Sunday, December 8, 2013

Brothers GRIM

28th August, the last entry in the Purple book and the fact the gap has been so big has pretty much summed up this year so far. Despite the epicness of Peru and the challenge of the Ridgeway, it's been far from a vintage purple year with various problems with the family rightfully overshadowing any thoughts on writing new chapters in the book. December would finally start to get things back on track though with a delightful entry I'd been promising myself for a while...

At work around a month ago, Carol,  a teacher and ex-army PT instructor was trying to convince a couple of people to do a challenge up her neck of the woods over in Aldershot. The challenge was 'GRIM', an 8 mile slog over an army training ground. The location is used to test army 4x4 vehicles as it has a variety of hills, ditches and whatever you call something that's bigger than a puddle but smaller than a lake (I'll call them 'Luddle's' until I'm corrected). A friend of mine Sarah was already up for the challenge and knew i'd be up for it as well, it was obvious there wouldn't be a crowd of us doing it as we gained the usual looks of bafflement and befuddlement from everyone else! Sarah share this unique bond of being very distinctive in our sizes and having a passion for most things random and purple tinted. We've already done two Color Runs and an activity day together and would now be getting ourselves caked in mud. We were to be joined by Elizabeth, arguably the most awkward person I've ever met but always a delight to hang out with. She said she was up for the challenge as well so our team of three, the Ghetto Badgers, was good to go.

The closer we all got to Sunday 1st December the more apprehensive we became. When we all signed up the weather was mild and the date was still a few weeks ahead. The weather was now cold, our fitness was far from perfect and the videos of the water and mud from previous races  certainly wasn't helping. I had my usual training regime of basketball and kung fu once a week and nowt else. There are sports men and women and there is me. I will always happily suffer just for the day and ache up to a week afterwards to do such events rather than spend weeks doing that most loathsome of activities - exercise! I have seen jogging cause the dislocation of my friend's shoulder and the crippling of many more so will be having none of it thank you very much. If I do ever get into the London Marathon I'll have to find some other way of getting myself ready...

The morning of the first day of December arrived. I was designated driver for the day and first up was to collect Elizabeth who lives just around the corner from where we work. Being awkward as ever she needed an early pick up as she had not managed to register on the race like everyone else and took 10 minutes to get out of her flat. A good thing we all love her to bits! A few minutes down the road we picked up Sarah and made our way to Aldershot. We couldn't have asked for better conditions, clear skies, a cool temperature and no wind. We pulled into the venue and I started to recognise it from the Night Terror race the year before. The route would be different and much more challenging as the GRIM course is more treacherous and so inadvisable to complete it at night. This time though there would be no need to break any ice in the 'Luddles' like there was last year! We parked up and started to kit up. I had a head cam with me this year, someone had mentioned it would be a cool idea to have one for the event and I wished I'd got one sooner. We spent the hour or so before the race warming up and trying to work out how to switch the head cam on. I had no idea if it was on, how long the battery would last or how much the memory card would hold but it seemed to be doing it's thing so I tried to make sure it was pointing in the right direction and getting as much of the atmosphere as possible.

You could say the Ghetto Badgers were one of the more distinctive teams running that day. I doubt you would have found another group containing a 6 foot 6 skinny man, a short large girl and possibly the only black woman within 5 miles. Elizabeth spent the first few minutes looking for anyone else who wasn't right. She was right, not only did we only see a couple of other ethnicities that day it seems that usually only white Brits, Aussies and Americans are crazy enough to do events like GRIM! We did have plenty of weird looks as we made our way to the start line, I don't know which of the three of us had the most attention! It made a change from me getting all the glances though ;) That eventually stopped was we were among the masses. We could see the pros from the rest, the ones who had all the lycra, head bands and running tops and doing all the right stretches and exercises. They're always welcome to rush off ahead and get their record times, I kinda think they lose an essence of what the event is about as most people just love the thought of doing something daft and not what time they do it in. A few minutes to start time they had two enthusiastic girls, one with a mega phone doing the pre-race warm up. Sarah was happy enough until they started doing the star jumps, it was the first time Elizabeth had joined us for one of these so it was great to see her so up for the event. I had the camera turned off as I'm guessing any audience would have had vertigo watching everyone jumping up and down!

The race was just about to start, we had another warm up and another countdown and eventually they started the race. The camera was switched on, it was flashing so I guessed it was doing it's thing. The pre-match banter was about Elizabeth racing off ahead and we and Sarah bringing up the rear. As i'd done zero jogging training I had no idea what sort of pace i'd be doing and had stuck with Sarah on the two Color run's we'd done. It was clear after a while that the distance and terrain was going to be much more of a challenge than she'd expected so she stayed near the back and I went off ahead with Elizabeth. We came up to the first small bit of mud and that set everyone off. In all the races like this I've done the first sign of anything wet or mucky gets a reaction from people. A few of the blokes jumped through the puddles and kicked water over people with the chorus of "Run through every puddle". We were passed by the three wise men and some shepherds who called me their Jesus because of my face fuzz, a few super heroes and the cast of Baywatch also rocked past. There was a bloke in a wedding dress and all together way more people dressed up than there was for the night terror the year before where dressing up was encouraged. I was feeling a lot fitter than expected so stayed with Elizabeth who was setting a pretty good pace.

The course started off easy in terms of obstacles which of course was my Achilles heel. The reason I do events like this is BECAUSE of the obstacles. The obstacles are what make the event memorable and exciting and also offer a breather from the jogging itself which is my weakness. About halfway through the race though they started to introduce the 'GRIM' aspect of the course. The Luddles came thick and fast and got deeper as the race went on and the mud became thicker and more common. At one point the water came up to the top of my thighs, I remembered thinking if i'm having trouble getting through this stuff then how the heck is everyone else getting through it, especially our vertically challenged but horizontally unchallenged Sarah. In the deepest Luddle section of the rest there was a large group of people cheering us on. A group of them were also chucking small rubber ducks at us for some reason so of course I snuck one of them as a cool souvenir (yoink!). The marshalls were egging us on and having a right go if anyone took the easy option when faced with a water or mud section. It was great having a mixture of coy people trying anything to stay clean and the nutters doing the exact opposite. The water sections were easily the best part as they cleaned all the mud off your shoes and legs (even though you could hardly feel your toes afterwards!). Between miles 5 and 6 I was feeling knackered but managed to find something of a second wind after that. I wanted to catch up with Elizabeth who was a couple of minutes in front but in the end was happy enough were I was, the banter was great with the people I was running with especially the brother and sister team with the 'sibling rivalry' t-shirts.

Right at the end I was feeling knackered but eager to run across the line after the final water section. I'm no athlete, and times mean nothing to me but when you are surrounded by the same group of people near the end of the race it's always great to finish ahead of them, especially when 3 of them had t-shirts saying 'I run like a girl, keep up' ;) We all had timing chips around our ankles and a nice touch about this race was the fact the guy at the finish mentioned everyone's name as they crossed the line so I waved my arms in the air when I heard my name. I couldn't find Elizabeth so darted straight to the car to quell the inevitable pain that I knew would be on its way. I'd finished the race without any incident but knew what was coming; whenever my knees get cold and wet they always end up in pain. The adrenalin of the race eventually wore off and, as expected, painful knee syndrome popped up. A quick change of clothes and frantic knee drying got rid of the worst of it, as soon as I was dry I went on the look out for Elizabeth as I knew Sarah wouldn't finish for a while to come. I found Liz rapped in foil at the finish, she'd finished a minute or two in front and was obviously competitive and she was unhappy with her time and was already discussing smashing the time next year. We waited at the finish line waiting for Sarah, plenty of people came and went but still no sign of her. A few minutes of stragglers but still no Sarah. Eventually, a very tired and muddy looking Sarah staggered towards the finish. She still had the final water section to go through and was in no rush to go anywhere. Elizabeth had a word with the guy with a Microphone and ensured she got a great reception when she crossed the line. She was head to toe in muddy water, with a big tear over her leggings where she'd obviously tripped up somewhere. She had no idea she's cut her knee until Elizabeth told her. We all limped back to the car got changed and took Sarah back to the first aiders who padded up her knee, nothing too serious although the advice of "go to the doctor if you experience any flu type symptoms didn't help".

A fantastic day. The weather was perfect, i'd done a great event i'd been meaning to experience and document for a while and done it with two people who are fast becoming great friends. We'd all seen Carol, the woman who had given us the idea, a few minutes into the race and she'd taken our pictures. The head cam was a great success, i'd heard it bleeping at me around mile 7 so reckoned that a) there was a good chance it had worked and b) that noise was it switching itself off. The following day everyone was eager to hear how it went. Most people are aware of my purple antics and this time it was even better as three of us were involved in it. Sarah who had been through the worst of it diring the race had the last laugh. Finishing the race after most people has it's advantages. The official race pictures of me and Elizabeth were at best average but all of Sarah's were perfect! Stood alone covered in mud the camera man must have had a field day with her and it is pictures like these which make it all worth while. It's the question most people ask with events like GRIM "Why on earth would you want to do something like that?" When most people were running on auto pilot on that Sunday doing normal everyday things, we were having a great time doing something so different. When we look back on pictures like Sarah's we are reminded that there is something more to life than the rat race and in my case it's the book that has been re-opened by GRIM.

 
Rossifer x

Results: -
The winner - 43 minutes 28 seconds (show off!)
Elizabeth - 1 hr 26 minutes 28 seconds
Rossifer - 1 hr 27 minutes 44 seconds
Sarah - 2hr 11 minutes 46 seconds

Just in case the video's don't link up properly, here are the links: -

Pre-race banter - https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152384843294409&l=2363459057693914830

Wet wet wet - https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152393493539409&l=4988751006731009943

Bring on the mud - https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152393527524409&l=2478416107983444411

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Jenko & The Bear walk the Ridgeway

August, usually a delightful month in the sense it is usually spent completely away from work for all but Saturdays with only the odd day spent doing timetables and exams. Mornings last an hour or two with late risings and afternoons spent planning which pages of the Purple Book to fulfil next. This year would prove differently. I remembered thinking as Big Ben sounded a second after 23:59:59 December 31st 2012 that Peru would be the only thing to look forward to in 2013 and unfortunately I've been proven half right. The first half of the year passed without much drama but soon after things started to take a turn for the worse on both sides of the family. August, contender alongside December for the year's greatest month was turning into the worst month of our lives. The one thing that would get us away from all the misery would be a big family event, in this case a sponsored walk to raise money for Al the Legend's charity MNDA. The Ridgeway, reportedly Britain's oldest road would give us 6 days from everything and everyone and give us something positive to focus on.

