Curious Llama in Italy Part Four: Bologna

After Bennabio, we went to Bolonga. Above, you can see a photo of Bologna's two towers. These also lean. I took this photo off the web. It also gives you a nice overview of the old part of Bologna.

This also gives you an idea. This is just around the corner from Betsy and Riccardo's flat (the two people who came out to stay with us in Bennabio). If you look at the building on the left hand side of this photo, you can see that the sidewalk is covered by a series of arches. These are called porticos.

Here is another example of porticos. Bologna is full of porticos. Apparently, they were something that were started in the 1500s or so. Even though Bologna is well inland, it is on a navigable river and so was a booming place for trade. With increased trade came increased population. In order to accomodate more people within the city walls, building owners extended their square footage by building over the sidewalks. The earliest porticos were wooden. Bologna was essentially a city run by merchants. The merchants realised that these porticos were a good thing as you could set up trading stalls beneath them and buyers could be sheltered from rain or sun. It was made a legal requirement to have a portico. If you didn't have a portico, you would be fined. For some of the wealthier families it became a status symbol to not have a portico (because it implied that you could afford the fine). Today, porticos and the sidewalk below are considered part of the fabric of the building and owners are required to keep them up as a public space.

We were in Bologna for a cycle event called the Dieci Colli. This means 10 cols (a col being a mountain pass). There are two courses. The full 10 col version covers 168km and has a total elevation gain of 2500m. The sort course goes over 5 cols, covers 98km and has a total elevation gain of 1400m. Robert, Riccardo and Betsy were all doing the 5 col version. The 10 col version is for the hardcore cyclist. They all did this last year to. The race is on May 1, which is a public holiday in Italy (and also associated with Socialism/Communism). You will see more about this later.

This year, as last year, we stayed in Riccardo and Betsy's flat in the centre of the old part of Bologna. I LOVE this flat. It is huge. Below is the entrance hallway (not very well lit in this photo). In any case, it gives you an idea of the size. You could drive a car down this entrance hall.

In case you are wondering, Riccardo works as a Economist at the University of Bologna. His father was a doctor. Betsy is a biochemist and has her own consultancy company. They have two teenage children (who have no interest in cycling).

They also share the space with Roland the cat. Roland has no interest in dogs (as we saw when the teenage son brought his girlfriend's dog to the flat).

What also makes this flat so amazing is the huge terrace they have. Now, you have to remember that this is a flat. It is about three stories up. They also have a BBQ up there and a separate sink area (the doorway on the right hand side). Robert is fine tuning his bike. That night, we have a lovely meal (pasta of course) and then head off to the race the next morning. Here is Robert below. As you can see, all the cyclists in Italy wear lycra (whether or not it suits them). Robert is in his University of Bologna cycle team outfit. Apparently, you can only join this as part of a cycle team, so the other colours all indicate different teams. Some are local like the University one, some are quite major, like Liquigas who use this as a training event for more major events like the Tour de France or the Giro de Italia.

I left Robert in the back and moved up to the front to watch the start of the women's race. People are allocated a starting place based on their expected finishing time. These are the elite women.
Yes. They really are women. Very scary women.

So, after the start, I wasn't going to see the cyclists for another 4-5 hours. As with last year, I explored the delights of Bologna. As with last year, Betsy, who felt sorry that I was 'left out' of the main event, suggested things for me to see. This time is was the porticos on the way to the Oratory of San Lucca. This is on a hill at the edge of town. The Oratory has a miraculous picture of the Virgin Mary. Every year, on August 30, the Virgin is taken from the Oratory and brought to the Cathedral in the centre. This has happened for centuries. Apparently, the bishop was tired of being rained on during this procession and suggested quite a Bolongese solution: build a portico all the way out there. So, the portico that leads to the Oratory starts at a square at the edge of the city centre. It goes on for 4km (yes 4km). It is flat at first and the porticos are actually part of buildings as you see in the rest of Bologna. Then it just becomes a covered series of arches. One side is bricked in, the other side looks out over the countryside.
This is just a small section of it.

