About the only good thing about this entire flight was the very first meal we had on boarding. Everything else about it I could write whole novels on it’s inadequacies! And one of the strangest things about the flight is that they made no attempt to acclimatise the passengers to the time difference between Lima and Madrid. On every Trans-Atlantic flight I’ve ever been on, you will get served breakfast around breakfast time in your destination country. On this flight, we were served breakfast at 1 pm Spanish time! Just one of the many failings for this journey!

We arrived in Madrid airport around 2:15pm, and decided to go through the exit and get some fresh air before our onward flight to Heathrow a couple of hours later.

The heat outside hit us like a sledgehammer! It was easily around 40 degrees Celsius, and we gasped for air more here than in the altitude of the Andes! So, very quickly, we forgo our “fresh air experience” and headed back to the safety of the air-conditioned airport!

We got onto our 27th and final flight on this trip (not counting the Nazca Lines flight) and waited for take-off.

Whilst waiting, we noticed a luggage trolley approach the plane, and be turned away. Joking that with our luck it would be our luggage on the trolley, we thought nothing more of it and sat back as the plane started its journey to Heathrow Airport.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, we were crossing the English Channel and caught our first sight of England in over six months.

Hitting London soon afterwards, we descended on a scenic route over the Thames, taking in such sights as the Millennium Dome, Tower Bridge, the London Eye, the Houses of Parliament, Wembley Stadium and errrr…… Brentford Football Ground! And then we finally touched down at Heathrow Airport, six months, five days and several thousand miles after last being there.

And at this point, we had officially completed our circumnavigation of the planet!

So, passing through passport control, we went to get our luggage. Of course, as you would’ve no doubt guessed by now, it wasn’t there! And it wasn’t only us; there were at least fifty other people whose luggage hadn’t arrived!

We got in the line for reporting the luggage missing, which took three hours to process as they only had one staff member to deal with everybody! So, the company that had flown us “bus” style from Peru, had not only left our luggage behind in Madrid rather than risk their “on time departure” percentages but had made no provision whatsoever to deal with the amount of passengers affected, despite having been aware of this hours earlier!

And to make it worse? There were three other flights from Madrid to Heathrow, all with the same company, all half full, and they hadn’t had the decency to put any of the missing luggage onto one of these planes!

After arriving in Heathrow at 5:30pm, we finally left the baggage collection area at 9pm and went to pick up our hire car. The first one we picked had a flat battery, which wasn’t a good sign, but we swapped cars and drove to Toddington Services on the M1, reaching the Travelodge that we had last stayed at on 30th January.

And so, checking into our room, we finally completed our journey, exhausted beyond belief, more depressed than we’ve been in our lives so far, minus the majority of our luggage, but with an immense sense of achievement at having travelled Around The World In 187 Days!

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We did manage to pop back down to the Larcomar complex, buying last minute souvenirs and visiting the arcade again, but our hearts were not really in it. So we decided to take one last look at the Pacific Ocean,

and with very heavy hearts headed back to the hostel.

We’d booked an extra night in the hostel, precisely because our flight from Lima to Madrid wasn’t until the evening. This at least meant that we could kill time in the room, rather than hanging around the streets for a day. But we couldn’t even face just staying in there. We attempted a quick game of table tennis on the rooftop patio, but that just reminded us too much of the fun we’d had in Shanghai doing exactly the same, so quickly abandoned that!

So, we decided enough was enough, checked out of the hostel and waited in the reception area for a taxi

and off we went to Lima Airport, hours earlier than we’d intended but at least it was a change of scenery.

To be honest, Lima Airport isn’t too bad a place to pass time. Most of the restaurants and shops are before you enter the security control area, so you don’t have to lock yourself away in the departure terminal to pass time. And, for the first time in our entire stay in Lima, the sun broke through the cloud cover, clearing the humidity and making our last evening in Peru crisp, clear and not at all humid!

We eventually paid our airport tax and headed through to our gate.

Although by now we wanted to just get on the plane and get it over with, the weight of what was now ending for us was pretty oppressive.

But, the time to board came, and so we said farewell to the last country on our round the world trip.

The flight to Madrid was scheduled to be eleven and a half hours; the longest flight we have done in the entire six months of travelling. So it goes without saying that the plane was probably the worst we have travelled on in the entire journey. Cramped beyond belief, the seats were more like the sort you find on a double decker bus, and there was no back-of-the-seat entertainment system.

So, with the plane setting off over the Andes and heading east over Brazil towards the Atlantic Ocean, we did the only thing available to us to pass the time, and went to sleep.

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Where we purchased a much better alternative than a hostel breakfast in the form of a Dunkin Donuts cappuccino and donut each!

We had a very slow walk around the shops there, looking for any last minute souvenirs or clothes to cram into our packs, but we were pretty much just going through the motions and killing time until the fast food restaurants opened in the shopping complex.

And so, to kill even more time and in a move at odds with much of the “cultural” stuff we’ve done on this trip, we popped into an amusement arcade for half an hour!

Playing on the bowling, basketball and car racing games, we soon had an armful of tickets we’d won! So, we headed over to the redemption counter in the arcade and left with three tiny ball bearing puzzles in return for thirty vouchers!

The fast food counters having now opened, we stuffed our faces silly with grease, and then headed back to the hostel, having spent less than three hours outside.

Getting back to the hostel, we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening not really being bothered about doing anything other than watching TV.

We’re in a complete daze and it’s so hard to believe that this is it. It’s probably made worse by the fact that we’ve had a relatively easy few days here and in Nazca, and we feel fully recharged and ready to tackle the next journey to the next new place.

Apart from the inescapable fact that there are no more journeys to new places. We wouldn’t have the money to do any more in any case. But its such a strange feeling to be right at the end of the trip and feel so full of energy; we always thought we’d be on our last legs by now and glad for the rest at home but we just want to keep going!

The last thing we did today was to keep a promise we’d made to each other on our last night in Hong Kong. We’d sat there in our hotel room listening to the Damon Albarn/ Gorrilaz track “Hong Kong” and staring at the Hong Kong skyline, and it had been such a poignant moment that we’d made a commitment to play the same track at the end of our very last night abroad. Well that was now, so we sat and listened, reminiscing about some of the wonderful experiences we’d shared in the preceding six months, and mentally trying to come to terms with the end of our journey.

We’ve still got several hours to kill in Lima tomorrow, which we’ll probably spend playing in the arcade again because there’s precious little else to do in the time we have, as well as about fourteen hours in the air before we get back to Heathrow Airport.

But, travelling home aside, for our journey, this is it.

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we put on our packs for possibly the last time on this trip and walked the four blocks to the bus station.

We hadn’t had a clue how early to get here; for the first journey from Lima we’d boarded the bus half an hour early. So we decided we might as well wait at the bus station than at the hotel, and got there an hour before the bus was due. Which of course, was one hour too early as we didn’t board the bus until a minute before it was due to depart!

Still, at least we passed some time fighting off a guy in the bus depot who was determined he was going to fasten our pack cover straps up! We don’t think he was “all there” and he nearly destroyed our pack covers messing around with them, but we managed to move him away from them before any damage was done!

