Oooo, James...

"Meesterrr Bond," said in thick Russian accent was one our favourite phrases on the Tran Siberian Express. But, I´m afraid Kathy has been under a terrible strain recently. She was beginning to fear that it would be January before she might see the new James Bond flick and, under the comforting secrecy of a dark cinema, ogle Daniel Craig's biceps pulsating under his tailor made tuxedo. So, our first cultural act of worship in Quito was to pay homage to the local multiplex and a screening of the Quantum of Solace! And very good it was too! When the plot landed in Bolivia and the Russian city of Kazan, we both squealed with the daft conceited excitement of 'we've been there!'
After Quito, we spent 4 days in the tourist town of Banos. We enjoyed the thrill of the gravity cycle tour taking in all the spectacular waterfalls and a 4 hour trek in the local hills.
Next stop was Tena and a day of river rafting on some class 3 rapids. Accompanied by 2 German lassies, the day consisted of lots of squealing, giggling, falling into the water, getting chucked into the wayer and having our legs bitten alive by blinkin sandflies. Their bites are much itchier than mosquitos or midges and we both spent the night tormented by a seething rash of reminders from the little b... blighters. If a cheese grater had been handy, I wouldn't have thought twice...

Film Festival

A list of all the films we have seen whilst traveling. Some were seen in cinemas (denoted C ), some were watched on a tiny screen in our Spaceship campervan in New Zealand (denoted S ), but most were watched at random on buses, trains, planes or on cable tv film channels such as Cinemax, HBO and MGM.

Iron Man (2008, John Favreau) C

Wanted (2008, Tim Bekmambetov) C

Atonement (2007, Joe Wright)

Star Trek: Insurrection (1998, Jonathan Frakes)

Bodyguard from Beijing (1994)

Inside Man (2006, Spike Lee)

Just Like Heaven (2005, Mark Waters)

The Killing Fields (1984, Roland Joffe)

Sex and the City (2008, Michael Patrick King) C

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005, Shane Black)

The Return (2006, Asif Kapadia)

Hot Fuzz (2007, Edgar Wright)

Deja Vu (2006, Tony Scott)

October Sky (1999, Joe Johnston)

Spiderman 3 (2007, Sam Raimi)

Wild Hogs (2007, Walt Becker)

Night at the Museum (2006, Shawn Levy)

Shakespeare in Love (1998, John Madden)

She´s the Man (2006, Andy Fickman)

Sisters (2006, Douglas Buck)

Kingpin (1996, Farrelly brothers)

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008, Steven Spielberg)

Four Brothers (2005, John Singleton)

Gattaca (1997, Andrew Niccol)

He Said, She Said (1991)

Batman Returns (1992, Tim Burton)

Sgt. Bilko (1996, Jonathan Lynn)

Billy Connolly Bites Yer Bum (1981) S

Open Water (2003, Chris Kentis) S

Zodiac (2007, David Fincher) S

The Day After Tomorrow (2004, Roland Emmerich) S

Aliens (1986, James Cameron)

Bad Timing (1980, Nicolas Roeg) S

The Dark Knight (2008, Christopher Nolan) C

What Happens in Vegas (2008, Tom Vaughan)

Star Trek: First Contact (1996, Jonathan Frakes) S

The Final Cut (2004, Alan Hakman) S

Gothika (2003, Mathieu Kassovitz) S

Don't Mess with the Zohan (2008, Dennis Dugan)

Cassandra's Dream (2007, Woddy Allen) C

Changing Lanes (2002, Roger Michell)

American Dreamz (2006, Paul Weitz)

Take the Lead (2006, Liz Friedlander)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006, Gore Verbinski)

Hearts in Madison

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002, Peter Jackson) S

Meet The Fockers (2004, Jay Roach)

Identity (2003, James Mangold)

The Black Dhalia (2006, Brian De Palma)

The Omen (1976, Richard Donner)

War (2007, Phillip. G. Atwell)

The Beach (2000, Danny Boyle)

The Pursuit of Happyness (2006, Gabriele Muccino)

Reservation Road (2007, Terry George) C

James Bond: The Quantum of Solace (2008) C

Frost Nixon C

Milk C


Martial Arts Film Kunming C


Who Wants to be a millionaire film houston C

Reading list

A list of all the books we have read whilst traveling. A denotes that only Athole read this book. K denotes that only Kathy read this book. What can I say, she prefers the idea of tucking into bed with Alistair Campbell, whereas I prefer to go for Bez. Ha ha ha...


