Sunday in Lima

We didn´t do much in Lima today. Of course, we had a whole list of things to do before realising that it´s Sunday, and not much would be open. We slept in, found a great place down the street for tamales, walked around a bit then went back to our hotel. In reading our Peru book, Nigel realised that the post office would actually be open, so we packed up our stuff to ship home and set out. But by the time we had it all ready to ship, it was going to cost way too much money, so we decided we´d rather lug it around for a few more weeks rather than spend more money. So we brought it all back to the hotel before setting out to Barrio Chino (Chinatown) for lunch. Well, it wasn´t much of a Chinatown, so we wasted some time on the internet before heading out for a few beers. We then had a late dinner down the street at an average restaurant, and went to bed.

Tear Gas Burgers

Most of today was spent sitting on the bus. Throughout the night, the driver kept stopping for about 5-10 minutes at a time. At one stage we were stopped for quite a while, and we heard 2 guys under the bus, their tools clanking on the road. Great, that´s all we need is a broken down bus. But the bus survived, we survived the string of movies dubbed in Spanish, and we made it to Lima around 4:00. The sick girl looked pretty healthy in the morning, I guess it was the fresh air that did her good. We took a taxi to Hotel España where they rude, abrupt lady at the counter didn´t have our reservation (although I got a confirmation email) but luckily they had rooms. We dropped our gear and headed out for a few beers before getting some dinner. We chose to go back to the same place as last time we were in Lima where we quickly had to change our order to go because of the tear gas bomb released by the riot police. We wandered back to our hotel, read a bit, and went to bed.

Heading back to Lima

We should have just gone out and joined that big ol´ fiesta last night, because it certainly kept us awake for half of the night. But we´re glad we didn´t because the band was the same as the horrible screeching DVD concerts played in most pubs (which we´ve since learned is called ´reggae-ton), except for it was LIVE and even louder! Every 10th line of each song seemed to be `¡Arriba, Machu Picchu!` and `¡Buenos noches, buenos noches, buenos noches, Machu Picchu, Machu Picchu, Machu Picchu!` intertwined into the song lyrics. This bit is meant to get the crowd to sing along, much like Eminem waving one arm and trying to get his crowd to join in on the singing. Annoyed as we were, it was their independence celebration, and we weren´t going to complain. And I did get a nice big giggle at one of the songs when ´¡Pla-ta-no, pla-ta-no, pla-ta-no!` was one song´s crowd-getter. Plàtano means ´banana´ in Spanish.

We packed up our gear and checked out of our hotel before finding a small local place for breakfast. This was pretty hard to do since Aguas Calientes is 99% touristy, but we did find one and were rewarded with a delicious, cheap breakfast where the staff did not try to rip us off. We then headed down to the railroad tracks and sat in the shade to wait for our train. This train was only 15 minutes late leaving, and although we paid the same price (US$25.58) it wasn`t as nice as the one the other day. Still fine, but not worth the price. Arriving back in Ollantaytambo, it was a circus with everyone getting off the train and trying to find the right bus to get on. We asked every driver there if we were on their bus, but none of them had our names down. We had paid for the bus back to Cusco, but it didn´t seem to be there. And everyone was leaving. We had bus tickets leaving at 6pm from Cusco to Lima and were afraid we´d get stuck in Ollantaytambo and miss our bus. So we hopped on the first bus that offered us a ride for 5 soles (not much, but we had already paid for a ride).

Back in Cusco, we headed straight for the office where we booked our ´package´ ready to demand our money back for the guide we didn´t get at Machu Picchu and the bus ride back to Cusco that we didn´t get. But the office was closed. We sat there for over an hour waiting, left to buy some food for our 25 hour bus ride to Lima, then went back and waited another 45 minutes. We called every number we had for the place. Finally Nigel got through to the guy´s son, who said could we come back tomorrow? The phone then cut out and we didn´t want to waste any more money which we knew we wouldn´t get back, so we just left and went to the bus station. Why the heck to we book these things anyway??? Surely we`ve learned our lesson by now, haven`t we?

We waited about 45 minutes at the bus station before getting on the bus that would take us all the way to Lima. Our seats were supposed to be `semi-cama` (semi-bed) and lay back with a leg rest and plenty of leg room, but they were just normal seats that may have reclined a bit more, but had even less leg room due to the fact that the only ´semi-cama´ seats on the bus were in front of us. I tried to argue with the girls at the desk, but they were not nice and no one wanted to help us out, so I just got on the bus and we left. We did get 3 small meals on the way (1 dinner, 1 breakfast, 1 lunch), and they showed several movies. To start, they showed ´Maid in Manhattan` and `Cheaper By The Dozen`--not the greatest movies but they were in English, so we thought that was a bonus. Maybe it was becuse our seats were crammed but we were roasting during the first few hours of the trip and we had the window open. This apparently wasn´t the case for the 10 rows behind us. Nige got a tap on the shoulder and was asked to close the window and, in his limited Spanish, exclaimed ´No, Mucho Caliente!´ and turned away. Another lady then approached us and I said in Spanish, with finality, ´No! it is too hot in here and I won´t shut the window.` Then another girl approached us from further back and again I again said ´No.` Then she said she was sick and has asthma to which Nige said ´No shit, so do I.` We didn´t seem to have any complaints from westerners. I guess we all know the benefits of a little fresh air. Anyway, we didn´t shut the window and everyone survived. Oh yeah the bus smelled like a toilet and got progressivly worse throughout the journey.

Machu Picchu

We were at the bus stop for our ride up the mountain to the ruins at Machu Picchu before 6:00. A big effort on our part, I know, but we were excited. We got on a bus and shortly afterwards it left for the 8km trip up the hill. I think we were on the 2nd bus. We reached the ticket gate, which had a huge queue, but we already had our tickets, so we went straight in. We followed a path before immediately turning left and climbing up a steep hill to reach `the spot` for that `classic` view of Machu Picchu. You know, the one that is in every photo and guidebook on the planet. And it was here we got our first view of the ruins. We were not disappointed. Even though the view IS in all of the photos and guidebooks, it is still spectacular. We couldn´t believe we were standing there. It was a similar feeling to the one we had at our first glimpse at the pyramids of Giza.

Although it was light out, the sun still had not risen above the towering mountains, and it was chilly. We just sat there for at least an hour, enjoying the view of the ruins and the views of the surrounding Andes. In fact, throughout the day, it´s possible we enjoyed the mountain views a bit more than the ruins themselves. Machu Picchu was discovered in 1911 by American Hiram Bingham (I kept thinking of Chandler Bing) while he was searching for the legendary lost city of Vilcabamba. Not much is known about Machu Picchu because there are no written records of it, and in fact, the Spanish conquistadors who took over Peru never even knew it exists. It is not even known how old the ruins are, but a good guess is around 500 years old. As a result of this lack of knowledge, archaeologists rely on speculation and educated guesses as to Machu Picchu`s history. This was clearly evident to us as we eavesdropped on many guides throughout the day and heard different ´stories´ and explanations from each (we were supposed to have a guide too, but we didn´t meet up with her earlier as we wanted to get up to M.P. on the first bus and we never found her the rest of the day). Of course Nigel and I assigned our own explanations to things, as we do at all ruins we visit. It makes it much more fun and interesting, and, being educated people, our guess is as good as theirs, right?

After the sun rose and warmed us up, we spent the next few hours wandering around the ruins. It seems that M.P. was a little Incan village of some sort, with temples, tombs, plazas, prisons, farm plots, and residences scattered about on top of this mountain. Some of the buildings are constructed of random stones and others are more carefully put together with perfectly fitting carved stones. Some of these carved stones are bigger than either Nigel or I, making us wonder (like the pyramids), how the heck did they do it? Although the town looks relatively small from `the spot,` we were surprised at how big the village actually is, once we were among it and walking around. The site is also inhabited by a small herd of llamas which are still relatively shy of humans. Really we think they are sick of people interrupting their grazing to pat them and take silly photos of them. Nige stood and watched (and attempted to take countless photos of) some hummingbirds in a tree amongst the ruins. Some were normal hummingbird size and a beautiful shining green but one was tiny, barely bigger than a bumblebee. After some time, we hiked along a jungle path along a cliff to the Inca Bridge. In order to get across a steep part of the cliff, the Incans built up a rock wall and a small drawbridge to continue one of their many mountain paths to who knows where. We then went back to the main ruins and sat for over an hour, eating some snacks and again just enjoying the view. Nearby there was a beautiful eagle of some sort that was taking some crackers from a tourist. We think it was a bit old or sick due to the lump on it´s chest and the fact that it was becoming dependent on humans (being animal experts and all). It was still great to get close to such a beautiful bird. By this time it was after 1:00 and we had been up there for 7 hours. The sun was hot and fierce, and I was covered in tiny bites. I didn't realize I was getting bites of course, until I looked down and had all these tiny spots of blood on my legs. There are these tiny black bastard bugs up there, and you can´t even feel they´re on you, let along biting you. So, reluctantly, we headed back down the mountain.

We have heard from more than a handful of people that Machu Picchu is disappointing. Why this may be the case for some could be attributed to the fact that it is so heavily photographed. Or maybe it´s because the ruins are small and isolated. Or maybe it´s due to the hassle in getting there, especially now with all of the governmental B.S. that is involved. But whatever their reasons, we felt that Machu Picchu is anything but disappointing. Just the setting alone makes the vist worthwhile, and that doesn´t even include the rich Incan history behind it all.

