MACHU PICCHU

I had actually experienced mild attitude sickness in Arequipa so I was geared up with coca leaves, aspirin and other local herbs in preparation for the height in Cusco and Machu Picchu.

When first arriving in Peru, I had no intention of doing Machu Picchu but it’s a very big part of why so many people visit Peru, so thought I’d better check out what all the fuss is about.



After speaking with a number of people, I decided to do the trek through the Inca Jungle in the Luna Valley, avoiding the mass of other tourists as much as possible. I booked my flight from Cusco to Lima last week for the 23rd of December. As I did not receive the email ticket confirmation as promised, I decided to visit the airlines principal office when I arrived in Cusco to confirm the reservation. I found out that the booking was made incorrectly (strictly for Peruvian Citizens) and that the fare on that day was no longer available. I had to change my flight to the following day, thankfully still making it to Lima in time for Christmas with the kids.



I had initially booked the 3 day trek to Machu Picchu but I was able to change it without penalty to the preferred 4 day journey after learning my flight was a day later.

The first day started at 7am with a walk to meet other eager strangers doing the same adventure. We hoped on a mini bus and started the 2 hour steep drive up the mountain for our 52km downhill mountain bike ride. As predicted, it was cold and raining and the protective gear and bikes were in grave need of repair. One of the bikes was unrideable so the guide decided we could make it down without him.



The ride was a slow, wet and muddy. It took about 5 hours to reach the bottom where we packed the bikes and drove to lunch which was also where we were to stay for the night. It was 3pm and we had the choice to chill out for the afternoon or go white water rafting. I decided to stay in but those who went rafting had a great time.

We had dinner around 7 and most people went out drinking (it was a very small town, population of 100 people, but of course, there was a pub). One young lady had a little too much and vomited all over the dorm floor en route to the toilet. I was grateful for being in another room.

We were up and at breakfast by 7 and on the road by 7.30. Day 2 was the toughest – it was a 12 hour day and 9 solid hours of it were hiking. Some of the terrain was flat and relatively easy going but most of it was uphill and tough. But the views were definitely worth it.



We stopped at many little huts and villages along the way where locals make their money selling food and water to struggling tourists. One of them had a pet monkey. Very cute but cunning little blighter. It reached into one guys pocket and grabbed some money – refused to give it back then ate it.

At the end of the day, we were rewarded with a dip in the hot springs. At the pools we were given the choice to stay
there and pay $4 to get a bus to the next village where we were staying, or walk 1 hour uphill. I walked, but 8 out of the 11 in our group stayed.

At dinner I learnt that I was the only one who had not signed up for the zip line the following morning. While eating they showed a video of what to expect and I was hooked! Not knowing what it was and deciding on the 4 day trip at the last minute, I chose not to partake in any of the ‘extras’ at the time. Had I not have done the zip line; I could have hiked the extra 3 hours it took to meet the rest of the group.

The zip line was like a giant flying fox that stretched high over a deep valley and the biggest surprise of all was that there weren’t just 1, but 6 cables to scream down. It was so much fun I squealed with joy for the first 2 and then on the 4th where I hung upside down then let my arms and legs hang hundreds of metres above the gully being held only by a cable at the waist. What a rush!



The meals on the trip were really great. Breakfast was bread and jam with omelette or pancake and lunch and dinner always started with a soup or salad and bread, then a main meal and juice. The accommodation was also pretty good. Hot showers were scarce, and the rooms were noisy but nothing earplugs and a tough up attitude couldn’t fix.

Day 3 was the zip line in the morning and 4 hour trek to Aguas Calientes (the base town for Machu Picchu) in the afternoon. We had no clean or dry clothes left. Each day it rained – not terribly heavy but a steady drizzle to ensure we were wet through. Our shoes were soaked from the first 5 min into the ride on the first day, but no one seemed to mind much.



The afternoon on the 3rd day flew by – although our legs were a little tired and sore from the day before, the rush from the morning’s activities and anticipation of reaching Machu Picchu was noticeable. Most of the walk was flat and followed train tracks. At one point the tracks were blocked off by a massive landslide that they were working double time on to clear. It happened less than an hour before our arrival. From Machu Picchu the next day we would see the distant clearing the mud had made down the side of the mountain. It destroyed everything in its path – must have made a terrifying sound. To bypass the mass, we took a dense muddy track through the bush in a storm and passed some homes that escaped the onslaught by less than 100 metres.



