Finding R&R (Rest & Ruins) in Serene Samaipata

Scenes from Samaipata: Paul amid the peaks ~ Peter chatting on the parrot phone ~ El Fuerte archeological site ~ Easy rider Paul

In Quechua the town means “The Height to Rest” – and indeed this is where Paul and I found a relaxing and picturesque place to kick back for a long weekend.   We were coming from steamy, tropical Santa Cruz in the eastern lowlands of Bolivia in search of cooler temperatures and an escape from the crowds.  It was our last weekend together in Bolivia before Paul had to return home.

Samaipata is something of an anomaly for Bolivia.  Blessed with a delightful subtropical climate and tucked in the easternmost folds of the Andes mountains, the area has attracted foreigners for centuries: first the Sephardic Jews expelled from peninsular Spain during the Inquisition, later some Italians and Croats, and finally a sizable number of expats (mainly artists and free-thinkers from Europe) starting in the 1970’s when the road from Santa Cruz was paved.

Perhaps the most celebrated foreigner to come to the region was Ernesto “Che” Guevara in 1966 during his ill-fated attempt to bring Socialist revolution to South America.  He was killed almost a year later in the nearby village of La Higuera.

Today Samaipata remains a sleepy backwater with quiet colonial streets, a peaceful Plaza Principal filled in the evenings with locals on promenade and traveling hippies playing music and selling hand-made wares.  The resident expats are barely visible but present, often running businesses catering to tourists.  Samaipata hosts organic farms, Buddhist meditation retreats, ecological construction (my superadobe instructor from La Paz is based here), and a large number of reveling cruzeños from Santa Cruz on holiday weekends.

Samaipata is an especially agreeable place.  It reminded us of what San Miguel de Allende in Mexico may have been like decades ago.

The quiet streets of Samaipata: wandering cows, unpaved roads and the parrot phone booths

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Peter’s Picture Show: A Bus Ride Through Bolivia

Here’s a 3.5 minute video of our eight-hour journey through the Bolivian mountains from La Paz to Cochabamba.  We saw all sorts of inclement weather, beautiful terrain and unfortunate accidents during the trip.  Thankfully we arrived unscathed.

Easy Rider in the Northern Highlands of Vietnam

On the saddle of a Honda 125 in Sapa, Vietnam

One of my goals in Vietnam is to learn how to ride a motorcycle.  Since rentals are so simple and cheap (no paperwork or license required, just hand over $8 for the day), I figured this is as good a spot to learn.  Most motorcycles are small (110-150 cc) and maneuverable and I had been riding a manual scooter for a few weeks so was familiar with the gears.  But best of all, I had Paul as a seasoned rider to help me along.

Picturesque valley of hill-tribe villages and terraced rice paddies

So our first day in beautiful Sapa in the northern highlands of Vietnam on the Chinese border, I was off and running (after a few stalled attempts!) with my Honda 125 cruising down Highway 152 to the valley from the hilltop town of Sapa.

The landscape was stunning since Sapa is perched high in the mountains just beneath Mount Fansipan (Phan Xi Păng), the highest point not only in Vietnam but of Indochina as well.  The valley is sprinkled with terraced rice paddies and hill-tribe villages of the colorfully attired H’Mong, Dzao and Tay peoples.

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Atlantic Ocean Plunge,
New Year’s Day 2011

To kick off the New Year, I decided to finally join the Polar Bear Club and go for a body-chilling dip in the Atlantic Ocean.  So with little fanfare, I stopped by Mark and Amy’s wonderful home for the winter overlooking Pepperrell Cove in Kittery, Maine and jumped in the drink.

Fortunately it was an unusually mild day for January (with a high of 55°F) which made for a much easier entry into the 39°F-ish ocean.  After the dip I was able to stand for some time on the beach in only my trunks and water shoes.

I tried unsuccessfully to enlist others to join in the fun — Paul’s text reply was an emphatic “No f*ckin’ way!” and Mark claims he is “physically incapable” of entering cold water.  Not surprising from the Lechner brothers who never swim in the Maine waters even in the height of summer.  Oh well, I guess everyone has a tolerance threshold for such things.

This particular feat had been on my mind for some years but always missed due to weather, location or hangover.  So 2011 proved to be The Year and I’m pleased to have a resolution so easily and quickly crossed off my list!