Hola!
Here comes the second blog in one day - wow! If you have not already read the Copacabana blog, do so immediately by scrolling down. As I explained previously, we are in Cusco at the moment, where we have been loving life for a week, exploring the cobbled Inca streets and alleyways and the many beautiful squares.
A bit of history: The city was once the capital city of the Inca Empire, which was at its height when the Spaniards arrived (1520s) and which ruled over Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador and parts of Colombia, Chile and Argentina. Big. 
When the Spaniards arrived, they reported that Cusco was as impressive as any major European city at the time, and then they promptly levelled most of the city to make way for their cathedrals. However, there is still much Inca stonework to be seen around the city, since the Spaniards kept many walls and foundations, because the Incas were so good at putting massive blocks of stone together at the perfect angle so as to be completely resistant to earthquakes. The Spanish were amazed at their advanced civilisation, and then promptly murdered most of them because they were not Christians (¨No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!¨), and the ones who escaped to the hidden cities in the jungle (of which Machu Piccu is the most famous) died of introduced diseases like smallpox. Nice. However, despite its rough history, Cusco remains a staggeringly beautiful place, and one of the best cities we`ve encountered on the continent.
When the Spaniards arrived, they reported that Cusco was as impressive as any major European city at the time, and then they promptly levelled most of the city to make way for their cathedrals. However, there is still much Inca stonework to be seen around the city, since the Spaniards kept many walls and foundations, because the Incas were so good at putting massive blocks of stone together at the perfect angle so as to be completely resistant to earthquakes. The Spanish were amazed at their advanced civilisation, and then promptly murdered most of them because they were not Christians (¨No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!¨), and the ones who escaped to the hidden cities in the jungle (of which Machu Piccu is the most famous) died of introduced diseases like smallpox. Nice. However, despite its rough history, Cusco remains a staggeringly beautiful place, and one of the best cities we`ve encountered on the continent. So, lets get down to business. Our bus from Copacabana took 5 HOURS longer than it should have. Bugger! Our hostel had told us they would hold a room for us until we arrived at 10pm, so when we finally arrived in Cusco at 2:30am, we were extremely worried that there would be no room at the inn, so to speak. We had discovered that Loki Backpackers was an extremely popular hostel, with weeklong waiting lists, but since we had planned to meet Adam and Alex there, who had just finished their Lares Valley trek, we had no choice but to hope they had saved our room. From the taxi on the way to Loki, we got our first glimpses of the spectacular Cusco, and were immediatly happy to be there. Luckily, when we arrived at the hostel, we discovered there was a room for us after all, so after checking in, we went straight to sleep, without being able to make contact with our
long lost rosbif travelling partners, who were asleep somewhere in the building. We soon discovered why Loki was so popular: it was started by s few backpackers who ressurected a 450 year old building from near destruction and turned it into a well run hostel with constant hot showers and large comfy beds, a welcome relief from Bolivian hostels, which have neither. The building itself was some sort of fort or castle, with walls over one metre thick and massive grassy courtyards with hammocks strung up.
