ISSUE #8
f l se
INDULGED www.selfindulged.com
Photography by Sandra Herd
Wicked Wanderings Part 1: Santiago to Mendoza Prague A Dear John letter UBTheorMongolian Not UB? Capital
Arequipa
Photo Essay The City Within a City
...and much more!
+WIN Lonely Planet’s “THE CITIES” Book with “Where’s Dave?” TRAVEL - PRAGUE - WICKED WANDERINGS - ULAAN BAATAR - PERU + MORE!
Lose yourself Not your mind
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ISSUE #8
COVER PHOTO: The beautiful Charles Bridge over the River Vltava in Prague, Czech Republic. Written by Sandra Herd Photographer: Sandra Herd Designer: Sandra Herd Editor: Sandra Herd Research:Sandra Herd Operations & Wicked Van Driver: Dave Goldstraw www.selfindulged.com www.shotsinternational.com sandy@selfindulged.com www.facebook.com/selfindulgedmag Self Indulged takes no responsibility for links leading to external content. By reading this publication you are agreeing to click on external links at your own risk. The links have been included soley as a source of information.
Welcome to the much awaited Issue 8. The ‘Cities’ Issue. This is the second last issue that will be coming to you from ‘on the road’...thank goodness! Not that I want our travels to end but finding travel free time over the past 3 months to produce this edition has been a huge effort so thank you for your patience. We’re still in South America and over the past 3 months have struggled with altitude in Potosi and Sucre. I’ve fractured a rib with a hacking cough...the cough has gone away, the fracture has not. We re-oxygenated with 3 days in the Bolivian jungle away from any computer access but then went right back into the altitude of the world’s highest Capital city, La Paz. We got caught up in a protest in Peru then got stranded on a broken down overnight bus at temperatures of -10c. We have seen parties and festivals. We’ve seen llama slaughtered in sacrifice, shared drinks with miners, travellers, guides, countless Irish people and Pachamama, witnessed the ‘face’ in Macchu Picchu at sunrise and flown over the mysterious Nazcar lines in the desert. We have NOT yet eaten guinea pig! But these are all tales to come. This particular issue is all about cities...inspired by a ‘Parting Shot’ image I took in La Paz on page 74. We visit UB at Naadam, an exciting but sometimes dangerous time to be in the Mongolian capital. I tell you my thoughts about Prague, a stunningly beautiful city trying to find a balance between tourist order and chaos. We visit Mendoza, Argentina’s wine capital but what makes this trip so much fun is the WICKED van we drove from Santiago to Mendoza. We loved it so much there’s a Part 2 in the next issue when we drive the van into the Atacama Desert. And finally, there’s a photo essay of Arequipa in Peru and the City within a City. I realised quite coincidentally after I put this issue together that 3 out of the 4 cities featured have some of the WORST taxi drivers in the world consisting of cheats, bullies and kidnappers eek!! – don’t worry, I’ll give you the dirt inside.
Thanks for coming along for the ride.
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p60 Arequipa 8 :: 28 :: 68 :: 71 :: 72 ::
Wish You Were Here Where’s Dave? Gadgets, Gizmos & Goodstff Specialist Directory Parting Shots
p10 Mendoza: Wicked Wanderings
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p46 Ulaan Baatar IN W 8 Pg 2 LANET’S P Y L K! E O N O O B L IES T I C THE
p30 Prague
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WISH YOU W ed, elf Indulg ment of Buenos S r a e D ss .I s unfair our asse a y w k e in u h s t I a wonlast is d r a u o h y d in n a ago Aires a MUST 2 years is e r w o e h h t s pngo was d your o . The ta e e it im m t li l u ly f ab der you prob ou didn’t underk in h t I , DO s why y ’ t a h t d Africa. Our tions an h t ou . S t y in s it n u m he c hometow tell me I ‘ stand t Come to my er person ! autiful!! noth ream If I hear a how I think I’ll sc os do’ a tang -Sandy
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are be landscapes Just sayin’ ou there Jake ke...may see y a J st li ’ o d o e ‘t Africa is on th one day. -Sandy
Have your say HERE! drop me an email at sandy@selfindulged.com
WERE HERE!
G’day ! I’m pla nn trip ar ing a 3 mon th ound t h Using Self In e world. dulged inspira tion. for Thank s mat e! Jon
Very co ol! Let u where you ge s know t to. -Sandy
, ‘A little piece of I really enjoyed your piece Peace’ cycle the canal path I live around the area and rk. Thanks for remindmost days on my way to wo gh fresh eyes. I’m preting me to ‘look again’ throu ol part of London. ty lucky to live in such a co Sincerely, Sarah - UK e a step back every now and Thanks Sarah. It’s nice to tak have through another perthen and appreciate what we sons eyes.
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Wanderings
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Part 1: Santiago to Mendoza...the WICKED way!
