Chau Peru!

I've not been in the best frame of mind to enjoy Buenos Aires. In fact I've had a bit of a nightmare. Maybe it's because I lost my lucky coca seed when I put my hiking trousers in the wash...

Just before I (eventually) left the airport after my flight from Lima, I decided I'd better get some money out. That's when I discovered I'd lost my Barclays debit card. I think it's those stupid ATMs in Peru that only give you back your card after you've recieved your money - I must have forgotten to collect my card. I got to my hotel at about 5.30 (my flight landed at 1.30!!) knackered and worried. Hotel Splendid, the departure point for my GAP tour through southern Patagonia, is not too splendid, but the price list said $120 for a single! At that point I couldn't face looking for a cheaper alternative and having to move out the next day, so I just accepted it. I dumped my stuff and headed off out again to find a phone place and an ATM to get some money out with my emergency credit card. I needed dollars for the local payment for my GAP tour, and some Argentinian pesos to keep me going. I tried 2 big banks and my credit card did not work. I went to a locutorio to use the net and the phone; my card was rejected by PayPal and I couldn't get through to Barclays to cancel the card, the bank of my credit card, or my parents to give me a hand. The particularly unhelpful man in the locutorio refused to accept that it was a problem with his phones and insisted that the lines in England were not working. Aaaah! I owed GAP $300 tomorrow, the hotel $120 for the night, and money to keep me solvent, but I had only about $100 to my name. I was all alone in a huge new city and couldn't get in touch with anyone at home. Plus I'd had an average of about 4 hours sleep a night for over a week now. I was pretty stressed out.

I'm just about sorted nearly 24 hours later. It turns out that the stupid man was wrong, it WAS his phones that were shitty, because another locutorio worked fine and I got through to England. It took 2 attempts to activate my credit card, and I've still not been able to get dollars, but at least I can get money. And I've been able to use my card to pay for my next hostel over the internet. Plus I've now realised that the $ sign here actually means pesos, which are worth a third of a US dollar. So my room actually costs $40. Not cheap (especially considering the naff breakfast of fatty croisants, stale coffee and disgustingly sugary "orange juice") but a lot better than I'd thought.

So, Buenos Aires. It's called the Paris of South America, and it certainly feels more like Europe than a part of the South America I'm used to. Leaving the airport on the bus felt much like leaving Manchester airport, but for the Spanish roadsigns and driving on the right. The motorways are big and modern with loads of interchanges and junctions (and functioning traffic lights that drivers actually obey), and there were green fields and big green trees, and coming into the city there are what appear to be 1960s and 1970s high rise flats and offices. The centre is full of banks, posh clothes and shoe shops, western-style restaurants and bars, and lots of pedestrianised plazas with statue centrepieces. There are even functioning pelican crossings! But what's most significant in producing the European feel? The rain. Oh yes. It's pissing it down and very grey. Just like London. So my first purchase with my newly acquired pesos was a much-needed umbrella.

The European feel is quite nice though. Argentina, since it's recent economic crash whenever it was, is still really cheap, so you can get European food, clothes and shoes at South American prices. And there are lots of really interesting little shops and cafés I'm looking forward to exploring. Also, I am small again. After feeling like a pasty blonde giant (and a bit more powerful for it) amongst the tiny native Americans, I am once more a normal looking girl in a city of (generally) European looking people.

I am sad to leave Peru. I could have spent my remaining four months just exploring more of it. Plus I only had a few hours with Hels, who was in Cuzco on my last day to start her Inca trail with GAP. We got to catch up over a wander round the town and some lunch. Very nice, but way too brief! And I definitely could have spent another week at least in and around Cuzco. It's full of gringos (I ran into a bunch of students from my Quito language school there, and one of the i-to-i girls from Lima) but it's such a cool place. Three days and nights were nowhere near enough; I could spend those just wandering round the markets buying souvenir stuff. At least I now have a lovely cosy Alpaca jumper to keep me warm down in Patagonia. And a pair of gloves, and a hat, and a new bag to hold my Lonely Planet... Bargaining in Africa was good training, I got some good deals. The city itself is quite small, but full of character thanks to its narrow cobbled streets, red-tiled roofs and impressive central plazas in which stand the historic and beautiful cathedrals and churches. There are some great cafes and restaurants - not least a place called "Fallen Angel". It's tables are bath-tubs filled with water and real fishes topped with a pane of glass, it's full of funky modern art (including a few paintings that would seem to confirm it's reputation as gay-friendly), and there are no Ladies and Gents loos but rather two cubicles decorated as "heaven" and "hell" respectively, you can choose which one to use depending on "how you feel". The nightlife is pretty good too, with clubs playing everything from 1980s ballads to salsa, reggaeton (yay) and western dance music. There are a lot of drugs about though... and, amongst pretty much every nationality imaginable, a LOT of Israeli blokes using their free post-military-service air tickets.

And then there was the Inca trail. How to summarise that week?! It was certainly very touristy. Being in a large group (16) of gringos makes touristiness unavoidable, but there were also about 100 other groups of gringos doing the same thing a few paces ahead and behind us. But it was definitely definitely worth it. First of all we had our Sacred Valley tour. That was pretty neat. There are so many fascinating Inca sites in the area that you could spend a week just discovering more of those. After trying out our first Inca steps in the ruins, we visited the "Inca Bar", where we tried our hands at a very bizarre bar game called frogs (in which you attempt to throw large metal coins into the mouth of a frog), saw a room full of guinea pigs being fattened up, and sampled some Andean chicha (beer fermented from maize). It's definitely an acquired taste. Although the pink version, "sweetened" with strawberries, was a little less sour.

The first few hours of the Inca trail only confirmed my fears that it would be way too touristy and far less beautiful than Huaraz. We left our bus in a field that served as a bus park for the countless other tourists doing the same thing, and walked down to the checkpoint, where we were given our mass-printed tickets and glossy leaflets about the trek, in return for registering ourselves with our passports. We set off, with our crew of 22 porters carrying all our stuff, along a highway of people lined with electricity pylons and cables and peppered with stalls selling soft drinks and snacks what felt like every 200m. I was pretty disappointed.

Fortunately things improved as we walked further. I'm very glad I bought a replacement camera in Cuzco before we left. Even if it is a naff Kodak EasyShare. We left the main electricity route and entered more beautiful and rugged valleys and mountains. Our crazy guide Ali made sure that we were the slowest group by stopping every 10 minutes for a 20 minute break, so we soon lost the majority of the other hikers. Although lacking the towering snowy peaks of the Cordillera Blanca, the Inca trail is undoubtedly beautiful. The views from the high passes were spectacular, and the steep jungle-covered valleys and wide winding rivers in the cloud forest on the climb down to Machu Picchu are just incredible. Best of all, the Inca trail is far more than just the route to Machu Picchu, for there are countless Inca sites along the way that are impressive themselves. Unfortunately, after three days of beautiful weather (and nicely dry paths), the day we arrived to Machu Picchu was very very cloudy. We got to the Sun Gate, from where can be enjoyed the beautiful first views of the ruined city, to see...clouds. We waited for two hours but it never really cleared up. Nevertheless, even without nice blue skies as a backdrop, Machu Picchu is very impressive. It's setting is what makes it so special - nestled between steep mountains and surrounded (covered, until the excavation) by dense jungle, it's amazing it was discovered at all. Four of us decided to climb Huayna Picchu mountain, which overlooks Machu Picchu. It's even steeper than the Inca trail and scarily so on the way down. We got to the top and saw...nothing, again. Although the picture of us sat on a rock against a perfectly white background is kind of amusing.

The trail was pretty tough, more so than I'd expected. I had no problems with the altitude, except feeling a little light headed after getting off the plane in Cuzco at 3,600m. (Though that was probably the result of lack of sleep after getting up at 3.30am following 4 nights in tents and buses.) But the path is very steep, both up and down. The ascent to Dead Woman's Pass (so called not because it claimed the life of some unlucky gringa, but because the shape of the mountains resembles a woman lying on her back, apparently) is comprised of steep, unrelentless rocky steps. Fortunately we had lots of stops to regroup and catch our breath. But the way down was even steeper - especially the section of stairs nicknamed the "Gringo-killer steps". We all bought a bag of coca leaves to help us along - as well as a a black blob of stuff that apparently is the ash of burnt jungle vegetables which. Aly showed us how to roll 3 coca leaves up with a bit of the ash, which when chewed with the coca brings out the chemicals that do the magic. It certainly makes your mouth numb. The porters seemed to like it though, they always had a lump in each cheek. (And a pint of chicha in their hands at every stop.) I got sick of the taste after a while and gave up. I didn't feel any different chewing it. My rucksack still honks of coca, however. I'd better make sure I air it properly before coming back to blighty since it's treated as a drug outside of South America.

My group was really good fun. I was the only solo traveller, the others were with friends, spouses or family, so it was a little lonely at times. But not really. It was a very international group - there were two Norwegian girls, two Swedish blonde girls, three Danish blondes, an Australian blonde who turned 21 on the day we got to Machu Picchu (!!) and her parents, and an English couple on their honeymoon, as well as the three comedy Irish guys. Our guide was very entertaining and made sure the group gelled really well. (Even if he did take it a bit far by trying it on with the girls when we hit the Cuzco clubs on the final night.) We had singing sessions and joke sessions. Turns out our Englishman, Scottishman, and Irishman jokes are rivalled by Norwegian, Swede and Dane jokes. The food was unbelievably good. Everyday we were served sit-down multi-course breakfast, lunch and dinner at a long table duly decked out in an Andean tablecloth and adorned with 18 serviettes folded differently each day. This is as well as daily snacks and tea and biscuits on our return to camp in the afternoon. On the final night our "international waiter" (still trying to figure that one out, he only spoke Spanish and Quechua...maybe it was the serviettes) brought out a beautifully decorated cake dedicated to los Chulyos, which are the Andean woolen hats with earflaps, and which was the name of our group. I do feel that the porters/cooks/general slaves are rather exploited. They do all this amazing cooking, and put up our tents before we return and take them down in the mornings, as well as lug all our stuff up the mountains about twice as fast as we do with a fraction of the weight on our backs. One porter we passed was 72!

So with good memories and new friends (some of them now Facebook friends; it's practically global...) I came down with a bump to Argentina. I'd love to go back to Peru. But there's so much more of this continent to see, I have to move on. Tonight I meet my new group for my Patagonia tour, and we fly down into the southern tip of Chile tomorrow morning. Very much looking forward to it. We should get to see seals, penguins and maybe condors, not to mention the glaciers and snowy mountains of southern Patagonia. I'm missing the mountains already.

