Get Thee to a Nunnery

Yes, it's true. It seemed the worst had finally happened and my iPod, my source of familiarity and instant homesickness cure had died. Panic ensued; could it be repaired? Could I buy a new one? Could the budget cope with either of these situations? These questions were certainly not going to be answered in Bolivia.

Peru is a lot cheaper than the UK with the average price of a hostel bed in a dorm at £5-£8. Bolivia is even cheaper with our private room with TV and supposed hot shower (at this point icy cold and death-risk) at £3. Not too bad. We'd come to see Lake Titicaca, the highest commercially navigable lake in the world at 3 800 m. One of the largest islands in the lake is the Isla Del Sol which, every morning at 8.30am, a load of boats take unsuspecting gringos over to (~ 2 h journey) to get exhausted and burnt. Due to the fact that there's so much water you forget that you're still at high altitude given that you're climbing between 3 800 and 4 000 m, you really feel it. The views are spectacular though and along the way we bumped into one of the Irish Couchsurfers from Juan Carlos' place back in Cuzco. He decided to take issue with the fact that there are checkpoints along the hike where you have to pay Bs5 or Bs 10 ( 50p or £1) and had a fight with one of the money collectors. We headed off so we didn't see the outcome but I believe he paid in the end. The boat picked us up at the other end of the island and we headed back to Copacabana for a hamburger in one of the touristy bars. Good chips mind.

The next day it was another bus to Puno and then to Arequipa - the second biggest city in Peru. We were joined on the bus to Puno by a load of people most of whom were trying to Cuzco but as there was a major transport strike on, there was little chance of that despite the fact that some of them had paid extra for their bus to take a "detour" so they could get there anyway. A couple of them decided to come to Arequipa instead and joined us on the bus.

It was a fairly exciting ride. For one thing, there was no toilet on the bus and as it was a 6 h journey, this meant no drinking and thus lots of dehydration. It also turned out to be a driving street market with people getting on every so often to try and sell us things. One particular gentleman spent about half an hour shouting a lecture about coca leaves and their possibly being banned before ranting on about the magic cure all which he was selling (effected against syphilis and herpes amongst other things I gathered). We politely declined and were relieved when he got off the bus. We rolled into Arequipa and got a taxi to our hostel - part of a chain called "Point Hostels". The hostel itself was nice enough and the desk staff friendly but it became dreadfully apparent that there was a large group of staff members getting extremely drunk, loud and unpleasant in the bar and they continued this 'till quite late. I'm usually one to live and let live but these guys were also being unpleasant and extremely disrespectful to the locals who also worked there making food and cleaning rooms etc. We had the evening meal which was very nice and we made sure we said so to the Peruvian lady who made it. In short, don't stay at Point Hostels unless you’ve heard that they've cleaned up their act and laid off their freeloading staff.

Anyhow, we met our Couchsurfer, Andrew the next morning. He's from Wyoming and has spent his life teaching English in a number of different places including South Korea, Ecuador and Botswana to name just a few. He uses it as a means to travel and live in different places - great work if you can get it. He took us into the centre of town and for a fantastic lunch at one of the local establishments. We then took a walk around ourselves to see if we could take a trip to the Colca Canyon, about 3 h drive away. We could have done but most of the trips involved staying there at least one night with a 3.00am get up and after our Inca Trail and Jungle experiences, we felt more inclined to have a quite few days. We did decide to do a little Arequipa sightseeing though (we usually avoid paying for stuff) and next day visited the Santa Catalina monastery.

When the Spanish took over Peru they brought Catholicism with them and it didn't take long for monks and nuns to follow. To this end, a number of monasteries and convents were built including this one. I have to say that it was stunning and was a lovely, peaceful, relaxing place to hang out. You could hardly believe that there was a bustling city outside the walls. We spent several hours exploring, admiring the paintwork, artwork and big clay ovens that the nuns would have used. Charlotte quite fancied taking holy order if it afforded the opportunity to live there but alas…

The real nuns live next door as the original monastery was evacuated after earthquake damage (Arequipa is built on the side of an active volcano) but it was our gain - a real highlight for me and, as you’ll see on Flickr no effort was required taking nice photos of it.