The ‘Sunset’ Van
Words: Sandra Herd Photography: Sandra Herd
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W
e searched ‘Santiago to Mendoza’ on Google our own camper meant that we had the freedom Maps and zoomed in. A conspicuous crinkle ap- to discover Mendoza - the city and the surroundpeared in the little yellow line on the Chilean side ing province of Mendoza on our own terms, withof the Andes near the Chile/Argentine border. out the restrictive schedules on offer by most As we zoomed in more, we could see the 28 one-day tour companies. loops which translated in real “I prayed that Pablo and his We were staying at La Casa life into the 28 steep switchRoja in Santiago, a noisy but backs that lead up and up to team had given us all of the fun backpackers with a conthe Paso Internacional Los correct paperwork...thank- venient car park right next Libertadores – the mountain fully they had. 3 copies. One door. Pablo (the owner of the pass through the Andes from Wicked South America franChile into Argentina and the of which was stamped, squig- chise) and his small but dedimajor supply route into Men- gled on, signed, stamped, dat- cated team had made all of doza, Argentina’s acclaimed ed and then stamped again” the necessary arrangements ‘wine’ region. It was the also for us to cross the border into the same road that we would Argentina with the vehicle. be taking in our newly rented Wicked van. The appropriate paperwork and the dazzlingly Certainly, there are plenty of tourist buses mak- bright ‘Sunset’ van (complete with snow chains ing the 6 hour trip from Santiago to Mendoza but inside – just in case – yikes!) were delivered to when we discovered that Wicked Vans had a the hostel along with the parting words of advice, franchise in South America with their head office “Have fun exploring!” in Santiago we knew right away that this was go- This was going to be fun...WICKED fun! ing to be a great way to cross the border. Having 12 SELFINDULGED
Photo: The beautiful colours at Potrerillos Lake
Highest mountain in South America: Aconcagua Chile/Argentina Border
Cacheuta Hot Springs
Puente del Inca Potrerillos Lake
Google Maps SELFINDULGED 13
Photo: Tunnels through the mountain pass. Day One To be fair, we may have left our run a little late. By the time we’d kitted out the van with supplies and arranged the large storage spaces under the bed to make our home away from home comfortable for the next week, it was already past lunch time. The drive out of the city centre was mercifully simple. We’d purchased the basic insurance as required by Wicked Campers (our travel insurance covered the rest in case of an accident) but the last thing we wanted to do was damage Frank Bauer’s artwork on the outside of the van. Dave was driving and took it easy until he got a feel for the roads, the traffic and the Chilean drivers. Before long we’d left most of the traffic behind and were heading straight for the mountain pass. We drove up and up and into the switchbacks, hulking trucks sped past us on the straights. We weren’t going particularly slowly but they were going particularly fast for such heavy loads on such a treacherous road. We began to see stationary chairlifts overhead reminding us that, in the winter this mountainside is covered
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with deep snow and ski runs. We passed the ‘closed for the season’ Penitentes ski resort and drove on through the snow patched mountains and on into Argentina and our first glimpses of Aconcagua, South America’s highest peak. We drove straight into Argentina....and straight past Border Control which admittedly was hard to miss considering it was the size of a giant warehouse but t was off the main road with no directions or signage. We managed to eventually drive into the exit and could see the rows of cars inside waiting for processing. We found the entry and joined the masses. The border crossing was a combined Chile & Argentine customs control centre. A huge building with one road in and splitting into six laneways inside. Trying to decipher which lane we should be in was our first issue but we just picked one and stuck with it, ready to plead ignorant if it was wrong... and anyway, if it was wrong there was no way to back out. The lanes were chock-a-block as the various cars were stopped, processed and searched. I prayed that Pablo and his team had
given us all of the correct paperwork...thankfully they had - 3 copies. One of which was stamped, squiggled on, signed, stamped, dated and then stamped again. Passports and papers were checked first by the Chilean officials and then by the Argentine officials, and then...nearly two hours later, the solitary guy who was employed to search every car for contraband had his turn checking the van and putting his final squiggle on the much abused ‘wicked’ paperwork, I listened to the dull thud of my freshly purchased avocadoes and tomatoes going into the ‘prohibited food bin’ as he ransacked our supplies. We hadn’t banked on a dual border. We knew it was illegal to carry fruit and veg into Chile but the Argentines don’t care if it comes in from Chile... luckily they didn’t discover my coveted chorizo sausage at the bottom of the cooler. That would have been a tragedy. By the time we exited the ‘warehouse’ it was dark outside and we’d lost an additional hour with the time difference. “Sod it,” we thought, we abandoned our plans to stop overnight on the way and drove all the way to Mendoza in the dark stopping just once at a
petrol station to use the facilities. At this point I will broach the sensitive subject of facilities...the khazie, the loo whatever you want to call it...there is obviously not one in the van. We’ve driven in Wicked Vans in Australia in the past and always the same question comes up? Where do you go to the toilet? It’s puzzling to me that this causes such consternation among enquiring minds. The chances are you’ll park up at a campground with facilities anyway but if not, and you’re in a city, there is always a petrol station/cafe/McDonalds (sad but true) nearby and if you’re sooo far away from anywhere with any bathrooms anyway the chances are it’s OK to ‘shock – horror’ go somewhere behind a rock or strategically placed bush (there’s soap and water in the van). On this particular night we picked a random backstreet in the heart of Mendoza and woke up busting! Day Two “Buenos Dias!” I said and grinned at the puzzled look on the old ladies’ face as we opened up the van’s side door to a busy weekday morning on SELFINDULGED 15
the streets of Mendoza. Hair tussled and desperate for the loo we put on our boots in the back and wiped the condensation from the front window. She was sweeping her front path and we were parked on the road in our bright orange van, right outside the front of her house – something we were unaware of in the lateness of the hour of which we arrived. She grinned back, “Buenos Dias, Senorita”, and carried on sweeping. Our plan for the day was to explore the streets of Mendoza and to find an actual campground with showers where we could base ourselves for a few nights. We did both. We found our campground refuge at the North end of the wonderful Parque General San Martin. The park is a 420 hectare oasis of green just 2km west of the centre of town with a large lake, a zoo, a golf club and sports stadium. We drove in through the huge, imposing gates of the main entrance and stopped at the Tourist Info Centre just to the left of the first roundabout. We were informed there were a few campgrounds within the park itself (not the cheapest and not the best) and a few just NorthEast of the park. We booked into a site at the far end of the park which seemed to be more of a retirement place for ex-servicemen but had tennis courts and hot showers. We had a quick shower then headed back out to explore the park...in the van of course. We stopped by the lake for lunch in the warm sunshine. The lake itself is a man made marvel, beautiful from a distance but disappointingly dirty up close. The tourist flyer for the park states “As the city of Mendoza was built in the middle of a desert, the park is an artificially irrigated forest, populated by an estimated 50,000 trees. For many, the park’s verdant environment is a credit to man’s ingenuity and commitment” it then goes on to say that “the artificial lake serves as a water storage facility for the irrigation of the park” and that “swimming was once permitted at the end of the lake” It’s easy to understand why swimming is no longer permitted, sadly, the lake is putrid and littered with stagnant rubbish along the banks. Disappointed, we drove on into the city centre where, for a small hourly fee, it was surprisingly easy to find parking. We pounded the streets in the city centre for a few hours, I was surprised to see a red ‘English’ telephone box and even more surprised by the bright pink water shooting up from a fountain in the main
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Photo: The hot pools of Termas Cacheuta
