Day 51: Titicaca's floating islands

After all the excitement of Machu Picchu, Wednesday (Day 49) was a recovery day eating very nice ceviche in Cuzco for 7 soles (£1.50) from San Pedro market, and Thursday (Day 50) was spent mostly on a bus through awesome valley scenery to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca, 3800m up.


Today I went to see the main attraction of this bit of the lake: the remarkable floating islands of Uros (pic). Made out of reeds – and constantly replenished from the top as they rot through from the bottom – they are about the size of a tennis court or football pitch. Obviously you wouldn't play either because you'd keep losing the ball. They do have a 'capital' island though, with a bar and restaurant and even post office.


Each island supports a few families who live in little houses also made of reeds (pic). I don't know why they don't live on the land instead, because there's plenty of it all around the lake. Perhaps they just didn't get on with the neighbours.


If living here was a way to avoid visitors then it hasn't worked, because the islands are busy with tourists every day, seeing the inhabitants' unique lifestyle. Here are four ladies (pic) discussing local customs, such as how much to overcharge the gringos for a postcard.


Clearly you can't grow much here. In fact the only local produce they can eat is fish (pic) and the thick white bases of the reeds themselves. They call them 'reed bananas', because they taste just like reeds.





They get around between the islands on splendid traditional boats, made of reeds (pic). If they want to get to town though, on the shore half an hour away, to buy some food that isn't fish or something that isn't made of reeds for instance, they go by motorboat. Otherwise it would take all day.


The houses are really quite comfy inside (pic) thanks to the soft reed floors. They have solar panels which supply power so they can do vital things such as watch football on the telly.

Day 48: Machu Picchu

The final day of our four-day trek to Machu Picchu involved a 4am start, a walk by torchlight along pitch-black dirt roads, and a climb up 1400 steps to get to the ancient Inca site at dawn. It was cloudy and misty and very atmospheric (pic): much as it was when the local Incas abandoned their sacred hilltop town nearly 500 years ago, to prevent it being found by the invading Spanish. Well, much the same, apart from coachloads of tourists all taking selfies and talking over their guides. Perhaps it's ended up being invaded after all.


The early start isn't just to beat the crowds (even more arrive at 10ish, the daytrippers from Cuzco). It's also to see the sunrise over the dramatic sweep of the old town and its surrounding mountains. As it turned out we had a fine view of some clouds instead.


The site itself is quite astounding – photos don't do justice to the sheer majesty of the setting – and it takes hours to explore. It's a whole city (pic), complete with temples and farms and houses. Not, though, toilets. To go to the toilet involves walking half a mile back to the entrance and going outside, then queueing for half an hour to get back in. That's much more of a challenge than the hour-long steep morning climb to get here...


...or indeed the even steeper 90-minute climb up Machu Picchu mountain itself, which overlooks the abandoned city and offers awesome views of the surrounding mountains (pic). I kept stopping pretending to take pictures. In fact I was getting my breath back.


I did make it to the top, though (pic). It's 3082m up here: 1200m of climb since the start of the day. That toilet entrance is a very long way away, and it was a hot day so I'd been swigging lots of water on the way up, but fortunately there are plenty of tree-lined places to admire the view from.


The panoramic views from the top were fantastic (pic) and there was a sociable atmosphere, with everyone who'd made it up in a jubilant mood. From here it was 1200m of thigh-trembling, steep-stepped descent back to Machu Picchu and Aguas Calientes for our train and bus back to Cuzco. It reminded me of why I like cycling: you can freewheel down the downhills... but today was the fine climax of a wonderful four days, a real trip to remember.

Day 47: Ziplines and railways

Today's attraction, on the third day of our multi-activity journey to Machu Picchu, was zipwiring. This set of lines was strung across the vast canyon near Santa Teresa (pic), and offered five crossings of 300m-500m. It's the nearest you can get to flying, apart from if your line were to break.


Some people were brave enough to do the 'Superman' pose (pic). I'm not Superman. I'm more Clark Kent.


