Thursday, March 27, 2014

Chronicles of a Patagonia Road Trip: Part I

It began in the Avenue of Volcanoes in Ecuador. I met a lad named Tom at a mountaineering base camp near Volcán Cotopaxi who sought the same types of adventures as I. I easily convinced him to join me in my search for a cargo ship headed deep into the Amazon Basin, and that is when the dream of a road trip to Patagonia was born.

We were sitting in a bus terminal in Quito looking at a map of South America. The lack of ground I had covered in South America over six weeks, coupled with dwindling funds, had crushed my plan to explore Patagonia. But that didn't stop me from dreaming about it. We were discussing theoretical routes that we could take to Patagonia when it suddenly became a real possibility - if Tom decided to bail on his plans of travelling to the Gallapagos Islands and Rapa Nui, and I would commit to splitting fuel costs, buying a vehicle for a road trip to Patagonia would be feasible.

Less than two weeks later we were surfing the web in Starbucks in Lima, Peru researching how, if possible, a foreigner can buy a vehicle to drive to Patagonia. After verifying that it was possible, we hired a guy to drive us around the city and help us out with the logistics, Eddie. Not only did he help us with finding the right vehicle and dealing with the legal stuff, he invited us to stay with him and his family for a couple of nights. This road trip would not have been possible without him.


Car purchase dilemmas in Lima, Peru

Outfitting the '84 Toyota Landcruiser for a Patagonia road trip


We settled on a 1984 Toyota Landcruiser. It was a beauty, equipped with a gasoline and propane powered carbureted engine, manual transmission, four wheel drive, and bench seats but no airbags. It had its quirks that we would learn along the road, but we thought it'd be sufficient to deal with whatever we encountered on our journey to Patagonia.

Below are excerpts from my journal during the road trip to Patagonia:

Day 1

"After a long week in Lima, Tom and I have finally hit the road and are headed Sur. Can't express how stoked I am to be actually driving to Patagonia. I've dreamt of exploring these desolate and extreme landscapes for as long as I can remember..."


Panamerican highway, Peru


Day 2

"Breathtaking views cruising along the Panamerican Highway on Peru's Southern Pacific Coast. We're averaging 50 km/h in our thirty year old Landcruiser, but happy to be moving forward..."




Pepé and I


"First mechanical problem with the truck today. The carbureted engine cannot adjust for the thinner air at higher elevations as we climb to Arequipa. We give her some TLC and keep trudging along in a lower gear at higher RPMs."


She definitely doesn't like high altitude


"We were worried about armed, highway-side robberies driving at night, but turns out protests and riots are more concerning. Crowds of people in the small pueblos are blocking the streets, blocking traffic. Rumours hold that they've been throwing Molotov Cocktails at tourist buses, lighting cars on fire and spreading innards of dogs at the entrances to towns. Riot police are at standby."


Protests in Peru

Riot police on standby


"No better way to learn than by trial under fire. After dropping off a couple of hitch-hikers in Arequipa, it was my first shift driving the Landcruiser. But I had limited experience with a manual transmission in the best of conditions... Now it was dark, I would have to negotiate numerous switchbacks climbing and descending the mountains, and would have to watch for attempts at highway-side robberies. My last piece of advice driving stick in the mountains before Tom went to sleep was, 'If there's an unofficial road-block, throw it into second and let them think you're coming to a stop, then, at the last minute, line-up the headlight with the tire of the car in your way and give 'er.'"

Day 3

"Driving through the driest desert in the world, the Atacama desert in Northern Chile... Running out of both GLP [propane] and gasoline. Questionable whether we're going to make it to the next gas station."


The driest desert in the world, the Atacama desert in Chile


"Just made it to the closest pueblo and filled both the tank and one extra fuel can. With gas costing about $2 US a litre, we're thanking the lord we picked up a couple hitch-hikers at the border of Chile."


Strapping a couple of extra fuel cans to the roof


"Starting to realize that we grossly underestimated this road trip. Bought a Landcruiser because it was really fucking cool, and now we're paying the price. It maxes out at 90 km/hour, so we'll be trudging along slowly. It also consumes so much fuel - it is so inefficient - that a full tank of gas won't take us to the next gas station in this desert. Consequently, it is going to take longer to get to Patagonia, and it is going to cost a fortune, more than I can likely afford... But that's the price of a once in a life-time experience, and I wouldn't want to do it any other way."

