People Watching

There is no other place on Earth that could be Las Vegas.  This is my first foray into the city, but it seems to truly be the place movies and television have taught me to expect.  It’s bright, busy and insane.  If you’re into people watching, you’re in luck.  There are young women dressed as showgirls walking around, taking phots with tourists.  About one in every thirty women was wearing sequins which is a pretty big change from my usual surroundings, and there were lots of people with too much cologne and too little spatial awareness.  We saw about a dozen street musicians out and about, a few vendors trying to sell some kind of photography service, and one very angry seeming young, bearded man on the street, shouting aggressively at strangers about forgiveness and Jesus’ love.  I can get behind the message, but the messenger was a bit confusing.  

It was all quite a lot.  Cas and I ducked into one place after another to see what there was to see.  We snagged selfies in front of the replica Statue of Liberty, the replica Eiffel Tower and the world famous Bellagio Fountains.  We had a nice dinner across the street from those fountains at a slightly oversized sidewalk cafe attached to the Paris Hotel and Casino.  It was perfect.  We had a bottle of wine and a very nice dinner while watching the fountain run through several “shows.”  It’s a whole lot bigger than you’d think if you’ve ever watched a movie with that amazing fountain in it.  The water shoots up from a very still pool- I would try to explain it, but the Internet makes it easier- the pool takes up 8.5 acres of space.  You really don’t get that from the film industry, no matter how large the movie screen is when you’re watching Oceans Eleven.  

Somewhere along the path, we made a quick aside in honor of one of my cousins.  I have thirteen first cousins, and to my knowledge, the only one who got married in Las Vegas was my cousin Kristine.  She was married so soon after high school that I suspect her prom photos could have doubled as her engagement photos.  We swung past the scene of the crime.  There are two chapels I could locate at the Flamingo Casino, and certainly, one of them has to have hosted Kris and her then-sweetheart in the mid ‘90s.  We took photos of both, but it was getting pretty late, so an impromptu vow renewal may have to hold for another day.  

Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve.  That may be the perfect day for a morning outing and an afternoon nap.  The only thing that we know for sure is that we have a dinner reservation.  Beyond that, traffic will be shut down on the strip and everyone will be in the street, looking up at fireworks.  It should be amazing, if a bit insane.  For now, I am wiped out.  My watch’s step counter is confused- perhaps wondering whose wrist it was adorning today, but it was mine.  It was just a very busy day.  So that’s all she wrote.  See you tomorrow when we’re rested, clean and ready to take on a roller coaster or something like that. 

Cas will make a photo album in the morning, so wait for that!  Good night.

Update- here’s our photo album: https://tinyurl.com/Dunlapvegas

The best gifts

I have been accused of being a minimalist.  It's a fair description, and when it's used, I take it as a compliment.  I just don't like or want a lot of stuff.  I never have.  When I find that I have one thing too many, it's time to make a box for the Goodwill folks- in fact, I have a box in the works, now.  It's a little tricky to be married to someone like me unless you sort out gift-giving right away.  Cas is none too fond of clutter, either.  More stuff means he has to figure out where to put more stuff.  

The answer: Experiences.  Intangible things.  Last year, our New Years Eve celebration in San Antonio was our Christmas gift to each other.  Once, we rang in the new year in Fort Worth, for similar reasons.  This year, we head west.  The destination isn't even in Texas- instead, we're headed to Las Vegas, Nevada.  It was a really good deal.  We're not flying first class, nor are we staying in a swanky suite, but those Vegas folks really want you to come- so much that they'll let you in on a flight + on-the-strip hotel package for four nights surrounding a major holiday for two people for just north of a thousand dollars.  If all you're doing is people-watching, that's the cheapest vacation ever.  We will be doing a little more than that, though.  We leave in 48 hours and return in 2025.  We're on to see a magic show, we've got dinner reservations for New Years Eve and we're planning a little adventure on the Colorado River to see the Hoover Dam.  I don't know the first thing about gambling, so that's pretty much out.  I worked too hard for too long in my life to put dollars on the line in a game of chance, but there's so much to see and do that we won't lack options.  Maybe we visit the Mob Museum.  Perhaps we ride a roller coaster atop a casino.  There's apparently an amazing ferris wheel to check out and a replica of the Eiffel Tower we need to pose in front of.  Lots to do before we head back to our jobs.  

Some people say the best gifts are the ones money can't buy.  Some say the best gifts are hand made.  I'm betting on my theory that the best gifts are experiences you can share.  

Viva Las Vegas, everyone!

Three day weekend

Today marks the end of the first three day weekend of the school year.  Cas and I are sitting at the Albuquerque airport, waiting for the people who currently occupy the airplane we can see out the window to get off the plane so it can be cleaned and re-seated.  

It’s time to go back to work- time to go back to our lives and time for me to go be fifty for a year.  

We started the day at a hotel, made our way to a great university-adjacent restaurant called Frontier and each ordered a massive burrito.  Our trolley tour guide from Saturday recommended that restaurant in the strongest of terms, but warned that there is often a line to get in.  We saw a line as we were leaving, in fact, but we were there pretty early, so there was not much time between entering the restaurant and the massive burrito.  

We had so few delays in our day that we had a little time to kill, so we went to a local coffee shop.  The coffee shop and the restaurant were both actually on a pretty famous thoroughfare, so this morning, we got our kicks on Route 66.  Heck, when in Albuquerque, right?  

But it’s nearly time to fasten my seatbelt and put my tray table and seat in the correct position.  Back to work, folks.  See you on here next time we head out of town.  For now, here is one more link to our photo album.

Up, up and away!

Think about your morning routine, then think about what would have to happen for you and another person to be awake, clean and dressed in time to get out the door of a hotel room by 5:45 am.  Now, prepare to be impressed- we hit the mark, but we hit it early by about ten minutes.  

Rainbow Ryders is the name of the company Cas selected for my birthday balloon ride, and they expected us to arrive before six.  It all makes sense, too, because we were there to see the sun rise from the basket of a hot air balloon.   

We got there, and we were assigned a pilot.  They have color-coded tickets, based on who is flying you around Albuquerque.  We had green tickets, so that meant that we’d be spending the morning with Alfred.  

Spoiler alert: Alfred is clearly the best pilot.  He has been doing this for over two decades, and he knows exactly how to maneuver a balloon to travel exactly where he wants to go and land precisely where he wants it to land.  The dude had us floating just above treetops when he wanted us to be low, but he had us way up high when that was called for.  He’s very good  And he was our pilot on the best and most unique birthday balloon I have ever had anything to do with.  

We met about a block from our hotel, checked in, signed a waiver and hopped into a van.  They took us to a shopping mall parking lot, which is one of their alternative locations when the Balloon Fiesta Park is closed- more on that later.  Cas commented that the balloon launch was the most positive experience he’d ever had at a  mall.  Me, too, honestly.  Man, we’re both bad at shopping.  

We floated above the world.  At times, it was perfectly silent except for a dog barking in some distant neighborhood.  At other moments, we heard nothing but the rush of the giant column of flame that kept us aloft.  It was very, very cool.  

We floated around, rising and falling for about an hour, until we were ready to land in Mariposa Park.  I love the word Mariposa.  It’s Spanish for Butterfly.  Mariposa is such a prettier way to say it than Butterfly.  

Regardless, we landed smoothly at Mariposa park, and in proper hot-air-balloon tradition, we had champagne to celebrate a successful flight.  The Rainbow Ryders staff brought a cooler with all the stuff to make mimosas, and Cas was on board with a mimosa when we got off board from the balloon to have a toast.  

