We had planned on having a few days in Salta but due to the bus situ we only had one. We started the day with Alex getting a hair cut. The precision that was taken over it was remarkable! Alex decided that he wanted to climb a hill and I just couldn’t be bothered. So I had a wander around the nearby plaza before relaxing at the hostel whilst waiting for Alex to come back. That evening we went back to the bar from the previous evening and I was given the most enormous glass of red wine. Starting Argentina as we meant to go on!

Alex and I have a Christmas tradition of going to different steakhouses in London a few days before Christmas. Not wishing to break this tradition and being in the land of steak we found one on tripadvisor and hoped there was a table free. It didn’t open until 8. At 8.05 we were at the door and a bit confused as to why the floors were still being cleaned. We’ve come to realise that the time in South America is very flexible. Anyway, not put off we took our seats and had the nicest waiter who was full of recommendations and allowed us to order off menu. A bottle of wine at $4 was madness! When our food arrived we couldn’t believe the quantity! The steak was delicious! I could only manage 1/3 but we had the most wonderful doggy bag! We left around 10pm and the restaurant was just getting busy. We couldn’t comprehend how they could eat such a big meal so late. How do they digest?!

The next morning we got an early taxi to the airport as we were headed to Puerto Iguazu to see the falls. Our flight left early which never happens and soon we touched down at Puerto Iguazu. Alex was feeling a little delicate today after the booze last night. After a coke he perked up a bit but couldn’t stomach food for a while! We jumped in the shuttle bus and got dropped off at our hostel. After a quick check in we headed back out as we wanted to head to the Brazil side of the falls this afternoon. We had heard about the atm fees and low cash withdrawal limits in Argentina but one tried to charge us 33%! We decided to make do with the cash we had and hopefully get some at a better rate in Buenos Aires. We whizzed through the Brazil border and soon found ourselves at the falls. The views, as we had been told, were amazing. Just so much water! The trail went parallel to the falls and we could look across to the Argentinian side. On the way we saw some coatis which are like raccoons. Whilst novel for us they seemed like massive pests as they were stealing people’s food from tables and getting into bags. There were also some massive lizards cruising around hoping for a dropped snack. The falls were extremely crowded and there were a lot of selfies taking place, by us too! We headed back to the bus and then subsequently the border to our hostel. Left over steak tonight! Yum.

The next morning we had an annoying start to the day. We checked our flight to Buenos Aires and it had been pushed back 4 hours and we hadn’t been informed. After a rather heated convo with the airline and being told the flight time had been changed 6 times before they cancelled our flight (we didn’t get a single notification) we had to stick with the 3pm flight. The issue was that shops closed at 6pm on Christmas Eve in BA and so it would be very tight making it to buy supplies for our Christmas lunch. After the delay we headed to the Argentinian side. The admin of ticket buying was a much messier affair as they refused all but one of our cards and just said ‘we don’t take that one’. There was no point exploring this option any further. Eventually we got our tickets and rushed in to try and make the jungle and river boat trip. We just made it and soon we were bouncing along the jungle track on a big jeep. We had heard this was not the highlight of the tour and our experience confirmed this as we didn’t see a thing.

The speedboat was the real reason for the tour. We were passed a dry bag and a life jacket and took our seats near the front of the boat. We zoomed up the rapids and were looking up at the falls which was incredible. We were then told to put our cameras away and the excitement started to build amongst the boat. We headed to a small fall and the captain did a cheeky drive through it just enough to get a few people soaked. Then it was time for the big one. We headed to the big falls and 2 fully submerged trips later we were soaked but couldn’t stop smiling. The pressure of the water was unbelievable. After a quick change of clothes we headed back to the jeep to drive back the way we’d come, again seeing nothing! The afternoon was spent walking along all the trails and also getting the train up to the top of the falls which was fun. We spent about 9 hours in the park! Then we headed home for…yep more steak. It was the last bit left. Only this time we had it with pasta. Mixing things up!

The next morning (Christmas Eve!) we packed and then managed to find some chocolate panettone for Christmas. I love Christmas Eve and classic fm is constantly playing in our household. After getting the liberty bell piece played for us on the Friday before our wedding, Alex did another shout out today which got read out so that was fun. We were feeling a bit homesick but we knew that would happen so we just had to get on with it! We got the shuttle back to the airport and treated ourselves to an airport beer. We watched most of Rio 2 on the flight and soon we were landing in BA which Alex can tell you about.

As Hoff described at the end of her last post, the afternoon of the 18th December was a bit of a miserable one. Having discovered that every single long distance bus was full until after Christmas, and with no other viable alternatives presenting themselves, we were resigning ourselves to Christmas spent in San Pedro. This would have meant missing out on Iguazu Falls and Buenos Aires, not to mention a lot of wasted money that we had already spent on flights and accommodation. Just as we got to the point of giving up, we suddenly had a brain wave. What if we could somehow get to the border into Argentina, hitchhike to a nearby town and then get a local bus to Salta? We had three days spare and surely that was enough time? We decided we’d give it a crack as what was the worst that could happen?

As Hoff also mentioned, we bumped into a German couple who were in a similar situation. They had reservations in Salta for Christmas so needed to get there too in the coming days. We agreed that we would split the cost of a taxi to the border and then chance our luck the other side. The only issue was that they had already booked a tour the next day. Therefore we spent the following day relaxing in the hostel, reading our books and writing blog posts, as we waited for our pick up the next morning. We’d heard that it isn’t exactly 100% legit for taxis to drop you at the border, but the story seemed to change from person to person. Our fixer said they did it all the time, so on the morning of the 20th December we all piled into the 4×4 confident we’d get across, but slightly nervous nevertheless.