Getting onto the bus,

and back in our luxury VIP seats,

we settled back for the seven hour journey to Lima.

We got to see a lot more of the landscape on this journey than on the corresponding journey down to Nazca, as we passed through the main areas in daylight rather than in the pitch black. First thing of note as we left Nazca was the observation tower for the Nazca Lines, which we’d only previously seen from the air,

and then we passed mile after mile of desert landscape. We stopped at places such as Paracas

and Ica,

two very dusty towns/cities set right against a backdrop of the Pacific Ocean and large sand dunes.

If we’d been aware of these places before booking the bus back to Lima, we probably would’ve spent a night in at least one of them. But, like some other places on this round the world trip, they entered the “things to do” list for another time.

Unlike the bus ride down to Nazca, which had arrived 45 minutes late, we actually pulled into Lima Bus Terminal half an hour early! So, a very quick cab ride to Miraflores, we checked into our hostel an hour and a half earlier than we’d thought we would.

We’ve been really lucky with our hostels on this trip. Many have turned out to be the best accommodation we have stayed in, beating big chain hotels hands down. We haven’t had a bad experience with any hostel we’d stayed in. So it was slightly ironic that, for our very last place on the trip, we hit possibly one of the worst places we’ve been in on the entire trip!

It is, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit of a dump! It’s supposed to be a newish hostel, yet feels completely tired and worn out, there are dirt marks all over the walls, and its really just a bit crappy in general.

The laughable thing is, there is some award letter in the reception proclaiming it to be “the best hostel in South America for 2007”. I can only think that this is the equivalent of the New York café in the film Elf selling the “best cup of coffee in the world”! Because we’ve stayed in five hostels/ B&B’s in South America before this one, and every single one has beaten it hands down!

But at least it’s cheap (about £12.50 a night for a private room). And the location is right in the middle of everything in Miraflores, which means no major walking for our last hours on the trip.

Being back in Miraflores seems strange. We wish we could’ve ended the trip in the hotel in Nazca, rather than come back to Lima with it’s strange constant cloud cover and humidity. And we feel that the travelling is now over, with the only things left to do being a taxi to the airport and two flights home. But, we’re here for a couple of nights, so after six months on a near constant move we have the strange experience coming of trying to kill time for 48 hours!

Save The Best To Last remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I’d watched a documentary on British TV a couple of years ago about perfectly preserved mummies in the South American desert, and was surprised to find whilst here that the documentary had been about Chauchilla Cemetery, just on the outskirts of Nazca. Mandy, having suffered my junkie-esque obsession with accumulating useless facts through documentaries for countless years, didn’t stand a hope in hell of stopping me from doing it (but then again she didn’t try to, knowing how much I wanted to see it).

Rather surprisingly, we found ourselves having a private tour. We were the only ones booked on the tour for today so, rather than occupy a minibus with just us on it, we were picked up and driven off in a battered old car, with just the driver and the tour guide (who we will called Egbert for now as we didn’t get his name!) for company.

And in yet another example of how we are the luckiest people on earth, with respect to the weather, it was a really cool morning with thick mist cover. The perfect weather for visiting and walking around a desert and the worst weather possible for seeing the Nazca Lines. In fact, had we done the Nazca Lines and Chauchilla Cemetery the other way around we would have missed out on seeing the lines, as the flights had been grounded today such was the lack of visibility!

First stop was a ceramics factory,

where we were told by Egbert the significance of some of the ancient paintings on the pottery. For example this image,

means “Monkey head coming out of snake with other heads and fishes”. Gives you a real insight into the history of the area doesn’t it!

We were then taken into the workshop area, where a man demonstrated how the pottery was made, using the same methods today as they had in pre-Incan times.

Obviously, the tour then concluded with a demonstration of “non-obligatory items for sale”. Luckily though, this was no “Beijing Silk/ Jade factory moment” (See Day 6 of the blog for details!) and the merchandise was affordable and good quality.

Happily swinging our essential holiday purchase, we got back into our rust bucket private limousine and continued onwards towards Chauchilla, veering off the sealed road onto a desert sand track fairly shortly afterwards.

After navigating the various bumps of the seven km track, the driver pulled up and we were at Chauchilla Cemetery. Paying our five Nuevo Soles entrance fee each, Egbert led us first to a small enclosed area, in which were the remains of one of the more preserved mummies in the area.

Egbert had been part of the group who took us to the airport yesterday, and both yesterday and the start of today he seemed ill at ease in his role. But, going around Chauchilla Cemetery with him, he seemed to really come into his own and you could sense he had a real enthusiasm for the subject. This started in the small enclosed area, where, after he’d told us a few basic facts about the mummy (such as it was one of the Nazca tribe and pre-dated the Inca civilisation), he proceeded to show us some photos of the landscape on the walls and explain why the geology of the area had preserved the Nazca Lines. He explained that the high iron content in the top layer of the land, while enabling lines to be drawn because of the contrast with the layer below also protected the lines from the sun by reflecting much of the UV rays back. He even demonstrated outside to us how the lines had been created.

We then started to look around the cemetery proper. A quite large area, each of the excavated graves was covered with a small, open shelter and a path led through to each of these in a circuit.

And so started a, slightly macabre, tour of lots and lots of skeletons!

There were some really fascinating insights provided by Egbert, such as the fact that the Nazca tribe practised trepanning; a method of removing part of the skull of people with head injuries to relieve the pressure and save their lives. This sort of advanced medical procedure took centuries to reach Western Medicine! There was evidence of this as well in one of the skulls we saw.

Another thing he mentioned was that the Nazca tribe practised skull deformation, elongating the skulls of senior families of the tribe by binding ropes around their heads in infancy to distinguish them from other tribes people. And again, the evidence for this was in one of the skulls.

By now, Egbert had totally relaxed with us, joking that one of his ancestors buried here was Bob Marley

and that another was an American Football player!

He was much more chatty with us, and we compared the weather in Nazca (it rains for half an hour each year!) with that of Manchester (where it’s dry for half an hour each year)! Which explains why the Nazca Lines are still there after hundreds of years and why the grass in our garden at home will probably be twenty feet high by now!

The mummies were quite fascinating to see, with much of the hair and original clothing still intact,

and the setting was completely other-worldly with the rust-coloured hills in the background and miles upon miles of desert scenery in every direction.

On finishing the last tomb, our driver picked us back up again and it was back to the desert track,

back to the hotel,

and back to another leisurely afternoon, which we’re becoming quite accustomed to!

We rounded off another great day in Nazca with a repeat performance of the brilliant meal we’d had two days ago. And then it was back to packing for the journey back to Lima tomorrow; our final place before returning home.

Almost every web site you look at for Nazca recommends that you stay for one night, see the lines the next day, and then get the hell out of there. How wrong they are! We’ve had three brilliant, relaxing and interesting days here and wish it could be more. There are lots more things we could do if we stayed longer, and it’s such an amazing area of the world.

But, after six months of endless time stretching out in front of us, time on this trip is now a commodity we’re running out of. After today, we have two more nights sleep left before we catch our plane back home.