plaza. Bars and restaurants were plentiful but I was looking forward to getting the van back to our campsite so that we could cook up a spicy chorizo pasta and wash it down with a glass or two of red under the stars...well, the moon at least. Day Three Driving out to the hot springs, we had our first encounter with corrupt officials. The Police in Chile are harsh but fair...some of the cops in Argentina are not. As we drove down the main highway we were stopped by six officers making random checks. It seems that, in Argentina, driving during the day without headlights on is illegal. I handed over our paperwork and explained that we were unaware of this law but would turn our lights on and be on our way. Nope. This was a serious offence and was going to cost us a 250peso (about $50) fine. We were only speaking to one officer; the others were on the far side of the van waiting. He wanted to keep Dave’s licence and the van paperwork and said it would be returned when we made a payment at a bank. Trying to figure out firstly which bank we would have to go to and then how we could get back our paperwork from the Police was just too hard. His English was bad, my Spanish was worse. He wouldn’t back down so I pulled out my purse and said, “I need that paperwork, we leave Argentina tomorrow – small fib. I will pay you now” This is what he’d been waiting for...he suddenly became shifty and circled the amount he required on his notepad. I walked past him as I counted the money, making sure his colleagues were in full view and could see what I was doing. He laughed nervously and said “No, no, is not necessary (his English immediately improved), there is no penalty, you may go” within seconds he’d handed me the license and paperwork and we drove away...with our lights on and the 250pesos back in my purse. I was looking forward to the Thermal Water Park at Cacheuta. According to their website, “The negative ionization of Cacheuta’s air contributes to the guests’ intense relaxation and renewal of energy”. Erm...awesome. As we drove down the beautiful tree lined road towards Cacheuta I noticed a blot on the landscape. A huge gas/petroleum station in the valley was pumping out smoke at a rate of knots - I hoped that this wasn’t where the ‘negative ions’ were coming from. Termas Cacheuta is less than 40kms out of the SELFINDULGED 17
city on a dead-end road, surrounded by mountains and situated next to the Mendoza River. We pulled off the last stretch of the dusty road into the dusty carpark which, it seemed, was just for tourist buses. We paid a pittance of 10pesos to park the Wicked van safely in the yard of one of the friendly locals who had set up his own ‘car park’. We parked next to another camper and his two huge dogs guarded our mobile homes for the day. And it was a full day. We’d intended to stay for just a few hours but the warm pools, the beautiful setting, the sunshine and the negative ions – obviously, coaxed us into spending a very lazy day soaking in the spas and soaking up the rays...and that is why I loved having the van so much. We’d changed our plans at the last minute without a second thought. If we’d have been on a tour we wouldn’t have been able to stay and, what’s more, we had enough food in the esky in the back of our van for a wonderful picnic within the grounds of the water park. We ordered some barbequed meat from the small cafe and made a crisp salad and salsa (I’d since replenished my stocks of tomatoes and avocado) to go with it. We even had a large bottle of beer still icy cold in the esky from the night before. Perfect. That evening we drove back to town, through the main park and set up a new camp at Campsite Suizo - a few kilometres north-east of San Martin Park in Challao. There was a supermarket on the way where we restocked the esky with ice and supplies for our evening meal and drove on past the suburb of Dalvian, a posh, gated community high on the hill overlooking the city below. The van allowed us to see the different sides of Mendoza not often seen by tourists. Dalvian had beautiful houses and manicured lawns and security guards sitting by boom gates on the junctions off the main road to keep the riff-raff out. A stark contrast to the crumbling slums and unpaved streets of rubbish that we stumbled upon in the van, less than 15kms away on the western outskirts of the park. The Lonely Planet advises against walking in the Parque General San Martin alone at night...good advice. Day Four Mr Hugo’s Bike Tours (in Maipu) As soon as I stepped through the front gate Mr Hugo was there with the darkest jug of ‘red’ wine
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Photo: Peddling to the wineries
I’ve ever seen. He greeted me with a big grin and started to pour. First things first...where could we put the van? Although he understood very little English and me, very little Spanish I managed to communicate that we were travelling in a camper and, given that we were going to spend the afternoon sampling Mendoza’s finest wines, we would need somewhere to park it for the night. He escorted us back out and across the road and within moments our Wicked Van was safely tucked away in some-bodies (I’m assuming a friend of Mr Hugo’s) driveway, directly across from Mr Hugo’s establishment and a few doors down from the local police station. The jovial Mr Hugo assured us that he’d keep an eye on the van throughout the day and it would be fine to sleep in it overnight in the same spot. Sounded good to me...now, where was that jug! Immediately we were kitted out with a bike and a map highlighting a selection of wineries, an olive farm, the Museum of Wine and a brewery. We started at the Olive farm, which wasn’t really a farm. It was a place where you could taste the product but the actual olives were produced in a different part of Mendoza. I was seduced early by the tastings and bought a jar of delicious olive pesto and a small bottle of hot green chilli liqueur which left an amazing afterburn in my throat. We loaded our goodies and set off for the Bodega La Rural wine museum which was thankfully pretty much next door...it had been a long time since I’d ridden a bicycle and already the ache in my posterior had started. As we continued to follow Mr Hugo’s map it became apparent that the ‘cartographer’ must have been on the vino at the time of production as the distances on the map beared absolutely no resemblance to anything in real life. We found ourselves spending much of the day peddling down a main dusty highway with very little alcoholic reward. The brewery had a choice of just 3 beers but we stayed for a while anyway simply because it took such a bloody long time to pedal there! Our last stop was the Bodega Vina El Cerno where we accidently walked in on a tour that had just begun and agreed to join for the equivalent of $10 which actually turned out to be the highlight of the day. I’m more of a beer connoisseur but I did try my first ever Malbec (which was rather tasty), learned a little about wine ‘tears’ (no, they’re not the ones you cry when your last bottle is empty) and was informed that the darker/more purple the wine is, SELFINDULGED 19
Photo: The spectacular Puente Del Inca
the lower the quality...Yep, Mr Hugo was giving away the cheap (and I mean cheap) stuff. We peddled all the way back, returned the bikes and sat in Mr Hugo’s garden swapping wine stories and downing the cheap purple plonk. At 8pm Mr Hugo rounded up his customers and made sure everyone caught their bus back to Mendoza. At 8:30pm we borrowed Mr Hugo’s ‘facilities’ for the last time and stumbled...I mean, walked across the road to our little van and home for a well deserved rest. *Be aware that if you take part in an independent bike wine tour in Mendoza you should be on alert. DO NOT put your backpack in the basket on the front of the bike. There are thieves who ride motorbikes and target tourists, grabbing backpacks out of the baskets. The day we were there a motorcyclist tried to actually grab a backpack off a guys back...he was cycling alone but luckily two others saw and came to his aid. Try to stay in groups and never drink so much that you don’t have your wits about you. Want to know more about the wines of Mendoza? Check out Wine Republic, Mendoza’s free online Wine Magazine. Day Five Fresh air was the only thing that was going to cure our ills and it was time to at least think about heading back in the direction of Chile. We had no actual plans for the day but decided to have one last drive around and found ourselves in the tiny town of Vistalba before we headed back out onto Route 7, the main road back to Santiago. As we gained altitude on Route 7 we noticed a huge lake to the right of us, something we’d completely missed in the darkness on our arrival into Mendoza province. It was the Presa Embalse de Potrerillos. A large dam on the Mendoza River forms the 12km long artificial lake. We zipped down towards the lake for a closer look and decided, even though it was early, we would stay here for the night. I was pleasantly surprised to find the tiny tourist office was open on a Sunday. I could see immediately that this would be an outdoor adventurer’s paradise in summer with countless tour operator flyers offering kayaking, white-water rafting, zip-lining, repelling, trekking and horse riding. The backdrop was fittingly beautiful, the lake was enveloped by the surrounding mountains and the cypress trees Photo: Souvenirs in the process of being ‘petrified’ 22 SELFINDULGED
