Iguazu makes you laugh

Theory: It is said that the negative ions generated by the waterfalls of Iguazu make you happier.

Fact: they do.

Continuing on the spending splurge I've been on since my first class bus experience, we forked out on the jungle and speed boat tour of Iguazu. We clambered into a jeep and explored the jungle for about 8kms - trees, trees and more trees, coupled with the odd lizard and beautifully coloured butterflies.

Apparently, there are also jaguars in these parts. A rangers son was taken by one a couple of years ago. We didn't encounter any. Should we happen to stumble across one on one of the many bush walks around the area we were aptly advised by lonely planet 'not to run, wave your arms in the air' and 'make yourself appear bigger' than you seem. Hmmmm. I don't know what my reaction would be if I came face to face with a jaguar, but I don't know whether I'd want to bring more attention to myself. I'd say your pretty much screwed if you came face to face with a jaguar, particularly if he is in a bad mood, or a bit peckish. Luckily for us we've managed to avoid them, except at the zoo.

The boat bit was the best bit. Think Sydney Harbour jet boating style, although there were no 360s, much to my disappointment. We were drenched to the bone and giggling Gertie's by the time the ride ended - the boat weaving in and out of and reversing under and around the waterfalls. The power of the spray and the noise generated by the falls is incredible - you could not see or hear a thing, let alone breathe because of the amount of water cascading down on top of you. Not thinking that we would get that wet, (it should have given it away when you were handed a massive waterproof bag for all your belongings) I stupidly did not wear my swimmers, but it being about 35 degrees that day my denim shorts dried quickly as we wandered around the park exploring the falls from different angles.

Heading up the river

The next day, Jules and I did a quick dash across the Brazilian border to see the falls from the other side. With no Brazilian money, and absolutely no Portuguese (which I had totally forgotten about until we were sitting on the bus and Jules said 'how's your Portuguese???') we somehow managed to navigate our way on public buses to the falls and back with absolutely no problem. With very limited time, having a bus to catch early that afternoon, we raced around the Brazilian side, pushing past the hundreds of slowpokes that hogged and blocked the trail. My 'permisso' of course not working of course because it's the wrong language, or maybe they were just ignoring me.

The Brazilian's have built a bridge that goes right out into the middle of them so you get a very good idea of the size of Iguazu. Again, not thinking I would get wet, I stupidly did not wear my swimmers, and again, I soon resembled a drowned rat, the spray of the falls quickly saturating anyone that came close. I risked the life of my camera to take photos and video to capture the sheer size and noise of the place which is absolutely incredible and not to be missed.

Me - soaked to the bone on the Brazilian side

Mmmmmm steak.

We arrived in BA on 16 January after a very quick dash down through the northwest of Argentina to meet Claire's friend Jules who has come to visit for two weeks.

We stayed our first few nights in the suburb of Palermo. Dubbed the 'yuppie' area, it's full of beautiful old buildings, hip restaurants and bars. Even better (for me), it is full of boutique shops. Such a pity I can't fit anything extra in my bag.

Steak is excellent here and I've been having plenty of it. I ate waaaaaaaaaaay too much one night at the hostel asado. The amount of meat they served us was insane. There was so much that the guy was so desperate to get rid of it by the end (he still had half a cow left), that even when you refused more he would dump a slab on your plate and say 'one more little bit, you can fit it.' So a Monty Python 'one more little morsel' moment. I thought I was going to explode, but it was so tasty that I couldn't refuse.

The Colourful Caminito of La Boca

We have had an ongoing problem with ordering drinks here. Restaurants and bars seem to be really short stocked on ingredients, fresh fruit in particular, which is bazaar considering the number of fruit markets we walk past everyday. One night we tried to order daiquiris - no strawberry. OK, how about banana. Nope. OK, let's try our luck with another drink, how about a caipirinha. Two minutes later - sorry, no lime. What do you have?!!? At another place they convinced us that a caipirinha would taste the same with lemon. It doesn't. And they forgot the sugar. Wouldn't recommend that one. A few days later we sat down in a café for lunch after exploring La Boca and it's colourful Caminito - we were told that there was no potato (so no fries), no beef and no something or other else. We sure can pick them.

