tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20346969882279244582024-02-22T01:49:04.995-08:00Away We GoWe're off to see what we can see...Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-40729316632649651612008-06-24T08:30:00.000-07:002008-12-05T13:47:55.944-08:00Home Sweet San Francisco<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdete9rGbthwH-cnqnSf1p5onK9TIfUgRbVtF00iR_VNyKc7NGGNr9_zJdstHHO2X72panLNrOXRcuF9qrtudBnapGk0VAZJyPIOWyIE7x540Wm-C0UgC12Nae8_823hMVcUjfgWuyudk/s1600-h/Flying+Into+SFO.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272848656636210034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdete9rGbthwH-cnqnSf1p5onK9TIfUgRbVtF00iR_VNyKc7NGGNr9_zJdstHHO2X72panLNrOXRcuF9qrtudBnapGk0VAZJyPIOWyIE7x540Wm-C0UgC12Nae8_823hMVcUjfgWuyudk/s320/Flying+Into+SFO.JPG" border="0" /></a> How can it be that our year is over? Alas, all good things must come to an end. Or at least a temporary hiatus until our next adventure. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU71Huc0itWuhNr1t26IPJi_kKKFRcRvPq0X1U95uIBd93j1WfhTYe5_lFpWffS-QjfTpSvHjaVrTwV5WzyJZ7byGvyO4jUZFWKwftReVnnPwsyHHnpSzzHpVb6n1CgWCT866UpOc5VBw/s1600-h/IMG_4954.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272847339584118530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU71Huc0itWuhNr1t26IPJi_kKKFRcRvPq0X1U95uIBd93j1WfhTYe5_lFpWffS-QjfTpSvHjaVrTwV5WzyJZ7byGvyO4jUZFWKwftReVnnPwsyHHnpSzzHpVb6n1CgWCT866UpOc5VBw/s320/IMG_4954.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />That being said, being back in San Francisco isn't so bad: friends and family and capybara-sized burritos make settling down feel more like settling in. And we do hope that all those we met along the way will come crash on our couch and drink our wine and regale us with tales. In the meantime, we're going to exaggerate our own stories of derring-do for all those that will listen.<br /><br />But as a fitting end to our traveler's tales, it should be noted that Eric's last haircut around the world took place in our bathroom. Goodbye beard, hello job. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvUDMjp48_cV_eHYLcIkI8OtrbXq-dh8QY96qDo-4YLynW6cY8XOkF7Q7GD4MwUcML_D7gTS1xHTy_Iu7JLoOrtYkl113a1TFahMsp_7zQDn09UxZE3gSt3nv5OxZoydXv0JTCDBZKZ8/s1600-h/20080624_IMG_354.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217553963567633362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvUDMjp48_cV_eHYLcIkI8OtrbXq-dh8QY96qDo-4YLynW6cY8XOkF7Q7GD4MwUcML_D7gTS1xHTy_Iu7JLoOrtYkl113a1TFahMsp_7zQDn09UxZE3gSt3nv5OxZoydXv0JTCDBZKZ8/s320/20080624_IMG_354.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>We also wanted to make a small plug for two organizations that have captured our hearts post-trip. There are so many people doing wonderful things around the world to alleviate poverty, provide opportunities, and do good in this world, and they all should be applauded. We feel blessed to have had the chance to galivant around the globe for a short while, and our trip did much to impress upon us how lucky we are to have the resources we do. In an effort to give back, we've embraced the efforts of Kiva.org and RoomtoRead.org, both of whom are making huge strides to make this world a better place for all that occupy it. We encourage you to get involved if you feel so inclined.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii13R1b55ubOJ8k-imphVIE5W6yrF9D4ZEBG1jUOHkUBbZiR2XC2X2x9Yjffvaf41sTmD8qGLjuGliVCr4jTFyvjmihvOYYUmJnZvrvxZeWzJCDFKxNYAaxgJJWFnsDrpHffI2QXo9OxU/s1600-h/IMG_5462.JPG"></a>Thanks for reading and armchair traveling with us. We'll look forward to seeing you out on the road in the future.... </div></div></div></div></div></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-44525249409343234542008-03-26T01:15:00.000-07:002008-12-05T13:47:34.291-08:00Hawaii! The First Step Toward Home<div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfl33qs5Hq5l16skFCoa7anMTq2WyAx4osTFqTQ82854nf8yNOqd2CviXAgTSV2c0YoWGmRvRpjU95uAvHCFReBRdSvPlRLSIZnmFOUlrmCqwY2bRIOW5ngCsFUBjqjNoLAPAy0f5yirc/s1600-h/IMG_5292.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272845872654753394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfl33qs5Hq5l16skFCoa7anMTq2WyAx4osTFqTQ82854nf8yNOqd2CviXAgTSV2c0YoWGmRvRpjU95uAvHCFReBRdSvPlRLSIZnmFOUlrmCqwY2bRIOW5ngCsFUBjqjNoLAPAy0f5yirc/s320/IMG_5292.JPG" border="0" /></a>Aloha! The first leg of our journey homeward was a Hawaiian foray with friends and family. The perfect way to ease back into the U.S. of A.! We first landed on the Big Island, where we were greeted by Kathleen's family, and.... best yet... little Ellie, the 10-month old wunderniece that we'd been missing terribly. It was a glorious reunion, made all the more picture-perfect with tropical sunsets, ample mai-tai's and Ellie's motorboat sounds in the pool. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26kHzig7dIQ3Ibfi2bpmzdKaAywPTd9u4Oj0c3A8umwWawWZE6TETlj3B1lTr6DWDJP4kGvn-tEFAVVTwk7C3So2UCZcnOOrs2wqoD6N09pXL9RPgvlP3OLSKSNG7gf-ezfKlWMKMv4g/s1600-h/80.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272845856694861634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26kHzig7dIQ3Ibfi2bpmzdKaAywPTd9u4Oj0c3A8umwWawWZE6TETlj3B1lTr6DWDJP4kGvn-tEFAVVTwk7C3So2UCZcnOOrs2wqoD6N09pXL9RPgvlP3OLSKSNG7gf-ezfKlWMKMv4g/s320/80.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We next alighted for Kauai to celebrate our friend Dan's 40th. What can be better than having some of your nearest and dearest friends all transported to paradise together? Really, nothing. Although the sunsets, snorkeling, ample mai-tai's, and moonlit ocean swims didn't hurt. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7U-Dk4mJC8P8yeqGYEwPhCY8FaAvj7xyVUmLq13TCXsB3oJUYfEb4m_1zQN7pWa4AVWyzRsAS7ERFLiTmvejDO3I7ZATzo52-GDFQzUX0Py1JcjplA4wTy1oD2Z8D602nVtbFGtMCik/s1600-h/IMG_5123.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272845865581268722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7U-Dk4mJC8P8yeqGYEwPhCY8FaAvj7xyVUmLq13TCXsB3oJUYfEb4m_1zQN7pWa4AVWyzRsAS7ERFLiTmvejDO3I7ZATzo52-GDFQzUX0Py1JcjplA4wTy1oD2Z8D602nVtbFGtMCik/s320/IMG_5123.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8TwAK29FWwI5OT6nq3kxI_gFN5QSJIP8oiw9Yfd0KloL3UpQ-PKy8ZndzjUR0fldvJcZriDjNaJs7adqIkaccpsnMPq7kdEBlI0nlwCmr2ZkFnlafokdGGmgTVpZv-nd5x5AO4Zumjo/s1600-h/IMG_5149.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272845868632074754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8TwAK29FWwI5OT6nq3kxI_gFN5QSJIP8oiw9Yfd0KloL3UpQ-PKy8ZndzjUR0fldvJcZriDjNaJs7adqIkaccpsnMPq7kdEBlI0nlwCmr2ZkFnlafokdGGmgTVpZv-nd5x5AO4Zumjo/s320/IMG_5149.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And to end our tropical escape, we decided to re-hike the Na Pali Coast's Kalalau trail that we first endeavored on our honeymoon in June 2007. This time we brought good friends with us, but not nearly enough whiskey. As such, we're not entirely convinced our pals would hike it again. Alas, the waterfall helped considerably. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxPgjWCccoj32j9xFmivCyQcyHw71urdDzeK_H47Rds6svVE1CpLL39C5xln-97b_xDVkxaf_mQqhOM9dNtFV2rhReHmIvsGZxPRzlvZqrkf3sFUuZp_yFG7Tfu8bExUVHSIgEJlXQWc/s1600-h/IMG_5311.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272845877249483858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxPgjWCccoj32j9xFmivCyQcyHw71urdDzeK_H47Rds6svVE1CpLL39C5xln-97b_xDVkxaf_mQqhOM9dNtFV2rhReHmIvsGZxPRzlvZqrkf3sFUuZp_yFG7Tfu8bExUVHSIgEJlXQWc/s320/IMG_5311.JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-82698096787317038732008-03-07T20:30:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:18:38.404-07:00Haircuts Around The World: Bolivia - The Final Adventure<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQINjWC7OmuLIkfkSdTq-QlZXsq_-tT1fDAOKLsTYLSeOvkO9Ejg9plN33Adx_KNOfzYfZ7qaV2rsZl0RpE2NYUm7xJDY6bufPGJlTNqubh0v_JVIFdoDP4NyZSvErRnDwDj7QtZZ_eCQ/s1600-h/IMG_4948.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190122371778151186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQINjWC7OmuLIkfkSdTq-QlZXsq_-tT1fDAOKLsTYLSeOvkO9Ejg9plN33Adx_KNOfzYfZ7qaV2rsZl0RpE2NYUm7xJDY6bufPGJlTNqubh0v_JVIFdoDP4NyZSvErRnDwDj7QtZZ_eCQ/s320/IMG_4948.jpg" border="0" /></a>It was our last night in Bolivia. We finished shopping for gifts and souvenirs, made a quick run to find a brewpub, and then we walked down to haircut alley near our hotel in La Paz. There were a good 20 places to choose from, and I made sure, much to Kathleen's frustration, that we walked by all of them. It takes a trained eye to spot (in less than a few seconds) the differences that could make or break my haircut. Disaster is always right around the corner. And this was going to be my welcome home hairdo. What immediately caught my eye were the pictures/posters of Kurt Cobain, Leonardo Dicaprio and 'N Sync on the wall. If these folks got their hair cuts here, it must be good. We walked in, I sat down, and the magic unfolded.<br /><br />The first surprise was that he lit a flame to sanitize the blades and heat them up. He later used the same flame to heat up some oil (at least that is what it looked like) that was mixed into the shaving cream. It was a careful cut on top with just the blade (no guard) and it looked amazing. He took great attention with the beard, including the use of a straight edge and shaving cream. It was quite a magical experience and a wonderful way to end the Haircuts Around the World adventure. Overall this was a 9 out of 10.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ET49Gbvf6-xtKfUAn_X1YSvh02R99mmGHNvc7su8-uYlsMKjG16ctLEinOHpFBm-A6tV6m9fGVhMuCnHqNcYaBuUr-Rrquj9jy_VczfoxiDM34q84GZfovWaAWP6twVeD5jg1u7lnuY/s1600-h/IMG_4950.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190122367483183858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ET49Gbvf6-xtKfUAn_X1YSvh02R99mmGHNvc7su8-uYlsMKjG16ctLEinOHpFBm-A6tV6m9fGVhMuCnHqNcYaBuUr-Rrquj9jy_VczfoxiDM34q84GZfovWaAWP6twVeD5jg1u7lnuY/s320/IMG_4950.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYDWhCCZnGaAj5tha2pN1d25zzQS6F3ecaLQyospJVxkK9kJe2mVO02xl-Ufz4ddXYnDPywjC5_7GqJ72ymsj7S3uTmg0J8V2YrDjLNMpfRXsne5lr71QHMHTKCF81YbhXq-jbF9Asok/s1600-h/IMG_4949.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190122367483183874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYDWhCCZnGaAj5tha2pN1d25zzQS6F3ecaLQyospJVxkK9kJe2mVO02xl-Ufz4ddXYnDPywjC5_7GqJ72ymsj7S3uTmg0J8V2YrDjLNMpfRXsne5lr71QHMHTKCF81YbhXq-jbF9Asok/s320/IMG_4949.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-10211007927188631322008-03-06T14:24:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:18:24.354-07:00Bolivia: La Paz<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClzZ4pDSLUwbsbFFDKDh_8gV2iqVj4vuB9NDzVpG2UiWJ4AuonLJyL1ZJyJwcR6gPvLw8v8nyznZMmBwkiEQHKANoTSJMbH_ZKF0QbMFAF4pkRz5q1tnYYwqjUJMie-HMmkeHnq-oS3A/s1600-h/IMG_4798.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174876209132530034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClzZ4pDSLUwbsbFFDKDh_8gV2iqVj4vuB9NDzVpG2UiWJ4AuonLJyL1ZJyJwcR6gPvLw8v8nyznZMmBwkiEQHKANoTSJMbH_ZKF0QbMFAF4pkRz5q1tnYYwqjUJMie-HMmkeHnq-oS3A/s320/IMG_4798.jpg" border="0" /></a>The pollution, poverty, and chaos of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">La Paz</st1:place></st1:city> keep it from being wholly lovable in the grandest sense, but that’s not to say that it’s without charm. You just have to scratch a bit below the surface and have the time and lungs to give the city the benefit of the doubt. Amidst the grime and traffic lurk fantastic restaurants, colorful bars, and a vibrant student life. On a clear day, <st1:city st="on">La Paz</st1:city> enjoys some crazy great views of <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Mt.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Illimani</st1:placename></st1:place>. And even in this heavily industrialized and modernized city, traditional Bolivian dress remains a colorful constant.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlDKatSA-7sBXbfjQhLiLoxyZXRkIZ5mJ3llt4uvRDQP1eJDMKsZ4ZttqUF91rIdJKctW3Igzeo7w-_BNaEf3_f-Ne1JI2KAFmMINdnuY6JFoT9XvNNO1xpiJP2uvhGR-mTKYqnX-1vM/s1600-h/IMG_4692.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174876316506712466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlDKatSA-7sBXbfjQhLiLoxyZXRkIZ5mJ3llt4uvRDQP1eJDMKsZ4ZttqUF91rIdJKctW3Igzeo7w-_BNaEf3_f-Ne1JI2KAFmMINdnuY6JFoT9XvNNO1xpiJP2uvhGR-mTKYqnX-1vM/s320/IMG_4692.jpg" border="0" /></a> Indeed color is the much-needed antidote to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">La Paz</st1:place></st1:city>’s often gray air. Luckily frequent street parades and vibrant <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">micros </span>(gravity-defying public buses that chug and belch along the steep city streets) add flair.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWUKUCNT-vTlHtr3A-lEpNpW7EDc_Rp-uq_gfpyYh9Oar1N9jXEsp8JZHiJTJaoyXEJmwDWWg5Bm3rU5_0ipKeu9Yhvc7JNMqp6oW5AObTKXXrjHCXXtKALYGZCIVCDrSaGw-MlL6fvk/s1600-h/IMG_4697.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174876217722464642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWUKUCNT-vTlHtr3A-lEpNpW7EDc_Rp-uq_gfpyYh9Oar1N9jXEsp8JZHiJTJaoyXEJmwDWWg5Bm3rU5_0ipKeu9Yhvc7JNMqp6oW5AObTKXXrjHCXXtKALYGZCIVCDrSaGw-MlL6fvk/s320/IMG_4697.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">The witch’s market is a <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXJedLKeIKxKz-AA1q3MPFB9ZEYA3vmuq6n_6O8x61QM2WDW5RIm-YOSRO0-82Q86O_lhQ-zyyx0v41SFPsm9Ts3ApvlN0fWMPNT5AxLAGO_gVLSko0qacpVREfW1GmMVNC2HQdaP7xU/s1600-h/IMG_4941.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174876200542595410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXJedLKeIKxKz-AA1q3MPFB9ZEYA3vmuq6n_6O8x61QM2WDW5RIm-YOSRO0-82Q86O_lhQ-zyyx0v41SFPsm9Ts3ApvlN0fWMPNT5AxLAGO_gVLSko0qacpVREfW1GmMVNC2HQdaP7xU/s320/IMG_4941.jpg" border="0" /></a>camera-toter’s favorite, where gringos can ogle traditional remedies like llama fetuses meant to be buried under new houses to bring good luck. <span style="font-size:+0;"></span>But despite the open-jawed tourists, this is the real deal: witch doctors and fortune tellers ply their wares and skills on the street for locals in search of healing or hexing.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And despite the somewhat insane vehicular sparring on the crowded roads, we did see this handy fellow monitoring pedestrian flow on the crosswalks, called zebra crossings in this neck of the woods.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqr_d8K1jtEZejsocwVwzxvFoqTaFrHBBx9RRjqOR6hDRqH8KyN-Z5pauvMC3EOwEX5yY8OH1MYW8h-0oi4WkriUK3TLM9gBQ8LvWppj0MeXIK0gyclWRSVm3TVAejdIO7hx99YxkFVM/s1600-h/IMG_4944.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174876196247628098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqr_d8K1jtEZejsocwVwzxvFoqTaFrHBBx9RRjqOR6hDRqH8KyN-Z5pauvMC3EOwEX5yY8OH1MYW8h-0oi4WkriUK3TLM9gBQ8LvWppj0MeXIK0gyclWRSVm3TVAejdIO7hx99YxkFVM/s320/IMG_4944.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnOw7DTdBWzUYSvVKCSTNFfj2GzHMYzSdYj5reNi9v6aQCQ_4TbWaQhnVWzHHaf2-QJFh7_lWw3KNEYG57ArXdoBRmKNmbdIG4q5fvdE9gZx3lVAawmGVeJD33JQ-mZbNIRTkVrM5WKQ/s1600-h/IMG_4935.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174876204837562722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnOw7DTdBWzUYSvVKCSTNFfj2GzHMYzSdYj5reNi9v6aQCQ_4TbWaQhnVWzHHaf2-QJFh7_lWw3KNEYG57ArXdoBRmKNmbdIG4q5fvdE9gZx3lVAawmGVeJD33JQ-mZbNIRTkVrM5WKQ/s320/IMG_4935.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-28668063597540503102008-03-05T22:41:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:18:14.964-07:00Things We Ate On The Street: Bolivia<?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Bolivian street</st1:address></st1:street> food was oh-so-good to us that we have come up with some awards for our favorite delicacies.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAIiEJebDKRFO0lWIsRa9qtaHHwUJ59xTIeFbhiF-ejyQHQ6UhnJlOrMfeOVXEj9nNBe9JBfvnmwyvYwOJVpEK2bCvGOAhonKMBL28qTObvIxHxycCZkBg6KOSpu9Bwtj9WoxC7TxLBw/s1600-h/IMG_4543.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886731802405426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAIiEJebDKRFO0lWIsRa9qtaHHwUJ59xTIeFbhiF-ejyQHQ6UhnJlOrMfeOVXEj9nNBe9JBfvnmwyvYwOJVpEK2bCvGOAhonKMBL28qTObvIxHxycCZkBg6KOSpu9Bwtj9WoxC7TxLBw/s320/IMG_4543.jpg" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>Grand prize snackmaster winner:</b> The snack to end all snacks was the saltena. No other street fare has come even close (except for <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Uganda</st1:country-region></st1:place>’s chapati, which we still drool over in our sleep). The name comes from their original place of origin: <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Salta</st1:city>, <st1:country-region st="on">Argentina</st1:country-region></st1:place>. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhErd8LsGiBIyDXAfs8qXyuiZ4Sp3R-LQtK4rAOerdyNBGtcuewIkUFLoTqsAx-PRsNLkz6xWIfK3j0rVOa_Dses4d6vOWPdie6yIhgOiNP3mEYhb19Maqteo7sCy64cf7Wom4FKiCniOY/s1600-h/IMG_4585.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886727507438114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhErd8LsGiBIyDXAfs8qXyuiZ4Sp3R-LQtK4rAOerdyNBGtcuewIkUFLoTqsAx-PRsNLkz6xWIfK3j0rVOa_Dses4d6vOWPdie6yIhgOiNP3mEYhb19Maqteo7sCy64cf7Wom4FKiCniOY/s320/IMG_4585.jpg" border="0" /></a>But today, they are a purely Bolivian treat. Calling them a derivation of an empanada doesn’t do them justice. The outer baked dough is slightly sweet and envelops an inner filling of chicken, beef or veggies, all liberally dosed with a drippy, slurpy, secret sauce of intoxicating goodness. </p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWrvDOwvlUT09bW0hbjPBmH21M6-ydFCxIH-AIHKJsJzteq4bEb34KCTK-fk43Pd0-5rYJmafdw3MguHt49h4ENjAPNXi9EXhBHl_J1G5CZCPJFuCvjpBcoumNgAp6Q123RT94EnlBCU/s1600-h/IMG_4467.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886804816849474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWrvDOwvlUT09bW0hbjPBmH21M6-ydFCxIH-AIHKJsJzteq4bEb34KCTK-fk43Pd0-5rYJmafdw3MguHt49h4ENjAPNXi9EXhBHl_J1G5CZCPJFuCvjpBcoumNgAp6Q123RT94EnlBCU/s320/IMG_4467.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">They are usually only available mid-morning and completely worth dragging yourself out of bed. We did extensive research and found the most delicious ones were in <st1:city st="on">Potosi</st1:city> and at artisanal saltenerias in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">La Paz</st1:place></st1:city>. But really you should eat them wherever you are, as often as you can.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChAMloPDHFCgQvqbM10dO8FIklcUrPn4Z9xBIJANFuYKXQLp5MyR3_KABUZ1Cw2J_7Z8xQGaALfcI0ATrfra3W2iwcS69FgTnMC-NUSZI9LYCDm0Y6ZR8OcUVGREtLraV_hTy9Rn5tno/s1600-h/IMG_4695.