Floating Islands and stone arches
Five minutes of haggling by the dockside with the captain of the boat brought the price of our day trip to the islands of lake Titicaca down to a more reasonable 25 Soles ($8) per person. Having completed the negotiations the five crew members disappeared onto the quay only to return laden with fruit, vegetables,rice and an assortment of freeriding islanders toting their various handicafts. As
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The Andean Orient Express
To our right a small flock of sheep are grazing on the scrubby grass against the backdrop of a wall daubed with advertising for a local beer. To our left a pair of dogs are chasing each other in circles around lean-tos, draped with blue tarpaulins. As we roll through the industrial town of Juliaca, en route to our final destination of Puno, the leaden skies threaten to break again. Over he last
Machu Picchu...I presume!
Our hopes for a clear morning for our final canter into Machu Picchu were dashed as the persistent low level rain continued. After a swift breakfast we were corralled into groups to await the opening of the day 4 checkpoint. As the trail opened at 5.30am the groups set off on their forced march to the Sun Gate, our first view point for Machu Picchu. An hour and a half of speed walking got us
Dropping into the cloudforest
After the heavy rains of yesterday we woke with the forlorn hope of a drier day to come. Day three promised to be the most varied of the trek with high passes, multiple inca remains and a descent into the cloud forest. The heavy rains of yesterday had lessened to a drizzle but still required a full complement of waterproof clothing. The initial climb to the second pass at 4000m was much the same
The ascent of Dead Woman's Pass
We awoke on day two to the amplified sound of light rain on the dome of the tent. The star filled evening had transformed into a dull grey blanket of cloud, delivering a constant stream of precipitation. We donned our waterproofs and devoured a breakfast, before starting the long climb to the pass at 4200m. After an hour of climbing the steep path in the warmth and humidity of the forest, we
First steps on the trail
The persistent pitter patter of the rain on the dome of our tent and the hoods of our jackets was to become the soundtrack to our Incan Odyssey. Over four days we covered 45km, along lush green valleys, up impossibly steep steps, past cascading waterfalls and cloud forest vegetation. Our ultimate destination was the eponymous Machu Picchu, the religious centre of the Incan civilisation.
The Inca heartland
Over the course of 300 years the Inca civilisation made an indelible mark on the culture and landscape of Peru. As we emerged on the crest of the hill above the village of Pisac the tiers of terracing came into view, dropping several hundred metres towards the valley below. Each terrace, perfectly flat and approximately 5 metres wide, was faced with a retaining wall made with boulders the size of
A little culture and an early nght
After a light breakfast we made our way across town to the Convento de San Fransisco, a Franciscan monastery dating back to the early 17th century and surviving pretty much in tact. The three things that stand out in this beautiful building are: the original c.17th Sevillian tile work that surrounds the cloisters (decorated in shades of yellow and blue and in a geometric style similar to that in
Transitions
As much as we were looking forward to exploring a new country, the prospect of a 24 hour bus ride is never really appealing. The Ormeño ‘Royal Class’ bus was truly luxurious in comparison to the other buses we have had the pleasure of using in Ecuador. A double decker bus with waiter service sounds luxurious, but when the leather is so cracked that it looks like crazy paving and lunch consists of
Cobbled streets and tiled roofs
Relatively free from the constraints of Quito and Guayaquil, Cuenca has all the colonial charm without the pollution, barrio slums and frenetic pace of commercial development. As you walk the cobbled streets of the city the first thing that strikes you is the beauty of the buildings. Colour washed walls with architectural mouldings and small balconies overlook the streets. The red clay tiles of
Reflections on Darwin's Islands
As the bowsprit rises and falls the ocean is parted as we make our way back across the open ocean towards Baltra, our final destination. Our week aboard the Beagle has exceeded my expectations in every way. I was expecting to see wildlife and to be able to enjoy the sunshine on deck but the experience has run deeper than that. The Galapagos is a truly special place, unique in its flora and fauna
The price of conservation
Our day on Santa Cruz brought home the inherent tension that exists in the Galapagos between the needs of a human population and the need to protect the fragile endemic ecosystem. Human habitation has fundamentally changed the ecosystems of the inhabited islands of Santa Cruz, San Cristobal and Floreana. Human habitation and the desire to domesticate livestock and cultivate introduced species has
Under sail to Espanola
As the stern of the Beagle swung around the bloated sails spilled their load, flapping lazily in the warm breeze. The schooner looked majestic under full sail in the late afternoon sunlight but barely sustained a knot and and half without motor assistance. The heavy steel hull and utilitarian rigging was made for durability, not speed. It was noticeable how much smoother the crossing was under
Iguanas and seabirds
As I stand atop the cliffs of South Plaza Island the Shearwaters are darting in packs along the foaming waves, shifting direction in unison. The red-beaked tropic bird soar past on the updraft from the cliff their extraordinarily elongated tail feathers, like birds of paradise, trailing behind them. Flashes of black and red juxtapose against the purest white of their underbelly as the tuck their
Aboard the Beagle
Against the backdrop of a starlit sky I can see the silhouette of a magnificent frigate bird gliding along in the rigging of the Beagle. The shearwaters are darting playfully left and right just above the surface of the sea. The gentle lilt of the boat is accompanied by the soft hum of the engine as we make our way from our first anchorage on the Leeward shore of North Seymour to our overnight