a mixed bag

I am now writing from the most unusual situation and location of all. I am sitting with a cushion on my lap and laptop, listening to the Today programme in my kitchen. Egypt and all that I saw there is a world away, the rain is hitting the windows and the air is cold.
I have many experiences that I need to expel and to write of before they disappear into some dark corner of my mind. The most frustrating thing that I find with the travelling that I have done this year is that as soon as I return home I easily slip back into the patterns I left and soon my trip is simply a collection of colourful memories.
So where do I begin, well I last wrote to yoiu all of Aswan and the treasures of Philae temple now I turn my attention to the Nubian and the felucca.

KUMUKA the FELUCCA and the TOOTLESS ARAB.

Before two nights on the Nile we took a boat directed by another Mohammed, this one dressed in traditional garb topped off with a baseball cap and a cheeky grin. He took us to a small island in the Nile where he and his family lived. The Nubian people find it hard to own land and so are often found to be living seperate from other Egyptians. We lept off the boat in the gathering darkness and clambered into the back of waiting open trucks. We were driven through the dusty dirt tracks of the small village, only a few orange street lamps illuminated scenes of men sitting in the gloom playing dominos and women wondereing along only able to see from their small slits in the black cloth balancing colourful baskets on their heads. Camels rise out of the darkness lolloping along enthusiastically encouraged by the young boys taking them for a ride. We pulledup outside a blue one storey bulding all the rooms opening onto a courtyard. All the floors in the complex made from yellowy orange sand. We were ushered to the far wall where cushions had been laid out in our honour. We were served with hot glasses of hibiscus tea and fried aubergines. In one of the small and sandy rooms an interview was taking place. The father of the family was inspecting a prospective suitor to his daughter. The boy had been offered by a local family and it was the father's choice as to whether a romance could develop.
We were entertained by the small children who ran around uninhibited by the assembled throng of expectant tourists. A beautiful lady drew henna designs on all the girl's arms as the men played drums and pipes whilst smoking shisha.

The next day we were heading off on to the Nile. We loaded on our bulging bags, packed with water and snacks as we were not able to buy any more supplies for a few days.
The sails were hoisted on our two boats and the cooling boxes were loaded with huge blocks of ice that the boys bashed with hammers breaking into more mangeable chunks. The two boats both called 'Captin Hash' and 'Roiling Stones' started off from the shore and tacked their way down river towards Luxor. The wind was not strong enough to make our progress particularly speedy which meant there was plenty of time to look at the passing scenery, the plants the people bathing in the water and the small boats being punted along.
We stopped in the late afternoon and some of us jumped straight in to the gloriously cool water and then ran up the sand dune my feet burning from the hot sands before diving back in to relieve the symptons.
The days spent on the water were glorious we stopped regularly for swimming as on board ship it was stiffling. The decks simply open with a tarporline strung up to provide shade and cushions to sleep on. The second night we stopped at the side of a marshy island with tethered cows grazing and the pink sunset reflected in the pools of water. The scene became less romantic when one of the members of our trip got horribly drunk, very easy to do in such heat, and wondered off to find somewhere to sleep. A search party was launched when her absence was noted. I set off with a head torch fell in a cow pat and was nearly attatcked by a randy bullock. But was all was fine and she was found sleeping soundly under a hedge.

On our last morning on the feluccas we moored for breakfast of hard boiled eggs and the flat bread, which I dont think I will ever be able to eat again with any pleasure after eating it for three meals a day for a month. People disembarked to find a suitable place to relieve themselves in the banana plantation on the shore and were met by a man intent on trying to sell them his bananas. So with crossed legs we departed by mini bus for the temples. I must admit after little sleep no showers and need of a more solid meal I was not at my most receptive on these temple visits. And instead my concentration was given to the icecream selection and drinking as much water as I could get inside me.

We arrived back in Luxor in the afternoon at the same camp. I swam in the pool and changed my clothes which was an absolute joy. At 9pm we were on a train heading for Cairo. The train journey began with excitement a large group of friends off on a journey this soon changed as we all got so cold, the door was broken and kept flapping open and kept us all awake. The train pulled in to Cairo at 10am the next day four hours late for no explicable reason apart from this is Egypt.
We were ushed into the Cairo museum yawning and stretching. All of the memories of bumping along on the railway lines soon disappeared as we were gawped at the antiquities. The lights shining off the glod of the death masks the smoothness of the marble.
In the afternoon three of us went off to explore Islamic Cairo. We had a fantastic but exhausting day walking the streets, eating brain sandwiches from the street vendors and climbing the minaret of a beautiful mosque. We stood in contemplation looking acorss the rooves of Cairo and the minarets of the mosques and the Citadel.
That was my last night before an early morning and a long journey home with 4 airports and 1 bus station.
And here I am willing the sun to shine and trying to get back into the old routine.

I hope that you are all well and I will catchup soon and exchange stories.

Love to all

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kings queens nad grandad

I am writing from a place charmingly called interent coffee in Aswan Egypt. It is located on the busy Nile street and I can hear the tooting of the old perguet taxis and the roaring engines of the converted trucks which serve as brightly decorated buses, their multi coloured mud flaps adding colour to the street scene.
Since my last entry time has flown by. I spent the day with the friendly police man Said, he took Bryony and I too lunch dressed in his crisp white uniform buttons gliztening in the sun, I then met him for tea in the afternoon and we sat on golden thrones in a small shop sipping Hibiscus tea. These chance meetings often end up being the most enjoyable.
After another night in Hurgahda the awful tourist town it was off in the afternoon of the following day in convoy bound for Luxor.
An early start after this long journey for a sunrise hot air balloon trip over the valley of the kings.
It was beautiful I have never experienced the sensation of calmy floating. We watched the sun rise over the Nile the valley of the kings become pink with early morning light and the farmers begin to till the fields.
After a smooth landing and a dance with the local children who came running or riding on donkeys we set off to the valley itself. It was rather a disappointing experience. The tombs were crowded and we shuffled round as if on a conveyour belt unable to properly pay repsect to the amazing paintings and carvings. By 11am it was blisteringly hot. we headed to watch some Alabaster being shaped into goblets and vases. I fell in love with a statue of Queen Neffitii, however I decided that due to price and space I had to leave her behind. After an afternoon at the temple of Hatshuptu we headed back into Luxor. I went to use the internet cafe but unfortunately there was another power cut and the telephone line was down so instead I popped into the next door shop to browse. Whom should I see high on a shelf but my Queen in deep blue. Two old men sat at a desk watching my growing enthusiasm. I then spent the afternoon with them drinking tea and talking and ofcourse being pursuaded that I could not live without Neffattii. So now it is with heavy rucksac I will return home leaving clothes at every port to ease the load.
From Luxor it was onto Aswan by train. An early morning up to make breakfast for everyone and to the station to catch the 7am train leaving the truck behind. We waited and waited the train finally arrived at 9.45am! I dont think I will complain about British rail again. We arrived in Aswan and then we were off with our Egyptian Grandad. A gorgeous old man, a pure charmer, wearing white shirt trousers gloffing cap and slippers. He walked gracefully swinnging his walking stick. Everyone fell in love with him at first sight. He took us to Temple of Phillae. A beautiful temple on an island reached by small motor boat. We stayed there for a long time watching the shadows lengthen and the heat drain from the air.
And now here I am thinking it is late afternoon as I have been up since 3 am. We had to set off early to Abu Simbel. The drive taking 3 hours. We all slept on the way there waking to see the water and in the distance Sudan and the Sahara desert. The temple was stunning and I really mean that, I walked in awed silence hushed by the skill and the splendour and the sheer scale of the carvings. Walking between two statues of Rameses II 2o metres high into a cool dark room, the ceiling supported by beautiful statues.
What a place. So we explored and then headed back arriving back in Aswan at lunch time.

Tomorrow we take to the Nile for a few days cruising on a traditional felucca to Luxor. I cannot believe I am heading home so soon! I will see you all anon

Love to all

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karnak convoys and ministry of sound

A few days of contrast. I write to you from Spider Net "Enternet cafe". There have been some great lost in translation signs on this trip I really should have been keeping a record of them, yesterday I ate at a resturant serving Stiffed chicken and mashrums. One of the best was a sign welcome to the kingdome of Jordan.

In Luxor before departing for Hurgada we spent the morning at the two temples, of Karnak and of Luxor. Beautiful structures of towering pillars complete with original colours and pigments from 3000 years ago. The heat was intense and even at 9am we were all suffering. We will return to Luxor in a few days to explore the valley of the kings. We ate lunch in a local place having plates of koshery (lentils and tomatoes) before departing in a convoy for hurgada. For about 10 years since some tourists were murdered making sucha a journey the Egyptian government had made it compulsory for all tourists to travel in a convoy. So we trucked along being over taken by all the air conditioned buses packed full of beautifully tanned individuals sitting in their reclining seats sipping drinks secure in the knowledge that they had a toilet on board. We were not in the least bit jealous in our 40 year old ex army truck with such hard suspension, no air condition and the orrder that there would be no toilet stops for 4 hours. It was a long hot 6 hour drive. The scenery changing from lush valley people bathing on the river with the aligators palm trees providing shelter as old men squatted drinking tea. Local militia on every bridge bearing pump action rifles and machine guns waved to us with toothless grins as we bounced past.

