Showing posts with label ecuador. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ecuador. Show all posts

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. 

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Summiting Cotopaxi

Volcán Cotopaxi

Volcán Cotopaxi consistently makes it to the top of travellers' itineraries when visiting Ecuador. At an elevation of 5897 metres, Cotopaxi is the second highest peak in Ecuador and the third highest active volcano in the world. It attracts both hikers who want to admire the textbook conical shape of the volcano, and mountaineers who aim to stand on its glaciated summit. It was my goal to experience the latter. After all, how hard could it be?

As I started looking into what the climb involved, the gravity of the task began to sink in. I heard first-hand accounts of the climb, which invariably held that Cotopaxi was one of the biggest challenges of their lives both mentally and physically. The success rate was also discouraging, which was consistently well under 50% from everyone I asked. Accordingly, I took some measures to improve my chances at summiting.

Preparation



First-class seats en route to Quito


First thing was to get my hands on some suitable mountaineering gear. While I wasn't totally unprepared - I brought with me base layers and both down and hardshell jackets for the harsh weather of Patagonia - I was missing a few key things. Therefore I headed to Quito, Ecuador's capital. I stayed at the Blue House Hostel in the Mariscal district, which was situated within walking distance of several outdoor shops including Andes6000, Tattoo Adventure and a North Face outlet store. After taking care of the gear, I began researching Ecuadorian guiding outfits.

There was definitely no shortage of guides to choose from in Quito. I decided to go with Gulliver Expeditions and pay a little extra to go one-on-one with a guide - I didn't want to be responsible for my partner missing the summit if I couldn't make it, and vice versa. Now that the logistics were in order, it was time for the physical prep.

I hopped on a bus headed into the Avenue of Volcanoes. Here I planned to do some hikes and acclimatize. The first five days I did a popular trek from village to village in the Andes known as the Quilotoa Loop. The highest elevation I reached on this hike, however, was merely 3900 metres on Volcán Quilotoa - i.e. two kilometres in elevation shy of that of Cotopaxi.


Crater lake of Volcán Quilotoa


Iliniza Norte was the next step; at 5126 metres, this volcano would give me an idea of how I'd fare in the high altitude climb of Cotopaxi. My guide Sergio and I started from the parking lot at 3950 metres. After two and a half hours, weathering a snow storm and a steep scramble, we made the summit. With this relatively quick pace and not feeling any symptoms of altitude sickness, I was feeling pretty confident about Cotopaxi.


The Ilinizas, Sur (left) and Norte (right)

The scramble to the top

Summit of Ilinza Norte



Attempting Cotopaxi

Sergio picked me up from my luxurious room at Hosteria PapaGayo at noon on February 27th. On the way to the climbers' refuge we stopped at a road-side restaurant and had a two-course meal, the sopa and pollo Ecuadorian classic. After a few hours of sleep, I woke to a three-course meal. It was raining hard and the clouds showed no signs of lifting. I was told that I had five hours more to sleep and if the weather didn't improve, the climb would be off. It was tough to fall back asleep. Between 5:30 and 11:30 I think I managed to get about an hour of light sleep. Fortunately, the weather had improved and we were going to give Cotopaxi a shot - after one last meal of course...

We drove up to 4500 metres, geared-up and began the approach to the glacier at a quarter past midnight. After an hour and a half we had reached the glacier, strapped on our crampons and tethered ourselves together. It was pitch black and all I could see was the headlamp-illuminated ice directly beneath my feet. Nevertheless, it's not as if I would've appreciated the scenery around me if it had been visible - in fact, it was probably for the better. Upon reaching the glacier, we climbed up pitches between 30º and 50º the whole way; unlike regular hikes where the trail levels off a bit after a steep pitch, the route up Cotopaxi got steeper and steeper as we got closer and closer to the summit. I eventually shut-off my brain, shut-out the pain and focused exclusively on the side-stepping rhythm of one-two-three: downhill foot, uphill foot, ice-axe and repeat. The only break in routine was for a quick drink of water and the opportunity to take in the city lights of Latacunga and Quito in the distance.

After six hours of this gruelling climb, we reached the summit of Cotopaxi just in time for the sunrise. A second-wind hit me and I felt a huge feeling of satisfaction. There I was, standing at 5,897 metres - 19,347 feet - above sea level looking into the crater of this monstrous volcano. Unfortunately, the high didn't last long for I realized I still had to descend this freagin' thing with the little energy I had left. At least this time I would see what it was I had actually climbed up!


Sunrise at the peak of Cotopaxi


Crater of Cotopaxi

View of the Andes

Triangular shadow attests to the textbook conical shape of Volcán Cotopaxi

La Vista on the descent

Sergio and I


I was in a daze, with a pretty bad headache, as we drove past wild horses in the national park on the way back to Hosteria PapaGayo. After hopping on a bus bound for Quito and checking into the hostel, I climbed into bed at four in the afternoon, totally content, and fell into a 17-hour slumber to the tune of 'Wild Horses'...