This post has no pictures

First, a disclaimer: This post will have NO pictures. The subject is a digestive disturbance, so if you don´t want to hear about poo, don´t read this. There is also some minor profanity, as it relates to the digestive process. If you know me well, you know that I believe the bathroom has a door for a reason, and this is one of my least favorite subjects. Therefore...

A dedication: To Hobbit, my dearest friend, who dug a hole in a rainstorm for me.
Consider this your Christmas present. I know how much you LOVE to tell this story, and hear it told, so this is liscence to do so freely. You have been begging me to write a blog on this subject for weeks, so here it is.

The tale begins in Samaipata, Bolivia. We set out on a 3 day trek that was to take us through cloud forests, canyons and river crossings. The first day started well; we spent the day making our way through a valley and up a mountain covered in a forest of prehistoric ferns, as tall as tall pines, but with no wood or roots. It was a long day, trekking through ankle deep mud and climing over 1000 meters in elevation. We made camp in a refugio--a small house, over 100 years old, which had recently been graced with a new roof, but was mostly just a clay shelter on the side of a mountain. The local who was restoring the place and clearing out an area for a garden was done for the day, so he showed us where to get water, and the shovel (which translated means toilet), then he headed back down the mountain to his family.

So Hobbit grabbed a tree branch and started sweeping out the house while I cooked dinner. I had a headache, and my muscles were sore, but I didn´t think too much of it until later. After dinner it got dark quickly, and we sat and watched the stars and fireflies come out, and then a lightning storm coming over the mountain. We said goodnight to the guide (who was sleeping in another shelter) and Hobbit, our friend Laura and I rolled out our sleeping bags and went to bed.

A couple hours later, I woke up suddenly with a feeling of imminent disaster in the pit of my stomach. I frantically unzipped my sleeping bag, searched for my shoes in the dark, grabbed the toilet paper and ran outside. Well, almost. The hundred year old house has door frames that are about as tall as the middle of my forehead, so I smacked myself pretty hard, stumbled a bit, then stepped out into a full-on thunderstorm. The temperature had dropped from the pleasant afternoon warmth, and the light of the moon was gone behind the clouds, so I waited, shivering and clenching my butt cheeks until I could see the shovel by the light of a lightening strike. I headed into the bushes, and did what had to be done. I have never had such horrible diarhea. I burried my poo and toilet paper and stumbled back into the house (hitting my head on the way in).

"Hobbit! Are you awake?" I asked.
"No. What the hell are you doing?"
"I think I´m sick," I said. "Do you have some toilet paper, or water?"
"No. You´ll be fine. Go to bed." He mumbled and rolled over.

What happened over the next 8 hours is pretty hazy for me, but this is what I´ve piece together. About every 20-30 minutes or so, I raced against a disaster in my pants, out into a thunderstorm of epic proportions, to dig a hole in the dark, fill it back up again, and then crawl back into my sleeping bag. If this doesn´t sound terrible already, consider that everything that could possibly make the situation more miserable, did.

My muscles started to ache and cramp, and sleeping in a bag on a clay floor offered little relief. I started to burn up with a fever. The chills and sweats were helped along by the exposure to the cold, driving rain every time I exited the shelter, at which point I routinely slammed my aching head against the doorframe in my hurry to exit. I was desperately thirsty, and despite all the rain, had no drinking water left. At some point, Hobbit was woken up by my mumbling incoherently, and discovered my fever and distress. He headed out into the storm and got some fresh water (I don´t know from where) and came back to find me in a terrible state.

"My head hurts, my bones hurt! I can´t stop shitting!"
"Hey, you´re ok, I got you some water..." Hobbit tried to console me.
"No, this is bad." I started crying. "And now my socks are wet, and I can´t dig a hole because it´s too muddy! And it´s so cold!"
"You´re fine, you´re ok. Just lay down for a minute and I´ll help you."

And then, my dear friend Hobbit put his own sleeping bag over me, in my sleeping bag, grabbed the shovel and a headlamp, and headed into the storm. He dug me a hole deep enough to make it until morning, got me a new roll of toilet paper from his pack, and started feeding me ibuprofin. He slept under a towel since he gave me his sleeping bag. "We have a car coming in the morning," he said. "They were going to transport us to the next base camp, but we´ll take you back to town and to the doctor. You can make it til morning. You´ll be ok."

The hours until morning were almost unbearable. It was a perfectly designed torture. I shivered and sweated, shitted and ached. I lay waiting for minutes at a time, clenching my butt, waiting for the rain to let up, just a little. When morning came, I was full of hope, but my digestive tract was as empty as it´s ever been.

