It's very early to have a certain view on the trip in retrospect, I'm still bewildered from being back, but it's a trip that has changed my life, and my view upon life, but then, all great changes in your life do exactly that.
Certain people on the trip have made a bigger impact than others, of the most important I can mention: Mike Gasson, Jimmy, Dave, Sarah, Carl, Miguel, Anne Dorte, Stephen, James, Johno, Karin, Flavio, Julian, Magte, Tono, Antonio, Heather, Lisa, Moni, Bob and the star of the show... Gilbert.

I have also had a lot of help from the homefront: Hanne (mother), Jesper (father), Anne Sophie (sister), Bo (stepfather) and Anette (friend). Especially without the help of these individuals, the trip never would have been or it would have failed while I was underway.

With a disregard to all that I have just written, I would like to extend a thank you, to everyone on this list:

Family, friends and everyone who has been reading the blog!

Uruguay: Those 5 Danes

Colonia Del Sacramento: The Brit and the Aussie

Puerto Madryn: Sarah and Kyle

Rio Gallegos: Timo, Jonah and Fred

Ushuaia: Andreas, Uri, Layden and the 4 Israeli girls

Punta Arenas: Carl, Tamar, Adina, Keenan, Irish couple, Jack, Roman, Mike and the two Aussie's in their 50's.

Puerto Natales: Bill, Kat, Bo, the guy from Punta Arenas, Monty (the cat), Britney, Jenny, German girl, Vicky and Sophia

Torres Del Paine: Urs, John, John, Susan, Katy, Rafael, Natasha, Albert, Nick, Whitney and the two Irish guys.

Calafate: Edward

Chalten: Mike

Futaleufú: Eyal, Rachel, Dave and Eddie

El Bolsón: Lucia

Bariloche: Patrick, Reut, the Israeli twins and Jimmy

Bariloche -> Valdivia: Lindsay

Pucón: Everyone at hostel Etnico, everyone who went up the volcano with me (in particular Yong)

Santiago: The staff at La Chimba hostel and Mike (of El Chalten fame)

Rapa Nui (Easter Island): Miguel, Chen, Kieran, Melissa, Larry, Jimmy (From Bariloche),John, Emma, Brian, John (Montana), Alejandra

Buenos Aires: Eddie (of Futaleufú fame), Anne Dorte, Jon, Karen, Elena, Jane, Becky, Eric, Madoka, James, Steve, Stefan, Darren, Deborah, Chris

Puerto Iguazu: Two German girls, Canadian girl and the two Danish girls

Ciudad Del Este: Dan and Rommi

Santa Cruz -> La Paz: Lorgio

La Paz: Patrick (from Bariloche) and Danny

La Paz -> Cuzco: Florian

Cuzco: Steve and James (from Buenos Aires), Karin, Anna, Heather, Ley, the 3 Norwegian girls, Ingrid, Johno, Maria, Charlotte, Mike Gasson (from El Chalten and Santiago) and the Kiwi girl.

Inca Trail: Flavio, Julian, the porters and the cook, Rob and Dee Ann

La Paz: Nadja, Yasmin, Heather, Uval, Maud, Jonathan, Ivan and Macro

Potosi: Cameron, Monica, Allan, William, Anaïs, Angela and Aaron

Uyuni: Angela (from Potosi), Declan and Judy

Sucre: Andrew, Tamsyn and Trevor

La Paz: Jimmy

Pampas: Jimmuy, Laia and Tono

Jungle: Jimmy, Antonio and Jesus

La Paz: Jimmy, Heather, Roly and Anita

Copacabana: Jimmy

Habana: Lisa, Amasa and Lily

Santiago de Cuba: Lisa (from above)

Comandancia La Plata: Moni

VIlla Santa Domingo -> Camaguey: Shane and Steve

Cuba: All the family's I stayed with, ate with and talked with; you showed me the best side of Cuba.

Washington, D.C.: Hiro, Carlos, Rachel & Eyal (from Futaleufu and Bariloche), Bill Colburn, Jackie, Rick and Rav Shmuel.

