What's the point?

TT wants us to behave as though nothing happened. I wish nothing had. I've realised today that there is nothing I want from life. I've done everything I wanted to do apart from raise a child. I can't do that now, it's too late. So everything I wanted to do that can be done is done. What do people do with their lives? Normally there's something to strive towards but what happens when they've done the striving and they've got there?

Confusion

TT wants things to be the same. I don't know why she's changed her mind. I don't know why she said anything else in the first place, I've always thought we're perfect together. I've never moved to the other side of the world for anyone before.

I'd do anything for her. I know it sounds cliched but I'd die for her. If it was a choice between me and her I'd have no hesitation at all. Perhaps that's because I'm so selfish I can't stand the thought of losing her so my own death would be less painful than hers?

I'm now totally confused because the things she said on Sunday were pretty harsh to me. I don't want to stay here if I'm stopping her from being happy.

Still fucked up? Dunno.

During the day TT sent me an SMS asking if I'd mind going home. She promised she'd cook and that if I needed anything she'd get it for me. Very out of character, even when we're together. I wasn't sure whether to be a child and ignore her to go out on the beer again. Or I could go with her suggestion and go home.

I went home. We talked. We'll see.

Fucked up #2

Deja vu: I made it to work again. Not sure how as yesterday I got home just before TT, got changed and headed out before she got home. Went to the city, got pissed, almost kissed a girl before I realised what I was doing and wanted to kick myself. Went home.

Fucked up #1

I made it to work today. Not sure how as I spent last night on the piss until about 4am.

Nemesis

Strap yourselves in people. This is going to be bumpy and fucked up.

We've had a great few days off together. But I've still been waiting for the news.

This morning we decided we'd go to the cinema. We elected to watch "Hot Fuzz", a film by the same team that made "Shawn of the Dead".

We walked into the cinema and were pleased that we were the only people in their. Except for an old couple (70+) about 2 rows in front of us.

TT had bought an icecream and was busy eating it when I noticed her facial expression totally change. The movie hadn't yet started and we were just listening to the cheesy background music. Worried, I followed her line of site. The two old people were pashing off right there in the cinema. No wonder TT had gone white, I wanted to vomit. We done our best to mutter jokes and stop looking.

A few minutes later the chick went down on the old man. Honestly. You heard his zipper go and she just decided to lay down. Thankfully at that point the trailers for the movie started.

Just as we though it was all over and we'd be able to get on watching the film there was a pause between adverts and the place was silent. Only then did we hear the squelchy slobbery sound of a toothless blowjob being delivered. I honestly nearly spewed. It was gross. I was about to get up and tell them to fuck off but I was transfixed, unable to move because I was so grossed out.

Thankfully another advert trailer came on and the sound was covered. But then the advert ended. Just in time to hear him go "ooooohhh!" in an obvious japanese moment. And she suddenly gagged. It's exactly what you need to hear from two seniors isn't it? Just while I've got you all grossed out just let me hold you there. Imagine how much a 70+ bloke would have stored up in his balls. I couldn't get that thought out of my head. Sick. Gross. Probably yellow. Well past "use-by" date....

Anyhoo. The movie was great. Having satisfied one another the dirty old fuckers didn't disturb us anymore. We laughed lots. It's a British film so I got lots of jokes the Aussies wouldn't understand.

After that we went to a pub for some lunch and then came home.

Then the disaster struck. TT asked if we could talk. She gave me the news. She asked me if it would be ok for me to leave. Even though I've been expecting this I didn't think it would be quite that bad. When I said "Leave?" she said yes. I asked if she had any idea where I could go. She offered "Back to the UK?"

I wanted to die but I couldn't cry. She'd given me enough warning. Shock doesn't even come close to explaining how I felt. Speechless. Totally.

Two days crammed into 1

Monday 19th: We taxi'd. I got chatted up by an airline hostess in the smoking area of the airport. She's 36 and the 8th child in her family. She was desperate to marry a foreigner to escape her horrible life.

We flew. We transferred. We flew. We arrived in Miami. We transferred. We flew. We arrived LA. TT got her duty free booze confiscated by security. We transferred. We flew. TT got the shits on the plane. We arrived Brisbane. HOME HOME HOME! Yey!

Thanks to the international date line and lots of travel it's suddenly Wednesday. Bloody international date line. Thank gods I booked off work for the rest of the week. Time for ZZZzzzz....

They sell cheap alcohol here

We shopped even more. I checked some blogs. We went to the witches market which sells all sorts of awful stuff. I didn't try to bargain for two reasons:

a) I didn't need any llama foetuses
b) I was seriously worried they'd curse me and I'd die if I offended them

I did go to a liquor stall and buy some Southern Comfort though. It cost the equivalent of $5 so I didn't mind that I'd only get to drink about a third of the bottle.

In the end I drank well over half. A good effort I feel. Not so sure I'll be so glad when the taxi comes to collect us at 4.30 tomorrow morning though...