Fresh air at last

I admit that anything would appear fresh and beautiful after a month in the dry, noisy, polluted city of Trujillo, but this part of Peru has to be one of the most beautiful places in the world. Dad, you'd have been in heaven; I wish I could have shipped you out here for a birthday treat. If ever you get the chance, go to Huaraz and do the Santa Cruz hike. We walked through lush green valleys, among wild horses, cows and sheep, past bright blue lakes, and along roaring rivers with rapids and waterfalls. We climbed cold and rugged high passes between awesome snowy peaks in the sleet and bracing winds. We saw quaint thatched peasant dwellings and met rosy-cheeked kids in tatty traditional dress asking for caramelos in return for photos. We camped in the company of the highest mountains of the Cordillera Blanca, some of the most impressive in South America.

Sadly the weather was not in our favour. The path was basically a large stream which we had no option but to wade through at points, and our campsite last night (strategically located right next to a bulging river) was a swamp by the morning. It's a wonder I've not got trenchfoot after living in soggy walking boots for four days. The nights were pretty miserable - even wearing my thermals, two extra pairs of trousers, two fleeces, extra socks and a hat, it was still too cold to stop shivering and sleep. And that's when there wasn't a small pond in my tent. We only got rare glimpses of the mountains through the clouds. To top it off, the rain had weakened the valley walls and there had been several recent landslides. One large rockfall blocked the path for 500m or so, making it too dangerous for the donkeys to pass. We were therefore without our trusty burros from this point on, and had to lug all our tents, cooking equipment and rucksacks accross this treacherous rocky section and beyond. It would have been scary enough clambering over the debris with both hands empty, but carrying my sack of spare clothes and sleeping back in one hand and the bag of everyone's sleeping mats in the other across loose rocks on a steep mountainside was terrifying. Though I got off lightly; one guide tied three heavy wooden boxes to his back and set off down the valley at a sprint. Unbelievable.

But it was well worth it. Those few long-awaited glimpses of the mountains, when the clouds deigned to part for a few minutes, were all the more special for their rarity. Waking up to dawn views of six or seven towering peaks looming over our tiny campsite, before the clouds returned to shroud them from view again, was pretty awe-inspiring. Certainly, the obscurity and darkness of the mountain peaks gave them an air of mystery and danger. It was very easy to believe that hundreds have died in pursuit of their summits. When the rain (finally) ceased on our last day, we were able to appreciate the beauty of the Santa Cruz valley in sunlight. I just can't imagine how amazing it must be in the drier months when the weather is consistently good. To make it even more magical, we were treated to a rare sighting of a condor soaring above us on the journey out of the valley and back to Huaraz. It was the icing on the cake.

I hope the Slovakians didn't mind me joining their group. They were Jani and Ladi, 28 and 27, one a rock-climbing enthusiast and trek guide in the Slovakian mountains (which I am now very tempted to visit), the other a linguist and aspiring writer, both keen travellers just enoying life without getting tied down to demanding careers. Sounds good to me. Jani is mad-keen on photography and took over 250 photos in those four days. We often had to wait for him to catch up whilst he erected and dissembled his tripod next to get the perfect shot of a couple of cows or a waterfall. Oh how I wish I'd not lost my camera back in Ecuador. All three of us suffered a bit with soroche (altitude sickness) after climbing the 4,750m pass and camping at 4,250m. We had throbbing headaches, and the going was tough on the climbs. Drinking coca tea and chewing on the leaves can only do so much (if it does anything at all). Conversely, our well-acclimatised guides claimed that they have problems breathing at sea level. The guys had digestion problems too. It can't have been the water. I actually grew to like drinking iodine-flavoured melted glacier. The taste is hard to describe; I'm not sure whether it was more like licking a hospital floor or drinking from a swimming pool. The Slovakians turned out to be jolly nice chaps. I've been promised Jani's best photos (which ought to be damn good considering the number he took and the time he spent taking them) and a warm welcome if I visit Slovakia. Though I do have certain reservations. After those four days I have been left with two inexplicable puncture wounds, about an inch apart, on my right arm. Is Slovakia close to Transylvannia...?

I'm back in hot noisy Lima again today. I'm actually grateful to be here. Our trek guide Liz told me that the road between Huaraz and Lima is quite dangerous and there are frequent accidents, especially in the middle of the night when tired bus drivers fall asleep at the wheel and miss one of the many sharp turns, sending a busload of passengers hurtling over the mountainside. After hearing that, my smugness at saving money and time with a cheap overnight ticket for the trip had turned into regret and a growing sense of doom. Actually, after my terror subsided slightly when we didn't crash in the first few hours, it was actually a very pleasant journey. After three sleepless nights shivering in a cold damp tent, the dryness and warmth of the bus were blissful. In a couple of day's time I'll be doing the camping thing all over again with a new group on the way to Machu Picchu. I can't imagine that the trek will be as beautiful as Santa Cruz, but I'm praying it won't be as wet either. Hopefully I'll be acclimatised and won't get the headaches again. I'm meeting my fellow trekkers tomorrow, but I've encountered a few of them alreadys - three football-loving Irish guys in their mid-late 20s who seem to have survived so far in South America on a diet consisting entirely of beer. They were on their way to a bar.

Oh dear. I'm listening to a female gospel choir singing a Spanish translation of Robbie's "Angels". Think it might be time to go.

Happy Birthday Dad!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD! Sorry I'm not there to say it properly in person, but I owe you a treat when I get back. Miss you!

Arrived in Huaraz this morning, at 6.30am. Had a pretty uncomfortable journey and didn't get more than a few hours' sleep (including some wierd dream about Jennifer Aniston losing her nice-girl image and her youthful looks and developing skin like wrinkled leather...), but I'm grateful I got here at all. Stupid me was convinced for some reason that my bus left at 9.30pm, but it was only arriving at the bus station at 9.25 when I looked at my ticket, which was for the 9.00 bus. I'd missed it. Thankfully, the nice guy at the counter (after laughing at me for being a stupid gringa) found me a place on the 9.30 bus.

My last week or so in Trujillo was more of the same really. Sandboarding at the weekend was interesting. I think our guide was hungover, or maybe just a bit useless. He didn't introduce himself or bother to ask our names, and we spent the 40 minute journey to the dunes listening to the old fat taxi driver cackle as he took the piss out of our guide and flirted with some other girl that came along for the ride, seemingly to take publicity photos. The taxi driver had a big scar on his arm. I reckon he probably went a joke too far one night and rubbed someone up the wrong way. We stopped in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rocky mountains and lots of sand, under the burning sun. Facing us was a very steep and very high sand dune. Guide dude just handed us each a board, and started climbing up the sand. I guessed we were supposed to follow him. Not easy. I eventually reached him where he'd stopped, panting a lot. Nicky had stopped for a break about half-way up. He put my board down and gestured for me to get strapped on. It was only at this point, on the edge of a 50m near-vertical slope, did he think to ask how many times we'd been sandboarding before. It took the camera girl to suggest that we go from a little lower down to start with. We were both pretty useless, much to the amusement of the taxi driver, and Nicky gave up after about 3 goes so it was just me wobbling down the sand and trudging back up again. Hot, sweaty and sandy, we called it a day after only about an hour and a half.

It was sad to say goodbye to the kids in the Benificencia. Though the blow was lessened by the fact that some little blighter ransacked my purse and stole my money! I only discovered what had happened later in the evening. They didn't take much, perhaps 30 soles (8 pounds or so) in notes, including one fake note that someone had fobbed off on me the other day. I know they're poor but that's just cheeky! I decided to let it go, and didn't let it stop me giving out sweets the next - my last - day. But I did leave my bag in a box with the teacher's stuff, thinking it would be safer. I got home feeling a bit sad at leaving them but grateful for the experience, only to discover when I looked in my purse that the little bastards had done it again! I'm not trusting anyone from now on!

On Thursday Nicky and I visited a really interesting mueseum of pre-Inca ceramics. No it didn't sound very interesting to me either. But, with a guide to point out the points of interest, I reckon it was worth the 7 soles entry fee. The small room held over 1000 pieces from different pre-Inca civilizations. Apparently, in the absence of writing, ceramics were the language of the people in those days. Though at first sight they seem like a load of drably coloured and primitively decorated pots, it turns out that loads can be learnt about the culture of the times from the designs of the pieces. Sculpted human faces and figures demonstrate the presence of such diseases and abnormalities as cleft-lip, leprosy, blindness, Downs syndrome, elefantitis, thyroid abnormalities, some gruesome sexually transmitted infections and some awful-looking disease that eats away at the face. Sculptures of faces with beards and of people of African and Asian origin indicate the presence of non-native peoples way before the Conquest. Native Peruvians can't grow beards! Feeling proud of ourselves after a morning of culture, we hit the beach for the rest of the afternoon.

Huaraz seems like a pretty town. I found my hostel (a $5 a night cheapo) and my dorm easily, and woke up the only other resident in there, a friendly German girl on a break from her job in Lima. We wandered out for some breakfast, past the indigenous men pushing carts full of whole plucked chickens, and the women, children in tow, selling bread and juice from their little mobile stalls. I was hoping to see some traditional Semana Santa celebrations, but it seems that the most important event of Semana Santa - the procession reliving Jesus walking to the crucifiction site with his cross - happened in the middle of the night last night. After the German girl (still don't know her name!) left for her tour, I started what I thought would be a mission to find a company offering the 4-day Santa Cruz trek leaving tomorrow. But two other gringos wanting to do the same thing wandered into the first agency I tried. The agency seems professional - they have nice photos at least - so I'm leaving tomorrow at 6.30am with two hairy Slovakians.

Please wear helmets when on your bikes!

Saw a really awful accident in the centre of Trujillo yesterday lunchtime. Given the chaos in the roads all the time and the absence of traffic lights at many busy junctions in the grid-patterned city, I'd assumed that there must be lots of crashes. But this is the first time I've witnessed a serious crash so close-up.

