South American Rainbow Beetles

South America is full of Volkswagen Beetles. I began shooting this series when Suze and I were in Montevideo. This one was shot on the Uruguay coast in Punta del Diablo, close to the Brazilian border. It's so funny to see them all everywhere. You get the feeling like there's this secret army of old-school hippies motoring around.



If you click on the photo, it'll bring you to a collection of the Beetles I've shot, mostly in Uruguay and Peru. If anyone wants to sign me up for an advertising campaign with Volkswagen, holla!

sleepers

I'm posting a bunch of old photos because I'm currently traveling.

When I first moved to New York, I loved taking photos of people sleeping on the subway. Most of the photos turned out badly because the camera I was using at the time wasn't great in low light. Then, when I upgraded to an SLR, the shutter made such a noise that it was hard to take photos on the sly. But here's one of a guy sleeping on the train to Machu Picchu.



See more of my Sleepers series here.

Beetle Series I

There are an incredible amount of Volkswagen Beetles in South America. I first began shooting them when Suze and I were in Uruguay. I have a whole collection. Because I haven't been shooting much lately, I'll share some Beetles with you this week.



I shot this mustard-colored one in Ollantaytambo, Peru, just after getting off the helicopter.

Peru Rail

This is the train to Machu Picchu. It was such a trip to get to Machu Picchu (and even a bigger trip getting out). But the train ride was so beautiful. Sticking your face out of a moving train is one of the greatest pleasures in life--something that America seems to have stripped us of with overhyped safety regulations.



The other night I met up with a kid I met on this very train. He didn't make it to Machu Picchu because of the floods. There was a critical point of decision-making that day. My brother and I made the decision to stay over night in a town halfway there while the kid returned to Cusco to start from scratch the next day. We made it; he didn't.

Stuck in Aguas Calientes

Our overnight trip to Machu Picchu turned into a week-long adventure when torrential rains caused landslides, rendered the roads into town impassable, and stranded us in Aguas Calientes for five nights. We were eventually evacuated by helicopter. I took this photo while Stuart and I were being airlifted out on the sixth day. This guy is telling us to crouch and shield our eyes as we approach the helicopter.



With each helicopter carrying only 7-25 passengers, it took a long time to evacuate some 2,000 of us. Uncooperative weather, disorganization, and the priority situation in Haiti made things even slower. Luckily Stu and I steered clear of most of the melodrama, and for the most part people were calm and peaceful. If you ever find yourself in an emergency zone, pray that it's with a bunch of hippie backpackers; they're not quite so prone to anxiety and mass hysteria.

If you click on the photo, it will take you to a set of 20 photos from the week. I was waiting on publishing these because I've been trying to sell them, but I don't think this will matter. Anyhow, this photo, along with one other, was published on Matador Trips yesterday.

the children on top of the stairs

I was pretty in awe of the children in Aguas Calientes. The town is built into a hillside, so it is steep stairs and cobblestone slants everywhere. While I am scared of eating concrete every time I take a step, these kids are chasing balls and butterflies around with fearless agility. One day we even saw two kids sharing a pair of rollerblades. They wear each wearing one rollerblade and were just tearing down this ramp and grabbing a hold of a metal rail where the ramp suddenly gave way to a drop overlooking the soccer field.



Part of me wanted to collar them as they sped by. Instead, I just watched them run back up the hill and do it again.

the iron rooster

Stuart and I went for a walk along the tracks while we were stranded in Aguas Calientes. The trail was sporadically populated with workers and hikers coming in off the Inca Trail. It's so strange to come across a steady stream of locals and foreigners in a place that feels like the middle of nowhere.



It was really hot and sunny that day, but the tunnels were cool, dark, and drippy. But see that light at the end of the tunnel? That's your weekend coming right at'cha! Sure looks lush, don't it?

the armpit of Peru

These are the phrases that people used to describe Lima when I told them I was going there: armpit, hellhole, "nothing nice." Does this look like a hellhole to you? In all the trash-talking, it had completely bypassed me that Lima is on the Pacific Ocean. I hadn't even brought a swimsuit with me.



The beach in Miraflores is my kind of armpit. A beautiful, verdant park stretches along the top of the cliff, where paragliders take off and float on the warm breezes. Our hostel--about 50 meters from the beach--was full of surfers. To be fair, Miraflores is a swankier part of town, about a 20-minute cab ride from the town's center, which is considerably more armpit-like. A cab driver told us that Lima was nice...except for, you know, these dozen neighborhoods. Then he asked me what my favorite soccer team was.

I loved Peru.

Party Market

This psychedelic scene is hidden by a few, scattered dark doorways in the Barrio Chino (Chinatown) of Lima, Peru. I almost walked right on by.



It's a maze of vendors selling centerpieces, party favors, gigantic styrofoam signs, invitations, and linens, mostly for weddings, children's birthdays, and quinceaneros (the big fifteenth birthday celebration for girls). My brother was shaking glitter off of his sleeve when we exited. Outside, though it was dark and almost 10 p.m., the streets were also filled with people shopping for food, clothes, and sundries. I wondered if all these shoppers had been working during the day, or if they just preferred to shop later at night when it is cooler--in both senses of the word.

trekkers in the mist

I really enjoyed shooting Machu Picchu before the clouds disappeared in the afternoon.



This photo was taken on January 24, which was one of the last days it was accessible to the public before the flooding took its toll. What a strange place it is. It took us so long to get there, and even longer to leave. Can you imagine how Hiram Bingham felt in 1911 when he "discovered" it way up out there? I like to imagine that feeling. It is, I think, close to the feeling you get when you fall in love.

PMTV

Stuart and I were walking back from the beach in Miraflores, a beautiful neighborhood of Lima, Peru, when we came across this highly entertaining scene.



This was just to the side of a very busy pathway leading to the beach, so other people kept stopping and staring. Apparently they were singing a well-known Catholic song. I don't remember how it goes other than there was a whole lot of God in there. Most people just slowed their pace as they passed by, eyes wide; teenagers burst into their own rendition of the song as they walked by with their friends; some stood and stared and asked us what they were doing. We could only imagine. It was a family of six (or seven, if the videographer was a member of the clan). They had two younger boys watching on. They were dancing up a storm in their matching pink outfits on that sweaty day.

Anyhow, I feel like this photo kind of symbolizes our entire trip to Peru. More on this later.