reflected a bright orange autumn glow on the still waters of the northwest shore. We checked into a loveless AAA campsite just over the bridge outside of town but we needn’t have bothered, there was no hot water (we only checked in so we could have a hot shower) and there were plenty of places by the lake where we could’ve pulled up for the night when we finally did stop for the day. We followed the town map we’d been given at the info centre, curious to check-out ‘Las Vegas’ which was marked on the map. Las Vegas was a delightful settlement mostly catering to the summer tourist and bore absolutely NO resemblance to its North American namesake. There were simple cabins for hire and campgrounds (they didn’t have any hot water either) everywhere. On the short uphill drive between Potrerillos and Las Vegas we noticed piles and piles of water bottles by the side of the road. On closer inspection we saw that they were shrines and the bottles were filled with water. At the time we thought this an odd curiosity but since researching I now know that these are shrines to the ‘unofficial’ saint, Difunta Correa. According to popular legend and ‘Wikipedia’, “Deolinda Correa was a woman whose husband was forcibly recruited around the year 1840, during the Argentine civil wars. Becoming sick, he was then abandoned by the Montoneras [partisans]. In an attempt to reach her sick husband, Deolinda took her baby child and followed the tracks of the Montoneras through the desert of San Juan Province. When her supplies ran out, she died. Her body was found days later by guachos that were driving cattle through, and to their astonishment found the baby still alive, feeding from the deceased woman’s “miraculously” ever-full breast. The men buried the body in present-day Vallecito, and took the baby with them.” Deolinda Correa has since become the unofficial regional patron saint of travellers, farmers, and all those whose lives or livelihoods depend on a precarious supply of water. Bottles are added to the shrines as a form of offering or prayer...obviously no one is praying for a cleaner environment. As we drove back down to Villa Potrerillos the mouth watering smells of bbq permeated the air as the locals slowly but steadily took over the banks of the lake with their deck chairs and grills.
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It seemed everyone had a metal plate with them and spot fires were lit against trees, in rock clusters, anywhere and everywhere. It was great to see so many locals having a late Sunday lunch in the open air it was a little disconcerting to see so many open fires. We followed the road around the lake and onto a smooth dirt track and up onto a high point overlooking the entire lake. We parked up, set out the table and our stylish pink stools and cracked open a cold beer while we watched the locals enjoying the late afternoon. People were kite surfing and kayaking on the lake. Young men hooned around on quad bikes, one resolute ice cream vendor man even made it to the top of the lookout with his ice-cream laden bicycle, causing a racket with his old fashioned air horn and attracting the kids like moths to a flame. It was fabulous. We stuck around for sunset then retired back to the campground before it got too dark on the track. DaySix The next morning the light on the glowing Cyprus trees was amazing. We made a morning coffee on our camp stove (I loved being in the van...it didn’t matter where we were, a cup of coffee was only ever a boiling pot away) then got back onto Route 7 for the 50km drive to Uspallata. Again, on the drive in, we had seen nothing of Uspallata or the surrounding scenery. At an altitude of 1751m this beautiful valley was certainly a spectacle not to be missed. A mass of more ‘outdoor’ tour operators lined the main street offering the chance to explore the beautiful nature in and around the valley. Interestingly, Uspallata and the surrounding mountains were used as a backdrop (masquerading as the Tibetan Himalayas) to film the movie Seven Years in Tibet. The town’s location means it makes a great base for those mountaineers who are eager to take on the highest peak in South America, Cerro Aconcagua. At 6962m, Aconcagua is not only the highest peak in the Andes but the highest point outside of Asia, easy to see why it was chosen as a substitute Himalaya. We’d left it too late to purchase a permit to climb the ‘stone sentinel’ – ahem! A feat that requires much training and should not be taken lightly as the mountain has claimed its fair share of victims in the past. Further along the route we finally reached the destination I had been longing to see. The strik24 SELFINDULGED
Photo: The Feng Shang floating Chinese restaurant in the Cumberland Basin...on the way to Camden Lock. Photo: Watching the locals enjoy Potrerillos Lake. Boating, kitesurfing, kayaking and barbecuing! SELFINDULGED 13
Photo: One of the many bottle shrines
Photo: Horses for hire on the road to Las Vegas
ingly beautiful and bizarre Puente Del Inca. The ‘Inca Bridge’ is a natural stone bridge spanning the Vacas River, a tributary of the Mendoza River. The legend of Puente Del Inca tells of a “great Incan chief who had a sick son suffering from paralysis. After trying all sorts of cures with no result he heard that in the south lands there was a place where healing waters could put an end to his son’s disgrace. Without delay, he prepared a group of his best warriors and made his way to the high peaks. When he arrived he observed, in amazement, the famous waters that came out of the earth, but before them lay a torrential river that denied them access. His warriors, to make their chief’s dream a reality, did not hesitate to embrace one another, and forming a human bridge, they reached the other side. The Incan chief walked over their backs with his son in his arms and reached the thermal source where he found the cure he sought. When he looked back to thank his warriors, according to the legend, they had been turned to stone, creating the famous “Puente Del Inca”. (Source: www. mendozatravel.com) The building within the rock formation is the Hotel Puente del Inca. It was built in 1925 as a hot spring resort for the wealthy elite and was destroyed by an avalanche in 1965. At the bottom of the formation near the river the local tradespeople place racks of miscellaneous items under the mineral rich dripping waters and then sell the unusual petrified items to the droves of tourists who come to see this colourful display of nature. ‘Petrified’ items include beer bottles, miniature houses, photo frames and running shoes. Nothing actually turns into stone; rather the mineral rich water covers everything in a thin and fragile yellow crust giving it the appearance of stone. Aside from the Inca Bridge and the few tourist stalls, there’s nothing much else to do there unless you intend to trek to Aconcagua National Park. We had no intention of trekking (there’s a reason we travel in a van) but were happy to park up at Puente del Inca for the evening and leave the border crossing back into Chile (just 15kms away) until the morning. Day Seven The border crossing back into Chile is a completely different building to the Argentine warehouse from which we entered. Our tattered paperwork
went through the same rigmarole and the van was searched twice. I lost my cheese but gained back the hour we’d given up the week before. Back in Santiago we unloaded our van and came to grips with the fact that it would be ‘our’ van no longer. The kind man at the carpark offered to wash the van for an exorbitant fee which we gladly accepted...after all we weren’t finished yet. No sir-eee! If anything having the van for 1 week had given us a taste of what life was like on the road and we loved it so much we wanted more. In the next issue we bring you Part 2...Driving through the Atacama Desert and some of the most spectacular scenery this lonely little planet has to offer. Top tips for a Wicked trip: - Make sure you keep small Chilean and Argentine change on you as there are tolls on both sides of the border. - Always drive with your headlights on. Lock the driver door to remind you that you have to turn the lights off before you get out (yes we got a flat battery...twice!!) - Don’t leave anything of value in the van and keep the inside, particularly the front seats, clear of anything that may be tempting to others. - Take lots of pasta. - Take LOTS of toilet roll and soap...the public facilities in Argentina in restaurants and bars (and even in government buildings) are dismal. - Have fun exploring!! HUGE thanks to Pablo, Javier and the WICKED team for their support and for making the trip hassle free. Pablo gives his customers his mobile number so that you know, if you do run into any problems, there is someone to contact which provides really great piece of mind for gringos driving a Wicked Van! WWW.WICKEDSOUTHAMERICA.COM In the next issue of SELF INDULGED we take the Wicked Van into the beautiful Atacama Desert and San Pedro. The scenery in that part of the world is just stunning. A van, my camera and scenery like that make for a very happy photographer. Don’t miss it!
