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It all depends on how you ask the question. When asked if you want to travel 24 hours in a pleb-class set to spend a week on an active volcano near a former leper colony and watch some geriatrics prance on stage you would probably have second thoughts. However, if the question was posed as: “how about an all-in week in luxury hotel in Hawaii with a Neil Diamond concert”, most people would jump at the chance. I jumped.

OK, the journey was long, but the prospect of Maui was just too tempting to pass, so I stole myself for the long trip and headed off to the airport, where I met up with my baby brother (well, he is whole 15 minutes younger than I am) who was also along for the ride.

Arriving at Kahului, I really wanted a flower lei, (the necklaces, seen in films, that everybody seems to get the moment they step foot on the islands) –  but I was told these are for women – men get a lei of shells or nuts (sure there is some symbolism there). I put my foot down though and to accompanying titters and smiles, got what I wanted. It was lovely – although it did clash with my outfit.

Maui is an incredibly diverse island. It is basically land formed around 2 volcanoes, the smaller older Kahalawai and the still active (last erupted in 1790) Haleakala, which rises to more than 3,000 meters  above sea level. Haleakala actually is one of the world’s highest mountains, it is over  5 miles (8.0 km) from base to summit, but its base actually rests on the sea floor.

Our first activity was to explore Haleakala, which necessitated getting up at 2:00 am to drive to the top and watch the “spectacular” sunrise. The sun rise was a little disappointing; the promised “amazing colours” were blocked by clouds, which bought in an icy wind literally freezing the water droplets on your coat. I was wearing 5 layers and was still shivering like crazy. So we jumped on our bikes and, avoiding the ice, cycled down to sea level (well more like coast down actually). lt warmed up on the enjoyable bike ride, which finished at a memorial to the leper colony – a lovely ending.

These volcanoes have a big effect on the local climate, which means there is a huge diversity in topography on the island – lush, rich rain forests on the north side, temperate to the east and dry to the south. Our resort was in the “just perfect” weather area,  warm seas and blue skies but we wanted to see the rest of the island, so our next trip was a circumnavigation of the volcano.

This is not so easy as, technically, there is no proper road to do this. The hippy colonies on the east coast want to prevent a real road being built as it will open up the area to tourists and resorts. Unperturbed, and with another early start (6:00 am), we set off to explore this area.  It was fascinating to see how the flora and fauna changes in just a few short miles. Soon we were in deep rain forest and I know now why they call it RAIN forest. Our goal was to hike to a waterfall for a quick dip, but the swollen rivers hindered our arrival and we had to turn back, but certainly not disappointed as we admired the towering bamboo and banyan trees, and certainly not dry.

Another highlight Maui has to offer are the aquatic animals. From our hotel balcony we could see whales frolicking off-shore, so this naturally had to be explored.  We were told to wait at our hotels reception for the bus. After about 20 minutes, the bus arrived and drove us to the back of our hotel, (which was closer to our room than reception), where our ship was backing on to the hotel’s beach to pick us up.

We started off snorkelling off at Molokini, a crescent-shaped, partially submerged volcanic crater which forms a small inland just off the coast. The clarity of the water and the diversity of the fish was simply astounding – I was gob smacked and was the last one back in the boat. From there we went turtle watching. This is simple as the entire area is used as a turtle swim through shell-wash. The turtles turn up, take a breath and plonk themselves on the sea-bed, where an army of fishes go to work scraping accumulated debris off the shell. Again, I was the last one in the boat as turtle I was shadowing decided to take a breath just as I was leaving. Thanks to an excellent underwater camera I managed to get this footage:

The rest of the time was spent relaxing, eating, hanging out on the beach and snorkelling. The 70 year old Neil Diamond was actually very good in concert, although he did leave out my favourite “Song, song, blue” (perhaps he is going senile).

