willswalkabout - Tumblr blog

[willswalkabout]

Mexico 

Mexico was an absolute whirlwind and for that reason I would love to return to delve deeper into it, see more, and get a slightly more rounded experience, however I still loved my time there. A combination of cheap flights, and wanting to be in Cancun on Saturday night, meant my trip was pretty oddly organised on the face of it. I began with two nights in a hostel in the centre of Mexico City. It was an odd place to arrive the first night. I was immediately stuck by the number of police, standing on practically every street corner. It found it hard to decide if this made me feel safer or not! The Spanish also felt very different from what I had become accustomed to in Peru. Much harsher, and with less personal sympathy for my inadequacies. I found a cheap bar and had an early night. I was also fairly annoyed at myself for making a mistake I had already made on my trip, of picking a massive hostel more suited to school trips. You may remember this happened to me in Sydney. I think my only thought was the great experience at the Buenos Aires hostel, which was also fairly big. Luckily my room which I had to myself the first night, shared a bathroom with another adjoining room, where Will and Alicia were staying. They were from California and Texas respectively, and I spent the next day wondering around the city with them. 

On day two myself and Will went on a free walking tour the hostel had put on, though sadly it was probably the worst I’ve done. Which is saying something as Christchurch was pretty awful. Mexico had so much to offer, but we were taken to the government building, which housed the department for education I think. To its credit all 3 floors had some pretty impressive murals on all the walls, however we were convinced our tour guide was purely interpreting them in his own way, like we could ourselves, as opposed to delivering actual knowledge. Will and I bugged him with more questions than he was wanting, and I seem to remember he eventually told us that there is actually very little written about the murals, so he has a difficult job. At this point we thought it best to leave the tour and forge our own path through the chaos. We walked through a market for a bit before meeting Alicia, who come to think of it may have only flown in that morning. We had a few drinks, before going up Mexico city’s tallest building, which had some pretty decent panoramic views, despite the smog. Anyone that knows me, and certainly anyone that has been reading this blog, will be well aware that I love a good view. What in a somewhat pathetic way really thrills me, is that these views have been unbelievably varied over the trip. Highlights would be the night hike in Hong Kong, one of my favourite skylines of the trip. A week later I was on Koh Samui off the Thailand coast, riding a scooter up a hill to see sunset over the beach. Then there’s of course New Zealand, where the treks were absolutely awe inspiring. Santiago’s funicular did a pretty decent job, and now I was looking across the chaotic sprawl of what was once the world’s most populated city. We spent that evening looking for a bar with little success. Myself and Will were sent in the direction of couple of Mexico’s hip/bar areas, and as we aimlessly walked through the streets we were met with little success. One of my biggest disappointments of Mexico was failing to find these areas, and hopefully I’ll be able to link up with a local when I next visit. We still had more luck than an Australian guy in our hostel, who from mishearing one letter of a place name, had ended up in the city’s gay quarter, which he made clear to us was not his intention. 

The next day I did a much improved walking tour of the city. It was actually more like a lesson in the history of the nation, illustrated by buildings and monuments, but did a good job of demonstrating how the city was formed, and the tour guide was excellent, I then flew to Cancun that evening. Mexico city’s airport look very central on the map, but the traffic can mean you actually have to leave 45 minutes for the 5 mile journey if going at peak times. As soon as I landed 2 hours later in Cancun I was hit by the wall of heat. This was not as bad as Austin turned out to be, but was still a step up from the city. I walked the 5 minute trip to my hostel and checked in. The hostel had looked pretty amazing both on the website and by the reviews, and it was one of my favourites of the trip. It was laid out very similarly to the ‘Love Island’ villa, a reference I’m not sure all readers of this blog will be able to relate to. There was also the added bonus of free dinner and breakfast, both of which were excellent. The pool was also great to cool off, and as a social aspect. My hope in Cancun was to meet a load of Americans. Mostly because I’ve had a good time with them so far, and I assumed it was where a lot of them come for the summer. It was then a bit of a shock when I joined a circle of chairs to find that the hostel was about 75% British and Irish. I’m still not sure why this was the case, given Mexico is a <3 hour flight from so many large American cities. I don’t remember all the names, but I got along well with another Will, who had been schooled in Dubai, but was about to go to Bristol University to do Medicine. I also met Sabrina, who was I think a trainee primary school teacher from San Francisco. I had thought I’d go out that night, it being Friday, though it seemed there was a pattern of big nights, and no nights. Thursday had been a big one for most people at the hostel, and I was fairly happy to settle for an early night. 

Breakfast was probably the best I’ve had from any hostel. This poor cook stood in an absolute sweat box of a kitchen, and was happy to cook you omelettes with your choice of filling, subway style. We went to the beach that day with a few others, I’m struggling with names but I can always remember nationalities. At times it annoyed and confused Americans when I would refer to them as Colorado, Arizona, Seattle or Buffalo, but it’s what always sticks with me, over the names themselves. So in this case there was a Dutch and a German girl, as well as an extremely irritating French-Canadian who went by the name of Swanny. He spent a considerable amount of time telling us about the factories he owns in China, while being a waiter at college. I’ve learnt not to question these people as it’s just not worth the effort. After a day at the beach where I probably burnt, we did go for a big night out at a club called ‘The City’. The hostel did an all-inclusive deal that got you transport (which turned out to be 50 cents…) entry to the club, your own table, and an open bar. I was shocked to find out this would cost $50. I had budgeted for far less, but I guess you have to remember that these institutions are solely serving tourists, and are American owned. A few of us briefly considered finding our own ‘locals outlet’, but then realised with no knowledge of the local area, little Spanish, and with the hostel organising the main night, we might as well just do it as a one off experience. I’m sure there’ll be some pictures in this, but it was pretty incredible. As the largest club in Central and South America it was just enormous, and more like an arena than a club. Safe to say I can’t remember a huge amount of this night past the initial amazement the size. I did for an unknown reason choose to jump in the pool when we returned to the hostel at about 4 in the morning. For this I was told to leave the premises or go to bed. Soaking wet, I sat outside for a while and I think dried off while dozing off to sleep. Later in the morning at about 5 I think Will turned up outside in an uber. I remember he left pretty early in the night. What made little sense was that on closer examination his uber had departed from a few hundred metres away from Cancun Airport. He had no clue how he’d ended up there, it’s about a 30 minute drive from the club. One theory is that he fell asleep on a bus going the wrong direction but I’m still not sure. 

The next day we visited Playa Delphinas, an absolutely stunning beach with picture perfect white sand and turquoise waters. Following the pattern, it was another quiet night, bar a beer pong tournament. I knew my success in this field had peaked back in Buenos Aires with Roy, so chose to sit this one out. The next day was a flight back to the city. I told you it was a bit of a mad trip. I’m not sure what I think of Cancun. I’m sure if you stay in one of the many resorts it can be a lovely place to holiday, but I’m not it has anything you wouldn’t possibly find cheaper in Europe. The issue is that the whole town is run on its tourists, and so finding Mexican prices, which was possible in the capital, was not here. I would possibly give it another go, but would prefer to see the nearby Tulum, or the pyramids at Chichen Itza. Having already ticked off 2 of the modern wonders on this trip (Great Wall of China and Machu Picchu) I was gutted not to have time to make the day trip to the Yucatan. 

On my return to the City I had booked a hotel for two nights. I had the money spare and it was only $25 a night. What I didn’t know, was that I was to be upgraded to the room with a huge Jacuzzi.. This was unbelievable news, and a situation I was desperate to share. I met up with Will, and Alicia that evening who were still at our hostel, and we played drinking games with a load of Dutch guys that evening before being kicked out. The next day I was pleased most of our group, plus some German girls and Israeli guys fancied visiting the pyramids of Teotihuacan. This partly made up for missing Chichen Itza. We could have done with a guide book as the Wikipedia page was fairly useless, as was the signage. We hung on the back of a couple of tour groups, but concluded that these guides went a lot slower, and in far more detail than we would have liked. It was built and largely functioned between 100 and 700AD. A lot of it was destroyed in the 6th Century. I think the story loosely goes that the Mayans built it and lived there, before the Aztecs decided they liked the look of it, and defeated the Mayans to take it. It is a hub for Archaeologists and I think still has a lot to be found. There’s a lot of controversy over the fact the dividing president Diaz somewhat rebuilt it in 1910 when he was trying to make Mexico City like the cultural capitals of Europe, and he may of destroyed some of the original stonework. Wikipedia also claims to me now that the government agreed on some proposals to build a Walmart there before they were defeated by UNESCO. That night those of us that went to the pyramids, along with a couple of English girls who moved in that evening, ended up back at my room in the hotel, with some drinks. Once you’ve seen a photo of the size of the jacuzzi, it would feel stupid to keep it to myself. In the morning having had very little sleep, I flew into the heat wall that was Austin.

