a_l_i_x's travelblog

23 Sep 2009

Wed Sep 23, 2009 Full Page

The next day we got on a bus to Cuzco. After driving in rubble for a couple of hours which is really bumpy! because the road was being redone, a stretch of tarmac brought us to the highest point of our journey at 4,150m. We got out to stretch our legs, take some photos of the mountains and grab some snacks. Some of the kids from the area had a small business going, dressed in traditional clothes holding lambs it's spring in Peru and llamas, charging 1 sol for photos. We obviously took up the opportunity for some photos with the animals, including a ridiculously fluffy llama that was totally unfussed and indifferent to the gang of tourists descending on him.

We got back on the bus and arrived in Cuzco in the late afternoon. Then we discovered our hotel was up a long load of stairs Cuzco is built in a valley, although it has spread up the nearby hillsides and a road too narrow for our bus. Much groaning and hauling later, we reached the hotel. We checked in and then went to meet our group. Our guide walked us to the main square, passing some still remaining Inca walls that are incorporated into today's buildings. The stones are all perfectly carved to slot into their neighbours and no cement or the like was ever used to hold them in place. Nobody knows how the Incas carved the stones so perfectly and it's hard to believe how they got them there from the quarries considering that although a very advanced people, the Inca never discovered the wheel.Once in the wide, open square we were surrounded by beautiful buildings, from the Cathedral to the colonial arcades. The churches are all made from Inca stonework, torn down from their temples by the Spaniards and refashioned into Christian churches. As we were listening various people came over trying to sell dolls, cards, paintings and cigarettes there are a million tourists to Cuzco every year so selling to tourists is always big business . At one point, a small girl no more than 6 years old came over lugging with her a large lamb, roughly equal in size to herself. She heaved it over, half carrying, half dragging it along, and presented herself to us totuing like a matron at a market, "Un photo, un sol!" interspersed with panting and huffing comically. The guide, trying to remain serious told her to leave but we were all to busy laughing at this funny little girl. She threw back her head as if to say, "Oh well!" and shuffled of still dropping her lamb, finally reaching some steps and swinging her whole body around to try and sit down whilst still holding it. Wass and I were still giggling whilst trying to listen to our guide.After this we wandered around looking in the shops and looking for hiking boots for me to rent for the Inca Trail. Empty handed, we went bac to the hotel and got ready for dinner and drinks. We met the group to go a worldwide institution, the Irish Pub. This one was called Paddy's and was a good replica, although there is a Gusiness shortage in Peru so it was lacking on that front. We had a few drinks and then some people went back. We stayed on and then went to a bar where the owners dog was running around. He soon pottered over to his basket under the bar no joke and fell asleep in spite of the booming music. We had a couple more drinks and then headed to a club. It was small and packed with a few odd characters, although mostly wealthy Peruvians and tourists were about. There was a seriously pregnant white woman bumping and grinding, much to our repulsion, and a little Peruvian guy in leather trousers and a velvet halterneck waistcoat. He was up dancing on the bar giving it his all and our gay companion on the trip said he wanted to chat to this guy. We went over and started trying to talk to him luckily he spoke some English but it soon took a turn. We were talking about music and when I asked what kind of music he liked he replied, "My body moves to all music", followed by an overly friendly smile. OK, so this guy is a little bit weird. Then I try and subtley ask if he is of a homosexual disposition. He says "No!" offendedly and leans in. We move away very quickly. So this guy isn't gay despite the outfit and booty-shaking dance , he's just Latino. More dancing, and feeling short of breath because of the altitude and alcohol doesn't help and then some free whisky. Time to move on. The next club is not as good but Wass and I have fun being overly flirtatious with Peruvian guests as they arrive at the door with zealous "hola"ing and looking them up and down. One poor girl trips down the stairs after looking back at Wass as he greets her! Big mistake on my part as Peruvian men are in no way reserved. We give up the silly game and go inside. After half an hour more, we call it a night and get in a taxi home.

Filed under Peru

"brian "

Fri Sep 11, 2009 Full Page

After over half an hour of hairbrushing and de-knotting and a good scrub to get rid of the dust that had found its way even as far as our ears, we were once again clean and ready to face the world. We met with our French friends to go to a pub for dinner where the wall were covered in loads of very good and some very naked pictures taken on the salt flats. A few rounds of beers and a double cheeseburger each, we returned to the hotel to enjoy a warmer nights sleep. The next day we were woken by a military parade in the square outside with drums trumpets and lots of marching. We had breakfast and then went to the bus station to go to Sucre. We boarded the bus along with a group of other travellers who we later found out to be our company on the tour we are now on and a fair few Bolivian women with large cargo and children held on their backs with colourful shawls. The bus clattered its way out of Uyuni and we very quickly realsied this was going to a pretty crap journey. The bus was winding up narrow roads that twisted steeply along the mountainside with no barriers and no tarmac. After a few mouthfuls of dust that were making it inside through the sunroof and being desperate for a pee, we finally stopped outside a shack in the middle of nowhere. The bus continued on as far as Potosi, a city famous for its mines where the miners work in terrible conditions scratching away with nothing but basic handtools and dynamite. They are paid no wage, but work for coorperatives and they even have a mining god introduced by the Spanish to scare them into working that resembles the Devil which they have come to worship for luck. We then had to wait at the bus station for another bus where we met a French and a Brazilian guy travelling together. As we got on the bus a woman tried to charge us a bus terminal departure tax. We were on our guard for the numerous scams in Bolivia and pretended not to understand and not to speak Spanish. "We weren't born yesterday lady, we're onto you." Eventually we manage to shove past her to board. We sit down, read our book and then I read that charging a departure tax is standard in Bolivia and we keep our heads down until the bus leaves the station! We watched two Jean Claude Van Damme films and were clock watching as we were already late. Then, on our way into Sucre, the bus was stopped by the police and the driver got out. The passengers were hammering on the windows shouting "Vamos!" Let's go! . The drivers daughter got on to tell us that there was a protest going on and that no buses were allowed through. Road blocks in Bolivia are common so everyone just sighed and then became even more irrate. Then another bus passed us and the police. Everyone stirred and started asking questions, which is when it transpired that the driver was getting a speeding ticket but didn't want to say. When he got back on, he drove like an angry maniac all the way into the city. Finally we got out and got a taxi to the main square with the French and the Brazilian. We searched around for a hotel in the dark and evetually found a place to stay. We went for dinner at a pizzeria and wandered back sleepilly to the hotel near midnight. The next day we wandered around the market but found mainly cheap jewellery and a large food market selling all sorts of unappetising stuff. We had lunch in a French restaurant, which wasn't so French but was good and then wandered some more. The next day we went to the Cathedral with French Pierre where there was a museum filled with all sorts of fancy things covered in rubies, emeralds, sapphires and pearls, as well as a chapel filled with many paintings and sculptures of people with slit throats and a painting of death, which was all a bit Pagan. The chapel was home to the famous Virgin of Guadelaupe, a painting of the Virgin Mary that was so heavily adorned with jewels and sparkly materials by worshippers that now only the face of the painting remains, covered by a huge shiny quilted dress. Then a quick look around the actual Cathedral itself which was quite modern with a good throne at the back where Wass made himself comfy. After this, we went to a little church that was rather delapidated inside but the real draw was the roof. We climbed up some narrow winding stairs and crossed a broken plank of wood to step out onto the rooftop with views over the whole city. Wass rang the bells and then sheepishly looked around when they actually made a noise. On the other side of the bell tower was a domed roof which made for lots of pictures.

We came down and headed to a cafe for appertifs. We then went to dinner and came home to crash out in our lovely hotel room.The next day was spent getting haircuts, a source of much fear for me. The hairdresser's had loads of pictures of terrible 90s bobs and fringes and the sink to wash my hair was a sink with a bucket beside it. Luckily it all turned out OK, as well as very cheap. Wass got his head shaved at a barber's where all the staff had terrible short-back-and-sides looks going on. We came back to the hotel to say goodbye to our French friend and met two new Australian ladies who became our dinner company that evening. We spent the afternoon climbing the steep streets up to a monastry on the hill, arrived and then found it closed for siesta. We wandered around the neighbourhood and saw a load of school kids trying to clamber into the back of an open truck which seemed to be the school bus. Then my sunglasses broke. We went back to the monastry and sat in a cafe below the terrace opposite playing chess and drinking iced coffee. Finally 2 o'clock came round and we were allowed in. We had to be taken around by a tour guide who showed us some pretty cloisters, a period furnished monk's bedroom and some really interesting artwork and old coins, some dating back to around the eighteenth century. We passed a library but that was off-limits so I was mildly disappointed. A quick look round the church where there was some very old carvings of impailed saints on the choir stalls and we were done. Then we headed to the textiles museum, which in my opinion was excellent for the abundance of information that was very intellectually written. Wass got a little bored of looking at weavings of horses and geometric patterns but I was taking my time and we got to see a woman making a weaving.

There was also some music illustrating the various seasonal and traditional dances of Bolivian indigenous groups which Wass had a boogey to whilst I caught him up. Then we went into the final room where Wass smacked his head on the very low door frame with an impossible to miss warning sign on it and I fell down the stairs in the same room and when I looked up, I saw two skulls in the cabinet opposite the stairwell. Definitely a haunted room! That night we went for dinner with Sue and Cherie, who were nearly old enough to be our grandparents. After some hilarious anecdotes and some beer, Cherie almost fell down the stairs leaving the restaurant. The next day we were due to fly to La Paz, having decided against another perilous bus journey and discovering it was only $50 with the Bolivian military airline. We said goodbye to Sue and Cherie and searched the markets for last minute souvenirs. Then we got a taxi to the airport and passed a major bit of building work, with a temporary overground pipe extending for a couple of miles along the road on top of a heap of rubble and a stadium being built on the hillside. When we arrived at the airport and went to check in, we were told our 14.15 flight didn't exist and that we would be flying at 16.00. Then they weighed our bags using balance scales. We spent the next three hours trying to kill time in Sucre's tiny airport. Luckily for us, there was Wifi so I could blog a little using my phone. Then something very exciting happened. There had been a small plane waiting out on the runway surrounded by Jeeps and guards. Then a sqaud of police on motorcross bikes rolled up and armed soldiers marched out onto the tarmac. A man in a suit walked out and briskly boarded the plane. I asked an old chap in the lounge what was going on and he said it was the Bolivian president who had been visiting Sucre for the international sports stadium they were building getting in the plane.

Our plane was then delayed by a further hour and then we only knew it was there when there was a final boarding call. No security checks and a funny look when I asked if I could take my water through, we boarded the plane. As we took off, we wandered when they would pressurize the cabin as this normally happens at 2,440m, but we were already at 2,700m. 15 minutes in and we were both close to being sick and felt really short of breath. Then we learned that they basically don't pressurize the cabin, they just cruise at 4,000m which is the _ height of La Paz. The sickness eased and we watched as we flew over canyons and barren craters in the rocky landsape.We arrived at the airport feeling a little rough and jumped in our transfer taxi. The first impressions of La Paz were that it was really big. Sprawling basic brick houses line the hills and in the dark it is just an endless sea of tungsten lights. We got dropped out our hostel and then got moved down the road to a building that looked like the perfect place for a James Bond fight scene and/or a crack den. An empty courtyard with a dribbling fountain, stacks of old planks in dark corners, with two wodden staircases leading up to the entirely wooden first floor that overlooked the courtyard. We dumped our things and headed for the Star of India, probably Bolivia's only British curry house. A very late and average curry down, we went back to the hotel to sleep, both feeling a little rough from the altitude. The next day we went to the Witches Market where women sell all sorts of alpaca and llama goods, including llama foetuses. The foetuses are supposed to bring good luck to your house - you burn it and then burry it under your threshold. A horrible smell of incense clung to these stalls which only made the dry, drawn foetuses even more disgusting. We wandered the normal souvenir shops and and then went to a colonial restaurant for dinner where I sampled my first llama steak, which tasted very similar to beef just with a slightly hayish flavour. On the Sunday, we made our way to San Pedro prison, the stuff of legend amongst travellers in La Paz. We passed a festival where we got some chocolate dipped marshmallows and fruit and saw some Spanish dancing, as well as a puppy that was bent on chewing its owners ankle to shreds. We got to San Pedro and saw the women queueing outside, waiting to come back to their husbands and their home in the prison. In this prison, prisoners must pay for their cell, their food and anything else they might need, including bribes to the officials to allow visitors in or allow them out supervised for a night. Most of the people are in for drug offences, major theft or murder. Others, such as rapist, don't last five minutes and are usually killed by the other prisoners or are moved to maximum security prisons for their own protection! We saw one white guy waving at us through the gates there are still plenty of tourists getting arrested for drugs trafficking in South American prisons who paid a messenger to send out to us a piece of paper with his mobile number on. Then we were approached by a homeless looking guy who offered us tours as he walked passed to avoid the attention of the guards. As another British girl in the square tried to take photos, a guard came over and asked her to delete them. She acted dumb and said her camera wasn't working, so he told us to move on and he walked off looking at us suspiciously. After British ex-inmate Thomas McFadden released a book about the prison, which showed the corruption of the penal system in Bolivia, the officials have been worried about journalists and San Pedro has been plagued by frequent damning articles. The hobo came over again and started talking to us about going into the prison Thomas used to run tours of the prison to make a living but we knew this was no longer possible and was just a scam. Then he told us "his" story, saying he was an inmate in for double murder but was allowed out during the day because he was on probation before being released in 32 days. He spoke good English and performed us a little rap for some lunch money. When we left we were skeptical as to his real identity as a prisoner. When we got back to our hostel we read about the hobo who hangs around outside pretending to be an inmate who asks for money. The next day we did the death road. We got up early to be picked up from our hostel and taken to the office for breakfast. There we met our biking companions, a Glaswegian couple. We ate breakfast, debated ou free T-shirt colours and then got in the van. We drove for a couple of hours up into the hills of La Paz to the starting point by a lake. There we got kitted up with helmets, gloves and windproof clothing and tested out our bikes. We were quite high, so a little short of breath, but thankfully the cycle is all downhill. The road was until recently used for all vehicules, including lorries, with two way traffic naivgating the narrow road only wide enough for one car barely hollowed out of the side of the mountain. The initial part is asphalt and has two lanes so that was an easy cycle with good views. Soon after a drugs checkpoint, the road turns into bumpy gravel. As we started along the deadliest part of the death road, we were already passing small wooden crosses on the side, clearly marking fatalities. We rode down with a van behind us carrying snacks and spare bikes and I soon got tired and had a sore bum so I got in the van.

