Chapter 24: It's a Small World After All

Twelve months ago I asked the question 'Is this World all it's cracked up to be?' Let me see....

Through 5 continents and 19 countries we walked the Great Wall of China, trekked through mountains in Vietnam, watched the sun rise over Angkor Wat, partied through the night on Thai beaches, went diving at the Great Barrier Reef, camped under the stars in the Aussie Outback, gazed up at the fireworks over Sydney Harbor on New Years Eve, Island Hopped around Fiji, jumped out of a plane in New Zealand, climbed to the top of the Franz Josef Glacier, watched the Cup Final in Buenos Aires, met Jesus in Brazil, stayed in a Salt Hotel on the Bolivian Salt Plains, survived the Worlds Most Dangerous Road, hiked the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, watched a Broadway show in New York, I could go on....

Planet Earth

But perhaps more important than the places we visited and the things we saw are the people we met. Some we only knew for an hour, others, like some sort of groinal tropical rash, we couldn't get rid of for 6 months (I'm looking at you Maycock). Some of you opened your homes, some of you opened your wallets, some of you even opened your legs(!!) but all of you opened your hearts and for these reasons.... I salute you.

Join the Caravan of Love

You people showed us that groups of complete strangers coming from all walks of life can live, work and play together in peace and harmony (especially when there are no bloody Italians). Should any of our friends overseas find themselves washed up on the shores of our green and pleasant land, I'm sure neither of us will be too busy for a beer or two and reminisce about the good old days. You will find us in a small town in the south west of England, not far from Stonehenge. To most people it is simply known as 'The Centre of the Universe', but those of us who know it best call it by a different name....

Welcome to Hell

As a race, we English are quite lazy at learning other languages. So while away I did my best to right this wrong. I can now say 'My frog has a small brain, but she is very pretty' in Spanish, 'Would you like a drink? I'm lovin' it!' in German and 'Don't m*****bate over those photos of us' in French. All useful stuff and I am hoping to drop these and other such phrases into my day to day conversation.

As well as foreign languages, I have also learnt a lot about life in general. Below are my 7 key rules for a successful World Tour:

1. Chinese people cannot operate umbrellas safely - stay well out of their way.
2. Don't go on a date and order a pineapple - you will just look daft.
3. If you have to ride a moped, do it as far away from Hanoi as possible.
4. Don't eat before praying in Fiji unless you want to get a bollocking from a woman who looks like a cross between Moira Stuart and Jonah Lomu.
5. Thai buckets & Go Johnny Go Go Go Go are a wicked combination. Try it!
6. Don't get into a conversation with Germans about dental hygiene.

and most importantly....

7. Don't accidently see a friend naked on her bed with her legs apart and try to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation by saying "Hey! It looks just like the Batcave!"

So there we have it. The trip is over, but what a time it's been. There has been a bit of blood, a lot of sweat and even one or two tears. Pearls of wisdom from a friend of ours:

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

The only question that needs answering now is what's next for Team Excellent Adventure? The answer, my friends, is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind...

The End

Chapter 23: Poles Apart

Did I say one more adventure? Shit. I meant two.

So Bermuda is pretty much how it looks in the pictures. Turquoise waters, fine pink sands and generously poured cocktails. After a year of sleeping in 12 bed dorms, tents and the back of a van, my Aunt and Uncle's water front house was pure luxury. Even on the flight over I got a free seat upgrade, goody bag and all food and drink was free. "More of anything?", "More of everything!!"

Pretty much spent the week on the beaches and in the bars. There was a most bizarre incident. Whilst sipping a dark and stormy and watching the cricket I happened to glance on another television screen and what did I see? My beautiful face staring right back at me! It was a documentary about European football clubs that are owned and run by the fans - and there I was, at Wimbledon, shouting angrily at someone. Weird.

Did some snorkeling and hired the biggest, meanest, most powerful motorbike the island had to offer. I called him 'Desert Storm'.

