Big Fat South American Blog

If there´s anyone at all that bothers to read this, then I apologise for not updating it or making it more entertaining or whatever, and most of all, for the complete lack of photos (excepting one, of course). Assuming that there are people reading this, here´s what´s been going down.

The last time I wrote something that wasn´t a Ricky Gervais Show fan fiction, we´d just arrived in Cusco. We spent a couple of days there before setting off on a 4 day trek to Machu Picchu. The trek itself was lots of fun, walking through the Lares valley in the Andes. We had to climb 3 mountain passes, the highest we got was 4600 metres, I indulged in some high altitude dancing (not a good idea), and camped at 4300 metres. It got very cold at night, and I went to the toilet (read: hole in the ground), couldn´t find it, slipped over on the ice, and thought I´d never find my way back to the tent.

Upon finishing the bulk of the trek in a town called Ollytaytambo, the rest of the group collapsed in a cafe or bar. This kind of laziness doesn´t appeal to Steve and I, so we went and climbed the hundreds of steps at the Inca temple that overlooks the town. Then we climbed the mountain that overlooks the Inca temple. Following this we chowed on guinea pig (disappointing) and drank coca tea by the gallon. Caught the train to Agua Caliente (remember trains?) and slept.

4am next morning we caught the bus up to Machu Picchu. I´ll let the picture below do the talking for now, but after strolling round it, Steve and I found it nessecary to climb another mountain that overlooks the complex. Not the smartest move at midday in subtropical conditions, but even though it was about 10 times harder than the 4 day trek, it was worth it when we got to the top.

Back to Cusco on train, went to see a football match (Cusco v Liverpool from Uruguay). Spent a week or so in Cusco, did some white water rafting, made some friends, more Incan temples, explored markets, and Steve did the highest bungee jump in the Americas (4th highest in the world). I got up there and chickened out like the spineless gimp I am.

From Cusco we got an overnight bus to Nazca, arriving at 7.30am. By 9.00am we were on a 5 seater plane flying over the desert, admiring the mysterious Nazca lines below. We then crashed out at a hostel, ate suspect hamburgers, generally killing time before our second nightbus in a row.

Arrived in Arequipa early the next morning and found a cool little hostel. We were in a small dorm with a middle aged american an (we affectionately called him "Baldy") who liked to get naked in front of us (4 times in one day, seriously wtf). Walked down, camped in, swam in, then up Colca Canyon, the deepest canyon in the world. Lots of fun. Got seriously screwed over with bus tickets by a tourist operator named David. I´m gonna suckerpunch him if I ever see him again. Made me feel like a complete tourist (which, of course I am, but I don´t like to be reminded of it).

HORRIBLE bus ride from Arequipa to Puno - the hottest, slowest bus in the world (which upon starting off had no problem playing a game of chicken with oncoming taxis and oil tankers, but once on the highway slowed to a painful 4km an hour). Had possibly the best pizza I´ve ever had in Puno, and the next morning (another early start...) got a boat to the Uros Islands on Lake Titicaca. These islands are manmade from reeds, have been there for about 1200 years or so. Steve and I chatted with the islands´leader, and had a look round his house. Then a 3 hour boat trip to Amantani Island, where we stayed the night with a family. Not native Spanish speakers, they spoke the Incan language of Qechua, although Ismael the father and one of the sons spoke some Spanish. We played a game of football with some of the locals (at about 4000m this was particularly knackering) and, er, went to a fiesta at night (the less said about our traditional costumes the better). The best part? Watching the youngest sons reaction as I moved my ears up and down, and teaching him how to play thumb wars.

So despite all this cool stuff, at the moment I´m holed up in the back room of a ladies sportswear shop which is also doubling as an internet cafe, feeling completely under the weather, and not looking forward to the early morning start tomorrow.

One good thing will come of it however: by 10.00am we´ll have crossed into Bolivia...

ps. social faux pas of the trip so far...
Gareth to 6 year old Uros Island girl (in spanish): Where is your bed?