You know the drill

Welcome to hiatus country. Population 1.

Breaking up is hard to do

...but it will have to wait until I get a new fan for my laptop. Expect a rip roaring wrap up in one to two weeks, depending on the speed and skill of the trained monkeys in charge of computer repair. Peace out.

Peace Out, South America (now knocking on wood)

If all goes according to plan, and my alarm goes off with aplomb, tonight shall be my last night in Ecuador, Peru, and the Galapagos too. That merits some sort of reflective post, but as you know, without a camera and snappy captions, my blog has no meaning. (That being said, I did buy a camera today, another one of my impulse buys, so hopefully I can bring you tidings and incriminating evidence of my friend Uncle J's wedding in Texas.) But back to the halfway point of the globe... truly it was the best of times and the worst of times, but mainly it was the happy medium of times. Animal rich, friend filled, both sunny and rainy, productive, introspective, bus-intensive... it was all of these things. There was many a joke lost in translation, but for the most part communication was smooth. The eating was fair, and the vomiting was far and few between. Most of all, I'll remember this country for its cheap bootleg dvd's and wealth of llama and alpaca products. Thank you Ecuador, and goodnight sweet prince.

A post before bussing

I got a solid day of sunshine today, and for that I am thankful, Atacames. You did your job, and I did mine. Your street and a half offers a rich selection of pizzerias and pharmacies, and your beach is filled with body board rentals and cocaine pushers. Your corners offer cheap international calling rates, and your tiendas hawk inflatable toys and jesus-related tank tops. Most of all, Viagra is sold at 3 dollars a pop by old ladies, and for that I say thank you.

The best tank top ever

In an effort to keep you up to date with my impulse buys, I present you with possibly the best impulse purchase...wait for it... ever. It´s a tank top (the first I´ve ever purchased) with an off-center logo which reads: Jesus loves you! Someone who loves me very much was in Atacames, Ecuador, and brought me this t-shirt. End quote. Then there is a picture of two orcas frolicking with a happy sun wearing some rocking shades. There´s really no need to deconstruct the magic of this tank top, but I think I will take a stab at it. First of all, the initial claim about Jesus loving me is bold, but to combine it with frolicking killer whales? Now that is something special. To top it off, the whole logo is aligned to the right, which is just a touch of class. I would upload a picture, but alas, I am camera-less for the forseeable future...which doesn´t bode well for the blog, as photo-recaps certainly were doing most of my work for me. I will soldier on however. Why? Because Jesus and his orcas of love will guide me...

Of note: T-minus 2 days till departure.

Playa please

I've had enough 50 Cent and Mary J. Blige remixes to last a lifetime. Thanks but no thanks, hip Quito internet cafes. It's time I punched out of this yawn factory and made my way back to the beach. Flying solo now, we'll see how that bodes for this young jedi.

Darwin and Hemingway, you're the only ones that understand me

Oh, and you too, clown-faced garbage can...



Later, and get home safe Ad. It was the best of times...

Watch out for that jew

Why won't you let me live?

Curse you Google, will you never let me forget?

Sigh

I know why the caged ??? sings

Anyone know what kind of animal this is?





A shout out for the correct answer, or the most amusing...

UPDATE: The big winner, in a landslide, is the one and only Adrien Soullier, who also happens to be the photographer. Though I don´t think that the animal he suggests, the giant anteater, is one and the same, I think they are possibly cousins, or at least good friends or former lovers.

Good to know there´s one of you out there reading this, so thank you sir.

Mo' Horses, Mo' Problems

It's like the more horses we come upon, the more problems we see...

I have some serious mala suerte with transport. It helps that we have tempted nearly every type of standard transport: boat, plane, bus, car, bike and horse. In the words of a hippie chick we met recently in Banos, 'just push that negative energy away from you'. I'm trying, you spry tart, I'm trying. Latest culprit: this no-named horse...