We also met Momia Juanita, the Inca Ice maiden who’d been found on one of the mountains nearby. She’d been perfectly preserved in the ice for ~500 years before being melted out by one of the volcanic eruptions. She rolled down the mountain about 100 feet and her face was exposed to the sun for a bit so it was bleached and a slightly damaged but she really is amazingly preserved.

That evening Andrew and Maru made us “Pastel De Papa” which is a Peruvian potato dish a bit like potatoes dauphinois. It was served with a spicy orange sauce called “Ocopa”. All delicious - both of these you can find on the recipes page. Incidentally, there was some discussion about Burns (Charlotte has it on the Couchsurfing profile that I do Burns poetry) so the second serving of Pastel De Papa was addressed as a haggis. Peruvian shandies (beer and Inca Cola) and sweet red wine were drunk, tunes were played and the Gay Gordons was demonstrated again - a great evening.

The next day we decided to try and have a normal day as if we were at home so we went to the cinema to see “Wall Street”. It was a bit financial and complex but good and I was struck by how much Michael Douglas looks like my grandfather (Alan’s side). Our final meal with our lovely Couchsurfers was my classic home-made hamburgers with apricots and tattie wedges. I really did beging to feel like I was back home. That feeling was accentuated when, that evening my iPod magically started working again. I don’t like to count my chickens but at the time of writing it is behaving as if nothing ever happened. I’m really glad as it makes such a difference to the long journeys.

We now had two days before our flight from lima to Cuba so we decided to be safe rather than sorry and head to Lima two days early using the posh bus service, Cruz Del Sur. It couldn’t have been more different to the crazy Julsa bus from Puno to Arequipa. At the bus station we were scanned for weapons before getting on the bus where we found on-board cabin crew, TVs (3 movies were shown during the journey), blankets, pillows, dinner, breakfast and even bingo. The combination of that and my now healthy iPod made the 16 h journey pleasurable. We arrived in Lima this morning and we’re now staying at the Pariwana hostel – really nice and a big contrast to the nasty Point Hostel in Arequipa. Today we took around Lima which despite being a crazy big city actually has some really nice buildings. We took in the Chinatown and had some of the Chinese-Peruvian crossover food. We even came across another possibly ethnological event which along with the really cool green crossing man in Arequipa is part of our Peru video.

Although we’re not staying with Couchsurfers here, we have been invited to a pot-luck Couchsurfing party tomorrow so our main job tomorrow is to try and make some shortbread to contribute. Given that the hostel oven is pretty dodgy and there’s no dish to make it in, this could be very interesting.

Love to all.

Jungle sweaty times and a spot of uncharacteristic spontaneity

We took our leave of our generous host Juan Carlos and headed to the airport for our flight to Puerto Maldonado, and our jungle trek. The airport security was unexpectedly harsh. Before we could even check in our baggage a guy searched through everything in Paul’s big backpack. Then, when we were going through security a particularly unpleasant woman took everything out of my bag (I felt so violated!), removed a ball of string (which she refused to give back), and acted like I’d committed a particularly nasty and obvious crime. (Incidentally, balls of string are useful for things like tying falling apart baggage together, and hanging washing off. Today my wet clothes are making bedspreads damp instead.) To add insult to injury (or, as it happened, injury to insult), on the plane the cabin crew decided to take my fiddle away from me to put in a special cupboard, then dropped it when they gave it back to me. Gah!

When we arrived at our destination we were hit by an immense cloud of heat and humidity. I’ve never experienced humidity like it, except in Gracemount sauna and there you’re allowed to sit still and wear just a swimming costume. It was like being squashed by a duvet. The air was rusty with dust, and later, even though the sky was covered with cloud, the sun and moon (not at the same time, of course) shone through red. The tour company picked us up and conveyed us to their office, then along a long dusty red road (under re-construction from rainier times) to meet the boat which would take us to the jungle lodge. Puerto Maldonado was also made of motorbikes, and I felt sorry for their helmetless passengers as they caught our bus’s dust cloud as we rumbled past. Our party was made up of Paul and myself (clearly), 4 Spaniards from the Canary Islands (don’t talk to them about British tourists...), although one was really from Cusco, and 6 Americans from North Carolina.

