Thurs 25th Dec: Christmas Day in Huaraz

A lazy day today. The 25th isn´t as significant here. Its a public holiday but last night held the real festivities. It was very quiet early on, nothing was open down town. Families strolled around quiet streets. I lazed around the hostel for a while reading. There´s a single P.C. in the hostel and a had to wait for over two hours while a Swiss couple mucked about. Eventually I had to ask them how long more they were going to be as it was well into the evening at home by now. So with a touch of temper I phoned home to find it was engaged. When I did get through a Belgian girl came and interrupted me while I spoke to Gabe to ask me to finish up as she had arranged with her family she´d phone home at this time. I told her I´d just spent nearly two and a half hours waiting to make this call. But she was adamant she had to phone home. I let her on to make her call to which there was no reply. My temper was up now. She did thank me as she left but you could say the look from me was frosty, a bit unfestive of me but she crossed me at the wrong moment. She made a hasty exit.

In the afternoon I went out to look around. The weather has improved today, no rain like the last few days. I intended hiking up to a viewing point on a hill overlooking the city but my hip was playing up. For the last couple of days it has become increasingly stiff and sore. This morning I spent an hour doing exercises to try ease the stiffness but after half an hour walking through the streets I decided to take a taxi up to the top as it was too uncomfortable to walk. I feel as if I´m beginning to fall apart slightly at the moment with all the aches, pains and sickness. The road up to the viewing point was so bad I felt a bit guilty asking the taxi man to drive up there. At one point I honestly thought the car wouldn´t make it began down in one piece. The road was that bad.

In the evening the town opened up again. Street traders reappered on the main avenue. Internet cafes, some restaurants and pharamacies in particular were all open. Lots of people came down to stroll around town. In the main plaza parents brought their kids to look at the crib there and let them play with some of their new toys. Street vendors began to do some business. It was starting to feel like a regular evening.

Tomorrow I head into the high mountains of the Cordillera Blanca. I will meet a guide at 6am so I have to be up early. I´m a bit concerned about my hip. If its as sore as it was today I´ll be in trouble. As I have an early start tomorrow I go to bed early. It seems to be a quiet day all round really.

Wed 24th Dec: Christmas Eve Pt2: Huaraz

Back in Huaraz I decided to go to mass tonight. Evening mass was at 8pm and this is the big Christmas mass here. Christmas is celebrated on the night of the 24th here rather than on the 25th with us. We always tend to go together as a family at home so I thought it only appropriate to go while I was away. I was also curios to see how mass is celebrated here. After a quick wash and shave I ran around town and ended up in Iglesia San Francisco. Due to my detour I arrived a little late. Mass was already under way.

The church was full. A large crowd had congregated at the back just inside the main entrance. Pepole were standing up along both side aisles and through the centre aisle. I moved through the crowd to stand just at the back of those seated. There was a choir, 4 altarboys, 2 priests celebrated mass. Eventhough the mass was in spanish it took the same format as home so it was easy to follow. It was a lot slower than at home though. This mass would run to 2hrs. A group of dogs wandered in during the gospel and made for the altar. It was a pity one of them was in heat. They were ejected unceremoniously to muffled laughter from those near the door. One small dog lingered around until the sermon was about to begin, obviously looking for its owner who must have been in the congregation but who declined to reveal himself. The priest, preparing himself for the sermon, was singularly unimpressed by the distraction and asked for the dog to be removed. Three women rushed out of the front seats to confront the wee dog who, naturally, began to dodge them. One of the women aimed a kick at him and missed again, bringing out laughter from the crowd at the back. As the women retreated a young fella ran out from a pew, picked up the dog and carried him out.

With all distractions removed the priest proceeded with his sermon. He approached the podium confidently with a hint of a swagger. He flicked his hair dramatically and began. The sermon was tame enough to begin with but soon the priest warmed to his subject. His voice rose, his expression became more intense. Soon his hands were raised, gesturing and pointing to the heavens. The whole tempo of the sermon rose. The congregation was swept along by the fervent ardour of their pastor. This priest was taking on the demeanor of a baptist minister Any moment I expected him to shout out "Halleluja brothers and sisters. Come on down bretheren. Everybody in the house come on an´let me hear ya say A-men.

