🇪🇨🇵🇪🇧🇴 Heaven and Hell

Hello Adventurers, 

I’d like to welcome all the new subscribers who may have heard my recent interviews with CBC Radio or Zoomer Radio, and/or read my Canadian Press profile. The latter got huge pick-up across Canada…and is exactly the type of pressure I need: mass awareness that keeps me massively accountable to completing 239+ marathons around the world in 2023.

While I have been in the spotlight, my higher purpose is to shine a light on the world by documenting it via marathon. So thanks for finding me, and joining me on this journey. I hope my newsletter inspires you to ponder the world's nuances...and get out there!

This dispatch covers marathons in the Galápagos, Lima, and La Paz…from a state of bliss to a state of emergency to a somewhat sad state of affairs. There were highs and lows, so let’s get into this rollercoaster of a week!

- Ben Pobjoy

2023 TREK TRACKER

Where in the world...record am I?

• Countries visited: 4

• Flights taken: 13

• Kilometres flown: 14,891

• Marathons completed: 14

• Kilometres trekked by foot: 648.5

• Total kilometres trekked since 2015: 63,740

RAPID WEEKLY RECAP

A speedy synopsis for time-crunched readers

• The Wildest Thing: Arriving to Lima as the government declared a state of emergency / suspended constitutional rights...and trying to keep a low profile on two marathons there 😧

• The Biggest Obstacle: Finishing my second marathon in Lima, taking a red eye flight with a connection, getting no sleep, and landing in La Paz the next day to do a marathon at 3,625 metres above sea level 🥴

• The Lesson Learned: Our tolerance for the suffering of others is proof of our species' deranged inhumanity 😞

FIELD NOTES: ISLA DE SAN CRISTÓBAL, ECUADOR

Paradise in the Pacific Ocean

I won't lie: going to the Galápagos was the privilege of a lifetime. It was also the realization of a personal '80s childhood dream, one that was heavily informed by pouring over dog-eared copies of National Geographic as well as loving the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, both animated and live-action.

While it was expensive to visit the Galápagos — despite the fact that I stayed in very humble accommodations, and ate a lot of canned beans and bananas — it was objectively priceless: experiencing such pristine biodiversity and getting up-close to such exotic wildlife via marathons is — and was — indescribable. I won't ever be able to put it into words...it was just so raw and rewarding.

For context, The Galápagos are an archipelago of volcanic islands in the Pacific Ocean that are 900-ish kilometres west of continental Ecuador. I flew into Isla de San Cristóbal — the island with the 'major' airport — and anchored myself in Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, which is both the capital of the province and the island's main town. The island is small in size and population, there's only 5,400 residents.

Given you visit this part of the world for nature, there's not much to say about the town itself: there's a main strip along Avenida Charles Darwin with all the basics (e.g. restaurants and shops), the people are nice, and the overall push is to get out of it and go explore.

Should you visit the Galápagos, here are some things you should know:

• You need a tourist visa. It costs $20 USD in cash per person. I learnt this at the Guayaquil airport, and had to wait in line for an hour to obtain one (and nearly missed my flight). While I got to the airport two hours before my domestic flight, I would recommend showing up three hours early to accommodate the visa process.

• When you land at the Isla de San Cristóbal airport, you have to pay an additional $100 USD in cash per person for a park pass (which applies to all the islands like an all access pass). If you're travelling with a group, bring a wad of greenbacks to pay the gatekeeper.

• The internet — be it the landline network or the wireless network — barely works in Puerto Baquerizo Moreno. And outside of town, there's no wireless signal whatsoever. If I didn't have my SatCom device, I'd have been screwed with regards to navigating.

• You can't drink the tap water. This is an Ecuador-wide thing.

Lastly, my Marathon Earth Challenge is conceptually framed by what I can access by foot. As such, I merely saw the idiomatic 'tip of the iceberg' when it comes to the Galápagos because I only visited sights that were accessible by trails and roads (and there's not much of the latter on Isla de San Cristóbal).

If you want a full taste of the Galápagos, then do a guided boat tour (to the remote beaches on Isla de San Cristóbal and/or to the other islands). Everyone I spoke to who did one, raved about it (they saw dolphins, orcas, and hammerhead sharks too).

