Diving in Cartagena

This past Saturday, Michelle, Christy and I went diving at seven in the morning.  That's right: no sleeping in here!  It was a beautiful, cool day, and we had a friendly, attractive dive instructor, Daniel.  The boat took us out on a thirty-minute ride to the middle of the ocean where the waves were quite choppy.  Unfortunately, Michelle felt the effects as we were gearing up and proceeded to feed the fish her regurgitated breakfast.  Luckily, she was quite the sport and ended up diving anyway.  

Our first dive was over and around a wall about 60 feet below.  The coral was beautiful, and we saw quite a few tropical fish.  It had been a year and a half since my last dive, so I had been a bit nervous about getting in, but there was no need as everything went smoothly.  

Upon surfacing, they gave us water, fruit and chips as we dealt with the rocking of the boat.  Not only was Michelle still seasick, but her leg was burning from a transparent rope she had run into.  The men doused it with water and vinegar, but welts showed up just the same.  The fish continued profiting from her nauseousness.  

For the second dive, we toured around a ship that had sunk 20 years ago.  It used to shine the light for boats coming into harbor but perished during a rough storm.  The current was a bit stronger here, and both Christy and I came up bleeding from scraping against the concrete ship while exiting the interior.  

The black and white fish is the lion fish.  It is beautiful as it hovers over its territory, but it is also an invasive species and kills all the fish that protect reefs.  In the past, I have seen divers bring spears to kill these fish because they're overtaking the Caribbean.  Luckily, we were just able to admire the view this time.  

Although we didn't see any large species of fish, it was good to be in the water again, and I enjoyed being on the boat.  We will probably wait until the windy season is over to go again; the waves should be more bearable at that point.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

This past Sunday was Cartagena's tree lighting ceremony.  The whole center was packed with families enjoying the festivities.  Everywhere you look, there are beautiful lights.  With the nip in the air (granted, it's still 78 degrees outside, but the ocean seems to be blowing in colder air), it almost seems like Christmastime.  

I have seen at least three large trees, all centered around the touristy areas of town.  The parks were decked out, and parts of the fountain had colored water shooting up.

Smart vendors catered to the kids with ice cream, noise makers and toys.

While trying to get through the throngs of people and out of el Centro, we stumbled upon this horse parade that gets its origins from Medellin.  Unfortunately, the cobblestone streets are too narrow, and the horses looked frightened by all the people and noise.  We even saw a horse trip and its owner fall off when it stumbled on a raised rock.  Both ended up being fine, but it irritates me how poorly the Costenos treat their animals at times.  

My apartment has this beautiful tree and manger set up in the lobby downstairs. 

To top it all off, one of the bells at school plays "Jingle Bell Rock".  It's impossible not to dance or sing a little when it comes on, and the kids (and teachers) always seem a bit more upbeat upon hearing it.

Taganga

  Last Friday was another three-day weekend for Thanksgiving.  Elizabeth and I headed on a four-hour bus journey to Taganga, a small fishing town north along the coast.  This village mainly caters to tourists heading into Tayrona National Park and has some great food.  Both Friday and Saturday night, we dined at Babaganoush Restaurant where you can get an appetizer, entree and dessert for only fourteen bucks.  Plus, they had happy hour all night long.  I would've paid fourteen dollars for the pumpkin soup alone.  

    On Saturday, Elizabeth, Jumana (had gone up on Thursday) and I took an hour boat ride with about 16 other people to Tayrona to spend the day snorkeling and enjoying the beach.  Little did we know that we'd be pounding against the waves in a slightly-larger-than-a-canoe death trap the whole way.  Although I was sitting in the back in the middle, I had absolutely nothing to hang onto as my seat was just a tiny addition to the steering console.  My legs got quite the workout just trying to keep me in.  Upon arriving at the first beach where everyone but Elizabeth, Jumana and me disembarked, a Spaniard ahead of me stated, "You have to go through Hell first before reaching Heaven."  You know it's been a rough ride when everyone claps with relief when we landed safely.  