[willswalkabout]

Peru part 3. Return to Cusco

Way too long coming I know, but oh well, I’ve been busy and lazy and the whole thing should be done within a week or so. Peru part 3 (Cuzco part 2), here goes.

I’d done my Machu Picchu expedition over the space of 3 days, which meant that upon returning to Cuzco I had no intention of trekking the very next day. This intention was far from fulfilled, as that evening I met Jaina and Kelsey, both travelling together from the US. They had very limited time in Cuzco with a flight to Lima on the Friday. Given they wanted to do Rainbow Mountain I decided it was better to do a bit tired with friends, than refreshed alone. We booked it that evening and took an early night, given the 430am meet time.

We reconvened in the dark, bleary eyed and hoping to get some sleep on the four hour trip to the mountain. We were told the first two hours of the ride, which took us to breakfast, were on ‘good tarmac roads’. Of course everything is relative, and it was still far too bumpy for me to get any kind of sleep. All the tours offer the exact same package, the only variables seem to be price and the quality of breakfast. We went with our hostel’s deal, which is definitely not always the best option. Breakfast however was excellent, certainly in comparison to some horror stories I’ve heard, of some stale/mouldy bread with a juice carton. We had Spanish omelette, frankfurters, toast, jam and coffee. I scoffed down as much as wouldn’t seem rude. There was then another two hours on a more treacherous road which Kelsey and Jaina enjoyed to a lesser extent. The drop to the right side was sheer, and plunged approximately 100ft by my reckoning. Eventually we arrived at the mountain which to little surprise, had been found by a few other tour groups before us.

I’ve learnt on the trip not to let this put me off. It usually means there are stunning views, and enough space to still get an Instagram where it looks like you’re the only person there.

It’s about 5km as I remember to the summit, and takes about two hours. It was the first time the altitude had really hit me, we were now at 17,000ft, with Cuzco being at 11,000ft. This made the hike pretty challenging, I drunk two and a half litres of water easily on the way up. The walk is made more frustrating by the fact you can pay about £15 to ride a horse up. The horses are for the most part dragged up the mountain by 5 foot tall Peruvian women. Neither the horses or their owners look like they ever get days off, and I really felt for some of the animals in particular who looked so worn down, every step was a struggle. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact most of the horses were ridden by overweight westerners. The other riders were a good few Asian tourists filming the entire ride on go pros. I’m sure a riveting watch for all the family when they return home. They don’t have a separate path, so you are constantly being made to give way to a plodding horse on its as it climbs up, or ducking out the way of a horse that is being made to canter down the hill riderless, to pick up its next rider. Saying all this the view from the top of the mountain is absolutely stunning. You can see for miles, and you have the entirely unique scene of the painted mountains. The last climb is the hardest, meaning it isn’t quite as busy at the very top, this bit is too steep for even the most alive of horses. We managed to walk down to a quieter spot to take a plethora of photos. Luckily we were one of the first of our group of around 20 to reach the summit, and so had a great amount of time to take it all in. Casually residing on the other side of the canyon to the rainbow mountains is Peru’s 4th or 5th highest mountain. Higher than any in the UK of course, it stood as an intimidating presence, and apparently has never been climbed.

I found the route down more challenging than that up. Although the path did undulate, I think this was more due to the pure accumulation of time spent so high up. By the time we finally reached the minibus all three of us were struggling with pounding headaches and lack of breath. More sleep was managed on the way back to the hostel where we pulled in at about 7.

We were all starving and so headed to a place called ‘Green Point’. It is Cusco’s only totally vegan restaurant. We mainly went because Kelsey’s vegan, they had been the day before. I was a little apprehensive, and they spent much time apologising in advance in case I didn’t like it. I couldn’t have been more wrong, it was some of the best food of my entire trip. I had the quinoa burger with sweet potato fries. It came with three different dips and was incredibly filling. We somewhat waddled back to our hostel after. We’d at one point spoke of going out that evening, but by this point none of us could move. I said my goodbye’s to Kelsey and Jaina, who had a flight at 7am the next day.

The next day was relaxed and very enjoyable, and really helped to validate the fact I had chosen to spend 11 days in the city. Myself and Alison found a bijou but delicious coffee place for breakfast with one of the prettiest menus I have ever seen.

I then spent the rest of the day chilling in the hostel, and I think writing the Chile blog. When it came to the evening, Liz, Alison and I went on somewhat of a bar/hostel crawl. We started at the Irish owned Wild Rover, which is way up on a hill, and would be horrific to walk back to late. I had considered staying at Cusco’s self proclaimed ‘best party hostel’, and this visit made me so glad I had stayed at the wonderful Ecopackers for my entire time instead. Wild rover involved lots of dancing on the bar, but I think the fact they chose to project scenes of people having a much better time at a festival, on a big screen, told you that it was incredibly forced. After little more than an hour there we moved downhill to Loki. Loki is also a ‘party hostel’ but is older and felt more genuine than Wild Rover. I also approved of the water gun that was capable of firing shots into the gaping mouths of revellers. It was fun and I think we met a few Americans there but they may have been Canadian, that then accompanied us to Cusco’s only true club, Changos. Changos was surprisingly good. It had a big space, a well organised but reasonably priced bar, and hadn’t completely sold itself out to the backpacker market, with a good percentage of locals in attendance. It was therefore somewhat frustrating that I had to leave Changos at 230am, to watch the final British and Irish Lions test. I say frustrating, but I’d been overwhelmed with excitement ever since the end of the second test, a week previous. Finding that my hostel had ESPN 2 South America earlier in the day, was one of the single greatest moments of elation I’ve ever experienced. I grabbed a kebab and jogged back to the hostel common room. It was pitch black with everyone either in bed, or out. I switched on the television, and to my relief it burst into life with the haka, albeit with Spanish commentary. I then plugged my phone in and made a WhatsApp call to dad, watching it at 8:30am at home. I made him pause and play his stream so that our game clocks were synced up, and he gave me the commentary down the phone. It was an incredibly cagey game, and when the Spanish adverts rolled on at half time I did fall asleep while still on the call. (Alcohol consumption + comfy sofa + 3:15am). At this point dad must have panicked, wondering if he’d be able to awake me from my slumber before the start of the second half. I think I woke up about the 47 minute mark, and only missed one penalty. The series ended in the most bizarre of fashions. A controversial tv ref decision saving the Lions, and committing the match to a tie. Both teams looked around not knowing whether to celebrate or fall to the ground in despair. The sides both had big opportunities to win the game within the last 20 minutes that weren’t taken. I dragged myself to bed, still overjoyed that I’d managed to watch the game live, 3 weeks after seeing the team in Rotorua, a town that couldn’t possibly seem further away. Three weeks felt like three months, in the best of ways.

The next day was fairly uneventful. Liz, Marieka and myself did some shopping, and got food at the market. I did find out that Marieka who is dutch, plays hockey to a pretty high level, and her dad is an ICC umpire. This provided a huge amount of conversation, to the point that to our fault, we almost forgot about Liz walking with us, and had to apologise profusely. A few others had got back from a hike that day, so I was glad to introduce more people to Green Point. There were so many items on the menu I was desperate to try, I really did not need an excuse. I had the stir fry this time which was fantastic, while others sampled vegan sushi, lasagne and a few Peruvian delicacies.

On Sunday I did a jam packed tour of the sacred valley with Liz, Alison and Marieka. Jam packed because we managed to find a version that basically fitted a day and a half’s tour into one. It meant a lot of jumping on and off the bus with little time to stop, but was what we wanted really. I don’t feel guilty in saying some of the ruins were far more impressive than others. I expect the ones I was least captured by, are the most fascinating for archaeologists. I loved the salt mines, and ruins at Ollantaytambo. The agricultural farming circles less so. The guinea pig farm at the start of the tour was also pretty cool. We left at around 530am I think, and the day was pretty tiring. When I got back to the hostel I ate there, and then met Luke (who featured in Santiago and Buenos Aires), and has one more appearance to come… He was staying with his dad in Cusco. There was a pretty impressive district wide power cut, which resulted in us all huddling round the fire. I also met Eliza, a law student from Brussels who had some pretty passionate views on the UK’s incompetence re Brexit, which was amusing and terrifying at the same time.

