The South America Chronicles - Seis

This report comes from a slightly hungover Sam in La Paz. We arrive here yesterday afternoon and one of my first priorities was to make a visit to a hostal-cum-microbrewery - Adventure Brew Hostal. We had already booked to stay somewhere else in La Paz, but I wasn´t going to pass up the opportunity of tasting some (possibly) good beers. And it didn´t disappoint....hence the hangover. They had 3 different beers - a German Kolsch, an English Ale, and a dark bock. The first two were particularly good, so quite a few were imbibed.

We then took a dinner recommendation from the Scottish guy behind the bar - an Argentinean steak house downtown. The taxi ride down there was an event in itself, travelling through rush hour and the throng of the city, with masses of old (American school bus style) Dodge buses in the traffic. We hadn´t seen the hustle and bustle of a real city since we left London. But this seems a good hustle and bustle, lots of people promenading along the wide avenue that goes through the middle of the city. La Paz certainly seems like a cool city, though bizarrely located. It sits in a huge gorge, with steep slopes climbing on either side of the centre of the city. Arriving, looking down at the city below, you can´t help not ask "why the hell did someone decide to place a city here?" It feels like it is one giant arena, with houses stretching up the gorge on either side. A fascinating place.

And the dinner didn´t disappoint either. For 270 Bolivianos (about 20 quid - I know, we splashed out), Anna and I each had a huge cut of absolutely delicious steak (they must have been around 400g each), an excellent 2004 Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon, and all the trimmings (chips, beans, salsa, a huge salad bar). This has certainly set our appetite for Argentina.

After our protein fix, Anna demonstrated her Spanish skills but bargaining UP our return taxi ride from 8 Bolivianos to 10! We then headed back to the microbrewery bar for a couple more drinks, and hence the headache this morning.

This is all after a couple days spent at Copacabana on Lake Titicaca. This was certainly a different place to where we have been before - I likened it to the Riveria of Bolivia. When we arrived on the Sunday, the lakefront was packed with locals who must go there for their day out. Lining the lakefront are many kiosks selling fresh trout, which must go down as some of the best fish we have ever had (Lee - you were right). We also stayed at a little hotel on the corner of the bay, which had great views (Daz/Jess - thanks for the tip). Copacabana had a really bohemian feel to it - and strangely, many European travellers and very few English-speaking tourists. There isn´t a whole lot to do in Copacabana, and we just had a relaxing two days, reading, drinking, and eating a lot of trout. On the second day we did take the boat out to the Isla del Sol - by folklore, the birthplace of the Incas. There wasn´t a lot to see there, but it was a pleasant walk along the ridge of the island, getting the boat back in the afternoon.

I don´t think I would say that Copacabana is a must see on any South America itinerary, but it was a relaxing place to stop off for a couple of days. So relaxing, that it wasn´t until we were just about to leave that we realised we weren´t even on Bolivian time! We were in an internet cafe when we noticed that both the time on the computer and the clock on the wall were an hour fast. And then we realised that they weren´t an hour fast at all, but that Bolivian time must be an hour ahead of Peruvian time - and then it all clicked. It explained why the previous morning our hotel owner told us we had to run for the boat to the Isla del Sol, and that when she was saying "no ocho", she didn´t mean that the boat didn´t leave at 8, but that it wasn´t 8 o´clock. And that when we thought it odd that we had to rush to our boat as it left the Isla del Sol an hour early, that it wasn´t leaving early at all. And when we were in our restaurant that night, that the live music didn´t start an hour early, but was on time as advertised. The fact that we survived with having the wrong time for the two days gives you some idea of how laid back Copocabana is. Though we still felt very stupid, and we were fortunate that we noticed at all that morning, as we would have missed our bus to La Paz.

So now we are in La Paz organising our next few days in Bolivia. Tomorrow we will be biking down the world´s most dangerous road, and then we have a couple of days relaxing down in the Yungas, enjoying a bitof warmth. We are then hoping to do a 3-day boat trip through the jungle up to Rurrenbaque, where we will do an Amazon tour. So lots of adventures over the next week or so - Anna is worried about riding off the edge of the cliff, and I am wanting to avoid the infamous `penis fish`. So I won´t be peeing into any waters....

Beer Scene - Peru

Well fellow ale lovers, I have to report that things on the foamy front have not improved in Peru. The local beers available are again of your standard lager/pilsener type, the only variation on the theme being the ´Malta´version of the dominant Cusquena brand. Unfortunately, this dark beer resembled a cheap cola more than a beer of any note. And then, causing me much distress, the two brewpubs in Cusco that I hoped to visit both appeared to have closed in recent times.

So after collecting just two new ratings in Ecuador, I have only five new ratings to add from Peru - and none of them really of any note, the Cristal being the pick for me but still only scoring a 8/20. I expect Bolivia to be a continuation of the theme. I´m now particularly jealous of those of you still able to get yourself a fresh English pint and already looking forward to my first trip to Galbraiths when back in Auckland.

The South America Chronicles - Cinco

What a day! Had to get up early to take a crappy bus to a crappy Peruvian town. We are in Puno at the moment, a Peruvian city on Lake Titicaca near the Bolivian border. We were hoping to make it all the way through to Copacabana on the Bolivian side, but couldn´t do it, so now we are stuck here for the night. And that was after our "1st class" bus ride from Cusco - which was dirty and stunk of the toilet. Though thankfully the South African couple we met on the bus - who have been travelling for 7 months - told us this was the worst tourist class bus they had been on, so things can only get better.

But how about the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu I am sure you are asking? And if you´re not, you´re gong to hear about it anyway....

Well, we are still in one piece. In fact, it wasn´t nearly the toil that it is made out to be. Instead, it was an awesome four days. It started off getting picked up very early in the morning to get bused off to the start of the trail. We all know that Anna isn´t great in the morning at the best of times, and this early start had her freaking out for the whole bus trip about how she wasn´t going to be able to do it. A thankful distraction was checking out the other 12 trekkers that would be joining us, and in particular, how much gear they were bringing with them. We decided to take the minimalist approach, fitting everything into just a couple of day packs (Jabs - you´d be proud). This was in sharp contrast to some others that nearly required forklifts to get their massive packs onto the bus. The rest of the group might get tired of seeing us in the same clothes day after day, but at least we wouldn´t need to carry a small city up and down the mountains. In the end, we thought we got it about right - OK, we stank at the end of the four days, but we never did work out what some others brought with them, as they stank too.

The trek started fine and clear, something we hoped would continue for the next 4 days. After buying the obligatory walking stick, we were off hiking along the trail. We had two guides, a main guide who leads and an assitance guide who walks with the slow-pokes at the back (which, despite Anna´s fears, was not one of). The first day was in fact fairly simple - only a few hours walking along a fairly flat route, making heaps of stops along the way. This did a lot for Anna´s confidence, especially as she was easily at the front of the group. We also got to see the amazing porters (or ´Cheskys´as our guide liked to call them - it means ´running people´, and with good reason), who carry all the camping and cooking gear along the trail. They are laden up with packs two times their size and who knows how much weight, and tear up the path ahead of us like they aren´t carrying anything at all, some of them in sandals (apparently they don´t like boots as they get blisters). And when we arrive at camp, they already have all the tents up and the meal on the way. The food was also incredible considering we are in the middle of nowhere - all served in a large communal tent with full dining sets and cutlery.

Day 2 is the infamous day where you climb around 1500m to the highest pass on the trek - Dead Womens Pass at 4200m (and no, that isn´t a reference to trekkers that don´t make it, but the silhouette of the pass). But again, this day didn´t quite live up to its reputation. It isn´t easy by any means, but you have lots of stops and once you are in the groove of going up the steps you seem to really chew up the metres.

In fact, it is the third day which is probably the toughest (though, the toughest part of the trek is really the toilets - they are minging, it is difficult to know how people can miss so much - Kel, you would most definitely struggle). Firstly, you spend the night before at 3700m and it is bloody cold - there is no getting up for a midnight widdle that´s for sure. Secondly, it is nearly all downhill, which sounds good, but the guides don´t call it the Gringo killer for nothing. It is made up of lots of little and not-so-little steps, over 2000 in all, and they require a lot of concentration and precise footwork. It is also the longest day - we headed off around 6.30am and didn´t get into the camp at the end of the day until around 4ish. And it was certainly the day that some of our group found the toughest - there were plenty of sore knees at the end, Anna´s included. (I picked up the Chesky technique, which is the run down the steps as quickly as you can - seemed to work as my knees were fine.) But to make up for it, it is also the best day. You visit four different Incan sites on the way, and you go up and down through so many different climates and environments. One minute you are going over a 4000m pass, the next through a jungle valley with lots of bird life, creepers and bamboo. It was constantly changing and I hardly even realised how much we were walking.

