Slimer Dude in South America

Mission Accomplished

2010-05-12T00:31:00.003Z

Well, I guess it's about time I mentioned that my blogging did not just finish on the 2nd June but it continued all the way to the 4th July!

Yep - I successfully blogged every day of my live until I got back to the UK for over 6 (that's -S-I-X-) months! It can be found in all it's completed glory here:

Slimer's Adventures in South America:
http://www.alienfactory.co.uk/blogspot/

Re-posting the blog allowed me to review the content, correct the grammar and spelling, add more photographs, give a printable stylesheet (try a Print Preview on the site), add better menu navigation and generally tart it up some. But you can read all about that when you visit the site!

So... so long, all the best, thanks for all the fish, but most of all remember to...

Have fun,

Steve.

Update

2007-06-23T23:23:00.000Z

News in brief...

Climbed Machi Picchu & Waynupicchu & the Temple of the Moon.
Went White Water Rafting for 3 days, class 3 & 4.
Toothpaste ran out.
Bought a ticket back to the UK (hoping to arrive on 5th July but with 4 flights over 2 days, who knows!).
Determined that party life in Cusco, Peru is bad for ones health.
Am going on a 2 week White Water Rafting Expedition in the Cotahuasi canyon. 100 miles of continuous Grade 4 with a couple of Grade 5 plus thrown in for good measure.
So no contact for 2 weeks!

See you all soon!

Steve.

1 Jun - Top Bar

2007-06-01T19:53:00.000Z

I wake up still wheezing and snotty and my muscles feeling like I'd just attempted a Everest summit. I'm not getting any better and leave for the Machu Picchu trek tomorrow. Time for re-enforcements, time for anti-biotics! I break out the Amoxycillin kindly donated to me from Eug. Then it's to the Bolivian Saltenas place for brekkie and a x3 treat!

Back to the Top Coffee Bar for more journal writing and more top coffee! I note that the waitress brings "everything" over to your table on a tray, hoisted high. Even if it's just a single item, like a bottle of beer. At first I thought it was a little silly and over the top but then I noted that her little strut over in short skirt and high heels also looked rather sexy! Hmm... So for the benefit of the reader I decided to stay a little longer and order more stuff. As the time ran into early evening the volume rose and they projected a Robbie Williams music DVD onto the wall in front.

And then I saw it, hanging off the wall, beaming its tantalising ray of hope right at me... a bar mat for Old Speckled Hen! Woah! And next to it bar mats for Abbot Ale and Greene King IPA! I immediately call the waitress over. Just think, real English Ale, here in Cusco! Boy, it's been sooooo long! In my bestest Spanglish I enquire about the Old Speckled Hen. She understands nothing but brings me a beer menu instead. All 3 beers are available in bottle and cans. Stuffing the Spanglish, I just point at the bottle of Old Speckled Hen on the menu, my Spanish sucks anyway. She walks away but struts back empty handed. "No tengo Old Speckled Hen." Bollocks. My hopes dashed, my heart broken. I reason to myself that Abbot Ale is not a bad brew. She walks away again but again struts back empty handed. As saucy as she is, she's trying my patience. "Tengo solo Greene King IPA en lata." Bollocks. Greene King IPA is a sorry excuse for a beer at the best of times, but in a can, literally transported half way around the world... No Thanks. I plum for a local fresh Cusquena malt beer instead. I enjoy the beer. I reason the antibiotics are working and I'm getting better.

I eat at an overpriced Mexican tourist restaurant simply because Sean & Monika aren't around and I can! Back at the hospedaje I change rooms again. I have no idea why but it keeps Carlos the owner happy. I pack for the trek, pop more pills and have an early night.

31 May - Top Coffee

2007-05-31T19:30:00.000Z

I lie into 12:00, wheezing, snotty and with stiff muscles. I get up and head out for a Saltenas breakfast at the usual. The waitress knows me and my order; 2 x Saltenas and an Inca Cola. A busker comes in and starts playing. In the Gringo restaurants buskers come in and play traditional Adean music. I note that here in a local restaurant the busker plays The Beatles and other Gringo music I recognise!

I pay off the rest of my Salkantay trek at X-Treme, who came recommended by Sean & Monika as that's who they did their Machu Picchu trek with.

I go back to Top Coffee Bar. I never ventured in last time but I think Sean and Mark were correct, in the evenings it may well be more than a cafe. Again the waitress is decked out in a very short mini-skirt. I assume it's part of the uniform. On one wall it was larger than life posters of seductive strippers. In the middle of the venue it has a shiny aluminium stage / mini cat walk with seats around it. I write my journal over a coffee or two. It is indeed Top Coffee - the best I've had in Cusco! An espresso shot served in a tiny cup of hot milk. Hmmm...

Dinner was back at the Japanese restaurant. The food was mighty tasty once again although I did trap a couple of cockroaches under various cups and plates and waited for the waitress to clear up. The ensuing squeals as they wriggled free across the table told me she was not too amused! Bed for 22:30.

30 May - No More S & M

2007-05-30T19:12:00.000Z

I sleep in until 12:30. I'm ill. I've got a cold. Regardless I meet up with Sean & Monika and we watch Shrek 3 at Mythology. It's not that great. I think I only chuckled twice. Later I book my alternative trek to Machu Picchu for Saturday, the Salkantay 5 day trek. It's a day longer than the fully booked classic trek and is supposed to have more spectacular scenery. That means I've got 2 ½ days to get better and shun the cold.

It's Sean & Monika's last night in Cusco so after a few hours kip I meet them and Isabelle at their pad for 20:00. The suggested bars are either too expensive, too smoky or too far away, so instead we stay in, watch TV and share 1 bottle of wine between us all. But hey, I was really ill anyway and as the night wore on watching Magnolia I felt a sore throat encroach and grace my health. Bollocks. After being accused of being quiet all night we said our good byes and I headed home. Bed for 00:30.

A tribute to Sean & Monika, or as I refer to them, S & M:
1st man, "Do you practise S & M?"
2nd man, "Sure I do, my wife Sleeps and I Masturbate!"
Cheers Isi!

P.S. As an aside, I was also contacted by a best mate (Stephen Young) from Primary school on FaceBook!

29 May - Paragliding

2007-05-29T17:23:00.000Z

Up and at the plaza for 09:15. We're only being picked up at 09:30 but Sean wanted time to come and wake me if I wasn't there. My non-appearance at White Water Rafting still fresh in his head. Our main man, Richard, is a bit of a beardy hippie but knows his stuff. He seems to be the most experienced and the all knowing sage when it comes to Paragliding in Cusco. He's the one top super models fly with and the Army gets to do show piece fly-ins. One story he tells is that he lands in Plaza de Armas, as personally asked by the Commander in Chief of the Peruvian Army, and takes part in a grand military parade. He then gets arrested by the Police, whilst in the parade, for not having the correct paperwork for landing there! Like it's a common form you pick up at the post office! Luckily the Army bailed him out after just the one night in jail!

In the truck with Sean and I were 2 guys with their own gear. One was Swiss and the other, a bald headed egotist with a non-descript gringo accent called Matt. At the launch site, a short run up to a cliff, other paragliders and customers were all lining up. We watched as one launch went horribly wrong and the instructor and client almost got dragged haphazardly over the cliff. Richard shook his head asserting his authority on the field, "Well, that's what you get for paying 10 bucks less."

Richard and his helper laid out our canopy on the ground, "Right, the lightest and most hungover goes first." I raise my hand, still feeling worse for wear, "I guess that's me then!" "Relax, chill for a bit. We're not going yet." So we do and watch several Israeli girlies take off. Then after a seemingly indiscriminate amount of time, "Suit up, we're going!" Why now? I had no idea. Maybe the land warmed up a bit, or some clouds disappeared or the wind changed direction. What ever it was it seemed to work. The chute went straight up and so did we. A few minutes of circulating later and we were higher than the mountain we started half way up from!

Richard looks down, notes the other paragliders way below and remarks, "We sure smoked those other guys, eh!" There is no denying that we did. The ride was a smooth flight into the skies. With the whole of the Sacred Valley laid out before you, taking photographs was difficult for there was no focal point for the pictures. Just vast landscapes. But take many I did regardless.

We caught thermals and rose so high we had to spiral down to Earth to land. So much so we inverted the canopy! We landed with a bit of a thump but the helper was nearby to drive us back to the launch site where it was Sean's turn. He too went straight up but claimed to have more of a bumpy ride. He felt nauseous. Richard told him to say when he was going to throw up, for there's a special position he puts him in so he misses all the equipment! Paragliding, $80 for ½ hour. It's no adrenaline rush but it's good fun and the views are simply spectacular.

When we get back to town I'm still wasted so I head back to bed for a few hours. For some reason I had to change rooms first (if only I spoke Spanish!). Later I follow a treasure trail of notes (because I turn up late) to find Sean & Monika at a Japanese restaurant, Kintaro. The Triyaki chicken was fantastic! Back to bed for 23:00.

28 May - Bed

2007-05-28T23:26:00.000Z

I spend most of the day in bed and meet up with Sean for 21:30. We need to make phone calls for final arrangements for paragliding tomorrow. The calls are made and it's sorted, we're on! We then meet Chris and Monika for dessert at the Swiss restaurant. I say my farewells to Chris and head back to the Hospedaje. I'm still shattered an need sleep. Another guy, Stephan from Switzerland, had moved into my dorm room for the night. He's just about to go out. I recommend Mamma Africas and wish him luck.

27 May - Panic Attack

2007-05-27T22:56:00.000Z

I rise late. Surprise, surprise and meet Sean & Monika at the Plaza. They're not in a mood to do anything and in my hungover state, nor am I. So we watch a film in one of the clubs. We pick, "Thank You for Smoking" at X-trem. We were the only ones there and sat on sofas in front of the projector. It's like having your own personal cinema- which I guess it was! The film is great by the way, and well worth watching. One can learn a lot from it.

Later we have dinner at Cafe Ritual. I'm waiting for an invitation to dancing from Rudeba but as the evening progresses I resign myself to the idea that I'm being ignored. She's had a change of heart. Ack, oh well. Later we meet Isabelle at her Charity restaurant, drink giant Pisco Sours and play Jenga. I lost once during a freak incident at the start of a game. Chris and I join Isabelle and her mates as they head out. First to Up Town for a quick drink and then to Mythology. I'm not in the mood for dancing or drinking - I think I'm coming down with a cold. Though when the beat turns more techno I do manage a little jiggle on the dance floor.

It's Chris' last night in Cusco and he's dying to see his stripper. So once again I'm persuaded to discard my morals and take him to Casanovas. Only it's closed so instead we head to the local clubs on Calle Belen, where I was last night. We pick the "American Disco" which definitely isn't! It's very similar to the place I was at last night, a small dingy basement club with an over sized sound system and strobes going like the clappers. The place is dead and largely empty - even if you count the various comatose individuals passed out on tables. We resign ourselves that being Sunday night, every where's going to be similar. Using his deft skills in Espanol Chris gets chatting to a waitress. Not possessing any skills in Espanol I drink beer. Until that is, I become part of the conversation.

"What's your name?"
"Steve."
"How old are you?"
"27(!)"
"Are you married?"
"No."
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No"
"Why not? What's wrong with you?"
"Um..."

That last question sure stumped me for I didn't really know the answer myself. Several responses came to mind including comments about lying, deceitful, cheating, slutty ex-girlfriends but I plumbed for, "Because I'm stupid and ugly!" instead. Chris kindly translated that into, "Because he hasn't met the right woman yet."

Chris then motions to another waitress, "Do you like her?" "Yes!" I reply. She was slender, very attractive and I'd been watching her perform several amazing dances on the floor in between serving people. A few words were said between several people and in the next moment she's stood in front of me. "You can dance with her if you want." She was really pretty and obviously didn't speak any English. Any conversation was out of the question as my Spanish still sucks. To dance was the only option but I'd just seen her do amazing jives and ballroom dances, my funky chicken just didn't compare! And then a new song started playing, it was that crappy local Andean music. How can anyone dance to that? I stood there like a startled rabbit stuck in headlights. My heart pounded, I breathed heavily, I went light headed. I think they call it a panic attack. Then an irrational thought flashed through my mind, "It's all futile." I backed down, gave in and stammered, "Lo sento pero no gracias." (Sorry, but no thank you.) She walked away.

We soon left to visit the club I was at last night. It was also dead and Chris started to fall asleep on the table until an off duty Police officer advised us to leave for our own safety!? We called it a night, although I went to Mamma Africas for last orders at 04:30.

26 May - Local Girls for Local People

2007-05-26T21:12:00.000Z

I wake up and check the time. 11 O'clock. Bollocks. I've missed the White Water Rafting. Sean's not going to be too happy! I get up, spend 10 mins in a Internet Cafe, realise I'm really, really hungover and stagger back to bed! I go to my favourite Bolivian Saltenas place for breakfast. The place is cool, they only serve their home made and baked, there and then, Saltenas. As such when you walk in and sit down the waitress comes over and simply says, "Quantos?" (How many?) Today I get handed a note from a waitresses asking for my email address. When I enquire what for she only motions it's for a member of staff...? On leaving I had great difficulty in adding up my simple bill. My brain is mashed. I am really hungover.

I spend the afternoon wondering around the local quarter of town, window shopping for shoes and make a mental note of possible local night clubs in the area. I even find an "Everything for a pound" shop! I return to Cafe Ritual for 18:30 where I expect Sean, Monika & Chris to turn up, and order a large beer. They don't turn up so I'm forced to wrestle with the monster 1.1 litre bottle of beer on my own. But even in this severely weakened state, I Fear No Beer! The young waitress Rudeba takes an interest in me but doesn't speak any English. But her boss in the back room knows some words. What follows is an amusing conversation between 2 people by 3 people.

Rudeba: "How old are you?"
Steve: "27 (!) How are old are you?"
Rudeba: "19. (Blah, blah, Spanish, blah)"
Boss: "Bonitio?"
Rudeba: "Si, muy bonito!"
Boss: "Married."
Rudeba: "Are you married?"
Steve: "No, I'm not married."
Rudeba: "(Blah, blah, Spanish, blah)"
Boss: "Girlfriend."
Rudeba: "You have girlfriend?"
Steve: "No, I don't have a girlfriend."
Rudeba: "(Blah, blah, Spanish, blah)"
Boss: "Dancing."
Rudeba: "You want go dancing? Tonight? Me gusta Reggaton?"
Steve: "Yeah, would love to. Si, me gusta Reggaton." (I lie, I have no idea what Reggaton is!)
Rudeba: "Cool, here at 10:30."

I leave bemused. It seems I've just acquired a dance date with a 19 year old girl without speaking any Spanish!

I pop into a restaurant near my hostel for dinner and get talking to Matt, the Australian owner. Upstairs is a brand new Hospedaje (Bed 'n' Breakfast type thing), just furnished with views overlooking the Plaza. He introduces me to Carlos the owner and I look around. It seems cool, nice beds, same price per night (15 sols or £2.50) , it appears some what warmer (more roof) and isn't at the top of a huge flight of stairs like my current place! I plan to move in.

I return to Cafe Ritual at the designated time and make instant friends with Juan, the owner, as he's well into his computer. He writes music on it, downloads films and is learning Flash. "My computer is very strong!" he proudly tells me. I think he means "powerful", bless! Rudeba, my dance date has changed her mind, she needs to go home to eat instead but promises tomorrow. No problem as Juan has Gregory over, a skinny French bloke, and his girlfriend. I stay drinking with them after hours. Not wanting to out stay my welcome I leave at 01:30.

It's still early for Saturday night so I decide to go on a local mission. I figure I'll do a quiet crawl on my own of the local clubs and then make a proper night of it with Chris at a later date. Ha! More fool me! First of all I bring attention to myself just by being the only Gringo in the small basement club. As I enter everyone stops and stars at me. I stick out like a sore thumb, I get the feeling not many Gringos venture this deep into local territory. Then it took 3 bar workers and a 4th drunk who spoke a few words of English just to place an order of, "One beer please!" It wouldn't have been so embarrassing but the place only serves large bottles of beer and nothing else! My Spanish still sucks.

After 2 minutes of sitting quietly in the corner, the English speaking drunk staggers overs, very excited by my attendance and wanting to be my next best friend. Conversation quickly dries up once he's exhausted his 12 word vocabulary, but he's ever so proud of his wife, a waitress. So much so at one point I thought he was going to offer her to me for a free trial run! It's then the turn of a couple of girls to register their interest in me. I give up on the notion of keeping myself to myself for the evening and join them.

One speaks English (well, ish) and it's her 22nd Birthday. She's fairly wasted but not as much as her Brother who's passed out comatose on the table. Which is acceptable compared to the girl who's brought her baby out to the club! But it seemed quite happy cooing on the chair in the corner amidst the bass bins! Maybe it liked the traditional Adean folk and pan pipe music blasting out on the sound system complete with flashing lights and strobes! After spending time on the dance floor with the girls I found you can pick out a house beat to dance to. In fact, everyone there danced as if in a normal club and I must say the English speaking girl had some fantastic moves on her, despite being rather tipsy.

We then moved on and got a taxi to Las Vegas, a giant 2 story local club- think of it as the Ritzy of Cusco. By now my girl was quite visibly wasted and staggered about, much to the annoyance of a bloke she kept bumping into. Actually, to avoid him starting a fight with me, I had to forcibly sit her down! Back on the dance floor later she kept trying to kiss me, but not wanting to take advantage of her I kept side stepping to receive pecks on the cheek instead. I made my escape from the club when the girls took a little too long in the toilet. Bed for 05:30.

25 May - Pisac

2007-05-25T19:58:00.000Z

I met up with Sean & Monika at Jacks for brekkie where I met Chris, an Englishman they had been talking about for ages. They've been waiting for him to turn so I would have a drinking partner. It seems he got stuck in La Paz for 4 days whilst protests blocked all the roads to Peru. It involved several 12 hour bus trips that returned him back to La Paz!

Leaving Chris behind Sean, Monika & I catch a bus to Pisac - a huge Inca ruin site. Better than that, it was a warrior fortress! In Pisac we take a taxi to the top of the ruins - the idea being we explore them working our way down, rather than up! Not long after us, coach loads of day walking American tourists up - run! They're coming, they're coming! Head for the hills! So we did, off hte beaten track to the top of the fortress where Sean and I stripped off and acted like Inka Gods, commanding our puny troops below.

When Monika got bored of our little game she headed down, back the way we came. Sean & I climbed down to meet her only she took a wrong turn and ended up on a much lower trail that bypassed most of the cool ruins. Sean and I spent our time looking at the ruins and playing, "Where's Monika?" looking down at the paths below. It was a wicked scramble around, shame Monika missed it!

Walking into Pisac we had a good mooch around the market, a late lunch and picked up a couple of souvineers. We also shared a bottle of a popular local soft drink, bright yellow Inka Cola. I was to be the first of many. I am now addicted to the stuff. (But maybe not as much as Downsy is addicted to Coke!) In the evening we met up with Chris at Cafe Ritual for dinner. When Sean & Monika announced their early night Chris and I decided to continue drinks. Sean, acting all fatherly as he left, warned us, "No Coke 'n' Whores!" Especially as we'd booked ourselves in for a day of White Water Rafting tomorrow. "No Coke 'n' Whores!" shesh! Who does he think we are? Well, here's how most of the night went...

At the Kamikase pub bar we took advantage of a cheap Cubra Libra offer and left 4 large glasses later. Swiftly followed by a free Cubra Libra at the Up Town Club. When I told Chris it was full of Isralies he didn't understand that it's FULL of Isralies! So we left for Mamma Africas. A beer later he got fed up with Gringos so we left for Casanovas, a strip club with a 20 sol (£4) enterance fee. There I was treated to an hostess for the night, and boy, she had the cutest, most perfect body I've ever had the pleasure of um, yeah! (Face wasn't bad either!) I finally left at 04:30 and only realised how drunk I was when I tried to order a taxi back to the plaza with extremely slurred speech.

24 May - Sexy Woman

2007-05-24T20:49:00.000Z

The weather forecast on yahoo.com predicted rain. I think it's run by the BBC because it was blue skies and sunshine all round. To that end Sean, Monika and I decided to visit Sacsayhuamán (which everyone pronounces Sexy Woman!), some religious Inca ruins up the hill from my hostel. It's quite a cool place and some of the stone blocks are simply massive! The size of a portacabin, not only have they been dragged into place but they've been sanded down on all sides to slide perfectly in place amongst the other blocks. The superior Inca craftsmanship can not be denied.

And then I saw it. It was huge! The biggest & fluffiest dog I've ever seen! So big I just had to go get a photo to prove its dimensions!

I look up and Christ, it's Jesus! Yep, Cusco has it's own Christ the Redeemer too! So while Sean & Monika walked down the hill, I pegged it up another for a closer look at this spiritual entity. Well, what can I say about it? It's white, as made in 1945 and has giant freaky googly eyes!

Back in Cusco we succumbed to one of the many restaurant touts advertising a free drink with lunch. Free and a drink it may be but these perfectly formed Pisco Sours were served in shot glasses!

23 May - Take Off All Your Clothes

2007-05-23T19:37:00.000Z

A bit of a non-day so here's a bit about Cusco. The city is centered around the Plaza de Armas which in turn is centered on gringo tourists. Except for the 2 magnificent churches the plaza is completely surrounded by restaurants, cafes and tourist agencies on both the upper and lower levels. One corner is home to the gringo clubs. In an attempt to extract as much cash as possible from tourists the clubs are even open in the afternoon but with different slant. They are kitted out with projectors and DVD players and openly advertise (with flyers) and invite everyone in to watch the latest Cinema releases, downloaded fresh from the Internet - for free! They only mandate you buy a drink or something whilst you watch it. Being a club, obviously the sound system rocks! Wanting to give it a try Sean, Monika & I rock up and watch Apocolyto, a Mel Gibson film about the Mayan race, some pre-Inca tribe in the jungle. Knowing what I know about the jungle, it's quite authentic. The film is good but not great.

The plaza, being centred on gringos as it is, is also full of touts. Every minute you're harassed by people wanting to shoe shine your flip flops, sell you postcards, sweets, cigarettes, drag you into their restaurant, club or, as seems to be most popular, young girls wanting to give you a massage. Still thinking of Isabella I give in to a massage ('cos she often liked a massage see!). Though not certain of the authenticity and professionalism of the girls on offer I needed some Dutch courage before asking for one, 30 sols (£5) for 1 hour.

The girl I picked worked for "Inka Massage" and led me upstairs to a small room partition complete with mild candle lighting, electric heater, bed / stretcher table and soft music. She asked me to get ready and closed the partition. I took off my shoes and top and waited. On her return she laughed and shrieked, "No, todo ropa! Todo ropa! Take off all your clothes!" and promptly left again. Um, so I did and saved my modesty with one of the towels on the bed. On her return I was subjected to an all over body massage. An amateur compared to the surgical technician of Buenos Aires it must be said, but good none the less. There's something about an attractive young girl rubbing her oily hands all around your inner thighs that turns your thoughts to one thing, "Dead puppies, dead puppies, dead puppies..." About the only parts that were not massaged were the stomache, chest and pectorals. I'm not sure why that is. Lots of attention was placed on the calfs and legs which I assume would suit people fresh off the Inka trail. I left feeling, well, rather chilled!

Having been at altitude (say 2,500 m) for over a month and a half now (Cusco's at 3,400 m), I feel like I'm stuck in a perpetual winter. It never gets that warm during the day and it's always cold and chilly at night. It almost makes me wish I was back for summer in the UK!

I also must mention that, in general, Peruvian girls in Cusco are beautiful. Cusco has the highest concentration of gorgeous girls of any city I've ever been to. It's a visual feast. I have no desire to leave anytime soon!

22 May - Ollantaytambo

2007-05-22T18:41:00.000Z

Up to meet Sean & Monika in the plaza for 08:00. We're off to see some Inca ruins and we catch a taxi to the bus station for 3 sols (50p). Sean & Monika being good wholesome people got up early and had already had breakfast. I, on the other hand, having a stomach of steel grab cake and pastries from the bus station. I also grab a glass of what can only be described as hot milky apple sauce! Yummy! Sean & Monika wouldn't touch it because the glass gets washed in local water. Whatever! I put my new talent into effect on the bus and pass out, only to be woken by Sean when we reach a bus station and need to switch buses. How dare they disturb my much needed beauty sleep!

The village centre of Ollantaytambo, although still quaint looking, has succumbed to day trip tourism with plenty of cafes, restaurants and craft stalls. I get a feeling all the sights will be the same. It was nice that Sean & Monika, even though they've seen the mighty Machu Picchu, still had an interest in these lesser Inca ruins. The ruins mainly consisted of a series of large agricultural terraces rising up to more traditional housing ruins above.

