So, we totally and utterly, completely lucked out in Bogota. Despite yet another flight being cancelled (thanks Viva Colombia) and an unscheduled night (well, five hours) in a hotel in Lima, we finally arrived in Bogota. Our dear Colombian friends Paola and Ignacio from Hong Kong put us in touch with their friend Suki who was away for the long weekend and had an apartment we could stay in. We opened the door to the apartment of dreams. On the 19th floor in Los Rosales, the well to do area of Bogota, light filling, no, streaming through the windows, the kitchen full of only the best appliances, and we had an oven, our very own oven. And Suki had informed us we could eat anything left in the fridge and to just make ourselves at home. That we did! We didn't want to leave. And well, we basically didn’t! After a lazy morning, home made smoothies and a full english courtesy of Carulla (aka supermarket of dreams) we did tear ourselves from our beautiful nest and headed downtown. Luckily Uber works well here which is good because there basically aren't any decent public transport options, just packed commuter buses which we really weren't in the mood for. As we left the well-coiffed streets of Las Rosales, we witnessed the grittier side of Bogota. By the time we reached downtown, we cautiously made our way to the Botero Museum. Now 85 years old, Fernando Botero is undoubtedly one of Colombia’s most famous artists. His signature style depicting people and figures in large exaggerated form is unmistakable, he is the master of curves and all things round. The collection is made up of not only many of his own canvases and works on paper but a huge percentage of his private collection which he donated many years ago. I was a fan of his work before we visited but I left a true convert. The area around the museum is full of other interesting museums, The Museo de Arte del Banco de la Republica and the Casa de Moneda. The Museo del Oro is also worth a visit, we kind of whipped round it though because, well, once you've seen ten little gold figures, they all sort of merge together. Plaza de Bolivar is the equivalent to a main square with some impressive churches surrounding it but it is also dodge central, think drunken homeless men asking you for money at 11am. We went, we looked, got spotted a mile off and tried our best to get out of there with all our belongings! There are so many wonderful restaurants in Bogota, it was impossible to get round them all so, here is a list of those we tried and others we didn't make but were recommended to us by people in the know (thanks Pao and Nacho!): Prudencia Tabula Salvo Patria Mesa Franca Mini Mal El Chato Gordo Bar Rin Rin (cool bar) Abasto (good for brunch) Apache (good bar) Azahar Cafe And some good galleries too, most of which we managed to visit. The last three were sadly closed when we visited, perhaps when open the area is a little more inviting but we were quite frankly terrified whilst walking around this area, once we found they were closed, we did our best to find a taxi pronto! Alonso Garces Gallery Valenzuela Klenner Gallery NC-Arte Espacio El Dorado Sketch Flora ars+natura Instituto de Vision We had a fun morning wandering around Paloquemao Market, a must see for any foodies out there. More adventurous ones than us may also have been up for trying some of the local dishes being served at some of the stalls. We were due to get on a ten hour bus the next morning so thought it was best to skip it!
Lima is a big and generic South American city, a bit dirty, a bit shady in parts, lots of men inexplicably lurking around on the streets during the day. However the food in Lima is really good. Everything else about Lima is not so good, and the city is notorious for being particularly dangerous for tourists. But as usual if you stick to the right areas, such as Miraflores where we stayed, and don’t hang around on the street at night, it’s absolutely fine. Lima is a seaside city so a trip to the raised coastal side of town is a must, however the beach that runs along the main highway is pretty rough, although it seems to be popular with surfers. And the city was far too polluted when we there anyway to consider sitting on a beach. The Barranco neighbourhood is really worth a visit, especially for the Mario Testino museum. And you must eat Ceviche. We chose one of the most well known, La Mar Cebicheria, which was amazing, but ceviche is served absolutely everywhere. Peruvian sandwiches (which are definitely not for vegetarians) are also a must eat. Most importantly we made it to Central! Currently number five on the World’s Best Restaurant list, and Latin America's number one. Peruvian Air may have tried to scupper our plans by kindly cancelling our flight, but the good people at Central came through and secured us a new booking. Hurrah!
