Jul 2009

Today was a cause for celebration.

Not only was it exactly six months to the day since we left the UK at Heathrow Airport.

Not only was it our second wedding anniversary.

But we finally, with only five days remaining on this trip completed our “must do” list which had formed the basis for everywhere we had been to.

The “must do” list of experiences and sights we had wanted to see before setting off were:

The Great Wall Of China
The Forbidden City
The Terracotta Army
The Pearl Tower in Shanghai
Angkor Watt
Uluru
Sydney Opera House
Sydney Harbour Bridge
Swimming in the Great Barrier Reef
Seeing the Moai on Easter Island
Going on a boat in Iguazu Falls
Seeing Machu Picchu
Visiting Lake Titicaca

While some of the experiences and sights we have seen on the trip have surpassed some of our “must do” items, it was this hit list that determined the general route we were going to take. And the final item on the list, which we had always planned to attempt to do on our anniversary, was to take a flight over the Nazca Lines!

Strangely enough, neither sets of our parents had ever heard of the Nazca Lines. Which was strange because it’s been a lifelong fascination for both of us since being small children (for me since the age of six and for Mandy who knows – her memory doesn’t extend longer than four months and she’s already forgotten where she lives in the UK!).

The Nazca Lines, for the uninitiated, are a series of ancient lines and drawings on the floor of the desert around Nazca. It is only possible to see these from the air, and as such remained unknown until the 1920’s when airplane pilots flying over the region discovered them.

For me, growing up in the seventies and eighties, there was always the fascination that they had been created to communicate with extra-terrestrials, and this theory persists to this day (mainly through complete UFO wackos, but each to their own!). Nowadays, the predominant theory as to why they were created was to please the Gods (in particular the mountain close to Nazca which was revered as a God) and that they were made so that only the God could see them from on high.

Anyway, history lesson over. So, having gorged ourselves senseless on the breakfast buffet, we were picked up at 11am at our hotel, and transported in a car to the small airport in Nazca.

Several companies operated from this airport, all selling just flights over the lines, and the constant noise of small aircraft taking off and landing filled the air.

The airport was quite busy; it seemed like everyone was wanting to fly today. So, having arrived in the airport at 11:10 am, we had to sit and wait.

And wait………

And wait………

The girl who was representing Mystery Peru (the agency we had booked the tickets through) kept coming to us and saying we’d be on in ten minutes. Obviously ten minutes came and went without any sign of us boarding a plane. Which was bad, as Mandy was nervous about flying in such a small plane anyway, so the delays were adding to her nerves!

But, at last, as the clock turned to 12:40pm, we were told our flight was here so off we went to complete our “must do” list!

Our plane was a six seater Cessner,

and our seats were in the back of the plane.

So, strapped in and raring to go, the pilot started the engine,

we taxied down the runway

and then we were off!

I’d been telling Mandy before we set off that there’d be very little movement on the plane when we set off, and that it’d be the smoothest ride in a plane she’d ever had. Basing this on my extensive experience of a one hour flying lesson, I was surprisingly, massively wrong!

The plane didn’t fly across the sky, it bumped across it! It seemed like every small pocket of air was knocking the plane every which way but forwards and straight! Mandy, who was on photographer duty for the flight, instantly became less interested in the view below and more interested in what to do when the plane crashed into the desert!

It also didn’t help that the pilot was banking severely from side to side to enable both sides of the plane to get a good view of the desert below.

But, luckily, we were distracted soon enough from thoughts of plane crashes by the sight of our first Nazca Line image on the desert floor below; The Whale!

(By the way – if these images aren’t clear enough on this page, click on the image as I’ve uploaded Hi Resolution images for everyone to see)

We’d had some fears about coming all this way and not having a clear view of the lines, but this was unfounded as they were immediately recognisable and clear.

The pilot having banked from side to side to enable everyone to get a clear look, we progressed onwards, gaining a really good view of the “other” lines at Nazca, the trapezoids which look like runways for alien aircraft on the desert floor.

The next drawing we saw from the plane, and in keeping with the alien theme, was the Astronaut!

This, unlike most of the Nazca Lines, is actually drawn on the slope of a hill and is one of only a couple of the lines that you have a chance of seeing from land.

The next drawings we saw were the “daddies” of the Nazca Lines; the ones that everyone really comes here to see. They were

the Monkey

the Spider

the (errr…..) Birdy type thingy drawing

and the clearest, most easily visible of all the drawings, the Hummingbird.

They were truly amazing to finally see in real life, and worth the cost and distance to experience.

Only about three quarters of the way through the ancient lines we had booked to see, our excitement about seeing them quickly started to be replaced by a much more modern concern; how to keep a cooked buffet breakfast that you’ve gorged on a couple of hours ago in your stomach when the plane you are in is trying to throw it back out!

It was a nightmare. We could actually feel our stomach contents sloshing from side to side as plane manoeuvred, even to the extent of locating where the sick bags were in front of us! So for the rest of the flight, as we flew over the lookout point on the Pan American highway next to the Hands lines,

and over the enormous Parrot lines,

our thoughts were one part “line admiration” to six parts “don’t be sick concentration”!

Thankfully though, our stomach contents remained where they should be for the flight. After doing the obligatory banking around the Parrot lines, the plane levelled off and we headed back to the airport, passing more trapezoids on the way.

Flying over Nazca town as we landed,

we got out of the plane feeling sick as dogs and completely and utterly jelly legged!

And the worst thing was, the feeling took hours to shake off, even after we’d got back to the hotel and lied down (we weren’t capable of standing up!)

We pretty much wrote off the rest of the day after that; only going out to book a trip for tomorrow to see some “skellingtons” and to buy provisions from a supermarket. Our stomachs had been so upset that we couldn’t even face going for an anniversary meal, making sandwiches in our room instead!

But, we had completed our list of “must do” items! It seemed impossible to comprehend at the start of this trip that we’d ever see even just a fraction of the amazing sights we had wanted to visit. And now we’ve done the bloody lot! So now, barring a couple of excursions we’re planning to do in the last couple of days, our thoughts are turning to five days from now and the most scariest sight we’ll have seen in over six months.

England!

Our reward today for the sixteen hours of travelling we did yesterday was the luxury of having an entire day free!

No sightseeing!

No travelling!

And more importantly, no stairs, steps, climbing or plant pots to smash!

Starting with an amazing hot buffet breakfast, we had a quick wander around Nazca town centre, taking in the (by now) ubiquitous Plaza De Armas

and generally just looking at souvenirs in many of the small shops.

Our one task for today was to book a flight over the Nazca Lines for tomorrow. We’d done a bit of research before, and heard good reviews about a company called Mystery Peru. As their office was around the corner from our hotel, next to another small square,

we popped in to buy some tickets.

In all the time in South America, we’ve never really struggled to get anything. Booking the tickets for the Nazca Lines flight bucked this trend though. We didn’t speak enough Spanish, the girl on the counter didn’t speak any English, and so we were left with the difficult task of trying to mime the exact time of flight we wanted! Even when she produced an English-Spanish dictionary, it didn’t really help!

Luckily, we had the presence of mind to get a pen and paper, and (one or two periods of incomprehension later), we managed to have a receipt in our hands for tomorrows trip! Whether this actually means that our understanding of what we bought and the girl’s understanding of what she sold are the same remains to be seen! But, it wasn’t a bad experience, and was actually quite funny in places as we just couldn’t understand a word the other was saying!

