Chillin in downtown Lima

After the ordeal of trying to move around southern Peru during nationwide strikes, it was a welcome change to relax in the rich tourist-district of Mira Flores in Lima, the countries capital. Despite the city´s reputation as one of the more dangerous places for foreigners (due to high street crime and regular muggings from within ´unofficial´ taxis), Mira Flores proved very safe, with regular 24hr security staff patrolling the lively restaurant, bar and club scenes.

A small hostel chain known as "LOKI Backpackers" had become a favourite for me in Peru, due to their reputation for social/party atmospheres including in-house bars, TV/DVD rooms, free Internet access, reliable hot showers (a luxury here) and comfortable, clean dormitory beds with, wait for it ... ´duvets´ :)

It was easy to make friends here and soon I was swapping stories with others who had also been trapped in Peru´s recent road blockades. Whilst certainly taking time-out to visit Lima´s famed ´architecturally beautiful´ city centre, including it´s small pressed-in Chinatown and some recommended museums, I also decided to spend time sleeping in (at last), organising ripped clothing to be cheaply repaired (Roy had destroyed 2 of my pants), catching up on the latest north American blockbuster films ´in English´ and updating this time-demanding blog you´ve hopefully been reading!

Certainly, being constantly on the move, living out of a backpack and almost daily ´safety, budget and direction´ related decision-making can make independent travel quite tiring at times, yet here in Lima I finally had the energy to join others in checking out the local vibrant night life. Obviously I expected us ´rich white foreigners´ to hold unnatural attention in bars and clubs, yet I decided that most Peruvians were genuinely friendly, extraverted and easy to get smiles or giggles out of via my basic Spanish skills and exaggerated body language gestures ( a nice change from the droopy faces directed to most tourists by the poorer people in Bolivia ).

After a little over a week I left Lima for adventures in the north, including the famed "Cordillera Blanca" mountain range and it´s endless hiking, multi-day trekking and high-altitude alpine mountaineering opportunities.

Passing blockades in Peru

With months running out yet so much left to explore, I made a new mission to get back into Peru quickly with the intention to travel north to the famed ´Cordillera Blanca´. Given such a journey would take days of butt-numbing bus rides from La'Paz through Cusco to Lima, I decided to book a cheap domestic flight from Juliaca near Puno, straight for the nation's capital on Friday, July 13.

I'm not superstitious, however did roll my eyes when things got complicated after reaching La'Paz to be informed that most major roads in southern Peru had been blocked for days. Apparently thousands of locals were supporting a protest against new government policy aimed to radically improve 'teacher quality' across the country, hence my original plan to reach Juliaca the following day (located just hours inside the Peruvian border) was going to get much more complicated.

In addition my tourist VISA was running out so I at least had to try crossing into Peru sooner rather than later, hence I travelled on Thursday 12th to Copacabana on Lake Titicaca (which I had visited 2 mths prior with Nic) to get ´that much closer´ to the border. Luckily, early on Friday July 13 with little over half a day till my flight, word spread that the strike would be alleviated for a few hours in the morning, so I took the window of opportunity to attempt crossing into Peru and beelining for Puno.

The crossing went as smoothly as expected under such circumstances (ie. long queueing at immigration with hundreds of others before being lumped onto a new bus on the other side of the border which HAD NOT received my main backpack from the old bus until it was mentioned), yet within an hour of travelling alongside pretty Lake Titicaca we were halted by masses of dirt mounds, shouting locals and banked up traffic.

Naturally we poured out of our bus to check out the commotion before being promptly told by the driver that we wouldn't be going any further. Having crossed the border 'early' did have it's advantages though, in that we could better see what was going on and I noticed an open, empty ambulance parked along the roadside. Suggesting to Nathaniel (my latest travel buddy) that perhaps we could get more helpful information from the medics, we approached with our basic Spanish skills to learn that they were also heading to Puno and were negotiating a humanitarian right-of-passage; despite no sign of an injured patient inside. I quickly flashed some US dollars and asked if we could stowaway in the back of the ambulance to pass through and amazingly we were soon grabbing our backpacks and indiscreetly getting into the main cabin to spend the following few hours on-route to Puno.