Shortly after getting back on the track, the rain had begun subsiding when we saw the brightest rainbow I have ever seen in my life. The colours were so brilliant, vibrant and clear I was speechless. It was magical. We must have stood there for more than 10 minutes as it reached its full strength before fading. Once again a photo does not demonstrate the intensity of what we saw with our naked eye, but I’m counting on it that you can imagine.

We knew we were getting close to Aguas Calientes when our guide pointed out
where the ruins were on top of a mountain and the towering peak to its left knows as Huayna Picchu. We reached the town on sunset. Pretty little place.

We had dinner, was given our briefing for the following day and a packed breakfast to take with us. We went to bed listening to the heavy rain outside. Our alarms were set for 4am.

At 4am it was still raining hard out our windows. We packed our breakfast, jumper, water and cameras then slipped on our cold soggy shoes and headed for the mountain. I almost ran to the entrance I was so excited. As days went on, I heard more stories of the amazing life of the Inca people and their fascinating history.



In addition to the ruins of Machu Picchu, we had the choice to climb the neighbouring mountain called Huayna Picchu where the views were reported to be stunning. There are only 2 entrance times and a limited number of people that are permitted to enter Huayna Picchu. Half the group had tickets at 7am and the other half at 10am. I had the earlier time which meant exploring Machu Picchu after.

Not everyone chose to do this steep mountain. It is known as a gruelling climb and many were too tired. Even though I had heard others speak of how steep and slippery the steps were, I did not fully appreciate just how tough it would be. It is high, very high and very steep. There are only 400 people allowed to summit this peak each day. This is due to a tourist dying just a few years ago after a struggle broke out with too many people fighting for a view of Machu Picchu.



It was wet and cloudy all morning but the breaks in the clouds gave way to a stunning view above the ruins. There were numerous viewing areas and the higher we ascended, the more beautiful the picture.

It took about 45 min to reach the top. I tried not to look back; it only sent my heart racing before its time. One man in his 50s was taking each step on his backside willing himself to inch his way down. It was obvious he was petrified of heights.



When it was time to descend, I found myself taking very slow steady steps. They were very steep, very small and very slippery. I don’t recall if I have ever felt afraid of heights but my legs were shaking terribly. I was in a little cave at the top taking shelter from the rain and wind when I heard someone above me slip down a large rock. I think that put a little fear into my system.

Reaching the bottom of Huayna Picchu was exhausting but invigorating. I definitely felt relief and also a sense of accomplishment. I was ready to explore the ruins I had spent the last 2 hours admiring from above.

It was nothing short of remarkable. I was completely captivated by its beauty. I kept shaking my head thinking how wrong I had been not actually wanting to see the ‘too touristy’ place of Machu Picchu. I am not entirely sure why or when I changed my mind, but the influence of the other girls in the volunteer house played a big part in convincing me and for that I thank them.



Thinking back, even now, I am in awe of the beauty I witnessed at Machu Picchu. I had no understanding and no expectation of the ruins and its history. I believe this is why I found it so impressive. Our guide walked us though the broken rooms and corridors explaining it in such detail that to close my eyes, the visions were vivid. The city stands out on top of a mountain with splendid views stretching for miles over the valley. How the Spanish never found all those years ago it is a miracle.



By about midday, the rain stopped, clouds cleared and the weather was absolutely perfect for finding a nice spot looking over the ruins to soak it all in. We spent most of the morning looking around on our own but met up at various points and left the mountain together around 3pm. Most took the bus down, tired, but a guy and myself decided to walk. Well we started to walk, then jog, then picked up the pace almost beating the bus down which had to descend the long windy road with sweeping bends. I had to stretch at the end. I hadn’t run in a long time.

After getting back to Aguas Calientes, we found a nice little restaurant for lunch and pass the time until our train left for Cusco at 7. Having checked out of the hostel that morning, we were not able to have a shower but we were mostly dry by this stage and the weather was warm.



The train was surprisingly flash and comfortable. We all had first class tickets with windows surrounding the roof and walls of the cabin. It was a shame it was dark outside but a really nice trip all the same. About an hour later we arrived at another station where we took a bus for another 2 ½ hours to Cusco. It was just after 11pm when we parted ways with quick goodbyes (it was very cold) and each walked back to our accommodation. I slept soundly.

I woke up around 7 to the ladies in the hostel preparing chicken for Christmas dinner. The aromas were mouth-watering. After breakfast and checking my email, I headed for the airport. I was on the plane by 11am bound for Lima to see my host family, other volunteers and kids in the orphanage for Christmas. I was excited.

