This has been the longest stretch of time I have gone without a blog since I’ve been away, so it’s gonna be another long one! It’s been a full on 6 weeks that have flown by, which have involved a mixture of visiting ruins (after ruins, after ruins), Spanish colonial towns, chilling on the beach, bird spotting, adventure sports, trekking, jungles, shopping, and more!

La Paz is a distant memory now, but before I left I did one more thing… mountain biking down the world’s most dangerous road. Given I’m lame at most “extreme” sports I take part in, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. Chosing one of the better companies in town helped, their record of only one death to date is probably the best.

The ride started off at 4,800m, and began with a sip of this horrendous Bolivian alcohol, with some given to “pachamama” (mother earth to the indigenous Andean folk) for good measure. And descended to 1200m (I think). And was 60km in total. The first 20km was supposedly easy – on full tarmac, and not the actual “road of death”. The only problem was that it went through rain clouds, and you couldn’t see a thing! It was also fucking freezing and naturally I was soaked once I came through the clouds. The views were incredible though – lush green mountains with peaks immersed in clouds. Then came the road, an uneven gravel track that at times was 2m wide max. Up until 2004 this was the only road that linked La Paz with Coroico, with many of the accidents happening as vehicles tried to get past each other from both directions. However, at the time I did the ride, the new road was closed due to roadworks, meaning that as well as trying to avoid the 600m drops immediately to your left, there was also a load of traffic to tackle! Because traffic coming up the road gets priority, we were asked to cycle on the left of the road (ie with a massive fucking drop right next to you). There was no time to take in the beautiful views because you were too busy concentrating on (1) cycling on the most even, less stony part of the left hand side of the road, and (2) not falling 600m to your death. However, the ride was relatively tame compared to the journey back! Going up the road in a bus, with a probably drunk Bolivian driver who usually takes the safe new road. Sleeping seemed the best option, however waking up to see the middle part of the bus (where I was) hanging over the edge wasn’t much fun.

So, I’ve spent the majority of the last 6 weeks “overlanding” with 20 other people in the back of a truck. It’s kind of made travelling easy, but it’s a great way to meet (and more importantly get to know) people, as well as see as much of each country as possible (I realise the irony after my many rants about tickbox travellers – but I like to think I’m a bit more honest with how “amazing” everything is!). There’s no way I’d have seen or done as much as I have if I was travelling independantly. I’ve met some really sound people as well, from all over the place – Uk, Ireland, Holland, Denmark, Hungary, Ecuador, Brazil, Australia, New Zealand etc.

One thing that’s been picked up on by the others, that’s been pointed out before, is my extremely floppy head (that’s not a euphemism, that’s my actual head) when sleeping on transport. It’s like gravity disappears when my eyes shut, and I become a human nodding dog. If I’m in an aisle seat, I end up regularly head butting the person next to me, and if I’m by the window I end up bruising my head by smacking it on the glass. On one journey I had the window open, and nearly lost my head together many times (apparently, I was asleep).

My final destination in Bolivia was Copacabana (the beach in Rio de Janeiro was named after it). A really beautiful and tiny town on Laga Titicaca, the worlds highest lake (which also happens to be massive, stretching a long way into Peru). The highlight here was sitting on top of a hill watching the sunset, it kind of reminded me of Lake Como in Italy (not that I’ve ever been there). The lowlight was the worst meal I’ve ever had in a restaurant. A cuppa soup, followed by half a cows foot, with banana and engine oil for desert. Served at the pace of a South American snail (they’re slower than European snails, I’m sure). This kind of set the benchmark for many things in South America. Lets just say they’re not renowned for their speed, or quality, or just generally giving a shit. Still, it’s all part of the experience, and I’m not moaning unlike many others. I’ll rant about that later though.