As it goes up, it twists and turns. The porticos are quite a popular place for people to go for a stoll.
Here is a photo I pulled off the web showing the last bit of the portico as it leads to the Oratory. It took 10 years to build it. It has 666 arches. How do I know? They are numbered!
This is archway 335. May of the archways have been restored and memorial plaques have been put us. Archway 335 is sponsored by a builders college (I think).

This is quite an old one near the very top. In case you haven't figured it out, it is for an Italian missionary who worked in China.

Once at the top in the Oratory, I didn't get to see the famous Virgin (because, of course, she was in the Cathedral). I did see this rather interesting painting. There was no real info about what is is about. Maybe Dad can meditate on this one. It might be a painting about the miraculous painting.

I managed to get up and down and still had time to go to the main square to check out the May day proceedings.

Of course, the Communists had their stall out. Last year they were selling T-shirts. It is good to see that the Communists have learned a bit from the Capitalists. This year they were only handing out leaflets. Someone must have pointed out the irony to them.

One of the more bizarre features of the central square is this fountain. Yes, water is squirting out of the nipples. There are four of these figures around the central fountain. Better yet, according to Betsy, this was commissioned by a Pope. After nearly 4 hours of touring around, I returned to the race. Riccardo was already there when I arrived. It took him 3 hours 40 minutes. Robert finished last year in about 4 hours and Betsy in 4 hours and 30 minutes. So I wandered around and checked out the other cyclists and what they were wearing.

Yes! Even McDonalds has a cycle team and they wear lycra!

Above is Riccardo, looking fresh as a daisy. Next to him is Betsy. Just next to Betsy you can see Mauro and in the foreground you can see Robert. Betsy made her expected time. Robert came in after Betsy. He was unlucky enough to get caught in a rain spurt (which Betsy managed to just miss). So, this slowed him down (or so the story goes). Next year, he says that he will train more.

Part of Robert's entry fee were tickets for the post-race pasta party. So, this is what you get after an Italian cycle race: penne past in a tomato and meat sauce; a plate with cubes of Parmesane cheese, cubes of mortadella and foccacia; a bottle of water and a glass of wine. Mortadella is was became transformed into bolony in North America. As you can guess from the name, it originated in Bolongna.

Here is a wider view of the pasta party tent. Note, the food is sponsored by Parmigiano Reggio region. Bologna is part of this. As is Parma (home of Parma ham and Parmesan cheese) and Modena (home of basalmic vinegar). If you look under the 'g' in Parmigiano you will see one of the vats of wine. Again, one of these moments when you wonder why you live in the UK.

We went out for a lovely meal that night with Betsy, Riccardo, Mauro and Mauro's wife (who rides horses, not bikes). The next day, Robert and I headed off to Trieste.

Curious Llama in Italy Part Three: Bennabio

Blogger is still struggling to upload photos, so this will be another short post. Above, you can see part of the town of Bangi di Lucca, about 20 min away from Lucca. The entire place was sunny except for the one day I decided to try to take photos. Bgani di Lucca literally means 'the baths of Lucca'. The baths refer to the hot springs that are in the area. The hot springs are a bit outside of the town and are now part of a resort. Bagni di Lucca is where we eventually ended up by train from Pisa (change at Lucca). Robert arrived (avec biciclette) the morning after I did. I met him and the bike at Pisa train station and we went to Bagni di Lucca. We were told that there were infrequent buses and also taxis. At the station, we enquired about taxis and were directed to some phone numbers. Thank goodness I brought my mobile phone (we get euro roaming for our phones. That is, our local provider has an agreement with Euro providers and we get picked up by their network (at a higher cost than normal). We were picked up by taxi driver Roberto. Not only was Roberto from Bennabio, he knew exactly who our key lady was. Talking with Roberto was an experience. He spoke Italian and French (badly) so somehow between my French and bad Italian, we managed to communicate. One thing I will say about Italians is that they normally travel with the largest suitcases you could ever imagine. So, no one flinched at the sight of Robert and me and his bike in a bag (you can see the bag just behind the bike in the last post). Italians also have great respect for bicycles (This is bicicletta in Italian, but everyone calls them bici (sounds like bee-she). So Roberto looked at our large bag. I said that it was a bici. He said: 'Ah' (in a reverent tone) and then gently placed it into the back of his taxi. He also gave me his card for the return trip to the station.
Above, you can see a cute little mini truck (three wheels). This person clearly adapted it for kids. So, in the back there is a plastic garden bench with the feet sawed down and a metal bar to keep kids in place. Note the roof welded on top that has been painted like the Italian flag. Cute. Our front door is just behind the truck. It is the one with the vaulted archway in the corner (partially hidden by the pillar). Welcome to Bennabio.

