After spending many an hour studying different blogs and websites I was convinced that the Salkantay Trek was the perfect hiking adventure to rebalance after two weeks at the UN. I didn't manage to talk any friends into it, so I stocked up and set off on my own... Day One: Cusco to Pampa Salkantay I wandered down to Larcomar at 4.15am to find myself a collectivo van, the cheapest way to Mollepata, the nearest village to the trailhead. After arguing with a taxi driver and having a moment of nerves as it appeared none of the vans were headed that way, finally a driver waved me over and I was on my way for 15 soles (about NZ$7). As I stared sleepily out the window the dawn gradually lit up the countryside, granting me my first taste of Peru's mountains, and excitement started to bubble up in my tummy. As we neared Mollepata we picked up a handful of small kids hitch hiking the long walk to school. They brought an air of excitement to the van, grinning away. Reaching Mollepata I negotiated a ride to the trailhead at Soraypampa. The driver didn't want to take me the whole way, but offered to take me to Marcocasa, which he assured me was only a three hour walk to Soraypampa. It turns out that the trail from there is much less used, and it took me about five hours to get to Soraypampa, up some serious mountains. However the walk from Marcocasa was one of my favourite parts of the trip, as the only people I encountered were a couple of school kids and a small number of peasant farmers. I also met two pretty nervous alpacas, and the mountains were incredible, revealing themselves between waves of cloud. When my trail met the road to Soraypampa I met two American guys, Robert and Keith, who would become my two new best friends. We had been walking together barely ten minutes when we saw a condor, and all stood breathless watching it take off and soar down-valley. From Soraypampa, one of the guides (there are MANY groups on the main trail walking with guides and mules) told me that if I kept walking another two hours, the campground at Pampa Salkantay was much nicer and I would avoid the crowds. My new friends had already boosted ahead to attempt the pass, so I pushed my tired legs onward. An hour later I found Robbie and Keith headed back, telling me the weather was packing in and they could see the rain. Seeing that I was keen to continue anyway, they joined me and turned back around. Pampa Salkantay was indeed gorgeous, and we camped in a rock bivvy at 4,200m surrounded by mighty maunga. Day Two: Pampa Salkantay to Collpapampa The following morning we were awoken by swarms of hikers admiring our campsite, a bit of a shock to the system after a peaceful night. We joined the crowds and began the tough morning ascent to El Paso. I was so very grateful to have two other solo hikers for solidarity, as group after group hiked past without packs, or riding mules, while we struggled with the altitude, the gradient, and our hefty packs. The views made it oh so worth it though, and that wonderful combination of endorphins and mountain stoke had me grinning like those kids in the collectivo. Shit.Yeah. Making our way down the other side the weather worsened, and by lunch time we were maybe a little envious of the groups with hot meals awaiting them. We gathered in the spare shelter with the stray dogs and cooked noodles, giving each other pep talks. During the afternoon the scenery began to change and we saw more vegetation. The boys began to lose me to endless plant gawking as I marvelled at the biodiversity thriving at such altitude. Around 4.30pm we arrived at the point where the groups would spend the night. So far we'd had our hearts set on making it to the thermal springs at Collpapampa, but had been told it was much too far to make that day. I sought advice from one of the hosts and learned that it really wasn't much further, so I coerced the lads into walking just a little further. We set up camp on a woman's lawn in Collpapampa (only another 20min on the road!), and walked the extra 20minutes down to the springs. After a delicious hour soaking our exhausted muscles, we made our way back to camp amid a flurry of fireflies, and ate a hot meal our host had prepared for us. Utter perfection. Day Three: Collpapampa to Llactapata This morning as the first groups arrived in the village, we were sitting on the porch enjoying a cooked breakfast, smiling sweetly at them over our coffee. Muahaha. That breakfast did us a world of good too, and we found to our surprise that we passed most of the groups and caught up to the lead hikers before lunch. The trail was gorgeous, following the river and winding in and out of jungle. Wild strawberries lined the path, and the most beautiful flowers of every colour. We crossed several rustic log bridges, passed a man leading a pig, and seemed to arrive into La Playa just as school had finished for the holidays -– Robbie took great pleasure in wishing the kids 'feliz navidad', and they loved it. So bloody cute. We took a hearty lunch at La Playa, knowing we faced a brutal ascent in the afternoon. Many of the guides told us not to head to Llactapata that day, and there was a bit of a lunchtime domestic between