In The Jungle. The Mighty Jungle.

 After toying with the idea of 'doing the rainforest' from Peru, Columbia and Equador we opted for Bolivia instead. It's cheaper, less touristed, and now the major floods have passed (6 weeks ago c1000 families saw their homes washed away on the river banks), accessible via a short flight from la Paz. 

The amazon basin accounts for c40% of Boliva and is mainly divided into Pampas (low lying swampland), and jungle. The temperature is around 35 degrees in the day time, 25 at night, and humidity hovers around 95%, day and night.  We got there one week before the rainy season was officially over but the climate doesn't stick to the calendar and it was due to pour down most days. It didn't disappoint on that front. 

After a short wait at the small airport in La Paz, we were informed that we'd been called for boarding prematurely because they were still sorting engine trouble.  One of the passengers from the previous incoming flight on our plane didn't seem too comfortable with their experience - they had to be wheeled away from the plane in a wheelchair while sucking on an oxygen mask.  From that point nobody was comfortable with the prospect of a 19 seater propellor plane across huge snow-capped mountains with the potential for panic attack inducing engine problems. Everyone had seen 'Alive' and we were starting to weigh up the relative nutritional merits of each other.  Needless to say despite a completely smooth 40 minute flight, the nervous flyers (including Gayle) were on the highest possible alert and didn't blink throughout.

We touched down to a unanimous relief in Rurrenabaque, where there's just a runway (and the ground marshalers used their flags to chase horses off the runway rather than direct the planes).  We stayed the night at a hostel and had a slap up dinner while we got used to the idea that there may be some uncomfortable moments ahead given we don't like insects, spiders and general discomfort - although you may have already read that we'd have been getting better over the last 6 months.

At the start of our Jungle trip we met Ron, our Guide.  He is the size of a 12 year old (as we shook hands, his disappeared completed as it was enveloped by my less diminutive paw).  He has a great passion for wildlife, a really sharp eye, always had a chuckle and a story ready and also had the heart of F1 racing driver - I'll explain more in a bit.

1st, The Pampas - river / swamp area - 3 hour drive on a terrible road, where our driver giggled at the drivers trying to dig lorries out of the mud, giggled at other drivers' trepidation at picking the remaining solid parts of the mud road, giggled when he shared a joke with one of the many fellow travellers he knew, giggled when he filled a canister with petrol - there was a defining characteristic in there somewhere.  He didn't mess about getting us to the river from where we had a short boat ride to our lodge.

From here Ron took us on many excursions over the next 3 days.  The 1st was Swimming with Pink Dolphins.  Smaller (and pinker of course) than their seafaring cousins, they were still impressively large animals (twice as big as us) - and as friendly and beautiful as they are, it's not a natural thing to jump into the murky river water with them.  But that was what the excursion involved and who were we to change the itinerary?  Thankfully we were assured that the Dolphins would beat up any errant Alligators for us, unless they were really big, but these are almost never seen.  Oh, ok then, fine, in we jump...  They did entertain us a bit by constantly popping up behind us, surrounding us or splashing our faces - they thought they were hilarious.  

That night we went out spotting reflective Alligator eyes.  It was incredible being on the river in near pitch darkness.  There seemed to be a hundred times more stars than I'd ever seen before, and yes the Alligators eyes did reflect Ron's torch.  We didn't get to actually see the rest of them though, but no fear it turned out there was a 2m long specimen that camps out near our boats.  This little fella was destined to provide a lot of entertainment on our last day...

We also fished for Piranhas - which is a novelty thing really given the typical non-South American thinks they are as dangerous as portrayed in James Bond.  Still they are quick aggressive little buggers who took no time at all to eat the bits of beef from my fishing hook, leaving the hook completely alone!  Ron had a little more of a killer instinct and produced 3 specimens for us to get a closer look at before letting them go (hoping they can find a Piranha infirmary somewhere).  Ron's version of leaving wildlife completely alone and ours differed greatly. 

Throughout our stay other critters of note were:

- Families of Capybera - Believe it or not, they are rodents but they can grow up to 100kg.  That is one bloody big hamster.

- Mopho butterfly - difficult to get a piccy (you can always go on Google!), but these things are bright blue and the size of a dinner plate.  I'm no great fan of any bugs, but seeing these lazily flap by is pretty mesmerising.

- A troup of Squirrel Monkeys.  Typically cheeky and curious little fellas - and you can't help loving them as they look and express themselves so much like a 1ft tall person.