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886714622536178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChAMloPDHFCgQvqbM10dO8FIklcUrPn4Z9xBIJANFuYKXQLp5MyR3_KABUZ1Cw2J_7Z8xQGaALfcI0ATrfra3W2iwcS69FgTnMC-NUSZI9LYCDm0Y6ZR8OcUVGREtLraV_hTy9Rn5tno/s320/IMG_4695.jpg" border="0" /></a><b>Most abnormally large fruit that still tastes normal:</b> Check out that avocado! It’s as big as Kathleen’s head! And that’s only a quarter of it. <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Bolivia</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s fruits and veggies were great. As, surprisingly, was the red wine from Tarija. Cheers!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Best shopping experience</b>: We read about an order of cloistered nuns who sell pickled fruit through a revolving door at their convent, and we couldn’t resist the intrigue. Sure enough, you knock on the door, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfhfIJjrH7UUyJ_Qf9aWNkVbtFVLqwZaSHvIcNcb8Ea2uZi35Zk2zQN9MjC5Nko2XMc2Cd7Q2yMDoXDYpzHzOZgVuW1_4X2cwHxN5rG5JOrYdObNSmig6qflRHs8iZ48rVk9SSudMkxk/s1600-h/IMG_4634.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886723212470802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfhfIJjrH7UUyJ_Qf9aWNkVbtFVLqwZaSHvIcNcb8Ea2uZi35Zk2zQN9MjC5Nko2XMc2Cd7Q2yMDoXDYpzHzOZgVuW1_4X2cwHxN5rG5JOrYdObNSmig6qflRHs8iZ48rVk9SSudMkxk/s320/IMG_4634.jpg" border="0" /></a>politely ask the hidden Sister if you might buy some pickled lemons, let your money be spun away from you, and await your heavenly treat. The lemons themselves were a bit sweet on their own, but would have been delightful over ice-cream had we had some.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ftZb9T7hWw84M_PrtmK0YWozQ_Km7ztnPq71Iqcur7QQhguV2kb9pgiD4mxE9NEQNzS7bCCLleb4cuOTTJ74TxKEO0e0aImNkjut33EDTEyi_j3CVOXkwXnAH_RV1wYleYe3-5twHFk/s1600-h/IMG_4635.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886718917503490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ftZb9T7hWw84M_PrtmK0YWozQ_Km7ztnPq71Iqcur7QQhguV2kb9pgiD4mxE9NEQNzS7bCCLleb4cuOTTJ74TxKEO0e0aImNkjut33EDTEyi_j3CVOXkwXnAH_RV1wYleYe3-5twHFk/s320/IMG_4635.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Best Fresh Vitamin C:</b> Oh beloved grapefruit squeezer, how we adored you! Tart and delicious!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZ1xLdM43XkA94NtDGYet8u8LGCaEz5dFTrHmkCfsnBsn5QTHQMBdulgIUYfPDYss2SWCznFtO969TDPhsTh9cZyDG_wIKdMzLKUrrk25RnXxugenL5yR97TW8nHkZu33rsSHYnpkZP8/s1600-h/IMG_4945.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886456924498354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZ1xLdM43XkA94NtDGYet8u8LGCaEz5dFTrHmkCfsnBsn5QTHQMBdulgIUYfPDYss2SWCznFtO969TDPhsTh9cZyDG_wIKdMzLKUrrk25RnXxugenL5yR97TW8nHkZu33rsSHYnpkZP8/s320/IMG_4945.jpg" border="0" /></a> And you reminded us of the sugar cane press in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Egypt</st1:country-region></st1:place> that was such a hit. Worth noting is that Eric was not actually allowed to operate the machinery. They have professionals for that. <span style="font-size:+0;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Best salty snack:</b> Oh when the cold breeze whips down your jacket, there’s nothing like some hot buttered popcorn on your way home. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeh1trGn47AAD0xRAXun1WZqIbzyG636At9IIZIb5dKy5OFF8iBqzF__zmWzuSNK6VrLb2SdwYSSEWr3apS72PEK3MaZf7OEFmxd_ROmtRpjJm2CFHU1uSbJGVG2ZSwN42SkU0dEreXA/s1600-h/IMG_4947.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886452629531042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeh1trGn47AAD0xRAXun1WZqIbzyG636At9IIZIb5dKy5OFF8iBqzF__zmWzuSNK6VrLb2SdwYSSEWr3apS72PEK3MaZf7OEFmxd_ROmtRpjJm2CFHU1uSbJGVG2ZSwN42SkU0dEreXA/s320/IMG_4947.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Best snack that looked like dog food:</b> Giant puffed maize. Sold in giant plastic sacks. For giant-sized hunger!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VAM8ClBHHJK2RR8sk-pHx6ISRTyZJtqrxuFAQn43ESP2qOfle5oh-ma54h5Y9dfMnwhmcvkPi_xpGzniEE4KNRaFc0nJECK5iM-stfNDVQ_kuVecOLa2OeXCb-TEOF5qn3qTuGLWvhE/s1600-h/IMG_4927.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886461219465666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VAM8ClBHHJK2RR8sk-pHx6ISRTyZJtqrxuFAQn43ESP2qOfle5oh-ma54h5Y9dfMnwhmcvkPi_xpGzniEE4KNRaFc0nJECK5iM-stfNDVQ_kuVecOLa2OeXCb-TEOF5qn3qTuGLWvhE/s320/IMG_4927.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Best medicinal snack:</b> Chewing coca leaves saved us on many a high-altitude endeavor, as they warded off headaches, fatigue, and hunger. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglUc6BU4H5QNQsooL-Hng7iFpolmsVLywHhOCkZ2xVgQyJoAWPL7NzhYauvXb48fS6Qoes9a6OjPE__CmbLQlkh0phUEiqYiV4J-JVxpRK3gnqiDfI0yBdHQ0yuGqCkC8lw3XZDg9W8M/s1600-h/IMG_4810.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886461219465682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglUc6BU4H5QNQsooL-Hng7iFpolmsVLywHhOCkZ2xVgQyJoAWPL7NzhYauvXb48fS6Qoes9a6OjPE__CmbLQlkh0phUEiqYiV4J-JVxpRK3gnqiDfI0yBdHQ0yuGqCkC8lw3XZDg9W8M/s320/IMG_4810.jpg" border="0" /></a>You simply wad a bunch of them between your cheek and gum, and swallow the juice as you traipse along. Adding an alkaloid like lime ash (which is similar to a small rock) helps draw out the medicinal benefits. The beneficial effects of coca leaf chewing are well documented, but the plant remains hugely controversial for obvious reasons (i.e. it’s lucrative derivative cocaine). The <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region>, among others, is always wanting to eradicate coca fields and ties political favors to the success of ending the war on drugs. It’s a shame, as coca leaves play an important role historically, spiritually, and practically in the lives of most Bolivians (and indeed most Andean countries). Politically it’s a hot issue, and t-shirts proclaiming (in Spanish) that coca leaves are not a drug are hugely popular among the backpacking set.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Most unlikely place to get chocolate: </b>Who knew that Ghirardelli’s came from the jungle? Well, probably a lot of people, actually. But still, it was fun to see cacao in its original pod form hanging from a tree. Crack that baby open to reveal a squishy mass of hard seeds (the cacao beans) nestled in white slime. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQpWUGh08Bnm0LL4uMXHFvWv8Hv-KJMdQqmIJXpo9m6XWqZ9eVlSdEWOiietl93NXYxaNWsG5RLPKd3jap78zm7KaY9a2Z2QjbtQQMYCwarcc53ypkbI6ocniLs6am5QdpgzJlLSHvDo/s1600-h/IMG_4749.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174886465514432994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQpWUGh08Bnm0LL4uMXHFvWv8Hv-KJMdQqmIJXpo9m6XWqZ9eVlSdEWOiietl93NXYxaNWsG5RLPKd3jap78zm7KaY9a2Z2QjbtQQMYCwarcc53ypkbI6ocniLs6am5QdpgzJlLSHvDo/s320/IMG_4749.jpg" border="0" /></a>Really, much tastier than it sounds, as you slurp off the goo to suck on the bean.</p><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWrvDOwvlUT09bW0hbjPBmH21M6-ydFCxIH-AIHKJsJzteq4bEb34KCTK-fk43Pd0-5rYJmafdw3MguHt49h4ENjAPNXi9EXhBHl_J1G5CZCPJFuCvjpBcoumNgAp6Q123RT94EnlBCU/s1600-h/IMG_4467.jpg"><br /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-68099291782325271102008-03-03T14:23:00.001-08:002008-08-12T17:18:01.972-07:00Bolivia: Lake Titicaca<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjvB52bp3dYX0st2xNi553CzXGvUEriu7EfiGnq56t1Fv7hCplwY-LUEViNjX1nghTTzgBqkVZjOZ9kjGaoWsdXx4_zeW74V_wL7YUlWRJBEY6YfisF_CLIa-hxLjvosGv63j14DT1W0/s1600-h/IMG_4820.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875603542141202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjvB52bp3dYX0st2xNi553CzXGvUEriu7EfiGnq56t1Fv7hCplwY-LUEViNjX1nghTTzgBqkVZjOZ9kjGaoWsdXx4_zeW74V_wL7YUlWRJBEY6YfisF_CLIa-hxLjvosGv63j14DT1W0/s320/IMG_4820.jpg" border="0" /></a>Funny to be scrounging for blankets less than 24 hours after we were kicking off thin sheets in the heat. Such is the contrast of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Bolivia</st1:place></st1:country-region>. A whirlwind combo of small plane, free-wheeling taxi, and overcrowded minibus deposited us in Copacabana in the moonlight. The minibus segment was the most fun, as we were the only non-Bolivians (save for one Spaniard) en route (perhaps because the Lonely Planet mentions that minibuses are unsafe between La Paz and Copacabana--- a fact we didn’t read until *after* we landed. Oh well). We had a bag of peanuts with us that we offered around, and it’s always such fun to see how food invites a shared community. In no time, people are slapping you on the back, grinning widely, sharing stories, and little kids want to sit in your lap. Just think if we’d had beer to pass around!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p>Going from sea level to 13,200 feet meant that sleep did not come easily. The next day, we explored the town’s Cathedral, most notable for its Virgin. </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT2OsULKJPztlFuOx5p5KyjX2nJLnb11zXROHRNURumljpRFZRXD5EofFE6zYFtFBmcVc7M-wQoxixjtDX36qO3FoH0AHq6RdqF1Xop16S3Q2Ge3DEI7Oe1E0tLscXh0sFRlAI8XLoVE/s1600-h/IMG_4818.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875728096192802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT2OsULKJPztlFuOx5p5KyjX2nJLnb11zXROHRNURumljpRFZRXD5EofFE6zYFtFBmcVc7M-wQoxixjtDX36qO3FoH0AHq6RdqF1Xop16S3Q2Ge3DEI7Oe1E0tLscXh0sFRlAI8XLoVE/s320/IMG_4818.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Evidently she was carved by a descendant of one of the last Inca warriors. Albeit the artist’s first attempt was rejected and he had to go back for some schooling before providing the current Virgin. She is a sight to behold, mostly for the reverence surrounding her. Ever since she was brought to the altar, miracles have occurred and great mystery and spirituality surrounds her. She is known as the ‘black virgin’ although we must admit she looked pretty pale to us. In any case, she resides upstairs in the cathedral, in a beautiful room decked out with lights, flowers, and a hushed group of devoted believers. The thought is that if she’s ever moved, there will be a flood. Also of note, are the lines of decorated cars parked outside the cathedral. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pjPv3-HepdfpXmSOLZPuhF2NeBcLnmS0j3_TMW091PxJz9nkofhRkhXKHTZve99LphOLRz0iAoYr2163Akv-3PuPFUGU-KEsBSfnSzkdPllYhxjYJsUoKeiEeS80qx0i-AoroiGRkEQ/s1600-h/IMG_4801.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875736686127410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pjPv3-HepdfpXmSOLZPuhF2NeBcLnmS0j3_TMW091PxJz9nkofhRkhXKHTZve99LphOLRz0iAoYr2163Akv-3PuPFUGU-KEsBSfnSzkdPllYhxjYJsUoKeiEeS80qx0i-AoroiGRkEQ/s320/IMG_4801.jpg" border="0" /></a>They come for the blessing of the automobiles, a ritual whereby alcohol is poured over the cars to ensure a safe journey home. Better than drinking it before hopping behind the wheel, we suppose.</p><p class="MsoNormal">We next set sail for the Isla del Sol <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVbEuhcdw7irSlkiP_5wDKev0hNzKBbsJKWk07U_Wo4L75kNXUWy4_8jI1TgDNXFb8YBGRdjOVgPATMbMtkLN3Dn7JqKj8w3KPzkHbp71YIgEk8BFdbsvUc6Fx54VUX99uRIE-Jz0iVw/s1600-h/IMG_4898.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174874942117177506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVbEuhcdw7irSlkiP_5wDKev0hNzKBbsJKWk07U_Wo4L75kNXUWy4_8jI1TgDNXFb8YBGRdjOVgPATMbMtkLN3Dn7JqKj8w3KPzkHbp71YIgEk8BFdbsvUc6Fx54VUX99uRIE-Jz0iVw/s320/IMG_4898.jpg" border="0" /></a>on the world’s slowest motorboat. It’s quite possible we could have swum faster, but it was a lovely ride nonetheless as the snowcapped <st1:place st="on">Cordillera Real</st1:place> came into view. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFa7dMYB4I55H78gOwBg9bdivUAcjhie2tCgGIcxStU7h0bu5BBSdJZXJuIH0GMLPKkm5Mno7Rv8o5hI6PYUjBuNkpbMqGOvnfPFLdcZd__KcF9ioqx7279U-KN0lEGQuLd45gkmZ2-k/s1600-h/IMG_4840.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875594952206594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFa7dMYB4I55H78gOwBg9bdivUAcjhie2tCgGIcxStU7h0bu5BBSdJZXJuIH0GMLPKkm5Mno7Rv8o5hI6PYUjBuNkpbMqGOvnfPFLdcZd__KcF9ioqx7279U-KN0lEGQuLd45gkmZ2-k/s320/IMG_4840.jpg" border="0" /></a>As we disembarked off the gringo float, there were hoards of kids wanting to take your luggage and lead you to a hotel. They were low-pressure and harmless, but what was not so harmless was the gorgeous but STEEP Inca staircase that leads up to town. Bordered by a channeled waterfall (the Inca’s fountain of youth), the steps climb past terraced quinoa fields, handicraft sellers, braying donkeys, women doing their wash, and views that make you gasp from beauty as much as physical exertion. The island is resplendent with timeless Inca architectural ruins surrounded by the luminous blue lake. It’s quite striking. We enjoyed sunset views from a hilltop pizzeria, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMiLY3hreAslgYgSzUtddhQ8NpfHXS_uAFQwBAe7XL_4KZqu-yVfO13mbo5tqIDdU5hQOvQIX3gi_fLlLaqZib_dB6Ui8pRbF1T7T4rokqMN9Z778T39fzjKdKm5PDEk86rxVJRN8U4vI/s1600-h/IMG_4876.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875582067304674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMiLY3hreAslgYgSzUtddhQ8NpfHXS_uAFQwBAe7XL_4KZqu-yVfO13mbo5tqIDdU5hQOvQIX3gi_fLlLaqZib_dB6Ui8pRbF1T7T4rokqMN9Z778T39fzjKdKm5PDEk86rxVJRN8U4vI/s320/IMG_4876.jpg" border="0" /></a>watching distant (for now) rain and lightning as the sky burned orange under the clouds.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Isla del Sol is a walker’s paradise, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0zmqKRwQkP8FKx_y6Ak_mSnJaSzuY36j3WO7dwKS9RuwG2NZtReN6AR2Ul3NmxmYgnQMdQpZCwuMSTezh7sBDzWw2l8Wa8oWK3MRHpmPW3-B_CJ6c43ozRrExGv_QDCQ9UJUWsUXD2-o/s1600-h/IMG_4893.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875577772337362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0zmqKRwQkP8FKx_y6Ak_mSnJaSzuY36j3WO7dwKS9RuwG2NZtReN6AR2Ul3NmxmYgnQMdQpZCwuMSTezh7sBDzWw2l8Wa8oWK3MRHpmPW3-B_CJ6c43ozRrExGv_QDCQ9UJUWsUXD2-o/s320/IMG_4893.jpg" border="0" /></a>as long as you keep chewing coca leaves to ward off headaches. On the north side of the island are ruins with a labyrinth of rooms, nooks, crannies, sacrificial tables, and the sacred rock<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHeT3Cx-2QHrIB8b-xH3VtnaalZ-lyJL3hEYsrQRlDK6kDTaNkYgg4GTIAX6sjTXDq1lNKBq7YYkfuIR_hqYY4Q-0TPMKjCa57dJaUwfKXPO-qtrNXniCKlo5hyphenhyphenKjsddk29DWaaKYqEk/s1600-h/IMG_4899.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174874937822210194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHeT3Cx-2QHrIB8b-xH3VtnaalZ-lyJL3hEYsrQRlDK6kDTaNkYgg4GTIAX6sjTXDq1lNKBq7YYkfuIR_hqYY4Q-0TPMKjCa57dJaUwfKXPO-qtrNXniCKlo5hyphenhyphenKjsddk29DWaaKYqEk/s320/IMG_4899.jpg" border="0" /></a> (Titicaca: crouching puma) that the lake is named for. Wending our way back home, we weaved through small villages and farms, stopped for lunch and to watch hippies trying to sell jewelry, and hit the island’s big museum. And by big, we mean in earnestness. It’s actually just one small room, and the caretaker had to send his 11-year old son home to find the key to unlock it when we showed up. That being said, it did have it’s charm, as it’s devoted to the ‘submerged city’ north of the island where excavations in 2000 revealed a massive stone temple and accompanying treasures 8 meters underwater. The stuff of Indiana Jones, really!</p><p class="MsoNormal">Upon our departure, the rain finally arrived. In full force. And just in time for our half hour walk back down the slippery stairs to catch the ferry. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ77dGPbj6rjzOuU5rcsVZRnxqTXMHhyphenhyphenEMai2hnBD4eerv7JTR0fcb4XU9Bx6qSOZzUcKAuObazanpNxYvVg6J_gAvXZr_xrK15cEyqb0PROOcd8QwG1B0BIeHgUVIkY8ULOXCQyvZgLE/s1600-h/IMG_4924.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174874924937308274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ77dGPbj6rjzOuU5rcsVZRnxqTXMHhyphenhyphenEMai2hnBD4eerv7JTR0fcb4XU9Bx6qSOZzUcKAuObazanpNxYvVg6J_gAvXZr_xrK15cEyqb0PROOcd8QwG1B0BIeHgUVIkY8ULOXCQyvZgLE/s320/IMG_4924.jpg" border="0" /></a>Thank God for the plastic rainsuits we’ve been lugging around since <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">South Africa</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT2OsULKJPztlFuOx5p5KyjX2nJLnb11zXROHRNURumljpRFZRXD5EofFE6zYFtFBmcVc7M-wQoxixjtDX36qO3FoH0AHq6RdqF1Xop16S3Q2Ge3DEI7Oe1E0tLscXh0sFRlAI8XLoVE/s1600-h/IMG_4818.jpg"><br /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRXTccgUwDiHEdUWOSN44VT-oXuTWarrlfOYgZQH0NmtGa8_uEMVQLDFSJBcwK38DSqV8artu8bjg6pRexnP-YK-jP2hyphenhyphenmkTXC9-RHE1mXw7GiPOz2AbZHGZ5LHodIbCKvjJgvTdwaUA/s1600-h/IMG_4850.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174875586362271986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRXTccgUwDiHEdUWOSN44VT-oXuTWarrlfOYgZQH0NmtGa8_uEMVQLDFSJBcwK38DSqV8artu8bjg6pRexnP-YK-jP2hyphenhyphenmkTXC9-RHE1mXw7GiPOz2AbZHGZ5LHodIbCKvjJgvTdwaUA/s320/IMG_4850.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FNuei5MB3QWGx4p2QJUBq-qWFiZO9qfDWKrp7HvL6huJhjvJX_5hGZQO0FcZWjMaEgHwA4QfTU3qh62WJebQDOTBjJuaia6qLTr7Jp-oSdM5m_BQZwkE0ZeK8d2aIGWSrMPZyRu9wIQ/s1600-h/IMG_4910.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174874933527242882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FNuei5MB3QWGx4p2QJUBq-qWFiZO9qfDWKrp7HvL6huJhjvJX_5hGZQO0FcZWjMaEgHwA4QfTU3qh62WJebQDOTBjJuaia6qLTr7Jp-oSdM5m_BQZwkE0ZeK8d2aIGWSrMPZyRu9wIQ/s320/IMG_4910.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ4cLfedEs201K2vzItH7Ham77HSAAsjj8nVOZ3HXAraW5qh1eQCRZsPrnmkwNVVa9iYJxLO4xXVqQm3S6Jsw29zc0X3iccXe3TmwkTmW2peZ98f58o9Uzj6cVt0BNAqdfdrns59dlnNE/s1600-h/IMG_4896.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174874946412144818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ4cLfedEs201K2vzItH7Ham77HSAAsjj8nVOZ3HXAraW5qh1eQCRZsPrnmkwNVVa9iYJxLO4xXVqQm3S6Jsw29zc0X3iccXe3TmwkTmW2peZ98f58o9Uzj6cVt0BNAqdfdrns59dlnNE/s320/IMG_4896.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-38562134680943180012008-02-26T14:05:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:17:52.646-07:00Bolivia: Madidi National Park<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykJKImGuB7sgRFgaJtLYY86gVl3KY1SykfVJn1h9s8jO6DNgfRCi5btAct6KideLdTGu31cYeUy_JLO4YtKTXIkFea-esj7QBY4-fi_mYl_Yr_owG7xOf_GY_J7wPZhu-gvpVpsTmlBQ/s1600-h/IMG_4719.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174037646832756834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykJKImGuB7sgRFgaJtLYY86gVl3KY1SykfVJn1h9s8jO6DNgfRCi5btAct6KideLdTGu31cYeUy_JLO4YtKTXIkFea-esj7QBY4-fi_mYl_Yr_owG7xOf_GY_J7wPZhu-gvpVpsTmlBQ/s320/IMG_4719.jpg" border="0" /></a>Jungle fever! Being this close to the Amazon, we couldn`t resist a short foray into its green and rainy depths. Landing on a grassy landing strip in Rurrenebaque, our oxygen-deprived lungs breathed a happy sigh of relief at the low altitude, and we joyfully stripped off layers of fleece. The next morning, we motored up the fast-moving cappuccino-colored waters of an Amazon tributary to Chalalan Ecolodge. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBgGk91Qg3zEoTGTe__6Q1DTCmG1SdI7IvVxrw4kCvkOa1NlH8v-Lf7DjiBxc0W-FKpcVUcZzDKMwCEhUqgLNhrKJ2JWnFwWDjsdVe30ocW8tp7oCyMA1kAAnPU3XqJEpPfGOQXAdveo/s1600-h/IMG_4791.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174036787839297538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBgGk91Qg3zEoTGTe__6Q1DTCmG1SdI7IvVxrw4kCvkOa1NlH8v-Lf7DjiBxc0W-FKpcVUcZzDKMwCEhUqgLNhrKJ2JWnFwWDjsdVe30ocW8tp7oCyMA1kAAnPU3XqJEpPfGOQXAdveo/s320/IMG_4791.jpg" border="0" /></a>This place got big props from fellow travelers and rave reviews from the Lonely Planet, so we dug deep in our wallets to enjoy three glorious nights in jungle splendor.<br /><br />Chalalan's accolades are well merited, one of the few truly community-run eco-lodges in this rare swath of the Amazon, Chalalan makes the most of it's local flavor. Started in the 1990's by the neighboring community of San Jose De Uchupiamonas (say that three times fast), Chalalan is built by locals, with local materials, uses local guides, and proceeds have already funded a school and medical clinic. It's a beautiful spot and one of the few places where you can actually stay in Madidi National Park, near relatively untouched rainforest.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJk8I0H-zsrEazRAWfSjopQNzkURcnFz2jhYeNwQhY_tCyjl5YeeCXtsYxWOqFLjVsL3rrTxh5hco-mdQW94IyTV-et5Mh9uCRxHebfrBVSzFEN1R7C3QjNWPdeh_bqUGQj0XoaGQKR_o/s1600-h/IMG_4750.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174037642537789522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJk8I0H-zsrEazRAWfSjopQNzkURcnFz2jhYeNwQhY_tCyjl5YeeCXtsYxWOqFLjVsL3rrTxh5hco-mdQW94IyTV-et5Mh9uCRxHebfrBVSzFEN1R7C3QjNWPdeh_bqUGQj0XoaGQKR_o/s320/IMG_4750.jpg" border="0" /></a>We had a little paradisaical cabana with a requisite hammock out front, and we spent our days tromping through the National Park and sweating our way through our limited supply of clean clothes. Twilight meant beer and sunset swims in the Chalalan lake, braving the hopefully-sated appetites of the resident caymans. It was kind of funny to jump headfirst into the dark, but blissfully refreshing, water at dusk only to don headlamps and search for flesh-eating aquatic reptiles along the shore mere hours later. Really, that's only a slight exaggeration.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jOMtKrYXtGG1kMZIp60Lknl3FJmq01rOl3eiQGjs_W-LyhTlHCGAFHcA9NpAKSvbh0urxpfVShNcENkfMk3vDd5PhgmRcjIAbWSDH9xYF_MphJ5YVevecvxzmSlgkKrUE8xwH19WgsU/s1600-h/IMG_4771.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174036805019166754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jOMtKrYXtGG1kMZIp60Lknl3FJmq01rOl3eiQGjs_W-LyhTlHCGAFHcA9NpAKSvbh0urxpfVShNcENkfMk3vDd5PhgmRcjIAbWSDH9xYF_MphJ5YVevecvxzmSlgkKrUE8xwH19WgsU/s320/IMG_4771.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our first night walk started with a hunt for the elusive boa constrictor. And admittedly some part of us perhaps wanted him to remain hidden. Particularly disconcerting was the fact that our search began in one of the lodge's main buildings, where evidently boa's like to congregate in the rafters. Ahem. We did find one in a tree nearby. And during the day spotted capuchin monkeys, spider monkeys, all sorts of spiders, and...the grand pooh-bah...a giant ant-eater! While giant ant-eater might not conjure up the same awe as seeing, say, a snow leopard or jaguar, it is a super impressive (and big!) animal to witness in the wild. Our guide had never seen a full-grown one before (and he grew up in the jungle), so he was foaming at the mouth with excitement. And no, sadly, we do not have a photo. Doh!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8zDYjzOuBALOvi137hYeVKTFhyphenhyphenPXJ3Jw5gZtU4AyiMMNQ8HffyRtSd3Uml67vTOiHapCTiPsp4J1KKGl8-rF-gW5Qm4TMHRJ8Jr3DWfH9XKAXZ-1HucIrbcC4XPR0WMAqTliWipYHlE/s1600-h/IMG_4758.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174036903803414594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8zDYjzOuBALOvi137hYeVKTFhyphenhyphenPXJ3Jw5gZtU4AyiMMNQ8HffyRtSd3Uml67vTOiHapCTiPsp4J1KKGl8-rF-gW5Qm4TMHRJ8Jr3DWfH9XKAXZ-1HucIrbcC4XPR0WMAqTliWipYHlE/s320/IMG_4758.jpg" border="0" /></a>Perhaps in our best interest we did not see the bushmaster snake. This fella is particularly notable for the fact that if you threaten his awaiting-to-be-hatched eggs at any point, and even if you do so completely unwittingly by walking down a jungle trail, this snake will follow you for up to 500 meters before striking. And likely killing you. Fun facts to have in the back of your mind as you stumble through the steamy jungle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTQaZ0th2_ebPKaQsqbnP-IF5mJwPuNWuRjYZ1fAYOUl7Q24bLUubF_q8Wg0xYsEDhDeX3TXwi8a-zTIikiiSoyfCy3tqRJGcJXGke-SwqH8zhlB3NRQrr87yCGIc-EHcjNd6k-rlt-g/s1600-h/IMG_4788.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174036796429232146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTQaZ0th2_ebPKaQsqbnP-IF5mJwPuNWuRjYZ1fAYOUl7Q24bLUubF_q8Wg0xYsEDhDeX3TXwi8a-zTIikiiSoyfCy3tqRJGcJXGke-SwqH8zhlB3NRQrr87yCGIc-EHcjNd6k-rlt-g/s320/IMG_4788.jpg" border="0" /></a>By far our favorite animal, though, was the capybara, the world's largest rodent. He's endearing in a way that only the world's largest rodent could be. We're thinking this will be the focal point of the best-selling children's book we plan to write and illustrate in our free time.<br /><br />Truth be told, jungle walks searching for animals can be really rather boring unless you really know your trees and plants. It's 10,000 degrees out. You're covered in way too much long-sleeved, long-panted clothing to keep from getting rare jungle rashes and bites, your sunscreen mixes with bugspray in your eyes, and it feels like you're trying to exercise in a sauna. And the scenery is pretty unchanging.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgca0ZMLCj1WqShwHtKlYgD95J8Yc7u1uky0e9Mse_NwzgvBJclOVtPcyjf-aVfKXvfM0ihciml3xymIMWgZTTRoSbLSrnKOeUekVm7BxyH6lay38p7YScXRKGED11CRgHecgqyKvJBepQ/s1600-h/IMG_4763.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174036813609101362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgca0ZMLCj1WqShwHtKlYgD95J8Yc7u1uky0e9Mse_NwzgvBJclOVtPcyjf-aVfKXvfM0ihciml3xymIMWgZTTRoSbLSrnKOeUekVm7BxyH6lay38p7YScXRKGED11CRgHecgqyKvJBepQ/s320/IMG_4763.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />On the positive side, we were lucky enough to be lumped in with a group of fun-loving souls in our jungle paradise. And coca-leaf chewing, leche-de-puma drinking, and awkward dance events were made all the more delightful by the company we kept. This extends wholeheartedly to the entire Chalalan staff. Many of whom joined us in a hilarious tri-lingual game of cards on our last night. Explaining the game Bullsh#$%#t in English, Spanish, and Quechua was a cultural experience not to be forgotten (no, really, if you don't have the card, just lie, that's what you're supposed to do!).Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-74025062066942789872008-02-23T20:20:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:17:43.928-07:00Haircuts Around The World: Rurre<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciN_e5QGNBrrnEuPcpJAmDVRm5gd75Gkn6UiZyLiHXJlu5Q2EFR4atiu9MZwUXi9uf7iputrpiZFcb9c2pYyvMCsETV7AJ-dTrOmBSTKx3pn8YncQ_HGyTx7zNYO3TL2CQ58q6v2lMKI/s1600-h/IMG_4715.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190120520647246546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciN_e5QGNBrrnEuPcpJAmDVRm5gd75Gkn6UiZyLiHXJlu5Q2EFR4atiu9MZwUXi9uf7iputrpiZFcb9c2pYyvMCsETV7AJ-dTrOmBSTKx3pn8YncQ_HGyTx7zNYO3TL2CQ58q6v2lMKI/s320/IMG_4715.jpg" border="0" /></a>It was jungle hot and humid outside even in the early evening. We were in the jungle region of Bolivia and it was an amazing contrast to La Paz. We wandered the streets looking for haircut alley. What immediately caught my eye were the pictures of potential new hairdos all over the walls. We carefully scanned them all but never found one that seemed to fit my demanding tastes, so we settled for the clipper #1 on top and a trim up on the beard.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7haDZZuBPdPDg39cRVULSV2vo_WdS7ib7oZYhhWYgqpenWLzWFKMQ0tC6cFSF1HO3wQ_BvrfkMgwlt7Q39ERKeWFkDnN69Ot1W12XSVqvTfZYLYjl536EgZF5we8-PfNIL68ct1SexT4/s1600-h/IMG_4718.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190120512057311906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7haDZZuBPdPDg39cRVULSV2vo_WdS7ib7oZYhhWYgqpenWLzWFKMQ0tC6cFSF1HO3wQ_BvrfkMgwlt7Q39ERKeWFkDnN69Ot1W12XSVqvTfZYLYjl536EgZF5we8-PfNIL68ct1SexT4/s320/IMG_4718.jpg" border="0" /></a>It did not take more than 30 seconds before I was dripping in sweat. The barber joked to Kathleen by asking her what the translation was for "flood," as he noted my forehead. The cut on top was simple and straightforward. I began to get a little nervous about the beard as he reached for a guard that was a little too short, but it all turned out well. The Bolivians don't sport beards very often, so I don't think he gets much practice. The best that I could get was a once over with clipper #2, a pat down of my brow, and a push out the door. Not a bad cut but none of the fancy moves I have had the pleasure of experiencing so far on the trip. In any event, a haircut for less than $2 is pretty good. Overall I would give this a 4 out of 10.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSGcY9RiB-Hg0SjxnvZ2uXc39cpz61t3Ko2d4UzfdcAJ7g4mpjvmVQ8y0-R1UZUCPr5wpeY1HEQoalb4inSnQh-oyxVPJpu_q_rcSdvlrEIDD68YaV11s-f9XLlUVlEpRd5dmgVkbVGyI/s1600-h/IMG_4714.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190120524942213858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSGcY9RiB-Hg0SjxnvZ2uXc39cpz61t3Ko2d4UzfdcAJ7g4mpjvmVQ8y0-R1UZUCPr5wpeY1HEQoalb4inSnQh-oyxVPJpu_q_rcSdvlrEIDD68YaV11s-f9XLlUVlEpRd5dmgVkbVGyI/s320/IMG_4714.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2tIMkWsVjq4TujyuWsSOWKb3bt6SXjtvUd0IzGaJEG_ktpfL9DVK18Zp97FHmQ68SJcRF9VpWrDx33Tz9Pgpw5UcxNqyUKIL_cK1mIz6Z-I60NW2m1_2vlwRPGHOJWTOE1Lsl9N7Sfw/s1600-h/IMG_4717.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190120516352279218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2tIMkWsVjq4TujyuWsSOWKb3bt6SXjtvUd0IzGaJEG_ktpfL9DVK18Zp97FHmQ68SJcRF9VpWrDx33Tz9Pgpw5UcxNqyUKIL_cK1mIz6Z-I60NW2m1_2vlwRPGHOJWTOE1Lsl9N7Sfw/s320/IMG_4717.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8lkGzK7kYl4FTeJlLN9YmtwnH3V0-4kK51YTcrD7h7A66ogU9X9VLE9ocEauNWOR4jmTOeV3S_ica1aSJw-Ndz05k7GSycuKfPxVn5cj9l-IX3WiCycPX4RX0bKI1KRMoZCO1_7dCmg/s1600-h/IMG_4716.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190120516352279234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8lkGzK7kYl4FTeJlLN9YmtwnH3V0-4kK51YTcrD7h7A66ogU9X9VLE9ocEauNWOR4jmTOeV3S_ica1aSJw-Ndz05k7GSycuKfPxVn5cj9l-IX3WiCycPX4RX0bKI1KRMoZCO1_7dCmg/s320/IMG_4716.jpg" border="0" /></a>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-38802120801543350222008-02-21T13:46:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:17:28.421-07:00Bolivia: Sucre<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KllQfdnE7yLlaguDoQ5VvJRHbCuiZi3PA02LVT83O7quWlWMpT8b8JlFJE4pxs8wF8GpHV6EBb1qi_7qg9U9ML3pDVU7T7kCPkMxZisXble72XCsiHR9D392TtwxkQNbMkrdUt-sDXo/s1600-h/IMG_4618.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032767749908418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KllQfdnE7yLlaguDoQ5VvJRHbCuiZi3PA02LVT83O7quWlWMpT8b8JlFJE4pxs8wF8GpHV6EBb1qi_7qg9U9ML3pDVU7T7kCPkMxZisXble72XCsiHR9D392TtwxkQNbMkrdUt-sDXo/s320/IMG_4618.jpg" border="0" /></a>Sucre is known as the White City of the Americas, and it lives up to its moniker with striking white architecture and all the colonial trappings of grandeur and elegance. It`s a really beautiful city, and the setting is superb. It feels like the perfect place to start a Once Upon A Time fairytale. We spent our days strolling its streets, admiring its churches, climbing its bell towers, and poking our heads into all of its museums. Including <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0on2mmkxYjom7_8q9_NXxK67NlwnOTd4vU-FafaAkjeYFx2Maql-n7wybjnYnBxSrkiTx2YhR9GrqRdh9gZnUxt_K0fmoX44_eLhSUl0iFhvB5awYdLZEKbwoKe2ntVpOdK0WcD1NdHo/s1600-h/IMG_4631.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032754865006498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0on2mmkxYjom7_8q9_NXxK67NlwnOTd4vU-FafaAkjeYFx2Maql-n7wybjnYnBxSrkiTx2YhR9GrqRdh9gZnUxt_K0fmoX44_eLhSUl0iFhvB5awYdLZEKbwoKe2ntVpOdK0WcD1NdHo/s320/IMG_4631.jpg" border="0" /></a>the Natural History Museum, where Eric was nearly attacked by a condor!<br /><span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"><br /></span>It was in Sucre where we embarked on our most cheesy tour....taking the Dino Truck to the <em><strong>Parque Cretacico</strong></em>, Bolivia`s Jurassic Park. Bumping along in the back of a pick-up truck outfitted with bench seats and dinosaur claws, we made our way to the cement factory where <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFjGOCvQUgPlX2oG5gAsuOr-Ok21HkMzjc_F1qYawE_vGk_629Ax57yIeG95JGdNIODBoqwetxrVrgFWAlluQOR2xPWNP1rXH04RmjD60u4WkysfltI2noPgJWWpUrn-plQ6hJtb8YXY/s1600-h/IMG_4638.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174034228038789090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFjGOCvQUgPlX2oG5gAsuOr-Ok21HkMzjc_F1qYawE_vGk_629Ax57yIeG95JGdNIODBoqwetxrVrgFWAlluQOR2xPWNP1rXH04RmjD60u4WkysfltI2noPgJWWpUrn-plQ6hJtb8YXY/s320/IMG_4638.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzajYQWSHnYJseu2sV6Qt9XE8USG4IO3ITyOWEattNTAg4gj-Y_6I-d15IJAj-uP87-FKtSadEn9h22-eeCZYEwd7uMOITmeDgBM7r4P0-FGdkiKylzUcTr-Ns3CrV_OG47LBkGMeUKo/s1600-h/IMG_4656.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032024720566130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzajYQWSHnYJseu2sV6Qt9XE8USG4IO3ITyOWEattNTAg4gj-Y_6I-d15IJAj-uP87-FKtSadEn9h22-eeCZYEwd7uMOITmeDgBM7r4P0-FGdkiKylzUcTr-Ns3CrV_OG47LBkGMeUKo/s320/IMG_4656.jpg" border="0" /></a>the world`s longest track of dinosaur footprints were found while excavating cement. To be fair, and despite our goofy photos, the place was impressive. They discovered the footprints a mere 25 years ago, and the once-flat earth has since been tectonically pushed into a steep wall, but you can easily see scores of various dinosaur prints. It`s pretty incredible. The museum is well done, and they have all these recreations of dinosaurs that are supposed to be anatomically accurate based on skin fossils and bones. Best yet, they have piped in sound!<br /><br />On a completely unrelated note, we also discovered that Che Guevara stayed in the same hotel as us! We didn`t think he went in for colorful patios with garden fountains and cable TV. Who knew? <div></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jp8F2Q-w2V8zM0CwynWOvGvTl76V31N_B2r3Yp6fSc_kFoBZgFkVn52MXtDsBRMnB-gU1mrTP1RJv22iDH9i-DrNOdihC1rF4HiLHMslDmesszGdpfxvdVxwEbiN0ZuapSR9wKT8CYc/s1600-h/IMG_4684.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032007540696898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jp8F2Q-w2V8zM0CwynWOvGvTl76V31N_B2r3Yp6fSc_kFoBZgFkVn52MXtDsBRMnB-gU1mrTP1RJv22iDH9i-DrNOdihC1rF4HiLHMslDmesszGdpfxvdVxwEbiN0ZuapSR9wKT8CYc/s320/IMG_4684.jpg" border="0" /></a>Speaking of political figures, we had a really interesting and shocking conversation with a taxi driver en route to the bus station. He was the first non-Evo Morales supporter that we`ve met. Instead, he advocated for a hard line leader with a military presence in Bolivia. He said that the reason Chile was so rich, was because of Pinochet and that Bolivia needed a Pinochet. When we questioned the death toll under Pinochet and suggested there were other ways to affect economic change, he said the deaths were necessary to get Chile where it is today. We decided to keep our traps shut. But undeniably Bolivia suffers from losing coastal access to Chile, and jealousies and comparisons run rampant. </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0hdTlZxvsuM6OYCcR4UBKsogEp_t8XAZgomHh3TKZd0QV80UzIoADvJqBCFbcZAG3nTLdE-W-QXPre5QQ4rDcYnq8BAzNW7jrBjYNRLGuatNlZQ7ZkNxg6RWkvt8uUZ2MLoECeBjKoY/s1600-h/IMG_4623.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032759159973810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0hdTlZxvsuM6OYCcR4UBKsogEp_t8XAZgomHh3TKZd0QV80UzIoADvJqBCFbcZAG3nTLdE-W-QXPre5QQ4rDcYnq8BAzNW7jrBjYNRLGuatNlZQ7ZkNxg6RWkvt8uUZ2MLoECeBjKoY/s320/IMG_4623.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFoIZMF8y8fZv7vfhxE-1JtFubLknNSMmhTLbo38Jf4W78XjwKMVoJQMp1pJYmqa9P8bIpX8Kg98X1i7tPB4v6ryPvOZymS60R7VN3zZ62Af7Ewc1DvP42JyWRq_lw_QFGgyYDfs-PJ8/s1600-h/IMG_4594.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032772044875730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFoIZMF8y8fZv7vfhxE-1JtFubLknNSMmhTLbo38Jf4W78XjwKMVoJQMp1pJYmqa9P8bIpX8Kg98X1i7tPB4v6ryPvOZymS60R7VN3zZ62Af7Ewc1DvP42JyWRq_lw_QFGgyYDfs-PJ8/s320/IMG_4594.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DxihMdwxIxcLwfelt-bYkLJbpbsh2ukIlqE-GyE_Zj0IqEG_8AyO9snHTaQSF1Ez5KK1Gma9-zgkmztImkfaBRT7aEPhByvHiJlmBnnpEh66Js9v_KOxeApt3E0rbbGpP95lyW7anIk/s1600-h/IMG_4669.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032011835664210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DxihMdwxIxcLwfelt-bYkLJbpbsh2ukIlqE-GyE_Zj0IqEG_8AyO9snHTaQSF1Ez5KK1Gma9-zgkmztImkfaBRT7aEPhByvHiJlmBnnpEh66Js9v_KOxeApt3E0rbbGpP95lyW7anIk/s320/IMG_4669.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZyoPecB5-2VaFsDqnAI8d9DxvH84styoLWu4oq5_Aiy-WRUcfJ_Ln_wB0EorjVKLi7E8UTl9Wl-jax8ZSmPeJakAxq_HA7kyo1yd_eCq615dsLSRiSWKh1hyTAoAaV9kuhfyx1fkY10/s1600-h/IMG_4662.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032020425598818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZyoPecB5-2VaFsDqnAI8d9DxvH84styoLWu4oq5_Aiy-WRUcfJ_Ln_wB0EorjVKLi7E8UTl9Wl-jax8ZSmPeJakAxq_HA7kyo1yd_eCq615dsLSRiSWKh1hyTAoAaV9kuhfyx1fkY10/s320/IMG_4662.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhei6UpIpKAXXTa94Z0R4t9OQSujWcGAeRRWKvzqlYXn4Wd43o6c1IdxgwHKySIcukvyX67reb7Ssn340MEpFVEKlHuN56a-r5jqoXmoDEO3bTZs3LvIcKTIl5IQfeMAEWIJAVHTK0pNy0/s1600-h/IMG_4654.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174032033310500738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhei6UpIpKAXXTa94Z0R4t9OQSujWcGAeRRWKvzqlYXn4Wd43o6c1IdxgwHKySIcukvyX67reb7Ssn340MEpFVEKlHuN56a-r5jqoXmoDEO3bTZs3LvIcKTIl5IQfeMAEWIJAVHTK0pNy0/s320/IMG_4654.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-22035246943211775342008-02-18T13:05:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:17:16.611-07:00Bolivia: Potosi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDxjgb2BQLAbAR32LqTxbE7CUJoa7lbh6lJUdCcTcd1MWOV5U-fbX20DunmllguFSHgsiwu5CDWuavAyeYq5_OmrItSufUsbOZn06yum4AGhLSWv4nY442sIfz033z76bETPi2dudUV0/s1600-h/IMG_4539.