Cusco, Peru

After sticking out a few days of miserable weather, the sun returned to Cusco and I was able to enjoy the city for what it is - a small yet charming place that at times feels almost like a time warp, such is the abundance of history evident within the city.

Cusco was the historic capital of the Inca Empire from the 13th into the 16th century until the Spanish conquest in 1536. In 1983 Cusco was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO and it has since become a major tourist destination, receiving nearly 2 million visitors a year. 

Arriving early on Monday evening, Tyler and I went out for dinner at the Shaman Raw Vegan restaurant. Being a staunch carnivore myself, I was a bit skeptical about eating just quinoa and vegetables for dinner. But I must say it was absolutely delicious and while I’m nowhere near giving up meat, it’s definitely opened my appetite to an entire new selection of food. It was so good that during my stay in Cusco I ended up hunting down a few other vegan and organic restaurants (it wasn’t hard, there are loads).

On Monday night I went out for dinner at Cafe Morena and just happened to bump into Rich and Christina (we were at the homestay in Puno together), so we shared dinner and talked for a couple of hours, ending with talk of a possible meeting in their hometown of Philadelphia someday.

Wednesday I did the free walking city tour, which was kind of disappointing, but they did take us to a nice lunch spot for Ceviche. In the afternoon I joined up with another city tour, this time much better and led by a knowledgable Cusqueña who took us to the stunning Santo Domingo Cathedral, and many ancient Inca archaelogical ruins - Sacsayhuamán (when the locals pronounce it, it literally sounds like they are saying “sexy woman”), Qenko, Puka, Qorikancha and Tambomachay.

The impressive Sacsayhuamán

Thursday I ended up spending the morning at Starbucks talking to the security guard - finding out about his life and what it’s like to live and work in Cusco. In the afternoon I visited the Arte Museum, which was kind of disappointing, but I wanted to get the most out of my Tourist Ticket, which costs 130 soles and lasts for 10 days, and includes entry to a range of tourist sites.

In the afternoon I took a walk through the San Pedro. Whilst sipping on my fresh juice, I noticed a sign marked “innards” in the back corner of the market. Kind of knowing what I was in for, I took a walk down the Innards aisle, but was a bit shocked to see them selling this (warning: innards!):

Innards at the San Pedro market

 On Friday, after a gym session I went for an “Inca Massage”. In Cusco, you learn quickly that anything that tourists may be interested in gets instantly enhanced by prefixing it with the word “Inca”. When in reality it makes no difference. Anyhow, I enjoyed my Inca Massage which was strangely similar to every other massage I’ve had, then headed to Paddy’s Pub to watch the Manchester United game.

In the evening I met up with some friends from Couchsurfing and we ate dinner at, surprise, a vegan restaurant - called Green Point.

The weekend was filled with more tours using my tourist ticket. On Saturday it was to Maras/Moray and Sunday I finished off the ruins by taking the Sacred Valley tour. During which I met some girls from Texas, and we spent my last night in Cusco sampling the city's street meat offerings and then hitting a couple of bars and clubs.

I’ll be back here in about 2 weeks to begin one of the biggest milestones of my trip, the 4 day trek to Machu Picchu. My 6 month anniversary will incidentally fall during this time, and while I had no intention of planning it that way, it will be quite a fitting moment to celebrate the date.

Puno, Peru

Although I stayed in Puno for 3 nights, I didn’t really find any time to explore the city, bar a brief walk into the main square to get some cash out late Sunday evening.

The main reason for visiting Puno was to see Lake Titicaca, from the Peruvian side. With it was also an opportunity to stay with a local family on one of the nearby islands, which sounded like an interesting experience. It turned out to be just that, but partially for the wrong reasons.

I arrived in Puno on Friday night and after spending much of the day on the bus, went straight to bed. I was picked up early on Saturday morning and taken to the harbour with a bunch of other tourists, all of whom I’d be spending my time with on the islands tour.

Our first stop was Uros, a floating island made completely out of reeds. Although impressive, you couldn’t help but ask “Why?”. The islands are only a couple of meters thick, and have to be reinforced with cut reeds every day. The islands themselves last for 30 years, until a new island is built and the inhabitants are forced to move, their old home breaking apart and sinking.

