Salar de Uyuni - Part Two

An earlish start but not as early as before. We actually had a good breakfast of coffee and pancakes instead of the usual drier than the Atacama desert pieces of bread. Our first stop was to be an area with bizarre rock formations. Lot´s of bizarre rocks were set against a background of beautiful, spice coloured mountains. Some people had been camping there and it was cold there when we got there so it must´ve been absolutely freezing to stay there the night. The same people camping had been cycling through the park - that would´ve been such a struggle, there´s almost no facilities whatsoever! Moving away from the barrenness we were on our way to a group of lakes - five of them. Each were as equally beautiful as the next. Perfect reflections, beautiful backgrounds and gorgeous scenery surrounding them. In a number of them were flamingos and we managed to get quite close to them before Colin chased after them trying to flap his hands and arms like bird´s wings. On one of our stops an Andean Fox was pointed out to us. It was quite beautiful but would only get within a certain distance. The journey continues......we drive into the heart of one of the deserts and some pretty bad roads. At one point we´re rocking so much I almost hit my head on the window!!! We were taken to an area of exceptional beautiful with strange rock formations and a smoking volcano in the background - it was stunning and Colin´s first sight of a smoking volcano. We had lunch in the same place and continued onwards to our final destination - The Salar de Uyni, the largest salt flats in the world and one of the highlights of our trip.

Passing through a number of areas, including a small salt flat area, we picked a local Bolivian lady that would´ve been walking for days if we´d not come along. She was tiny and very cute and very childlike. She giggled a lot and babbled a lot and we had a bit of a chat before dropping her off near to our final hospedaje. The small hosepedaje was made out of salt and surprisingly warm in comparison to our previous, freezing, dump. We had a great, elevated view of the entrance to the Salar de Uyuni and the sun setting created beautiful pink colours.

Again, up early as our driver want to speed his way to get there before everyone else. We heading into the middle of the Salar to catch the sunrise. We weren´t disappointed. It was very cold but eventually the sun rose with beautiful colours, catching the patterns in the Salar magnificently. Our driver sped towards an island called Isla de Pescadores which is covered in cacti. You really can see that the salt flats were originally a vast lake with islands to match. The island itself is beautiful with great views of the pure, white salt flats and cacti all over, some as big as twenty metres. Just after we got onto the island the crowds soon started to arrive and we were very grateful to our driver that we had a little bit of time to ourselves there. After a nice but rather cold breakfast we took a walk on to the salt flats away from all the crowds. Journeying further into the centre, we came across areas of holes in the salt and you could see all the way down to the water that´s below it. We had to be careful in areas as there were lots of cracks and at anytime one could fall in. I edged Colin ever closer to one of the holes in the hope that I could finally get rid of him, once and for all but my plan was thwarted. A while was spent in this area and we got some stupid photos, most notably, me driving a shoe. There is no reference for perspective here so lots of travellers take silly photos of them doing silly things.

This was to be the end of an amazing journey. Possibly the best adventure experience so far. Our guides were fantastic as was the scenery and already we´ve been talking about coming back some time soon. On our way to our final end, Uyuni, Colin and I start to get a little bit emotional and almost cry. Fucking Queens! We say an emotional goodbye to our guides and we´re on our own, again.

Salar de Uyni - Part One

We woke up in the morning to a town without electricity so going to the toilet and having a shower in the dark proved some what to be eventful. After madly packing our stuff, we headed out to our tour company to grab the next jeep across the Salar de Uyuni. We were a bit nervous as to who our companions would be for the next five days as we´d seen quite a few strange people booking tours the day before. When we turned gushingly overly friendly lady informed us that our possible companions had not turned up and offered us our own private tour at a knock down price. We decided to take it and after a good hours wait, our jeep turned up and we met the driver and cook. The two of them seemed lovely. The drive took us through some pretty bad roads, up mountains until we the view opened up overlooking what was pretty similar to Bryce Canyon. After numerous photos and lots of "wows" we continued onwards in our comfortable jeep. Some of the other tour groups had up to five people in their jeeps and they did not look comfy! While we were driving we got to know our guides and managed to understand them. On our drive we passed through many more canyons until the landscape flattened out a bit.