The last day obviously has a lot of expectation as it is when you finally make it to Machu Picchu. We had an even earlier start, as you go through the gate to walk the final 3kms to Machu Picchu at 5.30am. But there was much consternation when just as we got up it started to bucket down (it had only rained one other time over the previous 3 days, and that was for about half an hour while we were in the tents). There were some downcast faces as we all put on our wet weather gear and faced the possibility that we wouldn´t even be able to ´see´Machu Picchu when we made it. But, the Incan gods must have been looking favourable on us as just as we were about to set off the rain cleared up completely and we had a spectacular sunrise over Machu Picchu and hot and fine weather all day. Running (yep, running) down to Machu Picchu, we made it to the site just after 6am and spent the next hour or so just taking it in from the classic view you would have all seen. Even though we had already seen some great Incan ruins, Machu Picchu definitely topped them all. Our guide took us on a tour through the ruins and then we spent a couple of hours just relaxing and taking it all in. Those Incans were certainly a clever lot - especially when it comes to architecture, building and stonework. You just couldn´t help but be impressed with some these structures they built and that are still standing.

It was such a good 4 days it was with some regret that it ended. Though the thought of a hot shower and a fresh set of clothes were more than enough compensation - OK, I admit it, I absolutely stank! We also weren´t looking forward to the end of the tour as we met some really cool people. There were five of us - the ´trailblazers´I have christened us - who got on really well. We were always at the front of the group, often by ourselves, and had plenty of time to chat, spin some yarns, and have a few laughs. Daz and Jess are Aussies, but they were so cool I could forgive them for that; and Lee is a Manchurian who had the most comical inability to remember names I have ever met. We had an awesome time just the five of us at Machu Picchu that morning and have made promises to keep in touch. They have also given us plenty of tips and advice for the rest of our travels and have really got us looking forward to Bolivia. Our guides were also very good. Our head guide David was very passionate about Incan history and taught us all a lot. And our assistant guide Puma - who we dubbed ´Snoop´, as he looked just like the rapper - was lots of laughs.

So after such great times at Galapagos and the Incan trail, I´m not sure what can top it - certainly not anything here in Puno! But we are about to start the Bolivian leg of our travels and there is a lot to look forward to - biking down the world´s most dangerous road, a trip to the Amazon, and the Uyuni salt flats. So hopefully the good times continue (as well as the good health).

And of course, yesterday I finally caught up with Pepito. Pepito you ask? Pepito was the guinea pig that finally became my lunch yesterday. And how was Pepito? Well, I hate to say it, but he tasted a bit like chicken. There wasn´t much of him - you´d think there would be more meat on the little fellas - but he was tasty enough. So I don´t think Pepito´s cousins will become a regular feature on my table, but it was an experience and a bit of a laugh.

The South America Chronicles - Cuatro

I can confirm that we did finally make it to Cusco, and if anyone needs any information on the Lima Airport - I´m you man. We haven´t hit the Inca Trail yet - that starts tomorrow morning - but we did just have a good 3 days in the Sacred Valley....

After checking in with out Inca Trail guides after touching down in Cusco, we jumped onto a local bus over to Pisaq at the head of the Sacred Valley. Pisaq was a nice little colonial market town, with lots of stalls around its little square, on which our hotel was set. There really wasn´t much in Pisaq, just lots of friendly locals and a relaxed atmosphere. There was a good cafe also situated on the square - which was probably just as well as there weren´t a whole lot of other options that appealed. Though my pursuit of a meal of Cuy (Guinea Pig for those of you not in the know) was foiled again - we spotted a place earlier in the day that even had the poor little fella´s on display in a hutch, but when I turned up there for dinner it appeared that the place was only open for lunch. So my furry four-legged friends had another escape. But I will catch up with them, oh yes I will....

The next morning we walked up to the Inca ruins that overlook Pisaq. It wasn´t a long walk (only about 45mins), but it was a steep one. And our worst fears were confirmed, all our altitude acclimitisation had been lost in the Galapagos. But despite a lot of huffing and puffing, we made it to the ruins and nearly had an hour wandering around them all to ourselves - the tour buses arrive later in the day I think. We then bused it further down the Valley to the town of Urubamba, which at first seemed like a mistake to stay at. However, despite a frustrating hour walking around the town looking for our accomodation (it had changed both its name and its location!), we found that we became very fond of Urubamba over the next two days.

One day we took the short trip up to Ollantaytambo where we walked around the really impressive Inca ruins - a multitude of terraces up a steep slope, on the top of which had some stones so large it is a wonder they got them up there at all. The other day we bus/taxi´ed it up to the site of Moray - what was effectively a ´greenhouse´ the Inca´s built to test different crops at different climatic conditions. There are three sets of circular terraces, which apparently give the affect of simulating the different environs that would have been in the Incan terriority - from the mountains down to the sea. This way the Inca´s could test different crops before planting them on a larger scale - a pretty smart lot those Inca´s. We then walked the 10km or so back to Urubamba - which in hindsight might not have been a great decision. Though walking along the Andean ´puna´ (grasslands at altitude - we were at about 3300m) was pretty cool (we even spotted a Condor) - it didn´t have a great affect on my health. Only just coming right from my other gastric joys, I started to feel very average on the walk down - feeling weak and having very sore ears. I´m not sure whether this is due to the altitude (which would seem odd as I spent 2 weeks at at least these levels and didn´t have any problems), or the result of the ear infection I picked up from snorkelling in the Galapagos. Whatever it is, my ears are still very sore, as is my chest - not how I wanted to feel with the Inca Trail trek beginning in less than 24 hours. It appears that my body wasn´t quite ready for these travels to the developing world. And in a bizare twist - Anna is feeling good. But enough of the misery....

We ended up really liking Urubamba and had two of the best meals I think we will ever have for mains that cost US$10 each. I´m not sure what the chefs are doing in this town, they should be in michelin star restaurants in London charging 20 times the amount. It certainly isn´t what you expect to find in a dusty town like Urubamba. And after dinner each night we got to take one of the many tuk-tuks that parole the town. They will take you anywhere in the town for just 1 Sol (around US$0.30) and were lots of fun. We are really getting the hang of this South American transport ´system´. It seems shambolic and unorganised from the outside, but it just seems to work. Changing from one bus to another, or to a combi taxi (basically a van cramed with as many people as possible) or tuk-tuk, it always seems to go seamlessly. And the drivers are always helpful and always make sure you get off at the right place or get onto the right connection. And it is all ridiculously dirt cheap. Makes you wonder with all the technology, etc how we can get it so wrong so often (London-goers probably best you don´t read this).

We are now in Cusco, ticking away the afternoon and preparing for our 5.30am pick up tomorrow morning. We´ve picked up the necessary supplies - toilet paper (tick), snickers bars (tick), chewing gum and lollies (tick), water (tick). And now we get to go back to our room and work out how we are going to fit what we are taking into one small backpack - cue plenty of bickering tonight I think....

I am sure I will post an update in 5 days or so to let you all know how the trek went. I expect watching the sunrise over Machu Picchu will more than make up for the toils.

P.S. And it seems you can´t fly away to any corner of the world these days without missing out on some news. Congrats Craig & Suz, it seems that the new house hasn´t been the only thing keeping you up late at night!

P.S.S. And just to allay your fears, Anna and I are still together now that we are travelling by ourselves. However, a book or cards have become quite useful at dinner times....

The curse of Lima Airport has struck again as Anna and I are waylaid here with a 4 hour delay - apparently something about the airline being a plane short. Of course, we just happened to have gotten up at 4am for what was suppose to be a 6am flight, so we are not happy campers. And in what seems like cruel torture, we also have to sit through the numerous announcements for flights to Cusco for other airlines, which seem to go every 10 minutes - just our luck!