The heat in Nazca was now bearing down with full effect. The town is in the middle of the desert and, while it was cool in the morning, the heat and sunshine seemed to increase exponentially after mid day.

So, having done our one bit of “work” today, we popped onto a side street to look at some DVD sellers,

went back to the room to find out that the DVD we bought was not only completely in Spanish but had been filmed on a phone in a cinema – (it was only 2 Nuevo Soles though and was worth it for the laugh we had on realising how bad it was!), and then we just crashed in the hotel for the rest of the day.

We even had our evening meal in the hotel restaurant, such was our lack of interest in moving more than a few feet away from our room! And it was not only equivalent in cost to the restaurants in the town, but was one of the best meals we have had in all the trip!

At this stage of the trip, on day 180, we should be tucked up in some nice hotel enjoying the last few days of our global circumnavigation.

But not us! That’d be boring! So today, we did the longest single days travelling since setting off to Beijing six months ago!

We had to get to Juliaca airport quite early for our flight back to Lima, so got up at 5am, grabbed a quick breakfast at the hostel, and waited for our transport, taking a last look at the scene of my flower pot disaster last night!

The transport bus arrived at 6:30 am, which was about the time we needed it to be there in order to make our flight, so we said goodbye to Alfredo who’d come to see us off and set off on the journey to Juliaca.

Now, Juliaca airport is about an hours drive away from Puno, and we needed to be at the airport around 7:35am. Not a problem then. Or at least wouldn’t have been a problem had the driver not pulled up two blocks from the hostel, dawdled around for ten minutes, and then picked everyone up in Puno who flagged his vehicle down! It was 7 am before we even left Puno!

A very anxious drive later, which involved lots and lots of watch checking, we arrived at the airport at 7:50am, managed to still get our bags checked in, waited ages to pay our airport taxes as an Argentinean Tour Guide didn’t have a clue what he was doing with his tour group’s taxes, and ended up being the penultimate passengers allowed through the security checkout! Stressed as hell, we boarded the plane

and then spent the next fifteen minutes incredulous as two tour groups, one Argentinean and the other Chinese, played a game of musical chairs with their designated seats! It was beyond belief to watch the sheer stupidity of some of them, and even the flight attendant’s professional smile started to slip after the third time someone decided to sit in an emergency exit seat and bring their oversized luggage with them!

Eventually, after the tour groups realised that they couldn’t find any more seats on the plane in a better location, we set off back to Lima airport, getting perhaps our last proper look at the Andes mountains for this trip.

We arrived in Lima airport at 10 am, meaning that we had a four hour wait before catching the bus to Nazca. We tried at first to kill some time in the airport, but got bored after an hour so got a taxi to the bus terminal for a change in scenery. The weather in Lima was miserable. It was humid as hell, and hammering down with rain. This, in a city which is one of the driest on the planet! Even the taxi driver commented that the weather was “catastrophic”!

Waiting around for hours in the Cruz Del Sur bus terminal wasn’t much fun either! We passed some time grabbing something to eat in the restaurant,

and then managed to pass some more time by buying and playing with a Winnie the Pooh Rubiks Cube! Which is even harder than a normal Rubiks Cube (not that we could ever do the normal Rubiks Cube in the first place!)

Eventually, it was 2pm and time to board the bus. We’d paid an extra US$5 each for a VIP seat. To be honest I can’t understand why not more did so. Our seats were on the lower level of the bus, and there were a total of 9 luxury seats on this level, similar to the reclining seats in Business Class on a plane. Upstairs, for US$5 less than we paid, there were around 30 seats! For a seven hour plus journey, I couldn’t see the point in saving such a minute amount when the conditions we travelled in were vastly superior to the cheaper seats. But, each to their own!

The bus set off, and fairly shortly we were out of Lima, following the Pan American Highway south, and travelling through mile after mile of desert.

Even though we knew Lima was a desert city, it’s hard to believe this until you do actually see that there is nothing but barren sand outside it.

We were served an amazing chicken and rice meal, and sat back to watch the “entertainment”; the film “Failure to Launch” which was dubbed into Spanish with English subtitles! It kept our attention for around the first two minutes, and then we gave up on it, settled back and relaxed for the rest of the trip.

Stopping in Parraca around 5:30pm and then Ica around 6:45pm, we were due into Nazca about 8:45pm. 8:45pm came and went, and eventually we arrived 45 minutes late at 9:30pm in Nazca bus terminal, a journey time of 7 and a half hours.

As always when arriving in a place at night, we experienced a degree of disorientation. This was made worse by the fact that the bus terminal was mad, with people jostling to get past and no clear indication of any taxis (which we needed because we didn’t have a clue where our hotel was!)

Rather than just get into any car, warnings about Peru taxis ringing in our ears, we asked the bus terminal security guard where the taxis were. He had a word with a woman nearby, indicated that her tiny unmarked car was a taxi, so in we went! And four blocks later we were at our hotel, the Casa Andina!

After all the long travelling, arriving in Nazca was a bit of a whirlwind. Our hotel seemed really nice,

but we were so wired with the journey (coupled with not being at altitude any more!) that we couldn’t get to sleep for ages! Which didn’t really matter because tomorrow is one of those rare things which happen once every one or two months; a proper rest day!

Perhaps our first real awareness of Lake Titicaca came from watching the Michael Palin series “Full Circle”. So, having one day here, we were determined to take his lead and visit the floating islands of the Uros and the Yavari ship which both featured in the programme.

So, the first of these was a boat trip on Lake Titicaca to the floating islands. Looking at the lake from the hostel rooftop,

we realised that it was going to be quite a beautiful day, so, packing our suncream into our daypacks, we were picked up by a minibus at 8:50 am and (after picking up passengers from other hotels) we arrived at the docks and got onto our boat.

Whilst waiting for the boat to set off, we were entertained by a boy playing pan pipes and singing.

We don’t think he was affiliated with the trip and was just some random urchin from the street looking to make a bit of money. As far as I know, though, he didn’t get any!

The boat set off on the journey on Lake Titicaca,

and straight away the lake became magical, with the light creating an amazing vibrancy to the blue water.

The journey to the Uros took around thirty minutes. Within fifteen we were passing through the start of the totora reeds that the islands are made from,

so I popped onto the roof of the boat for a clearer look at where we were heading.

It was a strange feeling, sat atop the boat as we passed through a narrow channel through the reeds.

It became even stranger when signs of habitation, such as pigs living in the reeds, came into view.

Almost, it seemed, all at once, the channel through the reeds ended and we came into a small bay area around the islands, immediately spotting one of the totora reed boats that the people of the Uros are renowned for.

Our boat pulled up at one of the floating islands, and we were helped off it onto the reeds. It came as a slight surprise to find that the ground we were walking on was spongy and springy, almost like walking on an inflatable bouncy castle, and, while you didn’t sink into it as such, you were fully aware that you were not on firm ground.

We were led to a square of totora benches and were treated to a demonstration of how the islands are made. The roots of the totora reeds form a dense floating base, on which layer upon layer of totora reeds are layered to create each island. We were shown how the reeds are bound together, and how the very same reeds are used for everything from eating through to building the huts on the islands.