Ian Banks - The Steep Approach to Garbadale

Ian Banks - Song of Stone A

Arthur Conan Doyle - Hound of the Baskervilles

Lloyd Jones- Mister Pip

Charles Dickens - Great Expectations A

John Cleland- Fanny Hill A

Jules Verne - 80 Days Around the World

Jules Verne - 5 Weeks in a Balloon

Amistead Maupin - Tales of the City

Khaled Hosseini - The Kite Runner

Jon Swaine - River of Time

J.G. Farrell - The Seige of Krishnapur A

Loung Ung - First They Killed My Father

David Chandler - Big Brother Number 1

Graham Greene - The Quiet American

Bez - Freaky Dancin' A

John Wyndham - The Midwich Cuckoos

William Trevor - A Bit on the Side

Anne Tyler - A Patchwork Planet

Rose Tremain - The Colour A

James Meek - The People's Act of Love

Anthony Bourdain - A Cook's Tour

Ian McEwan - On Chesil Beach

Graham Greene - Travels With My Aunt

Anthony Bourdain - A Bone in the Throat

Steve Turner - The Man Called Cash (Johnny Cash biography) A

Zadie Smith - The Autograph Man

Claire Tomalin - The Life of Thomas Hardy K

George Orwell - Animal Farm (in French) K

Alistair Campbell - The Blair Years K

Jean Rhys - Wide Sargaso Sea K

Daniel Defoe - Robinson Crusoe K

Anne Tyler - Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

J.G. Farrell - The Singapore Grip

Kurt Vonnegut - Galapagos

Peter Carey - Jack Maggs

Ian M. Banks - Use of Weapons

Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Strange Pilgrims

Irvine Welsh - The Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs

The flight of the condor and Colca Canyon

After the many highs of Machu Picchu, we travelled next to the deep, deep gorge of the Colca Canyon, the deepest canyon in the world. On the way, we stopped off at the Cruz Del Condor and watched with wonder as those huge birds glided effortlessly above our heads, their massive wingspan cloaking the hillside in shadow as they swept through the sky.
We stopped for a few days in the sleepy, dusty haven of Cobanaconde. My kind of town. The Hostal Del Fuego was a a warm andf friendly refuge. Unfortunately, I fell victim again to the fury of the God of Poo. Kathy visited the oasis at the bottom of the canyon on her own. There they have pools and palm trees. Still gripped by the Incan God of Mentalism, she made the return trip not long after midday. The Hostal owner and his friend were amazed at the speed of her journey. The friend even asked her if she had been aided by mules on her trek. He wasn´t joking!

Machu Picchu (part 2): "not aliens, guys!"