A day trip to Isla de Sol also helped set me up for the next few weeks. Trekking up mountains, as well as visiting ruins. I’ve never been one for ancient history, I find it mildly interesting but hard to empathise with given how long ago it happens, and I find ruins or old things pretty underwhelming (check the blog with Angkor Wat in for example). I especially find it funny when people cream themselves over some life defining moment at seeing a few ancient rocks. I mean, c’mon! Wandering through a market, taking in locals everyday lives is far more interesting. Anyway, on Isla de Sol, we found ourselves looking at a rock that apparently resembles a puma, sacred to the Inca people. I think I look more like a puma than that thing. Still, tourists there were peering over their Lonely Planets gushing at how amazing it was. Isla Del Sol itself was beautiful, and lived up to it’s name as I came off the island with a nose that resembled Peter Schmeichel’s in his heyday (or Rudolf for those that don’t know Peter). And the trekking got me really enthusiastic for the Inca Trail.

And that was the end of my time in Bolivia. The poorest of all the South American countries I’m visiting on this trip, and therefor probably the most interesting. It seems like quite a confused country that doesn’t really know how to do things properly, but that just makes it more charming! On arriving in Peru, it was instantly obvious that they’ve got tourism sorted and are far more refined with it, which for me made it harder to really get to know the country like Bolivia. Tourism towns or cities generally seem quite fake, as everything is aimed at the traveller and therefor not very genuinally local. Large cities are exceptions as it’s easy to get away from the tourist trap. Which is why China appealed so much, and why I think cities like Rio and Buenos Aires will be awesome.

After a brief visit to a floating island on Laga Titicaca near Puno, that for reasons mentioned above seemed anything but genuine (a stark contrast to the ones I visited in Cambodia), we arrived in Cusco – “South America’s biggest party town”. So far it’s hard to argue againt that claim. I did fuck all sightseeing, instead all night drinking sessions followed by all day drinking sessions happened. From what I could tell, it’s a city that’s very similar to Krakow in Poland, architecturally and partyingly (new word?). A very attractive Spanish colonial town, that I took no photos of. Regular offers of “sniff”, “puff” and “powder” were sure signs that tourists were in town! As was the fact that Cusco was the centre of the Inca empire, meaning all treks to Machu Picchu and the like start from there. It had the refined touristness (another new word?) that again made it hard to really get to know the place. Plus I was always drunk.

In Cusco, I also got my first dose of the Peruvian vomits/shits. A regular occurence amongst travellers in this part of South America due to their complete lack of hygiene and dodgy water. Some may say this was alcohol induced, but I’ve gad enough hangovers in my time to know it wasn’t!

Another bizarre parallell to Krakow happened when I was in Cusco. I was once sitting in Krakow old town square enjoying a meal in the sun, when my fork slipped. As I tried to catch it, it looked like I purposely catapulted a chunk of food onto the white shirt of an attractive local behind me, who was dining with her big bastard boyfriend. Everyone looked at me in horror as I turned bright red with embarassement, whilst he looked at me with an “I’m going to kill you” stare. This incident wasn’t quite so extreme, but I did manage to spray my McDonalds coke onto some girl whilst she was eating with her boyfriend. His stare brought back some memories.

And to the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu. The holy grail of every ancient ruin lover in South America. Over the rainy months, Peru had massive problems with flooding that really hit the tourism industry, as most treks and Machu Picchu were closed. I was lucky (or not so lucky given the cost) as they opened the day before I arrived. I chose to do the “Andean Community Trek” rather than the classic Inca Trail as I didn’t fancy walking for 4 days with 500 or so other tourists. It turned out to be a good decision. I really loved the trek, walking through spectacular and untouched scenery for 4 days, with no other person in sight other than local communities that we camped with. Along with the guides, we had a team of cooks (awesome food) and porters, who with help from a load of llamas and donkeys carried our bags, tents and the cooking equipment the whole way! In my last blog I wrongly accused llamas of being stupid, I take that back. They’re immense animals, who took on proper rock climbing with bags on their backs, something they’ve been doing for centuries with the local communities. Not only did they do that, but they did it in half the amount of time we took! The first day of the treck involved us playing football with the locals at 3700m up, it was fucking knackering. I had 7 year old kids running rings around me! We were also supposed to give new equipment to the kids at a local school, but the little bastards didn’t turn up on time (for their first day back at school!), which was disappointing. As one of the faster members of the group, I was taken on more obscure routes through the mountains, and given the direct route was hardly a path, it made the trek even more fun. Infact the trek was by far the highlight over Machu Picchu.