the bro's about their plans. In the end we all pressed on. In the next three hours we gained 1000m elevation, following an old Inca trail. It was killer, in every meaning of the word. Awesome, stunning, intense, tough. We fell in love with these flocks of small bright green birds which swooped above the treetops, squawking like mad. So gorgeous from above. The trail eventually curved around to lead us into the next valley and just as the Tres Amigos were getting pretty weary, an old Inca wall came into view. Engulfed by adrenaline I broke into a run (slash awkward jog), emerging into a clearing in front of the Llactapata Inca ruins, overlooking Machu Picchu. It was everything I had hoped for and totally took my breath away. We set up camp by the ruins and watched the light fade over Machu before setting off down the trail, following a sign promising ten minutes to hot showers,water and food. The boys went ahead. Thirty minutes later I emerged muddy, bleeding, exhausted, to learn that there were no hot showers or food, but I could buy a small bottle of water for five soles. So much rage. To be fair it is the off-peak season, but... There is no reasoning with a tired grumpy pixie. So it was an uphill mission by headlamp through the jungle back to camp. The heat was smothering, and clothes just weren't that fun. We got back to camp to find we had company -– their minds must have boggled as I emerged from the jungle barefoot and muddy, wearing only a headlamp and undies and ROARRRRING!!!! This was the best night of them all, as the sky cleared and I got the starry night I had hoped for. We could also see a far away lightning storm shuddering over the mountains. Amazing. Day Four: Llactapata to Hydroelectrica to Cusco
We awoke bright and early to watch the day break over Machu, and then faced the steep downhill to Hydro. It took us maybe three hours, and then it was time to part ways. I had decided not to shell out the big bucks to do Machu Pichu, but to use the extra day to set off for Lake Titicaca and get to see a little more. So I bid those two wonderful men farewell and sat down to a kick ass chicken meal before catching a taxi and two collectivos back to Cusco. We ended up taking all kinds of rural side routes to drop people at their farms, which was actually really special. I got to see men working their oxen in the fields, peasant women in their colourful dresses, adorable towns with cobbled streets and a picturesque lake. The Salkantay was one of the toughest hikes I have ever done, but I would absolutely recommend it. The diversity of landscapes, the novelty of staying in quaint towns and eating (super cheap) local food, and THOSE MOUNTAINS! Just do it. I'm hooked. I can't wait to return and hike the crap out of these mountains. Shit yeah.
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It's been three days now since I touched down in Jorge Chavez airport, negotiated my way to a Yellow Fever vaccination, and giggled so much that the (female) doctor accused me of being coquetear (flirty), but also told me I was sexy. Strange, confusing, hilarious, and delightful - welcome to Lima. My three days have only grazed the surface of what Lima has to offer me, but here's what I have loved. The sunsets - crepúsculo is not only my favourite word in the world but my favourite time of day here. Watching the sun sink into the Pacific is unbeatable. Navigating the city with broken english is endlessly entertaining, challenging and fun. I am learning useful words like ovalo (roundabout) and no bolsa por favor (no plastic bag please). The taxi drivers are actually insane, weaving frantically through traffic, cutting off everyone and not giving way, ignoring the cacophony of blaring horns. It's kind of exhilarating. The food - I've only just begun to explore the taste of Lima, but daaaamn! Apparently Peruvians have the third largest number of national dishes of any country in the world. Game on. So far I am in love with manjar blanco, kind of like caramel condensed milk, a filling for pastries etc. Desserts are about as far as I have gotten so far, and pisco sours, the national drink (booze). Unfortunately I tried pisco after a night of Caipirinha (Brazilian) overindulgence, and I wasn't a big fan. Oh, but the fruit! Figs, melons, and an ongoing 'guess the fruit' competition with strange mystery ones I bring home. Heaven. Discovering little beauties. I am in love with the Huaranhuay trees (Tecomba sambucifolia) which brighten up the city with their yellow leaves. I also found a very cool wee fern in Barranco, which made our host comment later that I was a very strange girl. There was a special moment watching two vulchars perched in the foreground of a crescent moon, and the time I spied a vermillion flycatcher from my taxi of death, proudly puffing up his little red chest. The architecture is beautiful, the busses a nightmare, and the men unrelenting. The traffic never ceases, and everything is open late except the botanical garden that I arrived at just in time for closing. It's manic, and I love it.
I have to confess, I’ve struggled supremely in any attempts to begin to put words to my Burning Man experience. And yet here I begin.