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Where’s Dave? Every issue we show you a photo of Dave and it’s up to YOU to tell me where in the world he is. Have a look at the photo opposite and email your answer along with your name, full address and contact number to
wheresdave@selfindulged.com
ENTER NOW TO WIN!
All correct answers will be collated and winners will be drawn on the 10th of November 2012. 2 winners will be drawn & notified via email. The prize will be the ‘English’ version of the book. shipped from the Australian Lonely Planet office.
WIN OF OPY
T’S E AC N A PL ELY OOK N O L B CITYCLUE: here mew is so is issue e v a th D ed in r u t a fe
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ISSUE 7 Answer: Dave was on the London Underground. Winners have been notified.
* Image for illustration purposes only. Competition open worldwide however, the guide book will be in English. 28 SELFINDULGED
WN A DR THE V ON F NO TH O 0 ER 1 T EN W!! NO
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A Dear John Letter
Photo: Charles Bridge in the morning. 30 SELFINDULGED
to Prague...
Words: Sandra Herd Photography: Sandra Herd
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Photo: Prague’s famous Charles Bridge deserted at dawn.
Dear Prague, It’s not you. It’s me. I thought we’d get along better.. I didn’t realise how popular you actually were and how that would impact on our relationship. I felt as though I wasn’t seeing you at your best.. maybe if we’d met five or ten years ago things would be different but as it stands, I’m just one in a long list of admirers and I don’t want to fight the constant hoards to get to know you better. There’s no denying how handsome you are. P hysically you’re something else and so beautiful to photograph. The hours we spent together just after dawn were some of my fondest but sadly, during the rest of the day you’re just too busy for me. 32 SELFINDULGED
And then there’s the smoking.. it’s all the time and everywhere. You know how much I hate it. I understand that this is my issue, not yours. I’m just used to enjoying a drink and a meal without being subject to constant clouds of smoke in every bar and restaurant. If it wasn’t for that I’m sure we would’ve shared many, many more Czech beers together. I really hope someday we’ll meet again on better terms, maybe in the dead of Winter? But for now it’s a fond farewell. Thanks for the memories. Until we meet again. Xx SELFINDULGED 33
Photo: Interior of St Jame’s Church
I
n 2004 the Czech Republic joined the European Union and the influx of tourists into its beautiful capital city, Prague, went mad...and it seems has been doing so ever since. Unaccustomed to such growth Prague has many tourist ‘issues’ as a result. For years it has suffered a bad reputation of crooked taxi touts, overpriced rip-offs, pickpockets on the square and dodgy foreign exchange houses who change their frontages as often as they change traveller’s cheques. Unfortunately this bad reputation to some extent is still much deserved - the undisclosed 20% service charge on top of the bill at Black Angels on the main square for the use of ‘condiments’ is enough to leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.
of the old town; the surfeit of souvenir shops and absinthe bottles, the Irish pubs and the themed up bars and restaurants, the real stories and histories of Prague are still around. There are big and small landmarks around the town that have entire histories and stories of their own. Mythical and real...and I love that. It’s these places that, for me, are the ‘real’ Prague.
There’s a statue of a man on Charles Bridge. He is a saint. His halo bears five stars. He is John of Nepomuk (Jan Nepomucký), and is the same man depicted in the bronze relief at the base of the statue...he’s the shiny man being thrown into the water. There are many versions of his story. Some say he was the confessor to the Queen of Bohemia and refused to divulge the secrets of Prague doesn’t have the hustle and bustle of a the confessional to her husband, King Wencescity like London or the crazy chaos of the streets las IV. Not to be confused with the ’Good King’ of New York...it’s a much different crowd. It’s a Wenceslas who ‘once looked out on the feast tourist crowd with very few locals to be seen. In- of Stephen’ who was actually a Duke (and not a deed the locals seem to have abandoned ship, king) of Bohemia, four centuries prior to unlucky certainly in the packed out summer months, in Johnny. The Duke himself was later canonised search of a quieter life. Prague’s ‘crowd’ con- and would never do anything as crass as push a sists of groups of up to 20 people (more in peak fellow ‘saint to be’ off a bridge – See how these season) following a guide with a big red cap or stories have a domino effect? This version tells of yellow umbrella down the same streets. Past the John of Nepomuk being thrown over the bridge Powder tower, through the churches, around the for refusing to divulge the secrets of the confesJewish quarter, a stop for a coffee at a ‘desig- sional to the Queens jealous husband.. nated’ coffee shop before heading back to the clock tower with the much adored 600 year old On the basis of this story, John of Nepomuk is Astronomical Clock. The irony of tourists moan- considered the first Martyr of the Seal of the Coning about the number of tourists and the ‘tour- fessional and, due to the manner of his death, ist traps’ they have created is not lost on me. I a protector from floods - although he must have too joined a free walking tour and became one taken time off in 2002 when the Vltava burst its of the zombie masses, led through the streets by banks and caused mass destruction throughout a young guide working for tips imparting words Bohemia . I wouldn’t take as gospel, but interesting all the same. I actually enjoyed it. What’s more I went Another version is that King Wenceslas IV quarback that afternoon and paid to do the ‘Prague relled with Prague’s Archbishop, who nominated Castle’ tour on the other side of the river where a new abbot without the king’s permission. Since we learned more about the communist era and abbots bought their position with bribes and gave saw the former Gestapo headquarters which their nominators a cut of the church´s collection housed the torture chambers of Hitler’s most money, Wenceslas stood to lose out on the deal. feared henchmen. Between 1939 and 1945 the Seeking revenge but not willing to ‘murder’ an building which is now the current Czech Trade archbishop he set his sights on making John of Office was the most feared in the city. Prague is Nepomuk his scapegoat instead. full of buildings with tales to tell and secrets to A third and similar account is that John of Nepokeep. muk confirmed the archbishop’s candidacy for If you can look past the crowds and inflated prices Abbot of Kladruby against the wishes of his own SELFINDULGED 35
Photo: The 600 year old Astronomical Clock . Check out the pigeon on the left to gauge a sense of scale.
