May 2008

It was hot and humid, so hot in fact even I was sweating, lots (obviously you can imagine the state Ollie was in). The background noise was a loud and constant buzzing, so infiltrating you wondered if it was just in your head. The surroundings were dense with greenery, the mud bright red and the green rivers wide and murky. We had arrived in the rainforest.

I had been looking forward to this for some time. We boarded dugout canoes to take us 20 minutes down the Napo River to Anaconda Lodge. In the dugout canoes you felt like the water would come over the edge at any moment and the wide, fast flowing river seemed very aggressive from this vantage point. The boat ride really gave you a sense of the vastness of the rainforest. There were a few locals washing themselves or their clothes in the river, a few small houses along the banks, cows grazing near the waters edge and as far as you could see green huge trees and tropical leaves.

This would be our home for the next 3 nights within the Amazon rainforest. I know I hate anything with more than two legs, especially if it has ´spider´ in its name, but I was intrigued.

As we grounded the boat outside Anaconda Lodge we jumped off to see our new residence. We crossed a small path of leafcutter ants on the way to the lodge which had me and Ollie fascinated, the others thought we were a little weird. The lodge was a large wooden hut open to the elements on all sides, with several small wooden huts surrounding it. The smaller huts contained a bed with a mosquito net over, candles on bedside tables (no electric) basic bathroom (no hot water) and windows covered in fly netting only.

The sun was shining and it was hot so I donned my summer dress to get back on the boat to go to the local animal sanctuary on the next island. This animal sanctuary had animals of all kinds rescued from local cities or taken by customs and here they were rehabilitated then eventually released or used in breeding programs. As we got off the boat Woolly monkeys greeted us, one with a penchant for trying to pull off flip flops, or if you wasn´t wearing any, trying to slap your head –Ollie fell victim to this to my amusement. We also saw Spider Monkeys, Tamarind Monkeys, Capibaras, Cayman, Macaws and many more. Seeing the Toucans was beautiful but somewhat spoilt when Ollie was inspired to spout off for an hour with the worst ´toucan´ jokes you have ever heard (toucan play at that game). We wanted them to bite him, they didn´t. It was a great place, but if only I wasn´t an idiot; within a few seconds of getting there I realised there were huge spider’s webs everywhere and biting ants all around our feet. I ended up wrapping the dress round my legs to stop anything crawling up and within 5 minutes of getting there the heavens opened and I was left soaking wet, the dress stuck to me and my flip flops were buried under the 3 inches of mud that had been the path. I learnt the hard way, the jungle is not a place for dresses.

We headed back to the lodge, to try and get dry and sit down for some local grub. The first course had us all a little confused; Plantain soup with popcorn on the side. We were then informed that its Ecuadorian tradition to put popcorn in soup like croutons, don´t know if he was winding us up or not but it tastes pretty good. We then headed off to bed early for a good nights kip ready for the next day, or so we thought...

In bed, pitch black, the sounds of the jungle penetrating the small hut, I heard more humanly murmurings. “Someone’s ripping out my inners, I´m going to be sick” came Ollie’s pitiful cry. Trying to light the candle on the bedside table I got the (forgotten) mosquito net wrapped round my head. When I eventually found the matches by scrambling around on the floor in the dark (not thinking about what the fluffy thing was that I picked up thinking it was a match box), I looked at the bed to see Ollie clutching his stomach and looking the worst for wear. He spent the next hour in the loo. Both ends. Having been not so well myself for the last week I felt sympathy towards him, which quickly ran out when I had to fight him for the toilet. All night we battled for the use of the toilet or clutched our stomachs and moaned. I think we scared most of the animals away, or intrigued them with our animalistic cries.

We are not blaming the food that night, on closer inspection of the 'fresh natural water' we had purchased from a shop a day prior we realised it was two years out of date and had white floaters in it. No we didn´t check the sell by date before drinking it, that would take common sense.

As dawn broke we had fallen into a restless sleep and both knew today we weren´t going to be up to much. We appeared at breakfast, touched nothing and both left to fight for the loo. An hour later we forced ourselves out into the jungle on the day trip (thank you immodium!). It was still heavily raining and had been from the afternoon prior, all the paths were muddy streams and the river had risen by 2 meters overnight. We boarded the canoes and headed to a local Quechua village. A short walk through secondary forest, passing many cocoa and banana trees we arrived at the local school. It was pouring with rain but the kindergarten toddlers just ignored it and played barefoot outside in their t-shirts and shorts. The classroom was a hut, with walls 1.5m high with the rest open to the elements. It was extremely damp in there and posters on walls had long since faded and worn. The teacher was a lovely man who explained about the school, all the children from this island attend (government funded) from the age of 5 to 12. They have two classes for all children with two teachers. The government runs a vaccination programs and once a year a doctor and dentist visit the school. The children buzzed around as intrigued with us as we with them. As we entered the older children’s classroom we found the teacher was off sick and so no children were around, school is just cancelled and the kids would go to work with parents instead. Unfortunately, he said this happens often.

