Have your say on which of our celebrity coal-fired power stations will get a visit from activistd this october!
http://climatecamp.org.uk/press/2009/08/08/activists-launch-public-online-vote-to-choose-a-coal-plant-to-shut-down
http://www.thegreatclimateswoop.org/?q=about
...and why? Because...
"Apartheid didn’t collapse, people got together and struggled, and sang, and persisted. Women weren’t given the vote, they joined with each other and made universal suffrage essential. And so it goes. It’s a well-worn argument, but that doesn’t make it less right. Most of the freedoms we enjoy today have been won by people stepping out of line to make the world a better place by taking back power. And this means confronting the powerful who wish to preserve the status quo. Climate change won’t just go away until we, that’s you and me, get together and create moments of resistance and celebration that break through this grey, complacent slide towards catastrophe".
18 August 2009
13 August 2009
Paro in Peru - stuck in a blockade again
We decided to go straight to the capital, Lima, from Cuzco and found some cheapish ticksts at the station. The journey was to take around 20 hours, starting at 8pm. As is quite common in these parts the journey was a roller coaster ride with the bus rattling along at full speed round winding mountain roads, despite the thick night fog. After the initial anxiety, as per usual we were able to salvage some very broken sleep until the early hours.
At around 3am the coach stopped. At first I thought it was a loo break, and fell back into a slumber, happy that the stationary vehicle would offer a better prospect of sleep. But as the day of light increased, a glimpse through the window revealed that we were one of maybe 40 coaches bumper to bumper, sitting along a road in the middle of nowhere. It was quite clear that we were stuck in a blockade, or 'Paro'.
In the previous month there had been a series of high profile paros in Peru, targeting the main routes between the major cities. I'm still not completely sure about what they have been in opposition to, although I know some may have been in response to the horrendous government masacre of indigeous people in the Amazon back in June (see earler 'News roundup' post) , and others against the government's water privatisation proposals.
At the front of the line I could make out group of people and a small plume of black smoke. Wiping the sleep from my ey
es I grabbed the camera and went to investigate. There were groups of people engaged in heated arguments between those responsible for the blockade and those caught up in it. The scenery combined with the filthy black smoke form the burning tires on the roadside created a post-apocolyptic, Mad Max II -like scene. There were a group of men with a crowbar trying to dislodge a huge boulder that sat on an embankment a few metres above the road. I asked a few people what it was all about. Some said lack of jobs, others mentioned that the main road through the nearby town needed serious work, and that it had done for 15 years; the people of the town had taken advantage of a strike on the previous day to finally send a powerful message t
he government -get on with it!
As the time passed, tensions began to run high as patience dwindelled. Occasionally someone one would begin to roll or kick rocks off the road, only to be met by the angry, old Cholitas (indig enous women), who imediately began to replace each rock with 3 more. At one point, a rock-throwing battle broke, initiated by some idiot teenagers. There was a lot of shouting and people began moving back out of the wa y, and a few of the vehicles at the front reversed out of the danger zone. I scuttled higher up the embankment from which I viewed the situation, along with many other spectators. It was all over pretty quickly, with the offending youths retreating high among the rocks, perching like baseball-capped v ultures. Thankfully, despite the high tension of the situation, that was the only violent incedent of the day.
We spent the rest of the day chatting with other bemused travellers (many of which were on their way to catch a flight) and sitting in the sun relaxing. It was a fine place to be stuck in a blockade. People began to eat their lunches on the grass and, to our disappointment, followed the local tradition of using any availabl e place of natural beauty as a bin. We d ecided to try and set an example by wandering around bagging the litter. Some looked shocked whilst others, the bus driver included, sniggered and made snide remarks. It did have the desired effect though; a lady with her children came up to us thanked us, pressing her children to follow our example, and shortly afterwards we saw others picking up wrappers and bottles too.
During the day we'd become concern ed about the many children caught up in this - would they really make us stay put througho
ut a cold night with no heating or supplies? During one of the many community debates and meetings which took place on the frontline, I had my say. I too am an activist, I said, and am supportive of peaceful direct action when the government continuosly fails to listen to the people. But surley holding up young mothers and babies, without water or food is unfair, and no way to drum up sympathy and support for the cause?.
