Hey folks,
New destinations beginning with Puno, in the South of Peru and on the edge of Lake Titikaka. We had pretty much had enough of Cusco, with all of the constant tourist badgering which takes place “Massage, Ladies?...Raybans?... Painting?... Trips to Machu Picchu? (No!)” Please just leave us be! There are only so many ways to politely decline. So we buggered off, catching a Golden VIP (oooo, Madam) overnight coach to the South.
Altitude is a funny thing. Having bragged shamelessly about how little it was affecting us, it got Amy right in the ass. 3 days of shortness of breath, feeling sick and general dog-roughness. Ming. Holed up in a green hotel prison for 2 days, with cheery (sometimes drunken) reports from Hannah about how lovely the town was. She was a lovely nurse though, bringing cheese sandwiches and care to the sickbed. Hannah ate Alpaca, not cheese sandwiches. She thought it was scrummy.
When feeling better, both ventured into town and were greeted by sunshine and the start of a Fiesta! This was the kick off ceremony to “Virgin de la Candelaria ”, a yearly fiesta taking place in Puno in Peru and Copacabana in Bolivia. Celebrated with a disturbing mix of sombre faced dancing (Why is no-one smiling?!), stunning costumes and goat heads.
A man wore a goats face on this face. An actual goats face. What?! Here he is... the evidence...
He also carried a whip and kidnapped a member of the crowd. How we laughed (and ran). Just to clarify, it was an actual goats FACE.
There were hundreds of dancers, and each troupe consisted of all ages, shapes and sizes. Bells and whistles, whips and shakers. Bands galore and out of tune pipes. Not the sexiest instrument in all of cristendom. We thought South America was supposed to be sexy. No sign yet.
All dancers moved in unison, except The Rogue. The Rogue is a person who we suspect has not had time to perfect the intricacies of the traditional dance. He therefore spins around like a lunatic, often with a fox on his back. His enthusiasm does not fool us. He did not learn the moves. Out of all the roles, Hannah would like to be The Rogue.
Here is a Rogue. He is covered in Silly String...
Possibly the reason that the dancers were not smiling was that the festivities continued FOR HOURS. They were in it for the long haul, my friends, pacing themselves like marathon runners. We had a drink in the evening and one of the performers (81 years old we thinks) was falling asleep, pipe in one hand, rum in the other. He was falling asleep while standing up. Great spectator sport, reminiscent of 1920´s dance marathons. Who will survive? Not him.
The next day we had a trip booked to the floating islands of Uros on Lake Titikaka and the non floating island of Tajile. We decided to go for a day trip instead of staying overnight as we find the whole tour thing a bit of a drag. We are free spirits, man. Innit. The reed islands were amazing feats of vegetable engineering, our favourite type of engineering. The local villagers set up a model to explain how the islands were formed.
They were initially created in... we don´t know. We didn´t listen. Guides (especially ones who look like frogs... who moves their mouth that way?) make us feel sleeeeepy. We ate a reed though, it tasted like sweetcorn. Everything tastes like sweetcorn here.
The islands are purely tourist traps now. This was illustrated when we left the islands and the locals sang “Row, row, row your boat” to us as we floated away on a reed boat. This was punctuated with a “Hasta La Vista , baby”, spoken in unison. Classic Peru. It made us feel a bit queesy. Here they are, rave anyone?
We then travelled to the next island which was bootiful. The sun put his hat on for us, and we sacked off the rest of the group for lunch and sat eating our cheese sandwiches on a rock, overlooking the stunning lake (free spirits, and cheap).
Travelled back in the bright sunshine, sat on the top of our boat. It was a treat to be next to the water. The lake is MASSIVE, 8000 odd square kilometres, no less. Beautifully still and the colour of it is like, amazin´.
Headed back to Puno a little bit rosy cheeked and red-nosed, ready for our next country and fiesta... in Bolivia... stay tuned, folks.
A & H xxx
P.S. We like comments. They are our favourites. Please leave some if you so desire. Byeeeeeee!
You said that you had lost your blog but lo and behold here it is. The wonders of the internet. Will comment properly later
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ReplyDeleteHello ladies.
ReplyDeleteWell, congratulations. That was your funniest blog instalment to date. I'm so sorry about the sickness though Aim and would not like you to think I am laughing at your misfortune. Goat face and the Rogue had me laughing into my (decaf) tea.
You paint quite a picture of that fun but no fun carnival. Maybe there are rules about not smiling when taking part in these festivities. I'm gutted on your behalf about South America not being sexy though. Who would have thought it? No sexy, sweaty young men wearing nothing but tight cut off denim shorts and looking like they have stepped out of a Ricky Martin video? Well, that is disappointing.
I love the neon ravers too but I can imagine you have little patience with the highly touristy places now, after roughing it and seeing the more authentic places.