This was, far and away, the coolest, most unique and very best birthday present I have ever received.  Second best, of course, was the red bicycle when I was five.  I mean, it had a white woven basket, and Dad painted it red himself.  But seriously, did it fly?  

After the balloon trip across the skies of Albuquerque, we managed to make it back to the hotel in time for the last bites of breakfast.  We did all of this majestic floating before nine.  We made a plate of food each, walked back to the room and ate a few bites before our pre-afternoon-nap.  And a necessary nap it was- it was about an hour and a half from our heads hitting the pillows to the moment when we were back up and spreading on sunscreen.  

Stop number two today was the Albuquerque Harvest Wine Festival.  That was held at a place called Balloon Fiesta Park.  Obviously, that’s why we couldn’t launch a balloon from there. Okay, I get it.  

The festival was nice, of course, but we made the tactical error of walking there.  In my estimation, there are two kinds of walks you can take.  One is a leisure walk, and the other is a transportation walk  Our journey was a 25 minute walk that, aspirationally, we had wanted to be a leisure walk.  It was such a transportation walk.  All  business.  No scenery, no joy.  Are we there yet?  

About a third of the way in, we discussed the option of taking an Uber back to the hotel.  We arrived back in our hotel in a red Tesla driven by a nice man named Joel.  

Now, it’s time to relax.  We had a box in the hotel room fridge from last night’s dinner and some wine for which my identification was checked just yesterday.  We are in for the night.  Good thing, too.  We can’t pack too much more into this weekend.  It’s time to wind down and head back home tomorrow.  Apparently, we are just starting the school year.  Who can remember these things?  But until then, enjoy this image of us, being silly this morning: 

While we’re talking about it, here, finally, is our photo album!

Enjoy!  

Ten thousand three hundred foot birthday dinner

There’s a restaurant on Sandia Peak called Ten three.  It’s 10,300 feet above sea level.  This year, I have had a more acute awareness of the number of feet I am above sea level.  The folks who usher you up and down the mountain tell you to be aware of the altitude and drink lots of water.  Altitude?  I could tell Cas was thinking the same thing as I was.  Altitude?  That’s cute.  Let me tell you about Cusco.  

We would never actually say that, but it was rolling around in our brains as we waited in line to board the tramway up the mountain.  And boy, did we ever wait.  You see, there was a little, teeny tiny bit of lightning and thunder at the peak of the mountain, and the tramway shuts down when that happens.  After about the first hour and a half of literally waiting for the storm to pass, we started looking for a different way to have my birthday dinner.  The entry tickets are all time stamped, of course, and we were growing in hunger and frustration as we watched our time tick by.  We’d narrowed our restaurant choices and were just about to summon an Uber to take us away when the service to the top reopened.  Hallelujah!  

It took some time to board and some more time to get there, but when we got to the top, there was a visible rainbow.  Talk about a sign from the heavens that we were right to be patient.  Still, an hour and a half after we had planned to be there meant we were plenty hungry when we were seated for dinner.  As we approached the restaurant and waited just a few more moments for the table, we saw the sun set from the mountain.  Okay, that was pretty great.  Maybe the timing worked out perfectly after all.  

Today, we’re awake before dawn.  It is quite unlike Cas to do that voluntarily, but this one is special.  We have a sunrise balloon flight.  We watched the sun set from a mountain last night.  We can watch it rise from a hot air balloon today.  We honestly still haven’t put together our photo album yet, though.  Maybe that would have been a smart thing to do while we waited for the tramway to reopen, but it didn’t occur to either of us.  We’ll get there, though.  We should have some pretty amazing photos after this morning wraps up.  Beyond that, there’s a wine and music festival to attend, then we wind it all down and have to return to our lives.  

Fun moment to mention before I sign off for my floating flight, though- the waiter last night asked if we were celebrating anything.  I said I was turning fifty.  He said, “Well, you look great; happy birthday!”  And I said, “Thank you; it’s dark in here.”  

See you when we’re back on the ground, friends!

(This was the view just before we came back down…)

Bugs Bunny’s left turn

I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque.  

My first introduction In life to the idea that there was a place with the unusual moniker “Albuquerque” was in a Warner Brothers cartoon.  But with his distinctive bunny accent, Bugs rhymed it with the word turn.  That wascally wabbit!  

Today, we woke up at a hotel in Albuquerque, New Mexico, which is the hot air balloon capital of the world.  I am officially fifty years old as of this morning (at 6 am, according to my parents’ recollections), and to celebrate, we’re headed up, up and away tomorrow morning.  This morning, we did a trolley tour of the city, followed by enchiladas and chiles rellenos with a pair of margaritas.  Arther that, we decided to head back to the hotel to change clothes for our evening, which will see us head to the top of the nearby Sandia Peak.  As we learned this summer, altitude changes the weather a bit.  It may not be the right night for shorts and sandals.  

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a convenience store to pick up a few bottles of water and a little bit of wine for the hotel room.  And while it’s great that we had a nice morning- while it’s grand that we are headed out to float peacefully above it all tomorrow morning- while it’s wonderful to enjoy a new place and its cuisine culture and scenery- I got flippin’ carded.  On my fiftieth birthday, 29 years after I was old enough to buy alcohol, I was asked by a cashier for my ID.  On my birthday.  And I didn’t see Cas tell the girl at the register to do it, either.  He says he didn’t.  So it was legitimate.  I got honest-to-goodness carded on my fiftieth birthday.  

So happy birthday to me.  

We’re headed out in a little bit to take what they call a tram to the top of a mountain.  I would have gone with cable car or gondola, but the box-on-a-string is taking us up for some beautiful views this evening.  We’ll probably make a photo album after, but for now, here’s a pic of me and my guy, about to hop on a sightseeing trolley this morning.  Happy birthday to me!  

And just like that

We’re back in Dallas, back in the house and waiting for the first of many loads of laundry to finish up in the dryer.  We popped the new refrigerator magnets on the freezer door and put on some decidedly comfy clothes.  We’re looking at nearly three weeks of mail and determining that there wasn’t much of value or consequence delivered to the mailbox in July.  

Tomorrow is Monday, and life goes on.  The city returns to work.  I have to go back on Thursday, in fact.  Seems a little early to me, but school district calendars run through a million layers of public input and school board approval, so I suspect my complaints would get a little drowned out if I bothered.  

Cas and I arrived at DFW before lunch.  His mom and stepdad picked us up, and the bunch of us went out for a cheeseburger and a margarita.  Nothing says Welcome back to Texas like a big burger and a Tex-Mex cocktail.  

We’re hanging up the travel toothbrush for a while- but not that long, actually.  I’m going to go ahead and turn 50 in just over a month, and Cas has a three-day-weekend getaway in store for us.  I am, as ever, down to clown.  

In the meantime, we’ll live with the memories of the river, the mountains, the volcanoes, the ancient Incan cities, the unfamiliar creatures, the other-worldly scenery and the excessively fancy hotels.  

Cheers, everyone!

One last time, here’s the Photo Album.

Who called the cops?

It’s our last day in Ecuador, and as such, the last day of this vacation.  Cas and I just woke up from a nap- kind of a necessary thing, given the plans for the next several hours of our lives.  It’s creeping up on 6pm as I write, and at 8, we need our packed bags ready.  The tour company has arranged for an 8pm check out which is something I have never heard of before this trip.  Latest late checkout ever.  At 8:15, we meet the tour director in the lobby, and he takes us (along with the other four people flying into Houston) to the airport.  There, we check in, clear whatever hurdles we need to clear and hop on a flight at 12:40am to Houston.  There, we land at something like 6am, and there we stay until we hop back on a flight at 9:30, and we’re in our house before Sunday lunchtime.  Crazy, no?  It must be the best way to do it.  I have learned to not ask a lot of questions in Quito,  I just assume that everything is being done to keep us as safe as possible.  