Two and a bit hours later we arrived at the crossing into Argentina. We said bye and thanks to our driver, and then grabbed all our gear and walked to the border station. To our surprise it was very easy to cross, once we had all the stamps, and it seemed like crossing on foot was a common thing to do. We whizzed through – aided by the fact that all the lorries seemed to be queuing up to get through so the officials were twiddling their thumbs – and 30 mins later we walked out into the Argentinian side of the pass. So far, so good. It did help that our German friend spoke fluent Spanish but we had our tails up and figured that maybe this would be easier than we had thought.

That confidence didn’t last long. Wandering into the nearby petrol station we set about trying to find a lift at least in the direction of Salta. We’d heard that you could ask the petrol attendants to ask passing lorry drivers for a lift. However, many of the lorries were still stuck at the border. Whilst we worked out that to do, Hoff went and stood by the road with our home made sign asking passing car drivers for a lift. There she got talking to another fellow would-be hitchhiker. He told her that he had been there since 9am the previous day and that the border was basically closed to lorries for some reason. He said he had tried and failed all day to get a lift, but to no avail. Hoff came back with the news and we felt dejected. However we’d also heard stories of locals taking people into the nearest town for a fee, so we set about wangling ourselves a ride. Eventually, having spoken to another petrol attendant, we managed to bag a lift. Some swift negotiations later and we all piled into a pickup truck. Sitting four across the back seat – we’d felt sorry for the other hitchhiker so gave him a space in our ride – we were soon on our way to the nearby (by nearby I mean 3 hours/250km away) town where we’d been promised we could get a bus on to Salta.

3 hot and cramped hours later and we arrived into Pumamaca. We’d been told we could get a bus here towards Salta, and sure enough we managed to grab a seat on the bus to Jujuy. It was filled with locals and then packed to bursting point about twenty minutes later when we pulled over to pick up passengers from another bus that had broken down. We were bursting at the seams with people and their Christmas presents, all heading back to the cities for the holidays. That all meant that we arrived forty minutes late and were in danger of missing our connection on to Salta. Luckily we found that there were more buses running that way than we thought, and after a Hoff and I had had a mini disagreement about whether to pay with cash or card (when you’re tired you tend to have silly arguments about absolutely nothing!) we managed to get a late afternoon bus for the two and a bit hours to Salta.

We finally pulled into the Salta bus terminal around 9pm. We’d been on the move for 14 hours and were travelled out. We just wanted a shower and to be able to sleep out of the sitting position. In the pouring rain we went to the taxi rank and managed to persuade the taxi controller that all four of us plus our huge bags would fit in a small taxi. He didn’t seem convinced at first but we proved him wrong as we crammed like sardines into a tiny cab. With the suspension creaking and exhaust pipe basically touching the ground, we got to the hostel that the Germans had booked and, knocking on the door, prayed they’d have space for us two as well. Luckily they did, and we plumped for a private room – a bunk bed in the eight person dorm just didn’t appeal to us – and after a shower we quickly headed out into the town to get some food. We had an amazing pulled pork bun and a couple of well deserved beers before we called it a night and went back to the hostel to sleep, lying down, and stationary for the first time in almost 18 hours!

Up next – Hoff takes you through our time in Puerto Iguazu and then on to Buenos Aires.

After a very hot then freezing cold bus ride we arrived at 6am in Uyuni. We had barely stepped off the bus before we were surrounded by tour guides telling us to ‘come this way’ to their shop and they will ‘give us a good price’. We basically had to shout that we needed to at least get our luggage before going anywhere. Eventually one guy talked us into going with him to the nearby cafe. We dumped our kit and spent the next 3 hours there whilst we had breakfast and got talked into the trip.

At 1030am the Nissan Patrol was packed, our bags hurled onto the roof and we were off. Our first stop was at a railway cemetery. Quite odd but worth seeing all the same. It was where they left all the old locomotives to rust once they were finished with them.

We then headed onto the salt flats. It was absolutely bizarre. Everywhere was covered in salt. The ground was very sharp and we soon had our first puncture of the trip. After a quick change over to the spare (which was definitely smaller than the other tyres) we were on our way again. We did the classic salt flat photos of us jumping and we even used our marmite pot as an accessory for the perspective shots! It was crazily hot and we had to keep running into the shade. At one point I was desperate for a wee so I had to ask everyone else to wait behind one side of the car whilst I went for a quick wee on the other side. There was nowhere else to hide! Sunset was spent in the middle of nowhere and we then made our way to the salt hotel. It literally was made of salt. The floor of our room was covered in salt and the bed frame was salt. Totally bizarre. After a pretty rank meal we got an early night after the night bus last night. As always Alex couldn’t sleep! Both of us couldn’t wait until we were no longer at a high altitude.

On the second day the terrain was very different. Our first stop was to get the previous days puncture fixed! We stopped at several lagoons where thousands of flamingos lived. It was cool seeing them but we were and still are very curious as to how they ended up living there. Apart from the lagoon the place is barren. We also saw a few chinchillas along the way which was fun. We then had our second puncture! We heard the air pouring out so knew it was a big one. Sure enough the edge of the tyre had a huge hole in it. Not good. The original tyre was put back on and we just hoped the puncture had been fixed sufficiently. We had to dodge dust clouds from passing lorries and by the time it was fixed everyone was covered.

Alex and I found our group both curious and boring. There was a delightful mother and her 10 year old son with impeccable manners. Then there were 2 guys travelling on their own, both in their early 20s. Neither of these guys offered to help when we got either of the punctures. They just expected someone else to do it. We were tempted to tell them to help but with another 24hrs to go in the same car it just wasn’t worth any disagreements. That night the altitude was the highest we had stayed so far. We slept for about an hour the whole night. Every time I closed my eyes I couldn’t breathe. It’s really scary. For once we were very happy that our alarm was 0400 as it was a break from trying and failing to sleep. The early start was because it was a long drive for those heading back to Uyuni. We however were headed to Chile. We had read that from San Pedro de Atacama in Chile, which was just 40 mins from the border, we could get a direct bus to Salta in Argentina which was where we needed to get to. Before we left for the salt flat tour there were seats available on the buses so we didn’t feel the need to book. Most of our buses during the rest of the trip we had only booked the day before. What a costly and emotional mistake this turned out to be. More on that another time.

