diane salter - Salter's travels

Gravensodden

First nature landing of the trip. We arrived at Magdalenafjorden in the morning. One of the more spectacular fjords of Svalbard, it is surrounded by rough snowy peaks and glaciers emerging from dark rocky valleys. Gravensodden is a site of significant historical interest. Whaling operations began here back in the 16^th century which is also when the first graves were dug. Since then, many people, whales and walrus have died here. The people, over a hundred of them, got buried while the animals were boiled down in large blubber ovens. The grave site is fenced off and out of bounds. In the past, tourists opened the coffins that had been pushed up to the surface by the action of permafrost. They took bones as souvenirs and even made campfires from the wooden coffin remains. This sort of thing is frowned upon now. Tales from the past talk of many animal remains strewn around although we saw little of this. We did enjoy a short wander around while taking in the scenery and in the far distance spotted a handful of walruses.

Back on board the Spitsbergen, we headed to our next landing site, Smeerenburg, but discovered a polar bear had got there first. This meant no landing. Too dangerous. Polar bears look cute from a distance but they are the apex predator. Powerful and occasionally unpredictable. We watched from a distance and from the safety of the ship. The bear was quite difficult to spot. Using a smartphone as a camera your bear would be just a couple of pixels big. A white dot in the middle of large mountainside. Fortunately, before this trip started, I had upgraded my camera equipment. Started off by selling everything. Over the years I had accumulated a varied selection of lenses and camera bodies. I only took a selection of these travelling but even so it felt like lugging around a lot of gear. So, the whole lot went on ebay and I started again. Began with a Canon EOS R5 MkII. Mirrorless cameras offer a lot of advantages over the traditional SLR. Smaller, lighter, faster. Less moving parts. Battery life is a bit of an issue but manageable if you prepare. The combination of mirrorless with latest generation of lenses is powerful and lightweight. Sensors are now more sensitive. Combined with image stabilisation this means you can use smaller aperture lenses. I went for a 200-800mm for distance work, 70-200mm for general purpose and 24-70mm for wide angles. Three lenses, one body, a handful of batteries and a monopod. So far, this is all working out extremely well. In fact, I am even considering dropping the monopod because the low light performance is so good.

Meanwhile, back at the bear, it was still in the far distance, whatever lens you used. He walked around but never came any closer. The ship is not allowed to go closer. Another, much smaller, ship had arrived with more spectators with long lenses. They also kept a good distance. We watched for the best part of an hour and then spotted that the bear had picked up some sort of large, white plastic bag. I found this a bit sad. The bear was playing with discarded rubbish. We left him to it and sailed round the corner into Fuglefjorden. Another fabulously pretty fjord with glaciers calving directly into the water. Pleasant weather meant a chance for the kayakers to get out for a paddle. Neither Diane nor I are especially interested in kayaking albeit for different reasons. I have, from time to time, kayaked in a range of places but never really found it particularly engaging. Diane is afraid that she would fall in the icy water and die. We watched the paddlers and pondered the glaciers for a while before wandering off to find a cocktail to end the day.

Next day we landed at Jotunkjeldene where there is a hot spring. This was interesting but not as exciting as it might have been because we were not allowed anywhere near it. The water is heated by a geothermal hot spot deep underground. As is seeps out, colourful minerals, carbonates, are deposited in a slowly growing dome. We had a nice walk and found a lot of flowers. Very short growing season here so all the flowers everywhere come out at the same time. I was impressed with how hardy they are. Eight months of freezing cold and snow then they pop up at the first chance to bask in the sun.

In the afternoon we were a little further down Liefdefjorden at an old trapper’s hut called Texas Bar. Nobody could offer a good explanation for the name. It is not in Texas or from Texas and it is definitely not a bar. It is however one of the few names in the area that I can confidently pronounce. Technically it is a historic relic although it could easily be mistaken for an old shed. Apparently some hardy souls still use it in the winter after travelling by snow mobile from Longyearbyen. We walked a short way up the hillside. As far as we were allowed. Then we hung around for a while enjoying the views and trying to spot Beluga whales in the shallows. Somebody claimed they saw an arctic fox – but I am not sure I believed them.

Ny-Ålesund

It was late afternoon when we landed at Longyearbyen. We were, for all intents, a complete ship’s complement of guests. About 80 of us. Once all the luggage had been retrieved, we got herded into a couple of coaches and driven into town. Our hotel was the Funken Lodge. I was slightly disappointed to find nothing funky about it although it is a pleasant hotel. In the evening, we reacquainted ourselves with the town taking care to stay inside the limits. It is actually an offence to leave Longyearbyen without a flare gun and rifle in case of polar bears. We found some geese trotting around with small, fluffy goslings. They seemed harmless.

Next day we had a tour of Longyearbyen. This intrigued me because Longyearbyen is not very big. You can walk right round it in 20 minutes. What actually happened was that we were taken by coach out to a clutch of buildings not far from where we met our sledge dogs last year. Here, in a cosy little hut with a blazing fire we were given a short talk along with coffee and pancakes. I slipped out early to visit the dogs tied up outside and to photograph a rather indignant Arctic Tern. Later we were taken to the museum and eventually to our ship, the MS Spitsbergen.

The ship is a converted car ferry. Just under 100m long. She was refitted by Hurtigruten and went into service in 2016. Although the vessel can carry over 300 passengers, most trips involve fewer. In our case there were about 80 people. MS Spitsbergen is a comfortable ship. Our cabin was compact and well equipped. Meals are served at a buffet restaurant. The large bar at the front of the ship is also used for lectures and presentations. One of the old car decks now holds half a dozen RHIBS for shore landings and cruising.

We spent the evening exploring the ship and the bar. Next morning we woke to find the ship tied up at Ny-Ålesund. The settlement was established to mine coal. This never worked very well. Neither did an attempt to quarry marble. Not recognised officially as a town by the Norwegian Government, it is the northernmost functional civilian settlement in the world. Ny-Ålesund has an all-year permanent population of 30 to 35, with the summer population reaching 114. Most people there are involved in research. Eighteen research institutions from eleven countries have a more or less permanent presence.

It is also the place from where Amundsen and Umberto attempted to reach the North Pole. They used an airship and flew over the pole to Alaska. The discovery of the North Pole is a complex story but this is regarded by some as the first successful expedition to the North Pole. The airship was moored using a 30m steel tower. It is still there.

We wandered around for a while. I got the odd glimpse of some interesting looking science. Naturally, being tourists, we were not allowed anywhere near any of them. In the far distance we could see two large vertically orientated parabolic radio dishes. These are a very-long-baseline interferometer. Part of a global network of devices used to precisely fix the position of the earth in space, monitor its orbit and monitor satellites. We looked at the Zepplin tower, an abandoned mine train and found another bust of Amundsen. The weather started to close in so headed back to the ship.

Miniatur Wunderland

We are going back to Svalbard. Last year we had a brilliant land-based week there doing dog sledding and snowmobiles. This time we were going to sail right around the archipelago with HX (formerly known as Hurtigruten Expeditions) on the converted ferry boat, the MS Spitzbergen.

First, we needed to get to Oslo. We chose to drive. Partly because I liked the idea of a short road trip in the newly repaired Range Rover. Also to visit a few friends along the way. The friends all turned out to be unavailable, so we went to Miniatur Wunderland instead. A converted warehouse in Hamburg is home to what Guinness World Records describes as the world’s largest model railway system. Apparently one of the most popular and visited sights in Germany. 1,230 digitally controlled trains with 12,000+ wagons. 5,280 houses, more than 11,800 vehicles, 52 airplanes and around 290,000 figures.

It is all quite remarkable. The entire train set spans several rooms and two buildings. The scenes are all interconnected. Here and there are glass panels set into the floor where you can see trains travelling between the different areas. Every 15 minutes or so the room lights fade and the models go into night mode. Tiny little lights, thousands of them, switch on everywhere. The first few rooms are areas around Hamburg and then things get progressively ambitious. The airport features planes taking off and landing. Austria has working cable cars. There is real water, with tides, in the North Sea. Antarctica obviously has penguins as well as a detailed model of the wreck of Shackleton’s ship, the Endurance. Elsewhere we could see scenes of Peru and the altiplano being created.

There are numerous scenarios being acted out. Some sort of criminal heist on a bridge. Several buildings on fire. Racing fire trucks. A car crash. A petrol station sign displaying, electronically, real fuel prices. Cars and trucks run on the roads. A model of the Monaca F1 racetrack features a live race. An enormous amount of electronics and computers must be used to control everything.

A sense of humour pervades all the model scenes. I did not expect this in Hamburg. Looking carefully, you can spot kangaroos in unlikely places. The odd dinosaur. Quite a lot of penguins. One of which was jumping in a bouncy castle. There is a crashed spaceship in the mountains and a motorised toilet in Monaco.

We spent about three hours there by which time it was starting to feel a bit stuffy and claustrophobic. Probably a wonderful place for spreading Covid. It was however interesting and quite rewarding – the more time you spent studying the detail, the more you could spot. In some ways Miniature Wunderland, is a testament to what happens if a gang of nerdy types have too much time on their hands. On the other hand, it a great demonstration of just how far you can go with a model train set.

Leaving Hamburg, we drove north to Denmark where we stumbled across sand sculptures in the town of Søndervig. Advertised as “more than just sandcastles”. This is an annual event where artists from around the world create elaborate sand art. I think they must then do something to stabilise the sand. When we arrived, it was drizzling but the sand was not being washed away. The theme for this year was the history of Greenland. The kingdom of Denmark includes Greenland – a fact which has received considerable attention lately since Trump suggested that the US could purchase it. I suspect Denmark is actively trying to draw attention to this.

We chose a beautiful scenic route up the west coast of Denmark. The rain and mist unfortunately made it look like just about everywhere else when it is raining and foggy. Arriving at Hirtshals, we took the ferry to Larvik. About three hours of sailing in the fog and rain. Eventually we arrived at our hotel close to the airport.

Next day we found Oslo airport to be remarkably busy. We arrived at lunchtime and there were long queues at the security check. An hour later, the security woman was complaining at me. We get told not to put electronics and batteries in hold luggage. It goes in the hand luggage and gets checked on a conveyor belt through an x-ray machine. My luggage typically contains a lot of camera gear. Usually this goes straight through the machine. At least nine out of ten trips. In Oslo, the very stern woman declared that it all needed to be unpacked and sent back through the machine separately. I was trying to hold my trousers up at the time because I had been instructed to remove my belt before walking though the machine with a green light. The woman complained that I was wasting her time by putting my belt on before emptying the case. I was not keen on dealing with a grumpy security person with my trousers half down. Thus, we arrived at the interesting situation where she was visibly annoyed with me for wasting her time while I was similarly annoyed at her for wasting my time. I have long since learned that expressing annoyance, or any emotion really, at border officials is to invite extra delays, searching and worse. My face was in the fixed, vacuous smile saved for such occasions. She complained that she had a protracted line of people to check. I thought that maybe if they did not insist on unpacking everything that it might go a bit quicker. And I maintained the smile. Eventually, once all my camera parts had been round at least twice, I got to repack the bag. This caused further annoyance because I needed to use the counter space that she might otherwise have employed for being grumpy at another passenger. Finally packed and ready to leave I was stopped by another border official who wanted to see my passport. It was the sole occupant of my breast pocket. I handed it over and he carefully checked to make sure I was not smuggling anything inside it. Even gave it a little shake. The smile almost slipped.

Four hours later we arrived at the very tiny airport in Longyearbyen, Svalbard. It was still a bit cloudy, so we saw little during the aircraft’s approach. Fortunately, it began to clear just as we landed and I could spot tantalising splashes of snow on the hillsides.

Grossglockner

Austria’s high alpine road, the Großglockner, was purpose built as a tourist attraction in the 1930s. At 2,500 m, it is the highest road in Austria and attracts over 350,000 vehicles each year. The biker hotel Birkenhof served us a great breakfast. They also sold us a discounted ticket for the Grossglockner, which is a toll road. The sun was out and a few clouds scudded around the alpine foothills. The weather was almost perfect. Warm without being hot. Dry and clear.

We were heading north. The road wound up a range of hills with tantalising views of the alps in the distance. Then we dropped down into the Drautal valley, a beautiful area of mountains, forests, waterfalls and rivers. Popular not only because of the road but also for skiing, biking, hiking and climbing. At Dölsach, we left the main valley and started following the Möll river north to the foot of the Grossglockner mountain. Here we could skip the queue at the toll booth with our pre-paid ticket and started the climb up to the Kaiser-Franz-Josefs-Höhe visitors’ centre at 2,369 m.

Apparently, Emperor Franz visited here in 1856 and quite liked the place. I could see why. The views are spectacular although the glacier has mostly melted now. An impressive collection of old cars was coming down the road. They all had badges indicating an organised rally. In fact, the whole place was busy with many drivers out enjoying the weather. After seeing an enthusiastic motorcyclist nearly make a spectacular mess of a corner, we resolutely decided to keep it slow and safe. There are a few places on this road where if you came off it would really spoil your day.

We hung around the observation platform for a while and spotted some marmots. A couple of real, live animals at the bottom of a wall and hundreds of stuffed toys in the enormous souvenir shop. There were many motorbikes parked up in a large parking area exclusively for bikes. The road is particularly popular with bikers. We reckoned we saw more big motorcycles in this one day than we saw in the whole of the rest of our trip.

Heading higher up we passed through a small tunnel which crosses the Alpine divide. On the north side of the Alps we followed a side road up to the Edelweißspitze viewpoint at 2,571 m. This involves a sequence of hairpins bends on a narrow, cobbled road. Care and balance required. With a fully loaded bike and a pillion this can be a bit tricky. We succeeded without embarrassing ourselves and parked up with the other bikes.

More beautiful views. Majestic mountains. Snow and glaciers fuelling the many torrents cascading down precipitous, craggy walls. Far in the distance is a glimpse into the lush valleys. A lovely little mountain hut, the Edelweißhutte, is here. They were doing a roaring trade serving bikers sat around in the sunshine. It was not just bikers up here. But it was mostly bikers. We discovered that you could stay overnight in the Edelweißhutte. An excellent adventure, at 2,571 m, for another time. We needed to press on.

Descending the cobbles was a little easier than getting up. Back on the road we began negotiating the seemingly endless sequence of hairpins that bring you down off the Hochtor pass. The air got warmer. Steep, rocky walls gave way to forested slopes. Amongst fields of cows, we passed the northern toll booth on our way to Bruck in the Salzach valley. We had been in this area last winter for some skiing. It looked hugely different now. The ski runs were green tongues lapping down the hillsides and the frozen lakes were blue and alive with birds. Late afternoon we bade goodbye to the Alps and crossed into a bit of Czechia that sort of protrudes into Austria.

Next day, we started the trek back to the UK. North through Czechia. Pilsen. Carlsbad. Then into Germany near Leipzig. From there, pretty much due west to Rotterdam and the ferry. Five days of steady riding. Each morning, we would breakfast, get our riding gear on, pack the bike and set off down the road. In the evening, we would arrive, relax for a while, have dinner and go to bed. After six weeks on the road, we had totally settled into the rhythm of it. The last few days were thoroughly enjoyable although there was nothing spectacular. We took very few photos. I often find that at the very end of a trip you start looking backwards more than forwards. Reflecting on everything that happened. 14,000 km. 12 countries. It had been a good one.

Lake Balaton

North from Novi Sad to Hungary. At the first border crossing we were denied. “This is a small border, for Europeans, you have to go to the big border”. Since we are no longer part of the EU we can only leave Serbia at major crossing points. Thank you Brexit. Leaving the pleasant, quiet country roads, we slogged up the motorway for over an hour. Spent the next hour baking in the sun while standing in line. Got into Hungary with no problems but then we were a long way off the planned route. The afternoon was four hours of motorway tedium.

We arrived by the eastern end of Lake Balaton hot, dusty, tired and in need of a drink. Lake Balaton is the largest freshwater lake in central Europe and an important tourist destination. In particular, Germans like to come here to do “wellness”. I have never completely fathomed what this is about. It involves, amongst other things, getting hot in a spa and wandering around in white bathrobes. We settled in a shady spot just outside to enjoy a glass of cold, white wine before we did anything else. Two elderly, somewhat overweight men, clad in just speedos, came and started playing table tennis right next to us. I could only guess what nationality they were. We moved round the corner.

Next day was a leisurely ride alongside the lake. Balaton is 170 km long so this is not a trivial ride but it was lovely to relax a bit after the full-on slog of the previous day. Another warm and sunny day gave the place a holiday feel. Cycling is exceedingly popular here. There are dedicated cycle trails right the way around the lake. We took it easy and stopped for several coffee breaks along the way. Our hotel at the far western end of the lake was another “wellness” establishment. It also described itself as “superior”. We have since decided to view the words “wellness” and “superior” a hotel description as a warning. There were indeed many superior people doing wellness – but this is no place for bikers.

Leaving the hordes of white towelling clad Germans in the morning we headed for Croatia. Easy, rolling countryside and slightly cooler weather made for a great ride. We only clipped the corner of Croatia before entering Slovenia. Another lovely country of picturesque rural landscapes and quaint villages. We passed north of the fabulously named capital city of Ljubljana. Not sure why but I really like this name. Was very pleased when I finally learned how to pronounce it. Our hotel was perfect. A stark contract to the night before. Unpretentious, small, friendly, cosy and familiar. A traditional wood and stone building with a sense of an old coaching Inn about it. We were served a basic meal of pasta. No overpriced sparkling water, no carefully ironed linen napkins and absolutely no genuflecting. What we did get was delicious food matched perfectly with a bottle of local wine. We could relax here comfortably without feeling we were being judged.

In the morning, we headed for the lovely town of Bled. A pretty place with views across Lake Bled and overlooked by Castle Bled. Unfortunately, it is a tourist magnet. Even this early in the season it was packed with coaches and gangs of tourist sheep being led around by their guides. We kept going. Not even stopping for a mouthful of cremeschnitte (custard slice) that the area is famous for. Past the lake and south into the mountains. Soon we were far from the madding crowds and winding our way up small, steep roads with glimpses of snow. By the evening, we had crossed two excellent mountain passes to arrive at the town of Tolmin. Here we lucked upon one of the best pizzas of the trip.

I had hoped we could ride the Transfăgărășan highway in Romania but we were thwarted. It does not open until July. No matter, we could at least do the Vršič Pass, also known as the Russian Road in Slovenia. The day dawned bright and clear. We got an early start but it was not to be. No idea why the road was closed. Checking the internet revealed nothing. But there it was. A great big red circle sign erected in the middle of the road. It was was definitely closed. We turned left and went to Italy. This proved to be quite fun. Another, less famous, pass but interesting none the less. Great views. From there we crossed into Austria and a terrific biker hotel in the foothills. Suddenly we were in a different sort of world. Everyone at this hotel was a biker. Everyone had an adventure bike. We were made to feel very welcome. Bikes all went in a secure shed. We sat outside with the others and talked about bike things while dining, Austrian style, on dumplings. Next day we would tackle Austria’s highest mountain pass – the Großglockner-Hochalpenstraße.

