Colombia update

http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroColombia?feat=directlink

Photo Link:

Colombia:

I entered Colombia on what was supposed to be a 5hr bus from Quito Ecuador to the border, I quickly realised that wasn´t going to happen when the bus was an hour late and instead of leaving at 5am it didn´t roll up to the station until 6:30am. The ride was beautiful though, when ever i could keep my eyes open i was blessed with beautiful mountain scenery, green hills, small villages, canyons, along with fields and pastures. Rolling up to the border was probably one of the most painless crossings i have had thus far. exiting Ecuador was amazingly fast, and entering Colombia required NO paper work, just a 5 person line and a 1 minute or two while the immigration guard flipped to an empty page on my passport and stamped me in. My next bus was actually quite similar to the first of this long journey into Colombia, a estimated 12 hours to my final destination, and at 11pm with still 5 more hours to go i bailed on the remainder of the journey and stopped off in the town on Papayan.

Papayan: is a real locals town and i semi regret not spending more than a day there, with side trips to national parks, mountains with good biking, coffee tours, hot springs, and just good local food, i only spent the morning here before jumping on another epic bus journey. I was planning on heading to Cali but after talking to a couple of travelers re routed to the city of Salento located up in the hills which is one of the major coffee growing regions of Colombia. OH, hostel trails was a great hostel in Papayan.
Salento: More bus drama continued with my noon departure, i rolled into the city of cali around 4pm and hopped immediately onto a shuttle to Armenia. I arrived here around 9pm after a major traffic jam due to shitty weather and multiple upturned cars. the sight of the accidents didn´t deter the bus drier though from driving as fast as humanly possible which scaring the ever living shit out of me and probably all the other passenger (colombia drivers are absolutely crazy). When i arrived the bus driver laughed when i asked how to get to Salento because all buses for the night had stopped.
He was wrong and some how with my horrible Spanish i managed to get onto a mini bus which drove me for free outside of the city, honking at another moving minibus, they both stopped, i was pushed off my bus and onto the other. I had no clue what was happening but i was now salento bound and rolled into town an hour later.
Plantation House is one of the only "real" hostels in town, British run and sitting on a coffee plantain, the overly proud owner runs coffee tours where he boasts about his brilliant idea to grow the best coffee. sadly he has just taken over the estate a year ago and actually didn´t even have coffee to offer us since his yields are so low and it normally takes a couple of years to really start accumulating beans. He again proudly offered us the information that he purchased the estate (12 plus achers) for $50,000usd which is also a fruit farm with pineapples, bananas, plantains, blackberries, etc. etc. an awesome piece of land and amazingly cheap.
the city of salento is quiet, but beautiful place, it was easy to spend 3 days there and the local national park was worth a hike through. I visited and drank some great local coffee, walked the hills around the town and chilled out after way too much busing for the past 2 days.

Medellin: a city which came highly recommended by many and i was pretty excited to get there, sadly it was talked up a bit too much and although i enjoyed it, i really wan´t in the partyin´ mood which is primarily what is so great about medellin. I stayed a Tiger Paw hostel which is American run and hosts a beerpong night every Friday which sadly i missed, the hostel is located very close to zona rosa which is just packed with bars and restaurants, actually i have never see so many bars, clubs, and restaurants so close together, about 6 square blocks of wall to wall bars. I can´t say it wasn´t a good time walking around from place to place, but all in all was just a huge party. Not being the huge Reggeton club dancer or club goer, i actually did enjoy seeing a south american club with everyone moving to the same beat, rhythmically, all in one motion, it fulfilled my expectations of what a club down here would be like. Besides partyin´ and drinking good Colombian coffee, i went paragliding which really was not all that thrilling, a good experience, worth doing, but not all that exhilarating, you get strapped in, take a few steps forward, the wind comes in and all of a sudden your floating, very calm and peacefully.

Santa Marta: Finally i did it, from the southern most tip of south america all the way up north to the Caribbean coast, i spent two nights in santa marta and honestly didn´t love it, i found it to be just a city with nothing too special in it. Playa Blanca was a big stretch of sand with hotels behind it. not a terrible place but santa marta held nothing special for me.

Taganga: only a 5 min. taxi ride from santa marta was where i spent 2.5 weeks, a tiny slice of paradise, at least in my opinion. After 19 months of being on the road i was happy to put down my pack and just chill. this town of no more than 1,500 was excellent, it had a beach, some ok coffee shops, some decent food, but overall it was just relaxing and easy going. i spent most of my time relaxing on the beach, drinking fruit smoothies, sippin´colombian coffee, and organizing side trips to near by spots.

The lost city trek was highly recommended but something i was a bit disappointed with, a 5 day hike which could have been done in 3 was anything but a trek. i would call it a leisurely walk through the jungle, not a bad thing but not worth what it costs, the ruins at the top are ok, but being a jungle location the homes made years ago from wood and palm leaves no longer exist and all that remains is the stone stair cases and circular stone foundations, interesting but i think my heart really just wanted to relax, and 5 days to get to an average climax was not what i was looking for. I would say getting to the sight was just as fun and interesting as the lost city it's self.

Tyrona Park: this was worth every penny, a rather pricey (for Colombia standards) park entry fee as well as hammock fee for camping, was money well spent. Palm fringed beaches on a remote part of the Caribbean, amazingly relaxing, nothing to do but eat, sleep, have an occasional beer, and enjoy walking around the coast exploring different beaches.

Over all my time in Taganga was really enjoyable, a french run sandwich shop got most of my lunch buisness, a dutch chef running a excellent restaurant up on the hill in the city got some of my dinner business, and the local bbq joints that pop up around every corner we constantly frequented. Beers at the corner store were cheap and cold and the sun on the beach was nice and hot, i couldn´t be more thankful for taganga at this point in my trip. if arriving here earlier it would have probably lasted no more than 5 days, but i was happy to make it home base for about 15 of the 30 i spent in Colombia. OH, and as far as my travels go, this was the cheapest place that i have seen to get Scuba certified, which i finally did!

Bogota: another city which came highly recommended but i sadly neglected it. My heart was just not into it, my body was tired and all i wanted to do was relax. i spent a full day walking around and regretted not giving it more of my time and attention, but it felt forced and when i got on my flight to mexico i was ready to move a step closer to home.

Peru update

Peru and Galapagos Picture link

http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroPeruGalapagos?feat=directlink

Puno: just across the boarder from Bolivia, resting on the lake front of gigantic Titicaca, it was much more of a city than Copacabana on the Bolivian side. Filled with interesting restaurants attempting to be a bit more than they really are, it was fun to have a glass of wine here and get my bearing for my attack on the rest of Peru.

Arequipa: a great city with minimal tourist attractions with in which made it that much better for me. The hustle and bustle of real life was great to walk amongst; eating with locals in the market and shopping in every day supermarkets was fun to experience again. A mini taste or "real life" with out the work or course, but still filled with coffee in the morning and a beer at night. The stepping off point to experience Colca canyon, mnt biking, or rafting.

Colca Canyon: about 5 hours out side Arequipa by minivan through windy dirt roads, wrapping around mountains, down into valleys, past glacial capped peaks, and surrounded by farm land which literally clings to the mountain side, the 2nd deepest canyon in the world was a pretty impressive place to be for 3 days. Hiking wasn't so strenuous since our packs were light and the end of the day always promised a decent warm meal, but a 5am departure to beat the sun creeping over the ridge on day 3 wasn't exactly a breeze. 1300 meters in under 2hours was a good accent on day 3, and well worth the early rise due to the late morning clouds which cover the surrounding peaks. And enjoyable 3 days and the only rural experience I was privileged in, in both Peru and Ecuador.

Cusco: typically the starting point for the famous Inca trail, a 5 day hike up to macchu pichu or the hop on point for aguas caliente, the closest town to the historic Incan city. For me, cusco was just a great city to try some interesting restaurants, visit the local market, learn about "san pedros cactus," and take a trip down a current raging river. Since flooding has taken out all means of approaching macchu piccu, the river we rafted was moving a bit quicker than normal which made it all the more fun. With hopes to return to this city and country, I hopped on a 40hr (2 bus) trip north to the beaches with a 2hr layover in lima. A long journey but easily done when tiered, a bit under the weather and in need of rest.

Bus ride: the 2 day epic ride was long no doubt but took me through extremely impressive landscapes. From the high Andes, to winding rural hills, past farms, small homes, down canyons, into dryer desert landscapes, past sand dunes by the northern coast and up to mancora, A long ride but one ill look forward to in the future when I have time to break it up and really experience Peru.

