Friday 13th May:

Another early start, a 5am pick up, and we're in plenty of time for our 13th flight, Santiago to São Paulo. Decided to watch the film " Los 33", the story of the Chilean mine disaster, and as a true story I found it quite moving. The location of the mine, Copiapo, is roughly half way between Calama and Santiago, still in the Atacama desert. The mine was a gold and copper mine, and all the 33 miners were saved after spending 69 days trapped underground.

Thursday 12th May:

And so we come to the end of our South American travels, it was a long time in the Genesis, over 15 months, and will have cost us nearly £30,000, fortunately a large part coming from our belated compensation from the Equitable Life debacle. In fact it has cost us more than we paid for the house we currently live in, albeit that's was over 37 years ago, just don't tell the children, it's their inheritance we're squandering.

For the first time it also feels a bit like it used to, the end of a holiday and having to face up to going back to work. Ahead of us lies the delight of twin granddaughters, two 90th birthday celebrations, the decline of brother Philip, the hosting of two Nepalese visitors, the organisation of the County Show, and getting back on the bike in readiness for another 100 mile Ride London, and if Lee gets his finger out, maybe a five day cycle in Ireland. I've omitted anything to do with rugby, because although Tigers are in the play-offs for the 12th successive year, they play away at Saracens next Saturday, and we don't plan on going; I think it is unlikely they will make the final, and even if they do we have no plans to go to Twickenham this year.

Hopefully this blog will get similar treatment to my Mongolia travelogue, and I will produce another. I'm excited because it seems extracts from the Mongolia travelogue are to be published in Rutland Living, courtesy of Amander Meade, who knows maybe I could become their travel writer, plenty of adventures could have similar treatment.

So what are the highlights after five weeks, so much seen and so much variety, and even causing a little consternation having not been in communication after the Ecuador earthquake. Ecuador was a delight, and I especially enjoyed the time at Hacienda Zuleta, and finding a horse I could ride.

After that the Galapagos, not at all as expected, where were the giant tortoises waiting to greet us as we clambered off the zodiac, where were all the colourful birds, but nonetheless a wonderful time with 14 other likeminded individuals on board the Sea Star Journey with Mira.

Peru had so much to offer, not least meeting up with Robert and Barbara in Lima during their world tour. The condors of the stunning Colca Canyon, flying around in front of us for an hour or so, eventually a flight over the Nasca Lines on the clearest of days, watching the sun rise over the citadel at Macchu Pichu, travelling through the Sacred Valley, the colonial cities of Arequipa and Cusco, and the unforgettable train journey from Cusco to Puno, even finding out that Leicester City had won the league before arriving at our destination.

Then Lake Titicaca, a combination of tacky commercialism and serenely traditional villages and scenery, before crossing into the poorest of countries visited, Bolivia. La Paz was chaotic, with neither pedestrians or traffic willing to give an inch, but where we learnt a lot through our very knowledgable and talkative guide Ivar. The Uyuni Salt Flats has to be up there as a highlight even if the blinding glare did give me the mother of all headaches on the second day. Difficult to describe the feeling of vastness and emptiness of the flats, the largest in the world, and the silliness it inspires in photographers, with our guide and driver taking control of the camera as we struck poses on the salt.

The twelve hour drive across the altiplano into Chile was also memorable not only for the spectacular scenery, but for the numbingly cold wind that blew most of the day, preventing more photography. The lonely Bolivian immigration outpost before the more civilised and expensive Chile. The Alto Atacama hotel, last of a long list of hotels, but for my money the best, the only downside being the dreadful coffee, come back Costa all is forgiven.

We need not forget all the lovely people we have met on the journey, a long list, and with a number of surprises included, Andy & Jill in a Lima hotel (Mongolia), David & Marion in a Cusco restaurant (Istanbul to Dubai cruise), John & Margaret in a Aguas Calientes hotel (friends of Graeme & Pam Boothman) set the challenge of finding us and succeeding, notwithstanding Fred from Perth. One of the joys of our travels is meeting other likeminded people and socialising with them. The 16 people on the Galapagos boat really gelled, Brits, Americans, Aussies and a Swiss couple. Orgi, the young architect from Macedonia, Wolf, Daniel & Susie, the three Germans spending years plus on the road; interestingly we definitely kept up with them, and had a few extras up our sleeves. All provided great company for the two of us travelling on our own itinerary.

Quite a few people we bumped into two or three times as itineraries crossed, even the Japanese mother and daughter on the Puno train who popped up in the Luna Salada, and said hello, they recognised up, rather than the other way round. Who could forget the evening in Huatajata, the only guests in the hotel, outnumbered by the band who did a few numbers and then buggered off. The ride into La Paz was a real eye opener, and I hope the road is eventually finished and some order can be restored to the folk that live along the way.

One observation, not just in South America, but in many less developed countries, is the volume of commerce conducted on the kerbside, on this trip more so in Bolivia, difficult to walk the street without falling over the ladies in their multiple skirts and bowler hats, selling everything from trinkets, to blankets, to llama foetuses. The train to Puno as it passed, literally, through the market in the contraband town of Juliaca.

Travel went fine today and the flight from Calamari arrived in Santiago in time. Our guide recommended a restaurant close to our hotel, where we ate virtually as soon as we arrived, Bocanariz, more a wine bar with food to compliment, as opposed to a restaurant with wine to compliment.

Wednesday 11th May:

Our last day of touring, tomorrow we start the long journey home, but today a couple of tours organised through the hotel. A morning jaunt to see some petroglyphs, or alternatively, ancient graffiti. The morning clears up and at last we can see the spectacular colours of the desert, even better at the second venue of the morning tour, Rainbow Valley. The strata and the range of colours are beautiful, from the green of copper and chlorides through to the deep reds. A very pleasant stroll snapping away. Our companions for the tour are Strat and Catherine from Sydney, Australia, inveterate travellers but who have never been to the UK, wow!

A lazy lunch at a very empty hotel, it is the low season here after all, and then an afternoon tour again with the Aussies but also with newlyweds from Lomdon, Susie and Daniel. A short stop in a relatively wealthy village named Tocanau, wealthy as many of the men work in mining, mainly lithium which is mined at the southern end of the Salar de Atacama. And then on to the Salar to see the flamingoes and the sunset. Both are great, there are a lot of flamingoes, but just too far away to get any really good shots, and the sunset is good, but not anywhere near last night's surreal experience.

On our way to the Salar we pass Alma, the international astronomical research station out in the Atacama due to the clear skies, low humidity and elevation, a great place to gaze at the stars with giant telescopes. Margarite told us yesterday that they are not allowed alcohol up there and do long stints there, some calling it Almatraz!

The Salar is very different to Uyuij's very flat surface, this one in the Atacama being just the opposite, a very rough, almost ploughed looking surface with a white salt crust covering the entire area. There are several lagoons where the flamingoes congregate, but the pathways provided don't reach near enough.

Back to hotel for one last Pisco Sour and dinner, very tasty, but I just wonder how much our bill is going to be here, getting in for £500 I suspect, a lovely but very expensive hotel.

Tuesday 10th May:

A great night's sleep in this wonderful hotel, the Alto Atacama, I think it may be the best one of the whole trip. Comfortably large room, large bed, crisp linen, great shower, beautiful views, good food and wonderful staff, and top Pisco Sours as well, what more is necessary.

A relaxed start, and Lily gets stuck into Travel Art, our agent in Chile in order to establish our itinerary, it comes eventually, but not after Lily staying in the phone saying, I'm staying on the phone until you send the email, and I receive it, bless her, wonderful.

And so we are being collected at 3pm for a trip to the Valley of the Moon, but beforehand we take the hotel shuttle into San Pedro de Atacama, the town about three kilometres away. We ask the driver, with some difficulty to collect us in "una hora", or one hour in English. The town is definitely backpacker land, and there is no one else that looks like us, I.e. old and grey. The town is comprised of hostels, bars and restaurants, and a thousand tour agencies all competing with one another to take  people into the desert.

After a pleasant coffee in the town square we wander back to our meeting point for the shuttle at 12.30pm. At 12.45pm we realise that he is not coming and has not understood the time we thought we had agreed. A taxi wants too much money so we start walking, which doesn't go down too well with Lorna. I am pretty sure about the directions, and we are strolling along, not quite sure what to do for the best, when the shuttle comes into view. I lay down in front of him and it's nearly 13.10pm, so even if he thought we meant 1pm, he would have been fifteen minutes late. Lorna is very unhappy, and lets him know, and also lets Pascal, the hotel Operations Manager know as well when we eventually get back. It's a misunderstanding I say.......

The afternoon gets off to an even worse start after Margarite, our Russian, English speaking guide in Chile takes us to the first stop of the tour. You need a torch, and the right clothing and footwear she explains, which goes down like a lead balloon with Lorna, and the shit really hits the fan when she explains that the walk into the salt cave is not suitable for "old" people. By the time we get back to the car, having foreshortened the cave walk, Lorna is hissing, and poor Margarite can't say right for saying wrong. In the end she says she said, "not suitable for ALL people", and I accept that that is what she could have said with her Russian pronounced English.

Lorna calls off a walk on sand and rock to the top of a large sand dune, saying that we have received no information about this tour, and although not the responsibility of the local agent, yes the tour had been sub-contracted by Travel Art, they should at least have provided torches.....

I scale the dune with Margarite and learn a little more about her. Unfortunately it's a cloudy day, and the stunning scenery is not at it's best, missing the light and shade that would accentuate it. Margarite is a geological and hydrological engineer from Rostov on the Don in Southern Russia, and gave up a desk job to travel, and is clearly fascinated by the geology of the Atacama.