Each trip took around thirty seconds. More fun than bungee jumping or skydiving, in my experience – I really enjoyed the mid-air views (pic) and would jump at the chance to do it again. Er, literally.



After all that excitement, we had a few hours walking alongside a railway line – (pic) the only way of getting to Aguas Calientes, the access town for Machu Picchu – through dramatic valley scenery. It was entertaining to watch the locals (for whom this is their usual walk to work or school) casually dodging the train when it roared past. It's not dangerous of course. In the event of a collision, the train would hardly suffer any damage.

Day 46: Hiking an Inca Trail

Today was the hiking day of our four-day jungle trek to Machu Picchu. Much of the time our group (pic) followed one of the old Inca Trails that were the empire's transport network. We passed through coffee and coca plantations, and the air was fragrant with the smell of mango, pineapple and avocado trees, and vast quantities of mosquito repellent.


The views over the river valley were tremendous (pic). It was very far-sighted of the Incas to put their trails through such tourist-friendly, picturesque scenery.


There was a lot of this sort of thing...


...and with 300m sheer drops like this off one side of our often very narrow path (pic), recovery of a dropped camera would be unlikely. Or of a careless hiker.



At one point we had to cross the river via this entertainingly basic apparatus (pic) run by locals, a sort of cross between a cable car, a milk crate, and a fairground ride.


Our reward at the end of the full day's walk was a dip in the thermal pools of Santa Teresa (pic), full of animated locals enjoying a Sunday out. And of tired gringos enjoying a beer.

Day 45: Biking Abra de Malaga

I've signed up for a four-day 'jungle trek' to Machu Picchu, which involves a variety of methods of getting from Cuzco to the famous lost Inca city: hiking, zipwiring, and – today, the first day – biking. A minibus whisked our group up into the mountains via the pleasant Inca town of Ollantaytambo (pic). There's no shortage of altitude round here.

At the top of the Abra de Malaga, we were issued with more safety equipment than Buzz Aldrin took the moon (pic): elbow pads, body armour, helmets, shin- and knee-pads, reflective jackets, and kevlar-reinforced gloves... for cycling on a very lightly-trafficked, well-tarmacked, smooth road. I was surprised they didn't issue us with guns and walkie-talkies, too.



We were on 27-gear mountain bikes, none of which we actually used, because we had 45km of downhill (pic) through astounding canyon scenery. The bikes didn't have mudguards either, and it was chucking it down with rain. Not that they would have stopped us from getting soaked: there were about a dozen ankle-deep mountain streams that crossed the road surface that we had to pedal through. It was all great fun.


It was nearly two hours of freewheel to the village bottom (pic), where our minibus picked up us, our bikes, and our Robocop outfits. We celebrated with a beer in the local store. Well, we'd just cycled nearly 50km.

Day 44: Cuzco

I arrived yesterday, Day 43, in Cuzco. Once this was the Inca capital of Peru. Now it's the tourist capital. The fine central square, Plaza de Armas (pic), is unusual in having not one but two cathedrals. And not unusual in having not one but two thousand souvenir shops, travel agencies and pricey restaurant-bars.


This morning, after a 4 sol (80p) two-course lunch of soup and fried fish in San Pedro market, I was pleased to happen upon this colourful fiesta (pic) in nearby San Francisco square. Not because of the young people in their fancy outfits...


...but because there were lots of stalls selling home-made cakes (pic). Not fresh cream, but apparently, milking a llama is much trickier than a cow.

In the afternoon I climbed up the steep old Inca alleys and stairways of San Blas (pic) to the hilltop statue of Christ the Redeemer that overlooks the city. It was lovely and peaceful here, apart from the gasping of breathless gringos who climbed up instead of getting the bus, and the relentless sounds of El Condor Pasa wafting up from the pan-pipe buskers in the town below.





From up top was this fine view of the Plaza de Armas (pic). Somewhere here is an Irish pub, which claims to be the world's highest. Funnily enough, there was one back in Chivay that said the same.