After a couple of hours we stopped off for lunch. We were in a little valley full of Llamas. They were everywhere, grazing and chilling. We jumped out and took a walk amongst them. They´re all quite different, some being cute and some being ugly. After running around screaming and trying to scare the lovely llamas we were called back to our jeep for what was a lovely lunch. The best bit of it was some Tamales which are basically mashed up corn balls with vegetables and llama meat in the middle. They were delicious. While having lunch another jeep on the same tour pulled up near to us which two flat tires. Unlucky. Our driver had to help them and after about half an hour we were back on our way. The road took us through beautiful canyons reminiscent of the American southwest. We also passed through a number of cute little villages made solely of mud bricks. The drive was long and we eventually arrived at our destination just before sunset and had coffee and very nice biscuits which Colin gorged himself on. Our hospedaje is incredibly basic but functional and the town is set in a beautiful location. We catch the sunset over the mountains and then head back for dinner. Melba, our lovely cook had obviously thought she was cooking for ten people as she brings out a huge amount of food which we will not be able to eat. We attempt our best but the meat she gives us is like old worn rubber and we have to try and hide it under the rest of our food to not look ungrateful. We get an early night as we've got to get up at four in the morning as it´s a very long long drive tomorrow and our longest day.

We wake up horribly tired and grumpy and sit down and have some breakfast. The bread given to us has obviously been sat out in the Andean sun for the past two weeks as it´s so stale and inedible. We set off in the dark and our driver, Marcos, warns us that the roads are pretty terrible for the first half of the day. He´s not kidding! Our first stop after passing beautiful scenery lit by the rising sun is an abandoned village not too dissimilar to Macchu Piccu. We have a little walk around and then head off again through mountains that look like naked bodies and are very sexual, to mountains that look like ice cream, meringues and food - the scenery is absolutely fantastic. Colin and I are starting to get very hungry and Melba, our cook notices and gives us chocolate biscuits to shut us up. The scenery continues to change and becomes every more arid and desert like as we pass over a summit and a view on to a beautiful, aquamarine lake with flamingos opens out in front of us. The lake is punctuated with areas of pure white, a powder known as Borax. We try to get close the flamingos but they ain´t having none of it and we give up and continue onwards to another lake, full of Borax where men are working to extract it. It is an unbelievable white and we have to wear our sunglasses to look at it.

The drive was long but the roads started to get better. The scenery was beautiful passing through more lakes, mountains and deserts all as different as the last. One of the highlights of the drive is an area with thermal baths, that to me looks like paradise and a mountain of seven colours which looks like chocolate and vanilla ice cream. Eventually after sore as'´s later we arrived at Laguna Verde. The lake is a shimmering aquamarine-green reminiscent of the Caribbean with a beautiful volcano rising behind it - it's stunning. The colour of the lake is due to a number of minerals in the water - arsenic being one. Our guides seem to be rushing us and only give us fifteen minutes and we can´t understand why. We get a little annoyed but it´s a long day and we´ve still got a lot to see. We return to the thermal baths and are told that we can have a quick swim before lunch. Upon looking in the thermals baths, the amount of gringos was not dissimilar to a walrus colony and a lot of them looked like walruses. We decided to give it a miss and relax in one of the most beautiful areas we´d ever been in. Lunch was another huge affair and Melba had laid out a whole table and I was quite embarrassed by how much food was there. The meat again, was like salty rubber but not as bad as the previous nights. On our way to our final destination we passed an area of geysers and boiling mud. It looked like the moon and smelt like a toilet after Colin´s used it as the sulphuric fumes were quite strong (Well that's charming ain't it, I let him have a go at the blog and what do I get? Abuse! -Colin). Heading to our final destination we passed into an extremely arid desert - an extension of the Atacama. The scenery was barren an it was difficult to find beauty in it. Onwards, again, we headed to Laguna Colorada - another lagoon coloured red by bacteria in the afternoon. It didn´t take us long to get there and before touring the lake, we checked into our hospedaje. Again, it was basic and it looked like we´d have to share a room with a couple of others. After Colin and I scoffing biscuits and coffee we headed to the lagoon. It is an unbelievable colour punctuated by areas of white Borax and is surrounded by beautiful mountains. We have quite a bit of time here on our own as our driver races, overtakes and drives so fast to each place so that we can enjoy it on our own for a while before the hordes of jeeps join us. Our cook seems to have finally worked out that we can´t eat enough for 10 people and gives us a perfect amount to eat. The hosepdaje is so cold it´s untrue. We have to play cards in ten layers and sleeping bags and it´s still fucking cold! There´s lots of loud gringos staying there too and we decide to call it a night.

The Train Journey from Hell..........

Up early for another bus ride to take us to Oruro where we then are catching a train to Tupiza. I'm starting to think that I'm a bit of a masochist. Put me on a comfy bus with reclining seats and sod me if I can sleep; however stick me on an old charabanc with no tyres, suspension, windows, seats or steering wheel and blow me if I'm not sparko within ten minutes. Strange innit.