Back in town, we had a late lunch, where again the restaurant tried to rip us off, but we were on to them. When we returned to our hotel, the girl tried to kick us out. She explained (all in Spanish) that when we checked in yesterday, we told her we only wanted to stay 1 night. Now she has a reservation for 5 people in our basement room. I explained that when we checked in (with a different girl), we told her two of us were staying only 1 night (the Aussie and the Frenchie) and 2 of us were staying 2 nights. We would look today for 2 others to fill the beds later in the afternooon. She clearly understood me and all was okay. But the story was changed now, and the girl said we had to go find another hotel. Since it was around the same time as yesterday when we were walking around struggling to find a place, I knew our chances were slim to none. So, I just explained that it isn´t our fault, it is their problem, and we are NOT leaving. After some arguing (the girl who checked us in yesterday was there, and she didn´t argue with my version of things) she decided that they `all of a sudden` have a free double room upstairs, which is normally 50 soles but we can have for 45. But we were only paying 30 for the basement room, which we had booked for 2 nights, and no way were we paying more. We argued back and forth and eventually the girl relented. I think deep down she knew she was screwing us over. In fact, after thinking about it, we think that she KNEW we wanted the beds for 2 nights, and that someone had rung only that morning to make a booking for 5 people, and she could get more money from 5 than from 4, so she decided to kick us out on the street to make an extra 15 soles. Although she was a total bee-atch to us the rest of the evening and the next morning, I´m glad we didn´t let her screw us over like the lady yesterday and held our ground, refusing to leave. By the way, the hotel is called Chaska Hotel and I wouldn´t recommend giving them your patronage.

After that ordeal, we wandered around the maze of markets, each stall selling only a slight variation of the ones next to and across from it. We then went out for some cheap beer and cards before heading to the same hamburger stand for a cheap, delicious dinner. On our way back to our room, we saw that people were setting up some tents and a bandstand for a fiesta. Today is Peru´s Independence, so we asked some girls sitting nearby, and sure enough, there was to be a huge fiesta later. We would have gone back to help them celebrate, but there was a covercharge and we didn´t really feel like paying. Plus, by this time, those oh-so-tiny bites I got up on Machu Picchu had turned red, swollen and SO ITCHY...they may as well have been mosquito bites. I counted exactly 22 on each leg. Weird. Maybe it´s the magic Inca number. Whatever, I was feeling miserable. So we headed to bed.

Gettin` screwed in Machu Picchu

We were up early this morning, checked out of our hotel, and just had time to grab an egg sandwich for breakfast before being picked up and taken to our bus for the 2 hour ride northwest to Ollantaytambo to catch our train (the only way to get to Aguas Calientes, at the base of Machu Picchu, is to take a train or to hoof it). Supposedly all of the trains from Cusco to Augas Calientes are full, but you can get on the train at Ollantaytambo. Whatever. So we got on a small bus and waited for over half an hour before it took off.

The drive was absolutely breathtaking. The bus wound its way through mountains, small villages and valleys filled with farmland and surrouded by the Andean snow-capped peaks. The elevation dropped from 3326m in Cusco to 2800m. We were dropped off at the chaos that is the tiny Ollantaytambo train station. Buses full of people heading for the train were arriving at the same time as a whole train full of people from Aguas Calientes. Some were coming, some were going, and amid it all were the ladies selling their crafts and food, as well as all of the locals waiting for their train. Foreigners have to take the tourist train and are not allowed on the local train, thus requiring us to pay at least 100x the price.

Our train was about 30 minutes late, but we quickly settled into our seats as soon as it arrived. It is a fairly nice train, the seats similar to a large bus, with 2 facing another 2 across a small table. Nice, but not worth the US$25.58 it costs for one way. The train took under 2 hours and was another ride full of breathtaking scenery. Dropping even further in elevation, it was amazing to see the change in environments, from snow covered mountains to valley farmland and down into lush jungle.

The train pulled up in Aguas Calientes...literally, it pulled up right into the centre of town with shops, restaurants, and hotels lining both sides of the tracks. Aguas Calientes, so named because of the hot springs in town, is home to only about 2000 people. I think all 2000 make their livings from the tourists to Machu Picchu in some way or another. Supposedly it´s not even called Aguas Calientes but is really named Machu Picchu Pueblo. If you ignore the crappy souvenier shops and stalls, rip-off prices at every restaurant, bar and hotel, and the constant hassle from touts, it´s a town set in the most gorgeous place. It´s nestled right on the bottom of a deep valley along the Rio Urubamba and surrounded on all sides by towering Andean mountains.

We put on our packs and set out to find a place to stay. About 20 hotels and a trudge up the hilly alleys later, we still hadn´t found a hotel and things were not looking too good. Well, actually, we DID have a room at one stage. A lady on the street approached us, and we all agreed on a price (35 soles) before she led us to her hotel/home. It looked good, so we said we´d take it. We dropped our packs on the bed and started unloading a few things while the woman went into the ensuite bathroom to turn on the shower to prove there is hot water. A few moments later, we heard her brother/husband/son or whoever he was shout out to her. She left the room and then came back and said `Señora, la habitaciòn cuesta 55 soles.` (Ms., the room costs 55 soles). What!??? Apparently what happened is that the brother/husband/son dude got a better offer on the street, and the lady was either demanding more than their offer or she was kicking us out!! ¡Què terrible! What a bee-atch! (perra)

Back on the prowl, we ran into an Aussie girl, Yvette, who was madly trying to find a bed for the night too. She had arrived last night and spent the night on the streets of Aguas Calientes with at least 30 others because there were no vacancies. Just as Nigel and I started choosing our benches for the night, a very nice lady (who was renting towels and bathing suits--yuck--to people for the hot springs) noticed us chatting and asked if we needed ´una habitacion´. Yes!! So she rang her friend, who said they had a room for 4 people (we had already decided to join forces with Yvette and a French guy she had met yesterday in the hopes that a room for 4 might be more available than 2 rooms for 2). The girl from the hotel even came to find us so we would know where to find the place. She led us to the place and we took a huge room with 4 beds, at only 15 soles each! Bargain!

Happy with the knowledge we wouldn´t be sleeping on a park bench that night, the 3 of us (Frenchie was still up at Machu Picchu) set out to find some lunch, being nearly 3:00 by this time. Too starving to be too picky, we found a place offering a personal pizza (those crazy pizzas are everywhere!), garlic bread and a coke for 10 soles. Maybe more than we´d like to pay, but it seemed like a good deal for Aguas Calientes, since the prices of everything are heavily jacked up here. We ate our pizzas and drank our cokes, and Yvette asked about our garlic bread. The waiter explained, `No, es diez soles para una pizza y una coca-cola O ajo de pan` (No, it´s 10 soles for a pizza and a coke OR garlic bread). Well, the sign that got us eating there in the first place CLEARLY says ´Pizza Y ajo de pan Y coke´ (Pizza AND garlic bread AND a coke). Yvette really wanted the garlic bread, and we really didn´t feel like getting screwed again today, so with the help of Benjamin (the Frenchie who had shown up by this stage), we debated the point with the waiter and finally got our garlic bread too. We weren´t charged for the bread, but we were charged a 3 soles ´service fee.´ It´s arguable whether or not this would have shown up on the bill anyway (apparently some restaurants in Peru charge random taxes and charges, but we´ve been here nearly 3 weeks and haven´t experienced it once), but we paid it and got the hell out of there.

After a quick stop at the police station to pick up Aussie and Frenchie´s packs (they had left them there while they went to Machu Picchu first thing this morning), we went back to the hotel and all of us had a short little nap. We woke up and, low and behold, it was beer o´clock. So we went to a locals place just around the corner for cheap, cold beer, suffered through their blaring music DVDs of screeching Peruvian women in concert, and then found a hamburguesa stand for dinner. For only 3 soles (AU$1.25) we got a huge, fresh burger (breaded chicken, like a schnitzel) with tomato, lettuce and papas fritas (french fries) on the burger, plus a drink. And we had all the mustard, ketchup and ajì (a chili sauce) we wanted. It was a great burger and an even better bargain, especially for Aguas Calientes, gringo capital of Peru (we thought that title belonged to Cusco, but we were wrong). We all headed back to our room and went to bed as we all had to be up before 6 the next day.

Another Parade Day

Kids Parade day Cusco
Originally uploaded by wapstar.

Still stuck in Cusco while waiting to get to Machu Picchu, we didn't do much again today. We walked around some (there was yet another huge parade on the plaza, tons and tons of school kids marching in their uniforms and carrying their school flags), when to the bus station to buy some tickets, used the internet, had fried rice for lunch, booked some flights to Iquitos, used the internet some more (where they blasted Air Supply and other equally old-school tunes) then went to the pub for cheap beer and to play some cards before heading out for Mexican food for dinner.

I thought God was free!???

Grand Master, Cusco Peru
Originally uploaded by wapstar.