Already the details are a little faded. Nicky and I had literally just crossed a street at a junction when I heard brakes screeching. I turned round just in time to see, right next to us, two cars and a motorbike coming from different directions collide. The battered yellow taxi (surprise surprise) was a mess at the front, but I think that was because it was so decrepit in the first place. They weren't going too fast, and the drivers and passengers of both cars were ok. The motorbike was toppled though, and both guys fell off. One, who may have been wearing a helmet, was ok, but the other guy, wearing no protective gear whatsoever, suffered a huge impact. To my relief he got up and staggered towards the pavement from which we were watching. But a few seconds later, with blood streaming from his nose and other scary-looking places (possibly ears), he collapsed into the arms of the other.

By this time a huge crowd had gathered with their hands over their open mouths looked a bit horrified. Nothing seemed to be happening very quickly, except the swelling of the crowds, but a few people did get on their mobiles to call the emergency services. An authoritative-seeming woman that I hope was a doctor or nurse strode through. A man carried a weeping young boy away from the scene. As Nicky pointed out, there wasn't much we could do, so we left. But for the rest of the day I couldn't clear from my mind those images of the immediate aftermath of the crash: of the injured man as he staggered away, clearly in shock but as if relieved to be able to get up, struggling to get it together; and then a few seconds later the vision of his face crumpling as he lost consciousness and his body gave way to his injuries. I just discovered today that he died in hospital.

On to more cheerful things. Nicky and I went to Cajamarca this weekend, a town in the lower Andes where the last king of the Incas, Atahualpa, met and was betrayed and murdered by the Spanish conquistadors. It's a charming town with lots of pretty old buildings and quaint plazas - and less taxi traffic. It's set in a wide lush valley between green hills scattered with peasant settlements. So there are loads of cute peasants in their traditional colourful layers and odd hats working the fields and walking their donkeys accross the mountains. We took a hike up into the hills to get to a set of Inca ruins recommended in the Lonely Planet, but after 5 hours of climbing without finding it (when it was supposed to take only four), it started raining hard. After getting very wet and miserable, we decided to give up and turn back. I felt very guilty because Nicky's never really been hiking before and had no rain protection, so she was very tired and absolutely drenched! Hopefully she doesn't hate me too much for dragging her up there! It was beautiful until the rain came. The next day we visited the natural hot baths (used by Atahualpa before he met the Spaniards), some funerary niches dug into the mountainside, an touristy Alpine dairy producing Swiss cheese founded by some German dude, and a nice botanical garden with noisy frogs and a guinea-pig pen. A very nice weekend away from the noise, heat, pollution and general stressfulness of Trujillo!

I have less than a week left in Trujillo. Four days in the Benificencia, and 3 in the other institution we've started visiting, a school for kids - and adults who haven't been able to leave - with special needs and severe learning difficulties. At first I wasn't sure how I'd cope, having no experience with such people. But they're just like other kids, except that they look a bit different, are slower, more difficult to understand, and some of them are about 40. They can be really cute, and it was really inspiring playing a bit of volleyball with them and seeing how much enjoyment they got out of sport, despite being barely able to catch a ball. I do feel sorry for the kids with less severe problems though. The spectrum of severity is so broad that some kids, who to me seem compus mentus but just a bit slow, are forced to do the same tedious colouring-in activities as others who make odd noises all the time and can barely coordinate crayon with paper. I say kids, but I'm actually referring to the group of adults, aged between about 16 and 40. Mentally, they're effectively kids I suppose. They behave loads better than the little mites at the Benificencia.

I'm going to Huaraz next Weds night, since schools are closed for Easter from Thursday and I only have to be in Lima for the start of my Macchu Picchu trip for the 11th. Huaraz is up in the Cordillera Blanca, the highest mountain range in the Andes. It claims to be the best place for hiking possibly in South America, so I'm hoping to get stuck in. Not sure if I'll attempt any summits, but apparently there's a beautiful 4-day trek with amazing views that rizes to 4,900m or so, so I want to try that. Need to get acclimatised for the Inca Trail.

This weekend though Nicky and I are going to try sandboarding and surfing, and hit the beach in between! Wahey! Hopefully it won't rain like it did yesterday. It's not supposed to rain here and it pissed it down for hours, so there's been a huge fuss about it in the papers and everything. How very British to moan so much about the weather.

Trujillo and Troublesome Kids

I just want to tear my hear out! The kids are insane. They're all very cute (tanned skin and big brown eyes), and there are some absolutely adorable ones that I just want to cuddle all day, but there are some right monsters too. The worst little terror, who barely listens to me anyway, has just discovered that I'm ticklish, so there goes the tiniest fragment of control over him I might have had.

I'm working in an instution called "La Benificencia Publica de Trujillo", and to be honest I'm still trying to figure out myself exactly what it does. I was told before I came that it was a home for abandoned an orphaned children, and the description of my project was "community work with orphans". But of some 150 children in the school, very few "internos" actually sleep there, and those that do only stay during the weeks and return to their homes at the weekends. All of the children have homes to go to then, even if they live with aunts and uncles. The majority live with at least one of their parents. It seems to me that the Benificencia takes children whose families cannot afford the time or money to look after them properly outside of school hours (if they are of school age). It provides supervision, food and showers for the kids during weekdays, and all children up to the age of about 12 are catered for. I've asked several people on different occasions about how the Benificencia works, but I've struggled to understand the answers correctly, and have received different answers each time! So I'm working on it...

The kids are split up into two halves: those of school age, and those too young for school. The latter group are subdivided and cared for by year group, whilst the older ones are divided into two groups depending on whether they go to school in the mornings or in the afternoons. (There seem to be two sessions in Peru: 8am - 1pm or 1pm to 6.) In the mornings, Nicky (another English volunteer) and I both help out with the older kids, whilst in the afternoons she tries to teach English to the 5 year olds, whilst I help out with the other bunch of older kids. The mornings are dead easy, as the kids are fresh and calm and work pretty quietly. The morning teacher is nice (despite having bad headaches everyday), and the kids are too, generally. When they get bored of their homework, or finish it, they come and play with us and laugh at our English and attempts at Spanish, and I entertain them by raising my eyebrows, rolling my tongue and whistling into my hands. Their amazement makes me feel less useless for being unable to roll my Rs. Being called "Señorita Lucy" is quite nice too.

The afternoons are much more exhausting. I basically help the full time member of staff, Señorita Magdelena, supervise about 22 kids ranging from 6 to 12 with their lunch and showertime, then help them with their homework in class. I'm not so fond of Magdelena. She treats me rather like one of the other kids that she has to deal with, and speaks to fast for me to understand. I feel like I'm in school again having things yelled at me that I don't understand. She doesn't seem to have much pacience for the kids, and shouts angrily at them a lot. She's lumped me at the back of the (riciculously huge) classroom with the 3 naughtiest kids, and I have to make sure they finish their homework by hometime at about 5.

Vanessa isn't that bad, she is quite conscientious and clever and would work on her own. But she plays up when the other 2 start. And basically they never stop. Lucero is infuriating. She can be quite quiet and keep herself to herself, but she has the attention span of a goldfish with ADD. She just stares into space after writing one letter (they've got handwriting practice), and then counts how many more pages she has left to fill. Giancarlos is undoubtedly the most monstrous child I know. He is unbelievably insolent, I'm actually glad I can't understand all the bad words he uses to talk back at me. He continuously fights with the other kids around him, breaks the leads of his pencils, steals and hides others' stationary and tries to piss me off. I'm still struggling with commands to tell them to behave, sit down and do their work or their parents will get mad, but even when I do say it right they ignore me. Aaaah!

Sometimes I'm told to dictate to the kids who don't have homework at the same time as supervising the terrorsome three, which is just impossible. They seek attention all the time! What makes it worse is that the kids' abilities are so different. Even of those that are in the same grade at school, some can spell and write quite long words whilst others can barely read the most basic of words. The less able kids just copy off the more advanced ones, understanding nothing. They all plead "enseñame", or "ayudame" (teach me, help me), but when I try to help the ones that don't get it, the others get bored and start fighting. There are a few really cute good kids. Juan is 10 I think, one of the interns, is very studious and wants to be an engineer when he grows up. He always finishes his homework, and comes to me to learn some more! Unlike the other kids, who just wrap themselves round me and smother me in kisses when they're feeling affectionate, he's quite shy and just comes to sit next to me. A couple of the kids have picked up on some English words and repeat them in high pitched voices playfully when I'm around. "Okaaaaay, hello!" They all want their names translating into English...

What's sad is that a few of the kids, I've just discovered, are way behind in their understanding compared to the progress of the other kids in their grades at school. One girl today asked me to help her with addition and subtraction of two-digit numbers, but when I tried to help her I realised that she doesn't even recognise the written form of numbers greater than 10. It turns out that there are a few kids like this, whose schoolteachers seem to neglect them, or fail to realise how behind they are. A Peruvean volunteer and I are trying to help them catch up, by 5 in the afternoon, after having been at school since 8am, the kids are in no mood to learn any more. I've got a challenge now though, so I hope I can figure something out for them. Explaining language and numbers is difficult enough in English though, how am I going to cope with my feeble Spanish?

To be honest, life in Trujillo is pretty boring. I'm living with and being fed by a host family again, who are really nice. They are Monica and Jaime, in their late 30s, and their 2 children Karen, 12, and Valeria, 6. The girls are lovely. Valeria has some kidney problem, she had an operation when she was younger and has to take pills every day and see the specialist in Lima every so often. I think it may be to pay for her treatment that the family takes volunteers. Jaime is one of 11 brothers and sisters! He originally comes from somewhere in the jungle, his pictures are cool. He also has an incredibly attractive (and tall for Peruvian standards, which means just about bigger than me) brother of 22, who is sometimes around when he's not army training back in the jungle. Monica's parents live in the same block too. It's huge - and they're building more. Right outside my window, and they start at 7am every morning! Nicky and I have the 2nd floor apartment to ourselves, which is nice. It's basic though, a radio but no TV, so we have to amuse ourselves. Nicky is lovely. She's 24 and from Bournemouth, and when not in Peru works in a psychiatric hospital. So she's got loads of fascinating stories about the patients. She's been here a week more than me. When she arrived she knew no Spanish whatsoever, whilst the family know next to no English, so she's been having lessons every day too. It's still very basic. She must have been so bored before me, and dinner table conversations must have been dire! Unfortunately she's not mad keen on practicing Spanish either, so I'm having to speak English way more than I should be to keep improving my Spanish. I might try helping teach her but I don't want to appear patronising!

Trujillo itself isn't that exciting. Way too much traffic (about 80% of them delapidated taxis), lots of people, plenty of street children selling sweets, and heaps of tour companies wanting business. I'm not a huge fan of cities, I'm getting a bit bored of it. There's a nice central plaza, and the food is wonderfully cheap (you can get a 3 course lunch for about 75p), but that's about it. I've been out running a few times, but have resigned myself to morning laps round a piddly little park about 5 minutes from the house, because I'm getting sick of the leery men who feel obliged to hiss or make some comment whenever us Gringas pass. Being a gringo isn't always great. I think the bar we went to on Saturday saw us as a great opportunity to get rid of their fake banknotes they'd not been careful enough to check. It worked, now I have a souvenir of Peru's false currency. It's a pretty good imitation, but the paper's starting to split, so I don't think anyone would be stupid enough for us to fob it off on.

But there are a few really cool places to see around about. There's a good beach a 25p bus ride away, which is more touristy with surfers and bars and souvenir shops. It's famous for the fisherman and their long thin canoes made of straw, which are pretty cool. There are 2 important pre-Copnquest archaeological sites close by too. Chan Chan is a huge ancient city, whose remains even today are quite impressive, though most of it has been eroded by weather, man and time, and is being reclaimed by the the desert. Without considerable reconstruction it's hard to envisage what it might have been like. More interesting, I think, is the smaller site of Huaca de la Luna y el Sol (the Moon and the Sun). They are two large pyramids, in the grounds of a now ruined city, that are still being excavated. They were religious and ceremonial sites of the Moche people, where sacrifices to the gods were made in the hope of a good harvest, for example. Thanks to the nature of their construction (every 100 years or so the Moche people conmpletely filled up the current layer of their pyramid and constructed a new temple on top) with lots of painstaking work it has been possible to unearth the original full-scale internal walls within the pyramids, and the genuine colourful murals with which they were decorated. So you can more easily imagine how things might have been.

That was last weekend. This weekend I really want to get out of the city and into the mountains, but Nicky's not a big exercise person so I'm not sure she'll be keen on hiking. I'd like to go to Cajamarca, the site where the Spanish Conquistadors met with the last king of the Incas, Atahualpa, and betrayed and then murdered him, before massacring his people. South American history is pretty violent, it helps to put the naughtiness of the kids into perspective.

Uh-oh?

Well, I did feel safe, until last night 4 British guys got back to the hostal after being mugged by 3 guys with guns on the same beach on which I'd been out running a few hours earlier. They've lost their passports, wallets, driving licences, flight tickets, everything. Although to be honest they should have read their guidebooks, which always say not to take anything with you to the beach, and not to visit at all at night.

I'm also starting to notice in loads of buildings signs that say "Zona Seguro en Casos de Sismos" (secure zones in case of earthquakes).

It'll be fine!

Being a Backpacker in Lima

Lima is huge compared to Quito. With over 8 million residents, and on the coast not far south of the equator, it's hot and busy. Feels really different from fresher Quito, high up in the mountains.

I had a bit of an adventure when I arrived in the city. I'd found a hostel I wanted to try from the Lonely Planet, in an area of Lima recommended by Carlos, but the phone number wouldn't work from Quito. When I arrived in the taxi at midnight at the address, it turned out the hostal no longer exists any more. So I had to again refuse the hotel suggested rather persistently by the taxi driver, and find the next one on the list. The Barranco Backpackers is ok. I guess it's kind of cliched. It's run by a Spanish woman and her two daughters who help out, and owned by an expat Londener. He's a character: tall, skinny, and fidgety, and always seems to know someone who knows someone who can help if you have a query. Despite living here for 15 years he still has only very basic Spanish with a strong Cockney accent. But he's really friendly, and there are plenty of fellow travellers to stop me getting bored. I've been wandering round Lima with an Australian guy called Chris. Not sure how old he is but he's at least 30, and because he's a little more than 6 feet tall gets cramp from sitting in the colectivos (minibus-style public transport) and at restaurant tables. Fortunately the beds in the hostal are the best he's found so far, he actually fits.

We've wandered around Miraflores, the posher touristy area of Lima. It's full of restaurants and bars and shops, lots of them American. It's home to the first Starbucks I've seen so far, as well as classy looking KFCs, MacDonalds and Burger Kind (with gold-coloured signs...). It seems, from when we were searching for a place to get lunch, that the prices increase in direct proportion to proximity to the centre of Miraflores. We took a street leading out from the main square, not being too keen on forking out 25 soles for lunch, and after walking past a series of 5 cafes whose prices decreased incrementally, settled for a 3 course lunch for 5 soles (about 60p). Bargain! And haven't been sick yet. There are very few indigenous people, everyone is (relatively) taller and tanned, and there are lots of gringos wandering round in board shorts, thongs and dreads. Mainly Aussies, I've not met too many so far. Maybe Carlos's stereotype is true - they don't stray far from the beaches. Though the beaches here aren't great, and apparently the sea is too dirty to swim in if you want to stay disease-free.

We went into 'downtown' Lima yesterday. First stop was el Museo de la Nación. As with all museums, all that standing around for hours is really tiring, but it was quite interesting. Though maybe not as much for Chris, whose level of Spanish (limited to greetings and cocktail names) didn't allow him to read any of the explanations next to the exhibits. There were a few translations into English at the start of each exhibit, but it seems like the translator got bored after the first few paragraphs and stopped. Or maybe the money ran out. After room after room of simplistically sculpted and painted ceramics, I got pretty bored, so we sped up to get to the Incas. It was good to get a sense of the history of the people of Peru though, it will put the ruins I visit in context. There was a special display organised in association with the Truth and Reconciliation Committee of Peru displaying photos and memories from the decades of terrorism in the country between 1980 and 2000, the most infamous and important of which was initiated by the Maoist movement Sendero Luminoso, or Shining Path. Hundreds of thousands were killed and many fled the highlands to the cities or other countries. The pictures were pretty harrowing and gruesome. It was interesting to see. Then we wandered round the centre of Lima. There are some impressive old buildings round the nicely kept main squares, and the Church of San Fransico (I think there's one in every South American city) was very elaborate. A glimpse down into the catacombs revealed a pile of human bones - bit gross! Outside of the immediate centre, things are a little less aesthetically pleasing. The river through the north of the city runs a murky brown (definitely don't want to swim in the sea if that's where the water comes from), and the pavements seem in need of renovation. But pretty tidy and neat compared to African capitals, I would say. The same machine-gun toting military men wandering around though, even a few big tanks sitting in the middle of the city. I assume it's all for show. Most of them were falling asleep on duty or fiddling with their mobiles and MP3s.

It's definitely different to my impression of Quito. I miss it. It was good to get to know the city. At the weekend, I had a bit more of a chance to wander around Gringolandia and the old town, as well as revisit the school and my host family in the north. I'll definitely miss the people. After a nice final supper with my tour group (good old Magic Bean again), when we had to say our final goodbye to Carlos, who'd been fantastic, I caught up with Karen, AnaSofie and Rebecca for a night out. It was soo good to see them again. We got drunk on Cuba Libras and Mojitos and danced the night away in the sweaty bar they always go to. I practiced my Spanish with a few of the local guys. The following day I met up with Sam, a guy from the school, on Sunday in the old town, and we visited the Basilica (biggest church in the city) and had lunch in the central plaza. I caught up with an Ecuadorean guy I'd been in contact with for a while in the afternoon. I wish I'd had more time to see more of him, but sadly not. Had dinner with the remainder of the tour group, and met up with Brad a little later for a drink, since I'd missed him the first time I left. On Monday, I popped into the school to see some of the students and collect my glasses from Aldis (I'd left them in the hostel in Ambato). I hardly recognised anyone, lots of the students that were there when I was had left and been replaced by new ones. It was nice to see the ones I knew though. Then I returned to the flat of my host family for lunch. I'd told them I was going to be in Quito for a few days again, and they'd told me to get in touch when I returned, so I did and they invited me for lunch. I'd been feeling a little lost in Quito, not being part of the schoolgroup any more and with the tourgroup disbanding. When my real family and friends are so far away it felt great to have a subsitute family. Albarro had told me he had to leave for the jungle on Monday morning so I would miss him again, but it turned out that he postponed his departure so that he could see me for lunch! It was so lovely to see all them again. I hope we stay in touch. Finally, I packed my bags to leave. But after such a lovely lunch, and with Karen insisting on accompanying me to the airport, I didn't feel to lonely!

So these next few days I'm going to be cooped up in internet cafés trying to complete my bloody TEFL course before I leave for my volunteer placement on Sunday, and figuring out how to fit in a week or so in Columbia without having to cancel too much of the itinerary I'd got planned. I'm loving my trip so far but I am slightly regretting having planned it out so tightly. It could cost me a lot to fit this in. Or maybe I'll just have to stay out here a little longer... If anyone's on MSN during the next day or 2 maybe I'll catch you!

Rain in the Rainforest

I'm now in Otavalo, a nice town to the north of Quito. It's located in a lovely area of Ecuador, in a green valley between (you guessed it) several volcanos. We took a hike yesterday afternoon round the rim of one such volcano, that contains a beautiful large blue crater lake, with a couple of islands in the middle. The town itself basically functions as a giant tourist market, especially at the weekends. It's Saturday, the busiest day, and the streets are blocked by lines of market stalls selling ponchos, alpaca scarfs and clothing, jewellry of all colours and styles, Andean flutes, handbags, pirate music and DVDs and just about everything else you can think of. I'm trying to avoid spending more of my rapidly-diminishing cash on souvenirs that I'd have to lug around in my already bulging backpack for the next 5 months.

Rafting was really good fun. The company that took us rafting were a family originally from Ireland who moved over here about 14 years ago. They are a couple of about 50 and their 4 children, in their 20s. The boys work as rafting guides, the girls in the office and cooking the food. It's a great set-up, and they were very professional. The first day we rafted through the tropical forests near Tena, one of the biggest jungle towns in Ecuador. Because the water was a bit high, after the first serious rains in over a month (thanks to global warming, the rainy season doesn't see much rain any more), it was too dangerous to raft the normal river, so we had to take an alternative route. Half-way along there was a waterfall, way too rocky and rough to send the rafts down, so we had to get out and climb up the steep riverbank and around the side of the waterfall before continuing in the rafts. It was a bit scary, the guides had to set up ropes for us to steady ourselves with on the rocks. So we got a bit of rockclimbing and abseiling thrown in to the package. One girl fell and slit her elbow open, which was a little gruesome! But the rafting was great. Not quite as extreme as in Uganda: there were no flips. But I was quite glad of that. Instead we had fun pushing people off the rafts and ambushing other boats. One of the guys in our boat managed to pull one of the guides into the water, hehehe. He was pissed off though, because he lots his sunglasses. Oops!