The only downside to doing this trek was that it didn’t take you all the way to the “wonderful” Machu Picchu. The classic Inca trail takes you all the way to the sun gate, which would look spectacular if the whole mountain wasn’t engulfed in cloud at sun rise! I wasn’t too disappointed to miss this experience.

So we ended up in a town called Olayantambo, where there were some more ruins awaiting us, to get even more excited about Machu Picchu. It was a weird tourism town, with nothing much to do. A couple of us went into a “local” bar, where an entrepreneurial bastard local thought he’d take over from the barmaid, overcharge us for our beer, and then charge us for the “priviledge” of listening to music, so he and his mate could get an extra beer. I’d have bought him one if he’d have asked. Still, this was my first introduction to Sonia Morales, Peru’s most famous singer, I guess the equivalent to Sheryl Cole, although she looks more like a Thai ladyboy to me. YouTube her, her music is horrendous! But she’s so popular she even has beer named after her. Speaking of beer, I’m really fed up with crappy lager, the only decent one I’ve had on my whole trip is Beer Laos so far. Cusquena is Peru is possibly the worst yet, although that may just be because I’ve drunk too much to this point.

Back to Machu Picchu, to get there we had to get the most expensive train ever, which upon arrival we were told by an American female voice that “the great moment has arrived”. Bollocks! We arrived in a crappy tourist town called Aguas Calliente (hot waters), with still a 30 minute coach journey to go, and even when we did get there I would hardly call it “great”. You may have sensed my sarcasm towards Machu Picchu, I mean the idea behind it and what the Incas did so many years ago is impressive, but life defining moment it certainly ain’t. I struggle to gain any sort of empathy towards a few neatly arranged rocks from so many years ago, but it’s amazing how many tourists there were gushing about how life will never be the same again now they’ve visited Mach Picchu. One thing that made it better than I’d thought was that due to the floods, only a quarter (I think) of the usual amount of people were allowed in.

About a month ago I read ‘Smile when you’re lying – confessions of a travel writer’ by Chuck Thompson. It’s not a particularly amazing book, but I like his sarcastic approach to the travel industry, which I fully agree with. Too many people cream themselves at every possible moment, guidebooks being the worst. I’ve learnt to never trust a guidebook, they spout too much shit just to gain a few favours with restaurants, hotels etc, and are also far too paranoid about dangers, and are rarely updated properly. In the book, Thompson quotes Paul Theroux (my favourite cynical travel writer by far, it’s almost endurance travel and he’s not afraid to say how shit something is – “the most unhappy man to ever open a suitcase”) – “one of the unavoidable truths about travel is that it often isn’t fun” -I couldn’t agree more, and to be honest the fact that a lot of it isn’t fun, makes it even better. The stories of long coach journeys, people trying to screw you over or scary gangsters in a tiny Chinese bar make for the best. Just simply being immersed in another culture is enough for me. Another quote that he pointed out, that absolutely suits Machu Picchu, is from Samuel Johnson about the Giants Causeway – “worth seeing, yes: but not worth going to see” – couldn’t have put it better!

One of my favourite experiences in Peru was a night spent in Raqchi, a small settlement where the locals speak Quechua as their first language (and by yet more ruins). I stayed in the home of a local family (with Liam and Jezza from the trip), which proved to be great practice for my Spanish as we were all learning (including the family)! All the others from the trip stayed in different homes around the settlement, and in the evening everyone converged to our home for the evening festivities. Wearing traditional local dress! We took part in a ceremony which involved coca leaves and blessing pachamama, as well as the mountains, one-by-one. Followed by a hug from every single person there (about 50 I’d say) and then traditional dancing with the locals. All very bizarre, but great fun. I also played babysitter to the family’s young son, Omar, who was a little legend! He took a particular shining to my camera, photographing everything in sight. Particularly my “funny round eyes”.