Mmmmmm..... steeeeaaaaak

On the upside, after moving to San Telmo on the other side of town - the home of tango and cobbled streets - we went to Desnivel for dinner where I had an amazing steak accompanied with 'chimichurri', an Argentine marinade made up of chili, Spanish onion, saffron, thyme, parsley, garlic and lemon juice (I'm sure there is a secret ingredient in there somewhere as well). Delicious!!! Demolished that one off. However, I really need to learn how to say ' medium rare' or 'rare' even cause I haven't had a steak cooked quite how I like it yet.

 

We spent an entire day wandering around the Sunday Antiques fair of San Telmo, the Buenos Aires version of Portobello Rd (mum and Aunty Wendy, you would go nuts here!). Everything and anything a chap can unload can definitely be found here - old watches, crockery, spoons, jewellery, and Australian power converters (woo hoo cause that's among the many things that has mysteriously disappeared on this trip) accompanied by live tango on the streets. You really can get caught up in the atmosphere here. By the time we looked at a watch it was 6pm and we had arrived about 11 that morning. A really good days wandering.

Argentinean buses are awesome. Protests suck.

I thought we'd done it all. Chicken buses. Stinky people laying in and crowding the aisle buses. Bogged buses. It all added to my sense of adventure, but I much prefer our First Class bus experience to Iguazu Falls. With wine to accompany dinner, champagne for those who fancied for dessert, private television and a seat that reclined into a bed, it was bloody luxury (and a requirement for our 18 hour journey). I didn't even mind so much that we got delayed for 6 hours because of a protest (it was road works according to our bus driver) which stretched our journey out to 24 hours. With movies playing around the clock, who cares? Time flies. (I did mind slightly when I ran out of food and then they played 'The Scorpion King 2', but hey, as long as they're in English.)

Ps. Ignore my thong tan

Exercise, Zoos and Rodeos

I'd really like to think that I've been exercising and haven't lost my bootcamp fitness. In reality, I can probably count the times I've exercised properly on one hand (although, I'm not going to try cause I don't want to know the real number). Let's just say that I tried to run today because I was going to miss the bus after dordling in the supermarket and I made it about 10m. In my defence, I was carrying a lot of shopping cause I don't fancy being trapped on another bus with no food supply. (However, I am writing this on the bus and have managed to consume the majority of what I bought and I'm 4 hours into the trip...) Anyhoo, I have done the odd strenuous walk and coupled with everyday meandering around the city that we're in I don't feel so guilty.

We did a really good walk in Salta. We trekked to the top of Parque San Martin on a stinking hot day. It took a good couple of hours up and back - 1000 stairs up. We were going to be lazy and catch the cable car back down, however, in line with the luck we've been having with transport, it had broken by the time we wanted to go back down. I rewarded myself for all my hard work with an ice block at the top. This has started a very bad habit. Ice creams are my new snack - they are on every street corner and I cannot resist. We found a really good pineapple mixed with something flavour (how good is my Spanish) so off course I had to sample all the other flavours. My daily record currently stands at 3. Found a really nice caramel flavoured one with nut and choc bits too - think Corneto. But not as good.

In Cordoba we thought we'd check out how South America does zoos. Either they really like their birds here, or that is all Argentina has to offer animal wise. Every second enclosure seemed to be filled with another variety of bird: lovebirds, peacocks. In fact, every where in South America seems to love birds - not my favourite animal, but hey, whatever floats your boat. If you're so inclined in Brazil you can even do a side trip to a bird park with over 800 species of birds on your way to Iguazu. I skipped this trip. Cordoba zoo did have some big cats - jaguars, lions and tigers, and two MASSIVE hippopotami that had squished themselves into a tiny pond. Annnnnnd, they even had my favourite - meercats (one of the only animals where there was more than one). It was hard to look at any animal there for too long. Their enclosures were so depressing. Totally barren, little water or shade and there was only one of every animal as well which was sad, talk about lonely. One porcupine, one orangutan. Taronga definitely trumps.