Hobbit woke up and headed over to talk to the guide about getting out. While he was out, the only thing left, the one thing that could make this all worse... it happened. Hobbit walked back through the door with his characteristic sunny smile and saw me standing in the doorway to the little side room.

"Feeling better?" he asked brightly.
"No!" I was horrified. "I am not better! Shit in my pants is NOT better, Hobbit! No!"
"No. No. You shit your pants. No."
"Yes," I wailed. "This is not good!"
Our friend Laura woke up. "Wait what´s happening?" She asked sleepily.

Hobbit headed for my pack, got me clean clothes and some cleaning supplies. Then he delivered the bad news.

"Listen, Sarah. Just don´t freak out now."
"Hobbit," I responded, "I cannot possibly BE more freaked out than I already am."
"The road is washed out."
"What does that mean?"
"It means... The driver that was coming to get us couldn´t make it up the mountain. No one can." I stared at him. "We have to hike out of here."
I just stared. He continued.
"The guide says it´s about a 2 hour hike, normally. We have to go over the mountain, but after the first part it´s on a gravel road and the end is flat."
"There´s no one coming to get us?"
"No, Sarah. They can´t. The only way out is to hike. We could wait here, maybe tomorrow they could get up, but even then, it´s not sure. We´ll empty your pack and carry your load. We are walking out of here."

Thus began a miserably long trek, over a mountain, in drizzling rain, with frequent poo-breaks, a fever and shaking, aching limbs. Hobbit cheered me on the whole way, secretly gleeful about the story unfolding before him. An adventure in the backcountry AND diarhea? What could be better! As he has often explained, diarhea is the funniest sickness.

I eventually made it to a waiting car, which deposited me at a hospital, where a doctor sent me home to the hostel to sleep for the next three days with instructions to drink and rest and eat simple foods. In the normal course of things, this would have been a mean sickness, but the circumstances were just so perfectly awful that I can´t help but laugh. Why can´t I get sick near civilization? But then, not all was terrible. I couldn´t have asked for a better friend for the situation; he did everything but carry me out of there.

The Salt Flats

After a rediculously disorganized 5 hour long border crossing into Bolivia, Hobbit and I caught a bus to a little town called Tupiza.


We were on our way to the Salar de Uyuni, the worldest largest salt flats.


This post is best experienced in pictures, I think, so I´ll keep the descriptions to a minimum.


Together with Thomas, the Swiss guy from New Years and Laura, a girl we met on the bus who is from Holland and booked a Jeep and headed out on a 4 day tour of the remote and beautiful southern region of Bolivia.


The first day was all about llamas and colorful landscapes.


The mountains in this area are are extremely rich in minerals, which is apparent in the beautifully varied colors on the mountainsides.


We stayed that night in a little mountain pueblo (village) with maybe 25-30 inhabitants.


The next morning was a 4 am wake up call to start the journey up.


This second day was the beginning of the serious elevation, and for me, elevation sickness.


A little nausea, shortness of breath and a headache couldn´t keep me out of the natural hot springs though!


Even those that weren´t sick were huffing and puffing on the 10 meter walk to and from the jeep--4500 meters is very high.


Day 3 was the day of the flamingo!


We saw 3 varieties at various lakes, which were themselves colored spectacularly by minerals.


We stopped to observe a newly developed geyser that had just started erupting 5 days earlier.


That night we stayed in one of the famous salt hotels.


These buildings are constructed from--you guessed it--salt.


Not just the walls though, furniture was constructed from salt blocks, benches, tables, chairs, we even slept on beds made of salt brick (with a mattress).


And the final day was the crowning moment.


We drove directly accross the salt flats which are really a prehistoric salt lake that is constantly still evaporating.


We stopped at a cactus "island" for breakfest, a bit of somewhat fertile land which used to be an actual island.


It is covered in ancient cacti, some as old as a thousand years.


While there we were graced wth the presence of an ostrich begging for a little of our breakfest.


Then we headed out onto the great expanse of chrystalline whiteness.


We stopped and took some photos, and headed back to town.


A really beautiful 4 days of early mornings, spectacular sunrises and 5000 meters of altitude.

Vacation from vacation - Hobbit

It´s been a long busy time traveling and it was time for a vacation from our trip...Christmas and New Year´s where the perfect opportunity for this.

What to do for Christmas was the big question. Well we came up with the perfect plan: go to Mendoza, Argentina (the wine capital of Argentina), find a hostel with a pool and spend it with friends we have met along the way.

This Christmas became a Christmas of legend because we were not the only people that came up with this plan. When we arrived at Break Point, we found that there were several other groups of travelers with the same mindset - eat loads of meat (except Sarah of course), drink and relax by the pool. After weeks of hard traveling, this was a well deserved break for all.

