Down the Mines

Dylan writes: Up the hill from Potosi town there is a hill that contains a labarynth of tunnels that have been slowly digging their way into the mountain for over 500 years. The important minerals are mainly silver and zinc but there is some tin there as well. We had heard that it was an eye opener from many travellers and they were all absolutely right. As part of a group of six, and with an English speaking guide we made our way firstly to the processing plant. For me this was an essential part of the trip, as we not only learned how the minerals were delivered by the miners, but also how they sometimes could fix the batch so they got more money. Not that they get much, an average wage is around 600 Bolivianos for a month´s slog (thats around $70 USD). More about the working conditions in a sec. We were shown how the minerals were checked for quality to determine the pay to the miners, then how they where separated from the rubbish that is invariably part of the batch. Being in dangerously close contact with heavy industrial machinery and vats of slooshing cyanide (sp?) is something that would never happen in the UK (even in Wales) and something that we are both glad to have seen first hand. The main destination for the refined minerals, a surprise to me at least, is the UK.

From the plant we moved onto the miners market, a place where a child of 5 years can purchase 96% alcohol and sticks of dynamite! For the first time in my life, I was allowed to collect the ingredients for a bomb. We were given a quick run down on what the miners need everyday, and advised what to get them as presents. Kat got a bottle of pop, I got a stick of dynamite, a small bag of fertaliser, a bag of coca leaves, a detonator with a three minute fuse and two bottles of pure alochol (one for them, one for my troubles).

Then up the hill a bit more and into the tiny opening into the heart of the mountain at about 11 o´clock. From the outside you wouldn´t imagine what you were getting into! We had already been given our miners garb complete with head torches and Coca leaves to chew (helps you cope with the lack of air and intense heat, makes your mouth numb too). We set off for 200 metres or so along a narrow, low tunnel into the dark. This was the oldest part of the mine dating back to the 16th century. Every now and again we were having to dodge out of the way of trolleys hurtling down the tracks towards us bouncing off their wheels and groaning under the 2000 kilo load. Before long we came to a tiny hole beside the track. I joked with the guide that it would be really funny if we were to go down there, and he joked back that we were. There was no way I thought we could, until he went down first. The coca must have been working because we all followed him into the hole and onto a ladder several feet below our reach. Ok, so we could practically fall down the hole but I wasn´t even thinking how we where going to get back.

On level two we settled into a tiny "clearing" for lunch. There was a family of miners here eating lunch (coca leaves and alcohol - only on Fridays though, the weekend is for partying) and we spent the next 30 minutes chatting and drinking with the guide and the miners. Perhaps it was the consumption, perhaps the words of the guide, but at no time did either myself or Kat feel that we were even under the ground, let alone in any danger. It must be said (and has been in many books and by many other travellers) that safety standards are the lowest imaginable. There are no unions here, every miner is in it for himself, hence the gifts of explosives.

By the forth level the heat had got much greater and the tunnels newer, but much smaller. We were frequently on our hand and knees and on occasions being dragged by our feet through holes too small to breath in. For me this was the best part, and at the end of the tightest crawl we met two miners (brothers I think) with hammer and chisel, clearing the loose stone from a blast less than an hour before. I gave them the last of my alcohol (feeling they needed it more than me now) and crawled back to the sunlight.

I don´t know if I will ever go down a mine again but I can only imagine the reasons that these miners do it. The conditions are unhealthy, there is very little safety provision and the pay is tiny. But from what we were told there is a great tradition in mining and the money is still better than other jobs in the area.

To finish the tour our guide made a nice bomb for us to play with. When he pulled the lighter out of his pocket and lit the fuse I felt sick. However once he handed the armed dynamite to the big mouthed english girl for a fun picture I had to do it as well. With what felt like seconds to spare the guide grabbed the innocent looking bag of fertilser and explosives and ran down the hill. Before I had time to turn my camera on it had gone off sending earth and hearing skywards. I think I am going to have nightmares about that one.

There where many things that made us open our eyes on the tour of the mines, but the thng that saddened us the most was the amount of blood spilt by money grabbing politicans and looters. Throughout history thousands of slaves and locals have been killed needlessly over miners disputes, not to mention due to lung realated illness (the average age that the miners live to is 45 years).

For me, one of the industrial highlights so far.......

