10th – 14th July 2007

We left Ica for a mammoth bus journey to Hurraz in the North of Peru, or as the locals would say “wurraz”. The journey entailed an all dayer on a bus from Ica to Lima (8 hours) to get a connecting bus from Lima at 10:00 pm for an all nighter to Hurraz. Surprisingly enough when we got to the other end we were pretty shagged, just what you need for your second bout of altitude. The bus actually wasn’t too bad. We got pretty good food, watched lots of Hollywood films in English and even had a game of bingo with everybody involved on the bus, which helped us with our Spanish numbers. We could have stopped over in Lima to break the journey, but after the bad reports we had from everybody about the place we decided it would be better to endure 24 hours or more on a bus. These reports were confirmed as we drove into the bus station and Sal spied what looked like a couple of blatant hookers stood on the corner of the station, ready to pounce on the latest gringo in town. We arrived in Hurraz and found the most fantastic place to stay in ever – Olazas B & B. The only draw back was we had to hang around for about 4 hours until we could get in our room. This place was like a palace, the room was massive with a little area with a table complete with a vase of lilies and most importantly of all, not warm but boiling hot water 24 hours a day! There was a roof top terrace which had the best views in town, breakfast was served here and you could munch on your bread and jam surrounded by some of the highest snow capped mountains in Peru. This was a fantastic sight to wake up to in the morning, we soon found out that it was brilliant blue skies and sunshine everyday in Hurraz. Inside on the top floor was an amazing funky looking lounge with swanky sofas, free internet, a stereo playing cool tunes 24/7 and a massive open fire place. We were lucky to get into Hurraz when we did, as the next day all of the roads were blockaded and locals striked for the next 2 days, parading the streets with banners, burning tires and throwing stones at any cars attempting to move out of town. It was a pretty awesome sight if a little scary at times with the lines of riot police surrounding the streets, they were kitted out for business. Because nobody was coming in or out of Hurraz the owner of the hostel Tito Olaza threw a little drinks party for us, the eight of us who were staying sat around the open fire and swapped travel stories while Tito dished up the local drink Pisco Sour, a spirit mixed with egg whites, sugar, milk and a few other things. Tasted a bit like Lemon Meringue with a huge kick. We spent the night talking to a really nice French Canadian couple from Quebec, who were both very positive people in a very hippy tree hugging way and we thought they were great. That day to acclimatize we walked up to a hill backing onto town with a huge cross on the peak. The walk up was quite hot and tiring and uneventful. The walk back down was a little more interesting as we decided to go cross country following old goat herding paths, we ended up in a few back yards and fields, expecting to see shotguns pointed at us. Luckily we got through them unscathed. Unfortunately whether it was due to the Pisco Sours or the walk Sal spent the night on the toilet and the following day pretty ill. Glen was feeling quite smug at this point and claimed it couldn’t possibly be altitude related. However the next day after we went mountain biking (starting at 4000 metres) he was as sick as a dog and eating his words. The mountain biking trip was fantastic. We jacked up a tour with Titos older brother who appeared to be the mountain bike expert in Hurraz, we had come to realize that the whole family pretty much ran Hurraz, and were all local entrepreneurs, 7 of them in total all owning various restaurants and businesses in town. We got transport up to the top of a mountain (the strikes had finished by now) of 4000 metres and then descended for about 4 hours back down into Hurraz. We passed through lots of small villages and farms and got chased by hundreds of dogs. Titos brother was amazing and really helped us with our technique, telling us how to use the bikes and brakes properly. Sal got reprimanded for going to fast and had to stay back with Titos brother as she did not have enough experience, Glen however was allowed to motor on in front. We think this was a ploy for him to get Sal on her own, he seemed quite a ladies man and interested in her claves as he rode behind her eyeing them up. The day was bloody amazing and we have both vowed to buy some good mountain bikes when we get home (providing we find some jobs, other than busking on the corner of Salisbury high street with South American panpipes and a digerido). The next few days Glen was really ill so we didn’t really get up to much more. But still Hurraz was such a lovely place we were quite happy just to chill in the nice B & B and eat lots of good food in the restaurants. Glen really couldn’t hope to be puking his guts up in a much nicer place!