I'll never forget him, the Leader of the Pack

Played with their parrot, Midori, at my uncle's bar and drove around on the bike with him happily sat on my shoulder. That bird is a chick magnet. People even stopped us to take photos. All he has to do to is squalk "Hey, how are ya? Midori, Midori, Midori!" and hot girls come running. Sure, when he does it it's cute, when I tried the same thing that night in the bar "How are ya? Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas" people just looked at me like I was on day release. Upstaged by a fucking parrot.

My 'Wingman'

So for my final night in Bermuda I went out for dinner with Barbara and Chris and then to a few bars with Auntie for a 'couple' of goodbye drinks. Got home at 3:30 and realised neither of us had a key. Barbara had to call through the window but fortunately Chris was only too happy to get up and let us in; "Do you two know what f*cking time it is!!!!"

Family Fortunes

So the end of Bermuda also signalled the end of the trip..... sort of. The ticket in my hand said 'London' but the voice in my head said 'Warsaw'....... and I've always liked the little voices.....

Due to some monstrumental fuck ups, getting from JFK to Poland took 2 trains, 2 taxis, 3 planes, a monorail and over $1000. It seemed the only sensible thing to do was get drunk. Vodka and coke in the bar at JFK was $11 or a litre of duty free Smirnoff was $14. I knew who's team I was on. However, due to 'airport regulations' I wasn't allowed my vodka until I was on the plane and it got shipped all the way to Warsaw, making me the first person in history to take duty free vodka into Poland.

So Warsaw is pretty crap. Everything is grey, the sun doesn't shine and unless you have a particular interest in Jewish cultural heritage there really isn't a lot to do so you need a good reason to visit the place. As it happens, I had a pretty good reason.....

.....Heloise

She's part Swiss, part French, part Vietnamese, part Polish, part lion, part robot, part special needs child.... well you get the picture. She's not as pretty as Rich and certainly doesn't smell as nice, but I put up with her all the same.

You know you are in a city with little to do when you find yourself in your hotel room, in the middle of the day watching 'Bring It On' in Polish. As best I could make out the black girls didn't like the white girl but the white girls did. Then the white girls didn't like the white girl but the black girls did and half way through the film someone ordered a pizza. Thank god for that Smirnoff.

My 'Swiss Barmy Wife'

So after 5 days in Poland, with a heavy heart and blubbing like a schoolgirl who's kitten had just had an unfortunate run in with next door's Toyota Corolla, the time has come to board my final plane. Destination: Home.

So the adventure may be over, but there is one final chapter that the World must read.......

Chapter 22: You Can Hear It In My Accent When I Talk...

I'm an Englishman in New York.... and so is Rich.

Had a nightmare getting to New York from Peru. Goddamn anus at US customs holding everyone up so missed a connection and got stuck in Florida. Had to buy myself some pretend pilot wings with the name 'Randy' on to cheer myself up. Got to New York tired and hungry. I was determined to blank my mind from the stereotype that all Americans are stupid. Went to get some lunch. With my meal came a little sachet with the words 'SALT - contains salt' written on.

Rich and I ate dinner at the Seinfeld restaurant while we waited for our loving friend and fellow Trowbridgian Cara to arrive. We stayed at a hostel in Harlem and on day 1 Rich saw a man in the street on all fours, urinating, with his fingers stuck up his bottom, Cara was chased by a man in the street with a python and I was publicly forgiven for my involvement in 400 years of slave trading. Better late than never I guess.

Went to Macy's and saw Beyonce then took a stroll over Brooklyn Bridge.

Angels of Harlem

We spent the evening at Coney Island. Went on the ghost train and big wheel. Also collected tickets from a shooting range and very addictive Deal or No Deal arcade machine. Largely thanks to Cara's dealing skills we had enough for 3 USA badges, 3 globe key rings, a toy gun, a whoopee cushion and a Chinese finger trap. Quite the impressive haul I think. Had beer and hotdogs down by the pier. Cara blew up the ketchup dispenser.