Not much was accomplished today. First thing in the morning we booked a trip to Machu Picchu. The Peruvian government has changed regulations in regards to seeing this magnificent archaeological site, which is good for the site but bad for tourists. To get there, you have to hike with an organized tour, take a train, or a bus from Aguas Calientes. We debated doing the hike (long since booked out, as there is a daily maximum limit, but many places are advertising spaces) but decided our health is more important. In fact, there are several reasons not to do the hike. 1)it´s WAY overpriced!; 2)the fees you do pay go to the tour operators and not to the locals or to conservation of the trail and site; 3)we hate to encourage the government to continue to rip tourists off; 4)the altitude is pretty harsh on us, and who knows how we would go, and in the worst-case scenario, it´s too high up for a helicopter rescue (my sister and her husband were in a pretty bad state when they hiked the trail a few years ago, a nightmare we all choose to forget). So, we chose to go by bus, because you can leave from Aguas Calientes around 6:00 am and have a decent amount of time at the site before all of the day trip people arrive. But the only way to get to Aguas Calientes is by train. And tourists are not longer allowed to take the local train, they have to take the tourist train at about 1000x the price. And of course they are all nearly booked up. So we managed to find a deal leaving on the 27th. We were happy to find something at least, but not too excited about being stuck in Cusco for the next 2 days.

After arranging our travels, we bought some tamales from a lady on the steps of one of the alleys and ate them on the fountain in the plaza. We then treated ourselves to a 'real' latte at a cafe on the plaza and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering up the alleys away from the plaza. We 'hiked' up to La Iglesia de San Cristobal and sat on a bench enjoying the views from our height over the city. I say 'hiked' because it wasn't a very long walk, but because of the altitude we get winded pretty quickly (as does almost everyone else, we've noticed). We then got the idea to continue walking up to Cristo Blanco, a huge statue of Jesus Cristo sitting on top of the mountain overlooking the city. We were nearly almost there anyway. We walked along the road until we reached a stairway that appeared to lead up to where we wanted to be. But to use this path required that we have a Boleto Touristico, a tourist ticket necessary to enter nearly every church, museum and archaeological site in and around Cusco. Since they are about $35AU and we weren't too keen on seeing most of the things in Cusco, we didn't buy one. So, even though we protested that 'Jesus Cristo es para todos las personas del mundo' we still had to pay to walk up the path. We decided not to. We could have walked around along the road, but this probably would have taken at least an hour or two, and we still didn't know if we'd be stopped at some point without a tourist ticket.

So, back down the hill we went, where we had an afternoon snack of yogurt and granola/muesli and a hot drink before heading to our cheap beer place. We had some cold beer and played some cards, then headed back to the same cheap Mexican restaurant for dinner. This time we were treated to a live 6 person Andean band while we ate. They are so talented and can play more than one instrument simultaneously. It was a great way to end a pretty uneventful day.

Military parade, Peruvian beer, and Mexican food

Cusco was the capital of the Incan Empire and is South America's oldest inhabited city. It was populated by the Incans until the Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizzaro stormed south from Ecuador through Peru, conquoring the natives and capturing and killing Atahualpa, the Inca Emperor, in 1532. In 1536 the Incans rebelled in battle, but lost, and the Spanish finally had Cusco. But since the Spainairds were seafaring people, they didn't have much use for the mountainous city of Cusco and soon abandoned it.

Today, some of the city's buildings are still supported by stone walls built by the Incans, huge blocks of stone perfectly cut and fitted together like jigsaw pieces. Not too unlike the blocks used to build the Egyptian pyramids. Most of the streets surrounding the central plaza are narrow, cobble-stoned alleys, some of them rising in steep stone stairways through shops, restaurants and neighbourhoods. It takes a lot of energy and effort to see past the millions of tourist shops, western restaurants, touts selling the same crap every 10 feet, and countless tour agencies all selling the same trips. But once we did manage to get past this (it took a while), we found that it's not too bad.

We woke up early for us, and headed down to the plaza to get some breakfast and coffee. And, low and behold, there was another military parade on. This one was much bigger than the one in Arequipa, but pretty much the same. We watched a bit of it, then wound our way through the locals and Peruvian tourists to a cafe on the plaza for coffee, yogurt and muesli. We still had a great view of all that was happening from the cafe. We spent most of the afternoon wandering around town, half-heartedly searching for ways to get to Machu Picchu. But being Sunday, most places were shut (though oddly they all re-opened later in the evening). We had a cheap 'set menu' lunch of soup and pizza (you cannot get away from pizzas in Peru. They are everywhere!), then hiked up one of the hills through alleyways and found a small local restaurant selling cheap, cold beer. We greatly enjoyed a few beverages while playing cards, then went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner, chosen because of the price. The food turned out to be excellent, filling, and cheap (by Cusco standards). And we got free red wine with our meal, so who could argue?

Returning back to our hotel, we didn't even attempt a semi-not even lukewarm shower and went straight to bed.

Losing Marbles

After a hot shower this morning, we had a quick breakfast, checked out of our hotel, then headed to the bus station to get a ride north to Cusco. It was just after 10:00, and we managed to find a bus with a toilet leaving around noon. While waiting, some local kids (supposed to be working shining shoes) got Nigel to play some sort of marble game with them, then some sort of caps game. Our bus finally turned up just after 12, but we had to wait until the staff and local women passengers got on top of the bus and loaded on about 50 live chickens and probably over 2,000 eggs.

The ride north to Cusco took about 7 hours. Nige began to develop a migraine after only about an hour, so the rest of the ride was pretty miserable. By the time we reached Cusco though, the drugs he took and sleep he managed to get had helped and he was feeling a bit better. Although still high at over 3300m, we were glad to descend the 500m from Puno. We took a taxi to the Plaza de Armas and Nige had a seat on the steps of the cathedral while I wandered around the tiny alleys and streets looking for a hotel with both availability and affordable prices. We knew this would be a problem because it is the highest tourist season plus a national holiday coming up. After not finding much about 10 hotels later, I found Nigel, we donned our packs and set off in a different direction. We tried probably 10 more hotels before finding a cute place not too far from the plaza, and not up a huge steep stairway alley--a huge bonus! Plus it was cheaper than we've been paying, so we felt lucky.

We dropped our gear, then went to find some food. It was already pretty clear Cusco is more expensive and touristy than anywhere else in Peru, so we were on a mission to find somewhere cheap. We found Coco Loco. It was packed with locals, always a good sign, and we had good food too. Dodging the countless touts and people trying to get us into their dodgy nightclubs, we made our way back to our hotel (frozen popsicles by this stage) and went to bed.

Huevos Frescos

This morning we woke up to the sounds of the family sheep baaaing, and the family donkey braaaying. I felt so much better, it was amazing (still not 100%, but a vast improvement). We played with the younger kids a bit, then had fried egg sandwiches (we had to wait for the chickens to lay the eggs) for breakfast before the girls walked us down the hill to the boat. Once everyone was on board (the 30 from yesterday, plus a few others), we set off to the nearby island called Isla Taquille. This is a much more touristy island than Isla Amantaní. We got off the boat, then walked for about 30 minutes up hill (thanks to feeling better, we were able to actually do this) to the town centre. We walked along a stone path, through farm plots and past homes and children going off to school. The path followed along the water up the hill, and then dropped down into the town.

The town centre looked like a huge asphalt playground. Not very exciting. There were a few boys running around, chasing after a rolling bike tyre and hitting it with half of a plastic water bottle (cut lengthwise) attached to a stick. Here we just sat there wondering why we were here, trying to fend off the kids selling woven bracelets. We bought some fruit and snacks at a stall, and Nige had a snack of a grilled alpaca and salsa sandwich. Our guide Gonzalo then told us that the boat would not be departing until 1 pm. And it was only 10:30. With nothing to do, we headed down the hill to the other side of the island where the boats were docked. And we sat on the boat playing cards until 1:00 when we finally took off. A pretty useless and boring morning.

It took about 3 hours to get back to Puno and the mainland. The lake was rough, and a lot of people were not feeling well at all. Luckily, we had no problems and just enjoyed the boat ride. Back in town, we had a hot shower at our hotel, found a cute hole-in-the-wall place for a delicous tamale snack with a cup of hot tea, then used the internet for a while before having some fantastic Chinese food for dinner. A nice treat for a change. It was pretty early by the time we got to bed, but we were exhausted.

Freezing our Titicacas off

Today is our second 4-year wedding anniversary (since we had 2 'weddings') and for celebrating, we went to an island, had a candle-lit dinner, and dressed up and went out dancing. So here it is in more detail:

Waking up this morning at Hotel Nesther in Puno, I felt even worse. We checked out of our hotel and left most of our baggage there, then Nige had some breakfast while I tried to nibble on a few tiny pieces of bread. We considered cancelling our 2 day trip on Lake Titicaca, as my symptoms of acute mountain sickness seemed pretty bad, but we decided to go anyway. A minibus picked us up and took us down to the port, where we loaded on to a boat with about 28 others. There were about 10 other similar boats, all equally packed with tourists. We knew it would be like this, and we always hate these group package trips, but this was the easiest and most economical way to do what we wanted. It was a beatiful, crystal clear, sunny day.