My final day in Cusco involved my best empanadas of the trip, and a visit to what wasn’t the monkey temple… An Irish guy who’s name I’ve forgotten was set on visiting this temple, however I’m pretty sure it’s a nickname and he definitely didn’t know it’s Spanish name. After a couple of taxi drivers looked back at us with blank expressions, one claimed he knew where to go and we piled in. He didn’t. He also only managed to take us halfway up the hill he was intending to, so we got out and enjoyed the view from what was still a decent set of ruins. That evening about 10 of us got dinner at, well, obviously, green point. I hadn’t had the Lentil burger yet! I won’t name everyone but there was a group of about 8 of us, all of which have multiple mentions in the Peru blogs who had dipped in and out of the hostel on tours, but who had generally stuck together. I loved having 11 days in a place with a great group of people. The dinner was a great way to finish my time in Peru, which I did love, and would love to return to. The next day I boarded a flight to Lima, and then onto Mexico City, but that’s for the next one.

[willswalkabout]

Peru part 2. Machu Picchu

On the Monday I got an early train to Machu Picchu, early in that I had to leave the hostel in an uber at about half five. I managed to leave my big bag at the hostel and just take my small 25l one with the essentials. The train was packed, and I was sat next to a very friendly woman, who’s home and name now sadly escape me. It’s a magical journey which is just over three hours in total and crosses from arid cacti filled desert to tropical rainforest. At points the route is so steep that the train has to zig zag back and forth, in a similar fashion to if you were trying to lift a double mattress down four flights of stairs. There is a glass ceiling to the train which gives a great view of the mountains on either side, and speakers through which you get an audio guide to the trip. I was also not prepared to be served food and drinks in the carriage, and though only a sandwich this was much appreciated as I’d missed breakfast entirely.

As the train pulled into our final stop, Aguas Calientes, it became clear to me that my hostel was next to the station. This is advertised as a bonus on the website, but the trains actually make a tremendous honk, seemingly whenever they feel like it, right outside your window, at all hours... This is the main town, now pretty much known as Machu Picchu, which is actually a 20 minute bus ride / 2 hour hike from the ruins. One thing MP lacks is any atmosphere in hostels. This is because most people arrive late in the evening to summit MP in the morning, and go back the next afternoon. The town itself has nothing but a few restaurants, and any other actual attractions are more reachable from Ollantaytambo, or the far larger Cusco. I however had chosen to spend two nights, as it enabled me to get the cheapest trains. This is because most people want to get the evening train in and evening train out. I opted for two morning trains which saved me a lot of money. Anyway the result of this was that nobody was in my hostel, so I walked around the town a bit (not a great time filler, it’s tiny), had a nap, made a video call to parents, and then went to see if anyone else had arrived. Turns out very few had, and those that were at the hostel kept themselves to themselves and so feeling a little bit low, I decided to treat myself to the finest food MP had to offer for dinner. This particularly restaurant which claimed to be a mix of Italian and Peruvian tradition, served one of the best meals of the whole trip. Coming to around US$12 it was very expensive for Peru, where a good meal for $2-$7 is very easy to come by, but I did not regret it. It was alpaca steak, with a load of fancy potatoes and vegetables on the side, and did cheer me up.

I was however further frustrated to find on return to the hostel that all those that had now arrived were opting to take the bus in the morning as opposed to the hike. What really bemused me, is they were mostly still getting up at 4am like myself, but only to get in the queue for the 5.30am bus. Why you would wait and hour and a half in the cold when you could be walking I don’t know.

Morning came and I grabbed a pretty pathetic breakfast, before beginning the hike. I found a group but they appeared mostly head down and mute. Nevertheless they had torches which was useful. The hike up is pretty mystical, as the mist slowly clears above the mountains. There isn’t a sunset as such, I think due to the humidity, but I loved it. 

The top is a slight anticlimax to be honest, as you just join a melee of tourists who had just got off the bus, to get in. However I don’t regret it, as being up there when the gates opened at 6am, still meant you got the best view of the citadel before it was crowded with visitors. 

After getting the obligatory photos, my favourite one being that with a llama in, I began exploring. This was a tricky time for me, as I had a ticket to climb ‘Machu Picchu Montana’ at 9:00, and didn’t think I had time to go and look at the citadel first. On the one hand not doing so was a mistake, as although I got a good view of the whole site I was wondering round fairly aimlessly for a long time. On the other hand when I did eventually visit the citadel at the end of my time there, they were operating a one way system as they filed people out of the exit, so it may have been difficult to go back the other way. The climb up the mountain was tough and not particularly because of the altitude, but the pure steepness. I don’t have the figures on me, but it was incredibly steep, the fact people were going down on their arses, being a good measure. The reward however which came about an hour and a half later, was a fantastic view of the whole area from the top. We were now so high that the view was intermittently broken by clouds, but when they cleared cameras were raised, and the scene was magnificent. 

After going down the mountain, which almost took me as long as the up had, due to the steepness, I entered the citadel. I had not booked a tour for reasons of thriftiness and flexibility, but I managed pretty successfully to hang onto the back of English speaking groups, tactically hiding behind a rock when necessary, and picked up enough history to be satisfied. The guides went pretty slowly and only the small private guides for singles or pairs had really great English, so I think being part of the 20 person groups would have felt quite tiring. After getting my fill and having been there about six hours, I left the official gates to the site and got an empanada, before tiredness truly set in and I got a bus down. I can never sleep on transport and yet still managed to on the windy route back into Aguas Calientes.

I think I took another nap at this point, before heading to the actual ‘aguas calientes’. I was extremely disappointed that it took me until seeing a sign saying ‘Danger, Aguas Calientes’, and actually getting into the hot springs, to clock that of course this was the reason for the town’s naming. My spanish is poor at best, but I did know both translations for the words agua and caliente. (Water, and hot, if you’re still confused). The springs were nice, and where they did not perhaps match Rotorua for cleanliness, they did for scenery. Settled in the Andes mountains after a day of hiking they were a great way to end the day.

That evening I got some dinner with a guy called Anthony from Arizona, and took an early night. The train ride the next morning was absolutely incredible. Peru Rail choose to split the front carriage into two. The right side belongs to the driver, and the left, has two seats. This means the occupiers of such seats have a ‘driving the train’ experience, similar to that of the DLR in London. I cannot say the DLR actually compares... Although I only took this train halfway, to Ollantaytambo, it was absolutely mesmerising, and I took some great footage/photos. We were also treated to a somewhat impromptu fashion show as the company tried to sell some overpriced merchandise, as well as a ‘traditional dance’, which was extremely bizarre but quite fun.

In Ollantaytambo I found a collectivo for 10 soles (£2.50) to take me the 2 hours back to Cusco. Collectivos are like mass taxis in the form of minibuses, that only leave once full, but are the cheapest way of getting between major towns that are also on the train line.

I had planned to give myself a lie in the next day, but ended up booking Rainbow Mountain with some girls I met that evening. That however, will all be in Peru part 3...