There’s going to be tears!!

Land of the Dead remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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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!

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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!

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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!

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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!!

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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!

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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!

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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!

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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!

In the Hood remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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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!

There’s a Mandslide! remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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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!

Stairs To Nowhere remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We had to combat a radiator that wouldn’t turn off, making the room unbearably hot!

We had to experiment with several variations of bed covers before striking a balance between Swedish Sauna or Arctic Tundra!

We had to combat pillows where one was too little and two was too much!

We got disturbed at 5am by, what could only have been, a herd of elephants with American accents walking down the stairs outside our room and talking loudly!

And then, to cap it all, at 8am nearby building works started up in their full, banging glory!

Add to this our continuing battle with the lack of oxygen, and we were in a complete mess!

We somehow managed to get enough energy to walk down to breakfast, where the first Bacon Butties since New Zealand gave us an all too brief surge of energy, before getting into our room and collapsing back on the bed.

We really could not find a scrap of energy from anywhere to move. But when the heavy machinery on the building site started to vibrate the room, we knew we had no choice but to head out into the city and try our best to explore.

Heading up a narrow alleyway

to Plaza Nazarenas,

we took the first of many five minute breaks to get our breath back. And by this stage we’d only managed about two hundred metres from the hotel entrance!

Being able to breathe, we carry on, spotting a Peruvian woman escorting a Llama down the street.

Now one of our objectives in Peru had been to see Llamas/Alpacas and women wearing “Peruvian Women Hats”! So, finding a group of them together, we got a photo!

Of course, they all wanted paying for it, managing to extort a couple of Nuevo Soles out of us. I’m sure they wanted one Nuevo Soles for each person and animal in the photo, but as the Llamas were silent on the matter, they didn’t get it!

Arriving in Plaza De Armas,

we realised that the scale of wanting money from tourists was in its own separate league here. We lost count of the number of times that we had to say “No Gracias” when offered bits of jewellery, photo opportunities with baby Llamas,

local artwork and shoe shining services. And, to be honest, it started to get on our nerves after the twentieth time.

We didn’t mind so much when some of the older women approached us, as they tended to accept we didn’t want to buy anything and wished us “Buenos Dias” as they left. What we took exception to was some of the male art work and shoe shine sellers. With the Art Work sellers, they always demanded to know why we didn’t want to buy anything from them (perhaps the truth “because its f**king crap” may have been a more successful answer!) and the shoe shiners were mystified as to why I didn’t want my “soon to be condemned” trainers polishing!

So, we managed to soak in the atmosphere of Plaza De Armas for all of five minutes, before we got sick of being mythered and moved on.

We headed up towards San Francisco church, through old Spanish Colonial buildings and archways,

before arriving, breathless again!

We didn’t go into the church, as the purpose of today was all about building stamina and not really doing touristy things, but instead went into the adjacent market where you could buy anything from raw meat to Peruvian clothing. Hang on. That should read you could buy raw meat AND Peruvian clothing! And not much else! And we had no need for raw meat and Peruvian clothing, so left!

From the market, we headed back to Plaza De Armas,

managing to stand for thirty seconds without having to say “No Gracias!”.

We then headed back the way we had walked last night, reaching a street called Hatun Rumiyoc. This was a good example of much of Cusco. It was the centre of the Inca Civilisation and when the Spanish Conquistadors took over the city they used many of the Inca constructions and amalgamated them with their own buildings. So, the walls of Hatun Rumiyoc, while having Spanish upper parts, are solid Incan walls on the lower parts.

We turned onto our street,

and headed up the slope towards our hotel. Which gives me a perfect opportunity to name check the only remaining close relative I’ve not yet mentioned, my sister Becky.

Now Becky has a thing for Guinea Pigs. I can’t remember how many she has had, but she likes them. And so she’d love Cusco!

What more could the discerning Guinea Pig lover want than ……….

Guinea Pig Pizza!

And if that doesn’t whet your appetite, how about ………

Roast Guinea Pig with potatoes!

Yumtastic!!!!!

(If you want the recipe Becky, I’ll be sure to pick it up – just let me know!)

We reached the hotel room, and had a much needed rest for a couple of hours, before leaving in search of food. We passed an extreme flight of steps

and wondered if we would ever be over the altitude to manage them, caught a decent view of the sun setting on the Andes,

and then, after much deliberation, decided to eat at The Cross Keys pub! Owned by Peruvians, it was still bizarre to sit opposite an old map of the UK as we ate! But, a very nice meal it was! We thought that Cusco might be a problem, food wise. The only problem we can see now is that we’ll end up putting a stone of weight on each!

It’s been a really tough day physically, but we seem to be getting slowly more used to the conditions. I feel about 70% full capacity and Mandy is around 60% full capacity, so we’ve got a bit of a way to go yet before we’re fully functioning, but there’s no way we could have walked the distance we’ve done today if we’d tried yesterday.

So hopefully tomorrow we’ll be at sufficient strength to tackle even more!

No Gracias! remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Somehow though we arrived in one piece at the airport and so boarded the short, one hour flight to Cusco.

The flight was one of the most extraordinary we have ever experience. Cusco is situated 10,800 feet above sea level, right in the Peruvian Andes and so the flight, rather than following the usual ascending to thousands of feet and then descending, instead climbed rapidly to rise above the Andes and then had hardly any distance at all to descend into Cusco Airport. The plane flew past Cusco on the left, passing the clearly visible runway below. It then, about ten miles outside Cusco, banked sharply to the left to do a u-turn, the left wing of the plane an unimaginably small height away from the top of a hill. The u-turn completed, it then descended through a valley, finally touching down on the airport tarmac.

A few people on the plane clapped; it certainly was the most skilful piece of manoeuvring on a passenger jet that we had even seen.

Getting our bags from the overhead storage, we started to wonder just how the altitude was going to hit us on leaving the plane. It’d been a concern for a couple of months now; nobody knows how their body will react to altitudes of this range and there are no indicators to say who will be affected and who won’t. Mandy readily admitted that she was expecting a similar affect to the film Total Recall; where people exposed to a different pressure level suddenly had their eyes bulge and heads explode! Luckily, our eyes remained firmly in their sockets, but we both took a deep breath on leaving the plane.

After collecting our baggage and trying unsuccessfully to push the broken luggage trolley through the arrivals lounge, we were met by our complimentary hotel transfer and driven to our hotel.

Even on the drive, we knew we were somewhere special. The brown hills of the Andes that Cusco nestles in dominated every view. We spotted several ancient looking buildings along the way, and got a real sense of “being somewhere”, a feeling that we have hardly had on the entire trip so far.

We pulled up at the hotel,

and were immediately shepherded into the lounge.

By this stage, having only been in Cusco for fifteen minutes, we were already feeling the effect of the altitude. For some reason, we had both gone slightly deaf, and were feeling quite lightheaded. The best way of describing it is that we both felt drunk. This was further highlighted when we were filling in the hotel registration cards; our writing was all over the place! It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant feeling, just extremely strange!

Whilst we were waiting for our room key, the hotel staff served us with Coca Tea which helps combat altitude sickness.

