Bienvenidos a Cartagena de Indias (pt 2)

We are warmly welcomed back to the North Star hostel in Bocagrande, Cartagena. 

Bocagrande, Cartagena

Adam is waiting and eager to tell us all his recent escapades! We spend the evening having a good chin-wag and eating chicken at the famous Kokorico, hmmm! Adam orders a WHOLE chicken!

Greasy chops, gloves & a whole chicken!

There are lots of chains selling broasted, fried or barbecued chicken everywhere in Colombia (very tasty!). The following day my bank card does not arrive (it is floating around in Miami apparently). The flight from Miama to Cartagena is surprisingly cheap because it is such a popular route (here they call it "the silicon run"). The others have gone to La Isla Rosario so I head to the Surf club with Pedro on a mission to sell a surfboard. I try 'limonada de coco' and spend the next few hours relaxing near the beach, watching the surfers (talking to crazy beach-bums) and watching the waves crash against the Tierra Bomba. In the afternoon, we wander the Old City, a World Heritage site. It is like wandering around a film set! The buildings are so well preserved. There is a fantastic atmosphere here - people selling fruit, donkeys and carts, horses and carriages, vendors and people rushing around doing their errands. It is nice to have a local guide - spending time in bookshops, coffee-shops and wandering the various stalls and shops. Later I visit the modern art gallery in the Old Town which is well worth a browse.

Approach to the old town

Donde Fidel & La Candela

Wandering the Old City

Lemon Pie building

Rustic balconies

Colourful Mamas

Cartagena is just about the hottest place I remember being in my life! The humidity smothers me, all day, every day. This is not balmy, it is bloomin' boiling!!!! We all whinge about how sweaty and shiny we are, even late at night. It is time to say goodbye to Mauri as he travels back to Medellin, and then to Norway. Next day, myself and the Norwegian ladies have a day of shopping. The shops in the old city are wonderful - lots of boutiques with beautiful dresses, shoes, jewelery and bikinis. We are a bad influence on each other, and end up buying more that we should! And now that we have new dresses....we will have to go and dance some more to show them off!

Adam's Birthday celebrations begin this evening. We make a dash to the supermarket and prepare a spread.. lots of nibbles, wine and topped off with strawberries and champagne! The other guys in the hostel look on in envy as we three lovely ladies run around creating the feast!

Party nibbles!

We play '13' for the first time since Chile. Once again there is a really nice group of people at this hostel, and we have a good laugh. We go back to Tu Candela for more dancing!

Plaza de San Domingo

Birthday Boy & his fan-club, Tu Candela

The following day my bank card arrives, wohoo! Today is Adam's actual birthday (26 years today!). We spend most of the day at Club Nautico talking to various captains about sailing to Panama in the coming week - this turns out to be a huge effort on our part, far more complicated that we could have imagined and we end up spending a great deal of time at the Club over the next few days (more about this in my next entry).

Club Nautico, where we spend many hours trying to organise a boat-trip to Panama

There are not really so many things to do in Cartagena once the beach and Old City have been explored, so aside from hanging out at the yacht club, we relax. In the evening, we gather the troops and go to a very nice bar/restaurant called Cafe del Mar. There is great view of Old City, the 'new city' (high rise) and the ocean - and for the first time in days we finally cool down with the sea breeze!

Cafe del Mar

I eat Ceviche de Corvina for dinner, which is delicious. Suddenly there is a heavy rain shower, and we all have to squeeze inside. Once the shower passes, we move further into the Old City and get recommended a 'great bar' which actually turns out to be a strip-club where it costs $10.00 USD for a drink! Colombia is not cheap but that is ridiculous! With general consensus, we move swiftly along to another place. We spend the night dancing once more, the music really is too good to sit down! A good night is had by all. Some of us (less sensible folk) continue to another place later which turns out to be a mafia club, it gets a bit seedy. I am relieved to leave. There are some dodgy characters in this city, to say the least...

On every street, every Plaza there is music

and dance!

The most narrow street in the Old City

Adam and Angelica show us their moves!

We travelling-buddies pose for a picture

The Chicas

The next day, I decide that I need a change of scenery from North Star and move to another hostel in the centre of town - Media Luna Art Hostel. This hostel is brand-new (work not yet completed) and luxurious (Olwyn you would adore it!). 

Media Luna Art Hostel

Adam goes to Taganga and the Norwegians go to Playa Blanca, I decide to stay in the City. Not on my own for more that a couple of hours before I find out that "Canada" (aka Alan from Toronto) is in town and staying across the road. We have fruit smoothies, and wander the Old City (again!). I am starting to become oblivious to the comments from people on the street, and also, to the amount of people offering drugs. It is probably hard to imagine but I feel completely safe here walking around, despite being approached constantly. Colombians like to laugh, so as long as you smile, make a joke or keep walking there is never any hassle. There are more tourists here than anywhere else in the country, but we are still a novelty it seems! In the evening, a group of us head to Havana Club, Media Luna where there is a fantastic live band - salsa, cha-cha, rumba!

Havana Club

Canada sails off to Panama the following morning (he has chosen a smaller boat which we posh ladies are not willing to squeeze into!). The Norwegians return in the evening. I relax by the pool.

The food in Colombia has been a mixed adventure! The traditional dishes in the centre of the country, such as bandeja paisa and arrepa, are tasty but stodgy. They serve bananas with everything. The food is different according to each region as a result of climatic and cultural influences. Here in the north the fish and shellfish are fresh and delicious, whereas in the south the stews and soups are delicious. There are also many more Carribean and Indian influences in the cooking (and people) in the north. The differences between northern and southern Colombia are great. In the north people are darker, more laid-back and more gregarious, perhaps people are more sophisticated and westernised in Bogota and more genuine/down-to-earth around Medellin. These are big generalisations of course! The landscape, the food, the weather, the music, the architecture, the colours, the clothes - everything changes throughout the country which makes Colombia an interesting place to spend time. My favourite restaurant in Cartagena is El Bistro, in the Old City. For best value and delicious, my favourite is Crepes and Waffles, Bocagrande. I have also eaten in some dodgy-looking cafeterias in the backstreets around Media Luna which have been pretty tasty (and cheap). In one particular place the waitress told me what I was having without further discussion (it was a good choice though!). Some meals have been less than average. The fruit is outstanding, there many fruits which I had never tasted before.

After many days of talking and negotiating we have organised a trip on converted fishing boat with a French captain. We are very excited, but still have three days until we sail......anyone for a walk around the Old City?!?

Taranga..Tanjanja...Tanganga?!

We drive from Cartagena, through Barranquilla, to Santa Marta and finally to our destination, the small fishing village of Taganga. 

Taganga, situated a couple of kilometres outside of Santa Marta

I sleep through the bus journey, and after a quick scoot around we find some beds at the Bayview hostel, Taganga. Thank goodness for the sea breeze, it is so great to be out of the city. For such a tiny town, there are so many tourists. It has got a laid-back hippy-feel, an easy place to relax and more than likely stay longer than originally intended!