After admiring the giant boulder bricks we head back to the village square for lunch. It takes a while (much to Monikas annoyance) as Sean is the look out for a cheap vegetarian restaurant with an inventive menu. As most gaffs just do meat 'n' rice, it's a tall order! We find somewhere that'll do, order a beer and some sandwiches and watch the waitress leave, only to return some 5 minutes later with a shopping bag of bread, beer and sandwich ingredients! Just In Time Shopping and Cooking! Sean & I had spotted more ruins of an old church looking thing up the side of the opposing mountain and drag Monika up with us for a closer look.

On the way home the first bus was the usual local packed minibus complete with indiscriminate breast feeding. The second was a more respectable coach. I was picking at my tasteless super size corn and cheese (bought for 2 sols from kids at the bus station) when the girl next to me blurts out the name of the mountain we're passing. Only when I turn to talk to her so I notice that I'm sitting next to a slim attractive, well to do, spectacle wearing Peruvian girl. Her English was good, conversation was only difficult due to my poor pronunciation. She often answered a completely different question to the one I asked! It turned out she's a member of a climbing club and had climbed (with ropes and all) most of the mountains in the area. Cool! She also taught primary school kids computers in the morning and was training to be a lawyer in the evening. Fearing her to be too good to be true Sean jumps in and tries to arrange a social meeting between us all as means of getting me a date. It's too good to be true. She's flying to Lima at the weekend to attend a climbing convention. Being one of the most experienced female climbers in the area the convention was even paying for her flight! Sigh.

21 May - Bloody Students!

2007-05-21T23:12:00.000Z

I struggle out of bed after a couple of hours sleep and meet Sean, Monika, Mark & Mindy at Jacks again for breakfast. They have porridge with apple sauce and cinnamon! We leave Mark & Mindy but promise to meet them in the afternoon as they're leaving Cusco in the evening. After sauntering back to Sean & Monika's place in Casa Grande we get side tracked by the TV, Tomb Raider is on! It's a must watch. For a multitude of reasons I think Sean and I appreciated it much more than Monika!

Back in Cusco we try to buy our Boleto Turistica del Cusco. For 10 days it gives you access to most of the popular tourist sites in and around Cusco including Inca ruins. Wicked. Sean & Monika both have fake ISIC cards and want the student discount. Only Sean is told he's too old for it, Monika is just old enough. Sean is out raged, he has a student card and he wants that discount! So Monika and I join Mark & Mindy for coffee while Sean wages his mission. He visits the central office and demands to see the manager in charge and the official documentation where it states only students under the age of 25 are eligible for the discount. He pretends to be Mindy in so far as he claims to have just finished his Masters in Marine Biology and is about to start a PhD in researching dolphin migration! The boy sticks to his guns and gets a signed letter from management allowing him to purchase a student ticket. We all reckon he's going to get bad karma as he's not a student anyway - it's a fake ISIC card! Besides we're more interested in the waitress at our Top Coffee Bar who's wearing a tight mini-skirt. Sean & Mark reckon the place turns into more than a cafe at night. I'm no so sure.

For dinner I head out for more Cuy (Guinna Pig) but this time I try a different place which promises to serve it whole. And whole it is! On a plate with a couple of roasties it comes complete with legs and head. By the look of it, I don't think it died a peaceful death! This one is plain grilled, has less meat, is mainly skin and bones, has the same distinctive taste but is less flavoursome. Still, it's a whole grilled Guinna Pig! I'm shattered. Need sleep. No clubs tonight. Bed for 23:00.

20 May - Cuy for You, Cuy for Me!

2007-05-20T22:38:00.000Z

I struggle out of bed and meet Sean, Monika, Mark and Mindy at Jacks for brekkie at 09:30. Everybody is here in Cusco! Heading out to the main Plaza we meet crowds and crowds of people. It's to be a huge day long parade celebrating the anniversary of Cusco's University. I think they had a group for each year of every department in the Uni! In the parade it seemed to be mainly the older generation in traditional dress but then there were younger girls and boys wandering around in suits and short skirts. Very tasty! As were the female medical students in nurse's uniforms! Hey! I can't help it, I'm a bloke. It's genetic!

It's a big meet up for dinner but Ana and I leave the crowd and their cheap vegetarian restaurant to sample something more authentic. It's Ana's last night in Cusco and we go to the up-market Inca Grill for Cuy. Or to you and me, Guinna Pig! This Peruvian delicacy comes slow grilled in rosemary and appeared on the plate quartered. Not knowing any better we ordered red wine to accompany it. Picking meat of the bones of such a small creature is no job for a knife and fork - time for sticky fingers! I would describe the taste as a cross between chicken and rabbit with a distinctive after taste. Ana described it as Guinna Fowl. The others found us as we were finishing up and we all went to a Swiss restaurant for dessert and coffee.

It may be Sunday night but Cusco's still kickin'! Ana and I leave everyone to their early nights and get talked into going to the Israeli Up Town Club by means of a free drink. So we grab a free large Cubra Libra each, chat on the balcony and leave! We're then talked into going to Extrem, also by means of a free drink! More Cubra Libras. Only this time we stay for a more as it's a cool venue and rather quiet. It closes and we move on to Mamma Africas where we stay until it closes too. The conversation turns to pulling again. Ana reckons I could have any girl in the club and I'm, um, not so sure. She certainly thinks more of me than I do! She sets me homework whereby I should attempt to pull / chat up some girls over the next week as a confidence booster. I'm, um, not so sure! She doesn't want to hear of the results. I don't think she has anything to worry about.

As we exit the club and enter daylight outside Ana is concerned about staying out all night and going home the next day. "Don't be silly!" I say, "The street lights are on. That means it's still night time." We both look up just in time to watch the street lights flicker off. Doh! Ana may have to leave the hostel by 10:30 to get a taxi to the airport but I have to meet Sean & Monika for breakfast at 09:30! Bed for 06:30.

19 May - How to Pull

2007-05-19T21:36:00.000Z

I get up at around 10:00 make myself look presentable and go knock on the girlie's door. I was completely unprepared for the onslaught of hugs and welcome kisses I received. Ana, Isabelle and Monika all nearly bowled me over! In my shock, a feeble, "Good morning!" is about all I could muster in response. It's good to feel wanted! Ana in particular had been awaiting my arrival last night, eager to go clubbing but ended up having an early night instead.

Whilst the others go about their daily chores Ana takes me on a tour of Cusco. More quaint cobbled streets, only this time they're full of market stalls selling everything from socks to circuit boards and soups to decaying donkey heads!

We decide on dinner at Cusco's only Indian, Maikhana, it pleases the veggies Sean & Monika and Ana, well, she's Indian! Myself, Ana & Isabelle arrive ½ hour late (we got talking to another couple from la Paz in the hostel) to find the curry house in the dark and Sean in not such a bad mood as we expected. Mainly because the power has gone out in the building and he'd been helping the electrician find the cause. All the lights and most of the appliances in the restaurant were dead but the rest of the building was unaffected. You would imagine a fuse or an isolator switch had blown but this is South America, things aren't that simple! Most of the food is cooked on gas we can still order. It's another candle light dinner with Stevie! They have no madras so it's a Chicken Chillie for me. It's as tame as but the extra hot sauce they bring over kicks ass! Fearing no chillie Ana dives in and soon regrets it. Sean and I are more cautious. After dinner, we leave just as power is restored. The electrician had just cobbled an extension lead into the dead fuse box - very dodgy. I was glad I was leaving, I could see it all going up in flames!

We go to the Up Town Club where Isabelle is delighted they're playing Salsa music. She gives me a go but I'm too sober, too stiff and can't get into the music. Sorry Isabelle! Next time, I swear, I'll be better! The place turns into a night club and fills up with Israelis so we leave. I drag Ana and Isa to Ukutus, where I was last night. We see the end performance of an African band, the girls love it. I rule! Isa and I leave Ana dancing to start a game of pool in the chill out room. It's a large, well worn, American pool table with one ball missing, bent cues, no chalk and small pockets. I was able to sink a couple of balls but after a slow shot where the ball visably wobbled and snaked along the table we handed it back over to the locals and grabbed Ana.

Most of the night was spent talking about pulling. Apparently, one of the (many) reasons I'm so lousy at it is because I usually only head out with female friends - it gives off the wrong vibe as it looks as if I've already pulled. A handy tip but not having any single male mates to go out with I'm not too sure what I can do about it?

Sometime after 02:00 I walk the girls back to the hostel. "Aren't you coming in?" they ask as I stand out in the cold. "No! I'm in Cusco, it's Saturday night and the bars and clubs are still open!" With that Ana suddenly gets a second wind, "Well said! Mind if I join you?" We try a local bar which, as it transpires, doesn't sell any beer!? Instead they have a local brew sold in bottles made from palm leaves. You buy a bottle and they mix it in a jug with a bit of lemonade. It reminds me of a strong tasting Pimms. Not bad. We then move on to Mamma Africas, a gringo club, where a couple of local girls were besotted with Ana's Indian appearance. I felt quite left out! Bed for 04:30.

18 May - Cusco, Peru

2007-05-18T03:43:00.000Z

I walk into town to buy more Paracetamol, I used up all my supplies yesterday on my coldy headache. I also buy a bus ticket to Cusco, Peru for 80 Bs. It leaves at 13:30. Copacabana is famous for its Inca ruins, both on and off the Isla de Sol but ½ day doesn't do it justice. And yesterday's Police escape proved I need to exit Bolivia today. I decide to visit it on my next trip round South America. As the days roll on I'm more and more convinced that there will be another trip.

I board my tourist bus, it's full. 10 minutes and we're at the border. I join the queue for the Bolivian exit stamps, it moves quite quickly until it gets to me. Passport, flip, stamp. Passport, flip, stamp. My passport, flip, hesitate, hesitate, hesitate. He stares blankly at my passport, stamp in hand hovering above it. I can the see the mental arithmetic adding up in his head, counting the days. Then finally, ka-chunk, it's stamped. Phew! I'm through. The Peruvian stamp was easier to obtain. As I was tipped by Ana I convert all my Bolivian groats into Peruvian solars (at a rate of 2.6).

At the Puno bus station I'm kicked off the tourist bus and given a local bus ticket to Cusco. What a rip off! And then the bus is some 45 minutes late. I wouldn't normally mind but I'd only just found out that from Puno to Cusco is some 7 hours! Doh! A couple of Brits sit behind me (also from Copacabana) and one of them sounded exactly like that Colin Bird that Timbo's marrying!

Arriving at Cusco I whip out the name of the hostel that Ana and Isabelle are staying at. Unfortunately the detailed address consists of, "Uphill from the plaza". Great. I try it out on the taxi driver anyway. "Hostel Resbalosa, yeah, up the hill from Plaza de Armes, I know it!" he says in Spanish. Result! Although he charges me 14 sols, I later find out it should have been 4. Oh well. I check myself into a coffin sized single room for 20 sols pn (£3) and told I can change into a dorm tomorrow for 15 sols pn (£2.50).

It's 00:30 am and as I slept on the bus, I'm feeling a little perky. Plus it's Friday night, I'm in Cusco and decide it's time for a quiet beer. Cusco is full of little cobbled streets and passage ways and they all look fantastic lit up in the streetlight. It's also a lively place with plenty of clubs around the main Plaza. All the would be quiet bars are closed so I try a more local bar called Ukutus. It plays great music and has a mix of locals and a few gringos. I stay for a few beers and head back.

The same lad answers the doorbell as last time. I ask for my key, assuming it's kept behind the desk as he didn't give me one when I checked in. He says he doesn't have it. Very funny. I ask again. He doesn't have one. Not amused I ask in my best Spanglish what I'm supposed to do until the morning! (Well, drink beer did enter my head I must admit!) He stares at me for a few minutes but I don't disappear. So he decides to wake up the owner and taps on his window. The old gentleman appears with my key. I apologise and thank him. To my surprise he smiles and slaps me on my back, "No problem!" Cool. Bed for 03:00.

17 May - Copacabana, Lake Titicaca

2007-05-17T18:35:00.000Z

I'm booked on a tourist bus to Copacabana, the last town in Bolivia before Peru, situated on Lake Titicaca. It's to pick me up from the hostel at 07:30. A boy enters to direct us waiting few outside to the busy road with our bags. The bus is late and we bundle our bags and ourselves into porches, recesses and enclaves. After ½ hour the bus slowly filters down the street with the rest of the traffic. It doesn't stop. Instead the baggage hold and front doors open automatically. We haul our back packs into the hold and clamber onto the moving vehicle. Cool! The girls didn't think so.

We travel in my luxurious tourist coach until we reach Lake Titicaca. After a short speech in Spanish by the driver everyone jumps off. Not knowing what's going on I follow everyone else and join a queue by the square. There are some 8 to 10 rough looking dogs playing about making everyone feel nervous. Then 3 of them break out into a fight. Girls squeal and back away. Not to be out done, another mean looking 3 start fighting next to the queue. This time even the blokes back away. I stand my ground figuring the dogs aren't interested in humans. The next thing I know, I *am* the queue! Everyone had scattered! So I step up to the window counter and ask for "one"! If only I knew what "one" I was buying! Then I spot my bus driving on the lake. I look again, nope. It's on a very low wooden barge being floated across. I then realise I'd just bought a passenger ticket to get myself across. Cool.

The crossing was a lot more choppy than I expected and I wondered how may buses and coaches had been lost on the crossing. Money spinning idea :: Set up suba diving expeditions to the tour the wreaks!

On landing on the other side I'm singled out by a Policeman who asks for my passport. Hearing a lot about bogus Policemen working alone in phony uniforms scamming tourists I tell him it's on the bus (as oppose to my right zipped trouser pocket). We'll see how much he really wants it! He turns to his Police partner standing next to the mini Police station and says he's going to the bus. Bugger. I never saw any of that! So we walk to where the buses land and it drives straight past us, back to where we came from. My Police buddy gets annoyed an keeps demanding my passport. I'm adamant it's on the bus so we start walking back. I calm him down a little by handing him a passport photocopy from my wallet but he still wants the original.

At the bus I climb on, fath about a little by my seat and take my passport out of my trouser pocket. By this time the hordes of tourists are piling back onto the bus making it impossible for me to get off. I can hear the grumpy Policeman shouting for me. "I'm coming!" I hop off and proudly present my passport. He flips through it, stares at my Bolivian stamp, screams "30 diaz!" and drags me off to the Police station with a walk that suggests, "I have you now!" I leap back to the bus and tell the driver not to leave with my bags. Better than that he accompanies me back to the station. The Policeman shouts at me incessantly, he thinks I've out stayed my welcome and my 30 day Visa has run out. He can't count. I protest in my best Spanglish, "Si, 30 diaz, I salidar manana!" The driver converts it into Spanish and throws in some dates to boot. The Policeman is forced to back down. I have 1 day left. The fact cannot be denied. Not happy in the slightest he lets me go. I thank the driver. Phew!

Arriving in Copacabana for lunch I realise I've caught a cold from the mountain. I look forward to cosying up in a warm bed for the night. I walk up the hill to Hostel Culpa. This place is recommended by my Travel Book and as I've not stayed anywhere mentioned in my book yet, I'm keen to try it out. They're booked up. Only a family suite left which he'll give me for $20 US. My head is pounding with a massive headache, I'm carrying large bags and I feel ill. I figure £10 isn't going to break the bank so I take it. Only the room needs cleaning before I can use it. So I drop by bags off and head into town for dinner. On my return some 3 hours later I startle some cute puppies and am attacked by the midget mother. I arrive at my room with it attached to my right boot. Sigh. I enter and notice a personal stuff scattered all around, clothes, food and toiletries. I return to reception. Unable to explain I drag someone back to the room. He understands. Between the 6 people at reception no-one knows whats going on so I have to wait ½ for the original (and English speaking) receptionist to turn up. It turns out to be a simple mistake, I'm next door. Room number 18, not 19!

The room is a beautifully designed, one of a kind, 2 story maisonette with a mini kitchen, stone bathroom and real hot water! The front wall is a giant window giving amazing views of Lake Titicaca below. Woah! I thought I had lucked in, or so I thought until I saw the Hot Water Bottles and the calender. It then struck me that no place I'd stayed at in Bolivia ever had any kind of heating of any kind. Here was no exception, hence the Hot Water Bottles. Worse still, next month on the calender was marked a festival to celebrate the Coldest Day of the Year! Bang goes my cosy night in!

I kip for a few hours before I wander into town for dinner. It is dead. I grab chicken, rice and a beer at a local cafe with no doors. I could tell I was ill and had a cold. I couldn't face my beer. Bed for 12:00.

16 May - Huayna Potosí, Summit

2007-05-16T21:36:00.000Z

Up at 12:30am. I didn't sleep as well as I had hoped, I was too hot! Ended up using my down sleeping bag as a blanket. I pile on clothes and gear and double check the contents of my day pack, it includes a 1st aid kit and map! Brekkie, Coca tea and we all set off into the dark for 01:30.

We trapse awkwardly down to the snow line in our unforgiving 4 season boots where we don our crampons. Eliseo seemed to have rouble fitting his and we set off last, very last. In fact, the others are no-where to be seen. We walk single file, my guide in front, I'm roped to him following behind. Initially I find walking very awkward and extremely tiring but then I find rhythm and settle into a pace. We continue, walking in torch light, for hours. I keep the rhythm but vary the pace (according the to gradient), just like great sex!

We pass the girls, encounter our first wall and have to start climbing. It is exhausting and I gasp for air and oxygen. My guide doesn't let up, "Summit by torch light!" he screams, "Vamos!" I scramble higher, filling my lungs best I can, racking my brains for Spanish for "Stop!" I see Eliseo rise over the lip at the top but he doesn't stop there. He scrambles and runs further on shouting, "Vamos, vamos!" Roped to him I have no choice but to follow, lungs bursting. He stops and sits down in the snow. I collapse down next to him and rip open the zips on my coat and fleece, relieving pressure on my chest in a vein attempt to fill my lungs with more oxygen. The climb was 30 meters, he tells me, the next one is 200 meters! "Despacio!" (slowly) I gasp. He grins and tells me we're making good time.

I look around and take in my surroundings. I can make nothing out beyond the 8m of torch light. I have no incling of where we are going or what we're walking in between. It's just head down and follow the path. I can see the mass of street lights of La Paz below. It is an amazingly clear night and the electric stars above put La Paz to shame, the milky way clearly visible. The night is calm and still. I check the temperature, -10C. That would explain my frozen Camelbak tube (despite blowing air back in it after each sip). Luckily I also packed my Sigg and Thermos as well! I discover frozen chocolate is difficult to eat.

We plod on, up steep bits, along shallow bits. I keep checking my altimeter. "A new personal best!" I yell reading 5,900 meters. "I'm higher than Kilimanjaro!" Eliseo looks up, unimpressed, "Good, now we climb." I look up also, this is it, the last 200 meter ice climb to the summit. I take a deep breath and sigh, "Despacio." Eliseo grunts and powers on.

It's a different rhythm now. I climb for 5 / 10 steps, shout "Pare!", stop, get some breathe back, shout "Vamos!" and climb higher. During one rest I look around and notice that I'm surrounded by the other climbers. I've caught them up. It's the first sparkle of daylight and as I survey my surroundings I'm aware I'm perched on a wall of snow & ice, some 150 meters up, dangling off a rope from my guide a few meters above my head. With only an ice-axe and crampons sticking me to the side of the mountain I feel vulnerable and a slight sense of vertigo. The others are all wheezing hard and lack elegance in their climbing. "Vamos!" yells Eliseo and climbs higher, dragging me with him. I get a feeling it's a race to the top and that he's made bets with the other guides as to who gets there first. I know I'm making it to the summit but I can't breathe and have no driving desire to be first.

Feeling like Spidermen we all crawl up to a small ledge, the summit of Huayna Potosí, 6,088 meters above sea level. I'm the 2nd to summit, missing 1st place by a matter of seconds. Still, I'm happy. I gained some ½ hour on these super fit lads! It pleases me for I never think of myself as particularly fit or athletic. Breathing heavily I grab my hip flask (Bacardi Black Rum) and pass it to Eliseo. He immediately pours it on the ground. I step in to lamp him one but refrain when I remember it's an offering to Pacha Mamma, Mother Earth. Besides, there is still plenty left to offer around. As the sun peaks over the horizon, Huayna Potosí casts a huge funky pyramid shadow over the land and clouds opposite. Huayna Potosí, summit by torch light. Job done.

Eliseo hammers an ice anchor into the ground, I lean back and rappel down the wall. Weeeeee! It takes 3 hours to walk back to high camp. The sun's out, it's hot and it's hard. Trudge, trudge, trudge. The untouched snowy landscapes laid out before me look fantastic. On my way up I was completely unaware any of it existed.

At high camp it's no sleep and no rest for we need to descend to Base Camp for transportation back to La Paz. I shun all my climbing gear and stuff it back into my main pack. One by one, everyone else returns. Only Katrina didn't summit, she turned around at the bottom of the final 200 meter ice wall. The steep climb down to Base Camp on the loose rocks with a heavy, awkward back pack was very difficult. Being exhausted, progress was slow as I sure footed every step. I didn't want to twist / break anything at this late stage!

Base Camp was full of wide awake, happy, bouncy, Huayna Potosí hopefuls. "How was it?" they enquire. I collapse by the wall opposite looking like a bedraggled picture. I take a swig of water and reply, "Hard. Very hard. Only 2 out of 8 made it yesterday." "Oh." They look shocked, I just burst their bubble. I close my eyes in the midday sun and wait for my taxi.

Back in La Paz I tip Eliseo $20 US, book myself back into the El Solario Hostel and take a well needed shower. The day isn't over yet for I book myself a bus out of La Paz for the morning. It's time I left Bolivia, especially as my 30 day Visa is about to run out. I then taxi it over to my tailors. I dread picking up my Clown suit! But no fear, it's ready and the material looks a million times better than I imagined it to be! (Dark green with lighter woven stripes and a slight blue pin stripe.) Better than that it fits me beautifully! Even the trousers, which I usually have a hard time finding for my short stocky legs! I thank Mendoza for a job well done and head back to the hostel for sleep. It's been a long day.

15 May - Huayna Potosí, High Camp

2007-05-15T20:30:00.000Z

No donkey today, "auto" or otherwise. I'm to stuff it all into my main pack and lug it ½ km up to High Camp resting at 5,200m. I also strap my heavy day pack to the outside using various compression straps. It gives my pack a really awkward weight, I have to lean forward a lot to compensate. The 3 hours is a scramble straight up shingle, rocks and boulders. Eliseo wanted to take some of my awkward weight, fearing I was going to wear myself out, but I was adamant, if I bring it, I carry it. The girls by comparison didn't carry their boots, day packs or any water. Pah!

We pass 8 sturdy, athletic looking Antipodeans coming down. They had attempted to summit that morning. Only 2 out of the 8 made it. The odds look grim.

High camp is a newly built 2 story shelter above the glacier where the snow line starts. Eliseo's favourite saying of the day (well, past few days really) is, "Vamos a la Playa!" or "To the Beach!"

The rest of the day is along the lines of chill, lunch, rest, dinner, sleep, breakfast! There are not many people at the camp, only 8 punters who'll try to summit in the morning. Except for me and the girls they all look athletic and super fit. Amongst them is Sean, a very rich Ecuadorian with an interesting character. It seems he wants to utilise the wealth bestowed upon him to try and address some of the social injustices in his country - but once he's finished travelling of course! To that end he recommends a book called, "The Open Veins of Latin America".

Speaking to Shannon I find out she's a physiotherapist. She gives my gammy bent finger a 30 second diagnosis. It has a ruptured extender tendon, meaning it will never straighten on it's own until I have an operation. I only hope it won't be too late for it by the time I get back to the UK. She looks at my finger, looks at the mountain and tells me I'm a hero. I always knew it!

It gets dark and we all head upstairs to bed. The upper story is full of loose mattresses. We're getting up at 12:30am to start out final ascent. Partly for the whole summit at dawn thing but mainly because the snow gets too soft during the sunny daylight hours. People have disappeared down the numerous deep crevasses.

14 May - Huayna Potosí, Base Camp

2007-05-14T18:10:00.000Z

Having become more used to the intricacies of my sleeping bag I sleep much better. Still it must have been much colder last night because the fly sheet was frozen solid. You couldn't roll it back, it had to be folded like cardboard! After getting up I waited patiently for the first rays of sunshine to appear over Huayna Potosí - instant warmth! Then bizarrely this boy appears out of nowhere asking for 10 Bs camp site fee!? The fee is fine, I just wanted to know where the hell he came from?

