Beginnings of Bolivia

Writing this as head into Bolivia from Peru...once again with lots to catch up on.  I think these entries are going to end up being a little blurred, and with the odd hole here and there...but hopefully I should  be able to cover most areas off!

Longing for more...

So, I leave Bolivia with, like many others, a lust for more.  Despite spending a month here and having visited a plethora of varied locations, I definitely feel I could come back here for more:  Rurrenabaque, the jump off point for Amazonian explorations; the easten districts encompassing the richest areas of the company and the laid back dwellings near Saimapata are all places that will demand another visit some day.  One place, in particular, captured my imagination over a thai lunch in La Paz.  It was here we met an Amerircan/German/Italian guy who owned an Organic Farm near to Samaipata called Ginger's Paradise. At the risk of sounding all 'good life', the promise of organic food, lessons is jewellery making, helping in tofu production and digging in on the farm all compounded to make this sound an attractive proposition.  However, given the 20 hour or so travel time from La Paz and our ever impending flight to the States, Ginger's looks like it'll have to wait till next time.

So, what did we do? 

Enough of what we didn't do and on to what we did!  Perhaps it's best to start with an quick conclusion or sum up, if you will. I have come out of this country with a deeper understanding of Bolivian folklore and history, an appreciation of the cultural and political signifiance of the much revered coca leaf, a slightly improved level of Spanish expertise (after some lessons in La Paz) and a brand spanking new addition to my right foot in the form of small star tattoo.  Whilst in this country, I have pondered why there are so many pharmacies, why every shop on any particular road sells exactly the same range of products (surely any business acumen would suggest that a little distinction could only be a good thing?) and why there is so much emphasis (particularly with regards the naming of streets) on dates throughout history.  While the first two points still leave me baffled, the latter is perhaps a more serious one, insofar as highlighting the rocky history of the nation and how significant these milestones dates are for her development (Bolivia is apparently a women by the way).  Bolivia, in particularly, seems to have had a rough time of it over the past centuries, first struggling for independence only to have a sizeable portion of its land taken away by the neighbouring countries of Brazil, Chile and Paraguay.  The losses suffered by the Bolivians included, most significantly, their coastline - something that still ruffles their feathers to this day.    

Really.. what did he do..

Iquique - Sucre

Managed to go off on a tangent again...I do apologise!

The final destination before Bolivia was the unashamedly tacky but super fun beach bum centre of Iquique in northern Chile. Here we relaxed on the beach, partied hard and... that was about it...loads of fun though, if not completely devoid of culture.  Before that we visited San Pedro de Atacama, which was the place for geyser discovery, salt water floating and 2 for 1 pisco sours. We had gone to SPDA (the driest desert in the world) primarily to partake in a 'star tours' session, where we would be taught all about the night sky by a french astronomer. Unfortunately, however, there were too many clouds for the duration of our stay so we were unable to attend - something we were very sad about :(.  We managed to console ourselves with a few cocktails, though, so all was dandy! 

After Iquique, our newly formed gang of 5 (Canadian Chelsea, American Paige, Ozzy Lloyd and Ash and I....latterly known as Gash and The Colonies) trundled across the border to the city of Oruro in Bolivia. The crossing turned out to eventful to say the least.   Firstly, whilst waiting at the bus station, Paige's laptop mysteriously disappeared.  The fact that it had presumably been stolen right from under our noses without us noticing left us all a little unsettled. The second event, the witnessing of the aftermath of a car crash, was even more macabre and we were all a little shaken by seeing two dead bodies on the edge of the road.  The van, that had been transporting what looked like a family, had toppled off the windy road into a cliff face with the surviving members now left waiving for help to passers by.  Another disturbing element to the tale was that no-one seemed to stop, despite the constant gesturing of a mobile phone made one of the men in the group.