First glimpse of Taganga at sunset

The fishermen, forever busy with their boats

Helene and I are on 'mission-detox' so everyday we swim in the pool at 8am, followed by a 25- minutes mountain-walk to Playa Grande (the next beach along). Joe, our new English friend comes along and does semi-detox, washed down by 5 or so beers in the evening! ;-)

Main street, Taganga

Taganga beach, not so nice as Playa Grande

On the beach, we drink fresh fruit smoothies and eat fresh shrimp (with a dash of lime, Tabasco & red onions). 

Joe and Helene waiting for a very 'special' fruit salad!

The sea is fantastic to swim as there are few waves at Playa Grande (there are a few more at Taganga).

Helene & Joe (new friend, UK) reading on Playa Grande 

Three men in a boat

Marie and Mauri have decided to learn how to scuba-dive and are doing their PADI Open Water course. 

Marie getting reading for her first dive 

I really like Bayview hostal, maybe one of my favourites. I like the bright colours, breezy rooms and it seems to attract a really nice bunch of people (like ourselves!). 

Bayview hostel, Taganga

Over-looking our balcony is a type of farm - basically a yard filled with goats, donkeys and cock-a-doodle-doos. What a menagerie - the noise is incredible at various parts of the day and the cocks begin crowing earlier than 6am most mornings. On my first morning, I look out to see the farmer-man has just killed a goat - which is now hanging from a tree while he skins it right in the middle of the yard with all the other goats! How horrible. Inside the hostel there are big beanbags everywhere, so in the evenings we stretch out and read our books, or practice yoga on the balcony. We also try some of the restaurants along the beach. Marie and Mauri are very good students - even bringing their books along to the restaurants! 

Mauri reading about decompression sickness etc.

Our favourite restaurant, with a group of people from the hostel

I feel so relaxed! On Friday, Helene and I go diving at Tayrona National Park. It is so good to be in the water again, and we see lots of cool things on both dives. Including a big, grumpy barracuda. He circles us twice, annoyed that we have (accidentally) interrupted his nap and then leaves us. The colours are not so vibrant here as in Thailand or the Red Sea - but it is a nice (and cheap - £30 for 2 dives) place to dive. 

Back in the gear, happily under water

We debate about doing The Lost City trek near Santa Marta (which takes 6 days) and also about spending a few days in Tayrona park, but we have agreed to meet Adam on his birthday in Cartagena and to be honest we are quite content relaxing on a beach for a few days. On our last evening we go to 'El Garaje' and dance lots of salsa! 

Drinks overlooking the ocean 

Feeling healthy and fitter than when I arrived, we get the bus back to Cartagena, passing through Santa Marta once more. There are more horses/mules/donkeys and carts on the roads in Colombia than I have seen anywhere else in the world, we pass literally hundreds on the road back to Cartagena. Colombians don't seem to care so much for feeding their animals - here I have seen some of the skinniest creatures. We spoke to some guys who tried to feed the skin-and-bone dogs after dinner in Taganga, but the hounds didn't even give the meat a sniff, walking away with their tails between their legs. Someone suggested that all the dogs here are appetite-less cocaine addicts. Maybe. In this country, nothing is how one might expect. 

Bienvenidos a Cartagena de Indias (pt.1)

It is a fairly hefty bus ride from Medellin up to Cartagena, 13 hours or so. On route we have the worst meal consumed in South America - fish soup with eyes and bones followed by a chicken-wing with the consistency of concrete. We [Helene, Marie, Mauricio, James & I] arrive late and Luis, the night receptionist isn't sure whether they have beds for us. We sleepily grab a sandwich across the road, return and after some rearranging we have somewhere to rest our weary heads. We have a rather goose-pimpled night of sleep as the fierce AC blasts around the room. We are staying at North Star Backpackers hostel in Bocagrande.

North Star backpackers hostel

Bocagrande (meaning 'big mouth') is the most modern and one of the wealthiest areas of the city, a good place to be based. The next morning we take a stroll around - the streets are attractive and the area is laden with restaurants, bars, shops and coffee-shops. We are also right beside a beach (but it is not the nicest beach around).

Bocagrande

I have given North Star's address to Fed-Ex with the hope that they will manage to transport my new bank cards from my Mum's kitchen table in Ireland to Cartagena. One of my debit cards has been 'accidentally' cancelled by HSBC, and by 'back-up' card does not work in Columbia! Luckily my trusty friends are ensuring that I don't starve or go without a bed ;-)

After a quick stroll around we get a boat to Playa Blanca (a much nicer beach, 40 minutes by boat). It takes a long time to organise the boat. At one point we have about 10 guys each trying to drag us on their boat! We walk away many times, visit both harbours and eventually find a decent looking boat at the price we want...it is a bumpy ride across to Playa Blanca but we seem to be in capable hands.

Our chosen driver

I have not seen the sea since Ushuaia, the southern tip of Argentina - I have travelled from toe to tip of the continent!

Marie enjoys the boat trip between bumps!

It really is a beautiful beach. The water is clear, turquoise and the sand is white. The (only) bad element is the hawkers, who harass at every opportunity - selling all kinds of junk. We get an amazing massage, and have a lovely few hours relaxing.

I have arrived in paradise, at last!

Playa Blanca

We relax until James gets talking to a group of Colombians who invite us over for a chat and entertainment. After a beer and a few shots of rum, James and I are singing Irish songs (from Christy Moore to Van Morrison) and organising a céilidh (Irish dance session). Within minutes there are about 20 Colombians dancing the 'Walls of Limerick' under the blistering sun! Time to swap around, it's time for us to practice our salsa and reggaeton. Those of you familiar with reggaeton dancing can imagine how hilarious (ridiculous) we look! We keep dancing until our boat captain calls us aboard. It is an even bumpier ride back to Bocagrande now that the wind has picked up (and we have the bruises to show later!).

Colombia meets Ireland in a dance-off!!

We have an delicious dinner in an Argentine steakhouse - bringing back many happy memories from January. Back to the hostel, we relax on the terrace at the hostel until Pedro, the owner, invites us to a place called Donde Fidel, a salsa bar in the Old City.

Mauricio & Helene relaxing at North Star

Sitting outside amidst the beautiful buildings is fantastic - I instantly fall in love with the place - charming, beautiful and embedded in history. Continuing with the dancing theme, I get some lessons in salsa and rumba from Pedro. At first, I feel self-conscious in front of all the locals but after a few words of encouragement I let go! Later our ever-increasing group wander to Tu Candela, a nearby club. Here in Columbia the club-culture is very different; people go our in couples and dance with their partners - salsa, merengue, rumba or what ever takes their fancy. Despite this couple structure, eyes wander and comments are whispered. From what I gather neither the men or the women are faithful. Girls rarely go out alone (unless they are prostitutes - whom are equally abundant as the drug dealers in this city). It is a fun place, the music is good. The after-party continues back at the hostel until the wee-small hours. Which is all well and good until I realise I have an hour until my bus leaves for Taganga - a fishing town further along the Caribbean coast. Sensibly the Norwegians went to bed before midnight, and are looking fresh as daisies! Never mind, the bus has air-conditioning and my seat is comfortable so I put on my sunglasses and prepare for a four-hour snooze.

