Medelin,Colombia

21 August 2008

I had wanted to visit Cartagena,on Colombia's coast, but the fare from Lima was more than I had bargained for, around $747. Which made me start thinking about taking a national flight south, to Tacna, and going by road to Chile. I just didn't care for the idea of going to Chile for a fourth time.

But Eugeene emailed me with a price of $425 to Medellín.

So, I left Lima at around 5:35 PM today and,after a stopover in Bogotá, arrived in Medellín at 10:40 PM.

I had heard that a cab would cost about $25, so was extremely pleased to find a small bus parked outside the terminal that cost 6,000 pesos (about $4). It was quite far to the city and I kept thinking, if I had taken a cab for that long ride, which seemed to be about 25 miles, that after paying, I would have had enough left to turn around and take the cab back to the airport.

When the bus arrived in town, I was pointed to a cab, and I gave the guy who ushered me to the cab, $1. We had a difficult time finding my hostel, partly because I wrote Casa Wiki, instead of Casa Kiwi. But something may have been amiss with the address, even though I wrote it down as I saw it on the internet. We finally got directions when I asked a guard to call the hostel, and we were about the drive past, after midnight, when I just spotted the name.

Not having one peso, I borrowed 5,000 pesos from the hostel, and paid the driver, along with $1 tip.

And I went to bed.

Surco, Lima, Peru

Surco, Lima, Peru
Originally uploaded by Barrybar

I'm being served a salad in a restaurant at the corners of Avenidas Aviación and Valles del Sur.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Back in Lima, Peru

I return to Lima

I got out of bed in Boulder, Colorado about 5 AM on 27 February and Geneva drove me to the bus station on Walnut Street. I caught the 9:19, and the driver questioned my age when I confirmed through him that seniors paid $5.50. He accepted when I told him that Hitler was raising hell the year I was born.

Got to the airport at about 7:40, a full half an hour before the arrival of the $25 ride, which would've picked me up at home.

Caught the plane to Atlanta and left there more than an hour late. Turns out that several people hadn't shown up and they had to find their luggage and take it off the plane. Consequently, we arrived in Lima one hour late, at 1 AM.

I was lucky on several counts. I was among the first dozen passengers who passed through Immigration; then stood for about 12 minutes a the wrong baggage station but got a cart and went to the correct one, where I waited for about half an our for my two duffel bags.

Second stroke of luck. When I pushed the button it turned green, which is my cue to leave Customs.

Then, third stroke of luck, when I turned the corner I heard and saw Felix and Rosi. Felix it was who shouted my name, even though we were yet to meet.

Third stroke of luck. Now you don't need to leave the cart inside the terminal, but can push it outside with all your luggage. That is a big improvement.

So, here I am, at the second week after my arrival, still adjusting to being at sea level and the heat. I make it a point never to complain about the heat, because I complain mightily against the cold.

So far, I have gone three times to see my friend Alejandra compete in a program on TV called Desafio & Fama. She is a dancer and has been doing quite well so far.

Here are a few photos that I took of her.

Chemainus, Vancouver Island, B.C.

Chemainus, Vancouver Island, B.C.
Originally uploaded by Barrybar

I took a train from Victoria and headed north to Chemainus, for the second time on my two trips to Vancouver Island. The first thing that one sees, leaving the train is the first of more than three dozen murals. That was what marked the town the first time I visited, and it still does today.

Boulder, Colorado

Boulder, Colorado
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

In the restaurant/bar, El Centro, on Pearl Street at 10th Street

Boulder, Colorado

Boulder, Colorado
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

Gallup, New Mexico

Gallup, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

Early one morning in August, taken from South 1st Street.

Santa Fe, New Mexico

Santa Fe, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

A hotel on Alameda Street, downtown Santa Fe. Three shots, stitched using DoubleTake.

Gallup, New Mexico

Gallup, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

Red Rock State Park, about 5 miles east of downtown Gallup. A panorama of three shots.

Gallup, New Mexico

Gallup, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

Long Walk Home
Richard K. Yazzie, murallist, 2005

In 1864, during a period of destabilization among U.S. settlers, Spanish inhabitants and Native Americans, the Navajo and some Apachee were singled out by the U.S. government as responsible for raiding. Thousands of Navajo people were forcibly marched from Canoon de Chelly by Colonel Kit Carson, on orders of Brigadier Geeneral James H. Carleton, to Fort Sumner, 400 miles away. Eventually, 7,000 Navajo were imprisoned there.

The captives suffered four years of deplorable conditions of drought, hunger and cold until it no longer became feasible to hold them. The Peace Treaty of 1868 was signed and the Navajo were released. At Fort Wingate, livestock and other supplies were distributed. From there the Navajo dispersed allong the Rio Puerco, where Gallup was later founded in 1881, to their ancestral homeland, now a defined reservation.

Note: This is the kind of rainbow that I saw for the first time in my life, both ends in plain sight, as I entered Santa Fe about a week ago.

Gallup, New Mexico

Gallup, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

Women's Mullti-cultural Mural
Erica Rae Sykes, muralist, 2005

Centuries before Gallup's founding in 1881, this was a region of interweaving native cultures -- Navajo, Hopi and Zuni. Resources of coal, timber, railroads and trading attracted settlers and created a city of increasing cultural diversity.

We offer a tribute to the women who have carried on the traditions of daily life of their own cultures, raising children, making gardens and neighborhoods. Women who have perpetuated special holidays. Women who have had a major role in forming our cultural organizations, churches, schools and libraries.