Ironically in the middle of this I began to feel a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach, this quickly spread through my arms to my finger tips. I began to feel faint, not, unfortunately because of the zeal of the sermon, but because I was badly dehydrated. I d hardly drunk or eaten much throughout the day. I had to leave the church for a few minutes or I would have collapsed. I sat down on the steps of the doorway, held my head in my hands and breathed in deeply. In the cool fresh air I began to feel better. After a few minutes I was able to return to the back of the church where I stayed for the remainder. The sermon was over, a small blessing because it was going on and on.

Mass proceeded without further mishap but when it came to the "peace be with you" section I turned to shake hands with the person next to mewho promptly turned and embraced me. I then had to hug all around me. Just before communion there was an adoration of the child jesuswhere everybody went up and kissed the baby s feet. At the conclusion of the mass I made for the exit. Along the way three-four people came over and shook my hand wishing me "Feliz Navidad" which was quite nice.

Back in the hostel the Christmas celebrations were in full swing. Shortly after I got back the kids were given their presents so there was a good deal of excitement. I made myself a big mug of sweet tea and sipped it gratefully as I watched the kids gleefully show their toys to the whole family. When the excitement died down dinner was served and wasn{t I glad!! The family occupied the main dining table while those of us guests presents (there were 4 of us) were invited to have some dinner in the lounge area of the same room. It was very nice of the family and they continued with their meal as if we weren{t there at all. It was good to see christmas in a family situation here. Dinner consisted of turkey and a potatoe/apple puree which was actually delicious. Dessert consisted of hot chocolate and Paneton (a light fruit cake). Outside fireworks and bangers were being set off in the streets. These impromptu fireworks reached a climax at midnight with a mass of explosions to mark the hour. Shortly afterwards I went to bed. I was still feeling a bit lightheaded after nearly fainting earlier.

Dec 24th: Christams Eve Pt 1: Chavin de Huantar

Today I head in to the mountains to se an ancient site at Chavin approx 120km from Huaraz. To be honest I´m not fully sure what I´m actually going to see but people have said its impressive and it will be nice to go acroos the mountains. I turn up for 9am, the appointed time but end up hanging around for an hour waiting to leave. It turns out I´m the only person on board. Its a nice sunny morning as we head out of Huaraz. On the outskirts of the town we pick up a woman and her daughter. They would stay with us for the rest of the day, the lady acting as conductor later on.

We passed through acouple of small towns before getting into the high country. A couple of lads took a ride getting off along the roadside and heading towards a small cottage across a few fields. The day which had started out nice was now clouding over. We followed a valley into the high mountains. Heavy cloud was descending from the tops of the mountains as the bus slowly wound it way upwards. At 4,600m we passed through a tunnel for a short distance which brought us to the head of a neighbouring valley. As we emerged a large statue of Jeseus greeted us. Beyond the statue the valley fell away. The bus began a long descent to Chavin. THe quality of the road and the frequent switchbacks kept the speed low.

One valley led into another and once again we were perched high on a mountainside looking down into a valley bottom far below. The mountainside here consisted of soft brittle rock which was crumbling away. Rocks and boulders littered the road. Some of the boulders were large, the siz of a small car. Occasionally we encountered the remains of rockslides. One recent slide still blocked most of the road. A narrow passage had been cleared just wide enough to allow the bus to pass through. For another hour we passed down through this valley. Along the mountainside small seams of coal were visible in many places. Galleries had been cut into these seams by the roadside to extract the coal. Small caves showed where the seams had been exhausted. Others were larger their chambers disappearing into the darkness of the mountain. A few were still active Scaffolding had been erected to give access to seams high up. Wooden supprts were wedged into the clefts in the rock to prevent collapse. Black coal dust littred the slopes.