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174015703844841266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDxjgb2BQLAbAR32LqTxbE7CUJoa7lbh6lJUdCcTcd1MWOV5U-fbX20DunmllguFSHgsiwu5CDWuavAyeYq5_OmrItSufUsbOZn06yum4AGhLSWv4nY442sIfz033z76bETPi2dudUV0/s320/IMG_4539.jpg" border="0" /></a>Today we landed in Potosi, supposedly the highest city in the world at 4,070 meters (13,300 feet!). Our bus ride was mostly uneventful, save for three tire changes done the old-fashioned way (i.e. no power tools). Our hotel, while lovely, was remarkably Being John Malkovich-esque. Poor Eric must have clocked his noggin` about twelve times.<br /><br />Potosi has an amazing history, as it was once the richest town in the Americas, and more populous than Paris. That was back in the good ole days of colonialists plundering the rocks for silver. Potosi`s Cerro Rico, literally rich hill, meant decades of wealth in the 15oo´s. African slaves were used, locals were used, basically anyone who could be exploited was, and the town has the gorgeous colonial architecture, stunning cathedral, and impressive historic mint to prove it. These days, people still mine Cerro Rico, but it is subsistence living of the most dangerous variety. Nearly all miners die of black lung within 10 to 15 years of entering the mines, and accidents and cave-ins take at least 20 lives a year. These <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgxtvk890da4xG1Zr1gQ5TXDU0tzIsDjfkESzjLtySDsegPMpqGyli9s2708-LJcLm_6cQ8dMEB8zl_f16Eu4fsoql2UFvA6_K8RWWxjiWDBh09lAP-mzu-rqllWVVvhY7NphCZWqQq0/s1600-h/IMG_4559.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174015695254906642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgxtvk890da4xG1Zr1gQ5TXDU0tzIsDjfkESzjLtySDsegPMpqGyli9s2708-LJcLm_6cQ8dMEB8zl_f16Eu4fsoql2UFvA6_K8RWWxjiWDBh09lAP-mzu-rqllWVVvhY7NphCZWqQq0/s320/IMG_4559.jpg" border="0" /></a>days nickel and tin are sought after, as the silver appears to be mostly tapped out. The style of mining is little changed since the mountain was first dug into. A handful of miners have escaped the work to become guides for popular tours that lead curious travelers straight into the heart of the mountain to witness the work in progress. And we were curious.<br /><br />There is all sorts of etiquette, ritual, and preparation that goes into visiting the mines. First we had to suit up with headlamps and protective clothing. Next, we stopped to buy gifts for the miners. As the mines are all cooperatively owned, miners are responsible for buying all of their equipment, and supply shops line the road leading up the mountain. The most popular and appreciated offerings were dynamite, coca leaves (to stave off hunger while working, as you can`t eat in the mines because there`s too much arsenic in the air), and alcohol. The rot gut of choice is a potable 96% grain alcohol. Basically it`s as potent as you can get without killing yourself, and a striking nod to the difficulties of mine work that may need to be forgotten in a drunken stupor. And yes, we tried it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_jm5Qlny7HZcIN_skTQ7_id8jkYqYue3uGD6VPaX1YJ20WH_01GSeaoX6lm-kAvggLzRDHvRQ4gLH2jxCbBCOWXStp2l_ml7k3U82Bajssmp04Ybb8t8vtMxdlR1YbQQ_nXkYEFC-Yiw/s1600-h/IMG_4578.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174012912116098754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_jm5Qlny7HZcIN_skTQ7_id8jkYqYue3uGD6VPaX1YJ20WH_01GSeaoX6lm-kAvggLzRDHvRQ4gLH2jxCbBCOWXStp2l_ml7k3U82Bajssmp04Ybb8t8vtMxdlR1YbQQ_nXkYEFC-Yiw/s320/IMG_4578.jpg" border="0" /></a>Gifts of coca leaves and alcohol are also left as offerings to Tio, the devil that oversees the hellish work in the mines. Literally Tio means Uncle in Spanish, but it`s a euphemism for the devil in the mines. While Bolivians are by and large devout Catholics, most miners believe that God leaves them at the entrance to the mine, and they have to pay their respects to the underworld in order to be kept safe in the belly of the earth. During the Miner`s Carnival, a llama fetus is buried at the mine`s entrance, and fresh llama blood is splashed around the entry to appease Tio.<br /><br />Donning our headlamps, we bow our way into the mouth of the earth, following wagon tracks. The natural light disappears, and the dark wet cold is replaced by hot, narrow, damp passageways, loud with the hissing pipes of condensed air that run down the shafts to power drills far below. We walk briskly, ducking low to avoid chutes, and breathing heavily in the thin smelly air (14,000 ft). We crawl up a narrow chute to watch how they winch up heavy rubber <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqNsEL1YNq3agoXSXDkX3kPuXqDWVbDZX-Vwuv7Ne0lPkcmydHerhscN9IMncJ6NgnU5O-kgffKHGWQ4eltuaxyie-87VLmfx5S0Pa49ZugFn-q9Wd98NwIu3JgTm7L3L_WaGvqrcIFw/s1600-h/IMG_4567.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174012925001000690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqNsEL1YNq3agoXSXDkX3kPuXqDWVbDZX-Vwuv7Ne0lPkcmydHerhscN9IMncJ6NgnU5O-kgffKHGWQ4eltuaxyie-87VLmfx5S0Pa49ZugFn-q9Wd98NwIu3JgTm7L3L_WaGvqrcIFw/s320/IMG_4567.jpg" border="0" /></a>baskets filled with earth from the depths of the mine. Shortly after this point, the claustraphobia, heat, fumes, dust, altitude, and general sissiness conspire to make Kathleen question whether she really needs to venture further into the mine. The answer, after a few more meters of descent and rising panic is no. Luckily the guides are prepared for this, and the incredibly sweet and kind Renaldo leads Kathleen back into the sunshine. Meanwhile, Eric continued down into the depths.<br /><br /><br />We proceeded down another three levels, sometimes crawling on our hands and knees or working our way down ladders (avoiding at all times the many holes that go so far down you can´t see the bottom). We stopped on the third level to say hello to the miners that were filling the rubber baskets that were being raised to the first level by a motor. We even had a chance to pick up shovels and pitch in to help. The saddest part is seeing the fourteen and sixteen year old kids that were working in this group. We shared some of our <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgomTG2RRdkfgUHDwPy_-L6Jv3gYdUn30cOT7IWSlBTqPPwxFaZjZh-_jciAcQIz_v6XbRzcTqJpIt6fP2MLjnmtSAV0fJSAjgZAV7RfO0J1hA26jjGv4KPIcYxkoJymfNANvji49ITi9c/s1600-h/IMG_4574.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174012916411066066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgomTG2RRdkfgUHDwPy_-L6Jv3gYdUn30cOT7IWSlBTqPPwxFaZjZh-_jciAcQIz_v6XbRzcTqJpIt6fP2MLjnmtSAV0fJSAjgZAV7RfO0J1hA26jjGv4KPIcYxkoJymfNANvji49ITi9c/s320/IMG_4574.jpg" border="0" /></a>gifts and then proceeded to crawl down to the fourth level. Here we found a separate collective of six miners, working only with hand tools, who had to carry whatever they found out with them on their backs. The conditions down here were horrible, it was hot (they did not wear shirts) and it was incredibly hard to see and breathe. No breathable air is forced into the mine, and we were taking in only what came through the small entrance way four levels above and the noxious chemicals and gases, including silica dust, arsenic gas and acetylene vapors among other nasty things. We gave them some dynamite, coca leaves, alcohol, and soda and made our way out as quickly as possible.<br /><br /><br />While outside, Kathleen chatted with miners on <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1VvT6xQmLHnaCbhk_wl8nQmx1Ydmugul6vHiIOlFjVuH7LRZ63Bv5MMChyphenhyphenR8iYGF72ZeVxc6rchXLCVHMKtGVsvLE94kwgaEsQARjHPLvpvKO6aBOLW33rIcIQpPblvwlu77EYh1RZA/s1600-h/IMG_4572.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174012920706033378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1VvT6xQmLHnaCbhk_wl8nQmx1Ydmugul6vHiIOlFjVuH7LRZ63Bv5MMChyphenhyphenR8iYGF72ZeVxc6rchXLCVHMKtGVsvLE94kwgaEsQARjHPLvpvKO6aBOLW33rIcIQpPblvwlu77EYh1RZA/s320/IMG_4572.jpg" border="0" /></a>their break. None of whom was shy to ask about how much money we make or how much airplane tickets cost. Questions that we are embarassed to answer in a country where the average annual income is less than $3,000. All things told, the whole experience was eye-opening and valuable. We had the luck of seeing a German documentary on the mines called The Devil`s Miner a few days after our visit that deals with the plight of a child miner. We highly recommend it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_NGqJGxyqh74wVrTL18wDMUnFAaUt0GD1wbdqUBA4M8_TCqllk7IjkqTPWlPma_rur4PamVCk7KryDTrhrdvt0jKUrh2c6rwXg25jWceUOi6oD0xalHFYvb3rT0EIqaVmFLSP17KpVc/s1600-h/IMG_4566.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174015686664972034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_NGqJGxyqh74wVrTL18wDMUnFAaUt0GD1wbdqUBA4M8_TCqllk7IjkqTPWlPma_rur4PamVCk7KryDTrhrdvt0jKUrh2c6rwXg25jWceUOi6oD0xalHFYvb3rT0EIqaVmFLSP17KpVc/s320/IMG_4566.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNyR7mcXf1XS8cdZbZHMAbzeun7zSi2fr13eiu8H3JOl1R1Pjk0GlxbkPWJHceo5Ae-cGn5AwkOg0UJzFiNL_-X5njBHgyggSB1tEY-IIGv6Gx3rlUgA36DP5D8rD9iLPaxTOKHkJpqLY/s1600-h/IMG_4557.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174015699549873954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNyR7mcXf1XS8cdZbZHMAbzeun7zSi2fr13eiu8H3JOl1R1Pjk0GlxbkPWJHceo5Ae-cGn5AwkOg0UJzFiNL_-X5njBHgyggSB1tEY-IIGv6Gx3rlUgA36DP5D8rD9iLPaxTOKHkJpqLY/s320/IMG_4557.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHAt8Y2vYICGheLojvgSRAstV3PMX9BtzedQIZxjcSPT7FinhGu0-dLttrpbUtW-msY78n-7X6SumaMA0vOPI8Qy_06N1FfLZ80lqbuKyYkmBFASKsLCENJfwUhj-Gp2e1-lHLwoluJE/s1600-h/IMG_4588.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174012903526164146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHAt8Y2vYICGheLojvgSRAstV3PMX9BtzedQIZxjcSPT7FinhGu0-dLttrpbUtW-msY78n-7X6SumaMA0vOPI8Qy_06N1FfLZ80lqbuKyYkmBFASKsLCENJfwUhj-Gp2e1-lHLwoluJE/s320/IMG_4588.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-36387706919898924052008-02-16T11:58:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:17:08.379-07:00Bolivia: Tupiza<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3RxGRyR-R8HPE5CGnk1a9RDawj5SiMKDfXTX4IkkUwg8DtohkLJx9wG7svQK-lFQ3zUAMHs_FsZryvGnz1Rjy7SzgYBMiJasOE8nev9SNxfoZ8LmeO1cyQv7sCg8T7kmVIu9VtRzki8/s1600-h/IMG_4532.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173608022579284978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3RxGRyR-R8HPE5CGnk1a9RDawj5SiMKDfXTX4IkkUwg8DtohkLJx9wG7svQK-lFQ3zUAMHs_FsZryvGnz1Rjy7SzgYBMiJasOE8nev9SNxfoZ8LmeO1cyQv7sCg8T7kmVIu9VtRzki8/s400/IMG_4532.jpg" border="0" /></a>Heading eight hours south on a bus ride that had us alternating between photo snapping and Hail Mary`s, we made our way to the stunning red cliffs and lush desert scenery of Tupiza. The environs are the former stomping grounds of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and you can easily imagine the two outlaws hiding in dry box canyons whistling Hollywood theme songs. It`s an undeniably beautiful landscape with an American Wild West feel to it. We have all sorts of screenplay ideas based on it that will undoubtedly make us our millions. But more on that later.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSCS9hy4W8YNrRrpPTe_EcyVrFnXvPrQ0V6IF7Y0GJbviMFnSHGuhQraRq3bd319-bFPRI-qhHs108-kqoD6c5o5EoNG7N3Hr2wWcNQjHTstqmqzj3p0m7vnCndL3H6uRXH0ZJWpNDW-I/s1600-h/IMG_4512.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173608056939023394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSCS9hy4W8YNrRrpPTe_EcyVrFnXvPrQ0V6IF7Y0GJbviMFnSHGuhQraRq3bd319-bFPRI-qhHs108-kqoD6c5o5EoNG7N3Hr2wWcNQjHTstqmqzj3p0m7vnCndL3H6uRXH0ZJWpNDW-I/s400/IMG_4512.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />We signed up for the impressively-named Triathalon, an athletic smorgasborg of hiking, horseback riding, and mountain biking. The day began with pedaling past sunflowers, pueblos, green gardens, and red rock fin formations. Trading our iron steeds for the real deal, we saddled up and rode up a dry wash toward the <em>Valle des Machos</em> (can you spot the macho in the picture?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiipLQrGv1sDEsXEGzZtrwNJ1NFkgqJpRVHJbFszVqPr76EoG_8UAd6O2TRtneY1HqVEaN7z9RmAqydB26HTOByRxJkpbPknD6XfSUmvWjESr_HvL2pAAQG-deY95x7Z1oAZg3TusoAR8/s1600-h/IMG_4520.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173608048349088786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiipLQrGv1sDEsXEGzZtrwNJ1NFkgqJpRVHJbFszVqPr76EoG_8UAd6O2TRtneY1HqVEaN7z9RmAqydB26HTOByRxJkpbPknD6XfSUmvWjESr_HvL2pAAQG-deY95x7Z1oAZg3TusoAR8/s400/IMG_4520.jpg" border="0" /></a>), where phallic formations give the valley its name. It was like riding into a film set, trotting past cactus (mostly of the hallucinogenic San Pedro variety) and stark desert scenery. For lunch, we had the Tupiza speciality, tamales made with llama meat. Tasty! The day ended with a white-knuckle (at least for Kathleen) descent of close to 1,500 meters in the late-afternoon sun. Eric weathered a loose brake, then a missing brake, then 2 flat tires, but still managed to beat Kathleen to the bottom. Doh!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpOnyADOcD6NJ4ByEH-BiCrM-yHvGTchkouwFvgmELmtqw55KbVT_OyVhr6hfOohGbUUycsWuBVNmDzbuLS9vIdDMAy25lhz49nGH_I_8ZfNJ6rVKc7CSdV4L-9Yn4k_5hDhiOLZjIlY/s1600-h/IMG_4529.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173608035464186882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpOnyADOcD6NJ4ByEH-BiCrM-yHvGTchkouwFvgmELmtqw55KbVT_OyVhr6hfOohGbUUycsWuBVNmDzbuLS9vIdDMAy25lhz49nGH_I_8ZfNJ6rVKc7CSdV4L-9Yn4k_5hDhiOLZjIlY/s400/IMG_4529.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Traveling to and from Tupiza, we also had a sobering look at Bolivia`s striking poverty. We knew from reading that more than half the country went without electricity, heat, or running water---a real tragedy in a land of cold, harsh climates. From the local bus window, we saw evidence of this everywhere. People eking out a living where they could, taking care of hygiene wherever they could (no wonder you can`t drink the water), and working long hard hours regardless of age (young and old). At the same time, we found everyone to be incredibly helpful and kind. We hope that Presidente Evo Morales is able to turn the economic situation around to everyone`s benefit, and we have been trying to interview locals about their views on him and politics in general.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgmxeZMwUhuFYIVi395Qj3edmQxDgO5n7cQrPKoXkM1f_z14QVO4azif7QIIb8jxptzeMYicv3lCCA8IEZGC-PfPPkUoFeOOhjK_eukDFmMzabHXpEh3GgaD_j_88BrP5rbiVkltGQ9E/s1600-h/IMG_4478.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173610350451559474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgmxeZMwUhuFYIVi395Qj3edmQxDgO5n7cQrPKoXkM1f_z14QVO4azif7QIIb8jxptzeMYicv3lCCA8IEZGC-PfPPkUoFeOOhjK_eukDFmMzabHXpEh3GgaD_j_88BrP5rbiVkltGQ9E/s400/IMG_4478.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gIiWwDGAHupDxr6zizxHYxfR5J1H9AmTxPCp0WT05Kf5dlBuwliNMygN8UHjj4OiJvuuroJPfsYPeMYOrSTGKap9_ISw_lshDnrZuPFwmQj5RzYi7xpD8eBOc1zrfMm3VglczXJLo7s/s1600-h/IMG_4475.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMSzporTCrt1GTdZnOVu0igYg0rZEB8ePfrkoTlAohHAzIsC0j8NLLs2CwkpUVrzxddG3UwI8PlSLYHjaKb-di4_W33kmLmDkm24Iq3Ddxt8RMtCttdH9n2WPZkimRdck1FTJwYfeboc/s1600-h/IMG_4535.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173608009694383074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMSzporTCrt1GTdZnOVu0igYg0rZEB8ePfrkoTlAohHAzIsC0j8NLLs2CwkpUVrzxddG3UwI8PlSLYHjaKb-di4_W33kmLmDkm24Iq3Ddxt8RMtCttdH9n2WPZkimRdck1FTJwYfeboc/s400/IMG_4535.jpg" border="0" /></a>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-42216581556318238572008-02-14T11:59:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:16:59.419-07:00Bolivia: The Salares and Uyuni<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA43u8bxO6cMvu1diGG7yC6u_gfEM-GJ6pW_mzQHmrzhKF8zizSpYmXkwCAQh3xlM6rL1V5PEG1cqfpAwRVP6UZ0ipFdY11j2xSSJx-9xHxv9X1cYthkiGsltxRzmhkZreGi2o1PV5X98/s1600-h/IMG_4224.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173628071486623298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA43u8bxO6cMvu1diGG7yC6u_gfEM-GJ6pW_mzQHmrzhKF8zizSpYmXkwCAQh3xlM6rL1V5PEG1cqfpAwRVP6UZ0ipFdY11j2xSSJx-9xHxv9X1cYthkiGsltxRzmhkZreGi2o1PV5X98/s400/IMG_4224.jpg" border="0" /></a>Crossing into Bolivia was like stepping into the final frontier, both literally and figuratively. Since we are flying home out of La Paz, it marked the last border crossing of our journey. And since we were entering via dirt roads in a barren landscape, it had a middle of nowhere feel to it. Crossing borders always has a bit of an exciting nail-biting anticipation about it. Will someone plant illegal drugs in our bags? Will we get thrown into a dank prison where our Spanish will really improve? One never knows.<br /><br />Once we were stamped and approved, we hefted our backpacks onto 4x4s for a three day trip through Bolivia`s <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFz1oNtTmNKmdtQOQaj-8nssf8Pt9djk3yqANZKqlFzJ6OFsnA94CFC9IE_mNrONmf0nAKNM8EqeKD93Z0k0jJ2K9K_ANykMQ7h2DJA0ZlDUI4Svyty6l3smSE4FNXyyqqufLLCyRRuAQ/s1600-h/IMG_4251.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173628050011786786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFz1oNtTmNKmdtQOQaj-8nssf8Pt9djk3yqANZKqlFzJ6OFsnA94CFC9IE_mNrONmf0nAKNM8EqeKD93Z0k0jJ2K9K_ANykMQ7h2DJA0ZlDUI4Svyty6l3smSE4FNXyyqqufLLCyRRuAQ/s400/IMG_4251.jpg" border="0" /></a>famed lakes and <em>salares</em> (salt fields) toward Uyuni. This has to be one of most visually stunning sections of our travels, a veritable nature freak show of the most beautiful variety. We gawked over lakes that glowed white, red, and green. We zoomed our lenses on flamingos, hoping for the perfect shot (didn`t happen). And we traversed a landscape ranging from brilliant hues of red rock, to endless patches of fresh snow, to looming volcanoes. Incredible. Fitting that one of the surreal rock landscapes is called <em>Desierto del Dali</em> (yes of Salvador Dali fame). Undoubtedly the altitude played a role in our out-of-body experience, as we reached 5,000 meters (16,400 feet!) at the geyser field, where one bubbling fumarole glowed a devilish red. Belching, gurgling, spitting and hissing, the fumaroles created an awesome landscape fit for Jabba the Hut.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3l_uLm5UC-YzitQiHp2sDhUVhHiydtkEtpLC132lVXqv6LStoc6qsDWOtAe4Ul_fO3ubNgzZS9YHw5u4Osj8gAkLeaNPYf2r8iJpwRYvaLuQlwsJE2YUISDAn4kB79aS6LLG5efqsfLs/s1600-h/IMG_4274.