So forgive me if I don't launch into long prose concerning the beauty of the countryside whilst travelling by bus, the truth is I've missed most of it, apart from the odd glimpse I get on being awoken by Ad for either excessive
dribbling, snoring or passing bottom burps.

We have booked first class tickets for the train journey which although in distance is only just over 200km (125 miles) actually takes 13 hours... yes that's less than 10 miles an hour... one could almost walk faster... but there is no other way of getting there. Strangely the Andean countries all seem to like doing overnight journeys for long distances ( no don't laugh) which arrive really early in the morning, like 4 or 5am... hey ho as I say we have no choice.

The train sets off, at snail's pace, dead on time and we crawl through the suburbs of Oruro. Ten minutes later and we are in deserty, marshlandy, lakey sort of country and we get our first sight of flamingos congregated in some water; unfortunately they are so far away that to be honest they could have been those plastic ones that posh people put in their ponds.. but we reason that it's very unlikely that someone has gone out and bought a thousand plastic flamingos to plant in the countryside... mind you I bet they would have got a good discount buying so many.. or they could have been on special offer... buy one get one free.

The journey continues and unfortunately the sun sets within a couple of hours so scenery there is none. The trains has a buffet car and we retire their for our slap up meal that comes as free when one has purchased first class tickets. The car is nothing posh but as we survey the fayre that is place before the other dining passengers we start to salivate as we hand over our free meal vouchers. Twenty minutes later and we receive our lavish meal...lavish meal my arse... we have been given turkey fucking twizzlers and chips... what the fuck is that! All the other passengers have huge halves of chicken or steaks the size of car tyres... we have some manky old burnt to death slice of something accompanied by a spoon full of rice and a couple of vegetables from a tin. I is feeling aggrieved. Apparently the other diners have paid extra for their meals and we have been given the bog standard first class slop. Anyway all was not lost as we ate the free meal then ordered one of the better ones... which was delicious. We also were served wine: hot wine. I don't think it was supposed to be hot, but it was.. not warm - hot. Interesting especially for a white wine. OOOOOOOOOOOOh what snobs we are!!!!

Anyway, with little else to do, we retired back to our seats, reclined and attempted to sleep. All was quiet and peaceful for many hour only the gentle chugga chugga chugga noise of the train slide over the rail. Then all of a sudden there is a piercing, shrieking, screaming sound of metal grinding upon metal.... jeez what the fuck is that... the screeching carries on for at least a minute and then there is a smash and a bang and the train comes to a halt. All the other passengers are nice and calm and there seems no need to panic, but obviously something has gone wrong. The conductor comes on the tannoy and kindly explains everything in Spanish, unfortunately we don't understand a word. A kindly Bolivian tells us that there is something wrong with the engine, which considering that my eardrums were nearly perforated by the glass shattering noise, I had already guessed. Anyway everybody just settles back down to sleep and it looks like we are stuck here - wherever that is - in the middle of nowhere for the foreseeable future.

Dawn breaks and we are still on the train. The conductor opens the door and we climb out for a desperately needed fag. We are in the middle of a desert. We wander to the front of the train and discover that the engine, on trying to navigate a tight curve in the track has actually derailed and struck the side of a sheer rock face. Oh dear. I start to panic as I see the vultures circling above and imagine my bleached skeleton picked of all flesh being discovered by some random Llama herder. Ad slaps me round the face and brings me to my senses. I thank him and he slaps me again, for good luck he says. I'll have a bruise there. I make a note to call ´boy-friend line when I return to the UK.

Around the corner comes another train engine. The workmen, decouple our engine and then shunts us back a couple of miles up the line to wait whilst the engineers try to re-rail our train. Again we are in the middle of nowhere but just beside the tracks is a deserted one horse town made of mud, where obviously people lived at one time but now is just decaying and rotting in the sun. Spooky.

Alls well that ends well, though, and with in a few hours our train engine rejoins us and finally brings us in to our destination 8 hours later than scheduled. Twenty one hours to go 125 miles.... oooh the joys of travelling.

Tupiza is a lovely little town, isolated and hours away from anywhere else and in relatively close proximity to the borders with Chile and Argentina. This is the gateway to some of the most gorgeously diverse landscapes in the whole country. In the evening there is some sort of fiesta taking place and the town is absolutely crawling with people. Everywhere music is playing and hundreds of people are dressed in different ´tribal´native costumes and parading along the streets to the sounds of brass bands, drums or recorded music. After a few hours watching the parades we retire to our hostel as in the morning we embark on a four day jeep tour.....