We had a Wheely Good Time

For a little culture we went to the Natural History Museum. To be honest was fairly crap, but I did find out that if I lived on a Neutron star I would weigh 2 and a half trillion pounds - about average for an American of my height. Saw the Statue of Liberty and it was almost struck by lightening. Woooo.

Believing it to be some kind of owl sanctuary, we headed down to a place called Hooters. Imagine my abhorrence when inside all we found were scantily clad girls with big jugs....... of beer. I was extremely disappointed that we didn't get to see a single owl all night, but there were some fine examples of the lessor-spotted american great tit.

Boobies!

Watched a fat black woman throw up pizza on the subway on the way home. All in all a very successful night.

Visited Empire State Building, Trump Towers (that'll be the whoopee cushion again) and took a moonlit trip up to the top of Rockefeller Centre to see New York by night. Dazzling.

As Cara headed for home we went off to one of the most famous sports arenas in the World. The soon-to-be-demolished Yankee Stadium. Despite baseball being essentially grown men playing a girls sport it was a great experience. I particularly enjoyed lots of Asians wearing the shirt of their pitching hero 'Wang' and 60,000 Americans doing the YMCA during the break. Yankees beat Detroit Tigers 9-3.

I got 99 problems, but a pitch ain't one

So for the last year we both knew this day would come. After a year of holding each others hands, Rich was to head back to the motherland. For his final night we went to a Jazz hotspot called the Lenox Lounge and sat and drank Budweiser til the cows came home (we had to leave then as we were in their seats). So long Rich and thanks for all the fish.

Deserted in New York, I needed to find a new friend. Despite living dangerously close to Milton Keynes I decreed that Charmaine could have the honor of accompanying me to see a show on Broadway. An hour queuing in the rain got us great seats in row 7 to watch Chicago.

And all....that....Jazz!!!

As you can see, I even made an effort with a shirt. Afterwards we sat and drank cocktails in the post-theatre bar. Not quite as sophisticated as Hooters, but was very pleasant none-the-less.

So with Richie back home, the New York drizzle trickling down my window and only MK scum for company I decided it was time to move on for one last adventure.

I hear Bermuda is nice this time of year.....

Chapter 21: Peru-sing the Incas

We arrived in Peru at Cusco - the starting point for all tourists doing the Inca Trail and as such the town was nicely set up for the westerner. Even had an English pub called the Cross Keys and Paddy O'Flahertys which I believe was an Irish bar. So we set off on our Inca Adventure - 4 days hiking and 3 nights camping on the way to Machu Picchu. In our team we had 3 other Brits and 5 Americans who turned up late on the first day of hiking. This was fine as it meant we could spend the whole day taking the piss out of them and theorizing what they might be like. When we met them that night they didn't disappoint. During dinner one of the girls, Casey, commented "Hey! This tastes just like apple pie, but without the pie!" I looked up - she was eating an apple. But to be fair to the Yanks they were all good value for money. Along with 2 English speaking guides were 17 (very hard working) porters to help carry all the equipment we needed. They were all wearing matching tops that were very similar to 1980's Liverpool football shirts, which is why I like this photo so much because it looks like some dickhead in a Wimbledon shirt jumped in the wrong squad photo.

Who's the wanker in the blue? Who's the wanker...in...the...blue?

Along the way, Guide Freddy would explain all about the Inca civilization and also the plants and wildlife around us. There was all manor of stuff to eat, chew, rub and sniff to make you tired, numb, buzzing or desperate to sneeze. There was some crazy stuff in them there hills! The path was very quiet and we rarely saw other people except every now and then we bumped into a very overweight Irish girl struggling along the trail and moaning to her friend, "Oh Rosie! Why couldn't dem Incas build dere stairs prap-arly?"