Frozen Flamingos

Kat writes: Finally we left La Paz! With Dylan healthy again and me contracting a stomach bug (good old Immodium) we took a bus to Oruro, 3 hours south of La Paz then a train, a further 7 hours south, to Uyuni. I´m sure the trip could be completed much quicker but the train takes its time. Plenty of leg room though so no complaints. We even got to see Grease dubbed into Spanish.

Uyuni is a bit like a ghost town, except in the desert. There isn´t a lot but sand and dogs (yes, more dusty dogs). The only reason anyone comes to Uyuni is to go on a tour of the surrounding landscape which is truly amazing. My descriptions don´t do the landscape any justice - they are so stunning and varied that you have to see them really.

The tours are done in a 4WD Toyota Landcruiser of questionable repair. There were 7 of us - a Saffa, 3 Poms and a Dutch girl. Everyone was really nice so that was handy, given we were all jammed in a car together for hours on end. Our driver was Eduardo who we believe was having a bit of nooky with the cook.

The tour starts with a trip to the Railway Cemetary where you find hundreds of rusted out old steam trains. This of course was heaven to Dylan and intersting to me for about 10 minutes. In fact, the previous day Dylan and I had hired bikes and cycled out to the cemetary and spent some time there. I was ever so pleased to do it twice. The old track was used to transport minerals from Boliva to Chile but that stopped years ago.

Dylan says: I really like trains.

Kat says: Then we drove onto the Salar de Uyuni, the world´s largest salt flat at 3,653 m above sea level. It is a sight to behold - stark white ground against a gorgeous blue sky with mountains (their shapes altered by heat haze) in the background. The salt has dried into identical hexagonal shapes so it looks like a never ending white tiled floor.

The next stop was the Isla de los Pescadores. You´re speeding along the salt flat when you come across this "island" in the middle of it. Nothing unusual in that except it is covered with huge cacti. The island is made up of coral and there are literally hundreds of cacti all over it. What a cool place!

Dylan says: What´s coral doing at 3,653 metres above sea level? This place is old!

Kat says: That night we stayed in a very small town, even more of a ghost town than Uyuni. Still, it had beds and, surprisingly, a hot shower. The sky that night was amazing.

The next day we saw a number of wonderful things. There are a couple of active volcanos which we didn´t get too close to - it was enough to see sulphur smoke coming out of the top from a distance! We came across a little hill that was home to a number of bizzare little animals called vizcachas. They are like a cross between a rabbit and a wallaby. They are obviously very used to tourists as they just sit there for you so you can take photos. There was one very daring little gerbal (sp?) who stole part of a bread roll off one of the vizcachas.

We also saw a couple of lakes (Laguna Canupa and Laguna Hedionda) that are home to numerous pink flamingos. They were great. We´ve never seen them before so spent a lot of time just looking at them. The last stop for the day was Laguna Colorada. The lake is red in colour due to the red algae that lives there. There are also lots of pink flamingos living there - so pretty with the pink against the red.

The next day we had to get up at 5am to get to Sol de Manana which is a geyser basin. There were some HUGE ones bubbling away. It was all mud and sulpher so the smell was attractive (Dylan says he likes the smell - weird boy). We had to get up early so that we could see the vapour from the geysers, in the day it is far too hot.

We then stopped at some hot springs for breakfast. We all dipped our feet in for a while but only 1 of us was game to go in completely (too bloody cold to take off your clothes to get in).

Dylan Says: There was a solitary flamingo looking for grubs in the warm water outlet, while all of his flamingo mates were frozen solid in the lake further away from the hot spring. Apparently this happens to them every night, while they sleep their little stick legs get frozen into the lake. They looked so happy!

Kat continues: The next stop was Laguna Verde which, as you can tell by the name, is a green lake, again because of microrganisms that live in it. It is more of a turqoise colour. The lake sits in front of a huge volcano (Volcun Licancabur) - the whole scene is spectacular. The algae is disturbed by the wind, therefore the more wind, the more green. Unfortunately for us it was pretty still when we got there, but was still spectaqcular.

We then drove to the Chilean border to drop off all of our group as they were crossing into Chile. Dylan asked the nice man with the big gun if he could take a photo of the border. Thankfully he agreed. Dylan also risked a quick dash to a bin that sat on the border, just so he could say he was (almost) in Chile.

Dylan says: due to security restrictions I am unable to display the picture here.