The scenery was just breathtaking. It's hard to describe, but imagine a roaring river rushing between and over protruding rocks, flanked on either side by high rocky banks covered in dense, lush green vegetation. In the distance, you can see the jungle spreading out over hills and mountains, with clouds so low they look like giant cobwebs in the valleys that need sweeping away. The diversity of the flora and fauna is incredible. No two trees or plants seemed the same. We saw giant bright blue butterflies, and smaller orange and yellow ones, as well as tiny birds of all colours. Climbing across the rocks, we spotted centipedes and caterpillars and giant ants. Naturally, we got bit by the mozzies and sandflies. Well, some of us did. Haha.

The second day we rafted a river higher up in the Andes, where the world rafting championships is often held. The scenery was different but just as stunning. On Thursday we headed to Papallacta, a little town with hot springs in the cloud forest. I'm not good at relaxing, so I got a bit bored whilst the others were pampering themselves in the hot spa pools and paying stupid money for a massage. I took a hike up into the mountains nearby, which was really cool - I saw waterfalls and plunge pools and loads of flowers. However I also came across, along a deserted track, at least 5 skeletons of horses, in varying states of decomposition and consumption, some so fresh that the colours of the coats were still distinguishable. That was a bit gruesome. When I got back to the town I asked the guy in the Tourist Information centre about them, and he said the bears had eaten them. Which was puzzling, since the information on the display boards said that the bears here are vegetarian... I wasn't sure whether he was suggesting that the bears catch and kill the horses themselves, or whether dead horses were taken up there and dumped for the bears to eat, or maybe whether the horses had fallen from the cliffs above.

It's the last day of my tour today, we're heading back to Quito after lunch. It's been fantastic, I've seen and done so many things I'd never have been able to on my own, and I'm very glad I've done it. But I do miss being around people my age. It's not that I haven't got on really well with the rest of the group, I have, and it's been really interesting and fun to mix with people of such different ages and backgrounds. But it'll definitely be good to see some of the students from the Spanish school later tonight and tomorrow. It'll be great to catch up. And then on Monday I leave for Peru....!

High Altitude Adventures

My tour has certainly lived up to its description so far. It said it was "active", and active it has been! In true South American style, we began the tour with a bit of excitement when our public bus to Cotopaxi was stopped and searched by about 12 armed policemen. Apparently they'd recieved information that there might have been an armed and dangerous man on our bus. Fortunately, it seemed to be incorrect and we were allowed to continue. The Canadians and yanks in the group were a little perturbed!

First up was two days of mountain biking. Having never actually been mountain biking before, this was a pretty extreme introduction! Day one began at the car park of the refuge from which we had begun our climb attempt a few weeks before. Only this time we were going DOWN the mountain side, and it's bloody steep! My fear of heights, and sharp rocky/sandy corners at high speed, returned and I soon got sore hands from over-using my breaks! But having effectively been training at altitude for about a month meant that I easily overtook the others on the uphills. The next day we took a route in the province of Chimborazo, the highest mountain in Ecuador at over 6000m. The tracks were even steeper, rockier and narrower - my hands were in agony! I was glad of the oxygen-sapping uphills to give my hands a break! It was great fun though. Our mountain biking guide, Edison, was a really interesting guy too. Also a vegetarian, I walmed to him instantly! With his athletic physique, long flowing dark hair and beautifully intense eyes, he could have walked right out of a movie about the Amazon - or the native American Indians, I'm not sure which - as the wise and benevolent indigenous hero. Wish we could have had more than 2 days with him!

In comparison to the almost jurassic scenery of the Cotopaxi National Park, the countryside in Chimborazo is just beautiful - rolling hills covered in a patchwork of fields, small woods, and babbling streams, with sheep, cattle and horses everywhere. Chimborazo has the highest percentage of indigenous people, and along every road we cycled we passed classic examples of the people of the Andes. I hadn't really believed that people really still dressed in bright green thick pleated skirts, thick blue stockings, purple ponchos and black pudding-shaped hats, but they really do. And how cute the little girls look in their miniature versions! They looked as they do in the postcards, with their pleated dark hair and red-flushed cheeks, often struggling up a hillside carrying a bale of guinea-pig feed.

Some of the group, having flown into Quito only a day or 2 earlier, really struggled with the altitude. Adrian, a Canadian in his mid-30s, had it the worst, despite seeming the most prepared one could possibly be for this trip. He'd been using altitude sickness medicine (as well as a special water filter, a padded saddle, padded cycling shorts, technical sports wear, a saddle bag...) yet even now, a week later, is still struggling to regain his appetite. But he's shown incredible determination (or maybe, given his diminuitive stature, the symptoms of short-man syndrome?) not to let it stop him from proving how strong and fit he is, and has insisted on fighting his way to the front of the group during the biking and hiking. Definitely a competitor! Most of the others have had a few headaches and coughs, as well as general fatigue, but are doing ok now.

In Chimborazo we stayed in a lower refuge of the Chimborazo volcano, the station house of a now barely used railway line built in the early 1900s by an Englishman. It's an amazing place, a little traditionally-decorated haven of coziness in a cold and bleak environment. Through the windows you just can't miss the snow-capped peak of the volcano, dominating the horizon. Yet inside the log fires and soft lighting make the retreat feel very homely. Outside, I got my first sighting of llamas and alpacas, loosesly tied up like sheep to graze in the grass in the station grounds. So cool! The station is run by the most amazing guy I think I've ever met. Rodrigo is about 50, and has only one and a half lungs after a football accident, but has more fitness, energy and dynamism than any 20-year old I've ever met. He never sits down for more than a minute, and every day goes hiking (if not running) in the mountains. He often climbs Chimborazo more than 2 times a week, ran a marathon a few months ago, and is hoping to go to the Himalayas in the summer. He knows everything there is to know about his local area, and about all of Ecuador for that matter, and has the most fascinating stories - of finding the remains of a passenger plane that had crashed in the glacier of the volcano 23 years earlier, of losing tourists to the various mountains of South America, of an expedition of Belgian doctors conducting a trial of Viagra at altitude... Just an incredible guy.

He was our guide for a little hike up to the glaciers of Chimborazo (I say little, but it proved too much for Adrian, despite his best efforts), as well as for our 3-day trek along the Inca trail to a site of Inca ruins called Ingapirca. It's Ecuador's answer to the Inca trail in Peru and Macchu Pichu. But the best thing about this trek was that we had it entirely to ourselves, with the exception of a smattering of indigenous people and their donkeys we passed along the way. The scenery was just incredible. In fact the road to the starting point was enough to give us all white knuckles. It traversed, with the sharpest of corners, the steepest of mountainsides, affording views not altogether welcome of a deep green pasture-covered valley beneath. It really was spectacular. Our hiking territory was as beautiful. We often followed the path of a river, crossing over stones and waterfalls, bridges and passes. We saw butterflies, hummingbirds, falcons and an incredible array of wild flowers and orchids - all of which Rodrigo could name and describe, naturally. I got to practise my Spanish with the guides a little too. It was hard going at times, but easy by Cotopaxi standards. Not for the unaccalimatised, though, some of whom found it very tough. It was well worth it though, and the Inca site at the end of our long trek was really interesting. The camping was less fun. Although, with the strong ecuatorial sun, the days were warm despite the altitude, the nights were definitely not. Even with 2 sleeping bags, and three girls to one tent, I was too cold to get more than a few minutes sleep at a time in either of the two nights. Plus, despite the remoteness of our camps, whether for the chattering of our little pack of donkeys or from the howling wind, it was anything but quiet. It's amazing what they can rustle up for dinner without a kitchen though; the soups were perfect, especially when chilled to the bone!

I'm now in Baños, a charming town nestled in the mountains a little closer to the Amazon bason. We're at about 1,800m here, so breathing is a lot easier! The stairs up to my (unbelievably luxurious... at least by camping standards) hotel room are a doddle, even with my great big backpack! I really want to try and run a marathon or something now, because after all this exercise at 4000m plus, I must be super-fit at sea level! Sadly, it's raining here, but I think that's typical of the cloud forest. Still, it doesn't really matter for the most common leisure activities here - visiting the hot spring baths! Sunday, it seems, is the day when half of Ecuador descends on the hot spring baths of Baños, so at our guide Carlos's recommendation, we went to the thermal spa instead. For $3, I was treated to a bizarre "therapeutic" process. I was shut in a little box of hot steam infused with a sprig of Eucalyptus(with only my head out of the box) for 20 minutes or so, released briefly to be doused with freezing cold water, only to be returned to the steamy inferno for another session. This was repeated for an hour or so, before I was hosed down with more freezing cold water. The guy in charge of the cold water seemed to take great pleasure in making the women scream! After all that sweating, I was pretty dehydrated afterwards, but I felt so relaxed I just wanted a siesta, so it must have worked!

We've got until tomorrow afternoon in Baños. Maybe the hot springs will be less busy tomorrow morning. Though, glutton for punishment, I kind of want to go hiking tomorrow. I also need to replace that jumper I lost last Tuesday night... Tomorrow afternoon, we leave for Tena, a jungle town where we begin our 3 days of rafting on Tuesday morning. It's going to be a pretty sharp contrast to move from the cold, bleak, oxygen deprived heights of 4,000m to the stifling humidity and dense vegetation of the Amazon at less than 1,000m. Not really relishing the prospect of all those mosquitoes and other creepy crawlies...!

Tonight, we're finally getting a night out. We'll be a strange group. There's: Peter, the retired English chemistry professor who studied at Cambridge but has lived most of his life in Canada; Neville, the crazy socialist grandfather from Colorado; 6-feet tall Lisa, a 42 year old boy-scout from Toronto; Tamara, a lovely athletic 29-year old German Swiss; 33 year old Yanna from Denmark (yep, another Dane) who works on a Scandinavian cruise ship; Adrian, the small Canadian dude; and Ki (33, car insurance) and Kati (25, medical student), avid mountain-bikers from Germany on their pre-wedding honeymoon since they can't take the time off after their wedding in May. Add some beer, or 80% proof local sugar cane liquor, and it should be an interesting night...