And as if to put a final nail in the coffin, the airline have also given us a meal voucher to what looks like the worst restaurant in the airport. We have made a couple of ´passes´, and to say the food looks unappealing is being too generous. Ah, the joys of travelling through South America....

Beer Scene - Ecuador

Well, there wasn´t much to report on this front. Ecuador was a little similar to Greece in the way that wherever you went you were limited to just the same choices - typically what seemed to be the only two beers brewed in Ecuador, Pilsener and Club Pilsener. The Pilsener was surprisingly drinkable, the Club was not....

The beer scene in Ecuador seems best illustrated by the fleeting escape I thought I had find when seeing a Ukranian porter for sale in a supermarket. On taking it back to the hotel and sipping my way through a pretty awful half glass, Brad pointed out to me that the expiry date on it was for last year!

Fortnately - I guess - I haven´t had much cause to do a lot of drinking as I am still afflicted by some stomach bug (or parasite as Anna likes to call it). It laid me up in bed all day on our first day in the Galapagos, and I am still suffering from vicious stomach cramps. I hoping it decides to go and be a parasite in someone else soon.

Nevertheless, it doesnt´t look like there will be much relief from this derth of decent beer until we make our way down to Chile. But I do have a couple of brew pubs lined up in Cusco to check out, so the report for Peru may be more favourable....

The South America Chronicles - Tres

Well, this morning we finally had to say goodbye to Brad & Sharon after 3 weeks, which really sucked. Was great having travelling companions - someone to share experiences with. Plus, having Brad around meant that I had someone to give a walloping in Euchre (the final match score was 20-7 to me). So now Anna and I are friendless (and Spanishless as well).

But we have had a great time together. We have just finished our 10 days in the Galapagos Islands, and what an amazing place. When the first sailors hit the shores centuries ago, you could understand why they thought of it as ´hell on earth´. Though appearances are deceiving, amidst this seemingly desolate volcanic landscape is so much diverse and fascinating life it was somewhat overwhleming. Animals - many of them endemic to the Galapagos - are just everywhere. And they have no fear of humans so you can interact and observe them will incredible ease.

The stars of the show were most definitely the Galapagos sea lions - or as we dubbed them, the ´sea dogs´. We had a couple of great snorkelling sessions swimming with these playful and inquisitive creatives. There ae so much fun and seem to be just as interested in us as we are in them. We also snorkelled with Galapagos penguins, rays, timid white tip reef sharks, docile turtles, and multitudes of fish of various colours and sizes. We saw plenty of boobies - Blue Footed Boobies that is - with their amazing diving for fish and comical walk. On dry land we saw plenty of other strange creatures - piles of marine iguanas snorting salt from their nostrils, wave albatross engaged in mating dances, and Giant Tortoises in the wild. And probably the most amazing experience, finding a Blue Whale on one of our sails. An unbelieveably large creature, and a one in a million encounter.

And the boat we were on for 8 days - the Diamant - was great. Nice and cosy with just us 12 guests, comfortable, a great crew and great food. We also managed to escape having to be teamed up with any Americans and meet some good people. It was hard leaving the relative luxury at the end of the week.

But the show must go on, and Anna and I have a flight to Cusco in the morning. We have a few days to look around the ´Sacred Valley´and then we have the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu. Will be a lot harder than crusing on a boat for 8 days, but hopefully just as enjoyable. I will update you on our bruised and battered bodies in about a weeks time.

The South America Chronicles - Dos

Brad and I are wyling away an afternoon in Quito so time for an update....

First with the good stuff. The 4 days we had at the Black Sheep Inn were awesome. The place is situated in the middle of nowhere. If World War 3 broke out, I am sure we would have been the last to know. Getting there was interesting. It took two bus rides, the second being along a dirt track, in some amazing scenery, and with a lot of locals. The bus was crammed, not helped by our packs in the aisle. And just when you thought it would be emptying out, on would come a whole set of locals, with sacks of all sorts of things - from potatoes to (live) chickens. They were even riding on the roof at some stage. After 4 hours of this we finally arrived at the serenity of BSI.

The BSI is all about sustainability and environmentalism, and they do it pretty well. The views across the very seismic-inflicted countryside were brilliant, and the vegetarian food wasn´t far off as well. We spent the three days getting out and about and hiking, including the Quilotoa Crater Lake. There were lots of interesting guests to meet up with at the end of the day, also good for collecting tips about travelling through South America. Even with the hiking, it was all very relaxing, and we all agreed we could easily have spent more time there.

But we had other things to do - for the boys, we were due to climb Mt Cotopaxi (5897m)and the girls were going on a 3 day horseriding trek. We are still waiting for thr girls to return this afternoon, so I can´t tell you much about that, but the attempted climb was last night/this morning, so I can fill you in on all that drama!

It all started yesterday morning, when we were picked up and driven up to the refuge on the mountain, which is already at 4800m. Now you might be asking what acclimitisation we had been doing for this. Not a lot (the BSI was at 3200m and the Crater Lake we hiked from it just short of 4000m) - but the climbing guide company we had booked with assuredus that that should be enough. However, there was still plenty of trepidation on our part.

Though it all started fairly well, with our practise with the crampons and ice picks on the nearby glacier at 5000m going well. But it was only after this that Brad started to ge a very painful headache at the back of his neck. He did his best to ride it out and got up at the appointed time of midnight, but ultimately made the wise decision that attempting the climb wouldn´t be a great idea in his condition. So this left me to slog it out with the othr 4 climbers who had booked in with our guide company. And, at this stage I felt pretty good, not feeling any effects of the altitude. But is wasn´t the altitude that finally got me....

It might have been the meat platter the previous day, of the meal cooked up for us at the refuge, but early on in the climb I realised something wasn´t quite right ´down there´. And with my history with the D-word, this wasn´t a good sign. However, along with my guide and my new partner (Matt), we started up the mountain at 1am, making good time - but damn it was hard. Despite it being a beautiful night, a clear sky full of stars and a near full moon, it was quite windy, and trying to push yourself up the mountain was really hard. Early on there was a long slog up quite a slushy slope, and it seemed that for every two (small) steps, you slid back one. But with no apparent effects of altitude sickness I was prepared to slog it out in my typical stubborn self. But it ws now that I really needed to do what you don´t want to be having to do in the dark, on a freezing cold and windy 45 degree glacier. But such things don´t care about such logic, and when nature calls it is hard to deny. Especially when it calls three times! And it was this that finally defeated me. After about 5 hours of slogging up that dan mountain, and just 150m from the top, I couldn´t go any further. I was simply drained (literally) of any energy and quite dehydrated as well. It was a pretty sad decision to make, especially as it meant my climbing partner had to turn around as well, but I couldn´t see myself making it to the top in my condition. Very frustrating, as I wasn´t beaten by the altitude, but by some dodgy meal. I even found it hard to appreciate the stunning sunrise on the descent.

Anyway, we came, we saw, but we definitely didn´t conquer. It still makes for an interesting experience, but I don´t think either of us will be hurrying back to mountainairing any time soon. It must be the hardest thing - physically and mentally - I have ever attempted. The Ironman in March might seem easy by comparison.

But don´t fear, we now have 10 days in the Galapagos to looks forward to (though also then biding farewell to Brad and Sharon and having to take on South America on our own) and then the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu. Look forward to updating you from Cuzco, Peru.

P.S. I am also 9-5 up over Brad in the Great Ecuadorian Euchre Champonships.

The South America Chronicles - Uno

Just a few days into the trip and there has been plenty of drama so far. It began with a 4 hour delay on our flight from Madrid to Lima, which meant we missed our flight through to Quito. The result being hat we had to spend an unplanned night in Lima - which after plenty of stress, worked out OK with us being able to organise another flight the next morning. Ironically, it also mean that we missed the huge earthquake in Peru - that you have probably heard about - being in the air when we were supposed to be at teh airport. In fact, we didn´t learn about the earthquake until the next morning, but by all accounts it has been quite a bad one.

But since all that drama, things have gone well. We have just spent the weekend up at the market town of Otavalo. Markets were very cool, a lot less touristy than we thought it would be. We went for a walk in the surrounding hillsides for some good views - it is an incredibly vlcanic country.

