Peru and Chile

Having researched Chile we realised it was pretty expensive so we decided to head to Peru for a few days instead. Conveniently there was another Wild Rover in Arequipa and we managed to work it so we were there for St Patrick's Day. This wild rover was a lot smaller than La Paz but just as much fun. We got there on the first night and once again got roped into playing dice. It wasn't long before I was once again on the bar dancing to the Spice Girls thinking I looked really cool (I definitely didn't). I took myself to bed that night after too many tequilas but then woke up at 6am the next morning because I could smell vomit. It wasn't long before I realised the smell was coming from next to me and far a moment of worrying that I'd been so drunk I didn't remember being sick, I realised it was actually Sam who had thrown up from his top bunk all over my bed and shoes. Cheers Sammy!




The next day was a big day- Wales Vs England. Becky and I began the trash talking pretty early and I was over the moon when it turned out to be the BEST DAY EVERRRRRR! There was me in my welsh top, the welsh bar man and loads of English as we watched Wales absolutely smash England. I was so proud and was completely ungraceful in rubbing our victory in their faces! Soooo good. It's safe to say that night was going to be inevitably messy. Post-match Becky and I were somehow roped in to hand out flyers for the Paddy's Day party so we headed off for an hour. Such a sweet deal! We were given free tshirts and a free night at the hostel just to hand out flyers to any gringos we saw in the centre- we only found about ten people! Eaaaasy!




That night Becca was appointed official face painter with Becky and I as her helpers. Becky was shit though so she got demoted to publicity and sent people our way. The more shots we consumed, the messier the face painting got and there ended up being a paint fight where we got COVERED from head to toe. We couldn't get the paint out of our hair for days and it is still all over our clothes. In honour of St Patrick's Day they had brought in an actual midget dressed up as a leprechaun and dancing on the bar. He was such a legend! Everyone ended up grinding with him on the bar as I stood on the bar pouring free shots into everyone's mouths. it was soon after that the paint fight began to unfold. God only knows what happened later that night but all I know is I'm a drunk genius because I was over the moon to discover I had hidden a sandwich under my bed for the next morning's hangover- winner!




The next morning was actually St Patrick's Day and we were practically forced to start drinking at midday. Ben the bar man made some hideous green shots and went round the rooms and showers pouring them into people's mouths. We were feeling extremely fragile and had to escape to avoid drinking. Becky took us on the sight seeing tour she had been excited about for weeks (she had been to Arequipa before) but we walked for miles to find out everything was closed- typical. We got back to the hostel, dressed ourselves from head to toe in green and got back on it trying to pretend we weren't feeling sick. There was a live band and everyone was dancing and singing along. rage against the machine came on and I was just casually singing along thinking i was a rocker when a girl shoved the mic n my face and told me to embrace my femininity and to sing for women everywhere- slightly bizarre. Later turns out that the girl, Kirsty, threw up 6 times all over her bedroom floor! Next thing I remember I was being woken up by Becca telling me that Becky was asking for me as if she was on her death bed or something. I went with her and found Becky balling her eyes out with an ice pack on her face because she'd been punched trying to break up what she thought was a rape! She had heard a girl screaming with a guy and everyone was just brushing it off saying she always did it so it was Becky to the rescue and she ended up with a fist to the cheek. MENTAL.




We once again were leaving wild rover hungover, minus a cardigan and hair doughnut and feeling like we'd been hit by a bus. A border crossing was the last thing we wanted to do but we set off to Tacna and luckily we smoothly got across to Arica. Our flight to Santiago was at 6 in the morning so there was no point us getting a room so we got a taxi to the centre and got a Chinese. BIG MISTAKE. We weren't very well at all pretty much immediately. We then got a cab with this legend of a guy to the airport. He had this app on his phone where you speak in Spanish and it translates it into English and vice versa. We had to do this all the way whilst he played English songs and asked us to explain all the lyrics. It was getting tedious because we were so tired but he was a laugh. After a few hours sleep on the airport floor we boarded our flight and arrived in Santiago.

We were booked into a hostel called Terra Extremus and we met a guy from La Paz called Sean there too. When we arrived our room was full of smelly, hungover boys and we had to go on top bunks. To my horror there were no ladders so my short self had serious issues getting up. Any attempts to be graceful were abandoned almost immediately. We had a quick nap then went out to get food. Becky wasn't feeling well so went back while Sean and I found a bar with happy hour and had loads of cocktails. We got back to the hostel in time for the free half an hour of beer then went out again for more cocktails. When we got back we were met with a distressed Becky. She'd gone to bed at 8 and was still not asleep for a number of reasons. About three different couples had had sex in the room, one against her very wobbly bunk as Becky held on for her life, a kiwi guy had woken her up to ask for a condom, people were casually doing cocaine in the corner and having a naked party with music in the middle of the room. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry- too funny.




The next day we walked around Santiago doing all the tourist stuff and shopping. It was such a weird feeling knowing that it was our last day in South America, time has flown by. We were both excited to go to New York but also quite sad to be leaving. I had been so nervous about going to South America and hadn't been sure what to expect but I absolutely loved it and can't wait to return. I met some amazing people, saw some beautiful sights and did some crazy things- I'm not sure anything will compare to the experience.


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Bolivia

Santa Cruz

Our hostel in Santa Cruz was absolutely amazing and I'd recommend anyone stay there. It was called Jodanga and there was a pool (might have turned Becky's hair green but hey), happy hour and you even got eggs for breakfast! We met a good group of people including some Kiwi boys and played Grand National and a game called Mafia. I'd never played it before but it's like wink murder, but you have to lie and try and convince people you're a civilian and don't have a Mafia card (my spy skills clearly made this really easy for me- ha). We all were pretty tipsy and Becky was told she would need proper shoes, not flip flops, to get in. A really nice Brazilian lady so kindly gave Becky a beautiful pair of high fashion, bright blue jelly shoes to wear. They should seriously be a staple in every girl's wardrobe but Becky was SO ungrateful and left them (on purpose) in La Paz. I'm gutted, they were just so nice.




We squished as many as we could in a taxi and headed out to a few bars. The first was a really cool Sheesha bar where we all sat and chatted. We decided we wanted to dance so went looking for another bar. The next one we went in was really hidden and you had to knock a door to eventually get in. The woman was off her face which should have been a clue but we paid and went In anyway. It was the most surreal place i have ever been to. It was a house with a garden where everyone but us was on drugs and dancing like they were in space. It was like being at the hippy bit of Glastonbury again but in Bolivia. If you made any sudden movements the person near you would jump out of their skin and cause mass panic for all of two seconds before they forgot and went back to their dancing. Safe to stay we didn't stay long! We got our money back and headed to a bar that had a Bolivian band playing. I had never heard of them but they had some pretty hard core fans!