Mancora: a touristy beach town with a small town vibe, good night life, great beach, good waves if your a surfer or just like the ocean. The seafood is fresh and there is not much to due but hang out and enjoy the sun.

Ecuador/Galapagos:

My experience in Ecuador is minimal and truly the Galapagos is really nothing like the rest of the country. The rural but beautiful coast line is a place I would like to return to, as well as the stunning peaks of the massive volcanoes which lay close to Quito. Cotopaxi being a peak I hope to summit some time in my life.

Galapagos: truly unlike any place I have ever been. Incomparable, and truly amazing, the cost was high and put a bad taste in my mouth, but it was something I was willing to swallow because it is an experience I have always wanted to have.

Staying on the main island of Santa Cruz was a good base for day trips, and my 60usd trip to Foloreana was THE highlight of my Galapagos trip. Swimming with 20+ sea lions was simply amazing, the water was shallow (less than 6ft deep), the waves were rolling over head and every now and then the occasional sea lion would get a bit to curious and a wave would push her right into you. Surrounded by these animals was an experience I won't forget, 30min disappeared way way to fast, simply amazing.

The tour continued onto the island where we got to visit a couple different species of land touruses which are kept together, they are as close to being in the wild as possible. Only a stone wall separates them from roaming freely, but gives them the freedom of wandering around a very very large area. I believe keeping them together just increases the chances of reproduction. Anyways, they were fantastic to see and a unique part of the trip.

The Boat Cruz, was not forgettable, but not overly special, I did how ever swim with some more sea lions (nothing like the first time), I swam along side some giant sea turtles, walked along side marine and sea iguanas, and got to see countless sea birds on my last day including the Galapagos famous blue footed booby.

I loved my trip but if ever returning would choose to possibly look at San Cristobal island, a much smaller island closer to Floriana (my favorite) and Espana island which I hear is ever so stunning, both only day trips away, thus saving some serious bucks on a 3 day cruse. Over all, a very unique and unforgettable experience.

Peru Email

Its very hard to speak on two countries I have spent so little time in. A total of 25 in both countries (18 of which were in Peru) I feel that I didn’t get a good enough sense of the people, culture, cuisine, or landscape to really allow my self to say I have experience either country to it’s fullest. It’s sad that I consider my self to be rushing, but the realization that I would not be able to visit Machu Picchu forced me to pick up my feet a bit higher and move a bit faster in hopes that some time in my life ill be able to return and visit these two countries properly.

What I did enjoy very briefly, and what I feel like I missed out on, was the slow way of life, the rural towns, the places a bit off the beaten track. Entering Peru through northern Bolivia I headed straight for the large city of Arequipa which I did enjoy, the hustle and bustle of every day life was quite nice to be immersed in, the food market was of course a highlight for me which couldn't have gotten any better once I discovered the crispy skin roasted pork served up with a home made vinegar based hot sauce. I got two portions, one to eat immediately and one to take with me on the bus that evening , I devoured the second one an hour later and clearly it never came close to making it to the journey. Although I enjoyed Arequipa I would have loved to do more trekking in the mountains.

A rural 3 day hike through colca canyon was my only real non city experience which I found to be quite stunning. Cusco and its delicious restaurant filled streets were next on my map and since Machu Picchu was closed (due to flooding) I was only their briefly. The beach town of Mancora which I lounged at for 3 days eating as much Peruvian style ceviche as possible was my last stop in this country and really left me wanting to see more, but I guess now was not the time.

Ecuador was a quick 7 days which started with a midnight boarder crossing, a 4:30am arrival in Guayaquil, a taxi to the airport, cup of coffee at 5:00am, I was on the stand bye line at 6:30am, got the go ahead to buy a ticket at 8:40am and was in the air to the Galapagos by 9:15am. Eating ceviche by 11am, and on a powdery white sand beach by 3:00pm.

I spent 5 and a half days in the Galapagos and to say it was a regrettable decision would be a lie. Expensive.... YES, forgettable.... NO. I had the privilege of spending 2 nights on the main island of Santa Cruz, and three evenings on a boat touring around from island to island. When having had the opportunity to do so much in the past several months, it has been hard to judge how special each experience has been because there has been so many and all have been special in their own ways. When thinking back to the Galapagos, the thing I will remember the most is that it is truly incomparable to anywhere else I have been, and there are not too many places I can say that about.

Leaving the Galapagos as quickly as I arrived, I was shuttled off my 3 day boat tour, bused to the airport and flew off the island to Quito all within an hour of walking through the island of Seymour filled with blue footed boobies, sea lions, and iguanas. Landing in Quito after the tranquility of the Galapagos was a bit rattling as everything in Ecuador is priced in USD, as they no longer have a national currency, and the reality of getting closer to home definitely set in with each dollar spent.

Bolivia update

Vilizon: Crossing into Bolivia for Argentina was an exciting part of this south American trip. Not that i didn´t enjoy Argentina, but it was quite sterile, there was plenty of culture but lacked something special, something i couldn´t put a finger on until i crossed into Bolivia. the clothing, the way people looked, the basic simple foods being sold on the streets (empanadas, sandwiches, tamales), fresh juices being squeezed, the realization that I was no longer in what i perceived a first world country was what excited me. Bolivia was more raw, a bit more rugged, and immediatly it excited me.
Vilizon was not a beautiful city, in fact it was exactly what it was.... a boarder town filled with money exchangers, cheap goods, a bus and train station with the soul purpose of getting people the hell out of that dank town. Unfortunately the train which i was hoping to board was filled but I was able to buy the last tickets to Uyuni. Being warned in Argentina that if i missed the train i would be forced to deal with the "bus ride from hell," bumpy, cramped, hot, and terrifying. Maybe it´s been the hair raising trips through the Himalayas in china, or the cramped ass numbing, knee splitting, back sweating, minivan/bus rides i have endured in Lao, Vietnam, or Sri Lanka, but regardless i found the bus to be unbelievably pleasant. i could have done with out my butt sinking to the bottom of the cushion resting on a metal frame, or my back being cradled in the seat feeling as if i may bust through to the other side at every bump the back tiers hit, but the views, and the experience was second to none. Coming into Bolivia with NO expectations i was immediately captivated with a very "American South West" landscape. Cactus's studding the dry earth, followed by canyons, rivers, ravines, rust colored hills, lunar looking mountains, all eventually fading into the open desert with the snow covered peaks of the Andes shooting straight over head. "the bus from hell" was anything but that for me.

Uyuni: the starting point to the Solar del Uyuni, the largest Salt Flats in the world. the town itself is nothing special, set up with westernized restaurants and tons or tour companies willing to take 6 people in a land cruiser into the Bolivian country side. My self and 4 other great travelers boarded a 4x4 for a 3 day tour. A great introduction to Bolivia but not a town to spend too much time in.

Solar Del Uyuni: located just 45min. out side the city of Uynui was the begining of a 3 day trip through the county of Potosi. To say the salt flats are beautiful would be an understatement. unfortunately 1/2 of the salt flats were underwater making visiting the island of cactuses impossible, but the piece of the Solar that we were allowed to visit was visually stunning and unbelievably impressive. the reflections off the water of the salt flats made for some beautiful photos and of course a unreal experience. the trip Continues on after the Visiting the Solar and ventures into desert landscape, mountains, salt lakes, lagunas filled with flamingos, sulfuric geysers, hot springs, rivers, and graising land for llamas. Picking a tour operator is the key to this trip and although our operator was not top knotch, our driver was fantastic fixing a busted battery with rubbing alcohol, a pen, and duck tape, and digging us out of a bog with a back pack shovel and laying river stones down for traction, the man was a legend. the tour, the views, the experience was unforgettable.

Sucre: The ride from Uyuni to Sucre did not disappoint as every bus journey in this country seems to be a national geographic episode unfolding outside my bus window. This beautiful town was quite busy, which made it an exciting place to visit. A large food market took center stage for me with heaps of fresh produce along with beautiful Bolivian hot sauces, all hand pounded out of both fresh and dry chilies. the old women in the market more than happy to allow me to taste them all, weather or not the fiery sauces or the street empanadas i greedily stuffed into my face were the culprit of an all day fever, chills, shakes, and being sick, it didn´t matter because both were equally as delicious. Sara, Vix, James, Olie and I (the 4 travelers i have been rolling through norther Argentina and Bolivia with) checked into hostel called Dolce Vida, and Oasis hostel of sorts with beautifully clean rooms and bathrooms and used this as a base to explore this great town.