Luckily the rest of the journey went a little more smoothly (apart from Paige suffering from a bout of travel sickness and Ash getting locked in the toilet on the bus) and we were welcomed by darkness into Oruro later on that night.  Oruro is an old mining town in central west Bolivia that apparently is the most representative of the 'real Bolivia' among all the destinations that a tourist might visit.  It was very different to other places we had visited so far, with an abundance of Cholitas (women dressed in traditional Bolivian dress), markets everywhere and a generally slightly dirtier and shabbier feel to it.  Oruro had been the choice destination for 2 reasons: firstly, it was here that we planned to catch the train down to Tupiza, where we would start our Salar de Uyuni tour and, secondly, to book our accommodation for the fast approaching carnival. As the home of South America's 2nd most famous carnival destination (after Rio), accommodation in Oruro books up quickly over the festive period (as well as being VERY dear), so we made sure we were all set with the reservations before we headed down south.

The 12 hour or so train journey down to Tupiza was spent celebrating the 27th birthday of Gash and The Colonies member Chelsea.  Pass the parcel, dodgy champagne (read Perry..or maybe Cider), balloons, party games and cake were all part of the order of the day and we wiled away the hours drinking and being merry...like all birthdays should be spent!

We arrived in Tupiza early the next day and spend a couple of days here walking, horse riding and generally enjoying the novel cheapness of Bolivia....as well as laughing at misspellings/ misinterpretations of food items on menus.  Some personal favourites of mine included 'Eggplant to the Iron', 'Pasta to the garlic', 'Mounted Loin' and, of course, the famous 'He/She/ It calls' for Lama (anyone who knows Spanish will get this...for those of you who don't rest assured that this is a very bad and very funny mistake!).

Tupiza was also where we embarked on our 4 day/ 3 night tour of Salar de Uyuni...something that 99.9% of all visitors to Bolivia will take part in...and for good reason.  To write about the beautiful scenery and experiences on this trip would only serve an injustice, so instead I defer to a couple of photographs below:

What with the brilliant scenery and our fabulous guide Santos and cook Fortunada, our trip around these Bolivian highlights turned out to be among the best things we have seen so far...a sentiment that you often hear echoed around South America among the backpacker community.

We finished our trip in Uyuni, a town, like Oruro, that was centred around mining and so a little drab and depressing.  We only had to stay here one night, though, before heading off to the more cosmopolitan and rich city of Sucre. Once the capital of Bolivia, Sucre is now considered the most beautiful city in the country, with white-washed buildings and a buzzing university population.  Lloyd, Ash and I left Chelsea and Paige for a few days to visit this city and I got my man fix spending time with the boys alone.  Ironically, we spent a large proportion of our time in Sucre buying thread and learning how to make friendship bracelets...perhaps I had rubbed off more on the guys than the other way round...

We left Sucre to meet back up with the girls in Oruro again, where we were to done our fancy dress and got involved in Carnival festivities.....

 
Carnival

Dancers in traditional Bolivian dress.

Oruro was to be our location for The Carnival celebrations....a party lasting for 3 days (and beyond).  The 5 of us piled into 2 small hotel rooms and started the party in earnest by becoming ill (well Paige and me at least).  Luckily I had already sourced my fancy dress and so could spend the Friday in bed, preparing for the next 2 days of partying.  By the Saturday I was feeling a lot more chipper and dressing up as a bumble bee only added to the excitement.  

Ash, Chelsea, Paige and Lloyd also dressed up to the nines, including a gold glitter beard, red lipstick and a red wig for Ash..I think everyone (including the scores of Bolivians who stopped to stare) agreed that he looked amazing, in an 'Axyl Rose' on acid kind of way (see pic). 

 

We managed to get seats on an old rickety bench about 3 metres up next to an old flower store and settled down to watch a day of parades through the city.  The procession featured numerous different dance groups from different areas of Bolivia, and representing different elements of Bolivian folklore and history.  One group, for instance, represented the Bolivian culture of growing coco leaves, with the dancers' costumes beautifully embroidered with golden leaves on their backs.  Another group featured dancers wore elaborate white beards, representing the Spanish conquistadores, with other dancers dressed up as African slaves, wearing balls and chains round their ankles.  A bit of research into the history of Bolivia informed me that somewhere between 8 and 10 million African slaves died as a result of poor conditions working the mines in the times - a statistic I found really shocking.
 
