More Vineyards

Location: Mendoza, Western Argentina

In which we go to Paraguay, gorge ourselves on steak, visit more vineyards, and cycle 50km across a desert in the middle of the day.

After Iguacu we hopped on a bus and went to Ascuncion in Paraguay. On the way we had to pass through the border town of Ciudad del Este, a known as the supermarket of South America, for the mass of electronic stores, and shops selling just about everything else.

We asked a few people, at the hotel and a travel agency, what we should see or do in PAraguay, and they all said that there really is not much to do. And these are the people in the tourist industry! For one day we took a tour around some of the villages surrounding the capital, seeing a few churches and the farms that abound throughout the countryside. The following morning we had a city tour of Ascuncion. Again, as we have seen elsewhere, they have slum areas very near to the heart of the city. In this case right next to the presidential building. Paraguay was interesting to a point, but I`m not sure I would recommend a visit there.

From Ascuncion it was only about 5 hours to Resistencia in Northern Argentina. This involved a fairly intense time at the border crossing. It took ages to process everyone off all the buses passing that way, which meant a lot of waiting around. There were a lot of unsavoury types just hanging around, offering to help with bags etc. The Paraguayan boder chap who dealt with our passports warned us to be extremely careful as there were lots of Argentinian thieves about. He may have been being unfair to assume they were all Argentinian, but it made for a nervous time, not helped by the fact that the immigration officials kept our everyone`s passports to be handed back by the driver. I`m never keen on letting mine out of my sight.

On the road into Argentina from the border we were greeted by a massive road sign proclaiming that the Malvinas are Argentinian. Every town we have been to has a street called Malvinas Argentinas and we`ve spotted one chap on a bus with bracelet saying the same thing (although he was probably too young to have been born in ´82). On checking the Americas section of BBC news one of the top stories is of a kid on a killing spree in a school in the south of the country, and the name of the school? Islas Malvinas. So it seems like this is still a sore point, unless these are all hangovers from the days of the Military dictatorship who invaded the Falklands.

The people we have met to date have probably been the most friendly and helpful we have encountered anywhere, which makes it much more pleasant travelling around, and there certainly isn`t the edge that we felt in Rio, which is a big plus!

Resistencia was a sleepy town with not much going on. We had thought about visiting the Chaco region but the transport was limited and virtually nothing was open over the weekend so we just left after a day of slobbing around trying to find somewhere open to eat.

So off to Salta. This put us not far from where we were a couple of months ago, just south of the Unyuni salt flats and a east of San Pedro de Atacama. But we`ve covered a lot of ground since then. Salta is a large city, but the centre has the feel of a smaller place, with a very pretty central square. We had been waiting for Argentina to get hold of some good steak and abottle of red wine. We were not disappointed here. It was a long overnight bus trip to get to Salta, so the first day was just taken up with strolling about and taking a well deserved siesta.

Cachi
Salta was really just a start point to get to Cachi, even though it was itself pleasant enough. Cachi is a very small town of about 7,000 people. They take their siesta time very seriously here too, which is something I could get used to. The countryside shows multi-coloured strata, with reds and pinks layered with yellows and dark grey-green. Lots of candelabra cacti everywhere, it is classic desert scenery. You almost expect to turn the corner and see Wily Coyote with a box of Acme dynamite. We had a very enjoyable walk to a nearby town, Cachi Adentro, about 20km there and back. Every step we were accompanied by a dog from the point where we started. A friendly little chap, who was always ready to wait for us when we had a water break, or over lunch. He looked like a cross between a golden labrador and a dachshund, so had legs that appeared to be ridiculously short for it.

Cachi was very relaxing, quiet and just what was need for a few days. Unfortunately the links between Cachi and Cafayate are very limited and it was slightly easier to get a 4.5hr bus back to Salta and take another 4.5hr bus the following day to Cafayate.

Cafayate is also a small town, also with a picturesque square, perfect for an early evening beer, whilst waiting until a suitably late hour to go off for dinner. Here people seem to go out at about 10pm, which can be difficult for us! Expecially if we had got up at 6am for an early bus. Restaurants only seem to start getting full just as we are asking for the bill.

The scenery here is also incredible, one of the most beautiful places we have been. The micro climate is suited to grapes and there is a flourishing, albeit very small scale, wine industry. One of the vineyards we visited was a family affair, with 3 hectares producing about 20,000 bottles a year.

We had bicycles for 2 days and the first was spent touring from vineyard to vineyard sampling as we went. Very similar to a great day we had in Sonoma Valley a couple of years ago, though the backdrop was more akin to the mountains you can find at Franchoek, South Africa. A more enjoyable day than that we spent touring a vineyard in Chile, since here we didn`t have to spend ages on public transport there and back, though cycling up a long steady incline on dirt tracks got a bit tiring. Both here and in Chile they are very pruod of the fact that they do not add sugar during fermentation, as some Europeans need to, and that they do not spray their vines with any chemicals, as most Europeans need to. The Chileans at Concho y Toro were also very proud of the fact that they have not been blighted by the root disease that affected the rest of the world, and they helped to re-stock French vineyards.

The second day we took an bus 50km back up the same road that we had arrived on by bus. Here the geography is red canyons, with veins of yellow and beige strata. Strange rock formations resulting from the passage of time. It is very beautiful indeed. It is a bit like Utah, but without the fat people or the Mormons.

The road back follows a wide river bed that had a mere trickle flowing through it now. Sadly we were going in the opposite direction to the water, which meant a fairly steady but gentle incline uphill for a lot of the way back. We finally set off about 10.30am, just when it was starting to warm up nicely. Again, cacti dotted both sides of the road, with some scrubby brush that was green near to the river banks. But none of this provided much shade. By the time we found somewhere to stop for lunch it was pretty hot, high 20s, and the fierce sun made it seem much worse. This is not a bike ride I would choose to do in Summer when the temperature reaches 40-45 Celsius. We nearly had a water shortage at the end, despite taking 2 litres each, and had to cut back a little on the drinking in the last 10km, but there was no crisis and it was a very enjoyable, though very tiring day. The next 2 litre bottle of water was empty within about 10 minutes of getting out of the shop door.

We hadn`t slept too well for a few days due to barking dogs and a Saturday night party next door, so were already quite tired. And what is the best way to get over such a tiring day in the heat and sun? Get up at 5am for a 6 hour bus journey, then rest in a park for a few hours before another 12 hours overnight to Mendoza. We currently in between the park and the bus to Mendoza, so the worst it yet to come....

Brazil

Location: Ascunsion, Paraguay

Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand... Plus the Iguacu falls.

From Santiago we flew over to Rio de Janeiro, which is a fair way away and as far removed from the cold of the Andes as you can get. Daytime temperatures are mid to high 20s, sometimes low 30s and bikini and flipflops is the regulation uniform. But I´ve stuck to my shorts and T-shirt for now. It is all so casual that it is a bit surreal to start with. Blokes in just speedos (the 70´s retro ones are very "this season") out walking the dog, often even without flipflops, which is a risk given the amount of dogsh*t on the pavements.

As for the girls on the beaches, well it´s not like Margate here.

The Favelas
Brazil, and in particular Rio and Sao Paulo, are infamous for the favelas, slum shanty-towns that circle the cities. It is possible to go on an organised tour (and probably not advisable to just pitch up and wander around). So we went. Very interesting. There are about 600 favelas around Rio, of which abut 200 have electricity and other utilities. The houses are perched on top of each other now, with less space to build around they are building up. Most of the buildings and infrastructure, such as exists, is of a reasonable standard, since many of the locals work in civil engineering or as electricians in Rio.

Apparently it is safe for tourists to visit. The local drug baron, who has almost absolute power over the "town", does not allow any crime to be perpetrated in his territory. The punishments are usually severe. He has an interest in keeping the place safe. a) so that the other locals can go about their lives not in fear, hence he has their support, b) if it is not safe then the middle class users will not come to the favela to buy their drugs. So there may be trouble that overspills in Rio, but the favelas are safe and relatively free from crime. Much like parts of Sicily I imagine.

In the last 6 months there has been an escalation of violence between two adjacent and large favelas, with a battle for territory and control of the drugs trade. This war, and it is a war, includes nighttime invasions and fights using weapons that are more deadly than those available to the police, bazookas among them. Huge amounts of profits go on maintaining market share, much like Unilever or Nestlé really, but here that involves substantial bribes and big defense budgets.

As with many places in South America the divisions between rich and poor are substantial. The 2 favelas that we saw did not seem quite as run down as the slums we saw on the outskirts of Lima, but it did make for fairly grim viewing.

Another film recommendation: City of God, about the Rio favelas and drug barons fighting turf wars, but set in the 1970s. Not one for the faint of heart. (And for those of you who have not yet seen Touching The Void, why not?)

We went to a museum of naif art, ie art that looks like it has been drawn by talentless children. This is a style that is now being taught to kids in the favelas so that they may have another option rather than the grim set of choices that face most of them. But I wouldn`t buy it to hang on my walls at home.

We met up with a friend of a friend and had a very enjoyable evening out with him and his wife, indulging in a few caipirinhas in a part of town that we would not otherwise have gone to. We also got a few tips of places to go etc which was helpful. Unfortunately the following evening we had another spot of bother.

More Problems
My Dad was working here in 1978 for while and was pickpocketed on Copacabana beach. Like father like son, I got mugged in Copacabana too! Though rather than having a bird take off all her clothes to prove she didn´t have any stolen goods on her, we had 2 spaced out kids (probably about 10 & 14): the older one, with eyes like saucers, knew enough English to say he had a gun. I´m not sure he did, but it´s not really worth the risk.