Anyway, if I carry on at this rate it’ll be the worlds longest blog – so I’m not gonna go in chronological order, but group things together instead.

So, bird spotting. Something I never thought I’d do, but I’ve had 2 experiences of it in Peru! Firstly at Colca Canyon – the worlds deepest canyon. It’s famous for it’s Condors, the worlds largest birds after ostriches ( I think?). And I can confirm they’re fucking humungous, wings spanning to 3m. It was pretty cool as they flew straight towards you in large groups, almost as of they were posing for the hordes of tourists. But the tourists were actually more impressive, cheering each bird as it flew across the look out point. The elderly tick box tourism ones were the funniest, wowing at each one as they snapped away with their 300m long £3 million sports cameras. One guy looked like he was gearing up for a shift at the world cup final. Until I realised he was snapping away in auto mode, why the fuck would you need a camera like that if you don’t even know how to use the bloody thing?!

The other dose of bird spotting was on a boat trip around the Ballestos Islands – “the poor mans Galapogas”. It really stunk! The guano (bird shit) is collected every few years and sold for fertiliser – I’m guessing it’s been a while since they last collected it. It was cool though, I saw lots of Boobies, they were everywhere, lots of Peruvian Boobies. As well as Penguins, and a load of other birds. And seals and sea lions. I was disappointed to see no sea lions being attacked (and eaten) by killer whales, which is apparently a common occurence.

Arequipa was another postcard perfect Spanish colonial town, overly touristy, and where my experience was much the same as Cusco. The Peruvian vomits came back! I wasn’t too disappointed to miss the town though. I only missed a monastry and a museum that I won’t lose any sleep over! It makes me laugh when people have to see absolutely everything that’s on offer, everywhere. A church is a church, they’re all over the place. You’ll get to know a place far better by chilling in a cafe watching peoples everyday lives, rather than anxiously trying to see every ancient coin in a museum. I swear some people get too stressed over it, just chill, relax (or “chillax” as my Swiss friend from Uyuni would say), take in the culture around you, and enjoy yourself! And anyhow Arequipa seemed like one of those towns so geared at tourists that it’s hard to get to know it, unlike, say La Paz, where the locals everyday life isn’t just about tourism, so it feels a bit mote real and you can get to know them better.

Whilst I’m ranting about travellers again, I’ll go for one more. Food! If you order a bowl of pasta in Peru, that costs the equivalent of £1.20, it ain’t gonna be anything special. You can’t expect the quality of some plaza in Rome, when in South America. They’re pretty slack about most things, so of course food will be one. Anyway, it’s all part of travelling and experiencing how things are done in other cultures.

Speaking of food, one thing I loved about Peru was one of it’s national dishes – Ceviche. I could eat that stuff all day. Fresh raw fish, marinated in lemon/lime juice (the acid slightly cooks it), served with sweet potato, raw red onions and corn (the sweet corn here is massive, and really quite tasty). Beautiful. The fish in Peru is really nice and fresh. Although I probably got the shits from it!

One food that definitely made me feel a bit rough was another Peruvian national dish, guinea pig. It comes out on a plate looking like a baked rat, and is a nightmare to eat due to all the bones, and the fact that there is hardly any meat on it. I was encouraged to savour it over a few hours, slowly eating the ears, claws and head. Instead I rushed it, the little rodent made me feel sick! Earlier on in the day we visited a ladies house who breeds guinea pigs, they were literally everywhere. At one point she picked one, started strangling it and attempting to break it’s neck. The little fella was squealing away, but was soon drowned out by the sound of several grown men squealing away and hiding in the corner! Before it died, she let it run off.