I stashed some coca leaves upon my person and chewed them on the way up the pass, back over 5,000m again. On the way down the other side I began to feel a little queasy so when I stopped to iodine more water I spit the leaves out. Further on I spot a building at the top of a hill. "Is that the base camp?" I enquire hopefully. "Yes, but there are two. We go to the second one." "Bloody typical," I muse.

We walk around a large reservoir under the watchful eye of Huayna Potosí to some buildings used by the nearby Hydroelectric station. They kindly let us camp behind them. No toilets or long drops, you just hike up the hill and find some out-of-sight rocks. It's lunch time, 4,700 m, and I'm to rest here for the day so I go walkabout. The reservoir is a dam at the top of a huge drop off into the Zongo valley. It is hugely impressive, like Wow!

There is a red metal fence running along the edge of reservoir and the huge drop next to it. I was a little confused by the fact the fence running along the drop was a lot more flimsier than the one running along the water!? I hole myself up, out of the wind, on the side of the mountain overlooking the hydroelectric station for a few hours and update my journal.

On my return, the camp has been joined by 2 girls. Kratrina, a bulky, stereotypical looking East German girl who's here to experience the pain and discomfort of altitude. And Shannon, a cute little Irish surfer girl, who's besotted with her absent boyfriend. She's here because some friends climbed Huayna Potosí a few years ago and she's up for the challenge. Like me they each have their own guide and it looks like we'll climb together. Eliseo joined one of the other guides in his tent leaving me to myself.

Looking up at Huayna Potosí we can see the High Camp that we'll climb to tomorrow morning and from there the tracks leading up high in the snow'n'ice. The only water available at the High Camp is from what ever snow they collect and boil so we fill up what we can now. I take 4 litres. Foolishly I didn't check a "Hot Water Bottle" that a guide filled before chucking it in my sleeping bag along with some clothes. It leaked. Being a down sleeping bag, which doesn't dry well, and knowing how the temperature would soon plummet I was very concerned. Especially as my night clothes also got wet. Ulp! But fear not, an hour with a super absorbent pack towel and hot water bottles dried most of it up! Phew! Bed again for 19:30.

13 May - Huayna Potosí, First Sighting

2007-05-13T03:58:00.000Z

The guide gets up at 06:30, it's barely daylight and still below freezing. I stay in bed until I'm summoned at 07:30. Breakfast is Coca Matte, Sugar Puffs in strawberry yogurt and bread'n'jam.

There's an old man bumbling about who looks after the campsite (but its in ruins!) and I have to pay him 10 Bs. He needs to borrow my pen to write out the receipt. Only then do I discover I have no change and neither does he. I have 7 Bs or a 50 Bs note. Stalemate. He doesn't just want the 7 and I'm not giving him the 50! Compromise. I give him the 7 Bs plus my bic biro!

We walk up a pass to 5,050 m and at the top I get my first sighting of Huayna Potosí. Woah! She's a big girl and looks cold, steep and technically difficult! We walk back down into the valley to 4,700 m and stop for lunch. It's fried cheese and pasta, still warm and in the pot it was cooked in at 06:30 this morning. All the time Eliseo was clutching his old Nokia mobie, anxious for a call from the office, something about equipment. Despite his worried look he claimed it wasn't important. Just as well because the call never came. I console him with hot sweet coffee from my Thermos that I made at breakfast. I wanted to try chewing some Coca leaves today to see if it did anything but I found I'd mislaid my personal stash last night. Who needs it anyway?

From lunch we ascend to 5,000 m again. Much to Eliseo's dismay I clamber to the top of a steep peek for a look around. He didn't like me racing off on my own. On my return he points out Lake Titicaca below the horizon - cool! It's my first sighting.

On the way down I had to administer First Aid. My big toes were paining, it felt as if they were rubbing in my hot sweaty boots. Fearing blisters I applied layers of micro-pore tape as a preventative. A trick I remember Brett Jones preaching during our treks in Spain. What can I say other than it seemed to work! But then my knee joints kept giving twinges of pain. I put it down to nerves, being oversensitive and hoped it wouldn't get any worse.

I observe many caterpillars wriggling rapidly around on the grass, relentless in their pursuit of new pastures. Breathing hard and gasping for air myself I can't help but wonder, "Do Insects have lungs?"

We hop over a wall in a small pass that was built to keep Llamas out! Down to 4,700 m again we walk along a dirt track to our next campsite - some long abandoned farm site. Our pack donkey was replaced with a motorcycle which soon overtook us. We set up camp under the towering Huayna Potosí. I note it's getting closer. I got a little concerned when our "auto-donkey" broke down soon after leaving. For a good ½ hour it sat revving in the distance seemingly unable to engage gear. A friendly dog appeared out of nowhere and I didn't see how it could survive the freezing night. Eliseo seemed adamant that my prediction of 3 people and a dog in the 2 man tent wasn't going to happen. He was right, the motorbike magically fixed itself and the dog ran back to it's shelter over the hill.

Eliseo said he's really impressed with the speed of my walking at this altitude. I would usually say he's just being kind but I'm also aware we've not been going slow either! Dinner and bed again for 07:15. Lying in the tent we exchange words from my English / Spanish dictionary. Eliseo is keen to learn English, shame he's unable to say "The"! Bless.

12 May - Into Cordillera Real

2007-05-12T03:27:00.000Z

Up at 07:00 to pack, pay hostel and stash some bags into storage. I'm at the company's office for 08:30 where my guide is waiting for me. Eliseo (say El-lee-seo) is 24 years old and knows a few more English words than I know Spanish. We get a taxi to their main office on the other side of town where we collect our equipment. For me alone this includes white Long Johns, 4 season plastic boots (Scarpa!), crampons, fleece hat, balaclava, gloves, mittens, wind stopping fleece, leggings, gaiters, over coat, down sleeping bag, roll mat, 2 man tent and miscellaneous climbing gear. Something tells me it's going to get cold! We pile everything back in the taxi and head out to the Cordillera Real mountain range, stopping at several markets en route for food supplies. This gives me a chance to pick up water and a Saltenas breakfast.

An hour down a dirt track and we reach our starting point - a large farm house. These 5 buildings, or village Tuni, is where Eliseo grew up. There's a bright yellow company signpost, sticking out like a sore thumb, telling me I'm at 4,448m. We eat lunch (crunchy rice and chicken from market), ditch our equipment, shoulder day packs and start walking. A woman is to load up our donkey and follow later. We walk around lake Tuni and head into the hills.

I bump into a Swiss couple walking the other way. "Where you going?" they ask.
"Huayna Potosí," I answer. "The small mountain."
"Believe us, it's not that small!" they sneer.
"Oh, did you climb it?" I muse.
""Us? No, we're not that stupid!" they laugh. "Oh, and beware of night time," they say admiring my rolled up sleeves. "Temperatures drop below freezing to as much as -10C"
"Oh."
"Have fun, bye!" My guide grins knowingly, shrugs and walks on.

3 hours later we around a crystal clear lake to some old building ruins on the other side and wait for our pack donkey to turn up. When it does I pitch tent, crawl in and peacefully doze in the hot afternoon sun for a good ½ hour. I felt really sleepy even though I'd not achieved much that day, I came to and found Eliseo cooking on a little stove in his 2 man tent. The tent had no fly sheet and mainly consisted of ventilation gauze. I comment on it and he nervously looks up and sheepishly says, "Si, no beuno. Es possible para dos en tu camp?" "No." I shake my head. Cruel, arn't I?

The moment the sun dropped below the horizon the temperature followed suit and dropped considerably. We eat dinner in Eliseos incomplete tent; Veg soup followed by beef in tomato salsa & crunchy rice. Pretty good for a camp meal! Water takes forever to boil at this altitude (4,700m), nevertheless dinner is followed by Coca Matte before we both settle into my small, cosy 2 man tent for 19:30! Not being that used to the camp environment and the cold I didn't sleep that well. I kept tossing and turning and waking up every few hours to check the temperature. I noted a minimum of -7C. Still, at least I didn't have to be up until 07:30 in the morning, some 12 hours later!

11 May - Suit You Sir!

2007-05-11T02:13:00.000Z

I open my eyes to see Anika across the room. She ups, packs and leaves without saying a word of goodbye. Nada. I wonder what I said? Maybe it was my wonky finger? Anyway, I decide I've had enough of being shunned and left behind by girls and decide to kill myself instead. I book myself on the 5 day trek and climb of Huayna Potosi for $205 US.

I leave tomorrow morning. So I do some last minute shopping, buy a shed load of chocolate and a giant bag of Coca leaves. I'm also able to wrap up and post some photo CDs back to the UK. It's a busy run-around day and I rest for a pint at Oliver's Travels. Only the waitress gives me the address of a tailors she uses and recommends. So I finish my pint and jump in a taxi. I've been thinking of having a suit tailor made for Timbo's Wedding as the only one I have back in the UK is 2 sizes too big! I'm not taken to a suit shop but rather to a suit zone - 100s of tailors and material shops all back to back around several streets and squares.

It took me a while to find the recommended "Soliz & Mendoza" at 911. The tailor didn't speak English and I have trouble ordering food in Spanish, let alone discussing the details of suit design! I was taken to material shop where the kind husband and wife team tried to help me pick out a colour. Man was that difficult! I had no vision or idea if this roll or that would translate into a good suit or not!? I also wanted stripes so it could potentially be used in a work situation too. I finally picked one through a long process of elimination. Picking a suit style was substantially easier as I simply opted for a "Classico" look! The suit set me back 520 Bs and will be ready in 5 days, meaning I can pick it up straight after my mountain climb. Perfect timing!

Around the tailor shops was a superb market where I was definitely the only Gringo around. I celebrate by eating off a market stall for 8 Bs. As I chow down my fried Chicken and Corn I mull over my suit. I think I chose the wrong material. I think the green with yellow stripes will make me look like a clown.

A taxi back to the centro and I decide to enter the very local establishment next door for a quiet beer. No such look. All eyes are on the gringo as I stroll to the bar. Before I could order anything an older man at the bar insinuates in pigeon English that I drink with him and share his beer. He wears a brown leather jacket, aviator shades from Chips and is very drunk. I decide to accept his offer.

We sit at a table and I ask his name. He rolls up his sleeve to reveal a skull tattoo in a WWII German helmet and something unpronounceable scrawled underneath it. It's his name. He seems pleased with my attempt to pronounce it. In his rambling state he clenches both hands in the air and tells me he's so "Macho, macho, macho!" I think I'm supposed to be impressed with the bicep muscles I can't see under the jacket. I tell him he's "Macho." He then tells me he's a policeman and systematically starts shooting everyone in the room with his finger. To substantiate his claim he produces a piece of green laminated card from his wallet. For I knew it could have been his library card. Regardless, he's a psycho and I formulate an escape plan.

I go to the bar to buy my share of beer. The barman motions to my drinking buddy, shakes his head and says, "No amigo." I shrug my shoulders in agreement, "But what can I do?" I return to find him drumming the table to some tunes he just put on the jukebox. He leans over, puts a hand on my shoulder, stares me in the eye through his dodgy shades and says, slow as a retard, "I love you." I hold a blank expression. He shakes his head, disgusted he can't speak English and slowly says it again, "I love you." I was wrong. He's not a psycho. He's a gay psycho. I hurriedly finish my beer, make my excuses and leave. As I stand, waiting for the hostel door to be answered I'm anxious that Mr Psycho doesn't venture out and realise I'm sleeping next door! The Gods are smiling down on me, he didn't see.

10 May - Rim Runner

2007-05-10T22:09:00.000Z

I've been at 3,700m for long enough, time to go higher, much higher, to 6,088m higher. I begin to tout around all the climbing and tour agencies. Most are offering a 2 day, 1 night package, if I join an existing group, for $150 US. I happen across a place offering 3 days trekking (complete with a pack donkey!) and the 2 day climb, all on my own for $205 US! It's so cheap there must be something wrong with it! I figure my guide will be an 18 year old Spanish only speaking drop out who can't spell "Mountain" let alone climb one; I can see us having to eat the donkey to survive. The company's called Adolfo Andoino and they have a Hotmail email address.

I sit down at a cafe to mull over my options with a beer. Anika, the German girl, walks by so I wave and call her over. We chat and agree to meet up for dinner later that night. I find "The Base, the One Stop Shop for Adventures". Wow! They have everything! Camelbak bags and accessories, Thermarest repair kits, waterproof sprays, sleeping bags, branded fleeces - all the stuff you wouldn't expect to find in South America, let alone Bolivia! I've always disliked my flimsy Berghaus daypack that zips onto my main pack and all these delightful Camelbaks are staring me in the face!

There's a 24 litre Cranberry Red Camelbak bag with elasticated side mesh pockets, a dedicated shade & MP3 pocket, a detachable waist strap, chest strap, compression straps, front compartment, padded mesh back, hydration pouch and bag and it all weighs in at 1 Kg! I try it on, it fits perfectly. Plus it's called "Rim Runner", how delightfully rude! I get really excited and can't resist. Ian Summers, I know how you feel! I buy it for $99 US along with a new pack towel, a Thermarest repair kit and rain covers for both my new day pack and my main pack - essentially stuff I should have bought in the UK. A happy man I head home to prepare for my dinner date.

It may well have been a dinner date too for we both arrive at the hostel early to shower, cleanse and change into our travelling best! I of course take her to the Angelo Colonial Restaurant. Dinner goes fantastically well and we chat about Bolivians and travelling in general. It continues back into the dorm room where I show her my gammy looking broken finger. Well, I'm still impressed with it!

9 May - Nothing to Report

2007-05-09T00:59:00.000Z

I wake up hearing Sean's voice. Sean & Monika are leaving me today. They're heading into Peru for a pre-booked Inca Trail trek. I get up to say goodbye buy they're no where to be seen! I figure they had to rush for the bus.

I buy a few last bits'n'bobs and move back into a dorm room in Hostel El Solario, I figure it'll be more sociable. I have a cold and wish to spend the day in bed but decide to soldier on instead. I pack up my souvenirs and head to the Post Office. Sean gave me a step by step guide on how to post stuff for he spent hours yesterday battling against swarms of rude Israelis.

Bring 2 x Passport photocopies per parcel
Bring a roll of Sellotape
Arrive just before 14:00 when the office opens
Go to the 2nd counter CA9 to pick up forms X23 and CA71
Keep your sending address the same as the delivery address
State the contents as Ropa Personal
Pay 15 Bs for a Blue Bag in the wrapping room
Write "No Volver Bolivia" on the bag
Write the delivery address on the bag
Pack your stuff in the bag and tape it up
Take the bag to where the forms came from
They weigh, you pay, send it Economica.

Armed with the knowledge I walk in, get the forms and once the packing woman spots I'm not Israeli and posting to England she practically does everything for me. She even stitches up the back! Superb! 300 Bs (£20) to ship 6.9 Kg to the UK, it should take 2 months.

On the way back I pass a huge protest blocking the main street. I later find out 3 towns want to claim Independence together from Bolivia. That would explain the passionate chanting and the Police all tooled up in Heavy Metal Riot Gear! These boys were armed to the teeth with pump action shotguns, tear gas and belts and belts of ammo!

More odds'n'sods in the afternoon, found an Internet cafe with a CD burner, cashed a travellers cheque, bought some blank CD-Rs, toasted some photo CDs and met up with Mark & Mindy for dinner at Sol y Lunar. They're leaving for the Uyni Salt Flats later that evening. I have the Goulash, it seems to be good cold food. From them I get tipped off about San Pedro Prison where you can "pay" to be "invited" on an unofficial tour. It has its own mini-ecosystem where inmates can literally work their way up the hierarchy. e.g. from being a Bitch in a dorm room to having their own en-suite TV room. And Cholitas Wrestling on a Sunday night, no bars hold female wrestling with local women in their traditional costumes! Sadly I'm not going to have time to visit any of them.

Back in my dorm I chat to Anika, a cute blonde German girl who's just moved in, before bed. Although she was lying down the whole time, I suspect she has large breasts. Sweet dreams.

8 May - Spider Bites

2007-05-08T00:32:00.000Z

A normal start to the day - wake up, shower, dry and "Argh! What the hell's that!? And that! And that!" All over my left shoulder and upper arm are tens and tens of bites. There are so many it looks like a rash, "Argh!" There's more on my left upper thigh too. I spot Sean hanging outside my room and show him my shoulder, "What's that look like to you?" "Bed bugs!" he shrieks and dives into action. Before I know it he's stripped my bed and is scouring the seams and folds for the little nasties. Sheet, blanket and pillows, all clean. Not even any little blood splatters marking out where they, and their full little bellies, walked off.

I'm pretty sure the marks are not from the Jungle for I was aware of all the mosi bites I acquired on the last night's spider hunt. Sean's also confused as to why I'm not in constant agony. He knew one guy who got bitten by bed bugs who had to go to hospital for a shot of Cortisone to quell the itching. He muses that the only other creature that may bite in a similar grouping pattern is a spider, but they only bite some 6 or 7 times. So great, I may be sleeping and rolling around in a nest of spiders! I decide to move hostels tomorrow. I figure what ever is eating me isn't going to kill me so I'll survive the one more night.

More souvenir shopping today. Sean & Monika send a parcel home from the Post Office and I take notes on what I'll need to do myself. Come 20:00 Sean & Monika start to get really worried. They talked Mindy into doing the Death Road today with Mark. They also recommended and urged them to do it with B-Side Adventures. Mark & Mindy aren't back yet and should have been hours ago. What if they had an accident? What if Mindy fell off the road? It'd be their fault. I was just concerned they were late for dinner so I talk Sean & Monika into eating out without them. Another candle lit dinner with Stevie!

On our return Mark & Mindy walk in, all limbs attached. They had a great day only they had a slow group which took their time and the van had a flat tyre on the way back. Relieved Sean & Monika turn in early whilst I join Mark & Mindy at Sol y Lunar for a few drinks with their fellow biking buddies. As the night draws on I realise I'm coming down with a cold. Bed for 01:30.

7 May - La Paz Shopping

2007-05-07T00:07:00.000Z

Kind of a non day really. I plan to hang around La Paz (at an altitude of 3,700 m) for a few days to acclimatise. There's a mountain nearby, Huyana Potosi, with a summit of 6,088 m which I hope to climb. I spend most of the day wandering around market stalls shopping for souvenirs. There are lots of crafts around and being Bolivia, it shouldn't cost too much to ship it all home.

At first I was little taken aback when approached by a shoe shine boy wearing a full face balaclava. But it's all good, many wear then for anonymity, ashamed of their jobs, meaning they won't get recognised when they go out clubbing at night. Out of all the beggars encountered, the most unusual was an old man with no hands playing the harmonica! I figure a lot of everyday tasks must be very different for him! It's also time for another cut throat shave. At 10 Bs it's cheaper than buying a disposable razor!

For dinner Sean & Monika, Mark & Mindy and I go to Sol y Lunar, only it's heaving! We take the last table upstairs and order beers and food. A few beers and 1 ½ hours later, still no food and the place is rammed to the hilt. We ask the overworked staff about our food, they haven't even begun to prepare it so we pay for the drinks and head back to the Angelo Colonial Cafe instead. Many sarcastic jokes are made about couples enjoying romantic candle light dinners together with Stevie! I remark they'll all miss me when I'm gone!

6 May - Spiderman!

2007-05-06T23:14:00.000Z

After packing up our stuff we walk to the main lodge for breakfast. Sean, Monika & I leave this morning for our 14:30 flight, everyone else was staying for another jungle day for their flights weren't until the evening. Or so they thought! Madidi Travel didn't have enough boats to transport everyone back for the different flights so they changed all the flights to 14:30! Although they didn't actually say that, just that the flights "had" changed and everyone was leaving after breakfast.

A fast paced 30 minute walk with my 20 Kg main pack and day pack and we arrive at the river to our awaiting boat. It's a lovely calm 3 hour cruise back to Rurrenabaque. By means of an apology for flight fathing we were all treated to a fantastic tasting, huge fish lunch. Only because they hadn't quite got the timing right we only had 20 minutes to shovel it all down before boarding the airport taxi (another cheeky 5 Bs).

It's a 40 minute flight from sea level back to the highest commercial airport in the world (4,100m). The plane doesn't do much other than take off, ascend and land! 45 Bs (£3) taxi and we're back in the highest city in the world, La Paz. We book into the El Cactus hostel because Sean & Monika wanted somewhere a little quieter. For 30 Bs per night I get a room of my own. A little later Mark & Mindy, an Ozzy couple who stayed with us at the Jungle Lodge, also check into El Cactus, cool! Mindy's cute and Mark owns / runs CVS Dude, a CVS / Subversion online server company.

Stuff dinner we all have dessert at an ice-cream / cake cafe and watch Spiderman 3 (English language with Spanish subtitles) at the pictures. The film was great although, as is all far too common nowadays, they tried to fit in many bad guys. Why not save them for their own sequels and let you explore their personalities more, eh? Sigh. Then it's straight back to bed as because Sean & Monika don't drink, there's no such thing as last orders or a quite one. Humph!

5 May - Piranha Fishing

2007-05-05T21:42:00.000Z

After brekkie at 09:00 it's a jungle trek to Lago Gringo. Today I came prepared with mosi spray but didn't need it. I think they only come out before breakfast. We jump in a canoe and try our hand at Piranha fishing using prime beef as bait! No-one catches anything, except our guide who picks up a couple of fresh water fish.

We wander into a large hut on stilts where someone from the lodge must have pegged it over with lunch , because it's still very hot. Vegetable soup, chicken pasta and salad with jelly dessert. The floorboards look like tree bark and feels as flimsy too! Everyone is careful where they step as there are holes in it!

Next we're off to Lago Negro for more Piranha fishing via a little trek. The trail gets muddy and 2 logs appear on it acting as a bridge. There's another 2 logs after the first 2. The guide asks us if we need / want a walking stick to help steady ourselves. Monika takes 2 (1 for each hand) whilst Sean and I refuse. It doesn't look difficult and it isn't. But then at the end of the these stick bridges we discover more, only these sticks are raised and the mud gets deeper. Then more still and the mud turns to water and more where the logs are not secured properly causing them to roll as you walk over them. Then the 2 logs turn into 1! Eargh! Monika squeals a lot but slowly makes her way over, walking stick in each hand. Sean looses it half way along and gets a wet leg. I have a rocky moment but keep dry!

In the canoe on the other side we paddle through the reeds on Lago Negro until we reach clear water. Here we try for Piranha again, all except me because I left my line at the lunch lodge. Our guide catches a large one quickly followed by Sean, then Monika. The Piranhas make a wheezing noise as they gasp for air (water?). This disturbs Monika who decides she doesn't want to catch Piranha any more but wants normal fish instead! But fishing is all about luck and tough titty for her as she reels another one in. Not to be out done the guide baits one more before we paddle back.

Back to the log bridges, only this time knowing what's coming and fearing wet feet I take a walking stick - easy peasy! Sean stops. He hears something. Movement in the foliage. "Small Cappachino Monkeys," our guide smiles. We all stop and wait in silence, the crashing in the undergrowth getting louder and louder. It sounds like a marauding Rhinoceros rampaging towards us and we're just standing there like lemmings! But no, tiny Cappachino monkeys it is, just lots and lots of them and we were standing right in their path. They appeared in the palm tops, stared at us, squeaked and jumped over our heads before disappearing into the jungle beyond. Smiles all round!

A half hour walk back to the main lodge for a cold shower and dinner. I hang around after, waiting for everyone to leave. I wish to be last back for tonight I go on my creepy crawly walk. Armed with new batteries in my head torch I use high beam sweeps around the jungle path looking for sparkling eyes reflecting back at me. And boy do I find them! Hundreds and hundreds of spiders, everywhere! Blue and green eyes staring right at me. Moths tended to have red eyes. I spot a bright slimy thing too!?

4 May - Snakes and Spiders

2007-05-04T19:36:00.000Z

We get up in the dark, dress and make our way to the lodge for 06:00 for our early morning walk. We're a bit dismayed that our guides don't turn up until 06:30. Still, in the mean time we chase pigs and I find some bright green glowing beetles! We follow a train into the jungle and we immediately discover swarms of mosquitoes. I wish I'd brought out my mosi spray. I get bit instead. The walk was pleasant and we saw centipedes, insects, spiders and moths. Not exciting, but pleasant, then after a brekie of pancakes and scrambled eggs at the lodge we jump in a canoe for a paddle around the lake.

"Jungle" comes from a Latin word meaning "impenetrable" and was given to name the rain forest by people paddling along rivers and not seeing a means to enter land. We saw plenty fine examples of this from the lake. We also saw Stinky Turkeys, an Ecuadorian name given to this foul tasting bird. A Caiman also lets its presence be known to us before sinking below the surface.