We arrived on the 23rd, settled in and made plans for meals and activities. As Paul and I were figuring things out over a beer, this journalist came up to us and asked us if we´d answer a few questions. The interview was basically about traveling away from home over the holidays and what we planned on doing. We thought nothing of it until the next day. As we where walking around town, we came across a news stand, and there we where front page of the local paper. Yeah, I know just wasted my 15 minutes in Argentina, hell at least I got my 15 minutes!!

On the 24th, Paul, Rach and I decided it would be smart to pay some Argentinian guy $50 to run off a mountain and fly. Well, this might be one of the stupidest, yet coolest things I´ve ever done! Paragliding for those who have a fear of heights is not as glamorous as it sounds when the reservations are made. At first the fear of running off a mountain was enough for me to change into adult diapers, but then to watch these gliders go up and up and then up again I turned a lighter shade of white than Sarah! It was finally my turn. Here I was strapped to some guy who I just met and he is telling me in which direction to run off this perfectly solid mountain. It was time and I ran and all of a sudden I was flying!! It was an incredible feeling, until I looked down and we were going higher!! We flew for about 30 minutes and finally we were on the ground and I was happy, ready for a cold one!!

Christmas Eve night became a festival atmosphere at the hostel. Everyone ate and some groups exchanged presents. Once all the formalities of Christmas Eve were completed, a circle of friends formed around some music. The music was lead by an Irishman of course. Harry played and sang for seven hours, while others sang along, danced and holla hooped. This became the Christmas family, it included English folk, Australians, Americans, Swiss, Germans, Qiwis and Swedes. The festivities lasted through Christmas Day. It was a joyful occasion and everyone was thankful to find each other!!



On boxing day it was time to explore wine country, by bike. Really, wine and bikes, a perfect combination!! A group of 11 went to find the famous Mr. Hugo. He welcomed us with free wine and delicious empanadas. Once we where set on wine and food, it was time to make the 15 km ride to the first vineyard, uphill by the way. Some made it, some missed the big sign in English that said OPEN (Sarah)!! Once everyone was gathered together the tour began with a tasting, followed by the purchase of several bottles that were to be drank prior to the actual tour. This was followed by a bike trip to the next vineyard and more tasting. The bike became much easier to handle after this and it was time to head back to Mr. Hugo to return the bike. We where once again greeted with open arms and free wine. This was a perfect end to a wonderful holiday spent with amazing people from all over the world!! Well actually, I did some high quality rafting the next day with Sarah and Paul. That might have been the best way to end the holiday!!

So the next question, New Year´s? Most people went their own way as we all have our own goals while traveling, but some of us decided to met in Salta, Argentina. Thomas, Micheal, Rach, Cat and Beth all decided to met at the hostel Terra Occulta and celebrate 2010. Once again we found a wonderful group of travelers all in the same mindset.

Once we arrived, Sarah and I first, we rested and explored the beautiful city of Salta. This was the first city we have been to that had an actual Latin American feel and it was wonderful. One by one the New year´s family arrived and the festivities began. The hostel put on a huge spread for 30+ people, vegetarians and carnivores. The lay out of this hostel includes a roof top bar, this is where we ate. It was perfect because once we where done, the fire works began and we could see them all. It was time to dance and celebrate in typical Argentian fashion - past the break of day.

The next day, plans where made for our escape from Argentina and now I sit in Bolivia, halfway through our journey. I want to share a few things that I miss from home:

-Every aspect of the whole bathroom experience!! For example, the ability to throw toilet paper in the toilet. In South America, after use the TP goes in the bin sitting next to the toilet. One does get used to it after a while, but it is still not acceptable! Also, the ability to wash one´s hands with soap after use of the toilet has been lost on most of the South American culture. You either get soap or a towel to dry or nothing at all.

-Not the snow!!

-Privacy. The most privacy I get is in the tent. Otherwise it has been two months of dorm rooms. This is not all bad because of the social aspect of things, but one does enjoy a bit of privacy. When I get home, I´m locking myself in my room for three weeks!!

-PIZZA!! They have no idea how to make pizza down here - they put cherries on it!! And while I´m at it, I´m dieing for a good burger.

-NOT WORK!!

-SIERRA NEVADA!! So the beer here is, well beer. I´m ready for a hoppy cold one!!

-Finally the thing I miss most - my bed!! I have been sleeping in some of the worst beds on the planet. The worst type of bed, which I see frequently, is the one that has a big ¨V¨in the middle of it. I would also die for one night with my pillow!! The general rule on hostel pillows is a thin, flat hard thing.

So there you go, we are half way through our journey. We haven´t killed each other and we are still best friends! The show must go on, Bolivia, Peru and finally Brazil. The next two months are jammed pack with few breaks. The treks get harder, but the sights get more and more incredible!! Take care!!