A hut on the floating island of Uros

In saying that, it was an impressive sight and made all the more impressive when we saw one little hut equipped with electricity and cable TV.

After Uros it was a slow boat to Amantani, where we would be staying the night. We relaxed in the square and were treated to a song and dance by the locals - who soon after proceeded to get wasted drunk. In the evening we took a hike to a few lookout points some 4,100m above sea level to witness a beautifully cold sunset.

We spent the night with 3 others at a local family’s house, who were super kind and extremely welcoming to us. Unfortunately there’s not much in the way of food on the island so our meals consisted of potatoes and … more potatoes. Although with over 3,000 different types of potatoes to be found in Peru, they don’t really have a choice. After dinner we donned some local clothes and were taken to a live music show and … I wish I could see we tried to learn the traditional dance, but with so many gringos in the audience I’m ashamed to say it eventually resorted to a conga line.

On Sunday morning we were taken to the last island of the tour - Taquile. A bit smaller and with less to see, it was still a nice place to walk around and enjoy the beautiful scenery. Unfortunately, this is when the day started to take a turn for the worse. Bad conditions in the water meant our little boat couldn’t handle the ride back. We spent a couple of hours waiting on news from the coastguard, but the conditions weren’t improving.

Our guide informed us that there was the option of getting a speedboat to pick us up from Taquile and take us to Puno, and that it was only an hour or so away. A few more hours of waiting and we had begun to lose hope, thinking we’d have to spend the night on an island again.

The sun disappeared behind the island and as such the temperature dropped significantly. We huddled together and waited at the harbour for any kind of direction from our guide, who seemed to have about as much of a clue as we did. I’ll spare you the boring minute-by-minute details, but by around 8PM (4 hours after we were supposed to arrive back in Puno), the speedboat came to pick us up. Amidst the stampede of people all desperate to get on the boat, surprisingly none of us fell in the water and we made it back safely.

It wasn’t quite the tranquil experience I had of Lake Titicaca from Bolivia, but it was interesting to spend the night with a family and see how they survive with very little.

So after the runaround on the island Sunday night, the train ride from Puno to Cusco came at the right time. I’d done some research before arriving in Puno and heard about the Andean Explorer. A stunning train ride crossing the Andes and highlands of Peru, following the route of Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo.

The scenery was spectacular. Making our way through numerous tiny villages nested in between mountain ranges, you would often see little kids rushing out of their homes, or interrupting their football games to come out and wave at us. I could've hung out the window with my camera for the entire journey, but at some point I had to put my feet up and enjoy the moment.

It was a truly first class experience as we were treated to 3 meals, pisco sours and live performances from traditional Peruvian bands. Not quite suitable for a travellers budget, but on trips like this you have to spoil yourself every now and then!

Arequipa, Peru

It felt kind of strange walking down Mercaderes and seeing Starbucks, KFC, and Pizza hut lining the streets. I opted for dinner at a local cafe instead, recommended by the Indian guy in my room who came out for a walk. It was a long day spent on buses, so after dinner I called it a night.

The next morning I joined the free walking tour, which took us all over the city centre - to restaurants, museums, cathedrals, and even chocolate factories. I had lunch at La Benita and experienced a true Peruvian lunch - a huge, heavy, starchy meal that left me struggling to finish. Something rare for me and food.

Arequipa is a beautiful, European-like (note: never been to Europe) city. It doesn’t feel very South American and is certainly a huge contrast to what I experienced in Bolivia. So it was a great city to spend some time in, and celebrate my 5 month anniversary of leaving home. Luckily it happened to fall on a Saturday night.

I’d made friends with Eddy, a high roller from Manhattan and he brought along two girls from France for dinner and some drinks. A few drinks turned into a few more drinks, and before we knew it we were at a VIP table, taking selfies with expensive drinks (hey, we were well drunk by this stage) and partying at the multi-story nightclub Forum. It was the perfect way to dust out the cobwebs and celebrate 5 months on the road, with some really fun people who had become good friends in less than 48 hours of us meeting.

