Route Map and Current Location


View South America Tour in a larger map

December 15, 2008

Water

Smug chuckles rumble around the Coca-Cola boardroom. The latest global sales figures for Dasani bottled tapwater have just come in. "I still can't believe our stupid customers actually buy this stuff." "We should get a box of donuts sent down to those geniuses in marketing." "And while we're at it, I think we execs deserve another payrise and performance bonuses all-round."

How irratonal it is that so much effort and investment in [so-called] developed countries has gone into providing a potable domestic water supply, only for 99% of it to be used for flushing toilets, watering the lawn etc. And then people still go out and buy bottled drinking water, most of which is just packaged tapwater anyway. (Ok, maybe the bottled variety doesn't have the chlorine, but it's no big deal to let tapwater stand in the fridge overnight and let the chlorine escape.)

Imagine the feelings of a Zimbabwean family who'd just lost two children to cholera because the only water available to them is contaminated with sewage, if they were to see someone hosing their driveway with pure, clear, drinkable tapwater whilst swigging from a bottle of Dasani that would have cost them half a day's pay.


The way we in Western countires take potable tapwater for granted has really come home to me on my travels through Latin America, where millions of people are not so fortunate. I've met other cylists who drink the tapwater wherever they are, though I have not been quite so cavalier, tending the follow the example of the locals - if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me, although I may get sick occassionally as I don't have their level of resistance to any bugs that may be present. As I can get through 8 litres of water day, this approach has saved a lot of money and plastic waste.

Colombia
Here the tapwater in towns and cities is generally fine, despite what the guidebooks say (they're covering their backs, I suppose). I say fine because I never got sick, although it's quite possible that it contains heavy metals, pesticides and other organic chemicals that may pose a longer-term health risk. Certainly there appeared to be a lot of cultivation and development in cathcment areas, and a lot of untreated industrial and mining waste and sewage is dumped into rivers. I'm not sure how effective the water treatment facilities are in dealing with these contaminants. Water quality monitoring data is not readily available to the public.

In more rural areas, the domestic water supply often comes from a communal tank supplied by a creek or somesuch. The water is not treated, so typically a family will boil up a few litres of agua panela (water with unrefined sugarcane) every morning in a large pot and this will be used throughout the day as a drink on its own and as a base for the ubiquitous tinto (black coffee) or chocolate.

Standalone properties sometimes have their own tank. Otherwise water is collected in buckets from a nearby source. I'm surprised that there are so few rainwater tanks, as there is plenty of rainfall throughout the region.

Ecaudor
The water quality here is not always so good. In many of the mountain towns and cities, including popular tourist destinations such as Quito, Cuenca and Otavalo, the tap water exceeeds international standards (according to the WHO). But then there are places like Ibarra which has good catchment protection and water treatment facilities, but the reticulation and sewerage systems are so antiquated and badly maintained that cross-containation occurs, and local advice is to boil first.

In El Angél, a village high up in the northern highlands, I asked my new friend Balmer if the water was ok, and his answer was that it was 70% ok and that, while everyone in the village drank it straight form the tap, I probably shouldn't. But later he introduced me to his father who was the healthiest 96-year old I have ever met and who had lived in El Angél all his life, so I figured the water couldn't be that bad.

A couple of weeks later I was in Papallacta, a mountain village surrounded by national park and numerous natural springs. I assumed the water would be ok but, to be on the safe side, asked a restarant owner my usual question, "El agua aquí es potable?" (Is the water here potable?). She said that it was, but on further discussion it turned out that it had to be boiled. I guess the word 'potable' has a dfferent meaning to someone who's probably never been able to drink water straight from the tap. From then on, I modified my question to be, "Se puede tomar el agua aquí, sin hervirla?" (Can you drink the water here, without boiling it?).

In the coastal and and jungle regions, the water is best avoided. In Guayaquil, Ecuador's largest city, there had been such underinvestment in water infrastructure over the years that disease outbreaks were common. When the Inter–American Development Bank offered to lend thew government money to improve the city’s water service, they accepted (no doubt persuaded by generous 'campaign contributions'). Of course, the loans came with the condition that Guayaquil hand over the control of its water to an international corporation - the infamous Bechtel. It is no surprise to learn that, while Bechtel has been earning about $300 million a year from the deal, there has been little improvement and, under the the private system, households who can't afford to pay for bills have had their supply cut off. (See http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/world/latin-america/water-privatization/ecuador/bechtel-in-guayaquil-ecuador.)