One of the hardest things about talking about Burning Man, is that what you experienced out there was just so entirely outside of our normal parameters of existence, that we really don’t have any familiar frames of reference. You truly have to experience it to get it. But to say that to someone can make you seem a little full of it. I remember tiring of hearing people return from the Playa with incessant talk of all the things they miss about Burning Man – I mean, you were only there for a week bro! But there truly is something about BM that just gets under your skin. One guy remarked to me, that if you bring a partner to BM,one week on the Playa is like two years of real life, in terms of the stage of the relationship you will be at. I felt a connection to that statement. Life on the Playa is one intense roller coaster. You might feel the happiest you’ve ever felt in your life as you sit and watch the sunrise with four of your new best friends, but then that afternoon you might breakdown in Deep Playa (way far out in the desert) because you’re completely fucking lost, a dust storm is tornado-ing through, and you’ve just finished the last of your water. But as you sit on your knees and sob into the desert, the dust will settle, and you’ll look up to see a pirate ship rolling to you across the desert, serving up ice cold margaritas with thumping electronic music. You will not know how to feel most of the time. But you learn to embrace the uncertainty. “The great mystery of modernity is that we think of certainty as an attainable state.” What’s so unique about BM is that it is entirely co-created by the participants. The art installations you see, someone brought with them just for you to enjoy. The cocktails you’re sipping, someone brought from home just to make your day a little brighter. The love potion around your neck, the postcard you sent to your friend across the Playa, the funky new Playa haircut you’re sporting, they were all ideas that one person decided to bring to life, just for your entertainment. And every single thing is free. There is no expectation of reciprocity, a gift is simply a gift, for the sake of giving, a gesture of sincerity and beautiful simplicity. But what got me hooked on BM more than anything was it’s honest raw imperfection. It’s not always fun, and it’s not always pleasant. There are times when the doof doof and the incessant neon lights just get too much, when you think you can’t stand to see another fluffy green bicycle ride by you. But to me this symbolized that nothing is perfect; life will rock and roll ya, but it’s still a pretty fantastic journey. On the Playa, as in life, people will come into your life just when you most need them. In my experience, I felt the Playa opened us all up to one another, making us miles more approachable and uninhibited in engaging with others. When boys were getting me down, a 60 year old man took me for a ride in his art car and gave me an hours’ worth of unsolicited but perfectly timed advice about how I shouldn’t settle for any young man who doesn’t treat me like a goddess. So priceless. Another time I fell into stride with a young man in the night, who, when I said my buzz was protecting the environment, talked my ear off about Derrick Jensen, one of my favourite radical green authors. One of the few things I jotted in my journal – “So many feelings swirling around. But mostly I am feeling strong, beautiful and confident.” The encounters you have with perfect strangers are so interesting, so mutually reinforcing, you can’t help but find personal growth out there. “I have just dropped into the very place I have been seeking, but in everything it exceeds all my dreams.” – Isabella Bird. For those who don’t know, the two big events of BM are the burning of the Man on the Saturday night, and the burning of the Temple on the Sunday. This year the Man stood on top of a giant wooden spaceship, which you could line up to enter, and there was more art inside (plus you got to slide down a great big slide to exit). The entire structure, around 30m tall, was made without a single nail or other non-wood element. Amazing. And boy could it burn!! Amid one of the punchiest fireworks shows I’ve ever seen, we watched the Man burn… gradually one arm fell… then the second… then a bang! and the entire structure was engulfed in flames. You could feel the heat wave from 500m away. And then there was the Temple. This year this was a giant pyramid, in the center of which was a large stone sculpture, and in every nook and cranny, candles, notes, letters, pieces of clothing… anything that somebody feels the need to say goodbye to. A series of soft gongs ring out every few minutes, but otherwise it is completely silent. An oasis in the sea of sound that is the rest of the Playa. People pray, meditate, write, think, sleep, on the floor throughout. The energy is so intense; even if you thought you came to BM with no emotional baggage, the Temple will get something out of ya. Then came Sunday. Everyone expected the Temple to burn around 9pm. At 8.15, as I’m cooking chicken, someone calls out “it’s on fire!” I was devastated. The four of us from the kitchen climbed the scaffolding of the Sound Camp to get a view. And I realised that I was in fact seeing something very, very special. Because of the confusion around timing, so many people had missed the start of the burn, and were now hustling to get there. So I was witness to a sea of thousands of people and bikes streaming in from all directions, descending upon the biggest and most beautiful fire. It was breath taking. One of the debates on the playa this year was about so-called “turn-key”, rich kid camps, where the guests pay a bunch of money to have all their needs met – RVs, shade, water, food, and often showers and bars. These present an interesting moral challenge, because on the one hand this blatantly contradicts the BM principle of self-reliance, yet on the other hand, to use this as a basis to exclude them would contradict another of the BM principles, radical inclusion. I had a unique firsthand perspective on this, as I had received a free ticket in exchange for working in a catering team for one of these camps. These lads had flown to Black Rock City airport (yes, the festival has it’s own airport!!) in their private jets, telling me, “it’s the only way really,” and they had camp staff making sure their bar was stocked and that everything was as comfortable as possible for them at all times. The whole atmosphere in their camp was just so un-Burning Man, it was refreshing every time I stepped out of it, even to go next door to the lemonade stand. Yet, I truly do hope that a little of BM might have rubbed off on these guys. As many others have pointed out, the world needs for more of those rich kids to experience BM. If even a little of the tolerance, open mindedness and spirit of generosity rubbed off on them, it has to be a good thing. And I think if anywhere is going to change them, this is the place; as