The river was wide and muddy, just like in the documentaries, and there were giant capybaras (glorified guinea-pigs, although they looked like mini hippos) on the banks. They gave us some yummy rice steamed in a banana leaf to eat on the boat. I do enjoy Peruvian food! Then we travelled down the river for 2 hours, me so excited to finally be in Amazonia – ever since the y3 Amazon class project I’ve always wanted to go there. Ok, so the river we were on was the Tambopata, not the Amazon, but it was still rainforest. Eventually we reached the lodge – it all felt very tropical. Fruit trees everywhere, log cabins, colourful flowers, and yellow-tailed birds with made the weirdest call. Something like a gurgling plop sound. Or something churned out by a computer when you get an email or something.

When it got dark we went on a night hike through the forest, seeing mostly very big spiders, tiny lizards, and grass-hoppers. But also fireflies which I’ve never seen before. They danced and flickered in quite a magical way. Very prettily. Dinner, then to sleep in what felt like some kind of princess bed, surrounded by mosquito net, the smell of fermenting starfruit, and listening to the stereotypical jungle noises from outside. We were getting up at 4am the next day (oh, how we’re pros at that now) to watch some macaws lick a wall. Early night.

A long boat ride the next morning took us to a little shore where we could watch a big clay cliff with hundreds of birds attached, licking it. Apparently the fruit in the dry season carries toxins which they can’t digest, so licking the clay early in the morning means they can eat fruit for the rest of the day safely. It’s also a good meeting place to find a mate. Like going to the pub. Most of the birds there were little green macaws and parakeets, but there were also huge multicoloured macaws which were amazing to see (with borrowed binoculars – from our viewpoint they were just brightly coloured spots). Sometimes a hawk would scare them, and all the birds would swarm up en masse. Sometimes there were toucans. Really interesting sight, and exciting to see such exotic birds in their natural habitat.

Before lunch we had a trip to a waterfall pool where a weird looking bird got very involved with Paul’s feet, and our poor American friends were traumatised by the disturbingly squelchy mud underfoot. Then after lunch we had a walk through the jungle. I’ve never sweated so much in my life, in fact I had to embrace it. Surprisingly I wasn’t as bothered by the heat and the bugs as I’d expected to be. In fact, I would welcome a much more hardcore Amazon experience like a volunteering project for a month or so. Not sure Paul feels the same way...

Some in the group were disappointed that we didn’t see more creatures (although we heard some wild pigs making very interesting noises), but I was just happy to be among the trees and the smell. Pine forests have a distinctive smell; it didn’t occur to me that rainforests would too. I’m beginning to sound like such a tree-hugger! Before dinner we played hunt-the-caiman in the river boat. It involved shining a light in their eyes, and not surprisingly whenever we came near they slid below the surface with cries of ‘run away!’ We got to see the tops of a few heads, though. They’re like very small alligators. I think the guide had planned to wrestle one for us so we could see the whole beast.

I think the tour was worth it, despite being so short (oh yes, and despite lack of showers). It’s given us a taste of what the jungle’s like, and prepared us for the idea of possibly returning. It wasn’t really what I expected (to quote something from the wall of a launderette, ‘travellers see what they see; tourists see what they came to see’), but then it wasn’t going to be like a David Attenborough documentary anyway! The jungle seems like an age away now. We made it back to Cusco and wasted away a day waiting for our bus at 8.30 (yeah right! Try 10!) to take us to Puno. We met this English guy at the bus station who had been travelling for 2 years and had run out of money a year ago. He had taught himself to make jewellery to supplement his travelling, and was also busking with fiddle and drum (if only we’d hung around to have some tunes, could have been fun). His latest instrument was a didgeridoo he’d made from some weird bit of tree (carrying it all looked like a challenge). He’d started his journey by catching a boat from England to Spain, and continuing by boat to the Caribbean. I envy his progress in some ways (ok, lots of ways), but it’s a very different lifestyle! He was about to see if he could break into the rainforest national park without going through the formalities of guides or entrance fees. Good luck to him. We met another guy who was trying to do the same at Machu Picchu, and we haven’t heard from him since.