We then went to visit a local family. We found the mother out in her field tending to her Yucas, a principal food in this area. She had a huge machete that she was using to cut down the yucas, weed the area and replant new ones. I like to think I helped her, I dug some up and put a few stems in the ground so they could re-sprout but I got the distinct impression I hindered her operation. After collecting the yuca roots we then peeled them and took them back to her house.

Her house was again a hut construction on stilts as the whole island is prone to flooding due to the unpredictability of the Napo river. The house actually houses 3 families; it had only 3 bedrooms, one for female children, one for male children and one for all the adults. When I asked about ´parental intimate time´ the guide said they just got on with it, even if others were present!

In the centre of the hut a wooden square structure housed an open fire and onto this she put the freshly peeled yucca to boil. 10 minutes later, it was mashed then mixed with sweet jungle carrot and left to ferment for a couple of days, and guess what you were left with? That not so lovely but potent drink chicha. The yuca-based chicha tastes even more rank than the maize form, like gone-off watery yogurt with fibrous strands in it. I have no idea why they spoil something that tastes as good as yuca (like sweet potatoes) by letting it ferment for a couple of days. Actually, sharing a house with 2 other couples and 12 children, I see their point.

The guide, originally from the very village we were visiting, was explaining how Quechuan people are known to eat anything and in the vicinity it was hard to see animals now, as the populations had declined rather dramatically after firearms came into the area making hunting easier. I thought he was joking until I noticed the turtle shell and monkey skull on the kitchen shelf (gulp). There was also a baby chick in a small grocery bag hung on a hook next to the kitchen counter, I´m hoping it was because it was being hand reared.

It was still raining, we were soaked to the bone so started making our way back to the canoe through the muddy jungle paths. We came across more cocoa plants and a small caiman lurking at the edge of a large puddle. Back at the now vast river, the guide gave us the option of making a raft and floating back to the lodge. The river was fast flowing, murky, and had what resembled rapids. After my last experience with water and rafts I politely chickened out (never, ever, ever again) and left Ollie to it. Within minutes a raft had been constructed out of balsa tree trunks and rope and 3 of them were precariously sat on it making their way downstream. After an hour of floating, Ollie decided he wanted to go for a swim. The current quickly pulled him to the other side of the river, away from the boat and he travelled for 2.5km bobbing up and down in his life-vest. When the current shoved him into the side of the river and he got stuck we rescued him with the canoe and it was left to me to pull him in. Thats quite a task I assure you.

The afternoon for me was spent in bed, I still wasn´t well and Ollie went to another town to see some pottery (rubbish apparently) and some balsa wood carving (really good apparently). The guy used a machete and took only 10 minutes to carve a balsa wood parrot. If you so wished, you could buy a shaman hat made from armadillo skin and vials of dragonfly blood. Nice.

Needless to say, after the previous nights debarcle we skipped any food that day and got an early, restful night.

Feeling more like ourselves, the rain had stopped as we headed down river to the primary forest to do some jungle trekking. It was still hot, but this time I was ready for the jungle, long pants tucked in, adamant nothing was getting up my legs. We walked in total for around 4 hours, through dense valleys of primary forest and up to high viewpoints where the massive expanse of jungle was mesmerising. It was amazing and mystical but predictably we didn´t see any animals, only insects. We heard white mouthed monkeys above our head but they moved quicker than we did. My highlight was seeing the poisonous tree frogs that they make the poison darts from, really small with red backs, so cute. I managed to avoid all tarantulas, the yellow and black spider, the biting sun ants and anything else that put the heeby-geebies in me and really enjoyed it. We also learnt about the plants medicinal and other purposes, drank from a water vine, ate cinammon tree leaves and saw palm, wild garlic and vanilla growing. We walked back to the boat down a stream, in some places up to our chests in murky water, sinking to our knees in the debris that was lying on the river bed (don´t think about what it is, just leaves and stuff, keep walking, all's good...). I didn´t moan, I didn´t acknowledge any of the jumping water spiders that everyone was helpfully informing me were all around us "look, that one is bigger than my hand!" and I ignored the fact the guide pulled out the biggest freshwater crab I´ve ever seen from the same water we were walking in. Denial works for me!

