Last time I wrote I was arriving in Lima for my group tour. That day was testing... It was the first time I remembered I am travelling alone. I already felt very homesick, although I'm afraid to say that homesick feeling was for Santa Cruz just as much as for London. Obviously spending two months there made leaving very off and very sad. As I left Lima airport and had to make the decision of what taxi or bus to take alone, seeing other groups of girls travelling together doing the same; I suddenly felt very lonely. However on arrival at the hotel and a brief walk around the ugly block, I was faced with the decision of staying in my room skyping and emailing people and wallowing in my misery, or 'manning up' and going for lunch with the random mix of people who had congregated in reception. Walk around the ugly city with people you don't know and make polite conversation or catch up on sleep and relax talking to friends and family from home... You'll be pleased to hear I went for the lunch and immediately began to have a laugh with the people in my group and had my first paddle in the pacific.The next morning we took an early flight to Cuzco. I soon got to know all of the group and found from then on I was one of few people who chatted to and got along with everybody. There were natural divides in the group; those who wanted to party, sometimes a little too hard, and those who wanted to squeeze every bit of culture possible out of each place, those who preferred to do things alone and remained more allusive, those who had also been doing
volunteer work in south america before, and it goes on! But the group seemed to have one main divide; the 'party goers' who wanted to make the most of 'local produce' on a regular basis, and
then the rest of us, consisting of the lone travellers, which is the bulk of the group.
Generally I found I personally got along well with everybody, so I found the tour a real success in this aspect, and have walked away with a handful of new good friends.
So in Cuzco we had 2 days to sort ourselves out and see the city , which is the 2nd largest in Peru, before we began our trek. In these 2 days I saw my university housemates Katie and Fi for dinner, this was the first time I had seen anyone from home in over 2 months. It was
great to see them although quite off suddenly hearing news from home. I remembered how home is never that far away and my escapism I had been enjoying was slightly burst by all of the gossip from home. Whilst seeing them made me realise how much I miss my friends, I don't miss
all of the going and out and gossip from Surrey/Newcastle/London. So we left Cuzco fpor the tour of the sacred valley. This is the beginning of the Inka route from Cuzco. We visited tiny villages where the al paca produced clothing you see all of the travellers drowned in is
made. Whilst it was fascinating to see the countryside and the origins of the Inca culture, you can see the footsteps of the thousand travellers before. We then arrived in Ollantaytambo, wher ewe saw the beginning of the Inca ruins. The next morning, it began, the trek, the bane of my being for 4 days, my everest! We went to the starting point
bys, Kilometre82, we began walking and at this point I was unaware of ym embaressing fitness levels comapred with others, or of the obscene distance that would grow between the group and then me and steph (my fellow slow walker) as the trek went on. On the first morning, my friend Chris, my 'big brother' in the group spurred me on acting as my personal trainer. When we arrived at lunch I hit a brick wall. I suddenly felty so physically exhasuted I couldnt eat, drink or even sit up at the table. The train ahd also started at this point, and the news of the lack of bathrooms for the subsequent 4 days was broken to me. I broke down at this point. Soon we were rushed on from lunch, and a decision ahd been quickly made without everyones consent to do an extra 3 hours walking than the orginial plan that dat. I was offered the option to turn back with our nubmer 2 guide Kennedy, but this would ionvolve the full 5 hours already achieved inr everse. I said i would wait until that night and make a decision. My friends Kim, and Steph convicned me to stick with them at the abck and take the afternoon slowly; Steph and I took this to a new limit. We soon ahd both guides with us, one each, as the rest of the group were ;left to power to the campsite and relax. Manuel, the headguide, walked with me having a very deep chat about opening your soul to life... in Spanish. If the walk hadn't already taken it out of ,me then that certainly did! Evetually he left the 2 of us with Kennedy. We were trekking up steep, stone steps in the dark. Kennedy would run up about 100 metres and sit back with his book waiting as we practically crawled up at a pace that to an outsider would appear to be stationary. Two porters were then set down to accompany Kennedy. (The porters carry our main duffels as well as the camping equipment so we only have a day bag, they practically run each trek to get to each site in advance and set up, they also include 2 chefs - luxury camping i know!) Each of the porters were then carrying our day bags. This actually became a comedy sketch. The 2 of us would stagger a further 5 steps before stopping and doing our best damsal in distress impression... 'kennedy.. i need my water', to which he would summon the approripate porter who would jump forward and give the drink to kennedy who would then pass it to us, 'kennedy.. i cant do this'.. 'please girls only 30 more minutes' 'you said 30 last time kennedy' 'yes but you havent moved since then.. come on girls pleease'. This became an ongoing joke with the group 'kennedy tell the porters to hurry up with dinner' 'kennedy tell the porters i want a foot massage' (I was asking for help putting bandages on my blisters, not a massage.. unbelievable!) 'Kennedy.. mkae the porters carry me' 'kennedy tell the porters to compliment me'. Obviously this joke became a vast exaggeration, however my poor little maddy/princess maddy/queen of sheeba reputation quickly caught on! On our final night however we then hada ceremony with the porters. Manuel explained how the night before when we had grumbled about the torrential rain they had not had tents to sleep in and then had run to the campiste the next day so our tents dried out before our arrival. Hearing this was icnredibly humbling, and half the group, (myself no surprise included) cried on hearing how the porters view the trekkers as a family they must protect. However it then bizarrely turned in to what felt liek an episode of take me out, whereby manuel called forward the singlke porters and they had to chose a girl. I was chosen (first, cough) so I then had to stand and have my photo taken, manuel said something (probably our voews) then hug and sit down. It was awkward with that porter the next day!