Happy St Patricks day.

The tour ends today. Crying. Depressed. Suicidal. Well, not really but I am a little sad. It's been a great time but I'm also ready to head home for a bit. You may remember this post. It's kind of been a cloud looming on the horizon for me. Now we're near the end and Bolivia sucks I'm wanting to go home and find out the outcome.

Spent today doing last minute shopping and sending post cards. Two of my favourite readers were inflicted with post cards. Did you get them Vuboq and Heidi? If anyone else wants one you should send me your address before I leave. Oh wait. Too late.

It's St Patricks day today and Aussies love celebrating the fact they're not Irish. I've always wanted to spend a SPD with TT but today was the first time we actually got to do it. We went out to the nearest english bar and had a fantastic time. Except I suddenly got taken ill. I just wanted to spew my guts up and crap out the remainder (nice eh?). But TT was having such a good time I didn't want to ruin the evening. Apart from frequent mincing walks to the boys room we had a good time.

Another day, another country

This was another boring day. We spent most of it on the bus headed for Bolivia. One of the girls on the bus felt sick so we pulled over. After five minutes of boredom sat on the bus waiting I kind of forgot she was out there and began to scan out of the window. Just in time to see her to a bright yellow projectile vomit towards the bus. Mmmmm. I'm so glad I looked out at that moment. Really.

We then arrived at the border to Bolivia and Blokey started to get stressed. He always gets stressed at things like check-in time and tour departure time. Dunno why, we're a fairly punctual and easy going group.

The crossing took about an hour. We changed our money but one bloke had a drama. He'd been unlucky enough to pick up a fake 100sol note. He tried three exchange places but no one would change it. I felt really sorry for him as he was pretty hope(help)less so I gave him genuine notes to replace it. I walked down the street, bought a bottle of cola with it and then changed the remainder. I have no scruples.

We went to some pre-inca ruins and we managed to get the most boring guide in the world. I thought we'd left him on the Inca trail but I guess he has a Bolivian brother. We went to this really cool place which had loads of carved stone faces. I can't wait to show you the photo of one of them - but I'm worried we may get hunted down and killed for desecration. You'll have to wait and see what I mean.

We arrived in Bolivia and La Paz certainly lives up to everything the guide book says. It's rammed with crime. Blokey took us on a walkabout tour when we'd checked into our hotel. Within 5 minutes TT had been the victim of attempted pick-pocketing 3 times.

The grossest technique is the spitting one. Someone will spit at you for no reason. It's meant as a distraction. You're supposed to get so enraged that you turn around to have a go at the spitter. At that point his or her accomplace grabs the stuff from your pockets and legs away.

It didn't work with us. No one spits at TT and gets away with it. Their primary error was expecting her to be the one that turned around. Fools.

We went out for dinner and it was great. It was a kind of cabaret place so they showed us all the local dancing and stuff. The local drink is some sort of vodka that's stored and served from massive glass barrels. With a pickled python inside. Yum. I drank snake juice. The small glass I had tasted totally minging so my thought is that the snake shit itself when it realised what the future held for it and I was unlucky enough to get that bit.

Everyone was knackered so they all headed back to the hotel after. TT and I weren't so we went out with Blokey and Paul. A good time was had....

Reeds float. Thankfully for some people...

After a really decent sleep in the mud huts of the indians we were woken by room service. Honestly! The woman/wife person brought us breakfast in bed. It was pancakes and syrup.

She then walked us back to the harbour to rejoin our group. We took the boat to the group of reed islands. They were stunning. The idea of people living on islands made of floating reeds?! The biggest island has 14 houses on. The one we visited had 5. Until a week ago it had 6 but the other family got pissed off over an argument about the possession of a chicken. They cut off their bit of the island and paddled away. Apparently. In my opinion they're probably wearing the ancient version of lead underpants and not straying far from the bottom of lake Titicaca. But who am I to judge? (They so are though, innit?)

After looking around the island we got on a big boat paddled by a husband/wife team. Bearing in mind it was carrying 30 people the vessel went bloody quick. We went to the island that had a floating school.

I don't think I've ever mentioned my past on this blog but I used to visit 100's of schools all over the world. This one was no different. Honestly! In a place where the kids live on floating islands and have to get paddled to the nearest optional school you'd think things would be a little relaxed. Nope. They were 5 years old and speaking three languages pretty fluently. They knew all about the states of US, the countries of Europe and the fact that Aus has Kangaroos and wallabies. I don't think I knew that much at 5!

The floating school had a pot for donations and while everyone else put in some loose change I put in two folded notes which I'm sure will help the teacher find an assistant. It would have only worked out to about $20 Aus but over there I'm positive that would be a few months of salary. I hope so anyway.