La Paz: The capital city did not disappoint, set in valley brick homes spring up from the center reaching to the tops of the surrounding hills. the city its self sits in the shadow of massive snow capped mountains and is surprisingly easy to escape, 40min. (traffic free) and you can be lost in the more Bolivian country side, taking a bike ride down the worlds most dangerous road, or doing your best to summit or attempt to summit a 6,000mt mountain. Altitude sickness is not uncommon here and in fact first day arrivers are often bed ridden for a day. I spent 5 days here doing a day on the Most Dangerous Road, wondering the city, and partaking in Bolivian Carnival which is much different than most would imagine, nothing like the ones in Rio.

Most Dangerous Road: Was completely unique experience, in my travels i am constantly relating one town to another or one activity to a similar one i may have had but this was something special. Starting just 1hour from the city center of La Paz the bike ride was about 65 kilometers down hill which starts in/above the cloud line and meanders from the snow line, down into the heat of the low lands and the jungle. through the clouds, past Coca plantations, under water falls, past rivers, from asphalt to gravel road, past land slides, and rural mountain homes i loved every minute of this day. We finished in a river valley and after a great lunch the nearly 4 hour van ride back to La Paz began, but similar to all my bus adventures the ride back to town was just as, if not MORE spectacular than the bike ride down hill. The new death highway (a paved road) touches the tops of mountains, above the cloud line at points, giving you the most spectacular view of the green valley below as well as the chance to stare at the massive peaks which run through the Andean mountain range. Unforgettable and completely unique!

Day Tour Of La Paz: A capital city with all the amenities a capital city would hold, markets, shopping, streets stalls, street food, restaurants, clubs, bars, activities, and of course the most unique prison in the world San Pedro Prison. I spent the first day wondering through markets, visiting plazas and squares, being inspired by the culture of the city. the most unique part of the day is when Sara, Vicky, and I wondered up to the San Pedro Prison to take a look and had the opportunity to talk with a prisoner on day release who described the dynamics of San Pedro in as more detail than we could have ever expected. If you interested in this there is a book called Marching Powder. Basically it is a prison run like a city where you pay for everything, from your cell, to your food, run by prisoners as well as run by generals and guards, a prison where your family can live with you, where cocaine is not only processed and sold from with in but also sold beyond the walls, transported by guards and inmates alike.

La Paz Carnival: simply indescribable, nothing like the scantily clad Brazilian Samba dancing beauties. First of all Bolivia has an obsession with water balloons and super soakers, so a major part of this festival is hosing down anyone who may look dry an comfortable, second of all, fake snow or foam dispensed out of aerosol cans (much resembling shaving cream) is the other obsession and covering "the gringo" is another favorite activity of many locals. Since Carnival lasts around 5 days, a lot of my time was spend dodging the streets which hosted foam and water filled activities. this is not to say i didn´t drop around 45usd (a near fortune in boliviano) to purchase as many cans of foam as possible and throw my self into "the lions den" getting foamed, drenched in water, and equally partaking in the madness. Children, toddlers, seniors, teens, no one is off limits and during the parade which can be as cultured as traditionally dressed dancers or as roughly as teens piling down the streets in what i perceived Halloween costumes everyone gets wet and foamed.... me included.

Copacabana: No, not Brasil, but Bolivia is set on Lake Titicaca the largest lake in South America. A beautiful lake and a rather ramshackle town, I headed out to Isla Del Sol an island where the Incan story of the Sun was crated, staying in a rather basic accommodation perched high above the water, over looking the docks and set into the Terrance hills, three days passed quickly and were a beautiful way to relax after the madness of La Paz Carnival.

Bolivia Email

A photo copy of my passport, $135usd, a small green sticker, and a fresh stamp on my passport and i stumbled into Bolivia after 44 days in Argentina. Similar to many boarders i have crossed in the past year, life on the other side is a world of difference, a difference i was welcoming for some time. the beauty of Patagonia, the chance to visit a penguin colony of nearly a million, the opportunity to explore the most southern tip of the continent, and the pleasure of sipping some great Malbec wines and relaxing in the country side was not a bore, but a change was more than welcome.

The streets were dusty and covered in dirt, the women were dressed in thin soled shoes with a nice little 1/2 inch heel, pleaded skirts, layered woolen sweaters, a "bowler hat" sitting proud on top of their head, with the perceived mandatory Andean satchel strung across their backs woven in the bright color of pinks, reds, blues, and greens carrying anything from the local groceries to a new born baby. The men in their dark colored slacks and similarly woven thick woolen sweaters, their skin much darker, and stained by the high elevation and brutal strength of the high Andean sun. The integrated European roots which is ever so present in Argentina is nearly non existent as Bolivians seem to be shorter, wider, and fit to bear the hard life they have been dished out.

I booked the quickest bus out of Vilizon (the boarder town) I could, not because it didn´t hold Bolivian charm but because I was so excited to see what else this country had to offer. Each bus ride i was privileged with was yet another episode of National Geographic as i stared out the window at endlessly changing landscapes. Cactus studded parched earth, green river beds, canyons, lakes, salt lakes, salt flats, massive mountains, and glacier capped peaks. My naive perception of the Bolivia country side kept me plesantly surprised as each destination left me with another opportunity to be blown away with what this rural country has to offer.

The Solar del Uyuni, the worlds larges salt flats took my breath away. The town of Sucre was small but a lot of fun housing a fantastic food market minutes from my hostel, this was part of the town that i couldn´t get enough of, the new and exciting ingredients and the old women so willing to give you a taste of what they were offering, i loved it.

La Paz and it´s surroundings were a county in them selves, simply an area i couldn´t compare to any other i have visited. Set in a canyon, in the shadow of peaks screaming over 6,000 meter, holding a world famous prison (San Pedro), bursting with what i would consider one of the worlds largest water/foam fights (during Carnival), and offering the opportunity to bike down "the worlds most dangerous road," i had plenty to do and see here (more detail in the blog).

I finished Bolivia in typical Marc fashion... just relaxing. three hours outside La Paz just 30min. from the Peru boarder is the town of Copacabana and the island of the sun (Isla del Sol), a ancient Incan island with some pretty humble (forgettable) ruins. Staying in a rather basic accommodation perched high above the water, over looking the docks and set into the terraced hills, this was a beautiful way to relax after the madness of La Paz Carnival.

My vision of rural South America was far from fulfilled in my travels through Argentina, but the raw and constantly changing Bolivia country side was a sight i will never forget. Seventeen days seemed hardly enough to drink in the culture and landscape. Never having seen the Bolivian Amazon, not getting the opportunity to play and climb in the massive mountains of the Andes, i hope some day i get the chance to return.

Still in the Andes mountains and now in Peru my trip continues to bring me a closer to home. Even though i´m still a bit below the equator, central America is not too far away, and soon after Mexico and the USA.


Bolivian Photos:
http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroBolivia?feat=directlink

Argentina Update

Buenos Aries: The arrival to BA was no sweat, getting into the country was a breeze and when i arrived it was in typical fashion. a long flight, from a cold climate arriving on a hot day, sweating, confused and wanting to just get to my hostel. 1 confusing bus ride took me nearly to the front door of my hostel (lime house) which was located on 9 de Julio street, a good location to be. BA at the time seemed expensive but after traveling the rest of the country i look back and regret not taking advantage of how cheap it really was. food was mostly meat, meat, and more meat, but there was of course variety in there as well. My preconceived notion of south America was that it was a big beach and was hot all year round. as i figured out weeks later that is far from true but my other mental picture was on hot Latin Dance clubs that party till the early morning. As i am not a nigh clue/disco/salsa enthusiast i was not all to excited for this but it was something i had to see. Surprisingly i really enjoyed the 2 clubs i went to, one being a 15 piece percussion (drum) show which consisted of 100s of people on the dance floor, a really fantastic evening which entailed me rocking my baby blue suit, getting overly drunk and getting a greasy hamberger stain on the vest. the other club was less memorable but ended the same way, me passed out in my hostel dorm bed. 9 days disappeared in BA faster than expected, a city that did not have an over whelming South American feel to it, it could have been any city anywhere for that matter but a place i enjoyed and wouldn't mind returning to.

Puerto Madryn: a small 20hr south by bus from BA, this small town caters to a national park on a peninsula which hosts penguins, dolphins, and whale watching, as i arrived on Christmas day the only tour was for a colony of penguins 1hr south which i signed up for since it is a colony of nearly 1million. the city it self was very chill and i would have spent a few days here if i hadn´t already booked my bus ticket out of town from BA which was onward to Ushuaia. the penguins in Puerto Tumbo were great and it may have been expensive but was a great Christmas gift to my self on an otherwise uneventful day.

