Diarrhea stories...

If your in anyway squimish or prudish, stop reading now...

So since my arrival to Loki, La Paz, the topic of Diarrhea has spread almost as fast as the affliction itself. On my vomiting day, in which I remained largely in bed, me and Emmett (irish guy in my dorm) chatted with the neighbouring dorm in which 3 people were suffering from the dreaded D. One poor Aussie girl told us how the previous day she´d had an accident in her pants downtown.

This brought about me thinking the top 3 Diarrhea stories I´ve heard so far. Most happened to ´friends of friends´and in India, but for your enjoyment here you are...

1. Heard from Bethany...

3 girls travelling on a bus, think it was in Asia, and suddenly one HAS to go. Completely desperate, when the bus stops, she tells her friends she´ll meet them at the hotel later and runs off. Its a gas station, with unbelieveably, no bathroom. She sees a high wall surrounding it, and decides to hop it. Unfortunately, the other side of the wall is a steep drop and she starts rolling down this cliff. She manages to stop herself by grabbing a tree. Despite the fall, she still has only one thing on her mind, so, clinging to the tree, she drops her pants and goes. After, she realises her prediciment... she can either continue falling, or try to climb back up. So, she claws her way back up, to realise upon reaching the wall, theres a collection of asian onlookers who´ve witness the whole ordeal...

2. Heard from Evil Jess...

Guy on a bus in India. Its so packed that theres not space to stand in the isle, so he´s lying in the overhead luggage compartment. Suddenly,he too, HAS to go. He looks around, surveying his options. He´s deciding between going in his backpack or going in his pants, when my some twist of fate, the bus stops. He runs off, runs down the road, and runs into the first restaurant he sees. He frantically asks for the bathroom, the owners point him in the direction. he gets in there, its pretty much a hole in the ground, drops his pants and starts going... He looks down and realises, in this hole, theres pigs, which are frantically eating what comes out of him... Literally, a pig in shit.

3. Heard from dull English guy...

Guy, again, on a bus in India. He HAS to go. Goes up to the driver several times, but he refuses to stop. Eventually, he resorts to screaming at the driver to stop, knowing that if he doesn´t he´ll be going in his pants. So the driver stops, and he runs through bushes, stops, and starts going. When he ´comes to´he realises where he is... In a wealthy Indian housing estate, and he´s going in a guys front garden. The guy is standing in the garden, hosing his plants. English guy starts frantically trying to wash away his mess with a bottle of water, looks up, and sees his bus drive past, everyone in it laughing at taking his photo.

Well, hope they brighten up your day, see it could be worse!!

La Pazzzzz!!

So we arrive to La Paz 2hours late, but thats Bolivian buses for you. It had wisely been predetermined that we would be checking into the famous Loki hostel with a reputation for being a party hostel...

La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, holds the title for being the highest capital city in the world, 3800m asl. As per usual, with a change in altitude, I feel a little like death. However, it is Bethany´s last night with us, so it was planned to be a big one. I take an afternoon siesta after a quick exploration of the hilly, bustling city.

We start the night off in the Loki bar, which to be honest, is the most european bar I´ve been in so far. Nothing too typically South American about this hostel, the chain of 4 was largely set up by a group of Irish. It is a bit of cheat, everything is written in English, and most of the guests are english speaking, however, is a refreshing break.

Having heard good things about the nightlife in La Paz we were geared up for some big nights out. However, the ´nightclubs´weren´t exactly what we´d expected. Traffic and Mongol, had both been recommended. We ended up going to both. Traffic was more of a salsa bar, which can be great, but this one was not. Mongol was full of tourists and had a strange playlist in which The Fugees and Coolio featured. The most interesting part of the night was the slightly secret nightclub ´Blue´. It functions as sort of an afterparty, opening at 4am. You arrive, to what seems like a normal door to a flat, and you have to knock. A bouncer answers and ushers everyone into what seems to be a long, dark, outdoor corridor. You stumble up it until you reach another, soundproofed, door. Inside is sort of shed of a nightclub, akin to something you might find in Ballmullet, Co. Mayo. Except theres no air, and very smokey... oh and theres a cocaine room upstairs. I must point out, I only know this from naively stumbling up there...

Despite being a ´secret´nightclub, it seemed to be exclusively filled with tourists. we stayed until around 6am, at which point Bethany had to return to the hostel to catch a bus. Sounds fun eh? On the way out, the bouncer told us we had to wait 5 mins until we were let out, because the police were outside...

