El final de mis viajes

After 275 days of travel it is time to go home.

I have travelled over 35,000 kilometers for approximately 720 hours in more than 70 buses, two boats, a plane and one train, visiting nine countries in total.

I went from 0m to 6088m, visited the deepest canyon, highest city, largest rain forest, driest desert and the longest waterfall in the world, just to name a few! 

Nine months of visiting breath-taking and awe-inspiring places; deserts, jungles, mountain ranges, it is impossible to pick a favourite.

I hope you enjoyed reading this a fraction of how much I enjoyed experiencing this amazing continent.

Hasta luego amigos

Santiago, Chile. Pt 3

Back in Santiago! With five days left of my trip I was able to relax and spend the last few days living a life of leisure before returning to Australia and the "real world". I was lucky enough be able to crash on my friends couch, twenty-three stories up in a great apartment on the overlooking the city.

I spent plenty of time swimming in the roof-top pool, drinking, sunning and occasionally mingling with the cast of Cirque du Soleil who were staying in the building at the time.

A perfect way to end my travels.

More photos here

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

Staring out the window during the twenty-four hour bus journey, I watched the seemingly endless Peruvian coast rush by while I journeyed further south from Huanchaco. I returned to Chile after eight months away and detoured inland to visit San Pedro de Atacama, the driest desert in the world.

At an altitude of 2,400m and under the blazing desert sun I decided it would be a great idea to rent a mountain bike and head off to visit the "Valle de la Muerte" (Valley of Death) and "Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon). The going was surprisingly easy, only having to walk my bike in places where the sand had drifted onto the road making cycling impossible. The Valley of Death was appropriately named, it was great to cycle along the barren wastes and imposing rock formations that hemmed in the track.

It was a longer and tougher ride to the Valley of the Moon, but it was definitely worthwhile to explore the amazing salt caves, gigantic sand dunes and to watch the scorching sun descend over the nearby mountain ranges. I returned to the small town dusty, thirsty and sore, but happy for the experience.

Thus the final destination was checked off my list, it was time to return to Santiago and prepare for my flight home in less than a week.

More photos here

Huanchaco, Peru

Back in Peru, my first stop was the beach town of Huanchaco. Famous for its beach breaks I spent a couple of days in the sun trying to surf in the frigid Pacific ocean.

Morning and afternoon sessions left my hands and feet completely numb, not the best situation when you have to navigate the very rocky shores that the beach becomes at low tide. Stubbed toes and battered shins were small price to pay, at least I found a wetsuit that fit!

I managed to get a couple of decent rides on my rented Mal, the lessening swell was a good fit for my skill level (i.e. almost non-existent). A few days of paddling left my shoulders and arms tired and sore, but it was great to be back on a board, I look forward to getting back home and out to my local breaks.

As the swell continued to lessen I spent my last afternoon visiting the nearby Chan Chan ruins, a very impressive ancient adobe city.

A pretty laid back town and my last beach destination in South America, it is with a little regret that I leave and continue to head south.

More photos here

Montanita, Ecuador

A few hours further south of Puerto Lopez is the beach town of Montanita. Supposedly the best surf in Ecuador I found the town very touristy but luckily the beach was great, although the constant onshore breeze made the surf very rough.

I stayed in Montanita for four nights sleeping on a very thin mattress in the attic of a rustic hostel opposite the beach. Due to the fact the attic didn't have any walls there was an amazing sea breeze to be had throughout the day and night, the accommodations were extremely basic but it suited me perfectly.

Again I spent the majority of my time swimming, body surfing and sun baking when the weather permitted, it could get quite cool with a strong breeze and the sun behind a vast sky of cloud. Most days were overcast but I was lucky to get a morning and afternoon of brilliant sunshine. Combined with the clear and warm water it was a nice place to spend a few days, and a good way to end my time in Ecuador.

More photos here

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

It was great to be back near the beach and to sleep in a decent bed after my last few nights of constant travel. Puerto Lopez is much larger than Canoa and Mompiche but what it has in size it lacks in small-fishing-village charm. The weather, while much less humid than Venezuela and Colombia, has been overcast for the last few days, with only a few hours of sunshine so far.

Happily the water is still warm and clean enough to swim in, and it was nice to slow down and get into the beach vibe. I had forgotten how much I love the bakeries in Ecuador, for less than a dollar I can get all sorts of sugary pastries!

During the few hours of decent sunshine I made my way to the nearby 'Machilalla national park'. The beaches there were much nicer (and devoid of rubbish) than the main beach of Puerto Lopez, and I spent a relaxing afternoon swimming, sun baking and exploring the surrounds. I even happened upon two deer crossing my path as I returned to the park entrance, a nice surprise!

With time to spare I will continue to slowly head south, it is not quite time to leave Ecuador. 