Back in Peru - Arequipa

It is very exciting to be back in Peru. It feels familiar.

For the first time, I did not have the option to travel on an overnight bus. The trip from La Paz in Bolivia to Puno in Peru only make the journey in the daylight and left at 7.30am. I read it is due to the border crossing not being open after dark due to safety protocol. Again, a pretty dodgy crossing but the view was really lovely. I chose a slightly more expensive company with a high safety record.

I spent a few hours wondering Puno which is known for the world’s largest navigable lake. I was not interested in spending the night and visiting the floating islands, so decided to continue on to Arequipa.

Papa Juan (host Dad in Lima) suggested days after arriving, that if I ever have the chance to explore Peru, I must visit Arequipa, known for its friendly people and the Colca Canyon. For the most part, everyone one I have met in Lima are very helpful, friendly and kind. But he was right, the people in Arequipa are so very sweet and genuine I wanted to hug them all.

The city, especially the town centre (Plaza de Armas) was beautiful, clean, easy to get around and with its old buildings very well maintained.


I had 3 nights in Arequipa and took a tour to see the Colca Canyon on the second day. I didn’t know much of its history before arriving so it was a truly interesting trip. It was a very long day starting at 2.15am! And although I expected a larger gully (more like the Grand Canyon) it was definitely worth the visit. We hiked into the Canyon for a couple of hours and literally 15 min before getting back on the bus, we saw our first Condor. We saw 6 in total and they were magical to watch. And big!! Whoa, an adult wingspan reaches in excess of 10 feet long. One of the largest birds in the world, they live up to 70 years of age and with only ever 1 partner – the guide said that when one of the pair dies, the other will also perish immediately after.

The journey out there was on rough roads that were busy with locals herding their livestock and supplies. We stopped by a number of small villages along the way, each with something a little special to share - animals, food, plants, culture, clothes... I particularly liked cuddling with the baby Llama – very cute. Each of these teeny towns thrived on tourism, they greeted us so warmly without badgering us to buy items from them and who still gave us a jovial send-off even if we didn’t’ put our hands in our pockets. I hope this never changes.


There were many local ladies selling thier trinkets on the edge of cliff. Everything was held down by rocks as the wind often arrived, strong and without warning.

The canyon, animals and plants were really beautiful. Another great wonder in the world. The hostel I stayed in had various sister hostels around Peru and one of them in Cusco, so I was able to gather a lot of different information about Macchu Pichu – my next destination and last stop before Lima!


Today (18 Dec) was the 9th anniversary of my sister Regina passing. I thought of her and my family a lot. Many happy memories. I miss her.


As I write this, I am on the overnight bus to Cuzco. The bus company, Cruz del Sur, is popular with the Gringo’s (white people) for its safety and luxury. Right before the bus leaves, they come on with a video camera and record every person sitting in their respective seats. They offer us food, play movies and even bingo – yes BINGO!! I couldn’t’ believe it – the hostess handed out the cards (where you press the numbers out of their holes - reusable) and proceeded in announcing the numbers in Spanish and English over their speaker system. I was so entertained with watching others getting into it that I chose not to play. I have no idea what the winner received.


I will be staying with the same chain of hostel that I stayed in Arequipa, very pleasant family who offered me a discount to continue staying with them – very convenient for me. The arrangements have been made and I will be collected at the bus terminal for free.

Bolivia - Death Road

The owners of the hostel I stayed at in San Pedro advised me to sit on the left hand side of the bus from Arica in Chile to La Paz in Bolivia for the scenery, so I did. It was a very enjoyable drive for the first hour until we descended high into the mountains and I looked down to see 6 or 7 trucks and busses down the bottom of a very steep gully. It sent chills through my entire body. They looked like toy trucks. I closed the curtain for a while. How did this Alpaca get here? By walking the dangerous road, dodging traffic we imagine - the cliffs either side were too steep to scramble for many kilometres. I wonder..

Compared to other South American countries I have recently visited, the drivers in Bolivia are a reckless – perhaps on par with Kenya. There were a lot of road works taking place and I counted 6 accidents – one was a truck with its right front end smashed and hanging just over the cliff with a might big drop down. I think silent prayers through the whole bus were keeping us ticking. It was a very long 13 hour trip.