Margarite asks me if I've been with Lorna all my life, no just the last 44 years I reply. She is amazed that people can stay together that long, her father disappeared when she was four, after five years of marriage. We chat quite a lot about this on our walk up the dune and also back in the car with Lorna, I hadn't realised we would be called on as marriage guidance counsellors on this trip. Margarite has a boyfriend, he's Chilean, but she isn't keen on marriage for obvious reasons, at 25 years old we wonder what she will do with her life after her travels.

We agree with Lorna that we will finish the tour, which is intended to end watching the sun set and the colours of the desert change as the sun goes down. Well the chances of a sunset with all the heavy cloud this afternoon seem slim to non-existent. We visit a couple more salty places and then drive up to the sunset view point. We'll probably the most fantastic sunset I've ever seen, starting in the west, even though we haven't seen the sun all afternoon, and then to everyone's amazement the volcanoes of the Andes in the east start to glow with an orange band, before lighting up completely in an orange aura, absolutely stunning. And then the sunset continues in the west as yellow turns to orange, turns to red, turns to violet, turns to purple......the afternoon is saved and we go back to the hotel happy bunnies. I had taken my tripod, and stood there snapping away.

Monday 9th May:

The joys of travelling with a quintessentially English lady. Whilst everyone else chooses brands such as Marmut, Rohan, Rab, The North Face, Mountain Equipment in which to travel the world, no one does it quite like Lorna. Kaleidoscope, and M&S are the preferred brands for this lady, and both locals and other travellers gaze in envy and shock respectively as Lorna breezes by. Out of over 2,000 people visiting Macchu Pichu, there was only one skirt to be seen, every other lady in trousers. When hiking a 5,000 meter volcano yesterday, the gasps were clearly audible when Lorna came into view, skirt rippling in the breeze, definitely one of a kind!

This was my post on Facebook as a tribute to my beautiful wife, after contemplating her achievements on this trip. Clad in her arresting skirts and armed with one or two trekking poles she has reached places where she didn't expect to reach, bravo.

Today has been one of the most scenic days drive I can remember, although with quite a lot of cloud cover and a bitingly cold wind across the Bolivian altiplano. The range of colours, the light and shade created by the clouds and the diversity of the terrain has been fantastic. Getting out and taking photographs has been challenging, as was having an alfresco lunch in the wind at 4,900 metres. Slightly disappointed we did not see more flamingoes and that the cold prevented us speanding more time photographing the ones we did see at Laguna Colorada.

The quick stroll through the geothermal area got some good images but could have got more with more time. We did set off later than planned to ensure that we got breakfast, 7.30am to be precise, and arrived at the fabulous Alto Atacama at 6.30pm, having added an hour back, now only four hours behind the UK.

We arrived at a very lonely Bolivian border post at 4.30pm to get our passports stamped, and to swap vehicles. Our pick up was clearly not our guide but just transport to the hotel in Chile via Chilean immigration. He spoke only "survivor" English by his own admission and left us with no details of further contacts.

It also meant that Eusebio and Cecilio had to do the return journey back to Uyuni, immediately after dropping us, probably a midnight arrival. Hopefully their good tips will be reward for a tough day's driving, mostly off-road. I gave Cecilio three of my last four 50B notes (£15), and Eusebio one 50B note plus $20, just a little bit more, but it was the driving that was the tough assignment today.

The first thing to note is that it is at least twice as expensive in Chile as in Bolivia, dinner costing around £55 for the two of us, could have had the all inclusive for £40 per head, all wine and drinks included if you want to drink that much that is.

Beautiful starry night and tried to get some night sky photographs, but too much light pollution to be successful.

Sunday 8th May:

A wholesome breakfast I decide, Lorna is not so sure. A 10am start means a leisurely start to the day and then off into the salt flats. But first a quick detour to visit the Mummies of Kaka. A number of mummified skeletons from circa 3,000 years ago, so very definitely pre-Inca. They are located in a cave and are visited mainly by tourists, but pre-tourist would have been visited by friends and relatives giving offerings of money, food, drink etc, on the basis that the dead could help the living get what they wished for.

And so we set off across the salt to visit  the Thunupa volcano, 90 minutes drive away. It's so small to start with that it seems it could be climbed in five to ten minutes. As we get closer Thunupa looks like a real volcano and Eusebio tells us it is over 5,000 metres, so 1,300 metres  and therefore more of a climb than Scafell Pike.

The plan is to drive up from the small village at the end he of the salt lake, dismount, and hike for 20 minutes or so to another cave containing more mummified remains. Lorna takes her pole and becomes a Trekker, and by the time we start our return she is at 2.3 blood sugar, but it's not a drama and we get back safely to the car before an injection, only the third of the trip so far, pretty good.

The cave has six mummies, and three are of royal descent, which is determined by the ceramic pottery beside them. Again this cave is more for tourists, but it's incredible to believe these bodies have lain here for over 3,000 years. They are a little worse for wear, but clothing and hair still exists, testament to the very low humidity here.

Lunch today is a picnic on the surface of the salt lake, but definitely nor haute cuisine. Stale bread, plastic ham and cheese, a tin of sweet corn, a tin of dice cold vegetables and some dry crackers. As well, by the end my head is thumping and it takes a few hours before it's clear again. We do manage a few more silly pictures before making it back to the hotel.

But it is clear enough to take the camera and tripod for another spectacular sunset, and I also find use for the time lapse feature on the brilliant little Panasonic camera.

Dinner is another international affair as we join three Germans, Wolf, Daniel and Susie.  Daniel and Susie have been travelling around the world for newly two years, and met Wolf in Patagonia, joined forces and have reached Uyuni. Wolf drives his own Land Rover Defender, and they wild camp as well as stay in hotels. Last night they had camped out on the salt, and taken a pretty mean picture of the stars above. Wolf has had his own internet businesses, and will return after finishing in Colombia and freighting his Defender home. Daniel and Susie a e also returning very soon, and I joke it will be time to get a job, Daniel does not look enthusiastic.

Saturday 7th May:

Just a week to go now, but hopefully finishing on a high as we head off to Uyuni. We leave from the highest international airport in the world, with the longest runway. The length is necessary to enable planes a higher take off speed in order to get the required lift in the thin air at 4,100 metres. Ivar gets us checked in at the airport and we're away early for the 50 minute flight. The great white expanse of the Salar de Uyuni dominates one side of the plane as we descend for landing.

We are collected by Eusebio our guide for the two days here, in fact he will accompany us to the Chilean border day after tomorrow. We leave straight away for our tour across the flats. I have trouble deciding which glasses to wear and settle on the polaroids in the car and my normal glasses outside. The whiteness is blinding, just like that experienced by skiers I'm sure.

We visit the house of one of many families who make a living from extracting and refining salt, each an individual concern, would have seemed more probable to have a cooperative. I buy a small bag of salt for B$1, not sure if it will make it home.

Then a tacky salt museum where there are a number of sculptures hewn from salt, which is much harder than I expected, rock hard in fact, not so difficult now to imagine a hotel built entirely from salt. Forty five minutes later we're at Incahausi Island, an island in the middle of the salt lake. It's covered with giant cactus and is like nothing I've ever seen before. I have the llama fillet, Lorna the llama burger, a much better choice, which I finish for her.

Eusebio is great fun and well used to taking the wacky photographs that everyone does our here on the salt flats. We complete a series and some are pretty good, especially after a little tweaking when we get back home.

We make for our hotel for the next two nights, the Luna Salada, the salt hotel, a large place made entirely from salt. It's fantastic with not only rooms and suites, which we somehow acquire, but with many beautifully decorated seating areas. It seems that our reservation did not make it to the hotel and Eusebio has to make a call to his office to confirm things. Anyway we end up with a double bed room suite, sadly the furthest room from the reception, and quite a trek to the dining room.

The hotel has definitely not been landscaped from the outside, but most definitely has on the inside, beautiful areas with very decorative soft furnishings, and loose salt on all the floors.

Eusebio and the driver have waited all afternoon for us for our sunset drive which is short, just back out on the salt, good job we left at 5.45pm and not 6pm or we would have missed it. The clouds makes for a memorable sunset with colours going from light yellow to crimson and so we take some more wacky pictures. I show Eusebio the 4K function on the camera and then get them to capture me leaping, and get some fun images, we must try this again in sunlight tomorrow.

After Lorna's prompt about sundowners, Eusebio has brought a bottle of Bolivian Merlot, and very tasty it is too. Complimenting this is a blanket and bag for us to keep, how thoughtful.

We join the rest of the guests, although the hotel is far from full, for a buffet dinner, one of the better ones I thought. We also invite Orgi to join us, we had passed him walking up the drive as we arrived earlier. Originally from Macedonia, and now working as an architect in Lubljana, Slovenia, he is between jobs and taking four weeks solo travel in South America, and by the sound of it having a great time.

We finish the evening in front of a large log fire, really cosy!

Friday 6th May:

Ivar Topics:
Education: parents in class, sex education, reading books, wife's parents, wife in Sweden, high divorce rate (67%), the influence of the Aymara and President Eva Morales, lithium & Samsung, football in Bolivia, the disabled protest, dried llama foetus, 1,000 metres valley, rich at bottom, poor at top, landslides and insurance and evacuation,

This morning a city tour with a difference, no churches. Our first stop is even further down to the bottom of the valley, in fact the valley is over 1,000 metres from top to bottom, not the 500 metres we thought yesterday. The bottom of course has a better climate and has spawned desirable housing complete with gardens and occupied by the richer inhabitants of La Paz. Ivar explains that the social strata of LaPaz can be determined by the height at which you live in the valley.

