The room wouldn't be ready for a few hours so we had a sneaky plan that if we hung out in reception making it look untidy they would give us a room early so we could get some much needed sleep. It didn't quite work, so we sprawled out on the sofas, slept and generally brought down the tone of the whole hotel – who cares? I think I was snoring as people were walking by to go to breakfast.

We were finally put up on the 14th floor and had an amazing view of Cocovado and Christ the Redeemer. I was so happy, guess what greeted me in the bathroom – complimentary toiliteries, now you know you're in a proper hotel when you get freebies!! We also had a minibar, couldn't afford to drink anything from it but we had one!!

After a good few hours sleep we headed out into Copacobana, passing a few shops on the way, looking at the amazing Havaianas. I had forgotten how much I loved Rio – the general buzz of the place is amazing and I can sit for hours at the beach side bars and people-watch. I love the nonchalant attitude in Rio to body shapes – who cares if you're 70 and a little overweight –wear that thong proudly!!! Ollie dosen't think its quite such a good thing, he tells me there are certain things in life you just don’t wanna see.

We found a little kilo restaurant and had some great food and wine before heading back to the hotel to get ready for our night out. It was Saturday, I’d not had a chance to dress up in ages, I was going to Lapa!! It is the place to party in Rio at the weekend, lots of small street bars sell the most potent cocktails and after only 2 of the caprihinas we were ready to boogie. I wanted to go to Scenarium, a famous salsa club with 3 floors. It took us a while to find it as it's actually a 15min walk out of Lapa but worth the hike. It's staged with almost a 1940's theme, lots of deep red velvet and old posters, a live band played samba downstairs as people of all ages danced salsa. What I couldn't understand was their payment policy, you don’t pay to enter, you get a card with your name on it. Everytime you buy a drink its marked on the card- then at the end of the night you give them the card and pay to leave. So in theory, you can get in, dance and drink loads all without paying a penny. No wonder the queue was huge to leave at the end of the night – now, where did I put my wallet...?

The next morning we knew we'd been drinking caprihinas and both looked the worse for wear at breakfast gorging on the included greasy bacon and eggs. That afternoon we felt able to make a move out of bed and wandered to the market. I think we were both getting desparate about buying presents as the tacky plastic Christ the redeemer statue was looking more and more enticing. That, or we were still drunk. A local Rio team, Fluminense, were playing Botafogo, another local team that night and we sat in a greek café eating hummous and watching the game with the locals.

The next day we hit Copacabana beach. I did some shopping (I love beach sellers) and Ollie moaned that there wasn't any waves and left me after an hour to go and play on the computer. Feeling tanned up by teatime we went to go and meet friends that we'd left a few weeks ago in Venezuela. Mikkel and Katrina soon learnt our love for kilo restaurants we went to yet another of the glorious cheap food haunts. We sat outside a bar afterwards drinking wine and for hours. The barman couldn't quite work out how to open wine bottles and they kept trying to feed us 'specials of the house' shrimp pastrys. I practiced my 'mm, this is nice' face while trying to wash down the fishy puree with cheap wine. If that's the speciliaty of the house, I'd hate to see what the cheap food was like.

Ollie had another date with his electronic mistress the next day so I went and lounged by the rooftop pool. Had the whole place practically to myself the whole day, may have been something to do with the fact the pool was cold enough to cause hypothermia but it was relaxing. I could see Cocovado from my sunlounger and if I leaned my head slightly right the rooftop of the posh hotel on the next block, did you know it looks like pink is THE colour to be wearing in Rio?!

Our last day in Rio we wanted something to end the trip of a lifetime so after a quick shopping expedition to Ipanema we were picked up to go handgliding. A couple of beaches south of Copacobana we sarted the climb up the side of a moutain through a national park. Katrina and Mikkel also joined us, although Mikkel, the big wuss, 'just wanted to watch'. Up at the top the lead guy gave us instructions, just keep running, even when you get to the edge and make sure you smile for the camera. I was up first, strapped my flip flops onto my feet, got into an attractive nappy sack and pegged it like there was no tomorrow off the edge of the mountain. It feels great when you first jump off, so relaxing and free. Actually quite a lot different from paragliding which is more tranquil, you actually get the sense of speed with handgliding. I loved flying over the top of all the large villas and sneaking peeks into their back gardens, you could also see Sugar Loaf Mountain in the distance. As you come into land (we were landing on the beach) you feel like you're going so fast you're going to eat sand, but he just quickly whips the handglider more vertical and it loses speed and height and just gently sets you down on the ground. I don't think any of us found it scary, just exciting and relaxing and worthwhile doing.

That night, the very last night of our South American adventure, we headed out into Ipanema. We had cocktails in a really great little restaurant with quaint chintzy décor then headed to an R&B club. Many cocktails later, many bad photos later and little memory of later we had partied hard and it was time to call it a night/day.

We watched sunrise over Rio from the rooftop pool (Ollie got sentimental – bless him) then headed to bed for a couple of hours prior to grabbing a cab to the airport. We made it through check-in with our ridiculous amount of bags, luckily without being charged excess (I have no idea where it accumulated - I didn’t shop that much) and fell fast asleep on the plane. The big smiling faces of our parents greeted us at Heathrow and by the time we hit the M25 congestion it felt almost as if we’d never been away. Although the seatbelt kept rubbing my shoulder (not used to wearing them), the driver was sat on the wrong side of the car, the petrol was expensive, the road seemed remarkably smooth and pothole free, it was raining and cold, I read adverts and they were in English, we could understand every word in the conversation...

Thanks Ollie for truly making it a trip of a lifetime and helping me to be more optimistic (I chose my words carefully). You know we said – ‘it’s a once in a lifetime experience’ – well,where are we going next?... (Trekking excursions and white water rafting excluded)

Monday mornings still suck, and its freezing here, and OK! Magazine isn’t what it used to be, but the difference now though is instead of dreaming about being away, I remember being away.

Me encanta América del Sur

Back to Rio remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We arrived at the airport with ample time and was able to check in our over-heavy bags, so looked around the touristy shops. I bought something I didn't realise I needed until I saw it - a varnished piranha. The flight was delayed by an hour and we kept saying "It's weird being alone isn't it?", missing the comfort of the group. We arrived at the massive coastal city of Fortaleza at 6:30am, shattered from not sleeping on the plane at all. Our bags were being transferred automatically onto the next flight, but we decided to check the baggage reclaim anyway. Good job, because we saw our bags, complete with their luminous pink TRANSFER tags tied around them, which we had to check in again while we looked like zombies from lack of sleep. We headed straight for some quiet seats and plonked ourselves on them for a couple of hours sleep before our flight that afternoon.

Out of the window Fortaleza looked like an exciting place. There were huge skyscrapers jutting out of the skyline and loads of people about. It has a reputation as a party city but we just sat and played cards till our flight took us to Natal (delayed again - I think this is a common theme for TAM airlines). Natal was unexpectedly big. We thought it was a small beach town, more like a fishing village, but it was a huge metropolitan city. We were staying in Ponta Negra, a tourist destination South of the city, which was a short taxi ride away. We passed huge supermarkets and really nice restaurants on the main road through Ponta Negra and arrived at our hotel to be taken to our rooftop suite. The hotel wasn't directly on the beach, it was a couple of blocks back, but we could still see the sea and the famous Morro do Careca, (or Bald Spot Mount), a sand dune which used to be used as a ski slope, until it became too eroded for use. I jumped in the private pool and then quickly jumped out again. It was freezing, good for cooling off, but the weather here was cloudy, much to Dee's dismay. That evening we just got some snacks and watched TV in our outdoor lounge, complete with a hammock to relax in.

The next day we went to breakfast and the sky was full of dark clouds. I tried to reassure Dee that the clouds would clear, but I think she could detect doubt in my voice. It wasn't long before the heavens opened and it began raining. It wasn't the rain that we get in the jungle that only lasts a few minutes. This was Manchester rain, light and unending. After a lot of persuasion, I managed to get Dee off the dry sofa and leave the apartment. We walked to the famous sand dune and walked down the main street, looking for a restaurant we had seen on a flyer. We walked for about an hour, occasionally the rain got heavier, but it wasn't cold and Dee had her umbrella. Dune buggies zoomed up and down the roads here, as there are some good dunes to the North of Natal. We walked back along the promonade and watched the dedicated surfers for a while then stopped in a bar for a drink. The barman assured us that the next day will be sunny, I hoped so for Dee's sake. We ate at a really nice pay-by-weight restaurant that evening. That night I went to sleep with my fingers crossed, hoping it would be sunny the next day.

We awoke to the same cloud as the day before and Dee was almost suicidal. "I'm going to have to go back to England whiter than I left", she snarled angrily. I could see blue sky on the horizon, but it was like trying to humour a child, "Come on Dee, it might clear up soon, cheer up". She was adamant that it was going to rain for the rest of the time in Ponta Negra, so she sulked on the sofa until the blue sky on the horizon moved overhead and the sun emerged. "What's the point in going to the beach, it's not going to last". I pretty much dragged her to the beach anyway and by the afternoon the clouds had lifted, as had Dee's mood. The waves here were massive, so that was me entertained for the afternoon. The beach sellers parolled the beaches selling clothes and jewelery, so that was Dee entertained for the afternoon. I hired a bodyboard for 2 hours for £3 and burned my face waiting for the perfect wave. By the afternoon we were both glowing so we headed back to our apartment. In the kitchen was a small barbeque so we thought it would be a good idea to go the huge supermarket and have a meal indoors that night, to save money. It actually ended up being more expensive than the nice meal we had the previous night, but Dee got to have a couple of bottles of wine, so she was happy whatever.