Case in point: Our police escort was back in motorcycle-revving action today, escorting us around.  I’m sure they were there when we went to the Pichincha Volcano first thing this morning.  They were definitely standing around the local market we visited after that, and they rode alongside our walking group as we marched from a bus to an entry point for the botanical gardens.  The words don’t match the actions.  We’re reassured that we’re safe, then we have police ride along as we walk.  It’s hardly soothing.  

Regardless, we leave soon, and hopefully, return to the usual level of police presence in our daily lives.

The trip to the Pichincha Volcano was very cool, though.  We took a cable-driven gondola to the top of the thing, lifting us up to over 13,000 feet above sea level.  From there, we walked around- and up- to 13,140 feet.  There were a pair of playground- style swings way up there, and we gave it a little go.  Usually, Cas and I find playground swing sets and go a while before leaping off forward into a kid-style run.  This time, we decided not to run that kind of risk.  There was only so much space in front of the things before the descent would begin, whether you wanted to or not.  

Leaving there, we were pretty dirty.  Cas shot a little sunblock at the tops of our feet in our walking sandals, and I am pretty sure that sunscreen helped more dirt stick to our feet.  When we left there, I needed to clean my feet for sure.  We almost didn’t have time, but I ducked out really quickly to the hotel room and grabbed my travel pack of baby wipes while everyone refilled their water bottles.  I don’t think I could have continued the day the way I was.  

With newly clean (ish) feet, we went to a local market and saw how the folks on Quito bought vegatables and meats while hustling through a fast-paced food court.  It was weird- we were there around lunchtime, but we were advised not to eat anything for fear that some of the local food preparation may not agree with our stomachs.  You don’t really have to tell me that sort of thing twice, but it does seem cruel to take me past food vendors and folks selling fresh fruit when I can enjoy none of it.  We stood there, waiting to move to the next destination under the close watch of our personal police escorts, who, I assume, could eat whatever they wanted.

The botanical garden was nice, but we spent a pretty long time at the beginning of our visit talking about the temperate regions and political motivations for different environmental restrictions in Ecuador.  I would have loved to spend that 30 minutes looking at flowers, but different strokes for different folks, right?  Regardless, we did finally get moving and we saw some beautiful things.  

And that was all she wrote.  We got back to the hotel, waved at the cops and split from the group for a large, belated lunch.  Now, it’s packing time.  Oh, and it’s our anniversary.  We are not exactly proceeding with the usual level of anniversary romance.  We took a nap, grabbed a shower and are busy shoving dirty clothes into a pair of wheeled bags.  I feel like we should at least be doing that last bit by candle light.  Alas, no.  And tomorrow, when we’re home, I think all I will really want will be a cheeseburger, so maybe the big anniversary dinner can hold off until the next day.  

For now, though, we pack and prepare.  See you back in the US.  Of course, here, again is Our Photo Album.

Coming soon to your local grocery store

Today, we went to the actual equator.  Remember when I said we were at the equator?  Yeah, well, since the identification of that spot, apparently scientists got a bit more precise and there was a little tectonic shift- the actual middle of the earth was the spot where a giant sundial sits.  On the equinoxes at exactly noon, there is no shadow cast from the post of the sundial.  It’s very interesting to think of it- the sun is so directly overhead that any shadow would aim straight to the base of the object.  The diameter of the sundial’s center post is pretty large, too.  I mean, here we are, standing inside it:

It was kind of neat.  I have been taken aback this whole trip with how nice the temperatures have been.  We are at the very equator, and we’re in a nice, breezy environment.  The sun is shining and the air is a good temperature- it just lacks the regular level of oxygen we’ve come to expect in air.  

From that spot, we went to a rose plantation.  They grow lots and lots of roses in Ecuador.  They apparently can grow very straight stems, owing to the direct, overhead nature of the sunlight.  The rich, volcanic soil plays a pretty heavy role in the process, too.  The place we visited had a whole production floor where flowers were brought in on a zip line-style system, sorted, prepared and packaged for sale in other countries.  Because we’re all from the US, he showed us a crate of packaged dozens of roses headed for Costco stores on the US East coast.  They were right next to the ones heading to Whole Foods locations.  You can probably find Ecuadorian roses in your local grocery store, though I haven’t noticed a nation of origin being listed on any bouquets.  The man who took us around talked about how the production process ramps up leading up to Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and peak wedding season, which he can tell you is June.  I guess in that business, you pay attention. 

The rose plantation was interesting, and they served us lunch in a house on the property that was attached to the church that once belonged to Jesuit priests.  Apparently, the Spaniards got a little cranky with the amount of property and influence the Jesuits had, so at a certain point, the Jesuits were booted from the whole darn country, leaving lots of beautiful things behind.  

We have a farewell dinner with our group tonight.  They sure do feed us on this trip.  And tomorrow morning, we’re taking a gondolas up the side of a volcano to have a look around before heading to a local market and seeing the botanical gardens.  That’s it, too.  That will be all she wrote.  We head out at a very strange time- our flight leaves 40 minutes after midnight, so technically on Sunday, even though we’ll get to the airport late on Saturday.  I am sure there is some logic to this.  I am also sure I don’t know what that logic is, entirely.  Either way, we’ll be home Sunday afternoon and back to our own bed, our own shower and our own flat, less-than-scenic city before you know it.  

In the meantime, of course, have a look at Our Photo Album.

Whistling in the dark

So last night’s dinner was one for the books.  We walked down a few flights of steps to a dining area inside of the lava tunnel we visited the day before.  Here’s Cas, sitting at a table in the inexplicably spooky, dark underground space.  

It was totally different.  They served five courses, all paired with beers or wines that matched well with the food, and every single thing was spectacular. 

The one thing nobody saw coming was James, whistling in the dark.  I know that expression doesn’t exactly fit- it usually means to face a fear- but June’s very tall son James whistles in perfect pitch. He whistled out a spot-on “I dreamed a dream,” followed by “What a wonderful world.” 

It was one of the most remarkable things I’ve heard in a while. I can barely whistle a few notes, but this kid can really make music.  Cas took a bit of video, so check out the photo album if you want to hear some of it. 

We’re off to Quito in a few.  I’m writing from the airport, about to leave the beautiful Galápagos Islands. 

See you back on the mainland! 

Check out Our Photo Album.

Can you tell a critter from a hole in the ground?

Okay, okay- I literally walked out the door while uploading that last post.  I didn’t talk about the important stuff like the animals we saw or the things we did.  I seriously think I just discussed the oddities in my visual field.  Sorry about that.  

So, yeah, anyhow.  Yesterday, we did a nature walk, had lunch on a yacht and followed that with a little snorkeling in the ocean.  It was pretty awesome.  We saw sea lions occasionally rise from their beach time slumber to argue over territory or girls, only to lay back down and relax. We saw iguanas and ancient cacti.  We saw a lot.  It was very cool.  Cas certainly took some snorkeling photos, but I just didn’t want to try.  I am a weak swimmer, and I don’t suspect that snorkeling in the open water would help my confidence.  

Last night, we got a fire going in the fireplace in Villa number five.  We ordered room service and a bottle of wine, and we just watched the fire crackle and go.  It was kind of relaxing.  Today, we saw frigate birds and iguanas.  