First the little one asked for a handout then his mate appeared and grabbed my shirt before asking for cash, so, after initially refusing, I gave him a bit but he said he wanted it all. So he got it all. In the words of our Peruvian kidnappers, we collaborated with them! He only got about £20-25, so not worth a whole day in the cop shop for a police report for insurance. I´m a bit annoyed and irritated more than anything. At such times a bit of expertise in martial arts would be immensely satisfying. It was on a reasonably busy road just one block away from the beach, at about 8pm. There were a few people around but nobody did anything. Just as well we made a point of never carrying wallets or much of value when out and about.

The following afternoon, whilst on our way from the bus to another part of town we were warned by a benevolent local chap that a gang of kids were following us, and this was in broad daylight in the middle of the afternoon. We had already noticed them in the square we passed through, but hadn´t recently looked over our shoulders. So we ducked out into a cinema were we saw Farenheit 911, which we had planned to see later that day anyway.

We were just starting to quite like Rio, but all this has soured it slightly.

So this all left us with a poor impression of Rio, we needed a change of scene and headed down the coast to Ilha Grande, a big island on the costa verde, about 2.5 hrs south of Rio then a 2hr ferry ride. A few days of reading, on a golden beach, with emerald green water and a forest that stretches from the beach up the hillsides. Very relaxing and a well earned rest after being busy for quite a few weeks now and after the hustle, bustle and hassle of Rio. The only problem was that we have now nearly run out of books and need to find another book exchange! Sitting on the beach in the evening enjoying some wonderful seafood is very relaxing.

We then headed back to Rio for a couple of days, one of the reasons being was to go to a football match in the Maracana stadium. Built to be the largest stadium in the world for the 1950 World Cup (which they lost to Uruguay), it did hold about 180,000 before they reduced the capacity for FIFA and it is now just 105,000. We saw Flamengo v Fluminese, one of the biggest games in domestic football featuring 2 of the biggest teams in Rio, a bit like a a north London derby. It is known as “FluFla”, and unfortunately Fla lost. I saw unfortunately since we we sitting in with the die-hard Flamengo fans. Although there were probably only 40-50,000 fans it was incredibly noisy. (I was a bit surprised that a Sunday afternon game between two such big clubs did not attract a bigger crowd, but they made up in passion what they lacked in numbers). I had a Flamengo cap back in 1978, so I could almost legitamately claim to be a Fla fan. Certainly a highlight for me of our time in Rio, Wembley may have claimed in 1996 that football was “coming home” but perhaps it´s spiritual home is really here in Brazil.

The match itself was quite a languid, lazy, latin affair. But there certainly weren`t any players with a skill level comparable to that of Carlton Palmer on show.

Watching people playing football on the beach, on the multitude of pitches in the parks, so can see why they tend to produce players with much higher levels of skill. Whilst we were running round the park, booting the ball on a full sized pitch, playing 4-a-side (learning about the long ball game), our Brazilian counterparts were busy developping close control by playing beach foot-volleyball. Same rules as beach volleyball, 2-a-side, but all done without hands.

Also during our second trip to Rio, after the beaches, we went up the Corcovado, the Christ The Redeemer statue that overlooks the city. It is the iconic representation of Rio, famous the world over. The views from the top are impressive, allegedly better than from the Sugar Loaf (which we didn`t go up), since from the Corcovado you can see the whole city around you. Coriocas (the people of Rio) say that the statue welcomes visitors with open arms, as the city does. Well, we did meet a lot of very friendly and helpful people, who were happy to tolerate our efforts to communicate in Spanish not Portuguese. However, we also we greeted by a few people who had slightly less friendly intentions.

After the football we had a 22hr bus ride to Foz do Iguacu, and it was a fairly crappy bus too. But on arrival, after minimal sleep and rest, we headed off to the Brazilian side of the Iguacu falls. The following day we went to the Argentinian side. The Brazilian side does has some large scale panoramic views, but on the Argentinian side you can get to walk on catwalks right over the top of some of the bigger falls. There are, apparently, about 270 waterfalls here, stretching for about 4.5km. It is very hard to describe just how impressive it all is, and should be on any tourist´s itinerary. We took some photos, though did succumb to what we call "Sydney Harbour Bridge Syndrome", whereby you plan not to take any more photos but end up taking at least another 10 because there always seems to be a view more deserving of a photo. There really is not much that can be said about the Iguacu falls, you have to see it to believe it, and it has certainly gone straight into our top 5 for the last 4 months.

The noticable thing about Rio and Brazil (aside from the costs which are all much higher than anywhere we have been so far) is that the food here is quite good, as a general rule. In the Andean countries you could find good food occasionally at a price, but at the cheaper end it was all deep fried XYZ + chips. Here they have nice vegetables and salads, fresh produce. And most importantly great fruit juices, many of which you cannot find in the UK and some fruits for which there isn´t even an English name. Açaí is a firm favourite and luckily can be found in the ubiquitous juice bars. In an effort to try to more unusual fruits we gambled a bit on the extensive menu list. My first pick turned out to be nothing more exotic than strawberry, which was fine. But I wasn`t to be put off trying to find something less ordinary. The choise is either to have the juice with a little water (if it is particularly thick by itself) or with milk. For my next choice I picked another unknown word. Unfortunately I received a pint of beetroot juice! it could have been worse, it could have had milk in it.

They also have restaurants where you pay by weight, with extensive cake options for pudding which rather increases the risk of reversing the accumulated benefits of having spent the first 3 months on small rations whilst doing lots of exercise. Churrascorias are a popular eating option here. A salad buffet with waiters coming round the tables with huge skewers of huge lumps of barbecued meat, to be carved at the table. Fantastic quality and a very large selection of cuts of meat.

So Brazil was a mixed bag. We could have really liked Rio, but ended up not seeing as much as we would have liked since it felt a little unsafe. The waterfalls are stunning, (but much better from the Argentinian side). We never intended to spend much time in Brazil, a huge country that could easily absorb all of our 12 months, but a small taster was interesting. We also never planned to go to Paraguay, and here we are.

War and Peace

Location: Santiago, Chile

We have travelled down through Northern Chile, through the Atacama, stopping off in La Serena on the way. We did not see much of the Atacama, since it was an overnight bus. (A reasonably comfortable bus too, not quite club class, but it compared well to Premium Economy.) The north of Chile used to belong to Bolivia, Antofogasta was Bolivia's exit to the world. But after Chile marched into the region in the War of the Pacific (1880s) the subsequent peace treaty left Bolivia landlocked. In that war Chile got as far as Lima in Peru, which is a long way north. As with many wars it was fought for economic reasons, with Chile stealing Bolivia's nitrate resources. Poor old Bolivia has had a tough time with all her neighbours over the years, losing land to Brazil and Peru too.

Now that we are in Chile things have really changed. Women have prams for their babies, rather than just bundling them in a shawl around their back. Life is much more western (ie rich) here and the people look far more European than they did in the other 3 countries.

But it isn`t just the infrastructure that is better here, or the fact that the traffic lights are exactly the same as those in the UK. The music is better too. And this matters, as anyone who has spent many hours on South American buses will tell you.

Bus drivers and their conductors (not so much conductors as someone just leaning out of the bus yelling place names) love to believe that all the passengers want some music. The problem is that the music in most places tends to be

a) pan pipes
b) very bad

not that a) cannot also be b).

Pan pipes is a cliché, but it is also true. An invariably it is some rehashed version of a classic Beatles track, or their all-time favourite that is a Simon & Garfunkel number. Not sure why they think that Western tourists would like to listen to Western songs being mauled by them, but there is no escaping from the ubiquitous sound of Yesterday or Imagine.

The "pop" songs are tragic, and would be comically so if we were not trapped on a bus. Try to imagine the worst Eurovision entries from Southern Europe. Even Stock, Aitken and Waterman would be ashamed to have these songs on their CVs. Even Sonya would have turned these tunes down. Often one tape will be replayed again and again for the whole of an 8 hour journey.

La Serena and Vicuña
About 7 hours north of Santiago is the Elqui valley, home to some of the world's largest telescopes. Still being a bit of a physicist at heart this was one place we couldn't skip´, and we took a tour of one of the few observatories that is open to the public at night. Mopst of the information was a little too basic for my liking but the views of star clusters etc were worth the trip. The valley is also home to the Pisco industry, Chile's national drink. (A slightly different version is also Peru's national drink, as in Pisco sour). Since it was my birthday, we had a little tour and taste. Not something I would order in a bar, but nice enough whilst at the distillery.

Santiago
A modern city, with a clean underground that reminds me a bit of those in Paris and Hong Kong. Glass skyscrapers, modern cars, and the hustle and bustle that did exist elsewhere, but it has a more Western look to it.

We've been up the coast to Valpairiso, where the congress is based. Formerly an important port, but less so nowadays. Surrounded by hills, parts are quite attractive, but it's not a place that I would recommend to anyone with limited time. But a nice relaxing break for us, and a great lunch at a French restaurant run by a bloke from Montpellier.

A Night at the Opera
We had done a bit of web research before arriving and knew that Rigoletto was on that day we arrived. The website showed the only available tickets at $130!! But we managed to get seats at the back of the amphitheatre for a lot less than that from the box office a few hours before curtain up. A sumptous interior to the opera house and a good performance of my favourite opera capped the end of a belated birthday celebration. The only slight irritation was that quite a few of the people in the cheap seats (ie where we were) seemed to think it was acceptable to behave in the same way as they would in a cinema, so there were some distractions to endure. But it didn't spoil a great evening.

Skiing in August!
Whilst the UK has been ending what we understand to have been a very wet August, with a bank holiday no doubt also filled with rain, we have been hitting the slopes!