Kat says: That left Dylan, me, the driver and the cook. Not for long though as Wyn from Belgium (also left alone by his group) was put in with us. Wyn is one of those hard travelling types who goes everywhere the locals tell him not to as it´s too dangerous. There have been 30-40 attempted robberies over the last ten years (he comes to South America every year for holidays). All have failed so far due to his diving knife which he keeps attached to his leg?!

Anyway, while Wyn told us his stories, we drove on, and on, and on. This was a long driving day. Apart from the amazing scenery we were passing, the only main stop was in the Valle De las Rocas where there are hundreds of very bizzarely shaped rocks.

The final day was just the drive back to Uyuni, stopping in a couple of towns. One was called Pueblo Modelo. Not sure why it was built but is was very, um, quaint? I can´t think of another word. Very odd seeing such a model type village in the middle of nowhere. The other is San Cristobel, also a pretty little village.

Thus far, we had had no car problems (which was very surprising given the tracks we were driving over). We had to have one though. It was only running out of petrol (you would have thought Eduardo would´ve noticed a bit earlier) and a tyre going down pretty fast. No problem, lots of petrol in containers on the roof rack and a cook who doubles in her spare time as a mechanic.

We made it back to Uyuni without any further problems around mid afternoon. Then it was a bit of a wait until our night bus to Potosi. The bus was due to leave at 7pm and take 6 hours. It left at 7.45pm and took 8 hours. Not to be unexpected I guess. It wouldn´t have been such a problem except that there was only sufficient leg room for small 7 year olds. Still, we crawled into a very comfy and warm bed around 4.15am and slept soundly.

So we´re in Potosi now. Potosi is best known for its silver deposits, and the fact that it is the highest city in the world. There has been extensive mining here for a few centuries and there is some that continues today. You can do tours of the mines so we´re about to go and find one of those.

Tomorrow we get to play with dynamite......

Downhill Mountain Biking

Dylan Writes: Warning - really geeky bit on biking coming up.

Well I tried to get Kat to come on this one, but she wasn't having any of it. She booked her self into a 5 star hotel instead. Unfortunatly she spent most of the day re-arranging our flights while I was out putting fresh scabs on my knees.

My original idea was to ride "The Worlds Most Dangerous Road", but due to my medical need to drop altitude and therefore doing the road twice in ill-maintained minibuses I decided that I had done it enough. To be honest, the road from La Paz to Coroico IS very dangerous, but not that much cop for mountain biking. I think most of the people that ride it, do so for the bragging rights. I was more interested in some decent riding so I booked myself on some "advanced single track" with Gravity Bolivia.

A day before my ride I found out that there wern't enough people that wanted to do the single track stuff so I jumped into someone elses group to do the "Zongo Valley".

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The ride was fast, dangerous and spectacular. 46KM of dusty downhill track through some amazing valleys. We started at almost 4000 metres ABSL, all the way down to just over 2000 metres I think. We started up at the top of the valley next to an old miners graveyard and imediatly hit a series of tight switch backs which had us sliding all over the place. I think I am fairly competitive {thanks mainly to riding MTB with Derek} and wasn't over taken easily, it sure made for some short-filling moments.

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I also managed to take out an instructor {who later claimed that we where going to fast} and killed a bike {well bent the chain anyway :o} You really do need to have your wits about you when you are riding along side a 500 odd metre vertical drop, the road surface is awful, and using the brakes really is a "one finger job" to save your self from just locking up and sliding out of control towards the edge of nothingness. For my bragging rights at least it turns out that the second guide has won the national downhill comps 2 years in a row.

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For anyone thinking of doing it I would recommend Gravity over all the other companies doing it, they seem the most togeter of all the others I went to. They are the most expensive but have the best bikes {Kona's mainly}. Also the guides are all english speakers {mainly Ausies, Kiwi's and Septics}. Both bikes I used felt great right away and I learnt a few useful skills from the guides. By all means the worlds most dangerous road is a sight, but I did feel a little uncomforatble riding a road that people seem to die on every other week just for pleasure, I'm glad I picked a different route.

Oh and Kat managed to re-arrange all the flights and still had time to watch hours of english telly in a room with a hot tap on the sink!!

Flip Flops and Swollen Lungs

Kat writes: We'd heard lots of stories about how dangerous La Paz is so I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't what we saw. I, personally, like La Paz and never felt uncomfortable. That's not to say we let our guard down at all. The Bolivian people are extremely friendly, more so than in Peru (perhaps the Bolivians haven't had reason to hate tourists just yet).