Another thing I did a lot of in Peru was camping by the beach. I’ve never been a beach person, I get bored too easily. However, it was really nice to chill out after doing lots of energetic stuff! The beaches here aren’t great compared to Asia, and they have some of the meanest waves you’ll ever see, but I particularly enjoyed the remote beaches. In my last blog I ranted about Loki hostels, and how I’d never stay in one again. Well, I lied. I stayed in one in Mancora, which to be fair was a lot more chilled out than in La Paz, but still full of wankers. Mancora itself I really didn’t like, it might as well be called Magaluf, and the beaches weren’t even that nice. It’s only really there for people to party or surf in. I don’t surf, but I did party! The partying was made all the more entertaining by a mate smashing his face in when giving someone a piggy back down some stairs! When in Puerta Inca we played football againt the locals, well actually I was with the locals, and we destroyed the gringos. And then in the next game I was with the gringos and we destroyed the locals. Make of that what you will! Probably the most entertaining moment was when camping on a secluded beach called Punta Sol, where the biggest crabs I’ve ever seen kept on trying to sneak their way into our tent to sleep with us!

In one beach town, Huanchacco near Trujilla, I actually found some ruins that mildly interested me! Huaca del Sol (temple of the sun) and Huaca de la Luna (temple of the moon), are brilliantly preserved Moche ruins. The Incas were pretty lane compared to these guys. The temples are really vibrantly coloured, which is amazing considering they’re pre Inca. The Incas are completely overrated in my opinion, but it’s pretty much what the whole Peruvian tourist industry is based on. They’re completely patriotic people, every tour guide I had bigged their particular ruin, canyon or bird as the best thing ever. Often comparing them to other countries or continents prett unecessarily. Everywhere you look there’s a reference to the Incas, even their national fizzy drink is called Inca Kola!

Other than Bolivia, South America hasn’t been as cheap as I’d expected (hoped!). It’s still not particularly expensive, but that’s one thing Asia has the upper hand on. I mentioned Machu Picchu was way overly priced, and another complete waste of money was the Nascar Lines – a series of drawings in the ground (some are a couple of hundred metres in length) that the Nascar people (pre Inca I think) drew for God in the hope that he’d give them rain. Funnily enough this didn’t work – this part of Peru is pretty much all desert and they get 2 hours of rain a year! Infact a week before I was there, there were riots over the drought which led to 20 deaths! To see the lines you take a $70, 30 minute flight in the tiniest scariest tin can with wings you’ll ever see! It really wasn’t worth the money, the postcards are clearly photoshopped to make the drawings stand out, and you may as well just look at them. It’s by far the safer option as well, especially given there was a recent crash. The orange pilot didn’t seem all that confident is his flying ability either, and it was all so rushed through by the wanker salesman that you didn’t even have a moment to take it in. Another very bizarre Nascar thing I saw was an old cemetry with mummified bodies! Apparently grave robbers have stolen everything of value in the graves, so you’re just left with these pretty funny looking mummified men, women, kids or parrots!

The capital, Lima, is a right shithole. Everyone I know who’s been there before has told me, and I can confirm it’s a dump! There’s also nothing to do! Even the bars all seemed to be closed. That said, I quite liked it. It’s a likeable shithole. Miraflores was a nice area, and fun chilling out in. And going bowling. When in Lima, bowl, apparently. I’m definitely a big city guy, that’s why I loved China so much. They’re easier to lose yourself in, and get away from the tourist trap, and get to know the local culture. However, Lima isn’t one that I’ll be recommending to people. Unlike Quito, which I’ll talk about in a bit. I’ve been really slack with photographs in South America as well, I think it’s because I’ve had less time to myself. I didn’t take a single photo in Lima.

I’ve definitely preferred doing the active things in Peru, rather than the towns. And one that I loved was in Huaccachina, a tiny town situated on an oasis (that appears on a 50 soles note), surrounded by miles and miles of massive sand dunes. Firstly we went dune buggying, which was unbelievable fun. It’s like being on a rollercoaster at times, especially when the buggy is going down dunes vertically. Then in the dunes we went sandboarding. Which was fun except for the fact that I’m shit at it. It ended with a punch party in a really secluded beach with seals around. Where every couple there appeared to have fights and break up! Very bizarre.