I don't have any photos of Bennabio apart from the one I posted yesterday. It is a very small village. Yet, it has the basic requirements of any small Italian mountain villlage: several churches, a tabacchi, an alimentari, a restaurant and a pizzeria. A tabacchi sells tobacco, newspapers, postcards, stamps and other random items. An alimentari sells groceries. Our alimentari lady was lovely. I told her that we were staying for a week. She explained how things worked. While there were vegetables in the shop, the main time for fruit and veg sales is in the morning. Locals bring things in in the morning and they sell out fast. So, if you are there when a farmer brings down his strawberries, you pounce, because they won't still be there later on in the day. The alimentari baked its own bread. Again, while it was possible to buy bread in the afternoon, but you needed to order your bread in the morning if you wanted to have some put aside for you after the morning baking. I placed my morning daily order for a half loaf of bread. The alimentari also sold desserts. The desserts that appeared were very random. I later found out that women from the village bake stuff and then bring it to the alimentari for sale. Robert's birthday was on April 28. I went to the alimentari but didn't see any cakes. After a discussion with the alimentari lady, I found out how the whole baked goods thing worked and realised that I should have asked for a cake a couple of days previously. In the meantime, I had the candles I brought from Glasgow, but no cake. I did, however, bring some chocolates. So, with a bit of innovation, here are Robert's birthday chocolates.
One of the bummers about being 50 is that you can't actually fit 50 candles on a normal cake for two people without having the butter in the icing melt and the icing slide off the cake (mistake made with 49th birthday). So, I have resorted to ways of indicating Robert's birthday that use a fewer number of candles. I saw the Happy Birthday candles in our local grocery store and thought: Yes!.

Back to the rest of Bennabio. The restaurant/bar was only open early in the morning (for coffee), lunch and supper. I bought a bag of ground coffee at the alimentari. Our apartment had an expresso coffee maker. The alimentari lady, clearly realising that I needed enlightenment, explained that most people didn't make their own coffee in the morning, but simply went to the bar (where they read papers purchased from the tabacchi). I thanked her for this advice and bought the coffee anyway. You have to love it when shop owners try to talk you out of buying something.

Now, something that I don't have photos of (only videos) is the arrival of Betsy and Riccardo. Riccardo is Robert's Economist cyclist friend. Betsy is his American wife (who he met while working in the States). They live in Bologna (my next post). Robert had invited them to stay with us and do some cycle training. I met them both last year: the first time that Robert did the Dieci Colli. They said 'si' to our invite and cycled from Bologna to Bennabio (well over 100 km). They set out in the morning and arrived late afternoon. They stayed two nights. On their second day, all the cyclists went out on a tour. I marked essays. It was interesting to get the different views of this day. Robert didn't want to stop for lunch. He just wanted to keep cycling. He said that cycling killed his appetite. Riccardo said that arriving in a nice place and having lunch was why one cycled. Robert was out numbered. So, Riccardo and Betsy settled in for a nice lunch somewhere. Robert hung back, drank lots of water, but didn't eat. I am in the Riccardo and Betsy camp on this issue. Riccardo commented that Robert should have trained more prior to the event. Poor Robert. He had intended to train but was so loaded down by work stuff that he hasn't had a free weekend in weeks. I guess that if you are cycling fit, you get hungry after a mornings' touring.
On their last night, Riccardo called my attention to the spectacular sunset over the hills. This made me think of the colours of some of Jackie's yarn. The photo doesn't pick up the shades of purple very well.