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173625988427484658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3l_uLm5UC-YzitQiHp2sDhUVhHiydtkEtpLC132lVXqv6LStoc6qsDWOtAe4Ul_fO3ubNgzZS9YHw5u4Osj8gAkLeaNPYf2r8iJpwRYvaLuQlwsJE2YUISDAn4kB79aS6LLG5efqsfLs/s400/IMG_4274.jpg" border="0" /></a>We had been warned that car trouble went hand in hand with enjoying the views. Careening our way over bumpy, gravelly, non-existent roads through the stark landscape, we understood why. Luckily our group of ten travelers was a hardy upbeat bunch. For us, breakdowns meant hack circles, or snowball fights, or whatever else the landscape dictated.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGiqaYu06nbq4QILpq6XLJJ8G-SUqgy-NlJKMdNtGZ12FLsAZu73og51R5e3PuoZAJKC3hZqVHGQxSMMmK5hYxRGuehbbqt8HgYF1F3T6vr8Xt3iudtDoo-Kqlc-XGU0glSWLI76XaME/s1600-h/IMG_4330.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623999857626546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGiqaYu06nbq4QILpq6XLJJ8G-SUqgy-NlJKMdNtGZ12FLsAZu73og51R5e3PuoZAJKC3hZqVHGQxSMMmK5hYxRGuehbbqt8HgYF1F3T6vr8Xt3iudtDoo-Kqlc-XGU0glSWLI76XaME/s400/IMG_4330.jpg" border="0" /></a>A highlight of the trip was staying in a salt hotel, where virtually everything (beds, tables, chairs, walls) was constructed of salt. The floor was the most incredible, just pristine sparkling grains of salt that made for an exfoliatory experience on bare feet after showering.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiii6IbMKw7ZC4Y5YXps7wAt4dTLjzi4irvq2Y28j87sFz4iRLkKZuIo1CluKj1kUlubkYshRDRxFzFkzkiRgBOmCxQSm7HF4H0ySYOfa5dmfyaO7n4CgPBvOG31Ym1JwBgJun9BcDhsDM/s1600-h/IMG_4357.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623995562659234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiii6IbMKw7ZC4Y5YXps7wAt4dTLjzi4irvq2Y28j87sFz4iRLkKZuIo1CluKj1kUlubkYshRDRxFzFkzkiRgBOmCxQSm7HF4H0ySYOfa5dmfyaO7n4CgPBvOG31Ym1JwBgJun9BcDhsDM/s400/IMG_4357.jpg" border="0" /></a>On our final day, we rose before dawn to watch the sun rise over the salt flats. Being the rainy season, the flats are under a few inches of water, making the landscape a jaw-dropping mirror-y mirage. Driving along, it`s impossible to discern the skyline from the earth, and distant land masses look like floating islands. Words can`t describe it and pictures don`t do it <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5Po4x3dThJJDD3YSs6qYyCILOTxOjSm3qj0avheE0Qr8v1UYatVikItJgpG7nUgQeNjijllicQAyi-CtzJunDmepkYdOmyMJON-FtPAVyyYWInzEp5ifnYPVVqBsOQtyMi_tMRdD9Cg/s1600-h/IMG_4366.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623982677757330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5Po4x3dThJJDD3YSs6qYyCILOTxOjSm3qj0avheE0Qr8v1UYatVikItJgpG7nUgQeNjijllicQAyi-CtzJunDmepkYdOmyMJON-FtPAVyyYWInzEp5ifnYPVVqBsOQtyMi_tMRdD9Cg/s400/IMG_4366.jpg" border="0" /></a>justice, but suffice to say we`d head back in a heartbeat. Nearing Uyuni, we saw the salt being raked into pyramids for drying and selling. And then we visited the train cemetery, where old steam engines go to sleep and to be photographed in black and white.<br /><br />Arriving in Uyuni, we experienced our first taste of Bolivian culture. Nearly every woman we saw was dressed in <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtqN9gTtqyVPhF5rkyTg0mUe15FLqSk9erV0YY9_8c3KFwtCyL07_rWigt8m2WSHJSBq_TjMMZQ7rbe4JXz5iqvMV32w2upaLYayEuee2UA-BkIPp_lINcAh3aKGfNOJNp2gQM3ijxa8/s1600-h/IMG_4384.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622586813386098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtqN9gTtqyVPhF5rkyTg0mUe15FLqSk9erV0YY9_8c3KFwtCyL07_rWigt8m2WSHJSBq_TjMMZQ7rbe4JXz5iqvMV32w2upaLYayEuee2UA-BkIPp_lINcAh3aKGfNOJNp2gQM3ijxa8/s400/IMG_4384.jpg" border="0" /></a>the traditional fashion of two long braids, a bowler hat, apron, and a full skirt. Unlike parts of Peru, where traditional dress is often used as a money-making venture for tourist photos, here it`s simply tradition. We didn`t get nearly as many photos of people as we would have liked because we felt intrusive, but we loved wandering the market where everything from dried llama fetuses to blue jeans were on offer. What with it being Valentine`s day and all, we treated ourselves to some good dark chocolate and decadent t.v. watching. Chocolate kisses to you all as well!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVPzAVct_3j2fG8d60hPHPWHsX60V74bcrXDkubMB4AYWrCbvyDIbbkbNIE3ZEdBdMmPNi-Z5zfrktktLiG-ZoKCzPztS5y7vB4CrhbaQ2SH3IL7jFvHPY_6UniLokHoekTMwji_DZOQ/s1600-h/IMG_4237.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173628054306754098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVPzAVct_3j2fG8d60hPHPWHsX60V74bcrXDkubMB4AYWrCbvyDIbbkbNIE3ZEdBdMmPNi-Z5zfrktktLiG-ZoKCzPztS5y7vB4CrhbaQ2SH3IL7jFvHPY_6UniLokHoekTMwji_DZOQ/s400/IMG_4237.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYt1DvwNsgblkmx7C_ncmNrkj7KT7yQlvWz8nj6bFz1w26ArKlw-Vak8YCjFbJQDAyli40cF2av1Mw5UaHP7-GQf_tEtFVK5PC0k8tz5mqclceBPRH2YYl_3bEClViftDiYe-6J66GRl4/s1600-h/IMG_4292.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173625966952648146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYt1DvwNsgblkmx7C_ncmNrkj7KT7yQlvWz8nj6bFz1w26ArKlw-Vak8YCjFbJQDAyli40cF2av1Mw5UaHP7-GQf_tEtFVK5PC0k8tz5mqclceBPRH2YYl_3bEClViftDiYe-6J66GRl4/s400/IMG_4292.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCaD1av3vr-mF9M-3e4t2pZZyifhlgKppttJDsA2KNdIKtvp126CJQ46-tbiRJupZ85av3CGwQxm4hghEUKmgbORh9Mr4kS9xxNbNVxFL7PbSKFpYxZhm_PdsOk6ofVMPWNoAejHDraQ/s1600-h/IMG_4283.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173625975542582754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCaD1av3vr-mF9M-3e4t2pZZyifhlgKppttJDsA2KNdIKtvp126CJQ46-tbiRJupZ85av3CGwQxm4hghEUKmgbORh9Mr4kS9xxNbNVxFL7PbSKFpYxZhm_PdsOk6ofVMPWNoAejHDraQ/s400/IMG_4283.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-RI2apV0mJmlXrjEK6YyApU5iv3TNeByKFl2dDQwsqtga0U9XFTmI85t1wNfl_9R-aRotfpjIqNhvhFD9moEm_j70V3uq3kpiL17qQfH-_q12HuaxoYdqZfSSMTSB1cgtl6TqcUjmGc/s1600-h/IMG_4262.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173625997017419266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-RI2apV0mJmlXrjEK6YyApU5iv3TNeByKFl2dDQwsqtga0U9XFTmI85t1wNfl_9R-aRotfpjIqNhvhFD9moEm_j70V3uq3kpiL17qQfH-_q12HuaxoYdqZfSSMTSB1cgtl6TqcUjmGc/s400/IMG_4262.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKSlWXj0hVeF8sXhaey_vXxENjXMWoTnycXAOFDGbUo1Qs3Y_YRkEXYH5SCwa5kI4vYjerhG7HXZSDsLwBGUNk_2OQ8kOZkhlCpePc0U16hj4L1lHJjVlIOWVMoS_9uEx47ANKRfjLFE/s1600-h/IMG_4257.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173626009902321170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKSlWXj0hVeF8sXhaey_vXxENjXMWoTnycXAOFDGbUo1Qs3Y_YRkEXYH5SCwa5kI4vYjerhG7HXZSDsLwBGUNk_2OQ8kOZkhlCpePc0U16hj4L1lHJjVlIOWVMoS_9uEx47ANKRfjLFE/s400/IMG_4257.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpS5zbm9sEQ28Qe8OjFfbde-DecSPb0l7vFSQpoEIl4VWKsmaAOJgDJjHNQ54O_QxOA1pd8gGFfW9e8amEc7bl5huPkJgW-mBFMtC1Vt16CB4gh3FmuBbPqFB4Gkwjo9OmeOstblhhM4/s1600-h/IMG_4374.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623978382790018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpS5zbm9sEQ28Qe8OjFfbde-DecSPb0l7vFSQpoEIl4VWKsmaAOJgDJjHNQ54O_QxOA1pd8gGFfW9e8amEc7bl5huPkJgW-mBFMtC1Vt16CB4gh3FmuBbPqFB4Gkwjo9OmeOstblhhM4/s400/IMG_4374.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqdg2nArnzr7lrOJKbls5vslrpI6OecQqQPrlI8RLM64-G6GO2hwjmxiOQYL3OLpyUUyxhDMyNiMnU5z9AV02evSqHvkTpqEF5UoQUY8DoCJcdn8oj5q8x8ZsRop0G2F6ZxfRKsNZPTI/s1600-h/IMG_4444.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622561043582274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqdg2nArnzr7lrOJKbls5vslrpI6OecQqQPrlI8RLM64-G6GO2hwjmxiOQYL3OLpyUUyxhDMyNiMnU5z9AV02evSqHvkTpqEF5UoQUY8DoCJcdn8oj5q8x8ZsRop0G2F6ZxfRKsNZPTI/s400/IMG_4444.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ7Z-897OKTe850sIq0JWdKt8dlPJNYICPo-kab6aw83bUhGpf8tEebgp2cSG7axfCrUGQ7p7lHGVTG3PxnfvWcyRB5uc5VQQcChJqUNKat_B1KS_keZJap0dm6yowecj_l-JhJNyTuYs/s1600-h/IMG_4410.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622565338549586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ7Z-897OKTe850sIq0JWdKt8dlPJNYICPo-kab6aw83bUhGpf8tEebgp2cSG7axfCrUGQ7p7lHGVTG3PxnfvWcyRB5uc5VQQcChJqUNKat_B1KS_keZJap0dm6yowecj_l-JhJNyTuYs/s400/IMG_4410.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHD_grEWhyphenhyphenknnuzTOGaFIr7uNLAn379IItgoEjv1kThLJMU0Wi2qeYvNYy3N2dL3xM7p_81uuVR4_fqDjVc5XCfjpKJTiMlohYl1wr3sQj0cVBKL9u2_CAMjxlCwpuG-Fl5qnRaspoNk/s1600-h/IMG_4388.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbu1wfIuwIFIvlqHr7dQlbPOhwjRanOXmEDVBZUXTTTN9ODdqKZc0bDxRWWl19-9-bSOK5fF0zzJE78UniG_ln9VKQJ3A7HYLJ666Ca2j4XGODXOyX9QeMC_-vG5yuFUnDOcmZB9fjsX8/s1600-h/IMG_4449.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622552453647666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbu1wfIuwIFIvlqHr7dQlbPOhwjRanOXmEDVBZUXTTTN9ODdqKZc0bDxRWWl19-9-bSOK5fF0zzJE78UniG_ln9VKQJ3A7HYLJ666Ca2j4XGODXOyX9QeMC_-vG5yuFUnDOcmZB9fjsX8/s400/IMG_4449.jpg" border="0" /></a>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-1451219880602427632008-02-11T22:03:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:16:37.201-07:00Things We Ate On The Street: ChileYou know, we really didn`t do Chile justice with regard to street food. Without a doubt, there are many more streetside culinary creations than we were able to sample. But since we were mostly camping in Chile, and then in larger cities, we didn`t get to get our fingers nearly as greasy as we should have. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTlBNMLcGqlgIjIAj_gOYQ4VMrRsKamDesspzgnVCPQ9QDXALk_y9WuTybIOuyEIKRzp7euu_o-Sg3J9vhv_dlj8jRBo-VU65j5Sq_17F1npQJaDMFNMFw7yKBKn2q3i3c-qF2tEWokE/s1600-h/IMG_3387.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165856105900499170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTlBNMLcGqlgIjIAj_gOYQ4VMrRsKamDesspzgnVCPQ9QDXALk_y9WuTybIOuyEIKRzp7euu_o-Sg3J9vhv_dlj8jRBo-VU65j5Sq_17F1npQJaDMFNMFw7yKBKn2q3i3c-qF2tEWokE/s400/IMG_3387.jpg" border="0" /></a> That being said, it`s worth noting a few treats. First of all, <em>submarinos.</em> Now, these may technically be Argentine and are more a cafe than street delicacy, but we ate them in Chile. Basically, when you ask for hot chocolate, you get a glass of warm milk and a chocolate bar shaped like a submarine to dunk in at will. Brilliant! <div></div><br /><div>And, of course, there were <em>empanadas</em> to be had. Cheesy streetside goodness. And by the time we got to San Pedro de Atacama, we were passing more salt flats than we had time to lick. But our two favorite treats were ones that we sadly didn`t capture on film. <em>Choripan</em> and <em>mote con huespillas</em> (spelling vague). The former was barbecued for us by Becca and Gonzalo, our insanely generous and lovely Santiago hosts. We had asked them about the latter, because we saw it being sold everywhere in Santiago out of rolling carts. It wasn`t in our dictionary, and we were a little wary about the dark floating bits. They explained that it was a Santiago specialty of barley soaked in sugary peach juice with peach bits added. And then, like the gracious and thoughtful duo that they are, they prepared them at home. We, too, will soon prepare this at home for any and all who want to come by! Yum!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOdv9OS_aczsf1A1TrH-AqMLaX36kqH3Iw9A9rITr5dgkp7o9vm7iCXbT6-HgUFW_AU6yCN9pZwCsbZnL7MF9KlBwr6sUCDNATqC-09bzqADa1Os946T_sIBDE75RQLRKD_pKrMecLyk/s1600-h/IMG_4065.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165856153145139442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOdv9OS_aczsf1A1TrH-AqMLaX36kqH3Iw9A9rITr5dgkp7o9vm7iCXbT6-HgUFW_AU6yCN9pZwCsbZnL7MF9KlBwr6sUCDNATqC-09bzqADa1Os946T_sIBDE75RQLRKD_pKrMecLyk/s400/IMG_4065.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtKsLl5zWjauqn_q-N8za5wwTneInf84pWvlb6tIobC2UoewfdxKHeQntrQWP2uNKY3OLRF-VQE0tZwvi409KEJfg8GxFy_6x8uk7zPIaKiLUmRDgauW3pkyZPhJWlfPb4tTBVWVAKU0/s1600-h/IMG_4110.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173604251597999058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtKsLl5zWjauqn_q-N8za5wwTneInf84pWvlb6tIobC2UoewfdxKHeQntrQWP2uNKY3OLRF-VQE0tZwvi409KEJfg8GxFy_6x8uk7zPIaKiLUmRDgauW3pkyZPhJWlfPb4tTBVWVAKU0/s400/IMG_4110.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-58020191212221609612008-02-11T14:25:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:16:21.364-07:00Chile: San Pedro de Atacama<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78DFVNSWcwVocb6TmDbdxNUIg5thlUwZpPjP8zCHmjqldKq9-a6FzGQjInLB32lIWr6l9KCuyAXwnEyXSJaEiKqkBjNgleRnLMwGEV9YT3ffgQMOOWdJQDRS07_FLmubIf2nU0rcc4mQ/s1600-h/IMG_4120.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615049145781522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78DFVNSWcwVocb6TmDbdxNUIg5thlUwZpPjP8zCHmjqldKq9-a6FzGQjInLB32lIWr6l9KCuyAXwnEyXSJaEiKqkBjNgleRnLMwGEV9YT3ffgQMOOWdJQDRS07_FLmubIf2nU0rcc4mQ/s400/IMG_4120.jpg" border="0" /></a>Twenty-three hours on the bus, countless dubbed videos, way too many saltine crackers, and very little sleep later we found ourselves on the dusty streets of San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile. As the gateway to Bolivia, the stunning scenery of the Atacama desert, and the further reaches of Chile, San Pedro is a gringo magnet extraordinaire. The one-horse main street is dominated by travel agencies, curio shops, internet cafes, and restaurants catering to vegetarians. Jumping into the fray with a ¨if you can`t beat ém¨ attitude, we joined a few organized tours, feasted on mushroom and avocado sandwiches, and gazed starry-eyed at the blissful night sky. <div></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcjh14Bd_gVJwa9Jj7dTj9nKy2qXGS3oN7YC47vqS06wZ7kiXXDWO6nrNGm3L4s0DTnJwDYgQfVk69EqVmAzlaorx-wvonhMFI9F66S0tK4RKlT8TWI5mrwThZxxvhrAxL5orPKaw-h4/s1600-h/IMG_4144.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615019081010354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcjh14Bd_gVJwa9Jj7dTj9nKy2qXGS3oN7YC47vqS06wZ7kiXXDWO6nrNGm3L4s0DTnJwDYgQfVk69EqVmAzlaorx-wvonhMFI9F66S0tK4RKlT8TWI5mrwThZxxvhrAxL5orPKaw-h4/s400/IMG_4144.jpg" border="0" /></a>We spent a late-afternoon traveling out to the Valle de Luna with a busload of Brazilian travelers. This ended up being a hilarious tour, because for some reason the guide insisted on speaking to us in French. Even after we clarified that while Kathleen spoke French, we were American. But he claimed to LOVE the French language beyond all else and couldn`t help himself. His enthusiasm was such that we gave up <strong><em>et voila! </em></strong>In any language, the sunset painting the distant mountains and volcanoes was beautiful. </div><div></div><br />The next morning we rose at 4am (UGH!) to head out to see the Tatio <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnGjYaQkx3wIhGjkfvmoGwneNHmFCdrRPj67zFB_UEndlIHez7L5y6BmSgHqAihA1zJRBSMDz3I3KgZXOqEvgKWMMjwNBVsa0n1DMUBYvqsuMmZ5d_p8bJXCNS3ZNBPWFpfq_CHiZjiQQ/s1600-h/IMG_4162.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615014786043042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnGjYaQkx3wIhGjkfvmoGwneNHmFCdrRPj67zFB_UEndlIHez7L5y6BmSgHqAihA1zJRBSMDz3I3KgZXOqEvgKWMMjwNBVsa0n1DMUBYvqsuMmZ5d_p8bJXCNS3ZNBPWFpfq_CHiZjiQQ/s400/IMG_4162.jpg" border="0" /></a>Geyser field. After bumping along a dirt road for hours and swilling down some coca tea to stave off altitude sickness at 4,200 meters (13,779 feet), we were so glad we`d made the trip. No sooner had we gotten out of the car, then the ground mere steps from us shot up a welcoming spout of steaming hello. Everywhere you turned the earth was bubbling, boiling, and steaming---it was otherworldly. And <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQKFmsuDqoCJhCzCgHPciSRxEujp5-_YyVVQeR307XvyZ65G6VezFVSukCvMCLCDc5QrZPIUUom9dqaT8QXqJZr7oogt9m3gH9y43uq4BHKHkFi0hMLO6etDq2Xgbi1dRIKpmuKvtJ64/s1600-h/IMG_4187.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173613631806573682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQKFmsuDqoCJhCzCgHPciSRxEujp5-_YyVVQeR307XvyZ65G6VezFVSukCvMCLCDc5QrZPIUUom9dqaT8QXqJZr7oogt9m3gH9y43uq4BHKHkFi0hMLO6etDq2Xgbi1dRIKpmuKvtJ64/s400/IMG_4187.jpg" border="0" /></a>sinking into a big pit of the noxious but warm water was just the thing for taking off the dawn chill. Our day ended with more gorgeous scenery, a high-altitude stroll through a box canyon resplendent with cactus, and more guilty gringo food.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmKeamucNwOCqzWp_ErahU2B8XtF5WehSpBqKC4UIL7YnaYkjay86q_ugRon5dTK5vwqaGuk9bWK7zpCGNWxLW_qyius2EhWoSBTra2xoDcuEf-r0w-aU9-edjbGUj_4X3467h0ML9cQ/s1600-h/IMG_4135.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615027670944978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmKeamucNwOCqzWp_ErahU2B8XtF5WehSpBqKC4UIL7YnaYkjay86q_ugRon5dTK5vwqaGuk9bWK7zpCGNWxLW_qyius2EhWoSBTra2xoDcuEf-r0w-aU9-edjbGUj_4X3467h0ML9cQ/s400/IMG_4135.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSm49oe4pCMIlM7E9O2d9-3Ft2ef5KjGMMoBruK6Hx6prvPhJac0Y5N9l8YLV0rINAdPxw28LVbMQ68Tjvahbw6c2cKp20bNoFzxwE8s31w8E_W2yHSOQEPftARKABYXRJgo9ig887koV/s1600-h/IMG_4121.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615036260879602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSm49oe4pCMIlM7E9O2d9-3Ft2ef5KjGMMoBruK6Hx6prvPhJac0Y5N9l8YLV0rINAdPxw28LVbMQ68Tjvahbw6c2cKp20bNoFzxwE8s31w8E_W2yHSOQEPftARKABYXRJgo9ig887koV/s400/IMG_4121.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcImIJng-wCkBjSXWoCKQ4fbMw896Rivr3gQB_DxuOZoJjVZS0N7G4i7OWOmr6fQzP0mmfQHER_NMgfF1kkT6eLeFpurfcRN4X-YrLj77i_aDkT_HwiQjrak04tO7ZyBUVe4EGQnlx_fQ/s1600-h/IMG_4180.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173613636101540994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcImIJng-wCkBjSXWoCKQ4fbMw896Rivr3gQB_DxuOZoJjVZS0N7G4i7OWOmr6fQzP0mmfQHER_NMgfF1kkT6eLeFpurfcRN4X-YrLj77i_aDkT_HwiQjrak04tO7ZyBUVe4EGQnlx_fQ/s400/IMG_4180.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZsbZyXiC0xzG2srH2LvQKxz6ktoGyT3BdQBu2HENxAdURUGm2wk4W8L63oT1GZuLTU1Nnon3fPuSCeuFTvGze2iFFLtkswLsovspGrG6xG4YmM5k5WI9Eq27aeFDQXoq8wiO3xw5ovs/s1600-h/IMG_4167.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173613640396508306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZsbZyXiC0xzG2srH2LvQKxz6ktoGyT3BdQBu2HENxAdURUGm2wk4W8L63oT1GZuLTU1Nnon3fPuSCeuFTvGze2iFFLtkswLsovspGrG6xG4YmM5k5WI9Eq27aeFDQXoq8wiO3xw5ovs/s400/IMG_4167.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpELROe_HrMroBeqopcqlLB22R6yj1a69NlR8Wpz62yd-hKiV_OW7gMmuqPssPLRnCrGYLiluMaTm4dF3CMwfp1eoIt9k2bDX-QtFJfJj3w178Axx3YKnmtjlM9uejQLRUVH-6VaFZzxE/s1600-h/IMG_4203.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173613623216639074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpELROe_HrMroBeqopcqlLB22R6yj1a69NlR8Wpz62yd-hKiV_OW7gMmuqPssPLRnCrGYLiluMaTm4dF3CMwfp1eoIt9k2bDX-QtFJfJj3w178Axx3YKnmtjlM9uejQLRUVH-6VaFZzxE/s400/IMG_4203.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6oS6EZxkhXEk4T3fvqwQuLZn5IojNYRzN4ayAj_UzBslIsAkA7vomgZOSTzCjPMw0tHinzXK5r_g8Bu68RzkDuvIcllbF41OAokbf34U7g9rBKPFejWLlCtgi_wEG-RG_0O-Yw9yiEo/s1600-h/IMG_4222.