Carnival had been a real eye-opener of Bolivian culture and tradition and I am really glad we made the effort to go back to Oruro to experience it. 

The Grape Escape....y mas.... muchos mas

Three countries on and still not managed to update the old blog....same old story!  Why I decided to wait until Bolivia where the internet connection is slower than a snail on valium to continue is beyond me...too busy having fun eh!

So, after The Great Escape, first, comes The Grape Escape (ok, so I stole that phrase from The Lonely Planet), where copious amounts of fine wines were discovered, disgested and deliberated.  The first stop on the grape tour was Mendoza, where we found the most amazing hostel called La Empedrada.  Wine tasting lessons, laundrey and phone calls back home were all part of the freebies offered by this homely hostel.  The nightly free glass of wine and a delectable breakfast of dulce de leche pancakes, pastries and fruit were the icing on the cake. We seemed to cram a lot of activities into our time in Mendoza, whilst still having ample time to relax in the pool and enjoy the vine covered courtyard.  Paragliding, wobbly wine tours (vineyard visits on bikes), olive oil factory visits and an obligatory night out on the town were the orders of the day, helping seal friendships with many of our hostel mates (some of whom we are still travelling with or planning to meet up with soon).  

The girls from Mendoza...

And the boys...

After Mendoza, Ash and I headed north to the Argentinian city of Tucuman.  This was definitely the worse place we have visited to date and we struggled to find enough to keep us entertained partly due to the never ending rain. Luckily the next stop of Tafe de Valle  was more of a success and we spend 2  days in this pretty town in the foothills of the mountains, cycling around idigenous settlements and watching horse ball matches. The next stop was the slightly larger town of Cafayate where we stayed in another great hostel, which, whilst quieter than the Mendoza abode, was a great place to relax with yet more vines bearing delicious grapes ready to eat.  We met our friend Chelsea and Herman here and spend yet another day cycling around vineyards, tasting the regional specialities of  Malbec and Torrentes.  By the end of the day we were getting quite good at commenting on the wine in spanish, as well as formulating our excuses for not buying ( I´m sure backpackers aren´t their favourite type of clientele!).  We were also able to sample the delectable (if not a bit unusual) wine ice cream that I believe is unique to this one shop in Cafayate.  Ash went for Cabernet with a second scoop of orange, whilst I chose Torrentes with grapefruit...yum yum!!  Cafayate was also where my mate obsession began.  For those of you unaware of this Argentinian institution, mate is a drink made of Yerba (kind of like tea) and hot water, the drinking of which is steeped in tradition and ritual.  We participated in a mate class at our hostel and discovered the ´dos´ and ´don´ts´ associated with the mate preparation and consumption process.  Mate is typically shared with friends, with one person elected to serve the drink to the rest of the party.  Whilst at first bitter, the taste improves and you find yourself enjoying the process of sharing a cup with your fellows. (See below)

If all that wasn´t enough, we also managed to fit in a visit to the ´Quebrada de Cafayate´, a national park with spectacular rock formations (apparantly a bit like the grand canyon and zion national park), before heading further north still to the city of Salta. 

In Salta we met up with friends from Mendoza Chelsea, Gilbi and Patricia and decided to rent a car for a road-trip up north. Lots of stories from these eventful couple of days but this will have to wait - bed is calling...it´s getting late and we have an early start for our Salt Flats tour tomorrow. Until next time chicos!

Hasta luego chicos!

The Great Escape

Panic over...since last writing we´ve finally managed to drag ourselves away from Puerto Natales and continue our trip up through Argentina.  Given the state of play in Chile, we didn´t manage to leave the country in the most conventional of ways, but it was definitely more exciting than catching the regular bus over the Frontera!