La Paz

After a fantastically isolated night on the Isla del Sol we decide to return to the mainland and make our way to the Bolivian capital La Paz. Whilst booking our bus ticket in Copacabaña we get chatting to an Australian girl who had already been to the capital four of five times previously. She imparted some jolly good advise on places to go and things to do - the sort of places that are not in the guide books!! Her summation of LA Paz was that it is all three tenses of the word corrupt - corrupted, corrupt and corrupting!! Sounds fun.

After a five hour journey through countryside that teased us with glimpses of distant mountains but revealed less than one anticipated - a bit like watching a 1960s porn movie - we arrived at the sprawling outskirts of the capital city. La Paz is vast and at 3600m above sea level is the highest capital in the world. As previously noted Bolivia is the poorest country in South America, this is most notably evidenced by the infrastructure of the country. In places there are no roads, just dirt tracks, I kind of expected that in the countryside but on the approach to the city, to see the roads that branched off the main one being churned up mud paths brought home to me the seriousness of the poverty here: with few financial resources roads are a bit of a luxury and certainly play second fiddle to sanitation, electricity and clean water.

The outskirts are poor and ugly and one feels that maybe this is going to be a mistake coming here, then as the main road rounds a corner we are rewarded with a fantastic panoramic view of La Paz's rambling, lounging urban sprawl. The buildings stretch far into the distance and cling ominously to the huge surrounding mountain sides: it truly is an awesome approach to a city.

The bus chugs into the centre and the traffic is absolutely chaotic. We talk about grid lock at home but here the word could have been invented, it is absolutely choca, with each vehicle greedily invading every spare inch that appears. In the centre of every junction traffic police are blowing whistles and gesticulating furiously trying to keep some order; from what I can tell no one is taking a blind bit of notice and we creep on inch by inch amid the screams of police warbles and a crescendo of tooting horns - why drivers are beeping when there is no where the vehicles in front can go, is beyond me, but it all adds to the atmosphere.

After arriving at our hotel we go out to explore and seek out some of the tips we have received from the Australian girl. There is one bar, Route 36, that is supposed to be party town, but no-one seems to know where it is, or how to get there. After a couple of hours search, a taxi driver drops us off out front of what looks like someones house, no sign or nothing. We ring the bell and I half expect some old lady in her nightie and curlers to open the door and tell us to "piss off!". However the door creaks open and we are welcomed by a giant of a bouncer who shows us down a flight of stairs. The bar is like a private members club, with strict access from the street. This is the first time for 5 weeks that we have really been able to let our hair down and get totally mashed. Eight hours later we stumble out of the bar, a little worse for wear and grateful for some good old Bolivian hospitality.

With tumping headaches, unpredictable bowels and guts that are doing somersaults the next morning/afternoon we venture out to explore the city. Just round the corner we have a witches market where all kinds of potions and herbs are being sold which are supposed to bring good luck, good health and/or add a couple of inches to your penis!! (Needless to say, I bought a party pack size of the ultimate one..... err to give to friends of course!!). Most bizarrely there are hundreds of dead Llama foetuses for sale which apparently locals bury under the porches of newly built homes to bring good fortune.... not so fortunate for the Llama though.

Unfortunately we have decided to only stay in La Paz for two nights and as we got totally smashed the first night we neglected to see some of the other attractions. One of these which would have been fantastically different is an unofficial trip to the local prison San Pedro. Apparently you can go on a tour where the prison guards are bribed to let you in and you can spend the afternoon chatting with the prisoners. The prison is run on corruption where if you have money you can rent out a more luxurious cell which is more like a hotel, most of the gringos that have been incarcerated on drugs charges are living there where it is said that if they weren't they just wouldn't survive in the main prison. I wished we had seen that, it would have been an unforgettable experience.

However we are in a rush to get out of big city and go see some of the beautiful Bolivian countryside and landscapes. We arrange to take a train journey down to Tupiza, in the south, where we are going on a four day jeep trip to see volcanoes, lakes, geysers, mountains, flamingos and lots of Llamas.

Lake Titicaca

We are in Copacabaña, nestling on the shores of Lake Titicaca. It's a little piece of Gringo hell, very touristy and full of foreigners, but pleasant enough. Immediately we go down to the Lake shore and try to book tickets for the boat that will take us over to Isla del Sol, in the middle of the Lake, where we plan to stay for a night or two.

The sun is beating down as we board, and a tinge of apprehension squeezes my stomach as I have never been on a boat without throwing my guts up...ooh the embarrassment at the thought of spewing into one of the most beautiful Lakes in the world. Never mind eh.