There were hundred of Birds & Monkeys that we saw from far away, Ron would use his driving skills to try and get closer, which entailed manoeuvring the boat with a subtle engine noise: "HHHHHHNNNNNNNGGRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" And as the wildlife in the surrounding area scattered towards Argentina he would declare they are 'afraid of cameras'!

Our days were filled with beautiful scenery, a lodge which had comparative luxury for Bolivian jungle, hot food & drink.  (No wine though - this was roughing it!)  I should mention that Gayle was being driven mad as she was bitten to pieces by bugs each night - even within a mosquito net and 90% DEET.  She picked up around 70+ bites, while I lay around in the same bed under the same net and picked up One.  One tiny one on my finger, which didn't attract much sympathy for some reason.

We spent a lot of time getting rained on or sunburnt while Ron took the racing line around the area in the boat, or walking not to see an Anaconda.  We had been a bit spoilt by the immediate availability of wildlife in the Galápagos Islands, the relentless activity of Macchu Pichu and the constant socialising in both.  We had one girl with us on the first day - then we were the only customers from that point - generally it was a bit quiet.

We also noticed a couple of things about Ron.

- If you asked him a question that he didn't understand the he would just answer 'yes' or with the answer to the question he wanted to answer

Us:    'Is a Caiman a name for an Alligator or for a Crocodile?'

Ron:  'Yes'

(Bases covered I suppose)

Us:    'How often do the Squirrel Monkeys have children?'

Ron:  'There are 2 or 3 males in a family.'

Us:    'Erm, thanks'

He also had a plethora of stories that involved people getting into trouble with animals (usually young women in a state of undress for some reason) like a tarantula crawling into bed with them.  These people (read inventions) always required him to come to the rescue.  I somehow doubt a tiny man with a scant grasp of what is being asked is often asked to rescue anybody.

On our last day in the Pampas Ron spotted a snake in the forest surrounding the lodge.  Having spent hours searching for illusive snakes earlier in the week he offered his trophy for my photographic pleasure.  Then the snake took off towards the river and the resident 2m long Alligator (looked it up and they were actually crocodiles!) who didn't take much encouragement to start flipping the unsuspecting snake around like a rag doll.  Again not the kind of 'don't touch' approach to animal conservation we were expecting, but I did get a cracking video of it.

The Jungle

Part two of the trip, we left the swamps and headed to higher ground. 'The Giggler' drove us back towards Rurrenabaque where the rain had left a much more difficult prospect and even his spirits were hit a bit when 5 jeering friends of his had to push his van out of a muddy ditch.  The 4 hour drive back was incredibly uncomfortable as the rain and lorries had lain waste to the route. Instead of getting an hour break in Rurrenabaque where Gayle could pick up some much needed drugs to combat a growing recurrence of a kidney infection, we were pushed straight down a muddy bank onto the boat for the Jungle.

This part of the journey did afford some astonishing views of a raging river in great surroundings, but we did arrive after dark after crashing into a fallen tree.  Queue scrabbling up a muddy bank and into a lodge where everyone is waiting for us so dinner could commence.

We decided a rest was needed rather than a night walk, so we retired to our room.  I picked up a huge leaf like insect called a 'Katydid' that took a fancy to my t-shirt.  This prompted me to practice an odd pogo dance move with the intention of persuading it to leave me alone without actually having to touch it.

Then there was bed - I found a 1" long ant on our bed inside the mosquito net, so decided I had better 'deal' with the situation lest we get (more) bitten in the night.  The little bleeder took a huge amount of compressing within my Sudoku book before it finally gave up the fight.  The I was free to drift into a restful sleep (read frantically check the whole net again before hardly sleeping).

The next day was to be our Jungle trek with overnight stay in the wild.  For entertainment the best prospect was a 4 hour walk to see some Parrots and then ride on a raft back to the lodge - you can almost call it luck that Gayle was feeling increasingly ill and dehydrated at this point and after 4 hours of ducking weird spiders in a hot wet jungle we called time, walked back to camp and were on the boat back to relative civilisation - which was characterised by antibiotics, pizzas and red wine.

Quite the hardy adventurers.

Sun gods & witchcraft: La Paz

Lake Titicaca is the birthplace of Inca beliefs. It houses the Isla del sol,  Isla del Lunar where the god of sun and moon resided, and is still home for a number of indigenous people.  It's the worlds biggest high altitude lake (c3900m), stretches 75km and crosses the border between Peru and Bolivia. The Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca is a bit rubbish. 

