Bum Bum fireworks

Butterfly hunter

Give way to snakes

Iguazu Falls

After a 23 hour bus journey across the breadth of Argentina (not as hard as you'd think: luxurious wide leather seats, movies, free wine and food) Iguazu had been built up to be a highlight of our last few days away: 270 huge waterfalls cascading across the border between Argentina and Brazil. Wider than Niagra and more spectacular than Victoria, these falls had been billed as a 'must see'.  
Unfortunately the weather had other ideas. Who knew we'd have sub-tropical thunderstorms in sub-tropical rain-forest? I guess the clue's in the title. 
Being stoic Brits, and with the forecast for storms all week, we decided that we'd go to the falls anyway and hope that the rain stopped by the afternoon as it had the day before. 
It didn't.
Despite the drama and power of the falls, and a thrillingly wet speedboat ride underneath them, it was my lowpoint of the trip - just from disappointment at schlepping about in a continuous grey downpour and not being able to appreciate the day properly.

But, luckily for us, the weather made an unexpected change the following day - so we went back and did it all again, this time complete with sunshine, wildlife - and happy, contented smiles.

Latest questions:

Why is England called England?
Why do they make cars with engines that can go faster than the speed limit?
Why does blood pump around the body?
Why do ladies wear hats in church, but men have to take them off.
Why do mice like cheese so much?
Do flies have hearing? 

Turn over your papers.... now.

Feeding the llama's

"I'm chillin' in Chile...

...big up for me family" - or so the song goes.

After crossing the border and a day or two by the beach in northern Chile, we hightailed it inland to San Pedro de Atacama, a tiny oasis town in the middle of the world's driest desert. We planned to stay here a day or two, only to find that the next bus out wasn't for four days - but we've got a pool and there's great food, so what's the rush? The town is made up of single-story red mud adobe buildings, nestled in a dry, flat valley ringed by Andean volcanoes. You can walk to the desert in 10 mins and being such an arid area it has the most amazingly clear starlit nights.

Against our natural rythms, we got up before dawn today to take a tour out to watch wild flamingoes at sunrise. The picture above doesn't do justice to how close we got to these amazing birds (did you know that the female pelican lays two eggs: one containing the pelican chick and a second 'dummy' egg to feed it with?). Even though he was shivering with cold, Kim pronounced the sight as 'magnificent'.  
Although it's not a cheap place, I can't help feeling that the beauty and tranquility of San Pedro, combined with it's dramatic setting, will make it one of our favourite stops in South America yet.

(Though I seem to be saying that about everywhere lately).

Arequipa

The pretty city of Arequipa, the 2nd largest in Peru, sits in the shadow of still active volcano El Misti and is known as the White City because of all the pale volcanic sillar rock that's used in the beautiful colonial churches, convents and mansions that surround the central plaza. There are supposed to be up to 15 tremors a day, but we've not been aware of feeling any yet. We've not really done much, bar exploring a few of the cultural landmarks - including the massive convent of Santa Catalina, which was a mysterious 500 year old Dominican citadel within the city until it was forced open to the public in the 1970's. The most curious sight there, apart from the maze of streets, stairways, rooms and courtyards themselves, was an exhibit on penance - including barbed-wire underwear. Ouch.

We've done an about-turn now, and are heading south again on the last leg of our trip. The plan is to cross the top of Chile and Argentina, and end up on a beach in Uruguay for a few days R&R before flying back to reality from Buenos Aires. Not that we want to return to reality...

Question of the day...

Why do non-confomists all look the same?

Poor man's Galapagos

Paracas is a small coastal fishing village surrounded by arid desert, about 4 hours south of Lima - though judging by the amount of hotel plots and plush waterfront holiday homes being built it won't be small or quiet for long. We came here just to visit the Islas Ballestas, known as the 'poor man's Gallapagos' because of the abundance of wildlife that live there, but having treated ourselves to a comparatively posh hotel with pool, decided to stay a few days and enjoy it. 
The islands are only small, but packed with colonies of cormorants, pelicans, vultures, humboldt penguins and sea-lions (it's the wrong time of year to see dolphins and flamingos too, but that's just being greedy). One area was packed so full of sea-lions and their pups that it looked as if the beach itself was moving, accompanied by a sound like the roar of a football stadium.    
Back in town Kim and Ned got to feed wild pelicans as they scavenged among the tourists on the beach (the pelicans, not Kim and Ned), and Annie and I finally had 'proper' wedding rings made - and for those of you who scoffed at our £1.50 stone rings from CenterParcs, I'll have you know these are a whopping £10 worth of solid silver. Each.
 - Extravagant I know, but she's worth every penny!

