Mr B signing off for the last time

Good day to you all

As you may have guessed the time has come to bid you all a fond fairwell as this will be my last mega-mail to you all; but before i do so there is just a little bit more i need to share with you.

So where was I? Oh yes, we arrived in Cusco in preparation for our 3 day trek to Machu Pichhu which we found out later should have been a lot longer. The idea was to spend a few days in Cusco acclimatising to the extreme altitude before heading of on the Inca trail. Cusco is 3400m above sea level so you can imagine the air up there is a little on the thin side to the extent that merely breathing left you breathless. Needless to say after four days we were no nearer to being fully acclimatised to these heights but we embarked on the four-day trek anyway.

The first day was relatively leisurely even though we were accompanied by torrential rain for most of the day. The second day however was an ascension into hell. It was a 4-hour climb from 3200m to 4200m and the experience can best be described as climbing with a large ape on your back. As time went on it would get heavier, and heavier with every step, while slowly strangling you and every so often it would give you a rabbit punch in the ribs just to remind you it was there. The experience was hell on earth and I thought it would never end. Every corner you turned as you got nearer to the top you expected to be the last but instead you were faced with yet another climb even steeper than the one before and your heart would sink and the ape would give ya another punch. After four glorious hours of pleasure we finally reached the 4200m mark where I proceeded to collapse in a heap for 20 minutes while watching my life flash before my eyes...o.k. It wasn’t quite that drastic but it was hard enough and quite a relief to reach the top a relief I cannot even begin to describe.

The next two days were a lot easier and involved more downhill's and flats and even the weather improved. On the fourth day at 7 am we arrived at the ruins and as we saw them appear from above through the clouds the sight we saw made the whole ordeal worth while. We were cold, tired, bruised and in dyer need of a hot shower but at that point none of it mattered as we had achieved our goal and completed the trail, survived it relatively unskathered and in front of us stood the Inca City of Machu Pichhu. Because we arrived so early, the bus loads of tourist who had opted not to take the traditional route to the ruins had not arrived yet and so we had free run of the place for three hours. In this time we walked around trying to imagine what it would have been like to have seen this place when it was first discovered or when it was in it’s true form, full of gold and the Incas themselves.

The ruins were by far the highlight of Peru and once we had experienced them it was time to hit the road again and head off to Bolivia on another 12-hour bus journey. Bolivia, for all it’s negative publicity, is one the most beautiful and untouched countries I have been to so far. It’s capital La Paz is a vibrant and crazy city, which sits in a valley surrounded by mountains some of which are over 6000m high; and it also happens itself to be the highest city in the world at an altitude of 3800m. It was a city where pretty much anything could be acquired from Llama foetus's to black magic potions all that was required was a little imagination. We spent 5 days roaming around the city checking the sites, buying bootleg goods and fighting the hills and the altitude. I have to say the coca leaves did help slightly even though they tasted disgusting. The locals chew it to help open the airwaves, which makes breathing at these altitudes easier allegedly! I just couldn‘t get over the taste, it was like chewing bitter grass.

Some of our time in La Paz was also taking up descending down what’s known as, the world’s most dangerous road, on a mountain bike. The prospect of doing this was daunting enough but the reality was far worse. The road itself was a 2m wide downhill windy dirt road, even narrower at some points, with a drop to one side ranging from 600 to 1000m into thick jungle. To make matters worse we had to contend with on coming traffic usually large trucks and buses and stories from our guide of how said trucks and other bikers had fallen off the road to there deaths at various locations on this three our descent. It was a white-knuckle ride down that hill I can tell ya but what a rush. Thank god for breaks!!!

Anyway on leaving La Paz we set off to a small town called Buena Vista and Ambora National park where we spent three days traipsing through thick jungle and hunting tarantulas and snakes by night with nothing more than a small torch and a crazy guide. I still have no idea what possessed us to do it but the bottle of rum the five of us consumed before hand may have had something to do with it. Fortunately for us we only came across a medium sized tarantula and no snakes that we could see and escaped wiping out in the many rivers and streams we had to cross. From Ambora we hit the neighbouring Santa Cruz the richest city in Bolivia and one of the richest in South America. Most of the city wealth I was told is partly due to the proceeds of its number one agricultural export...nuff said! which is grown in the surrounding countryside in large quantities, most of which then ends up in US for personal consumption after refinement.

From Santa Cruz we climbed aboard the train to Brazil and our final destination and within a few hours we were in the swamp plains of the Pantanal. There we spent a few days polishing up our horse riding skills and again seeking out the local wildlife of anacondas, large cats and cows, lots of cows. It was then off back to the big city, this time Brasilia in central belt. We never stayed long in Oscar Newmeyer’s (he’s the architect who built it) city of the future as we eager to get back to the coast and beach life after being away from it for so long. Besides, trying to get around a city like Brasilia we found was impossible without a car. The city was clearly built with the rich in mind but not tourism; therefore walking around it was only for the fool hearted and the extremely fit. Two days was enough to discover that fact and so we pushed on north to the coast and Salvador.

Salvador “the African heart of Brazil” as it’s known was our next stop and I think this is the point where I realised that I was now in Brazil. This is a city where the drums, Samba and capoeira (Brazilian dance/martial art) rule and the Brazilian way of life is evident everywhere. Every night there was a party in the streets and there was no getting away from it. The drums, music filled bars and clubs ensured that sleeping wasn’t an option, well not until about 4 in the morning that is. The food was good, the nights lively and the people friendly, the only problem was that tourism had taken hold a little too much in the historic centre and the touts were out in force but further afield you got some idea of what it was like being brazillian.

After meeting up with Kiz and Ali however (two friends from home) we decided to move on down to the coast to Brazils more populated beach towns. The first of, which was Arraial d’Ajuda where we spent a few days sunning, surfing and admiring the eye popping views. We eventually, after sweeping the coast, arrived in Rio de Janeiro where we met Claire and Jill. We spent the following week chilling out and appreciating the many wonders of Copacabana and Ipanema beach by day and Rio’s nightspots by night. Not to mention checking out the maracana the world’s largest football stadium as well as sugar loaf and Christ the Redeemer major landmarks of the city. There was just too much to see and do but not the time we were coming to our journeys end. Rio by far was one of the best cities I have been to and as you can imagine I could spend another year telling you about it, but I won’t, as it needs to be experienced, so I will leave it at that. If you want a taster however then check out the website, as we will be updating it in the coming weeks.

Well that, as they say, is that. I have come to the end of the road and the end of the journey. It has been one hell of an amazing year and experience, one that I would recommend to anyone old or young. You’d be amazed at some of the characters we accounted on this trip, people you would never imagine would be doing such a thing but there they were. Anyway all that remains is for me to say it was more than a pleasure meeting all you guys who are still out there living it up and those who are back or still in the grind you know who you are. No doubt fate willing I will see you guys again some day, possibly sooner than you think, so until that time comes take care and keep in touch or else. To all the guys at home (those I haven’t already seen) I look forward to catching up and boring you stupid and will do as soon as I am financially able to, so pray that doesn’t happen too soon.

Again, I will see ya all when I see ya until then keep it real and live it up it’s been one hell of a ride.

Mr B signing off for the last time.

Adios Mi Amigos

Phil

P.S: to the UK crew I have lost everyone’s phone number, don’t ask how, so if you can send me new/old numbers I can start pretending I have friends. By the way my new number is 07725645339 the old one is out of comission and for those of you that CLAIM that I never sent them the website address here it is again: