The Road to Nowhere

I took my 9 hour bus journey from Trujillo to Talara in a local bus called 'El Dorado'. Before entering the bus, passengers had to make sure they'd no guns on their possession. A fingerprint had to be taken which was attached to a piece of paper with your seat number on it. I was the only white 'gringa' female on the whole journey. The bus was quite old; air conditioning was turned on by opening the windows and the flies and smell of arses were included in the price. It did have one working TV at the front which continuously showed 3 films of 'George de la selva' (George of the Jungle) and one actually repeated itself in the course of the journey. Never before have I seen George of the Jungle and never again do I want to see it.  The sound was deafening and there was a constant whirring noise on the TV. 


The bus was full and a girl in her mid 20's sat beside me. As soon as she sat down, I could have sworn she had a kipper in her bag; either that or she'd some sort of infection. Jaysus, the smell of fish was wild, and it disappeared as she left the bus. In the seat across from me sat a man in his 50's who constantly gobbed (spat up phlegm) the whole way there, either on the floor or the seat in front of him.  At every toll, people got on selling food/drinks (I stuck to my ham baps) and of course, fishy beside me, fed her face at each stop and fell asleep after her food had disappeared down her oesophagus (obviously her body was exhausted from all the digesting it was doing).  


We drove through endless desert upon desert. Looking out the window each time, the scenery never seemed to change. I moved seats once darkness had arrived, as lots of people got off at the stop prior to mine and some weird, local guy decided to sit beside me, replacing the guy who was gobbing and kept staring at me. Naturally, I gave him the 'WTF look' and moved to another seat .  I eventually arrived in Talara to streets full of moto-taxis - it was like being back in Thailand again for a short while. The moto-taxis were unable to take me to my place of rest in the desert as the sand was too much for their little tyres. So I managed to find a taxi car to take me, which was expensive, but I didn't care as I just wanted to arrive in Lobitos as I was tired.


On entering Lobitos, there is a military check-point, which I already knew about. However, stopping at this check-point, I could hear the soldiers telling the driver that the house I was going to HelpX in was closed. Naturally, in my head, I was like, no - it's ok, of course it's not closed as I was in contact with them via email before I left Trujillo.
I arrived at the driveway of the house (this place really was in the middle of nowhere/desert) only to be greeted by two armed soldiers with a dog.  The taxi driver told them I was an 'amiga' of the owners and they exchanged words and I could still hear them saying it was closed. I asked them if it was ok if I could get out and speak to the people in the house. I was then followed by these armed guards to the front door; which was a window. The soldiers prohibited me from entering and I had to sit on the bench outside the window and talk to the people through it.


The owner had apparently gone to Lima on Tuesday and couldn't seem to be contacted by phone, email or facebook. In the house were 5 HelpXers (the 2 main people I was in contact with via email were from Germany - Sebastian and Andrea; hippy looking people, with dread locks in their hair; another guy from France, who had arrived in the morning and was quite shy and obviously in shock at the soldiers being outside the house. He went to bed...probably wondering how to get the hell out). There were 3 other guys there, who were in Lobitos to surf.  Naturally, at the start, I wasn't too concerned and thought that the soldiers had to 'ok' my arrival, as the area is used as a military base.


Time passed, and Sebastian, the German, spoke to the soldiers and still, I wasn't allowed in. This time there were 5 of them around me, talking on their walkie talkies, disappearing into the darkness, then re-appearing again to make sure I hadn't entered.  I didn't feel threatened by them (maybe the Police and military presence around good aul N.Ireland had something to do with that). By this stage I was wrecked, and Jack the Ripper could've been standing in front of me and I wouldn't have been bothered.


Whilst sitting there, I got to chat to the Andrea, the German girl and she said that as soon as the owner left on Tuesday, the military swooped into the house, cordoned off the place (with that type of sticky tape the cops use when there has been a murder scene...which was still visible on all of the doors - probably why I couldn't get in a door and had to sit at a window).  They wanted to know who was in the house, questioned them and went into every room taking photos and not allowing people to enter.  Now, by this stage, I was getting a bit suspicious. It's like the people inside were under some sort of house arrest (even though I'm sure they weren't) and then there was dopey me, sitting outside trying to get in.


Time passed and still under no circumstances, was I allowed in and there was to be no more than 8 people inside. It was a night on the desert for me then. I was escorted off the premises by armed soldiers with their fat perro (dog) in tow and it didn't matter to them that I was by myself, female, and had nowhere to stay. Even my 'pretty please' in Spanish didn't swing it for me. A tiny bit of me wanted to try and bribe them, but I chickened out. Later, Sebastian and Andrea came and said they knew of a place nearby that I could stay. There was a wee surf hostel located down the sandy pathway that was able to accommodate me for the night. The HelpX house paid for my night and told me to come back the next morning. Even after everything that had happened, they were still desperate to get me back into that house the next day (?), which was a bit strange alright.