Anyway. Back to our tour. We drove to see some geysers and then we changed cars, which we hadn’t been made aware of, so that we would be dropped at the border. Our bags were taken off the car roof, a final check inside the car was done to make sure we had everything and we changed to our own private jeep to the border. We got there just before 8am and the border was due to open then. We unloaded our kit and the car headed off. I looked at my backpack and had a sinking feeling. The guidebook on the side of my bag was missing. This was the same guidebook I had looked at this morning and considered moving it to a safer place but decided it was ok where it was. I was absolutely gutted. It had been a present from my brother and it was really going to come into its own when we wanted to travel in Chile. I was so cross and tired that I burst into tears. Totally irrationally as it was just a book but sometimes rationale goes out the window when travelling!

We got the shuttle bus through the border and then got dropped at San Pedro. It was boiling and only 10am. We hadn’t booked anywhere to stay and so wandered into town to get some cash and then try and find somewhere. I mistakenly tried to use Alex’s card and my PIN number so after attempt 2 I gave up getting cash. I then got lost going back to the main square so was pretty unimpressed by the time I got back to Alex. He went to get cash using the right card and pin and the right route! We found ourselves somewhere to stay. A triple room with the hope that a third person didn’t turn up needing a room. Our plan was to shower and then go back to the bus station to book the bus, but I said that maybe we should sort the bus first. 15 mins later and our afternoon took a very different turn from the relaxing one we had envisaged. The signs at the 2 bus companies running the infrequent buses to Salta said that they were all full until 23 December and then again until after Christmas. Of course we had forgotten to take into account that everyone and their dog were also trying to travel home to see friends and family for Christmas at the same time. After many expletives, pleading with the sulky woman at one of the counters and then many tears from me, we found ourselves nursing a shared sprite in a cafe, using the wifi and trying to work out what the hell we should do. It was the 18th December and we had a flight from Salta on the 22nd December, so the direct bus after Christmas was out of the question. We asked around and there were no local buses. Renting a car also wouldn’t work and the only flights available were via Santiago, would take hours, and were ridiculously expensive. Other people were now also arriving to get tickets with the same plan as us. A German couple, who had weirdly stayed in the same hostel as us in La Paz at the same time, also needed to get to a Salta. We headed back to town with the plan of somehow arranging to get to the border. We thought that if we could at least get there and into Argentina, we might be able to find some other way of getting to Salta in time for our flight. So began a rather exciting 48 hours, but I’ll let Alex explain the rest!

The only thing that Hoff could talk about whilst we were in the jungle, apart from how much she was getting bitten by mosquitoes (which was quite a lot, to be fair), was how desperate she was for a Subway sandwich. Therefore, when we landed back in LP after our slightly bumpy flight, we went straight in to the airport branch for dinner and all scoffed down our favourite sandwiches. It was embarrassingly good, all washed down with a sprite and finished with a cookie. Three very satisfied customers, albeit still smelly from the jungle, then got a taxi back down to our hostel. No food was needed for dinner as we were all still full, and once we’d all showered and applied lashings of anti itch cream to our mossie bites, we sank into our clean and cool beds looking forward to a quiet and dry nights sleep.

Of course, the altitude didn’t let me get much sleep and once again I was wide awake for most of the night. The previous three nights had been but a short reprieve and I was back to my usual sleep deprived self. However, we had a relatively relaxed day ahead of us to recover from the jungle so it wouldn’t be too energy sapping. Breakfast was what you’d expect it was, and fuelled by coffee and eggs we hit the town. First stop was to get a couple of cable cars up the hill. As previously mentioned, LP is criss crossed by Swiss made gondolas and they make for an excellent way to traverse the city. We sailed up above the hustle and bustle, silently peering down at the traffic below. It was almost magical and a great way to see LP from another angle. We jumped out at one of the stations and wandered around the markets at the top of the valley, but soon were back on the cable car again enjoying the ride.

We spent a good couple of hours floating above the hubbub and when we were finished we found a place to book our bike tour the next day. We wanted to cycle down the notorious death road before we left Bolivia and had heard good things about the scenery, so once that was booked in we spent the afternoon washing all our smelly jungle kit whilst Anna, whose jet lag had finally caught up with her, grabbed a couple of hours of well earned sleep. We also spent an hour watching the locals parade though the city. Apparently they do it each year and it was a complete mix of costumes – Christmassy and some not so Christmassy – but it was fun to watch and get into the spirit; Hoff and Anna been bought some Christmas hats that they then wore proudly for the rest of the day. Later we all went to a local Belgian Bolivian restaurant – they seem to do a lot of weird crossover food in Bolivia – before we again spent the rest of the evening nursing mosquito bites and watching National Geographic, turning in for the night to get some much needed sleep ahead of a busy adrenaline fuelled day the next day.

Early the next morning we were picked up and whizzed through the city heading out towards the start of our death road cycle adventure. The death road was, until 2007, the only land access from LP to the jungle towns like Rurrenbaraque. It is 2.5m wide and has drop offs on the left side as you head down the valley of up to 800m. It was built by Chilean prisoners of war from one of the many local conflicts they’ve had in the last hundred years or so, and many of the builders died during construction. It is said that the road was cursed and for each one Chilean who died, three Bolivians would die on the road. Whilst just folklore, the road does have a fearsome reputation as many people have died in car and bus accidents over the years. 12 years ago they built another safer and bigger road, but the death road remains used by locals and thrill seekers alike, the latter going down the road by bike.