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173613614626704466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6oS6EZxkhXEk4T3fvqwQuLZn5IojNYRzN4ayAj_UzBslIsAkA7vomgZOSTzCjPMw0tHinzXK5r_g8Bu68RzkDuvIcllbF41OAokbf34U7g9rBKPFejWLlCtgi_wEG-RG_0O-Yw9yiEo/s400/IMG_4222.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dymhOhboosDt3GXvNwd3W_yiobGPBZUO_xRXKds2G_HsTzy4mEvK7W3G0gtojdOOs6UtJxEh__BB9UIm8FXOQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-67646110778939837532008-02-09T12:27:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:16:06.326-07:00Haircuts Around The World: ChileI never actually got my haircut in Chile, but we saw some excellent places for our next visit. We couldn´t help but share the pictures.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMTuCZl5ZQJB9HdkAsYHrxdkEAL58UdwnX0akIvcjQN954Ywp7BKtNlPrbIBIoqyn8QIYjP3wYsY1ar8KTvPdFgMGHWUvVT6WmvUv-uS3D3ztYETR8DG_BZeD0e0x5lvkNLxMaK2rxCw/s1600-h/IMG_3856.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169534088259526930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMTuCZl5ZQJB9HdkAsYHrxdkEAL58UdwnX0akIvcjQN954Ywp7BKtNlPrbIBIoqyn8QIYjP3wYsY1ar8KTvPdFgMGHWUvVT6WmvUv-uS3D3ztYETR8DG_BZeD0e0x5lvkNLxMaK2rxCw/s400/IMG_3856.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTCNVLlf9s8yq0ONK2OqvyIAJfiyuhjAV_nkpa7Tf4giC375pV8PEyxyn2CKP7eGMtZsk8GzabGxTpc55_q3USC7CgaYC_tSBtU8EmHCMzwZQ0VJ3_-qt-PdRog0oCvSpbBZqLIdHnoU/s1600-h/IMG_4062.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169534092554494242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTCNVLlf9s8yq0ONK2OqvyIAJfiyuhjAV_nkpa7Tf4giC375pV8PEyxyn2CKP7eGMtZsk8GzabGxTpc55_q3USC7CgaYC_tSBtU8EmHCMzwZQ0VJ3_-qt-PdRog0oCvSpbBZqLIdHnoU/s400/IMG_4062.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7C_1s7XmRwSUui9NuB6KiSSxcc2c7EIghDoMbil_7OGiVU05Ca7JfBXVHuyVqSvdW3jYdkjEhc7vj9INOoxXMr7xD0qw02XSebuTbnG_MORkiSKtkVq3OJdDa7WiwJxew2FBF7bcELM/s1600-h/IMG_4064.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169534096849461554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7C_1s7XmRwSUui9NuB6KiSSxcc2c7EIghDoMbil_7OGiVU05Ca7JfBXVHuyVqSvdW3jYdkjEhc7vj9INOoxXMr7xD0qw02XSebuTbnG_MORkiSKtkVq3OJdDa7WiwJxew2FBF7bcELM/s400/IMG_4064.jpg" border="0" /></a>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-87439362358754002062008-02-08T14:01:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:15:52.459-07:00Chile: Santiago and Valparaiso<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AiCbZaU0xAkB3La28cUNC7BGRPIt8LFMs1C-Uay0TbLDTfPZNIKYUBr7Pr94RkpXAmrsGtvUxpm9Yi6qjbHOF43Yb6GdhnIPAkJm_ttRH-PVWb9vu75uVyZNMWsPDduybLepVxvvjo4/s1600-h/IMG_4055.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165855581914488994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AiCbZaU0xAkB3La28cUNC7BGRPIt8LFMs1C-Uay0TbLDTfPZNIKYUBr7Pr94RkpXAmrsGtvUxpm9Yi6qjbHOF43Yb6GdhnIPAkJm_ttRH-PVWb9vu75uVyZNMWsPDduybLepVxvvjo4/s400/IMG_4055.jpg" border="0" /></a> We did a bit of a whistle-stop tour of Santiago and Valparaiso, doing neither justice, but loving both. We hate to think we´ve become ¨If it´s Tuesday, it must be Rome¨ type travelers, but with our departure date looming, we´ve been on a bit of fast-track to Bolivia lately. We really wanted to alight in Santiago for two reasons: both to see the former stomping grounds of Eric`s sister, who studied abroad in nearby Vina del Mar, and to catch up with an old friend of Kathleen`s from Backroads.<br /><br /><br />We spent one day tromping around the city, marveling at the Museum of Pre-Columbian Art and being equally impressed by the amazing street art. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyIYQP1_B1rrT-mhyphenhyphenqlMmG-2UFZ5CpYeZgqcdf-TkWLFV-gvZFYtjiTmdJ5RylsIgfjDSDQKB0_nBtrFxcwTp7zCfVNEXeohVkb65cnV9YqYdxxiYa6i3PApQLgGF0WATlYYBYAK1mJc/s1600-h/IMG_4052.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165855573324554370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyIYQP1_B1rrT-mhyphenhyphenqlMmG-2UFZ5CpYeZgqcdf-TkWLFV-gvZFYtjiTmdJ5RylsIgfjDSDQKB0_nBtrFxcwTp7zCfVNEXeohVkb65cnV9YqYdxxiYa6i3PApQLgGF0WATlYYBYAK1mJc/s400/IMG_4052.jpg" border="0" /></a>Then we spent the next few days wrangling with the Bolivian Embassy for visas (actually, they were incredibly gracious and the process was painless, which doesn`t really make for great stories...alas), and being spoiled by Becca and Gonzalo (her ever-charming Chileno partner), <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuGY4mE5vebOuz0ulTYPupW0shYhSo9onn95CDOBQ6JZ9MLmq6VmbN0qf5XKZmU8oczRqYZIKdEKFcimMtej5j1I9v-MujRdarix5flnUPyyRifZ967XZKZa-6pQmylEicub3ljCE07k/s1600-h/IMG_4091.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165855882562199762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuGY4mE5vebOuz0ulTYPupW0shYhSo9onn95CDOBQ6JZ9MLmq6VmbN0qf5XKZmU8oczRqYZIKdEKFcimMtej5j1I9v-MujRdarix5flnUPyyRifZ967XZKZa-6pQmylEicub3ljCE07k/s400/IMG_4091.jpg" border="0" /></a>who fed us <em>choripan</em> (barbecued sausage stuffed in dreamy bread....deelish!) and grilled meat delights and plied us with Chilean wine and their cute cat until we were afraid we might never leave. Lucky for them, we already had bus tickets to San Pedro de Atacama.<br /><br /><br /><br />Hopping on a bus to Valparaiso, we were amazed at how much it resembled San Francisco, with pastel-colored homes tumbling down the cliffs toward the ocean and bright trolleys ferrying passengers to and fro. They have these amazing historic elevators <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOUl8OMGvDoKrIZHEe-EublSBllWN_XomSeBCY0rZVfR-2gCC9n7sVCemj47YGhzzzIhyBUqwolzSnvpkjNu3OseZceQearYSwV7VXFuFQE4qMnd4A84EyIAYmeg2wKsudIECZ-cVHmw/s1600-h/IMG_4066.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165855590504423602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOUl8OMGvDoKrIZHEe-EublSBllWN_XomSeBCY0rZVfR-2gCC9n7sVCemj47YGhzzzIhyBUqwolzSnvpkjNu3OseZceQearYSwV7VXFuFQE4qMnd4A84EyIAYmeg2wKsudIECZ-cVHmw/s400/IMG_4066.jpg" border="0" /></a>to help you access the hilly terrain, and, like Santiago, more amazing street art. We felt both happy and homesick.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnecfGuHF2_gL7JPooZdUy9YyLeVVF5bSPZda70s-tb3eHRSaVKjhTiDUOFwG-G3NC59wP0en3Ve48Qq2RKD8U0t-C39mwv3tXG3ml2HydxwIsmODcru-rUtVxjjEMLqY2Wit9zipWyAU/s1600-h/IMG_4086.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165855594799390914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnecfGuHF2_gL7JPooZdUy9YyLeVVF5bSPZda70s-tb3eHRSaVKjhTiDUOFwG-G3NC59wP0en3Ve48Qq2RKD8U0t-C39mwv3tXG3ml2HydxwIsmODcru-rUtVxjjEMLqY2Wit9zipWyAU/s400/IMG_4086.jpg" border="0" /></a>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-72794688083578286802008-02-05T23:00:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:15:39.684-07:00Haircuts Around The World: Mendoza<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwq0GSNKbOdE8i9Y1XUZ10gs7Hr4Z_WRbPaf7wmwI9EhU4LF9AHzugcYdwixbkywehrE9OqmADO3cXvwVLkKmuYh5zIQCoah6WGPRJT8Z4jA0XrExbL1k8O_IvNt3XD8MtH4-p05mawco/s1600-h/IMG_4024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165853606229532642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwq0GSNKbOdE8i9Y1XUZ10gs7Hr4Z_WRbPaf7wmwI9EhU4LF9AHzugcYdwixbkywehrE9OqmADO3cXvwVLkKmuYh5zIQCoah6WGPRJT8Z4jA0XrExbL1k8O_IvNt3XD8MtH4-p05mawco/s400/IMG_4024.jpg" border="0" /></a>It has been a month since my last haircut and, and I was begining to shy away from the public because of my long hair. Although nobody said it, I knew they were thinking, ¨what is a hippie like you doing in this town.¨ Then again, I know that some readers have trouble telling the difference between the before and after photos. We had a surprisingly hard time finding any place in Mendoza, but once we found one we quickly found a few more. Arsenio (no relation to Arsinio Hall) was up to the task.<br /><br />The peliqularia was clean and had nice tango music playing in the background. I now know enough haircut Spanish to get by on my own and secure a clean cut. A simple clipper #1 on top with a #2 or #3 for the beard. The straight edge razor blade came out late in the game, but he used shaving cream (which is somewhat rare). He did not take great care around the mustache, which is an important place to get right in Kathleen´s view. Everything else went smoothly and he added some after shave loation to my beard, which left me smelling like the haircut place for the rest of the day. Overall, a 6 out of 10.<br /><br />As for why my head is cut, I walked into a tree. There are a few low hanging tree limbs on the streets of Mendoza, and when night falls they become hazards for tall Americans. It hurts!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnvroElUiPXLtmpHTO2FL90dutUojJ4OIiJLRjxhHpKgaVfjC77jcUnfVvdjiu8fMLxQhQvUX93fgjwejKALawVeiXTn7_l0pFQhDHN-XavhGpxKCXTlBPKnNQIhbwa1U83B0ItO7dWQ/s1600-h/IMG_4023.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165853601934565330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnvroElUiPXLtmpHTO2FL90dutUojJ4OIiJLRjxhHpKgaVfjC77jcUnfVvdjiu8fMLxQhQvUX93fgjwejKALawVeiXTn7_l0pFQhDHN-XavhGpxKCXTlBPKnNQIhbwa1U83B0ItO7dWQ/s400/IMG_4023.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixNy6r0ewkylYg6AXwxjCc8H8CfmUkqR2Dqn6_Hhp5FmonNgNQz_vf0kzKzKcCriSVSef5yL1I7OEKuClj5R7nS543Y6B4XOZTFs5R-gfJhCOUgn-zKnjETIltKUZtp4B7_ix5TNax25k/s1600-h/IMG_4025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165853610524499954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixNy6r0ewkylYg6AXwxjCc8H8CfmUkqR2Dqn6_Hhp5FmonNgNQz_vf0kzKzKcCriSVSef5yL1I7OEKuClj5R7nS543Y6B4XOZTFs5R-gfJhCOUgn-zKnjETIltKUZtp4B7_ix5TNax25k/s400/IMG_4025.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /></span></span>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-10226248143433594402008-02-05T22:06:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:15:23.832-07:00Things We Ate On The Street: Argentina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuBT13c1ahsQFuWgY6qUQjb80reazkcyt267o9vXR-fLO8ffsy9qKI_Svb93ecJ0T0MNAEM4nPJwi4fTVYusqE53-RuMlYUaHiWADEcnmUMN-TJk1R4c7RbSGDqBpuvcoyFeGZ12Lpsw/s1600-h/IMG_3111.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165855075108348018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuBT13c1ahsQFuWgY6qUQjb80reazkcyt267o9vXR-fLO8ffsy9qKI_Svb93ecJ0T0MNAEM4nPJwi4fTVYusqE53-RuMlYUaHiWADEcnmUMN-TJk1R4c7RbSGDqBpuvcoyFeGZ12Lpsw/s400/IMG_3111.jpg" border="0" /></a>It seems like we should have more to post in this entry, as we literally ate our way through Argentina, but streetside vendors seemed to be less popular in the regions we visited. For the most part, we ate tons of delicious <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">helado </span>(ice cream) whenever we could buy it (which was almost always). Taking their Italian <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">gelato </span>roots and doing them one better (we didn't know it was possible!), the ice-cream in Argentina is the best we've ever had, and we've done some pretty thorough research. Our other favorite streetfood was the <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">pan relleno</span>, delicious homemade bread stuffed with anything from corn and carrots to ham and cheese. We even managed to get Eric's parents involved in this special culinary mission. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Buen provecho!<br /><br /></span>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-29058931312202951942008-02-05T10:20:00.002-08:002008-08-12T17:15:06.173-07:00Argentina: Mendoza<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiaapAkN4yufdNOqbt2nbBs-ohg4S86jhqI6pYlxCvLCWN4YpPMNUwYbsRGYpB5ndC1mb5YJ02tDYD-BHX84lzs92J6UAV6go30q5WYyIsg4sV1UKd0S1sBOw1wfLBRtQOac3eiHevYY/s1600-h/IMG_4002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169524549137162498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiaapAkN4yufdNOqbt2nbBs-ohg4S86jhqI6pYlxCvLCWN4YpPMNUwYbsRGYpB5ndC1mb5YJ02tDYD-BHX84lzs92J6UAV6go30q5WYyIsg4sV1UKd0S1sBOw1wfLBRtQOac3eiHevYY/s400/IMG_4002.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMcHqx5HVdPCgTChQlgzCSuQmPUD0DXEdWoVNCvAoSBAtMW4S8pWHuzSnVROnUGi1qc9xwkmAEJ6EmqQ7f89zGCqzYpam6noweh1_8a_oaeDGpQrycqWfTmanroyetk_5ahK9ULmcSuc/s1600-h/IMG_4016.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165854400798482466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMcHqx5HVdPCgTChQlgzCSuQmPUD0DXEdWoVNCvAoSBAtMW4S8pWHuzSnVROnUGi1qc9xwkmAEJ6EmqQ7f89zGCqzYpam6noweh1_8a_oaeDGpQrycqWfTmanroyetk_5ahK9ULmcSuc/s400/IMG_4016.jpg" border="0" /></a>We´ve been drinking enough Argentine red wine that we figured we owed it to ourselves to journey to the heart of Malbec. Organized wine tours were a bit pricier than we wanted to shell out, so we went back to our roots and rented bikes to do a little tasting on our own in the Maipu region. Rolling from vineyard to vineyard, we marveled at the intricate canal system that waters Argentine grapes. Very cool and interesting. And the lack of hills makes for easy pedaling within view of the snowcapped Andes. And the more we drank, the easier and more beautiful it seemed! We also visited a chocolate- and liquor-producer, and Eric had his first taste of absinthe. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcNHClIAuqRgj1yW4dW-0aAdWw9TwjLf55UUPTdK84jmN7eI69J9MlHXJkq3zVMwlBd8gO_tBhOS_QeTUQdgeZefRhpVJ7boiTljwi-iEK019EGYkW1g2Llk4JPDsVeN8vRVMyhkyXeaw/s1600-h/IMG_4010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165854396503515154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcNHClIAuqRgj1yW4dW-0aAdWw9TwjLf55UUPTdK84jmN7eI69J9MlHXJkq3zVMwlBd8gO_tBhOS_QeTUQdgeZefRhpVJ7boiTljwi-iEK019EGYkW1g2Llk4JPDsVeN8vRVMyhkyXeaw/s400/IMG_4010.jpg" border="0" /></a>The rumors are true---it does make you crazy! What we especially loved was the warm reception from everyone we met. Mendoza has to be one of the friendliest places we´ve visited.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCMKvGAlZ59XTX9bqDgvH7guM6fsrkNXshm7fKQmAFwlYzwuSipFsGztigEixhNPYw1nPUgQeS4BBltL5-MTLIHgQned7aEiaLTKbUYN8a7mL1zB4p30kVJEOL22BzDYTOgkeWxOglkQ/s1600-h/IMG_4029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165854671381422162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCMKvGAlZ59XTX9bqDgvH7guM6fsrkNXshm7fKQmAFwlYzwuSipFsGztigEixhNPYw1nPUgQeS4BBltL5-MTLIHgQned7aEiaLTKbUYN8a7mL1zB4p30kVJEOL22BzDYTOgkeWxOglkQ/s400/IMG_4029.jpg" border="0" /></a>The next evening we traded our bike saddles for saddle sores, climbing upon some trusty Argentine steeds with a real gaucho. We knew he was legit, because he had on a beret and a woven belt, and he could still ride while talking in rapid Spanish on his cell phone. Impressive. Despite being a stone's throw from town, it felt like we had really gotten away on our <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoa_iQAmHZ2eAGUeLowa65iz7pPgyzDMGU6ThUoVrsPLy2LKeBy_L-BNhk-x2W9dZiQVV5t8jCkX-G19lKaJmOcuOYNDtpM20NIV9nOox2yFzXwQRvXnDi0GblzOtQCFJFAjyQ6chryoI/s1600-h/IMG_4031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165854701446193250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoa_iQAmHZ2eAGUeLowa65iz7pPgyzDMGU6ThUoVrsPLy2LKeBy_L-BNhk-x2W9dZiQVV5t8jCkX-G19lKaJmOcuOYNDtpM20NIV9nOox2yFzXwQRvXnDi0GblzOtQCFJFAjyQ6chryoI/s400/IMG_4031.jpg" border="0" /></a>sunset ride into the mountains. The ride was to be followed by a traditional <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">asado </span>(barbecue), and they started up a fire to make charcoal when we returned. And we waited. And waited. Three hours and many hungry guitar rounds later, we sank our teeth into some tasty and SLOW cooked <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">carne</span>. Truly one of the best meals we had in Argentina. The next morning, we ran for the bus to Santiago, Chile, and Kathleen discovered blisters and sore muscles on every part that moved. This seemed inexplicable, as we only had a two-hour ride, and it was fairly obvious that the horse had done most of the work. Perhaps it was from the death grip on the saddle when we galloped? Either way, it was the perfect end to our Argentine escapades.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsumt-pPvRCfwpBNpFoYlyvQ-yyHOeVT_a5iQ_mSOnv-UxhW5ommCACmDo7Yx-l-wceV9p4gbDToVZqhYjY-KbCL8KLL0aUlFn8QgNfAAspa88DytvgJwys_2KJtbj9LBh4bGRAPbx4rg/s1600-h/IMG_4018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165854405093449778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsumt-pPvRCfwpBNpFoYlyvQ-yyHOeVT_a5iQ_mSOnv-UxhW5ommCACmDo7Yx-l-wceV9p4gbDToVZqhYjY-KbCL8KLL0aUlFn8QgNfAAspa88DytvgJwys_2KJtbj9LBh4bGRAPbx4rg/s400/IMG_4018.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdRjURHIfVO70dn4agmp6bM7wrNH0qQgvRowsUZ_gUkJBDoCabevX4crVFBjGE80RQkDGSduPptj9HdykljwM9LAaQMMtoDIIftft9kouR_Yc4HFYwgpcH_lSF_sMssIrJ2gCTmrWneM/s1600-h/IMG_4020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165854409388417090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdRjURHIfVO70dn4agmp6bM7wrNH0qQgvRowsUZ_gUkJBDoCabevX4crVFBjGE80RQkDGSduPptj9HdykljwM9LAaQMMtoDIIftft9kouR_Yc4HFYwgpcH_lSF_sMssIrJ2gCTmrWneM/s400/IMG_4020.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-58871349607034890602008-02-01T10:20:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:14:54.181-07:00Argentina: Lakes District<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5GWxDrYkQOD8EXzIdruiCKIL0eZktR9V-efEEMJzAyuowlLE6Z8D8YJ8dLXwRQot7N2d6T52H0NBUdvs7jZu7k81Kl5BYBTPO0EP2mdg4cov2eord8XstX80zdsL8LxI7dD1ii5hncw/s1600-h/IMG_3927.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165852038566469538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5GWxDrYkQOD8EXzIdruiCKIL0eZktR9V-efEEMJzAyuowlLE6Z8D8YJ8dLXwRQot7N2d6T52H0NBUdvs7jZu7k81Kl5BYBTPO0EP2mdg4cov2eord8XstX80zdsL8LxI7dD1ii5hncw/s400/IMG_3927.jpg" border="0" /></a>Stumbling off the boat, we lugged our bags to the bus station and hopped aboard a Bariloche-bound bus to explore Argentina´s Lake District. Nothing like a good 8-hour bus ride after a 4-day ferry ride. So much for getting in shape in Torres del Paine. Doh! But within 24-hours we had our packs (loaded down with pasta, oatmeal, and hot cocoa powder) on again, and we set off for a 4-day jaunt in Nahuel Huape National Park. We met a charming Aussie on the bus to the trailhead, and we ended up becoming traveling partners for the next 5 days. Much fun. Despite the fact that Ben convinced us to hoof it up the mountain, as opposed to taking <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOp3z-PXu3aaeYYClLpHuiak5FKwI6_E-r6ajePD843PXQNmhA6qMrFu2j378EYwzB0yGGDR1QLEOHoNvrP98L1Aln3pe_wxQVA56QZ49FiQLahjNyWOY0wuY31p4SEA2jvQgLDqi8e0/s1600-h/IMG_3934.