The boat sets off. There are two sides to the Island that we are going, North and South. We have purchased tickets to go to the South, with the North being approximately 10 Km further away. The water is a bit choppy and the boat chugs away at walking speed. Some people on the journey are just going to the Island for a half day trip. Once almost half way there, the driver informs us that he is only going to the North part and those on the day trip will only get an hour on the Island. Oh dear, doesn't seem like much time for the day-trippers, and we are going to the wrong bit. After a little haggling and Ad starting to lose his temper the driver agrees to stop off in the South.

We pull up at a little tiny jetty about 500m away from the main docking point. Thankful that I haven't puked, we now have to clamber out of the boat onto the jetty, which is about 3 foot higher than the boat, then walk along a tightrope of an approach then along, what looks to me like a piece of warped, splintered twisted piece of 2 x1 plank, all with our backpacks on...and with a ten foot drop on either side. Why is nothing simple. I'm not too steady on my feet at the best of times ... Ad thinks I have a lack of co-ordination... and am forever nearly falling arse over tit. Like a drunk Houdini traversing a bit of string over the Niagara cascades I toppled and twisted, leaned and teetered, tripped and stumbled succesfully over the obstacle of death and sighed a sigh of relief as the snapping crocodiles circling in the depths below dispersed empty mouthed as I surmounted the crumbling banks of surrounding ground. (Note to self: stop exaggerating you are not Indiana Jones!!)

Isla del Sol is an isolated beautiful Island that rises up with near vertiginous cliffs, 2 hours off the shore of Copacabaña. The elevation is around 3800 metres so the air is thin and the sun beams down on an arid and parched landscape. To reach our accommodation there is a 30 minute walk up the side of the shoreline hills. Whilst the paths are ziggy zaggy, the effort in climbing with full back-packs is somewhat tiring on the old lallies. Two young local boys offer to show us to our hostel and to carry our packs. We politely decline the offer of bag carrying, insisting that we will be ok climbing up. Five minutes later with legs about to fall off and all the danger signs of an imminent heart attack through lack of oxygen we capitulate and let the youngster take over the donkey work as we try to catch our breathe and watch them practically run up the impossible steep slope.

The Island is gorgeously barren, and as we approach the summit of the baked earth slopes and turn to view our surroundings, the true immensity and tranquility of the Lake washes over us and envelopes our sense of wonderment and good fortune at being here. The Lake stretches further that the eye can see; deep blue, like the Mediterranean sea; no noise, just the sound of buzzing flies and the distant bleating of some sheep; on the horizon, back on the mainland, the dramatic craggy snow-capped mountains of the Cordierlla Real punctuate the moody remote skyline; the sun is beating down; this for me is a paradisaical fallow landscape, I love the quiet, I love the barrenness, I love the fascinating attractiveness of this prodigious expanse of freshwater Lake.

The Road To Bolivia

Today we are off to Bolivia. The overnight bus leaves at 10 in the evening and we have to change in a small town called Puno, at 5 in the morning. The bus is supposed to be a semi- cama, which basically means it should be a bit better than the normal buses, with TV, reclining seats, more leg-room and a toilet on board. Yeah right. We are seated downstairs. Next to the toilet. It stinks of shit. The windows open about a 1/16 of an inch. I feel rather bilious and Ad goes a delightful shade of green.

The bus pulls off and the conductor type person closes a door between us and the loo. The stench begins to abate. Unfortunately due to being nigh on hermetically sealed in a tin can with 30 other people, heating on full blast, with no air conditioning or windows that open properly the heat accumulating inside is absolutely stifling. We are supposed to be able to sleep on these buses... I can hardly breathe. For seven hours I'm gasping for oxygen, stripped down to my underpants surounded by 30 snoring, farting, belching, sweaty travellers that are breathing my air!! To top it all I'm dying for a pee and a pooh but there is no way I'm going to submit myself to the nauseating stench of that toilet. I'm now just hoping I can hold on and don't shit myself... that would really top it all!!!

Seven hours later we arrive in Puno. Buttocks clenched we disembark. I am so full of gas you could tie a piece of string round my leg and float me like a Zeppelin. As the bags are being unloaded I surreptitiously wander 20 yards away and let the voluminous accumulation rip forth. I over hear a fellow passenger make comment that he can hear the a Salvation Army band approaching; I kid you not its not easy farting to the tune of Onward Christian Soldiers.