As well as bars and night clubs, Santa Cruz had a beautiful centre. There was a beautiful square with a cathedral, a market, parks and, most importantly, an Irish pub! It was really weird though because everywhere we chose to eat seemed to have some sort of Charlie Chalk's esque play area. It was so hard to fight the temptation to jump into the ball pool.




Sucre

After a few days in Santa Cruz we headed to Sucre which is the chocolate capital of Bolivia apparently. It was so beautiful and had some gorgeous churches. We did a tour of a,few but one in particular was awesome. The guy took us up onto the roof and into the tombs below the buildings. It was so scary! There was also an amazing restaurant where I had the best carbonara of my life.




Uyuni and the Salt Flats

After Sucre we headed to Uyuni to book our Salt Flats tour. We checked into our hostel quite late at night and when we were showed to our dorm there was already someone sleeping there. In my tired state I assumed it was a German/Dutch/Swedish guy because all I could see was what I thought was blonde hair. How wrong I was. I got in to my bunk was just about falling asleep when the guy rolled over and it was an old man! Why on earth would an old man stay in a dorm?! Was not expecting that at all. Becca saw the look of horror on my face and it was so hard to hide our giggles. The guys was an American called Barry and he was lovely but my God could he talk. I got stuck in the corridor talking to him as he listed all the Welsh people he had ever met. I didn't mind at first but ten minutes and about twelve names later I had lost all interest.

Anyway, the main reason we were in Uyuni was to book our tour. We were won over by a woman who said we'd be in a jeep with two other British boys and was going on about how it would be three lovely girls and three lovely boys. This won us over because by this point poor Sammy had been on his own with us three girls for so long and we thought he'd appreciate male company. We got up the next morning and waited eagerly to find out who the other two in our group would be. As the clock ticked away, our options got more and more limited. There were a lovey-dovey couple, two Spanish hippy girls or sow Japanese people. Where were our British boys?! Our jeep finally arrived with a really moody Argentinian couple already on board. I don't think I saw them smile once. Our driver, Edwin, was an absolute legend though! He encouraged us to play music and sing along much to the couple's dismay. Edwin was loving it though and he gave us sweets and the meals we had were awesome. The salt flats were absolutely breath taking. We rode on top of the jeep across the salt desert and took loads of photos. We got a bit too creative and tried to use my passport but ended up chasing my Bolivian visa across the salt which we retrieved luckily. Other highlights included seeing lamas, flamingos, coloured lagoons, geysers and aquas calientes. It was so amazing to bathe in warm water in the middle of the Bolivian mountains.












La Paz

Blank. We had our first experience of the Wild Rover Hostels and can't really remember much. It involved a lot of games of dice where you throw two dive and whoever gets the lowest buys everyone playing a shot of their choice. Shots of baby Guinness, Fermet and whiskey later, it's pretty obvious why we don't remember. We danced on the bar, had copious amounts of free shots and lost pretty much all our belongings including our dignity. Lethal!




Somehow we were convinced to sign up to cycle death road. If you research it, it tells you not to do it between December and January or on a hangover, so guess what? We did exactly the opposite. We got up at obscene o'clock and set off to the top of death road. It was still pretty dark and we were less than prepared. We looked RIDICULOUS. I was covering as much of my face as possible with huge sunglasses to hide from the world, Becca was wearing Becky's free jelly shoes and Becky had had about 30 minutes sleep after having helped a naked guy (I won't mention names) wandering around the hostel in the middle of the night. We started the descent on the 'easy bit'. Nothing about it was easy. In fact when we got to the rest point, all of us wanted to cry. We were soaking, frozen, couldn't see more than a metre in front of us, Becca had thrown up in her helmet, I wanted to die, the boys were trying to convince each other to give up and we hadn't even got to the hard bit. Luckily the hail and rain cleared and the rest of the day was dry. We all successfully got all the way down the bumpy cliff edges and rewarded ourselves with beers when we got to the end. The pain wasn't over! I couldn't straighten my fingers because I'd gripped the brakes so hard and my arse, Jesus I couldn't sit properly for days because the seats were so uncomfortable. Cheap massages in Asia couldn't come soon enough!




The other time I ventured out of the hostel bubble was to go for a curry- typical Brits abroad. The curry house was renowned for having the spiciest Vindaloo in South America and Stephen, one of the boys we were with, spent the whole afternoon harping on about how he'd eat it with no trouble. We got there and even the waiters were warning him off it because it contained 40 whole chillies but he ordered it nonetheless. I have never seen a guy sweat so much in my life! I tried THE tiniest bit and my mouth was on fire. I don't know how he did it but somehow, after about ten attempts he ate the whole thing and got the t-shirt before eating a whole pack of Becky's gaviscon whilst he insisted he felt fine. We got back to the hostel bar and you could smell him before you saw him. Funnily enough he went to bed early that night, can't imagine why!




Copacabana

After La Paz we decided we needed a few days to recover after Wild Rover as we all felt physically and mentally broken. We went to Copacabana on Lake Titicaca where we planned to go to Isla de Sol and relax. Beck and i got really excited at the prospect of pedalos so rented one and had a romantic half an hour pedalling away on the beautiful Lake Titicaca looking like massively oversized children.




There was a power cut across Copacabana the next morning so none of us could get any money out at all. Luckily Sammy had some we exchanged some pounds we had for really shit rates and borrowed from Sam until we could get some. Unfortunately this meant that Becky's laundry she had put in the night before wouldn't be ready. This also meant that the laundrette closed! They'd left the shutter a tiny bit open but no one was there. Our boat was leaving in half an hour and operation roll under shutters went underway in true espionage style. Wet washing retrieved- mission accomplished.




Sun Island

Later that afternoon we got to Isla de Sol and were astounded to be confronted with a massive mountain. Thanks for he heads up guys in La Paz. There were no cars or anything modern at all just lamas and donkeys. We had to climb this mountain with all our bags, including Bill. It was not a pleasant experience, especially at altitude and in the fragile states we were in post La Paz. Cue massive hissy fit/panic attack from me (love being dramatic I do). Anyway we got to the top and collapsed in chairs looking out on the most amazing views. Two Aussie guys we met in La Paz were there and were the best examples of short man syndrome I've beer encountered. They were going on about all their laddy experiences in Wild Rover and how many girls they'd shagged. I'm not being funny but one of them was my height and the other had a casual rainbow braid on he back of his head. Totally believable... NOT.