After breakfast at the top of the valley we set off down the road on our mountain bikes. The first part is paved but very soon it turns into a stone track with sheer drops on one side and sheer cliffs up on the other. Dodging potholes, waterfalls and the occasional tourist minibus, we made our way down the road. It wasn’t quite as scary as we’d been expecting but it was exciting nevertheless, and still pretty bone jarring despite the full suspension on our bikes. At the top we started in cool mist but by the time we got to the bottom, caked in mud, the sun was out and the skies were blue, and we were all dripping with sweat. Luckily we’d all made it to the bottom without incident or injury, and over a celebratory beer our guides told us some horror stories of things that had happened in the past. There were frequent, and to be expected, tales of broken bones and big falls, but we weren’t expecting them to tell us about all the deaths. Apparently they get a few tourists falling off the cliffs each year and it was quite a sobering thing to hear. Our guides had held off telling us until we were all safely down but it was worrying, yet strangely exhilarating, to think that we’d just cycled down one of the worlds most dangerous roads. Even Hoff, who isn’t a massive cycling fan, admitted that it was fun, although the hour that we spent sunbathing by the pool that afternoon, along with the ice cold beer, probably added to her enjoyment.

To get back to LP we had to drive back along the new road, climbing all the way back up to 3600m along the winding and misty concrete. Everyone was nodding like dogs trying not to fall asleep (all unsuccessfully) and when we got back we were all ready for bed. However it was our last night in LP and our last night travelling with Anna – in fact we were off on a night bus later that evening, so we all dropped our bags back at the hostel and then went out for a celebratory early Christmas dinner. Having Anna with us had been really good fun. She was such a good sport for coming all the way to see us for such a short amount of time. We’d really crammed in the sightseeing as well. Hoff and I had really enjoyed having someone else to talk to – as much as we love each others company, sometimes some fresh perspectives and some new jokes are lovely to have! We all stuffed ourselves full that evening and washed the food down with a couple of glasses of wine, but it was all over too quickly and before we knew it we had to jump in a taxi to head to the bus station to get our overnight transport to Uyuni, the gateway to the salt flats. As we settled in to our seats for the 8 hour drive south, we were sad to be leaving Anna behind but excited at the next step of our trip. After the salt flats we’d be heading into Chile (briefly) before Argentina, and Christmas was just around the corner.

Up next – Hoff will take you though the salt flats and on to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile

The jeep was loaded and we all piled into the car. Our guide was accompanied by his wife who would be the chef for our trip, and also their 4 year old son (he was later dropped off with family). After what felt like driving down every road of Rurrenabaque making random stops we were finally on our way. The dirt road was seriously bumpy but it made for a fun drive. The driver suddenly stopped and shouted Sloth. The 3 of us thought no way, that’s not possible. But it was indeed a sloth. How had he seen it in a tree along the road when we were zooming along?! We could barely see it standing under the tree. Either he had insane vision or the sloth is there every day. We will never know. The road also had other wildlife such as ostrich (yep!) and capybara.

After a stop for lunch we soon found ourselves at the ‘port’ where there were several very thin boats, just wide enough for 2 people to sit down on what were essentially metal picnic chairs. Our kit was loaded and then for no apparent reason we waited 45 mins to leave. Once the clock struck 1400 it seemed acceptable to leave so we all took our seats. Decked out in trousers and then borrowed wellies and ‘Dad’ shirts (ideal for painting) we looked and felt the part. The river was absolutely teeming with wildlife. We didn’t know where to look for the next 3.5 hours. Birds just everywhere. Alligators. Caiman. Monkeys. Capybara. Pink dolphins (so weird) and a whole heap of turtles. The weather was glorious and everything was going well. Little did we know that through our clothes hundreds of mosquitos were attacking us. They were so stealth that we didn’t see or feel them.

After checking into the lodge which consisted of bunk rooms and very basic showers we headed off to the sunset bar. This entailed a short boat ride and ended with a bar that had no drinks. What a let down. It was pretty cloudy so the sunset wasn’t the best. On the way back Alex had to shine his torch along the river so we could see where to go. The mossies ambushed his hand!! So evil!! That night when I was changing I caught sight of what turned out to be hundreds of bites on my thighs. It was horrific and they where going to get worse….! We all separated into our beds and hid under our mossie nets. We could hear a lot of squeaking and we saw a whole mouse family in the roof above our beds. There was also a bat that kept flying around. At least they’d be eating some of the mosquitoes!

After a very itchy night we woke up to hear the most deafening howling. It sounded like a gale. It was howler monkeys. Such an incredible noise. After breakfast we went to look for anacondas. It was unbearably hot but due to the bites I wasn’t taking any chances and so wore my very unbreathable waterproof trousers hoping that mossies couldn’t get me through them. After trawling through a field looking for an anaconda we came away having seen a dead cobra and also being very close to some rather large alligators. Alex and I wore mossie nets on our heads and at times we easily had 100+ of them on us. BUT they couldn’t get in hahaha! Our shirts were white and soon they were starting to look like a crime scene with all the squashed mossies on them. We headed back for lunch and in the afternoon went fishing for piranhas. Slem was the only one to catch one! We headed back to the sunset bar and this time they had beer. hooray. Good thing too as when I took off my waterproof trousers my legs were so painful from the bites I burst into tears! The chef got some pure alcohol and using her scarf rubbed it on my legs. Then she got some amazing menthol stuff like Vicks and covered my legs in it. An antihistamine and beer later and life was looking much better. We now carry the menthol stuff with us. mossie ready. That night we had an enormous thunderstorm. At 2am we were all awake and trying to do anything but scratch!!