The afternoon was spent learning about various traps they use for capturing animals, fishing tools and also learning the technique of the blowpipe. I would starve to death but Ollie wasn´t bad.

That evening back at the lodge the local shaman came to show us his ´medicine´. This involved one of us sat on the floor in front of him while, by candlelight, he drank offensively strong alcohol, intermittently spat it on the poor beggar in front of him, wafted a bunch of leaves to 'scare the evil spirit away' and 'sang' for 10 minutes. Cynic -me?! Mind you, I´d never repeat the above sentence to his face, he looked scary.

Oh, by the way, I have to apologise that this entry is so long and has no photos to back it up. Ollie´s SLR temporarily broke due to the humidity, along with his phone.

Baños is THE place in South America to do extreme sports. We had saved a lot of money in the past few days by scrimping and saving so we were fully prepared to have a go at everything. We had such a good time in Pucon and expected Baños to be the same.

On the way to Baños we were looking for somewhere to stop for lunch and we spotted another Dragoman truck going the other way. We stopped and chatted and looked curiously at how the others lived (they had overhead lockers on their truck! crazy!) and shared stories (have the wheels come off your truck yet? etc). There were some kids with some pigs nearby and we needed to get rid of the excess food off the truck, so we had a good time finding out the pigs favourite food (bananas and tomatoes are popular - not too keen on lettuce or red cabbage) and gave the kids a couple of sandwiches, which they took suspiciously.

The campsite was just outside Baños in a place called Rio Verde (translated as green river) in the rain forest. The owner was a Scottish guy who used to be a Dragoman driver himself and he welcomed us with a huge BBQ. He organises the trips in the area and gave us a talk on what was possible and showed us a DVD. There were a few good walks in the area with big waterfalls, but we were only interested in 1 thing - EXTREME SPORTS. The options were canyoning, bridge swinging and rafting. We signed up for all 3: Canyoning the next morning, followed by bridge swinging and then rafting the next day.

Dee and I ate the BBQ and had a couple of glasses of wine to celebrate our 4th anniversary (aahhhh) and got an early night so we wouldnt be tired the next day for canyoning. Canyoning is hiking through a canyon, or river, and involves abseiling, flying foxes and cliff jumping. We put on our wetsuits and helmets and converse trainers and headed for the canyon. The trip started with a quick dunk into the freezing cold canyon water and then we jumped backwards off a small waterfall. After a short abseil down some slippery rocks, we attached ourselves to the flying fox (a zip line) and zipped down the next waterfall. The water was cold but this was great fun. We had been told there was a small possibility that we would get the chance to do a 7m cliff jump down a waterfall if the conditions were right. They obviously werent, because we ended up abseiling down the waterfall, which was scary enough as it was. We finished the day by floating down a waterfall head first and then practiced somersaults into a natural pool. In total we were in the canyon for about 4 hours and Dee must have liked it because she hardly moaned about the cold at all. Unfortunately my waterproof camera was crap and the photos didnt come out very well.

If that wasnt enough excitement for one day, we went back to the camp for soup and then headed straight back out to do the bridge swing. Bridge swinging is like bungee jumping except the rope isnt elastic (gulp!) and it is tied to the opposite side of the bridge so that you swing under the bridge as you fall. Dee wanted to go first for some bizarre reason, but when she looked over the edge, she decided to let Gaz go first to see if he survives. Gaz wanted to do it in his pants (dont ask) and when he jumped, the look on Dees face was not one of confidence. Actually it was one of pooing herself. As she was being strapped in she was visibly shaking with nerves. I bid her one last goodbye and went down to the river to take photos for insurance purposes. Everyone helped by counting down and she jumped silently into the canyon. Dee is scared of heights so I give her full respect for jumping. When she swung back from under the bridge we heard her cry "ITS HOOORRIBLE!", but when she returned she was smiling (and still shaking), so it cant have been that bad.