My time line in telling the story of Bennabio is a bit out of whack. Betsy and Riccardo had come and gone before Robert's birthday. At the end of our week, we packed up for our trip to Bologna to meet back up with Riccardo and Betsy for the cycle event. Robert decided to cycle to Lucca and meet me there. This left me with my baggage and the bicycle bag. I had phoned up Roberto the night before to book our taxi. When he arrived in the morning, he wondered what had happened to 'my man'. I explained that he had cycled to Lucca and would meet me there. Roberto was very sweet. Not only did he insist on helping me carry the bike bag to the train platform, he stayed until my train arrived and helped load the bike bag onto the train. I did remind him that my train wouldn't arrive for 20 min. He said that 20 minutes was nothing and waived his hand in a dismissive manner (this exchange was all in a mixture of French and Italian). I had already paid him at this point, so he was just helping me out of the kindness of his heart. Grazia Roberto!

I have to admit that I like the whole pace of life thing in Italy. Betsy has a different view. She works as a research scientist and says that Italians are hopeless to work with. So, she set up her own consultancy company. She must be doing well at it as her 'company' bought a flat on the French Riviera. Robert and I have an open invite to stay there.

The next post(s) is(are) about Bologna and the Dieci Colli.

Curious Llama in Italy Part Two: Bennabio

This is going to be a short post. Blogger is acting weird tonight. It looks like some update is happening. So, I will simply post comments to the photos I have loaded and continue tomorrow. Above, you can see the small mountain village of Bennabio where we stayed for a week. Robert mentioned to someone that he wanted to stay in Italy for a while. This person knew someone who had a sister who had bought and renovated a place in Bennabio and was willing to rent it to us for £280 for a week. This, we regarded as quite a good deal given that the place had 4 bedrooms (two with ensuite bathrooms) , a living room, kitchen and extra bathroom. Robert paid for it. I worked off my half by doing some painting for Robert (I charge him £10 per hour for work like painting (which he hates doing and is hopeless at, but I don't mind doing)).
This is our kitchen with dining table. I took along some essays to mark. The glass of wine you can see comes from a 1.5L bottle of 'table wine' which I bought at the corner shop for less than one Euro (85 euro cents). It was a quite decent wine: very drinkable and amazing value for the price.

Above is our living room. This had a large flat screen TV and hard wood floors.

Above is another view of the living room looking towards the steps towards the three upstairs bedrooms. This place was clearly a old propery which had been rewired and renovated (but keeping the traditional features of the house, like the roofing beans and wooden doors).

The reason why were were here is that Robert had signed himself up for a bicycle race called the Dieci Colli in Bolongna about a week after our arrival. He found out about this from an Italian economist he knows who lives in Bolongna and who is a keen cyclist. So the plan was that Robert would cycle around the area to build up his general fitness prior to the race. This is Robert suiting up for a training ride. So, Robert brought a bike to Italy and I brought a laptop and a stack of marking. You will notice that Robert is wearing lycra. Cycling is big in Italy and everyone wears lycra. You will see this in my post about the actual bike race. Robert's shirt is a copy of the Tour de France winner of the 'King of the Hill' race (i.e. the cyclist who is the most successful at going uphill quickly). What can I say about the flip flops and socks? Robert and I have disagreements about footwear.

This is Robert starting off on a training run. He is still 49 at this point. More about turning 50 tomorrow.