Using the Coca leaf, which is the plant used to produce cocaine, the drink resembled a cup full of privet leaves with boiling water. And our first thoughts on drinking it was that it tasted like a cup full of privet leaves with boiling water!

Strangely enough though, after a couple of mouthfuls when the leaves had had chance to properly brew, it was quite a pleasant tasting drink. And if it combats altitude sickness then even better!

We dumped our stuff in our rooms, and decided to go for a gentle walk. Which was when the altitude of Cusco really hit us.

On this trip, we’ve been used to walking up to ten miles a day. So it came as a complete shock to find that we were now struggling to walk down a sloping street! The thing that really hit us was the lack of oxygen. A simple task, such as putting one foot in front of the other was exhausting. Steps were the worst as they were completely debilitating. We could only operate at about 5% of our natural exertion levels, and our lungs were screaming for air as if we had been holding our breath for as long as possible underwater!

Somehow, we made it to the Plaza De Armas, where we thankfully (and surprisingly) fell upon a McDonalds! So we went to eat, the altitude even affecting me standing in line waiting to be served as it felt like I was going to pass out at any stage!

By the time we had eaten, the night had fallen, so we sat on the stairs outside the Cathedral in Plaza De Armas and looked at the spectacle of the house lights on the hills twinkling like a blanket of stars. They looked totally like fairy lights, and were almost mystical (or was that the lack of oxygen causing hallucinations!).

And while sat on the stairs, we had a surreal moment. A couple of Peruvian boys come up to us trying to sell various trinkets. When we politely declined to buy any, one of them looked at me, pointed, and said “Harry Potter”! It was then that I realised my destiny. If I come to a remote Peruvian Andes city and still get likened to Harry Potter, maybe it’s time I stopped denying my calling in life, buy a wand and make money from celebrity appearances! We did have a laugh though, shook the kid’s hand, and agreed to buy some of his trinkets “in the next life”!

So, bellies full and lungs devoid of air, we started the half mile “climb” back to the hotel. Grabbing another Coca tea, we tried to get to sleep, which (bearing in mind Coca Tea is a stimulant), was probably not the best idea we’ve ever had!

But we’ve made it to the capital city of the Inca Civilisation. And we can’t wait to explore, if we can just get over the lack of oxygen!

Pottering Around remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We come to a place, stay in a nice hotel, and plan to have a rest for three days.

And after two days of inactivity, we’re twitching like mad twitchy things and staring at the walls as if they’re closing in around us!

So, to avoid jumping out of our tenth floor window in desperation, we decided to abandon the rest and find new and exciting educational activities to pursue in Miraflores.

And we found the perfect place to head to. It was marked as an archaeological site; what more educational and exciting an activity could two restless travellers possibly want?

So off we headed out of our little Radisson prison, and headed up Av Jose Larco (the main street in Miraflores)

Passing a hostel which we think we’re going to spend the last night of our trip in, we passed Central park

and reached Huaca Pucllana; our educational activity for the day!

Huaca Pucllana is an ancient religious pyramid structure which pre-dates the Inca civilisation and was constructed by some of the earliest settlers in Peru, the Lima civilisation. But more importantly, it kept our minds occupied and was only 7 Nuevos Soles each to get in (around £1.40).

On entering the complex, we saw the most dreaded words in the English Language – “Entry only possible with official tour Guide”!

Now occasionally an official tour guide will give you useful insights into what you’re looking at. But most of the times we just don’t care what they have to say! We find it impossible to walk around at snails pace and analyse every single brick, and the motivation behind the bricklayer for laying that particular brick, and more importantly what the brick felt about being laid. It sends us to sleep quicker than Rohipnol!

And this was one of these cases. Not to do the guide a disservice, he did provide a few useful snippets of information, such as talking at length about how the cultural importance of the site was not recognised in Peru until 1982, by which stage most of the site had been demolished for new houses and the remainder used as a motorbike track. But lets face it, we were looking at bricks.

Albeit very old, clay/adobe bricks in a structure which dated back around 1500 years ago. But they were still bricks. And in our attention span directory, looking at old bricks warrants fifteen minutes maximum and not two hours! But we were trapped and couldn’t escape! So for two hours we trudged around and looked at more and more bricks! At one stage resorting to identifying how long other people on the guided tour had been travelling by the condition of their shoes!

There were some good points about Huaca Pucllana. You could appreciate that you were looking at an ancient structure, and the height of the pyramid was quite impressive.

We also got to see and stroke a Peruvian hairless dog,

whose skin felt like the driest roughest leather in the world.

We saw our first Llamas and Alpacas in Peru,

and got to see some of the available delicacies on the restaurant menu!

The guide assured us that the Guinea Pigs that the restaurant served (they’re a Peruvian delicacy) were not the same ones as here. But I wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly, but maybe it was the Best Before date on their backs and the cooking instructions on their stomachs that gave the game away!

One thing that we had wondered whilst walking around Huaca Pucllana was how the building had lasted so long. With the bricks being made of clay, we couldn’t understand how the building hadn’t been washed away over the years. And then, as we were looking at a recreation of ancient Limans preparing a tasty Guinea Pig banquet (we weren’t listening properly at this stage so it probably wasn’t!)

we heard the guide mention that Lima hardly ever has rain. And the last storm it had was in 1977! It turns out that it is technically a desert, and the only rainfall that hits it is a light drizzle during the night in rainy season. Which is what we were in now. He also mentioned that for four months each year the sun was never seen, and the city was covered in thick cloud, which explained why it had been so gloomy whilst we were here. So we did finally learn something interesting in the two hours!!

But our most important discovery came at the end of the tour. Seriously dehydrated after climbing clay pyramids, we found a drinks machine. Which sold…… Inca Kola!!!

Intrigued (and thinking when in Lima…) I purchased a bottle of the translucent yellow unidentifiable liquid. And it was delicious! Impossible to describe but wonderful all the same! Even if it did look like an “Emergency Glastonbury Toilet”!

Leaving Huaca Pucllana behind, we headed down towards the sea front and the lighthouse there.

We were transfixed by the hangliders launching themselves off the cliffs and spent several minutes watching them glide by.

We then continued for a short walk along the cliff tops,

taking in a couple of ornate walkways and statues,

before we reached a point above the pier below

where we turned up a side street and headed back to the hotel.

We head off tomorrow to Cusco, high in the Andes mountains, and Miraflores has been a useful place to grab a bit of rest before tackling the altitude there. We’ve decided to spend the last couple of nights of the trip here; its quite a relaxing place, lots of places to eat and should be a good place to stop travelling.

But I don’t think we’ll be doing any more guided tours around educational and exciting archaeological sites when we come back!

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We got up for a very poncified breakfast in the hotel; the sort where the staff were re-arranging the pieces of fruit to maintain the immaculate breakfast array. And any complimentary breakfast in a hotel where you are encouraged to tip the staff automatically goes down in my estimation.

So we went back to our room, stuck the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and went back to bed.