The higher you live, the poorer you are likely to be, because the cost of the land is that much less, and the reason the lands costs less is the risk of landslides. Originally the valley was covered in glaciers which over the millennia reduced at the end of the ice age. This has left areas of the valley at risk of landslides after the rains of the wet season. The city has engineers that monitor the situation in high risk areas and if necessary issue warnings, and the notification to evacuate, giving people just two weeks to remove all their belongings, and then leave themselves.

If the property is lost then the owner can claim compensation, as long as he can produce plans that have the official stamp of approval from the city surveyors department.

The fist stop is at an area called the Valley of the Moon, and where the erosion of the glacial residue is at its peak, leaving a series of stalagmites that are gradually being eroded, and in around 100 years will all be gone; they look like a miniature Bryce Canyon.

Our second stop is another wonderful city viewpoint, and overlooking the national soccer stadium. Ivar has been a semi professional footballer, and is generally unimpressed with Bolivian football; they need to be a team, not Lionel Messi and then others he complains.

A ride through the market area of the city completes the tour, and we walk back to the hotel as the disabled protest has now closed the road in front. There are a small but vocal group of disabled people plus their careers blocking this main road. They are campaigning for a state pension, or what we might call disability benefit. Knowledgeable as ever Ivar explains that it's simply unaffordable at £315M per annum, so where this might go is unclear.

Later in the afternoon we can see the chaos their protest is causing from the hotel terrace and I take some pictures, again impressed with the zoom capability of the Panasonic. Lunch is taken at a small restaurant around the corner from the hotel, and we also book for an evening meal at the top of the hotel across the road.

We pop round the corner for a coffee and across the Hotel Presidente, where Ivar has recommended the penthouse restaurant and book a table for the evening. When we go out in the evening the streets are heaving and Bolivians do not understand the concept of "give way", it's everyone for themselves, whether it's the road, or on the pavement.

The meal is very average, but the views of La Paz lit up at night surrounding the place are spectacular. The meal turns out to be cheaper than we think as a starter and a dessert are included in the price of the main course, just a shame we hadn't understood that before having a meagre starter.

Thursday 5th May:

We actually bump into some English folk at breakfast, but they had not stayed at the hotel, just dropped in having started the day in La Paz. Two more museums visited, one about the history of the region and the other about Thor Heyrdahl and his Ra II expedition in 1970? He had been trying to prove a connection between the Egyptian people and those of South America; he got as far as Barbados, but we met the son of the man who had originally helped Thor with the skills needed to build a boat from reeds. He posed for us by a slightly smaller replica of Ra II and then took three quid off us for three postcards. He also looked remarkably the Kallawaya that blessed our trip the previous evening.

And so into La Paz with Ivar, who was turning out to be about the best guide we have had so far. An educated man from an educated, and politically active family. He had worked for Crillon for over 15 years and had at one time been their Operations Manager, but now enjoyed life as a guide.

He told about his wife, his second wife in fact, she had been the daughter of parents who had also been politically active during the dictatorship of the 80s. The parents had been captured, tortured, and eventually given amnesty to emigrate to Sweden. As a baby Ivar's wife had been smuggled to the airport as her parents left for Sweden, and somehow managed to get aboard their aircraft and leave with them. She was 16 when her parents decided the time was politically right to return to Bolivia, against their daughter's wishes. Her parents remain traumatised by the experience to this day.

Ivar's parents wished for him to have a political career, but instead her chose the media and then into tourism. He said that there was rarely a family meal when politics was not discussed around the table. On a humorous note we got onto books and learnt that it is not natural for children in Bolivia to be brought up with books, the parents seldom read to them, not unlike Richard explained to us about children in Guatemala. Ivar said that getting a child to read is even used as a punishment, his own twelve year old son even crying when told he had to read. His own father however had brought Ivar up to cherish books and he'd learnt how to care for a book, fascinating stuff.

With the growing prosperity in Bolivia, from $150 to $500 dollars a month average wage, there is a growing middle class, and these people are buying cars, and then driving their cars out of the city, and as a consequence the road we were travelling on from Lake Titicaca was becoming increasingly congested, and so was undergoing redevelopment. Well it was mile after mile of dusty, bumpy congestion, especially as we approached the outskirts of the capital, the pictures tell their own story.

We reached the edge of the valley in which La Paz lies, at 4,100 metres, and stopped at a viewpoint to gaze at one of the most amazing views I think I have ever seen, the whole of the capital bathed in sunlight below us, and home to 2,000,000 people.

And so down into the chaos of the city, a seething mass of traffic and humanity. Bolivia has an enormous black economy, it would seem even larger than the formal economy. The roads are lined both sides by predominantly indigenous ladies selling most things imaginable,many a few that are not. In the market area the shops are also filled with all manner of smuggled goods from nut and bolts to freezers, sewing machines and furniture. Most of this comes from Asia and the brands of LG and Samsung are quite obvious. Ivar explains that at half the price of the kosher products, most La Pazenos are prepared to buy on the black market and waive any warranty.

Our room at La Casona is another dark room, and so we venture up onto the rooftop terrace to munch our packed lunch. We have a great view down the main Avienda, and it's warm in the sun, but cool in the shade.

Ivar has mentioned that later in the afternoon would be good to view the city from the top of the valley, as the sun sets, and so we organise a taxi to take us to the cable car terminus, and wait for us and take us back to the hotel, for a mere B$60 per hour. There are three cable car routes installed by an Austrian company, and they a fantastic, a great way for commuters to get comfortably and quickly into the city. Our round trip costs us the equivalent of £1.20. Unfortunately the mirador in the food hall recommended by Ivar has a largely obstructed view of the city. A large tree and one of the cable car towers prevents any chance of a spectacular panorama.

Having read the Lonely Planet warnings about the safety of La Paz at night we eat in the hotel restaurant, two courses and two drinks each for a very modest £28. It's the taxis that are the curse of the place with many unauthorised vehicles roaming the streets. Express mugging has become prevalent, although Ivar suggests that the police have clamped down, but it works like this. You get into an unauthorised taxi and then some others get in also, one pretending to be a plain clothes policeman and demands to see your passport and then demands money and PIN numbers before a ride to the nearest ATM.

Wednesday 4th May:

And so we come to the end of our two weeks in Peru, and are met by Abad our guide for the two and a half hour ride to the Bolivian border, mostly along the south west shore of Lake Titicaca. Another beautiful morning and the lake is serenely calm. Do we want to stop at a church or a local livestock market, we don't have too much time as we need to get to the border before all the coaches arrived, which can mean long queues at both Peruvian and Bolivian immigration.

We opt for the market, just five minutes but it reminds us of Kashgar, this one with just sheep and llamas. Once the animals are bought they have their legs tied and are bundled into and on top of rickety old vehicles for the drive to their new home. I take a few photographs but folk are not too keen, and one lady takes issue and lobs a stone at me, albeit with a smile on her face. Abad offers her a sol which she refuses, but he explains how we are important people and how tourism brings jobs to the area, perhaps even their children, there now that's told you.

Abad is good company and gives us quite a lot of information, including as we pass through how ten years ago the mayor of Ilave was murdered by a group of the towns people because they violently disagreed with a speech he was making. He also shows us in one town the houses with no windows used to process cocaine brought in from Bolivia. Is there any effort to bring this trace to a halt, no he replies everyone gets their share including the police. He says that his father explains anyone would be stupid not to accept money from the cartels, and that he would if he were a policeman, it would risk his life and that of his family if they did not take the money, and certainly if they tried to blow the whistle.

The border is as you might imagine in the westerns, dusty, languid, and with menacing guards and policemen loitering about the place. We get stamped out of Peru, stroll under the large stone archway and get stamped into Bolivia with the obligatory photograph taken by a large Peruvian logo, and a giant can of Cusquena, the beer we have been drinking for the last two weeks, nice.

We are met by Ivar our guide for the next couple of days and are bundled into an old bus and ten minutes later we are in Copacabana, the Bolivian version. This is apparently a place of pilgrimage, and the large church does justice to that. The church is a Franciscan order but is a place where the synchronicity of Catholicism and the ancient Inca belief in Pacha Mama (Mother Earth, or the Virgin Mother) are deeply intertwined.

Copacabana is very much a backpacker town, and we stroll down to the hydrofoil that will take us on our second tour of the lake, having been pulled forward a day due to our plan to not stay on Sun Island. We join a group of Pakistani Americans from Chicago on a day trip from La Paz. It's a bumpy ride out to Isla de Sol today as the hydrofoil rises and battles with a choppy lake. We get a taste of the climbing we would have had to do as we reach the island and negotiate a lot of rocky steps up to our lunch stop. Quinoa vegetable soup and grilled trout, the staple diet in these parts, not as good as the Taquile Island version, is served up.

And now the slightly surreal part of the day, back to the hydrofoil for a wave bouncing trip in excess of two hours for a short visit to another floating reed island, just one, and in the words of Raul, the other group's guide, "a living museum", or as I might describe it, "another attempt to extort money from tourists". Still, true to form the US contingent spend a good deal of money on the colourful blankets and so it must have been a successful trip. We loiter around at the back and take a few photographs, and don't part with a single Boliviarino.

And so on to Huatajata, our new stop for the night. We wave the US group, farewell as they leave on their bus to La Paz, and we check in. As it suggested on Trip Advisor, there is no noticeable internet here, we're too far from civilisation. Another thing noticeably missing at this hotel is other guests, and it's only as we go up to our comfortable, warm room do we see that the delayed Mexican tourists are arriving and checking in.