Today was cool, though.  We saw the illustrious blue-footed boobie.  It was just as strange as you’d suspect.  We saw other amazing creatures on our walk.  Cas had a second opportunity to snorkel today, and I took the time to walk out into the ocean, then wander around on the beach.  When I walked to one rock outcropping from a different one, I was approached by an iguana.  He walked toward me, so I tried to back up.  They say you should keep six feet between yourself and another critter out there.  Every time I backed off, he walked up.  He followed me across a pretty good piece of sand.  

When we got all done living our yacht lives, we had a few other things to do.  We had to visit the Gemelos, which are the twin sinkholes that aren’t sinkholes.  They’re holes left by magma pocket or some such nonsense during a previous volcanic eruption.  After the twins, we planted trees into significantly smaller holes in the ground.  Apparently, the trees that are supposed to be around here are being overtaken by blackberries and guava trees.  It’s not that blackberries or guavas are bad- it’s just that thye’re better at persistence than the native plants, and those are the ones that the conservation folks are trying to bring back.  

And with that nugget, I have to hit the hay.  I am so tired I can hardly see straight.  I must talk about the lava tunnel dinner (AKA dining in a hole in the ground)- but I need to do that tomorrow.  I am seriously wiped out.  Good night, folks!  

Check out Our Photo Album.

Public Service Announcement

I am currently a walking, talking public service announcement to remind others about the importance of  sunscreen.  Look at my legs, and you’ll remember to grab your own tube of Coppertone.  Okay, okay- usually, I have to put on sunscreen to look out a window, but somehow, yesterday, I was very diligent about my arms, neck and upper body in general, forgetting just before our nature walk that I have legs, as well.  Ah!  The legs can get burned just as easily as the arms.  This concludes my public service announcement.  Wear sunscreen.

But to the rest of the story- we took a van to the water, hopped on a dinghy and rode out to the Santa Fe.  It’s a small yacht- in case I didn’t sound fancy enough.  We spent a few hours moving from one island to another (The Galápagos Islands are many- it’s a whole archipelago- and on the way, I suspect a good quarter of the folks in our group had some level of seasickness.  I know how to solve that for myself- just be in the open air and look to the horizon.  You’re all set.  Sadly, this doesn’t work for everyone, and the waters were pretty choppy.  Alas, we got to another island via the same dinghy (we dragged it behind us- that would have been a super-choppy ride) and walked around to discover sea lions, iguanas, crabs, birds and other critters.  It was very nice, and that sun was for real.  That’s when the sunburn really took form.  

After the nature walk, we had a chance to snorkel out in the ocean.  I felt like a dork with my floaty, but given my lack of strength as a swimmer, it was the right move.  I was never the swimmer.  You’re thinking of my older brother, Jeff.  I was the gymnast- a fat lot of good that did me with my snorkel…

But this time, I did okay.  The initial entry into the water was a little jarring and scary, and I did have a rather unique visual problem.  I have the beginnings of cataracts, so sometimes, I see little floaters inside my eyeballs.  I also used the recommended shampoo to keep the mask from fogging, and there were little floaters in the water in front of me.  My problem was determining which things I was seeing- in my eyes, my mask or the water.  Funny problem, if you ask me.  

But for now, we have to hit the road.  Another day on the Santa Fe awaits us.  On to the Blue-Footed Booby! 

 Check out Our Photo Album.

Villa number five

I was so darn tired last night that I didn’t have the opportunity to write about our accommodations.  We’re at the Royal Palm Hotel, Galapagos.  Holy Moly.  I suspect we paid extra or something- we paid off the trip so long ago that it’s hard to remember- but this room is stupid pretty.  Let’s begin with the fact that it is an independent building at the end of a path.  There’s a front room with a bay window, a fireplace and a couch.  To the left, there’s a master bedroom with a giant bed and plenty of room to have a dance party of you want one.  Continuing around clockwise, you have the bathroom.  There is an outer part to that with a long counter, then two separate rooms- one with a fancy Japanese toilet and another that is just about the biggest shower I have seen.  I told Cas you could go all “the hills are alive” in there.  I suspect he did.  

The final room is the most puzzling.  Here is what you’ll find in the last room of the four-room mini-house: One armchair with an ottoman, one two-person table, perfect for a breakfast nook or a quick card game and one full sized bathtub.  In case you want to have friends over while you have a bath.  

We’re off to a yacht ride and some snorkeling today, but I had to stop and talk about the bath-room.  This place is just too fancy for words… 

Check out Our Photo Album.

Time for tortoises

This morning, we left Quito and headed for the Galápagos Islands.  It took some doing to get there- we began with a flight that landed about halfway there for a moment.  A good number of people hopped off the airplane and several more hopped on.  When we arrived at the Galápagos Islands, we were greeted by an iguana on our way from the airplane to the main airport building.  We zipped through security and headed to the hotel by way of a bus-to-boat-to-van transport.  

We were only in the hotel for a moment before we had a lunch date with our tour group, followed by a trip to see the giant Galapagos tortoises.  Great success:

That’s certainly one for the Christmas card.  We went from there to explore the lava tubes on the island.  They are the remnant pieces of evidence that this island is volcanic.  It was a fun underground walk by flashlight with a pair of helmets on. A vacation really doesn’t get going until you have to don a helmet, if you ask me.  

We got back from there and had only 20 minutes to regroup before an organizational meeting and dinner.  Our villa at this hotel is about a five minute walk from the reception area, so that would have left us with ten minutes to do whatever.  Hardly seemed worth the walk.  

So, for now, we’re well fed, we’ve talked through the day tomorrow and we’re ready to go play.  We snorkel tomorrow.  

For now, though I am super wiped out.  I need to flop down in the ultra-fancy bed here in Villa 5.  In the meantime, please check out Our Photo Album.

Good news and bad news

The good news is that Cas and I were perfectly safe all day long.  The bad news (maybe it’s bad news?) is that our entire tour group was escorted around Quito by two police motorcycles.  Doesn’t sound so bad?  I get what you mean, but let me frame it this way- why did the tour company feel the need to provide us a police escort?  It probably wasn’t a free service done out of great generosity by the Ecuadorean law enforcement community.  How bad is this town without a pair of cops clearing your path?  Either way, traffic was a snap.  

Regardless, we did start our adventure today on the actual equator.  Cas and I practiced our pose in the hotel before we took off, so when we got to the place where the Northern Hemisphere meets the Southern one, we had it all figured out:

For the rest of the day, it was pretty much what you’d expect.  We saw church after church and took a stroll through a lively town square.  If I’m being honest, there isn’t much about Quito that you can’t find somewhere else, with the notable exception of that nifty equator line.  

The big deal in Ecuador is the Galápagos Islands.  We head there tomorrow.  The hotel where we’re staying right now offers us the option to store a piece of luggage until we return, and we’re taking advantage.  There is absolutely no reason to drag a bag of dirty clothes to the islands and back.  Just throw a swimsuit, some undies and a few shirts in a backpack, and go for it, right?  So tomorrow, we go for it.  

We had another lecture this evening from Reggie.  She talked about the Quechua language and some tidbits from native Andean culture.  It felt kind of like being back in college again, except this time, we brought wine to the lecture.  I still took good notes, though.  Not that I have a clue what to do with those notes.  Note taking is a habit.  Muscle memory.  It’s what you do when someone is teaching a class.  

