South America: Amazing Inca ruins and much more

Lia Lenggogeni, Contributor, Jakarta

As I took a tentative sip of my first mate de coca (coca leaf tea), I felt that unmistakable adolescent rush. Oh, the story I would tell the folks back home!

It was around 6 a.m. at the Tatio geyser field, and the temperature was about minus 5 degrees. Just perfect for a cup of steaming, brewed, somewhat illicit herbs!

I only managed half a cup and spat out the rest. This was no mind and mood altering drink. Chinese herbal drink, anyone?

Mate de coca is easily found in South American high altitude areas, like the Atacama desert in Chile and Cuzco in Peru. Despite its dubious ingredient, it is a perfectly legal, traditional Andean drink, drunk mostly to appease high altitude sickness. The locals believe that coca leaf tea helps one adjust a little more smoothly to the thin air.

In fact, although coca leaves have been widely masticated to lessen the effects of hunger and high altitude, they have also had long important ritualistic uses in Andean society. But today, much to the locals' delight (especially in Cuzco), it also offers a novelty element for international tourists.

Thus, coca leaves abound in practically anything touristy: "Coca leaf is not a drug" T-shirts, real coca leaf in pendants, boxes of mate de coca, the whole lot. A souvenir peddler on a San Pedro de Atacama craft market even offered to sell me some fresh coca leaves, neatly wrapped in clear plastic, insisting that they were absolutely legal to bring home! I politely declined.

When I told people that I was going to backpack through Chile and Peru for a month, they looked at me with disbelief. When I told them I was going by myself, I was a confirmed nutter in their eyes. What I found surprising was that this view was shared by South Americans themselves.

Despite the associations with illegal drugs and guerillas, I found traveling in South America easy and enjoyable. The people are a genuinely amiable lot. Curious and puzzled on why somebody wanted to travel on a roughly 30-hour plane ride to their homeland, they made sure I had a pleasant time.

In fact, the only notable problems I encountered were motion sickness and language. My Spanish was as good as their Bahasa Indonesia. After a while, I was quite good at doing mime and reading others' reciprocal efforts.

I spent most of my first few days in Chile trying to find my way around. The locals were helpful, but with varying results. Once, I asked a nice young man in a subway for directions to a local mall in Santiago. After a few minutes of broken English, Spanish and miming, he knew I was just being polite when I said I understood him.

So he offered (mimed, to be exact) to take me there himself by bus. I was surprised when the bus driver waved away my fare. Curious, I asked my new friend why. Again, he tried to explain. It was hopeless. Finally he showed me his badge. He was an off- duty policeman, stationed near the mall.

Another time, a misunderstanding turned out to be painful. Literally. After a journey on an overnight bus, I arrived in Pucon very early in the morning and decided to take a city tour with a travel agent recommended by my host and travel book. The only English-speaking agent explained in broken English that there was no city tour available that day.

There was, however, a tour to the Huerquhue National Park starting in a few minutes with and without a tour guide -- would Miss be interested in that one? I eagerly took that tour with the optional tour guide. Pucon, a charming small town with Alpine touches located in the Chilean Lake District, is the adventure capital of Chile with many outdoor activities.

The travel agent picked me up in a minivan alongside some Spanish-speaking tourists. It turned out there was no guide after all. The driver kindly stopped by a corner shop on the way to the park so I could buy some lunch. There was no lunch. So I bought a bag of potato chips and thought nothing of it.

Trekking on the Huerquhue should be one of the easiest short- haul hikes, according to my travel book. I should be able to see the important lakes and waterfall in a measly two or three hours, walked back, and voila! I imagined a nice, piping hot homemade meal next to a fireplace at an inn I spied at the bottom of the trail. Big mistake.

Now is a good time to tell you a bit about myself. The only exercise I do at home is channel surfing or the occasional sprint to secure a seat in crowded restaurants. There was a light shower that day, the trail was excruciatingly muddy, slippery and covered in snow. Plus, I was so ravenous I could eat the whole park and still ask for seconds. I quickly trailed way behind the rest of my fellow tourists, dragging my heavy hiking boots along, stopping every few minutes.

I only saw a few other tourists every once in a while. It took me three hours to reach what most people accomplished in 30 minutes. As I savoured my potato chips (which quickly became the most prized possession in my backpack) amid the forest of towering beech and araucaria trees, shooting pains running up and down my legs, my brain scanned through tomorrow's newspaper headlines: Unidentified foreign tourist found dead with empty bag of chips clutched in hand/Beginners trail at National Park claimed its first victim.