Slightly relieved that I haven't actually shit myself but still desperately needing the loo, I go and find Ad, who is also in need of bowel evacuation. We enter the bus terminal and charge for the toilet. Unfortunately the plumbing systems in the Andean countries leave a lot to be desired; the pipe work can just about cope with a normal size pooh and you are not allowed to put toilet paper down the bowl, one places it in a bucket next to the loo. When we get to the public toilet there is a massive queue and only two loos working. Ad enters the first cubicle only to make a quick exit; apparently the previous user had left an enormous present behind and the flush wasn't working - there is a second bucket which one is supposed to fill with water in order to use for flushing purposes. This on top of the fact that none of the cubicles had locks and the possibility of vomiting all over the floor due to the malodorous perfume, made the thought of going just a tad concerning. We made a quick exit in search of another toilet. There was none. On the second floor of the terminal was a sort of hotel renting out rooms within the terminal. We balked a little at the price but when one has to go one doesn't mind what you pay. So we rented a room that cost 35 Soles (7pound) just so that we could relieve ourselves. It's the most expensive shit I have ever had but the relief was immense and worth every penny.


Puno is on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, one of the highest lakes in the world, and as the sun rises we get our first glimpse of this massive expanse of water. As we arrived just beyond the terminal there is a massive party going on due to it being Puno's birthday. All the towns people seem to be in attendance and seeing as its early morning appear a little worse for wear. Ad and I take a little wander down to the waters edge being careful not to trip over the sprawled drunken bodies that are littered everywhere. The Lake is beautiful and stretches further than the eye can see.

We catch our connecting bus at 7am that will take us directly through to Bolivia and the little hamlet of Copacabaña. We are a bit concerned about entering Bolivia, especially as there has been a lot of political unrest in recent months which culminated in rioting and some deaths. President Evo Morales has been seeking to bring in a new constitution which is envisaged will help in the redistribution of wealth. Obviously those with the money are not too keen on this idea. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America.

The journey continued around the Lake to the border. The bus company were really helpful, issuing the document that we needed to complete for exiting Peru and entering Bolivia. All goes smoothly for us and the Bolivian officials are courteous if a little stern. There is a big picture of El Presidente, one of my present day heroes, hanging in the customs office and I have a tinge of excitement that we are now in a democratically elected socialist-leaning governed country. I like Bolivia already.

Machu Picchu Pueblo

We arrive back from Machu Picchu full of rapture of having seen a magnificent sight. Aguas Calientes is a four street town that basically just caters for the thousands of tourists that come through there every week. We hit the town for a celebratory evening. The only thing worth mentioning about the town is that every other restaurant/bar does special offers... buy one drink and get three free!!! My kind of town.

Whilst the town is a little bit boring we met a coupe of characters during the evening. One of these was a lovely Peruvian woman who we had seen earlier in the day, standing outside her restaurant. Whenever any one came within 20 foot of the entrance she would jump up and down pointing to her sign of 4 drinks for the price of one. She didn't say anything or shout out to the approaching customers but kept gesticulating with such vigour that she looked like she was having a fit. We succumbed to her persuasions and after a truly awfully meal, a lovely chat with her where for some reason she wanted our email addresses, and 4 drinks each we left her establishment for the next bar.

Here we ordered another four drinks and after a couple of sips was approached by a drunken Peruvian singing and dancing to the alternative British music playing in the background. He was all over the place but sat himself down next to us and started slurring greetings all over us. He could hardly speak but was very amusing and congenial. HE wanted to know what we were drinking and after some persuasion insisted on buying us a drink. It turns out he was the owner of the bar and on giving us the drinks told us this was the good stuff and not the old shit they usually give everyone.

After the fourth bar and goodness knows how many drinks we staggered home. It's pissing down with rain and we meet up with 'gesticulating woman' again. As we cross a bridge she tells us to watch our step just at the same time as I go flying in the air, arse over tit. One did feel a fool. And I'm sure that I've chipped a bone on my elbow as it don't half bleeding hurt.

The next evening we head back to Cusco and make arrangements to catch an overnight bus that will take us to Lake Titicaca in Bolivia.

Machu Pichu

Up at 5am in order to catch the train at 6.30am to one of the sights that we have been looking forward to the most , Machu Picchu. As I have already said the train is quite expensive but luxury, there is none. The seats are in groups of four and you are literally knee to knee with the person opposite... nice and comfortable. We seem to be in a carriage with some circus side show entertainers. One guy walks past with a neck so thick he must take at least a size 30 inch collar. When we take our seat we are sitting opposite a German fella with the longest head I have ever seen, it must be two foot long from chin to top and is resting on a neck that is at least another foot; it's like sitting opposite a giraffe at Gerry Cottells.

The train journey is not that exciting and after 3 hours my legs feel ready to drop off. However on the final hour we descend into some great scenery. Towering jungle covered mountains surround us on either side and we start to get excited at seeing one of the wonders of the world.