much as you can try to insulate yourself with your luxuries, the reality is you’re still on the Playa. The moment you step out of that yurt and into the street, the madness of it all is gonna slap you in the face. And Burners don’t allow spectating – if you’re there, you’re getting roped into whatever flavour of crazy is going down. My first burn was one hell of a ride. I worked my ass off cooking three meals a day in the scorching desert sun amid dust storms and sometimes demanding rich kids. I partied like nobody’s business. I hung upside down from a giant couch with a guy who had helped build the Temple. I fell from a moving art car. I had a nineteen year old male stripper fall for me, telling me that he had never felt that way about a girl before. I drank 42 below vodka and ate a vegemite sandwich with a bunch of Aussies n Kiwis. I cuddled a guy called Happy in the midst of a white out, and covered him in dust so that he could see himself without tattoos for the first time in years. I cheered the sun down every night, and danced it back up again. I made friends with people with names like Mammoth, and was given the Playa name Serendipity Giggles. I wore pasties for the first time, and posed for topless photos with a girl from Sacramento in the morning sunshine. I giggled when someone asked me, “have you fallen in love yet today?”, and then wondered why I hadn’t. I drank whiskey with old men, and coffee with young men. I danced in a camp called Slut Garden. I listened to TED talks live at Playa School. I found myself a lift to Vancouver, and a place to live once I got there. I burned money, then watched some guys attempt to snort the ash. I handed out iceblocks during one of the hottest afternoons of the week. I got used to baby wipe showers, and then moaned with joy when I had my first real shower. I wrote in my journal “I am in love with Black Rock City.” Would I say BM changed my life? Probably not. But frankly my life didn’t need changing. It was an absolutely amazing experience, surrounded by the most wonderful of people, something which I will never forget. And I will definitely, definitely be back. Lightning in a Bottle was like nothing else I have ever experienced. Words cannot capture what I have witnessed, felt, been a part of for the last four days. It was so much more than just a party; it challenged me, enriched me, gave me a safe and enchanted space to grow as a person. The people and the culture really make LIB what it is. It’s a beautiful place where everyone is smiling and welcoming, and everyone you meet will have something nice to say and a hug for you. The atmosphere is one of gratitude and the joie de vivre, and it is a very spiritual space. One of my most special moments was sitting in a geodesic dome, set to vibrate to the earth’s frequency, with 6 others, in various yoga poses, chanting, or sitting cross legged on the floor, breathing in the energy as one man played Tibetan singing bowls. The conversations around the Temple of Consciousness were so enlightening and new for me, with different worldviews such as shamanism and Hare Krsna, all engaging and seeking spiritual growth together.
Meditation at the lake at sunset The people. Festivals are always a space filled with diversity and alternative lifestyles, but this really was a whole other level. The words that kept ringing in my mind were, ‘these people are SO GOOD at being themselves.’ Everyone was so free, open, confident and spontaneous. It was beautiful. I have never seen so many grown adults engaging in play. One of my favourite spaces to observe this was ‘Frontierville’, set up like an old frontier town with a saloon, which hosted the LIB Frontierville Mayoral election. My vote was for the flamboyant Italian Amori, with the campaign slogan ‘vote for love’, who ran the Frontierville Casino and Burlesque Parlour, and handed out condoms with his campaign slogan on. His opposition candidate was the patriotic Thornbush, with the slogan ‘let us do the thinking for you’. The mayoral debate featured hilarious banter about topics such as the right to bear arms (“I see many beautiful bodies around here – if the people want to bare their arms, let them bare arms!”), and the future of LIB, particularly the imposed ban on public nudity (“let the people derobe!”). All characters stayed wonderfully in character throughout the festival, and the Frontierville saloon was a festive playground in the evenings. Frontierville Another favourite of mine was the Psychedelic Friendship Bingo, which kicked off after midnight when the main stages close down, and was a wild anddebaucherous affair featuring some of the craziest costumes I have ever seen. The bingo panel featured musicians (including one of the members of Beats Antique) and organisers of LIB and other big festivals, and each round began and ended with everybody reading the friendship bingo mantra – “Friendship like the setting sun sheds kindly light on everyone.” The DJ was dressed as a lucha libre fighter, and Vegas style characters walked around with megaphones giving commentary on what was happening, creating a disorienting atmosphere of insanity. The games lasted far longer than any game of bingo I have ever witnessed, the prizes were ridiculous, and the rounds were frequently interrupted by extended dialogues between the main actors, improv singing performances, and spontaneous dancing outbursts where everyone was up out of their seats, dancing on the tables etc – and you should see the reaction when someone called bingo! I haven’t laughed so much in a long time. Psychedelic Friendship Bingo The music. There were more ‘zones’ than any other festival I have been to, so the musical diversity was phenomenal. What’s more, the dance floors were full of smiling faces reflecting the joy of movement. One of my musical highlights was a group called Tropo, who were playing electronic music with live violin and rapping – a combination I never thought I would see, but which absolutely blew me away!! At the end of their set everyone would not stop asking for more, so they played about three encores, where they were just jamming and freestyling lyrics about the festival, before they were finally forced off the stage. The Wookie stage – DJ in a treehouse! Not only did I expose my ears to new music, but I also learned to truly free my body on the dancefloor. In particular one night I was sitting toward the back of one of the music zones, talking with a couple of guys and watching this group of people dancing together. They were really fantastic dancers, so free and expressive, and interacting with each other in a beautiful way, much like contact dance, each reacting to the movements of the other. I said to the guy beside me, “I wish I could dance like that,” to which he replied “you can.” Maybe fifteen minutes later a song came on that I just could not stay sitting down for, so I commenced dancing by these people. Their energy was infectious, the music was fun, and I quickly lost myself in the