We descended from the windy tops of the asphalt road all the way down to a jungle climate with tropical plants at only 900m. Wass raced ahead on his bike down the last and windiest part of the road to emerge at the end of the death road still alive. Then we all went in the van to a restaurant for a swim and some lunch. A long drive back ascending 3000m and we both felt tired. That night we had dinner at La Paz's very own Hard Rock Cafe and on the way home Wass got hit by a beggarwoman when he refused to give her money. The next morning we had to move hotels to join our tour group. Then we went looking for sunglasses and had a Chinese for lunch. We went to the Cathedral where there were narrow stairwells leading up through the walls onto the roof. We were standing inside the bell tower confused as to where to head next there had been arrows marking the route around the museum when Wass decided to try the creaking wooden staircase that had been erected on narrow planks on the inside of the tower. He climbed up carefully, treading in thick layers of bird poo and reached the top, only to find the top floor full of pigeons.

The stairs looked like they might collapse so he hurried down looking pale. We found our way around the roof and made it back inside, where a lady took us for a tour of the Cathedral itself. She showed us the various architectural elements and then took us down into the crypt where there were some very big gold urns and most interestingly, a glass box containing the ashes and the buttons from the clothing of San Francisco South America's favourite saint . That night we ate dinner in a bar full of middle aged hippy types wearing too much indigenous clothing.The next morning we got up early to take a bus to Copacabana on Lake Titicaca.

We drove for the morning as far as the narrowest point of the lake and then got on a boat to the other side whilst our coach floated across on a large barge. We got back on and drove to Copacabana for lunch. After this we went to cross the border to Peru, our destination for the evening being Puno. We crossed the little gold marker that exactly divided the two countires, got an icecream and waited to get back on our bus. A couple more hours driving, we made it to Puno in the late afternoon. We wandered the town briefly, which is really touristy and then waited for our meeting before dinner. That night I had a Peruvian speciality, cuy, or guinea pig. I tried to eat the little bits of meat off of the bones with my knife and fork and was told off by the waiter who said it is traditional to use your hands. One guinea pig and a steak down, Wass and I went back to the hotel. Another early start the next morning to go to the dock. We were told we would be picked up by limousines, which we discovered were tuk-tuks. Everyone on the tour got very excited, but we weren't so fussed after two months in Asia. However, it was made fun by one of the tuk-tuks having a sound system playing the YMCA and some tuk-tuk racing. We boarded the boat after clambering over several others and settled ouselves on the comfy seats with pillows. We sailed on the still waters of the lake for three hours before reaching Taquile island. This island is home to about 4,000 people and they have a patriarchal system. The guide explained to us all about their weddings, where the fiances have to live with eachother for two to three years in isolation to see if they can last marriage. Then when they get married everyone else has a party whilst the husband sits on a bench and the woman sits on the floor for six days staring at the ground. He also told us what they do if someone gets sicks. A shaman will put a guinea pig in a bag round the persons body and the person will sleep the night with the guinea pig on them. The next morning, the shaman will kill it and open it up to see what is wrong. If the guinea pig has a heart problem, so does the patient. Apparently this really does work because guinea pigs are very sensitive animals - if you stand next to one and scream it will die of a heart attack - and then the shaman will send the person out to pick various herbs and plants to take as a cure. We walked up to the main square of the island and saw the men standing around in their traditional dress knitting hats. Then we had trout for lunch at a restaurant with views over the lake. We got back on the boat and continued on to Amantani. When we arrived at the port, we were picked up by our "mums" who were hosting us in their homes for the night. We practised our newly learnt Quecha on her Quecha is the first language of many highland people in Peru and greeted her with "allillanchu". Our mummy was called Elsa and she walked us up to her home as she spun yarn and knitted along the way. We deposited our things in our quaint room with bed heads made from old dressers and a tiny elf-sized doorway and Elsa let us choose a woolly hat each so that she could distinguish us from the other white people because we all look the same to them . Then she walked us up to the local football field where there was a tourists vs local game which Wass played in. He stopped half way through, heaving for breath from the altitude whilst the locals happily ran around and annihilated the tourists. Then we had some hot chocolate and Elsa came to collect us for dinner. Dinner was tasty, cooked over their woodburning stove in a little mud brick kitchen. Dad, or Octavio, and the two children, Ronnie and we couldn't catch the daughter's name, came back to eat with us. We talked to the children about school, which was an hour and a half's walk away and tried to practise some more Quecha. After dinner, Elsa dressed us up in the traditional dress of her Amantanian community. Wass had a large red poncho, whilst I had a bright floral blouse with two large puffy skirts, a tight embroided waistbelt and a long black shawl for my head. We waited in the dark garden to walk to the village hall when Elsa returned from the shed with a bundle on her back and an axe which I asked about but couldn't figure out her response . We walked to the village hall where there was a band playing drums, guitars and panpipes and other members of our group were collecting for some traditional dancing. The locals were pretty energetic with their dancing and were pulling us all around the dancefloor until we were all panting for breath. Then for some partner dancing with mum and dad and a drink. Then we went home a crashed out in our little dolls-house like room under a heap of blankets. The next morning we were woken up by the daughter knocking on our door with a bucket of hot water for washing. We washed our faces and dressed for breakfast. Some pancakes and coca tea and then we walked down to the port to sat goodbye to mum. The children and Octavio were already gone to work and school. We all waved goodbye and boarded the boat for the Uros islands. We arrived amongst the reed islands and passed some reed boats. The Usor people live on islands made entirely out of reeds that float upon the water. As they pile fresh reeds onto the surface of the island, the island slowly grows to touch the bottom of the water where it then makes a really bad smell and the islanders have to build a new island to live on. They make new islands every 40 years and have to reroof their homes after every wet season. They used to eat only fish, small birds and reeds, although now they have petrol boats to go to the mainland. If a family has a disagreement with the community, their part of the island is literally cut off, deanchored and left to float away. The Uros people also make reed boats, now just a tourist attraction but they were originally used for expeditions to follow the path of the setting sun which led the Uros people to Africa. They know this because coca leaves and corn indigenous to South America have been found in Tutancamun's body. We looked around an islander's home and then looked around their stalls. Then we had a ride in the reed boat which was paddled by two men over to another island where we got back on our boat to have lunch and head back to Puno.That afternoon we wandered around the town, ate some popcorn, and came back for some cable TV before dinner. That night we went to a restaurant with traditional dancing and music and really good food. We both sampled some alpaca and I had a traditional corn pudding too. The dancing was particularly energitic, with an enthusiastic and animated panpipist and a guy with a ukalele. The dancers did various dances where they acted out drunkeness, marital fights, rape and just general rough and tumble, pulling eachother to the floor and staggering about. Then some more formalised dancing with lots of spinning. The girls wore tiny sequined skirts under their large billowing ones and towards the end came out in some crazy metallic minidresses and platform boots which looked made them look more like an Abba tribute band. There was also a condor dance where the blokes wore some huge feather covered masks and a man in a black cape with a scary gold mask that made me jump out of my seat when I turned round to see him looming behind me.

Sat Aug 22, 2009 Full Page

We went back to the square to wait for our jeep to arrive and get going. As we were waiting around, the tour agent beckoned us over to take a look down the road at the event that was unfolding. An angry mob had gathered in the road because they had caught a car theif who had been stealing local cars for a while. The mob were shouting and interrogating him and soon got the names of three others involved, including a woman. The agent told us, "It's simple for them to get the others'names, they just beat the guy until he gives in." So we asked if this was a regular occurence in the little town of Uyuni. "Oh yeah, a beggar stabbed a woman in the market place a while ago because she wouldn't give him money and the people tried to set him on fire." Right. It later transpired that the car thieves were the kids of local police and that the maximum sentence for this kind of crime is 30 years in Bolivia!The jeep turned up two hours late, at first we thought because of the disruption the mob was causing but we soon realised otherwise. Seven of us piled into the jeep with our bags stored under tarpaulins on the roof. We drove just outside of the town to the train graveyard where the first trains in Bolivia steam trains! have been dumped in the desert.

We returned to the town to get 2 barrals of petrol because you don't find that in the desert and take the road to the slat flats when the car conked out. A taxi turned up and a guy got out to help us. He lifted the bonnet and then beating a part of the engine with a giant hex key. The car started again but conked out again just as we got moving. More faffing under the bonnet and pushing but it wasn't working - the filter was blocked, apparently. So then we drove come rolled to someone's house to get it fixed. "Quinze minutos, solo!" Thirty minutes later, feeling annoyed that we might miss out on some sights, we all begrudgingly got back in the car armed with a route map to make sure we wouldn't miss what the tour agent had promised we would see. We drove on a very long straight track past more nothingness and a few mountains. Then, we could just make out a block of white in the horizon - the salar or salt flats . As we approached we passed a salt processing factory which is really just large heaps of dried salt being put into sacks and loaded onto trucks.

Then we reached that endless expanse of white that has been captured in millions of photos. People try all sorts of funny and clever photos as you have no sense of perspective on the salar. For example...

It was really hot and the salt reflected the sun so that it was blinding without sunglasses. Photos done, we were chivvied back into the jeep and drove on for lunch. Lunch was brought out from the back of the jeep, so slightly cold, and was taken at a salt table on salt chairs outside a salt hotel. After lunch and some more photos, we headed in the direction how the driver could get his bearings here I don't know of Isla de Pescado, or Fish Island. We arrived at about 5pm and were given half an hour to explore. The island was once an island in the middle of a sea the salt flats are the remains of a dried up ocean now crowded with cacti. The walk was steep in parts and we were heaving for breath after every few steps. Some of the cacti were dated as 1,200 years old and stood about 12m tall so 1m every 100 years and the island was totally untouched.

After taking in the surrealness of a rocky island in the middle of 12,000m3 of salt, we hopped back into the jeep. We stopped again about an hour later to wave goodbye to the salar and take photos of the sunset.

We clambered on top of the jeep for photos and started to feel the cold as the sun went down. We set off again for the hostel which we reached after a bumpy ride at about 7pm. The generator was turned on just after we arrived and unloaded our stuff so we enjoyed the light but no heating for two more hours as we chatted and ate a relatively tasty meal of chicken drumsticks and chips, along wth animal biscuits and tea.

Then we readied ourselves for bed and got cosy, before lights out, under numerous blankets. Everyone in the room was snoring all night long, some due to altitude and some due to beer! Wass didn't sleep so well but I slept comfortably, positively sweating by morning due to being under 5 blankets, a fleece-lined sleeping bag, silk liner, four tops and a woolly jumper!The next morning we were woken at 6am for which we were grateful as our guide had said 5am! We fumbled around for 10 minutes before the generator was turned on again, reluctant to get out of bed. Breakfast was just bread and jam so we were already looking forward to lunch. We drove a very bumpy first hour as the sun slowly crept up but we managed to hook my iPod up to the radio, which was sheer relief after listening to the same two Bolivian pop songs on repeat the day before. Then, we got stuck in a sand drift, although at first we feared that the engine had died again in the middle of the desert. The driver made us all get out and the 5 boys had to push whilst me and the other girl stood beside cold and shaking our heads. Luckily, the jeep got moving again, although Wass' shoes were filled with sand. We drove for a couple more hours and stopped at a volcano to take photos and have a pee.

We carried on to a very smelly sulphurous blue lagoon where there were some flamingos far off in the water.

Then onto another lagoon with more flamingos where we stopped for lunch. There are three different types found in the area, one of which is theJames flamingo, something quite exciting for bird nerds.

The wind was cold and we were all huddled around a picnic table eating cold rice and chicken schnitzel as jeep loads of more tourists arrived.

After this we headed up to the blue lagoon where I opened the door to get out and my glove fell out and started blowing away down the steep gravel slope. I ran to get it, comically chasing it as it kept blowing another foot every time I tried to grab it. Thoroughly exhausted, I turned around and saw that everyone had decided against getting out to take photos and they were watching my slow ascent back up the hill to the jeep. I jumped back in and we drove out into the desert again. After another hour driving, we got out to take photos of the Seven Coloured Mountains.

A short drive again and we reached the Rock Tree ie a rock that looks like a tree that is said to have inspired Salvador Dali' paintings. We got out of the car and coughed up the endless amounts of dust that had been piling in through the windows and doors the whole day the jeep had seen better days and only one door opened, the other was wedged on by the roof rack .

Wass climbed some rocks for a photo and was huffing and puffing for the next 10 minutes. We all got back into the jeep feeling stiff and dirty from the dust. Next stop was the red lagoon which our driver told us is red because of the movements of the fish in the water, or something like that which didn't really make sense. Here we encountered some llamas who quickly moved on at our approach.

We drove to the hostel for the next hour along another bumpy, dusty track and arrived at around 4pm. We then had to amuse ourselves for the next four hours before dinner with a pack of cards and some baby wipes. The baby wipes were useful as there no hot showers so cleaned our hands and faces and the wipes were a worrying shade of brown over tea and animal biscuits again. The three kids of the hostel owner were intrigued by us and we asked them about their life. Did they go to school? No. Do they not feel cold in just trousers and a shirt? No. How did they warm in the night? They three slept in the same bed. The little girl was hoarding animal biscuits probably a real treat for her whilst the boys were trying to foil our games of cards by announcing our hands. The sun went down and it got really chilly. Then dinner was served and we got ready for bed as it went dark and the generator was going off. That night was terrible, colder than the one before, Wass was sick and we were both kept awake with palpitations from the altitude. The next morning we were up at 5am to go to the geysers which can't be seen in daylight. Then onto the thermal springs for a dip, although neither of us felt up to it, and a good breakfast of pancakes and fruit muesli with yoghurt.

Then we drove to Laguna Colorado, a green lagoon, took some more photos and pile back into the jeep for the last time.

We then had an eight hour drive back to Uyuni where we passed through valleys and some rivers! We saw people from one of the remote communities washing in a river and we were lucky enough although I wasn't quick enough with my camera to see a fox in the tracks ahead of us. A quick stop for a very unsatisfying lunch of pasta and tinned tuna, we continued on for what felt like forever. Finally we made it back to Uyuni at around 6pm and the first thing on our to-do list was a hot shower!