Danube

In the morning the cows came down to the lake. A lovely pastoral scene to contemplate over breakfast and the cows found it very refreshing. I did wonder a little about how suitable the lake was for the people swimming there the previous evening.

Back on the bike, we headed north-west towards a Greek national park. The sat nav took us on a wicked short cut through the town of Stavroupoli. It does this occasionally. Instead of the sensible route around a town, it will calculate a slightly faster route through some back roads. This particular one took us up a steep hill on pavement. Vehicles were allowed but it was very narrow. We needed to dodge people, children and dogs on the cobbled, twisty route while working quite hard just to keep the bike upright. We prevailed and emerged intact onto a lovely road that wound though the hills and forests to the city of Drama. From here we went north over some mountains towards the ski town of Volakas. Initially the route was very promising. We descended into a deep valley filled by a lake. After crossing the bridge, the road became substantially smaller and we needed to be careful of the rocks strewn across the tarmac. Eventually the road became a track and then a muddy path. We are not equipped for muddy paths. Especially in a remote area of a Greek national park with nobody around for miles. So, to avoid further drama, we headed back to Drama. Leaving Drama on the main road to Volakas, it began to rain. Heavy, cold, driving rain that covered the road in sheets of water. At least we were not on a muddy track in the mountains. We arrived at Volakas completely sodden and it continued to rain through much of the night.

The morning was bright and sunny. We had an exceptionally good breakfast and set off for Bulgaria. Now we are back in the EU the borders are a complete anti-climax. In fact, occasionally, you need to be on your toes to spot them at all. This border was marked by a “peace tunnel” that connected the two countries. We continued north and climbed into the next range of mountains. The rain caught us again and the temperature dropped. The road climbed higher and then there was snow. It did not actually snow on us but there was plenty of snow on the hills around us and, in places, on the road. All we could do was press on. Fortunately, the route began to descend and the rain eased. Eventually we arrived at the lovely Batak reservoir and parked up just as the sun came out. We had booked a particularly pleasant hotel. A good meal with lashings of Bulgarian wine made a great way to finish a hard and somewhat uncomfortable day.

Sofia next. A comfortable ride of just a few hours and then the usual fun coping with the city centre traffic. Trams and the rails they used added some further interest. Sofia is the capital of Bulgaria and home to a wealth of museums and churches. We stayed at a wonderful hotel right in the centre of the city. It was a little dated but for a very modest cost we had a massive room and got to park the bike safely inside their courtyard. In the evening, we looked at a few of the museums and churches from the outside and then found an excellent Indian restaurant for dinner.

Going north from Sofia brought us to Montana and a lovely lake. The next day was equally uneventful riding that brought us into Romania and the river Danube just north of Vidin. Late morning I got a message from the hotel we had booked to say that their restaurant was closed because it was a national holiday. We would have to sort our own dinner. Buying it was the first problem. National holiday. Everywhere was closed. Eventually, we chanced on a small village shop where we could buy a few basics. When we arrived at the hotel, we found the whole building was closed. No-one else there at all. The cooking facilities proved to be a single microwave oven. Not much use for the pasta and vegetables we had picked up. Outside was a firepit and this turned out to be our culinary saviour. With a plentiful supply of wood, we soon had a blazing fire on which to cook our food and to sit round while enjoying more Bulgarian wine. In the morning, I revived the fire. We breakfasted on toast with cheese, slightly smoked, and a large pot of coffee.

We rode along the banks of the Danube for the entire day. Past the spectacular Iron Gates. Despite the name, they are neither iron or gates but in fact a deep gorge forming the border between Romania and Serbia. The whole section is over 100 km long and, as we discovered, is quite popular with bikers. Eventually we arrived in Moldova – not the east European country, but a town in Romania. Here it was still a national holiday. Fortunately our host for the night, a remarkably friendly man called Fabio, ordered pizza and sat us down with some of his home-made wine.

Next morning we rode north across a small range of hills and crossed into Serbia. At the border, because we were leaving the EU again, we needed to present passports and vehicle documents. Otherwise, it was painless. We pressed on to Novi Sad. Here we stayed in a glorious old building. Some sort of castle converted into a hotel and perched high on a cliff overlooking the Danube and the town. In Serbia it was not a national holiday. We found a restaurant that was open just next to the hotel. Not only open but serving some terrific food involving roasted peppers, mushrooms, garlic and chilli. There was also wine of course and we got to watch the sunset over the Danube.

Black Sea

With two speeding tickets to my name, I needed to up my game if Turkey was not going to become very expensive. The obvious strategy would be to stay below the limit. However, as I had found out to my cost, it is not always easy to know what the limit is for bikes. My satnav was completely useless in this respect. Roads signs only gave limited information. Background reading was often contradictory. I read that the limit on motorways was 80 kph for bikes. With the rest of the traffic doing 130 kph this did not sound at all safe. All the speed radars that I had seen were forward facing. This is good news for bikes because they can’t capture your number plate. It only works when there is someone down the road, watching a live feed, that can flag you down. The set up for this was usually a small temporary warning sign on the hard shoulder. A couple of hundreds of metres later would be a parked police vehicle with the radar mounted on its roof and a similar distance further along the road would be coned down to one lane where the police were waiting. There were also radar and other sensors on gantries over the road. Most of these, at the entrance and exit to towns, were, I think, more to do with ANR. Keeping track of who goes where.

The road north to Hapa on the Black Sea was spectacular. It wound along a series of mountain passes and was virtually deserted. The sun was shining and the air was fresh. We had a relaxed night at a resort type hotel on the coast and then turned west. The coast road was very different but equally enjoyable. Mostly it was tight, twisty roads in and out of the small valleys running down to the sea. Occasionally we dropped into a town and here the road would be dual carriageway interrupted by multiple sets of traffic lights. There was usually a hard shoulder. Separated from the main carriageway by a solid white light. It found far more use that just being for breakdowns. It was also used for parking, for horse drawn vehicles, for filtering at lights (even for cars), for loading and unloading trucks and could also be used if you needed to drive against the main flow of traffic. Very useful.

After three days we turned inland to avoid Istanbul. Far too busy to be an enjoyable ride. We find big cities are better visited on foot. Instead, we headed towards the Dardanelles straits where we could cross to Gelibolu and mainland Europe. This area controls maritime access to the Black Sea and has been the scene of many conflicts over the ages. In WW1 over 300,000 soldiers were killed at Gallipoli in a failed invasion that lasted eight months and badly discredited Winston Churchill. The largest single span suspension bridge in the world is here. Built in 1915, the Çanakkale bridge has a central span of just over two kilometres. We chose the ferry but nearly changed our minds when we saw the queue. Sometimes, however, being on a bike is just wonderful. We were waved though. Past rows of trucks and scores of cars right up to the ship. Here we just had time to buy a ticket before being literally the last vehicle onboard.

A short ride took us the border with Greece. Here I had to pay my speeding fines. Just the two, I had successfully avoided any further trouble. No further checks, so long as the bill was paid I was free to go. So we arrived in Greece and lovely hotel in a quiet village just past Alexandroupoli.

Lake Van

Leaving Göreme we headed off into some lovely wide-open roads that curved up into the hills. Traffic was light. The air was cool. We lent into the curves and let the KTM enjoy a bit of space and freedom. Then, coming round a bend, the traffic police pulled me over and gave me a speeding fine. That smarted a bit. Suitably contrite, we resumed the road at a steadier pace. Then came a textbook example of the sympathetic use of nature. One that completed our transition from joyous freedom to serious intent. It started to rain. The rain got heavier so we took shelter at a petrol station. We didn’t need fuel. Just sat under cover drinking Turkish tea until things improved. Back on the road we got another couple of hours in before another squall hit. This time we did need petrol, so I dived into the next station. A pleasant young lad filled the bike and then invited us for tea while the rain passed. I went out to check the bike while it was parked under the station canopy. Always a good idea to periodically look over the tyres, chain and so on. While I was busy with this, the lad, barely in his mid-twenties, was declaring his love for Diane – via Google Translate. Seriously. She explained that she was nearly seventy to which he replied that she hid her age with her beauty. When the conversation turned to sex my princess decided it was time for a swift exit. Putting her helmet on as she came over to the bike, she explained that she had pulled but it was time to go.

Arriving at our hotel in Mus, which advertised private on-site parking, we were invited to park the bike right outside the hotel entrance. This involved a couple of steep ramps onto a polished marble floor. I was happy that I managed this without dropping the bike. Next day, we headed to Lake Van. This is enormous. We could not see across it. The weather improved enormously and we had a lovely drive along the south side of the lake to the city of Van. Parking arrangements here were similar to Mus. The bike ended up right outside the rotating door to the hotel. We went of to explore the city but did not get much further than a very nice bar where we enjoyed some wine. For dinner we visited a restaurant specialising in pide. A Turkish version of pizza (which came first?). Bread with melted cheese and mushrooms cooked in a wood fired oven. Served with salad and a tomato and garlic salsa.

In the morning, we went to see a sanctuary for Van cats run by the university. Van cats, originating from Lake Van in Turkey often have heterochromia (one eye of each colour) and are known as the swimming cats. They have been observed to swim in Lake Van. The ones we saw in a sanctuary had their own swimming pool but we did not see them swim – and we were not allowed to throw them in the water. They were extremely cute though and we paid extra to feed them. Leaving Lake Van we passed a big blue road sign that posted the speed limits for various vehicles. 110 kph for cars, lower speeds for different categories of truck. Ten minutes later I was pulled over for speeding again. Now I discovered that although it is not posted, anywhere, the speed limit for motorcycles, on the main roads, is 90 kph. I was flabbergasted. A key issue for motorcycling is being able to keep up with the flow of traffic. Forcing motorbikes to be slower than cars and most trucks is simply asking for trouble. And I had another speeding fine.

Pressing on, our route took us off the main road and up into the mountains. The rain arrived and then got heavier. The temperature dropped as we climbed. The road was terrific but we found it increasingly hard to enjoy as we got colder and wetter. By the top of the pass, 2,600 m, it was a mere 4°C. Leaving Van it had been a balmy 26°C. We looked and felt like a pair of drowned rats. My toes were numb. Diane was shivering. Only just higher than us was fresh snow across the mountain tops. Coming down was a dilemma. Crack on and suffer the wind chill or slow down and take longer. The route was spectacular but we were very pleased to reach our hotel in Erzurum. This is one of Turkey’s premier ski resorts. The receptionist told us there had been snow there in the morning.

The next day was one of those when I was really pleased that we were not on an organised trip. The weather forecast was awful. More rain and cold. The following day however was sunny and warm. So, we changed our plans, we stayed put. I did some more planning. We explored the city and caught up with the clothes washing. By the time we left, we were refreshed, relaxed and the weather was lovely. Aiming due north, we set off towards the Black Sea.

Cappadocia

Two days of steady riding bought us to Göreme in the region of Cappadocia. We had a night in a very local hotel on the way, where I am sure we were the only foreigners. Dinner and breakfast were served as a buffet in an enormous and mostly empty restaurant. The translation app on my phone saw heavy service as we attempted to identify the dishes. We mostly enjoyed the food. Diane was not impressed by raw chillis for breakfast, I thought they did a wonderful job of waking you up. Tea, Turkish tea, was ubiquitous. Often prepared in a heated urn with two taps. One for tea, one for hot water. We found we needed to dilute the tea considerably. Coffee was usually the instant, powdered stuff although occasionally we found genuine Turkish coffee. Made using very finely ground coffee beans so you get an espresso sized cup which is about 1/3 coffee sludge. Strong and bit gritty. I am developing a taste for it while my teeth are turning black.

The second day was wet. We arrived in Göreme in the rain. Fortunately, the hotel was lovely and, one of the benefits of visiting a tourist destination, is that we found an Indian restaurant. In stark contrast the last few days, this place was crawling with foreigners. Göreme sits at the heart of a network of valleys filled with astonishing rock formations. Fairy towers are pillars of rock that pop up everywhere. Many of these have been hollowed out inside. Once, they were hiding places for Christians escaping the Romans. Today, many of them have become boutique hotels. Göreme was little visited by tourists until the 1970s but by 2000 had become the tourist capital of Cappadocia. Tourism brought wealth and a better standard of living to the village. It also changed the local agricultural life completely. The town is now packed with shops offering balloon trips, local tours, souvenirs, ATV trips, pony treks, camel rides and photo shooting opportunities. Here you can hire a voluminous red silk dress, an open top American car and a photographer so that, early in the morning, you can pose in front of the balloons. This mostly appeals to young Asian women but I guess it would be open for anyone.

The hot air balloons. I had seen photographs of balloons at Göreme and assumed that the image was from an annual festival. No. Every single morning, weather permitting, over a hundred brightly coloured balloons take to the sky. Hot air ballooning in Cappadocia started in 1991 with a competition of professional hot air ballooners from all over the world. Since then it has blossomed. 25 balloon companies, 250 balloons and up to 165 balloons launched each morning. Cappadocia is considered one of the best places in the world for ballooning. The weather is generally well suited and the area has a unique scenery of magnificent volcanic mountains, natural fairy chimneys, oddly shaped valleys, pigeon houses and stone carved churches. It was going to mean an early start but we steeled ourselves to it and signed up.

4am in the morning we were sat outside waiting for our ride. It was dark and quite chilly. Once in the minibus we were served breakfast – small carton of juice and biscuit bar. Other people were collected and eventually we bounced off along some dirt tracks. Over an hour later we were on an area of green fields above the valleys. Balloons were everywhere. We arrived as ours was in the final stages of being inflated. Hot air comes from a powerful LPG burner mounted about the basket. Strong fans were also being used to drive air into the envelope. Around us, in the first light of dawn, we could see many other balloons inflating on the ground or already taking to the sky.

The basket was divided into eight compartments each holding four people. You jammed yourself in here quite snugly. Seemed like quite a good arrangement. Everyone could see in most directions and it was secure and comfortable. Then we just wafted into the sky. Just like that. No drama or noise, apart from the burner. In just a few minutes we felt part of the great wave of balloons drifting up in the ever-brightening sky. There is no wind when you are in a balloon. Because you drift with the air currents, at the same speed, there is no relative wind at all. Very comfortable and relaxed. Initially we gained height. The world was reduced to little ants running around. It felt very safe. The walls of the basket come up to chest level so there is no chance of falling out. In fact, as we found out later, getting out can be a bit of a challenge.

Then we descended. A wide valley full of fairy chimneys runs north from Göreme and many of the balloons drop right down into this. Crowds had gathered at the overlooking escarpment. We passed within a few metres of them as dropped into the valley. We skirted over bushes and almost touched the ground before climbing again at the far side. I noticed that balloons never collided and never seemed to get caught up on the fairy chimneys. I am guessing that something about the way air currents work helps with this. You cannot steer a balloon, just go up or down to find different airstreams. There seems to be quite a lot of skill involved and our pilot was doing just fine.

Past the valley we crossed into a more level area and then landed, very neatly and gently, in a field. The ground crew of four appeared with their Landrover and trailer within minutes. First job was to inflate the balloon just slightly so that the basket could be manhandled onto the trailer. Then then trailer, complete with basket and passengers was moved to a suitable location for deflating the balloon. Finally, with the balloon now laying across the ground, we were allowed to clamber out of the basket. We were given a glass of champagne, which was not champagne. We listened to a short speech that could have been précised as “please give us a tip”. The minibus took us back to the hotel where we enjoyed a buffet breakfast on the rooftop terrace. Then we went back to bed.

Early next morning we got a view from the hotel of the day’s balloons. Then we went on a day trip. Sometimes these are good but not necessarily. The main advantage for us is that we get round a bunch of interesting places without having to first find them out for ourselves. So, laziness really. First stop was an overlook of pigeon valley. Many small caves carved into the rock formations with the purpose of attracting pigeons. Pigeon guano was used as fertiliser. I imagine the odd bird found its way into a stew pot. The sight was embellished with the usual ways of getting money from tourists. Camel rides, small ponies, souvenir shops and so on. On to the jewellery making shop which was just an excuse to try and sell us jewellery. Fortunately, I am immune and was able to keep a close eye on Diane. Next stop was some carved caves that had been used as a cathedral. Extensive and quite magnificent. The soft stone, actually a compressed volcanic ash, lends itself to digging and carving but also erodes quickly. Preserving these sites can be quite difficult. Then came a walk down a canyon. This was very enjoyable and it made a pleasant change not to be just standing around.

Penultimate stop was an underground city. There are several of these in Cappadocia. They were started two thousand years ago for Christians to hide in and have been used and expanded ever since. Came in very handy when the Mongol hoards crossed from the steppes and many other times as well. Calling the place a city is possibly a bit of an exaggeration. The tunnels are extensive. Apparently 5,000 people could hide in here. They are all quite small and it seemed quite stuffy with just a hundred or so tourists in there. None the less, very impressive and interesting. Final stop was a sweet making shop where they were simply selling sweets and dishing out free samples. That was us done with Göreme. Next day we would go in search of swimming cats.

Ayvalik

The crossing to Türkiye was windy and choppy. It was only a small ferry and our poor bike, strapped onto the rear deck, got thoroughly drenched with sea water. Fortunately, the trip was only 90 minutes. We rode the bike off, parked by a locked gate and were directed into building to get our documentation checked. Everything went fine until the very last moment. I thought I had checked our vehicle insurance for Türkiye but in fact I had only checked the breakdown insurance. We had no insurance and the authorities were not going to let us take the bike until we could prove otherwise. Now usually, on this sort of border, getting vehicle insurance is not a problem. Often there are several insurance offices lined up by the border just desperate to sell you something. On this occasion we had arrived by a rather obscure route, just a handful of vehicles each week and to exacerbate the issue it was labour day, May 1^st, a public holiday.

We walked over to the ferry office and attempted to sort something out. They were very helpful and soon had someone on the phone for us. He explained that it was not possible to buy insurance in Türkiye for a foreign vehicle and that I needed to contact my insurers in the UK. There then followed a surreal conversation with Carol Nash, who insure my bike. First of all, they understood that I was trying to insure an additional bike called a Türkiye . This got escalated to a supervisor who realised that Türkiye was a country but explained that I was covered for the whole of Europe. Up to the next supervisor who recoiled in horror over the notion that I wanted to ride my bike outside of Europe. Why would you do that? Finally, after a long time on hold, I was told that it was quite impossible. Half an hour later, while I was busy trawling the internet for something useful, the ferry office man came back with another phone call. This one worked. Several email exchanges and a trip to an ATM later and we had the necessary document. Eventually collected the bike late afternoon but whatever, we were in, all sorted and legal. We stayed at a local hotel and then picked up the planned trip a day later.