And then we arrived in Hurgada, an awful shrine to the breeze block and concrete. This is the side to Egypt that has beenm disappointing the mass tourism, the peroxide blondes hobbling on in high heels and push up bras between bars serving full english breakfasts and beer fro m home. Bryony and I xchanged looks of mutual understanding and had to just embrace the tackiness. Last night in honour of our driver's birthday it was traditional dress night. We were all made to wear traditional Arabic dress I opted for the male outfit and resembeled an old man in pjamamas. We ate club sandwiches and drank pina coladas. After being made to down a litre of beer to the shouts of chug chug Myk the birthday boy was carried home. I headed to a local club, the ministry of sound has found its way here adapting with the addition of sand and palm trees. We danced away until 4am and then headed back home. And here I am in an internet cafe that was closed but after a cup of tea with a local police man Salid whom I met last night it has been opened in our honour.

i will be glad to be leaving this place tomorrow agian in a convoy back to Luxor. To be able to be some where with heritage.

I love you all

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what's white black and hot all over?

The answer is camping in the black and the white desert in Egypt in the hight of summer!
I have just arrived in Luxor and have been in a swimming pool!! It was fantastic after three days of no showers and seemingly endless hours of hot sun with no shade to dive into cool clear water.

Since my last blogg I have developed more affection for egypt. After leaving Dahab at 8.30pm we drove through the night in the heat until about 11.30pm. We pulled up in an empty car park where we were unloaded and with head torches illuminating the rocky path started a less than enthusiastic accent of mount sinai. Camels loomed out of the darkness their white robed Bedouin owners muttering camel camel to the top. We puffed our way up, the sky a beautiful sight. We stopped at the small stone tea stops along the way, our red flushed faces cast with shadows from the oil lamps. We ate chocolate bars and drank coke. At 2.30pm we reached the top disorientated and ready for sleep. We snuggled down on some rocks being bitten by fleas in the blankets we had hired. I slept soundly until 5.30pm when I awoke and looked around. We were surrounded by hundreds of people, there was gossple singing and chanting and the sky was turning blue. We were treated to a beautiful sun rise the mountains around us turining a rosey pink. We decended as soon as the sun had risen to beat the assembled masses. At the bottom we cooked up a breakfast and started the long drive to Cairo.

We arrived in the early evening and were all too tired to get up to much and instead enjoyed the air conditioning. It was an early start once we had been able to cross the busy insane roads of the capital, and off into the desert. We just stopped along the way for extra water and supplies oh and ofcourse we spent the morning at the pyramids. The reason I nearly forgot to add that in as I was very under whelmed and have found much more pleasure and delight in the uncrowded sights that Syria had to offer.

We camped that night in the black desert called thus because the ground is littered with black volcanic stones. We lit a fire and sat and chatted watching the shooting stars above head. The next day it was another long day on the truck this seems to be the pattern for egypt. We drove to the white desert reaching it by lunch time. It was an odd landscape, beautiful white towers of soft snadstone carved and shaped by the weather. I sat under the truck the heat was intense to hot to move until about 6pm so I sat my back against the back mudguards abnd my head fitting perfectly under the spare tyre. In the evening we barbequed and admired the rocks as they became coloured by the setting sun.

In the morining we drove a short distance to an oasis town where we met an artist inspired by the desert. His house is a shrine to the sand and to the rocks, all the walls carved with the scenes of bedouin life. It was a strain to tear ourselves away from the relaxing and cool court yard and to be loaded back into the truck.

We drove all afternoon and arrived in another oasis ton where we were shown on to Mohammed's roof. We explored the ancient mud village nearby before all being allowed a 5 minute shower before supper. Mohammed presented us with dishes of beautiful food which we all tucked into heartly. Then it was a game of dominos and bed as we set off at 4.30am.

And now here I am after a drive from 4.30am through until 2.30pm! A long day.
I think I have pretty much filled you in. I am sorry that this reads rather like a list! Tomorrow we are off to explore Luxor and then on to the coast to enjoy two days of relaxation...bliss! I have become known as one of the trucking girls as I have been riding up front my main job to pass drinks to the driver mike and to keep him hydrated with the water spray as the temperature in the cab reaches into the mid 40s!

Well I must go we are out to dinner and then I think I will hit the sack...our room has air con!

p.s. I didnt explain Al capone reference. Whilst in Dahab we fequented a resturant and bar that served gorgeous sea food and fruit juices called Al capone's.

So there you go I love and miss you all muchly!

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sea salt and Al capone

Hello from Dahab,
I am now in Egypt. We arrived a few days ago after a long long journey. From Petra we drove to town from where we sat and watched the sun set over the sea and the mountains. We could see Saudi Arabia and Israel at the same time quite magical./ This drive came after a morning spent in the back of clapped out old trucks buzzing around the wadi Rum desert. Being awe struck by the rock formations and the colours. By 11am it was deathly hot and we headed to the truck.
After watching the sun set we slept under the stars in an open bedouin tent.

I am sorry this entry is particularly jumpy and organised. I blame the heat and the water in my ears. I have been snorkelling all morning in the red sea. We jumped in the back of an old jeep and headed along a dusty and dirty track flanked by camels and the amazing blue of the clear water. We sat in the cool of bedouin cafe drinking hot sweet tea before putting on our flippers and masks and heading into the deep. The colours were beautiful, brightly coloured fish intricate patterns and sharfts of light piercing the depths. We sat salty and tired eating thin pizza and drinking fresh lemon juice.

Yesterday was a free day in Dahab, we needed this time to relax and reccuporate after a long crossing from JOrdan lots of time spent in the baking heat. We arrived in Dahab at 8pm. We ate lobster and prawns by the sea and then a select group of us with no sense went out dancing. We ended up in a club where they had a beach volley ball pitch in the centre so we challenged the bar staff to a game, needless to say we were beaten. The free day was spent relaxing, drinking juice overlooking the sea and haggling on the p[rice of souvenirs. Four of us more adventurous girls hired quad bikes in the afternoon and drove off to an oasis across the sand. We returned after two hours covered in dust but happy.

I dont think there is much more I can say, we are really in a touristy area so I am waiting to see a different less bright and western side of Egypt.

I love you all but must rest now as in a few hours we are driving to mount sinai and climbing it at 10 pm. We should reach the summit at about midnight and then watch the sun rise.

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perfect petra

I am sitting ina very chic hotel feeling out of place in my dusty clothes. I have come across the road from our modest hostel with crooked and wonky stairs to this air conditioned delight.
What a day...let me think when did I last update you?
Well after Amman we drove to the dead sea. We had the place to ourselves and bobbed about in the warm water. A strange experience before covering ourselves in mud and feeling very smooth. We drove up through the mountains looking down at the crystal blue water. The salt on the shore line creating the illusion of a wave frozen whilst breaking.
We arrived after a long day in wadi mussa. We sat in the evening outside the hotel, a stream runs past the front steps from the spring so we chilled our wine as ladies washed their clothes.
Today was up early and off to Petra just a few miles down the road but a different world. We arrived early so as to take advantage of the relative coolness. What a place! The colours of the rock, the skill of the carving the expanse, the canyons.Nature and man working in harmony to create unfaulting beauty. We walked for hours and hours wondering through the ancient world so perfectly preserved. We climbed the high hill to the monestry where we sat under the shade of hessian sacks on beduion seats and watched the donkeys and admired the stone. It was so hot in the afternoon that we retreated and sat in a beudoin tent where we were invited to share gorgeous sage tea. And now here I am tired dusty but inspired and excited about the prospect of Wadi rum desert tomorrow.

I love you all but must now leave as my stomach tells me it is time to eat!