An unexpected bonus are the visits to the natural remedy museum and the observatory. The former has been lovingly created in an adobe building by the tour company and as we get to the end we meet a real live practitioner who blesses the remainder of our journey, nice. The observatory is similarly carefully created and after the introductory video, and in the dark, the whole roof rolls back to reveal the sky, rather like being at the Millenium Stadium when it stops raining. Unfortunately tonight there is quite a bit of cloud and the southern cross is largely obscured. The observatory has a large telescope donated by the US Astronomical Society, and on the condition that it is used not just for visitors to the hotel, but also for the benefit of local people including school children, nice.

Tuesday 3rd May:

Lake Titicaca, or Great Puma, as the Incas called it. The lake has the shape of a puma, although how the Incas knew this is not explained, only that when it was photographed from space by Yuri Gagarin, and the images sent to the folk here, even pre-Google Earth culture, could the shape be seen. The lake is some 170 kilometres long by 65 kilometres wide, at an altitude of 3,810 metres, and the highest navigable lake in the world.

Today, with a clear blue sky the lake is deep blue and on the far horizon you can see the snow capped peaks of Bolivia's Cordilliera Real. Our guide Vicky explained that there are theories that the lake was once connected to the sea, could have been the Atlantic, more likely the Pacific and over the millennia has gradually given up its salt which has flowed out via the only exit river to form the salt flats in Bolivia, the Salar de Uyuni which we will visit in due course.

[This theory is refuted tomorrow by Bolivian guide Raul]

The lake has five rivers feeding it, and the one exit river in the South East in Bolivia. This outlet accounts for only 5% of the loss, with evaporation accounting for the remaining 95%. It also acts as a massive moderating influence on the climate absorbing energy during the day and releasing it at night. Without out it no agriculture would be possible and the snow line in this region would be much lower than it is.

Enough of the geography and geology lesson, today we visited two islands, one, Uros, over-commercialised, and Taqulle, a beautifully serene island community who have embraced tourism, but not sold their soul to the sol. It appears that the tourism industry has invested in the Uros and their floating islands to prevent the decline of this culture. Adjacent to Puno is a large national park area where the reeds grow in the lake and we see a few boats with people harvesting the reeds.

We meet Alicia and her husband Billian?, he is president of this island community, one of 87 islands, and this one comprising eight families. With Billian's help Vicky explains how they create and maintain an island, and how the totora reed provides building material, as well as food, the white inner tasting like palm heart apparently, and keeping their teeth white.

It then gets worse, as we are ordered into one of their reed boats, the children sing to us in seven different languages and they take ten sol each off us for the five minute crossing to another shopping opportunity.

There are ten of us in the group, and the only other English are Ian & Jill, who we met on the train yesterday. Ian is a corporate animal having worked in senior marketing roles in British Airways as well as Asda-Walmart, and by the sound of it reported to Alan Leighton for some time there. Jill had worked for Mars between 2000 & 2003 in European marketing but did not know Richard Fisher. The few names that we both knew were Andy Weston-Webb, Mike Batt and David Fish. They now run their own business, a farm with a number of holiday cottages on the Wiltshire/Somerset border.

Then the best part of the day, our visit to Taquile Island, about an hour and a half boat ride across the lake. The community on this island act very much as a cooperative, and have embraced some limited tourism. The ten of is had lunch at a local restaurant, being served with the obligatory quinoa vegetable soup, and then grilled trout; both were delicious. The social structure here is demarcated by their clothing and their headgear, so single men, married men, and the same for the women can be determined. Apparently they also seldom marry outside the local community.

The women weave, the men knit, and calendars as well as histories can be read in the intricate belts that they make and wear. Lorna returns to the boat after lunch, whilst Ian, Jill and I take a hike, and it certainly gets the respiratory rate up. We are very pleasantly surprised to see a Peruvian owl, which stop for some time to pose for us. Our hike continues round the headland where we are picked up by our boat, but not before some concern that we have got lost. The views on our walk are stunning, the deep blue of the lake complimented by many Eucalyptus trees, and the green terraces of the local farmers. The visit to Taquile has been a delight, another little highlight.

On our return Vicky tells us that a representative of the Bolivian operator Crillon Tours will be meeting us to explain our transit from Peru into Bolivia tomorrow. It turns out that this was very beneficial because when I mention luggage she says that just an overnight bag will be required for the hotel on Isla de Sol. When I ask why she explains that there is a 45 minute uphill climb to get to the hotel. Lorna is horrified and says, No Way Jose, and so alternative plans are quickly and impressively hatched. We are to stay in Hautajata, at a hotel owned by Crillon; also our itinerary for the next two days will be amended so that we don't miss anything.

We spend the rest of the evening chatting to other couples at the hotel ending up having dinner with Stewart & Liz from Stafford, he's a part time GP and part time antique shop owner, and she's a doctor specialising in STDs, apparently it doesn't require any out of hours working. Stewart is also an author, writing a series about dogs, for dog lovers. Lorna and Stewart hit it off, and after failing to gain much traction in any of the conversations I hold my peace.

Monday 2nd May:

Where else at a quarter to eleven on a Monday morning can you singalong to Twist and Shout performed by a Peruvian windpipe group......answer on the Andean Explorer between Cusco and Puno. The Explorer left Cusco at 8am for it's ten hour trip across the Andes to Puno, and it's close to the lap of luxury, with all but the alcoholic drinks included. Comfy chairs and an observation car, open at the back for grabbing those all important scenic shots.

Although I could probably cycle faster, or if not me then David Graham, this is a great way to see the beautiful Andean countryside as well as a few towns, as the train follows the road most of the way, including across the altiplano.

We dawdle down to the observation car, swig a glass of Bucks Fizz and enjoy the folk show. They're good, and I am obviously a babe magnet as I get pulled up twice to participate in the proceedings, one a solemn offering to Pacha Mama in which I'm required to arrange three coca leaves, and kneel before the other travellers in supplication, and the second time to do some Grandad dancing with a masked babe. The musicians are pretty good and I even buy a CD, 40 soles.

We stop at the high point, La Raya, 4,310 metres ASL, and yes there's a craft market where we stop for ten minutes. It's in the middle of nowhere and they're all set up just for ten minutes, but then of course there's the train travelling the other way, so they get 20 minutes of sales. I'm sneaky, and with my 1,000mm of optical and digital zoom I get some good shots of the lady with the llama and the baby lamb, and it doesn't cost me a sol, yeah!

Back on the train and lunch is served three courses, almost with silver service and a considerate Chilean Merlot, and I've got to say, LG, Life is Good.

So where were you Grandad when Leicester won the Premiership? You'll never believe it but we were crossing the altiplano by train between Cusco and Puno in Southern Peru. Chelsea 2, Spurs 2, and that's all Leicester needed for the fairy tale to be completed, Spurs can no longer catch Leicester.

And so another sight to behold, on the outskirts of Puno, a town named Juliaca where the train track runs tight between a market, not just a few yards but at least a mile, and where after the train has passed by stallholders bring their awnings out again. I've seen pictures of this in India and Bangladesh, and that's exactly where this resembled, amazing. There were even ladies with their wares spread out between the rails, fruit, books, magazines.

Sunday 1st May:

Our guide said if you can see the stars tonight, then it will be clear in the morning. So I checked at 4.30am when I got up, and yes I could see stars, it bode well for seeing the sun rise over Macchu Pichu. An early bus got me to the entrance by 6.15am and I hiked up the route we took yesterday and found a location classically overlooking the citadel and waiting for the sun rise, I wasn't disappointed. Gradually the sun crept above the high ridge to the east and gradually the whole citadel lit up, with beautiful light and shade. Everyone took the obligatory photos of themselves posing in front of the view.

After that it was decision time, Wayne Pichu, or Sun Gate, I chose Sun Gate as it would afford better views of the citadel, and it was a walk and not a scramble that Wayne would be. It took an hour to get to Sun Gate, a good bracing walk with great views all the way, which included plenty of flora and fauna. There were many Inca Trail trekkers coming down, having completed their three night, four day hike from Ollantaytamtebo.

Half an hour and I'm back down at the entrance and the day's visitors are flooding in, it seems I've really lucked out, great weather, best time. It gets better as I get on the bus with just two other ladies, and it's off, we didn't have to wait for the bus to fill, probably as they need them all at the bottom to bring people up. Excellent, back in time to have a shower and a little more breakfast.

Lorna had done the orchid garden tour, and with the help of a personal guide, found many small and hidden blooms that she wouldn't have found by herself. The Inkaterra Hotel was a beautiful place, set in a tropical garden setting, just a shame we couldn't spend a few more day here.

And then amazing coincidence number three. We're sitting in the lounge waiting for lunch and a couple come in. He says, "Is your name Allan, yes I say, From Oakham, yes I say, From Glebe Way, yes I say, I'm afraid you have the better of me sir". He is John, she is Margaret and they are very good friends of Pam & Graeme Boothman. Lorna had sent our itinerary to Pam, and they had set John, a retired policeman like Graeme, the challenge of finding us during their trip. We took the photos as evidence of John's detective ability which Lorna sends off to Pam.

Not feeling great after the walk this morning, so just a light lunch before returning on the Vitstadome train to Poroy, just outside Cusco. Our table companions are a couple of ladies from Essex and Hunstanton who have completed the Inca Trail that morning, and are looking forward to a few beers that evening in Cusco. The train journey is livened by some folk dancing, and even a fashion show. Imagine this on British Rail, the stewards in each carriage doing a fashion show, of the latest knitwear, I think not. I'm convinced that the male steward is a Peruvian version of David Walliams, the ladies are not so sure, but he does have that air that DW has, but he does look embarrassed prancing up and down the carriage in Andean knitwear.

By the time we get back it's past 8pm and so we dine in before retiring for yet another early morning, and another train journey, ten hours across the altiplano to Puno. 