long lost rosbif travelling partners, who were asleep somewhere in the building. We soon discovered why Loki was so popular: it was started by s few backpackers who ressurected a 450 year old building from near destruction and turned it into a well run hostel with constant hot showers and large comfy beds, a welcome relief from Bolivian hostels, which have neither. The building itself was some sort of fort or castle, with walls over one metre thick and massive grassy courtyards with hammocks strung up.The next morning we were woken up by the sound of someone from Birmingham and someone from Portsmouth having a conversation. Using our keen powers of deduction, we concluded that it was probably Adam and Alex, and rushed outside to reunite our tried and tested 5 piece travelling
team. Adam and Al then showed us to the town square, the awesome Plaza de Armas (once the sight of the Inka king´s palace, now the sight of large cathedrals), and we had breakfast at a cafe overlooking the square. We spent the rest of the day looking around the towns other squares and cobbled streets, before heading to an English pub for a pint and a game of pool (the Saffers won 2-0, amid much stance-criticism). That evening it was time for Alex`s birthday celebration, since he was turning 23 the next day, so we happily enjoyed Loki`s cheap happy hour, before heading out for a night on the town. We first went to The Roots, a live music venue on the square, where we saw a great band and spoke to some incredibly ignorant Americans. Adam, when told by a girl that she came from the ¨United States¨, replied, ¨The United States of what?¨. Thus began an hour long conversation in which Adam convinced the girl that he had no idea where her country was. When she drew a map, he called her a liar and told her that Canada was in fact next to Mexico, and there was nothing in between, and what she meant was the United States between Belgium and France. Nadia overheard this and joined in, and when asked if she knew where the US was, she said of course she did - between Belgium and France. I then piped up and asked if she was sure she didn´t come from the United States of Luxemburg, with Fonz asking who their Prime Minister was. An entertaining hour. Meanwhile, Alex, who seems to really come out of his shell when drunk, was pushing himself on every female in the room, with varying degrees of success. A while later we moved on to Mama Africa, another club, and spent the rest of the night there making sure Alex did not break any laws (at least, any major laws) while harrassing the clientel. I had bought Alex a woolen mask, which he used to disguise his identity, and Nadia had aquired a pair of strange knickers in a laundromat mixup, which Alex ended up wearing over his jeans. We got home late, and woke up late. Alex woke up wearing women´s underwear, and had no idea why.
team. Adam and Al then showed us to the town square, the awesome Plaza de Armas (once the sight of the Inka king´s palace, now the sight of large cathedrals), and we had breakfast at a cafe overlooking the square. We spent the rest of the day looking around the towns other squares and cobbled streets, before heading to an English pub for a pint and a game of pool (the Saffers won 2-0, amid much stance-criticism). That evening it was time for Alex`s birthday celebration, since he was turning 23 the next day, so we happily enjoyed Loki`s cheap happy hour, before heading out for a night on the town. We first went to The Roots, a live music venue on the square, where we saw a great band and spoke to some incredibly ignorant Americans. Adam, when told by a girl that she came from the ¨United States¨, replied, ¨The United States of what?¨. Thus began an hour long conversation in which Adam convinced the girl that he had no idea where her country was. When she drew a map, he called her a liar and told her that Canada was in fact next to Mexico, and there was nothing in between, and what she meant was the United States between Belgium and France. Nadia overheard this and joined in, and when asked if she knew where the US was, she said of course she did - between Belgium and France. I then piped up and asked if she was sure she didn´t come from the United States of Luxemburg, with Fonz asking who their Prime Minister was. An entertaining hour. Meanwhile, Alex, who seems to really come out of his shell when drunk, was pushing himself on every female in the room, with varying degrees of success. A while later we moved on to Mama Africa, another club, and spent the rest of the night there making sure Alex did not break any laws (at least, any major laws) while harrassing the clientel. I had bought Alex a woolen mask, which he used to disguise his identity, and Nadia had aquired a pair of strange knickers in a laundromat mixup, which Alex ended up wearing over his jeans. We got home late, and woke up late. Alex woke up wearing women´s underwear, and had no idea why.
The next day was spent being hungover. This does not sound like a lot, but dealing with a hangover the entire day can be tiresome work which requires every bit of your concentration. Luckily, Loki had the perfect place for hungover backpackers, a sunny courtyard with hammocks, where we spent most of the day, regretting decisions and laughing at Alex. The next day was to be the first day of our 5 day Salkantay Trek to Machupicchu. We got up before sunrise and met with our group at the square. We had chosen an alternative to the Classic Inca Trail, since, for one, the Inca Trail is booked up for the rest of the year, and secondly, we had no desire to do a trail with 500 other people. Thus we chose the Salkantay trek, since we had heard it was spectacular, tough, and one day longer than the Inca Trail. Our guides took us by bus to the town of Mollepata, where we had breakfast and met our fellow trekkers. In our group was a Swedish Dentist (Lena), an American woman from Boston named Badsheva (pronounced Butt-Shaver), a friendly Canadian girl (Hannah), and a Brazillian who spoke no english and turned out to be the laziest person in the whole world. She also had Cat Phobia, an affliction I´ve never heard of.