Going back at least 5,000 years, the Ridgeway stretches from Overton Hill near Avebury to Ivinghoe Beacon beyond Tring and was used right back to our Prehistoric ancestors. Mum had come up with the idea of walking it as I was looking for the next big thing for my birthday. The 3 peaks challenge was proving a bit too big for the other two so the Ridgeway seemed a bit more manageable with the added bonus of it being local so people could join us on the way. The training for the walk began months in advance. I had Peru booked and was getting ready for that and Dad was starting to realise that doing the walk in jeans, trainers and cotton socks wasn't really going to cut it. Doing Peru had helped my trekking experience no end. The thing about going on walking expeditions is that you learn something new every time. Peru had taught me about walking techniques and hydration and the Pennine Way before that gave me invaluable lessons on brining the correct kit. In a role reversal it was the son giving his father advice and despite the odd bit of sarcasm he seemed to be taking it all in. The first time you go for a 'proper' walk you soon realise it is much harder than a simple walk down the local shops. Dad started to do practise walks every Sunday to break his new shoes in and more importantly to get his feet and limbs ready for what was to come. A lifetime doing sport means nothing if you're doing something your body has never experienced, in some ways it makes it worse as you have to use specific muscles and joints in ways you've never had to before.

After all the months of training and planning it was suddenly time to go. Naturally with Mum driving the car we had plenty of everything we could possibly need (except leg room sat in the back seats! ;) ). We'd been joined by Sheila, Mum's friend she met whilst volunteering as Games Makers in the Olympics last year. Mum was still in a dark place after all that had happened with all the relatives and Sheila was perfect in keeping Mum distracted as well as cheering me and Dad on. She joined us on all but one day when we were joined by my favourite Godparents along with Brad and Ni.

Day 1 saw us driving to Avebury and Overton Hill, start of the Ridgeway. The first day was spent on the route's gentle introductory walk; a mere 9 miles with only one average hill to walk up and pretty easy ground conditions on the whole. After a few minutes we were joined by Al the Legend, Chris, Vicky, Phil and baby Joseph. Ever since Al did his walk in Forbury park that time and thus earning his legendary status me and Dad have been looking for suitable events to honour him and his effort on that day. Short of walking to the moon and back we'll never top his day, and rightly so. We all took a few promo pics, which will undoubtedly end up in a newsletter somewhere, and where then waved off with yours truly having to quickly dash back to get my hiking sticks, the very ones I credit with getting me through Peru in one piece. The walk was a mirror image of the first practise walk for most of it, the only addition was leaving our mark on a handily placed whiteboard a mile or two into the route. The views were unchanged, we'd passed people on bikes, horseback and motor bikes. We did meet one girl on route though who unexplainably decided to topple into a puddle right in front of us. Being the gentleman that I am not only did I rush straight over to help, I waited a good few seconds after passing her before me and the old one burst out laughing ;)

Day 1 also started the tradition of non-events on the walk when it came to land marks. What looks like the world's biggest tree from afar is merely a group of trees creating an optical illusion, 'the' white horse is one of seven which you can't see on the route and Barbury Castle is nowt but a few hills and a hole in the ground, I felt a bit cheesed off after going up the one steep hill on the day to be greeted by a glorified bunker covered in grass. After the confined tracks at the start of the day we walked out onto vast fields with great views of the 'rolling countryside' so famed in the area. The problem with said countryside is that you soon become blasé about it. With no trees, mountains, lakes, corners or landmarks you find yourself faced with the same views you saw half an hour ago. I have to say I felt this way about the first 3 days of the trek with regard to the views. Unfortunately after the easy going first day things started to get much trickier.

Day 2, directly across the road from where we'd ended day 1 but a world apart. This would be a common theme throughout the walk, every day brought with it a completely new walk. Over the road we were faced by a sudden, steep hill on much rockier terrain. The easy going underfoot from the previous day had been completely changed with loose stone and hardened mud. The old one had to slow me down several times as I tried to canter off ahead. We originally had 12 miles down as the target for the day but would later have a shock on our hands. In a way we were also against the clock. The afternoon involved getting arrangements sorted out for Granddad's funeral with the other two Sutton girls so time was of the essence. Dad had with him a pedometer of sorts which he was using to pace his journey. he reckoned he had a certain number of steps for every mile he walked and thus used this to judge how far we'd progressed every day. Unfortunately this seemed to be playing up on day 2, There's only so many times I could have heard 'should only be a mile more to go' before blowing a fuse, especially after having a disagreement with some nettles growing by a map on the route. When we eventually got to the end of the stage we were knackered, with good reason. After day 3 I did some research and found that instead of doing 12 miles non stop we'd done just over 16 on hard terrain. On the plus side we'd still gotten back in time to deal with Granddad's funeral. A memorable part of that was whilst looking for a jacket to bury him in. Glyn picked up one of them, had a quick look through the pockets and found a receipt from her, dated 7 years to the day. Call it fate or a sign depending on which side of the fence you stand, it certainly brought us closer together at that moment.

Day 3, no time restraint especially as it was the first big day 16 miles (or so we thought). It was Sheila's turn to drive and she did so in her swanky convertible car. The bucket seats in the back were great to ride in but a bugger to get in and out of. She wasted no time in getting to our starting point. Doing 80mph in one of our cars feels very fast indeed but is effortless in a sporty VW. This day was by far the worst of the trip for me. The previous day we'd had Wayland Smithy and another white horse to look at (and we actually got to see both this time!) this day had no such niceties to look at. Add to that a hot day with very little protection from the heat and a hard chalk road which had been churned up after years of pedestrian and vehicular use. It was great at lunch though, our first actual break as we'd simply eaten on route before and we were joined by Aunt Norm and Great Uncle Cyril (as well as some random guy with some homing pigeons). Mum had brought us lunch, a frozen bottle of squash and a parasol to sit under. Annoyingly, straight after lunch my Achilles in both heels started to play up with every step being really painful. Needless to say at this point I was starting to get well and truly fed up of the walk. I needed things to change very quickly and luckily enough, they did. Despite being knackered and damn near crippled we ended up at the Bull at Streatley. The sight of tea and ice cream was a delight, with the added bonus of meeting and old friend from school who was working at the Bull. He couldn't believe how much i'd grown and I couldn't believe how much he hadn't (mind you everyone looks small to me!).
As I hobbled back to the car in my post walk flip flops this had been a much needed boost. The other had come earlier on when I was greeted by a random group of walkers. They saw mine and Dad's charity T-shirts and asked me about why we were walking. After telling them about 'Mandy' (Mum's nickname for the charity) and The Legend they gave me £10 in sponsorship. Ralph and Anne, a big thanks to you both and also to my guardian if you exist and made it happen.

A quick aside just in case you think I've started bible bashing. Far from being religious, I've always been very straight minded when it comes to anything supernatural; too many quacks and fraudsters out there and i'm having none of it. There have been however a few times on epic purple book events, most noticeably Find the bridge parts I and II, where I've had interventions at times where I've been closest to giving up and needed help the most. I can't explain it and quite frankly don't want to. As with most things i'll remain postimistic about it all, expect nothing and except everything new and good that comes my way. Moving on...


Day 4, good in so many ways. Slightly cooler weather, breeze blowing, walking close to the river and off course being joined by My favourite godparents and grandkids Brad and Ni. David had his best jeans on, Buncy her trail finder trainers but it was Ni who was best dressed in short shorts and converse shoes. If there's the slightest hint of sarcasm sensed in this paragraph it's purely accidental... Mind you David did accuse me and the old one of showing up in fancy dress. I have to admit we did look like Bear Grylls and Ranulph Fiennes after raiding a hat shop. Dad came up with the idea of a different hat for both of us each day. The promise was of a short, gentle walk for the group before stopping for lunch and me and the old one doing another 9 - 10 miles. The lunch stops for the days was something of a mystery to us each day. Despite all the planning we were never sure on what time we'd get to each venue or how easy it was to drive there so had to stay in regular contact on the phone. The walk was brilliant. Great views, soft underfoot, plenty of shade and great company. The pace was also spot on as well. Days 2 and 3 had come close to breaking the pair of us, especially after finding out we'd misjudged the distances. We'd seen a sign two miles from the end of the previous day telling us we were approaching half distance. After doing a spot of research that evening I calculated we'd done around 6 miles more than planned which really helped to get our spirits up.

The slow pace helped my heels and the soles of Dad's feet to recover. We'd also started to walk through my personal favourite, woodland. I guess i'm living up to what Dad's always feared from me in turning semi-hippyish, with good reason for our trip. Woods meant shade, soft ground and of course beautiful and varied views. The mood started to change though as the topic of where we were stopping for lunch came up. With the usual uncertainty of our stop we walked a little further, and a little further again. I could tell Dad was getting nervous as he darted off in front to see where Mum was. The group's pace had also quickened at this point as our fellow walkers were beginning to feel the pinch. At one point Brad and Ni were close to refusing to take another step. Eventually though we saw the silver Focus and a row of folding chairs laid out for us. We sat and had lunch and then me and Dad left everyone to it. I'm told Brad and Ni both fell asleep on the car journey back, so much for the energy and exuberance of the youth ;) The two of us strided off and quickly found a new rhythm which had been lacking from the previous two days. Later on we came to our first problem when it came to directions. The Ridgeway is noticeable for it's near perfect signage. Whereas the Pennine Way is merely strewn with the odd cairn here and there (piles of rocks to you and me) the Ridgeway had proper signs, black signs with clear white writing and an acorn symbol. It is this symbol which we started to rely on from day 4 onwards. We reached Nuffield and found ourselves flummoxed. Where were the signs? We'd later find out that golf courses and the bigger settlements on the route are very snooty about this sort of thing and don't want to advertise the fact any Tom, Dick or Harry (or Ross or Paul) can walk through. We were faced with a country road going two ways, a nettle strewn path or entrance to a golf club. The locals seemed baffled as to the paths route (also a common theme) so we tried in the golf club. A couple of helpful members guided us through the course which involved following various wooden posts all showing the acorn symbol which went across several fairways. We hopped across looking out for any stray balls flying through the air and followed the route Mum had given me over the phone. A few more miles after that and it was the end of the day's trek.