Saturday 30th April:

I haven't slept too well, Lorna hasn't slept too well, both somewhat apprehensive about our trip to Macchu Pichu. Lima Tours are on time as usual, and the ride over to Ollantaytambo station is uneventful.

We're travelling via Peru Rail in a Vistadome train, and luckily we get seats on the left hand side, or the interesting side, following the Urubamba river through the Sacred Valley.

The 100 minute rail journey ends at Aguas Calientas, or in good old English, Hot Springs. Luggage is whisked away to the hotel and we are shepherded to the bus that takes everyone up to the entrance. We are met by Reuben who is great and he gives Lorna the confidence she needs, especially as the first part is a series of large steps and switchbacks to get the first site of the citadel.

We spend a good couple of hours as Reuben relates the history of MP, as well as the orientation of the place. Wayne Pichu is the iconic mountain that can be climbed each day by two groups of 200 people; I have a ticket but begin to think that that might not be the best thing to do. It I is clearly a scramble as opposed to a walk, and will not provide the iconic photograph I want early tomorrow morning. The alternative is the Sun Gate, about an hour away and with the perfect view of the citadel as the sun rises.

It is clear that the Inca's were master architects, as Reuben demonstrates at various locations by means of his trusty compass. The building of the citadel commenced around 1450, and was evacuated some 75-80 years later, for reasons that are still uncertain. Was it the Spanish advance, or was it disease?

We make our way down and Lorna is elated that she has managed to get round the place, there is no doubt the walking poles have been a great confidence booster. Rueben reminds us that we are still in the low season at MP, and they get up to 2,500 visitors per day, but in the high season of July & August they can get up to 7,000 per day, a mind boggling 150-200 buses per day.

On our return to The Inkaterra Hotel, the best in town, we find we have been upgraded and have chalet No. 1, the closest to the lounge, the bar and the dining room, Lorna is elated again. The room is lovely, except for the running water outside, but even that can't prevent us sleeping in the very comfortable beds.

Dinner is included and we marvel at the service in the restaurant, probably the biggest waiter to diner ratio anywhere we have seen and that includes the cruise ships. In bed by 9pm, and I'm ready for a 4.30am alarm to get me up to the citadel again for sunrise.....

Friday 29th April:

Apparently 1.2 million people live in and around Cusco, including it seems 274 named Pablo Picasso hawking their art work to the tourists. When asked my name I volunteered Vincent van Goch, which I rather like. I don't think I've been anywhere, where there are so many hawkers, buy my paintings, let me give you a massage, eat in my restaurant, take a picture of me in my traditional costume holding a baby lamb, buy my jewellery, take a tour into the jungle with me, change some currency here, get stuffed at my taxidermists.

They are all reasonably pleasant, and do take no for an answer, except Pablo that is, but it is constant as soon as you leave the hotel.

Our man Mario was awake and in attendance by one minute to ten this morning. A couple of checks regarding timing and tickets and we're off for a half day tour. Gorichinka is the first stop, for this is where the sword was pushed into the earth, the navel in fact, the centre of the Inca universe here in Cusco.

There are a number of original walls and structures here that have stood the test of time, from around 1430 when the Incas arrived in Cusco. In fact they have survived at least three earthquakes and could have been laid yesterday. The precision of the architecture is the most amazing thing, the way they interlocked large blocks of rock with such primitive tools is truly amazing.

From there to the cathedral, as large and ornate church as I have seen anywhere and a match for some of the fabulous mosques we have seen on our travels. Unfortunately we were not allowed to take photographs, but suffice to say that this church was the centre of the Catholic faith in South America from the time of the Spanish conquest.

The final leg of our organised Cusco tours was out to Sacsayhuaman, another massive Inca ruin, and a site where the Inca kings could meet and celebrate. Again the architecture is stunning and with one piece of hewn rock weighing over 50 tons. Not many tourists can say Sacsayhuaman, so instead it has the mnemonic "Sexy Woman", much easier to remember.

We leave Mario with little more than the recommended tip, he hasn't been the best, and neither the worst, but was OK, and interestingly took quite an interest in us, where we came from and what we did. Lunch on the Plaza and a chat with Emma, a near 40 year old woman, ex Head of Finance for Crew Clothing, and now some way through a year out, good for her. Her scariest moment was in Pnomh Penh where she was both groped and robbed in the same day, but other than that has got on fine.

Later we stroll and Lorna does find it tiring, I just hope she will be able to enjoy Macchu Pichu but is looking forward to the Uyuni Salt Flats, the clue's in the name.

Amazing coincidence number two, we go back to the Inka Grill for dinner, and we're just about to be taken to seats upstairs when someone recognises Lorna's voice, none other than David & Marion Harris, who we cruised with between Istanbul & Dubai in 2011? So we join them and are saved from being next to a large noisy group upstairs.

They had also cruised again with Maureen & Alan, who told them how much they enjoyed their New Year's Eve with us, always good to get such feedback. They had started in Iguazu Falls and then crossed into Peru, spending some time in the jungle, very hot and extremely humid that said, all excellent reasons not to visit a jungle in my view.

As we stroll back to the hotel I find myself a little breathless, I hope I am not going to suffer that again, especially as this time I am taking the Mepredec which is supposed to avoid all this stuff, and it's Macchu Pichu tomorrow.



Thursday 28th April:

Nothing is ever quite how you imagine it. I imagined the Sacred Valley to be remote, largely deserted, with snow, rock and icy terrain, but no it's green and full of attractive little towns. The valley is deep with the mountains soaring up either side in spectacular fashion.

After a stop in the market town of Pisac we drive on for another hour and a half to Ollantaytambo. Lorna can't resist looking at jewellery and considers a bracelet for her mother, but nothing fits the bill, and she struggles to pull away. I buy a nice leather belt, but sadly when we get back to the hotel, it doesn't quite circumvent my waist, another marvellous purchase.

Ollantaytambo is the major Inca ruin in the valley, and was the only site where the Inca's defeated the Spanish Conquistadors, and where Manco Inca holed up until fleeing to the jungle stronghold of Vilcabamba. It was Vilcabamba in fact that Hiram Bingham was searching for in 1912 when her discovered the citadel of Macchu Pichu.

Mario, our guide, and I scale the terraced ruins and wonder at the size of the rocks and the precision with which they were hewn to create the temple at the top. The quarry from which the rocks originated could be seen six kilometres away on the other side of the valley. Apparently in a reconstruction some way back, a historical group established how many people it would take to move these giant rocks, fifteen for every ton of rock.

At the top of the ruin is a 60 ton rock, so simple maths suggests it would have required nearly 1,000 men to drag it across the valley and up to this location. Mario also explained that in the Inca culture work was the currency with which to feed and cloth oneself and one's family.

Whilst at the top, we can also see the station where we will catch the train for Aguas Calientas the day after tomorrow, so we have a good two hour drive, before a one and a half hour train journey.

And so onto the included lunch, and Lorna's heart sinks as we pull into a restaurant alongside a dozen other minibuses and a coach. Yes it's a buffet and a folk group, just like last night, but a little better. We pass on the guinea pig having heard people complain about how many little bones there are to get through before savouring what little meat there is in a guinea pig.

We return to Cusco admiring the scenery while our guide sleeps in the front of the van. I take a stroll around the centre later and book for a restaurant that we choose not to frequent, and instead eat at the Inka Grill on the main Plaza, an excellent meal with charming service, a good end to the day.

Wednesday 27th April:

We say farewell to Viktor and driver Henrique, we have tipped them well, and they deserved it, Henrique drove very considerately and Viktor was the perfect guide, knowledgeable, good English, and did not talk at us all the time.

The flight from Arequipa is one of the best, only an hour, but across the Andes with a cloudless sky for most of the way. I use the twatpad to take quite a few photos as we start on the dry side, cross the alti-plano, and then finish on the greener and much vallied side. With this great overview of the geography it is not too difficult to understand how Macchu Pichu was never discovered by the Spanish, as it was hidden away in such deep valleys.

Booked into to the superb Aranwa Hotel in Cusco, a restored colonial mansion, by 10.30am; it really has the most amazing bathroom, Hanna & Lucy would love it. We spend the late morning strolling around the main plazas, and low and behold come across a major festival we believe to be the Senor Torrechayo, patron saint of Urubamba, annual shindig. There's dancing, bands, fantastic costumes and has something to do with llamas, or maybe not. They do a full loop of the Plaza before disappearing up a steep side street. This is all accompanied by regular bangs of fire crackers being let off.

Lunch on the balcony of a cafe overlooking the square before shopping for a belt. Twenty soles seems reasonable for a woven belt, after a quotation of thirty; it should keep my reserve pair of walking trousers up for this trip.

Beware Greeks bearing gifts, it seems that Lima Tours still wanted to make a gesture following our feedback, so they booked us a complimentary meal and show at Tunupa. This is a cavernous place for large tour groups, complete with very average buffet, and average folk group. Lorna hated everything about it and ate just some dessert. I think I'm a bit more forgiving and just see these things as part of the great ebb and flow of travelling.

A nightcap, an Irish coffee, another mistake on my part, circa £10, and I leave half of it unfinished on the  bar. To make matters worse, I have a banging headache by midnight, will I ever learn.

Tuesday 26th April:

A return to Arequipa at a leisurely pace, and the four hours is as scenic as it was coming in the other direction two days ago. The wildlife is complimented this time by four young flamingoes, apparently you can tell they are young as they had turned pink yet.