When the demonstration was over, we were left to wander around the island for fifteen minutes. Being one of the bigger islands, with eleven people living on it, there still wasn’t a great deal to do except look at the trinkets each family was selling.

Although we knew we’d be able to buy one for a fraction of the cost on the mainland, we were particularly attracted to one piece of weaving one of the families was selling, so, despite every sinew in my body trying to resist parting with the money, we bought an ideal bit of tat for our house!

There’s some debate on various websites as to whether the people of the Uros do actually live on these islands still, or whether they live in Puno town and just beat the tourists to the island. There were signs of someone living on our island (the solar panel being used to power one of the huts)

but it was impossible to tell if the islanders did live here fully. And to be perfectly honest, we didn’t care! Some travellers seem to be forever lambasting an experience if it isn’t 100% authentic. After travelling around the world for nearly six months, we really don’t think there is any areas that you can class as being 100% authentic. Nowhere is an island (although I suppose the island we were on was, but you know what I mean!) and even old cultures absorb new technologies. So, whether the majority of the people did actually live here was academic; they were maintaining an example of how the Uros people lived for hundreds of years, employing the same techniques and methods that their ancestors had used, and it felt like a step back in time.

Then came the thing that we had been waiting for; a trip in a totora reed boat!

Ever since watching the Michael Palin episode, I’ve wanted to go in one of these, and now was our chance!

So, clambering onto our boat and heading to the stern,

we set off on a journey to another island, with the women of the Uros waving us goodbye and singing to us as we cast off from the mooring.

There were two reed boats to serve the passengers from our trip. Strangely enough, one of the boats was full to bursting, yet ours was practically empty with only six other passengers on it! This meant that we could really appreciate the journey and lounge about, whereas on the other boat the passengers were nearly gaining biblical knowledge of each other as they tried to squeeze in!

It was a really brilliant experience, to ride on the totora reed boat on Lake Titicaca, passing reed sculptures,

boats being used solely by the indigenous people,

and all the while being sang to by three small children from the island who had joined us in our boat. Very magical indeed. Including the “amigo” song they sung, where they made a point of walking up and down the boat and touching each passenger’s hand as they sung!

The second island we visited was more of a tourist area than the original island. Containing a bar, restaurant and shop, it was obviously designed to extract the last bit of money out of the trip passengers, but it was still possible to enjoy without spending a penny.

Top of the attractions here was the watch tower. Used in centuries passed to spot danger from other tribes (the whole reason why the Uros people started to live on the floating islands as a barrier to being defeated), now it was a perfect place to get an overview of the whole area. We waited in line for other tourists to climb up, take their photos, and come down again, and frankly it was quite frustrating to watch how long they were taking to climb and descend the ladder. Finally, when only one other person had gone up, I took my opportunity and practically ran up the ladder before anyone else could think about spending five minutes on the climb!

Memories of ascending the Diamond Lookout Tree in Western Australia flooding back, I scaled the ladder in mere seconds.

The structure shook from side to side as I bounded up it, and completely terrified the girl who had gone up before me!

The view was worth it, as you got a real feel for the layout of the islands and how close some of the huts were to the water.

Coming back down to terra firma (or should that be reeda sponga), we looked at a couple more reed boats on the water,

as well as an eagle tethered inexplicably to a pole,

before we boarded our boat again and headed back to the mainland.

We got back to the docks, passing the lighthouse

and several pelican boats (non traditional!!)

before finding our minibus and getting back to the hostel.

Visiting the floating islands of the Uros had been a longstanding desire for both of us, and we loved every minute of the visit. It was a fascinating insight into an indigenous culture, irrespective of whether all the people actually live there anymore, and indeed was one of the highlights of the trip so far.

We rested for half an hour back in our room, and then set off to do our second homage to Michael Palin, visiting the boat The Yavari.

The thing that particularly interested us in the “Full Circle” series was the back story behind this boat. Originally commissioned by the Peruvian Government in the nineteenth century, it was constructed in Britain, dismantled piece by piece on the shores of South America, and then transported by mule across the Andes to Lake Titicaca where it was re-assembled. Over the years it had fallen into disuse until a British woman spotted the rotting shell of it and started to restore it. So we were intrigued to see what stage the restoration was at, “Full Circle” being broadcast in the late 1990’s.

To get there was a forty five minute walk, so we decided to use one of the small tuk-tuks to do the journey instead.

Negotiating a 4 soles fare to the boat, we set off on a bumpy and extremely noisy journey to the outskirts of town.

The tuk-tuk driver pulled up just before a hotel, behind which lied the Yavari, so we paid our fare and walked towards the hotel entrance.

As we crossed the train tracks before the hotel, we spotted a group of three small boys dressed in full national costume and with painted on moustaches!

It was Independence Day in Peru and there was obviously some sort of parade about to happen (we could also hear a band rehearsing), but it didn’t appear to be starting yet so we continued on our way to the Yavari.

For the next five minutes, we struggled to find the entrance. We knew it was behind the hotel, but there seemed to be no clear way to actually get behind the hotel! Eventually, I plucked up courage to approach the reception desk of the hotel and ask “Donde esta la Yavari?”, to which the receptionist indicated through the hotel. So, dressed in our finest clothes, sporting only two months of ingrained dirt, we walked through a relatively plush hotel and came out of the back of it to finally spot our entry point to the ship!

Passing probably the fattest Llama/ Alpaca we’ve ever seen,

we walked along a swaying wooden jetty and finally made it onto the ship.

A guide was just starting to take a French couple around the vessel, so we joined the tour and were led around every section of the boat, informed at all times as to the extent of renovation that had taken place.

We were even allowed down into the engine room of the boat, which contained many of the original brass fittings from the nineteenth century,

as well as going into the ship’s bridge complete with the original wheel!

It was a really interesting and worthwhile experience, so much so that we donated more than the recommended donation on finishing the tour. To have such unfettered access to all areas of the boat was a rare experience, and we enjoyed the fact that we were on a boat that we had first become aware of on a TV programme over ten years ago. In fact, we liked it so much that, when we found the wheel for the anchor,

Mandy tried to raise it so we could sail off across Lake Titicaca towards Bolivia and never leave!

Thoughts of piracy and raiding merchant vessels on the high seas of the err…. lake, flooded our minds! Unfortunately, our plan was foiled when we realised we didn’t have the first clue on how to steer a nineteenth century ship, so we left and headed back towards the rear of the hotel.

Before reaching the hotel, we spotted and heard the Independence Day parade that we’d suspected was taking place.

We were too far away to really appreciate it, but could see the colours of the costumes and hear the festival music, which was better than nothing. If only we hadn’t attempted to be pirates, we might’ve made it in time to the main road to watch it! Oh well!

Passing the Llamas again, we realised that one had gotten into the festival mood, wearing little woollen baubles in its hair!

We, on the other hand, had to work out how to get back to the centre of Puno from the middle of nowhere! We luckily managed to flag down a cab on the main road, and didn’t get robbed, ripped off or held for ransom on the way back!

Tired from the days exertions, we couldn’t really face the hassle of finding a new restaurant to eat in, so repeated our “find” from yesterday, ate like the locals again and enjoyed it just the same today. We then headed for a final look at Plaza Uno

the pedestrian area next to it

and finally Plaza De Armas

before heading back to the hostel to pack ready for leaving tomorrow.

