Dan Around The World

Planes, Boards and Dune Buggy-Mobiles

// August 31st, 2010 // No Comments » // Peru

With two weeks left in South America, and having recovered from Macho Pikachu, I was off to Nasca. The town itself doesn’t have a whole lot to offer except wide, dusty streets, low buildings and a water fountain. But it was sunny and hot and when Chris and Hayley arrived (our 6th week together now) we found ourselves knocking back sangria in a restaurant while watching World Cup games, including the edge-of-your-seat thriller, England vs. Algeria.

The Spider (top right)

However, the main reason for visiting the desert town is to take a flight over the Nasca Lines. The Nasca Lines are a series of ancient geoglyphs (drawings) etched into the desert, thought to date from around 500AD. Each drawing stretches up to 200metres long, and images include a monkey, astronaut, hummingbird and spider.

To be honest, I was a little more excited about flying in a small 6-seater plane than seeing the lines – as interesting as they’d be.

So, our time came at 8.30am, although I was split from Chris and Hayley and put into a separate plane, along with an Italian guy, his Peruvian lover and a child. He was on the run from the Italian police after base jumping from the Leaning Tower of Pisa in the buff. He came to Peru and fell in love with this lady, the sister of ex-Newcastle midfielder and Peruvian International Nobby Solano. The child, adopted by the couple from an Ecuadorian peasant was a child prodigy and could recite pi to 124 digits and complete the Rubiks cube with his tongue. Actually, they didn’t speak English, so I don’t know their stories, but I like mine.

Anywhooo, we strapped ourselves into the plane and up we went, pilot and copilot upfront, us 4 in the back. As always I used my jedi powers to help the plane off the ground and before I knew it we were smoothly cruising over the desert, engines whirring, headset alive with Spanish commentary from the pilot and a seemingly endless view across the desert.

Before long, we were above the first line drawing. The pilot would tip the plane to one side so basejumper and Nobby’s sis could see then swing us around so kid prodigy and I could see the lines directly below us. We spent about 30mins up in the air, travelling between drawings, tilting to one side and then the other.

It was cool, but by the 8th drawing the tilting and throwing around was making me a bit queasy and I was ready for land again. So I put the camera down, took some deep breaths and tried to enjoy the flight and amazing landscape, which spread as far as the eye could see while the morning sun made the plane’s shadow race along the sand below trying to keep up with us.

After about 15 lines, we smoothly landed back on the runway. I got a few pics of our plane and pilot while trying to wish away the lump in my stomach and waited for Chris and Hayley to return. I was secretly pleased to see Chris emerge looking quite pale from the ride too (sorry mate). All in all, a good experience!

That evening I took a 3 hour bus to Huacachina, via Ica. I was tired on arrival so just fed and went to bed. That meant the next morning was a huge surprise when I stepped out the hostel and realised I was surrounded by mountain-sized sand dunes! I was used to looking up at hills of green and white on my travels, so was quite shocked at first. Cool! I couldn’t wait to go exploring.

I hadn’t done much research on Huacachina, but was glad I didn’t embarrass myself by asking reception for a map (which I nearly did) as the place is basically just a promenade around a lake. So my exploring took all of 10mins. I spent the rest of the day watching World Cup games in the sun with two English girls, Becky and Anna. That was until 4pm, when Chris and Hayley arrived and we decided to try and climb the biggest dune. So, coinciding with the roar of the 4pm dune buggy tours heading off into the desert and screams of people on board, we slowly but surely trudged our way up to the top of the dune, where you could really see the oasis-style setting of Huacachina.

Time for a few pics. From the top of the dune we could see just how immense the desert was…

We could also see in the distance the curious pyramid style dunes set in the middle of a town…

We stuck around til the sunset, before the most fun part – running back down the dune!

The next day, at 4pm it was our turn to roar out into the desert on a dune buggy for some sand boarding fun. The dune buggy ride was quite frankly mental.

Like a roller coaster ride – and as most of you know, I’m a wuss on roller coasters. The buggy would speed along at what I think was 200mph, up and down dunes, sand and wind blinding me. But it was when the driver slowed down at the top of a hill you knew it was about to get exciting, for the other side was a near sheer drop that we’d accelerate down. It was pretty exhilarating and I actually began to enjoy it, although my hands hurt from gripping the roll cage so hard.

We visited five dunes for sand boarding. The first three were quite timid as we got used to it, though I stuck to going down on my belly, which seemed faster. I had plenty of fun watching others try and stand though, and subsequently stacking it face first.

The final two dunes were much, MUCH, bigger. On the first, Chris, Hayley and I decided to head down together in a race to the bottom. 3, 2, 1, GO! I got a good start and was flying down faster than before. I thought I had it in the bag, when…WHOOSH!…a flash of yellow rocketed past me at a ridiculous speed. I realised it was Hayley – who had previously moaned about not getting any speed – careering past like an out of control unmanned speedboat. I think out of control wasn’t far off actually as I watched on as she epically came off, reminiscent of a bad F1 crash – rolling sideways down the dune, sunglasses airborne, disappearing into a cloud of sand. It was pretty cool – and, sorry Hayley, hilarious too. She was ok luckily, a little shellshocked and sand covered, but in one piece.

The smaller dunes

The final dune was the biggest yet, with everyone taking turns to head down, cheering each other on. I followed Chris who put in a good effort.

Sandpaper Face

I was doing pretty well til the bumpy section at the bottom where I felt myself slipping forward on the board until I eventually carried out an unintentional yet somewhat stylish arse over tit dismount off the front of the board, finishing sat on my bum with a face full of sand.

I shook my head and turned around to see Hayley’s Comet coming towards me again – again at a rate of knots. I saw the fear in her eyes, but she carried out a purposeful bail this time – less ragdoll-like.

The sun had set now, so it was a nighttime roller coaster buggy ride back to Huacachina, and some pisco sours and a shower to calm down, though I’m still finding sand to this day.

The next day came a final farewell to Hayley and Chris, after 7 weeks of fun adventures and dramas. All the best guys!

One week left in South America – time to head to Chile!

Thanks for reading,

Dan x

Beard Begone

// August 28th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // Peru

This is what happens when I’m left on my own too long. And lock myself in a bathroom for two hours. Weirdo.  

A good healthy beard after the Machu trek

xxxxx

Tagged

De Niro

Erm, caption anyone?

Just Disturbing

The Connoisseur

French Detective

Freddie Mercury

Silence of the Dans

Fart in the Bath

Titler

Follow-through in the bath

The best a Dan can get

Machu Picchu and the Salkantay Trek

// August 19th, 2010 // 5 Comments » // Peru

(use your best boxing match MC internal reading voice for this intro)

Laaaadies and Gentllleemennn,

Welcome to tonight’s main event, and boy do we have a show for you. So, put your hands together and woop til you can’t woop no more for the jaw-dropping, thigh-bursting, blister-enducing, pant-wetting, calf-aching, sheep-slapping, rum-drinking, wind-breaking, not-the-messiah-just-a-very-naughty-boy, sleep-depriving, cheek-biting, heart-stopping, humdinger of a walk…the Five. Day. Salkantay. Trreeeek!