One day we did a walk around various parts of La Paz. There were lots of markets selling all manner of bizzare things, from jeans to dead dried up cat (or that's what it looked like).

We also visited the Instrument museum (how could we not?) which was full of wierd and wonderful musical instruments.

We also came across the military band and numerous men in uniforms with big guns standing along a red carpet. After waiting some time, the man who we assumed to be the President of Bolivia came out of a building, they played the national anthem, the President got in a car and drove off. That was it. We wondered if all this has to happen every time the poor bloke wants to leave his office. We almost got into trouble when the national anthem started. Not knowing it was the national anthem, we kept moving around trying to get a better look. We sort of noticed everyone around us had stopped moving but it didn't twig even then. It took a man with a big gun to get it through our thick skulls that we had to stop still until the song finished.

We had planned leaving La Paz the next day to start heading south. Dylan wasn't getting much better and we were both thinking he might have a chest infection and would therefore need some antibiotics. Not wanting to leave it to the last minute, we waited until around 6pm to find a doctor. Thanks to the Lonely Planet, we met the "gregarious English speaking" Dr Ebert Jordan.

About one hour and and two x-rays later, we were given strict instructions to leave La Paz for a lower altitude for around 4-5 days. Dylan had bronchitis. Normally this would not be too much of an issue but because we were at high altitude, it can cause some swelling in the lungs (not so good). The x-ray showed some swelling had started so we had to "go down" for a bit while the bronchitis was killed off with antibiotics.

Dr Jordan was great and very funny. He even drove us in his own car back to our hostel, oxygen bottle in tow.

I then went to find a chemist - chemists in South America appear to stay open all hours so it was easy to find one open at 10pm. The chemist refused to give me the 10 antibiotic tablets the doctor had prescribed, telling me it was too much. Taking the doctor's word over the chemist, the next morning I went to a different chemist and asked for 4 more, which he gave me.

So now we find ourselves in Corioco. Coroico is at just below 2000m altitude so is a good place for Dylan to recover. It is a lovely little place and we found a fab hotel. For the equivalent of 4 pounds each a night, we have got a 2 storey room looking out over the mountains, a pool, sauna, videos to watch, etc etc. The weather is much warmer down here too (so yes Faith, it is time finally for flip flops and sarongs). Dylan is improving which is great and we're making the most of this relative luxury. We'll deal with insurance claims and re-scheduling flights when back in La Paz.

So that's our little excitement for the week. Very happy with the excitable Dr Jordan and even more happy with our "home" for the next few days.

We hope to head back to La Paz on Monday, Dylan's health permitting. Right now however, I think I might just stare at the mountains a bit longer.

A word must be said about our journey down to Coroico. The only way to Coroico from La Paz is via the Yungas Rd, better known as the "World's Most Dangerous Road" (it's ok mum, we made it). Unfortunately, we managed to pick the world's most dangerous minivan to take us.

Dylan writes: For the first 5 miles of so we became aware that there was a shaggy dog sat at every 50 metres or so, surely not an omen of the road to come. The minivan that we had was amazing, all of the shocks were shot and the steering wheel turned a quarter turn before anything happened. I was terrified for the first hour, and after that I think my senses just shut down and I spent the rest of the 3 hour trip staring straight into the pit of the valley, a 900 metre vertical drop below us as if we were flying through the clouds.

The driver was great though, he made us feel much better by driving one handed, whilst eating his lunch with the other hand and occasionally getting into the passenger seat to find the rest of his epic lunch. That was ok though because at times we couldn't see the driver through the dust that filled the van. Of course it's dust track all the way and just about wide enough for a bike in places (which is why they offer mountain bike trips down this road, now there's an idea).


Kat (and Dylan)

Lake Titicaca

Good news! Our clothes came back smelling clean! It is hard to explain why that means to much to us but when you only have a few clothes, it really does.

I apologise in advance for the lack of apostrophes in this entry but the keyboard won{t do them.

The last few days has been spent on and around Lake Titcaca. First, on the Peru side, we visited the Floating Islands and then 2 other islands - Isla Armantani and Isla Taquile. This time, we were determined not to get on a tour so we said "no" to the thousand or so people in Puno trying to sell us a tour and in the morning, made our way to the pier to buy our boat ticket. We did this, got on the boat and found we were on a tour. How the hell did that happen??!! Im not sure that we were meant to be on the tour but the guide assumed we were and we got the benefits. As it turned out, it was really good so no real complaints.