With the little sleep I had on Saturday night, I mustered up the energy to visit the Santa Catalina Monastery with Eddy. It’s a huge, beautifully coloured place built in the 17th century that now only houses about 20 nuns. It actually feels like it’s own little city within Arequipa. After walking around there for a while I had no more energy, so went back to the hostel for a nap before dinner.

On Monday I tried something different - a Peruvian cooking class. Located conveniently across the road from the hostel, we whipped up some local foods - Causa for entrée and Lomo Saltado for mains. The cost of the course was worth it because the chef had me, an otherwise terrible cook, making roses out of tomatoes like this:

It had been more than a couple of days in Arequipa before I’d actually done any serious sightseeing, so Tuesday was set aside for a 2 day trek of the Colca Canyon.

With a depth of 3,270 m, the Colca Canyon is one of the deepest in the world, more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the United States. It’s a colourful Andean valley with pre-Inca roots, and towns founded in Spanish colonial times, still inhabited by people of the Collagua and the Cabana cultures. The local people maintain their ancestral traditions and continue to cultivate the pre-Inca stepped terraces.

We had to wake up at 2AM on Tuesday morning to be ready for the bus. We hadn’t even begun any hiking and it was already hard. On the way we stopped for breakfast and a viewpoint for spotting Condors, which there were many. Then it was time to start the trek. A total of about 6 hours trekking to the bottom of the canyon, where we were to stay the night. By the time we arrived we were all exhausted, so we had a quick meal then went to bed.

Then, at 4AM it was time to get up again. Still aching, we began a 3 hour uphill trek back out of the canyon. Just like Death Road, I pushed myself to exhaustion to see how fast I could make it up, and ended up clocking in at around 1 hour 45 minutes. Then our guide crushed my sense of achievement by telling me he once did it in 55 minutes.

Our group after the hard trek out of the Colca Canyon

We demolished a breakfast, and soon after, lunch - then took the long drive back to the hostel, most of us falling asleep on the way. 

So, the rest of my time here in Arequipa was spent recovering from the past 2 days in the Colca Canyon. This morning I visited Mummy Juanita at the Museo Santuarios, the well-preserved body of a frozen Inca girl from the 15th century, regarded as one of the world’s top 10 discoveries. And tomorrow I’ll take the bus back down to Puno. Yes, I'm going back down from the way I came, but the intention was always to head back to Puno to take the train - a supposedly beautifully scenic journey through the Andes - to Cusco.

Copacabana, Bolivia

Well, I didn’t quite rest as much as I had planned. But what a stunning place.

I arrived early Tuesday afternoon and headed to a place I was recommended by some friends whilst touring Salar de Uyuni - Hostel La Cúpula. I took a gamble on them having a cancellation as they are usually booked out, and met an English guy at reception trying to do the same. Luckily I was able to get a room, and it was probably one of the best they had. A single suite, with another room with a hammock, with this view:

I was initially going to spend one night here and one night on Isla del Sol, but after seeing how beautiful this place was, I opted to stay there for 2 nights and instead spent all of Wednesday at Isla del Sol.

The next morning at the boat harbour, I bumped into Matt (the English guy I met at the Hostel reception), so we hopped on the same boat to Isla del Sol.

Travel seems to have a funny way of leading your path into the same people. Matt and I were keen on hiking the length of the island from North to South, and I just happened to bump into Mike before begun the hike. I met Mike at my hostel in La Paz, and he was travelling with a few girls who didn’t fancy it. So Matt, Mike and I set off.

Knowing that we had to be at the boat harbour on the south of the island by 3:30pm to get back to Copacabana, we were told we had barely enough time to complete the trek. It was fairly difficult on it’s own, with plenty of uphill struggles scattered along the way. The scenery was out of this world though. You quickly forget that you’re looking at a lake, it’s so huge you just naturally assume it’s the ocean. But you’re 3,800m above the sea level. The water looks unlike anything I’ve seen - it’s incredibly smooth and a such a rich shade of blue you think it’s been edited. On top of that, in the distance you have an incredible backdrop of snow capped mountains. The pictures below barely do it justice.

