Some Fun Facts

Fun facts about the past 10 months, or 39 weeks, or 271 days

I have slept in 118 beds.

Thats three different beds a week. My favourites were a hammock on the beach and a camp bed in the desert Rajasthan. If I were travelling for any longer I would like to stay in one place for a while (my longest stay was just under two weeks on Koh Tao doing my dive courses).

For example, I found out ony a few weeks ago about WWOOFING (Willing Workers On Organic Farms), which has placements all over the world. I would have loved to have worked on a coffee farm in Costa Rica for a month or so - next time!

I have travelled on...

22 Planes -  too many, I know

14 Boats - 1 over night

16 Trains - 10 of them over night

24 Overnight Buses - and on hundreds of other bus journeys under 12 hours long.

If we assume that each over night journey is 12 hours long (and many are a lot, lot more), this equals 420 hours or 17.5 days on sleeper buses, trains and boats.

It should be obvious but I didn't realise that one of the most time consuming, and boring) aspects of 'travelling' is the actual travel. Lots of these journeys have been very, very boring and my patience has definitely improved. Never again will I complain when I'm stuck in a traffic jam or a train leaves ten minutes late.

However some have been amazing - on the roof of a bus in Nepal, tiny planes into the jungle, sticking my head out of the open door of a train in India, slow boats along the Mekong and practicing my Spanish on public buses in South America.

They are also by no means the extent of my transport. I have also been on mopeds, dune buggies, camels, elephants, cable cars, tuktuks, campervans, dug out canoes, kayaks, zip lines, mules, bamboo trains, mountain bikes.

Baños, Ecuador

Our last week in South America is spent making our way down to Lima, stopping at various places along the way - famous market towns for last minute shopping, beach towns for last minute tanning and, my favorite, the town of Baños for thermal pools, steam baths and massages. Baños, in the foothills of Ecuador's Tungurahua volcano, is surrounded by green peaks which are dripping with waterfalls. Tourists, including Ecuadorians, flock here to soak in one of the many thermal baths.

Above: The main square and church. On the right - one of many touristy shops 

selling "I Love Baños" t-shirts, taffy, pool inflatables and fridge magnets. 

After several looong bus journies the day, and night, before Alex and I spend out first morning in Baños in a 'Steam Box'. This is hard to describe so the picture will have to do. We alternate ten minutes in the steam box with various forms of water torture - wet towels, plunge pools and being sprayed down with a hose - administered by a very bossy woman. We plan to have another steam bath the next morning, but for some reason they're not working, so have a massage instead. $20 for an hour, I really like Baños.

Above: Steam Box (This is not me - in case you've forgotten what I look like).

There is a little wooden bench inside and a door at the front for getting in and out. 

The top also folds down, two half moons making a hole for the neck.

We manage to meet up with some friends we met in Cartagena (Chris, Brenna and Kyle from Vancouver) who invite us to go canyoning with them which, they explain, is basically jumping down small waterfalls and abseiling down big ones.

Kitted up in wetsuits, helmets, harnesses and plimpsoles, we receive very brief instructions on how to abseil ("Hand on rope like this - bad. Hand on rope like this - good!"). Luckily I already know how to abseil.

To get to the water falls we ride in the back of a pickup truck (which is exciting on the windy mountain roads) and short hike (boiling in or wetsuits). The water is lovely and refreshing. We start off walking down the river, climbing down some smaller falls and cooling down in pools.the first abseil is small, about 12ft, but it is a lot harder than normal abseiling. The water makes it impossible to see the surface of the rock and where I can put my foot. Parts are very slippery and I loose my footing, the water now rushing into my face and bashing my knee. Eventually I get the hang of it, although our instructor, Xavier, showed us all up by bouncing down in three or four jumps. In total we abseil down six waterfalls, the highest 45ft, the very last one smooth and sloping enough to slide down on our bums into the pool below. 

*The photos from this are all on a disc, so I will put add them when I get home in a few days (!).*

To sooth our bruises and aching arms we spend the evening in the thermal baths. These are open to everyone at just $3 and very very busy. The main pool reminds me of the scene in Titanic after the ship has sunk and all that is left is a mass of people - shoulder to shoulder, shouting and pushing.

Above: The main pool 

 Slightly more relaxing is the hot pool, at around 45○c. At first I can't go in further than my shins, so I plunge into the near by icy pool and make myself sit there for five minutes. Then I try again. This time I get in the hot pool in one go. Have you ever, in the bath, put your toe under the hot tap, expecting it to be cold, and for a second you can't actually tell the difference? It feels like that, pins and needle-y, all over my body. After just a few seconds the pain goes away and I sit very still as the water around my body cools down. Every now and then someone moves, moving the hot water around me, and I scowl at them. 