I felt like death, alchohol and altitude continue to plague my happiness. I sadly said my farewell to my travel buddy since Mendoza and went to bed.

The next day was a fun filled vomit session on my part... shudder...

Sucre!

We pulled into Sucre around 6am, and my initial reaction was... oh dear. However, being on a smelly bus from hell does warp your preception, as does seeing a deserted city at 6am on a Sunday from a bus station. I´m happy to say my first impressions were wrong.

We were all tired and a little cranky and found a hostel quick. It was basic, and our room smelled like moldy chicken soup, but we changed to join the others at a nicer hostel the next day. At that point I was worried I´d only remember Bolivia as being a series of bad smells...

Sucre turned out to be a lovely place to relax for a few days and I really did very little here other than aimlessly wonder and chill. Me and Bethany did however spend alot of time in the Market, which, maybe sadly, was one of my favourite things about Sucre! I´ve never seen so much fresh fruit and Veg in my life. Somebody warned me in Beunos Aires, that if I thought the lack of fruit and veg there was bad (they only eat steak remember) then I´d really struggle later in my trip, that it only got worse. I´m happy to say that was a lie.

Another wonderful thing about Poor Bolivia, is that everything is very cheap. Dinner out in a nice resturaunt costs about 6euro, often including drink. Taxi´s are about 50cent, and haggling is done everywhere here. Sometimes though, you really have to stop yourself from arguing when you realise that 10bolivianos is really only a euro...

Like I said, I got a little lazy in Sucre, and after wonderful Timo´s departure, five girls set off to get pedicures and massages... Backpacker style. One thing I´ve noticed about Bolivians, is that customer service isn´t really a high priority... When we walked into the Salon, faces dropped, they had to work. People move slowly, and in resturaunts here it can be particularly frustrating, food is brought one plate at a time, long pauses between each. Its normal to wait ten minutes for the bill. Well, it was the same in the Salon, only a little more scary, because of their lack of enthusiasm can lead to careless filing or clipping... ouch. Still, I can´t complain, I got lucky and my Pedicurist was lovely, although the other girls looked a little scared. The massage was also interesting, a dirty robe was given to me, and it was a little male Bolivian Massus, but I´m glad to say he had the same intimidated attitude towards Western women as many men in Sucre, I´m sure if I´d been in Chile it may have been a different experience!

After 3 days in Sucre and one interesting night of Salsa, we all headed to the Capital on Bolivia, the highest Capital city in the world, La Paz. We´d managed to find a decent bus company. It was no Super Carma, and they did torture us with the amazing Steven Segal in ´Pistol Whipped´, but we made it!

Trip to Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia!

The three day trip to Uyuni started with a rather anxious border crossing from Chile into Bolivia. The night before I had a nightmare about being caught at the border for my apple fine... a little worried I guess.
Really was unnecessary, the border into Bolivia is possibly the most relaxed border/country crossing I´ve ever been to. Once I´d been stamped out of Chile I knew I was homefree, there was then the ten minute drive to the Bolivian border, which was basically a small shack shed, with a couple of guards and a framed photo of the president. No bags were checked, I could have been packing a kilo of coke, but Bolivia really wouldn´t care.

We had breakfast at the border and then formed out groups for our 4X4 drives. Groups of six, we had an amazing group, Team Toyosa (thats right, not Toyota), named after our 4X4. It consisted of me, Bethany, Australian Jess from our hostel, Dutch Fenna from our hostel, the camp french John-Noel, and the funniest German Mathmatician ever, Timo.
After breakfast we dramatically climbed altitude the rest of the day. Its disturbing looking at food packages swell and burst from the change in pressure, you worry about whats going on in your body.

First day we saw some Lagoons, then a dip in the lovely lovely hotsprings, and finally the Glaciers. Tragically, the glaciers were the highest point, 4900 m above sea level. We´d started off chirpy, happy, bonding, but by the time we reached that point, some of us were lacking in spirit, altitude sickness kicks again. I felt reasonably lucky, I felt like death at the glaciers and couldn´t get out of the car, but Bethany got it far worse. For me, its kind of like having asthma (its weird to breath in and not be satisfied due to less oxygen in the air), coupled with the worst hangover of your life. You feel dizzy, want to vomit, weak, terrible headache. In Bolivia and Peru Cocoa leaves (where cocaine comes from) are legal, and are believed to be a cure for altittude sickness. They taste pretty nasty, but theres always cocoa tea, yum.
After the Glaciers we got to our hostel for the first night. Basic, but we´d been warned. I drank cocoa tea, ate a truck full of Nuerofen plus and sat in bed for a bit with sunglasses until the headache went, then was fairly ok. Bethany crawled from the jeep to the bed and stayed there, from 4 in the afternoon till the next morning. Only a few got it really bad in our group, and she was one. The next day she said she hadn´t felt that bad since she had Meningitis.