The next day, sunblocked to the max, we went to the beach again and I tried bodyboarding again. I also got a pina colada from a beach bar, which was expensive, but served in a hollowed out pineapple, complete with pieces of fruit toothpicked to the outside. We had one more day here so we looked into dune buggying, a popular tourist activity in this area. It was only £20 each so we booked it in to leave the next morning. After finishing the left overs from the night before we went back to the pay-by-weight restaurant and shared a plate of sushi. Although we were getting up early for the dune buggies, we went to the main nightlife area of the town. It was full of cheesy clubs and open air bars, but it was busy and good people-watching. There is a large hostel in this area which is done up to look like a medieval English castle, but we didn't dare go inside to the Taverna club in the basement.

The dune buggy picked us up at 8:45 the next morning. The dune buggies here were a different style to the ones we had been on before. Their centre of gravity was lower and the engines not as powerful. The buggies can hold 4 people and it was cheaper for us to shack up with 2 others - a brazilian woman and her son. We shot along some beautiful empty beaches and flew over the sand dunes with about 50 other buggies. We stopped at some touristy markets where you can ride camels and take photos of the views. There was a bar/restaurant we visited which had tables and chairs in a lagoon. It was nice to swim and cool off a bit. Even Dee went in.

After flying over more sand dunes and crossing a river by ferry, we stopped at a large dune that had zip wires into the lagoon below. It was only £2 a go so I bought the ticket and got strapped in. I shot off without even thinking of the landing until I saw the water approaching very quickly indeed. I skimmed across the water on my bum and let got of the harness. Getting back up the dune was easy - a boat took us to the chair lift. At the top there was also a steep slide into the lagoon, which Dee persuaded me to have a go on (she didn't exactly have to twist my arm).

The next stop was for lunch at an expensive buffet restaurant, which we didn't eat at. We returned to our hotel at 5pm, 8 hours after we left. Our flight was leaving 1:30am so we packed our stuff and headed off to the same pay-by-weight restaurant (we are so boring!) and we ate a huge plate of sushi each before heading onward to our last adventure.

Natal remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It was the first time in 5 months that we had had to organise anything and so the next day was a full day spent on the computer researching. I wanted beach and relaxing, Ollie wanted waves and excitement, as usual we had completely different ideas and expectations. After a full two days we had decided the place where we both could be satisfied and booked the last two weeks of our adventure.

During the time in Manaus we said goodbye to both those who were leaving and those who were continuing with Dragoman. One night we were told of a café that turned into a dancing bar later in the evening. It was in the middle of the huge millennium shopping centre and so to save money we drank beer in the food court first. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a night out in a food court. Security guards were looking at us gone out but we were excused when they realised we were foreign. We then went off to nearby Ponta Negra, the beach resort of Manaus on the river side. We found a rock club that sold extremely potent and cheap Caprihinhas. Everyone was dancing to music they would never personally even listen to and loving it. One guy ended up being the worse for wear in the taxi on the way home, Ollie and I awoke feeling extremely delicate.

We had decided on our last day in Manaus we would see the spectacle of the meeting of the waters, this is where black waters of the Rio Negro run alongside the Rio Solimoes without mixing for 8km to make up the Amazon river. Heading out in a small boat from the port we travelled for 20mins, passing a few river dolphins on the way until we came to the edge of the dark black Negro River water. Like the edge of a cloud it meets the lighter coloured slightly green Amazon. As you dip your hand into the rivers you can clearly feel the temperature difference of the warmer River Negro compared to the Solimoes.

Catching a quick movie (Hancock) at the Millennium Shopping Complex we headed back to the hotel to try and pack up our 5 months of stuff we had collected from the truck. Ramming things into the backpacks, making it as small as possible we were quite aware we had two huge bags to check in each, way over our luggage allowance. I still have no idea where it all came from, especially as I seem to have worn the same outfit for the whole holiday and Ollie has lost almost everything he originally came out with.

That night at 22:30 it was really sweet as everyone came down to reception to see us off. Even I had a few tears as we said goodbye, you really don’t realise how close you get when you're practically living in each others personal space for weeks on end. I was really looking forward to a relaxing two weeks with just Ollie and myself but I knew that this ending just made the ultimate trip end tangibly close.

Manaus remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The day of leaving Santa Elena was sad as we knew our overlanding was coming to a close but by lunch time we were blowing up balloons and hanging streamers with everyone else getting into the party spirit. Ollie and I mixed up some caprioska (it was entertaining trying to cut up lime with a penknife on a moving truck) and by the time everyone had had a couple of the 50% vodka cocktails down their neck, the cheesy music was flowing, faces were smiling, foots were tapping and everybody was wearing their party hats. When the pass-the-parcel came out, the cocktails were working to great effect and so the forfeits went down a storm, these included eating a sweet out of someone's bellybutton, putting ice down your pants, moon walking the length of the truck and doing an Irish jig, all in-between eating the prize sweets scattered among the wrapping. Dancing in the aisle was called for next, this was made difficult by the unexpected pot holes and so we had ultimate forfeits for anyone who spilt their drink. The ultimate forfeits inlcuded someone being a butler to everyone for an hour, another guy was tied to someone else for an hour, including when he had to do a toilet stop. One guy ended up getting blind folded for half an hour, which is when we got the silly string out and just covered him in it. The toilet stops became quite amusing as the more tipsy people got, the stops were more often, and usually just at the roadside as service stations were few and far between here. Locals often slowed down and even took photos of the gringos nipping out to do a number one still wearing their party hats and streamers.

Everyone on the truck got awarded a certificate of their not so outstanding achievements while being on the trip; all were taken in humour although some went down better than others!! By the time we stopped for dinner at a truck café in the middle of nowhere we had decided to set up camp in their car park and continue the party.

Everyone had a great time and it was so much fun celebrating the end of our overland trip actually inside the truck, in home, with everyone else. The very last day was a quiet one on the truck, for some reason most people felt unwell – must be a virus going round!! To this day I cannot even smell vanilla rum due to the bilious vomit it produces in my stomach.

Truck Party remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We passed 2 waterfalls on our drive, the first was beautiful but we had just returned from Angel Falls and so failed to be impressed. The second waterfall however was stunning. Jasper falls is a waterfall that is extremely shallow with 2-3ft drops between levels of natural semiprecious jasper beds. The bright orange/red of the jasper almost glows as the sun and water hits it. The lady living close to the falls also had 2 pet baby toucans that wobbled over to you as you approached which was in itself worth a short stop visit.

Santa Elena lies on the border of Venezuela and Brazil and is the starting point of treks into the lost world. This was our first laundry and hotel stay for almost 2 weeks and after the Orinoco Delta and Angel Falls everyone was relieved to finally get clean! Opening my laundry bag even made me gag and it was my muck!

I had mixed feelings about trekking into the lost world. We have done lots of jungle stays recently and the thought of packing up another small bag to hike for many kilometres, get dirty and sleep in a tent did not appeal. However, Santa Elena is a small town with not exactly lots to do and the thought of staying there for 4 days intrigued me even less.

It was possible to hike up to the most famous tepui, Mount Roraima from here, the area that the famous book 'The Lost World' is based on. However, short of time, money and lack of energy for the 8 day difficult trek we opted for the 3 day table top mountain walk through La Gran Sabana.

The night prior to heading out for the trek the guide gave us some info on the area. It's very rich in crystals and Indians believe it to have great powers. It is also supposed to be a UFO hot spot with many documented sightings dating as far back as ancient times. The guide told us that to approach the mountain safely we had to make prayers to it: "We come in peace, we mean you no harm, I ask the permission of the guardian spirits please let us pass".
I thought he was a nutter and I had no faith in him leading us safely throughout the trek. We would have tents and basic food provided, could drink water from the rivers but everything else we had to provide and carry on the trek.

I woke that morning with dread and general lack of energy for a sweaty 3 days walk. Ollie was all smiles, firstly, has seen the original movie and is a fan and, second, the fact that it is an alien hot spot (geek).

We had decided to make this walk as easy as possible so took only the clothes we were wearing, rain jacket and sleeping bag. Roll mats were left behind as generally we can both sleep just about anywhere after overlanding for so long.

A 2hr jeep ride took us through part of the La Gran Sabana to a small village and the start of the trek. After a small lunch we headed out. The first days walk was flat through grassland, marsh and forest until we reached our base camp 2.5hr later. This was located at the side of a waterfall and river. The guys immediately jumped in to cool off. Ollie nearly killed himself trying to slide down the waterfall and I tried not to be eaten alive by the sand flies watching him.

We climbed one of the nearby grassy hilltops to watch the sunset. It lit up the whole of Mt Chirikayen, our challenge for the next day.

The following morning Ollie woke early to try and catch the sunrise from behind Chirikayen. I was smug that I'd chosen to stay in bed as it was cloudy! Neither of us had gotten much sleep, not because of the predicted alien activity, but because it had thundered, lightened and thrown it down all night and I DIDN'T BRING A ROLL MAT. I thought the tent would be on grass, not huge razor sharp rocks. Through pure exhaustion I'd fallen asleep around 4am, but could only sleep on my back to stop the rocks slicing my hips, apparently at 4am he woke up cos my snoring was worse. I don't snore; the aliens were sending him auditory hallucinations.