The next day we went on the '4 hour walk' around the island. The name Sun Island makes you think beaches and cocktails so we weren't expecting the hiking involved in the island's activities. We got the boat to the north side of the island as the Aussie boys 'ran it in 1h20'. pfffft as if! Anyway we set out on our trek with handbags and sandals looking like right knobs. It definitely took us more than four hours and at every check point we seemed to have to pay more money to get to the next stage but it was so worth it. The views were incredible and we saw Inca ruins and a sacrificing table that they used to sacrifice little girls on- so eery. At one point we stopped to get water and cookie rations and carried on our merry way when ten minutes later we heard a instant wailing. We turned round to see. Tiny Olivia's woman from the shop chasing father her. Becky went back a bit to meet her and we opulent tell if she was giving birth or what but she was in distress. She started counting out pebbles and telling us we owed her money. She'd struggled to add up what we owed her at the stall so we guessed it was something to do with that. We gave her some money just so we could get moving and I still don't really know what we gave her money for. We kept going and finished the walk in about 5 hours and were absolutely nackered. Straight to bed for me!




Bolivia was such an amazing experience. It was so different to Brazil and Argentina and so cheap! The highlights for me were definitely the Salt flats and La Paz and the people were just so nice. The untrue is still pretty much untouched and all the women still wore traditional clothing and carried their babies in coloured scarves on their back. A culture shock but still a fantastic experience.


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Buzios and the escape to Bolivia

After a hectic week in Rio, we decided we deserved a much-needed break because its such a hard life. So, Becky, Adriana and I headed to Buzios, a coastal town north of Rio for a week of R&R. We booked three nights in a hostel called Phoenix and the rest in Nomad Hostel.

Once we arrived, we made our way to Phoenix and were pleasantly surprised having expected this one to be the worst of the two. We were greeted by a scary cleaner who didn't really have a clue what was going on but nevertheless showed us to our room. SINGLE BEDS!! Never did I think this would be such a luxury having moaned about my single bed at home for the last however many years (Mum, this does not mean I have come to terms with Emma having the big bed, it's just better than bunk beds). We dumped our stuff and went to chill out by the pool where we discovered the hostel's pet dog Phoenix and their tortoise just casually milling around the pool. Both were so cute. By the pool we met a British guy called Shay who decided to come for a wander with us around the town. As it was Valentine's Day, we planned to cook a nice meal and celebrate being lonely hearts on tour. We bought a kilo of meat and rice and vegetables for the four of us and Shay's friend Alex and Adriana cooked up a feast. Oh my God it was so good. We sat by the pool with some beers, chatting about life, eating shed-loads and being mentally scarred by sorties of Shay's Cambodian all-over body scrub experiences. I'll spare you the details.




The next day, Becky and I were casually checking facebook by the pool when we noticed Tom and Jake were also in Buzios (they have taken to following us everywhere- ha). We both got over-excited and arranged for them to come over that night. We had a few drinks, played stupid games and a group of us headed in to town. We went to a few bars but it was gradually getting more and more expensive so Becky, Tom, Jake and I went to the shop, bought a bottle of vodka and drank it on the beach. Becky McCougarson was particularly merry, accentuated when she dropped the bottle of coke, opened it straight away, sprayed it all over herself then ran into the sea fully clothed in an attempt to rectify the situation. Can't say it worked really. Post-vodka we wandered in search of another bar. Tom and I left Becky to her cradle-snatching with Jake and made some new friends in the form of a 50+ couple. The husband was from Scotland and the wife was Brazilian ad they loved me. I was on champagne cocktails all night and didn't spend a penny. Tom wasn't having such a great time. I only became aware of this when Tom grasped my shoulder in panic because he was so drunk he was terrified he would drop his drink. Bless him! He's going to need to man-up before uni! After Blue Martini we headed to a club which had a really weird system. You had to wait outside until a black door opened and a bouncer let you in one at a time, searched you, then shepherded you to a desk. Here you had to give your details in exchange for a card to be used to buy all your drinks, then you had to queue to get out to check if you owed anything. An absolutely ridiculous system if you ask me. This is also apparently partly responsible for the tragic deaths of all the people in he nightclub in Brazil- the bouncers wouldn't let people leave in case they hadn't paid their bill. Anyway, the four of us rocked up in this weird club with a tree in the middle of it. The men in there were so strange! They'd come up to you, lift up their tops and just like gyrate heir hips at you. Literally the most bizarre thing ever. What about that is even he slightest bit attractive? Freaks they were. Particularly the guy who was trying to follow me home saying he loved me. It'ssSafe to say we legged it on to a bus and got home as he sun was rising. It's safe to say we've felt better than we did the next day.







On day four, we moved to Nomad hostel which was in the centre of town and right on the beach. The view was absolutely breathtaking and you could wander down some stairs to the beach from the sun terrace by the bar- pure bliss. We spent our days chilling on the beach and wandering through town. One afternoon Becky, Tom, Jake and I took a boat trip to the nearby islands. We got a cheap one which boasted free drinks for about a tenner so were pretty chuffed. However once we got on, we had no idea what the tour guide said and were supplied with warm glasses of knock off coke and water. Typical Brazilian fibs! The islands were beautiful though and we swam in the sea with sea turtles as Jake and Tom tried to out-tan each other (we beat them both).




We went out once more whilst in Buzios and ended up in a bar on the beach with a guy playing guitar. He had a book of his repertoire which was basically The Live Lounge playlist which was great fun. We all ended up pretty drunk and Becky and Jake went 'to look for Jake's lost money'. Tom and I got bored waiting to decided to sneak in to our room to nap until the cougar and her toy boy got back. This was such a genius plan at the time but then I passed out on my bed, Tom who was meant to be sleeping on he spare bed was found hugging the toilet by Becky so then everyone ended up staying the night. Everything was fine until we realised we had to sneak the boys out of our very strict hostel. Beck and I came up with this elaborate plan of distracting the receptionist with boring questions about how to get to Bolivia whilst the boys snuck out the beach way. We were so scared because we didn't want to be fined but Thank God it all went to plan.