New York: Tony, Anne Sophie (my sister), Peter & and his son Tony as well as

Chicago: Bob, Amanda and the people on the Wicker park tour

Boston: Amelia

I'm just gonna leave you with a feeling of my trip, I know with this massive list of people above, it doesn't feel right, and I'm not saying it gives a sense of my entire trip, but you will also notice that few people are mentioned more than once (it won't work if you are reading this in an email, you have to go to the website):

[See post to listen to audio]

So before I leave you... Beyond the sky and the earth, thank you.

I was supposed to be picked up at 5 o'clock, so I set my watch to wake me up at 4.30. However I was woken at 6 in the morning by Flavio, my guide. I had overslept, but my hostel was the last place the bus stopped, and I had prepared everything before I went to bed, so by the time I was in the bus, I had been up for 3 minutes. The bus drove for what felt like was an eternity, and when it finally stopped, it was only to change a bad tire. However we did eventually make it to Ollantaytambo where we (Donald, Andrew, Amy, Kelly, Jennifer, Kirsten, Paula, Daniel, James, Melissa, John, Julia, Aoifa, Roana and I) ate breakfast, before being taken the final distance to the 82nd kilometre, which is where the Inca Trail begins. Before leaving Ollantaytambo I bought a walking stick for 3 soles, a good purchase. But it was at the 82nd kilometre that we were for the first time really introduced to each other (most people had been sleeping on the bus), as well as to our guides Flavio and Julian, as well as seeing our porters, all 22 of them. Yes, 15 tourists, 2 guides and 22 porters; and with 500 allowed on the Inca Trail every day including guides and porters, it would work out to be 192 tourists, 26 guides and 282 porters. However I went with a company famous for treating the porters well, so we had a high number to better distribute the weight etc. We started walking, and the first day was very easy, it was only slightly uphill, but the views weren't that dramatic, neither was the first ruin we came past, but the second ruin, was much more impressive. What has really kept the ruins here in a good condition, was that the Spanish never made it here, they stopped at the 82nd kilometre, which by the way is located at an altitude of 2720 meters, and the peak on the trail is 4200 meters, the so called "Dead Woman's Pass". We eventually made it to our lunchspot, where the porters had set up a big tent for eating, with tables and chairs. And outside everyone got a bowl of water with a piece of soap and a towel, just for the sake of hygiene, so that nobody would get ill. When we sat down to eat, we had a 3 course lunch, beginning with an appetizer followed by a soup and main course, something which was replicated for every meal. After lunch we started walking again, and it wasn't long till we passed the last village on the trail. Just before we made it to our campsite for the night, a herd of llama's ran past us, in fact we had to move somewhat rapidly of the trail in order not to get trampled, but that's just part of the charm. Also, do you know why llamas are called llamas? When the Spanish first arrived, they were intrigued by the pack animal of the land, and so asked the local people "Como se llama?" which means "What is its name?". But the natives only spoke Quechua, and so just repeated the last word the Spanish said... Llama. But we made it to the campsite around 17.50, 15 minutes before it got dark. The porters had set up our tents, and out food was warm and ready; what luxury. Of everyone on the trail, only James, Melissa and I carry our own things (clothes, sleeping bag, sleeping mattress etc.), everyone else paid $45 for a personal half porter (they can carry 7 kg for you), something I found to be a waste of money, it wasn't hard at all to carry my own things, I merely brought a pair of pants, a pair of trousers, a tshirt for every day, my rain jacket, my fleece, the bathroom essentials (toothbrush, toothpaste and toiletpaper), a deck of playing cards, my iPod, my camera, a pair of shorts, my shoes, socks and of course the most important thing... Gilbert. I had eve since I arrived in South America been dragging 4 squares of Marabou chocolate around with me, and I wanted to bring it, so that I could eat some at Machu Picchu (I had the same idea for Easter Island, but forgot it), but when I was packing, I couldn't find it. I literally emptied everything from my bag, but still there was absolutely nothing to find, a giant disappointment.