Chef Vergilio Martinez, still in his 30s, has been integral to Lima's food transformation over recent years. Working with his sister’s culinary research, he creates Mater menus - explorations of Peru's biodiversity, taking diners on a journey through different altitudes from -20 metres below sea level to 4,100 metres above it. Ingredients come from the Andes, the Amazon, and the sea. We ate things I couldn't even pronounce and are unlikely to ever come across again. Sea snails, sargassum and limpets from -10m, olluco and chincho stems from 3500m, air potato and cassava from the jungle, grown at 2800m, to mention just a few of our eleven courses. It was weird and wonderful, and some of the most beautifully plated food we have ever eaten. Due to Peruvian Air’s screw up ('Oh, I’m sorry, but your flight has been cancelled, didn't you get our email?' No. No we certainly did not), we missed our original table booking and had to sit at the bar. Of course we were very grateful they could accommodate us at all when they normally have a three month waiting list. And of course the food you eat is exactly the same, but service is certainly not. We weren't blown away, which was a bit of a shame, especially considering we were spending at least three days budget on the meal! We arrived late into Ollantaytambo, exhausted, damp and with achy legs. We were past the point of going out to eat, so ate some emergency stash biscuits and in true anniversary celebratory style, hit the hay. In an attempt to make use of the exorbitant Boleto Turistico, we got up relatively early to visit the Ollantaytambo ruins. Thought by many to be another fortress located just outside the town, it is in actual fact a religious site with temples and funerary sites. The size of some of the stones that must have been hauled from the quarry five miles away was astonishing and each had been lovingly polished to remove the roughness. Such civilised folk. An old French couple who were staying in our hostel were considering hiring a driver to take them round some of the Sacred Valley sites that day so we joined forces to reduce costs. It is definitely the best way as some of the roads are not bus or pedestrian friendly! They were fine (the Frenchies) apart from the dry political chat and the incessant chain-smoking. Our first stop was the heavily restored Moray ruins. Although unsure of the purpose for these circular depressions, it is presumed it is an agricultural experimentation site. There is a difference of 15'C between the top and the bottom terrace which gave them the opportunity to see which crops grew best at which level. Ingenious and rather fascinating. Next up were the Salinas de Maras, annoyingly not on our Turistico ticket so we had to pay extra, but it was worth it. Never seen so many shades of white and for an arty type like me, very aesthetically pleasing! The Incas were the first to start harvesting these salt ponds centuries ago. Where the salty water that pours out of the mountain comes from is still a mystery! Our final stop was Chinchero, known to the Incas as the birthplace of the rainbow (seriously?) and is now a touristy village full of tat, a beautiful colonial church built on Incan foundations, and some more ruins. It is also the home of weaving so has a lovely selection of fabrics. If I didn't have to carry everything I buy around the world with me, I’d have gone crazy here. This site is thought to be our friendly Incan Mr. Tupac’s country resort, the land remains rich and fertile and locals still grow potatoes, quinoa and fava beans here. And there is a grand old stone throne decorated with carving which I didn't see (but Rob did), because my legs are aching so much from yesterday's climb I can barely get my arse on to the toilet seat without assistance and a lot of groaning.