The food prepared by the team chef was absolutely amazing. By far the best food we have had in South America and he did it all with a tiny little stove and a couple of pans. Day 3 of the hike was Richies birthday and he even managed to somehow bake a birthday cake and ice it too!

25 and still above ground

On the final morning of the hike we were up at 4am for a 2 hour walk to Machu Picchu. Once a University for the great minds of the Inca people and also used as a safe haven for the Inca virgins when the Spanish invaded. Sending virgins to the University??? I think it was the same guy who sent 400 chocolate buns to a weight watchers class, 50 crates of beer to George Best's house and 190,000 U.S. machine guns to Iraq. Seeing Machu Picchu appear from behind the morning clouds and the sun shining through was an unforgettable moment, made even sweeter by the fact that we had damn well earned it too.

Machu Picchu and you and you and da-da-da

Ever since I was a little boy after reading Mysteries of the Universe with my crazy old Auntie Reenie it has long been a dream of mine to fly over the Nazca Lines and this trip made that dream come true. Giant geometric shapes and animal drawings in the Peruvian desert visible only from the sky. No-one knows for sure why they were made. Theories include religious walkways, visions from a Shaman, maps of the Earth and stars and even Alien runways. I like to believe the latter is correct and I think Auntie Reenie would agree. The Worlds foremost expert on the lines is a woman called Maria Reiche though I found it hard to take her seriously. Not because she was a woman, not because she was 268 years old, not even because she was German, but because she looked just like Bricktop from Snatch.

Incy Wincy Spider....

Sandboarding in Huacachina was great fun. It's a little town next to a lagoon in the middle of these crazy big sand dunes and there is sod all to do except lie in the sun, drink and go sandboaring. We were on top of one big dune with an Israeli and an old French dude. No-one was saying anything.... so I just farted. The French guy cheered "Salut!" as he rode off into the sun. It was a magical connection.

You totally missed the sea dude!

We have met some interesting people over the last year and done some strange things, yet I still never expected to find myself being taken to a salsa dance club with a Peruvian midwife. Oh how the world continues to surprise me. After a few basic steps, Rosa dragged me kicking and screaming onto the dance floor. As soon as we started the music stopped and the spotlights came on right where we were standing. I had no idea what to do so just stood there staring blankly like a retard with a rubix cube. After what felt like a year the lights dimmed and music kicked up again and in her defence it was fantastic fun. So much so we even went back the next night. Think I even heard one local say "Hey! That cracker can move!!" In return for 6 hours salsa lessons I showed Rosa how to make her sister's beer froth up everywhere by slamming her bottle on top of it. Fair deal I think?

On the final day before heading to the airport town of Lima I went on a wine and pisco tour with Rosa and her sister Carla. This is only blog-worthy because Carla tried explaining what was happening in English but couldn't pronounce the word 'Juice' and each time said 'Jews'.

"For 2 months each year we keep the Jews in these big containers....."

No-one knew why I was giggling and I couldn't be bothered to explain.

Carla (black top), the cracker, and Rosa (white top)

Damn these 3 months in South America have gone fast. Rich and I are now next to fluent in Spanish (sort of) although on the last day in Peru Carla pointed out to me that for the last 3 months I have not been asking people if I can borrow their pen.....but asking if I can borrow their penis. Oh well. Maybe that's why we got cheap internet everywhere??

We draw ever closer to home. Like the sands dripping through an hour glass, so are the days of our lives. But for now we fly from South to North America to a little city on the east coast, and hey, if I can make it there....I'll make it ....... anywhere!!

Chapter 20: This is all Salt? I don't Bolivia!

Since leaving Old Blighty all those moons ago, we, and our fellow travellers, have taken much joy in laughing at things that have been poorly translated into English. Sometimes things are indecipherable but often it is just the smallest spelling mistake that changes the whole meaning of the sentence - these are always the funniest. At Sao Paulo airport Rich spotted the jewel in the crown. An Aids and HIV information leaflet offered the following advice:

After intercourse, wash your genitals with water and soup.