I slept in the nice surf hostel and got to waken to the sound of the waves; but as soon as I got up and had a look outside (i.e. sand with oil rigs dotted over the place) and saw my other house on the hill; I decided, enough was enough - time to leave. Even if I wanted to stay, there was no way the military would let me and I didn't fancy a bullet to the head if I tried to enter the house.  The wee hostel I stayed in was very basic but nice; full of surfers who were friendly and I met a nice guy called Elmo, who was finishing his surfing there after 3 months and was looking to get into Talara to get a bus to Lima. He told me that there was always something not right about the house I was meant to be in and advised me to stay well away. 


I took his advice and decided to get a combi (without saying goodbye to the others in the HelpX house) with him to the nearest Cruz del Sur bus station here (there was no way I was jumping on the local 'El Dorado' bus again). I decided to spend a few extra Soles in comfort and safety on my next journey.  The only Cruz del Sur bus out of this place goes direct to Lima. If I wanted to get to the border of Ecuador with some bus company/border crossing, I'd have to take the local dodgy buses; but have been well warned off these as the border crossings are dangerous and can be quite hairy if you take the wrong bus. I think I've had my fill for one day and Lima sounds great - so I'm taking the next fancy bus out of here back to the city of Lima. God knows where after this; I'll figure out something on my 18 hour journey back to Lima (I could swear Cusco is trying to pull me back again - how dare it!!).


If this had happened to me 4 years ago, I probably would've been on the first flight home. Now, I don't get too bothered - always another extra story to tell. I think the last year of travel has definitely chilled me out - great stuff!

Oh Trujillo, you're breakin my heart

'You're shakin my confidence daily, oh Trujillo, I'm down on my knees, I'm begging you please to go home, go on home!' (sing this to the Simon and Garfunkel 'Cecilia').


Woo-hoo - two new posts within the space of a few days. Shows how bored shiteless I am in this place called Trujillo. This dump is the third largest city in Peru, the 'Capital of the Everlasting Spring' (yeah right, a cloud of fog more like) and the birthplace of Peru's judiciary and was the scene of the Revolution of Trujillo in 1932 and to be honest looks like the revolution never ended. A bit of brightly coloured buildings in the plaza and pink and blue buildings falling down all over the place, with every car being a taxi (probably to take people anywhere but here).  Apparently it was twice the capital of Peru - thank God, some judge up here decided to give it back to Lima, as he obviously realised how awful it was and saw sense in returning it to its rightful place.


This place is boring with a capital 'B'. Reasons to those stated above: -

• Tried to find a bit of nightlife here - the first being an Irish bar called 'The Office'. Googled it and went in search of it (as there was nowhere near the plaza opened or any bars that were mentioned either closed down, were non-existent). Asked lots of people where it was and got looks of uncertainty, so the time came to google it again, not only to realise this bar was actually in Trujillo in Costa Rica (just thousands of miles up into Central America).

• The hostel is like a ghost-hostel with the room resembling that of a box, with an entrance of white iron gates, resembling that in a convent. It does have big showers mind you; and the daily breakfast of two baps and jam are coming out of my ears.

• The streets are lined in a grid shape and unfortunately they all lead back to the Plaza de Armas, which is dull, in comparison to Cusco terms. The only exciting thing happening, was one man singing out loud to people sitting on the benches (to be honest, I think he was a bit mental anyway).

• Received a sheet of info from the lady who owned the hostel and one of the main highlights of Trujillo was to go and visit the 'Museo de Jugetes' - 'The Toy Museum' ..eh no thanks along with a UNESCO  World Heritage Site of 'Chan Chan' - In my non exciting historical eyes; it's a big sandcastle that has eroded away.  The only joy I got visiting here was trying to be a rebel by climbing over a bit of rope onto another piece of sand and getting a whistle blown at me by the Security Guard shouting 'Prohibito'. It was open from 9-4.30pm - myself and Grainne arrived up at 2.20pm and were walking out of it by 2.40pm down the dusty 2km road back onto the main 'highway'

• Turn from the plaza and take a left down one street and you'll find a shop selling glasses and next to this shop, you'll find another selling glasses and the same repeated the whole way down - I have no idea how any of these people make a living when the shop right next door is exactly the same.