After a couple more days of waiting at the Red Cross base at the school continually being told that the buses were to be delayed further, Ash and I had just about given up all hope of ever leaving. After engaging in talks with our new friends, we had collectively decided that we would walk the 25k across into Argentina the next day.   As you can imagine the prospect of embarking on this mammouth journey with all our belongings in tow wasn´t too inviting so Ash and I decided to console ourselves by indulging in a slap up meal at ´Afrigonia´, Puerto Natales´ Patagonian/ African fusion restaurant.  As bizarre as the concept sounds, the resulting fare was exquisite and we enjoyed crab mousse, fillet steak with wild mushrooms and ostrich with rhubarb and cheese sauce (better than it sounds) before making our way back to the hostel.

Upon arriving back to the hostel that evening, we were greeted with the excited shrieks of our fellow backpackers urging us to pack up our belongings and be ready to leave in the next five minutes. Apparantly the government had been putting pressure on the protesters, demanding the barricade to be opened for a couple of hours to let some traffic through.  Juan, the hostel owner, had kindly volunteered to risk dissaproval from the strikers and ferry us across the border. By this time is was approaching 11pm and we had to hurry through the blocquade and the border before it was too late..it was all very exciting, not least for the fact that we had finally managed to escape and embark on a new chapter of the journey.  Once passing through the Chilean and Argentina border, we prepared ourselves for the 5k walk to the nearest town in Argentina, Rio Turbios, where we hoped we might be able to find a room for the night. Luckily, just before we were about to set off, I was bundled into a car with my backpack squashed against my face and told that we were getting a lift... thank God!  The next 6 or so  hours was perhaps the most uncomfortable travelling experience I had ever had, as we rushed onto yet another bus that a smart Argentinan had had the foresight to put on (no doubt profitting somewhat from the incident).  To say the bus was cold would be an understatement and I shivered all the way to Calafate, until finally arriving at 5 in the morning, with no hostel to check into and no Argentinian pesos.  The group that we were travelling with (Miguel, Joaquin, Tito and Sarah) and Ash and I managed to find a random hostel to sit in for a few hours, before scrapping enough money together to buy some croissants and hot chocolate. Fortunately, we were then able to find a hostel that let check in at lunchtime and we settled down to a well deserved sleep.

The next four or so days were spent in Calafate, a pretty Ski-resort type town, with an abundance of chocolate shops and a backdrop of beautiful snow-capped mountains.  Most of the people in our log-cabin style hostel had also been in Puerto Natales so we had a great couple of evenings celebrating our successful cross over to Argentina with old friends that we had made in Chil (see pic below).

In Calafate, we also visited the famous Perito Moreno glacier, a piece of ice that is apparanty the size of Buenos Aires. This was also a very chilly experience and you could hardly raise your head to look on the ice for the strong cold winds blowing towards the boat.

We were having so much fun travelling with the 3 spanish musketeers and Sarah that we booked our 30 hour bus ride together to Bariloche to continue the fun. Bariloche is a city nestled in the Argentinian lake district and our hostel was perfectly situated with a panoramic vista of Lake Nahui Huapi, a beautiful body of crystal clear water set against yet another stunning mountainous backdrop (see above).   We spent our time in the lakes visiting the picture perfect towns of El Bolson (where we visited a hippi market, watched live music, drank tasty fresh juices and ate the most amazing cherries my mouth has ever had the pleasure to entertain) and Villa Angostura.  We also rented a car so we could drive round the 7 lakes surrounding the city and spent a day whitewater rafting, which was lots of fun.

Leaving Bariloche also meant saying goodbye to our new friends and heading off by ourselves once again towards Mendoza, the wine region of Argentina, which is where we are at the moment.  Lots of antics to report on from the last couple of days but that'll have to wait for another day. One thing I will say now though is that if I ever see a bottle of vino tinto again it'll be a day too soon!

