I think it’s fairly common knowledge that the Amazon River and the surrounding drainage basin are both massive. Incomprehensibly so. Let me start with a few quick facts:

• 40% of the entire continent of South America drains into the Amazon Basin
• The river, at its narrowest, is 1.6KM (1 mile) wide
• The flow of the Amazon is greater than the next 7 largest rivers COMBINED
• For perspective on the last fact, by my math (may be flawed) the Amazon could fill Lake Michigan in 17 seconds!
• 1/3 of all animal species on the face of the planet are found in the Amazon Basin
• The Amazon accounts for 20% of the world’s river flow

These facts do little to reveal the true scope of the Amazon and its drainage basin. I am quite simply, awestruck, after realizing that I was in constant motion for 4 days and only saw a sliver of this massive ecosystem.

The journey WAS the destination

I feel quite fortunate that this is my life. Imagine, sitting around the house one day and simply deciding to go! With no real plan we left the next Tuesday. Transport in Peru can be somewhat challenging, long bus rides cover vast distances at a fairly slow pace. Bus rides are quite commonly nine hours at a minimum. We decided that we would get a bus from Trujillo to Chacapoyas and from there make our way to Tarapoto and finally Yurimaquas where we would arrange passage on the river to Iquitos. It ended up working out surprisingly well.

15 hours on a bus got us to our first stop. Chachapoyas turned out to be an incredible place with many natural wonders and archaeological sites on offer. The area is best known for the ancient ruins of Kuelap, but we opted instead to visit the Sarcophagi of Karajía(click to embiggen).

We also did a bit of spelunking ‘ghetto style’ where our guide was equipped with a car battery in a backpack which was connected to a homemade lamp with a couple strands of discarded baling wire.

From Chachapoyas we backtracked a little bit to the crossroads town of Pedro Ruiz to catch a bus onward to Tarapoto. At the bus terminal, a lady had called the police to report the theft of her cell phone. She was pointing fingers, making accusations and demanded that the police do something. Eventually they gave in and started searching all of the males for the cell phone. As people were done being searched and boarded the bus, someone came back from the bus with her cell phone that they had found in her seat. This incident set the tone for the next eight hours on the bus.

We overnighted in Tarapoto and the next morning arranged transport to Yurimaguas. We knew that the boat trips between Yurimaguas and Iquitos are fairly spartan, so we knew that we would need to be gathering supplies. We had originally planned on spending the night in Yurimaguas so that we would have time to procure everything we would need (hammocks, rain gear, eating utensils, water and wine) but that proved to be unnecessary as out moto-taxi driver was more than willing to earn a commission by taking us to a local outfitter. The few soles extra that we spent by going with him was well worth it!

Everything that we had read indicated that this trip would likely take three to five days, so with our supplies purchased and passage booked we settled in for the cruise. We left Yurimaguas at sunset and hadn’t even pulled out of port yet before our first river dolphin sighting.

We ended up only taking two days to get to Iquitos, but it was a very interesting two days with many stops made to load and unload cargo at remote Amazonian villages along the river. By mid-morning on the second day we had made it to the confluence of the rivers Marañón and Ucayali which come together to officially start the Amazon. From there it was only a few hours to Iquitos.

The largest city in the world inaccessible by road

Iquitos turned out to be very interesting. It’s quite a scene, to say the least. We were surprised by the expat community there with an English language newspaper! We met a very interesting character who happened to be the proprietor of a floating bar/restaurant/hostel. I visited the shantytown of Belen, and we HAD to visit Casa Fitzcarralldo (which turned out to be somewhat disappointing). All in all a very rewarding trip!

Support local business owners!

Iquitos is fairly heavily touristed. One thing that has always bothered me about places that get a lot of tourist traffic is the number of foreign business that spring up to cater to these tourists. Travel agencies, booking offices, tour companies, hotels and restaurants are nearly all foreign owned so the locals end up benefiting very little. Whenever possible, I prefer to support locals who are often freelancers. While in Iquitos, we happened to meet a jungle guide from a nearby village. He spoke very good English and was quite friendly and comes highly recommended by past clients. His name is Pedro, but he’s known as “Wolf”. If you ever need a jungle guide in Iquitos, and especially if you don’t want to take some pre-packaged tour, you should get in contact with Pedro. He can be reached by email at pedro_wildlife AT hotmail DOT com or on facebook (Pedro Peña) in Iquitos, Peru. Seriously, this guy can set you up with whatever, whether it’s an ayahuasca ceremony, hallucenogenic toad licking or remote wildlife viewing, he’s your guy.

And now, the photos:

My first time traveling to Peru could have easily been my last. My first impression of Peru was the beachside resort village of Mancora. Mancora embodies everything that is horrible about over-touristed travel destinations, including the worst hostel ever!

Mancora is well located on the coast of northern Peru. The beach is actually quite nice, has great surf and predictable afternoon breezes that

photo: Theodore Scott on flickr

So, why do I think Mancora is so horrible, and what about this hideous hostel experience? First, the beach in Mancora isn’t open and accessible without going through either a hotel or a restaurant, it’s like trying to get out of a casino.

