Week two and a day

So since the last email really not much has happened, so to compensate I seem to have written twice as much.The flight over the Nasca lines actually happened, which was nice.There was just myself and Sam on the plane (and the pilot) and the routine seemed to be overflying each animal (sometimes as accurately described as star constellations tend to be) on one side, then spinning the plane around as sharply as possible for the other person to get an eyeful. The pilot muttered his full English vocabulary of´look down, look down, look down, look down´ over each animal to each of us and only finished his banking when he heard a camera shutter. Instead of appreciating the overall spectacle it was more a mix of looking through a camera lense and glancing at the sick bag. At least later we found the new sport of ´spot the intended purpose of the photo´.

Then followed the luxury overnight coach to Arequipa. It was quite luxurious - though it had the suspension of a large american sedan where the driver appeared to believe he was behind the wheel of a sporty two seater. Anything not buckled in via five point harness at some stage during the night came loose and fell down or raced away down the aisle. Arequipa was nice, second only to Cusco (blah blah) in terms ofcolonial architecture it has a big square, large fountain, big archytype colonnades etc and some large volcanoes as a backdrop. Our room (with balcony and bathroom) was a fiver - and proved a good spot to get ill.

Clearly I have the constitution of a school girl.In an absent minded moment I must have ordered a large round balloon suppository and suddenly I became el bloaty trapped wind person. Sam popped out to the farmacia and after some anonymous drugs and some R&R I started a much needed breeze (two days later).

My worst nightmare would have been to be Senior Bloaty and find myself sitting on the back seats of a local bus as it speeded along unmade unmade roads for four hours to the little town of Chivay. Lunar landscapes, llamas, dust, ice and amusingly large rocks and pot holes on the`road`. Happily the day before this happened I´d been able to vex the dogs of Arequipa by overriding their subtle territorial scents on each and every street corner by my own very noxious fumes.

I read on the internet later that trapped wind can be a byproduct of stress, irregular food patterns, waist band too tight etc. ReluctantlyI´ve eased my money belt slightly from it´s vice like hold.

Chivay is at 3,800 metres, so as we hurried after Mr Hostel tout person at midday with rucksacks there was a little wheezing. The hostel was nice (at 80 pence each for the night), their three course meal (one pound eighty each) was the nicest yet - stuffed avocado starter with tasty llama steak for main (sorry mum). It´s a tiny and quiet town, but it´s at the start of the worlds deepest (blah blah) canyon - I think they said twice the depth of the Grand Canyon (some may say half as impressive). We arrived at the highest point at 7am the next day (early morning bus) and turned to ice immediately. Below there were plenty of the promised condors rising allegedly on early morning thermals. (Had I still been coming off my el Bloaty I could have given them some serious altitude)!!

We sat for about two hours taking identical pictures of condors. Why is it that it´s important to get your own photo - though you know full well you could just download a much better one from the internet. After a while it was quite nice to just sit and watch (only taking the occasional photo every thirty seconds). Back from Chivay and back in Arequipa and another night bus to Cusco. But first a delicious chocolate ice-cream in the main plaza. Hmmm delicious. As we both put one foot on the coach there was a slight raised eyebrow, as both feet were on the coach we knew something was wrong.

Five hours later, me having gained the extreme wrath of el conductor for misuse of the coach facilities and Sam in excruciating pain,uncontrollable shivers and a replete with a small amount of my also misusing the general facilities in the immediate vicinity of my seat we alighted the bus early, at 1am, in the worlds most unpleasant town- Juliaca.

A transport hub town only and with a transient population of druggies and nasties we were very happy to find the salubrious(three pounds a night) San Antonio Hotel. While Sam was keen to warm up under six blankets I set to work on the facilities - ensuring no space in the banù felt under used.The next day was a cheap day, just two pounds spent on ten litres ofwater and the cost of the sicknote room. Ten litres of water represented our thirst in the morning - not what was realistic to drink.

Fortunately with the violence of the event it was over quickly too, so the next day we set off on the five remaining blissfully uneventful hours to Cusco. We´ve been here a day and a half now, and haven´t touched any ice-cream. (The suspicion of ice-cream was it was the only thing we both ate, a little defrost and refreeze action we think).

Cusco seems ... nice. We stayed in a shockingly expensive room on the first night (twenty pounds)!!!! but as Sam didn´t sleep well I reluctantly suggested something more to that that we have become accustomed. Our place this evening has character. Tomorrow we`ve venturing down the Sacred Valley. Every footstep we take closer to Machu Picchu the Peruvian tourist board are on hand to charge us a randomly selected amount of US dollars. They`re cashing in in unabashed style on the biggest tourist attracting in SA. By taking local buses as far as we can, then joining a large queue ofcheapskates, we can get a return train for $40 each, the Machu Picchu pass costs $20 each and all the inevitable extra paraphernalia ....but I`m sure it`ll be worth it. Anyhow ... cheers for now