The day went on, and the radio reports m ade their various predictions for how long it would last, the favourite being 48 hou rs (this was bac ked up by the "VIVA EL PARO! 48 HORAS"! grafitti that had been painted on the windscreens of each vehicle hours before. Supprisingly the police were nowhere to be seen for most of the day. I couldnt help but imagine the police response on the UK if a major route had been blockaded! Helicopters, video cameras and truncheons all round. The light began to dwindle, and we began to wander if it really would last so long. Then , suddenly the coach engines started up one by one. They were letting us through! We had been there for 16 hours!
So, the 20 hour journey had turned into one of 36, so we were happy to reach a hostel in the early hours mist of Lima. The plan was to sleep for an hour, find migration to sort out our illegal status, and then head off to begi n a voluntary project in a rural village; making ecological stoves out of mud and donkey shit.
At around 3am the coach stopped. At first I thought it was a loo break, and fell back into a slumber, happy that the stationary vehicle would offer a better prospect of sleep. But as the day of light increased, a glimpse through the window revealed that we were one of maybe 40 coaches bumper to bumper, sitting along a road in the middle of nowhere. It was quite clear that we were stuck in a blockade, or 'Paro'.
In the previous month there had been a series of high profile paros in Peru, targeting the main routes between the major cities. I'm still not completely sure about what they have been in opposition to, although I know some may have been in response to the horrendous government masacre of indigeous people in the Amazon back in June (see earler 'News roundup' post) , and others against the government's water privatisation proposals.
At the front of the line I could make out group of people and a small plume of black smoke. Wiping the sleep from my ey
es I grabbed the camera and went to investigate. There were groups of people engaged in heated arguments between those responsible for the blockade and those caught up in it. The scenery combined with the filthy black smoke form the burning tires on the roadside created a post-apocolyptic, Mad Max II -like scene. There were a group of men with a crowbar trying to dislodge a huge boulder that sat on an embankment a few metres above the road. I asked a few people what it was all about. Some said lack of jobs, others mentioned that the main road through the nearby town needed serious work, and that it had done for 15 years; the people of the town had taken advantage of a strike on the previous day to finally send a powerful message t
he government -get on with it!
As the time passed, tensions began to run high as patience dwindelled. Occasionally someone one would begin to roll or kick rocks off the road, only to be met by the angry, old Cholitas (indig enous women), who imediately began to replace each rock with 3 more. At one point, a rock-throwing battle broke, initiated by some idiot teenagers. There was a lot of shouting and people began moving back out of the wa y, and a few of the vehicles at the front reversed out of the danger zone. I scuttled higher up the embankment from which I viewed the situation, along with many other spectators. It was all over pretty quickly, with the offending youths retreating high among the rocks, perching like baseball-capped v ultures. Thankfully, despite the high tension of the situation, that was the only violent incedent of the day.
We spent the rest of the day chatting with other bemused travellers (many of which were on their way to catch a flight) and sitting in the sun relaxing. It was a fine place to be stuck in a blockade. People began to eat their lunches on the grass and, to our disappointment, followed the local tradition of using any availabl e place of natural beauty as a bin. We d ecided to try and set an example by wandering around bagging the litter. Some looked shocked whilst others, the bus driver included, sniggered and made snide remarks. It did have the desired effect though; a lady with her children came up to us thanked us, pressing her children to follow our example, and shortly afterwards we saw others picking up wrappers and bottles too.
During the day we'd become concern ed about the many children caught up in this - would they really make us stay put througho
ut a cold night with no heating or supplies? During one of the many community debates and meetings which took place on the frontline, I had my say. I too am an activist, I said, and am supportive of peaceful direct action when the government continuosly fails to listen to the people. But surley holding up young mothers and babies, without water or food is unfair, and no way to drum up sympathy and support for the cause?.The day went on, and the radio reports m ade their various predictions for how long it would last, the favourite being 48 hou rs (this was bac ked up by the "VIVA EL PARO! 48 HORAS"! grafitti that had been painted on the windscreens of each vehicle hours before. Supprisingly the police were nowhere to be seen for most of the day. I couldnt help but imagine the police response on the UK if a major route had been blockaded! Helicopters, video cameras and truncheons all round. The light began to dwindle, and we began to wander if it really would last so long. Then , suddenly the coach engines started up one by one. They were letting us through! We had been there for 16 hours!