Ushuaia: the road to the end of the earth was long 32hours on a bus, and you ask was it worth it? this is still a question of mine, but getting there was a journey in it´s self as you watch the landscape change and the excitement builds as you approach the last city on earth. Ushuaia´s claim to fame is that it is the southern most city in the world, sure there are ports in Antarctica but none that can be called a city. the town it´s self caters to tourists as well as to trip to the south pole, i was unbelievably tempted but the 3,000usd for 11days was not so inviting. Instead i took a 2 day trip to the national park and found that to be quite enjoyable despite the rain/snow. 2 nights in a 12 bed bungalow to my self with a wood burning stove was not too bad, walks during the day, wine, fire, and some simple camping food by night. New Years was spent in Ushuaia at the southern most city in the world and really that is the only thing it will be remembered for the evening was quite average and again ended with me in a blue suit sleeping on the hostel couch.... a quick 19hr bus to Puerto Madryn Chile was to follow on Jan 2nd.

El Calafate: After returning from Chile on a 4 day hike i was ready for a nice bed but settled for the cheapest possible since Calafate was well over priced. the main attraction here is the Perito Moreno Glacier which is breath takingly spectacular. 70pesos to get there 75 pesos to get in roughly a 45usd day and that does not include the boat if you wish to float up close to this massive wall of ice (which i didn´t do). it was quite impressive to see one of the worlds only advancing glaciers shed massive chunks of ice as large as a house into the bay which it encroaches on. worth the 5 hours spent there.

El Chalten: 3hrs north of Calafate is a town that sucks you in and drains your wallet but the true beauty is free, the national park which the town is located in. home of the Fitz Roy mountain range, an Iconic Patagonia mountain range which lies just 4 hours (walk) out side town. This i sadly can say i never made it to, it was cloudy, a bit rainy, and windy as hell, so i opted for 2 relaxing days of strolling through the town and chilling in the hostel. bus tickets were already booked in advance as they sell out fast in tourist season and i had to leave 2 days later with out getting to see the mountains. for what it was worth, i kind of had my fill in Torres Del Pines national park in Chile a week earlier so i was quite ok with missing another mt. range. it would have been nice but ya can´t win them all.

Bariloche: set in the mountains, similar to Lake Tahoe or Lake Wanaka (NZ), this quaint but tourist filled town was as you may believe... filled with tourists. I talked to the guest house operators and they explained that i hit a bad year with terrible weather the hiking i had planned was reduced to a bike ride. An 18 kilometer loop weaving in and around a couple of the many lakes in the area i realized where the true beauty of this area lay. where the town occupies the hoards or tourists, it serves its purpose well, keeping the country side beautiful and clean. sure there are a couple of golf courses in the mix and a few hotels which lay in the foot of snow covered mountains but this other wise desolate country side was well worth the time and effort.

Mendoza: The home of some truly beautiful Malbec wines. I met up with two sisters and a great guy from SF and together we took a cab to wine country, rented some bicycles, and hit the tasting road. typically biking and drinking doesn´t mesh so well, but we held it down, visited 3 small wineries, took some tours, did some tastings (and no we didn´t spit), and had a great afternoon in the sun. the city was a bit larger than expected but a great stop to taste some of Argentina's finest.

Cordoba and Salta: A bit of a blur due to the great company I was traveling with, Sara, Vicky, James, and Olie reminded me that i am on vacation and sometimes it means taking a deep breath, having a glass of wine, a beer (or 12), grilling some food, and enjoying a good time. Cordoba being one of the first opportunities i have had on this trip to cook for my self (in a hostel), i took full advantage of the roof top terrace complete with a wood fire Asado (grill). the kitchen was semi equipped and the market down the road had nearly everything i needed.
Fresh and dry chillies ranging in flavors from paprika, to cayenne, and even as sweet as a dyed bell, i had what i needed to make a spicy American style BBQ sauce, and since Argentina is the home of good beef, selecting a familiar cut was all i needed to do. Wood grilled beef, smoked and grilled garlic bread, butter blanched and grilled leaks, cabage- pickeled red onion- poached candied plum- Gorgonzola salad, with a Mendoza malbec sweet wine syrup was what was for dinner the first night and each night was an opportunity to get back in the kitchen and have some more fun. teaming up with these travelers gave me a new breath of travling life. Although Cordoba didn´t really inspire me as a town it was less touristy gave me a new perspective into Argentine culture.

Salta: I quite enjoyed as a city, it was busy with locals going about day to day life, the park in town always had people hanging about, the cafes, and restaurants spilled onto the streets offering the normal Argentine fair of parilla (mixed grill), along with chicken, beef, or cheese filled empanadas. I think i took to this town due to its local busy feel. the bars were fun, the company remained the same, the salta hostel also had a roof top terrace so more bbq was made and beers consumed.

Cabra Corral: the last stop before leaving Argentina was a large set of lakes about 1.5 hours out side of salta. James, Olie, Sarah, Vicky and I rented a car, packed a bit to lightly, forgot bug spray and sun screen and headed out to the lake to camp for a couple of nights. we found a 10ft by 5ft, 6 sided tin shed complete with 4 beds and one on the floor, which sat 20 yards from the lake. three days here was a perfect way to chill before leaving Argentina. i took a few nights off from cooking and the 5 of us enjoyed the lazy days of swimming, getting a bit sun burnt, and chewed up by bugs, while soaking up the scenically beautiful and tranquil rural land scape.

Argentina Email

Argentina............. Seven days in Spain disappeared faster then i could have ever expected, 3 days in Malaga in the south followed by 3 in Madrid, i was hosted by three spectacular people whom shared their homes and lives with me while giving me a bit of a local view of how they live their day to day. My stay was short and to say i have seen Spain would be wrong, in fact all i have seen was a brief glimpse of these fantastic peoples lives and a hope that i can return soon for another delicious tour of a great country. I was taken to the airport by my two new friends and as i hugged them good bye and wondered into the airport i was hit with a cold sweat. The reality set in as i buckled my seat belt and watched the Atlantic ocean pass beneath the plane, behind me lay my amazing experiences throughout Asia, Australia, New Zealand, Turkey, the Middle East, and Morocco. Excited to keep moving, a bit sad about what i have left behind, but day dreaming about what is to come, i let out a bitter sweet smile, i´m heading back to the Americas.

Spending well over a month in Argentina and a brief 6 days hiking in Chile I feel comfortable with the ground i have covered. An enormous country with an amazingly diverse landscape, flying directly into Buenos Aires i posted up for a solid week attempting to learn a bit of Spanish, hitting the Argentine all night Discos, and partaking in what i believe is Argentina's most passionate pass time, eating red meat. I meandered down the east coast stopping here and there until reaching the end of the continent. Ushuaia, Argentina a city located at the end of the earth, the closest city to the south pole and the starting point to the final frontier.... Antarctica. I couldn´t wrap my head around paying $3,000usd for an 11day boat trip but one day when i have the cash i´ll be "checking the box" and hopping on that boat down south.

After a week in Ushuaia i boarded my first bus of many to come, the direction was heading was north, and so it will continue until i hit the good old USA. Hopping in and out of Chile I was fortunate to have 4 great days hiking in some of Patagonia's most spectacular landscapes, visiting a breath taking glacier (perito moreno), and picking my way north north north up through Argentina into the Lake Tahoe-esk landscape of Bariloche, Wine Country in Mendoza, through Cordoba, on to Salta, and will soon be heading into Bolivia.

As February is now upon us i can´t help but think about the countries that have passed, the 17months that i leave behind, and the exciting future that lay ahead. Sadly a major destination i was hoping to hit, Machu Picchu has suffered some serious flooding and mud slides and the reality is that I might not be able to visit it. Missing out on most of Chile, and all of Brazil is another regret but being blessed with such a fantastic opportunity to have seen what i have seen, it is hard to say i have missed out on anything. As i begin to creep north i´m excited about my return home, but by no means will my last few months be rushed. Excited to see all of you when i return but can´t wait to explore the countries to come!

Sippin' Coffee in Fes

i got into Fes at 5am it was dark cold and raining, it was absolutely miserable out and i had no clue where i was in relation to the city. I pulled my bag out from under the bus and scurried under an over hang where i noticed the rest of the disembarking passengers were. i took a deep breath and sighed, i looked at the rain and thought, what to do? i watched the rain fall for a few minutes took notice to how wet my jacket was for only being out side for such a short moment, i looked at my pack and that was wet too, i continued to think, what to do as now i began to shiver.
i noticed across the way there was a large building with a light on. the name was in french and i hand no idea of what it meant. i soon I noticed people with bags running towards another far away building in the rain, others were being dropped off near by in taxis. was it the bus station, i wasn't sure but i picked up my bag and made a run for it. upon entering i noticed all the seats to wait were full and it was not a bus station but a train station. i saw a few people sitting on the floor and i took my spot, now even more wet, and still cold, i sat on the tile floor. Although i knew it would not be approved of, i took out my sleeping bag anyway, unzipped it and covered my self, my camera bag and my pack and drifted off to a much needed 2 hour sleep.