First stop was Kuşadası, a delightful small town packed with tourist shops. We aimed to get there on the main road but got turned around by the police. Some incident had blocked the road. We took to smaller roads and picked a route out through some hills to the north. The proved to be a pleasant ride and probably much more fun. We took an extra day at Kuşadası so that we could visit the Ephesus Archaeological Site. This is the massive, excavated remains of a of a temple, theatre and library in an ancient city taken over by Romans in 129 BC. Although clearly battered by 2,000 years of neglect this place is still impressive. In particular, you can get a sense of what life might have been like for the Romans. The rich Romans obviously. The slaves and servants probably had a horrible time of it. The weather was boiling hot and the crowds fearsome but we eventually managed to get round the whole site and even read some of the noticeboards. If you are into Roman ruins then this place should be on your list. The entrance area to the site is a covered roadway lined by tourist shops. Any kind of replica watch, jewellery, handbag or other accessory at a bargain price.

Back at our hotel the very nice owner invited us to a family barbeque in the evening. I am not at all keen on either meat and children but fortunately Diane is much more polite that me and she stepped in to explain that we were vegetarian. The owner replied that surely her husband was not one. He did not look like a vegetarian. What does that mean? I think he is saying I am fat. And they would be serving salad. Oh joy, the stench of burning meat, the screams of crying children and a bit of lettuce leaf. I attempted to maintain a fixed smile on my face. One that had nothing to do with what was going on inside my head. I nodded in what I hoped was a polite way and we left.

Next day we continued along the coast road as best we could. In places there was not a road near the sea. Even so we managed enough road with bright blue ocean immediately to our right to keep Diane happy. The riding was great. Perfect weather. Sunny but not too hot. Quiet roads that twisted and looped through hidden coves and over small hills. The Rhapsody hotel at Kalkan was all but deserted. It is still early in the season. We’d had a long day. We were quite happy to eat by the pool as the sun set. Then Gillian and Reynaldo turned up. A lovely couple that had a holiday home nearby. We had a pleasant chat with them and picked up some nuggets of interesting local knowledge.

More coastal roads brought us to Antalya, popular amongst British tourists. We kept moving and ended up at a serious holiday hotel an hour or so later. This was an all-inclusive establishment in a gated compound with its own restricted beach area. I’d chosen it as being good value for money. Which it was. Drinks and half board for around £80. On arrival we were tagged with wristbands. The room was lovely. Overlooking swimming pools and the beach. Food was served buffet style with an excellent range of food to choose from. Wine was either red or white and the cocktails were rubbish. Overall, the stay was good fun although we did feel a bit out of place.

In the morning, we had a sobering start when, not five minutes after leaving the hotel, we came across two bodies. They were clearly very dead and had been laid out by the roadside. Not covered. Looked to be a couple in their early twenties. No helmets, dressed for the beach. The police were in attendance and thirty metres down the road was a flipped over ATV. A few other vehicles were parked up and a small crowd was standing well back. We did not see what happened but I am sure the gist of it would include inexperience, exuberant driving and excessive speed. Very sad. We have seen a lot of people on rented ATVs since then and I can’t help thinking how dangerous they are without a bit of training.

Our costal odyssey continued in much the same way as the previous days. The roads became quieter and we eventually arrived at the Kupala beach hotel. Tiny little village at the end of a beach where we were absolutely the only people staying at the hotel. There is something strange and a little disconcerting about staying in an otherwise empty hotel. It was being run by three blokes – none of whom seemed the hotel manager type. We sorted out the check-in and even organised food but they discussed everything amongst themselves, apparently in great detail. Like they were not sure what they were supposed to be doing. I am sure there is a story here. Definitely something a little bit weird. Nothing bad happened. We ate well. No idea where the food came from but it arrived in bags brought by runners. We turned in early ready to leave the coast and start inland.

Lesbos

As we drove off the ferry in Lesbos, I noticed the rear tyre was low. We stopped at the first safe place. This happened to still be inside the port complex and we were accosted by a very ordinary couple wielding ID cards and claiming to be customs officials. So, instead of sorting out the tyre, the first thing we had to do was produce documents and answer some odd questions. They did not like that the V5 is not proof of ownership. Finally, they told us very sternly that we could only keep the bike in Greece for six months. I tried to reply, equally firmly, that we were leaving in two days. Back to the bike. I put some air in the tyre and we wandered into town to find someone to fix it. I do carry everything I need to sort out a nail in the tyre like this, but I have never actually done it. We stumbled across a moto shop after just a few minutes and they very obligingly sorted the tyre with a plug in ever fewer minutes. How long does a plug last? It may be that I will be able to tell you shortly.

Leaving the main road, we struck for the east coast and a delightful short ride to Mythymna and the Seahorse Hotel right in the top right-hand corner of Lesbos. Scenic, winding road with almost no traffic. Hard to beat. The tyre was still full of air when we arrived. I found this very pleasing. I also found the hotel very pleasing. Nice comfy room with balcony. Very friendly host. Restaurant tables on the quayside. Mostly this was lovely, but occasionally you needed to move your table to let a car past. We dumped the heavy bike gear in our room. It is essential for protection but is horribly sweaty and cumbersome at times. Feeling much lighter, we skipped off up the hill to a castle overlooking the town. It was closed. We contented ourselves with walking right the way around it and then drank wine while overlooking the bay.

We elected to stay at the Seahorse another night. This gave us a day to explore the island. We had great fun but forgot the camera so there are no pictures. Imagine quiet, bendy roads. The odd sleepy village where the dogs come out to bark at you. Hills, olive groves, donkeys and goats. We drove to the southern shore. Admired the sea views. Had a coffee and came back over the biggest mountain on the island. Along the way we found ourselves on a dirt track. Not ideal with road tyres but fortunately it was dry and not too rough. My very mediocre off-road skills sufficed, the plug stayed in the tyre and we found a lovely place for coffee not long after regaining the asphalt. In the evening, we had great food and cheap red local wine at our quayside table. Days like this are good.

Next day was also good. We made our way back to Mitilini in preparation for the morning ferry next day. Spent a while wandering around the town and worked out exactly where to go for the ferry. It is not that simple. You need to park by a gate, walk round the other side of the building, do document checks, get your tickets, walk into a yard where, on presenting your tickets, they will open the gate and allow you to drive to the ship. This was all explained to us by a very friendly official and saved a lot of wandering around the next morning. We ended the day in a lovely restaurant. Very basic and only two dishes on the menu. I went over the road to get glasses of wine. Great food and then we got to the paying bit. The restaurant is run to support a charily for refugees. You pay as much as you feel the meal was worth. Lovely idea we thought. And the restaurant seemed to be very popular.

Next day we knew what to do. The other, less well rehearsed, motorcyclists were milling around uncertainly by the locked gate. They followed us as we marched off confidently with our documents. Not long after that we were installed on the little ferry all ready for the short crossing to Turkey.

Athens

Usually on a ferry, you are woken by a rude tannoy announcement to the effect of “get up and go have breakfast”. The first we heard on the Grimaldi ferry to Igoumenitsa was an announcement telling us to vacate the cabin in ten minutes. Sure enough, ten minutes later came a knock on the door. Fortunately, we had risen earlier and were ready for it. Even so we left the ferry without breakfast or even a coffee. It was Easter Monday. I was a bit concerned that we might struggle to find a place for an early morning break. Not a problem. There were many. So less than half an hour after disembarking we were sitting in a lovely café with sea views, coffee and wonderful slice of filo pastry with spinach. Most excellent breakfast.

We were heading for Patra. There is a motorway and there is the coast road. We chose to follow the coast. It was lovely. Quiet winding roads, sea views and plenty of coffee stops. We needed them. It had been a bit of short night’s sleep on the ferry. The weather was perfect. Warm and sunny. So, we took our time, had plenty of breaks and eventually arrived at Patra in the late afternoon. Our hotel had a rooftop bar which was just wonderful. We sat up there ordering some great food, drinking wine and watching the sunset. First day in Greece was good.

Next day was the run into Athens. Not really any alternatives to the motorway for this but should only have taken a couple of hours. Actually, took over five hours. The traffic was terrible. Long, long sections where we were filtering though nearly stationary vehicles. The trip in a car would probably have taken twice as long. Driving in Athens is a bit up close and personal but after Peru, where driving is a contact sport, this did not seem too bad. Drivers are generally quite courteous and aware when it comes to motorbikes. There are a lot of motorbikes and bigger scooters in Athens. Very few cyclists and a fair number of small scooters.

We took a city tour and started off by watching the changing of the guard outside the Parliament building. Imagine two blokes, big lads, each wearing a short skirt, white woollen tights, a tassel at each knee and shoes with large a pom-pom. They move using exaggerated arm and leg movements that could have come directly from the Ministry of Silly Walks. You might be tempted to titter but these guys are deadly serious. They are members of a special unit of the Hellenic Army known as the Evzones and could kill you with their little finger. Take a good look at their steely expressions and intense stares. These are not people to be messed with. You need to pass a rigorous selection process and difficult training to be part of this elite unit.

We moved on to check out the Olympic Stadium, home of the first modern Olympic Games. Then it was up to the Acropolis also known as the Sacred Rock. This is the location of several temples including the magnificent Parthenon. The weather was warm and sunny, in complete defiance of the forecast. We enjoyed pottering around and taking in the views across the city. Then we dropped down into an area called Plaka. This is an interesting jumble of small houses, narrow cobblestone streets, stores selling all imaginable types of souvenirs and tavernas hustling for business. We ended the day with a glass of wine at a rooftop bar with view across the rooftops to the Acropolis.

Next day we went on a trip with motorbike and sidecar. Done this in a few cities now and it is a great way to get around. Our driver, Dimitris, was clearly skilled and familiar with Athenian traffic. Many areas inaccessible to cars are open to motorbikes. We took on cobbled streets, pedestrian areas and the steep road up to Mount Lycabettus. This is the highest hill in Athens and affords some terrific views. Coming back down we passed through Kolonaki, the area where the rich people live. It oozes wealth. Flashy cars, grandiose houses and perfectly kept gardens.

Our original plan for Greece involved some island hopping which would eventually land us in Turkey. This proved to be remarkably difficult. There are plenty of islands and even more ferries but not so many that we could take the motorbike on. Actually getting to Turkey this way was very limited. Our best bet was to get an overnight ferry to Lesbos and from there it was just a short hop to Ayvalik in Turkey. Mt first attempt to book this ended up me in a shared cabin and Diane with a chair on deck. Princess was not happy about this. We eventually got sorted with a cabin to ourselves and then got told that the ferry to Turkey could not take the bike. This took a lot of persistence to resolve. I think it might have been easier to go to the ferry company directly rather than using FerryHoppers. Their website was pretty good but seemed to fail at the final delivery.

We had a ferry booked in the evening from Pieraus, the port area just outside Athens. So we rode south for a while to see the Temple of Poseidon. This is perched prominently on top of the cliffs at Cape Sounion. The temple is quite impressive and we paid €20 each for the short walk up the hill. Photos done we grabbed a coffee and then headed for the port. It took up two laps around the port area until we eventually went down a road marked “trucks only” and found our ship. By six we were comfortably installed in our cabin. The ship sailed at 8pm while we sat out on deck and watched Athens recede into the distance. I usually sleep quiet well on ships. A long time ago I used to work on smaller survey vessels and I find the rocking motion really quite soothing. So, I was a bit perplexed next morning, after a great night’s sleep, to find Diane scowling at me. Apparently, there was a bit of a storm in the night and she hardly slept a wink. According to princess logic this was now my fault. I pacified her, a little, with coffee and a croissant before we disembarked onto the island of Lesbos.

Italy

After a night and a day on the ferry we arrived at Civitavecchia in Italy. It was generally a pleasant crossing despite the best efforts of the disaffected youths running along the corridors in the early hours. Disembarking was the usual semi-organised chaos with every single vehicle trying to be first off the ship. Handling a big bike with a pillion can be a bit worrying on a ship. The painted decks often have patches of water and oil that makes the surface very slippery. With care, we managed to avoid dropping the bike or getting hit by an enthusiastic driver. From the port it was just a short hop up the road to our B&B for the night. I copied the geodetic coordinates from the booking.com app into the Garmin satnav on the bike. This usually works well and gives us an accurate destination without having to worry about the vagaries of postcodes and addresses. In this instance it took us to completely the wrong house. The man looked puzzled when Diane asked if we could stay there the night. After a bit of handwaving in lieu of understanding each other’s language, he leapt into his van and told us to follow. A mile or so down the road we arrived at the correct house. Some people are remarkably kind and helpful at times. Thank you Italian man. We never even got his name.

Next day saw us heading almost directly east an up into the mountains. We arrived, accurately this time, at a tiny B&B in a lovely old house close to L’Aquila. Evening meals are sometimes a bit of a problem. If there is no restaurant close to where we are staying then we often end up nipping out on the bike to buy bread and cheese for dinner. This time, for the first time in several days, there was a wonderful pizza restaurant some 20 minutes walk down the road. Admittedly, pizza is just bread and cheese in another form but this one was hot and very tasty.

In the morning, we headed further into the mountains and discovered snow. Quite a lot of snow. This was fun for a while until we also discovered that our road was closed. It was cold as well, just 5°C and the wind was carrying a light drizzle. On an organised motorbike tour the general rule is to fill up with fuel just before you arrive at the hotel for the night. This way, you have a full tank for the next days ride. We had neglected this and now had the prospect of wandering around the mountains trying to find a way east with only enough petrol for a limited distance. Diane had a small sense of humour failure while I attempted to work out an alternative route. Fortunately, we dropped down into the next valley system and found a small, self-service pump along with a local cheese shop where we could warm up with coffee and a sandwich. We also bought some cheese and then carried on down to the coast where it was warm and sunny again. Our accommodation for the night was a delightful wooden house overlooking the bay. The access track was badly washed out and required a few off-road skills. It all worked out and we enjoyed dinner, bread, cheese and wine, outside watching the sunset.

We followed the coast road out to Vieste. It was a delight. Perfect sunny weather and great ocean views. The road was tight and twisty. A fun challenge that left my shoulders aching. Our room in the Bikini Hotel had an interesting view. No bikinis but there was a spectacular chalk stack jutting out of the sea in front of bright white cliffs. In the evening, we wandered around the old part of town before finding a comfortable restaurant with outdoor seating. Shortly after sitting down an Easter procession came along the road. Many religious types dressed in white robes carrying a cross, a dead Jesus and a Mary. The centred around a man with a loudspeaker on a pole chanting “Ave Maria”. Later, we could hear them all singing in the church.

The road along the south side of the peninsular was equally challenging with the added interest of Easter Saturday traffic. This included a lot of motorbikes some of which were being thrown around the road in quite alarming ways. Back on the main road, we continued south down the coast to Brindisi. Our accommodation was on the far side of the bay from the old town. We walked all the way round and found a remarkably busy restaurant scene packed with Saturday night diners. On the third attempt and after waiting 20 minutes, we got a table with an excellent meal and some particularly good local wine. Puglia is famous for wines.

Next day, we discovered that we could have taken a small ferry across the bay instead of walking all the way round. We were getting a ferry to Greece in the evening so at lunchtime we wandered down to the quayside. Easter Sunday. Not a good day for touristing in Italy because everything is closed. Including the little ferry. In fact, the only place we found open was the coffee shop attached to a filling station. We lingered there for a while drinking coffee and wondering where everyone else had gone. The whole town seemed deserted.

We went down to the ferry terminal early and drank more coffee. Boarding began at 9pm. Not long afterwards we had found our cabin and were sat on deck with a bottle of wine. The ship was docked directly across from the end of the airport runway. In the dark, it was an impressive display of lights. We enjoyed the spectacle of aircraft taking off and landing right in the dark for a while before heading to bed. The ship would dock in Greece at 7:30am but it would feel like an hour earlier because of a time zone change.

Spain

Arriving back in the UK can feel a bit like wading into a swamp. It is wet and cold and difficult to get things done. At every turn you seem to sink a little further in. Working through bureaucracy and chores is tedious and boring. On the first day back, the engine light in our beautiful Range Rover came on. This turned out to be a serious engine problem, the timing chain was stretched. The engine was removed and some substantial fettling took place. Not only were the timing chain and guides replaced but also three injectors and most of the valves. A trapped cooling hose was replaced and several other faults rectified. Finding a garage up to the job and booking the car in took a couple of weeks. The actual repair work took another three. So, for most of our time back in the UK we were driving a hire car. The Landrover garage, A1 Landrovers in Bury, did a particularly good job and the car is driving beautifully now.

For our next trip we are planning to ride to Turkey on our bike. First it needed a full service. This should have taken a day. It also needed a new rear tyre, chain and sprockets. Two or even three days even if they needed to wait for parts. I have used Craig’s Motorcycles in Dewsbury before but probably will not again. It took them over three weeks. What was worse, in my mind, was that they started making up stories about the delays. It does not take a week to get a replacement hose clip. I would have been happier if they had at least been honest with me. Eventually, I had to drive over there and have, what would be described in diplomatic circles as a frank discussion. The bike appeared a few days later. This messed with our schedule. You cannot just jump onto a fully loaded bike with pillion and set off down the road. I had not ridden for over nine months and needed a bit of time to practise and get familiar with the bike again.

Meanwhile we had the usual round of doctors, dentists, opticians and so on. I saw a consultant dermatologist about the rash on my legs. We now have a diagnosis and some cream that appears to be keeping it under control. This is a great result. I also saw a physiotherapist about my neck which had been stiff and sore for several months. Several rather bruising sessions later it is feeling much better and, if I keep doing the exercises, will improve over time. Diane got some new spectacles which she doesn’t like and also arranged some major teeth work for later in the year.

We mostly stayed with my baby sister, Helen, in Todmorden. Her husband, David, is in the latter stages of MND. A particularly cruel degenerative condition that means he has been unable to move at all for a couple of years now. Obviously, the whole household is organised around David’s needs so living there can be a bit fraught. There is a constant progression of carers, other medical professionals, friends and family. We tried to help out where we could but occasionally needed to have a night away on our own.

We keep our belongings in a storage unit. To be honest there is not much. Some kitchen gear, skiing gear, motorcycle gear, two portable fridges and a few cloths. All stacked in boxes apart from the fridges. We would like to get rid of these but, so far, have been unable to sell them. Every time we come back, we end up spending hours organising the stuff in the storage unit. Similarly, whenever we leave we need to pack for the trip and pack everything else into the unit. Occasionally feels like we spend a lot of time packing and unpacking.

There was a mini heatwave. An unprecedented three days of sunshine in Todmorden. We had been doing our best to get organised and, at last, were about ready to drag ourselves out of the swamp. Everything packed we said our goodbyes and set off. Still feeling a bit wobbly on the bike. We took our time and visited a couple of friends as we headed south. Our overall plan is to visit Turkey. To avoid central Europe, which is cold at the moment, we are going to sail to Spain and then catch several ferries across the mediterranean. First step was the Plymouth-Bilbao ferry. Or at least we thought it was. Arriving in Plymouth we discovered a suspiciously deserted dockyard. Closer inspection of the tickets revealed that we should really be in Portsmouth. This was a bit awkward. Best option was to ride to Portsmouth. There might be enough time.