  

  Unfortunately, the three of us still had another fifteen-minute ride to Cinto, a deserted bay area that Jumana's boyfriend had recommended.  Although it was quite pretty, there wasn't much of a beach, and the visibility for snorkeling was nil.  Luckily, the boat driver was there with us, so we headed back to Playa Crystal.  

  This spot was much better, and we were actually able to see colorful fish and coral.  Plus, they had a bathroom (costs a buck to use) with no running water or toilet paper.  The best!  

  The ride home was a bit rougher for me, as I had a seat in the very front.  The same Spaniard sat next to me, and I literally held on to his life jacket the whole time for fear of flying out of the boat.  Quite a few times, we hit a wave head-on, and our butteaus rose a couple feet from the bench only to thump back down a second later.  Let's just say the conversation was a wee bit stilted at times.  

  On Sunday, we shoveled down some breakfast and took the longer, five-hour ride home.  

Thanksgiving

Turkey Trot 

  My Thanksgiving started off a bit early this year, as I had to run the 10k Turkey Trot on Wednesday since there was school on Thursday and two separate feasts to attend.
  On Wednesday after school, it was that muggy type of day that just drains the life right out of you.  I waited until sunset to begin my run and was immediately greeted by several obstacles: construction on the sidewalk that made me run side by side with oncoming traffic, big ditches and sand piles scattered throughout the way, hordes of tourists and locals lazily making their way in the opposite direction and taking up the whole sidewalk, crashing waves of salt water sprayed at me and the cement, making it a slippery place to run, and, of course, the heat.  Added onto all that were the wonderful aromas of car/bus exhaust, a hint of rain, fish, and occasionally, that high-inducing smell of pot.  It just puts an extra bounce in one's step, you know?
  Now, you may believe that I'm making excuses for my poorest time yet (and you may be right), but the biggest one is yet to come.  Not having a vehicle to measure exactly five kilometers from my house to Bocagrande, I used Google Maps.  Well, the only option was a driving route that went a block or so out of the way.  Being the honest person I am, I added on an extra block on my run, not realizing that it was more like two blocks each way.  That's right: I went over 10k.  Just saying.
  Unfortunately, I was unable to get under an hour.  There was no way I could pick up my speed much at the end.  This was after drinking over three liters of water throughout the day.  My body refused to let me kill myself with heat exhaustion.  Alas, my time was 1:02:50, and it was quite the relief to get it over with.  As much as I missed the camaraderie of torturing myself with hundreds of other people and family members, I kept the tradition alive and halfway enjoyed myself in the process.

Thanksgiving Day

  After teaching for half a day on Thursday, the students went home, and the school provided the staff with a fancy Thanksgiving feast.  The cafeteria was decked out, and it was a good time stuffing ourselves with the delicious fare.  They served a variety of foods, including mashed squash, veggies, meatloaf, turkey, mashed potatoes, and dessert: pecan pie or flan.  (I, of course, waited for the pecan pie.)  When everyone was finished eating, the buses took us home to recuperate for a couple hours before eating again.  

  That night, quite a few teachers met at Steve's (the principal's) building for a potluck.  I don't know if it was the run or the presence of good ol' American food, but I went up for refills more than once.
  Although I missed having Thanksgiving with the family (and, let's get real, Mama's stuffing and crumb-topped apple pie), I ended up enjoying myself with the people here.  All in all, it was a successful Thanksgiving.