Semana Santa, Medellín

Nothing too eventful happens. The city is quiet, most people have escaped to the countryside for the Easter holiday. Medellín is a big city. I stay at Tiger Paw hostel, beside restaurants, bars, the Metro station and Blue - a great rock club. I meet an Irish guy there, James from Kilarney, and we discover that we share mutual close-friends in Sligo. We (Helene, Marie, Mauri, Canada & James) sit in the park and drink Aquardiente (Raki-esque) in chupas - like the locals. We visit the Botero exhibition and sculptures in the park. We go to a dodgy looking Salsa bar downtown where people are searched for weapons, the men look like gangsters and the women look like (are?) prostitutes. They love music here and dance well. It seems the women are big fans of the colour pink (from candyfloss to raspberry) and tight (spray-on) clothing. The taxis are yellow, driving skills are minimal. I feel very safe here. On Easter Sunday I get a haircut and buy a new dress. I want to go and see a religious parade but it rains so I watch movies on a big plasma. I finish a book. We go to the famous club called Mangos where everyone wears cowboy-dress, there is sawdust on the floor and dwarfs dancing on the stage. In the bathrooms, stuffed horses' heads spray water for hand-washing. A girl tells me I need colour in my cheeks and covers me in rouge. The Macarena and Tweety-bird songs are played at 2am. We dance and leave, never to return or recommend. In most bars it is custom to buy a bottle of rum or whisky for the table, where everyone shares rather than buy individual drinks. People are friendly and attractive - voluptuous, sexy, charming. It rains every day and some nights. We discover the gem of a food-chain that is Crepes and Waffles - why has this not been snapped up in Europe? We try to take a cable car but it is broken. There are slum-areas and posh areas. I don't feel like taking photos. I read about Pablo Escobar, the famous criminal from Medellín. On the last night we meet up with Adam. It is really great to see him after a few weeks. 

From L-R: James, Adam, me & Canada

Next morning, myself & the Norwegians leave and take a 14-hour bus to Cartagena. My mind is preoccupied with excitement about being beside the sea. I'm sick of rain and inland places. Colombian chocolate tastes nice. 

Coffee

We follow the instructions and take three buses from Manizales in the search of coffee. We make our way to Chinchina and ask to be dropped off at the church, where we hope to find another bus.

The church, the bus 

Chinchina

Then, onwards to Guayabal where "La Hacienda Guayabal" is situated. It is quite amusing to be dropped off in the middle of seemingly 'nowhere', without any signposts. There is only one path so we follow it.

The path

The church, which I initially think is a cattle corral

A local man & his birds

We following the path through a small community of houses and birds, climbing a hill and eventually arriving at the main building of the plantation site. All buildings are made from guadua, Colombian bamboo.

Perhaps it's that building up there?

Coffee fields 

Steep hills

We have a delicious meal, chat to the other people visiting and Diana, our guide, begins the tour. The location is beautiful, so green and hilly. Lots of fresh air, trees and pretty flowers.

Diana, our guide who speaks perfect English

We learn that Chinchina generally provides excellent weather conditions for growing coffee due to the micro-climate in the valley. The average temperature here is 21 degrees, which is ideal for coffee-growing. However in the past couple of years there has been heavier rainfall meaning less coffee production (in fact the last few weeks have been the worst for a decade and there is much evidence of damage from storms). Many farms have had to diversify their offerings in order to stay in business. At Guayabal, they have opted to open their plantation for tourists. On the day we visit, there are four other guests. The hacienda is well kitted out - with excellent lunch and tours in English or Spanish. So I imagine as tourism grows in Columbia, so too will the number of visitors to the plantation.

Here the farm employ workers to engage in manual-selective picking, rather than use machinery (as in Brazil). They say Colombian coffee is the smoothest in the world - with Germany, USA and Japan purchasing the bulk of the exported coffee. 

Fruits: guava, soursop, orange, lemon, tangerine, pineapple, macadamia, chontaduro, raspberry, mango & banana. 

Flowers: tropical flowers mainly heliconia like bird of paradise, ginger orchids, roses.

Bird of Paradise grow all over the farm

Red bananas, have hallucinogenic properties when eaten apparently

Stages in the Process of Coffee Production

1. Seedbed and seedling

2. Pruning and pest management (mainly the Coffee Berry Borer "drill"), wasp, fungus and re-re

Juan Jose, who has worked at the plantation all his life

Where the workers stay and eat

3. Coffee in production: 2 years for its first harvest (5 years in production, 3 cycles of 7 years)

The hills are so steep, this is difficult labour

'Cherries'

Path through the coffee fields

Helene, listening intently to Diana

4. Washing process (benedicio): coffee is gathered together, weighed and send to the de-pulper machine and then the mucilage is removed. 

It is washed and classified in the water. Pasilla (low quality coffee) floats - this is what is used to make instant coffee. Coffee is sent to the dried process in the silo.

Pasila (used for instant coffee)

Where all the beans are put to begin the washing process
The beans are put through these tubes
and these tubes

The bad ones float

5. Drying proces: coffee is dried, first in a pre-drying process and then the drying process itself. Maximum temperature 60 degrees. Final humidity between 9% and 12%. Coffee is sold out of the farm by kg.

These bags are made from natural fibres found in a local plant (like hemp)

6. Threshing: husk is removed from the coffee bean. To export coffee is classified by size with meshes. Big beans belong to higher meshes or supreme coffee. Colour and weightof beans are also selected. Then coffee is exported.

7. In every country coffee is blended and roasted. Roasting average temperature is 19-200 degrees during 15-20 minutes.

8. Finally, we can grind and brew our coffee to taste a very fresh cup of coffee, the best from Columbia! The coffee is delicious, very strong but the smell is amazing! The tour is informative, and Diana teaches us about selecting good coffee at home which is useful.

The main building at the plantation, with bounding dog & elbow

Clucks

Roasting the dried beans

Freshly roasted coffee beans

At last it's time to taste

The family pet, Polly

Certified!

The owner of the plantation gives us a lift to Chinchina, and we bus back to the city. In the morning, we take the bus to Medellin. The trip is well worth the three buses worth of travel.

Tennis

The Norwegians arrive to Bogotá and bring the sunshine with them. We visit the National Museum (no English translations) and try some local maize cakes with banana and cheese for brunch. In the evening we visit the Zona Rosa for sushi, something I haven't had for a while. This southern neighbourhood is another world compared to La Candelaria - full of wealth and glamour. There are fabulous restaurants, bars and shopping centres. Walking around here you could be in any European or American capital city. Like Buenos Aires, the women are glamorous and extremely well-groomed. Here they say 'There is no such thing as an ugly woman, only a poor husband' - if something is not right, they fix it with surgery. All the women seem to wear high heels at all times, even for breakfast. The following morning Marie sets off to Medellín to meet her friend. Helene and I return to the Zona Rosa for some pampering and retail-therapy. The shops are incredible, with every brand you find on Oxford Street in London. Most of the shops are too expensive for our budget. However, we find a brand called Tennis which suits all our requirements and we update our backpack wardrobe, which was becoming rather tired! Afterwards we treat ourselves to a manicure and pedicure, followed by a glass of red-wine on a terrace, the perfect place to people-watch. Adam has changed his plans and so is staying with a friend outside of Bogotá, we will reunite at some stage further north. In the morning, we take a 9-hour bus to Manizales, capital city of the Zona Cafetera. Helene accurately notes that the drivers 'doesn't know clutch'. We feel sick for the entire journey as we jerk and swerve around the constantly winding roads. For some reason we imagine Manizales as a 2-road town in the country. Not quite the 500 million populated, busy city that we are greeted with! The bus station is crazy. One man shouts at us 'be careful with your bags'. It takes us a while to find a taxi. When we do he is also crazy. Surely he is high on something? He pumps hardcore techno music at full volume and drives at ridiculous speed through the city. I turn to Helene and say; 'we will be lucky if we survive this journey'. After a bit of a palava trying to find 'Mountain House' (we attempt to pronounce with our best Colombian accent). I cannot understand anything the taxi driver says. In fact, I cannot understand a word any Colombian says - do they swallow words or simply invent new ones? The hostel is lovely, we chat to the staff and make a plan to visit a coffee farm in the morning. Three buses we will need to take....aargh so much for a 2-street town, this sounds like a mega-mission!

Arrival to 'Boggers', Columbia

I fly to Bogotá, Columbia with a two-hour interchange at Lima, Peru. We fly directly through the lightening storm that has grasped the city, lighting up the dark aisles inside the plane. The storm continues while I collect my luggage, change some money and look for a legitimate taxi. Admittedly, as a lone female, is it not ideal arriving to Columbia at 3.30am. I hate arriving to new places at night. Even the most beautiful places look ugly and unappealing under the shadows. I am aware of this, and try to be optimistic as my taxi driver speeds through the dodgy-looking and mostly deserted streets. Many of the roads are flooded. I do not know a great deal about Colombian weather, but this certainly is not what I had imagined! Twenty minutes into the journey and the taxi driver informs me that he does not know where the Platypus hostel is. Hmph, I am tired, grumpy and want to go to bed. I grab the map and scribbled-down address from my backpack, and bark directions towards what I hope is the correct street. Luckily it is. We drive the length of Calle 16 and do a U-turn back to the hostel, he informs me that he wants to ensure there are no dangerous folk lurking nearby. He asks me to stay in the car until he rings the bell and ensures that the door is open. Rather a sweet gesture, but I am a little alarmed. I trundle inside, and someone leads me to my private room. I have splashed out, I cannot face a dorm-room tonight. I do not sleep well. The rain thumps on the roof above and the staff and fellow guests begin to clatter outside my door at 7am. 

I enjoy the luxury of having my own room. This sounds absurd until I tell you that I have not stayed in my own room since the 27th December, the day I left Sligo! In delight, I scatter my belongings all over the floor and double bed (extra bonus!). Oh yes, what luxury it is to be a messy pup for a few days! I decide to stay in my pajamas until lunchtime, surfing the net (WI-FI!) and reading a (trashy) novel. 

When I cannot muffle the sounds of my grumbling stomach any longer I get ready and go out. The hostel is described as 'maybe the best hostel in South America' on the Internet. I am not convinced, it is cold (no heating) and my room does not have any natural light, but I shall refrain from complaining - there is free coffee! The hostel is located in La Candelaria which is an area filled with old streets and colonial buildings, a good place to be but not safe at night apparently.

The street where I live

My front door

I wander down Avenida Jimenez, find a coffee shop and start to get acquainted with the guidebook. I decide to visit the Gold Museum (Museo de Oro) nearby. I feel pretty safe walking around during the day, most people seem to be busily rushing around their daily lives. There are lots of homeless people, including one entire family sitting on the street with what seems to be their pet rabbit. There are many street performances with jugglers, musicians and acrobats, and one man with 10 guinea pigs who tries to align them into some kind of order for a race! There is a square nearby where hundreds of men stand around chatting. I don't understand what they are doing. Most people have dark hair and seem to wear black, I illuminate the streets with my golden locks and red jacket. 

Museo de Oro 

I cannot rave enough about how great this museum is. It is clearly laid-out, in a spacious building. The galleries and descriptions are informative without being laborious, in both Spanish and English. The collection of gold artefacts and jewelery are beautiful, and there is a superb video of the various metal-working techniques used in pre-Hispanic Columbia. There are some rooms which discuss cosmology, symbolism and what is know as 'The Offering' (religious art). Throw a decent dollop of social and cultural (my favourite!) history to the measure, and what you have is a very user-friendly and interesting museum.

Gallery of gold artefacts

Symbolic creature used for ceremonies

For the next couple of days, I keep myself to myself. I am feeling a little reclusive, enjoying some time by myself. The bad weather continues so I spend my time visiting galleries, sitting in coffee shops and browsing bookshops. The nights are cold and I am glad of my llama jumper and alpaca scarf! 

Donación Botero Museum

Here I view a collection of the Colombian figurative artist, Fernando Botero. Some of his painters are familiar to me, from somewhere or other (his work is fairly unforgettable). He focuses mainly on portraiture of obese characters with disproportionate body parts. His paintings make me smile. When asked about why he uses obese figures in his sculpture and paintings. He replies: "An artist is attracted to certain kinds of form without knowing why. You adopt a position intuitively; only later do you attempt to rationalize or even justify it."

Una Familia (1989)

Bath

Mona Lisa (1977)

Also, inside this gallery there is Botero's own donated sculptures and paintings, including Picasso, Miró, Dalí, Monet. As the guidebook says, 'well worth a visit'.  And it's free!

Biblioteca Luis Angel Arango

I take a quick snoop around this fine library, which also contains three reading rooms, art galleries and a concert hall. 

Casa de la Moneda

The building and courtyard are really charming (dates back to 1620 when Felipe III of Spain ordered it's construction).  This was the first mint in the country to produce gold coins. 

There is also a collection of Colombian and European art (including quite a few colonial pieces).  I get a little annoyed when one of the female security guards yells at me to stand back from the painting, and thus proceeds to follow me around for the next 10 minutes. Many of the rooms are empty, just each security guard and myself. Some of the male guards want to chat. First question tends to be around what my impression of their country is, second question - am I married?....