Stranded

Once again, I´ve been really lazy and am now running about 3 weeks late on my blog so lots to cram in today! It doesn´t help matters that I´ve got an awful hangover and would really be more happy lying down in front of a film with a dose of painkillers and a tub of ice-cream... but hey ho...

After spending the last couple of weeks in Buenos Aires and travelling south through Argentina, our current location is the Patagonian town of Puerto Natales in Chile and our official status is "stranded". The people of the cold south have, quite rightly so, taken exception to a proposed hike in gas prices in the region, deciding to go on strike and block all access in and out of the region in protest. What this means for us is that there is no way of getting out of here.. and we are stuck here for foreseeable future.  Luckily for us, though, the shops in the town have started opening up now so no more rationing of pasta portions for the time being!

Fortunately, too, it seems as though we hit the jackpot with the hostel we chose to be stranded in. The owners and staff have turned out to the most hospitable (and fun) we could have hoped for.  We have been spoiled with asados (BBQs) and all night partying sessions with our fellow stranded travellers...hence the hangover now. It does feel a little bit as though we are Groundhog Day though ...we wake up, bum around, make some food (pasta), bum around, play cards, start partying, dance around a bit, go to bed...not the worst cycle to be caught up in I guess.  

The initial reason for our visit to Puerto Natales was to complete the "W" trek in Chile´s most famous national park "Torres del Paine".  After arriving in the town about a week ago, we stocked up on high energy goodies, rented some camping equipment and headed off enthusiastically to embark on our 3 night, 4 day adventure around park. Not being the most fit individuals on this planet we didn´t quite manage the whole "W" (it was more like a lowercase "v") but still managed to see some gorgeous scenery and enjoy the delights of riverside camping. The towering mountains, turquoise lakes and lush forests were all wonders to behold but the cumbersome and very heavy rucksacks we had to lug around with us detracted somewhat from the experience.  Evenings were mostly spent hobbling around the camp, drinking cheap red wine to numb the pain. We wisely chose to leave the park after 4 days, meaning that we got back into town just in time for the strike to commence. Given the lack of transport in the region, had we not left then we´d still be there now, trying to make our last ten pounds stretch to food and shelter for an indefinite period of time... not much fun!

Before arriving in Puerto Natales, we visited Puerto Madryn in Argentina and the Chilean town of Puntas Arenas, where we saw penguins, dolphins and whales. We were extremely lucky to spot the latter, as apparantly they don´t normally hang around in that area. Even the guide on our boat was so shocked that he shed a tear when he first noticed the spurts of water rising out the sea (this may have just been the wind but I´d prefer to go with my version of the events).

I can´t remember now whether I have written about Buenos Aires yet in this blog but, if not, think it may be a task for another day. My eyes are tiring and the steak sitting in the plastic bag next to my feet is crying out to be cooked.  Hopefully next time I write we´ll have managed to continue on our journey up north and escaped the throes of this political unrest....if not, it´s Chile for the next 5 months...Que bien!

Belated Xmas Musings

It's always hard to drag yourself away from the daily delights of holidaying to sit down at a computer screen for half an hour to document your thoughts.  This, coupled with the invariably long queues to use the computers in the hostel, has meant that this blog is some week and a bit overdue.  In fact, I have written 2 entries in my notebook now that have to be written up...and I am just realising that there is a steady queue forming for using pcs so I may have to abandon this attempt too!

Since my last entry in Paraty, Ash and I have attempted (and succeeded) in completing our 'whistle-stop tour' of Brazil (well at least of one small stretch of the humongous country) before setting our sights on Argentina, where we are currently residing.

After an evening on caiprinhas, card games and a hearty stew courtesy of Justin (see...told you it'd get a mention!!) in Paraty, we embarked on a 20 hour journey to Campo Grande via Sao Paulo. Considering how unprepared we were for this epic journey (no tickets, little to no idea of when the buses actually left) things miraculously fell into place and soon we had arrived at Campo Grande ready to organise our 3 day tour of the Pantanal (the amazon basis where loads of cool wildlife apparently hang out).

