What to you after you see more aussies in a week than in four months.... Sorry Mum and Dad

An economic powerhouse of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the capital of Argentina, Buenos Aires has the culture, architecture, and style of a French, Italian, or Spanish city. Magnificent monuments of conquistadors, generals, independence heroes, and presidents; Gradiose european styled buildings and apartments; Vendors and markets hawking the latest fashion; and an elite that would make a burnsidian feel like a dirty old aussie derro. This city proper, far removed from the poverty of South America, and even the poorer suburbs of Boca and the like is firmly orientated to Europe.

After awe inspiring beuaty of South America, endless hikes, and a thousand old churches, what can I say....

Take BA, add backpacker hostel, add bar, add ten aussies, add heat, add the festive season and you can probably guess what happened next. With special mentioned to Blue and Ryan, a seven day bender, shaming any footy trip weekend at Melbourne with a litany of steaks, brews, vino´s, music, and parties. A traditional Christmas Eve dinner of Chinese takeaway at the hostel was followed by at a dance party that started at two, got kicking at three until we left after five. The after party, starting at 8am Christmas day held captive two of our aussies mates who duly arrived for Christmas lunch around 2pm.

Joined by Johana from Finland and our aussie bretheren, we dragged ourself towards Recoletta for a hearty Christmas steak and then afternoon / evening at a chilled little wine bar.

Today a BA lite, the impressive, but slightly run down city of Rosario is a pretty city holding a smiliar population to that of home. With a cost of living a third or a half of BA, the riverside city loses only a little culture, with a cafe of every street, street vendors and buskers in the main, monuments, impressive buildings, and the first house of Che Guevara.

It´s like a hurricane. You can see it coming from a mile away, you see the storm building on the horizon, you can feel it´s breeze before it get´s there, and when it gets there, it rains down on you. It´s as simple as that.
I always knew this feeling was invetiable. The night before it was going to come. Several hours in the shade, waiting your turn you know it is just around the corner. On your way up, your thinking it should be here by now. But then, the door is opened at it is time. It grips you like it never has before, you try to conceal it with a wry smile to little effect. These guys do this and see this every day after all. This fear, this gut wrenching fear is unsurpassed as you are about, or are expected to jump 3000 metres out of a moving plane.

Thankfully, these guys are old pro´s, even if they only provided a three minute safety talk prior, after all, what can you expect for $OZ150 anyway? Asked to move my feet out the door momentarily laspses my panic, but now I am truly scared. However, my partner grinding me into position, I realise the choice to jump is now not mine. The first seconds contain only panic, the next few joy with a scream of elation, then I can relax as I´m falling screaming and shouting down to earth over the next minutes. Absolutley FANTASTIC. Before I know it, the shoot is pulled and we float and I guide our parachute over the city, with a couple of spins and turns until we land on the field about five minutes later. I must say, that much adrenaline is coursing through your veins causes the concept of time to become meaningless. I could have last one minute or ten?!?! It was fantastic, you must do it and do it soon!!!

Cusco, Puno, and Lake Titicaca

After recovering from the hike and the odd celebratory drink in cusco for a day we hit the road for Puno and Lake Titicaca on a tourist bus ....... Local bus six hours, tourist bus nine with plenty of gringo stops and not even a 1980´s van Damme flick to pass the time. Worst bus ride ever!!!. At our designated feed trough, you were even charged for $1 for milk with coffee.

Our main purpose to utilise the harbour of Titicaca severly limited our exposure to the small city of Puno. A couple of gringo restaurants, bycicle taxi´s.... and oh yeah, Beth seems to think I am responsible for hangovers of the tour guide and a fellow travellor´s ?!?!?!?

Straddling Peru and Boliva 3,812m above sea level, Lake Titicaca is the largest lake above 3,000 metres covering 8,372 km². With two distinct ethnic groups, Quecha and Amayra, with multiple cultures over the 42+ islands, it has much to offer. Attracted in part by the name and the famed Uros people who reside in floating islands constructed with reeds, we departed on a overnight trip to visit several islands and a homestay.

Our first stop on Taquile and the last on one of the Uros Islands, although touristy and annoyingly so on the latter, still presented interseting insights into their cultures. The men of Quechan Taquile both farm and knit with all dressing according to their social position and marital status. Initially constructed to flee the constant fighting on the mainland, the Uros islands hold over 3000 Aymara on over 41 floating reed islands forming the Uros Islands. Each housing up to 10 families on each.