We ended up smashing the trek, exhausted but making it with an hour or so to spare. Our bodies were aching from the waist down, and we were covered it in dust. But the sense of achievement made the beers afterwards all the more sweeter.

Bolivia hasn't been the easiest country to travel through. There have been many difficulties (some legitimate, some "first world problems") faced since arriving in Santa Cruz - the cold, the altitude, the language, the always unpredictable bus and plane rides, the bad coffee, the shitty hostels. But it's also part of Bolivia's beauty. If you can put up with all of this, and you should, you're treated to an incredibly interesting, cultural, and naturally beautiful country. And I'm glad I did. 

La Paz, Bolivia

After having that well deserved hot shower, I headed into the city to replace the pants that I split in the Salt Flats.

I’d booked my first night in La Paz at the Wild Rover Hostel with Will and Klaus, knowing that one night on the booze would be enough for me. Renowned as a party hostel, I got what was expected - full of Brits and Australians, everyone getting wasted and wanting to visit the infamous cocaine bar, Route 36. I don’t do drugs, but went along for the experience anyway.

The next day I moved hostels and met up with Grace from Couchsurfing. We took the cable car (recently introduced to La Paz in 2014) up to El Alto, a neighbourhood perched high upon the outskirts of La Paz which has a beautiful view of the city.

El Alto. A poor neighbourhood, but with a fantastic view of La Paz.

In La Paz I was lucky enough to make friends with a couple of locals, which for me always makes the experience of a city much more genuine and enjoyable. Seneiya took me out on Sunday to try the Sopa de Mani (a traditional Bolivian soup), and in the afternoon I met up with Brayan to go on a mini food tour of the streets of La Paz. Having someone from the city was the only way I was going to try any of the sketchy looking street foods.

Most people visiting La Paz make sure not to miss one thing - Death Road. It’s a 62 kilometre downhill ride, starting at 4,700m above sea level linking La Paz to Coroico. As the name suggests, it’s an incredibly dangerous road and although the numbers have dropped significantly in recent years, a 2006 estimate stated that 200 to 300 travellers died every year.

I don't think Death Road is the kind of experience you want to hunt around for the cheapest price, so I went with a company which came highly recommended - Gravity. Before beginning the downhill portion of the ride, our guide gave us the choice of attempting a 30 minute uphill ride or taking the bus. Of course all the guys in the group said yes, not having any clue how hard it really is to ride uphill at 3,500m above sea level.

Playing competitive sport for my whole life, naturally I wanted to win, so I gunned it up the first hill... And was completely exhausted. I've never been so desperate for oxygen in my life, it felt like I was drowning. I spent the next 20 minutes gasping for air, trying to recover and yet still climb the remaining hills. Eventually I made it to the end where I devoured a sandwich and Powerade in seconds. 

As the ride went on I became more comfortable with the bike and the conditions, so by the end of it I was flying around the corners. It felt safe enough, although in the back of my mind I always felt I was one unlucky accident away from a disaster.

Our bus, carefully making it's way around Death Road

With some energy left in the tank, I spotted another activity which would get my heart going - Urban Rush. It's a 50m descent from the 17th floor of Hotel Presidente, and it was so good I did it twice.

By Thursday my body had almost given up on me, and compounded with the effects of altitude, I spent all day in bed.

On Friday I took a day tour to Chacaltaya and Valle de la Luna. A minibus picked us up in the morning (late as they had to change a tyre), and proceeded to take us on a very dangerous looking road (not unlike Death Road) and stopped 200m short of the summit. Although it was only a 200m walk to the summit, at 5,421m above sea level you were pretty much limited to a slow walk to avoid passing out. The view at the top however was stunning and well worth the effort.

At the summit of Chacaltaya. Huayna Potosí in the background.

I woke up on Sunday short of sleep and nursing a slight hangover (thanks to a cool party at Seneiya’s friend’s house). But there were a few more things I wanted to check out in La Paz, so I met up with Brayan to check out the El Alto markets - one of the world’s biggest markets where you can find literally everything. From brand new cars to strange pets, clothes, food and electronics. In the evening we went to see the Cholitas wrestling - a cheesy touristic event where the traditional Bolivian women have it out inside a boxing ring. Still, it was good for a laugh.