Fri Aug 21, 2009 Full Page

We arrived in Salta early in the morning after a sleepless bus journey. The first thing that hit us as we waited for our bags was the cold. Salta lies at 1,200m so itapos9s cold in the evenings and really hot during the day. We breakfasted and checked into our hostel and then went to explore the town. The main square was very pretty with a large pink cathedral and candle street lamps. We tried to go to the Archealogical Museum but found it was closed on Mondays. Instead we walked in the direction of a another church and a convent and then to the bus station to book our tickets to La Quiaca. After this we decided to go for lunch at a cafe near our hostel so walked in the blazing sun back into town. One very tasty and cheap steak down, we headed in the direction of the shopping centre in search of hiking boots for when we go to Peru and climb Machu Picchu. We had a brief stop at the arcade for Wass to satisfy his "Time Crisis 3" obsession of late and then found some familiar brands at overly familiar prices. Another walk through the hot sun back into the centre. We wandered down the main shopping streets that sold mostly tat and were crowded with popcorn vendors. That evening we walked towards the trendy strip of restaurants and bars where there was also a small alley of artesan shops where Wass purchased himself a mate cup and straw the utensils used to brew and drink the Argentinians drink of choice, yerba mate tea . Then we had dinner in a funky cafe with records for placemats and pictures of old American stars. I sampled my first Indian curry since leaving England which certainly could not compete with any British curry. Then we powerwalked home through the cold. The next day we went up the city gondola to check out the views. At the top we feasted on steak sandwich and strawberry milkshake and basked in the sun. After finding very little else apart from views and a few market stalls, we headed back down to go to the artistapos9s market on the other side of the city. We then walked for what felt like an eternity in the direction of the market which was off the map so we didnapos9t exactly know how far it was going to be and stopped to buy some fruit and then caught the bus 6 blocks on the advice of a local man. Finally we made it and looked around for the next hour, browsing mate cups, llama jumpers and weavings. We left empty handed and went back to the hostel to recuperate. We went back to the bar strip for dinner to a restaurant that does live music but we arrived too early and it was totally empty bearing in mind we were there at 8pm! . On the Wednesday we went back to the museum. All of the exhibits were in Spanish so Wass lost interest pretty rapidly as I slowly read and tried to understand each plaque. The museum had various pieces which were part of the dowry of three child sarifices discovered in the Argentinian Andes, such as combs, pots, tunics, fetish dolls and weaving tools. There were some very detailed gold pieces, such as miniature llamas and hairpins. The dolls and llamas were supposed to represent important parts of Inca life. Then we moved into the most interesting room where one of the child mummies was on display still with all of her hair, teeth and clothes. They were all perfectly preserved for 500 years because of the high altitude although one had been struck by lightening at some point. I was creeped out but Wass was having a close look as he didnapos9t believe the mummy was real. The we went through some more rooms which were less interesting and were about the Andean region and climate. Wass jumped out of his skin at one part of the exhibition. There was a mirrored panel in the wall which he was pressing his nose against to see inside. Then he saw the button beside the mirror to illuminate the exhibition, pressed it and was suddenly face to face with an open-mouthed and very rotting mummy. We left the museum and searched the town some more for hiking boots but to no avail. I bought myself a very fashionable llama jumper to keep out the cold on our way to Bolivia. That evening we had a traditional highlands meal of lentil and pumpkin stews and then dressed up warmly for our night bus to La Quiaca. We boarded at midnight and had a sleepless night as we ascended 2000m with the driver blaring out his music and putting the lights on during the stops throughout the night. We arrived at 7am in La Quiaca and it was so bloody cold we could hardly put our extra layers on for violently shivering. It was dark and dusty and had that felling of remoteness. We got a taxi to the border and then spent the next half an hour in the cold waiting in the immigration queue. Once we passed to the Bolivian side there were loads of indigenous people milling around with babies and parcels tied to their backs with cloth. There were a few money exchanges but apart from that, you really wouldnapos9t know you were a few steps from the Argentinian border. We got another taxi to the train station where we had read up in our guidebook you can buy tickets to get to Uyuni. We arrived at 7.15am Bolivian time knowing that the station was not open until 8am. Nonetheless, the waiting room was already half full and we were given ticket number 14 in the queue. We spent the next 45 minutes waiting in the cold bare room as it slwoly filled with locals and other travellers looking to get the few tickets available on the train that only runs twice weekly. A woman came round selling hot drinks and bread for which we were both very grateful and I had my first expereince of Bolivian tea with milk. A hot cup of milk with a tea bag! The ticket office finally opened, by which time the station was positively heaving but the ticket man was in no hurry. After almost another hour we got our executive tickets to Uyuni for that afternoon. After this we went in search of gloves and blankets. We both got some fetching alpaca mittens and Wass got a Rugrats fleece blanket, a small rucksack and some sunglasses which havenapos9t managed to last up to this blog update . Then we found a cafe advertising pizza and sandwiches where we went into to kill time. We sat down on the sofa and started on our first cup of tea, still cold and tired, although unaffected by the altitude. The owner turned up and seated herself in front of the bad Spanish crime shows playing on the telly and gave us more tea. Then she handed us some notebooks. We opened them up to find notes written in every hand; English, French, Spanish, German, Norwegian, Dutch, Isreali, Japenese, Korean... the list goes on - all thank yous from travellers waiting for trains and buses out of Villazon with no other place to go, the most recent being just two days before. We sampled the pizza which was highly recommended by many of the people and then we went in search of a blanket for me. I had a comical dialogue with a shopkeeper after first choosing an orange and blue dolphin fleece blanket, only to spot a Mickey and Minnie one. I went to pick it up and he said "Es para los niños" Itapos9s for kids so I asked, "Es mas pequeño?" Is it smaller? . "No, pero es para los niños." "Pero me lo gusta!" But I like it! "Señorita, es para los niños." Cue the same exchange about three times more until he finally understood I like the one with Disney on it!

Sun Aug 09, 2009 Full Page

After our horseride we came back and had lunch and then went on a jeep safari in the afternoon. On the safari we saw loads of caiman and got close enough to get some good photos. Wass managed to infiltrate a group of capybaras and creep up very close to them whilst the rest of us chased the caiman and watched a three legged capybara hobble along. We got back in the truck and trundled down the dusty track. Interestingly, we passed a restaurant and convenience store God knows whose business they get in the middle of nowhere and a couple of cowboys in their chaps and hats. We also saw more jabaroo stalks, herons and a deer. We stopped to go for a walk and on our walk found an armadillo which look really weird up close , a monkey and a racoon. As the sun set, we drove back and saw some tarantula and the glowing eyes of the caimen. The next morning we went for a walk around the farm and found another amardillo and a family of monkeys - mum was even holding a baby. We came back and finished packing, ate lunch and were then bundled into the jeep. We were all totally squashed with 20 people and their bags and it got pretty chilly driving as the weather had really cooled down and the wind was picking up. When we arrived at the edge of the Pantanal I made sure I used the toilet in the empty police hut and then got on board a coach for Campo Grande. We finally arrived back at the hostel and then hunted for some food. The hostel was a hive of activity as everyone was moving on that night, many going on the same bus as us to Foz do Iguacu. We got on the bus with our friends from the last few days and settled into our seats. People got on and off througout the night so we all slept poorly, not helped by only being in semi-cama service meaning half-bed, not fully reclining . Early the next morning we arrived in chilly Cascavel and disembarked. A cappucino and a few good mornings later, it was already time for our next bus to Foz. We arrived in Foz at 9am and checked in to our hostel along with our Scottish policewoman backpacker friend, Jackie. After nearly a full day without a proper meal, we three headed for a sure-bet - McDonaldapos9s - where we featsed and then waited for a bus to the Iguazu falls.When we arrived, we decided to go to the aviary first. The aviary, although not cheap, turned out to be pretty good. All sorts of toucans were flying about the enclosures which you could go into, as well as parrots and other unidentified birds. We wondered through the various parts, where we met flamingos, Mandarin ducks, eagles and some emu. We got to the parrot enclosure where two yellow ones were sitting on a branch next to the fence so I put my camera up really close to get a picture. But then the worst happened - one of the little buggers leaned forward and pinched the front of my camera! Desperate to get it out of its mouth, we tried to coax him to let go which he finally did, dropping the cap into the bark. There was no hope of salvaging it, so we moved on.After the aviary we headed to the falls themsleves where we caught a bus to the beginning of the walk. The walk was about 1km, almost straight along the edge of the bank opposite the falls. The views were great. As we got nearer, there was a mist in the air that made it quite cold but gave you an idea of the power of the water. Right near the falls was a walkway where we ended up getting soaked and subsequently, really cold. We wandered up to a viewpoint where we saw the sun just beginning to set over the falls but had to leave as the last buses were taking people back down. We spent the next hour shivering on the bus and all the way to the supermarket. We came back to the hostel where the room was polar too and cooked and tried to warm up.The next morning we left for the Argentinian side. We planned a day of sorting some things out and were anticipating some problems crossing the border because immigration wouldnapos9t stamp our passports in Brazil . That morning I found three ticks bites and an unidentified bug still attached to my body from the Pantanal. Rough. We managed to get across the border just fine, much to the surprise of the hostel staff. When we arrived we asked where we could get my camera fixed and they advised us to go to Paraguay. The falls border Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay and you can hop on public buses freely from one to another. So we did. Walking into Paraguay was manic with electronics shops everywhere, stiffling car fumes and crampt streets. We walked into an electronics mall where we spent a couple of hours going from shop to shop being told 'We can fix this' only to be told 10 minutes later 'No es possible'. After a few frustrating hours, we called it a day and went home. That night we wandered around the town and through an artist's market.The next day we went to the falls. The first thing we did was a safari and boat ride. The safari was fruitless which was expected but the boat ride was nice. The sun was already beating down and the boat was cruising up the river towards the rapids and the falls. We had been warned about getting very wet some stripped down as far as was acceptable our standards were relatively modest in comparison to one guy who did the ride in just his pants and put our things in a big waterproof bag. The rapids were bumpy and fun and then we got to the falls where impressive views were had. After some photos and warnings to put our cameras away into the wet bags the boat headed towards the actual falls. There is no describing what the next bit felt like apart from absolutely bloody freezing! You couldn't look up to see the falls as there was so much mist stinging your eyes. Huge splashes of water came into the boat wich felt like buckets of ice water being tipped into your lap and down your neck. The boat reversed, and I was just thanking God, when it went in a second time. By this moment I had already decided I did not want to go under again but I was powerless. Wass was laughing and shivvering whilst I was trying to catch my breath from the shock of the cold. Then we reversed again and went back round the corner to the other falls and as you can guess, went under. Finally the whole experience was over and we pulled up at the steps leading up the banks. Cursing and dripping, we walked up the steps to find a spot to recloth and dry off a little. I spent the next few hours still wet as we wondered round the park whilst Wass was warm and dry as he had taken his shirt off. The views of the falls from the Argentina side are much better than the Brazilian side, being very close and numerous. We happened to bump into an old school friend and spent the rest of the afternoon with him talking about Bolivia and seeing the falls. The best part was definitely the walkway out over them called the Devil's Throat. It is a long bridge the extends all the way over the river and has two viewing platforms built right on top of where the river cascades 80m into the misty pool below. You wouldn't want to drop your camera here! The water is fast, powerful and seriously loud.The next day we had a bus to catch to go to Cordoba. We boarded at 1pm after running to catch it do not underestimate uphill running with backpacks, even after 4 months practice! . We spent the next 22 hours very comfortably in our super first class bus being served drinks and afternoon tea whilst watching English power ballads and movies. Dinner was a veritable feast! However, we had a rather uncomfortable night because we were thirsty and couldn't find our bus attendant.The next morning we arrived in Cordoba and walked to our hostel. That day we did very little which seems to sum up most of our time in Cordoba . We wandered past the main sights and the bustling market on the street outside our hostel. Then we went to the shopping sentre to look for hiking boots but the mission was soon aborted in favour of the arcade upstairs. Cordoba is a funny place where poverty and wealth are equally exaggerated and there are loads of stray dogs and blind people reasons for this are unknown to us . In the afternoon we played electronic world Monopoly. I was outraged thatYesterday we wandered into the Jesuit monastry and the city's oldest university. In the university we couldn't seems to find any exhibitions or tourist plaques o after some noseying, wandered out only for the gate to be locked behind us and walk 30m further down the street to find the tourist entrance. Then we realised that the guard must have assumed we were students when he let us pass. We wlaked down to the cathedral which was impressive but was closed and into the 'Paseo del Buen Pastor' where a guard tried to explain what it was when I asked if we were in a church. After a very verbose and rapid explanation he said 'Entiendo?' Answering no was a bad idea. The explanation was repeated. He finally gave up on us and gave us a leaflet which was far more helpful. Then we wandered towards the botom of town and had a leisurely lunch in a cafe down a little side passage where we soaked up the sun and drank lemonade.In the evening we returned to town for the artist's market where we browsed everything from mate cups to antiques and kaleidoscopes. We snacked on popcorn, homemade cakes and dulce de leche sweets.Today we slept in and had a delicious lunch at a busy restaurant on the other side of town. Tonight we are going to our last Argentinian destination, Salta.