[willswalkabout]

[willswalkabout]

Buenos Aires Photos

[willswalkabout]

Boca Juniors photos

[willswalkabout]

Highlights form Chile

[willswalkabout]

Peru Part 1

It is fair to say I didn't have the most enjoyable trip to Cusco. With my plane at 6am I had to leave my BA hostel at 3am. Seeing little point in sleep I irresponsibly had a few drinks that evening. It meant I my head crashed on the 6 hour flight, and ended up being incredibly dehydrated and uncomfortable. Then there was a frustrating 4+ hour layover in Lima, where for some reason I had to go and retrieve my backpack, and then sit with it until I could check it in for the next flight. This is such an unusual situation for a layover, especially when flying with the same airline, that I very nearly forgot I had it with me, and could have quite easily subconsciously walked with it to the departure gate. The flight from Lima to Cusco however is absolutely stunning. Completely over the Andes, it is impossible to imagine a city can exist in what feels like the middle of nowhere. The range is at its highest about halfway through the flight, where only the peaks emerge from the clouds. I wish it was possible to take better plane window photos. It was therefore somewhat an anticlimax when upon arrival in Cusco it was pouring with rain. Bags collected I shared a taxi to my hostel with 2 other girls, who I had singled out as backpackers (not particularly difficult), and the driver dropped us each off at our respective accommodations. I was shattered that evening, due to being severely sleep deprived over the last 40 or so hours. I got a burger from the extremely reasonably priced hostel restaurant and went to bed. This was more difficult than it should have been due to the absolutely dire "Friday night live music". That evening I very quickly came to the conclusion that I was in a hostel for over 35s only, but this was not to be the case at all, as I discovered from the next day onwards. One of the hardest things about traveling is leaving a comfortable group of friends, that once you put the initial groundwork in, really helped to mouldy a great experience in a particular location. In the case of BA it was Roy et al, and you never feel it can be replicated in your next destination. What you do know is that at the first breakfast/dinner when people are around, you have to start again, introduce yourself, and hope to make some new acquaintances. This has obviously become less and less daunting, but does still require confidence and energy, to bound your way into a conversation, without wanting to look like you were listening in, and hoping that it's not a single group of 8 friends. Identifying that those in a group have only met recently is a skill I've developed, and always makes for a easier entrance. Saying this I met the most amazing group of people in Cusco who will get repeated mentions throughout this post. It was sad saying goodbye, as we'd had a good 10 days all in the same hostel, even if we all departed on different days for tours or to see Machu Picchu. This means right now I'm back in that state where I can't imagine meeting people in Mexico. No doubt I will, however it will not quite be the same, as I have just 5 nights spread across two hostels. I digressed. On Saturday I approached a group at breakfast. They were made up of 4 Americans who had all gone to school (university) in New Orleans. It was hard to keep up with where they were all actually from, as it seemed they'd all moved a couple of times, and were also now working somewhere else entirely. Three were very well traveled, while one was leaving the US for the first time at 25. I also met Ali, a long term traveler from Basingstoke, who for the past 6 years had been away on and off, while also pursuing a career in floristry while at home. I'm not sure I would naturally have been Ali's friend if we come across each other back home. I'm fairly organised, and enjoy sport as well as pointless discussions about politics and the world at large. Ali on the other hand rarely seemed to know where she might be in 24 hours time and hadn't a clue what was happening back home, but regardless we got on pretty well over the next week. After meeting these 5 at breakfast, I then went for coffee in the beautiful Plaza de Armes with Ali and two more of her friends. Marieka, a Dutch girl who had been with Ali the last 3 weeks, and Liz, who was Swiss and also from the hostel. We did our own walking tour of Cusco's markets, myself buying a sweater and a hat handmade from Alpaca wool, that I'm very pleased with. We also went to the food market for lunch, where we sat on tiny stools and had omelettes made to our specifications. Following this Ali and Liz (who extremely helpfully spoke Spanish), came with me to get a SIM card, a process so complicated I do not have the energy to explain. I think I put together a decent run through of my experience in Thailand in that blog, so for a reference you could read that and then multiply the difficulty by 3. We followed this up by the fairly underwhelming Chocolate museum. Though free to enter, you could pay upwards of US$50 for a cooking course, and US$4 for some cake. Both crazy expensive by Peruvian standards, though we did buckle when we saw others getting the cake. That evening myself and Ali went out looking for the cuisine known as Chicha, a Peruvian take on Chinese food. I had my first experience of beer at around 10,000 feet also, which, as expected, felt 2-3x the strength it had done in BA. On Sunday morning I was was feeling pretty tired, having had altitude induced headaches the past two nights. I therefore picked the option of a £1 uber to take me up to the Saqsaywoman ruins, colloquially known as Sexy Woman due to the sound of the pronunciation. The ruins were pretty impressive, and from them I could walk to another large Jesus, similar to Santiago and Rio. There was a great view of the whole of Cusco, and a very easy walk straight down back to the city. On Saturday I had seen a banner advertising a football match on Sunday afternoon, between the local side Cienciano, and a team from Lima. After asking Luis on the tour desk if we could get tickets, he agreed to take as many people as wanted to come, with tickets only costing 20 soles (£5). So we went to the game that afternoon, along with Marieka, Ali and the four Americans from the previous day's breakfast. I can tell you with absolute certainty that the Peruvian Second Division is the lowest standard of football I have ever paid to witness. Bear in mind the gravitas of that statement, given I've watched two League 2 games ending in 0-0, featuring the giants of Barnet, Hereford, York City and Scunthorpe. More entertainment was provided, so to speak, off the field. It began in the first half with the home fans managing to wind up an opposition coach to the extent his reaction got him sent off. Then there were the two away fans popping up in the home section, given they were wearing the team's bright pink shirts I'm not sure how they weren't spotted earlier, but police had to intervene pretty quickly once they were discovered. It is maybe important to note that there is no way Cienciano should be in the second division. Their plight is very comparable to Newcastle United's, in that they possess a 44,000 seater stadium, have a fairly illustrious domestic history, but have been let down by management from the top down. This was knowledge useful to have, as riot police used their shields to protect the home players from fan missiles, as they left the field at the end of the game. This despite them grinding out a 1-1 draw as the 13th place team hosting the league leaders. That night we all went out to a famous pizza place in the town, joined by Barry, and Irish traveller who had met Ali earlier in the trip. That's part one, I'm getting real lazy but it does require brain power I often don't have to recount the details I want to include. This worries me as in little over 2 months time my essay skills we be assessed once more... Part two will be the Machu Picchu adventure. Three should cover my 6 nights in Cusco upon return from MP. There should then be one blog from Mexico and one from Austin. I might also do a round up. I'm determined to have it all finished before I take off again to the US East coast with family on the 6th August. It will be far easier though and quicker on a laptop, than currently on my iPad.

[willswalkabout]