Also in the bus station was a very shady couple stuffing puppies into a small zip-up bag. The poor little things struggled and struggled, until the woman finally let them poke their heads out of a tiny gap, one on top of the other. Then the man swept them up, shoved a coat over the bag, and they hurried off. They couldn’t have looked more suspicious if they’d tried. The bus station was packed full of oddities, in fact. Including a golden shrine to Mary or some such saint. There are Catholic shrines everywhere. Roadsides, markets, etc.

We arrived at Puno bus station at 4am (what a familiar time) and shivered there until 7.30. Not nice, although there was a pretty spectacular sunrise over Lake Titicaca. Then we got the next bus to Copacabana (which the beach in Rio is named after), Bolivia – the first spontaneous act of our trip (as suggested by Melinda from the Inca Trail). It was very exciting, although daunting as we had no accommodation sorted, or had any idea of what the place we were going to was like. We found a hostel fairly quickly, and it seemed ok for a mere £3 each per night (oh yes, Bolivia is cheap!). We also found out fairly quickly that if we took a shower, we would simultaneously be frozen and electrocuted. Not sure it’s worth bringing it up with the owners though as there’s no English to be had, and there’s a limit to my miming and Spanish guess-work.

Outside came the sound of brass band and drums. There was some kind of children’s parade going on. Big tubas (and probably other instruments) wandered down the street, as kids of all ages dressed as witches, aliens, blackened faces etc – scarily, basically – ran in circles round the band, chanting. Then they stopped outside the police station for some chaos and running and chanting what sounded like playground rhymes, before moving on. The parade was still going on this evening when we went back to the hostel. I felt a desperate need to do some kind of ethnological fieldwork, but sadly still have no idea what was going on. It reminded me of the description of Swedish Easter Witches – mostly because of the Hallowe’en-esque costumes at an odd time of year. If anyone finds out more about this before we do, please let me know! (Incidentally time of writing was 21st Sept, September Equinox - don't know if that has anything to do with it or if it's just coincidence.)

Went and had fish and chips Bolivian style for lunch (trucha - the main specialty here). It consisted of fried trout with lime and chilli and things, with rice and chips. Yum. We ate at a row of beach huts away from the tourist cafes (it seemed to be where all the local police were eating), and have spent the rest of the time hanging around and working out what we’re doing tomorrow. Oh, and mourning Paul’s iPod. Yes, he has lost the use of another very important thing to him. I sense a curse...

Magic Elixir, Nosebleeds, Ceviche and Incas

The BBQ evening was great spent with Ania, Dave and Mikhail (Polish, Australian and Slovenian Couchsurfers) and Juan Carlos and Susan, another Cusco Couchsurfing host. The meat was amazing as usual and Juan Carlos had a "magic Peruvian elixir" which when brushed on the meat while BBQing made it even better (keep an eye on the recipes page on the blog for this and other recipes). We played more tunes and sang more songs and a great time was had by all.

The next day we had great plans to visit one of the Inca sites just out of town but it turned out to be a no go-er. As we mentioned, Cusco is at high altitude (3400 m) and amongst the symptoms of high altitude and dryness is nosbleeds. Charlotte had one first thing in the morning after blowing her nose, another one over breakfast and just when we though it was OK she had a spectacular one in the tourist information place which was exacerbated by the heat and the fact that we´d just walked an hour into town. Plans were abandoned and we headed back to Juan Carlos´s place and took the rest of the day easily.

All was better after a night´s sleep and we were invited to Susan´s house for a bit of a nosh-up and a shindig. We´d also been promised Ceviche, a classic north Peruvian dish made of raw fish, lime, evaporated milk, chillies, and various spices including monosodium glutimate (a really common additive here in South America. They view it as a herb and really, why not?). It was amazing and we munched away gratefully. Many beers, whiskies, caipirinhas and chocolate martinis were drunk and after more tunes, a Jeely Piece song (for Susan´s wee boy - there´s a video on Facebook) we staggered back for a good night´s sleep before the big Peruvian event. The Inca Trail and Machu Piccu.