We arrive in Agua Calientes, a very small town that is nestled in a gorge 20 minutes drive from the Inca site. We have accommodation booked in the town but unfortunately we have not bought the name or the address of the hostal. Oooops. Anyway it all works out well as we get an even cheaper place to stay from a lady waiting at the station. We dump our stuff with the intention of getting to the bank, drawing some cash and heading off to the ruins. We find the only cash point in town... it doesn't work!!! And it is Saturday and the bank is closed til Monday. We have just enough money to pay for the room. We ask if there is another ATM but there isn't. We go into several shops that have advertised that they change money... they won´t do a Visa transaction. We go to the Machu Picchu ticket office to see if they accept cards... they don't. The entrance fee is 120 Soles each and the bus to get there cost another 40 Soles each. We need 320 Soles to go to the site... we have 90 Soles on us. Fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!! I can't believe that we have been so stupid as to come all this way and not have the money to see this magnificent site. We go back to our hostal and explain the situation. She very kindly leads us all round the town trying to get a shop owner or restaurant to do a Visa transaction and give us the cash. No one will do it. After an hour the lady says that our only option is to stay there until Monday when the bank opens!!! After she leaves us we both feel like crying... it's a beautiful day and we are 20 minutes away from one of the most spectacular sights in the world ...and we can't go.















Adrian, my hero, starts to get angry and says there is no way that he is going to accept this situation. He marches down the main street, full of restaurants and shops, and goes into every one asking if they will do a transaction for us... on about the fifth try one lady says yes!!!! We have to pay her a 10% commission but at least we have some money!!! Yihaaa, Ad saved the day.
The weather is gorgeous, blue sky interspersed with big fluffy ice cream clouds. We rush to the ticket office to buy our passes for the site - it is now 2pm and the site closes at about 5.30pm -there are six people in front of us, the old man behind the counter is obviously on some sort of medication as the simple task of issuing tickets at anything approaching speed seems impossible for him to cope with. There's nothing worse than wanting to get somewhere quickly and being held up by officious incompetence. We are finally issued our passes after having to nudge the old man awake with a stick three times. We race to the bus stop. There's another big queue. The person at the front is buying what seems like a hundred tickets and wants to pay with pennies. Oooh the frustration!!! Our bus arrives and a kindly gringo, who was a few people in front of us in the queue, holds the bus up for us so that we embark just in the nick of time. It's tough work all this sight seeing.

The bus makes a steep ascent clinging to the side of a mountain. All around us are monumentally huge tombstone-like eruptions of forest clad elevations. This really starts to feel like the deepest darkest Peru that you read about. I'm sure Paddington's Auntie could be close by. After 20 minutes of zigzagging backwards and forwards on this near vertical incline we reach the entrance to this sacred site. We have all seen the pictures before and I really wanted my first sight to be that fantastic view that looks down on the village with the massive protuberance of a mountain encompassing the background, so I shielded my eyes until we came to a part that gave such a view. It truly is a fantastically awesome panorama. The site is built on a levelled mountain platform with two humongous elevations rising from the back of the construction. The village is at about 2500m elevation with the back mountains must be at least another 200m above that. On top of the highest point, which just seems to defy any logical concepts of construction are further structures, there seems to be no way of getting to these points let alone building on there. Machu Picchu is a fantastic, mystical phenomena, we explored most of the site viewing the reconstructed building and climbing to the top of some of the terracing to receive an even better viewpoint. Words can't properly describe the beauty that this construction has or even the sense of wonderment that one has when trying to fathom how the hell the materials for these building were transported and carried up these sheer, isolated heights over 600 years ago. Machu Picchu really is one of the new seven wonders of the world.

Peru and Cusco!!!!

Well smack my bottom with a Woman's Weekly!!! We are in Peru....Yihaaaaaaaaaaaaa! We finally took delivery of the replacement cameras on Monday and made a quick exit from Ecuador on Tuesday morning. Thank baby jesus and big jesus with the beard! We are finally on the move again.

We have had to make some hard decisions, we are running 2 weeks behind schedule and should really be in Bolivia now. Seeing as the weather has not been great for mountain scenery we have decided to skip a 5 day trek we had planned around Santa Cruz and also to miss out some of the South of Peru and hopefully, if we make some time up, visit there when we return to catch our flight to Panama in February.

Tuesday we catch a bus that takes us over the border. We have heard some real horror stories regarding the Peruvian side... muggings, kidnappings, scams and basically rip off the gringo whenever possible. Obviously we are a tad apprehensive. We have caught an international bus but are unsure of what the procedures are at the border. Lonely Planet says that you have to get off the bus and walk or get a taxi, once you have completed Ecuadorian exit requirements , to the Peruvian Immigration office 2 km away...and this is where you run the gauntlet of crooks, thieves, murderers and rapists!! I'm scared!