I'm smiling, but I ain't happy

This fellow was fine on the way to the volcano, but on the way back, well, let me just say that if turning around in circles and avoiding horse bites is your idea of fun, then this was the horse for you.

Stop biting me and take me to the freaking largest crater in the world, okay?

At least there were no horses on the dark side of the moon, er, crater.



A couple more buses and several planes to look forward to. Wish me suerte.

Galapa-gone with the wind

Alas, our stint in the Galapagos is now over, and I can say unequivocally that it was Galapa-great.

Now please to be strapping yourself in for some concise, animal-rich, photo-filled, recap action.

Most of our time on the islands was spent: A. Arranging and betting on illegal marine iguana fights



B. Breeding marine iguanas



C. Lounging




D. Reflecting and looking cute




E. Experiencing a new wave of Beatlemania



F. Searching for the elusive blue footed boobie



G. Scuba diving for my lost mobile phone



H. Fishing with the Incredible Hulk



I. Jumping up and down



J. Contemplating the giant tortoise



And K, partying like invasive species




L-Z will have to wait for another time, as Quito beckons...

peace out!

P.S. check out the new photos as well...

Chevere

Well that last post went swimmingly... now let's try a different approach.





And if that still doesn't wet your whistle, try this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbI60rw5kCs

Dolphins for Delphine

There is a film here! If it doesn´t show up, it´s a plugin or browser issue. Good luck!

No dolphins were harmed in the filming of this movie. All footage of dolphins is real and not computer generated. Sorry for sticking my thumb in front of the lens. Peace out.

Back in business

There is much to recount. I'll be quick I promise.

The epic return from Peru to Ecuador nearly justified my wildly paranoid fantasies of what could go wrong. The apocalyptical trip took two days, and featured such pleasures as a broken-down night bus, several long, unexplained stops on the side of the road, a sketchy and expensive border crossing, 3 flooded villages, a missed bus stop, landslides, and yes, a chicken.

I was sure we were destined for a watery grave:


We did get back to Quito however, with our spirits intact. Indeed, returning to Quito was like a homecoming of sorts; It was nice to come back to the place where the metaphorical Hula Hoops began its circuit around our metaphorical hips.



Quito seems like the epicenter of culture and technology to me, likely because I'd been picking cockroaches out of my keyboard and swatting away crickets just a few days earlier. First class city, that Quito.

Its advantages include local fauna:

Hello, I'm possibly the cutest puppy in the world... oh and my name is Bruno. Now pet me please.

Fine indigenous musicians:





And perhaps most importantly, old friends...

We're happy because we have new hats

And so our trip has come full circle... from the womb to the tomb, the outhouse to the penthouse, from Ecuador to Peru and back. But our lot is not to stay in Quito for long, for we are bound for (drum roll please) the Galapagos Islands... home of Darwin's finches, a bunch of iguanas, and more wildlife than you can shake a stick at (though we've been warned that you shouldn't shake a stick at the wildlife).

Please, sir, more gruel. I can't even stand up

Onward!

Flooding the market with floods

What trip to the equator would be complete without floods? The answer is 'none'.

As a bonus question, try to guess the proportion of these floods... If you said biblical, then you're a big winner. Because biblical they were. We even saw a few toads, followed by locusts and then the ritual slaying of the firstborn son. Peep this:



and this:



And then perhaps, this should be peeped:



If it looks like Ben is having the time of his life, it's because he was. Indeed, even grumpy farmer McArnon had to admit that it was a worthwhile adventure.

Highlights: Ben being interviewed! Even in tiny South American villages, Ben manages to spread the GymGlish gospel. Though actually I think it was for a national Ecuadorian television station, and I don't know if he plugged the Glish, I'm sure he made the late edition. Here's a sample of the Q and A as it was related to me:

Pretty South American Girl: What can you tell us about the situation?
Ben: It's very wet.

Nice sound bite, no?

Also, everyone in the village made the same joke to Ben about surfing across the river on his board. This happened 10 times, and each time Ben laughed heartily. Hearty, contrived laughter, that only cultural misunderstandings can elicit.