One of the most noticeable features of Arequipa and most other towns and cities in Peru is the buildings, not the historic ones in the centres, but all the others, homes, shops, businesses in surrounding districts. They are all half built, just two stories, but with the steel reinforcing rods protruding from the various walls and pillars, in case additional stories are added at a later date. We're led to believe that when you build the first two stories attract much less tax than the third and additional stories, and so most buildings never get beyond two stories. It certainly ain't pretty to look at.

Good to be back at Casa Andina, it's a lovely hotel, with a beautiful airy courtyard full of tables and sofas and wifi of course. I call my Dad and he's pleased to hear from us, says he's spoken to Philip who was not really with it, which aligns with Hanna's comments the other day. It seems the tumour hasn't shrunk and there may well be another one. Philip did mention another visit to Charing Cross hospital, and further treatment may be considered, perhaps even immunotherapy, I not quite sure what means.

Dined tonight at a restaurant recommended by Tess, the Aussie lady next to us last night in Colca. La Trattoria del Monasteria is an Italian, and opens its doors at 7pm on the dot, if you're there early, then you have to wait outside, as we did. Excellent meal for both of us, which involved tiramisu and brownie and ice cream, shall I go on?

Monday 25th April:

We wake to frost on the ground and a temperature of 0 deg, and yet it doesn't feel that cold due to the low humidity. Another beautiful drive, this time to Condor Cross, to watch the condors gliding around on the morning thermals. We are not alone, but there's room for several hundred tourists comfortably.

We spend an hour clicking away, Lorna with her twatpad, me with the big Canon and my trusty 400mm, and a few on the Panasonic that can be posted on FB. Counting condor images later and it comes to well over 300, and some beauties from the Canon, shot at 1/1250 & 1/1600 handheld.

Viktor stops at several view points for us, as well as Maca, a tourist trap if ever there was one. For one sol you can have your picture take holding a cute, fluffy baby alpaca, just like Lorna did. Otherwise the same old stuff is sold at every stall by ladies in their traditional costumes. The real star of the show is the canyon though.

Viktor offers to take me on a two hour walk, but I prefer to explore on my own. I find the hot springs, each one around 37 deg, and there is a good line of folk making their way there as I return from the road bridge. Lorna is not feeling up to strolling round and stays and takes some sun.

This is a strange hotel, they haven't quite got it. I asked for a glass of Cava, sorry sir we don't have any, we asked for vanilla ice-cream, sorry we don't have any, and this morning we asked for some white bread to make toast, sorry but we don't have any. This evening I order a starter but Lorna doesn't, they bring my starter and Lorna's main course together; they try so hard to please but haven't quite got it.

This hotel and spa is in one of the most stunning locations it is possible to imagine, but being so far off the beaten track the supply line must be torturous and as the man said, it might be a week before we have any vanilla ice-cream.

Viktor it turns out has had back problems, in fact a career as a professional footballer in Lima was cut terribly short eleven years ago aged just 22 when he fell awkwardly and crushed a couple of vertebrae and had to have them fused. He says he has constant headaches even now and recently had to work with a group of tourists during a four day migraine, unimaginable! It also transpires he has had heart surgery as a child, you would never guess.

A very early night, reading on the bed by 8.30pm, asleep by 9pm for a good ten hours.

Sunday 24th April:

A fabulous drive out of a traffic clogged Arequipa, from 2,300 metres up to 4,910 metres with a stop for some coca tea along the way. Did it make any difference, well it certainly is a diuretic, and we had to clamber over some rocks at the high point to find a decent location to pee. We felt the effects of the altitude here that's for sure.

Lorna is amazed at the scenery, and being in the mountains, in fact we actually reach the snow line. Vicuña, alpaca and llamas are plentifully spread around the altiplano as we make our way to Colca Lodge, for a two night stay.

This is the best scenery so far this trip, magnificent volcanoes, green valleys and winding switch back roads, and plenty of wildlife on a terrain known as the Pampa. The llamas feed on a grass similar to the paramo we saw at altitude in Ecuador.

Our highest altitude today was higher than anything in Europe or North America, and as high as Tserko Ri, the last peak I climbed in the Himalayas.

Less fabulous today, is Tiger's demise at the hands of Racing 92, 16-19, although having read the write up the three point margin flatters somewhat. Less fabulous also was me tweaking my back, bending down to photograph a llama. Don't think it's too serious, and a very nice massage at the powerful hands of the diminutive Nancy eases it somewhat.

A decent dinner, this time included, but once again Lorna has alpaca, and it's like pork with less flavour; my Ossobuco is tender and tasty.

Saturday 23rd April:

Our first priority today is a FaceTime call to our birthday girl, Evie is seven on St. George's Day. She says hello and shows us her new iPad, oh dear, too young for such a fantastically useful device, and then disappears upstairs with friend Francesca. Martha seems more interested in us and is fascinated to see us on the screen, and gives us kisses.

Evie's party is at Oakham Studios with fourteen of them, thank goodness we're in Peru, I think I heard it's a Justin Beiber party, heavens, not the white boy who has appropriated black culture with his dreadlocks!

Lillian's collects us and she's delightful, and we chat about the presidential election run off which will be on June 5th as we a toiling away at the County Show. In Peru people up to the age of 63 are obliged to vote which Lilliana does not think works as too many people are not interested and do not research their vote properly. In the remote parts of the Andes, all a candidate has to do is turn up and promise a new pair of boots and the vote is assured.

Alongside every road we have travelled in Peru there is little traditional graffiti, it has been replaced, plastered giant size on every wall by the names of Keiko, and PPK, the two main contenders for the job. Keiko's father had been president some 20 or 30 years ago, and is now in jail for corruption. We joke that the usual career path for every successful politician in Peru, or maybe most South American countries, is region, congress, president, jail.

Fujimori senior however still has many followers as he was the man that ended the period of terrorism perpetrated by Luminos Senderos, or The Shining Path. He may have been corrupt, but he ended a very dark time for Peru. Unfortunately during his second term he got quite a taste for bumping off his opponents, this time political ones as well as terrorist ones.

And so we leave Lima, an ugly city, but with a very lively centre, where we met Robert & Barbara White for dinner last night. They are travelling in Peru having moored their boat in a marina close to the epicentre of the recent earthquake in Ecuador. They think it is undamaged but are unsure if the second quake may have caused a small tsunami which would cause damage. They are trying to contact the marina, but also recognise that their situation is nothing when compared to the people who live there, and in particular the manager of the marine who has lost his home.

Lilliana is a little embarrassed when we give her the bottle of wine left for us. She says she will let Lima Tours know that she has it, we say, no, no, don't do that, it's for you, we can't carry it, and even if we could I don't want to drink a bottle of wine.

We are met in Arequipa by Viktor, and it's straight into half a city tour, making sure we get to the view points before the sun goes down. We see immediately that Arequipa is a beautiful city, and is overlooked by two large volcanoes, El Misti and Chacani, substantial mountains at around 6,000 metres.

After checking into another Casa Andina, we complete the city tour, visiting the very large monastery and the The Plaza de Armas, which is heaving with locals and tourists, probably more backpackers than ageing Western tourists. A quick glance inside the Jesuit church and were left to make our own way back to the hotel. Lorna finds a restaurant called, Zig Zag which is No. 2 on Trip Advisor, but which leaves us underwhelmed, tough meat and not a lot of flavour, but the dessert, well quite devine and saves the evening.

My first Pisco Sour followed by a beer is not a great idea, and my head is banging when I wake up in the middle of the night. The Pisco Sour consists of Pisco (made from Peruvian grapes, and tastes a little like tequila) lemon juice, another spirit and the White of an egg, nom, nom, as Janet would say.

Friday 22nd April:

And so we move on, one bad day, followed by a very good day, just wish we could have stayed a little longer at Hacienda Bahia Paracas, a beautiful resort, and on a serenely still and warm morning, it was just delightful.

Erik collects us and we're off to the jetty for our boat ride out to Isla Ballestas. Whoever told me I should take a coat with a hood hadn't been out on such a morning, it was warm, calm, and protected especially at the front of the boat. The islands were alive with sea birds, as well as sea lions, a greater concentration than anywhere we had visited in the Galapagos. Grey footed boobies, red legged cormorants, little penguins, black oyster catchers, thousands and thousands of them.

The islands had at one time been a source of export income for Peru, shipping hundreds of thousands of tons of guano to the UK in exchange for debt. Back in the 1800s they determined that the guano had ten times the effect of dung fertilising farmland. Apparently the islands were meters deep in the shit, but the last shipment was in 2011, fewer birds coming to the islands as El Niño has warmed them and altered the birds' habits.

The islands are also a breeding ground for sea lions, with one beach housing hundreds of adults and calves, frolicking around in the surf. Back on terra firma we come clean with Erik, and explain why we were unhappy with the tour yesterday. He explains that there is a wrangle between Lima Tours and Buganvilla Tours regarding us having missed a museum yesterday, not sure how they found out, but Lima are asking for a refund from Buganvilla, oh dear.

Erik does not seem to be able to shake off the issue, as we explain that that was not our problem with the tour. Later on he even offers us the S/. 20 back that we coughed up for the extra visits he arranged, we of course refuse, but his English is not good enough for him to understand.

And so on to our overflight with Aerodiana, a very efficient outfit located at the new posh Pisco International Airport. Our pilot Carlos (not the Jackal I hasten to add) inspires confidence and explains that the flight will take one hour and 40 minutes, 30 minutes to get there and back from Nasca, and 40 minutes flying around the lines and shapes in the desert. Each shape is flown round with the plane banking sharply so that people on both sides of the plane get a sighting.