I last only a minute or two before I feel faint and sick. This time the freezing pool feels look warm and lovely. After a few more rotations - cold, hot, cold hot - the experience becomes a bit more pleasurable and the difference in temperate between the two pools (seemingly) less and less. After an hour or so I feel thoroughly invigorated and very clean, but also very light headed. 

Above: The hot pool 

On my final day in Baños I would like to say that I hiked up to the "swing on the edge of the world", but we got a taxi, not fancying the four hour hike after such relaxation. We get amazing views of Baños and its waterfalls, and each have several goes on the swing, which is prefectly safe as there is a rope seat belt... 

Above: Baños

 Above: Swing on the edge of the world and La Casa Del Arbol

Medellin

Away from the hot, humid coast the city of Medellin ('Med-a-jean') has a permanent spring-like climate due to its atitude combined with proximity to the equator. It is the second largest city in Colombia and its residents, the savvy paisas, are very proud of their city and of themselves. 

Medellin is notorious for having been the territory of mafia boss Pablo Ecsobar in the 1980s, who was once the largest exporter of cocaine in the world. Escobar founded his own polotical party, two news papers and was elected to congress. Durning the all out war between the mafia and the government, motor cycle hit men were paid $1000 for every police man they killed. Murders, kid-napping and 'narcoterrorism' were common place. However, manay locals saw Escobar as a Robin Hood figure; building hospitals and even offering to pay off Colombia's international debt, which was billions of dollars. 

My guide on the free 'Real City Tour', also caled Pablo, is keen to point out that his city is so much more than its association with Escobar. It has a proud history - founded upon coffee (the climate allows several harvests a year) chocolate and eventually gold - and a bright future due to the government's strict dealings with the drug lords and guerilla rebels. When president Uribe was elected in 2002 kidnappings dropped by 80-90% in one year. Once dangerous public areas were turned into art museums, schools and libraries.

Above: Light display in what was once the most dangerous square in Medellin

Escaltors and cable cars were put on the surrounding hills, home to the poorest of Medellin's residents, giving them pride in their neighborhoods

Above: Cable cars as part of the metro system

What was one the most dangerous cities in the world, plagued by terrorism, corruption and poverty, is now looking ahead, particularly in regards to tourism with forigners coming to eat in its organic cafes, shop in its malls and ride Colombia's only metro system which is cheap, graffiti free and the pride of the Paisas.

This positive attitude toward tourism is something I have noticed thoughout Colombia, whose tourism slogan is 'Colombia: the only risk is not wanting to leave'. People are friendly and welcoming and I have felt safer here than Ecuador with its 'express kidnappings'* or Peru with its corrupt police. In Medellin the police ride segways and in Cartagena they wear shorts. Colombia is still the world's largest exportor of cocaine but, as the goverment points out, destorying the crops by polluting the land and the rivers does nothing but damage unless demand from the west decreases.

Above: Public art galleries

* Taxi drivers work with petty criminals, holding people hostange while their ATM accounts are drained. 

Tayrona National Park

From the crazy-ness of Cartagena Alex and I make our way to Parque Nacional Tayrona. Covered in dense jungle and lined with palm fringed beaches which are scattered with huge boulders it is the perfect place for a few days of sun bathing, swimming and sleeping in a hammock.

It takes two hours for us to trek to the furthest beach, Cabo San Juan, where for an extortionate 25,000 pesos (an AC dorm in Cartagena was 18,000) we can rent a damp hammock. But it is worth it as they are located in the mirador, a look out on the rocks above the ocean - I wake up to the sun rising over the caribbean ocean, the sound of the waves and the breeze in my face. Its several flights of stairs and a trek across the beach to use the bathroom, but the views are incredible.

spend two days lying on our beach, swimming in the blue blue water, and on the third day head to a different beach, just because we can. Its no better or worse than ours - the sand is just as yellow, water just as clear and sea food just as fresh. Over the four days I get through two bigs books, several pod casts and go swimming at 6 every morning before a fresh fruit breakfast. Perfect.

Cartagena, Colombia

After three flights and an over night kip on an airport bench and Alex and I arrive in Cartagena on Colombia's Caribbean coast for a couple of weeks of sun before returning to rainy England. Cartagena (pronounced 'Carta-hey-na') is probably the most beautiful town I have ever been to. I don't do anything while I'm there - just wonder around the cobbled streets of the old town, salsa music playing from the shuttered windows of the pastel coloured colonial mansions, bourganvillia trailing from their balconies.

