Katerina Smyrko

My worst travel blues hit me before I had even gotten home. I blame it on aeroplane travel. I had spent the last 6 months traversing entirely by buses throughout South America. Every kilometre I travelled, I felt. It was tangible. But then, all of a sudden, within 7 or so hours I was on a whole different continent. And instead of the beautiful lilt of Spanish accents peppering the air, there were the thick drawls of Texans. Instead of the fluid disregard for rules and bureaucracy, there were just lines and lines of grumpy people, squabbling with overworked employees, and I could understand every painful word of it. As I sat in that plastic airport chair, waiting for my connecting flight to LA all I could think of was how much I wanted to go ... read more

Argentineans have a little reputation for being conceited. And those from Buenos Aires are meant to be the worst of them all! But why wouldn’t they be? Their city is magic. I am willing to overlook the patronising head pats and giggles when I speak Spanish to them. I am willing to not get frustrated about how fast they say everything in a completely different accent to the other countries I’ve visited. Because I love it in BA. When we arrived, Monica and I tried to check into BA’s infamous Milhouse hostel, where a few of our friends were staying. But alas, both of them were totally full (it’s so popular that there are two) so we checked into a cute little hostel down the road. We didn’t mind. It was hot and sunny and the ... read more

With yet another long, late, stunning and very bumpy bus ride, we left Bolivia. Jonny, the Swiss couple and I walked across the border into La Quiaca Argentina, ready to start the next phase of our adventures! It was windy and cold but the border official had a nice smile. Maria, the Swiss women spoke perfect Spanish, so was able to wrangle us the cheapest bus fare when we were too exhausted to do it ourselves. We ate steaks and mashed potato and real bread served by a lovely bow-tied local and got onto yet another bus. But this one was comfortable, we were provided food and it left exactly when it was meant to, to the minute. We all gave a little cheer as it started off. I had absolutely loved Bolivia, but it was ... read more

Everybody talks about the salt flats when you arrive in Bolivia, it seems a must on the tourist route. And to access these much talked about flats, you need to go to the town of Uyuni. My friend Jonny and I set off far too early on a cramped bus to the middle of nowhere. Actually the whole journey felt like the middle of nowhere, it is so arid and wide and open and seemingly deserted. We stopped in the windswept and tired looking town of Potosi for only half an hour and I ate a later regretted empanada. Around Potosi it was just dry, windy open spaces with only rocks, some meagre scrub and lots of ratty alpacas being led by cholitas. But then the landscape slowly changed to rainbow mountains that were creased peculiarly, ... read more

While backpacking, it’s rare to visit a place more than once. You are almost constantly on the move. So returning to La Paz after my foray into the jungle felt a little like coming home. Places and faces were familiar, a feeling usually unknown! With the two lovely Danes, I checked into Wild Rover hostel and settled quickly back into the whirlwind of La Paz life. I spent the following days enjoying copious white Russians, giggles and hungover shopping with my two gorgeous friends. I spent a night dancing cheesily with Shaz and Charlie, some friends from England I made on the jungle tour and bumped into randomly at the hostel. And one day, ignoring my parent’s voices in my head, I rode Death Road. Someone decided that it would be a good idea to put ... read more

My second jungle trip, a 2 day walking tour through Amazon proper ignited my senses like nothing I have ever experienced before. So here follows: A SENSORY JUNGLE EXPERIENCE. The sweet bite of the juice from the tiny mangoes that fell from the trees with a plonk. The sun beating relentlessly down on the beacks of our necks, our scalps and our thighs as we sit in the boat. The occasional cool splash of river water on your cheek as the boat rocks. The welcome sahde dappling your face as you enter the tree line. The sighs of relief and the stagnant heat that makes you flop as you enter that perfect little pituresque clearing with wooden lodges. The sting of sun in your eyes as you look up to the canopy, trying to see the ... read more

Well that's a tiny plane. Really tiny. Minute. Can that thing really fly? About 12 people aboard the miniscule plane to Rurrenabaque in the Bolivian Amazon. About 12 people having a minor panic attack every time the plane bumped, jiggled or dropped. What's that beeping? I really don't like being able to see in the cock pit. That beeping is still going! Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. But then we are there, touching down smoothly at Rurrenabaque "airport" and it seems like we've all been a little silly really. The "airport" is really just one room of a house and we sit on some plastic seats in the sweltering oppressive heat and wait for our bags. Everyone is already shiny with sweat and flopping considerably, but one Swiss girl and I are loving it. Heat ... read more

The bus ride to La Paz was very relaxing. Having only caught night buses for quite some time, it was lovely to be able to listen to music and watch the landscape of dry mountains, giant lakes and alpacas spin by. And then suddenly we realised we were in El Alto, the poor upper region of La Paz, when we saw a giant sprawling city of chaos and filth spread before us. It was crowded and frenetic, filled with rubbish, cars and Cholitas (women who wear traditional dress) in fantastic tiny bowler hats that they inexplicably were able to keep on their heads. One favourite sighting was of a public mini bus absolutely jammed full of locals, including a bride complete with white frothing wedding gown! And then soon we could see down into the bowl ... read more

Since Machu Picchu, alot has occured, more than can possibly be documented, but I will try my darndest. After returning to Cuzco I had a few lovely days of wandering that beautiful city, getting propositioned by the painting sellers, indulging in all you can eat Indian buffet and multiple comfort meals from Jacks Cafe and having one or two or many drinks with my Machu Picchu buddies at Paddys Irish Bar (the highest Irish bar in the world!) One night, after some liquid energy from Paddys, we found ourselves traversing the town. Spruikers from every club run at you on the street with handfuls of free drink cards and many coersive promises of good times. Thus we found ourselves wandering from one to the next and barely paying for a drink! We indulged in McDonalds (with ... read more

And there it was. Machu Picchu. It had taken three long days to get there but we had arrived. We came over the hill and saw it, sitting there, just like it looks in the post cards but a million times better. More serene, more magical, more mysterious, more mind blowing. The journey there had been hard, but now made it feel all the more sweet to be arriving. Like we had really earned our right to be there. But each day in itself was a wonderful journey through that ever changing, ever mesmerising Peruvian landscape, and we knew that each day led us closer to this magnificent prize. It started with being unceremoniously dropped on the side of the road by my booking agency and told to wait. I was soon joined by a lovely ... read more