After breakfast we were loaded into a flatbed truck, like cattle, and taken to the start of the trek. We walked about 5km along flat paths, to our lunch spot, where a fantastic meal was waiting for us. SAS tours proved to be a formiddle tour group, since the food they gave us was consistently brilliant.
After lunch we continued walking - we were heading closer and closer to a bright white glacier mountain called Umantay. Next to Umantay emerged the gigantic glacier-filled Salkantay Mountain, a 6500m beast worshipped by the Incas as an Apu (a god). The mountain is still considered absolutely sacred by the local people, who often make the trek to the base to make offerings to the mountain and to Pachamama (mother of nature, married to the sun). No one has ever managed to get to the top of Salkantay, mainly because it is sacred, but also because there are often avalanches on the mountain (a group of Argie climbers found this out the hard way in ´87 and their bodies 
have not yet been found). As we walked and walked, Salkantay began to get closer and closer, and much much bigger. When we finally reached camp, we were close to the base of the mountain, which loomed over us, like a God-Mountain does. At that point it began to get seriously cold, and we shiverred through our dinner before being given fruit tea with rum in it to warm us up and put us to bed. That night the temperature dropped to around -10, which you feel when you are sleeping in a thin tent at the base of a windy icy mountain. It was cold.
After lunch we continued walking - we were heading closer and closer to a bright white glacier mountain called Umantay. Next to Umantay emerged the gigantic glacier-filled Salkantay Mountain, a 6500m beast worshipped by the Incas as an Apu (a god). The mountain is still considered absolutely sacred by the local people, who often make the trek to the base to make offerings to the mountain and to Pachamama (mother of nature, married to the sun). No one has ever managed to get to the top of Salkantay, mainly because it is sacred, but also because there are often avalanches on the mountain (a group of Argie climbers found this out the hard way in ´87 and their bodies 
have not yet been found). As we walked and walked, Salkantay began to get closer and closer, and much much bigger. When we finally reached camp, we were close to the base of the mountain, which loomed over us, like a God-Mountain does. At that point it began to get seriously cold, and we shiverred through our dinner before being given fruit tea with rum in it to warm us up and put us to bed. That night the temperature dropped to around -10, which you feel when you are sleeping in a thin tent at the base of a windy icy mountain. It was cold. After a long, cold night, we were woken at 6am with a cup of Coca Tea, for the altitude, and then given a hearty breakfast to warm us up. 
That day was to be the hardest trekking, since we had to climb the Salkantay pass, at 4800m, and then decend into the high jungle to our campsight at 2800m - a total of 23km of hard hiking. Getting to the top of the pass took us all morning, since it is not easy to climb steeply at over 4000m. When we finally reached the pass, we were right up against Salkantay mountain, and felt as if we were high up in the Himalayas. After making some offerings to Pachamama (the offering was to assemble a pile of rocks and pour some flower alcohol water over it), we began our descent into the high jungle. The levels of jungle begin with the lowest, rainforest, then cloudforest, and then the high jungle. We began to hike down, hugging a mountain, with a steep jungly valley on our right. 
That day was to be the hardest trekking, since we had to climb the Salkantay pass, at 4800m, and then decend into the high jungle to our campsight at 2800m - a total of 23km of hard hiking. Getting to the top of the pass took us all morning, since it is not easy to climb steeply at over 4000m. When we finally reached the pass, we were right up against Salkantay mountain, and felt as if we were high up in the Himalayas. After making some offerings to Pachamama (the offering was to assemble a pile of rocks and pour some flower alcohol water over it), we began our descent into the high jungle. The levels of jungle begin with the lowest, rainforest, then cloudforest, and then the high jungle. We began to hike down, hugging a mountain, with a steep jungly valley on our right. 
After what was an insanely long day of walking, we reached our camp,
at a relieving 2800m, where we chilled out and spoke to some local kids whose first language was Quechua rather than Spanish. Quechua was the official language of the Inca Empire, and while very few of the locals still have pure Inca Blood (apparently deep in the jungle there are still some Inca communities), the language of Quechua has survived, although in unwritten form. Google Peru offers Google in Quechua, and to say, ¨You have beautiful thighs¨, you say ¨Im´ai S´uma Cha´kai kai¨. Useful stuff. 