Lake Titicaca, at about 3820 metres, is the world's highest navigable lake. About half of it is in Bolivia. It covers about 8300sqkm, with a maximum depth of 280m, making us feel like we were in an ocean. The name origins are uncertain, but most claim it is translated as 'Rock of the Puma' because it's supposed to be shaped like a puma (we can't see it) or 'Crag of Lead' because of its grey colour, although most of what we saw was beatifully clear blue water. Many myths and legends abound about the lake, most notably that there is an ancient city full of treasure and gold in the depths of its waters. Jacques Cousteau visited at one point to try to discover if this was true or not (he didn't find anything). Being winter and dry, the surrounding mountains and hills are yellow and brown. If it was any smaller, it could seriously be any of the ghetto lakes my brother-in-law Jeff water skis at in California or Arizona.

After about 30 minutes of slowly cruising through reed-filled waters, we arrived at one of the Islas Flotantes, islands made out of reeds that literally just float on the lake. They are made with the buoyant totora reeds from the shallows of the lake. Many layers of the reeds are piled on top of each other and are constantly replenished on the top as they rot away on the bottom. In addition to the islands themselves, the people also make their homes and boats out of the reeds. The native Uros people inhabit these islands, and have done so for many centuries. They make their living from fishing and, of course, tourism. Luckily, our boat of 30 tourists was the only one to arrive at this particular island. Everyone was supposed to take a seat (on small 'benches' made out of the reeds) and the guide Alfonso explained about the lives of the Uros people. But Nigel and I only paid half attention as we wandered around and spoke to one of the little boys (about 3 years old, and only spoke Aymara, not Spanish, from what we could tell). He immediately came up to Nigel and gave him a big huge hug. Of course Nigel tried to hide the fact that he was recoiling from the child's green snotty nose and filthy hands and face. The boy took a keen interest in Nigel's gloves (it was freezing but sunny), pulled them off of him, but them on himself, then clapped his hands at the whole adventure. It was very cute.

It was all a bit too cheesy as the island was clearly set up only for tourists, even though about 10 families live on this particular island. It was bizarre walking around on the reeds, which feel bouncy like foam. We were offered to have a ride on one of their traditional reed boats, and although there was a small fee, we said what the hell. It is made from tightly woven dried reeds, and it's amazing how it is all held together by itself. It is powered by the rowing abilities of one many with one oar, and as a result is extremely slow. He let us stop at the school on one of the bigger floating islands, where we were welcomed into one of the 2 classrooms. The children were all dressed in uniforms: skirts, sweaters, hats and braided hair for the girls, and pants, shirts, vests and hats for the boys. Granted not all of them had shoes on, and most were pretty dirty, but they were cute nonetheless. One boy even had a Harry Potter backpack, and one girl had a Barbie backpack. All of the others had woven bags. The kids treated us to songs in about 6 different languages: Spanish, Quechua & Aymara (both native languages), English (a very funny version of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'), French and Japanese. It was very entertaining. While they were singing, I noticed on one of the walls several letters and photos hanging up. They were pen-pal letters from kids, I think mostly in America.

We were then slowly paddled to another one of the Islas Flotantes, but we didn't really pay too much attention here as it was mainly just stands of tourist stalls. It was then a 3 hour boat ride further out into the lake to Isla Amantaní. It wasn't the most pleasant boat ride, feeling the way I did, but at least the water was calm for the first 2.5 hours. This is a fairly large island but only inhabited by about 4000 people, all scattered among the 8 or so different communities. The community we arrived at has about 70 family homes, with probably at least 8 people living in each home. It is small, and each home (made of mud bricks, reeds, and metal roofs) has several farm plots. The 'neighbourhood' is terraced and the homes gradually go up the side of the mountain. There are no roads or vehicles on the island.

We got off the boat and were met by a group of local women, all dressed up in their traditional gear: a brightly coloured, very poofy skirt, a white top with intricate flourescent embroidery, and a black scarf/veil thing also with bright flourescent embroidery. How they couldn't be freezing with their bare legs, I'll never know. The 30 of us on the boat were then distributed among these locals for our overnight homestay. Luckily, Nigel and I went to a family by ourselves. We were introduced to one of the girls of the family, maybe about 17 years old, but we really have no idea. She led us up a steep hill to their home, which was luckily one of the first homes on the hill and closest to the port. I don't think I could have walked much further (sounds pathetic, I know, but anyone who has suffered from altitude illness will empathize with me!).

We were introduced to the family. Reyna (not sure on spelling) and her husband are the heads of the house. They live with their 4 children (ages roughly 8, 5, 2, & 1 month old) and Reyna's 3 sisters (ages roughly 17, 14 and 12) and brother (aged about 15). Their home consits of 3 very small 'buildings' which are really just rooms. One is for Reyna, her husband and the 4 kids, one is for Reyna's 4 siblings, and the third is for the tourists. They are made in the traditional style and have packed dirt for floors. They all face a small little stone courtard and are blocked off from the rest of the property by a low stone wall. They have an outhouse, a few plots of farmland, one sheep, and one donkey.

I sat and chatted to Reyna while she knitted something out of alpaca wool and nursed her teeny tiny baby. Luckily she speaks fluent Spanish, as most of the islanders speak only Quechua. Nigel hung out with the 8 year old Jesús (the only one of the children´s names we understood), his 15 year old cousin, and their 2 month old puppy while the boys made a kite out of a plastic bag and sticks (which actually turned out to fly perfectly). We watched the darling little 5 year old girl finish her chore of washing laundry, completing the task while smiling, laughing, skipping and singing the whole time. It was so interesting speaking to Reyna about her life and the life of the islanders. I was more thankful for my Spanish skills (or lack thereof!) at this time than at any other time in my life, because without them I would not have been able to speak to her at all. She grew up in this house, as well as her parents and grandparents, maybe even further back than that. One month ago she had her 4th child right there on the dirt floor of her home, just like the other 3. No doctor came to visit, but she said there is a medicó available at times. At times she goes to Puno to buy fruit and sometimes knitting wool and she says she enjoys this very much, but does enjoy living on the island.

A while later we were served lunch: a delicous vegetable soup with quinua in it, a Peruvian grain, as well as tarot and potatoes and fresh mint tea (sadly, I couldn't stomach more than a few mouthfulls, but I explained why so hopefully I didn't offend them). Nige was a trooper and ate as much of mine as he could.

Later in the afternoon we were supposed to meet up with our guide to climb the hills in the centre of the island to see the ruins on top and watch the sunset. By this time it was quite windy and very very cold. There was no way we were making it up that huge mountain, so we stayed at the home and actually had a siesta. Waking up around 6:00, we felt much better but were frozen to the bone and just stayed under the 7 wool blankets on the bed. Jesús (the 8 year old) and the 5 year old girl came in with the 2 year old and skipped and jumped around while chatting to us. Jesús brought in some of his schoolbooks and practiced his Spanish alphabet with us. The kids speak Spanish at school and Quechua at home.

Around 7:00 we were served a delicious dinner by candlelight (there being no electricity) of potato soup, rice and a potato/vegetable mix, with fresh mint tea afterwards. Being too cold to do anything, we hopped back into bed with every item of clothing we had, including jackets. Around an hour later, I was yanked out of bed from a deep sleep, stood on the ground and 2 of the older girls started putting all of these clothes on me. It turns out that both Nigel and I were to dress up in traditional clothing to attend the evening´s fiesta. Nigel donned a poncho and woolen hat, and I put on about 3 layers of thick, heavy skirts, an embroidered shirt, an extremely tightly wound waist belt of colourful stripings, cinched into place to rob me of my last breaths, and a black veil/scarf. All of this we put on top of the 5 layers of clothing we already had on, and all of it had a distinct odour which we´ll just call ´Peruvian.´ For once, I felt warm. We followed the girls out into the full moon light and trudged halfway up the mountain to the ´civic centre´ for the fiesta. Inside there was a live Peruvian band, beers and sodas, and lots of dancing. Everyone was dressed up, Peruvians and tourists alike. Cheesy as it was, it was actually a lot of fun, and everyone was a good sport about dancing. The Peruvian girls were crazy though, and would spin us around and whip us around corners so quickly. We asked the older (17) girl if she wanted a drink, and she shyly but enthusiastically asked for a beer! When most of everyone had cleared out, we finally left for the night, again following the girls down the hill by the light of the moon. We fell into bed around 10:30, the latest night we´ve had in probably 2 weeks.

So, we did have an island trip, a candlelit dinner, dress up and dancing for our anniversary, just in the traditional way.