After the 2nd morning I got more into the swing of the trek, especially as we then past the highest point; Dead Womans Pass. I went from being miles behind the group to catching up and finding mysdelf, albeit birefly, somehwere in the middle. I spent a lot of time trekking alone as you naturally spread out. I really enjoyed this as you take in so much and really gain from the experience; those who raced at the front said they never had time to stop and think and take thigns in which I found sucha a shame for them. The final day was not just overcast.. we weere actually ina cloud. So when we reached the sun gate (after a 4am wakeup) and were supoosed to have the first view of machu picchu with the sunrise, you could hardly see you own hand. However the day cleared up, and so we spent the morning exploring the ruin of machu picchu. Whilst it was amazing, for me this was no way the highlight of the trek. I would say the 2nd evening was. After a nature filled walk, we reached was literally felt like the top of the world on a beautiful clear evening.
The trek taught me a lot; how to spur myself on when it seems impossible, how to appreciate what does come your way, how to squat (once in an inca ruin.. classy, and on another occasion on the side of a path thinking only steph was waiting, only to cause a 30 people queue of people craning their necks to see what the hold up was..) and that I never want to go on a walking holiday ("so does anyone actually enjoy this" apparently was my quote of the trek)!
After the trek we had a furhter night in Cuzco to celebrate. We then headed to Puno. Now I will make one thing clear; Cuzco is lovely city in itself not just for the exercusions, Puno - waste of a visit bar the kareoke bar! We then set off on our boat trip of Lake Titicaca. First we went to the island of taquile. Here we trekked (oh good) to the centre of the lakes largest island to have a family cooked meal on a mountain top with postcard worthy views. We then had a sweet man from the island show us the different styles of native dress only for this island, and how it explained your marital status must be distinguished in your clothing. We were explained how women on the island pick a suitable husband based on the knitting skills. This is ebcause knitting shows patience and care. Any future boyfriends will most certainly be requested to knit a scarf or 2.. Cuts costs on the winter wardrobe! We then headed off to the Peninsula where we would be staying for the night. But first those who wanted were given the chance to swim. Our guide told us in reference to the temperature of the lake that 'I've been in once in my life; this is enough'. Obviously I was in, straight off the top deck on the boats despite the 'ooh princess is doing it' comments! And my god, Lake titicaca is muy frio! We thena arrived and were met by the local village leaders and shown to the shcool, here a football was played against the locals, but the picturesque mountain top lunch hadnt been quite so picturesque on my digestion so I refrained from playing. We were then dressed up in the native dress of the Andies... 4 skirts, blazers, a sash and a bowler hat.. Just wait for the photo! We were taught how to dance, now when i said that dancing in santa cruz is different to in london, this took new levels to the word different! It was hilarious however, and however bad we were, especially compared with the children who then put on a show, I think it got some of the group morale back up! We then met our families who took us to the homes for night. Ainsley, who I shared a room with, and I were taken by Edgar and his 3 little siblings to his grandmothers house. The house consisted of various small buildings dotted around overlooking their plot of farm lands, and then the entire lake. The experience, despite the number of travellers they have stay (once a week for the last 3 years) felt incredibly native and was an obscene cultural insight. I can never imagineanother opportunity to be so welcomed into a house so different to what I am familiar with. The family were in the native inca dress, the son walks 5km every day for school, the whole family from the greatgrandfather to the 4 yer old are all on the same small patch sharing a bedroom, and all food is grown on sight or by neighbours before its traded between them. The following day we were supposed to help on the farms and in the kitchen. We helped in the morning in preparing the bed for breakfast. But aside from this the grandmother was adamant that we left her to her proud kitchen and take the children to play and to teach them a little English. Like I said, it was something I'll never experience again and was truly eye opening. However I do believe that the company are flogging and exaggerated and idealistic picture by saying that you help the families, because essentially they have coped perfectly well every other day without a few travellers 'helping', and I think it is in fact insulting to suggest that they need outside intervention or assistance when they have a perfectly loving and functioning community. We did however bring some produce from the mainland, such as rice and sugar, and when the grandmother produced her knitted souvenirs for us to buy I couldn't say no! However I have learnt that if in 2 months at the orphanage I couldn't do a great deal to help or change anything you certainly can't in one morning in someone's house. After leaving here we headed off to the floating islands. These were set up by communities who were ousted by both the Inca and Spanish regimes. By living on the water they avoid taxes or regime laws. Peruvian gypsies have far more creativity than the English gypsies!! We were shown how these islands are made, which need replacing every 60 years. You can not only feel that you are floating but the straw underneath your foot sagging... Slightly disconcerting. It is quite spectacular and bizarre that people live like this. They have solar electricity (apparently candles on an all straw island in an all straw house were proving to be problematic) but basically live an incredibly basic, but admirable lifestyle. It was fascinating to see such that such varying cultures and lifestyles, live side by side, and the numerous different ethnicities that exist within one country, which are not only so different to Western culture but also to one another. When people say 'it's a small world' they are wrong... It is actually a very big world with a hell load of variety in it.