Day 2, 14th of April:

Woken up at an ungodly 5 in the morning, packed my bag (I actually brought a lot, and it hardly fit, it actually took quite an effort), had a divine breakfast in response to the wakening, The second day is known for being the hardest, but calling it hard is like calling Denmark big. If you haven't seen much of the rest of the world, it might feel big, but once you have been around, it's quite tiny. The climb is somewhat long, from leaving the morning camp, it took 3 hours to get to the peak of the Dead Woman's Pass; but before the final ascent, we stopped at the "basecamp" for a group picture with the porters, and the last restock of sweets, as it was the last vendor before the lunch spot of the third day, which meant I bought a 6 soles kitkat. The climb was wonderfully steady, but when I could see the pass itself, I couldn't stand it anymore, and ran the last part (under applause from the people already at the top); by now I had been at a high altitude for a long time, so by now I was much more suited for such an explosive use of energy, but that isn't to say that all the air wasn't knocked out of me, because it surely was. But I was the first at the top, and since we were going to take a group picture at the top, I had plenty of time to recuperate. A girl in the group named Kelly had altitude sickness (she was in a group of 4 Americans who had just flown in, no time to get used to the altitude), so she didn't get up till somewhere around 45 minutes to 1 hour after me, so when the last people made it, we had the group picture, and then went down to have lunch. Just like the previous day, lunch was quite amazing, and afterwards we headed on, this time with a very well-kept ruin on the way, followed by an even more beautiful ruin, which in all likelihood was a sort of university under Machu Picchu in Inca times. On this day there was an incredible amount of fog, but later in the day, it made for some spectacular pictures. When we arrived at our campsite, we first had teatime (it wasn't as late as the previous day), which consisted of tea, hot cocoa, popcorn and fried bowtie formed bread, all very delicious. All of this was followed by a session of looking at the sunset, and then dinner. The third day is easiest of the hiking days, so we weren't getting up before 6.30, but that didn't stop anyone from going to bed after dinner anyway.

Day 3, 15th of April:

More or less slept in, got up at 6.30, slow morning as there was no hurry; we (the tourists) were lined up and the porters were as well (opposite to us) and we then got to ask each other questions. They wanted to know our name, age, nationality, occupation, how long we were going to be travelling, how we made the money for it and our marital status (that was aimed at the girls though). So we all did it in English which Flavio translated into Spanish (I didn't do it in English, but in Spanish), and they then said the same things, which Flavio translated into English; however something I was surprised by, was that some of the porters didn't speak Spanish, only Quechua, growing up in the farming communities in the mountains, they never went to school (before they became Llama Path porters), and since Quechua is the language of the mountains, they didn't learn Spanish. However, it could only last for so long so eventually we set off. The day started with a short climb, but after that it was all downhill, there was but one ruin before lunchtime (which was also the campsite for the night), so some of us kept a quick pace, untill at last I set off and started running with some porters from another company. Our porters have nice rucksacks, boots and clothes; they eat good food and sleep in proper tents. They spend 4 days on the trail, and then 4 days in school sponsored by Llama Path (the company I'm with). The porter I was running with, had old wornout crappy sandals, his rucksack was a big bag tied around his neck (he used his hands to keep it down), and he was wearing a torn shirt. But despite all this, I could hardly keep up. I kept slipping, and he was as steady as a llama, but I kept with him all the way to the ruins of the campsite: Winya Huayna. It is an enormous terrace system (the Inca's grew their crops on terraces). Because I was so far ahead of the rest, I ran all the way down to the camp, dumped my gear and ran back up to hear Flavio talk about the ruins. When I made it to the campsite the first time, the porters were still setting up the tents and kicking about, and were rather astonished at how fast I had made it. And although they applaud you every time you leave and arrive at a site (we applaud when they run past), they gave me an extra round. The second time I arrived (with the rest of the group) was an entire hour later. After lunch we got quite some time to kick around, and as there was a small shop, I bought some oreo's, and waited for Flavio to show up again and take us to the last Inca ruin before Machu Picchu, and it really was gorgeous. The Spanish would often call these places "fortresses", because they were built on mountain or hill tops, they were round and the terraces would be great defense mounds. But the Inca's had no notion of fortresses, they built their cities up there to please the sun good, get more sun for the crops, to mnimise the destructive earthquakes and landslides. Everytime there is an earthquake, all the post-inca buildings collapse, but all the Inca buildings keep standing as if nothing had happened. Teatime came and went, and so did dinner. In order to get to see the sunrise on Machu Picchu from the sungate, we were to get up at 4 in the morning (yes, really), so it was an early night for everyone, but after dinner Julian sent two envelopes around, one to put in tips for the porters, and one for the cook. I gave 50 to the porters (roughly 2,5 soles per porter) and 5 for the cook. In this equation there are only 21 porters, as the cook is a porter as well as a cook (hence the double tip). But after we had tipped, the money was taken out, and resorted, 60 for the cook and some 550 or so for the porters, all this was followed by a circle goodbye with the porters (they don't come with us to Machu Picchu) and then bed.