Strikes causing strife

After breakfast at our hotel this morning we were picked up by a girl from the office where we bought our bus tickets to Puno, and taken to the bus station with her in a taxi. Our bus was meant to leave at 8:30, but by 8:45 the girl assured us that it was just waiting for another bus to depart so it could park in the designated bay. Just before 9:00, she explained that our bus had been cancelled because the road from Juliaca to Puno had been closed and not buses or cars were allowed through (you have to go through Juliaca to get to Puno). Apparently there was some sort of labour strike going on, and protesters had blocked the road and were throwing rocks at all passing buses (maybe related to the protests in Lima, we´re not sure). We had 2 options as she explained it: we could take the smaller bus leaving around 9:30 which would take an alternative route once it got to Juliaca to reach Puno, or we could take our same bus later that evening, as the road would open at night. The girl explained that it is fairly common for these sorts of strikes to occur, to the point that they are now much more of a nuisance than anything and no one pays any attention. So we were quite happy to take the smaller bus, but we wanted the difference in price refunded to us (we had booked ´business class´ tickets on a double decker bus with a toilet, TVs, and reclining seats--not that this is what we preferred, but it seemed fairly cheap at the time). Well, I could go on and on about what happened next, the conversations I had in Spanish with both the girl and the bus company, and the conversations Nigel had in English with the girl from the tourist company, but to make a long story short, after 30 minute of arguing, Nigel and I were beyond pissed off (they wouldn´t refund any money, and we had paid 60 soles for our tickets when the cheaper buses that were actually going only cost 20 soles for both of us). We told the girl that we just wanted a full refund for our tickets as we were getting nowher. She said fine, but they'd take out the cost of the taxi. So we took a taxi back to the tourist office where we had booked our tickets and after some convoluted way of calculating things, she decided we were due 50 soles back. Well, 60 soles minus the 3 soles from the taxi that morning, minus thte 3 soles for the bus terminal departure tax coupon equals 54 soles. But she explained that not only did we have to pay for the taxi that morning (we already paid for the taxi back to the office) but we had to pay for the taxis for the person to go to the bus station and back to pick up our tickets. No way were we paying for this, as this is part of their service and chances are more than likely that they picked up more than just our tickets on the 6 sole taxi ride. We argued back and forth, then finally just agreed to take 51 soles (we made her pay her share of the taxi ride back to town because she would have had to pay 3 soles herself to get back). We could have called her boss to argue with him too, but she wouldn´t let us use the office phone and wouldn´t pay for the call. It was so frustrating because she kept saying it wasn´t her company´s fault (which we had agreed on from the very start, we were never blaming them) but yet she said that we had to cover the costs incurred by them as a result of all of this, even though it wasn´t our fault either. Very unfair. So we gave her 100 soles, and she said she only had 40 soles change. We demanded she go get change and we wanted our 49 change. While she went out, we told any tourists who paused to read their signs not to use this company because they totally suck, so we felt a bit better after that. So whatever you do, don´t use Wasi tours in Arequipa.

Our 51 soles in hand, we went back to the bus station, booked tickets on a 12:00 bus to Puno for 13 soles each and waited until it left nearly an hour late. The bus ride was uneventful until we reached Juliaca. Here they yelled through the bus to close the curtains, so we all tightly shut the curtains as we passed through town. Some passengers had to get off here, so the bus pulled off to the side of the road on some random street (as opposed to the bus stop) and we were out of there very quickly. I guess if any strikers saw that there were passengers on the bus they would get violent and start chucking rocks and stuff. There were rocks strewn all over the roads. Scary but adventurous too.

It was less than an hour from Juliaca to Puno, where we walked around the streets looking for an affordable hotel with availability (most were too expensive or completely booked, being the high season here) and found one on our 4th attempt. Puno is not the most exciting town. It sits at 3830m, right on the banks of Lake Titicaca. We booked a 2-day trip to Lake Titicaca for the next morning and then went out for some soup for dinner. We got back to the hotel in time to get a warmish shower before the hot water shut off at 9:00, and went to bed where Nige stayed up late into the night reading a book he was stuck into, and Kel went to sleep feeling sick and sorry for herself.

Flight of the Condor

Up at 6 a.m. for a traveller´s breakfast and into the minivan by 6.30. We drove from Chivay along a dirt road following the Colca Canyon. It was a cold, bumpy and dusty ride. We were both feeling the altitude with a bit of a headache and a bit of dizziness, but Kel was feeling f***ing awful. Our first stop was at a small village where there is a church. I didn´t listen to the guide mumble his spiel about the church as I was too busy admiring a beautiful Black Eagle that was on a perch there. And Kel didn´t listen either because she was busy petting a cute border collie type dog. The bird is a pet and is friendly so you could give it a little touch. There were also more friendly (but dusty) dogs which Kel and I seem to take more interest in at most stops. And of course at any tourist stop are the stalls of people selling their wares.

Our next stop was along the side of the road that looks down into the canyon itself. At 3191m, the Cañon del Colca is either the world´s deepest or second deepest canyon, depending on who you ask (the other is nearby Cañon del Cotahuasi). Lining the walls of the canyon are Incan and pre-Incan terraces used for farming. The majority of them are still used today, where locals grow mainly potatoes, garlic, onions, beans, maize, and quinua, a Peruvian grain. Each separate farm plot is set off from its neighbouring plot by low walls made of stacked stones. The Incans used this stone because it reflects the heat of the sun onto the crops throughout the day. The canyon is massive, and the amount of terracing covering the mountain sides is amazing, going on for kilometers up the canyon and reaching all the way from the bottom to about 3/4 of the way to the top. It is quite amazing to see these terraces making their way up really steep valley walls. The scale of the canyon is amazing, when looking down and seeing people in their fields appear as little specks it gives it some proportion. A few more stops along the way to look at the canyon and see some ancient graves perched on a vertical cliff overlooking the valley and we arrived at Cruz del Condor. Our crap guide mumbled something about the condors and then proceeded to talk everyone out of doing the walk along the top of the canyon to the lookout saying it is very cold and windy. When booking the trip we were told we would do at least an hour of hiking each day. We all got out the van and did the 20 min walk to the lookout. The canyon here is extremely steep and deep. The views along the canyon and of the surrounding mountains are incredible. Kel and I found a perch at a lookout and could see a condor sitting on a rock near one of the other lookouts. We could see that he bird was about half the height of a person. When it spread its wings and flew off it was huge. They have a wingspan of up to 10 feet. We had to wait a little while until more birds appeared but in the end there were up to 10 birds flying around the area. Watching them is amazing; they are just so huge but incredibly graceful, rarely having to beat their wings in the rising thermals. At one stage we had a hummingbird humming around in front of us which made it even more surreal. We were watching the world´s largest bird that doesn´t beat its wings and then seeing one of the world´s smallest birds that beats its wings the fastest. We sat and watched the condors for about an hour and a half. The scenery was spectacular and so was the experience of seeing the condors.

Back in the bus we made our way back to Chivay with the standard photo stops that happened to be next to a few stalls of souveniers. Lunch in Chivay was a few cheap sandwiches (Kel had avocado and tomato sandwiches, but picked out all of the avocado and tomatoes as she couldn´t stomach them) in the plaza but unfortunately the kids weren't around to entertain us (but fortunately they were-hopefully-at school). At about 1pm we all piled in the van to make the 6 hour trip back to Arequipa. The trip was pretty quiet and most people had a bit of a nap. Same dusty, bumpy road.

It was nice to get back to the Regis hotel and their hot showers. We bought some bus tickets from a travel agency, tried to exchange some books but didn't want to get ripped off and found a reasonably cheap mexican restaurant for dinner. We had some chicken tacos which were great and got us excited about the food in Mexico. Still feeling the altitude we made our way back to the hotel and into bed.

Into Canyon Country

It was a fairly early start this morning for a 2-day trip into the Cañon del Colca near Arequipa. Our bus was supposed to pick us up between 8:00 and 8:30, but finally showed up at 9:00. We weren´t off to a great start at this point, especially because our dickhead of a guide, Gonzalo, had a fit that we didn´t want to put our bag up on the roof of the van and he thought it would be in everyone´s way sitting at Nigel´s feet. And since we were the last people to be picked up, we had to sit apart, with Nige just behind the passenger´s seat next to a nice Scottish couple on their honeymoon and Kel in the very back with a Belgian couple (I preferred the back only because I could keep my window slightly open without bothering anyone, the cold fresh air a must given my current state). We then drove about 10 minutes out of town where it was necessary to stop for snacks and drinks after such a long start to the day´s drive. We bought a few packets of Coca Candy to suck on for the trip. Peru cultivates nearly 47,000 hectares of coca per year, enough to make 150,000 kilos of cocaine, but the majority of it is used for chewing, tea-making, and I guess candy. It is supposed to help with the effects of altitude sickness (nausea, headaches, vomiting, fatigue) which I was seriously starting to experience and Nige as well (Nazca, our last place, is about 600m above sea level, and Arequipa is at 2325m, a huge leap for one day).

We passed the Chachani volcano and drove through the Reserva Nacional Salinas y Aguada Blanca which covers 367,000 hectares at an average of 3850m. It is a reserve for the very shy, cute, and endangered Vicuñas, a wild cousin to Alpacas and Llamas. We stopped in a few places to see these guys roaming around the plains. From here the road continued through dry (since it´s winter, but it´s green in the summer) altiplano and up over the highest peak at 4880m where we stopped for gorgeous views of the snow-capped Ampato (6388m, where Juanita the Ice Princess was discovered) and surrounding mountains. The road was dusty and bouncy. Here there were several Peruvian women selling their alpaca wool hats, gloves, scarves and sweaters, as well as other knitted things and cheesy souveniers. There are also hundreds of small rock piles, which were created by Incas as a prayer to the gods. They would first put a coca leaf down, then balance 3-5 or 6 rocks on top of it and say a prayer. The landscape here is nearly all rock and very plain, so these little rock towers make it a bit more interesting.

