Well, the trek was hell on earth. We went down a mountainside, which was OK but a bit annoying (it was very hot, and the guide—who didn’t speak a word of English—insisted on using funny whistles and hand movements to indicate something, we couldn’t tell what). The way back up was a surprise. Because the air was so thin, we all got out of breath scarily quickly.

Altitude sickness all the way up! I have never ever felt so bad in my entire life. I’m a complete wimp when it comes to feeling sick; hangovers leave me immobile until 4pm. So it was great fun having to go up a bloody massive mountain (in the pitch dark—it was 2am) whilst vomiting every 30 minutes. I did two days trekking on a mountain on a virtually empty stomach.

The worst part was the seeming endlessness of it. It would have been just a bit annoying and unpleasant, if it wasn’t for the hopelessness of never actually reaching the end. As we neared the top I was so tired (what with the being sick, no oxygen, no food…) I kept nearly falling asleep, and quite possibly would have stayed there if it hadn’t been for Ailis.

One of the hostels we stayed in before the trek was in Yanque. This is a small, traditional mountain village which was gorgeous. It was completely quiet, the owner was an excellent cook, and there was the most adorable toddler who lived there, whose name was Dana.

Just before the mountain climb of doom, we stayed in an Oasis which consisted of bamboom huts. It was actually really exciting: you could see the stars through the roof and walls, and I have never seen so many in my life. There was an outdoor pool fed by a mountain stream which was the best thing I have ever encountered in my life. The water was cool, without being freezing, and it was the perfect way to recover after spending an age trampsing about an endless mountain.

Right, I’m going to post, and continue in another one, because this computer might fail at any minute, and I can’t recover posts.

How’s that for service. We’re going on a trek tomorrow, and now I can reveal the name (because I was being stupid when I was posting a while ago). It’s the Colco Canyon, and it’s going to be amazing. Altitude will be a part of the whole experience, so I’m half expecting my head to explode because of the low air pressure. Maybe it won’t, who knows.

Beard lovers will be pleased to hear that I am currently sporting a week’s worth of growth. It’s quite good actually, I like it, despite what people will blatantly say when I get back. Also finding myself in the unexpected position of being incapable of typing! I type so many errors. I will tyry to type this one without correcting myself. Oh rtight, that wasn’t so bafd.

Never mind.

Decided to brave it and have a freezing cold shower. It was horrible and disgusting, but also strangely wonderful. I have found something that people should try to remember: washing your face in cold water gets rid of headaches. It’s true! I found this a while ago, it’s wonderful. The colder the better, and washing your whole head in cold water is even better. Seriously, next time you have a headache, try it.

Right, I’m waffling about mindless nonsense. I’m gonna check my emails.

Right, I’ve got my diary with me today, so you’re getting loads, time permitting ;D

We had a massive journey over, but this time we travelled by Royal Class. Better than English coaches! You get proper reclining chairs, and also they give you food. Unfortunately, my fish had loads of bone in it, so I was nearly sick. In Arequipa is a cafe where they serve real coffee, not just instant (which is apparently like most of South America - which makes no sense).

We’re quiter high up in Arequipa, and the altitude makes you get a bit out of breath and makes your legs feel hollow. It’s the perfect excuse for being unfit. Or rather, it’s good cos you can blame something else.

Arequipa is breathtaking. It’s just gorgeous. Most of the buildings are made out of this volcanic rock sillar, which looks like the moon. In fact, the locals have a saying here, that when the moon separated from the Earth it forgot to take Arequipa. I’ve been taking loads of photos, so many that the camera now takes about 10 seconds to warm up as it counts how many I’ve got left. I have 657 so far, and I’ve only been here 8 days!!!

We’ve just come back from the convent of Santa Catalina. If you like photography, that place is heaven. It is literally imossible to take a bad photo, every angle and direction is a perfect shot. I’m not joking! Consequently, I took about 200 in the hour we were there. Gonna have to download them at some point…

We arrived in the bus station (which is called a terrapuerto by the way - “Earthport”) at 4am. The hotel owners had been waiting to pick us up since 12am. The Peruvians really are very kind. The hotel is very nice, with a Terrace with hammocks. I think it’s owner by a Dutch lady called Alex.

If you want to do the trek in the Canyon in Arequipa, this hotel is highly recommended by us. It’s called El Indio Dormido (the sleeping indian) and they arrange a tour which comes at a very good price and is very comprehensive.

Juanita

We also saw the mummy they call Juanita. She is a 13 year old girl that was sacrificed by the Inca (I think). In the Inca Empire, which spanned from Columbia to Chile, they have found 18 child mummies, all sacrificed. It’s very strange. The museum is quite comprehensive, with English speaking guides (and a host of other languages) and the grave goods are exquisite - so well preserved.

The actual mummy, Juanita, is on display in a “deep freeze” cabinet. Looking at her is quite eerie, until you realise that you’re looking at a little girl. Maybe I shouldn’t apply modern western values to the whole thing, but despite the assurances of the guides that she died voluntarily and painlessly (she was drugged and unconscious when they delivered the blow to the head) I couldn’t help but feel, at the least, sorry for her.

It’s strange to think that while Shakespear was writing his plays, another civilisation was still so, and I hate to use the word, primitive.

On a lighter note, Ailis has managed to block two toilets, and break another. Apparently she pulled the tap off in the toilet on the coach. I am also finding the plumbing here to be interesting. Hot water seems to exist in certain hallowed areas, and, it seems, at certain times of the day. The shower has taps bearing the letters H and C. Unfortunately, in Spanish, “hot” is “caldo”, so we’re never sure which is which. It makes little difference, however, because both are usually cold, even when allowed to run for ages. This morning, all I could stand to wash were my feet. This is day four of not showering, but I still don’t smell! I am a blessed man.