Tue Aug 04, 2009 Full Page

The next morning our roommates got up far too early to be sociable because that's the way it is in Brazil. God knows what there was to see in the city at 6am. We got up at a more normal hour. That morning we got on a bus to book our bus ticket, which was a long way and the bus ended up in a very dodgy looking area of town before arriving at the bus station. On the way we passed a park that was home not only to some cross bred ducks and geese but some funny little rodents that looked like large guinea pigs walking on only their hind legs. Our Portuguese was not up to further inquiry so we are still none the wiser as to what they are. At the bus station we bought our tickets for the 22 hour bus journey to Campo Grande and watched our backs closely. Then to find a bus to take us on to the Christ the Redeemer. A little further down the road we jumped on and tried to take in the route, and we soon discovered our bus was taking a very round route to our destination.We arrived at the Christ to find a large queue for the ticket office and nowhere for lunch. Then we realised we didn't have enough cash and most places in Brazil do not take Visa so Wass went on an ATM hunt. As I queued I watched endless tourists pass by, many Brazilian. All the women had perfect French manicures and many were wondering around in Brazil's signature shoe - the toweringly tall and chunky wedge. Wass arrived just as I reached the front of the queue having had to sprint to the next town to find a cash machine. In his hand he also had some popcorn so we feasted, briefly, before queuing again for the tram. The tram up was full and made even fuller by three guys playing samba on drums through the carriage. We reached the top and began walking the stairs that lead up to the foot of the Christ. Initially, you can only see his back and it is only as you walk around the platform below him that you can see his face. The platform was packed and people were lying on the ground to try and get a decent photo. Every few minutes a helicopter would arc through the sky carrying those desperate for the best view. We pushed through the crowds and took in the views of Rio from the edge, which are not quite as good as Sugarloaf but still nice. A few photos later, we wandered back down to a lower level looking for a toilet. Then we took the lift up a sensible idea to the cafe for a snack and a dulce de leche Magnum ice cream. Just as I was considering one more peek at the Christ, a thick mist descended on the trees just below us and the cold set in. We hurried to the tram station and managed to beat the rush of people, so bagged ourselves prime seats on the tram. From the foot of the tramway we had to walk for more cash and then hopped on a bus where the driver instructed us to sit at the front with him and wouldn't let us through the turnstile to the back. He was probably doing us a favour on a Rio bus at night but we were perplexed. After passing through almost every district of Rio to get back we got off and went to the supermarket where a helpful assistant spoke surprisingly good English. He weighed our fruit and told us very politely, 'Sorry to keep you waiting,' before waving me off. Then I hear him call, 'Miss, miss!' Just as I turn around he says, 'Miss, your undies!' Mortified, I realise my jeans have slipped down. Wass nearly wets himself and I shuffle out of the supermarket blushing and amazed at his knowledge of such words.The next day was spent preparing ourselves for our bus journey buying rations and packing. We got on the bus at 1pm after a delicious lunch at the bus station and settled ourselves. The time went quite quickly as it was punctuated by stops at a 'pay per kilo' restaurant where we found a dulce de leche chocolate treat , and one where the bus drove away, much to my dismay, to refuel. Only one incident to report which is that I got locked in the bus toilet and was almost banging the door down before being saved. The handle clicked and I expected to see Wass standing there, but instead there was a middle aged Brazilian lady beaming at me and motioning at the stiffness of the doorhandle. I sat back down and Wass just turned and said, 'Where have you been?' The rest of the journey was spent comfortably enough aboard our executive bus.The next day we arrived in Campo Grande early and stumbled into our hostel across the road from the bus station. We breakfasted and booked a tour to the Pantanal for the following day. We went for lunch at a place recommended by our guidebook which was a fair walk across town, stopping in at the tourist information centre which turned out to be a particularly futile exercise as they spoke no English and hardly any Spanish. Lunch was amazing - a quality Italian buffet with more vegetables and tasty treats than you could shake a stick at. We walked home and bought some dulce de leche fudge for pudding on our way. The next morning the sun was shining and we got up early to embark on our tour into the Pantanal. We bumped into a lady from our hostel in Rio so talked with her most of the way. Unfortunately, we both began to need the toilet less than an hour after leaving. The toilet stop wasn't for an hour. As we both became gradually more desperate, we were looking for lay-bys or suitable bushes but with no success. Then we hit road works and stood still for far too long, at which point Wass grabbed the opportunity. I attempted to fashion myself a newspaper shield and just as I hopped out and started arranging my shield, I realised that the world and his dog were trailed behind our bus and were watching. A thumbs up from the man in the car behind was enough to coax me back in and the traffic began to move again. Finally we arrived at the stop and I hobbled inside at high speed, only to be greeted by a very large buffet. I almost cried at a very startled man, 'Donde esta el bano?!!!' and he pointed round the corner. Relief.After a four hour bus journey us and our bags were bundled into a safari truck to be taken into the Pantanal. It was pretty cosy and we got to know our friends for the next few days as the sun beat down on our backs and clouds of dust rose from the back tyres. We were shown around the lodge and much to our amazement, a toucan was perching on the bar and being fed by a little girl. Wass christened him 'Toucy' and we spent the next four days trying to persuade him down from his regular tree spot. There was also a macaw hanging around on the roof. That night we went on a short cruise down the river near to the lodge to see the eyes of the caiman which glow red under torchlight. We also saw a heron and a capybara, the largest rodent in the world. It is brown furred and looks like a stouter and stockier beaver. The next morning we got up early to go piranha fishing at the river. We fished with bamboo rods under the gaze of the caiman who were waiting on the bank for our catches to be fed to them. Wass was the first to catch a piranha, hooking it through its belly. I was second to catch one properly, with the hook in its mouth and many followed from other members of the group. As well as piranhas, we pulled up small catfish, sardines and one girl even caught a mussel � as bizarre as that sounds. We had our fish for lunch and then relaxed before going out on a boat trip in the afternoon. On the boat tip we saw all sorts, from the jabaru stalk the symbol of the Pantanal to giant otters, a kingfisher, monkeys, more caiman and capybaras and lots of birds I don't remember the names of.The next day we went horseriding in the morning on stubby Pantanal horses. The trail went through forest and the river, although my horse was intent on staying dry until he had to wade through it to cross. Wass spent his time up the front with his obedient horse whilst I sighed and huffed at my slow, lazy and stubborn horse that didn't move at any great pace without constant kicking or the lash of the cowboys whip.

Wed Jul 29, 2009 Full Page

That night we had an asado, or BBQ, which left much to be desired and also left us oggling at the amount of salt the Uruguayans like on their food they like their meat white! . The next day we got on a bus to Montevideo and arrived just after lunchtime. We got some popcorn and caught the bus to our hostel, near to Pocitos beach. Once we had checked in, we made our way to a restaurant in our guidebook. Being a Sunday, it was packed so we went and had a chivito instead a pimped up burger, with bacon, ham and cheese . Then we wondered down to the beach in the afternoon, where it was quite cold and very empty, it being Uruguayapos9s winter. We took in the 80's glamour of the beachfront and then headed back where we played a game of Monopoly on the hostel's dedicated and very accurately painted Monopoly table. After a bit of struggling along in Spanish with the `Suerte' and `Arca Comunal' cards and some fierce competitive spirit, the game was over and we aited for another hostel grill for dinner. The next morning the sun was out so we headed into the centre of Montevideo after another quick wander to the beach. We caught the bus and ended up gettin off in the worng place. After stopping to ask a man how to get to the central square, we gleened from his South American Spanish not to wander too far down these streets. We hurried along to the square where there was a large monument. We walked down a pedestrianised street where there were market stalls and many a dog poo. Then we went in search of a bigger market down towards the water but found only empty streets and an empty square. Back to the main square where we had lunch in a place full of businessmen eating the set lunch menu, which included a pudding of creme caramel with a large scoop of dulce de leche. Delicious. AFter lunch we wandered down the street until we reached the water where there wa a port and to the right and men fishing all along a pier on the left. We hung around for a while and then caught the bus back where we met someone form our hostel. Along the journey two men with guitars boarded the bus and started busking. Uruguayans love their gaucho music and everyone on the bus seemed quite appreciative rather than irritated by the men and their music. That night, we decided to go and see Harry Potter with our friend Alex from he hostel. We wandered through the streets of Montevideo in search of the shopping complex and remarked how quiet it was for was a capital city. We found our mall and got our tickets, seated ourselves amongst all the other HP fans. It was funny getting all the jokes before the Uruguayans who obviously had to read the subtitles, and some of the translations of the place names and incantations were a bit weird. The film over, we walked home and even MacDonald's was closed for the night by midnight. The next day we woke up to pouring rain. We spent the day inside as it didn't relent and whiled away the hours with more Monopoly, chess and cards. After lunch, Wass was still hungry so ventured forth to get a chivito. He came back dripping wet, much to the amusement of everyone in the hostel, but grinning. One chivito down, Monopoly continued. That evening we had fun running to the supermarket, myself wearing flip flops and rolled up jogging bottoms, Wass in sports gear. The people in the supermarket were looking at us strangely, partly because South Americans take their appearence very seriously and also because we just looked ridiculous. Then we had a good 20 minute hunt for sour cream, trying to decipher it from the tens of other pots of cream cheese. We spent the night with people in the hostel and met the hooker for the Uruguayan rugby team.The next morning we got up, packed and ate a quick brunch, ready for our flight to Rio. We had a bit of trouble finding the right bus as we had to change somewhere in town for the airport, but we made it. The bus slowly started filling up as it headed out of town and we were getting bored . Finally we spy the airport, which is really small for Uruguay's largest airport and check in. After check in, we try to through the gate but the lady at the desk is saying something about `una tasa'. She points to a kiosk that says `Aiport Departure Tax'. Cheekily, they take a further US$25 from us. Through security and into the duty free area which is exactly the same as the UK but tiny. We had some language issues buying a bar of Milka but we made it eventually. Then we boarded our flight to Sao Paulo and had some decent fare onboard. At Sao Paulo, we had to wait in a queue for over an hour to get through immigration, where they don't even give you a stamp because Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay and Parauay have a kind of EU, open borders arrangement. Finally we got to boarding and were ridiculosly thirsty by this time. A short flight later, we arrive in Rio de Janeiro. At the airport we hunted around for an ATM and then booked a very pricey taxi to our hostel because taking a bus is too dangerous. We arrive at our hostel which is down a guarded street in the Botafogo district. We checked in and went for dinner at a local place. It was heaving as there was a football game on it's no joke that the Brazilians go nuts for football and we had our first experience with the Portuguese language barrier. We ordered chicken and some other stuff for 2 and what arrived was a mammoth platter of snitzel, fried lardons, fried banana, rice, black beans, tomatoes, peas and palm hearts. We made our way steadily through the mound of food and then returned to the hostel. In the morning we headed over to Carioca to go to Santa Teresa. We had intended to go up on the tram but when we reached the station it was really busy. An American couple were looking at the queue too and we approached them. We ended up sharing a taxi with them and got out at a little shop up the hill. We left them brosing and went for lunch next door. We walked up the hill, in search of the heart of Santa Teresa and were left disappointed after finding very little. As the streets got emptier and emptier we started to wander what we had missed, and thought we should just walk as far as the top of the tram. A man pulled up beside us and asked us if we spoke English. He asked where we were going and told us not wander down any of the steps that led down the hils as that's where the ghettos are. He told us, `Big trouble if you end up in the ghetto.' You could see the shanty houses all jossling for a place on the hillside, stacked on top of eachother, crowded and shadey. We hurried along and then decided to wait at a bus stop and hail the tram down as it passed. Aftera while it came and it was full, so we squeezed onto the side, holding onto the outside and feet on a narrow plank. The tram was noisy and erratic and the people in the front kept shouting, cheering and singing, probably just grateful that we were all still unhurt on this crazy ride. At points the gap between the tram and the walls of houses was less than a foot and I would have had my elbow shaved off if it wasn't for the man behind me putting his arm around me and ramming me into the handrail. Then for the scary bridge, an old viaduct. The back of my shoe got scraped by the bridge - thankfully I wasn't wearing flip flops. We made it down alive, having passed a nicer looking bit of the district further down. The next day, we were waiting for our laundry to get some clean underwear and were told it woulnd't be done till 2pm. We finally decided to go to the mall and get some pants so we didn't watse the whole day. After much searching, Wass found himself a bright yellow pair of hotpants and I found some zebra pants, and not taking the advise of the shop lady, bought medium and not small as they looked pretty damn small. When we got back, we donned our purchases and medium turned out to be rather skimpy and wedgifying and as we were about to leave, it started to rain heavily. We still decided to go out with a trusty large umbrella. We went to Centro, where the national theatre and library are and some other nice colonial buildings. The theatre was very elaborate,with large green domes and gold decorations and we walked further up the street in search of more buildings. the rest was very uniteresting and we wandered down a side street to have aBob's burger for lunch. Cue language problems. Then we walked back and went into the library to occupy ourselves. A very grand staircase and floors of beautiful arches greeted us. We asked to go in but were told we had to go on a tour, but that the tours were all fully booked for the day. We returned to the hostel and spent the rest of the afternoon talking to an American called Curtis who helped coordinate the Obama campaign in Oregan.The next day we went to the famous Copacabana beach. There wasn't a great deal to see of the beach, it was the people that were interesting. All the men wear Speedos and the ladies wear skimpy bikinis, no matter what size they are. People go running in lycra outfits and hazelnut tans, with thong tan lines and try to look cool by playing volleyball. Then we went to Ipenema beach, the posher and less faded beach next to Copacabana after a long stop at the iconic Havaianas shop. We walked to the rocks and had a view over the two beaches and then went back as the skies turned grey. That evening we were in the supermarket when we saw a couple of nuns doing their shopping, and even the nuns managed to look dolled up in strappy sandals, toting handbags.The following morning we moved hostels and went to the hippie market near the beach. The usual touristy knick knacks, as well as some nice paintings and very nice Brazilian cakes we left and had lunch. Then we got a taxi to Sugarloaf, a large granite outcrop that gives great views of Rio. We got in a big cable car where Brazilians were jossling for a view and reached the halfway point where we got out. We took in the views and then got in the next cable car. At the top, it was really busy but this didn't detract fro the views which were really god. The sun was just starting to set so there was a red light to the sky and the city lights were just starting to come on. It slowly got dark as we watched planes flying below us, almost scraping the water as they landed at the airport. Then we came back down and got a cab back.That evening was spent in queues for the one of two bathrooms in a hostel housing about 40 people, all of them Brazilian. They were dolling themselves up for half the evening, and we could forgive them as it was a Sunday so we assumed they were going out. But they all tottered out in their wedges and manicured nails, only to return after dinner. Meanwhile, a crazy Portuguese lady with an afro was helping us in the kitchen and talking to herself, whilst endessly lighting up.The next morning our roommates got up far too early to be sociable