In the mornings we get breakfast (fresh passionfruit juice and amazing coffee) from an open fronted cafe, watching the vendors push their wagons of exotic fruit up and down the street and the old men sitting on their door steps smoking and chatting.

Before it gets to hot we go for a walk: past street art, men playing chess in the plaza and flamoyantly dressed women selling fruit. All of this in the shade of hundreds of beautiful buildings - churches, mansions, museums, clock towers, castles and just 'ordinary' houses with families sitting on their steps watching the world go by. By around 13:00 it is hot and we relax in a leafy plaza with a fresh lemonade, water from the fountains splashing and cooling our faces and wild parakeets in the trees.

In the evenings we have a cocktail at one of the bars on the top of the city walls, overlooking the Caribbean sea. At last I'm in a place where it doesn't turn freezing the moment the sun goes down and there is a warm, salty breeze off the eater. After the sun sets the streets fill with musicians, jugglers, mimes and panama hat sellers. They move out of the street only when a horse-drawn carriage trundles past carrying diners in their finest clothes (linen suits for the men and a lot of gold jewellery for the women) to the numerous pavement cafes where they eat at immaculate tables while next door a man sells beers from a cool box.

When the christmas lights are turned on all this is amplified. There are more people on the streets and their clothes are more extravagant. The music is louder and every building is lit with lights - from the two up two down houses along a tiny alley to the dome of the cathedral.

Cuyabeno. Part 3/3

The people who live in the jungle are as much a part of it as the animals and plants we have been learning about over the past few days. People have been living in Cuyabeno ever since humans moved down from North America thousands of years ago and have learnt to live in harmony with the rainforest. To learn more about the local people we make our way to a village down river, stopping to look at monkeys and parrots on the way.

Above: On the way to the village

At one point Jairo stops the boat by a large bees nest suspended in a tree. In a whisper he explains that, on the count of three, he wants us to shout 'MARCH' as loudly as possible and then be very quiet. We all want to know why, but as usual he just tells us to trust him. At first we hear nothing then there is a steady munching sound which gradually gets louder and louder. As a defense mechanism the bees rub themselves up against the side of their nest in unison - creating a surprisingly loud and threatening sound. It really does sound like soldiers on parade and is about as loud and in sync as one.

Other than its jungle location the village is very like a lot of others I have visited. The locals are not walking around naked or in lion cloths, the houses are wooden and on stilts and, of course, there is a football pitch. Jairo explains a bit about their way of life - hunting, fishing and farming cacao. He then introduces us to a woman who will be teaching us to make the local bread, made out of the yuka (pronounced 'you-ka') root, which is a bit like a big parsnip.

Above: Yuka roots

 To plant the yuka a branch is chopped off an existing tree, stuck in the soil and left for a few months. The villagers make the bread once a week (it stays good for months) and eat it with every meal. We have ours wih tuna after digging up the root, grating it and cooking it on an open fire. There are no added ingredients - the grated yuka is just spread over a clay plate and, as it cooks, it fuses together into a flat bread. It is supposed to be very healthy and tastes surprsingly good but I don't think I could eat it with every meal.

Above: Me grating the yuka

Above: Cooking the grated root into a flat bread

Before we leave we each get a change to try shooting poison darts (without the poison) The blow pipe is made of bamboo and very long, making it almost too heavy to hold. My first two attempts are pathetic, the dart landing pretty much at my feet, but on the third I actually hit the target - a lime on a stick. Alex manages to hit the stick itself and Jairo nearly hits a passing chicken. Other than that no one manges to hit anything but the soil.

Down river from the village lives the local shaman (called Tomas) whom we get a chance to talk to wih Jairo as our translator. The shaman is not considered to be a 'magic man' but a doctor who treats normal illnesses. Before treating patients Tomas and other shamen drink a hallucinogenic drink made from the ayahuasca root. Lots of tourists like to pay a lot of money to try the drug, making them throw up and have terrifying visions. Shamen use ayahuasca to connect with the sprits who help them treat the problem. They train for years to be able to tolerate the drug and understand the visions it gives them. Some times the answer is 'go to hospital' but often the answer is for Tomas to send his wife into the jungle looking for a certain healing plant.

Anyone can become a shaman if they can handle the training, although it is often a hereditary role. Tomas' twelve year old son is already taking the drug as part of his training. Women are allowed to be shamen, and they're very good at it, but they can't practice while they're pregnant or mensturating. It is also forbidden for women to be around a shaman during this time, which is why Tomas lives away from the village.