We spent a day and night in C.G., which was cool as we got to see a bit of 'real' Brazil - a city that seemed more geared towards normal day-to-day life than tourism.  We were slightly disappointed, however, that we were unable to find one suitable eatery in the whole city; Brazilians seem obsessed with sweet bread and cheese, cake... and not much else.  I put my foot down when Ash suggested Macdonalds and instead suggested a road-side eatery, that turned out to the big mistake on account of the lashings and salt and cheese piled onto my hotdog. I seriously felt as though my mouth had been cured or something after eating - not pleasent!

The morning after we set off on the 4 hour drive to the Pantanal.  We were shown to our 'bedroom' (hammocks hanging in a wooden shack) and introduced to the rest of the group.  More cairprinhas were the order of the day (..when in Rome...) and we wiled away our first evening playing 'Tudo Bem' (a card game adapted in homage to the popular Brazilian saying).

The following day the planned activities started in earnest (breakfast at 5am!!) and were soon trekking through swamp-land and jungle, spotting macaws, howler monkeys, scores of tropical birds and more caiman (alligator types creatures) than you could shake a stick at.  Our guide was a survival expert and showed us loads of cool stuff, like trees whose sap helped relieve the itching from mosquito bites and nuts that could be used as soap.  The Pantanal seemed so much hotter and humid than anywhere else we'd been so far, so much so that the middle section of the day was good for nothing else than swinging on hammocks and sleeping.

The rest of the time in the Pantanel was spent trying to avoid caiman in the camp´s watering hole, fishing for pirannas (i actually managed to catch a fish which was rather exciting!), going on night safaris and more general wildlife spotting

After the Pantanal, we concluded our Brazilian trip with a visit to the spectacular Foz do Igazu (big waterfall to me and you).  Although I´d read how cool and awe-inspiring these falls were, nothing prepared me for how outstanding they really were.  The sheer power of nature you felt while viewing the panorama of falls was incredible and using the wooden walk ways to get up-close amplified this sensation further. It almost felt as though you were on a (really awesome) ride at a theme park with the power of the water and wind smashing into your body from every angle... very exhilaring indeed!

So...with the trip to Foz complete, our time in Brazil had come to an end, something that I felt sad about.  As a country, Brazil had taken me by surprise.  I was astonished about how friendly and willing to help the people were (despite our embarrassingly awful attempts at Portuguese).  I also couldn´t believe the diversity that the country has to offer.. even in the small fraction that we were lucky enough to visit.  No one place was the same and there were so many different landscapes, eco-systems and types of architecture to cater for anyone´s taste.  On the down side, I wouldn´t say I was too enamoured by the food (how much salt and cheese can one girl tolerate?) and I suppose it was quite dear, especially in Rio.  All things considered, though, a brilliant country and a good time had by all!

Greetings from Brazil

Almost a week in the trip now, so thought it was about time to update the old blog.  We’ve just arrived into Paraty, an old colonial town about 4 hours from Rio famed for its cobbled streets and white-wash buildings.  We’ve yet to look round the town as have prioritized the glamorous task of doing the laundry – I can’t believe how much we have managed to amass in just a week – it’ll be all that hiking we’ve been doing in the 30+ degree heat!