Cabildo

  In the month of November, Cartageneros celebrate their independence from Spain, which took place November 11, 1811.  Not only is there partying involved, but some traditional dances are performed as well.  Five years ago, COJOWA started to reenact the celebrations at school by having every other grade level perform a dance.
  You know what that means!  That's right: the teachers are invited to participate in a dance.  Never one to pass up the opportunity to delve into a culture or to make a complete fool out of myself, I nervously signed up, telling everyone within earshot that I have no rhythm.  Unfortunately, that didn't phase them in the least.
  For the last two months, we spent several Wednesdays after school practicing for two hours (instead of getting professional development or free time).  Halfway through, Sandro, the coordinator of it all, would come in with juice boxes and some tasty, fattening snack, i.e. cheesy bread.  Thankfully, they hired a professional choreographer to help us learn the dances, and you could just tell that she would so much rather be teaching the lithe Colombian kids than the mostly North-American-two-left-footed staff.
  Luckily, we pulled the dances together.  The first one, the Bullerengue, is a traditional dance that has a whole lot of symbolization.  Our choreographer put heavy, bright makeup on all the girls and helped us put our hair up in a wrap.  While watching the video, I am the fourth person in the left line at first.  Otherwise I'm on the very right in the second row.  If it wasn't for Jen standing in front of me for both dances, I don't know what I would've done.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UsDMHjdtNCQ&feature=youtu.be

  The second dance, the Ras Tas Tas, was a wee bit more provocative.  After running outside and taking off the flaw-covering white dresses, we quickly started this popular tune.  My students were right to the side of me, so I could hear their cheers and see their delighted faces (knowing they would have something to tease me about for the rest of the year).  After the dance, several of them came up and showed me homemade videos of the dances.  Uggghhhhhh......

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JH8JeHhmJII

  Although I had that awkward, get-me-out-of-here smile plastered to my face the entire time, I quite enjoyed the camaraderie my fellow dancers and I had and am definitely planning on doing it again next year.  Plus, it's all for the kids, right?

Southwest Colombia: Transportation

  One of the issues of visiting the off-beaten sites in Colombia is the lack of really timely transportation and good roads.  Although we saw a ton of places and had a great time, we spent hours upon hours in all modes of transportation.  

  A popular and faster way of getting from one place to the next was by collectivo.  This is a ten-passenger van that leaves only when it has all its passengers, which could mean a wait of an hour or more.  We learned not to trust the men who told us the collectivo would be leaving in 15 minutes.  Uh huh, more like 45.  

  On both buses and collectivos, more often than not, they gave us the preferential treatment and allowed us to sit in the front with the driver.  Although carsickness wasn't as big of a problem, there was often less leg room in the front (especially when you have to squeeze your legs together so the driver can shift), and occasionally, you'd get that annoying driver who would try having a conversation while driving on pothole-filled dirt roads in the middle of a rainy night and insist on slowing down the van to look over as you try to respond to his mumbled Spanish.  No worries, dude: I don't mind you hitting my thigh every time you start talking to me, and yes, I love the fact that you're driving five miles per hour and making this four-hour bus ride turn into seven.  No biggie.  Let's just say my normally cheerful disposition turned murderous that night.  

  All the streets are two-laned and some just one, which makes huge semis passing each other a magic trick.  Seeing as how we were driving through the Andes the whole time, we were constantly on the sides of sheer cliffs, just waiting to plummet down to our deaths by one wrong move by the driver.  Construction was going on everywhere.  Each ride took one to two hours longer than predicted to get to our destination because every 500 meters or so we had to stop and wait for the construction lady to tell us to pass.  One time, we waited forty-five minutes at a stop due to an accident further up the road.  

  This waiting led to some major dehydration, as we didn't know exacly when we'd be stopping next, and the constant presence of switchbacks meant there was no privacy to use the restroom.  A benefit to all this bumpy road travel was an increase in leg muscles due to tensing our muscles so as not to fall off the seats and excellent abs from all the bouncing.  

Southwest Colombia: Tierradentro

  My favorite part of southwest Colombia was Tierradentro, an extremely small town with absolutely nothing to do but hike.  We actually stayed in San Andres de Pisimbala, a town right up the hill.  This was the first place we had hot water, and my razor just about broke while trying to get through the jungle on my legs.  Plus, the bandeja paisas we had been eating (remember: rice, meat or fish, beans, salad, plantain) for breakfast, lunch and dinner were losing some appeal, and the lady at the one restaurant in town was an amazing cook and used the freshest ingredients to make the best food we had on our trip.  For example, we saw the owner carrying the squash to the restaurant where a couple hours later we ate squash soup.  It doesn't get much fresher than that. 