Now Click "full page" to see big photos

Thu Jul 09, 2009 Full Page

After the tour finished we headed into town for some typical NZ lunch, consisting of pie and more pie. After this and a quick hunt around the souvenir shops we went back to the hostel where we bumped into the KES boys, again, and spent an afternoon chatting and eating burnt popcorn. In the evening we went to Tamaki, an authentically reproduced Maori village in the forest just outside Rotorua for a Maori cultural evening. A chief was chosen to represent our bus and when we alighted we had to wait patiently to be greeted by the resident Maori tribe. Calls started echoing from the woods and then rustling and snapping twigs were quickly followed by the appearance of a warrior clad in loincloth and tribal tattooes, brandishing a stick. He began an elaborate sort of warrior dance coming almost nose to nose with our chief. His eyes were popping out and his tongue was stuck out a sign of defiance as he roared intimidatingly. Then more faces appeared from the wall protecting the village, some male, some female mostly indistinguishable as Maori women are not as blessed with looks as their male counterparts . Then more warriors approached and strutted their stuff, followed by the chief. A stick was laid before our chief's feet, a test of the visiting tribes intent. If you pick the stick up, you come in peace. We were finally allowed to enter the village after the chiefs greeted eachother by pressing their foreheads and noses together twice. We followed some Maori women dressed in fur capes into the village where various huts were displaying typical Maori activites, from fighting practise to games and weaving. The fighting practise was intense, as was the graphic description of how war weapons were used - one was a small hand paddle used for decapitating enemies! Then we proceeded into the auditorium where there was some singing and dancing, as well as some traditional poi twirling. After this, it was time for our Maori feast prepared in the hangi. Basically, a hole is dug in the ground and timbers are laid over over it and lit. Stones placed on the timbers are gradually heated and then the timbers burn away and the stones fall to the bottom of the pit. Food is wrapped up in water-saturated hemp and then placed on top of the stones. Earth is placed on top of the food and it is left for about six hours to steam. It was quite tasty and meatwas in abundance, although I had a slightly soily tasting bit of chicken! After this was the goodbye and then back home aboard our waka Maori word for transport, usually a wooden boat singing songs. We left Roturua and its rather unpleasant pong behind the next day. We arrived in Auckland mid-afternoon and checked in, only to find the boys yet another time. The evening was spent in the hostel bar with them playing poker, followed by a speed pool competition and a half an hour free bar madness! . We also saw the USA under 19s basketball team in the kebab shop, who were imaginably huge. The evening was brought to a close as the bar got rather too international and some Maori girls sat down next to us, trying their luck. The next day we had a nutricious breakfast at Denny's and then explored Auckland. Not much to say, apart from some good boats down at the harbour. Then to the airport. We arrived to find our flight had been rescheduled earlier than our itinerary and that we were cutting it a bit fine. After waiting in the queue well past boarding time, we were told we were too late for seats together. We got pissy. The problem was sorted but on board loads of people around us were double booked and being shuffled around, only for half of them to get bumped up to first class! Then for a long flight with no views other than of water. We arrived in Santiago, Chile, four hours before departing from Auckland - a very strange feeling. We went through customs surprisingly stringent and then got a bus into the centre. We arrived at our hostel, lunched and then fell asleep for the afternoon. At eight o'clock we went to the minimart for tea and then slept until nine the next morning.The next morning we booked our bus onwards and then checked out the Pre-Colonial Arts Museum with a Kiwi couple from the flight and our hostel. The museum was quite good and had some very well preserved, old pieces. Most of them were found in the Atacama desert which has been dry enough to preserve pottery and fabrics well. Most of the English labels didn't really explain what it was all about, but there were noticable cultural practices like skull deformation, hallucinagenic drugs and trancey death rituals. Some of the exhibits were quite funny, such as a tool topped with two fornicating cats and a statue of a man apparently defacating we couldn't work this one out as there was no label . That over, we went in search of lunch where we were followed by a stray dog for a little while who was limping and only walking on three legs. After he realised we weren't interested his limp magically disappeared and he looked after us imploringly before going to follow someone else. Lunch was chicken and chips and a litre bottle of beer - they don't come any smaller - accompanied by an angry tramp kicking over the specials board. On the way back a hobo leapt in front of me and hissed at me and I jumped out of my skin much to Wass' amusement. That afternoon we did nothing more than just laze around and have dinner.The next day was a struggle to wake up and we didn't go out until one in the afternoon. We hopped aboard the funicular railway which took us to the top of a hill overlooking the city. On top of the hill is also a large statue of the Virgin Mary. Santiago from above is a sprawling city, smoggy and still relatively low on the horizon. It is sharply contrasted by an amazing backdrop of the Andes. We got back of the funicular and went back down. After this, we mooched around some more and then had an early night.The next day was a journey to Mendoza, Argentina. We crossed through the mountains aboard our lovely spacious bus, equipped with decent films and a little packed lunch - ah luxury! The border crossing was really cold, being on a mountain and we were keen to get back on to continue sleeping. Later on in the drive was some spectacular scenery of gauzy mountains and massive blue glacial lakes. Like New Zealand but bigger! On arriving in Mendoza we checked into our hostel and went for some food. Mendoza is a nice town near many famous wine regions to the southwest of Argentina. We wandered through the main square and past some pretty fountains before our first taste of Argentine beef. We then went on a hunt for an Argentinian rugby shirt for Wass and found that almost every second shop was a sports shops. Result! Dinner was good and then back to the hostel for some relaxing and drinking those enormous bottles of beer. Lunch today was the biggest rump steak I have ever seen, and dinner was an extreme portion of lasagne. The Argentinians love meat so much, they just can't help but put it in everything - even our lasagna had a layers of ham as well as pasta and the usual beef. Unfortunately, on our way back I got hit by a car - no worries, only a little bump to the shin - as the driver wasn't looking at the zebra crossing when he turned the corner and Wass got rather angry. He opened the door and shouted at the man to get out of the car but I was not having the Argentinian police on our backs so I dragged him away. When we came back our lovely hostel and its even lovelier Alsacien was there to play "stick" with and cheer us up.

Mon Jun 29, 2009 Full Page

From Christchurch we moved onto Kaikaura again and spent the night splashing about in the hostel's jacuzzi and hanging out with the KES boys before I bumped my head climbing up into the bunk, ending the night abruptly. The next day was a long day of travelling to Wellington, first going to Picton to catch the ferry. Just after checking our bags we heard the news that Michael Jackson was dead, which provided many jokes for the journey. We boarded the ferry and found some colouring packs to keep ourselves entertained. After a smooth beginning, it got a bit choppy and Wass was sick so decided to head out to the deck. I fell asleep and woke up 10 minutes before arrival, only to find Wass had been amusing himself in the arcade with shooting games. We arrived in Wellington and explored, before a delicious curry cooked by one of our Kiwi bus friends. The next day was spent at Te Papa where we met the KES boys again, the museum showcasing various exhibition ranging from Maori culture to a pickled collossal squid. After Wass had decided that he'd had enough of the museum there weren't enough gadgets and interactive parts in some of the exhibitions we headed towards the famous parliament building, known as the 'Beehive'. This was possibly the ugliest building you've ever seen and certainly did not merit a photograph, but the long wings of the older building beside it were nice and majestic by NZs standards . The rest of the afternoon was spent looking around the shops. We went back to the hostel for a rest before meeting the boys to watch New Zealand vs Italy at the sports bar. It was an expensive evening of drinks and dining!The following day we went to Taupo. On our way in to the town we went to the Huka Falls which supposedly could fill an Olympic sized swimming pool in 5 seconds. It was very rapid but not as high as we would have liked! Then checked in and went for an explore in town but everything was dead because it was a Sunday. We booked in for a skydive for Tuesday the main purpose of our visit to Taupo . We came back and I embarked upon the world's most difficult puzzle 1000 pieces of blue dolphins in blue sea , whilst Wass made burritos. I wasn't getting very far so Wass eventually persuaded me to give up. The next morning was spent starting a new, slightly easier puzzle. After this we ventured out only to bump into the boys again as they came to the end of a round of mini golf. We all went off to the lake where for $1 per ball you can tee off from the shore and try to get a hole in one on a floating pontoon about 100m out in the water. The prize was $5000 so Wass had to try his hand. He and Charlie were pretty good and managed to land the ball on the pontoon but not in the hole an extra free ball whilst mine made it about 20m into the water in front. We left once Wass was satisfied it couldn't be done easily and went for lunch. We revisited the falls with the boys. We had an early night in anticipation of our skydive the following morning. Yesterday was a long and fruitless wait, phoning the company to check the weather and if we could jump. The jump kept being put back and after five reschedules it didn't look hopeful. We decided to stay an extra night in Taupo as the weather was due to improve today. We were booked in for 9.20am this morning.Today was another slightly tense day. After being rescheduled to 11.40, we decided to amuse ourselves with some mini golf. Wass won, obviously, and I was getting frustrated at my own inability. We came back, got rescheduled to 2pm so went for lunch and ran some errands in town. We came back just before 2pm only to be rescheduled again. We sat down to some puzzling when the hostel owner came to find us - we were going to be picked up at 2.30 as there had been a change in the weather! We got in the shuttle and headed for the airfield. After some slightly alarming paperwork that required a next of kin's contact details, we reached the hanger. They kitted us up pretty quick as they wanted to get us on the load they were about to run and introduced us to our dive masters. Wass was jumping with Brad and I jumped with Albert he was German . We filed onto the plane in our little red jumpsuits with our yellow instructors. The plane was tiny. It was like a baked bean tin with 14 people rammed inside. I was also introduced to my cameraman who had a spectacular goatee that he twizzled throughout the flight. The plane took off and was bumped about a little by the wind. We could see Lake Taupo below the largest lake in Australasia and big enough to fit all of Singapore in it and the mountains. Albert was showing me his gauge that measured the altitude as he explained what to do when we jumped. Brad put Wass' hat on for him which made him look like a mole. Albert soon followed suit and then started tightening my harness. We were told to sit on their laps, which I thought was a bit pervy but let it go as I didn't have much choice! We were strapped up even tighter I could hardly breathe and had to ask for mine to be loosened . Then the door opened and the first person rolled out. We reached 15,000 feet and the person in front of me went - I screamed as he tumbled into the air. Then it was me. My goggles were pulled on, we shuffled along the bench to the door, sat in the doorway with legs dangling out of the plane, posed for the camera and then fell into the sky. We immediately flipped and all I could see was the clouds and the bottom of the bright yellow plane. We twisted again and now I could see the ground below. I stretched my arms and legs out and tried to take a deep breath. The camera man was floating around in front of me and reaching out his hand to grab mine. 60 of the most confusing seconds of my life passed and by this time I was really wanting the parachute to open so I could catch my breath. Then I saw the cameraman drift away and felt a sharp pull upwards. The parachute had opened and we began floating underneath a rainbow canopy. I looked around and could see some of the others below us and looked up to see Wass gliding above our heads. Albert let me steer for a bit and then started turning us in circles which made me feel really queasy. I looked around and could see the airfield in the distance. Then we practised the landing position and took in the views. We slowly flittered towards the ground and then landed with a thud but managed to stay standing. Albert released my harness at the legs and it was then that I realised I had a large glob of saliva and/ or snot on my cheek! I turned round and saw Wass staggering around the airfield towards the bench. His ears hadn't popped and he couldn't balance himself. We did a final bit of shooting for our DVD and then headed inside to be deharnessed. Tomorrow we're going to Rotorua for some geothermal action.

Fri Jun 19, 2009 Full Page

The next morning we made our way to Kaikoura. The bus journeyt was probably more remarkable than the little town itself. We had our first taste of New Zealand's breath-taking landscape: luscious meadows framed by emerald undulating hills and purple snow-capped mountains in the distance. Most of the coastal is totally flat around the south island so amazing views can be had from just about any road.

Just before arriving in Kaikoura, the bus stopped off to visit a seal colony that lives on the rocks. They were loads of them scattered around the rocks and bushes and we decided to stray a little from the rest of the group to get a better look at them. We crept carefully past one lazing under a bush - apparently they can be really vicious if they feel threatened - but didn't notice a whole family siddling through bushes on our other side trying to get to the water. They were lolloping andbelly-flopping along, and when they saw us the started to growl more intimidating than you'd imagine . We though best to leave them to it and crept away. They were a few seals posing out on the rocks and one was even seductively craning its head and elongating it's neck for us - it was clearly loving the limelight!

We arrived at the hostel where we had some awesome mountain views from our window and spent the afternoon watching films. Lord of the Rings was a particularly topical one as it was filmd in NZ unfortunately we didn't recognise any of the scenery . We also got to see some local crayfish that some people had caught on a fishing trip. It is reputed as being some of the best in the world. Forget little prawn-sized things - these were massive great lobster-esque things.We got up earlyish again the next morning and on our way out of Kaikoura we got another chance to see some more seals. This was even better as they were all seal pups playing in a pool below a waterfall. Their mums leave them there whilst they go hunting and the pups leave when they're big enough to go out into the ocean. There must have been a hundred pups frolicking in the water, jumping arcs and flapping about. A few were more tentative and sat on the rocks, but enetually plucked up the courage to go for a dip. One little pup was really interested in us humans and so cam ereally close whilst the others cowered behind him.We arrived in Nelson in the afternoon and went for a walk at sunset. We walked rapidly up to the viewing point atop a hill in the Abel Tasman National Park where views of the coast, the town and the park can be had. It is also the exact centre of New Zealand we were skeptical . We came back down and enjoyed a roast for dinner.The next day we made our way to Westport, but stopped off at the Nelson lakes for lunch. The views were amazing. A snowy mountain perfectly placed between frosty hills and a vast expanse of mirror-like lake met our eyes. We eventually got back onto the bus after taking in the amazing views. Westport was probably the most boring, sleepy town you will ever come across. We did nothing except watch Bill Bailey and talk to a couple of people who had been quaranteened for suspected swine-flu only to have their results lost and finally discover it was merely tonsilitis. The next day was a coastal walk and a quick look at the Pancake Rocks - not really very pancakey and quite dull. Then we arrived in Lake Mahanipua where we stayed at the 'Poo Pub' with a crazy 84-year-old publican owner called Les - the oldest publican in NZ. We walked up to the lake through some creepy forest track and were greeted by the best views yet. Pink sky and mountains, with a huge black lake and a picturesque pier. Many a photo later, we left the now not so silent lake the Korean tourists found us . That night we sat in the pub and talked to a bloke called Patrick who told us all about his long ago travels and about New Zealand being a gold country. We fell asleep in our toasty cabin and were up the next morning to go to Franz Josef.On our way to Franz Josef we stopped at a wildlife centre where they were 2 deer, a wallabe and a family of goats. We obviously took the opportunity to feed them which was good fun. The deer were craning their necks at all sorts of odd angles to get their mouths through the fence. The goats were pretty aggressive, except the baby goat which was missing out on all the food so we ended up tricking the parents and slyly feeding baby, before daddy butted him out of the way! The wallabe was really sweet and very gentle - it slowly chammed the feed as it batted its thick eyelashes.