After that we reboarded the boat and headed to Pisco for the rest of the day. TT was ill and just wanted to sleep. I went out and ended up in a bar. I got chatted up by the bar tender and then by another traveller. She was from Yorkshire and travelling on her own. She assumed I was alone too. She wanted to fuck me. She was pretty desperate (you'd have to be eh?) but I politely declined. Have you ever met a Yorkshire chick?!

Surreal experience

Today we were collected from the hotel by tut tuts. I think that's what they're called anyway. Those tricycle taxi thingies favoured in third world countries? The ones that look about as safe as Zeppelin with an oversized cargo of TNT in a thunderstorm? Yep. We took one of those from the hotel to the port. At the port we disembarked to buy rice, tuna and bread. Why? Because we were on our way to meet (and stay with) some local Indians. The food gift was the tour guides recommended way of ensuring we weren't killed and eaten during the night by our host families.

Completely unsurprisingly Mo decided that protein, fibre and carbohydrate was not a healthy way to sustain the human body and she decided that her family would like a bag of Mangos instead. Yes, I'm serious. Imagine my reaction when whilst climbing aboard the boat there was a sudden splash and a yell as the bottom fell out of her plastic carrier bag dumping the precious fruit into Lake Titicaca. Laugh? No, of course I didn't. I fucking pissed myself.

Our first stop was a place called Taquile island. It's probably one of the most remote places I've ever been to. The island is a self ruling community. They have no police force. The people live to survive. There is no industry at all, everyone just produces what they need.

After having a look around we got back on our boat and headed for Amantini. The island where we were going to stay with our Indian families for the night. On the way our guide gave us a crash course in the local language. Most of Peru speaks Spanish, but this place has it's own totally unrelated language. I don't have my crib sheet with me as I write this but believe me, the word for "Thanks" is something like 20 letters long. It's something like "AMARATINYAKAKICULA" and that appears to be a fairly standard word according to the sheet.

We managed to strike gold on the island. The family we were staying with were basically the chiefs of the place. They had the best house and get this, A REAL TOILET! Admittedly it had no running water and flushing involved pouring buckets of water down it, but nonetheless it was probably the only "real" toilet on the island. And we were also given our own room which is definitely the height of Amantini luxury.

About half an hour after arriving our host told us that it was traditional to play football with the locals and look us along to the town square. All the other tour members were there too and hence I didn't feel at all guilty about not joining in the footy. Instead I treated my host to a beer. Yes, even in Amantini I managed to find the only bar. After an hour or so we headed back to the house and then we were served dinner.

It was a surreal experience. You must remember that this place has no electricity and no running water. The kitchen was a dark smoky ghetto. There was a clay oven/fire at one end and some logs to sit on. The only light was from the fire and a couple of candles.

We were served vegetable and pasta soup from carved wooden bowls. Then we had a bean curry not unlike my own favourite dish. For dessert we had some sweet gloopy stuff. I’ve no idea what it was. The whole lot was delicious. My taste buds were a little numb though, my brain was overawed by the experience.

An hour later our hosts produced some local clothes and gestured us to change into them. The place was cold so we didn’t need to be asked twice. We then realized that it was not actually a gesture of kindness (though it was!) but in fact a preparation for attending a fiesta in the village.

By torchlight we staggered back down the hill to the village centre. A local band turned up and the women grabbed men to lead the dances. Yep. The women grabbed the men. For the first time ever I actually want to publish a video on here. Me being dragged to dance. It’s “must see” entertainment.

We left after a couple of hours as a storm was beginning to break. Going to sleep in cosy, albeit shocking, “rustic surroundings” with a torrential rain storm breaking overhead is an experience that cannot be described. If I’d died on that bed I would have died a happy and content man.

A rest at last.

The day today wasn't overly exciting. Lots of driving. We left Cuzco about 7am and headed for a place called Puno. It's a city on the shore of Lake Titicaca. And it's a long way from Cuzco. When we got close we stopped a the Sillustani ruins. They were cool. They're a load of conical structure that were used as burial chambers. My favourite thing about them was that they were abandoned during the Spanish invasion so there's still lots of evidence about how they were actually constructed.

It will be easier to explain when I post some photos, but basically they built a stone ramp leading up to the structure and this was dismantled once they'd finished. That could explain lots of ancient stone structures couldn't it? No space ships or divine intervention, just a load of people with lots of time on their hands.

The scenery is very impressive. I've only seen a little bit of lake Titicaca but the little bit I've seen looks good. TT was feeling ill again when we checked into the hotel so I went out to fetch her some painkillers and stomach pills. While I was out I was approached by a local selling very cheap smokes. I bought some. They were fake. I bought sawdust Marlboro. Not good. Not impressed. Luckily they only cost me about 3 cents.

We had dinner with Blokey and Paul at a local restaurant. Once again too much beer was consumed. Peru is bad for the liver.

Hi ho, oh shit! Are we there? Damn right we are...

