Friday, May 30, 2025

Tambopata

As great as it was to travel for the first week in Peru with our daughters, DW and I agree that we're an absolute dynamo when we travel together, just the two of us.

Now, granted, Kid 2 really suffered from altitude sickness, heat exhaustion, and was just recovering from an illness before she left for Peru, but there were so many times when she just couldn't come out or, if she did, was suffering. Poor sweetie.

And also, when we returned to Lima, I got sick the first night and sat out the entire next day. DW and the girls visited a museum and explored the Barranco neighbourhood while I suffered in the hotel, and apparently they did fairly well.

But when DW and I travel on our own, we just go go go.

We put the kids in a taxi at our Lima hotel and said goodbye as they headed for the airport. I constantly monitored our Signal group chat, ready to offer any assistance if needed. I also worried until I knew they were safely home, as is my duty as a loving dad.

DW and I had a couple more hours in Lima, and we walked to the cliffs that overlook the Pacific coastline, visiting the park that is dedicated to the Chinese community, the park with the marine lighthouse, and Love Park, where we had watched the sun set two nights earlier (before I got sick). But we also needed to take a taxi to the airport and arrived shortly after the kids' plane took of for Atlanta, Georgia.

(I tell you, I was more worried about them being in the U.S. than I was of them being in the taxi in Lima or any other part of their journey home.)

DW and I flew to Puerto Maldonado, a small town in the Tambopata region of Peru, in the Amazon basin. We arrived at dinnertime, checked into our hotel, which was near the junction of the Rio Madre de Dios (Mother of God River) and the Tambopata River, and then wandered the town in search of dinner, which we found at the Puzanga Bar. We ordered one dish of slider burgers, which came with four mini hamburgers and some really tasty fries. We weren't hungry enough to eat four sliders but we could handle two, each, and the fries were more than enough for the two of us. We washed each down with a dark lager, Cusqueña Negra, which was perfect.


We noticed a karaoke venue, across the street, and decided to check it out after dinner. It was called Bambino Karaoke. When we entered, we saw lots of kids with their parents, and we were greeted by someone who told us, through Google translate, that the venue was for kids only.


We should have clued in with a name like bambino.

The next day, we were picked up by our tour organizer and brought to their main office. We were going to be spending four nights with the folks at Chuncho Lodge, though one of those nights was going to be at another location. We waited for other guests to arrive from the airport, whereafter we climbed into a minibus and driven for about 90 minutes on a newish highway and a very badly maintained dirt road, where we caught up further downstream on the Tambopata River.

From there, we climbed onto a long boat and were taken to a spot across the river and a bit further downstream to our lodge. We were greeted by our host, who explained our various mealtimes, how power to the ecolodge was limited to certain times of the day, only, and warned us that there was no hot water available.

We were in the hands of our guide, Donald, who would be taking care of us over the five days.

As soon as we were shown to our room, DW and I had a nap. Donald said that we would meet at 4:00, when he would take us for a walk through the jungle that surrounded our lodge. Rubber boots were provided to us and the other two couples, who would be with us throughout our stay.

At the appointed time, we set out into the forest, which was already growing dark from the heavy vegetation. Donald stressed the importance of staying on the path and not touching anything unless directed by him.

He showed us the difference between primary-growth and secondary-growth forests, taking us to samples of both. He pointed out various plants and trees, and whenever we heard a sound in the dense growth, he'd tell us what was making the sound.

Squirrel monkeys, often.


As the sun was growing lower in the sky, Donald led us up a 35-metre tower that took us up over the canopy of the jungle. From there, we could watch the sun set and we even saw a few birds making their way to where they wanted to stay for the night.

We stayed above the trees for a long time, listening, in silence, as the jungle seemed to come alive.



Donald led us down to the jungle floor and took us on a night tour, pointing out the lizards, snakes, tarantulas, and other wildlife that we encountered. I don't know how he was able to spot things so quickly, but we were sure to stay close behind him and not touch anything.