Photo: The plaque depicting John of Nepomuk being thrown of Charles Bridge for treachery. 40 SELFINDULGED
King, Wenceslas IV and was drowned as punishment.
President at Slavia Kavarna;
“Accompanied by Czech President Vaclav Havel Whichever story you choose to believe one thing and his wife, Dagmar, first lady Hillary Rodham is clear. He messed with the wrong King and was Clinton stopped briefly Tuesday in the Slavia Kathrown over the bridge as punishment. Whether varna, Havel’s favorite hangout in his dissident he was still alive when he went over is also a years, for a glass of absinthe” - St. Paul Pioneer point of contention. Today people rub the bronze Press (MN) relief of John for luck....which is kind of ironic. I wouldn’t have thought that he was the luckiest ....Still, it sells to the tourists even though it’s man in 14th century Bohemia. The bronze relief doubtful that any of the bottles on the souvenir to the right of the statue depicts a soldier and a shop shelves contain the real deal. The attracdog. Like Saint John, the dog also shines from tion is that, in many countries, Absinthe, the real years of human contact. People rub the dos be- Absinthe, is banned but for no other reason that cause... well, presumably, people just like pat- it’s alcoholic content. In the Czech Republic it is not. Be careful though...if ting dogs! you do find the real deal And then we move on in a Prague bar you will to the mummified hand know about it. There’s a dangling from a piece chance you might even of rope in the splendid meet the Headless TemSt James’ Church (it’s plar in person. there...I saw it with my If beer is more your thing, own eyes) or the Iron and let’s face it, if you’re Man of Prague, a ‘true in Prague, it probably is, ghost of Prague’ who acyou can’t leave without tually has his own monuvisiting Hotel U Medvidku, ment in the city. Not the only hotel in Prague forgetting the Headless to house its own brewery. Templar who, allegedTheir acclaimed X33 beer ly, hangs out on Liliova is allegedly the strongest Street between midnight beer in the world. and 1 a.m, chances are that Liliova street ...I can now see how these would be a great place Prague tales and legends to escape the masses at emerge! 12.30am...if you dare. Final note: The Taxi Problem And then there’s the legend of the Green Fairy. Originally from Switzerland, it’s unclear when the Prague has a relatively new “Taxi Fair Price” culture of Absinthe invaded the Czech Capital scheme which runs only authorised taxis with but the green spirit is sold everywhere. It origi- the drivers obliged to state the estimated price in nated as a medicinal treatment in the 18th cen- advance. The scheme was introduced to cull the tury, it contained wormwood – a plant with anti- number of complaints by tourists of being ripped septic and other ‘beneficial’ properties. With the off and even threatened by greedy taxi drivers establishment of absinthe distilleries, the drink during the tourist boom. AAA is meant to be a resupposedly exploded in popularity, and in the liable company. If you’re arriving by bus or plane 19th century it was widely used as a recreational into the Czech Republic ask your accommodabeverage. There’s more legend than truth to its tion to arrange a taxi pick up for you.They will tradition in Prague especially since 1998 when know what the costs should be and will use a Hillary Clinton downed a glass with the Czech reputable taxi company. SELFINDULGED 39
Photo: Afternoon light on the back streets of the Old Town
Photo: The twin gothic spires of Tyn Church
Photo: Looking down from the clock tower. On each hour this area gets packed with tourists waiting for the Astronomical Clock to chime
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N R O B U rd andra He S : s d r o W rd andra He Images: S
Photo: Gandan Khiid Monastery - one of the few monasteries in Mongolia to have escaped the communist purges of the 1930’s 46 SELFINDULGED
? B U T
O N
g n i t i s i v f o s n o c & s o r . p l a e v h i t t s t e a F k o m o a l d t a s a e n N e h t g An ho n i r u d r a t a a Ulaan B
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I giggled when I read the tourist brochure from the hotel. It described Mongolia’s Capital, Ulaan Baatar as “a thriving metropolis rivalling some of the great cities of Europe...”
UB
The train ride! The Trans-Mongolian express leaves twice a week from Beijing. Some trains are Chinese, some are Mongolian. After spending many nights on overnight Chinese trains it was a relief to find out our train to UB was actually Really??? Mongolian. This meant that the toilets were That’s not what I was seeing. I was seeing Mongolian...there was soap, a hand towel and old soviet concrete housing blocks, cracked even a ‘loo freshener’ in the toilet bowl. A luxury pavements filled with pot holes and rubble, unheard of on any Chinese train I’ve been on. boarded up buildings and broken windows. But then I was 2 blocks down from Sukhbaatar At the border crossing you have two options... Square (the main city square) where the one you can get off the train and hang out in the glass ‘skyscraper’, the Sailboat building, customs area or you can stay on and watch as proudly shines in the sun. Perhaps a promise the undercarriage is changed out from under you. The tracks in Mongolia are a different of better things to come? gauge to the ones in China as a result, all of the If there was a prize for the ugliest capital city carriages are shunted to a huge workshop where in the world, the big golden trophy would the carriages (while you are still inside them) sadly go to Ulaan Baatar. There’s not much get lifted and then lowered onto the different reason to hang around UB – most people go undercarriage. there by default as a hop-off point for a tour in the Gobi. Its growth in recent years has been On the way into Mongolia we took option one fuelled largely by the mining sector and it is by default. Customs officials took our passports this that is bankrolling further change. You from the train and disappeared for over an can now buy Burberry and Louis Vuitton in hour. We saw people coming back to the train the massive State Department Store but only with goodies so we got off to have a look at the if you have the money – many do, many more shop in the customs area (it was about 1am don’t. The Capital is growing just as rapidly on in the morning). The shop was packed with the outskirts as more and more people leave passengers; we bought some fruit (which locals their nomadic lifestyle in the countryside returning to Mongolia were buying by the kilo), (harsh winters kill livestock...some are just a few cold beers and some snacks. By the time searching for a better life) and flock to the ger we’d queued, paid and got out of there the train districts on the fringes of the city where there had gone and the main doors back out onto the is no planning permission and, as a result, platform were all locked. Mild panic set in as we no access to water or sanitation. Here, life wondered where the hell the train was. We took is tough - especially in winter. But it’s not all a moment to look around a realised many of the bad in UB so I thought I’d put together some other passengers were also in ‘lock down’ and, reasons why you SHOULD visit the Capital off in the corner, the customs officials were still along with reasons why you should possibly processing the hundreds of passports they had get the hell out of there and get on with your collected on the train. It’s the only time ever, and possible anywhere in the world, where I have tour. seen people drinking and smoking openly in an UB OR NOT UB? official restricted customs area. We cracked open a beer and joined the party taking great delight ...That is the question. in watching all of the others come out of the shop and panic at the locked doors and empty platform in the same way that we did. The train had of course gone off to have its undercarriage SELFINDULGED 49
Photo: Hundreds of children playing traditional horse-hair harps at the opening ceromony 16 SELFINDULGED
Map: www.camdenlock.net
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Photo: The ‘Mongol’ warriors’ leaving the stadium
swapped. The next morning when we went to the restaurant car for breakfast I felt like I’d stepped into the twilight zone. It was in the same place as we’d left it (2 carriages down) but was completely different...and bright pink! It took a few seconds for the confusion to ease; they’d obviously swapped that too.