 
Day 5. Starting the day with just the two of us and feeling relatively fresh we motored off towards Wendover where we'd be spending the night. As well as passing what seemed like the umpteenth 'White House' we knew we'd also be walking alongside Chequers, official holiday shack of Sam Cam and the PM. Day 4 had really turned things around for me as I was loving the walk. The scenery for the day was the best we'd seen so far in my book. As well as lovely forests we also walked through crop fields where I took my favourite shots. I had this image of the start of the great novel 'Of Mice and Men', i'll leave you to decide which one of us it George and which one is Lenny... Despite being a much easier day than days 2 and 3 it gave us the biggest challenges. Be sure that Dad won't be forgetting the name of the steepest hill of the route, Brush Hill was pretty epic in its continuous steepness, we both needed a breather after that one! Despite a bit of dodgy signage we eventually made it to our overnight stop. Wendover is a delightful little place, even if the locals appear a bit vague at times. The Red Lion Hotel would have appeared luxury after our efforts even if it was a 2 star haven but it was that and more. The great looking rooms ticked the 4 boxes i'd been hoping for; Shower, bed, kettle and TV. Within minutes of arriving it was bliss. The cup of tea, despite having a pretty rank blend in it still went down a treat, the shower felt like getting caught in a perfect rain storm, the bed felt great and it was Man vs Food on the telly, bliss. Mum brought in another frozen bottle of orange, dinner was ham, eggs and chips and after a spot of Big bang theory and 101 things removed from the human body on the box it was time for sleep.  


Final day. Breakfast at the hotel where the old one called me a tart for choosing pancakes and syrup for breakfast. As it was my birthday I promptly told him to do one and would later berate him after he complained his full English brekkie was threatening to pop back up to pay him a visit. As well as loving the idea of pancakes and syrup for breakfast and never being ar$ed to do them myself, I'd had them in New York so was remembering another great birthday which I hoped this one would be. After getting a bit lost at the start of the day 6 trek we eventually found the route again. We'd asked 3 elderly women and a rather nice looking resident in a nightdress who all seemed clueless as where to go but we sorted it in the end. Getting lost turned into a theme for the day as later on we'd find ourselves lost twice more, going half a mile out of our way at one point. Day 6 had the most memorable sections to it for me. Dad had told me of two of his four great fears. We didn't come across any frogs or rats on the route but in the same day were faced with a stampeding group of white faced sheep (who knew!) and a footbridge over a main road.

The sheep scenario was Ok as he had me with him (bless!) but it was a case of a bridge too far when crossing the A41. While I wanted to look over the side and take pictures I was ordered to keep talking to him and walk VERY slowly right in the middle with him holding onto my backpack! It was after that we missed one of the usual black signs and walked a while in the wrong direction and had to double back. On the same day we came to our lunch stop in Hastoe, a tiny village with a touch of quirkiness I always love. It didn't go down well with the old one when we had to double back to meet up with Mum and Sheila after mis-judging the stop point. We were quickly bundled into the back and drove down to road to the lunch point. Shortly after that, my favourite part of the walk through Tring Park. This was by far the most beautiful forest we'd been through with huge trees. We were also within single figures for miles to our destination. We eventually reached Aldbury Nowers which is the entrance to Ivinghoe Beacon. The long gradual climb up to the top gave us our final glimpse of the great scenery which now took on more significance as we reached the end of the trip. At the end it was not the welcome we'd planned with all the games makers and the like, just a group of mates who we asked to take our pictures. It did help that the girl taking our pictures was completely stunning so every cloud and all that.
Mum phoned us up at that point as she was in the car park a short walk back from the finish point. Me and Dad walked back and were eventually joined by my favourite godparents and The Legend and his clan. It was great to have everyone there who had supported us the most during the trip and it was brill to hear of all the donations pouring in which we're so grateful for. At the time of writing this we're around the £1,700 mark which I think is pretty epic considering none of us belong to any big businesses. The others may be upset not everyone replied to the begging letters but i'm so happy with the amounts coming in from those who have given, seriously generous stuff so a huge thanks to everyone whose helped us.

A big congrats to the old one for completing what he's calling his very own Peru. Despite falling over in that ditch (forgot to mention that bit...) he got through the walk relatively injury free which isn't bad considering he's in his 60s. A big thanks to our great support crew in Mum and Sheila. Yes they may have been sipping tea and eating ice cream at certain times while we were trekking out in the later 20s on hard ground but they were always there to keep us going and look after us after each day. A year's break until the next biggie which will probably be the Bath to Reading walk I've been promising myself for a while now. So many walks and ideas, so little time. As long as Al the Legend draws breath and continues to inspire i'll do whatever it takes to help his charity out. As for the Purple Book, another worthy entry and timely good experience to end this truly crap month on. May life be infinitely more enjoyable from this point on for yours truly and everyone I hold dear.







Rossifer / The Bear xx

Monday, July 22, 2013

Omnibus

It's a Monday and i'm not at work. Why? Start of the Summer holidays that's why :) So much to catch up on, some of it adding to the Purple Book but all worth a mention.

The 10 @ 10 - One Sunday in June

I love Purple Book entries that name themselves. I'd promised myself a truly random entry into the book and after feeling peckish one evening and downing 4 Weetabix had an epithany. "I'm going to eat 10 Weetabix for breakfast", and that's what I did. One Sunday I woke up and the time happened to be a little after 10 in the morning (it was the weekend, don't judge me...) so of course, the challenge was set. I stacked 10 chocolate Weetabix on a tray, got the milk ready and got to it. 4 in the bowl, down with minimal fuss. In went the next three. That's when things got tricky. Had to take a wee breather after the seventh. After 15 minutes or so it was 10:45 and I wanted to finish by 11:00 so down it was to the final three. This was my second official eating challenge after that beast of a pizza with Abz and Sean in Brighton and I was reminded of the pain I felt back then. Nine Weetabix down with one to go, never has breakfast felt so painful. The 10th block was downed with 5 minutes in the hour to spare and I felt a tad food drunk for the next hour or so. The 10 @ 10 had been conquered :)

Man vs Food & Starlight Walk - 22nd June

A double entry on the same night. The night offered nothing of real merit for the book, i'd be eating in a new pub with some good friends and entering a sponsored walk for the second time, both ended up warranting a mention in the fabled tome.

The pub in question is located near and named after Tilehurst's sole landmark, the Water Tower. After a few changes from a pub to a Thai restaurant and back to a food serving pub i'd heard good things from the place and would be meeting up with Boss & H, two very good friends who I used to work with at John Lewis. After meeting up with them and having a quick natter it was onto the menu. The usual pub grub was laid out before me until something caught my eye 'EATING CHALLENGE'. I sat transfixed. An eating challenge in England. Such a concept is usually unheard of on these shores as it is deemed most Un-British. This would be my second eating challenge in a month and all the better as it was so unexpected :) The challenge was this, a burger comprising of 2 x 12oz beef burgers, two chicken fillets and bacon with a side order of onion rings and chips. While Adam Richman, legendary eater on 'Man vs Food' might have deemed this a mere starter it was quite a feast for myself and most British peeps. My two friends picked modest meals, more concerned with finishing first and breaking out the pom poms to cheer me on. At stake was the chance to get on the wall of fame, an equally Un-British concept but one which I simply loved the idea of, immortality on glossy paper.

I tried to remember the tactics laid out by Adam. Get the cold drinks close, smother the bread bits in sauce and just keep at it, don't stop. On Man vs Food he makes big mouthfuls and downs them asap. This wasn't really sinking in though and halfway through my fellow compatriots showed me an error of my ways, I'd order a fizzy drink - big mistake. My main problem came in the fact I still had a second challenge yet to conquer that same night, the starlight hike. This was only supposed to be a nice relaxed couple of hours with some friends but had become something more. I grew with confidence as the two burgers went down effortlessly, the great tasting chicken followed and the onion rings offered little resistance. The pain started with my nemesis, the bun of the burger. Looking back I should have downed it first but had left it to last by mistake. My eating speed slowed and with the walk still to come I admitted defeat, a matter of minutes away from victory. If it wasn't for the walk still to come I'd have gone through the pain barrier but i'm certainly glad I didn't (more on that later). It didn't help that an ex-student of Prospect was our waitress and sarcastically let me know plenty of women had conquered the challenge. Nice! Round 1 goes to food, the rematch begins next month with a little help in 'Prospect vs Food'...

After saying my goodbyes to Boss and H it was off to do the Starlight Hike at Green Park. The previous year i'd jointly won the 'race' with Dad and a short Polish woman. I say race, it's a sponsored walk really with 99% of the people there simply up for the craic of being there. To me though it is the one event I have a chance of winning and had every intention of doing the same this year. I arrived close to the start time, The crowd was consisted almost entirely of the fairer sex were doing the warm up, my warm up of downing a whacking great burger was hardly ideal preparation. I signed in and waited with Dad near the start at the front. After 10 minutes or so there was the countdown and we were off. Last year Dad quickly went to the front following the short Polish woman and the three of us walked the entire route together, this year I was in for a shock. Two brazen hussies RAN out in front and formed a sizeable lead. Not happy. Dad told me to bide my time but I was incensed, jogging on a sponsored walk? Most Un-British, it was borderline queue jumping and having tea without milk. They were cheating on the race I was going to win (they weren't, but it felt like it!). For the second time this evening I was faced with an unexpected challenge but this time nothing would stop me. I darted off at my quickest walking pace, quicker than most people I know can jog. The two girls in front kept looking behind and could see me getting closer. The musicians who line the route of the Green Park course where still getting set up when I got close to them. They'd stopped jogging at this point but I wanted to get out of sight in case they started up again. After 1/4 of an hour my ankles were burning. The marshals were giving each other knowing looks wondering who the hell this was going like the clappers but only walking. After the first of three laps I checked the time and was pleasantly surprised. The whole route would cover 6 miles and I had a chance of doing it in under an hour. The two girls at the start had given me an incentive so I kept going. On the way around the support from the artists and the officials was great. On the final lap I started lapping, various people ended up jogging alongside me before giving up and being overtaken. Third and final time to the roundabout with the band playing Status Quo songs, everyone else went right while I turned left towards the finish. Indulgent? Most definitely. You can't explain how good it feels crossing the line first, a jogger I may never be but a walker I most certainly am. I finished a 6 mile walk in 57 minutes which means my best average walking speed is just slightly over 6 miles an hour. The lady in second place, another short lady though not the Polish lady from before finished 10 minutes later, shortly followed by Dad who ended up in third place. The two girls from before finished way back in the pack. My epic burger from an hour or so before threatened to make an appearance at the later stages of the walk which is why I'm definitely glad I stopped when I did! A great evening an deserved entry in the book.