Background

There are two ways of getting to the Inca city of Machu Picchu. One is to take the train (the easy way) and the other is the famed "Inca Trail", a 4 day trek through the Andes. Our great friends Athole and Kathy trod this path before us and I was informed that if we took the train to Machu Picchu Athole would "kill me". Fearing my life, I esquired about the company that they´d used, booked it and held my breath.

Monday 13th September, 5.30am, Cusco, 3400 m

We were picked up by a minibus and driven to the town of Ollyamtambo where we bought trekking sticks and had a bite to eat. We then arrived at km82 (2800 m) where the trail starts and we met our group. There were 16 of us, three Canadians (Heather, John and Jared), three Germans (Christan, Sebastian and Mandy), five South Africans (Philip, Melinda, Dimitri, Kerry and Narida), three Americans (Mandy, Barb and Richard) and of course a Scot and and Englishwumman. Our guide was Freddy - a bit of a legend as he was the same guide Athole and Kathy had and he was assisted by Ernesto, 21 porters and a chef. Freddy instantly named us "family" (a bit of a habit of his if you read Athole and Kathy´s Blog). He was amazing, his enthusiasm was infectious and he encouraged us through the hardest parts of the trek. Ernesto is a guide-in-training and later it turned out that he was trekking with us while his wife was in labour with their first child. What dedication!

The first bit was a mild uphill but as we were still fresh it seemed easy enough. We were made into warriors by Freddy after painting our faces with a squashed cactus parasite (containing the red dye, cochenille) and we eventually arrived at our first Inca site, Patallacta. we then had lunch which was served not as a pan of nasty freeze-dried food but at a table in a tent set up like a restaurant. It has to be said that the porters and the chef were the real stars of the show. They carry a maximum of 25 kg each including tents, gas cannisters, and foodstuffs up and down all the crazy slopes leaving the puffing and panting Gringos feeling ridiculous by comparison. They then set up the lunch or overnight (or second breakfast in one case!) stop well before you get there, applaud you when you arrive and serve you a meal (soups, stews, pancakes, rice, tatties, pasta, jelly - more carbohydrates than you can shake a stick at) which would not be out of place in some of Peru´s finest dining establishments. It´s really amazing. The path really started to climb late in the day but this was just a taste of things to come...

Tuesday 14th September, 6.00am, Wayllabamba, 3000 m

We were woken up by Ernesto and served coffee/Coca tea (the precursor to cocaine but perfectly legal in Peru and very good for the altitude) in our tents before a fantastic breakfast, my first experience of a squat toilet and off. It was immediately hard going as we were heading up to Warmiwañusca or "Dead Woman´s Pass" at an altitude of 4200 m. It´s amazing the extent to which you really notice the altitude as you climb up and many of us were really struggling. I wasn´t the first to reach the top by any stretch and there were definitely times I though I wouldn´t make it but I have to confess a massive sense of pride when I did and realised that I´d climbed a distance of 1200 m. I am by no means Mr. super fit so it was a big achievement for me. It´s worth mentioning that we did have the option to hire a porter to carry our stuff but we didn´t and carried our kit, sleeping bags and mats ourselves. We had all taken a stone from the bottom of the valley and at the top, Freddy performed a ceremony to Pachamama (Mother Nature as we would say) which involved piling the stones up with coca leaves and pouring some Peruvian rum over. We all got a nip but were under strict instructions to pour some out for Pachamama before drinking. There was then an hour or so of climb down and just when we thought our calves and knees were going to give out we reached the campsite at about 2.30pm, had lunch and took the rest of the day off. There were toilets at the campsites, generally unpleasant but usable but this one had a shower which, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to use. When the icy water crashed down on me I cursed my desire to be clean but I remained a man and had a cold, cold shower.

Wednesday 15th September, 5.30am, Pacaymayu, 3600 m

After the crazy heights of the day before, the next two passes at 3950 m and 3650 m seemed a snitch and we were toured round some more Inca ruins by Freddy. We were in the Cloud Forrest by this point and the vegetation and scenery felt much more like the Amazon. The following 1000 m descent (known as the "Gringo Killer") nearly destroyed us but Charlotte and I decided to take the long way to the campsite through terraces and an amazing view of the valley. We arrived to another amazing meal and a cake, steam-cooked and decorated by Louis the culinary genius. We said good-by to the porters at this point and Richard, as the oldest trekker and the "papa" gave a speech thanking them. There is no-way I could have carried a tent and equipment on the trek and living on freeze-dried food for 4 days would have killed me. These guys were amazing and we couldn´t have done it without them. An early bedtime was necessary as an early start was looming...