Peru
Here the water is generally not too good. In the few places where I've been told it's ok, it's tasted pretty bad. Then I picked up giardia somewhere along the way, which has disrupted my trip a fair bit. So from now on I'll be boiling or filtering all water, or buying bottles of San Luis (Coca-Cola's local brand of bottled tapwater).

December 06, 2008

Daylight

5.45pm. The Sun has dropped behind the mountains to the West and there are maybe 30 minutes of light left in which to find a campsite.

I am riding through a corner of Sumaco National Park, descending through cloud forest on my way to the selba (jungle) in Eastern Ecuador, and had been enjoying the rugged forested terrain so much that I'd lost all track of time.

The road (such as it is) is cut into the side of a steep valley and so there is no flat ground either side on which to set up a tent. It is so rough and rocky that I won't be able to ride with just torchlight - it's tricky enough in daylight. I haven't seen a truck or bus for hours so probably no chance of hitching a ride. Camping on the road itself is out of the question in case any vehicles do come along. I should have stopped at the summit half an hour before, where there was a small flat that would have been ideal.

Mild panic starting to set in.

The Sun sets and it seems to be getting darker with every second. Just as I'm beginning to despair, I see a small flat on my left, overlooking the valley to the East, by now just a canvas of obscure shapes and ridgelines - I can make out the sillhouette of a large volcano in the distance. It is pretty close to the road and more conspicuous than I'd like, but it will have do in the circumstances.

I pitch the tent in the darkness. I have performed this task so many times that I could do it blindfolded. Similarly, I manage to get my dinner prepared and cooking away without the aid artificial light - it's amazing how much you can see in the darkness once your eyes are accustomed to it.

Eventually I switch on my headtorch, and see straght away that I'm not alone. There is a large spider apparently enjoying the warmth next to the stove, many small beetles are busily going about their business, and swarms of colourful moths are flitting around my head - a couple have already boiled themselves in my soup.

After dinner my thoughts turn to water. I should have enough, but it's always nice to have some in reserve. I prick my ears, and hear the faint sound of running water coming from the other side of the road. On going to investigate, I discover a small trickle of water flowing down the mountainside. Should be ok to drink. This is turning out to be a pretty good campsite after all.

Though I am still concerned that the tent is visible from the road. I doubt that there will be any ignoble persons passing by, but to be on the safe side I remove the reflective guy-lines and hope they won't be needed later in the night.

5am. Suffocating heat. The equatorial Sun has risen and is now cooking me alive inside my warm sleeping bag. Half-asleep, I quickly fumble around to unzip myself and get outside, where I am greeted by the sight of the sun rising above the volcano, and the mist clearing to reveal an immense expanse of forest descending toward the selba in the distance. I can't find any shade from the intense Sun so, after a quick breakfast and a wash from the trickle of water across the road, I am on my way again.

Twelve hours of daylight left in which to find my next resting place.

December 03, 2008

Back in Peru

Lucho's Casa de Ciclistas in Trujillo. There were 5 other riders staying at the same time as me so space was a bit tight but it was nice to meet some fellow tourers and exchange stories and advice.


Limatambo



Moments after this photo was taken, he answered a call on his mobile phone.
Inca baths at Tambomachay.Cristo Blanco, who looks down over Cusco.


The Sacred Valley, seen from the Ollantaytambo citadel.

There were many school groups visiting Cusco at the same time as me, and for some reason they all wanted a photo taken with me. I should have charged 1 Sol a picture like the locals do.
The summit of Huaynu Picchu.
The same place 7 years earlier.










November 22, 2008

More government terror in Colombia

Earlier this year the Colombian army kidnapped 11 young men from a poor Bogota suburb. A couple of months later their bodies were discovered in a mass grave near the Venezuelan border. The reason: to inflate success figures in the fight against 'terrorist' rebel groups. Hundreds more extrajudicial killings are under investigation. See http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7709073.stm.

The government has finally bowed to pressure to dismiss a number of army personnel, though criminal procedings seem unlikely at this stage. And it is a fair bet that President Uribe won't be organising nationwide marches with free music concerts to protest against these kidnappings, as he did to stir up public discontent at those carried out by FARC.

November 17, 2008

Chicha

Perhaps the best thing about this adventure has been the people I've met. Riding an unusual bike into a village off the beaten track you do get some hostile/suspicious stares, but on the other hand it can be a real ice-breaker, and I have been able to socialise with a diversity of people, despite my normal shyness and poor Spanish.