(are you cheering?)

In the Peru corner, weighing in at an Inca-mprehensible jolly heavy mass, the undisputed New 7th Wonder of the World, Machu ‘bless you’ Picchu!

Aaand in the red corner, all the way from Britain’s oldest recorded town, looking nervous, weighing in at too-many-pies, the huffin’, puffin’ pass me a blueberry muffin, Daniel ‘lunger’ Eales.

(You better be cheering now)

Over the top perhaps, but that’s kind of how I’d been viewing the challenge that lay ahead. Three weeks into my trip I saw Iguacu Falls, and now three weeks til I leave South America and I was about to see Machu Picchu – the two big must-see’s of the trip. Machu Picchu. The reason I’d been out trekking, shifting some weight and generally trying to make sure I didn’t embarrass myself in a huffing puffing kinda way. All in all, I was up for this!

Day 1

Infact, I was up for this at 3am on the first day. I was picked up at 4.30am as we drove to a village called Mollepata for breakfast. It turned out there was just three of us on the trek – me and a Dutch couple. But we also had Freddy, our guide, a cook, his helper, a horseman and three horses – although they weren’t all in the car. After breakfast, where a cat peed on my lap, (is that good luck? It wasn’t for the cat when I dropkicked it over the fence) we headed to our start point, Soraypampa - the beautiful scene below.

The snowcap in the distance there is Salkantay Mountain, who’d be watching over us for most of the trek. As you can see, the weather could not have been better for us. After a few stretches we started walking. The two Dutchies had both bought a walking stick each, but I didn’t fancy it and couldn’t find one I liked anyway. You know how it is, you just can’t get the staff! (Whoa, been saving that beauty for 2 months, what a relief).

It was harder than it looks here

The first part of the journey was a gentle uphill slope as we headed towards the mountain. We had a short break before the path zigzagged up a much steeper incline. The altitude wasn’t having too much effect on me, which pleased me. We were at 3,800m, heading up the mountain Umantay, and I was still feeling pretty fit. As we walked we had plenty of time to admire the view behind us of the valley we had just walked and gaze up at Mt. Salkantay, glowing white against the blue sky, wisps of cloud flowing over its peak.

As we rolled over the hill and crossed a stream the scenery began to change from small stony tracks to a flat green field, littered with giant boulders. It always amazes me as I wonder how these rocks got there and what it would have been like to see the moment they came crashing down the mountainside.

I had to move this rock from our path

As we came to the end of the flat area, after 3.5hrs walking we were greeted by the nice surprise of lunch beside Lake Soirococha. My apetite was still lost to the altitude, but I enjoyed our soup, chicken, rice and potatoes. So much that I fell asleep after them. That probably wasn’t a good idea as I felt a bit ropey afterwards as we headed uphill for another hour. I think my body liked being asleep and wanted a full on kip. Sorry old bean, we’ve got places to be.

An hour on, and we’d reached the peak of Umantay (4,600m) in the middle of the Salkantay Pass, with a view of Mt. Salkantay (6,271m). Here we carried out a ritual to thank Apus, (the mountain spirits) for protecting us on our trip by blowing through coca leaves in the direction of four surrounding mountains before adding a stone to the top of a stone pile, which is added to by every trekker that passes. Then we drank a shot of rum.

Post-rum and ritual

We were well and truly in the clouds now, heading back downhill as the mist cleared to reveal a multi-coloured rocky valley with Santa Teresa river in the centre (a river we would follow most of the journey) and cows mooing on the opposite hill.

We made it to our campsite at Huayracmachay (3,750m) just below the snowline on a farm owned by our horseman at 4pm. The rest of the evening went as follows: nap, tea, biscuits, cards, dinner, rum, cards, rum, rum, rum. It was needed, we’d be sleeping at -5° in our tents tonight.

Arriving at our campsite, at the end of day 1

Day 2

Did I say sleeping? I meant shivvering. I managed to doze a little before being awoken by a hot chocolate delivery to my tent at 7am. Breakfast was porridge and pancakes – just what we needed to warm up and get us on our way.

We set off at 8.30am as the sun appeared over the surrounding mountains, making the frosty grass glisten and my decision to wear many-a-layer a bad one (I still don’t have a coat by the way).

Orchids - this one is 'woman's slipper'

The first three hours of trekking were downhill, on a path above the river which flowed down to our right. We could see straight down the valley in both directions, Mt Salkantay at one end, Mt Veronica at the other. The path was taking us through a cloud forest area, so in and out of shaded tree areas. In these sections we were treated to the darting of hummingbirds around us and a variety of different orchids on display. For a minute I thought I was in a Disney film. Then the mozzies came out and I realised maybe Hitchcock was involved. Nibbly buggers.

After a break at 11am, we continued our trek at some pace up and down the bamboo-lined rocky path, pausing to lunge on a bridge over a waterfall before we flattened out again as our path, still above the river, brought us to the end of the valley, and across the way we could see our campsite.

An hour later, after passing a small village, some donkeys and another river we had reached the perfectly picturesque campsite.

Lunch was soup and mackerel with sauce (I knew you were wondering) after which I had a nap, read some, and caught some of the first day’s World Cup games on the radio, in Spanish. eth-eth-eth Anelka, eth eth eth eth, Chris Waddle.

Our football pitch

A little later the five of us guys were invited to join a local kid in a game of football. There was a pitch next to our camp with wooden goalposts and bumpy rock-ridden turf between.

FYI, running around at 3,200m above sea level is not easy. After 30 seconds I thought my heart and lungs were going to burst through my chest. I wasn’t sure I was doing myself any good, but we played on for over an hour, relishing in the chance to go in goal for a bit. After collapsing for a while, the evening went; tea, biscuits, cards, dinner, rum, cards, rum, rum, rum.

Without a light in sight the night was bright with starlight. Twas quite alright. Actually it was stunning, but that doesn’t rhyme.

Day 3

Scary Turkey

We were up, fed and on our way by 8.20am heading downhill closer to the river. The path was ‘undulating’ up and down rocks, through woods of tall trees and into sunny clearings until we came to a break at 10.30am. We were at a shack in the middle of nowhere selling soft drinks and Snickers, seemingly run by an 11yr old girl, a toddler and a puppy, who were playing in the long grass. Disney? I haven’t mentioned the seriously unnerving Hitchcock Turkey yet. Just look at him. Huge. He kept approaching us, ruffling his feathers, fluffing out his neck ruff and gobble-gobbling at us with demonic intent. A manner that said ‘I know what you ate last Christmas’.