Curious Llama in Italy Part One: Pisa

While back home in Canada the family farm was being flooded (worse than the flood of 73), I, blissfully unaware, was travelling around Italy. Robert turned 50 at the end of April and so wanted to spend that momentous/horrible day in Italy. We rented a house near Pisa. Our travels also took us to Bolongna, Trieste and, briefly, to Venice. Today's post is about Pisa. I arrived in Pisa a day before Robert.

Pisa looks like a typical northern Italian town. Above, you see of one of the older parts of town from the river. Arriving at the train station, you have to cross this bridge to get to the oldest part of town.

As you can see above, this is characterised by narrow cobbled streets.

Of course, when in Pisa, you have to go see the famous leaning tower.

I have seen the leaning tower before, many years ago. Then as this time, the first thing you think when you see it is 'cool, it really does lean'. Looking at the photo above, I don't think that I am shooting the photo on a horizontal line. I must have been unconsciously influenced by the lean of the tower. The tower used to lean 5 metres off the perpendicular. To stabilise this a bit, in 1998, the tower was wrapped in cables and attached to an A-frame. This held the tower in place while soil was removed from below the non-leaning side. This corrected the tower by 40cm and stabilised it.

As you can see above, you get a better idea of the lean if you look at the tower against something that isn't leaning. This is the cathedral.
Here is an aerial view of the tower, the cathedral and the baptistry (the round building behind the cathedral). The construction of the cathedral began in 1064. It is clad on the outside with strips of white and green marble.
Here is another view of the cathedral.
Inside, the cathedral is pretty unremarkable by Italian standards, except for the pulpit, which was carved by Giovanni Pisano in the 14th century. It took him 10 years to carve.
Here is a close up. This is only a small section. You can see why it took so long to carve. I guess that the church had a lot more money and craftsmen had a lots more patience in those days.

I was delighted to discover that the leaning tower was actually open!! The last time I was in Pisa, it was closed to visitors as they were still working on stabilising it. There are marble steps leading up to the top of the tower. It is a bizarre experience climbing into the lean. You need to put your hand against the wall in order to maintain a sense of balance.

The leaning tower, is, in fact, the bell tower for the cathedral. In northern Italy, it was the custom to have separate bell tower. Above is a close up of a bell, below is a wider view.

Once at the bells, you climb an even narrow stair case to get to the very top.
I spent the night in Pisa. For dinner that night, I had a half litre of house red wine, a bottle of mineral water and some pasta with a meat and tomato sauce (and all the bread you could eat). It cost me 10 euros (about 15 Canadian dollars). This is about £7, which would be a very good price for a meal out with wine in the UK.

Robert landed in Pisa the next day (he had a work thing the day before, but I came earlier because the plane ticket was cheaper (i.e. I paid £30 including tax (check out Ryanair.com to see the crazy prices you can get for travel in Europe on budget airlines))). We then headed towards a house we had rented in the hills above the town of Lucca, about 40 minutes from Pisa. Here is an aerial view of Lucca's famous central plazza (or piazza in Italian). Interestingly, quite a lot of the Italians who settled in Glasgow come from the Lucca area, more specifically, from the town of Barga, seen below.

Tomorrow, I will post more details on our house in the hills and Robert's 50th.

Climbing a Volcano in Bolivia: Part 3 (From Base Camp to High Camp and Back)

Sorry for the long delay in finishing off the Climbing a Volcano story. It is a busy, busy, busy time of year at work. You might want to start reading from Volcano 1 just to remind yourself of the main characters.

After a day of enjoying the pleasures of campo base, it was time to stock our high camp (campo alto). Our main concern was the lack of water up high. So Robert, Nick and I set off suitable loaded with easy to cook food at high altitude and lots of water. The Germans also set off to set up a high camp on the other volcano (not at the col, but more around to the right).
We only had to gain about 400m of altitude to get to the col (i.e. pass between the volcanoes). There was very faint path in the sand as you can see in the photo above. This made walking a bit easier as the sand was a bit harder packed than 'off piste'.
As you can see, the weather was perfect (even a little warm when you were sheltered from the wind).
After a couple of hours, we reached a place below the col where there were obvious tent circles. As the boys would have to leave their tent unattended while climbing high, we chose this boulder as it looked like it might provide some shelter. While the boys were unpacking their supplies to stash, I decided to see if I could push on to the col and look over the other side into Chile. I also wanted to do a bit of a recce to see if I could see any trace of a trail up the side of the mountain.