Pirate Night - 12th July

The end of the school year, an event to bring tears to the eyes for all the best reasons, the start of 6 weeks of summer holidays. This year though there would be no official shindig. As usual the duties had been left to yours truly to get something set up but after the busiest working month of my life in June i'd simply run out of time. Over lunch one weekend though I was mulling it over with some of the prospect faithful and we'd come up with a pub crawl, hardly ground breaking stuff but something at least. The following week this was about to step up a gear as I talked it through with Jesster, my kindred spirit for all things off the wall. The pub crawl became a 12 hour drinkathon and then the we added a sprinkling of 'pirates'. Perfect. Cue various e-mails and posters to get the interest up. A few eyebrows were raised, the majority of the Prospect are not what you'd called the adventurous types. The though of dressing up got a few people excited and turned off many more. I had a list of 10 or so pirates and a few who were simply up for a few drinks. I started to do some research, cue Pirates of the Caribbean boxset. People's idea of what a pirate should look like - hook, peg leg, eye patch - was blown apart with the antics of one Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. I'd wanted to dress up as him for a while as he just looks so cool in the films with the added bonus that woman love the look of him. I already had a rasta wig that I've had for as long as I can remember. I had plenty of desert scarves, some tatty looking trousers and knew there was a cool pirate looking outfit at Fun & Frolics, the fancy dress store near us.

Friday came, I brought in all the stuff and at the end of the day went down to get the eye make up on from GT and Jesster. I'd been dreading this bit as to that day i'd never worn make up due to heterosexuality, no longer living in the 80s and no stag do's that warranted it. GT did a cracking job as once the wig and outfit were on I looked as close to the real Captain Jack as I could. A few students walked in, one of which was the campest in the school. We both duelled with our campness as I started getting into the character. The arms were always raised above waist height, the mincing walk and the other mannerisms. I went back up to the staffroom were people cracked up and reached for the camera phones.

In the end the Pirate Night lived up to its name in entertainment if not in name. In total there were 4 pirates including yours truly throughout the day, everyone else played it safe and missed out on the photo ops. I always knew going on a night out with a 'prop' such a cool looking hat gets you noticed so going the whole nine yards as Captain Jack was the proverbial magnet. I soon lost track of the number of photo ops and yes, all of them were women ;) A fantastic afternoon and evening with the best picture of the evening ranking as one of my top 10 favourites of all time.

Color Run - 14th July

*sigh* I still hate typing it the American way! It annoys me so much I added a 'u' on my T-Shirt! The 'Color' Run was the end of a great weekend started off by Pirate night. After a hot day at work on Saturday I had some serious resting up to do before the 5km jaunt in more heat the next day. The Color Run, brought to my attention by Sarah at work was a walk / jog around Wembley stadium with the interest of getting covered by powdered paint. She should have known not to ask if I was interested, only in giving me the details. Anything which takes a boring 5km jog and throws in a bit of variety will always get my attention.

After dropping off my pirate outfit at Fun & Frolics me and Sarah headed off to London on the train. It's always great to find someone who shares my passion of doing new and different activities, I could tell we were equally up for the day's events. We met up with Sarah's mate and went straight to Wembley. We followed the tutu wearing volunteers to the start line and were greeted with a sea of people wearing the same white t-shirts and temporary tattoos as we were. We arrived in plenty of time, almost too much time as we had over an hour and a half in the sun before the race was due to start. There were a few distractions to keep entertained, photo with the dulux dog, company who were rather obviously sponsoring the race and providing the colour. Things were far from ideal at the start, those taking part crowded together near the start where three girls stood on a platform trying to get people to warm up. We all thought a) we really don't need warming up and b) good luck trying to do lunges when standing this close to each other. Eventually we were let though the start through to another start line, a long path leading up to Wembley stadium. Eventually we were let off in various groups, trying to grab goodies being thrown into the crowds by the organisers. Sarah's mate darted off in front and me and Sarah jogged together. After the 1st kilometre the question of when the colour would come was answered, we were greeted by a giant section of pink. Pink banners, someone dressed in pink and bags full of pink powdered paint (try saying that quickly 3 times ;) ). We stopped, got a handful each, chucked a bit in the air and then pelted each other in it. It felt so dusty we coughed and spluttered and got over to the pavement for the first picture.

Pink was followed by a rather purplish looking blue, yellow then orange. This time there were volunteers wearing gas masks and covering everyone who jogged through. With each section came another photo, each more colourful than the last. We eventually finished and were handed some coconut milk, a bottle of water and more paint. We went over towards the stage were there was music and people chucking more things into the crowd like hoodies and even more packets of paint. At regular intervals the call went out for everyone to chuck their paint in the air. It looked amazing, a sea of colour airborne and then over everyone. After someone had emptied the entire contents of their paint pack on my arm I was looking well and truly colourful. Eventually we made our way back, eyebrows being raised more the further we went from the venue. back in Reading me and Sarah walked past a local pub and the group outside didn't know whether to laugh or just stare at us. "Look at us however you like" I thought, "I'd place a small wager on the fact I've enjoyed my day infinitely more than you have".

Rossifer x

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Peru

No fancy titles for this one. I haven't 'peaked to soon' or 'gone off for a peru-sal', the title says it all. No event in my life has come close to beating what i've experienced in this amazing country. The anticipation of my dream trip, at certain points, threatened to ruin the whole event but I was not to be disappointed. The 8 days I spent in Peru have been the best of my life, fingers crossed i'll be able to come close to describing why they meant so much to me.

Peru was 5 years in the dreaming. I'm not sure what started it all off but I know it was around the time I started the PB and started looking at the world differently. Other distractions continued to pop up but that one image of Machu Picchu city with Huayna Picchu in the background always stayed with me. I've had the poster of that image behind me at work for as long as I can remember, a constant reminder that you have to work hard to make your dreams come to life. Over 500 days ago this dream started to become a reality, I couldn't help but shed a tear once i'd secured the booking - 10 days in Peru, walking the Inca trail to Machu Picchu.

Some background info - Peru is 6 hours back from GMT which was a tad unfortunate when a pesky supply agency which usually bugs me at work decided to unwittingly phone me at 3:00 in the morning on one of the days in Cuzco! The currency is the Neuvos Sole and céntimos for the smaller amounts. Depending on how lucky you are with the conversion rates you can get 4.05 Soles for every pound sterling although you can only change from US dollars which will get you around 2.5 Soles for every dollar. Most peruvians are lovely except the ones you meet in bureau de changes, they're up there with any custom official worldwide...

Despite being out of the country for 10 days it was only the 8 days in the middle that were worth writing home about, more or less everything either side was about grinning and bearing it although the first day meant meeting the first half of the group which would become known as 'Pumas'. Heathrow airport brought all the Brits together. I'd spoken to a few of them on Facebook but this was the first time we'd all met up, sizing each other up in the nicest possible way. I recognised Debbie, Tracie and Lisa straight away, then came Alison, Hannah, Paul, Julie, Sally Ann and our two team leaders Jo and Henry. A varied bunch, we all shared a true sense of adventure as between us we'd walked the great wall of china, reached Everest base camp, climbed Kilimanjaro and walked a mile carrying a bag of compost. In our other lives we were HR managers, nurses, bank managers, fund raisers and Admin officers but here we were equals and would become a solid family. After only an hour or so in i'd got a new nickname, 'Eyes' and was tallying up the tall jokes and dishing out as good as I got. The quick flight to Madrid then gave us a couple of hours to kill. We discovered our main spanish linguist in Debs and even managed to translate Tracie when using her finest Geordie.

The 2nd flight there and back was always going to be the worst, 12 1/2 hours of limbo. In the 4 other shorter flights leg room never seemed to be a problem but the long haul flight felt like being in a shoe box. Debs was most annoyed when a bloke gave me evils for treading on my foot which was hanging in the aisle. I love it when fiery women have got my back ;) The saving grace with long haul though is the entertainment. Life of Pi, Dark Night and several episodes of The Big Bang theory helped me forget how numb my legs and bum were feeling and how I knew getting any sleep would be impossible. After faffing around in Lima with a bewildered looking check in crew we hurriedly got on our 3rd and final flight, now into the second day it was only only 1 hours 20 minutes to Cuzco. After we'd got all our bags we went outside and it took our breaths away, literally. Lima may be at sea level but Cuzco certainly isn't, placed over 3000 metres above sea level. A quick jog to the coach was unthinkable, suddenly everything had to be slowed down as anything close to a brisk walk really got the heart and lungs going. From that moment on we were introduced to the first of many  culture shocks, hawkers. Stand still for long enough anywhere in Peru and it seems someone will try and sell you something. A photo of us arriving, a Peruvian hat. We still only had our US$ currency and were eager to get going so had to disappoint the locals. Weirdly enough the driver didn't bother loading any luggage in the hold and instead piled us and all the bags straight onto the coach. I still remember that drive to our hotel, I couldn't stop looking around at this strange and wonderful new world i'd found myself in. Giant wooden water flumes, large models of trains in random positions, semi knackered cars all with thin red and white stripes  of the Peruvian flag. And the colours, the 7 colours of the rainbow shown everywhere. I'd later find out these are the colours of the Inca flag, Peruvians have love for both parts of their ancestry.