So, our trip started off a little further from the ideal due to a cancelled flight from Heathrow to Rio.  The first issue was the ´minor´ (or so we were told) problem with the plane’s hydraulic system – despite being herded onto the plane we were still waiting on-board for a good 3 hours until the problem had been diagnosed and the new part been ordered.  Would have been good to get away on time, but we weren’t too worried at this point – they’d turned on the in-flight entertainment so I happily relaxed into a viewing of ´Made in Dagenham´ and snacked on the freebies they were handing out.  The entertainment was interrupted for an announcement from the pilot, which we all thought would be news of our imminent departure – we should be so lucky!  Instead the call was to ask if there was a doctor of medicine on board; a young child had fallen and hit their head and assistance was needed.  Unfortunately, there mustn’t have been any knight in shining armor on-board, as the next call was to inform the now rather fidgety passengers that an ambulance had been called and we would have to wait for the injured´s luggage to be removed from the craft.  As you can imagine, the mood on board was not great and was only further exacerbated by the lack of a Portuguese speaking crew member on board. It all turned a little embarrassing for BA when a Brazilian passenger had to volunteer to translate over the tannoy.  Just when things couldn’t get any worse, a group of agitated passengers had decided enough was enough and demanded to be let off the aeroplane.  We were told that if this group persisted with their demands that we’d all have to wait for their bags to be taken off and their details taken etc.  The likely outcome of this would be that we wouldn’t be able to depart inside our allotted window, thus meaning the flight would be cancelled. What then ensued was a battle of wills and a debate that wouldn’t seem out of place in an A-Level RE Ethics lesson (greatest good .. and all that).  Despite pleas from the captain and fellow passengers, the splinter group still insisted on leaving, meaning we were off to the Ramada Jarvis for our first night, rather than the far more sunny and exotic climes of Rio de Janeiro.

After this fall at the first hurdle, things started to work out a bit better for us – we were able to cancel our hotel and rearrange our transfer. Our first ´real´ night was spent in Botofogo in Rio in a hostel/hotel.  We grabbed a few beers in the local before setting our heads down for an early start of Sugar Loaf touring and hostel relocation.  The next day, after ´cable-car´ing it up Rio´s most famous (or maybe joint most famous) peak, we moved to Ipanema, a more backpacker friendly part of town fully equipped with its own Louis Vuitton shop and everything.  The next 3 days were spent in the Ipanema Beach House meeting people and seeing the sites.  St Teresa, with its old rickety tram and bohemian atmosphere, was a highlight.  

I spent most of the initial time in Rio being massively paranoid of getting robbed, but, alas, all was fine and I started to relax into it all a lot more when we took a trip to Lapa for a night out.  Lapa is an area of the centre of Rio renowned for its street parties, where musicians improvise to the samba beats and locals and visitors alike dance until the early hours.  Street stalls sell amazing kebabs and strong caiprinias to keep to partiers happy.  We spent the majority of the evening dancing under the arches of the St Teresa tram with new Brazilan friends.  I couldn´t get over how friendly everyone was and we spend the evening having our drinks topped up by and dancing with fellow revelers.  I think we may have taken the party spirit a bit too far by mindlessly sauntering in to one of the bars with our street-bought cocktails and dancing to the band without actually buying a drink – we were soon told where to go!

On Sunday, we left Rio with two new friends, Justin and Emily, to Ihla Grande, an island a couple of hours south.  The island was so absolutely gorgeous and I can see why it’s a popular destination for Cariocas wanting some time away from the city. The Lonely Planet was certainly on the money when it compared the island to those of Thailand, and I did feel as though I was on the Phi Phi of yester-year.  The island also reminded me of the Perenthian Island in Malaysia, with its sweeping white beaches and laid back charm.  We spent 3 nights here in a lovely hostel and completed a couple of walks/ treks as well as having some well-deserved early nights and some cocktails with a crazy group of Chilean guys – there must be something in the water in South America as I´ve never seen a group of men with so much rhythm - they certainly put our dancing to shame!!

So… that brings up to today and Paraty. Ash isn´t feeling too great at the moment (he seems to have been unlucky with reaction to malaria tablets and sun-burn) and so we’ll probably stay here for a couple of days to recuperate before heading up to Campo Grande for a spot of jungle adventure in the Pantanel.

Until next week… Bom dia!

P.s. I´ve just been on my blog to find people have actually ready and left comments – LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

Our first destination

Just working out how to add pictures :)