We headed out of the tent for much needed coffee to be greeted with thousands and thousands of sandflies. 80% DEET wasn't working and I even had bites on my lips, eyes and even my bum when I'd snuck to the loo! The bites bring up a drop of blood straight away and the scab lasts for weeks. Sandflies are my most hated creatures of all time, what is their purpose, WHY WOULD EVOLUTION INVENT THEM??

We set off for a full day's hike, not in the best of moods and energy lacking, but ready to get up the mountain. A couple of kilometres out of the base camp the guide pointed out recent puma tracks, but that’s as close as we got. Going at quite a good pace we walked grasslands, woods and then started the steep assent over boulders up the tepui. It was hot and the rain had luckily stayed away which made the walk pleasant if not sweaty and nowhere near as difficult as expected. In 2.5hr we were standing at the top of Mt Chirikayen looking out onto the La Gran Sabana. The old stories tell of dinosaurs living on top of these mountains. There are no dinosaurs. Carnivorous plants and orchids make up the greater population of the flat boggy landscape. However after an hours walk along the top of the mountain we hit a vantage point where the view was amazing. We could see the path we had done that day, the base camp and on the horizon the starting village we had left yesterday.

The whole top of the mountain is covered in quartz crystals that sparkle as the sun hits them and when you rub them together they glow. Maybe this is the reason for the Indians believing that the mountain had lots of energy.

We ate lunch on top of the mountain edge with our feet dangling into the valley below. I still failed to see any UFOs.

The group split into 2 on the walk back. Those who wanted to walk further along the top and those wanting to head back to base camp. Guess which group I was in??? The other group did see a giant anteater though that I was gutted about missing. The walk back was almost a run, as the main guide had left us with one of his helpers who didn't understand that gringos were not mountain goats and needed time to climb down boulders. We slipped our way through the forest in the mud. As our boots sank up to the ankle in the sticky stuff we were reminded of Glastonbury and the fact it would be the very same weekend if we were at home. I was surprised when I found myself thinking, I would rather be here, doing a walk, yes, I would rather be hiking! Whats happened to me??

As we reached the base camp after only 2hr running back, everyone headed to the waterfall for well deserved wash. I had to get into the water for a wash but it was sooo cold. It was the quickest clean I've ever had, and the quickest I've ever got dressed again what with all the sand flies.

Campfire, curry, lightning storm (no aliens), rounded off a really great days hiking.

The next day was only the base camp to village flat 2hr walk and the rain held off. Reaching the village the trek organisers had ordered us a take away Chinese meal that was devoured by all. Everyone had a positive buzz about them after the 3 day trek, including myself. I suppose the guide would say it was the mountain's energy or the natural crystals. I believe it was probably caused by the exercise and the artificial colorants in the Chinese - but who am I to argue?!

Santa Elena & Chiricayen Tepui remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The campsite we stayed at in Ciudad Bolívar was owned by a crazy German guy and it had a pool table, a swimming pool and some cages containing a peccary, a deer and a couple of capuchin monkeys. I amused myself by feeding the monkeys honey, which they licked off my fingers.

The next day the truck took us to the airport, which was pretty basic. Most of the group were taking the trip so in total they squeezed us into 4 small planes. Our plane contained 4 passengers, which the pilot seperated out according to weight so it doesnt tip the plane. I was sat in the middle on the back seat on my own (presumably because I'm so light). The journey to the Cainama National Park passed over the beautiful jungle with striking tepuis, rising high above the jungle. The reason for getting a plane to our location became clear - there are no roads anywhere to be seen. This area is completely isolated. There are no buildings, no farmland, no boats anywhere. Our destination was a small village with an airstrip who's only function is to be a starting point for the Angel Falls trek. The village was built here because it was next to a waterfall, so boats could not transport building materials any further. We landed on the gravel runway and were transported to our hostel. Because of the expensive importing cost and tourist requirements, everything here is expensive. Me and Dee went out looking for chocolate and the local shop had mostly-empty shelves except for some ketchup, salt and oil. I wondered what was for dinner. Beers here were also really expensive unfortunately.

That afternoon we went to the local waterfalls where it was possible to walk behind them. Everyone was dressed in their swimming costumes as we were expecting to get wet. We did. Being behind the waterfall was amazing. The noise and pressure of the water was intense and the sense of power was overwhelming. We went through 2 waterfalls in total, the second was much more powerful. It was like being in a typhoon (I imagine). Water drops smashed into our faces like pins and we had to shout over the noise of the water. We saw some swallows which live behind the waterfall, somehow managing to fly through the wall of water to the outside. This was certainly a unique way to experience a waterfall.

Dinner that night was an expectedly bland pasta with generic sauce and the veggie option - pasta with a sprinkling of cheese on. I'm glad I eat meat. The next day we headed out late morning for the trip to Angel Falls. The starting point for the trip is at the waterfalls we visited the day before. We set on an uncomfortable dug out canoe and set off up the river. Half an hour later we had to get out and walk while the boats navigated a fierce bit of rapids and we had an opportunity to swim in the river while we waited for the canoes. When we set off again the river started to become scarier, as the motorised canoe shot off up the white water, a few times the the level of the water came dangerously close to the top of boat. Dee looked worried so she just looked down towards the bottom of the boat. If she can't see it, it can't scare her. After an hour or so, we stopped for lunch at a place the guides called Happy Pool. It was a pretty waterfall with a pool for swimming in. It was happy, even though there were large water spiders on the rocks around the water.

After a bad sandwich we set off again up the rapids and the scenery became even more dramatic. Tepuis are table top mountains indicitave of this part of South America. This land was once part of the African super-continent and are so old they have been eroded in strange ways. Mount Roraima is the tallest and most famous of these tepuis and Angel Falls falls from the largest tepui, Auyantepui. These massive, cloud-topped mountains rise from the jungle like huge buildings and impose over the river we were travelling up, like giants peering over at us tiny people. It was the most dramatic scenery we had seen this holiday. We passed many tall waterfalls that we excitedly point at thinking it may be Angel Falls, but an hour and a half later we turn a corner and we are confronted with a HUGE waterfall, like a God taking a leak. This waterfall stands out a mile compared to the rest and made us all go "wow".

We stopped by some huts (the only sign of human life we had seen in 3 hours), and disembarked onto the pink rocks that give the Churun River it's tea brown tint. We changed into our walking boots under the shadow of Angel Falls for the jungle trek to the viewpoint. The path was well trodden, but there was no man-made walkway. We had to splash through puddles of mud and climb over large tree roots before the route took a steep turn upwards. The jungle here was humid, but shady, and not too different to the other jungle we had trekked in many times in the last few months. After a sweaty hour's trek, we scrambled up a final large rock and we were at the mirador. Angel Falls was about 400m away from us, the other side of the small valley carved by the falls, and we could still feel the spray. The base of the falls was just a fine mist where the water has so far to fall and loses weight and velocity. Angel Falls is the world's highest free-falling waterfall at 979m, with a clear drop of 807m. We were there during the rainy season so the water was beating down relentlessly. Apparently, during the summer months, it is possible to hike right to the base of Angel Falls and to touch the walls of the tepui. At the time we were there, the base of the waterfall was like a being in hurricane, and it was not safe to continue. Huge waves of water vapour exploded out in rolling clouds from the bottom 50m of the plunging water. We stood around for an hour, taking in the scenery, before slogging back down to the river and the hut we were staying in that night.

Well, I say hut, but it was just a large sheet of corrigated iron with hammocks and a long table. There weren't many home comforts here, except an unclean blanket which we were issued. The hut was open to the jungle, so at night we had many visitors in the form of ants, mosquitos, frogs, moths and other large, probably blood-thirsty, insecty things. Where I lay, I could see Angel Falls and the noise of the beating water constantly whooshed in the distance. I have always had difficultly sleeping in a hammock because I like to sleep on my front, and that night was no exception. I was still awake at 5am and I almost got up with the other 4 guys to trek through the dark jungle to see the sunset shine on Angel Falls, but I could hear rain and I could see it was cloudy, so I just lay there in my hammock. That was a good decision because the guys came back saying they couldn't even see the waterfall through the clouds.

The journey back the next morning was tough. Our bums still hurt from sitting on the hard seats the day before and sitting down again was like sitting on large bruises. Softening the seats by using the life jackets helped a bit, but after 3 hours going downriver in the pouring rain, everyone was moaning with pain.

Back at Cuidad Bolivar I got the terrible news that my Grandfather had passed away. He had been very ill in hospital for the past 3 weeks. The family had discussed it and decided that I shouldn't return for the funeral. There was only 3 weeks left of my holiday and I was really hoping he would hold out and I would get to see him when I returned. He was a great man and a very strong character. I will certainly miss him.

Ciudad Bolívar and Angel Falls remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Our boats arrived, and I have to say I was relieved when it wasn't a dug out but a speedboat with comfy seat - sweet! The water was covered in floating lillies and we raced down the river through all the greenery. There were small huts on stilts by the riverside with families chilling in hammocks watching their children playing in the river, all complete with the essential, skinny and barking pet dog. We also saw some howler monkeys.