Apparently it's traditional to see Machu Pichu as sunrise. Hence we were woken at 4am this morning so that we could climb the last 8km or so to "The sun gate". It was manic. For some reason lots of people get very competitive when they're this close to the final destination. The biggest risk at this stage is being barged off the trail by some impatient fuckwit that desperate to get to Machu Pichu incase it gets stolen or something. Really, what is wrong with these people? It's not like the ruins of a city are going somewhere is it? They've been there for long enough, I don't really think there's any reason to try and get there 10 milliseconds before for closest competitor?

Anyhoos, after an hour or so of climbing we finally arrived at the sungate. It was the biggest disappointment ever. The clouds didn't want to clear so we spent 40 minutes looking down at clouds. Yep, down at clouds. Did I mention that Machu Pichu is rather high in the Andes?

We carried on hiking and then reached the city itself. It was awesome. Having seen so many Inca ruins over the last few weeks I didn't think I was going to be dumb struck or anything. Wrong. Rather than a few buildings, it was of course a whole city. Nothing can prepare you for the size of the place. Even looking down on it I didn't get any grasp for the size of the place until I was walking amongst the walls. From above it didn't look that big but when you're inside - WOW.

We had a guided tour which took about 3 hours. And guess what? The visitor centre had real toilets! After 4 days of no running water or electricity we suddenly had real toilets! It was heavenly. I was sorely tempted to take a picture of the toilet but then I realised that no one reading this could possibly be so excited as me about the prospect of seeing a real working, flushing toilet.

After exploring we visited the nearest "real" town. A place called Aguas Calientes. Honesty we could have done without this. After 4 days pretty tough hiking we would have just preferred a hot shower. We were too tired to explore the town very much so we had lunch a drank loads of beer.

After that we caught a train and then a bus for the 5 hour trip back to Cuzco. We pretty much went straight to bed when we got back. I fall asleep wondering whether this really counts as a holiday as I'm feeling completely knackered...

Hi ho, hi ho, had enough now....

Today felt positive. Although it was going to be 14km we'd been told that there were no large climbs and also we'd been assured that there was a bar at the campsite we'd be staying at this evening. If that's not a reason to be positive then I'm not sure what is!

Everyone else on the hike (Especially Mo, no, I'm not laughing - much...) has a variety of ailments includiing knackered feet, knackered muscles and knackered legs. So far I have nothing wrong (well, nothing out of the usual anyway). I must admit though, I feel like I'm about to get a blister on the ball of my right foot. It's odd because I've worn these boots all over the world and never had a drama before.

I decided to spend a few minutes this morning to tie my laces really well to ensure my boots couldn't move around on my feet.

I then headed off and decided to take things a bit slowly. I made it my mission to be the only person to complete the trail without any injuries. It meant a lot to me because everyone had been taking the piss and saying I didn't look like a proper hiker.

I strolled really leisurely and took loads of photos. At one point I met a tour leader from a different group. He offered me some coca leaves so I indulged for the first time. They're legal in Peru, in fact most hotels and hostels have a basket of them for free. I'd like to say they tasted good and I got as high as a kite but I'd be lying. They tasted like tea bags. And I encountered no happy feelings. What's the point in banning something if they don't give you happy feelings?

Lunch was great as usual, but instead of hanging around for an hour afterwards I decided to get walking after eating. TT came with me and it was probably the best afternoon of the trail. It was the first time we'd walked alone together and it was fantastic to share the scenery with the girl I love.

About 3pm we got our first view of the mountain that hides Machu Pichu. It's marked with a flag. The primary guide was already waiting for us. I've no idea how/when he passed us as he was definitely still at the lunch site when we left. Somehow they ensure that there is always a guide in front of the group and a guide at the rear ensuring no one gets left behind. All in all there's normally about an hours difference between the leaders and trailers of the group. It's pretty spaced out.

While gibbering about the guides I should mention a very annoying habit the primary one has. He plays a flute. And the sound travels. For most of the uphill struggle yesterday I could hear him trilling away. I distracted myself from the hard work by thinking about ways to kill him using his bloody flute. At one point I had a particularly happy thought of him being so distracted by his trilling that he actually walked off a clff and managed to impale himself on the flute. And on the way down he caught his foot on the cliff causing a landslide that buried him under a big pile of rocks. I'm not a nasty person really but he was extremely annoying.

We arrived at our final campsite about 5pm. As promised there was a small bar. I was expecting the drinks to be expensive but they were only 5sol, about $AU2. Why would you do that? You have a captive audience in the only bar for miles. Why only 2$AU? I'd charge about 5 times that and I'm sure everyone would have been happy to pay it too. After all, we'd spent nothing for the three days previous and beer is beer. I'd easily justify paying that price.

After dinner we said goodbye to our guides and sherpas and gave them our tip money. For some reason Mo decided to be a cow. Perhaps she'd not had enough mango or something. Basically we'd been advised to split our tip money something like 15% for each guide, 15% for the cook, 10% for the assistant cook and the remainder to be split evenly amongst the sherpas. Mo didn't agree with this. She was arguing that the sherpas should get more.