Only about 90 min drive from Santiago are a few resorts so we did 2 day trips with Total Ski to Valle Nevado (all the hotels were full, and very expensive too). It does make it a long day since taking a tube, faffing around to get all the gear on the roof of a minibus plus the drive makes it nearly 3 hrs each way from hotel to slopes. But worth it anyway.

I had wanted to tell you about the wonderful powder snow we had, since apparently the snow in the Andes is not like that in the Alps, and is supposedly of a better quality. But it has been very warm here for the last few days, and probably before too, so it was all a bit mushy and soggy, which was a shame. But it was fine for 2 days and slightly surreal for an August Bank Holiday weekend.

Vineyards
There are a number of regions near to Santiago and we went to the Maipo Valley to Concha y Toro for a tour and taste. Sadly they don`t have a restaurant so we couldn`t stay for lunch.

As for War and Peace, of the literary type, rather than a reference to the local history, well I've finished it, and it is the sort of book that requires the kind of time that only really becomes available when not working! Definitely recommended. But I'm not sure I agree with Tolstoy's views on the inevitability of the progress of events and history.

So that's both books that we left London with finished and now we are into the realms of trying to swap books, and trying to find something that isn't airport trash. We've been lucky enough to find a copy of The Times here in Santiago, and The Economist so we have something to sustain us on forthcoming bus journeys.

We've been following some of the Olympics on the web, and in some hotels we've had CNN. Seems like we have had a good games this time. Pity poor old Paula couldn't match the performance that she put in when she raced against us two in the '03 London Marathon.

The big story that dominated the media here for days was Chile´s first ever Olympic gold medal, in the men`s doubles. This was then followed up by their second ever medal in the men`s singles, meaning a double gold for Nicolas Massu. We saw the latter part of the doubles and the atmosphere was great, though quite restrained for a country`s first ever gold. Most people had left the bar by the time the medals were presented and the anthem was played.

The other big story from here is that Pinochet`s immunity from prosecution has been overturned. Interesting time to be here in Chile.

Sucre, Potosi, Uyuni and the salt flats

Location: San Pedro de Atacama, Northern Chile, near the Bolivian border

After leaving La Paz we flew to Sucre. (It`s certainly nice being a little more financially solvent than the Gap Year backpackers, it does enable us to skip the odd long bs journey.) Sucre, the capital, is a quaint little white town (or the colonial centre at least is white). Nice for a couple of days relaxing, but not a huge amount to do. The only thing we did, other than relax in the warm sun for the first time in almost a couple of months, was visit some 65 million year dinosaur footprints. Originally beside a lake the techtonic movements have pushed the rocks up to an angle of about 75 degrees, with tracks appearing to stretch upwards in a gravity defying manner.

From Sucre it was Potosi next. There is a hill, "Rich Hill" behind the town that sustained the Spanish Empire for many decades. Huge amounts of silver were found, extracted and shipped off to Spain. Some say that the amount of silver taken from the mine could be used to build a bridge of solid metal from Potosi to Spain, but who knows if that is true. Potosi is the highest city of its size in the world, at about 4,100m. In its heyday, in the 16th century, it was bigger than London, Paris or Seville. Its fame was widely known, and even Don Quixote referred the its wealth, in a similar way to the expression "all the tea in China".

The mine is still a working site, with about 6,000 people in it. It is possible to ake a tour of one of the mines, so we did.

Conditions have not changed much in the last few hundred years. Carts are pushed y hand along rails, there are no mechanical drills and all the ore is shifted by shovel. To make a hole for inserting dynamite in the rock face there is a blke with a long metal stake and a hammer. It can take anwhere from 3 to 10 hours to make one hole about 60cm deep. Hard work: it`s dusty, some Arsenic exists, toxic gases, risk of collapse, 10 hour days without sunlight or food. They don`t eat in the mines since anything would just get contaminated leading to ingestionof chemicals. The only thing that keeps them going is chewing coca leaves, just as the miners did 500 years ago.

It´s a brutal reminder that a lot of the world has to endure harsh working conditions, with virtually no health and safety standards. 90% of the miners said, in a survey, that they didn´t like their job but that they had no other option. They tend to start at the age of 13 or 14, and have a life expectancy of about 50, with most ending up with silicosis, a lung disease. We spent about 3 hours inside, crawling on hands and knees, walking through tunnels with low ceilings and scrabbling up and down makeshift ladders. It is hard work, partly due to the altitude, partly due to the dust, partly due to the cramped conditions. Although I never felt claustrophic it was certainly nice to get back to fresh air.

The miners here work 10-12 hour days and are paid for what they produce. They have to pay a tax to the state and pay for all their own equipment, as they are effectively self-employed. Most take home about US$4-5 per day. As the guide (an ex-miner) said, it makes you appreciate your job.

From Potosi to Uyuni, where tours to the famous salt flats start. Day one involves a short drive to the salt flat. On the way there we stopped at a salt processing "factory", really a very simple operation involving drying the salt and bagging it. 50kg for 6Bs, (about 40 pence). Not hugely profitable work. Once at the salt plain itself, white stretches all the way to the horizon, then merges, almost seamlessly, with the slightly hazy sky. This part of South America was originally in the sea, but with the creation of the region currently to the West, a massive amount of sea water was retained in lakes. Lakes bounded by mountains with no rivers leaving them.

In the middle of the expanse of white salt are a few volcanic islands, with huge cacti up to 1,000 years old. But aside from the odd place where the horizon is broken it is just blinding white salt.

After leaving the salt flat we had a couple of days driving, in a 4x4, through fairly rugged terrain, passing mountains, volcanoes and lakes of different colours. It is very bleak here, inhospitable and very cold. The last night we had a fair bit of snow, with howling winds. There was ice on the inside of the windows. We were up early and left about 7am to drive off through the snow, not knowing whether we would be able to reach the Chilean border, where we would leave rather than return to Uyuni. At times the driving wind reduced visibility to a couple of meters, which makes it even harder to follow a vague track through rocky ground. We had heard (false) rumours that the snow was about 1m deep up at about 5,000m but this turned out not to be true. We didn´t get to see some geysers, due to the weather, but other than that it just provided us with a slghtly more exciting journey, and some incredible views (when the blizzards subsided).

Of course, as is familiar to readers now, no journey here is complete with some mechanical problem. Our engine stalled and would not restart. After a bit of tinkering, involving ripping some wires out from under the dashboard, we were off again to great relief.

And now we are in Chile. They have roads with tarmac, they even have crash barriers on corners. They have road signs. They have shops like mini-supermarkets. And they have beer that is much better than the rubbish we found in Bolivia. But this ikind of luxury costs, and prices here are higher, though as a border town they are in a position to take advantage of the tourist flows that have to pass this way.

However, despite the comparison above, Bolivia was a great country. More interesting in many ways than either Peru or Ecuador, they have retained much more original Andean culture, and have been diluted less by the modern world. That can lead to problems, but does make for a fascinating time. I´d certainly recommend Bolivia over Peru (especially if a trip to Peru just involves the standard Machu Picchu, Lima, Nazca route).

The World´s Most Dangerous Road

Location: Sucre, Bolivia

La Paz and the surrounding area including Bolivia’s most important pre-Inca site, and cycling down the most dangerous road in the world.

We’ve finally left La Paz now, having been there, on and off, for quite a while. More interesting than Quito or the small amount we saw of Lima. The setting of La Paz is impressive. The flat plain (the alto Plano at about 3,900m) drops off into a bowl shaped valley, where La Paz was founded due to the weather being slightly warmer at a slightly lower altitude (3,500m). There is another city (El Alto, Bolivia`s 3rd largest) on the plateau, though it looks like La Paz overspill rather than a separate entity.

Although most of us were probably taught that La Paz is the capital, it isn’t: Sucre is. In the past Sucre was the most important city, but after a minor revolution the government was moved to La Paz, to pacify the people in that part of the country. But the capital has always remained in Sucre, although all important functions are carried out in La Paz, which is the most important administrative city. We were in La Paz for the celebrations to mark the anniversary of the birth of the Republic of Bolivia, but all the interesting stuff, along with the president and the government had moved back to Sucre for a couple of days. So, there wasn’t much celebrating to see in La Paz.

One of the slightly unsettling things about La Paz is that all the shoeshine boys (1Bs or 7 pence) wear balaclavas, which when we first arrived was a little too much like our captors in Peru. A bit weird until you get used to it. The indigenous people are much more prominent here: old women with bowler hats perched on their heads, colourful clothes, and markets that spill over off the pavements into the streets. We stayed near to the witches´ market, which offers a numbers of interesting souvenir opportunities, such as dried llama foetuses. Sadly it probably would not last the journey home over the next 9 months. Apparently they are used for good luck in association with other items that are burnt as an offering, a tradition that dates back to pre-Inca times.

The most important pre-Inca site in Bolivia is at Tiwanaku, not far from Lake Titicaca. It may well be the last archaeological site we see, no bad thing since we have been to a fair few now. The ruins themselves are not that impressive but we received a wealth of information from a knowledgeable guide. Although some of this info did contradict with other info we have previously received, so it’s not clear what the “official” version of events is. The civilisation based at Tiwanaku was technologically advanced and had an influence that stretched from Colombia to Northern Peru and Argentina. The main ruins were taken apart by the Spanish, with stones used to build churches and houses, as far afield as northern Peru. An interesting day trip, but perhaps a book is needed when we get home to sort out the tangled web of various overlapping cultures that we have encountered so far.

In another day trip from La Paz, a few days before our 6,000m climb, we walked up to 5,600m (though did only start at 5,300m). This provided us with great, though daunting, views of Huyana Potosi, which we would tackle 2 days later. As from the summit of HP the views here were amazing.