After a short drive with as many speed bumps as in Tilehurst we arrived in the centre of Cuzco. Again my eyes didn't know which way to look first, so much colour and variety to look at, beautiful architecture and just soaking in being in a completely new and different place. Around the corner we came to Hotel Garcilaso II, the second of two identically named hotels side by side and home for the beginning and end of my dream days. The 3 stars on the wall would label it as comfortable for most but after the days trekking we were to face the beds, showers and flushable toilets would later seem like 5 star luxury. We enter the great looking courtyard and are given a local tea, any experience that starts with tea is always a plus I reckon. Made with coca leaves, a key crop for Peruvian farmers, the tea is both a pretty decent Oolong sort of tasting tea and a key ingredient for Cocaine for the unscrupulous (trivia - also the original ingredient for Coca Cola before being banned). After getting all our stuff in our rooms it was time to get our currency changed and chance for our team leaders to have a quick break from us. Jo was in charge and Henry was our doctor, both briefed us on the things we'd have to keep a constant check on from that moment on. Firstly water and sun block. Were we just south of the Equator at altitude which meant the potential for getting very hot, linked in with this was the altitude. The brief was to have both with you at all times, especially water which we'd be drinking far more than we were used to. Secondly but equally pushed by both Jo and Henry was hygiene. Little bottles of Alcoholic hand wash were with us at all times as the thought of being sick out of both ends before or doing the trek was something we were all keen to avoid. Culture shock number 2, the toilets. I'm used to basic and mucky but not changing the way I use a loo. In Peru the used loo roll goes in a bin or if you're unlucky, a pile in the corner, and not down the hole. Needing to go I made sure I used the main hotel loo to check I wasn't being set up as naturally the one in my room was clear. Sure enough, bin in the corner with a nice little mountain of tinted paper piling up. Where was that hand wash again..?

We had the rest of the day to ourselves. After changing our currency for the rather unhelpful 100 sole notes, me and 6 of the others decided to relax in the main square. Debs, Hannah, Alison, Tracie, Lisa and Sally Ann. The 7 of us quickly began to get on very well and would spend the rest of the holiday having a laugh together and watching each others backs. Culture shock number 1 reared it's head again with the endless stream of hawkers. Every 5 minutes or so saw a new local try their luck with 3 common themes; pictures, jewellery and figurine pens. We must have said "No Gracias" about as many times as taking a swig from our water bottles during the trip, most of them took no as no but a few (especially the kids selling the pens) at times were a pain in the proverbial. I spotted a very traditional Peruvian woman with her daughter holding what looked like a doll, it turned out to be a baby lamb wearing a hat. Cue photo op with 1 Sol buying us all a picture with them. The locals are more than happy to have their pictures taken as long as you give them something in return. Not a problem, i'd pick memorable pictures over novelty pens any day.

The first evening seemed to be tricky for most people. The altitude affected everyone's appetite, even mine. We all felt guilty seeing half empty plates of food going back as we simply didn't feel like eating, despite having only economy class plane food, a few Go Ahead bars and an endless torrent of water. The menu might have put some of though, alpaca, the first taste of traditional Peruvian food.
The first night was horrible, for some reason my heart was racing more than ever and breathing was proving problematic after anything resembling effort. Kicking back the 200 covers on my bed felt like being back in the bog in Llantyrd Wells. The plunk plunk fizz aspirin i'd brought with me to try and help things was about as tasty as battery acid so I stuck to the water and Haribos. I can't tell you how fun getting up to pee 3 times in the night  at altitude is. sure is an experience I can tell you!

Woke up the following morning feeling like i'd been drop kicked, luckily the breakfast brought a complete turn around. I reckon the pink yoghurt had something to do with it. At this point we were starting to get to know the kiwi contingent of our group which had joined us late the day before. A few of them had already done the rainforest trip which our two Geordies Tracie and Lisa were going to do and said how amazing it was. Even though they'd been in the country longer than us, the rainforest was still at sea level more or less so they were suffering the same as the rest of us. Unlike the brits with only one couple and two bezzie mates the kiwis all knew each other before the trip started. Jocelyn, Judith, Terry, Lynn, Cecile, John and Craig made it a solid female presence, something I was more than used to working at Prospect ;)

The first full day in Cusco involved taking a practise trek to acclimatise us all to trekking at altitude, without the fear of being in the middle of nowhere as we would still be around civilisation. We all jumped on the coach and went on our way to our first destination, Tambo Machay. Along the route, my first memorable moment, not a biggie but enough to get itself lodged in the mind. We were turning a corner in the coach and suddenly a train came parallel alongside us out of nowhere and we were riding side by side. It was little moments like this along with the main event that have elevated Peru to it's dream status. The road resembled the current standard found in Tilehurst, bumpy and full of holes; a home from home if you will. We arrived at Tambo Machay, had a pee break at and were given our snacks. the loos had little dolls showing each gender  (a common theme) and the snacks included a banana and my new favourite - OREO'S! I haven't done the twisting and dunking in milk yet but I can't believe I didn't discover them earlier. Proper lush! The first few steps into the practise trek and we're breathing hard already. From that moment we quickly learnt how to adapt, no more rushing around like at home, Peru would be all about taking your time.

This was our first introduction to Eddie who would be our main guide. Born and raised in the ever cool sounding Ollantaytambo (especially when he said it) Eddie was clearly a guy passionate about his country's culture and it would prove to be infectious for all of us. The walk from Tambo Machay to the fantastically named Saqsaywaman brought with it many Inca treasures. Eddie introduced the important parts of Incan culture such as the three sacred animals of the Condor, Serpent and Puma and from that moment on referred to us all as Pumas, the sacred animal of the material world. The mini trek introduced us all to Peru's second best anti-congestant, the joys of pooing out in the wild and the carving skills of a very talented dude. Eddie and Oskar, Eddie's right hand man handed us some local mint and asked us to rub a little in our hands. A breath of vapour really helped to open the airways for the trek. Unfortunately for Sally Ann it must have opened another type of airway as she became the first person of the group who needed to 'tush the bush'. Near the end of the route we found this bloke carving beautiful items out of the local stone. I brought my first of 3 pipes, a beaut of a pipe which resembled a hand holding onto a bowl. We stopped at Saqsaywaman for lunch, posing for our 'sexy woman' shots by the sign. It was Cecile the kiwi's birthday and luckily she had a Peruvian band and birthday cake waiting for her. After lunch the impromptu dancing started, we had to take it in turns as dancing at altitude is a lot harder than usual! Lunch brought with it a 3rd culture shock but in a good way - Peruvian food is amazing! The cold drinks were very welcome but not as much as the grub, very tasty and plenty of it, a theme we would discover throughout our time out there. The loss of appetite from the first day was well and truly gone as we all got stuck in. We made it to the ruins at Saqsaywaman and had another history lesson from Eddie while we kicked back and continued to top up the hydration and sun block levels. This was also the cue for the first of many Paddington photos. Me, Sally Ann, Debs and Alison had all brought one with us and so gave our bears some time in the frame at this amazing looking Inca site.


After a while at the Inca site is back home to the centre of Cuzco and our hotel. Down a few back alleys we saw more of the sorts of people living there. We passed several school children, all immaculately dressed and eager to get to school. Some of them have to walk miles to get to and from school but you can tell from the look in their eyes this isn't a problem, they know to do well in school is to give themselves the best chance of a better life. Every Peruvian kid we'd seen at that point seemed to have the most amazing natural smiles on them. Far from the pampered teenagers back at home these children had very little but were all the more grateful for the things they did have and the chances they were given. We passed an Alice Cooper lookalike peddling goods on a corner, a guy cobbling shoes in the shade of a small room and some pretty decent looking basketball courts. I'd watched a little bit of telly the night before and football could be found on 5 separate channels but at least some of the residents knew what the true beautiful game was. No one felt like much more exploring once we'd reached the area around our hotel but I went for a bit of solo shopping. I thought i'd try out some bartering skills and look for a pendant like Eddie was wearing, the Andean Cross. The cross is an important part of Peruvian culture in it's various forms. The half cross seems even more sacred as the other half is in the earth, the symbol in both forms can be found throughout Peru and especially the Inca trail. After a bit of shopping I went back to the hotel and got on the computer, figured out the foreign keyboard and updated the world on how amazing Peru was proving to be so far.

The following morning brought with it breakfast, 2 more guides and the serious business of getting ready for the main trek. More pink yoghurt with scrambled egg (this year's food discovery) and then back to the room to pack all the bags. First up was the duffle bag, a blue zip up bag we'd be having transported for us along the trek and would only have access to at night. The weight limit was 6kg and contained the sleeping bag, sleeping mat, wash gear, spare clothing and off course, onesie. I'd been convinced to buy one from Primarni before flying out, luckily Dad managed to find me a beaut of one with a big old Union Jack down one side. Next came the rucksack. Water bottles first in (2 litres minimum was the brief) followed by the sun screen, hand gel and emergency medical supplies. Extras included snacks, head torches and loo roll for all those impromptu bush tushes. Everything else went in the main luggage which stayed at the hotel for the duration of the main trek. Bags ready we swung on round to the waiting coach to take us to the start of the Inca Trail. Before that we stopped off at the quite brilliant sounding Ollantaytambo, home of our main guide Eddie. The whole place seems to exist now to be the final stop off point to get supplies for the trek. We stocked up on sugary sweets, water bottles, funky looking water bottle holders, cholos (alpine hats) and anything else that the previous day's trek had proven a need for. Despite an evident security presence the place seemed as chilled out as the rest of Cuzco. Ollantay as it's known by the locals was modelled on the shape of the serpent, Cuzco the shape of a Puma and Machu Picchu the shape of a condor. We'd learn from Eddie more of the importance of these three sacred animals as we travelled to our destination.

After another short drive we arrived at the start of the Inca trail. Piscakucho otherwise known as 'Km 82' was the lowest altitude we'd been at for a while at 2,570 metres ASL but the heat made it feel quite awkward. There was a mixture of excitement and nervous tension as everyone made their final checks to their kit before setting off. We had a hawker trying to sell us things, cue a mass desert scarf buying frenzy as the sun had caught many of us on our necks the day before and they were just the ticket to protect them from the sun. For the first time we could see the whole final group together at last. As well as the two new guides Erline and Jimmy we were joined by the chaski's. We were told they were never to be called 'porters' like a lot of foreigners called them as their jobs and history was far more nobler. The chaskis of old were the messengers for the Incas, travelling with messages with very little rest over huge distances and tricky terrain. Our chaski's would be doing the same except they would be transporting all the equipment instead of messages. These amazing guys were nowt more than 5 foot and a tater but as fit as ox's. Every time we saw them they worked effortlessly as a team. As well as carrying our 6kg duffle bags they carried the tents, chairs, food, cooking gear, toilet and everything else that we'd need for the journey. Each day they were to rush off ahead of us after packing away to set up at the next site before we got there, all except one who carried the medical gear who we dubbed 'Superman'.