experience. One of the girls who I had met earlier came and danced with me and told me, “Girl, I love the way you move!!”, and we both danced together, sharing in the elation and grinning like madwomen; at that moment I realised that I could and WAS dancing like that! It was such an empowering and wonderful feeling that I will never forget. Later in the night my fave place to be was Silent Frisco, a silent rave where everyone has their own set of headphones tuned into the one DJ. It was SO. MUCH. FUN. Every time I removed my headphones I could hear everyone giggling, humming and singing, and watching people rock out in their headphones was GREAT! This group holds Silent Frisco throughout the San Francisco Bay Area, in warehouses where they wouldn’t be allowed to hold a regular rave because of noise regulations – genius. The glowing lights of a few hundred pairs of headphones on dancing bodies My personal growth. I feel like this environment truly taught me how to be more open to my fellow human beings, giving me much more confidence to approach people, and to be friendly and open right from the outset. I went to some great workshops and had some amazing conversations with people, including a guy who almost died in Indonesia after 6 months travelling the world on a soul-searching journey, and has written an Amazon bestseller about his experiences. I met him at a talk by a woman from the Rainforest Action Network, and I learned that he had been one of the almost one hundred people arrested (including James Hansen, Bill McKibben and Naomi Klein ) in the 2011 protest in Washington D.C., against the planned Keystone XL Pipeline. For those of you didn’t see this, thousands showed up, with more arriving each day in reaction to the arrests. It was fantastic. I approached him to thank him for being there, and to tell him how inspiring that action had been for me, witnessing it from NZ. We talked about the value of such actions for movement building, and the challenges of remaining motivated when the mainstream media refuses to acknowledge / cover such events. He gave me a copy of his book and it is a really uplifting read (‘Into the Wind’, by Jake Ducey). Being around such people was such a truly magnificent experience that I really cannot put into words. Every person I met is actively creating the life that they want to live, and the world that they want to live in. I was remarking to one woman how so many people are doing amazing things, and a man nearby overheard and told me ‘you’re doing amazing things’, and came over and gave me a hug! That moment epitomized the atmosphere of gratitude and appreciation of one another. I can only hope that each person who was there can carry that home with them and influence the people around them with that wonderful way of relating to one another. A note pinned to one of the noticeboards I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to attend this wonderful event, and encourage anyone who plans to be around the West Coast next summer to check out LIB!! Unfortunately my backpack was taken on the last night, a rare occurrence of negative energy in an otherwise fantastic five days, taking from me my notebook containing contact info from the people I met there. So for me LIB is to remain a magical moment in time, spent in the company of wonderful souls who I am not likely to ever see again in my life, but with whom I experienced and shared so much. And actually that’s kind of lovely. The time had come… for Caitlin and I to rendezvous in a fabulous location as we all promised each other we would continue after our tramping rendezvous in the Copland Valley. So I travelled with Ben and his good friend Tobias to Priceless camp out, set in Belden town, among the stunning Sierra mountains, on the banks of the Feather River. So there I was, wandering around a campsite of 600-odd people (def 600 ODD people), and this tiny voice says “Tarsh?” followed by excessive giggles - Priceless indeed.
What followed were three fantastic days spent floating on the river listening to great music, meeting people, and having the very best catch up. We named ourselves Camp Comfy, and each had monikers to match. Ben was Captain Comfy, and let me tell you, that man is VERY serious about his fun. His costuming was also second to none (think red cowboy hat, red suspenders, and red tartan pants), and his tarot card reading surprisingly accurate ;) Caitlin was Comfy Calamity, and was Ben’s biggest challenger for best dressed, wearing fairy lights wrapped around her outfit, very cool. At one point I watched a man stood transfixed watching her hula hooping. I was the Comfy Crusader, fighting for the cause of comfort, and then there was Tobias, aka Comfy King, a warm caring gentle man who I am honoured to know. Together we talked so much rubbish, ate ridiculous amounts of almonds, and daaaanced the nights away. Much of the Priceless family was made up of the Bay Area Burning Man people, so the vibe was fun, offbeat and eccentric. Next to the dancefloor was a giant monkey bar set which by night became a seething mass of bodies deftly moving up, down and around the bars, erasing any doubt that humans are related to monkeys! It was quite the sight. I even overcame my fear of heights and scaled it alongside a crazy Australian. There were several art installations, my favourite of which was a bunch of motion sensitive LED flowers, which were amazing on their own, and mind blowing when looked at through 3D glasses! At another site, a woman was doing close up photos of people’s eyes, which were so incredibly beautiful. I never realised how many colours I have going on in my eye!! On the Saturday morning they put on a huge delicious brunch for everybody, which Cait and I were lucky enough to serve up in our role as volunteers. Suggested payment was a compliment or a hug, so we had the best job in the world!! Too many great moments to do justice to really, everyone was super welcoming and friendly, the music was great – I discovered a new genre which is really popular here, called Trap, essentially rap lyrics put to electronic music. We thrashed around to it until the wee hours of the morning. However I most enjoyed Oakland-based bilingual hip hop duo Los Rakas, dancing on the beach in my bikini, oooh yea!! Check them out on Bandcamp :) From Isla Vista it was time for my first Greyhound bus experience – all 8.5hours of it – up the coast to Oakland. During my travels I’ve been reading Jack Kerouac’s ‘On the Road’, a classic from the 1950′s beat generation, based on Kerouac’s own travels around the U.S. Kerouac often rode the Greyhound, and described his experiences, so it was funny to be in the same situation 60 years later. I can confirm that they are still stuffy, crowded and full of all walks of humanity, but I was lucky to meet some friendly fellow wanderers. I broke out into the hugest grin when a Brazilian guy I met told me he was on his way to Napa Valley to see “a reggae band… called Katchafire.” Represent!