Thursday 16th September, 3.50am, Wiñay Wayna, 2700 m

Ernesto woke us up (no Coca tea this time) and after a very quick breakfast we booked our places in the queue for the check point. The aim was to arrive at the Sun Gate to see the sun rise over Machu Piccu at 6.30pm and since the check point opens at 5.20am and the trail from there takes an hour and a half it was a bit of a race. I think by this point I was so used to trekking that it seemed relatively easy and despite the fast pace, we were some of the first there. At first it was too misty to see anything and around us we could hear complaints about how people could have had extra time in bed. Some even gave up and moved on but they missed the real magic. At about 6.40am, the sun rose over the hill behind us, burned the mist away and Machu Picchu was revealed, one of the seven wonders of the world. It was a magical experience and even Freddy, who did it all the time was loving it.

Freddy toured us round telling us about the Temple of the Sun and the three levels of the Inca religion, all with his trademark enthusiasm. It was weird after being in the back of beyond the extent to which we felt hurled back into civilisation. Like Iguazu Falls, Machu Piccu feels a lot like a theme park with expensive restaurants, LOADS of tourists (lazy people according to Freddy) and toilets which you pay for. It was amazing though as (unlike Cusco) it stayed untouched by the Spanish until it was "re-discovered" in 1911.

We then bussed down to Aguas Calientes., a plastic town of restaurants, coffee bars and souvenir shops. We had a nice last meal together though and after realising that wandering the town wasn´t going to while away the afternoon, we found a coffee shop with an upstairs room and a pile of illegal DVDs (something of a theme in South America). We met Freddy (worse the wear after a boozy afternoon) for the train and bus back to Cusco where we crashed.

Today was an easy day as you might imagine. We met Kathleen who´s arrived to do some volunteering with Juan Carlos and the three of us headed into town to do some shopping including lunch at the amazing market here. Our bargaining skills are really improving and Charlotte managed to knock a bag down from 30 Soles to 24 with a pair of socks thrown in. Tomorrow we head away from Cusco to our next adventure and the Amazon Jungle.

So that´s the Inca Trail folks. I have to say a huge thank you to Athole and Kathy for threatening my life and passing on the details of the tour company and also a huge thanks to the wonderful people we trekked with. You´d expect in a group of 16 to find someone you didn´t like but that really wasn´t the case. Everyone was lovely and I sincerely hope we see them again - they´re all welcome to come and stay with us in Scotland. The biggest thanks really has to go to Freddy, Ernesto, Louis the chef and the legion of porters who made the whole experience as incredible as it was. I couldn´t imagine a better way to reach a seventh wonder.

Trust me, don´t take the train. Get yourself a trekking pole, some good company and walk. You´ll thank me later although maybe not on the descent to 4200 m....

Check ot the photos on Flickr! Love to all.

Broken Bow

Forgot to add on the last post - for those keeping up with the how long the fiddles will last stakes, Paul´s bow exploded last week while we were playing for the kids. Exciting!

Darkest Peru

Leaving Kat and Bruno's entailed another set of crazy flying. We took off around 12.45am from Salvador, got to Sao Paulo a little while later and had lots of airport joy time to waste until the next flight at 8.30am. Not easy to sleep. Then a flight to Lima in Peru, a very hasty rush through baggage, immigration and customs and leaping onto the flight to Cusco with half a million other tourists (there was another flight to Cusco leaving from the next gate 10 mins later). I was feeling too sick to see the landing, but apparently it was amazing. Cusco is a sight to see, to be sure, although upon landing the main concern was the whole breathing issue. Cusco is about 3,400 metres above sea level and they offer oxygen shots in the airport when you arrive (we didn't get one for some reason - we were too busy running the gauntlet of taxi drivers wanting our business). Paul had his first effort at haggling with a taxi driver. He was good, but made the classic beginner's mistake of telling the guy straight off the lowest price he would go to. So of course we couldn't get lower than 5 soles higher than that.