On the subject of talking to strangers. There appears to be disproportionately more men in this city than women. Some of the women I have had interactions with have been rather cold and unfriendly (e.g. at the airport, security at the gallery, women at the hostel). Perhaps it is just those women in 'positions of power'?! Anyway, the men have been friendly - in coffee shops giving me free tea and biscuits, in the gallery offering to give me a personal guided tour, and on the plane offering to show me around the city. I decline all offers but the tea and biscuits. The men here tell me it is not in their culture for women to wander around alone. I ignore them, and enjoy my solitude. 

Anyway, back to the gallery. The nugget of excitement for me is held within the temporary collection where there is a fantastic collection of photographs and newspaper articles by René Burri, the Swiss photographer - entitled 'Un Mundo'. He is known for his photos of major political, historical and cultural events and key figures of the second half of the 20th century. The exhibition displays photographs of political, military and artistic figures and scenes since the beginning of his career in 1946. The most famous of which are portraits of Che Guevara and Pablo Picasso as well as pictures of São Paulo and Brasília. 

Che Guevara (looking incredibly handsome)

Pablo Picasso

Plaza Bolivar

Packed with pigeons so naturally I don't like it (birds are my foe). Also, there seems to be a bundle of people camping out there - what are they doing? There are some beautiful old buildings here. 

Old & new buildings stand side by side

Museo de Arte Moderno (MAMBO)

A bit of a trek in the opposite direction, in an area know as Downtown Bogotá, there is the modern art gallery. Here you have to pay, and there are two exhibitons. One which I have forgotten already, the other named "300% Spanish Design" which is a fairly interesting collection of chairs, posters (for me, the most interesting section) and lamps from Spanish designers. Picasso, Miró, Dalí feature here too. Spanish guitar music is played downstairs. 

Posters are worth a gander

Afterwards, I visit the Parque de la Independencia, and have a coffee in the cafe attached to the Planetarium. I consider popping into the Planetarium...until I see the hoards of noisy children queueing to get inside.

Back at the hostal, it is time to change rooms - the Norwegians are arriving late tonight. Our three-bed room is vastly nicer that my private one. There is lots of natural light, a nice view and a private bathroom. I am feeling more sociable today, relaxing in the communal areas and chatting to other travellers. Tomorrow, Adam will arrive - no more peace and quiet for me! ;-)

View from my new room

Much love in La Paz

There is nothing like spending a week with two adorable children (and their equally adorable parents), 1 Labrador, 2 kittens, 1 cat and 1 poochy-puppy to boast one's self-esteem and give one a large dose of warm and unconditional love. So when Sarah's friend from university, Emma, suggests that we come and stay, naturally I jump at the opportunity.

Still bearing the scars from St.Patrick's Day (dodgy 'face' paint) when I arrive at Emma's

Living where they do, doing what they do
A Bolivian man and an English girl fell madly in love, produced two healthy, beautiful children and now live on the edge of a cliff in a mountainous valley on the outskirts of La Paz, devoting their professional lives to making Bolivia a fairer, more equitable society. They do not live behind high security walls, preferring to integrate with the local (mainly indigenous) community. Rolando is Head of Social Services for the country and Emma, leads Christian Aid in Bolivia. They are two of  the most passionate and inspirational people I have ever met. They are living their dreams, remain in love and believe in power of positive action in the face of poverty and corruption. This is a challenging environment to live and raise children, but the children are obviously thriving. There is never a dull moment for this couple between early morning meetings with the President, Evo Morales, the Mayor's birthday party on Saturday and Sunday lunch with the Ambassador. At home, the family are supported with some home-help and a large friend-network. Viviana, does a fantastic job of keeping everything ticking along nicely and ensuring that everyday we all eat a nutritious, freshly cooked meal. The kids are adorable, but to protect their privacy I won't put pictures on here.

Looking back over La Paz on the drive to Emma's

The residence

Emma & Rolando

Gifts from the Fairy Godmother are handed out

The Fairy Godmother herself

When I arrive I am informed that there are already 2 Elaine's in the house!

Fooobie Rooney

Chilling with Mom

Waking up is easy with a view like this (don't even have to get out of bed to enjoy!)

Breakfast on the balcony, my favourite part of the day

The view of the valley below

Viviana keeping everyone clean, fed & watered

Rafiki, who I fall in love with

and last but not least, this little barrel of laughs - Pooch (Vivi's pup)

Poochy-cuddles every morning

Sarah & I at El Pueblo Viejo, Zona Sur

Meanwhile, Ireland have won the Grand Slam for the first time in 61 years in a sensational climax to this year's 6 Nation's Cup!! Wohooo, at last some good news on the evening news!

Gorgeous Brian O'Driscoll with the convention prize for the winning team (see sheep story below!)

Valley of the Moon (Valle de la Luna)
Situated a short drive from the Zona Sur, this landscape is how I imagine a lunar landscape might look like, and presumably those who named the valley imagined likewise. We go early morning to avoid some of the overbearing rays of the sun. It is incredible to imagine the formation of these jagged volcanic rocks over many thousands of years. Afterwards a charming elderly man plays haunting melodies on his charanga (small guitar) and then flute.

Walking through the Valley of the Moon

 A good place for hide-and-go-seek!

The Devil's Molar
There is a predominent peak in the south of La Paz that dominates the skyline, known as 'The Devil's Molar'. On Sunday, which also happens to be Mother's Day at home, we climb to get a better look.

The Devil's Molar

Rafiki and I relaxing, post-picnic

Rafiki!

A close-up

This walk reminds me of walking the green mountains of home

Looking back onto the valley where Emma lives (not so green!)

Mallasa 
After our walk in the morning, we have a delicious Sunday lunch at the Oberland Hotel (Swiss-owned, environmentally conscientious) in Mallasa, a small town 15 km south of the city. We are introduced to some of the family's friends, including some other Europeans who live here permanently. Given the occassion, we do a Round-Robin of the table each stating our Mother's names and raising a glass in her honour. Lots of love to my Mum in Sligo, Ireland xxx

Sampling the local brew, Saya (Gill from Ram Jam nextdoor)

After lunch it is time to go to the local football tournament in Mallasa where Rolando and Emma have been asked to donate a medium-sized sheep to the winning team. Sarah and I find this highly amusing! Certainly a more practical prize that a trophy....

Dolly

Valley of the Moon Children's Centre, Mallasa
Valley of the Moon Children´s Centre in Mallasa was originally set up by Emma 5 years ago with the money from an anonymous Mancunian donation. It is now a flourishing children's centre completely run and managed by local women caring for 87 children, aged 6 months to 6 years, from poor and vulnerable families from mainly indigenous families on the outskirts of La Paz.

The Centre is an incredibly special place, and has become a model for community based pre- school education in La Paz, providing services that respect and promote the rights and culture of children. It also provides integral services to support the children's families in the community by providing training to the mums who are looking for work, many of them who are single and particularly vulnerable and poor. 