We had heard that the Fiesta Nacional de Doma y Folklore was on in the town of Jesus Maria, just outside Cordoba. Live music and gaucho horsemanship competitions like barrel racing kicked off at 11pm so a quick meal at an Arabic joint and several beers later we took a local (not so stinky) bus to check it out. Food stalls and markets, complete with the smallest horses I have ever seen dressed up in costumes, stretched out for blocks and blocks. Having no idea where we were going we wandered around blind and finally (and probably miraculously given my track record with picking the opposite direction to walk when leaving a bus station) the stadium appeared. With our giant beer cups we sat in the stands and watched the festivities - dog riding horses included. The poor dog looked absolutely petrified.

Border Patrol and a cure for long bus rides

I've found borders rather lax. Argentina: no customs declarations forms, and they didn't check my bag (I must look really innocent). Brazil: no one home?!?! Bolivia: has a customs form but they make you walk over the border while the bus drives to the other side and picks you up again, even though it was absolutely pouring with rain?!?!?

I'm not very good at the border crossing thing yet - totally unprepared when it comes to cash. Crossing over from Bolivia to Argentina we didn't have one Argentinean Peso between us. Guess we're walking the 2km or so to the bus station with our 20kg backpacks. And we'd already walked about 5 blocks through Villazon to the border from the Bolivian bus terminal. Joy. Am definitely in a love-hate relationship with my pack at the moment. Actually, more of a hate relationship. I'm not happy Jan when it comes time to move on. It seems to be getting heavier, though that is impossible cause there is not an inch of space left in it to fill it with anything else, so I must just be getting fleakier.

When we finally found the terminal (thank you Lonely Planet maps) we missed out on seats for the earlier bus to Salta and had to wait till midnight for the next one. Luckily spoted a clock and so realised Argentina is one hour ahead - could have been a really long wait had we missed that bus as well....

After finding some moolah, we sat ourselves in one of the only open restaurants for the rest of the night cause there is nothing much else to do in La Quiaca, Argentina. Lonley Planet thinks your nuts for being here other than to cross the border.
 

We were starving and had a long wait ahead so we ordered the Parilla. We knew it was meat to share, that is it. Next thing we know an entire bbq arrived out our table. It was covered in beef, chicken, pork, blood sausage and an unidentifiable organ - thinking kidney or liver. Tasty! (minus the guts) It was massive - but that soon became the theme of the evening. It washed down nicely with our 1L bottle of Quilmes beer and bottle of wine. I was wondering why the waiter was looking at us funny when we were ordering and questioning whether we were sure about what we wanted to drink. The wine only cost about $14 pesos, or AUD$4, so I don't think we were that silly for thinking it was a glass. Ah well, it made for a good bus ride. 

The horse that wouldn't go in Tupiza

My one and only interest in going to Tupiza was to ride through the countryside. I'd heard that it was spectacular. But true to form, whenever, and whereever I go riding I get the dud horse. The horse that likes to stop and eat the bushes. The horse that won't go faster no matter how hard you kick it. In New Zealand, I got the horse with the crap canter (Tor got the x-trotter, so she probably lost out more....hahaha) In Tupiza, it was the horse that wouldn't go.

After recovering from our bus polava, Claire and I booked in for an early morning ride through the breathtaking red rocky valleys of Tupiza. It was a definite change from the landscape we'd been used to out the bus window - very American frontier, wild wild west - cowboys or cowgirls in our case, complete with chaps and sombreros.

I kicked and squeezed the crap out of my horse. Perhaps it was the fact that I was wearing Vans, so maybe my energetic kicks weren't as hard as I thought they were.... but still no good. He would continue to meander along like an old man. Claire's horse meanwhile would break into a trot for no apparent reason. There were beautiful valleys to canter through as well :(

Oh well, I suppose that considering the only thing that would have been between the ground and my head had I come off was a sombrero, it was probably a good thing. Bolivian safety standards also ensured I got chaps... cause I was really concerned about my jeans at this point (?!?!?!).

I did get to swap with the guide after a while - after he told me in his broken English that his horse was 'crazy.' Hmmmmm. I thought twice about swapping with him after he told me that, but he was a beautiful (but angry) horse and I couldn't resist - and what do you know, he actually went when you kicked him (so it wasn't the Vans....).