More photos here

Heading south

Leaving Angel Falls I spent the next 76 hours on a combination of buses and taxis as I made my way south. I managed to cross the borders of Venezuela/Colombia and Colombia/Ecuador with only a slight degree of difficulty before finally stopping for the night in Otavalo, Ecuador.

The next morning was spent perusing Otavalo's famous markets for souvenirs, the most stressful part of my trip! Then it was another 20 hours on more buses before once again stopping at an Ecuadorian beach town for a chance to sleep in a proper bed for a few nights.

I plan to spend the next week or so heading down along the western coasts of Ecuador and Peru, as my time in South America slowly comes to an end.

Angel Falls, Venezuela

An insight into the genesis of my trip to South America. A few years ago I was in Darwin to attend the wedding of my older brother Tarrant. Sitting in his living room, watching TV with me, was my younger brother Hayden, who had very recently returned from a long tour through Canada, the US and South America.

We were watching a generic nature documentary when some footage of 'Salto Angel' came on screen, the tallest waterfall in the world, located in the heart of Venezuela.

"I have been there, it was pretty cool" - Hayden (paraphrased)

While watching the spectacular imagery the seeds were sown, one day I was going to travel South America and see it for myself.

And so it was, four years later, that I found myself in Ciudad Bolivar airport, waiting to board a 20 seater plane to Canaima national park. Fittingly, the original impetuous for my trip would be my last big adventure in South America. After travelling for two hundred and forty-eight days, traveling from one end of the continent to the other, I will soon find myself heading back to Santiago (and real life) to fly home.

But not quite yet...

Day 1.
The plane arrived amid a procession of much smaller single engined craft, and before long I was in the air over Venezuela. It was a short uneventful flight to Canaima national park. After a while my tour guide arrived and took me to the camp, arriving just in time to get to shelter before the skies opened and the heavy rain began. After half and hour it was blue skies once more and I joined the rest of my group as we set off up the Kerep river in a small motorized canoe.

It was five beautiful hours before we made it to the next camp, very slow going against the strong river currents and sometimes shallow passages, but gradually the scenery changed from flat lands and scrub to one of lush jungles and awe inspiring tepuis. From a bend in the river I caught my first glimpse of what I came all this way to see, Angel Falls.

Not long after we pulled up on the stony river shore close the overnight camp, I changed into some hiking boots and set up to the lookout. Half an hour later I was lying on a huge slab of rock, gazing up at the enormous falls as the sun set behind it. To be honest I was initially disappointed, the amount of water coming over the falls was much less  than I was expecting (rainy season is July-August), but as I lay and watched my awe grew and as I left in the failing light back to camp I was definitely impressed.

As a nice finish to the day we ate a hearty meal of roast chicken, cooked over an open fire. After that there was little to do but to relaxed in a hammock (my bed for the night) as once again the skies opened and down came a torrent of rain. A peaceful way to be lulled to sleep after a very satisfying day.

Day 2.
Up at day break, I took one last look at Angel Falls, slightly stronger for the overnight rain and partially draped in a low mist that completely obscured some of the surrounding rock formations. After a quick breakfast I was back in the canoe to head back downstream. A much quicker journey as we were traveling with the current, within a few hours we were back to the original camp. After relaxing for the remainder of the late morning I had lunch then set off across the nearby lagoon for a closer at the nearby falls.

We crosses the small stretch of water then set off up a small path that led to a natural opening behind the thunderous falls. Crossing through the water-curtain revealed a long cavern that stretched to length of the falls. Absolutely stunning! Hard to put into words how amazing it was to walk the length of the natural formation, hemmed in by a shear rock wall on one side and a magnificent cascade of water on the side. Once again, some very primal in being so close to such immense power.

We left to another nearby waterfall and once again I was able to walk behind the falls. Again, due to the dry weather the amount of water flowing was significantly down from the maximum, the river was less than half the width of peak flow. I would definitely return during the wet season. I returned to camp to dry off, ending another unforgettable day.

Day 3.
 A slow morning in Canaima, little to do but wait for the plane back to Ciudad Bolivar. I went for a swim then returned to find my plane was scheduled to leave a few hours earlier than I was told. I quickly packed my things and headed to the airport .Awaiting me was a four seater, single engine light plane, with an empty front seat unoccupied. I squeezed in next to the pilot, the secondary yoke inches from my knees and the rudder controls almost touching my feet. That is more like it! I was a leisurely and scenic flight back to Ciudad Bolivar, I much preferred flying in a tiny plane. As a bonus I was 'dropped off' metres from the main airport building, a great way to end an amazing trip!

More photos here

Into Venezuela

One country left on my list, but one that I approached with a degree of caution. I have heard many tales of crime and danger in Venezuela, carried out by police, army and civilians alike. Supposedly rife with corruption and theft, I was definitely on my guard when I made the decision to cross the border from Colombia.

