El Alto – The city of the peasant’s dreams or my worse nightmare
The car horns sounded like angry hyenas. In front of me stops, arrived from nowhere, a combi (local transport), disposing into the street more people than one would think posible to fit inside. I try to turn left but there are queues of cars and trucks transmiting black clouds to an already densely charged atmosphere. People cross themselves in front of me as if I were invisible. On top of my head, hanging signs, announcing the most disparate things as hairdressing, transport companies, universities ... and those who do not count on help from signs to advertise their business, do so in in a high and loud voice, shouting prices of transports, fresh bread, fruit, meat, telephone calls ... There are people sitting on the floor selling cheap Chinese goods, fruit and taking from the road the little space available for movement. Hungry dogs and garbage everywhere, and many, many people walking from one place to another as if they were going nowhere. El Alto is like a city for people who don’t know how to live in a city or the purpose of it. It seems a gigantic machine from which the pieces were released and are uncoordinated, without order or direction!
The car horns sounded like angry hyenas. In front of me stops, arrived from nowhere, a combi (local transport), disposing into the street more people than one would think posible to fit inside. I try to turn left but there are queues of cars and trucks transmiting black clouds to an already densely charged atmosphere. People cross themselves in front of me as if I were invisible. On top of my head, hanging signs, announcing the most disparate things as hairdressing, transport companies, universities ... and those who do not count on help from signs to advertise their business, do so in in a high and loud voice, shouting prices of transports, fresh bread, fruit, meat, telephone calls ... There are people sitting on the floor selling cheap Chinese goods, fruit and taking from the road the little space available for movement. Hungry dogs and garbage everywhere, and many, many people walking from one place to another as if they were going nowhere. El Alto is like a city for people who don’t know how to live in a city or the purpose of it. It seems a gigantic machine from which the pieces were released and are uncoordinated, without order or direction!
I had cycled over 90 kilometres that day, I was tired and nothing could have prepared for that apotheotic arrival. El Alto is a satellite city of La Paz. And if La Paz was an eye then El Alto would be its eyebrow, an eyebrow where half a million people live, mostly peasants who abandoned their life in the arid highlands and discover there, some, their luck, and others, like me, their worst nightmare.
We looked for accommodation for over two hours but everything was full and what was available was sub-human. That night we did the great extravagance of the trip: we stayed in a 3-star hotel in one of its suites. There was a porter, who took our dusty luggage, a real treat for us, vagabond cyclists. On the fifth floor with panoramic views over the city of chaos, we felt like fish in an aquarium, protected from reality of the city, but, somehow, still part of it. The extravagance didn’t turn out too expensive, the Hotel Alexander, who was promoted as the best hotel in the city costed us a mere 10 US dollars each, we deserved it.
Machu Pichu - The story of a happy day
My breathing was wheezing. I climbed in less than one hour the thousands of steep that led me to one of the most beautiful sites on this planet - Wayna Pichu, the steep mountain of Machu Pichu, where one can enjoy the panoramic view of the ruins and the lush scenery that surrounds it. Tourists began to arrive and sit on the craggy rocks waiting for the big show to start. All around was covered by dense fog, green and precipices. As if in a dream, the clouds began to move prefiguring the lazy ruins which awoke slowly at our feet. Aahhhh! A unisonous choir of voices sounded, but again came another cloud that covered everything. At mid-morning the sun had imposed its presence and the clouds decided to reveal the show for which all had waited - Machu Pichu at our feet!
Machu Pichu - The story of a happy day
My breathing was wheezing. I climbed in less than one hour the thousands of steep that led me to one of the most beautiful sites on this planet - Wayna Pichu, the steep mountain of Machu Pichu, where one can enjoy the panoramic view of the ruins and the lush scenery that surrounds it. Tourists began to arrive and sit on the craggy rocks waiting for the big show to start. All around was covered by dense fog, green and precipices. As if in a dream, the clouds began to move prefiguring the lazy ruins which awoke slowly at our feet. Aahhhh! A unisonous choir of voices sounded, but again came another cloud that covered everything. At mid-morning the sun had imposed its presence and the clouds decided to reveal the show for which all had waited - Machu Pichu at our feet!