This afternoon, for example, I was a quarter the way up a 1,500 climb, struggling with the steep gradient and the intense Andean sun, when I passed a group of people sitting under the shade of a straw canopy at the front of a mud-brick house just outside Limatambo, and drinking what looked like turbid fruit juice. They invited me to join them and, with my throat as dry as a (insert preferred idiom here), I didn't hesitate. One of the women poured me a glass of the beverage from a large plastic petrol can, explaining that it was chicha, made from fermented maize. It is a drink originating from pre-Colombian times, and it is a daily ritual for many indiginous people to gather in the afternoons to enjoy a few glasses. Of course they waited until my glass was half empty before explaining that the preparation involves someone chewing on the maize (saliva helps the fermentation). There wasn't much I could do except shrug my shoulders, offer a toast, and accept a top-up.

Faced with a choice of continuing the steep ascent, or staying and hanging out with this friendly group drinking chicha, I opted for the latter, hoping I'd be able to find somewhere to stay in the village. A few of them didn't speak Spanish, only Quechua, but the others were able to translate. And my concerns about finding somewhere to stay were short-lived. Within half an hour I'd been offered a room in a finca just outside the village.

(Later I wondered whether the chicha tradition would survive. In Colombia, the government has introduced strict hygiene laws for the production of panela (a sugarcane drink), under pressure from agri-businesses keen to shut down small-scale producers, and now soft drinks like Coca Cola are slowly replacing the tradititional beverage (see http://benjaminball.blogspot.com/2007/06/aguapanela.html).)

However, not all my meetings have turned out so well. Last week in Trujillo I met a couple of guys who said they were from Lima and were in town with their salsa band for a festival. We went for lunch and then to a bar on the outskirts of town, where one of their friends joined us. After a while, one of them asked me if I could exchange some Soles for US dollars for them, as they were continuing on their tour to Ecuador (where the dollar is the official currency), and they couldn't get a good exchange rate at the bank or from local money changers, whereas I, with a foreign ATM card, could withdraw US dollars from a local ATM (and they would even pay my transaction charges). There was no way I was going to go to an ATM with them, and I flatly refused, at this point realising something was amiss.

He subsequently told me he collected foreign banknotes, showing me some from Vietnam and Cambodia, and asking if I had any Australian money. I lied and said no, and showed him instead a Colombian 20,000 Peso note (worth about $10 or 30 Soles) that I've been trying to get rid of. He offered to buy it, but said he only had a 100 Soles ($33) note on him, and so suggested exchanging it for the 20,000 Pesos plus 70 Soles. I again lied and said I only had 40 Soles on me, but he said that I could give him the rest later and handed me the 100 Soles note. I took one look at it and saw that it was a fake.

It was now very obvious that they were trying to scam me by exchanging fake notes. I felt a bit stupid to have spent the previous couple of hours with these guys believing their story, and that they were just interested in my company, but I was quite happy with my riposte: I handed the 100 Soles note back, saying I wasn't sure if it was genuine or not, announced that I had to go and meet some friends, thanked them for the beers (implying that they could pick up the bill), and hurried away. (In retrospect I think they may have seen me coming out of the bank earlier when I'd gone to change some money.)

Incidents like this make me more cautious about opening up to the people, but will not stop me from trying. I guess that in popular tourist towns like Trujillo you are more likely to be targetted and should be more guarded.

November 09, 2008

Llamas and volcanoes

One evening in Baños while eating dinner in my hostel, Jose, a Quichua artist from Quilatoa, turned up with a collection of his paintings and carvings that he was trying to sell. I liked his work, but didn't want to add to my payload, so asked if we would be able to add to the artwork on the bike, and he agreed.
So I turned up the next morning at his home/workshop/studio and left the bike with him for the day, a little concerned about leaving it in the care of someone I hardly knew. My fears seemed justified when I went to collect it at the agreed time of 6pm and there was no sign of him. After waiting half an hour I went back to the hostel and found him waiting for me - he thought he'd surprise me by delivering it to me in person. I was very relived and also very happy with the work.
I wondered how he and his family survive - it takes him about a day to produce one piece of work, and then he spends the evenings visiting various hotels and hostels trying to sell them to local and foreign tourists. He wan't much of a salesman, just seemed to want his work to sell itself, and hadn't made a sale in over a week when I first met him. He said they were better off than when he'd worked as a farm labourer in his village, though he's concerned about President Correa's planned crackdown on ambulantes (street vendors).