The lakeside town, Puno, is an ugly grubby place. Rather than base the hotels/retail/entertainment alongside the lake, they've gone for a stretch of road 30 mins away in the middle of town with no discernible plus points.  Despite being a 7 hour drive away from the Inca site, it has 3 takeaways called 'Machu Pizza'. Shoddy punmanship. 

We took the worlds slowest boat for a day trip two of the inhabited Islands - the first, Uros, is a series of 40+ floating Islands made of reeds where the people live a simple life making and selling crafts to tourists. Sort of interesting but mostly a wafer-thin ploy to avoid taxes and make money. We were told of the indigenous ways of life (locally elected presidents, marshall law, interbreeding etc) but when we questioned things like healthcare and education our guide admitted some of the villagers also own properties on the mainland and spend time their when it suits.  Next. 

Onto Taquila, a much more modern island with a town hall, town square and a building dedicated to 'the knitting men'. Men that knit. That was the highlight. 

Several hours v slow sailing back to Puno, we packed up and crossed the border into Bolivia where the same lake looked and felt so much more interesting.  Copacabana is the lake side town and unlike Puno recognised the benefits of being lakeside. We spent a few days there drinking cheap beer, singing the song,  and doing a bit more trekking on the Isla del sol. 

And with that it was time to say goodbye to Jan. We took the late bus to La Paz ensuring we arrived at seedy O'clock where everything and everyone looks ominous.  Found nowhere open to eat so our last meal together was an egg/hot dog sandwich from a street vendor near the bus stops. Never let it be said that we did not show Jan the highlights of backpacking. 

Saying goodbye at the airport was sad and made us both acutely aware of how far from friends and family we are, but on the plus side it was fantastic to spend 2 weeks together and we're very grateful Jan made the long journey out. And she bought us new knickers, swimwear and contact lenses - the mark of a true friend. 

So onto La Paz - the highest altitude capital city. It's small (1.7m people) but very hilly. It's hot in the day if you stand in the direct sunlight, otherwise it's cold and then gets a lot colder from about 5pm onwards.   

Bolivia has c90% indigenous population so unlike other countries where you only see traditional dress out in the sticks, La Paz has vast amounts of women in bowler hats,  waist-length plaits, bright multi-layered skirts ( the broader you make your silhouette here, the more attractive your are. Given these women rarely reach 5ft they're often as wide as they are tall) and leg warmers selling their wares. 

The markets go on for blocks and sell the usual fruit, knock off CDs, polyester fashions and potatoes (over 400 types here and don't think one women can't have all 400 varieties on her stall), but the most intriguing stands are the witches stands. 

Mutual hatred of the USA/the Spanish occupation/neighbouring countries has meant that the witches and the church haven't had time to fight each other.  Instead they've taken a synchronistic approach that means elements of pagan beliefs are present in the cathedral, and the witches sell crosses as part of their packages.  As such witches are recognised as holding genuine powers, and their spells are relied on for many occasions: 

When you move into a new house you must first do the 'new pad' ritual which involves burning a llama foetus (found on every witch stand) along with some other stuff your local witch provides ( sweets, blessed bits of twigs etc.)

If you're lonely you buy the 'follow me follow me' spell (dust) and blow it on your intended victim who will definitely fall in love with you. 

If that doesn't work entirely to plan you can buy the follow up 'come to me, come to me' spell (more dust) and that has to be thrown down your intendeds underwear. Again, will definitely work and not have you ostracised as a pervert. 

A more ominous spell that now has it's own public information advert playing on TV is for a super-stamina Viagra. After a glut of dead men were found, tests were done and the findings were less witchcraft and more equine husbandry. It's Viagra for horses, now with a street name of Die-agra and despite the corpses, still a best seller! 

Witches and dead llamas aside, the other thing La Paz has notoriety for is San Pedro prison. Mainly because of the book Marching Powder, but the macabre draw of the place is still going strong. 

Built to house 400 men, it currently has c2000 people in it. Right in the middle of the city it takes up a whole block behind a relatively low wall (with holes where attempts at escape have been made) and only 15 guards who patrol it from the outside.  Inside, the prisoners rule.  The rich live in furnished flats, the poor in tiny shared cells. The very poor have their family with them as they can't afford to live outside without the breadwinner- very Dickensian to see small children leaving the prison gates to attend the school opposite.