After our week in Paradise, we began our 3 day trip across the Bolivian border. We left Buzios at 8am, got on an overnight bus to Campo Grande at 12.30pm which got us in at about 10am the next day. At this point Becky and I met two people that we didn't realise we would never be able to get rid of! Only joking, we met Rebecca and Sam, a couple from Nottingham University, loaded with Rebecca's insanely large suitcase, fondly known as Bill. We joined forces and from Campo Grande we headed to Corumba where Becky and I had already booked a hostel. As we got off the bus a man started calling Becky's name and hurried us into a tiny little office. He said the hostel was great (massive lie #1) and that we should book getting across the border with him because other companies screw you over (massive lie #2). The deal he offered wasn't much more than what we saw on the Internet, but Becky and I had no cash so he organised for a taxi to take us to an ATM. No joke, this was the scariest experience if our trip, this guy in a banger got us to the cash point... Just. To say his car was on its last legs was a serious understatement. It casually cut out whilst we crossed an intersection and I'm pretty sure the brakes didn't work. Anyway we got back, paid for our bus to Santa Cruz in Bolivia and headed to Hotel Salette with Sam and Rebecca in tow.

*WARNING* massive bitch coming up.

We got to Salette where they claimed they had no recollection of our booking even though our names were in the diary and they'd so kindly passed them on to Chopsy Von Salesman at the bus station. After a mix up with our rooms, Becky and I were given a room (cell) each and Becca and Sam had a double room. We braved the dribble of a shower got changed and headed out for all-you-can-eat pizza, which it turns out is all Corumba had going for it. We got back to the hotel, played cards in the kitchen area in front of an enormous picture of Jesus at the Last Supper, little did we know that this was somewhat symbolic of the hellish night we had ahead of us. We went to our rooms and gingerly tried to make ourselves at home. I think the guy's banger of a car felt safer. Next thing I hear Becky squeal as she discovered hair in her bed, blood on the wall and cockroaches everywhere. We grabbed all her stuff, put it in my room and went to reception to tell them we wanted to change rooms. The arse of a boy was so ignorant and laughed as we typed the issue to him on google translate . We asked to speak to his manager, so then he rang someone and said we could speak to the owner in he morning. We gave him the key to the other room to prove we were only sleeping in one and Becky an I shared one tiny single bed, terrified to sleep incase bugs crawled on us/an axe murderer came out of the cupboard. The whole place was creepy, I went to the bathroom the next morning and there was just this skinny, lurker-y guy in the corridor watching me. We got out of our room as soon as possible and braced ourselves to explain to the receptionist. Turns out the receptionist was only a cleaner, there's no manager, the hotel has no partnership with Hostelworld and even though he cleaner's agreed with us we had to pay or they would call the police. We were so angry and we are currently in the process of arsy e-mails to Hostelworld to get compensation.

We got a local bus to he order, queued for hours and eventually to cross to Bolivia. We had to hang around Quijarro (sp?) for a few hours before we got on the night bus to Santa Cruz. We had a mare as none of us had much money and there were no cashpoints. We eventually got on the bus and as Becca was saying how much it reminded her of Jeepers Creepers, crash, bang, wallop the bus broke down in the arse end of nowhere. It didn't delay us to much and we arrived in Santa Cruz earlier than expected and headed to Jodanga hostel where the lovely owner let us sleep in the tv room until our rooms were ready.

Mission FINALLY completed.


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Carnaval in Rio

We arrived in Rio on Thursday 7th, all very worried having heard numerous horror stories about people getting mugged etc. As a result, we had money, phones and other valuables stashed away in our bras, money belts and shoes, with a few cautionary notes in our pockets just in case we were held at knife point and the robbers were stupid enough to believe all we had on us was a few reais. We got a taxi to Copacabana beach with the boys and luckily we had Tom to read out the road names for us in his I'll-shout-louder-so-you-are-more-likely-to-understand, pigeon-Portuguese like an embarrassing parent (Yes, I'm looking at you Mum). Who knew the taxi driver could actually read without Tom's help and found his efforts just as amusing as we did.

We stayed in a hostel called Walk on the Beach which we were really excited about because it had 91% on hostel world. We were shown to our room and were met with three tier bunks and a shitty ceiling fan which barely cooled the top bunks let alone the bottom. The people staying at the hostel were so different to people we had met previously as there were less travellers and more holiday makers. We met a guy from Newport (bless) on our first night and he came for dinner with us. I wasn't feeling too good so I just had a coke, Becky had a burger and he ordered chicken and rice but when it came out he was appalled with his dish and refused to eat it. I'm not sure what exactly he was expecting when he ordered his chicken and rice, but after clucking like a chicken to order his food, I think he deserved a minging meal.

Carnaval in Brazil involved lots of street parties called 'blocos' which were rather hit and miss, elaborate costumes, lots of dancing and shows in the Sambadrome. Unfortunately we didn't get tickets to the parades because they were so expensive but we did as much as we could. We went to some amazing blocos like one in Ipanema where everyone got merry whilst samba-ing down the street before heading on to the beach which turned into a night club with djs and flashing lights. Kim, Kanye and Will Smith were allegedly watching this blocko but I didn't see them. Can't imagine drinking beers bought of the street and queuing for port-a-loos is seen as very glamorous.




Brazilian culture is much more male dominant and as 'gringos', Becky and I got a lot of attention. It was like Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, boys would grab your arm, use some sort of variation of 'you're beautiful', 'I love your eyes' etc and then ask you for a kiss. I don't understand when that would ever work for them. If a guy in the UK vice-gripped my arm and demanded a kiss I'd laugh in their face. Some of the not so good blocos we encountered when we met up with Adriana and her brother, with our roommate Dave. it involved following a bus with five old men warbling the same song over and over again amongst a crowd of pensioners.

We had some weird experiences some nights. One night I was convinced there was a Japanese man in our room and couldn't get my head round why no one else saw him. Earlier that night I'd had a funny five minutes where I could see loads of myself and couldn't hear anything. Similar things involving a lion and an identical twin happened to Becky too. Only when we googled cachaca (the main ingredient in caipirinhas) did we realise that it was an hallucinogenic and they were trying to make it illegal in America. Turns out you're meant to have one or two and not binge drink like Brits drinking pitchers of woo woo in Spoons.

One of the days, a big group of us from the hostel went on a boat trip leaving from Marina de Gloria. We all jumped in taxis and unlucky for us, Dave, Becky and I got in the dud one. He drove the wrong way about three times, crossed a dual carriage way going in the opposite direction, hit another car and dropped us nowhere near where we needed to go. A 45 minute walk later in the blistering heat we arrived at the boat twenty minutes late. The first hour meant free drinks for girls and two for one drinks for boys. In true Brazilian style there was one guy manning a bar serving about thirty girls so we ended up swarming and pouring our own drinks. As people got more tipsy the fun began. Everyone was dancing to old school rnb (my guilty pleasure), having dance offs and chatting to anyone and everyone. Becky got hit on my two different lesbians (one of which had sideburns) and didn't know to do with herself. When the boat stopped we all jumped in as the bouncers frantically tried to keep people from jumping off the top deck. All in all a good day!




