I admitted to a few friends after the 6-0 defeat to Reading on New Year's Day that I had resigned myself to West Ham being relegated from the English Premiership, again. We had scored only 20 points in more than a half season of football, had lost a club record nine games in a row and had a huge injury list. There appeared no way back from the punishment of spending the 2007/08 season in the Championship.
I was particularly gutted and baffled by this run of form as it was only one season before that we made it to the FA Cup Final and finished in a creditable position on the Premiership table after two years out of the top flight. And no one, not the BBC pundits, or almost any followers of the game would have predicted the turn around in form we enjoyed after sacking Alan Pardew and appointing Alan Curbishley as the new manager.
Curbs' first game in charge we played Manchester United at Upton Park and beat them 1-0. Amazingly, even with Man U being crowned the Champions a week ago, we beat them again 1-0 at Old Traffod yesterday to ensure our survival, winning eight of our past nine games. I don't know what it is about Manchester United. I think if you were a Man U supporter you'd describe the Hammers as your bogey team. We also took all six points off Arsenal this season as well. And those games as it turned out were the keys to our survival. God knows we couldn't beat our fellow strugglers Charlton, Wigan, Watford or Sheffield United.
But whatever, it's all for the history books now. West Ham United, the pride of the East End live to fight another season in the English Premiership.
Monday, 14 May 2007
Sunday, 6 May 2007
Yikes and hikes
The bus to Papallacta was two hours east of Quito in the Cordillera Orientale, on the road to Baeza. All of the teachers at the Spanish school warned us against going to the Terminal Terrestre (bus station) because it was very dangerous to do so. Robbery was common, guns and knives were likely, they said. It was with some hesitation that we packed our bags early and caught a cab to the Terminal on a Saturday morning. The next obstacle was figuring out how to buy a ticket and which bus to catch. There were many ticket sellers and even more busses and nobody was yelling out 'Papallacta! Papallacta! Papallacta!'
We followed the route covered in Trek Six in our book 'Trekking in Ecuador', purchased second hand from a bookstore in Quito earlier that week. We'd gone ahead and purchased the optional maps from the Instituto Geografica Militar atop a steep hill only days earlier to be sure. We had food, we had water, we had all the gear required for a hike of this nature. The carrot at the end of the stick, so to speak, were the natural thermal springs on the valley floor. As we'd set off at an early hour, we walked up the steep unpaved road toward the trout farms and arrived at the trailhead by 9:45. We picked our way past pastures with a few cattle and across small wooden bridges that cris-crossed the Rio Papallacta (Papallacta River) in several places. Cloud forest, both young and old, and large pools of ankle deep mud were prevalent. And the only sound we heard was water rushing over rocks and occasional bird chatter. The clouds were low, the mountains very high on both sides to the north and south and there was only one way forward.
The couldforest was amazing. Irregular shaped branches and trunks grew in all directions, completely coverered with moss and draped with cascading lichens and orchids. The canopy let in a low green light that gave the space underneath an eerie feeling. Amy said, "I feel like I'm in a fairytale", and she was right. It was a kind of Tim-Burton-nightmare-in-green.
We hiked for four hours until we lost the trail. With the clouds so low, it rained on us intermittently for most of the time, but not enough to need a raincoat. It was generally wet, and after four hours on the hoof, we stopped for a rest. We then decided to look for the waterfall which was the point of undertaking this particular walk, but we decided to leave the wet forest walking and hike the rest of the way on the other side of the river on the unpaved road. We climbed to about 3700m, which was as high as either of us had ever been. My previous best was skiing the Stubier Gletscher at 3600m out of Innsbruck, Austria years ago with Bruce and Jo. The great thing about this hike was the at the height we had achieved, we were't even close to the top, or a real view. The mountains rose to 4200m nearby, and the completely cloud-obscured Volcan Antisana stood at the western end of the valley at 5752m was without a doubt the biggest mountain on the area: The Andes are much bigger then the Alps.