So more good news, bad news.  Good news: I have some neat lecture notes about Andean people, language, myths and beliefs.  Bad news: Now what?  Heh.  Yeah, at least we learned some stuff and had a good time.  I think it would be really fun to go to school with Cas.  Maybe we can sign up for some continuing ed classes in South American cultures and lore at the local community college.  Yeah, I am guessing those aren’t the most frequently taught classes.  

Anyhow, tomorrow, we head to the Galápagos Islands.  My dad wondered aloud before we left it we’d be permitted to hop on the back of a giant tortoise and ride it like a horse.  Apparently, that was something he and his siblings did in their childhoods.  I’m guessing there are no tortoise saddles in our future, but then again, I would have never guessed at Guinea Pigs as a food source, so what do I know?  

Speaking of Guinea Pigs, one more thing before I drift off and dream of saddling up and riding various tropical creatures- it’s about the conversion of the Incan people to Catholicism.  The Spaniards were smart.  They allowed for Jesus statues to be made from darker stone so the indigenous people would relate more easily.  They had that nifty Last Supper painting with a Guinea Pig on the table.  The last church we went to today featured the tradition of Gargoyles on the outside of the building.  European churches have European gargoyles, but the Spaniards saw that the local folks here in Ecuador had a whole bevy of weird animals, so the gargoyles on one of Quito’s churches were llamas, anteaters, pumas, and saddle-free tortoises, 

The first rule of teaching anything is that you have to meet people where they are.  If you’re currently incapable of basic addition, calculus can wait.  If the holy trinity and giving of thyself thine only begotten son is a bit far fetched, start with adding recognizable things to the imagery.  Baby steps.

But for now, we sleep.  Tomorrow, we set out for the Galapagos.  In the meantime, check out Our Photo Album.

June’s performance

The one thing that I did’t write about yesterday was June.  She is a wonderful Japanese American woman who lives in Idaho, of all places.  She came to the US to go to college and met her husband there while she was in a math class.  She’s along on this journey with the youngest of her three kids, her very tall son James.  She double majored in school in flute performance and biomedical science, and is just about the most interesting person I have met in a while.  

She brought a flute to play at Machu Picchu, and she did just that at an early-morning entry time.  Apparently, she got through most of El Condor Pasa before a security person shut her down.  I suppose that makes sense.  If every hippie with a guitar and band kid with a trombone could do as they pleased, it would be cacophony.  

But June is special, and somehow, I suspect they didn’t run to shut her down- maybe they walked.  Maybe they walked slowly.  She’s pretty good.  I missed it.  Cas was just saying goodbye to the last vestiges of the stomach bug that all of us who visited the Amazon managed to pass around.  I could hardly abandon my husband to go listen to an illegal flute performance at one of the wonders of the modern world- no matter how cool that sounds.  

I chalked that one up to being a good wife.  Oh, well.  But the Monestario Hotel provided an opportunity.  They had a chapel there that June was permitted to use and they gave her a half hour yesterday to perform.  She had brought a beginner’s flute- in case it was lost or -God forbid- confiscated, she didn’t want her professional one in the mix.  She stood in front of the cathedral with an elaborate Catholic display behind her, wearing her travel clothes and told pieces of her life, punctuated with music.  She played El Condor Pasa, just as she had practiced for Machu Picchu.  She played Danny Boy, partly for the Irish-American woman in our group, and partly as a tribute to her lonely college self using music to connect with her fellow students all those years ago.  She played a Japanese folk song that I wish I had recorded, and finally, she played a version of Ave Maria that I hadn’t heard before.  She chose that one because she was in the chapel of a former monastery.  There is a video of her playing that last song in our photo album.  You really should check it out.  

She is something special.  If I am ever in Idaho, I am scheduling an event of some kind, just so I can book her to play all of the music.  

Check out Our Photo Album.  There’s a video of her in there.  

Sea Level

I have thought more about sea level in the past week than I have ever thought about it in my life.  I always knew Dallas was a bit flat and dull.  Shoot, I count on that when I travel so I have great contrast- but apparently, Dallas averages 500 feet above sea level at any given point.  Good to know.  I am currently a little higher up.  My iPhone compass says I am 11,210 feet above sea level.  So higher, then.  Got it.  

This is as tall as we get, too.  Tomorrow, we leave Cusco and head to Quito, Ecuador, where we’ll be low-riding at only 9,350 feet above sea level.  The Galápagos Islands should be a shock to the system after that, as we will literally be swimming in the sea.  I can hardly wait.  I feel so very, very out of shape when there are stairs here in Peru.  I get halfway up a flight and pause to catch my breath.  I get to the top and have a sip of water.  Altitude is s no joke.  

I have been working out in my flat, flat city, too.  I was pretty vigilant during the school year, shooting for one 45-minute workout every day.  There were a few days when that wasn’t in the cards, but I was mostly good about it.  I even kept after it when school ended before we left.  But show me a flight of stairs in Cusco, and forget about it.  I feel like a 300 pound pack-a-day smoker when I reach the top..  

As predicted, today we went to the sun temple, the cathedral and the museum.  They were all pretty great, but none of those was the headline  The headline was the lunch when we finally saw a pair of cooked-up Guinea Pigs.  They were practically begging for people to be outraged.  You could see their little mouths opened up as they were cooking.  It was kind of creepy.  

We have a strange cognitive dissonance with our meats in the US.  We don’t befriend cows or chickens or pigs very frequently, so we can eat them.  But Guinea Pigs are class pets.  They are treasured companions.  They are assigned names.  They are clearly not food.  Name a cow, and you’ll reconsider a ribeye.  

I can safely assume that Peruvian Guinea Pigs are not often (if ever) assigned names.  They are bred, fattened and cooked.  We all tired a bite, but I had fish for lunch.  I did not name the fish, either.  

Funny story- the cathedral we went to featured a Peruvian take on lots of biblical things.  The Spaniards who came wanted to convert the Incan people to Catholicism, and shrewdly allowed some local color into the church to make the faith more accessible.  That’s why a carved statue of Jesus in the church is darker than the typical Catholic art.  And that’s also why there was a last supper painting with a cooked Guinea Pig in the middle of the table while Judas looks furtively to the side.  It’s so very, very Peruvian.  

When the day came to a close, Cas and I made a stop in the hotel bar.  It’s a very good hotel, and the hotel bar is also kind o amazing.  We had a pair of fancy cocktails and an appetizer for dinner.  The appetizer was Guinea Pig free.  We also decided that our last night in Peru should be punctuated by a final Pisco Sour.  We just need to drink about a gallon of water before bed.  This high above sea level, your body craves more water and tells you so by giving you a whammy of a headache.  

Tomorrow, we should be dropping all the way down to 9,350  feet above sea level.  I don’t know what kind of adorable class pets folks there will eat, but we intend to head that way and see what we see on the way to the Galapagos.  See you in another country, just a little closer to sea level!

In the meantime, of course, check out Our Photo Album.

Livin’ that monk life

Last night and tonight, we are at the Monasterio Hotel in Cusco.  It’s just about as fancy as anyplace I have stayed- too fancy for me and Cas and our usual expectations, but when in Rome, am I right?  This hotel is built in an old monastery, and from what I am seeing around the grounds, monks had it pretty good.  I had breakfast this morning between Cas and a 327 year old cedar tree in the center of a courtyard while sipping on my first mimosa of the trip. The juice was so fresh that I almost felt bad about adding champagne.  Almost.  

We’re in a pretty, little room that has most certainly been updated from the monk days of the space.  The bathroom is all marble and the bed is so comfortable that we actually needed the alarm this morning.  