Three and a half hours of flat-out riding. We did not break any rules but I did use everything I had ever learnt about making progress. There were some excellent overtakes, brilliant use of lanes and even some filtering. The single fuel stop was a well-executed splash and dash. Diane was paying for the fuel as I replaced the filler nozzle. Working against us was the time of day. Many people coming home from work. Also, roadworks. There seemed to be temporary traffic lights everywhere. Finally, the motorway to Portsmouth was solid roadworks with speed limits as low as 40mph even on a three-lane carriageway. We were fifteen minutes late. I felt it was a heroic effort. We had been fast while staying safe and were ultimately thwarted by traffic and road repairs.

An hour later, we had booked the next ferry, found accommodation and were sat in a pub with food and drink. Next day we explored Portsmouth. We walked along the sea front. Walked out onto the south pier. Walked back and collected the bike. We could only park it at the hotel until 3pm so we headed round to the dock. Then we waited half an hour for check-in to open and hoped we could get on the ship early. No chance. Once checked in we had to wait three hours for security to open. Then a bit longer to start boarding. We finally got to our small cabin about 9pm, not long before the ferry was scheduled to sail.

The crossing was uneventful. Two nights on board and docking at 7am. We were happy that we had made it to Spain but we were a day late. Instead of three leisurely days through the foothills of the Pyrenees to Barcelona we had just two days to make the next ferry. In the event, this proved to be not much of a problem. We skipped the mountain roads I had planned and used more motorways. These are not like the baren, boring three-lane motorways in the UK where the most interesting part is watching BMWs undertaking the lane hogs in the fast lane. Instead, we had wide open smooth tarmac sweeping through the mountains with barely another vehicle in sight. The morning was cold and wet. Another reason to be happy about avoiding the high mountain roads where snow might still be possible. In the afternoon the sky cleared and the sun came out.

Half way stop was near Jaca in a lovely little village where all the restaurants were closed. We sat outside and ate bread with cheese and some local wine. Still one of my favourite meals. Next day was an easy ride to Barcelona. Again, we arrived a bit early for the ferry but this time was a very different story. It was only a short time before we were allowed onboard. We were settled into our much larger cabin and had eaten dinner even before the ship had sailed. . Next stop, Italy.

Supay Cano

Guess what time we got up in the morning? Unfortunately, despite the ridiculously early start, we did not see so much on this particular morning. The one exception was a small flock of night hawks. Half a dozen of these pretty birds were sitting on a branch. Until we arrived, then they flew off.

Back on the ship I wandered round taking a few pictures of the interior. The air-conditioned cabin was our haven. Spacious and cool with a terrific picture window. After each excursion we would arrive back at the room hot and sweaty. After a shower and, occasionally, a nap, we would be cool and clean and ready for the next episode. The ship was built locally and, for the most part, used local materials. The whole of the inside of the boat is done in some lovely wood. Not sure quite what type of timber but presumably a tropical hardwood. Looked terrific and gave the décor a great feel. The bar was on the open top deck. From here we could watch the river roll past while sipping Pisco Sour cocktails. On the same deck was a lecture room where we had talks about the Amazon and the occasional film. On the deck below was the restaurant. Food was very good on this trip and we felt the chef had really tried hard to provide for vegetarians.

In the afternoon we visited a village. Here they demonstrated making straw goods. We were shown how they prepared the fibres and coloured them with various natural dyes. We also had a bit of a cooking demonstration. Mostly they eat fish from the river. Different sorts of fish are cooked in different ways all of which smell awful to me. Deep fried yuca with a yellow tomato sauce was very nice though. Yellow tomato is not, as it sounds, a tomato that happens to be yellow. It is a whole separate species that looks a little like a yellow version of the familiar red fruit but tastes very different. Sharp, intense and flavoursome. Just chop finely into a bowl to make and instant tasty dip. Later, the ship moved closer to Iquitos. Here we spent the night ready for a quick getaway in the morning.

Next morning there was time for breakfast before we disembarked and headed for the airport. On the way we visited an animal sanctuary. There were some interesting beasts here that we had not seen in the wild. First up were the Paiche. Gigantic fish, up to 3 m long, that swim around in the Amazon. These were almost certainly around in many of the places we visited but were lurking, hidden in the murky waters. Here they were in an enormous, glass walled tank where we could see them very clearly. Paiche are vulnerable to overfishing and a 2014 study found that the fish were depleted or overexploited at 93% of the sites examined. Despite these issues, Paiche had still been served several times on our ship.

The sanctuary served as a general home for unwanted or rescued creatures. There were many sorts of parrot, a sloth, turtles and caimans. I had to look this up, but the plural of caiman is caimans and not caimen. This seems a shame. Several big tanks held young manatees. These lovely “sea cows” are peaceful herbivores that graze the river vegetation. They are another endangered species and again their primary threats are from humans. Often, they are hunted and a large number of manatees get injured or killed from boat strikes. Habitat loss is another problem.

Sanctuary done we went to see a stingless bee project. Bees without stings seem like a good idea to me. They can also be used to provide essential vitamins and minerals for local children.

Amazon done. From Iquitos we back to Lima for the sixth and final time. Night in the airport hotel. Not especially great but eminently practical. Next morning we flew to Bogota. This was not because we especially wanted to visit Bogota but more to split up the trip back. I worked out that Bogota to Madrid was about the shortest cross Atlantic flight. Bogota turned out to be a perfectly nice city with an awful lot of graffiti. The weather was warm and the people friendly. We wandered around on a couple of days and took a cable car to where we could overlook the whole city. All eight million people. Bogota is one of the world’s largest cities. Remarkable to see so many people in one place.

Next stop was Madrid. A lovely city that I visited 30 years ago. We only had a couple of days here but it was nice to explore the old city and experience a little of the night life.

Then we flew to Paris. This is city is quite familiar to us. Bit manic but great fun. We checked out the restoration work at Notre-Dame on the way to a candlelit piano recital at St. Ephrem Church. Next afternoon we had booked a guided wine tasting. Sadly, this did not work out so we simply went out and tasted a few wines by ourselves.

Final leg back to the UK was the Eurostar train to London St. Pancras. This was quite a pleasant way to travel and a lot less hassle than flying. Quite expensive though. In London we only just made our connection to intercity train north. Back in the day they would have served wine and snacks but this time a cup of coffee was as far as it went. We detrained at Mirfield for the very last train leg back to Todmorden. The platform signage was all messed up and we ended up waiting over an hour for our connection on the small, deserted platform. It was dark and cold. Rain was in the air. Welcome back to the UK.

Pacaya River

It was becoming a conditioned reflex. 6am alarm, crawl out of bed, contact lenses, clothes, camera, Diane, hat, sit in boat. Sometime later my brain would catch up and, with a jolt, I would be awake on a small boat in the headwaters of the Amazon. The early morning cacophony was often amazing. The sounds of birds and animals calling, invisibly, from deep in the forest. Occasionally, there were strange noises that I had no idea at all what sort of a creature it might have come from. The drone of the boat engine was an almost comfortably familiar background.

We were traveling up the Pacaya River deep inside the Pacaya Natural Reserve. There are several areas of reserves at the top of the Amazon basin. Their purpose is to protect the natural flora and fauna. Access is restricted, as is hunting and fishing. An education program has been established to help the locals understand why this is necessary. For generations they have hunted in this or that area. Now, at the behest of anonymous officials, they are no longer allowed. You can imagine, this is going to take a lot of explaining. Here we have a group of people that have lived in harmony with their environment for thousands of years. They have done nothing to cause the world’s great problems of climate change and pollution. Nonetheless, those who have caused the problem now require the locals to change their lifestyle. It is not quite this simple, but you get the idea. It is a problem repeated in many places worldwide.

Snapping out of my reverie, I spotted some terns on a sloping log. They were evenly spaced and mostly looking the same way. A very pleasing arrangement. It appealed to my sense of how things should be. There were also a few vultures and cormorants but they were just randomly hanging around looking untidy. Although nominally following the river, we cut across two large lakes. These were not obviously lakes because they were covered with a thick layer of vegetation. A great mass of leaves and flowers. The skiff slipped through this quite easily and we could follow various open water channels. On a lone tree I spotted an owl. It watched us, without comment, as we passed.

There were many egrets here. We had seen a few on previous days but the lakeside was obviously their place. Hundreds of them. Some flying but most perched in trees and bushes. Also, we saw turtles. Mostly yellow headed turtles. Young ones sunning themselves on logs by the side of the river. If we got too close they would quietly slip off their log and vanish into the water.

The linked lakes here gave rise to quite a different environment to the small channels. Much more open. We saw some brown monkeys that defied identification and a black one that was probably a Saki monkey.

Heading back to the ship, I managed to photograph a dolphin. It was a grey river dolphin. Not as exotic as a pink dolphin but a dolphin nonetheless. A fine addition to my large collection of pictures of ripples on the river where a dolphin has just dived.

After lunch we moved back downriver so as to take the skiffs up the Zapote River (I think). Here there were many types of birds. Egrets were still in abundance along with kingfishers, wood peckers, parrots and toucans. Diane and the rest of the boat tried their hand at fishing. I wanted nothing to do with it. Fortunately, she did not catch anything. Something, probably piranhas, nibbled all the meat off her hook. Twice. Sometimes it is best to keep your hands out of the water while fishing.

Yarapa

Another 6am and we were up a creek without a name. Well, I am sure it has a name but it is not marked on my map so I have no idea. The creek was small, meandering and choked with weeds. We spotted a nose looking at us from a hole in a tree trunk. Probably a Nutria (coypu) a type of Amazonian rat. He watched us carefully as we drifted past but showed no sign of coming out. There was a brightly coloured tanager bird and then, at the base of the tree, some proboscis bats. This time we got close enough to see detail. Although only a couple of centimetres long, they are cute and furry. And they do have big noses. All bats are covered in fur, except for Batman. He wears a bat suit, to look bat like, but it has no fur.

We passed some kingfishers and a heron then someone spotted a monkey. Turned out to be a tamarin monkey although it looked to me like a stuffed cat hanging in the tree. There were some colourful aracari birds and sleeping sloth. The sloth was just a big ball of fur in the top of a tree. It never moved in all the time we watched it. At the end of the navigable part of the creek we saw some black-headed night monkeys. They were huddled together in a large tree hole. Each monkey was about the size of a squirrel. They peered out at us nervously. Amongst monkeys, these are the only truly nocturnal species. They are also particularly susceptible to malaria. Apparently, the presence of night monkeys is a good indicator that there is no malaria around. Still plenty of mosquitoes though and we had both applied a good layer of chemical warfare before we came out.

On the way back to the ship, we passed a fisherman who showed off the armoured catfish he had caught. These are not good eating. The locals occasionally make a soup. We saw some soup the following day and everyone thought it looked horribly unappetising. Quite possibly he threw it back into the river after we had passed.

After the first shower of the day and breakfast we went out for a hike. This was in a cultivated area with many fruit trees, yucca and banana trees. Bananas are not really trees. They are in fact, herbs, and the fruit are berries. There were also grapefruit trees. Not so remarkable but I had never seen one before. The real reason we were here was a troop of Pygmy Marmosets. Tiniest of all monkeys and a native of the rainforests of the upper Amazon basin. They are remarkably cute but also very shy. They feed on the gum from trees. With sharp little teeth, they bite a hole in the bark. The gum pools in the hole from where they lap it up. After half an hour of trying to photograph the little blighters, I had a collection of pictures of part of a marmoset. The rest of the photograph being the tree, branch or leaves that it was hiding behind. We were not allowed to shake them out of the tree and pin them to the ground to get a good photograph – so this was going to have to do.

Early afternoon the ship moved quite a way upriver and in the evening, we went out in the skiffs to hunt caimans. The plural of caiman is not caimen. We drove out past a small settlement and were greeted by a small girl. She was showing off the piranha fish she had caught. These are not so dangerous as the films project. Unless you are bleeding, they are unlikely to attack. Even so, it is a special sort of young girl that handles one like a toy.

Into the small channel and the first things we saw were several types of monkeys. Again, photography was difficult. For a start there is not much light. It was early evening but even during the day, the thick canopy is remarkably effective at blocking the sun. The birds and animals tend to stay in the distance. Using a long lens, in low light from a small boat is not a good recipe for success. A while ago, I invested in a Canon 500mm f4 lens. This is a bit of a beast and heavy. An hour spent hoisting it around can get to feel like an upper body workout. Fortunately, it handles the conditions quite well. Even so, I often found that the light so low that I had to turn the camera sensitivity right up. This makes the images very grainy. Our guides were very good at identifying all creatures we saw but I could not remember all the names. I have resorted to Google so quite possibly some of the names of birds and animals are wrong.

Dark fell and our guide produced a powerful spotlight. Apparently, the way to hunt caimans is by looking for the light reflecting from their eyes. Like cat’s eyes, they appear to shine in the dark. Round a corner in a particularly weed clogged channel we came across several. Bright eyes on a small face lurking motionless in the water. We all looked at each other for a few minutes and the headed back to the ship for dinner.

Yanayacu

The sun rose to find us bobbing around on the main river on our pre-breakfast skiff ride. Early in the morning is as cool as it gets and the mosquitoes are not too bad. Evening is the mosquito happy hour when you really need to cover up. Except in some places, deep in the forest which appear to be thick with mosquitoes any time of the day. Our morning ritual, before breakfast, now included mosquito repellent and sunscreen. Out on the river, the trick is to keep moving. Stay in one place too long and the little biters will arrive. Keep moving, every few minutes and everything is fine.

We met a raft drifting down the river. Three guys on a home-made construction of logs tied together. They were on their way to Iquitos. Tied at the front of the raft was a large net full of catfish that they had caught. A small motor on the back was to stop them drifting into a bank. After several days drifting down the river with their catch, they would be able to sell the fish and sell the wood they built the raft from. Then they would take their net and other possessions, head back upriver on the ferry, and start again. For now, they were sitting on the raft watching the world drift by.

After breakfast, we were back in the skiffs and heading up a small creek. First thing we saw was an iguana. This was a green iguana, amazonian cousin to all the iguanas we saw in the Galapagos. Further on we spotted some tree houses. Apparently, these are available for rent. This looked wholesome fun. A room high in the treetops. For me, however, on balance, I’ll stick with the air-conditioned cabin. Next, we saw some brown titi monkeys. This is not what our guide called them. Unfortunately, I cannot recall what he said so I used Google. This is what Google calls them.

There was a group of Kiskadee nests hanging from a tree and a sloth doing some sort of slow, strange early morning sloth exercises. Our guide shouted to stop the boat and back up. There was an anteater. This surprised me on two counts. First, I never expected an anteater to be up a tree. Secondly, I could not see it. Eventually, I took several photos in the indicated direction and then zoomed into them on the camera screen. Sure enough, there was an anteater, up a tree, in a dark corner. It looked to be asleep. How our guide spotted it is beyond me. Amazing. On the way back we saw a classic green parakeet and some more proboscis bats. These look like so many little scabs on a tree trunk until you get really close to them.

In the afternoon, we went to visit a village. First, we went to a pond with giant lily pads on it. Victoria Amazonica can grow leaves up 3 m in diameter. This impressed me and also brought back a memory. I had seen this sort of lily before. After pondering where I might have encountered a bit of Amazonian jungle previously, I recalled looking at giant lilies with my mother. This was many years ago at Chatsworth House, a historic stately home in the Peak District. The lilies date back to Victorian times when people cared little about invasive species but were very keen on impressing their nobility friends with the exotic plants they could grow.

In the village came the inevitable presentation of craft goods which we looked at politely. We also looked at a partially built canoe, sugar cane press made from a tree trunk and some macaws. Very brightly coloured birds which, we were assured, were not pets but simply chose to hang out round the village. We also found an annatto tree. Locals use the bright red colour from the seeds of this tree to paint themselves so that they will look fierce. As well as a strong colour, the seeds also have a slightly nutty taste. This is why they are used, in the UK, as the colouring agent in Red Leicester cheese.

Pahuachiro

Up at dawn again for another short boat trip before breakfast. This time we visited the Pahuachiro Creek. The water here is very dark, a result of tannins from the vegetation along the bank. It is the start of the rainy season. This close to the equator it is hot and humid all the time. There are only really two seasons: wet and dry. At the peak of the wet season much of the forest is flooded. We could clearly see the high-water mark on the trees. A good two or three metres above the current level. This makes the jungle almost impenetrable. With a small canoe you can travel a short distance from the river course but it is slow and difficult.

The water in the main river is a chocolate brown colour because of all the silt it is carrying. Where the black water from the creek meets the main river the two types of water do not mix immediately but swirl around each other in intricate patterns. This is the place for the river dolphins. They hunt fish that have been confused in the merging currents. The dolphins use their echo location to hide in the murky, silt laden water and then dart out to catch the hapless fish. The Amazon River Dolphins are pink and have a bulbous head that is part of their echo location system. Slightly smaller are the Tucuxi dolphins which are grey and look a little like Bottlenose Dolphins. We saw both types but they are very hard to photograph. You need some sort of precognition to guess where they are going to pop up next.

After breakfast, we went for a walk. Every time we walked in the jungle, we were warned not to casually touch things, not to lean on the trees and to be careful where we placed our hands and feet. This is seriously important advice. Shortly after setting off, we were shown a judgement tree. This is a tree that has become infested by fire ants. The trunk is riddled with holes and few ants can be seen running around. However, if you bang the tree then loads of ants come out. Traditionally, bad people would be stripped and tied to the tree. The village shaman would then hit the tree with a big stick. This “judgement” could be fatal. Shortly after pondering this lethal tree I came across a fuzzy blob on another tree trunk. This turned out to be a mass of caterpillars. What I didn’t realise at the time is that these can be equally fatal. The caterpillars of the Lonomia obliqua moth possess a uniquely potent anticoagulant venom. Wikipedia says “A typical envenomation incident involves a person unknowingly leaning against, placing their hand on, or rubbing their arm against a group of these caterpillars that are gathered on the trunk of a tree. The effects of a dose from multiple caterpillars can be dramatic and severe, including massive internal hemorrhaging, kidney failure, and hemolysis. The resulting medical syndrome is sometimes called lonomiasis. Death may result, either rapidly or after many days following envenomation”.

At the end of the walk, we spotted a sloth. In typically sloth fashion it was hanging from a tree looked like an abandoned bag of wet fur. Photographing sloths requires patience. They do not move very much and it sometimes hard to determine where the sloth ends and the tree begins. Eventually this one did move and not only did I managed to get a picture of its face but I could also spot that it was carrying a baby.