'Who eats wins' also went big in Tupiza. Claire and I hit the local street food markets for food - sampling some tasty (yet unknown) variety of meat with a side of black potatoes. We must have picked the good stuff, because the guy opposite us, after consuming his own meal, proceeded to order exactly what we were having. Black potatoes are not the tastiest thing in the world, but whatever the meat was it was delicious!

We also sampled a traditional Bolivian drink that we'd been eyeing since spotting it on stalls in La Paz. We'd guessed at what we thought it was - my guess was some kind of cured meat like prosciutto, floating in a light orangy coloured water. From far away it looked like a tiny animal foetus because it was all squidgy and fleshy looking. Turns out however that it is dehydrated peach, or 'Mocochinchi', and it actually wasn't that bad. Wouldn't be the first thing that I reached for, but still quite thirst quenching.

Bogged in Bolivia

It was bound to happen. The roads aren't paved; the buses aren't 4WDs; and it had been raining.

When we got back from Uyuni and jumped straight on a bus for Tupiza - the 'wild west' of Bolivia. Woo hoo - reasonably short bus ride I thought. What a jinx. The 6 hour bus ride quickly turned into a 14 hour expedition when our driver, who apparently likes to drive cross country, decided it would be better to go off road (why I don't know when the road is already made of dirt...), and straight into a massive mud puddle. Yes, the journey was smoother, for the good minute before we hit the mud patch, but it meant that we spent the next 3 and 1/2 hours with everyone off the bus tyring to dig it out and jack it up, covering the mud with salt bush in the freezing cold night. At about 2:30am, everyone gave up, went back inside and fell asleep. At 6:30am our tow arrived.

 

 
(No Tor Tor, there were no donkey's to tow us out. And in Boliva, there are no trees to wrench ourselves out with either)

Salar de Uyuni - it's flat. That is all.

Since our mammoth bus ride from Lima to Cuzco of 21 hours (+ extra time for the flat tyre) we have taken to making sure that our bus journeys are max 12ish hours. This means that we often end up in little towns with nothing to do.

Our next 'little town' was Potosi. It's only claim to fame being that it is the highest city in the world - supposedly (we have also been told that Lago Titicaca was the highest lake in the world. Apparently that's wrong...) and the mine tours that you can do here.

We decided against taking a claustrophobic and all round depressing tour of the mines(we'd heard stories of as many half the people on a tour turning back). Watching kids as young as 12 work in appalling conditions is not really my idea of a 'tour.' With the amount of dust down there as well, it would have been asking for an asthma attack. Would not want to do two really stupid things in quick succession.

So after one night we took off to Uyuni to tour the much raved about Salt Flats. We piled into an old red Landcruiser with our Spanish speaking guide Mario - no air conditioning, non-functioning windows and luggage strapped precariously to the roof - for a 3 day tour.

The Salt Flats are tremendously beautiful.... and flat. We drove for hours and hours in one direction, no end in sigh - to the horizon is just one big white glare. Mario stopped every hour or so to give a chance to perfect our touristy photos. We didn't quite get the hang of them....

On the second day we hit the mountains - Lagoons and flamingos and geysers galore. It too is beautiful, but after being cooped up in a Landcrusier for a couple days, I (shock, horror) got sick of the rolling hills and egg fart smell (the geysers and some of the lakes stink because they have very high sulphur content). Mario must have thought we were the most uninterested tourists ever when we refused to get out of the car to take photos and insisted he kept driving.

The third day was the least enjoyable. I spent the most of the night running to the bathroom - I've put it down to food poisoning. Not wanting to spend the whole next day wanting to go to the bathroom in the bush, I took an imodium at about 3am. Twenty minutes later I was back in the bathroom, now vomiting. Damn imodium. So the beautiful sunrise - i missed it. I slept pretty much the entire third day in the car.

No go Oruro. Yay to Sucre!