We arrived at the lodge just as the heavens opened jungle style. Lunch was eaten listening to the hammering rain and crashing thunder. Half way through lunch I was interrupted by something patting me on the shoulder softly. I turned round to be greeted by Rosetta, a semi wild monkey, I thought maybe she wanted spaghetti but turned down all food, she just wanted to sit and hold my hand.

When the rain had calmed a little we made a dash for the room. This lodge had a penchant for animals, apart from Rosetta the hand holding monkey, there was a macaw that was able to fly and insisted on being the centre of attention by copying human laughs and stealing food. There was a puma in a cage that at one time had strayed too close to the village and instead of killing it, the lodge persuaded locals to capture it. Ollie’s favorite was the semi-tame ocelot that they kept on a chain but moved around daily. It had an obsession with trying to claw feet – not good for those wearing flip-flops as it still had its razor-sharp claws intact. I knew exactly what Ollie had been doing the time he walked over to me with his big toe covered in blood – that’s what you get for tormenting an ocelot with a towel and thinking its chain is shorter than it really is.

Back at the room as we were getting ready to head out into the rain I was doing a quick inspection (as always) to see if anything nasty was lurking. I never expected to find anything but as I looked, something right in front of my face caught my eye; grey and furry. Crap. Tarantula. I thought they moved quite slowly but as Ollie excitedly ran over and blew on the thing it moved so quickly it looked like it had jumped, exactly like a scene from arachnophobia. At the same speed I had ran in the opposite direction, closed my eyes and stood on the bed while screaming at Ollie for disturbing it. He then starts laughing and asks me why I'm stood on the bed "I'm looking at the ceiling checking for more" I lyingly replied, my eyes still shut tight. Terry we called him, he was happy to sit in the corner of the room away from the beds, I was happy for him to stay there. I did on occasion threaten him with the bug spray if he moved.

We have by now spent a long time sat on boats going up and down water ways but only in the dugouts, so we were all happy to hop back onto the speedboats for the afternoon. 4 hours later we’d traveled through miles of river ways, ate the fruit of life, seen howler monkeys and drank rum and coke. Its no Los Llanos if you’re after wildlife but speeding down narrow Lilly filled waterways on the boat makes up for it.

That evening we sat on the dock to the lodge watching a lightening storm located in a single cloud on the horizon and keeping a beady eye on all the tarantulas on the ceiling inside hiding from the rain.

The next day we got up early to go down river for 2 hours for a jungle walk. It was pouring it down and we sat on the boat holding a huge piece of tarp over our heads to try and keep slightly dry. With the rain and the wind from the speedboat I was freezing and relieved to finally arrive at our destination. We were heading out for a walk in the jungle and as always it was time for me to make that painful decision. 80% DEET so no insect bites but get wet, or raincoat and insects inside it (wear both and the DEET melts the plastic and it sticks to your skin – nice!)

Gumboots on, gap in the rain, off we went following the guide with the machete (on TV if you see someone running through a jungle its sooo fake, greenery grows back overnight). Useful plants and trees were pointed out and the guide made us leaf umbrella when it started raining. Ollie was made a seed husk hat that made him look like a cheeky elf, but when it rained an orange liquid ran off it and stained his t-shirt. The jungle was really water logged and even with our gumboots it was too deep to walk across so we had to swing across streams and sinking mud by vines.

After the walk the locals showed us how to make fire naturally by rubbing sticks together. The young guide was really trying but failing on the wet, damp day. The old, experienced head of the family was laughing at him and got a fire started with the damp kinder in no time. Ollie tried it and all he made was a blister on his hand.

On the way back we stopped at a local village for the necessary tourist handicraft market. The village consisted of wooden shelters open on all sides and hammocks in the centre. Most of the hammocks had young children fast asleep in them as the women displayed their handicrafts to us, often with a baby nuzzling their breast. They use the local seeds as beads and the vine to crochet into baskets and hammocks. I didn’t see one man. The women were often carrying huge loads while watching the kids, doing their washing in the river and cooking. The guide said most men would be out fishing – which from what I’ve seen is using live bait on a wooden stick and leaving it while you sleep – hard life for the male of the species in these parts!!

The next morning we headed back out on the boats to do a little fishing ourselves; meat bait and free lines. We got a couple of small cat fish and some of the tiniest piranha we’ve seen but that was the highlight of our success.

I sat for an hour back at the lodge, holding rosettes hand as she rested her head on my hand and slept, wondering how I could get myself a pet monkey when I got home. Ollie is monkey boy yes, but it’s really not the same.

On the jungle excursions you only get room to pack a really small backpack and it’s so humid that as soon as you put clothes on they are damp. As we headed back to Cindy our truck we all smelt like we’d been at Glastonbury for a month. It was not pleasant driving after that, more vomit inducing.

I like the jungle, but I now realize I like the TV idealism of it. In there, everything is hard work, you're never clean and classed as food for far too many insects, despite plastic melting DEET. I even appreciate the cold water showers after being in the jungle, and that says a lot.

Orinoco Delta remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The monkey cage was kept out of the way in another field, which I had to go and see. Sadly, the capuchin monkeys looked bored in their small cage and were desperate for attention. I gave them a mango and a rotting stick from the ground which they tore apart enthusiastically, looking for insects to eat.

We spent most of the 2 days playing with the animals (except those damn iguanas), and playing no-holes-barred polo in the swimming pool, while Tamar spent most of the time at the hospital with poor Malcolm, sorting out his treatment.

Ranch San Andres remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We had a long drive day that day with a lovely bush camp to look forward to so we stopped at Caripe to pick up lunch and chill for a while. The town is tiny and so cook group did their best to pick up things to cook. The vegetarians all looked forward to the freshly bought cheese for lunch but found out it was actually empanada pastry as we all bit into our sarnies - mmm tasty raw pasta.

At the oil bird cave we set our tents up in the car park and waited for the famous spectacle. At sundown, hundreds of birds that live in the huge cave fly out to go hunting together they have the appearance of a large bat as they are flying and communicate with each other by distinctive squawks- a way of upholding their hierarchy. The cave has huge stalagmites and stalactites and the birds use clicks and echo to navigate around them.

The birds fly out in groups of 7 following a lead bird to collect their food, an oily, avocado-like fruit, hence the name oilbird.

All night we could hear the thousands of birds in the cave and above our heads going about their nightly business.

The next morning we headed into the cave early before the other tourists to see their environment better. Led by 2 guides with faint gas lamps we started walking into the dead ended cavern. Instantly it hit me - the smell. Thousands of birds and their 'do-do' had my nostrils reeling. Then if you’re lucky/unlucky depending on how superstitious you are one of the birds hanging like a bat above you would crap on your head. You also have to constantly fight off the thousands of small flies that try and fly into your eyes or mouth and try not to slip on the hundreds of years of bird s**t. It's not a pleasant environment to say the least, but the cave is impressive and I ain't never seen a bird look more like a bat.

We walked 1.5km into the cave, at 800m climbing through a small hole into another cavern. At this point the birds can't fly through so at least it smells slightly better.

As we had just started our return into the bird cavern I'd had enough and was trying my best to get the hell out of there when I heard "Dee, you're needed", a guy from our group had fallen. My initial reaction was 'oh bloody hell, I have to go back into the s**t pit for a sprained ankle'.

When I arrived it was a different story. I saw the guy on the floor, conscious but obviously in pain having fallen off the main walkway awkwardly and landed 2ft below in the bird excrement. On quick assessment I was happy his spine was ok but he had obviously badly broken his right lower leg/ankle and dislocated his left arm. There was a lump just above his ankle, which was his bone sticking out and pressing against the skin. His foot hung like a wet , heavy sock from the end of his leg and his arm below his left elbow was facing the wrong direction. I sent the guides off to get the stretcher and an ambulance and tried my best to calm the rising panic in the poor chap, who had turned delerious with pain. The cave guides tried to help by pulling Malcolm by his broken arm onto the stretcher, so I curtiously told them to leave us alone and with the help of some of the drago guys I managed to stabilise his fractures using belts and fleeces and get him safely onto the stretcher.

I ended up in the back of the ambulance with him and our tour guide taking him to the nearest clinic. At the clinic he was re-assed by their doctors and told he would have to be transferred to the nearest hospital. They wanted to put him into the back of our truck for us to take him, despite his severe injuries and obvious pain. In the end one of the nurses at the clinic called in a favour from her ambulance friend and managed to get him a transfer. They managed to operate on his injuries that day and then he was transferred home for further non emergency surgery. I hear he's doing ok and plans to resume his travels some time in the future and to that I wish him all the best.

So just a warning to anyone who enters the oil bird cave, the guide told some group members that people fall off the path at that point often. Take really good no-slip shoes, take a light regardless of what the guides say and tread carefully.

The Oil Bird Cave remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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There's not much to do at Playa Colorada except go to the beach or kayak to the islands off the shore. We were here for 2 days so we booked in the kayaking for our last day. The next day we spent on the beach, which was beautiful and relaxing, but not as exciting as the waves at Playa Colombia.

The kayaking was not something either of us had done before. The group that went out the day before didn't see any dolphins, and the chance of seeing dolphins was the only way I could convince Dee to get in a boat again after the "rafting incident" back in Ecuador. Me and Dee were in a kayak together and I knew there was going to be trouble by the way Dee had a panicked look on her face at the sight of water. Sure enough, as soon as we got in the sea the abuse started; "what are you going that way for?", "why aren't you paddling?", "you're tipping the boat", "well paddle then", "you're splashing me", "we're going to crash" etc. The others laughed as I rolled my eyes. I did make the mistake of letting Dee sit in the back, which meant she could get away with not paddling very hard, while I put in all the work. She was also in charge of the rudder.