After lunch, while we were all snoozing, the boat moved further up the river. Here was a small village where we had been invited to see the release of some turtles. The yellow-spotted river turtle is one of the largest turtles and has been on the endangered list for a while. It has been hunted for food and was also exceedingly popular as a pet in the USA. Fortunately, now some work is being done to protect the turtles. The villagers collect turtle eggs and then protect them while they hatch. Once the baby turtles’ shells have hardened, they can be released into the wild with a much better chance of survival. We arrived at the riverbank by the village to find buckets full of baby turtles, all ready to be set free. Diane loved this. She carefully carried a bucket to a marked area by the water and tipped them out. The turtles knew exactly what to do and headed straight down the slope for the water. It was great to watch.

Nauta

From Arequipa we flew back to Lima, yet again, for the New Year celebrations. The party was typically Peruvian and involved a massive and completely unorganised firework display on the clifftops of Miraflores. It was rather magnificent and chaotic. The park area was packed with people and colourful ordnance exploded all around us. Great fun. Two days later we flew to Iquitos to join an Amazon River trip. From the plane we could see the vast tracts of jungle with the river winding its way through it.

The Amazon basin is huge. Seven million square kilometres. The Amazon River is the largest in the world by discharge volume. It is also the longest, depending on how you measure these things. Near the head of the river, in north-east Peru, is the city of Iquitos, population 50,000. This is the world’s largest city that cannot be reached by road or rail. Average temperature 32°C with 80% humidity. Hot and sweaty. Not really my favourite environment but we wanted to experience a rainforest, or at least, I did, so we just had to put up with it. One of the selling points of the river boat we were joining was air-conditioned cabins. At least would have a cool refuge.

From Iquitos we were driven, on the only road, to the small town of Nauta, population 2,000. Nauta is located on the north bank of the Marañón River, a few miles from its confluence of the Río Ucayali. On maps, the point where the rivers join is the highest place that is named the Amazon River.

The river boat, called the Delfin II, operates several long, narrow, steel hulled boats that they call skiffs. Each of these has two rows of seats for a dozen people and two outboard engines on the back. The boats have to be quite tough because there is a lot of wood and other debris floating in the river. We were collected and taken to the Delfin which was holding station just offshore. Here we were introduced to our cabin. The accommodation was rather nice. A large picture window, good sized bed, nice bathroom and the all-important air-conditioning. It seemed like a significant part of the design of the river boat was to support the generators and heat exchangers necessary to run all the cooling systems. I was struck by the same contradiction that we experienced in Thailand. The general approach to dealing with global warming is to try and use less energy. But the way to deal with living in hot places is to use more energy so that you can keep cool. We had an excellent dinner and then went straight to bed with the warning that we were going to be up before sunrise the next day.

The best time to explore the jungle is early in the morning. I had to reluctantly admit this. Neither of us are really morning people but the advantages are clear. It is a bit cooler but perhaps more importantly this is when most of the birds and animals are active. By lunchtime the rainforest is relatively quiet. Earlier it is buzzing with creatures all going about their business. So, up early, before breakfast and off in the skiffs. We saw many birds including Red-capped cardinal, Kiskadees and some hawks. We also saw a pair of Hoatzin birds. These are unusual amongst birds in that they only eat plants. To consume the vegetation, they have unique digestive system, which contains specialized bacteria in the front part of the gut. This ferments the food, mostly leaves, a process that produces a lot of ripe methane. Locally they are known as “stinkbirds” and are generally avoided by hunters. Apparently, they not only smell bad but also taste bad. Clever birds. Another clever aspect is that the chicks have claws on their wings. This allows them to climb around the tree where they nest. If attacked by predators such as great black hawks, the chicks will jump into the water and hide under the nest while the parents distract the attackers. Later, they can use their claws to clamber back into the nest.

After breakfast, we went for a walk. Walking in the rainforest is not entirely straightforward. We were equipped with Wellington boots, waterproofs and bottles of water. We also applied mosquito repellent and suns screen. It was hot and sweaty. Within a few minutes my shirt was soaked and after an hour my hands were going wrinkly as if I had been in a swimming pool. The forest was dense and reached high above us. So much so that there was not much light. Taking photographs was difficult. No just because of the low light but also because of condensation forming on the lens. We had a local guide who tended to wander off into the forest and then reappear with interesting things. First up was a red backed poison frog. These secrete poison through their skin to deter predators. The frogs are only small but the poison is nasty. Not necessarily fatal to humans but it will kill smaller mammals. Our man was careful to just hold the frog by its leg. Next up was a tarantula spider. Not sure exactly what type but it was enormous, for a spider. Maybe 12 cm long. Then we were shown a Boa constrictor which hissed at me and finally an Anaconda. This looks a little strange in the picture because it had just eaten something. After a couple of hours of walking we were more than happy to get back to our lovely cool cabin for a shower before lunch and an afternoon siesta.

Early evening, we were out again in the skiffs. This is the happy hour for mosquitoes, so we applied extra repellent. Even so, they munched on Diane quite a lot and she came up with many lumps and bumps. We saw Black-capped donacobius, several hawks and a few White-eared jacamar. There were bats on trees. These were a little hard to see. Proboscis bats are only small and blend into the tree bark. From any distance they look like leaves but get closer and you spot the details. Finally, there were monkeys. Squirrel monkeys. A big troop of them. Tricky to photograph because they are small, tend to stay far away and also like to stay hidden behind the leaves and branches. Terrific to watch as they leap around in the canopy. As dusk fell, we headed back to the Delfin II for another excellent dinner and another early night.

Colca Canyon

Our hotel, in Chivay, sits in roughly the centre of the Colca Valley. The valley goes SW about 80 km from Callalli to Huambo becoming increasingly deep and steep sided. Beyond there it becomes known as Colca Canyon. This section is one of the deepest chasms in the world with a depth of over 4,000 m. The gorge is not only spectacular but also home to many Condors. The Andean Condor is an endangered species although it is an integral part of Andean culture. The birds, with wingspans up to nearly 3 m can live to 70 years old. They can often be seen swooping up the down the canyon. A phenomenon that has become an important tourist attraction.

We took a steady drive down the lower part of the Colca Valley. Driving in Peru is interesting. There are no rules. At least, none that anyone appears to care about. Lane markers are completely ignored. Traffic lights are for guidance, at best. Priority at junctions is determined by forcing your way into the traffic. Any space between vehicles of more than half a metre is considered fair game to attempt to drive into. I have seen cars going the wrong way around roundabouts to gain an advantage. If a vehicle comes up behind you with flashing blue lights then it is probably just a vehicle with flashing blue lights. They seem very keen on this. Emergency vehicles use a siren as well, not that it appears to help them make progress. Indicators are often used, although their meaning is typically obscure. It is common to see a car indicating one way while turning another. Hazard lights are also regularly used. As best I can tell they suggest the driver is about to do something seriously unexpected like cutting across four lanes of traffic at right angles or stopping in the middle of a roundabout to onboard passengers. Pedestrians must be especially careful. One car accelerated, hard, to ensure they got to the middle of a pedestrian crossing before us. We were forced to make a rapid retreat. My best advice for walking around cities is to ignore any preconceptions you might have and just follow what the locals do. Stay in the middle of a group for safety.

Fortunately, the Colca Valley is not too busy. Once we were out of town, I could relax a little. Historically the area has been important for agriculture and livestock farming. Thousands of man-made terraces adorn the hillsides along with drainage channels and irrigation ditches. Ruins and remains dating back thousands of years have been found here. We stopped at various vantage points to take in the views. A significant amount of rural depopulation appears to be happening. Many deserted farm buildings and fields growing wild. After an hour or so we had made our way to the start of canyon proper.

We had a walk along the canyon edge. Quite aware of the altitude here, well over 3,500 m, so we took it steady. The views were remarkable. Mountains reaching up to 6,000 m and the chasm wall dropping vertiginously down to a river way, way below us. We came across some wild horses. I photographed some cacti. In a leisurely fashion, we wandered up to the Mirador Cruz del Cóndor, a series of observation platforms for watching the condors.

There were a lot of people here. Coach loads of tourists all hoping to see condors. Obviously, since there were crowds of visitors there were also many souvenir sellers. Large assortments of brightly coloured craftwork laid out on plastic sheets. One person was dressed in a rather large and impressive condor outfit. He hopped around on the wall and posed for photographs with the visitors. The only thing that was missing were the condors. There was not a hint. Scores of eyes were peering upwards, vainly searching the skies for the great birds.

Time passed. Lunchtime came and went. The tourists started to leave. The sellers began to pack up their wares. Eventually there were just a handful of people left and our guide was asking if maybe we should press on. I wanted to wait a little more and passed the time photographing some of the small birds that were fluttering around. I also photographed some tiny lizards and more cactus blooms. Wandering up and down I tried to find angles for a picture that would convey the enormity of the chasm and the vast drop below us. This proved to be remarkably difficult.

The wind began to pick up. It even became a bit chilly. Suddenly a condor appeared. Later we considered that maybe they needed the wind to be able to soar on the up currents. Big birds tend to avoid the effort of flapping their wings a lot, preferring to use air currents. Condors are the masters of this and in the right conditions will fly for hours with little apparent effort. Rising from way down the valley, the bird swooped up above us and glided into the distance. Then came another and another. In all we saw eight or nine birds majestically swooping around the viewpoint before slipping off into the distance. It was great. We had been patient and had our just rewards. I managed to get a few good photos.

Feeling satisfied we drove back towards the shallower part of the valley. We checked out a church and walked down into a much smaller gorge to see some pre-Inca remains. In the distance loomed Ampato, an extinct stratovolcano which towers to 6,288 m in a classic volcano shape. Clouds forming over the cone looked ominous. As if the monster was coming back to life. Eventually we were back at the hotel. Las Casitas is based on little houses. Each hotel room, or casita, is actually a small house containing a bedroom and bathroom. The casitas are set in a large garden area with ponds, waterfalls, flower beds and lawns. It was all very tranquil and relaxing. Our room had an open fire in it which we were invited to light. This would have been lovely but, to us, the room was more than hot enough already. Wandering around the gardens, we came across a grazing alpaca that Diane talked to for a while.

This was the end of our Belmond trip. An indulgent dollop of luxury for my birthday and xmas. Also some interesting ways to travel. Next day we headed to Arequipa and the airport for a flight back to Lima. Lima again and this was still not the last time we would be there.

Andean Explorer

We were about to embark on a two-night train journey. I have always liked the idea of sleeper trains. Rushing through the night while tucked up in bed. Diane and I took a sleeper from Innsbruck to Hamburg a few years ago. It was great fun. Essentially for motorcyclists. You load your bike on the back of the train and then get in a little couchette. One bench seat and a small closet with a sink in it. Later, the guard comes round to turn the seat into bunk beds. We brought some food and a bottle of wine. In the morning the bunk went away and the guard appeared with coffee and croissant. At Hamburg we all disembarked. The train was turned around so that the bikes could be ridden off the back. Saves a two-day autobahn slog from Austria to Northern Germany.

This train in Peru however was a very different matter. Check-in was in the hotel bar and the first thing that happened was that, despite being only mid-morning, we were offered champagne and snacks. It would have been churlish to refuse, especially on boxing day. Our luggage was whisked away and a little later we were taken to the station. Onboard, in the first of two bars, we were introduced to the train and then taken to our compartment. Each car had two compartments containing beds, chairs and a bathroom with a shower. I have been in smaller hotel rooms. The whole train is an echo of a different, earlier age. A fantasy of sumptuous travel and attentive service. It felt like we had stepped back in time. Fortunately, on the practical side, everything worked and was spotlessly clean.

The train rattled off into the countryside. We had a pleasant lunch and then sat out in the rear car for a while. The back of this is open to the air. Ideal for photography and a fun place to watch Peru rolling past. It was not a fast train. There was plenty of time to watch the villages and fields of llamas. Mid afternoon we paused to look at some ruins. These were grain storage built by the Incas. Not the most fascinating but it was nice to stretch our legs.

As the afternoon went on, we climbed higher in the Andes. The scenery became more rugged and the settlements more sparse. Early evening we stopped at the train’s highest point. 4,430 m. There is a little station here and some locals selling craftwork. Back on the train we had an excellent dinner. I wore my new alpaca scarf in an attempt to look more stylish. The train rolled on towards Puno while, back in the privacy of our cabin, I indulged in one of the highlights of the trip, a shower in a moving train. Snug in bed we listened to the clacking of the wheels on the track as we fell asleep.

Get up at five in the morning and come to watch the sunrise over Lake Titicaca, they said. We did. I figured we could go back to bed and get another hour in before breakfast. It was dark when we got up. The train was parked on a pier right at the edge of the lake, so it was just a short walk to the water. At 3,800 m, Lake Titicaca is often called the world’s highest navigable lake. What they mean by this is that larger, commercial boats can sail on it. The sunrise was pretty good but more importantly, it felt like a special location. An hour later we did indeed head back to bed.

Much later, after breakfast, we headed out in boats to visit the floating islands. The islands are built by the Uros people although it is not completely clear why. Possibly to escape the Incas, or the Spanish, or other, more warlike tribes. Whatever, these days they are built to attract tourists. The islands are made of totora reeds which grow abundantly in the area. Although and island can last several decades it requires constant maintenance and replacement of the reeds that rot in the water. On the islands they build houses and reed boats. Each of the 120 or so islands is home to between two and six families.

When you arrive, they do a little dance, sing songs, show you inside the houses and try to sell you craftwork. Look closely and you can spot modern influences. Solar panels, electric lights, TV sets. Apparently, it is now possible to rent a straw room via Airbnb. We stood around politely with the rest of the group and were genuinely impressed with the reed boats. They seemed quite sturdy and stable.

Lake Titicaca has been shrinking over the past decade as successive droughts take their toll. At the same time, the increasing numbers of people living around the lake is causing problem with pollution, especially in the Puno area. We were warned about drinking the water or eating raw food.

Lunch was on the island of Taquile, population 2,000. When spoken, this sounded a lot like Tequilla, but sadly there was no connection. The men of Taquile are famous for knitting. In fact, it is how they prove their manhood. A well knitted item is essential when wooing a bride. It is only the men that knit usually starting at a very early age. The work produces a very tight knit item. We saw some hats that were probably waterproof so dense were the stiches. Also, bags, shawls, toys, socks, gloves and all manner of things. Women get to do the weaving.

We had a walk on the beach and got back to the little restaurant just in time for some more singing and dancing. Vegetarians are not really catered for so we ended up with some fried eggs and rice. Then it was the 45 km trip back to Puno where pretty much everyone fell asleep on the boat.

The train left late afternoon by rolling straight through the marketplace. This was quite a remarkable sight. Everybody stepped out of the way to allow the train to pass within inches. People seated at tables adjusted their seats. Stallholders pulled back the awnings of their stalls. Children and chickens hopped off the line. Then, as soon as the train has passed, they all crowded back again. The train passed through the massing throngs like a finger drawn across a plate of gravy. It would have been enough to give and Health and Safety officer a heart attack but nothing went wrong. Nobody got hurt. No produce got damaged. Before long we were in the suburbs and then out again into the countryside as night fell.

Five o’clock next morning just three of us were up to watch the sunrise. Diane never even tried to get out of bed. Just told me to be quiet when I came back in. On balance, it was probably not worth the effort. I got a couple of interesting photos but the sky was overcast and we never actually saw the sun. It was interesting to see where the train had parked for the night. We were between two lakes with a handful of settlements dotted around. Here the people are mostly busy with managing shellfish in small, netted off areas. As the pre-dawn light began to lift the darkness I could watch them coming out in small boats to check their nets.

Later, after an excellent breakfast, the train was pushing on into the Andes and we could see volcanoes looming in the distance. A few llamas dotted the landscape and also some vicuña, wild mountain brothers to the llama. Just after crossing an excellent bridge of rivetted ironwork, we stopped to visit some cave paintings. This involved a short trek down into a gorge. A local guide unlocked a steel fence and proudly presented the paintings. Apparently, these are six thousand years old. Cynically, they looked to me like something some kids might have scratched on the wall one weekend when they were a bit bored. This is probably why I have never aspired to being an archaeologist.

Back on the train we travelled for another hour or so across the increasingly desolate landscape before arriving at the km 97 marker. Here we were told to get off. Not everyone, just me, Diane and a handful of others. The rest of the train would arrive in Arequipa by early evening. We, however, were off to another Belmond hotel. Las Casitas hotel is set in a little oasis to the south of Chivay. In the meantime, we had been dropped off in the middle of nowhere. A single building in the otherwise barren semi-desert of the altiplano. Fortunately, the sense of abandonment did not last long. Cars and minibuses arrived to collect us. Twenty minutes of dirt track took us to a tarmac road and then on to Chivay.

On the way we passed through a national park area and saw many vicuña. Also a few ponds with some sort of black duck. The road rose over a pass at 4,900 m. This is Diane’s altitude record. We stopped at the viewpoint from where you can see multiple volcanoes. This is also the site of Peru’s highest toilet, a magnificent stone built building where, for a modest fee, you can also wash your hands out of a bucket. From here came the long descent to Chivay and our hotel. Beyond that lay the formidable Colca Canyon.

Machu Picchu (again)

Next day we visited Machu Picchu for the second time. This was so different, and so much better, than the first trip. Two days later, we really felt like we had explored Machu Picchu whereas previously we had just rushed through. For a start, we did not need to get up at silly o’clock and listen to a monotonal monologue that drilled into my skull while being bounced along in an uncomfortable minibus. No. This time we had a leisurely breakfast before a short drive to the train station at Ollantaytambo. Here we boarded the train, but not the crowded tourist train with water and a dry bread roll. Today we were on the Hiram Bingham. This is the name of the guy who discovered Machu Picchu (sort of), it is also the name of a Belmond train that runs once per day. We were welcomed on board by a three-piece band. The coaches were spacious and comfortable. Then we got served an excellent lunch as the train slowly rattled down the valley. Living the life.

At Agues Caliente, the Machu Picchu train station, we were ushered into the same sort of minibus as before. There are only a limited number of vehicles that can use the dirt road. Thirty minutes later we were at the same entrance as before but now we were fresh, comfortable, not struggling with the altitude and we had a guide with a sense of humour.

Obviously, the ruins were just the same ruins as before. We were feeling good and the weather was better. So much better was this that I actually paid attention to what the guide was saying. I was also in a much better mood to get some proper photographs.. The joints in the Inca stonework was far more interesting as was the solar calendar. I enjoyed photographing the window where Hiram Bingham had erased Agustín Lizárraga’s note of 1902. I even photographed a few flowers. In summary, the day was delightful.

Since our previous visit we had been doing some homework. In particular, watching films that feature Machu Picchu. The earliest, Secret of the Incas, 1954, staring Charlton Heston is a classic and the basis for Indian Jones. Much later came Transformers, Rise of the Beasts. I spotted the field that Monkey landed on and the terraces that the ensuing fight destroyed. We skipped Dora and the Lost City of Gold but may yet watch The Emperors New Groove. With great anticipation we are awaiting the release of Paddington in Peru.