At this stage I was in panic mode. I'd had a few worries about the trip before starting including the heat and altitude but the main potential pit fall was my knees. 2 months before setting off they'd decided to play me up in a big way. I'd been to the doctors and had the usual diagnosis, 'Hypochondria. Nowt wrong with you so bugger off'. Hypo or nor my knees were making themselves known to me. Everyone had spotted a slight limp from me even at the airport, despite trying to hide it I had Jo and Henry with the questions from the start. I tried to convince everyone, myself included, this wouldn't be a problem and wouldn't stand in the way of me realising my dream. After loading up all our gear we took the short walk towards the entry point, the knees, in anticipation of what was to come gave me a fair bit of grief for the short journey. We had to stand in a specific order, Peruvians may be laid back but not when it comes to their beloved trail. The limit is 500 people a day on the trail, only 200 of these though can be tourists, everyone else must be a guide or chaski. We waited in line in the sun while smaller groups of people were ushered through. For someone used to first come first served queueing this was culture shock number 4 and most un-British. Eventually, our group went  through, Oskar put the first of many stamps in my passport and we were over the bridge and good to go. We were given a quick brief on trek etiquette. If our team were behind us looking to pass we were to say "Chaski" and stick to the mountain side of the path so they could pass. This became one of the many routines we quickly became used to along with the water, sun screen and hand wash. The first day would be gentle enough, we passed the Inca site of Llaqtapata and gradually walked towards our camp site at Wayllabamba at 2980 metres ASL (Above Sea Level). Lunch and Tea made us start to realise how amazing our group of chaskis were. While we were kitted up to the eye balls with state of the art hiking boots, moisture wicking tech tops and walking poles these guys were carrying big loads twice as fast as we were so they could make it to the stop in time, set it up and make us feel fantastic when we got there. At each stop we were greeted by a round of applause, bowls of water to wash our hands before eating and the food tent itself. I'm not sure about everyone else but I was expecting a packed lunch or something each day, what we got was a feast every time. We sat together on the stools some dude had hiked up for us by himself in front of some of the best tasting food i've ever eaten. I've lost count of the number of new food I enjoyed but I know they included salad and even the demon food brocolli. This time though I wasn't eating it for a bet, it tasted good!
Night time saw tea followed by an early night, this would become earlier every night by half an hour each day. We had number tents along with our numbered duffle bags. Most people shared tents but me and Debs were lucky enough to have our own tents as a couple had pulled out of the trip at the last minute. While I missed being with my new mates when in the tent sharing would have naturally have been frowned upon seeing that my favourite super 6 were all women ;) It felt great getting to the tent at the end of each day to get the walking boots off and the flip flops on. The onesie also went straight on and gained rave reviews. Debs rocked up with her leopard print onesie and Alison graced us with her Daisy duck one. I wouldn't be surprised if we've started something big in Peru...

The first night and no sleep. 3 barking dogs, no mattress and sheer excitement saw to that. I'd clocked up only 2 hours or so since waking up the day I left for Heathrow but still felt raring to go in the morning. Breakfast brought with it tea, hot chocolate, porridge, local bread, the comically named 'Fanny' Jam and my favourite Peruvian culinary experience, pancakes covered in caramel, SO good! We'd already had a nice start to the morning with morning coca tea given to us by Oskar and some of the chaskis. Each morning started off with the delightfully dry sounding voice off Oskar telling us to "Wake up family". We were Eddie's Pumas and Oskar's family and as the trip went on we felt a stronger part of both. There was also a small bowl of warm water to wash our hands and face in. Showers were a no go, we all knew we'd be smelling pretty funky by the end of the trip but at least we had fresh hands feet and face to start each day. After breakfast we had the usual routine, fill up our water bottles from the giant water containers (boiled to make it safe), put on the Sun screen, use the hand wash and then the ever familiar call of "OK Pumas, packs on". I was already starting to mimic Eddie's voice at this point which cracked everyone up, especially Eddie.

The second day of the main trail was to be the most challenging, a 9km long, 1,200m rise in altitude trek to Warmi Wanuska, more commonly known as 'Dead Woman's Pass' due to the resemblance of a woman lying down when looking at the passes peaks from distance. I nodded along when everyone else was telling me they could see it but then agai ni always did that to those random patterns you see in books that are supposed to have animals contained within them. The path itself was starting to get steeper and contain trickier sections such as big stone steps. I was reminded of Jacob's ladder on the Pennine Way, another brutal bit of trekking although at least this time I didn't have torrential rain to deal with and the beast on my back. I felt myself staring at nothing but the ground as I dug deep to get the job done, I had to remember to stop to take water and of course take pictures of the amazing sights I was surrounded by. Doing so though got much trickier the higher we got. The kiwis, all avid trekkers back home were doing a great job up ahead all except Judith who spent the first couple of days at the back. Throughout the Trek Eddie was at the front, Jo near the back and Henry right at the back bringing up the rear watching out for anyone struggling medically. Ali dropped back at this stage as well and Jo had a little word in my ear to do the same. I can be stoically stubborn when it comes to what my body can achieve. I am by far the fastest walker I know on normal flat terrain at sea level so having to walk this slowly took a lot of getting used to. For the last hour many if us, me included could have been over taken by a sloth, looking back I still can't believe how slow progress was at that altitude. Despite this the chaskis had still been merrily whizzing past us, although less energetic looking as usual still at a pace which left the rest of us standing. Past the late 4100m stage and I can see the rest of the Pumas at the top. This spurred me on as I heard Eddie playing a flute and everyone else up there in awe of the views. I tripled my pace virtually bounding up the final few steps. Big mistake! After reaching the top I was greeted by Debs, exhileration then serious dizzyness. I get my photo taken with Deb, find a spot to pee without going any higher and then find a rock to slump on. 15 minutes or so later after chewing on coca sweets and glucose my head starts to return to normality. At this stage it starts to rain and we all see Judith and the good doctor Henry finally reaching the summit. Judith is on cloud nine and despite being a bit tired, in a much better state than i'd been. What happened next was the joint favourite part of the whole experience for me. We'd all been asked to bring a small stone with us up to the top of the pass. Eddie drew a heart shape on the ground with his own rock and said we were about to give an offering to Pachamama, the mother earth. In turn we all put our stones inside the heart (plus an oreo for good measure). We then all stood around the heart and closed our eyes. It was still raining at this stage when we heard Eddie and Erline playing on flutes. We stood in silence while the ceremony took place, listening to the music feeling as if we were being taken somewhere. When the music stopped, so did the rain. We looked back in the valley of the pass we'd just climbed and in it was a rainbow, formed the second the music had stopped! I'm a devout atheist and sceptic of any and all things other worldly but even I was starting to believe. I'd felt nothing close to this since that moment back in Pavlov's Dog at home. If Pachamama, my guardian or whatever else is out there does exist it was certainly listening.

The downhill bit for the next 3 hours or so was the most brutal part of the trek for me. The ascent was physically tiring and a tad disconcerting at times but still enjoyable, the descent was a pure slog and one of only two parts of the trip I wasn't feeling the love. At this stage my trekking poles were really coming into there own. A few people had decided to leave them finding them too awkward but they were proving to be my lifeline. Although I couldn't see them I imagined a few worried looks between Jo and Henry as I winced at nearly every step as my knees felt awful. We did our best to cheer each other up as it became clear we were all suffering in some way. Knees, ankles and blisters were starting to take their toll on the masses. After what seemed like an eternity we reached camp. Seeing the tents lined up was such a relief, even if they had shifted numerical order a tad. Each day saw us sharing the sites with more and more groups, the final stop would see all 500 people camp together. At this point I felt broken. I virtually fell into my tent, tore my boots off, surveyed the damage to my feet and just slumped flat on my sleeping mat after getting into the onesie. After a while it was off to the tent for the traditional 'happy hour', a hot chocolate and a bowl of popcorn before tea for the more sociable among us. Tea came and went, fantastic as ever and it was off to bed. I was now back in panic mode as I was panicking about how my body, knees especially, would cope with the rest of trek. We had conquered the hardest part but the longest trek was still to come - 16km and around 12 hours out on the route. I slept the best i'd done for the whole trip and tentatively tested the waters when I woke up. I felt broken. I was greeted by our usual morning treat of coca tea and bowl of hot water but I was panicking. I shuffled to the tent for breakfast, trying to hide as best I could how crap I felt. Whoever said breakfast was the most important meal of the day was right, every one in Peru had given me a new lease of life. Whilst still feeling fragile I went through the usual routine. Fill up the water, sun block and hand wash on and then "OK Pumas, packs on".

Day 3 of the main trek saw a longer but much gentler rise and fall in altitude over largely easier terrain. the pain from my knees continued to switch from side to side which at least meant it was largely psycho-semantic which meant I had a better chance of dealing with it. A break, twist or fracture would leave me buggered but pain was something I could grimace and deal with. The rest of the Pumas could sense my predicament and all chipped in keeping my spirits up. At this point Debs and Ali were the front runners doing really well with their pace, I was near the back with Lisa, Tracie, Sally Ann and H. Me and Tracie became each others wingmen as we seemed to be having similar problems so watched each others backs and kept each other laughing. A stop off point gave us our first magical glimpse of Machu Picchu mountain. It is this mountain that the city of Machu Picchu is situated and was named after but NOT the one you can see in all the famous pictures of the site, that beauty is known as Huayna Picchu. A few minutes after the break I had a strange moment, for some reason I started welling up and couldn't stop! At this point I was in no particular amount of pain, the downhill route was tricky but not as brutal as before and I was in very good spirits so why the waterworks? Was it because i'd seen the mountain i'd been dreaming of visiting for the first time on the journey, tiredness setting in? I'd no idea. I was fully expecting this to happen when walking through the Sun gate on the final day but not at that point. Cue a mini game set up by Tracie to take my mind off everything. We'd already discussed  bucket lists and A -Z lists back at Madrid airport so she decided to get an A - Z bucket list going. We had to alternate letters, memorising what we'd both said previously. We seemed to drive a few of the kiwis nuts doing this who decided to overtake us at this point but Ali and Sally Ann stayed with us to help us remember. We ended up with this: -

A - African dancing in Africa
B - Basketball in Market Square Garden
C - Carp fishing in Japan
D - Dog sledging in Alaska
E - Elephant riding in India
F - Fencing in Bordeaux
G - Golf in America
H - Helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon
I - Ice skating in Iceland
J - Jet Skiing in the Bahamas
K - Kick boxing in Thailand
L - Lion taming in Egypt
M - Matadoring in Spain
N - Night trekking in Nepal
O - Orangutang viewing in Borneo
P - Pisco souring in Peru
Q - Quickstepping in Brighton
R - Racing in Italy
S - Skiing in the Alps
T - Trekking in Nepal (during the day I guess)
U - Uniform dating on the Internet
V - Vespa riding in Sicily
W - Wanking in Wikiki (yep you read that right!)
X - Xylophoning in Austria
Y - Yoyo-ing in York
Z - Zorbing in New Zealand.

