camping meditation - Chilean style

arica is chile's northernmost town right on the border with peru. it's in the middle of the desert - not a deep red kind of desert, but a sandy, dirty, windy type of desert. unfortunately it's not that attractive, it's bloody hot, very expensive (I guess this is Chile now) and all together not the sort of place I feel like staying for long.

The coastline around Arica

It's fascinating to see how much more affluent people are here - just 20kms away from Peru. Clothes, cars, houses - all in general are flashier, bigger and not necessarily nicer. And people look Chilean, and definitely sound Chilean. I know, I am IN Chile, but I just marvel how different it is to Peru.

the bus connections here were typical of south america - 6.5hours from Arequipa to Tacna, then off the bus, find out where the other bus station is for international connections to Arica. Buy an exit ticket for the station. Start lining up in a very long queue for the bus. After 1 hour and about 7 people from the front of the queue, find out at there's no more buses leaving, then rush to taxis, discover that my exit ticket was for buses not taxis, get new exit ticket, hunt around for a free spot with about 50 others. Realise I'm 3 Peruvian Soles short of the fare, go in and change US dollars for Chilean Pesos, marvel at how low the rate is (it used to be 7 to 1 last year, now it's 4.5 to 1US now) finally get a taxi, ride for about 30kms with a driver that thinks
he's on an autobahn in Germany, therefore passing about 30 cars on the way to the border, wait in another line, jump out and start lining up for the peruvain exit border, jump back in the taxi, back out at the
chilean border this time with pack on for customs inspection, line up again, get my entry stamp, drive at a much more leisurely pace into arica, and finally meet Philipe at the bus station. (who had got the
times wrong and had been waiting for 5 hours. By the time I arrived? 11.30pm. can you believe the border is open that long!

Finally about to leave Tacna - that's our taxi - 5 people plus 1 baby plus the driver - speeding about 150kmh towards the Peruvian border to jump the customs line

tonight we are in a campground on the outskirts of Arica. there's a whole series of campgrounds sprouted out of the desert, and no, it's not like an oasis. unfortunately. more like dusty lots with some swimming
pools and bbqs. people don't come here to camp, rather to swim, eat, play and party! it's 10pm now, and we've got doof doof, latin, pop and drinking games going on about 20m away in the next campground. it's a
bit stuffy in the tent, so for meditation tonight I sat outside on the play equipment - using my riding pants as a cushion and sitting on my riding jacket. it was surprisingly comfortable and oddly serene to be
practicing love and compassion to all with the chants of 'down down down' drinking games in response. Every now and then there'd be louder screams, as I guess the power was going in and out. Matched with the
soft tiptoe steps of dogs wandering around doing their thing, and the odd dogfight, a standard night of meditation in a south american campground!

Off to the campground - we're trying 2 up with both sets of luggage on the sidecar. A slightly ambitious but very reasonable idea

tomorrow i hope we set off for Parque Nacional Lauca - it's hard to imagine that it's 150kms away, 20deg Celcius colder, raining with thunderstorms, and 3000m higher in altitude. we were meant to go today,
but after sleeping like logs until 10.30am (it might have had something to do with the pisco sours that we had last night at frank's place - where we stored our bikes) and Philipe nearly passing out from heat and
lack of food, we decided to relax here this afternoon.

Set up at the campground

it was the better choice. after having relaxed in our mess of stuff, we both now finally we feel like we're traveling again, rather than being overwhelmed with just being back. still there's questions and decisions
on the future route, but for now i'm just happy to smile and lie down to the chattering, beats and odd shouts from next door.

ps. music and party still going morning after - now 11.30 am and back onto latin music after some slower music during the middle of the night! they know how to party:)

pathway to heaven... in a sidecar that is

i think i've landed in a piece of organic farm living heaven... somehow
in the very present but giving an inkling of what I want in my future.
Yesterday we made to Samaipata and are now happily installed in the
campground on the organic Finca (farm) called La Vispera. With terraced
vegetable patches, a herberia, cafe with tasty produce and good coffee,
little luxuries like gushing hot hot water, placemats on the table and
nice toilet paper you can really feel the touches of the Dutch owners
coming through.

3 days ago on the way to the waterfall in La Pajcha I dropped the bike
and managed to sprain my right foot - it's still hurting like a bitch,
and I'm doing a marvelous job hobbling around... but it's all well just
a bit frustrating.

The biggest upside though is that for the last 2 days I've been riding
Philipe's sidecar. It is enormous fun - and I get to ride with my right
foot elevated (yes remembering my rest ice compression Elevation) while
riding and downing ibuprofen. Because there's no worry about balance for
me it's more relaxing riding the sidecar - and really fun to manouvre mr
churchill (the bike's name) around. It's also odd watching Philipe ride
my little, in comparison, motorised bicycle!

Mr Churchill is really an enjoyable way to travel - it allows you pile a
lot more into it, and after seeing groups of parents and children all
teetering on one small rusty 200cc bike, I think much safer but just as
fun if you want to carry around kids.