Why did I want to push on to look over the other side? There is a nice lake there. Here is the view from the Chilean side looking back towards Bolivia (taken from the web). You are wondering what the birds are. They are Andean flamingos. The Chilean side is also a national park. I have seen Andean flamingos in other parts of the Bolivian Altiplano (but that is another tale). Needless to say, there is something sureal about wearing an alpaca wool had, gloves and a down duvet jacket while watching flamingos who look totally unaffected by the cold (and are at over 4000m above sea level).

As you can see, the col was a pretty bleak place. I walked for maybe about 15-20 minutes but didn't seem to be getting any closer to Chile, so I turned around because I knew that the guys would be waiting for me...
... and indeed they were. I come back to see them temporarily holed up in our Livibivi. A Livibivi is a throw back to what people used to use before bivi sacks became popular. A bivi sack is essentially a body bag shaped shelter made popular by the army that you use for emergencies (or while waiting for Curious Llama to return to campo alto). What is nice about the Livibivi is that is is made in Scotland (by the girlfriend of a mountain guide) and you can fit two people in it. After I came back, all of the boy's high altitude gear was stored in a couple of grain bags and covered with rocks. We weren't really worried about anyone stealing it as any would be thief would have had to walk right by us to get anywhere where they could transport it. So, we headed back to the tent.

On the way back down, we ran into the Brazilians. They were moving their entire camp up to the col and were planning on doing the climb that night.

While we were having lunch back in base camp (french toast and maple syrup perfectly cooked by Robert), we see a lone figure with a massive rucksack come into base camp from the left (i.e. not the route that the 4X4s take). This was a stray and rather wild looking German. He spoke perfect Spanish (but not much English) and had been travelling around South America on the cheap for quite some. We invited him for french toast and also russled up some grog. His story was that he had arrived in Sajama village, didn't want to pay the 100 dollars to get a 4x4 out, could clearly see where he needed to be, so just packed up with rucksack with bottles of water, set a compass bearing to the col and set off. His plan (after french toast and grog) was to go straight to the col, set up camp there and then later head up. We asked him about his food situation (we had plenty and we figured that anyone who walked in from Sajama village must be pretty hard up). He showed me what he was planning to eat high up: normal spaghetti. I told him that you couldn't get the water hot enough up there to properly cook pasta (because of the low air pressure, water boils before it hits 100C), so we gave him some of our couscous (excellent high altitude food) and instant soup.

The next morning, there was no sign of the Brazilians or any of the Germans. The boys headed back up to campo alto, set their tent, drank lots of fruit tea with sugar, ate some couscous and then settled in for a nap. When climbing on snow, it is best to start after dark (around 2am). If you start off during the day, the snow is soft, hard to walk on and potentially dangerous. If you walk at night (with the aid of a headtorch) , the temperature is below zero and the snow is easier to walk on... or so the theory goes.

The photo above is taken from the web. What you see here are penetentes. This photo comes form the Andes, but not from our volcano. This is what can happen to snow at high altitude in places like the Andes where intense solar heat and wind can erode snow fields into a terrain that makes walking difficult indeed. Apparently, even though this a technically easy climb, the conditions underfoot were the worst that Robert had ever encountered. The snow had a very uneven consistency (sometimes ice, sometimes slush, sometimes penetentes). Basically, they were very unlucky with the snow conditions.
Nevertheless, after several hours more than they had planned, they made it to the summit. This is Nick.
This is Robert. As you can also see. After days and days of clear blue skies, they were also unlucky enough to have the only day with summit clouds since our arrival.
Here is a view of the far side of the summit cone.