The next day involved a lot of walking through cloud forest, low down next to the river, about 17km to the town of La Playa. The walk was long and filled with Mosquitos and our old friends, the Sandflies. By the time we arrived in La Playa, we were covered in all kinds of bites, and were happy to spend the early evening chilling out in our tents.The next day we began climbing the mountain of JagtaPata (I have no idea how it is spelt), from the top of which, parts of Machu Picchu can be seen from a distance. Fonz was not feeling so well that day, and had a cough, so thought it wise to take the bus to the end destination of the day´s walking. Mariana, the lazy Brazillian who had requested a helicopter the day before, had also chosen to take the bus, which meant that Fonz had his ear chewed off in Mariana´s own special mixture of the languages of Portugese and Spanish, all day long. Our experience was equally harrowing,
but on the body rather than the mind. The 3 hour hike up the mountain was incredibly steep and hard, and our guide allowed us few breaks. However, at the top, in the distance, we caught our first sight of the lost city of MachuPicchu, although it was far in the distance. Hidden by mountains on all sides, the mountain of Machu Picchu cannot be spotted from very far away, and in between it and a smaller mountain, Wayna Picchu, lies the city of MachuPicchu, which, from where we stood, looked like a tiny bunch of rocks. The trek down from the mountain was far harder than the way up, as it was steep, and tough on the knees. Nadia´s knee had already taken some strain and so her descent was particularly painful. After reaching the bottom, we hiked to the famous HydroElectrico power station, and from there we took the train to Agaus Callientes, the
but on the body rather than the mind. The 3 hour hike up the mountain was incredibly steep and hard, and our guide allowed us few breaks. However, at the top, in the distance, we caught our first sight of the lost city of MachuPicchu, although it was far in the distance. Hidden by mountains on all sides, the mountain of Machu Picchu cannot be spotted from very far away, and in between it and a smaller mountain, Wayna Picchu, lies the city of MachuPicchu, which, from where we stood, looked like a tiny bunch of rocks. The trek down from the mountain was far harder than the way up, as it was steep, and tough on the knees. Nadia´s knee had already taken some strain and so her descent was particularly painful. After reaching the bottom, we hiked to the famous HydroElectrico power station, and from there we took the train to Agaus Callientes, theAguas Callientes is a town full to the brim with tourists,
who are all there for one reason alone. However, it did allow us to have a hot shower and to get a good night´s sleep in a bed. Before going to bed, I discovered that the combination of the excessive walking in Non-Hiking Shoes, combined with the many insect bites, had turned ankles into the ankles of an 85 year old woman.
who are all there for one reason alone. However, it did allow us to have a hot shower and to get a good night´s sleep in a bed. Before going to bed, I discovered that the combination of the excessive walking in Non-Hiking Shoes, combined with the many insect bites, had turned ankles into the ankles of an 85 year old woman. The next morning we woke up at about 4:30, so as to catch
one of the first busses up to Machu. We managed to get the 5th bus up, and were waiting in line before the place opened at 6am. Our early rise had paid off, since we were some of the first to get in and see the city of Machu Picchu, and thus were lucky enough to see the place at sunrise, before most of the tourists arrived. We were also lucky to have a perfect day, since most of the time the city is covered in fog until 10am - our view of the place was postcard like.
one of the first busses up to Machu. We managed to get the 5th bus up, and were waiting in line before the place opened at 6am. Our early rise had paid off, since we were some of the first to get in and see the city of Machu Picchu, and thus were lucky enough to see the place at sunrise, before most of the tourists arrived. We were also lucky to have a perfect day, since most of the time the city is covered in fog until 10am - our view of the place was postcard like.We were blown away by how much of a city it actually is. In many pictures it just looks like a pile of rocks, but those rocks are actually a finely crafted city with a quarry, residential and industrial sectors, a working irrigation system, water fountains, a grassy plaza, a square of temples, the King´s house, the houses of the priests, massive agricultural terraces, and winding streets and staircases, all crafted out of the stones found on the same hilltop.