So we strolled back down along the road, back to where we started, and we had a choice of three different thermal pools to leap into. The fancy ones at the top of the road wanted $7 for the pleasure, while the municipal baths in the town of Papallacta were a few more kilometres away. We took the third option, and hopped into a nice big pool for only $2. This place didn't have the many different pools at different temperatures angle, but it was warm and good. Ideal for two folks who've just hiked through wet forest for five hours. The steam poured off the top of the pool and we enjoyed the time.
The next day we didn't have to think or worry about negotiating Terminales, getting off at the right place, buying provisions, selecting pools or anything at all. Along with a guide, a Patrol and a pair of Czechs, we hit the road for a day of downhill mountain biking. We had decided days before that we would visit the Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World) or the equator just north of Quito, and this trip satisfied that goal as well as giving us some time to catch some views of the Andes. The first stretch was a lazy 24km downhill and it passed without incident. It is possible to forget that while mountain roads afford fabulous views of the valley you're travelling through they also have tose mountainous near-vertical drop offs down to the valley floor. I spotted a couple of these on the way down and remembered to concentrate on my cycle.
The Bellavista hummingbird sanctuary was next. Now, we'd never seen a hummingbird before, let alone a few hundred of them, made up of I would guess 6 different species. The largest species were the most numerous and when flying did so with an accuracy and speed that I cannot explain. The smallest of them sounded like a big bee. And if you were fast enough, you cold have reached out and touched them, they were that close.
We rode another 12km downhill and loaded the Bianchi's back on top of the Patrol and drove the coast road along the equator towards the Mitad. Sheer mountains rose up from the valley floor, covered in primary cloudforest, pristine and perfect.
The Mitad by contrast was a commercial weird lame-out so we peeled off the back of a tour group and went for beer with the Czechs.
On the Monday morning we were awakened by an alarm clock. This felt a lot like going to work. It was our last day of Spanish classes though, and finish time was 1:00pm, so it wasn't too dificil. Soon enough though we were back at the Terminal catching a bus south to Latacunga, a one-horse town if ever I saw one. We were delayed briefly by some bug I caught and as a part of my recuperation, we attempted to find a bar to watch AC Milan v Manchester United in the second leg of the Champions League semi-final. This was a big game, and in futbol mad South America we thought that finding a venue would be easy. It certainly wasn't hard in Quito. We asked a lot of people, and they simply did not understand what we were talking about. In the end we managed to catch it by fluke in a dirty almuerzo (lunch) place, and when we couldn't take it any more and left, we found another TV for the second half. That was enough of Latacunga and the next day was caught the bus to Chucchillan via the Saquisili market.
The Lonely Planet claims that 'Ecuadorian ecomonists consider this to be the most important indigenous village market in the country, and many travellers rate it as the most interesting in Ecuador'. While we could see how these markets brough together a large number of rural Campesinos and Quichua speaking indigenous folk, and how that would be good for the economy, they looked extremely similar to a lot of other markets we'd seen elsewhere in the world. Good for photos, good for people watching, good for a bargain and all. In total I think we spent 45 minutes there. We then found the bus to Chucchillan and got on board for the bumpy ride.
The following morning, we packed our bags, ate our breakfast, paid our bill and set off on foot for the Laguna Quilotoa (Lake Quilotoa). Quilotoa is regarded as the 'crowl jewel of the area, part of Parque Nacionale Illinizas'. 800 years ago Quilotoa was an active volcano that blew its top. As the magma chambers emptied after the eruption, the centre of the volcano collapsed leaving a gigantic crater with a green lake at the bottom, 3km across and 300m below the top of the crater rim.
The simple way to reach it would be to take a morning bus ride to the town of Quilotoa which is perched atop the crater rim and gaze across the lake and beyond to the twin peaks of the Illinizas Sur (South) and Norte (North). The hard way is to hike there from Chucchillan. We opted to hike there. Our hiking book listed the hike as 'moderate' and so we thought it wouldn't be too hard.
