took a gruelling 10 hour bus to Nelson, at the northern edge of the South Island. Nelson's a pretty town, though nothing too special. I spent two nights, and wandered around during my free day there. I had hoped to go to Abel Tasman Nat'l park, but I arrived too late to book it, and, quite frankly, it was good for my budget to have a cheaper day.

Kiwi-Land continues!

Well, shortly after my last post (the next day, as a matter of fact) Jeff and I went our separate ways once we reached Dunedin. I was fighting a cold, and not feeling my best, and he seemed to want to do what he wanted. So no hard feelings were felt, and we even went out to a pub that night and watched the All Blacks vs. France--in an Irish pub, of course. I'm starting to wonder why it is that Irish pubs are so universally popular and why, no matter where you are in the world, they all seem pretty identical: everything from the names, to the music, to the decor, to the Guinness paraphernalia. And never having been to Ireland, I can't compare them to the "original" but I imagine they're more of an idea, an imitation of what people think an Irish pub should be.

Any-hoo, back on topic: I stayed two nights in Dunedin, though the one full day I had there I spent most of the morning in bed, nursing my rotten cold. I felt bad for my roomies, as I was sniffling and blowing my nose all night. I promised them it wasn't swine flu, though, so they were fairly understanding :) I then went to the centre of Dunedin, the square that is called--wait for it--The Octagon. Because it is, in fact, octagonal (yes, I counted). The art gallery was free, so I went in for an hour or so, and I have to say, it was certainly worth the visit. On the main floor, they had a selection of 18th- and 19th- century European art and an exhibit of France Hodgkins, a 20th-century Kiwi artist. But the second floor had a selection of exhibits ranging from Russian icons to avant-garde Russian art to Iranian photography. It was a really neat selection, and small enough not to be overwhelming. Leaving the art gallery (and having had a cup of coffee--vital) I started walking towards Baldwin St., the "steepest street in the world." My map of the city didn't show it, just an arrow at the edge of the map saying, "This Way." So I started walking, and after nearly an hour I reached the edge of the map, and found another sign saying "Baldwin St., 1750m." As it was already 4 o'clock, I figured by the time I got there it would be nearly dark, so I turned around and went back. But as least I got a walk!

That was Sunday, so Monday I bought my bus pass and headed out to Te Anau, in Fiordland. But before my bus left in the afternoon, I did manage to squeeze in a visit and tour of the Cadbury's chocolate factory in Dunedin. Considering how expensive chocolate is here, and how good the prices were in the factory store, I was exceedingly restrained with my purchases -- and I still have most of it left! Shocking, I know. :)

Te Anau (rhymes with "Keanu") is a lovely little town on south end of Lake Te Anau, and the capital (if it can be termed such) of Fiordland, which includes most of the SW portion of the South Island. I took a cruise from Te Anau to Doubtful Sound, going by tender across Lake Manapouri, then by bus over the Wilmott pass, and down into Deep Cove and out into the Sound. According to the tourist postings, the Sound was named because Cap'n Cook was "doubtful" that if he sailed in he'd ever be able to sail out again. Not very original. The sea was calm enough that we were actually able to make it out the mouth of the sound, and we got to see NZ fur seals basking in the sun, and a couple of Buller's Mollymawks (the albatross's smaller cousin) chasing our boat in the hopes of scraps.

Also in Te Anau I met Janet, a firefighter from the 'Peg, who's travelling around NZ following the All Blacks. We had some great chats, and we both happened to be heading to Queenstown the next day and were staying in the same hostel there, too, so we ended up having wedges, pizza, and beer for dinner -- delish!

Photos!

New Zealand, the South Island

Kiwi-land!

Landed in Christchurch the evening of June 16th, to about 5°C and a cold rain. Hurray summer! :) I ran into a little problem at the Melbourne airport, in that I had only bought a one-way ticket to NZ. And they didn't want me to stay. Or at least, in order to be eligible for a tourist visa, you apparently need proof that you're not going to stay, hiding among the flocks of sheep, or herds of deer, cows, and alpacas.
So luckily I was in plenty of time to check-in, and had to buy my return flight at the counter (as things stand, Auckland-Sydney on July 9, though this may well change). I thought I was going to get stung, but managed to get a cheap fair. I can change it, but I'm going to try to avoid it if possible. I'm too cheap. But July 9 gives me nearly 4 weeks, which, while not plenty, gives me a chance to see a fair bit.