I mention this because the picture I'm about to paint is not a full picture...because I saw but a sliver of the Galápagos. Nevertheless, here is what resonated with me:

Puerto Chino: From Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, I did a 50 kilometre ultramarathon — with 1,387 metres of vertical climb —  to get to this remote and scenic beach. While the trek was a physical slog, it didn't feel that way. Why? Because I was blessed with observing so much beauty — and lush vegetation in the misty and refreshing highlands — as I passed through different micro-climates along the island's two coalesced volcanoes. Arriving to this beach at the half-way mark of the ultramarathon was spectacular: a sloping path of volcanic rock descended through cacti and tiny lizards to reveal a pristine beach full of birds, crabs, and sea lions. The kicker? I had it all to myself. It was straight-up heaven which made me feel lucky as hell.

Two caveats for you here: stay off the beach's wet volcanic rocks (they're slippy, serrated, and sharp) and do not enter the ocean here...because where there's sea lions swimming, there's sharks circling.

Galapaguera de Cerro Colorado: This is a nature reserve where you can get face-to-face with the famed tortoises of the Galápagos. It is a couple of kilometres away from Puerto Chino. Here, there's a simple muddy path — that anyone of any athletic ability can stroll — through the tortoises' breeding grounds.

In appearance, the tortoises are like dinosaurs teleported from a prehistoric age. However, their faces are near alien (bordering on scary), and seem like something out of a sci-fi writer's wildest imagination. Observing them was fascinating: they have incredibly thick shells and like to climb on top of one another (which produces this heavy grinding sound like fleshy rock gears churning). It's musical muscularity. My only warning is to not get lost in the moment and try and pet these things like one odd lady almost did. I saw some biggies eating bamboo-like tree stumps, and crushing them with their powerful jaws. Or ignore me and go speakerphone 'cause you'll likely be living hands-free thereafter if you try and touch a tortoise.

Galápagos Finca Ecoturística Guadalupe: My second marathon was a total gamble through finca lands to try and find a remote waterfall. My intention was to swim in it because it had a tree canopy (meaning I could swim without getting sunburnt) and because it offered the safety of remoteness (meaning I didn't have to worry about my gear-filled backpack getting stolen). And guess what? The gamble...A TOTAL FAIL...I just couldn't find the waterfall despite following numerous streams through dense jungle.

What I did find was a pack of cows (full of four horned bulls that were stomping at me as they guarded calves). All were collectively annoyed by my presence. Worst of all, I had a cliff on one side of me and a razor wire fence on an embankment on the other, meaning the only way through was through. Anyway, I got a self-taught crash course on how to be a marathoning matador...going MacGuyver with my little whistle, a found tree branch as distance creator, and butt cheeks clenched tight out of fear like never before. The moral of the story is, hire a local guide to take you to the waterfall...or relish your remote rodeo like I did!

I'm including this photo for no other reason than to illustrate the wild colours of the Galápagos. This crab had gelatinous looking eyes and a yellow-speckled, iridescent red exterior that was otherworldly. And when you get close to these on volcanic rocks, thousands of tiny black crabs scurry...thankfully away from you. If you have kabourophobia, the Galápagos ain't for you!

The sounds of a bumping music lured me towards Playa De Oro in Puerto Baquerizo Moreno at the tail-end of my second marathon. And I'm glad it did.

Firstly, I saw a live block party being hosted by some 'orange shirt' political party in advance of an upcoming election. People were drinking beer, eating street food, singing, and dancing as a female performer in booty shorts was dutty wining / performing reggaeton-like songs at an ear-piercing volume. Local supporters — bumping and grinding one another — definitely put the 'party' in 'political party', and it made me reflect on how boring, un-fun, and sterile North American politics are.

Secondly, the party overflowed onto Playa De Oro where sea lions as well as people were passed out on the beach. Seeing harmonious co-existence between humans and animals made my heart swoon.

Thirdly, Playa De Oro  gives way to a volcanic path (full of cacti, yellow finches, and big iguanas) that led to Playa Mann, Playa Punta Carola, and Muelle Tijeretas. It is one of the shortest yet most-bang-for-your-buck trails I've ever moved through!

FIELD NOTES: LIMA, PERU

A city on edge (of cliff)

When I landed in Guayaquil to fly to Lima, I turned on my phone and learnt that the government of Peru had declared a state of emergency. And standing at the boarding gate, I didn't know what to do other than walk the plank towards the Peru-bound plane, and really just hope for the best.

I had been keeping an eye on Peru for months, unsure whether to nix my plans to visit. Why? Because President Castillo dissolved Congress last December, was jailed and ousted, and then his supporters began to mobilize and protest.