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smoke, heat, dirty feet and camel heads

Hello everyone, longtime no communicate. I am sorry for my lack of insites into the world of the middle east. The problem has been a constant movement and a lack of internet. the last time I was "online" was in a small town in Syria where as soon as I signed in we had a power cut and all connection to the outside world was lost.
So now here i am a world away from the grey london that I last spoke of and instead sitting in a smokey internet cafe with the sound of busy streets below and wailing arabic music. What a week it has been! Bry and I arrived after a stressful Heathrow experience and a cramped flight. we were hot and tired as we que qued up for our visas.
We met up with the rest of our travelling friends on the Saturday evening, strange to think I have only known these people for a week, we are all so close having to squat at the side of the road to relieve oneself after 3 litres of water and 5 hours in the truck is a leveling experience!
It has been amazing. We started in Amman in Jordan from where on the Sunday morning we drove to Jerash a beautiful Roman city near Amman. We explored before the heat of the day really set in and then "trucked" off to the Jordan Syrian border, and drove all the way to Damascus. The border crossing went smoothly apart from some rather enthusiastic waving of a machine gun by the border guard. Once through the barriers and into Syria we were greeted by waves from all directions. Children ran out from their houses and the old men sitting in the shade respectfully acknowledged our passing.
Syria well what can I say what a wonderful time we had, what friendly people and what sights to be seen. Every building is graced with a huge portrait of the President politics and religion are visible to a degree that I have never before experienced.
We started in Damascus, camping over night on a patch of green and cultivated grass behind a garage on a main and busy road into the centre of the city. We had a day to explore the large and wondering souqs, to inhale to spices to see the gold twinkling in the spots of sunlight finding their way through holes in the roof. Sacks of saffron, rose buds, soaps, animal carcuses and camel heads sit side by side as men sit at sewing machines or weld sending sparks into the narrow streets. The buildings crowd together over hanging and providing ample shade and protectin from the sun. We sat with some old toothless men who invited us to tea outside their homes sitting in the shade sipping hot sweet liquid.
From Damascus we trucked east to Palmayra a desert oasis of the Roman period. the springs are all but dry but the town remains. We rode camels at sunrise amongst the beautifully carved collumns that rose majestically from the sand monuments to a noble civilization, tinged pink by the rising orb. Sleeping under the stars pleased to have relief from the heat which rose into the mid forties.
We waved goodbye to Palmayra and headed to the famous castle of Crac des Chevaliers where we explored the secret passage ways and then headed to our hotel which stood on the opposite side of the valley. We sat on the balcony pleased to feel as though we were back in civilization with western toilets and a shower which was strong enough to wash under.
From Crac we headed to Aleppo my favorite port of call in Syria. We toured to souqs, ten kilometres long. We squeezed along side the donkies, and were temped by the colourful carpets. we stood atop the citadel and were transfixed by the city. In the early evening I stood on the hostel's balcony and listened as all the city's mosques began their mournful and wailing call to prayer. A beautiful resonant echo across the roof tops bouncing from minaret to minaret.
Then a long 8 hour drive to Bosra. A strange town with a sad feeling and presence. people squatting in the Roman and Byzantine buildings sit Roman collumn tops, using them as garden chairs. We camped in a resturant alongside the 15000 capacity roman ampitheatre.

And now here we are back in the capital of Jordan with another boarder crossing done and another stamp in my passport. I am looking forward to Jordan to the dead sea to petra to Wadi Rum, but i am unsure as to when I will next be able to write. So all that is left to say os goodbye and I love you all so much!

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welcome to london land of extortion!

dear all I write to you from London. It has been a busy week. I finished my time in Berlin happily with a trip to Peacock island with aylin and her mother, some cocktails at a beach bar on top of a department store and blowing some bubbles in the streets of east berlin. After arriving at Gatwick i stayed in a small capsule hotel, it was brilliant everything could be reached from sitting on my bed. I then hopped on a train early in the morning and headed for Norfolk where I passed several happy and busy days. I caught up with my mum, my grandmother and my friends. Now I am in London staying with my kind and hospitable cousin Charlotte. My arrival to the UK has been greated with rain and cold and today I have bought myself a wooly hat to fight against the elements as I have no long trousers or shoes!
London is so expensive in comparison with Berlin this has become apparent in two ways. I am currently searching for a flat so that I can move here to begin my studies at the end of September. I will be paying as much per week as Aylin is paying for her beautiful flat per month. Also I treated myself to a hair cut today I do not want to admit to how much it cost lets just say no lunch for me today and no using the tube.

I am sorry re reading this it is markedly uninteresting and uninspiring I blame this on the fact I miss Berlin, it is raining and i am hungry. so i will sign off and hope that my next blog will be of more interest.

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p.s. am off to Jordan tomorrow!

Orpheus, the underworld and wallace and gromit

I cannot believe that my time here is nearly over. I have had a wonderful time exploring different parts of this multi faceted city, avoiding the tourist haunts as much as possible.
Since my last entry time has passed at a seemingly vastly increased rate. Monday was spent mainly in bed and then at the local park where as soon as we sat down on our orange velvet balnket the heavens opened and we had to seek shelter under some trees as we played with the playdou that we had bought. The reason Monday was spent sleeping was to an evening of continuous dancing on the reggae ship to which we are returning this evening. After a long day on Sunday the last thing I wanted to do was to go out dancing. So we set off from the flat I felt deflated and wore what looked like a ensemble of my favourite pjamams. We boarded the boat at about middnight and then left at 5am. We danced to the incesently happy music in the green, red and yellow lights under the haze of smoke.
Tuesday was spent in the underworlds! We took a tour of the air raid shelters under the city. The tour guide's skin was pale and almost translucent he took joy in turning off the lights and speaking in empassioned tones. It was interesting for me to reconsider my thoughts on the war. Here was a place where people had died, people had cowered in the darkness listening to the explosions over head and unable to move or breathe deeply. They were just as innocent as those who across the sea cowered in the underground as bombs rained down on their city.
In the evening we went to a tiny theatre, the English theatre of Berlin, where we saw Orpheous decending by Tennesse Williams. It was a great production that kept us discussing into the night over home made hot chocolate.
Last night we once again visited B flat jazz club where we shared cocktails and wrote in the glow of a candle. We watched two young saxophonists smiling and happy take to the stage and wow us with their passion and seemingly inate ability.
Sorry to end so abrutbly but I must be off.

I send you all huge amounts of love

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the white elephant and the ghost!

I am sitting on Aylin's small balcony surrounded by tomato plants sipping milky tea. We have spent the day at several of Berlin's large flea markets trying on silly hats and glasses and wondering who on earth buys used corks and old forks?! I so enjoy the colour and the vibrancy of this city. We sat for a while in a large park watching fire eaters, poi dancers and families all soaking up the atmosphere and all sharing a collective puff on the incence and weed filled air.

These last few days have been busy and not afforded much time for needed contemplation and a collecting of thoughts. We have spent many happy hours in the kitchen baking and ornately decorating dozens of cookies. Too many that we are now unsure of what to do with. We have been to art galleries, to the the club that typifies the old east and danced the night away by the light of the largest disco ball I have ever seen. I danced the twist so enthusiastically that my trousers split to a disgraceful degree that I was not fully aware until we left the club after dawn and the early morning light showed my trousers and dignity in tatters! Our night time activities have been long and interesting Berlin maintaining its intriguing character by the light of the moon and the neon strip. We went to a beautiful old theatre and caberet complex last night to see an Icelandic band play. We jumped with abandon in the front row in the sweltering heat.
Tonight we are off to a reggae party on a river boat I expect to see some colourful characters to further cement my love for this city.

Yesterday whilst shopping in the local supermarket a colourful flyer, there are flyers and stickers everywhere, caught my eye. it was for a small art collective by the name of white elephant. They too share an interest in abadoned and decaying buildings and placing contemporary art in temporary space. We decided to spend the afternoon there so headed east to a beautiful large brick ware house. Its windows all broken and birds nesting inside. Outside a man with dreadlocks sat at a plastic picnic bench under the shade of a potted palm tree and waved us inside. We were greated by a pot holed and uneven floor a small temporary bar selling plastic cups of beer and a wonderful view. The building over looks one of the lakes in the city its old rusty doors wide open and a small boat with a sign pointing to it signalling that this was the official fire escape in case of emergency! We explored the decaying structure graced with installations and interactive displays were we left our mark.
It was whilst making our mark that a man looking out of place approached us asking what to do here as we wrote small thoughts in a notepad. His name is Caspar an engineer. His reason for visiting the exhibition was his love of the building which he informed us is to be converted into apartments. It turns out that fate dealt me a strange hand by introducing me to this engineer uncomfortable with artistic endeavour, he too is soon to depart Berlin for the middle east. He is off a few days before me to learn Arabic in Syria. So we have organised to meet in Damascus. In the world you are never really alone.

Now I hope that you are all well and enjoying what you are up to

love to all my dears

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B flat and the shoe cupboard

It is 11.23 am and I am sitting having just finished a true German breakfast of heavy bread and ham. I am in east Berlin with the sound of cars bumping along the cobbled streets and trams in the distance.
This is my third visit to Berlin and I feel so at home here it is a city with such spirit and colour. All avaliable surfaces are covered with stickers or writing a form of communication to which all can subscribe.
My few days here have been frenetic with continued activity, setting off from Reading at 5.30am and arriving at midday in Berlin. After a lunch the afternoon was spent exploring a district of the city in the east, looking at the old GDR clothes and furniture, sitting on sofas in the street, eating a pizza whilst on the move in a tram and trying to choose earrings from the huge and colourful selection and ofcourse playing board games. we stumbled across a cafe where you buy a drink and then settle down for the day to play as many board games or puzzles as you wish. A man with big glasses and dark wirery hair selected games for us to play from his personal collection that were lovingly stacked from floor to ceiling. We were bothslightly lagging the competitive gene so I believe the game progressed at rather a slow pace.