About 9pm, we had the bright idea of going onto the roof of the building to see the view at night and see if there were any fireworks happening for Independence Day. There was nothing going off so, shutting the door behind me and coming down the stairs, the next two seconds came very close to landing me in a Peruvian Jail on a homicide charge!

I don’t have any recollection of actually making contact with it, but I must have clipped a heavy plant pot on the stairs. Which proceeded to fall off the stairs, plummet fifteen feet, and crash into minute pieces on the floor below, right between two English people eating at the table below.

If it had been an inch to either side, it would at best have seriously injured one of them and at worst killed them! A very scary moment indeed.

Having made sure they were alright, I went to speak to Alfredo, finding his wife Gilda instead. She told me not to worry about the mess and that they’d clear it up. I don’t think they truly understood the mountain of earth and potware that was covering the entire floor, so insisted they give me something to clear it up. It took me and Mandy a full twenty minutes to clear the mess up, all the while aware of the other two guests trying to eat their dinner having just experienced a near death experience!

Suffice to say, as soon as we’d cleared the mess up, and Alfredo and Gilda had reassured me that they didn’t want paying for the damage, we locked ourselves in our room, only venturing out for a drink when my “nearly homicide victims” had gone to their own rooms!

An eventful end to our stay in the Andes!!

Checking out of our Hotel, the Rumi Punku at 10am, we had an hour to kill before needing to get to the airport so hung around the hotel lounge area.

The hotel in Cusco has been both good and bad. The layout and actual hotel itself has been really nice, with part of the building being built on the ruins of an Incan Temple.

The problems have been the nearby building works, and the heating which wouldn’t turn off, which have turned what should have been a relaxing stay into a bit of a battle at times. Still, any hotel which serves bacon butties in a morning can’t be all bad!

Our taxi through to Cuzco airport was an experience in itself. While most drivers in Cusco have a tendency to pay scant regard to any road regulations, this driver extended this to driving the wrong way down a one way dual carriageway! And when he realised his mistake (the beeping and flashing oncoming cars were a dead giveaway!), he veered onto the correct side of the dual carriageway and nearly slammed into the side of a bus! It was quite relieving to arrive at the airport in one piece!

An extremely bumpy and very short (30 minutes) flight later, we landed in Juliaca airport.

The city of Juliaca is 3,825 metres (12,549 feet) above sea level, and is the highest place on Earth we have been to.

If we had visited here straight from sea level, I think the altitude would have killed us. As it was, the week long acclimatisation in Cusco served us well, as we didn’t really experience any adverse effects here.

Picking our luggage off the carousel, to the accompaniment of a Peruvian pipe playing band, we boarded our transfer bus to Puno on Lake Titicaca. The bus was so packed, with no room for luggage storage, so we stood and watched as the driver and co-driver clambered on top of the van and started lifting everyone’s luggage onto the roof! Altitude or not, I’m sure if we’d have tried to lift that much luggage onto a van we’d have been too tired to drive afterwards!

From the airplane as we were landing, Juliaca looked like a really poor city. In fact, from the plane we struggled to see any streets that weren’t just made of dirt. The view from the van as we passed through the city wasn’t much better.

It’s easy to make the mistake in Peru of thinking a city is deprived by looking at the buildings, as often you’ll see whole areas which look like building sites. Strangely though, this isn’t an indication of the deprivation of an area, as the tax regulations in Peru mean that tax is paid only when a building is completed. So very often, houses are completely built and then a top floor is started and left unfinished. So, while being completely ugly to look at, its quite an ingenious tax dodge for the inhabitants!

While there was the fair share of this in Juliaca, the whole place just felt so gloomy and a hard to live in city, and seemed like the sort of place where you were glad you were just passing through. But, in a strangely voyeuristic way, it was compelling to look at as we drove through.

We finally got onto the toll road between Juliaca and Puno, which in itself was a misnomer as there seemed to be very little actual finished road to drive on! It was quite a fascinating forty five minute journey though, as we passed Peruvian farmers tending their Alpacas

and watched mile upon mile of Andean plateau pass by.

We entered the outskirts of Puno, turned a corner, and caught our first glimpse of the world’s highest navigable lake, Lake Titicaca.

There was an audible murmur from everyone on the coach as they caught their first view of the Lake, before the bus wound down the hillside into the city itself.

After dropping the first passengers at a hotel on the outskirts (where we caught our first glimpse of the ship Yavari which we’re hoping to look at tomorrow), we were next to be dropped off at our hostel, the Inkas Rest. This gave me a chance to climb on top of the van to help the driver with our luggage, which (rather sadly) I enjoyed immensely!

We were met at the door by Alfredo, the owner of the hostel. Our first impressions of Alfredo were that he was one of the friendliest, jolliest men we’ve ever met! He was constantly joking in a heavy Spanish accent, which he could switch effortlessly to an Essex accent as he’d lived in Davenport for a year, and wasted no time in taking the p**s out of my breathlessness from carrying the packs. He was also extremely helpful, letting us properly check in after we had a rest and telling us the areas in town that were safe after dark (highlighting these in green on a street map).

This was extremely useful, as it was turning dark and we needed to go out in search of food. So, armed with our highlighted street map, we headed towards the centre of town, only to abandon the safe streets after a block and follow our noses to the most salivating barbeque smell we’ve ever experienced!

The source of the smell was El Rancho, a chicken barbeque restaurant off the tourist trail and seemingly used only by the locals. Rows upon rows of chickens were cooking on rotisseries over charcoal fires, and for a quarter chicken, fries, salad and drink it came to only 10 Nuevo Soles each (around £2.00).

And it was without a doubt the most succulent, tasty chicken we have ever tasted in our lives! There was some sort of Peruvian spices on the skin which we wished we could identify as it beat anything we’d tasted before. The fact that it was simple fare, and definitely the sort of places that the locals frequented made it quite fantastic.

After leaving the restaurant, we headed through a couple of squares in Puno, namely Uno Square and Plaza De Armas (it seems like every town has a Plaza De Armas in Peru!). Between these was a pedestrian only street, which had the widest variety of restaurants we’d seen in ages. Quite surprisingly, our first impression of this area of Puno was that it was very similar to Austria, (a feeling we’ve also had in Cusco and Machu Picchu!). We can’t quite put our finger on why this is; maybe it’s a style they adopted due to the proximity of the mountains or maybe we’re just going crazy!

One thing about being this high up is that when the sun goes, the temperature plummets. Indeed, we had read before getting here that hundreds of children in the greater area of Puno had died of cold this year! Whilst we weren’t in danger of freezing, we headed back to the hostel and got under the thirty sheets on the bed (the hostel has no heating!) and relaxed for the night, safe and warm at the side of Lake Titicaca!

Today we finally got to do the “killer” sight that made us come to Peru in the first place; Machu Picchu.

Cusco is the nearest city to Machu Picchu, but “nearest” is relative in this case. To get there requires a three hour train ride, and there are only a couple of departures each day. And our departure today was due to set off at 6:55am.

So, we managed to get up at 4:30am, went for breakfast at 5:00 am, which was strange as there was no-one else there and we had to even turn the lights on in the room ourselves! And then, gathering our things together we caught a taxi to the train station in Poray, which was around a thirty minute journey away.