Coincidentally, I met another Canadian, Jeff, at the hostel I was staying at in Christchurch. He had recently bought a camper van, and was looking for someone to share gas costs with, so I've hopped in with him for a week or so. We left Christchurch heading southish, and ended up in Methven (pop. 1300), near Mt. Hutt, one of the ski fields with the longest season in NZ. Jeff spent a day snowboarding and I, I met another friendly traveller, Lindsay (most recently of Truckee, CA), who I spend a day wandering around with. Lindsay has a job in Methven for the season, but had just arrived, so had a couple of days. We took a three hour walking trail around the town, and met one of the locals, Vincent, who was walking his dog, Benson. (His accent was quite strong for a Kiwi, and Lindsay and I were both unsure as to whether the dog's name was also "Vincent". We decided it was "Benson" but we weren't completely sure.) He took great delight in talking about his dog, and gave us a bit of local Methven gossip, which I dare not repeat.
We left Methven this morning, driving south along the coast through Timaru to Oamaru. I'm spending the night in a hostel as I've been cold all day, but Jeff is sleeping in the van tonight. We drove to the shore to see penguins (see earlier post!), as there are two species nesting on the coast: little blue and yellow eyed. They were charging $20 to see the little blue penguins, but it was free to see the yellow eyed ones--as long as you stood at the top of the cliff. Which we did, in the cold onshore breeze, and spotted two penguins in the distance. That's a 100% improvement since my last attempt at penguin spotting!

(Oh, and the hostel I'm staying at has a pet axolotl named "Axel"!)

Melbourne

Well, I've been nearly a week and a half in Melbourne. Taking it easy, wandering around the city -- it's a great city for that kind of thing. I met a few great people in the hostel, including Kim, another Canadian from BC, and Katy, a recently graduated nurse from Portland. The night I checked in, Kim and I went out with a friend of hers, Dan, who had worked a ski season in Canadia, and some of his friends. As the following day was a holiday, no one was in any hurry to go home early, so they showed us around a few Melbourne bars (I don't remember the names, just that one was on a roof). We drank, we danced, we had a darn good time. Kim left the next morning for her new job at a resort (in the Grampians, I think), and Katy moved in. We decided to go to the Melbourne Aquarium (see pics), where they had the usual bizarre Australian sea creatures, and Antarctic penguins! I don't know what it is about penguins, but they seem to be my new favourite animal. Well, new favourite bird, at least. Though I hope to see the Southern Cassowary up in Cairns. But penguins are way cuter than cassowaries.
Katy and I also did a little shopping at the DFO--mid-winter sales at factory outlets, need I say more? For the rest of my time in Melbourne, I spent much of it wandering around, walking up Brunswick St., going to the Victoria Market, St. Kilda's, along the Yarra, and so on. On the Wednesday Dan (Kim's friend, see above)took me along the Great Ocean Road to the Twelve Apostles (currently only about eight are still with us), one of the most photographed spots in Victoria. We also stopped at Bels Beach, where Point Break (starring Keanu!) was filmed. Unfortunately, they didn't have any life size cutouts of Keanu to pose with. I was exceedingly disappointed. As you can imagine.

It doesn't sound like I did all that much in just over a week, but the time certainly went very quickly. On June 16th, I fly to Christchurch.

Tassie Two

The rest of Tassie went pretty quickly, seeing a lone penguin in Bicheno, some tassie devils, wallabies and roos at Nature World, and trying local cheeses at Pyengana. Getting back to Hobart of Friday night, I tried to have an early night, but had my rubber arm twisted by some of the friendly folks at the Pickled Frog, and so after a speedy game of chess--in which I seized defeat from the jaws of victory--we did a tour of some of the local Hobart attractions. I know I came home with a couple of entry stamps on my wrist, but that's about all I could tell you about where we went. There were a couple of Aussies, a couple of Kiwis, three other Canadians (one from the 'Peg and two from Guelph -- seriously!), and a couple of Belgians. Left on Saturday for Devonport, but not before hitting up the Salamanca market and having shark and chips for lunch.