The Islas Flotantes were great. The people living on these islands have made the islands from buoyant reeds. They really are amazing. Someone has donated them a few solar power panels so its quite funny to see they have a couple of tvs and a telephone. Doesnt seem to go really. Dylan Says: Actually the reeds sit on top of another substance that we couldnt identify, but looks a bit like compost. The reeds are also a useful snack if you are caught short, and I had some, really nice - perhaps that why I got so Ill. Back to Kat: The people have to regularly replenish the surface of their islands with fresh reeds and the islands move around a bit, given they are floating...

Then we went onto Isla Armantani. The people living on this island have pretty basic and traditional lives (or so it appears). There are a couple of restaurants popping up but so far it seems fairly unaffected by tourism.
Families on the island volunteer to provide a bed and food to tourists who go there to get a little extra money. When the boat arrives the women of the houses meet you and you just go with one of them to their house. Our host was Valentina. She didnt say much but seemed nice. I tried some basic conversation but the language barrier put an end to that after a few minutes!

We met the guide later and he took us on a bit of a walk around explaining the background to various ruins on the island (still not sure we were meant to be with his group, but he never said anything).

Later after dinner, any families that have guests dress the guests up in traditional clothes and take them to a dance in the main hall. This wasnt a tour thing, they do it all the time with whatever tourists are around.

So after dinner, Valentina appeared with garments which she put on us. A big skirt with trousers underneath and hiking boots is always a good look.

On we went to the dance. From a distance, the drum beat made it sound like we were going to a rave but we agreed that was highly unlikely. Dylan says: Upon arrival to the town hall (a empty cement room lit from one end with a gas light) I bought one of about six beers that were on sale, and hoped that this would all be over quickly. A stranger experience I have yet to live through. Before my backside touched the seat I was dragged by a small peruvian woman into an absurd manical spiral. Within about five minutes my throat was so sore I thought I would die, yet the little drummer boy WOULD NOT STOP. I was in dire need of life support when finally our band abruptly decided they had had enough of the gabba anthem. There was a long pause, the only noise being the tourists gasping for the will to live, when out of nowhere, the song started AGAIN. The ritual humiliation of tourists continued. The hardest thing was finding a way out of there....

Kat continues: The next morning we met up with the guide at the boat, said Adios to Valentina and went to Isla Taquile. This island is a little more commercialised but nevertheless a lovely place. On this island the men wear these wee-willy-winkie (sp?) type hats. The red and white hats mean the man is single and the red ones mean he is married. The way the single men wear their hats denotes their status - single and looking, single but not looking, unmarried but in love. On this island nothing is secret.

Then it was back to Puno and the next morning we got on a bus to Bolivia. Last thoughts on Peru - amazing and varied landscape, millions of dusty dogs, very complicated procedures (eg, having to go to 3 different staff members just to buy tissues in a chemist - one to get the tissues, one to take your money, the other to give you the tissues), no one ever has any change (not even the post office), terrible pollution caused by badly maintained vehicles, fantastic ruins. I dont mean that to sound negative, they are just observations. We had a fabulous time in Peru and would recommend the trip to everyone.

Our fist stop in Bolivia was Copacobana, on the shore of Lake Titicaca. We cleared the border without having to bribe anyone which was a bonus. Copacobana is a laid back seaside type place. We wandered into a hostal to get a room (lets just make it clear that it was Dylans choice (Dylan says: through desperation) and on first appearance it appeared to be really nice. On closer inspection, it was filthy. I dont think the bathroom had been cleaned in about 10 years and Dylan found grit under his pillow. Nice.

Anyway, we had a walk around and went into the huge cathedral for a look. On the side of the cathedral there is a cave-like chapel completely covered in candle wax, with graffiti carved into the wax on the walls. There are a number of tables with burning candles that people put there. Quite spooky.

Outside the cathedral at 10am and 2pm each day, there is the Benediciones de Movilidades (blessing of cars) where anyone who wants their car blessed by a priest comes along with their pride and joy decorated in flowers. When everyone is lined up outside, a man in a monk-like robe comes out and starts splashing holy water all over the outside and INSIDE the cars and he drowns the cars occupants with it too. Im not sure what this says about Bolivias roads, or if it is the state of the cars or the drivers that is questionable.

The next morning rather than taking a boat from Copacobana to the Isla del Sol, we set off on a 4 hour trek from Copacobana to a place called Yampupata (where you can jump on a boat to the island). It was a really pretty walk although a little more of the uphill stuff than we expected!