It is also incredibly cheap. We´ve just been out for a night on the town where dinner cost us $10 each and cocktails were $1.50 each. Though this is not necessarily a good thing as the girls are struggling to handle their drink at altitude!

We are off tomorrow to the Black Sheep Inn for four days, looking forward to some relaxing time - reading, cards, and eating & drinking. We may even manage to fit in some hiking and mountain biking as well. And then Brad and I embark on our climb up Mt Cotopaxi - I´m not looking forward to that, much!! Will update you on it all next time we come into contact with the ínterweb´.

The South America Chronicles - Cero

Anna and I are just about to head off on our South America adventure. We some regret, we finally leave London on August the 15th, and we arrive back in Auckland November the 7th.

Firstly, we fly off with Brad & Sharon, first stop Quito, Ecuador. We spend the first week or so travelling around the Ecuador, including visiting the market town of Otavalo, before heading down for 4 nights at the (what looks awesome) Black Sheep Inn in the Quilotoa region. For Brad and I, this makes up our acclimatisation for our attempt to climb Mt Cotopaxi (on August 24th/25th), a 6000m metre high volcano! Amateur climbers can do it, though it still requires ropes and crampons, and how the altitude will affect us is still an unknown. However, the guides we have booked - Moggely - come high recommended, and seem confident that we wont have any problems. After our conquering of the mountain we meet up with the girls - who are going on a 3 day horse trek around Cotopaxi National Park - and head back to Quito for another couple of days.

On August 27th, we then fly out to the Galapagos Islands for 10 day, including an 8 day cruise of the boat Diamante, where we explore the islands and will do lots of amazing stuff - swim with sea lions/dolphins/penguins, see giant turtles/iguanas, etc. On the September 5th, we leave the Galapagos and say farewell to Brad & Sharon - who are travelling for longer than us and hence are moving slower than we are. But Anna and I fly down to Cuzco, where we are booked to do a 4 day walk along the Inca Trail, finishing at Machu Picchu on September 13th.

And then this is the end of our booked adventures, we have the next 7-8 weeks to travel as we wish.We have a good idea of what we want to do though. Next we will travel across to La Paz, Bolivia by way of Lake Titicaca. In Bolivia, we will mountain bike down the world's most dangerous road, visit the Amazon, and the Salar de Uyuni salt flats.

Next we plan to travel down through Chile, through the Atacama desert, and down to the Lake District, which is about 3/4 down, tasting a few Chilean reds along the way.

From the Lake District, the plan is to cross over into Argentina and make our way up to Buenos Aires - where we will want to make sure we have enough time to really enjoy. We have a few things on the list we would like to do in Argentina - go up to the Iquazu Falls, the wine region of Mendoza, eat as much Argentinean steak as humanly possible - but some of this will depend on how much time we have.

It is a big adventure for Anna and I and we are hoping that it all goes smoothly and that we have a great time. I will look to post a few entries on my blog site as we travel, updating you where we are and what we have done.

Adios amigos!

Pub Watch: The Bricklayer's Arms, Putney (London)
Before I left I had to post a blog about my favourite local bar in Putney - The Bricklayer's Arms. Tucked down a little side street, I didn't actually know about this pub for my first year here - despite only being a 5 minute walk from my place. However, when we found it, it instantly became my favourite.

It is nothing like most of the other bars/pubs in Putney, which while many are good, cater more for the young crowd. Nothing flashy inside or out, The Bricklayer's is most definitely a 'beer pub' and excels at this by having the whole Timothy Taylor range on handpull (the only pub in London to do so). And not only is this selection good, the ales are always in tip top condition - some of the best I've found in London. So it is not surprising that the Bricklayer's recently won the Greater London Pub of the Year, a huge achievement for a small Putney pub.

I know I will certainly miss being able to pop down there for a good pint of Landlord or Ram Tam.

Therapy - part deux

Another year and another 10 days relaxing on Anna's father's boat in the Med (see last year's trip) - life's not too tough I guess. With our imminent departure from London getting closer and closer, it probably wasn't the best timing for taking 10 days out, but it ended up being just what we needed to get away from the stress of getting ready to leave. And it was also very welcome to actually experience a bit of summer this year.

This year we took Rich & Titch down, meeting up with Martin & Viv (Anna's parents) on the boat in Villefrance, which is a small old town just east of Nice. For the next week, we didn't get up to too much, the recipe was pretty much the same each day - get up, go for a swim, eat, take the boat out and anchor for the day in a small bay, swim, lie down, eat drink, swim, come back to the marina, eat and drink some more - I think you get the picture. And we had some beaut weather, I don't think we saw a cloud the whole time, and boy was it hot (the one day we did see a temperature reading, it said 39 degrees!!).

Rich & Titch really loved the boat, despite Rich getting massacred by the odd mosquito. He also went down in Euchre 'championship' as well. By the end of the week we were all looking pretty brown (and also a little 'thicker').

Luckily for Anna and I, we stayed on for a few extra days after Rich & Titch left, catching up with my parents who were coming to the boat for 10 days themselves. All the in-laws in one place went smoothly and when we finally left, it looked like the cards would be coming out often for some late night rounds of 'Arsehole'.

Coming back to London, the task in front of us was no different, but we were certainly in a better frame of mind to attack it.

You can see our pictures here, and Rich & Titch's pictures here.

Pub Watch: The Falkland Arms (Great Tew, Oxfordshire).
Situated in an incredible quaint thatched village in the heart of Oxfordshire, "this pub is a haven for drinkers, with an unspoilt, relaxed atmosphere". I had actually been here three years earlier when Andy & Yasmin brought Anna and I for a couple of pints on a warm summers day. My second visit was after our weekend away at the Lake District. Driving back with Si & Kel and with the prospect of hitting London in the middle of rush hour, I thought of the Falkland Arms again and we decided to make a detour and enjoy the evening with some good beer and food.

The village itself is worth a visit alone, a small collection of thatched cottages in the Oxfordshire countryside, and the pub is also thatched and is a great old building. It is very small, just the one room, while the rest of the building is a small dining room and lodgings. While being very cosy inside (perfect for a cold and dull English summer's evening), there is still room for a selection of six handpumps of cask ale. Definitely worth a mention is that this is also one of the few pubs that I have been to that had no keg taps whatsoever at the bar - the only lager being some Bitburgers in a small fridge behind the bar. This is my type of place!

But not only is the ale good, so is the food. We had a delicious baked camembert with chutney to warm us up, before moving to the dinner room where our meal was equally delicious. It was definitely worth the stop off and the late night return to London, and in my mind is one of the quintessential English pubs.

The Lake District

For the pictures click here.

The Lake District (or LakeS District to some) was one of those places we wanted to get to before leaving, and we just squeezed it in the weekend. But the Lakes weren't the only water we saw during the weekend....

'Events' started on Friday with a typical summer day in England this year. If you haven't seen the news reports - that entailed a monsoon-like storm hitting London and some of the heaviest rain seen hitting parts of the rest of the country. The rain in London itself only lasted around an hour, but it was extremely heavy and caused chaos to our travel plans. Planning to meet Si & Kel at 4pm to pick up the hire car and head off, none of use could get anywhere on the tubes/trains and our plans to beat the rush over traffic were ruined. Interesting, though the rain brought near shut-down to the transport network for the rest of the day, Lords was able to restart the cricket test within an hour of the rain stopping - maybe we need to start giving the maintenance contracts to ground keepers.

But we finally got away, but it was slow going. Our destination was Ludlow in Shropshire, which was a half point to stay the night to break up the drive to the Lake District. We had originally planned to get up there by 8pm for dinner, but we didn't end up getting there until midnight! We did stop off for dinner along the way, but after that the drive became very 'interesting'. Once we reached the edge of Shropshire and got off the motorway, we were now entering the edge of the area that had been the worst hit by the weather. We didn't now it at the time, but just south in Gloucestershire and Worcestershire, people were getting trapped in houses and on the roads (hundreds spent the night in their cars on the M5). But we also had our own 'fun'. On the smaller roads towards Ludlow, we met plenty of dips in the road where the water was getting pretty high. And a couple of times we went through some water we probably shouldn't have - you really shouldn't have the water coming over your lights! And getting on to 11pm, there was quite a bit of dismay when the road into Ludlow was closed. But I'm not a map-nerd for nothing and I managed to find us an alternative route into Ludlow. Though that wasn't the end of it, as all but one of roads into the centre of Ludlow was closed, and we had to drive around the town looking for a way in. Obviously we were somewhat relieved to finally make it to our B&B - it was tiring stuff.