By 1:00 or so we reached the small town of Chivay (3700m--getting sicker and head threatening to explode), population a whopping 4000, the main town in the Cañon del Colca. We were taken to the guide´s choice for lunch, but of course it was way more than we wanted to spend, so we walked a few blocks (really probably 30m) to the town plaza and found something cheaper. We were then picked up and taken to our hotel for the night (just off the plaza) where we dropped our gear and headed back to the plaza to walk around. We enjoyed seeing all of the school kids coming home for the afternoon (all in uniforms with hats), the ladies selling fruits and veggies at a small market, and locals just milling around. We had some mate de coca (tea made with coca leaves) in the hopes of alleviating part of our headaches then went back to our hotel to tell our crap guide that we wouldn´t be joining everyone for a trip out to the hot springs. We knew they would be full of the hundreds of other tourists, and that we´d pay the 10 soles entrance fee, sit in the hot springs for about 10 minutes, then want to get out and have to wait at least an hour for everyone else.

Instead, we got a few beers and parked ourselves on a bench in the plaza to just watch the town go by. A boy we had seen earlier came up to chat to us. He´s a cute kid of about 12 who drags his baby brown llama around town and charges tourists to take a photo of him with his pet. Eventually we had ourselves a small group of about 5 kids to chat with. My Spanish was coming in good and strong speaking to such youngsters, and Nigel was doing pretty well himself. At one stage we decided to buy them each a bag of popcorn (about 20 cents each for us) and we gave one boy, Loco Jimmy, a 5 sole coin to go get it. He came back and explained that the popcorn lady felt our coin was a fake. We only had large bills besides this coin, and we were not going to give Jimmy one, as trustworthy as he seemed, nor were we going to get up from our cozy spot to buy the popcorn ourselves. So Loco Jimmy an the llama boy (we couldn´t really understand his name) took an inventory of the things we bought in the shop where we obtained the said fake coin and went ran off to the shop to explain the situation to the lady and to get a different coin. But the lady said it was a real coin and wouldn´t change it. So, being bright kids, Jimmy came back to us and asked us if we wanted ´un agua pequeño or un agua grande´ since his idea was to go to a different shop, buy something with the ´fake´ coin, then have change to buy the popcorn. And he knew that water would be one thing we´d definitely buy. So off he went, got us a small bottle of water, and 5 bags of freshly popped corn for all of them. They were all so happy and cute. And llama boy even shared his with his pet.

Frozen by this time, as it was just about dark, we walked back to our hotel (accompanied by Jimmy part of the way), put on our thermals and every other bit of warm clothing we have, then found a pizza place for dinner, chosen because of the roaring fire inside. We drank some mate de coca and played some cards for a while, then had a dinner of soup and alpaca steak for Nige, a tiny pizza for Kel. The alpaca meat was pretty good, and very lean.

We headed back to our hotel hoping for a hot shower (we were promised caliente, caliente agua) but only managed to get ice water, so we just went to bed, I was feeling very ill and sorry for myself.

The Ice Maiden

We arrived in Arequipa around 7:30 this morning. It is a large city of about 1 million people, on the valley floor under a huge active volcano, El Misti, and the other snow-capped mountains of Chachani and Pichu Pichu. El Misti is a perfectly typical volcano shape and looks almost fake as it looms over the city. We found a hostel, dropped our bags, had an awesomely hot and powerful shower (a real treasure here) and then headed out to walk around. The streets of Arequipa are narrow, cobble-stoned alleys (most one-way, one car only), rising in small hills up from the centre Plaza de Armas. The buildings are colonial style, making it a cute town to walk around. We headed down to the Plaza where we were just in time to watch a parade. It seemed to be a military parade of some sort, with all varieties of the military represented (infantry in fatigues, navy boys in blue, special forces in black etc) all decked out in their gear with full packs and weapons, marching in formation. Maybe it was some sort of veteran´s day? But most of the guys looked fairly young, so we´re not sure. But this was all accompanied by a full military band, and what seemed like half of the town´s people, so it was fun, and great luck that we just happened upon it. We then walked around the plaza, went inside La Catedral (where we stayed for the first 15 minutes of Sunday morning mass, but since it was in Spanish, we convinced ourselves to say our own prayers and leave), then had REAL coffee on the balcony of a cafe overlooking the plaza. Since it was Sunday morning, there were tons of families out enjoying the morning sunshine post-parade, shopping, going to mass, eating and hanging out.

After coffee, we went to the Museo Santuarios Andinos. Juanita the Ice Princess is displayed here. She is a 12-13 year old Inca girl found frozen in the glaciers of the Ampato Volcano (6380m) in 1995. She had been frozen in the glacier for about 550 years. It is thought that she was sacrificed to the mountain gods at Apu Ampato by Inca priests. They say she was ´put to sleep´ before a massive blow to her right eyebrow (cause of death). We got most of the information in the entrance to the museum, so we chose not to pay the rip-off entrance fee to see Juanita herself (there were plenty of photos in the information centre), especially since we´ve seen heaps of mummies in Egypt that look pretty much the same.

I can´t really remember what else we did for the rest of the day, so I guess that´s about it for Arequipa. Oh yeah, we did have Turkish food for dinner.

The Nazca Lines

We slept in this morning, getting up with a few aches from the taco bed at our hotel. Had another quick shocking shower, then went to get some breakfast. We hopped on a local bus heading north and got off at La Mirador, a tower built in the middle of the desert from where we were able to view 3 of the many Nazca Lines. These are forms strewn about the desert covering 500 sq km and remains one of the world´s greatest archaeological mysteries. There are over 800 straight lines, 300 geometric figures (geoglyphs) and about 70 animal and plant formations (biomorphs). The Lines were made by removing the dark, sun-dried stones from the surface of the desert and piling them up on either side of the Lines, exposing the lighter soil below. How they´re still there we´ll never know, especially since the wind was blowing up a storm while we were out there. They are estimated at about 2000 years old, but no one really knows. Theories abound of course. One is that they were an astronomical calendar, one is that they were to worship gods, and of course the whole alien theory is popular.

We were able to see the lines pretty clearly from the tower, and were surprised at how small they are, although some of the others are larger. The best way to see them is by plane of course, but being the poor backpackers that we are, we had to settle for the constricted view from the tower. They were not very spectacular, but maybe they are from the air.

To get back to town, we flagged down a passing minivan and piled in with about 10 Peruvians. We weren´t sure if we´d actually make it back to town, given the state of the van, but it was nice to be with the locals and they were full of smiles for us. The van was passed up by every other form of vehicle along the way, including semis.

Back in town, we used the internet, played cards and had some beers, went back to Pollo Rico for dinner (same as last night) then went to the bus office to freeze while we waited for our 9:30 pm bus south to Arequipa. It finally showed up an hour late and by 10:45 we were off.

Pooped on by Boobies

We were up early this morning, had a quick coffee at one of the only nearby cafes open, bought some plain bread from a lady on the street for breakfast then caught our minibus south to Paracas for a tour of Las Islas Ballestas. These are islands just off the coast, often referred to as ´The poor man´s Galapagos.´ We were herded into a speed boat with about 25 others, then quickly jetted out to sea, stopping first at the Candelabra, a giant figure etched into the hillside of a large uninhabited island. It is about 170 metres high and over 50 metres wide. No one knows who made it or why it is there, but there are many theories: they´re linked to the Nazca Lines, it was used for navigational purposes, and of course aliens did it.

We probably smelled the Islas Ballestas before we got too close, as the thousands of resident birds make a lot of guano, cultivated and sold (for a tidy profit) as a natural fertilizer. In places on the guano is up to 50 metres deep! Thats some deep shit. For about an hour we cruised around the rocky island, viewing the thousands of birds (Peruvian booby, Peruvian pelicans, Humboldt penguins, Guanay cormorants, and Inca terns) as well as sea lions, and lots of sea life clinging to the rocks. We even saw some fluffy baby birds among them. The island is literally just covered in birds (and their poop).

Arriving back on the mainland, we took the bus back to Pisco, checked out of our hotel, used the internet for a bit and then went to the bus stop to catch our 1:30 bus south to Nazca. Of course we weren´t surprised when the 1:30 bus showed up just before 3:00, since we were on this same bus from Lima yesterday.

It was a slow trip to Nazca. It was supposed to be 3.5 hours but we arrived in Nazca after 7:00. We found a cheap hotel, bought more bus tickets for the next day, then found a fantastic place for dinner. It is basically just like an Aussie chicken shop, but bigger. All they have are rotisserie chickens, served with chips and salads (the menu did include other choices, but we didn´t actually see any of it). The queue for takeaway was out the door and down the street, and nearly every table inside was packed with locals, out for a Friday night meal. We ordered half of a chicken, which came with chips and salad. It was cheap, delicious, and enough for at least 4 people. It´s so fantastic when we are lucky to find little local restaurants like this one. One of the best things about travelling I think. Besides one other couple, we were the only foreigners in there.

Being WAY past our bedtime by this point (about 9:00 now!) we headed back to our hotel, had a hot shower while trying to avoid the small tingles of electrocutions from the water, and went to bed.

Shocking showers!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!!

We ate the traveller´s breakfast this morning offered by our hostel. It is bread, butter, jam, egg, juice, and coffee. This is pretty much the standard the world over with a few variations.