On the way back I saw this man leading his llama (pic). Don't suppose he was taking it for milking.

Day 42: Chivay: Hot springs

I got a morning bus back up the awesomely scenic Colca Canyon. It was excitingly full of locals en route to work in the fields, wielding spades and picks and bags full of things that smelt of alpaca. I couldn't photograph any of this as it was too tightly squeezed for me to get my camera out my pocket.


At Chivay, the service town at the head of the canyon, I walked a few kilometres along the top of the canyon (pic). It was sweaty work, but fortunately I was heading for the town's thermal baths, nestled in the hills.


I spent a couple of hours lounging in the hottest and most scenic pool (pic), mostly having the place to myself on this quiet weekday morning. And, mindful of fellow passengers on my afternoon bus back to Arequipa, I took a taxi back to town rather than attempt another sweaty walk.

Day 41: Colca Canyon

A 3.30am bus clunked us from Arequipa through astounding mountain scenery towards Colca Canyon. En route we stopped at Chivay, a small town where I snapped these ladies (pic) chatting in the market square. As all over the world, the smaller the place, the more there is to talk about.


Anyway, Colca Canyon is on the tourist tick-list because it's the Americas' second deepest at 3919m. (The deepest is Cotohuasi, nearby.) The viewpoint at Cruz del Condor (pic) gives you an astounding view to the bottom, 13000 feet down.

You can often see condors at the top, too, and indeed we did: a huge handsome specimen swooped by. Too quickly for me to photograph it, though.


I got off the bus at Cabanaconde, a small town at the head of the canyon. When I arrived it was rush hour (pic).


I hiked to some of the viewpoints around town that overlook the canyon (pic). With the high altitude and overhead sun ultra-strong in UV, I'm getting through sunblocker quicker than water.


One of the viewpoints is by the town football pitch (pic) which has one of the world's more spectacular settings of a local footy team. Beats Hackney Marshes.

Day 40: Arequipa

A quiet day of errands – laundry, fixing up bus tickets, finding a cash machine that actually recognises my Halifax credit card and so on – but today's snaps included this impressive morning view, from the hostel terrace, of the city's surrounding ring of volcanoes. Yes, some are still active. There are also frequent earthquakes. House insurance policies must make an interesting read here.

Day 39: Arequipa

After a night in the hotel opposite Quito's south bus terminal, Quitumbe, I spent Day 38 getting to Quito airport and hanging around for my evening departure to Lima. And then a tedious overnight in Lima airport waiting for my 5.30am plane to Arequipa, down in the south of Peru. (It was by far the cheapest way of buying some quick distance – shortcutting four or five overnight buses.)


Anyway, I arrived in Arequipa around 8am today, Peru's second city, whose handsome volcanic-rock old-town sits dramatically at the foot of some mighty volcanoes – Misti, Chachani, and Picchu Picchu – and whose main square (pic) is rather fine.


There was some sort of festival going on, with lots of marching bands and so on, and lots of people in traditional costume – big gaudy skirts for both men and women, embroidered tops for the women, and lampshade hats for the men. All very dashing, but looks very hot.


In the afternoon I strolled round the Convent of St Catherine (pic): Arequipa's main attraction, a sprawling ancient convent in the centre of town that is more of a walled village in itself, like London's Tower. The blurb talks about the nun's cells being 'austere', but they looked fine to me, comfy and roomy and warm in the equatorial climate – certainly better than my freezing and pokey college rooms at Oxford, for instance.

Day 37: Cuyabeno: Socialist spiders

Our final wildlife-spotting boat trip was early this morning, on our last day in the Cuyabeno reserve. We saw monkeys and all sorts of birds including this tiger heron (pic), which looked much perkier than we did at six in the morning...


...but I was most intrigued by the Social Spiders. They live in colonies of a couple of hundred, and spin a communal web (pic) that engulfs several trees like a giant mosquito net. No doubt this socialist approach to division of labour and ownership of resources means they are much better off than their neo-liberal counterparts who constantly battle inequality and unfairness.