Now, before we left Cusco we’d found out that there was due to be a train strike on our 5th day, after Machu, so we may have to wait til our 6th day before heading home. To cut a long story short (HA! He says on the longest web page ever), Freddy heard a rumour that the strike may last 2 days, but couldn’t confirm until we got to Aguas Calientes at the end of our 4th day. With my South America time running out, and the Dutchies only here for 3 weeks, we took the decision to skip day 4, and get to Machu a day early. So, we got on  a mini bus to Santa Teresa and a train to Aguas Calientes.

To cut an even longer story short, that evening it kicked off a bit when we found out there may have been other options other than miss a day, but it all calmed down and we had an evening of dinner, cards, rum, cards, rum, rum, rum.

Day 4 – The Big Day

Up at 3.45am, we were out at 4.15am, putting our torches to use as we joined a steady flow of like-minded early starters heading towards the start point of 1,800 steps up to the Machu Picchu entrance. There was an air of excitement and a feeling of ‘we have one tough task ahead but it’ll be worth it’ as we walked the dark street as the first train of the day exited a tunnel and trundled by like the Polar Express above us.

Then the tough task began as we started up the pitch black staircase, torches lighting the way. The staircase was made of rocks and meandered up the hillside. I suddenly felt pleased that we had skipped a day – the toughest day which would have taken us up and over a mountain, without horses to carry our stuff. It was hard work, thighs bulging to bursting, out of breath and a sweatfest too. By 4.45am I was in shorts and t-shirt, having slowly derobed from a hat, gloves, hoody, jumper, shirt, jeans and legwarmers like a terribly sweaty strip show.

I wasn’t the only one struggling. It was quite a sight as you paused and a steady flow of silhouettes carrying torches passed by, silent but for their wheezing. At one point Freddy and I came across a sobbing American girl who hadn’t been able to keep up with her group. We gave her a pep talk and an energy tablet to keep her going.

5.30am - as knackered as I look

Eventually, by 5.30am we were at the entrance to Machu Picchu. We were within the first 150 people there, which meant we were able to secure a ticket to head up Huayna Picchu later (they only let 400 people up a day).

At 6am, the doors opened and in we went. It was very special seeing Machu at that time, with noone there. The sun wasn’t up yet, but I could see the impressive size of the place, recognising everything from the pictures I had seen. I couldn’t wait to act like a kid on his birthday at the zoo and run around like a lunatic shouting ‘mum, look at this, now look at this, now this’ before eating too much cake and throwing up. But apparently I’m at the age where I can just enjoy a sit down to rest my aching legs. We took a seat on the agricultural terraces while Freddy explained to us the history, myths and meanings of Machu Picchu and the Inca empire. By 7.20am, the sun rose over the mountains and Machu Picchu lit up…time to let the photo’s do the talking….

The postcard shot of Machu Picchu

Sun rising over the mountains and lighting up big MP

Machu from t'other side

One of my favourite things about Machu Picchu is the face hidden in the mountains. Can you see it? Check the picture below if it helps...

The big mountain is his nose, facing to the left. Got it? It even looks like an Inca emperor I think.

Obligatory Lunge

Freddy then gave us a tour of the site, showing us the different areas (for photos see facebook or wait til my return hehe). As much as he could tell us, it is still a general mystery as to why Machu Picchu was abandoned. War? Disease? Just moving home? Who knows! It just adds to its enchantment.

Our tour around the key sites ended at 9.30am so we wolfed down some grub before heading up to the entrance of Huayna Picchu (the face’s nose in the pic). The last climb I plan on doing for a while. It was tough going, but the sight of old folk, fat folk and the tearful American girl from this morning coming back down spurred me on – as well as two American’s behind me discussing the ’soccer’ vs. American Football debate, without knowing anything about ’soccer’. Ugh.

After 45mins climbing steps we reached the first level, but spotted a tunnel between rocks so clambered through inelegantly to face more stairs. Great. I’m definitely buying a bungalow when I grow up.

Chilled out at the top of Huayna Picchu

The stairs lead to huge rocks atop the mountain, and wooden ladders were in place so we could climb on top – to the very highest point of the mountain. And wow, what a view. 360° looking down on a now tiny Macchu Picchu, out to mountains of green and white and the river below. There must have been no more than 20 people up there, relaxing in their accomplishment. Everyone was in good spirits, chatting away, discussing trek stories and generally having a good time - a great atmosphere.

The view from Huayna Picchu - That's Machu Picchu down there

Mini Machu - looking down from Huayna Picchu

One guy tried to jump down from a rock rather than use the nearby ladder. “Are you sure?” I asked as I spotted his intentions. Seconds later he jumped to a crash and scream. Everyone, but me, rushed to check he was alright. Just a damaged pride and grazed elbow. Wally.

After an hour up here soaking up the view and the achievements of the last few days which had me forgetting my aches and pains, we headed back down again. I wanted to look around and investigate more, but the ol’ body just wasn’t up for it. We’d been there for seven hours, so decided to catch a bus (ahhh transport) back to Aguas Calientes and have a beer.

We were booked on a train the next morning, so that evening we played cards, ate dinner and drank rum, for a change.

And my Machu Picchu adventure was over. A trek of incredible views and experiences, putting my body through some tests, and of course seeing Machu Picchu one of the New 7 Wonders of the World, sat up there on top of a mountain in the middle of Peru, mysterious and beautiful. Totally worth every ache.

It felt like the peak of my South American trip, but I had two weeks left to have some fun – I’ll see what I can get up to.

For now, it’s back to Cusco to rest. The taxi driver dropped me off the wrong side of town, so I had to walk back to my hostel. Uphill. Up stairs. Aaargh!

Dan Out xx

p.s. leave me some comments

The Islands, The Lake and The Wardrobe

// August 9th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Peru

So, picture the situation. It’s 2am, you’re on a pitch black night bus and sandwiched next to the window by a big fat snoring Peruvian guy. And you need a wee. Really need a wee. So much so that even though you are achingly tired, you’re too scared to fall asleep in fear of the dreaded puddle-come-warm-sensation in your keks.

As you may have guessed, this happened to me. As far as I could see it, these were the options I had:

1. Adopt the ’straddle’ manouevre and hop to the aisle
2. Go for a diagonal backward dive towards the empty seat behind him
3. Flash the light on and off to try and wake him
4. Prod him til he wakes
5. Pee in his pocket
6. Accept it and hope the next stop had a while-you-wait laundry facility

What would you do? I’ll tell you what I went for later….

Sorry it’s taken so long to get this next thrilling update up and blogged. The pubs in Auckland seem to be getting in the way. But let’s go back in time…

After La Paz and Death Road, I took a bus-boat-bus trip to the second Copacabana of my trip. This one was in Bolivia, not Brazil, and sits near the border with Peru, beside the picturesque Lake Titicaca.