The most dangerous road in the world
It’s not clear if this road, a section between La Paz and Coroico, still holds this unofficial title. A few years ago there was reckoned to be one bus or truck over the edge every 2 weeks. Apparently now it is just once a month. So the death toll for a 40km stretch of road has dropped from about 600 to 300 a year. The road is carved out of the side of a very steep cliff in a large valley. The drop, which is near vertical in many places, is up to about 400m. So being too near to the edge, on what is an unpaved, dirty, dusty, rocky road is not a good idea. Generally in Bolivia they drive on the right. On this stretch of road however, all traffic is on the left. This means that the driver, rather than being in the centre of the “road” is much nearer the cliff edge, so is better able to get the tyres right up to the edge without slipping over. That’s the theory, but you can see the odd bit of wreckage over the edge and a lot of crosses all along the road. The left hand edge of the road, when going down, is the dangerous side. We started at about 4,700m and then dropped down to about 1,100m, a big vertical drop in only about 60km.

So we all had to cycle, on the left, about 1-2 metres from the drop off. Most of the time, since you have to concentrate on the bumpy road, you don’t think much about the potentially large fall to one side. Many of the corners are blind, and our Aussie guide frequently reminded us that we should cycle within our ability or, in his words, the corners may be a bit “more exciting for you”. It takes quite a few hours to get down, including a stretch at the top on tarmac, ideal for those of us who have not been on a bike very often in the last 15 years. It was a good day out, though the 4 hour trip back was rather a slow grind back up hill. Fortunately, we passed out of the “most dangerous” section before it was dark. We went with Gravity Assisted Mountain biking, who Ian had previously recommended, and who are touted as the best by all the books. We found them to be extremely professional and would also recommend them to anyone.

So that was the week of some more exciting, dangerous (in a controlled way), and active stuff. Luckily the legs were not too sore from the mountain climbing and had no effect on the cycling. The next few days are, hopefully, going to be more relaxing.

Huayna Potosi: 6,088 metres above sea level

Location: La Paz, Bolivia

Concerning our mountaineering adventure, where we scale a peak of over 6,000m.

There are very few places in the world with 6,000 metre mountains, but the Andes is full of them. There are also very few 6,000m mountains that are accessible to inexperienced tourist punters like us, and not just for the pros who travel with all their own kit. And most of the people we saw did have all their own kit.

We hadn’t been thinking of mountaineering, and hadn’t even been aware of the possibility of an “easy” mountain until we met a Dutch bloke when we were in the Pampas. So having done a bit of limited research into just how difficult it was, we took the plunge and booked it.

From La Paz it’s about 90 minutes to the start point, at about 4,700m. Whereas for our trek in the Cordillera Blanca in Peru we had donkeys to carry most of the stuff, leaving us to walk with little more than water and camera, here everything had to be carried by us and the guides. It was about 2 hours up to the point where we camped, at about 5,300m. Not too tough, but made slightly harder by carrying about 15kg of kit. Also the boots we had, designed to take crampons, were a cross between a walking boot and a ski boot, though nearer to a ski boot. So with fairly inflexible boots we had to walk up over very rocky terrain, and near the top it was icy and snowy, and some of you will know what it is like to walk over ice in ski boots. We were lucky with the weather since it had snowed the day before but was fine and sunny for us on both days.
Great views from our campsite, a rocky and breezy, exposed ridge. We arrived about 2pm, and there is little to do but wait until the next morning. We had to be up at 1am, so it was an opportunity to try to get a bit of sleep. But sleep is hard to come by at more than 5,000m, and the rocky ledge, what sounded like a howling gale and a poor sleeping bag didn’t help (nor did the whiff of the soap-dodging French bloke in our tent).

Then up in the middle of the night and we set off a bit after 2am. Luckily the wind had calmed down, but even without much wind hill it was still bitterly cold. The walking at night was not like the trekking we had previously done. This was proper climbing. Proper, hard-core mountaineering. Crampons on, with ice axe in hand, and roped up with our guide, we set off up the first slope that was about 45 degrees. With head lights to guide us the early part was not too tough. Having been at around 4,000m for a while now we are fairly well acclimatised to the altitude, and walking slowly means that you don’t get out of breath. But it is slow progress.

After a couple of hours we had the first tough bit. We had been warned when we booked that it was mostly easy, but that there were two slightly more difficult parts. The first was about 80 degrees for 10 metres, then 60 degrees for another 20 metres. It doesn’t sound much, but when it is icy then it takes some effort to hack up it with the ice axe.

The night sky was amazing, as it is in many places here, where there is little light pollution combined with clear skies at altitude. We also saw the moon rise, which added more light to climb by. Later on we saw a truly amazing sunrise, being at such altitude means that you can see a massive amount of the horizon ablaze with orange and red, rather than the more limited view of the sky you normally get from the ground. Difficult to appreciate the sunrise after having been walking for about 4 hours, and it was behind us which meant turning round, and stopping to gaze is not an option when you are all roped together.

As we neared the summit we could see that the last part, another one of the hard parts, really was quite steep. And quite long. It was about 200m long and 60 degrees all the way to the top. Although the sun was now up, it hadn’t yet really warmed us up, and with the coldest part of the night being just before sunrise we were pretty cold. It was cold enough for the water in our bottles, whiuch were in our rucksacks, to freeze. We had been going for about five and a half hours when we reached the bottom, so were already tired. Phillippa in particular was quite tired and this last bit was going to be the hardest by some margin. Having got about a third up the final slope we had to stop and wait for the guide to sprint (in comparison to our more steady progress) up the slop to attach a rope higher up. So we were left standing on the slope for what seemed like ages. Although it was very cold whilst climbing your body heat is enough to stay warm. But once we had stopped for about 10 minutes the cold set in. Hands went first, in particular the one holding the axe, which, as it was metal, was very cold. After going cold, then numb, they became extremely painful. Without knowing what the symptoms of frostbite are it was hard not to think that it may be setting in. So we are both banging hands together whilst wiggling toes, whilst hanging on to the side of the mountain, hoping the guide gets the rope secured as quickly as possible.

The last 200m took a very long time. But we both made it to the top. I’m particularly proud of Phillippa, since she really struggled up this last climb. But with a lot of guts and determination, a fair amount of swearing, and a few tears she conquered her tiredness and made it to the summit.

The sky, as viewed from 6,088m is a very deep blue, almost purple. I’m not sure it is possible to see sky this colour anywhere else than from mountain peaks. The summit wasn’t a classic point that we could stand on for photos, but a ridge made of snow. Being careful not to get too near the edge, which was melting and crumbling in places with holes of views down the other side, it was possible to see a great panoramic view. The rest of the mountains in one direction, Lake Titicaca in the other, with the city of El Alto just about visible in the gaps. In all it was about 7 hours, with only a few small breaks, to reach to top. A long day, but there was still a lot of walking yet to do.

But then, of course, you need to get down. Apparently more accidents happen on the descent than the ascent, which is nice to know as you set off. Going down a 60 degree slope in crampons is almost as hard as going up, but luckily doesn’t take quite as long. The views of glaciers, snow caves and crevasses on the way down were very interesting. It was possible to pick out some of the crevasses on the way up in the dark, but only in daylight can you see just how deep they are. We had to cross a few, and generally there was only a narrow “bridge” to cross over. No time to stop for photos these were parts that, understandably, had to be crossed quickly. The journey back to camp was about 3 hours, making 10 so far. We were all quite knackered and were given 20 minutes to rest before continuing on back to the 4x4. But we took more than this and the guide would just have to be late for his dinner. Almost as soon as we got back Phillippa managed to fall asleep curled up on a nice comfy slab of rock. The final part was another 90 minutes back to the jeep, back down over the boulders in uncomfortable boots, this time with blisters from the rest of the climbing.

Neither of us had any problems with the altitude, of course it slows you down, but we didn’t have headaches or other symptoms. But alot of people probably did. There were many people at the campsite, but probably only 20-30% of them managed to get to the top. We could see, from the summit, people turning back when they saw the last 200m ice face loom into view. So that makes it even more rewarding that we are in the minority who succeeded.

So there it is, our most extreme adventure yet (of those we have voluntarily undertaken!). A 6,000m peak scaled. And we are both pretty chuffed. There is nothing higher in Europe, it’s about 200m higher than Kilimanjaro and about 100m less than Mt McKinley. But, unlike Kilimanjaro, this is real mountaineering, rather than just a walk uphill at altitude!

The Bare Necessities

Another interesting bus journey, the second instalment of our Jungle Book story, and a trip to the Pampas in search of anacondas and pink dolphins.

Our few days around Lake Titicaca were wonderful. Our first evening in Copacobana we saw a fantastic sunset followed by a great view of the night sky, including the Milky Way.

We took a very slow boat over to the Isla del Sol, and then walked for a few hours along the ridge that is the backbone of the island. Views of the lake on both sides and the mountains beyond La Paz in the distance. We were lucky to have clear, bright blue skies all day, with little cloud on the mountains. After a night on the island we found a bloke to take us across the water to the end of the mainland peninsula. From there it was another scenic 4 hour walk back to Copacobana.

The bus trip to La Paz was interesting. We should have known that the buses were very disorganised when we bought a ticket from our hotel and there were no seat numbers. Lo and behold it was heavily overbooked, with about 20 people more than the bus could take. But there is another bus! Fine. But it was a crappy local bus, not a larger coach. We all piled in anyway, apart from an Israeli family who ranted and refused to get on.