The next day was alot better, we all felt better and were going back down, happy days. This day was filled with more Lagoons, alot of Flamigos, a Volcano, highest desert in the world, and mountains. Nice. That night we stayed in a hostel made entirely out of salt, salt floors, salt bricks. Team Toyosa bunked up again and Timo told us about his exel spread sheets for matching what ties go with what shirts. Priceless.

Last day was probably my favourite, we visited what used to be a salt Hotel in the middle of the salt planes. It was shut down because the weren´t disposing of the human waste in an environmentally friendly way. Then were the giant Cacti, and finally the salt flats. You really need the photos to understand why they´re so amazing, but Bolivia isn´t renowned for its speedy internet so you´ll have to wait.

We arrived to Uyuni at three, not the nicest town so we decided to get out of there that night and booked a night bus for 7. It was the first real time I felt like I was in Bolivia. Bolivia seemed alot poorer than Chile and Argentina, and it is. Theres still a large indiginous population here, which was a slight culture shock, still dressed traditionally they fasinated me on first impressions. Poor Bolivia, was all I could think, and I really feel sorry for them as a nation. When they declared themselves independent they lost land to Brazil, Peru and what they hate the most, their costline, to Chile. They do not like Chilians.

Poor Bolivia really impacted me on the worst bus trip so far. To get to my next destination, Sucre, we had to get two buses. The first to Potosi. Bye bye super carma, hello bus from hell. I was travelling with Bethany, Jess, Fenna, Timo, and three girls from another Jeep. Timo and the three girls were in the five seats at the back, which seemed reasonably comfortable, until they were joined by a mother with three kids. Thats a total of 8 people in 5 seats, and the father in the back. The bus was also crammed with people in the isles. All it needed was a few Chickens...
The bus was cold and pretty shit, but for some reason it was damn funny. The road was dirt and bumpy, we were traveling at crazy speeds around mountains by cliff edges. The bus was two hours late, in the middle of the night we woke to the tire being changed. Bolivian buses, I´ve been told, frequently break down.

We just about made our next bus, which was slightly better. Nobody in the isles, but there was still some funky smells. In total we were travelling for about 15 hours I think, with no bathroom. Pain like nothing on this earth...

Finally however we´d arrived to the white city of Sucre!!

The Desert and San Pedro...

The bus trip to San Pedro was possibly the worst of my life, but tragically was all self inflicited due to the night before. Theres nothing like 3 hours sleep, a banging (vomity) hangover, 22 hours on a bus and an endless supply of dubbed films, crap sandwiches (lunch and dinner) and heavy snorers.

Eventually however the hangover wore off as we climbed to 2800 m above sea level to the deserty town of San Pedro. The town soley functions as an aid to visit the many natural attractions around the town, Lagoons, Glaciers, Valleys, Salt lakes, Flamigos, etc. It is totally isolated, a truck comes to the town once a week with fresh fruit and veg, theres no real supermarkets or shops, but its damn cute. Me and Bethany stayed in a hostel on the outskirts of the town, which was basically in the dessert, and was pretty much an elderly couples home, with extra rooms which functioned as dorms. My initial reaction on walking into the cemented shack was ´what the fuck...´being greeted by the handless grandfather, but by the end of it I just wanted to pick the pair up and take them home. That, plus the place was filled with cats, always a plus in my book.

After spending hours on the bus we were eager to do something the first day, so that afternoon visited the Valley de Luna (Valley of the Moon). We climbed through caves, over hills and eventually to the valley where we climbed up a huge sand dune to watch the sunset. It was beautiful, and the perfect moment for my cameras battery to choose to die... bummer.