• There is the beach however, which is a 40 minute combi-ride out of the historical centre and is a nice change, but looks a bit like Newcastle Beach in County Down about 30 years ago where you're not sure if it is sand or dog poo that you are treading in along the path.  Maybe it's history and quaintness are lost on me because I can't wait to get the hell out of this complete dive. It like being in a prison here - even walking on the streets zaps all the energy from you.  The only joy we've had so far is eating at a nice restaurant for 9 Soles (£2) for 3 courses and Grainne trimming my hair!!

But, of course, I am getting out of here in less than 24 hours time and Grainne is heading south to Arequipa, so I'm on my own travelling again. Three days was enough here. I have booked myself onto some dodgy bus that the locals get heading up the coast (gone are the posh/safe/expensive/GPS Navigation/ 2 bus drivers & host/fully reclining seats/free wifi/food on board Cruz del Sur buses that I've been using here in Peru) to Talara which is 9 hours drive away. It'll be my own food/stuck beside a chorlita with bread sticking out of her backpack/seats that recline 5 degrees or knowing my luck, forward/free Wifi for anyone wishing to steal my laptop/1 bus driver maybe taking a nap up the coast/28 Soles (£6 for a 9 hour bus journey compared to nearly 90 Soles for the same length of time on Cruz del Sur to get to Trujillo from Lima).

After this, I will be heading off into the desert of Peru - the west coast is very deserted the further north you go. As I said before, I will be going to a place called 'Lobitos' which used to be an old English port which has now been taken over by the Peruvian military and is being used as a base and training area, in the middle of a desert 40 minutes away from the nearest town or city.

After my bus arrives in Talara, hopefully with my bags still with me at this point, I have to try and get my way to Lobitos using a moto-taxi or combi (but somehow I don't think I'll be appreciated on a combi the size of a workers van with people squashed into it and me and my big pink bag entering) and find my way to a big 'pink house'. But before I find this I need to pass through the police check-point in the area. The people I'll be working with sound absolutely lovely and the place seems pretty chilled out, so looking forward to it. Anything is an improvement to Trujillo, even the vast emptiness of a desert on one side, with the sound of the ocean on another sounds good...'Jubilaaaaaation!!!!' (the end of the song for Cecilia/'Trujillo').

Lima

I'm now at present in Lima - a city covered by low fog all day long. I'm in an area of the city called Miraflores which is right by the coast. Went for a run along a bit of the coastal route yesterday and the sea/coastline is stunning. The city, even though I was here last year for a few days, is a far cry from Cusco. Miraflores is a wealthy area of Lima with high rise buildings, hotels, casinos, fancy cars, people running, skateboarding and surfing etc. It's hard to believe that Cusco and Lima are two cities in the same country. Completely opposite ends of the scale and it's easier to breathe here as I'm now back at sea level and my lungs are thanking me for it.

I graduated from Spanish school last week and received an intermediate certificate (go me!) and now I'm ready to use my new found knowledge as I travel bits of South America. Here's hoping I'll become a bit better as I move onwards. I would love to be fluent in another language - I'm so jealous of those people who can speak two, three or more languages. In my last week at school, I had to dress up in local traditional dress with a few other students and model or in my case prance down a home-made catwalk (between a handful of plastic white chairs onto a tiny blanket with a chico on my other arm). Was really good fun.

Myself and Grainne were also coerced into setting up a stall in one of the plazas in Cusco and talk about Ireland to let the locals know about our country and culture. Initially, the school was asked for two American students, but Mayke, the director of the school said that she knew of 'dos chicas locas de Irlanda' (two crazy girls from Ireland) that would be be able to help out (even though there were loads of American students in the school).  'Chica loca' (crazy girl) has replaced my Christian name - no idea why, as I'm just being my usual self. I suppose it's the Spanish version of my nickname 'Maddog'/'Mad' at home.

Well, we set up our stall in the plaza and you can guess what was probably on it - yes, empty cans of Guinness, a couple of flags, a huge Guinness money pot, two leprechaun hats - really sells Ireland as a serious country (not) - more like a country that likes to drink alcohol and party all the time!  Grainne dressed up as a leprechaun; I painted my face and legs and wore my St Nicholas' school Gaelic jersey - and yes, we both looked like complete tits standing there tying to explain in Spanish about Ireland to the locals. We felt a bit famous for the day as there were loads of randomers coming up to us asking for a photo. 

Our stall, even though it would have looked ridiculous at home, was better than the rest. Beside us was Ecuador - on this stall hung an Ecuadorian flag and on the table they were selling 'perro kaka' (translated literally as 'dog poo')in little bags (but they were some sort of chocolates). The guy looked bored as hell and spent most of the day reading his book, with hardly anyone coming to his stall. Mexico was there too and they had a tiny table selling nachos and then there was Argentina - they nearly killed us all with the smoke from their barbeque, selling sausages, meat and what looked like intestines. Someone must have complained about the smoke, as the Police turned up and told them to move their BBQ elsewhere.