Buenos Aires

It's hard to know where to start with BA. Undoubtedly the most eventful 6 consecutive days of my trip. Some events I'll discuss in vaguer detail than I could, and maybe get in touch if you'd like to know more! I arrived late afternoon at Milhouse Hostel. It's a party hostel but with more heart than most. Every member of staff was awesome, and you really got to know them over the week. The way the nights worked, was that there was a party at the hostel, or its sister hostel across the street, until 2am. Once this rounded up you could buy discounted tickets to clubs. The first night was Saturday, and accordingly the biggest club of the week. The ticket we bought from the hostel included minibus travel there and queue jump. The only issue was that this used up all my cash, and that of 4 others. The club, with 4 rooms and an outside area was great, but we all realised our predicament at the same time as we came to leave. With no money and only one phone between us, there was pretty much no option but to walk the 5 miles back to the hostel. It meant that we left the club at 4:30am, not to get back until 7am. This should have been a forewarning for what was to come on the following nights. The next day was taken up almost entirely by my attendance at the Boca Juniors vs Union game. Going to a Boca game was on my bucket list, and it surpassed every possible expectation. Boca had won the title a week previous, so this was the crowning home coming party. The atmosphere started off lively, and then built to deafening noise from 20 minutes to go until the end. It's hard to explain what it was like to be in the middle of such a crowd, and I don't think I'll ever surpass such an experience. We had to be at the ground 4 hours in advance so we could get in with our technically illegal tickets. Boca run a strict members only policy which I respect, and I do feel slightly conflicted about being a football tourist, a trend at the Emirates that I loathe. There was partying in the streets late into the night, however not the streets your advised to go to as a tourist. I went to a club that evening with Andrew from Dallas, it wasn't great and so we left in search of a better bar. On the way to such bar I was somewhat attacked by a zombie looking meth-head (guess, I cannot confirm her condition). Luckily she only managed to rip my shirt apart, and steal about £25 worth from my pocket. A little shook up we ended the night at a local girl's 19th birthday party. The bar were very apologetic on behalf of the city, and gave me some antiseptic for the couple of deep scratches she'd managed to make with her nails. This was night one of an incredibly unlucky trilogy. The next day was pretty relaxed for the most part, just attending a tour of the Boca neighbourhood and Stadium with Museum, put on by the hostel. It is at this point that I'll introduce Roy de Booij, pronounced 'Roy de Boy'. This 6 foot 7 Dutchman was my partner in crime throughout my time in Buenos Aires, and one of the best people I have met on my trip. I do intend to visit him in Rotterdam at some point, and he has sold me very highly on Dutch lifestyle and cities. We went that night to an incredible steak restaurant with a friend he met in São Paulo. It was the best I have ever had by some distance. At some point pictures will follow on here. Our bromance was never stronger than this Monday night, as we won the hostel's beer pong tournament. We were the last pair standing from an original pool of 8. The fact we beat Americans on our way to immortality, a country where it is the national sport, made it even sweeter. We won hostel t'shirts as a result, with our names "Will and Grace" (Our team name, after the sit com), written on the back in permanent marker. After our victory we headed out to another club. This one was alright, though as we left (myself, Andrew, and a couple of other English guys), we soon realised we were being followed by 6 locals. Followed soon turned to chased. This was pretty exhilarating even if scary, and we lost them after a couple of blocks and got a cab back to the hostel, something we should have done in the first place. On Tuesday myself and Roy felt like we hadn't seen enough of the city, so took a stroll through town, followed by the nature park by the coast. This was after we'd been to the world famous Pizza Guerrin. In the Italian neighbourhood, the restaurant with an absolutely epic concoction of organised chaos, serving pizza by the huge slice. Mine was about 80% mozzarella, 10% tomato, and 10% base. It was unreal, and a must visit if in Buenos Aires. We walked back to the hostel via Galleria Pacifico, a high end shopping centre with a cathedral like mural on the ceiling. That evening was pretty uneventful for the most part, staying in the hostel. At the end of the night one of two Argentinian girls at the hostel had been somewhat abandoned, and didn't want to walk home alone. In retrospect and hindsight and all that great stuff, I should have considered my current run, and not helped out. The short of the story is that as we talked on the steps of her apartment we were encircled by 4 men, who requested her phone, and for an unknown reason....my shoes. Being left on the streets of Buenos Aires barefoot was not the greatest of situations, however I managed to get my hostel to order me a taxi. The bigger issue was that the whole saga caused me to miss my flight to Lima that was to depart at 6.30am that morning. So I stayed an extra two nights in BA, and booked a flight direct to Cusco for Friday, missing out Lima, of which little positive had been said. The next day I slept a lot, and made a visit to the police stadium to report the loss, so an insurance claim can be made hopefully for the missed flight and new shoes. I don't think the police quite knew why I was bothering with such a claim, and I did happen to turn up at the same time as left wing protest turned violent in the city centre. My last day involved visiting the current Pope's old digs, the cathedral, and buying some new shoes. It ended with one of the highlights of my trip. The circus/rave/party/dance show known as Fuerza Bruta. It was an incredible, and a frankly indescribable experience. It felt quite like Cirque de Soleil, but more intense and with audience participation. It was one of the most unique things I have seen on the trip, and again is not to be missed. That same night/morning I caught a 6am flight to Cusco, via Lima. I do look fondly on Buenos Aires, and there is still loads I would love to see that I couldn't manage this time. Yes, I could have been more streetwise at times, but my trip has been so incident free for the last 4+ months, that maybe I let my guard drop. It is a beautiful and lively city, and I am certain I will return. Tumblr has been playing up recently, when I try and add photos, so this will be a text only post, and I will try and add relevant photos from Chile and Argentina.

[willswalkabout]

CHILE After the mammoth journey to Valparaíso via Auckland and Santiago I eventually checked into my hostel on Sunday night. There was a walking tour company called 'tours for tips' that came highly recommended so the next day I did two of their tours in the city. 'Unseen Valparaíso' in the morning, and 'highlights' in the afternoon. Both were great. The first one focuses more on the plethora of street art in the city, and more about Chilean history, especially the years under the dictatorship. I really enjoyed this, and so in the afternoon did the highlights tour which had more on the Cathedrals and city hotspots. There should be some photos from both to come, however the WiFi in Cusco is pretty poor, so they may come at a later date. It was nice that the tours only cost me a self determined $5. That evening I went out with some guys I met on my tour, 3 Americans and a Brit. The restaurant had stunning views over the city and the sunset was unreal. The next day I headed to the city next door, Viña del Mar, which had a very different vibe, despite being only 10 minutes drive. It felt less touristy but was still packed with character and was probably a more livable place. I also went with the same tour company and this time had a private tour to myself which was great. We visited the amphitheater where The Police famously played during the dictatorship. It was a moment in the country's history very comparable to Bruce Springsteen's performance in East Berlin. That evening I had another lively discussion with this time an Australian conspiracy theorist. Luckily this time I wasn't staying in her treehouse. (Re-Koh Samui) On Wednesday I took the bus back to Santiago with Lucy, an Irish woman I had met on the first tour. She was probably the most travelled person I have ever met, and we explored the main shopping district and historical square of Santiago that afternoon. Sadly the hostel we checked into did not live up to any expectations, with an all but total lack of atmosphere, wifi, or helpful staff, and so the next day after doing my final 'tours for tips' excursion at the market and cemetery of Santiago, I moved to a different hostel in the more lively student populated Bella Vista neighbourhood. Here I met Matt, an English guy who had been on a Christian mission kind of thing in Chile and Argentina, and was about to finish his trip and return home. I also met Luke, a Texas college Republican, with a mum in the State Senate. I expect the majority of those reading this know I spent a couple of months in New Hampshire working for the Democrats last Autumn. Yet, despite our fairly in un-reconcilable differences we had a good discussion about guns (duh) and the current situation the GOP is in. The next day I went to the at times extremely chilling, Chilean museum of Human Rights. I would not regard myself as squeamish but few details were left out during the description of some of the tortures Pinochet's military government imposed on opponents. It is however a fantastic free museum ($3 for English audio guide), and a must visit for those going to Santiago. Another must visit is the hill of Cerro San Cristobal. You get an extremely old funicular up the hill, though you can walk or cycle (!) and have panoramic views of Santiago, which itself is bordered on 3 sides by the Andes mountains. One result of this is that the city's smog cannot escape. So below the tops of the Mountains sits a cloud like layer. They also have a Christ the Redeemer esc statue. It's a beautiful spot and though this time I was out of luck with the sunset the night scape was equally impressive, most similar to my experience in Hong Kong. That evening I met up with a girl who was in my Valparaíso hostel. I then got a flight the next morning to the nothing if not eventful Buenos Aires. Stories a plenty from which will be in the next blog. Although I only had about 5 1/2 visiting days in Chile I found it to be a beautiful country with great people and food, as well as completely indistinguishable Spanish! (Something which was better in Argentina, and tonnes better in Peru). I would love to visit again, and by the reviews of everyone I met, San Pedro de Atacama is certainly now on the list.

[willswalkabout]

