Peru

Puno was a bust

Puno, Peru is situated on the shores of Lake Titicaca, which sits 3,811 m (12,500 ft) above sea level, making it the highest commercially navigable lake in the world. It also happens to be the largest lake by volume of water in South America. Lake Titicaca is most noted for its unique islands. Uros is comprised of a group of about 44 artificial islands made of floating reeds. Amantani and Taquile are a couple of other islands renowned for their culture and history.  There are several islands on the Bolivia side of Lake Titicaca, Isla del Sol and Isla de la Luna which are equally interesting.

We travelled to Puno on Monday with plans to visit one or more of these islands.  We had read warnings on line and in our travel book that these islands were becoming more and more touristy to the point that the culture and traditions of the indigenous populations were being eroded.  We usually avoid the tourist trap venues as much as possible, preferring to do things on our own and a little off the beaten track.  We made an exception here because it was practically on our way to Bolivia, and we still felt there was merit to visiting these islands.

Our first impression of Puno was that it was a small city like any other in Peru; nothing really distinguished it as special or different.  Our hostel provided basic, comfortable accommodations, but again, nothing out of the ordinary.  We did notice that there were many indigenous women dressed in their traditional costume – long, pleated skirts, shawls and a bowler hat perched on the top of their heads – I wondered how these stayed on, especially on a windy day!  All the indigenous women had long thick braids down their back, and many had lovely pom pom accessories attached to the bottom of their braids.

After hearing the experience of a couple of young lads at our hostel who just happened to be from Barrhaven in Ottawa (just a few kilometres away from our old house), we decided we would visit the island of Uros on our own and then decide after that what we wanted to do. Rather than take a packaged tour, we opted for the public ferry that took us to the islands for 15 soles each. We were the only foreigners on the boat – just the way we like it!

As we approached the islands, it looked like a scene from a theme park – so contrived, so fake, so touristy.  Once we landed on a very tiny island, we were forced to listen to a man tell us about the island and the families that supposedly lived on them (which they did at one time, but it didn’t look like anybody was living on the island we visited because the little huts were being used solely for the storage of the junk they were trying to pawn off on tourists).  While he was giving his spiel, a few women started to organize their craft tables so that when he was done, they were open for business.

Nobody in our group seemed too interested in the overpriced trinkets.  It was interesting to see how the islands were constructed and how it felt to walk on the reeds.  But it was such a tourist trap, we were completely turned off from the entire experience.   

We did pay an extra 5 soles to take a reed boat to another floating island which gave us a good chance to take some pictures.  And we had a delicious lunch on one of the islands – fried trout (from the lake) with rice and potatoes. Throughout the entire experience we felt as if we were being held hostage until we bought something.  It left a bad taste in our mouth.

Based on this experience, we decided we didn’t need to repeat it on any of the other islands.  And so it was an easy decision to leave Puno the next day.  We considered stopping for a couple of days in Copacabana which sits on Lake Titicaca in Bolivia, but after reading similar reports of it being a tourist trap, we opted to head straight for La Paz instead.

Self-guided hike into the Colca Canyon = panic attack

Day 1 – Arequipa to the Oasis

Last Tuesday morning, we took the 8:30 am bus from Arequipa to Cabanaconde where we would begin our hike into the Colca Canyon.  The 5.5 hr trip went quickly as we sat back and enjoyed the scenery.  We passed mountains and valleys dotted with herds of cattle, sheep, alpacas,and llamas.  The valley, and parts of the canyon are habitable, and Inca and pre-Inca terraces are still cultivated along the less precipitous canyon walls.

We arrived without incident in the dusty, sleepy little town of Cabanaconde (3,287 m) and promptly headed to the hostel we were planning to stay in at the end of the hike.  We talked to the owner and a few other hikers to get more information about our hike and to confirm there was sufficient time to make it to the bottom of the canyon that afternoon – supposedly a 2 hr hike – where we would overnight in what was called the “Oasis” (2160m).

We began our descent at about 3:00 pm with very simple directions:  take the road across from the church, follow it out of town and stay on it to the bottom. Before we even left town, a friendly German Shepherd dog joined us and accompanied us all the way down to the bottom. As we left town, we enjoyed the beautiful scenery of fertile, cultivated terraces.  The rocky path followed a gentle slope that lulled us into thinking this was going to be a piece of cake.

And then we came to the edge of the canyon and got our first real look at the trek ahead. It was a long way down, and it was very, very steep.  In fact, we couldn’t even see the bottom.  To make matters worse, the trail was comprised mainly of loose rocks the size of our fist, mixed with gravel and larger rocks we had to navigate around.  This wasn’t going to be easy.