All is well here. Did I mention that I'm huge? Could hardly be more so. I am a complete egg on legs and it isn't even Easter. I think the Dot is getting pretty annoyed about being so squashed too and she boots me regularly in a slightly more annoyed way than she used to. Or maybe I'm just imagining that - wishful thinking perhaps as I suspect she is still cosy enough not to want to join the world just yet. No indication that she is gonna make an early appearance but there are only 15 days until D Day now so not long to wait. However, if she is naughty enough to be as late as Henry was, I will be having serious words with her on arrival.
Please do continue to blog it up. Love it's work. Will keep you posted on imminent niece arrival Aim (or one of us will at least as I may be a bit preoccupied by the whole labour thing when the time comes).
Loads of love from Amy's enormous sister.
xxxx
Hi girls
ReplyDeleteGlad Amy is feeling better. So many changes to your diet, along with the altitude would completely wreck my system, so I think you have both done really well to avoid too many problems. Loved your photos, especially the fiesta where you could see the typical "bowler hats" that people wear. Interesting costumes etc. The goats head was quite spooky. What does it mean? There must be some significance in that! It was lovely to speak with you Hannah and the blog really makes us feel much less further away than we are. Enjoy the rest of your adventures. We are all fine here. The house purchase is proving troublesome for Alex and Sian but it may all be resolved soon on way or the other. Have booked our adventure to Northern Spain in the summer. 17 days of touring including some coastal parts and the Picos de Europa which I think is like our Lake District (or I hope it is). My spanish is coming along nicely considering I haven't been doing it that long. Can't wait to try it out when we go to Spain at Easter. I hope you are fluent when you come back. You'll be able to help me practise. The boys are fine. Al has had some early GCSE exams and thinks he has done well. Dan is looking after his teeth better after a good nagging from the orthodonist. Both as cheery as ever. Busy time for me with marking but am looking forward to getting the marks sent off in a couple of months so that life becomes a little less hectic. M is fine too. Lots of love, Mum xx
LADIES!
ReplyDeleteAs one of enormous height myself I feel your pain re: altitude sickness - I get it when adorning my paws with anything other than a trainer.... Glad you're feeling better now Aims, what a 'mare. However on returning you can turn that into a fabulous "You even don't know, you weren't THERE man....." kind of story.
Sounds like you're having an amazing time, am still sitting here working my (tall) ass off and seething with jealousy at your adventuring. I am now going to undertake to be the Rogue Dancer at my upcoming plethora of hen nights - so although you won't be there to enjoy Aim, at least you'll have had an important input into the event! Although thinking about t I think that my style has always been pretty rogue on the dancefloor, particularly when accompanied by one of my infamous falls. (I'll steer clear of the Goat Face though, not so into that thanks.)
LOVING your updates girls, keep 'em coming, take care of one another, stay safe and please endeavour to keep the rogue-ness to the MAX.
Muchoes love
Lou xxx
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ReplyDeleteHey, Yourselves.
ReplyDeleteGlad you managed to escape some of the tourists, and the salespeople (“Come in here and see our luverly stuff, señorita. We rip you off less!”), and are currently residing somewhere far more tranquil, where serious locals (with a sense of humour so quiet that nobody actually hears it) while away their time indulging in quiet fiestas, silently racing bulls and wearing lots of soundless stringy stuff.
So pleased you are feeling better, after your bout of altitude sickness, Amsie (following info gleaned during your Skype call, tonight), but it must have been horrible for you. Now I understand what is meant when scenery is described as “breathtaking”! Well done, Hannah, for managing to stay irritatingly healthy...and many thanks for nursing our Bubkin, too!
The Golden V.I.P. Coach was clearly very swish, and obviously took flesh-coloured V.I.P.’s, as well as golden ones. It may even have arrived on time, if in ironical mood, but well ahead of all those second-class passengers, no doubt...unless the wrong kind of leaves were hanging on the trees.
The Parj and I are having a little difficulty coming to terms with Old Goat Face, to be honest, having formerly kept, as pets, three of the critters he prefers to wear on his phizog. We also cared for nine pet Herdwick sheep – not to mention horses, dogs, cats, a rabbit, endlessly-copulating rodents, pond fish (well, you name it) – but it never occurred to us to wear any of them on our faces; even on really bad days. But, yes, we had no alpacas (feel free to set this to music, to the tune of “Yes! We have no bananas. We have no bananas, today.” And, for all I know, you don’t.), thankfully, Hannah, as I’d hate to think of your gobbling up one of our friends.
What sort of kid, hiding in terror among the crowd, did Old Goat Face nap...? Not another goat kid, mehopeth, or he’ll be wearing that, come next fiesta. One can only trust that he doesn’t wear children, too.
I am trying hard to imagine the cacophony of sound produced in that quiet backwater. Whatever happened to pan-pipes...or were they the offending out-of-tune instruments aforementioned? I thought South Americans were famous for popping pan-pipes into their faces every few seconds (no doubt washed down with copious amounts of rum, and plopped upon by condors in flight), and they deffo have a breathy, sexy sound...sort of...kinda...
All looks wonderfully colourful, though, in those gorgeous photographs, and must be a brilliant spectacle to see...or fall asleep standing up to, while smoking a pipe, if you happen to prefer doing that. Great shame the dancing ain’t sexy, though. There’s probably several millimetres of horribly sweaty Lycra beneath those grass-skirts. Enough to put anyone off.