The first hour or so was spent walking down perilously steep tracks through and past farming houses. A landslide had made the final descent to the Rio Sigui
So we walked, and walked and walked. And indeed, the trail did become clear and it was straight up those canyon walls which were about 250 vertical metres high. The vertical height gained in each one of the switchbacks was immense, and because of this it was also incredibly tiring. The trail was so deeply cut into the canyon walls that in places it became 6 feet, then 12 feet then 30 feet deep, a mini slot canyon where the floor was only just wider than our feet and only just wide enough to scrape our backpacks through. You cold not turn around, and the air had a stillness that made breathing seem difficult. The only progress you could make was to move forward. After two hours of this punishing ascent, we made it to the plateau at the top. Our book told us it would take half of this time, so we were behind schedule.
Some welcome flat stuff through more farming areas was next, but after the previous hour's descent and two hour's ascent, we were becoming a spent pair. There was an 'extremely basic' hostel at Guyama, but it was only lunch time and there would be nothing to do for the afternoon if we stayed in Guayama. Besides, we could clearly see our target, which was the lowest sandiest point of the crater rim straight ahead. We pressed on.
We walked the unpaved road out of Guayama and passed the ruined Hacienda in the time prescribed by our book and as the mountain ahead was not even close to as steep as that we'd just ascended, we were of the mind that we could make it to the top in the two hours also prescribed. So we walked and I felt the lactic acid build up to the point where I could only walk for 10-14 steps at a time before I was forced to stop for a 20 seconds, then walk again, then stop. And on like this for three hours. We were consistently doubled over gasping for breath with lactic acid burning our legs and a lack of food making our vision wobble. Then the rain came, sweeping up from the valley below.
The clouds in this part of the world move very fast. In the space of only five minutes the sky overhead can go from perfectly clear to full cloud with lashing wind and rain. As the equator is close by however, it was not cold, at least not yet. Due to our elevation, maybe 3800m, the clouds did not come in from overhead, but from below us, so that when they arrived we were inside the cloud rather than under it.
We at last made it to the final chute before the summit of the crater rim. It was made of a coarse sand with fine gravel, like a big sand dune, and at the summit of a 4000m mountain no less. Just what we needed after seven hours of the most punishing climbing we had ever experienced. But we made it over the top, and what a sight!
The crater was colossal and the water was indeed an emerald green some 300 vertical metres below us. We spent 10 minutes with our 16kg and 20kg packs off (too heavy), taking a few photos and generally enjoying our achievement. But as we stood there, a cold strong wind blew up the inner wall of the crater, chilling our sweat and rain soaked bodies. We had been in the elements for a long time now, and we had eaten very little. Illness threatened if we did not keep moving, as hard as that was. So we pressed on around the crater rim bound for the village of Quilotoa for two more hours with the wind whipping over us from the left while the clouds draped over us like a muted blanket from the right. There was some relief with flatter sections of trail, but we negotiated five more ridges on the home stretch. In some places these were like climbing a staircase without the steps, and in others like climbing a ladder with no rungs. It was wet, and windy and cold and at last we made it along the final stretch to a hostel where it was wonderful to have a roof over our heads. We had hiked for nine straight hours, with only a few remnant crackers from our hike in Papallacta nearly a week before and some water, and with packs that were simply too heavy. Eight of those hours were straight up. According to our guidebook we descended 200 vertical metres and ascended 1100 vertical metres.
Our hosts fixed us a fine yet simple meal which we ate with ferocity. And the room temperature bottle of coke was the best soft drink I've ever had in my life. After dinner we sat next to the fire and warmed ourselves through. Then at maybe 8:00pm - to bed.
The following morning was a perfectly clear day, and in the crystal rural air at 4000m we had views over many many kilometres. Quilotoa shined like light from a mirror and the Illinizas were perfect in their majesty far beyond the crater rim. I was pleased: we'd been in Ecuador for two weeks and had not seen a single mountain because of the consistently bad weather. And sitting in a bus later that morning descending from our high ridge back down to Latacunga for a bus change en route to Banos, we also had magnificent views of both Cotopaxi and the erupting Tungurahua.