So, the 20 hour journey had turned into one of 36, so we were happy to reach a hostel in the early hours mist of Lima. The plan was to sleep for an hour, find migration to sort out our illegal status, and then head off to begi n a voluntary project in a rural village; making ecological stoves out of mud and donkey shit.
9 August 2009
Climate Camp Video
Oh yeah, did I mention how amazing The Camp for Climate Action is and how you should go this month?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWk6_iN3o2Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWk6_iN3o2Y
20 July 2009
Machu Picchu
Originally we'd planned to find the ruins of Machu Picchu by ourselves, bypassing the plethora of tour agencies and following the route in our own time. However we'd met some people who had recommended the 'jungle tour' which included some mountain biking and trecking all for a pretty decent price. I was well up for the cycling bit, so in the end we booked onto a tour.
Our group was a nice varied bunch, made up of a couple from Oz, another from Barcelona, a couple of comedy welsh fellas, a guy from South Korea, and a bunch of rowdy young Chilean cousins.
On the first day we travelled high up into the mountains to Abra Malaga (4316 m) where we were surrounded by the snowcapped Huacay Willca Mountains. Here we were issued our bikes, helmets and gloves, and began a two hour descent, bombing through different ecological zones at a crazy speed. I loved it! It's been a while since I've mounted my trusty stead, the majestc Raleigh Mantaray, and I've certainly never reached speeds like that before. At times it felt like 'Tour de France', the 15 of us cruising down, passing each other and various other groups along the way. The views were awsome. It made for pretty good buzz and has wet my appetite for more mountain biking. Can't beat a good bit of wholesome, carbon-free fun! As we descended the temperature rose, the insects began to sing and the sweet unmistakable scent of tropical forest became frequent. That night we stayed in the small town of Santa Maria, which felt to us a bit like Colombia, and where the local kids seem to play volleyball twenty four hours a day.
The next day was on foot. We walked for many hours, climbing narrow paths which ascended through the forest, passing the remote homes of banana growing families. It was a pretty tough day, which made the natural hot springs all the more rewarding when we got there. We stopped for the night in another tiny town, and all went out for some food and cocktails.
Next day was a 4am start, and we continued along the sacred valley of the Incas, following the beautiful Urubamba river and a disused railway track. It was a nice walk, and we reached the town of Aguas Calientes in good time, where we relaxed for the afternoon.
The next morning we started at about 3am and hiked up to the entrance of the ruins. It was pretty tough going, steep step after steep step for about 2 hours, along with the hoards of others making the same pilgramage. By the time we reached the top, there were probably eighty or so people already there, from all over the world and by the time we were allowed to enter the crowd probably swelled to about three hundred.
The 'Lost city of the Incas' were every bit as impressive as the pictures, and being there for the sunrise was nice, especially as only a fraction of the 2500 or so daily visiters were clambering around at that point.
The Incas had commenced its construction around AD 1430 as a kind of exclusive dwelling for the Inca rulers (although there are various theories about its purpose), but was abandoned a hundred years later as the Spanish pushed futher into the territory on their bloody conquest, although it turned out they had'nt even known about it anyway. Consequently they did'nt destroy it like the many other significant inca settlements they left smashed in their wake.
Most people queue for the twice daily opportunity to climb up Wayna Pichu mountain, which over looks the ruins. After hearing tails of irate tourists fighting tooth and nail to make it for the 200 places allowed, we decided to climb the less often visited Machu Picchu mountain, which stands at the oposite end of the ruins and is much higher, offering an even more spectacular view. And it was worth it. After our sweaty, heart-pounding ascent in the mid-day heat, we were rewarded with a really special view, and spent a few hours up there. To make the day even more memorable, our Australian friend proposed to his girlfriend on the way up, to the cheers of our motley crew! Luckily for us, the sun shone all day with no cloud or mist to obscure the view. All in all it was a wicked trip with a great group of people.