A big lunch back at the lodge and another jungle walk where we encounter a massive spiders nest straight out of an Indiana Jones film set! As it was strung straight across our trail we had to walk around it. Definitely not the sort of thing you'd want to stumble into in the dark! After everyone else (but me) almost stepped on it, Sean spots a brightly coloured snake resting on the floor! We all conclude (after out guide wasn't sure) that it was the highly venomous Coral Snake. It does have a harmless look-alike cousin but we're sure it's not that one! We wanted to get a long stick to clear some leaves away (for better photos) but our guide wouldn't let us fearing it may attack the next group to stumble across it. Boo!

We see more huge spiders and toads, all toxic according to our guide. He's not a native and his knowledge seems weak and second hand and I don't believe him anywhere near as much as my indigenous Guyanese friends! We get a boat lift back to the lodge for dinner before a night time walk.

It's dark. Very dark. Especially when we all turn our torches off! It's nice to fumble around but we don't see anything. Except for a giant tarantula in the wood pile near the main lodge! Woah! Cool!

3 May - Welcome to the Jungle

2007-05-03T18:39:00.000Z

Had a lie in to 07:00 as oppose to 04:30 as a note in the hostel last night informed us that our Jungle flight to Rurrenabaque had changed from 06:50 to 09:20. Due to time constraints I didn't pack for the jungle, rather un-packed for it! i.e. Threw out what I knew I wouldn't need, e.g. sleeping bag, roll mat, etc. That still left me a full 18 Kg pack with all my clothes.

Stepping out of the hostel we were happy to immediately flag down a taxi for 45 Bs but then unhappy when we hit the main road. The taxi was only firing 2 of it's 4 cylinders and was severely underpowered. It's a half hour ride uphill to the airport and we were chugging along being passed by everything. A mini-bus full of passengers attempted to undertake. As it drew level it pulled out to overtake a lorry in front, causing our driver to take evasive action. We swerved into the outside barrier and slammed on the brakes. Our vehicles were so close I was absolutely certain contact had been made. I was wrong, we must have missed each other by an inch or so. Our driver simply blew his horn and shrugged it off. Sean and Monika went quiet in disbelief and I, riding shotgun, considered wearing a seat belt. If it had one. To add insult to injury, the lorry then powered off leaving the mini-bus dithering on the hard shoulder.

Our aeroplane was cool, it looked like a small Lear Jet. 2 single rows of seats (some 30 in total) and a clear view of the cockpit and pilots. i.e. no door, security or otherwise. We take off from the highest commercial airport in the world at 4,100m. Our mere 40 minute flight took us over some mountains before descending to land on a grass strip in the Jungle. As we couldn't see the landing strip it looked like we were crash landing in the tree tops! Opening the cabin door was like opening the door to a furnace. La Paz was a cool 15C, here, just 40 minutes down the line was a stupidly humid 35C! I had to take my jumper off.

Amazsonus is the only commercial airline to operate in Rurrenabaque and they have a mini shuttle bus that ferries people the 5 minutes to and from town. Now considering they monopolise the airport I think it's a right cheek they charge 5 Bs for the service. Still, I cough up the 33p. Humph.

We arrived at the Madidi Travel office for 10:30 to find their boat didn't wait for us and that we'd have to wait until 13:00 for the next one. Sean complains. Although it's not their fault our flight had changed, they did know about it yesterday and could have made provisions, especially as we paid to have activities today. Phone calls are made and its agreed it's unfair for us to wait until 14:00 for the boat, a box lunch provided and the boat confirmed to leave at 14:30 though it may be 15:00. We did eventually leave at 16:00.

To while away the time we were given a boat ride up stream for an hour and a half. It was pretty but not much to see. We turned around when we reached the imaginary border to Madidi National Park. There was a hut on the side of the river. As we approached park rangers sauntered out to watch us - we're not allowed in the park. Our driver taunted them and kept motoring on. The rangers drew guns. We kept motoring. Sean wasn't happy and nervously shouted at our driver to "Volver!", "Return!" We didn't. Sean shouted again. We did. The rangers holstered their weapons and returned to their hut, presumably to eat donuts.

Rurrenabaque is a tiny town and only appeared on the map some 10 years ago and exists solely as a tourist gateway to the Bolivian Jungle. It is remote, despite the 40 minute flight from La Paz, it's also an 18 hour bus ride. It has a feel of lawlessness about it. I like it. Had I not been travelling with Sean & Monika, who are short on time (hence the flights in and out), I would have stayed for longer.

Being low on local Bolivian cash I go on a mission to change a travellers cheque. Obviously the bank doesn't so I'm directed to a hostel instead. On the way the heavens open and a down pour ensues. There is no shelter. I get drenched. I wander round the deserted hostel for a good 10 minutes looking for staff. I find one and get directed to the Chain Saw shop next door! It all seems good, I like the exchange rate, I photocopy my passport, sign the cheque and only then am I informed he has no Bolivianos. Instead he hands me a $100 US note and demands some 30 Bs commission. As I've already counter signed the cheque it's now useless to me and I'm held hostage to his demands. He has me over a barrel. Begrudgingly I hand over the last of my local groats for the US note. Damn it. Luckily, for yet another commission fee, the bank changes US notes.

The boat trip to the lodge took 2½ hours down stream. We only grounded in the shallows twice! The driver had a stick with him which he uses to punt with every now and again to check the water depth. We arrived at our landing for sunset which meant the next ½ hour jungle hike was in the dark. Yes, I had a head torch but the guide took it!

Sean, Monika and I share a jungle hut. The camp has no electricity, just candles, but does running cold water for the tap, toilet and shower. The hut is posh, is on stilts and has see through Mosi-webbing for walls. Sean breaks out his iPos and speakers and delivers Guns'n'Roses "Welcome to the Jungle". It's a 5 / 10 minute walk to the main lodge for a candle lit dinner. We ask for a midnight walk but told there's no point because it's a full moon and they'd be no animals about. So we resign ourselves to listening to the grunting ruckus of pet pigs outside instead.

2 May - Single Track Downhill Biking

2007-05-02T23:02:00.000Z

Up early at 07:00 to ready myself, today Sean and I are to do some hardcore Single Track Downhill Mountain Biking as seen on the New World Order Volume 6 DVD! Sean is dismayed with my "quick drink" last night. Oh well. We're out with B-Side again and have the same crew, Stephan the driver, Ariel the professional competition rider and Paul, the token British hippie. The tracks are for intermediate / advanced downhill riders (like Sean) - I don't think the crew are too impressed then I tell them I lied on my application form. I'm a complete beginner and never done anything like it before! I mean, how hard can it be?

It's a long windy drive to an altitude of 4,600m where our decent begins - speeding down a dirt track, then off road, over bumps catching air, round a downhill slippery corner where I jam on the front disk brake and find myself leaping head over heals over the handlebars. The extent of the sympathy given is Paul shouting out to the others, "Steve's just done a classic!" I need to move my weight further back behind the seat.

I'm wearing full body armour. I get a feeling I'm going to use it. A bit further on the single track starts - very steep, narrow paths down and along cliff faces, over rocks, boulders, dips and holes. I find picking your line difficult to judge because it all depends on your speed. Too slow when traversing along a slope and your front wheel looses grip, skids and slides down it into the ditch, throwing you off. Too slow into a boulder and the front suspension absorbs all the bikes speed, throwing you over the top. Too fast and everything slides, you miss the turn which usually means pain.

Foolishly I forget to bring water and towards the end of the morning I overheat in the blazing sun and body armour. I exhaust myself at altitude, dehydrate and loose energy. Coming down an amazingly steep zig-zag path with acute corners I loose it, can't find the ground and twist my right ankle. Bollocks. Still I make it back to the van for lunch of fried chicken fast food and pain killers.

We drive to the top of another mountain for the afternoon run. This one is harder, much harder. Same as earlier but with added sheer death drops down the side of 1 foot ridge paths, littered with gaping holes and canyons. These paths are so nasty you would think twice before even walking down them! I can honestly say I was very concerned for my safety (read afraid!) for the first time in a very long time (a decade maybe?). Especially after I came off and mushed up the 3rd finger on my right hand. It swelled up, is bent at a funny angle and looks broken.

Paul says he's genuinely impressed with my riding given it's my first time and says he wouldn't have chosen this as his first track! I'm also pleased that everyone else fell off at some point too (but to a lesser extent). I make it down the mountain, skimmed over a rickety wooden bridge and was greeted with a cold beer. A fantastic day out!

Dinner at Sol y Lunar and Ana & I go for a night cap at Oliver's Travels. I'm sorry to say that due to the heat, altitude, fear, hard work and attentiveness of the day I was exhausted and had to keep it to just the one. I'm up early again tomorrow...

1 May - Worker's Day

2007-05-01T22:30:00.000Z

Today is workers day, a Bolivian Bank Holiday. (Isn't that a contradiction in terms?) We check out of the hotel and catch a local mini bus back to La Paz - 3½ hours for 15 Bs (£1). It's nice and empty, lots of room and we're all admiring the views until we reach the top of the mountain. We drive up into the clouds and are flagged down by a broken down coach. A horde of working women approach us with an insane amount of luggage and sacks and start piling it onto our mini-bus. I exit and help haul the bags onto the roof, doubling the height of the bus, On return to my seat it's shoulder to shoulder, more sacks are pushed on and in and surprisingly agile 60 / 70 year old women scramble over them to cram into all available corners. The driver reaches behind his head, turns on the TV and adjusts the volume by feel alone. A DVD begins to play, only it's half static due to dodgy connections. The women talk loudly and openly get their boobs out to breast feed. It keeps the babies quiet. A couple of bad smelling men squeeze on at the Police check point. Our Bolivian bus is complete!

The bus drops us off at an outer township in La Paz meaning a 8 Bs taxi ride to the centre. Ana & Isabelle from the Uyni tour greet us as we check back into the El Solario hostel - guess where they're staying!? They didn't recognise me with my clean shaven look! We take them to dinner at our favourite Angelo Colonial Cafe. Sean & Monika have their usual early night while Ana, Isabelle and I walk up the road for a drink at the Hard Rock Cafe. We, um, stay for several more than just the one! The place fills up (mainly with Israelis) and turns into a Night Club. Wicked! Time to get our groove on... Bed for 02:30.

30 Apr - Coroico

2007-04-30T03:21:00.000Z

Walking to the dining room for breakfast I notice a lit candle in the gloomy reception. There's a power cut. I'm told that the power company usually have it fixed before dark. That's nice of them! Breakfast is a self service buffet affair and I end up stuffing myself silly, complete with 5 cups of coffee. To honor the absence of the dearly departed Isi I even make myself little cheesy scrambled egg sandwiches. I work it off over a couple games of pool and look forward to a couple of hours quiet time to write up my dairy. So I settle down at a table with a beer and my MP3 player, overlooking the valley below and who should come over for a chat? Elba, the Penguin's wife from the bar the other night. Doh! She was very happy and excited to see me again. Double Doh! As I'm tired from yesterday I'm not very talkative so luckily she soon leaves me alone - but not after a quick photo shoot! Sean & Monika see her at the pool in a leopard print swimming costume. Nice.

We (Sean, Monika and I) walk into town for dinner and on the way back I buy a 1 Litre bottle of Bacardi Negra for 50 Bs (£3.30). I don't like the neat taste too much but I figure it'll go well with Coke.

As predicted, power is restored as night falls and Sean and I spend time on the computers, burning photo CDs. We catch the end of Mr Bean on Holiday in the TV room and this rough dog limps in and lies down next to Sean. So Sean starts rubbing his belly and petting him and notices he's blind in one eye (the dog, not Sean!), it's opaque and clouded over. I then point at it's hind leg and scream, "Look, it's got a bone! Ewww!" The dog was missing a toe from it's paw but the bone to the first knuckle was still attached and fully exposed. The skin still a bit pussy and bloody where the bone had punctured it's way out. Eww!

29 Apr - The World's Most Dangerous Road

2007-04-29T01:41:00.000Z

Up at 07:00, get driven to the top of The Most Dangerous Road in the World, mount up on our orange, overbuilt, full suspension, Iron Horse bikes and ride 64 km downhill. The road is a dirt track carved into the side of a mountain which connects Coroico and La Paz. It gained it's notoriety some 15 years ago when some 50 people a month used to die on it. Usually from mini-buses toppling over the side into the deep canyons below which, as you can imagine, would easily up the death count. Since they've built a new pathed road for vehicles, it's really only us mountain bikers who continue to use the old "Death Road".

There are still plenty of grim Gringo tales of travellers meeting an untimely end, like the French girl who stepped back into thin air to let a lorry pass, or the Israeli guy who lost his balance trying to kick his mate off his bike or the Israelis who drove too fast in a hired jeep. All dead.

The first section, some 32 km, is now a paved road and we followed our guide at maximum speed, free wheeling down. We raced down, way faster than we could peddle, even in top gear. Leaning and banking round the corner chicanes and overtaking lorries on straights. Even this bit was cool! We stop at 2 police checkpoints. At the 2nd one we each had to pay 24 Bs Bicycle (read tourist) tax. Then begins the real dirt track Death Road!

The road is full of rocks, stones and shingle. It's wet, cloudy and rather slippery but that doesn't stop Sean and I from tearing down at full pelt, hot on the tail of our expert guides. We were taking the racing line round corners leaving nothing but less than a foot of ground between our wheels and the sheer drops of death below. And it seems there is never a bad time to practice your bunny hops either! I was having a great time and I also impressed Mr Mountain Biker Sean too! Like Wow!

Throw in fantastic scenery, huge views and giant Eagles circulating overhead and following you around - a fantastic day out! We barely peddled once as it's all downhill and we were each greeted with a cold beer at the bottom. Perfect!

We were driven to a posh hotel in Coroico for hot showers and dinner (Thank you B-Side, you've not let us down!) - all very nice. In fact too nice. Rather than go back to La Paz we decide to stay in Coroico and hike up the hill to Hotel Esmeralda. It's owned by a German guy and has the biggest write up Sean has ever seen in a travel book! It is lush, esp at $15 US pppn (a shared triple room with no bathroom). The views of the vast valley below are stunning, from everywhere, the bedroom, the dining room, the veranda, the swimming pool and even the pool table!

The plan tomorrow was to search out some swimmable waterfalls at the end of a 3 hour walk. Chilling in the pool we didn't see any reason why we should leave the hotel. Ever!

28 Apr - Jazz Club

2007-04-28T22:28:00.000Z

We feel the need to do something constructive today so after an Apple Pie breakfast we head out to Madidi Travel to book a Jungle trip. There we meet and have a good chat with Rosi XXX, the well spoken founder who helped set up and get recognition for the Madidi National Park. Booking was a long and timely process, mainly due to the useless, nay brainless, fat girl behind the desk who had to make lots of phone calls.

Bring... Bring... "Yeah, there's a flight in the morning."
"At what time?"
Bring... Bring... "06:50."
"Are there 3 seats available?"
Bring... Bring... "No, it's full."
"Is there another flight?"
Bring... Bring... "Yeah."
"What time is it?"...etc and so on...

And then she couldn't work out how to use the Credit Card swipey machine. After making 5 dud impressions of all our cards we stepped in and showed her how. Grrrr...

Despite the forecast being rain for the next few days, today is a beautiful sunny day (unlike rainy yesterday) so we decide to chance the weather and The Death Road tomorrow. We choose B-Side Adventures for Sean (being a Mountain Biker enthusiast) is really impressed with their Overbuilt Iron Horse bikes - full front & rear suspension with 7" of travel, front and back 8" disk brakes, etc... For some reason booking this and filling in the paper work also took a long time.

The afternoon is spent looking for camping shops. I want to replace my pack towel and Sean's after a pair of zip-off trousers. There are none - just a couple of specialist climbing shops. I also look for a Cambio to change a Traveller's Cheque. It's Saturday, they're all closed.

Around the hostel are around 12 hairdressers / barbers all back to back. Whenever I walk past with my long unkempt shaggy hair and a bushy beard they'd all go crazy and start waving and shouting at me! On the way back I sucome, pick one and get a cut throat shave and a haircut for 20 Bs (£1.20). I asked for an inch to be cut off but get scalped instead! I've not had short back'n'sides for almost a decade! Sean & Monika are amazed at my transformation and reckon I look 5 years younger and my pulling power has increased 10 fold! I'm not convinced but think I may keep the look for the Wedding anyway.

Sean, Monika and I have dinner at the Sol y Lunar Bar where I was last night. The food was very nice. Then I go out on my todd again to try and find some lively bars - it is Saturday after all! In particular I'm after an ex-pat place called Mondos. I don't find it but I do find Boom-E-Rang, a bar with a live Bossanova band and lots of couples grooving to it. I drink at the bar watching the talented dancefloor divas.

Later I discovers Theolinus Jazz Club which initially looked quite full until everyone emigrated to the stage to form a 16 strong band! The first song sounded a little sloppy but the rest (once they'd warmed up) were fantastic! The conductor was a half cast stereotypical jazz enthusiast complete with flat cap! The band enjoyed themselves and the was well worth the 20 Bs cover charge. I note a couple from the Boomerang walk in, the guy takes to the stage and takes over the drums. The next song he has a go on the piano! Clearly a well loved, talented lad. The bar waitress looked as though she worked in an American diner complete with long blonde curly hair. I realised I thought she looked cute when I couldn't speak to her straight!

On the way back, along 20 de October I happen across some seedy, unmarked , pink neon establishments with rough looking bouncers outside. Bed for 03:00.

27 Apr - Local Girls

2007-04-27T21:07:00.000Z

It was back to the Colonial Cafe for breakfast (mixed fruit, real coffee, bread & honey, just squeezed orange juice, bacon & scrambled eggs) for 17 Bs (£1.20) - yummy! Today's plan was to walk around town - the first stop, the cathedral. I hang around whilst Sean & Monika fath about with camera bags or something and, "Hola, do you have some time to speak to us?" I'm approached by 2 girls. Fearing a scam 'cos given my Red Neck look I look like a tourist if there ever was one, my pockets suddenly become hyper sensitive - but they seem harmless enough. They're studying English at the local Uni and want to practice their skills. I call Sean over for I figure if they're using me for English we should use them for local knowledge. A fair exchange, no? Plus Sean is a talkaholic and likes to goof around in front of girls!

We chat and they take us to the main Post Office and to a bakers where we want to purchase a sweet pie. It was a toss up between a Lemon Meringue Pie and an Apple Pie. The Apple Pie won on sheer weight to money value. It weighed some 3 Kgs! For Sean, Monika and I it meant a kilo of Apple Pie for only £1 each! That's 45 Bs for a whole Apple Pie. The bakers didn't want to sell it to us in fear of us underestimating the cost.

"You know it's 45 Bs?"
"Cool, we'll take it."
"But it's 45 Bs!"
"Yes, we know. 45 Bs it's ours!"
"That's 45 Bs, are you sure?"
"Yes, 45 Bs for the pie." They consult another member of staff who says,
"It *is* 45 Bs!"
"We want the bleedin' pie for 45 Bs!"
"But..."
"Here's a 100 note! Now hand over the damn pie!"

They take the note, finally! Sean and I guard the pie with our life.

The girls take an interest in our English / Spanish phrase books and photo copy them. We then take them out for a drink at Oliver's Travels, a 100% fake English pub! Sadly come 16:00 Jenny and Lucero had to bus home.

Sean and Monika want an early night. It's Friday night in La Paz, I want out! So I change and hop back to Oliver's Travels hoping for some lively action. It's 11:30, dead and serving last orders. Sigh.

Sat at the bar is a much older woman. I can't lie, she's fat, unattractive and no amount of alcohol would change my mind. She also starts talking to me. I politely talk back and convince myself that, as I lacked any better ideas, I should join her for a drink over the road at the Sol y Lunar Bar. She's Bolivian, a landowner, speaks good English (when she remembers) and if the Penguin from Batman II had a spouse, she would be the spitting image of "Elba"! 2 pints later and it's time to go, only she wants walking back to her hotel. Being British, how can I not oversee her safety? So I do, and all the while I'm wondering how much I should charge should she wish for "Extra Services"! Luckily the walk uphill practically does her in and I escape with a hand shake and a paltry kiss on the cheek. I race home to bed for 02:00.

26 Apr - La Paz

2007-04-26T18:26:00.000Z

A lazy morning, we all wander the 10 blocks into town for breakfast at the Hari Chrisna place. They do massive bowls of fruit, muesli, yogurt and honey. We buy a bus ticket to La Paz, a 4 hour journey for 15 Bs (£1) but when we return with our bags we're given our money back and the tickets taken off us. "Blockades," we're simply told. We believe it.

Only one other company was still selling tickets to La Paz, but for an over inflated price of 23 Bs (£1.50) to run the blockades. Not wanting to hang around any longer in this ugly town we take it. Half an hour and a couple of sales people later we experience our first blockade, some 25 people sat across the road. It didn't look terribly impressive but it served it's purpose. We use a dirt track that followed the road to navigate around.

Another hour and we encounter our second blockade. The same amount of people, plus support vehicles and they'd also peppered the road with thousands of giant rocks and boulders rendering it unusable. We followed a lorry and another coach off road for they seemed to know where they were going through the secluded desert. Getting back on the road proved tricky for it was on a lip / rise. If we were to attack it straight on we would ground the coach. So instead we join it like a slip road under the watchful eye of many onlookers and risked rolling the bus. Luckily we were okay and continued onto La Paz.

We arrived on the outskirts of La Paz at an altitude of 4,100m which gave spectacular panoramic views of the city centre sprawl below. A taxi from the Bus Station to La Solerio Hostel in the centre of town cost 10 Bs (66p). Sean and Monika got a double room together and I moved into a 4 bed dorm for 25 Bs per night (£1.65).

We strolled around the busy narrow market streets in the evening, noting that amongst the colourful handicraft stalls were stalls selling lotions, potions and unborn Llama foetuses. Apparently if you bury one under the floorboards of your new house it brings you good luck! Just walking around the hilly cobbled streets is hard work for it's too easy to forget you're at 3,700m!

For dinner we found, and fell in love with, the Angelo Colonial Cafe with main meals for 30 Bs (£2). The interior decor it littered with old pistols, cameras & paintings and come dark it is lit solely by candle light. Beautiful.

25 Apr - Lo Coto

2007-04-25T17:48:00.000Z

We leave the hotel to catch a taxi at 06:30 to take us to the Bus Station. The taxi was originally a right hand drive but had been modified - the steering column & pedals had been ripped out and stuck on the left hand side. The passenger seat (where I was sat) still had the working dashboard and drivers seat (ex-passengers) still had the glove compartment. This seemed perfectly legal, even though the driver couldn't actually see the working dash!

We find and board our bus. The usual sales man stands at the front and begins to address us in Spanish. Nothing new here, people do this all the time, selling sweets, drinks, pastries, books and bread. The verbal spiels don't usually last longer than 2 minutes but this guy... He's a crack pot medicine man selling a potent potion in the form of a tea to cure all known digestive problems. Half an hour later he's still preaching. All I want it a little peace and quiet so I may doze away the morning hours. But no. I almost pay him just to shut up!

We roll into Oruro just after lunch and check into a yellow hotel just over the road as recommended by Sean's Footprint guide. The staff were rude and unhelpful. We walk 10 blocks to the town centre. Oruro is an ugly, oppressive market town which long lost the importance of it's mining background.

Sean and Monika take me to a Veggie restaurant for lunch - it's to be my big Veggie experience, a 3 course meal for 50p! The starting soup was nice but the main was merely a plate of tasteless slop. Over boiled plain rice, black soggy veggie mush and nasty soya lumps. Dessert was a tiny glass of ice-cream. Now you can't go wrong with ice-cream can you? Wrong. It was artificial plastic ice-cream wanna be, with some nasty chemical flavour. Not even Sean or Monika liked it! I decide to stick to my Meat.

Come evening Sean & Monika head off to a Hari Chrishna Veggie restaurant. I stay at a fake Hard Rock Cafe knock-off, they serve Llama Steaks!!! The place looks cool with sections of an old red Chevy stuck to the wall. Part way through dinner I chew on half the green pepper garnish. My mouth beings to burn, badly. I swallow some. My throat begins to burn, badly. I begin to sweat. My eyes stare into space as they begin to water. I drink some beer - the heat intensifies. I chow down some rice - the heat is unbearable. Nothing helps quell the raging spicy pain. All I can do is sit and wait it out. Wow, is that some spicy chili! I eat some more over the course of the meal but leave some for Sean's arrival.