About an hour before the border into Bolivia (one of the highest border crossing in the world) it started to rain hard. When reaching the border we had to stand in the rain to collect our bags then wait for Immigration to do their thing. One young lady from Hong Kong was taken off the bus first (while the rest of us waited about 40min). When we entered the building we learnt that she had been detained. She was upset and distressed. They had confiscated her passport and would not tell her what was going on. We think she may have needed a visa as she did not have one. Unfortunately we had to leave her there. The scariest reports I have heard about border crossings are those in Bolivia. I hope she is ok.


It rained all the way to La Paz only to get soaked again when unloading our luggage. I then waited 20 min with about 15 other locals who were in line before me for a taxi that never came. I figured I was already wet through, so walked the 2km to my hostel. It was 9pm and I welcomed the hot shower and comfortable bed that was waiting for me.

As soon as I arrived to the hostel and checked in, I organised the tour I had heard so much about and the 1 reason I decided to make the journey to Bolivia. To ride the ‘Death Road’ – known as the worlds most dangerous road (WMDR). I was excited but still slept soundly.

I woke up before my alarm at 6.50am, had a shower and waited patiently for the tour guys to arrive at 7.30. I went with the company called Overdose and they were brilliant. It was a 1 ½ hour climb to the top of the mountain (4,700m) where we were greeted with snow and a brisk - 4˚C!

We were given wind jackets, wind pants, gloves, knee pads, shoulder pads and helmets. The experienced guides were great at giving safety instruction and then gave us our bikes to try out. I was shocked at the number of riders who had little to no experience on a bike. The journey down was slow in a combination of heavy fog, rain and sleet.


The first 30km was a good asphalt surface to get used to the bikes. We spent most of it riding through thick cloud and felt the painful sensation of the numbness working from the finger tips passing through the knuckles – our feet were also numb as were our exposed faces – it was a struggle to talk without sounding like we just had 4 wisdom teeth extracted.

Then we reached the gravel road marking the beginning of the Death Road. Again we were high in the clouds which I believe was a blessing as it allowed many of us to breathe normally – some weren’t yet ready to witness the several hundred metre drop with the unsteady surfaced road and no barrier protection!

The last tourist mountain biker to die on this road was in May. It was a young Japanese girl. Until the new road was built in 2006, an average of 200 people perished on this road each year – many of them locals on crammed buses. Having now ridden it, I can easily see how. The roads are so narrow, the corners blind and tight. There are few safety barriers and few who travel at slow enough speeds to avoid the oncoming traffic. Frankly, I am surprised that not more inexperienced mountain bikers haven’t taken flight off the edge. I am thankful we had sensible, safe guides to keep egos at bay.

About half way down the WMDR, the clouds cleared (or rather we rode below them) and we could finally appreciate the spectacular view. It was a rather hairy sight, but remarkable. One lady was so frightened she stuck as close to the inside cliff as possible, only to come unstuck and face plant into the tiny stream weaving its way throught the rocks cars fling to the side. It didn't take long for her to realise that there were less loose rocks and safer a litle more toward the centre.

The ride was a total of 64km – predominately downhill. It took approximately 4 hours with stops for rest and regathering, snacks and equipment checks. With the weather so bitterly cold at the top, we had a number of layers on. At the bottom it was very warm so we managed to strip layers along the way.

After a hearty buffet lunch and relax, we drove about 3 ½ hours back to our hostel arriving just after 8pm. I had a bus booked to Arequipa in Peru at 7.30am the next morning but after a busy few days of travelling, I decided to postpone by a day and have a chilled day walking the city.
La Paz is big and busy. Known as the city that touches the sky, it is perched at 3,640m above sea level which explained my relatively mild but annoying altitude headache. It is surrounded by suburban covered mountains and is famous for its ‘Witches Market’ which is definitely worth a visit.

There are bottles filled with what I can best describe as ‘special potions’ and dead Llama Foetus. I am sorry but those things hanging are not toys. When a Llama is pregnant, she usually carries twins and one is almost always born stillborn. The locals somehow decided it would be a good idea to preserve them to give as gifts. I am sure there is more to it than that but what reason that may be I am unsure.

It is the wet season here and unlike Northern Australia, when it rains (which is every day) it is quite cold. The walk around town, its steep windy roads and funky markets made it easy to brave the weather. I was amazed by how many women wore traditional clothing – it still is the norm here, unlike many towns where they are on show for tourists. I loved observing them, especially in the mountains in their native environment. It was so natural. I hear Cuzco is much the same.

Once again I met some sweet, very interesting people which made my decision to stay worthwhile.