The prisoners make the purest cocaine you can buy in Bolivia and throw it through holes in the corrugated iron roofs where it's collected,cut & sold for them. The money then comes back in under the nose of the bribed guards: the wealthy stay wealthy and the men serving a drug related sentence stay profitably in the market.

The 'peace' is kept inside by various gangs who when not killing each other (riots aren't uncommon), are drowning paedophiles in the well (it's only purpose), and feeding new rapists to the incumbent rapist.  Maybe hard to care how a bunch of hardened criminals treat each other until you discover that you get sent to San Pedro as much for proximity to your home as for the severity of your crime. And that in Bolivia you are guilty until proven innocent.  First time suspected thieves are just as likely to end up here for months on end as their families scrape funds together for a defence as big time drug/people traffickers. 

Up until a few years ago it was quite easy to bribe a guard to let you in, where a prisoner would take you on a tour.  It's beyond me why a traveller would want to do this- not so much the macabre draw of the squalor (I get that bit but Channel 5 provides that several times a year under the thin veil of documentary), but because of the danger of putting yourself at the mercy of caged criminals.  The worst did happen recently when a couple of European women went in so it's now much more difficult to do, although not impossible and people around us were still chatting about the pros & cons of a visit! 

It just made us feel sad. Bolivia has so much going for it but the judicial system has a lot to catch up on.  Not so the celebration of brass music though where Bolivia is head and shoulders above the rest of the world. Nothing occurs in La Paz without a brass band accompanying it: a protest about litter in the streets, celebration of the navy (the only water they have is 1/3 of Lake Titicaca but they still have an active navy), a politicians birthday... Several times over the 5 days we were there the traffic drew to a halt and a marching band took over. People stood and sang the national anthem, fireworks were let off, dancers appeared and did their thing, then the band marched off somewhere else and it all went back to a normal manic city centre.  If it weren't so bloody cold I could really like La Paz. 

Macchu Pichu

So excited to see Jan,  getting water-bombed 3 times & covered in shaving foam on the way to the airport (carnival) could not dampen our spirits. Poor Jan had jet leg to cope with as well as the change in altitude so we spent a few days exploring Cusco and doing lots of catching up, getting ourselves match fit for our trek. 

On the advice of other travellers we'd hired a porter for the trek which meant we carried our day packs but he carried our sleeping bag, roll mat & 2kg of other stuff for us.  When packing for 4 days in a climate that changes massively every 30 minutes (fierce sun followed by torrential rain by day, torrential rain and -5 by night) 2kg doesn't cover much so we agreed to forgo toiletries other than toothpaste, loo roll & one bar of soap, and wear everything we owned at night time. All good unless our one pair of boots/trousers/fleece got wet...

We'd chosen our trek company carefully based on them being Peruvian owned and having a good rep for treatment of porters (Trek Peru). This paid off as not only were the logistics handled really well but it meant we trekked with 13 like minded others. Our porters travelled with us to the start point (km82) where they skipped on ahead and we began the first days walk.   A relatively gentle day to break us in, it stayed dry & when we got to camp one the porters had got the tents up & a 3 course dinner for us. 

Cook & his assistant never failed to impress. The camps are carried from place to place in total so he has nothing more than a gas canister style camping stove but provided huge amounts of food (never the same meal twice) for c40 people 3 times a day. On day 3 he made and iced a cake for us. I can't do that in a fixed kitchen in London. 

To ensure the porters aren't abused our group had a weight limit p/person. This meant in total we had 16 Trekkers, 2 guides, 2 cooks, and 20 porters. The porters sleep in the meal tent in the same kit as us - we saw other porters sleeping in toilets to avoid the rain as their shonky company didn't provide them with tents - this is no reward for carrying around 20kg+ on the same difficult & treacherous routes - but nearly twice as fast as we could manage and with around 10% of their load. We had awe, respect and gratitude for their efforts - but still there is something amusing about watching men who rarely top 5'2" carrying huge packs that are bigger than them up & down mountains at speed.  

The afore mentioned toilets are 'day-5 festival long drops' with no running water. Using them took a very deep breathe and the threat of kidney failure if you didn't.  So it must be an act of desperation for other company's porters to be using them as accommodation.  This is no thanks for their legendary efforts.