NOT UB The above mentioned train ride is approximately 30 hours (including the border crossing which can take between 4 and 9 hours)...pray that you get the Mongolian train. We got the Chinese train back to Beijing – it’s nowhere near as nice and the toilets are (as in most Chinese trains) a little wiffy to start with and a LOT wiffy at the end!
UB The Naadam Opening Ceremony. Note here that I say the ‘opening ceremony’ and not the Naadam festival itself which I believe is much more enjoyable if you go out to a local village to see the games. You can get up close and personal at the smaller Naadams, especially for the wrestling which is nearly impossible to see from the stands of the massive stadium in UB. The spectacle of the opening ceremony is impressive...not ‘Olympic Ceremony’ impressive but impressive all the same...and unusual. The costumes are stunning. There were the usual displays of dancers and the official welcoming etc... but when thousands of Mongol warriors charged on to the field, screaming their war cries in mock battle, the hairs on my arms and the back of my next stood up...now that was impressive.
NOT UB
a slash and grab where a lady had her camera slashed out of her jacket pocket with a switch blade. In the evening of the first day many of the Mongolian men were drunk. Drunken Mongolian men are not nice. On day two of Naadam the streets of UB were largely deserted except for drunks and derelicts who were prevalent along the main street, Peace Avenue – a misnomer during Naadam. We saw one girl have her bag snatched in broad daylight. Luckily a rather rotund foreigner also saw it and managed to jump on the bandit and sit on him until the bag was returned. There was no consequence. The thief just skulked off down the street. It turned out the rotund hero was a local business owner selling ‘sustainable souvenirs’ opposite Cafe Amsterdam. We bought a fluffy bactrian camel (2 humps!) from him and he told us that the kids on the street are a real problem - he sees things like this on the street all the time but especially at this time of year. Not more than five minutes later we saw two more young men eyeing up another girl’s bag. Dave yelled out to her as a warning and one of the men picked up a wooden stake and started marching towards us with it. Fortunately Dave’s bark is very loud so he didn’t have to use his bite and the two young men ran off down the street. Be very careful in the city during Naadam. Big crowds + lots of tourists with cameras and wallets = payday for thieves.
UB The Mongolians. The colour and the pageantry. During Naadam both young and old come out in their finest threads and look spectacular. Robed men on horseback and beautiful women wearing elaborate head-dresses. On the last day of Naadam we witnessed a ‘fashion’ parade in the main square. Every region of Mongolia was represented in their traditional dress - the garments and headpieces were wonderful. For me it was a photographic treat that I’m glad I didn’t miss.
The Naadam Festival. Confused? Let me explain. Although being in UB during Naadam is possibly one of the best times to be there (let’s face it there’s not much else going on in the city) it’s also quite possibly one of the most dangerous. We met four people who’d been robbed on the The taxi drivers. They are hoodlums and shysters. street during the 3 day festival. One of these was Well, maybe not all of them but the ones we met.
NOT UB
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Photo: The real streets of UB. Away from the main square the streets are rough and in dis-repair
Photo: One of the competing archers. Wrestling, Archery & Horse Racing make up the games.
UB is a fairly small city to get around but there are times when you do need a taxi. Be it not wanting to walk down a dodgy side street in the dark or maybe you’re just sick of walking through mud and crap in the road. A taxi ride anywhere within a 5km radius of the main square should not cost more than 2000 tugrik. We were going just 2 blocks from our accommodation to the State Department, we knew the way and it wasn’t far. Our taxi driver took us the long way round and even then it only took about 6minutes...in the space of those 6 minutes his ‘official (but faster than lightning) meter’ had clocked up a massive 7000 tugrik. We disputed the charge. He got mad. We threw 2000 tugrik onto the front seat and went upstairs to Cafe Amsterdam. He got back in his cab and sat there for about half an hour waiting for us to come out. He could wait all day - I had coffee and Wi-Fi, I was going nowhere! He eventually drove off. Luckily we’d been kind of expecting this and had 2000 tugrik in our hands at the ready. Agree a price before you get in and have small notes at the ready... the chances of getting the correct change back if you have a rogue driver are slim.
UB The terrible taxi drivers are balanced out karmically by the friendly locals of UB. Now I can’t ascertain if this was a Naadam weekend ‘one off’ or if this is how just how the locals roll... but here’s what happened. Two days in a row when we wanted a taxi back to our room we had local people in their private cars stop and offer to take us. The first time it was a middle aged lady who’d been out shopping and had all of her goodies on the front seat. She didn’t ask for any money but we gave her the 2000 tugrik it would have cost us anyway. The second day it was a young couple...they did state their price, (the fair amount of 2000) when they picked us up which was fine with us. They earned some extra cash and we had a stress free ride, knowing we weren’t going to be ripped off. Of course, on the downside they could’ve driven us off to some dark corner of the city and killed us. Thankfully they delivered us with a big smile and a handshake.
NOT UB Drivers. I read in the Lonely Planet that when you cross the street in UB the drivers actually speed up towards you. Unbelievably, this is actually true!