  Tierradentro is known for its elaborate underground tombs built sometime between the 7th and 9th centuries AD.  This is only a conjecture, but archaeologists have uncovered about 100 tombs, and from the looks of things, there are quite a few more to be discovered.  

  After a quick breakfast, we started the 14 kilometer (almost 9 miles) hike around 8:30.  This dog bounded down from the restaurant balcony and accompanied us almost the whole way before being chased off by the tomb police towards the end.  Here, he is soaking in a puddle of water, exhausted after chasing after every known dog and cow in the region.  

There were a few obstacles to cross, but nothing too serious or nerve racking.












The majority of the first half of the trail was covered in knee-deep mud and droppings from the animals that crossed the way.  Thankfully, I was wearing my water-proof hiking boots, but Elizabeth was not so lucky in her breathable sneakers.







                                     
  The tombs were of all different shapes and sizes and mostly had extremely steep and narrrow steps to get down them.  Some of the chambers had red, yellow and white paintings, and the really intricate ones also had large figures carved into the columns and walls.  Obviously, I am not an archaelogist because after seeing five to ten tombs, I felt like I had seen them all.  Of course, I'm not one to shy away from a great quads workout, and I didn't want to miss anything new, so I went down just about all of them.

  Like the rest of our trip, the scenery was fantastic.  The hike took us up to the highest point, made a steep decline to the museums at the very bottom, then climbed back up to more sites.  Even though Tierradentro is not the most accessible place, I would return to this place just for the awesome hike.  

  Down by the museums, we ran into two college guys we had met the night before, and they joined us on the rest of the hike.  Afterward, we ordered some coconut wine at the restaurant and continued to practice Spanish.  Unfortunately, the night ended rather weirdly as Daniel (the one on the left) believed they might have a chance with us.  Ummmm....no.  Alas, only really young or older (as proved the next night in a bar) guys hit on us.  If one of them was a rich drug lord, fine; I would have no qualms with the age.  But, no, these people are just students or hardworking farmers.  Don't worry, Dad: my sights are still high.  

Southwest Colombia: Laguna de La Cocha

  Laguna de La Cocha is a popular weekend destination for those looking to just get away.  Beside a large lake is a cute town with lush mountains in the backdrop.  The main activity here is to take a boat tour around the lake, stopping at a little island in the middle to view the chapel and take a scenic walk through to the other side.  

  Although I saw scuba divers getting ready, there was not a soul on the lake except for a few boats carrying tourists (all Colombian).  This would have been a perfect place to water ski, but I am obviously the only one with this mindset.

  For an extra couple of bucks, our boat driver offered to take us to see the trout farm and ducks.  The male ducks have these bright blue beaks to attract the ladies but continued to turn their heads away every time I held up my camera.  Luckily, this one had nowhere to go.  

When it gets dark, about six o'clock, everything begins shutting down.  Thankfully, we were still able to try two very delicious treats: strawberries and cream and hervidos.  A lady actually spent ten minutes whipping up homemade cream to make us this delicious dessert.  

  Hervido is the perfect drink for a cold evening, not only to warm you up, but to prepare yourself for the freezing shower that awaits.  It combines heated fruit juice (in this case, blackberry) with aguardiente (strong liquor popular here).  Ring the rim with sugar and a lime, and wa la, you have an hervido!  

  At six o'clock the following morning, we heard someone on the loudspeaker for a few minutes.  While breakfasting, we saw just about the whole town, men and women, tearing apart the road and moving the hexagonal bricks to who knows where.  It was neat to see because everyone was working together and getting the job done.  

Southwest Colombia: Las Lajas

  This past week, Elizabeth and I toured around Southwest Colombia.  I absolutely loved it and cannot wait to visit the interior of Colombia again.  Not only was everything at least half the price as Cartagena, but I was able to practice, and understand, more Spanish in this past week than my four months in Cartagena.  The next few posts will be about some of the highlights of my trip.