Day 2 is notoriously the hardest as it starts at 6am with a 5 hour climb to Dead Woman's Pass (4215m) followed by a 2 hour descent down steep, steep stones.  The first half of the day was by far the easiest as despite the lung-busting climb it stayed dry.  Most of us were following the porters lead (they do it weekly but still huff & puff their way up this bit) and chewed coca leaves to manage the altitude sickness.  We were told at breakfast to go at our own pace, but to make that 50% of our normal pace as the trick is slow and steady. We were to expect nausea, dizziness, headaches and mood swings - anything else we had to sit on a rock and wait for the guides (leading from the back) to reach us with the oxygen bottle. 

Coca leaves taste vile, leave your face numb and, if like me you can't do proper man-spits, mean you spend the day with green bits in your teeth. They also relieve headaches within minutes, stop dizziness and give you a short term hit of energy to keep mind and body in good check.  You don't chew them so much as cram a wad of leaves in the side of your mouth and press the juices out until for 20mins or so. Gives the appearance of a cowboy with baccy, or a hamster.   Not a strong look but when you're wearing old clothes and turning things inside out counts as 'clean', it's not a massive concern. 

Coca leaves also hold significant value to Incas who gift them to the earth mother (pachumama) and the animal spirit guides in ceremonies. Our assistant guide Pedro followed Inca tradition and on day 3 performed a prayer for safety at the top of the second pass which we all took part in. As he spoke in Quechen we understood very little but there was something moving about standing atop of Andean mountains, hearing a true believer give thanks to Mother Nature and seek protection for the remainder of our journey.  We all gifted our best coca leaves beneath a stone collected from the valley that morning and braced ourselves for the descent. 

Back at the notorious Dead Women's Pass the rain started and the normally difficult descent became treacherous. The drops alongside the stones are very steep, slippy and unforgiving, and seeing others fall focussed the mind quickly so we went slowly. The rain poured and the wind blew our stupid ponchos over our faces obscuring vision so we went slowly, fearfully and coldly. 

It took hours to get to camp 2 but despite seeing several casualties along the way all of our group made it home safely and in daylight.  By now we were soaked, our kit was damp (porters rely on the same cheap ponchos to cover person&bags in one), and the tents were pitched in soggy ground. Proper camping! 

Sleeping at altitude, in damp clothes, in a damp sleeping bag is an odd and not entirely enjoyable thing but all part of the package. We were part of a group of 16 people ranging from 21 to 51.  So different ages, abilities, experiences and expectations - but completely on the same page that despite any hardship or difficult conditions - we all loved the actual trekking (or at least the feeling of completing some parts!) and we were all going to have a laugh while doing it.  We have been assured that this is not always the case and small camp sized civil wars have been known.  However we were left with a sense of camaraderie that is difficult to reproduce other than through exhaustion, damp, discomfort and a joint feeling of doing something extraordinary - we had such a great group for this and it really does make a fantastic experience even more special when you get to meet great new friends along the way.

We all slept intermittently but as the night got colder it got harder. The 5.30 wake up call was a relief and putting on the same day-clothes again we set off for the longest days walking...

Over 6 hours we descended through cloud forest into jungle and the change in oxygen levels as we dropped 1000m was palpable.  Rain bursts made us expert at poncho changing (grab the persons in front, throw it over their head & pack while someone else does the same for you) as when it starts you've got seconds to avoid being drenched but the minute it stops the ponchos serve as an unpleasant one-man sauna.  

Despite the rain and the section with 3000 steps down (knee problems anyone?) we saw some fantastic views that day. The inca ruins are impressive of course but the Andes themselves steal the show.  Rain is an annoyance but the constantly changing cloud form meant the view was different every time we looked up. 

Knackered but happy we were ready to hit the cold ground sheets at 9pm in preparation for the final day.  Just before bed it was time to thank our porters and the cook, this consisted of an introduction to each man - who supplied his name and age.  We have no idea why they do that, and we really struggled to hold our 'inappropriate laughter valves' as the group gasped at the news that some were 40+ and some were under 25... Plain bizarre but very entertaining - didn't change our levels of respect - as our 'volunteer' spokesmen Justin and Matt ably and sincerely shared.  After the touching words and feelings of real gratitude welled, the porters surrounded us and shook hands with us all in turn while exchanging pleasantries with us at navel height... So glad those laughter valves were still just about in tact!

Day 4 begins at 3.30am and off everyone walks to the sun gate to watch Machu Pichu emerge with day break.  The reality is all 500 of the Trekkers (that's the daily volume of licences issued so there were probably less than that as we're in low season) have the same idea so the hours of slippy narrow path walking are done largely in single file but in very high spirits as all the effort is about to pay off.   Machu Pichu is of course stunning. The largest of its kind, steeped in mystery (no one knows why it was abandoned), hidden by trees until 1911 and surrounded by incredible mountains every step is worth it.  Huge smiles and some tears were shared in the group as we realised we'd completed an amazing experience - and another one that will stand out in our Americas travels.