So, while the boys spent a night up at campo alto and on the mountain, what was happening back in base camp? I had a lovely day of lounging in the sun (with my duvet jacket on) reading a book that I was keen to read before writing a paper for a upcoming conference. Robert and I have walkie talkies, so I was getting hourly updates from campo alto at pre-agreed times. The Brazilians wandered back into camp singing. However, they didn't make the summit. They said that the conditions were too hard and that they were not having any fun. I brewed up a round of grog, which went down a treat. Over in the German camp, the Germans with their non-local guide were still somewhere on the other mountain (which was a bit concerning as they had been up there for two nights). So, I invited their remaining base camp staff (i.e. the cook and his assistant) over for grog. Between the Brazilians and the cooks, a considerable amount of rum was consumed. I called the party to a close when my guests showed signs of becoming tipsy (high altitude hangovers are not fun). I had a final chat on the walkie takie with alto campo before settling in for the night.

The next day, I woke up shortly after dawn. I was disapointed to see clouds around the summit cone. I imagined that given the normal climbing time that they would have been up to the summit and on their way back down. However, even though I checked every hour, they were still out of walkie talkie range. Around noon, I finally make contact, found out that they had made it, that conditions were crap and that they would be back at base in a couple of hours. I made up some grog and soup because I wasn't sure what they would want when they got back.

They were both shattered. They certainly weren't interested in soup, but were keen on the grog. Robert didn't even stay awake enough for the grog.

Nick stayed awake long enough to take his jacket off and get his hands on a mug of grog, but then passed out before drinking more than a sip.
They later said that conditions were so awful that the only thing that kept them both going was the firm desire to not have to come back to finish the climb on a later day. At the start of the expedition, they had planned to do the other volcano, but both declared that they were volcanoed-out for the rest of the trip.

So, we later that night, when a driver dropped off some Quebequois (headed up to the col with porters to set up camp), we sent word back that we wanted to be picked up the next day. Our driver arrived after breakfast. There was still no sign of any of the Germans. Robert sent me over to the cooks to explain that their clients were well overdue and that if they didn't arrive by afternoon, they were to inform the park rangers to see if a rescue could be organised. We still don't know what happened to any of the Germans.

While they guys loaded the 4X4 I set about negotiating the sale of whatever equiment (like the gas tank) and food (like the remaining rum) we were not taking back to Europe. I managed to exchange $60 worth of driving for the equipment we wanted to shed. The driver also agreed to take us back to La Paz for a reduced rate.
We had a bit a wait in Sajama village while our driver transferred what remained of our equipment to his minibus (for the La Paz trip). In the meantime, we wandered around the village.
I saw an alojamiento named after my birthday. Quite a lot of things in South America are named after dates (usually a saint's day, the date of historic battles, the inauguration dates of cities etc. July 25 is a saint's day (St James).
We also saw a bunch of people gathered in the central square. 'What is that', said Nick. I take a look and quickly reply: 'Oh! That's a llama sacrifice, we must be in August now'. I check my watch to make sure it was August 1.
I explained to Nick that the month of August is when pachamama, the earth mother is hungry. Andean Indians have a reciprocal relationship with their deities. The earth mother gives, but she also expects you to pay her back. So, at the start of August (which preceeds the start of the rainly season when stuff starts to grow again) a white male llama (the most perfect you can find) has its throat cut so that the blood can fall to the earth and feed the earth mother. Accidents in mines, on roads or in the mountains are blamed on the pachamama's hunger (i.e if you don't feed her, she will help herself). So, if you don't pay her back in August and you end up in an accident, you have only yourself to blame for being so greedy that you take from the earth, but don't give back. I don't think that male white llamas had a vote in this arrangement.
On a more cheerful note: here is a white alpaca that is very happy he is isn't a llama.

For my next posting, Curious Llama waders to Peru.