November 01, 2008

Photos - Recorrido al Oriente

Wonder if this would make a good tourer. The lack of gears may be a problem.
Thank Mary I made it to the top of the Papallacta Pass (4,080m).


Hotel Sumaco (National Park between Baeza and Tena)

Crossing the Rio Napo to the jungle town of Misahuallí. The Amazon is 1,000 or so kms downriver.

Cheeky monkeys. After stealing my water bottles, they set to work on the pannier.


One of the many tunnels along the 'Waterfall Way' from Puyo-Baños.

October 20, 2008

Fabric softener

A few years ago a good friend of mine, a very successful investment banker, and I were discussing the relative merits of capitalism and communism, and he was telling me these stories of surplus and inefficient production under the Soviet economic system (where most production was under state control).

But since then I've begun to ask myself if the neo-liberal system of free market capitalism and economic freedom and deregulation is any more efficient in balancing consumption and demand with the means of production (labour, resources, machinery etc.) and, more importantly, doing so whilst sustaining a happy, healthy, and equitable society, and a habitable environment.

Consider an everyday supermarket shelf product: fabric softener. Millions of bottles of this chemical cocktail are produced every year, consuming vast amounts of natural resources and energy in their manufacture, packaging & transport, contaminating wastewater, consigning tonnes of plastic bottles to landfill, and adversely affecting the health of consumers (http://www.ourlittleplace.com/fabric.html). And what's more, global sales are increasing as the growing middle classes of developing countries aspire to 'western standards of living'.

Is having soft clothes a worthwhile justification for depleting our planet's ever-dwindling resources and contaminating our fragile environment, when one considers that, for millions of years prior to this product's introduction, humans were able to live without fluffy soft clothes? And especially when there is a natural product - ordinary vinegar - that does just as good a job of softening fabrics as the chemical product, and does so at a fraction of the cost and without the same levels of resource consumption, waste, health risk and environmental contamination? (Fabrics feel less soft after washing because of detergent residues binding to the fibres. As detergents are normally chemically base/alkaline, then any mild acid, such as vinegar, added to the rinsewater will react with the detergent to produce salts that are easily dissolved and rinsed away. In fact there are many other household products for which there exists a cheaper, safer and more natural alternative, see http://www.safersolutions.org.au/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=1&Itemid=136.)

Despite all this, millions of people are still willing to spend large amounts of money on chemical fabric softeners every year. Why? The simple answer to this question is 'capitalism'. Chemical companies, just like all other corporations, are expected/obliged by their shareholders, not only to make a profit every year, but to make a bigger profit every year in order to maximise dividend income and capital growth. To serve this growth, new products are developed and brought into the market. It is inconsequential to a company and its shareholders whether or not a new product benefits society in any useful way whatsoever, or what impact it has on the environment and health. The only thing that matters is that the company is able to manufacture the product at the lowest cost possible, and to conjure up enough demand to be able to sell it at the highest price and in the highest volumes possible.

How does a corporation create high levels of consumer demand for an essentially useless, inferior or overly expensive product? It uses highly skilled psychologists known as 'advertising consultants' to develop marketing campaigns that will make so many people think that they need to buy the product, that doing so becomes a social norm. Then it sits back, lets human habit take over, and watches the profits roll in.

Likewise, costs are minimised by placing the pursuit of profit above any duty of care to society and the environment, for example by exploiting workers and natural resources as far as regulations will allow - although governments can always be persuaded to relax regulations by bribing them with 'campaign contributions' or, thanks to free trade, they can be avoided altogether by moving production/waste disposal to other countries.

Arguably there are many useful products that have been developed through the capitalist/neo-liberal economic system (iPod?). But can not human ingenuity and invention exist without being driven by greed? Was the wheel invented in the pursuit of wealth?

In any case, the neo-liberal/capitalist system is inherently doomed. It is predicated on indefinite and exponential economic growth, and therefore on ever increasing levels of resource/energy consumption and waste production. But the Earth's resources are finite (we have already used over half our oil reserves) and its ability to assimilate waste products is limited (we are already beginning to suffer the consequences of pumping too much carbon dioxide into the atmosphere). At some point, in the very near future, we will have exhausted the Earth's resources to such an extent that, not only will we lack the means of production for further growth, we will lack even the means of survival. (Furthermore the system is inequitable because, invariably, the fruits of economic growth are enjoyed by the rich, while the poor continue to struggle.)