Lake Titicaca, apart from having one of the best names, is one of the world’s highest navigable lakes, sat at 3,811m above sea level. It’s also absolutley huge, with a surface area of around 8,372km² and sits through the border of Bolivia and Peru. It’s 190km long, 80km wide and 284km down at its deepest point.

Got that class?

I arrived in Copacabana in time to meet Chris and Hayley, who still weren’t fed up with me, and headed down to the shore to catch a beautiful sunset over the lake:

I had a bit of a cold coming on (mention manflu and I’ll bite my thumb at you) so went to bed early in my £1.50 a night room – cheapest yet!

The next morning we were up at 8am to catch a boat to Isla Del Sol – the island of the sun. It’s one of the largest in the lake and where Inca’s believed the Sun God was born. The island holds 180 inca ruins – the main attraction for travellers such as we.

The boat dropped us at the northern end of the island, and our plan was to hike our way to the south. Which we did. The altitude made it tough work (which made me nervous for the Machu trek in 2 weeks time) as we crossed down the spine of the island’s rolling hills. My manf…cold was kicking in, but I hardly noticed as we soaked up the perfect weather and incredible views of the vast blue lake, mountains in the far-off, and Isla Del Luna (island of the moon) in between.

We wound our way to Yumani, the southern settlement for naps and pitch black trudges to grab some food, where our waiter was an eleven year old girl.

Day two on de island and our original plan had been to hike to some more Inca ruins, but a concoction of my cold, altitude, laziness and a wrong turn lead us to sit on the beach instead, skimming stones and retiring to a restaurant balcony waiting for our boat home.

The only thing I recall from the boat trip was a lady falling asleep while reading a book, but by leaning straight forward, arms beside her legs, head on her knees. A position that intrigued me and not just because I could see down her top. I don’t think I could get in that position, let alone be comfortable enough to sleep. She awoke soon after when the book fell from her hands with a bang. I quickly looked away, but could sense she was embarrassed.

And so comes to an end my time in Bolivia. All-in-all, chuffing excellent. Even with teh bad spot of luck, it’s still my favourite country so far. Next stop Peru!

We arrived together in Puno, the Lake Titicaca-side town of Peru. We’d managed to book ourselves on a boat trip later that afternoon, so until then I ate cake and napped. Oh yes.

The trip took us through a river between reeds to the famous floating Uros Islands. There’s over 40 of the islands, floating on closely woven reeds with a compost style base, as explained to us by a jolly fellow. (Pic of jolly fellow to follow tomorrow).

There was a real family feel on the island, and after jolly fellow finished his explanation, little old lady (pic to follow) took us on a tour of her house (one room) while cute kid (pic to follow) played in the reeds.

After they tried to sull us their crafty wares (I succumbed) we boarded a banana boat (‘the taxi’ as jolly fellow called it. ha! What a jolly fellow) and were treated to a rendition of local songs by the girls, ending with Twinkle, Twinkle and a ‘hasta la vista baby!’. Odd.

The banana boat trip was uber peaceful, except for Chris forcing a Peruvian boy to count to ten in English for a couple of Peso’s. I’d have done it for one Peso if he’s asked.

After visiting another island and amusing ourselves watching a girl try to catch a playful dog, we boated back to shore through starlit skies and starlit sky-reflecting waters.

The next day it was off to Arequipa. I was sat at the front of the bus – perfect for putting your feet up on the window infront. However, everytime I did so, I noticed out of the corner of my eye the Peruvian chick next to me slowly lift her jumper over her nose. I couldn’t smell them, but I did have a cold. Hmm, how embarrassing. I’m sure it wasn’t a coincidence.

I actually really liked Arequipa, but didn’t do much there really. It had a very nice Plaza, nice streets to roam and I did visit the World of Alpaca’s. Jealous much?

I was there for three days before heading to Cusco. This is the bus journey with the fat man situation. Which option did you go for? The answer is 5). I peed in his pocket.

This bus journey was also my first to be delayed by local strikes. We sat in traffic for 10 hours while 6 water workers sat on some logs in the road. Luckily the bus had a good stock of DVD’s. Unluckily the air con didn’t work with the engine off. Things got a bit sticky, and fat man started to smell like a cowshed.

So, we eventually arrived in Cusco, where I had this beautifully amusing photo taken, and psyched myself up for the epic 5 day trek to Machu Picchu, and the fact I was gonna miss the first England game*.

Until next time keen followers!

Dan x

*Dog knows why.

Death Road!

// July 4th, 2010 // 3 Comments » // Bolivia

Ok, so let’s get straight into the gruesome facts that I know you want to hear…

Since opening as a tourist attraction 15 years ago, 25 tourists and 3 guides have died on Death Road – so nearly 2 people a year perish.

These are facts our guide, Marcello, wouldn’t tell us until we got to the bottom. “Is that in case they change on the way down?” I quipped. Nervous laughter among the group.

A Piece Of Road

Of course Death Road – The World’s Most Dangerous Road had its reputation before us gringos came along. The 40 mile main route between La Paz and Coroico had claimed the lives of many Bolivians – possibly up to 200-300 per year messily met their maker along the route according to some sources. This includes a bus that tumbled off in 1983 killing up to 100 people as it disintegrated on the way down – Bolivia’s worst ever road accident.

It’s not surprising really, the road is but a bus width wide (about 3.2m) most of the way (I’ve no idea how two vehicles are supposed to pass each other), with up to 2,000ft drops off the side. Not to mention tight corners, the road engulfed in cloud and dust and the risk of landslides at any moment. This is one hell of a road!

So, my time to take the challenge started with a pick up from my hostel at 8am on 29th May. Regrettably I was hungover after bumping into Seb (from Salta and Tupiza) in the bar just as I was heading to bed. Plus they were showing the France ‘98 World Cup final on TV. I couldn’t resist.

Safety First, Fashion Last

After a Snickers, a coffee and a piece of cake I was on the mend and beginning to focus on the task at hand. I was a mixture of excited and nervous. Let’s not forget that one of the last times I rode a bike, in January, I fell off and busted my shoulder.

Just 5 weeks ago was the latest death on the road. An Israeli girl was cleaning her goggles as she rode, before losing control and heading off the road. Now, she didn’t head off the big drop, but to the ditch on the right, cracking her head and dying instantly. Jinkies!

There were 7 of us in our group; me, Chris, Hayley, 2 Leeds lads and an Irish couple. We also had Marcello our guide upfront and a man known only as ‘Paparazzi’ who would be taking pics of us on the way, so we could keep our hands on the bars. (Didn’t stop Seb from waving when he did it a week ago and subsequently heading over the handle bars). Twas not a day for cockiness.

Anyway, we got our sexy safety gear on, had a quick safety briefing and got on our bikes. The first part of the day was on a newer part of road, fully tarmacked – making it very fast! Not much pedalling was required as we zoomed down the hill into the valley. There were magnificent views of the road winding down the hill ahead of us, between mountain into the distance.