At the end of the week it was time for LONG trip back to Germany. I spent a day in Honolulu, which did not exactly enthral – a big city with just too many traffic lights and one-way streets to be pleasant. There were a couple of highlights – hiking up Diamond Head, a left over volcanic crater, which afforded spectacular view of Waikiki beach; Waikiki beach itself; Pearl Harbour and the excellent exhibition there which allows you to relived the December 7^th 1941 attack – but I was glad to be on my way and in just a short 27 hours later arrived back at home, and start dreaming of the next trip..

Some people may question the idea of spending a week’s holiday delivering post from a boat, but if that boat is travelling 2,600 km along the Norwegian coast from deep within the Arctic Circle to Bergen and visits some of the most spectacular scenery around, you may reconsider.

Two things hit you when you arrive in Norway, one is the total lack of architectural flair, and the other is the exorbitant price of everything. Arriving at the airport, we stopped for  a celebratory coffee (€6), before taking the massively clumpy, depressingly somber express in to the center of Oslo (€22, each way).  With only 600,000 inhabitants (in a country of 5 million), Oslo does not really have a great deal to offer. We stopped off at the tiny cathedral (still wreathed in flowers following on from the recent shootings), the national gallery (with its depressing Edvard Munch collection), the harbor (an architectural mess, where 23 architects seem to be battling out who can “do” better urban planning) and finally the very boxy, yet interesting town hall, where the Nobel Peace prize is doled out each year.

Our next stop necessitated taking a tram, which according to the digital display, could travel through time – apparently it would pick us up, after it had reached at our final destination. Impressive stuff.  We took this miraculous contraption to the brilliant Vigeland Sculpture Park in almost no time at all. Here 212 bronze and granite Gustav Vigeland sculptures are, for want of a better word, on display. His work portrays naked men, women and children in various “typically human pursuits” as the catalogue puts it – I leave it up to your imagination.

From Oslo, we were off to Kirkenes, the start of the boat trip, home to 3,300 very cold people and about 12 million lemmings. It necessitated getting up very early and taking the Auschwitz Express back to Oslo Airport. On the surprisingly full plane, breakfast was severed. Now, I am used to mystery meat on planes, but this was the first time I had experienced mystery jam. The package depicted just about every type of fruit you can imagine and tasted, well, fruity.

This culinary delight distracted us from the bigger issue of not actually arriving in Kirkenes. After 2 aborted landings the pilot had to divert to the metropolis of Lakselv (population 2,146) and we ended up on a 5 hour (340 km) bus ride back to the fogged-in Kirkenes airport. With hindsight was not such a bad thing as the tourist attractions in Kirkenes are few and far between and we could play “count the squashed lemmings” on the road – there were a lot.

The next morning it was off to the boat. Well, it would have been, had we not started chatting with some Spaniards and totally disregarded the large canary yellow bus that drove by, pickup about other 20 people and drove off.  Hurried calls to the bus station instigated its return, but it was a bonding moment with the Spaniards who we stuck with on the cruise – we were amongst the youngest on the boat.

From there the 2,600 km boat ride to deliver post to 30 ports along the Norwegian coast began. Over the next 6 days, we meandered through incredible fjords watching the sites go by and soaking up the Norwegian sun. The first few stops had the common theme of “the most northerly…” – the most northerly point of Norway, the most northerly fort, the most northerly mountain with a hole in it, the most northerly methanol plant etc etc. We were also lucky enough to spot the most northerly cat at one point, but it eluded our cameras. Forget the most northerly lemming, there must be a 1,000 vying for this honor.

At some ports (where it could not be avoided), we took organized excursions with tour guides who explained every fauna, flora and squashed lemming en route. One question was why houses are typically painted a myriad of different colours, apparently, this was a post war phenomenon. As the Nazis retreated, they burnt everything to the ground and during the rebuilding phase the government subsidized only standard houses shapes. People wanted to personalize their “standard” houses and so started painting them different colours – and presto, picturesque villages.

I have never been on a cruise before and don’t ask me where the time went. There always seemed to be a huge backlog of things to do – a quick troll round a local port, drinkies with our Spanish friends, meals, a quick nap on the deck, a chance to get a bit further in that book, a rush to get the best photo of the methanol plant as it glided by.. it was all go.