Rotorua. With some nervous excitement I reboarded a plane to the other side of the planet, for what would be the 4th time in 3 months that I'd done the mammoth trip. Leaving Monday evening I didn't arrive until Wednesday morning. In Bangkok airport on the way, I'd followed the live text for the Lions fixture against the Highlanders. The disappointing loss only added to my anticipation for Saturday's game. I had to wait a couple of hours for my bus to Hamilton. I then got a nandos in Hamilton, before catching my final leg to Rotorua. After checking into my room at about 8pm I absolutely crashed. The next day I frustratingly had to move rooms, so checked out at 10 and went for a wonder. It takes about a day to get used to the smell of rotten eggs which smothers the town, and stems from the sulphur, (I don't know the science) emitted? Let's say emitted, from the hot springs. I went to a great exhibition about the NZ Maori team through the ages, and then on to the Polynesian Spa, where I had a very enjoyable couple of hours relaxing in pools of temperature 35-42'C, completely naturally heated from Priest Bay of lake Rotorua. That evening I went to the biggest Irish bar in town, but found that Lions fans hadn't quite arrived yet, the previous game being in the South Island, so had a pretty early night. The next day I was up early to go White Water Rafting. This was an exhilarating experience, the first time I'd done such an activity. For around 45 minutes we cruised down a stunningly beautiful River, and not so much cruised, but flopped down the world's highest commercially rafted waterfall, at 21ft. Pictures below. That evening was more fun, with the Lions having fully invaded Rotorua. I spent the evening with James and Brett, friends from Shanghai, and Trevor, a Kiwi living in Perth who had come over for the tour. The lions atmosphere is incredibly special, with fans from all sides and countries sharing drinks, laughs and stories. It's makes for an uniquely warm environment, and one I loved being a part of. The next day at midday I helped break the world record for the largest ever Haka, with approximately 7,700 people taking part, destroying the French's previous total of 4,000. It was a hilarious event, as organisers ran about town trying to boost the numbers, as half an hour out from the attempt we were only on 2,500. I then by pure chance met up with James and Brett again, and had a few more drinks, on Rotorua's "eat Street" which was now packed out with fans from both sides. The queue for the public buses was insanely long, but luckily we'd met up with a couple of other guys who had a car, so we packed in and drove to a side road about 10 minutes walk out from the ground. In the ground I met Ben Mills. I went to primary school with Ben and he lives 2 roads from me back in Highbury. He was part of a 70 man touring party with the Durham University Rugby Club. Sitting on the East coast of NZ, Rotorua is practically the furthest you can get from our homes in the UK, so it was a surreal and wonderful experience watching the game with him, a guy I've known since I was 4. Ben's the fifth friend I've been able to meet on the travels after Howard in Hong Kong, Kitty in Melbourne, and Eleanor and Ellen in NZ, and I've loved being able to do so. I've also now made new friends around the globe that I'll hope to see again if/when I pass through their respective cities in the future. Watching a Lions game live was a major tick on the bucket list, but I sure as hell hope it's not the last time I do so. Though the game was one of possession and attrition, nothing could take away from the spectacle. When I inevitably look back on this trip there is no doubt supporting the Lions in NZ will make my top five list. In the company of current contenders; walking the great wall of China, sleeping on Ha Long Bay, Philippino sunsets, and the Milford track. I didn't go out and celebrate, knowing I had to get a bus at 7.45am the next morning. I'm currently writing this that same Sunday evening. It has been a joke up this point. Having arrived at the airport at 1.30pm, knowing I'd already have to be here a while, I then got the news my flight was delayed from 6.15pm to 9.50pm. Despite this I'll still get to Santiago, Chile at 5pm, Sunday the 18th. From there I plan to get a bus to Valparaíso, the final stop of my longest travel day yet. I might as well post this one now though, and the start of my Chilean escapades will be in the next blog. As my stopwatch of awake hours hits 12, and I have 3 more before an 11.5 hour flight.... Over and out.

[willswalkabout]

Rotorua. With some nervous excitement I reboarded a plane to the other side of the planet, for what would be the 4th time in 3 months that I'd done the mammoth trip. Leaving Monday evening I didn't arrive until Wednesday morning. In Bangkok airport on the way, I'd followed the live text for the Lions fixture against the Highlanders. The disappointing loss only added to my anticipation for Saturday's game. I had to wait a couple of hours for my bus to Hamilton. I then got a nandos in Hamilton, before catching my final leg to Rotorua. After checking into my room at about 8pm I absolutely crashed. The next day I frustratingly had to move rooms, so checked out at 10 and went for a wonder. It takes about a day to get used to the smell of rotten eggs which smothers the town, and stems from the sulphur, (I don't know the science) emitted? Let's say emitted, from the hot springs. I went to a great exhibition about the NZ Maori team through the ages, and then on to the Polynesian Spa, where I had a very enjoyable couple of hours relaxing in pools of temperature 35-42'C, completely naturally heated from Priest Bay of lake Rotorua. That evening I went to the biggest Irish bar in town, but found that Lions fans hadn't quite arrived yet, the previous game being in the South Island, so had a pretty early night. The next day I was up early to go White Water Rafting. This was an exhilarating experience, the first time I'd done such an activity. For around 45 minutes we cruised down a stunningly beautiful River, and not so much cruised, but flopped down the world's highest commercially rafted waterfall, at 21ft. Pictures below. That evening was more fun, with the Lions having fully invaded Rotorua. I spent the evening with James and Brett, friends from Shanghai, and Trevor, a Kiwi living in Perth who had come over for the tour. The lions atmosphere is incredibly special, with fans from all sides and countries sharing drinks, laughs and stories. It's makes for an uniquely warm environment, and one I loved being a part of. The next day at midday I helped break the world record for the largest ever Haka, with approximately 7,700 people taking part, destroying the French's previous total of 4,000. It was a hilarious event, as organisers ran about town trying to boost the numbers, as half an hour out from the attempt we were only on 2,500. I then by pure chance met up with James and Brett again, and had a few more drinks, on Rotorua's "eat Street" which was now packed out with fans from both sides. The queue for the public buses was insanely long, but luckily we'd met up with a couple of other guys who had a car, so we packed in and drove to a side road about 10 minutes walk out from the ground. In the ground I met Ben Mills. I went to primary school with Ben and he lives 2 roads from me back in Highbury. He was part of a 70 man touring party with the Durham University Rugby Club. Sitting on the East coast of NZ, Rotorua is practically the furthest you can get from our homes in the UK, so it was a surreal and wonderful experience watching the game with him, a guy I've known since I was 4. Ben's the fifth friend I've been able to meet on the travels after Howard in Hong Kong, Kitty in Melbourne, and Eleanor and Ellen in NZ, and I've loved being able to do so. I've also now made new friends around the globe that I'll hope to see again if/when I pass through their respective cities in the future. Watching a Lions game live was a major tick on the bucket list, but I sure as hell hope it's not the last time I do so. Though the game was one of possession and attrition, nothing could take away from the spectacle. When I inevitably look back on this trip there is no doubt supporting the Lions in NZ will make my top five list. In the company of current contenders; walking the great wall of China, sleeping on Ha Long Bay, Philippino sunsets, and the Milford track. I didn't go out and celebrate, knowing I had to get a bus at 7.45am the next morning. I'm currently writing this that same Sunday evening. It has been a joke up this point. Having arrived at the airport at 1.30pm, knowing I'd already have to be here a while, I then got the news my flight was delayed from 6.15pm to 9.50pm. Despite this I'll still get to Santiago, Chile at 5pm, Sunday the 18th. From there I plan to get a bus to Valparaíso, the final stop of my longest travel day yet. I might as well post this one now though, and the start of my Chilean escapades will be in the next blog. As my stopwatch of awake hours hits 12, and I have 3 more before an 11.5 hour flight.... Over and out.

[willswalkabout]

What happened

So at the end of my last post I’d finished travelling with Eleanor in Queenstown, that was on 18th April, so nearly 2 months later, what happened? It’s complicated, so I’ll try and make it succinct. I went to stay 2 nights in Geraldine, at a small BnB in the middle of pretty much nowhere. I was ill most of this time, and it was just to break up the long trip from Queenstown to Ashburton, where I was to start a job. On arrival in Ashburton it was chaos. I went to get the job (potato grading on a farm) that afternoon, and then had to run to the bank to get a NZ bank account so I could be employed. I was also told I needed an National Insurance number so that I could be taxed, but that this would only take a couple of days to come through. I finally moved in with Doug. Doug was a local who lived very close to the job agency (pickup point for the days work) and was a contact given to me by a friend Kit, who I had met on Duke of Edinburgh a couple of years ago. Kit was a farmer and was driving tractors on the same farms where I would be grading. The tractor drivers, being guys with experience, are higher up on the pay scale. I hope you’re following.

The work wasn’t quite what I was expecting. Pick up by the minivans was at 05:30, you then worked from 07:00 to about 19:00, with one 45 minute lunch, and two 15 minute tea breaks. It wasn’t at all challenging, but monotonous, boring, and the time went horrifically slow. However don’t get me wrong, at ~£8.50 an hour I was happy to do it for the next 4 weeks, with the aim of hopefully travelling for another 3 with the money earned. I didn’t have this money yet, and would also need the income to pay rent etc. There were 2 other issues with the job. Given I had to drop my car back in Christchurch three days later, I wouldn’t be able to use it in the evenings to buy any food. Food itself was problematic, with little time in the morning to prepare it, I was worried I would eat incredibly badly the whole time and wouldn’t have the energy for the days ahead, which usually ran six at a time. The other issue was that if it did rain, there was no harvest, and so no work, and so no pay. It would mean I would run out of money fairly fast and then struggle to have anything to do on these days, with no car. However these were minor issues in comparison to the bombshell that was to drop from one of my co-workers, that it had taken her 5 weeks to get her national insurance number. No number, no pay. Though my application had been sent off, if I didn’t get paid for even 3 weeks my bank balance would be scarily low, and it would be hard to find the motivation to work such hours in the situation. With some members of my family back home not in the greatest of shape, I made the executive call to pack it in, I know, after 1 days work. Hopefully you’ll see there were many factors in this decision.