I fear I've turned into a spicy pussy and need a control experiment. When Sean and Monika turn up I ask Sean if he likes spicy food (knowing he does) and hand him the innocent looking green pepper. "Is it spicy?" he asks. "Yeah, a little," I reply as he stuffs half in his mouth and starts chomping away. His motions slow and he stares into space. He utters a single word to Monika, "Water." "It won't help!" I grin excitedly. I watch as Sean goes through the same stages of pain as I did earlier. I'm happy. I not a spice pussy. That evil green thing is hot! Luckily Sean is more impressed with the heat of the chili than he is upset with me! We enquire with the waiter as to what the green spice is. "Lo Coto," he replies with a grin.

24 Apr - Hot Lagoon

2007-04-24T17:09:00.000Z

We walk all the way downhill to the other side of town to the bus station and buy a ticket to Oruro. A wee walk back up the hill to a market and we jump on a mini-bus to XXX Lagoon. There's a small queue of buses that only leave when they're full, and that doesn't mean when the seats are taken either!

We pass a hand made road sign for XXX and ask if we should get off. "No, mas directo aci!" they shout and point further down the road. We get off where instructed, next to a barely visible sheep trail on the side of a rocky hill. The guide book says a 45 minute walk. In 5 we were approaching the small heated lagoon. Parked next to it was a large motor home with an old German couple who for the past 3 years (excluding a couple of "holidays" back in the Mother land) had been slowly working their way down the continents from Alaska!

We were asked to pay 5 Bs (33p) to swim the naturally heated lagoon by an old man floating around and told not to venture more than 3 meters from the edge. The lagoon was a nice warm bath temperature with a soft muddy bottom (if you could reach that far!). Sean and I swam most of the way round until we decided that there weren't any monsters lurking in the middle of the lagoon but rather most local Bolivians (being in a land locked country) couldn't swim. Hence the 3 meter warning.

Afterwards we scooted back down the rocky hill just in time to flag down a return bus, with the same driver no less! More breast feeding antics in an overpopulated confined area and we're back in La Paz for 4 Bs. Dinner was back at the Koala Cafe for more Chicken and Mash.

23 Apr - Havin' a Blast!

2007-04-23T15:22:00.000Z

I wake up and shave. No ordinary shave though, I follow Sean's suggestion and go Red Neck! Today I'm gonna be handling Dynamite and I wanna look the part. At the start of the tour we're driven to some one's back yard and given wellies, safety helmet, head torch & battery pack and jacket & trousers before being driven to the Miners Market. Here our group of 7 were led to a stall and out guide gives us a quick history lesson of the mines, including descriptions of Blasting and handling real sticks of dynamite!

Mining conditions are harsh and still very labour intensive. They work for themselves in small groups (usually 2 - 7 people), up to 1½ km deep in the mountain with no electricity and no machines. They use pick axes and hand cranked drills to bore blasting holes for the, now very ineffective compared to modern explosives, dynamite sticks. The fuses and detonators are still the archaic burning black powder type and if they don't hear a stick go off they have to wait 24 hours before checking on it. All except a few larger syndicates carry all the rocks, ore and minerals to the surface by hand in 35 Kg ruck sacks. Some of the upper levels have rail tracks and carts but again they're manual and the miners have to push and drag the full wagons by hand. Bear in mind that despite being in the mountain, they're still at some altitude of 4,000m, there is no artificial ventilation to pump air & oxygen in, the dusty atmosphere is full of arsenic and asbestos and the only light they have is provided by the torch on their helmet. These electric head torches only came into effect a few years ago. And we get to experience it all. Oh yeah!

Women aren't allowed to work the mines, it's bad luck. (Just think, "women + sharp object = disaster" therefore "women + explosives = major catastrophe!") Miners are real men. They work all day with nothing but Coca leaves, fizzy pop and cigarettes to stimulate and sustain them throughout the day. Then on Friday night they get blotto'ed on Ceibo, a 96% vol alcoholic drink and chase the Chicas. I feel compelled to buy them some pressies. From the stall I buy them a Completo (1 stick of dynamite, a 4 minute fuse, detonator and a bag of ammonium nitrate for that extra kick!), ½ litre of Ceibo, 2 litres fo fizzy pop, 2 bags of Coca leaves, ½ litre of some 45% grape spirit, a couple of chocolate bars and 2 Completos for myself - all for under £5. I love this country!

Before we hit the mines we first visit the processing plant. This is where the rock and ore gets crushed, separated and tested for purity by various large and exposed heavy machinery. We're also told now is the time to try the Coca leaves to help with the altitude. Needing no further invitation I pummel a fistful of leaves into my mouth and start chewing. It gives a strong yet pleasant tea flavour and quickly makes my cheek and the tip of my tongue go numb. The rest of the group are slow at taking up the initiative. The guide explains you're not supposed to chew it like chewing gum because you ingest it too quickly, giving you diarrhea. I instantly stop chewing. Instead you pick the leaves off the stems and stash them in your cheek, much like a hamster, mixing it with saliva and letting the juices slowly seep into your blood stream. So I did that that and lost the flavour and the feeling returned to my tongue and cheek. Feeling no other stimulus I wondered what the point was but kept the stash in my gob regardless - it added to the Red Neck Hill Billy look. Yeah!

Head torches on we enter the mine. The tunnels are no larger than need be and barely fit a small standing Bolivian miner. They are only reinforced where cave-ins had started - you had to duck under these sections. Underground we enter a mini-miners museum. Here they have effigies of El Tio, the devil spirit of the mines. Each morning the miners adorn him with Coca leaves, cigarettes and booze in the hope of receiving a good stash of minerals in return. We also learn of more mining hardships, e.g. in only 1942 thousands of women and children were shot and massacred in 5 hours by the Bolivian Army as they marched to ask for a pay rise for the miners.

During this break I take the opportunity to shovel more Coca leaves in my mouth. Even at this early stage we loose 2 of our group of 7 who couldn't hack the claustrophobia. Monika wanted to leave too but Sean dragged her deeper into the mountain. Here we had to crawl on hands and knees and slide down wooden shoots to progress further. The altitude and chemically contaminated atmospheric dust proved to be a real challenge. In these upper levels we came across many miners, both digging, pulling wagons and resting. They all seemed happy, or at least content, with their lot.

To give a real experience of what it's like to mine we were asked to help out and shovel a wagon load of rubble into buckets, but quickly before the next wagon load turned up. In the thin air and dusty heat we were soon sweating and heavily out of breath. It was but one wagon load - miners do it repetitively for 10 hours a day. Their stamina is impressive.

We clamoured down to level 3, there are 8. That was hard and deep enough for the group, all except Sean and I. After a "little" persuasion the group split and Sean and I were taken down to level 4. This involved slithering down a hole in a side passage no bigger than a human, with no ladder, just using pressure from arms and legs to keep yourself from falling. We loved it! We then raced, crawled and climbed back to catch up with the rest of the group. There were no rests nor breaks until we did and our lungs were bursting, craving oxygen. We were breathing deep as if we'd almost drowned.

For some the sight of daylight at the end of the tunnel was a welcome vision. For others the sad end to a fantastic experience. But not sad for long for I had 2 Completos to blow up! Our guide showed me how; unwrap the stick and roll the explosive dynamite into a ball, stick the detonator & fuse in, compress the paper wrapper back around it and tie it tightly in the plastic bag of ammonium nitrate. I lit the 4 minute fuse, it began to burn. The guides and miners seemed unbothered as if there was all the time in the world, so I pose for photographs with an ignited explosive by my nuts, watching the fuse slowly melt away. With only 2 minutes to detonation I begin to get nervous, no-one had taken an interest in my death device. Then a miner grabs the dynamite and he and his mate, also with fists of burning explosives, peg down the hill. They drop the dynamite and run back up the hill as fast as their little legs could carry them, as if their lives depended on it. Which it did.

Us tourists hang behind, cameras in hand, waiting in anticipation. We were not disappointed. Bang! Boom! We felt the shock waves of the explosions, saw plumes of dust and smoke erupt into the air and our ears rang with the deafening roar. Awesome and very satisfying!

Later we ate at the Koala Cafe, upstairs and next to Koala Tours for a cheap meal of juicy chicken and delicious mashed potato. I return to my cold and smelly room. It's been an excellent but hard day.

22 Apr - Potosi

2007-04-22T13:11:00.000Z

A small panic at breakfast, the crazy German woman claimed she was on the same 09:30 bus as Sean, Monika and I. But then she also said she was on the another bus at 10:00 going somewhere else. She's crazy.

Our bus was more of a mini-bus painted in primary school colours and Spanish for "Super Luxury" painted all over it. The signs lied, it wasn't super luxurious in the slightest, nor was the 6 hour ride. The bus quickly filled up. An old grandma with baby sat adjacent to Sean, or so we thought she was until she flopped her jugs out and started breast feeding. Other old women sat in the isles atop of huge bags of vegetables and meat. Others decided to air their large pots of llama milk. A couple of French Canadian Girls in front helped ease the pressure of overcrowding by sitting various kids on their laps. A combination of heat, bus movement and strange smells meant the babies and kids started puking and throwing up - adding to the wonderful sweaty bus fragrance. A 7 year old girl sat next to me. For lunch she bought some bread which went into a plastic bag. She ate the bread out of the plastic bag. She threw up the bread back into the plastic bag. The circle was complete. She then fell asleep on my shoulder, plastic bag of puke tightly gripped in hand. We were happy to finally roll into Potosi even though it's at an altitude of 3,800m.

Rather than sticking to Sean's Footprint guide book we were talked into staying at Hotel San Pedro for 30 Bs pppn (£2) by a geezer at the bus stop, it seemed a pretty central place. He flagged us down a taxi and told us and the driver that the hotel was to pay the fare (free transportation) and off we went. Potosi has a lot of narrow, one-way streets, is on the side of a dock off steep hill and we were driving up to the other side of town. We were grateful for the taxi. Note that no-one drives downhill, all drivers actively switch off their engines and coast downhill instead. Even if it's only for a few seconds. Sean and I convinced ourselves that it's a useless practice for short coasts, for surly they'd use more more fuel firing up the engine than what they'd save?

We arrive at the hotel, the receptionist doesn't want to pay for the taxi, he doesn't know what we're talking about. Luckily the taxi driver does so we let them both battle it out. The taxi driver wins. Wandering around town we book ourselves a tour of the mines for tomorrow (with the reputable Koala Tours) and eat at an Italian. They didn't have my first choice (Llama), they didn't have my 2nd choice (Cheeseburger) thankfully they had my 3rd choice (Hawaiian pizza). We find this happens a lot in South America. The pizza wasn't great, by contrast Sean & Monika's pasta was!

Returning to my tiny room I find it cold and the bathroom smells of sewage. Hmm.

21 Apr - Salar de Atacama :: Here Be Giants!

2007-04-21T00:24:00.000Z

Not only do I leave the Refugio in the morning but I also leave my pack towel and pajama bottoms. Doh! We drive out onto Salar de Atamama, the largest Salt Flat in the World! We motor at speed straight out onto it, this vast expanse of salt is flatter than Kate Moss's chest! Flat, white nothingness for as far as the eye can see. The venue of choice for land speed records! With such a perfect white background our driver introduces us to some crazy people perspective photos. So guess what we did for the next half hour!?

We speed on, apparently directionless towards a black dot on the white horizon. As we approach the black dot grows and manifests itself into Cactus Island. I bet you can't guess why? We pay something like 60p as an entrance fee and follow a trail around the island. From up high, on top you still can't see where the salt flat ends - it truly is huge!

We speed on across the faceless flat to the Salt Hotel. A small building built entirely from bricks of salt, even the tables, chairs and beds. As nice as it is Sean and I take more cool perspective photos.

A bit further on we observe mounds and mounds of salt being piled up by workers. This salt gets purified and ends up on your dining table!

We arrive at Uyuni and are given our first taste of a real Bolivian town. It's a dusty, desolate border town and is full of market stalls. Most (if not all) the women wear the traditional dresses and pinnies with long platted hair and a bowler hat (as stipulated by Spanish decree a few hundred years ago). We check into a hotel for the night, 70 Bs each (£5) for an en suite triple room. I change all my Chilean pesos into Bolivars and find an open cafe for dinner. I have me a beer and Llama Steak & chips. It was beautiful! We buy a bus ticket to Potosi for tomorrow morning, a 6 hour drive for 30 Bs (£2).

I receive some "interesting" news from home in an email which substantially wierds me out. I feel a need for lots of beer. As our jeep is still together we head out to Los Loco, a French bar! I loose a game of "Round the World" darts to Sean. I put it down to me drinking more than him. Then an American guy comes over and says "hello!" He knows me and I rack my brains to remember him... It's Blake, a geezer I met on my very first night in South America in the hotel in Caracas. We can't chat for too long as he has female company. He only has a couple more weeks to go before he flies home. Everyone leaves until it's only Anna and I left. We drink beer until the bar closes. We were hoping to find another late night bar for a couple more but it was not to be. Bed for 01:00.

20 Apr - Bums & Blockades

2007-04-20T23:41:00.000Z

We pile into the jeep, tall Sean riding shotgun again as it has the most leg room. As we leave the lodge we're pulled over. We have a flat tyre. "Right, everyone off the Jeep!" The driver changes the wheel and we're off. Before long the jeep begins to make funny noises and the suspension seems to bottom out a lot. We stop and look, the rear right suspension is not just broken but it's sheared right off the axel! "Right, everyone off the Jeep!" Not to worry, the driver ties it back on with a big elastic band! (A bit of bungy cord previously used to tie our luggage to the roof.)

The first sight of the day is The Stone Tree, a wee rock formation that looks nothing like a tree, not even if you squint! But there were other large rocky mounds that gave us lads a chance to try out our hand at rock climbing and show the girls what they're missing out on!

We stop at a couple of viewpoints, lagoons and volcanoes before stopping at a tiny village for lunch. I talk to the crazy woman much to the amusement of others. Her sentences change topic midway through and don't make sense. Either she should be on medication or she's stopped taking it. She's crazy.

Another hours ride and we find the road blocked. It's blocked by a large pickup truck parked across the dirt track (between the hillside and a river) and some 20 men and women sat around it, staring into space. They were demanding money as a contribution for repairing the road. I look around, they have 3 shovels between them and are just sat there twiddling their thumbs. It is nothing short of daylight robbery. We're not playing. The female leader scoffs when we tell her we have no money. She isn't amused either when we ask if they take Visa! The "workers" look menacing and they don't intend to budge so we turn around. Luckily there's another road through the valley so we quickly burn off before they have a chance to block that one too!

Further on, the middle of a desert plane, we slow for a "Stop" sign. Eh!? It looks very surreal, stood there in the middle of nothing. But it turns out to be a train track crossing.

We arrive at our Refugio just before dark, later than expected due to banditoes and jeep repairs. The place looks relatively new, tiled, clean and even boasts hot showers! Most of us take a shower and a quick walk around the village before dinner. It didn't take long, the village only consists of some 3 streets! The jeep had a small chat before lights out at 23:00. I pass out cold as usual and despite my bed being located next to the bathroom I don't hear any of the 18 night trips and slamming doors.

19 Apr - Lagoons & Crazy People

2007-04-19T01:48:00.000Z

Had a bit of trouble checking out of Hotel Elim as the woman wanted exact change which I didn't have. Luckily her hubby turned up with breakfast bread and change before we had to leave for our bus. We walked our bags into town and claimed seats on the large mini-bus, as did a few others including a thin German woman. She paced on the bus, paced off the bus, paced on the bus and all the while audibly swearing and muttering to herself in English. "Fucking Irish, I hate the fuckers. Better not be any fucking English speakers here. Shit, they're always too fucking loud." She sit restlessly at the back and to no-one in particular, "Shut up! Just fucking shut up before I stick my fucking foot in your mouth!" She's crazy, we ignore her. The bus fills up and we move off. A no-nonsense Swede sits next to her, "Where are you from?" he asks. "Fuck you!" "Well, fuck you too!" At the Chilean immigration we all line up to get our exit stamp. All except the crazy woman who paces up, down and around the buildings muttering to herself. We observe a wanted poster for Juan Pablo! That's like the Latin American equivalent of John Smith!

It's a 20 minute off road ride to the a mud hit, sorry, Bolivian immigration. It's 1,500 Chilean pesos to get in - I use up my loose change, hurah! Another 10 minutes and we're at the White Lagoon. Here we split up into groups of 5 or 6 as for the next few days we're in beat up Toyota Land Cruisers. Sean quickly grabs Kumi (a small Japanese girl) and Anna (a British Indian) so we don't get lumbered with the crazy woman. We are joined by Isabelle, a French woman. We're happy to have her aboard, she speaks fluent Spanish!

We cruise into the dessert and stop at the toxic copper Green Lagoon, through the Valley of Salvidor Dali and arrive at some mud geysers. They were brilliant, nay, fantastic! Steaming holes of bubbling mud. Air escaping out of one pit sounded like a jet engined aeroplane standing at an airport, it was so loud it left a ringing in your ear. The smokey vapour wreaked of a sulphur eggy smell. But it was so cool watching large lumps of technicoloured steaming mud bubble and spit. Only the video clips can even attempt to do it justice. Back on the jeep for more Bolivian Pan Pipe music - Arriba, arriba!

We stop at some hot springs for a soak, it was truly bath temperature. The crazy woman makes us all ill by proving she doesn't believe in shaving her legs or underarms. Urgh! Lunch followed but I didn't eat much because I feelt queasy from too much sin (um, I mean sun), the hot soak and the altitude. I drank lots of Coke instead.

We stop at a small lodge overlooking the Red Lagoon for 16:30, we're to stay the night. 6 beds / 1 jeep per room. The beds were wooden slats with cardboard as the mattress / support. Soft they were not! We took a walk part ways around the mammoth Red Lagoon (containing the same pigment as carrots) to stalk some flamingos (a pun!), carefully avoiding the crazy woman. Veg soup, spaghetti with tomato & onion salsa for dinner. It's bed and lights out for 20:30. Everyone is fully clothed in sleeping bags under thick blankets. We expect it to get cold, some -8C cold.

18 Apr - Valle de la Luna

2007-04-18T21:51:00.000Z

In the morning we all booked a 3 day tour to take us out of Chile and into Bolivia and I farted about on the Internet until 15:00 when we got picked up for the Moon Valley Sunset Tour. We have the same van and the same goofy driver again. But first we visit Valle de la Muerte (Death Valley). Cool! The driver drops us off and we walk down from the view point to the bottom. Only we had to wait for a bus load of geriatrics to clear off before we could take some un-spoilt photos. Most of the path was soft sand, necessitating bare foot walking - nice!

After being picked up at the bottom we get driven into the Valle de al Luna National Park (another 2,000 entrance fee). They have this fantastic luxury looking toilet with a clean tiled floor and the urinal and the toilet bolted onto the wall of the mud hut. It looks so posh, clean and sanitary but yet so rustic at the same time!

We stop off to view The Three Maries, an un-interesting rock formation from a million years ago.

At the Valle de la Luna itself we're told that the best sunset views are from the top of a cliff, necessitating a ridge walk along this mighty sand dune. Sean sprints off in an effort not to miss sundown leaving Monika and I walking up with a retarded Brazilian guy. (Or maybe just all Brazilians sound retarded?) After we ditched him, it was barefoot time up the sand dune. We perched ourselves on the top of the cliff with Sean up and watched the sun set. It was good. And so was the sprint back down the sand dune afterwards!

In town we all went out for dinner at Todos Natural for Sean & Monika had heard they do good veggie food. I was just pleased we caught them at happy hour so I could order myself 2 Picso Sours for the price of 1 (= 1,000 pesos each) and a beer! The food was great and came out with amazing presentation. My chicken & noodles looked like a giant alien insect eating a rotting brain. So cool! The other meals followed suit and my pancake dessert with ice-cream & chocolate sauce was also amazingly yummy!

Sean & Monika went home, I did some Internet and on the way back I bumped into the 3 students. They had just arrived, I'm leaving tomorrow. We only have a quick chat in the street, they're tired and wish to go to bed. Bloody typical, I was quite up for another beer myself! We swap email addresses in case we're able to meet up at later date.

17 Apr - I'm in Hot Water!

2007-04-17T19:17:00.000Z

I began to get restless again in the early hours, not that it mattered as we all got up at 03:30 to be picked up at 04:00. Whilst talking about whether or not we'd have the same driver (who unfortunately has bucked teeth) and if we'd spot him in the dark, Sean remarks, "Well that smile would be hard to miss!" Indeed, we had the same van, same driver but different passengers; an older German couple and their student daughter, Elaina. It was a 2½ hour, extremely bumpy, drive up through the hills to get to the El Tatio Geyser Field (another 2,000 pesos entrance fee) at an altitude of some 4,200 meters!!! Phew! And at 06:30 it was cold, -8C cold! Brr...

The landscape was impressive, plumes of hot gas and evaporating steam rising into the air after being spewed out from the copious holes scattered all around the crater we were standing in. The white gas illuminated by the murky dawn light gave an impression of standing on another planet, or even a Hollywood set! As the sun rose we were able to make out multi-coloured mineral formations on the ground. Everywhere you stepped and walked the ground the bubbled and boiled under your feet. The water exits the ground at some 85C. Our driver made coffee and hot chocolate from a steaming pool next to the parked van.

I chatted to the Elaina, the German girl, for a bit. She felt queasy and unwell due to the altitude. I've always found girls with German accents very sexy. I put it down to watching too much foreign porn when I was younger! "Ooo, yah!" I consider getting a job in Germany on my return.

Next up was a hot mineral bath in a mud pool - good job I brought my swimming shorts! The water was warm, not hot as you might expect. But as you moved around you would find trapped bubbles of scalding air and jets of super heated water. It felt like you kept sitting under the hot water tap in a bath! Getting out of the pool was difficult, the air temp was still below freezing and the mild breeze didn't help either! Brr...

Having seen enough natural foaming mountains of scalding water we moved on and stopped at a small village called Machuca, population 30! After a quick wander around, the cafe opened with a stack of BBQ Llama kebabs, only £1 each! Mmm...

Moving on it was another 2 hours along the dusty and bumpy dirt track back to San Pedro. The dust was so much that Sean & Monika spent most of the journey breathing through their T-Shirts, using it as a filter. I didn't bother as I figured us Welsh, bred from good mining stock, are used to harsh conditions and made from sterner stuff.

To save money in the evening I was going to buy some eggs & bananas and eat at the hostel but I ended up scranning a cheese, ham & tomato omelet for £2.50 instead!

16 Apr - Salt Lake Town

2007-04-16T02:10:00.000Z

I wake up at 02:00 sweating my nads off. It's damn hot! Sean gets up for a pee, followed by Monika, followed by me. Only I hang about outside for 10 minutes to cool off. None of us can go back to sleep for sometime. I'm pleased I do because I start dreaming of a scientist on a naval ship who create 3 life forms by sucking the life force out the room of passengers. These lifeforms then start sucking the life force out of the crew, turning them into piles of sludge. The ship crashes on an island and is responsible for creating plagues of zombies. I later crash land on the jungle island on a spaceship and the rest of the dream is about me and my crew cracking zombie heads open whilst trying not to get bit and performing repairs at the same time. But then I wake up and have to do the dull and dreary, like wash and get dressed. Boring!

Today, Monika, Sean & I go on a Salt Lake and lagoon tour for the day. They start to get concerned with our ride turned up at the hostel some 35 minutes late after 08:00. First up was the Chaxas Lagoon in the Los Flamencos National Reserve which took a good hour down a dirt track to get to and a 2,000 pesos entrance fee. Our park guide, who didn't speak any English, led us (a group of 6) down a wide path around the salt lake. We were walking on the salt flat itself and the mini walls that lined the path were made from lumps of salt deposits that coated the floor. In Espanol the guide tried to explain the difference between Chilean, Andean and James Flamingos as they lined the lake and flew over our heads. Their bright red fringes really stood out, making them look very striking. The guide then scooped up some lake water in a large plastic spoon to show us what the flamingos eat - freaky giant swimming insects! The lake must contain billions & billions of them for there were hundreds in just the spoon scoop! Back at the visitor centre we were sat down to watch a video, which probably repeated everything the guide said but it had English subtitles it was all news to us!

Back in the van, down more bumpy dirt tracks to a couple of Salt Lagoons. As pretty as they were no-one thought they were anything more than scenic viewpoints and not worth the 2,000 pesos National Park entrance fee.

To while away the hours in the van we chatted extensively to an American girl who'd recently come out of hospital after contracting a facial bacterial infection on the side of her face and on her ear. Some scabby peeling skin was still left. Euw!

We arrived at a little local cafe for lunch, Sean & Monika strode ahead to pickup their pre-ordered veggie meals only to be told, "Solo Carne!" or "Only Meat!" They weren't happy but after discussion they made some omelets. For me it was a salad starter, meat & potato soup and tinned peach dessert. Next we got dropped off at Toconao with a population of 550. The only attraction was a quaint church tower in the town plaza.