After six days the cruise irrevocably had to come to an end – we arrived in Bergen and disembarked to the first real rain we had seen. The final day was spent exploring this wet, but vibrant city – unfortunately some main attractions were shut. I really wanted to experience the Leprosy Museum (surprisingly, the most northerly Leprosy museum in the world), where I imagined interactive displays and multimedia exhibits, but it was sadly not to be – it had started its winter hiatus. So we checked out the excellent aquarium and the funicular, where we had some break-taking views of fog and drizzle, before heading back to Frankfurt.

Another excellent trip that I can only heartily recommend – the only disappointment was again not seeing the northern lights. This may become an obsession with me, so watch out for postcards to come..

It has been a couple of years since I was last in Orlando, and so was pleased when it was chosen as the location of an SAP conference, as it gave me the opportunity to present, celebrate my birthday in style and most importantly, visit the newly opened Wizzarding World of Harry Potter at the Islands of Adventure Theme Park.

The first couple of days were a presentation blur, but the big day came and Sting came by and put on a concert for me in the evening, which was nice. I was 10 rows from the front and was seriously gyrating to some of the classics, but went out and got drinks during the boring new-age, tree hugging melodies. He was rushed off stage after the concert, so we did not get a chance to catch up, perhaps next year.

The next day, I only had afternoon meetings, so I got up early and arrived at the park half an hour before the gates opened and immersed myself in the huge crowd at the turnstiles. By the time the gates opened a flood of humanity surged in to the park, with everyone seemingly making their way to the Wizzarding World.

I tried to get to the front, dashing through Headache Land (based on Dr. Seuss’ books, the colours and brightness is nauseating), past The Lost Continent (which to be honest, no one would miss if were to go astray) and ended up at the gates of my target. The first thing you see is an enormous arch announcing you are entering the village of Hogsmeade and a large, red Hogwarts express train gently puffing away at the station. Rounding the corner you are literally immersed in J.K. Rowlings world, as you enter the sumptuously recreated village, with a monolithic back drop of Hogwarts – I was stunned.

The shops of Hogsmeade are true to the books and are crafted to the tiniest detail – both inside and out. The shops themselves are covered in fake snow and are seemingly fighting for space, with asymmetrical frontages, and crooked, seemingly unstable chimneys poking up all over the place. The window decoration are gorgeous, in ”Quality Quiddich Supplies”, bludgers and a snitch fight their containment in a beautiful box. In Zonkos, a display of how puking pastels work dominates the bright awnings. Inside the items are familiar – extendible ears and speakoscopes vie for shelving space with cauldrons, wands and Berty Botts Every Flavour Beans. Olivanders has a fine selection of character wands (made in China, at the extortionate price of $29.99 + tax), the ATM is Gringotts branded, moaning Myrtle laments her demise in the mens’ bathroom, the monster book of monsters snaps at you from its cage as you walk past – the list just goes on and on.

From there I moved on to main attraction, the “Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey” ride. Just getting to the ride was a pleasure, meandering through Hogwarts corridors, meeting Harry, Ron and Hermione, watching the pictures talk to each other and the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, whilst enjoying the banter of the pictures. Eventually, you get to the ride, where, starting on a 4-seater couch in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione casts a flying spell you are whisked round Hogwarts, chasing dragons, unexpectedly taking part in a Quiddich match, then avoiding the Whomping Willow you finally fight with dementors to save the day. Spectacular. I rode it twice and ended my visit with a celebratory Butterbeer in the Hogs Head Bar, chatting with the animated head as I did so. As I left, as the masses continued to swarm in to Hogsmeade – it was a heaving, but the bar lady cheerfully informed me, “this is nothing, you should see it on a busy day” – I really dread to think.