We arrived at Isla del Sol (where the Incas believe the sun was born) at the bottom of some Inca steps up to the village of Yumani. After a steep climb we dropped ourselves and our bags at a lovely hostel called Casa de Don Ricardo. It is apparently run by an Argentine activist but we didnt see any signs of activism (whatever that means). Dylan says: I saw a picture postcard of a man putting his middle finger up and calling me a basta, which was quite active.

Kat says: We were going to go for a wander around that part of the island but Dylan came down with flu like symptoms and was not well at all, so we stayed put and just watched the sun go down over Lake Titicaca - gorgeous. I took the opportunity of having an advertised hot shower (which was of course only luke warm). The "frosted glass" on the window didnt hide much which is obviously something that has become known to the distant neighbour of Don Ricardo who Dylan thinks was looking at me through some sort of telescope. He is pretty sure of this as the man waved at him. I thought this was hysterical. Dylan didnt think it was quite so funny.

The neighbours (not the pervert side) cooked us a yummy dinner and then we went to our room and just relaxed (well, I relaxed. Dylan shivered and groaned a lot).

The next morning we got a boat back to Copacobana and then a bus to La Paz. Dylan still wasnt very well so he wasnt having fun (Nurofen just wasnt quite enough). We finally made it to a hostal last night where there are no windows in the bathroom and the beds are fairly comfy. We are going to stay put for a bit until Dylan recovers. He says he feels a bit better today so hopefully tomorrow he will be nearly 100%. Poor thing, it really hasnt been nice for him. So after weve posted this entry its back to bed for Mr Penhale and I will probably go for a wander around the sights of La Paz.

Kat & Dylan

Dusty Dogs

Kat writes: Having re-read the last blog entry I note we were anxiously awaiting clean clothes. Lesson for the day, never get your hopes up too high. Upon collection of our freshly laundered apparel, a question arose in our minds as to whether in fact the clothes had been washed or just waved around in the air a bit. The real doubt arose when I found one of my fleeces still had hair and dust all over it and smelled like dog (clean dog, but dog nevertheless). Upon further inspection it appeared a number of items smelled of dog. Maybe it´s a new detergeant - Persil, Puppy Pong. Later in the day I noticed my thermal trousers were missing (thankfully retrieved easily) and the next day Dylan noticed his bathers were missing (again, retrieved easily). Having now left Cusco, I am not thinking about what else might be missing.

Anyway, our remaining time in the Cusco area was spent out and about. One day we took a trip to the Sacred Valley (a couple of hours outside Cusco) to check out the ruins there. First we visited Pisac. Apart from the Inca ruins there is a market which for the most part is quite touristy but once you get through that there are the local markets selling veges and all sorts of stuff.

Visions of a very old lady weilding an axe and hacking up a lump of meat will remain with us for a while.

Then it was on to Ollantaytambo where there are more ruins. Amazing structures - it is mind boggling how the Incas (and in some areas, the pre-Incas) built them. Then it was onto Chinchero where there is what looks like a non-descript church (Spanish built). Once inside however, wow. The paintings on the walls and ceilings were amazing. Even the wood beams were painted.

Upon reflection, we should have done this trip ourselves over a couple of days but we thought for convenience and the benefit of a guide to explain everything, we´d go on a tour which was very cheap. BAD IDEA. For the first time, we felt like we were on some package holiday. It was great to have the guide but beyond that, it wasn´t worth it. Oh well, lesson learned.

Dylan adds: I have to agree that this really felt like a Butlins day out for me, and in the future wherever possible we will attempt to do things ourselves. I HATE tourists, and can´t stand listening to them go on about NOTHING for hours in a bus, and then show complete disrespect while the tour guide tries to explain the history of these incredible sites. However we are both quite old.

The next day we went on a white water rafting trip. As we´re both novices, the level 2/3 rapids were just fine by us. It was a fun day and a good intro for beginners. Unfortunately some had paid specifically to go somewhere else for a little more action but were lumped in with us. I
imagine that later that evening a certain tour operater got a bit of an ear full. Dylan adds: I thought it was far too easy and for girls. Next time we will do a proper session, at least a 4-5. That said, the river through the mountain was spectacular.