Armed with instructions to find our next couch-surfer host, we trundled through town to find that it's actually a really small place. After a little bit of getting lost (we're learning to appreciate the idea of agreeing a price first in a taxi, rather than watching an ever-ascending meter price) we found Juan Carlos's house. It was behind a brightly painted iron gate, and turned out to be an old Kindergarten. Perhaps one of the strangest couches we've surfed yet. Juan Carlos came to meet us, and you couldn't hope for a nicer guy. He rents this old Kindergarten from the owners, and keeps one or two rent-paying housemates, the rest of the rooms he fills with couch surfers. He explained that a while ago he was obliged to spend a few months living in America, but didn't have any money or job or anything. He found a couchsurfer, and was planning to stay with a new one each week. But when he explained his plan to her, she said that an old relative of her's was going to Europe for 5 months and needed someone to house-sit her (huge) house for very little rent. Soon after another couch surfer contact said he knew someone with 15 websites that needed updating and sorting out, and would pay higher than the average as well. So within very little time he had a home, a job, and friends. He's been giving back to couchsurfing ever since. He's kind of the King of Couchsurfing in Cusco.

That evening (struggling for breath and feeling a bit faint), he took Paul and I, and a guy from Hong Kong called Richard, to a weekly CS meet-up that he organises. This is the first time we've been to one of these (they happen everywhere), and it was great to meet fellow CSers! We even had our first dose of Coca leaf tea to help counteract the altitude sickness. The next morning we took a walk into Cusco (Juan Carlos lives in a neighbourhood called San Sebastian, which is about an hour's walk from the town centre) which was quite a struggle due to the oxygen thing, but we're training ourselves for the trek. We had our Inca Trail briefing, which was all very exciting, and got given some garish yellow t-shirts for trek souvenirs. Lovely.

Juan Carlos also runs a volunteering project, Peru 109, which many couchsurfers who stay with him participate in while they are here. So in the afternoon Paul and I, one of JC's volunteers we'd met the night before (Kelly), and a new CS arrival, Liz, went to a domestic violence shelter to help out for a few hours. It was amazing to see the work they do there, and frustrating that there could be so much more good done. Paul and I got the fiddles out to the delight of the kids who were fascinated. Afterwards they all wanted a turn on the fiddles, and a go with the camera, and a shot at wearing my sunglasses.

We also did the now traditional Gay Gordons lesson with Juan Carlos, and then we had a go at teaching the kids and their mums a dance. It was hilarious. It was Kelly's last day, so there was also fizzy drink to be had (including something ghastly and fluorescent yellow called Inca Kola, which tastes a lot like Irn Bru), crisps, and toys given out. All very exciting. The kids were so much fun and so curious about everything - it was frustrating not to be able to do more! I think they get to meet a lot of new people as Juan Carlos often brings CSers to see them. Must be great for them.

That evening we watched Cusco by sunset, went for a beer in an English pub (it had a balcony where we could look over the main Plaza, ok?) and JC, Kelly, Liz and I drank lots of wine while Paul cooked us a fab bolognese. Today we made another mission into Cusco to be proper tourists. And it really is Gringo-tastic. Europeans everywhere, and a Peruvian for each one trying to find ways to part them with their cash. That sounds cynical, but we represent a vast mine of gold to them, and they'll do anything to get it off us. We felt quite hassled, but we'd harkened the warning of the Scottish couple in Foz and so were prepared. Aside from the usual beggars, we were accosted by people trying to lure us into their restaurants, people wanting to sell jewellery, paintings, Peruvian woollens, and offering massages. Oh, and of course Macchu Pichu treks. But if you immune yourself to all that, then you can appreciate the breath-taking architecture and overall beauty of the place. I could look at some of those buildings all day. We did a token visit to the Inca museum (although it was mostly in Spanish, but the artefacts were nice) and then discovered a huge covered market. It had everything - including all the big piles of fruit, veg, and meat you'd expect. My favourite was all the little juice bars which took up rows of the market, and long tables where you could sit and eat all sorts of food which came out of big cauldrons guarded by old ladies. Hopefully we'll go back there soon for lunch. And there were LOTS of potatoes. If only Scott was here...