We arrived yesterday in the afternoon and considered a walk. No such luck as the bridge was closed due to flooding and we were too lazy. We had dinner, played bingo in the bar and then went to bed to get a good night's sleep before our hike.Today was the best day of our travels yet! We did a full day hike up the Franz Josef glacier - the fastest moving glacier in the world. We started at 9am at the hike centre where we were briefed and kitted up with hats, gloves, jackets, waterproof trousers, socks, boots and the all important crampons. We boarded a bus to take us to the foot of the glacier. The anticipation was building. Then across a bridge over a glacial river and a short walk through some frosted forest that sparkled in the morning sun. We reached the foot of the glaciar and it didn't look too far away. We asked how far to the top, only to be told that on the 8 hour hike you can only go a quarter of the way up. The ice creates an optical illusion so that the 12km high peak looks very close. Even just the walk over the morraine in the valley floor was 2km! We were split into groups and we opted for the fast group, feeling keen. Our guide then set off at such a pace that I started to worry whether I was going to be able to keep up, but luckily, this was just for the moment to get ahead of the slower group. Phewf! We began our climb through the black sand and rocks and sat down at the foot of the ice to don the crampons. Then for the real hiking! We zig-zagged up and over the peaks of ice, and then into the crevasses, through narrow gaps which Wass struggled in and slid over frozen water. It was pretty tiring but amazing. We stopped for lunch in a basin in the ice whilst our hunky Maori guide hacked away at the ice to make some steps. The afternoon was spent admiring the views from up the glaciar and making our way through more narrow passes. Two guys in our group even went for a plunge into an icey pool! We were disappointed to have to come down. Our guide promised that if we beat a group ahead of us he would perform a haka for us the traditional Maori war-dance . Wass and an American with impeccably white teeth managed to outrun them literally so we were given a show. Our guide got really into it, so much so that he cut his fist punching the ground. The tourists milling around the valley floor must have got more than they bargained for when they saw a rugby-sized Maori shouting at the top of his lungs and beating his chest! We came back, thoroughly exhausted and grabbed the last hot showers before dinner.

Wed Jun 10, 2009 Full Page

We got up earlyish to go to Bondi beach. Whilst Wass was in the shoer I prepared him a secret special birthday breakfast that I had slyly purchased from the supermarket the night before. I came back up to the room to find a freshened Wass and suggested we eat breakfast. None-the-wiser, we got in the lift and Wass only suspected something when I asked him to wait outside the dining area, so that I could light the candles on his mini cheesecake. He came in and saw a spread of strawberries, cereal, croissants with butter and jam, orange juice, tea and a becandled cheesecake, as well as a present of Lindt chocolates artfully wrapped in gold paper and duct tape. Wass was somewhat embarrassed as there were other people in the kitchen, although he was very pleased too. We scoffed it down and then cleared up and grabbed our coats.We made our way to the bus station and got on the 380 to Bondi. Then we realised that we didn;t know where to get off although a beach would be a clue . About 20 minutes later, after numerous run-ins with cars and pedestrians - the driver was a total psycho - we saw our beach. Off we hopped and walked across the grassy slopes and down to the sand. The wind was pretty damn chilly, and even the sand was really cold. We wandered up the beach, which isn't very long, and watched some surfers doing 180 turns on the waves and I chased some seagulls. There were a few nutters out in their swimmers no wetsuits! but we were not going anywhere near the water. We then walked up to the promenade and browsed the souvenir shops, By far the best Aussie momento we've seen yet is stuffed kangaroo scrotum on a keychain! Then we stopped for some fish and chips and whilst tucking in, a friend from school just happened to stroll past. After this, we headed back into the city and went back to the hostel to prepare for our climb. We hurried through town to get to the climb centre on time. We arrived and seated ourselves in the waiting room, excited and ready to go. First we had a little briefing and a breathaliser test they take safety very seriously ! Then we moved into another room where we were issued with rather unfllattering suits, which resembled a sort of spacesuit come cleaner's overalls fusion. Then for some windproof trousers with excessively bulbous crotches so we looked like we were wearing nappies. Next for the actual climb equipment - a harness with a cord you attached to yourself and to a wire all along the bridge climb, which looked like a kind of yoyo on a rope. We were then given hats and gloves to clip onto the back of our necks and sleeves respectively, as well as a hanky with an elasticated cuff on it! Everything they give you is attached to you in some way because if it fell the 140m to the road below it would kill someone if it hit them. They don't let you take cameras for this reason too. Then we were shown how to click onto the wire and through brackets and had a practice at walking up a set of steps, similar to those on the bridge. After this, we were hooked up with headsets for our radios and given fleeces and raincoats. Now we were ready to go after a quick sound check! At this point, we had to walk out onto the street, at the mercy of the general public's gaze, and walk to the start of the bridge. We went through a concrete passageway and clicked ourselves in, ready to go! We started our walk along a narrow beam and the guide started telling us about the surrounding area via our radios. It was already twilight and was getting dark quickly. We carried on walking and began our ascent. This involved climbing up various ladders and through some little gaps. Along the way we had some more stops to take in the view. At the moment there is a festival going on so the Opera House is lit up at night with brights colours and patterns. We were reaching the top and it was getting colder with the wind chill and darkness descending. We crossed from one to another across a mesh walkway so you could see the traffic streaming past below. The views of the Sydney skyline were amazing - the road to the bridge looked like two red and white rivers of light and the buildings sparkled against the black sky. Even the amusement park looked twinkly and pretty. We reached the summit where it was ridiculously windy, so windy that our guide had trouble speaking into his microphone. We had some photos taken and Wass got a round of happy birthday from the group and we then began our descent. Three hours after we had stepped out onto the brdige, we arrived back in the warm. We rapidly de-kitted and changed and then went to check out the photos.Wass and I hurried off to get to dinner over in Cockle Bay, quite a walk from the foot of the bridge. We dined at I'm Angus Steakhouse and had a meat platter for two, chips, salad, crumble, chocolate souffle and beer. It was absolutely amazing. Just the sheer amount of food was incredible - kangaroo kebabs, sirloin steaks, fillets mignon, a giant rack of ribs, lamb shanks and chorizo sausages all cooked to perfection and wonderfully delicious. By the end we were, imaginably, absolutely stuffed. Wass also had a sparkler in his crumble along with a happy birthday serenade from the restaurant and staff. We powerwalked back to the hostel as it was seriously chilly.Today we got up just before the hostel wake up call - now we understand why the hostel is called "Wake Up! Sydney". We went in search of souvenirs and some other items and just wandered the main shopping streets of Sydney. It was a pretty unremarkable day and we came back early. We spent the rest of the afternoon washing clothes, watching Family Guy and surfing the web.I did forget to metion that yesterday, was got pulled up in front of a crowd when we were watching a street show of a female contortionist who gets into a small glass box. It was hilarious to watch him die and twitch profusely, especially when she used him as a mount to get into her box mounted on some rigging.Tomorrow, we fly to Christchurch on an ealry flight at 7am so just imagine what time we have to get up! .

Mon Jun 08, 2009 Full Page

So we're writing to you from Australia but first we'll tell all about the rest of Thailand...The journey to Kho Pha-Ngan was wonderfully pleasant on the top deck of a boat, sunning ourselves and cooling off with a little spray from the water every now and then. We arrived and checked into "Coral Bungalows", which turned out to be the original home of the island's pool party, second only to the moon parties. For the remainder of the day, we walked to Haad Rin beach, or sunset beach, and chilled by the pool. We rented a quad-bike that evening and went for an Indian. The following day, we woke up early-ish to explore the island on four wheels. We decided to follow a waterfall trail that took us round the whole island in search of its numerous waterfalls. We tried to find the first one on our list and were pointed down a track that said 4km. We embarked on our journey there, but the dusty, gritty track became less and less of a useable road, turning to a turretted, cracked and steep track. Words do not describe how crazy it was especially considering the locals were tackling it on scooters ! We powered on through streams crossing the path getting badly sprayed and over the ridiculous terrain in the blistering heat. After what must have been about 3km, seeing no other tourists, heading towards the coast and becoming suspicious of the waterfall's existence, not to mention that the quad kept getting stuck and/or losing power up the hills, we turned back. At various points I had to dismount because the quad couldn't get both of us up the hill, and at others Wass was half pushing and half driving this rattle-clap thing up the hill. Eventually, we made it back to the main road and continued to our next waterfull. This one was a winner. After driving through more dirt, but reassuringly, past more Westerners, we came to the trail. A 50m walk and we arrived at the foot of cascades of water. Although not high, there were many small levels that we managed to clamber up. From the foot, we could see a fetching woman sunbathing on on of the rocks in the middle of it, which Wass happily took a photo of. Once we reached the plateau, we realised this lady had incredibly hairy legs and no chest. She was, in fact, a he. Wass looked sheepish and slightly embarrassed and I had to stiffle the giggles. We splashed ourselves with the water and headed back down. After this, we stopped at various beaches, and stumbled across a real gem. Perfect white sand like sugar, crystal clear water and hardly anyone around. I went for a quick dip and we decided to return another day. We continued to the other side of the island, which was more populated and more built-up. We reached the pier where I had a go on the quad around the car park and then we stumbled upon "The Freemason's Arms". This was a surreal, although enjoyable, lunch. It was a building purpose-built to look exactly like a proper English pub. Inside, the decor was spot on, from Guinness posters and coasters to proper on-tap pints. We had BLTs cheaper and better than home with what looked like McCains' chips! We were totally baffled at how the place was so accurate it even had a beer garden! considering that all of the staff were Thai. As we were leaving, an English bloke in a pick-up truck - the vehicle of choice for islanders - pulled up. Then we understood - an English owner! We continued our tour of the island and came across an elephant trekking place. We went over and bought some bananas to feed them. These elephants were happy enough to be fed, as well as fanning themsleves with palm branches using their trunks. There were also two little monkeys hanging out with the owner's dogs. The elephants happily ate from our hands with their trunks, although they had really damp, warm breath and were very hairy just like Wass ! We drove on to a beach where we parked and were able to walk via a spit to a small island. Pretty uninteresting, and the rocky beach on the island was full of tourists who resembled various forms of boiled, squidgy meat. We continued on our way home, and came across a waterfall that no longer existed and some more elephants, this time with a baby one! The baby was playing, swaying it's trunk from side to side, and wanting food. We fed him and mummy, as well as another monkey only I could feed her because she didn't like men! . The baby elephant was really fuzzy and greedy and kept trying to steal the bananas headed for mum. We left and went back to the hotel, and then drove into town for dinner. I drove the quad this time, and nearly crashed into a tree heading out of the resort, much to my amusement but not Wass'! A slow drive to town and a small encounter with a lorry, we made it in one piece. We chose to have dinner where there was a film being shown on a big screen TV, called Don't mess with the Zohan, which mocks the Isreali-Palestinian war. Hilarious!!! The next morning we got a motorbike to the magical beach we had found the previous day. We read and waded around in the water for the day. Towards late afternoon, a breeze picked up and lifted our umbrella away, nearly decapitating the poor couple down wind of us. Two further umbrella flights later, we watched as staff replaced umbrellas for lamps, ready for the evening. We decided to get back before dark. Wass had also mentioned that the roads would be busy or policed as it was the night of the half-moon party. A quick low-down - Koh Pha-Ngan is world famous for crazy beach parties that last through the night, every full, half and black moon, which is really just any old excuse for a party. Funnily enough, we passed some police who were pulling over all white tourists. Wass was frisked - I was not as there was no female officer - and my bag was checked, and the polieman snatched the key out of Wass' hand, later to check under the seat. We were laughing and smiling, being innocent citizens, and were allowed to go on our way. That night we went for dinner and the town had a powercut - this isn't uncommon, or surprising, in Asia so some places have generators and everywhere has candles at the ready. Power lines are a knotty, low hanging mess, with hundreds of cables and many with loose ends, and if you run a street stall or just want some power, you just hook yourself up via a stepladder! We went back and crashed out as Wass was a bit poorly.The next morning we made our way to the pier to go to Koh Samui. Koh Samui is the biggest of all three islands and is more of a flashpacker older travellers with money and jobs or European beach resort set-up. There's even a Tescos. After a ridiculous journey around town trying to find a particular guesthouse in a taxi but failing because Thai taxi drivers no nothing of their territory, we settled on a different place. We checked in and then headed for lunch and to the most famous beach on the island. After Koh Pha-Ngan it was quite frankly disappointing. Advertised as 6km of white sand and clear water, we found it too rammed with tourists, too dirtied with palm leaves and litter and the water not as clear as the last place. Some mild sunburn later on my part, we went back. I went for a pedicure that was cheaper than a bottle of nail varnish in Britain, where all the ladies were brightly clad in orange, with long slick toenails and perfectly shaped nails. After this, we treated ourselves to an all you can eat grill - oh yeah! Endless BBQ ribs and chicken, we soon saturated ourselves with meat and sat there utterly stuffed. The next day we went on, you guessed it, another motorbike tour. Our first stopwas a viewpoint. Ok but nothing special. Next was the most bixarre touristic attraction, the Grandmother and Grandfather rocks. Don't let the quaint names fool you! They are two rocks, or collections of rocks that look just like male and female genitals - very realistic, but really odd. Next, we headed to our first waterfall of the day. The waterfall is accessed via an animal park where there were elephants for trekking. This time, i got to sit on a young one to have a photo. I was reluctant at first, mainly because it was damp from a shower 5 minutes before and was excessively hairy! The man told to stand on its shin to get up, which I thought rather unkind, but apparently they don't feel pain from it. I got on and my companion decided he was going to go for a little stroll and not pose for a picture so after a few rapid shots I was hauled back down and the elephant went for another shower.

We then walked to the foot of the waterfall, which was 80m high! At the bottom there was a small pool with an extended German family de-clothing with military precison and barks form the mother. We gave this a miss when a Thai man motioned to us to climb up further to where he was. He began guiding us up through the trees into the rainforest, very handy as I probably would have died otherwise, slipping and tripping all over the place. We trekked for what seemd like an age, puffing and panting. Finally we reached the top where there was a decnt waterfall and pool. He told us to get into the water, and he enthusiastically jumped in in his Y-fronts. Wass went straight forward whilst I hesitated. As he guided Wass over to the waterfall where there was a piece of rope to grab onto to pull yourself onto the narrow strips of rock, I took photos.