Once arriving in Puno, we made our way to the main bus terminal where I hooked up with other travellers to journey by taxi straight to Juliaca airport. At this point I still remained ´positively pessimistic´ about things and couldn't help rolling my eyes when our taxi was forced to further wind through more barricaded streets trying to get through town. Upon arrival at the airport we noticed many soldiers sitting on a nearby fence with their accompaniment of semi-automatic weapons hanging up beside in disorganised fashion. Quickly we were informed that a separate strike in Juliaca was in place AND that the airport would be closed for a further 3 days hence I was going to miss my flight anyway.

We headed towards the nearest "Star Peru" offices to discuss our options, and were told that the airport might re-open the next day. At least they assured me that my ticket would be transferred to a later day's flight, however from a tourism standpoint Juliaca is a dead zone, so I considered busing to either Cusco or Arequipa to fly out from there instead. Flights from Cusco to Lima were booked out for days so I bussed to Arequipa in the late afternoon, realising that the blockades would be back in full force the next day.

The strike seemed for a fair enough cause, however I couldn't quite understand how so many locals had got behind a protest movement with such drastic plans in literally assisting to 'undevelop' their own country's trade and tourism infrastructure. In the end THEY as taxpayers would end up paying for the problems caused, but I guess that 'locals seeing the big picture beyond today' is one of the challengers South American countries still face in trying to progress.

By 11pm that night, our bus to Arequipa was swerving masses of large rocks scattered all over the road before halting at an electricity plant and emptying it's passengers into the freezing cold street with no further transport options. Fortunately at 1am a few private cars drove past and after being chased by a mob of stranded passengers (including me), they stopped to offer lifts to Arequipa at extortionist rates per head. So with 7 other people I bundled into the boot of a station wagon, unwittingly realising that my fate was to spend the next 3 hrs cramped inside as we slowly navigated through a fresh blockade of scattered rocks, dirt mounds, fires and local gangs (including uniformed police) carrying stones for launching at any vehicles attempting to pass without permission.

Finally at 4am on Friday July 14, I made it to central Arequipa feeling much like I´d had escaped an upcoming war zone, whereby I caught a few hours sleep before heading to the airport to finally fly to Lima that afternoon *whew*

Leaving "Inti Yara Wassi"

My final weeks at "Inti Yara Wassi" were certainly less grueling and definitely more fun; a reminder that I was still a holidaying traveller despite not having my first ´official´ day off work until day 24.

I had less blisters, bruises and bite marks after my assigned puma "Roy" finally grew accustomed to my company and it was satisfying to at last be given something back from him (ie. the occasional purr and meow at my approach, playful nudging with his head when passing by or social grooming my arms with his abrasive tongue during his short cat-naps).

I will certainly never forget when the puma lay his head in my lap for a snooze and a tickle one day, and I finally understood why volunteers working with the big cats were asked to stay a month minimum. In fact, day by day Roy´s playful personality became ever clearer and I started to feel increasingly sorry for this poor majestic animal whom would never be released into the wild after his domesticated human upbringing; doomed to walk the same trails daily and loose many of the carers he would grow attached too along the way. Despite being generally solitary hunters in the wild, such big cats living in captivity ´do´ suffer from separation anxiety when loosing their closer human playmates, but in my case 1 month would fortunately not be enough for this to happen.

Despite previously flopping into bed early for long nights of much needed rest, I eventually had more energy to attend the all too often social gatherings at the reserves affiliated hostels in nearby Villa Tunari. Daily stories of animal attacks or amusing incidences circulated around all areas of the park, providing constant topics of conversation amongst new and experienced volunteers alike, so it was easy to make good friends whilst staying here (ie. we bonded in our shared pain :)

I also took the opportunity during Roy´s jungle cat-naps to improve my phrasebook Spanish-speaking skills with the help of my fellow workmates Sam and Ben; of which the latter being Swiss was a language master compared to meek olé me. "Trebacha con Roy es mui duro pour´que el es mui feurte e rapido". (I probably spelt a few words wrong there).

