Steve's words: Another great border crossing into Paraguay, the locals just catch the boat, non locals catch a series of local buses to a bridge with big rusty holes in it, then wade through some mud, dodge our way past hundreds of people exchanging money, passport stamped then onto a tiny bus with far too many people on, and we're in. Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay, the words of the lonely planet ringing in our ears "you could get mugged anytime" or something like that. We entered a quiet city of mostly low rise colonial design, with a few grand plazas, [View Full Entry]

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Vik's bit: I have never seen so many cows. They're everywhere. Wandering the Argentinian streets, chilling in the plazas, packing out the fields. Slightly reminiscent of India - in terms of sharing the roads - but unlike India, they are only sacred here once they land on the plate. Beef and some gloopy caramel-type sauce they call 'Dulce de Leche'; both seem to whip up unprecedented amounts of national fervour (Margaret Thatcher, somewhat less popular, but we've only been told to "f··· her" twice). Given the excitement generated by a slab of steak, it seems a mystery that people are happ [View Full Entry]

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Steve´s mumblings: Into Sucre, hotly persued by Jon and Alex the amiable Aussies. A super white city, crammed full of colonial/mezito architecture, grand plaza, and impressive array of churches. The Andean indigenous folk make a return, bowler hats, massive skirts... and a bit of attitude. The smell of meat on stick, and small shops packed full of ramdon stuff. Hot showers... heated by gas!!!!! A museum with pictures of all the presidents (some amazing facial hair), more mummy museums (with distorted heads) more pictures of Christ (mostly the pained, blood covered versions). Lazy days spen [View Full Entry]

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From Vik: And so into the land of just about 'the highest' everything...highest capital city, highest non-capital city, highest football stadium, highest other stadiums, highest vineyards, highest volcanoes, highest animals on volcanoes, and so the list goes on (as you can start to imagine). But, would you believe it Ian & Shell, NOT the highest largest navigable lake. Allegedly there are other more likely contenders; we were duped by the Lake Titicaca propagandaists. Unbelievable. Although said lake is still a pretty stunning body of water, and perhaps even more so from the Bolivian side [View Full Entry]

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The Steve bit. Landing in Santiago Chile was one of our more simple arrivals. Chile presented itself as a well-organised and clean country, and then we found out how much accommodation costs! So one night, then on the bus we set off into the Atacama desert; 30hrs of vast mountain ranges of desert, and every now and then a cactus to look at. Chilean cuisine seems mostly centred around the Hot Dog, with the top delicacy being the "Completo" - a hot dog smothered in every sauce that you can think of - there were restaurants packed with people eating them. [View Full Entry]

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ian's bit We were high as kites for well over two weeks. So high at first that my head spun, I was breathless and was forced to lie down. We all agreed, over one of our many three course breakfasts, that this was as high as we'd ever been. And as Vik approached and then passed her 30th birthday - I know, at her age. But then you kind of get used to the altitude and don't really notice it. Although that isn't quite true when you're up a mountain and climbing a mountain. But the Inca trail was well worth [View Full Entry]

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Vik´s version: And so we made our flight. Only just. And our final few hours in SE Asia were a little less calm than anticipated; a hasty Pad Thai as we motored through the streets of Bangkok in the midday heat and no time for a farewell Chang, just a rapid dash for the airport. And then the problems really started. Our delight at arriving at the check-in desk soon subsided when the exceptionally smiley lady informed us that we did not have the correct visa to travel to Australia. In fact we did not have any visa to travel to [View Full Entry]

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Vik's bit: So the compulsory border shananigans (particularly enjoyable when you're surfacing from - yet another - overnight bus journey) and we arrived bright as buttons(!) in what must certainly be the quietest capital in the world, Vientiane. So much so that by Day 3, Steve and I were beginning to wonder if there had been a military coup and we had missed it. But as there seemed no immediate threat of danger we opted to stay and soak up the solitude. And then onto 'The Plain of Jars', which are pretty much as the title suggests; a plain (or two) [View Full Entry]

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Steve's rumblings: Our arrival in Phnom Penh was full of mixed feelings, having recently read 'First they Killed my Father' (good tip Bickford) the dark empty streets seemed ominous. However this may have been due to really poor street lighting, and the new year, which is celebrated here by going home, for which most people head for the countryside (perhaps one of the remnants of the Khmer Rouge era?). It was hard to gauge how the city must appear normally, as most shops were closed and there was little traffic through the day, although the parks were packed at night. The [View Full Entry]

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Vik's account: And if you know you're history, it's enough to make your heart go wohohohoh...Tell me ma, me ma, we don't want know tea, no tea, we're going to Wembley...!!! We tried to spot you on the tele Ian, Steve was certain you would have backcombed your hair and dyed it black for the occassion!! Maybe for the final?? Anyway... We continued to plunge southward through Vietnam via, what turned out to be, a very well worn trail. The slender shape of the country creates the perfect channel for the belt of tourists and by the time we left it [View Full Entry]

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