On the last night of carnaval, we played some drinking games in the hostel before heading in to Lapa which was where the main parties were. Bryan, a guy we met in Florianopolis, joined us and we all crammed into a mini bus full of about 30 people and headed to Lapa. It was so good! There was live music, lots of samba-ing and too many drinks. Becky became Brazilian for the night and samba-ed away like a pro with her boy Bryan. Becky likes to think that their moves rivalled Anton Du Bec, I however am not convinced. Events of that night still remain blurry- probably for the best given the telling offs from the security guards.

Whilst in Rio we decided we needed to get some actual cultural stuff done so we booked a one day tour and blitzed the city. There ended up being about ten of us including 4 people from the Philippines who took more photos than I ever thought possible. First we went to Lapa steps which were created by a Chilean artist. Lapa is the party area so is usually swamped with beer cans, wine bottles and the like. In the sober light of day it is quite run down and there's a lot of poverty so the Chilean artist began creating a sort of mosaic on the steps. There were tiles from all over the world including a picture of Princess Diana and a map of London. The artist tragically burned himself to death on these steps earlier this year.



Next we headed to the Cathedral which is shaped like a pyramid. I sang the biggest fan of it because I thought the grey stone made it look quite dismal. However inside was beautiful. There were four stained glass windows that shone in different colours depending on the position of the sun.




After the Cathedral, we headed to see Christ the Redeemer. It stands on a hill 300m above sea-level and, as generic as it sounds, it is something to behold. We were lucky that the sky was really clear so we could see the whole of Rio. The same applied at our next stop which was Sugar Loaf Mountain. We took the gondolas all the way to the top, and from an even higher height than Christ the Redeemer, the view was even better. The strangest thing happened while we were there though, a guy was just casually wandering around dressed as Jesus. It was so surreal!







The tour we went on made us feel better about our week in Rio because we hadn't wasted the whole time alternating between being drunk/hungover. Our guide was so awkward though, he kept making really inappropriate jokes. For example, he showed us his tour guide ID (no one asked to see it, he was clearly really proud of it) and started laughing and said 'haha I look like a terrorist, let's hope there are no Americans on board or they'll panic'. There were two guys from LA sat right behind us. Tumbleweed.

I loved my week in Rio but would love to go back when Carnaval isn't on because although it was an unforgettable experience, it wasn't Rio under normal circumstances.

Note: lack of pics is because we didn't want to get our cameras stolen.

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Paraty and Ilha Grande

Our long trip to Paraty was less than ideal but we eventually arrived at our hostel. Although we had booked into one hostel, we had been moved to another one next door called Gekko. We were a bit confused until we realised it was actually a good thing and instead of a nine-bed dorm we were actually in a six-bed with air conditioning and a fridge- heaven. The hostel bar and breakfast area was on the beach and the town was supposedly only a ten minute walk away. That was a load of crap though, the town was like a labyrinth. Becky and I's quick pasta mission ended up with us walking around for hours, looking for streets with no sign posts (typical South America), following directions from Brazilians with a worse sense of direction than myself and eventually getting back, cooking in the dark in the outside kitchen with faces like slapped arses. Great.

The breakfasts at the hostel was the same as most. Bread, ham, cheese, fruit and cake. Yes, cake. It's great! It still feels so naughty indulging in chocolate first thing in the morning but I can't complain. The beach bar also did caipirinhas and the best calamari I have ever had in my life.




Whilst in Paraty, the weather was a bit hit and miss, but on the days we had sun, we went to two of the beaches. The first required a 40 minute bus journey which we didn't consider a problem until we got there. The bus had no air con, was full of fat, sweaty, hairy Brazilian men in their hideous skimpy shorts and it struggled to get up the mountain hills. Forty minutes later, having even gassed by the smell of burnt clutch (reminded me of Mum's driving), we got to Trinidade beach with three Australian girls from the hostel. It was a beautiful beach and we sunbathed all day. Becky fell asleep in her shorts and is still suffering the embarrassment of her tan lines over two weeks later! The second beach was meant to have a mud bath, but ok'd we find it? Of course not. I'm seriously starting to doubt my spy capabilities as I'm seriously lacking in the navigation department. Anyway, we got to the beach and the only mud we could find was the horrible slimy sand in the water. It was meant to help your skin but it felt horrible to walk on. The strangest things happened on this beach. As a result of the day before's sunburn, we decided to nap under a tree. I was innocently dozing lying on my sarong when I was rudely awoken by the hideous breath of a donkey and an ox standing over my head carrying two giggling children. Not only was it bad enough that they breathed on me (still not fully recovered), they were mere CENTIMETRES from my skull. That shit cray. Becky and I decided to vacate quickly when we noticed a full on pirate, complete with hat and bottle of rum striding towards us. Not knowing whether to rack my brains for the safety pirate word used by Keira Knightly in Pirates of he Carribean ('parlé' I think?) or to run in the sea and hide or to just applaud his costume, we stood there looking as gormless and dumbfounded as possible. He didn't try and kidnap us funnily enough but I still don't know if he was dressed up or not. He had some serious pirate swag.




After a relaxing few days in Paraty, we boarded another bus to Angra dos Reis in order to get the boat to Ilha Grande. My God was my temper tested on this bus. This stupid, ignorant pig of a German man pushed in front of us in the queue getting he last two seats on the bus. We had to balance our bags and stand up as the bus driver kept letting more and more people on. After about n hour and a half, a seat became available next to the German man and as no one else was waiting, I took it. This was no easy task. I had to clamber over his stupid, gigantic plastic suitcase and him because he was too awkward to move along. Then a man with a walking stick got on and he didn't even offer his seat. I had to climb out of my seat so the old man could go through the same process of scaling the knob's luggage without so much if a movement from the German man. What's worse, he rammed his case on my foot. How I did not have an Ange-esque, fiery red-head tantrum I will never know. Even writing ths has left me with finger nail marks on my palm.

Anyway, we boarded the boat and crossed to Ilha Grande. Unfortunately it rained the majority of time we were here but it was still really relaxing. The hostel was called Holandes and it felt like we were in the middle of a rainforest (emphasis on the rain) with its picturesque surroundings. It was so nice and clean with hammocks on all the verandas and we met some lovely people. We played cards with some Aussies, put the world to rights with an inspiring girl from Norway called Andrea and met the most unintentionally funny guy I have ever met. He made the most outrageous claims about going to parties in favelas and fighting with tramps who wanted his money. So entertaining! Within five minutes of meeting him he'd already over-shared about how he got laid on his birthday even though he has a girlfriend at home (I hate men). We also met the cutest little sweeties called Jake and Tom who we had to take under our wing when we found them frying chicken nuggets from frozen to go with their rice and onion soup- nutritious.

