Papa's got a brand new bag... of coca leaves!

We spotted Jacques in Lima airport's waiting lounge instantly, all pale-skinned and wide-eyed as we were later than we said we'd be! From Lima we flew together to La Paz, the airline kindly seating the 2 Mr Coin's together despite being separate bookings!

Illimani towering over La Paz

A couple of days were needed for acclimatisation, as La Paz varies from 3,600m to 4,200m - so many cups of coca tea were drunk. Being on a particularly short schedule as Jacques only had 2 weeks, we had planned out an itinerary from La Paz to Cuzco and back with various stops along the way, pretty much down to the day.

check out the poor llama foetuses that didn't even get a day of life before being snatched away for witchcraft potions

Our first adventure (of many) was the infamous Death Road, a windy gravel track twisting its way from 4,700m to 1,200m over the course of 5 hours downhill biking.

It started cold and cloudy, but fast and thrilling down the paved road section, James and Jacques the fastest by far, and Beth surprising herself by coming a close third! It started to rain as soon as we hit the gravel, and despite being assured by the guide that it would probably stop after a while it never did - even right at the bottom! Fast and furious down wet gravel through streams, rivers and waterfalls with poor vision through strobe-blinking eyes or steamed-up goggles... we had very little visibility of the road let alone the supposedly magnificient view. Once we were completely soaked through all 5 layers (about 10 minutes after the rain started) there was no point avoiding the over-flowing road-rivers so we cycled straight through the many torrents and waterfalls. It was all over far too quick though, and before we knew it we were in hot showers finding mud in places the sun don't shine!

Our next adventure was somewhat more tranquil - a bus to Copacabana on the edge of Lake Titicaca, fulfilling Jacques' second lifelong dream. At 4,066m up we took a breathless 4-hour hike across the Isla del Sol in the middle of the lake, enjoying spectacular weather and wondrous views.

We must have been far too relaxed and stopped for a long leisurely lunch as we had to pretty much run the last hour up and down the island hills, testing our lungs to their limits, to make the boat back to the mainland with 5 minutes to spare. That was the first close call - unplanned, but we know Jacques likes to live on the edge.

A Beth sacrifice

As if that wasn't enough exercise for the day, we put Jacques through some more torture later that day - as soon as we had arrived back to the mainland we dumped our packs, grabbed beers and climbed another 200m to the nearby mirador (lookout) to enjoy a beautiful view of Copacabana transforming into a glow of orange street-lights and a spectacular sunset over the lake.

James on a beer run in town

No more please!

half-way rest stop

Living life on the edge

Keen to fit as much as humanly possible into the short stay we had with Jacques, we took a bus to Puno across the border and into Peru on the other side of Lake Titicaca. Here we found a classy hostel complete with heaters - much to Beth's delight. In Puno we took a boat across the lake to visit the quite unique and strange floating islands of Uros. We had an added delight of being entertained along the way by a local Peruvian popstar (with the longest hair ever) filming her music video, decked out in traditional clothes trying to look wistful rather than freezing!

The floating islands are made of woven reeds and now keeping up with modern day they use recycled plastic bottles as buoyancy aids. Many impressive crafts are made by the floating villagers who spend ther whole lives bobbing about on the lake... "they must be freezing" is all Beth could think as the temperature plummeted to -5 (and it can drop to -25 at night!). One of the many colourful trici-taxis took us back to the warmth of the heaters back at the hostel, much to Jacques' delight.

A floating islander explaining how they make the islands

Our next stop was Cuzco, the once powerful capital of the Incan empire. The bus journey there, across swathes of vast barren highlands with herds of llamas and alpacas in the distance, was mesmerizing.

Blissfully unaware of the Vietnamese pickpocket tailing him

We had a day spare before our allotted Inca Trail slot, and were instructed by the agency to avoid all rich/spicy/street foods to prevent us getting sick the day before. Beth, however, despite only consuming a spinach cannelloni, clearly had other plans, spending the day before the trek in bed as sick as a dog. Come morning though, we dragged her out of bed, fed her some dry bread, and set off walking down the beautifully sunny Pisac valley.

Cactus toes

Despite a warning from his sister Michelle that it took days to remove the spikes,
Jacques just couldn't resist picking a prickly pear! 

We were a group of 5 trekkers, us three and two friends from the US - Tiffany and John, so a small group compared to the 15 to 30-strong other groups. Beth struggled the first day still feeling a bit dodge, which was very tough anyway with a 4-hour steep climb at the end of the day. We climbed over 1000m that day, most of it in torrential rain, making it the hardest day. We arrived at the first camp through hours of rain to find the clouds parting and rays of sunshine streaming through the valley, giving us a beautiful view to welcome us to some rest. The porters, who we'd see run past us during the day carrying packs 5 times the size of ours, were exceptional cooks, especially when you consider the equipment and facilities available to them. All in all a bunch of very fit guys with excellent morale.

He even had a special chef hat and whites!

Camp 1 - Teeth Police

"Why I oughta..."