Sunshine hit me

Hoorah for sunshine! We've dropped nearly 4km in altitude from the chill of the Altiplano to the coastal desert of Peru, where mountainous sand dunes run down to the sea and the sun cooks us at a steady 28 degrees.
We stopped briefly in Nazca to check out the huge pre-Inca drawings in the desert. No-one's quite sure what they were for, but theories range from ceremonial art to irrigation channels to runways for alien spacecraft. Being drawn in the flat desert plain, they can only really be viewed properly from above, which makes you wonder how these giant figures (a tree, a bird, a lizard, a human etc) were drawn in the first place. Being the cheapskates that we are, we opted not to take a flight over the desert, instead catching a bus to the middle of no-where to climb a lonely lookout tower for a glimpse of the lines. Standing in the midday sun, with flat desert as far as the eye could see in all directions, waiting for a bus to come past (and hoping it would actually stop) was almost as bizarre an experience as the lines themselves.

Bookworm

Finding books to satisfy Kim's voracious reading habit has been difficult, especially when he's been known to read four or five books in a week. Main cities occasionally have English language sections in their bookshops, but otherwise we've had to rely on lucky finds in traveller book exchanges. In the absence of his preferred Alex Rider books, he's punched above his weight by reading Around The World In 80 Days, The Hitch-Hikers Guide To The Galaxy and The Hobbit - which has become one of his new favourites.
I hope that counts in his favour when he returns to school.

Saucy!

Round 11

Cusco is a bit like a South American Oxford - full of cobbled streets, classical architecture (often built upon the stones of old Inca sites), a relaxed atmosphere, and lots of nice bars and restaurants (including Paddy's - the highest Irish pub in the world). We could easily see ourselves living here for a while. If only the rain wasn't so similar to Oxford too.

Yikes

Just seen the papers, and 8 people died yesterday in the river at Pisaq.
We had a close escape indeed.

Pisaq

Pisaq is an Inca citadel high above the Sacred Valley. Bigger and more intact than Macchu Picchu, it only lacks the mystique of being a 'lost city'. Walking around it, it's streets, steps and buildings, we could really see and feel how the Inca's lived. There were houses, terraces for agriculture, look-out towers, a hospital, a cliff-face cemetary (where bodies were placed into holes in the rock), and ultimately their grand astrological site and temples to the sun and moon. 
As the afternoon clouds descended around us, bringing a mist of grey rain, it created a uniquely ethereal (though slightly damp) atmosphere.

Unfortunately, what felt like a mildy annoying shower to us at the top of the mountain, had gathered momentum and turned to a torrent by the time it had reached the town below. The river had burst it's banks and flooded the main street and the footpath down had been washed away in sections. In short, we were stuck.
Luckily for us, a group of local guides on their way home soon joined us, and together we all made our way slowly down the only route available - scrambling over rocks and bushes down the near sheer mountainside. As we came lower we could see the men of the town all fighting the raging river with sticks, moving rocks and trying to prevent the river silting up and flooding over into the town. They directed us across the face of the mountain, away from areas prone to landslides, and eventually we made it down to the only safe river crossing - a narrow concrete drain into town, where a Peruvian TV crew stood, filming our 'rescue', just for good measure. 

As if that wasn't enough adventure for one day, our bus back to Cusco got stuck behind a huge landslide, and we had to wait for a bulldozer to come and clear a path through.
Eventually we made it back, muddy and chilly, but safe and all a bit excited by the adventures. 
My Mum had signed off her last email (with reference to the recent earthquake and tsunami) "Take care of everyone, and stay away from danger!"
I didn´t do it on purpose Mum, honest!