A rather fancy Oltursa night bus brought us to Cusco. We left Arequipa rather reluctantly, feeling like another evening there wouldn't have been so bad. We arrived into Cusco, the historic capital of the Inca empire in the early hours, 6am to be precise. It wasn't much fun for Rob, as I admit, I am a terrible morning person. Thankfully we were able to check in to our hotel (Tecte Guest House) early so we fell in to bed and caught another four hours sleep! We woke feeling jaded but dragged ourselves out for brunch and stationed ourselves at a cafe for hours, determined to make some firm plans. As usual, we had left it far too late and NEEDED to book our Machu Picchu tickets. It is not an easy process and ridiculously expensive, not to mention frustrating. So here is a quick guide for anyone planning a trip there: Booking tickets: There are several types of tickets; 1) entry only to the site itself 2) entry to the site plus a timed slot to go up Machu Picchu Mountain 3) entry plus a timed slot to go up Huayna Picchu. The guidebooks will say that they sell out months in advance but this just isn't true. They do limit the number of people that enter both the site and the two mountain climbs, and to be fair the Huayna mountain had sold out by the time we booked but there were more than enough places left for entry. You can book online but the system is unreliable and so slow to load so it is better to wait until you arrive in Cusco and book it at The Ministry of Culture (I know, it sounds like something from Harry Potter). We took a fair while deciding on our itinerary, discussing ways to save a few pounds here and there. There are in theory a couple of ways to get to Aguas Calientes which is the closest town to Machu Picchu if you're not getting there doing the Inca Trail. You can take the train from Cusco all the way there, take the bus to Ollantaytambo and then get the train, or walk for ten hours along the railway track. The latter, although the cheapest way, sounded ridiculously dangerous (remember my comment on the people who got bitten by the dog in Peru? Well, it was on this walk. Pardon my language, but no fucking way we were doing that). The train journey was apparently very beautiful so we just swallowed the costs and booked a direct train from Cusco (by buying the ticket direct from the train company rather than a local agent we also got a discount). Our plan was to spend one night in Aguas Calientes and one night in Ollantaytambo so we could spend a day exploring the Sacred Valley after Machu Picchu. With everything booked, we were finally on top of things organisation-wise, so we left to explore the cool part of Cusco, San Blas, which is where we should have been staying, had we done some research. I was on an alpaca mission, I needed a jumper and some souvenirs for the fam. After the tenth ‘Artesanal’ store and just as Rob was about to lose his shit, I found it, the perfect alpaca jumper. It wasn't baby alpaca, but I can cope with that. Then Rob’s patience was finally rewarded with a tasty dinner at Pachapapa. Saqsayhuaman (pronounced Sexywoman), not surprisingly, is at the top of a ridiculous hill. At an altitude of 3,701m. Thanks Incas. You'd think we’d be used to the altitude by now but it's still a struggle. A fortress built in around 900 CE by a chap called Tupac (yes, thats true!) with stones so large that it seems impossible that human hands could have set them in place, and so perfectly sculpted that not even a pin could could be inserted between the joints. And these walls have survived decades of devastating earthquakes. But then the bloody Spaniards arrived and demolished it, ruining it for us all. It is an impressive sight and one not to be missed. And the views over Cusco are also pretty impressive. On a side note, in typical Peruvian, ‘fuck over the tourists’ style, you are not able to buy a single ticket to any of the local sights, but instead are forced to buy a Boleto Turistico (for around £45 EACH!!!) which is collective entry to around twelve sights in and around Cusco and the Sacred Valley. Aguas Calientes is a total shithole. And they know it, and simply don't care because it is at the foot of one of South America’s biggest tourist attractions and the people will come, no matter how shit and expensive the accommodation is. The train ride was nice and we were lucky enough to have good weather. The good weather did not last however and we spent the day running from cafe to cafe as we outstayed our welcome each time, because we wanted to spend as little time as possible in our dingy and overpriced hostel. 5am - yes, thats what time we got up to get the bus to Machu Picchu. The bus that takes twenty minutes to get up the hill and costs a small fortune. But it was our eleven year anniversary (well done us, and yes Dad, you’re right, some don't get that long even for murder). So imagine our frustration when we arrived to be greeted with one of the longest queues we have ever seen. Moaning aside, it is pretty awesome and the rain that the heavy grey clouds were threatening at least held off for our arrival. After a quick whip round of the base sight, trying in vain to get shots without the tourists and their fluoro raincoats, and some fun llama selfies (naturally), we headed to Machu Picchu Mountain. Well, it was what we thought was Machu Picchu Mountain. Now, I love Rob, and it was our eleven year anniversary, and I so wanted it to be special, but when he dragged me up the WRONG mountain, I really had to work hard to keep the smile on my face. Because then it started to rain. And then we had only TEN minutes to get to the actual mountain entrance before our time slot was up. So then we had to run down the wrong mountain and up the start of the right mountain, and I lost my 'happy anni’ attitude somewhere along the way as the sweat and rain ran into my eyes. Two hours and thousands of rickety Inca steps later and we had reached the peak. Thankfully the views on the way up were pretty spectacular because when we made it to the top, we were greeted by a TOTAL white out. Happy Anni darling. Parts of the route down were quite frankly terrifying. It was now properly raining and some of the rocks were as slippery as ice. Steps which were about as deep as a two year olds foot and hugged the edges of some of the sheerest cliffs I have ever navigated. Down was definitely harder than up. I almost crawled down on my arse, the safest way.