I am amazed by how friendly and happy the children are - they call Sarah and I 'Tia' which means 'Auntie'.  The organisation and cleanliness of the centre is outstanding - you could eat your dinner off the floor! Emma's vision, and the local women's ability to put the vision into practice is inspirational and gives me hope that things can get better. These poorer families have the same right to high-standards of education and care as anyone else.

Unfortunately, the centre is somewhat a victim of its own success, in the sense that investors overlook the centre for funding because it appears to being doing so well. In fact, the centre is struggling for money - forcing the local women to think of creative ways to stretch each Bolivano. Many of the toys and muscial instruments are made from recycled materials (even llama toe-nails are used to make a shaker!). 

Click here on link to go to the Centre's webpage http://boliviavalleymoonchildren.or and please support if you can. All money goes directly to the Centre - unlike most charities there are no administration costs. The money will go right to where it is needed and you will see the progress and get reports about how the centre is growing via this web page. 

The playground (spot the Devil's Molar in the background?)

The education centre - all of which was designed and purpose-built by the local Mothers

These little cuties sing their favourite song for us

Moi, looking rather Mother Theresa-esque!

Shopping in La Paz

Emma takes a couple of days off work, so we take the opportunity to go on a shopping trip in the centre of La Paz. I have been here before, but what a difference it makes to have a local guide! Emma knows where to get the best quality goods for fair prices, introducing us to fair-trade galleries and antique shops laden with exquisite fair (the contents of colonial homes presumambly). The highlight of the day is when a group of school boys shout 'Spice Girls' at us! 

Ginger Spice, Baby Spice......

and here's Posh!

Emma bargains for a new rug

Afterwards we meet friends & neighbours for lunch at Star of India

Mamani Mamani 
Mamani Mamani is a colourful indigenous artist in Bolivia. He is the first successful indigenous artist to have acclaimed such success - his art has been exhibited around the world, including shows in Washington, D.C., Tokyo, Munich, and London. His paintings draw upon his Aymaran heritage, and include colorfully stylized images of indigenous mothers, condors, suns, and moons, among other themes. The use of strong vibrant colors is similar to the colors featured in the traditional hand-made blankets that are widely used by the indigenous people of the Bolivian Altiplano. His use of indigenous symbols is especially significant in the South American context where indigenous cultures have been viewed as inferior to European culture. First, we visit the permanent collection and shop at San Miguel, later we visit his most recent work at the National Museum of Art. His work will not suit every living room, but I enjoy much of his work - especially the earlier pieces where mothers and babies are a reccurring theme. Paintings are not cheap, with the smallest selling for $500 USD.

Permananent gallery & shop, San Miguel

This little monster points out her favourite pieces!

Films a-plenty!

One thing I have missed whilst travelling has been watching movies and going to cinema on a regular basis. So I make up for lost ground, watching the following: Slumdog Millionaire, The Secret Life of Bees, The Reader, Love in the Time of Cholera, Marley and me, Amores Perros, Vicky Christina Barcelona, and August Rush.....enjoying every single one! And whoa the joy of being able to sit on a comfy sofa and watch the evening news with kitten/pup curled-up on my lap!

Observations around the city
La Paz is undeniably a crazy city. I am forever in a state of awe here! The alititude (3,660 m), the backdrop of the snow-capped Illimani mountain (guardian of La Paz) and the seemingly treachorous way that houses are built into the side of the valley. A walk around La Paz certainly leaves me breathless, every street is a hill and on every hill there is a thick black smog trailing after the last 'Micro' bus that has chugged by. 

A quiet street in La Paz

There are street-kids dressed up as zebras to help people to cross the road. There are men wearning balaclavas and hoods sitting on every corner, polishing the shoes of suited-businessmen. They hide their faces because the work is seen as the lowest of the low. Progress is being made and now all the guys belong to a network, publish their own newspaper and go to school in the afternoon. Often around the city the statues and monuments will have a balaclava covering the hero, the calling card of the shoe-shiners network! 

Shoe-shiner clad with scary balaclava

Emmersed in fruit and vegtables

Chulita Lady dressed in traditional dress

Emma tells us that children are beginning to be christened some rather unusual names such as Microsoft and Madeinusa (i.e. Made in USA) here.  Swearing in Bolivia is not adhered to, and there is no such thing as 'toilet-humour'! On the whole, Bolivians on the whole are reserved and gentle. However, there has been an increase in crime over the past 5 years, and many of Emma's friends have been mugged.

South of the chaos and colour of the centre is the Zona Sur and San Miguel, where there is a 2x2 mile suburb where the wealth of La Paz is concentrated. Hollywood mansions are the norm, surrounded by high rise walls for protection and private security guards standing outside each gate. Glamorous 'yummy-mummies' zoom around in their slick new SUVs or Ferraris. Coffee-shop culture prevails and there are boutiques selling imported clothes everywhere. We are told that the middle class and 'beautiful' tend to go to certain clubs, rarely in the city centre where the backpackers hangout. In fact, the general view of backpackers and the so-called 'high-budget, adventure travellers" tends to be negative, despite the money they bring to the city. Many locals are oblivious to the fact the tourists visit San Pedro prison. There are lots of pampered dogs with fitted jackets, and as one drives out of the Zona Sur, the streets are named after drinks e.g. Calle Capari. 

Here is the place of passionate Latin love affairs, where the drama is equivalent of an episode of Desperate Housewives. Sarah and I pick the children up from their American school where there are yet more glamorous, designer 'Moms' and teachers who could easily be mistaken for students.

For a trial-period, Sarah and I become the 'ladies-who-lunch', drinking expresso by day and sipping on Chuflay (Singani & ginger ale) by night. 

Ladies who lunch - eating llama carpaccio!

The vast extremes of wealth and poverty make me feel guilty. My fingers are crossed that Evo Morales and people like Rolando and Emma continue to lead positive change. Bolivia is, afterall, a weathy country with vast oil reserves and natural resources - at the moment that wealth is benefitting very few. 

Staying with Emma and spending time with Sarah has been one of the highlights (yes, I know there have been many!) of my trip so far. 

Lady Sarah G of England, as she became known!

Lady Irish

I think the timing has been perfect, I had not realised how exhausted I was! Sharing rooms every night in often noisy hostels does not assist with peaceful sleeping. Meeting new people everyday and queueing for the bathroom is exhausting. Not checking for bedbugs, having a hairdryer/mirror and being confident in the fact that I will not wake up to some weirdo who is trying to take a photograph of me while I sleep... are all things I used to take for granted! I'm laughing, I'm not complaining - I have been having a wonderful time travelling - all I'm saying is I know how to appreciate a few home comforts and giant bear hugs when offered from chocolate-covered paws or tiny fingers! 