Carnaval! Goodbye to Good Friends, and Hello to Adventures New

If Carnaval in Ecuador is tame, I'm almost glad I wasn't in Rio!

Ambato was really fun. I was totally knackered, since I managed to grab only 2 hours sleep on Friday night before getting up at some stupid hour to get the bus in the morning. Despite advertising that every room had a private bathroom and TV, our hostel rooms were about as basic as they came. Marilyn, Aldis and I had to share a double bed, and the only bathroom on our floor was disgusting. Still, it did the job I guess.

On Saturday, the 8 of us (Brad, Guido and three newer girls came too) went for a typical 2-course Ecuadorean lunch for $2 each, and wandered round the town, gawping at the quantity of people in the little town. There was lots going on. Brad really wanted to go see a real bull-fight, so he, Guido and the other girls went along to that whilst squeamish Marilyn, Aldis and I opted out. Instead, for some odd reason, we were persuaded by some girl from the tourist information team to go and visit a bull "show" in a suburb of the town, so we hopped in a taxi (actually it was a lot more difficult than that, with so many people wanting taxis, but it just sounded good).

The place felt miles away from the bustling, modern, touristic centre of Ambato. It was more like a quaint rural village, with a really ramshackle bull ring! The specatator stands, if you can call them that, were being erected by the locals when we arrived, and the van carrying the bulls was just pulling up. The locals were so friendly, it was if they felt honoured to have us there. We were the only tourists around. I really wasn't very confident about the stability of these homemade stands, but we settled down to watch, made welcome by one of the local men who was very keen to explain everything that was happening. It actually wasn't too bad, they seemed to respect the animals and although they did taunt them with their wafting of the capes none of the bulls got hurt. Marilyn and Aldis were even persuaded to have a go in the ring with a female cow! I watched from the dubious security of the stands. Someone had to take the photos, right?!

That night we rejoined the others for dinner. The girls were still pretty shaken up after having to watch several bulls fight to the death. (We made the right choice.) We wandered the town for a while soaking up the atmosphere and getting lost in the crowds. Brad had some friends of his host family that he'd promised to meet up with, so the same group went to some club to meet them. Marilyn, Aldis and I opted to stay with the throngs of Ecuadoreans in the streets. There were hot air balloons (most of which got caught in streetlights and set themselves alight, falling back into the streets ablaze), lots of alcohol, exciting food and crazy crowds squirting lots of carioca. Think a mixture of silly string and hair mousse, and you've got it. After getting absolutely covered by the stuff, we decided it was time to get our own back, so we invested in a few cans. The war began. Such fun! Why don't we have Carnaval?

The next morning there was a procession in the streets, so we had to get up early AGAIN. It was really fun, with lots of interesting and colourful floats, and streams of dancing, singing and instrument-playing locals in colourful costumes. But it was sooo long. I would have fallen asleep had the floor not been so damn uncomfortable to sit on for 5 hours. The rest of the day was spent wandering around and eating lots of ice-cream and cakes, the only way I could discover of staying awake, since there are no coffee shops. Finally, I had to return to Quito in preparation for my tour.

The journey was long and uncomfortable. I managed to hop on a full bus just before it left, so I had to sit in the space reserved for the bus conductor, as did a mother and her 3 small children, who decided that I made a great pillow. But I was so tired that I missed my stop, ended up right in the south of Quito, and had to pay $13 for the taxi to my hotel. Oops. I have also discovered that, somewhere in the journey, I lost my camera. Sooooooo disappointed. I would say that I had it stolen, but I think the likelihood is that it fell out of my bag. Dammit, I was doing so well!

That night and the next morning I met my tour group. I was very excited at the prospect of meeting a bunch of sporty young things, (like me!?) particularly some fit sporty men. I was even a little concerned that they'd be annoying know-it-all pre-uni gappers. So I was disappointed that I was the youngest by a long way. Two of the men are at least 60 and retired! Oh well. In fairness, after getting to know them a bit, they're all good fun and really interesting. Some real characters, not least Neville, a US-hating, factiod-spouting, ponytail-sporting 65 (?) year old yank with the worst-attempted Spanish you've ever heard! Hope I'm not that bad!

Mountain biking first, eek!

Beer Pong, Football and the Women's Prison

Had to say goodbye to everyone at the Academy this weekend. It was really sad, I've had such a good time there and I'm not sure I'll meet such good friends again. But not too sad, because I've got so so much to look forward to, and at the moment I'm definitely a traveller at heart - have to keep moving!

The last week was really fun. The night of beer pong was crazy - we got through a lot of beer and a lot of pong, thanks to Brad's military rule. Obviously, we had to go out afterwards. Jared bought several fishbowls, which were about 3 times the size of the ones I've encountered before. We went to a very gringo bar, and danced very gringo (Marilyn would have been ashamed, but fortunately she wasn't there to endure the spectacle). We even played the ice game. Shameful! I really didn't think I was that drunk, but I realised when I got out of the taxi that walking was a real challenge. I found my scarf halfway up the stairs to my apartment the next day, and I never did find my sweater. Good night! Needless to say, I didn't make it into the school the next morning. I missed the little exchange of paper hearts that had been organised for Valentine's Day - and I even had a Valentine, after Jared asked me to be his Valentine the day before. Whatever that means, exactly, I'm not too sure. Yep, it's stupidly commercialised over here too!

I dragged myself, hungover, into school for 2pm for the visit to La Carcel de Mujeres (the women's prison). I am very glad I did. It was truly bizarre. I've never visited a prison in England, but I'm sure it they're nothing like this one. In the main area of the prison, inmates and visitors mingled together in a crazy mele. As in the central city streets, people wandered round selling plastic roses, sweets and drinks. There were telefone cabins and vending machines. People were chatting and laughing. Children played. After people-watching in awe for a while, we were eventually introduced to the lady who would tell us something of life in the prison from a westerner's point of view. Zoe Savage was a journalist with the BBC coming to Ecuador to make a documentary, 4 years ago to the day, when she was arrested and ultimately sentenced to 8 years behind bars. She claims that 2 cameramen from her team, contracted by the BBC, had asked her to carry something through customs, and when the bags were checked they disappeared. I believe her story. She seems genuine. She tries to put on a brave and cheerful face, and suggests that life isn't so bad in the prison. It's true that her cell, although cramped (she shares a tiny room, smaller than the worst university room, with 2 or 3 other women), did seem almost homely, with fairy lights, photos and various trinkets and drapes. Yet she explained that, as a prisoner, unless you have a steady stream of income from family or friends you cannot afford niceties such as we saw. Such cells as hers require rent. If you can't afford it, you are thrown into the most basic of cells, which even in her words are "not nice". Zoe then went on to say that she barely gets to see any of her friends and family. Her two children still believe that she is away working. For 4 years! The British Embassy, it seems, can't do anything for her. Oprah Winfrey has heard of her case, apparently, and sends her a little money. It became clear, as she fought back tears, that every day is a struggle for her. One of the girls in our group (some wierdo Brummy hippy, it has to be said), was pretty inconsolable.

On a brighter note, that evening I went with Marilyn, Jared, Brad, Sam and another girl I hadn't met before to a football match at one of the Quito stadiums. We got a bit confused about what stadium it was at, so we missed the first 30 minutes, but for $8 it didn't matter too much! It was great fun. One end of the stand was full of the supporters of both teams, the home team on the ground level and the away team above. They were drinking, dancing, singing and setting off fireworks inside the stand all night long; I wish we had been in that bit! It was a little odd to see 20 foot high fencing separating the pitch from the stands, and also to see a little golf buggy driven onto the pitch to collect injured players (what's wrong with a good old stretcher?). But the football was pretty good. Hadn't been to a game in ages! Less aggressive and definitely more beautifully played than in England.

I went out Thursday and Friday nights too, to spend my last nights with friends from the school who were going to the beach at the weekend for Carnaval. Friday was my last night with my host family, as well as being my last night in Quito. We'd arranged with some of the guys at the school to watch "Robin Hood, Man in Tights" before going out. I'd been wanting to watch it for ages and I think the other guys were looking forward to the prospect of taking the piss out of the English in the presence of an English girl. But my host family had arranged a special dinner for my last night, and Belen didn't get home till 8.30, so the plans didn't quite work out. My "special meal" turned out to be a quiche, which would have been lovely, but for the fact that Mercedes had been unable to find a vegetarian quiche. So I forced myself to eat a mediocre slab of ham and cheese quiche and pretend to be unbelievably grateful. It was a nice gesture! I'd got them flowers and chocolates, and they'd got me a lovely red bracelet. I will miss them! Especially Mercedes' food!

Had a few options this weekend. I could potentially have popped across to Columbia to visit a friend, Carlos, who I met when travelling in Africa. I could have gone to the beach, where a load of the students from the school are heading. I could have stuck around Quito and taken in the sights that I've not yet seen. But instead I'm going to Ambato, which apparently is one of the best and most traditional towns during Carnaval. We're leaving tomorrow morning at some ridiculously early hour. I have to be back for Sunday night to check in to a hotel for the start of my two-week tour of Ecuador, so I didn't really have enough time to make the beach or Columbia. After talking to Carlos I think I'm gonna spend a week in Columbia later. Yay!

Cotopaxi!!

I finally managed to attempt Cotopaxi this weekend! It was a hastily arranged trip. Marilyn talked to the company on Thursday afternoon, on Friday afternoon we went to get kitted out with all our stuff (crampons, boots, fleeces and waterproofs, ice-picks, sun-goggles, head torches...), and we left early on Saturday morning.

I swear the hardest part of the whole adventure was the hour-long hike to the refuge, which looked about 10 minutes up from the car park. I thought I was going to die, and that I should just turn round and go back there and then! The guides were shaking their heads at the sight of us struggling at the first piddly little hurdle. Although, in my defense, I had brought a ridiculously heavy load in my giant rucksack. I wanted to make sure that being too cold didn't stop me getting to the top, as it had on Kilimanjaro, so I'd brought so many clothes it was stupid. Plus the refuge is at an altitude of about 4,700m, which seriously limits your physical capabilities. After stowing some of our stuff in the lockers, and getting kitted out in our cold-weather gear, we hiked up to the glacier to practice climbing with our crampons and ice-picks, in preparation for the night ascent. The main climb starts in the middle of the night, with the intention of reaching the summit just after dawn, because when the sun rises, the ice melts and it becomes dangerous. So after dinner (which no-one ate much of due to the appetite-supressant effects of altitude), we were despatched to bed at about 7pm. I felt ready for it! However, the refuge was like a giant dormitory, with loads of iron bunks and no soft furnishing to absorb the sounds of people snoring, coughing, and getting up every 20 minutes to put their heavy snow boots on and go to the toilet. Plus I had a banging headache and felt a little queasy. So I got absolutely no sleep before the guides told us it was time to get up at midnight. It took us ages to actually leave the refuge, we took ages over breakfast (can you still call it breakfast if you eat at 12.30am??!!) and we took it in turns to try and persuade Brad (26 year old guy in the US army who's served in Iraq and such places) to try and come with us. But he was too ill; he had a huge headache and felt really sick.