The queue for the bus back down was insane and the rain was now torrential. Thank god we made it up early enough to have a half decent view in the morning. It was a relief to make it back down, we were soaked through, and more than ready to get the hell out of there. Time to leave beautiful Bolivia, with all its fabulous colours and outlandishly dressed cholitas. On to country number eight - Peru! We were not so lucky this time with the choice of bus company, but we only paid £10 for the whole journey so we can’t really complain. Ten uncomfortable and stiflingly hot hours later, where we endured sitting next to a monkey wearing a nappy on a lead, and a ropey, budget border crossing (see above) where a cocky, bullshitting, scamming official tried to screw us for not having our Bolivia exit slip, we finally arrived in Peru. More specifically, Arequipa. Luckily we had a lovely Airbnb booked, a relief after such an unpleasant journey. Arequipa, once the capital of Peru with a beautiful historic centre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It's whitewashed, grandiose buildings, interesting cultural sites and natural setting nestled between a string of volcanoes make it well worth a visit. Our highlight was undoubtedly wandering round Santa Catalina Monastery, a must see for anyone visiting the city. History lesson time. Built in 1579 it covers over 20,000 sqm and is characterised by its vividly painted walls. The tradition of the time was that the second son or daughter of a family would enter a life of service in the church, and the convent only accepted women from upper class Spanish families, with wach family paying a dowry for their daughter's admission. The dowry was 2,400 silver coins - about $150,000 today. The nuns were also required to bring 25 listed items, including a statue, a painting, a lamp and clothes. The wealthiest nuns brought fine English china, silk curtains and rugs. Although it was possible for poorer nuns to enter the convent without paying a dowry, it can be seen from their cells that most of the nuns were very wealthy. In addition to the stories of outrageous wealth, there are tales of nuns becoming pregnant, and amazingly of the skeleton of a baby being discovered encased in a wall. Naughty nuns. After visiting the monastery, we also popped into the Cathedral which was ok but not breathtaking. It wasn't ideal that we had to join a tour to view the place, or that the tour was in Spanish. Quite impressive at night when the facade is lit up, and interesting that it's the long side of the cathedral that faces the main square. The Recoletta Monastery is also worth a visit. It's a little further out of town but a bit of a hidden gem. The library especially was wonderful. We also popped in to see Juanita, aka the Ice Maiden, at the Museo Santuarios Andinos. Juanita is a 12-15 year old, well-preserved Incan mummy who was killed as an offering to the gods sometime between 1450 and 1480. Her tiny body was found in southern Peru by climbers inside a crater after it had fallen from an ancient Inca site on the summit. She is so well preserved that they could actually tell that her last meal before her death was vegetables. The museum is also full of all sorts of other offerings found with her, statues, food and linens. It is an odd set up but different to anything else we have seen before!
We had heard good things about laid back Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the largest lake in the world at an altitude of 3800m above sea level. To be fair, the town itself has very little of interest and it is mainly the lake excursions that draw everyone here. We were staying in a lovely little hostel/hotel called La Cupula, which was located on the hillside of Cerro Calvario. The views are awesome but the best things about this place are probably the resident alpacas, and the incredible sunsets over Lake Titicaca. Having heard about the good hiking and given that we had perfect weather, we set off on a walk that an American baker had recommended to us. It's safe to say that it didn't go entirely to plan. This was in part due to my new and irrational fear of countryside dogs, thanks to a horrific blog post I had read the previous night where some girl had been bitten by a rabid dog whilst wandering in Peru (and then had only twelve hours to get a rabies jab, hell). Anyway, I didn't get bitten but I did walk the whole journey with rocks in my hand and even Rob picked up a stick at one point. There was a lot of pausing when we heard dog barks. And a harried verging on hysterical ‘ROB, ARGHHH’ when I caught an Alsatian running my way before being called back by its owner. And then we realised we had gone the wrong way. So just as we started to think we would never find the famous Inca ruins we were hunting for, a smiley toothless farmer popped his head out of his field and took it upon himself to become our personal guide. He showed us round the whole site and gave detailed explanations (in Spanish) along the way. He was like a goat clambering up the rocky mountainside whilst we huffed and puffed in an effort to keep up. Rob knew enough Spanish to get the gist of it all. It was pretty fascinating. We would never have found or understood what we were looking at had he not guided us. It is astonishing to think that the Incas lived such civilised lives, with a court perched on the top of the mountain, jails, complicated drainage systems, even a birthing zone for expectant mothers to chill out with a view. We finally parted ways before a rather awkward pause where we finally worked out he was asking us for some money. But he had been so sweet in giving us his time so it was a no brainer. Our ride back to town was in the most hilariously