The place is amazing, even if some of the figures are a little difficult to make out, but I think I manage to get some good shots, and I'm sure good old Photoshop will help me out. The other highlight is just to appreciate the desert in this area of Peru, it could be the Sahara, but also the green valleys created by the rivers flowing off the Andes. We fly over Ica and Nasca, quite large towns as seen from the air.

So, back down safe and sound, and although we didn't witness the plane's maintenance records, I'd say that Aerodiana were pretty good. The forecast air sickness didn't manifest itself, although I felt like falling asleep having taken a Dramamine tablet an hour before the flight.

Erik finds us somewhere for coffee and cake, and then takes us to the bus station before giving us the feedback form which we fill in honestly, and his sulk deepens, which even the $20 tip does not seem to alleviate. He needs to get his act together if he wants to continue as a guide, definitely not up to scratch.

We are very impressed with the posh bus, or Cruz Del Sur, to give the company it's correct name, a long distance service between Lima and Puno, with a number of stops along the way. It's more like an aeroplane, with baggage checked in and a security check before boarding the bus at the embarkation gate. The seats downstairs would give business class a good run for it's money, although the food is a joke. Having said that it's a very comfortable way to travel four hours, infinitely better than a car.

Will we or won't we, make the restaurant by 8pm. In the end we are one minute late having completed the four hour posh bus ride from Paracas, got through the Lima traffic back to the hotel, and been dropped off by our guide Pamela, having dropped off luggage at the hotel; I love it when a plan comes together.

On the downside, Lorna has suffered with a griping stomach all day, and does not eat anything when we meet Robert & Barbara. They had arrived at the restaurant a little before us and bagged a table for four. Both the food and the company are great, and we share tales of our travels for some time.

On getting back to our room at around 11pm, we find a bottle of very nice bottle of wine, and a collective apology from Savvi, Cox & Kings and Lima Tours, and I had only sent the email the same morning, very impressive, oh and C&K are going to refund the $50 we paid for breakfast, result I think.

Thursday 21st April:

Definitely one of our least memorable days touring, rising at 1.45am and getting to our hotel around 6.30pm, and twelve of those hours spent in either a bus or a vehicle. Cox and Kings would not recommend an overflight of the Palpa & Nasca lines, and instead offered a land tour, it's not to be recommended, too little content, and too much time spent taking in some quite forgettable scenery.

Our guide Erik, nice enough guy, but his English was not really good enough for a guide. Misunderstanding over whether lunch was included, and having paid for a breakfast we shouldn't have, we declined to pay again.

Our land tour comprised a viewing from two towers, which did virtually no justice to the Nasca Lines. The Maria Reiche museum was in a sorry state, and although it could have been interesting, the German lady did after all spend 50 years mapping, measuring and trying to explain how the lines came into being, by whom and for what purpose, the whole place exuded a lack of care and interest locally.

Erik suggested a couple of other stops which we paid extra for, a restored Inca administration centre and a pre-Inca irrigation system. These barely altered the fact that this tour did not pass muster. Too long on the road, no water provided, no lunch provided, no photo stops, although there was little to excite, and we even had to request a comfort break.

The day ended on a better note after an excellent meal at the Hacienda Bahia Paracas, an excellent hotel.

Wednesday 20th April:

A half day tour of Lima with Betty, supposed to be just three hours, but with the chaotic Lima traffic and plenty of road closures, it takes well over an hour to reach the first of four visits, the Monastery of The Bare Foot Monks, a Franciscan order. The upside is we're the only ones there and it really is a serene place from around the 1650 era. This order was renown for it's humbleness, not that you could say that of the second monastery. Again a Franciscan order but they didn't do humbleness. Down below were the catacombs, where all and sundry were buried, in fact the bones of some 25,000 people were found, and now lie on a macabre display, mostly femurs, but also a good number of skulls as well, having lain for over 500 years.

The third stop having passed through the main square which housed the presidential palace, and Lima Cathedral, was a private house. Built in the 1500s by Pizarro's right hand man?, it has been in the ownership of the same family for 15 generations. The current owners are the four siblings of the 14th generation owner. They each have an apartment but only one resides there full time, and they open their house, not to the general public, but to tour organisations.

Betty does a good job explaining the local politics and the status of the recent general election which now awaits a run off between the two main contenders, one corrupt woman, who's corrupt ex-Presidential father is shortly to be released from jail for corruption, and the current Finance minister, who Betty is rooting for, as he's already over 70 and indecently rich anyway.

The last stop is a large Jesuit church, and we stroll quietly around whilst a service is conducted. Always good to see Christianity in action, and you get the impression that South America with its still very strong Catholicism will be the last stronghold of Christianity.

Betty recommends a nearby restaurant which we walk down to from the hotel, a Swiss restaurant on a very busy roundabout. The lunch is excellent and maybe a place to meet Robert & Barbara in a couple of days time. On the way back we visit a pharmacy to get some air sickness tablets, some Dramamine maybe. Lorna asks if anyone can speak English, the answer is no, so she points to her stomach, waving both arms to imitate an aeroplane, and then I pretend to vomit. They laugh and understand our mime, and we leave with the tablets, with tears in our eyes. Not finished, I drop into a hairdresser and get my hair cut, a really good job from a young lady, and less than I pay in Oakham. The thing that surprises me is that Lorna is surprised at how much hair ends up on the floor, but I'm not, it needed doing.

In also transpires that Lima Tours have managed to get us booked on a Nasca flight and I pay the $422 on line via the iPad, which I have to say is far and away the best travel companion to have, with the exception of Lorna of course.

After such a good lunch, we miss dinner and just go down to the bar for a local beer. I spy a face the other side of the bar, a traveller and his wife with a Brit travel guide. Then I recognise them, Andy & Gill, they stayed with us at the Eagle Festival in Mongolia last September, well that's a coincidence

Tuesday 19th April:

Well even by Mira's standards 6.15am breakfast is early, but a 7.15am dry landing on San Christobal Island to see the frigate birds nesting was a great way to finish our Galapagos visit. The females preen themselves and puff up a large red breast to attract the many males cruising around overhead. Also a good number of nesting pairs of blue footed boobies prepared to preen and strut their stuff, just a shame I took the wrong camera along, but the Fuji, I'm sure will come good with some cropping.

After disembarking and checking in the the airport, we loiter around the town of San Christobal for a couple of hours and enjoy an iced coffee with Tome & Julie, and promise to take them to Hambleton Hall when they come to England, which they clearly love, in September.

The good news is that we find wifi and can reassure folk back home that we are safe and sound, amazed at the various comments concerned about our welfare. The even better news is that we find that Tigers beat Saints at Franklins Gardens and are now seven points clear in 4th place with two games to play.

We thoroughly enjoyed the cruise, and it was a good group, no knobs, good comradeship, and we will be in contact I'm sure.

Two flights, San Christobal to Guayaquil, and Guayaquil to Lima. The first comfortable and straightforward, the second also good but with a massive queue to get through security, and then great fun on the plane. Lorna as ever was the centre of attraction, especially for a very attractive young man, who chatted to her all the way. He was part of a group of 13 young people, employees of a pharmaceutical company, who had won a reward trip to São Paulo to a massive party and concert. Loads of selfies taken and already posted for the world to see.

As we waited to collect our luggage we could hear a large group of girls cheering and even screaming randomly. As we exited the area to look for our pick-up, there must have been at least 200 of them, waving banners and pictures, and waiting for some hunk of a pop star to arrive. Lorna played to the crowd, waving both arms and giving them the smile, and they just screamed and screamed, it was hilarious.

By this time we had said our farewells to the six Californians who had also traveled to Lima, and will be making their way up to Macchu Pichu a little before us. During our 40 minutes ride into Lima from an exceedingly busy airport, we checked the itinerary with Pamela, and started the process of arranging a flight over the Nasca Lines.

The Casa Andina Private Collection Miraflores, now there's a mouthful, is in a decent neighbourhood, and is a very comfortable hotel. We have a light bite and get our heads down just before midnight having done all the iPad stuff.

Monday 18th April:

Lorna's Purse: $120
Allan's Wallet: $110
Money Belt: $680
Travel Wallet: $940
TOTAL: $1,850

Initial Dollars: $2,130 + $50 (residual in travel wallet)
Spend to Date: $330

Galapagos Tips: (all from money belt, now at $480)
Mira: $60
Crew: $120
Fabian: $20

Galapagos Boat Account:
$118 (from money belt, now at $360)

Balance: $1,530

Gosh, a lay in today, until 6.15am. And then our first wet landing, or getting off the zodiac at the water's edge. We all manage it fine, apart from Jim, who gets the full dousing. A nature stroll along the beautiful beach, and we bump into a mockingbird, a Galapagos hawk, and many crabs, who mostly scurry back down their hole in the sand as we trample over their homes.

When we get back to prepare for another snorkel, we find the fact sheet recommending what tips we might consider, which everyone considered, and then considered them at least twice what we would consider paying. In the end we go with $10 per person per day for Mira, and $20 per person per day for the rest of the crew. Lorna also gives Fabien an additional $20, for "looking out" for her.

Fabien has ensured Lorna is always catered for when arriving back on the boat, and always has a drink, a meal, or a dessert that pays heed to her diabetes. One evening when Lorna wanted ice-cream, Fabien would not entertain it, much to Lorna's chagrin.

Having said that he and the rest of the crew have been first class, nothing has been too much trouble for any of them, and they are always ready with a smile and a helping hand, most impressive. The food has been varied, if a little eclectic in some of the combinations, but always tasty and wholesome. Although the boat was a little more tired than we imagined, I have thoroughly enjoyed the cruise, more so than Lorna. Not quite what I imagined, although it is always difficult after the event to remember exactly how you imagined it beforehand. I guess we imagined we would see more coloured birds, more variety perhaps, certainly that we would see giant tortoises in the wild.