From Devonport I took the Spirit of Tasmania ferry to Melbourne. It's about an eleven hour trip, and fortunately, quite calm. I did meet a very nice eighty-three year old Welshman named Con who has been travelling around by himself and was, I think quite lonely for company. We chatted a bit, and had dinner at the eatery on board. The next morning once we docked, he insisted that I share his cab into town (he was going right where I needed to go) and then met me up for lunch! He was good company, and as I said, I think he was rather lonely.

Am in Melbourne now, indefinitely, or until I figure out what I'm going to do in NZ, when I'm going to go, and how I'm going to get there. It's rather warmer here than it was in Tassie, but a little rainy. Am going to wander today, and possibly buy a new pair of jeans (mine are two steps from death). Then laundry tonight, and a movie? Only time will tell.

Tassie!

I'm halfway through my trip to Tasmania, Van Diemen's Land, home of the world's largest carniverous marsupial. What a claim to fame! Actually, it's quite lovely here, very different from the rest of Australia (at least, from that small part that I've seen so far). It's richly, lushly green here, and the weather is constantly changing from one minute to the next. I haven't seen any snow yet, but there has certainly been frost in the mornings. The daytime temps are hovering around 12-15 C, and about 5 at night. I keep reminding myself that this is winter -- though I'm sad that I'm missing patio season, the only part of the year when it is actually enjoyable to sit outside in Canada. I'm hoping the beaches of the north will make up for it!

I'm on a tour around Tassie at the moment, starting and ending from Hobart. We spent Monday and Tuesday nights in a tiny village called Tullah, and are tonight in Launceston. So far we've been to Mt. Field National Park, Doneghy's Hill, Lake St. Clair and Platypus Bay, Russell Falls, Montezuma Falls, Strahan, the Henty Dunes, and Cradle Mountain, as well as honey tasting in Chudleigh. Tomorrow we head over to the east coast and the Freycinet peninsula and Wineglass Bay, spend the night in Bicheno, then "home" to Hobart on Friday.

There are only three of us on the tour: myself and two German girls, Roumina and Eva (they didn't know each other before). We're having a good time, eating too much in the van!

Sydney and the Blue Mountains

As I write this I'm cosied up in the Blue Mountains YHA hostel in Katoomba. I've spend today on a tour (the first of many, no doubt) through the Blue Mountains National park, to Wentworth Falls, down the Furber steps, and then back up the world's steepest funicular (funny-colour!) railway. It's been up and down, down and up all day -- and given the rain, I've been particularly grateful for my new hiking boots (they're waterproof!). Though they don't look so new anymore, covered in mud as they are.

Up until today I was still bumming around Sydney. I was determined not to worry about what I'd do until I got here and then found myself overwhelmed by choices of things to do and ways to do them. Finally I just had to bite the bullet, and so started off small with this trip to the Blue Mountains. I'm back to Sydney tomorrow, just for the night, before flying out bright and surly Friday morning for Hobart. And once there, I'll figure out how to get to Devonport on the other side of the island so I can take the ferry back to Melbourne. Just because I want to take the boat.

Back in Sydney, I met another lone traveller, Danielle, who happened to be in my dorm, so we wandered around for a couple of days, keeping each other company to the Sydney Aquarium (the dugongs were disappointing, the platypus absurdly cute), and just wandering around the city. After doing so much of that alone, it was nice to have someone to talk with for a little.

The Blue Mountains get their name from the blue haze that hovers over them on sunny days as the eucalyptus oils that the tress let off react with the sunlight. Despite the rain, it was rather lovely, and Katoomba is a cute little town. I met up with two English guys on the tour who were also staying the night, so instead of eating alone, we all went down the pub (in true English style). The following day was sunny and bright, and having a day to wander around, I explored the High Street, which was pretty much that and not much else, watched the parrots in the trees for a while (I'm still not used to flocks of wild parrots flying around), then walked the Prince Henry Cliff Top trail, and actually got to see the Three Sisters, not just their shadowy outlines through the clouds and fog. I made it back to meet my bus back to Sydney just before the rain came back in, and back to Sydney to pack for Tassie tomorrow.