Was looking forward to Inti Raymi in Cusco - a huge festival here that I described in my last blog. But alas, I only got to see the crowd leaving the plaza after it had all finished. The reason? Well, we all decided to go out the night before and didn't get home until 7am the next day. Was a great wee night. We had Sandra, one of the Directors of all of the language schools in Peru, Bolivia and Ecuador staying in our residence for the week. A really lovely lady, who we decided to ask if she wanted to come out with us for a drink (her first taste of Guinness) along with Mayke, another Director. Mayke left after one drink and Sandra continued on til the wee small hours of the morning.

The next day there was no sign of Sandra from her room (now this woman works like 10 hours a day or more, nearly everyday, and is normally up early in the morning to work). We thought that we'd maybe killed the woman and had to knock on her door to see if she was ok. Thankfully, she was alive and well - but I don't think she'll be accepting offers from us Irish again. 

I love Cusco and somehow I think I'll end up back there again someday for my fourth time. I have no idea what it is; it is like a magnet that keeps pulling me back. I have met many locals and some of the ones who work in the school invited myself and Grainne round to their house for dinner before we left. There's a little Cusquenan family there in my second home - it's great.

Tomorrow, myself and Grainne will be catching a bus at 11.30pm to Trujillo (after a baby-shower here with some friends of a host family that Grainne stayed with in Cusco last year), a city north of Lima, which is 9 hours away. I will be staying here until Wednesday and after that, we'll be off on our separate ways. I want to go northwards up through Peru and into Ecuador; Grainne is going to go down to Arequipa  - a city I've already visited last year, before she heads on home.

I will make my way up the north of Peru, along the west coast, where there are lots of beaches and sun and will make my way near Mancora, which is a massive surfing spot here in Peru. I will be staying in a place called Lobitos, which is a surfing camp near the sea, and where there is some HelpX work (yep, I'll be starting that up again).  They've kept me a spot working for them - not sure exactly, but probably bar work, cleaning dorms, helping in the kitchen etc. Have said I'll stay for 2 weeks, or more, depending on how I get on and if I don't get bored. My visa for Peru, still lasts for another 2 months as I got 120 days instead of 90 - still have no idea how this has happened. As long as I don't get arrested for a mistake that the immigration officer may have made on my passport when I entered the country.

After this, my sketchy plan is to go into Ecuador - I may decide to go back to Spanish school in Quito for a couple of weeks there or volunteer...who knows - I have no clue!  It's hard to believe that I finished teaching, exactly this time last year - the year has flown by.

Eberth and myself dressed up in local costume at school

My two Peruvian mums in Cusco 

Our 'Ireland stall' in the plaza 

Crowds of people in the Plaza de Armas for Inti Raymi

Myself, Sandra (the Director of  the Spanish Schools), Mayke and Grainne with  their first Guinness

All Clear

Thankfully, I was given the all clear by the specialist today. The virus has gone from my eye, but she told me that it will return again - could be weeks, months, maybe longer, but when it does I've to seek medical help at once.  Here's hoping I'm not in the arse end of nowhere. If that does happen, then I'll happily take a flight to the 'The First World' rather than losing my sight altogether here in some Third World country in South America. The specialist who was looking after me was lovely. I've never come across a nicer doctor. Each time I went, she gave me a kiss and a hug goodbye - nice doctors over here - the doctors at home could learn a thing or two!!!

Next week is my last week of Spanish classes here in Cusco. Two weeks ago I think I hit a brick wall as the poor teacher was nearly pulling her hair out trying to make me understand complemento directos and indirectos. They had me in a class with another student from France, who was clearly fluent in Spanish and who could speak, understand and basically could have taught the teacher.

I asked nicely to be moved to another class the following week to revise some of the things I learnt prior as all these verbs that need conjugated were confusing me. This week, I'm with an American student who has been learning Spanish since Grade 8 and who is taking Spanish as a minor at University. There are so many past tenses in Spanish (so far, I've been taught the preterito simple, presente perfecto, pluscamperfecto and the preterito imperfecto - there are probably more which I'll gladly never learn). Why can't it just be easy and only have one -it's doing my nut in. 

Since my last blog, Grainne, my friend from Ireland, arrived in a complete dump for her volunteering miles outside Cusco city. No sooner had the poor girl arrived in her homestay, she was looking out of it. Grainne, no sooner had she put her bags in her room, just left her house and came to mine. She decided she wanted out, so thought it was a good idea to go and collect her bags from her homestay. Two hours later in a taxi, the two of us were driving around Cusco to find her home - we had no idea where it was; neither did the taxi driver or the vagabonds on the street, so we made our way back to my house; decided to google a map and directions to her house to give to another taxi driver. 