After a somewhat sleepless and freezing night we started early the second day to finish the final climb to Dead Woman's Pass. Beth thankfully was feeling fitter now and smiling again. Jacques struggled with his back a little but upon reaching the pass (and remarking they wouldn't be renaming it Dead Frenchman's Pass) found the energy to practically run down the next section - all 3 hours of it! The flora was in pristine condition; wild flowers including orchids lining the edges of our path, while humming-birds whizzed about collecting nectar in the sunshine-filled breaks in the rain. In true mountain style the weather was constantly changing.

Made it!

Downhill at last

Along the way to see Machu Picchu we saw lots of good examples of what was to come. Incan ruins were plentiful and our guide taught us about the impressive abilities of the Incan stone masons, the irrigation systems and day-to-day way of life.

An Incan door-hinge hole

one pretty bug

Our second camp was atop a plateau and gave us yet again another delightfully cold sleepless night, but come morning the sun was out and breakfast lifted our spirits. Then before we could even put our tents down the clouds rushed in and the rain hit hard... reluctantly we set off, and disappointed to find no break in the downpour we cladded ourselves with our "French flag rain macs" and tramped through hours of rain that day.

Team France

Lunch stop was our next camp but the warden told us it was not safe to stay, as the amount of rain had greatly increased the risk of landslides. Before we set off a large male llama, clearly concerned that his posse of females had strayed past our food-tent to graze, came hurtling through the area pulling out all the tent-pegs and collapsing the tent, before standing there staring and whining until the girls wandered back.

That night we would need to go to the village of Aguas Calientes, just downhill from Machu Picchu, and stay in a hostel for the night (what a shame - a hot shower and soft bed, this night was going to be heaven!) so we had another few hours to trek along to the Sun Gate for our first glimpse of the great lost city. We decided to run the last 5 km to the Sun Gate in an attempt to feel something of how the Incan messangers would have felt 500 years ago when they regularly ran from Cuzco to Machu Picchu in a matter of hours - these guys must have been exceptionally fit. Feeling somewhat like we'd run our own marathon, we arrived to a spectacular view of the city bathed in sunshine. There we recovered and waited for Jacques and the others... we made Jacques run the last few metres to enjoy the same breathless first sighting we had had moments earlier.

The last leg down to the town of Aguas Calientes was steep and full of huge steps, so with sore knees by this point we were very happy to clean and warm up in hot showers and the night was over far too quickly in the comfort of a proper bed. That night it rained hard but it didn't disturb our bliss.

Next morning was an early start of 4.30am, hiking back up the steps. In "machine-mode" we beat out time on the way down the previous day, doing the climb in 34 minutes, only to join a big queue to get in at the top, with Jacques and the others waiting for us as they had got the bus up. As we were used to by then, the morning rain came in quick and we felt very pleased we'd had the amazing views of the city the afternoon before. We learnt some more about the place then took shelter until the sun warmed the skies and the clouds parted to give us another wondrous view from close up of the fabulous city. Trek over, we were satisfied and tired, hopping on the train back to Cuzco and eventually finding our welcoming beds late that night.

We allowed ourselves one rest day, well I say rest... we went for a spot of motorbiking around the area and to check out the Maras salt mines.

Jacques in his element

Salty

The next and final adventure - downhill mountain biking Peru's Mega Avalanche single track! Unknown to Jacques and Beth, James convinced the company that all three of us where experienced mountain bikers, as they don't take amateurs down their most challenging route. So Beth's two previous downhill single track attempts would not have passed.

From Ollantaytambo we took an hour ride up to 4,200m to the start. The first section was ridiculously steep and over boggy, marshy ground - within 2 minutes Jacques had slid off into the mud, James came off right behind, and our guide Chet (a great guy who made the experience loads of fun as well as keeping us safe) managed a spectacular tumble, face-sliding 10m in the deep mud and snapping his derailler at the same time.

Jacques busting some speed

Jacques and Beth

We took the course a section at a time, each one challenging us in different ways. Beth took a slow-motion flip over the handle-bars early on, while Jacques tumbled a few times and James found himself dangling upside-down, caught by a friendly bush that saved him from a 10-metre drop. Reaching the bottom we climbed back in the truck to have another go, feeling more confident and happy to give the very technical sections our all. However our muscles had taken quite a beating by then and had other plans. We were faster but much more tired this time - evidenced as Beth took a huge tumble at speed over the handle-bars with the bike landing on top of her, knocking her confidence. Jacques did the same, whilst James was the only one of us to keep pulling it out the bag. Our bodies covered in mud, scrapes and bruises we continued until dark when we took to the road for the final part of the descent, round winding S-bends in the dark with the moon and stars shining bright. All in all definitely a highlight of the trip, and we felt hugely satisfied as we jumped on the night-bus back to La Paz (once again making it with minutes to spare)!

James just before the bush caught him

This was to be the end of Jacques' adventure, so after a slap-up steak dinner we sent him on his was to the airport. Our plan - a few days R&R before heading south to witness the magnificient salt flats of Uyuni.

Asleep on the job

Classy Rum & Coke, Bolivian-style

Interesting carvings at the local restaurant