We climbed tied together in teams of 3. I was with Jared (23 year old US "soccer" player) and our solely-Spanish-speaking guide Gustavo. It was bloody difficult. With the exception of the snow, crampons and ice-picks, it was pretty similar to Kili. At the beginning it wasn't too bad, but there was no respite from the steep ice-covered mountainsides and the ferocious, snow-laden winds. Once more, it was a matter of determination and mind over body. We didn't too too badly; we were one of the last groups to leave and we passed a fair few teams. A lot of climbers succombed to the effects of alitude or the difficulty of the task and turned back. We passed Marilyn and her fellow hiker, Martin (a really cool German cameraman, about 30) on their way down, after Marily felt too ill to continue. Our guide kept telling us that we were only 30 minutes from a sheltered place where we could have tea and chocolate, but he was definately lying! We finally got to a slightly less exposed place in a kind of ice-cave, and collapsed there for a while. I just wanted to go to sleep! We tried to keep warm by huddling, but I lost all feeling in my fingers after taking my gloves off to try and open my energy drink, which didn't work anyway. My Camelpack had frozen in the tube. A few minutes after we'd sat down, at about 6am, the complete darkness of the night was becoming less complete. Dawn was on the way. This meant two things: first, that it might get a bit warmer and more pleasant (yay), but second, that we had very little time to try for the summit (uh-oh). Jared clearly had enough in the tank to keep going, but I wasn't sure I did. We decided to go for it, and the first hurdle was a scramble up a really steep and horribly exposed section of the mountain. It was a hurdle too high for me. The wind was vicious, and hurled hard-frozen snow into our faces, making it impossible to see or breathe. My calves burned with every step. Being able to see the deep crevasses, blue beneath the surface, made me panic. When the guide told us that it was another two and a half hours to the top, two and a half hours which we didn't have, I decided that I'd done enough. With retrospect, I feel guilty because I think Jared could have made it. I offered to join another group going down and let him continue, but he said he was happy to come down.

When we returned to our semi-sheltered resting spot, dawn was breaking. It was amazing, and even though we didn't make it it was worth the climb to be there at that moment. Now, rather than only being able to make out, in the beam of our torches, the bit of snow immediately ahead of where we walked, we were gradually able to see the magical environment we had climbed into. An expanse of perfect whiteness loomed above and below us, and beautiful ice formations surrounded us. In the brief moments when the clouds cleared a little, we were treated to incredible views of the sierra stretching out beneath us, and we saw for the first time just how steep and scary was Cotopaxi. I took a fair few photos; it was too fantastic to think about how cold my fingers would get. I'm glad I did, because when we returned to the edge of the snow-cap, the clouds had engulfed the mountain again. The descent was like walking down a black diamond ski run, but with Jared leading carefully, with the aid of crampons and the ice-pick, and with the rope to secure us together, I wasn't too petrified. It took forever to get down though. We got back to the refuge at about 9.

The rest was pretty boring - we had a bit of food, met up with Brad and Marilyn, packed up our stuff and hiked back down the mountain to take our minibus back to Quito. Had a bit of lunch (in a very gringo Mongolian cafe), said goodbye to Martin, and went home for a much-needed shower. I was knackered. Still am - 10 hours of sleep isn't enough to recover from missing a whole night's sleep and climbing for 8 hours up a snow-capped mountain. I also have another cold, which maybe isn't too suprising after my weekend.

That was really the highlight of my week. I've been out a few times, played some "fuzball" at a bar with the worst table in the world ever, had a salsa class, and generally tried to improve my Spanish. It's definitely coming on! I've now got the future tenses, most of the past tenses, and some wierdo tense called the subjunctivo, as well as lots more of the little gramatical details. It's quite exciting! Other that that, erm... no mucho! One of the taxi's I took home one night was stopped by the police for an illegal u-turn, and the policeman took his licence. I had no idea what to do, but figured it was best to get out quick and find another taxi! Saw a fat old lady wearing an English hoodie with the word "HOTTIE" emblazoned across her chest. As I said, English isn't that widely understood over here. Have experienced some classic "carnaval" fun when I had a balloon of water thrown at me from a passing car.

This is my last week at the school, weird! Jared's been here since early January and has 3 months more or so, but said yesterday lunch time that he's really going to miss Marilyn and I. Which made me realise how much I'm going to miss my fellow students and host family. I never really factored in the fact that I wouldn't just be meeting people but actually making friends whilst I studied here. But a week is a long time! Jared has the DVD "Robin Hood, Man in Tights", which he's insisting on showing me before I leave. Brad and Jared have taken great delight in mocking me for my Englishness (something I never really thought about before), and apparently this movie is similar! I can't believe I'm the only Brit here. Getting ready for a game of beer pong later! Yay!

Mission Aborted

Well Dad, at least you'll be happy to learn that I didn't end up doing Cotopaxi this weekend. Though maybe the reason why isn't so reassuring!

Most of the group planning to climb Cotopaxi did an acclimatisation hike on Thursday afternoon on the volcano I climbed last weekend. My extra afternoon lessons meant that geeky me had to miss out. There were about 6 of them, but they got tired at different stages (or developed blisters, if you believe them) so they split up. Two of them (Sam and another American called Mary), it turned out, were robbed by a lone freak with a machete. From what I understand, but it's patchy and I forget exactly, they were separated, tied up, taken further up the mountain and robbed of everything they had - except their credit cards. I don't think he did them any physical harm, and they managed to get back okay in the end. But on Friday morning, when we met to depart for Cotopaxi, we didn't know what state they were in - all we'd heard, from the incredibly anxious director of the school, was that Mary was at her house and Sam had been found in a park on the other side of Quito really early in the morning by the police.

I thought I'd had a scary night - I went running into the posh housing estate in the north of the city, which I figured should be safe. But it seems that wealthy people have really aggressive dogs, and I ended up being chased by a pack of about 8 of them all barking at me all the way down the street. It was terrifying! And I thought it was just the men I had to be scared of in Ecuador! Anyway, hearing about what happened to Mary and Sam kind of put it into perspective. Meeting at breakfast, we were all really shaken up. I think the three others were feeling guilty for splitting up on the volcano - one of the girls was especially upset because she'd seen a guy hanging round suspiciously on the mountain and hadn't thought too much of it at the time. We weren't really in the right frame of mind to do the climb. Fortunately the company were great about it, and we promised that if we wanted to do it another time we'd use them. A few of us are hoping to do it in a fortnight or so.

People are, or a least were, really panicky at the school. Another one of the students was robbed twice this week, and one time she was floored in broad daylight. And there are riots going on in the centre of Quito about the political situation. It's a little scary I guess, but to be honest, although I'm definitely going to be more careful from now on (like by always using taxis at night, trying to do things in groups, and avoiding dangerous situations) I'm not going to let it stop me doing things. I don't think Quito's any more dangerous than normal, there has just been a spate of random incidents lately. In particular, everyone has said how safe the mountain usually is. I suppose Thursday night is a quiet time. I went up the volcano yesterday with Marlilyn again and there were loads of tourists so I felt totally safe. On a slightly more optimistic note, it was so much easier the second time. I was still wary of the steep bits but not petrified like last time, and I could feel that I was more acclimatised or fitter this time - we were much faster. I really do want to try Cotopaxi.

Once I heard that Sam and Mary were okay, I could enjoy the weekend. I bought a phone on Friday, and if anyone wants to send me a text or anything any time my number is 00 593 88571196. I feel a little more connected with people now. On Friday night one of the Danish girls was leaving, so the Danes cooked a Danish meal at the hostel in the school. It was great fun, we even had an exciting blackout for 10 minutes or so. Afterwards me, Marilyn and a guy called Brad (who was also part of the Cotopaxi group) went out to a salsa bar, mainly so Marilyn could practice her moves. Brad got lucky and attracted the advances of a 47 year old male tourist. Shame he's not gay. Apparently if a guy talks to another guy in a club in English, it's a sign they're gay. He knows this now! I practiced my Spanish chatting to some of the locals.

Yesterday, whilst I was out hiking, I acquired a new housemate. Alex is 28, pale-skinned, and Dutch, and arrived at 9 in the morning. By the evening he was as red as a lobster, underestimating the strenght of the sun at the ecuator. I invited him to come out with loads of the students last night. We went to a salsa party we heard about from the dance teacher at the school, held to raise money for a guy who broke his leg really badly and needs an operation. It was really fun, but the standard of dancing was way too high for me to risk embarrassing myself, so I just sat and chatted. There were a few performances too, which were very impressive. Really wish I knew some good moves! Alex is really nice, but I'm not going to get to speak as much Spanish at home since he's dependent on English at the moment. I'm not special any more! This morning we said goodbye to Alvaro, who left to go out into the jungle again. I'll miss him, he's been great to me and is really good fun. Hopefully he'll be back before I leave, but I don't know.

I'm at a bit of a loose end today. Some of the girls have gone to a little place with hot springs, but I wanted to say goodbye to Alvaro, spend some time on the internet, and study my verbs! I figure I've got six months over here, I should concentrate on learning the language first since I've got plenty of time to visit exciting places. I walked past the park, full of people being sporty, so I'll probably do some running myself later. It's the Superbowl later, is that American football? Most of the Americans are going to Gringolandia later to watch it. I'm not overly excited by the prospect, but maybe it'll be better than nothing. I shall see!

New Heights?

I know the name of the maid! Mercedes. I'd heard Pilar say it before, but assumed she was talking about the car. I feel a lot better knowing the name of the person I spend every breakfast and dinner time chatting to. And chat we do. She still speaks too fast for me to understand everything, but it's much better, and I can talk to her back. I tell her all the stories from the school, and what I get up to, and we can even have a joke! Pilar, Belen and Alvaro (the cool son whose name I didn't know before either) seem quite impressed by my Spanish, but then going to anything from nothing is definitely progress.