After leaving Puno we then headed to Bolivia. This was the first time I hve ever experienced an overland boarder crossing... You really are treated like an immigrant; after queuing for hours on end you then walk up a hill and through an enormous archway carrying all of your bags; it was all very ethnic! Whilst the rest of the group spend the weekend in La Paz, my amazing friends in Santa Cruz organised for me to come back for the weekend to celebrate my birthday. This was a real treat as I had been missing Santa Cruz a lot. I then rejoined my group in Potosi (conveniently missing their overnight bus journey). Potosi is the highest city in the world at 5,000 feet; 1,500 feet higher than La Paz. It is also the only place you can legally buy dynamite and set it off, because of the strong mining heritage of the city.
We then travelled to Salar de Uyuni, a sleepy little town which only bears significance as the gateway to the salt flats and Bolivian desert. I was apprehensive about the salt flats due to my on-going stomach bacterial infection; so I felt a pure white desert wasn't the place for this! So we set off in the 4x4 jeeps on the morning of my birthday to cross the wilderness of the Bolivian desert. After visiting the salt factory and museum; where we literally everything is made of salt. Here I was surprised with an enormous cake for the start of what was in incredible birthday. We then headed across the salt flats, which are the remnants of what was once a sea, and in fact still holds water underneath. It really it stunning and bizarre. So the afternoon was mainly spent taking photos, before we then also visited the abandoned train cemetery. We then stayed at a small farm house hostel, miles from any civilization. Ordinarily it would just be a place to crash for the night; however our night played out a little differently. I briefly stepped outside and when I came back in I was surprised by pinadas, balloons, poppers, party hats and a lot of alcohol, included an immitiation of champagne I had to see of on entering the room. I couldn't believe the effort everyone went to, knowing that I couldn't get in contact with anyone from the outside world. I had the best birthday imaginable, although I think the locals running the hostel didn't appreciate the party that went on until about 5am, when they then had to prepare breakfast for us at 7. We then set off in our jeeps again for what was the most incredible day of my life! We crossed snowy mountains, vast sandy desert, green, blue and red lakes, and canyons all just hours apart from one another. The differing terrain and landscape was the most beautiful are I have ever seen. It shocks me that this area of the world and this desert crossing is not raved about more as it was literally incredible. After another farm house stay we then had a 4am wake up so that we made it to the gazas (where the gas leaks from the ground) and then to the natural hot springs for sunrise. This was definitely worth waking up at 4am for! We then crossed the Chilean boarder, and after hours of queuing we made it in to San Pedro de Atacama; a little country western looking village and travellers meka. Most of us then went sandboarding in the Atacama desert. On arrival I smugly strutted off, board under arm, without watching the demonstration saying as I can wake/snow board I already knew how. I did not realise the problem that you basically sink under the sand with the wrong technique. So for all to watch I stood stuck ankle deep in sand after they had been shouting to 'show them how its done'.. the cheering continued as they had not yet realised I literally couldnt move... how humiliating. We then climbed to a canyon top to watch the sun set and drink Pisco sours. Knowing my luck I actually missed the sunset as I had to go the 'bathroom' (another rocky squatting area) much to my groups amusement.
We then headed to Salta in Argentina for the wine tours, however my stomach bug caused me to miss these. Finally we reached Buenos Aires. I soon found Clara, this was our only 5 days together in 10 months. Clara joiend me and my group for the 'argentine experience' on the first night there, which was the final night with the group. Here we not only learnt some history and culture behind the cuisine but also how to prepare the traditional mate tea and empenadas. We then had an empeneda making competition, where Clara and I proved our lack of creative skills.
The group tour was amazing and I was so glad to do it. I have walked away with the most amazing month worth of memories and a handful of great new friends.
For the rest of the week in Buenos Aires Clara and I decided to explore by foot. We walked from downtown to the trendy neighbourhood of Palermo, down to the colourful houses of La Boca (before being told by the police we couldn't walk any further because there are 'muchos robbers', across to the glamorous Puerto Madera, round to the famous cemetery, and everywhere else inbetween. Buenos aires is a beautiful city and very diverse. On one street you feel you are in Europe, the next in Manhattan, and then as you stumble across some tango dancing in the street you remember you are in Latin America. I was able to meet a close friend of my godmother Janie's past, Patrick who now lives in Palermo. Much to my amusement he was able to tell me many stories of my parents and Janie's days of hitting the town in London, including about the night my parents met!
I then had a very emotional goodbye with Clara, knowing we wouldn't see each other again until August, as well as with my new favourite continent; South America; which I am returning to in May to continue my orphanage work.
It was then on to New Zealand, the post for that will follow shortly!
(May I apologise for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I tend to write these posts on my phone whislt on public transport and so my concentration wavers!)