In between all of this, much of my time was spent people watching in front of the San Francisco church over a fresh juice from the Mercado Lanza. The markets are a fantastic place to visit for fresh snacks and produce at incredibly cheap prices, and it's actually one of the reasons why franchises such as McDonalds have failed to have an impact in Bolivia.

For my last day in La Paz I had planned a tour to see the ancient Inca ruins of Tiwanaku. Although like I’ve said before, things in Bolivia don’t always go to plan and for some reason the tour bus never showed up. But considering the amount things I’ve squeezed into the past week or so, a day’s rest is not a bad thing. Tomorrow I’ll finally leave this exciting, yet exhausting city for Copacabana and a much needed change of pace.

Warning! The gallery below contains an image of dead llamas - supposedly good luck for the sellers at the Witches Markets.

Uyuni, Bolivia

Bolivia keeps on throwing more curveballs, yet I’m becoming more and more attracted to it.

Thinking we were taking the easy way out by flying to La Paz, it ended up being the most nervous two flights of my life. I don’t know if it was because we were flying over huge mountain ranges, or the fact that they were such short flights - but they had some of the most violent turbulence I’ve ever experienced. It appeared to be the norm for the airline staff and locals flying, although Will and I exchanged a few pale looks and nervous laughs as the plane threw us around during takeoff for each flight.

But we made it in one piece. We met up with Klaus at the airport and, walking past a couple of tourists hooked up to oxygen masks (we were now at 3,650m above sea level), we grabbed our bags and took a taxi to the hostel.

Having only one day in La Paz before heading to Uyuni, we took the opportunity to go on a walking city tour. Although probably too quick, it was a good introduction to what La Paz has to offer. We visited the infamous San Pedro Prison (made famous by the book “Marching Powder”, which seems to be the book of choice for all tourists visiting South America), the Witches Market (where every stall you walk past has a couple of dead baby llama’s hanging up for “good luck”), and a couple of historical churches and plazas.

It was then time to catch our overnight bus to Uyuni, and begin our tour of the famous Salar de Uyuni. Spanning 10,582 square kilometres, Salar de Uyuni is the world’s largest salt flat. It is located in in Potosí in southwest Bolivia, near the crest of the Andes and is at an elevation of 3,656 metres above sea level.

Having never taken a bus in Bolivia before (but hearing plenty about it), we opted for the Cama (most comfortable) option. It was all well and good until around midnight where we were swapped into a far worse bus for no apparent reason. Not only that, we proceeded to take an off-road route, constantly being thrown up out of our seats for the following 6 hours. Needless to say I got very little, if any sleep that night.

Pulling in to Uyuni at around 6AM, we immediately felt the cold and were reluctant to get off the bus. We tried to stay on for as long as we could, but for fear of losing our bags we soon hopped off. The -4˚C swept straight through all four layers of clothes. Losing feeling in our fingers and toes, we walked around the city in hope of finding a place to drop our bags and warm up. Of course at this time of the morning, nothing was open and so we resorted to playing with the stray dogs to keep the cold at bay.

At 7:30 we were able to check in with the Red Planet Tours agency and headed off for breakfast. Then at 11AM we begun our 3 day tour of Salar de Uyuni.

Being stuck in a car for days on end with the same people can be great fun or a horrible experience. Luckily, we had a great group of solo travellers and we all got along really well. After loading up the 4X4, we begun day 1 which included visiting an old train graveyard, a salt miner’s workshop, and the famous salt flat itself. We were then treated to lunch at a salt hotel.

The Salar is covered by a few meters of salt crust, which has an extraordinary flatness. The large area, clear skies, and the flatness of the surface make it an ideal object for taking notoriously touristic photos like this:

We spent the night at a salt hostel in the small village of Atulcha. Even though we had about 4 layers of clothes and 4 blankets each, it was still unbelievably freezing. Somehow, I managed to have a decent nights sleep. The worst fear before falling asleep was having to wake up during the night to use the toilet!