I was woken by a guard who was peaking french, i replayed "no pali vu france" and in English he quickly told me "you can't sleep here, where are you going" he asked. i knew there was a 6:50am train to Marrakesh and glancing at the clock i saw it was 7am, "marrakesh" i said, "you just missed it" the guard replied "but there is 1 in a hour" he told me, as i pretended to look confused, "well i guess i'll head back to my hotel," i said as i packed up my sleeping bag and slowly made my way out the door. I was intending to stay in Fes the whole time but was happy to dodge the unpleasant conversation with a disgruntled guard for sleeping on the floor.

I hopped a cab to Ba bou Jaulad, it was my first meter taxi i have had on this whole trip and god i was it bliss to not have to bargain for a ride. i arrived around 730am and it was still dark and cold but the rain has reduced to a drizzle and i was thankful for that. I wondered down the narrow streets of Fes which very much reminded me of the ones of varranasi, minus the cows, shit, and poverty of course. There were new smells, dark allies, wet cobbled roads, not wide enough for a car, but big enough for a donkey to push through with a small cart. My old worn out shoes were soaked and i slowly wondered through the semi empty streets.

Where sight of narrow streets and covered pathways reminders me of india, the chill, the smell of wood fires burning, those brought me staring back to New Zealand, being blessed with many cold autum/winter days in NZ my mind began to wonder as i started to think of the snowy peaks and warm fires. I snapped back into reality and continued on squishing through the old city of Fes in my soggy shoes. Nearly an hour later i could feel the weight of my pack on my shoulders and hips, slightly frustrated that i speak neither french nor arabic i realised i was helplessly lost and no set of directions in a foreign language was going to help me. i made my way to an exit of the old city and payed yet another meter taxi to drop me back off at where i had started.

The rain began to pick up slowly as i reentered at Ba Bau Jelad for a second time. it's time likes these that you miss the people and places you love and are familiar with. stores and hotel doors are now beginning to open and i dropped my bag in one of the first that i looked at, being cheaper than Marrakesh, i was happy to settle and attempt to dry out for a bit.

i was still cold but at this point i was hungry as well and had to find some food. i began to wonder down the same narrow street i was on an hour ago and sat down at cafe which caught my nose, dark roasted coffee drew me in, and the struggles of the early morning began to fade. After a 12hr bus ride that chilled me to the bone and my morning hotel hunt that coffee was a perfect way to start. Now smiling again, I followed the coffee with a lamb and egg tajine, dripping with fat i soaked it all up with a loaf of fresh bread, feeling overly guilty about the year i just took off my life (due to the saturated fat i just drank) my eyes began to wander and watch the cafes across the way as they were absolutely filled. not offering food, many customers were purchasing bread, friend dough rings, and a roti-like snack from other vendors and just sitting down for a single glass of mint tea or a cup of coffee. they sat for hours just watching people pass by, some in groups occasionally talking and some alone just content to be there.

i ate my breakfast and went for a walk, an hour later returning to the same street wondering past the same cafe patrons, as they may have watched me eat breakfast across the way, they may also have watched me wonder past, just watching life drift past, i thought how odd.

Fes really didn't take to me, and maybe it was because i arrived 2 days after the largest Holiday of the year, a holiday which actually lasts a week, where every family slaughters a sheep or a goat, in memory of Abraham who set to the mountain top to kill his son (a sheep was slaughtered instead) so once a year this biblical tale is reenacted. When i think about it my most interesting time in Fes was wondering down the empty streets alone at 730am the morning i arrived. wondering through shoulder width streets, walking past stacks and stacks of folded sheep skins left on the side of the road from the day before, i walked past a Fes city garbage truck which was a donkey with an enormous basket tied to it's back. simply walking the empty streets. i was helplessly lost, slightly bothered but couldn't help but be fascinated with this new city i was forced to explore so early in the morning.

As the city began to wake and the shops open up i struggled to find the charm, the narrow streets became cluttered with people, the old wooden doors decorated in brass studs were covered in cheap clothing, and touristy nick knacks, the serenity was lost. i found my self intentionally getting lost in hopes to find a more unique Fes and never did. of course more streets than not are only traveled by locals, tourists stick to the main paths, but for some reason i was just not into it.
Two full days of Fes and i was done, if i had a guide, a mentor, a local to show me the ins and outs maybe i would have stayed longer but as for this trip i felt like it was time to move on. the next morning, 2 hours before i had to leave i strolled down that same narrow street one more time to grab a bite to eat. i observed the locals the past 2 days and was interested in what they have been snacking on, looking to save a buck or two i followed suit and lined up at a popular morning food stand. i ordered some porous bread backed in a large cast iron skillet almost like a pancake along with a flaky roti style bread, all drizzled with honey.
my breakfast was wrapped in deli paper and i carried it to the closest coffee shop. sipping a black coffee followed by a big glass of hot mint tea, morning traffic passed me by, the milk man delivering 5 gallon seal drums wheeled by me on a bicycle as a donkey loaded with 10+ propane tanks all strapped to it's back trotted past as well. it was cool morning and before the sun came up i could see my breath. i gripped my coffee tight in my bare hand to warm it up as i nestled my back against my seat and rested my head on the wall. more people began to pass and an hour later with an empty glass i realised why people come to these cafes for a simple morning coffee and stay for an afternoon tea. It is simply joying a timeless day, with nothing better to do, why not enjoy it in the sun. as many people back home camp out on the couch and watch the "tube," i realized is much the same. the morning passed quickly as i realised i had 20min. to catch my bus to Chefcheaoun, i better get going.

Morocco update

photo link: http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroMorocco#

Morocco:
My flight from Cairo was direct into Casablanca, I had heard from other travelers that Casablanca was not all that interesting, the industrial and financial capital of Morocco and was easily forgettable. I took their advice and when arriving at 1am i took a seat in the lobby and waiting out the night until the 6am train would take me away to Marrakesh. A bit tired from the flight, definitely feeling the affects of sleeping on a metal airport/train station chair, i boarded my 5hr train with hopes a comfortable soft seat, a bit of solitude, and a window to look out. I got the soft seat, although it was in a cabin with two others and the window to look out was blazing hot as the sun was baking my side of the train car. I regret not taking out my camera as I cruised ancient homes placed which seemed to me in the middle of know where, the soil was red and full of rocks but it was being farmed none the less. The paddocks for grazing animals were formed not by fences or rock walls but by rows of dense green cactus all linked together. the hills and land rolled on, the sky was blue, and the sun was hot. I dosed off to sleep and woke hungry, i was in Marrakesh.

Marrakesh: The large square located in the old city is no doubt the main attraction of the city. As all major Moroccan cities, there is a modern section filled with your fast food, banks, gas stations, modern hotels, and shopping malls, but the Cities that draw the tourist crowds also have a touch of the past still living in them. For Marrakesh it's the old Souk and the Giant Square which comes to life every day around 10am and goes to sleep around midnight. Snake charmers, fortune tellers, story tellers, gypsies, beggars, scatter them selves across this large public space, but people don't come for that, although it does add ambiance and excitement. they come come for the shopping and the food. With small narrow passage ways branching off from the square i got lost here for hours wandering in and out, looking at spices, fabrics, weird looking shoes, amongs tons of other touristy items. No matter how far i strayed from the center, i was always pulled back because around 5pm the Assembly of an enormous out side restaurant was the high light for me.

Teradaount: a small town located about 4 hours south west of Marrakesh was a interesting stop, I had an inflated bus ticket price due to the national holiday, the bus i was on stopped in another city 1 hour from the my location and i was forced to get a shared taxi from there for the remainder of my trip, amazingly confusing but full of culture and surprises, one surprise being a sheep jumping out of the trunk of the shared taxi when the door was opened to put bags in... didn´t expect that. The city was small but i stayed with a family in their home and it was very peaceful and a wonderful way to experience real culture and see the city through a locals eyes.