Ok, great stuff - or so we thought. We got into a taxi, showed the taxi the directions from my house to hers. The taxi driver took off, turned the car around the block and hey presto...he brought us both to my house. Grainne, at this stage was in the back saying  'what the bleep' - two of us arriving back to where we were in the first place, practically outside my door (the two of us in stitches at this stage). Eventually we got there, took her bags and flitted in the early evening. She is now safe and sound in the same residence as myself and two others (she's in the Presidential Suite at the top of the house - own double bed, bathroom etc and the rest of us are slumming it and sharing at the plebian level below) and volunteering with the Spanish school that I'm in here in Cusco.

The altitude is being a wee shite as per usual. I'm blaming it for being baltic here at night, breaking my phone, computer, charger and now my straighteners along with my dodgy eye. Here in Peru, people don't tend to throw things out - they get them fixed again and again. Found a little set of electrical shops down the back streets of Cusco and the wee man in the tin shed of a shop of his (no bigger than about 2m x 2m) said he could fix them. He told me to come back that afternoon. 

I arrived back at the time only to find he wasn't there and my straighteners were lying there with the wires everywhere. I sat and watched the TV with a couple of the other men in the 'electric shed' and still no sign of him. I was thinking that he hadn't a clue, knew when I was arriving and scarpered. 1.5 hours later I said I'd return the next day. Lo and behold, he wasn't there again, straighteners still lying in the same place. Finally, on the third day, I cornered him and found out that my little straighteners couldn't be fixed. Obviously the circuit was way too advanced for his techinical skills (which involved him using 2 screwdrivers and some kind of outdated ohmmeter to tell him if it was working).

During the weekend, myself and Grainne decided to get into the spirit of Euro 2012 and support Ireland in their first match against Croatia. Grainne brought over the Irish flag and some t-shirts from home to wear. We found some face paint here in Cusco and I bought the Peru flag (as Peru were playing Uruguay in a World Cup Qualifier for Brazil). Off we went, dressed in our colours and headed to the local Irish bar. 

We left our house with our flags in hand; faces painted and Grainne singing 'You'll never beat the Irish'.  As soon as we left the passage to our house, we ran into what we thought was some type of funeral.There was a crowd of people walking slowly past us: priests, altar boys etc. looking at us dressed like eejits. It was slightly awkward situation alright!  Luckily, it wasn't a funeral, it was some sort of procession for Corpus Christi.  So, happily we continued onto Paddy's Irish bar here. The two of us were the only ones dressed in our finery - after a couple of drinks, we didn't care. In the end, Ireland lost miserably and Peru lost also - both teams at the bottom of their respective tables. It didn't take long for Grainne to take out her baby wipes and remove the flags from her face. Me, I slept in mine.

Cusco is renowned for all of its fiestas. There isn't a weekend that goes by without the people singing and dancing in the street, full of lots of colour. Corpus Christi was absolutely huge here. Never seen so many people in the Plaza del Aramas and have never seen so many holy statues (and scary looking ones at that) being paraded through the city with the local Cusquenans drinking and eating guinea pig - any excuse for a party.

The biggest fiesta of all here is on 24th June - Cusco Day/'Dia del Cusco', or more famously 'Inti Raymi' which is massive over here. It is the 'Festival of the Sun' which is a religious Inca festival in honour of the god 'Inti' and takes place in the winter solstice when the sun is furthest from the earth (tell me about it - damn freezing here at night, the cold is ridiculous!). Apparently, it's the second largest festival here in South America, after the Rio Carnival. Have timed my classes perfectly as they finish on the Friday of that weekend. Myself and Grainne have decided to leave Cusco after Inti Raymi and head to lower grounds.

My dodgy eye

Carrying holy statues around Cusco

Supporting Ireland and Peru in Paddy's Pub, Cusco

Daily fiestas in the Plaza de Armas in Cusco

Cusco Cyclops

Ok, a bit more serious than I thought...see the red text at the bottom of the blog...fun, fun!

Yes, Cyclops is my name, except I am not a super-hero with an eye in the middle of my head. No, I have one working eye at present and am managing to scare some of the little children in Cusco with the local population starting at me as I walk (or try to walk without tripping over something) along the pavements here.  My head is covered with a huge, white, eye bandage, that conceals over one quarter of the right side of my face.

Further to my latest blog a couple of days ago about me complaining about the altitude affecting my eye I have managed to probably have one of the most expensive weekends in Cusco (in Cusquenañ terms) along with visiting a few clinics and hospitals in the area.