I managed to make my way down later in the afternoon and arrived at the bottom of the trail around 6 p.m. To my chagrin, the inn I saw earlier before the hike did not provide hot food. Actually, it provided no food at all. I ended up having my first meal of the day in town that night. I stayed in bed for the next two days, laid low by sore bum and feet.

After the Huerquhue incident, I decided that my next jaunt would be with a more couch potato-friendly tour instead. Hence the boat excursion to see Torres del Paine National Park. My tour companions were two elderly Australian farmers, there was minimal walking and the weather was perfect. Bliss.

Torres del Paine is impressive. Located in the Patagonia region of southern Chile, it is Chile's prized jewel and rightly so. Turquoise lakes were complimented by massive granite peaks and towers that soared from sea level to upward of 2,800 meters. Condors floated on the magnificently clear blue sky above golden pampas and rolling steppes. I first saw the stunning gigantic blue glaciers during lunch from the beautiful dining room of Hosteria Lago Grey.

A kindly waiter lent me a pair of binoculars to better view these magnificent jagged blocks of ice that had drifted to the lake's shores. Seen up close from the tour boat, they were even more mesmerizing. At night, the black sky was peppered with so many dazzling stars, rendering the lakes and open space eerie and beautiful at the same time.

After the freezing temperatures of southern Chile, I was more than ready for a sunnier climate. The advantage of traveling in Chile is that it has an interestingly diverse landscape. Landlocked between the Pacific Ocean and the mighty Andes, its serpentine shape stretches 4,329 km from tip to tail with the world's driest desert in the north and the extremely cold Patagonia region in the south.

San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile was a quaint, laid-back adobe village with bizarre land formations, giant sand dunes and canyons called the Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), as well as boiling geysers. It also host the biggest number and more varied gringos I'd encountered so far down my Chilean trip. Because of its size, you bump into the same people all the time, so you start to smile and make small talk to complete strangers.

A Portuguese tourist, after being told by a French woman of my place of origin, proudly showed me his F4 watch, acquired in Yogyakarta a year before.

Even the locals know what you are up to. I got carsick on my way back from the Tatio geysers, and the aforementioned souvenir peddler knew about it the minute I got back to my hostel (he told Meghan, another tourist I got acquainted with).

San Pedro was also the site of my first llama sighting. Attention, Tintin readers: they don't spit in your face. So go ahead, get closer to the furry beings (hey smelled like goats, though).

If Chile was full of natural wonders, Peru had both breathtaking landscapes and historical ruins.

Cuzco, the storied capital of the Inca dynasty and gateway to the imperial city of Machu Picchu, is a fascinating blend of pre- Columbian and colonial history with a throbbing party scene. Despite reports of violent muggings directed at foreign tourists, the town had not lost its charms.

Cuzco is best explored on foot. Most of the top attractions are within walking distance from the Plaza de Armas, the focal point of the town. These are mostly convents and churches built on the foundations of Inca buildings and monuments. The Spanish conquistadors razed most of them, melting all the gold they could find to bring home or decorate their churches with.

There are also some impressive Inca ruins near Cusco, namely Sacsayhuaman, Q'enko, Puca Pucara and Tambomachay.

And then, of course, there is Machu Picchu. To get to Machu Picchu, you could hike the four-day Inca trail, take the train from Cuzco, or if you have the money, fly there in a helicopter. Whichever way you choose, the sight is rewarding.

The Incas hid Machu Picchu so high in the clouds that it escaped dustruction by the Spaniards, who never found it. Even now, it still retains some mystery. There are several claims on who first discovered this majestic ruin. Vast and proud amid towering Andes mountains, frequently covered by mist, it simply defies common language. The spectacular setting enhanced the steep terraces, gardens, granite and limestone temples, staircases and aqueducts seemingly carved directly out of the hillside.

Unlike other places of interest, even the sight of hordes of tourists (at least 1,000 a day, with attendant warnings from UNESCO that it may place Machu on its list of endangered sites) did not spoil this incredible view. On our way back to town, people simply could not stop talking about it. I still could not stop talking about it after two months. It does have that effect on people.

For a continent often mentioned alongside soccer, drug barons, treacherous guerillas and telenovelas, it was a pleasant surprise to find gorgeous landscapes, breathtaking ruins and some of the warmest, most welcoming people in the world.

Not only did I come back in one piece, I would go back in a heartbeat. Next stop, Colombia?