Could You Eat A Guinea Pig?

I probably forgot to mention in blogs previous that guinea pig, ´cuy´, is something of a delicacy in Peru. It is prohibitively expensive and, more traumatically, there are elaborately constructed guinea pig funhouses outside restaurants with lots of various coloured critters ambling about with twitching noses. We weren´t tastebud-dead enough to try them but others have assured us that they don´t taste horrible.

This was certainly the case for a giant lizard that we saw at Iguazu Falls National Park. It had caught or scavenged a wild cuy and was munching contentedly at its innards. A German guy stalked around it and did his best Steve Irwin impression. We all backed away slowly.

Iguazu Falls were incredible. They apparently, according to some loud American that I overheard, make Niagara look like a trickle. After being stalked by literally thousands of butterflies, we reached the Garganta Del Diablo which is genuinely awesome, in the old fashioned sense of the word (i.e. the one that was intended to represent awe, not be followed by the word ´dude´.) We also have fun exploring the jungle surrounding the falls, even seeing a couple of toucans along the way. Aoife had her sandwich stolen by a coati, a raccoon-like mammal with a long stripey tail. She could only stare in awe as it leapt like lightning onto our table, snatched it and ran. Opposable mammal thumbs be damned!

We are now in Brazil which means that all the Spanish that I learned in now essentially redundant. I now speak only in mumbled monosyllables.

Murray plus Turkey = Mur-key

Conor, welcome to the blogging dark side!

We have made it back onto delightful Argentinian soil (great food, lots of eye candy for either sex and puppies.) Already, we have been mocked by bus ticket sellers. Curse you Flechabus! When purchasing said ticket, I said 'Oh, no tengo mi pasaporte'. Both guys behind the counter theatrically gasped and said ´Nooooooo!´. Previous to that, I was accosted by a coca chewing Chilean who had a puppy. He implied that I was cuter than the puppy (which simply wasn´t true!).

I forgot to mention in the blog previous, in deference to a certain Ms A. Bole that on an overcast day in Lima, we dawdled into a piercing / tattoo parlour simply to 'price' things and ended up not leaving for three hours. I got my nose pierced and Aoife got a really cool tattoo on her ankle. The buzzing of a tattoo needle is a sound that shall inevitably be replicated in my nightmares.

We had some interesting times on our three epic bus journeys from Lima to Salta. One bus had a scrolling sign which informed us repeatedly that the navigational system didn´t work. Another said ´Timeout!´ for twelve hours. We got to see the amazing movies of ´Before the Sunset´ and 'Under Siege'. Mike has been trying to tell me about a golden age when Steven Seagal was popular and slicked back hair was in. As far as I´m concerned, woolly mammoths were probably still walking the earth.

The Organisation Of The Organised

Mike update - this morning when we were having breakfast, he looked out at the Plaza San Martin and saw a horse. He said ´We could go horseriding this morning - oh no wait, that´s a police horse.´ Heck, at least it wasn´t a Mountie. Those guys are vicious.

We are spending our last day in Peru in Lima, the slightly smoggy capital city. Since I last blogged, we had a bumpy ride over the Nazca Lines - the pilot would say ´There is a monkey to the left´ before wheeling the plane sharply around and saying 'and, to the right!'. We also got to see some desert sand twisters moving randomly around. After our fun bus crash, the very next day we all got to experience an earth tremor (the earth moved!) and see an ice mummy. In fact, it has been a week of mummies. Apparently grave robbers still operate in Peru - consequently, the graves that we visited, the Chauchilla graveyard, has scattered human remains bleaching in the sun.

Dune buggying was ridiculously fun. It´s like a roller coaster without the height suspension. Also, we sandboarded down impossibly steep slopes. We were all clamouring for 'mas wax por favor' for MAXIMUM speed.

Our tour hath ended and we now have less than three weeks left in South America before I return, yet again, to the sunny shores of Irlanda. I am sweating profusely as I type so am perplexed at the idea of frost and, God forbid, rain. I hear that Ireland sometimes gets that.

Inca People Were Evil and Thoughtless

I´ll start this off with a relieved 'I completed the Inca Trail!' style gloat. It´s a gloat only because the potential for other results was certainly there - Mike and I alternated between being slightly sick and dizzy to trying- desperately-to-unzip-all-twenty-doors-of-your-tent-in-the-middle-of-the-night-before-vomitous-action type ill throughout the four days. I literally had to army march him from the respectable altitude of 3000 metres to 4200 metres (Dead Woman´s Pass) on Day 2 lest he tumble off the side. He was so blessedly out of it that he felt no embarrassment when he was sick in front of a fellow hiker, a pretty Norwegian girl, who was highly sympathetic.

The trail itself was a revelation - you just got to marvel at how dastardly clever the Incas were, well before their time. They channelled water effectively in neat little viaducts. They built everything to face the sun. They used huge stones and God only knows how they transferred them from quarries that were often miles away. Plus, they had a real eye for aesthetics - the sheer beauty of the sites that they chose (and the tactical positioning) was often breathtaking, even though they were often shrouded in cloud.

The hiking was usually either dramatically uphill or downhill which meant that you were either gasping for breath or pathetically clutching your knees. And we had porters to carry all our stuff, something which felt like guilt inducing lavishness. These men, with the most bulging calf muscles you will ever see, literally ran the Inca Trail with at least 20 kilos on their back. My admiration knows no bounds.

Machu Picchu itself was absolutely stunning. It is sandwiched high above a U-bend in a river, surrounded by several intimidating mountains and is virtually impossible to access. We spent a good six hours exploring it as we were practically the first people on site - before the camera toting Japanese / American tourists began to block up its steep stairways. However, to say that Machu Picchu is the sole purpose of the trail would be completely unfair - the trail and all the archaeological sites that you see along the way make it a thorough experience. I only curse the Incas for their belief that you have to suffer in order to attain something good - they could have short cut it through the valley but opted not to. Boo to that!

I could blether for much longer but I shall restrain myself. I will attempt to get more photos up online. White water rafting tomorrow, chocolatey rivers ahoy!