Food and Friendship in Orta.

These are the two basic staples of life. There is not much else. A friendship that endures is special. To know someone who really knows you – who knew you when you were young, and still knows you when you’re old. ‘I cannot imagine you all as young lads’, said Val. There is photographic evidence of course. We see what they looked like: long hair, … Continue reading Food and Friendship in Orta.

Just Cruisin’: From Pucallpa to Iquitos.

There’s a whole range of Henry’s. We were on Henry VI. The only majestic thing about her was her name. The Henry is a turquoise and orange, wood and tin cargo barge that has seen better days. Mainly cargo – but she does take people – up to 200 of them. And she takes both on a four-day sojourn down the meandering Rio Ucayali for … Continue reading Just Cruisin’: From Pucallpa to Iquitos.

Lake Titicaca: The Sun And The Moon.

I kept thinking it was the sea; it’s so vast. Set at an altitude of 3,810m, and measuring some 190km by 80km, Lake Titicaca is by far the biggest high-altitude body of water in the world. Chugging out on the motorised ferry from Copacabana, it felt as though we were starting an epic voyage, and in some ways we were, for we were travelling to … Continue reading Lake Titicaca: The Sun And The Moon.

When The Saints Go Marching Out: Corpus Christi in Cusco.

They were waiting on the steps of the cathedral. All fifteen of them. Temporary wall-flowers, waiting for their turn to waltz. Adorned in fine fabrics, shot through with gold thread, capped with crowns and canopies, surrounded by fresh flowers, and outlined against a sky-blue heaven. Each surrounded by his own musicians, dancers, dignitaries and followers. Spectators milled about. Some rested on the cathedral steps, others … Continue reading When The Saints Go Marching Out: Corpus Christi in Cusco.

Sisters Doing It For Themselves.

Once you went in, you never came out. Santa Catalina: a pretty prison, but a prison nonetheless. Painted letters over the entrance to the first courtyard urge SILENCE, yet noise from the city surrounds you: the cries of street vendors, the clop of horses hooves, the hum of voices, the sound of life. There are forty-foot-high walls, but your prison is open to the air; … Continue reading Sisters Doing It For Themselves.