Blue Mountains

Sometime yesterday afternoon

Well, after a long--but surprisingly not too painful--flight, I arrived in Sydney Wednesday morning. I even made it through quarantine, customs, and immigration with very little hassle. Luckily, Jen was standing outside her apartment to meet me and my backpack, though she soon abandoned me to head back to work. I didn't mind: I had two things on my mind, a shower and a bed. Getting both those things (and in that order), I managed to sleep away most of the day, and most of the next night, too. So while I left Toronto on Monday, it took me more or less until Thursday to actually "arrive". I spent all day yesterday wandering around Sydney, browsing down George St., having lunch in Hyde Park. Spent the rainy afternoon in the Australian Museum, learning all about the various highly venomous animals that make their home on this continent. I plan to give them a wide berth!
Today I'm also wandering around Sydney (Jen doesn't have a spare key for her apartment), so I walked around the Opera House, through the Botanical Gardens, and the National Gallery (conveniently free in the rain!). I'll soon be wandering down Oxford St, which, like its namesake, is full of shops. I'm considering a meat pie for lunch. Or a sausage roll.

Iceland and the first Day of Summer

Arriving at the airport, I met—and met up with—Giselle, my travel buddy. Checking in, I've never had such a friendly airline employee: she was telling us all about Iceland, and her sister who lives out in Nova Scotia (I forget the relevance, or how that came up). Giselle changed her seat so we could sit together, and we lucked out having an empty seat between us, so we could spread out a little.
The flight from Toronto to Reykjavik is only 5 hours, which is almost civilized, but at the same time it means that the flight isn't quite long enough to get any sleep, especially as Giselle and I talked more than half the flight. Arriving in Reykjavik at the ungodly hour of 6.15 am, we stumbled through security a second time, immigration, and luggage claim, with a brief stop in duty free to pick up host gifts for Dan -- I learned that from Martha Stewart, though I don't know if she would have approved of a bottle of vodka.
Dan met us at the bus station, where Giselle and I gave into the temptation of greasy breakfast (you have to pay for your meal on Iceland air, the only down side), though I ordered Giselle bacon that she didn't want. We stumbled to Dan's, but had to sneak in so that his crazy landlady, Helga, wouldn't notice us. Dan even coached us on our cover story: we were just visiting for the day, but were sleeping at his friend Claire's.
We then went for a walk into Reykjavik proper, and Dan showed us around a little. After giving us a tour of the city (it isn't that big, as the whole population of Iceland is about 300,000), we sat for a while in one of the many little coffee shops, called (I think) "Tiú droppa" ("Ten drops" or something similar). A couple of Dan's friends were there studying, so we chatted with them for a while. In fact, each time we walked into a coffee shop, Dan knew at least two people. After a while, it seemed like he knew everyone in town.

Giselle and I had originally planned to push through without a nap in order to get over the jet lag, but by mid-afternoon decided we wouldn't make it, so we snuck back into Dan's and grabbed a quick nap. Even just being horizontal for half an hour was sheer bliss. After our nap, Dan actually introduced us to Claire, at whose apartment we were supposedly staying, and we went for yet another coffee. (We drank lots of coffee).
Friday was really quite cold, though the sun made up for it; Dan and I went swimming in the morning, at one of the many, many natrually heated (and sulfurous-smelling) outdoor pools. The water was pleasant, but getting out was not! Later on, and in between more bouts of coffee drinking, we wandered around Reykjavik some more, and saw the Viking ship sculpture (above).
Saturday, my last in Iceland, we got up bright and surly and went off to our car rental so we could do the Golden Circle, a trio of Icelandic sights including Thingvellir, Geysir, and Gullfoss. I got to drive since Giselle doesn't and Dan's licence had expired the week before. Luckily they drive on the right, so it wasn't too nervewracking, though the roundabouts were a little exciting! Iceland is absolutely beautiful, an amazingly harsh landscape that is breathtaking. I can't wait to go back.