Day 2 was long. Getting up at 6AM, we spent the whole day visiting various volcanoes, lagoons, huge rock formations and animals (llamas and flamingos to name a few). Although exhausting, the landscapes we drove through were incredible, and at times you could be forgiven for thinking you were on Mars.

Afterwards we were taken to the top of a huge volcano called Sol de Mañana (5,000 metres above sea level) where we stepped around the crater to see bubbling pots of mud caused by volcanic activity (the mud was over 100˚C). We were then taken to our accommodation for the night, a small village called Polcas which sits at an altitude of 4,300m above sea level.

The highlight of the tour for me was saved until after dinner. After being treated to some spaghetti bolognese and a glass of Bolivian red wine, we walked outside in the dark to a nearby natural hot spring (caused by the previously mentioned volcano). Being so incredibly cold outside, we quickly stripped down into our swimming gear and stepped into the spring... Absolute bliss. At around 40˚C, it was the warmest we'd been in days. And once we got used to the water, we looked up and were treated to the best view of the stars I've ever seen in my life. You could see shades of the Milky Way arching across the sky, and within it we spotted dozens of shooting stars. It was another one of those fleeting moments I've had on this trip, where you just need to sit back, forget about everything and just appreciate where you are in the world at that point in time.

The final day we visited a few more lagoons and deserts, and then made the long drive back to Uyuni. We arrived just in time to pack our bags, then take another overnight bus back to La Paz.

Almost as good as the hot springs was the feeling of having a nice, warm shower at the hostel when I arrived back in La Paz. After 2 overnight bus rides, 3 days exploring the dusty terrain of Uyuni and no showers in between, it felt good to be clean again. But it was an experience well worth being dirty for.

Sucre, Bolivia

Sucre promised a break from the miserable weather of Santa Cruz, and it delivered. It was just what I needed to adjust to life in Bolivia.

A quick 30 minute flight over some beautiful mountains and valleys and I had arrived. Freezing and with the hostel pretty empty, I walked to a local bar and sat down for a meal and some drinks. I ended up drinking with a Scottish girl named Kelda for the rest of the night (and survived) and spent the next day or so with her and her friends exploring the city on foot.

Sucre is renowned as a place where travellers hang around longer than initially expected. A lot of time is spent in cafes, restaurants, or just walking around the city and appreciating the year long spring climate. It's no surprise I ended up staying here for longer than a week. Although there were other factors at play for that decision, which I'll get to later.

On Tuesday myself and a few others took a tour out to the Maragua Crater, a beautiful place just outside of Sucre. It involved a relatively small Inca trail that was previously used by the indigenous people to get obsidian from the crater, for use in making weapons to fight the Spanish. Now, inside the 10km wide crater is a small town which is home to many farms and even a school of around 300 children.

The next day I went with a group from the hostel on the walking city tour, which is probably one of the best city tours I’ve done so far. It was run by a local student, with the profits going to a Bolivian charity. Our guide took us to a many of historical points of the city and explained their importance - one of particular interest being the shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Sucre. Housed in a Chapel in the middle of town, it has been adorned with so many jewels that it has been estimated that the sale of these gems would make Bolivia one of the riches countries in Latin America.

Our guide also showed us the best places to eat at the central markets, and in the afternoon we stopped by the local watering hole for a drink. We had some beer and then tasted a Bolivian specialty ‘Chicha’, which the women prepare by chewing on corn and spitting it into a bowl. The saliva is supposed to assist the fermentation process, but it could also just be a great trick to play on tourists.

Afterwards, our group was standing outside chatting and I stopped to take what looked like at the time an interesting photo - an old man perched up against the wall of a two tone house. It turns out he was incredibly drunk and just as I took the photo, he begun to fall...

We rushed over to see if he was okay, and called an ambulance for good measure. And the tour went on! We finished up at La Recoleta, a popular vantage point of Sucre which gave us this incredible view:

The view of Sucre from La Recoleta

For many tourists, after Sucre the next logical step is by bus to a nearby town called Potosí. At just over 4,000m above sea level, it’s home to an infamous mine whereby the workers suffer incredibly difficult conditions for little to no pay. Unfortunately, there was quite a serious riot ongoing which is preventing any buses from making it there (or even to the next city, Uyuni).