Having read about Oruro in the guide book, and it not being too far away from La Paz we jumped on a bus (complete with cats and stinky people lying in the aisles) and headed off, our intention being that we would celebrate NYE there. That is until we pulled into the town. Hmmmmm. Not only did it look like it had recently flooded, the outskirts of town was smothered in knee high trash for miles. I wish I'd had my camera at the ready. We all looked at each other and in unison said 'anyone for Sucre?' We had a bus booked out of there for later that night within minutes of arriving.

To pay some homage to Oruro, we did have an absolutely fabulous meal at Restaurant Nayjama - beef stew and home made pasta. Best meal that I've had in ages. And a really enjoyable cab ride - our taxi driver switched the radio over to his gringo compilation CD so was sang along to Roy Orbison, Beach Boys, Mamas & the Papas and The Beatles - loved it. So all in all, our 3 or so hours in Oruro were very enjoyable. Maybe we shouldn't have judged a book by its cover.

We arrived in Sucre very early in the morning - much to the disgust of the night man at our hostel. He did not seem very impressed that we'd awoken him with our incredibly loud banging on the front door in conjunction with continuous ringing of the door bell (well, he shouldn't sleep so deeply if his job is to answer the door!).

Our hostel was really lovely. A rustic building with massive courtyards (complete with old fig tree, terrocotta pots and cast iron lounges) and huge bedrooms. It would have been at least 5x5m for the 3 of us. I quickly had the entire contents of my bag sprawled everywhere.

We'd planned for about 3 nights in Sucre, but we ended up staying longer. Partly due to a heavy night on the town the night before we thought we'd leave at a local club someone suggested to us (could no way face a bus the following day), and partly due to how much we enjoyed it.

We had a really good NYE as well in Sucre at the Joy Ride Café. We'd stumbled across the café earlier in the day as we wandered around trying to find something to eat. While sitting inside, eating a really delicious cooked breakfast, the staff began laying plastic on the floor. Random, we thought. The lawyer in me going - that is really dangerous. Someone is going to slip over that and crack their head. They then started carrying in buckets of sand... Really random, we thought. If I'd not been concentrating so hard on my breakfast and had read the walls, I perhaps would have noticed the 'Beach Party NYE' signs posted all around the room. As we left (or got kicked out as they came closer and closer to us with buckets of sand to the point where we felt we were in the way and had to go) we were told to come back that night - free beer all night. That we did. The place was packed, and there was in fact free beer all night. Woo hoo. There was no countdown though - the NY arrived and I missed it. We couldn't have done a countdown anyway because there was a ton of confusion about the real time; someone thought it was 00:10, someone else 23:55. Everyone you asked had a different time, ah well.

At about 2am Claire and I were hungry, so we ducked out to the plaza where we had our first real sample of street food - who eats wins. I'm still praying that it wasn't dog. It was a skewer with a peanut sauce. It was tasty, so long as it wasn't dog. Not brave enough to ask :s Our second sampling of street food was in the early morning a few days later when we got street hamburgers, with chips stuffed on top. SOOOOO good. And for 5 Bolivianos, or about 80c Australian, they were well worth it.

Next stop - Potosi.

The 'Death Road' - the stupid things I do

Having heard of the spectacular views that you get from bike riding down the 'world's most dangerous road' I stupidly signed up. At 68km long, just over the width of a car and with a 3.6km drop off the edge of the majority of the road, this is the probably the most stupid thing that I have ever done in my entire life.

I cannot even remember the last time that I rode a bike. Let alone at 4700m above sea level on a road made of deep gravel which spins your back tyre out from you frequently as you try to maintain a reasonable speed down the hill. You are deceived into thinking it is going to be easy when you arrive at the top of the ride where the road is wide, paved and has side guards. This lasts for about 20kms. Then you hit the 'world's most dangerous road.' Gulp. At least we went with a reputable company. We heard tales from a guy who was trying to claim from his insurance for a suspected fractured wrist. The result of dodgy breaks on his bike. That's what you get for being cheap.

Riding on the left side of the road (yes, the side with the cliff) made the whole experience a lot worse. Normally, Bolivians drive on the opposite side to Australia, however it swaps especially for the 'Death Road' - so that the driver going downhill can see how close he is sitting to the cliff face....