A few others jumped off and then it was my turn. The realisation that there is no going back once you step off the bridge is the worst feeling. The fact that the bridge is not that high and you can see the small stream and rocks below, only makes the experience seem more real and dangerous. The guide held the harness and asked me to take my hands off the bridge and lean forwards over the 30m drop below; "WHAT?". This involves trusting the total stranger behind me to take my weight and not drop me. Once this happens you are not in control and then the adrenaline really starts pumping. People count down and theres no choice but to jump. The time goes so quickly when you fall that once you swing to the other side, you can hardly even remember jumping. You are supposed to jump outwards to avoid the crunch when the rope takes your weight but I had other, more pressing, things on my mind when I jumped and forgot to do this. I just fell off the bridge. Straight down. The rope smacked me in the face and the harness hitched up to crush my family jewels. After the first swing, the next few minutes were like torture. It felt like i was being suspended by my private parts. I screamed to the safety guy under the bridge that I was in pain and he laughed and nodded his head enthusiastically. Good job he didnt understand the abuse he received from me as I struggled to pull my weight off the harness and not lose consciousness. There was no escaping the crushing of the harness other than undoing it and falling onto the rocks below, and that was quickly becoming a viable option. The next few minutes felt like hours as the swinging slowed down and I was lowered into the hands of the idiot under the bridge. He still smiled out of his stupid face as I rocked in the foetal position obviously in pain. Fortunately, after a quick check, everything was still there and there was no blood. I managed to get my breath and hobble back up the rocky path to the rest of the group, just as Gaz had decided to do another jump, this time completely naked.

For some reason, when Gaz removed all his clothes, all the girls of the group (including Dee) had moved up to the bridge to get a good view. He jumped off backwards to cover his shame, but his hands didnt stay there for long. I had to delete a lot of photos from that jump for the sake of decency.

We went for a group meal that night to celebrate the jump. The owner of the campsite called us a taxi which actually turned out to be a large van used for transporting cattle. We sat on wobbly wooden stools in the complete darkness for the ride into town. We made sheep and cow noises to keep ourselves amused.

The next day was another early start for rafting. We had been told that this is proper grade 4/5 rafting, not like we had done before in Pucon. The safety talk at the beginning mentioned "holes", which are areas of the rapids that spin round like washing machines and make it hard to swim out of. Dee suddenly looked worried. We were never warned of this last time.

We started off quite slow but the river quickly became pretty fast. The rapids we had rafted on previously had lots of slow bits in between, which gave us time to recover. This whole river was 1 BIG rapid. There was only 4 people in our raft and our guide didnt seem to be very good at steering. After about 10 minutes we hit a huge wave and me and Dee were thrown far from the raft. Last time we did rafting, if we came off the boat, it was only a few seconds until the rapid had finished where the water slowed so we could be saved. This time we were dragged down the river for ages, through huge waves and currents. I was having fun navigating the rapids myself through the big waves, despite being dragged under occasionally. I was eventually saved by a worryingly concerned-looking safety kayaker. Dee was saved by the people in the other raft and when we re-joined, Dee had a very panicked look on her face. She didnt enjoy being dragged under the water at all, especially after being told about the dreaded "holes". She was quiet and pasty-faced as we navigated the rapids down to the cliff jump point, no laughing like last time. We got out the boat to do the jump but Dee was still shaken up, so she didnt jump off the 5m cliff into the natural pool. I jumped off twice and then we got back in the raft to the next set of rapids.

The guide told us that we werent paddling hard enough, but by arms were aching with the effort. It wasnt long before we got to a fork in the river and the other team took the harder rapids to the right of the fork, while we went left into the easier section. I was quite jealous looking over at the other group, but at the end of our easy section was a huge rock, 2 metres out of the water and after that, some tough grade 5 rapids (grade 6 is the highest). The guide stupidly steered us straight into the rock without shouting out any commands and we capsized right at the beginning of the rapids. I hit Gary in the face with my paddle and then hit the rocky river bed. I swam underwater for a bit to avoid hitting anyone else and avoid the raft above me. The bit I had swam into was behind the rock where there was a small, shallow whirlpool. I was stuck there spinning for a bit while the capsized raft bounced on down through the rapids with Gary and Vincent attached for dear life and struggling for breath. I managed to swim out of the whirlpool and immediately was dragged over 3 rocks. Luckily, I remembered the safety talk at the beginning and went down the rapids feet first, hitting my bum on the rocks as I went and avoided any cuts or bruises. I remember thinking "Ow, that was a rock... Ow, that was a rock... Ow, that was a rock" as I skimmed over them. I heard shouting from the guides further down the river and I waved to them to show that I was OK and quite enjoying the ride. They must have been looking for me because once I waved, there was a flurry of panic and pointing and the other raft paddled to try to intercept my path. They thought that they had lost me in the white water for a while. The rapids I was floating down were severe and a few times I was dragged into a hole and had to wait a few seconds holding my nose until I resurfaced. When the safety kayaker eventually got to me, I could see that he had a very concerned look on his face, as I was taken to the other raft and pulled up. The other guide was still shouting instructions to the kayaker who went off to get Dee. There was a worrying air of panic about the guides which in turn was worrying the others in the boat. This was obviously a dangerous part of the river to come off. By the time I had caught my breath I could see Dee in the water, grabbing onto the front of the safety kayak for dear life. She was so weak she could barely hold her head above the water and the waves were washing over her face relentlessly. She was gasping for breath whenever she could and crying out feebly for help. Her face was desperate and panicked as I pulled her into the raft. She sobbed limply into my lap, her muscles completely worn out. She had been pulled along with the currents, unable to get to the surface and almost passed out underwater. She had come near to drowning. She wretched a few times and coughed up water and the others in the raft steered to the bank. I tried to make a couple of jokes but Dee was not amused and she refused point blank to go any further. The guide told her that there was a meeting place she could get off just a couple of kilometres down the river, but she had already stormed into the jungle to try to escape the river. The guide told her to wait at the side of the road and he will send the truck back to get her. At the side of the road she was sick and some friendly locals offered her some oranges and looked after her till the truck arrived.