Most of the day was spent reconciling our finances (we’d gone over the last time I looked in Australia so had put off finding how bad the financial situation for the past two months – not very sensible but ignorance was bliss!) and watching a series of films on the TV.

One thing about Peruvian film channels that we have noticed is that they like Adam Sandler. So today we ended up watching about four of his films. And it’s not just one station. Its all of them! Still, beats the hell out of watching garish South American soap operas!

We occasionally varied the routine by staring out of the hotel window,

but up to around 4pm, that was all we did!

Successfully getting past the crucial stage in any hotel bed-in where the housekeeping staff try to evict you to clean the room, we finally had to leave when our stomachs started to panic at the thought of no food! So, a quick walk down to the fast food outlets at the sea front later, we ate and headed straight back, just in time to watch the Amir Khan fight live from Manchester MEN arena.

And then, we stopped “living dangerously”, returned to our previous routine, and settled back to watch more of the never-ending stream of Adam Sandler movies on the TV!

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One brilliant benefit of staying in the Holiday Inn across the road from the airport was that we were able to check our packs onto the flight and then go back into the room and wait until the last minute to pass through security. So, instead of wandering aimlessly around an airport terminal building for a couple of hours, we lied on the bed drinking fresh coffee and watching BBC news! There’s nothing like the high life! (and to be fair this was nothing like the high life!).

We boarded the plane, wondering which film we were going to watch on the video screens in the back of the seats in the next four hours, to find that somebody had cruelly stolen all the seats with built in screens, as well as any legroom or comfort! So, knees crushed by the seat in front, we settled into a potentially boring few hours in the air. As luck would have it, the entertainment they showed on the “communal” plane screens was Monster Vs Aliens which passed a couple of hours away, and the rest of the time we alternated between falling asleep and watching the brilliant scenery of the Andes pass by.

We touched down in Lima, collected our luggage, and went to find the taxi booths. One important lesson from researching Lima on the internet is that it’s not really the sort of place that you want to get into any old taxi in. At the best, you’ll get ripped off severely. At the worst you’ll be kidnapped! There are several signs in the baggage claim area of the airport warning you about this as well, so we found an official taxi booth before even leaving the baggage area and were escorted directly to the taxi to prevent being waylaid along the way!

The taxi ride to the area of Lima we are staying in, Miraflores, took about forty minutes and went on the most circuitous route possible. Even when the taxi driver got near to the Radisson hotel we are staying in, he seemed to go around the block several times before finally stopping. And he wasn’t trying to rip us of as we’d prepaid for the trip in the airport!

We’re staying in the Radisson for the next three nights, in unashamed comfort. And to be perfectly honest, we’re not really planning to do anything for the next three days either! We’ve realised in the past couple of days that its been nearly a month since we’ve had a true, complete rest (it was when we were snowed in in Dunedin - try saying that after a few drinks!), and its probably why we have very little energy left now! (That and the fact that we’ve been in four countries in the past three days and changed time zones twice!). And we need a decent rest before we fly to Cusco in three days for the start of nine days at altitude.

So, all we did today having checked into the hotel was head down to the sea front, look around a shopping centre built into the cliffs, and have KFC for the first time in nearly two weeks (we couldn’t find a single one in Argentina!).

Our first impressions of Miraflores is that it’s perhaps not representative of Peru at all. It’s one of, if not the, richest suburbs in Lima and the goods on offer in the shops reflect this with prices close to that of the UK. But as an easy destination for the next few days it seems ideal.

The only strange thing is the weather. It’s quite hot (24 degrees Celsius) and quite humid, but the whole place is shrouded in thick, impenetrable cloud. If this was the UK, you would bet good money that it was going to rain bucket loads. But it didn’t. It just stayed hot, humid and gloomy.

Being fed and watered, we headed back to the hotel and then, slobbing out on the bed, we watched film after film on the large LCD TV!

Good start to a new country!

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We’ve really enjoyed our two stays at this hostel. Like every other one we’ve stopped at on this trip, its had real character to it. An older building, it has a central atrium area with balconies giving a bird’s eye view of this,

a roof top bar area with good views of the city,

and the second room in our stay had it’s own balcony with city views as well.

We’ve felt quite at home here, so it was a slight wrench to leave. But, onwards we must go, so set off to the airport. The drive in the taxi there was eventful; last night an Argentinean side, Estudiantes, won the Copa Liberatadores (the equivalent of the Champions League in Europe), and the approach road to the airport was dominated by flag waving supporters.

After swapping our remaining Argentinean Pesos for Peruvian Nuevo Soles, we went through security and before we knew it we were looking at our last views of Buenos Aires and Argentina through the plane window.

The flight back to Santiago once again took us straight over the Andes Mountains, and this time the views were out of this world!

Even the cabin crew of the plane were taking pictures; it was that clear and spectacular.

We’re staying overnight in Santiago before catching our next flight tomorrow to Lima in Peru. Our flight tomorrow is first thing in the morning, so we had decided to splash out on an airport hotel for the night, rather than making our way back into Santiago city centre and back again. And when I say airport hotel, the Holiday Inn in Santiago Airport is practically part of the airport. Literally after leaving the arrival gate, we crossed a pedestrian crossing and were there!

The room is quite luxurious,

but the location is something else. It meant that, for the night, the airport terminal was our playground. And we wasted no time at all before getting an All-You-Can-Eat buffet there! For the equivalent of around £9.00 we were getting several 16oz steaks freshly cooked, chicken, pork, rice, chips, deserts, popcorn, waffles – you name it, it was there!

So, waddling back to the hotel after eating the largest meal of our entire trip, we settled back and prepared for our flight tomorrow to the last new country of this trip, deepest darkest Peru!

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There were a couple of options for doing this. We could’ve got a ferry which would’ve taken three hours or a catamaran which took one. Seeing as though the price difference between the two options was only around £12 each, though, we decided we’d rather spend two hours at sea rather than six! So, getting to the Buquebus terminal around 10.30 am,

we bought our tickets on the 11:45am catamaran, got our fifth Argentinean entry/ exit passport stamp, and waited for the ferry to arrive.

After a mad scramble/ free-for-all trying to get decent seats, where we just missed out on the window seats, we were off to visit our penultimate new country!

We were going to a place called Colonia Del Sacremento in Uruguay, and after an hour crossing the River Plate and the estuary leading to the Atlantic Ocean,

we arrived at the port and started to explore.

Not really having a clue about what Colonia had to offer (as you’d expect!) we’d ripped a town plan out of a magazine on the catamaran and headed down Manuel Lobo Street into the town centre.

The first impression of the town was that it was quite pleasant and, after the hustle and noise of Buenos Aires, quite deserted and quiet. There were lots of nice, small houses we passed as we walked, one with a couple of Collie dogs lying down.

As soon as Mandy took the camera out and took a shot of them though, they launched straight at the fence and tried to rip out our jugulars! Five minutes in a new country and we’d already made enemies!

We reached a place called Plaza 1811,

in which a small wooden bridge led through the old city walls.

We don’t know the history of the town, but the walls were fortified, with cannons sitting atop them,

which led us to believe that the town had been some sort of fort at some stage.