The large symbolic storyteller at the left of the mural pays homage to the women who have kept multi-cultural memories alive by telling stories of the past.

[From the plaque by the mural]

Portland, Oregon

Portland, Oregon
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

I was on my way the post office when I came upon this May Day, pro-immigration demonstration going south on 12th Avenue. I don't know at what point I saw them, but it was several blocks long.

Bad buses, bad drivers kill hundreds annually on Andean roads

I've been explaining to my friends, for years now, why, after nine years, I don't know Peru. It is because the roads are terrible, each week I read about another bus going over another precipice, and I'm simply partial to dying in bed.

Here's an article that supports my thinking: Bad buses, bad drivers kill hundreds annually on Andean roads

A Higher Plane...Bar None

A Higher Plane...Bar None
Originally uploaded by Robin Thom.

My Flickr friend, Robin, took this shot, during a stop on a tour of Vancouver. He's a hell of a driver and a wonderful person.

Cojímar, Cuba

Cojímar, Cuba
Originally uploaded by Barrybar.

Friends of mine

Return from hibernation

I cannot believe that I have been in hibernation since 24 August 2005, when I visited Ecuador.

Since then, I've travelled to Kingston, to another place, to Orlando, and am planning to leave for Vancouver, Canada by the end of this month. Of course, I did find some difficulty getting to computers while I was in the Caribbean, but I certain had access to a computer in Orlando. I just didn't have the desire to catch up, to bring my blog up to date.

Let's see how much energy will be generated to keep my blog current.

How many miles to Mall del Sol?

Tuesday, 23 August 2005

Today, I set out on foot, to find the graffiti that I saw from the tour bus the day before. It was just about the only decent graffiti I've seen in this city, on the wall of the University of Guayaquil.

So I left the hostel and headed on, I think, Francisco Roca R. toward the other malecon down Blvd. 9 de Octubre. After several blocks, I ask a man at a corner where the malecon is. He pointed left, but then I spot what looks like graffiti in the opposite direction. So I head in pursuit and find some political graffiti. And realize that I am on the right track, have taken the right direction, and that the graffiti which I seek is about 150 meters down the road.

I took about eight shots of the graffiti, but it was risky having my butt out into heavy traffic. Afterwards, I asked a newspaper guy which direction to the Mall del Sol. I follow his direction. Finally, it seems like five miles in all, I arrive at the mall, in pursuit of a biography of Fidel Castro. The name of the book and the author, I left in my notebook in Lima and have totally forgotten.

In the second bookstore, I see a book which appears to be the one I am looking for, a hardcover which cost $34. I am thinking about the weight, as well as the cost. Later, I find a really big bookstore at the other end of the mall, upstairs.

But before I enter the bookstore, I set to take a photo of an ad outside a store and heard a young woman call out to me to tell me that it is now allowed. However, I already have the photo. Shoot first, ask later.

This bookstore has the book, paperback, for $9. Great.

I leave the bookstore and talk to some heavily armed policeman about how to get to the cemetery. They call a cab. The driver warns me against visiting the cemetery by making a slashing motion at his throat.

I then shift the discussion to the Botannical Garden. I don't seem to be getting much encouragement here either, but I insist. So, we're off, and it will only cost $4. We arrive, and I he rejects a $1 tip. The guy at the gate assures me that there are lots of flowers. But my tour of the place makes him out to be a lying motherfucker.

It is a grand excuse for a botannical garden. Nobody has spent any time making the place live up to its name. And the bathrooms have no toilet paper, not soap either.

But I do get a few pictures of orchids, about seven varieties. Got close to a few butterflies, and very close to hundreds of dead ones used to spell out Botannico de Guayaquil, or something close.

The driver, as promised, returned at 1:30 PM, and I stopped him for a minute to take photos of graffiti on a wall nearby, and alighted on Blvd. 9 de Octubre, near Escobedo. I tipped him about $5 and this time he accepted it.

I wandered around quite a bit, got about five of my smartmedia cards with photos transferred to CD, then the one CD copied. I am learning my lesson quite late, having lost 17,000 photographs, many of them irreplaceable.

Then I sat at a juice bar, drank too much juice and felt quite uncomfortable. Walked slowly back to the hostel, read a bit, and then went to bed.

I arrive in Guayaquil, Ecuador

Friday, 19 August 2005

It's 12:44 PM and I am standing in a long line, one of about six, at immigration in Guayaquil. Taca 026 from Lima had landed about 15 minutes earlier. I want to pee but there is nothing to be done about it until we pass through immigration, and they are being interminably slow because, apparently, the machines are down or something of the sort.

The line hasn't moved in 10 minutes.

Eventually, I pass through immigration and exit the terminal building. A man approaches me with a hard sell. I am asking for tourist information, but he says he has all the information I need. Finally, I find information, not tourist information per se but get booklets and a hotel and a hostel. I figure the hostel because it costs $12/night.

I return to the hard sell guy and he tells me a taxi will cost $5, and that I have to give him a tip. I give him a dollar and he hands me a map of central Guayaquil. Free.

At 1:48 PM, I'm in a room with two beds, in Pacifico Hostelling Int., at Escobedo 811 between Junin & L. Uerdaneta. I am only three blocks from Blvd. 9 de Octubre, the main drag, and about 5 or so blocks from the malecon, the best looking malecon that I have ever seen. Makes the malecon in Buenos Aires look sort of ordinary.

I visit the malecon and take a bunch of pictures.

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Patrick Barry Barr