Tracing the Incas' steps

After leaving the Peruvian Town of Arequipa (a very uneventful adventure, so I'll leave it out) at 21:30 on Sunday the 17th of May, we arrived at the ancient Incan capital of Cusco the following morning at 07:30. The four of us (William, Adrian and Troy - a new Australian friend aquired in Arequipa) wasted no time in booking into the Wild Rover hostel. Our third and final Wild Rover. This of course meant that I had qualified myself to become a part of one of the most elite societies on earth - one who has successfully navigated and survived all 3 Wild Rovers. I received a tshirt to commemorate my success. An even more significant piece of news was that the BritsBrothers and the Australian trio would be rolling into town tonight after their 5day arduous trek to Machupicchu -the lost city of the Incas. Frederick Newton however informed me that they will only be arriving at 2am - to long a time to wait and stay awake to welcome them. All of us retired early that night.

The next day all of us, totalling 11, went to the Incan museum together. It was interesting enough - it is clear that the Incans were very fond of masonry work as well as not bothering to write down instuctions how to replicate the extraordinary masonry work! Freddie and I finished first and went to sit on the steps of the cathedral where we were approached by no less than 22 hawkers trying to sell us their wares. We got up and left after about 15min. That night we celebrated our reunion at the Wild Rover bar. Once again marked by dancing topless on the bar and crowd surfing.

Wednesday saw us a little more timid. We spent the day lounging and exploring Cusco's large local market. We had a meal there which cost us R24. This included diced beef stew, rice, fries, salsa and half an avocado! Value you'd be hard pressed to beat at home! I also got bamboozled into paying approximately R60 for a shoeshine! But that's to be expected if you do not settle on a price beforehand... We also started scoping around for a tour company who would take us to Machupicchu for the best price, but we couldn't locate one within our price range. We decided it be best if left for another day and celebrated our decision over a couple of beers...

A couple of beers later on Thursday, we finally got round to go see some better priced tour guides. We found one who for $180 would give us 4days, meals, accommodation, transportation, a guide, white water rafting, mountain biking and ziplining all inclusive. They would be picking us up at 07:30 the next morning. Today was also the day that I would be saying goodbye to the BritsBrothers for the foreseeable future, as we would not be meeting up again before I leave to Turkey end of June. It was quite an emotional day as they said goodbye to Chriswell as well - one of the Australian trio. We had one last big night in the Wild Rover's bar, including bit not limited to:
1. Singing Katy Perry's 'Firework' at the top of our lungs.
2. Telling off an annoying american girl who tried to impeach on our moment
3. Hugging numerous times
They were kicked out at 3am to go back to their hostel. Great night.

Friday. By 07:45 we were alreay on our way to our first destination on our 4day trek. We stopped at the top of a 4100m pass and were handed mountain bikes and disturbingly inadequate protective gear... I only did half before realising that I was going to kill myself. I had had to little sleep and wasn't concentrating on the road. I got off and proceeded the rest of the way in the van. The afternoon we did the white water rafting, which was pretty average considering my previous two experiences were on the mighty Zambizee and Nile rivers. Both of which consisted of grade 4 and 5 rapids. This river only had 2's and 3's...

Saturday = trek day. We did a 22km hike along the famous Inka trail. A road in the mountainside that the Incans built for their messengers to carry news to neighbouring regions. Along the way our guide proudly told us of how advanced the incas were and how they had knowledge about penicillin long before the Europeans did. One can only wonder how about 90% were killed off by spanish bacteria based diseases. Everybody lived in an equal society as well, never mind the human sacrifices and builder slaves used to build their cities. Nobody felt the need to correct him of course. Along the way we crossed the river in a locally operated pully system platform. We ended the day at a hot spring close to the town we would be staying that night. Heavenly.

Sunday = Funday. We started the day off with ziplining across the canyon we have been hiking up. It was really fun and we did a total of 5 zips, with the lines crossing the canyon in a Zigzag fashion. After that we got on a bus to a Hidro electric plant where we continued on foot for 3hrs to Aguas Calentes. The town at the foot of Machupicchu. The walk along the traintracks is mind bogglingly beautiful.  You hike through a rainforest with mountains towering above you. The town itself is no less of a wonder and was reffered to many times as having a similar feel to it as a ski resort would. On top of that it wasn't nearly as expensive as we thought it would be - with a litre beer costing a measly R32 at the shop? We had a three course meal that night at quite a posh restaurant, including a starter, a soup and a main course. There the guide told us that tomorrow we had to get up at 03:45 if we hoped to be first at the first check point leading up the 1600 Incan steps to Machupicchu... tomorrow was going to be a hard day. We went to bed early at 10pm