The bus engine sounded a bit dodgy, and that is from someone who knows little about engines. We joked about how we would probably break down. About 40 minutes from La Paz we did break down. At about 4,000m it was a very scenic spot with mountains, and it was not raining so it could have been far worse. None of the passing traffic would stop, nearly all the buses were full anyway. But after about 30 minutes a bus did stop and we grabbed the bags and ran down the road to ensure we were among those who could get on. Only after a while did we realise that our driver was a 14 year old boy. Just before the suburbs of La Paz, where there was a police check point, he pulled up to let his Dad (we presume) get in to carry on driving.
The original reason for booking the bus we did was that it would take us directly to a hotel in the centre. Thus avoiding the bus station which we had heard a few horror stories about. But this second bus just dropped us at the bus station. Great. So after a taxi to the centre we wander around looking for a hotel. Because it is almost dark we end up at the one place we swore we would not stay at: the place we would have gone to had the bus company not overbooked. But circumstances, and nightfall, mean that we don’t want to wander around with all our stuff anymore. It wasn’t even that great a hotel.

The following day we jetted off in a little Cessna to Rurrenabaque the jumping off point for the jungle and the pampas.

The jungle
We had previously been to the jungle in Ecuador (see Fri 18 June), and this is part two of our Jungle Book adventure. Bolivia has some regions with the highest bio-diversity in the whole of South America and has the advantage of being cheaper than Brazil or Peru (eg Manu Biosphere).
We went to Chalalan Lodge, an eco-lodge in the Madidi National Park, although most places use this tag as it is the latest trend in tourism. But Chalalan truly is an eco-lodge.

It was conceived, designed, built and is now fully staffed by people from one small community further upstream. Previously they were engaged in illegal logging, but now have a much more sustainable source of income. In the last 10 years the money from the lodge has provided drinking water to every house, a school, a doctor etc.

Chalalan is about 4 hours up the Beni river and Tuichi river. It is now the dry season so the rivers are low. This meant that at times it was too shallow to run the outboard motor and the crew had to punt against the current. At one point they had to leap out to push.
When we were there the weather was very poor, it rained heavily for about 18 hours day for 2 of the 3 days. It was also very cold, and we were wearing almost as many clothes as we did on our Andean trek. This meant that much of the wildlife was being sensible and taking cover. We also took cover, but only after a 4 hour walk in torrential rain that meant we got soaked. My boots, which had never yet failed me, ended up quite soggy and took 2 evenings by the camp oven to dry out. Although the animals were not visible there was still a wealth of information on the plants from the guide: which were used as medicinal plants, which for producing hair cream, which for building houses etc.

We saw a large number of bird species, including a "pre-historic" bird that has a stomach closely related to that of a cow and has chicks that are born with claws. There are 4cm long ants that can put you in bed for 24 hours with a fever and great pain, and a spider that can do the same. We saw a large stoat-like creature, 2 varieties. On a night paddle round the lake beside the lodge we saw a number of caimans (like alligators). The ones we saw in Ecuador were only about 1m long, and we thought that this was about as big as they get. But apparently they can grow to about 6-7m, but are only dangerous above about 4m. As we slowly approached a pair of red eyes, light by our torches, it suddenly took fright, its tail having been caught by the back of the boat. With a thrash of the tail that rocked the boat it was gone. All very Crocodile Dundee. We didn’t see any man eating wild pigs (peccaries) though, or a jaguar (which are only spotted about 5 times a year).

For those of you with access to back issues of National Geographic there are some interesting articles on the Madidi Park, including details of the man eating pigs and other jungle hazards.

Then back to Rurrenabaque for a night of cocktails, before heading off to the pampas.

The Pampas
It was a bumpy and very dusty 3 hour trip in a 4x4 to the Yacuna river. I had thought that maybe the pampas, an area of wet grassland and swamp, was the result of deforestation over previous years. But it is entirely natural.

Most of the trips we did here were on the river. The wildlife is much more prolific than in the jungle, or at least much easier to spot. Lots of caimans, mostly around 4-5 foot, but the odd six-footer. A vast number of species of birds, including rheas, lots of different herons, egrets, vultures etc. On 2 occasions we saw pink dolphins, (really grey with a pinkish tinge). Luckily for us there was just our boat with a few people on board, we had heard tales of 4 boat loads of tourists all swimming with dolphins.

We also went searching for anacondas, but sadly didn’t find any (though we did see an anaconda cobra). The weather was much better in the pampas. Before going to the jungle we were looking forward to a few days of sun and heat, having been cold for most of the last 2 months. The jungle disappointed in this respect, but the pampas was a success.

Then back to Rurrenabaque for a few more cocktails to celebrate one month to the day since our release! And on to La Paz.

Back to Normality

Location: Copacobana, the shores of Lake Titicaca, Bolivia

Lima, the Nazca Lines, Cusco and Machu Picchu

The whole hostage thing was a few weeks ago now, and I´ve been a bit slow in commenting on what has happened sicne.  But here it is.

We didn´t see much of Lima, since we spent a fair amount of time in police stations and at the Amex office.  (Don´t believe the adverts of the smiling family who had their traveller´s cheques replaced in 24 hours with no stress!)  Fortunately Amex came through in the end and replaced all the losses.  Central Lima seems very oppressive, a bit aggressive, and slightly lacking in charm.  But that is the view from a taxi between police stations.  There are some lovely colonial buildings etc, but we didn´t see them.  We also missed all the good museums.

We stayed in a suburb called Barranco, which used to be a separate seaside resort until it was engulfed by Lima.  Charming old colonial architecture, nice restaurants, less of the hustle of the big city, definitely a good recommendation from fellow our hostage, the doctor who lives in Barranco.  Miraflores is where a lot of the tourists stay, but it is a modern suburb lacking in charm or personality.

After a few days we headed off to Nazca, about 6 hours south of Lima.  About 1 hour out of Lima we saw a big bus crash, 2 buses had collided almost head on.  In each bus, about the front 70% of the seats on one side of the aisle had been completely obliterated.  No trace left.  The crash happened about 7 hours before we passed through in heavy early morning fog.  It really was truely horrific.  On the evening news we saw that there were 36 fatalities, and more injured.  It was reassuring in some ways that this featured as a leading story, emphasising that although there are a lot of accidents here ones on this scale are newsworthy and hence rare.

In Nazca we took a flight over the famous Nazca Lines.  This was one of the highlights of the 2 1/2 months so far.  The lines are truely remarkable.  The scale is staggering, both of each individual design and the area over which they can be seen.  Still nobody knows quite why there were made, what they signify, or even when they were made (at least not that precisely).  Absolutely fascinating.  Any trip to Peru just to go to Machu Picchu would be incomplete without a trip to Nazca.

Also in Nazca we had a trip to a pre-Inca cemetary.  Most of the region has suffered from grave robbing over the years.  However, there are some reconstructed graves, complete with mummified bodies.  Quite interesting, but not worth a trip to Nazca alone for.

After a trip back to Lima, through the early morning fog, we had an evening to relax before flying to Cusco.  One of the national airlines (not ours) was suspended the day before, so it was a bit manic at the airport.  Cusco is a very attractive city, many squares surrounded by collonades and imposing churches.  But also very touristy, as you would expect for the starting point for all things related to Machu Picchu.  A pleasant place to relax for a few few days, although a spot of food poisoning was unwelcome.

We saw a few museums and sites (though the "10-day Cusco museum ticket" didn´t seem to include any of the decent sites we wanted to see).  There was one museum of pre-Colombian art that had an amazing collection of ceramics, wooden objects and gold and silver.  Sadly though it was set out more as an art gallery than a museum, so there was little historical information to put items in context.   There was a load of pretentious twaddle, of the type found in Tate Modern, about the artist engaging the viewer, creating pieces that transcend time, using the space of the sculpture... etc etc.  Interesting artefacts spoilt by art critic nonsense.

We didn´t manage to organise a trek on the Inca trail to Machu Picchu, even though we tried about 5-6 weeks in advance.  Recent changes to the rules have made the waiting list longer and it harder to arrange.  So we took the train, with all the fat Americans and other disappointed backpackers.  Before going to the site itself we climbed a nearby hill for a view of the ruins from a distance.  Spectacular.  This walk (only about 1.5 hours) doesn´t seem to be in any of the book but the tourist office in Agua Calientes can tell you where to go.

The following day we spent about 5 huors at the site, wandering around.  The setting is stunning, and the size of the ruins is also impressive.  Having heard so many people rave about it over the years I was prepared to be a bit underwhelmed and disappointed, but it is really impressive.  (Not as impressive as Pompeii in my opinion though.)  Luckily by getting there very early it was not too busy, which was a concern since this is peak season.  Sadly we only have a cheapish camera to last us until we get to the US and can replace our stolen stuff at a reasonable cost, so the photos may not be as good as they would have been.  Never mind.

Then from Cusco we toojk the train to Puno.  A big mistake, since the bus is much quicker, but interesting nonetheless.  After 10 hours (for what is only about 300km) we got to Puno on the shore of Titicaca, a sprawling mass.  No intention of staying there, and we came to Copacobana, just over the Bolivian border, today.  The views of Lake Titicaca are beautiful.  Yet another place that feature in geography lessons, and yet here we are.

Kidnapped

Location: Cusco, Peru

In which we are taken at gunpoint, asked for $50,000 and held for about 5 hours before being released.

The previous post on the first 5 days of our trek failed to mention the 2 Brits who joined us at the start in Llamac: Rod, working as a doctor in Lima, so speaks good Spanish, which later was to prove invaluable; Paul, out visiting his mate from school days, a lecturer in Philosophy. Very friendly, affable and interesting.