Finally, before saying goodbye to continue my travels I visited other areas of the park to snap up some great photos of monkeys, birds, coatis and the hyperactive tyras, which is a "must have" activity for most before leaving. Unfortunately for the park´s coordinators, an obnoxious 6ft tall Israeli volunteer decided to enter restricted ´quarantine areas´ for sustained periods of time to harass the animals for his photos and consequently after an additional incident of abuse towards one of the older-Bolivian staff, was escorted by local police off the premises onto the first available bus out of there. Fortunately our photography efforts were in different directions that day, else I may have been involved for just being in his proximity with a camera too.*whew*

Walking a mountain puma

There really is nothing like the experience of independent travel, what with the freedom to visit new destinations on a whim, sample new cultures and foods, soak up new life experiences with ample time AND meet the most interesting people along the way. I certainly never expected to be living in the heart of Bolivia for a month, let alone assigned to the daily care of a highly-active mountain puma, but I guess that´s how things go when you keep things flexible.

Having worked with "Roy" for 3 weeks now, I´m convinced that walking a puma has to be one of the craziest jobs in existence. Physically demanding to the point of insanity, the work is less "walking" and more running, scrambling, stumbling and sliding over steep, often wet slopes in humid Amazonian jungle with your cat on a long leash for 5-6 hours a day. Possibly the trail´s only saving grace is the ability to clip Roy´s lead onto occasional ´runners´, which comprise of taught cables strung from trees down into the steepest ravines; saving his carers all but guaranteed broken bones if trying to keep up as the puma bounds down in seconds with unbelievable finesse, balance and speed.

Each cat in the reserve has their own back-story which almost certainly influences how they behave towards people in their older years and although Roy´s past was less sad than others (ie. he wasnt kept in a small cage until his legs became buckled), he was unfortunately encouraged to jump up, high and aggressively when young. Nicknamed "the angel of death" by park coordinators, its equally ´mentally exhausting´ trying to stay one step ahead of his single-minded, often mischievous thinking and potential actions thereafter involving the trademark ´playful but hard´ attacks with jaws, occasionally claws and all 55kgs of weight.

Such regular ´tests of strength´ by males in their prime are supposedly a normal behaviour trait though, sometimes occurring multiple times daily for weeks on end until the cat begins to accept your self-assured dominance. From the first day Roy was testing me, opening his mouth wide as he walked passed my legs or occasionally pouncing when he thought I wasn´t looking and although I initially had some success in avoiding to back away, making direct eye contact or raising my voice, he did not let up for the first 10 days. It probably didn´t help when early on, he managed to bring me down with his large paws and stare directly into my eyes before the final pounce, sending me barrel rolling 5 meters down a steep slope. Essentially not controlling the animal within seconds by reaching down past the mouth to the carabena hanging off his collar, causes more agressive, excitable attacks with stronger bites and deeper scratches, many of which I´m still nursing from weeks ago.

Still, once overcoming the fear of being tested by a potential man-killer and realising most of it is simply territorial play, allows the appreciation and enjoyment in getting to know one of nature´s most amazing predators intimately and although it was a hard journey for my body (and clothes) to take in getting used to such abuse, the experience is definitely well worth it. Each day Roy´s personality slowly reveals that he´s just an overgrown pussycat with a justified superiority complex but he´s also been my most effective personal trainer to date for sure :)

Lastly, I guess my original knee injury has AT LAST been healed, because although I took things more gingerly initially, it´s held up well over the past few weeks including many recent wet days where the puma actually moves faster on his trails, which is just mental for us to deal with. I still have over a week to go though, so reserve the right to step down if absolutely necessary.