Is Cream of Chicken OK? Should I blow on it first? Can I add croutons?

We arrived in La Paz, Bolivia. At 3600 meters above sea level it's the highest capital city in the world and you can damn well feel it too. The air is so thin you can't bend over and tie your shoe without coming up gasping like an asthmatic Grand National winner. We headed south to Salar de Uyuni. Definitely one of the strangest places on the planet. 12,000 sq kilometers of pure salt. To put into perspective, the same size as Belgium. We drove round in a 4x4 with 4 lovely Austrians and 2 Bolivian guides. On the first night of the trip we stayed in the Salt Hotel. As it's name suggests it is made entirely of salt - tables, chairs, beds, even the building itself. Admittedly this seems odd, but when you are surrounded by tonnes of the stuff and the nearest brick is 5000 kilometers away, what would you build your hotel out of? The awesome power of human adaption. Of course dinner time brings the opportunity for the joke that everyone has been sitting on all day:

How is your meal sir?
Very nice, but........ do you have any salt?

By candlelight we ate llama steaks and played Texas Hold'em. We didn't have any poker chips so instead we used....oh.....what was it again?.....oh yeah, now I remember.........salt.

He's got the whole world in his hands....

The rest of the trip was spent visiting volcanoes, lagoons, geysers and a very welcome natural hot spa. 5 degrees outside, 38 degrees in. Lovely. The Bolivian desert is one crazy mother. I had one of my favourite cultural exchanges of the whole trip with our guide, Luis. Sat round a fire, sharing a bottle of red wine, he taught me the Spanish for farmyard animals and I taught him the lyrics to the Transformers theme music. Everyone's a winner. That night was soooo goddamn cold, about 12 degrees below freezing. Got up at 6 in the morning. Wanna brush your teeth? You can't. Pipes all iced over. Wanna have a dump? You can't. Water inside the toilet a solid block and I don't think Broadway is quite ready for Turds on Ice. Returned to La Paz.

And for Desert?

I went to watch the modestly titled 'The Strongest' football team in La Paz, though I think Motty may have a thing or two to say about that. Liquid football it was not. The team's kit made them look just like Trowbridge Town whereas the team's ability made them look just like Trowbridge Town. They were playing 'Aurora' who I'm fairly sure is the Princess from Sleeping Beauty. However, for one reason, this game will remain forever etched in my memory. Geographically speaking, the Hernando Siles Stadium is the highest on the planet and I sat on the very back row, making it impossible to watch a game of football closer to the heavens and stars anywhere else in the World.

We are Trowbridge, Super Trowbridge.....

Now here's one for the mums. After not riding mountain bikes for 10 years, we decided to ride the track from La Paz to Coroico, otherwise known as The Worlds Most Dangerous Road. Since tourists were allowed to bike this road 9 years ago, 11 people have plummeted to their death, including one just 4 months ago. This of course is on top of the countless vehicle accidents that happen on a weekly basis (estimated 200-300 deaths per year). The side of the road is riddled with cross-shaped 'safety barriers'. As the road gets as narrow as 3 meters with drops over the edge of over 1000 feet the rule of the road is not 'right of way' but 'right of weight' - if it's bigger than you then get the fuck out the way. Just to make things easier for us we awoke in the morning to find La Paz under 2 inches of snow - the first time they have had snow there in 21 years. I'm sure you will be pleased to hear that after 5 hours we completed the 44km track and survived to tell the tale. We have sampled one or two different beers on this adventure, though I don't think any of them tasted so sweet as the one that greeted us at the bottom of...... The Worlds Most Dangerous Road....