The next day we went for a wander around the attractive town of Ludlow, stocking up on some of the good food the town is renown for - not that we needed it after the big B&B breakfast. Also during our wanderings we also got a feel for how bad the rain had been the day before. Even though it was not even one of the worse areas hit, the river running around the centre of Ludlow had broken it banks and the sight of this put our drive the night before in some context. Si and I also made an interesting trip for a midday pint at The Church Inn in the middle of the town. The young guy behind the bar had not even finished pulling the first pint when, identifying as New Zealanders, gladly told us about his part in the 'Daryl Tuffey incident' back in Christchurch a couple years ago. For those of you not up with the play on this one - article. Our lad must have been Paddy Curtis - hardly something you think you would be telling strangers 1 minute after meeting them. In fact, he looked a bit worried when I started taking notes - though I let him know these were beer notes, and I wasn't from the Press. This was soon to be followed by some old punter accosting us about how lots of houses in NZ use corrugated iron, and he was looking to write a book about it - yes, exciting stuff. Incredibly though, we were saved when another old punter from across the bar shouted "did you say corrugated iron?", and next thing you now they are deep in conversation and the history and facts of this 'exciting' topic. I'm guessing I'm not going to here that shouted across a bar again....

We eventually set off for the Lake District through some more flood waters, but also thankfully towards some better weather. In fact, I think the Lake District must have got the pick of the weather across the country that weekend, so we did quite well. After stopping off at Coniston to bring up the RateBeer 1000, we carried on to Ambleside, where we were staying for the next two nights, and meeting up with Andy and Yasmin who had come down from Scotland. We had a superb dinner out, with prospect of standing on top of England the next day....

Scafell Pike is the highest peak in England and what I was hoping to walk the next day. Not only would it be a cool thing to have done, it would also be good practice for the climbing in store for Anna and I in South America. Fortunately, the weather was playing game, and though it was overcast, rain didn't look like a problem. Half the fun ended up in getting there though, as the drive we took to get to the bottom of the climb took a couple of entertaining narrow passes, with plenty of switchbacks and passing bays. Parking the cars, we set off with trusty A4 sheet map in hand and notes on the route to take. Not that it was really necessary, as there were sufficient other walkers around to know what we were on the right track. The climb was pretty steep and tricky - and required a few breaks. And probably a good thing, it was quite cloudy so we couldn't quite work out how far we had to go. But eventually the four of us made it to the top - Si, Andy, Anna and myself (Kel and Yasmin deciding two-thirds up that the pub at the start of the climb was a better prospect - and who can blame them). Reaching the top, we couldn't see a thing, so we sat down and had a bite to eat. But just as we were about the head back down the clouds started to lift and we were afforded some great views over the whole Lake District (and even a view across to the Isle of Man) - it certainly made the climb worth it. Getting down ended up being a lot trickier than getting up, and by the time we were at the bottom we all had very sore legs and very thirsty mouths. Fortunately, we could satisfy both the need for rest and beer at the brewpub (The Wasdale Head Inn) at the bottom (and in the middle of nowhere really). Driving back, we stopped off for some very good steaks at another brewpub in the middle of nowhere and managed just a couple of pints at a pub back in Ambleside before we all had to hit the sack.
The next morning, we had our last B&B Full English Breakfast (which might be just as well!) and said our farewells to Andy and Yasmin - it was awesome catching up with them before we leave - before taking a scenic walk around a mountain Tarn and then starting the long journey home. However, we decided to make one last stop off along the way for dinner at The Falkland Arms pub near Oxford (see the pub watch entry). Getting home late, we had certainly managed to fit plenty in to the weekend - incidents, food, and beer!

RateBeer 1000
It was only about 3 months ago that I looked at my number of ratings on ratebeer.com and thought that it might be possible to hit 1000 before I left the UK. Back then, I thought it would be a close call. But I ended up getting there with nearly a month to spare!

It came clear that the big moment was going to come on our trip up to the Lake District, so it took some careful management to ensure that it was going to be something special. Driving up there on the Saturday, referencing the CAMRA Good Beer Guide and the road map, I had picked out the Coniston Bluebird Bitter for the big moment - whose credidentials include 1998 CAMRA Champion Beer of Britain, as well as various other national and international awards. And futhermore, I could have it at the brewery itself, in its attached brewpub - The Black Bull Inn in Coniston. The name of the beer "Bluebird" has plenty of meaning as well - named after the boat that Donald Campbell died in attempting to break his own world water speed record on Coniston Water in 1967.

So how was the beer itself. Well it didn't disappoint - see rating. Hopefully the next 1000 will be as enjoyable as the first 1000 (though probably a little less accessible back in NZ).

P.S. To put it in some context, I am still not in the top 300 raters on ratebeer.com and am still well behind the top rater, who is just shy of 9000 at this stage. Though Stu tells me that when I return to NZ, I will be the top rater there.

NZ Ironman

Well, I've done it now. I've just entered myself in the 2008 NZ Ironman, held on March 1st in Taupo. And if you are thinking that is not enough time to train, you might be right, but I'm counting on the 4 months I have when I get back being just enough.

So set aside the weekend around March 1st as I would appreciate as much support as I can get (I will be looking into accomodation).

And for those of you not familiar, this is the task ahead of me:
> Swim 3.8km
> Bike 180km
> Run 42km (marathon)
> and a lot of hours of training!

Pub Watch: Jerusalem Tavern (Farringdon, London)

Making sure I visit all my favourite spots around town before the imminent departure, Thursday night was the turn of one of my favourtie pubs - Jerusalem Tavern. The Good Beer Guide says a "tiny pub with a huge reputation". And there is not doubting that, everytime I go there the place is always pack, and in Thursday's case, spilling out on the road.

Inside is small and bare, lots of wood and candles with a medieval feel - which is fitting as a pub has stood on the site since at least the 14th century. The beers inside are all from the St Peters Brewery, who brew a large variety of unique, if not always brialliant, beers. Though the bottles that the beers come in - large medicine-type - bottles always attract interest, and the taps mounted as barrels in the wall behind the bar are also a little different.

I'll certainly miss going to this place, always has a great atmosphere and just that little bit quirky.

The Ivy

With the weeks ticking by, it was time for one last extravagent night in London - destination The Ivy. Famous not so much for amazing food or a pricey menu - but for the difficulty in which it is to get a table there. We had in fact booked nearly six months ago, which is par for the course for The Ivy. So why so popular? Well, the food is very good, and for the quality, quite reasonably priced. But The Ivy's infamy is mostly connected with its popularity with celebrities.

So how did we go? After a selection process that came down to who bribed us the most, Rich & Titch joined us on our night of glutony and celebrity-spotting. In the spirit of the evening we started with a bottle of champagne at the bar before moving to our table. We made the most of our (strictly alloted) three hours there, getting through a further bottle of Pinot Noir and then a Saint Emilion Reserve. Three courses all round of course, Anna's scallop entree probably looked the best, and the baked alaska Titch and Anna had for dessert the most extravagant (though my seared tuna on puy lentil salsa was delicious). And how did we go with the celebrity spotting? Well we thought having Rick Gervais and Jeremy Piven there wasn't a bad return, but I let you decide that for yourselves....

Tour de Kent

If you didn't know already, the Tour de France came to the UK this year, with the start of the race - the Prologue - being held in the London, and the first stage being a 203km ride from London to Canterbury in Kent. We all decided that it would be a good idea to watch the stage somewhere out in Kent - and for some of us, ride along part of the stage the day before. So avoiding the chaos that would have beset inner-city London with the prologue on the Saturday, six of us (myself, Jabs, Rich, Brad, Si & Tarns) met up early - OK, not that early - on Saturday morning to embark on our way along the route that the 'real' riders would be taking the next day.