On day two, Donald took us down the Tambopata River and on another trek through the jungle, where we came to a creek with a bend in it. There was a small clay lick, where macaws would often come, but we ended up sitting for more than an hour without any birds coming to the clay wall, which was mostly covered and shaded by trees, anyway.

At one point, Donald pointed out that two black squirrels had made their way to the clay, but because we have black, grey, and red squirrels in abundance in our backyard, I didn't even turn to look.

I did see a pair of scarlet macaws fly overhead and I managed to get just one shot before they disappeared.


After lunch, Donald took us up a small creek where he taught us how to fish for piranhas. We saw red-bellied and silver piranhas, and I managed to catch three. Donald would carefully take the fish off the hook and point out characteristics of the fish before letting them go. Our boat driver caught a particularly large silver piranha that was badly snagged on the hook, so we decided to keep that one to cook up at dinner.

I talk about that fish in another post.


The next morning, we met in the wee hours, at 4:30, and climbed onto a boat that took us upstream, to the famous clay licks, where macaws, parakeets, and parrots flock to to obtain the salt from the clay. I've also already talked about that adventure in a previous blog post but thought I'd share some of the photos from that morning adventure.

 

On day four, we packed up all of our belongings and returned to Puerto Maldonado, where we had to economize space and only pack our day bags, leaving our main backpacks at the lodge office. I opted for bare essentials: my passport, my D-SLR with the 200-500mm lens, spare batteries and chargers, smartphone, a raincoat, shower shoes, toothbrush and toothpaste, and fresh underwear.

Everything else was left in Puerto Maldonado.

We took a boat down the Rio Madre de Dios and made our way to Sandoval Lake, which was easily one of the highlights of our time in the Amazon basin. We saw baby Giant Otters, cayman, monkeys, and countless species of birds.


I'll never forget our sunset paddle, which lasted until we only had starlight by which to navigate. Whenever we turned on a flashlight, bats as big as seagulls were fluttering around us.

The next day, we left camp early enough to take another leisurely paddle around the lake, when we saw even more wildlife.

Back in Puerto Maldonado, we said goodbye to our fellow travellers and to Donald, and DW and I hung around in this small town for one more day before we flew back to Lima, where we spent another 24 hours or so before heading home.


As I've said before, Peru had its challenges, from effects of high altitudes, to gastrointestinal issues, to the heat and humidity of the jungle, but it's a place I'd like to visit again, if given the opportunity. The people, the scenery, the culture, the rich history, and the food are worth every minute.

I still have more pictures from my trip but I'll wait and share them in upcoming Wordless Wednesday posts. But from here, I think I've presented enough of Peru to give you a taste for it. I have videos that will be popping up in the next few weeks, so stay tuned for those.

Happy Friday!

Thursday, May 29, 2025

City in the Clouds

Neither photos nor video can do it justice.

That's what I heard before I ever laid eyes on the Incan city of Machu Picchu. I had seen tons of photographs and viewed countless videos, especially in our family's lead-up to visiting this historic site, and thought that if the images cannot do the place justice, it must be pretty spectacular to see.

It is.

And while my own photos cannot do justice to the city that fades in and out of clouds, here is some of what I captured, anyway.


Happy Thursday!

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

Experimental Farm

Long before Ottawa's Central Experimental Farm existed, where scientists test various crops and farming techniques, the Incan people in Peru were doing similar work.

It is said that the Incans cultivated thousands of varieties of potatoes, with only a few dozen actually edible by humans. They also developed several varieties of corn.

To determine the best growing conditions for various crops, it has been theorized that the Incans created testing grounds, where various terraces saw the growth of various crops in various positions that faced toward or away from the sun, and at different elevations.

Evidence of these experimental growing sites exists today, in the Sacred Valley between Cusco and Machu Picchu. And on our recent trip, we hired a taxi to take us to it.