The weather has been gloriously sunny every day, and we have made good-use of the balcony over looking the mountains. I feel entirely relaxed, full of the vitamins and minerals of a well-balanced diet and well-rested. On the day of my departure, Bolivia beat Argentina 6:1 in a football game! Yay!

Cheering for Bolivia, whilst assisting with the homework!

I find it hard to say goodbye to Sarah and the family, but it is time to move North now - I have been in Bolivia for a month already and time is passing quickly. Having spent a month in Peru five years ago, I am making the decision not to return during this trip. Instead I am flying to Bogota, Columbia where I will spend some days visiting the plentiful galleries and museums before rejoining with Adam, Helene and Marie (the Norwegians).

Things that go bump in the (jungle) night, Rurrenabaque

Bags packed with our jungle essentials & bottles of Deet poking out of every crevice, Sarah and I set off to El Alto airport with the hope of getting our 8.40am flight to Rurrenabaque. Heavy rainfall means our flight is delayed! This is not such a big deal, there is an 'oxygen enriched' cafe and good Internet connection so we catch-up with each other's lives over the past three months and with our emails. 

Flying to Rurrenabaque tends to be a gamble due to ever changing weather patterns and the grassy runway upon arrival. As the rain pounds down on the airport roof, we spend the day wondering whether we will have to do a U-turn back to Emma's (our friend with whom we have been staying).  

At 6pm our rather plastic-looking plane takes off. The views provide a welcome distraction from

 the fact that our 'co-pilot' appears to be a little clueless when it comes to responsible flying. I cannot help but notice the more senior pilot making extravagant hand gestures and lipping 'NOOOOOO!' after various  buttons have been pressed. Powerless, I focus my energy on the silver-lined clouds outside. 

In every cloud.....

A seat with a view

Toy Plane

We land on the grassy run-way of Rurrenabaque, and disembark onto the luscious green, leafy landscape of Rurrenabaque which is smothered in a blanket of humidity and steam. What a vast contrast! The landscape and the laid-back, smiling community are so far removed from the hub of La Paz.

"Runway"

First glimpses of Rurrenabaque

Beni River, Rurrenabaque

Back at sea-level, finally I fill my lungs to their full capacity, no longer fighting for breath as I climb a short flight of stairs.

Ivan (E-ban), our guide from Chalalán Lodge, greets us at the airport and together we travel in the community bus into the centre of town. Quick stop at the Chalalán office to learn our itinerary for the coming days, and then we check into the Hotel Oriental. 

Local Limousine

Main Square, 'Rurre'

The bustling main street!

The perfect place to buy a pink Lycra mini-dress or a giant purple plastic shark!

Unlike the rest of Bolivia, motorbikes are the transportation of choice here

Hotel Oriental

Pooch from the Hotel

A cold, refreshing shower revives us and our eager legs walk to the Mosquito Bar (which we have heard so much about from Emma!) for some Jungle Juice and Pampas Punch during 'Happy Hour'! We have a lovely Mexican meal in Camila's, and return later for more Mosquito Bar fun. We meet some nice Israelis and have a very enjoyable evening playing pool and admiring the stars! We do not get quite as much sleep as Ivan recommended!

At 7am we make our way to the pier, as promised. This morning we shall travel for 5 hours in a small boat with an outboard engine. Our skipper's name is Darwin - what a fantastic name!

Anke, a Northern German girl, is part of our group of three. She has got a big camera. The rain lashes down upon us within minutes of commencing the trip, and does not cease until we arrive at our destination hours later! Luckily, there is a little boy on the side of the bank who supplies us with heavy-duty ponchos. 

Get the oilskins out quick!

Practical, not glamorous

Low hanging clouds

Speeding along the brown liquid

Aboard we are fed with a delicious meal of steak, egg, rice and banana (locally known as 'bistec a la pobre'), delcious! Sarah and I doze, giggling about this and that. Between snoozes, we get some first glimpses of the local wildlife.

Caiman Crocodilus having a morning nap

(Mummy) Capibara with babies

Black vultures

We swoosh along the currents of the Tuchi River (literally meaning 'ugly river' in Quechua) until we arrive at the embarkation bank and trek two kilometres to the lodge. 

Hiking from the river bank to the lodge

Shelter under the vast canopies of green leaves

Chalalán Ecolodge, Madidi National Park

Chalalán ecolodge blends in with the natural environment, using old building techniques and local, environmentally-friendly materials. The lodge is entirely owned and run by a local community, San José de Uchupiamonas. At any given time there are 11 people directly employed at the lodge, but many more benefit indirectly (local weavers and jewelery-makers whose produce is available to buy at the lodge). Within the community, the 'general workers' and kitchen staff are rotated on a three-monthly basis. The money earned from the lodge is filtered back in to the comunity with the aim of benefitting all, including the sick and elderly.

All staff are from the San José indigenous community

The lodge is situated alongside the magnificent Chalalán lagoon, surrounded by the immaculate rainforest of the Madidi park. In between the cabins there is a beautiful orchard with lemon, grapefruit and lime trees. 

The cabin

Our cabin is simple and clean; two beds with princess-style mosquito-nets and our own private bathroom.The walls are made from the Copa Palm (Iriartea Deltoidea) and covered with matting. The roofs are woven with asaí palm leaves (Geonoma Deversa) and the floors are made of fine hardwood. 

Traditional style-lodge (apparently the roof will last 25 years)

The local wasp 'community hall'

Limonade on a tree

Our protection against Fugly Buglies (as they became known)

We get used to sharing our cabin

There really is a concerted effort to have as little negative impact on the environment as possible. For example, solid waste is separated with organic waste going to a compost heap and inorganic waste is collected by the Rurrenabaque municipal refuse collection service. Solar energy is used to light the bedrooms and common areas of the Ecolodge using batteries only for torches and keeping the use of fossil fuels to a minimum. Water is purified by being treated with special filters. It is also boiled and stored in closed containers to later be used to prepare drinks and food.

Ivan informs that lunch is served immediately - we exclaim in shock, still full from our nutrious lunch two hours earlier! Once Maria (the boss in the kitchen) starts producing a spectacular, three-course meal feast.....well, we just cannot resist. Afterwards, we are good for little else than a two-hour siesta. Later we roam down to the lake for a canoe trip in search of monkeys.

Chalalán Lagoon

Ivan, our guide

Sarah, all the way from England
Four other guests in search of wildlife

 A non-censored photo, especially for Samuel

First glimpse of some Red Howler Monkeys, the laziest monkey of the jungle!

Getting dark, time to return to the lodge

The monkeys begin to look for a bed for the night

Then it is dinner time, another three course meal! The food is delicious, healthy and freshly-produced in the kitchen. 

Then it is time for a night-walk in search of tartulas.....and other fugly buglies.

Golden Cill Spider

Giant Hunting Ant

Another bugly, name unknown
Official name, Tree Pricklius

After 15 minutes of walking - bingo! Look at this beautiful lady! 