We're in Riobamba now for the night, as tomorrow we go to Cuenca, Ecuador's third largest city with around 600,000 people. Amy's birthday is on Saturday so we thought we'd go to a bigger place in the hope of finding a nice gaff to stay in for the weekend. Hopefully the clouds go away too. If not, we're hoping for better viewing weather in Peru, and we should be there in a week or two.
Until next time.
We followed the route covered in Trek Six in our book 'Trekking in Ecuador', purchased second hand from a bookstore in Quito earlier that week. We'd gone ahead and purchased the optional maps from the Instituto Geografica Militar atop a steep hill only days earlier to be sure. We had food, we had water, we had all the gear required for a hike of this nature. The carrot at the end of the stick, so to speak, were the natural thermal springs on the valley floor. As we'd set off at an early hour, we walked up the steep unpaved road toward the trout farms and arrived at the trailhead by 9:45. We picked our way past pastures with a few cattle and across small wooden bridges that cris-crossed the Rio Papallacta (Papallacta River) in several places. Cloud forest, both young and old, and large pools of ankle deep mud were prevalent. And the only sound we heard was water rushing over rocks and occasional bird chatter. The clouds were low, the mountains very high on both sides to the north and south and there was only one way forward.
The couldforest was amazing. Irregular shaped branches and trunks grew in all directions, completely coverered with moss and draped with cascading lichens and orchids. The canopy let in a low green light that gave the space underneath an eerie feeling. Amy said, "I feel like I'm in a fairytale", and she was right. It was a kind of Tim-Burton-nightmare-in-green.
We hiked for four hours until we lost the trail. With the clouds so low, it rained on us intermittently for most of the time, but not enough to need a raincoat. It was generally wet, and after four hours on the hoof, we stopped for a rest. We then decided to look for the waterfall which was the point of undertaking this particular walk, but we decided to leave the wet forest walking and hike the rest of the way on the other side of the river on the unpaved road. We climbed to about 3700m, which was as high as either of us had ever been. My previous best was skiing the Stubier Gletscher at 3600m out of Innsbruck, Austria years ago with Bruce and Jo. The great thing about this hike was the at the height we had achieved, we were't even close to the top, or a real view. The mountains rose to 4200m nearby, and the completely cloud-obscured Volcan Antisana stood at the western end of the valley at 5752m was without a doubt the biggest mountain on the area: The Andes are much bigger then the Alps.
So we strolled back down along the road, back to where we started, and we had a choice of three different thermal pools to leap into. The fancy ones at the top of the road wanted $7 for the pleasure, while the municipal baths in the town of Papallacta were a few more kilometres away. We took the third option, and hopped into a nice big pool for only $2. This place didn't have the many different pools at different temperatures angle, but it was warm and good. Ideal for two folks who've just hiked through wet forest for five hours. The steam poured off the top of the pool and we enjoyed the time.
The next day we didn't have to think or worry about negotiating Terminales, getting off at the right place, buying provisions, selecting pools or anything at all. Along with a guide, a Patrol and a pair of Czechs, we hit the road for a day of downhill mountain biking. We had decided days before that we would visit the Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World) or the equator just north of Quito, and this trip satisfied that goal as well as giving us some time to catch some views of the Andes. The first stretch was a lazy 24km downhill and it passed without incident. It is possible to forget that while mountain roads afford fabulous views of the valley you're travelling through they also have tose mountainous near-vertical drop offs down to the valley floor. I spotted a couple of these on the way down and remembered to concentrate on my cycle.
The Bellavista hummingbird sanctuary was next. Now, we'd never seen a hummingbird before, let alone a few hundred of them, made up of I would guess 6 different species. The largest species were the most numerous and when flying did so with an accuracy and speed that I cannot explain. The smallest of them sounded like a big bee. And if you were fast enough, you cold have reached out and touched them, they were that close.