When we did get up and got ourselves fed, we headed to the Plaza de Armas, which is like a town square.  There’s a pretty fountain in the middle and about half of the city residents selling something on the sidewalks and park space.  No, I don’t want earrings.  I’m all set for small paintings.  I don’t wish for a walking tour.  My sunglasses needs are met.  It didn’t take long for me to be over the Plaza de Armas, which is sad, because it’s interesting.  

Case in point- there was a protest there today.  We saw police in riot gear walking beside the protest parade.  There was a megaphone and a series of assembled marchers.  It looked from their signage like they were workers trying to unionize or organize.  It was a peaceful demonstration, well managed and interesting to see.  I for one hope that the hard working folks around here can get good treatment from whosoever their bosses are.  I don’t know what they were asking for or what they felt they were being denied, but I have worked hard in my life, so I at least have empathy.  

But for today, we got a little food, a little wander-around time and a little local color.  Next, we go to a cathedral, see the ruins of an Incan sun temple and head to a Pre-Columbian art museum.  Buckle up- we’re over 11,000 feet, and it’s easy to get winded.  

More later, but for now, here is Our Photo Album.

The bucket list

Waking up just next door to an ancient Incan city is something else.  I was out of bed inexplicably early- long before the alarm went off- and ready to get going just about when Cas peeled back the covers and emerged from his much needed slumber.  We’re at the train station, now, waiting for the fancy-pants Hiram Bingham train that will carry us to Cuzco for the next few nights.  That promises to be a good spot for scooping up souvenirs.  We thought it may be a good idea to mail our hiking boots home from there, as well.  

We have a few nights in Cuzco, a few in Quito, Ecuador and then we close out the trip in the Galápagos Islands.  It’s interesting- everyone who booked this tour had some kind of beginning thought.  Some booked for the Galapagos and found Machu Picchu to be the bonus, and for others, it was the other way around.  I actually started out with the idea of Machu Picchu.  It sounded so strange and alien to me.  This giant stone place.  Is it a city?  A fortress?  Some version of an ancient monastery?  And how did life work in this space?  Why so high up?  How did they do anything at that altitude, and where did they get water?  I had more questions than I knew what to do with, and while I could have read a book or watched a documentary, this way seemed so much more interesting.  

We’ve done it.  We came, we saw, we hiked it twice.  We can check off another item from the bucket list and make a new goal.  

Cas and I are both feeling pretty good for the moment- there have been a few moments for us both that had us wondering what we ate or drank that didn’t sit quite right.  

We have a stay tonight in the second Belmont Hotel property we’ll visit.  Apparently, those are a really big deal.  I will look later to see how much a one-night stay costs independent of this tour group, but for now, I would rather not know.  

But that’s it for now- Splendor?  Check.  Grandeur?  Check.  What’s next?  

Here is Our Photo Album.

Almost Insta-famous

Today, we woke up in the Sacred Valley, and tonight, we sleep within feet of the entry to Machu Picchu.  Sometimes, I have to step back from my life and look at what’s happening as if I am seeing it from the outside.  I live an amazing existence.  Sorry to get too overwhelmed or taken aback today, but Cas and I walked through massive stone walls, terraces and temples made by people who had only the most rudimentary tools, and looking at what they created with just stones, logs and muscle makes me feel like I somehow live in magical times.  

We look back now and call them primitive.  We wait our turn to take a photo while a pair of teenagers take what can only be a full Instagram album of carefully posed photos.  We gasp for breath just lugging a small backpack with bottled water, knowing the builders lugged so much more.  So often in our travels, Cas and I find things that existed long before our births that will persist long after we are dust, and we take stock.  Travel can do that for you, if you’re paying attention.  If you’re, not, it can make a really nice Instagram album for you while you aggravate others.  

Full disclosure-  today wasn’t all majesty and wonder.  We also contemplated how gratifying it would be to deliberately stand in between the person being photographed and the camera taking the photo.  We wouldn’t, really.  Not for the first two or three dozen photos, but seriously.  Take a moment and drink it in, kid!  

Macho Picchu was all it was cracked up to be.  Massive grand, inexplicable, impressive.  We marched about today on the dirt and stones and saw the wonder that it is.  And to get here, we took a train on a railroad track that paralleled the river that Hiram Bingham followed to “discover” this lost city.  A lot has been made of Bingham’s discovery.  Interesting that he found a place where people owned the surrounding land and lived there, knowing full well that there were old ruins nearby.  Stories like that make me think of Tenzing Norgay.  Nobody ever celebrates old Tenzing Norgay.  Nobody put his face on money or made his “discovery” a chapter in a schoolbook.  Tenzing Norgay was the Sherpa who helped Sir Edmund Hilary climb Mount Everest.  Hillary gets all the credit, but Norgay hauled all his stuff up the mountain in his own darn country.  

I digress.  I usually do.  

We went up the path that Bingham used and saw the place he “discovered.”  It was amazing.  And tonight, we stay at a sanctuary lodge that is within feet of the entry of Machu Picchu.  I mean, wow.  There are only something like 31 rooms here, and they’re impossible to get. The tour company is going to stop using it soon because it’s too hard to secure.  It’s also really, really expensive.  All that is to say, I am glad we’re here.  It’s a once in a lifetime stay.  This place is extra fancy.  I snapped a few pics of the bizarrely tailored amenities in the room.  They folded the TP in the bathroom to an origami point and secured it to the rest of the roll with a logo sticker.  That’s doing too much, if you ask me.  

But tomorrow, we have a breakfast and a final hike through Machu Picchu before heading to Cuzco again.  This is a really neat trip, folks.  Cas and I are really happy to be here, in just a little but of awe of the something so old and strange.  

We need to get some dinner, now, check out  Our Photo Album.

Is there a Peruvian woman right behind me?

What a difference a day makes.  I woke up this morning hungry- which is something I haven’t done for a few days.  I was my regular self again- Hallelujah!  Did you ever feel so down and out that you felt your brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders?  Like you weren’t sure you made sense all day?  Yep.  Check and check- that was me yesterday.  I was so wiped out that I kept leaving things on our bus when we’d stop to look at something.  First stop: I forgot my phone to take photos.  Second stop:  I forgot something else.  All day was that way, and apparently, for extra fun, I dropped my wallet in the back where Cas and I were seated.  I camped out in the very back row hoping for a little room to spread out, and what I managed to do was dump out my possessions, leaving my wallet behind.  

Cutting to that particular chase, the driver found it, and he’ll bring it to me in the morning.  Thank God.  

Like I said, today was so much better.  I was Heather again.  Our day started with a lecture from our Smithsonian expert, Reggie (I still want to call her Dr. Harrison when I feel she’s being particularly professorial) where she spoke mainly of Macho Picchu- just in time for our trip there tomorrow.  After that, we went to Ollantaytambo, which was both a temple and a fortress.  Fun fact: Dallas, Texas is 430 feet above sea level.  Ollantaytambo is at 9,350.  We got all the way up to 12,470 today.  It was some rare air up there.  We’re sleeping at 9,430, so we should be okay.  Sheesh.  But try to hold a conversation at that altitude while climbing stone stairs to the top of a fortress/temple, and tell me how it goes.  

From Ollantaytambo, we had entirely too much food, served family style, at a lovely Peruvian restaurant.  There was a dancing show in an open courtyard with Peruvian performers and fancy horse riding.  The horses were not quite the Lippizaner stallions, but they did move beautifully.  