Marrakesh to Merzouga: I was forced to pay for a tour to get to Merzouga due to the inflated bus prices and the lack of buses to the area i wanted to go. instead i purchased an over priced tour but got the reap the benefits of spending a bit more money and traveled in comfort in a van with other travelers, got my own bedroom in a nice hotel with a fantastic shower and big bed. We stopped a couple of sights that i would have never seen on a bus, overall i was happy i took the tour. On the day of the big slaughter where all Moroccans (Muslims) kill a sheep my bus passed by home after home where you could see this happening in plain view of the public. It is a holy act and is not something they are embarrassed of and i got to see it all. i´m not a blood thirsty killer but i think it was important to see and experience where your food comes from. if your willing to eat meat you should be accepting of how it gets on your plate. It was another experience i would have never had, had i booked a simple bus ticket.
the tour continued on to Merzouga where we exited our van and were rushed onto Camels, i named mine Carl and the small group headed out into the Sahara desert. I had purchased a beer a day back so i cracked it open and sipped my beer while sitting camel back in the Sahara, i passed it to my fellow travelers and all took in the views while slowly pushing through the desert. the experience was NOT comfortable, camels and the male anatomy don´t mix so well, but overall it was fantastic and wouldn´t take it back for anything. camping below a 15oft dune was amazing and watching the stars drift past me at night was unforgettable. highly recommended.

Fes: The streets, the chaos, the coffee shops were all fun, but over all i was not too impressed with the old city, it might be that i compared it to Marrakesh or the insanity of Varanasi India which it reminds me of, but i enjoyed two days here and called it quits.
Chefchaouen: the blue city, set in the hills of the Rif mountains are unbelievably gorgeous, the homes are all painted in blue, the streets narrow, but built on the hill the view of the city changes as you climb higher or lower. Heading out on the neighboring hills you can look back and see the city from a far and it almost looks like scattered pieces of a mosaic with blues and reds smashed together creating a collage which makes up the city. A mountain town with plenty of water a major crop harvested is weed, and hash is pushed on you relentlessly, in fact i would say it is absolutely impossible NOT to be offered hash 10 to 15 times a day if you walked in and out of the city. ¨how is your day? where are you from? so you need anything?¨ ¨NO, i don´t NEED ANYTHING¨ ¨are you sure, like you don´t need hash¨ ¨NOPE I DON´T NEED HASH¨ ¨are you sure you don´t need any, are you sure¨ and that is how your day is spent if you decide to stay in the city walls. I climbed out side, sat in the country side and took a nap in a field, one day, peaceful and quite. Minus the minor nuisance of the hash pushers, this city is pure gold and was one of my favorites.

Tangier: On arrival i thought that the place held little to no charm, but the deeper i wondered the more i found and was happily content with killing a couple of days here. Coffee shops, the old city, narrow streets, fried fish dishes, a smashed butter bean soup with a healthy scoop of real cold press olive oil, roasted chicken tossed in a special Moroccan seasoning, and some Internet is what i got involved with here. Not my favorite and in fact if i wasn´t killing time before entering Spain (to reduce the amount of euro i was about to spend) i could have only spent a day here, but not upset i spent .
Morocco was a good place to come, one i can see my self coming back to, the cuisine is simple but Delicious, tajines (braised meat dishes normally) is soul warming food, simple but good. I caught the ferry across the straight of Gibraltar and headed to Malaga Spain.

Morocco Email

Yet another Muslim country passes me bye and i havn´t realized how far from home i really am until i crossed the straight of Gibraltar on my two hour ferry, picked up my back pack and wondered into the Spanish Ferry Port. I looked for some food right away and noticed a deli of sorts, it hit me right away, i´m in Spain and there is chorizo, serrano and iberico ham to be eaten, being starved of pork in the Muslim countries i was quite excited. I quickly headed into to buy my self a sandwich and remembered how poor my Spanish skills really are, ¨una sandwich pequeno, con jamon y queso por favor¨ (one small sandwich with ham and cheese please), and then the questions came back in spanish which made little to no sense at all to me, since i didn´t even order the ¨sandwich¨in Spanish and just said ¨sandwich,¨ but i got my food and was happily on my way to the bus station to catch the next one out to the city of Malaga. Another interesting conversations in extremely poor Spanish and I had purchased my ticket and sat waiting for my bus. I looked up and noticed the decorations, i took the earphones out and listened to the music, it´s Christmas time!!! A holiday which doens´t exist in the countries i most recently traveled, Christmas was in my face and i laughed thinking about how different the two worlds are simply separated by a narrow strip of sea.

18 days in Morocco was enough for me, it is a country i can see my self returning to simply because of its close location to Europe and the flavors and food which i have enjoyed. My journey started in Marrakesh and was forced to take a rather unusual rout due to a major festival which grabs a hold of this country and nearly brings it to a crippling halt. In honor of a biblical story where Abraham slaughters a sheep in sacrifice to God (instead of his son), every Moroccan (Muslim family) kills a sheep or goat once a year. I was blessed with traveling the country when all buses, taxis, donkey carts, trains, and camels are booked solid but also had the privilege to witnessing this festival unfold in front to me as i slowly drove past a couple of small downs the day of the slaughter. A bit gruesome to see them killed, bleed, skinned, hung, and butchered all in public. I didn´t mind seeing it, as I am, and always have been a person who eats meat. I think the neat and clean packages stacked in our supermarkets filled with boneless, skinless, animal products are completely unrepresentative of what your are actually consuming, it makes us, at least me, forget that an animal had died and possibly lived a shitty life so i can stuff my fat face. I´m not going vegetarian on ya-all here (sorry to disappoint some) but i was happy to be reminded of how it all goes down.The hills of Morocco were beautifully peaceful as the Sahara desert was much of the same. I avoided riding an elephant while in Thailand due to cost and my disbelief that the animals were even marginally content with the life's they are forced to life. All though i feel partially the same with Camels i found it nearly irresistible to avoid sitting camel back and riding in the the endless sand dunes of the Sahara desert. A two hour, ball breaking ride (literally... quite painful) and my small group arrived at camp where we spent the night watching start pop over the massive 150ft dune we were camping under. From the busy markets of Marrakesh to the tight twisted alleys in Fes, to the colorful but quite streets Chefchaouen and the desolate Sahara desert i felt like i covered a fair bit of ground in a short while.

Morocco is a colorful place filled with culture and the last stop on the long twisted silk road which i have been traveling on and off for the past 15 months of my life. As a chef wondering into the spice markets in Marrakesh i smiled thinking about the distance i have traveled and the familiar sights i saw bottled up in front of me, star anis, galanga, lemon grass, cumin, coriander, different chili varieties, cinnamon, white pepper, black pepper, juniper, all spice, mace, green cardamom, black cardamom, along with the many others i couldn´t even identify. The flavors of the old world collected along the way passing in caravan style from Pacific Ocean and Beijing through Central Asia, into the middle east, across North Africa, dispersing across the Mediterranean into Europe or eventually making its way to the Atlantic here in Morocco. A world of flavor sat in front of me, and just like all those flavors, i´ll soon be heading across the ocean as well. Sitting now in Madrid Spain after arriving two days ago, eating tapas with some new friends, cooking dinner for some others, watching a Soccer match in a 50,000 person stadium last night, and waking up to snow on the cars this morning, i am currently waiting for my flight to Buenos Aries Argentina. I´ve been thinking about all the ground i have covered up until this point and it amazes me how far i have come. One last long air plane ride across the Atlantic Ocean puts me back in the Americas, just one step closer to home, with a few thousand miles of solid traveling ahead of me i´m ready to tackle one last continent.

Leaving Siwa

Some times it takes leaving an place to realize how beautiful, unique, or special it really is, Siwa Oasis was that kind of place for me.
My last morning is when I realized how great Siwa is, it's not necessarily the most beautiful, not the cleanest, and the accommodation didn't blow me away, the simplicity of life, the relaxed atmosphere and of course the people is what I missed in Siwa before I even left.

I woke early to get together some breakfast before Preston and I set out on our three day jeep caravan across the desert, I had already dialed in where to go for some good food. It was around 6:30am and there were more people than normal stirring about. I wandered down the dusty, sand filled street past a few donkey carts, a couple more passed me as I smiled at the man in the coffee shop, which is where I would be sitting at if I had just one more day.

I walked by a shop keeper who smiled at me as I passed, happy to see I was out and about with the locals. The street turnerd to mud and I tiptoed down the ally shoulder to shoulder with a young kid whom insisted speaking arabic to me, I smiled and nodded both of us knowing dame well I didn't have a clue what he was saying but we both laughed at the lack of communication.


Iron bars hung in the window of a crumbling old building, painted in faded pastels of yellow and blue. In front of the bars were 4 men dressed in robes and head scarves waiting for the same thing me and my young friend came to get, fresh pita. The bread came piping hot out of the oven and one by one the men in front of me scurried away smiling with stacks and stacks of hot bread. I picked up 5 pieces for a whopping 4cents and strolled back down the alley chomping away at my morning snack. The shop keeper who acknowledged me earlier winked and nodded his head in approval as I slowly made my way to my next stop.