View from the top of the tarmac section

Unfortunately I didn’t have much time to enjoy them, keeping my eyes firmly on the road, while following the Irish guy. Turns out he was quite the twonk, skidding needlessly at any opportunity like an annoying cocky 11yr old kid. Even on straights he would whack on the brakes and wobble all over the place, scaring the bejangles out of Marcello and making me nervous incase he fell off and took me with him. Although I really wanted him to fall off.

At the bottom of the tarmac section (after 40-60mins of riding) the rest of the group had a little mothers meeting declaring him an idiot and nicknaming him Billy The Skid (or Skidmark).

So, first section completed, we piled back into the van for a short drive to the start of the Death Road proper.

Last year two people died on the same corner of Death Road – including one Englishman. As with many people who take a tumble, he died during the rescue operation. The guides just can’t carry the equipment needed for a fast rescue, so by the time communication is made and a helicopter has got to them, it is often too late.

So, here we were at the top of Death Road, surrounded by clouds and itching to get going. After another safety talk, the itch was scratched and we were off.

The road itself is pretty damn bumpy, with two tracks left by car tyres and a very bumpy section between them – the cause of most of my wobbles when I’d get stuck on it. Beside us to the right was a solid wall of cliff, with the odd shower of waterfall spraying down between trees and vines. To our left, some sort of cliff edge. You couldn’t really make out the true drop due to the cloud, but it was safe to say it was a biggie. Straight ahead, you’d get a glimpse of the road winding in and out of coves before disappearing around another mysteriously cloudy corner. It was great, and beautiful.

We would stop at regular intervals for photos, silly photos and a quick briefing on the dodgy dangers coming up.

The Evolution of Revolution

One of the coolest stops was the famous ‘balcony’ where the real danger can clearly be seen:

The Balcony

There are plenty of shrines dotted along the roadside, emphasising the danger on the way down. In fact, these are the reason one tour guide died:

One paparazzi guide died when he stopped on his bike near the cliff edge to take a photo of a shrine on the inside edge. Unfortunately he lost his balance and he, with bike, toppled backwards over said edge. He was a friend of Marcello’s who was also working that day and relayed how horrible it was…tourists tears etc. You can only imagine.

Now, one of the many dangers to tourists cycling the road is the vehicles still using it as a thoroughfare. However, we were slightly lucky as there had been a landslide just a couple of days before, meaning vehicles couldn’t pass. It also meant, after the ride we wouldn’t have to come back up in the van – which probably would have been scarier than cycling. We stopped near the landslide for lunch on a sharp curve, watching other groups pass. There were a few shaky and scary moments for a few of their riders I can tell you. I’m not sure how some made it around, just inches from the edge. Yikes!

Landslide

The landslide inhibited us from cycling by, so we threw our bikes onto our shoulders and clambered over. 20mins down the road and we began to emerge from the cloud into sunshine. The road started to get a bit faster, or maybe I was just growing in confidence – not necessarily a good thing. At one point the two Leeds lads were in the zone and hurtled past, and I couldn’t see why I couldn’t keep up with them. Then it became apparent as I wobbled onto the middle section and bumped across towards the inner edge, brakes squeaking and legs flailing. I gave myself a little talking to. You can see how easily it might be to get too cocky and come a cropper. I am pretty sure most people who have died did so by being cocky or mucking around.

Here’s an odd fact from Marcello. Of the 25 tourists to die, most have been the sole person from their country. However, 10 Israeli’s have died. I’ll hold back on my comments there! But needless to say, it is often because they have been careless, taking photo’s, pushing each other etc.

Our group escaped anything too drastic, although the Irish lass managed to fall off when she slipped into the ditch at low speed. Not that Billy the Skid knew or even cared. Nobber.

Lance Armstrong never looked this good.

Perhaps the biggest close call was Chris, who with a dodgy back brake pretty much went straight on at a corner with me behind him. Feet scraping the ground, brake squealing, he was lucky to find a thick section of grass and some stray rocks to slow him. “Bloody Hell Chris” I exclaimed agog as I flew past. It really could’ve been a lot worse!

So, by now we were into our final fling, heading down flatter but faster roads, swallowing flies, headbutting butterflies and wrists aching from holding on so tight and being shaken around like a ride on a washing machine. They didn’t cover off ‘early signs of arthritis’ on our insurance disclaimer we signed before setting off. A form that basically said ‘if you die it’s because you didn’t do what we told you.’

So that was that. I’m not sure I’ve gotten across just how exhilarating the day had been. Effectively risking life, careering down the World’s Most Dangerous Road, surrounded by clouds, Bolivia’s lush scenery, wind in the hair, dust up the nose and the odd scare to get the adrenaline pumping. Absolutely awesome.

And now I can proudly wear my free t-shirt – ‘Survivor of the World’s Most Dangerous Road’

Yeeeeaaaaa Bwwwooyyy!

Dan x

Condors and Che Guevara

// June 15th, 2010 // No Comments » // Bolivia

♫ Oh Santa Cruz, you know there’s not much there ♫

Ref: The Thrills song from 2002 – remember it?

So, there wasn’t much to see in Santa Cruz, so the day after arriving I checked out of my hostel and walked across town to take a 3hr taxi for £3.50 to Samaipata. This was a shared taxi with 4 of us on board (they only leave when they have 4 people). I was sat next to two Poles and a Belgian girl. They were actually poles, belonging to a local guy and resting on my shoulder, cracking me on the bonce at every bump.

Brekkie

The Belgian was a true hippy and has been doing the real travelling lark – busking for money, living in trees, working in the bush.

She had a bush under each arm too. Ew.

I arrived safely at a hostel with the promise of a goodbye hug and the ‘best breakfast in Bolivia’. They didn’t lie. Burritos, fruit, pancakes, bacon, eggs…it was all there. Within one hour of arriving, I had signed up for two tours – The Condor Trek and The Che Guevara Trail…

Sun Rising through the Clouds

The Condor Trek
I went on the trek with Chris & Hayley (you may remember them from such adventures as ‘Mr Hugo’s wine tour’, ‘Silly photo’s on the salt flats’ and ‘Here we go round the mulberry bush’. We dragged ourselves out of bed at 4.30am for our guide, Rodolfo, to drive us up a stupidly bump road (Chris had to say hello again to his best breakfast in Bolivia) until we reached our trek start point at 6.30am. And off we set, into the clouds, up through the hills as the sun rose in the distance. We got the feeling that Rodolfo is a very different tour guide – and a very good one. We were definitely off the beaten track as we passed under barbed wire fences, over piles of wood that were clearly there to stop us and along foot-wide paths hugging the sides of hills. Rodolfo warned us not to step on the grass on the outside as there was nothing but a many-metre drop below it – moments before putting his own foot through it and nearly tumbling off into oblivion. The whole situation seemed very exciting and special to me.
We arrived at our condor spotting viewpoint at 10.30am – and what a viewpoint, although I wasn’t holding out much hope of seeing any condors.