Tomas tells us that his magnificent dress helps him connect with the jungle (feathers, seeds and grasses). It is also like a western doctor's white coat - it marks him out from other people. He doesn't wear it every day, but we're assured that it is not simply a show for us tourists. When we've had a chance to ask all our questions Tomas performs a cleansing ritual on one of the group. This I don't volunteer for as it seems to mostly involve being hit over and over again with stinging nettles.

Cuyabeno. Part 2/3

Although the majority of our time is spent on the boats, jungle walks enable us to experience being in the rainforest and get closer to some of the smaller animals (i.e. bugs). The rubber boots I've been given come in handy the moment I step off the boat... right into a bog. It turns out that the difference between land and water is not so clear cut here.

Rather worryingly Jairo tells us that, during the walk, we are just going to have to trust him; "If I give you something to hold or eat, don't ask questions, just do it". He tests us almost immediately, cutting some bark off a tree and telling us to put it in our mouths. It is very bitter and a member of our group comments that it tastes like their malaria pills. Surprise surprise, pharmaceutical companies make anti-malarials from this very tree, although we’re tells us that a simple tea from the bark if far more effective and is used by locals with success, even after the malaria has taken hold.

Above: This ant is a bit bigger than a fifty pence piece. To close wounds locals 

allow the ants to bite them before ripping the ant's head from its body, 

leaving the huge mandibles pinching the wound together. 

Yes I try it and yes it hurts. 

The sap from one tree is sticky enough that it can be used to seal leaking boats and the flowers from another are so effective as a contraceptive when eaten that some local women are sterile and it is no longer used.

Above: Sticky tree sap

Before long comes another opportunity for Jairo to test out our faith in him. He asks if any of us are irresistible to mosquitos and when I put my hand up he takes it and places it gently over an ants nest. Immediately the ants begin to swarm all over my hand. When they reach my elbow he tells me to take my hand away and smear the ants on my skin, the idea being that the smell produced by the squashed ants acts as a natural mosquito repellent. Everyone stiffs my arm and agrees that its giving off quite a pungent smell.

Upon reaching a small clearing everyone has a go at swinging on the hanging roots (not vines) of a huge tree - Tarzan style.

 When the root breaks, and the root after that,  Jairo enlists our help to look for a small colourful frog which will probably be somewhere nearby. Before long someone cries "I think I've found it!" and Jairo leaps over yelling "Don't touch it". Its a poison dart frog, and Jairo assures us that stories about how deadly it is have not been exaggerated.  A dart that has simply touched the back of this frog is enough to kill a human and frequently used by locals for hunting deer, monkeys and wild boar with no ill effects to the meat.

Above: Poison dart frog

Above: Slightly less poisonous caterpillar

 Some of the animals we come across aren't so useful, such as the huge tarantula relaxing on a tree until Jairo pokes it with a stick, which makes even the bravest of us take a step back and sends others squealing into the undergrowth… where there are probably even bigger bugs waiting for them.

Luckily I’m not too bothered by the tarantula because on our next jungle walk, a night walk, I foolishly volunteer to ‘hold’ a tail-less scorpion… which then gets put on my face.

This is too much, I might look calm in the pictures but I am actually saying, very firmly, “PLEASE take it off now…. Ok, you can take it off now. GET IT OFF”. My eyes are tightly closed so I can’t see anything, but I can feel how big the thing is – its legs stretching from one ear to the other. The moment it is removed and placed into the undergrowth I jump up and down, shaking my hair and whimpering. No more volunteering.

Other than this the night walk is amazing. Once again, the emphasis here is not on seeing animals lined up to have their picture taken, but to experience being in the rainforest.

Above: Fully grown constrictor

Above: Can you see it? Jairo spots this tiny bird,

 way up in the trees with just a head torch.

 At one point Jairo encourages us to turn our torches off and be as quiet as possible. The jungle around us is humming with various animals – not just insects but monkeys and birds too. Most of us have our eyes closed but when I open mine the floor is lit up with glowing fungus. Jairo picks some up and waves it in the air leaving a trail of light, but when I turn my torch on all he is holding is a pile of leaves – the fungus visible only in the dark.

Above: A huge locust about 4 inches long

Above: Tree frog

The boat meets us at the end of our walk and I can be sure that all the creepy crawlies are blown off me as we speed to the lodge, just as fast as if we were driving during the day. The air is warm and rich smelling – earth, plants and water – and above us Jairo points out Venus amongst hundreds of other stars. I sit back and let the jungle rush past me, looking forward to falling asleep safely under my mosquito net.