Once we approach the border we see the stretch of 'no man's land' that we have to navigate... it's 2Km of ram packed chockablock swarm of people ...our hearts sink. However we don't have to get off the bus and we sail through devils alley with no problems what so ever. We is in Peru!!!

MY first personal task is to find Paddington Bear's Auntie in order to pass on the dreadful news that Paddington is now eating Marmite. Meanwhile we head to our first destination Puira, purely a stopover on our mammoth 1500km journey to Cusco and Machu Picchu.














A slight digression....we send our heart felt thanks to Jess and Jonny for informing us that the squirrel that mugged Adrian is, in the photo, in a somewhat state of excited arousal. Being mugged by a squirrel is one thing but being raped by a squirrel is an altogether different matter. We obviously have done the correct thing and visited a family planning clinic in order to obtain the morning after pill. Unfortunately none were available and I held Ad's hand as he wee'd on a pregnancy test stick. We can now exclusively reveal that Adrian is expecting squittens!!!















Puira is a nice enough town, the people are really friendly and there seems to be a bit more variety of food than in Ecuador. But this is just a place for us to sleep before taking a 14 hour overnight bus ride to Lima where we are catching a flight down to Cusco.

The bus ride is fantastic. We have seats that are like armchairs and that almost fully recline, we are served food and drinks and have videos played. It is like riding business class on a bus.. and it only cost 20 pounds. We catch our flight and finally arrive in Cusco on Thursday after 2 days of travelling.

Cusco is a beautiful town full of terracotta roof-tiled colonial architecture, cobbled streets and surrounded by sensuously undulating mountains. The place has an abundance of gringos, due to its proximity to Machu Picchu, but whilst serving the needs of the tourists hasn't totally sold out and become a one trick pony town. The town is vast and spread out, and up, amongst the surrounding hills. This is the best town we have visited so far with it's beautifully laid out squares and imposing churches. At 3000 metres above sea level the air is a bit thin and it can prove a little difficult to breathe especially when going up hills but, taken easily, even my dried-up, withered old lungs are able to cope. Altitude sickness is a real problem at this height and it is advised to take things slowly for a couple of days, eating only a little and drinking no alcohol. Arriving home drunk that evening after a 10 course meal we started to think that they may have a point. Never mind, have another fag.














Our first day we spend meandering around the windy cobbled streets taking in the atmosphere and observing some of the great buildings, many of which have been built on top of Inca ruin foundations. We find the rail station to book our tickets to go to Machu Picchu which is about 4 hours away. I cant believe the price!! Over 300 Soles (60 squid)!!! Considering you can get a 3 course meal for about 12 Soles and the 14 hour bus ride we had only cost 100 Soles, I think this is a bit of a rip off.... but there is no other way of getting there, they have us by the knackers.

The following day we get up early and go exploring. The town is full of hustle and bustle and we stumble upon a food market. The majority of the undercover stalls are managed by women dressed in tradition dress, selling every herb, spice, vegetable, pulse, bean and meat that you can think of. One woman is selling live frogs in a bucket (the frogs, not her) which she studiously keeps from hopping out with a sharp tape on the escapees nose. We see the cheapest meal being served, at the eating section, that we have seen to date, 2.50 Soles (50p) for 2 courses, unfortunately we have only just eaten. Further down we come across the meat section which is selling every part of a cow that is possible, tripe, brain, tongue, eyeball and nose and mouth (teeth still attached). Not sure what you do with cow nostril but they seemed to be selling well.

In the afternoon we venture up to an Inca ruins just outside of Cusco. At the entrance we are greeted by loads of women dressed in traditional colourful dress walking their Llamas. Ad takes the opportunity to take some snaps. The ruins themselves are a little disappointing but one definitely gets the feel of how this city would have looked back in it's day. The huge stone blocks that are left apparently weigh up to 300 tonnes each, so I don´t suppose they chucked them up in a rush.

Today is Halloween and when we return to the Cusco we are stunned by the amount of people on the street. It feels like the whole of the population is out and about with their kids all dressed up in spooky costumes and carrying little plastic pumpkin lanterns brim full with sweeties. The atmosphere is electric with screams and shouts of excited children. It is obviously a big thing here and it was great to sit in a restaurant above the main square, drinking a few beers and watching the scenes below.

Tomorrow we are up early for what should be one of the highlights of the whole trip..... Machu Picchu.