As Chris took his time taking pictures along the way, I hiked on ahead. After a couple of hours, it was clear we still had a long way to go and I was getting concerned about losing daylight.  Finally we could see a tiny patch of green called the Oasis – it was just a dot way down below.  As we inched our way closer going back and forth along the steep switchbacks, we could see the “resorts” and their swimming pools.  Oh, how we wanted to get to the bottom!

After more than three gruelling hours, we reached the Oasis with burning leg muscles and only a half hour of daylight to spare.  Once at the bottom, we picked the hostel we had been oogling through our binoculars for the last hour of our descent, the one with the pool that had a huge rock face protruding from one side.

We arranged for our room (10 soles each = $3.75 CAN each), took a quick shower in the very primitive bathroom and then dove into the pool.  It was so refreshing, but with the sun fading, the outside temperatue was also dropping fast.

After a quick swim, we washed our clothes and joined the other hikers for a communal dinner. There were three tour groups staying for the night and a young couple who were hiking independently like us. Dinner consisted of a potato based soup, followed by a huge plate of spaghetti noodles topped with a tomato and onion sauce. We were hungry and it all tasted delicious. Dinner cost 10 soles each,  a large beer cost 10 soles, 2 cokes cost 10 soles – this was beginning to look like a pattern.  How much? Oh, what a surprise, it costs 10 soles.

Our mud and bamboo hut offered very basic accommodations – a bed on a concrete floor.  No lights.  No electricity.  We fell asleep at 8:30 pm and slept like babies all night.

Day 2 – The Oasis to San Jan

In the morning, Chris mentioned he experienced vertigo for the first time in his life on the descent and it scared the crap out of him.  He was terrified he was going to slip and fall over the side of the cliff. Out of nowhere, he had developed a fear of heights! Even more surprisingly, I felt no fear whatsoever – it was as if my fear of heights had transferred to Chris.  I asked him if maybe he was getting sick, a cold perhaps that could be causing some inner ear issues and thus putting him off balance.  He said he felt fine except for the vertigo.

Chris was reluctant to continue the trek, but that would mean going back up the way we had come down the previous day, something I did not want to do. We discussed the options and finally agreed to continue the hike as planned, but to bypass the more remote town of Tapay; this would cut the day’s trek in half to about 3-4 hours. After a very basic breakfast – one fried egg and two dry buns – we headed out at 8:30 am.  The most difficult part of this day’s hike would be the ascent on the other side of the river.  Our legs were already sore from the previous day, but at least we would wear out different muscles as we ascended. Chris was still grumbling about falling off the side of the mountain so we took it nice and slow and headed down towards the river where we crossed a suspension bridge.

On our way down, we passed one of many aqueducts.  I was impressed with the ingenuity of the creators of these water systems that diverted water from higher sources such as waterfalls down towards the canyon valley, providing irrigation for the towns and agricultural terraces.  It seemed pretty clever to me and I suspected these waterways have been around for a very long time. As a result, the valley was so lush and tropical in stark contrast to the arid, desert like mountains above.

It was a relatively easy hike down to the river. Chris was still taking pictures so I took that as a good sign – at least he could distract himself. I think he had resigned himself to his ultimate fate – which of course in his mind was his demise in this remote canyon.

 

 

 

I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with Chris as I had never seen him act this way.  I understand the power of irrational fear, but I also know how to manage my own anxiety so as not to inflict it on everybody else.  But I guess I’ve had years to practice this skill, and Chris was hit with a level of anxiety and irrational fear that he had never experienced before.  And so he let me know how terrified he was – often.

To be honest, Chris’ fretting was starting to get on my nerves, so once we crossed the river and began our ascent, I hiked a little faster to create some distance.  I knew he would be fine, as there was no real danger. These paths had been servicing humans and mules for hundreds of years and I think it was pretty unlikely we were going to fall off the side of the mountain.  But there is no point trying to talk reason to someone in the grips of an anxiety and panic attack. Sometimes it’s just better to stay quiet….and to walk ahead.   I should add a side note here.  After the hike, Chris did some research and apparently people have died falling off the side of cliffs in this canyon and some people have just gone missing.  I’m glad we didn’t have that information beforehand.