Day 4, 16th of April:

Early early morning, it was completely pitch black, so I had to use my iPod as a torch, but I got my stuff packed, and for breakfast the porters had baked huge cakes, as well as the usual tea, cocoa (of which I spilled a full cup on my travel journal), porage etc. So with full stomachs we walked in total darkness (some people had torches) towards the last checkpoint and the sungate. But we soon realised that it was extremely foggy, and there was no hope of seeing the sunrise on Machu Picchu, and when we eventually made it to the sungate, there was nothing to see. In fact when we made it into Machu Picchu, we couldn't see Machu Picchu, the fog was very intense. We had to go outside the park in any case, and while eating some food, getting the final information and our bus and trainticket, the fog cleared and Machu Picchu was fully visible. After having seen quite some Inca ruins, both in and around Cuzco as well as on the Inca Trail, there is just one word I can use to explain their ruins... Impossible. The pyramids could be built today with modern technologies, the question is how they did it back then. The Inca walls can't be built today, even with modern technology, the way the rocks interlock, without mortar and how the walls always lean to one side, can't be replicated. But the grandeur of it, and at altitudes, how their quarry was often several kilometres away... It makes the statues of Easter Island seem like child's play (although, Easter Island is still my favourite destination in South America). We went back into Machu Picchu and Flavio guided us around the ruins, going over everything, he really is a good guide.We started at the terraces and made our way up through Machu Picchu, into areas where the stonework was finer and finer (meaning richer), until we came to the "Hitching Post of the Sun", the type of the sundial the Inca's used, and a good part of which was knocked off by a tv crew, when the camera crane tipped and landed on the stoneblock. Afterwards we descended to the furthest bottom of Machu Picchu where it is possible to climb Wayna Picchu, the mountain overlooking Machu Picchu, I made it to the top in a mere 25 minutes, took pictures of Gilbert and me, took a long rest (I practically ran up), and descended again. On the way down I came by a sign showing the way to the "Great Cave", and interested as I was, I went down there. It started with a bit of downhill, some uphill and a whole lot of downhill. It took about 20 minutes to get down, and what a disappointment it was, it also became rather clear why the rest of Machu Picchu is crowded, and why this place is fairly deserted, but in hindsight, I'm glad I went, otherwise I wouldn't have known what was there, and maybe been thinking about it for all eternity. Afterwards I walked back up the sungate, when I had come past in the morning, the fog obscured any sort of view, so I went back up to check it out, and that actually was a disappointment, the whole idea with seeing it is the sunrise, and the first sight of Machu Picchu, because the view is quite poor, and the trip up is very strenuous. On the way back, I went up to the Inca Brdige, and got the famous view of Machu Picchu. Afterwards I took the bus down to Aguas Calientes (the nearby town) and grabbed a train back to Ollantaytambo, where a bus picked those of us up who didn't stay in Aguas Calientes and took us all the way to our choices of stay in Cuzco, personally I went back to te Loki hostel for a single night. I would like to say thank you to the fantastic porters and Flavio and Julian, who besides being our fantastic guides, become good friends and helped me with my Spanish (by insisting on talking Spanish with me, for my own good). I have never had that much fun in Spanish before, understanding and telling jokes etc. Flavio and Julian are two great examples of how big a difference a guide can make, I really wish there were more people like them.

P.s. I have posted this unfinished, not all picture links are done, but I simply didn't want to postpone it any longer. If you want to see my pictures as they get up (and all the hundreds of pictures i didn't link), go to my flickr account.

I spent most of the day trying to get my pictures converted and uploaded to flickr, but it all went bad, and when I finally got it right, the internet was too crap to upload the pictures. I also met Mike who invited me to come bungee jump with him, I agreed and we were to meet at 15 o'clock. However that time came and went, and Mike didn't show up till 17 o'clock, apologising. Not much else happened, I played some football with some other people from the hostel, went out for dinner and by 22, my nightbus to La Paz left.