Our 9:15 bus boarded on time but didn´t leave the station until 10:15. We sat at the entrance of the station collecting more travellers going our direction. The bus was reasonably clean (well, sort of) and comfortable and the trip uneventful except for a few stops. We have been warned of thievery on the buses here and a guy from Belgium had a camera stolen form his bag which was in the overhead compartment. We always put our bags under our feet which has allowed us to prevent theft even if it is uncomfortable at times. Sometimes I wish some of it would dissappear to lighten our overflowing daypack full of crap. And this daypack is now extra dodgy because the main compartment zipper is broken, so it hangs half open, only connected by a cheap carabiner.

In Pisco we walked throught the Plaza de Armas to our hotel (this is becoming a theme here in Peru). The room was nice, maybe a bit dusty but the highlight was the huge poster of Christina Aguilera above the bed. I did sneak a glimpse in another room and they had Pamela Anderson above that bed, but that room was more expensive. The shower was also an adventure. To heat the water the shower head has electrical wires connected to it. The water is heated (not very well) by an element within the shower head. Because I am tall and closer to the water coming out of the head, I did get few little shocks.

We went and booked a boat trip to the Islas Ballestas for the morning and had a great dinner of Chicken Lomo Soltado (chicken pieces, tomatoes, french fries, onion and rice) and Stuffed Avocado then we went to bed again exhausted from doing nothing.

A tearful arrival in Peru

Up before the sun this morning, we caught an early taxi to the airport, checked ourselves in, went through immigration and headed for our gate. Although we got to the airport over an hour before our flight, it took nearly that long to get through the slow lines, so we didn´t have to wait long before boarding. The flight from Santiago to Lima is just under 4 hours, and was uneventful. But we do enjoy LAN Chile, they´re a great airline.

We arrived in Lima around 11:30 in the morning. We quickly and easily got through immigration and customs, and caught a Urbanito bus from the airport into the city. It took much longer than it should have because there was a huge protest march going on in Central Lima near the Centro Civico (Civic Centre), maybe something about labour relations. We´re not too sure, but there were hundreds of people. We finally got to our hotel, the Hotel Espana, a huge old mansion converted into a hostel. It´s a really cool building with tons of different levels, and countless rooms. Throughout the hostel are statues, paintings, mummified skulls and all sorts of wierd parephenalia. Our room was graced with not one but 4 paintings of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Cristo. So happy to be in a Catholic country!

We wandered around the Plaza de Armas just nearby and passed the San Francisco monastery, which has underground catacombs with 70,000 people buried there! We were going to go in, but didn´t want to hassle with the large numbers of school groups lining up. The buildings around the Plaza are very old and beautiful. Something was going on in the centre of the plaza, as they were setting up scaffolding and there were many armed police officers in riot gear on every corner. We walked through a pedestrian mall towards a bus station to buy some tickets. On the way, we passed what we think were the remnants of a small bomb that had been let off on a hand cart full of smoldering rags and splintered wood. Our suspicions may have been correct as we saw the explosives unit from the police force pass by as we walked away. The station we arrived at was the wrong station so we took a taxi to the right one. It was just near where the marches were earlier, and the crowds had cleared out. We bought tickets to head south tomorrow, then took a taxi back to the hotel where we relaxed a bit, used the internet, and called Nigel´s dad for his birthday.

For dinner we headed back to the Plaza and down the pedestrian mall. Looking for something cheap, we wound up at a local burger place. As we stood waiting for our meal, I began to sneeze. Then Nigel began to sneeze. We looked around and soon everyone was sneezing. Within minutes we were coughing, our throats were burning, and my eyes were stinging and watering. We rushed outside but it was even worse. People were still about, and there was a group forming with lit candles. Not sure what to do, we went back into the restaurant. Our food was shortly ready, we asked for it to go and got out of there. It turns out (we think) that the police had let off some tear gas, maybe to prevent riots or disperse the crowds nearby. We quickly headed back to our hotel, unscathed but a tiny bit alarmed. We ate our meal (which was darn good) and went to bed around 7:30, the social butterflies that we are.

Lax

Today was a very lazy day. We bought ourselves some oats and yoghurt for breakfast which was great and then we set out to change our flight times. We found Lan Chile and were extremely happy at their service and efficiency. Our task for the day done we returned to the hostel had lunch and watched TV. After watching the 5th Element, I got to watch some Pro Lacrosse on ESPN, it was Boston vs New Jersey. It made me very edgy, especially when Sturt is undefeated back home. Go Devils!! I look forward to the box games when we get back.

We booked an early flight in the morning so again it was early to bed.

Lines and buses

We got up early this morning (Kel a bit worse for wear), packed up our gear, ate our leftovers for breakfast, then stood out on the side of the road for about 45 minutes, freezing, while we waited to flag down a bus heading for Chillan. We finally got the 8.30 bus around quarter past 9, and spent the entire trip to Chillan defrosting our frozen fingers and toes.

Back in Chillan, we walked through town, stopping to buy some groceries for lunch, then went to a different bus station to get a ride back to Santiago. I waited in line for one company, only to find out their next bus did not leave until 1.15 (it was only 11.30 by this time). So I waited in line for another company, but their next bus was sold out. Back in the first line, I finally got tickets and we hung out at the bus station for a few hours, sharing some popcorn with a cute stray dog.

The bus back to Santiago was uneventful, and we again took the metro back to the same hostel. We dropped our gear, got some cheap empenadas for dinner, and watched a bit of TV before heading to bed.

Skating on the Andes

We were up early this morning, excited for a full day of skiing in the Andes. We heated up our leftover pasta for breakfast, grabbed our snowboards and headed out to the road to wait for the bus. When we arrived at the bottom of the lifts, we went to see about some snowboarding lessons (we are both semi-decent skiiers, but have never boarded). Nige was all geared up in his bright orange pants and red & white jacket (one of the shop owners, Alejandro went to his house to get it for him to hire! He is actually the coach of the Spanish Olympic Ski Team). And Kel looked stunning in her 80s metallic blue jacket, double-breasted with gold buttons. Sweet. Of course there were no lessons available in English for a few hours, plus they were way too expensive for us. So we just decided to have a go at snowboarding without lessons. Well, I wouldn´t exactly recommend this to anyone. After about 45 minutes, 3 trips down a nearly flat hill, and countless falls, we decided that we are not able to snowboard without lessons. So, we packed it in and hitched a ride down the hill to town, where we traded in our snowboards for skis.

Alejandro and his Italian wife gave us a lift back up on the mountain, we had a quick trip down an easy hill just to make sure we were comfortable (yep, this is definitely more to our liking since we know how to do it!), we headed straight up the mountain for a few fun runs down. All of our energy used up by this time (sadly, most of it used up not by actually skiing but by going in and out of town) we were ready for lunch, which we had halfway up the mountain. We decided that since it was such a gorgeous, sunny day, we should definitely go all the way to the top of the lifts for some great views. And, according to the map, there are plenty of easy routes down. So we took a really long lift up to the top (one of the best parts) and were not disappointed by the views. The only problem was we needed to gt down. We headed down what we thought was an intermediate run, which to us became a black run because of how icy it was. We attempted to take the lift back down to an easier section bu they didn´t let us. So we had to make our way down the icy slopes on our own. Slowly we made our way down, Kel fell a few times and Nige fell once not from the degree of speed but just standing there watching Kel.

Eventually we made it mid-way down the mountain. Kel was a bit sore and bruised from the black runs and we enjoyed the easier although still icy easy runs to the bottom.

We hitched another ride back to our hostel with a local guy from Chillan. He spoke some english and we had a brief conversation about his veggie and eucalyptus farm. We stripped off our ski clothes and lugged everything back to the rental store. W had decided not to keep skiing because the ice didn´t make it much fun. It was Mac and Cheese for dinner which was good and again we made plenty for breakfast. Another early night in the Andes.

Ski Town

The 8.00 bus to Valle Las Trances was quick and went through beautiful foggy valleys rising up into the mountains. We were dropped off by the side of the road and had to walk about 200 metres down a dirt road to our hostel. The Los Nirres hostel is like a big ski chalet for backpackers. They have a huge dining area, communal kitchen and lounge area with fireplace and wood fires on every floor. In broken spanish we acquired a room and arranged for a delicious hot breakfast. We walked up and down the main road checking ski rental prices and bought some groceries for lunch.

We made tuna sandwiches for lunch, which we enjoyed with a few cold Crystal beers, then had a nap (for lack of anything better to do). We then walked back to the small shop, enjoying the crisp, fresh winter air, and bought some groceries for dinner. We had a few beers by the fire in a pub, then went and hired our snowboarding gear. The people who own the shop were so nice, and they gave us a lift back to the hostel. We made ourselves a delicious pasta dinner, thrilled to be doing our own cooking for the first time in 7 months. And we made sure we had plenty of leftovers for breakfast. After a few beers, we became suddenly exhausted and went to bed in our little cabin room.

Chillin, in Chillan, in Chile

After finding each other in the hostel this morning we decided to have some breakfast and then head to Chillan, a town about 6 hours south of Santiago. We decided to go there as the word was the skiing would be cheaper. Santiago's metro system is great, like the London underground it is clean and efficient and it dropped us right at the bus station and we were happy to find a bus leaving 20 minutes later. The buses in Chile are excellent, clean, comfortable, fast and with a toilet. We really had only one stop where Kel and I managed to almost get left behind while trying to buy a hot dog. The views frm the bus were great, we followed the snow covered Andes south to Chillan.