After perhaps one hour, Rodolfo with binoculars to sockets began to get excited. And sure enough, soaring between mountains in the distance came Egbert the condor. In fact, he soared right past us. I got some great pictures that I hope a thieving son of a biscuit is enjoying.

I spy a tit.

We managed to see quite a few in the end, including one bathing in a waterfall. We found it amusing to mock another group of people in an inferior position, nosing at them through binoculars when we realised they all seemed to be looking at something near us. By the time we clocked it, a condor had flown right past us – the closest yet. Lesson learnt.

We stayed about 2 hours before a long trek downhill, and a drive to a waterfall. On the way home we stopped to admire a tarantula in the middle of the road. Well, us gringo’s admired it, Rodolfo poked and taunted it with a branch.

An Artists Impression of Dan's Masterpiece

It reared onto its hind legs into attack mode, and I know I keep going on about it, but this is when I got right in close and took an amazing photo – my best ever.

Lost to the thief. Here is an artists impression of the photo.

The Che Guevara Trail

The next day was a more respectable 6am start (!) as we began a two day Che Guevara Trail. I have to admit, I didn’t know much about Che other than the Motorcycle Diaries, but now having done the tour and read his Bolivian Diary, I know (almost) everything about his last year, and the weeks after his death.

We kind of visited landmarks backwards, but here’s a quick round up of the tour and Che’s last few days etc.

Che found his way into Bolivia using this genius disguise and passport in November 1966. He had been in Bolivia for 11 months by October 7th 1967, during which time he had been forming a guerilla force and traveling through the wilderness setting up camps, recruiting new members and having skirmishes with the Bolivian army. He had lost a few men, but inflicted more damage on the army.

Star where Che surrendered

However, on August 31st, the whole second half of his guerilla team, who had split off to another area, were ambushed and killed.

From there on the army seemed to grow in strength (quite possibly due to leaked information from deserters and peasants) and by October 7th 1967, his last diary entry, his group had been surrounded.

Che and a handful of others made a break for it, but were caught not far away when Che took a bullet to his leg, and when taking cover behind the rock pictured, also took a bullet to his gun, putting it out of action. He surrendered on the star that is shown.

Schoolroom where Che, Chino and Willy were executed

From here the soldiers marched Che and his two remaining campañeros Chino and Willy up to the village of La Higuera. We walked the same path, and it was pretty tough going – and that’s without a bullet in my leg.

Along the walk, I was picturing what must have been going through his mind.

Well, he was a prisoner of war, so was probably expecting to be taken away for questioning.

First he was placed in a classroom at the local school, separate from Willy and Chino.

The laundry room where Che's body was shown to the world

Then, on October 9th 1967, an order came through to the general (possibly from the US CIA according to Che’s good friend Fidel Castro) for the 3 guerillas to be killed. A soldier was nominated and asking no questions, entered each classroom and gunned down Che, Chino and Willy. It was reported that they had died in combat.

The three bodies were flown by helicopter to the nearby town of Vallegrande, and taken to the laundry room at the hospital.

Here, Che’s body was cleaned and lay on the sink section, and displayed to the world to show he had been killed (while the other two laid bloodied on the floor).

The public were invited in to have their picture taken with him – quite spooky as his head was lifted and his eyes were open.

Che and Chino's bodies on display

After this, his body was placed in an unmarked grave – which was uncovered in 1997 beneath the airpot, and flown to Cuba.

In his diary, just 4 months before this on June 14th he had written:

“I turned 39 today and am inevitably approaching the age when I need to consider my future as a guerilla, but for now I am still ‘in one piece’.”

So, briefly that was our tour. Somewhat morbid, but pretty interesting. In the middle we camped in the hills, setting a campfire while Rodolfo prepared some of the best bbq chicken I have ever tasted.

Another highlight, at least for the Dutch fellow with us, was when I stepped out the jeep straight into a fresh cow pat.

After a couple of lazy days, I headed off with Chris & Hayley to Cochabamba, which included heading 3 hours in the wrong direction (on purpose) to Santa Cruz to catch our bus. We were taken in another taxi, driven by a man who had gone a bit wrong I think.

We arrived in Cochabamba at 6am the next day, and after a coffee decided to not get a hostel, but book a bus to La Paz for that night. So we stored our backpacks at the station and set off wandering the town, eating ice cream and admiring the retro buses.
We also made it up to their Christ statue, which is 1 inch bigger than Rio’s with no clouds and no scaffolding! Got my clear Jesus lunge after all.

By the time we got back to the station for our bus at 11.30pm, we were falling asleep on our feet. I slept the best I ever have on a bus, which was bad timing.

I was woken at 6am by Chris searching for his camera. I assumed it was in his bag – this is a guy who on the way to Cochabamba got his arm stuck between the seats trying to reach a Snickers.
Then I went in my bag for a drink, which was at the bottom where my camera normally sat. Bugger!

Enough camera moaning, we were in La Paz…and I’ll continue this yarn soon!

Hope you’re all sexy good,

Dan x

Camera Stealin’ Blues

// June 9th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // Bolivia

Aloha!

As you’re all probably aware, my pride and joy (Canon SLR Camera) was stolen in Bolivia…as I’d been listening to a bit of blues, and keep promising I’ll pick up my harmonica and play some myself, I thought what better way to blog about it than in blues fashion. And a promise that I’ll play you the live version on my return! (Gulp)

I was hoping to find individual sound clips for this, but just watch the bald man play and fill in the do be doo’s yourself

♫do do doo do♫
My camera was stolen,
♫do do doo do♫
While I was sleeping,
♫do do doo do♫
Just happy dreamin’
♫do do doo do♫
While some b@$/@®d was-a-thievin’

♫doo doo do doo♫
Woke up in the mornin’
♫doo doo do doo♫
The camera was gone.
♫do do doo do♫
If I met him again
♫do do doo do♫
I’d snatch it back…

♫doo doo do dooooo doo doo do doo♫
And snap his neck
♫do do doo do♫…. ♫do do doo do♫
(spoken) And not with the camera…you know what I mean

I did lose some photo’s…and possibly the best photo I have ever taken (dammit!) but luckily had been backing up most of my pics, so not too disastrous. Most annoying is that I now don’t have it for some awesome places, including Machu Picchu. Hopefully can claim on the insurance and get a new one n New Zealand.

I’m getting a bit behind on my activity blogs, but will get myself up to date soon!

Hope all is well in the motherland,

Dan x

p.s. here’s some proper blues:

Salar de Uyuni Tour

// May 28th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Bolivia

Okay so here is the score,
I’m trying to not be a bore,
So have decided to rhyme,
Some of my time,
Spent on a four day jeep tour.

It seemed the best way to keep you interested as I harp on about four days of sights, scenery and silly stories.
The tour from Tupiza to Uyuni was to take us through three days of sights, ending at the ‘hallucinogenic’ Salar de Uyuni salt flats..

