UN-BOLIVIA-BLE...

DEC 27 - JAN 6

Whilst we could easily have spent more time in Cusco, the girls and I realised that we can't sustain the party lifestyle like we used to - and to put it mildly - further indulgences in red wine and late nights was threatening to send us both to an early grave.

But more importantly, it was time to bring some culture back to our journey.

The vast expanse that is Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the word, covers 8,200 sqm between Peru and Bolivia. We stay the night in Puno, a port city on the shores of Titicaca, where the native islands are most easily accesible.

Despite the fact that we'd been warned about the gross commercialism on the floating island tours, it's still a disappointing experience. The construction of the reed islands themselves is certainly impressive, but the postcard stands and rows of trickets are about as native as a pair of havianas.

And so it was, that after a few days of being sensible, quaffing penicillon (thank you liberal pharmacists) we steered ourselves down the (very bumpy) path to La Paz. After many friends and fellow travellers recounting tales of debauchery in the fiesty Bolivian capital, we were looking forward to spending NYE there.

First impressions... dirty, pretty dodgy, densely populated and with a wicked underground once the sun goes down!

Accomodation was at another of the Loki Hostel family, but we weren't as rapt with the La Paz version. Seemingly the tempation for a lot of travellers is to work the bar at these places in exchange for free accomodation and a discounted bar tab. Which invariably becomes greater the longer you stay... and the old '1 for you, 2 for me' gets a hiding from the bar staff. Kim and I contemplated working somewhere we really loved initially (and sure another month in Cusco would have been amazing) but from what we have seen it's a trap that sees you put most of your cash back over the bar, party all night and rarely see daylight.

Of course we did give the nightlife a workout a few times!! Particularly over New Years, when with a great crew of people and plenty of random punters... we partied the night away in style.

Once in La Paz it was time to get locked up. SAN PEDRO PRISON is located in the heart of the city and rose to international notoriety following the release of the novel 'Marching Powder' a few years ago. Written by an Aussie lad, Rusty Young, the book exposed the extremely corrupt and highly unusual practices inside San Pedro, where amongst other things; no police actually enter the prison walls, coke factories boom late at night, inmates must purchase their real estate as an investment property and most interestingly the wives, children, family and friends of inmates as well as peddlers, pushers and scores of tourists are permitted in and out of the prison at their leisure.

Marching Powder is quite a remarkable read, and Kim and I had had a visit to San Pedro on our hit list for months. After some debate as to what attire might be appropriate, we set off to San Pedro Square to as instructed 'just wait for the guy to approach you'.

Sure enough, five nervous looking gringos standing in the sunshine near the entry gates was sign enough, and resident tour guru Kenny appeared by our side. We shot each other a series of doubtful glances and were soon herded past the Policia and through the gates. At this point I have to confess I held onto my breath for the next five minutes.

Our friendly, dramatic and somewhat paranoid guide Oskar (a prisoner) gave us brief instructions (something along the lines of 'whatever you do don't wander off'') and we headed off to our first stop, the gym. (I did wonder why we were going to the one place likely to have plenty of potential weapons in it... but thought better than to ask).

Over the course of two hours we explored San Pedro from top to bottom. Through the different sections, each with their own colours, wardens, tiendas (shops) and even the odd hairdresser. There were plenty of kids running around and we had come prepared with lollies... although rumour has it the children are all suffering from dental issues due to all the candy brought in by tourists.

 We had also brought cigarettes which were sporadically offered to our 'security guards' (also prisoners), who were three gruff looking hombres who were in San Pedro for a variety of offences including murder, as it turned out. Upon hearing this I was slightly disturbed, but hey, Enrique did seem quite remorseful...

Oskar entertained us with many stories during the tour (most highly elaborate, well-constructed fables I'm sure), including his arrest for drug possession and his grand plans for producing Marching Powder the movie.

However when explaining why prisoners occasionally die inside San Pedro, Oskar left me with one particular nugget which stuck with me. Sometimes people kill, but it's just a mistake. It's just a moment".

And so ended one of the strangest tours I have ever experienced!

THE PATH OF THE INCAS (EXTREME TREKKING TAKE #2)

DEC 17 - 20

As a consequence of having such a ball in Cusco, our preparation to trek the Inca Trail was less than ideal. But having booked and paid for the journey back in August, our fate was locked and loaded.

Covering 40km, over three nights and four days, the hike to the ancient lost city of Macchu Picchu is made by around 25,000 tourists each year. The Inca city is routinely closed for maintainence in February and rumours abound that the Government will soon drastically reduce the number of visitor permits annually. Essentially the track winds its way up down and around the maountains, snaking over three high passes, taking in cliff hugging ruins and vistas of snowy peaks.

Day 1 and we set off early for Kilometre 82 and the beginning of the trail, having met the 14 people who would become our Inca family over the next few days. We are blessed with a fantastic and diverse group comprising four very sound lads from Melbourne, a couple also from Melbourne, another pair from Holland, Colorado and a quirky father-son from Switzerland. Decked out in our shiny new trekking gear and walking sticks, we smiled for the obligatory family photo and set off on our merry way. Extreme trekking... here we go again...

Over 5 hours, there were several inclines which got the heart pumping and I did start to wonder what we'd gotten ourselves into. But in hindsight day 1 was a breeze... or as our trusty guide Bruno more aptly put it, "a piece of cookie".

I won't go into a blow by step by step description of the second and most challenging day, as every minute is seared onto my memory and not likely to fade in a hurry. Suffice to say that the ascent to the suitably titled 'Dead Womans Pass' at 4200m up rocky steps each half a metre high, in the driving rain and wind, was a challenge like nothing I'd ever experienced. But what a feeling reaching the summit! I don't know that there are too many times in my life when I've been required to really push myself physically - so it is a shock to the system. But so incredibly worth it.