And then the political violence became deadly in mountainous Indigenous enclaves — far beyond Lima — and Lima generally seemed okay, well, okay until I got there, and constitutional rights were broadly suspended.

I didn't know what it would all mean, and fortunately it didn't prove to mean anything. Lima was peaceful, Limeños went on living, I banged out two marathons, and am glad I did because the city is a paradox. It's lush and arid, it's cosmopolitan and coastal, it's developed and desert-y, and it's contemporary yet visibly pre-Incan.

While it isn't pastiche in the least, Lima has strange notes of familiarity: parts of the Barranca neighbourhood felt like Lisbon architecturally (I highly recommend getting lost in the vicinity around the Escudo de Barranco), its Chinatown felt like the no-holds-barred mercados in Mexico City, and the ocean front — complete with a muscle beach — felt like Santa Monica and Venice Beach respectively. 

I had two days in Lima where I completed two marathons: one on a gorgeous sunny day, the other on a day when the city was blanketed by ocean fog. Due to the weather, the city felt alive — like it was constantly shifting — and this is what I felt most enlivened by:

Huaca Pucllana: Ancient pyramids pepper Lima's city centre — sprouting out of nowhere amidst residential and commercial areas — and they lend the city a uniqueness I have not seen anywhere else. The juxtaposition of locals not batting an eye at them, and them contrasting with the modern urbanism makes for great street scenes. Many of these pyramids were rehabilitated over the last few decades, after some had been used as dung heaps and/or places for motocross! You can shit on history, but let it shine in the end, okay?

Malecón: From Malecón de la Costa Verde to Malecón de Chorillos, Lima has approximately 13 kilometres of elevated coastal promenades that overlook the Pacific Ocean. The cliff-kissing promenades are lined with beautifully manicured parks full of amazing places to take in views, work-out, and ride bikes. Someone really nailed the design of it all!

City workers are constantly cutting grass, removing dead growth, and tending to flowers along the promenade's parks. Short of Tokyo, I've rarely seen a city take such pride in  — and care of  — its parks. Lima's urban planning (along this coastal space at least) is top-notch, and proves that health and community thrive when city planners create the conditions for such in free-to-access public places.

Playita Coste Verde: Prior to visiting Lima, I had no clue the city had a big surf scene...and I only learnt about it when I looked down on surfers from a cliff above! Naturally, it inspired me to get down there, which I did at sunrise on a marathon the next day. Between the way the light broke onto the beach through the towering buildings above and the numerous pelicans I saw in the wavy waters, I was deeply enamoured. My awe was plussed-up by the swoosh-y sound of the waves receding back over the large rocks on shore. Go here, inhale the ocean air, and take in the scenery!

Cristo Del Pacifico: I followed the Malecón to its natural end at the hard knocks town of Chorillos, and rounded the bend by road. Much to my surprise and delight, the city gave way to arid highlands (reminiscent of Utah) that slanted aggressively into the ocean (totally unique to Lima).

This was only eight kilometres from Miraflores (where I was staying), and I could not believe this radical change-of-world existed on the outskirts of town. There's a few gems in this area so take note: obviously, there's the big Jesus statue (which is taller that the 'Christ the Redeemer' statue in Rio de Janeiro). I hiked up to it, and it was a dusty blast.

Below it is the Mirador Salto del fraile, an angular rocky slope into the ocean. To get on it, you have to cross a rough bridge straight out of Game of Thrones. Walk it and watch the fishermen and the pounding waves. And if you want more arid-meets-aqua fun, then keep pushing further south along the coastal road to Paso de la Araña.

Congresso de la República: Given the government of Peru had declared a state of emergency and suspended some constitutional rights, I marathoned right up to its Congress — and poked around the neighbouring legislative complexes — to assemble with the military and create this photo. Read between the lines to get what I'm getting at or just live your life as a meme like I do.

FIELD NOTES: LA PAZ, BOLIVIA

Multi-level madness full of mercados and mean streets

My BFF Anna jokes that La Paz will take your breath away, not because it is beautiful per se, but because it sits at 3,625 metres above sea level where the oxygen is thin. Furthermore, every street...in every direction...feels like it's a vertical climb.

Basically, La Paz is a really tough place that makes for tough trekking. I did two marathons here and the first one — done after a sleepless series of connecting, overnight flights — may have been the toughest marathon I've ever done (and I've done 600+ around the world). Comically, it was my thirteenth marathon of the year: unlucky in number and experience.