But not all was lost.... We arrived at Amantaní island for the homestay with expectations of a slice of local life, a family without English or Spanish, and a game of football (soccer). Disembarking, we ascended another 300 metres with Olga, the hostess with the mostess, welcoming us into her two story mudbrick home with introductions to her family of five. Fortunatly, Spanish was known and we conversed on the favourites.... Football, Kangaroo´s, the weather, and work. Misinterpriting Olga´s after dinner request to change in our party clothes, we headed up stairs and waited for her to escort us to the fiesta. I´ll let the picture tell the story of what she actually said.



Cerveza´s, music, dancing with our hosts to fifteen minute songs were the theme of the fiesta and all who partook enjoyed a memorably experience.

Random Thoughts
= I´ve had ¨Copa Copacabana¨ stuck my head for the past week, as the famed city, which is neither north or hotter than habana, inhabit the shores.
= Bolivia maintain an active Navy in Lake Titicaca despite it´s landlocked status.
= Residents of the Lake pay no taxes leaving one to suspect the government wants to retain the locals as the tourist attraction removing any reasons for economic migration.
= A few games of football were enjoyed on Amantani, which at the altitude, is not easy. Holding up the defense whilst my Spanish and Scottish team mates scored goal after goal the competition was flattened.

Machu Pichu

During the height of the Incan Empire, Machu Pichu was constructed in 1450, as one theory holds, as a city of religious importance. After three years of brutal Spanish rule, the puppet king, Manco Inca strategically fled Cusco for Vilcabamba bypassing and essentially hiding the nearby Machu Pichu, which was only 30 kms away. Even after the last Inca (king) was drawn and quarted or strangled, the whereabouts of the city where never revealed. It is thought the 1000 inhabitants fled to assist the assults of the Spanish. It was only in the early 20th century, it was rediscovered under the forests by workers of the railways who pillages the vast silver and gold, and notably by the Hiram Bingam in 1912, who pillaged over 3000 artifacts for private and public museums in the states.

Built with all the beuaty of remaining Inca sites, walls and terraces are constructed through hand polishing original mountain rocks and stones without mortar, but so precise that sunlight can not penetrate even the joins of a gardeners house.

Each morning, the sun gate shines sunlight through a window of the Temple of the sun, which at one point, illuminated a sacred object. Massive terraces produced coca, potatoes, maize, and orchids with Soil brought from a 1000 metres below. An impressive sundial directly between Machu Pichu and Wiynam Pichu mountains marks the equinox.



After one of only a few hundred who reach the site by hiking each day, it is easy to feel a sense of ownership when surrounded by the hoards of tourists who arrive by train or bus each day and only grasp a fraction of the story. Although we are by are wide and far not experts, if you do come, ensure you hike one of the many Incan trails.

It is apparent that for reasons of ignorance and racism, most students educated in areas with small indigenous populations have little or no knowledge of the Inca´s or Machu Pichu.

Cuy, Parasites, snow, rain, and steps, steps, and more steps

Although uneventful, our last day in Lima saw the addition of the local delicacy, cuy, to my list of gastronimcal feats. Although as difficult to eat as quail, with the same number of bones and limited meat, I found guinea pig very very tasty.

The ancient city of Cusco, pronounced Kosko, is the oldest inhabitated city in South Americam founded in 1100. As the centre of Incan power, holding 300,000 pre=industrial inhabitants, it oversaw an empire streaching from chile, through bolivia, peru, argentina, ecuador, and southern venezuala. At it's height, the empire of 12 million were experts in agriculture, architecture, textiles, and gold and silver metallurgy. Unfortunately, the viceroy's are celebrated for their bravado and the incan empire relegated to a footnote in most peruvian schools. Today, the city encorportates the same population, but with obvious spanish colonial western influence that befits any tourist haven.

Unfortunately for me, I spent my first three days holed up in the hostal with parasites in the stomach, a throat infection, and a head cold..... nice. In the next day, I will attempt to explore Cusco.