The falafel stand selling a roasted eggplant salad with tomato and chillis and of course felafel. The gentleman behind the counter recognized me as this was my third time to his shop and greeted me with Asalaam Alekium (may peace be upon you) and my response Alekium A Salaam (upon you may there be peace). Picked out my falafel and grabbed some eggplant salad and walked back to meet preston with breakfast.

Picking up our case of water we purchased for our desert excursion the man at the coffee shop offered us a free ride to our jeep and we happily declined as it was only 100 yards away. The sleepy town was slowly coming to life as we were passed by more of the popular local transport, 2 wheeled carts pulled by donkeys, the character and charm of this slow moving town was trotting past us as we made our way to the 4x4 that would soon be home for the next few days.

Exiting siwa we cruised through small dirt roads just wide enough for a donkey cart and our 4x4 to fit through, small date trees which can be mistaken for palms lined the road creating a bit of shade in the early morning heat. The jeep picked up speed as we rolled to the edge of town and began to cruised at a steady 45mph. We passed over a large dirt causeway Which split one large salt lake into two. We drove for a few minutes watching the water go from a deeper blue to a shallow tourquise and eventually evaporating into the salt lined desert floor which I would soon be driving through for days. I looked ahead to see what was in front of us and the jeep rolled to a Stop, the road forked, the lakes, dates, and Siwa were all behind me. I glanced down the road to the left to see a narrow stretch of pavment reaching as far as the eye can see. My jeep turned right and as my eyes shifted to the windscreen infront of me, where the view pretty much remained the same and the 7 of us in the jeep sped off into "the great sea of sand."

...we stopped for the night amongst sand and odd shaped rock formations, I look up at the sky and the stars made me remember how small I really am. Stepping away from the camp fire and the glow of the camping light which illuminates the large mat my self and the 5 others will be sleeping on, I stop for a moment and allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. My shoes are off and I can feel the soft sand between my toes. Preston has already laid out a mat and is on his back taking in the view. On a moonless night by the light of the stars I peer out into the desert to see a a rugged landscape and even more stars creeping up over the horizon. I took my place on the cool sand laying on my back a few feet from Preston enjoying the silence and peace of the desert night. One can get lost in thought out here, lost in imagination, and easily lost marveling over the simple beauty of the desert. The silence was broken by the soft song being sung by our guide in Arabic, I sat up and caught a whiff of the nights dinner being cooked over a wood fire. I took in one last eye full of stars and began to grin because here I was miles from home watching the stars pop over the horizon in the Egyptian desert, life is good. I followed my nose back to the camping mats and looked forward to warm dinner on this cool desert night.

Egypt update

Not many roads comprise this country, it is a huge area with lots of empty land, sand dunes do not roll on as far as the eye can see as i once though, but the desert is large and can be perceived as endless when sitting out in the middle of it on a starry night. The Oasis towns are particularly interesting, some not so pleasant, but remarkable to see where people settled simply because of water and an underground spring. An ancient country with beautiful ruins, museums and history that can keep you busy for years, i enjoyed Egypt and was impressed with how friendly the people remain considering the millions of tourists whom plow through there country each year.



As it has been for thousands of year the Nile river valley provides almost all the land to sustain life and it's this narrow stretch of land that gets tramped by tourists day in and day out. Some visitors complain about being ripped off, scammed, or hassled by aggressive Egyptians, i say deal with it or don't come! Egypt for me was a good time!




Cairo: a bustling city of millions trapped with both old and new world ideas, farm land still being used along the nile river, prime real estate that strong willed locals refuse to give up. There is the urban sprawl of Giza which pushes up just a few feet from the entrance to the great pyramids and the sphinx. Donkey's and Camels still exist just a few miles from the city center along side tall buildings and consumer driven locals. The current direction of Cairo is apparent while the history and past has been put on display in the Cairo Museum.
I enjoyed the pyramids which can be reached in a simple day trip, i was amazed at how close to the city they actually are and surprised in how many people roam the desert attempting to sell you crap. i was a bit taken back when a police man asked me for a tip when he pointed me in the same direction i was heading and also surprised when i told him to piss-off and he just smiled.

Siwa: just about 50 miles from the Lybia boarder this sleepy little Oasis was a awesome place to chill for a few days. there is a fair bit to see and do, from sand boarding, to bike rides, to 4x4ing on the dunes, swimming in the hot springs, or wandering through the date plantations. the town is filled with 2 wheeled carts that are pulled by donkeys, it's how kids get to school, local restaurant delivery are made or just a way to get from point A to point B, donkey carts were everywhere.
being so isolated the town was quaint, quiet, and relaxing, it was also a dry (no booze), so my plan to drink tequila and ride around on a cart with a long stick and a thin rope with a carrot tied to the end (my cartoon vision of some obsucre life someone mayh have had) with my buddy Preston was foiled by the lack of "juice." probably a good thing but i'm sure it would have made for a good story. Siwa was a good place, about a 12hr bus from Cairo and the starting point to my desert tour.

Baharia, Black Desert, White Desert: Leaving Siwa in a 4x4 we were heading to Baharia another small Oasis town in the middle of nowhere. 450klm later we arrived in town after rolling for hours through the sand and bumpy roads. Baharia was not a place to go and hang out, not much going on but a ok place to stop for a cold beer after a long drive, unfortunately my guide wasn't havin' any of that and out to the desert we went to camp for the night.
Black Desert was nice to drive through but really not as interactive as the White. the white was filled with odd shaped mineral deposits which were left behind by evaporating water, as 1000's of years ago it was once the ocean floor. Shells line the desert as well reflecting the light of the sun to give you this truly odd glare. we camped in the white desert which was fantastic and would recommend doing for at least one full day and night, it was a cool place to drive through.

Aswan and Abu Simbal: Aswan was the middle point for a day trip to Abu simbal and a boat ride up the nile in a faluca all in one day. Up at 3am we got in a bus to about 100 miles from the Sudan boarder to see one of Egypts national treasures. a Monument which they cut up into large stone section and moved to a new location due to rising water from the Aswan dame. Impressive that people could build such structures 4000 years ago and equally impressive to see that it can be moved and a whole fake mountain created to house it. Personally i found it to be a bit far and if given the choice again may have passed on trekking all the way down here to get to it.
we hopped back on the bus drove 3.5 hours back through the desert to Aswan where we boarded a Faluca (boat) which powered by the wind took me and a 5 other travelers up river where we camped for the night. This i would have done for 2 nights but foolishly only paid for 1.

Luxor: Karnak Temple was and impressive religious sight and daunting to walk though. i found comprehending its age and its elaborate design to be near impossible. Valley of the Kings left me feeling the same way. The Knowledge of the Ancient Egyptians and their ability to build such things is very very impressive. while here i was also fortunate to celebrate the victory of an Egyption soccer match against algeria which pushed for a play off (which they lost days later) to get into the world cup. Preston and I were having a cold beer on the roof top of the hostel when we heard the explosion in the streets, cars were honking their horns, screaming and shouting. we ran down to the street knowing exactly what had happened and joined in on the celebration. An hour later i had found my self, riding 3 deep on a mortorcycle, standing on the roof of a few cars, mini vans, and taxis along with countless other Egyptions screeming EEEEEEEEEEEGYPT on top of my lungs. Hi-fivin' locals, shakin' hands and kissin' babies.... it was a lot of fun to see how well we were recieved for cheering for the home team, an experience to say the least.


Back in Cairo, Preston and I chilled out for a few days, ate some good local food and preparied to part ways. me on to Morocco and him down to Tanzania. I enjoyed my stay in egypt.

Egypt Email

Time is moving faster than ever!

December 3rd will mark 15 months on the road, god i can't believe it and never would have if you told me this before i had left. Do i miss home a lot of people have recently asked? Well sure, how can you not, but i don't think it's my physical home that i miss more than life being simple, knowing where i will be that day, knowing how i'll get there, and where i'll be laying down for the night. I miss the simple things like opening up the refrigerator and making my self a meal, washing my own cloths in a washing machine that actually works, having a day off. i know that sounds crazy, i have had 15 months off (more or less), but a day in my home, any home where i can type on my computer, see friends, talk on the phone, watch some mindless television, or even just get in the car and go for a drive, those are things i miss.