We rode another 12km downhill and loaded the Bianchi's back on top of the Patrol and drove the coast road along the equator towards the Mitad. Sheer mountains rose up from the valley floor, covered in primary cloudforest, pristine and perfect.
The Mitad by contrast was a commercial weird lame-out so we peeled off the back of a tour group and went for beer with the Czechs.
On the Monday morning we were awakened by an alarm clock. This felt a lot like going to work. It was our last day of Spanish classes though, and finish time was 1:00pm, so it wasn't too dificil. Soon enough though we were back at the Terminal catching a bus south to Latacunga, a one-horse town if ever I saw one. We were delayed briefly by some bug I caught and as a part of my recuperation, we attempted to find a bar to watch AC Milan v Manchester United in the second leg of the Champions League semi-final. This was a big game, and in futbol mad South America we thought that finding a venue would be easy. It certainly wasn't hard in Quito. We asked a lot of people, and they simply did not understand what we were talking about. In the end we managed to catch it by fluke in a dirty almuerzo (lunch) place, and when we couldn't take it any more and left, we found another TV for the second half. That was enough of Latacunga and the next day was caught the bus to Chucchillan via the Saquisili market.
The Lonely Planet claims that 'Ecuadorian ecomonists consider this to be the most important indigenous village market in the country, and many travellers rate it as the most interesting in Ecuador'. While we could see how these markets brough together a large number of rural Campesinos and Quichua speaking indigenous folk, and how that would be good for the economy, they looked extremely similar to a lot of other markets we'd seen elsewhere in the world. Good for photos, good for people watching, good for a bargain and all. In total I think we spent 45 minutes there. We then found the bus to Chucchillan and got on board for the bumpy ride.
The following morning, we packed our bags, ate our breakfast, paid our bill and set off on foot for the Laguna Quilotoa (Lake Quilotoa). Quilotoa is regarded as the 'crowl jewel of the area, part of Parque Nacionale Illinizas'. 800 years ago Quilotoa was an active volcano that blew its top. As the magma chambers emptied after the eruption, the centre of the volcano collapsed leaving a gigantic crater with a green lake at the bottom, 3km across and 300m below the top of the crater rim.
The simple way to reach it would be to take a morning bus ride to the town of Quilotoa which is perched atop the crater rim and gaze across the lake and beyond to the twin peaks of the Illinizas Sur (South) and Norte (North). The hard way is to hike there from Chucchillan. We opted to hike there. Our hiking book listed the hike as 'moderate' and so we thought it wouldn't be too hard.
The first hour or so was spent walking down perilously steep tracks through and past farming houses. A landslide had made the final descent to the Rio Sigui
So we walked, and walked and walked. And indeed, the trail did become clear and it was straight up those canyon walls which were about 250 vertical metres high. The vertical height gained in each one of the switchbacks was immense, and because of this it was also incredibly tiring. The trail was so deeply cut into the canyon walls that in places it became 6 feet, then 12 feet then 30 feet deep, a mini slot canyon where the floor was only just wider than our feet and only just wide enough to scrape our backpacks through. You cold not turn around, and the air had a stillness that made breathing seem difficult. The only progress you could make was to move forward. After two hours of this punishing ascent, we made it to the plateau at the top. Our book told us it would take half of this time, so we were behind schedule.
Some welcome flat stuff through more farming areas was next, but after the previous hour's descent and two hour's ascent, we were becoming a spent pair. There was an 'extremely basic' hostel at Guyama, but it was only lunch time and there would be nothing to do for the afternoon if we stayed in Guayama. Besides, we could clearly see our target, which was the lowest sandiest point of the crater rim straight ahead. We pressed on.