Floods were just part of the homecoming process... more to peep in a sec.

Word Up

Happy Birthday DelavigneCorp.com. 1 day old, and already making the ladies swoon.

Highlights and Tidbits

First, take this:

Then, Frank recommends a valuable website as well:

Now some hot recap action in bullet point form:

* Because northern, coastal Peru is pretty much a desert with a few beaches, it lends itself quite well to the game ´Condor or Vulture´. That´s the game (patent pending) where you try to discern if those giant black birds with ugly pink heads, hovering over carcasses, are condors or vultures. So far the vultures are winning, a lot to none. I´m still holding out hope to see one of these, the Andean Condor, which is the largest flying land bird (whatever that means) in the Western Hemisphere. Check it out.



* More strange bedfellows: first Jesus, now the loudest cricket in Peru finds its way into our bedroom and into our hearts. More specifically it lived in Ben´s backpack for three days. We took turns moving the back pack farther and farther away on the terrace, but the effect was minimal. UPDATE: Ben tells me that the cricket again found its way into his backpack from a t-shirt. Ben tried to let it free, so that it could find its smile, then a staff member saw it on the terrace and promptly stepped on it. RIP, little fella.

* Lastly, you probably already know this, just by looking through our pictures, but I am possibly the biggest gringo in the world. Not physically of course, but in terms of sheer gringosity, I am a force to be reckoned with. I had a sneaking suspicion that this might be the case already, but today, when I walked into a dirty Peruvian gas station in a bright yellow gymglish t-shirt, an enormous, ugly fishing hat (I lost my previous fishing hat on a bus) , and shorts that only colonists like Cecil Rhodes would sport, and asked for change for 100 soles, I began to see the light. I´m working on it...

* Now, we have 8 hours of bus to look forward to. Wish us luck on our way to Mancora, where there had better be sea lions, or... I´ll complain bitterly. What an empty threat that was. I should tell you that we are experiencing a bit of a time crunch that promises to be on the lame side. We have to be in Quito by Wednesday to meet two little friends we like to call Adrien, and Daphnee, and Quito my friends, is a long way away. See you soonish.

Note: Check out the links in this post!

Embracing my inner bear

Like the wisened travel veteran that I am, I figured that I had built up what we in the industry like to call a ´base tan´ by this point, being in such close and regular proximity to the sun. Man was I wrong. I am crispy in the shoulder region, and lobster-colored in the lower lumbar region, also my abdominal wall, aka my gut, is a bit rouge. Only because I know that you appreciate such details about my various stomach ailments and sunburns, I will also mention that being hairy doesn´t agree with being sunburnt. If I had to compare myself to anything, it would be a bear with mange, or some other fur disease. It ain´t pretty. I made this comment to Ben, who responded, ´you should embrace your bear-ness. Girls like bears.´ Priceless words of encouragement. I didn´t have the heart to tell him that gay men also like bears. Also, bears like honey. Now I am trying to embrace my inner bear, so ladies, if you have got some honey on you, prepare to be mauled viciously... followed by bear hugs, lots of bear hugs.

The Chicama Sessions

I suppose I gave Chicama short shrift, because there were some serious breakthroughs there. We were able to spend two cathartic afternoons, including a romantic valentine´s day in the 90 degree heat, testing out different voices and recording them, which inspired a whole lot of goofiness, a new episode of your favorite spanish-language soap, and a half-assed rap song that you won´t want to miss. Special dedication to the Brenner family, and apologies in advance for the poor audio quality. I´m still an amateur with the software and I can´t seem to record in sterey-ery-o. Whatevs... By the way, I have a hard drive full of these delirious outtakes and mic checks, so if they amuse you, holla (in the comments or something). If no comments are received, I´ll continue to post them, just like this: ta da!

All right, I guess I´ll give you my bear post.

Note: Check out the links in this post!