Day 4

"We've been travelling for nearly forty hours straight. Tom and I are making a push for Mendoza, Argentina after dropping off our hitch-hikers in Santiago. It looks like I'll have the night shift again tonight. Looking forward to the peacefulness and solidarity on the Panamamericana, which has surprisingly little traffic even during the day. Just me and the road..."


Stars above the Panamerican Highway in the Andes at the Chilean - Argentinian border

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Quest for the Elusive Amazonian Lancha




El Rio Napo



Somewhere along the mud-coloured Rio Napo floats a cargo ship. Its sole purpose is to deliver goods to the numerous villages lining the river’s shores that are not accessible by land, that are disconnected from civilization in the Amazon Basin. No one knows what it’s carrying, where it is, or when it’s arriving or departing. But one thing is sure: it will eventually reach the largest city in the world not accessible by land, Iquitos.

The idea to visit Iquitos was planted in my head by a friend of mine. We were looking at a world map discussing dream trips when he pointed at the heart of the Peruvian Amazon and said, “There, the largest city in the world only accessible by river or air. There are boats going to Iquitos from Ecuador. I wish I could do it, but I don’t have the time.” For the next two weeks I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I wanted to see the Amazon, but jungle tours and lodges were overpriced; I had loads of time, time to travel that I was never sure I’d have again; I had bought hundreds of dollars worth of Malarone, prophylactic malaria medication that had to go; and, this sounded like a good way to get off the well-beaten trail, a way to get a glimpse of real life in the Amazon. With this rationalization, how could I not go and give it a shot? At the very least, it would be an adventure…


The Rio Napo and Rio Amazonas connect Coca, Ecuador to Iquitos, Peru, the largest city in the world not reachable by road.


I managed to convince a poor chump, Tom, to join me and on March 5th we embarked on our quest for the lancha to Iquitos, albeit naïvely. We arrived to the oil town of Coca at 3:00am and were forced to sleep on the floor of the bus terminal due to a combination of poor planning and a heavy-footed bus driver. We endured a crammed, ten-hour boat ride down the Rio Napo to get to the Ecuadorian border town of Nuevo Rocafuerte, only to discover that no one knew when the cargo ship was arriving or departing for Iquitos. Some held that the lancha was a day away, and others rumoured that it could be as many as ten for it only visits the villages lining the Rio Napo once or twice a month! But that’s all it was, rumours.


Tom getting out his mattress in Coca's bus terminal as we wait for the sun to rise.

Burned through three engines over the course of the ten hour journey along the Rio Napo from Coca to Nuevo Rocafuerte.



Needless to say, this information, or lack of it for that matter, was depressing. We did not have enough money, nor the desire, to wait indefinitely in this tiny town in the middle of the Amazon. It could not have been populated by more than a hundred people. The most traffic we saw on its cobble-stone streets comprised of three motorcycles and a single pick-up truck. However, much to my surprise, it did have a discoteka. The major pastime seemed to be drinking Budweisers on the porch of the general store. To be honest, the town sucked. We decided to make the most of our time in the Amazon and hired a boat to take us to Yasuní National Park to see the infamous fresh-water dolphins.


Discoteka in Nuevo Rocafuerte, Ecuador.
En route to Yasuní National Park.

Homes tucked into the jungle near Yasuní


Fortunately, some news awaited us upon our return from Yasuní. But not all of it was good. Two people confirmed that the lancha was a day or two away from Pantoja, the Peruvian border town. However, the typical one or two day layover before turning around for Iquitos was supposedly going to be prolonged to a week because of a fiesta.

We were faced with a decision, we had reached the point of no return. Upon reaching Pantoja to see if the rumours were true, that this elusive lancha had arrived, we would not have enough cash to back-track to Coca, the closest city with an ATM; if the cargo ship had not arrived, we would be stranded in the Amazon with little money and no means of communication. But this is how true adventures start, so we woke the migration officer at noon who stamped us out of Ecuador in his boxers and hired another boat to take us across the river to Pantoja, Peru.