The rest of the day was spent on roller coasters, including a new one worthy of note, the Hollywood Rip Ride Rockit. This attraction features an individual sound system to provide a personalized soundtrack for the 1.2km ride – I chose Gloria Gaynor’s “I will survive” (it was either that or “Staying Alive” by the Bee Gees), which seemed appropriate as we were hauled  vertically 51m up to the top of the ride (the tallest in Orlando). It is designed to allow four trains to be on the track at a time and feature “near-miss” encounters and a unique form of vertical loop, in which the track rotates 360° whilst in the loop. Pure adrenalin fun.

Despite all the hullabaloo of the new rides, my favourite still continues to be the Hollywood Tower of Terror in the Disney re-branded Hollywood Studios. We visited here the next day, but our timing was not ideal as about 1 billion Star Wars fans (I counted them) also arrived to celebrate the re-opening of the Star Wars Clone Ride. You could not move in the park for Obi-Wans, Darth Vaders and other things-I-know-not-what running around. We just did the Tower of Terror, a couple of non-Star Wars related rides and got out, passing Donald Duck dressed as a storm trooper – a little surreal.

Following on from a bit (well, a lot) of shopping, it was time to trek back to the airport, stopping off for some buffalo chicken wings en route. I sort of became addicted to these delicious little delicacies during my trip and am now suffering withdrawal from them.

All in all a great birthday week, can’t wait for the next one.

So we decided for a few days off, but where to do for a week? Too short to fly anywhere exotic, but beach was on the agenda, so we decided on the island of Ruegen, located on the north-east coast of Germany in the Baltic Sea. Getting to the island was a 900km drive, and to be honest, it is a bit “out of the way”. The “Around Me” app that tells you all the things worth seeing in your immediate vicinity beeped and helpfully informed me the closest Apple store was 689kms away.

However, the island was lovely and not as desolate as we first expected. The tree lined lanes, which almost formed a tunnel, were picturesque, but I imagine could be deathtraps if you swerve more than a few degrees off true. We left these behind and in our first town we did see some shops, the local steam train and signs for all manner of touristic crap. We drove through and arrived at our hotel in the delightful city of Goehren which was hosting a music festival. Hungry, we decided to try the fish the island is famous for. The scampi we chose fresh of the barbecue looked lovely, but it was half cooked and tasted of lighter fuel – we went for the traditional German sausage after that. The hotel was lovely with beach chairs, pool and a great restaurant – which we only discovered post sausage.

We hired bikes on the first day and cycled down to the southern most point of the island and stopped off to sun bathe on the way back. The beaches were lovely, warm sand, gently sloping to lapping waves (although the water was tepid to say the least). Now, being British, I am used to the rigmarole and procedures of being a on a beach. The farce of getting the deck chair up and the towel wrap to protect from prying eyes whilst trying extract the underwear and get the swimming stuff on. These beaches had a different class of people – the FKK brigade (aka free bodily culture aka nudists). As we sat our newly arrived neighbors simply stripped off and with everything hanging out plunged in to the water, returning wet, with everything still hanging out. I sort of lost my appetite for a while and thought back to my sausage.

The other thing that Ruegen is famous for are Nazis. As the beaches are spectacular and the Graf of Ruegen was seriously in debt to the Nazis – so a deal was closed – a vast swathe of land was purloined to be house the first part of the “Kraft durch Freude” (strength through joy) initiative. The idea was to control every aspect of party-faithful lives and this included their holidays – so a Butlins-type campus was planned and partially erected. The magnitude of the construction is breathtaking. The brief was for a not too tall (less than 5 stories high) resort that could house 20,000 people all with a guaranteed a sea-view and (secretly) could be converted to a military hospital at a moment’s notice. Every detailed of a trip was panned. Arriving you were assigned a number which was your room, assigned beach chair (no arguments and  getting up at 6:00 to put a towel down), lounger and restaurant seat.  The architect Clemens Klotz was up to the challenge and designed the main 4.5km long building, railway station, garage for 3000 cars, 2 sea-water fed swimming pools (100 x 40 meters), a tower restaurant, theater, festival hall to seat everyone and a huge pier to allow passenger ships to dock. Construction began in 1938 and finished prematurely in 1939 years with the outbreak of the war. The shell of the theater and 8 housing blocks were completed and 6 of them are still standing. There is also an impressive collection of memorabilia and information about the 4 other similar holiday camps that were planned. The camp was sadly plundered during the war and fell in to neglect during DDR times. Several of the blocks have recently been sold to investors, but their plans are still pretty nebulous. A definite highlight of the trip.