We had no choice but to continue with 3 people on 1 raft and 4 in the other. The other people in my raft had got injuries from the rocks on the river bed and had been shaken up by the crash. Gary whispered to me that he wasnt sure if he was enjoying this any more, as we paddled undermanned through ferocious rapids. In the next couple of hours we only capsized once more and this was in quite a calm bit of river, maybe grade 3, so it wasnt too bad. We were relieved to finish the ordeal and we met a dry (and happier) Dee to go for lunch at a trout farm. It will be a cold day in hell before Dee gets back on a raft, I'm sure of that.

We went into town and booked our Galapagos trip and that evening we had another BBQ and played with the owners 3 legged dog and huge insects around the campsite.

DEE SAYS:

Just in-case you didn´t quite understand the previous entry, I would like to add, on record, that this stupid activity totally sucks and I will never be happy around water again.

Imagine being in a washing machine with multiple large boulders hitting you for what seems like an eternity and there being absolutely nothing you can do about it but hope for a breath of air soon.

The first set of rapids I just seemed to tumble down on my own under the water, the next set of rapids I did clinging onto the underside of a kayak for dear life. After being pulled back into the raft, I saw the the steep jungle 6m cliff my exit and legged it. I´m all for teamwork and not letting the side down but it seems, realistically, I work on save your own ass first. I have never climbed a cliff so fast and without thought, and although puking my guts up at the side of the road isn´t my finest moment I couldn´t have cared less.

Thank you kind local lady for rubbing the gringos back and feeding her oranges to take the taste away.

I couldn´t walk or take a deep breath in the next day from the bruises and I have a bent finger FOR LIFE from where I fractured it trying to cling to the kayak. The upmost respect to the crazy idiots who think this is fun. I am a chicken s**t.

Crabs. Thousands of crabs. The beach living, pincer having kind. That was our next campsite. We were staying in Punta Sal a town with only 20 residents but a beautiful beach. With nothing else to do but enjoy the bar, beach or sea this was relaxing time.

On the way we had already had the fun of breaking down – fan belt broke and then being stuck in a nowhere town for two hours. It even had a cock fighting ring with the chickens tied outside so you could pick which one you wanted to fight- eugh.

We arrived late at night so at first I didn’t see the pesky little critters running around but once I got my flashlight out I realised the whole beach was full of baby and adult red crabs all waiting to pinch my toes. Everyone was walking around on tip toes, now and again you’d hear a scream as someone discovered one in their tent, sleeping bag, trousers….

The next couple of days were spent wandering around the nearby town or sitting on the beach. Ollie went horse riding along the beach, I’ve realised I like being able to sit down and for this reason will never get on a horse again. A couple of the guys went deep sea fishing for the day at the bargain price of $650, we lit up a BBQ expecting a feast of fresh tuna or something similarly BIG that had been promised by the fisherman. We all went hungry when they brought home a 2lb nondescript white fish.

Hours passed with beach cricket, sunbathing, sangria and swimming and everyone was revitalized by the end. Theres not at lot to write about Punta Sal, but time was well spent.