The taxi ride was a real eye opener as to life in Peru outside the tourist trap areas. Despite it being pitch black, the roads in the small villages and barrios on the hills surrounding Cusco were teeming with life. Market stall were set up and serving the local population, people were walking down the slopes towards the town centre loaded with goods, and there was even a football game being played by local teenagers in the pitch black. And all this at 5:55 am!

What made it even the more remarkable was that the rain was hammering down. But it didn’t seem to affect anyone as they continued on their daily tasks. Only us, as we dreaded a day getting soaked wet through!

We arrived at Poray Station with the rain still pelting down,

and waited for around thirty minutes before the train was ready and we were allowed on.

There are three train services that serve the journey between Cusco and Machu Picchu. The Hyram Bingham is the crème de la crème and is a close cousin of the Orient Express both in terms of opulence and cost! Way out of our league for this trip (and I dare say any other trip in this lifetime!). The cheapest option is the Backpackers train, a standard older style train which we would’ve chosen to use had there been any seats. So we were left with the middle option for our journey there and back again; The Vistadome.

In theory the Vistadome train sounds wonderful. The ceiling of the train is domed, with windows enabling you to see some of the more spectacular high scenery as you journey along. Great in theory, but in weather like today it was impossible to see a thing through them! Not only were they covered in rain to begin with, within five minutes of setting off they had completely misted over (as indeed had every other window in the carriage). So started a constant battle for the next three hours to de-mist our window so that we didn’t end up staring at moisture for the duration! And it was absolutely freezing cold, so much so that we had to wrap our feet up to stop our toes falling off with frost bite!

The scenery we saw as the train trundled slowly through the Sacred Valley was dramatic. We passed cloud covered hillsides,

small towns and villages going about their daily routines,

ran alongside raging torrents in rivers

and passed through dramatic valleys.

It really was fascinating to see, and the journey passed in a blink of an eye. And it got even more amazing as we approached the end of the journey, with the sort of tree covered Andean mountains that Machu Picchu is famed for becoming more and more prevalent.

So it was with some excitement that we got off the train at Aguas Calientes station

and headed off to find the bus that would take us to Machu Picchu!

Finding the bus ticket booth and the booth to pay the admission fee to Machu Picchu was a feat in its own right. In a stroke of madness/ rampant capitalism, the only way you could get out of the train station was to pass through a heaving tourist market. So, countless “No Gracias”’s later we managed to get into Machu Picchu village and locate the bus ticket booth.

Now common sense would dictate that the bus counter and the admission counter to Machu Picchu would be next to each other or even (shock, horror) that they might be one and the same! But, oh no! We had to find the admission ticket booth hiding off a small square inside another building before we could board the bus! With no signs whatsoever to show you the way! Probably the reason for this is that most people who had come on the train were on organised tours. So, we’d saved about US$150 each doing it ourselves but had to work just that little bit harder! But, we found the ticket booth and paid our money, walked back and got in the queue for the bus which had increased tenfold since we had bought our bus tickets, and then finally we were on the bus heading up to Machu Picchu! And it had finally stopped raining!

The bus journey up the hill was the sort of experience that South America is rightly or wrongly renowned for. It started ok, as we headed out of the village and turned into the start of the mountain road leading to Machu Picchu.

But then, it turned into the sort of journey that left you clutching the side of the seat and considering a quick conversion to religion to get you through it! The road was nothing more that a single lane dirt track zig zagging up the mountainside. This would have been fine, was it not for the other buses coming the opposite way down the mountain! The lane rules appeared to be whoever was in the middle had the right of way, and the bus hovered alarmingly at times mere inches from the side of dizzying drops off the mountain. It was quite an experience!

But the strange thing about the journey up the mountainside was that it was hard to remain constantly scared because the scenery left you absolutely breathless. The mountains surrounding Machu Picchu held an almost hypnotic attraction, making you ignore the plummet to certain death that the bus was about to take as your eyes were drawn to the nature splendour of the surroundings. I’m pretty sure that had the bus actually gone over the edge, our last moments would have been spent slightly irritated at having our views interrupted!

Finally, after a twenty five minute journey, we got our first glimpse of Machu Picchu from a distance

and then the bus pulled up and we were there!

Getting a stamp in our passports before entering the site (and probably invalidating them by doing so!) we passed through the entry gates and got our first views “on-site”.

There is one “classic view” of Machu Picchu that everyone knows. It’s a cliché, but obviously like the rest of the herd we needed to get there and see it. So, starting to cook in our coats now the sun had come out, we started the slow, hard trudge up a series of winding old steps to the viewpoint.

It nearly killed us! Despite Machu Picchu being at a lower altitude than Cusco, and despite doing a much harder climb a couple of days ago, we seemed to be devoid of energy and found it really hard to do. Machu Picchu is renowned for never being discovered by the Spanish Conquistadors, but we have a theory that they did find it and couldn’t be arsed with the climb! It was tough! But plenty of rests along the way, we made it to see a view that has burned into our brains for the rest of our lives.

Nothing prepares you for seeing this in real life. What the pictures never convey is just how huge the area is. Not only Machu Picchu itself, but the surrounding mountains are imposing beyond belief. Your brain struggles to comprehend the scale of what you are doing; so much so that you abandon all hopes of comprehending it and join the rest of the sheep (or should it be Alpacas!) and pose for lots of photos with the classic view behind us!

Along with conclusive proof that Mandys in the Andes!

And who would’ve ever thought that!

After saturating our photo taking from the viewpoint, we decided to wander down into the bulk of the buildings forming Machu Picchu.

All the way down you were left with the feeling that you were perched on the edge of a mountain,

and indeed there were several opportunities to throw yourself down thousand feet drops if you were that way inclined!

Many of the buildings were in remarkable condition, missing only their roofs, and there were many unmistakable Incan doorways to pose in!

We turned around to take in the much less known reverse view of Machu Picchu,

and were surprised at just how far down we’d walked. The people standing around the viewpoint area looked like ants, they were that far away, reinforcing the vastness of Machu Picchu as a site.

We continued down through the ruins,

until we reached a small hillside in the site, built up with buildings. We decided to head up this, and were quite surprised to see Llamas/ Alpacas wandering around the mid-level of the hill!

Although not as surprised as a group of American women who didn’t realise that one had snuck up behind them! Its probably the last thing you expect to see when you turn around!

Climbing up the remainder of the hill,

all the while taking in the views behind us,

we reached a sun dial. Now, we’re not sure why people felt the need to touch it

(some even claiming that it felt warm as if conferring the spirits of Incan sacrifices and I kid you not!) but it was a sun dial, not a religious sacrificial altar! At some random time each day, as the sun rises, it strikes a point where a beam of light hits a small grooved channel below the dial. It happens too early in the day for us to have seen it, but people actually get up to the site in the dark specifically to see just this. And others warm their hands on cold rock! Some people!

We descended the hill,

and on finally reaching the grassed area of the site, we found a convenient rock and sat for ten minutes, not quite believing that we were here and experiencing this. It felt almost like a waking dream.

And then we took a long, slow walk back to the exit, through ruined buildings and up steep steps, the views changing with each corner.

It was a photographic heaven and hell; heaven for the views and hell for the quantity of photos taken!