So, the thing about going to a high alltitude place after being in low alltitude, for most of your life, is that some people suffer from alltitude sickness. They say to take it easy the first day, not do too much, eat little and don´t drink alcohol. I chose to ignore all of these, and we went for a 3 course meal (there was an offer, only 6000 pesos!) and a pisco sours. During dessert I start to feel a bit weird, then dizzy, and I know I´m going to faint. I tell Bethany I feel a bit weird and am going to the bathroom... I made it about five steps before fainting in front of the whole restaurant, banging my head on some poor couples table on the way down. I was fine of course, just embarassed. Bethany and the charismatic waiter came to my aid, I choose to sit where I was until I felt better. He told me it happens all the time, not to worry, then scolded me for drinking and eating steak my first day there. Five minutes later a girl wobbles past being aided by her two friends... At least I wasn´t alone, and to be honest, I got off light, later I found out alttitude sickness can get alot worse.

For the next two days I took it fairly easy,a bit of dizziness and one hallucination during a seista and I was fine. We arranged to do a three day 4X4 tour into Bolivia to see endless lagoons, flamigos and saltflats so there was no major need to do too many tours around San Pedro, just chilled in a small town where after 3 days, locals knew me by name and called me over to chat when walking down the main street. Just like home!

Valpariso and Santiago

I´d heard lovely things about Valpariso, a city near the coast of Chile so decided I would spend more time there instead of Santiago, which, lets face it, is just another capital city. I wasn´t disappointed either though, the place is covered in fantastic graffiti, theres people painting murals everywhere, or creating little mosasaics on lamp post. The other thing I loved/hated was all the stairs! The city is built on a hill, in a way it has layers or floors, you climb stairs to get to the next layer. The lead for fantastic views but is a bit of a bitch to climb in the heat or, after drinking chocolate milk...

One day Bethany and I (my traveling buddy since Mendoza) decided to go to the beach in Vina del Mar, ten minutes away. It had been a scorching morning but after a half an hour of us being there this fog came over the whole city. Stubborn for some beach time, we lasted about 40 minutes, slightly shivering. Eventually we gave up, but even so I some how managed to get completely sun burned. I curse my irish skin! Only I could get sunburned in fog...

We hit Santiago for the weekend and some night life. I have to say, the guys in Chile are farrr more annoying than Argentina, literally can´t walk five steps without getting whistled or commented on. The best so was when me and Bethany recieved a slow clap which broke into a round of applause as we passed a truck of guys unloading softdrinks. Priceless. In some ways I think it might be a blessing, I don´t know how anyone could mug a girl here with such attention.
Santiago was alot of fun to go out in but not much else. There was the Chile vs Colombia world cup qualifier while we were there, and these people are mad about football. The city was crazy that night. I also finally gave into some Salsa dancing in the discos here. More fun than I thought but every song still sounds like ´Gasolina´to my untrained ears.

The down side to all the partying was a hangover like no other on Sunday, the day we were taking a 22 hour bus ride to North Chile, San Pedro. I slept for most of those 22 hours and vowed never ever to drink heavily before a bus again...

Apple Fines...

So, after Mendoza I headed on a day bus over the Andes Mountains, to the far far away land of Chile. We went from heat to snow in a few hours, the drive was amazing and I was glad for once to be on a day bus and not a night bus...

This however is not a story with a happy ending. We get to the border crossing, think 1940´s Russia. I´d heard stories of hours of delays because the people at the border move at about 2miles an hour despite bus lined outside. We were lucky, only one bus in front of us. So we pile out the bus, que to get stamped by Argentina, then que to get stamped by Chile. Then go into a big cold room, line in front of long tables, for our hand luggage. A cup is handed around by an inspector for us to put money in... hmm... professional. All our under carriage luggage is taken off the bus and scanned, then put back on the bus. Then one by one we get our hand luggage scanned... And mine beeps.

They had very little english and ask to look in my bag. I open it, and before they even look, they ask if I have any fruit. I said yes, an apple, which I´d intended on eating and had forgotten was there. Suddenly things get very serious... ´do you have any other fruit, seeds, any fruit its very important´. I don´t and don´t understand what all the fuss is about. People get called over, they confiscate the fruit, everyone else is back on the bus.

Tip for anyone at border crossings with impending trouble... Don´t make jokes, even if your only there over an apple. They take their jobs very seriously and didn´t find it funny when I suggest I just eat the apple...