In all it seems we didn't book a tour (with a guide) but rather a driver & van to haul us to the sights. All the other "tours" in town are the same.

Again, I leave Sean & Monika to cook their dinner whilst I head out for mine, I get some Internet in at the same time. I crave pizza, for it has to be cheaper than last night's steak. In my chosen venue the waiter assures me I want a medium pizza rather than an individual as they're only thin crust etc... So a medium Americano and a beer it is then. I score on my choice of beer, it's a bottled Pale Ale! Then the pizza arrives - a gigantic family sized flying saucer of a sausage pizza! I feel stupid for ordering such a monolithic slab and feel the need to eat 1 slice over half to justify myself. It was a little too much greasy sausage and I felt a little ill. Still, I justified myself and rolled home for 23:00 to find Sean & Monika passed out in bed.

15 Apr - Desert Incas

2007-04-15T02:10:00.000Z

It's the desert. The temperatures are extreme. It's freezing at night (literally) and boiling during the day. But bizarrely enough our room was really warm all throughout the night. I can't figure it out as it has no heating! I sleep well and wake early, much down some Quaker Oat cereal and go out into town with Sean & Monika. We book ourselves some tours on a buy 2 get 1 free basis, starting tomorrow for 30,000 pesos (£30). I change my £100 worth of Argentinian pesos into Chilean pesos. I was hoping to pop back into Argentina so see a few other places but my sudden bolt North put paid to that idea. I'm not really bothered, it's all been good.

Having the afternoon free we hire some mountain bikes off the hostel and venture out to find some Inca ruins. The bike feels light and flimsy and I'm convinced there's something wrong with it until I remember that the last bike I rode had a 750cc race engine attached to it! Sean used to be a serious mountain biker and can't help popping wheelies and bunny hops every 2 minutes. I would call him a show off, but I'd be doing the same if only I could!

Our first find were some caves! They were very cool, Sean and I venture in with a torch, find they keep going and going and go back to grab Monika - it's a must see! Together we reach the end, a large bore hole to the outside world. Monika was initially scared about the caving but admitted at the end that it was cool! The cave was spacious enough for us all to clamber through but had a couple of steep accents. A torch was required, it was dark. Very dark.

We carried on down the road until a river ran through it. (!) We walk along looking for a shallow place to cross (Sean & Monika are wearing socks and trainers). We don't find any but there is a jumpable spot. I carry the bikes over in my cool Tevas (I'm not bothered about getting wet) whilst they jump across. There is so much salt around it clings to all the grass and vegetation.

A bit further down we ditch the bikes, ascend up a hill and view the Inca ruins / archaeological site. A few tattered stone walls. We all agree it's not impressive in the slightest. Some guys in the Dune Buggies turn up, now they're impressive!

Cycling back this girl tears out of a side dirt track / drive way screaming, "Help meeee....!" with 3 large black street dogs barking and snapping at her heels. So Sean & I do and divert the interest of the dogs. No big deal. The girl was also on her way back from the ruins and took a wrong turn. She had a real nasty, bite mark on her calf where she'd been bitten under similar circumstances the day before. So for the journey back, inbetween fooling around and pulling bike stunts, Sean and I accompany the girl and shoo away any other passing street dogs. It was our good deed for the day.

The veggies stay in and cook whilst I venture out to find steak. I find a cosy place with an open fire in the middle and piano jazz in the background. I feel a bit of a chill and wish they'd close the main front doors. I look up and realise why they don't. It wouldn't make any difference if they did, they have no roof! I figure it was designed by a woman, they don't need a reason! The medium rare steak was nice but like everywhere in this tourist town, very expensive. 6,900 pesos for the steak and 1,800 for a beer.

14 Apr - Amigos @ San Pedro de Atacama

2007-04-14T01:53:00.000Z

I'm woken up by the bus assistant handing out sweet black tea and packets of mini chocolate cookies. A nutritious breakfast if I've ever had one! A few hours later we stop at a town and everyone gets off with their hand luggage. I follow suit even though it's too early to be at San Pedro de Atacama. Me and a Swiss guy are confused but it seems we're to switch buses even though we were both told there were to be no connections. Whatever! The next bus had no air con, was stifling hot and the fan was like having a hairdryer in your face. My watch notched up 35C. Everyone looked unconformable.

We drive through a nothing desert land and stopped at a few bus stations at western looking towns with no signage, leaving me and the Swiss guy wondering if we'd arrived yet. Nope, nope and nope. Then at 16:30 (25½ hours later) we stop in a dusty plaza surrounded by mud shacks with corrugated tin roofs, just off a dirt track in the middle of nowhere. We're here!!! This is it - San Pedro de Atacama at an altitude of 2,400 meters. Wow!

Whilst wrestling my bags of the bus driver some local woman approaches me and enquires, "Steve? Amigo Steve?" "Si," I reply suspecting. She hands me a hostel flyer. I turn it over, it reads simply, "Sean & Monika :) Amigo Steve." I look at the woman astounded that I've been met at the bus station in the middle of nowhere. She says, "Si, Amigo Sean y Monika aci Hostel Elim!" Cool!

Hostel Elim is more of a quaint rustic B'n'B, sharing facilities with the owners. It has rocking chairs, hammocks, tables and Sean & Monika! It's great to see them again. They've even bagged me a bed in their triple room! (I'm on the top of Monika's bunk.) We go out, buy some food, chat, drink and play cards. Generally catch up, it's been 3 months! It seems they told the woman (hostel owner) to look out for a man with a ginger beard. Eh! (Well, I haven't shaved since I started the Torres del Paine Circuit!)

13 Apr - Salida Santiago

2007-04-13T00:56:00.000Z

I get up, gorge myself on breakfast and pack. I'm bored of Santiago now - need to move on. I wish to go North to San Pedro de Atacama, the driest desert on Earth. Sean and Monika (who I missed in Valparisio) were heading there also. It's a 27 hour bus ride from Santiago. From the Tur-Bus website I note there is an expensive super deluxe executive coach leaving at 12:30 ish which I quite fancied (not quite ready for cattle class yet). I grab a taxi to the bus station. Only the know-it-all taxi driver says that at the station that I was going to, all the buses head South. For North I want a different station 10 minutes down the road. (I think I'm beginning to understand more Spanish!) So be it, I mean, what do I know right? Wrong. I miss my posh coach and get a standard (semi-carma) one at half the price for 26,000 pesos (£26) which leaves at 15:00. The coach is nice enough, except for a couple of the usual screaming, nauseating, smelly babies. Grr...

All the films and TV programs shown are in Spanish. But for films like Tokyo Drift, words aren't that important!

Sigh. From my stressful days in the wilderness I now feel quite rested.

12 Apr - Goodbye Isabella

2007-04-12T00:40:00.000Z

Isi flies back to Canada tonight so I take her out to a posh restaurant for lunch. It turns out to be an Italian and she's gobsmacked at the prices, although I thought £5 for a main meal was quite reasonable! The interior looked great and was full of business men in suits, not a woman in sight (well, except for mine!). We both went for Ravioli, mine being an extravagant Wild Boar in a creamy mushroom and red wine sauce. It was very good. That was followed by Isi's favourite hot chocolate at cafe Tomodachi and more delicious cake. (Creamy orange sponge - yum!) That gave Isi just enough time to pack before I took her to the airport for our last beer together. Sniff, sniff!

Arriving back at the hotel I notice a big stage up in Plaza de Armes - some sort of trainer promotion with people on treadmills, a sound system and "Chile 24" slogans plastered around a big timer. No idea what it was about but I took a photo anyway!

A hot dog completo with all the healthy trimmings and a beer completed my night. Oh, in the hotel I see Ali-G on MTV's Celebrity Deathmatch. Even though it was in Espanol I understand most of what he said, "Booyakasha!" It was cool, he went on a rampage ans started killing large portions of the audience with his bare fists! Bring it!

11 Apr - Cold Fish Guts

2007-04-11T00:14:00.000Z

The day starts off with Isi and I visiting the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes. Nothing much note worthy there except a large empty pitch black room with several stone / copper tablets lit up under individual spot lights at the far end. It was eerie as walking towards them you couldn't gauge distance nor see anything else in the echoy room. It was akin to approaching lost treasure in an Indiana Jones film! It was great! If I could read Spanish then I might even be able to tell you what it was all about. But tough, I don't so I can't! Then there were also some paintings of, essential, female genitalia but kaleidoscoped to make pretty flower shapes! Um, interesting.

For dinner we went to the Central Market. It's a mass of fresh fish stalls interwoven with cafes and restaurants specialising in... fish! Each place has at least one man outside whose job it is to harass passersby in an effort to entice them in. We were after a quiet meal so we picked one which looked like it could deliver the goods and sat upstairs - giving us views of the manic market below. Isi ordered fried fish, I a shrimp pie and a bowl of XXX Frio - a local speciality that Isi had heard a lot about. It sounded like a cold fish stew. It turned up. It was cold slimy fish gut spew. The bowl contained random, non-descript bits of sea creatures, dripping with goo and with the strongest, nastiest, fishiest taste I've ever had to endure. And it was fridge cold fresh. For all I know, it was probably even raw! Even the bits of Sea Urchin I spotted.

Then as we were sampling the fishy delights a man and his guitar struck up by the table behind us at volume. Nice. All in all it was just the quiet, tasty meal we wanted! Given time he stopped, the cold fishy slop was taken away and replaced with a hot shrimp pie. The pie was made of soft crumble but the sauce was still extremely strong fishy tasting. I could only suffer small bites at a time. Then a karaoke opera singer started up at the same table behind us (they were celebrating something). He gave it as much gusto and heart felt emotion as he could muster. Given the circumstances and his serious contorted face, both Isi and I couldn't look at him without bursting into laughter. I tipped him on the way out for he was good and as a means to apologise for our behaviour. I just wasn't what we wanted. We went back to a cafe in Barrio Bellas Artes to Isi could sample another hot chocolate and I could fill up on chocolate cake!

10 Apr - Viva Valparaiso

2007-04-10T01:01:00.000Z

Made it up in time for breakfast and ate it all. My appetite is still great (cereal, fruit salad, scrambled egg, bread buns, cake, cheese, coffee and fruit juice). Isi shows me how to make cheesy egg sandwiches - she's the idea person. There I meet Gale & David, an Australian couple from the truck. They've done the whole South America on a Dragoman truck in 7 months and are now going home.

Isi and I decide to take a day trip to Valparaiso, a coastal town whose port had massive importance before the construction of the Panama canal. It's supposed to look cool too! We took the Santiago Metro (underground) to the bus station which always excites Isi, they don't have them in Canada! A 2 hour ride and we're there. Valparasio bus station is in an industrial looking part of town. We wander around, blindly trying to find our position on the map (you have to walk west to get to the town centre) and blunder into a couple of markets where I discover Isi's true life love and Isi discovers "Peas"!!! So Isi buys a couple of kilos of peas in the pod to quaff and I some red grapes. The gluttony stops after ½ hour when she discovers worms in a few pods and I creepy crawlies in the grapes. So we wander into the town and fill our bellies at a Chinese restaurant instead.

Valparaiso is on a hillside and has a collection of mutant tram lifts to drag people to the top. We try a small steep one (Ascensor Concepcion) for a quite a pricey 500 pesos (50p). The top is a quaint residential area full of twisting passageways with cafes and Bed'n'Breakfasts. It seems we weren't the only people to think the Ascensor to be expensive as most houses had posters calling for a boycott due to the recent 150% price hike from 200 pesos to 500 pesos. Oops! Walking around I was struck by the vast amounts of colourful grafitti that littered all the walls and passageways. We even passed a work of art in the making with the artist busy beavering away. We had coffee at a cafe at the top of Ascensor Artilleria with spectacular views of the Technicolour port harbour below. (Isi had dared me not to order a beer!) We then sauntered back to the bus station and onto Santiago.

Due to the inefficiency of email we had missed Sean and Monika in Valparaiso, a couple I'd met in Canaima (Angel Falls), Venezuela. They too were still traveling around South America and happened to be in Valparaiso that very day.

In Santiago we went back to the local bar for more excellent Pisco Sours and got chatting to a very drunk rock couple who'd just come back from a concert. Well, Isi chatted Spanish, I just sat there grinning inanely. I do that best! That was followed by some snack food (beer and Espanola Tortilla) at a cafe next to the hotel where the entertainment was watching a very old, very drunk gentleman fall over. Isi rushed to his aid the first time fearing he was disabled. She didn't bother again!

9 Apr - Hot Chocolate

2007-04-09T00:51:00.000Z

It may be Easter Monday but this country doesn't seem to observe it - so everything's open. I can get laundry done! Ye hah! Unfortunately that leaves me with nothing to wear except shorts and a T-Shirt and it's not as hot as it was yesterday. In fact, there's a bit of a chill in the air.

For most of the day Isi and I wander around town looking at shops and strange coffee houses with girls in bikinis trying to entice you in! I wasn't really sure what they were about. If they advertised beer then I might have gone in for a look. I'm pleased to be taking the walking easy for I have a noticeable limp due to the bruised bones in my feet. They pain when I walk normally.

We stop off at Isi's favourite cafe (Cafe Tomodachi) for her favourite Hot Chocolate in the Barrio Bellas Artes area. It is hot milk poured over large lumps of real chocolate! Hmmm... I can picture all you girls salivating already!

We decide to eat late. In fact, too late. Everywhere's closed again! We only just manage to get last orders in a late night cafe.

8 Apr - Santiago, Pimp It Up!

2007-04-08T00:25:00.000Z

I move into Hotel Espana for it's cheaper at $40 US a night and it generally makes life easier. As an added bonus I get the Pimp room. It has red velvet wallpaper and curtains! It's a room built for L-U-R-V-E!!!

It's Easter Sunday and places and shops are closed so Isi and I visit Cerro Santa Lucia. It's on a tall hill and the hot sunny day makes it an excellent choice place to mill around for a few hours. It has lots of narrow steps and staircases that keep winding up and up in between Gothic architecture chiseled out of the rock. From the top you get to view the gigantic sprawl of Santiago snugly nestled in between the surrounding mountain ranges. Very nice.

In the late afternoon I head out for essential supplies (beer & wine!) and come across a Lady Di Hairdressing Salon. Not tacky in the slightest! On the way back I figure I'd best phone home and let Mum know I'm still alive! As a bonus my Bro was there too so we had a good natter about ice-climbing.

Finding a place to eat was a little tricky as everywhere was closed but we happened upon a Peruvian place whose food was excellent. Just coming in from time in the wilderness my appetite knows no bounds! Oddly enough the owners didn't seem to mind when a large wolf looking street dog followed us in and sat down next to the table.

7 Apr - I Love It When A Plan Comes Together!

2007-04-07T00:01:00.000Z

On handing my luggage to the bus driver I overhear the the person in front asking to be dropped off at the airport. I follow suit. Result! For the airport is some ½ hour outside of town. On arrival I find the place dead, virtually nothing it is open, so I chat to James, the other guy who was dropped off. He's Welsh, ginger, beared, talks like an RAF Squadron Leader and is heading to the Falkland Islands for a week. And why not? I break conversation when a guy graces the information desk. The ticket sales office opens at 11:30 - it seems my Spanish still sucks but only ish! I luckily find a phone card I bought some time ago and am able to phone Visa to both draw some cash and buy a plane ticket ($235 US - doh!), it leaves at 15:55. I celebrate and buy James a beer. The Internet place it closed at the airport so it's back to Spanish lessons on my MP3 player. The plane is delayed by ½ hour, I later find out it's because they loaded a comatose man on a stretcher on board, complete with a life support system and a personal nurse. I hope I've got the same insurance policy as him!

On the other side I exit to discover the Internet at Santiago Airport is also closed. Bummer, I don't know where I'm going! Santiago is massive and houses 1/3 of Chile's population - eek!!! I hazard a guess and blag a taxi to Downtown (or Centro) to a hotel with Internet for 10,000 pesos (£10). Another amazing taxi ride. This guy was swerving in between traffic on the motorway and flashing cars out of his way at over 180 kph! At one point he slammed on the his brakes in what felt like an emergency stop and spun the wheel to the right. There was nothing wrong, we were just exiting the motorway on a slip road! More of the usual red light running and we arrived at Victoria Hotel, downtown, a couple of blocks away from Paza de Armes - the heart of Santiago. For$60 US a night I had a lush double room. And as promised it had Internet. Isi had returned my email and was in Hotel Espana, just a couple of blocks on the other side of Plaza de Armes. "I love it when a plan comes together!" says Stevie with an A-Team Hannibal smirk. Now where's my cigar?

I pop over to Hotel Espana and drag Isi out of bed to go to a bar (she was a bit under the weather and having an early night). The truck was on it's last night in town and they were in a bar far away in a different district. The plan was to go meet them until we ended up getting wasted on some superb (and very cheap) Pisco Sours at a local bar. Whoops! Oh well, nevermind eh!? The truck maybe leaving tomorrow, but Isi is hanging around Santiago for a few days before flying back to Canada. Cool.

6 Apr - 11km in 2½ h to Camping Paine Grande

2007-04-06T23:21:00.000Z

Up, packed and out by 08:30 - it's 3½ hours to the catamaran at Camping Paine Grande that I need to catch to get back to civilization (for 11,000 pesos). Only I'm not sure what time it leaves, 12:30 I think. But as there's only one a day, should I miss it I've another night in a wasted tent and I would have squandered one of my previous good walking days. So I give it pace, lots of pace. Bones and feet hurt but I need to make the boat. I keep it going and make it in 2½ hours! Ye hah! I sit by the dock and eat the rest of my food as a queue forms behind me. I was the first one there. I was very impressed with the cat when it turned up, it looked like a bullet proof military gun ship and the twin diesel engines throbbed with a bass any club would be proud of!

At the end of the ½ hour ride across lake Pehoe we were met by a horde of buses to take us back into town. I settled into my empty Israeli bus and solemnly gazed out of the window into the sun. On exiting the national park I stuck two fingers up at the mountains; they didn't get me.

On the walk back to the Jewish commune I chat to a couple of Israelis who were on my bus. They didn't understand how / why I'm at Castle de Juan. "It's an Israeli only hostel!" they say. "It was!" I reply. "But, of course you are welcome, friend." I need to escape. I also need to get some laundry done, a massage, go out, be sociable, and get drunk. It's all been too long! But I'm informed it's Good Friday - every where's closed. Great.

I check when the Dragoman truck arrives in Santiago to see how many days I have to meet it. I have zero, it arrived today. I decided in the park that given half a chance I'd meet up with Isi and the truck. So despite feeling shattered I scour the town for Internet and make a plan. I book myself on a bus back to Punta Arenas for first thing in the morning (for 3,000 pesos - £3) whose airport has several flights a day to Santiago. I email Isi to say I'm on my way and to ask where the hell she is! Over a big meaty mixed grill I muse over the possible downfalls of my plan: No flights on Easter Saturday, not able to buy flight with my stupid Visa card and Isi may not reading her email before she flys home. It's perfect, nothing can go wrong!

I return my broken tent to Erratic Rock. Bill, the ex-army drill Sergent, wasn't happy I broke it and wanted retribution. But as it was given to them for free and they could fix it, I was let off. I go back to the commune to pack for tomorrow.

5 Apr - 3 Words :: Vertical Glacier Ice-Climb

2007-04-05T01:25:00.000Z

Everyone assembles in the hut behind my tent for 09:15 and are given a waterproof day bag (Black Diamond) containing a cup, harness and crampons. Cool! The food and rest last night seem to have worked, I practically walked out of my tent without limping! There's a boat which does a mini tourist cruise twice a day, departing from much further down the lake. We use this to hitch a lift over to the Grey Glacier in the morning and back to land again in the evening. The firm has a rib which they use to ferry us Ice Hikers on and off the Grey II vessel. Boarding it I felt like a pirate. Rape, pillage, rampage! Or just sit there and admire the pretty floating ice-burgs!

We land on a rock and are given our ice-axes... cool! A bit further and we don our harness and crampons... cooler! With 12 huge spikes protruding out from the my feet (espically the 2 that stick straight out the front) I feel all set for a game of football! Once we're suited and booted we're led out onto the ice for a few Mickey Mouse lessons on safety walking for any would be American tourists. There's no self arresting on the glacier because if you don't stop within 2 seconds, it's too late. Instead they assume we're going to slide to the bottom and it's a rescue mission from there on in. Hence we all wear a harness.

Far from the flat ice-rink I was expecting the glacier is full of hills, bumps and deep crevasses. The surface isn't smooth but pitted, uneven and crunchy like a meringue. The Grey Glacier as a whole is literally a river suspended in time and the part we were on was less jagged and more undulating. Apparently the reason being, we were behind a large rocky island and walking on the still, calm, Eddie that forms downstream of it - just like what you get on a river! We were taken to some different formations like deep crevasses and waterfalls before we saw and went inside some ice caves and tunnels! It was awesome! There are rivers and streams constantly flowing in and through the glacier. And the blue hues and colours are mind boggling. Apparently the glacier looks blue because that's the only colour that has enough energy to escape the ice (blue is the highest visible frequency).

Then it was time for the Coup de Grace. We were led to the bottom of a 3 story crevasse whilst the guys got busy chiseling and anchoring belays on the top. Time for a vertical ice climb up the glacier! What a treat! Ice-axes were the weapon of choice. Minimal instruction - just get up there and give it go. Brilliant! T-Bone, get jealous!

I blagged dinner at the Refugio again and ate with the lesbians. Only one of them, I swear, kept rubbing my leg with her foot! Unfortunately for her, she was tired from the days activity and had to retire to bed early. I wandered back to my tent a bottle of wine later, unzipped the front and... Crack... Donk! One of the poles snapped, crumpling the front of the tent. Great! At least it wasn't windy and the elastic held the two halves together. Pleased it was to be my last night camping I left it as it was, crawled inside and passed out cold as usual.

4 Apr - 10.0 km in 4 h to Camping Grey

2007-04-04T18:06:00.000Z

Up, packed and out by 11:00 - a lot later than I wanted. I still feel drained with no energy and hobble along. I think I've bruised a few bones in my feet, they kill! I'm pleased I have an easy day today. I reach Campamento Guardas and stop for lunch. It turns into a feeding frenzy! I eat 3 (not 2 but 3!) tortillas with cream cheese, 2 biscuits, some fruit & nut mix (usually reserved for breakfast) and a toffee mint! I must be starving!

For the past week I've been wearing a neoprene ankle support on my left ankle and it's worked wonders to settle the pain I'd been feeling. But for the past few days I've been crippled by a different pain on the heel. I decide to take it off... and instant relief! It seems the bruising had been caused by the support seem digging into my heel with the tight boots.

During the past week I've passed a lot of people on the path (well, on the W) and I access their looks, decide if they're British / American / Native English Speaker (usually rather easy) and greet them with either a "Hello!" or a "Hola!" Now what bugs me is that every single person I've passed greets me with "Hola!" I mean, do I look Spanish? For some reason it's really beginning to grate.

I literally stumble into the Camping Grey campsite. Despite my huge lunch (compared to other days) I have no energy. I set up home and grab a hot shower (well, a hot dribble!) and exit reborn! I no longer smell like a homeless person! This campsite is back on the tourist W trail so stuff is open. I pitch up in a cool spot - on the edge of a dirt beach overlooking the lake and gigantic floating glacier chunks. It was cool until some Americans decide to pitch up in front of me. Cheers.

I stick to my original plan which is to go on an Ice Hike on the glacier tomorrow and book myself in with Big Foot Adventures for $135 US. My plan also allows me to eat an evening meal at the refugio to give me energy for the ice hike. I wanted to be self sufficient for the circuit and as there's only a 3½ hour leg left, which I could stagger right now if I needed to prove myself, I've practically completed my original goal.

Booking so late (17:44) I was lucky to be fitted into a second 20:00 dinner seating. Dinner (after my usual dried noodles!) was pea soup, pork chop and cream potatoes, salad and tinned apricots for dessert. Lovely. Washed down with a couple of beers of course! I got talking to Liz and Claire who (forgive my sweeping first impressions again) appeared to be a couple of middle aged lesbians. Liz had been working at a research station in Antarctica for the past 18 months, stabilising the stilt legs on the all the buildings. Working as a chippie in the UK she said she found the job advertised in the paper! They both should be joining me on the Grey Glacier tomorrow.