At the end of the game in another moment of impeccable timing we came across everyone else at the stop off point. A few of them had heard our game, especially the kiwis who enjoyed the Z entry made in homage to their country. The rest of the Pumas asked me to recite the whole list to them again followed by a cracking round of applause for my efforts of recall. A very quick sit down and it was back with the packs on towards camp. On the longest day we had hiked the Runkuraqay and Phuyupatamarca Passes, stopped off at the ruins of Sayacmarca and eventually reached oru stop for the night at Winaywayna. Despite my worries of letting the side down with my knees, they'd held up a treat in the end. As well as that, Eddie told us we had a special treat in store for us. We were the first group to get to the camp site during day light hours and so were able to view some beautiful ruins a short walk from the camp. We were told it was but a 3 minute walk away and to only bring a top and head torch just in case, no poles needed. Mine would be coming with me though. At this point we were so close to our goal so they would not be leaving my sight. Despite Eddie obviously using a sun dial to get his 3 minutes travel time, we were not disappointed. Another great looking Inca ruin with an even better view. We each sat in one of the stone windows while Eddie gave us another insight into his culture and the history of where we were sat. The night began to draw in so it was back to camp for happy hour and tea. This was the final night we would spend with our chaski's so we gave each other a great send off. The chef had baked and iced us a cake and we had collected tips for everyone and put them in envelopes. A few of us volunteered to hand them out to the various groups of people, saying why we appreciated them and how much we'd loved our experience. After Debs, H, Tracie, Jocelyn and Lisa did their bit I rocked up wearing my onesie which went down well with the locals. I doubt they've ever seen someone that big in something like that before! Terry was last up and did the best of the speeches with various murmurs and nods of appreciation as she summed up what we all felt, the love for these people who had become part of our family and the amazing experience we'd all had so far.

Waking up on the final morning we were all in a nervous state of expectation. It was another 1/2 hour earlier start, getting up 4:00am. This was for two reasons, we were just 2 minutes walk from a gate which opened at sunrise and wanted to be there as soon as possible so we could beat the tourist crowd to Machu Picchu. The second reason was for our chaskis, there are only two trains out of Machu Picchu during the day, one of which is the ridiculously early morning train. As soon as we were out of our tents they were being packed away and the same with breakfast. The chaski's were like a well oiled machine with everything sorted out into backpacks before you could blink. They all rushed off down a separate path to the station while we got our packs on and wandered down to the gate. We were joined by all the other trekkers we'd shared the night with, waiting for a few minutes before it was light enough to go through. I spotted a Japanese dude i'd seen a few times on the trek and had a good look at the brilliant hat he was wearing, I wouldn't be leaving Peru without buying one of those beauts. Eventually the gate opened and we all slowly walked through. Although the majority of the 2 hour route to the main event was said to be easy with much less steps and gentler inclines and descents there was one section called the 'monkey steps' which prove a tester. The local name for this section was 'gringo killer' due to its ability to sort the locals out from the tourists. It was easy enough to spot, Oskar was stood at the bottom holding all our trekking poles as we would genuinely be climbing the steps. My mind raced back to Scafell Pike and the scrambling section. Luckily my knees were feeling kind as I suddenly found myself in my element, I think 'rat up a drainpipe' was a pretty good description. The views were more amazing as ever. Eddie was giving us another chat on where we were when Jo came through on the radio, she was at the Sun Gate with Jimmy. I thought we were about 1/2 hour away but in fact it was only 10 minutes or so, suddenly all aches and pains didn't exist as we were moments away from Inti Punktu, Sun Gate and entrance to Machu Picchu.

Henry had darted off ahead, he'd spent every waking moment on the trek bringing up the rear so we knew we were close. We walked the quickest we'd done since starting in avid anticipation. After a few minutes we heard cheering. Oskar and Jimmy held up trekking poles making an arch for us all to walk under and Henry, Eddie and Oskar were high fiving us all while Jo was filming us arriving on a camera, we'd made it! I wanted to take a picture of the gate which was one of the 5 images I'd put on my 500 day countdown but the battery  had appeared to be empty, causing me a near panic. For a moment I put this to one side as I went up the steps, turned left and saw it for the first time, Machu Picchu city and Huanya Picchu...
Smiles broke out spontaneously along with hugs with whoever was within reach. Out came the Paddington bears and the sponsor t-shirts where smoothed out to get the first of 'the' shots, the ones that would immortalise this moment. My mind went back to mini panic mode with my camera. I'd brought two batteries and with a 2 bar charge remaining at the start of the morning I was sure it would last me at least the day. After fiddling about with the camera at several times I managed to get the shots I wanted. I kept my camera away from the group shots fearing I'd have nothing for later if I completely ran out of juice, glad I did as Facebook is a great thing in getting the shots everyone else took. Although we could clearly see our goal it was still a fair walk until we'd reach the site proper. We stopped off halfway down on the descent at another Incan ruin by a huge over hanging rock. Despite not being close to any water, the rock echoed the sound of a waterfall from far away, one of the many amazing works of engineering and understandings the Incas had of their world. I'm still baffled at how such a huge advanced culture could have been wiped out by such few Spanish Conquistadors. Unfortunately the Incas were so in tune with the world around them they worried far less about developing ways to protect themselves from those looking to conquer it for themselves. Such a common theme throughout history, I can't help but think how much better our world might be if the conquering sides had lost.

A few more minutes down the path and we arrived at what we'd all been dreaming about since booking our trips. From the sun gate you are greeted by the classic post card image but once you actually reach the site you are instantly hit by the sheer size of the place. I am always much more impressed by natural beauty so it was always the mountain of Huayna Picchu which drew me to Peru but I was awe inspired by the size of the Inca city, even more so when we found out the state it would have been discovered in back in 1911 by the explorer Hiram Bingham. In Machu Picchu stands a solitary tree, kept there to show the height of vegetation covering the entire site back in the day. The city looks like one huge stone metropolis. There are a variety of stone wall techniques on show with only the very best saved for the temples where the stonework is classed as near enough to perfection. There are sections with low door ways and mini steps for the average inhabitant and the opposite for the actual Incas, 'Inca' meaning royalty with the tallest members of the culture being the kings (which gave yours truly a few knowing looks ;) ). Apparently when the Spanish popped over for a visit and a spot of invading they instantly killed the tallest and strongest which is why so few tall Peruvians exist today. I was already looking to spend the rest of my life in this amazing country so a idea of re-creating a tall populous was starting to sound inviting... Eddie took us to various spots including the quarry and temple of the condor and told us all about them. At this point we were slowly get swamped by tourists fresh off the coach. 'd already had my dream trip slightly soured by the tourist experience. Before going off for the tour we had to drop off our bags and poles. We were greeted by shops, vending machines, queues for toilets and pampered divas surgically attached to their smart phones happy enough on the day excursion. The Pumas had spent 4 days enduring heaven and hell in paradise while this lot trundled off an air conditioned coach looking for their postcard pictures and novelty t-shirts. That and the salad burger we were given as a snack left a nasty taste in the mouth.

After Eddie's tour we were left to our own devices. A coach out of Machu Picchu would be available every 15 minutes or so which meant we were free to spend up to 3 hours at the site before leaving for the nearest town to meet up for lunch. I'd well and truly stopped sulking about the tourist situation and was back in dreamland. My body had a completely new lease of life, I found myself bounding up the many stone steps and walking at the pace my body was used to. Me and the other Paddington owners rigged up various photo ops for our bears which drew plenty of interest from those around us. If any Cusco hawkers are reading this, get yourself to MP armed with Paddinton bears as you will make a fortune, tourists love them! Along with Debs, Ali, Tracie and Lisa we'd arranged to spend a further 30 minutes or so at the site taking pictures and exploring. We'd already soaked in the atmosphere at this point and the flood of tourists was starting to make any further time spent there a token gesture. I raced up to the highest point i'd seen earlier to take more Paddington shots and get a better perspective of my surroundings. You could see what Eddie was talking about earlier about MP being a sort of compass as it sat exactly in the middle of 4 mountains pointing in the points of the compass. Putucusi pointed to the East, Chachani (or San Gabriel) to the West, Machu Pichu mountain pointed South and my favourite Huayna Picchu to the North. The site is also an observatory though, stone washers full of water could be used to reflect the stars at night. Because of Machu Picchu's position on the equator you can see key constellations depending on the time of the year. At the summer and winter solstices the sun would reflect in key parts of the site, used by the priests as a calendar for key dates throughout the year. Be under no illusion, the Incas were way ahead of their time.
Eventually it was time to go, the 5 of us went to the coach stop and after a few minutes were sat on the back row in our very own air conditioned bus. We had spent 4 days trekking without showering so looked a tad out of place in comparison with everyone else on the coach. It was the 5 of us though who would be taking the most away from our day though, the main event is nothing without the trail before it.

After 20 minutes or so we reach the stop off point at the fantastic looking Aguas Calientes. Just like Ollantaytambo, AC seems now to exist for only one purpose. Tourism is the area's sole business, set up purely for said purpose. The area has amazing views and the buildings and the railway make the whole place look so alive. There are plenty of cafes, restaurants and shops but happily they don't look tacky and touristy. Unlike the bag storage place in MP this place has managed to retain its soul. The first stop was the restaurant we'd be lunching in later to drop off our bags. On from there it was the market and a sea of colour. Everyone seemed to be selling many variations of the same theme, shopping around would always get you a better price or the exact thing you were looking for. It was here I bought easily my favourite souvenir, a gorgeous looking photo album that i'm looking at whilst typing this. It has every image of Peru you could wish to have on it such as the 3 sacred animals and nazca lines images and smells amazing; leather, rubber and oil in one. We spent the next hour splitting up and meeting back up, finding plenty of photo ops and having a drink together. Highlights included a great looking ceremony with people wearing white balaclavas, holding llama effergies and carrying whips (a bit weird / kinky looking but hey ho) and an impromptu ceremony which went on outside while we were having lunch. I darted out with my camera and everyone who had theirs followed. After lunch it was off for a train ride then a coach ride back to Cuzco. The train ride is apparently one of the top 7 you can do in the world one of the kiwis said. The views were great and the paper placemat we were each given was pretty cool so i'm happy to go along with that. Back in Ollantaytabmbo it was on the coach which had brought us here with the driver dubbed 'Schumacher' getting us back on that same knarly road with all the speed bumps on it. The coach got us back to the hotel just before 9pm. A few people decided to skip the 9:20 tea in favour of snack bars and sleep. The shower back in my room felt like heaven. I'd been moved over to room 104 next to doctor Henry and Debs, Ali and H were now all sharing. I must have seriously lost track of time as I ambled out an hour late at 10:15. Luckily the lovely hotel staff brought me out something while Henry and the two kiwi blokes Craig and John were having a natter.