Having had enough of Cusco, the next day we got a bus to Puno which sits on the shore of Lake Titicaca. It was a fairly non-eventful 6 hour trip although concerns did arise when after about an hour the bus broke down. I don´t know what the driver did but about half an hour later the bus started again. We were fine though as we had a quality American movie being shown on the bus to keep us occupied (Jim Carrey was in it, I really hate Jim Carrey). Dylan adds: Why do they think that they can remake "It´s a wonderful life"? Some things should be left well alone.

Puno is very different to Cusco. It´s a lot smaller and much less touristy. It´s nice when the main "tourist" street is full of local people. We decided today to hang out here. We went to visit an old ship nearby but I´ll get Dylan to tell you about that.

Dylan writes (skip if you are not interested in boats I guess) : The ship is the oldest iron hulled boat still working. She is called the M.S. Yavari and she is amazing. The order was placed in 1861 by the Puruvian government to James Watts Foundry in Birmingham. The order was for two "Gun Ships", that could double as cargo/passenger ships. The truly amazing part of the story is that the ships where not to be assembled in England. The component parts of the ship where crated up and shipped around the Cape Horn to Arica (a Peruvian port). From there they where put on a steam train inland for 40 miles. From that point it was 250 miles and a climb of over 15500 feet over the Andes!! The transportation of the parts took mules and porters SIX YEARS! On Christmas day in 1870 the first ship was fully reassembled and launched, she made her maden voyage in April 1871. Back then she was Steam powered burning dried llama droppings, but as the lake is so high (around 3500 meters) you can imagine that the pressure difference was quite large. It took 6 hours just to build up steam, therefore in 1914 the steam engine was replaced with a huge 4 cylinder diesel from Sweden), the largest of it´s kind still in working order. The original steam engine no longer exists.

Walking around the engine room is a trip back in time with all the parts made all over England. It really is a walk back in time, a time when England was the best at something special. The Yavari has been fully restored and moves under it´s own steam (so to speak). Kat has just told me off for writing so much about the boat, I think I got a bit carried away.... it really is a nice boat though. In the picture below the water is being hammered by HAIL, the size we have never seen, quite moody.

Kat continues: We´ve also put some of our clothes back into a laundry here to try our luck a second time. Maybe it will be Persil Pussy Powder this time?!

Kat

Inca Trail

The next morning, bright and early (as usual) we were picked up to start the Inca Trail. The tour company drives you to the 82km point where you get out and start walking. Our guide was Oscar and the assistant guide Ollie (good Peruvian names). They both spoke very good English which was a bonus. Our group was pretty good too. There was an older Scottish couple (in their 60´s) who are on a 5 month trip - amazing! They were having a ball. They´re used to walking in the Scottish hills so they were pretty fit. Then there were a few Poms, a few Swedish girls (calm down boys) and a few Belgians. Everyone got along well and we had a good laugh.

 

Here´s us at the start

The first day was fairly easy. Gentle ups and downs for around 5 hours which was a nice introduction. All the time you are walking you are constantly being passed by the porters (from ours and other groups) virtually running past you carrying amazing weights. I know that it is a walk in the park to them but jeez it looked hard. They get to the lunch spot and campsite each day way ahead of you so that everything is set up when you get there. Speaking of food, the cook deserves 5 stars. He made really yummy food every lunch and dinner with the most basic of utensils and food. He also made a lot of it. If anyone had hopes of losing weight on the Inca Trail they were seriously mistaken. Even with all the exercise I couldn´t eat everything he made us. He would also carve out of some vegetable all sorts of animals and sit them on top of the rice or whatever else. His most brilliant creation was a bird out of a cucumber. 

Although the mouse out of a carrot was very cute. On the second morning we were awoken at 5.30 by a knock on the tent door and a gentle "buenos dias" and hot coca tea. After breakfast, Oscar introduced all the porters and the cook. He made an effort to point out who was single and asked us to introduce ourselves and do the same (we found out why later). 

Dylan was determined to introduce himself in Spanish, which he did, but instead of saying "I am 34 years old" he said "you have 24 arses". The second day is well known as the "challenge". And that it was. It's about 5 hours up hill, pretty steep uphill too. Still the porters ran past us... I had intended to carry my (big) backpack for the whole trek but after the first day found my shoulders were too wimpy. 

My legs and lungs seemed to cope ok but the shoulders were having none of it. With 5 hours vertical to come, I decided to pay a porter to carry it - yes I know, I´m a wimp. Dylan said to me that if I do that I´ll never know if I could have done it. I told him that that sort of thing doesn't bother me - must be a girl thing. So Dylan still carried his bag and I just had a small day pack. Up we went. Hard work, especially for Dylan. 