My Camera lens broke a few counties back and fixing it has proven to be tough than expected. my camera bag/day bag has broken zippers, i have sewed all my shorts because tears are happening more frequently now, i hopped a barbwire fence in New Zealand to take a photo and sure enough i tore those pants as well. My shoes, well, they are melting off my feet as we speak and i'm amazed that they still stay on, i'm on my 9th pair of flip flops, and my hat collect more filth by the day. the cloths i have are sun faded and a bit raggedy but they'll make the journey home just like i will. My body can feel the affects of time as well, over night buses which were once a great way to skip out on a nights rent in a hostel are now getting painful and although i do eat well the constant change of diet isn't always pleasant on the stomach. Regardless, change, challenges, and variety are the spice of life and it's still a happy life i live.

regardless of the condition of the cloths, the gear i carry, random cravings for a everyday life, and the occasional back pain from long distance travel, Egypt the country i just visited has flown by faster than i have ever expected, in fact time is moving faster now than it ever has before. twenty three days of museums, pyramids, temples, boats, trains, and deserts has made thinking about home near impossible. As I have missed my friends and family since the day i left, i have also met some amazing people in the process including a fantastic American whom i had the pleasure of traveling Egypt with (Preston). Although all of you are on my mind, a trip like this does not come everyday and the excitement of new countries and tasty food is still pushing me forward. Amazingly the thrill of travel has yet to grow old and as i glanced at a calendar today to check the date, look at flights, and plan for the future my heart nearly sank when i realized that 2009 is coming to a rapid end, it has been a brilliant eye opening year, and i'm STILL HUNGRY FOR MORE!!!

The Heat of the desert is visible as you peer off across the sand, the sun is high and the hair on top of your head feels like it is going to burst into flames. There are few dunes but you are surrounded with sand and you look off in the distance and you can see a faint patch of green, it's a Oasis. As you approach with a parched mouth, sun burnt hands and a scarf wrapped around your face to shield you from the elements you notice that it was all a just a marriage...

Well, thankfully i never experience this feeling but the thought of an Egyptian desert Oasis was something i needed to scratch an itch for. Thinking back when i was a child and seeing movies and cartoons that depict these romantic locations i was curious to see how they truly are. In reality most of them are far from pleasant but Siwa a mere 50 miles from the Lybia Boarder was quite a nice surprise, date trees lined the side of the road, carts pulled by donkeys were equally as popular as cars or motor bikes, life moves slow and i was happy to soak that up while i had a chance. I moved quickly through Egypt but it was at Siwa where me and Preston got to settle down briefly and experience desert life as it slowly rolled past us in the form of a donkey cart. As the rest of Egypt was as expected filled with must visit tourist sights, Siwa and the desert was that slice of something different that i really enjoyed.

Moving faster than i normally would have, Egypt pasted me by in the blink of an eye. Driving through the desert for 3 days, hitching rides in a flat bed truck, swimming in an Oasis fresh water spring, sleeping on a faluca (Egyptian sail boat) on the Nile, visiting the pyramids, luxor, valley of the kings along with other national monuments was great they were a must, something i had wanted to see since i was a kid and i was happy to finally experience what they are truly like.

PHOTO LINK:

http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroEgypt?feat=directlink

Entering Syria

I wake up in my dingy bedroom roughly 8feet by 10feet and am wondering what i was doing here. to get to this point in Turkey i was coming from Malatya where i purchased the wrong bus ticket, after a game of charades at the bus station trying to explain in English to the non-english speaking Turkish bus attendant that i wanted to go to Antakya not Goziantep, i gave up and sat quietly on the bus until it rolled to a stop 3 hours later. More charades ensued and i got my point across, i was out to the boarder town and arrived at 8:40pm.

I hate these towns, filled with scammer, con artists, and people just trying to make a buck, i typically dismiss them and head across the boarder as quickly as i can but this was different, this was Syria and i know that as an American i had some waiting around to do at the boarder (to obtain a visa) and didn't want to show up late at night and turn it into a overnight stay. Forced to enjoy my last night in Turkey i wandered around eating some more Kebabs before dragging my sorry ass back to my terrible little room. I woke at 7:00am and walked out to the taxi/bus stop and was assaulted by taxis offering me outrageous prices for a ride to Aleppo, Syria. Ignoring them i took a stroll to a huge fruit and veg market getting lost in the screaming and shouting and chaos of the market. I picked up some baked goods knowing my next few hours may be long and painful and headed back to the buses, where i purchased my ticket and was off.

It is rummered that Americans can wait up to 9hours for a visa, just getting to the boarder after 9am, could take up to 4 hours of bumper to bumper traffic, so getting on my bus early was a must. As I pulled out of town i looked out my window at the shops to see spinning chicken and lamb kebabs, rotating whole chickens over coal fires, a man selling Simits (bread) on a large wood platter carrying it on his head, i soaked up the last minutes of Turkey and began to prepare for what lay ahead.



40 minutes on the bus and i watch the scenery change driving from city, to small towns, through olive grooves and finally out to the rural country side, i look up at the rocky hills and immediately notice a Guard Towers perched overlooking the valley. my eyes followed the landscape down which opened up to fields that eventually lead to the side of the road where weathered concrete pillars held countless strands of old rusty barbwire. A few miles down the road the rusted barbwire was accompanied by fresh barbwire and more guard towers, i took a wild guess, i must be getting closer to Syria. The bus drove on and i can see the frame of an old broken down stone building, seconds later we rolled under a big red sight that said "Good Bye," i was leaving Turkey and heading into the middle east.



The bus stops and the 14 passengers are ushered off in an unknown directions. No one speaks english but true to all countries you need a exit stamp so i cued up as the others foolishly walked past the long lines. minutes later i was through the line waiting for my fellow passengers who just then had realized they needed an exit stamp. Now back on the bus crossing over "no mans land" (neutral zone) and on to a large building where yet another much anticipated game of charades would be followed by the painfully long visa process. I got lucky, I was assisted by a Syrian man who was attempting to get his Turkish friend through the same process, neither of us had visas, but for me it was a bit of a gamble, where for him it was simply time. At first i thought i would be in and out in no time at all, my Syrian friend was being overly helpful, but then all of a sudden everything came crashing to a halt, the power turned off. As if this is a common occurrence everyone quietly walks away from the crowded visa window, i was next up and was hesitant to sit down but following the others i too shuffled away as there was nothing i could do but wait. I wait patiently by my self, thinking where the hell am I? Thinking how on earth can the power go out at a military base, a boarder crossing? More people begin to come in, more tour buses arrive and i begin to get overly anxious, i begin to fidget waiting for the sign of power to bring life back into this building. 30min. later i saw the flicker of a light, the fan started to tic and pick up speed, the quite stale air burst into a sweaty frenzy as we all dash forward pushing towards the window. i lost out in my spot by one position but quickly payed by 16usd, got my much needed paper stamped and ran over to yet another officer for more question and answer on why i'm coming to Syria. NOW that the waiting game began.

I sat for 1 hour, 2 hours, my bus had left me as all the other passengers had their visas in 30 minutes, i watched crowds of people come and go, a full building of commuters, boarder crossers filling the room and then draining back out. More buses showed up and Arabs all pushing each other back and forth holding there green USD in their hands and screaming in an unfamiliar language, to pay there stamp fee and get thier visas. It was a scene out of the every day life of a wall street stockbroker but instead of buying stock all they wanted was to get in front of the next guy in line and make their way across the boarder, i sat and watched in amazement truly observing a culture I had never seen before.



More buses come and go and i sit longer, i sit on my back pack, i sit on the ground amongst the stale cigarette butts, spilled chai (tea), i sit amongst the flies which relentlessly land on any piece of exposed skin. As if waiting wasn't torture enough, the flies certainly increased my insanity levels. 3, 4, 5 hours tick by and finally a man comes and gets me, hands me the passport and pushes me towards another line.
An Arab man with a thick black mustache and a tan uniform sat behind the desk blankly looking at me, cigarette hanging between his lips with a long cone of ash still clinging on as it continues to burn longer. he grabs my passport and begins clicking away at the computer. a cup of chai on his left and a large fat immigration guard on his right methodically flipping through passports stamping them, then throwing them into a pile. sweat dripping off his round face onto the desk or what ever he was working on. I looked back to the man with my passport continuously clicking away, i looked up at the lights on the ceiling and all i can think is please let the power hold out for another minute or two. Again, back to my cigarette smoking immigration officer to see the long ash had hit the desk next to my passport, but this didn't matter because in his hand was an inked up stamp, he smacks it down on an already cluttered passport page. No smile, tight lips, dark eyes, and a thick black mustache, he looks at me and nods his head as he passes it over through the window..... I'm IN.