In the rain we passed some small settlements. It was very different up here. The houses were made from adobe bricks and mud plaster. Some were painted but most retained their natural colour. Ancient women in traditional dress sat outside their cottages either on small chairs or on their haunches. Small kids walked along the roadside carrying freshly cut reeds. One lad sat on top of a wall tuning in a hand held radio while nearby a man slept, hunched up hidden under a poncho and wide-brimmed hat. On the far side of the valley small fields extended high up the mountain slopes. Terracing supported the fields where the mountainside became too steep. We got to Chavin and the driver dropped me off at the archaeological complex. I had an hour and 20 mins before meeting up down in the main square.

At first glance the site didn{t appear to be much at all but following a pathway I was led around to an impressive plaza and temple complex. This temple was over 3,000 yrs old and in a country where everything is portrayed as Inca this, Inca that everything else can appear to be sooooo yesterday!! This was impressive Its age showed there was so much going on in Peru and in this valley in particular millenia before the Incas carved their empire. The most impressive part of the temple was its underground passages and corridors which riddled the interior of the temple. I stayed here for as long as possible before dashing down to the plaza to meet the bus.

Chavin is a small rural town so there was no difficulty in finding the plaza. I met the driver and he told me to hang on for another 30 mins and look around town. He was doing a nixer and acting as a collectivo for the return journey to Huaraz. He had a bus to fill to pay for all that petrol he was using climbing up and down those high mountains. I went off bought a bag of buns, a bannana and a bottle of water from and old woman at a street stall and had a look around. There was a decent crowd in town. All in for the christmas rush. One lad passed by me with a load of shopping strapped to his back walking out of town. Many young girls in traditionalt dress were in town. Their hats were immaculate. Some of the girls had clear plastic wrapped around them to protect the hat from the rain. Old ladies an old men congregated near to where the collectivos were chatting and laughing, all seemingly in good spirits given the occasion that was in it. As the collectivos filled up they left town, the conductor shouting over the crowd, hoping to get one more body into an already full minivan.

Despite all the hustle and bustle about town there was no sense of rush or impatience amongst the people. They did what they had to do in town. If they had to wait around then the did so chatting to friends and neighbours who were also waiting. It was funny though to see the contrasts that have been developing in Peruvian life. There were many in traditional dress, many in modern clothes. A couple of lads sauntered around looking like gangster rappers with baseball caps, chains and white tracsuits. One guy wore a green acrylic jumper over a shirt with flared collars and flared trousers. He looked like he d just dropped out of the sixties. People were carrying their goods on their backs, others took taxis. One old man blocked the traffic on the street out of town as he rode his donkey, loaded with groceries, up the middle of the street. It was fascinating to watch. I wondered if rural Ireland looked like this 40yrs ago. There seemed to be a different sense of time here. You could almost see it in the way people looked. It was more distant. People here didn t seem to be tied down with schedules, timetables or deadlines. There just didn{t seem to be the urgency you get in the big cities.

It began to rain again. I made my way back onto the bus. Chavin has a very pretty plaza but little else so I d seen all I wanted to. I stayed on the bus until it had filled. The driver shouted out we were leaving and as nobody else boarded we left. Out of town the driver fairly hit the accelerator and we took off up the road. Whereas the journey up to Chavin had been a jolly spin into the country. The return leg was a mad dash home. There were other buses on the road and judgin by their attitude towards our driver they weren t happy with him poaching passengers.

As the rain increased and the gloom descended we backtracked through the mountains. Four times we were stopped by traffic cops who gave the driver grief. Perhaps what the driver was doing wasn t wholly legal but each time he seemed to be able to talk his way out with merely a reprimand. By hook or by crook we got back to Huaraz by 7pm. It was dark now and the town was absolutley thronged with shoppers. It was jammed, uncomfortable to walk up the main street. Amongst the crowds a blind female busker sang into a small portable microphone. Judging by the amount of change in her box she was doing very well. The town was too busy for me. I went back to the hostel.

