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!!