And the hostel…so, here’s the deal: I had made the mistake of booking a Loki hostel ahead of my arrival in Mancora. Booking ahead meant that the money was already spent…always a risk, I know, but the pictures looked nice, so I went for it. Loki hostels are a chain operating in Bolivia and Peru. They’re foreign owned, operate in a handful of already over-touristed destinations and add to the ugliness of tourism.

Upon checking in, I was immediately adorned with a wrist band that I would need to get in and out of the gate. Now, I can understand that maybe management thinks that this practice is in my best interest – you know, keeping the “bad” people out, but in reality, the wrist bands are about branding for Loki. This presents two problems. 1) I can be immediately identified by thieves and other ne’er do wells as a patron of Loki and marked as someone who must be an absolute sucker. 2) I’m forced now to be a walking advertisement for what amounts to be a corporate franchise. A bit ironic, methinks.

So, having been marked with the Loki brand, I was now free to roam the dusty streets of Mancora. I like beer. I like to drink beer poolside. Loki has a pool but their beer selection is limited and the prices are hyper-inflated. I did what any logical person would do and purchased some beer at the bodega outside the gate. I wasn’t allowed to take the beer back inside the hallowed Loki grounds.

The folks at Loki claim:

We are a group of backpackers
who met in Lima, Peru and over a
number of nights out decided to build
a hostel

I wonder if they, as a “group of backpackers” would like to be treated the way they treat their customers?

While traveling the globe and relating my stories to people unfamiliar with travel, some form of this question almost always comes up. Aren’t you scared? Won’t you get robbed?

It’s a common travel question and I certainly understand why people ask it, but at the same time, it’s doesn’t seem very well thought out to me. Seriously, I was traveling in New Zealand and was asked this question by a local: “Aren’t you scared?” In New Zealand of all places? I was stymied.

Where Does This Mentality Come From?

I can’t say for sure, but I think a few different factors feed in to the thinking that travel is somehow inherently dangerous.

• Media Sensationalism

Imagine if the mainstream media reported on every traveler who didn’t get mugged or robbed. That wouldn’t make for very good headlines, but the fact is, plenty of people travel the world without incident and the incidents we hear are few and far between when compared to the shear number of people who travel.

• State Department Warnings

Nobody reports their experiences with not getting robbed, mugged or scammed to their embassy. If nothing awful happens to a traveler, the embassy probably doesn’t even know they exist. State Department advisories and warnings have their place, and I’ll get to that later.

• Unfamiliarity

There’s a good chance that you could be robbed, mugged or scammed while in your home country or hometown. But it probably doesn’t happen because you know how things work there. You know which areas to avoid. You understand what situations to avoid. You hang out with familiar people who you know and trust.

Are You Saying Travel is Completely Safe Then?

No, of course not. There are many factors that make a place more or less dangerous than another. Local laws and law enforcement (or the lack of) will shape what kinds of crime exist and what sort of risks criminals will take. For instance, in Romania, violent crime is dealt with very harshly, while pick-pocketing is not, so of course, pickpocketing is very common but in the case of Romania, you’re not going to be targeted simply because you are a traveler. Criminals there are equal opportunists.

Local economics also play a huge role in the types of crimes and scams that might be common in the area. If people are poor, hungry, desperate and have no hope of earning an honest living they may very well resort to scams or crime. It isn’t personal but as a traveler, you could be targeted specifically because you are seen to have more.

All of that said, let’s not lose sight of the one common denominator here: People. People, no matter where you go in the world, want to live a peaceful existence. They want to raise their families. They want the same basic things that you or I want. People aren’t evil by nature, no matter where they live.

How to Minimize Your Risk

I’ve been to some dodgy places. Kashmir comes to mind. Everybody there had a gun but me. I’ve been in parts of Mexico at the beginning of an uprising. I’ve been in some extremely safe places that are relatively crime-free. In Taiwan, for example, I once left my iPhone in a taxi cab. I actually got it back. I’m not sure that would have happened anywhere else in the world. I’ve only ever had something stolen once, and while that was a bummer, I think that considering the amount of time I’ve put in traveling, it’s pretty good odds.

Here are some handy tips for minimizing your risk:
• Common Sense

I know what “they” say. Common sense ain’t so common and that is evidenced by the fact that many people become victims by taking risks that they shouldn’t have.

1. Moderation in Drinking

The temptation to get caught up in having a good time with fellow travelers is strong. Go ahead, have a good time but don’t overdo it. You should know your own limits and you should stick to them. If you’re incapacitated by drinking your judgement will become diminished, your reaction time will be slowed. You will become more likely to make mistakes.

2. Avoid areas that aren’t well lit.

Especially if you’re in an unfamiliar area.

3. Try not to be alone

I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t travel solo, but if you are alone, try to stick to areas where there are other people.

4. Be aware

I call this “paying attention to my spidey-senses”. Be vigilant, pay attention to your surroundings. Listen to your own intuition, and if something doesn’t feel right, get out.