Once we finished the ascent on the other side, the path flattened out and hugged the side of the mountain – vertical rock face to the left, and to the right, a sheer drop off to the canyon far below. The path was about 3-4 feet wide in most places. Whenever I looked back, I saw Chris hugging the inside rock face, often hanging on with his hands like his life depended on it.  I found this part of the trail to be the easiest and offered spectacular views that you could at least enjoy.   We had perfect weather each day, sunny and clear.  In the valley it was very hot, but as we gained altitude, the temperatures were more moderate, around 20C would be my guess. Still, the sun was intense and there was little shelter from it along the trail so during the mid-day, it was quite brutal.  At night the temperatures dipped, probably to about 10C – perfect sleeping weather.

We passed through two very primitive villages that were eerily quiet and still with only a few people in sight.  Where was everybody? Many buildings laid in complete ruin, while others looked like ruins but were inhabited as evidenced by the electricity running to them; one even had a satellite dish.  And of course, each town had its own modest church.

 

At this point, we could see the north side of the canyon where we would be ascending the next day. Chris had been fretting about this ascent since we woke up, and now that he saw the vertical rock face, he was close to hysteria.   I have to admit, the rock face did look daunting.

“Mount Doom”

The final leg of this day’s trek required a very steep descent to cross another river followed by an easy hike to San Juan.  Chris inched his way down the mountain side at a painstakingly slow pace.   Here’s a photo that I took the following day when we were climbing on the other side.  It shows the zig zag line of the descent and I think it gives a pretty good idea of how steep this part of the trail was.

When we arrived at San Juan, we picked our hostel, Posada Gloria, based on a random recommendation made by an old man we passed in the last town.  Gloria’s place looked as nice as any, so we figured why not.  We had lunch – alpaca mixed with tomatoes and onions, with rice and french fries. This was our second time eating alpaca and this time it tasted a little gamey.  But we were hungry so we polished off our plates without complaint.

After lunch, Chris sat in a patio chair and stared at the imposing rock face on the other side. I asked him if he was going to just sit there all afternoon and fret, and sure enough, that is what he was planning to do.

I tried my best to distract Chris that afternoon but he was pretty focused on the cliff that was staring him in the face.  I had never seen Chris like this and I was now starting to worry about him.  What if he became a self-fulfilling prophecy and actually did fall off the rock face? I decided not to share with him a technique I often use to manage my own anxiety which is to consider the worse possible outcome and to get comfortable with it.  I didn’t think it would be very helpful for him to imagine himself slipping and hurling down the side of the cliff, landing in a crumpled ball, dead.  Nope, that wouldn’t be helpful.  So I continued my strategy of distraction although I was running out of ideas in this remote little mountain village that was comprised of nothing more than a few humble dwellings.

Rooms with a view – a view of “Mount Doom” that is!

At 7:00 we ate dinner – a delicious vegetable curry with rice.  The lady in this hostel, Gloria, really knew how to cook.  By now it was pitch dark and the sky was illuminated with myriads of bright stars. It was really beautiful. We went to bed early in our very primitive accommodations – check out our stone floor; I again slept like a baby throughout the night but Chris was up half the night – he just couldn’t get a grip.

A stone floor – didn’t have to worry about getting it dirty!

The bathroom and shower facilities were super clean and the water was hot.  
What more could you ask for?

 Day 3 – San Juan to Cabanaconde

As I sat across from bleary-eyed Chris over breakfast, listening to his incessant rant about how terrified he was about the day’s ascent, it dawned on me that this could turn out badly because Chris was so wound up.  I suggested we hire a mule to carry Chris’ pack. He resisted the mule idea – the male ego was still intact in spite of the anxiety – only to concede when I pointed out that we would be contributing to the local economy.

Gloria, the hostel owner,  found us a mule – it would cost 60 soles to carry Chris’ pack, and another 10 soles to carry mine.  For 10 Soles (about $3.75 CAN), I figured I should also do my part to support the local economy and to help protect my husband’s wounded ego.  The mule turned out to be the best decision I have made on this trip thus far, something that Chris kept muttering all the way to the top – thank God for the mule, thank God for the mule.

We set out with our mule, Peter, and our mule owner, Jorge.  After dealing with Chris’ meltdown for the past 24 hours, I wanted to get of the canyon just as much as he did.   While I was a little testy at the beginning of the hike, at a certain point I decided I would do whatever I could to support him up the mountain which basically meant keeping two feet in front of him and offering words of encouragement and promises that we were almost at the top (don’t forget he wasn’t looking anywhere but at his feet, so he had no idea how far we had to go.)