Tues 23rd Dec Huaraz

The bus arrives in Huaraz early, around 7am. Its raining as the bus manouvres through the streets. At first glance Huaraz doesn t look the most attractive of towns but it is a dark, wet overcast morning. Leaving the bus depot I m greeted by the now usual choir of taxi men singing "Taxi, taxi, taxi....." I stand in the middle of a bunch of short peruvian tenors and smile as they serenade. I spot a taxi approaching in the street. I go over to him and he whisks me away as the taxi singers, huddled together, click their fingers and complete a soulful chorus. "........and darlin, Da-rlin stand.....by me......" drifts in to the background as we turn a corner. Two minutes later we arrive at Alojamiento Soledad, a family run guesthouse/hostel. I get a room for 35 Soles and heads to bed. I sleep for the next 6 hrs.

I get up at lunchtime and go out for a look around town. Its still overcast and wet. Huaraz is a decent sized city up beside Cordilleras Blancas. It sits in a valley at around 3,000m. Its a busy market town for the mountain region with plenty of smaller towns scattered around the area. There s a population of around 40,000. The air is a lot cooler and fresher here after the congestion of Lima. I get a breakfast in an american owned cafe and have a look in the centre. The town is compact it only takes a few minutes to reach the main centre around its plaza. Its busy with christmas shoppers. I find out about a ruined temple at a town called Chavin 120km away across the mountains and sign up for a tour tomorrow morning. The guy I talk to outlines mountain treks that are run from here. Loads of companies run them but its off season now with it being the rainy season. Im not really interested in a 4-day trek. Not with being dosed with the flu and also I don t fancy the kind of weather we seem to be having at the moment. As I wander around plenty of reps come up offereing treks and tours. Non Gracias.

I buy some tablets for the flu in a pharmacy. The girl behind the counter offers me ant-hystamines which I refused. I had explained the symptoms correctly so eventhough I accepted the second batch of tablets from her I m not holding out much hope for them. Town was busy with the Christmas rush. There s not a whole lot to see in Huaraz so I didn t have to spend too long wandering around. It was interesting to see the mix of people milling about. Some in traditional dress others very modern, people sitting beside there wares under colonnaded walkways on either side of the main street. Amidst all this on the street taxis and cars whizzed up and down beeping, swerving to avoid each other and pedestrans. On one street corner an old guy was selling young pups, some of the cutest I ve seen and a large crowd had congregated as a mother haggled for a price and a child tried to decide which pup to take home for Christmas.

As darkness fell on a damp evening I d seen enough. I bought some groceries, brought them back to the hostel and ate. I went to bed hoping the flu would lift for tomorrow.

Monday 22nd Dec; Meet the Fokkers

I wake up feeling rotten. I have to check out of the room at 11am but I don t fancy being on the streets all day until 10pm when the bus to Huaraz leaves. I decide to pay for an extra night and it means I can stay in bed until the evening.

I read and doze. I picked up Robert Harris latest novel, The Ghost in a book exchange in Cusco and I begin to fly through it as I turn the pages, lost in the story. Sometime towards midday I m shaken from the world of Robert Harris novel back to the present as the sounds of a couple in the room above...... ¨being very noisy¨. The noise they make seeps into my room and begins to fill it. In fact their noises are seeping into virtually every room in the hostel, moaning and groaning, moaning and.....groaning. The hostel has three floors and all the rooms face out on to the same side of the building. Each room has an open wooden grille running along the top of the room over the door and window. Sounds move in and out of these room very easily.

This noise continues off and on all day. It becomes irritating then annoying. Everybody can hear it. There are families staying here staying semi long term. There are children and old people as well as backpackers. This couple make the place sounds as if its a brothel. 3 times people go and tell them to be quiet but its as if they want everyone to hear them. It was bordering on public disorder. It was ridiculous, ignorant. It turns out they re French.

In between times I manage to finish the ghost. In the evening I take a taxi out to the Cruz del Sur depot and board the bus to Huaraz.

Sunday Dec 21st: To Lima

As dawn broke we had come through the mountains and were on the outskirts of the town of Nazca, famous for the Nazca lines. We were low down on the coastal plain now which we would follow for the next few hours up to Lima. This was mostly barren flat desert interspersed here and there with pockets of fertile valleys. In the desert we passed through a few strange looking settlements, shacks scattered across the sands. There were no paved streets, no cars, no lighting. They looked deserted but here and there a person appeared wandering between shacks.