But none of this matters to today's corporate leaders. Their huge salaries and obscene bonuses depend only on the next financial quarter's growth. And even if they don't achieve the results expected of them and are forced to step down, their failure will be rewarded by their boardroom buddies with equally obscene golden handshakes and guaranteed pensions.

The financial crisis we are witnessing today, although more a consequence of inadequate financial regulation than of resource scarcity, is just a small taste of the problems the world faces in the near future. A complete rethinking of the global political economy is urgently needed. While the invisible hand of the free market arguably does a more efficient job of matching production to demand and providing consumer choice than, say, the Soviet system, much of this demand is artificially and unnecessarily generated through advertising - as in the case of fabric softener. And the cost in terms of resource/human/environmental exploitation is unsustainable, socially undesirable, and way beyond our means to repay.

What does this have to do with a cycling tour of South America? Nothing really. Just something I wanted to get off my chest, although I note that many people in Colombia and Ecuador do appear to have unreservedly and unquestioningly embraced the household products that multinational chemical companies, in their pursuit of global growth, have convinced them that they can't live without.

October 09, 2008

Panacea

With unemployment in Colombia around 12%, more than half the population in poverty, and not much of a welfare system, people hatch all kinds of schemes for making a few extra pesos. For example, you can rarely take a bus in Medellín without someone getting on and trying to sell you something: sweets, packs of biscuits, fruit, CDs of special Fathers' Day songs, DVDs, medicines, toys... you get the picture.

The usual modus operandi is (1) Board the bus, jumping over the turnstyle so not having to pay the fare. (2) Move through the bus, handing out your wares to every passenger. (3) Return to the front of the bus and give a 2-4 minute speech about your hardships, and the merits and outstanding value of what you're selling. (4) Move through the bus a second time retrieving your wares, or payment from those who want to keep them. (5) Give the driver his cut, jump off the bus and await the next one. I found it curious at first how most passengers would accept the product being handed out, even if they had no intention of buying it - politeness I suppose - but soon found myself doing the same.

I heard a great story of a guy who got on a bus, handed out blister packs of tablets, and proceeded to reel off a list of diseases and ailments that they could be used for. When he did his second pass through the bus, an elederly male passenger drew him aside and asked in a low voice, 'Can they be used for impotence as well?', to which the vendor replied, 'Si señor, certainly!'. The passenger bought two packets.

PHOTO COMPETITION!!

I need a photograph to accompany this story. Please submit entries via email before 31 October. The sender of the winning photo will win a packet of 24 blue miracle tablets which I'm assured will treat just about anything.

October 04, 2008

Photos - chivas and frailejones

The amazing Santuario Las Lajas near Ipiales. Apparently someone a few years back was walking home from the pub and saw an image of Mary on the wall of this deep gorge. So naturally they built a cathedral inside the gorge, with the rock face where Mary was seen forming the back wall.
Rural public transport in Colombia, the chiva. These brightly painted, wooden buses can negotirate the steepest, muddiest, roughest roads you'll ever see. Quite handy if you're trying to ride up a steep, muddy road in the rain.
There was a recent referendum in Ecuador over changes to the constitution that will make for a fairer society. It was overwhelmingly supported, though rich landowners opposed it so much that they turned the walls of their haciendas into political billboards.
While indigenous farmers were in favour.
Australia has giant fruits along its highways. Ecuador has prehistoric animals.
El Angel's Millenium Monument.

Climbing up to El Angel Ecological Reserve, at this point I was starting to struggle for breath and still had another 100m to climb.

The extraordinary frailejones of the El Angel páramo (grassland). They have soft furry leaves (the locals call them rabbit ears) and flowers like small sunflowers. The whole area is a haven for wildlife, I saw wild rabbits, hummingbirds, owls and eagles. And the amazing thing was I had the whole place to myself (apart from the policeman in the ranger hut).

Glacial lake, the water was crystal clear but at 3,800m proably a bit cold for a swim.

In the clear dawn air you could see for miles in every direction, I think this is Volcán Chile, about 30km away.

Walking along the lakefront at dawn, I was startled to see this huge búho (prob. a Great Horned Owl) staring at me from its perch about 8m away and making a noise that sounded like a mix between a hoot and a gargle. It must have measured 0.5m head to tail.
Balmer - El Angel's maths teacher, taxista, bakery owner, photographer, and all-round nice guy - tries my bike out for size.