We all got on extremely well and enjoyed their company, although during the day they tended to be a bit ahead of us, or off on a bit of extra curricular, off-route hill climbing. Sadly the cold prevented us from sitting out in the evenings. No stereotypical chatting round a campfire. Once the sun goes down, about 6:20, the temperature drops quite quickly. So although it`s too early to go to bed, it`s also too cold not to. So sleeping bags by 6:30 every night.

On the morning of the 6th day, whilst packing up the kit, the other two were approached and asked for a fee, since they had been protected the night before by this bloke in a house 50m away. We weren`t asked, and it may be that this was a payment to cover the cost of the booze drunk by the guides and donkey-boys the previous evening.

It was another cold night, lots of frost on the ground and tent. It started snowing as we left, and got heavier the higher we went. As we stopped for a break mid-morning we also had a snowball fight.

Not long after continuing on after the snowball fight, the action started. A bloke with a balaclava and a .22 rifle appeared, from nowhere, and started letting of rounds. In fact Phillippa got a small wound in her arm from what we think must have been a piece of rock. Not quite a bullet wound, but real nonetheless, but not serious. Phillippa and I were at the back and we hadn`t heard any gunfire before, or seen anything untoward. Though, towards the top of a 4,800m pass you tend to look less at the surroundings and more at your feet, as you plod on upwards.

I automatically assumed that this was nothing to do with us, and even said good afternoon to him. After all, there´s no reason for a British chap to forget that good manners count when abroad. I thought maybe he was out nicking sheep or cows, but you probably don`t need a balaclava to hide your identity from a sheep. He was gesturing up towards to top of the pass, where we were heading anyway, so I plodded on. Rounding a large rock I saw Rod sitting on the floor, with another bandit by him. Even then I still had to ask what was going on, "I think we`re being mugged".

Great. So us 4 Brits are herded up to a point that is slightly higher than the pass itself. We can see the locals who were travelling with us ahead, and they have their hands tied behind their backs. When we get to a small encampment, we can see that our guide has blood from his nose and has clearly had a bit of a beating.

We then spend about 40 mins sitting down outside, still with rucksacks on and all just looking at our feet. Partly not to antagonise them and also to avoid seeing anything particularly nasty, if they start on the guides again. Which I don`t think they did at that point.

It`s difficult to quite believe what is going on, it`s one of those situations that your brain is so unprepared for that you wonder whether it is actually occuring. The bandits seem quite civil, making the whole experience rather surreal. They moved us, whilst we were outside, to suggest we sit on a drier area.

We were then moved to a large tent, where we met a couple of other Brits, Michelle and Thomas, who had been taken about 45 mins before us. The guides and donkey-boys were being held elsewhere and we had no real idea of what was happening to them.

They then offered us lunch and asked if we would prefer soup or pasta. Very civilised. And after soup and tea, the big cheese came over and spoke with Rod, whose Spanish was at this point fairly crucial to the group as a whole.

They wanted $50,000 and although I think Rod quickly said that was impossible, we were given 30 minutes to discuss it together. There is a commonly held belief in parts of South America that foreign tourists are not just just richer than they are (which of course we are) but that we are absolutely dripping with money. We all pooled the cash we had, which didn`t amount to much. Michelle had about 20p in Vietnamese Dong, which we explained was about $100, which helped to up the total.

The amount offered, which was probably about $350, was deemed to be an insult. At this point I thought they might take one of us outside for a pasting, to show how serious they were. They wanted to know why we didn`t have more, where we were all going next and how we would manage to get there. They didn`t seem to understand that cash has limited value on an 8-day mountain trek, and that the odd fresh fish and a tip for the guides was all the cash we needed. They seemed to believe that our entire trip was funded by cash, although we tried to explain that tourists are aware of the dangers of being robbed and so carry little cash.

Throughout Rod had been at pains to explain that we would help in any way we could. We had already mentioned expensive items that they could have but they didn´t really seem that interested.

They had already started talking about whether we could spend the night here, at about 4,850m. The guide with us had suggested that it would be too high and hence too cold. We were keen to move, even if it still meant spending the night with our captors. But clearly, an overnight stay suggests a longer term problem. If all they want is our stuff then they don`t need us overnight for that.
 
We saw 4 of them, but they claimed to be a group of 10.

The bandits did know of a larger group that were 1 day behind us, and we also told them about this group. We think maybe we their plan was to hold us so we couldn`t warn them, and they would be grabbed in a similar way the following day.

We talked to them about credit cards, but told a little white lie about only being able to get $100 per day, per person. And of course this involves a trip to a town, a couple of days away. They didn`t seem to believe that we couldn`t just get $50,000 on a credit card very easily, so we had to explain that the card companies have limits in the event of loss or theft, to prevent robbers taking too much from them!

They then seemed interested in all the stuff in our daypacks. So one by one we were taken from the tent and were body searched, though in a farily amateur fashion. At this point I lost a few things, most importantly a Swiss penknife that was a present from some ex-colleagues at SG. They then went through the rucksack. I had already removed the memory card as soon as we were first placed in the tent. But actually they asked everybody to remove film or memory cards, not sure whether this was a concession so we at least had some photos of the trip. So then went the camera, which was also partly funded by some contributions from ex-colleagues.

When Michelle`s turn came they found an old $10 bill than was in an obscure pocket and had been through the wash numerous times, and they weren`t happy that this had been held from them, although we couldn`t see what was going on. At this point we started thinking about a small amount of cash we had in our main bag, carried on the donkey, and presumably already being searched by one of the bandits. We also had quite a sizable amount of travellers cheques, and it was a dilemma whether to declare these or not.

We`ve since met up with all 4 of our fellow hostages, and they`ve all asked why we didn`t. With hindsight, given the replaceable nature of them, it perhaps seems obvious that we should have offerred them up, especially given the amounts concerned. But, given they were not interested in credit cards and they had already claimed to only live in the mountains Amex travellers cheques are of limited use. Yes, there probably is a market for them, but I was prepared to tell them I thought that they would have not value for them.

We were all asked the size of our boots, but I think all the men had sizes too big and some sense of fair play stopped them from taking boots off the girls, they knew none of us has spare footware.
 
On a few occasions they "reassured" us by telling us that nobody was going to get killed. These are not the kind of people you can necessary believe though!  Although this had clearly gone through my mind, I never saw it as a serious threat, or likely possibility.  It was merely theoretical in the way that them giving back my camera remained a possibility.  But the fact that they wished to say it wouldn`t happen clearly meant that it was on their minds as an option. Although I never saw this as an eventuality, having spoken to the others since, it appears that this was a much more real threat for them.

We then had a question and answer session, mainly on people`s backgrounds, jobs ie wealth and status. We reverted to being students again, and everyone else downsized their jobs accordingly. Working for any kind of bank was not the answer to give, even if they had understood the idea of an international investment bank.  And what did our parents do? Well, funnily enough, most people`s parents ended up being teachers or otherwise connected with education.
 
We were then rounded up for a group photo.  Maybe they have a HQ with a rogues gallery of tourists on the wall of the bosses office.  They told us that as they now had our photos they could track us down in Bolivia, Peru, Colombia.  On the way out I think most of us had the thought, though for me very fleeting, that maybe this was going to be a line up similar to the one at the end of The Great Escape, when the escapees are let out of the back of the truck for a stretch and then gunned down.  But it was just a photo, 2 in fact.  For some bizarre reason most of us were smiling like we would for any other holiday photo, but better to play along rather than some defiant gesture to camera.

And then, fairly quickly, it was clear that we were going to be released. So no overnight stay. The locals had packed up the stuff, the donkeys were loaded, and whilst being watched from the hills, we were allowed over the pass to continue on our way.

The relief was, of course, huge, but there was no looking back, just keep walking. After a couple of hours, and the last 20 minutes in the dark, we reached a place where we thought of camping. We stopped to see what other stuff they had taken from the main bag: a couple of pairs of trekking trousers, decent walking socks. And rather oddly my swimming trunks.  We had thought about just walking through the night, since we`d lost sleeping bags and mats etc... In the end we stayed, and that was a good decision, even though it was a very cold night.

We found out that our guide and arerio had been given quite serious beatings and both had, at some point, really thought they were going to die. Luckily for the tourists, we didn`t get this treatment.

Then about 8 hours the following day, with our big bag, Rod & Paul had their main bags too, (though of course without our small rucksacks!). We finally reached Cajatamba late afternoon after a very draining day since we`d not eaten well for a couple of days. Luckily we were saved by having some dollar notes in clingfilm under the inner sole in my boot, and some in Phillippa´s boot too. We were fairly sure that this wouldn`t be found, and was too valuable to give up. This let us get a hotel, meal, and bus out of their the next day. We had thought about trying to get a pickup truck to take us to a town, but it was rainign and bouncing around in the back of a truck for many hours all night was losing it`s appeal the longer we had to wait for the bloke we had been negotiating with. Rod & Paul did in the end take the truck, but only got to the town at 2am. They also came across a traffic accident and, being a doctor, Rod was requiredto help certify the dead etc... A ghastly end to a ghastly couple of days for them.

We finally got to Lima the evening of the day after the long walk back to civilisation.

We have since found out that after we were released, the bandits rushed off down the other side of the hill and dragged about 15 tourists from tents and took stuff from them over the course of about 90 minutes.
 
We went to the British Embassy in Lima and they took it quite seriously.  They have not been reports of such trouble in the region for a couple of years.  In fact the UK Foreign & Commenwealth Office have updated their travel advice as follows.
 
There have been reports of two armed hold-ups in the Huaraz area in early July. There occurred on the Huayhuash trekking circuit approximately six days travel from Huaraz. Six British nationals were involved in one incident. You should exercise caution when travelling along this route and check with your guide/organisers before setting out.