Good ride, no-one died

Our final activity of interest in Bolivia was a visit to one of the worlds most famous and certainly amusingly named bodies of water - Lake Titicaca (he he he). Despite having swan pedalos available we took a small boat out to the Isla Del Sol which was the birthplace of the Inca empire. Spent the day hiking around the island and admiring the pretty scenery before 2 Hawaiian pizzas and a few beers sent us to bed, satisfied that another landmark had been conquered on this most excellent of adventures.

Tit

As we pass through each country here in South America we know we are one step closer to the end of the trip. However, we are comforted by the knowledge that we are also one step closer to a place where water pipes and sewage pipes are not one and the same thing and a bin next to the toilet is for toe nail clippings and nothing more.

Chapter 19: Her Name is Rio...

Moving into Brazil we got stopped at the Police checkpoint. Out of a bus full of South Americans the Brazilian cops search the bags of the only 2 Peckerwoods on the bus. Presumably trying to find some contraband to use to fine us. Fortunately my kilo of coke was still taped to my thigh from the border crossing and my Desert Eagle .50 was tucked nicely into my sock. Racism on a bus. Whoever heard of such a thing??

We arrived at Sao Paulo which is just stupidly large. We spent a couple of days aimlessly wandering around and picked up a new friend, Alex, who had just been mugged in broad daylight. Bastards took everything. Sao Paulo ain't that safe.

So we headed off to Rio de Janeiro. Just possibly the most beautiful city on Earth. We rode the cable car to the top of Sugarloaf Mountain and it's not hard to see why it's known as...

The City of God

One of the Live Earth concerts was held 15 minutes from our hostel on Copacabana Beach so we chilled on the sand, drinking and listening to the sounds of Macy Gray, Pharrell Williams and Lenny Kravitz. It was estimated one million people turned up. We met a bunch of 'volunteers' on the beach. I use the term loosely as their volunteer work consists of teaching 18 year old Brazilian girls how to play football. Hmmmm. Bet they hate Mondays.

Live Earth, Rio

We have spent a few days relaxing on the beaches and the weather has been perfect. Of course whilst on the beach you can't help but notice the girls of Rio. Fuck Me. They certainly curve in and out in all the right places and they damn well know it too!! However, since we are in Rio we have to behave ourselves all the time because someone is always watching.....

I am the Light of the World

Christo Redentor. Christ the Redeemer. One of the new 7 Wonders. Millions of people all around the World spend their entire life searching for Jesus. We found him in 25 minutes. It was easy. He was right on top of a big mountain! We just got a taxi there. Salvation is ours.

The slums of Rio known as Favelas are pretty dangerous places and you need to take a guide to go in. So we did a 'Favela' tour or as we preferred to call it 'Kiddies with Guns' tour. Some of the kids guns were taller than they were and it looked like they were breaking a sweat just holding them up. We did learn a lot about the way of life there. No-one pays for gas, water or electricity because everyone has illegal connections - like when Richie and Eddie steal Mr Rottweiler's gas. Also, the best time to buy drugs is when it rains because the Police don't like going out in the wet and as soon as it stops raining they all appear again. For this reason they are known as 'The Worms'.

Drink Up Boys

One of the most anticipated events of our trip was hang gliding over Rio and it certainly didn't disappoint. We soared gracefully with the birds. At least once a week since Rich and I were 12 years old we have had the same conversation.

"Ever been hang gliding?"
"No, you?"
"No."

"Well thats exhausted that one then."

After 13 years, the joke has finally run its course.

Just Hanging...

Over the past week I have fallen in love with Rio (the city, not Ferdinand). I have a feeling mine and her paths will cross again. A German once told me of a saying they have: In life, you always meet twice. Well, I hope with me and Rio this is true.

Last Friday the 13th we went diving with sharks. This time we are flying on Bolivian Airlines. Yeeeees. Safe.

Chapter 18: Don´t Cry for Me Argentina

Buenos dias amigos! Must have counted 40 football pitches from Santiago airport to our hostel. I think we are going to get on well with the South Americans. Santiago is strange in that the Andies Mountains are visible from the city centre, providing a most welcoming backdrop.