The next couple of days were spent relaxing and exploring the island – the white cliffs (not a patch on Dover), the dual lighthouses (the 2nd built as the 1st proved to be a bit too short) and long hikes in the forest coming upon follies like the hunting castle with its stupendous staircase and horns everywhere. We also finally managed to get some really good fish, thanks to the now working “Around Me” app – it pointed us to a tiny restaurant just down the road from our hotel with an excellent rating – fresh local fare that rounded off the trip nicely. There was only the drive back, but with such nice memories the trip flew by.

… continued from part 1

I was very nervous about spending a 7 day on a boat in the Galapagos. I mean, couple of tortoises, few shacks and iguana or two.. what more is there (apart from sea-level air you can breathe)? I packed travel backgammon, bought water proof playing cards, downloaded some books and movies to stave off the boredom and set off. The first impressions we got from the Galapagos totally lived up to my expectations. Arriving in Baltra, the ex-military base that serves the archipelago, we were herded along the runway to a open sided shack (aka terminal), which has a superfluous “re-” in the “please excuse the inconvenience whilst re-building” sign. Hot, tired after the flight from Quito, we queued to pay $100 (not really sure why), queued for cursory hand baggage check, and then queued to collect baggage.

We then drove on a dilapidated bus to the harbour. Things sort of looked up for a minute, with some huge sleek, elegant white, luxury yachts bobbing gently – but our guide pointed past these delights to a small blue converted fishing vessel (our boat the Samba) which paled into insignificance next to the magnificence of the other opulent liners. To be honest my heart sank a bit more, but boy, how wrong can you be – luck was really on our side for this one.

The Boat – The Samba
The negative first impressions of our boat were dismissed the moment we set (bare) food on it. It was charming. OK; it was a bit on the small side but it was cozy, with every nook and cranny crammed with essential supplies from table cloths and napkins to snorkeling gear and reference books. The main boudoir had a huge polished wooden table and two dispensers that provided a constant supply of tea and coffee. The decks had many comfy seating areas with easy access to the bridge and 2 smaller zodiac boats for ferrying us to and from shore were stowed neatly on the sides. It was lovely. And more was to come, the food served there was excellent, 3 meals a day and snacks were magiced from the small kitchen.

The People – Guests, Crew and Guide, my Guide
But what really made the cruise special, were the people – it would have been cramped on the boat with 14 guests, 6 crew and our guide, but a misfit Swiss couple were quickly jettisoned after the wife, who spent all her time either puking or lying down looking ghastly, found out she was pregnant and they left the cruise. The remaining 12 guests (5 Brits, 2 Swiss, 1 US, 1 Australian, 1 German and 2 locals) bonded dazzlingly with each other, our brilliant guide, Silvia (Swiss who became affectionately known as “guide, my guide”), and the crew. The days were literally fun-filled and informative. Silvia was a fountain of knowledge not only on everything animal, vegetable and minerals on the Islands, but also on weather conditions. “This next stretch will be calm sailing”, she confidently predicted, as the boat rolled and Jennifer spun off her chain in to the conveniently located drinks fridge. Luckily, the fridge was undamaged, Jennifer was OK too.