Biking out towards Kent, we certainly saw some of the more 'interesting' parts of Eastern London, but the roads were good and the sun was out. In fact, the roads were pretty good on much of the route we took - we assumed they either picked the roads because of this or had smartened them up in the last year or so. And the sun being out was not being taken for granted, considering that the 'summer' in the UK has so far been pretty miserable (I had only on the Tuesday had to ride through a 'lake' that had previously been a road after a freak - but all too common - storm had passed over London). Passing outside the city limits of London, we hit some pretty enjoyable Kent countryside, passing through some nice looking towns and villages. The pick of the bunch was Rochester, where the first Sprint of the tour was staged, with the route going through narrow streets, including a cobble-stoned stretch with the impressive Rochester Castle on the right and the picturesque Rochester Cathedral on the left.

It was from Rochester that we turned south into the heart of Kent and some interesting mix of terrain. After a long stretch through winding lanes in the countryside, we suddenly followed the route onto a very fast two lane highway for a stretch. We were now getting on past midday, and with our pub lunch ahead of us at the 85km mark, we had something to aim for. It was with many tired legs, grumbling stomachs and thirsty lips that we finally rolled into West Peckham and the Swan on the Green brewpub. It was here that near disaster was only just avoided, as we found out that the kitchen was due to close in 15 minutes. Two courses were quickly ordered, along with a round of pints and jugs of water, and we took ourselves outside the pub overlooking the green - where, by chance, the village fete was being held. The food was good (the significant bread portions were most welcome), the beer was OK - with the Swan Cygnet easily being the pick of the bunch - and the chance to relax was welcome by all (both legs and from Rich's moaning about "hills" every time the road inclined by more than two metres).

Three pints later, we inevitably had to get back on the bike - some a little gingerly - and bike the remaining 40km (as it turned out) to meet up with the girls at our camp site. With energy levels restored though, everyone was in much better spirits and we made pretty good work of the remaining distance. And we finally got ourselves one of those "hills" - the first King of the Mountain stage of that year's tour actually (and where we went to watch the race the next day). In fact, it wasn't really that much of a hill, probably just 100 metres over a gradient of only 4% (not really comparable to Col d'Aubisque of 1800 metres and 10% fame that Jabs, Tarns and I did a couple of years back). From there it was a comfortable cruise down to our camp site and the end of a successful day's ride. (Special mention has to be made for Si who completed the whole 125km on his mountain bike. Watching him go up some of those inclines I was feeling the pain for him - Si having to do nearly 3 rotations to my 1 and having to push a bike probably three times as heavy as mine. It really was a great effort.)

Arriving at our camp site it was good to have a hot shower and a change of clothes. But there was something missing - the girls! Word had it that after putting up (some of) the tents and dropping the gear off, they had walked down to a local country pub and set themselves up there. Girls x no sun cream x wine = very drunk and very sunburnt girls. As we found out after a couple of phone calls - well one half was a phone call, the other half wavered between slurring and giggling. Fortunately we had had the foresight to book ourselves in for dinner at another country pub nearby and we agreed to meet them there. Unfortunately, the walk didn't seem to do them any good as they were still a pack of giggling Gertruds' by the time we caught up with them and I don't think we were the most welcome patrons at the pub that night (though this was all in form for the girls, as apparently they had been scaring away the customers from their pub all day). But an enjoyable night we had, and the bikers even found the legs for some late night country lane rambling after dinner.

Waking up in the morning to the scourge of all campers - dew, but also glorious sunshine, we quickly packed everything up and headed out to our point to watch the Tour go past. While the girls manage to get a lift from the crazy owner of our camp site, we bikers put the legs back over the bike and cycled the 20km or to our meeting point - dodging road closures and policeman trying to tell us that we should be pushing our bikes (as if). We all arrived just in time to catch the caravan of sponsors and all the waving back and forth. Though it seemed that the French sponsors weren't so willing to give away as many of the goodies in the UK and the waving proved pretty useless. Some good crowds had turned out to watch the stage - this had been a feature of both days in the UK and apparently organisers are keen for the Tour to return to London soon. The riders finally came through around 1pm, making light work of such a small climb. A bunch of 5 riders had a 5 minute break on the rest of the Peloton and an English rider actually took the King of the Mountain points on the hill (and the jersey at the end of the day). The sight of the 180-strong Peloton cruising past was pretty cool, but as is the case with being a spectator along the Tour - it was all over as quickly as it begun. But there is no substitute for seeing these supreme athletes up close and personal, and for us bike geeks, checking out their gear.

The final chapter (if you've got this far) of our weekend away was the train ride back into London. In the spirit of the Tour, in a way that only a British Train Company could engineer, they had in all their wisdom decided that no bikes could be taking on their trains that day - on a day when plenty of people were riding along the stage and would be wanting to get back to London! However, we were able to call their bluff when the girls - who had jumped on a train rather than wait with us until later that day - rang us up and informed us that their train was nearly empty. Armed with this knowledge and the motivation to find at least one train guard with more common sense than the need for an ego trip, we finally prevailed and comfortably boarded the next train to London. All in all, a good weekend had out in the sun.

Plenty more pics from the weekend away here.

BBBB Tour

Boys, Belgium, Bikes and Beer - you can't ask for better ingredients for a short weekend away.

On Friday night, the boys boarded the Eurostar to Brussels, bikes in tow, for a last boys weekend away before Brad and I leave in August. Joining Brad and I were Rich, Jabs and Si - unfortunately Todd had to give a rain-check (literally, as he was off to play in the mud at Glastonbury). At Brussels it was just a matter of a quick change of trains and up we went to the gothic city of Ghent. Jumping on our bikes at the station (and remembering that we had to ride on the 'right' side of the road), we made the simple ride to our hotel for the night. That is 'simple', as in stop a few times to scratch our heads and wonder where we are and ask four different locals for directions (who surprisingly, didn't seem to know where they were either!). In fact, it was somewhat by chance, when trying to decipher some very confusing Flemish directions from a group of school girls, that we saw that our Eden ('Hotel Eden' that is) was just on the other side of the intersection.
It was getting late, so with no mucking around, we quickly locked up the bikes, drew cards to see who didn't have to listen to Rich's snoring all night and headed out to get a few beery delights. I should add here, that walking through the city, it was very picturesque, with lots of towering Gothic architecture, canals, large squares - and plenty of Belgian bars. First stop was the cool little bar Aba-Jour, which the 'bible' (Tim Webb's 'Belgium Good Beer Guide') recommended for food and, of course, beer. To set the taste buds tingling for the rest of the night I started with a Lambic, ordering the Cantillon Gueuze, Si joining me with the Cantillon Kriek. But the rest of the boys were scared off by warnings from our waiter (they are very sour) and opted for the still very good Chouffe. We ordered Belgian stews all round and had, of course, plenty of chips. With it being a nice night we decided to move on and try to find a bar where we could sit outside and enjoy the evening. (Little did I know how I would regret this. Aba-Jour had the one beer above all others I wanted to try - the Westvleteren 12 - considered the best beer in the world and the highest rated on ratebeer.com. It was on their menu, for the not so small sum of €11, but I thought I would probably see it somewhere again and preferably as an end of the nigh tipple. I never did see it again....)

After a bit of wandering around, we found ourselves at the Waterhuis bar, apparently "a Ghent institution", with a good little spot at a table canal-side. The service was a little slow, which isn't necessary a bad thing when the beers are 9%, and the waitress was a rare find - one that wasn't hard to look at (well, it was a boys trip after all). In fact, with a decent beer list, we ended up staying there until closing time, indulging in the perfect boy's trip treat - late night meaty snacks. Mindful of the fact that we were due to jump on our bikes in a few hours time, we sauntered back through the city to our hotel in the early hours of the morning.

Waking up the next morning there was a clamour to get our heads out the window, partly to get some fresh air, but also to make a nervous assessment of the weather - the forecast had predicted rain for the weekend. At this stage, both were pleasing to the senses. After stocking up on the usual European breakfast and waiting for Brad to do his hair, we slipped into the lycra and headed out on the bikes. Once again, having a whole map of Belgium printed onto an A3 bit of paper proved to be pretty useless when trying to navigate our way around the streets of Ghent, but when we eventually asked for directions, once again we happened to be right where we wanting to be.