Then, sadly, it was time to go home, with the day-long journey by boat and bus back to Quito, from where I'll be making my way by air to Peru. I hope.

Day 36: Cuyabeno: Spiders, walking trees and sunset beers

Spending a few days in the Ecuadorian Amazon is a great chance to see wildlife – such as this tarantula (pic) – without having to even leave your room. Actually, these tarantulas are welcome: they're harmless to humans, gobble up cockroaches and other pests, and quite readily vacate the bed when you ask them.


This morning we had a guided jungle walk learning about the chemist's shop that is the rainforest: plants cure all ills, perfume your hut, provide all-purpose superglue, and clean your teeth. There were also curios such as a 'jungle phone' (a hollow resonant tree that you bash to send a distress signal far and wide when you're lost) and this 'walking tree' (pic: it creeps a few metres a year by dropping down new roots).



This is a 'boiler ant'. If it bites you, you get a free helicopter ride. That's because the nearest hospital is four hours away by boat and bus. You'll understand why I didn't get much closer to photograph it.


In the evening, we went on a nice boat trip to the lake to see the interesting creatures feeding – specifically, travellers from the lodges necking sunset beers (pic). Hello Doreen and Simon (front) and Rick and Ning (behind them) – great to have your company over the last few days. I'm at the back of course. It was only the humdrum local stuff, Pilsener, but seeing as the nearest real ale was in Quito, twelve hours away by boat and bus, I wasn't complaining.

Day 35: Cuyabeno: Cassava, football and shamans

This was our day exploring local villages, to see something of how the indigenous people go about their daily life, an hour's boat ride downriver. En route we saw some river dolphins, unphotographably fast but wonderful to see, plus many more animals whose names we were told and instantly forgot, like this, er, bird... (pic)





...and this, er, monkey (pic).


Ah, but I know this one! It's a toucan (pic). They should sell Guinness in the lodge bar - they'd make a fortune from the Pavlovian reaction.


We arrived at the community of San Antonio (pic), a collection of huts by the river. A simple village of perhaps 80-odd people, but with all the necessities for a good life, such as a football pitch.


Oh, and its own food supply, of course. Not only fish from the river, but also coffee beans (pic)...

...cocoa beans, to make chocolate... (pic).




...and yucca (also called manioc). This is a big root vegetable, a bit like potato. The women of the village are very handy with machetes to replant them, dig them up and chop them (pic). The men here go hunting and are very strong and tough, but they don't argue with the women of the village.





When the yucca has been chopped, dried (by wringing it out in an ingenious twisty wicker bag) and sieved into a powder, it's then toasted on a hot plate (pic) into a sort of pancake they call cassava. They only put in the powder – no need to add water or eggs or anything.

We had it with tuna and some village sauce that was very spicy. It was delicious, but sadly they don't have the tradition of flipping them here, so there was no chance for a pancake race.


There was, however, the chance of a football match on the local pitch. Ecuador (consisting mainly of the guides, a villager or two, and some Dutch tourists signed on loan) beat the Rest of the World (consisting of tourists, including me) 6-2. I was unlucky to miss out on a hat-trick, falling just three goals short.


Finally we visited a shaman, Tomas (pic). He's the local wise man for the villages, an expert in prescribing natural medicines when people are ill. (He sends them to a western hospital if it's something better treated there, but that's four hours away by boat and road, and usually he can make them better with things he makes from local plants.) He drinks a special potion that puts him in into a trance so he an ask his ancestors for advice. We didn't get to try the potion of course. We had to make do with Pilsener lager from the lodge bar later on. Not even Guinness.

It takes 25 years to learn how to be a shaman, including a year spent living alone in the jungle, learning how to survive. Tomas gave us a demonstration of a healing ceremony, and I was the volunteer subject. I know I look haggard and exhausted, but the football was even more tiring than when I play with Joe and Brendan. I looked even worse before the healing ceremony.