The next morning we headed off down the river to look for the pink dolphins. They have such long noses. You can swim with them but having seen the number of alligators in the river there was no way was I going in. Also it would give the mossies the chance to attack again! After an early lunch we headed back to the port. We had booked a flight for that evening as we had been assured the tour would finish in time. We waited at the port for about 90 minutes. Our guide seemed very relaxed but we were getting stressed as our flight time was fast approaching and we still had a few hours of driving. Finally the car turned up and we were on our way. After a very muddy and slippery journey, with our driver going at breakneck speed, we made the flight and it was only 30 minutes back to La Paz. The Pampas were amazing but mosquitos certainly dominated the trip!

Hoff left you as we had just arrived in La Paz. Nestled in a valley in the mountains – when I say valley I mean a huge one with space for millions of people – LP is a mad city. It’s criss crossed with cable cars as the hills are so steep they need ski lifts to get about and there are almost as many cars as their are people. It’s also ridiculously high – it’s one of the highest major cities in the world – and that makes walking up even the smallest hill a real challenge.

After another standard South American breakfast of bread and eggs, we jumped in a taxi to the airport to meet our friend Anna. Anna is one of the only people we know who is mad enough to come out for South America for a week, and specifically to a country that only a few weeks ago was in the midst of civil strife. It was great to see a friendly face coming through the arrivals hall and Hoff and I were secretly excited about having someone else to talk to for a while. I’m not sure Anna was ready for the onslaught of chat that hit her but she took it like a champ after 20 hours of travelling. Once we’d dropped her things at the hotel we all went out for a celebratory beer. It was great to catch up on all the things we’d missed in London, whilst having a local brew. We also planned our trip to the jungle the next day and jumped onto another free walking tour. This one was actually very good and we learnt a lot about the history of the city as well as more recent events. It was sad to hear how much the city relied on tourism – much like the rest of the country – and our guide was keen for us to tell as many people as we could that Bolivia was back open for business. That evening we had some interesting Dutch Bolivian food, which was nicer then it sounds, before we all went to bed ahead of our jungle trip the following day.

We awoke the following morning to torrential rain. Luckily it cleared as we headed out to get a taxi to the airport. Having thought that getting a taxi would be easy at that time, we ended up running around for 20 minutes like headless chickens trying to flag one down. Eventually we did and it was a complete pile of junk. No seat belts, a broken Speedo, no wing mirrors and the wobbliest steering wheel I’d ever seen. I valiantly took the front seat – normally a win for the leg room but in this case I felt like I’d end up through the windscreen if we had to brake suddenly (not that the brakes would be good enough for that). We flew up the road to the airport and I was seriously glad we arrived in one piece.

Before we knew it we were through security and waiting to get on the short flight to Rurrenbaraque, the gateway town to the jungle. We were all boarding the flight when we got told to go back to the gate again as the flight was delayed due to bad weather. Settling in for what we thought was a forty minute wait, we then got told to board again as the weather had suddenly cleared the far end and they wanted to get us airborne ASAP. We’d heard that this could happen and that flights were frequently delayed due to bad jungle weather, so we hoped our flight would get out second time around. Luckily it did and we had a quick and good hop across the mountains, emerging from the clouds thirty minutes later to dark green treetops and brown rivers flowing below us. The shuttle bus to the terminal was most amusing – basically a minibus down a waterlogged and muddy jungle track – and the terminal was essentially just a glorified shack, but our bags were there in minutes and we hopped in another taxi – this one with just a cracked windscreen so positively brand new in comparison to our earlier one – and soon were at our hostel.

We spent the afternoon relaxing in the hammocks reading our books as the rain came down in buckets. It was a huge downpour, so strong it was making the mangoes fall off the trees above us and slap down onto the ground. Luckily no one got hit on the head; they would definitely have left a good lump! Soon we were all fast asleep, rocked by the gentle back and forth of the hammocks in the breeze. It was also the first time Hoff and I had been at something close to sea level for weeks so we could sleep easy for once. Groggily we all went out to get a pizza that evening and with full bellies and for once not suffering from the altitude, we slept like logs despite the night time thunderstorms and mosquitos.

After yet another breakfast of, yup, you’ve guessed it, eggs and bread, we grabbed all our gear and walked through the rain to our tour company. We’d spent the afternoon before walking around a few companies to see who would do us the best deal. It was clear that they were keen for our business – not only was it the slow rainy part of the season, but the wider issues in Bolivia were taking their toll. We’d been told to expect another three people on our tour but rocked up to find out it was only us. The other three had mysteriously all ended up in the hospital with tummy bugs. It sounded too convenient and we suspected it was a ploy by the tout company to get us to go with them over another business, but we’d already paid and we therefore had a private tour for the three of us, so we weren’t that annoyed. Just before we set off, Hoff had the brilliant last minute idea to nip across the road into a small shop to buy us some red wine and Doritos. At 8.30am it seemed a weird purchase, but in the next few days we’d savour the cheap plonk and cheesy goodness, and hold Hoff in high esteem for her inspired purchasing decision that early morning.

Up next – we make our up river to our jungle lodge and get savaged by mosquitoes, try to catch and anaconda, and go fishing for piranhas.

Every so often we need an admin day to sort our route, get bus tickets and the most important thing…do laundry! We are becoming very bored with our clothes now as we are wearing the same stuff all the time but at least when they’re clean it’s a bit better! Alex needed to get his walking boots fixed as well. The repair was amazing as it was done on a sewing machine that was turned by hand. They were both then polished and came out looking brand new! The owner gave Alex a 12 month warranty card which we thought was hilarious but very nice of them.

We had arranged to meet up with some our walking group for coffee. Alex also devoured some lemon cake as he decided he needed the calories. We sorted our bus to Puno for the next morning and then yet again did a walking tour. Only this one was rubbish. The first hour was spent in the market showing us fruits. We bailed early and even though we gave a tip to the guide he seemed very miffed. That night lots of people from the walking tour met at a vegan restaurant that came highly recommended. The food was good but service was awful. We waited 80 minutes for our glass of wine to arrive (not that I was timing it or anything!)