Our group was a nice varied bunch, made up of a couple from Oz, another from Barcelona, a couple of comedy welsh fellas, a guy from South Korea, and a bunch of rowdy young Chilean cousins.
On the first day we travelled high up into the mountains to Abra Malaga (4316 m) where we were surrounded by the snowcapped Huacay Willca Mountains. Here we were issued our bikes, helmets and gloves, and began a two hour descent, bombing through different ecological zones at a crazy speed. I loved it! It's been a while since I've mounted my trusty stead, the majestc Raleigh Mantaray, and I've certainly never reached speeds like that before. At times it felt like 'Tour de France', the 15 of us cruising down, passing each other and various other groups along the way. The views were awsome. It made for pretty good buzz and has wet my appetite for more mountain biking. Can't beat a good bit of wholesome, carbon-free fun! As we descended the temperature rose, the insects began to sing and the sweet unmistakable scent of tropical forest became frequent. That night we stayed in the small town of Santa Maria, which felt to us a bit like Colombia, and where the local kids seem to play volleyball twenty four hours a day.
The next day was on foot. We walked for many hours, climbing narrow paths which ascended through the forest, passing the remote homes of banana growing families. It was a pretty tough day, which made the natural hot springs all the more rewarding when we got there. We stopped for the night in another tiny town, and all went out for some food and cocktails.
Next day was a 4am start, and we continued along the sacred valley of the Incas, following the beautiful Urubamba river and a disused railway track. It was a nice walk, and we reached the town of Aguas Calientes in good time, where we relaxed for the afternoon.
The next morning we started at about 3am and hiked up to the entrance of the ruins. It was pretty tough going, steep step after steep step for about 2 hours, along with the hoards of others making the same pilgramage. By the time we reached the top, there were probably eighty or so people already there, from all over the world and by the time we were allowed to enter the crowd probably swelled to about three hundred.
The 'Lost city of the Incas' were every bit as impressive as the pictures, and being there for the sunrise was nice, especially as only a fraction of the 2500 or so daily visiters were clambering around at that point.
The Incas had commenced its construction around AD 1430 as a kind of exclusive dwelling for the Inca rulers (although there are various theories about its purpose), but was abandoned a hundred years later as the Spanish pushed futher into the territory on their bloody conquest, although it turned out they had'nt even known about it anyway. Consequently they did'nt destroy it like the many other significant inca settlements they left smashed in their wake.
Most people queue for the twice daily opportunity to climb up Wayna Pichu mountain, which over looks the ruins. After hearing tails of irate tourists fighting tooth and nail to make it for the 200 places allowed, we decided to climb the less often visited Machu Picchu mountain, which stands at the oposite end of the ruins and is much higher, offering an even more spectacular view. And it was worth it. After our sweaty, heart-pounding ascent in the mid-day heat, we were rewarded with a really special view, and spent a few hours up there. To make the day even more memorable, our Australian friend proposed to his girlfriend on the way up, to the cheers of our motley crew! Luckily for us, the sun shone all day with no cloud or mist to obscure the view. All in all it was a wicked trip with a great group of people.
Border crossings - illegal aliens in Peru (Soundtrack: Sting - Englishman in Peru)
We returned to Copacabana had a quick breakfast, went to the book exchange for new reading material and then did a bit of haggling for bus tickets to the city of Cusco, Peru. Unfortunately the official at the border didn't agree with our calculation of 90 days as the total of our duration in Bolivia - he counted 91 days (including the day we arrived as one whole day, as opposed to one day being 24 hours after the moment we arrived). So, we had to join the naughty line to await our charge of about one quid fifty each. The meagre penalty itself we could have lived with - it was what happened afterwards that became a ball ache. As we'd had to spend extra time queuing in two queues we were quite far behind in line, and most of the people from our bus had moved on. The bus conductor was getting impatient and moved us to the front to get our stamp, telling us to hurry up. We got our stamps boarded the bus once more. It wasn't until we had almost reached our destination that we realised that we'd only recieved our exit stamp from Bolivia, and not our entry stamp for Peru! Whilst we had been waiting to pay our fine (which we shouldn't have had to pay in the first place) our fellow passengers had dissapeared, not to the bus as we'd thought, but to another office to get their entry stamps. No one had told us about the other office and we'd been rushed through. So we were illegal aliens in Peru.