That said, both marathons were trying: each had more than 1,000 metres of climb atop the existing elevation, the air was dirty and dusty, I was parched no matter how much water I drank, I got random nosebleeds, the UV exposure is high at this altitude (so I was burning despite it being cold outside and me being covered up), and there's a lot of riff-raff on the streets (from aggro strays to wild drivers to do-no-gooders).

By virtue of its terrain, this city doesn't make sense. Like, it is hard to wrap your head around how it all pieces together...as well as how to get from A to B in a linear way. Why? Because cable cars are below you then on top of you, the bridge you need to cross appears...and is hundreds of feet above you, everything is peaks and valleys, and everything slants in every which way. This city is just multiple, stacked planes like a 'snakes and ladders' board game IRL.

I personally love to directionally decipher places like this — they're like a physical puzzle to solve — but marathoning this matrix isn't for the faint of heart, figuratively or literally.

I don't want to misrepresent La Paz — because there are some nice spots — but this place is hard. If you're a bleeding heart liberal than the dire poverty on the dirty streets will make your eyes bleed. And if you're a 'pull one's self up by one's bootstraps' type then your idiom will become idiotic when you see all bootless, barefoot kids begging for money (likely for food, not bootstraps).

This place is full of happy colours and sad scenes, there's no other way to say it. Just know that before you go.

I believe in confronting reality —  from the beauty to the brutality — and this is what I saw in La Paz:

El penal de San Pedro: If you think I'm being exaggerative about La Paz, then you can read this Wikipedia excerpt on the prison that was on my street:

"(Saint Peter's Prison) is the largest prison in La Paz, Bolivia and is renowned for being a society within itself. Significantly different from most correctional facilities, inmates at San Pedro have jobs inside the community, buy or rent their accommodation, and often live with their families. The sale of cocaine base to visiting tourists gives those inside a significant income and an unusual amount of freedom within the prison walls. Elected leaders enforce the laws of the community, commonly through stabbing. The prison is home to nearly 3,000 inmates (not including the women and children that live inside the walls with their convicted husbands), with additional guests staying in the prison hotel."

Mercado Rodriguez: This is the market district that sells all things food and flower. I highly recommend touring it as it's full of sights and sounds and smells. Everyone is selling colourful things under colourful tarps so it's all so technicolour. The variety of potatoes sold here is astonishing, and I can say that the fries I had in La Paz were some of the best I've ever had. Hit potatoes hard in La Paz, bb.

On this leg of the Marathon Earth Challenge, I hone in on these types of markets to do my grocery shopping and/or eat breakfast or lunch. Here, I had lunch which consisted on some peanuts from the women above as well as some sliced mango and watermelon from another vendor.

Mercado de las Brujas: I am averaging about 200-250 kilometres of weekly marathons...done through streets I don't know, and through streets that sometimes look back at me with hungry eyes. I know I'm vulnerable...I'm here alone...so I went to see the witches in La Paz to double-down on some protection: buying one amulet and one bar of soap alleged to have magical danger-repellant properties. Is this hokey? Maybe. Is this hocus-pocus? Maybe. All I know is that I'll entertain anything in order to survive unscathed.

Plaza Sucre: Located across the street from El penal de San Pedro, this park is park-y in a normal sense (locals hanging out)...but it also doubles as a market for families of prisoners to buy take-out food...to take into prison. You see prison guards and families of inmates eating side by side, they both finish and cross the street, and then the guards manage the same people now queuing to go into jail with food delivery. If that isn't your scene, you may like the Plaza Metropolitana Murillo. It's more grand.

Valle de las Animas and Valle de la Luna: On both of my marathons, I left the city centre to explore La Paz's gnarly terrain out in nature. Las Animas (pictured) was a climb to get up to — through a pretty tough neighbourhood — but was worthwhile, enabling me to get a good look at the area's thin and pointy pillar-like rock formations. La Luna wasn't much different, but was still fun to trek to because you pass through a tunnel bore through a mountain. On this trek, I did pass an indigenous woman selling coca leaves in a park, and I was bummed to be unable to buy a bag because I didn't have any Boliviano bills on me at the time. Allegedly, they're great to chew when acclimating to altitude.

During my time in La Paz, tensions were elevating as protestors were lighting fireworks in the streets. Some were shot into the air, others were shot at government buildings. The sound of the explosions didn’t just ricochet around my neighbourhood, the ‘bangs’ became more frequent…which is both my outro music and my cue to skedaddle.