Reaching the bus back down to the village, the rain opened up again just as we were boarding. Which was the latest in a long line of good luck with the weather on this trip. Almost every time we’ve needed the weather to behave it has! We must be lucky!

Reaching the village, we had forty minutes to kill before getting back onto the train, so went for a quick wander.

It seemed like a nice place. It was very reminiscent of an Austrian Alpine town, and was obviously only really an extension of the train station (the tracks even running right through the centre of town!)

but it had quite a nice feel to it, and made us wish we’d spent the night here.

But we hadn’t, so it was back on the train for the journey back to Cusco.

Now on the journey this morning, we had been lucky and had two seats facing the back of the seats in front. On the way back we weren’t as lucky, as we had two seats facing another two seats. Now, despite becoming rather sociable on this trip with strangers, we have always hated sitting across from people on public transport. We never know where to look, and the window was out of the question as it was getting dark and still heavily raining. We had no books, no Ipods, and no means of entertainment for the three hour journey back.

So what could make this journey even better? Hmmm? How about throwing two strangers together opposite us who were deep in conversation when we arrived at our seats and didn’t shut up once in the whole duration of the trip. Not bad enough yet? Ok, lets make one of them a British Ex-Pat now living in the US who was telling random stranger number two lots of interesting facts and qualities about the British and Europeans. Facts that might have been correct fifty years ago in some sleepy village in the south of England, but were so ludicrous now that I spent the next three hours biting my tongue and showing the patience of a saint not to reach over the table, shake him by the neck and shout “You’ve only been out of the country ten years! How can you get things so wrong!!”

But I didn’t, choosing instead to go into suspended animation for the duration, only being disturbed briefly by a cultural show,

which involved a man wearing a balaclava that his grandmother must had made him for a joke, and encouraging people to stroke the stuffed Llama tied around his waist. It was only later that the horrible thought as to what the Llama might have been stuffed with and why he was keen for people to stroke it came to mind!

Then following the cultural show, we were treated to a fashion show, where the attendants modelled the latest in Alpaca clothing fashion!

(This was numerous shawls for women and jumpers for men in case anyone is after a head start on Peruvian Alpacan Fashion for the coming season!)

Both the Cultural Show and the Fashion Show were a bit lame, but we feasted on them like starving dogs in a dustbin; anything to break the monotony of the conversation across from us!

We finally, after a journey which seemed more like ten hours than three, arrived back in Poray Station. We’d asked our taxi driver this morning to meet us tonight, giving him our arrival details, but we weren’t sure if the language barrier had been transcended to correctly convey this. So, it was no great surprise to us when he wasn’t there! And the only taxis at the station looked like the sort that would rob you blind (literally rob you) and leave you in a gutter somewhere!

Luckily, we managed to blag our way onto one of the many Tour Buses that were picking their tours up from the station, so managed to get a lift into Plaza De Armas in the centre of Cusco!

So, grabbing something to eat, we got back to the hotel after an exhausting but totally exhilarating sixteen hour day trip.

And our reward on getting back to the hotel? We had to pack, for tomorrow we leave Cusco and head off to Puno and Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world!

There really isn’t much to say about today (I can hear everyone whose been subjected to my 2,000 word plus entries breathing a sigh of relief!)

We weren’t really in the mood for doing anything, but decided to check out one or two places we hadn’t visited to see if they were worth doing.

Our first stop was the Inca Museum. Although it looked interesting from the outside, we walked through the entrance and it looked like just a very small courtyard with lots of people selling tat. Added to this, you couldn’t take photographs or video, so we thought sod that!

Next stop was the Cathedral in Plaza De Armas. Again, no photos or video allowed plus it was extremely expensive to get into (25 Nuevo Soles each). So, Plan B went out of the window.

Our next destination had a wedding happening, so we couldn’t go into there. So, a bit fed up by now, we sat in a small square off Plaza De Armas and wondered what to do.

Maybe it was the Golden Llama statues in the square that inspired us,

but we came up with the perfect solution. And so we did what we should’ve done in the first place; went back and stayed in the hotel room and watched TV all day! After all, when the highlight of the day has been to see some golden llama statues, what else is there to do!

We had a bit of a dilemma this morning, in that we couldn’t work out what to do with the rest of our time in Cusco. We had today and tomorrow to kill, before going to Machu Picchu on Sunday, and originally we had planned to visit the Sacred Valley on one of these days. The only problem being that to get to the Sacred Valley would involve paying for transport and paying a high admission cost to get in. As our finances aren’t looking in any way healthy, and bearing in mind we have a few relatively expensive activities coming up in the remaining time left, we decided the best course of action would be to do the least expensive activity; window shopping!

So off we trotted for a bit of retail therapy!

First stop was one of the many shops selling Alpaca goods. All aimed squarely at tourists, some of the produce was really worth a look at. So, within five minutes of setting off to window shop, we had bought an Alpaca “hoody” top for Mandy, turning the window shopping day into an actual shopping day!

The thought kept occurring to us as we walked around; where did the locals buy their clothes from? They certainly weren’t all wearing Alpaca Hoody’s! Remembering from our visit to Santa Domingo a couple of days ago that there was a busy main road at the foot of the gardens, we decided to have a look down there. And we were right. We’d skipped the tourist side of Cusco and entered the “downtown” area where many of the locals bought their own day to day things.

After looking around a couple of markets and buying the first “useless gift” for someone back home and a dirt cheap bag for Mandy, we cut off the main street and headed into the main hub of the local’s shopping area.

It reminded us totally of Ho Chi Minh city; very crowded streets, goods for sale everywhere, and utterly fascinating. Like other streets we saw in Asia, it seemed to have certain streets dedicated to certain goods. So, we passed through Electric Goods Avenue, Shoe Street, and Jeans Alley, among others!

The worst of these streets was Dead Meat Row. We passed shops selling chickens, with the dead feet poking into the pavement so you had to actually dodge them. Raw meat was being divided on blood stained counters, and everywhere had flies buzzing around and landing on the produce. Not the most healthy choice of food to say the least!

We then went into a small market. Now this market on various websites has been described as both being unsafe for tourists and containing fascinating smells. Now firstly, how can a market be unsafe for tourists! Unless you’re waving your money and valuables around, it’s the same as any market in the world. And if you are waving your money and valuables around, you’re going to get robbed as you would in any city in the world! And as for the smells; this is something I just don’t get. The smell of this particular market was a gut wrenching aroma of sweat, ripe vegetables and meat turning to bad. If some people find these smells fascinating, they seriously need to check their sense of smell as it was vomit inducing!

We’re never ones to waste much time on shopping expeditions so, having deduced that the room would’ve been made up by now, we started to head back towards the hotel. On the way, we popped into an internet café as we needed to print out our trains tickets to Machu Picchu and our bus tickets to Nasca. It was easy enough to find an internet café, but a complete nightmare trying to get anything done! Our biggest problem was trying to access our hotmail accounts. Try as we might, we could not work out how to type the @ sign for our email address login! We tried all sorts of combinations, we then repeated these combinations (just in case it had decided to work since the first time!) and even looked under the keyboard to see if the @ sign was just being shy! Finally, we hit upon the bright idea of finding a website with the @ sign displayed and copying and pasting it! Success at last! Our next problem was trying to print out 10 pages when the printer kept crashing after one! Eventually, after twenty five minutes of pure frustration, we managed to get everything we needed and headed back to our room!