From there, we saw a shaman.  He preferred to be called a Quechua Priest or somehow, “Paco” for short.  He did a blessing ceremony to Mother Earth.  Following that, there was a demonstration of the local weaving technique by a very charismatic girl who was not shy at all about her intent to persuade us to purchase the goods available in the store across from her.  As we all walked in, Peruvian women in native garb essentially stalked us, making me feel very uncomfortable.  Everything I slowed down to walk near elicited a comment about the item from the woman who attached to me like a remora to a shark.  I walked out of the store, and a few moments later, a young girl followed, explaining that she would make me a deal on the handbag that I made the egregious error of touching.  (never show interest!)  

It was all too much, but I really did want one of the backpacks.  I walked in with Cas, pointed at the one I wanted, and he handled the rest.  The women seemed baffled.  They wanted to talk to me, as women, in their experience, are the ones who shop.  I don’t like shopping in quiet solitude in the US.  I certainly don’t like high-pressure sales by stalking sales ladies.  But handmade Peruvian stuff is pretty neat.  

For now, we just wrapped up a very tasty, way-too-big dinner. We have to pack an overnight bag to take to Machu Picchu tomorrow and send the rest of our things ahead to Cusco.  It’s a selection process- what even smaller subset of your things made the cut?  What will you inevitably forget?  Let’s just hope you remember a wallet, am I right?  

Anyhow, we’ll chat soon from the hotel right next door to Machu Picchu.  Should be pretty amazing.  Until then, check out  Our Photo Album.

Still doing better than the Guinea Pig

Today, we left Lima at a ridiculously early hour.  The hotel breakfast started at something like four, just for our group, because we had to leave at five.  I get the logic, honestly, because Lima’s traffic is renowned for being absolutely awful on weekdays.  The earlier we got out of there, the better.  That put us on our flight to Cuzco at around eight.  

Full disclosure, I was really out of sorts today.  I can’t figure out why, though it may have something to do with my body’s response to malaria medicine and altitude medicine- but I didn’t sleep well last night, and I wasn’t eating well today.  I am feeling significantly better, now, though.  I had a very necessary nap when we arrived at our current hotel- more on that in a bit.  

But because I was really not firing on all cylinders, I’m calling in a ringer.  Cas was up and at ‘em while I was exhausted and nearly zombie-fied, so here’s what he says we did today, in his own words: 

“When we arrived in Cuzco, it was about 10:00.  Our bags left for the hotel and we would it see them again for another six hours while we took a tour of the surrounding areas.  Cuzco is about 11,000 feet above sea level, so the first part of the tour was to go even higher so we could look down and get a beautiful view of the city.  

The first place we went after driving across Cuzco was the Sacsayhuamán archaeological park.  (Me again- when our guide said the name, I kept hearing her wrong, and I thought she was saying sexy woman)  I don’t actually know if it was a town or a castle.  We saw the stonework that was all geometrically arranged very cleverly.  We got to learn a little bit about how they moved 200-ton boulders up to this over 12,000 foot locale in extreme altitude.  

We had lunch at a that house (the restaurant was in a house).  La Princesita was the name of it.  On the way to Pisac, we saw the potatoes we learned about yesterday.  They were still using the same technique of freeze drying them outdoors.  

That’s when we drove down into the Sacred Valley, which is huge, but our first stop was Pisac.  That’s where they had the parade and festival.  We saw music and dancing in the town square.  

After that, we came to the hotel, which is a gorgeous, sprawling place, and you took a nap.”  

That covers all the stuff I was too wiped out to properly pay attention to.  I did take a full hour nap, and somehow, that fixed me right up.  The hotel is very fancy- perhaps too fancy- and while I dozed, Cas went and had a little exploring time.  He said he saw three alpacas, four peacocks, several koi, two big rocks that were inexplicably significant, and a bird.  Presumably, they’ll all be out of their enclosures tomorrow and wandering the grounds.  Well, maybe the rocks will stay put.  Look, it was a tough day.  But I really do feel a whole lot better now.  I ate most of my dinner, and I am way more full of energy than I have been all day long.  

There was a particularly memorable thing we did see on the way to the hotel- apparently, people around here don’t keep Guinea Pigs as pets, but they do breed them.  And apparently, they’re delicious.  There were vendors at the side of the road with entire Guinea Pigs impaled on spits, trying to sell them.  Our local guide assured us the little creatures are delicious.  I suspect there were some mixed emotions in the tour group.  

Tomorrow will be a full day exploration of the Sacred Valley, and maybe this time, I can pay attention.  Fingers crossed.  

Please check out  Our Photo Album.  Most of today’s pics are Cas’ doing.  Like I said, I was not myself…

One potato, two potato

Nothing like a leisurely morning to get your attitude right.  Today started slowly, and our only requirement was to have breakfast in our bellies before the 10:30 meeting time with our group.  It was the ten of us from the river adventure shuffling in, joined by the eight new folks and the dynamic duo of the tour director and the cultural expert.  

Efrain, the tour director was there, mild mannered and steady, to explain how things would go for the next day and a half.  Reggie (Or Dr. Harrison, if you’re fancy) was there to tell us about her role in our adventure.  They will be with us until the last day of this trip.  We got the low-down and were dismissed after Reggie and Efrain answered our questions.  We had to reconvene at 1pm for a tour of Lima and a visit to a pretty great museum.  

We saw the important buildings- city hall, the Peruvian equivalents of the White House and Supreme Court- and the Museo de Arte de Lima, abbreviated to MALI for those in the know.  Because our time in Lima is so limited, we had to hit the highest of highlights, and I think this day tripping did a good job.  

Behold some Peruvian art- a tapestry of warriors holding the heads of their enemies (which they subsequently shrunk):

We got back to the hotel in time to rest for a few moments before Dr. Reggie’s lecture entitled “The Poetry of Potatoes.”  In all my days, I have never met anyone as excited as her about potatoes.  We have an Irish-born woman in our group who became a US citizen, as well as a mother-and-son pairing from Idaho, and still, I think everyone learned a few potato facts today.  Fun fact, though, the Irish woman professed to hate potatoes at the very outset of the lecture, so while it went on, I penned for her the following haiku:

Potatoes have eyes / I can feel them watching me / I glare back at them

It was on the fly, but I think it captured something, don’t you?  

But Reggie was really into potatoes, potato knowledge and books about- you guessed it- potatoes.  Apparently, you’d be a fool if you dodn’t have a copy of “The History of the Socail Influence of the Potato” on your shelf.  And if you have kids, be sure to scoop up a copy  of “The Great Potato Book.”  

Also, please be aware that there are anywhere from 3,000 to 4,000 types of potato in Peru, and you can learn more about them all at the International Center for the Potato right her in Lima.  It’s a shame we don’t have more time.  

I kid, but Reggie is a really interesting woman.  She can read and communicate in Quechua, the language of Peruvian tribes, she has lived in Peru and Ecuador after her youthful Peace Corps stint in the Galapagos, and she knows all of the things about Machu Picchu.  She will definitely be an asset.  And she knows good ‘taters.  

After that, we had our official welcome dinner.  The pre-tour extension crew all knows one another, but the welcome dinner gave us a chance to meet the new couples and chat up the tour director folk a little more.  I sat across a couple where the woman was a retired school teacher and administrator..  We had plenty to discuss.  

For now, the whole of Peru is watching the last match of the America’s Cup soccer tournament, and even though Peru isn’t in the final match, they’ve clearly all got firm opinions on who should win.  We have to get up really early tomorrow, though.  We head to Cusco in the morning, which is the highest altitude place we’ll visit.  Take a deep breath, folks.  We’re going to where the air is thin.  See you there!  