  Our first stop was Las Lajas, an extremely small town just a few miles from the Ecuadorian border.  We stayed in Casa Pastoral, a large, communal "hotel" that is run by nuns and looks like an old convent.  It costs us just six bucks apiece for a night of sleeping on mattresses that were probably used by nuns five hundred years ago.  Since the elevation was quite high, it was chilly at night, and the icy shower really helped to rejuvenate the body.
  Seeing as the town closed down by eight at night, we had a hard time even finding something to eat.  Luckily, we were able to grab some hot soup and bandeja paisa (rice, meat, plantain, small salad) before watching the Saturday entertainment of kids' soccer games.

  The main draw of Las Lajas is the Santuario, a neo-Gothic church that was built in the 1900s to commemorate the Virgin Mary appearing here.  Each weekend, there are hundreds of pilgrims coming to pay their respects, hear mass and go to confession.  

  The scenery surrounding this church is absolutely stunning.  There is a bridge spanning between two mountainsides with a river flowing at the bottom and greenery everywhere.  Below the church is a chapel where priests are constantly hearing confessions, and under that is a museum that shows old church relics and how the indigenous people used to live.  

The Amazing Roach

How would you like to look up at this every time you entered the bathroom?  For the last month, a section of the molding around the bathroom ceiling has been torn down.  A man was supposed to fix it, but alas, it obviously hasn't happened yet.  

When I first saw this lovely roach, I was afraid my house was infested.  I have since learned that this guy is dead because in four weeks, he has yet to move even a little leg hair.  As you can see, the leg hairs are still intact, which got me wondering, How long does it take a sewer roach to decompose?  

Although I did not find my answer, I did find these fascinating facts about cockroaches:

http://listverse.com/2009/03/30/10-fascinating-talking-points-about-cockroaches/

And, if you want to be even more impressed, I recommend reading the Gregor the Overlander series; I'll never look at a cockroach the same again. 

Holy toledo, Batman!

  This morning, I climbed into bed around 2:30, exhausted after a day of teaching and going out for Halloween.  I don't know what made me open my eyes almost an hour later, but suddenly, there was this small rat scampering across MY pillow directly towards my face.  

  I am always impressed with the human body because it has never failed me during all our Polar Bear Club dives, and it sure didn't fail me now.  Quicker than you can say, "Boo!", my body was flung out bed and standing in the entryway, heart thumping like crazy.  

  Do you know what's worse than knowing a rat is in your room?  No?  It's not being able to SEE the rat in your room.  Although I had quickly turned on the lights, my glasses were way over on the ledge by the pillow, and, in case some of you are unaware of the magnitude of the situation, I am literally blind without corrective lenses. Ughhhhhh......  Why, oh why, is there no such thing as a Summoning Charm? With tentative steps, I hurried to plop on my glasses and book it out of my room again.  

  Right then, I saw the offending creature on the floor pathetically flapping around.  It wasn't a disgusting rat but a poor bat, confused on how to get out of my house.  Deciding I needed a picture before doing a capture and release, I grabbed my camera from the dining room.  In the ten seconds it took me, the bat somehow made it back under the bed.  This could be a problem.  

  Before continuing, you may wonder how the bat originally got in. 

Exhibit A

(master bathroom window: always open as it lets in a cool breeze at night)

Exhibit B

(patio door: always open to give Bella a chance to hang out on the balcony)

  After trying to stir the bat out from under the bed with a broom (there is no way I was going to put my head under there in the dark), I decided to give up and crawl back into bed, crossing my fingers that I wouldn't have something running across my face throughout the night.  [Since teaching about these amazing creatures years ago for Zoology Club, I have known that most bats (besides the ones with rabies) aren't dangerous and are extremely helpful to the environment; therefore, I wasn't too worried.]  For a better escape route, I switched sides of the bed and tossed around fitfully until dawn, hearing the scratching of the bat on the underbelly of my bed.  With the light of morning, I finally felt sure the bat would wait until this evening to venture outside again and slept much better.  

  And what was Bella, my faithful companion, doing this whole time? 