It was a pretty tough hike for most of the way although the path did flatten out for stretches at a time offering the chance to take in the spectacular scenery.  From this vantage point, we could see where we had hiked the day before – the towns were little dots on the other side of the canyon, and the paths looked like pencil lines etched into the side of the mountain.  I kept wanting to stop and take it all in, and to take pictures but Chris freaked out every time I stopped – he was practically in a trance just concentrating on my feet ahead of him, not daring to glance down.

The rocky path out of the canyon.

A view of the two towns we hiked the previous day.  

Previous day’s path into and out of the Oasis.

Finally, we reached the top and Chris literally kissed the ground with utter relief.  We still had a few kilometres to walk into town, but the worse was behind us.  Chris has vowed he will never, ever do a hike like this again.  And I believe him.

One final note:  We returned to Arequipa that same day and by evening, Chris was suffering from a head cold.  I wonder if his vertigo was at least caused in part by some congestion or inner ear inflammation.

A week of history and culture with a twist of terror

Arequipa, the second most populous city in Peru with a population of 836,859 boasts an historic centre that was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2000 in recognition of its architecture and historic integrity. The city sits at an altitude of 2,335 m (7,661 ft) above sea level, at the base of a former snow-capped volcano called El Misti which has an altitude of 5,822 m (19,101 ft) above sea level .

We limited our visit to the historic center of Arequipa which probably doesn’t accurately reflect the city as a whole.  Still, we found Arequipa to be reminiscent of a vibrant European city, rich in culture and heritage. The city is very clean and we felt safe walking the streets both day and night.  We enjoyed picture perfect weather every day – sunny and about 20 Celsius.  Here are some of the highlights of our week in Arequipa.

Silence, please!

The Santa Carolina Monastery was built in 1580 and later expanded in the 17th century.  It was built with sillar, the white volcanic rock that gives Arequipa the name of the White City, and ashlar, petrified volcanic ash from Volcan Chachani overlooking the city. Located just three blocks from the central square, Plaza des Armas, it was easy to find this walled city within the city.

This is a monastery of nuns of the Domincan Second Order.  At it’s peak, there were over 450 people living in the monastery; today there are only about 20 nuns living in the northern corner of the complex, cloistered away from curious tourist eyes.

When researching the monastery before our visit, I was surprised to learn the monastery only accepted women from upper class Spanish families who had to pay a generous dowry – basic admission was the equivalent of $150,000 US in today’s dollars for their daughter’s admission into the monastery.  This monastery was more like a rich girl’s boarding house rather than a convent; each nun brought with her 1-4 servants, and indulged in the same lavish lifestyle she was accustomed to when growing up.   The nuns gave parties, had musicians in to entertain them, and enjoyed fine china, crystal, silk rugs and curtains.  This sure isn’t the picture one conjures up when imagining a monastery in the 16th century! However, the good life came to an abrupt end for the nuns when the Pope caught wind of their shenanigans and sent Sister Josefa Cadena, a strict Dominican nun, to straighten things out in 1871. She sent the rich dowries back to Europe and freed all the servants and slaves, many of whom decided to stay on as nuns themselves.  She instituted internal reforms and transformed the monastery from its country club status to a real monastery where the nuns genuinely renounced the world and embraced a life of poverty.  I bet those nuns didn’t know what hit them!

In the 1960s, the monastery was struck twice by earthquakes, severely damaging the structures, and forcing the nuns to build new accommodation next door. It was then restored and opened to the public. This also helped pay for the installation of electricity and running water, as required by law. It is now one of Arequipa’s prime tourist attractions.

As I walked through the alleyways and courtyards, into the private nun’s chambers which they call cells, it was easy to imagine what life would have been like in this cloistered community hundreds of years ago.  It was so peaceful and serene.   There were nooks and crannies around every corner, stairs leading nowhere which now served as plant stands, and sky lights bathing dark corners with natural light.  Solitude would have been a constant companion, except when you were having parties of course.   I could picture myself living in such an environment….for a few days at least.  After that, it would probably get on my nerves.