We followed the guide out to sea towards the islands in a zig-zag path, hoping to see dolphins. James, in another kayak, took some photos of me with my camera and threw it back to me, which I unthoughtfully leant over to catch. My mistake here was that I thought these things were supposed to be hard to capsize. We both ended up in the sea, our kayak upside down and full of water. Good job my ears were full of salt water at that time so I couldn't hear Dee screaming abuse at me. We swam around and collected the floating debris from around the crash site (bottles of water, sun cream, sandals etc) and the guide helped us empty the water out the boat. Dee gave me a look that could have made Satan tremble in his boots as we pulled ourselves back into the kayak. Luckily Dee's mood lightened when we saw a family of dolphins swim past us about 10m away. I was going to suggest we capsize the kayak again so I could swim with them, but I didn't think Dee would respond positively. It would have been better if the dolphins swam under us, because the water was the clearest I've ever seen, but they just observed us from a distance. After they left we parked the kayaks on a dirty beach on an island about 3km from shore where we did some snorkeling. To be honest, after the Galapagos, any other snorkeling experience is going to be a disappointment. We didn't see much we hadn't seen before, except a sea cucumber which I picked up and played with. After we were bored with the snorkeling Dee had a sleep on the beach while me, Anders, James and Ian went off in search of ice cream.

There was 1 restaurant on the island and when we got there it was overrun by giant iguanas. There was a family eating lunch and throwing scraps to the hungry, aggressive lizards which surrounded their table, up to 1.5m in length. I, as ever, was keen to get up close to the animals and feed them myself. I found some leftover rice on another table and rolled it together to form a nice iguana snack. Timidly, one of the big iguanas took it. I got a smaller piece and tried feeding another one, which looked at the rice hungrily, just as another, smaller iguana ran up to me and took a big bite of my finger. The razor sharp teeth went right into my flesh. It quickly let go and ran off before I could introduce the little bastard to my foot. The bite mark covered the tips of my index and middle finger and blood was pouring from the wounds, which I washed in the sea (looking out for sharks). I used to quite like iguanas, now I hate the little bleeders.

For the return journey I insisted that I sat in the back so I could keep an eye on Dee's paddling and we went a lot quicker (and straighter). We had done a lot of paddling that day and I got blisters on my hands, which, along with the iguana bite, stung really badly when I cooled off in the sea. Bloody iguanas.

That evening, Tim announced that he has had enough of the jungle and wants to stay in Playa Colorada for the next week, so he arranged to meet us again in Manaus at the end of the leg.

Playa Colorada remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It was another group meal that night to say goodbye to more wayfarers. Katrina and Mikkel, the Danish couple, were leaving to be replaced by some more Danes. Also there was a white-toothed, smooth-skinned American joining from LA, who had no idea what he was getting himself into. He would become the butt of many jokes during the next leg of the trip.

Our meal was at TGI Fridays for some reason, which was expensive and crap. We left skint and sober so didn't go out afterwards, saving ourselves for the meeting the next morning and welcome party the next night.

As usual at these meetings, we were briefed on what to expect on the next leg. The included a lot of places where there was no access to the internet, a worry for me because my granddad was ill in hospital. We were also told that the price of the Angel Falls trip had risen by US$150 to US$400, which meant we would have to save up for it.

That evening we ended up at a cheaper restaurant where Dee could afford a bottle of wine. Despite her ordering the wine and asking for 1 glass, the waiter looked confused and still brought out 2 glasses. He obviously didn't think Dee could drink a whole bottle for herself, the fool. We all went to an English bar afterwards which was small, trendy and expensive.

Caracas remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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After spending a luxury night with aircon we woke to bright sunshine and headed for la playa. 10min walk over a footbridge and down a small road which opened into a beautiful small cove. Sheltered on each side by green mountains that curved round to hug the beach, the sand was white and the sea crystal clear. Ollie got straight in the water, to do battle with the six foot waves. They were obviously a lot more entertaining then me as he emerged like a bright red prune 8hrs later. I went in up to my ankles but it was cold, involved water and I had a really good book to read. I played roast chicken, gently cooking myself in the long awaited sunshine until I was golden brown and hungry.

That evening we wandered down to the harbor. I sat opposite Ollie at dinner and sweated in the radiating heat coming of his bright red burnt face. As we ate our tea, we watched the fisherman bring in the days catches. There were hundreds of fish; most of them were the size of dolphins and some with long pointy faces? marlin?.

We had the next morning to enjoy the town before heading out. I went down to the beach and actually went in the sea up to my knees. Ollie stayed at the hotel and watched wild monkeys playing in the trees outside our room. Puerto Colombia is hard to get to but well worth the visit if it’s the quiet idealistic tropical beach stop you're seeking.

One thing I must mention that I have noticed in northern Colombia and Venezuela. What is it with the bellies guys? It seems here it's cool to pull up your t-shirt to your chest and let it all hang out. And really, size does not matter, the bigger the beer belly, the higher the t shirt gets pulled up giving you a great view of what appears to be the male version of late pregnancy. I know it's hot, but really, must we all suffer? It's even coming to the point when Ollie thinks its a good idea, god help us.

Puerto Colombia remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We stopped for lunch in Barinas, a typical town in this region. We were surprised to see huge 1m long iguanas in the central plaza, darting easily up the trees when we approached. There were beautiful yellow birds and even an owl sleeping on a branch high in a tree, which we tried to wake up by shouting and impersonating mice. The locals looked at us as if we were mad to be taking photos of these animals. Just as everyone was relaxing by the park we heard a huge crash in one of the trees followed by an almighty thud. We spun round to see a huge iguana splatted on the path, still on the branch which had collapsed under its weight. It sat there for a bit looking around puzzled, and, as casually as it could, it climbed back up the tree it fell from. Everyone found this hysterically funny and we laughed for a long time at the poor iguana's expense.

Our bed for that night was at a jungle lodge outside town in the middle of nowhere owned by a New Zealander. There were opportunities to do white water rafting here, but there was no way Dee was going anywhere near rapids again. I swam for a while in the river with the Danish couple, Mikkel and Katrina, and then 4 of us went on the jungle trek with Alan. Alan is our wildlife guide for the next few days in Los Llanos and fancies himself as a bit of a Steve Irwin. We didn't see much we hadn't seen before in the jungle in Ecuador. I was hoping to see a snake, but the best we could come up with was a furry caterpillar. Alan is also a collector of butterflies and had discovered a couple of new species, but apparently that isn't too uncommon in the butterfly world. We slept in our mosquito-netted lodge for 14 people and lit a mosquito coil to kill all the creepy crawlies that had somehow snuck in.

The next day we got on the truck with Alan instructing us as our guide. We were heading towards his lodge in the middle of Los Llanos when we spotted our first anaconda. Unfortunately it was dead on the side of the road, having been run over, but it still got people excited and hopeful that we would see one alive. If one man can get us an anaconda it was Alan (he told us) - his record is 11.5 in one day (10 alive and 3 dead - they count as half).

Alan's lodge was in a village called San Vincente on the Apure river. Most people here are farmers or fisherman, and some of the money we have paid goes back to the village, supporting the school and educating the people about conserving the wildlife. When we arrived, the heat was oppressive and the lodge didn't have aircon. 8 of us were in the room with beds, the rest were in hammock room upstairs. After a sweaty siesta we headed out on our first boat trip on the river. We were trying to spot river dolphins and Alan knows where they like to hang out. The boats stopped at the mouth of a tributary and the drivers revved the engines, which gets the dolphins curious. Soon enough someone would shout "OVER THERE!" and we'd all spin round excitedly to see the remnants of a splash. A couple of times I saw a fin above the water but was too slow to photograph them. The dolphins got braver and more inquisitive and started to jump higher to see what was happening on the boat. I got a lucky shot with my camera and photographed one with it's head out of the water, which, Alan says, is quite a rare thing to do. They are ugly. Really ugly. They aren't cute, like Flipper, they are an ill-looking pink colour with swollen looking f aces. More like Flipper with some kind of terminal blood disease. They had begun to lose interest so I asked if I could get in the water to try to bring them back. Alan thought it might help so I jumped in and made plenty of splashing sounds and funny noises underwater. One dolphin surfaced briefly about 4m away from me, but the water is so murky I wouldn't be able to see them if they came close anyway.

We were shown some more wildlife which is indigenous to this region. The boat driver caught a vegetarian piranha and we saw a strange, prehistoric turkey-type bird called a Hoatzin bird. It is thought to be the missing link between dinosaurs and birds because before 3 months old, the young have claws on their wings, like little dinosaurs. The bird is not a member of any super-species, and has no sub-species, it is it's own genius. And it's loud, fat, ugly and flies badly, so I'm surprised the species has lasted so long.

