Got your coffee??? I hope so...cuz here we go again...


So about half way up the mountain --huffing and puffing profusely-- I began to wonder how in the world that old man was able to make it up the INSANE amount of steps. At one point, I ran across this sign, which I found to be rather irritating --although it could have just been my extreme exhaustion and desire to be at the top already...you be the judge.



My thought was that if you've already been climbing for about 30 minutes up a mountain with only one trail, don't you think you would already know where you're headed and not need a sign to show you which way was up and which was down??? Maybe I'm crazy, but I found it to be an irritating reminder that I was still not particularly close to the top.

Once I reached the platform at the base of the peak, I found another similar sign --although this one wasn't as irritating. This one pointed me in the direction of a tiny cave above that I was to attempt to climb through. And I do mean attempt, because the cave was particularly tiny and I'm no large individual...so the Incas not only had tiny feet, but were just all around small.



After climbing through the cave, I was pleased to find myself only a small wooden ladder's climb away from the peak. However once I traversed that ladder, I was wishing I hadn't. While the view was unbelievable, I was frantically looking around for the way back down only to find that there was a particularly narrow and steep slope that had to be crossed and then a series of insanely narrow steps to be descended before I would be able to reach the steady decline that wound down the rest of the mountain.



I'll spare you the nail-biting details of my descent and simply state that I made it to the bottom --with insanely shaky legs, but still in one piece, and then welcomed the train ride back to the city.



I wanted to mention before heading to Bolivia, that I visited a number of museums in Peru and was shocked at what I found. The majority were run down, damp churches cluttered with tattered, unlit, unframed, unmarked canvases. And not only were the majority of the pieces in terrible condition --probably worse than I was able to tell since they were lit by nothing more than one tiny light bulb per room-- but in about half, visitors were allowed to take photographs of the art. I couldn't bring myself to photograph any of the older works, but when I visited the contemporary art museum, I snapped a few of the more interesting pieces.



This museum was set up differently from the others in the sense that it had an open-air courtyard half-filled with art, and half-filled with a Bonsai Tree collection. And while I found the collection rather impressive, I was confused as to its relation to the rest of the surrounding art work.

Next stop...Bolivia
--Bolivia didn't contain much excitement, so instead of another intermission, I'm going to plow through--

As I said, Bolivia wasn't particularly exciting --not to mention I was running out of steam at this point and la Paz is one of the highest cities in the world...so the altitude made physical activity a bit more difficult than usual-- but it did have one particular sight that I was looking forward to visiting: The Witches' Market. I really had no idea if the market would be all that I had hoped --I was envisioning little old ladies in tiny shops filled with random potions and herbs and such-- but I had to go to find out.

I was slightly disappointed with the market...sadly. there were only a few shops with actual "witchy" items and the rest were mostly filled with the usual trinkets and clothing of the country. The few shops that were "witchy", however, were quite astonishing. I only dared to go into one since the women outside the doors were waving things in the air and attempting to convince anyone and everyone to enter, but that one was enough. It was a creaky wood-floored room with high ceilings. The walls were lined with wooden shelves stuffed with bottles and tins and statues and candles of all different shapes and sizes and colors. And to top it all off...they sold llama fetus'. And not just any old llama fetus mind you...they sold shriveled llama fetus'. And you had the choice of hairless or not...eeee --i passed on that one in case you were wondering...didn't think i could get it back across the border.



One other thing that I found in Bolivia --la Paz to be exact-- was the familiar broken glass lined walls. I'm beginning to see that this is a South American thing and not just Chilean.



Well...I think that about concludes my trip to the north --finally...i know. I'll leave you with an image I took on my way back home from Peru (on another 2 day journey)...enjoy!!!