3 Apr - 12.0 km in 6 h to Campamento Paso

2007-04-03T17:08:00.000Z

Up at 09:00 and as well as my usual morning routine I also wash feet and socks in the freezing mountain river. Then I walk back to Glacier Los Perros to take some pics - it was too dark to see it last night. I finally leave the campsite at 12:00. Man, my feet hurt. I can do nothing but hobble, nay, limp along. Yesterday I gave it my all - practically jogging along for hours on end. Today I'm drained and exhausted - I have no energy. Every step, uphill, downhill or on a flat takes a huge amount of effort. I am slow, real slow. And today is one of the hardest days on the circuit, up and over the mountain. Still, I take baby steps - lots of them. I figure if I do that, I have to make it eventually! And I'm right, visible progress is slowly made.

I drag myself up and over the John Gardner pass and Wow, Wow, Wow! Look at that! Wow! On the sunny horizon looms snow capped mountains, looking like an idealistic ski-resort. A few steps forward and I see a glacier winding it's way down between them. The next few steps reveal the giant Grey Glacier river flowing along at the foot of the mountains below me. I'm compelled to sit and stare right there on the spot. The landscape is stunning. I've never seen anything like it it before. As I try to take it all in I realise that I'll probably won't see anything like again either for I'm viewing the vast glacier from above. Whereas the norm is to view it from below - or even on it. I stagger forward out of the wind and take a lunch break.

Even after lunch I have to stop and stare every few minutes. As the sun sinks it highlights ripples of crevasses set deep in the ice. I'm watching a river literally frozen in time. It's spellbinding. I hit trees again, they obscure the glacier view. Now it's down, down, down. A serious amount of straight down. (Jez, I think your knees would have suffered! Mine did!) The glacier popping out into view every now and and again during breaks in the tree line. I stagger into camp for 18:00. The trails for the past few days have been great! Proper wilderness tracks with no people. Not like the front W trail which was a well groomed gravel tracks harbouring a large population.

Today marks my 3 month travelling anniversary. It's a milestone because I always estimated I'd be away for 3 - 6 months. It means I can go back to the UK at anytime and not be seen to be wimping out! More Irish Coffee (+ some neat whiskey) to celebrate.

Hey, not only do I look like a homeless person but I smell like one too! The American and 2 German girls made it here too. One of the German girls spends the night with a Park Ranger in his little lodge on the campsite. When you're camping, there are no secrets! I fall asleep wondering what qualifications I'd need to become a Park Ranger.

2 Apr - 27.2 km in 10½ h to Camping Los Perros

2007-04-02T16:30:00.000Z

Morning routine :: Change back into daytime smelly clothes, mend feet, pick nose, make porridge, pack tent, make coffee for Thermos, pack pack. It all takes 2 hours. I leave at 10:00 before the Poles. I expect them to overtake me before long - they have trekking poles and look the business.

The sheep trail path takes me around and through the lakes! It's bonkers. I really didn't want to start wading through freezing mountain rivers!

I climb a hill and turn a corner and woah! I get blasted with 65 mph winds (as measured on my Windmaster watch)! It's so strong I can't walk along the path. Instead I have to lean forward down the hill at an obscene angle as if I was abseiling and side step along the path like a crab! It's brilliant! My eyes were constantly streaming water as the wind perforated my eye sockets. I've not experienced much like it before. I try shouting. My voice carried about a foot and half away, if that!

After walking the wind tunnel I powered on around the fantastic lake scenery on the lovely clear day. I reached the Dickson Refugio in good time (5 ¼ hours). It's dead. Very pretty but very closed and very dead. No sign of the Poles - I've seen no-one all day. I have lunch until 16:00 and decide to carry on for another 4 hours to the next camp site. It's good weather, clear skies and dry. If I'm going to push the boat out on any day and compress another 2 days walking into 1, today's the day. For the next few legs get substantially harder. As it'll be dark by the time I finish tonight and no-one knows I'm here, I leave a note for the Poles as an insurance policy. I feel a need to increase my insurance premium!

The next 3 hours is a fantastic woodland trek through thick forest. The ground is a mass of dead wood and logs, as is the canopy. Dead trees lie twisted and contorted from the wind, holding each other up in precarious canter lever positions. As cool and creepy as it is - it all looks the same and after a couple of hours there is no measure of progress. All you can see is dense woodland. It's not quite Blair Witch ("I've seen that tree before!") but it's not far off! All this time I'm speedily powering along like a stream train, trying to make the most of the fading daylight. I keep myself occupied by thinking about what little boys think about the most! (Nope, not Monster Trucks this time!)

Dark comes, the head torch comes out and now, where'd that path go? Is that a foot print in the mud? Have people been here before? Does that patch of gravel look more worn down than that other patch? Is that a red marker dot or just an orange stone? All these details are really hard to make out by torch light - it gives no definition. I had to back track a couple of times to get back on the right trail.

Working my way round a glacier lake I begin to wonder if I had overshot the campsite - 'cos if it wasn't obvious, I wasn't going to see it! Then a torch light in the distance gave me a destination to head for. Success, 2 German girls and an American in the closed (again!) campsite. They were as surprised to see me as I was them! This last leg look them over 6 hours in daylight - I did it in under 4! I rock, I rule! The girls weren't impressed. Regardless, I had Irish Coffee to celebrate.

1 Apr - 19.6 km in 9¼ h to Camping Seron

2007-04-01T19:26:00.000Z

Up at 05:15 and on the trail for 05:45. This takes a lot of motivation on your own I can tell you! The second half I decide to do without torchlight. I loose the red spray painted dots on the rocks that mark the trail but I figure as long as I climb up I can't go far wrong. Then, the Torres present themselves as I reach the top of the ridge for 06:30. Fantastic! It was a hard slog but I made it! Only there's nobody there. Unusual, I'm not usually the first person to a viewpoint. So I walk for 15 minutes to the end of the ridge, navigating strong winds and near vertical drops expecting to happen upon some people. But still, nobody there. Oh well, I walk back to take some photos of dawn over the valley horizon. It's only as I start my decent that I notice groups of people hanging about some distance below. Arr, that would be the official viewpoint I overshot then! So I descend on the onlookers from above, much to their confusion. "Where have you come from?" quiz one couple. "Wales!" I cheerfully respond!

Back at camp I need a new strategy to packing my rucksack - I'll be picking up more food later and currently it won't all fit in. So I externalise my twin dry bags and stuff the tent in the main pack. Enter Twin Torpedo Subsonic Rocket Man Stevie! My pack now looks cool, so different to anybody elses. I feel like an Action Hero! I keep yanking the dangling straps behind my back expecting the Nitro Boosters to kick in and propel me up the hill. They don't but I keep yanking anyway, just in case! I find my new twin turbo packs distribute the weight a lot better. The pack feels lighter and I power down the hill.

I'm pleased to note that despite being days into my trip and trekking under load I'm still mighty cool and looking super sexy! (See inset.)

I coin a phrase - Day Walkers (stolen from Blade) and I loathe them. They're people on a day trip to see the towers, bounding up the hill with nothing but a day pack or a water bottle, complaining about the lack of facilities the mountain has to offer and marveling at how the weather is always gorgeous in the park. I just want to drop my 20 Kg pack on their heads and kick them in the river to simulate spending all day in the rain. We'll see how well they cope then! Worse still are the Day Walkers with trekking poles, striding on superiority because they're faster! Grrr... I hate them all!

Down at Las Torres I get annoyed, tired and angry that the Refugio is a long way away from the main complex and isn't signposted. Grrr... Anyway Rosie and Matt are there, waiting for the bus. They've just finished the W trek. Matt saw the towers last night and also went the wrong way up the ridge! In the Refugio reception I show the man a photo of my food cache (box) and he retrieves it for me. Result! I grace the AMA charity with 4,000 pesos (£4) for keeping it for me and wonder how I'm going to pack the extra 6 Kg!

A sparkly clean, whiter than white, fresh American couple in reception were horrified to receive their first experience of a foreign country outside of a 5 star hotel. "What!? There's only one connecting boat across the lake a day? We can leave our bags but there's no-one to take responsibility for theft whilst we're out walking? And what do you mean you won't or can't tell us what the weather is going to be like for the next few days?" They look at me and seem horrified. I look homeless. I smell. The receptionist laughs - I'm their typical customer.

The original plan was to stay at Las Torres for the night and consume the 2 bottles of Pale Ale and the ¼ bottle of 12 year Chevas Regal whiskey. But it's only 14:00 and in only 4 hours I could fit 2 days worth of walking into 1! Hmm... I load up, decanting the whiskey into a plastic bottle. I'm carrying the heaviest rucksack ever! Still, I set off in good spirits at 14:30 in the sun shine. Come 15:00 it rains again! Great.

I have a good stride until the last hour where my shoulders really being to ache. Damn the pack is bleeding heavy. I've started the un-popular trek round the back of the circuit and there's a noticeable lack of people. In fact, the only people I see are a Polish couple who overtake me 10 minutes before reaching the camp site. It's cold, wet, muddy and it's only the thought of a hot shower, a warm shelter and XXX that keep me going. I arrive. The camp site is closed. No facilities. The Poles are just happy they don't have to pay the camping fee! Then they start slapping themselves in some bizarre Bavarian dance cum Monty Python sketch. I found it quite amusing for a whole 2 minutes until I too was set upon by the hordes of mosquitoes! 1000s and 1000s of them! If I kept my hand still for 10 seconds, 3 mosquitoes would descend upon it and start sucking up blood. We both set up home as fast we could and dived inside our tents. I had reason to believe that the camp site wasn't closed but the owners were eaten alive and their corpses were still rotting inside! I drink my beer and count the number of mosquitoes clamouring to get in through the mesh on the door. It averaged 8 per square foot.

31 Mar - 19.7 km in 8¼ h to Campamento Torres

2007-03-31T18:54:00.000Z

I'm up when my alarm goes off at 08:00. Despite the wind it's still a warm and beautiful clear morning. I can even see the mountains behind me for the first time! After porridge, packing up, etc I leave at 10:30. At 11:00 it starts to rain. Bloody typical! The whole day is rainy showers interrupted by spells of sun shine.

As I start to climb higher into Valle Ascencio I appreciate the walk more - the views of the valley below and the mountain range behind me are spectacular. The talk of walkers (including Matt & Rosie, an outdoorsie American couple) is a river crossing with no bridge in heavy wind. Strangely enough, I didn't perceive it a problem and simply hopped over. They also kept being blown over in the high winds. I admit I lost my balance once.

After the hard hike uphill to Camping Chileno I realise I have another 1½ hours to Campamento Torres. It's a free campsite with no facilities but where I can base myself for the 1 hour accent to see the Torres (towers) for dawn tomorrow morning. It's a nice woodland trek, even with the bleeding heavy rucksack! The campsite is a lovely picturesque woodland reserve with a stream running through it. All the girlies say, "Arrr..." As the night draws in I begin to feel tired...

30 Mar - 13.1 km in 5 h to Camping Los Cuernos

2007-03-30T18:24:00.000Z

Up at 09:30 to try out my Brekkie (porridge with milk powder, sugar and fruit & nut) - it's good! Then I have to put my tent away - it's still raining hard, everything's wet and cold. I score some 4 pegs off the camp site owner for free. Result! (I only lost the 1 giving a net result of +3) I'm finally ready to leave at 11:00. Most people stay in the kitchen, no-one wants to leave or endure the adverse weather. No-one except me!

I arrive at Campamento Italiano in a very soggy state. Decision time. Am I to endure hardship to Campamento Britanico (part of the W) or continue round the circuit? If I went to Britanico I'd have to camp there but a couple who'd just day tripped there said it's a mud pool with a torn and tattered tarpaulin shelter exposed to extreme wind. Given last night, I feel my tent wouldn't last and I'd get hypothermia. Also looking at the map and planning ahead (who, me?) if I continue round the circuit there's a chance I'll get to see the Torres at dawn - one of the main reasons for being here. Everyone else I speak to have / are skipping it too or are buggering out of the park completely - they can't take it anymore! What sold me the decision to continue round the circuit was another couple who said, "You can't see anything up there, but it's sooo beautiful!" Frigging Tree Hugging Hippies.

So I bug out of Campamento Britanico and round the lakes I go. I'm not impressed with the trail. It's a manicured gravel path and the scenery isn't that impressive. Maybe it's the bad weather or the bleeding heavy rucksack but I find the walk a bit dull.

Camping Los Cuernos is a little bit of paradise. As I approached the skies cleared and the wind became warm - 24 deg C warm! The wind was still there, but warm! Perfect drying weather and dry it did - my tent, my sleeping bag, my clothes, my stuff, all dry! Plus I'm able to pitch up in the shelter of trees. Using all my pegs and huge boulders to keep them pegged in I build me a rock solid home. I' m well impressed! I'm even able to get a hot shower at the Refugio. It's all good!

Then during the night comes the wind. Boy'O'Boy is there wind! And it's not me either! These gusts were a blowin' and a howlin'! They flattened a couple of tents but not my rock solid effort! Next morning, wind was the talk of the camp site.

29 Mar - 17.1 km in 5 h to Camping Paine Grande

2007-03-29T17:31:00.000Z

Up at 07:00. I didn't sleep at all. Even I'm worried about this little adventure! I booked the bus for 07:30 with the hostel last night. When it turned up it was largely empty, leaving plenty of room for my oversized back pack and my box of food. The bus was old, shabby looking, lacked any power whatsoever and really struggled up the meager hills during the 2½ hour ride. That might account for the driver having his foot permanently stamped down on the accelerator. For everywhere but the hills he was taking straights and corners far too fast for any ones comfort!

A couple of nice Israeli girls on the bus try to talk me into trekking with them on the W trek. But I can't have couple of flouncy females, no matter how attractive, deter me from fulling my destiny :: The Full Circuit - Solo & Self Sufficient!

On entering the park I pay my dues (15,000 pesos - £15) and see the while Mercedes Sprinter van marked Las Torres. I tip the driver 300 pesos and he takes my food cache. With a bit of luck I'll see it again in 5 days.

I stay on the bus until CONAF Administration (on Lago del Toro) - I'm the only one on the bus! Today I'm doing an extra leg on top of the circuit. (Crazy, I know!) I remember being told the views on this leg are fantastic and unlike anything else I'll see on the trip, but only if the clouds are high and the sky clear. I put my coat on in the CONAF front porch amidst rain, drizzle and thick low cloud. Hmm. Too late now! Hey, you never know, it may clear up!?

I set off at 11:30 with my bleeding heavy rucksack (which must weigh at least 15 Kg easy) - then turn back again. No wait, this way. I stop, take the pack off and dig out my map. Where the hell is the start of this bleeding trail!? With the help of the map and a park ranger I find it, 5 minutes down the road in the opposite direction to where I want to go! Come 12:00 I've begun The Circuit.

The walk is no different to wandering the hills in a wet 'n' windy Wales! I wonder why I left! I stop for lunch at Campamento Las Carretos - a wooden sign and an open backed wooden hut (shelter). 2 tortillas and pork pate. Yum! I also scramble to Rio Grey to take some much needed water. I try out my stove for the first time and make coffee for my Thermos. It works!

An Irish couple, Frankie and Don, are staying there the night. They recognised me from the Ushuaia bus! But being made form sterner stuff I soldier on for another 3 hours to Camping Paine Grande - a place on the official circuit! Not the usual starting place mind. I am doing this somewhat differently to everyone else! It's windy, cold, damp, 17:30 and I decide to stop so I can set up my first camp in daylight.

In the shelter / kitchen an Irish couple, Rachael & Michael, seem keen to meet me and intent on plying me with Red Wine! They had a crap camping night last night at Glacier Grey whereby the wind destroyed their tent. For tonight they've borrowed one form the campsite owner and have a need to get drunk. It's a good conversation which takes us back to their tent for more wine. I'm waxing lyrical about Guyana and the Jungle again. It seems I still haven't got it out of my system.

I retire to my tent but wake up feeling cold. Later still I wake up with the tent collapsing around my head - the wind is howling. I try to ignore it (I'm knackered) but am forced to get up, take action and re-peg a few. I'm several pegs short. Later still, with the rain and wind battering the tend around me, I wake up cold again. Only this time I'm already wearing all my clothes. I think back to last night in town when I was wandering about in a T-Shirt. Not now, the weather is officially crap!

Goodbye!

2007-03-28T21:35:00.000Z

Hello - this is a short "interim" blog spot just so you all know were I died if you don't here from me again (!)...

I'm just about to attempt the Circuit of Torres del Paine, on my own. Oer! Some people do a day drip to the park, fewer do the 4/5 day W trek, even fewer attempt the whole 8/9 day circuit and definitely even fewer attempt this alone! Ooer!

I've bought a shed load of un-nutritious food, rented a small 2 man tent, bought gas, a stove, mess gear, hat and gloves. The rest I hope I already have. (I'd better have, all the shops are closed now!) Only the bare assassinates are to be taken.

There should be sun, rain, hail and snow! Could be worse... um?

For those of you who may be concerned that I don't know what I'm doing - don't worry, I'll put your mind at rest by spelling it out - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!

I hope to make contact again in 10 days-ish... no promises!

Right - I gotta go and get my last meat fill for the next 2 weeks at a restaurant before they close too... I leave first thing tomorrow.

This is Stevie, signing off.

Steve Eynon
21:30 28th March 2007
Hauns Hostel
Magallanes Street
Puerto Natales
Chile

28 Mar - Puerto Natales

2007-03-28T01:06:00.000Z

I visit a couple of adventure places but their treks don't start until April (tourist season is over see). They cost a fortune and I don't want to waste my time. I find out about a free talk on trekking the park on at the Erratic Rock Hostel at 15:00. The guy talks like an ex-army drill sergeant.

Q. "Hey Bill, if I want to start here, then walk here, pop over there and end here in a day, what do you think? Can I do it Bill? Can I huh?"
A. "I don't know. I've not walked with you before, I don't know how fit you are, what exercise you do or what your pain threshold is!"

Q. "Does it get cold Bill? Does it huh?"
A. "I don't know, some people get colder than others. I'm fat and hairy, I'm a bear, I don't get cold!"

But you can only camp at designated campsites, the paths are well trodden and clearly marked. All I need is a tent, food and a stove - easy! The afternoon and early evening then turns into a mad scavenger hunt for all my stuff before the shops close at 20:00. All in all, I'm like a mad hectic dog running around from 12:00 to 21:00. I can't settle, I'm concerned about the trip I start tomorrow. I've never done anything like it before. On my own! For 10 days! This feels like the stupidest thing I've ever done!

My left Achilles heel still pains from the Glacier walk in Ushuaia! ( I injured it during an impromptu 8 mile run home from the pub in Australia, October last year.) Though I did pick up a neoprene support for it. I go out to write my last blog entry and for a slap up meat meal (sausage, lamp chop and 4 beef grill steaks). At the restaurant I try my first Pisco Sour (a local drink) - it tastes like a Whiskey Sour made from moonshine!

Back at the hostel it's back to wearing my Dog Tags in preparation! I see this as a mental as well as a physical challenge - I mean, I'm on my own! I think I'm bonkers! Why am I doing it? I start packing at midnight and finish at 03:00. The bus / coach I ordered arrives at 07:30.

27 Mar - The Rocket Boat

2007-03-27T23:46:00.000Z

Up at 06:30 to wait for the penguin taxi at 06:50. 06:55 and no taxi and no-one at reception. Fearing I'll miss the boat (as I don't know the set up) I have to ring the doorbell to wake someone up! "It'll be here in 5 minutes," he says as phones his Bro to come pick me up. When it does, it goes 2 blocks down the street and drops me off! I could have walked that in 3 minutes! I'm bundled into a mini-bus with others and it's only then do I ask where everyone is going. "To see the penguins!" is the right answer I was looking for. After ¾ hour we stop off at a jetty in the middle of nowhere - no civilisation, just road, this jetty and and a really cool, wicked looking space rocket of a boat moored to it! Yeah baby, yeah! And yes, it is the one we board too - Awesome!

On the way to Magdalena Island (where the penguin colony is) we all took it in turns to sit through the front hatch whilst we were bombing along. Magdalena Island is bigger than I expected - more than just a rock and it has a rope path leading you to a lighthouse and back. All the while you're surrounded by Penguinos! (I love that Spanish word!) The wind is ferocious and I realise that if the upcoming Tour of Pain (trek around Torres del Paine) is going to be anything similar then I'll need a hat and gloves. We only get 1 hour on the island (½ hour less than normal) due to impending bad weather.

We motor over to an island of Sea Lions but stay on board and watch them from the boat. Then we undertake one of the coolest and most exciting boat rides I've ever been exposed too. And for 1½ hours back to the jetty too! The bad weather came, the swells and waves rose and I should have figured something was up when the crew donned waterproof seal skins and goggles! This boat can fly! And fly it did as it constantly lept from the crest of one wave to the crest of another, giving back breaking jarring thuds on every impact. My stomach constantly felt as if it was on a roller coaster ride. The blokes all loved it, the girls wished it would stop and all the while there was this fat midget sat at the back of the boat laughing non-stop. It was like a really bad horror film! Bizarre! But like all good things it had to come to an end.

When I got dropped off back in town I went in search of, and bought some cheap fleecy gloves and a beany hat. Required. I buy a bus ticket off the hostel to Puerto Natales for 6,000 pesos (£6). It left at 15:00, took 3 hours and was un-exciting.

An email from the Israelis tell me they're at Hauns Hostel. I try to get a taxi there, only the driver had to make several phone calls before finding it (bear in mind Puerto Natales is only small). This hostel place has no signs, a locked front door and when I go in to ask where I am, nobody would tell me - it's all hush hush. Until someone pipes up, "Oh, you're the English guy that Elaina said was turning up!" Then it's all, "Friend this," and "Friend that," and "Come in friend, you're welcome." (Everyone is called "Friend" here.) It turns out I'm in a Israeli Commune for Jewish people. I'm not Israeli and I'm not Jewish but it all seems OK once they know this outsider has been vetted by someone who is. I think I'm the first non-Israeli Jew to stay there. People don't seem entirely comfortable with it, I stick out like a sore thumb. They all stare at me and call me that, "English guy." All the signs and posters are in Hebrew. (Like I have enough trouble with Spanish!) They have Israeli flags on the walls. I feel like I've penetrated some strange religious cult. Still, I'm in a twin room for 3,000 pesos (£3) a night!

The Israelis (Mark and the girls) plan to start a 4 night camping W trek tomorrow - it's too soon for me. I need to acquire a tent and food and shops are beginning to close already. I Internet and all the guided tours (usually foreign) cost around $1,500US - Woah! That's like, really expensive! My room mate, Guy, has just come back from doing most of the "The Circuit" with a few others. He says you camp at designated campsites and the trails / paths are in good condition and well marked. The Circuit as a whole takes some 10 days. The more he talks (like it's only $100US for food and tent hire) the more I get a really stupid idea in my head!

26 Mar - Punta Arenas

2007-03-26T23:00:00.000Z

Up before 05:00 to walk with the Israelis to the bus stop (a random street corner). The driver doesn't care that I don't have a ticket and tells me to get on the bus anyway - I happily oblige! I'm leaving, I'm leaving!!! We change buses at Rio Grande at 08:30 where I'm told to walk into the ticket office to buy a ticket. I follow the Israelis to Punta Arenas for 105 pesos, there are penguins there! The Chilean border police have cool playful dogs and they search the cargo hold looking for a bit of smelly old rope the police hid there!? Then they get us all to drag out our bags for an individual search - they find nothing.

We take the ferry across the Strait of Magellan into Chile, but this time no dolphins. We get ousted at Punta Arenas in the late afternoon and there's a mini-bus from a hostel waiting for it - credit to them and their initiative. For 3,000 Chilean pesos a night, we take it! It's called the Blue Hostel and seems to operate in a weird way. i.e. their flyer advertises a Fire Alarm - like, Wow! No locks, just padlocks everywhere. Basic bathrooms and us 4 in the 1 room. We head out for cash (I go through my usual hassle of phoning Visa first, need to pay for the phone call in US dollars 'cos I haven't got any Chilean cash yet!)

Later we head to a duty free shopping zone so the Israelis can buy some camping stuff (coats, gloves, pots and pans) for Torres del Paine. I just buy a combination lock for my main pack. Figured it's about time I had one! I set the combo to 666 - it should keep my stuff safe from all those thieving Jews! They cook us all some chicken - only it turns out to be a prehistoric turkey instead - mega tough! Bed for 01:00.

25 Mar - Bollocks, Lets Get Bollocksed!

2007-03-25T18:18:00.000Z

Beep, beep! Beep, beep! Beep beep! It's 06:47 and my watch alarm goes off. I need to be at the Travel Agents for 07:30 to catch the bus. I'm confused as to why the Israelis aren't up and about for I was sure they too left that morning. I sit up and double check the time, 08:42. Bollocks, it can't be. I check the alarm again, yep, it's set for 06:47. I get up and check the clock down stairs, 08:44. Bollocks. I've missed my bus. I must have passed out for a few hours. I'm trapped in Ushuaia for another day. I go back to bed.