The 2 boats pulled into a tributary and we were handed fishing lines with cuts of meat on the hooks (the vegetarians opted out). Here was a good place to catch piranhas. As soon as I threw the line over the side I could feel slight pulling on the line as the fish nibbled the bait. There were a lot of piranhas around the boat and they were hungry. I would quickly yank the line to find that those damn piranhas had nicked my bait. Each time I was so close, but these piranhas were too nifty. Joakim, a skilled American fisherman, was the first to catch a big one. Alan passed it around, showing off the red bellied piranha's huge razor-sharp teeth. Not many other people caught piranhas, but the free beers were being handed out and it was fun trying. After losing half a cows worth of bait, I managed to catch a small catfish, and, right towards the end, James amazingly caught 5 piranhas in a row, with the same bait, which we had fried for dinner that night (the fish, not the bait). Dee put her fingers in her ears to block out the sounds of the fish being whacked on the head by a wooden club. She was enjoying just feeding the fish and didn't want to catch any.

After the sun went down things got serious again as we went anaconda hunting. The boats had big lights powered by the engines which were shone on the banks of the river and in the trees as we sped past. After about an hour we hadn't found any anacondas but Alan disappeared into one of the trees and emerged again with something big in his hand. He threw it into the boat and the animal scuttled around under everyone's feet. People screamed as the thing moved from the front to the back of the boat, like a Mexican wave. The large iguana was quick and panicky but I managed to grab it by the back legs and pick it up. Alan released it into the water and it swam to the shore and climbed up a tree. Over the next hour in the boat we didn't see any anacondas, but Alan caught us another couple of snakes. He broke off a branch which contained a brown tree snake. It bites, but it's not poisonous. Alan passed it around the boats so everyone could get a photo. Me and Dee were surprised to find out that Tim had a fear of snakes and when Alan moved the branch towards us, Tim all but jumped out of the boat to escape. The snake tried to attack Alan a couple of times but he was too quick and moved the branch away from himself and the snake snapped only the air.

The next day we were awoken at 4:47am to adventure out looking for special animal on the plains, and early morning is the best time to spot them. It was still dark when we woke up and bats were flying around the courtyard and coming to rest above the toilet door. They were tiny and cute, like mice. They disappeared up a crack in the ceiling and we left in the back of a cattle truck, the sun rising in the distance.

It wasn't too long before we stopped on the road between 2 fields. 2 of the drivers got out and legged it into the field on the right. Far in the distance like a tiny black dot, a black animal, the length of a human, bounded further into the field. The 2 drivers sprinted for ages after the giant anteater, until they were like 2 dots chasing another dot. Alan had a pair of binoculars, but soon they were so far away it didn't make much difference. The anteater had escaped and the sun was rising higher, making it less likely to spot another one. The drivers returned slowly, knackered after the chase. We didn't see another anteater that morning, but we arrived at a local ranch where we could walk around and spot wildlife.

Straight away there was a pond full of caimans, with a huge family of 30 or so capybaras in the distance. Us 'oldies', who had been on since Rio in February had already had our fill of caimans and capiburas in the Argentinian Pampas so we yawned our way through the first bit while the newbies took photos of the sunbathing caimans and the dead, vulture-chewed capybara on the side of the road. Alan told us that there are only 2 species of crocadilians in South America; the common caiman and the almost extinct Orinoco crocodile, which was over-hunted for its beautiful, handbag-patterned skin. The owner of the ranch told Alan he saw an anaconda in a pond up ahead and we all perked up. The driver picked up the dead, eyeless, half-eaten capybara and threw it in the back of the cattle truck we were travelling in, which grossed us all out. Further up the road Alan spotted where the anaconda was. Part of the snake was poking out from under the reeds and it had eaten something big, like a baby capybara or big caiman. Pete, with his eagle eyes, spotted the head poking a foot away from the bloated, floating lump in the stomach. The head was the size of a big burger, Alan estimated it was 3 metres long, a big one by any standard. He needed some people to help get it out of the water and I jumped up to lend a hand. Alan was looking a bit nervous as he prepared to grab the snake's head. I was in charge of the tail and the 2 drivers and Ian were in charge of the body. Alan counted down and we all pounced on the huge animal. It was strong - I struggled to stop it's tail coiling around my arm. With the added weight of it's dinner, it must have weighed the same as a human. It was 8 years old, 3.5m long, female and it pumped out stinking white liquid from it's anus, which, I didn't realise till later, was impossible to get off. I should have grabbed the body, not the smelly end. Alan passed around the snake for everyone to have their photos taken with it. When Ronak took the snake, everyone backed off. Ronak can barely hold his own bodyweight, let alone a huge, deadly snake's. But, to everyone's surprise, he didn't let go and no one was horrifically mutilated.

Once we all had our fill of photos, we put the anaconda back where we found her and she swam off, the lump in her belly still floating above the reeds. Alan told us there was a special animal that we were going to see next, so we drove deeper into the ranch, the smell of anaconda goo and dead capybara making us all gag. Good job this is an open-air cattle truck. We speculated that we might see a puma or jaguar as we stopped by another caiman infested pond, as the drivers began hacking the limbs off the dead capybara from earlier. They attached the bits of flesh to a rope and threw it into the water. Soon enough we saw the special animal - it was an Orinoco crocodile. It was 5 times the size of the caimans, which silently watched the croc take its share if the meat. It was obvious this was king of the pond. The patterns on the skin of the crocodile were beautiful. It certainly would make a nice pair of boots.

On the way back one of the drivers told Alan he overheard the ranch owner say he was going to kill the anaconda because it was too big. It was time for a rescue operation. Like the Thunderbirds, we found the snake again, threw it in the back of the cattle truck and transported it 100m away into another pond where it should stay away from the farmhouse and the cattle.

After returning to the house, washing my hands a lot and getting some sleep, Alan told us of a cow crossing which was happening that afternoon. Some cowboys were going to transport a herd of cattle across the 120m wide river. They herded the cows in 2 batches. The first batch we watched from the bank and for the second half we got in a boat and drove alongside the cowboys. The cows looked completely panic-stricken as just the tops of their heads protruded out of the water. It didn't help that the cowboys were whipping them with big sticks to get them all swimming together in the right direction.

That afternoon we headed out in the boat again to see what we could find. Alan managed to catch a weak, young caiman which we could hold. The drivers of the boat said he saw a turtle, but Alan insisted it was just a log, even after driving past a couple of times to check. The boatman drove to the bank anyway and jumped in the river and pulled out 2 massive mata mata turtles. The turtles are prehistoric and really weird looking. Their heads are flat and their mouths look like they are smiling. They have little pig noses and are nearly blind, but they can scratch with their claws so we needed to be careful when holding them. We let them go in a small tributary and got out the fishing lines again.

This time was even less successful than the first time and nobody caught anything of any note. The driver used a net and caught a big catfish for us all to look at. The sunset that evening was spectacular and everyone watched in silence as the colours went from grey to dark blue to pink and red. We drove around for a while in the dark, looking for more anacondas, but to no avail. In the distance we could see flashes of lightning in the huge clouds from the Maracaibo Lake.

That evening, Pete called me upstairs to the hammock room. He had found a baby bat that had fallen from the ceiling. It was crawling around on the floor squeaking. I picked it up and it was barely the size of the end of my finger. It gripped tight but was so light I could hardly feel it on me. I put it back up in the rafters and it instinctively climbed upwards towards its parents.

We left early the next morning as we had a dangerous drive at the end of the day and Tamar didn't want to drive in the dark. We bid farewell to the Crocodile Dundee of Venezuela at sunrise, and set off towards the coast for some beach time.

Barinas and Los Llanos remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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All day it rained leaving the truck hot and sticky as it was too wet to open any windows - our only AC. Ollie cooled himself down by buying a 1L tub of ice-cream and eating the lot. Then hastily telling me he felt sick and it was my fault he ate it. Child.

(Ollie says: We parked up at the petrol station and filled the truck up with diesel. The 280 litres of fuel cost the same as my tub of ice cream - US$4!)

We stayed at El Dorado on the riverside, at a campsite with two toilets and no doors. That night you could hear boats moving up and down the river well into the early hours and we were told they were smugglers. This place is close to the border so the river makes it easy for people to smuggle petrol. Sometimes the national guard would have a watch post here to try and stop the smuggling but the campsite owner told us they went home after a few beers in the afternoon!

We had a BBQ at the riverside listening to the boats whizzing up and down the river and all desperately tried to avoid the toilets all night. I am so glad the camping bit will soon be coming to an end.

El Dorado remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The next day, I dragged myself out of bed at 6am to ride the longest and highest cable car in the world. Dee wasn't as enthusiastic as me so she grumpily informed me that she wanted to stay in bed. It gets cloudy later on in the day, so we were told to to get there early at 7am. Unfortunately, we weren't told that it only opens at 8am off season. I had to make the decision whether to go back to the hotel and bed, or hang about for an hour. Some other similarly confused people also arrived early so we went for breakfast together, to return at 8.

The cable car is in 4 sections totalling 4765m high and 7.77 miles long. There weren't many people there so we didn't queue long. Each section took about 15 minutes to ascend to the next level and the flora changed dramatically as we increased altitude, cruising up the side of the mountain. City and farms at the bottom, then humid jungle then cold sparse bush land and, at the end of the third chairlift, the weather worsened and the cable car started swaying violently in the sleet rain. The second to last platform was freezing cold and the storm winds blew through the station, and through our ill-prepared clothes. We hurried to the café for a warming, overpriced hot chocolate as the windows and doors howled as they were bombarded by the weather outside. The thermometer on the wall outside read 2 °C. We tried to get into the final, oxygen mask equipped cable car, but we were told to move away from the doors in case they were blown in by the gale. There was no way we were going to be able to travel the last leg and we were cold and feeling dizzy and headachey from the altitude, so we travelled back down to the bottom and the warmth. We managed to get a part refund, but it was disappointing not to be able to get to the top of the world's highest cable car.