After listening to her drivel for about 15 minutes I'd had enough. I asked the group for a show of hands in favour of giving the recommended amount. Every single hand went up apart from Mo's. We took that as a decent enough majority and gave out the money accordingly. The rest of the night was spent in the bar. Once again, fun was had by all.

Hi ho, hi ho, is it much further?

Yesterday we covered about 11km horizontally. I'm not sure how much altitude we gained. 11km doesn't sound far, and it's not. I'll be the first to admit that, but when I upload some pics of the terrain you'll see why it was much more challenging than it sounds.

During breakfast this morning we noticed that Mo and her partner were absent. Apparently they were disappointed with their progress yesterday so they'd left early to avoid holding us all up. Of course, they had a guide with them so they wouldn't get lost or anything. Ironically we had fruit salad featuring mango for breakfast. I think this was the only thing that made me notice she was missing.

We left about 7.30 and the guide was not lying when he'd said 80% of today was going to be uphill. Within 10 minutes of leaving we were hiking up our first mountain and another passport control check point.

I was feeling a little envious of TT since the hiking sticks we'd been told to buy felt like more of a burden to me. The hike was hard work but the stick didn't really help me much. Although the stick was probably the only thing that made me look as though I was hiking the Inca trail. Other than that I was looking very casual. I wore jeans and DM boots. Everyone else was wearing multi terrain hiking kit. Most people had those utility belts and many had ropes, climbing gear and oxygen tanks.

Most of the group, including the guide, had asked what I was planning to do when we reached high altitude and continual rain. I'd produced my ultra small pocket umbrella and they'd all stared at me in disbelief.

Mo had critised me the day before, she said I looked "Ill prepared" for the hike. I wondered to myself how bringing Mangos was better preperation than wearing clothes and boots I was comfortable in.

TT was the only one less hikey looking than me. She didn't even have a backpack as all her stuff was in mine.

Anyhoo, I digress. After the checkpoint the real climbing started: Fucking vertical for 4 hours. It's hard to explain how much the altitude is a bitch. Honestly, 20m at sea level is nothing compared to doing it 4km up. The air is so thin it drains your breath away.

I spent most of the morning hiking alone somewhere in the middle of the group. Lunch was a welcome relief. After lunch I started the afternoon with TT after complaining to her that the only thing she was carrying was the water bottle which was the only thing I really missed after she sped off ahead of me.

About 2pm she began to accelerate again (oh the beauty of not carrying two peoples baggage!) but I didn't mind too much as it was raining and I was no longer thirsty.

Around 3.30 I reached the summit about 5km above sea level and was a little surprised when TT and the other "pack leaders" had only beaten me by 7 or 8 minutes.

The descent (that's the heart breaking thing about the Inca trail: the route consists entirely of gradients but the overall change in altitude is almost negligible. What goes up must come down eh?) was treacherous. The rocks were slippery and visibility was down to about 5m. For the first time I was grateful for my walking stick. I prodded the whole way and gradually began to transfer my faith to it. Within 20 minutes I could have walked blindfolded using nothing but my stick for guidance.

It was also the first time I felt really sorry for TT. She landed on her arse about 5 times in the following hour and each time my heart jumped to my mouth as I feared she'd injured herself. Luckily she escaped with nothing more than scrapes and bruises and we arrived at the next camp about 5pm.

Two of the guys that joined us for the trail are Irish and they've already secured themselves a reputation for being anti social. They simply didn't want to talk to anyone else in the group. Until tonight. When they discovered I had some rum. Suddenly barriers were broken and they became the most traditional Irish people on earth. Eg. Pissed.

As they teetered towards their tent one of them grabbed my arm and slurred: "Do you smoke?" to which I replied something along the lines of: "You know I bloody do, I've been borrowing your lighter all bloody night!" and went to bed. A few minutes later the smell of cannabis reached my tent and I realised what he'd meant.

There's nothing like the night sky in Peru. The stars were awfully pretty that night.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to machu pichu we go...

We got up about 6am this morning, having packed everything last night. Our main backpacks were staying in storage at the hotel and we were allowed a 4kg duffle bag (which would be carried by our porters) and anything else we wanted to carry in our own smaller backpacks.

My packing had gone so well that I had about a kilo left over in my duffle bag. I done what any sensible trecker would do and went to the bottle shop and bought a litre of rum to fill the space.

Mo had a drama though. Her bag weighed 6 kilos. She went away to her room, returned a few minutes later and it was still 5.5. She went back to her room again. Another 5 minutes passed with everyone waiting for her. The bag was reweighed. 5kg. On her third return to the scales she was dissapointed to discover that she was still half a kilo over the limit.

the tour guide was not happy with her as she was holding all of us up. Worse, everyone else had passed the weigh test first time. After all the scales had been left out for us to use for the previous 24 hours.