UB Dining out. Believe it or not there are some great places around the city centre to eat cheaply and well whilst sinking one or two glasses of ‘Chinggis’, the local beer. We found several during our short stay but I’d definitely recommend a few... City Restaurant - right opposite and overlooking the main square on the Corners of Chinggis and Peace Avenues. Head upstairs to the balcony and watch the world go by with a cold Chinggis in one hand and hot meat skewer from the downstairs bbq in the other. Cafe Amsterdam - great hub to meet other travellers, GREAT coffee (something you will appreciate especially if you caught the train from China) steady and reliable Wi-Fi, real bacon – need I say more? Delhi Darbar - A wonderful relief if you’ve just come back from a 5 day tour in the middle of the Gobi or grasslands. We ate there twice, before and after our tour and took the others from our tour with us the second time. I think we were so relieved to eat some spice we may have offered to pay for everyone eek! The vindaloo is spectacular, just don’t over order. The dishes look small but they are very rich and pack a punch...especially if you’ve just come off a diet of boiled meat and potatoes. Staff are all dressed in shirts and waistcoats...it’s not the cheapest but it is definitely tugrik well spent. (Upstairs on Tserendorj St which is opposite the un-missable State Department Store)
NOT UB The Tugrik. Even as I write this I’m looking at the currency app on my phone to pull up a current exchange rate. The tugrik isn’t even searchable SELFINDULGED 57
on my app...and I’ll tell you why. These notes do NOT exist anywhere outside of Mongolia. Get RID of them DO NOT bring them home thinking you can exchange them later. You can’t. I tried every bank in the financial heart of London and no one would go near them. It’s like handing them the black spot...you have been warned.
UB The little green man on the traffic lights on the main square... he rides a horse! So does the little red ‘stop’ man. Simple things amuse me. So there you have it.
6 UB’s and 5 nOT UB’s..but don’t just take my word for it.
UB
the judge!
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PHOTO ESSAY
AREQUIPA & Santa Catalina Convent: “A city within a city” Arequipa is a sparkling city under the shadow of El Misti, a 5822m high, snow-capped volcano. As Peru’s second biggest city Arequipa can be frenetic but fun. It took a while for me to warm to this town but when I discovered the wonderful eateries (Zigzag Restaurant in particular) and the hidden architecture, I saw it in a whole new light. It’s also the drop off point for those wishing to trek in the Colca Canyon...the worlds ‘deepest’ canyon, although the walls are not as steep as the Grand Canyon and in my eyes, the Grand Canyon still wins hands down for ‘wow factor’. The TAXI warning: According to Lonely Planet, Arequipa has a big problem with tourists being robbed in Taxis. Tourists hail a tico (a match-box sized yellow cab which look deceptively cute) on the street and are taken to a deserted neighbourhood, ‘kidnapped’ and held until they part with their cash and/or ATM cards and whatever other goodies they have on their person. Allegedly, thieves even hire the official looking ticos soley to thieve from tourists. It is best to use only ‘official’ cabs. We found that most restaurants in an evening will call a reliable taxi company for you to get you back to your hotel.
Photo: The beautiful frontage to San Agustin Church iin Arequipa. The elaborate design is carved out of Sillar, the sparkling volcanic rock that give Arequipa the nickname ‘The White City’ 60 SELFINDULGED
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Walkway around Plaza de Armas
Sillar engravings on the city buildings
The Cathedral at night
Zigzag restaurant: Llama, beef & pork on a sizzling volcanic stone.
The colourful courtyards of Santa Catalina Convent. Founded in 1579, women from diverse social backgrounds entered the convent to serve as cloistered nuns, never again to return to their families. The nuns constructed private cells within the convent where they could live isolated lives, sheltering them from the surrounding city. Originally founded by a wealthy widow, rumour has it that, for the first 300 years, the nuns who had been recruited from wealthy Spanish families lived a hedonistic lifestyle...who knows what went on behind the closed doors of this mysterious convent. The complex first opened its doors to the public in 1970.
Colca Canyon Condor Lookout. 66 SELFINDULGED
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gizmos, gadgets & good stuff! This 81.9 x 58.2 cm world map is based on the idea of the scratch card so you just scratch off the places you’ve been and bright colours will be revealed underneath. Scratch Map also includes facts about certain countries and cities. Put it on your wall and scratch your way around the world! www.chartandmapshop.com.au
Anyone who has ever stayed in a hostel dorm room should buy one of these! This funky looking armband is a watch with an in-built vibration alarm so that the only person being woken up is you. The display lights up when you tap the ‘screen’ and the manufacturer’s claim it is waterproof down to 100m. The only downside is the battery life...3 to 4 days before a USB top up is neccessay and...at a cost of $250, it may be out of the backpackers budget. www.mutewatch.com
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I must admit I am dying to give this CAPTURE Camera Clip System a try. I’ve included it here because I think it’s a great idea...especially if, like me, you always have your DSLR with you when you’re out and about. Would be great for shooting music festivals too! The manufacturers reckon it ‘works with any strap or belt. hasquick release access, is small and ultra-light and has a lifetime guarantee. Sounds like it’s worth some serious consideration! www.peakdesignltd.com
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PARTINGSHOTS
ISO 100 ~ f6.3 ~ 200mm lens ~ 1/640 exp.
S
WHAT - WHERE - WHEN - WHY WHAT The Annual Naadam Festival: Wrestling. WHERE Outer Mongolia. UB and local surrounding villages. WHEN Every year between the 11th and 13h of July as a National holiday. The dates in regional areas can be a week either side of the main UB festival. WHY Because it’s a real taste of Mongolian culture that can only be experienced once a year...if you have plans to visit Mongolia I’d recommend timing your visit to coincide with Naadam. The festival atmosphere is in the air and the locals turn up in their best attire great for photos! The village festivals allow for close access but the official opening ceremony in UB is a sight to behold!
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PARTINGSHOTS
ISO 100 ~ f16 ~ 235mm lens ~ 15 second exposure
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WHAT - WHERE - WHEN - WHY WHAT
The city of La Paz. Capital of Bolivia
WHERE
This view is from Mirador Killi Killi (from Avenida Sucre take Avenida La Bandera and then walk straight up, the mirador is on the right side). You can get the best view of La Paz from here. There’s no entrance fee when you arrive. You can either walk or catch a taxi (approx. 10 Bolivianos) For the equivalent of AUD$1.40 I recommend the taxi.Trust me - the walk up the hillside at altitude is a killer!
WHEN
Whenever! The mirador is a free lookout for everyone. Sunset is particularly spectacular but be careful /aware of walking back down in the dark....best not to be by yourself for safety reasons as the path down goes through some back alleys.
WHY
Because it’s a spectacular and unusual city and you’re doing yourself a dis-service if you leave La Paz without visiting the Mirador...especially at sunset. SELFINDULGED 75
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“It’s a dangerous business...going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.” - Bilbo Baggins (Lord of the Rings)