Corning is not quite as fun, but you can do your fair share of butt
sticking out/leaning as I remember seeing Mark doing so some weeks back
when driving with Philipe to the sunday markets outside of Sucre. The
beefy sound of the engine also is a nice change from the sewing maching
putt putt of my bike - and sand finally is slippery fun instead of the
usual stressing out that I'm going to have to end up huffing and puffing
to pick up my bike after slipping off.

So Philipe - watch out! I think my foot is going to be needing quite
some resting in the days following - and Mr Churchill is hopefully happy
to oblige:)

This afternoon I'm going to have a chat to Margritte (one of theowners)
and ask her to show me around her herbs, garden and edible flowers.
Being here reminds me of watching my parents pick a colourful and
scented lunch from their garden of leaves, flowers and spices. There's
something about seeing people contented and happy in their surroundings
- and working with their hands and the land to create their own piece of
paradise.

Now - for my piece of paradise? What shall I create for myself?

Land before time country - and the itchy and scratchy show

I've often had the thought while on the bike in southern Bolivia - that
this is dinosaur / land before time type of country. It's something
about the scale of rolling valleys and high planes, the jurassic rocks
jutting out of mossy green shrub (well what I imagine 'jurassic' to be),
the empty open spaces. Even though there's some fencelines, and a dirt
track, the expanse somehow takes me to another time.

Especially with the lowering afternoon sun throwing shadows far into the
distance - that kind of light just heightens the feeling of lost time.
Tonight in Vallegrande - the town where Che was brought after his
execution - in 1997 a local admitted that he was buried under the
airstrip and he was exhumed and buried in Cuba.

And now for the itchy and scratchy show... somehow we got lots of bites
at a campsite 2 nights ago... the kind that seem to lie low, and then
strike with an extreme attack of itchieness. So now i can't keep my
hands and nails off them. it sounds somehow like a b grade porn show -
the sounds that are coming from the corner of the room as I
scratch....but i tell you the joy of scratching the hell out of these
bites -especially around my ankles... is totally worth it...
and now back to the scratching....

Can I really do this? More regular blogging??

I'm pretty good at avoiding writing blog posts, and then in one big hit trying to recount countless amazing experiences and cramming them all into one mammoth post. So I'm going to try and change tact... from long
recounts, to shorter bursts of travel thoughts, experiences and tales.

It'll still be of the musing, rambling type of post, but hopefully it will give more of a day to day feel of how and where I'm travelling.

Tonight I find myself in La Higuera, the town were Che Guevara was captured and then executed on the 9 October 1967 (nonethess in their local school building). It's not a place we had really planned to come to, but on being here it makes you realise the passions of people, and those who keep the story alive. Often they are foreigners - and especially here in South America, there seems to be many French who have relocated and settled for various reasons. I really admire these people - from what they've told me settling, being accepted and successfully running a business here is difficult.

Today's the second day of being back on the road - yesterday Philipe and I started out from Sucre, and after making it past Tarabuco we were screeched to a halt at a road blockage. We thought it would be a 10
minute wait or so, but having a near physical altercation with a Bolivian woman about taking a photo, we found out that the road was in fact closed from 7am to 6.30pm every day for roadworks, and we could
only pass from 6.30pm to 7am. Bit of a shock that - especially as it put to a stop our first day being back on the road.

We did the sensible thing and turned back to Tarabuco and instead got up super early and made it before 7am. That turned into a 10 hr travelling day, and at that near desperate moment we found a campsite hidden from the road with the company of numerous bitey flyey type things.

Travelling with Philipe in his sidecar is definitely a different experience - if I thought I got lots of looks travelling loaded up as a solo woman, me and my bike were seriously feeling left out by all the looks that Philipe gets. I guess motorbikes are pretty much everywhere - and sidecars definitely not. The speed at which a crowd of boys and men (and some women) gather around him when we stop is amazing!
So the last 2 days have been quite some amazing scenery - from very dry open rolling hills around Sucre, to red rock pinnacle formations as we lowered in altitude, to blue lagoons seeping their way out of a seemingly desert landscape as we neared La Higuera.

I'm really enjoying being back on the bike - catching smells in the air, practicing riding standing up in dirt and sandy patches, rolling into towns for a cold sparkly drink and just enjoying moving again.

Going onto Samaipata tomorrow - from what people have said and what I've read in the lonely planet, sounds like a place we'll probably chill and explore for a couple of days. The route over the next month is slowly coming together - in early October my parents are coming to Peru so it's a good kick up the backside to get moving again. It stresses me out though - after my somewhat aimless rambling and no time pressure to travel, now having to be somewhere at a certain point is making me realise how much there is to do and just so little time! Yes I know - people go around the world twice in the time I've taken to get through Argentina and CHile, but I just can't seem to move much faster.

PS. there's a horse at our campsite - just had wonderful time chatting to him under a full moon - he / she / the horse had a very soft coat, and kept on sniffing my clothes (might have had something to do with the
orange I'd just eaten). I had caught the horse napping standing up - but he was chilled and seemed happy to have me scratching his ears and patting, well his left side of his face. A lovely interlude on a warm winter evening.