As we passed through vast expanses of open fields the air became jet-black with smoke from huge areas of burning grass; some kind of natural pasture burning for grass renewal. It gave the impression of traveling through a war-torn country dotted with the smouldering remains of bombed-out villages.
We arrived in Cusco late and managed to find a fairly cheap hotel despite the 'historical centre of Peru' being possibly one of the most tourist-driven places in South America, due to it's history as the capital of the Inca empire and its close proximity to Machu Picchu.
As we passed through vast expanses of open fields the air became jet-black with smoke from huge areas of burning grass; some kind of natural pasture burning for grass renewal. It gave the impression of traveling through a war-torn country dotted with the smouldering remains of bombed-out villages.
We arrived in Cusco late and managed to find a fairly cheap hotel despite the 'historical centre of Peru' being possibly one of the most tourist-driven places in South America, due to it's history as the capital of the Inca empire and its close proximity to Machu Picchu.
Despite it being completely over-run with visiting foreigners (ourselves included of course), with over 850,000 visiting in 2007 alone, and with all the high brow accommodation and restaurants to cater for them, Cusco is a pretty 
nice city. There's plenty of nice old colonial architecture and narrow cobbled roads and stone walls (many of which were built by the Incas), and the many plazas are always bustling. You do get sick to death of the countless people trying to sell you dinners and massages though, prompting the creation of the Irish bar's 'NO GRACIAS!' T-shirt. There were few street parades during our time there and we visited an art exhibition of giant paper mache swine-flu related pigs!
nice city. There's plenty of nice old colonial architecture and narrow cobbled roads and stone walls (many of which were built by the Incas), and the many plazas are always bustling. You do get sick to death of the countless people trying to sell you dinners and massages though, prompting the creation of the Irish bar's 'NO GRACIAS!' T-shirt. There were few street parades during our time there and we visited an art exhibition of giant paper mache swine-flu related pigs!We found respite from the masses in the local semi-open air market, where each we'd start by eating breakfast with the locals. This would consist of a couple of Tamales (steam cooked corn dough, sweet or savoury, wrapped in a corn husk) and bad coffee, and maybe an egg buttie for good measure.
Due to the daily t
urn over of visiters usin
g Cusco as base to visit Machu Picchu, there's a pretty good night life, with several clubs lining the central plaza. On our second night I asked around to see if I could get a gig or two and soon enough I'd been invited to play at 4 clubs the following night!
The first one had a really nice layout with the booth up on a balcony looking down onto the crowd below. Some classic Hip Hop and Funk coaxed out a couple of B-boys and soon enough there was a battle going on, much to the delight of the circle of onlookers. Thats the first time I've played to the B-boys in a while and it felt good, reminding me of the K0 Rockin'It days! Just shame I was playing on the most basic of CD decks - I was itchin' for a scratch! In the second I played mainly breaks and a bit of reggae, and ended up playing for a good 4-5 hours, so I never made it to clubs 3 and 4!
urn over of visiters usin
g Cusco as base to visit Machu Picchu, there's a pretty good night life, with several clubs lining the central plaza. On our second night I asked around to see if I could get a gig or two and soon enough I'd been invited to play at 4 clubs the following night!The first one had a really nice layout with the booth up on a balcony looking down onto the crowd below. Some classic Hip Hop and Funk coaxed out a couple of B-boys and soon enough there was a battle going on, much to the delight of the circle of onlookers. Thats the first time I've played to the B-boys in a while and it felt good, reminding me of the K0 Rockin'It days! Just shame I was playing on the most basic of CD decks - I was itchin' for a scratch! In the second I played mainly breaks and a bit of reggae, and ended up playing for a good 4-5 hours, so I never made it to clubs 3 and 4!
We booked the mandatory trip to Machu picchu. We chose the 4-day 'jungle tour' which would involve one day of bombing down a mountain on a bike and a few days trecking through the jungle to get to the ancient site. We'd originaly wanted to do it alone, without a tour, but the price was pretty reasonable and I was well up for some mountain biking. So we packed our bags and got ready for some serious walking.....
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