After five fast days in London, I caught a night bus and made my way North to head into a country I had dreamed of visiting since I was a child. Scotland! Scotland, Italy and Africa are three places that ever since I was young I’d dreamed of visiting. For reasons I can’t quite explain, these places have simply called to me, and it’s a call I finally could no longer resist. Continue reading
I did it! I crossed the old pond and at long last touched down in Europe for the first time in my life! It was a heck of journey to get here: a four hour bus ride from Cuenca to Guayaquil at 1am, a three hour flight from Guayaquil to Chile Santiago at 7am, an 11 hour layover in the awful Chilean airport, a four hour flight to Panama, another hour flight to Puerto Rico and after running to my next gate with no time to spare, the eight hour haul overseas to land in Frankfurt to switch one last time for the last little jaunt over to Heathrow Airport in London. I made it!!! I was exhausted, sleep deprived and jet lagged. And of course, on my eight hour overnight flight a two year old toddler sat behind me on his mothers lap kicking my chair and crying hysterically the entire time. I’m not exaggerating here either. I felt terrible for the child and the mother as something was clearly wrong with the kid – the crying was hysterical screaming – not just regular crying. It was exhausting. He would scream himself silly until he passed out, over and over again. I can only assume he had an ear infection or something else the pressure may have aggravated. Continue reading
Cuenca, Ecuador, was a city that I had heard much about, but never made it around to on my first time through Ecuador, mostly due to the fact that I fell in love with Montañita and ended up spending all my time there! So on my second time through the country, I made sure this city was a priority. Hailed as the most beautiful colonial city in the country, it’s easy to understand why. The cobble stone streets, the old baroque buildings and stunning churches; the city has the feeling it’s been trapped in time. You can detect a Parisian influence here as well with some of the charming architecture. Wire moulded flower pots hold vibrant red flowers spilling over them, as the pots cling to the sides of buildings on narrow streets. The strong smell of aromatic Ecuadorian coffee fills the streets, and vendors hawk their snacks on street corners. Continue reading
After Argentina, I flew back into Guayaquil, Ecuador and then bused it out to Montañita to spend some time back on the beach in my favourite spot. The weather wasn’t near as lovely as it was back in June, this was their cloudy/rainy season after all, but it was still warm compared to the rest of South America and I was able to hang out in shorts and a tank top and throw down my yoga mat on the beach and get back in my groove after a long hiatus. I met with old friends, ate at my favourite places, practiced yoga daily, took dips in the ocean and worked on my blog. Continue reading
I don’t think that words can really capture Igazua falls. Rather than attempt to capture that which cannot be, I figured I would just post a photo essay and urge you to visit this majestic place at some point in your life and travels. It’s one of those places in the world that will humble you, steal your breath and give you peace in return. It’s beautiful. Every fall, every mist, every cascade is a majesty. I was lucky enough to be able to sneak into the Brazilian side without paying (Canadian’s and American’s have to pay a huge fee to get into Brazil, even just to see the falls). Thankfully border patrol was lax that day and bought our story of ‘we got lost!’. You can read about the adventure HERE in Laila’s blog! Continue reading
Time was of the essence… Once our three day adventure through the Bolivian back country was over, we overnighted in Uyuni to get ourselves a shower and were up at 5am the next morning to catch a bus to take us to Salta, Argentina, where we would overnight just to break up the extraordinarily long trek to get to Iguazu Falls in Argentina. From Uyuni, Seb and I took an 8 hour bus to the border which turned out to be the worst bus ride of my entire trip thus far. Considering I spent 24 hours on a chicken bus -read about that adventure here- (an old converted school bus, with the original school bus seats still in tact, albeit without any of the padding left), that’s really saying something. Continue reading
After a few peaceful days in Puerto Iguazu, taking in the glory of the falls, I hopped on a long 20 hour bus ride to head straight down to Buenos Aires to meet Anthony. At long last we were meeting back up, but it was under unfortunate circumstances- the day he arrived in Buenos Aires, only minutes after debarking his bus he was robbed of his backpack which had his wallet and passport inside of it. Look for a guest post coming soon on this unfortunate event and how to watch yourself and your things while in Buenos Aires, which is notorious for this type of theft. Continue reading
I was awoken to the sun glinting through our bus window in the wee hours of the morning. It had been a rather fitful sleep, huddling together on the freezing cold bus, drifting in and out of the elusive world of slumber. The road was suddenly a mess of jarring bumps and as I looked out the window I noticed that we were no longer even on a real road; we were on a path through the desert floor. The bumps were from the sand having frozen and hardened in place. The Bolivian desert is a cold and cruel place come sunset, as we would soon find out on our three day tour through this incredible place. We bumped along, savouring the slight warmth the sun was passing through our windows as our breath misted in front of our faces. Continue reading
My body was beaten down. Sore, sick, battered, and utterly exhausted from multiple illnesses and five days trekking through the mountains, I desperately needed to recover. So far I had spent most of my time in South America being sick as a dog. Unfortunately the next stop on my list wasn’t exactly an easy place to travel. In fact, I’d say I was heading into the most unforgiving country yet: Bolivia. I stayed on one more day in Cusco because I was simply too sick to move, but I was still trying to catch up with Anthony so I couldn’t linger too long. With my purse full of drugs, water, kleenex and puke bags, Sally and I set off on an evening bus from Cusco to La Paz. I was feeling absolutely terrible and we were only going to be increasing in altitude as the bus chugged on. I was miserable and couldn’t sleep and waves of nausea over took me. Continue reading
It was a long 18 hour bus ride through some hard terrain to reach the renowned city of Cusco. The bus ride left Sally feeling awful; it was the high altitude and the tight corners that we zipped around at dizzying heights as the cliffs fell away below us. Sally had to close the blinds and force herself to not think about it as it was giving her some major anxiety. Eventually she dozed with the help of some sedatives, and I spent the whole evening trying my best to sleep and failing miserably as I always do on night bus rides. I listened to my music and only snagged about an hour of sleep around sunrise. We rolled into Cusco at 8am and stepped off the bus into a frigid morning, our breath misting heavily in front of our faces. Sally quite literally screamed as she desperately tried to layer on more clothing as quickly as possible. Continue reading
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