Chikungunya

  Since returning from Chile, several students have been out for days at a time with the excuse that they have Chikungunya, a virus spread by mosquitoes.  My school is out of town a ways in the middle of farmland with several large ponds close by.  With it being the rainy season, the mosquito count has been high, and the blood-suckers are constantly buzzing around my classroom.
  In the middle of a lesson yesterday, one particularly high-strung boy, Sergio, started running around, frantically waving his arms yelling, "Chikungunya! Chikungunya!"  (That's one way to get out of learning.)  There are mosquito bodies plastered to my walls where kids have smashed the lives out them before they could wreak any more havoc .  Needless to say, there is an intense fear of getting bitten.
  The virus became a reality for me when I received this alert from the American Consulate today:

U.S. Embassy Bogota, Colombia

Security Message for U.S. Citizens:  Chikungunya virus in Colombia

October 29, 2014

The U.S. Embassy informs U.S. citizens living and traveling in Colombia of a public health concern regarding the chikungunya virus.  Chikungunya virus is a mosquito transmitted virus recently identified in Colombia and spreading. Symptoms typically include fever and joint pain of the hands and feet that begin 3-7 days after being bitten by an infected mosquito.  Other symptoms may include muscle pain, headache, fever, joint swelling, and rash.  There is no vaccine or medication to prevent chikungunya virus infection or any antiviral medications to treat it at this time.  While deaths are rare, people at increased risk for severe disease include newborns, adults over 65 years, and those with chronic health conditions.  The presentation of chikungunya is similar to dengue.  Citizens are encouraged to seek medical attention if they are showing symptoms, and especially if the fever is over 102 F (above 39 C).  At this time, prevention measures are focused on reducing mosquito exposure by the use of mosquito repellents, covering exposed skin, permethrin-treated clothing, mosquito control measures like emptying water from outdoor containers, and supporting local mosquito control measures.  Anyone sick with chikungunya should avoid mosquito bites to help prevent further spreading of the virus.  Please visit the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) website on Chikungunya virus for additional information.


P.S. I recommend you look up pictures of the rash this virus can cause.  I would post photos, but some people tend to get a little squeamish.  

Santiago

Christy left Santiago late Saturday night, which left me to wander around the city on Sunday.  My favorite part was sitting in a cafe, drinking Lady Grey tea, and eating this delicious triple chocolate cake.  I am craving a slice with a large glass of milk right now but am trying to fend off temptation by just drinking some wine.  Seeing the picture is not helping.

As much as I enjoyed Chile, I was relieved to be home.  Some takeaways on Chile (at least the parts I saw):

1.  It is extremely expensive.  A normal sandwich with no fries costs sixteen dollar.  I do believe I spent almost as much on food as on the plane ticket. 

2.  They have some delicious bread there: crispy crusts and soft centers.

3.  The air is incredibly dry and blows up allergies like no other. 

4.  It reminded me of the United States (not a bad thing but not something I want when traveling to a foreign country).  The only differences I could discern were the lack of free restrooms and the Spanish being spoken.  

Isla Negra

Our last stop before returning to Santiago was Isla Negra, a small, beach-side town close to the resort.  The house of Pablo Neruda was the biggest draw here.  Pablo Neruda is one of the most famous poets in Chile/South America and owned several houses in which people go to visit.  The house in Isla Negra is supposedly the most beautiful, so we ventured off to see it.  

  The ocean view from the house was the most beautiful I have ever seen as the blue in the waters made it hard to look away.  The pictures really don't do the view justice.

Pablo's house was in the shape of a ship; he was obsessed with ships and the sea.  It's ironic that he rarely ever rode on a boat.  If this was my view every day, I could probably become a poet, too.  

Pablo and one of his wives are buried in the backyard, facing the ocean.  At least, they were.  Pablo's body has recently been exhumed to check for signs of homicide.  He died shortly after the 1973 military coup took over Chile and the president/his friend killed himself before being able to be taken hostage.

A Giant Pool

On the top of Christy's list of things to see in Chile was the largest pool in the world.  The San Alfonso del Mar Resort is only about sixty miles from Santiago; the pool covers 20 acres of land and holds about 66 million gallons of seawater.  Thankfully, we stayed during the off-season so only had to book one night instead of the usual three.  