Not on the end of my Armies

On our second night we watched Saw 3 in the hostel and then had a discussion about what bizzare life and death situations we could place victims in. Rich's idea was to connect someones arms and legs to a set of scales, atop which sits Lisa Riley. She is surrounded by sausage rolls, jaffacakes, doritos, tubs of lard, etc. If she gains a single pound the device rips the victim's limbs from their torso. You've Been Mamed ;)

We mooched over into Argentina through the Andies and I literally mean through them. They were some big-ass tunnels. Spent a couple of days in Mendoza - Argentina´s wine country and then onto Cordoba. For the first time since China it feels like we are off the beaten track. Very few tourists and even fewer English speaking people.

We discovered this new drink 'vodka and speed'. I swear we only had 2 each. Rich doesn't remember going home. I got picked up by the police. "Honestly officer Im not that drunk. I know where Im going. Look. I have a map." That ought to get rid of them. "Senor, tiene una mapa de Mendoza." On closer inspection the policeman was right. I was trying to navigate home using a map of a different town. Still, it was a free ride home in the wagon. Tried the drink once more, it had similar effects. After seemingly getting on well with some locals (all speaking Spanish, of course) I announced to the group "I have a big, black chair." Then got up and left.

A more traditional hostel and a lot more tourists welcomed us in Buenos Aires. We were lucky enough to get tickets for the final of the Copa Libertadores, the South American version of the Champions League. The local team ´Boca Juniors´ were playing so the whole town went football crazy. Imagine Man United in the Champions League final at Old Trafford, or Barcelona at the Nou Camp or AFC Wimbledon at Kingsmeadow. From the outside 'La Bombonera' (the Chocolate Box) looked like a run down multi-storey car park. But inside was a cauldron of noise, streamers, flags, fireworks, flares and 60,000 crazy Boca fans. Was a classic night in Buenos Aires. Boca won 3-0.

La La La La La BOCA!!!

We visited the balcony where Evita made her inspirational speeches to thousands of adoring fans and we also went to her grave, where she is less vocal. Had a few crazy nights out with a couple of new friends - Nora from the US and Shelley from a little known town in Wiltshire, England called Trowbridge. While I´m sure they are both clever girls they have come out with some absolute clangers:

Which film was first, The Mummy or The Mummy Returns? I doubt the tramps will be out tonight, its probably too cold for them. And my personal favorite, Nick, don´t llamas usually have 2 heads?

I weep for the future.

The colourful township of Boca

On top of bars in Trowbridge you get straws, napkins and a list of Townies and Moroccans banned from the premises. In Buenos Aires you get supermodels in their underwear. Damn I miss the Bridge.

Oooh, Cheeky!

To chalk up another couple of countries we ventured East into Uruguay and Paraguay for a few days and the difference between the two was quite astounding. Uruguay was delightful - cobbled streets, interesting architecture and a fresh, yet relaxing pace of life. In contrast Paraguay was a shithole. Never thought I would say it but Russia has been promoted and is no longer at the bottom of the ´How Shit Is Your Country?´ table. Dirty, skanky streets. Scrotal urchins everywhere and absolutely nothing to do or see. More chance of finding a condom machine in the Vatican than another tourist in Paraguay. Only 2 things of note happened. The power in our hotel went out during the excorcism scene in Beetlejuice and even more eerily we watched Tim Henman win a game at Wimbledon.

Got the hell out of Paraguay damn quick and back into Argentina to visit the Iguazu National park and one of the worlds most incredible waterfalls. No photo could do it justice so you get one with 2 handsome men in the foreground. When Eleanor Roosevelt first saw the falls she said....

.....Poor Niagra

So South America is well underway. The Spanish is improving daily, the Copa America is on, the steaks are juicy and the beer is cold. Hasta Luego!!!