I returned to a more awake and cheerier Dee and we were picked up to be taken to our paragliding trip. Neither of us had done paragliding before so we were quite excited as we were driven higher and higher up the side of the valley. Conditions weren't perfect - there was very little wind and the sun wasn't beating down on the valley as hard as usual. In fact, there was even a little rain when we got to our jump off/suicide point. The pilots got out the jeep and deliberated whether to cancel the jump or not, as the clouds had now formed a thick fog so it would be hard to navigate the first few seconds. Every now and again there was a slight break in the clouds, so the head pilot said we will give it a shot. Ronak, one of the new guys, jumped first. We were told to run as hard as possible into the fog and lift our legs at the last minute when the pilot screamed 'pull!'. Ronak didn't run as hard as he could and just clipped the top of a tree as he lifted his legs. Dee was up next and she wasn't looking too confident as she was jumping off over an area covered in cactus. She jumped over the tops of the cacti into the cloud and silently faded into the grey mist. I was up next and me and the pilot ran as hard as possible towards the edge, one minute I was running but not moving anywhere until I looked down and I was running on air. I pulled my legs up and we were engulfed by the fog. For a few seconds visibility was minimal then, almost as if someone turned on the light, we came out of the cloud and we were looking over the bright valley below. The feeling was so serene as we silently glided over the cacti and goats and the pilot pointed out the towns spread around the valley below. It felt like we were weightless as we traversed the side of the valley. I was strange looking down from my seat and seeing my unsupported legs dangling over the landscape shooting past below. The pilot took us into a final 360 and we landed perfectly on the disused land behind a petrol station. The whole flight took a maximum of 20 minutes, but I would have been happy to have stayed up there all day. Apparently Rio has good paragliding over the city, which we are both wanting to try when we return there in a months time at the end of our trip.

Merida remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It was sadly time to leave Colombia and head to the greenery of northern Venezuela and the luxury of our truck. We left Cartegena at 4.30am to get an internal flight back to Bogota, Columbia's capital. We then got an international flight and another stamp in our passport as we arrived in Venezuela s capital Caracas at noon the same day. Not a bad days traveling, except Caracas was a stopover, the truck was sat in Meridia waiting for us, another 12hr bus journey away. We were using local transport so it was decided to avoid the crushed daytime coach that arrives at 3 in the morning and get the comfy overnight coach. Great idea in theory just meant we had 9.5hours to kill in a bus station in the outskirts of Caracas. Traffic is too temperamental in the city to risk going into town in case you can't get back in time (petrol’s cheap, everyone drives, everywhere, always) so we sat in the bus station. This consisted of toilets, a few hard plastic seats and a shop that ran out of all food except empanadas that looked 3 days old. The same ones were there when we arrived and when we left, 3 days is an accurate guess.

We played poker for 5 hours, I won. I people watched and guarded the bags. Ollie walked around and found takeaway pizza for the price of a restaurant meal in England - rip off!! We all got sore arses from sitting on a hard floor for so long.

I've never been more excited to get on a coach. We were upstairs at the back, it had a toilet, curtains, fully reclining seats that were wide enough to lie horizontal in and played a movie in English (Spanish subtitles)! Intermittently the crazy Venezuelan driving would wake me as he swerved on the road and I'd find myself head butting the window, but tucked up in my sleeping bag I slept like a baby - even in the minus 10 degrees air con.

So that's the tale of our 30hr journey from Cartegena to Meridia. Enthralled, weren't you?

Into Venezuela remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We also went up to the highest point in the city at 150m. We had to pass through the rough area of town to get there and when we got out we were bombarded with sellers trying to sell us stuff. One old guy had a smiley sloth which you could have a photo taken with for the extortionate price of £5, but it was so cute it was worth it. I turned a blind eye when the owner pinched its neck to get it to face forwards for the camera.

We also visited the largest fort which guarded the main entrance to the city.

It was a public holiday in Colombia that weekend and a couple of the plazas had stages set up for a free festival. We ate at a restaurant called Crepes & Waffles, which seemed to be the only reasonably priced restaurant within the city walls, and then headed towards the music. The beer sellers on the street looked at Dee like she was nuts when she asked for wine and after journeying around for a long time looking some, she went home while I stayed with some others and drank good ole beer.

The next morning we headed out to the city beach at Bocagrande. We were told this beach was dirty and busy, but we liked the atmosphere and the water was warm and (seemingly) clean. Every few seconds someone would appear trying to sell fruit, ice creams, beads, arepas, 'real' ray bans, ashtrays, crabs etc. Dee liked it because it was like shopping but without having to walk round shops. I spent almost all the time in the bath-temperature sea until we had to go back for our trip to the mud volcano.

An hours drive from the city took us to the mud volcano; a 25m pillar of mud rising from the ground with steps leading to the top. A quick change into our swimmers and the 9 of us scaled the steps to the platform at the top. The mud pool was full of grey, sloppy, clay-like mud. We descended down the ladder (me first) into the warm mud below. The mud is 400m deep but it is impossible to sink below your chest. Even trying to hold yourself under is hard. Moving around is almost impossible, except if you lay on your back and let someone push you. Whatever position you move into, the mud supports you and you float in that position. Within minutes it was hard to tell people apart as they all look like scary stone statues with lifelike eyes. It is supposed to be good for your skin but I don't know if that's true. Entry is free but there are a lot of people who work there and they all expect tips. There was a kid helping me down the steps into the mud, 2 masseurs in the mud, a photographer who took my camera and sandals, and some women who washed me when I got out. There had been a storm brewing for quite a while and when it started raining the mud splattered into everyone’s eyes. The masseurs screamed "Peligro!" (danger!) - the rain was making the mud splat up into our eyes, so we climbed up the ladder, holding onto our swimming costumes for dear life, as the mud was heavy and pulling them down. We skated down the steps to where women were waiting to lead us to a warm lagoon and wash the mud off our bodies, out our ears and even asked us to get naked and gave our bum cracks a quick rinse. It was definitely one of the weirdest things we have done on this trip.

That evening we went back to Crepes & Waffles again because Dee liked the cheap salad bar (only £2 for a serve-yourself salad).

The next day in Cartagena was spent on the beach again and that night ventured outside the city walls to Bocagrande in search of a cheaper restaurant, but managed to find one that was only slightly cheaper.

After the meal we all decided to go to the casino. I changed up the £1.50 I had left from our daily budget and stood with the others at the roulette table, much to the disapproval of Dee. I was happy to stand back and watch for a while, while the others lost their money. Randomly, Dee wanted me to put some money on black 10. To humour her I put 1 chip on that number and amazingly, it came in! I won nearly £5 on my first bet. She wasn't as lucky again, so I cashed in my (or, now according to Dee, 'our') winnings and bought a couple of beers at a bar before heading back.

Our last day in Cartagena was also spent on the beach and that evening we tried to go to a different restaurant, but couldn't afford it, so went back to Crepes & Waffles again.

Cartegena remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I don't really think we have made the most of Bogota. There's a lot that the city has to offer (like the world famous gold museum), but on our budget of only 50,000 pesos a day, there's not much we could get out of it.

Bogota part 2 remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Half way into our journey we stopped at the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá. Here the miners had decided to honor the productivity of the salt mine by building a cathedral underground. Not all the group went - Ollie thought this wasn't worth paying £4 to see, but I was intrigued. We headed down into the opening of the mine to be greeted by carved salt steps, with blue lights illuminating the crystals in the angel and cross carvings. It was a labyrinth of high corridors and huge chapels with giant salt alters. I thought it was mystical and impressive, some Catholics thought it was offensive (being underground where hell is meant to be - freaks), either way, well worth my 4 quid.

The next stop Ollie enjoyed and I hated, we stopped along one of the highways to buy fresh strawberries and homemade cream. I had some strawberries; Ollie had mainly cream with a strawberry topping.

Dusk was fast approaching as we pulled into Villa de Leyva. It took us a long time to reach the small hacienda we were staying in, as the narrow streets challenged the skills of our coach driver, but we made it in the end. The hacienda owner took us on a quick town tour (it was dark by this point, by the end of it we still had no idea what Villa de Leyva looked like) but we did see the old mill, old brewery and church. And fell over the old cobblestones.

Back at the hacienda a local band greeted us and played music around the campfire while we drank the local sugar cane alcohol 'aguardiente' (like weak sambuca) served warm with cinnamon.