I was very sad to leave national geographic on tv and our enormous bed but our southern journey continued to Puno and Lake Titicaca. We took a bus with Cruz del sur and it was SO comfortable. We even got a tv each and could watch films. I watched Kung fu panda 3 in Spanish! In Puno, our hostel room was big but the curtains were a waste of time. Why can’t hostels put up curtains that work?! We decided to do an all day tour of the lake as the shorter ones were only 2 hours which didn’t seem enough. With hindsight 2 hours would have been plenty! I was feeling a bit ropey and had a sore throat so scrambled to find the fist defence and vicks! That night alex was back to suffering from altitude insomnia so didn’t get any sleep. On the plus side my throat was better.

The next morning we heard what appeared to be chanting and potentially protesting at 545. Slightly apprehensive, following all the riots in Bolivia, we were relieved to see it was the police running around the town doing some training. Why they have to start before 6am on a Saturday we had no idea. After breakfast we were picked up and taken to our ‘speed boat’. Less of the speed when describing the boat. We stopped off at the floating islands and were shown how the islands are made using the reeds. Members of the island then grabbed different tourists to show them their hut and then their items for sale. It was all quite cringe and not really our thing but we were amazed by their huts. The structure and woven reeds were so impressive. We then had to endure a 2 hour boat ride to another island for lunch. I fell asleep! The lunch was an exceptionally dry omelette with rice and boiled potatoes. Luckily we had bought some ritz biscuits. They are our favourite snack out here as salty not sweet and so we feel better for us! It was another 2 and a bit hours back to the port. With 30 mins to go the heavens opened and there was torrential rain and thunder and lightning all around us. The roads were flooded within minutes and we got told to run to the bus. We bought our bus ticket to la paz for the next day and walked home through the markets in the drizzle wondering what we were walking through as the floor was covered in market bits!

Arriving near our hostel we could hear a band. We were then met with the most bizarre scene. Men and women dressed up in suits and ladies equivalent were dancing along the street and had these rattles they would shake above their heads. In between the dancers were different bands. We have no idea what it was for but it was great to watch. Feeling in need of some comfort food I had spaghetti carbonara and Alex had the biggest calzone we’d ever seen! We saved half for lunch the next day! We popped into the pharmacy to see if they had anything to help Alex sleep. They suggested some vicks sleeping tablets which seemed to help although I did wake up at 2am to find the tv on and wolves and bears on the screen….national geographic again and Alex couldn’t sleep!

The next morning we filled up on free breakfast and also made a couple of marmite sarnies for the road! We were heading to La Paz in Bolivia and we were extra excited as Anna Slemmings/Ward was flying out to join us on our travels the next day. We had 2 bus journeys ahead of us. One across the border to Copacabana and then a mini bus to La Paz. On the way to Copacabana we watched the last episode of the west wing. It was pretty traumatising as we had been watching it for months. Now we had to find a new series! The border was chaotic as there were no barriers, just a continuation of the road and so people were just crossing back and forth. After getting the required stamps we were on our way. The second bus to La Paz saw us drive through small towns with evidence of the recent riots. Burnt out cars and graffiti everywhere. We arrived in La Paz at rush hour and it was crazy. About 4 cars trying to drive down one lane with no one wanting to give way. A short taxi ride later we made our hostel. Whilst looking pretty dodgy from the outside the inside was very pleasant and we were glad to have a shower and flop into our comfy bed.

The next morning we awoke to a much cooler but very misty view. The rain had done its job overnight and there were huge puddles everywhere. The wind had also blown open our door, which was a blessing in disguise as the person we were sharing our room with had very smelly feet. We were glad to get out of the room and down to breakfast, which also saw us saying goodbye to the mule drivers as our bags where going by road from here. We wolfed down the usual bread and coffee before getting on the road.

Today’s walk was relatively easy. We spent the first part trekking down a mud track that was exceptionally wet given the night’s rain. Then we followed along a small path next to the river heading down the valley. Hoff had to find a couple of hiding places to go for a wee along the way, which wasn’t easy as there were lots of people and not many places to go! We passed a big group of cows cooling off in the waterfalls and then spent half an hour playing on a cable car over the river, which got a bit boring after a while but everyone wanted a go so we had to wait, sweating as the sun got higher. At last we came to what looked like a lunch area, where we were told that we’d finished our walking for the day and had the rest of the day off. This was a bit of a surprise as we’d prepared ourselves for a long day of trekking, but we all piled into a minibus and wound our way further down the valley, dodging big cliff edges and fording rivers on the way.

After lunch, which was the usual feast of soup and then rice and chicken, we drove on to our final stop. Lots of people fell asleep on the way but I spent the time looking out the window, enjoying the views and trying not to look down over the edge into what had developed into a deep canyon. Eventually we arrived at our camp for the night. It was a load of tents situated underneath a free standing structure. Each couple had their own tent along with foam mattresses and they actually made for comfortable accommodation. Once we’d dropped off our kit we all jumped back on the bus to the local hot springs. It was nice to rest our muscles after three days of trekking, but the heavens soon opened and we were back on the bus in the pouring rain, heading back to the campsite for dinner. We’d been told that there was a bit of a party that night as well, and after food we were introduced to the local Inca tequila. It was disgusting but we drank it anyway, and before we knew it everyone was dancing away by a campfire which was conveniently underneath another free standing roof, so we all stayed dry. We called it a night around 11pm, which was late for us, and went to bed even more tired than we had been when we arrived.