During the trek, Kathy became possessed by the Incan God of Mentalism. When hill walking, I usually lead on the way up and she leads on the descent. On the Inca Trail, however, I just couldn´t meet her pace; going up or down! Only English Gary was her match. Infact, he became her nemesis. Gary liked to let her go off infront and then command ridiculous amounts of competitive strength to catch up with her, sometimes even carrying two rucksacks. Nutters, the both of them. "Maybe too much coca leaves, guys?" As Freddy often said.
On the 4th and final day, Kathy trounced the lot of us in the morning race to the Sun Gate. The Sun Gate lies in the hills above Machu Picchu. On the shortest and longest days of the year, the sun shines through the gate and beams down in a straight line to the Temple of the Sun in Machu Picchu; it shines through the window and lands exactly on a prescribed spot in the middle of the floor. It is not something from the pages of Indiana Jones, it is Indiana Jones. Without the snakes. And with llamas.
"But not aliens, guys, not aliens!" As Freddy would constantly remind us. "People like Mr Miguel built this place. Clever people. They knew all about the stars."
We were told that the sunrise through the Sun Gate would be at about 6.20am (as it happens we arrived too late, but it didn´t matter). The Family left the base camp at 5.30am and were told we had just enough time to make it for the sun´s brand new day. As the boom from the starting pistol resounded off the ancient hills (only Kathy and Gary actually heard this, the rest of us were still waking up...), Kathy was off! She was completely unstoppable, a lightning fast hare darting her way to the mythical prize of the Sun Gate. Christian (who is 22 and in the US Airforce) and myself did our best to keep up with the scorching pace. But she was moving too fast, it was impossible. Even Gary was a beaten man. I have a clear and demoralizing memory of looking up at the Monkey Steps, a tall flight of painfully steep steps inches away from the Sun Gate itself, to glimpse Kathy disappear nimbly over the top, just as the chasing pack had reached the bottom.
When I finally walked through the Sun Gate, Kathy was waiting with outstretched arms and a sweaty smiling face. Below was Machu Picchu. How can I describe the moment? We were all exhausted. 4 days, 45 km and one shameful game of footie had finally caught up with us. The emotion struck us all dumb. It seemed an age that we all sat there looking down at the famous ancient ruins, calmly soaking its old stone limbs in the warm pool of the morning sun. Nothing was said between us except for a string of contented smiles.
The Family walked around Machu Picchu in a bit of a daze. Freddy enthused passionately about the architecture and egineering skills of the former inhabitants. "Remember guys, no aliens!" There were other people there too. They had come by bus. "Lazy tourists, guys," frowned Freddy. The Family growled at these outsiders with distrust. We felt like they didn´t deserve to be here, like they didn´t belong. What had they sacrificed to Pachamama? One middle aged tourist in a lurid flowery blouse, pulled the neck line over her shoulders and sprawled herself over a part of the ruins, posing for the camera. The collective jaws of The Family clunked to the floor in astonishment. That was perhaps taking the notion of sacrifice too literally. Canadian Mike nicknamed her ´Machu Pornshow.´
Whe Bob and his wife had visited the ruins in 1972 there had only been another 12 people there. After 11.30, when the tourist train arrives from Cuzco, there would be some 2000 people clambering amongst the ruins. The Family was long gone before then...

It was an unforgettable 4 days. Please go, if you can. And don´t be a lazy tourist. Don´t take the train. Take to the hills and earn your passage through the Sun Gate.
For Freddy. For William. For the cooks. For the porters.
For The Family.
"For Pachamama, guys. For Pachamama!"

It still brings tears to my eyes...