As always, please check out  Our Photo Album.

A study in contrast

This morning, we started off with our standard breakfast in the lodge.  The whole group of ten assembled and ate different kinds of eggs.  Cas went with scrambled and I had an omelet.  There was a plate of bananas and miniature oranges as we’ve come to expect, and there was a plate of French toast in the middle.  Cas and I have been straight up forgetting to get coffee for two days in a row, now, so this morning, we made a point to head over to the self-serve coffee station and get a cup.  After that we hopped on our old speedboat (the covered one) with a very fast driver and went to see a village of Ribereños. Those are the people who live in villages near the river.  We walked through their town, saw the buildings and bridges and went into one of their homes.  The woman who lives there was named Irma, and she was ready to answer our questions about life in her village of San Luis.  It was a nice visit, but our tour guide kept answering the questions for her.  Maybe it’s cultural… 

When it was time to head out, the assembled children spent a moment singing us a pair of songs, then they wanted us to sing one.  With ten diverse individuals from many backgrounds in the US assembled, we agreed on Row, Row, Row Your Boat.  It seemed appropriate, given our proximity to a pretty famous river.  

Check out Irma’s kitchen:

When that wrapped up, it was time to head back to the lodge and pack.  Cas and I stood in front of the air conditioner unit for a while before tossing our things onto our bags and heading for lunch.  Full disclosure: He was kind of out of sorts this morning.  He started to feel better throughout the day and I started to feel worse.  I’m mostly good now, but I had an upset stomach for most of the afternoon.  Nothing like an afternoon of boat, bus and plane travel to drive home how inconvenient it is to feel off when away from home.  I suspect I am on the mend, now, but tonight is not the night to try exotic cuisine.  

And I can’t for the life of me figure out what I may have consumed that set me off.  I have even been rinsing my toothbrush with bottled water on this trip, so I can’t make heads or tails of it.  Regardless, as the title would suggest, today is a study in contrast.  We went from the open-air home with a thatched roof where Irma welcomed us and offered us a seat on a wooden bench to the Lima Westin hotel.  We’re on the 12th floor in a corner room and Oh My God!  It’s about as fancy as anyplace I have stayed before.  I would be curious to compare the size of the bathroom alone with the whole space we were in at the cabin.  And no knock on that cabin- it was very nice for a riverside cabin in the middle of the jungle- but dang the Lima Westin is swanky as swank can get.  

Tonight, we have to find dinner on our own, and tomorrow, we have a hotel breakfast buffet.  I have high hopes for that, just given the extreme fanciness of the space I am sitting in and writing.  After that, we meet with our new tour director, Efrain, and the other nine people who will be coming along.  Not everybody involved booked the pre-tour trip to the river.  I get why not- it is fraught with challenge and covered in dirt and bug spray, but I glad we went.  When in the world are we back in this neck of the woods again?  For now, we have to decide on dinner.  I think I can rally and have a nice meal, but room service is seeming like a pretty good option, too.  

But I will leave you with that.  The secret word today is contrast.  Check out  Our Photo Album.

Top of the world

Today was our trip to the canopy walkway.  It’s an elevated, suspended series of single-file bridges at the top of the trees in a section of rainforest we visited.

To get there, we left our lodge at 6:30 and got on a speedy boat.  Bonus: this one was covered.  Would have been nice yesterday, but I digress.  We took the boat to Indiana, a town so named because the founder’s son went to school in Indianapolis.  I so badly wanted it too be a different kind of Indiana with a statue of Harrison Ford in the center of the town square.  Can’t have it all, can you? 

To get from one side of Indiana to the other, we rode MotoCoaches  that’s kind of a vehicular Minotaur made from a motorcycle and a rickshaw, as near as I can figure.  Ours was an old Honda with a kickstart and a skilled rider who knew just how to navigate the many potholes and breaks in the double-wide sidewalk that passed for a road.  It was really amazing. 

Once we were on the correct side of Indiana, we hopped on another boat and made our way to the canopy walkway  we spent a little time trudging through some lush forest to the start of the canopy walkway adventure.  

It was a series of rope, metal and wood bridges. They were lots of fun, only really perilous to those afraid of heights, and all around good times, with the notable exception of the feeling I got when the metal bits creaked.  It felt a little like judgement, and I wanted to defend myself to the material creaking beneath my feet: I’m not that heavy, bridge, and I resent your judgement.  

Regardless, it was a great experience. 

What followed that was a seafood lunch and a visit to a shaman. The shaman told us about some of the leaves, barks and roots found in the jungle that people use for their different healing properties. It was all very interesting, but after a very active morning and a sizable lunch, his soft voice in the darkened thatch-roof hit while a gentle rain hit the roof was enough to put half of our crew to sleep. 

What we were able to retain was interesting, but we were all pretty darn relaxed.  

We came back by boat only- no Tuk Tuks the second time around.  

And for now, we’re waiting for dinner.  We went back to our room and cleaned up a bit.  Nothing like a sunscreen and bug-spray cocktail to make you want to scrub your skin twice! 

Nearly time for comida, though. Go ahead and check out Our Photo Album.  

But you’ll never forget it!

After lunch, it was nap time.  Cas isn’t much of a napper, but he gave it a shot today.  We both flopped on a mattress and stood up 30 minutes later, and that was perfect.  That put us just in time to get dressed and ready for our trip to visit the Yagua people.  They are the indigenous tribe of the Peruvian Amazon, and they were all decked out in traditional tribal attire.  We went from the boat to their communal meeting space where we saw a demonstration of how a traditional Yagua beverage is made, how they make blow-dart-launching tubes and how they dance and celebrate.  We were instructed that, after they danced once, we’d be expected to dance with them.  Who am I to decline?  Especially when the boy who asked me to dance was about the cutest grass-skirt-wearing six or seven year old there.  Mini indigenous Fred Astaire.  

From there, we went to see a demonstration of blow-dart hunting, and Cas got to give it a go.  He was pretty good.  There’s a video in the ol’ photo album, if you want to have a look.  He hit the mark.  If we had to rely on Cas to hunt up some dinner with a blow dart, we’d be just fine.  For extra fun, we each got a chance to hang on to a sloth, as well.  

First time for everything, I guess.  The Yagua village was pretty interesting, and just about when it was time to leave, the rainforest started raining.  Who didn’t see that coming, right?  We stood under a few of the Yagua’s thatched roof shelters for a bit and marveled at the efficiency of the leaf-built roofs at keeping the rain away, then we all decided to go ahead and brave the rain to get back to our lodge.  Wow, we got wet.  The boat ride back was really fast, and probobly only took about 15 minutes, but it sure felt longer.  When the boat unloaded, everyone shuffled back to their respective rooms to spend the two hours between our return and our dinner drying off.  I know I won’t be forgetting that ride anytime soon.  I doubt anyone else will, either.  Cas and I are morning shower enthusiasts but we made an exception today.  A shower in the middle of a jungle is magical.  I can’t explain it any better than that.  

We met the group for dinner and that just wrapped up.  There was supposed to be an optional after-dark hike today, but the ground is too slippery for walking about in the dark, and nobody has dry things they’d wear on a hike at the moment, so that went out the window.  Good enough, if you ask me.  We have a big adventure at something called the Canopy Walkway tomorrow and a visit after lunch with a tribal shaman who knows how to make lots of different medicines from different things in the jungle.  Get your orders in now if you want a cure for something, and I will ask the shaman!  In the meantime, check out Our Photo Album.