The climb is to reach "Dead Woman's Pass" (the top, from a distance, looks like a woman lying down). Dylan and I made good time but not as good as the Belgians who were never far behind the porters. We sat at the top cheering our group on as each one arrived. David and Maureen (the Scottish couple) were very close but looked like they might keel over so lots of extra shouts of encouragement were required. As a result we had David run up the last few steps to overtake a porter.

So after that effort, we had to do a couple of hours of steep downhill to get to the campsite. Oh the knees, again... We got to the camp site around 2pm and had the rest of the afternoon to collapse, which we all did. After a scrumptious dinner the oldest porter known as "Ochos Platos" or "Eight Plates" due to the amount he eats got out his flute and started playing some truly traditional songs and the rest of the porters sang along. The single porters grabbed the single girls to dance which was hilarious as the single girls were the 3 swedish girls and one English girl, all of whom were at least a foot taller than the porters. The third day began in a similar fashion to day 2 with the 5.30 wake up call and coca tea. This day wasn't quite as hard but still not a stroll. More up hill to the second pass with the end of the day being 3 hours steep downhill. In all it was an 8 hour day - phew. It was through different landscape though - through high rain forest and it was beautiful. Lots of pretty orchids and birds to look at. Dylan saw 2 different types of humming birds.

The final morning meant a 3.45 wake up call to get to the gate to enter the final trail to Machu Picchu, which opened at 5.30. For some reason Oscar had put it into our heads that it was important to get to the Sun Gate (about an hour on from the entrance) to look down over Machu Picchu before anyone else. At 4am this made sense although in retrospect was complete nonsense. When we were let through we took off as if we were chasing someone who had just nicked our bag. I was carrying my full backpack this day (the porter carried it the 2nd and 3rd day for me) which was fine initially as the track was pretty flat or only gentle up and down. Then it became quite steep and we were still going at a stupidly fast pace. I have never heard myself breathe that hard - I thought I was going to kark it. I had a fleece on and was boiling hot but for some reason thought I couldn´t stop to take it off. It was daylight and I still had my headtorch on my head, but for some reason thought I couldn´t stop to take it off. There came this vertical wall we had to climb up - that pretty much did me. Fortunately the Sun Gate was just after it. Dylan has a delightful photo of me once I reached the top (in a record 40 minutes) which I am hoping he´ll be kind enough not to put on this blog. Looking back, it is really funny that we all thought we had to run like the wind. It made no difference at all what time we got there. It was a very bizzare experience. So we first saw Machu Picchu from the Sun Gate and it is a truly amazing sight. We then headed down (much slower) to the Watchmans House which is where you can get the "postcard" picture from. We then went down to the site itself and Oscar took us around giving us the history etc. It was a great experience and really interesting. Oscar was great and tried really hard to answer any questions as best he could (given that a lot about Machu Picchu is theory rather than known fact). Dylan says: Anyone who has been to Machu Picchu will know this, but the images in no way reflect the beauty of this sacred place. Not only the amazing fact that this whole city had been built, lost and found, but the location. Standing on the edge of the mountain and looking out at the wallpaper scenery around you, it becomes apparent what the Incas were doing. I can´t find words to try to describe how awe inspiring this place is. Of course it could be the sheer relief that we wouldn´t have to walk up any more steps. That said, strangely enough, not one of the group felt the need to climb Huayna Picchu, the monster that you see in all the pictures. On a rather solomn note however, once the city had been cleared of the trees that hid it in 1915, it started to "slide" from the top of the moutain. Some scientists believe that in 10-15 years it may not be there anymore.

From the trail above Machu Picchu

From the Watchmans house

We made it

After that we went down to the town Aguas Calientes nearby where we decided to stay the night to relax. Aguas Calientes is known for its natural hot springs. We gave those a go the following morning - they were very murky and one had the feeling that one was sitting in 10 day old bath water. Still, it seemed to do the trick and most of my aches and pains settled down. Dylan however has a cold now and that place is the most likely suspect. We are staying at the same hostal as one of the Swedish girls and she now has a stomach bug...hmmm. Then it was the train back to Cusco last night and now we´re awaiting our clean clothes (I can´t wait!). All in all, it was a fabulous trip. Today we´ll be thinking about what to do next but for today, it won´t be much. Kat