Sadly a trip to the Embassy wasn`t quite as I`d been led to believe from watching too many James Bond films.  The Deputy Head of Mission even has to make his own coffee.  I first asked for a tea, that seemed more British somehow, but was going to be more hassle than just an instant coffee.  The odd picture of HM ERII dotted around, but far from lavish surroundings, just like any office really, with extreme security.
 
And that is the tale of our kidnapping. We are both entirely unhurt, as are the other 4 Brits. Pretty shaken by the whole thing, but things are getting back to normal now. The trip goes on, and this whole episode will just become a pub anecdote.
 
Bet your glad you`re stuck at a desk reading this rather than living it!

Touching the Void

Location: Lima, Peru

Some notes on our trek in the Andes.

Almost immediately after our trip to Chavin, we set off on our Andean adventure. For those of you that haven´t either read the book by Joe Simpson, or seen the Bafta award-winning film, Touching the Void then I suggest you do so. Even for people with no interest in mountaineering, it is a gripping tale of human endurance in the face of enourmous adversity. And it all takes place in the mountains where we have just been.

After a 5am bus from Huaraz, we had to change in some small village after a few hours. A bloke was working on the reaer right wheels, I think he was changing them round. After nearly 90mins of hanging around we were off again. About a further 90mins into the trip, in the middle of nowehere, disaster struck. The wheels literally fell off the bus. The bolts on both rear right wheels had sheared off, and with a clunk, the outer wheel went first. Luckily we were going uphill, slowly round a hairpin, at the time.

So we´re stuck in a valley, about 40min drive from our destination. The driver of the bus heads off to get help, and the rest of us can only wait. About 2 hours later he was back with a minibus. The original plan was to load on all the heavy bags, provisions, food, gas etc, so that we could at least start walking with the daypacks we each had. Unfortunately, about 3 Israelis decided they must get on the bus, meaning that there was not wnough room for all the kit. So all the rest of us (about 15) had to wait for the bus to return. It must be a burden being God´s chosen children at times, though with the knowledge that you are more important than everyone else it certainly helps make their time in this life a bit easier.

So we get to Llamac, a small village, about 4 hours after we had planned to. There´s not enough time to get to the intended place to camp, so we walk for just 3 hours, up from 3,200m to about 4,100m.

The daily routine is broadly: 1 pass per day, normally 6 hours walking, though the second day we were trying to make up lost time and did about 7.5 hours with only avery short stop for lunch. Usually we camp about 4,000m, sometimes a bit above or below this. The passes were normally above 4,600m, with the highest at 4,900m. Although we didn´t have problems of altitude sickness (headaches, nausea etc) we did have a few problems just due to the lack of air. It is sometimes very slow progress up the final few hundred metres, and this is where it is steepest and the path can be rocky and narrow etc.

Day 2, the long day, involved a climb of about 1,000m that was very draining.

But the scnenery is stunning. People say that this route is second to a trek in Nepal, and those of you who have trekked in Nepal can perhaps agree on this. Sadly the weather was unseasonably poor, it is supposed to never rain this time of year, be clear blue skies, perfect views of the mountain peaks. We had cloud most days, some hail and some snow.

The scale of the mountains is hard to express in words. Even without the postcard weather we had some stunning views, which make the effort worthwhile. Huge, sheer cliff faces. Snowy caps peeking through the tops of the clouds. Long valleys, with ribbons of water flowing off to the distance. Glaciers slowly griding down mountainsides.

Every now and then it´s possible to hear a lound groaning and rumbling sound. Occasionally this was my guts, since we were not being fed the most generous portions. But more often this was the sound of huge chunks of ice splitting from the body of the glacier. Then there is the noise of all the ice tumbling, often hundreds of metres. Appearing very similar to a waterfall, but of snow and ice. Awesome at night when huddled in a tent and the surroundings are very quiet.

We saw condors circling. We saw some odd little villages in the middle of nowhere, and wondered how they survive. We chatted to one local woman, who told us that she was 2 hours by horse from supplies. They have a lot of trout in the lakes, and cows, but little in the way of vegetables. She was very keen to flog us some fish and chips! But we declined. 10 minutes later someone was keen to sell us a beer, but after a day´s walking and still at over 4,000m that was also probably a bad idea.

The other memorable thing about day 2 is that the only water supply available tasted of cow pats, and although the water purification tablest no doubt removed the nasties, it couldn´t take away the taste! Uuurrgh.

Generally the provision of kit was OK, we have nothing of our own for camping, it´s not worth lugging it around the whole world for the odd trek. But, as mentioned before, the rations were really not enough. It´s extremely cold at night, often there would be ice on the tent in the morning. With second rate sleeping bags and mats, even with all my clothes on, hat and gloves, it was still chilly. This means that a lot of energy goes on just keeping warm. And with a big climb every day I think I was in a bit of a calorie debt. In fact at one point I had a dream that I looked in a mirror and saw a very skinny, concentration camp reflection. I think my sub-concious was aware of the food problem!

All the slogging up steep hills also raised the same question that Phillippa and I argues about when we were training for the marathon. Is it an advantage to have legs about 10% longer? Yes probably, but is this outweighed by the problem of being about 75% heavier? Almost certainly! If there are any specialists in bio-mechanics who can resolve this then please email me. The obvious and easiest answer seems to be found if we turn to evolution, most apt having recently been to Galapagos. All the Andea races are small and, in the main lightly built. Indeed, all successful marathon runners are small and very lightly built. Suggesting that perhaps that, over the years, the lanky and heavy Andean folk didn´t win the genetic race for survival.

I think I commented on their tiny buses in another post. But there was one hotel, where the staircase ceiling was so low it was like being in a scene in Being John Malkovich.

There is more to the Andean trek, as some of you already know, and the final instalment will appear here soon....

Keep checking back for updates.

Reflections on Ecuador, and Chav culture

Location: Huaráz, the Andes, Northern Peru

Thoughts on Ecuador, contrasts with Peru and the rise and fall of Chav culture.

After about 6 weeks in Ecuador, I have to say that it´s a fascinating country with much more on offer than most people realise. The well trodden path in South America involves Peru and Chile, (and more recently Argentina, with their financial crisis). But there is a wealth of diverse opportunities in Ecuador. Obviously the Galapagos islands are the country´s most revered tourist site. But the countryside is amazing: from the jungle to the highlands, mountains, volcanoes... ... It´s a shame for the people that they don´t have the same level of exposure or recognition as other Latin countries, in particular Peru and Chile. A trip to the Galapagos is clearly unique, however anyone coming to Ecuador for that alone would be missing out on other opportunities.

Everywhere in the highlands the mountains bear scars of landslides. We passed about 10 that would have each closed a road in 30 minutes on one journey, and on the way south from Cuenca to Loja there was one that would have originally covered about 150m of road. The scale of the vistas is awe inspiring, the distancers across valleys is huge. Sometimes it is hard to remember that we´re at >3,000m when the surrounding hills look more like hills than mountains, with agriculture, villages etc, and not jagged snow-capped peaks.

The people have been friendly throughout, though as one of my teachers said, people want to help and would rather tell you fictitious directions than tell you they didn´t know the answer! Friendly, but not always useful! The various indigenous groups still retain a lot of the identity that you can see on postcards, and their dress is not just for tourist appearances in markets, but an everyday occurance. There have been some great photo opportunities that I´ve had to let slip past, since apparently Andean people are not normally happy about be snapped, which is a great shame. Some interesting markets scenes have had to be missed to, it´s difficult to take photos surreptitiously, and I don´t wish to offend the locals.

Now having got to Peru, there are differences that are readily discernible. The infrastrucutre seems of slightly better quality here. The buses are better (marginally), though it still feels a bit like I´ve arrived in Lilliput. The local transport tends to be small mini-buses, or VW camper vans, crammed with seats so close together that the distance between them is a good few inches less than the length of my femur. But generally the longer trips have not been quite a cramped as I had feared they might. We´ve had the pleasure (?) of a few films to entertain us, usually with the radio on too to enhance the experience.

The towns seem busier, frenetic almost. Our first evening in Peru, in Chiclayo, the town was like the West End on a Saturday night, and this was mid-week without one of the many festivals that occur. It may be a slightly richer country, or may be a difference in diets, but people here are a lot tubbier than their counterparts in Ecuador. We´re struggling to find meals that don´t come with chips, and fried chicken appears to be the national dish.

Chav Culture
Chav culture is on the rise in the UK, as mentioned in the Sunday Times and discussed at length with the Quintons (when there were but 2 of them) and the Claytons at a dinner party!

However, Chavin, near to Huaraz, is the original home of Chav culture. Circa 1200-200 BC, it is one of the earliest civilisations in the Andes. Sadly not a lot is left of the site, but it is well worth the 3 hour trip. They had extensive underground drainage systems, and had even diverted a river to create more space for the town. Few monuments are intact, and the original pyramid is in a bad way. There were 203 heads, carved in stone and similar to gargoyles found on Gothic churches, around the 4 sides of the main temple. Today just one remains in situ, with others in various museums. It must have been an impressive, imposing and slightly threatening sight for vistors.

Given the popularity of tracksuits for school uniforms here, perhaps Chav or Scally culture is making a comeback near to its ancestral home, here in the Andes.

The Kraken Wakes

Location: Trujillo, Northern Peru

Concerning UFOs and lots of fireworks, plus a border crossing, pre-Inca civilisations and another disappointment.