The bad weather had meant there had been power cuts and heavy rain for most of our time on the island, however on the last day it cleared a bit so we decided to explore. The boys told us about a waterfall which was a but of a walk away but we decided to try it. Guess what? We got lost! Ended up finding a beautiful natural pool though with a waterfall. We were innocently milling around in the pool when all of a sudden children started falling from above with the speed and noise levels of bombs. It was terrifying! Luckily they quickly moved on and were replaced with three men. One was balding but had long hair passed his waist hanging lankily from the sides and the other two were pretty normal. They all stood under the waterfall one by one telling us it was a 'healing pool'. Next thing we know they start doing yoga and chanting to the birds from rocks. So unbelievably surreal and unexpected. Baldilocks was a massive waterfall-hogger and once we eventually got a chance to experience a waterfall massage we scarpered unable to contain our giggles any longer.




The next two nights were traumatic for me. I was in bed asleep when all of a sudden I could smell a damp smell like wet dog. I was cursing Becky for leaving her smelly shoes near my bed when I looked up to see the hostel's skanky cat stalking towards me. Ergh I hate cats so much but I managed to get it out, not knowing how it had got in in the first place. I fell back asleep then woke up because there was a change in pressure on the mattress and then I felt the cat on my arm. Omg it was disgusting. Such a vile creature. I thought it had come in through the bathroom door, so closed it and tried to sleep again, terrified I would come in again. The next night the same minging cat managed o get in twice. It could open the door to our room and the window which I barricaded and then it just sat outside the door meowing constantly all night. We were all so tired and angry and it just wouldn't shut up until he French girl in our dorm chased it with her flip flop and it didn't come again thank God.

The next day, we got the bus with Jake and Tom and began our journey to Riooooooo! It was so good it deserves its own post so ... Laters! Xx


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Iguacu Falls and Florianopolis

After our few days in the hustle and bustle of BA, we took a really long bus ride to Iguaçu/Iguassu/Iguazu Falls (each sign post had a different spelling- handy). It was such a contrast to Buenos Aires and it was the first time Becky and I were in a shared room.

We arrived at Puerto Iguacu at about midday and made our way through the village to our hostel. It looked like a shack and it would definitely not survive the gale-force winds and rain we have at home. We were shown to our room and were curious about our future roomies. There were three bunk beds all covered in a super snazzy leopard print fur blanket (think crappy fur pencil cases from school with the itchy lining) which were not only unnecessary in the heat of Argentina but also made the room seem a bit like a rodeo boudoir. Our first room mate arrived in the form of a really shy, quiet Japanese boy who spoke barely any English but wanted to practice, cue constant dictionary flicking and painfully awkward conversations.

We headed into the town to get the bus to the Brazilian side of the falls and were blown away by the enormity of the waterfalls. After taking a safari bus that warned us about the animals that 'cah-ree des-eases like rah-bies' (great), we began our walk around the tourist trail. The falls are amazing and on the Brazilian side you are met with amazing landscapes and wildlife. I wasn't the biggest fan of the wildlife personally, can't say I like jumping out of my skin at the sight of giant lizards and seeing ratty things that looked like Miko from Pocahontas scratching at people's bags and climbing on the tables in the restaurants whilst people were eating. Gross. Some people were loving it though. Turns out Becky is a massive bird geek which I was not expecting. It was like being at my Grandma's as a child again. When Emma and I would stay there on weekends, we'd be watching tv and Gram would start shouting 'Girls! Girls! Quick come here!' We'd run to the kitchen in a panic to find out Grandma had seen a blue tit. Wicked, I loved hyperventilating and panicking over a sodding glimpse of a really common bird. Becky shares the same enthusiasm as my Grandma. Who'd have thought?




Turns out Brazilians are really thorough photographers. We asked a few people to take photos of us by the falls and had our photo taken numerous times from different angles and distances and they even asked other people to move so as not to ruin our shot. I feel one maybe two photos would have sufficed but after they went to all that effort all we could really do was stand there and smile. As a result, I am now the proud owner of about 100 hundred photos of Becky and I in front of various parts of the waterfall- any takers?




That evening we got home and there were two more beds occupied in our room. Post long bus journey and an afternoon of walking we were shattered and wanted to charge all our stuff. There was one plug conveniently near my bed. So I charged my iPad and fell asleep clutching it to my chest thanks to the horror stories the girls told me about thieves in hostels. We had no idea who the other two people were but had the pleasure of meeting them as they came in and out of the room, switching the light on, rustling carrier bags and chatting away over a three hour period from about 10pm. They were a really small Japanese couple and the boy actually looked like a pirate. He had a bandanna tied around his head, a ponytail and waterproof trousers. The girlfriend was really quiet and seemed quite sweet though. When they eventually got into bed, I heaved a sigh of relief thinking I could now sleep properly. Then it started- the snoring. Oh my God I was so angry. Every single other person in the room was awake because of it, including the girlfriend who just sat there looking terrified as Becky and I huffed and puffed ramming earphones in our ears to drown it out. How is it possible for someone so small to make so much noise? They also had alarms that went off at about 6.45am. Lovely start to the morning.

Both a bit grumpy and tired we got to the Argentinian side of the falls and were once again wowed by its beauty. This side allowed you to get a lot closer to the waterfall and walk all the way along. We booked to go on a boat trip that took us even closer and obviously we expected to get a bit damp. Damp was not the word. The boat drove directly into the waterfall and we were DRENCHED. We really didn't think it through and had to trudge the whole way back in wet denim- not fun. However nothing could ruin the beautiful day and we even saw a rainbow (no pots of gold though, unfortunately).

We got back to the hostel hoping to charge our phones (ipad had drained having played music all night) so we could Skype home but Sir Snore-A-Lot was hogging the charger. He wasn't even in the room and had left all his gadgets charging on a multi-plug thing. Why didn't we think of that?! He had also unplugged the air con to charge something- so considerate. I really liked this guy as you am probably tell. We had to sit in the reception crowding a small multi-plug socket for ages but spoke to our family (not Emma though because as always she's busy) and went to bed. He snored AGAIN. I couldn't take it anymore so I stormed over and shook him awake. His arms were flying about as he woke up in shock. He couldn't speak English and I don't know any Japanese so there were some angry gestures and snoring sounds as he looked at me confused. I think he got the hint though as he rolled over and slept IN SILENCE. Why he can't do that all the time is beyond me! His girlfriend needs to man up though. I couldn't just lie there if Becky was making earth-shaking sounds in her sleep. Firstly I'd pretend I didn't know her and then throw a flip flop at her. Ha just kidding I'd probably just tell her to shut up to save her the embarrassment and to get myself some sleep.