Then the guide returned and tried to coax me in. I was worried about the cold, but also the fact that the bottom wasn't visible and that there might be eels or other such nasties. Finally I voiced my concerns and Wass laughed and eventually got me in. After this, we dried off rapidly in the heat and descended via wild banana trees and views of the island. Next we went in search of a mummified monk on the island, preserved in the meditative position he died in. Passing a beach and seeing a buffalo having a dip in the sea, we found a small temple place, wondering where the monk was. Then I spotted him in all his creepy, slightly decaying glory. Wass performed a closer inspection but I decided to stay away. They say curiosity killed the cat, and well, it certainly freaked Wass out a bit. Now it was time for lunch so we stopped in a restaurant in Nathon Town, the main town on Koh Samui, for a pauper's meal with the limited cash we had left. After refuelling, we headed for another waterfall. This one was a 2km trek to the top over rocks and through trees. This really was a battle, but we made it. Once we reached the top, there were only two other people up there, a hilarious eastern European couple - the guy was a crazy steroid body builder in black Speedos and the woman was prime-aged sunseeking blonde. We scaled rocks to get some good photos, this time being a bit more scary what with no guides and nobody to save us, except Arnold Schwarzenegger and his wife. This took some convincing for me as there was more deep water and submerged rocks. The eel fears came flooding out and on my way back across, Wass having gone ahead leaving me, I had a total freak-out! After slipping up, luckily doing no damage, I stood on a rock in the middle, and I saw some fish dart around me. Screaming "EELS!!!" at the top of my lungs, Wass was so crippled with laughter he couldn't stand up and I was flapping like there was no tomorrow. We left the waterfall and about half way down, my second pair of flip-flops broke! Wass bravely sacrificed his for me and went the rest of the way bare foot. Then we drove to the island's big Buddha which does what it says on the tin and this Vishnu-ey type thing with loads of arms. The next day was a whole day of travelling. Rather unremarkable, other than a totally spazz driver who kept overtaking into oncoming traffic and who managed to reverse into the railings on the edge of the pier, crumpling his bumper and nearly sending us to a watery death. We sunbathe don the top deck of the boat, then had a bus ride into the main town near the port on the mainland. Here was dinner and films, including Jackass. Then onto an overnight bus, much calmer this time, and a stopover at salmonella city in a 24h roadside cafteria. Back on the bus and arrive in Bangkok at 5am. We wondered back to our previous hotel and had a kip. That day was spent doing very little of interest, just wondering around the many silver shops. In the evening we made our way to Chinatown, but got lost as Bangkok has sprawling streets and we had a crappy guidebook map. A Thai man we asked directions from took us all the way there. This is something notable about Thailand - people are incredibly friendly and helpful, and not just because they want your cash! We couldn't find many spectacular places to eat that weren't all seafood restaurants, but finally settled on a Cantonese place. Afterwards, we decided to really push the boat out and take a bus home. In Thailand, to hail a bus you have to stand in the road and just run to the doors as they open and bus continues moving. God knows how the elderly manage! We arrived successfully at our destination.Saturday was another public transport outing, this time to Chatachuk Market, the world's largest covered market. This place is huge - tourist guides hand out maps from golf buggies as you walk around! There was the usual, like clothes and jewellery, and some more specific stalls, like a pet cage shop and giant plastic bubble animals shop. After much stress and browsing we left empty-handed to rush back for our flight in the evening. We got the bus which got stuck in notorious Bangkok traffic and then got back just in time to wolf our last Thai curry in 10 minutes to catch the transfer bus. At the airport, we had a Burger King, wondered around and then boarded. Departure was delayed beacuse the captain was waiting for a document to come "over the system" that didn't so had to come "through the door". For some reason he labouriously explained, "We just have to open up the door, then close the door". Talk about stating the obvious!The flight was fine, minus a little turbulence. We arrived at 2am Thai time, 6am Aussie time. There were numerous checks, some dog-sniffing, multiple scary signs about penalties for not declaring just about anything and a stupid question from an official, "What do you plan on doing here in Sydney?" "Hmmm, well, first I was going to traffic some drugs, then blow some buildings up." Sightsee, like most tourists, you silly woman! We made it to our hostel and crashed out on sofas as our beds weren't ready. In the afternoon we walked to the bridge and there just so happened to be a rainbow above the opera house. We continued to wander and made it to the opera house, where there was a multi-coloured projection of lights to illuminate it against the night-sky. Today is a public holiday because of the Queen's birthday why don't we have this?! so last night was one big party all over the city. The bars were lively, yet relaxed and there was a really good atmosphere. We wondered back via the supermarket - strangely enough called Woolworths - where I was shocked at the price of beef, $15ASD for two massive slabs of rump. Last night I fell asleep pretty much as my last mouthful of dinner was gone so we headed for bed.

This morning we headed out to find a restaurant for Wass' birthday meal. We visited Cockle Bay which was a trendy little place with some good places to eat, including I'm Angus Steakhouse, Wass' choice. We had a steak sandwich for lunch which was epic at another place, then went back over to the opera house. We headed back slowly via the botanical gardens and a Jazz show on the water celebrating the 21st anniversary of Darling Harbour. Another trip to the supermarket and a little shopping trip for me to buy Wass some goodies, we came back and ate. Then a little gracing of the hostel bar, which we can currently feel thumping under our feet, and now we're here! It's late and we have a beach excursion to Bondi where the Olympics were that's probably misleading - it's blimming freezing here! and bridge climb tomorrow.

Fri May 29, 2009 Full Page

The bus to Bangkok was another arduous journey, which involved a rather haphazard border crossing at Poipet, Cambodia. After already having got off and got back on the bus at a stop a few minutes earlier nobody took it upon themselves to inform us when and where to get off we reached border control. We waited in-line and got our passprts checked, got vaguely motioned down a road and then had to fill out a health declaration form, this being pretty standard since swine-flu, although it was only white people being checked. Then we went through Thai border control and made it out the other side. Here we were told to wait, "maybe half an hour, maybe an hour" what wonderfully Asian timekeeping! for various other tourists coming through to all board a bus to Bangkok. A minibus showed up into which too many bags were piled, loosely held in by a rope. The journey from there was not notable, apart from the very smooth road and the sense of civilisation.That night, we checked into our chosen hotel, small and shabby but bearable. Then we went for dinner with a couple we met on the bus and they took us to Khoa San Road. What a shock we got! It's Bangkok's very own backpacker spot, like a cross between Soho and Camden, with pretty beer girls touting "very strong" drinks, Thai rastas huddled on stools, thumping music, energetic street sellers and a few lady boys thrown into the bargain. We sat down and ordered our first Thai curry - yum yum! The next morning, after finding a cockroach inhabiting our room the night before, we moved hotels. Then, we decided to take it easy, Thai style. We got up, mooched around in search of cheap T-shirts and then went for a Thai massage. We were given offensively green outfits to wear short sleeved shirts and fisherman pants and changed in a little shack. Then we made our selves comfortable not for long, though! and our masseuses began. Thai massage isn't a relaxing massage as we found - it involves contorting your body into various positions, zealous massaging and some good old spine clicking. Wass was not suitably flexbile in any plane for the masseuse to properly Thai massage him so she resorted to an oil massage to relieve his whimpering. Meanwhile, I was thrown about all over place beside him.That evening, we ventured out to the cinema. We negotiated a free tuk tuk ride there - Bangkok has a weird arrangement where all tuk tuk drivers make you stop and look at various shops along your route to get themselves a fuel coupon - but with two stops. We arrived an hour later a huge complex, which was a 7 floor shopping mall with an IMAX thrown in. We ate at a Vietnamese restaurant, a little misinterpreted after having had the real deal, where a bowl of salad was just put into the middel of the table to start. We didn't touch it as it was mainly large sprigs of mint, but the waiter helpfully pushed it closer to us half way through the meal, but we still left it. Then we loaded up on popcorn and coke ready for Angels and Demons. We sat down in comfy seats with much legroom and the adverts began. Nothing interesting until firstly, an all Thai film was advertised which was really weird, and then the screen asked us, "Please stand to salute His Majesty the King." Wass looked confused, I remembered from a guide book that Thais absolutely love the king, and that also this was Asia, so there's really no predicting what might happen. We stood up along with everyone else and had to watch a lengthy video, reminiscent of a papal visit, the King's arms outstretched, people begging at his feet and him blessing them. All very strange. The clip finished and an American next to us said having noticed our disbelief, "Crazy, huh?" No shit! The film was really good but we won't spoil it for you!The next day we thought we ought to do the cultural stuff so we walked to the Grand Palace, only to find it closed for foreigners at that time. A very nice Thai bloke who spoke good English informed us of what was going on and then took a look at our map to suggest other things to entertain us in the interim. He then drew a route for us and advised us to pay 40 baht $1 for a tuk tuk to follow us round. He packed us off with our driver and we went to see the large gold sitting Buddha, the standing Buddha and a temple. At the standing Buddha, we bought some caged birds to release at his feet, which is supposed to be lucky. At the temple, after Wass rung every bell of about 100 on the way up, we got a good view over the city. Then it started to rain so we hurried back and went back to the palace. Within the palace walls it was pretty spectacular with many a gold tile, emerald, diamond and ruby in sight, although there were obviously loads of other tourists to get in the way of such marvels. The following day was another day of doing nothing, and we spent most of the day in our room reading and me having bowel problems. That night we took what was to be the worst journey yet to Koh Tao. This was a "sleeper" bus packed full of irritating tourists, including one behind a middle aged hippy who insisted on resting her feet on Wass' chair, and one in front who was bent on reading his book with the aid of his very bright light, that arrived at the ferry port at 2am. At the port there was a concrete floor with mats on and a loud telly next door, and we were awoken at 6am to get another coach to the terminal. Then the boat. We were both starving from the night before, tired and then I got badly seasick. We arrived, got in a pick up truck taxi and went to Freedom Beach. Without the luxuries of air-con, hot water or even a flush toilet, we settled into our beach shack. And a shack it was. The water had a distintly metallic smell from the rusty pipes and the ground below was visible through the sparse floorboards. We hung out on the beach for the day, with a little venture over to the next bay in search of better accommodation. By the afternoon, we were severely sunburnt and tired. For dinner, we found a restaurant where we sat outside on Morrocan-style beds, by a pool bar with views of the beach and a guy playing the guitar in the background. We hurried back down the dark and isolated road with a torch to our shack, where we had a windy the windows did not close and painful due to the sunburn night's sleep. Today, we moved hotels to the next beach along and discovered civilisation, in the form of a small village with a 7-Eleven. Today we wandered the beach and found a restaurant nestled in the rocks of the headland where they served Mars, Snickers, Twix and Nutella shakes. Then we wandered back, read and are now here in the internet cafe. Tomorrow, we head to Koh Pha-Ngan, the home of the full moon party or backpacker central .

Sat May 23, 2009 Full Page

Now to tell you about the hundreds of temples in Siem Reap. The next day, we set out at 8am for the Roulous group, the oldest temples around, dating from about 800 BC. The first one we saw was a crumbling but impressive little place soon to be superceded by the various others we visited that day . Here, a monk started up a conversation with us to practice his English, and to ask for some money to buy supplies for his students as we later found out, where he asked for a grammatical explanation of the difference between "could" and "can". I fumbled an answer that was neither here nor there and then retreated from that path of conversation. The next few temples were all slightly bigger and better preserved, by which I mean they weren't entirely supported by wooden frames, and some had some amazing carvings into the sandstone of Hindu and Buddhist icons. Many of the temples in Siem Reap have been converted at some point in their lives as successions of kings advocated either Buddhism or Hinduism although the iconography of each is somewhat mixed in Cambodia anyway . The steps in each tend to be very steep and narrow - we're not sure why, either because they weren't skilled at step-building, or as I think I've heard before, it forces you to hunch and look down as you climb, so your head is always bowed to the shrine at the top. The best thing is that not many bits are off-limits so you can really explore the long corridors and many little rooms. It is just like being Indiana Jones! Everything is impressive, down to the pillars and doorways. Where there is stone, it is carved, and carved elaborately with leaves, monkeys, Vishnus, Buddhas and snakes. A boy guiding us told us that all the pieces of sandstone were carried from the mountains by elephants God knows how they did this .That afternoon, we returned tired and all begged out. Siem Reap has loads of beggars as well as loads of landmine victims who sell books or play music to earn money, as well as an unusual number of orphanages in a town of only 150,000 people. Another phonomenon is that of the sellers. They try immensely hard to get you to buy and follow you as far as they dare, reminding you, "If you want anything you come back to me, maybe later you buy". Many are children who show you their postcards and count them in English and just about any other language. A 7 year old girl counted 1-10 to me in English, Spanish, German, French and Dutch I had to ask her what language the Dutch was! . They whine, "three bracelets, one dollar", "you buy from me so I can go to school" and do puppy dog eyes at you which really cranks up the guilt you already felt.The next morning we got up at 4.30am to see the sunrise over Angkor Wat, the daddy of all the temples. We got into the tuk tuk, our driver looking quite spritely and drove in the dark to the gates. A few people were there, and by 5.00am it was filling up. It was really beautiful and a bit cooler than the usual blistering heat. We wondered round, although we found that the central temple was roped off. It is the complex as a whole that is impressive it can be seen on Google Earth , with a huge moat and a 3.6km long wall around the outside, as well as four library buildings in the grounds. The Khmers Cambodian people love it so much it's on their flag! Next we drove to the Angkor Thom temples. On our way we passed the elephant ride station and took a minute to check out the elephants, and then saw monkeys on the road scratching their bums. We first went to the Bayon temple which has hundreds of faces carved into it of all shapes and sizes - cool but a little eary. Then we looked around various others temples - by this time the memory of one was blending into the next - which were OK. On a journey to the loo between temples, I had an unfortunate accident where I slipped up in the mud trying to make a quick getaway from some sellers. Bum, calfs and hands thoroughly dirty, and Wass doing his best to hold in fits of laughter, I had to make the walk of shame there and back after an attempted clean-up. I was cheered up by a notable temple, Ta Prohm, where Tombraider was filmed. It has been taken over by trees with massive 5-10m roots delving their way into the crevices of the stone and it is obvious why it was chosen as a film-set. That afternoon we had a well-earned rest. We went to bed early ready to get up the next morning to go to Battambang. The bus journey was supposed to take 6 hours, but the gods must have been smiling on us because it only took 3! We arrived, had lunch and then went out on another tuk tuk excursion. This time it was firstly to a random crocodile farm just outside the town. Saftey was non-existent, you just had to clamber over metal poles and along slim concrete walkways with no railings. We survived to continue our journey through villages and remote roads. We stopped to see how rice paper and noodles are made and a gathering of children surrounded us. Following this, we went to another killing field, where there was a nother stupa with more bones in it. The driver then began to tell us about the Khmer Rouge, and we discovered he had been under the regime! He was 16 in 1975 when his family where forced to leave Phnom Penh and survived the horrors. He told us how he used to eat raw mice, snails, crabs and crickets, how he survived malaria, slept in the mud and snuck out at night to gather unripe bananas from the trees. He lied to the officers about his origins, his name, his hometown. He then spent 9 years in a refugee camp and has had 8 ! children, his first in 1980 when the regime ended. After this, we went to the bamboo train. Most of Cambodia's railway lines are no longer used, and no passenger trains exist, only cargo. It's basically a bamboo raft with a motrbike motor on it. And doesn't it go! The track was in shoddy condition and the boy driving it powered along like there was no tomorrow. There's nothing to hold you in, you just sit on a mat and pray you don't come off or derail. Wass didn't look like he was having much fun and the rain was starting to come down. We reached a bridge where another two trains were coming towards us. They solve this by simply stopping and turning the train around by lifting it off and back on to the tracks. The return journey was memorable. Firstly a squirrel jumped onto the track and then tried to outrun us on the rail. Obviously, it couldn't compete with the motor and we watched in horror as it went under the wheel and we felt the bump and crunch as we drove over it. Then an unidentified bug jumped on me and I freaked out. I was screaming and flapping, so Wass hesitantly flicked it off as the boy leaned over to have a look at what the commotion was all about, followed by a good laugh. We got back to the starting point soaked and glad to be alive, with many a dead fly on our faces and chests.This morning we went out on the tuk tuk again. We again drove through countryside to reach a big hill with a prison turned temple, torture caves and some old machine guns at the top. The drive was some seriously extreme tuk tuk-ing. Dirt tracks are covered in potholes, muddy slides and stones. Wass got a couple of bumps to the head and I nearly smashed my sunglasses. On the upside, we saw loads of village people who waved and said hello and we saw proper rural life in Cambodia. Then we went to a place where there are hundreds of fruit bats living in a tree outside a monastry. Then we went to the "Golden Gate Bridge", a rickety wobbly bridge over a river, made from planks, that motorbikes happily drive over. Tomorrow we go to our last country in Asia I am breathing a sigh of relief , Thailand. We get an all day bus to Bangkok.