The next morning we were going rapelling so got into our mucky clothes ready for a 50m decline into the La Romera cave. 6 of us got into the back of a small jeep and endured the hour long drive to the cave location - remember roads are pot-holed dirt tracks here; the drive was painful. We all got into our harnesses and one by one abseiled down into the cave. After the cannoning the other week I felt like a bit of a pro, jumping down most of it and really enjoying it. Ollie went smoothly too, however one of the guys just couldn't get the hang of it and basically ended up upside down, lying sideways on the rock face, infact any position that you can't actually absail in. We walked for an hour or so in the cave that was actually more of a huge cavern once you were down, saw a family of bats sleeping and got really, really muddy. As I was walking through the cave the guide told us it had only one entrance and exit, (the way we entered) they used to chuck unfaithful females in the cave as punishment. Nice. Never the mans fault is it?!? This is when it occurred to me - how the hell do we get out. He said climb, I laughed "no really- how we get out?". Straight-faced "climb" he repeated. I learnt there was a small pulley system, but people had to climb out first to use it. Ollie volunteered to be one of the first to climb out unaided to help with the pulley. "Crap", I thought, we're doomed to live in cave, but fair play to him he lived up to his monkey man name and shot up the 50m cliff like Spiderman on a sugar rush. The last guy was the one who couldn't absail, he can't climb either. It was taking an average of 10mins to get up, 40min in he was hanging half way up saying he couldn’t feel his arms and the guys on the pulley couldn't lift him without his help. I couldn't do anything but laugh, I know, tempting fate, cos I'd not had my go yet, but it was seeing his dead weight dangling and the guys sweating and swearing on the pulley that had me in stitches. When it came to my go I think the pulley boys had a bit of a system going cos as soon as the guide said 'ready' I found myself launched halfway up the cliff in some kind of cartoon reverse bungee, telling them to slow down while I tried to avoid oncoming branches. I made the top in less than 2min.

We stopped at Angel Step on the way back that afternoon. It was pouring with rain as we followed a small path on top of a ridge between two valleys. As we came to the highest point the path narrows to only 30cm with a 150m sheer drop into a river one side and a 250m sheer drop the other. The guide told us to walk over it on the right, as the left was overhanging and unstable. I looked at it, turned round, and refused to walk over it. If I’m not jumping off it, or abseilling off it, hell, if I've not got a rope attached to me I'm taking no chances.

The next day I realised I must have done some climbing when I had to get Ollie to help me get dressed cos I couldn't lift my arms above my head.

Villa de Leyva remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Because of the McDonalds we had earlier, we couldn't afford to go out for the group meal so had some disgusting local food called 'arepas' instead from a dirty local restaurant. Arepas are basically flour and sweetcorn mashed up and grilled, with salt-flavoured cheese inside and melted margarine. Dee liked the bland, powderey taste however and she ate mine while I went hungry.

Bogota part 1 remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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If there is one thing you must learn about Ipiales it is that it is a dump. We went out to a restaurant for a group meal and to our dismay it was as expensive as Chile. A steak dinner with 2 beers was over £10 - and this was a cheap & nasty local restaurant. Our £15 a day budget wasn't going to go very far in Colombia.

On the way back to the hotel we noticed a lot of armed forces around our hotel. We were thinking Colombia is taking this crackdown on crime seriously and when we got into our hotel it was full of men in uniforms with huge AK47s. Some people were visibly very scared by this, as the men were banging on doors and demanding loudly in Spanish to see passports. We had been warned that the national guard sometimes take tourist's passports and demand money to return them, so we were hesitant to hand them over. Tamar explained that kidnapping from Equador into Colombia is common, so they wanted to see our passport stamps to prove lawful entry. Once we started to show the passports they got disinterested and left, but, for a while, we thought we were in some big trouble.

Ipiales remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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On the way to Otavalo, we stopped at a museum at the equator. Everyone shuffled around quietly, feeling the effects of the night before. All we knew about this museum was that they prove the water & plughole theory by draining a sinkful of water on the equator, then moving it either side of the equatorial line to show that it circles down the plughole in different directions in different hemispheres. On the way to the museum I had stubbornly said I didn't believe it to be true (I actually exclaimed that it was b*llocks), but seeing it done in front of us, many people were amazed and laughed at me for being a doubter. It wasn't until I could get to the internet that I found out it was a trick. Of course, I sent everyone the link and gloated that I was right, but I think I was the only that cared. We were shown some other equator experiments (also tricks), like balancing an egg on a nail (which supposedly can only be done at the equator) and also a bizarre trick that 'proves' it is easier to pull someone’s arms down on the equatorial line because you are lighter. Codswallop.

We were shown a few exhibits about indigenous tribes around the equator, including a real shrunken head from an Ecuadorian Amazon tribe. Around the open air museum were fake flowers for hummingbirds, and we spotted a couple drinking the nectar, their wings moving in a blur.

Once at Otavalo, we were tempted to get up at 6am to see the cattle market, but we needed a lie in after the full day hangover yesterday. It was Saturday, market day in Otavalo, so when we got up we headed into town. The atmosphere was very different to when we were here last time. The town was completely unrecognisable, as market stalls lined every street and people were walking around with arms full of live chickens or newly purchased pigs on leads. It was a perfect time to do present shopping, as it was possible to buy items from all around South America, including Alpaca clothes, Silver jewelery and all sorts of Native American arts & crafts. We spent the day bartering with the Native American stall owners and buying gifts and souvenirs. I bought a couple of Galapagos t-shirts for half the price that they were on the islands.

We were crossing the border to Colombia the next day and we won't see the truck again till Venezuela. In Colombia we would be flying from city to city because it is too dangerous to go by road, so we loaded up all non-essentials onto the truck and hoped they will still be there by the time the truck came out the other side of Colombia.

Otavalo and the Equator remains copyright of the author oharridge, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The last night in Quito was actually the first night of the next leg and we had new people joining so we all went out for a group meal. At a Mongolian grill, you pick your food and sauces and they stir-fry it in front of you. This was a brilliant choice for us as it was a set price, eat AND DRINK as much as you want . I had huge bowls of tofu and maize, Ollie had bowls of meat, meat and calamari and meat. The cocktails were included in the 'AND DRINK' bit, so the whole group took great advantage of this. I was on Godfathers (whiskey and amaretto) and Ollie was on Black Russians. It was quarter final night for football and Quito had just won against Boca Juniors and so the streets were full of people celebrating, jumping on cars and dancing in the streets and piling into restaurants to continue the fun, which gave the place a great atmosphere. Everyone was wasted after 3 hours of free cocktails and we all piled into a local salsa club. After a few hours boogying we headed back, the streets were still lively with people and so we took a risk by actually walking the 3 blocks home after a great night.

Quito, Part 2 remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Ollie was sulking at this point, "it’s the last day on the Galapagos and we’re just going to sit on a beach and look at marine iguanas...". So, I being nice, stopped enjoying my wonderful white idealistic beach and sun tan session and agreed to walk ALL the way back to town with him, to try and catch a boat trip for the afternoon. This would have been fine but it gave us one hour to walk all the way back, in the midday sun, high humidity and 35 degrees. Not fun. I ended up sulking at the end "I don’t even like snorkeling, what’s wrong with sunbathing, my feet hurt..." with Ollie grinning cos he’d made it in time.

So at 2pm we set off on a small rowing boat, 7 of us onboard to head out snorkeling for the afternoon. At first we had a guy who was telling us about what we were going to see and he spoke English. As we left the harbor he jumped off the boat, said " have fun" and left us with the driver of the boat, he spoke no English, sounded like he didn’t really speak Spanish that well either and he was nicknamed "Colombia" for obvious reasons. The sea was quite rough and as we reached the first little island just outside Puerto Ayora, one of the other guys felt really sea sick, he’d still got about 4 hours to go, I don’t think he was having fun.

The island we had arrived at had a small sea lion colony and we had anchored here to jump in and swim with them. We jumped in, and waited, I shivered, and waited, and the sea lions just sat looking at us thinking "just eaten mate, come back in an hour". Colombia reassured us in whatever language he was speaking that we were going to see lots more and set off driving straight into waves, rocking the boat and making the other guy sicker. We anchored at the edge of a rocky cliff and Colombia told us to swim down the channel inland. So we all set off just as I heard him go "its called the shark channel", so I wonder what were going to see in here then....

The channel was 2m wide at the entrance and just got narrower but went inland for a good 20m or so, with high rocky walls on either side. The water was clear and only a couple of meters deep so as I swam further and saw the huge shark shape laying on the floor under me it was quite daunting. There’s no real room for it to swim around you and the channel is a dead end. These were the common white tipped sharks we have seen before but larger than the ones we saw prior. As we swam down the channel sharks would be swimming towards you to get back to the ocean and you felt like they were coming right at you. Amazing. I counted around 8 in total, 3 really big ones, around 1.5m and rest smaller but no less menacing. It made up for the poor sea lion turnout. I went and got back on the boat at this point as I had turned into an icecube and Ollie carried on snorkeling into the ocean. He suddenly starts shouting at me “Dee, Dee, come and look at this”. I was on the boat already, wrapped in a towel, satisfied with my days sightings, and didn’t really want to see anything else (or get wet again). Then he starts, like, going mental,”you´ve got to come, now, hurry”. So I grudgingly jumped into the coldness again thinking “this better be a talking dolphin or something equally good”. As I swam towards him I made out a dark shape hovering in the vast blueness out in front of me, as I got closer it was a huge sea turtle caught in a sunbeam around 2m underwater. Looked breathtaking. He’d been right, it was worth it.

We hoped back onto the boat and Colombia took us in-between the rocks towards a cactus forest, the canal of love, he called it. More like the canal of discomfort and pain with the size of the horse flies eating me alive. A short walk through the cactus forest allowed us to see the marine iguana nests (good) and feed the mosquitoes (bad) before we headed back into Puerto Ayora at sunset. We caught a few cheeky pirate sea lions trying to steal someone’s boat and thanked Colombia for a great afternoon. He’d been right, it was better than sunbathing.

It truly is a uniquely special place.

Galapagos Islands, Day 5 remains copyright of the author dee d, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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