Americans and Urban Slacklining

Fresh papaya. Breakfast.

(Goal: eat as much fresh tropical fruit as possible while here.)

Into town, for the delicious cafe con leche (my south american vice).

Unfortunately, while sipping away staring into the depths of the Cordillera Blanca from the balcony of the cafe, I overheard quite possibly the worst gringo accent ever.

It sounded something like this:

Pear-oh. So-low teng-goh oon see-en. Key-air-oh ah app-ren-dare mahss ess-pan-ee-‘ol. Grr-ahh-see-oss!

I think she was trying to say something like this:

Pero, solo tengo un cien. Quiero a aprender mas español. Gracias!

I cringed and continued to sip.

Later this afternoon I met with Luciano and Ben and we searched and searched for a place to set up the slackline. Well, unfortunately trees with space in between them were hard to come by. This is the best spot we found:


Note: Two poles. Different heights. Stairs. Glass. A half cut pipe with a sharp sharp point.


And then best of started to pour cats and dogs! We shifted the line over to the tall wooden pole in the left of this picture. However we quickly abandoned that when we almost pulled the pole (attached to someone’s house) over. Oops!

Well, we tried anyway!

(heading to the mountains tomorrow, back in a few days, will post then.)

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