I popped up to the top of the fortifications to grab a couple of pictures of the views,

and Mandy (as you would expect) found the nearest Hobbit hole to make a new home in!

Dragging her out of there, we headed towards a lighthouse nearby.

And, seeing as we were making up what we were doing as we went along, we decided to go up it!

Paying our entrance fee (around 50p each) the guy behind the counter warned us that the ceilings were low. So, whilst Mandy actually found an advantage to being a short-arse

I spent most of the climb up the winding steps bent double! But finally, after banging my head on the exit door, we had made it to the top of the lighthouse, and the views over the town of Colonia.

The top of the lighthouse was quite small; you could walk around it in 5 seconds flat! So, having exerted all the effort climbing the stairs to get up there, we quickly came back down again in no time at all!

We continued through the town, heading past a couple of interesting statues on the way,

and an old windmill that had been converted into a café,

before reaching the jetty of the harbour.

According to the map we had, this was the furthest point in the town from our catamaran. And even though we’d been playing in lighthouses and Hobbit holes, it had only taken us thirty minutes to get here! So, not a big town then!

One thing we’ve noticed recently is that a lot of our conversations regarding this trip have become self-referential. For example, whereas at the start of the trip in January we related experiences to things we’d done before we set off, we’ve been on the road so long now that we’re finding ourselves relating new experiences to ones we’ve had in another country on this trip. We had one such occurrence on the jetty here. Whilst visiting Cape Leeuwin in Western Australia back in March, we saw a marker indicating the distances to places such as London and Antarctica. And one of the places it indicated was Montevideo in Uruguay. At the time, the distance was something ridiculous like 13,000km, and we had commented to each other how far away in distance and time it would be before we were anywhere near Montevideo.

Well, nearly four months and several tens of thousands of kilometres later, we had reached as close to Montevideo as we were going to get (it’s a two hour bus ride from Colonia). And we were reminded of this by seeing a boat with Montevideo written on it.

Like I said; completely self referential but it’s times like this that have reminded us just how far and long we have travelled. And for some reason, it felt particularly poignant here.

We carried on, now heading back in the direction of the catamaran port, through more of the pleasant cobbled streets. Whilst Colonia had it’s share of touristy things such as rides in old cars

it didn’t leave us with the feeling that Caminito in La Boca had yesterday. Yes, it’s targeted at tourists with a fair selection of souvenirs to buy, but you are left with the feeling that the town is picturesque anyway and hasn’t been artificially preserved or restored. Just small things such as the tiled street names and signs

were a really nice touch, and added to the charm of the place.

We reached the modern part of the town, and wandered down the main high street, looking for essential quality items to purchase. And so it came to be that I acquired my second South American football shirt, this time a Uruguay one! When we left the shop, having had to buy it from someone who spoke no English, we realised that we’d understood the conversations with the shop assistant perfectly. And it was quite a complex transaction, what with credit cards being rejected and sorting out payment in non-Uruguayan money, but we’d understood everything perfectly! Maybe having been in Spanish speaking countries for nearly a month, it’s rubbing off on us!

One successful purchase later, we decided to head back to the catamaran. Stopping briefly at the Cathedral,

we passed the wooden bridge we’d been on earlier as we left the city walls,

and within five minutes had reached the dock area.

Checking in at the port, we should have paid US$32 port tax to leave the country. But for some unknown (and very much appreciated) reason, nobody asked us for it! Which more than paid for the football shirt!

Making sure that we didn’t miss out on the good seats on the way back, we positioned ourselves in the terminal so that when the gates opened we would be among the first getting onto the catamaran. And sure enough, when they did open, we barged and fought our way to the best seats on the vessel!

So, settling back and watching Uruguay disappear,

we watched the most bizarre sporting event on the TV screens – Men and Women’s speed climbing! It was just an indoor-rock-climbing structure with two competitors competing against each other and was the strangest sporting event I’ve ever seen screened! Absolutely bizarre but strangely compelling viewing! But why they showed it as entertainment for a catamaran crossing I’ll never know!

After an absorbing bit of sporting entertainment, where the competitor on the left ALWAYS seemed to win, we reached Buenos Aires

where we departed the catamaran and headed through the busy streets of the city for the last time.

We’d had a really pleasant and quite relaxing daytrip to Uruguay. Along with Brazil, it’d been a country I mentioned in my very first blog entry that I wasn’t entirely sure we’d make it to. But we did, and we’ll soon have completed the list.

Because tomorrow, we return to Santiago in Chile for the night, before heading to our final new country the next day, Peru.

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Buenos Aires.

Today we had a plan!!!!!!! Finally, after five nights in the city we actually knew what we were going to do!

So first thing on our list. Buy some tickets to get to Uruguay for the day tomorrow!

Off we trotted to Cordoba Street about ten blocks away from the hostel, aiming for the Buquebus ticket office. We arrived there, conversed fully with the receptionist by saying “Can we buy two tickets to Uruguay” in very slow and loud English, and realised we needed our passports to buy them! So, first thing planned and first thing failed!

Second on our list for today was to head a couple of blocks up from Cordoba Street to the San Nicolas area and catch the Buenos Aires Bus – a hop on hop off tourist bus. Our plan here was to get on the bus as a means of getting to La Boca, and also to make sure that we’d seen all the main sights of the city. The buses ran every half an hour, so we turned up at the bus stop and waited. And sure enough, within fifteen minutes a bus turned up……… at the bottom of the street where we were waiting and it continued without stopping!

Now maybe at this stage we should have thought something was amiss. But no! We continued to wait, as we were clearly at a stop and we reasoned that the bus was going on a circular route and would arrive back at this stop.

So we waited.

For another thirty five minutes.

And another bus turned up.

At the bottom of the street where we were waiting and it continued without stopping!

It slowly dawned on us that maybe the bus didn’t stop here anymore! So, looking at the route the bus took, we headed down toward Plaza De Mayo, a twenty minute walk away, to where the bus route started. About half a mile away from the Plaza De Mayo we saw the bus sat waiting. So the walk turned into a strange walking/running hybrid! We reached the bus without it setting off, realised that no-one had even got onto it yet, so went to buy the tickets from the counter inside a ticket booth. And, clutching the prized tickets in our hands, set foot outside the ticket booth to see the bus disappearing into the distance!

At this stage, if we hadn’t already bought the tickets, we would have given it up as a bad joke and gone back to the hostel. But, having spent my 50 Argentinean pesos on the tickets I was damned if I was giving up this easily! So we waited yet another thirty minutes for the next bus!

And finally, two hours after first queuing up in San Nicolas, the bus came and we got onto it!

Sitting on the top deck, we set off, passing a building based upon Dante’s Divine Comedy

and also the Congress Plaza, which was somewhere we hadn’t visited before.

We didn’t get off here though, as our only intended “hop off” was in La Boca, so onwards through the dense Buenos Aires traffic we continued.

After half an hour of passing through places we’d already visited, by which stage we’d given up on the commentary coming through the headphones on the bus (the unadjustable volume would’ve put a jet engine to shame), we arrived in La Boca

and got our first view of the Estadio Del Club Atletico Boca Juniors, which for the benefit of any non Spanish speakers means “Boca Juniors Ground”! See – I’m helpful and informative!!