Another border crossing, another stamp in our passport. The border crossing we passed through to get into Ecuador was the most hectic yet. There was a busy town right in the middle of no man's land, we drove straight through the market in our huge, orange, tourist truck which seems to scream LOOK AT ME to the locals. Sellers were offering us watermelons, lemons, apples, bread and sweets through the windows of the truck. This wasn't a normal border crossing - Where was the pervy security guards? Where were the boring queues? Where was the border? We had to drive around to the outskirts of the town to find a badly signposted shack where we could get our passports stamped. They obviously aren't that concerned with immigration in this country. The landscape that we drove through changed almost instantly. We had come from quite arid Peruvian farmland to lush rainforest and huge banana plantations.

Dee had been sick for a couple of days now and I was woken from a short nap by her gripping my arm tightly with a open-eyed, panicked look on her face. "I need to go to the toilet, NOW". This wasn't the kind of toilet she could cross her legs and wait. I had to explain to the driver that Dee is not well and ask to stop at the next convenient point. We stopped at the next layby and Dee shot into the nearest banana plantation to donate some free manure in front of a farmers kid. She looked mortified when she returned. "That was one of the worst experiences of my life". After we drove off, about 5 minutes later, I got another grip on my arm. Dee really wasn't feeling well. After we stopped at a service station - proper toilet - she took enough medicine to stop a (brown) river flowing and we journeyed to Cuenca without further incident.

Cuenca is a nice little touristy town in South Equador with a lot of churches. We were told the next day would be the last opportunity to buy essentials for our excursion into the jungle (lots of mosquito spray!). Unfortunately it was a bank holiday in Ecuador and all the shops were closed. There was a marathon being run in town which was on TV then we walked outside to the street and watched it in real life for a while. We managed to draw some new currency out from a cash point. Ecuador's real currency fell through a few years ago, so now their only currency is the American dollar, so I can finally use the $1 bill I've been carrying around since Los Angeles almost a year ago.

That evening we found a nice tapas restaurant and we could finally afford to buy wine again ($15 a bottle - half the price of Peru). The meal was one of the best we've had in South America and for 2 courses and a good bottle of wine (and beer) cost $50 for both of us - living in luxury and within our budget!

The local shop sells a litre carton of wine for $1.80. I think we are going to like Ecuador.

A long driving day of 12 hours and we got to our hotel at Huanchaco, a stop off point for visiting the Chan Chan ruins and the Sun and Moon pyramids. We camped in the grounds of the hotel, even though it only cost £2 each to upgrade to a room - damn this budget! The hotel had a couple of cool pet tortoises wandering around the grounds, while I went on the internet to look for the cheapest Galapagos trips.

The next day we picked up our guide who took us to the pre-Inca ruins of Chan Chan city. The ruins are huge. Chan Chan is only one of the city complexes on this site and is famous for its large walls surrounding the city and it's labyrinthine layout. The site is undergoing a lot of restoration work because the walls were only made out of mud, rather than stone which the Incas used. There is only one entrance to the city and, once inside, we wandered around the thin passages looking at areas like the huge open marketplace, the graveyard and the small doorless houses. The walls within the city had degraded a lot, but it was still possible to see the patterns carved into the mud, which would have been painted in bright colours if the weather hadn't worn them down. This wasn't the case at the Sun and Moon pyramid which we visited next.

The Sun and Moon temple had only been discovered recently and is still like a huge archeological site, with people beavering away with their toothbrushes and little scrapers. We entered the temple from the back where there is a large holy rock which was used for human sacrifice. Loads of dead bodies were discovered around the stone where the offerings were left for the God of the mountain which overshadowed the temple.

Further into the temple we could see the mud bricks that were used for the walls. Each brick had a distinct mark on one side which was the identifier of its creator. This way, the foreman could count how many bricks each of the slaves had made.

For the first time at any ruins we have visited (which is a lot) we were shown paintings that have withstood the test of time. The inside of the temple had been decorated with intricately carved blocks depicting the Creator, 2 metres high and painted in red, blues and greens. The reason these paintings have lasted is because they had been deliberately buried by the Moche people. It is thought that each time a new ruler took over, they buried the old temple and built a new one on top of it, more splendid and impressive than the last. This gives the pyramid its shape, but makes it quite hard for the archeologists to excavate because the walls are not supported by any structural work. We also saw our first sight of a funny-looking, traditional Peruvian Hairless Dog.

