Arequipa - Sighting the lesser spotted boobie...

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sabado, 5 de junio
Arequipa, would love to give you all the spiel but we're so far behind the diary that we no longer have any of the guides. Arequipa, much like Sucre in Bolivia, is known as the White City. Not because the buildings are made from volcanic rock but in fact because the inhabitants have a fairer shade of skin to the rest of Peru (and the inherent superiority complex that comes with it).

Not really. I hope for your own sake you didn't believe that. It's true they are paler, it's true that they hold themselves higher than other Peruvians, the naming they could never get away with.

Arequipa follows the same grid system as the rest of South America (or the World but the UK), the main square in the centre of town a whole block. There is a huge church/ceremonial building at one end through which a volcano can be seen between the tower ends. Not photo'd well in the brightness of the sunshine. There's a monastery and several other ornate churches scattered around what is a fairly tight city. We both have commented how safe we have felt here - a welcome change from the bustle of La Paz.

Touring the centre part of town didn't take too long so we took time to chill in the main square. Flanked by the balconied restaurants on either side it's as good a place as any to people watch. Enjoying the sight of the woman selling jelly and cream run and hide from the wandering policeman. Laughing at children's charity man get embarrassed as he "accidentally" touched Hayley's boob putting a sticker on her. Taking note of the children trying to kick the pigeons the hardest - tomorrow's despots and murderers.

On the way home Hayley accidentally got an eyeshot of Bolivian boob on its way to a baby's mouth. Her look of embarrassment far outweighed the woman's at about the ratio of Lennox Lewis fighting Naseem Hamed's sperm. We can't fully document South America without commenting on the boob phenomenon here. It's not like home. They all do it. And the kids aren't even that young. One had a moustache. Okay maybe not but they might win a fight or two. We have seen more boobs than Inca statues; all shapes and sizes. I can swear I saw a woman barely lift her top, just flop her milker out the bottom and feed her child at WAIST LEVEL. She must have carried the kid around dangling to stretch them so much...

Early to bed. You'll find out why tomorrow.

domingo, 6 de junio
We just smashed the getting up early record for this trip. At 2am we were sat outside the hostel waiting for our bus to the Colca Canyon. This is early enough to question whether you still want to do a trip. We sat outside the hostel (El Conquistador) watching drunks come out of the opposite casino and nearby nightclub. One man was there our entire wait and achieve nothing but sway and maybe face a different direction to where he started. We were locked out of the hostel and stood no chance if the famous Arequipa rapist was feeling lucky.

At 3.30am the tour guide arrived. Guess what he blamed his lateness on at this hour? Traffic!!! Would have believed him more if he'd said Ricky Gervais' Flanimals had been having a party at his house and he couldn't get rid of them.

At 3.30am, two and a half hours from our intended destination, you would think that sleep was as vital as water is to a desert trekker. Well, the German couple on this MPV didn't. Instead on went the i-pod and talking like you'd forgotten it's there (we've all done it - just not at 3.30 in the morning). And then singing. And then snogging, virtaully sat on my lap. For reference they shall be known as Mr. and Mrs. Kuntz (what? It's a legitimate German surname) for this blog.

She smelt. He was the biggest weasel ever. A shame to all men.

The trip consisted of several lookouts (miradores) over the canyon which were all spectacular and photo'd like they had been painted. The kind of picture hi-def DVD ruins when it's in real life film. In a sweet bit of justice, Mrs. Kuntz dropped a contact lens and was stuck with her glasses all day. Her pain was clear, my joy was more so. We were treated to a lecture by our bespectacled guide on the local tribes that once existed, and still do to an extent, once again emphasising the importance of funny shaped skulls.

The highlight of the day had to be condor spotting. Obviously (to anyone who consistently reads our blog) we had had our experience of them and therefore didn't set our expectations too high despite the guide's enthusiasm and weren't even disappointed when sightings at Colca's sanctuary appeared limited. Then, the clouds lifted under the mid-morning sun. And out came the condors. 1-2-3...11 at one time we spotted. Amazing. Even better, 2 perched right in front of the viewing point spreading wings and chewing the cud. The hundreds of tourists watched in awe. Two of them didn't. The Kuntzs had gone down the road for a walk! Yes! Proof of God exists!

Later we made a stop at the thermal baths which Mrs. Kuntz kicked off about because she wanted lunch. Take our time then. The thermals were less of a heated pool as a pool with hot water flowing into a small part of it. At least all of the Frenchies forgot their swimmers and went in in their underwear.

The afternoon had some colonial village stops and a high point (about 4,800m) looking out to 5 volcanoes. Mrs. Kuntz picked some scab on her nose/lip all the 3 hours home and dropped it on my shoes. I swear if I see them again, I may kill them. If they are on our Machu Picchu trip, I'll kill myself.

lunes, 7 de junio
Caught the bus back to Puno. Uneventful but for some woman who smashed a ton of crockery in the hostel at 4.50am and knocked on loads of doors. She went mental.

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