Monday. At 04:15 we qued outside the firat check point, almost at the very front, at the base of the mountain. There was that electric feel you get before any kind of race as everybody wanted to get up there first. At 5am the gates opened and we were off. After about 10min of climbing I horribly lost the track and started off on the gravel road the busses use to get up there. After about 500m I concluded that this could not possibly be the right way and doubled back to were I lost the steps. I found myself way behind my friends and did the rest of the climb in technical solitude. If not for my phone's music blaring in my ears I probably wouldn't have made it. Climbing 1600 steps ALL THE WAY without pieces of flats in between is excruciating. The hike was worth it though as I made it up there just before the first busses arrived at the top. We went into the excavation site and took many photos and saw many exceptional masonry works. And would you have guessed it - more steps, the Incans' favourite way of getting anywhere.

First Impressions

After we finished the Isla del sol and Copacabana, we moved across the border and into Peru. The next major town we came across is called Puno and is wholely uninteresting appart from its one and only tourist attracion - the floating islands of Uros. Will and I speculated that these islands must have come into existence to escape and flee from the Spaniards - a very popular Incan activity back in the day. We were later corrected by the tour guide - the first of these islands came to be to apparently escape the Incan bureaucracy. Good old tax evasion at its finest.

In any event, on our bus ride to Puno we met a Peruvian fella named Fernando - a self employed tour organizer. He told us he could get us to the islands and back for a meagre 28soles each (1 sole equals almost R4), but that we would have to pay the families of the islands ourselves for food and accommodation - which would not be more than 30 soles each, for dinner, bed and breakfast included. He was very professional and organized and through him be also booked our 6hour bus trip the next day to Arequipa for 40 soles each. All the while we (or at least I) got a 'something is not quite right' feeling from this Fernando fellow, but it was all quickly dispelled by te smooth sailing and organization we experienced till we got to the islands. There the tour guide (actual tour guide, not Fernando) told us that these islands are built and float on the rootsystems of a water based grass or reed and that each island can 'live' for up to 30 years before they have to replace the floating root system that keeps it afloat.

We were the only Gringos (South American slang for Tourists) who wanted to stay for the night. It was at this point that we were introduced to a man whose name who I have expelled from my memory for fear of succumbing to pure dispisal and loathing. There are few things in this life which I despise more than people cheating me while there is nothing I can do about it. As soon as out boat pulled away this slimy man infromed us that accommodation would be 30 soles, but that dinner and breakfeast would be an additional 33 SOLES!? I was immensely close to jumping back in the water and swimming after the boat. Either that or actively fasting to to give this greedy man the biggest middle finger of his wretched life. We payed. Dinner was a measly and ill looking trout with undercooked rice and at breakfeast we were treated to coffee and ONE slice of toast with ONE egg.

When we got back to the main land Will and I tried our very best to get our 33 soles money back from Fernando, but he said he was very sorry but that there was nothing he could do about it. The tour companies do not work in conjunction with the islanders. He called up the greediest man on earth, yelled at him and told us to write the island a bad review on the internet. Which I did. No one actively cheats me out of money, with my knowledge and has the last say. I went through the trouble of Signing up for tripadvisor and wrote my first ever review filled with all the bile and fury I could muster, which was significant.

Fernando however would have one final weasely trick/con to play on us before we left. For his final swan song he actually booked us on the most local bus he could find (undoubtedly pocketing at least 15 of the 40 soles we payed him). The bus was jammed packed with locals, had no ventilation and was, and this is the best part, leaking rainwater into the compartment and onto my right shoulder. I spent 2 of the 6 hour bus in a rain jacket. Señor Fernando didn't even have the decency to put us in seats which had actual leg space, never mind room. He put us right at the front of the bus were we spent a cramped 6hrs wondering if our legs would still retain their functionality. Poor Will and Ad, both of them are 193 and 195cm respectively.

We finnaly got to Arequipa and booked into our 2nd Wild Rover hostal

Bolivian Wildfire

LaPaz went by in a blaze. On my and Will's first night we had a reunion with the fabled and mythic Brits brothers and their Australian counterparts. We had a very heartfelt and toasty reunion at 'The English' pub in LaPaz. They had also booked us in with them on the infamous 'Death Road' - Which anyone who has whatched Top Gear, will know what I am referring to! A staggering 64km downhill mountain biking blitz from a height of 4600m down to 900m. Our tourguides were very good and made sure we all had the proper kit and protective gear. The first 10km was down a very steep, but properly paved road. The next 54km was on a proper unpaved, gravel, deathish road... But none of this mattered, because as soon as 7 MEN come together, they tend to forget all about grievous bodily harm and imminent death and instead tend to focus on who can go fastest around the next bend. This proved true, true and true angain as we hurtled down the world's most dangerous road at speeds of 35-40km/h always pushing they guy right in front of you and being harried by the guy behind you. About halfway down I hit a loose rock and fell side ways over my bike at breaking speed. I was unhurt luckily and about 5mins later the younger BritBrother, Harry, followed in my example and tumbled head over heels onto the gravel. He was scraped badly but also without major injury. At the end of the track we were greeted with a swimming pool and a buffet lunch.