In desperation she asked if anyone had space for 500g of her possessions. A couple of people sympathised and offered to help. You should have seen their faces when she dived into her duffle bag and gave each of them a fucking great MANGO.

The bus drove us to Km82, the starting point of the trail. On the way we'd stopped to buy hiking sticks from locals. TT was the only person who didn't buy one on the grounds that she'd steal mine if she needed one. Nice eh?

Something that surprised me about the start of the inca trail is the security. We had to have our passports stamped. That hows it's going to be an impressive walk doesn't it?

The first couple of hours were ok, reasonably level and some impressive scenery. Then we came across a large cliff that needed to be climbed by way of loads of uneven inca carved steps. That was a bit draining. At the top the guide was waiting and informed us that 80% of tomorrow would be like that. What a nice chap.

We stopped a short while later for lunch. That was pretty amazing. The porters, carrying all our equipment had overtaken us during the morning and had set up a large lunch tent and cooked for us. We had soup, spaghetti bolognaise and trifle. In the afternoon we carried on trekking and arrived at our first campsite about 5pm.

Again, the porters had overtaken us and arrived ahead to pitch our tents, setup camp and prepare afternoon tea. There was a village nearby so we played some football with the locals.

After this I shared out some of my rum and a pleasant time was had by all.

Pre inca trail warm up

Today the same guide that came to give us the briefing on the Inca trail turned up to collect us about 7am. It was to be a kind of "pre-inca trail training session" although we didn't know that when we departed.

We were driven to a place called Sacsayhuamam. Although it's supposed to be pronounced "Sexy wooman", (honestly!) I preferred to call it "Hot Chick Place". It's in the Sacred Valley which is a very fertile valley running through this psart of Peru that's littered with thousands of Inca and pre-inca ruins.

The ruins were truly spectacular and they made Stonehenge pale into insignificance. It was shocking and outraging when the tour guide told us that the locals were until very recently pinching stones to make and repair their own modern day structures. Here's a bit of a hippy website that has some info. http://www.crystalinks.com/incaruins.html

We then continued to a place that produces Alpaca and Llama wool / products to ancient methods. It was cool. Lots of weathered old ladies sitting in person-sized huts knitting and weaving. And animals to feed. And people producing ancient dyes from minerals, roots, etc.

Next we headed to a place called Pisac ruins. This is where the inca trail training began. We hiked for about an hour up some impressive stairs which was quite literally breathtaking. Because we were already 3.5 km above sea level the air was a little thin, so stairs were not overly welcomed. The effort was well worth it though. The views were impressive and the ruins even more so.

It was at these ruins though I noticed our guide has a very annoying voice. I hope he doesn't point out too much on the inca trail.

After looking around we then hiked back down again and had lunch at the local town. Strangely it was a cafe run by a german woman who had all the typical associated efficiency. When she asked what you wanted to order you felt obliged to answer immediately. If anyone had said "I'm not ready yet" I'm sure her answer would have been "Vy not?"

After lunch we used the rest of our break time to watch 2 dogs shagging. There wasn't much to do in the village.

We then travlled for an hour or so more to visit Ollantaytambo with "its enormous terraces and magnificent Inca stone work". This involved another hour hike up then an hour hike down.

We returned to Cuzco in the evening to prepare our 4 kilo bags for the mornings early departure for the inca trail.

Cuzco: Last day

Today TT was feeling ill and fancied just resting at the hotel. this didn't matter too much though as it was our third day in Cuzco and we've seen pretty much all their is to see here.

I went off with another tour member and we managed to see the 12 angled stone which is a feature of the original Inca city wall. We also saw a painting in the cathedral which was the local interpretation of the Last Supper. It was a painting I wanted to see because the locals had painted it as they would have expected it to be. Hence Jesus is eating roasted Guinea Pig and all the disciples are drinking bottles of beer rather than wine.

Tonight we had a briefing about the Inca trail which begins on Friday morning. It sounds totally awesome. We were given small duffel bags which will be carried by our porters. We have a strict limit of 4kg per bag, every above this we have to carry ourselves.

Mo asked whether Mango's would be advisable for energy during the hike. Everyone politely ignored her.

Cuzco: Making the locals cry

Peru is great for haggling. I love haggling because I always perform one simple check before I begin: Make sure someone else is selling the good you're after. This gives you the ultimate weapon - the ability to walk away and buy it from someone else without losing face. If the seller has something you really want and you can't get it anywhere else then they have you over a barrel. No one wants that.

Here's my guide to haggling like a bastard:
Pool together with friends when you're about to buy stuff. It's easier to get big savings on $100 rather than 4 separate purchases of $25.

Ask the price and then look horrified or laugh whatever their answer. Shake your head lots and offer half.

Their turn to laugh. While they try to explain why your offer is too low smile like an idiot the whole time. Occasionally nod, grin broadly and then repeat your offer.

If they get really angry consider going up by the tiniest amount possible. If their offer was 100 and I've already offered 50 then I'd go to 55.