Goodbye Chicama

Well that was fast, actually only 4 nights. Chicama was cool. The swell did come in on the weekend and made for some killer tubes. That made one of us very happy, I´ll let you guess which one of us it was... hint: it wasn´t me. Chicama wasn´t internet friendly, but our hotel staff was very friendly. They enjoyed shaking hands and trying to fix our tv. Well, on to another post ¿why don´t we?

Hello Chicama

Hello from Chicama, home of the longest left-handed wave in the world. Up to two, count them two, kilometers of surf when the wave is lined up and working well, with building swell. Right now, the swell isn't so swell, but we have it on good information that this weekend there will be swell, and hence some killer waves, and possibly some tubes that you can ride in from the break to the beach. It'll be fucking wicked, yo. As you can tell, I'm pumped.


P.S. In the interests of full disclosure, I should inform our vast readership that I´ve been surfing thrice during this trip... so there.

Huanchaco to Chicama

Your new post is percolating. Give it a bit more time. Until then, know that I found a kid wearing a football jersey that said ´Fish Protein´ on it, and I will find a way to either procure my own, or at least document it.

Kinder Eggs: Serious Business

In Cuenca, buying Kinder Eggs, those German-made chocolates with plastic surprises inside, became a tradition. The Kinder Egg provides a multi-faceted experience, I have broken it down into 5 steps.

1. The mediocre chocolate exterior is either consumed hurriedly or tossed aside by Ben in a rush to get at the toy surprise (the toys are contained in a smaller, plastic sub-eggs).

2. The sub-egg is shaken and Ben speculates on what it could contain: a plastic dog, a spaceman on wheels, etc.

3. Ben solicits a bemused guess by me.

4. Ben builds the toy (more often than not assembly is required for these crappy little toys), sometimes using the instructions, other times flaunting his understanding of complex kinder mechanics.

5. Ben reflects on the toy's quality and fun. This is serious discourse like, 'In my day, Kinder Egg toys were better' or 'those Germans have come up with gold'. It is serious business.

Anecdotes of Note

I've decided to delve into the bullet point format. Enjoy.

*The way that Ben talks to animals might be favorite recurring gag of this trip. You would think that I would have outgrown this weeks ago, but no, it still works like a charm.

'Alors Pilou, qu-est ce que tu racontes?'

*We never did eat guinea pigs with those homosexuals. I can't say I'm disappointed. I did eat a bad crab though, and that made me unhappy for a few days.

*Quote of the day from Ben:

"I am very disappointed by the sea lions not showing up."

*For the record, I'm disappointed too.

*Our final story is one of triumph of the human spirit. At the bus station in Trujillo, I stepped outside and saw a man in a yellow vest. He was blocking my progress towards freedom and nicotine, and the freedom that nicotine brings, and he looked somewhat official, so, in a moment of doubt, I decided to show him my passport. I should mention that this was a full day after crossing the border from Ecuador into Peru and also that I was exiting a bus station and not entering it. In any case, he dazzled me with something in his native tongue and I was persuaded that he wanted ill of me. The passport would assure him that I belonged to a nation. Ben, waiting behind the man, kept trying to thrust an orange juice in my hand. I couldn´t take it, given that I was fumbling with a fanny pack at the time. Then Ben asked me what I was doing... I didn´t know. The man was trying to sell me a phone, and I was offering him my passport. He seemed just as confused as me, I'm sure he thought he was actually going to sell a phone to some gringo in a bus station. It was really quite hilarious, I must say. It reminds me of that scene in the Flight of the Conchords when a guy at a pawn shop tries to sell Dave a wedding cake... someone should post that on YouTube, then I could link to it.

*Post on Peru forthcoming...

Vilcabamba: A photo recap-tacular

When last I blogged, I was under the impression that we were Peru-bound, but lo and behold, we stayed in small village of Vilcabamba for two nights more, followed by two days of buses, a topic which deserves a post of its own at some point. In any case, I´ll remind you that we are in full Carnaval season, and water balloons and silly string are all the rage:



.