Our route from Ghent to Brugge was along the Ghent-Brugge canal, a ride of about 50-odd kms. Those Europeans certainly know how to treat their cyclists, with the canal having 3-metre wide paved bike lanes on both sides pretty much the whole way, even cutting into the countryside from time to time - impressive stuff. Of course, it was only about 5 minutes along the canal when what we had all been dreading finally arrived - the rain. So on went the wet weather gear, but onwards we went. In fact the rain wasn't too bad - though there were a couple of instances when it was a fair deluge and it was a surprise not to see Noah himself cruising down the canal. But when you are soaked through, there is not much you can do - and it actually became enjoyable, man battling the elements.

And for much as there were periods of rain, there were dry periods, sometimes even sunny, and riding along you dry up pretty quickly. During one such dry spell, we happened past a small bar canal-side. Deciding to enjoy the moment, we took up the seats outside and ordered ourselves a round of Palm Specials at the crazy price of €1.20 each. Of course, this was one act of defiance too many for the weather gods, and we were promptly sent packing indoors to the bar - which was pretty much the front room of their house - and a second round of beers (there's a silver lining to every cloud, even one that is raining).

With some horrible attempts at Flemish goodbyes, to the humour of the locals (read "local"), we headed back out into the rain in pursuit of another bar further along that I had picked out for lunch. Once again we found ourselves a little locationally challenged, but sheltering in the bus stop from another Noah-inspiring deluge, we managed to prise out some directions from a fellow rain-avoider in exchange for a couple of Minstrels. With rumbling tummies and wet everything, we parked up outside the 'Seventh Heaven' bar in the small village of Beernem (with a name like that, it was obviously meant to be) and headed in. I'm not sure what the women running the bar thought of us bedraggled lot, especially as the only other people in the bar seemed be Octogenarians in their Sunday bests. Nevertheless, she was friendly enough and we quickly ordered some drinks and food (well, as quick as you can when we had to have her show us that "Brood" ont he menu was bread). This was a great little place, done up really nice with an impressive beer list, and even more impressively, one lady behind the bar who was barwoman, waitress, and chef. And she did a fine job of it all as well, with the grilled beef ribs being the perfect boys weekend lunch.

With 15-odd kms still to go to Brugge, we reluctantly left 'Seventh Heaven', though made all the more easy by the glorious sunshine that had now come out. With 3 more good beers and a great lunch in the belly, off we cycled along the canal again. Of course, as these things tend to go, we didn't get far. Just a couple of kms along we came across another bar, ominously called the 'Half Moon' (there is a pub by the same name on my road in Putney), and a democratic decision was quickly made to have just one more. For once, showing some constraint, we did just have that one, and enjoyed the last 10kms in the sun into Brugge, and not surprisingly after all the beers over the day, with much merriment.

After quickly finding our hotel for the night (true this time), we all spruced ourselves up with a shower and converted our rooms into a Chinese laundry. Having not had a beer for all of an hour, our target was what is quoted by some as the 'best bar in the world' - Brugs Beertje. With a huge beer list and good mix of tourists and locals inside, it lived up to its reputation (for more, see the Pub Watch post). In fact, it was so good we went twice! After our first spell at Brugs Beertje, we went off in search of the one thing that must be part of every boys weekend - steaks! After doing a circuit of Brugge, we ended up going to the restaurant across the street from Brugs Beertje, which served us up some big steaks with peppercorn sauce - perfect. As mentioned, once we finished up dinner, we decided that Brugs Beertje was so good that there was no need to check out any other bars, and back we went across the road. Plenty of brilliant beers later, we reluctantly took our leave of the lock-in, some of us in better shape than others.

Sunday started with a few sore heads and blurry eyes and it was a bit of a slow start by all. There was the odd spot of rain outside and plenty of fluffing about inside. Eventually we agreed to go out for a shortish ride for lunch and get back for our train to Brussels around 3pm. After a cruise around Brugge we headed out along a picturesque tree-lined canal, our minds and bodies better for the fresh air. Only about 10km outside of Brugge we came up to the attractive town of Damme, decided to stop for a drink....and didn't end up going any further. Though, this was entirely our fault as the pizza's we ordered took over an hour and half. They were good, but not that good - I think there must be an inverse relationship between the service you get and the amount of sweaty lycra you are wearing.

With time up, we had to cycle back to the Brugge train station and took the trip back to Brussels to drop our bikes off in time to get on our Eurostar back to London. This gave us just enough time to fit in - you guessed it - one more beer. It was with much regret that we had to leave, as soon as the Eurostar left the platform I wanted to turn around and go back. It may be a while until I get back to Belgium again, but I definitely will be returning.

Epilogue: Arriving back into London, there was just one final leg of the boys weekend left. This was a quick cycle around to Si's where Kellie had recorded the All Black-South Africa game for us from the day before, accompanied by the last thing that would make a boys weekend complete - curry!

Click here for more pics.

Pub Watch: Brugs Beertje (Brugge, Belgium)

Tim Webb's Belgium Good Beer Guide has this to say about Brugs Beertje:


The one and only, the original "Little Bruges Beer". You cannot call yourself a well-travelled beer lover until you have been here. This is the place that made us decide to create the Guide.

And it certainly lived up to such a reputation. So good, I had to go twice.

The inside is what you want from a bar, simple with interesting paraphernalia on the walls, a good noise level that just breaths conversation, and a beer list as long as your arm (well, if your arm has 250+ beers on it). And the service was superb - very friendly and it was hard to believe there was just to two of them as you never had to wait. With such a reputation, it was not surprising to have quite a few tourists there (we were ones ourselves I guess), but there was also a good sprinkling of locals (mostly up at the bar) to suggest it is still a genuine bar and not just a tourist trap.

All the beers were in superb condition, and of course this being Belgium, were served in the appropriate branded glass. On my two visits, I got through some fine beers: La Rulles Brune, De Dolle Extra Export Stout, Het Kapittel Watou Prior, De Ranke Guldenberg & Witkap Pater Singel. The pick for me being the Het Kapittel Watou Prior.

It seems the quintessential Belgian bar to me, and certainly one of the best bars I have ever had the pleasure of drinking in, and one I will have to revisit again.

Greece is the Word

Click here for for pictures in the web album.

The Greek Islands have been on Anna's list of places to visit for some time now and if we hadn't fit it in before our imminent departure I would have never heard the end of it. And, after getting back on Sunday I'm very happy we went.

It all started with a pretty crazy and Friday night. We flew into Athens on the Friday night at around 10.30pm, but weren't due to fly out to Santorini until 6am the next morning. There is only one (very expensive) hotel next to the airport and rather than travel all the way into town to just spend a couple of hours lying on a bed waiting to get a taxi all the way back again, we decided to hit the town instead. Unconventional and ambitious perhaps, but it worked really well. We decided to start the evening with a really good meal at one of Athens top restaurants - 48 The Restaurant. Arriving at a late 11.45pm, the place was really cool, all modern and minimalist inside - which is Anna and I to a T. We shared a delicious octopus carpaccio and setting the scene for the week, we both had fish for dinner - with a good Greek Sauvignon Blanc to wash it all down. Leaving the restaurant we headed out into Kolonaki, a posh part of town with lots of bars and cafes. With luggage in tow, we had a few drinks at a couple of bars, one really cool place with a relaxed atmosphere and chilled-out jazz. We managed to keep this going until 4am when we caught the bus back to the airport (which was crazily busy for 5am in the morning), starting to feel a little weary.

Planning to check out the views on our flight to Santorini, our all-nighter finally took its toll and the only thing either of us can remember from the flight was taking off and landing. Arriving pretty early we were able to rest up at our accommodation (where we stayed in a cave built into the cliffs) and wander the picturesque village of Oia when it was quite empty in the morning. And Santorini is stunning - the land of white-washed walls, sleeping dogs and American tourists. From Oia you always have amazing views over the caldera that is Santorini and the blue and white of the buildings is everything you expect of the Greek Islands. Not surprisingly, we spent the first day relaxing, only venturing down to the little bay of Ammoudi for some very fresh fish and an amazing whole grilled squid. The next day we went on a great walk (about 12kms) from Oia, along the cliffs, to the main town on Santorini, Fira. It was a great way to get a feel for the island and also confirmed to us that Oia was the place to stay. The next day we decided to hire a scooter and tour the island. Unfortunately, they would only rent us a scooter if we had an International Driver's License - I didn't actually think such things existed anymore - so we had to hire a quad-bike instead. Of course, this was the one day in all our holiday that the weather decided to be cloudy and rain a little - not much fun when you are driving around on a quad-bike in only shorts and t-shirt. We had planned to visit some of the beaches around the island, but with the non-compliant weather we decide to visit some of the wineries instead. We ended up picking up a bottle of an award winning Vinsanto (a sweet dessert wine) from the Canava Roussos winery - and with all such purchases, when we actually started drinking it we wished we had bought more but could no longer go back (though at €35 it wasn't cheap for a 375ml bottle, I think there next wine was only €13 - but it was oh so good!). That night the weather put on one last show for us before becoming brilliant fine for the rest of our week, putting on a big electrical storm - what I liked to call "Greece lightning" (and no, I am not a born again T-Bird).