We spent a couple of hours relaxing, and then headed back toward Plaza De Armas, to a small restaurant we’d discovered tucked away on one of the streets. We noticed as we were about to enter the restaurant that there was some sort of parade going off in Plaza De Armas.

Now we had two choices. Delay our meal, walk down some steep stairs to watch a parade, and then head back to the restaurant afterwards and risk not getting a table. Or, forgetting about the parade and getting some food!

All I can say is that the meal was brilliant, cheap and we were the only ones inside, and we didn’t care as we were eating it if there were juggling elephants in the parade! After the walking we’ve done in the past couple of days, there was no way we were doing any more steep stairs again!

We had decided today to visit Saqsaywaman, an Incan Fortress a mile outside the centre of Cusco.

After breakfast, we tried and tried to locate how to get there, but to no avail. Our couple of Cusco maps only cover the immediate city centre, and stop before they reach Saqsaywaman, so we started to think about a taxi. Then, in a stroke of luck, we read a review for the hotel we are staying in which just said leave the hotel, turn left and go up the steps and you’re there! Easy we thought!

How could we be so wrong! The directions were accurate. We turned left out of the hotel, headed up the slope, and reached the steps.

So far so good. So we headed up the steep steps, and saw a sign for Saqsaywaman, which we followed. To find another steep flight of steps!

Which we went up. To find (you’ve guessed it!) yet another steep flight of steps.

And then, finally, having gone up these steps we reached the main road and the entrance to Saqsaywaman.

At this stage we had a much needed rest. Unfortunately, while I was completely over the altitude problems, Mandy still hadn’t fully acclimatised. And really did not want to move. So, faced with a slight dilemma, I spotted the immediate answer lying on the floor. A prodding stick!

Now one thing I have learnt over the years is that a prodding stick is the best device to move stubborn, unwilling beasts. And so it proved again today. A few choice prods with the stick and up she got and away we went!

We went to the little hut at the entrance to pay our admission price, and left thirty seconds later in a state of shock. When we asked how much to get in, we thought the woman had said 17 Nuevo Soles. It was actually 70 Nuevo Soles each!

Now to put this into perspective; 70 Nuevo Soles is the equivalent of £14. But, in a country like Peru it is complete and utter extortion. We have bought full meals with drinks and tips here for a TOTAL of 40 Nuevo Soles! So the admission price here was the equivalent of four days of restaurant meals!

But what could we do? We’d half killed ourselves getting to the entrance, really wanted to see Saqsaywaman, so very begrudgingly paid the blood money and entered the site.

To be greeted with ………..

more stairs

and views of our street below

followed by a steep climb over broken rocks and more stairs!

Finally, finally, we reached the summit of the hill, grinning inanely at each other through sheer delirium!

We later found out that Saqsaywaman sits at an altitude of 12,142 feet, and our hotel sits at an altitude of 10,800 feet. So not only had we climbed hundreds of stairs at an average 27 degree gradient (although in reality some of the steps were nearer 50 degree gradients), we’d climbed 1,342 feet at altitude! I think if we’d have known what we were going to attempt this morning instead of blindly following our feet there’s no way we would’ve attempted it! But at least it gave me the chance to use trigonometry for the first time ever in a practical situation to work out the gradient we’d climbed!

So, the main question is, was the climb worth it? And the easy answer is yes!

Saqsaywaman was one of the last places that the Incas held out from the Spanish Conquistadors and was only defeated when the Spanish cut off the water supply. Although much of the site was dismantled and the stones used in Cusco, you still get a sense of how vast a place it was.

The stones used in the construction were absolutely massive. For example, if you look at a photo with Mandy below, you can see how big the stones were.

Hang on. That’s not a really good example is it! I can just imagine everyone saying “but that must make the stones only four feet high”. So, here’s a better example!

The whole site takes ages to walk around. There are several levels, so we started with the ground level where some of the bigger stones are located,

before heading up a couple of levels to see a better perspective of the whole site.

We reached a dirt mound for the highest point of Saqsaywaman, and the views over Cusco and the site were amazing.

Just slightly down from this dirt mound was a fence which acted as a lookout point over the entire city. It was something else to see Plaza De Armas, which on the ground is quite a big square, as a small patch of green below us.

We tried our usual “joint photo” routine, but couldn’t quite get the hills in the background.

It wasn’t until Mandy ducked her big head that we finally achieved a decent view of both us and the Andean hills in the background!

We started our descent from the high point of Saqsaywaman, passing archaeological digs on the way,

and wandered through the most intact parts of the building, through ancient corridors, doorways and stairs.

And then we were out and on ground level again.

Straight across from Saqsaywaman were several volcanic rock formations, which were also part of the complex, so it was to here we now headed.

And came across a natural child’s playground!

The rocks were so smooth here that several kids were sliding down them!

It looked like great fun, albeit the sort that could quite easily land you with a broken ankle with the impact onto the rocks at the bottom. So, thinking that a broken limb or two wouldn’t really hamper me on the rest of the trip (I can do Machu Picchu in a cast!) I quickly shoved all the kids aside, climbed to the top of the rocks and, adopting a South American Condor pose, launched myself down!

Apart from slight fear about what damage the cracks in the rock were going to do to my tender regions, I made it down safely in one piece, the smarting in my feet from the solid rock landing passing after a couple of minutes! And no broken bones, which was a bonus!

Now obviously, after being super brave myself, all that was left to do was hound Mandy mercilessly to have a go herself! After about five minutes she relented, and so we found a “baby slide” at the top of the rocks for her to have a go at! Great fun!

After our slides, we headed to the top of the volcanic rocks, where we got the best view yet of the whole Saqsaywaman site.

We then started our descent, very slowly down the rubble on the hillside with the aim to get back to the ground level of the site.

We took it very carefully, as it was a relatively steep descent and the earth was very loose and slid down with you. But we made it down to a flat section in one piece. Only for Mandy to slip on the flat!

The tread on her trainers having worn completely down, she slipped on the loose earth and I turned around to see her left leg going sickeningly underneath her in what seemed an impossible angle. It was the sort of fall that, if you see it in a football match, you know that the player will be out of action for months afterwards. But, remarkably, apart from a couple of bruises and grazing (and a poorly toe) she was fine! So obviously, realising she was ok, my initial concern turned into hysterical laughing at her! We’d done the hard part, and she’d slipped on the totally flat earth! It was even funnier when she turned around and had so much mud and grass on her back that she could’ve lied on her front and been completely camouflaged on the hill!

I’m really, really nice aren’t I!

We descended the rest of the way down the Incan steps,

and then rested for a while for hop-along to get over her injury. We then decided, despite been tired and one of us having a poorly leg, that we’d head up the adjacent hill and see the Jesus statue that dominates the skyline of Cusco.

Passing a Llama along the way,

(it didn’t ask us for any money for it’s picture which leads me to believe that it’s the owners that want the money and not the actual Llamas!), we started the painstaking climb up the hill, going on the most circuitous route to avoid any more killer loose earth! As we ascended, and paused for a rest, we looked back to an impressive view of Saqsaywaman.

We finally reached the top,

to be greeted by a Tourist Trolley Bus!

We had no idea that anything like that came up here; for the equivalent of £3 each we could have saved the effort of the 1,342 feet climb!