Me and Nuno walked away from the crowds and found a terrace of stone only for us to enjoy in peace the beauty of that site. I closed my eyes and thought about everything I had achieved in my life. In how happy I was. In how privileged I was: was living my dream, traveling the world! And not all dreams that I dreamt gave me what I expected from them. But to travel, to travel is more than a dream is a state of mind that completely makes me be who I am, in my real self! In the midst of divagations I also looked at the map that was taking shape in my mind, this map would take me to ride on the shores of Lake Titicaca, to cycle Bolivia, to reach the big city of La Paz .. and then who knows, the Salares, the Atacama desert, Chile, Argentina ...
Encircled by centuries of history, silent stones, luxuriant vegetation, I thanked my mother to be the wonderful mother that she is, for her unconditional support. Thanked my brother, a tall handsome man with black hair, a childhood friend, and a friend of all times, he accepted to lend me money so that my dream could last for a few more months and to my father with whom I do not share everything I wished to, but whom equally accepted to finance me, on loan basis, for a few months.
We descended the steps, slowly the end of the afternoon started to hide again the ruins of Machu Pichu. Tomorrow would be another day where thousands of tourists would see, what is by right considered one of the 7 wonders of the world. We arrived in Aguas Calientes with tired legs, tortured by walking so much. Our spirits were more fulfilled than ever.
Steep steps
Cycling the banks of Lake Titicaca and entry into the Bolivía
I left Cusco on a rainy morning, a car almost ran over me and my bicycle when I was heading towards the bus station. I had decided to spend a few more days in the Inca capital and meet Nuno in Puno, a tourist city in western shores of Lake Titicaca near the border with Bolivia. My desire to leave Peru as soon as possible and avoid the roads full of heavy traffic was bigger than to cycle 400 kilometers on the arid highlands landscape.
Puno is an ugly city, but unfortunately, this was something that I was already used to in Peru and pretty much everywhere throughout South America. It seemed made of adobe, but that didn’t really contribute to its beauty. It is on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. Puno receives thousands of tourists every day, but the attractives that the city itself offers to visitors are really limited.
The snow caped mountains that surround Titicaca Lake
We were decided to cycle the eastern side of Titicaca Lake. The little information available about that route was that it is land of smugglers and uncertain but quiet roads - perfect! At least when the other option meant sharing a bad road with buses filled with tourists and heavy traffic. We had planned to make by boat the floating villages, but we woke up late the next morning and missed the only boat there was that day. The setback ended up in our favour: that day there was a national strike that resulted in empty roads without traffic. In fact we were not so sure that those islands would be so interesting now that the only real aspect of it are tourists and indigenous selling their souvenirs.
Nuno with Titicaca Lake on the background
The Titicaca lake has dark blue waters, the air around them is very pure and therefore one can see, as if it those mountains were just right next to us. Thousands and thousands of years, when the oceanic plates collided with the continental ones and formed the Andean mountain ranges (eastern and western), a large body of water rose up and became stuck between the mountains creating a lake as big as a sea. The Lake Titicaca and all other lakes that are in the Peruvian and Bolivian altiplano, are what remains of that huge lake that was the birthplace of civilizations. In the altiplano (highlands) rivers and lakes are systems that communicate with each other, since the eastern and western mountain ranges obstruct the passage of water into the oceans. We cycled through small villages that flank the big lake and at the end of the day camped beside it, hearing the sound of small waves caressing the stones on its shores. The night sky was indigo blue and the stars reflected its light in the tranquil waters. These were our last days in Peru, soon we would be in Bolivia, a country that we had great expectations for.
The Titicaca lake has dark blue waters, the air around them is very pure and therefore one can see, as if it those mountains were just right next to us. Thousands and thousands of years, when the oceanic plates collided with the continental ones and formed the Andean mountain ranges (eastern and western), a large body of water rose up and became stuck between the mountains creating a lake as big as a sea. The Lake Titicaca and all other lakes that are in the Peruvian and Bolivian altiplano, are what remains of that huge lake that was the birthplace of civilizations. In the altiplano (highlands) rivers and lakes are systems that communicate with each other, since the eastern and western mountain ranges obstruct the passage of water into the oceans. We cycled through small villages that flank the big lake and at the end of the day camped beside it, hearing the sound of small waves caressing the stones on its shores. The night sky was indigo blue and the stars reflected its light in the tranquil waters. These were our last days in Peru, soon we would be in Bolivia, a country that we had great expectations for.