If you go to La Paz, tensions may not be as elevated, but the city’s elevation may make you tense. Don’t fret! I got you!

Here are some tips on getting acclimated:

• Altitude makes you drowsy and sluggish, and want to take a nap. Don’t! My advice is to move your body, gasp for air, and try and get the blood-flowing. I’m not saying marathon per se, I’m just saying go move a little. It feels counter-intuitive but I’ve learnt that getting the heart beating, the lungs expanding, and the loogies dislodged ASAP expedites acclimating. You can get to the same outcome by lying around for days...but then you're screwing with your vacay.

• Drink a lot of water. Like 3-5 litres daily. The air is so thin and dry that you don’t feel hot or sweaty…yet moisture is being wicked from your body at a crazy rate. It is very easy to get hydrated so chug, chug, chug water.

• That mental fog? You don’t have a headache or need a coffee. Your brain is just adapting to working with less oxygen. It’ll go away in a day or two. You may feel a bit more forgetful or indecisive...but you’re not having a brain aneurysm. Chill. It’ll pass.

• Elevation near the equator is a sneaky sunburn snake. The air is cooler while the UV rays are stronger, and it’s weird to shiver while getting baked. So wear long sleeves and generously smear suntan lotion all over yourself.

• Most importantly, breathe with intention: deep inhalation through the nose with slow exhalation through the mouth. I like five seconds in, five seconds out: done on a rhythmic metronome count. I get more air into me with this technique than being a short, huffy-puffy mouth breather.

And for whatever reason, I get super weird dreams at high altitude as my brain is acclimating! And unfortunately, I don't have a fix for that.

BEST LOCAL THING-Y

I’m fairly certain this was my first time eating fresh Choclo, a variety of corn from the Andes. Bought from a duo of street food vendors at a block party in the Galápagos, it was generously brushed with spicy pepper-infused oil then grilled over a smoky wood fire. The kernels were hefty and humongous, and much more dense, fibrous, and starchy than the teeny-weeny sweet corn back home in Ontario. Choclo is basically a neutral canvas, and what made this tasty was the oil in the crevices of the kernels, the absorption of smokiness from the grill, and the near deep fried texture achieved by flame and oil. For $1 USD, this big snack was super filling.

I would be remiss if I did not highlight the fare at Howm in La Paz, a super friendly café meets lax restaurant meets cozy workspace. All the staff were so nice, and their food was incredible. I had a chickpea flour crêpe stuffed with sautéed vegetables alongside toasted corn bread and a delicate salad. It was as technically inventive as it was delicious; a Bolivian take on an Ethiopian injera. And this full — and very filling — meal along with a latte and a tip only came out to a mere $7 USD.

POBJOY'S GLOBAL PRICE INDEX

This is an on-going documentation of how much things cost in different places around the world. Here are some of the things I bought in the Galápagos, Lima, and La Paz (all prices converted to USD)

• 100 grams of spicy broad beans, 300 ml Coke in glass bottle, and 2 litre bottle of water from a bodega in the Galápagos: $7

• Two 150 gram bags of trail mix and a 85 gram jar of instant coffee from a grocery store in Lima: $7.25

• Quinoa burger, fries, and vegan horchata from Go Green in La Paz: $3.81

MARATHON MUSINGS

A short critique on what it means to be hard

I can tell you what hard is, and it isn't me.

Sure, I've been whittled down to skin and bones by hundreds and hundreds of marathons, but I remain soft.

I have it comparatively better than most: something I've always known, and something that has been confirmed by my marathons through —  and around —  the world.

My Marathon Earth Challenge is a choice. Whereas the real challenges others face —  being the involuntary hardship of a tough existence —  is a sentence. And none of this is lost on me.

Travel is a privilege.

And having the time — and the means —  for things like leisure and exercise is a luxury many can't compute...because they're just trying to survive.

It's why that 'savage, hustle, grind' ethos in athletics makes me cringe. I get that some need to step into that mindset to get motivated, but let's all acknowledge that it's just cosplay.

Hard is hard. And that just isn't us, player. What we do is play, and to frame it as 'hard' isn't just make believe, it demonstrates complete out-of-touchness with the real hell out in the world.

I can tell you what hard is, and it isn't athletics.

Have any questions about the content of this newsletter? Reply to it, and I'll try and answer you when it's safe to do so!