Day 1

At 10am we boarded the jeep,
That’s Chris, Hayley and Amardeep,
Plus Jasper and me,
Santos and Archie,
Our guide who was often asleep.

We headed off uphill into the mountains as Archie filled us in on the story of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid who spent time in the area at ranches and robbing banks etc. Their famous last stand was at San Vicente nearby.

We stopped off at the top of the hill to admire the view. We were above a dried up river, which in wet season flows down to meet Iguacu Falls. It was at this stop our jeep broke down – about an hour into the trip. We amused ourselves by throwing rocks at cacti. A second jeep of people travelling with us joined in too. I think everyone hit the cactus we aimed for…except me. Seriosuly frustrating my competitive streak. I was still furiously throwing stones as the jeep restarted and everyone was back on board.
I admitted defeat and we set off again down the bumpy tracks through the hills.

One thing I’ve learnt to not do again:
Pick my nose in a jeep on rough terrain.
Because one big bump,
Or an unexpected hump,
And you end up picking your brain.

Eventually we arrived at a small town for lunch. I say a town, it was about 20 buildings spread either side of a dry river.
“What do the people do here? There is nothing!” Amardeep exclaimed.
“They throw stones” I responded. “They throw them all over there,” pointing 20m away, “then go over there and throw them all back”.
It seriously sounded like the most fun game going here.

The rest of the day was mostly spent in the jeep, barring toilet stops. We drank water to alleviate the effects of altitude, but this meant that every 20 minutes someone from either jeep would hop out and run behind a wall/bush/big stone to relieve themselves. It was a vicious circle.

However, it is by far the most awe inspiring landscape I have peed in. The mountains make you feel tiny – although that could have been the cold wind.

That evening we arrived at San Antonio de Lipez – a town with 250 inhabitants (most towns that day had had 50-150). We were at 4260m above sea level…and it was freeeezing! We kept ourselves warm with tea, biscuits and cards. This was with the other jeep of 5 too – Kelsey, Julie, Kate, Laura and Alex.

That night was the most amazing starlit sky I have ever seen. A blanket of stars from horizon to horizon, with no artificial light in sight to ruin it. At that height I felt I could reach out and grab them. But, bed was calling.

Our room, little more than a hut,
Was so cold I was numb to my butt.
Light there was nowt,
So I couldn’t work out,
If my eyes were open or shut.

Day 2

For some reason none of the group slept for long that night. Possibly the altitude, possibly the 4.30am start! This was to be the longest day of the trip, with an astounding number of sights.

First off, we headed to the old colonial and long abandoned town of San Antonio. As we walked into the town we startled a llama.

Yes we managed to alarm a llama,
If only he had of been calmer,
Instead there was drama,
Though we’d never harm a
Llama that belonged to a farmer.

Especially if he was a charmer. Anyway, the animal bolted over a wall in comical fashion and our tour of the town continued.

Our next stop was at 4855m where we had a snowball fight and moved on to the National Park. At the park entrance we thought it would be wise to have a kickabout. Out came the ball and 20 seconds later we were all doubled over trying to catch our breath. The effects of the altitude, I’m sure I hadn’t suddenly become that unfit. We stuck with it a little longer, then hobbled back to the jeep and set off for some lakes.

At the first lake I got completly distracted by an old jeep, as my new found derelict vehicle obsession continued.

Next stop was Rio Amalgo, where we indulged in some hot springs, bathing until we had to get out before magnesium poisoning set in. Note to self, and you lot, don’t get out the water too quickly at that altitude. A few of us had dizzy spells. I’m sure plenty of people have gone bum over tit back into the water doing the same.

After lunch here, we headed through scenery of desert, mountains and volcanoes to Laguna Verde – the Green Lake. It’s colour caused by the high levels of magnesium and arsenic.

Our final stop of the day was the geothermic Sol de Mañana at 5000m, Here over 1km² of geysers steam and bubble like the bog of eternal stench. And there was a stench too. Eggy. It really did look like another planet, especially when using a Sepia setting….

I met some geysers the other day,
Who smelt and smoked and took me away,
On a red planet vacation
With SNES and Playstation.
Because Mars helps you work, rest and play.

That night we brought out the cards again and played until the log burner smoked us out.

Day 3.

Up at a more respectable 7am today. After breakfast of pancakes (and a short game of pancake frisbee) we made our way to Laguna Colarada – the Red Lake. This one is so coloured due to pigments of algae that are released in the suns warmth. It’s a hotspot for flamingos too.

After 30 minutes it was time for us to flamin’ go to Desierto de Siloli, some crazy rock formations, not disimilar to Brimham Rocks up Yorkshire way (go if you haven’t been). Created by volcanoes and sandy winds eroding their bases, the rocks are begging to be climbed…so I did…

…This story starts well but only gets sadder,
My face was happy but soon I just had a,
Tear and a frown,
Cos I couldn’t get down,
Will someone please fetch me a ladder?

From here we headed north, towards a collection of 5 lakes, labelled by Archie as the Britney Spears lakes. Not because they’ve dried up revealing the trash beneath, but because they are toxic.

There are also signs around encouraging you to not make the lakes more toxic…

The ‘don’t pee’ signs were too big to miss,
But I’d had so much water I couldn’t resist,
Then a gust of wind blew,
And I filled up my shoe,
Now that really does take the p…mickey.

After crossing a desert we arrived at one of two (i believe) active volcanoes in Bolivia. This one was clearly smoking and was surrounded by interesting rock formations…

Surfing Rocks!

Our hostel this night was built from salt – salt beds, salt walls, salt tables and salt stools. Quite different, but I took it with a pinch of salt. Apparently they don’t normally build with salt, it’s just for the benefit of us travellers. I didn’t mind, I took it as a condiment. Enough.

Day 4

Today was the day we’d all been waiting for – our trip to the world’s biggest salt flat.

We set off at 6am to catch the sun rise over the flats, which was a beautiful moment as the enormity of the place comes into view. The flats, incredibly once a lake, are 10,500km² in size. That’s something like 10 times the size of Hong Kong city.

After the sunrise, we stopped at one of 14 islands amid the flats, full of cacti up to 12m tall. This time there were too many to throw stones at.
After breakfast,it was the moment we’d been waiting for – to head into the flats and take silly photos! We had been racking our brains for days on what to do, and were still a little stumped…but happy with the outcomes…

Well done if you’ve made it this far! That was a brief round up of four days thoroughly well spent. To really get a picture of the gorgeous landscapes, check out the pics on facebook.

Catch ya laters mashed potatas,

Dan x

p.s. comment away!

Blown Away by Bolivia

// May 25th, 2010 // No Comments » // Bolivia

Did you know Bolivian girls don’t have bums? Disappointing.