Toward the end of my ride, two men boarded the bus together, and we quickly established that we were all couchsurfers, and they were looking for somewhere to stay that night in San Fran. They ended up being transferred to another bus, but I exchanged details with Olivier, a smiley frenchman who was keen to explore SF with me. Well, he turned out to be one of the very best people! When we met up in the city, he asked if we could head off in search of Jack Kerouac Alley (I hadn’t even mentioned Kerouac yet!!), so we set off and explored that area, spending large amounts of time in both the bookstore and the bar which Kerouac used to frequent. Olivier and I found we had a lot in common, and I fell for his wonderful energy and fantastic outlook on life. It was an absolutely perfect day. My host in Oakland was Caitlin’s good friend Ben, who is another spectacular human being. He gave me a sticker that said “I met a real clown today,” and when I wore it out, a real clown boarded my ferry!! Ben is also a CS host, and one of the best, with a pre-prepared Word doc with insider tips on where to go in the bay area, links to local websites of events etc. Olivier came out and stayed with us the second night, and we both fell in love with Oakland – the only place I’ve ever heard someone sincerely say “can I get a woop woop?” (in response to receiving a cigarette). We set out to find real coffee (American coffee is pretty terrible), and found the best place… We stopped to admire a street side art installation, and when we went to continue we realised we faced two crossroads: one like any other street crossing, the other painted in a rainbow. Naturally, we chose the rainbow, and on the other side lay a “Taqueria” (Mexican cafe), with espresso! Perfection. I keep being told, “Tarsh, NOBODY visits Oakland,” but we really had the best time, sipping coffee and meeting passersby. It could have almost passed for Modaks or Mou Very on a sunny Dunedin day… Ben, Olivier and I spent the funniest afternoon ‘thrift shopping’ (op shops!) These two guys are just the most hilarious. Macklemore has nothin’ on us when it comes to thrift shopping, I tell ya ;) Our enthusiasm was unbeatable, and when one of the stores announced 20% off dresses, well!! Too much excitement for one day really. It was hard to say goodbye to Olivier so soon, but – we will always have Oakland. Disembarking the island, I was informed by my beautiful friend Sam that as soon as I arrived in I.V. we were going camping by the beach with a crew of around 30 co-op kids. Yahhoo! Seven of us piled into the back of a huge classic ‘shagging wagon’ style van full of furry cushions and blankets, and off we went. Everyone was so friendly and interesting, and we had a wonderful evening making s’mores around a campfire, and playing with hoops and poi. We greeted the morning with a skinny dip before heading back to town.
My days in Isla Vista were like a dream. Set against a backdrop of palm trees and hibiscus flowers, we cycled everywhere, and spent our days surfing, stand up paddleboarding, chilling… We stayed at the faux-op, a 20 person co-operative house, home to some of the best people I have encountered. Really open, friendly and eccentric, they made me feel instantly at home, and I had the best time. We went pot luck hopping, played strip jenga, and Sam and I were bridesmaids at the most hilarious faux wedding I’ve ever seen. I sat in on a house meeting, and found the cooperative housing model really interesting. It seems to break down so many of the hang ups that most of us have about sharing space and resources, and create a more open and sharing environment. I’m really hooked on the idea. Three of us went to see Damian Marley perform at the Santa Barbara Bowl on Saturday night, and it was fantastic. We ended up seeing not only Damian, but Stephen and Julian Marley also, and Stephen’s son Joseph, aka Jo Mersa. Seeing all of them on stage doing Bob Marley versions, unbelievable. Plus we managed to sneak past security, into the floor section, gaining such a close up view of the action… It was such a good show, I loved every minute of it. We continued the party back at the faux-op, and at dawn I was lucky enough to witness the sun rising behind the Sierra ranges, turning the sky all kinds of pink, an unbelievable end to an unbelievable night. I can only hope that I will continue to meet such delightful human beings, for this crew really filled me with love for humanity. Eager to go walkabout, I caught the ferry over to Santa Cruz Island, the largest of the four islands which make up the Channel Islands National Park. On the way over a mother blue whale with calf surfaced right alongside the boat. The blue whale is the largest animal to have ever lived on this earth. Unreal. I was straight out onto the trails, along a rugged coastline of bluffs, with a backdrop not unlike Central Otago.