If they still look angry, start counting your money slowly in front of them. The site of notes softens them hugely.

Keep repeating your offer. If they are still not capitulating then slowly count money back into your wallet. Leave the shop/stall very slowly to give them a chance to stop you from leaving. If they don't then they really cannot afford to do it for that price so offer the next guy a little more.

I'm good at haggling. I've left a trail of almost crying broken Peruvians around Cuzco today. I do have some lovely souvenirs though...

In other news, Mo (remember?) bumped into us in the market and told us for ten minutes how lovely the mango's were...

Cuzco and drinking games

Today passed by quite quickly. We purchased ticket books that entitled us to visit most of the museums, churches and galleries in Cuzco. There aren't actually that many and we'd seen everything by early afternoon. So we went to an American style pub and had a westernised lunch. Followed by an afternoon of drinking beer and playing pool. We felt we deserved a break!

This evening we were invited out clubbing with Blokey and Paul, the tour leader and driver. We met in a pub and after a couple of cocktails we ended up playing an ice breaking game called "Never have I" which is kind of like a truth and dare drinking game. Basically you tell everyone something you've done in the past (you must be honest) and then take a swig of your drink. If anyone has done the same thing then they also take a swig of drink and then the game moves onto the next person.

The idea is that you can confess your inner truths and feel amused when other people take a swig too. But you get a point if you are the only person drinking so if you're feeling competitive you have to dig deep and confess some of your worst secrets. It was great fun. I came third, just behind Blokey and Paul. Not a bad effort really. None of us could really compete with Blokey as he's gay and none of us could drink along to things like "Never have I had a penis and a dildo in my arse at the same time"

I think the score was something like 12 to Paul, 10 to Blokey and 9 to me. No one else in the group scored over 3.

First boring day, so a bit about the food.

Despite the below freezing temperatures overnight we atually slept very well. Until 5am when porters came and knocked on our hut doors to wake us up for another early start. Incase this wasn't enough to wake us from our slumber they also kicked awake the sleeping llama that were laying like rocks between the huts. The didn't approve of such treatment and made unholy noises. Imagine a donkey being chainsawed in two and I think it would sound something like a llama being kicked awake.

This was enough to make the humans get out of the huts pretty quickly and into the common room where breakfast was being served. Breakfast in Peru is a very traditional affair for westerners. Everywhere we've been so far it's been the same: Tostada, jugo y cafe o the. Ie. Toast, juice and coffee or tea.

There's usually a choice of juice, banana, orange, pinepapple or mixed. Bafflingly one of the choices at the dead posh hotel in the desert was "Tuna", or at least, that's how it sounded. No one was brave enough to try it so I guess we'll never know whether it was brine or oil.

Anyhoo, after this we piled onto our bus and drove back for about 2 hours until the road was good enough to meet with our normal tour bus. We transferred and then drove for another couple of hours before stopping for a picnic lunch.

The picnic lunches aboard the bus are also a very traditional thing. Again, every one has been identical. The tour leader, Blokey, is very much into fresh fruit and salad so the routine goes like this: A couple of people are assigned helpers, a couple of people are washers and tidiers, a couple of people are assigned peelers and a couple of people are assigned cooks.

Procedure for lunch:
The helpers get out the tables, boxes of equipment and food from the fridge.

The washers fill some bowls with antiseptic wash and wash food that isn't going to be peeled - Eg., Lettuce, Tomatoes, apples, etc.

The peelers peel onions, carrots, cucumber, bananas, etc. They also chop and prepare the fruit salad.

The cooks chop the vegetables and make huge trays of salad. Also mix up a load of tuna, cucumber, mayo, onion and tobasco, make guacomole, dips.

The helpers clear stuff, open tins, mix, chop, etc as requested. They also lay out trays of breads, meat and cheese.

And that's about it. Every picnic lunch table looks identical after about 10 mins. You server yourself bread, meat, salad, dips, and then go back for fruit or fruit salad. It's quite impressive.

One of the new people, the wife of the older Aussie couple appears mildly obsessed with the Mangos here. Since lunch she did not stop telling anyone that would listen how wonderful the mango was. This may sound insignificant, but NO! It's not. In fact, let's give her a name now. Mo. Short for Mango Obsessed.

We continued the drive all afternoon and finally arrived in Cusco, which was to be our base for the next few days while most of the group went on an Amazon excursion. Curse them. Why weren't we offered that when we booked?

It´s fricking freezing in here mr bigglesworth

We got up early this morning and a different (much smaller) tour bus picked us up from the hotel. It took us through the mountains, past herds of llama and alpaca, tiny villages, peasants, etc all the way up to Perus highest mountain pass. The air was so thin it was hard to breathe. Panting required even to walk the length of the bus.

The reason for the smaller bus is that our normal one wouldn´t be able to handle the terrain. The road is very rough and rock falls are common. We stopped at the only place in the middle of nowhere for coca tea and then carried on through the mountain desert.