(And I've just been put off writing any more in this comment box - ain't allowed, apparently - so will continue, below...)
(To resume the prattle...)
ReplyDeleteNow, then, Girls: this `ere Rogue... Obviously, our friend depicted herewith has lost his fox. But, before it skedaddled - or fell off - and was still in place, hanging from his back, was it actually alive, or yet another deceased face, with, perhaps, a dead body attached...wearing socks? Dr. Seuss comes to mind, with Fox-in-Socks in box on Knox, so I suppose one has to accept that The Rogue is called Señore Knoxos. I should try out a foxos, first, Hannah, before volunteering to be a Rogue, as you might well find it doesn’t suit you. A living one would be far preferable, of course, but you might then spend most of the time chasing it, or untwining it from the Silly String, but, since The Rogue has no recognisable dance steps, that might be entirely acceptable; as long as you bung in a few twirls, from time to time, and don’t get yourself too tied-up. You might need to pull quite a few strings to become accepted as a fully fledged Rogue, though, of course.
Floating islands sound extremely interesting, if a little unnerving. (I am happy to go a-cruising on the high seas, but think I prefer my dry-land to stay put.) Thanks for the detailed description of how the islands were formed...Z...Z...z...z... What? Eh? Sorry, dropped off, there, for a moment. Where’s me pipe...?
Ta for the picture, explaining it all, too. Made it almost as clear as mud (huts).
Oh, I totally AGREE: Frog Guides are the WORST. Toad Guides are a bit better, though, as they tend to walk rather than hop, and thus you can, at least, keep up with them...assuming you might want to, which is very unlikely.
Everything tastes like sweetcorn, eh...? Including tea, rum, guinea-pigs, alpacas...? Much as I like it, I think that might lead to Sweetcorn Overload, and be a trifle boooooring; especially if the trifles are made of sweetcorn, too.
Did the locals REALLY sing “Row, row, row your boat”, as you sailed off in your reed vessel? (And why didn’t a boat made of reeds sink...? Not that I’d have wanted it to, you will realise: I simply don’t understand how it stayed afloat; but then I don’t comprehend how massive aeroplanes fly, nor how cruise ships float; why supermarket trolleys always favour travelling left, nor why Jasper delights in creating pools of mud three feet deep, so it’s no earthly use asking ME.) But quite apt, as nursery rhymes go, and rather more relevant than “Cream Cat, Cream Cat, where have you been...?” And I suppose “Hasta La Vista, baby” was definitely friendlier than “Are you lookin` at ME...?”
Hate to tell you this, but one member of your group sneaked off with you, on the last island you mention, judging by your final, massivos photograph. Hope she didn’t pinch too many cheese sandwiches or cheapo plonk. Superb pic, incidentally.
That lake certainly sounds enormous – almost as big as your final picture – and rather puts the old Keswick puddles and Scottish lochs in the shade, eh, Ames? But they’re happier in the shade: it is, after all, where they’re accustomed to residing.
What EXCITING adventures you are having, Girls! Mind you, why you should want to go all the way to South America, when there are parts of Reading you haven’t yet explored, beats me.
Absolutely adored your latest blog, as always, Darlings, and will most definitely stay tuned. Thank you so much for going to all the trouble of regularly posting hilarious multitudes of text and gorgeous photos...especially since you lost all of your current offering, earlier, after a contretemps with an officious Keeper of the Local Internet Facilities, and then had the annoying task of rewriting it, plus slowly uploading photos, again. Gordon Bennettos! (Which was probably his name.) Dizgracios.
Since everyone now knows you really love getting comments, I am sure you will receive lots and lots and LOTS of them, anon!
Fondest Love
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Please don't worry about your heavily-pregnant sister, Amsie. She has a wise and helpful mother around, as you know. I've demonstrated my amazing usefulness by giving her the following, sage advice...
ReplyDeleteTo prepare for dressing a new baby: obtain one floppy, unhappy octopus. Stuff into a small net bag, making sure that all the tentacles stay inside.
Practise getting back into feeding solids by filling a large, plastic jug and suspending it from the ceiling with a stout cord. Start the jug swinging and twisting. Try to insert a spoonful of soggy cereal into the mouth of the jug, while pretending to be an aeroplane. Now dump the contents of the jug on the floor.
I've a million of `em. But I have not, as yet, told her to borrow a couple of small goats and let them loose in a supermarket, as a foretaste of what it's like taking a baby and a toddler into Sainsbury's.
One of the ways in which I prepared for raising four small children was to smear jam on sofa and curtains, then rub my hands in the wet flower-bed and wipe them all over the walls, covering the stains with crayons, which I neatly followed by pushing a couple of fish fingers down the back of the sofa and leaving them there all summer.
I also scattered a half-ton box of Lego all over floor, removed my shoes and socks and put on a blindfold, trying to walk from playroom to kitchen without screaming (which might have scared the children).
So, as you see, your Big Sis is in very safe hands.
Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, when you know how....
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