18th of April:

These bordertowns are horrible, and having to wait for 2 hours to get a stamp, so that I can go somewhere else and get a different stamp, is really ridicules. And when you then loose your iPod to a pickpocket trying to cross the border, you get really ticked off. The rest of the trip was acceptable, and I then arrived in La Paz around 12 o'clock, took a taxi to the Wild Rover Backpackers hostel (yes it's Irish) and checked in.

There I also booked a bicycling trip down the worlds most dangerous road, with a company called Gravity, which a lot of people have recommended to me, for having the best equipment.

I wasn't feeling all that great after the busride and everything, so I took it very easy and didn't do much. However I started talking with a Danish girl in my room, who invited me to come along to dinner with her and 3 of her friends. I came along and had a wonderful lasagne which gave me food poisoning.

P.s. I will be posting about the Inca Trail soon, I just want my pictures uploaded, so that I can include them.

I wanted to see alot more (there is a lot more), so I went to the company I am going to Machu Picchu with (and went to Sacred Valley with) and booked a city tour later in the day. Later in the day I was picked up by the tourbus, with a tour led by a very good (and funny) guide, who was very good at explaining, unfortunately most places in the city, taking pictures wasn't allowed, flash or no flash, although pictures from the outside was okay. After having seen the main cathedral in Cuzco, we went to see... Sacsayhuamán. But seeing Sacsayhuamán with a guide was completely different, and I learned a lot more about the place, so it wasn't bad at all. Afterwards we went to the fountain of youth and twins.

I was then back in Cuzco by 18.30, and hung around a bit around the hostel bar, sat down and talked for quite some time with Johno (from New Zealand), but later that evening I ran into none other than Mike Gasson, my great mate from Puerto Natales, Calafate, El Chalten and Santiago. We had the fun that Mike and I always do, right up until I went out to a club called Mama Africa together with James, Steve, 2 Danish girls I had met, Maria and Charlotte as well as a German/Irish girl that I am going on the Inca Trail with and her American friend. However it wasn't nearly as fun as the first time, overcrowded and actually quite dull; so I wasn't back that late, and had time for some good sleep.

In the evening while eating dinner, I met a Norwegian girl (Ingrid) from Kristiansand, before I wen quite early to bed, extremely tired.

It is very hard to describe the Sacred Valley, we spent several hours walking amongst the gorgeous ruins, while our guide told us about what we were seeing, and there really was a feeling of awe towards what the Incas did. For example they would cut out their stones in their quarry, transport it all the way down the mountain, across a valley and up again on the other side, using nothing but manpower. The tour really took all day, and explaining it is quite hard, mainly we would walk in between Inca ruins, see their buildings and farming terraces, but also look at what they had sculpted in the mountainside. The last thing we saw was a traditional cloth production place, followed by one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen, the exterior was pretty normal, but the inside was absolutely stunning, and unfortunately, taking pictures wasn't allowed.

After a long and gorgeous tour, we turned back towards Cuzco, and I arrived back at my hostel around 18:30, where I struck up conversation with 2 Dutch girls, whom I talked with for some time in the hostel bar (I also manage to find 2 Danish girls who live in Copenhagen, hooray for the first people from Zealand). I ate dinner at the hostel (they make dinner every night for 10 sol), a wonderful Irish stew, which I ate together with an American girl called Heather (rather British name), and after that we watched the second half of Flamengo (Bra) vs. Nacional (Per). As it got later, they invited me to come along to a nightclub, a territory thus far unknown to me. But I came along, and the rest as they say... Is history.

Up at the hostel, check in didn't begin till 13 o'clock, so I safel left my rucksack in the reception, and went out to pay my Inca Trail, a 4 day hike with porters and a chef, in total my group is 15 travelers with 21 porters and a chef. That is the only way to do it, you are not allowed to do it on your own. In fact most people in my group have gone extravagant and hired a personal porter for an extra 90 USD. For me the trip runs up to 440 USD, with 420 for the trip (which does include nearly everything) and 20 for a sleeping bag, as the one I brought can't handle the temperatures around here.