So after trying to wait it out for a couple of days, we soon discovered we were kind of stranded in Sucre. We visited the bus terminal in search of tickets to Potosí or Uyuni, but there were none available. Word was getting around about the amount of road blocks, and even incidents of fires, tyres being slashed and rocks thrown at the buses was not uncommon. Even the people who had managed to get a ticket had no guarantee of getting there, and a lot of them returned back to Sucre.

In the end, Will, Klaus and I opted to bite the bullet and get a flight out this evening to La Paz - and go down to Uyuni from there. Not ideal, but luckily I'm the position of having plenty of time and flexibility in my schedule (for now - less than 8 months to go!).

Santa Cruz, Bolivia

I’ve said before that I don’t like saying a city is boring or “doesn’t have anything to do”, so my account of Santa Cruz is purely MY experience with the city, and not a comment on the city itself.

After crossing the border from Corumbá in Brazil, I took a bus from Quijarro to Santa Cruz - leaving at about 7:30pm that night. I’d heard about the “Death Train” but learned this was just a name given to the train as it was previously used to transport victims of Yellow Fever, rather than a particularly dangerous or exciting trip.

The bus was pretty comfortable so I slept in parts for most of the night. I woke up at about 5AM with everyone getting off the bus, so I presumed we had arrived. Pitch black and pouring down with rain, I grabbed my backpack and headed to the nearest taxi driver - only to find none of them had any idea where my hostel was. I stood for about 10 minutes literally thinking “What am I going to do?”, then remembered I had saved a Wikitravel article about Santa Cruz on my phone, so there was bound to be another hostel address on there. 

I found one other address for a hostel, so we drove through the flooded streets of Santa Cruz, only to find the hostel doesn’t exist anymore! He took me to another nearby hostel which was thankfully open, and I slept on their couch until the sun came up. Then, I grabbed my bags and walked across town to the hostel I initially intended to stay at.

On the first day I was lucky enough to get a break in the rain (mostly) to wander around the city for a couple of hours. The city seems to lack the vibrance and relaxed happiness that I was so used to in Brazil. Strangers I tried to ask for help or directions appeared timid and unwilling to help, and the dull buildings amidst the flooded streets and grey sky didn’t give Santa Cruz a welcoming feeling.

I was lucky however to make a friend off Couchsurfing, who was able to provide some much needed company, as well as a bit of an insight into the city and it’s people. We hung out for lunch, then went back to her parents place where I met her family. I watched a movie with her brother Rafael then listened to Frances play piano whilst I “read” (they were all in Spanish) some books on Bolivia.

I almost didn’t take any photos at all, which I wasn’t happy about. But on the last day, a few hours before I was due to go to the airport, the clouds opened up just a little. I walked into the main square and took a few snaps, but sadly they all look kind of gloomy. Which in a way is kind of fitting for my experience of the city. The best picture however, was this one, taken at Frances’ house:

Corumbá, Brazil


I first visited Brazil in 2012 on my first ever solo journey. I remember enjoying it at the time, but I didn't think I'd be back again for a while.

For whatever the reasons (there are many) I've returned twice since that trip. And whilst I barely have a grasp on the language, it's probably now the country I feel most comfortable in outside Australia. 

The first two visits were more of touristic style - in 2012 for Carnaval and in 2014 for the FIFA World Cup. But by that point I was so fascinated by the country, I wanted to come back and see the rest of it. I wanted to experience its rich, diverse culture and as I've found - each city has this in bucket loads.

If someone asked me to describe Brazil in one word I’d probably say “Who are you?” and “Why are you asking me questions with silly conditions attached to them?”. Brazil is an enormously diverse country in every sense of the word. From the north to the south, you could almost accept that it's an entirely different country. The food, language, accent, attitude and appearance are vastly different and the changes in each of these are evident from city to city.

In all of my time in Brazil I’ve had some of the most amazing experiences of my life. I've been on tour groups, been alone for days, made friends from all over the world, met up with friends from Australia, been accepted into the homes of locals and treated like a son, stayed at 5 star hotels, stayed at hostels that smelled of poo, fallen in love, said goodbye too many times to many friends I may never see again in my life (I hope not) and even helped some friends move to Australia.