Everything had calmed down on the bus after last nights shenanigans. At one point I went to the toilet and passed the lady and toddlers who had kept us all awake. One glance at the kids was enough to make you forget they had ever annoyed you. They were the cutest wee things playing together and giggling away. Two little girls with lovely brown skin, dark eyes and long black hair. You wanted to pick them up and cuddle them. Little feckers!! Eventually we hit the outskirts of Lima and in good time we hit the Cruz del Sur terminal. Bus terminals can be a confusing business in Peru. There is usually no single central bus station in a town. There can be many. Each bus company might have its own depot. On this occasion in Lima I discovered even Cruz del Sur has more than one depot and I wasn t at the one I thought I was. However I got sorted and a taxi brought me to the hostel I had picked out in the centre of town. It ws a secure looking hostel in what is supposed to be a rought part of town. I m only in town for a day so I reckoned I d be ok.

I need to sort out a plan for the remainder of my time in South America. I intended being in cuador for Christmas but loking at what I want to do with the time I have left it doesn{t look feasible. I realise I ll have to drop Ecuador and head for northern Peru instead. I should have enough time then to do what I d like to do.

I go out to look at Central Lima and buy a ticket for tomorrow to Chiclayo on the northern coast. From there I want to go to Chachapoyas and be there for Christmas. At the station I m told all buses to Chiclayo are booked up until after christmas. Immediately my plan has to change. There are buses to Huaraz which is up in the mountains, 10 hrs north of Lima. There are seats available so thats where I m going to be for Christmas. Tomorrows bus leaves at 10pm so I{ll have an extra day around Lima.

As I wander round Lima I m approached by loads hawkers selling computer software, knick knacks, shoe shiners, kids selling sweets. The centre is very busy, crammed full of people, shopping, buying stuff, selling stuff, strolling around. Between Plaza San Martin and Plaza Mayor is a pedestrian street something like Grafton street. Its packed with people, uncomfortably so, and again people are continually approaching me offering this or that. I m tired after the bus journey and getting fed up with the hawkers. You try to be polite but eventually your patience wears thin. Its been like this in all the big towns since I came into Peru.

In the PLaza Mayor some sort of event is going on. There s a stage with musicians performing for a sizeable audience in the square. There s a large police presence here. Riot police stand around as well as regular uniformed police. It feels uncomfortable so I leave the Plaza. In a nearby street a religious procession is taking place. A statue of our Lady on a large platform is being carried by 16 men neatly dressed in fine suits. Accompanying them is a brass band playing sombre latin music. In front of these is a group of samba drummers and dancers dressed up with faces blackened. Its an unusual looking accompaniment to such a formal religious procession.

I have a flu coming on. I can feel it in my head and in my breath which feels unnaturally hot. Im tired and impatient. I decide to return to the hostel and head back the way I came, back through the crowds. The hawkers gather again and swoop. I m really resenting them now. An old, stooped, shoe shiner approaches me as I wait to cross a street. He s wearing a grey jumper and ragged brown trousers, stained and 2 sizes too big for him. His shoes are worn but shiny. He offers to clean my runners and despite saying Non Gracias twice he persists, a little too much. I turn to him and say angrily Bastante, Enough!! I emphasize this with a slashing gesture. The old man retreats a step, apologises and shuffles away. Immediately I feel bad at my outburst. After all the old guy was only trying to earn a little money. A few minutes later I try to ease my conscience by giving a young lad whose selling sweets some soles.

I return to the hostel quickly and lie down. In the evening I go out and eat in a nearby seafood restaurant, a cevicheria. Afterwards I don t linger about and I m back in the room early. I read a little and try to sleep but its not easy as I m all bunged up and hot with this flu that now taking a grip.

Sat 20th Dec; The problem with overnight buses

I woke at 6am to rain. It continued to rain until lunchtime. I had a quick last look around Cusco before getting the bus to Lima at 2pm. This is another long stretch of a journey, 21hrs. As I left the hostal the two girls who work there, Sonia and Rosio, had a big goodbye for me. Earlier, Sonia had asked if I would bring her to Ireland. I didn´t understand and it had to be translated for me. I replied diplomatically "Next time".