¿Rendirme yo? ¡Qué se rinde su abuela, carajo!

The coolest spot south of Havana...

Copacabana, that is.

In that little town on the Bolivian end of Lake Titicaca, I have never seen so many hippie backpackers in one place. As Sonja and I boarded the lancha for the Isla del Sol, there were even a couple who attempted to trade their "musical fashionings" (on Playschool keyboard and tambourine) for their fare. Fortunately we could enjoy the spectacle from a distance as they were on a different boat.

The boat ride took about an hour and a half including the delay when the little 50hp outboard stalled because there was too much weight at the back of the boat. It took them a good 15 minutes to get it going again, and we putted along at about 5mph.


The Isla del Sol is one of a pair of islands in the Bolivian half of Lake Titicaca, the other being, of course, the isla de la luna. Isla del sol seems to be a main destination for backpackers, mostly due to the temple of the Sun and the Inca staircase. The island is still inhabited by the Aymara.

Coroico

We spent a couple of days at the Hotel Esmerelda in Coroico, a couple of hours by bus from La Paz. The road to get there used to be one of the most dangerous in the world, the "death road". Vehicles would slip over the edge on a regular basis, as the road was constantly being washed out by rains and landslids, and was only wide enough for one vehicle at a time for much of it. A couple of years ago now they finally completed the "new" road (which apparently took them over a decade to complete, again because of the landslides, etc.). So while it is much wider than the old road, and heavily reinforced, there are already major repairs underway in parts of it. The old road is now an adventure cycling destination, and you get a t-shirt that says "I survived the Death Road" -- a little tacky, if you ask me, considering all the people who didn't.

Sonja at the pool in Coroico
Sunset from a hammock
The vegetation

at 3600m

Well, today is my last day in La Paz, with plans to make it to la valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) and exploring the markets. Then packing everything up again for an early morning flight to Lima.

My time in Lima was extremely limited on the way here, as I landed at about 22:45, lined up through immigration, got my backpack, went to the hostel, slept, went back to the airport. The flight to La Paz is only about 2 hours, and Sonja met me at the LP airport.
Sonja took me around the city a little on Thursday, changed some money and things, then I napped at high altitude. The air doesn't feel any different here, but the lower oxygen levels certainly make a difference. Other than the odd headache and the inability to walk carrying a heavy bag, I don't feel like I've adapted too badly. And the coca mate helps. Seriously, that's what my doctor "prescribed". And carrying a bag wasn't too much of a problem, as Sonja acted as my sherpa :)

Friday morning we took a bus to Coroico, a sort of resort town about two hours from LP. Coroico is at about 1800m, so half as high as LP. It's also neat since it's cloud forest--that is, rain forest at altitude. So it doesn't get too hot, but is a lot warmer than La Paz, and it's a lot more humid too. Coroico is also at the end of the "Death Road" one of the world's most dangerous roads. It's a narrow track not wide enough for two cars to pass each other, prone to erosion and land slides. Fortunately for my parents, a new road (that took over a decade to build)was opened about two years ago, and the old road is now only really used by crazy extreme cyclists.
We stayed at a lovely little hotel with a pool (in a country where water is a major concern, pools are something of a rarity). Friday afternoon was nice and sunny, and we moved from lying by the pool to lying in hammocks, to lying in the sauna. It was really tough...
Saturday was cloudy/foggy/misty most of the day, so we alternated napping with the beginning of our own cribbage tournament. We were 2-2 by the end of the day. We slipped our way down the extremely muddy hill to go to a Mexican restaurant for dinner, accompanied by Paceña, the main Bolivian beer. The walk back up the muddy hill was also something of an adventure, since the municipality of Coroico is not very into streetlights. We took a minibus back to La Paz the next morning as it was still cloudy. I couldn't tell if it was raining or not--if you get wet in the middle of a rain cloud, does that count as rain?