The sunsets were stunning, with seabirds soaring past me, riding the ocean winds. Seeing the flocks of brown pelican was particularly special, a truly remarkable bird which was almost lost forever. Amid rising concerns about pesticide use in the 1960s, scientists were able to pinpoint contamination from DDT in mainland sewers, flowing out to sea and entering the food chain, disrupting the reproductive cycle of the pelicans. The federal government listed the brown pelican as an endangered species in 1970, at which point only one chick survived on West Anacapa Island. DDT was banned in 1972, and by 2009 the brown pelican had recovered enough to be removed from the endangered species list. There are now some 6,000 nesting pairs raising chicks on West Anacapa each year. Cool story right? The inland trail over Montanon Ridge is stunning and exhausting, with almost no shelter and soaring temperatures. The plant diversity is fascinating, with a high proportion of endemic species, and some fantastic cacti. I befriended the kayak guide crew and they showed me how you can suck the berries of the ‘lemonade berry’ plant, and it tastes just like sherbet. They were a cool crew of guys with a raft of interesting projects on the go. I passed a pleasant evening with them, drinking beer and climbing to watch the sunset. After climbing to see the sunrise, the Smuggler’s Cove trail was a much cruisier option, which I was surprised to finish before lunch, even with a swim and some time spent reflecting at a secluded lookout point. While trails like this one are easy going, the heat really makes you appreciate this, and it was still gorgeous. The unique island fox (not much bigger than a cat) is everywhere, and so damn cute! I had one following me for awhile, pausing every time I turned around. Other local characters include pretty little lizards, and the somehow intimidating ravens. The island also has a rich history of habitation by the Chumash Indians, who crafted a trading currency using seashells collected here. A wonderful escape of delicious freedom,which left me feeling nature drunk and happy. My final day in Long Beach Tom and I went into L.A. to a protest outside the Brazilian embassy, organised in support of those protesting within Brazil. What began as protests against an increase in bus and subway fares has become a nationwide uprising about the worsening inequality, corruption and police violence, and in particular a constitutional amendment known as the PEC 37. It was great to be able to get out and support them, but I was surprised at the relatively small numbers given the size of L.A.!! Check outwww.brazilianprotests.tumblr.com to see more on these protests.
We also checked out the La Brea tar pit, a bizzare lake which is the result of an asphalt quarry in the nineteenth century. It has since filled with rain and groundwater, and is covered in a permanent oil slick due to asphalt leaking from fissures in the bottom of the lake. Natural gas also bubbles to the surface. Some 100 tons of epic fossil bones have been excavated from the area, as the asphalt seeps were something of a death trap for Ice Age mammals. For you geology geeks, this is known as the Rancho La Brea deposit, look it up! One ubiquitous sight in L.A. is Mexican food, and I just can’t get enough!! Sooo tasty. I have also tried Salvadorian food, and was equally delighted – plantains are freaking delicious. This city is a cultural melting pot, and you can travel the world through your belly. Suits me to a tee :) I spent an afternoon wandering around the waterfront area of Long Beach. I met a Hawaiian street vendor with the most beautiful tattoo of a hammerhead shark, much like Maori ta moko style. He offered to take me to the waterfront aquarium with his free pass if I came back tommorow, but it was my last day there. A couple of young guys were doing the most amazing tricks on bmx bikes, I sat and watched them for awhile. Lots of tourists around, and a woman in high heels walking around with a great big white snake around her neck. An eccentric city for sure. Venice / Santa Monica Beach I arrived in Venice on a Sunday evening, perfect timing because every Sunday there’s an epic drum circle on Venice beach. We caught the end of it, and just as we walked over the police began to break it up. As layer after layer of participants was removed, the inner circle of drummers determinedly drummed on, and there were people shouting, both angrily at the police, and happily yahoo-ing with the joy that only a drum circle can bring. As the last drum finished up, everyone was howling an cheering and it was so awesomely uplifting. The next day I spent more time exploring Venice and Santa Monica beaches with a friend Chris, who I met a week earlier. We rode the rollercoaster on the Santa Monica pier, had a basketball shootout and got the best burgers for lunch. Venice boulevard was so freaking entertaining, people selling everything you could think of, including bum signs (of which I saw some goodies! Such as “So sick of bitches bitching about bitches”), heaps of arts n crafts, medical marijuana licenses, and so on.. One guy was selling “shitty advice from a tipsy hippie” – “it’s not good, but it’s worth a dollar!” That night Chris took me into Hollywood to look around, and we had the most amazing sushi for dinner, before going salsa dancing in this awesome restaurant with great live music. It was madly packed, with people dancing all in between the tables and everywhere, such a buzz! Huntington Beach