Lady Tarantula

Tarantula boudouir

Ivan spots her initially, and shines his torch which makes her retract inside the tree. So he picks up a stick, puts some of his own saliva on the tip and rests it outside her boudouir....and sure enough our she strolls to have a look around and decipher who is lurking around her den. She takes a good look around, flaunts her beauty, and ambles back inside to bed. Soon afterwards, we do likewise.

Next morning, with a spring in our step, we are ready for a 6-hour trek through the jungle. There are mosquitos and it is humid, but is nowhere near as unbearable as I remember the Amazonian jungle in Iquitos, northern Peru. It is a very successful walk, and we see many creatures and plantlife whom are resident here.

Watch your step!

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the 'one less traveled' by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost 

I love how the light sparkles on the damp leaves

We don't spot the big branch cutting the picture in half!

Red roots to discourage wild pigs from having a nibble

Ficus Estrangulador

Beso de Novio (meaning: Kiss from Lover)

Jungle Orchid plant

Dormant termite nest

Martian walkie-talkie system linking to Earth

The cleanliness and purity of air and terrain is incredible

Hangin' around

Funky Fungus

A very vibrant of butterfly (mariposa)

We are incredibly lucky to see a Toucan (notoriously difficult to see)

A fresh jaguar footprint (20 minutes old!)

Garden spider

Beautiful root formations

Monkey Ladders

Almond tree

Known locally as a 'Barrel' tree

Later, we rest and read. We cannot understand why we are so tired, but later we learn that often when one has been at altitude for some time and suddenly drop down to sea-level, it is quite common to become lethargic. After our rest, we spend more time canoeing on the lake. This is such a peaceful and special place, I feel entirely relaxed. Tonight we are in bed by 8.30pm, and I am asleep by 8.32pm after reading one page of my book! 

On our last day, the rain batters down upon the roof. It has not stopped for about 12 hours! Everywhere is mucky and swampy. The rain eventually calms and we set off for a three-hour walk in another direction. 

Known locally as the 'tree with many legs'

Wasp nests

Can you spot the red-fire ants?

A very soggy jungle

Interesting plant 

Ivan paddles through the floods with his little white booties!

Difficult to capture these green and yellow maccaw

Jungle fruit 

Leaf-cutting ants

Grasshopper

However, it seems all the animals are hibernating today after a heavy-night's rain and we see little. Ivan take the opportunity to explain more about the plants and tree's in the forest, informing us about each of their medicinal properties. Including one which apparently is used in his community as a 'natural viagra', as well as treatment for problematic a kidney or liver. 

We also visit a mirador (viewpoint) of the lake. 

Chalalan Lagoon, from the Mirador

Trees are filled with birdlife

Smiling for photos, so passé....(Ivan & Anke)

Ivan aka Tarzan

On the way back to the lodge we collect wild mangoes....to assit with our jewelery-making session later.

With the help of Ivan, we make commitment rings from the nut inside the fruit. What are we committed to we wonder?  To never stop learning and discovering new things 

about ourselves and the world, we decide. 

Sarah gets stuck in with the jewelery making

Before dinner we canoe out to watch some yellow squirel monkeys playing in the trees by the lake. They are so inquisitive, playful and adorable. We watch their antics for over an hour. 

Getting ready to climb aboard our canoe

Edging along the trees in search of monkeys

Huatzin

Orinoco goose

The red-howlers exchanging gossip & watching the world go-by

On the other hand, the Yellow squirrel monkeys dart about like the speed of light!

Having a quick nibble mid-chasing game

Hide-and-go-seek!

Silouette of a Brown Cappucino monkey, much more timid that the yellow

Cappucino monkey

The sun retires for the evening

Just before we are about to leave we spot a caiman prowling the lower branches, hoping one of these joyful creatures will miss their footing and drop into his waiting jaws below. 

The beady eyes of a Caiman watching his prey

The constrast between the convivial monkeys above, and the still, serious caiman hunting below is one the most incredible moments of the jungle for me. We float on the lake a while longer, looking up an the incredible starry night above, we try to remember the constellations and I feel like the luckiest lady on earth. 

After our last supper, we return to our canoe with torches in hand. We are on a mission to find more caiman. We find a number of juvenile ones, their eyes glowing fireballs of orange under our spotlights. Along the bank of the river we find a tree boa boa contrictor and a baby constrictor hanging from a tree.

Tree boa boa constrictor

Nearby, a youngster dangles from a branch

Our last night, the rain stays away. We fall asleep to the ballad of the jungle, and wake to the ferocious squawking of red-howler monkeys.

The boat trip back to Rurrenabaque is much quicker as we are swept downstream. We see three toucan flying overhead, and arrive back to the town feeling healthy and rejuvenated. Chalalan Lodge is an amazing place, and I would strongly urge people to visit if they are considering a visit to the Bolivian rainforest. It is more expensive than some of the other lodges, but one can rest assured that their money is going to a worthy cause and that the lodge is the most eco-friendly around. I feel I have had a truely authentic experience with nature, where no harm has come to anyone or thing. In the Pampas, apparently tour companies are feeding monkeys and piranah in order ensure sightings for tourists - something I am familiar with (and disgusted with) from 'Monkey Island' in Thailand and 'cage diving' in South Africa. Not only does this behaviour disrupt the delicate eco-system, but also tends to lead to aggression in the (confused) animals and inevitably causes a bigger rift between man and beast.

Back to reality, we are told that all flights are cancelled for the foreseeable future due to the extremely heavy rainfall over the past few days. We are offered a jeep transfer, but cannot face this. We check back into the Hotel Oriental. Showers, laundry, cold beer. Later we have a delcious meal at La Casa de Campo and pour some wine beside our table for Pachamama (Earth Mother), in the hope that she will help us get back to La Paz the following day.

There is no rainfall overnight and the wonderful people of Chalalan work their magic and somehow manange to get us on the first back flight to La Paz, at lunchtime. Thank you Pachamama!

A bumpy, clausterphobic flight. With the lady beside me having panic attacks and I feeling distinctly like I am not getting enough oxygen. We arrive back to Emma's home and are warmly greeted by the delightful menagerie of smiling, happy children and loveable animals. Tonight, we are going for a VIP boogie at Ram Jam in town (Jill is the owner and great friend of Emma). The nicest place in La Paz, I reckon, with fabulous music and a mix of locals, expats and travellers. Alas, an hour after arrival I am struck down with illness - AGAIN! I am not sure what has caused this - sudden change in altitude or food poisoning? Once the violent vomiting has stopped, we ring for a taxi. And the 40 minute journey back to Emma's is just about the longest and most unpleasant I recall. The winding road, the altitude and my need to stop every few minutes put a very sudden and dramatic end to my fun. 

Will my tummy every be the same again I wonder, as I shiver in bed, bucket on-the-ready.....

[Note to those concerned: After a tortuous 24 hours, the author has recovered]