Last night after a day moving slowly along the river on a boat tour that showed us the wealth of variation in the city from the husstle and bustle of the parliamentary area to the green expanses of the parks, we returned to Aylin's flat and cooked alot of pasta. After filling our bellies we were out again to a jazz bar to watch their 'jammin'. We sat in the hot room, its huge floor to ceiling windows showing us the people and the trams passing by. We sipped cocktails in the red lit room and were treated to wonderful lively jazz which drew a huge crowd and raised the temperature even higher.

We met some characters whilst watching the performance, Josh an American living in Berlin working as a translator, his friend Rudi a musician living in Berlin originally from Israel. We all sat communicating through the international language of the beat and the enthusiasm shown by the drummer who wore pink trousers and socks with a beautiful bright blue shirt.
You realise how small the world is when Rudi asked where I was from and we talked about Norwich as he is a fan of the football club! We have decided to meet with them on Friday as they have suggested a place which they say sums up east Berlin so we shall see.

Oh I must explain the shoe cupboard.
Aylin was disappointed at my ignorance and lack of worldliness when it came to my wonderment and delight at her shoe cupboard. It resembles a tall thin filing cabinet that holds all her shoes. This and the fact that Aylin says I was snoring in my sleep last night confirms what I believed I am just a younger version of my Mum!

And on that note I will venture out into the sun to visit some sand sculptures and a beach bar in the middle of the city!

Love to all

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Ding Ding

I am sitting in the library computer room of Reading University looking across at the printers that now over a year ago caused me so much frustration and cost me alot of student pounds as I printed out my dissertation.

It has been an odd few days returning to a place that I hold fond memories of but had begun to be the stuff of the nostalgic flash back. Yet here I am and nothing here has changed significantly there are new faces and the building work continues to throw up many new and varied constructions. Yet I feel differently about the place where I had so much fun and spent so much time. What I have come to realise is that a home and a sense of belonging is something that you carry within yourself and is created by the loved ones who surround you rather than a place.

I am rather sad however that the library seating area that used to simply consist of a few stained chairs and two vending machines is now another aspiring starbucks. A place where the words 'fairtrade' and 'organic' trickle from everyone's lips without any notion of their true meanings or origins, there is instead a shared sense that by paying that little bit extra they can eleviate their guilt and 'off set' their unethical lifestyle choices. Wow that was a lovely hypocritical rambling which has made me fancy a mocha!

See you all soon keep in touch

much love

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here we go again!

Hello and welcome to all who have joined me once again as I embark on a whirl wind rip roaring tour.

After returning to Guernsey bursting with tales of my Peruvian exploits I wanted life to have fundamentally change for suddenly the purpose and the kinetic forces I had felt in South America to be equally strong in the channel. However what I first learnt was that life was the same the only decernable changes to Guernsey were the leaves on the trees and the new pots my mother had planted up in the garden.

After a few days of enjoying being clean I wanted to get going again. This is where the adventure begins. Talking to Bryony about my frustration at the slow pace of life she suggested another trip. Accompanying her to the middle east. Needless to say I jumped at the prospect. So now here we are, this afternoon I was back into Millets and buying more equiptment for another climate. Thus far my best buy has been a water bottle that also acts as a wind up lantern.

Next wednesday so in a week my journey shall begin with a short stop off in Reading to witness the momentous occasion of Mr Dan's graduation. We also hope to fit in a boogie at the best club in Berkshire and perhaps the whole of the south...REFLEX. I can almost hear Laura shrieking with well I wont even bother to say joy. After a weekend in th ding it is off to Berlin for several weeks to touch base with Leeny Peeny (Aylin for those of you less accustomed with these nick names). And then a week in the UK...any offers of accomodation?! and off to Jordan.

Well that is all I can type for the time being as I am off to the cinema....love to all

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too many goodbyes!

I am sitting in Lima airport lounge weighed down by bags of heavy Peruvian goodies and also by a heavy heart. I have had a day of goodbyes proceeded by an unforgettable goodbye party. Gian Carlos Vladimir and Rodolfo have just left me to fend for myself in the airport after being my Peruvian guides for two months I am sure they will be glad of a rest from my insistant chatter. I am so sad to be leaving making a final trip to the beach today where I sat sadly with Wily Robert Manuel and Doc and watched as the waves pounded the shore the sun beating down surrounded by friends I had to really remember why I was going home. I have made many promises of returning soon but dont know how realistic these are as I am to begin studying in September. I hope very much to return especially to Lima where I really feel settled and could indulge in a few months more of being "dancing and surfing queen" as I was so hailed last night.

Well let me do a little round up of the latest happenings since my return from Pisco. Well I quickly settled back in to Lima life of seeing friends, surfing and visiting the sights of the city. Vladi and I took a nice trip to see the huge dusty and sandy desert site of Patuchamac just outside Lima. Two explorers we climbed to pyramids giving us a great view across the lima valley and to the sea. Vladi has also been a guide taking me to the Inka markets and bargening on all the brilliant and colourful things I have bought without his help I think I would have been severely Gringoed!

Apart from the above I have been idle enjoying just sitting and chatting with friends meeting people on the beach such as Ross and his Peruvian dancer friend with whom I indulged in mid afternoon pisco sours and cocktails before having to visit the super market feeling rather tight as your grandmother might say and cooking up a meal for the Peruvian guys to say thanks for all they have done for me. Nazzer and I making up the British contingent of our group of friends decided upon a simple and fool proof meal of bangers and mash to give the guys a taste of our home. I needed the help and guidance of Deliha as my yorkshire pudding was less than successful but they were not to know!

And now here I am hardly able to believe that I am soon to be at home drinking tea with fresh milk again and able to understand what is going on around me without having to strain to hear the few words of Spanish I know.

Well I think I must go now as soon I will be in the air far above the country which I have grown to love.

chocolate milkshakes and shivering in the park

I am back in Lima, suddenly I became aware of how in Pisco my eyes were constantly scanning the ground for obstacles, deep holes uncovered, dogs sleeping in the road, sewage and rubbish. In lima I can walk with a purpose and a speed that I had had to cast aside in Pisco.

The last morning in Pisco was spent searching for a bottle of Pisco that was finally purchased from an old lady in the main sqaure selling all manner of bottles from her small stand. She sat under a small parasole and calmly refused to accept any of my haggling knowing that local would win over gringo. However afterwards I realised that the bottle had only cost me about four pounds. It was then a trip to the police station with my friend Gary who had lost his wallett the day before. When I say police station images of a building may be conjured up, no such structure exists in the ruins of Pisco. Instead the policemen dressed like soldiers wonder around the square, based around three small garden shead sized wood huts. They use old type writters and whatever was salvaged from the wreakage sits about them, dusty riot sheilds lean against rusty filing cabinets.

My bus journey back to Lima was uneventful apart from some cavalier over taking by our driver that resulted in arriving early back into Lima. In the evening I met up with friends at a cafe. Nazzer had returned to Lima with tales of his time spent in Cuzco and Arequipa. We sat drinking coffee and chocolate all exchanging stories of our weeks apart.

It felt good to be returning to somewhere where I have friends I could quite happily spent much more time here I just need to learn some Spanish!

jorge and the tounge twisters

What a day as Jorge sighed whilst we looked out over the sea and the fields of banana plants and cotton, "this is one of those moments". We had just had to roll our trousers up remove oue shoes and flip flops and climb up the side of an ancient mud brick pyramid. Jorge was dressed in a smart shirt and trousers as he had had to present his documents at the municiplaity in the morning, the sight of him clambering up the structure with the dust swirling was wonderful.

I had set off for Chinca in the morning catching a local bus full of people with large bags off to market. For the hour bus drive we entered the fertile valley filled with fields of cotton and asparagas. The cotton piled high at the sides of the road old men and young children alike resting on the piles mopping their brows in the incresing heat. In chinca I decided to explore the meet market, insides of all animals hanging from small stalls and covered in swarming flies. When I came out blinking in the sunlight I was immediately approached by Jorge, a 24 year old student in his final year of studying English keen to practice. He alerted me to the fact that my Lonely Planet guide was guiding me in the wrong direction as all the places I wanted to see had been destroyed in the earth quake so we decided he would show me "how people really live in my city". He took me to the outskirts where he took documents to the local government building to prove that his home had been destroyed in the earthquake and to try and get some aid that the government has now released. He then took me to a small shrine to the saint of Chinca where I wrote a small message on the mud walls alongside all the Spanish messages asking for miracles.

We stopped at a small fruit stall where we bought a gorgeous small rd fruit with such a sweet flavour. Jorge took me to meet his cousins and aunt all who live in a reed mat shack. The mud outside the opening into their tiny space was well swept and cared for, pride and dignity remaining despite terrible conditions.

We toured the city, popping into houses of Jorges friends so I could be introduced. We stopped for a late lunch and then onto the pyramid. Unfortunately my camara ran out of batteries before we reached the amazing structures so I will just have to try and explain. We took a taxi which dropped us some distance from the mud hills rising out of the neat fields. We walked down a track with laege bamboo on either side. We met a family working clearing some branches. The father hunched and wringled beckoned and led the way across some fields of maize and through some woods to his small shack cows tied outside and small puppy bouncing at our heels.

The only other observer of the ancient pyramids was a small grey owl who watched our comic ascent.

I travelled back to Pisco tired but happy my head filled with what I had seen who I had met and trying to answer Jorges question what was the origin of the English tounge twister?

burning men and the desert vultures

I have had the most beautiful and amazing weekend. I write again from Rositas small internet corner shop cafe whilst I rest my weary but happy self down at the computer. On Saturday I made my way into the centre of Pisco and changed my bus ticket to stay in Pisco until next Tuesday as I was meant to be leaving in the afternoon. I then went and bought a rather smart pair of trousers after over a week of wearing the same green linen trousers to work in I felt a nice pair would be good. These trousers now lay on my bed covered in shoot dust and with two large holes. Lets just say after two pitchers of rum and coke, neat pisco and beer fire dancing for the first time is not advisable, neither is falling down a well. I shall get to this part of the story later! So after sorting this out I decided to move out of the dorm where I have been living to a hostel to enjoy some nights of sleep without the continuous buzz of mosquitos, the pins and needles from the hard matrass, the endlless dog fights outside my window and the snoring. After entering the room I lay down and fell asleep straight away was fantastic.

In the evening the burning began. For the last few nights groups of people had been working on art projects ready for last nights party, I helped build a woman from bamboo and spare clothes. All the art work was to be burnt to create a mini burning man festival which is the festival from which the organisation has grown from. The sculpture looked fantastic and burnt so well all through the night until we left at 4am to embers glowed hot.

In the afternoon before the madness began I attended the opening ceremony of the school on which the volunteers had worked for the last 8 months, it was beautiful murals all over the walls and brightly coloured tiny chairs. The school is in a nearby area called San andreus very close to the beach and therefore still at huge risk from Tsunami. The ceremony involved smashing Champagne, consuming Pisco sour and listening to the assembled families and children join in a less than enthusiastic renition of Peru's national anthem.

After the ceremony we moved onto a bar we have frequented here, one of the only ones that is deemed safe for us, and luckily has a large outside space perfect for fire spinning and burning of art works. The night began with a ride in the back of a truck holding on for dear life as we bumped along the pot holed road a great speed.

Whilst here I have been learning to spin (dance with pois), but had resisted the lighting of the pois. However I was convinced that my skill was sufficient to be able to dance and spin after lots of rum et al. Needless to say my efforts were less than graceful and resulted in flames dancing about my head and shooty marks all over my clothes from an inability to stop striking myself with the pois. The holes in my trousers came from jumping a fence, the bruises on my legs from falling down what we think must have been a well and the dust from laying out on the ground listening to the panpipes being played and watching the last flames. The Peruvians are not ones for safety and had simply covered the open well with a thin sheet of coregated plastic and a tire, this was in close proximitty to the bar and so I think I was not the only one to fall down the well in the space of the evening!

Today started later than usual because of the aforementioned and so bleary eyed I stepped in to the sunlight at 11am. Gary was ready for the off as we had promised each other a trip to Paracas national park. I had a light breakfast of choclate milk, two satsumas and a banana not knowing that this was the only food I would eat for a good few hours. We caught a crowded van to Paracas where we began our hike, a small assembly of small houses and shacks by the sea. We had no idea how far the walk would be but we so enjoyed it and it was worth every mile. Beyoond the small tow of paracas lay the beautiful desert, the road stretching as far as the eye could see into the vast sand dunes and strange luna like rock formations. We walked 10 kilometres to some beautiful cliffs, petrified sand dunes to a massive scale. after this first part of the walk we sat on the cliffs over looking the sea, the only people for miles around. Pelicans swooping over the waves, vultures circling over head creating a surreal but fantastic experience. After some time taking in the scene we headed back as the sun set and walked for several hours. Back in Paracas we sat by the sea and ate huge plates of sea food. It was a beautiful and magical day.

So there we are a rather long and rambling entry for you all to yawn over. I am now off to bathe my feet which are sandy and sour before I tumble into my bed and sleep.

busting the water main and building shitters

Dear aall, I am sitting in the internet well I cannot really say cafe as this is a bad description for what is essentially a garage with a few machines.I am drinking a cold beer and thinking about the last few busy days. I have been helping in the work yard building the steel frames for the aptly named shitters, I have been building a art sculpture for the party tomorrow night to celebrate the finishing of one of the schools, I have been drinking lots of beer and eating lots of icecream, getting blisters from too much digging and shovelling and getting to know some fantastic people from all over the world.

Due to all the above facts and add in the fact that this place despite its dangers and tragic desolation has an indeniable magnestisim which can easily suck people in to staying here for months.

TOday whilst digging holes for the erection of a fence around one of the schools the organisation has been working on we managed to bust the water main. This resulted in a flood. This flood was stemmed by some ingenious plumbiong involving a plastic bag and some fire. This is what I love about this place its haphazard construction and cavalier attitude to safety to the point of pantomime proportions!

sweet bread and brick gathering

I really just wanted to write about the people that I have met here in Pisco these range from the little boy Jose who saw me working outside his home in the rubble and was ushered out by his mother bearing gifts of cold fanta and sweet bread. He stood by me and watched me devour his family´s kind offerings. These people who are so poor and living in horrendous conditions. After this three small boys playing foot ball on a pitch they had marked out in the foundations of what had been a school where many pupils had died, stopped their game took up spare tools and started to help chilsel at the bricks to help us in our work. I have also met amazing volunteers people who have dedicated their lives to helping others. Such an example is Andy, he is my project manager for the corner stone or shitters project. This involves the building and erection of 6 toilet blocks made from re-enforced concrete that will form the structural supports for the houses which they serve. Andy is the jolliest and warmest person you could hope to meet. He is trained as an engineer but has not had a job since 2004. He was caught up in the boxing day Tsunami he lost both his partner and best friend and was very lucky to survive himself. After months in hospital he returned and since this point has spent his life volunteering in disaster zones. He says that if ever he is again so close to death and has such time to contemplate and reflect upon his existence he wants to feel that he has helpèd. This is a valuable lesson and I hope that I too will live with as much courage and resiliance as Andy.

Today I have been out and about in Pisco searching through the rubbish tips and the rubble heaps for bricks to re use in the foundations for the toilet blocks. Whilst carrying out this job I had time to reflect and to look about me to realise that in a few seconds your life can be reduced to a pile of rubble.

chicken guts and stray dogs

I only have five minutes to write this entry so sorry that it is rushed I just had to get down a few images before they escaped my memory banks.

Yesterday was our day off I spent it firstly on a boat travelling around some local islands looking at the wildlife which ranged from penguins to sealions.

After this I spent the afternoon at the market the most amazing market I have ever seen.

The maze of small streets were crammed with sights smells and noise. I made the mistake of wearing flip flops, there were animal guts and blood strewn across the potholed roads, rubbish of all kinds, open sewers next to the cheese stalls. Street vendors everywhere pushing along their tempting trolleys of treats, chocolate raisins, sweets. People sitting eating at small stalls women expertly cutting cows heart with a huge knife and frying it for her customers. I stopped for a bowl of noodles in part of the internal and covered market. the stall was a cross between a cafe serving chiense food, a corner shoop people coming to buy cartons of milk and a take away where rather novely the lady prepared all the vegetable and then popped them in a bag like a ready meal everything sliced and ready to cook. The various fruits and all the colours I never knew potatoes could be was what held my attention.

I am sorry for the lack of interest that this blog provides...I must be off to get some supper before the 50 other volunteers eat it all!

blisters aches dust and desert

above so far describes my experience of pisco

This is not to say it has not been enjoyable.

On my first day of work it was up and ready after a night sleping on a mattrass that I swear is made from hardboard. I chose to work on a project down by the sea front. What used to be a smart area is now a very dangerous place to be with rapes attatcks and stabbings on a weekly basis. The earthquake which has brought such destruction physically to Pisco has also shattered peoples lives in soo many ways. The project was to build some kitchens and canteens to feed local children attatched to the church. The church is now entiorely made out of reed matting but still has windows fitted in to the translucent walls to provide the correct celestial light. We shifted rubble all day levelling the ground which here is a hard task. Even the room from which I write in is contorted and twisted, the flor raises to a peak in the centre and the walls are splintered.

After a long day of work it was back home for the compulsory Peruvian meal of rice and meat oh and ofcourse potatoes. Then a football match between the gringos and the Peruvians. It was held out of pisco we travelled there in the boot of a car all squished in at odd angles. After the match we headed to a small bar, a beach shack made from bamboo and reeds that only sold beer and nothing else but it had hammocks fire and what they claimed was a dineosaur egg proudly displayed in the middle of the seating area surrounded by flaming tourches.

Today being Saturday has only been a half day of work, which I was pleasede with due to the stiffness of my limbs. I was working on a school. This will the first permanent structure in a yet unnamed settlement. The settlement was created out of necessity after the earthquake when people fled to the hills to avoide a tsunami. The settlement is a sprawling mass of reed shacks stretching into the desert watched over by a statue of Christ arms outstretched. The sun was beating down as we dug and scrapped pick axed and raked.

I am now off to find the centre of this deserted town that is populated by dogs and cows who wonder aimlessly picking at rubbish boney and incongorous in the desert landscape. Although it seems deserted we have been told under no circumstances to go anywhere alone so Gary and I are braving it sadly however this means no photos as it is too dangerous to take anything of worth so I hope my descriptions are vivid enough to surfice.

Best wishes to one and all

oh and congratulations to all those chemists who have now officially completed their degrees you know who you are!

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pisco power

This title acts as a double meaning. I refer both to the brandy based spirit that I was enjoying last night in Rustica a small bar on the busy and bustling Pizza street in Lima and to the group with which I have just helped teach English in the ruined city of Pisco.

Iam jammed into a corner of a shop that doubles as a chemist an internet cafe and a local hang out the only lit area of this street. I have never been anywhere quite like this. Pisco is quoted as being one of the most dangerous places in Peru this is due to earthquakes and violence brought on by the natural disasters and the resulting poverty. This was a very encouraging thing to be told when I first arrived and was welcomed and ushered into the commune. I am working here with a small and independent NGO called Burners without Boarders. It is a really informal gathering of like minded people pooling their skills which especially lie in art to change and improve situations for others. We are living in an old house with a large outdoors courtyard with bamboo shelter. When I arrived after a long bus journey from Lima supper was ready. I helped myself to the rice to which I am now so used. And sat around meeting the others who have come from all over the world and found themselves here in a broken down wrecked town with no tarmac, in some parts no electricity or water but with alot of stray dogs and alot of spirit and determination to get back onto its feet.

My accomodation is a small matrass on an even smaller bunk bed in a mosquito invested room. I have never seen so many bugs and since I have arrived have been constantly swiping the air around my head. The washing facilities are even more basic with some cloth slung on a pole in the open air so I beleive I will be getting to know my felly burners quite well!

Each night there are planned activities with which you can get involved like tonight an English class for a gathering of people as there are no English classes here.

So I may go now looking at the time as I want to get sufficient sleep before a tough day of work tomorrow I believe I will be helping to build a school.

I hope all is well with everyone looking forward to hearing all your tales soon!

Lots of love from Pisco

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yo ho ho and a good morning to all

I hope that everyone is well and feeling bright and breezy.

I am sorry that my last few posts have been less than lyrical and lacking in interesting observations and tip bits about life here. I am now feeling rejuvinated and ready to face the day after a glorious sleep, after a meeting up with Rudolfo and Gian Carlos for a hot chocolate in the park I was off to bed lulled to sleep by the musical car alarms. And awoke dreaming of glorious sunshine, unfortunately my dreams are yet to be realised and a mist is hanging heavy over the city. This unfortunate weather will I hope infact be an aid to my state of mind and will enable me to fully concentrate on preparing for my interview tomorrow of which my details are rather sketchy. So today is spent like those that I have left behind in Reading cramming, sitting surrounded by sheets of paper and highlighters. I do however lack an appropriate work station so instead will be taking my revision to lovers park giving me the inspriational view of the sea and the city and ofcourse ample numbers of lovers. This will ofcourse aid my thoughts on human rights (which the interview concerns) in terms of freedom of expression. Here, as seems to be the case in the rest of South America, young lovers (what a wonderful phrase that makes me sound like ancient and dusty academic) feel that there is no need for a private location to express their wanton desire and affection for their partner. Instead everyone becomes fully aware of the nature of their feelings. I got into a discussion about this behaviour yesterday with an American girl and we both agreed that we were more comfortable in our relatively prudish countries.

With this beautiful image of human interaction and intimate communication I bid you farewell as I must to work.

Lots of Lima love to all (dont worry not that kind of love!)

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opps

Just realised I didnt explain the title of the last blog. This morning the sea was as Manuel put it "rude". It didnt give me any rest between its insistent and strong waves. This meant that my tired arms and bruised body found it hard to stay afloat. On the last wave I was dragged under water for some time hit over the head with my board and bashed on the rocks. I therefore emerged coughing spluttering and looking very miserable. Manuel announced at this point that it was time to get out anyway. For the rest of the morning my rushing about was not aided by my throbbing head, bruised hips and the water that continued to run from my nose like a tap. Wow what a lovely picture I paint of myself! I never was good in the morning!

dribbling noses

What a frantic few days it has been here back in the hustling and bustling land of Lima. Holly arrived late in the night on Saturday and we were soon off to sleep. I was a hard task master and made her head down to the beach on Sunday morning to watch well I had hoped join in, but she was reluctant seeing the rough grey sea, so Manuel and I took to the waves whilst Holly got to know Willey always keen to try out his English on Gringas!

After a good long surf I showed Holly the sights of Miraflores the Indian Markets and the parks before we headed to the hotel to meet the group. All talk was positive in the evening spurred on by pisco sour it seemed as if I would be able to join the group the next day for the trip. In the cold light of a Monday morning however this had all changed and I waved Holly goodbye.

I was up this morning at 5.30am Manuel kindly decided to phone me to see if I would like to fit in some more surf before heading off. After a few hours i returned to the flat and began a morning of which even Anika Rice with her great experience of rushing around would have been proud. All the forces conspired against my success, with blocked email accounts, internet down cash points not working. I took all this as a sign and admitted defeat. I sat on the pavement outside the hotel for some time head in hands, this is aparently the right posture to adopt if I want to avoide any more unwanted male attention as I was not approached once which is extremely rare here. So here I am trying to decide what to do and worrying about Holly all on her own. So now enough self pity time to stand up shake it out and get started with a plan of action. My vote is head to the bar and think about it there...anyone else joining me?

milky tea, sea urchins, and beer

The above describes so far my experience of being back in Lima but the order well you decide!

I arrived back last night at about 9.30pm weary but so pleased to be HOME. I felt so at ease when we drove through the last check point to arrive back in the city of so many sides and 50 districts.

When I arrived back at the flat I was welcomed by the wonderful Valetina and Junior the dog. I made a quick change around and left again at 10pm to go and meet the guys for a drink. I stippulated to them when I arrived at the cafe that one drink was my limit. I arrived home again at 4am. Lets just say we never said how big or long the drink had to be. We all headed to a salsa club for Marco's birthday. I met Marco some weeks ago, he has no English but a good smile and some mean moves on the dance floor. There were several live bands by whom I was seduced and however cheesy and greasy salsa maybe I cant resist its sweaty charms.

This morning after a few hours sleep I was up again for surfing. I plodded down to the beach dutifully to be met by Manuel hobbling dramatically from sea urchin spikes that he had taken on board on Friday. I have had such spikes stuck in my feet for a week now and felt no inclination to make such a dramatic show of distress and he calls himself a tough surfer and laughs at my bruises.

After a successful lesson where Manuel and I decided that I am 85% there (we hit a good compromise number) I stayed for a time chatting with the other surfers and struggling to maintain my dignity as I yanked at my wetsuit and fell into the sand.

Upon my return I faced the phone call from home that I knew would confirm my worst ideas that yes I am unable to continue on my trip that I had so been looking forward to and that altitude is a no go zone. So now the afternoon lies ahead for planning I have a wealth of Lonely Planet books and I will now actually get round to reading them and bending their spines rather than returning to Guernsey with them in pristine condition.

My initial plan is to head to Pisco, Ica and then Arequipa as this is only at 7000 feet so I think me old body can handle this and then possibly into Bolivia although this is also pretty high and I will have to avoide the sacred Lake Titicaca. so all in all I will atleast be avoiding the path most trod and exploring Peru the alternative way. Yesterday my mind was split ignore the advice and go any way screw the risks or re gather my thoughts and take it slow. I have decided for the safer second option for I do want to return home at some point!

I was however told by Vladimir that I would be able to get a job here in Lima even with my poor spanish that extends to talking about the weather. So maybe i will be in Lima for longer than planned, well atleast they have milk here!

I hope that all is well on the home front

Love to one and all

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the land with no milk

I have had my last day of no milk and am looking forward to returning to Lima for a good cup of milky tea! For those of you who know me well or actually anyone who knows me as a passing aquaintance will know that to me milk is the source of life. Here in Trujillo I have been having to drink black tea as there seems to be no milk available, this will be the thoughts that fill my mind when on the bus back to Lima.

Today I have unfortunately recieved some unsettling news concerning my fitness to survive at altitude, sounds all very dramatic but it isnt really. Due to my attempts to be honest I told the company whom I was meant to be meeting in Lima on Sunday of my lung problems in the past. This sparked off a chain of form filing and emails and letters and angry phone calls all dealt with diligently by my base team namely Mum and Dad. However it transpires upon advice from my surgeon who carried out the procedure that if I were to suffer a problem at altitude I would suffer brain damage within the hour, this is no way to begin a year of masters study! So I have been struck off the list no company willing to put up with my potential for health problems. Next time I think I will join the rank and file and be dishonest about my internal conditioning. So now here I am once again alone and wondering what to do with myself. Well I have a nine hour bus journey to decide upon a course of action and to read my lonely planet book and see what this advises me to do. Maybe a trip to Bolivia is not entirly out of the questions.

So anyone any ideas? Tell me what I should do...

Hope all is well and that everyone is enjoying nice cups of milky tea on my behalf.

P.s. saw a strange sight yesterday an open truck with three tigers travelling in the back.

I have to be very quick

Hello all from fair Trujillo, the tumbling and crumbling colonial city surrounded by many archaeology sites of national importance. I have had a wonderful few days here enjoying and getting covered, it is very dusty, in the heritage of the Moche valley.

What picture can I paint for you of this area well let me see, it took 9 hours to reach by bus, the landscape changing across the whole journey, deserts abutting the sea, cultivated valleys of maize, mountains that looked as though entirely constructed of small pebbles, people lining the dusty road nothing more than dirt tracks, sitting waiting and watching under the dappled shade provided by the scant trees or the punctured corregated iron resting upon mud bricks still produced in the traditional way. Trujillo is hailed as competeing for the title of second city in Peru, all this must be based on is the facades of the buildings that surround the Plaza in the centre. The streets that flank the plaza of shiny marble and old men proped on one arm dozing in the sun are tumbling away. Layers of paint curl in the sun, door ways bricked up, wood worm devours the thick and ornately carved doors. The old colonial buildings which still stand house not the rich as they were intended for but instead themselves been colonised by groups of people of varying trades. I sat in a once grand courtyard sipping a cold beer, the collums towering over head, the cracked roof tiles scattered on the tiled floor. In the corner a man eyed me suscpiciously as he moved his foot rhymically on his ancient sewing machine peddle. the courtyard also housed a small bar, a betting shop and a photocopying machine all squished together and seperated by hardboard.

The weather is hotter here and the dust swirls. There is constant noise and activity the street vendors moving shouting peddling their heavy loads along the pot holed streets.

I really must go as I have to eat, all I do here is eat the fruit on the market stalls is wonderful and there is one you can eat like a lolly pop and suck out the contents.

I hope everyone is well I miss you all

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flickering light

This time it is the light above my head and not the screen, I know I know I am full of excuses! I am also full of water, I had an afternoon of surfing when I was meant to be packing and organising the trip which I am going on tomorrow opps!

I got up for 6am surfing this morning and waited and waited for Manuel only to discover later this afternoon that none of my messages got through to him as I had run out of credit! At least that explains the spanish message that kept flashing on the mobile´s screen. So after forty minutes looking like a wally this morning whilst people jogged past me and I tried to make gestures as if I was stretching in preperation for sport to feel less conspicous, I headed home and off to work. My last day at the Huaca which is a shame I have really enjoyed my time there. After work it was lunch and then down to meet Robert my alternative surfing teacher. The only problem with Robert is that he speaks no English at all so there we were floating in the middle of the ocean both frantically waving our hands about as he tried to explain various techniques to me.

I havent written for a few days what updates can I bring you? Well yesterday was spent with Chris, a friend from University days, who just happened to be passing through lima on his way home after 6 months on the road. We went out on Wednesday evening and then on Thursday he came to visit me at work. I tried to give him an interesting and in depth tour but you will have to ask him how I did. After that we grabbed some lunch eating far too much cheese and ham in the park. Then it was down to the beach to show him where I have spent alot of my time, we got there just in time for sunset. After a long week we both decided a quiet night would be nice so we stayed at the apartment and watched a bit of tv.

Tonight the plan is party party before Chris has to leave for the airport at 3.30am!! So we shall start early. The group should be big this evening as all of the surfer guys are coming to collect me at 8pm and promise that they can not only surf but also bust some mean groves!!!

Tomorrow I head up north so I may not write for a few days I have a busy time ahead and am looking forward to the long bus journey to catch some much needed shut eye.

well sorry for the borring nature of this entry as I said a combination of the flashing light and the water. Hope all is well with everyone love you all xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

flickering screen

Above is my excuse for if this blog is incohernet or in anyway deficient, the screen is awful and making me feel quite trippy!

How is everyone? Well I hope and enjoying everything that you are up to.

I have had another long day with a 5.30 am start down at the beach. Manuel my teacher was unimpressed when I showed him my surfing injuries, I thought that they may give me some cache or beach cred but he laughed, showed me huge white scars on both his legs and told me that he had also on one occasion broken his nose. These he quipped were what showed he was a real surfer as he pushed me into the sea. Wow this is just the kind of friendly encouragement that you need to hear.

I am going out for drinks tonight which I am beginning to think may be a bad decision as my company may be less than thrilling for the other party as I discuss in detail the dvd that Manuel made me watch all afternoon. A dvd which he kept pausing and rewinding to show me again and again how to stand up properly on the board. I tried to sound very enthusiastic about watching a film in Spaninsh about the different types of waves on the Peruvian coast but I think even with my incredible and undeniable talent he was less than convinced and sent me home to "practice practice" which I am yet to begin.

His flat shared with several other surfers was how I would imagine stepping back into the seventies would be. All the walls covered in posters of surfers, of waves or of Bob Marley. A certain scent hanging in the air and surf boards propped up against the walls.

I left this surreal shrine to regge and the sea and wondered the streets of Miraflores. Yesterday I ventured into the centre for the first time. I had heard horror stories of the violence and the dirt. So I went with mixed feelings but felt that I should give it a chance. It was absolutely beautiful just the type of decaying grandeur that I most enjoy, colonial buildings covered in layers of flaking paint, old men sitting in dark lower rooms with barred mending shoes or dozzing in the afternoon. The two main sqaures a scene of activity the roads shared by huge old American cars, the Lima VW beetles, horses and tanks protecting the president. I visited the catacombs and the monastry which was beautiful, before heading back to Miraflores to watch the sunset from lovers park.

I had originally intended to visit Bolivia from Friday of this week, having looked at the distances that I would have to cover and the limited time I have I have opted instead to head up the coast of Peru to Trijiou. Manuel informs me that this area has some of the longest waves in world. I dont think I am ready for such waves so may stick to dry land whilst there. There is a huge amount of pre-inca and inca archaeology in this area (you may all let out a yawn or a sigh at this point) so I will be having a great time knee deep in history.

Righteo I must be off supper calls me!

Love to all xxxxxxxxxxxxx

misty morning

When I walked to the beach this morning an errie mist had decended on the city. We were the only people on the beach apart from three fishermen chatting and fixing holes in their nets. We were joined in the sea by large pelicans who I think were much better at surfing than I.

What I really wanted to write down before I forgot it was something that I saw when in another part of the city the other day...there were road works being carried out at the side of the road. An old abandoned unloved car with flat tyres was parked and the laying pipes had continued around it and underneath. It was as if the car had been stranded by an ebbing tide. So maybe the saying should go every car is an island.

well I know what I will be doing at 6am tomorrow morning the question is do you?

The answer to this question for most sensible people would be "well I will be in bed dreaming of a world made entirely of ice cream". I however must reply "I will be surfing most probably stuck under my board arms waving frantically"

Yep you have guessed it he found me darn it I thought I had the Peruvian look tied down! Anyway unable as always to resist the idea of putting on a rubber suit in the early hours and frolicking in the surf I relented and now have reset my alarm and feel like heading for bed with a few surfing press ups thrown in for good measure. However, I stupidly accepted an invitation to meet for drinks with a friend, I do not feel that I will be the most thrilling company as they sit and marvel as I scratch my head constantly because of the amount of sand I took on board, and whilst I yawn in an over dramatised way and rub my eyes.

Just a little hint and tip from me to you when propositioned by a breath takingly handsome man on the beach carrying a surf board who takes you out for a drink dont sit there dreamingly nodding whilst staring into his eyes as you may be agreeing to entering into training to be a pro surfer when all you wanted was a dinner and a movie!

exhausted but happy

I write to you as above. A lovely weekend was had by all. Birthday celebrations for Vladimir on Friday which involved coupious amounts of Salsa and some greased up men dancing to Brazilian music (not greased up deaf guys for the benefit of EDD and DAN). Then after a very long night Saturday began with a beautiful lie in which I have not had in a long while and then a walk around and around (I got lost and refuse to read a map and am actually incapable of reading a map anyway).

After his very heavy night on Friday which led to the loss of his glasses Vladimir was not put off the idea of another night out so we headed off to Barranco. Begining the night in a wild way...with coffee and hot chocolates at a lovely small bar before off to the salsa clubs.

Bed at 5am and then up at 9am. Rudolfo collected me in the car, we were all apparently heading to a very good beach a drive away from the city. The sea mist had descended on lima and we decided it was time to head south. We bumped along the dirt roads swerving to avoid large potholes, flower sellers and tuk tuks. We arrived at the beach. The strangest beach I have ever seen. Not the beach itself but the small collection of houses, shops and resturants all clustered at the side of the dirt road, all constructed seemingly from what was washed up and all ghostly as it is low season here. We swam or rather jumped around in the sea, the large waves making it difficult to work on our butterfly strokes. I looked out at the surfers and began to think I prefer to watch them than to join in. As I am writing this however I have spotted out of the corner of my eye my surfing teacher so I will keep my head down and hope that he doesnt noitice the 6 foot tall white poodle headed gringo...I am sure I fit right in!

due to popular demand a blog for everyone (you are still special to me Laura)

Hi everyone, a very busy few days here in Lima town, with much to report!

I have been surfing two early early mornings in a row. Meeting my surfing teacher who says to me "feel the sea surfing is a feeling" Well I told him today after the lesson that yes surfing was a feeling and that it mainly hurts. I have bruised ribs, cut feet (tredding on sea urchins), cut knees, and a nose full of water. My first lesson was very much fitting the description of beginners luck and for the catching of several waves I got a hearty pat on the back today however I recieved a muted good job and a practice practice.

Do you know what I would most like to do tonight? Lay in bed and watch a movie! I have been out and about everynight this week, drinks in lovers park on Monday, a meal and dancing salsa on Tuesday, the water park on wednesday with Peruvians who didnt speak English we communicated through a shared sense of regaining our childhood and running through all the fountains catching the bus home soaking wet, yesterday I met up with some guys I met last weekend and we took a tour of the local salsa clubs watching how it is all really done...exhausting just watching! Tonight I believe will follow the pattern of last weekend drinks at the beach watching the moon light and the reflection of the huge illuminated cross shimmer on the sea. And then off to Barranco for dancing. This time I hope to retain my shoes and not return home in the early hours looking as though I have been down a coal mine.

Today has been a day of first, it began as I waited at 6am in the park for Manuel, the surfing teacher, I saw my first wild humming bird zipping around the flowers. I have become quite accustommed to the large black vultures that constantly circle over head, but the sight of this little magical bird got me quite excited. Then there was the witnessing of my first Lima car crash...or to be correct I should say bus crash, not serious but enough to increase the horn noises for a good few minutes. Then perhaps most dramatc of all my first real shoot out outside the gates of the archaeological site. Shoot out makes it sound more like a wild west event. From what I could gather from the others on site, a man had tried to break into someones car, met resitance and shot the owner, luckily he wasnt too badly injured. But my goodness as I was dozing quitely after my busy morning awaking to the sound of a rapid succession of gun shots is not quite what I am used to in Guernsey!

What else can I say?....Answers on a post card to Mel in mad crazy but great fun Lima

Love to all xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

this one is for Laura!

Hello all from sunny Lima
I hope that life is treating you all well. I am in to my second week at the site and my second week smiling and nodding whilst Peruvians chat away to me and I do not understand. Thus far this tactic has worked and I was even able to purchase a mobile phone that works which I was unable to do even in my native tounge.

The days pass nicely with the mornings spent sorting through amazing finds whilst listening to Salsa music which is there to drown out Roddys insecent chatter. As a group of gringo (foreigners) volunteers we all went out last night to celebrate a birthday and then headed to a salsa club with lots of UV lights and dry ice. On the wall was painted Machu pichu in flourescent paints, I have never before seen Machu Pichu as a new rave destination but maybe now that will all change and it will become a destination of the Ibiza status for all the hip young things.

This afternoon I will head down to the beach to watch the surfers. On monday I was approached by a guy asking if I would like to learn to surf I declined preferring instead to sit and read but he was persistant and I gave in to his pursuation. The sun by this time however was setting so he said that I would be best to surf early on Tuesday morning for beginners waves and to avoide the harsh glare of both the public and the sun. I dutifully set my alarm for 5.30. However in my infinate wisdom I set the watch for 5.30 pm rather than am. i therefore left the poor surfer waiting for me on the beach at the unearthly hour of 6am whilst I was snug in my bed. I have decided that I can put up with the scrutinising eyes rather than get up at such an hour.

For now I hope that this will surfice as the sun is shining and I want to go and see what is happening at the beach!

Love to all xxxxxxxxxxx (especially Laura)

a sunday

After a frantic few nights of Salsa I am feeling the effects of sore feet and lack of sleep. Although I have been told that if I can relax my shoulders I should be good at the Salsa I think by the swiftness of step there may be more to the dance than just slouched shoulders!

To recover from such nights I am spending Sunday as it was truely intended and am off to read in the park and eat lunch in the sunshine whilst dreaming of what I hope to uncover whilst digging on Monday.

Lima is a scene of activity as the streets are cleaned resurfaced the flower beds watered and trees cut. All is in preperation in a few weeks time of the `world leaders´ arrive they will be visiting the site so the plan is to bury Bush.

Any way must pop off now and have something to eat before my rumbling tummy annoys the Peruvians too much!

Roddy!

Roddy truely does deserve such punctuation.
I had heard of Roddy, Roddy the scottish archaeologist, Roddy who is volunteering on the same site as me but was yet to meet him. And after spending all morning listening to his stories I wish that I was still ´yet to meet Roddy´.

He wondered into the finds hut about an hour late wearing the typical archaeologist uniform of crumpled shirt, beaded necklaces shorts dusty boots and wide hat. This looked promising until he opened his mouth, for hours I dutifully sat, listened, nodded and applauded his greatness where he paused for such reactions.
However, after all this I must have with one of my nods of agreement confirmed that we are to meet after work tomorrow for lunch and that we may go for drinks this weekend.
How I get into these messes I dont know but I also seem to be expected to call in for him on the way to work I may forget this duty as I enjoy a brisk walk in the mornings and despite the length of his white and hairy legs he seems unable to pick up much pace.

I just felt I should say something about Roddy as he atleast deserves a paragraph due to the time I was required to sit and listen to his tall tales.

nearly time for supper so i must be quick

Oh my goodness I must be one of the biggest computer dunces! I have been trying to post for days only to realise today that I was entering the wrong address! I must add this to my list of general failings such as inability to open drinks cartons or scew the lid back on a bottle.

I hope that this message finds everyone well and content. I must certainly am if a little dusty, lungs full of fumes and fingernails encrusted with pre-inca Lima culture dirt...mmm what a nice picture I paint of Lima!

All is great here i am really enjoying myself meeting some lovely people from all around the world apart from the American hugely over weight man with hair the colour of an unwashed carrot who told me he spends his time here chasing girls I should think he has to chase them that is all I can say.

Well what can i tell you about Lima to give you an impression if you have not visited it before...

Lima is very much a feast for the senses, it is full to the brim with sights, sounds and smells.
The brightly coloured and odly named old American school buses that pound down the streets, men in blue uniforms hang out of their doors shouting the bus route, the flavour of roasted chicken that hangs in the air near the park in Miraflores, the fumes pumped from a fast food resturant, the men who all in blue overalls and peaked caps shine shoes for the smartly dressed businessmen, the street sweepers in their garish orange overalls carry what llok like props from a film of the borrowers, oversized old fashioned brooms and dustpans, the blind begger man who stands tapping his cane and calling out, the cars are perhaps the most notable and prevalent prescence in the city. They push and shove each other jostling for position on the busy streets sounding their multivarious horns at the slightest provication. If you so much as look up when walking a taxi of some description will pull up beside you to negotiate a price. All is frantic.


I dont know if this long and rambling paragraph helps to paint a picture of a city that even after such a short time has really gotten under my skin, both metophorically as well as literally but I must now go and eat sleep and maybe fit in some merriment!

fogged in!

Well well Peru not quite as imminent as I had originally thought!
Having spent all day today rushing around finding out my phone was not going to work in Peru, buying a new one, packing and re packing, getting injected with Hep A and B and drinking what I thought were going to be my last cups of English tea I am still on the rock!

The sea mists rolled in and covered the little airport whilst the rest of the island basked in relative sunshine. Unfortunately this mist has prevented me from leaving for Peru! So atleast today has been a dress rehearsal and if all goes to a traditional plan then a bad dress rehearsal means a good performance! So I shall try again tomorrow.

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the time is nigh

The time is really ticking by and I have a long list of things to still achieve before leaving the rock. I have been trying to establish a secure method of uploading photographs for my trip and believe that I have achieve this with flickr...so to access my doubtlessly wonderful and extremely exciting photographs in my absence simply access http://www.flickr.com/photos/aspiringindiana/ and hopefully you will be impressed.

Anyway for now all this seems very distant as I must return to hoovering and dusting my room.

in the beginning

By creating this blog I feel I am opening myself up to scrutiny so you is best to scrutinise me but my friends and family who will be privy to my ramblings? I would first like to welcome you all and hope that you are all sitting comfortably. I am heading off in a few weeks now so i am 'ironing out' all those niggling problems and concerns about travelling and setting up some way of communicating was one of those things on my list of things to do. So here goes this is a good a beginning as any to the story of my travels. I christen this blog random ramblings and rants, good luck to all that sail in her!

Love to all

Melly the pelliest pelly in the east

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