 The average time on day two is generally four hours up and two hours of knee-jarring descent to camp. I clocked in at just over four hours in total and was pretty pleased with the effort. Despite the fact that once the pass was in view I felt like I was walking the same step over and over... but the satisfaction at the end was worth it.
The view from camp at Paqaymayu (3500m) speaks for itself (picture above) and we spent the rest of the afternoon admiring the view and teaching our new mates popular card games like Shithead. Especially during everyones favourite time of the day 'Happy Hour' (popcorn and cookies) and dinner time when we ate like kings on everything from schnitzel to stirfries.


All the bits and pieces for which (inlcuding tents, chairs and gas bottles) were carried each day by our team of porters, who all stand no taller than I, and carry an average haul of 18kg. The porters wear little more than sandals and overtake backpackers gasping for air at 100 miles an hour, breaking little more than a sweat.

Day three was the most picturesque and whilst we hiked a full seven hours, the 'Peruvian flats' (short bursts of up and down the whole way) were much easier to negotiate. Walking through several Inca tunnels and the stunning cloud forrest on this day was just unforgettable. I was in particularly good spirits as I managed to keep up with the strapping Melbourne lads all day.

The tempo of the group lifted considerably as we zig-zagged our way down to camp at Winay Wayna, where there would be hot showers and cold beers available. We settled on the latter as we all felt that as hardcore trekkers dedicated to the experience, showering would be cheating.

A 4.30am wakeup call and two final hours of trekking around the side of a cliff - still in the rain - brought us to Intipunku or the 'Sun Gate' and our first glimpse of magnificent Macchu Picchu. Whilst it was only a glimpse between patches of fog, it was simply incredible and a sense of elation took over that quickly diminished the aches and pains. On reflection, this was a real watershed moment in my life. I was somewhat overwhelmed by not only the magnificant structure unfolding before me, but with a sense of real accomplishment. That I had just experienced something very special.

The rain had really set in by the time our tour of the ancient fortress began, and it was a shame but we struggled to stay motivated - and dry. But the structures were still incredibly impressive and are quite majestic the way the sit nestled on the Andean slopes. The Inca's were quite the industrious mob! Although it's hard to imagine how such a remote place was once the hub of a thriving empire.

We made our way back down the mountain and to the gateway town of Aguas Calientes, where pizza and coffee was our reward. Pats on backs all around... we just trekked the Inca Trail!!

PERU

DEC 10 - 26

I will skip over our three days in Lima as they were relatively uneventful, and get straight to our arrival in Cusco.

At 3300m above sea level Cusco is our first real experiecne at high altitude and it's quite bizarre when the plane only seems to descend for about 5 minutes. For the next few days we report a range of symptoms and ailments including tingling feet and hands, headaches, shortness of breath and severe hangovers... all of which are attributed to the altitude. Coca tea became our favourite beverage though and we soon felt fine.

I am instantly in love with Cusco. Here I will let some pictures tell the story, but I found Cusco to be one of the most charming cities I have visited. Clean and compact with quaint cobblestoned streets, tree lined plazas and scattered with brightly dressed indigenous people. I would love to spend a few months here.

We were extremely comfortable and enjoyed the vibe at the Loki Hostel. And also very excited to spend some time with our old Vietnam buddies Phil and Harry, who have taken up residence as the Loki's star barmen.

Christmas passed by in a blur of roast dinner and red wine... seedy nightclubs and late clubs. Such a beautiful city, great friends... a good time was had by all.

A highlight was on Christmas Eve when local disadvantaged and orphaned children came to the hostel to receive presents from Santa (... a swearing smelly, extremely hungover barman who shall remain nameless).

The kids were adorable and so excited when their name was called out. They were also very cuddly when bribed with lollies... except for the terrible twosome who ignored the rain and wrestled non-stop on the grass... before proceeding to drop their daks and pee all over each other!
(I think the undisputed winner was the little fella in the maroon jumper who managed to kick out his opponents leg out without falling over!!

LOST... AND LOVING IT

A few days later, and in relatively good health, we departed for Parque Tayrona, Colombia´s national park which is located at the northern most tip of the continent.

With the waves deemed to big to travel by boat (shame, but I was impressed with with the this rare display of OH&S smarts by the locals) we took a taxi and were unceremoniously dumped at Tayrona´s entry gates and told to ´follow the track' to the beach. Clad in thongs, bikinis and shorts we set off on what became our second extreme trekking experience, taking us through muddy trails, climbing rock faces and dodging ants the size of small children.

Three hours later after trudging across several deserted beaches straight from the 'Lost' set (Jack, where were you??) we arrived to Cabo San Juan and checked in. I use the term loosely, as our accomodation consisted of hammocks under an open-air gazebo, strategically placed out on the rocks. By far and away the coolest place I have ever slept though...






On day two, as Kim and I lay oiled up and content on the beach, a woman approach carrying a large container selling chocolate cake. Don´t mind if we do... how cool is this place! At this point, thinking the day couldn't get much better, two very handsome Argentinian men came and set next to us. We launched into animated Spanglish conversation, and despite not really knowing (or caring) what they said, we batted our eyelids happily for the rest of the afternoon! We were particularly enamored when one of the hotties revealed that they were recently graduated doctors - paediatricians in fact!! George Clooney had nothing on these guys.

What more can I say except that this truly was a cracking day, with Kim and I having to talk each other out of misadventure several times - both being keen to sustain any form of injury that might require some close medical attention...

Pics later.... the pool and bloody mary´s are calling. Kate xo