More photos of the Monastery of Santa Carolina
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Plaza des Armas

South American towns and cities typically have a central park or plaza; Arequipa’s Plaza des Armas is one of the most beautiful we have seen thus far.  It reminded me of the plaza in Cusco.  Under a background of majestic, snow capped mountains, the plaza is surrounded on three sides by colonial arcaded buildings which are home to many upscale restaurants and cafes, some with charming second story balconies overlooking the square.  The north end is dominated by the impressive, twin towered Cathedral which was founded in 1612.  A large water fountain flows in the center of the square. The plaza is always crowded and bustling with locals; we have seen very few tourists around town.  On Saturday night, we saw three wedding parties being photographed in the plaza (unfortunately we didn’t have our camera at the time – I really hate it when we do that!)  Hundreds of pigeons have made the plaza their home and children love to buy bird feed from local vendors to feed the friendly pigeons. Surprisingly, the plaza is very clean in spite of the huge flock of resident birds.  The plaza was a great place to take a break on a park bench and just people watch.

More photos of the Plaza des Armas as well as street scenes around the Plaza.
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Churches, churches, churches

Like every South American city we have visited, there was an abundance of churches in Arequipa, the vast majority of which are Catholic.  I have to admit that after a while, the churches all start to look alike, at least in our memories.  Still, one feels compelled to at least visit the most outstanding churches.

Of course the Basilica Cathedral of Arequipa occupying the entire north end of the Plaza des Armas was not to be missed.  The construction of this cathedral began on the very day the city was founded: August 15, 1540.  Imagine, less than 40 years after the church construction began, it was reduced to rubble by an earthquake.  In 1600, when the church was almost completed for a second time, another earthquake caused some serious damage, followed by yet another earthquake in 1604 that reduced it once again to rubble.  In spite of its sad history of destruction caused by one earthquake after the other, the most recent being in 2001, today the imposing cathedral stands erect and intact, a testament to the Arequipenos’ determination to protect its most precious church.

A slideshow of the Basilica Cathedral:
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We wandered into several other churches in the historic district but didn’t even take note of their names.  Yes, I guess we’re experiencing church fatigue – maybe you’re getting sick of all the church pictures too.

A slideshow of other churches we saw in Arequipa:
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To market, to market ….

I love going to local markets, the non-tourist kind that sell fruits and vegetables and all kinds of interesting and weird things, just wandering amongst the vendors, immersing myself in the hustle and bustle, catching a glimpse of everyday life of the locals, and shocking my senses.

On Saturday morning, Chris was sick with a head cold so I decided to venture out on my own in search of the the Mercado San Camilo, located between our hostel and the plaza, according to my map, on the Av San Camilo between Av Pierola and Av Peru.  I had some difficulty finding it at first as I thought it would be an outdoor market, perhaps because all the markets we visited in Ecuador were outdoors.  I wandered around the busy streets (I think everybody was out shopping on Saturday morning), and was surprised to see the many Christmas stores stocked to the brim with tacky Christmas decorations just like any Canadian dollar store in December.  I finally found the unmarked entrance to the market which was housed in a large building.

This was a typical market that sold everything from chicken heads (I took a picture because I didn’t think anyone would believe me otherwise) to sombreros.   The market was very well laid out, with overhead signs advertising the various sections – fruits, vegetables, meat, fish, textiles, clothing, etc.  I was most intrigued and equally grossed out by the meat section.  As I walked down one row after another of unrecognizable meat parts, at a certain point I couldn’t stop to take any more pictures as I was overcome by the stench of raw, unrefrigerated meat.  I still managed to snap a few shots of strange delectables, at least I assume Peruvians think of them in that way.

Later that day, I returned to the market to purchase some fruits and vegetables as we decided we would prepare our own food for the next couple of days while Chris recuperated.  I purchased a large bag of vegetables – brocolli, green onions, red pepper, tomatoes, coriander, garlic, carrots – all for under 10 soles (about $3.75 CAN).  Compare this to the Starbucks coffee I bought in the morning (I figured it would cheer Chris up which it did) at a ridiculous price of 8 soles each ($3.00 CAN).  It was the first coffee in three months that resembled our coffee at home and it was our first cup of real coffee since arriving in Arequipa.  As we savoured every sip, we both agreed it was worth every sole.

A slideshow of what I saw on the way to the market and some of the more interesting finds in the market:

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And now for some culture

While wandering around during the day on Saturday, I saw an advertisement for a concert in the Municipal theatre scheduled for 7:00 in the evening: Tuna Mejor de Arequipa.  I was ready for some culture and was prepared to go alone but Chris insisted on coming along even though he was still sick; he was concerned about me being out at night alone even though I had assured him I would take a taxi back.  I think it was good for him to get cleaned up and out of the hostel for a couple of hours.

Unfortunately, we didn’t bring our camera with us (I hate it when we forget our camera or even worse as was the case that night, when we consciously choose to leave it at the hostel) and so I’ll just have to describe the evening for you (I’ll try to keep it brief).  The show was scheduled to begin at 7:00; we arrived at 6:35 with plenty of time to spare. The show began at 7:45.