My uncle had friends on the island of Waiheke, just off Auckland. I stayed one more night in Ashburton, before driving to Christchurch for two nights. After exploring Christchurch which is basically a large building site post earthquake, I drove to the airport and flew to Auckland. I had a fantastic time in Waiheke, where I was for a week, until my flight home, (it was a week until a flight I could afford). My hosts Nick and Beth, and the dog Rogue were incredibly welcoming, and allowed me to use their car to further explore the beautiful island, I gave paddle boarding a go, swam, and generally relaxed and consolidated where I was at.

I then flew home on 4 different flights, via Sydney, Bangkok and Dubai, arriving home on 4th May. I do not regret this decision, and will give a rapid roundup of how I’ve spent the five and a bit weeks back on British soil.

I’ve tried to put as much as possible in the pictures below, so will keep it brief. I saw 3 very different performers, grime artist Stormzy, US Senator Bernie Sanders, and Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. I went to three Arsenal games where we beat United, Everton and an incredible FA cup final win against Chelsea. I went to Durham twice to visit Ellen which was fantastic. I built 7 flat packs as part of working for Task Rabbit, earning me some much needed funds for the second leg of this trip. I had a birthday, and so creds to mum and dad for the fact I’m now writing this on a MacBook Air. Oh, and Theresa May lost her majority.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Now I fly back to New Zealand, and then on to Rotorua. All in all a 36 hour or so journey door to door. White water rafting, and a British and Irish Lions fixture are planned for Friday and Saturday. After that, east to S.America and Chile, making this quite literally a round the world trip.

I’ll try and make these more weekly if I can.

[willswalkabout]

Kepler and Frankton Where I left off I had just returned to Te Anau, the biggest town in the Fjordland area, and where 3 of the 9 great walks leave from. It is also unsurprisingly on the shore of Lake Te Anau which breaks all kind of records in the exciting, 'body of water' category. I'll let you research that yourself if you're so inclined. The Milford Track's draining effect physically truly set in over the next couple of days, particularly as a result of that awful last day of weather. It also turned out Eleanor had injured her ankle. We visited a doctors surgery in Te Anau. Not only can I not now tell you what reasoning he came up with because it was so odd, but I also don't believe he really had a clue. What was true was that Eleanor couldn't get her boot on. Te Anau, though quaint and cheerful, was not somewhere people spend much time, especially without a car, it's more of a gateway. I therefore didn't want Eleanor to hang around in it too long while I walked the Kepler track, so decided to walk the ~44km in 2 days, as opposed to the advised 3/4. The track is beautiful, known especially for the ridge line most people experience in day two of four. I walked it on my second and final day, as I after some advice on wind direction I did the trek it in reverse. There's less detail to be said regarding Kepler, other than the fact I loved being totally alone, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains. I would walk for hours seeing less than a handful of other walkers. This is not to disparage my companions of the last few weeks, but it was something I hadn't yet experienced on the trip. There were some breathtaking moments, such as when the peaks of mountains would emerge out of the dense cloud, and when I walked the final five kilometres back along the lake I'd started out at. The hut I stayed at overnight was warm and friendly, and I even bumped into a couple that had walked the Milford with us. It was all going well in fact, until I did finish. You see there's ten kilometres between the effective start and finish car parks. Some people take a shuttle between them, others walk the extra 10km when they finish. Due to time and fatigue neither of these were options to me. Hitchhiking it was. The first car came immediately but only took me from the car park to the main road. There was still 9.5km to go. Then I must have been passed by nearly 100. What was frustrating as they will have mostly known that the road only goes one way, back lanes aren't common in NZ, and they certainly aren't being used by backpackers. Eventually my tactic of waving a packet of Chocolate buttons in the road paid off, as a camper with a German and Canadian girl picked me up. Where I went wrong was accepting their offer of taking me to a point 3km away from destination, as against all odds this is where their hostel was. It would have been less than 2 minutes to drive, but another hour to walk. At this point it was getting dark and had started to rain. I wasn't feeling overly positive about the whole ordeal. Luckily for me about 50 cars later an incredibly kind woman took pity and gave me a lift, including the gravel lane which went down into the carpark. She said that she only picked people up in the rain, based on an experience many years ago when she was desperate, walking Hadrian's wall, and a kind Scotsman picked her up. I met Eleanor at the hostel, at which point I could hardly walk, and we proceeded to an Air BnB we had booked in Frankton for a couple of nights, about 10 minutes outside Queenstown. It felt like a long hour and half drive in the dark given the last two day's exploits. There was however the relief of the latest Now Show episode, that I'd managed to download. We did get a mandatory Ferg-Burger in Queenstown. It is a take out burger place that has huge queues, we waited 50 minutes for the order. However I can't honestly think of a better burger I've ever had and its reputation, covered by international media outlets in the past, is well deserved. I also attended the Easter Sunday service in Queenstown. This was certainly, erm, something. The vicar was quite a character, something I determined right from the off as he treated us to a solo performance of a 'Peruvian Gloria'. He continued to somewhat randomly burst into song, but unlike an evangelical gospel like situation, it wasn't as if the congregation were there with him. Even the regulars seemed to share the bemusement of the many visitors. It was no doubt friendly, and I had a nice conversation with a retired nurse who had practiced in Bow, East London in the 60s. You do find that everyone in NZ, can tick a minimum of one of the following boxes. Lived in London Have a sibling in the UK Have a child in the UK Was born in the UK It makes for good conversation that's for sure, I'm going to be looking out for Kiwis when I'm back. In the next blog I'll cover a couple of days back in Wanaka, this time with Eleanor. A crazy night out in Queenstown dominated by Tim Farron, two forgettable days in Geraldine, and two unforgettable in Ashburton.

[willswalkabout]

So I'm easily 3 weeks behind on this blog now and for that I'm frustrated but I've been a mixture of busy/stressed/tired over that time. Understandably it means I'm now going to round up those 3 weeks in more of a block like form than day by day. On meeting Eleanor in Queenstown we had 3 nights where we mostly planned for the Milford Track. We needed to buy food not only to get us through the days on the track, but also for the next 3 days in the hostel. We bought a mixture of carbs and pure sugar for the track, including one dehydrated meal. Meanwhile we were both feeling a lack of 'proper' food over the past few days and so cooked stir fry amongst other things in the hostel. We also did a couple of practice walks, one of which was up Queenstown Hill, the view from which is the first photo here. On Friday we set out for Te Anau, where the bus that takes you to the ferry to start the track, leaves from. I had the meet time in my head wrong by half an hour so we were lucky to even get started, but the ferry to the start was simply stunning. It is indeed a cruise many people pay for as a one off activity, through Milford sound, so we were lucky to have it as part of the day. It was here that we first met the 'guided walkers'. We didn't know they were a thing previously but it meant that they were to stay in lodges along the route, fully catered and with showers and heating. There was immediately a semi-put on tension between what did feel like an 'us' and 'them' situation. It meant they only had to carry small day packs, in comparison to us with 50L+. The rest of the first day to the hut was very easy and only about 5km. The huts have one big eating area with drinking water and gas, as well as a couple of bunk rooms. No heating or showers etc but cosy enough. The group was 40, mostly couples and small groups of friends, as well as one big Singaporean team of around 10. They provided the most amusement. Coming with possibly the least hiking experience, evident in the array of shiny new kit, they approached the challenge with no lack of enthusiasm. They were also by far the best cooks, though this may have been their downfall. They brought ludicrous amounts of food, and no meal was taken lightly. They would leave later than anyone else in the mornings as not only was breakfast properly cooked, but so was lunch. Day 2 was a beautiful day with a mix of dense jungle and open prairie. Unsure of the next day's weather, I took the option of going the extra 4k up the mountain to see the Mackinnon Pass on a clear day. 7 of us did this without packs, as we got in before 4pm. I was so relieved to have the pack off my back, and ran the route which was all uphill, in 37 minutes. The pass was glorious and it was well worth it, as there was no guarantee it would be clear the next day. When we got back about 630 the Singaporean group were still not back and did not do till about 9. This repeated itself the next day, but even later. Day 3 had the ascent up the pass again for me, and though it was clear I had no regrets about the day before. After climbing a little further we reached a toilet with a view buzz feed had rated one of the best in the world, there is a huge window in the door so such view can be admired while you're doing your business. I also showered under NZ's tallest free flowing waterfall. The spray from this was incredibly powerful and the water freezing. I think it was a spontaneous only here once type of decision. Then there was a long descent to our hut, down long winding switchbacks. The Singaporeans rather passionately voiced their discontent at the fact the guided walkers are allowed to use the toilets of our hut, yet we are not allowed to use those of their lodge, much to the amusement to the rest of us. The last day was disgusting weather. Eleanor's foot was giving her increasing discomfort and so we pretty much marched it, with the the sole aim of catching the 2pm boat back to Milford Sound, which we'd then have to then get a coach to Te Anau from. It was wet and foggy, which actually made the walk all the more mystical. What makes the walk so stunning is not necessarily breathtaking views throughout, but more the tremendous variety of what you see. From glaciers to rainforests to bright blue rapids, all the while feeling like you're the only people for hundreds of miles. The land feels untouched, all you hear are the sounds of the birds, and the stars are incredible. It was an experience like no other. That's the first section of this catch up, next I'll write the few days in Te Anau, the Kepler track, and a couple of nights back in Queenstown.