The next day we had another night bus to Florianopolis so spent the day chilling by the pool in hammocks before being picked up at 5pm. The mini bus took us across the border where we got the night bus. This was nothing like the bus we'd been on before. The seats were itchy carpet, they didn't go back, the bus was ancient so air con was a freezing jet of air on one of the two seats (mine unfortunately) and our bones were rattled the whole way. Originally we were both sat separately and I was sat by a beautiful Greek guy from Brighton who was really nice and gave me loads of advice about where to go. He had spent the last two years traveling on his motor bike *SWOOON!* However unfortunately I didn't have my game face on (hadn't even done my eyebrows), i looked like a tramp and I wasn't in the best of moods. I just wanted to eat my bargain baguette and sleep so was really pleased when he offered to swap so Becky and I could sit together. This bus was hell and the 14 hours actually turned out to be 20 long and fidgety hours with no sleep so I was really glad it was only Becky that got to see my beautiful, swollen, grouchy face the next morning.

When we finally got to Florianopolis we were taken to Hostel Lagoa on the east coast of the island. It was so nice and hot out so once we had checked in we went to the beach to sun bathe for a bit. My God we saw some sights! Brazilian beach attire consists of barely there bottoms for girls and budgie smugglers for guys. Not always pretty and it was just so disappointing seeing really hot guys in short shorts. They just aren't and never will be attractive.

We got back to the hostel and decided to play some pool and have some drinks. Caipirinhas are the best cocktails and they were so cheap so four cocktails later we were a little bit merry. We befriended some Brazilians called Diego, Anne Elisa, Rafael and Daniel and an American guy called Bryan from NY and they led us astray. They took us to this samba bar and on the way were pouring us Brazilian vodkas and red bull. Omg they were so strong! They insisted that I needed to learn some Portuguese so were trying to teach me to order caipirinhas. I was so retarded, I'd forget after about ten seconds and the bar maid just looked at me like I was a freak as I spouted made up words. MORTIFYING. They taught us the basic samba steps (we looked ridiculous) as they samba-ed away on the dance floor. It came so naturally to them and they all looked so sexy. We definitely did not look the same and I was horrified when a group of American guys kept making us dance with them. 'Look in to my eyes Jess, we can make up our own Samba!' I just couldn't stop laughing. One of them looked exactly like Cory from Boy Meets World. All in all a really good night. We befriended a fisherman on the way home too! Well I say befriended, he didn't really seem too impressed with our squealing at his hard-earned bucket of fish to be honest but I like to think we brightened up his morning.

The next day I awoke to people shouting 'BREAKFAST IS OVER' with a hangover that rivaled all others. Daniel and Rafael who were also in our room had left, leaving us with a really sweet note though which cheered me up. We sorted our lives out and got a lift to the beach in the back of a pick up truck. It did wonders for my hangover being squashed in the back of it with 5 other people and a surf board in the blazing heat but it was an experience! We got to Praia Joacina and were shocked by how lively it was. Such a different atmosphere to the beach the day before. We had some lunch and then went in the sea before getting back on the beers at about 3 (ergh). I'm pathetic these days, I felt so ill.


After the beach we had some Thai food at the hostel before drinking again. We had two new British girls in our room and they joined us for drinks along with a Swiss boy. Bless him he'd had bad luck! Someone had taken his luggage at the airport so he was having to walk around in chinos and a shirt which he'd warn on the plane from snowy Switzerland. He was so embarrassed! We headed out again to a different samba club and danced the night away. On the way home, some knobs in a car drove past and smacked Becky's arse with a rolled up floor mat. She has such a bad bruise! It made such a loud noise that I thought the wing mirror had hit her. So now she's sat on a bus with a sore ass, a potentially dodgy tummy from Thai food and a cold. The pharmacist gave her some throat sweets that smell of garlic, so as you can imagine she also smells! Bless her. Only Becky!

I am currently on bus number two of three to Paraty. I'm really enjoying myself and am getting more and more excited for Carnival. I am having serious humidity issues though and have made a begging phone call home asking mum to post my GHDs to me when I'm in the US because I can't cope looking like a frizz ball anymore and the travel straighteners Becky brought don't work.

Missing you all lots and really craving UK diet coke. Also wouldn't mind some chocolate that doesn't taste like chemicals (anti melting stuff) too. Mumma if you're reading this that was a massive hint.

Lots of love xxx

Part 1: Buenos Aires

Our first stop on our 7 month trip around the world was Buenos Aires. The hysteria around the snow left us praying that our flight would leave Heathrow and to our surprise, after tearful goodbyes, a quick security frisk and a vodka to calm the nerves we departed on time and began our 16 and a half hour flight to Argentina via Rome. If I had any advice for anyone who flies with AlItalia in the future, it would be to prepare yourself for the impending thirst on board the flight. I didn't take water on board because I assumed I'd be able to buy some on board but no, I spent the whole 14 hours from Rome panicking about how little water I had. We were given a tiny plastic cup full every few hours and because I was so tired and delirious and have a tendency to be slightly dramatic, I genuinely thought I was going to die of thirst. In hindsight when I think about it all I can hear is my friend Rose shouting 'ARE YOU A STARVING AFRICAN CHILD?!' However at the time it was dire so lesson learnt- take a drink with you!

I was a little apprehensive about going to South America having heard lots of horror stories about things getting stolen and girls getting attacked. These inhibitions were only worsened by my Grandma's concern about the Argentinian post-war beef with the Brits (she didn't call it beef but at the moment I am too tired to think of a better word so beef will have to do. Moo). 'Now don't mention the war for God's sake Jess, pretend your Canadian, no one hates them'. Do you know what dear Grandma, I'm so glad you imparted that wisdom because I love talking about the war so might have got in a right mess. Bless her!

Once we arrived we were taken straight to our first hostel, America Del Sur in San Telmo. It was so clean and the people were really friendly and more importantly, there was air con. We had showers which ended up in disaster as i managed to flood our room and then fall over mid-nap into an ungraceful heap on the wet floor. Good one Jess, a few hours in and you've already broken your resolution to improve balance. There is no hope for me! After a quick nap and with Becky's map at the ready we were ready to venture out in BA for the first time. The city is beautiful and very European. It reminded me of Paris in some places, Barcelona in others and even London occasionally. It was so hot which only made the city look even better. We wandered the streets to see the President's house (pretty swanky), the independence monument (rather phallic), the Clock and the Recoleta Cemetery. The grave yard was the strangest thing ever, it was lots of tiny and unusual huts which we soon realised showcased actual coffins. I had the fright of my life when I looked in one and something moved sending us into a shrieking panic- it was a bemused cleaner with his feather duster. Good one. We also visited La Boca which is home to the football stadium and a collection of brightly coloured houses interlaced with street performers and markets. Palermo and San Telmo were also must see neighbourhoods, Palermo boasting fancy shops and quirky bars and San Telmo the narrowest house in the world and the home of the author of Mafalda.