Since last Tuesday in classes my right eye hasn´t been functioning properly so I´d had enough by Friday evening and went into the pharmacy and asked for some cream for my right eye. The lady, who I think was just some sort of assistant, or maybe someone just off the street, saw the shelf for eye cream and lifted the first box she saw. Obviously everything was in Spanish and I was having trouble reading the instructions, so I placed some drops of cream into my eye.

Went to bed early that night, to rest my eye. Never slept a wink, walked the floors as my eye, by this stage was killing me. I was thinking that maybe some flesh eating bug had got into my eye and was eating away at it or had picked up some disease out here (the things you think of late at night when you can´t sleep).

After a couple of hours sleep, the brighness woke me up. Looked in mirror, eye was bulging and swollen. Put some more cream into eye. I went to the local market (as the cleaners were in the house) to get out of the way. It was way too bright and could hardly see 2 ft in front of me. Horti, one of the women who works in the school, who is like a mum to everyone (so sweet) called round and took me to the doctors. The first clinic wasn´t too far from where I lived. It was an eye clinic that looked really dodgy with an old room out the back and a dangerous looking staircase that led to other rooms. Thankfully the doctor wasn´t there until later.

We scarpered and found another clinic. This one was a bit better and more upmarket and they worked alongside the Swiss doctors. Anything Swiss is good - like those Swiss watches and chocolate you can´t beat them - and there´s Roger Federer too.  Off I went in the little ´Peruvian/Swiss ambulance´ to the nearest 'eye doctor/clinic'. The ambulance was ok - a bit small, even for me. Had to crouch down in the back, the little bed was about the width of a 40cm ruler and was pretty squashed. On the walls of the ambulance were a few bits of hospital equipment like a mask, some tubes, a test tube of water (?) and some plasters/bandages. No monitors or heart equipment, so God help the unfortunate person that manages to have a heart attack over here - they´re screwed because 1. there´s no room to move and 2. there´s no proper equipment.

Got taken by ambulance to the eye-doctor in another area in Cusco and she was lovely. Checked my eye and saw that there still was a tear on the cornea from the time I injured it in school, which has yet to heal, she pulled something out of my eye with tweezers. It started with a ´P´ in Spanish - I´m guessing it may have been an eyelash and then told me I had a corneal ulcer at the bottom of the existing tear in the eye. Oh yay, that´s great news. She told me I wasn´t to go out and was to keep my eye closed for 24 hours(so I missed the salsa with the others) and proceeded to bandage me. No eye patch here. She spent 5 minutes cutting white tape and finding some gauze and stuck my eye closed shut, whilst covering most of my face. She also told me that the eye cream that the person in the pharmacist gave me earlier, was the wrong type of antibiotic and made my eye worse (I knew she looked dodgy that woman). The ambulance dropped me off home - mortified was not the word.

Now I look like some kind of freak walking the streets here. My friends have acted like my white stick and helped me across the roads etc. Everywhere I go, people stop and stare. I´m in the process of trying to translate into Spanish, 'I have been shot in the eye' so I can maybe wear some sort of billboard around my neck. The experience has been fun to say the least and my treatment is ongoing but I have been able to learn lots of Spanish words about the ´hospital´- always a bonus!

Found out today (Monday) when I returned to my lovely eye doctor for a check up that it is actually more serious than originally thought. It´s not technically an ulcer - I´ve got a virus in my eye - the ´zoster keratitis virus´ Basically shingles in my eye, that if not treated quickly can cause blindness. Near shit a brick when she told me. Caused by a lowering of the immune system. Years ago I got shingles (herpes zoster..no not the STD - it´s unrelated!) in my ear as my immune system was rundown, so the virus stays dormant until it decides to reawaken again.

I feel great but maybe all the over-exercise in Thailand had something to do with it and the tuna/peas food that I eat! Glad I went back so am on various anti-virals to treat me and under medical surpervision and have to go back to see her next week, but apart from that I´m still loving it here and still managing to learn my Spanish verbs, which I´m kind of getting the hang of. I also took the stupid cover off my eye...had enough of being the local city freak much to the amusement of my friends/classmates here!

Hola desde Cusco

Arrived in Cusco after 4 days of travelling from Belfast - London - Madrid - Lima - Cusco. Back in the same house and the same bed. It's like home from home. So much for a nice easy first day back in school. I didn't even get the chance to fail my entrance test again. They had my notes from last October and decided to put me straight back into class. I'm in a class by myself with my teacher, Erwin and started with verbos irregulares. Classes and teachers change each week, so next week a new student could be in with me, depending on the numbers arriving.