Whilst we were in Cuenca (southern Ecuador) we saw some UFOs. Too slow to be planes, also they had a path that was not straight enough. Too orangey-red to be stars, and the movement also meant the lights were not celestial. Not satellites. In fact watching 4 orange lights move in an almost random way would almost be enough to convince a rational person that something odd was afoot. It was very reminscent of the opening part of Wyndham`s "The Kraken Wakes", hence the title here. So truely they were Unidentified Flying Objects.

Had this been Smalltown in the southern US, they´d already be planning a documentary on it. But more of that later.

Friday June 18 was some kind of big festival here. It seemed to involve lots of fireworks. Lots and lots of fireworks. Ecuador doesn`t have the same approach to health and safety as Europe. So there were lots of rockets being let off from the pavement by the main square. You just had to be aware when they were being lit, which was about every 45 seconds, meaning careful timing to walk past. From inside the town hall a bloke carrying a large paper-mache bull, complete with horns appeared.

He then ran around, through the large crowds. And the bull had a fuse on it, so would sporadically set off fireworks, some in the air and some into the crowd. Some were fizzling away on the floor as people leapt about to avoid them. Then, for his finalé the horns started to emit a thick flow of sparks, and with glee he showered the crowds. This part we watched from a safe distance!

There were also 4 large scaffold towers with numerous catherine wheels and rockets attached. These were lit at intervals, again (of course) in the middle of the crowd. When I say the middle of the crowd I don`t really mean right in the middle, with just one metre clearance. Generally the distance was about 5 metres, which is probably not much less than that recommended by whichever part of Brussels bureacracy deals with such H&S matters.

This festival also seemed to involve eating lots of sweets, at least it did for us. Lots of stalls by the main square, all with a huge array of fudges, cakes, sweets etc and it was too much to refuse. In fact one of us even decided to forgo a proper meal and just concentrate on stuffing sugar down!

As for the UFOs, well there were tissue paper lanterns with a small fuel supply hanging below, creating mini hot-air ballons. Most were 1m across, but some were the size of a small car. We saw them in the sky the night before actually finding out what they were, but you won`t be surprised to know that I didn`t become a convert to the sort of theories you may get on The X-files in the interim.

The newspapers here have had a story saying that Charles has married Camilla, but the BBC website doesn´t seem to show anything of the kind. It seems unlikely to be a scoop of the century for a Peruvian tabloid.

We are now in Peru, a long trip to Chiclayo, with an uneventful border crossing. From Chiclayo we visited two important pre-Inca sites, one at Sípan and the other at Túcume. Sípan is a site of the Moche culture, and Túcume is from the Lambayeque people. The sites themselves are not overwhemingly impressive, but at Sípan they have found a number of important tombs. And, critically, they were not subject to looting prior to excavations starting in the early 1990s. The artefacts are now in a museum, and are amazing. Gold jewellry, ceramics, sacrificies buried with the main body. The pyramids themselves are made from adobe bricks, and are reasonably complete. However, they don´t look like pyramids, but large mounds of mud. But on closer inspection you can see the original bricks in places.

After travelling down to Trujillo, where we currently are, we´ve been to see the temples of the Sun and Moon, mislabelled since the Moche people didn´t worship the Sun. The Incas did, but the pre-Inca cultures, especially those on the coast where it is sunny every day, didn´t. Estimates suggest that the temple of the Sun, the larger of the two, was made of c. 150,000,000 mud bricks, and it is a massive structure. In the temple of the Moon they have uncovered painted frescoes still showing original colours. (NB these are not my photos!) The temple was rebuilt on top of the previous one every 100 years, so there are about 6 or 7 main structures, on top of each other. The outer structures have protected the inner ones.

We´ve also been to Chan Chan, a massive complex just outside of Trujillo. There´s not much left, due to erosion over the years. But the scale of the city is very impressive. One of the palaces has been partally reconstructed, which is slightly odd: if gives a better idea of how it may have been, but it´s not original.

Some people say that Northern Peru is the Egypt of South America, and so much of it has only been investigated recently. No doubt there is much more that lays undiscovered. Those of you who have been to Egypt will have to come here to validate that claim.

Unfortunately we have missed Jon & Morag, we took slightly longer than anticipated to get to Northern Peru, and they flew up to Quito slightly earlier than expected. Shame we couldn´t meet for a beer with them, given they left the UK in spring 2003. Hopefully their Galapagos trip will not be disrupted by protesting fisherman.

The disappointment is, of course, the result against Portugal. We did watch it, all bar the first 4 minutes. At least we are insulated from the media hype. And I´d be lying if I didn´t say that the result of the second QF lifted our spirits slightly! Hello to all my French ex-colleagues at SG.

;-)

More football. After the Ecuador v Columbia match we now may try for tickets to the Copa America, the South American equivalent of Euro2004, taking place here in Peru. Not sure we´ll be in the right places at the right time for the matches, but, of course, match reports here if we do go!

School´s out for summer

Location: Cuenca, southern Ecuador

Concerning tarantulas, venomous snakes, toucans, macaws, tapirs, capybaras, caimans, landslides, active volcanies, Inca ruins and a book review.

Following from the last entry entitled "Gooooaaaaaal Ecuador" I had planned to title this with "Goooooaaaaal Lampard". However, the plans changed, literally, at the last minute.

In the last two weeks we have had our final week of Spanish lessons and are now on our own. Many thanks to all the staff at La Lengua, but in particular to Nacho, who acompanied us the jungle near Coca for our final week, and Paul who we both spent a lot of time with.

Jungle trip to Coca
After out trip to Mindo, we got back and wrote up the previous week. We were due to leave that night at 9pm on a 12 hour bus journey. However, once at the bus station it became clear that due to landslides and some protests and roadblocks by indigenous people no buses had run that day and none would run the following night or day. So Monday morning we decided to fly, with a 40 minute short hop replacing a long overnight session of sleep deprivation. More pricey, but the only real option, and we didn{t want to stay in Quito any longer.

In the jungle, we were an hour up the Rio Napo from Coca, at Yarina Lodge, the Napo is the largest tributary of the Amazon. Every day there were excursions, often day and night. Sadly we never saw a large tarantula near to the Lodge, or our cabaña. We did see a baby one, (approx. 8cm across, including legs). We also saw a venomous coral snake, not far from where it was suggested we may like to have a dip in the river. We didn´t see any piranhas, unfortunately we didn´t go fishing for them as some people did. It was too steamy whilst we were there, but the last day and a half the sun was fierce and the humidity was up.

Nearby is a protected area, where animals are rehabilitated. I was here that we saw both a tapir and a capybara. They are not truely wild, and are partially domesticated, but to see a rat the size of a big dog was still interesting. On an evening paddle in a canoe, we saw some caimans, which are similar to small aligators, only about 1m long.

Eraly one morning we were up a 40ft tower above the canopy of the forest, birdwatching. Not something I´d usually be that interested in, being a twitcher, but here when you can see spectacularly coloured parrots and toucans it´s a bit different from sparrows and finches.

The place we stayed was very relaxing, and we´d recomend it, however, further up the river is supposed to be better and compared to other people there we were lucky with what we saw.

The jungle wasn´t as teeming with wildlife in the way that Uncle Tan´s in Borneo was, but just walking through dense, lush green, and invariably very wet, surroundings was interesting. And whereas the mozzies in Borneo were like toy helicopters, these were a little less aggressive and a little less itchy!

Then time for a long bus trip back, not back to Quito, but to Baños, a spa town, in the same vein as Royal Tunbridge Wells, but without the underage drinkers with cans of Stella in the main shopping areas. 11 hours bouncing along an unpaved road, with stunning scenery, and we knew we made the right choice to go by day and not by night. Sleeping on buses designed for locals is a problem at the best of times, but when there is no road it would have been impossible. Apparently it is equally "safe" day or night, though the drivers tend to work long hours, and aside from a breakfast stop just after we set out, we kept running straight through the day.

Baños is pleasant place in the shadow of an active volcano. A few years ago the town was evacuated, and although it is still classed as active there´s not rivers of lava heading towards the town square. We didn´t actually manage to see the volcano, Tungarahua, due to cloud. The place we stayed has steam baths, so we indulged there and missed the public ones in town.

After a 4hr walk in ther morning, on to ropey mountain bikes for a 16km cycle along a "route of waterfalls". Pickup truck back though!

Devil´s Nose Train
The 7.01am from Riobamba was certainly more diverting that the equivalent from Commuterville to Waterloo. Sitting on the roof, along what is supposed to be the most difficult train line in the world. 2 V-switchbacks, where you have to reverse out to continue going downhill, and some big sheer drops, luckily the side we were on. Due to the early start, and 3,000m altitude it was certainly very nippy for the first 2 hours. A bit like being on the first ski lift, before the sun has peaked out over the mountains, with a stiff breeze. But in this case it was for 2 hours, with no intermittent exercise to get the blood flowing. After about 4 hours we came to the most impressive part, although the views of the surrounding hills (or are they mountains?) was awesome throughout. Well worth doing.

Inca Ruins at Ingapirca
Earlier today, before the bus to Cuenca, we started out early on a 16km walk to Ecuador´s most important Inca site. It should have been 16km, but we had to walk from town and then took the wrong road, so it was about 20km in the end. All at about 3,000m and there was a lot of up and down! Worth the trip though. The main building is an elliptical shape, reflecting their knowledge of the earth´s orbit. There are some problems with the excavation, due to bureaucracy, but what they have uncovered is a good introduction for us to Inca sites.

As for the book review, the first of the long novels is now finished, Don Quixote. A tad repetative at times, though midly amusing throughout. A tale of a very mediocre bloke suffering from self-delusion on a scale never seen nowadays outside of London´s Square Mile.

Currently wondering why I didn´t think to pack a birthday card for Phillippa, oh well, we´ll see what Saturday 19 brings!