Tue May 19, 2009 Full Page

So, the details of our journey to Phnom Penh. Ayfer a small party at our hotel the previous evening it was one of the staff's 21st birthday, and more importantly, the first time he'd ever had birthday cake! we got up early to breakfast and pack. However, our organisation ended up being a little pointless as there was a powercut, so getting ready including showering became more problematic. We decided to hold out for another hour in hope that the power would come back on and we could have a warm shower in respite of our polar room - we have a new game called "Arctic" where we blast the air-con all day. We were not fortunate enough, however. Not only was the shower freezing, but also pathetic, having no pressure. Instead, after some deliberation and checking with the reception staff that the water was clean, I decided to use the toilet hose as it was actually warmer and belted the water out good enough. One hose-down later and we were ready to go! We got on the bus and got easily enough as far as the Vietnam border. Here we went through some rudimentary security and then were taken to Cambodian border control. We were ushered off the bus and told to wait for the guide to sort our visas out we were the only Westerners on the bus . We went to the desk and out the other side where the guide motioned to a waiting area and told us again to wait. Just 10 minutes before, a torrential downpour had begun so we stayed in the confines of the room, where a bucket had been rather pointlessly placed to catch the leak from the ceiling which was now forming a puddle the size of a child's paddling pool. We waited a while, but becoming anxious, finally asked an official where our guide was. He called him over, and we asked whether we were supposed to get back on the bus, to which he answered, "Yes, it's just outside." I pointed out to him that it wasn't and he looked surprised. He made a phone call an then said, "The driver has gone to the restaurant without us. We'll have to get a motorbike there." He smiled. We presumed he was joking, and had he not noticed that it wasn't exactly driving conditions outside? Next thing we know, he is instructing a driver to get two rain ponchos. We realised he was not joking. So, we are presented with two very fetching ponchos, which are really nothing more than pastel-coloured, over-sized carrier bags. We both board the back of a moto, Wass at the back and me sandwiched between him and the driver. We drove 2km of which I saw nothing having the drawstring hood tight around my face and a mouthful of the driver in front's wind-inflated poncho. We arrived at the restaurant drenched from the thigh down. The rest of the tour group all Vietnamese and Cambodian looked at us weirdly. We remained baffled as to how the driver managed to drive off missing his three most conspicuous passengers - the guide and two white people. Then, starving hungry, we are told it's time to go, but we kick up a fuss and get some food to take-away, partly funded by the guide as we don't have enough money.We arrived at Phnom Penh bus station and decided to walk to a hotel we have in mind. After findng that there were no a/c rooms left, we walked in a circle to try and find another hotel. We eventually settled and then went on another detour to a restaurant. The next morning, we got up early to do all of the sights in a day I did not warm to Phnom Penh and wanted to make our stay brief and found a tuk tuk driver for the day. First we went to the Royal Palace, which is still occupied by the King of Cambodia, so parts of it are cordonned off. There are some very beautiful buildings which have more of an Indian look to them and are strikingly different from the Oriental structures we have seen over the last six weeks. The Palace is also home to the Silver P0agoda - embarrassingly, we walked into it without realising because the floor embedded with solid silver tiles, hence the name is covered with rugs and mats to protect it. Inside there was a sublime golden statue of the Buddha, weighing the same as Wass, and covered in diamonds the size of hazelnuts. There were many other little pagodas and pain-stakingly ornate buildings, as well as a collection of large stone Buddha's. After this, a much more sobering trip to the Tuol Sleng museum, otherwise known as S-21. This school turned prison was used by the Khmer Rouge the barbaric communist party led by Pol Pot as a torture, interrogation, detention and execution centre for all those believed to be anti-revolutionists. The aim of the revolution was a modern agricultural country engaged in the production of rice and little else. Relations and family meant nothing; marraige was only for making children who could farm; education, medicine and any sort of learning was forbidden; everyone had to wear black pyjamas and work silently in the fields; the learned had to pretend to be illeterate to avoid persecution. The killings included teachers, doctors and intellectuals or academics of any sort. Photos of the 14 burnt, wounded and decaying bodies found after the Khmer Rouge fled adorned the walls. Stark metal beds and manacles are all that remains as evidence of the crimes, as well as the mugshots of the thousands of victims, a few skulls showing various wounds and photographs of the mass graves unearthed at Choeng Ek just a few miles away.We then made our way to the "Killing Fields" Choeng Ek Genocidal Centre, as the road sign told us where there was a memorial for the victims, which housed a storeys high display case of the 9,000 skulls found and deodorised clothes from the graves. Around the fields were various mass graves, containing up to 450 people per grave, some headless, and one grave of over 100 women buried with their babies' skulls. There were still some old clothes on the path and shards of bone visible in the dust. We even found a tooth just lying on the main path. Wass and I had a discussion in the tuk tuk about how little the world knows, if anything at all, of a twisted regime implemented only 30 years ago that killed 1.2 million people, and how the West's comprehension of crimes against humanity only extends as far as Hitler.That afternoon, we went to the Russian market in the city to relax after some grevious sight-seeing. We then went for dinner, stumbling across an English pub. The food here was amazing - better than in a real pub - and we feasted well. After dinner, I felt immediately hungry again and had been feeling unwell for a couple of days. We asked the hotel staff if there was a doctor we could see and they directed us to the mian hospital. We walked in and a guard directed as towards the A&E room to be seen. People in masks stood outside crying as their loved ones were being operated on it the room. Feeling that walking in was not only totally inappropriate but also risky, we shyed away. We were still ushered to a desk on the far side of the room but we realised this was not what we were after. A Frenchman who was there with a couple of his students - we didn't pry - told us that this was normal. We said we were just after a clinic and he directed us to a 24h one a little distance away. We arrived at this place which looked twice as clean, modern and far more decntly run. We saw a Cambodian doctor who spoke good English and did various checks, only to conclude that I rest more and that it was probably my body's reaction to the heat. Wass was occupying himself with avoiding the cockroach running about the floor, which the doctor remarked with as little thought as though remarking a change in the weather. We left and came back to pack.This morning we had an early start to get to Siem Reap. This bus journey was nearly as arduous as the last but for different reasons. We were told we would stop for breakfast. This was not until 11.30 so we were starvng. The "toilet'', a very loose interpretation of a lavatory, had a bucket for flushing. Also, after clambering over bags to reach it and the bus guide opening the door for me, I realised that there was no toilet paper and turned to go out, but he was blocking me in. I told him I needed paper, he did not understand, so I had to push past him to get out. By this point, he must have though me very strange, asking for the loo, then walking out. I wielded my toilet roll in front of him in the hope of enlightening him. He was still looking at me strangely and made a mock face of understanding, although clearly none-the-wiser. The road was really bumpy and we were being constantly thrown off our seats. Then we got our meal from a restaurant - pretty average until I found a dead tick in a piece of meat on closer inspection, so that was the end of that meal. We arrived in Siem Reap and were taken by tuk tuk to our hotel of choice. As we headed towards a caf in search of a snack, we found a man with no hands selling books on the street. He had a piece of paper telling his story as a landmine victim who then became a beggar and now is married with kids and his own stall. He is quite the celebrity having been interviewed by a BBC reporter. Wass bought a biography of a woman who survived the Khmer Rouge Regime and who's father was killed at S-21. We carried on to a caf which was reputed as being pretty good. What an understatement! As well as actual Western snacks no weird sandwich flavours in sweet bread in sight and proper cakes, the upstairs seating area was amazing! It was essentially a long wall of beds arranged like a sofa with loads of cushions and little tray tables to eat from. Following this, we hit another market and then walked by the river.

Fri May 15, 2009 Full Page

We left you on our journey to Hoi An... An annoying journey that really could have been done in two hours but was stretched out with an elongated wait at another hotel to pick up guests and a 40 minute stop at 10.30, I quote "for lunch", where an abrasive Vietnamese woman boarded our bus, woke us up and herded us into her restuarant. You can't go many places in Vietnam without the classic, "I show you my friend's shop/hotel/restaurant". We arrived, got on a moto taxi bag wedged between the handle bars and the driver and arrived at our hotel. The hotel was amazing - it was like being on a holiday in Greece, with a pool and loungers, and breakfast served on a terrace overlooking the pool. We headed into town and tried to get our bearings - very difficult for females, who distinguish by landmarks, because every other shop is a tailor's and they all look the same! The next three days were spent running about town from fitting to fitting trying to get a tuxedo, 3 shirts, 2 dresses and a bowtie sorted and to the post office before we left. There is very little to see in Hoi An, except for the Japanese bridge nice, but feels like a slightly desperate attempt to rustle up some more sights in calling it an attraction and the old city, oh, and a very muddy river and a beach. We met a group of KES people for dinner - dinner at a street eaterie for 14 was an ordeal - and then returned home to crash out.The following morning, we met with the KES boys and made for a haircut. We all watched in anticipation as Wass' head and every part of his face were maticulously shaved. Neck, ears, forehead, nose, nostrils were all lovingly dehaired by the barber. That afternoon, we rented city bikes to go to the beach - this was tough in the scorching heat but was worth it. As we sunbathed, trouble insued when a group of Vietnamese boys started taking sly photographs of us, namely myself being the only female in the group. I suggested trying to charge them "one dollar", this being a universal concept in Asia, although Wass decided upon a more aggressive stance, which involved him confronting the boy and the poor sod nearly shitting himself! Then a Vietnamese vendor approached us asking what the matter was and if she could help. This woman was an absolute corker. She initially offered her advice, "Don't be angry, be happy", and "Don't be lazy, be crazy" and then her wares. Wass inquired how much for a pineapple, and she replied "300,000 dong" twelve pounds at which Wass looked incredulous. She then said, with a flicker of a smile, "I'm pulling your legs!" and offered it for 30,000 dong, followed by, "I understand if you do not want to pay 30,000 - you can pay more" and smiled again. After more joking, the pineapple was ours. We then cycled back and chilled out after a sweaty afternoon. The next day was spent running around the town to get more fittings. I had a lovely lady who, as well as enjoying getting my kit off and talking about my bottom on her shop floor, also referred to "boobies" and mistook my giant flipper feet flip-flops for an overly effeminate pair of Wass' shoes... How embarrassing! I was starting to suffer from heat exhaustion and so we did very little for the rest of the day. The next day, we spent the morning at the post office - we may beat our clothes home as they are going by sea. I raised my concerns at Somalian pirates but Wass assured me with a roll of his eyes that our clothes would not be the target of an attack. That afternoon we spent ages looking for a restaurant near our hotel for lunch and attempted to wander into a few people's living rooms to eat not understanding that it is standard practice to open your front doors out onto the street for all to see . We spent the afternoon in the pool and then took a sleeper bus to Nha Trang.The sleeper bus was the worst transport yet - you can't fully recline and are at the mercy of your driver and his driving . We were at the front so were subjected to the horn through the night, as well as the driver attempting to open crisp packets one-handed and ignoring his ever-ringing mobile phone. We arrived at 6am, knackered and made our way to the hotel. I then spent the rest of the day in bed, after a delicious breakfast of Coco Pops, whilst Wass went in search of the train station, the A- hole Mart and Pantene Pro-V and returned sweaty and exhausted. That night we went to a seafood restaurant and walked to the beach in the rain yes - it rained! . The next day we walked to the beach for a quick poke around where we saw a furball floating in the water near us. As it was washed in, it became clear that it was a large, bloated rat. We soon left! That afternoon, we took a soft sleeper train to Saigon, where we ended up with our own, comfortable and peaceful cabin. I had also managed to procure Middlemarch by a book exchange Cambridge reading list and Wass had a packet of Oreos so we were both plentifully amused.Our initial impressions of Saigon were chaos, choas and more chaos. The traffic is crazy and it's the biggest city in Vietnam. We arrived at our hotel after a hair-raising moto ride, checked in andthen headed out for some dinner. Yesterday, we walked to the War Museum, a shocking depicition of the war - complete with photos of dismembered bodies and bomb victims - and with a mock prison cell where Viet Cong people were tortured. Then, we had lunch and went to the Reunification Palace a very 70's retro pad for the Vietnamese president before the takeover and walked past the Notre Dame and the People's Committee Hall where I had Wass take an excellent jumping photograph he was not amused . Today we got up early to the Cu Chi tunnels used by villagers to escape the American bombing. They were bloody tiny! We got to go in one that had been made larger for "fat" Westerners which was very claustrophobic and pitch black. There was also a shooting range where you could purchase 10 machine gun or 10 AKA 47 bullets, to which Wass received a firm no, to fire at targets. In addition, there was a wonderfully un-PC movie about the American bombings with choice lexis, such as "merciless" and "viscious" I pity any Yank who has to sit and watch it . This afternoon, we were headed for the Shark Water Park for a bit of Asian-drowning-spotting according to the KES people, most Vietnamese can't swim and so need to be rescued from the crash pools , but ended up just crashing out and then going on a potographing mission. On our way, we came across a park where hundreds of Vietnamese were enjoying their daily exercises, including a large group of women following some aerobics instructors girating, thrusting and jogging.Tomorrow we get on a bus to Cambodia to Phnom Penh...

23 Sep 2009

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