That night we stayed at a hotel in a town full of massive locusts and the next morning visited the Sipan museum. The museum is supposed to be the best in Peru, if not, South America. The whole museum is dedicated to the burial site of the Lord of Sipan which was discovered in 1987 by archeologists. The burial site is unique in that only a small number of artifacts have been stolen by grave robbers. Much of the grave was intact, including the body of the king and the hundreds of personal possessions that were buried with him. Even his wife, dog, son and concubines were sacrificed and buried with him. The amount of gold these people wore was obscene. He had a gold hat, nose plate, earrings, chest plates, back plates, statues, necklaces - everything. It must have looked impressive. A lot of items were actually gold plated copper which was done from 100AD to 500AD, over a thousand years before gold plating was used in Europe. The museum exhibition finished by showing a really cheesy animatronic version of what life would have been like in Sipan times, it even had a musician puffing out his cheeks and dog with a wagging tail.

La Paz was a pretty busy city, but Lima is almost 3 times as big and the drive into the city showed that this was definitely true. We got lost on the way to the hotel and we were taken down roads which hardly had an inch between any of the traffic, and past markets which had people flock to sell us stuff through the windows of the truck. It was the last day of this leg so we had planned to go out with the people who were leaving, but because of some misunderstanding we ended up going out in 2 groups. We travelled 20 mins in a cab to get to Miraflores, a kind of Ayia Napa type place where bars try to entice you in with free pisco sours (it worked). Somehow we ended up at a tequila bar off a side street that required us to hand in our cameras at the entrance. I had forgotten to bring my camera, but there was only one type of bar that cameras aren't allowed and that's a strip bar. I was surprised to see that there wasn't any stripping going on, and there wasn't even a stage or pole to be found anywhere, but there did seem to be a lot of single women about. This wasn't a strip bar, it was a brothel. A couple of the guys had already got drinks without realising (yeah whatever...) so we decided to stay for one round. Within minutes a couple of our friends had girls on their laps and even had prices agreed; £50 each for the night. They left to go back to the hotel with the girls and we tried to meet up with the other group we left behind. 2 hours and 2 long taxi rides later we were still searching for the club, so we gave up and headed back home.

The next day we tried to sort out our Galapagos trip but we were unsuccessful because it was Sunday. Everyone was meeting later that night to go bowling and we had read that there was a cinema in the same complex. LarcoMar Shopping Complex was a tourist hotspot, full of American chain restaurants and prices 50% higher than anywhere else in the city. We ended up ordering a disgusting, overpriced, undercooked chicken burger from a fast food restaurant which we had to take back. The cinema was showing the new Owen Wilson film, Drillbit Taylor, which was very funny. When the film finished I had completely forgotten where I was and had to think "Oh yeah, I'm in Peru, not the Printworks in Manchester".

We met up with the rest of the group and went bowling, but me and Dee didn't have enough money to go out after, so we played a couple of games of pool (I won) and went back to the hotel to watch TV.

The scenery was amazing at Huacachina, driving up the coast with bright blue sea to one side and huge sand dunes to the other. We were off to an overnight desert stay.

Sleeping bags packed we jumped on a V8 engine dune buggy ready to explore the dunes. It seated 8, plus driver, and once strapped in, we sped off vertically, straight up into the dunes. Crazy fun, the driver was mad and loving it as much as us, the more I screamed and giggled, the faster and crazier he got. We never overturned the buggy but on various occasions we were on two wheels, or flying in the air after hitting the top of a dune too fast.

We stopped at the top of one dune to grab the Sand boards. This was the biggest dune I’d ever seen and perched at the top on your board you realised how high you actually were. Ok I thought, sands soft, it’ll be fine, off I went. I couldn’t stop screaming, but each time I opened my mouth my teeth and tongue got covered in sand, I never learnt my lesson, mouth open all the way down. I lost my balance towards the end of the dune and ended up rolling, I had sand in places I wish not to mention, my shorts were 4kg heavier with all the sand in the pockets and my nose, ears and mouth were miniature sand pits. Oh, it was good fun at the time, but I regretted my decision when I found out there were no showers.

We drove deeper into the desert to set up camp. This meant getting out the sleeping bag and lying it onto the sand, no tents; we were sleeping under the stars tonight. We lit the fire as the sun set and the desert chill set in. The guides got the BBQ going and we opened wine to warm our cockles.

One of the guides was going back into town to collect fire wood so a couple of begged to tag along for the ride. Dune buggies in the pitch black is the best fun ever. Although they have lights they don’t have a great beam, so you can only see approx 10m in front so you never quite know where you are or what’s next. To us it felt like we were zooming across the surface of the moon. At one point he turned off the lights as we hit the top of a dune, sheer brilliance, it got a rip roaring reaction from the passengers.