Before I continue, I should mention that the pronunciation of the city is quite important. It should be pronounced Ma-chew Pick-chew, which means, Old Mountain, since saying Ma-chew Pi-chew translates as Old Penis. Also, some more history is required at this point. The city was built by the Incas between 1400 and 1500, but no one is sure for what purpose it was built. Since it contains a residential area and a palace for the king, some think it was a Royal retreat in the mountains. Since it has instruments for measuring the sun´s paths and for observing the sky, some say it was a university, while others say it was merely a sacred place for priests and certain chosen people to live. Left unfinished, its inhabitants inexplicably, and suddenly, abandoned the city, and it remained a hidden place until an American archaeologist, Hiram Bingham, stumbled onto the site while looking for Vilcabamba, in 1911. The Spanish thus never found Machu Picchu, since the people who knew about it kept it a secret, until someone slipped up in 1911 and it was rediscovered. Cool story Hansel.
After a guided tour of the city, where we visited the temples, including the 
Sun Temple, which has two windows through which the first rays of sunlight shine on the summer and the winter soltice, the Sun Dial, which is equally well designed, and the many other temples in the city. The temples were built differently to the houses, using only rocks which were carefully angled and sized differently to fit perfectly into each other. One such rock has 32 angles on it. This way of construction has allowed the temples to survive earthquakes. After our guided tour around the entire city, we were given hours to explore it on our own. It is a place which is hard to fathom when you are there, and even harder to describe in a blog. The pictures won´t really capture the feeling of being there and walking around the city with a dumbstruck look on your face, so I suggest you all cease working immediately and come and see the place. Sadly, due to the amount of tourists seeing it everyday (3000!) the place is sinking, at an increasing rate.
Sun Temple, which has two windows through which the first rays of sunlight shine on the summer and the winter soltice, the Sun Dial, which is equally well designed, and the many other temples in the city. The temples were built differently to the houses, using only rocks which were carefully angled and sized differently to fit perfectly into each other. One such rock has 32 angles on it. This way of construction has allowed the temples to survive earthquakes. After our guided tour around the entire city, we were given hours to explore it on our own. It is a place which is hard to fathom when you are there, and even harder to describe in a blog. The pictures won´t really capture the feeling of being there and walking around the city with a dumbstruck look on your face, so I suggest you all cease working immediately and come and see the place. Sadly, due to the amount of tourists seeing it everyday (3000!) the place is sinking, at an increasing rate. 
By lunchtime, the tourists had arrived, and the place became a bit of a nightmare, so we decided to head back down to Aguas to have lunch, before taking the train back to Cusco. For some reason, we had been bumped up to the first class carriage of the train, where we were served a snack, and treated to some entertainment. The entertainment consisted of a small man who put on a mask and danced around, purring like a cat. Then we were treated to a fashion show of Alphaca clothing, with the models being the cabin attendants. It was rather funny. That night we were exhausted and got an early night back at Loki Hostel.
The next day was Fonzie´s birthday. He shares his birthday with Madiba, but even this monunmental occaision was overshadowed in the town of Cusco by the birthday of the FonzMeister. Nads and I took him to lunch at the Inka Grill, where he ordered the Roasted Cuy. 
Cuy is a Guinea Pig, a Peruvian delicacy. It came quartered into its four leg bits, with an extra bit containing the kidneys. I tried some of Fonz´s meal, and it was delicous. It tasted like sweet duck. Anyone who has one as a pet should immediately take my advice: fatten it up, hunt it down, slaughter the beast and whack it in the oven or on the braai with some rosmary and olive oil. mmmm. I ate an Alphaca steak, which was also amazingly good. The Incas ate damn well. That afternoon we chilled around, before heading out that night to do some celebrating. Believe it or not, we went to a South African themed bar called Mandela´s. The barmen would not belief that Fonz 1. was South African and 2. shared his birthday with Madiba, and thus demanded to see his passport. He did not have it with him, and so they declined his request for free Springboks. Once we got over the fact that we were in Mandela´s bar, it became a boring empty place, and so we decided to head to Mama Africa, a club that is always full. The night was spent dancing like silly people, and being befriended by some people from Lima, who bought us drinks and confided in us their secrets. Eventually, after a long long fun night, we made it home in the wee hours.