Final full day in Cuzco and it was ours to spend as we wished. Judith and Cecile told us about a pretty cool market they'd found on the first day which I wanted to go to. Debs wanted to find a photo album that looked like mine and I had some serious shopping to do including a hat for Beardy at work and something for the oldies. I eventually found the market and it was even more alive than the one at Aguas Calientes. This one was much bigger and also had food and drink of every kind. The woman at the fruit juice stands waved their menu cards to attract attention, the meat stand had what looked like sheep mouths and other funky looking carcasses. Huge loafs of oval shaped bread, various types of nuts and huge blocks of cheese. The colours of the souvenir stands were amazing. There were people sat next to each other at the eating stands, I scanned each stall looking for the one dish I wash determined to have for lunch - Cuy or Guinea Pig to you and I. I'd been told previously that when in Rome you need to drink a Pisco Sour (done that) and sample the local delicacy. No luck with the Cuy but I did pick up great gifts including the second item which received Deb envy, my lush looking leather bracelet of Machu Picchu. I spent the next few hours or so soaking in the atmosphere of the market and the rest of Cuzco. I ended up at a purpose looking tourist restaurant, quietly confident I'd find the dish I was looking for. Sure enough, top of the menu (and the most expensive thing on it) was Cuy. The restaurant was so obviously touristy as it highlighted the traditional Peruvian dishes. I ordered the dish and sat back while it was on it's way. Cue a host of hawkers trying to sell the usual. The service took the usual amount of time, aside from the hawkers this wasn't a problem though, i'd well and truly got used to the Peruvian flow of time and was in no rush. I was brought a free lemonade as a bonus for having to wait which was nice and then eventually came the Cuy. Not sure what I was expecting but i'm guessing it wasn't what was lying on the plate. The body of a huge rodent and the severed head looking right back at me. First thing I did was cover the head with the salad, I ould have my guinea pig looking at me while I dined on it thank you very much. At this point I was joined by John and Terry (I swear they sound like a sit com from back in the day). They were fascinated by what they were seeing and that i'd taken the plunge, even more so than I was at this point! After a second faffing around I got stuck in and tried to find enough meat on it to justify ordering it. It may be a local delicacy and i'm glad i've tried it but i'm happy to put the Purple Book rules in place, I won't be ordering it again. And no it doesn't taste like chicken before you ask... Debs joined me halfway through, she was one of two people including Tracie that wasn't impressed before hand when I mentioned i'd be tracking it down but was intrigued none the less. After a while the meal wasn't impressing and the hawkers were starting to get a bit much so the two of us scarpered back to the hotel to sit in the sun and go through what we'd brought. We joined Terry and John in the sun and were later joined by H as we all sat back and relaxed. After a couple of hours we all retired to our rooms to get ready for the big night out. The ladies had been out shopping to get themselves kitted out, I had to make do with my Converse shoes and shirt i'd luckily brought with me.

The big night out, the ladies were all looking great, we were going for drinks and dancing at altitude. First stop would be the 'Fallen Angel' bar up the road. We walk into this place and are once again amazed by Peru. This place looked so cool, every wall and facet had something beautiful and quirky to look at. The bath full of fish made into a glass top table, the statue of a silver fallen angel, the pictures on the wall, the red devil toilet with the barbed wire and the blue angel toilet with the cracked mirrors. We all ordered a cocktail, alcoholic except for H, our devout christian. A firm favourite of mine, H proved to be the biggest surprise of the group for me. I'm a devout atheist so was a bit wary of someone I thought I wouldn't have much to do with on the trip. H though is able to be lovely and sweet without being over bearing. One of my super 6 she has the strength of soul greater than anyone i've ever met with nothing getting her down on the trip and always seeing the best in everyone and everything. The drinks we had were a shock to the system, drinking at altitude has an obvious effect, we were all feeling a bit dazed and confused. We moved onto the restaurant, semi drunk at this point but conscious enough to get there and eat without making complete exhibits of ourselves. It was then onto the first of two night clubs, a quirky place with great designs on the wall and a rather odd looking couple proving the entertainment.
There was a woman and an escapologist getting out of a straight jacket she'd just put him in. Cue the Pina Coladas and the dancing. The locals and other tourists stood back as the Brits showed everyone how it's done. This for the moment was out home ground, alcohol and club music brought out various shapes being thrown on the dance floor. The dance music was then replaced by a traditional Peruvian band. We gave each other a few knowing looks as we realised at that moment we were in a night club having beethoven music played back to us. A bit tricky to dance to we though so moved onto the salsa bar which was downstairs. This was more like it, black and white checked floor and salsa music playing. Those with the knowledge grabbed the nearest lady and showed their steps, everyone else (me included) tried to do the same with various degrees of success. At this stage it was only the Brits and the slightly 'maturer' kiwis had gone back to the hotel. After a couple of hours, with the knowledge of a full day's travel ahead we gradually began to filter back ourselves. I finished squashing everything I could back into my main luggage and backpack ready to leave later the following day.

Final morning in Peru, it was a subdued breakfast in the morning as we started to say goodbye to each other.  The kiwis left first for home then Tracie and Lisa went off to continue their adventure in the jungle. It was down to the final few, we had a couple of hours free so all went to spend it for the last bit of shopping and sight seeing. Debs was still eyeing up my leather bracelet so we went back to the market to look for one. We didn't find that but what we did find was a full on festival and military procession, once again Peru had managed to dazzle again. The streets were full of white balaclava wearing llama holders in one section and black balaclava wearers holding baby effergies in the other. Must get around to reading up the significance of this, Eddie and the other guides had already gone so I didn't have them to ask. We made out way back to the main square and saw rows of police, navy, army and special forces lined up for the ceremony. It had all the pomp and circumstance you'd find in London with the addition of people in jungle gear plus more of the black balaclava wearing brigade. The Peruvian and Incan flags were raised and I guess the national anthem sung. Security were an evident but relaxed presence at all time. On the way back to the hotel Debs found herself a friendly looking member of the drugs squad and even friendlier drugs dog named Lennon. We eventually all reconvened at the hotel, all very subdued in the knowledge we would be leaving our new found paradise. The rest was all flying, driving and airports. The pizza at the airport was a reminder of the lives we were all going back to. We said goodbye to H in Lima who was staying on to do missionary work and eventually got ourselves back to Heathrow. The rail air coach got me back to Reading and the biggest culture shock of all. I'd left the beautiful people of Cuzco and returned to the philistines of Reading. A group of twenty something football idiots swearing at everyone, one purposely bumping into me and calling me a twat and looking for a fight. A populous that speaks less English than the people i'd left back in Cuzco and the sheer lack of anything close to culture or direction in life. I was in full pining mode for the country i'd left behind, never before on the final day of a holiday have I not wanted to go home. I love my country but I well and truly despise my home town for what it has become, a sewer largely full of idiots whose only waking thought is what minor event they can tweet about next. #notinterested.

Enough of the preaching, back to what is good and worth writing about. There are so many highlights to talk about but i'll stick to a few memorable ones i'm pretty sure i've already missed so far. The introduction to the amazing chaskis were everyone introduced themselves to each other. The 'Puma Pee', Peru's most effective way of opening up the airways. Pour a bit into your hands, rub them together and clap 3 times then breathe in through the nose. Wow! The closest I came to cursing on the trip as it is very potent on the first and second breaths. The moment we all closed our eyes and walked hand in hand near the edge of the cliff and then all opened our eyes to see the view. THAT moment at Dead woman's pass, easily the most magical of the lot. Perhaps my favourite moment though was every meal time in the tent with the rest of the Pumas. We shared food, drink, jokes, ailments, medication to relieve said afflictions, funny moments and just each others company. Tea wasn't on a tray in front of the telly it was with an amazing group of people who had become my family, none more so than my super 6. Tracie the larger than life Geordie despite her height, Lisa her much quieter mate, solid on the trek and happy to let Tracie take the limelight. Sally Ann, watched my back on the final couple of days and a constant reassuring presence thoughout. Alison our youngest member from Ireland and now living in Cambridge who managed to look stunning even in the small hours of the morning. H who's smile never left her face and was our constant supplier of hugs and Debs who was the first person I met in Heathrow, gave me my new nickname and was a constant mate from start to finish. Jo and Henry had been our fantastic tour leaders from the start, we had to leave Jo in Peru with her new group of people (this time a much bigger group of 44) so it was Henry who brought us all home. Although they had to be strict with us at times, they helped get us to our destination in the best of health and spirits. Finally to our guides, especially Eddy and Oskar (Eddy is the correct spelling, can't see me going back and making all the changes...). I liked Oskar from the start with his great sounding voice, full of dry wit especially when he asked him to say certain phrases, cracked me up. Eddy though was undoubtedly the main man. He has such passion for his country and its culture and it's contagious. Peru was my dream trip and it has well and truly come true. Initial worries such as the heat, altitude and bugs were all quickly put aside and even my knees didn't spoil the occasion, even adding to the sense of accomplishment. I've managed to wear the rubber down completely on my trekking poles which i'm tempted to have mounted on the wall somewhere in thanks to their efforts. Walking through the sun gate at Inti Punku was the big cake which was covered in several cherries on top before and after.

I've tried with pictures and words to sum up how life affirming this experience has been for me but fear they'll never come close. If Peru or anywhere else in the world is your dream location then get yourself there. If you have anything in life you truly want to accomplish then no more excuses, get it done. There is no feeling in the world like accomplishing your dream, trust me. If like me you dream of Peru then wake up and start saving. You well never meet more honest friendlier people, see more amazing views  or experience anything more magical than 4 days on the Inca trail. At last i'm finally happy to be home as I plan the next chapter in the book, the next story to be told.

Rossifer x