Instead I was questioned, for an hour... over an apple.
They found someone with slightly better english to translate for another women. She told me in this case they must follow a procedure and I must come into a room with them. At this point I got worried, strip search crossed my mind. Instead they slowly fill out three forms, in which I tell them why I had the apple, why I didn´t declare the apple, why I was in Chile what I do for a living, etc. She explained to me that they have to protect the agriculture of Chile, that the apple would be burned... They filled out the forms, translated what was written, basically a story of why I had the apple, how much it weighed, etc. which I then signed. After an hour of questioning, with the bus waiting, it was getting a little funny, until they let me know I had a 200 US dollar fine. Not funny. They wanted me to pay then, but I didnt have the money, and was a bit suspicious, so instead she gave me an address in Santiago to pay. I stormed back to the bus.

So the question now is, do I pay the fine, or do I go mexican style and make a break for the border... theres a slight risk of being arrested but I´m going for the latter.

The next day at the hostel I explain the story to the hostel owner and ask his advice. He became my hero. I showed him all the copies of the forms they gave me, and he says he´ll ring them for me, and thinks its ridiculous. They tell him that usually people don´t get fined over something as small as an apple, and I have 10 working days to pay the fine. Also, there is no computer system to show that I have the fine when I recross the border, its all done in good faith. Plus I can appeal the fine. All good. So my new hero Juan, says he wants to write a letter to the head of the Agriculture department and appeal it for me, because he is not happy with it at all, saying its bad for tourism that they behave like this. I agree. He write me the letter and then translates it for me, telling me he´s added a few slight fabrications! So now I was harassed at the bordered, bullied into signing document I didn´t understand, That I threw away seeds and fruit before the border but thought that one piece of fruit would be ok. Legend. I´m still in Chile, crossing the border into poor Bolivia on Thursday. Wish me luck!

Backtrack to floggers...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTYEIBK5X1o&feature=fvw

Ok, I know the moment may have passed, but I still wanted to put this up... see old BA posts if you don´t know what its in relation to... Still cracks me up when I watch it, if ever you feel sad, just think, you could be a flogger...

Mendoza, wine, bikes and sunburn!!

So I arrived in Mendoza, Argentina Wednesday morning, after a 14 hour bus ride, Carma, where they played The Hangover, for the 5th time since leaving Ireland, only this time, I had a real hangover after a fun night in B.A. at La Bomba. I promised myself two alcohol free nights, despite being in the city on wine.

I´ve been really lucky, last sunday it was snowing here, but I arrived it was the start of several days of serious heat and sunshine. The hostels beautiful and peaceful, with a pool and hammocks. The only issue I had was ever day the people in my dorm changed, kind of annoying, the 'so where you traveling, where you been' conversations get a tad repedative every day!!

Day two I went Paragliding in the morning from the surrounding Mendoza Mountainings. It was amazing, I was lucky as I was the only one doing it that morning, so had my own privite fourwheel drive up the mountain with the chilled out instructor and driver. It was amazing, we had a beautiful clear day for running of the edge of a cliff. But its really not an adrenaline buzz, its more of a peaceful experience, you really are flying. Next I may skydive in Colombia if money and time allow!

In the afternoon it was time for bike rides and wineries! The wineries are in two regions, one of which tourists tend to do by bike as they are all close together and if the weathers nice, its a great way to travel through the vineard roads. I went with 3 girls from the hostel. Malbec is the wine produced here, and its what I´ve been drinking every 2nd day since landing in Argentina! If you could taste it, you´d understand why. Plus, its amazingly cheap, even for a good bottle. After the tour, I finally feel like I know a little something about wine, other than what colour it is! We rented our bikes of the famous Mr. Hugo, who upon our return greated us with hugs and we joined the other bikers for the endless supply of free wine he supplies! The back to the hostel for the best 8euro Asado (BBQ) of my life. Another endless supply of Steak and wine.

I have since visited the parks in Mendoza, which are lovely, although I´m at a loss at how so many people jog in the intense sun! These people are a healthy mystery to me still. I was told, it wasn´t even that hot. My poor Irish skin doesn´t know whats going on. Today I did some more wineries and managed to go a new shade of red, despite suncream. hmm... At least its not snow right?¿!

Oh, and sorry for the lack of photos, I think my bag may have been robbed on my bus trip, although its hard to tell as just my camera usb cables and charger is missing. But there is also a new hole into my secret locking compartment, and apparently, stranger things have been robbed. meh, at least they left my malaria tablets...right....

Next I´m crossing into Chile, to Valpariaso, which sounds like a city I may fall in love with!

Cao Chicos!