Cuy is a Guinea Pig, a Peruvian delicacy. It came quartered into its four leg bits, with an extra bit containing the kidneys. I tried some of Fonz´s meal, and it was delicous. It tasted like sweet duck. Anyone who has one as a pet should immediately take my advice: fatten it up, hunt it down, slaughter the beast and whack it in the oven or on the braai with some rosmary and olive oil. mmmm. I ate an Alphaca steak, which was also amazingly good. The Incas ate damn well. That afternoon we chilled around, before heading out that night to do some celebrating. Believe it or not, we went to a South African themed bar called Mandela´s. The barmen would not belief that Fonz 1. was South African and 2. shared his birthday with Madiba, and thus demanded to see his passport. He did not have it with him, and so they declined his request for free Springboks. Once we got over the fact that we were in Mandela´s bar, it became a boring empty place, and so we decided to head to Mama Africa, a club that is always full. The night was spent dancing like silly people, and being befriended by some people from Lima, who bought us drinks and confided in us their secrets. Eventually, after a long long fun night, we made it home in the wee hours. The next day was another hangover day, with only one interesting addition. Esteban, your dear writer, got a rather large tattoo on his left leg. However, you will have to wait until I get back to find out about it, although there is a picture up on Picasa.
After a painful 4 hours of tattooing, and a painful night´s sleep, we woke up to Fonz´s last day with us, which we spent exploring Cusco´s markets and squares, and then having a final dinner (of mediocre burritos) with Fonz. We then parted ways, after 4 months of travelling together, our journey was to take seperate paths. Bye Fonzie!
From here on out, its me an Na, travelling to Lima tomorrow before we head up the coast to Ecuador, Colombia, and finally Cuba.
Until next time,
Check out all the pics at:
Baaaabaaaaa!
9 comments:
I shan't pretend that I am not thrilled to be welcoming my brother home soon (even if his chops look totally utterly ridiculous!) Yay yay!
Esteban, I LOVE your Inca tattoo, well done- it is very beautiful. Though I wouldn't show it off much, if I had your old lady cankles... with those nasty bite marks...
Sounds like the last few days of travel have been glorious, and I wish i was there. Here in SA, it is cold and rather dreary (except on weekends, when one can stay in bed, and NOT go to work).
News to report from the home of the Becatti's: Pancho the puppy has hit the 5kg mark, and is growing steadily. He clearly has a penchant for dirty socks and undies (drags them up and down the passage), and pots (he sees no need for living plants and flowers, the empty chewed up pots are much better, especially if left strewn in the garden).
Milla has taken to humping Belli on a regular basis, and I am concerned.
Emo Dad continues to be suitably Emo, working very hard with his designs and work. And Mom is counting down the days until Fausto's return.
As for me, I have taken on more work at work, as I am now in charge of our conferences and events too, and am trying to find a suitable stage name (I am a trainee pro belly dancer, after all!). And yes, my deadlines roll ever closer, so I am typing frenetically, and trying to ignore the doom.
And yes, another of my dilly friends has got engaged, so there is much wedding planning going on. Ole.
Travel safe Nads and Esteban. We hope to see you return home soon, so we can reunite you with Cheesy Chops. Besos! And good luck.
Fausto, behave, send besos to the primos. And see you in 10 days!
Listen up!
If you peeps do not want another blogstrike on your hands, you´d better get commenting. We spent 5 hours on these buggers an we´ve only got two comments to show for it.
Bah humbug I say! Bah!
Don't strike! Please!
You know how much we appreciate your blogging! And your lovely old lady cankles. And your tatoo. And the photos! And believe me, as I read long posts like these I am very aware of how long it must have taken to write.
That double posting was truly momentous. In fact so much so that I don't think people know what to say in the comments, apart from the banal ("Wow!", "Awesome!", etc). In fact I've been told by several people that they're so intimidated by your command of the written English language that they feel too embarrassed to post comments. So you're your own worst enemy it seems. Having said that, I can't think of any reason for the Limericks to have dried up!
But seriously - Machupicchu, the trail, it all looks incredible. You're all very lucky. Thank you for writing!