Chile

The bus trip from Mendoza to Santiago was rough. It was a public holiday so the bus was full. We left at 10.45pm and headed for the Chilean border. While leaving the city we were privileged to witness the city fireworks celebrating ‘the day of the virgin’. I was on the top level and front seat –the perfect unspoilt view. It was so beautiful I just enjoyed it, didn’t even bother to scuffle for my camera. Around 1.30am we were woken to cross the border. It was absolutely freezing outside – I was fully awake in a nano second. The process of leaving Argentina was simple. Entering Chile was also pretty easy and they asked us to fill out forms declaring anything that may not be allowed – including fruit and vegetable. I declared I had an apple in my bag (I was not sure) and thankful I did. They scanned each of our bags independently and found it. One guy found himself in trouble for not declaring food – it was also the same guy who asked me to take through some cigarettes on his behalf. I refused.
By 3.40am we were on the road again and I was graced with one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. The moon was perfectly bright and round. It was a clear night and I was shocked to see the magnificent snow-capped mountains of the Andes. I had forgotten that the border crossing was high in the mountains which would also explain the sub zero temperature. After witnessing the beauty of the Andes in the daylight it really was a treat to see it at night by moon light. I tried a photo through the window – it did not work. I could feel how steep we were by the speed and angle of the bus but it wasn’t until we saw the distant lights on the windy road far down the range in the bottom of the valley that it was so noticeable. It almost took my breath away. A great night for daydreaming.

There was a lot of snoring, bad smells and rough, windy roads, but I did manage to get some sleep. We arrived into Santiago (Chile) just before 7am and the song ‘santa clause is coming to town’ was playing. Wow, only 14 more days until Christmas. That’s only 2 weeks until Lima! :-)
I popped my luggage in storage and having limited time in Santiago, went straight into the city to look around. By chance I met this amazing 18yo lady from Austria, Lauren, who is volunteering for 10 months in the city and surrounding areas. This charity was established by Uni students and run by the youth. Researching their organisation, I like what I see. Very little money is taken for administration as almost all the staff is voluntary. They work with struggling communities to build homes, farms and businesses and have won various awards and grants through their approach in educating the communities to earn the assistance (not through simple hound-outs). The kind of person and organisation I could see myself working with in the future. Lauren was also kind to give me an extensive tour of the city and its history. Good practise for when her mother and brother visit her for Christmas. Fascinating times past.

I learnt while I was there that ALL public Universities, Secondary and Primary school students are on strike in Santiago – that means that no student from entry level primary to last year students at Uni are attending classes – and not since May. I could hardly believe it. They are protesting against having to pay for an education. They believe it should be free. What’s worse is that they (specifically uni students) are paying each month (approx. $600 USD which is very expensive for the average Chilean) for a qualification they are not receiving. And they will not see this money again, not to mention the year wasted waiting.

Everyone in South America – especially Argentinian and Chilean people eat extremely late. Most restaurants don’t open before 8pm or close before 1am. Most people eat around 10pm. On Friday I had been out exploring the city all day and arrived back at the hostel at 8.30 hungry for dinner. The suggestion was made to have a BBQ (Chili style) which sounded fabulous, so at 9.00 we had agreed, decided on the meat and 2 people went shopping. They returned at 11.10pm, fired up the webber and got the meat on around midnight. The smell was torture. We took our first bite at 2.47am and it was magnificent.

The process was slow and long but definitely worth the wait – it was crispy and smoked on the outside and perfectly succulent on the inside. I slept after eating (no surprises there) and everyone else went out dancing. We had such a brilliant night that the owner (Ivan) asked me to stay an extra night as the following night they had a pre-bbq organised with all kinds of meats and side dishes that I would adore. He even offered me the night for free. But I have to move on – must get to Lima before Christmas. I would love to return one day.

I then made my way to San Pedro de Atacama – a place in the middle of the desert in North Chile. Atacama Desert is the driest desert in the world. The journey from Santiago started on the beautiful coast and turned almost moon-like landscape closer to our arrival. It’s amazing that after a 25 hour bus trip I could feel so perfectly relaxed and rested. I decided to spend the extra $23AUD and get a sleeper bus. Amazing. Even though we didn’t get whisky, champagne or coffee on this bus, it was the most comfortable I have experienced.

San Pedro’s is what you’d expect from a desert town – very hot, dry and dusty. During the day the temperatures get very high and then extremely cold at night. I spent the morning wandering the one street of this tiny little town and did the Moon Tour in the afternoon. We set off around 3pm and saw the most amazing barren country side – incredibly moon like. We visited many sights, valleys and canyons. We all closed our eyes and listened to the rocks crackling like ice in a glass of liquid and watched the sunset over the stunning valley with its own little oasis, San Pedro de Atacama.