Tom and I waiting for a ride to Pantoja, about to reach the point of no return in our journey to Iquitos, Peru.


We were glad to see that Pantoja trumped Nuevo Rocafuerte as far as small Amazonian towns go. They had no vehicles, just a sidewalk connecting all the homes. It was also bustling with activity other than crushing Budweisers. By the river people were filleting a 150kg fish; from the jungle emerged a man and a kid carrying a pig tied to a stick; the town held a sporting event in which kids partook in tug of war, eating competitions and a grease pole; and the door to a local pub was answered by a monkey wearing a life-jacket. This was a town I could spend some time in, but the cargo ship had arrived and was leaving for Iquitos in two days time.


Pantoja, Peru

Filleting a 150kg fish


Overly enthused soccer-mom


This little guy, Simon, opened the door to greet us to the empty bar 


The sight of the lancha evoked bittersweet feelings. While happy to have found the elusive cargo ship, this rust-bucket looked as if it could barely float its own weight. We were sure it’d make for an interesting experience. On Sunday March 9th a group of us boarded the ship and raised ‘Camp Gringo’, a corner on the third floor of the ship where we strung our hammocks and would call home for the next several days. We comprised a French couple who had been stranded in Pantoja for a week with barely any money left to their name, a creepy American dude whose e-mail read ‘*****@YouAndIForever.us’, a quirky German, and Tom and I. I should’ve figured that only people in need of an adventure, or help, would willingly attempt this border crossing.


The elusive lancha, the 'Arabela-I'

Camp Gringo


The lancha floated down the Rio Napo at a snails pace, averaging between four and ten kilometres per hour. The boat stopped at small villages, homes and even uninhabited jungle to load up the ship with people, livestock and plantains - loads of plantains. 


Curious kids

Smoke was used to get the attention of the lancha for cargo pick-up

One of these guys would be dinner!

Believe it or not, they had this bull on the canoe featured in this picture.

Defeated bull

Couple of goats too

Banana boat!



Life on the boat was interesting. The majority of the day involved lounging in a hammock in the gringo camp and reading a book. But every once in a while something peculiar would happen, such as a local would bring out some gremlin-ish looking monkey, or another pet monkey would try to steal your food, or the crew would be butchering a pig to feed the passengers. The food on the ship was terrible; I was only able to stomach about a third of the meals. The staples of the diet were arroz con leche (rice in milk) and fresh pork, cooked with its skin and hair still intact along with the beads of the shotgun shell that was used to kill it. While the pork was actually pretty good once I got past the hair and skin, which reminded me of my days working in the burn unit, I couldn't stomach the arroz con leche that looked like the slop served on the boat in the film 'The Matrix'. But I couldn't complain for I only paid $32 US for this all-inclusive, luxurious cruise to Iquitos!


More rat than monkey

Buen Provecho


For four days we floated down the Rio Napo before it merged with the Rio Amazonas and we reached Iquitos. As soon as I stepped off the banana boat I felt as if I had left Latin America; Iquitos was surreal. The number of mototaxis made it feel like India, the floating houses of Belén added a hint of venice, and yet the weird grub in the Belén market reminded you that you were still in the Amazon. 


A taste of India in Iquitos, Peru



A hint of Venice in Belén



Cool-off in the Amazon


The Belén market reminds you that you're still in the Amazon

Stomach?

Turtle

Maggots

Shamanic medicines



Iquitos holds some very wild stories and hosts some very strange people. For example, Gustave Eiffel designed an 'Iron Building' for the capital of Bolivia and sent it by way of river, but after the captain of the ship reached Iquitos he decided to dump the structure here rather than endure another six months navigating the rivers of the deep Amazon! Iquitos is also a major destination for people seeking a hallucinogenic experience with Ayahuasca. People pay thousands of dollars to have a shaman administer them some of this tea which makes them uncontrollably vomit and shit before they experience some sort of spiritual awakening. I've met some people who have tried this and claim to be able to communicate with the extra-terrestrial dimension and extra-terrestrials themselves after having tried Ayahuasca... Sounds like a blast, sign me up! 

The uncertainty in the quest for the lancha, the villages, pink dolphins, and the surreal city of Iquitos all made for a pretty wild Amazonian adventure.