I do believe a recap is in order. Vilcabamba, in its generosity, gave us such highlights as Horses:


"Hang on, I'll call you right back...Yeah... I'm on a horse... no I don't know how to steer it. I'm a bit scared."


And brisk creeks, perfect for watering:



We met our standard quota of characters here as well, unfortunately undocumented by our mobile phone/camera/stopwatch: a crocodile dundee colonial mother effer who sharpened a machete over a cup of coffee at breakfast, some freaky deaky new wave dude from Marin who insisted on holding his newborn child at ridiculous angles and positions, dangling him by the thigh and suspending him upside down by one foot, and our temperamental innkeeper, the Quebecois Marcel, who once gave us a good laugh when he informed us that he had found us a 'whore' for the night. I guess he meant a room, though both would have been okay at that point. Our first hostel, El Jardin Escondido, also yielded a most unexpected bounty: a worn and used version of this book, which continues to delight, especially on the heels of this dire, but excellent, read. Note: not the best book for a road trip.


In conclusion, Vilcabamba had telephones, and moments. It will be missed. Despite our inability to leave it (it was much like the Hotel California in that way), it was not without its charms. The village's greatest gift however, would have to be the acquaintance of a humble fisherman who shared a room with us on our final night. A foreign fellow in his early 30's, he smelled lightly of fish and wine:

He was nice enough, letting us stay in his tastefully decorated Monastery for only 10 bucks:



Jesus also introduced us to his loyal steed, a friendly fellow and my favorite dog of our trip so far, a boxer curiously named´Box´:


"I'm going to lick the shit out of you, Frenchie, then I'll eat your big gringo friend."

This dog was reminiscent of Scooby Doo in the sense that he frequently jumped into my arms as if I were a modern-day, non-cartoon version of Shaggy. The dog comforted me as we ate crackers and drank wine while waiting for Ben to return from wherever it is he goes at night.

Vilcabamba, the experience was almost religious. We salute you.

Twist my arm will you?

I was trying to put this off until later, but it looks like we´ll be here for awhile, and by here I mean Vilcabamba, a town known for its old people and their uncanny longevity. We´ve met our fair share of seniors here, although most of them are old American and German couples trying to drink from the fountain of youth. On the other hand, the rumors might be true. These kids, for example, are each 98 years old. Tonight´s Carnaval celebration does feature a dancing competetion between local senior citizens however, which unfortunately we will miss. Vilcabamba is the ´spiritual party village´ that our erstwhile Swiss colleague/nemesis raved about. I can´t imagine that he stuck around here for very long, as this place is a bit sleepy, full of holistic massage spots, the Dutch, and horses!

Our horses did not frolic quite so gracefully through fields of lilacs. My horse, Corazon, was however, a trooper. And let´s face it, if a horse is going to carry my gringo ass uphill through first growth jungles for four hours, he better be a trooper. Ben´s horse was named ´Ingraido´, which, if my calculations are correct, means ´Ingrate´ in English. To be determined. Ingrate seemed like a cool horse as well, and ben is a fine horseman. We did some galloping, a little bit of trotting, and what horse ride would be complete without a little bit of cantering? There, now that I´ve exhausted all of my horse vocabulary, I can stick to what I know: comic misadventures. My horse ride actually went as well as can be expected. It was my first time. I think I rode a camel in the Palestine once, but who hasn´t done that? Another question, who knew that horses had to be driven? They just stop when you don´t direct them, and mine stopped quite a few times. Also, my shoes don´t fit into stirrups. Also, horses don´t have pockets. Our guide did a lot of the work for me, giving Corazon an occasional rope lash to the ass whenever he slowed down. All in all, a rich experience, very nice scenery and a nice bonding moment with a large mammal. Good times. Climbing onto the horse, and being around horses in general (we´re sharing a bathroom with a horse couple from Montana) reminded me of this classic clip, particularly when President Bush questions whether or not the horse he sees is in fact a bear or a puma. Enjoy.

Will check in from Peru...

Toodles!