My headache was really bad, so I didn't really feel like walking around the city, so I spent most of the day hanging out at the hostel, and when I was allowed to check in at 13 o'clock, I was given room 123 which I am sharing with, 3 Norwegian girls, 1 English girl and a Canadian guy.

Roused from my sleep at 5:30 in the morning as we have made it to Mariscal Estigarribia, which although far from the Bolivian border is where the exit stamp from Paraguay is given. I also believe that the officials were as sleepy as me and everyone else (except the driver, I hope) as they stamped the wrong day in my passport, so now I left Paraguay on the 4^th instead of the 5^th. Back on the bus I went back to sleep, much like all the other passengers.

I woke up again around 8.30, and started The Odyssey and this time finished it, what an amazing book, truly it has held up the test of time, and is a worthy recommendation for everybody. Back in the real world, I still couldn't get the Swedes to talk, I don't know why, but they will rather sit and quietly stare out the window, all 3 of them, so I just let them do so. Instead I start reading a book I have been anxious to read for some time now, when I was in Buenos Aires I picked up the sequel to Master and Commander, called Post-Captain. However it was also around this time I discovered, that my water bottle had broken open and my diary, which had been in water for some time now, had taken heavy water damage, especially the spine, and the pages with writing (my pen was lodged there, giving the water easy access) have been badly damaged, so at a later time I will have to carefully dry it.

Later on the trip, deeply taken in by my book, we had stopped for one of the countless checks you have to endure in Bolivia: I had crossed into Bolivia around 10 or 11 o'clock, a process that was very painless and gave a beautiful blue and green stamp, much like the Chilean, except for green instead of red. Anyway the checkpoint soldiers were waving my rucksack around, calling out in an aggressive tone for the owner, so I pulled out my passport, toughened myself and went to see what was wrong. I was immediately asked why I was carrying questionable substances, which normally means drugs, but in my case meant contact lenses. so after having explained the nature of contact lenses, they let me have my rucksack back, allowed me to repack it (they tore everything out, possibly looking for white powder), and the bus was off again.

After a long and uninteresting drive (after the drug check(, I arrived in Santa Cruz, and instead of crashing on a bed somewhere, I decided to take a second bus, straight to La Paz, and instead get some time there, and then take a a night bus the day after to Cuzco and arrive on the 8^th in the morning, thus getting more or less 1,5 full days in La Paz, although I o intend to return.

But one has to be way in South America, this is also a tale of how I got my money cheated away from me, although I wasn't aware. I went into the terminal to buy my ticket, and found a nice looking company which would take me straight to La Paz, only 18 hours (on top of my initial 23 hours) and at the meager price of 250 Bolivian peso. Since I was a new arrival I had unfortunately not checked what a Bolivian peso was worth, and since the bus left about 10 minutes later, I thought I might as well just seize the ticket, so to speak.

On board the bus I sat next to a very kind Bolivian named Lorgio, who frequently travels around the country (he is a farmer with 5 different estates, a sort of engineer). The bus left at 20 o'clock, but we talked for a long time into the night, and I really do swear that my discussions become more advanced; not only did we talk about the usual stuff, but also immigration problems in Denmark, caused by the Muhammed cartoons. This would also be a good time to point out, that I do not master Spanish to such a degree, far from. What I do is make up sentences from simpler words, gesticulate or make the other person guess it, and learn the word that way. That being said, I have never set out to say something, and not gotten it across. He lives in a city called Rurrenabaque, which is a place I am going to, as the nearby park holds the worlds greatest biodiversity, including 10% of all known bird species. But sleepiness overcame me, and I eventually said goodnight and tried to get some sleep. However this was a domestic Bolivian trip, which meant screaming babies, horrible seats with knees in your back, and around 1 o'clock, I was woken up as someone was shouting something about a police/military search of the bus. It turned out that the driver had just thought it a great idea, that when everybody in the bus was sleeping, to stop at a roadside place, where there are toilets and food to buy, who wouldn't want that in their sleep?

One thing I forgot to mention is how to use public toilets, you go up and pay a ridicules sum of 1 Bolivian peso, you then get some toilet paper and a ticket. The toiletpaper I get, but you are right at the entrance, why would I need a ticket, to verify that I purchased my entrance, I'm already there. It is still a funny concept however.