Of course you can avoid effort and save 4 days by taking the train up, or by staying in a hotel in the nearest valley town & taking the early bus up but then you only see the site from the site, not from the mirador we had at The Sun Gate.  With a sense of entitlement and superiority over the day trippers we walked the final hour to the site itself and became acutely aware of how bad we smelt but really didn't care. 

By 11.30  we'd toured the site and got down to the nearest town where we had beer & pizza. Then more beer. Exhausted but very very happy. 

Several hours later, drunk with camaraderie and booze we got a bus back to Cusco. Acknowledging our ragged state the driver encouraged us to relax and sleep the 2 hours home then put Eye of the Tiger on full blast and drove into a rock/dog (not sure which).  Back to normality.... 

On the buses

To keep the back-packing karma balanced we moved from the Galapagos to a week of bus travel.  With the exception of a day on a dry forest farm (belonging to our Galapagos guide & his wife) we spent the next 5 days in a zen-like trance to ignore the fact our legs were crammed into Latam size gaps while we shared air and bathrooms with 48 other travellers. 

The dry forest farm was great - we met Fabians wife, Lucia as planned ('take a cab out of Quito to the fried chicken stand near a supermarket on the north bound highway. She'll be in a dark pick-up') and drove up into the mountains.  Despite the environment the farm has been worked to now have sufficient irrigation for 70+ species of fruit & veg. And cows, horses, dogs & llamas.  We grabbed our baskets and went for a tour, collecting whatever we wanted to eat/drink along the way.   In tribute to childhood trips to 'pick your own' fruit farms we ate more than we carried in our baskets and a few hours later started to question the sense of that. Eating kilos of tree-tomatoes, avocados, passion fruit and oranges before a night bus with no toilet was not necessarily the best plan*.

Anyway, great day and very interesting to see how 2 biologists are making arid nothingness into lush farmland, despite the Ecuadorian governments best attempts at strangling them with red tape. 

The rest of the week went like this: 

13 hour night bus from Quito to the Peruvian border 

1 hour bus from the border to the nearest transport hub- turns out to be a man with a mini-bus & 2 plastic chairs for us to wait on. Which we did.  For hours. 

4 hours through desert to the nearest town. 

9 hours through the night from that town to a recommended beach area (Trujillo).

Arrived at 6am & got a local bus to Huanchaco, found a hostel & stayed there 24 hours. 

People told us north Peru has good beaches, this being the best. but we were less than impressed. Great for surfing but otherwise dirty (not the fault of Peruvians necessarily but the wash from the Pacific Ocean is pretty grim on this bit of coast) with nothing else of interest around.  The upside for us was a night in a real bed, food, and a change of clothes. 

Next night we got the 9 hour bus to Lima (charmless, cloudy & grubby), kicked our heels for 7 hours then got on the 21 hour bus to Cusco.  By this time I'd got quite happy with sleeping on buses (it helped me to sleep on the move as I still hadn't got over motion sickness from the boat) but Chris is too tall to get comfy- even on the luxury service we chose for the longest leg. 

21 hours spanning very hot desert to the chilly Andes was beautiful even if the notoriously carefree driving style along mountain ridges was sometimes a bit unnerving. We woke up (eventually- no idea what day by this stage) to snow capped mountains, cloud forest and an altitude difference of c3000m . 

Time to get off vehicles for a week, get acclimatised to thin air and get excited about meeting our friend Jan who'd flown out from the UK to walk the Inca Trail to Machu Pichu with us. 

 * stupid, stupid thing to do. Spanish lessons came into their own with hurried pharmacy visits at bus stations as that is one conversation we didn't want to have to resort to mime on. 

Viva la Evolution! (Or The Galápagos Islands)

We booked this bit of our trip months before we left the UK so have had a long time to get excited about it. It's a 9 day non-backpacking holiday in the middle of a massive holiday, staying on a luxury yacht in one of the most ecologically diverse regions of the world. 

200k people a year are allowed to visit the Galapagos.  Of them 60% visit the inhabited areas which make up 3% of the Islands landmass - from there people can get excursions to the immediate surrounding areas. The other 40% of us take our sea sickness pills and get to visit the extensive unpopulated areas.  Very very privileged.  