With the throat infection starting to clear and a determination not to spend the four days with the hump up, we set of to the starting point of the celebrated inca trail. One pit stop included a stop at a local indigenous villiage. Their existance is modest, but deep in tradition and culture. Opportunities are limited, with men working the trail as porters and the women tending the farms, children, and weaving. A change in fate is only through education generally leading to tourism.

Spending a night Ollantaytambo, we visit the local ruins. Description to come....
One a side note, I first hear of the qualities of grilled alpaca, later consumed resting is cusco.... Tastes like kangaroo.

Health slightly improving, the troupe of twelve set of with our walking sticks, coca candy, coca leaves, ponchos, irrepresible guide washington, and 18 porters. Day one revealed many incan trails, fortresses, highland forests, rivers, creeks, indigenous communiuties, farms, and six hours of moderate hiking. Arriving at camp, we are greeted by our tents setup, a hole in the ground, and a fantastic dinner of fresh trout.

Day Two can only be described as a slog. 8 hours straight hiking, 16 kilometres starting at 3200 metres to 4200 at dead women´s pass, then back to 3600 was a day of scenary. Forest, tundra, glaciers, and dwarf forest. After settling in for the night, roughly five degrees below, it rained from 8pm to 8 am.



Day three we passing two mountains and incan ruins whilst our porters literally ran the trail in sandals carrying twenty kilo´s on their backs. Very difficult terrain to walk with a stick, I´m positive channel seven will start a new series called ¨When porters fall down¨. The camp site reveals our first shower and beer in three days.

Day four, wakeup call at 4am, hiking from 5:30 we rise to the sun gate, ominously lacking sun, to await the sunrise to shine on Machu Pichu, illuminating the temple of the sun.

And then we saw Machu Pichu....

Clog food, smog, and free beer

Meeting many a sole (pun intended) bagging Lima, we arrived just before midnight with little to no expectations. Arriving in Miraflores, the Beverly Hills of Lima, we are greated by all the trimmings of a modern city. The streets are safe, convenience of the neon signs, four and five star apartment blocks, and even a golf course. Only the divide between rich and poor matches our surprise of finding a suburb with a standard of living equal or greater than that of upper middle class Adelaide.

The opulence of the colonial buildings and plazas of the heart of Peru is contrasted by the unsafe squalor of it's surroundings. Unemployment is high and many denizens barely eek out a living selling wares for twenty or thirty cents. The inhabitants of can not even boast a nice climate, with range of 15 to 25 it never rains, although the ever present smog provides the illusion of impending rain.

Gastronomically fantastic, the local cuisine is as cheap as it tasty. Paella, the clog pleasing Cerviche, hearty meals of beef, chicken, or lamb, and an abundance of seafood.

Bunked up at $15 per night we have free beer, spirits, internet, and the redundant access to musical instruments.

LAN Airways by the way, is fantastic.... leather seats, some legroom, hostesses who smile.

As far as the Australia Electoral Commission are concerned, traveling and voting do not go hand in hand. The process could not be more painful.

Rubio, Poverty and random thoughts on Ecuador

"Rubio, Rubio, Rubio" be the call that resonates through the streets of Quito, the highlands, and the jungle. Standing roughly five or six inches taller than the average equadorian barely recieves a glance compared to that of the Blonde haired Beth. Although the machismo of Ecuador is rated as tame, even walking with me she garner´s many a look, greeting, the ubiquitous rubio, rubio, and stops many a conversation in it´s tracks. That said, she is safe walking the streets.

Quito and Ecuador as a whole presents so very little in opportunities for many in quality of life, education, and health care. Many children, as young sell wares of ice creams, chewing gum, or water on the streets and buses throughout the day. All stores and restaurants are over staffed. The only explanation for their continued prosperity is the minimal wages for staff.

Random thoughts:
= One way streets greatly assist the flow of traffic throughout the city
= Ecuadorian horns are versitile. Displaying disgust at the bad traffic or a driver, a call by taxi´s for passengers, saying hello to friends, indicating a change of lanes their noise is ever present;
= There are relatively few damanged cars on the road considering the chaotic scenes of peak hour traffic;
= The local fare is hearty but often plain;
= Only eat chinese food in China or Australia;
= Many great civilisations of Ecuador and their people have and are suffering;
= The locals wares are often made from centuries old techniques and of very high quality;
= Only eat from dirt cheap local restaurants or expensive, by Ecuadorian standards, western restaurants;
= The UNESCO world heritage listed old town is reminiscent of Europe and has the soul to match;
= No computers exist that allow you to use the bloger spell checker;
= Although you feel safe, you have to wonder about the hundreds of security guards stationed at resturants, banks, pharmacies, and bars hold loaded shotguns; and
= Come to Ecuador, either loop the country or use Quito as your base.