[willswalkabout]

I wanted to add more, these go with the road trip post.

[willswalkabout]

New Zealand. I've put off writing this blog for an obscenely long period of time. And it really isn't that I didn't have the opportunity. I think I just know it takes time so it does become daunting, and this only increases as the amount to get in also becomes greater. Technically it's now been a day under 3 weeks since I last posted (at the time of writing). I'm sitting in a hut on the Kepler track so won't be able to post till tomorrow night at the earliest. The plan is to split it into 3 but we'll see how it goes. When I last wrote I was about to land in Auckland and join up with Ellen so I'll pick up from there. I got into Auckland very late and then exiting the airport took ages as my tent had to go through customs. It had been tightly wrapped for storage but was returned to me in one massive pile of material, as they'd had to somehow inspect every inch. Eventually I got an uber to the air BnB Ellen was staying in. She'd had the last two nights on the island of Waiheke, with some contacts called Nick and Beth, who I hope to visit later in the trip. The next day we started a 9 day road trip to Queenstown, during which we would cover a total of 1418 miles. The descriptions of these days may seem pretty lightweight, but there was often a lot of driving. We learnt to embrace this and just enjoy the stunning scenery, but this acceptance was not immediate. Day 1 we picked up the car and trying to do a decent amount of shopping that would hopefully cover us for the majority of the trip. We drove to our campsite on the South side of lake Taupo, via a visit to the Huka falls. The campsite was really nice and though we'd actually had a booking for the day before we successfully convinced the campsite this wasn't the case and managed to keep the night. My all in one stove was used for the first time since early September, to great success as we dined on mushroom risotto. Day 2 we drove to Wellington, one of NZ's 3 biggest cities. We would have been doing the volcanic Tongariro crossing however sadly the weather meant it was closed. Wellington is supposed to be quite young and hip however sadly we didn't get to indulge in this culture due to the long drive. We did however visit New Zealand's national museum which had some very impressive exhibitions on their immigration history, as well as involvement at Gallipoli. We stayed the night at our weirdest air BnB experience. The house belonged to an elderly man who had appeared to have resorted to living and sleeping in his living room so that all his bedrooms could be rented out. However this meant that the wardrobes were full of his clothes, and stuffed toys filled the property. It was a little creepy, and after a long days driving we took advantage that evening of NZ having cheap dominos. Having spoken to people later in the trip it seems Wellington was not done justice and I would like to return. Day 3 involved getting the 9am ferry across the Cook Straight, to Picton on the South Island. It's quite an expensive crossing when you're taking a car, however the 4 hours are beautiful, especially as you meander into Picton harbour, a route which is hard to describe in words so I'd advise looking up Picton on a map. The ferry had a couple of nice restaurants and we got chips, before disembarking to drive along the stunning Queen Charlotte's drive. It is viewpoint after viewpoint as you begin to round the island's north coast, making it sometimes difficult to keep your eyes on the road. We drove to a beautiful Department of Conservation (DOC) campsite which was practically deserted. We also made a trip to the beautiful Cable Bay beach, with white sand deceptively cold water. After stocking up on supplies in Nelson we went back and made some pretty decent pasta that night. Day 4 was a very long drive to Abel Tasman, probably the only real disappointment of the trip. Though it was fun to pick up a German hitchhiker for part of the day, the drive was long and windy, and what met us at the end was a tad underwhelming. This campsite was also empty but felt like it would be packed during the summer. I had read about opportunities to rent kayaks and do other watersport activities, however on consulting the workers of the campsite this is a summer season thing, and nobody comes with the kit when they are not going to be in demand. We did do one beach walk before making some noodles and going to bed before we were eaten alive by the resident sand flies. Day 5 and we had to get to Punakaiki on the north west coast. The five hour drive was daunting at first but turned out to be very manageable, assisted by good ice cream about half way through. We both loved Punakaiki and its famous 'pancake rocks', which look like a stack of American variety. There was a beautiful prehistoric looking beach where it was overlooked by a dense rainforest. We managed to use the shadows created by the sunset to take some awesome photos, and had a very lazy pot noodle for dinner. There was a massive Aussie cub camp group at the campsite, whose antics and irritation of the leaders provided amusement. Day 6 we drove down the Franz Josef Glacier. We stopped on the way to do a short walk in the town of Ross, known for its gold mining past. We also bought some chocolate hot cross buns, something I've found many of in Australia and New Zealand, for the trip. After 3 consecutive nights camping and with 2 more to come we decided to take a night off and stay in a hostel. We chose a good one too, as we ended up getting a 4 bed dorm all to ourselves, and were able to wash our clothes and use their fully kitted out kitchen. The 1 hour walk to the glacier was a whole experience in itself, and added yet another landform to our incredibly varied list from NZ so far. We spent the evening chatting to some Germans, who I'm convinced have now overtaken Kiwis in terms of most populous nationality in the country. Day 7 was one of the best drives of the trip, down to Wanaka, past lakes Wanaka and Hawea. We had actually planned to stay at a campsite between the two lakes which didn't need booking. Though on arrival there were no other campers, it was off the highway, and generally had nothing going for it with zero cooking facilities. We chose to drive on to our site in Wanaka and stay for 2 nights. This was the campsite with the best view by a long way, looking out straight onto the lake. Wanaka is a gorgeous lakeside settlement with mostly high end restaurants along the front, with a couple more affordable. We got fish and chips, and a falafel burger. Day 8 was nice as we didn't have to clear out in the morning, having the pitch for 2 nights. We had three plans for the day and in the end only managed about one and a bit. We first planned to paddle board, as Ellen had so enjoyed doing in Waiheke. However the sun was deceiving and instead we settled for a pie, from some shop that had won way to many awards not to be investigated. We did however go to Puzzle World, probably the oddest attraction I have ever seen. It is one pretty odd dude's dream, and is a mixture of illusion rooms and a massive maze. It's hard to describe exactly what the rooms were but they made you feel like you were on a steep slope when in fact you weren't. Whereas another had over 200 concave faces that all followed you around the room as you moved. The maze was also not messing around and was exhausting. We did the 'easy challenge' which was supposed to take a maximum of 90 minutes. We laughed at this estimation, believing ourselves to be decently intelligent. It took us 107. In the afternoon we attempted to do the Roy's peak track. We had massively underestimated its difficulty and duration, as well as Ellen's hamstring situation which is still feeling the effects of a tear suffered last year. That evening we had a massive bowl of pasta and went to bed pretty early. Day 9 marked the end of the trip, and we drove the hour and 15 to Queenstown. We'd booked a hotel for this night, our last before around the 25th July in nearly 4 months time. After a swim in the hotel's pool, we had a short look around the town and went to a great Thai place for dinner. After the past 9 nights accommodation we did also order room service chips solely for the experience. The next morning we had the hotel's buffet breakfast and I dropped Ellen off at the airport for her 11am flight. She was to go to Auckland, followed by a 12 hour layover in Beijing and then home. A total journey time of well over 40 hours. It will be tough not seeing her for so long but I'm also incredibly grateful she made New Zealand work around university holidays, and we had an amazing 10 or so days. In the next post I'll meet up with Eleanor, a school friend, the same day Ellen was dropped off, and spend a few days in Queenstown before the Milford Track.