I had SUCH a good weekend. Friday night out in "Gringolandia" was so much fun. We started off in a bar with loads of pool, ping-pong and table football tables. The music was a bit too English/American, but pool was great. I potted the black to bring victory for our team and beat a couple of guys, of which I was quite proud. Then we moved on to another, less game-based bar, and did a bit of dancing. After a mojito (at $2) or two, dancing was easy! And one of the guys from the school, Oliver, showed me a few moves. It was fun chatting to the other students and a few locals, and generally letting my hair down. Amazing how drunk you can get at this altitude though, I was seeing double by the end of the night. Though fortunately I think I managed to avoid standing on too many toes, so all was good!

The next day, slightly hungover, Marilyn (from Sweden), Sam (from New England), Aldis (from Iceland) and I went to the Mitad del Mundo. We got a few photos posing in front of the equator monument and the official line, had a traditional Ecuadorian lunch (minus the roasted whole guinea pig, thankfully), and browsed the touristy tiendas. I really wish I'd bought the llama finger-puppet! We were persuaded by a guy in the car park to take a trip to a nearby volcano caldera (impressed Tash?) for a bit of a hike. Sadly it was too cloudy up there to see much except a few metres of the path ahead, but it was really cool - more cloud-forest type scenery. The guide showed us various medicinal plants and persuaded us to try them. We sampled anis, rosemary, mint, some wierd plant that is supposed to help with period pain, and some hallucinogenic berries. It takes 40 to have hallucinations, we only had 1 each. Probably a good idea since the path was quite narrow and the drop quite steep!

On Sunday, having recovered from my hangover (but not from being continually teased about it by Mercedes), Marilyn and I took the Teleferico (a new cable car) a good way up the volcano that looms to the west of Quito, called Pichincha. From a height of 4,100m (at the top of the cable car), we hiked to the top of one of it's summits, at about 4,700m. It doesn't sound much, but it was so tiring at that altitude! It took us about 3 hours to get up to the top, and the terrain was really tricky at times. I got scared! The paths were narrow and the drops so sheer. At times we were scrambling up scree slopes and traversing almost vertical walls of rock. I don't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that clouds obscured the views at times. It definitely didn't help me to know that some mountaineer died up there last Saturday, which we found out half way up! Maybe because of that, there were various arrows and "NO"s graffiti-ed on the path suggesting that it wasn't the best idea to take this route, but everyone else was... And we made it down okay! The views were spectacular. Not only were the mountains we were amongst dramatic, but we could see Quito sprawled out in front of us, and in the distance the perfectly cone-shaped, classically snow-capped volcano of Cotopaxi rising out of the clouds.

I'm still not sure whether it's a great idea, but Marilyn and I are joining a group that Oliver is getting together to attempt Cotopaxi this coming weekend. He suggested it on Friday night, and maybe I wasn't in the best condition to consider the idea rationally. But he's a rock climber - in fact he teaches it - and he's spoken to a good company about getting a guide and seems to know what he's doing. At least, I thought so, until yesterday, when I heard what happened at the weekend. He and two of the other students, Matthew (from the US, like Oliver), and Maria (Danish, like everyone else), hired a car to visit Columbia for the weekend. I think all they really wanted was a Colombian passport stamp. Oliver invited me to come, and I would have been tempted had I not made other plans. Anyway, they got stopped by the Ecuadorean police on the way and searched. Incredibly stupidly, Oliver had marijuana with him. The whole group were interrogated individually, in Spanish, and Oliver ended up forking out a bribe of over $700 to let them go. They made it on to Columbia and back without a hiccup. But Oliver has not been his usual cheerful self since! He claimed he was going to use or get rid of it all before they attempted to cross the border, but even then there'd have been a detectable residue, surely. It makes an interesting travel story (which kept my host family entertained), but a very expensive one for Oliver. Glad I wasn't persuaded to go. Well, kind of...

Nevertheless, I put my name down for the Cotopaxi trip today. I'm hearing various reports. One guy at the school did it last weekend, and says it was the hardest thing he's ever done. But he made it. My host family think I'm crazy, since I have no experience of ice or snow climbing. It's true, crampons and other gear is required, but the company provides all the specialist stuff. It's expensive relative to other things I could do at the weekend, but at $140 it's a bargain, and I'm not going to get an opportunity like this again. I didn't quite make it to the top of Kilimanjaro, but I coped alright with what I did do, so I'm determined that I can do this one. Okay I'm not great with heights, but I hear it's a relatively gradual climb, and we're trussed up to one another. Plus it'll be nighttime or snowing, so I won't see the drops! I've spent nearly 2 weeks at nearly 3000m in Quito, including some running, plus I did an acclimatisation climb on Sunday. We're a group of 7, and most of them have as little or less experience than me. So I'm going to go for it. We leave at 8am on Friday (so I have to rearrange my lessons) and should get back on Sunday evening. I'm scared!

One more thing

Oh yeah, and my phone doesn't work over here. I paid 20 English pounds to have the thing unlocked, but I am told that South American SIM cards won't work with it. I may try and get a cheap phone this weekend, but until I do, my phone is just my alarm clock. Not that I need one. I'm still waking up at 5.30 or 6 every morning naturally! Anyway, send me emails, I'm missing you all!

Bloody Ecuadorean Weather

I thought that, travelling to exotic tropical places, I'd escape the English weather. How wrong I was. It was disgusting last night; I got drenched on the way home. This morning was the same. It's cold and wet. AND I hear England is getting snow! So not fair!! Plus I've got a stonking cold. Couldn't speak when I woke up this morning. I thought that with all the exciting fruits I'm getting I'd be more than meeting my vitamin C requirements.

I've just finished my first week of classes in the Academia. What have I learnt? Well, I'm not fluent yet, that's for sure. My vocabulary is certainly growing (the fact that you can often just add an "o" or "amente" to English words helps), but I'm a bit useless at conjugating my verbs properly. We had a test this morning, our weekly review - it's like being back at high school! I did alright with parts of the body and adjectives, but my little composition was a bit shitty. I got confused with estar and ser, which both mean "to be". Practice is the key, I'm sure, I just need the confidence to try what I think I know with Spanish-speaking people. It's not the fear of getting it wrong that makes me wary, it's the fact that I can never understand the replies! This morning the maid (whose name I STILL don't know!) was chatting away to me, trying to speak clearly, but even then I didn't really have a clue. It's a bit demoralising when two of the other people in my class of four have absolutely no problems. Now I know what it's like to be the dunce of the class! I'm definitely improving though.

It's really interesting to learn about the culture of Ecuador. Most of the exercises try to incorporate social issues. We had a (very slow paced!) debate about the pros and cons of immigration the other day, and we've covered national festivals, religion and education too. This afternoon, in my one-to-one class, we went through an article translated from an English newspaper about an affair between the mother of a Premiership footballer and her son's teammate, who was only 14. We got into the legality and propriety of underage sexual relationships, all in Spanish, it was a little bizarre!

I'm getting to know the other traveller-types in the school too. There's a real mixture. There's probably about 30 students at the Academia, and at least 15 are between 18 and 25. There are some more mature students, they're really fun too. There are a variety of nationalities, with the inevitable collection of yanks, but fewer English than I expected, and a surprisingly high number of Danish students. Most people chat in English: I'm so impressed by the Icelandics and the Danes speaking near perfect English and learning Spanish! I'm getting to know more of my fellow students. At first it seemed a bit cliquey, since some of them have been here for over a month. But it's not really. Some people are here for aaaages. Their Spanish will be great, but I think I'd get reeeeally bored staying here for so long. I'm already itching to get off travelling again. Can't wait for my tour of Ecuador!

This week has been mostly filled with learning Spanish, but there have been more exciting moments. As well as the amazing soups and veggie meals I'm getting for dinner, I got lemon meringue pie for dessert on Tuesday! My maid tried to scare me by telling me it was made of fish, but surprisingly I wasn't fooled. Bless her. The Ecuadorians do think I'm weird to be vegetarian. I hate to think what the reaction will be in Argentina, home of the best steak in the world. So, because I just can't resist all the good food I'm getting, I really need an alternative strategy to stop me putting on an extra 3 stone. I'm walking to and from school (it takes about 45 minutes) - except this morning when I got a taxi (for $1.80) because the weather was so disgusting - and I went for a run on Wednesday. It's incredibly tiring at 3000m! Good job too - I got lemon meringue pudding Wednesday night as well. My host mother seems to be on a diet and has no carbs or dessert and really small portions, whilst I get a huge bowl of soup (which sometimes consists of pasta, potatoes, cheese and milk), a big plate of rice, bean mush, salad and sometimes fried and caramelised bananas, followed by a huge slice of pie. Still, I think it makes the maid happy that I have a good appetite!

Last night there was a dancing class in the Academia. It was led by a really cute black guy with the fastest feet and hips in the world! I just about managed to keep up with the first few moves, but then it got so fast I coudn't even see what his feet were doing, let along try and copy him! It was really energetic and good fun though. We did a bit of salsa, marangue and tango. Think I'll have to have had a fair few drinks to try them out for real! Marilyn, the Swede, besides being a genius at Spanish, is also an amazing dancer and did a few songs with the teacher after the class. Wish I could dance like that! We went into the area of Quito nicknamed "Gringolandia", for obvious reasons, for a meal after. It was one of the most expensive places in Quito: I paid about $7 for a dish of veggie spaghetti and a diet coke!

Tonight the plan is to go out dancing in one of the salsa-teques. Oh dear! I'll be trying not to make a huge fool of myself. Tomorrow a few of us are going to go to "La mitad del mundo" (the middle of the world), a site right on the equator where the water goes straight down the toilet when you flush it, and various other interesting gravitational or magnetic phenomena occur. There's a museum and such like. And on Sunday, weather permitting (which, as in England, it probably won't be), I'll be going up el teleferico (a cable car) into the mountains for a bit of hiking. Quite excited about that. It'll be practice for Cotopaxi, a big 6000m-plus ice-capped volcano that I'd really like to climb. Only problem is that you need crampons and stuff... and I'm not great with heights...

Finally, I'd like to draw your attention to a statistic of which I am most proud.

Items lost so far: 0

To all of you who are placing bets, ha ha ha. (Admittedly there is another statistic of which I am ashamed. Items left in the computer room of the Academia: 1 purse. But that doesn't count, because someone handed it in for me. Right?)