Miraculously, we all made it down without a spill to the tiny town of Los Yungas. I have to admit that the scenery (what I caught when I wasn't concentrating on the road) was magnificent - from my favourite rolling hills to the Amazon basin.


On the way back up in the bus, our guide was good to point out where other people had not been so lucky and had gone over the edge. We also paused momentarily to look at the wreckage of a car that still remains down the bottom. eeeek.

The best part about the entire day was the animal sanctuary at the bottom of the hill - La Sende Verde - which was home to monkeys, boa constrictors, a bear and a coatis. The monkeys were so cute! We had the chance to have a cuddle with the babies, which would jump and climb all over you. It was so awesome. It makes me want to volunteer at an animal sanctuary for a bit.

Dodgy bartenders and Bolivian hospital sleepovers

Boxing day we had our first taste of typical breakfast street food known as 'saltenas' - a warm samosa like pastry filled with potato, chicken and herbs, topped with a bit of satay/chilli sauce. Delicious. We absolutely stuffed ourselves with them... sampling all the street chefs saltenas we could fchiliind.

That night, we decided to give our palettes a break from local food and sampled some Arabic that was recommened to us. It was so good to have some dips! It is impossible to find dip here. Probably due to a lack of refrigerators. Well, they have them. They just don't turn them on. Even in the supermarket meat sits out in the warm air (including chicken, gross) and not once have I been served a cold Diet Coke :(

We went back to the hostal bar to have a few drinks after dinner. The night ended in disaster. After only a few drinks and a couple of sips from a new drink made by the dodgy bartender I was in the bathroom being violently ill. About a hour later, Claire became terribly sick also. So much so that I had to call for the doctor and she was taken to the local hospital. She couldn't even walk. Having had her drink spiked before, she knew what had happened. Suspicions definitely lay on the bartender. Considering that he was fired the next day by hostel management they must be well shared. Not a good experience, but the hospital was surprisingly clean and she was very well looked after. Bottled beer or wine from now on I think.

Chrissy - La Paz, Bolivia

La Paz is like a Monet. From far away it is beautiful. It sits nestled in a valley, its outer suburbs scaling up the surrounding mountains as far as the eye can see. Close up though, it's all over the shop. A mess. Probably the most dirty city we have been in.

It has some fascinating areas though - the 'Witches Market' where you can find llama foetuses, dried frogs to bring good fortune and owls to make you knowledgeable (look closely in the photo for the foetuses); the 'Black Market' where you can find anything from toilet seats to electronics (question the legitimacy of anything you buy here - apparently most of it is smuggled in from Chile). We didn't manage to find ipod headphones though. It was overwhelming the amount of stuff they had so we probably overlooked them. We did find Uhu glue sticks though so we can stick bits into our journals.

I didn't feel entirely comfortable wandering around La Paz with cameras and valuables tucked tightly into pockets. There are so many people in this city that a run in with pick pockets was almost inevitable....and then heading up through the Witches Market Mel's camera vanished from her pocket. I wish that they'd have the courtesy to leave your memory card... surely they could slip it back into your pocket as easily as they took your camera out. That will be the day though, courteous thieves. The difficulty is as well that anyone in these cities, from grandparents to children, are expert thieves. They have nasty little tricks, including spitting on you, to distract you while they empty your pockets. Really nice.

Christmas eve was massive at the Irish hostel where we stayed। Dressed in Santa hats and tinsel that we had picked up at the local markets (and Mel in a Santa jacket meant for a pet dog) we danced the night away in the hostel bar. They loved their Irish music (which we should have expected) - half the songs we had never heard before.

We had a massive Crissy lunch/dinner on Christmas day - turkey, ham and all the trimmings (minus cranberry sauce) and a random mushroom soup (?!?!) with some Irish boys that we'd met the night before. The one thing that was missing was warm Christmas pudding - sniff. I could have done with a massive slice, dripping in brandy butter, caramel sauce and ice cream, mmmmm.