Leaving Cusco the bus took the road to Abancay which meant we would be cutting straight through the mountains to the coast. This is reputed to be a spectacularly scenic though unreliable route in the wet season due to landslides. For 4 hours we climb slowly into the mountains and the route becomes increasingly spectacular. We pass a couple of small,poor looking mountain villages. These are agricultural communities and, judging by the large groups of people out tending to the crops together, it must be a communal effort. The ground appears very fertile here as all kinds of animals can be seen grazing here. cows, goats, sheep, pigs etc. It seems the younger kids and older women tend to the animals while the adults work on the crops.

By 6pm we cross a high mountain pass. Down in the valley below lies Abancay. It takes us nearly 40 mins to descend the mountain as the road switches over and back constantly. The bus is still in bright sunshine but down in the valley Abancay is in a twilight with darkness about to descend. We reach the town in darkness and stop for 20 mins before continuing.

The curtains were pulled shut onthe windows for the night. We had dinner and afterwards the hostess handed out bingo cards for the now customary game after-dinner game of bingo. Later after the last film on tv had ended the lights were dimmed and everybody tried to get some sleep. I had difficulty getting to sleep. I was sneezing. I could feel a flu coming on. I managed to doze for a bit but the bus was back crossing some more high mountains so it was constantly twisting and turning through bends. If you got comfortable you were soon shook out of that position and had to shift again to get comfortable.

Two small children were travelling their mother and sitting a few rows back. At some point the kids began to cry. After a few minutes they were settled but soon the wailing began again. This continued off and one for a couple of hours. Initially there was sympathy for the mother but this gradually dripped away as she failed to settle the children. She hadn´t brought any drinks for them and other passengers had to give bottles of water to help. The mood changed from one of discomfort to frustration, to torture. As the toddlers kept a running commentary amidst their cries open revolt broke out as passengers complained loudly and mutter angrily. The hostess could be heard softly asking the mother to try to keep the kids under control. The mother began to cover the toddlers mouths toshut them up but this only made it worse. In the confined space of the upper deck of this double decker everybody was awake...... except for the old guy next to me.

Two mothers went downto help out. One of them must have had something which they gave to the kids and miraculously the settleddown a few minutes later. At around about this time the old guy next to me began to snore. We had just been tortured for the last 3 hours by young kids. I was not going to tolerate this not from the old guy next to me.

With my temper rising I sat as he snored into my ear. I tensed up as each snore rattled through me. I decided to hit him with my shoulder to see if a jolt would cause him to shift position and stop. I hit him gently at first, almost politely, but he didn´t stir from his slumbers. Each time he failed to respond I hit him a little harder, and a little harder until I was rocking over and back hitting into him. But this did no good, it was ridiculous. My frustrations piqued by his ability to sleep through almost anything. I began to wonder if I should punch him instead. I closed my eyes and wondered if I should, weighing upthe possibilities.

Once again the old guys head lolled onto my shoulder. Snoring loudly, his mouth open and saliva dripping out one side. I punched the guy on the shoulder. The old procedure now repeated itself with punches. Still no response. My temper was at boiling point now. What did I have to do to make this guy stop snoring?? I was almost shaking with temper when once again he gave out a deep rasping snore. That was it. I´d had enough. I snapped. I hit him. My fist shot out sideways catching him on the jaw with all my strength. The bus shuddered, I jolted with shock. I couldn´t believe what I´d just done. I opened my eyes wide. I looked across at the old guy. He was still sleeping peacefully....and quietly. I´d been dreaming?? Thank God. I had been dreaming. Relaxing, I smiled at the vivid dream I´djust had. Just then the old guy opened his eyes looked at me and saw me looking at him smiling. He looked surprised then frowned, quickly turned his head and leant away from me, crossing his arms defensively. My smile froze. Dumbstruck at what had just passed. I thought to myself "I bet he thinks I´m a pervert". Cringing with embarassment I twisted in my seat to look out the window. I definitely couldn´t sleep now.