We walked the unpaved road out of Guayama and passed the ruined Hacienda in the time prescribed by our book and as the mountain ahead was not even close to as steep as that we'd just ascended, we were of the mind that we could make it to the top in the two hours also prescribed. So we walked and I felt the lactic acid build up to the point where I could only walk for 10-14 steps at a time before I was forced to stop for a 20 seconds, then walk again, then stop. And on like this for three hours. We were consistently doubled over gasping for breath with lactic acid burning our legs and a lack of food making our vision wobble. Then the rain came, sweeping up from the valley below.
The clouds in this part of the world move very fast. In the space of only five minutes the sky overhead can go from perfectly clear to full cloud with lashing wind and rain. As the equator is close by however, it was not cold, at least not yet. Due to our elevation, maybe 3800m, the clouds did not come in from overhead, but from below us, so that when they arrived we were inside the cloud rather than under it.
We at last made it to the final chute before the summit of the crater rim. It was made of a coarse sand with fine gravel, like a big sand dune, and at the summit of a 4000m mountain no less. Just what we needed after seven hours of the most punishing climbing we had ever experienced. But we made it over the top, and what a sight!
The crater was colossal and the water was indeed an emerald green some 300 vertical metres below us. We spent 10 minutes with our 16kg and 20kg packs off (too heavy), taking a few photos and generally enjoying our achievement. But as we stood there, a cold strong wind blew up the inner wall of the crater, chilling our sweat and rain soaked bodies. We had been in the elements for a long time now, and we had eaten very little. Illness threatened if we did not keep moving, as hard as that was. So we pressed on around the crater rim bound for the village of Quilotoa for two more hours with the wind whipping over us from the left while the clouds draped over us like a muted blanket from the right. There was some relief with flatter sections of trail, but we negotiated five more ridges on the home stretch. In some places these were like climbing a staircase without the steps, and in others like climbing a ladder with no rungs. It was wet, and windy and cold and at last we made it along the final stretch to a hostel where it was wonderful to have a roof over our heads. We had hiked for nine straight hours, with only a few remnant crackers from our hike in Papallacta nearly a week before and some water, and with packs that were simply too heavy. Eight of those hours were straight up. According to our guidebook we descended 200 vertical metres and ascended 1100 vertical metres.
Our hosts fixed us a fine yet simple meal which we ate with ferocity. And the room temperature bottle of coke was the best soft drink I've ever had in my life. After dinner we sat next to the fire and warmed ourselves through. Then at maybe 8:00pm - to bed.
The following morning was a perfectly clear day, and in the crystal rural air at 4000m we had views over many many kilometres. Quilotoa shined like light from a mirror and the Illinizas were perfect in their majesty far beyond the crater rim. I was pleased: we'd been in Ecuador for two weeks and had not seen a single mountain because of the consistently bad weather. And sitting in a bus later that morning descending from our high ridge back down to Latacunga for a bus change en route to Banos, we also had magnificent views of both Cotopaxi and the erupting Tungurahua.
We're in Riobamba now for the night, as tomorrow we go to Cuenca, Ecuador's third largest city with around 600,000 people. Amy's birthday is on Saturday so we thought we'd go to a bigger place in the hope of finding a nice gaff to stay in for the weekend. Hopefully the clouds go away too. If not, we're hoping for better viewing weather in Peru, and we should be there in a week or two.
Until next time.
Wednesday, 2 May 2007
Bikini Rave
For the past two years my man Marto has hosted an annual party named 'The Bikini Rave'. The first edition in 2005 was a pearler, but the 2006 version was the best party I've ever had the pleasure of playing records at. Rusty and I spun the wheels o' steel from 2:00pm until 1:00am, which is a big set in anyone's estimation.
Frazer Bailey from Play TV lent his formidable skills to the 2006 event by shooting and editing a short film which you can download by following this link: www.playtv.com.au/Bikini_Rave.mov
It's platinum.
Frazer Bailey from Play TV lent his formidable skills to the 2006 event by shooting and editing a short film which you can download by following this link: www.playtv.com.au/Bikini_Rave.mov
It's platinum.
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