Getting around wasn't as easy as I'd expected. They're not fans of the old reliable sign post in Argentina so it was a mission to navigate. The road system is all one way and there are six lanes of angry, beeping cars hurling at you at 100mph. You'd think zebra and pelican crossings would help pedestrians in such a busy city but no, they may as well have not been there because even when the green man said to walk, you'd still have cars screeching around the corners. The tube system was great, really clean and with bright and colourful graffiti over the carriages. Graffiti is everywhere in Argentina and unlike the UK, you won't find 'Kai woz ere 2k13' scrawled on the walls but rather intricate and unusual art work. Back to transport, buses- don't do it! Not unless you have shit-loads of change, can speak Spanish or have a tour guide. The bus drivers aren't the most friendly of beings and just grunt at confused tourists- helpful. Taxis are okay but you have to always go by the meter and preferably pre-book them with your hostel. If that's not possible make sure you flag down a Radio Taxi as they are all registered. The only danger here is the horrendous driving and potential travel sickness. I spent the whole time gasping and stamping my imaginary brakes as the cars zipped between lanes like it was going out of fashion whilst the driver read his newspaper- MENTAL.




The food and drink was really different to the UK. The steak was amazing but when you order steak that is literally all you get, one massive slab of meat on your plate. If you want something with it don't forget to order sides. In saying that, the steak was still amazing and I highly recommend Don Julio in Palermo. We had some questionable meals, particularly when we ordered a salad and were greeted with a bowl of vegetables all compartmentalised in to separate sections- tres bizarre. The beer and lager was much nicer in BA, we had Brahmes and Quilmes which was lighter than beers at home. The wine was lovely, particularly the red apparently but I'm not a fan. The locals all drink this weird hot drink which has tabacco and herbs in it, can't say it appealed to me. They also drink Fermet with Coke which tasted like mixed herbs/bark. Soooo gross.

We went to a tango night which included a free lesson with our teacher Alejandro (could you get anymore stereotypical?) he was great though and divided the girls and the boys to teach us the basic steps. All was going well until we had to mix and the boys had to pick girls to dance with- so awkward but fun nonetheless. We also learnt the importance of the tango face- no smiles her just an angry, fierce, passionate glare. Can't say I mastered it! We then had a three course meal before watching the tango show. The dancing was phenomenal and even the drunk old man who sang intermittently whilst the dancers changed couldn't ruin it.





As far as nightlife goes, we only went out properly once during our brief trip to BA. On our last day we met some lovely Australians and went for some drinks and food with them before heading to a few clubs. At the first club we tried we were greeted by men and women in barely any clothing and covered in lots of oil. It was a sight to behold! There was a dominatrix Oompa Loompa, a transvestite Lady Gaga and god knows what else. We didn't end up going there because it was expensive but instead went to a hip hop night in Palermo. As we entered it was as if we had been transported to the set of Step Up (minus Channing Tatum, sob). People had formed circles around dancers having dance offs to dirty hip hop. It was so surreal and unexpected and the dancing was incredible! As the night went on the music became less gangster and we danced away to a bit of old school Jay-Z, Kanye, Rihanna and Destiny's Child. It was not what I expected at all but I loved it and skanked the night away despite sticking out like a sore thumb in my summer dress.




One thing I was really shocked by was how ridiculously forward men were out there! Everyone was fascinated by Becky's blonde barnet and our blue eyes and weren't afraid to whistle/beep horns. Who said romance is dead? I'd definitely go out with a guy who hissed at me on the street to get my attention... Not. I was pleasantly surprised at how safe it felt in the city though and I absolutely loved Buenos Aires. I would definitely go back because there's so much I didn't see.

I am writing this 18 hours in to my journey from BA to Iguacu Falls. The view out of the window is amazing and I can't believe how nice the bus is! It cost us about £35 and we have so much room and the seats go really far back. We've had three rather questionable meals that neither of us could eat and the films were a bit odd. We had a nun sat behind us and they put on a kick boxing/soft porn film starring Jean Claude Van Dam. You couldn't escape it because it was played through the speakers as well as through the headphone plugs so we all had to drift off to sleep listening to people getting punched/having sex over the sound of my iPod. I felt so awkward especially knowing the nun was behind me.

I thoroughly enjoyed my first few days into my trip and met some amazing people. It has felt like a holiday though so I'm looking forward to staring to rough it a bit more and seeing the waterfalls at Iguacu before heading to the beaches of Brazil.




For those concerned, the money belt is fantastic and so far I'm yet to wash my clothes in a river or contract any bugs. Operation buy pants in every country has so far been unsuccessful.

Missing everyone lots. Ciao! xx


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T-2 Weeks

Myself and my friend Becky are heading off on our travels 2 weeks today. We are traveling to Latin America, North America, New Zealand, Australia and South East Asia over a period of 7 months.

People keep asking if I am excited to which I feel obligated to reply with 'yes' but in all honesty I am terrified. What if one of us gets hurt? What if I get there and realise I have forgotten an item of vital importance. What if I don't like washing my knickers in a river? What if I am eaten alive by mosquitoes? All these ridiculous questions ran over and over in my mind all day until my lovely God Sister reminded me that we won't actually be roughing it with no make up and walking boots the whole time. Believe it or not there is actually civilisation abroad and there are shops, people that will help us out, hospitals, laundrettes etc. So there is nothing to worry about right? Wrong. I have so much to organise and not enough time to do it (so should therefore probably be productive instead of writing this). I am also worried I will be homesick and miss my friends and family. Plus who knew how difficult it was to choose who to take out insurance with?! However, despite all these things, traveling is a once in a life time opportunity and after enduring months of working 60 hour weeks, numerous horrendously expensive jabs and millions of lectures about safety from every member of my family, I have decided to write this blog to keep you all updated on our adventures.

So brace yourself, my friends, for what is bound to be an amusing read, as two exteremely materialistic girls  (with tendancies to embarrass themselves at every opportunity) ditch the extensions, limit themselves to minimal beauty products and embrace rucksacks in order to take on the world.

Bring. It. On.