ruined taxi. It sounded like the engine was in the front seat, the driver was a real boss and knowing he was our only ride back to town charged us an extortionate rate. But we were racing back for sunset so we laughed it off and held on for dear life. We made it to the top of Cerro Calvario just in time. The high altitude meant that our (ok, mainly my) lungs were on fire by the time we reached the top but it was worth it! The little pinpricks of light lining the beach in the photo below are the trucha (trout) stalls where we enjoyed a delicious dinner moments later. Isla Del Sol - the sunshine isle - and no wonder, because this place is gorgeous and a must visit for anyone nearby. You could probably swim there faster than the boat that takes you there (two hours later) and it isn't a particularly pleasant journey as the windows start at just above eye level and the engine fumes are noxious. As seems to always be the way with these Incas, the main town is on the top of the hill and the fairly strenuous climb takes around 30 mins, depending on how many times you stop. There are no cars, more pizzerias than people, and a lot of donkeys, whose brays penetrate the deep valleys. Oh and of course, llamas. Lots of llamas. There are two Isla Del Sol departure times from Copacabana, 8.30am or 1pm. As the last boat back is before sunset, we wanted to make the most of it and left on the early boat. Mysteriously, the north of the island was closed off to tourists. When we asked locals why this was, everyone clammed up and shook their heads disapprovingly. We later found out there was some sort of dispute going on between the villages up there so the boats that usually dropped you off there were suspended. This was a shame as it's reputed to be the most interesting and beautiful area of the island. But we didn't mind so much and enjoyed exploring the trails that were open. And a new #charliesinterestingrocksoftheworldseries was found: The green rock.
If you're in South America, go to La Paz and eat at Gustu. If you're not in South America, go to La Paz and eat at Gustu. Owned by Claus Meyer (the other founder of Noma you probably haven't heard of) this restaurant showcases Bolivian produce and cooking in an exciting, adventurous, and exemplary fashion. Whilst on the hunt for a new country with great produce to open a restaurant after Noma became such a success, the story goes that Claus stopped at Bolivia first, and needed to look no further. Bolivia is definitely a bit of a secret on the gastronomic circuit, with Argentina and Peru dominating the discourse in South America. However Gustu very much wants to, and definitely is, changing that. On arrival at the restaurant in a more affluent area of La Paz, we were rather unexpectedly led to the chef's table in the kitchen. The manager, Bertil from Copenhagen, ensured that the level of service is impeccable from the start. We were set for the full tasting menu with alcohol pairing (note, not simply wine pairing). Everything in the restaurant is from Bolivia, including the staff (but excluding Bertil), so we assumed alcohol pairing was due to the lack of Bolivian wine production. We were wrong. Bolivia has a thriving wine community, albeit too small in scale for international export. Rather like at Noma, the first number of small dishes come out very fast. Bertil personally explained every dish and the story that accompanied the ingredients. A fresh local San Javier cheese canapé was followed by cured trout from Lake Titcaca wrapped in a local vegetable that was described as the love affair between a cucumber and a green pepper. Then a nutty anticucho morsel, a play on a common late night street snack, which was a roast potato stuffed with peanuts. Then as if to satisfy the desire to eat real anticucho, a small but utterly delicious rabbit heart was served with a simple twist of local citrus fruit, a part of the rabbit usually destined to be thrown away. Spring onion three ways, then a slither of smoked Amazonian catfish which tasted like bacon. One of the most interesting dishes of the evening was up next. Alligator ceviche with cured watermelon rind and strawberry. This dish was aimed at sustainability as it apparently had only 0.5% waste. Interestingly, although the alligator is endangered in the wild, the restaurant pays the farmers double what they would normally get in a bid to encourage them to hunt less thereby saving the species from extinction. At some point in the evening we surely had to be served llama, and sure enough llama tartare with unripe Bolivian peaches, and an extremely nice peach and custard flavoured Bolivian white wine accompanied it. To show off his ability as a sommelier and mixologist, Bertil then topped up our glass with the same wine, but added beetroot juice, producing something tasting and looking like a red wine. The emphasis at Gustu is not just on Bolivian produce but also on local produce, which you might imagine is hard to find in a big polluted city like La Paz. However they have found an excellent tomato producer within sight of the restaurant who now produces just for them. A plate of superbly cooked and locally sourced beef, then pork, followed with more excellent wine. As if to prove the simplicity of wine knowledge in Bolivia, one producer still calls his red wine 'Bourganaisy', a misunderstanding from when the Burgundy grape was brought to South America a few hundred years ago. A breakfast cereal tasting, congee-like savoury porridge preceded the desserts, which started with a milk whey sorbet with smoked egg yolk and black limes dried on the restaurant roof. Then coffee mousse with brazil nut ice cream and burned meringue was accompanied by a dark local stout brewed in La Paz.