Insatiable greed, shrunken heads, and the hobbitt at middle earth

A walk through colonial old town delivers numerous pictures of 500 year old colonial buildings, churches, cobbled street, museums, and soul of this metropolis. Independence square reveals the ubiqitous street vendors, political rallies and protests, museums, and many a citizen enjoying the sun. A feature in the museum of art celebrated the life of Andy Warhol with thousands of photos, sculptures, videos, and music. The man, who only ever wore green underpants, was truly amazing.

Although many beautifull churches were built over the conquered Inca templtes, one of note is is brimming with over two tonnes of gold. The doors, walls, ornaments and scultpures are all covered. The opulence is inconceivable. Given the suffering in the streets and countryside and the incalcable suffering of the incas at the hands of the spanish colonials and the church, you can not help but feel disgusted at its decadence. Thousands upon thousands died either in the conquest or the hellish mines to fill churches, palaces, and coffers of the coloniasts and kings of Spain.

On a lighter note, we travelled 16kms north of Quito with a troupe of backpackers to see the City of the Middle Earth aka the equator. Although shared with numerous contries, the backgrop of the Andes is unique, where all other countires provide rain forrests. A pre incan civilisation, 1000 years ago, determined not only were they at the centre of the earth, but also the precise tilt of the earths axis, 23.5 degrees and the precise position of the equator. Quito literally translates to Middle Earth. Considering a 19th century French surveyor calculated the equator as 300 metres to the South, which houses a giant, plastic, and celbrarted monument, only disproved by G.P.S, it is truly amazing. In addition, a series of monuments were built hundreds of kilometres apart marking the equinox, soltices, and equator with precision.

The real middle of the earth housed a rustic, dust covered museum that was truly both informative and entertaining. A display of indigenous housing demonstrated how each tribe adapted to their unqiue landscape, jungle, mountains, beaches, desert, or lowlands. One in particular historically burried the wife with a dead husband. Several tribes, reportedly only historicaly shrunk the heads of the fallen enemies. After deboning, a recipe produces a head the size of the original owners fist. At the equator, several interesting feats are demonstrated. Water drains clockwise and anti clockwise on the southern and northern hemispheres respectively, but straight down on the equator; I balanced an egg on the head of a nail; and gravity is slightly and noticeably weaker, and yes, you do way less ladies.

The weather outside is miserably whilst Beth tries her luck at a local hairdresser.

Denzel Washington, a lodge with no (little) beer, paddle, paddle, and more paddling

After the 8 hours on the bus and five more waiting for our mestizo guide Wassington, the countries reponse to Denzel Washington. We travel by taxi for two to three hours over mostly dirt roads into country barely touched by agriculture and only recently by oil. We enter the Parque Nacional Cuyabeno by motorized canoe and travel for another two to three hours to reach our final destination, the jamu lodge. Located in dense jungle with the temprature topping thirty eight with high humidity, it naturally lacked the all basic mod cons .... hot water, electricity, and most disturbingly of all, low supplies of the local pilsner to combat the exhausting heat.

The activities, a mixture of well planned and shambolic, are easily delineated in the following catagories.

Fishing.... As the only naturalist on the two fishing trips, I secretly avoided catching any fish in contrast to other ravenous tourists who easily pulled in numerous paranas and other local fish, including a 30cm parana by Beth. The trip to and from these fertile zones was an arduos two or three hour paddle in wooden canoe, either in the heat of the midday sun or the mosquito and bat clad, darkness of night.

Nature hikes.... Hicking through mud, swamps, often seemingly impenatrable terrain, and once at night, produced a vast array of flora with som interesting fauna. Many trees and plants provide purpose to the indigenous community, from trees to sound out an S.O.S, plants for the bites of snakes and spiders, termites to protect against mosuiqtios, ants just for their bitter taste (personally licking three different types from their trees), and even a life long protection against malaria. The night hike, looking for massive spiders, although no tarrantulas, boa constrictors, caymens, and various insects was educational and quite daunting in the heart of the jungle armed with only a few flash lights and a steve irwin esque guide.