That's it for now. Tonight some more new CS arrivals are doing a BBQ, and then there's been a hint of going out to play music with a Peruvian musician we met last night. We'll have to see. Peru is vastly different again from all the other places we've been to in South America, and I'm looking forward to discovering more of it! (Even though we are on the complete typical tourist trail. It's a tourist trail for a reason, I suppose!)

A week in Camaçari

The first day back in Camaçari was an early start for some as Kat took Charlotte to her Jiu jitsu class. For those of you who don't know, Charlotte is not by any means inexperienced in martial arts - she did Judo right up to the middle of University. It's been a while for her but I'm told she held her own pretty well. I'm taking that as second hand information though as I did the sensible thing and stayed in bed.

The Brazillian custom of heading to the beach was adheared to beautifully this week as three were visited. The first, Guarajuba was my favourite of all the beaches we'd been to. It had no stones/rocks/sharp shells but instead white sands, big waves and the water was warm. Warm sea water is a bizarre feeling if you're used to the Arctic temperatures of the North Sea. Charlotte, Kat, Bruno, Nigel and myself bobbed around for ages, experimenting with different ways of jumping the waves. We visited another beach, Arembepe the next day but it was too rocky and the waves too big. They would have been great to play in but there was a very high probability of being smashed to bits on the rocks. When even the Brazilians think it's a risk you've really got to listen. We did have some beach food there though - wee fried and battered fish with more fantastic meat and some kind of root which was like giant chips. It's a hard life.

Salvador feels very different to Rio, much more down-at-heel. Looking over the city from a high point you could see that the buildings really neaded some repair. It's an interesting mix of people though. In the past, slaves were brought to Brazil from Africa and most of them landed in Salvador. This keeps the city a very African feel and you can see evidence of African origins in the people. It even has a market selling African/Brazilian crafts. Despite the down-at-heel-ness there were some very pretty bits of Salvador including an area with the buildings all painted different colours. There were Hawkers everywhere though - the classic tactic was to offer you something as a "gift" and then take the gift back when no money was forthcoming. At one point there were folk doing Capoeira which is like a cross between fighting and dancing. We stopped to watch and the leader said we had to give him money for watching. When Bruno said "no" (it was a public area after all) he threatened to beat him up. We just wandered off and it seemed to pass OK.

A particular highlight of the week was meeting some of Bruno's family. We first visited his aunt, uncle and cousins who he and Kat had stayed with when they first arrived in Brazil. We then visited his mum and sisters, one of who has a baby on the way. His mum had made a very keen meal with some fantastic fish which even Sandy enjoyed, despite her fish dislike. We also sampled some of the freshest coconut ever as it was cut off the tree by Bruno and cracked open by his mum. More significant meetings were on another beach day-out with two of Kat's pupils (she teaches English here) who relished the opportunity to practice. Sandy and Nigel were particularly good at helping them find the right words and making sure they were pronouncing things correctly. They exchanged Skype addresses so perhaps the lessons will continue!

Incidently, there's an election here next month so it's been interesting to see the canvassing. It's quite a different style to the UK. The politicans employ people to drive around in their cars with big speakers on the roof blaring out election messages at full volume. The voting is done by number so the politicians have songs and jingles including the number so that folk remember. I was trying to think what a UK politician would have as their song...

Gordon Brown, Gordon Brown, he's the man to run the town,
If you're lucky he'll smile, not frown,
Actually, maybe that's not a good idea.

It's been a huge pleasure to stay here with Kat and Bruno and see a little bit of how they live here. Sandy and Nigel have also been great to hang out with and particularly helpful to our budget as the "free stuff with mum and dad" maxim has come into play big style. A huge thanks due to all but now it's time for Charlotte and I to head off on the next stage of our adventure. Tonight we fly Salvador-Sao Paulo-Lima-Cusco and a new country - Peru. Witha ll the Inca relics it's a tourist paradise and we've had lots of people telling us how wonderful it is and some saying how dreadful it is. We'll be the judges ourselves and you'll find out what we think her in due course. Keep up and keep checking out the photos on Flickr.

Love to all.