The bus carried on down the road for another couple of miles

and then stopped at Caminito, the main tourist area of La Boca.

We had mixed feelings about Caminito. It was very pretty, with cobbled streets, colourful buildings and cafés galore.

There were even staff outside the cafes doing the tango, and it undeniably felt Argentinean in a way that, perversely, the rest of the country hadn’t.

But, and it was a big but, it felt too “Disneyfied”. La Boca is one of the poorest and indeed roughest areas in the whole of Buenos Aires. Walk a block away from the cobbles and you entered streets where even the dogs were carrying flick knives. So, quaint though it was, it felt completely false.

We hadn’t come to La Boca though to see cobbled streets and colourful buildings. We’d come to visit the football stadium! So, heading away from the tourist trap of Caminito and walking through streets cordoned off with police incident tape, we reached the Estadio Del Club Atletico Boca Juniors.

Paying 25 Argentinean Pesos each for the museum and stadium entry, our first port of call was a 360 degree cinema presentation inside a football!

Straight away, it re-told us of our lives to date; how we’d grown up in the poorest part of La Boca, the stadium dominating our views growing up, until finally, we’d scored a last minute goal for Boca Juniors coming off the bench! Strangely enough, we thought we’d both grown up on a Rotherham council estate and never played for Boca Juniors in our lives, but it’s amazing what tricks your mind can play on you!

Suffice to say, the 360 degree cinema presentation was irredeemably crap, and I went looking for a counter where I could claim back the last ten minutes of my life!

The museum was quite poor. Apart from a small display of the trophies that Boca Juniors had won,

and a statue to their most famous player, a volleyballer called Diego Maradona, it had little to keep our interest.

So into the stadium proper we now headed.

The ground was one of the strangest I have ever been in. For a start, the layout was in a D shape, with one whole side dedicated to executive and press boxes.

It also felt extremely run down, with graffiti and flaking paint everywhere.

The whole stadium felt like a throwback to the eighties in the UK. Perhaps the biggest indicator of this was the bars and spikes preventing fans from accessing the pitch, something I haven’t seen in the UK since the Hillsborough disaster.

The terracing areas , running all the way to the top of the stadium, also didn’t feel safe.

As an example, the whole rear terracing area only had one row of crush barriers in the entire section! Still, it was the first South American football stadium I had ever been in, and as such was a good experience to have.

And I even got chance to demonstrate what a star I am!!

Leaving the football stadium, I grabbed the chance to grab an iconic picture underneath one of the murals,

and then we popped back down to Caminito to have another wander around the nicely decorated but probably fake streets.

We joined the long line for the bus, which arrived five minutes later, and as we tried to board the conductor indicated that the bus was full! So, for another half an hour, we stood in a line waiting for the next one! Not the most interesting of activities to do!

Finally, after we had started to freeze to death in the queue, the bus arrived and we set off, passing through streets much more representative of La Boca than Caminito.

We finally managed to listen to the commentary, finding some headphones that could reduce the nosebleed volume, and spent a few minutes laughing at the Stephen Hawkins style accent. To the accompaniment of an almost robotic voice, the bus passed through many other areas that we had visited, hitting the rush hour traffic as it travelled along.

It reached a nice area called Plaza Italia, which we hadn’t visited,

and then headed back to the start via Aviendo 9 de Julio.

Getting off the bus, we were frozen solid from the cold of sitting on an open top bus. We headed back to the hostel and it literally took us a couple of hours to warm up!

So the plan worked! It might not have gone as quickly and as smoothly as we wanted today, but it had been a really good day, and we finally realised that we had accomplished everything in Buenos Aires that we needed to do.

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We left the Secret Garden at 12pm, thanking John for his hospitality whilst leaving. It has been a great experience. There are only three guest rooms, it feels more like a home stay than a hotel/ hostel/ B&B, and it was perfect in every way. If we do ever come back here, there’s only one place we’d ever stay. And so with John waving through the gate and Roxy, his dog, sticking her face through the bars, we headed off through Puerto Iguazú and reached the airport around twenty minutes later.

One point of interest about both Puerto Iguazú airport and the Jorge Newberry airport in Buenos Aires is that neither airport have been the slightest bit bothered about fluids being taken through security. For example, today we happily carried an opened 1.5 litre bottle of water through with us. They’re the first airports on our entire trip to allow this, and it seemed strange as we were starting to think that it was a worldwide policy on all flights now to ban liquids in your carry-on luggage. But very civilised it was. If only the other airports allowed it, we could bring some drink back from the trip, something we won’t be able to do unless we take the risk of checking it in our packs!

The flight to Buenos Aires was a bit of a nightmare. We don’t know what the pilot was doing, but he kept accelerating and decelerating the plane mid air, changing altitude all the time, and banking sharply without warning. And then coming into land, he got the “line up with runway part” right but forgot the “put wheels on floor” bit. So, halfway down the runway and merrily passing the terminal building still in mid air, he finally got it right and touched down. Cue massive braking to stop us continuing off the end of the runway and we came to a whiplash inducing stop. The loud cheer which came from a Scottish/ Irish schoolgirls hockey team at the rear of the plane summed up everyone’s feelings to be on firm ground in one piece!

Getting the taxi back to our hostel, we again experienced a side of Buenos Aires that wound us up the last time we arrived here, namely people scamming, or trying to scam you.

We waited in the taxi queue and lifted our packs up, put them into the car ourselves and totally ignored the old guy who had put some other passengers luggage in their boots; there was no need for us to have any assistance. We got into the taxi, and the old guy opened the passenger door and started asking for a tip! Now, if he had done anything, such as lifting our bags off the floor and putting them into the cab we would have given him a couple of pesos. But he did absolutely nothing. Nada. And still wanted paying for the privilege. We refused point blank to pay him anything, really indignant at the blatant cheek of it. And then the taxi driver gave him a two peso note, and totally ripped us off at the other end of the journey to get his money back with interest.

Its times like these that I really wish I knew enough Spanish to stream out a long line of expletives at such people. My thoughts definitely turned to wishing I’d bought hand grenades from Paraguay, because in five minutes of being back in Buenos Aires I could happily have used a couple!

Checking back into our hostel, we popped out for something to eat and then settled down for the night and a proper rest, watching Elf on the TV. And, unlike our last time in Buenos Aires, we now have a plan for the next two days ………..

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I had mentioned right on the very first blog entry back in January that we were going to go to Brazil, but out of all the countries I’d listed this was the most uncertain. We didn’t know what the visa situation would be, we didn’t know what it would cost, and we didn’t even know if we could get a driver to take us. We’d read reports that it was possible to find drivers who would just drive you through the border without stopping, thus negating the need for any visa whatsoever, but we’d decided not to spend the rest of the trip in a Brazilian jail! So it was of some relief that we discovered our brilliant UK passports entitled us to a simple, free border crossing without any fees or waiting! For the Americans staying at the Secret Garden, it would cost them US$150 dollars each and at least a three hour wait for a visa!