I get up, shave and the Israelis quiz me as to why I'm still here. They're amused. I'm still not. Ushuaia strikes me as Purgatory. It feels as if it could deliver so much in terms of adventure and experiences but seems to deliver so little. I'm trapped there day by day, unable to escape, into adventure or otherwise.

It's gone 15:00 before I join the Israelis downstairs for coffee. They're playing cards with other Israelis and have just started drinking wine. I write today off as a wasted day and join in. I take a break from loosing at cards to find a Travel Agent to buy another ticket to escape tomorrow morning (with the Israelis). No such luck, they're all closed. It's Sunday. Everywhere's closed. I'd been purposefully avoiding the Internet cafe, after making a big deal of leaving Ushuaia yesterday to Ezequiel, I'm embarrassed about still being here. No such luck. He's on the street corner, taking a break and smoking a fag. He doesn't make a big deal about it but invites me back to the cafe for a chat and a complimentary coffee. As nice as the coffee was I find myself heading back to the hostel for more booze and card games.

They're playing Arsehole, where at the end of each game the loser is denoted the Arsehole and the winner the President. The Arsehole then has to swap his best cards for the Presidents worst before the next games begins. I catch on quick and after observing various people play for a few games I rise immediately from Arsehole to El Presidente in a singe game! It's a move no one has ever seen before - I hold my title for 4 more games until the session ends. I rule!

I'm introduced to more Israelis, one is so impressed at meeting his first Welshman he feeds me an impressive cocktail of J & B's finest whiskey and Champagne! (½ pint of course!). Randomly I then have a burger (dinner) at the Irish bar with 3 Dutch girls who'd just turned up at the hostel (they recognised me in the bar). I pop into the Internet cafe to see Ezequiel and we head to the Casino for drinks. I enquire about the Las Malvines (Falkland Islands) and it seems most Argentinians (despite all the monuments) couldn't care less, they're only some 20 Argentinians living there!

Bed for 04:00. Up again at 04:30 to try and escape Ushuaia one more time...

24 Mar - I'm Leaving!

2007-03-24T17:59:00.000Z

The day begins with the Ushuaia usual. A late start followed by Internet and Cafe con letche. Come 15:00 I head to the Travel Agents on 245 San Martin. I tried not to arrive with high hopes but I popped in yesterday and the woman (who spoke very good English) took my details on the off chance of making a reservation. She said they often make last minute bookings after cancellations. I couldn't see the same woman today so I spoke to someone else - her English wasn't as good. She spoke to me as if I was stupid - of course I couldn't book a ticket, it's sold out! I persisted and mentioned cancellations again and again and she quickly consulted someone else, who had no time for either me or her. They were fully booked up and before closing checkin they had to wait for a plane from Buenos Aires which arrived at 20:00, by which time they'd be closed. (Well that's what I finally got after 15 mins of her telling me they can't sell cancelled tickets!?) I felt cheated, not necessarily because of not being able to buy a ticket, but because I'd spent an extra day in Ushuaia I needn't have. Grrr... so I buy a bus ticket to Puerto Natales for 150 pesos for 08:00 tomorrow.

Happy to be finally leaving Ushuaia I treat myself to another excellent fish meal at the same place as last night. (I was recognised and it was commented that I ordered exactly the same meal!) It was accompanied with Beagle beer, followed by more Beagle beer at the Banana bar, followed by pints of Beagle at the Dublin bar (whose alcohol content seemed watered down somewhat) followed by Jonnie Walker Gold at Tantra Sara, followed by Jonnie Walker Negra. Surprisingly I was back in the dorm room before the Israelis at 03:30. (I find it difficult going to clubs on me todd.)

23 Mar - Beagling About

2007-03-23T17:16:00.000Z

Woke up around Midday not wanting to spend another whole day on the Internet so I decided to take a little boat trip around the Beagle Channel to see some wildlife. I book myself on the Barracuda, Ushuaia's first tourist boat. 80 pesos for a 3 hour round trip. She's some 50 years old ans looks quite beautiful as her interior retains many of the original fixtures and fittings. We set sail with just 5 other passengers - a Spanish couple and 3 Israelis who just happened to be the other occupants of my dorm room. They had just moved in and recognised me as the person they disturbed getting up that morning.

I chat to Elaina, Ella and Mark until we get to our first Island (Alicia Island) and see South American Sea Lions - Roar! Large lumps of blubber so called because the older males have big shaggy manes. Each male has his own harem of ladies that are usually strewn on and around him. The ladies in one group were all so comfortable with their master that they didn't bat an eyelid when he let loose a big mushy pile of chocolate moose right from under him (and them) and emptied his bladder at the same time. Now you try doing that at home in bed with your missus and see what happens! We also saw lots of King Cormorant birds too with bright shiny, deep blue backs.

It became obvious at this point that the island is a big tourist attraction because various other large and ugly tourist catamarans were bobbing about near us. But none got anywhere as near to land as our vessel whose bow practically skimmed the island as it floated past under slight motor control. A very skilled captain indeed. We then motored to the next Island, Isla de los Lobos. We were passed by a couple of the other modern cats, not that we cared - out boat was so cool we wanted to take out time and spend as much time on it as we could. Next stop, Fur Seals. These were smaller and more playful that Sea Lions. Much cuter.

We pass a small rocky outcrop. It is told that in 1930 the German captain of the German passenger ship Monte Cervantes made a couple of grave errors on a perfectly clear sailing day and grounded, and subsequently sank, his ship. The museum says the captain was the only casualty as he decided to go down with his ship. Our guide continues, "Which is just romantic Bullshit for tourists as the ship remained grounded for some 25 years. What actually happened was that the captain made excuses to return to the ship to retrieve some documents and such was his shame, he put a gun to his head and shot his brains out." She was a nice girl, our guide.

Later I phone Australis about their cruise tomorrow. It's all booked up but I could hang around tomorrow afternoon and see if there are any cancellations. Bugger. I had planned to leave Ushuaia tomorrow morning when all the buses leave but I'm persuaded to stay an extra day on the off chance of getting on the mini-cruise.

Rockafore Cod & Salad for dinner (the best!) followed by Internet at my favourite place until 02:00 watching American Werewolf in Paris. "It's all true!" shrieks Ezequiel again. Strange boy.

22 Mar - The Post Office and King Crabs

2007-03-22T02:55:00.000Z

So I have this parcel I wrapped up in Buenos Aires that I've been carrying around ever since. It's about 1½' x 1½' x ½' and contains my 50 foot handmade rawhide lasso, my horse hobbler, photo CDs, etc. Holiday stuff I want to send back to the UK. When I tried to post it in Buenos Aires I was told it was too heavy to send. Even though I'm still in Argentina I thought I'd try my luck here in Ushuaia.

At the Post Office every parcel has to be inspected and officially sealed by a customs official. I now know the procedure to be that you bring your unwrapped parcel to the Post Office along with paper, scissors and tape. You have it inspected and wrap it up there and then. As it was, I had this tightly wrapped bundle with more layers than a game of pass the parcel. This did not amuse the customs officer who, after carefully slicing thought the sellotape on the outer parcel with a razor blade, was presented with another smaller parcel taped up on the inside! Then another, then parcels of tightly wrapped plastic bags! Tee he! But then, after destroying my hardy work of art he had no sellotape to put it back together again!? Doh! We had to bum some from a fellow parcel wrapper. I then had to fill out 4 forms (not 1, not 2, but 4!) detailing what I was sending, why I was sending and it's worth. But still, heavy or not, they finally took my parcel. But given there's only 3 bits of tape holding it together (and Ushuaia is next to the Falklands - don't mention the war!) I don't fancy its chances of making it to the UK.

Back to the Internet and I realised I really want to take a ferry / mini-cruise somewhere. There's the Navimag ferry around the Chilean Feords but in April, when I'd be wanting to take it, it's closed for repairs. Then there's the Australis ferry that sails around the Cape Horn and into Chile which leaves in a few days time - but I can't seem to book that particular day on-line. Grrr... I plan to phone them up tomorrow.

All the local sea-food restaurants around here seem to specialise in King Crab dishes, obviously a good catch in the area. So I thought I'd splash out and spend £10 on a crab meal. It was King Crab in a creamy paprika sauce, but as nice as it was I couldn't get it out of my head that it tasted like something cheap and not so exclusive back in the UK. This put me off the special and exclusive meal for a bit until I realised what it was - my dinner tasted like Crab Sticks!!! Like, no shit Sherlock!

Well, back to my favourite Internet cafe / bar until 02:30 watching their big flat TV screen. They had on some dark, futuristic, semi computer animated American film about Inca Gods coming back to Earth, possessing bodies and killing mutants. I've no idea what it was about really, I was only half watching it, half blogging and drinking at the same time. But it looked cool and freaky. A mate who works in the bar, Ezequiel, kept telling me it's all true and that, that shit really happens!

21 Mar - Too Late For Antartica

2007-03-21T17:29:00.000Z

Spent most of the day on the Internet catching up on blog entries. I asked in a travel agent and had a quick look on the net for a trip to Antarctica. It seems I'm too late, the last boat left a about a fortnight ago, and was fully booked up too. The boats only sail in the Summer time when the weather is good. I could have looked much harder, if I were desperate, for both a boat AND a free splace on it. But even in the height of Summer I'd be looking at a bare minimum of $3000 US for what is, essentially, an old persons cruise. For that price I may as well fly back next year and do it properly / more leisurely.

I meet up with Jez and the 2 girls for 21:00 and I take them to a cosy looking restaurant (Dreamland) I found on the way over. Only it turns out to be more of a bar, serving bar food and poor Vicky and Jez end up sharing a giant plate of cheese and ham chunks (beer snacks). It went down well with their 7-Up! Though I was able to lure them into the Dublin bar with the promise of fine Beagle Ale for dessert. Fair play to the girls for drinking ale and stout but why did they have to call it a night after just the 1? (At least I had 2 and another in Dreamland). Shesh, what's up with students nowadays!?

They didn't ask to meet me to the next day.

Mental Note:
Never skip on a first date (even on the way to the pub). It doesn't impress.

20 Mar - Glaciar Luis Martial

2007-03-20T02:44:00.000Z

Over breakfast in a cafe I decide to give myself a shake and walk to the local glacier (Glaciar Luis Martial). As an aside I notice that the same 3 students I saw last night were also in the cafe. I set off at 14:00 and it's a good 40 mins walk out of town to the start of the woodland path. It's a really good, well trodden, well marked trail with yellow rings painted around tree trunks marking the way. I put on a good pace for an hour, forever acceding until I reach a sign post. It informs me that I can either turn left up a road to use a chair lift or I can turn right to climb a really steep, difficult trail to the top. Naturally I turn right. This path is definitely not well trodden. The lack of footprints in fresh mud tell me it's not been visited for days. It's a healthy, uneven climb to the top through a couple of unforgiving mud swamps.

I note I've not seen anyone on the whole trail, except for a woman eating lunch towards the start of the first section. I figure she must have been heading down, as anyone who's organised enough to make a packed lunch must be organised enough to set out in the morning. (Note: I only had a bottle of water!) At the top of the chair lift things are different. A constant stream of people (old and young) are descended down from the mountainous walk to the glacier. (It's too late for normal people to be walk up! Just me and another lazy couple.)

Half way up I see the 3 students descending with the others. I say, "Hello!" as the dark haired girl had also noticed that I kept popping up. A mad scrabble to the end and I make it to the glacier in under 3 hours. 3 hours uphill at pace - that must have been a shock to the body. It's been sat on a bus, drinking beer for the past month!

On the glacier itself a group of 3 guys are attempting to climb higher - 2 with crampons, 1 without. The one without has an ice axe and is struggling both on the glacier and on the rocks. I quickly survey the landscape, whip across the ice, over a rock face, up the bed of a trickling stream and wait for him at the top of the section. It's one of the few things I "know" I'm good at. (Girls keep telling me I'm good at other things, but they could be making it up!?) He seems a little upset and as he starts acceding the next section he says, in a very public school boy accent, "And I suppose Mr Fancy pants here will waltz past me again reading a newspaper!" "I'm afraid not," I reply, "I forgot to bring a newspaper." Again, I survey the landscape then begin scaling a sheer rock face as my companion struggled up the icy glacier with his axe. Halfway up I'm over come by common sense and decide to descend instead. Should I slip (very unlikely but I've heard it's possible) I had no means to arrest myself and I'd feel guilty relying on 3 strangers to attend to any resulting injuries.

I enter the cafe at the bottom of the chair lift after walking down the snow-less ski slope, only to greet the 3 students again who were just leaving! I felt it impolite not to introduce myself. They leave, I order a beer, I notice they were all drinking soft drinks. I whizz down the wood land trail, run out of the woods and spot the students again. I greet them with a, "Either you walk too slow or I drink too fast!" suspecting the answer to be a bit of both. I chat to Vicky, Claire and Jez on the walk back to town and get invited to dinner. They're cooking in their hostel so I take round a bottle of white, a bottle of rose and a bottle of red - just to cover all tastes! (Shesh, it cost me twice as much as dinner out would have!)

Dinner was a perfectly reasonable Bangers'n'Mash with green beans and sweetcorn. We then retire to the lounge upstairs with more wine, to join the guitar playing foreigners. Not my ideal setting but the girls make up for it by being riveted to my stories of jungle, machetes and adventure. So much so, Jez gets bored and packs in early! Oops! Unfortunately the lounge closes at 01:00, the girls head for bed and I leave, but not before we arrange to meet for dinner the following night.

19 Mar - Still Alone

2007-03-19T02:25:00.000Z

I wake up feeling drained and thinking of someone I shouldn't. I hunt down a hostel on Av 25 de Mayo (25th May - an Argentinian Independence Day). The weather is cold, wet and crap - it suits my mood. I check into Refugio Del Mochilero Backpackers Hostel for 30 pesos (£5) a night. It is very warm inside and reminds me of dorms on cosy school trips. David, the man behind the desk is very kind and helpful. It cheers me up some. He directs me to a courier on the sea front who may be able to deliver the parcel of holiday goods I have addressed to my Mum. I try them but unfortunately they only deliver to Argentina.

I walk on, around the estuary to the little airport. As the weather had cleared up I thought I'd grab a light aircraft flight to the mountain glaciers. The walk took a lot longer than expected. As I approached the airport gates the sky turned black, the wind picked up and the mountains became obscured by cloud. Even if the plane could take off, in this I wouldn't be able to see anything. So I turned round and walked back. As I approached the town centre, the sky brightened up, the clouds cleared and the sun came out. With the amount of heavy black rain clouds that dominated the sky just moments ago, it was some supernatural change! The airport seemed too far away for a second attempt. I walked on.

Craving for a pizza I visit the restaurant up a hill on a side street that Isi, Michelle and I went to on our first night in Ushuaia. A small group of 3 students sat on a table opposite. I was immediately attracted to one of them. I think I must have a thing for dark hair and red glasses! My thoughts are disturbed as I hear screaming kids fused with prolonged thunder, followed by a colourful blur whizzing by the window. I wait for it happen again and dash to the window for a look. It's kids, 3 up on a large skateboard, tearing down the hill! Brilliant!

I spend the night in the Internet cafe.

18 Mar - Alone, at The End of the World

2007-03-18T22:03:00.000Z

I wake in the early afternoon. I feel lonely. I feel sad. Isi has gone. The truck has left. New found companions are no more. The rain has stopped. It doesn't help.

It is an unexpected turn of emotions I hadn't planned for.

I seek comfort in the solitude of computers and start catching up on the past month of missing blog entries. One of the staff, who was amused by the ransom notes yesterday, kept asking me where my wife was. His English isn't that good, it's difficult to explain.

In the evening I decide to phone Mum, only I get the whole time ahead, time behind thing the wrong way round and wake her up. Not that it matters much as I caught her on Mothers Day. Bonus!

"Steve, it's so nice you phoned on Mothers Day!"
"Oh, that's okay Mum!"
"I assume you did know it was Mothers Day?"
"Hey, I'm phoning you aren't I?"

Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.

17 Mar - St Paddy's Day

2007-03-17T20:30:00.000Z

It's early afternoon by the time I leave the hotel and join Isi for "breakfast". Isi mentions that her life is always happy bouncy and full of good fortune, hence the sun always shines wherever she is. She then blames the rain outside on me, as my life apparently (despite all my hard work and best efforts) tends to be full of humours misfortune. But it's not so bad as together we make... Rainbows! - sorry.

In a stroke of genius I buy an English newspaper and some glue, we head to a modern Internet cafe, borrow some scissors, print photos of Michelle's teddy bear and spend the afternoon making... Ransom notes! Awesome!

Early evening and we head back to the camp site for Isi needs to pack and sort her stuff out (she has a lot of stuff!) and everyone is hungover and full of drunken stories from last night. Over and above the obvious events which we all saw, Nick (in his bladdered state) persistently tried to chat up some local girls - which their boyfriends didn't take too kindly to! The bouncers threw him out. As they did Uttam, for falling asleep on the dance floor. John dropped his glasses and was only able to retrieve them once they'd been danced upon (think lots of little pieces). And Tony bust the main zipper on his tent trying to get out for a pee.

That morning everyone had plans to go hiking, take boat rides, plane rides, etc, etc but without exception, all slept in until at least midday. (Isi felt bad for waking Michelle at 19:00!) No-one woke up that morning - not even Nick and Sue who had to fly out to Buenos Aires that morning to get back to the UK! Luckily for them, Retard woke up 10 mins before they had to leave, realised Nick was passed out cold next to him and kicked him out. Sue followed suit. Just before entering the taxi, Nick brushed chunks off his shirt and realised it was damp and rather smelly. That's right, he had chundered all over himself and decorated his tent at the same time, giving Retard a lovely leaving present. Judging by the size of the chunks the only advice we can give to Nick is, "Chew your food!"

On entry to the camp site bar, last night was THE topic to chat about. I just felt sorry for the new comers to the truck as this was their first impression, which they obviously took to be the norm. It was also here that Michelle received her first teddy bear ransom note. She wasn't happy. She swore a lot. I made the mistake of handing Emily my camera to look at photos from the club last night. "Look, here's another ransom note!" she blurts out and promptly hands the camera to Michelle. The ruse is up. Emily ain't no friend of mine.

Next stop is the Dublin Irish bar for St Patricks Day to pacify Irish Michelle and her violent tendencies. For the occasion they were serving beer in plastic glasses as big your head! (I'm serious, it's not a camera trick!) All very well but in need of more lively entertainment, Isi, Uttam and I head out to the Casino!

Isi naturally assumes the role of our guide to the establishment for she (amongst other things) is a qualified Black Jack Dealer! So, unsurprisingly, we all gravitate towards the Black Jack table, each with chips to the value of 100 pesos. In the first instance I watch. I watch as Isi effortlessly doubles her money and Uttam looses his! Then my turn.

The dealer is fast, too fast. In fact she practically plays the game for you. If you have 11 or less she automatically deals you another card. If you have 17 or more she assumes you'll stick and carries on. That means that on average it's only every 3rd game she actually asks for your interaction, and if you want another card or not. It's played so fast (and my drunken stupor contributed to this some what) that I'm usually still counting the numbers on my cards when they're whisked away and I see my chips either double or dissapear!? On the few occasions my interaction is required, there's no time to add the cards up, I simply look at them and decide if the total looks big or not! The girl does this for 8 hours a day, everyday, she doesn't need to add them up. She can just look a them and know. But there is a certain amount of skill involved and Isi taught me well. The net result, after trying hard to loose all my money, is that I leave with 120 pesos. That's 20 pesos up! Yeah! I rule, I rule! Isi isn't impressed. She has 200 pesos.

The winnings I spend on the entrance fee for Uttam, Isi and I to get into the Red & White bar, a Pole Dancing Strip Club. Well, the Dublin bar was too smokey to head back to! (Good excuse Isi, I'll remember that one!) Isi led the way. Well, she is a qualified Pole Dancer (to grade 1 out of 6)! Is it me or does this girl just get better and better!?

Due to our female company (no Uttam, not you!) we were forced to sit upstairs in the dingy establishment because the girls were working the tables downstairs. It's good value, 10 pesos (£1.60) each entrance fee with free drink, e.g. the usual ½ pint of whiskey! The place was very active and busy inside which came as a pleasant surprise as it looked d-e-a-d from the dark and damp outside. After a good chat as whether or not the girls downsrairs were prostitutes (as they didn't seem to be making much progress if they were) the pole dancing begins. Each was very different to the last, one had fake tits, one had none, one was painted all over and one just blatantly used to be a man! (Check out the manly arms, oversize hands and feet, and is that a banana in your pocket?) And a few of them demonstrated most excellent pole skills, shimmying up to the top (eye to eye to us) before flipping backwards and sliding, upside down, the 2 stories to the bottom. Given that they're essentially naked, how can you not admire that!? We leave when the madam / owner takes over and turns it into a Karaoke show. Thanks, but no thanks.

A quick burger from a fast food joint and we spend the next ½ hour frantically rushing around in the rain trying to find a taxi to take Isi and Uttam back to camp before their truck leaves without them. Eventually an empty one does turn up and I'm left standing alone in the cold and the wet, nursing a hasty peck on the lips as my best friend of the past few weeks disappears into the neon lit morning dark. (Sorry Uttam, no I'm not talking about you!)

Bed for 07:00.

16 Mar - It Gets Messy!

2007-03-16T16:57:00.000Z

I drag myself out of the tent for a tour that starts at 09:30. For the short drive in and out of the National Park I try desperately to grab more Zs. I need to start going to bed earlier! The first stop is outside the Isla Redonda on the Beagle Canal. A beautiful spot complete with a little hut and an old man - who, for a small fee (3.50 pesos or 60p) will give your passport a full page stamp (complete with penguin sticker) from The End of the World! I chose to have mine on page 1! We were taken to see a few other sights, strolling around well trodden paths. We saw the end of the Pan-American highway (Route 3), a beaver dam, a nasty looking spider with lots of eyes and some beautiful spots in general. Though I'll remember it most for picking up some Spanish phrases from the guide - my favourite being "Buenos Gambos!" or "Nice Tits!".

The afternoon I spend wandering the streets of Ushuaia looking for a place to stay, for my truck trip is officially over. I find a Posada (Posada Fueguina) for 380 pesos a night with a 10% discount for cash (equals £55) which I book myself in for 3 nights. I figure that'll give me time to sort some of my gear out before moving into a shared room in hostel.

Ushuaia looks and feels like an out of season ski resort (it does have the 1 piste in winter!) with fresh cold air. The fact it's the End of the World gives it an added sense of adventure. It's a bit of a boom town with concrete & scaffolding set amongst palace hotels and wooden sheds. Cool graffiti litter the walls - a place not just for the old. It feels raw. I love it!

I head back to the campsite for dinner, they're having a steak BBQ which I can buy into. The BBQ is so big it wouldn't even it into Ian Summers's house (sorry Ian, it's true!) and it's choc full of chunky sizzling meat. It's so worth the wait for it has to be THE best steak I've ever had - it simply melts in the mouth like ice cream, cooked to medium rare perfection! Some greedy gits (mentioning no names, Nick) even have 2!

Isi and I head into town so I may shower and change at my newly acquired place and wait for the others to turn up at the Irish bar. But not before Mr Sit-on-the-fence, not-wanting-to-rock-the-boat, straight laced, innocent Dauk steals Michelle's teddy in a frog suit from her tent and backhands it to Isi and me! We naturally take a couple of hostage photos straight away!

Tonight is also the night the new members of the truck turn up for the next leg of the journey. (Think of the truck as a bus, constantly circulating South America with people hopping on and off in different countries). They're all boring and stay in for an early night. Forgive me for judging by first appearances (becasue I'm usually wrong) but I swear most of them are diesel dykes!

Anyhow in the Irish bar I discover the expensive (14 pesos a pint) yet beautiful Beagle Stout. Isi orders a Cape Cod which happens to come with extra sugar dissolving at the bottom!? A few of the others turn up and drag us over to the other Irish bar (Dublin) for a round of B52s. From there we head to the Nautica Night Club and join more of the truck - the place doesn't really kick off until 02:00. By which time we're all half way to being mullered and all pile onto the dance floor to shake off some stress.

I think we've all been cooped up in the little truck on too many long drive days, for tonight is the night everyone lets go! Excess drinking followed by excess dancing followed by more excess drinking. We all had a need to get battered! It was an awesome night out with a couple of, um, new relationships formed! It got very messy, or as Isi puts it, "It was a gong show!" (?)

Isi and I leave at 06:00.