And that was Peru, a country I had a great time in, yet struggled to really get to know it. If there was a bit of modern history to empathise with then perhaps it would have been different. But it’s such a tourism focused country that none of it seems very genuine, which was a shame. I was happy to get to Ecuador, a country I really love. Instantly I knew I was going to enjoy it. The scenery is so diverse, it has beach, rainforest, cloud forest, mountains, a whole host of animals, fruit, and some great cities. The people also seem a lot mote genuine as the emphasis isn’t so much on tourism than Peru.

First stop was Cuenca on the South. By far the wealthiest part of the country. It’s also a lot whiter, particularly in comparison to Peru, and the rest of Ecuador. Which isn’t such a great thing as I’ll explain in a minute. Some of the houses on the outskirts of the city could have been in Beverly Hills!

Cuenca is anotger very attractive Spanish colonial town. It’s also the home of Panama hats! Did you know that they aren’t made in Panama, but Ecuador? No, neither did I. They’re called Panama hats because originally they were exported down the Panama canal, and the workers there wore them. Which seems stupid to me, if you want to promote one of your countries exports, why not name it after your own country? I went on a tour of a Panama hat factory adamant I wouldn’t get one so I wouldn’t look like one of those tossers you see around Camden or Shoreditch wearing trilbies. But I bought one, and now I look like a tosser. I doubt I’ll be wearing it back home though.

The highlight of Cuenca though was going to my second South American football match. It was very different to the first! It was also very insightful. Deportivo Cuenca v Barcelona (unfortunately not the real ones from Catalunya, but a fake version from Guayaquil, with the same badge but much shitter). Barca are currently top, and Cuenca 4th. The atmosphere was electric, it was a sold out night game, which meant we had to get tickets from a tout outside, so paid way over the odds. But we certainly got our moneys worth! Firstly there was a reserve game before between the 2 teams, then there was bikini clad women promoting the beer company that sponsors both teams, and this all before the game which was actually pretty entertaining. Both sets of fans were setting off fireworks (and stranger Chinese candles), who were really mixed together in most stands, including the one I was in. I also picked up a few new Spanish phrases from the many chants as the fans sung about “sons of bitches” and mothers being “whores”. There was a real dark side though, everytime a black Barca player had the ball, all the Cuenca fans (including those around me) made a series of monkey noises, despite their own team being 50% black. The racism along with the fenced in enclosures made it seem like watching a game in 80s England. It was a highly entertaining end-to-end game though. Cuenca took the lead in the first half with a spectacular lob over the goalie that I missed, after a series of 5 yellow cards in 5 minutes. Then at the start of the second half, Barca’s big black centre half had to wait a couple of minutes to take a free kick right by us. The whole tine he was subjected to monkey chants. Clearly upset and wound up, 2 minutes later and again infront of us, he booted one of the Cuenca players who was lying on the ground and got sent off. I’m not sure if it’s seen as just a way of wi ding up the opposition rather than racism (there were black people in the crowd too) – if so it worked! Then one of the Cuenca players rounded the keeper and scored 5 seconds after being flagged for offside, and got his second yellow and a red. Barca equalised with a great solo effort and long range finish and it ended 1-1. The game was also notable for the fact that if large amounts of people chant “Cuenca” repeatedly, it sounds very much like everyone chanting “wanker”.

One of my favourite places in Ecuador was when we camped in an eco hostel type place situated in a cloud forest, near Rio Verde, which was near the town of Banos (Spanish for toilets). It was a beautiful setting, with one of the top ten waterfalls in the world near by, and one of the best hostels I’ve ever stayed in the weather was pretty schitzo as well, turning from sunshine to rain every 15 minutes. It was also the location for a several outdoor activities. First up, I went canyoning, which involved abseiling down waterfalls and generally getting very wet whilst making your way down a river wearing a wet suit, life jacket, helmet, and pair of converse. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, but preferred white water rafting more! The rapids on the river we went on are classed 5+, which is the highest available commercially. It was awesome fun, as one of the “men” in our boat I was on the front, which made it difficult to understand the instructions of our captain at the back. After 2 minutes, and before we even hit any rapids I nearly fell in. But you really get a buzz when you going straight through them, water splashing all over you, and in my case, swallowing half the river. I found myself thrown across the boat several times, and over the edge being kept in by my feet clinging on, but our boat never flipped over despite our best efforts. I saw a couple flip over in heavy rapids, and whilst it looked pretty scary, especially with rocks everywhere, I kinda wished ours had!