Tour finished; we went to our hotel. Not all the way back down into valley, but to the Sanctuary Lodge, another Belmond hotel, right next to the entrance to the ruins. We watched the sun set behind the mountains and listened to a Peruvian ensemble playing some traditional music. Most tourist sites, coaches, bars and so on play a background loop based on El Cóndor Pasa. Originally this was an orchestral musical piece from the zarzuela El Cóndor Pasa by the Peruvian composer Daniel Alomía Robles , written in 1913 and based on traditional Andean music, specifically the folk music of Peru. Since then, it is estimated that over 4,000 versions of the tune have been produced worldwide, along with 300 sets of lyrics. In 2004, Peru declared this song as part of its national cultural heritage. It is now considered the second national anthem. Diane was convinced that the song originated with Simon & Garfunkel from their best-selling album, Bridge over Troubled Water, 1970. Their version, with their own lyrics is called El Cóndor Pasa (If I Could). Google was the eventual arbiter in resolving this disagreement.

In the morning, we were up early for a walk. 7am we started the long plod up Machu Picchu. The ruins, usually called Machu Picchu are actually set in a saddle between two mountains: Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu. The latter is the mountain with steep looking steps and terraces near the top. It often appears as a backdrop to the ruins. Machu Picchu is the less photogenic but higher mountain behind the ruins. 650 m of steep steps take you to the summit. We got a little over halfway up but were happy with this and enjoyed the views. On the way back down we got to visit a previously unseen part of the ruins which was fun.

Eventually we ended up back at the Sanctury hotel where we had a lazy afternoon. Sitting at the restaurant table I could look, through an open window, at a birdfeeder for Hummingbirds. It was red and contained sugar water. I spent a very happy hour, with a glass of wine, photographing the birds that arrived.

Late afternoon, we headed back down the hill to meet up with the Hiram Bingham again. On the way back the train stops at Ollantaytambo but then continues almost to Cuzco. A three and a half hour trip. It was xmas eve so our table was set out with a little nativity scene. I liked that the brown baby Jesus was represented as a small corn cob wearing a chullo, an Andean style of hat with earflaps. Joseph, another cob, was similarly adorned. We set the scene up on the windowsill where the donkeys could look over us as we ate. Terrific meal and then we wandered up to the bar. Here a band were playing and bit of a party was going on. Great was to spend xmas eve.

We got back quite late. The hotel staff suggested we go down to the town square to watch the fireworks at midnight. I assumed some sort of organised display. But this is Peru. Everyone brought their own fireworks down and then simply let them off where they stood. It was a glorious chaos. Fireworks exploding left, right and centre. You needed to keep your wits about you as jumping jacks bounced through the crowds and the occasional badly launched rocket shot along the cobbles.

Next day, in the afternoon, we had another short tour of Cuzco. In particular, we were taken up to an Inca fortress above the city. Here we could marvel, again, at the incredible Inca stonework. We also got some great views of the city on the way back down. In the evening we packed ready to join another train the next day.

Hiram Bingham – 10 cars long

Lima

We flew back to Lima. Again. This would be out third visit to Lima but not our last. We were joining a trip organised by Belmond. They are a global travel and leisure company. Our interest was that they operate several hotels and trains in Peru. Our trip, which would cover my birthday and xmas, was going to involve a couple of trains, Machu Picchu (again) and a few hotels. It began at the rather lovely Miraflores Park hotel in Lima. I was particularly impressed by the pond full of turtles just outside the front door. Here we also reacquainted ourselves with Paddington at sunset.

Next day, my birthday, began with a city tour. First stop was a museum. I have mentioned several times before that we are not really museum people. The idea of celebrating reaching 64 in a museum is not one I would have chosen. In the event, the tour actually proved to be quite interesting. We learnt about the Cusco school of art that developed during the colonial period and is characterised by religious paintings that incorporate Inca themes. The Cuzqueña painting style freely mixed traditional Inca colours, llamas, depictions of Pachamama (Inca earth goddess) with baroque style images. To me this feels like a subversive cultural revolution hidden in plain sight from the European Catholics. My favourite painting, The Last Supper, 1753, by Marcos Zapata, depicts the usual last supper stuff but with a guinea pig centre stage on the table. Jesus eats guinea pigs – I have proof. To my delight, we later saw the original painting in Cuzco Cathedral. The tour ended with an unexpected glass of sparkling wine in a richly decorated side room. On balance, as museum tours go, not so bad.

After that came a walk around the historic centre of Lima and the main square. There are some fabulous buildings and churches here. The weather was nice. The trip did not take too long and the day ended with an excellent pizza not far from the hotel. Next morning we flew to Cuzco.

This time we were getting a bit more used to it. Not only had we started to acclimatise to the altitude a little but also the day did not involve a silly early start. We left Cuzco immediately and were taken off on a small tour that began in a textile museum. This was a place we knew from the Hx trip, so we skipped past the main display and went straight to visit the llamas. Next, we were driven in the direction of Pisac and the Sacred Valley past an interesting hotel at Pachar. The accommodation here is a series of pods slung high on a cliff. After climbing a sheer wall for a couple of hundred metres you can sleep cosy in a pod with, presumably, excellent views along the valley.

Pisac is an ancient Inca town with narrow streets and amazing stonework. We wandered round some of the ruins and took in a few of the tourist attractions including tuk-tuk taxis, many colourful shops and the Incabucks coffee bar. Clambering up onto the remains of an old fortification we were reminded of the altitude here. It was well worth the effort for the view down the valley.

Next stop was higher up the side of the valley, 3,500 m, at an archaeological site called Moray. Here there are Inca remains, predominantly, several terraced circular depressions, the largest of which is 30 m deep. The depth, design, and orientation with respect to wind and sun creates temperature difference of as much as 5 °C between the top and the bottom. This has led archaeologists to speculate (guess) that the different terraces were used to study the effects of climate on species of plant. By growing potatoes, for example, they could determine which conditions favoured each of the 3,000 potatoes varieties that are cultivated in Puru.

Penultimate stop of the day was the Maras Salt Mines. Here, naturally occurring saline water from a deep spring is led into evaporation pools. The pools are built like a series of terraces on the hillside. A system of small dams control how the water is fed into each pool. Once a pool is full it simply sits in the sunshine, evaporating, until eventually the salt can be scraped off. Archaeological research suggests that the salt mines were used over a thousand years ago.

Finally, we arrived at our hotel for the night. The Rio Sagrado hotel by the Urubamba River in the heart of the Sacred Valley. This hotel is built of a series of detached small houses set in a beautifully manicured garden. We got to end the day drinking white wine while watching the humming birds flitting around the bushes.

Quito

From Galapagos we flew to Guayaquil. We could have stayed on the plane all the way to Quito, but first stop was Guayaquil, so we got off to have a look. Possibly the main thing we learned about Guayaquil, is that we would not want to go back there again. The place feels strangely dangerous. As we got out of our taxi, I spotted armed guards either side of the hotel entrance. Later, as we walked into town, we saw that all the larger shops, pharmacies, banks and offices also had armed guards. Smaller shops used solid steel shutters, barred windows and barbed wire. It had just gone dark when we were wandering back and we heard a gunshot. I am no expert on this, but I could not think what else would have made the sound. By then, the streets were virtually deserted although it was only early evening. We walked in different directions from the hotel and found the same story everywhere. That was enough for us. Nothing bad happened, we were not assaulted or accosted, we did not see anything happen. Even so, we were happy to push on to Quito.

In Quito, we stayed at a delightful old hotel at the edge of the old part of the city. Quito’s historic centre is among the largest and best-preserved in the Americas. In 1978 it was one of the first World Cultural Heritage Sites declared by UNESCO. We spent a couple of days happily wandering around here. Narrow streets, old buildings, small park areas, public squares and many old churches. There were also a few museums which we skipped and no end of tourist-orientated shops. We also found some terrific places to eat. First of these was a vegetarian Italian restaurant. We arrived at dusk and were shown to a table in a small open courtyard inside the building. Very atmospheric. Especially when the candles were brought out. Electricity in Quito appears to be a bit of a problem. There is electricity but not everywhere and not all the time. A strong dependence on hydroelectric power is currently a problem because of the severe drought. For several years the rainfall has been dangerously low. This combined with poor maintenance of the power stations and a general lack of capacity has caused a program of rolling blackouts lasting up to 14 hours. Some shops use generators. Typically, these are running on the pavement outside and this makes for a very noisy city. Our restaurant used candles which was really quite lovely.

In the central square, we found a hat shop. Panama hats. As you know, Panama hats come from Ecuador where they are also known as Jipijapa hats or toquilla straw hats. There are several stories about why they are called Panama hats. Possibly because they were popular amongst workers on the Panama canal. In 1906, U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt visited the construction site and was photographed wearing a Panama hat. Perhaps my favourite story is that Panama hats were introduced at the World’s Fair in Paris 1855. Ecuador was out of favour with France at the time and so they were marketed as from Panama. The quality of a hat is essentially determined by the number of fibres per inch. A good one will have more than 300. The absolute best, known as Montecristis, after the town of Montecristi, Ecuador, can have up to 3,000 fibres per inch. This particular hat shop specialised in the more up market model. They started at $500 (USD) each and went up to a rather eye watering $21,000. We didn’t buy one despite being subjected to a good 20 minutes of high-powered sales pitch. A little further down the road we found a shop specialising in stuffed Capybara. We did not buy one of those either but they were rather cute.

There is a cable car in Quito. This will take you up to a fantastic viewpoint at 4,100m. We arrived there more breathless than ever. The views were well worth the effort. We took a slow walk along a ridge to a slightly higher vantage point. Along the way Diane found some swings. We also paused to be photographed with some llamas. Obviously, we needed to borrow hats and ponchos for this.

Our last evening in Quito there were fireworks. We never found out why but we were still quite happy to watch them from the rooftop terrace of our hotel. I also managed to get a photograph of the magnificent Basílica del Voto Nacional. This splendid gothic church is illuminated at night. Looks terrific but I did wonder if the Catholics were getting more than their fair share of electricity.

Genovesa

Genovesa Island is a shield volcano in the east of Galapagos. Part of the wall of the main caldera has collapsed so that it is now possible to sail into the caldera. There are very few caldera like this. By an odd coincidence, one of the others is at Deception Island off the Antarctic peninsula. We had been there at the beginning of November. The only other navigable caldera in the world, that I know of, is Santorini in Greece.

What makes Genovesa unique is the concentration of birdlife there. Frigatebirds, red-footed boobies, Nazca boobies, swallow-tailed gulls, storm petrels, tropicbirds, Darwin’s finches, and Galápagos mockingbirds. Thousands of them. Great clouds of birds in the air and the ground seems to be covered in birds either resting or nesting.

Access is very tightly controlled here. Especially since a recent outbreak of bird flu. Only a few people are allowed to land at any one time and you are only allowed a short time, two hours I think, ashore. We started off with a RHIB cruise along the cliff edges of the caldera. There are no historical records of volcanic activity at Genovesa but the are some young lava flows. The cliffs were full of nesting birds. In enjoyed watching the rather exotic looking, red-billed tropicbirds popping in and out of holes in the rock. There were also herons, pelicans and a few sea lions.

To get onto the island, there is a very steep wooden staircase running up inside a crack of the caldera wall. It is not dangerous, but definitely an interesting way of getting onto the island. I spent a while at the top of the steps photographing the tropicbirds. These are normally solitary creatures but I think it must be that time of year when they stop being solitary for a while. Pairs and small groups were creating a terrific display swooping around in formation.

The steps led to a rocky plateau with many bushes and more birds than I have ever seen in one place. Great flocks of terns were flying along the shore interspersed with a few larger birds. The bushes seemed to be full of birds. Mostly boobies. Red and blue footed plus a few Nazca boobies. Some of them were nesting and we spotted a few chicks and youngsters.

In carefully shepherded small groups we walked across the plateau towards the far shore. We could not get anywhere close to where the terns were fishing. A short walk parallel to the shore and then back to the steps via a slightly different route. Everywhere there were birds and more birds. In the air, on the floor, in bushes and sat on rocks. None of them seemed especially nervous of humans although we were under strict instructions not to approach them. In places they were sat on the marked track so we had to carefully step around them.

Back at the steps, we clambered into the RHIB and were taken to a small beach area. We could walk around a little here. People were also allowed to snorkel and swim if they had the inclination. We stayed out of the water but did explore inland a little. More boobies, herons and sea lions.

I took an awful lot of photographs. Possibly my personal record for number of pictures in one day. Less than a thousand, but not by much. They are not all here. What you get here is the result of several hours inspecting and deleting. Then comes cropping and occasionally a bit of colour manipulation. Mostly I just stick to changing the exposure on some or all of the image. Back in the days of celluloid film we used to do this using carboard shapes on a stick to mask part of the final print while it was being exposed under the enlarger. A technique called dodging and burning. These days it is just messing on the computer.

This was the last day of our Galapagos trip. Quite a spectacular day to end with. Overall, the trip has been terrific. The Galapagos is a fascinating place with a completely unique population of flora and fauna. The Hx vessel, the Santa Cruz II, was nice as well. Life there was a little regimented but the crew were friendly and the food was excellent. Next morning we were up early for the flight to Guayaquil.

Rabida and Bartolome

Rabida has an unusual red beach. The lava that originally built the island was rich in iron. This oxidises to form rust as it is being ground into sand by the sea and hence a rusty red beach. While not unique it is one of only a handful worldwide. Rabida also has flamingos. They are pink. Nothing to do with the rust but because they metabolise the carotenoids found in the algae and brine shrimp. Carotenoids are a natural pigment found in many plants. They make carrots, and occasionally my baby sister, orange. They also make tomatoes red and salmon pink. We had seen some pink flamingos earlier but I had yet to get any worthwhile photographs of them. I was on a bit of a mission. The beach traps a small brackish lake which is where the flamingos hang out munching on the shrimp. They took almost no notice of me at all so the photographs were easy.

There is a nice little circular walk on the island. Takes you up on top of some cliffs overlooking the beach. Past many prickly pear cactus plants. I tried eating a prickly pear once. Many years ago, when I was still young and daft. Carefully peeled the skin off with a knife while wearing a pair of gloves. Still ended up with my tongue covered in prickles. Nasty short thin prickles that break off in your skin and then stick out a tiny amount. Really, really annoying for days. Given them a wide berth ever since.

There are nine different species of Darwin’s finches on Rabida. I saw a few but only managed to photograph one. We also saw a mockingbird, a dove, a pelican and handful of young ducks on the pond that google claims to be white-cheeked pintail.

In afternoon we visited Bartolomé Island. This is one of the younger islands in the archipelago and its volcanic heritage is very clear. A wooden walkway has been built up to the summit where there are some excellent views. First problem was getting past the fur seal on the path. I tried a hard stare, Padding Bear style, and that seemed to help. The path makes crossing the rough lava much easier. It leads you past a couple of smaller cones before turning up towards the top of the main cone. Diane counted exactly how many steps there were to the top. She likes doing things like that. Sadly, she has now forgotten how many steps there were – but it was quite a few. On the way back down, I watched several blue footed boobies fishing. They would typically start their dive from 30 m up. How they can spot a fish from up there is beyond me. The dive was always an all-in, total commitment thing so they hit the water like little missiles.

We got back into the RHIB and had a short cruise. There were rumours of a Galapagos penguin colony but we just found an individual bird. Plenty of fur seals though.

Santiago Island

Post Office Bay on the north side of Floreana Island hosts an unusual post office. There is no building, no workers and no stamps. Instead, there is a barrel on a post. None the less this is a real post office and post does get delivered worldwide. The post office was set up at the end of the 18^th century by whalers who often spent years away from home. The principle is that anyone can leave post there and no stamp is required. But you also need to check through all the other post that has been left in case you can deliver it. If for example, your ship was soon to head back to London then you would take mail addressed to London with you. Often the mail would finally be hand delivered. It was a slow system. Might take years. But it worked and it still works now. We left a few cards that may turn up one day. Some of the other travellers that were heading home soon took cards with them.

In the afternoon we went out on a glass bottomed boat. Really, if you want to look at the sub-sea life, you should dive or snorkel. Diane has never done snorkelling and was not too keen on learning on her own. My legs were not up swimming. So, we took to the glass bottomed boat. It seems like a promising idea. Unfortunately, all I can really report is that it is better than nothing. You can see a little of what is going on in the ocean. But not very much. I soon got a sore neck. In fact, I ended up spending more time looking at the birds around us than the fish underneath.

Next day, we were much further south. Like most of the Galapagos islands, Santiago Island also has many other names. These include James Island, San Marcos Island and Duke of York Island. Our first visit was a RHIB cruise in a bay at the north of the island. When we arrived, there was another tour boat there. This happened quite a few times. The tour operators work hard to try and stay apart so usually you get to feel like you have the place to yourself. We got close to a pelican that was fishing. It used the big sack of skin under its beak like a net. There were blue footed boobies dotted along the shore. They mostly just looked as us in that slightly enigmatic way. We also saw quite a lot of swallow-tailed gulls. Some of these appeared to be pairing up.

We were settling into life on board the Santa Cruz II. Up in the morning for breakfast of fresh fruit, nuts and yoghurt. One of the cooks made omelettes to order which I really liked. Then off for a landing of some sort. The weather was the same every day. Warm but not too hot. Cloudy with sunny intervals. Occasional rain. Light clothes and a raincoat were all we ever needed. Lunch was a buffet of salads with a few hot dishes. I tried to stick to the salads but often there would be something very tasty looking that would lead me astray. At lunch we got to choose what we wanted for dinner. The menu was generally very good. I often had pasta but there were usually some other interesting dishes. Then came the afternoon landing after which I would retire to the cabin to take all the photographs off my cameras. Sometimes I would have time to process a handful that we could show to some of the other guests. Pre-dinner drinks on the back deck. If we were lucky this would include the sunset. Each evening there was a presentation at the bar about what was going to happen the next day. Then came the evening meal which would often end with us chatting for a while with whoever we shared a table. Early to bed ready to repeat the next day.

In the afternoon we had a wet landing at a beach to the west. Wet landing means that you will get your feet wet. Some people have shoes that are fine in the water. We tended to land in bare feet and then put shoes on once we were ashore. The shoreline was packed with marine iguanas and fur seals (sea lions). As usual, there were brightly coloured sally lightfoot crabs running around and I also spotted some sort of curlew. Google claims it to be a eurasian whimbrela, but I really have no idea. The big excitement of the afternoon was a pod of Orca swimming past. I managed to get a photograph of one of them. On the way back to the RHIB, I spotted another land iguana.

