Mike here.

Time for a quick update as we are disappearing for nine days to Manu National Park in the Peruvian Amazon in the wee hours of tomorrow morning. Since La Paz we've been over to Lake Titicaca and up to Cusco, Peru.

From La Paz we headed to the little town of Copacbana on the Bolivian shores of Titicaca. Gemma and Guinny were a day ahead and headed out to Isla del Sol, the island in the middle of the Lake which was once a major seat of Inca power. Today there's still a heap of ruins complete with stone blocks used for sacrificing virgins for the gods and rocks that apparently radiate 'Inca energy' (or so they tell us tourists). Judging by the shade of pink the girls were on their return from Isla del Sol they probably spent most of their time lying in the sun, talking about boys and drinking cocktails. Possibly.

Clemens and I bused over the day after our death ride and were adopted by a Bolivian family also going to Copacabana. Elmar, his partner Patricia and daughter Andrea were from Cochabamba in the middle of Bolivia but had spent 10 years living in the USA and spoke English well. We ended up booking into the same hostel as them, heading out to Isla del Sol for the day together and eating all sorts of Bolivian dishes with them. Was really good to be have someone that we could ask all our questions about Bolivia and who could advise us on everything from what the tastiest food to eat from the markets to the best way to improve our Spanish (''find yourself a long-haired dictionary''). Made a good change from travelling around a country being largely oblivious to what is going on because you don't speak the language and even basic communication is hard. Our last day in Copacabana we walked 20kms out the the tip of the peninsula through sleepy villages and along the lakeshore. At the end of the road we were almost convinced by a entrepreneurial local that we needed to pay 80 Bolivianos for the ride back to town before finding out that everyone else was paying five. That evening (with our own pink glow from a day in the Bolivian sun) we were reunited with the girls and booked bus tickets to Puno, Peru, home of the famous Uros floating reed island villages.

Bused to Puno the next morning, passing through Bolivian and Peruvian immigration without a hitch despite all the warnings in the guidebooks about foreigners being asked to pay all sorts of addtional ''fees'' to officials on the border. Puno was a functional sort of a town with nothing really to keep you there apart from a visit to the floating islands. Fine by us, we had it all planned see the islands and continue to Cusco the next morning (or so we thought). The floating islands were interesting enough to see, huge blocks of reed roots that are cut up dragged multiple kilometers across the lake, anchored to the lake bed and then have entire villages constructed upon them. Having become such a attraction for tourists, village life seemingly revolved around the arrival of the next tour boat. After being shown the village and taken into the somebodies house we were then met with some pretty full on sales pitches to buy various crafty stuff. Wasn't that comfortable after being taken into these peoples homes, but guess they have to make a living somehow. After staying strong against the pull of colourful alpaca and reed based arts and crafts I was powerless to resist the lure of a ride on an authentic reed boat rowed by the island's president whos bed I had been sitting on ten minutes prior. Obviously made of sterner stuff than me, Guinny and Gemma stayed behind, saved themselves 10 Bolivianos, and documented the ride on camera. Just quiety I think they'll regret the missed opportunity, it's not everyday you get the chance to be rowed around in a reed boat by a president.

Solid ground under foot, on our return to Puno we went to the bus station to get a ticket to Cusco. After trying about six offices none of whom had buses going to Cusco the next day it was explained to us that no one was running buses because of general strikes and road blocks through southern Peru that were to continue for the next 48 hours. Apparently a lot of people unhappy here over government plans to sell natural gas to Mexico when there is a shortage for domestic supply. So for us it looked like at least two more days sampling the delights of Puno, which, after one lap of the town center earlier in the afternoon we decided we'd already seen enough of. The joys of travelling I guess.

For a town where apparently not a lot happens Puno managed to provide us with a suprising amount of excitement. Some of it we could definitly have done without.

Good things: A school marching band competition was going on in the main plaza one day. Peruvians seem to take their marching bands very seriously, some impressive marching, music and uniforms. Food. We ate well and cheaply with three course meals and drink for about 7 $NZ. Shoe polish. Maybe a stretch to include this as a redeeming features of Puno but anyway... my only shoes were starting to look a bit rough after being worn all day, everyday so decided to test the skills of one of the numerous shoe shine men who line the streets and plazas of every South American city. This guy was a magician. After about a half hour, a dozen different potions and the applicaiton of a liberal amount of Kiwi shoe polish I stumbled away dazzled by the brilliant shine coming from my now unrecognisable shoes. Shinest shoes I've ever owned and doubt they'll be beaten in the future.

Bad things. We found ourselves being the innocent 'meat in the sandwich' between an irate taxi driver and an even more irate minivan driver. While getting out of our taxi the passing minivan managed to scrap against the open taxi door, nicely scatching and denting the entire side of the van. After much yelling and finger pointing we gathered that the drivers had decided it was our fault and were demanding money. After declining an generous invitation to accompany them to an ATM were they would decide how much we need to pay we managed to borrow a passing french family who spoke a little english and spanish who were able to explain there was no way we were going anywhere. Eventually a Peruvian policeman turned up and after some initial visions of spending the night in a Peruvian jail it became apparent that it was nothing to do with us and we were free to go (''You, no problemo. Them, problemo''). We made ourselves scarce very quickly and spent the next two days avoiding taxis and minivans with dented doors.

The only other notable happening in Puno was Guinny's near death showering experience. Rather than having hotwater cylinders, most of the hostels here have a terrible invention where the showerhead is electrified and the water is heated as it flows through. We had already learnt the hard way to avoid touching the showerhead or even the water close to the showerhead because of the nasty electric shocks they dish out. Guinny's one took it to a whole new level however when it started pouring out sparks, flames and choking black smoke. Another black mark against the town of Puno.

Thankfully managed to get out the next morning on a bus to Cusco, now that the roads were apparently open and travel possible. The five hour trip should have had us there mid afternoon but were starting to realise that you can't rely on schedules too much here. A few hours down the road we came upon a queue of trucks stretching into the distance. Apparently the road block was still in action. After collecting our bags it was explained that we were to continue walking and there would be another bus to meet us on the far side of the road block. A hours walk took us through the enormous queues of trucks, over the (peacefully) barricaded bridge complete with piles of rocks and burning tires to the far side where the waiting bus had room for forty of the sixty passengers. Being seated near the back we apparently missed out on a seat, though a promised minivan did eventually show up and finally we made it to Cusco with only the problem being that our van driver had never been there before, had no idea where the bus terminal was and wasn't going to let us go until he got paid by the bus company. Made for a long day but seems to be the sort of thing that happens here pretty regularly here and everyone takes in their stride.

To finish on a more positive note (we really are having a great time) Cusco is a beautiful old city built upon Inca ruins with clean cobbled streets and fantasitic old buildings. We've had a day here to look around and are headed away tomorrow to spend nine days in Manu National Park checking out the jungle and looking for some sweet sweet Amazonian birds. Gemma has made noises about wanting wrestle either a caiman or a large anaconda.

Doubt there's much in the way of internet out there so we will be dropping off the radar for a bit.

Mike.