Our cozy apartment was a welcome sight after another overnight bus ride and a long day of sightseeing.  We made it just in time to fix some hot tea and view the sunset.  

Do you see the lit-up pyramid below with two smaller pools beside it?  That's the jacuzzi area.  Now, I would just like to point out that this is Chile's spring, and the air is nippy, even downright cold by the ocean, so a dip in the Jacuzzis sounded ideal.  Fourteen dollars later (eight to get in and six for a swim cap), we were thawing out while the stars lit of the sky.  

Besides two ladies working the desk, we were the only girls in the entire place.  You'd think this would be a great opportunity to meet some guys, heh?  Yeah, no.  Although we met every single guy, but one, working and visiting there that night, none were up to our standards.  There was a 27- year-old guy (with a nine-year-old kid) still plugging away at his Master's after five years (not working for three of those); a 19-year-old pool cleaner who doesn't like school, and a gay couple coming to destressify.  Fun to talk to but absolutely no potential.

Luckily, we had something even better than guys: wine and chocolate! It was the perfect way to end the day.

Pisco Elqui

Are you in the mood for a mystical experience?  Well, head to Pisco Elqui!  That's right: this sleepy town has everything to heal your soul and transcend you to other worlds.  Of course, that's not what Christy and I were looking for, but we did get in some great relaxation.  

In order to get to this desert pueblo in between the Andes Mountains, we took a seven-hour overnight bus ride from Santiago to La Serena, then another two-hour ride to Pisco Elqui.  Just imagine how we smelled when we arrived at the hostel at nine in the morning.  Thankfully, our room was ready, so we threw our bags in, drank some hot tea, and started our exploration of the town.  

In the hour we walked around (that's all it takes), we saw maybe five people out and about.  Five people! And some of them could've been repeats!  Luckily, we ended up finding a horseback riding tour that we booked for the next day.  Plus, we toured a pisco plant.  Pisco is a strong liquor both Chileans and Peruvians drink and is what this valley is known for.  

The next day, Leo, our guide, drove us up the mountains a ways to ride the horses.  As Leo was showing us how to control the horses, his started trying to buck him off and continued to do so for the next two hours.  Christy's horse was big-time cautious and wouldn't go over the bridges without Leo guiding it.  Mine, on the other hand, was okay to lead when Leo's horse was having issues and crossed the bridges with my encouragement.  What can I say?  I'm a natural!

We pretty much traversed through rocky, dry terrain until we came to the river and had a snack before turning back again.  Unfortunately, we didn't get to gallop, but it was a different part of the valley to see, and it felt good being on a horse once more.

The garden area of the hostel was our favorite part.  There were hammocks scattered about, birds chirping, flowers blooming, and a gentle breeze to lull us to sleep for our afternoon naps.  Plus, the greenery here was a welcome sight.  Pisco Elqui is a desert, and I don't mean the pretty type of desert that surrounds the Phoenix area.  I mean the ugly, barren-type of desert that sucks all the moisture out of your body until you're a walking bag of wrinkles.  (Can you tell I've gotten used to the Cartagena humidity?)  

That night, we laid outside watching the stars pop out until the full moon dominated the sky.  The first shot is with my camera; the second is with the hostel owner's.  Quite a bit of a difference, no?

Our final day there, we rented a couple mountain bikes to ride the eleven kilometers to Horcon, an extreme hippie village that gets by on its artisan skills.  It's a good thing we didn't know about the "hills" we had to climb.  Best....workout....ever.  After browsing the shops (and noticing a funny smell), we grabbed a bit to eat and started the journey back.  Boy, was this time around easier!  We were flying down the road at an alarming rate most of the way.  In fact, I had my brake on the entire time for fear of a painful death.  

Three kilometers from town, my left pedal came off...the whole pedal, including the arm.  My riding days were over, but I was still able to coast a bit here and there.  It's a good thing I have long legs and can propel myself along while sitting on the seat.