The amazing experience was concluded with a tour of the kitchens and various other spaces the restaurant now occupies. As with many recent top restaurants, the kitchens are as much a laboratory and research centre as they are a kitchen. The restaurant is also involved in a number of positive initiatives in La Paz, including an award for local stalls or restaurants which attain an extremely high level of hygiene (such as the delicious choripan stall we ate at in Mercado Lanza). Many thanks to the Gustu team for a really great and informative night, and congratulations on some of the best food we have eaten on our trip. La Paz is absolutely breathtaking. As you approach from the top of El Alto, the sheer size and density of the city sprawling throughout the valley is an incredible sight, with a backdrop of snowcapped volcanoes and the beautiful altiplano. However we were extremely apprehensive about visiting La Paz, the reputation is bad to put it lightly. It's often heralded as one of the most dangerous cities in South America so we almost skipped it, but we are so glad we didn't. Don't listen to the haters and guide books, it's really no more dangerous than any other South American capital city, as long as you avoid walking through poor slums with your flashy camera and iPhone, and don't walk around drunk alone late at night. La Paz is at over 3600m altitude so be prepared to be perpetually out of breath walking around, exacerbated by the fact the city predominantly sits on the side of a steep mountain. The airport in El Alto is even higher so flying in direct from sea level without acclimatising is not advised. By far the best way to get around is on the cable cars (telefericos), which are not expensive tourist traps to get a nice view like in other cities, they are the primary method of transport in La Paz for the locals and are extremely cheap. Additionally they provide an incredible way of seeing the city from above, which conveniently avoids the congested and heavily polluted roads below. La Paz has a number of sites worth a visit, from the bizarre to the extreme. The witches market is popular with tourists but appears to have become more of a token show for its guests than anything authentic. That said, the llama foetuses are reportedly still buried in the ground when pouring foundations for new buildings as an offering to Pachamama (similar to the miners use of llama blood - see Potosi post). Cholita wrestling is another popular sight in La Paz. Twice a week, a cross between WWF and pantomime happens in a boxing ring in the middle of El Alto. Young Bolivian women dressed traditionally wrestle each other in front of predominantly tourists for an exorbitant price. It was a bit of harmless fun for all the family. However, the highlight of La Paz is probably the food. Food hygiene is not always Bolivia's strongest quality, so stick to recommendations wherever possible and you won;t go wrong. The highlight of our food experiences in La Paz (and possible one of the best of the whole trip) was Gustu, an in depth review of which follows this post. The manager at Gustu, Bertil, recommended a number of places to eat, and one in particular called Ali Pacha, set up by an old colleague of his. It's a vegetarian/vegan restaurant which wouldn't normally appeal straight away, however we were to be very surprised. Local and seasonal ingredients were exquisitely presented in a small but really well designed basement setting, with flawless service. Ali Pacha is high end cooking at an extremely reasonable price, and could well be destined to become one of Bolivia's top restaurants. The highlight was undoubtedly the beetroot ceviche, it is worth visiting this restaurant just to try it. |
AuthorsRob & Charlie's travelling adventures on their long journey back to London after living in Hong Kong. Four continents, twelve countries, lots of experiences. Archives
July 2017
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Robert Ware & Charlotte Nunn |