Nevertheless, as the title suggests, Bolivia has so far whisked me away with its beauty. For a country that is South America’s poorest, I’ve been surprised to find the people happy, welcoming and with a good sense of humour. This, coupled with outstanding scenery currently places Bolivia as my favourite country so far.
Oh, and I’ll also give a shout out to the £1.80 three course meal I had on my first day here.

My first sight of the incredible scenery came on a horseriding tour from Tupiza. Oh yes, a three hour horseriding tour. Luckily the horses were quite tame, probably because they grazed in a rubbish tip. After inelegantly clambering aboard, we (that’s me, Chris, Hayley, Amardeep and Jasper) trotted off into the valleys.

I´ll POP A PIC OF ME ON A HORSE HERE SOON

The mountains in the area are various shapes and colours, from red to grey to green. I was busy up front admiring this while Amardeep’s horse behind tried to take chunks out of the other horses. And talking of his horse’s behind, the one time he did pass me he also passed wind at an almighty force. I nearly fell off my horse, but through laughter not the gust.

The next 4 days of my trip were spent on a jeep tour from Tupiza to the Uyuni salt flats. It’s an entire blog in itself, so I’ll update you another time. Lucky people.

After the tour, the group had gained 5 members, but lost Amerdeep who returned to Argentina. We all treated ourselves to pizza’s at a place called MinuteMan in Uyuni. Cracking pizza’s, plus I think we dined with the cast of the new Butch Cassidy film.

The next morning the 9 of us headed north to Potosi, the world’s highest city at around 4060m above sea level. Here, in fact, on the way I started to feel the effects of the altitude. So much so, when the bus stopped I had to call Huey on the big white telephone…with the telephone being a bush beside the road.

I was still feeling the effects in Potosi, so much that I had to miss out on a tour to the Potosi mines which I had been particularly looking forward to. Those who went confirmed that the experience is dangerous, eye opening and unforgettable. This was backed up further when I watched the documentary ´The Devil’s Miner’ in Sucre a couple of days later. Watch it if you can.

The journey to Sucre was much more pleasant – and just 3 hours. The worst thing I find about these journeys is trying to describe just how jawdropping the scenery is to you guys on here. Photo’s can’t capture it, and I’m pretty sure my prose won’t either. But it’s not just the scenery that wows me. It’s the little snapshots of life you catch as the bus trundles by….farmers walking their bulls, children pausing simple games to watch us pass, a lady fighting her shawl as she runs through a field…a man carrying a sheep on his back. So, you’ll just have to believe me…its stunning. My face is glued to the window most of the way.

Back to Sucre, and I really liked this city (one of Bolivia’s two capitals…greedy tykes) without doing too much except walk the town, eat and play ping pong. The highlight of the stay was a night out after the 9 of us arrived. A good ol’ drinking session, my first since Buenos Aires 7 weeks ago. To top it all, the morning hangover was soothed with a full English breakfast and the FA Cup Final. Bisto!

Later that day, we also went to a local football match, full of drama. At first, the floodlights failed, then a storm grew close, flashing huge forks across the sky (creating the biggest scream of the match), a torrent of rain which drove everyone to the back of the stand, 4 goals (each received with a rather polite round of applause from the crowd), a sending off and a should-be-a-sending-off-that’s-two-yellows-are-you-Graham-Poll-ref? incident.

I’m writing this update from a very Brazilian Santa Cruz, where not a lot is happening, although a Bolivian called Wilson (named after Woodrow Wilson, but his Dad forgot the Woodrow bit at crunch time) told me this is where Miss Bolivia always comes from. She clearly never has a bum.

Wilson also confessed to me, after we joked that he is named after a football in Castaway, and I’d told him I worked for a magazine publisher that although he is subscribed to Nat Geo and Newsweek he really would like to work for Playboy. Wouldn’t we all, I said.

By the way, my current hostel has a pet toucan and two ducks wandering around the place. And tomorrow’s hostel gives out free hugs to travellers.

Sweet.

’til next time,

Dan x

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow…(to Bolivia)

// May 5th, 2010 // No Comments » // Argentina

Disappointing news ‘fro fans – I’ve had the chop.

Even though a US guy approached me asking “do you play saxophone?” purely based on my haircut, after much deliberation (or to-ing and ‘fro-ing ) I decided I couldn’t bear the mess any longer. Maybe I’ll try growing the beard instead.

Since my last update I’ve visited 3 cities; Mendoza, Cordoba and Salta. It has been quite odd returning to a hustling, bustling environment after a month spent in quiet, mountain-surrounded towns. Luckily, they have been 3 really interesting places.

The highlight in Mendoza, Argentina’s wine region with hundrends of wineries, was a bike tour of 5 wineries with Ido (Israel) and Chris & Hayley (Milton Keynes). We rented our bikes from Mr Hugo, who seems to be gaining quite a cult status among travellers (possibly because of the free wine he dishes out when you safely return his bikes). As you can see from his website, he’s a big fan of the ‘thumbs up’ pose, so I was mighty glad to get a pic of him and me adopting the position…

Mr Hugo and me...I only have one thumb up.

The day was really enjoyable, cycling next to vineyards in the sunshine, stopping now and then for a tour and wine tasting. And these weren’t swill-it-and-spit-it tastings, but sip-it-and-swallow.

Ido provided most of the comedy for the day. Determined to just get drunk, and not really interested in the tastings, or even red wine (the main wine) he became more and more restless as the day wore on. Especially when a French ‘connoisseur’ claimed a taster was ‘too aggressive oin his pallette’. I thought Ido was going to get aggressive on his pallette.

He was happy at one stop where, when others chose liquors of chocolate and hazelnut or rose petal to taste, I joined him in a taster of 75% proof Absinthe. I can still feel the burn.

Ido, Chris, Drunk and Hayley

Perhaps the highlight of Ido’s comedy was when we stopped for lunch. We were given a tour of the winery and were then able to select a glass of wine of our choice to drink over the meal. Sweet-toothed Ido wanted a sweet tasting wine, and after trying a few testers, selected a bottle of Fanta from the fridge – which definitely offended and confused the tour guide. So, six of us sat at a table, with six wine glasses, filled with white or deep red wine…except one, which glowed an unnatural orange.

Cordoba and Salta have both been surprisingly modern cities, mixed with some impressive older architecture.  Rather than splash out on tours etc, I’ve taken it easy and stuck to more traditional tourist activities i.e. taking photo’s of big buildings and eating whopping ice creams.

Cordoba in particular impressed me. The new area of town is very hip and happening – probably due to the seven (7) universities close by. I spent two days in the city, one of which was a national holiday, the other a Sunday, so I saw the city at its quietest, which was nice.

Salta is much lower in skyline, with equally impressive buildings and a mountain/hill overlooking the city which I ascended in a cable car to see the impressive views from the top.

Old building in Salta

Modern building in Cordoba

Pop back when you can to see how I’m getting on!

Toodle-loo,

Dan x