The next morning there were a few sore heads about and we had 22km to walk to the town just below Manchu Picchu. Stinking of bonfire, we set off, and Hoff and I walked with an American guy called John, and we stormed along ahead of the others in the group. We were all so fast that we ended up at the lunch spot two hours early and had to sit twiddling our thumbs before some of the other group, who had gone off zip lining, rocked up. We wolfed down lunch – which for me included another altitude induced nosebleed – and then got back on the road. This time we followed the train tracks for 8km to the local town of Aguas Caliente, or hot waters in Spanish. It was fun following the tracks and avoiding the trains that ran to and from the town, and we also got a coin momento by putting a 50c piece on the tracks and getting the train to flatten it as it went past.

I must admit that I was glad as we walked into the town and our hostel. We were all getting pretty tired and the rain was starting again. We collected our bags from the train station and all got showered, and then had a last supper as a group where we said bye to all the guides as well. We’d had a great time on the trek but one of the things that we didn’t like was that the guides badgered us for tips. Tonight was the same and sadly the evening ended weirdly as the guides made it clear that we hadn’t tipped them enough. We all left before it got too awkward and it left a bit of a sour taste after what had been an excellent few days. Regardless, we got into bed knowing we had a lie in; as we were climbing higher up the hill then everyone else, we had a later entry time stamp and would be leaving a few hours later.

At 7am the next morning we awoke to sheet rain. It was miserable and we began our walk up to Machu Picchu somewhat reluctantly. It was also oppressively hot so soon we were drenched in sweat under our raincoats. The climb was a never ending set of stairs and we got to the top pretty hot and bothered. It was much cooler there and we soon began to get cold, but we had to go and meet the rest of the group who were waiting for us to start the tour. The tour ended up being a bit of a waste of time as there was so much cloud we couldn’t see anything. Luckily we cut away early to climb Huayna Picchu, the sacred extra mountain just next to MP. This climb was brutally steep and soon we decided to put our wet clothes from earlier back on as we were sweating again (we’d taken them off to try and keep warm and dry). The climb was worth it though as we were rewarded with great views back down over the main MP village, and as fewer people are allowed to climb the extra loopmeach day, it was less crowded.

When we got back down to MP the cloud had finally lifted and it was sunny and dry, so we spent some time wandering sound the ruins taking pictures. Many people say MP is one of the most amazing things they’ve ever seen. It was very impressive but I’d say no more impressive then some of the huge citadels and castles that were being built in Europe at the same time in history. Nevertheless it was fun walking around and seeing how they lived, and we were glad we’d hiked up to see it.

Or so we thought. In this case, what goes up must come down, and the hike back down the slippery staircase was brutal. My knees had all but given up by this point and Hoff had to cagoule me down; the crunching was making me feel a bit sick. Eventually we made it back to the town but we were well and truly done with walking so we changed out of our wet clothes and grabbed a pizza with some of the rest of the group who were waiting for transport back to Cusco. Some were getting the bus and others, like us, were getting a late train. We then wandered around the local artisanal markets – aka markets for cheap tourist tat – before grabbing a cake and coffee ahead of the train.

The train ride itself was fun but we didn’t really see much as it was dark by the time we pulled out of the station. Hoff was soon asleep, and I followed suit, and we woke up a few hours later as the train pulled into the final stop. We sheepishly grabbed our stuff and jumped onto the bus that was waiting to take us back to Cusco, and in the transfer process Hoff lost her beloved visor. It had been with her through thick and thin – including her marathon and ultra marathon – so she was rightly annoyed and upset, but we couldn’t hold up the bus any longer so we reluctantly abandoned the search and got on the road to Cusco. Once there we checked back into our wonderful hotel again and after long hot showers, sank into the massive fluffy bed watching National Geographic and nursing sore feet. We thankfully had a few days of rest ahead of us here before moving on and with no alarm for once we looked forward to a good night of sleep.

Up next – Hoff takes you through the start of our journey south to Bolivia and to see our first familiar face!

Hoff was going to be writing this part but she has lots of Christmas shopping to do online, so you’ve got me again folks!

I left you as we were about to get our bus to Cusco from Arequipa. We were back on the Peru Hop bus as we’d already booked and paid for this leg. Another early start and then around ten hours heading north, climbing up to around 3500 metres. We were pretty stiff by the time we got there – lots of walking in the previous days meant we needed the break but at the same time we were now bored of buses. We got in quite late but luckily the bus company arranged a taxi for us to our hotel. For Cusco we splashed out and got a boutique place with a huge bed and swish amenities. We needed a good night’s sleep but also somewhere to store our bags for the five day trek we had ahead of us (and somewhere nice to stay afterwards as well).

After dropping our bags we swiftly headed off to a nearby hotel to meet the rest of our tour group and have the tour brief. Then we wolfed a pizza and tried to get some sleep before yet another 0400 alarm.

The next day we were awake before our alarms, as usual. I was still finding it really hard to sleep at altitude, something that would continue until we finally dropped down onto the plains in Chile weeks later (a story for another blog). We grabbed our kit and jumped on the bus that would take us to the start point. After a stop off for breakfast we slung our packs over our shoulders, and following a quick hello chat from our guide, we stepped off on the first part of our trek. It was a relatively easy 11km to the first overnight stop and we took the time to chat to our fellow hikers. We’d be living with them for the next five days so it was good to get to know them.

Very soon we arrived at our first camp. Each couple or two person group had their own what can only be described as human sized dog kennel to sleep in. They were perfectly comfortable though and once we’d rolled out our sleeping bags and set up our little portable lights, we felt very at home. After a massive lunch cooked by the chefs accompanying us, we walked up to the lagoon above our camp. It was a steep climb but the views were amazing at the top. We even saw an avalanche on the mountain above us which was both impressive and scary at the same time. They are incredibly noisy and powerful, and quite a sight to behold. We made our way back down to camp and had tea – a huge plate of popcorn accompanied by hot chocolate or coca tea (for the altitude). No sooner had we finished that and we were served dinner, which was massive. We were all hungry but still couldn’t finish it all. After dinner the cooks came out and introduced themselves, and they did a local dance accompanied by ‘willing’ volunteers from our group. Hoff was one of them and it was hilarious to see her jumping around to crazy Peruvian music. She was still really full from dinner so felt pretty queasy after it (check out our Instagram for a video of the dancing). It soon got dark and we all needed to sleep – the early morning, walking in the fresh air and another early start the next day meant we needed our rest. I got another altitude induced nose bleed (surprise surprise) but once we were in our sleeping bags we felt sure we’d get a good night of kip.