Indigenous community .... The villages, who fortunatly own title to their oil rich land, recieve periodic gifts of electricity, phones, running water in an attempt to butter them up for a future acquisition or deal with the oil companies. Although extremely remote, the locals, often with eight children, appear well nourished. The few modern commodoties afforded to them by the oil companies hasten their move from the local traditions. The lack full year tourismo positions provides a dispora to the oil companies and cities in search for employment and the advantages of convenneince. After making some rather tasty papaya bread we visit the local shaman. A interesting man who informed us on his heritage, struggles with finding a sucessor, abundance of medical plants in the forest, and his hallucinigencic drinks which he consumes three times a week to help with diagnosis. It must be said of such a learned individual, his pet dog suffered disturbingly from malnutrition.

After the arrival of cold beer and a handful of aussies, we enjoyed an afternoon in the hammocks, a swim, and an unsuccesful search for an anaconda.

With several more days in Ecuador, we will explore the old town and perhaps hike the volcano, Cotopaxi.

Captain Danger, Richard Nixon, Baños, and the chariot of the people.

Building on our first Ecuadorian bus trip, we headed down to Baños on a four hour trek via a mix of roads rated as western, laden with pot holes, paved, dirt, and finally ravaged by lava flows. Being a long weekend in Ecuador, we had the privilege of picking a couple of youngsters after a few cervaza´s. Plying themselves in the isle half a metre away, the struggling girlfriend started burping, or at least that is what we thought until vomit started sliding down her boyfriends new leather jacket. As it only can on a crowded bus in the tropics, the product of a afternoon at the football covered and festered on the floor of the bus with the girl swaying over the passengers in front over every corner and pothole. What can you say..... public transport, the chariot of the people.

Baños, meaning baths in Spanish, lies in the valley under the shadow of a 5000 metre volcano. Active as recent as late last year, several roads are under construction and one need not try hard to find the smooth black volcanic stones. Hosting several natural baths, which supposedly for health benefits, you spend 8 minutes in the hot and 2 minutes in the freezing cold have been frequented in the late of night after a days captain dangering or a nice meal.

After reaching our peak of about 4000 metres above sea level on a hike, we meet a friendly old farmer named Antoñio. The charming old man spent every second day tending his cows and chooks on the mountain between driving local buses. His tiny one bedroom shack, the home of this random act of kindness provided fresh tea, dried banana´s, bread, and a good dose of conversation. Advice from a friend suggested this was a real treat to the locals and we should not offer payment of goods in return. After a few photo´s and a sad goodbye, the call came for a few dollars for his kids. Taken a back that we were simply a cash cow, we handed over a few dollars and hiked down through tough terrain during the night both bitter and disappointed. That said, it is easy for a pair of westerners to judge a poor Ecuadorian farmer.


Captain Danger, often seen cutting up some dirt in his adopted home of Melrose had some competition in Ecuador this past day. With bugger all photographic evidence to show for it, a few minor scars, bruises, and that rush that you have from almost killing yourself we enjoyed one of the most exhilarating days of our lives.
First stop, white water rafting through class IV and V rapids. No words can describe the adrenalin rush of frantically paddling, jumping in and out of the boat on the faintest call of IN, getting drenched by ferocious waves, and hitting 10 tonne rocks in middle of the Rio negro. Falling in twice and Beth once mid rapids and feeling a blood rush without even a remote sense of danger, this is something everyone should do!!!

Not entirely sure what it was, but enticed by the discount of two activities in one day we headed canyoning; Abseiling down waterfalls. The first two, 12 and 6 metres were easily descended with one guide holding the safety rope at the bottom and our combined day of prior experience abseling in the Adelaide hills. However, as I was motioned towards the final descent, I started to realise that the man holding the safety rope was firmly staying at the top of this 45 metre waterfall. With panic setting in and Beth hearing numerous cries of holy four letter words I started this apparently crazy descent. I have not qualms in saying I have never been so scared in my life..... It was fantastic!!!! After reaching the edge, we free abseiled, spiralling under the powerful waterfall. Absolutely fantastic.

Tonight, we hunt for the local delicacy coy, which is a rather tasty guinea pig..... roasted without trimming a toe, ear, or eye..... yummy