While on the trail to Machu Picchu,
Many critters succesfully bit you.
Stephen's cankles were a mess,
He'd better suit an old lady's dress.
Here's a limerick! Now let the blog continue...
Good limerick there, son.
Steve - I finally got around to listening to k-os. Good tip! Great album.
Hey guys, I found this blog incredibly moving for some reason. And what is more, for the first time in my long life, I now want to see South America, or rather Cusco and Macchu Piccu and thanks for explaining pronunciation. Funny, Jenny Cryws Williams was asking people last week to phone in to 702 if they had been to this place and I was dying to call and say that you had done it only yesterday! An older woman said they had done the shorter hike but she couldn't take the altitude so had to go back.
All in all, thanks for a wonderful blog.
Mutti
Hello Gringos!
I would like to point out that, as the blog entertainment service provider, perhaps you should examine the quality and frequency of your blogs before you accuse us of stubborn silence.
You see, we simply cannot get enough of your fabulous tales. And yes, we have been spoilt by the variety of adventures, photos and wild events that you regale us with, which may explain why we are running out of original exclamations with which to reply/comment.
Now, if you made your blog posts more interactive, perhaps we would be more inclined to write more original comments.
I also feel that some video content would do well to revitalise the commentary, and take this humble (yet treasured) blog to the next level.
Furthermore, the reason it takes you 5 hours to write a single blog is that you choose to blog only once every 14 days; whereas, if you blogged once a week, you would have less reporting-back to do... and we could use our un-original comments and limericks more often too. (or at least, this is the line I am using to motivate you to write more, more, more!).
Fonz is home today, and I cannot wait to get out of the office, so I can see him! Hope you two Gringos are well? Hope the travels progress without bad incident...
Besos!!
Where does one start. I should not have read further down the comments before attempting to add my own, insignificant contribution, as I am now steeped in guilt for not commenting more frequently. Although I am tempted to yell SOME OF US WORK, I won't, as that would just be lame. See, my problem is that the blogs are so long (I'm not complaining!), and so full of adventure and comedy and pictures that I honestly don't know where to begin! Allow me at least to say this: I cannot find the damn tattoo! And now I'm obsessed with it! Please note, Mutti said nothing. As Anna would say: I'm a gonna tell on-a you! You in trou-bull! Will someone please inform techno-phobe here where to locate said photo? I'm with Mutti, tho, on wanting to hop on next plane out. God, it looks amazing. I've always had a thing for the Incas (and where did they go?! And is it true they raised their internal vibrations to such a level that they simply disappeared? And is this why cats purr? We'll have to ask cat-phobe. Yes, there is such a thing. Not nearly as concerning as those who have a phobia for fruit, however.)Again, I say this is a book. Thatdamncat and I also met up with a cool Alex when we were travelling Die Schweiz, but I think he was from Aus. New Zealand? Anyways, Alex's on travels are cool. And Mandela's birthday! Does Fonz know that he's going to get a public holiday in his honour?
See? No coherence whatsoever, and therein lies the problem. Must add, though, that you need to watch those cankles, or you'll end up like your sisters, and never be able to wear short skirts or ballet pumps again. Alas, Anakin Skywalker Wellman has inherited this slight. And, what else? Not much to report. Your blogs remain the single joy in my life. What will I do when you return? And return you must, as Nadia has a hen party to attend!!! Miss you guys. Miss you a lot. I was also moved by last blog, but I think it's because I could hear your voice...
Oh, sob.
Who the hell comes up with these word verifications?! I end with this: JAITGDZI!
Good commenting, good feedback, I am now satisfied.
I must clear this up - I do not expect continuously thrilling and insightful comments to flow in as soon as the blog is posted, but some sort of comment makes us happy because then at least we know you´ve read the thing, and we don´t feel like we wasted an entire day blogging. Ahhh now you see... And its not as if they take long either.
Also, we cannot blog more frequently, because then we would spent most of our time in internet cafes, and would have nothing to blog about in the first place. Anyway, all is well now - the comments were great and made us smile.
Thank you for your co-operation, you will now be rewarded with another blog!
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