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165851441566015362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOp3z-PXu3aaeYYClLpHuiak5FKwI6_E-r6ajePD843PXQNmhA6qMrFu2j378EYwzB0yGGDR1QLEOHoNvrP98L1Aln3pe_wxQVA56QZ49FiQLahjNyWOY0wuY31p4SEA2jvQgLDqi8e0/s400/IMG_3934.jpg" border="0" /></a>the chairlift like the Lonely Planet suggested, he was excellent company. And he had a backpack full of chocolate. Nice!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4mMT1pq4_69aMjLHBtM2Z0WIWKsffJglmxvieP1dNY2Wo2BgtNNm7Uf-etA0C1hD3s6kpAU_xA5hoc_IeboY2tm2e-We12JeeAp5899TFHxplX16OKRNoHvyLvof5PEeBfk44y1-794/s1600-h/IMG_3915.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165852051451371458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4mMT1pq4_69aMjLHBtM2Z0WIWKsffJglmxvieP1dNY2Wo2BgtNNm7Uf-etA0C1hD3s6kpAU_xA5hoc_IeboY2tm2e-We12JeeAp5899TFHxplX16OKRNoHvyLvof5PEeBfk44y1-794/s400/IMG_3915.jpg" border="0" /></a>We told ourselves that we were going to do this trip in a bit of luxurious style, staying in the mountain huts instead of packing a tent. We envisioned all sorts of camaraderie with our fellow refugio-mates, where we´d all play guitar and sing and then slip quietly into comfy warm beds. What we´d forgotten, however, is that mountain huts are called refuges (and not hotels or inns or bed-and-breakfasts) for a reason. Pack 20 stinky hikers into a stuffy room with dirty mattresses, and you have a recipe for snoring, sweating, and unbelievable stench. Glamorous, no? There´s a reason we try and avoid youth hostel dorms, and it´s not just because we´re too old and married. Eric killed a giant wolf spider within inches of his head the first night. Sweet dreams.<br /><br />But the settings were divine. And the hiking was outrageously beautiful (and kinda hard!). And because it was so hot out, you could actually swim in the lakes, which was fantastic. Or sometimes just dip your head in, if you were feeling a tad <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzEGaTou4prL2RlrfVL0edE2g9N3HbrQHoe59293m96MjC4hxu_P3pJwhQxcMT3Z1JPVn06QFawh6j_wgN38u1QKgq_CTUkRJ-_I7LpbxbppC7S13toR8n1q6rJ6ZRkADL0stz2KkO-U/s1600-h/IMG_3920-2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165852042861436850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzEGaTou4prL2RlrfVL0edE2g9N3HbrQHoe59293m96MjC4hxu_P3pJwhQxcMT3Z1JPVn06QFawh6j_wgN38u1QKgq_CTUkRJ-_I7LpbxbppC7S13toR8n1q6rJ6ZRkADL0stz2KkO-U/s400/IMG_3920-2.jpg" border="0" /></a>wimpy and cold. And we did hear a little guitar and <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">charanga </span>(an instrument of the Andes with a lovely twangy sound) one afternoon. And our Aussie friend Ben brought a flute, which was great. And while we got somewhat used to the snoring every night, we never got used to the blood-sucking bite and insanity-inducing buzz of the <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">tabones</span>, a vicious type of horsefly. We call this lakeside video <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The flight of the Tabone</span>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4md922mnzdN0mNRvWbVSmxIIB_RP9noQaTqvGswjXg3wrMwHMI5nEDgkvs4VBcV7OCxOR5xFmqVPSaOdKp0nGjuVZA_T9JDXDcmv8CfWvuIaVCY9vhFjVwdsV3kkVfFkS7eSTerRzWNc/s1600-h/IMG_3930.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165851991321829266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4md922mnzdN0mNRvWbVSmxIIB_RP9noQaTqvGswjXg3wrMwHMI5nEDgkvs4VBcV7OCxOR5xFmqVPSaOdKp0nGjuVZA_T9JDXDcmv8CfWvuIaVCY9vhFjVwdsV3kkVfFkS7eSTerRzWNc/s400/IMG_3930.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_g3HUPLcScJTb2XcBJ_HFE9jRQ6O88l298qfcbHmwdNtUaQnOq_X-Mn8TkEmf7AEs52-Tw7dfcCn-11Rj2KYfSfGdhAWAwyjU8_-sQ8ATZ9ANn2chK0CfW9XmivHc6qCQr4FkflL92Y/s1600-h/IMG_3969.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165851377141505874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_g3HUPLcScJTb2XcBJ_HFE9jRQ6O88l298qfcbHmwdNtUaQnOq_X-Mn8TkEmf7AEs52-Tw7dfcCn-11Rj2KYfSfGdhAWAwyjU8_-sQ8ATZ9ANn2chK0CfW9XmivHc6qCQr4FkflL92Y/s400/IMG_3969.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsAoJKBE7JwmkOgt_4sUToFDxbYnCmPyo0-ffkCanjm3c1jPB5j1ntNBnQEwrBFh7oT-N-2_6vQ6sVYV1jTpnTKTFUBtCsgjq_6PRj7Him9yvua9kvn9u3ZWsBlpxOp-3VG802x-biJU/s1600-h/IMG_3957.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165851381436473186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsAoJKBE7JwmkOgt_4sUToFDxbYnCmPyo0-ffkCanjm3c1jPB5j1ntNBnQEwrBFh7oT-N-2_6vQ6sVYV1jTpnTKTFUBtCsgjq_6PRj7Him9yvua9kvn9u3ZWsBlpxOp-3VG802x-biJU/s400/IMG_3957.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPNzFuKi5Xb3ZtlZwx-M8hK9B25gK2w_WFqV2Xp89UGm0BBcetsDSG3V73tKra1zeJt3O4e99sBFERXtoinD2QcwbUYjZ4gIvrowhhs-I1PymvBazATuoAwDqUzLjwZm_q9O0MyFW5l1M/s1600-h/IMG_3949.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165851415796211570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPNzFuKi5Xb3ZtlZwx-M8hK9B25gK2w_WFqV2Xp89UGm0BBcetsDSG3V73tKra1zeJt3O4e99sBFERXtoinD2QcwbUYjZ4gIvrowhhs-I1PymvBazATuoAwDqUzLjwZm_q9O0MyFW5l1M/s400/IMG_3949.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8g8l5nkhambSZM5XaOBXuAKxK7WSvAiXTz8v16qBA2O-qQymIpDMsh0KQFx0kIKy2BBR0BoeDMCQucDAJebNpC7mzwRQjuoXxTo1GUvnIZInuF8n2y-pCKQVBENYU0c5cvIWXIg7acLw/s1600-h/IMG_3978.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165851282652225346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8g8l5nkhambSZM5XaOBXuAKxK7WSvAiXTz8v16qBA2O-qQymIpDMsh0KQFx0kIKy2BBR0BoeDMCQucDAJebNpC7mzwRQjuoXxTo1GUvnIZInuF8n2y-pCKQVBENYU0c5cvIWXIg7acLw/s400/IMG_3978.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyAHMIO1MmHL711Bb2qgKBV6UmuIQjKezwrQnMKI-q4sW8Lk5kzINnc2Ghb9xXo4nosZZDVA8Z44f6xYYeaDQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-33316254226471462142008-01-28T10:19:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:14:38.847-07:00Chile: Navimag Across The Open Seas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6m3OrsA_jHPXlyDOHtj_c9aWAWZXVggV4wj1C8iIpE_B7oHyloR3z4GgL0Pv-qNL3Oi3Hwa6MB9_s4rjev7dz4WJPn8OSglde6rY_u65BYHJzIZTrWdr2CdMq5ajm0OlY4DQKpZhlv8/s1600-h/IMG_3857.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165849294082367282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6m3OrsA_jHPXlyDOHtj_c9aWAWZXVggV4wj1C8iIpE_B7oHyloR3z4GgL0Pv-qNL3Oi3Hwa6MB9_s4rjev7dz4WJPn8OSglde6rY_u65BYHJzIZTrWdr2CdMq5ajm0OlY4DQKpZhlv8/s400/IMG_3857.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Atencion Pasajeros! </span>Retiring our hiking boots for awhile, we boarded the Navimag to ferry our way northward from Puerto Natales to Puerto Montt. Unbelievably, this is one of the most efficient ways to travel this stretch of Chile, as the land is a broken (and beautiful) mass of fjords, islands, and snowcapped peaks. Eric was a tad nervous, as just looking at pictures of boats often makes him queasy, but we stocked up on anti-nausea medicine and hit the decks for adventure. Eric nervously took his first sealegs pill within moments of boarding, claiming the boat was moving, despite the fact that we weren´t scheduled to depart until <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbLeI7aBlvS3hSpN4_d7jI1m85Kr3COCi1l5LT3n9NnpFbHkEhyphenhyphenyRl7CqadbSfftHbz7E76XV3MDfcdpOVJQLrdpvc2UCLQcSyA2yv5tqHHosG_2z2XJRO1HbG6Jmi3dTIlfmZq2wM3QU/s1600-h/IMG_3867.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165849289787399970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbLeI7aBlvS3hSpN4_d7jI1m85Kr3COCi1l5LT3n9NnpFbHkEhyphenhyphenyRl7CqadbSfftHbz7E76XV3MDfcdpOVJQLrdpvc2UCLQcSyA2yv5tqHHosG_2z2XJRO1HbG6Jmi3dTIlfmZq2wM3QU/s400/IMG_3867.jpg" border="0" /></a>the next morning. Reports indicate, however, that he did not respond well to teasing on this issue. But happily, for the most part it was smooth sailing past glaciers and undeveloped mountain scenery. We glided past sea otters, dolphins, and even blue whales spouting in the far distance.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiPzqPKpTU_dh8X2NQ5xMOEzlZwxYL2APpQNvluEpI3-3D5D3nyfyXQpkEGrCoSNxO5gqI9AaBWAktr8KEUIqePP5jDQtOfGTrj49CYmz7WIDRY9d93ZOs84hRVccrnb6uLLCbm6tUuI/s1600-h/IMG_3907.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165847941167668946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiPzqPKpTU_dh8X2NQ5xMOEzlZwxYL2APpQNvluEpI3-3D5D3nyfyXQpkEGrCoSNxO5gqI9AaBWAktr8KEUIqePP5jDQtOfGTrj49CYmz7WIDRY9d93ZOs84hRVccrnb6uLLCbm6tUuI/s400/IMG_3907.jpg" border="0" /></a>With bunk beds, a shared bathroom for 22 of us per dorm cabin, and a dining room that was the spitting image of a junior high cafeteria, it wasn´t exactly the Love Boat. Not that we expected it to be, since it´s mainly a cargo boat that now caters to the backpacking set. Evidently in the winter, the cow to human ratio is stacked firmly in the bovine´s favor. But when the sun was shining on the deck, it felt like a decadent cruise. We ran into a charming Dutch couple that we´d met in Torres del Paine, and we spent much of our time drinking wine and swapping tall tales with them, amidst the constant multi-lingual announcements letting you know <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4ctORhHeY68ucCxjebVETMnzqD7g4EtWFO0kzaIPn3cy0tviCvGMXqWUQLBrKGJeMgnWHoL9xC8Lc39OBshR-ogl-SmDmjWkbtB_ELwy_iPGnoc-kQHWSjNEqVUgSrYO2teRTURIsrg/s1600-h/IMG_3879.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165847958347538178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4ctORhHeY68ucCxjebVETMnzqD7g4EtWFO0kzaIPn3cy0tviCvGMXqWUQLBrKGJeMgnWHoL9xC8Lc39OBshR-ogl-SmDmjWkbtB_ELwy_iPGnoc-kQHWSjNEqVUgSrYO2teRTURIsrg/s400/IMG_3879.jpg" border="0" /></a>everything from when to eat, when to take pictures, when to take seasickness pills, and when to use the bathroom (practically). Sometimes these announcements came on at full volume at 6:30am, followed by a lengthy interlude of new age underwater music, which made us grumpy.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpE_aGlgZCC1g5SjfVPuN_HMkbQY3ytKVGYpGTJ85azmbv_TBtvFIZp9JZPaAhDn2jbah2GVbBMKmjDLP-9Ln6v28cVUR7Mnnbcz888HinI_WvnlAvLvVnVDfJm0ek30cYn5hWKfBS-H8/s1600-h/IMG_3887.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165847954052570866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpE_aGlgZCC1g5SjfVPuN_HMkbQY3ytKVGYpGTJ85azmbv_TBtvFIZp9JZPaAhDn2jbah2GVbBMKmjDLP-9Ln6v28cVUR7Mnnbcz888HinI_WvnlAvLvVnVDfJm0ek30cYn5hWKfBS-H8/s400/IMG_3887.jpg" border="0" /></a>Seeing the Amial Glacier was a highlight, and the crew sent a zodiac boat out into the water to collect ice for the bar. Classy. We easily became accustomed to lazy days with nothing to do but re-enact scenes from Titanic (without the sinking part), read, nap, and drink wine until the stars came out. Lovely. At times the boat felt like a floating bar full of adventurers with stories to tell. One of our favorites was the surfer blonde Canadian who wore a white linen suit to dinner (in the cafeteria) and a shark tooth around his neck and told exaggerated tales of his time in Borneo. His traveling partner was a long-haired German sporting a lumberjack shirt with the sleeves torn off that he met in the airport. They were a reality TV show waiting to happen. As they say on the Navimag (several times a day), <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">for your attention, thank you very much. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5XN1qmPYpcs6N0WWhQxq4hy0EQTevoDiz7Jnbx6tbxjy5rj2TE-6KOiGARfE13UMHhg9CsaEgSnaAKVBLbOqy5tCy166HxFnUr-o4zZbOYRC-XJVW9CJkX7AMzwohbtpi8vB2lkxRjs/s1600-h/IMG_3893.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165847949757603554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5XN1qmPYpcs6N0WWhQxq4hy0EQTevoDiz7Jnbx6tbxjy5rj2TE-6KOiGARfE13UMHhg9CsaEgSnaAKVBLbOqy5tCy166HxFnUr-o4zZbOYRC-XJVW9CJkX7AMzwohbtpi8vB2lkxRjs/s400/IMG_3893.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccnDgbvDGGyh0sotfUIYWyInoveGPbwo2ILOVNbCx66ifEWo_bkseSFUlm5ConOaLKHVrSuWBOLIi6hz0OT_VgDy8w1PSH9GsdaaWw5b6_cW_duTDqxKnk6wDAXCX0TYCIai3nLKaBZ0/s1600-h/IMG_3874.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165847962642505490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccnDgbvDGGyh0sotfUIYWyInoveGPbwo2ILOVNbCx66ifEWo_bkseSFUlm5ConOaLKHVrSuWBOLIi6hz0OT_VgDy8w1PSH9GsdaaWw5b6_cW_duTDqxKnk6wDAXCX0TYCIai3nLKaBZ0/s400/IMG_3874.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /><br /></span>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-12677343830189163912008-01-24T11:59:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:14:26.591-07:00Chile: Puerto Natales Puppy Gang<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJ0hy2wt_zBQ5Ieql0O9a4pxnqKoPzJwCCjfTvaMUjnvPiBdYy9guOIYujA8oaI6i08rzCUTZ_YSpaSkE8O4Vi6tJlGG-mYloNFZji29NKUxbRLQxnTniltHkyB28457ikzU-xo4kCbg/s1600-h/IMG_3580.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159139987600075778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJ0hy2wt_zBQ5Ieql0O9a4pxnqKoPzJwCCjfTvaMUjnvPiBdYy9guOIYujA8oaI6i08rzCUTZ_YSpaSkE8O4Vi6tJlGG-mYloNFZji29NKUxbRLQxnTniltHkyB28457ikzU-xo4kCbg/s320/IMG_3580.jpg" border="0" /></a> Okay, this one´s for the softies out there. But Puerto Natales runs amuck with stray dogs. This is heartbreaking, of course, and a real problem all over Chile where puppies are loved, but then often left to fend for themselves when they get older. Spaying and neutering is the exception rather than the rule. It´s rather crazy to see these large packs of dogs roaming all over, but they never seem aggressive or dangerous. Rather they sort of seem like lads out on the town, looking for leftovers or recruiting new members. And oddly, they almost always seem to run with other dogs their own size. There´s the group of shaggy mid-sized dogs. The larger group of bigger dogs. And, on our hostel street, there was a gang of puppies. They would waddle up the street en masse and then scramble through this hole in a fence. There were usually five or six all together, but some were camera shy. Anyone want us to mail one home to them?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qt-VKo2bVz_9aCQM3IMsEtl-AH6kziXF0FA0CnSb2AjfDYtytM9p12b0g0B8zufVRgD8HYSiIOMUfhrah0t6ousxcnn4qnmLJAZVmJuzLzS_c7OOAacx74k8o0vv39yLQ3d39mKVZ88/s1600-h/IMG_3849.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159140047729617938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qt-VKo2bVz_9aCQM3IMsEtl-AH6kziXF0FA0CnSb2AjfDYtytM9p12b0g0B8zufVRgD8HYSiIOMUfhrah0t6ousxcnn4qnmLJAZVmJuzLzS_c7OOAacx74k8o0vv39yLQ3d39mKVZ88/s320/IMG_3849.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-55303839797278703772008-01-24T11:53:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:13:49.165-07:00Chile: Torres del Paine National Park<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiUtCT7YqP2lYA-UNo4vMzMlBVjtzNZwDRsFdT369vvuDCEGmYpXtU42G5c5ihY3y61pPU-_2hgKVtHa4vmXHmTnm9IIGk8_22U5YhjZKftyPK6ZuHPsgVsrCVMCOwnlZa8ciGet79GQ/s1600-h/IMG_3603.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159138329742699474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiUtCT7YqP2lYA-UNo4vMzMlBVjtzNZwDRsFdT369vvuDCEGmYpXtU42G5c5ihY3y61pPU-_2hgKVtHa4vmXHmTnm9IIGk8_22U5YhjZKftyPK6ZuHPsgVsrCVMCOwnlZa8ciGet79GQ/s320/IMG_3603.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLBWI8ZlQjzmSsRQxDod6UHrtS3cumbNP14W33y9iv686QnSAbWvLx4r4lQnZLoSM5vQJYjMkwp6yySC2oWC8gYra_6kG4XCiUw2BNkX9CNPqVxbFU0BeSjUCGkeSU2YAu_r6mxGyakU/s1600-h/IMG_3588.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159138952512957426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLBWI8ZlQjzmSsRQxDod6UHrtS3cumbNP14W33y9iv686QnSAbWvLx4r4lQnZLoSM5vQJYjMkwp6yySC2oWC8gYra_6kG4XCiUw2BNkX9CNPqVxbFU0BeSjUCGkeSU2YAu_r6mxGyakU/s320/IMG_3588.jpg" border="0" /></a>Kathleen has dreamed of visiting Chile´s Torres del Paine for over a decade, so expectations were big. Happily, the mountains were even bigger, and we enjoyed nine glorious days of backcountry bliss. After crossing the Chilean border, we had less than 24 hours in Puerto Natales to do laundry, rent a tent and stove, buy our food, call home, reserve our ferry and send a few postcards. Thankfully, we managed all this AND even had time for a late-night pisco sour. Sleep would come later.<br /><br /><br />Packs on, we set off to see as much of the park as we could. Curiosity got the best of us, and we decided to tackle the revered Paine Circuit and the ¨W,¨ a fast-track to the park´s greatest hits. Since we can´t imagine that anyone would want to read a blow-by-blow of our trip (oatmeal breakfasts, peanut butter and crackers, hike, cheese-n-crackers, hike, pasta, sleep, do over), we´re instead including a few highlights. We hiked a lot of miles, but we always left time to stop and smell the flowers.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSg4FZvbQj9xiBU9EkbKaxUzkFBltw9bQcrl5gdYXRjPMOSP7ekA5qfU2KTNHQ3eTLCGV2CkqR6eLlJOyHwJXiyfpCCzag5DiEPj8BzD585Hyn7gUlkG3wFicuoKCwh2lhbZ6xjh9UAM/s1600-h/IMG_3594.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159138329742699490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSg4FZvbQj9xiBU9EkbKaxUzkFBltw9bQcrl5gdYXRjPMOSP7ekA5qfU2KTNHQ3eTLCGV2CkqR6eLlJOyHwJXiyfpCCzag5DiEPj8BzD585Hyn7gUlkG3wFicuoKCwh2lhbZ6xjh9UAM/s320/IMG_3594.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />People: We met people from all over the world, which was much of the fun. And they had all manner of gear and experience. Often with literally everything on their back and feet rented. We met one crazy Brit who was doing 13 hour days with rented boots. On day one he already had blisters that would make a mountaineer cry. And he had failed to pack a lighter for his stove or a water bottle. But he was only 20, and youth seemed to be on his side. Plus, we can´t make too much fun, because we later learned that we had gained our own reputation at the first campground when our tent was literally being blown onto our faces with the gale-force winds. That´s what we get for being the last ones up, giving everyone time to witness our poor staking job. Throughout the week, people would mention having seen our tent (and offered to help us stake it). Doh!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7ya0IMRTkbNKJI_NvE6HGJ-yIIFVzOb0-roZi92O6JcvqN5SfJzYuExv56M51S8Qicbm6PDlYdbQ7WZAKZ_uQ4PFuow5bUdyAdk7U05CgrVqjva91AU1bbskcjmIvIPeeMJZzhacJcA/s1600-h/IMG_3658.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159137457864338290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7ya0IMRTkbNKJI_NvE6HGJ-yIIFVzOb0-roZi92O6JcvqN5SfJzYuExv56M51S8Qicbm6PDlYdbQ7WZAKZ_uQ4PFuow5bUdyAdk7U05CgrVqjva91AU1bbskcjmIvIPeeMJZzhacJcA/s320/IMG_3658.jpg" border="0" /></a>Vino Caliente: While we certainly don´t advocate having a lot of man-made structures in the backcountry, who are we to argue when they sell boxes of cheap, red wine? Luckily, thanks to our friend Lu´s brilliant advice, we had prepared for this by buying cinammon sticks and dried orange slices and ginger and brown sugar in Puerto Natales. So each night we were able to stave off the cold (and the sore muscles) by brewing up a pot of mulled wine. Highly recommended. Especially when accompanied with Toblerone dark chocolate. Not that we would have ever been that indulgent. Oh no.