Hiking in Samaipata, Bolivia

I woke up this morning to a mosquito biting me on my cheek.  Last night, I also got some kind of bite on my pinky finger that is now so swollen it´s painful to bend my entire hand. 

The desert is far behind me now.  It´s more tropical here in the southeast of Bolivia-- papayas, passionfruits, bananas, and fruits so ripe that they smell like they´re rotting, mosquitos, rain, green leafy plants, and humidity.

I have decided that hiking in the rain is one of my least favorite outdoor activities. My allegedly Gore-tex shoes last only a couple of hours and my theoretically waterproof jacket lasts an hour at best before I´m soaked through. We went for a long hike in the cloud forest of Parque Nacional Amboro to see the giant ferns.  In the pouring rain.  Slipping and sliding more than hiking.

The only other place where these giant ferns exist, some of which are a thousand years old, is in New Zealand.   

I decided that if it rained the next day, I would leave Samaipata, but I awoke to a perfectly clear and beautiful morning. Annamarie (S. Africa), Andrej (Germany), Sonja (U.S.) and I grabbed a taxi to the tiny "town" (really, just a few houses on the road out of Samaipata) of Palermo where we bargained for a local guide to bring us up the mountains and down to the waterfalls near Las Cuevas.  The scenery looked strangely like the set from Lost- lush, green rolling hills under spotless blue skies. 

After a pounding under the waterfalls that almost took my swim bottoms off, (if you look closely at the photo, I´m holding on to them for dear life) we headed back to town for a well-deserved ice cream. 

We ended the day with a hike to see the sunset from a moutain overlooking town.  Sonja had brought Peta Chispas (otherwise known as Pop Rocks).  We passed the packet around and sat in the yellow glow of the setting sun listening to the popping and tickling on our tongues.