My basic Spanish is really rusty. The first day, one of the teachers in the school said to me in Spanish, "Enjoy your lunch" - my reply was "Gracias, tengo hombre" (thanks, I'm men) instead of "Tengo hambre". They all pissed themselves laughing. In class I'm constantly mis-pronouncing words all the time and reading them like they were English words. There are listening, reading, writing and talking skills for the 4 hours of intense lessons. I'd be reading a passage of some really old and hard book, trying to pronounce and understand what it was saying and the next minute the teacher would be in stitches laughing. I look up, ask him why he's laughing so much, he replies.."Oh, you've just said a bad word" (with my mis pronunciation) - one was masturbation and the other was farting.

Just like the last time, the teachers all converse in Spanish for the whole 4 hours, so by the time I leave the school my brain is fried.  But today, (Friday) was a good day - bit more relaxed and the student can go on walks around Cusco after breaktime, with their teacher (conversing in Spanish). The student gets to decide where to go, for example: el museo, el mercado etc. I chose the highest Irish bar on the planet - ´Paddy´s´, so we stopped there for one drink and I introduced Erwin to a pint of Guinness.  Conversing in different languages always gets better with alcohol as it relaxes people!

The TV in the house has no English channels at all. My favourite programmes are in the morning before I go to school - kids TV, especially 'Bob le Constructor' (Bob the Builder)as I can understand it. I know what it's like for those children from foreign countries who came into my class with no English at all, or those children with special needs who can't read/write/understand properly. When someone speaks to me really quickly in Spanish, I stand there trying to pick up some words I know, look of confusion in my eyes, frozen in a trance like a complete dope. When they speak slowly I can understand them. I've got 120 days stamped on my passport for Peru, so by the end of that hopefully my Spanglish will turn into proper Spanish.

Cusco's weather is weird at the minute. The rainy season has finished, so sometimes it feels like being back in Thailand during the day (ok, not quite as hot but around 28 degrees)and the North Pole at night and in the early mornings. In one day I managed to get sunburnt (blisters on my lips and a peeling red face) and then at night wrapping myself up in hoodies, tracksuit bottoms, hat, extra 'frazadas' and two pairs of socks. It's baltic and there is no such thing as central heating systems in any of the houses/buildings here.

Cusco is 11 156 ft above sea level and people can experience a bit of altitude sickness when they arrive. Breathing is normally fine, but there are times when you could be walking up the street/lying sleeping in your bed when suddenly you start to gasp for breath. It's a bit like sticking your head out of a car window and opening your mouth and letting the wind catch your breath. The pollution doesn't help either. Every morning, so far without fail, my right eye (that took a  paper cut to it last year in school) constantly weeps and is really sore, so sitting in class is slightly embarrassing as I can't keep it open. Any bottles of cream/anything with a lid expands (in fact, everything seems to expand at high altitude) and when you go to open it, it squirts out liquid. Training at high altitude is apparently the way to go to increase your fitness levels, so am giving myself to the weekend to acclimatise before I start running and spinning again. Have only managed to talk one friend into spin classes next week - the others would rather pull pins out of their toe-nails. Tomorrow is the weekend and a few of us are going to try out some salsa or maybe just watch the Latinos and see how it´s done properly - should be fun.

Cusco hasn't changed that much. Still the same busy place as always with lots of tourists around, either getting ready to go to Machu Picchu or just coming back from it and viewing all the historical sights around the city. Lots of fiestas are still going on every weekend, vendors selling everthing, lots of streets near where I live are being dug up and new paving stones being put down (sometimes you'd think a child paved the streets as some of the re-paving looks like they have just been thrown down in no order at all), people being squashed in combis on their way to work/school; chorlitas (who could do with a good bra fitting - hard to tell if their stomachs are their boobs and vice-versa) smiling with their tooth-less smiles shouting 'Pase, pase' (come in, come in); taxi drivers beeping at you to let you know they are available. The taxis would crumple in an accident - the metal on the doors are so thin you could use a tin-opener to cut through them.

Forgot about the wee security guard that goes around the streets/passages where I live; whistle in his mouth, blowing as hard as he can to let you know he's around. Not good when you're lying in bed sleeping and his whistle goes off at stupid o'clock giving you near heart failure. To enter the main house, there are 3 doors to unbolt and unlock first. In our house, there's a small whistle attached to the inside of the first door. If someone tries to break and enter into the house this little black whistle will apparently save our lives (?) No such thing as: a) defending yourself; b) calling the Police; c) getting the hell out of there. Oh, no - we've to blow this whistle as hard as we can and if we do this, the nice security guard will come and save the day. Only in Cusco. That's why I love it so much here - completely random!

