Leaving South America remained a very abstract concept until I sat down on the plane for my flight from Quito to Lima. It all became very real at that point and I relaxed, happy to deliver myself into the care of the flight crew. I love flying but this would be a bit of a test, even for me. Due to some naïve decisions, made with the help of my travel agent over a year ago, I was looking down the barrel of fifty hours in transit. My flight had been booked with the requirement that I arrive and depart the [View Full Entry]

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I returned to The Old Town in Quito with a strong feeling of achievement. The Galapagos cruise that had been weighing on my mind for so long had been a huge success and was safely “out of the way”. With three days remaining, I could look back on my entire trip and see an amazing run - not one bad day came to mind. I was also excited to be going home, something that surprised me. I had an energy building inside me that I wanted to get home and focus. I felt a little weird about this final half-week. I [View Full Entry]

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The first thing that I noticed was the smell. A unique, arousing blend of sea spray and jet fuel, whipped along on the hot afternoon breeze. As I followed the orange safety cones across the tarmac, that scent carried a strong feeling of segmentation. Like a Russian Doll, this was to be another holiday from the business of travelling. I had flown out of the cold bustle and smog of Quito and escaped to a paradise. Admittedly, it seemed like everyone else had done the same, and there was a stiff USD100 Park Entry Fee but neither of these issues could [View Full Entry]

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I didn’t think about it at the time but the trip to Quito was my last big bus ride. The service arrived in the city centre at 5am so I was relieved that the hostel I had planned on had rooms available. I sat in silence in the lounge room and ate a fantastic baguette sandwich prepared by the night watchman. Much later, as people began emerging from darkened dorm rooms, I began to get the idea that there had been a very big night here while I was dozing on the bus. Someone appeared to retrieve a pile of their [View Full Entry]

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My time in The Valley was like nothing else I have experienced on my trip to date (and that is all I ask of each new destination). I arrived at the secluded hostel feeling broken and tired but still able to smile happily at the sweet girl who checked me in. I explained that I was sleep-deprived and manic from the buses and she took this as her cue to transform into Florence Nightingale, helping me with my bags and hurrying me into the restaurant so that I could eat before they closed for the night. I thanked her and waited [View Full Entry]

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Arriving back in Huaraz after my trek, I had to sit down and have a think about what I was going to do next. Ever since Cusco I have been wandering a bit. Everything to that point had been carefully planned but the second half has been mapped out entirely on impulse. Often I just make up my mind about the next spot and go and buy a bus ticket to travel that same night. Prior to leaving for the Santa Cruz Valley I had been panicking a bit about getting to Ecuador and booking my Galapagos cruise. I had almost [View Full Entry]

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I arrived in Huaraz in that spaced-out state that is becoming so familiar. A bumpy night of fifty ten-minute naps, it´s like blinking incredibly slowly, a strobe-lit vista out the window. Abruptly spat out in the early-morning glare of new city to face the aggressive touts. As much as I stand out as a gringo, I still feel ultra-conspicuous trudging through unfamiliar streets with my big bag, all turtled-up. It was even worse with my newly-acquired limp, I could almost see the jackals trotting along behind me and vultures taking interest from three hundred feet above. It must sound like an [View Full Entry]

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It could have been anywhere, it just happened to be Lima. Sometimes you arrive at a big hostel at the perfect moment to catch a wave of pure madness, that is exactly what happened to me in Barranco, Lima. I never, ever, intended to go to Lima. I chose to believe the overwhelming majority of information that I had come across which had made it sound dirty, dangerous and generally without appeal. My plan was always to skip straight through the city, if possible, and to see nothing more than was visible from the bus window. This all changed when my [View Full Entry]

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Part one of my plan went off without a hitch. Immediately on our return from the canyon I began racing around Arequipa in a series of tiny taxis. These little yellow boxes are everywhere buzzing through the streets and beeping their horns every fifty metres. They are so comically small that two people could probably lift one out of the way if it parked your car into a spot. With the adrenaline pumping and my empty stomach growling, I did a mad repack of my bag and raced between the bus terminal and my hostel to secure a ticket. After wolfing [View Full Entry]

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Almost all trips out to The Colca Canyon feature a seven hour trip by packed local bus. I really wanted to avoid this so I ensured that my agency used a “private car” for the long driving sections. I have heard enough stories about flapping chickens, vomit in the aisles and vacuum-sealed stench to avoid public buses for anything more than a one hour trip. As it turned out, the private car was a thirty-seater minibus and I, along with two Californian girls from the hostel, piled in happily to meet the rest of the group. This was shaping up to [View Full Entry]

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