Next up was the jungle! And probably what I’d been looking forward to the most in this part of South America. I’ve spoken to people who went into the Amazon at different parts – it sounds particularly good in Rurrenbaque in Bolivia – which got me even more excited, and I wasn’t disappointed. I don’t think I went to it in the best location possible, but still got to see and do everything I hoped for. The lodge we stayed in was at a higher altitude to the majority of the jungle, which left a stunning view that seemed to be different everytime I saw it. And it meant less of those bastard malaria carrying mosquitoes. Although it didn’t mean less of the other insects – I was particularly shocked to see a fucking massive hairy tarantula walking on the rack with everyone’s room keys, a scorpion just chilling out on the stairs, and a 15cm long cockroach having a snooze in my room.

The first day in the jungle we trekked through an area at higher altitude, climbing through bat filled caves, and learning about the different trees and plants (which is pretty boring). It was entertaining though for the bat that went straight for my forehead, and then his mate who got tangled up in my camera strap. There was also a bizarre but evil looking yellow spider. The next day started with a boat trip that brought back memories of that mid nineties classic film, ‘Anaconda’, as I was expecting a 3 mile long, 30m wide snake to jump out of the water and attack me. Instead we saw a tiny little snake on a rock. Speaking of Anacondas, the animal sanctuary had a pretty massive one (not as big as the one in the film though), and it was only a baby. It came out to see us, slowly slithering along the edge, when it fell back in the water causing everyone watching to jump back in comedy fashion. The sanctuary was cool, even if the animals weren’t in the “wild”. The more dangerous ones were in cages, and the others like the monkeys and this bizarre bird thing that followed us around everywhere were allowed to roam free. That afternoon we went tubing down the river, which was fun, minus the boozing/drug intake that happens in Laos. The final day was a big trek through a denser part of the jungle which was awesome – as well as the customary climbing up waterfalls with ropes, and jumping into water fully dressed, we got to see animals in their natural environment. A whole host of insects, as well as 2 snakes (one looked a right evil fucker), and monkeys (one of which had a tiny head and massive arse). The trek was finished with a swim in a tropical lagoon at the foot of a waterfall, giving me the opportunity to get my beautiful t-shirt tan out.

I also went to Otavalo and got most of my present shopping done. Otavalo market has been dubbed “South America’s best market”, and it’s easy to see why. Stalls galore selling clothing, jewelley, hammocks, knives, hooves, wallets….and a load more. All made from Llama wool, Alpaca wool, leather etc etc. It’s a pretty vibrant place, although the rain meant that the market was covered up, so pictures look pretty lame. Otavalo was also interesting because it’s the first place I have come across where the local men wear traditional dress. In Bolivia and Peru they’re lazy bastards who wear t-shirts and fake Adidas trousers. But in Otavalo they wore long poncho’s and had their long hair in plaits.

And finally (at last) I ended up in Quito, the capital of Ecuador. A city I loved! It’s pretty edgy, gangs on every corner waiting to pounce. Infact in one weekend I knew 4 people who were mugged, 2 of them twice! I found my wn technique t avoid mugging was to run everywhere you go at night, they tend to leave you alone then. Apparently they all carry guns or knives, so if you are approached it’s best to give them all the money you have. Quito has a really vibrant nightlife, with bars and restaurants everywhere in the new town. And is set within the mountains similar to La Paz. I tok absolutely no photos there either!

And that’s that. I’m now in Paraty in Brazil, after a few days in Rio. But that’s for the next blog.

Posted on Saturday May 15th 2010 at 7:10 pm