We headed back into the dunes for the BBQ and wine and all fell asleep where we sat, around the crackling fire and watching the stars. Sounds nice and peaceful, which it would have been if the male population didn´t snore their heads off after alcohol. No I don’t snore – Ollie hears things in his sleep.

I´m still finding sand now.

While we were failing to sort out our Galapagos tour in less than 2 weeks time, we stopped at the next best thing on the drive to Lima - the Ballestas Islands. They are commonly referred to as 'the poor man's Galapagos' because of the volume of wildlife in such a small area. A lot of the animals are similar to those seen at the Galapagos, such as sea lions, penguins and cormorants. There aren't many penguins, but there are a lot of sea lions and about 40,000 birds. The skies are slashed by long lines of flying cormorants and a couple of people on our boat were hit by bird poo.

The stench of the guano was overpowering as we got close to the islands. The guano is farmed once every 7 years to be used as fertiliser, and that is the only time humans go on the islands. Dee complained that the smell made her feel sick and had her hand over her face for most of the journey.

There was a part of one of the islands that had a beach which was packed full of sea lions making loads of noise. All around the boat, sea lions poked their heads out of the water just a few metres away to look at us. If this is supposed to be the poor man's Galapagos, I can't wait to see what the real one is like.

We camped briefly on the beach at Puerto Inca which was the original Inca port. There is still an Inca trail which starts here and ends up at Cusco, 100 days walk away. There isn't much left of the port except a few ruined storage houses on the hills, which we walked up before heading to the town of Nazca to see the famous Nazca Lines.

On the way to Nazca we stopped off at an ancient Nazca cemetery site which had been looted by grave robbers hundreds of years ago. The Nazca people lived from about 200 BC to 700 AD, when the area was a lot lusher than the desert it is now. They were very religious and practiced mummification of their dead tribesmen. When the tombs were looted, the robbers pulled the mummies out of their graves and left them lying around in the open, taking the gold valuables that were buried with their owners. These mummies were eventually found and some of the tombs restored by archeologists. Out on the surface, the mummies were unfortunately damaged by the elements, making them half mummy, half skeleton. There is still some interesting facts which can be found from these remains, like the skull of a priest which has been forcefully deformed by strapping blocks of wood his head when he was a child. The priest must have looked strange with a long, flat forehead. Some of the mummies had hair over 2 metres in length which was still dark and dreadlocked, showing that they were only young when they died. The mummies had quite a comical appearance, like skeletons with clothes on. There were even mummmified babies in the tombs; one still had skin and toenails poking from under its clothing.

The most famous legacy the Nazca people left were huge pictures in the sand around the town and on mountains, that can only be seen by air. The campsite at Nazca was right opposite the airport, so as soon as we set up camp we arranged ourselves into groups of 5 to go up in the small propeller planes. No one knows how or why the Nazcas made these pictures, but it is thought that the land was drying up, and these were efforts made by the priests to appease the Gods. The flights cost about £40 and lasted for 25mins. We saw 14 pictures including a dog, snake, hummingbird, parrot and (my favourite) a monkey.

Arequipa is the largest city in south Peru and it is bustling and metropolitan. The most famous local landmark is the huge active volcano, El Misti, that dominates the skyline. We had the option of climbing the volcano, but after climbing one at Pucon, I had sworn never to do one again. Instead we decided to spend some time assessing our finances, something we had put off for a long time. Unfortunately the outlook was bleak and as we added up the sums it was obvious that we couldn't go on spending like we had been. From now on we had to stick to our budget and save up to do the optional extras, like the flight over the Nazca lines in 2 days time. We went out for a meal that night and found a restaurant that had 3 courses and a glass of wine for £3.

The next day we went to see the famous Inca mummy that was found sacrificed on the summit of the local volcano (£3). The story was interesting and the items displayed with the bodies were in pristine condition. There were a few child sacrifices found on the mountains in this area. The most famous mummy, Juanita, had become dislodged from her sacrificial cave by a nearby eruption and fell into the surrounding ice, which preserved her body better than the other children. She was found to be 12 years old and of noble blood. She was taken up to the peak (which is a very hard climb, even for today's professional mountaineers) and eventually killed ceremoniously by being whacked on the head. She was buried with gold statues of herself and fine cloths and pottery as a gift to the mountain, which the Incas worshipped. Unfortunately Juanita was off being preserved for a few weeks so we only saw one of the other mummies, which was a girl sitting crossed legged, wrapped in her Inca clothes and you could still see her fine, long black hair. Spooky.

We didn't do anything for the rest of the day to save money for the Nazca flights in a couple of days.