Eventually we arrived at a small community with a grouping of huts and a large fire heated common room. This was to be our base for the night. But not yet. It was only 11.30am.

They´d prepared us some box lunches which we loaded onto the bus and continued. We went to colca canyon (stopping to clear the road of two land slides on the way) and ate our lunches watching condors soaring over the worlds deepest canyon. Impressive. We then hiked for about an hour just to take in some scenery and then headed back to the huts.

We had a great dinner and watched some local kids dancing - the poor sods had walked about 5km to enteratin us! Then we played a few games by the fire and retired to our own cabins. They are freezing. I´m going to have to do a count up of body bits in the morning to make sure nothing has fallen off....

Altitude sickness rears it´s ugly head.

We´ve been warned time and time again to expect altitude sickness and that this is the first place we´re likely to encounter it. We´re to avoid large meals(no prob), alcohol (errr....), and smoking (lol). And we´re to chew coca leaves (ooo! I could give that a go...).

Yesterday I had no probs but today I suffered. For at least 2 minutes. We went on a proper walking tour with a (boring) english speaking guide and after about 3 hours and the umpteenth church I started to lose concentration and became more interested in staring at the floor. Then when she asked me a question I couldn´t remember what she´d said and decided it must be altitude sickness. Why couldn´t I have that as an excuse when I was at school?!

That said, the tour was actually pretty good.

After we went to a nunnery which was also good for a giggle. Then we had mexican for lunch. Then the girlies were tired and wanted to siesta in the hotel. So I went out and found myself in the Irish bar. I think it was the altitude again, making me disorientated. I was looking for cultural things, honest.

As regular readers will know, I attract unusual occurences and guess what I managed to do? Meet the majoy/president of Arequipa! Yep, in an Irish bar. We discussed european and local politics for about 2 hours and had a good laugh. He offered me a night in the presidential suite at the beach with him and his family. If only I wasn´t on a tour!

The new people seem ok although they´ve slept all day with jet lag and stuff.

Arrived in Arequepa

Excuse the spelling, it´s probably wrong. But it´s a nice enough city. Better than Lima although our hotel is in an area favoured by strangle muggers. Nice eh?

We arrived here about lunch time after a few hours drive. We dropped some washing into the hotel reception and then went on a shrt walking tour with Blokey to find out the basics. Eg., ATMs, Banks, Restaurants, places to go, places to avoid.

This evening 6 new people are joining us. An old aussie couple (Both in 60´s and 70´s!!!!), an english couple both in teens or 20s, a single teen english girly and a 30´s aussie single bloke. We´re all going out to dinner together.

Aaaah, just relax...

TT was feeling a little better when she woke up this morning. The sleep helps. We went for a walk around the grounds of the oasis hotel and took picures of peacocks, llamas, ponies an other animals grazing in the grounds.

Before getting on the tour bus I had to settle my bar bill from last night. I drank horrendous amounts, mainly smirnoff rather than local alcohol. Because it´s imported it´s rather expensive. I think I consumed most of a litre bottle by either drinking it myself or buying ¨Cuba Libres¨ (local talk for vodka and coke) for new friends. The total damage was about $20US. Really can´t complain can I?!

We went to a cemetary that contains the exposes mummies of peoples buried 2000 years ago. It´s eerie because you can still see skin and hair on most of them. They are exposed because grave robbers dug them up about hundred years ago to steal the buried loot.

We then went to a working goldmine. Health and safety doesn´t exist there. The workers reguarly plunge axes into one anothers heads because they are so pissed with the alcohol given to them to make them forget the pain and misery. After smashing axes into solid rock for about 2 or 3 days they´ve gathered enough rubble to walk it on their backs 3km to the ¨refinery¨. There they grind it by using hand and foot powered machines. The foot powered ones are like sea-saws and the guys literally dance to music in the open air crunching up the rocks on their sea-saws.

Once it´s crumbled they mix it with mercury (we had a live demo of this) and that captures the gold bits in the bottom of the water so that the mercury can then be burned off leaving pure gold. I nearly shat myself when the guy started splashing mercury around us. Honestly, no healh and safety here!

After that we went to a pottery where a dude that spoke no english entertained us by demonstrating how the incas made pots. He was very funny because he done lots of acting to make up for his lack of English. We bought much pot.

Then we got back on the bus and headed for porto inca. The original inca fishing port. There´s nothing there now but some more exposed graves, a small bar complex and some huts. We stayed in the huts and lit a fire on the beach. We had a sangria party and much fun was had by all.

The group
TT & I
Our friends, T & S
The tour leader is called Blokey and he´s gay.
The driver is called Paul and he´s a really fun English guy.
My fave group member apart from TT is a canadian girl called Nat
There are two french swiss girlies, mother and daughter. They are good but very shy because they don´t speak much english.
Aussie woman called Janet who can be a bit annoying and moan lots.

That´s us. Just 8 at the moment.