Santa Cruz

Darwin’s finches (also known as the Galápagos finches) are a group of about 18 species of passerine birds. I just learnt the word passerine. It sounds impressive but just means that they perch. This includes nearly half of all bird species. The thing about the finches is that Darwin noticed there were distinct species on different islands. In particular, there was a lot of variation in beak size. This is a classic example of adaptive radiation, which is the rapid evolutionary diversification of a species that occurs when its members occupy different habitats. The birds are thought to have evolved from a single finch species that came to the islands more than a million years ago. I tried to photograph a few of them.

Santa Cruz Island hosts the largest settlement in the Galapagos archipelago. Puerto Ayora, population 18,000. We spent the whole day on the island visiting various sites. First of these was the Charles Darwin Research Station. This is an interesting place that principally conducts scientific research and environmental education for conservation. The Station has a team of over a hundred scientists, educators, volunteers, research students, and support staff from all over the world. We skipped past much of this stuff and were taken straight to the tortoise sanctuary.

In the sanctuary, in fenced off areas, were baby tortoises, adolescent tortoises and great big tortoises. They can live to be well over 100 years old and weigh over 400 kg. They are the largest terrestrial cold-blooded animal. Like the finches, they have diversified across the islands. Darwin’s observation of the differences was another contribution to the development of his theories. The tortoise nearly went extinct in the 20^th century as a combination of habitat clearance and exploitation. In particular, they were very useful on the ships of old. Before refrigeration it was difficult to keep food fresh on long voyages. Live animals were often taken but these still had the problem that they needed to be fed and watered. A tortoise, however, can survive for up to a year on its stored fat. The sailors of old would collect a rack of giant tortoises. They were not difficult to catch. Then each week they could crack open another tortoise for fresh meat. From an estimated 250,000 in the 16^th century, they were down to 15,000 in the 1970s. Elsewhere, giant tortoises, that were common in prehistoric times, have all gone extinct.

These days, the tortoises are doing much better. The introduction of goats was particularly bad for the tortoises because the goats ate all the vegetation. There are now very few goats in Galapagos but this did require some rather drastic action including the use of helicopters to hunt and shoot them. On Isabella island this accounted for some 150,000 goats by 2006.

A tortoise was spotted on Pinta island in 1971 that turned out to be the last remaining individual of a subspecies. They called him Lonesome George. For decades he was known as the rarest creature in the world. George serves as an important symbol for conservation efforts in the Galápagos Islands and throughout the world. He was relocated the sanctuary and a worldwide search was put in place to find him a mate. It never worked and in 2012 he died of natural causes. He was frozen, shipped to the USA, stuffed and, eventually, sent back again. We were shown the result of the taxidermy in a special room at the sanctuary. It is a big stuffed tortoise. I was not impressed but then I have always found taxidermy a bit revolting.

Sanctuary done, we went to a sugar cane farm. In quick succession we were shown how to press sugar cane. How to boil the resulting liquid down to molasses. How to ferment the molasses and how to make moonshine in a homemade still. This was all fairly interesting but the highlight was to try some of their hooch. The farm also grew cocoa beans. I spotted some pods growing on trees which is the first time I had actually seen cocoa pods growing. We also spotted an owl in the roof above the still. He seemed to be quite content keeping an eye on proceedings.

Final event of the day was the wild tortoises. Galápagos tortoises occur in different subspecies on the several of the Galapagos islands. We went to see an area where the Santa Cruz tortoises run around. Apparently they were all coming up from the coast because it was the mating season. When I say “run around”, it is kind of a relative term. Some of the tortoises did move but it would appear that you do not get to live to 177 by rushing around. Most of the day they eat grass. In the morning, they will stand up and move about half a metre forward. Then, after settling down again, they eat all the grass they can reach with their long necks in a semi-circle in front of them. After a short rest, they stand up and the process is repeated. Watching wild tortoises is interesting rather than exciting.

Punta Espinoza

At the north side of Isla Fernandina is Espinoza Point. This is where we found ourselves the next day. Landing sites in Galapagos are limited. You cannot just rock up anywhere you want and go ashore. You need a permit. You need to follow the rules. You need an official guide and you need to be off before 6pm. This is one of many reasons why, if you want to see the Galapagos, you need to sign up for an official tour. You will see the same things that everyone else does. You will visit the same places and be herded around in the same way. I think groups are coordinated so that only a few people get to visit each location at a time. Even so, if often did not feel at all like exploration but more like a park visit.

Fernandina is the youngest of the islands and last erupted in 2005. Our landing point was a narrow stretch of land famous for the hundreds of marine iguanas that hang out on the black lava rocks. There were a remarkable number of iguanas there. Ugly lizards that rarely seem to move. To help deal with the sea water they secrete concentrated salter water through their heads, so they often appear to have white heads. We also saw some flightless cormorants. Another species endemic to the Galapagos and the only species of cormorant to have become flightless. In the water were some sea lions. Or possibly Galapagos fur seals. By the time we left I had yet to work out the difference. The fur seals are not like the Antarctic fur seals but are actually a type of sea lion – which to me looked just like the other sea lions. Whatever, there were many young sea lions around playing in the water and generally being very cute.

We cut across a relatively young lava flow which was interesting for the cactus that had grown on it. In Iceland, a relatively new lava flow is indicated by grasses that are the first plants to take hold. Here, in a much warmer climate, it is a specialised type of cactus. There were a few blue footed boobies and brown pelicans. I also spotted a single yellow warbler in a bush. We also got shown the back bone of a whale that someone had carefully laid out on the rock. Not really sure what this was about.

This turned out to be a typical day in the Galapagos. Sail somewhere new. Go ashore. Look at animals. Back on board by 6pm. It was relaxing and fun. Also, in contrast to the other Hurtigruten vessels we had been on, the food was great. Proper tasty vegetarian food. Made us feel very happy.

Punte Vincente

An early morning start for the flight to Galapagos. The plane went via Guayaquil and we arrived at the Galapagos just after lunch. Short ride in a bus and then onto a RHIB to take us to our home for the next few days, the MS Santa Cruz II. This is one of the smaller vessels in the Hurtigruten fleet. A maximum of 90 passengers. Our cabin was small but comfortable. First thing I did was to flop onto the bed and think about having an afternoon nap. No chance. As soon as the new passengers were on board, the ship up anchored and sailed up to Punte Vincente at the north of Isla Isabella. As soon as we had finished lunch, the obligatory introduction to the ship and safety procedures we were off on a RHIB cruise.

The Galapagos is an archipelago of volcanic islands about 1,000 km off the coast of Ecuador. The islands are famous for their large number of endemic species. These were studied by Charles Darwin in the 1830s and inspired his theory of evolution. Ecuador won its independence from Spain in 1822 and formally claimed the islands ten years later. This was essentially unchallenged because nobody else really had any interest in the islands where it was reported that there were just some ugly animals. Today, Galapagos is primarily a tourist spot with about 300,000 visitors a year. Tourism is heavily controlled so as to preserve the ecology. Independent travel is difficult. Most tourists will join organised tours that are usually based on a ship. There are only 116 visitor sites in the Galápagos: 54 land sites and 62 scuba-diving or snorkeling sites. Small groups are allowed to visit in 2- to 4-hour shifts only, to limit impact on the area. All groups are accompanied by licensed guides.

The short cruise was followed by a landing and a walk. On the cruise we saw a remarkable variety of animals and birds. Now we saw even more including pink flamingos and several other birds that I completely failed to photograph. First thing I noticed as we approached the coast were the marine iguanas. Hundreds of them hanging out on the rocks with some very colourful crabs. The iguanas are cold blooded so they like to sit in the sunshine to keep themselves warm. Onshore we found a land iguana. Big brother to the marine type. He was easily a metre long. There are a lot of birds. Possibly most famous are the boobies. Blue footed boobies look faintly ridiculous especially when they do their mating dance. The routine is essentially about showing off their feet. We also saw a couple of Nazca boobies with their chicks. There was a solitary Galapagos penguin. This seemed very odd to me. It was clearly a penguin not too different from the Humbolt penguins we saw on the way to Antarctic. But this was the equator. What is a penguin doing here? I felt like telling it to go south back to the ice and snow. In fact, they live quite happily here. They are the only equatorial penguins and the only ones to ever be in the northern hemisphere. The equator passes through Galapagos so occasionally these little birds can wander, briefly, into the north.

Machu Picchu

Up at 4am for a quick breakfast before jumping into a minibus. The breakfast spread was very impressive. Sadly, at such an early hour of the day, my stomach had almost no interest in food. At 3,400 m the effects of altitude are not too severe. Some people might get a headache. Most people will feel a bit breathless and tired. I have been at altitude many times and always found the best way to deal with it was to get plenty of sleep. Hurtigruten had other ideas and we were finding the schedule brutal. Judging from the look of everyone else in the minibus, so were a few other people. The trip to the train station at Ollantaytambo station was almost two hours. Our guide talked without a break for the whole trip.

We queued a while for the train and were then guided to our allocated seats. The train journey to Aguas Calientes was considerably more pleasant than the minibus. Relatively smooth and with some increasingly interesting scenery. We were served coffee and a bread roll. The servers, two of them, then put on national costumes and did a play. I think that is what it was. We were sat at the end of the carriage looking the wrong way. I was mostly aware of them running up and down the gangway behind me.

At Aguas Calientes we were led out of the train station, across the road, and put into another queue for another minibus. The road up to Machu Picchu is a steep track with 14 switchbacks. It is steep, up to 27%, narrow and challenging especially in the rain. The road is listed at dangerousroads.org. It was raining but we made it to the top and the small carpark where a sign announced that we had finally arrived at Machu Picchu.

The Lost City of the Incas is considered one of the wonders of the world. A mountain citadel built in the 15^th century on a mountain ridge at 2,400 m in the Eastern Cordillera of southern Peru. There is some uncertainty about why Machu Picchu was built. The Incas had no written language so records are sparse. The site was abandoned in the 16^th century, possibly because everyone died of smallpox brought by travellers. It remained unvisited by Europeans until the 19^th century. Currently the leading theory is that Machu Picchu was a private city for Incan royalty. A holiday home on a grand scale. Back in the day, there would have been up to 750 people here working the land and supporting royal activities.

Hiram Bingham, a Yale lecturer, could easily have been the original Indiana Jones. Right down to the hat. In 1911, he explored the area looking for the lost capital of the Neo-Inca state. He was led to Machu Picchu by a villager, Melchor Arteaga. Bingham found the name of the Peruvian explorer Agustín Lizárraga and the date 1902 written in charcoal on one of the walls of the Temple of the Three Windows. Despite this disappointment, he led an expedition to Machu Picchu the following year and spent four months clearing the site which was heavily overgrown. The full scale of the citadel started to become apparent and over the next few years was excavated multiple times. Many of the significant artifacts ended up back in Yale and in his final version of the story, Lost City of the Incas (1952), Bingham claimed to have found the site himself.

From the carpark you can see very little. However, after presenting a ticket, you walk a short way round the shoulder of a hill and the entire site becomes revealed. It is very impressive. Terraces and walls and buildings and steps all set in the most amazing steep mountain scenery. The place is a massive tourist attraction, very crowded and highly controlled. Over a million visitors each year. Not only do you need to have a guide but the route around the ruins, one of several, is pre-booked. It was spectacular and interesting. It was also a bit of an ordeal because we were both desperately tired. It was difficult to summon any energy or enthusiasm. If you are planning on visiting, then I strongly suggest you check the proposed schedule and avoid this sort of Hurtigruten ordeal. Frankly, it just spoiled the experience.

The weather was a bit dull but I quite enjoyed watching the clouds swirling round the surrounding mountains. It rained a bit as well. This added suitably to our sense of dejection as we trapsed round after our guide. As my old English literature teacher used to explain “sympathetic use of nature”. We had lunch in the restaurant next to the carpark. It was pretty good and restored a small amount of energy. The bus ride back down the steep, slippery and narrow track gave me an extra jolt of adrenaline to further wake me up. We spent an hour or so in the souvenir shops of Aguas Calientes before the long return trip. Back at the hotel, we ate a minimal supper before collapsing into bed ready for the 6am start.

Two flights later we were in Quito, Ecuador. The Mariott hotel there is lovely but we had very little time to enjoy it. Dinner and bed was all we cared about. In the morning, which seemed to arrive far too early, we were bundled into a coach for a tour of the city. A succession of churches and old buildings went past my rather glazed eyes. There was a bit of a pause while a street parade went past. No idea what it was about but it was very loud and colourful.

Finally, we were then taken to a rather strange monument to equator. A sort of theme park which had a sense of being abandoned several years ago. Diane and I found a quiet bar here were we sneaked a glass of wine. This was not was not only very pleasant but helped me doze off on the coach back. Next day we were up early, again, to fly to the Galapagos Islands.

Cusco

From Buenos Aires we flew to Lima. A couple of days later we joined up with another Hurtigruten trip. This time to the Galapagos Islands. The complete itinerary included a visit to Machu Pichu. The trip began with a silly early morning, before 6am, for a flight. Cusco, the ancient capital of the Inca Empire, is now listed as a UNESCO world heritage site. It took our breath away. Literally. At 3,400 m the altitude was a bit of a shock to the system. It is quite a place in many other ways as well. The centre is a crushed together hotch-potch of buildings. Some very old and others looking like they had been slapped together yesterday. Our hotel proved to be a rather lovely old building right in the heart of the city. Although we did not get much time to appreciate it.

After just enough time to drop our bags, we were off on a walking tour of some of the remains in the city centre. The Inca empire arose sometime in the 13^th century. It covered a vast tract of what is now Peru, Ecuador and Chile and ruled some 12 million people. In 1532 the empire came to a crashing end when the Spanish invaded. Cusco was the Inca capital. Today many remains of Inca buildings can be found. We wandered around a couple of the main sites. As usual, when looking at Inca ruins, I wondered about how they made the big blocks of stone fit together. It is not magic or aliens but it is an awful lot of hard work. The walls all lean in slightly and use rounded corners and trapezoidal doorways. The stone blocks are fitted together without mortar. The facing surfaces often have a hidden protrusion that fits into a corresponding hole. A little like Lego blocks. The result is incredibly earthquake proof. During a small or moderate earthquake, the masonry is stable. During strong earthquakes, stone blocks have been observed “dancing” and settling into their original positions afterwards. This is one reason so many of the ruins remain today. Some of the very best walls have blocks which are perfectly square and horizontal – remarkable.

Next, we were bundled into a coach and taken to a carpet shop. Not really a carpet shop but I was reminded of the way that in Morocco, any tour would inevitably take you to the guide’s brother’s carpet shop – “just for looking”. Here we were in a textile museum which also had a large shop of textile products adjacent to it. There were also some llamas and guinea pigs that I talked to for a while. I was reminded of the fact that in Peru, guinea pigs are not pets.

Another short drive took us to Sacsayhuamán. These are the remains of one or more fortresses on a hill (3,700 m) overlooking Cusco. After the Spanish invasion, much of the rock from these forts was taken to use as building material. Only the largest blocks, too large to move, remain. However, there are still an awful lot of these and entire site is very impressive. It was raining. Heavily at times. This did make for a rather soggy visit although some of the views with cloud and sun were quite dramatic.

Back at the hotel, we did a historic tour of the hotel That was very boring although a presentation of an Inca ceremonial routine was fun to watch. Then came a presentation of how to make Pisco Sour, the Peruvian national drink. Moderately interesting and we got to drink the cocktail when it was finished. Finally, to bed. Very early, breathless and tired knowing that we would be up at 4am.

Iguazu

The Iguazu falls on the border of Argentina and Brazil are the largest waterfalls in the world. The highest part, known as the Devil’s throat, is some 80 m wide and about as deep. The falls have featured in many films including Indian Jones, James Bond and Captain America. Understandably the falls are a bit of a tourist attraction. Controlled access is from both the Brazilian and Argentinian sides.

We arrived at the border city of Puerto Iguazú in the evening. The area is classified as Humid sub-tropical and surrounded by rainforest. Our hotel, the Mercure, was rather pleasingly set in a forested area outside the city. Our room on the second floor had a balcony that looked straight into the jungle. We could sit there and watch parrots, monkeys, lizards and many types of bird. Early evening a few fireflies came out. Brilliant.

Once upon a time, the Iguazu falls were deep in the jungle. Remote and difficult to access. Now they are part of a theme park. In some ways this reminded me of the remarkable Postojna cave in Slovenia. A magnificent natural phenomena that has been harnessed and tamed and turned into an item in a display case. In each case, millions of dollars have been spent to create a tourist attraction that will generate tens of millions of dollars. In each case, it feels to me, like much of the natural aspect has been lost. No doubt the owners will talk about preserving the environment and improving accessibility. They will point out that the tourists will come anyhow and there is a need for control. They will probably be less inclined to mention how much money they have made out of it.

Anyhow, we had no choice in the matter, so we queued to get into the carpark. Then queued to buy our entrance ticket, queued to get a train ticket and finally queued to board the train. Such is the joy of being a tourist. Two train rides later we started the walk along the raised footway to the Devil’s Throat. We had already passed innumerable cafes and souvenir shops. We’d also fought off people wanting to be our guide and those selling additional experiences such as boat rides. The footway was a bit of a pain because it was so crowded with people. Took us about half an hour to get to the viewing platform. Then another good ten minutes to actually get on the platform and to a position where we could see something. It was also very hot and humid. The net effect of all these factors pretty much meant I was ready to leave before we had finished arriving. But I persevered for the sake of a few photos. Fortunately, I am a bit taller than many of the people that were around us. Although I resisted the temptation to rest my telephoto lens on the head of the person pushing in front of me.

The park is arranged into a series of pathways that form loops. Each is an hour or two long. Having achieved the big ticket item, Devil’s Throat, we had a break for over priced coffee and a cheese empanada that turned out to have ham in it. You are encouraged not to feed any of the animals especially the persistent coati and monkeys. Many of the cafes have a caged area outside where you can eat in safety. Empanada in the animal proof bin, we managed to buy a soggy and tasteless mixed veg sandwich and then tackled another loop of raised walkways.

The second loop took us around some other parts of the falls. The walkways were as crowded as ever but some of the views were pretty good. The train back to the car park was especially crowded and required a queue of over half an hour. By the time we got back to the car we were both dragging our feet a bit.

Next day we had a choice. The original plan was to drive to the Brazilian side. This was starting to lose its appeal. A long drive and more queues. Staying with the Argentinian side was a shorter drive and we just had one more loop to walk around. We had started late and still felt tired from the day before, so we decided to stick with the devil we knew. This had the tiny bonus of a reduced entry fee. Not unsurprisingly, the day was much of the same. We kept it shorter and less demanding. The final, lower loop, possibly gave some of the best views of the weekend but the weather remained stubbornly hot and humid.

After our third night in the jungle hotel, we set off back to Buenos Aires. The drive was uneventful. The Argentinian company “Five Senses Travel” organised this trip for us and did an excellent job of it. Very friendly, helpful and knowledgeable. I would recommend them if you are ever out this way. Two hotels later we were at BA airport checking in our bags for the flight to Lima.