Machu Picchu (part 1): it's a family affair

"We are family guys!" That was the proclamation from Freddy, our guide, before we set off.
It was the morning after the night before. With only 4 hours sleep under our pillows, it was time to begin yet another big adventure; a four day trek along the Inca Trail to the mystcal mountain palace of the Incas, Machu Picchu. It was an expedition that would require Victorian era planning and resources. The Family was 16 tourists, 2 cooks, 21 native porters and our guides, Freddy and William. By the time we stepped through the Sun Gate at 6.20am on the 4th day, watching spellbound as the shadow blanket was slowly dragged across the hills below our feet, revealing Machu Picchu in all its sleepy, early morning reverie; we really felt like a family. " For Pachamama, guys!"
The porters displayed Herculean feats of strength and hospitality over the 4 days. As we, the tourists, willed our bodies up the steep climbs, they raced past us carrying loads of up t 20kg. Morning tea, lunch and dinner was always set up and waiting for us under tents with tables, chairs and cutlery all neatly arranged. The porters even formed a finish line and clapped and applauded our every arrival. The head porter, Miguel, is 63. He was as fit, wiry and lean as an Andean fox. The cooks conjured up amazing things from the meagre camping stoves like pizza and cake. And every day we looked forward to a new variant of delicious homemade soup. There is no other word for it, AWSOME!
It was also a remarkable trip because of the personal reasons and biographies that had brought each of The Family members to be there.
Eilleen, from Canada, was celebrating her 65th birthday. 4 of her children (she has 8 in total) and Katie's boyfriend Mike, escorted, pushed and motivated her all the way to the finish. William, the guide, kept their spirits going all the way, with a little help from trail nuts laced with M&Ms!
Bob (65) and Jeff, a father and son duo from Chicago, wee there to remember a wife and mother passed away in 2006. Bob and his wife spent the years from 1969-72 working for the Peace Corps in Peru, building schools and falling in love with the country. They were even married there. Bob, like Eilleen, ploughed up the hills with a stoic determination that reminded me of my own proud, "I{ll do it my way!" old bugger of a dad!
Jeff was a true gent, a scholar of Bill Murray and Chevy Chase and one of the funnniest men I{ve met in a long time!
The Sassenachs were out in force too. Martin had dreamt of visiting Machu Picchu ever since he was a lad. Recruited on his mission were his close mate Gary, his son Christian and his son's friend Alun.
Katheryn and Rory were there wildly detouring en route to a new life in Vancouver, Canada. Previously, they had bought an RV the size of a semi-detatched house and motored their way around the States for 3 months. Katheryn, a nurse, had a job awaiting her in the new year. Rory was abandoning his life as a super intelligent radar geek to start a new career as a seaplane pilot. Cool!
And that just leaves little old us. At this point in time traveling has become our life. What else is there to say?
Over the 4 days The Family learnt a lot from Freddy about Incan history and the deep spirituality of the local Quechuan people. We learnt how there are 3 levels to Incan beliefs. Condors at the top, Pumas in the middle and snakes at the bottom. Cuzco is the naval, the centre of the universe. Cuzco is shaped as a puma and Mach Pichu is shaped as a condor.
"For Pachamama, guys!" Every drink from chi cha (corn beer, sour and a bit mingin) to water had to be spilled on the ground before drinking, to pay respects to Pachamama (Mother Earth). At the end of the 2nd day, an arduous climb equal to the height of Ben Nevis, The Family shared a ceremony at the top to give thanks to Pachamama. A cairn was built, coca leaves buried at the base and Pisco brandy spilled over the top. My dad does the same thing with a hip flask of rusty nail when he reaches the summit of a hill; except he never spills a drop! Pachamama was evidently listening as the weather stayed fair for all four days. Not bad considering this was the rainy season.
On the first night Freddy challenged The Family to a game of football against the porters. After 10 mins of charging about at high altitude you are absolutely knackered. Only Mike, the young Canadian, managed to last the pace and that was mainly because the rest of us refused to sub him in our hyperventilating states. Needless to say, we lost. Heavily.

(I am) Everyday People

November 4th, 2008: US Election Night. A couch in the Casa Campasino, Cuzco. A clay oven baked takeaway pizza. Two bottles of Inca Kola. A twix. A snickers. Tuned to BBC World Service TV. David Dimbleby at the helm. Kathy there last time around. With Ken MacDonald. She wore a red stetson. The fridge at home covered in magnetic memories. Points of place. "A village in Texas has lost its idiot," one reads. To prove aonther point. Kathy´s excitement is uncontainable. She wriggles and squirms, blurts out facts, figures; makes noises of disapproval and sage nods of agreement. John Bolton recites his own Satanic verses. A colossal brute. Obama is a left-wing radical. He generalises. The BBC are incompetent left-leaning hacks. He generalises some more. The panel seem nervous but David is calm. The ship is steered deftly into neutral waters again. The results are slow. The new touch screen graphics a bit crap. We wait. David fills. Switch to New York. Cocktail politics. Ricky Gervais. Eddy Izzard. 2 bloggers. Not sexy. Talking drivel. David reels it in. Back to the studio. Serious chat.
Suddenly. New Mexico votes for Obama. They never get it wrong. Obama begins to stack them up. Oven chips are off the menu, sir. Kenya anounces a national holiday.
McCain´s concession speech is eloquent and touching. A park in Chicago awaits.

The turntables might wobble but they don´t fall down.

Obama appears. He looks formidable. Strong, tall, confident, black. Yes we can. He offers hope and puppies for his daughters. Bribery and optimism: classic teaching tactics. Yes we can. Oprah is there, hugging the shoulders of the person in front. Big eyes. The Rev. Jessie Jackson is there too. In tears. Who can blame him? We are both in tears. Yes we can. Is it real? Or is it just Hollywood? One hell of a speech, all the same. Am I being foolish? Am I being naive? I want to believe. Will puppies work in Iraq?

Different strokes for different folks.
And so on and so on
And scooby dooby doo...

Bring the noise! (turn it up)

Her name was Kathy, she was a Weegee...

At the Copa - Copacabana... During our entire time staying at the small Bolivian town on the edge of Lake Titicaca, it was impossible to lose the silky tones of old Barry ´the nose´ Manilow. Yeah, I know he is infact crooning about the one in Brasil, but still... It is a lovely wee place, quiet and relaxing after the intense noise of La Paz. You can see the Bolivian Navy out in full strength. They have a wooden hut and a sentry guard but the only sign of boats are the tourist ferries and Donald Duck paddlers edging the shore. We boarded one of the ferries to the the Isla Del Sol, the island where the mythical Manco Capac (and his sister), the founder of the Incas, is said to have merged from. Very pleasant it was too.
From Copa... (see if you can´t stop yourself singing along now!) we crossed the border into Peru and the town of Puno. We were just in time for Halloween. Unfortunately, they have imported the same American model that the kids at home prefer these days too. Only 2 handmade costumes were spotted and there was certainly no signs of the 30min routine I was made to rehearse and perform on doorsteps before I would even dare asking for a sweet or two. Good fun all the same. The next 2 days were the traditional All Souls day, where families take flowers to the cemetaries to remember their deceased relatives. As a result, the town was fairly quiet. However, in the afternoon we chanced upon a local 6 aside tournament. Of course, we did the right thing; bought some empanadas (pies!), Inca Kola (Irn Bru!) and settled ourselves down for a hugely entertaining afternoon of footie!

Back in 1947 a motley crew of adventurers, bored now that the high adrenalin challenges of WW2 combat were behind them, set out on a high seas adventure across the Pacific. Their skipper was a Norwegian called Thor Heyerdahl and their boat called the Kon-tiki was a raft made entirely out of balsa wood and native Peruvian materials. Thor wanted to prove that it was possible that the first settlers to South America migrated from the Polynesian islands. He used expert raft builders from Lake Titicaca to construct the raft using ancient Incan methods. The journey was a success but his theories remain controversial.
Even further back in 1862, a grand British party of mules and men began transporting the 2766 pieces of British made ship metal from the port of Arica to Lake Titicaca, some 3810m above sea level. Put together, the 210 tons of finest Victorian engineering would assemble two ships, the Yavuri and the Yapura. Sadly, someone forgot to pack the Airfix instructions and someone else underestimated the magnitude of the hostile political and environmental landscape that lay ahead of them. Some 8 years later, on Christmas Day 1870, the Yavuri was finally launched onto Lake Titicaca. The Yapura made it a few years later but, indignant at being left behind, changed its name to the Puno.For the last 12 years a crew, led by Captain Carlos Saavedra and an endearingly eccentric Britsh lady called Meriel Larkin, have been painstakingly restoring the ship. Meriel Larkin´s family were former Clyde shipbuilders. When we visited it, it was weeks away from being finished. The Captain was extemely proud. Learning of our Scottish roots he pointed out that all the ship´s instruments were made in Leith. And there was another ship rusting in the port, called the Coya, that was made in Dumbarton! It is quite a story and the restoration work is beautiful.
The Captain now plans to retire by touring the world for 10 years. His itenary was vast, obscure and made our escapade seem like a skip through the Meadows in Edinburgh. What did stand out was the part where he plans to tour the Stans and learn Russian. A remarkable man and a remarkable ship.
I wonder if, a 1000 years from now, the remnants of these British built ships will inspire future ethnologists into crazed expeditions tracing the possible migration of peoples from Victorian Britain to Peru? Sadly, the relatively short lived art of Clyde shipbuilding doesn´t look like it will last that long for anyone to pass on to the future ethnologist just how they did it. Well, there´s always the internet. :-(

On a brighter note, we saw our first batch of live, wild guinea pigs running around on the grass on the shore next to the ship. How cool is that?!