The islands are 1000km away from mainland Ecuador and are formed from volcanic eruptions so they were never attached to other land masses. Years of tectonic plates shifting around hasn't bought them close enough to anywhere else for species to merge so, with the exception of introduced species by man (dogs, goats etc.) they remain populated with endemic species.  Some reptiles have reached here on vegetation rafts from Ecuador, but no mammals would survive the 2 week+ voyage.

Survival of the fittest means the plants and animals have adapted to their environment in the optimal way so that only the best of each kind now exists. There are no large carnivores (all the reptiles have taken herbivore niches) so fear/camouflage are redundant and all specifies are quite relaxed to show themselves to human visitors. 

Each night we sailed to a new island and spent the days walking, swimming and snorkelling around key points, getting up close and personal with stunning creatures and landscapes. 

The boat: Queen Beatriz holds 15 guests with a crew of 8. It's a catamaran with a bar, sun deck, restaurant and bedrooms. Just big enough to feel plush but small enough to get us around quickly. 

The people: largely retirees due to the cost of doing this but we had a really good bunch. For the first 3 days 2 Aussie honeymooners our age, for the  remainder they were replaced with 2 feisty Sheila's from Queensland. The rest of the gang were ex-colonials with the exception of Fabian our guide. 

The route: it takes weeks to sail around all the islands so we'd opted for the central, south and East Islands. It meant we'd miss the specialist birds watching, but as that takes 2 days sailing north it was a fair trade.  As it was I had to spend the first night on our balcony keeping my eyes on the moonlit horizon to keep sickness at bay so 2 days of open water (the max we did was 7 hours overnight) would have ruined me.

It's so hard to describe how incredible the trip was. The days were high point after high point. Once we'd got over gawping at giant iguanas on lava fields, we'd be snorkelling with sea lion pups, climbing into lava tubes (darker than dark and perfect for hiding a very preciousss ring) or knee deep in vegetation in a could forest with giant tortoises. Each day we had at least 3 excursions off the boat to see something different - each one just at incredible as the last. Even with my verbosity I was out of superlatives by day 2.   We have hundreds of photos and if anyone back home so much as hints at wanting to see them we will gush with enthusiasm for hours (be warned) but for the sake of brevity - here's an attempt at edited highlights....

Sea lions. The Labradors of the Galapagos are everywhere. The bulls are huge and aggressive but thankfully not that interested in humans. 

The females are either supervising the nurseries or out hunting (if one gets eaten by a shark while out, the pups are left to starve. Very sad but adoption is just not a thing in this species) and will give the odd warning bark but otherwise are happy to watch humans get very close. 

The pups are the most fun! Like all kids they're curious and playful and if you do the 'come and play' sign (a body roll) they don't need asking twice. We both drank lots of sea water and bashed our limbs on the rocks as we tried to keep up with them but the joy of tumbling with several pups at a time, eye to eye as you swim under the water with them, and getting the odd slap as they investigate you close up (I got a slap in the face with a fin after a prolonged staring contest- I swear I heard it laughing as it swam off) is worth it every time.

Every time a large grey object appeared in our peripheral vision we hoped it was a sea lion and not a shark, but when we found sharks they were so serene fear was immediately replaced with awe. We swam with several reef sharks (white tips, wary of sea lion bulls) and were amazed how close they came to us. As we swam through a narrow cave in Kicker Rock (below) know as the washing machine due to a clash of tides and the tumultuous effect thereof, 5 circled around only metres below us.  30 mins later Chris &  I spotted the only hammer head shark of the trip. Approx 3m long and 1m away it was beautiful to see but also a bit frightening (completely frightening. Instead of giving the 'shark' alert to fellow swimmers I shouted 'f*#%ing hammerhead' in a pitch much higher than normal) as they're known for bad tempers even if they don't intend on eating you.  

We got out soon after and noticed that Chris was bleeding from being bashed on the rocks in the washing machine. Could explain the volume of sharks? 

Turtles: huge, graceful creatures in the water they come ashore to bury their eggs leaving tractor like tracks up the beaches.  There is a 2m distance rule for all the animals however sometimes they got closer to us quicker than we could get away - turtles seemed especially calm and if our underwater camera was any good, we should have some lovely shots of them swimming alongside us. 

Iguanas of many colours and sizes. 

These dragons have to warm up in the sun before they've got the energy to move much & even then only to eat or protect eggs. One spat at us rather than move off the trail (again, no appreciation of the 2m or the 'stay on the trail' rule). 