The Itinerary
The daily itinerary looked something like this:
07:00 – Breakfast bell and like Pavlovian dogs we swarmed in to the lounge
08:00 – First activity – normally hike or walk on an island
10:00 – Back on the boat for a glass of juice and a snack
10:30 – Second activity – normally snorkeling
11:30 – Back on the boat to shower
12:00 – Bell rings for lunch
13:00 – Rest period avoiding the mid-day heat
15:00 – Third activity – hike or boat trip
17:00 – Back on the boat for a glass of juice and a snack
Chat and laugh, watch the sun set
19:00 – Bell rings for Din-dins
20:00 – Briefing for next day
20:15 – Laugh, chat, drink, laugh, star gaze, laugh, dance until bed time
Occasionally there was a special event, such as cocktails on the bridge when crossing the equator at sunset, an improvised disco on the bow or an early morning start to see a turtle orgy – but Silvia kept us on track and on time.

The Islands – More and Bigger than Expected
The islands are clustered around the equator about 970 km west of Ecuador, cover an area of about 8,000 square kms and are home to about 23,000 – expanded by about 3,500 tourists per week. Of the 15 main islands, some are millions of years only, some are still being formed. As a result each island has a really unique look and feel, the older ones having been fully colonized by unique fauna and flora, the newer ones almost barren, with new growth fighting to survive. But regardless of age, sea lions bask and lounge on all beaches.
This topographical difference of the islands really hit home on Santa Cruz, the first of the 6 we visited – it looked like something out of a science fiction movie – a vista of red moss with candelabra cacti spread in front of us, dotted by wildlife. Compare that with the stark contrast of the much younger Isla Santa Maria – where the results of relatively recent lava eruptions have cooled and the resultant flow patterns can be clearly seen. Brittle, black pumice, heavy with iron either clanked underfoot or cracked as small plants try to establish themselves and the occasional iguana scampered over the rock. Other wildlife, such as the flamingos have made themselves at home however, their beautiful pinkness contrasting strongly against the black of the rock.

The Wildlife – Afraid of Nothing
As there no predators on the islands, the wildlife there have no fight or flight response. They simply sit there looking at you curiously as you approach and some have adapted unique traits. The cormorants for example have become flightless due to the abundance of food and totally unnecessary need to fly away from anything. Other animals that we encountered in real close up, whilst wondering down the paths included land iguanas (known as Christmas iguanas due to their red/green colouring), sea iguanas (both swimming and drying out on land), sea lions, turtles, tortoises, brilliant orange sally-lightfoot crabs, and a plethora of indigenous birds including penguins, blue-footed boobies, albatrosses, hawks, doves, gulls (including the unique nocturnal gulls), frigate birds, lava herons and beautiful flamingos.
The bird’s behavior has adapted to humans. We anchored one night, light spilling off the deck attracting fish to the brightness. A pelican arrived, landed and paddled around the boat in the shadows occasionally lashing out to get a fish. Each lap took 2.8 minutes and we gave up counting after a while.
We spent one day at the Charles Darwin Institute, which is trying to repopulate the native tortoises, before visiting them in the wild. Originally there were an estimated 200,000 tortoises and 15 sub-species but most of them were eaten – for a while, the Galapagos were treated like a “float-through” McDonalds, boats would arrive, collect a few tortoises “to go” for the rest of the journey – now there are an estimated 15,000 and 11 sub-species left, one of which has a single survivor – lonesome George. He has a lovely pen and 2 harlots to keep him company, but he seems to be immune to their seductive charms. I suggested tortoise porn, which has actually been tried, but it looks like George will be the last of his line – a story that is threatening much of the Galapagos as the commercial tourism and global warming encroaches on the wildlife.

The Snorkeling
Originally we wanted to do some diving, but the sites are few and snorkeling is just as, if not more so, rewarding. The Samba had a good supply of gear; we donned wet suits and took one of the zodiacs out to an approved site. The first sojourn gave a taste of things to come – as we entered the water, 2 sea lion pups came to investigate and swam with and around us with considerably more dexterity than we could muster.
Tropical fish with resplendent colours glistened in the shallow, clear waters. Shoals of yellow-tailed surgeon fish, always encompassing one black king angel fish, drifted past. These were interspersed with occasional sharks, penguins, manta rays and huge turtles. We followed these for ages watching the elegant, efficient propulsion in the blue water.
We also swam off the side of the boat.. but there were dangers, I got a nasty jelly-fish sting, which was alleviated by urinating on it – not much fun, but it was a good excuse for being late for diner – “I am so sorry I am late, but I was peeing on my wrist”.