Four hours east of Santa Marta is the town of Maicao, the last bus stop on the Colombian side of my journey. I exchanged some cash on the thriving black market and arranged transport to Maracaibo, the equivalent border town in Venezuela. The option available was to take a shared taxi, but how to describe it?

For starters it made my old Pajero (RIP) look like it was in mint condition. I squeezed into an old American sedan (think 1970's Cadillac or equivalent) that was more rust than metal, its ancient power windows were activated by shorting different bundles of wire hanging out of the drivers side door.

Packed into the front and rear bench seats (no seat belts) I set off along with six other people, the driver with his foot to the floor with the deep rumble of the big capacity engine up front (with petrol at at ridiculously cheap prices they aren't too worried about fuel consumption).

The border roads were in disrepair, the soft suspension causing the car to constantly roll from side to side as we dogged potholes, livestock and other equally decrepit cars. Weaving in and out of traffic we would have made great time if it wasn't for the constant police and army checkpoints along the way. We must have been stopped at least eight times in order to show ID cards (them) and passport-visa stamps (me), but no problems in getting through.

The driver tried to get some extra money out of me, for what I think was to be bribes to allow is to skip the checkpoints, but I felt it was a gringo scam and after politely declining a few times he let it rest. I'm not one for creature comforts but working AC would have gone a long way.

Unfortunately about the only thing in good condition was the car stereo, after five hours cramped in a car, baking in the hot sun listening to the same Venezuelan pop music over and over I was very relieved to finally make it Maracaibo.

 Luckily I was able to avoid the notorious capital Caracas and was able to take a bus directly to Ciudad Bolivar. I arrived 22 hours and eight checkpoints later, the city being the stepping of point for my last big adventure.

Ciudad Perdida (The Lost City), Colombia

After leaving Cartagena, Dave and I headed north to the town of Santa Marta. Described as a beach town that many Colombians flock to on holidays, we found it to be a very dirty place, fulls of beggars, prostitutes and touts selling various cheap junk. I last saw Dave leaving on a mini-bus to the airport while I stayed another night before heading off on a 6-day trek to Ciudad Perdida, The Lost City. Early the next day I jumped in an old Landcruiser and set off to the national park. After pulling off into a dusty side street to fill up on contraband Venezuelan gasoline we continued up a muddy, windy road that led to the small town of El Mamey (The Machete) and began the trek.

I was already sweating from the ride to the trail entrance, withing twenty minutes of starting the uphill climb I was absolutely drenched, sweat dripping from my face, arms and legs. Not a good start but it would become a familiar state during the following six days. If the constant sweat didn't displace all the insect repellent than the amazingly refreshing swims in the adjacent rivers would. Every morning I would emerge with insect bites scattered like buckshot on my legs and feet, thankfully they didn't itch and hopefully weren't caused by malaria-carrying mosquitoes. No chills or aches so far....

The first three days we covered approximately 21 kilometres via muddy trails through lush jungles along the crystal clear and bracingly cold river Buritaca. At the end of each mornings trek to the next camp we were able to swim under waterfalls and in rock pools formed as the river wound from the mountains to the sea. Something to look forward to each morning and my favourite part of the day, it was also a relief to be able to give my horrific clothes a rinse. Our accommodation was a mix of hammocks and open-air beds, covered with fly screens as a necessity. Most meals consisted heavily of fresh fruit (pineapple, watermelon, papaw, bananas and oranges) which was a very welcome change from my diet of the last couple of weeks.

On the fourth day we arrived at the base to Ciudad Perdida. I climbed the 1800 steps (from 600m A.S.L to1200m A.S.L) and began to explore the amazing ruins. The site completely surpassed my expectations, it felt like I was discovering an ancient civilisation, such was the feeling of remoteness given by the expanse of thick jungle surrounding the area. Only the small army base at the top of the ruins spoiled the atmosphere, a remnant of the areas violent past.

After spending a few hours wandering the site it was time to begin the return trek. It was another two and a half days of sweat and insects, interspersed with more swims in the river. It was on the return journey that I learnt of an explosion that occurred in Santa Marta a few days earlier. I was told that a local supermarket (close to where I was staying) did not pay the required protection money, and as a reprisal a bomb was set off outside killing three people and wounding fifty-one. A disgusting act of greed and cowardice, another reason to get out of Santa Marta as soon as possible.

I was lucky with the weather, we trekked the first few mornings in overcast weather, but the latter days were spent in brilliant sunshine. We were fortunate enough to have made it to camp by the time it rained every afternoon and night. Apart from the oppressive heat and humidity it wasn't an overly difficult trek, especially stretched out to six days, but it definitely a great experience and a great end to my time in Colombia.

More photos here