Puerto Acosta, where the invisible line that separates Peru and Bolivia passes through and that gives two nationalities to Titicaca Lake, was the most beautiful border that I ever had crossed. It may sound bizarre; because in reality the international borders do not generally reserve great attractions. But there at the top of the mountain with the blue and the immensity of the lake at my feet, without officers, without confusion, the world seemed an almost perfect place. I thought that would be good if one day all borders of the world were like this one.
From La Paz to Oruro - the altiplano
We had the contact of a couple who hosted cyclists in El Alto, so after we enjoyed our suite at the Hotel Alexander, we stayed with the kind Wilma and Jesus. We stayed in their house for a few days while we updated sites and discovered La Paz.
La Paz is located on a steep and deep canyon, surrounded by mountains of high altitude. The silhouette of Illimani, a large snow caped mountain, behind the urban scene, is the icon image of the city. La Paz is the capital of the Bolivian government but Sucre also disputes the title to be the country’s capital. It seems to me difficult to understand what is the status of this city, the Bolivians are a people divided and plagued by political and social issues and is curious to see how that affects the decision and the consensus even to elect its capital.
Laz Paz and the Illimani on the background
La Paz is 20 minutes away from El Alto, but these cities are years of light from each other. La Paz is somewhat a sophisticated city with colonial and neo-classic buildings, in its streets there are cafes, theaters, promenades, gardens ... the families stroll at the weekends in their best attire, the atmosphere feels a little like being in a European city. But La Paz is also set in the altiplano, where campesinos (peasants), constitute 70 percent of the Bolivian population, and that is why in La Paz, in the midst of all the sophistication, we can see with their black braids, round skirts, coconut hats - the cholitas, or campesinas, mostly selling handicrafts or some other type of informal trade.
Although we were enjoying the hospitality of Wilma and Jesus, El Alto was taking over our patience. Every day we had to cross the city to return to the house of our hosts, fighting crowds of people, unbearable noise, litter, it was truly overwhelming. At night, although we were in the fourth floor, the noise from the streets wouldn’t let us rest. We left after 5 days towards Oruro.
Me and Wilma
Me and Jesus
Leaving El Alto and the Cordillera Real
We cycled 300 kilometers in three days and a morning, from El Alto to Oruro. I cycled, for the first time in my life, 100 kilometres in a day. I was happy and motivated. I knew that the next months of cycling would be tough, but doing those kilometers in such a short amount of time gave me a lot of energy. I felt stronger than ever.
Oruru is a mining town, its centre is pleasant, but the reality of the country’s poverty and lack of infra-structures is displayed on the outskirts of the city. It is also in Oruro where one of the most pouplar Carnivals of South America is celebrated. Once a year, the uninteresting streets, fill up with color, music, beings of mythology, and women in bare legs.
Oruro
Statue from the mythology, represented in the Carnival of Oruro
We stayed in Residential Vergara. The owners' sons were young doctors with whom we became friends. In one afternoon, me and Juan Carlos, one of the son’s, cycled the city and its surroundings to see some of its attractions, Juan explained the meaning of the statues on the entrance to the city, we then visited a huge open sky gold mine, for this it was created an artificial lake used for cooling the machinery used. We ended the day looking and taking photos of the sunset in lake Popóo, where the river Desaguadero flows the waters from Titicaca Lake. Popóo is part of the many lakes in the altiplano that formed a big lake thousands of years ago.
Me and Juan Carlos
The artificial lake from the gold mine in Oruro
Me with Lake Popóo in the background
Lake Popóo at sunset
The next pedal strokes would take us to the Salar de Uyuni Coipasa and we were eager for adventure. We would get more than we actually barged for ... but those are other stories.
Lake Popóo at sunset
The next pedal strokes would take us to the Salar de Uyuni Coipasa and we were eager for adventure. We would get more than we actually barged for ... but those are other stories.
Accompain my adventures also on Nuno’s site in http://www.ontheroad.eu.com/
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário