Friday, August 8

Location: Cuzco, Peru

Today's weather: 16░C.

Today was another boring day without much to report – unless you want to here details about hours spent in front of a computer keyboard. But it was worth it 'cos the diary is uptodate at last and uploaded.

In the afternoon I walked down to a company called Expeditiones Manu who would be taking me on my trek through Manu Reserve. The guide was there, and he showed me on a map where we would be travelling and explained the things that I needed to take with me. I would need a sleeping bag, which I could hire (I actually brought one with me from NZ, but left it behind in Porto Alegre because it was too bulky to carry all the way around the Amazon with me). In addition I would need to buy a pair of rubber boots (for walking through wet areas) and a bigger torch because some of the walking would be at night and I'd have to be careful of what I stepped on in the forest. I made arrangements to meet the guide at 1pm the next day so that he could take me shopping and give me his recommendations. Expeditiones Manu was owned by an English immigrant called Barry Walker, who was the local bird watching expert in the the area and who was trying hard to persuade local tour operators to use environmentally-friendly approaches on their expeditions. The guide who was to be taking me on this tour emphasised that they wouldn't be doing anything to harm or scare the animals that we encountered, whereas some other operators in the area weren't so considerate.

Barry Walker also owns a local pub called the CrossKeys which is decorated in the style of a traditional English pub (perhaps Barry's cure for homesickness), with soccer memorabilia and even a signed t-shirt from Monty Python's Eric Idle. Not surprisingly, the CrossKeys is a favourite haunt for the English tourists visiting Cuzco.

In the evening I got the last of my diary notes uploaded to the web, and for the first time in days received no email (sigh). Afterwards, I walked back to my hostel – stopping off at Bella Italia restaurant. I was a little tired of hamburguesa, and had a sudden craving for Lasagne or something Italian. I had walked past the restaurant many times and knew the owner by sight because she was usually standing outside handing out leaflets. Often when I walked past she would smile and nod "Hola" (Hello). Tonight, for the first time ever, I actually saw people inside the restaurant – which made me feel good for the owner because I know that she had been working very had to set things up.

Once inside, I ordered a big serving of lasagne. It came out 15 minutes later, along with complementary bread buns and pisco (a local spirit, which was a little too strong for my tastes), and a bottle of Peruvian beer. The lasagne was delicious ... up until this moment, the best lasagne that I'd ever tasted was the one regularly made by one of my former flatmates, called Shane. But (with apologies to Shane) this lasagne was by far superior – delicious and very well presented with garnishings and other decorations. About half-way through my meal a whole crowd of people walked in, who seemed to be speaking in Italian. They sat down and ordered big meals also. I felt very glad for the owner because it seemed, at last, that her hard work was paying off. Everyone appeared to be enjoying their meals very much. The bill for my meal was 26 soles, or about $NZ 15 – which I thought was quite cheap.