We were wrong. The altitude (4250m) and the cold meant that we slept fitfully and when our alarms went off we could hardly say we were refreshed nor looking forward to 22km of walking, much of it uphill. However, after a cup of Coca tea brought to us by the chefs and then a massive breakfast and coffee, we felt a bit better. We strapped on our walking boots again and started the climb to the pass. At 4600m it would be the highest part of the trip. It only took a couple of hours but it was hard climbing most of the way. However the views were amazing and totally worth the hard work. We took lots of photos and lapped up the sunshine – the clouds cleared just enough for us to warm up a bit. We also managed to get a glance of another lagoon and could also hear the rocks falling on the cliff side opposite us. It was all pretty surreal.

We started the climb down and almost immediately the terrain and the weather changed. It started to warm up and rain as we descend into the cloud forest. The hills become stepper and more luscious, and soon we were being assaulted by mosquitos. A quick stop for lunch brought a brief respite from the bites and the wet, but we still had 9km ahead of us. We were pretty soaked as we got nearer to the day two camping spot but luckily the sun came out for just long enough to dry us out a bit. We were some of the first from our group to arrive and we found we’d be in three or four person dorms for the night, complete with bunk beds, which was a nice sunrise. We grabbed a cold shower, which was lovely and refreshing, then bought a well earned beer which we enjoyed whilst reading our kindles as we waited for the rest of the group to arrive.

Another huge tea followed by heaps of supper meant we were ready for bed. That night we slept much better, apart from around 30 mins in the middle of the night where we were woken up by a huge thunderstorm. The rain was the hardest we’d ever heard and as it hit the tin roof above us it sounded like thousands of drummers banging as hard as they could right by our heads. It did cool things off though and kept the mossies at bay which was a positive. We fell back to sleep, regenerating our energy for day three of the Salkantay trail.

Up next – we trek on towards Machu Picchu, avoiding cows, dogs and the odd falling avocado!

Our alarms went off almost as soon as we’d gone to bed and before we knew it we were in a minibus winding our way north towards Colca Canyon. The road is incredibly windy and Hoff soon wasn’t feeling too well with all the curves. Breakfast perked her up a bit but others in our group were also feeling the effects of both the altitude and the road, and a few were sick. I bet they weren’t looking forward to two days of walking! We finally made it to our drop off, via a viewpoint where we watched a couple of condors riding the thermals and purchased a couple of ‘genuine’ llama items of clothing from a roadside vendor.

The route for the first day was essentially all down hill. It sounded like a relatively easy 17km – 11 before lunch and 6 afterwards – but we were soon sweating away as we descended into the second deepest canyon in the world. The going was tough on knees and lungs, and the rocky path meant that we were constantly slipping and loosing our footing. The drops were big so it was sketchy in places, and we were pretty pleased to reach the river at the bottom after a good couple of hours of hard graft. There we ended up having to wait for an hour as one of our group was carrying an injury and was very slow. They finally arrived, just as water and snack supplies were running low, and we hastily made for our lunch spot to recharge and refuel.

Lunch was the usual quinoa vegetable soup combo followed by alpaca mince, which was actually pretty tasty. We got ripped off for a bottle of water – they had a monopoly and plenty of thirsty hikers desperate for hydration – then got on our way to the oasis that was to be our overnight stop. Our guide stopped every few minutes to show us a new plant. Most were used medicinally by the locals; some more recreationally! Apparently there is only one doctor for all the the local villages and the nearest hospital was back in La Paz so a lot of self medication goes on!

It was a relatively easy hike and we were soon at our hostel. It wasn’t the most glamorous of abodes – our room was essentially a bed in a mud shack and we ate dinner underneath a tarpaulin lean too type shelter, but we were all hungry and thirsty, and tired after the day of walking, so aided with a beer we all got an early night, as we had yet another early morning the next day.

At 0345 the next day we were dragging ourselves out of bed and into our sweaty clothes again to start the hike back up the canyon. As the saying goes when canyon hiking, what goes down must come up and we had a 7km uphill slog ahead of us. The plan was to get it done before the sun came up and made the climb unbearable, hence the early start. We were soon puffing away and the hillside was a crocodile of other groups also making their ways back up to the top. Some of our group shot off ahead of us but we decided to play the slow and steady card, and we soon caught them all further up the hill. A tough, thing burning couple of hours later and we emerged at the top, group winners (not that that matters really but the strategy paid off). The views were pretty special as the sun was just coming up, but we were too hungry for breakfast to stay for long. We grabbed a piece of banana cake from an entrepreneurial local who had set up shop at the top and who was doing a roaring trade in energy drinks and chocolate bars, then went into town to get a proper meal.

The sun was now beating down and after the usual eggs and coffee that is the staple Peruvian breakfast, it was back on the bus to Arequipa. As is the way with coach rides, pretty soon every one was nodding off, and, save for a quick stop off to take some photos at a high spot viewpoint on the way back (at 4,600m), we were soon back in the city. We checked into our hotel again and went out for a pasta supper – carb reloading – then went back to pack our bags for yet another early get up. Our bus to Cusco was leaving early the next day and we’d be up in darkness once more to continue our trip south. Cusco was to be our base for the next trekking adventure – the Salkantay trail to Machu Picchu – but I’ll hand you over to Hoff again for the first part of that.