The Zona Arqueologica Moray was a short distance from the Salineras de Maras, our first stop in the Sacred Valley. Our driver dropped us off at the entrance and then parked a short way away and waited for us to return.

A path leads down toward the lower part of these terraced, circular sites. We walked around the perimeter of two archeological constructs, the height of them being over 3,400 metres in elevation.

Walking down was easy. Walking back up was a struggle for Kid 2, who wasn't coping well with altitude sickness, and me, who has a reduced lung capacity after contracting COVID in 2022.

But we're both glad we saw these marvellous terraces.


From here, our driver took us back to Urubamba, dropping us off at a restaurant that he highly recommended. It was phenomenal.

We then caught another collectivo back to Ollantaytambo, where we explored the ruins at sunset. The total cost of transportation was 174 soles (less than $66 Canadian), which was more reasonable than the 250 soles that the driver for our B&B wanted to charge.

The next day, we caught a 5:00 am train to Machu Picchu. I've already shared some photos from that day but not the photos from my D-SLR.

I'll do that, tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Salineras de Maras

On our first full day in Ollantaytambo, a beautiful Incan town that's about a two-hour drive northwest of Cusco, DW, our two daughters, and I caught a collectivo—a community bus—to the nearby town of Urubamba, in the heart of the Sacred Valley.

Our B&B offered their driver, the man who picked us up at the airport in Cusco and drove us to Ollantaytambo, to drive us for the day, but wanted to charge us 250 soles (about $100 Canadian) to do so. We were fairly certain that we could get to the Sacred Valley for less, and the collectivo was a great start, costing only 12 soles (about $4.50) for all four of us for the hour-and-a-half ride.

The ride was great, since we were the only foreigners on this mini bus and we got to meet locals, including one woman, dressed in traditional Peruvian garb, wearing a tall, felt hat, who fell asleep next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. A private car wouldn't have given us that experience.

Once in Urubamba, we were let out at a bus terminal and there were several taxis waiting to whisk travellers to places that the collectivo didn't go. We found one driver and explained to him that we wanted to visit the salt mines in Maras—Salineras de Maras—and the archeological site in Moray.

He agreed to take us to both places for 120 soles ($45 Canadian). Sold.

He turned out to be a great guide. Even though he didn't speak any English, both DW and I were able to communicate with him: DW used her rusty Spanish that she learned in university (she brushed up in the months before we started our vacation) and I relied heavily on the Google translator, though I was surprised by how much I understood him when he and DW were conversing.

I even corrected her when she misheard our driver.

Our driver pulled over, as we were nearing the entrance to the salt mines, and pointed to some birds in the grass a few dozen metres away. He said what they were, in Spanish, but DW and I couldn't understand him. But he gave me enough time to change lenses on my D-SLR to my 200–500mm and try to capture photos, even though they really were too far away, and flew farther away after snapping a couple of shots.

This was the best I could get. I was able to later (and by later, I mean yesterday) identify them as Chimango caracaras.


We passed a small building, where a few llamas were grazing, out front, and our driver told us it was a good place to stop for authentic chocolate and salt from the mines. We said we'd stop on our way back.

As we approached Salineras de Maras, the driver pulled over again, at a great lookout point, so that we could get out and take photos from above. Still with my telephoto lens on the camera, I got some great images.


Our driver waited in the car while the girls and I explored this fascinating mine, which is believed to be up to 3,000 years old, well before the Incas. And the mines are still operational today.


After our visit, as promised, we stopped at the shop that we had passed on our way in. It turned out to be a very good recommendation, as one of the locals spoke English and gave us sample drinks of chicha morada (a semi-sweet beverage made from purple corn) and chicha de jora, a fermented drink made from yellow corn. She explained the chocolate-making process and discussed the different types of salt that comes from the mines.


We bought several packages of chocolate and salt, and I took photos of the llamas and the photo that I shared last Friday before we got back in our cab and our driver took us to our next destination. I'll share that spot, tomorrow.


Stay tuned.