Esteros del Iberá

The hire car was a small Toyota. It was adequate and easy to drive. We headed north away from the conurbations of Buenos Aires and out into the countryside. This part of our trip had been organised by a company called “Five Senses Travel” https://fivesensestraveller.com/ . We like to be able to explore on our own a little. Sometimes organised tours are just all about an idea of what tourists want to see. Tourists want to visit tourist attractions. Well, sometimes. Often, we really enjoy seeing the ordinary towns and countryside. Seeing how people live, what they grow, how they go about their daily lives. Getting to know a country rather than just focusing on the spectacular and unusual. Driving can be a wonderful way to do this. We had a couple of weeks. We wanted to drive around Argentina a bit and we wanted to visit the Iguazu waterfalls – which are a tourist attraction. Five Senses put together an itinerary which started with Soledad, our guide in BA and ended back at the airport ready for the next leg of our journey. The first part was just a few hours driving to Concepción del Uruguay – which is not in Uruguay but is on the river that borders Uruguay. We found a nice beach by the river.

Two days later we arrived at a hotel in a swamp. El Transito Hotel Boutique is right in the middle of the National park of Esteros de Ibera. Wikipedia describes this area as a mix of swamps, bogs, stagnant lakes, lagoons, natural slough, and courses of water. We were not too sure what to expect. Getting there involved some off-road navigation. The little Toyota struggled a little but what really grabbed my attention was the large variety of birds sat on the fences and posts by the roadside. We arrived mid-afternoon at the hotel which was set in the middle of an immense and carefully mowed area of grass. Rheas were running around to one side and we also saw a fox.

After a very welcome glass of wine, we were invited to go on a trip with a boat and horse to see the sunset. Sounded fun so they equipped us with rubber boots and off we went in a land cruiser. Ten minutes away we hopped out of the car and our two guides led us past a wooden house and through some muddy bog to a small boat. Here we met a very strong and capable looking man dressed in the style of a gaucho. He got the four of us into the small boat and then pushed it for a few minutes along a water channel. He left us there for a short while and then reappeared on his horse which he tied to the front of the boat.

Off we went. Me, Diane and two guides in a small boat being pulled by a man on a horse. The water got deeper but the horse did not seem to care and plodded on with water sloshing around the saddle. It was a delightful way to travel and felt quite in tune with the surroundings. We pushed through narrow, weed choked channels and through small pond areas. Our gaucho, or at least his horse, knew exactly where to go and where was safe to walk. Half an hour or so of this brought us to a wooden hut with a table, an immense old tree and a lovely view. Our guides magicked up some coffee and cakes while we lazed around and took in the vista. The trip back was similar but with the addition of the perfectly timed and spectacular sunset. Dinner was waiting for us on our return. Excellent home cooked food and a glass of wine. It was starting to look like life in the swamp was not too bad.

9am in the morning we were breakfasted and ready to go. A short drive in a different direction took us to our waiting horses. Neither of us have any equestrian inclinations at all but we had been assured that this was not a problem. They had even brought some steps to help us mount. The horses turned out to be very placid and ideally suited to slightly nervous complete beginners. Two different guides this morning. Neither of whom spoke any English. This did not cause a problem fortunately. The essential message was clear. Get on the horse and follow them. We were in a different part of the wetlands now. Far less of the tall grass that we saw the previous night. It was still swamp though. We set of down a dry track but within a few hundreds of metres our horses were clip, clopping through water. From the higher vantage point of being on horseback we could see more birds and wildlife. Just after we set off there was a Capybara. These are large rodents. The largest of all rodents. A bit like giant, short haired Guinea Pigs but weighing in at 50 kg or more.

We plodded through the swamp for an hour or so. It was lovely. Peaceful and relaxing. At one point the water go deeper. We ended up with water at saddle height. The horses did not seem to mind and stayed gratifyingly sure foot even in a metre or more of water. Eventually, we ended up at a place way out in the middle of the swamp. Almost completely featureless. Flat and wet and swampy in all directions. There was not really any point in getting off here so instead we turned around and headed back. I enjoyed the ride but was also happy to get back. My legs were just starting to tell me I had sat on the horse for long enough.

After a very pleasant and relaxed lunch back at the hotel, I set off to photograph some of the wildlife that was running around outside. A fox was the first thing I found. Apparently, several families live close to the hotel and you need to be careful about leaving things outside. They have a liking for stealing shoes. The hotel swimming pool proved to be ideal twitching country. There were some herons here standing very still. The pool is natural spring water, so I imagine the lack of chlorine makes it more inviting for the birds. I also spotted a couple of small birds that I needed to identify later. I am far from being a proper bird nerd so anything I don’t recognise; I look up with Google Eye later. This almost certainly gets some of the birds wrong. Sorry, I tried. Final birds for the after lunch spot were some Rheas. Immense great ostrich like birds running around on the lawn.

Next trip was on a pontoon boat. Two hulls with a large, circular sofa on top and an engine. Very comfortable for cruising round a swamp. Almost as soon as we set off, we spotted a caiman. A large and rather scary looking alligator type thing. First, we spotted them lying around on the bank but then later we saw them in the water. They can sink low in the water so that just their eyes and nostrils are about the water. I was glad we had not encountered any caiman while we were on horseback. We cruised for about an hour. It was fascinating. There were so many different types of birds that I found it hard to keep up with them. We also spotted a large, male marsh deer and loads more capybara.

Eventually we arrived at a large open area close to a densely forested island. Here we stopped the motor and floated around for a while enjoying the sights and sounds. Once again, our guide brought out some food and coffee. Little cakes and cassava bread with cheese. Everything was orchestrated around the sunset. The sun played its part magnificently and we were treated to colourful orange skies as we headed homeward. We arrived back at the little quay just after the sun had dipped below the horizon. From there it was just a short drive back to the hotel and another excellent home cooked meal. On the way we spotted some very young capybara with their mother.

Next morning I spotted a great big lizard on the way to breakfast. An Argentine black and white tegu I later discovered. A good metre long. He was not particularly disturbed by me and carried on looking for his breakfast while flicking out his long, forked tongue. We did eventually leave and took a leisurely drive back along the track while I tried to photograph some of the birds by the roadside. These included a Caracara bird, an owl, several finches and an egret.Back on to tarmacked roads and we set a course for the Iguazu waterfalls.

Buenos Aires

We were bundled off the Amundsen early on a Thursday morning and by the evening we were settled into our hotel in Buenos Aires. Next day I spent a lot of time uploading files. The internet provision on the Amundsen is a bit limited. My specific problem was that I could not back up my photographs. This was a bit of a concern and I was much more comfortable later on when everything was safely copied away. That done, we went for a stroll. Buenos Aires is a big, modern bustling city. We are not connoisseurs of cities but we quite liked BA. After a bit of pottering around we ended up in a street café. Here we could drink wine while different couples danced tango on the pavement.

Next morning we met up with Soledad, our guide for the day. She took us on a six-hour walking tour of BA. It was not six hours of continuous walking. There were a couple of coffees as well. Even so, it was long and informative day.

We saw an awful lot of BA. There is a great diversity of architecture much of which is inspired by Europe. Some areas are very similar to Paris and Madrid. Elsewhere are some very modern buildings and bridges. We walked through a lot of history. The war of independence from the Spanish, numerous skirmishes with the English, Portuguese and others. More recently came various revolutionary movements, the 1976 coup, the dirty war and the silent marches of the mothers of the 30,000 desaparecidos (people kidnapped and killed by the military during the years of the junta). We steered clear of any mention of the Falklands although we saw many signs proclaiming “Las Malvinas son Argentinas”.

Soledad was remarkably informative. I paid attention as best I could but please don’t ask me questions later. The weather was perfect. Warm without being too hot. We wandered through several parks and everywhere the jacaranda trees were blooming with bright purple flowers. Coffee was taken at a fabulous old building with dark wood panelling, marble floors and gold inlaid plasterwork. We visited a tourist area. Shops selling fridge magnets and scarves, many burger stalls and more street tango. Several churches, city squares and a river later we got to the end of our walk by which time Diane and I were plenty ready for a glass of cold wine.

Next day we collected a hire car and set off for the famous Iguazu waterfalls.

Deception Island

Our last day in Antarctica. We had landed on some islands, landed on mainland Antarctica, landed on sea ice and cruised round icebergs in a RHIB. Some had camped out in Antarctica. All the boxes were ticked. For many this is the long and short of Antarctica. They have the t-shirt and in future travel conversations they will say that they have done Antarctica. Of course, they haven’t. Not even close. Antarctica is not a small island, not even a country, it is an immense continent. The world’s fifth largest continent. As big as the USA, bigger than Europe and twice as big as Australia. It is immense and complex with many different terrain types, weather systems and environments. Admittedly, most of the environments are cold by human standards but that does not detract from the diversity. For much of the year travel is impossible. The only way to get to know Antarctica is to go there and stay there. Possibly for years. So, while there are some people that can undoubtably say that they know Antarctica, a few that can honestly say that they have done it, they are very few and far between.

Many years ago, I experienced a little of Antarctica. It affected me profoundly and left me with a persistent urge to see more. I enjoyed my time with the British Antarctic Survey (BAS). I worked on some interesting projects and really liked the international spirit of cooperation in science. Despite this, I never had the right attitude or willingness to conform needed to be a long-term employee. This came to a head when I asked for three months unpaid leave. My friend Rik and I had been planning a climbing trip to Nepal for over a year. When I approached my boss about this, he said no. He had been looking for an excuse to get rid of me. Somehow, I always thought I would go back to Antarctica but not as a tourist. That route never appealed to me. The years rolled on, I built a company, sold it, retired and it dawned on me that being a tourist was my only route back. Our trip to Antarctica with Hurtigruten was similar to most tourist trips. A day or more sailing across Drake’s passage, a few days pottering around the peninsula and then back to Ushuaia. It was fun and scratched the itch. But only a little. I saw some parts of Antarctica that were new to me and it made me think about just how much more there was. Enough ruminating. This was our last day and we a job to do.

Deception Island is an active volcano in the South Shetland Islands. Its unique landscape comprises barren volcanic slopes, steaming beaches and ash-layered glaciers. It has a distinctive horse-shoe shape with a large flooded caldera. This opens to the sea through a narrow channel called Neptunes Bellows, forming a natural sheltered harbour. It is one of the only places in the world where vessels can sail directly into the centre of a restless volcano. We arrived at the Bellows mid-morning. The weather had not improved at all and remained stubbornly overcast. The Bellows is an imposing entrance named after the way the wind can funnel between the rocks. We slipped through without problems and anchored in the bay.

The remains of several bases are spread along the shore. Whalers put up the first buildings later followed several scientific bases. BAS had quite a substantial base there for a while which included an airstrip and large hanger. In the years before 1970 there was substantial volcanic activity which led to the island only being used during the summer months. The Argentinians and Spanish still retain a presence although the main use for the island these days is tourism.

We were landed on the black beach and allowed to walk along the shore. In places the sand steams with geothermal activity. There were a few gentoo penguins and some very sleepy fur seals. At the end of the beach was a track across a snow field to shallow saddle. Queues of people were plodding up here and we joined the lines. At one point I stepped up higher to an easier looking trail and promptly got told off by one of the many expedition crew guarding the route. This was one of those times I had to try really hard to not say what going though my head. One reason to not cause a fuss what that, in keeping with the islands name, we had our own bit of deception to do in memory of my mother. She visited this area in 2018 with Diane. It is a long story but essentially mum wanted to come and see where I used to work and understand a little of why I talked about it so much. At the time, she did not like Diane and clearly felt that Diane and I should not be together. Practicalities dominated however and Diane was the only available travel companion. Fortunately, they came back the best of friends and burbling about penguins. They remained firm friends until Polly passed away last year. The ridge overlooking the ocean in one direction and the beach in the other seemed an appropriate place to take a moment to remember her. A vista of mountains, glaciers, icebergs, seals and penguins. Helen, you would have approved.

Back to the beach. Back to the RHIB. Back to the ship and two days later, back to Ushuaia. It was a jolt. After 94 days on the Amundsen, we were suddenly standing in a queue at the airport with our suitcases. It had been a good trip. Some parts were fantastic. Other parts less so but overall, terrific. What next?

Booth Island

The Lemaire Channel was blocked by icebergs, so we needed to back-track a short distance before turning into French Cove at Booth Island. Next morning I found it had been snowing through the night. The decks were closed for safety reasons. Snow and ice can be slippery. I recklessly sneaked out to get a couple of photos. It was quite nice to see the deck looking like we were actually in the southern oceans. The weather remained stubbornly dull and overcast. The scenery, however, was spectacular. Mountains, glaciers, sea ice, icebergs – I never get tired of this stuff. There was great excitement amongst the expedition team about the possibility of an ice landing. That is, a landing on the sea ice.

The RHIBs were launched and disappeared around a shallow headland. We were near the bottom of the list to go ashore. This meant waiting nearly two hours before we finally got off. Amongst the many strict regulations concerning tourist behaviour in the area is a limit to how many people can go ashore at one time. In this case it was not totally clear what ‘ashore’ meant. We arrived at the landing point and it was indeed onto sea ice. But this was sea ice literally right next to the edge of the land. I mean, you could easily have stepped from the ice onto the snow covered land. We were not allowed to do that. We were hemmed in by a cordon of cones marking and area about the size of a football pitch. This was the limit of our exploration. I have been on sea ice many times and can honestly say this was the most boring. It was nice to get off the ship, get a breath of fresh air and see some more penguins. But that was about it. Nonetheless, the expedition team were doing their best to talk up the first sea ice landing of the year. To some people I guess it was a novelty and something special. For me, it once again underlined the massive difference between living and working in Antarctica and the fleeting touch that tourists are allowed.

We explored the football pitch for an hour. Well, we wandered around, chatted and took a few pictures. That sort of exploring. Then it was back to the ship for coffee and cakes in the Explorer Lounge. Life on the rugged edge of exploration.

Kodak Gap

Back in the day, when men were real men and cameras needed film, the Lemaire Channel was known as Kodak Gap. It has been famous amongst tourists since tourists first discovered its picturesque allure and pointed their Kodak Box Brownies at it. First traversed in 1898 by the Belgiums it was named after Charles Lemaire, a great explorer of the Congo. The Congo is in Africa. Equatorial Africa where it is always hot. The coldest place Charles ever explored was probably Brussels where they have the occasional frosty morning. In the early 20^th century, Charles was accused of abuse towards the native soldiers, and found guilty of mistreatment of the civilian population. He was demoted and retired in disgrace. Sailing up his channel is maybe not such an honour.

A far more worthy geographic naming came to my attention just a few weeks ago. Mike Rose joined the British Antarctic Survey about the same time that I did in the late 80s. We worked together for a few years and wintered at Halley Base. Unlike me, he stayed with BAS and recently, coincident with his retirement, had a mountain named after him. Mount Rose is in the South Shackleton range. Horribly inaccessible but a nice looking mountain and genuine honour. Congratulations Mike.

The weather perked up as we entered the Lemaire Channel. This narrow strait is almost compulsory for Antarctic tourist ships. Not only is it extraordinarily picturesque but also nicely sheltered from the generally agitated southern oceans. The strait is 11 km long, 600 m at the narrowest point and surrounded by steep rocky cliffs and precipitously hanging glaciers. The main navigation issue is that it can become blocked by icebergs. Especially early in the season. And this is exactly what happened. This did not detract from us spending several hours exploring the channel. Nearly everyone was up on deck. Some armed with cameras and binoculars. Other just gawping at the surrounding scenery. It was quite remarkable. In at least a few places, I think, if some of the hanging ice blocks or cornices had come loose then they might have hit the superstructure. Everywhere it was steep, snowy, icy, rocky and spectacular.

Several sea birds were around including the ubiquitous Cape Petrels and Kelp Gulls. A big, fat lazy Fur Seal was spotted draped over a bergy bit. Near the narrowest part of the channel, we came across two Orcas. I always find the Killer Whales amazing to watch. Such power and grace. They seemed completely unimpressed by our presence and made their way steadily along the channel. A couple of cormorants flew past. In the water a handful of Gentoo penguins frolicked. There were a few small penguin colonies. The sides of the channel are all a bit steep, so the colonies tended to consist of a landing place and line of penguins to a flatter area.

Paradise Bay

Brown Station is an Argentine base on the peninsular in a bay known as Paradise Harbour. It is a very pretty place with surrounding peaks and glaciers into the water. The base was established in 1951. It was a permanent base until 1984 when the doctor burned it down. He had been ordered to stay another winter and was not keen on the idea. The USS Hero rescued the base staff and took them to the US Palmer Station. Since then, the base has been used in the summer. This location is very popular with visiting tourist ships as it is one of the very few places they can command a landing on mainland Antarctic.

The weather was a bit dull and snowing when we arrived. Our group got to cruise in a RHIB while the first groups went ashore. Many, many rules apply to visitors in Antarctica. One of them is that only 100 people can be ashore at any one time. So, the first one hundred people desperate to say they had genuinely stood on Antarctica got to it, while we cruised around some icebergs. A snowy sheathbill landed on the front of the boat. It did not seem nervous at all and spent the rest of the trip trying to eat various parts of the RHIB. A few giant petrels were sat on the sea ice along with some cape petrels that got quite agitated when we got close to them.

Back onboard the Amundsen we did not have much time before we were off for the shore landing. Here there were many penguins. I don’t know how much of the summer Brown base is used for but just now, early in the summer, the penguins appear to have taken it over. These w gentoo penguins. Hundreds of them. They are terrific to watch. I keep saying this because it is hard to overstate just how much fun it is watch penguins. Their antics always seem a bit comic. On land they are ungainly little things that waddle around and fall over a lot. There is also sometime about their appearance that lends itself to anthropomorphism. If you see them in the ocean however, it is a very different story. They are like little missiles. Incredibly fast and manoeuvrable. Eventually we had to go back. Not because we had got bored but because we were told we needed to go back. The expedition team had laid out a 300 m trail that we had to stay on, and I don ‘t think I could have walked around it much slower.

That night, a few people wanted to not only get the ‘stepped foot on Antarctica’ t-shirt but also the one about sleeping there. So, they went ashore, with tents, and spent the night there. Did mention rules and tourists? One of them is that you should leave nothing. Really, nothing. So, the participants were all urged to use the toilet before they left the ship and given a pee-bottle each. They were also not allowed to eat. Dinner needed to be completed early, on the ship. And breakfast would also be taken on the ship. With the rules fully understood, the small group went ashore with tents, sleeping bags and water bottles. At 4am they were woken up and taken back to the ship. Somehow this all reminded me of when I used to find it exciting to sleep in a tent in the garden when I was 12. Although I was never charged €500 per person for the privilege.

Video by kind permission of Jessica Daniels