October 01, 2008

Hasta luego, Colombia!


As I crossed the border into Ecuador, I stopped to reflect on my four months in Colombia, and amongst all the wonderful memories of the mounains, the food, the villages and the coffee farms, it was the warmth and friendliness of the people that stood out. A few examples.

While I staying with Nati's aunt in Medellín, I used to take the dog for a walk every morning and afternoon. There was a lady, Judith, who lived a few doors away and always seemed to be pottering around in front of her house. I often stopped to talk to her, she was very friendly but a bit of a chatterbox and it was difficult to get away somtimes, so much so that I'd sometimes cross the street to avoid her. When I took the dog for a walk for the last time before leaving, I stopped to say goodbye, and when I returned home half an hour later, she was waiting on our doorstep with a bag so full of chocolates, sweets and other goodies that I had to give half of them away as I couldn't carry them all.

Riding from Manizales to Santa Rosa, a guy on an old racing bike pulled up alongside me and we got chatting. His name was Fernando and he was returning home from his job in a bakery. We rode together for about an hour and, as we were approaching his village of Chinchina, he first stopped at a fruit stall to buy us some grenadillas, then invited me for lunch with his family. When we arrived at the house I realised they were not the wealthiest of families . There were three rooms - kitchen, dressmaking workshop and one bedroom where he, his brother and his sister all slept. So I felt a little guilty when I was given the largest lunch. Even though I wasn't that hungry, they were watching me so expectantly that I forced myself to finish everything, even the frijoles with the bits of pork fat in it. After lunch, Fernando insisted on accompanying me to Santa Rosa, where I was able to repay at least some of his kindness with some fruit shakes and cakes.
Heading toward Santander de Quilchao, I had been warned a couple of times to avoid the villages of Candelaria and Villa Rica because 'they were full of Afro-Colombians and I would probably be robbed'. Well, as I was approaching Villa Rica, there was a big storm approaching and I was feeling hungry so I decided to stop there to get something to eat while the storm passed over. It was indeed a mostly Afro-Colombian community, and it was the friendliest place I'd been in all my time in Colombia. Just about everyone I passed smiled and greeted me (I tended to get quite a few menacing stares in other places), one guy bought be a coffee, and I had three people offer to put me up for the night. In retrospect I should have stayed, Santander was nowhwere near as welcoming.
And then of course there were Nati's family and friends in Medellín, who went out of their way to make my stay there enjoybale and make my submersion into Latin American life an easier one.

September 01, 2008

Papaya

There is a saying here, 'no des papaya' which, translated literally, means 'don't hand out papaya', but essentially means that you shouldn't make it easy for someone to take advanatage of you in some way. (I first heard the saying during a bushwalk back home in the Blue Mountains, when we were climbing out of a canyon and I jokingly offered to carry my friend Ben's backpack as he seeemed to be struggling, whereupon Nati, his Colombian wife, advised me 'no dar papaya!', meaning that he might just take my offer seriously.)

Another way you might be 'offering papaya' might be to make it easy for a pickpocket to get his hands on your wallet, as I did the other day in Armenia. I had taken a bus from my base in Salento to Armenia for a physio appointment and, after arriving at the bus terminal, I waited for a local bus to take me to the medical centre. When my bus arrived and I stepped aboard, the guy in front of me dropped some coins and spent a while picking them all up, blocking my entry and backing into me all the while. I realise now his accomplice behind me would have been trying to rob me, but didn't succeed that time.

So then the same thing happened when I went to get off. As I was moving toward the back door, the same guy dropped a load of coins and bent down to pick them up, blocking the exit, and again backing into me forcing me back against the accomplice. I must have sensed something was going on because I did a subconscious pocket check as I was getting off the bus and noticed my wallet was gone. Fortunately I was able to get back on the bus before it pulled away and confront the pickpockets asking them to return my wallet. They looked hesitant until two old ladies proceded to give them such a ferocious earbashing that they handed it back and fled. I never carry much cash in my wallet here (I have a separate pouch for larger amounts and cards etc.), but it was still a good reminder to keep my wits about me and not to 'dar papaya'.

August 24, 2008

Photos - Zona Cafetera, Colombia

I think this was built to channel stormwater to prevent landslides. It reminded me of a terraced Inca settlement.Los Nevados National Park
Camping at 4,200m. So cold.
Hotsprings at Santa Rosa
Salento, my home for the last week
In the Jardín Botánico near Armenia