Regretfully we had to leave Santorini the next day - we could have easily stayed another, it was pretty tough getting up each morning and having breakfast served to us looking across the caldera. Taking the ferry that afternoon, where noticeably we seemed to have dropped the American tourists (who probably all fly), we arrived at our next destination, the island of Naxos. In Naxos, we had hired a studio apartment out on a beach on the southern coast of the island. As we were driven out there, it couldn't have been more different to Santorini, we were pretty remote, being driven about 3kms past the closest town along a dirt road. But stunning as Santorini was, Naxos was idyllic. The apartments along our beach (Plaka) stretched out in a row along the 5km beach with just enough tavernas dotted along to keep us well fed. In fact, after initially thinking we would hire a car or a scooter (if they would let us) for the 3 days, we ended up not even hiring a mountain bike and didn't venture any further than our legs would take us. So we didn't get up to much except relax, read, play Euchre, swim, and baste in the sun (well, that last one was more Anna than me). That's not to say we didn't get a little bit of exercise, I decided to swim out to some rocks one day which were a bit further than they looked, and we went for a 4 hour walk along and back a never ending beach the next bay over in search of a taverna we had heard about (which we didn't even find in the end), and of course there was the 30 minute walk to our favourite taverna each night. One comical part of where we were staying was that we were smack bang in nudie central. It was the first morning when we got up, went to the balcony and looked down on the beach that we saw a couple, starkers, playing paddle tennis. In our time there, we saw plenty of other nudists on the beach, erecting tents (no pun intended), picking up stuff, and other activities you don't really want to see elderly nudists getting up to. But all very amusing. The other thing that struck us in our time in Naxos (or our little microcosm of Naxos) was that we never met or heard another English speaker the whole time we were there. In fact, we seemed to have been transported in the world of the German tourist - which does help to explain the nudist thing.

At the end of our 3 days in Naxos we felt very relaxed, and once again, we could have easily stayed another day. But our next destination was a night on the island of Mykonos, which again was very different to the other two islands. Mykonos is known as more of a party island, and we certainly got the feel for this when getting off our ferry, we arrived at the same time as a ferry from Athens and a hoard of 20-somethings. But Mykonos is also very picturesque in the same vein as Santorini, with all the buildings painted in blue and white. With such a short time there, we immediately took off to one of the renown beaches on the southern coast of Mykonos - Super Paradise. Looking around the little boat by which you get to the cove that Super Paradise beach is situated on, surrounded by about 20 young and nubile Greek girls (Anna was there....I think), I knew I was were going to the right place. The beach itself was amazing. In a deep cove, the water was so crystal clear it was hard to believe it was sea water. The beach itself was already filling up and was dominated by groups of young Greeks having a good time. Grabbing ourselves a couple of loungers, and in between swims, we sat back listening to the chilled out tunes coming from the bar at the back of the beach, sipped our beers, and watched the young Greeks posing, posturing and preening (and that's just the guys - waxed legs and all). At about 4pm, the bar turned up the bass and before we knew it there was dancing on the beach and people were starting to congregate back at the bar. Anna and I were just too relaxed now to really get into this, but it looked like you could make a really good night out of it all and I would love to go back there in a big group. So come 6pm, we left the young and the restless to it and got the boat back into town and made the most of the pool (and diving board) back at our hotel. Back in the Mykonos old town that night, we wandered through the attractive narrow lanes and alleys and could not help but notice the number of gay couples were saw (Mykonos is known for being gay-friendly). Despite Mykonos supposedly having some of the best nightlife in Europe, we were still too relaxed to muster up the enthusiasm and we had a relatively early night (though in Greece this is still being out to around 1am), deciding to get up early to take one last swim in the pool before getting the ferry to Athens the next day (though again we wished we could have stayed an extra day).









After much debate, we had decided to try to get to Athens reasonable early the next day, not for any sight-seeing mind you, but to make the most of the hotel we were staying at. Fresh Hotel looked really cool when we booked it - once again stylish and minimalist, a 'design experience' - and we wanted to be able to make the most of the roof top pool. With a bar, chilled-out sounds, and views of the Acropolis, we didn't really need to go anywhere else for the afternoon. After a few cocktails and beers over the sunset, we eventually had to venture out into Athens once more and found our way to a small little restaurant recommended by the Time Out guide that was some of the best food we had on the whole trip. There was no menu - a huge tray of starters was brought out to you and you chose which ones you wanted, and then the mains on offer were read out to you by the waiter. It was a really simple place with great food - and was obviously a popular spot for locals rather than tourists. Bulging with this great dinner, we then went to the Craft Microbrewery Brewpub (see Pub Watch) to try some Greek beers a bit more exciting than the very average 'Mythos' I had been drinking all week.

Not flying out until 7pm the next day, we ventured out into a very hot Athens day to do the obligatory sight-seeing. I always like a good ruin, and Athens has plenty of those in quite a confined area. Athens is definitely a very walkable city, but after doing the circuit of everything we wanted to see - including the Acropolis and the original Olympic Stadium - we decided that the best way to spend our last few hours in Greece was poolside back at our hotel (we didn't want to leave there either).

So....the one word that sums up our trip to the Greek Islands has to be "relaxing". We were so chilled the whole week (and we are still pretty chilled out now), we just wanted to stay longer. You could easily spend months island hopping rather than days. Its a cliche, but each island is amazingly different, but we liked each island equally as much. We had brilliant weather and great food - stuffed calamari, grilled octopus, fresh fresh fish, yummy eggplant, and plenty of Greek salads (and yes, even I was eating the feta - much better than the stuff we get back here at home). It is just going to have to be added to the list of the many places we want to return to....

Pub Watch: Craft (Athens, Greece)

On our night in Athens I had specifically set aside some time to visit the Craft brewpub (http://www.craft.gr/) and at last sample some half-decent Greek beer. The brewpub is conveniently located close to a Metro stop and strikes quite an impression from the outside - all glass front and modern. On the night we went there was a Greek football game on and the downstairs bar was full with Athenians watching the large screen TV. So we headed upstairs to the restaurant area, again stylish with dark lighting. Maybe a little soulless, but it fits in well with a lot of other Athenian modern design and architecture.

But more importantly....the beer. Foolishly, we were paying our visit after enjoying a very large Greek meal which I could foresee as severely limiting my ability to taste their beer. Luckily though, no sooner had we sat down than a tasting tray of their six beers was presented to us. Though not as good as a full pint, it was perfect for a beer-rater with a full stomach. Sipping my way through the six beers, I found them to be of mixed quality. The Bohemian Pilsner was a good starter, being crisp with a clean honey and fruit flavour. The other surprise was seeing they have a Rauchbier, and though they weren't hitting the quality of Bamberg, it still had that unique smoked flavour. The more highly rated Black Lager was OK, but a bit below expectations for me (it is the highest rated Greek beer on ratebeer.com). Both the Hefeweizen and the Red Ale were good efforts, and the Athenian Lager was, well, a lager....

So with tastings consumed, we ordered ourselves a proper drink, myself selecting the Rauchbier and The GrandMistress opting for the Hefeweizen. With bloated stomachs we sipped at our beers, me rueing not coming here before dinner. And then fate, and clumsy hands, confirmed it just wasn't to be, when Anna decided to knock the second half of her pint over herself, the table, the floor and any other object in our near vicinity. Taking this as a sign, I finished up my Rauchbier and called it a night. A shame to be sure, though I think overall both the beers and the brewpub were a little unimaginative, though certainly a step up on the drought of good beer throughout the rest of Greece.