The next day was spent recovering from the previous day and indeed night's tom-foolery. I also coincidentally was in the right place to help move an organ in the nearby church/cathedral! The day after that I abseiled down a 17storey building in a spiderman outfit. Will, Freddie Newton (the britsbrother who had that day ascended a 6000m mountain), Ad and I went out for mexican food and then once more to the 'English pub' for a couple of rounds. Afterwards we went back to the Wild Rover bar and hostel where we continued our shenanigans.

Thursday we went to Copacabana. The gateway town to the most revered and sacred Incan Religious site. The island itself was beautiful and should be a stopover for any Bolivian traveler. We spent the night in a hostel at R60 per person per night. The town is on a steep hill overlooking the 'harbour' which at waterlevel is already 3800m above sealevel. A 200m ascent with backpacks on is no small accomplishment. The whole of the island is terraformed into ancient Incan terraces, which are still farmed to this day by the local people. We navigated our way down these vertical farms down to the lake shore where we had a swim in the crystal clear waters of Lake Titicaca.

Higest, driest, survivalist

Will and I left for San Pedro de Atacama from Santiago on Monday the 27th of April. A staggering 24 hour bus ride. After the bus was delayed by almost 3hrs we eventually got on it and set off. When endeavoring on such a long bus ride, try to keep in mind that the build up of human excrement over such time period without running sanitation can be overwhelming. We experienced this firsthand because our seats were right next to the "loo". Every time the toilet doors opened, Will and I would each partially lose consciousness due to the extreme stench. I am forever indebted to William for making a possibly horrendous experience into a hilarious one, mainly due to facial expressions and witty comments to boot.

We spent two days in San Pedro de Atacama, a town situated in the world's driest desert - the Atacama. We wanted to rent a camper van and drive out into the desert, possibly seeing sights such as geysers, salt flats, active volcanoes and just sheer desolation. Our minds were quickly changed by a counter-offer made by 3 Czech girls who wanted to do an organized desert tour into Bolivia. We quickly abandoned our old outdated scheme for this new and more adventurous one. The day prior to our departure we went and saw the vally of the moon, an area where there has never been any recorded rainfall!

On Thursday the 30th of April, we got picked up at our hostel that we shared with the girls - Lenka, Christina and Sharka at 8am. We crossed into Bolivia (the crossing being 4400m above sealevel) shortly after and were introduced to our driver - Diago, who of course couldn't speak any english. Luckily Christina was fluent in spanish and served as a translator whenever she remembered! The first day saw us breaking down, seeing sulphurous geysers at 5200m (we were only allowed to stay for a maximum of 15min as a combination of thin air and egg-smelling sulphur proved to much for most travelers. I was admittedly also quite lightheaded by the time we left), some more desolation and nothingness and wild llama-like nincuña animals.

The second day we spent driving more and more towards the greatest salt pan in the world. Along the way we saw active, smoking volcanoes and strange rock formations... By mid afternoon we drove into the town we were supposed to sleep in, but for some strange reason the tour company hadn't booked our stay... We were homeless. Our driver was a bit more stressed than we were and was constantly trying to keep our spirits up even though we weren't that bothered to start out with. In the end we found an even better hostel in the next town over. The building was completely made out of salt brick, which is mined off of the salt flats. We had a good night, with Diago even producing a bottle of fine Bolivian wine to accompany our large chicken-based meal.

On Saturday we drove out onto the salt flats themselves. Diago supposedly didn't sleep to well as he kept falling asleep at the wheel - to the great delight of me a Will, who watched as his head kept on nodding and his hands kept on slipping off the wheel! If you're going to fall asleep at the wheel of a land cruiser, the salt flats would be the ideal place as it is 100% flat and nothing around you for miles. The nothingness is immense. It was one of the most interesting placed I have ever went to.

At our end destination, Uynui, we spent the better part of 6hrs waiting for our 8 o clock bus that would take us to LaPaz, which according to Jeremey Clarkson is "highest and worst capital city in the world". The bus ride was not fun, even though we had the 'luxurious' cama seats. The bus was unheated and most of the journey was spent on gravel roads so we didn't sleep much. By the next morning at 8am we arrived in LaPaz