Today marks 4 months since I left Australia for my year long journey. One thing I had planned from the beginning was to travel a "circle" around Brazil for 3 months before going on to explore the rest of South and Central America. Well, I loved this place so much that I extended my tourist visa so I could stay for another month. And it has been more than worth it.

So now as I begin to plan my way into Bolivia, I've had a bit of time to reflect on my time in Brazil. All of it wouldn't have been possible without the people I've met in this fascinating country. Travelling alone can be difficult at times, but I owe it to the people I've met here for making my experience of this country something truly special that I'll never forget. Without them, it would just be a lot of good food and misunderstandings.

Every stop in my 4 month journey around Brazil

Bonito, Brazil

Almost everyone I had met in Brazil had told me what a beautiful and expensive place Bonito (literally “beautiful” in Portuguese) is to visit. Although it wasn’t until I'd spent some time there that I realised just how beautiful, and expensive it really is.

Bonito is located in the state of Mato Grosso do Sul, and is being discovered as the "Caribe do Centro-Oeste" (Caribbean of the Central-West) due to the unbelievable blue colour of its waters. Owing to the enormous quantity of limestone in the ground, the water of these rivers passes through a natural filter where impurities are deposited at the bottom of the river bed, leaving the rivers to be some of the clearest and most transparent in the world.

I arrived on Friday night after a few hours drive from my lodge in the Pantanal. During the drive I met a couple of guys from France who ended up staying in my dorm, so the next day we hired some bikes and rode to Balneario Municipal. Whilst a beautiful place in itself, here we barely scratched the surface of what Bonito has to offer in terms of stunning nature and wildlife.

Back at the hostel that night I met Luiza, a film director from São Paulo who invited me out with some friends to a local bar for some Cachaca and live music. 

On Sunday Luiza and I visited Estancia Mimosa with a few others from the hostel. What struck me on the drive there was not only how beautifully serene the countryside is in Bonito, but it is actually spotless and extremely well preserved. All of the tourist spots in Bonito are located on privately owned farms, so the tours generally consist of small groups and include private transport to and from the farm, as well as a delicious Brazilian buffet lunch and dessert usually cooked over a fire from locally grown ingredients.

A local guide took us on a walking tour of a trail around the farm's forest, where we stopped at countless waterfalls to swim, dive and even explore a few caves. What helped was some beautiful weather, and having Luiza around to take photos like this:

Estancia Mimosa

Monday was another big day. In the morning we visited Rio da Prata where we snorkelled about 2 kilometres down a river so clear that it looked like the fish were floating in thin air. Then in the afternoon we visited the nearby Lagoa Misteriosa for some scuba diving. 

Lagoa Misteriosa (Mysterious Lake) was discovered in 1992, and in 1998 a Brazilian named Gilberto Menezes de Oliveira dived down to 220m - and still didn’t find the bottom. Only having our Open Water Diver certification, Luiza and I could only dive down to 200m less than what Gilberto did, yet the beauty of it still blew us away.

Scuba diving with Luiza in Lagoa Misteriosa

My last full day in Bonito was saved for what was to be the the most breathtaking of all the activities here -  Abismo Anhumas. The easy part was rappelling 72 metres down into the cave; the fun part was scuba diving in an underground, crystal clear lake 80 metres deep, with the area equivalent to the size of a football field; the hard part was rappelling back up out of the cave, manoeuvring around some of the largest underwater stalagmites in the world, up to 18 metres high.

Abismo Anhumas

It felt like you would need two weeks to complete all the activities here in Bonito, and they would all be stunning. You’d be broke by the end of it - but you know you’re really enjoying a place when you don’t give a second thought to the huge amounts of money you’re spending there. Bonito came with high recommendations and it’s probably one of the most, if not the most visually pleasing place I’ve ever visited. And I just so happened to get lucky again and make friends with a special person in Luiza who could not only take brilliant photos, but was great company to have whilst enjoying this 'bonito' part of Brazil.