The Summary
People say a Galapagos holiday is holiday of a lifetime, a thought to which I certainly subscribe. It will be interesting to see how the archipelago is managed over the next few years, environmentalists dream vs. money making tourist destination is a recipe for change. I only hope it is not a change for the worse.

Journey to Peru
So I finally make it, arriving at midnight (after a 23 hours of traveling) in Lima, Peru – my first footfall in South America and the luggage carousal had jammed and my bag was still in the USA. The first night at the really upmarket airport hotel was rather lonely and uncomfortable as my pajamas and toothbrush were partying in Houston. However, it was only about 5 hours of discomfort, as we had a 6:00 am flight to the ex-Inca capital of Cusco, so I put back on my rank clothes, hoping my fellow passengers had colds and walked back to the airport. This was a rather atypical flight – normally, you take off, climb, fly a bit and then descend to land. This was more of a climb, fly, land – the whole descending bit was missing as Cusco is at 3,300 meters up in the rather thin air.
This was our first taste of rarefied air that was to be with us for the next weeks. In this low oxygen environment your body instantly tries to adapt – the first noticeable sign is you panting. Every physical and mental action is unfocused, blurry, you are out of breath walking up or down a few steps, and you are constantly peeing as your body frenziedly tries to discharge liquids to thicken the blood. You cannot sleep; you nose cannot physically accommodate the amount of air your need, so your mouth is constantly dry as you to pant massive amounts of air to compensate. You have a craving for liquids and high iron foods as your body ramps up new red-blood cell production – even liver smelt appetizing – first time that has ever happened to me.

The Sacred Valley – Inca heartland
Leaving the airport, we staggered up the 4 steps in to the bus, flopped in the seat for a tour of the Sacred Valley, so called by the Incas due to its unique weather (it has one of the many micro-climates in Peru), geological and agricultural qualities – it also has seams of precious metals running through it. We sampled some delicious corn that is still grown there as we trekked (and puffed) through our first point of call, a market in Chinchero. It was full of llama-themed objects, but sadly no llama underwear – at this stage, over 40 hours since departure, I would have gladly slipped on a pair if they had had any. The highlight of the tour was at end of the valley, in Ollantaytambo, which served as the last pocket of Inca resistance against the Spanish – the highlight for me was not the Inca ruins, but the availability of undies in my size (which shrunk after the first wash). The ruins were spectacular, with tiers of crop growing terraces, amazing masonry and a predisposition for placing things inconveniently up very steep valley walls (why put the grain store next to where you live, surely it would be better on the other side of a valley!?). We spent the night at a hotel which was described itself as “Hotel Sauce, ruins view”, which we were glad to discover looked over the ruins as opposed to being an eyesore spoiling it.

On to Machu Picchu
From Ollantaytambo we were off to our first real highlight – Machu Picchu. There are several options for getting there, hiking, a yucky local flea-ridden train or the luxury Vistadrome Pullman, with great views and a snack. We opted for the easy option and arrived in comfort at the town of Aguas Calientes (now cut off by mud slides) and transferred to a bus up 15 hair-pin bends to the entrance of this amazing Inca town. It was built around 1430 but was abandoned around the time of the Spanish conquest 100 years later. It was rediscovered by in 1911 by Hiram Bingham, an American historian and is absolutely stunning.
We were all breath taken by the site (both literally and figuratively) we just gazed in awe at the ruins, perched on a peak, surrounded by the terraces descending down to the massive bend of the Urubamba River. Taking stacks of pictures an immediate reflex, but nothing on film can capture the majesty of the site. Despite this being the low, rainy season, the sun shone down on us as we were guided through the complex, with its palaces, observatories, farms, houses and fortifications.
We returned to Aguas Calientes that night, hungry and happy. We chose to eat something special and went for guinea pig – we picked Fluffy out of the pen and enjoyed this delicacy of the region (although not much meat and tastes like smoked chicken). We slept well for the first time and the next morning meandered back up to the site, hiked some of the trail and then simply sat, ogling the view for a few hours. The clouds and light constantly played on the ruins, and we watched in peace as rampant llamas (the local lawn mowers) ploughed past knocking other tourists over the edge of the terraces.