The meal was so ginourmous that we packed up our leftovers and spent the evening scanning the streets for the homeless। We didn't have to go far. We walked a couple of blocks to the plaza where the president resides where we were absolutely swarmed by young children. If you are ever carrying food they will come up to you and ask for it. Not something that I would encouraged normally. It was so heartbreaking and scary because they seemed to come from nowhere! There were so many little hands grabbing at you and begging for the food, trying to take it out of your hands. I would have had at least 10 children surrounding me at once, and they chase you down the street if they know that you still have food. Not knowing the word for 'share' in Spanish, I picked out the littlest ones that were being trampled over and distributed my bags of leftovers.

I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas and a happy new year

xxxx

Avoid the ham in Copacabana....

We'd been very careful with food up until this point. We had avoided lettuce (even going to the extent of removing it from food that we ordered in case it had been washed in unboiled water), most chicken products (for fear of salmonella) and everything else we felt might be dodgy.


We were starving by the time we arrived in Copa so ducked into the first restaurant we could find. Little did the girls and I know that the various forms of ham we ate (on sandwiches and pizza) would later that night end in absolute disaster.

We went out for a really nice dinner at La Orilla - pepper steak mmmm and the first curry that we had seen on a menu in our entire journey. Mel was the first man down. The poor thing had to leave dinner halfway through, taking no more than two bites. Claire was next. My stomach held out for another day but soon joined in. Damn ham!! Luckily for us you can get pretty much anything you want over the counter in the pharmacies here. Travelling with a pharmacy student is an added bonus - Mel knows the names of the right drugs and adding 'ina' to the end of the english drug name seems to work. We spent the next few days on medication with our symptoms not disappearing as quickly as we would like with Christmas fast approaching.
 
Hopefully our run in with food ends here. We're hoping our guts are well and truly prepared now for what ever local street food throws at us because we're desperate to start eating it - smells soooo good. (We're just not going to ask what it is.... they like to eat dog in these parts.....)

The end of Peru and the beginnings of Bolivia

Arequipa - boring, but beautiful.

The guide book talked it up, but there was really nothing to do in Arequipa, the 'white city.' Absolutely nothing was open - we roamed the streets for what felt like forever to find somewhere decent to eat, but ended up at a dingy little Italian feel place right on the tourist strip. Crapholio.

We arranged a tour of the Colca Canon - shizen. We felt like retirees. Cue 'Cecilia' our tour guide: 'On your left there a Vicunas' (with the bus slamming on the breaks for all the cameras to come out and click away like Japanese tourists). This happened a good 10 times. There are only so many VicuñasVicuñas you can look at. Yes, they are endangered. However, they still look the same every time you see them. You also start to question the information your guide is feeding you when she mentions that the Spanish brought gum trees over from Australia.... hmmmm. We then spent a good hour and a half trying to spot a Condor. We saw one. Joy. It would have been more enjoyable to trek through the Canon but after almost killing ourselves on the Inca trail we thought the bus would be a good option. Clearly not.

The scariest and most eventful thing that happened was passing an coach that had fallen off the road. It was pretty distressing - you do not feel safe at the speed that they drive here. We've been taking a lot of night buses as well which has its pros and cons. Pro - you cannot see where you are going and so don't freak out at how close you are to a cliff edge. Con - you can feel how fast you are going and so freak out even more because you cannot tell how close you are to the edge and can feel the driver slamming on the breaks as they approach a bend to fast in the over ladened double decker bus.

We did get the chance to visit Junita, the 500 year old Ice Maiden discovered atop one of the volcanoes surrounding Arequipa. She was very well preserved thanks to the freezing temperatures. You could make out her hair and skin through the several panes of glass and ice that she was stored in. In all I think they have found about 16 bodies and their belongings in the surrounding area, preserved to varying degrees. It was slightly depressing. She was a child sacrifice. They estimate that she was about 12 years old when she died and that she was murdered. If you look at her closely you can see where she was whacked on the head. It is thought however that she was given the local drink, Chicha, so that she had passed out before she was hit. Not that it really makes you feel that much better about the whole situation.

We spent an afternoon wandering around the very massive and very beautiful Monasterio Santa Catalina which was founded in 1579. It was nice to have a relaxing stroll around, but it was good to finally get on the bus.