Most curious is the marine iguana - as adept in the water as out. Unless they get nabbed by a sea lion; Our morning snorkel took on a different note as one reptilian bather became a toy for a juvenile sea lion. Until, like all toys, it broke in half and was discarded. Messy. 

Giant Tortoises roam the clouds forests in a very other worldly fashion, tearing along at up to 3km per day if they need to, cold water penguins challenge the sea lion pups for Most Adorable award, flamingos eat shrimp until they turn pink and the water returns to transparency, bright red Sally crabs provide great contrast to the black rocks they sit on, blue footed Boobies do their dance to attract a mate while red footed Boobies woo with a noise like a creaking door. Groups of Sting Rays the size of bed sheets flap along so beautifully you could almost forgot to look at the plethora of fish, coral and crustaceans. Under the water there is a loud crackling noise which is the sound of shellfish chatting! Apparently it drives dolphins and whales mad with frustration as they never give it a rest. 

The other major inhabitant to note is the human. Mostly converted to the importance of conservation the few inhabited places co-exist well. Sea lions are the most prominent neighbour - they love a flat surface so will lie on every sun lounger, bench, restaurant table etc. and the locals aren't allowed to harass them away. 

They climb onto people boats, on the back of trucks and attempt to steal fish in the market by stealth - serving at the counter, and pretending to be part of the catch being 2 of the tricks we saw.  Sometimes a fishwife will turn the hose on them but they bloody love that and queue up for more. 

I got quite emotional on departure (and not just because of bumpy pacific flight ahead) and we vowed we'll return to do it all again. 8 magical days that will be really tough to beat. 

Quito - it's got altitude

The thing about cities is that they get a bit samey. Quito is pretty by night, the old town has plenty of colonial old houses, more churches than you can shake a catholic at, and some really quite dull museums (museum of money anyone?), but we didn't find enough stand out features to make it comparable with the other capitals we've seen.

It does however have altitude. At 2850 metres, you have to move slowly, eat little and often and knock the booze on the head.  As Quito is dry every Sunday (to try and get people to turn up to work on a Monday) that side of things was taken care of for us. We walked the old town, perused the markets and watched some dancing in a plaza before heading back to our hostel for Sunday night curry. 

The next day we got a couple of local buses to Mittel de Munde (middle of the world) to see the equator line.  Being on the exact line makes no difference to anything (the effects are the same roughly 10k either side) but it makes for a novel tourist attraction and plenty of cod-science.  As such we (along with our dorm mate Louie) marvelled at our ability to balance an egg on a nail (the yolk centres on the equator line making this possible), teetered along a painted line with our eyes closed (no idea what this was meant to prove but was funny watching people be very earnest about the powers of the equator), and posed for the mandatory 'we're at the equator' shot.  

There was also a much underplayed museum of Ecuadorian culture where they showed us shrunken human heads, and gave us a banana. Never worked out the relevance of the latter. 

The bus back meant we'd spent a massive $1.20 between us on travel ($40 if you take the package tour offered from the hostels to see exactly get same. Not sure if you get 2 bananas though for extra value). Grabbed our packs, and shared a cab with 2 Finnish travellers to the bus station (much small talk about The Killing was had). 

3.5 hours bus travel South and we arrived in Banos - a small town nestled between active volcanos, famed for its thermal baths and extreme sports.  It's a tourist hotspot for Ecuadorians and gringos alike so with much glee we found many cheap restaurants and went for a pizza & a litre of red wine for $12. 

Given we'd been ok in other altitudey venues the sickness came as a surprise! I put the headache down to booze and set off up the side of a volcano In order to peer at a much bigger volcano. About 30 mins in I got tunnel-vision and had to sit on the floor while it passed. Fearing a migraine we turned back and started descending at which point I lost depth perception. Probably very funny to watch as I took giant steps to get down tiny inclines and fell on my arse several times but it was the longest and most stomach churning stroll I've ever had.

2 days in bed, massive amounts of water, ibuprofen, no booze or coffee and I could get to the loo and back without falling over and everything. 

Fixed, we went walking up hills and cross rivers as we'd originally planned.  The cloud was too low to see the volcanic action but we still endured the night time disco bus up to a viewing point in the hope it might clear. It didn't, but on the upside the sound system failed so we were spared the ear splitting disco beats along the way.

Rested, far more respectful of the powers of altitude and with a huge amount of growing excitement we headed back to Quito to a swanky hotel for the start of our galapagos trip.