Onward
Thursday, May 31st, 2007We’ve decided to postpone the reality of “earning an income” and “settling down” as long as we can and thus are taking to the road once more; 
only this time, we are traveling with suitcases, a car and a treat-riddled dog. Sam is disappointed at the prospect of leaving ‘Treatland’ – a.k.a. Mom & Dad’s house – but he is excited about seeing California because he’s a big fan of The O.C.
What better way to spend a summer than shopping at farmer’s markets, cooking our heads off, visiting Alcatraz, Golden Gate Park and Crate & Barrel, and touring Napa? Our travel extension will only allow a few more months of life at leisure but it will be a lovely, slow summer. We’ll actually be in Berkeley, across the bay from SF, in a sublet apartment 1.3 kilometers from the Starbucks.
Oh, the markets! When we were last in foodie heaven in 2005, we went to the Ferry Building Market on the advice of a magazine article. We were not disappointed and, indeed, probably could’ve spent the entire day there. I regret not having patronized the oyster bar (!!) but you can be sure I won’t miss it a second time. Can’t wait to get there and begin this food-centric episode of our travel.
An Observation: This whole travel thing really does get under one’s skin. If we weren’t carrying on to visit the homeland of security, I’d be getting pretty antsy.
A Creepy Discovery: go to Google.com, type in an address in San Francisco (eg. Ferry Building Marketplace) and hit enter. When the map appears, click on the ‘Street View’ button. They actually have street-level, 360º photos of some streets. At times, one can zoom in so far as to see furniture inside buildings.
Nigella Lawson. This TV food woman, rarely seen without a coy look on her face and a half-moon chopper in her hand (how does she use that unweildy thing?) has become a strange fixation for me. Despite her shameless use of creme fraiche and cheese, her cooking has a sneaky kind of appeal that hasn’t yet failed to inspire. It irks me that I like her; she is uncomfortably sweet and coquettish, like the cliche that is chocolate souffle. Last night I watched her make spaghetti carbonera, without apologizing for its richness and the addition of a half-pound of bacon, and then found myself making the same thing for dinner. I don’t even like spaghetti carbonera! How does she do that?
Grand Marnier. I’m not really a fan of orange-flavoured anything but it seems that Grand Marnier slipped through my net. Actually, I seem to recall it being the culprit behind one very un-memorable Christmas…. Upon our return to Canada, I found a bottle amongst our few remaining possessions and decided to give it a try when we ran out of port. It turns out that I sort of like GM and now, I can’t resist a wee, luxurious glass as a nightcap. When every day is a Saturday, this habit is of little consequence.
While it’s true that, during the long journey around the world, I missed some cushy things from North America (good showers, good coffee, English, an easy existence) I would be remiss not to mention the things I missed about Canada. I also think it’s fair to say that I’m not sure I would’ve ever really noticed these elements of Canadiana had I not been apart from them. (Hardly a new observation, I know; things are never clearer than when seen from afar.)
Oh, the guidebooks. All packed up now, dark inside a box and no longer useful.
As the grand finale of our year-long journey, we could hardly have done better than a visit to Machu Picchu. What can I possibly say about this spectacular place without repeating what thousands of other visitors have already said? Beautiful, fascinating, an architectural wonder, blah, blah, blah. I’m not irreverant, but I can’t offer anything original.
However, I thought the resident llamas were a nice touch. Apparently, they were brought to site years ago by a production company that was filming an historical documentary and, when filming was over, they just left them there. They’ve been hanging around mowing the lawns ever since. Just in case one tires of photographically documenting every carved stone in the city, one can focus on these living local icons.
For our group of 11 clients, there were 2 guides, 1 cook and 16 porters. They carried everything we would need for our trip, less the sleeping bag and sleeping mats that we carried ourselves. I was struggling with a little over 7kgs. in my pack so I find it remarkable that the porters carrying the propane tank, or the folding tables, or the cook stove were breezing past me at a steady pace. That work is some Jesus hard. (Marc is hidden somewhere in this picture of our porters in their uniforms during a rarely seen break.)
At any rate, we were regularly rewarded during our trek with some excellent opportunities to explore various Inca ruins. I think my favourite is Winay Wayna, a small city perched on the very edge of a mountain-top near Machu Picchu. The theory is that it was used mainly an agricultural establishment which provided much of the food needed at MP. The terraces, the water management system, and the remaining buildings are fantastic feats of architecture- it was just fascinating to me to see how they had built a city and a farm on the side of steep, unforgiving mountain.
The trail to Machu Picchu was built roughly 500 years ago, before the arrival of the Conquistadores. Our guide told us that the first 2 days of trekking is on trail that is only about 30% original but that on the third and fourth days, the trail is 80-90% original. Considering that the road is paved with stone and snakes through cloud jungle, over extremely high mountain passes, and skirts whole valleys, it is beyond remarkable that it has remained intact, let alone in good enough shape for people to continue to traverse it.
The highest point we crossed, Dead Woman’s Pass (doesn’t take much imagination to wonder why it has this name) was 4215m. (13829ft.), not a height that I will take lightly anymore. The altitude took its toll on both of us, sapping our strength and only allowing 20 steps between rest stops. Luckily, we had acclimatized for a couple of weeks before setting off but some of our group had a rough time with altitude sickness, unfortunately. Fortunately, we discovered coca leaves. Yes, they are of the plant of ill repute but I found that tucking a wad in the side of my mouth and chewing on these bitter leaves actually made quite a difference in my performance; I felt less headache-y and a little more energetic. It was much nicer, however, to chew on a coca candy and/or take a little coca mate (tea) and significantly less gross than the wad of leaves.
On the second day of our Inca Trek one of our fellow trekkers overheard Janet and I talking about my birthday. He brought it up at lunch and by dinner the tour company had arranged a little celebration.