We were entertained for two hours by a group of 18 men, ranging in age from about 18 to 60+.  They were standing on the stage in three rows: 8 men in the back row playing various sizes of guitars; 6 men in the middle row playing mandolins, and 4 men in the front row – two with percussion instruments, one waving a flag, and the main singer.  All were dressed in a traditional costume comprised of a large black and red cape adorned with flowing colorful ribbons over a puffy white shirt, black pants to the knees, black knee socks and black shoes.

Based on the reactions from the audience, the majority of whom were 60+, I suspect the songs were traditional oldies, some of which were specific to Arequipa. It was all good fun, with the audience singing along, clapping their hands, and waving their arms in the air back and forth as if they were in a rock concert.  An announcer introduced each song but we didn’t understand a word.  During intermission, we were entertained by two young dancers clothed in traditional costumes, dancing a traditional Spanish dance. It was much better when they finally turned the stage lights on – guess the light guy was taking a break too.

Here’s a video from a similar performance by the group in 2007 – not the best video but it will give you an idea of what the show was like.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ahqmyxRWAA&feature=related

 Hiking in the Colca Canyon

Last but not least, we spent three days hiking into the Colca Canyon without a guide. At a depth of 4,160 m (13,650 ft), the Colca Canyon is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, although the Colca Canyon walls are not as vertical.  It is considered the second deepest canyon in the world; the deepest canyon, Cotahuasi Canyon is just up the road.  Maybe you’ve already thought of this, but it didn’t occur to us until we started our first descent to the canyon floor – anyone with issues with vertigo or a fear of heights may have trouble doing this hike.  I’ll tell you all about this harrowing experience in the next post.

We’ve arrived in Arequipa

After a major flight delay that caused us to stay overnight in Lima (compliments of LAN), we arrived in Arequipa this morning under clear, blue skies and warm temperatures.  The 12-hour delay in Quayaquil offered us some down time (in a luxury hotel also compliments of LAN) that we used to plan out the next part of our South American journey.  We now have a high level idea of where we will be going and what we will be doing for the next 3-4 months and we’re very excited about this next leg of our trip.

When we we were in Peru two years ago, we visited Lima, Cusco, and Iquitos; we spent a week in the Amazon jungle and hiked the Inka Trail to Machu Picchu.  This time, we will focus on the southern region around Arequipa and Lake Titicaca which we missed completely the first time around.  After a couple of weeks in this region, we will travel by bus to Bolivia where we have two primary objectives: first secure our Brazilian Visas, and second, visit the salt flats.  We will continue south by bus to Santiago, Chili.  From there, we will fly to the most southern town of Chile, Puntas Arenas where we will spend a couple of weeks hiking in the Patagonia mountain range.  Next we head to the port town of Ushuaia, Argentina – the debarkation point for Antarctica cruises. We are still undecided about this because of the exorbitant cost (prices start at $8,000 per person!).  Hopefully we can snag a good last minute deal that won’t break the bank.

We will then head north, doing some more hiking on the Argentinian side of the Patagonia mountains and ending up in Buenos Aires for a couple of weeks.  Iguazu Falls are a must see and we’ll fit that in somewhere on the way to Brazil.  On March 21, 2012 we are booked on a 21-night transatlantic cruise departing from Sao Paolo, Brazil and ending in Venice, Italy on April 9th.

That pretty much sums up what the next few months look like, but of course, we will continue to be flexible (with the exception of our transatlantic cruise), so we can take advantages of opportunities as they present themselves.  But, back to the present, Arequipa.  We’ve checked into our hostel, Casa de los Pinguinos (House of Penguins) which is very clean and comfortable, and about a ten minute walk from the main plaza.

We’ll spend tomorrow hitting all the sights in town and then we’ll downsize our packs (and store our belongings at the hostel) and head to the Colca Canyon for a multi-day, self-guided trek.  We definitely won’t have internet connection while hiking, nor are we dragging our laptops with us, so we’ll be back online to share our experience later in the week.

On another note, I have added some general info about Peru including the currency (Peruvian Neuvo Sol which has an exchange rate of 1 PEN = 0.38 CAN), the size, the population and some other interesting tidbits about the country.  You can access it from the “Peru” link on the “Where are we now” side bar.  I have also added a summary of our trip to Ecuador which can be accessed from the “Where we’ve been” side bar (near the bottom of the left hand column).