Even the Jesus statue had his hands out in puzzlement, as if to say “Why didn’t you just get the bus!”

But we hadn’t (and wouldn’t have got the same level of satisfaction by doing so), so we put the thought out of our mind and looked around.

Again, the views from this viewpoint of Cusco were worth all the climbing we’d done.

There was some strange ritual going on where a pair of shirts had been crucified!

Maybe a stain hadn’t come out in the wash!

But the overriding element of being up there was just how cold it had turned. The day had been overcast anyway, but at that sort of altitude, with little protection from the wind, it was dropping close to freezing. Even the Jesus statue asked us “Why are you still here? Why don’t you just go down to where its warmer!”.

Not ones to disobey talking statues, we moved away from the statue and passed through the car park and small market stall.

Now, we’ve taken lots of photos of the locals selling things, but at all times have done it from a distance. Whilst walking through the car park though, we saw the most intrusive act of photography yet.

One of the tourists who had got off the Tourist Trolley Bus had literally plonked herself down right in front of an old woman dressed in typical Peruvian clothing. When I say plonked down, the camera lens must have only been a foot away from her face. And it wasn’t even a small digital camera; it was a massive SLR camera with an amazingly long lens. She didn’t ask if she could take a photo, the old woman was trying to hide away in a blanket, but still she persisted until she got her shot. It truly was sickening to see; she may have a nice photo to show people at home, but she treated the old woman worse than an animal, and I truly hope that some misfortune happens to her camera because quite simply she deserved to have it smashed on the spot.

Putting it out of our mind, we sat on the hill for five minutes, reflecting on a good day and reminiscing about our entire trip. It was so nice to be able to sit, with no-one around, and take in the Andean scenery and think of some of the amazing things we’d seen and done. But, the cold became too much and we started our descent down the hill towards the city centre, again spotting the street of our hotel on the way down.

We decided to pop down to Plaza De Armas on the way down, so headed down one of the streets leading there, taking time to stop and look back at the steepness of the street we had just descended.

And then we reached Plaza De Armas, sitting for ten minutes and, strangely unmolested by shoe shiners or art sellers, took in the view of where we had climbed to.

It was almost impossible to make out the viewpoint of Saqsaywaman or even the Jesus statue from here; even on full zoom on our camera the Jesus statue seemed tiny. We could almost hear it say “Why are you trying to look at me from so far away! Go home!”.

And so, for the second time today, we listened to the mad ramblings of a marble religious statue, and went home to the hotel, Mandy breathing a sigh of relief at the end of a day in which she’d been prodded with a prodding stick, made to slide down a rock, fallen on a flat piece of ground, become a grassy mud monster, been laughed at hysterically, and made to walk the sort of incredibly hard journey that a little ‘un just shouldn’t have to do!

Feeling less bothered by the altitude today, we decided to take a walk downhill to the Santo Domingo church.

It wasn’t really the church that we wanted to see, but the remains of the Inca Sun Temple, Koricancha. The church was built in the seventeenth century, over the top of the demolished Sun Temple, but we had read that a large proportion of the site was still the original Inca building.

Having tried unsuccessfully for five minutes to convince the ticket seller that our YHA cards were student cards, we entered the courtyard of the church.

It was all very pretty, with oil paintings surrounding the courtyard, but suffered from the old “do not take photographs of this” routine that had ruined some of the experiences we have had on this trip. They seemed to have quite a problem with people taking photographs of the oil paintings in particular; why I really don’t know as its not like anyone would reproduce them and sell the prints!

The ruins of the Inca Sun Temple were located at the side of this courtyard.

And to be honest, there wasn’t really much left of them to look at. There was very little information about the old Sun Temple, and you were left with the feeling that you were supposed to be admiring the church and not the ruins.

You had more of a sense of the Incan past of the site when you went into the small garden outside the church.

You could see the large Incan stones supporting the rest of the structure,

and it was quite nice to look at the view of Cusco from the terrace.

The only problem was, we could see that the gardens were partly restricted to visitors to the church, but the vast majority were open to the public directly off the main road. Which meant that we could have experienced the best parts of Santo Domingo without ever paying an entrance fee!

We were slightly disappointed with the experience of Santo Domingo. Reading several websites before we set foot in here, it had been lauded by some people as “the best thing they saw in Cusco”. We can only think that such people had never left their hotel rooms before and after visiting here, as we’ve already seen better sights here without even really exploring! Maybe we were expecting to see more of the Incan structure, but we were definitely not enamoured by the place!

We were now in a bit of a quandary. We’d expected to spend a lot more time in Santo Domingo than we had, so didn’t really know what else to do with ourselves. So we decided to head back towards the hotel and check the internet for something else to do. But, as we approached the hotel, we passed the extreme flight of steps we had noticed yesterday. So, even though they looked like stairs to nowhere and although not quite 100% over the altitude problems, we decided to have a go at climbing them!

Well! We made it, but it nearly killed us! Again, it wasn’t the physical exertion that hit us, but the total lack of oxygen to breathe. But, feeling like our lungs were going to burst and needing a rest for a couple of minutes at the top, we made it!

We had reached the San Blas area of town, and straight away we knew the climb had been worth it. The streets in San Blas were really old, narrow and cobbled and it felt a world away from the tourist hubbub of places like Santo Domingo and Plaza De Armas.

We walked towards the church, and found a picturesque square right at the side of it. And, for the first time in Cusco, we managed to sit down and relax without the constant irritation of tat sellers.

The only person who tried to sell us something there was an old woman who quickly realised we weren’t buying anything, but made it into a bit of a game. We were laughing as we said “No Gracias”, she was laughing as she pulled the latest of a never ending supply of tourist purchases out of her back; it was all very good natured and pleasant and passed a couple of minutes.

We sat for around fifteen minutes, listening to the sounds of pan pipes being played in the distance and relaxing in the glorious sunshine. Sufficiently chilled out, we headed up another slight flight of stairs and took in the views of Cusco from the balcony overlooking the square.

From this upper level, we had another look around the streets there. The only way to proceed was up another extremely steep set of steps, so we passed on that and headed back down to the square.

Intending to go back to the hotel, we passed a lovely small restaurant on a street in San Blas. As it was nearing 4pm, we decided to grab something to eat now rather than head back out later when it would have been busier. And we were so glad we did, as the crepes we had were out of this world (especially the chocolate crepe with chocolate ice cream and caramel sauce that I had for my meal today!). As I mentioned yesterday, we’re going to be in real danger of putting all the weight we’ve lost in the past six months straight back on again if the quality of the food in Cusco continues!

After eating we headed back down the steep steps

and collapsed back into the hotel completely stuffed and exhausted!

That night, we found a stunning indication of what the altitude was probably doing to our bodies. We’d had a couple of cappuccino sachets left over from our camper van days in New Zealand, so decided to dig one out and make a drink. Now, the last time we had used these in Buenos Aires, the packets had been completely flat. So, imagine our surprise when we pulled one of the sachets out and saw how it had reacted to the change in altitude!

It was absolutely rock solid with air, as if it had been inflated with a pressurised air canister!

It even made an audible hiss as we opened it! It left us with the slightly alarming thought; if the altitude is doing this to a cappuccino sachet, what the hell is it doing to our internal organs!