The following day I decided to walk to a nearby lagoon. It was marked on a map given to tourists when they hire mountain bikes to get around the sites. I decided to walk this 8km odd round trip. I thought it was a little strange about halfway there that I hadn’t’ seen anyone else but decided to keep walking. I had a hat, plenty of water, sunscreen and my phone.

The landscape was naked, exposed to the harsh weather. I could see for miles into the mountains and aside from the deep cracked clay plains, there was the odd tumble weed crossing my path and a group of green trees in the distance. I still saw no one, not even a car. I kept walking.

Almost an hour later, I finally reached the group of trees only to be greeted by a couple of workers to say that the lagoon was bare. It would have been a beautiful oasis but there was no water, not even a puddle. I thanked them for the blatantly obvious information and started walking back.

I was trying to think of the last time it had been that quiet. I couldn’t. Perhaps the 10 day Vipassana retreat in Kenya. It was a time for reflection – where I had been, the work we had accomplished on FreMo’s and where to from here with ’That’s What Friends Are For’. It was time I needed – time I had craved without knowing it. Values, life, love, family, future... It was so peaceful but also quite lonely. I decided to talk to my camera.



I made it back to the hostel with enough time to check my emails, have a shower, bite to eat and then made my way to the bus station for another overnight bus – this one to Arica (Nth Chile) en route to La Paz in Bolivia. There is something I am very much looking forward to doing there – the sole reason for my journey slightly off course…

Mendoza

What a treat this town was!! After deciding to skip the entire south region of Argentina and Chile, I wasn’t sure where to go next so I spoke to other travellers in the hostel. There was a hands down recommendation to go to a wine region close to the Andes Mountain range called Mendoza.


I booked the overnight bus and arrived early in the morning and walked to the hostel. It was a large colonial style house and had the best service I have experienced in South America. I wanted to do 2 things while in Mendoza, trek the Andes and check out a few of the local wineries.

I arrived on a Tuesday morning and had a relaxing day wandering the town and catching up with someone I had made contact with via couch surfing. Wednesday I decided on a brand new tour that included a 12km mountain bike ride, trekking and abseiling in the Andes Mountain range. I could hardly sleep I was so excited.


The drive out there was pretty special. The weather in town was very warm – around 30 deg so it was quite a sight to see the many snow covered capped mountains. On the way we stopped by the lake build only 5 years ago on top of a little town. The government found the site, approached the town in 2006 and said ‘we are building a dam here, you have 15 days to relocate your belongings in a safe area’. That was how the new dam was built to provide water for the town of Mendoza.


The bike ride was first and predominately downhill, it was brilliant to be back on a bike again. We then had an awesome lunch of cold cut meats, cheese, olives and fresh bread with Andes beer then a frozen ice cream dessert. We then sat and talked or slept off lunch before our afternoon activities. I even tried the famous 'herbal' tea that everyone in Argentina and Uruguay are addicted too - not so bad.

There were 12 of us. 7 went white water rafting and 5 of us went trekking and abseiling. Amazing!!! The trek was only a few hours but it was again fantastic to be doing some exercise. The mountains were so magical.


About 2 hours into the walk we stopped at a waterfall and walked up the side of this cliff. Only 3 of us opted to do the abseiling. It was such a rush, I hadn’t done anything to do with rock climbing since training for Nepal back in 2002. I didn’t’ exactly float down gracefully. We made it down in no time at all so the guide asked if we wanted to go again. We raced up!! Second attempt was slightly better. Great fun!


The next day, another couple of ladies and me hired bikes and rode around a couple of the local wineries. The first stop was to an olive farm – we had free tastings of a dozen different tapenade’s, mustards, chutneys and jams. In addition there were the best olives I have ever tasted and gourmet sun dried tomatoes. THEN in the same place we got to choose 2 liquor’s from their extensive selection. They were potent and generous with their pours! Do you think 11.30am is too early?


We then rode around for a while, visited a couple of nice places before joining a wine tasting tour at Trapiche winery. The winery itself is one of the oldest in the region and the 3 wines we tasted were so unbelievably good I wanted to bring the barrels home with me.
I didn’t’ think I was so tipsy until I went to take a video while riding as I had done previously. Ooops – small error in judgment for the grass but no one was hurt.




Tomorrow (Thurs) I make my way to Santiago, the capital of Chile.