5. Know the risks

Having knowledge of what kinds of crimes are common in the area where you are traveling will help you spot a scam or a dangerous situation. That’s where State Department travel information comes in handy. Some scams or diversion tactics have the same elements worldwide, some are more regional or local. Know what you’re likely to encounter so that you can recognize it for what it is early.

So my answer to “Isn’t it dangerous?” is no, not really, at least not so much that I’m going to let that notion keep me from exploring the world around me.

Located in northern Peru near the city of Trujillo is the ancient temple of Huaca de la Luna.  Together with the Huaca del Sol the temples make up the Huacas de Moche named for the Moche people who once dominated the area.  The site was occupied between about 800 A.D. and 500 A.D.  Huaca de la Luna served primarily as the a ceremonial and religous temple while the Huaca del Sol was dedicated to administrative and governmental purposes.  Much evidence of human sacrifice has been discovered on the site including skeletal remains that have been analyzed as well as artwork commemorating the condemned.

There is a wonderful museum at the site that has a great collection of Moche pottery that has been excavated at the site.

We hired a guide at our favorite coffee shop in Huanchaco, Peru and took a tour.  The tour included a visit to a museum in Trujillo that gave a good point of reference of both the topographical layout of the major valleys in Peru and the chronology of the various empires that have dominated Peru throughout ancient history.  Our guide provided not only great knowledge of the ancient people of Peru, but also never-ending entertainment such as when he told us the story of taking San Pedro cactus (mescaline) while he was at the Nazca Lines watching the stars.  We also learned that marigold is fed to chickens to make their eggs have yolks that are more yellow.  A very informative tour to be sure.

The pictures below do very little justice to the Huaca de la Luna or the Huaca del Sol.  This is a site that needs to be seen in order to really grasp its magnitude and splendor.

Or is it?

I’m referring, of course, to my nomadic lifestyle and how it is perceived by people who have chosen to toe the line and work their 9 to 5 in the pursuit of the 2.5 children, white picket fence, keeping up with the Jones’ life. As often happens when I’m back in the States, or even abroad and meet people who lead what is perceived as a ‘normal’ life. I’m pretty happy to talk about how I live and the ‘oohhhs and ahhhs’ that I get encourage me to open up and probably glorify and romanticize my life’s path.

As an example, during my most recent stopover in the U.S. while traveling from Asia to South America, I met a young lady who was genuinely full of admiration and envy when I explained how I live. During the course of the conversation, she remarked that she would like to live like this, to do what I do. To me, it seems easy. To most people, it seems impossible. “How do you afford it?” “Won’t scary brown people eat your children if you leave the safety and security of the United States?” “I don’t speak the language”. All of these questions and concerns (and more) come up when, for a fleeting moment, people are caught up in the romance of world travel and living abroad and working overseas.

You Probably Can’t Have it Both Ways

I’m an American, and as such, I’m probably culturally predisposed to the never-ending pursuit of material things. I’m very detached from my food source and I take a great many things for granted such as safe drinking water and trash removal. During my youth, I grew accustomed to the American lifestyle and that lifestyle is my comfort zone. I’m reluctant to step outside of it. There’s a certain feeling of security that comes with a full-time job and being amongst people who dress the same way that I do and speak the same language that I do. This is where the divide happens. This is the basis for why more Americans don’t chose to live the way I do. I’ll certainly admit that for every bit of envy that people have for my life, I envy theirs equally. Sometimes I yearn for the stability that comes with living in a 3-bedroom ranch style house in the suburbs. A washer and dryer. 64 channels of shit on my T.V. Going from point A to point B in my vehicle on my schedule. Resolving conflicts and making deals in my native language. Being able to flush toilet paper in the toilet. So, while the young lady certainly seemed excited and was ready to buy an airplane ticket to some far-flung, exotic destination, she probably won’t, and I can certainly understand why not.

I hold a firm belief that we, as humans, are nothing if not a sum of our experiences, so all of these experiences enrich who I am, but they are EXHAUSTING! These experiences are also very humbling. For all that I think I know how to do, if, for example, I buy a chicken at the local mercado, I don’t know how to butcher a chicken. It’s not pre-packaged for me in Styrofoam and plastic wrap. I could very well starve to death, not for a lack of food, but for a lack of knowledge.

Consider this: For me, a cup of espresso means carrying a 20-Liter (5 gallon) bottle of water on my back for a half-mile. 40-minutes round-trip on an overcrowded death-trap of a bus to buy coffee. A negotiation in a language I don’t understand very well to arrive at a quantity of coffee, a price for the quantity and an acceptable grind of the beans for my purposes. Hoping that the electricity is on when I try to make the coffee, another negotiation for the removal of any waste that is generated by the making and consumption of coffee – I drink a lot of coffee, but when I consider how much time and effort is invested, perhaps I should just learn to deal with the caffeine withdrawals instead. And that’s just a cup of coffee. That doesn’t begin to address the myriad other tasks that will come up.

Whether to live a vagabonding lifestyle or to stick more to a traditional one is a choice. I feel fortunate that I know what both are like, and for now, I plan on continuing to buck tradition and collect more experiences.