We got to Chillan around 5.30 and walked through town looking for a ski information centre that didn't exist. The tourist information office was helpful though, but we would have been screwed if we didn't speak any spanish. We are surprised at how little english is spoken in Chile. We had hamburgers for dinner and went to bed ready for an early start in the morning. Our hostel was called the Canadian Hostel, which was really just someone's spare room, but it was clean, friendly, had heating and the bed was comfortable.

Dos gringos en Santiago

We woke up this morning to a cold, foggy day in Santiago. What a change from Egypt! We had breakfast at the hostel, then went wandering around the city. We had our first Chilean coffee, enjoyed while standing up at a real coffee bar with hoochie waitresses like a cocktail lounge. We went to the Plaza de Armas and had a 'Hot-Dog italianos completos' for lunch. Chileans are crazy about hot dogs, and you can get one almost anywhere. And they love hamburgers too. Actually, they just love meat full stop. Walking around, we realized how relaxed & happy we were because were weren't being hassled every 30 seconds to buy something, get a taxi, eat something or go to some guy's cousin's perfume shop. We walked up the Cerro Santa Lucia, a hill in the centre of the city that would normally have great views of the city and the Andes in the distance, but it was too foggy. We then went past the Plaza de la Constitucion and the Palacio de la Moneda where the president used to live.

We returned to the hostel to warm up and relax for a bit before heading out for a few Austral beers at a great little pub. Our hostel is in university territory, so this pub was much to our liking. While sitting happily with our beers, we snacked on some freshly roasted peanuts and some Chilean nut things that we bought from a man wandering around the pub. After one day (and 2 beers), we decided we like Chile.

For dinner we went to a hole in the wall place for a Barros Luco (steak and melted cheese sandwich) and a chacarero (like a hamburger). Still jet-lagged, we headed to bed early.

The Terminal

We were up early this morning to get to the airport. After finally catching a taxi (we had ordered one from the hotel, but they neglected to tell us that the guy's car had broken down), and finally getting through to the absolutely-NO-English-knowledge driver that we wanted to go to the airport (yes, we flew around like kids pretending to be airplanes), we made our way there. Cairo airport is under heaps of construction, and it is very poorly labelled. Our driver had no clue where to go, and we finally figured out that he was to drop us off in the middle of a parking lot where we caught a bus to the terminal. On the short ride to the terminal, we had to endure the constant complaints from 2 whinging Poms about how 'absolutely stupid the Egyptian airport's system is', and how at 'every other airport in the world you are allowed to drive up to departures to drop off passengers' blah blah blah. We thought he'd give himeself a heart attack right then and there. It really wasn't a drama at all. When we checked in, the BA guy asked about our visas for Brazil, i.e. where are they? We told him we would get them on arrival in Rio de Janiero, having no idea if we could or not. But that was good enough for him as he let us on the flight.

It was a 5 hour flight to Heathrow, and we were excited for free food and movies. Since we were celebrating my Aunt Nancy's birthday, we started the day off with a few vodka & oranges with breakfast. Arriving in Heathrow around 11:30 am, we sort of got the notion that maybe we do actually need a visa before we get to Brazil. Nothing like forward thinking right? So we rushed to find a Brazil Lonely Planet in an airport bookshop (there were none, we had to settle on South America on a Shoestring) and all the information we got was that yes we both need visas. But nothing about whether or not we can get them on arrival. Knowing we had all day to waste in Heathrow, we decided to hop into the city to the Brazilian Consulate to get us some visas. We looked it up in the London A-Z book and then went through immigration. But, before we left, we decided to double check because we knew it wouldn't be cheap to take the tube into the city, pay for an immediate visa, eat lunch while waiting, etc. We went to the BA customer service counter, and after some in-depth reading of the rules, the guy concluded that nope, don't need visas before our arrival. Sweet, that saved us some money.

With nothing else to do, we wandered around the ENTIRE length of Heathrow in search of a Brazil Lonely Planet. After going to all 4 terminals (and Heathrow is so big that this required 2 free metro rides and copious amounts of walking), we finally found one. We spent the remainder of our time in the pub with a few beers, again in Aunt Nancy's honour. Our flight finally boarded around 9:00 pm and we were off to Brazil. We were stoked for free hot food, movies, and alcohol. Vodka and coke was our beverage of choice this evening, Nige mixing in a few beers in between.

It was over 14 hours to Sao Paulo, where we sat on the plane for about 45 minutes before leaving for Rio, about a 40 minute flight. We gathered our things, got off the plane and headed for immigration. When we reached the counter, the guy took his time flipping through our passports. This isn't too unusual since we have so many visas and stamps in them. He asked where our Brazilian visas were, and we said we still need to purchase them. He immediately got out of his chair, took our passports and headed to a manager's-looking room. Uh oh. A few minutes later, a woman came out and said
'I'm sorry, you're unable to get visas here. You need them before you arrive. What airline did you fly?'
'British Airways' we say. 'Both in Cairo AND Heathrow they said we didn't need visas before arriving.'
'Well, I'm sorry but you do. You cannot stay here in Brazil. Where is your next destination?'
'Lima, via Santiago.'
'Okay, we need to get you on the next flight to Santiago. Where are your luggage tags?'
And with that she took our passports, tickets, and luggage tags and told us we could go to the upstairs lounge to get a coffee or something while we waited. So we went upstairs, had a cafezhino (very strong, sweet Brazilian espresso) and a burger (luckily the cafeteria took $US), wandered around the few duty free shops, read some magazines, played cards, wandered around the same shops, had another burger and a beer, then went back downstairs for a change of scenery. About 5 hours later, the same woman was on her way out after her shift, saw us sitting there and said 'Did anyone come speak to you?' Uh, that's a big fat NEGATIVE. She managed to get us on the 2:30 flight to Santiago. Our luggage, she assured us, was checked in for us. When Nige asked about our passports, she said 'They will remain in police custody until you board the plane.' Feeling like criminals, we sat there for another few hours until finally a BA guy came with our boarding passes, luggage tags and passports. Knowing we'd be flying over the Andes, we spent at least 40 minutes discussing who we would eat first in the event of a crash.

Considering everything, the Brazilian customs lady was very apologetic and felt bad for us, and the BA guy was nice too. As a result of their 'mistake' BA is fined US$8000 and we miss out on Brazil. Oh well, so how about Chile? After more free food and alcohol, we arrived in Santiago around 8:00 pm, got our bags (amazingly they were there, as we hadn't seen them since Cairo), got some money and a shuttle to town. The first hostel we tried was full, so we ended up at the International Hostel, where we had a shower and went straight to bed. It had been 42 hours since leaving Cairo.

Red, White & Blue

Today was our last day in Cairo. We took the metro to the post office, spent most of our remaining Egyptian Pounds there, then did nothing else all day. We didn't want to have to get more money out. We ate kushari for lunch, and shwarma and kushari for dinner--very American for the 4th. We spent our last 8 pounds on a beer at Stella Bar, which we shared. Then we went to bed.

Exciting Days

Another day of hanging out in Cairo, waiting for our flight on the 5th. We didn't do too much. Ate some shwarma and went to some markets in Islamic Cairo. Not much to see there, especially since all there is to buy in Egypt is pretty much crap. Later in the evening, we met Karen and Mark for dinner, and then somehow we ended up back at the Stella Bar. It was their last night before heading home (after travelling for 8 months around the middle east) and great fun. They took off around midnight to catch their flight, and we headed to bed.

Nothing to do but drink - Not Live 8 or G8

Today we slept in, ate some breakfast, changed some flights in the BA office, spent some time on the internet, ate some lunch (although not glad to be back in Cairo, we were glad to be eating shwarma at Felfela), had a nap, spent some more time on the internet, wandered around the Hilton, ate some dinner, then met Karen and Mark at Stella Bar (yes, that same dark gross place we went to our first time in Cairo) for many beers and great conversation before heading back to bed after 1:00 a.m. There was this crazy drunk guy at the pub that loved how Kel shuffled the cards we were using (casino hotshot style). He would throw his arms up and say beautiful, again, again. At one stage he came for a closer look, cuddled up to Nige, gave him a kiss on the cheek and went through his whole celebration again. For a moment there we thought he was asking us to wife swap or have a threesome but he really didn't speak any English so we were sure it was a miscommunication. Despite all his drunken attention he did buy us a couple of beers so he can't be too bad.

Dreams of Dahab

Well it's a new month so we decided to change our surroundings. We packed up our gear (which was happily spread 'from hell to breakfast' as my dad would say), said goodbye to Dahab, and took the 12:30 bus to Cairo. It took 10 hours, and not much happened except for when an armed policeman boarded the bus and asked for our passports, and when we drove through a 1.6km long tunnel under the Suez Canal. Oooh, excitement. Back in crazy, polluted Cairo, we tried to find a different hotel, but ended up back at the Meramees. We didn't prefer to stay here (since it's right next to a mosque, most of the staff are rude, water and electricity work at random, and they still charge too much) but it was late, hot, and we knew the place is clean. We went to bed wondering why the hell we left Dahab when we still have 4 days until we fly out of Cairo.