Our last full day also contained two snorkels, one from the boat, and one from the beach after our afternoon walk. Neither snorkel matched the second one, both the ones today being in very murky water. One or two of the group saw a white tipped reef shark, I didn't, and I'm not overly concerned that I didn't.

Some fantastic rock formations along the beach this afternoon, but unfortunately the sun was not out to provide some light and shade, which would have been magical.

Sunday 17th April:

We know the routine by now, up at 5.30am, breakfast at 6.30am, and off for the next adventure by 07.15am, and today it's hot. We're on the island of Fernandina this morning and it's a beach/lava stroll, not as arduous as yesterday, to visit hundreds of marine iguanas and their deceased ancestors. Many of the iguanas are dying because there is insufficient food, and the brown seaweed does not sustain them; some of the iguanas are even cosied up to their dead relatives.

Flightless cormorants are also plentiful, stretching out their useless wings to dry them off after diving as far as 50 metres down in the sea to catch fish. They flew to Galapagos originally, but food was so abundant in the sea that gradually they didn't need to fly any more, and now they are flightless.

I guess one of the inhabitants we expected to see in the wild was the giant tortoises, but they have so many predators, including the local population who would still eat the meat of tortoises until 20 years ago, that they are now only bred in captivity. Too many introduced species have decimated the giant tortoises that they are only re-introduced  into the wild after breeding programmes. One introduced species was the goat, and eventually they culled 200,000 goats to give the indigenous species a chance to survive. There are still goats but now in captivity and controlled by the local farmers.

Our second snorkelling session was in warmer water than yesterday, and it didn't disappoint. The water was also clearer, and the fish were plentiful, but the star of the show is always the turtles, so graceful underwater. Again thirty minutes is enough for most of us and we head back for lunch. Immediately the boat is underway and we're back to Isabela, to Tagus Cove, and some more snorkelling and also kayaking, should be fun.

Boy it's a busy day, and straight after lunch it's time to kayak. It doesn't go well and Lorna cannot get comfortable in the kayak, and we try another, still not OK, so Lorna withdraws and I paddle with Yann, one of the boat boys. I pass on the next snorkelling expedition, and it seems I don't miss much, no sharks sighted. The afternoon finishes with a walk up to Darwin lake, a small lake in a small caldera, and not particularly scenic.

The boat is underway immediately we get back until 4am, it makes conversation very difficult. At 8pm we all trundle up to the bridge to take a photograph of navigational equipment reading 0:00:000, or zero degrees latitude as we cross the equator. Interestingly we're at around 91 degrees longitude, just a quarter way round the globe from Greenwich. At around 3am we cross the equator the other way having just rounded the northern tip of Isabela island on our way to Santiago island.

Saturday 16th April:

We're up at the crack of dawn again and ready for our lava walk, 75 further minutes of hell for Lorna, but she does it with only a few scratches and no falls, in fact it's me that falls, but I think Lorna pushed me over truth be told. It's a fascinating location, a lava field with small green oases; the only real wildlife we see are two flamingos zipping by overhead, but we're told there could be snakes in the crevasses.

Another saunter in the zodiac, which I have to say I do enjoy, along the edges of the lava shore to meet another blue footed booby, and a colony of marine iguanas spitting at each other. It transpires that they are not really cross with one another, rather than are getting rid of the salty taste they have in their mouths, well if they must swim in the sea, what do they expect.

And then time for our first snorkel, most of us manage around 25 minutes, and I use the underwater camera for the first time, and without my glasses it's pretty difficult to focus on the marine life below. It gets better when a couple of turtles head my way, and I get some decent shots, we'll have to wait and see what Photoshop can do, give a little more contrast I hope. Lorna sits this one out as she is not confident enough to get in the water.

A difficult lunch, not due to the food, which is a very tasty lasagne, but for the fact that we have no way of getting the Saints v Tigers result, for several days yet.

Breakfast was fun with much discussion about The Donald. Pat and Delight weave a conspiracy story about The Clintons and The Trumps, best friends, and how they might get Hilary into the White House, get Donald to go for the Republican nomination and piss so many people off, that Hilary has to get elected, even if Donald gets the Republican nomination, interesting. I comment that it may turn out a bit like the surrogate mother, the one who eventually keeps the baby, we shall see.

We are still just off Isla Isabella, and surrounded by the enormous volcanoes, each one generating its own weather system. After lunch we motor more round to the western side of the island, and get ready for a couple of hours in the zodiac.

The first casualty of the trip, my beloved Sony Cybershot is kaput, the lens comes in and out but the screen is just blank, Lorna will now have to use the new Sony, the underwater jobbie. We spend two hours in the zodiac, cruising around a large rock and then through the mangrove inlets. Rays, turtles, seals, pelicans, boobies, and a solitary penguin are spotted, it seems that El Niño has been much more mild than expected with much less rain than previously and this has upset the life cycle of the penguins considerably.

At the debriefing, Mira tells us how the loss of three of the Galapagos supply ships has caused shortages on the islands as well as large price increases. They now have a much larger, single ship bringing supplies in but it cannot dock at any of the small piers, and so further cost is involved in transferring from ship to shore.

Mira goes on to explain the burgeoning demographics of Galapagos and how many young people go off to University on the mainland, get married and then return with a husband or bride, have children and hence grow the population; it seems that 35% of the population are between three and 18, which will continue the trend, and clash with the aim to keep the islands in their eco time warp.

One of the features of Galapagos is the lack of crime, perhaps that's why people return to the islands. It seems that if you were to commit a crime, then there'd be no escape, no way to get off the islands without being caught.

Friday 15th April:

At last the engines stop, the anchor is dropped, and calm returns, although it seems we have slept better than most. Up at 5.30am for a 6.30am breakfast and off onto the zodiacs by 7.15am, and it's already hot. Amazingly the very first bird we see is the blue footed booby, then some Galápagos penguins and a few small seals.

I discover some more features on the very flexible Panasonic camera, namely the digital zoom, which gives me a x2 and a x4 multiplier for the already handy 140mm zoom. As the camera has a half size sensor, 140mm is a 280mm equivalent full frame which times four, gives an incredible 1120mm focal length. Now having said that the quality is not too great, but it does get used to snap a flycatcher, which everyone admires, and even photographs off the iPad.

We see frigate birds, seals, land iguanas, and even white tipped reef sharks, which are apparently harmless unless you call them names. Definitely getting used to the Panasonic, it is becoming a little more second nature, and does seem to take good panoramic images.

And then it's time to climb the volcano, Negra, which has the second largest caldera in the world, over seven kilometres in diameter; Mira tells us that it erupts every six years or so, the last time in 2009. The walk is up a moderate gradient and rocky ground and Lorna decides to give it a try after much consideration. She finds it very tough going, and we fall behind the main group who are up the trail like gazelles. Delight and Steve kindly stay with us all the way, and when Lorna demands I leave her and get to the top, Delight stays and keeps her company until I come down again.

Once again luck prevails and I get to the rim of the caldera, as the cloud lifts for no more than a couple of minutes and time for one good panoramic shot. Then the cloud returns and I leg it back down to Lorna and we make it back to the bus. As ever Lorna's magnetic personality gets people onside supporting her, nothing new there then. Our bus is an old open design with four bench seats, and with the best possible air conditioning system.

We end up in Peurto Villamil, an extremely laid back back-packerish sort of resort for a beer and a stroll before boarding the wrong bus back to the jetty. Lorna manages to get a Wifi signal to the iPad, but not sufficiently strong to get an email away a to Hanna and Lucy. A good evening meal, and in bed for 9pm, and a repeat tomorrow.

Thursday 14th April:

If a transfer could go more smoothly then it would be hard to find. Casual breakfast at 5.30am, and picked up by Jorge at 6.30am on the dot. The drive to Guayaquil airport takes all of five minutes, and we wait while Jorge checks us in, job done. Guayaquil airport is superb, every bit the modern airport, light, airy, comfortable.

We hook up with the fourteen other passengers at Seymour Airport on Baltra Island, and then, bus, ferry, and bus again get us to Peurto Ayora, the main town on Galapagos, with a population of 20,000, nearly three quarters of the complete population of the islands, and where over 70% work or are supported by the tourism industry.

By the time we reach Peurto Ayora, we've met Tom & Julie, from Sydney, he's a lawyer specialising in cases relating to traumatic injury, and travels all over the world. They we're in Iguazu before Christmas for the wedding of their son and a Brazilian girl.

The beautiful Mira is our guide for the next six days, and she promises she will look after us 25/7, they even have an extra hour in the day out here in Galapagos, wonderful. Lunch is a pretty mediocre affair, and then we're off to the Charles Darwin research centre to see the giant tortoises. Sadly Lonesome George is no longer around, he was the last of a pure species, and died in 2012. Mira is an excellent guide and does a great job explaining all about the work here. I get some great images of a Land Iguana, as the new Panasonic shows it can take photos before the shutter is pressed.

Lorna buys a hat on the way back to the boat, and although she hates hats, everyone compliments her on my choice. A beer with Joanna & Steve completes a pleasant afternoon. Steve is a boyo, well 63 actually, from the valleys, and Joanna is from Richmond in London, they make an unlikely couple, but good fun.

In the evening we meet the crew before dinner, and they get to meet us, and everyone tries to remember everyone else's name, I bet I've got most of them including the crew. Dinner is a little better than lunch, but it's a close call, and then we're all in bed by 9pm.

We settle down for a good night's rest, and then all hell breaks loose, they start the engines for the overnight relocation to Islabella Island. I guess on a boat this size it's difficult to be too far from the engine room, we must be right on top of it.