So, within five minutes we had reached the Argentinean border,

completed the exit formalities, and then found ourselves driving on a bridge in no-mans-land between Argentina and Brazil!

After arriving at the Brazilian checkpoint, we got our sparkling Brazilian passport stamps, and then entered Brazil! We don’t know why, after all the places we’ve visited on this trip, but being in Brazil felt so exotic!!

Our first stop of the day was at the Brazilian side of Iguazú Falls, at a place called Foz do Iguaçu.

Having paid our entrance fee of 8 Euros each, we jumped on the free bus to take us the several kilometres from the park entrance to the waterfalls.

Getting off the bus at the hotel within the national park, we headed down a long, winding track, getting our first views of the falls.

The main reason for coming over to the Brazilian side of the falls is to see the whole panorama of the Argentinean side. So, ironically, although the best falls are in Argentina, you can’t really appreciate them entirely without going to Brazil!

Straight away, we knew that we were experiencing something absolutely phenomenal. The water breaking down the cliffs, surrounded by Amazonian rainforest (it’s the same vegetation here as in the Amazon) was a sight we’d been waiting our whole lives to see.

The best thing about it, as well, was that the views just didn’t stop. Each bend in the track gave a new perspective, and it seemed, a new waterfall to look at,

and the views just kept coming

and coming

and coming!

The largest, most powerful waterfall in Iguazú Falls is the Devils Throat, and it was to the walkway here that we now headed.

The noise was pure exhilaration; millions of gallons of water torrenting relentlessly over the void to the rocks below. It became quite exciting for one little ‘un in our party!

We continued along the walkway, looking at an overhang complete with a rainbow on one of smaller falls,

and then reached the end of the walkway for our first full view of the Devils Throat.

The spray from the water was everywhere, instantly soaking us through,

And the little ‘un again got rather over excited!

We walked back along the walkway, getting different angles on the falls at each stage

and then headed to a nearby glass elevator right at the side of another waterfall

to take us back to the top of the cliffs.

The views again from here were something else; we could even see the platform for the Devils Throat on the Argentinean side right in the distance, a place we were going to later today!

Getting the bus back to the front entrance, we met back up with Filisberto and headed back to Argentina, crossing the bridge back across the border.

We’d been in Brazil for only three hours, but what a three hours it was!

So, the Brazilian side now a receding memory in our five second attention spans, we headed into the Argentinean side of Iguazú Falls. Slightly more expensive to get into than the Brazilian side, at 60 Argentinean Pesos each, it nonetheless had much more facilities available.

The first thing we did on entering the park was to purchase a Jungle Explorer ticket. This gave us a one hour trip in a combination of an army truck followed by a speedboat ride into the waterfalls.

The army truck element of the trip, which involved driving bumpily through rainforest and mud and looking at, errrr, tree after tree after tree wasn’t something to remember for the rest of our lives.

But the speedboat element definitely was!

Having descended a series of steps for what seemed like a lifetime, we finally reached the river and the speedboat below.

The first surprise was being given a waterproof bag and being told to take our shoes and socks off! Slightly concerned as to how wet this was going to get, we did as we were told, and put the bright orange lifejackets on, which felt more restrictive than an alcoholic attending a temperance society meeting!

Mandy had the bright idea of bringing an emergency waterproof poncho with her, which she had been bought as a leaving present from work. My work hadn’t bought me a waterproof emergency poncho, so I zipped my jacket up! Guess which one of us stayed drier. Read on to find out! You won’t be kept in suspense long!

The boat set off! And straight away, we hit a wave on the rapids, a great splodge of water came over the side of the boat, and every item of clothing I was wearing was instantly soaked!

It went through my leather jacket, my Adidas top, and my t-shirt, such was the deluge! And it wasn’t over yet!

Pausing to allow for photos to be taken of the falls

(allowing me time to fit my waterproof camera casing I bought in Cairns), we then proceeded to head right over to the falls. The driver of the boat tantalisingly held back to enable us to see the rush of water right in front of us,

and then pressed down the accelerator and drove right through the spray!

If there was any piece of me that wasn’t saturated before, it certainly was now! Imagine a swimming pool being emptied over your head and you’re not even close! But it was a pure, 100% adrenaline rush and immense fun.

The boat trip ended, and we then had the unenviable task of negotiating miles of steep steps to reach the top of the falls again. Although the views were often stunningly beautiful,

we were more concerned with trying to keep our jeans from falling down from the thirteen stones of extra water we’d accumulated!

Finally reaching the summit after about forty five minutes of climbing, we reached a fast food area, complete with the Coati animals that frequent the falls,

and had a quick lunch of Chicken Empanadas before continuing.

We jumped onto the train going to the Argentinean side of the Devils Throat; the train was so slow in taking off and moving that it occurred to us we could’ve walked the three km quicker and we were a bit bemused by it all!

But then the train gradually picked up speed, and we were much happier bunnies!

On reaching the Devils Throat train station, we still had a fair walk to do in our soaked clothes before actually reaching it. Proceeding along the walkways

it was hard to imagine that the quiet waters we could see along the way would soon turn into a raging torrent.

But, we turned a corner and saw the start of the waterfall.

This was without a doubt the most stunning sight of the day, and the most impressive natural phenomena we had seen in our entire lives.

It’s hard to describe the feeling seeing the mass of water plummet downwards. Photographs don’t go any way to capturing this. Neither, I suspect, will the video I shot. It just leaves you completely in awe, and is almost dizzying to watch.

It was impossible to see the bottom of the falls, such was the wall of spray that was being thrown into the atmosphere.

We could just make out the Brazilian side we had been on this morning

and the views looking back towards the Brazilian side were spectacular in the extreme.

It was purely a “once-in-a-lifetime” moment, and one that we will never forget.

We caught the train back to the Central Station, and took a walk on the Upper Trail, walking over the tops of the waterfalls the boat had ploughed us through.

And then we headed towards the Sheraton Hotel, where we had arranged to meet Filisberto at 6:15pm. Passing a strangely located lighthouse-esque structure,

I found enough energy levels to run up it and stick my tongue out at Mandy below,

before we reached the Sheraton,

took in one last view of the falls

and then went to meet Filisberto as the sun finally died for the day. Driving back we were soaked, absolutely exhausted, and absolutely elated at the day

We went for a couple of caipirinhas that night, meeting a couple of new guests from St Louis, but we were so tired that we couldn’t really be sociable. So we made our excuses and left, falling asleep in bed at the unbelievably early time of 9:40pm.

Amazing, amazing day. And we so very nearly missed it out! There’s an often repeated phrase attributed to former first lady of the US, Eleanor Roosevelt, who on seeing Iguazú Falls for the first time expressed “Poor Niagara”. I hate using this phrase here, because for some reason it strikes me as a bit lame, but it is so apt. We went to Niagara Falls a few years ago, and for ages it remained one of our favourite sights, surpassing even the Grand Canyon in our esteem. But it just doesn’t compare to Iguazú Falls in any respect.

This truly is the best waterfall in the world.

What a day!

Vá a Brasil! remains copyright of the author mancmiller, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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