Travis Rabenberg has the best travel stories I have ever heard. My host for two nights in HB, I never tired of hearing his yarns -– from kicking out with Arab Princes, to having his drink spiked and waking up in the middle of the desert, this guy has had a wild time! He also sells Italian bikes for a living, so I was lucky enough to be taken on a group ride on the back of his Ducati -– cruising north on the Pacific Coast Highway with the sun setting to our left. Riding home again under the nearly full moon was pretty epic too. Travis took me out for a morning surf before work. The water was gorgeous, I surfed in a bikini, and the waves were so mellow and rolling, I had so much fun. He loaned me a beach cruiser bike (these are so popular here!) and I spent the day exploring the HB/Newport area on the beach-side bike path. I rented a kayak and spent the afternoon exploring the Huntington Harbour, one of the biggest displays of wealth I have ever witnessed. Channel after channel of huge houses right on the water, with luxury yachts moored alongside. Huntington Harbor I stopped a couple of times to jump off bridges with the local kids, who have just started summer vacation. One young girl was really timid and shy, and her friends were all encouraging her to jump. I started talking to her, and eventually convinced her to jump with me. When she took her shorts off she had these heartbreaking scars all over her thighs from cutting herself. After jumping a few times she was smiling and giggling with her friends, and it was touching to have witnessed her gain that confidence. On the bike ride home I came across the Huntington farmers market, a lively affair with everything for sale from artisan bread to skateboards and everything in between! There was a DJ at one end, and a local songwriter performing at the other end. I stocked up on some fresh goodies, and tried my first tamale. Newport Beach In Newport Beach I stayed with Eric, a good friend of Tom’s, and we went to a ‘subsuelo’ party in East L.A. There were a number of CS hosts there with their surfers. The music was great, and everyone was super friendly. A flamenco dancer performed on the bar-top, and the main band Las Cafeteras, rad music with a political message. A really great night!! The next day I went bikini shopping at the outdoor mall in Newport, and then Eric took me out to Crystal Cove state park, which has the most gorgeous beach! You need a pass to enter the park, so the beach was less crowded, and the road was set back from the coast, so it felt more remote than any other beaches I’ve been to here. It was lovely! Eric was awesome to get to know as well, and has just started growing some of his own fruit and veg. We had great excited chats about permaculture, food forests and aquaponics systems, despite the fact that his backyard is smaller than my parents bathroom… You gotta dream big right? ;) San Clemente Upon meeting my host in San Clemente, we immediately went down to run on the beach, which was only a 5min walk away. The first time I have ever run in my bikini, and seriously addictive! When we were done we swam into the sunset, it truly felt like the sun was sinking into the ocean, and we were not observers but active participants. It was utter magic, woohoo-ing and grinning my ass off. My host Brad is a surf life guard, a laid back down-to-earth guy who’s life is centered around his love for the ocean. He lives in south San Clemente which really is gorgeous. There are less crowds down here, and these picturesque sandstone bluffs line the coast. I ran on the beach every day that I was here, and swam and swam and swam. The world renowned surf break Trestles was close by, and hosting a youth surf comp while I was there. So many of the kids are on the brink of going pro, and man could they surf! I happily passed an afternoon watching the action. Several times I saw bottlenose dolphins swimming along the coast. The first time I was in the water and they were frolicking just out from me, my heart skipped a beat when I saw them! I found that when I lay back in the water I could hear them communicating, it was pretty special. On the second day I swam out to Brad’s lifeguard boat and he took me out for a couple of hours. We went and free dived on this offshore reef known as “the slab.” There were tonnes of garibaldi swimming around, which are the most amazing bright orange fish, you can see them from the boat because they are so bright! The babies are even cooler, speckled with this iridescent blue. We also swam around the biggest starfish I’ve ever seen, and even a leopard shark! Badass. My evenings were just as entertaining. One night we went to see an old-school rock band called Marshall Tucker band. With Brad’s parents, who were so lovely. Another night was a lifeguard party, where I tried chard (silverbeet) from someone’s home aquaponics system, and stood around a fire pit drinking a tasty local I.P.A. The guys were so laid back and friendly. I was telling one guy about the Maori creation stories, and about Maui fishing up the North Island. He was lamenting America’s lack of such a culture of legends and stories. The U.S. really does represent to me the complete disconnection of a people with their landbase, which the lack of these stories reflects. It was touching to hear a young person yearning for this, and gave me hope for a future where we are more in touch with this beautiful planet we live upon / within. It was hard to tear myself outta San Clemente, reminded me of Raglan in a way, had that special something that draws me to stay… Alas. The road beckons me on! |
I am a conservation field worker in New Zealand. I love mountains, sunrises, river swims, barefeet, cold beer, campfires, live music and whiskey. Archives
December 2014
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