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jcScwsfPElYqr6YB5cX-49JhIImhnQIU_er4kd-jLRyA81P0PfGQm4JIgPsHAuJ-lOL1DfhMJmpOL5TnkY6cTCc1lGzYlvSLlFZFwa0sspYf2hw78a0yeI56FzbE5aoOvyAYSBva9Go/s1600-h/IMG_3706.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159136482906762050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jcScwsfPElYqr6YB5cX-49JhIImhnQIU_er4kd-jLRyA81P0PfGQm4JIgPsHAuJ-lOL1DfhMJmpOL5TnkY6cTCc1lGzYlvSLlFZFwa0sspYf2hw78a0yeI56FzbE5aoOvyAYSBva9Go/s320/IMG_3706.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UQkzNSeMaa7wuAx2ea0W8ISjnImudBIN8t8iQBWQebREzqa8HU2cjMf_M_jZ1KoVRr4i1K1_hEvJk2NgfvgJRTHz1LJABoHWOchSc-xsIZtahKK2J8UYzDCLFdef-3wla91PnMQpKws/s1600-h/IMG_3617.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159138325447732162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UQkzNSeMaa7wuAx2ea0W8ISjnImudBIN8t8iQBWQebREzqa8HU2cjMf_M_jZ1KoVRr4i1K1_hEvJk2NgfvgJRTHz1LJABoHWOchSc-xsIZtahKK2J8UYzDCLFdef-3wla91PnMQpKws/s320/IMG_3617.jpg" border="0" /></a>Walking sticks: We are completely won over. Admittedly we at first thought these were kinda dorky. But then some of our favorite and coolest hiking partners, like AC and Malsy, started swearing by them. And since our knees were aching and cracking, we decided to give it a go. We will never ever turn back. We encourage all of you to go out and buy some trekking poles. Eric even uses them walking on concrete to the grocery store these days.<br /><br /><br />Natural beauty: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IkPR_U_A4PcJD_cIXkuuArFdRjlD8P3_t2nONN-hjPmO46PYTvFf013tt7Ip4baRjncHUKZQqjrcrBW0bJsnLqdDMCbLJcVfjD7JjT6IP37OvlHNuA48a10HbHPtOEIWKlTu9bqUB00/s1600-h/IMG_3793.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159136461431925522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IkPR_U_A4PcJD_cIXkuuArFdRjlD8P3_t2nONN-hjPmO46PYTvFf013tt7Ip4baRjncHUKZQqjrcrBW0bJsnLqdDMCbLJcVfjD7JjT6IP37OvlHNuA48a10HbHPtOEIWKlTu9bqUB00/s320/IMG_3793.jpg" border="0" /></a>The sea of ice that was Glacier Grey. The stark moraine of John Garner Pass. The silent soaring of two Andean condors. The insane turquoise of Largo Pehoe (which inspired Eric to leap up and down after a particularly tiring day). <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvfXFysz_lF9WMTzvdFzxRkdql4ZuysBAvM7xk8ssmQ0YBse8oeeLl2SaJBX0SrfwX3m0qEIyT7XE9yuWNbzr62JiiQJidq_7KuhLMuMZFn5bNmpkNsUaC40egVlyApIZOrc3aWTfLqY/s1600-h/IMG_3679.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159137453569370978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvfXFysz_lF9WMTzvdFzxRkdql4ZuysBAvM7xk8ssmQ0YBse8oeeLl2SaJBX0SrfwX3m0qEIyT7XE9yuWNbzr62JiiQJidq_7KuhLMuMZFn5bNmpkNsUaC40egVlyApIZOrc3aWTfLqY/s320/IMG_3679.jpg" border="0" /></a>We were undeniably lucky with the weather (only had to put on raingear once!). Especially on the day we rose at dawn to watch day break over the park´s namesake towers. We now feel justified in buying all those postcards with the glowing red <em>torres</em>---it really looks like that!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVBxKllMbaMfd15jKGLXlxlHBxehZNe4daSiDOFeQGNUm42SHf5lruF9m4TXoluIbzw6hHKOL2Zw-QAx8jyzN8D6iiYftXd7SrCVDfGM46Pt6nV-DMQSZAhrGPHAOJjLRFCW1Sl7s8uk/s1600-h/IMG_3817.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159136457136958210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVBxKllMbaMfd15jKGLXlxlHBxehZNe4daSiDOFeQGNUm42SHf5lruF9m4TXoluIbzw6hHKOL2Zw-QAx8jyzN8D6iiYftXd7SrCVDfGM46Pt6nV-DMQSZAhrGPHAOJjLRFCW1Sl7s8uk/s320/IMG_3817.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />We came back to Puerto Natales with bulging calves, stinky socks, and a camera full of pics. Now, we´re off to sit on a ferry for four days, where we don´t have to walk any further than the poop deck. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhia0ps74TVuS_SttBAi4GpRn_4MxffrF7h8kis5vNusktzMJOJHpqbxjvUFQmXMuK8ETck50QWxFvxRSSZuJs4b26NnuCGr2q_rXWBzUwSskDPEETUFgQzC4CvSzQXXrxcjDBoWEORTeY/s1600-h/IMG_3641.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159138316857797538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhia0ps74TVuS_SttBAi4GpRn_4MxffrF7h8kis5vNusktzMJOJHpqbxjvUFQmXMuK8ETck50QWxFvxRSSZuJs4b26NnuCGr2q_rXWBzUwSskDPEETUFgQzC4CvSzQXXrxcjDBoWEORTeY/s320/IMG_3641.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdSWQ7eH_vzMFKOGBlBjHhZgnmrublQz2TlQxL1vSGlCe1VXd6hvfmmKgvyCHIk380YXAr4GLj5w__zIMVCdix2neMNglXYOADQ4q_5f_qOPZERKjoXGiw0x7vPhHpBFPOhSKG1qp6HM/s1600-h/IMG_3639.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159138321152764850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdSWQ7eH_vzMFKOGBlBjHhZgnmrublQz2TlQxL1vSGlCe1VXd6hvfmmKgvyCHIk380YXAr4GLj5w__zIMVCdix2neMNglXYOADQ4q_5f_qOPZERKjoXGiw0x7vPhHpBFPOhSKG1qp6HM/s320/IMG_3639.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzzN5xq_j5CbQ9losilrSQw51v0tfB5U0GJovi8qoLb6SvyMIJeMZ2VBXUqPXAlPfd07f0Yvuu4A3A0FOOh9_lFdTHKJKfwEZ6fnjierFD5GMNk-RDCVyScla0pdoxecJPL4NaZvZFxI/s1600-h/IMG_3692.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159137449274403666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzzN5xq_j5CbQ9losilrSQw51v0tfB5U0GJovi8qoLb6SvyMIJeMZ2VBXUqPXAlPfd07f0Yvuu4A3A0FOOh9_lFdTHKJKfwEZ6fnjierFD5GMNk-RDCVyScla0pdoxecJPL4NaZvZFxI/s320/IMG_3692.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjrgy_lD7Oy7nfvNdDNX0aSxv9buqsh4A1LQwj_uklz-aHTjsmk0GMaaukA-Gx97q31Xs6USKSzvMkti58Ogpxf5ms9JIRb5EZL0GFhmR5ACLUaDZLpTZUHPds1ggyw6YM5mSkKFiO4qI/s1600-h/IMG_3649.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159137462159305602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjrgy_lD7Oy7nfvNdDNX0aSxv9buqsh4A1LQwj_uklz-aHTjsmk0GMaaukA-Gx97q31Xs6USKSzvMkti58Ogpxf5ms9JIRb5EZL0GFhmR5ACLUaDZLpTZUHPds1ggyw6YM5mSkKFiO4qI/s320/IMG_3649.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSCPOLoEzGyoP36GZbMxucNWWa3QVppfgJVPCY1dSLLc6v6QG6ySO4xkyvAg4-B-bI4mvJXlre2jmCKwuipvWtHMjhFkd37lIeZLWhBfWvAkV336SEfULuKz2_1TwJYtpJH2h1UADjPs/s1600-h/IMG_3643.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159137462159305618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSCPOLoEzGyoP36GZbMxucNWWa3QVppfgJVPCY1dSLLc6v6QG6ySO4xkyvAg4-B-bI4mvJXlre2jmCKwuipvWtHMjhFkd37lIeZLWhBfWvAkV336SEfULuKz2_1TwJYtpJH2h1UADjPs/s320/IMG_3643.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTMTFfICVDP_k353QgG-ZavsP1NnX7h0hRFsn8kGeBQ3Kgr6GJ1i2-LB4fItjcCWixcy_gZ8zfv5zd3P5xz8xwVRAKp_1DnUwcIGqUbApuTtqkHaOzSGNfQpot957DwPZbF5XAFmE6vA/s1600-h/IMG_3760.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159136470021860130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTMTFfICVDP_k353QgG-ZavsP1NnX7h0hRFsn8kGeBQ3Kgr6GJ1i2-LB4fItjcCWixcy_gZ8zfv5zd3P5xz8xwVRAKp_1DnUwcIGqUbApuTtqkHaOzSGNfQpot957DwPZbF5XAFmE6vA/s320/IMG_3760.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDRD7gWAT54_GbVbuqgheae2uzcLY9nf6ZUFUVnm2v4rftUR86w7O4690xqJTeoG4xPGJUncKO4BxiHRFcBSzaMZhWXahFYguf52yYR9r-jhOxHkL27R3s6fY6ds89W3xHP-N_mYzr8I/s1600-h/IMG_3741.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159136478611794738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDRD7gWAT54_GbVbuqgheae2uzcLY9nf6ZUFUVnm2v4rftUR86w7O4690xqJTeoG4xPGJUncKO4BxiHRFcBSzaMZhWXahFYguf52yYR9r-jhOxHkL27R3s6fY6ds89W3xHP-N_mYzr8I/s320/IMG_3741.jpg" border="0" /></a>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-88042883123430915092008-01-14T11:50:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:13:38.448-07:00Argentina: Los Glaciares National Park<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBrYiIgBlLqCmJX0yRvwqEsQgdg0mQcHBPfpAQqzxn-NcSo1wwkz7KYcFzc3CnUysdHRtcZ5Zoq-4e1PTrExVQ4D-8ItA1C1v5lUYYc4iV7kbOhPtTjdawoF-dhEy46zxEQwhqcucsBI/s1600-h/IMG_3417.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159153649891044562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBrYiIgBlLqCmJX0yRvwqEsQgdg0mQcHBPfpAQqzxn-NcSo1wwkz7KYcFzc3CnUysdHRtcZ5Zoq-4e1PTrExVQ4D-8ItA1C1v5lUYYc4iV7kbOhPtTjdawoF-dhEy46zxEQwhqcucsBI/s400/IMG_3417.jpg" border="0" /></a>Leaving Tierra del Fuego we set our sights on glaciers of every size, type, and form. First stop, after a series of endless, but amazingly well-synched, buses was El Chalten. A quirky mountain town slapped together at the foot of the northern portion of <em>Los Glaciares Parque Nacional</em>, El Chalten charmed us with its dirt roads and ambitious sidewalks. It´s obvious that change is coming quickly to this outdoorsy Mecca under the shadow of Fitz Roy Mountain. We´re just glad we got there before it got too slick, but after a welcoming brewpub had set up shop. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmcKhyphenhyphenZpJL2Vjht7Z-wPrMRPywhZCcBOHoMV3AV2wgaVO7xEmaGdUxwloKHl2cgIewGFQMFkKLx8drNu02welO6otJH89dLbLvrMKy8Wh_cqHoNtoAnC1yvDZL8JGTHzlH9DfeQ1IXOGY/s1600-h/IMG_3399.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159153658480979170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmcKhyphenhyphenZpJL2Vjht7Z-wPrMRPywhZCcBOHoMV3AV2wgaVO7xEmaGdUxwloKHl2cgIewGFQMFkKLx8drNu02welO6otJH89dLbLvrMKy8Wh_cqHoNtoAnC1yvDZL8JGTHzlH9DfeQ1IXOGY/s400/IMG_3399.jpg" border="0" /></a>It boasts rugged beauty that inspires local bus drivers to stop for sunset pictures when the weather is clear. We spent two days hoofing it past milky glacial rivers to gaze in awe at the beauty of Fitz Roy mountain and its glacier. Truly spectacular. We stayed in a tin-roof hostel of plyboard and loose screws that howled with the wind, but it was blessedly warm, which could not be said of the night air. After each day´s hike, we had no choice but to hole up in our room with wine and cheese to stay warm. No choice. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9b2Q3aGlSGd0gxOxm6Kc93ohusWkS81GCk1ZExSElgvr2jfDhYvS9qCeC5XilNOV4w-sn8pziJCIyLQu48HA0QIOLGQeJ1gU14JeP8EcCL5mMHeEa4wErlGMCdO0zn8EpLg-ElqcQJY/s1600-h/IMG_3454.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159152601919024306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9b2Q3aGlSGd0gxOxm6Kc93ohusWkS81GCk1ZExSElgvr2jfDhYvS9qCeC5XilNOV4w-sn8pziJCIyLQu48HA0QIOLGQeJ1gU14JeP8EcCL5mMHeEa4wErlGMCdO0zn8EpLg-ElqcQJY/s400/IMG_3454.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQpdEzWWS0xp2FuJnAUPOSxdx65uCpN9oTW9hdZ2LbskzPs0GJHzteT7OYWbSt9eQYVxaIKhzTCo1V29SflBreh7E0QT44h62u2o6YnLOR97mrpjMercFmHUrgwIllwHnopdNm7O6xqs/s1600-h/IMG_3511.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159152593329089682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQpdEzWWS0xp2FuJnAUPOSxdx65uCpN9oTW9hdZ2LbskzPs0GJHzteT7OYWbSt9eQYVxaIKhzTCo1V29SflBreh7E0QT44h62u2o6YnLOR97mrpjMercFmHUrgwIllwHnopdNm7O6xqs/s400/IMG_3511.jpg" border="0" /></a>We next made a break for El Calafate, and the Perito Moreno Glacier in the southern end of the park. With a rainbow arching over it, it was just as gorgeous as all the postcards promised. The best part is listening to it creak and groan and shudder, while everyone eagerly waits to see a big iceberg calve off. It´s like watching history in the making. We signed up for the ridiculously titled glacier-trek called BIG ICE, which can only be said in a deep voice while flexing your muscles. But it truly was incredible. Strapping on crampons, we ventured off into the middle of the Perito Moreno glacier to explore the otherwordly lakes, rivers and sinkholes. Everything is this surreal mouthwash blue color that makes it look like we doctored our photos. Best yet, at the trip end they poured whiskey over glacier ice to toast the fact that we didn´t lose anyone in a crevasse. Cheers!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxfT_417ehWqDP_XoLOwbM58WABi14urYVQ0SL6aNSlFmClb0HagiLSvXvmtaaKMaKMW0SycKHrwbZm-sjifpda5OB8BRX-Ehbjla4CvnoQ2MTjMSPQWMIFzP5TceSHkqgfmw4eFPYS4/s1600-h/IMG_3435.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159152601919024322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxfT_417ehWqDP_XoLOwbM58WABi14urYVQ0SL6aNSlFmClb0HagiLSvXvmtaaKMaKMW0SycKHrwbZm-sjifpda5OB8BRX-Ehbjla4CvnoQ2MTjMSPQWMIFzP5TceSHkqgfmw4eFPYS4/s400/IMG_3435.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Q4yismwHTYm3IIhu5JOF2NfbVlpr5Jzu8TNtFRQS2HU3sIi3-q093M9UrVC1klg7JtJ9gko6AJtRgjo7QWlgCTFa3VkiCll9G2LOwOsmapVemoMJyyHwASB3CPdOYTy8s7nJw5Lji9Y/s1600-h/IMG_3486.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159152597624056994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Q4yismwHTYm3IIhu5JOF2NfbVlpr5Jzu8TNtFRQS2HU3sIi3-q093M9UrVC1klg7JtJ9gko6AJtRgjo7QWlgCTFa3VkiCll9G2LOwOsmapVemoMJyyHwASB3CPdOYTy8s7nJw5Lji9Y/s400/IMG_3486.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyUOR53d9ZuzYBrdLRLKH2EKpc42hN47l6ApJjbHf-16CnPpkDaaAEw1OTMSp69ng6XBWGRDjy-cBWKzVr4pxkYkr6lPj3Umu0hlUr9zwT-eQRRLcHmiE-wjs058f80CrVDX5JcratSgY/s1600-h/IMG_3572.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159150596169296962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyUOR53d9ZuzYBrdLRLKH2EKpc42hN47l6ApJjbHf-16CnPpkDaaAEw1OTMSp69ng6XBWGRDjy-cBWKzVr4pxkYkr6lPj3Umu0hlUr9zwT-eQRRLcHmiE-wjs058f80CrVDX5JcratSgY/s400/IMG_3572.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1Vwyz6_Wi046krk3YAXeG_zzw2x20OWvHOW8_0NIf2CyEuEhQJOdodfPkqTAWWf_zt0WOPS_OXMgj4wgn8O0Ob33A1SDfxNAfTNJky2_YIDzyuXVfd_NAoLRUQ5r7OtqkuAPwjLdc78/s1600-h/IMG_3570.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159150596169296978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1Vwyz6_Wi046krk3YAXeG_zzw2x20OWvHOW8_0NIf2CyEuEhQJOdodfPkqTAWWf_zt0WOPS_OXMgj4wgn8O0Ob33A1SDfxNAfTNJky2_YIDzyuXVfd_NAoLRUQ5r7OtqkuAPwjLdc78/s400/IMG_3570.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUrgOUOE3hnGDluQRa85nMI3Qe8GEB3NEwbFOUwViU-rWtkFrjJh1io8ozh1YEvYiXS_z4Ie8zTFNwz5eeq1o11q7FCiOi5vUgiWbOwTc-VP4dRo2fvhvrPeGcRYGGVV9XsZ6DXykKhQ/s1600-h/IMG_3557.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159150600464264290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUrgOUOE3hnGDluQRa85nMI3Qe8GEB3NEwbFOUwViU-rWtkFrjJh1io8ozh1YEvYiXS_z4Ie8zTFNwz5eeq1o11q7FCiOi5vUgiWbOwTc-VP4dRo2fvhvrPeGcRYGGVV9XsZ6DXykKhQ/s400/IMG_3557.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgses84L-YtS-XG3Abh2ckReqd43xeOxB0uIcRVlrvpgYU2n5KEry5hV-PVCf9Q10pPx51GjR0P9rQmTnzNc8Ao-R_WJP5XJljXW-94sIXsUpbWIyKcZvv_uBVV3NXtTHn5fTbJUk9OjTw/s1600-h/IMG_3541.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159150604759231602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgses84L-YtS-XG3Abh2ckReqd43xeOxB0uIcRVlrvpgYU2n5KEry5hV-PVCf9Q10pPx51GjR0P9rQmTnzNc8Ao-R_WJP5XJljXW-94sIXsUpbWIyKcZvv_uBVV3NXtTHn5fTbJUk9OjTw/s400/IMG_3541.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKr8_eBOl-Rz_Buoe0QMbAqaeIG4SWsDgd0ap53A4wo_OgDdNtDr5QbZIJzgAxaN5isTAtoh3iidYu9o7Mrcyuhr5bKkgtQ0i21Lt6YKTPInH9FfFnOIbRKbkXcweOUyd0tizsYjbVUM/s1600-h/IMG_3524.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159152589034122370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKr8_eBOl-Rz_Buoe0QMbAqaeIG4SWsDgd0ap53A4wo_OgDdNtDr5QbZIJzgAxaN5isTAtoh3iidYu9o7Mrcyuhr5bKkgtQ0i21Lt6YKTPInH9FfFnOIbRKbkXcweOUyd0tizsYjbVUM/s400/IMG_3524.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPG2ZvPFNLwTLwDYHgcYsOrdev1twscoZi3f6lsc3KV17J7eoZ1avulNKdAJCAkpRVovf2-HS5CSmesa2jdHz6hcifYyvj5nowZsbbPBfQQhb2-cSA3o3heHDcCHedLuBKrIH1S8DtnJw/s1600-h/IMG_3578.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159150587579362354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPG2ZvPFNLwTLwDYHgcYsOrdev1twscoZi3f6lsc3KV17J7eoZ1avulNKdAJCAkpRVovf2-HS5CSmesa2jdHz6hcifYyvj5nowZsbbPBfQQhb2-cSA3o3heHDcCHedLuBKrIH1S8DtnJw/s400/IMG_3578.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>Kathleen and Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13969679373598964261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2034696988227924458.post-10390618029387753812008-01-08T18:45:00.000-08:002008-08-12T17:13:24.731-07:00Haircuts Around The World: The End Of The World<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZgyIlwpgCKtcrTHTEuctxq8_x2C3AHz-uVJzJUaFRlt_KggUIQN-Ka-ieKQjIacx9z7dooLAUkfv5ApDGZHNP1qyEC_MMzS2FX7x_of15lxh_nhpLeBJrwXSrTxqgjhV7KMHc0uVv-g/s1600-h/IMG_3383-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153226562000284962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZgyIlwpgCKtcrTHTEuctxq8_x2C3AHz-uVJzJUaFRlt_KggUIQN-Ka-ieKQjIacx9z7dooLAUkfv5ApDGZHNP1qyEC_MMzS2FX7x_of15lxh_nhpLeBJrwXSrTxqgjhV7KMHc0uVv-g/s320/IMG_3383-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">What better place for my next haircut than the southernmost city in the world. After walking the streets for a while, I settled on Osvaldo Coiffeur Peluqueria Unisex, a promising contrast to the men only places I had been to so far. (Notice the big ships in the background of the first picture...they are heading to Antarctica). This place had a pink wall on one side and a light green one on the other. There were young women getting their hair done and older gentlemen triming up what they had left on top. This place even had two helpers sweeping up the floor and preparing mate for the barbers (see the picture below).<br /><br />My cape had a definite Christmas pattern (red, white and green), and the barber looked perfect for the job. His shirt was only buttoned half way up and he was drinking mate throughout - handed to him by the beautiful blonde helper lady. ¨We¨ never had those before. He was efficient with the clippers, forgoing the #1 clipper for a cleaner and shorter cut on top (I am still working on my Spanish). No straight edge razer blades were used (losing points), but he did clean up the beard nicely (Kathleen likes it). I went for a different atmosphere with this one and it lived up to expectations. But the beard never received the special attention it deserved and no head massage (like in Uganda). </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Overall, I would give it a 6 out of 10.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqhat1y7gikfKn2sQKtHpM_LDkoK5ZIEzUj31Pqn7oj06wTUdkff88WoLALTaCjK5e-XVDxvchiVDE4Gg6RRD-6j2cBR0ZnDe85Ya-Vrv_9wnTJbLoPl27rhMye8A2ASNqtdAURANhcQ/s1600-h/IMG_3384.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153226566295252274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqhat1y7gikfKn2sQKtHpM_LDkoK5ZIEzUj31Pqn7oj06wTUdkff88WoLALTaCjK5e-XVDxvchiVDE4Gg6RRD-6j2cBR0ZnDe85Ya-Vrv_9wnTJbLoPl27rhMye8A2ASNqtdAURANhcQ/s320/IMG_3384.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLyGqt63yroyL2s-nBxoSZ1YzVRaB4k_xmwyi7cwd-IO-yt14SlL7_T_fnDXLKvpqCwnFWLNr9sFyrA02EmuqIrTO2L1sp9cn6C2b2Nagzd6qAoLNuDU8gb-0faY9GZlMiuMUDqRurLY/s1600-h/IMG_3385.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153226570590219586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLyGqt63yroyL2s-nBxoSZ1YzVRaB4k_xmwyi7cwd-IO-yt14SlL7_T_fnDXLKvpqCwnFWLNr9sFyrA02EmuqIrTO2L1sp9cn6C2b2Nagzd6qAoLNuDU8gb-0faY9GZlMiuMUDqRurLY/s320/IMG_3385.jpg" border="0" /></a>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295393259692373873noreply@blogger.com0