6^th of April:

Around 8 o'clock, the bus arrived in Cochabamba (Kotjavamba), and the driver told everyone to get out, something that hardly reached me as I was going to La Paz, or so I thought. Turns out that the bus company I was driving with doesn't go further than La Paz, so although I knew it to be futile, I decided to have some free fun, and went into their office to complain. Not only did it in fact say on the ticket that it was only valid till Cochaama, it also said that I only paid 60 Bolivian peso for it... Enraged by this pathetic abuse of my money, I did nothing, there was nothing to do. So I went with Lorgio to buy a new ticket, and we each bought a ticket to La Paz, this time a somewhat shorter trip (7,5 hours) but at a meagre 30 Bolivian peso. Afterwards we had breakfast, a sort of Bolivian empanada, just with a greater diversity of content and the name “saltena”.

We boarded the bus (Lorgio and I), this last part was rather uninteresting, although for once they showed movies, but as to be expected, they were dubbed into Spanish with no subtitles. We arrived in La Paz trouble free, where Lorgio helped me buy a ticket to Cuzco, although I had hoped for a nightbus the following day, only morningbuses were available, which means I will arrive in Cuzco at 1 or 2 in the morning, but such is life. I took a taxi all the way through La Paz to my hostel, which cost me approx. 1 USD, a sum I am ready to pay. Once in my hostel, I signed up for the dinner that was arranged there, and checked out (as I was leaving so early, having to be at the terminal at 8 in the morning). In my room I met Danny from Cambridge, and we talked for lengths about music, in particular the music he could play on his guitar, right up until the moment when one of his strings snapped.

After such a long bus trip, I really wasn't up for anything, so I didn't do anything. Just sat around reading in my book, being unhappy with all supermarkets being closed, so I would have absolutely no food on my 16 hour bustrip the following day.

I had signed up for a good dinner at the hostel, which although was a bit small. But afterwards when I walked back to my room, I met Patrick (of Bariloche fame), that wonderful Irish guy, which is why it almost saddened me that I was leaving the next day. However we did recap on what we had done, since last we had met. But that was also around when i discovered that my DVD's with my pictures on were gone, stolen. I searched high and low for them, all over the hostel, and with the assistance of Patrick, but they were simply nowhere to be found. Luckily I always burn my DVD's out to two copies, but it is still very annoying, and would steal them? The only DVD which is now lost, is my DVD #2. The major problem being that the copy my father has (I send them home), doesn't work. I had the DVD #2 on me along with #4 and #5 as I was hoping to send them home by post, but that wasn't possible as the post service in Paraguay is horrible, and here in Bolivia the postal workers are on strike.

But I was tired and hungry, so instead of prolonging my pain, I went early to bed to get some decent sleep, something I really needed after two horrible nights sleeping on a bus.

7^th of April:

I woke several times during the night, it is a lot colder here (La Paz is at an altitude of 3000m, which gives a lot of new arrivals headaches, but my only problem is the air being too thin to whistle), but the beds are well equipped. I woke several times during the night, as several people came back at different times, causing somewhat of a ruckus. However at 6.15 I had slept for a long time (went to ed at 22), so I got up, packed my bag, confirmed my reservation for Cuzco, the destination of today.

I caught a taxi to the terminal, and sat around for an hour waiting, before I bought some sandwiches and some water for the trip, and just like that I was off for Cuzco. As we came closer to the Paraguay border, we had to endure more and more searches, more and more stops; but nothing happened. And then after some 2,5 hours we arrived at the border. Here we had to leave Bolivia, cross a bridge and officially enter Peru.

Furthermore we also had to change bus, as our own bus was tiny, and a lot more would join us from other buses. Unfortunately for us, they left on later buses, so we had to wait for a very long time. But the time passed and we boarded our second bus, which took us as far as Puno. In Puno we once again had to change bus (by now, only two of us who left La Paz were left).

After a busride which felt unbelievably long, not helped by the Spanish dubbed Chuck Norris film, which was so worn (VHS) that you couldn't see anything, just hear it; the bus arrived in Cuzco. So Florian (a German I had met on the bus) and I took a taxi to a hospedaje (guesthouse), as the hostel I was gonna stay at was full (my reservation wasn't till the following day). I went straight to sleep, and just like that... I was in Cuzco.