Back to Cusco and Catholic Propaganda
We dragged ourselves away, to return to Cusco. Here we saw how the Catholic Church used the “embrace and extend” strategy to ingratiate themselves with the Incas after obliterating their culture (resentment about this is still deep-seated). The Spanish basically moved in, demolishing any Inca temple and building a church on top. However, to make Catholicism more palatable, they incorporated elements of the Inca beliefs. For example, a large fresco of the last supper depicts Jesus and disciples enjoying one of Fluffy’s ancestors and many altars were covered in mirrors as homage to the Inca sun god – things you do not see anywhere else.

Lake Titicaca (Peru and Bolivian Side)
From Cusco we visited Lake Titicaca (at 3,800 meters above sea level, the highest navigable lake in the world and the largest in South America) both on the Peruvian and Bolivian sides. We started in Puno (Peru), in a nice hotel, where the international furniture scraping on parquet floor championships going on all night on the floor above us. The lake was astounding, people speak of the deep blue of the water, but until you see it, it is difficult to comprehend. The standard tour incorporates the primitive, man-made floating islands, where the inhabitants proudly showed off their newly acquired solar cell, light and TV.
From Puno, we drove to the other side of the lake (and Bolivia), as all boat crossings have been banned due to drug smuggling, and fought our way through the border crossing, with ridiculous amounts of red tape. We drove to the (original) town of Copacabana and on to Sun Island.” Sun” is a bit of a misnomer, I would expect heat and light from such a place, but it was cloudy and the “eco-lodge” we stayed at, forwent any such ecologically unfriendly devices such as heating. It was freezing, but the clear night gave some breathtaking views of the night sky and the milky way, not normally seen in the northern hemisphere. It was raining the following morning and going down to the harbor via the “Inca steps”, I slipped and got a HUGE bruise on my cheek (not face), which glowed for the rest of the holiday.

Bolivia and La Paz, Highest Capital and Ecuador, and Quito, 2nd Highest
From there it was a 3 hour drive (with a ferry) to La Paz, capital of Bolivia. Driving in, the view of the city, nestled in a natural bowl, was breathtaking (figuratively this time). Our hotel was dead in the center – it was supposed to be a 5-star hotel, but 5-star Bolivian style is about 3 in Europe. The first thing that got me was the sign in the bathroom that any stain on a towel would mean you had to cough up for a new one. As I showered, I admired my pre-stained towel and wondered if I would have to pay.
The next day a walking tour of La Paz was in order – a gasping experience as the streets are very steep in every direction. The guide books say the witches market is impressive, so we wheezed our way up the street to this area, but was a real disappointment. However, we then stumbled on the most amazing “real” market I have ever seen in my life. This is where the real Bolivians do their shopping, it went on for about 2 miles and every side street had a theme; fruit row, pasta market, toys road, fish avenue, bicycle mews – interestingly all the financial transactions were handled by women – not a man to be seen, except as customers.
The last point of call in this stretch was a flight away – Quito in Ecuador, the 2nd highest capital in South America. The 3 hour flight put us in a country that was a highlight, friendly, non-pushy people, with breath taking views of the volcanoes surrounding the city. The city is also close to the equator and we visited the line standing in the northern and southern hemisphere and watching the sleight of hand as the guides demonstrated how the water vortex in a sink rotated different ways on each side of the line.

But this was not the main highlight of Ecuador, which was to come…