Ding-dong...Round 2

The last paragraph of my previous blog was a little white lie. Most of you now know that I didn't actually go to Laos. I did, infact go back to Downpatrick for a surprise visit home.  The only person who knew about this was my sister, Donna.

I'd had it planned since I booked my return trip to South America as my flight leaves from Heathrow. My RTW flight ended in London, so I thought it would be a good idea to call home for a while. One of the main reasons to go home was to stand as a God-parent for my lovely niece Grace, who was 2 weeks old the last time I saw her. Now she is 10 months old and is just adorable.  Mind you, she nearly missed out on her big day. I jumped into my sister's car and advised them of a short-cut to get to the church (which is in the arse hole of nowhere here in a place called Ballycruttle) as I drove past the road everyday to get to work. We got lost and just about made it in time (speed restrictions were broken, as were several near accidents on windy, county roads). I could've sworn I knew the direction of the place. Now, I'm getting all sorts of abuse from my sister and her partner and various family members that go like: "Here's the girl that travels all over the world and doesn't get lost; then she comes home and can't find a place 5 miles away from her own house" - new nickname 'Sat-Nav' (cheers Gary)

The last 2 weeks have been so busy seeing friends, family, relations, colleagues and the school children again. It has been great seeing everyone and catching up. It feels like the last 10 months of travelling didn't actually happen - like a dream within a dream. After a few sleepless nights deliberating over what I should do, I decided to take an extension to my career break from teaching for another year.  The school has been very supportive, so hopefully my job will be there when I return next year.

So, yeah, I've got another year and lots of people are asking what I will do. Last year, I was very organised and knew when and where I would be at certain points of the year. Now, I don't have a clue. Well, technically, the first 6 weeks are planned. I know I'll definitely be learning Spanish back in Cusco. This time next week, I will have no doubt, failed my Spanish 'induction' test again (like I did the last time) as I've forgotten most of the stuff I learnt back in October of last year and will be back in the dopey beginners class again.  Hopefully this time, I'll understand a little bit more than being able to write my name and the date on the exam paper.

In fact, I'm so disorganised, I haven't been able to sort out how exactly I'm getting from Lima to Cusco (which takes 22 hours on a bus). Flights are way too expensive, as most internal flights are in South America, so that is out the window completely. Some famous person once quoted that: 'A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving' - I'll agree to that for now (?)

I really want to learn Spanish properly and I want to be able to work with the children over there and actually converse with them by stringing a few sentences together. I have been in contact with a volunteer organisation that is based 30kms outside Cusco, high in the mountains of the stunning Sacred Valley, in a place called Huambutio.

Unlike other 'volunteering', this place doesn't charge you hundreds of pounds to actually help them, or where the money you give them tends to line the pockets of the fat-cat directors. All they ask for is 20 Soles a day (£4). This will house and feed myelf and will also help towards the running costs of the scheme/workshops. They need volunteers and teachers for remedial education programmes.  Obviously, I hope to teach but also help with environmental awareness, reforestation and improve houses by re-building them (that should be fun as the only house I've ever built was with Lego blocks as a child).  The area is very poor. Children and families have a poor quality of life. Some residents live in areas of social unrest where services have been neglected by the local municipality.

One of my friends who I met travelling the last time I was in Peru, (Grainne - the one who had the hair disaster with me) is also travelling over to South America. She'll be working in Arequipa for 4 weeks and will make her way up to Cusco when I finish my Spanish lessons.  I'm looking forward to catching up with her and she's up for volunteering and joining me travelling for a couple of months around South America, which will be great.

She did, however, say that she has a contact near Lima that could give us some work teaching there.  Get this: it's a priest who says that we can help teach/volunteer with the children - sounds great. Our accommodation?? - a convent. Seriously, what is it with me gettting stuck in convents in South America (this will be the third time if it occurs, the last 2 occasions I managed to get locked in with another girl on some random tour of a city).  Sister Grainne and Sister Mary - has a nice ring to it...not.  Not sure if we'll deifinitely do this, but stranger things have happened.

I am looking forward to my round 2 of travelling, especially going back to Cusco and Peru.  When will I be back home?? The answer to that will be: when my money runs out/when I've had enough of moving around and living out of a bag. I can't see myself lasting a full year with my budget (unless I find paid work somewhere) as I won't be getting my teaching job back until September 2013. But, for now I'm quite happy to continue on with my little adventures.

However,  I will be up for ALL offers of employment of doing absolutely anything when I return home.

Grace on her big day

Godmother and Godfather Decky

Grace, Carla, Niamh, Daniel & Stephen

Jammin session with Leona

with Regina, on one of my many nights out