CHILE: Atacama Desert

30 hours after leaving Santiago, Andy, Miriam and I arrived in the Atacama desert, in northern Chile. At the town of San Pedero we enlisted for a tour of the salt lakes. Huddled into a 4x4 we spent the next four days in one of the driest places on the planet.

With the altiplano rising to 17,000 feet, the nights were incredibly cold (-8 degrees c) and we got our first taste of altitude sickness (that's nearly the whole guidebook health section ticked off). However, the daytime views were incredible-ancient lakes, once part of the ocean, were raised up aeons ago and are now almost all dried out, creating immense dry lakes of salt. On the few lakes that still contain water, a plethora of flamingoes reside. And at one grateful spot were hot springs to bathe in.

BOLIVIA:Salar de Uyuni

Although we crossed into Bolivia on the 2nd day, our passports weren't stamped until three days later at the town of Uyuni. Even then we had to (as instructed!) ask the woman at the cigarette shop to find the customs guy and get him to open up the immigration office, which bore more of a resemblance to a teenager's bedroom adorned with cheap posters of models, pop groups and footy teams. He didn't even look at my photo, just politely asked where and on what page I would like the stamp put.

Uyuni, as you may already of guessed, isn't exactly the most bustling town in South America, but I still managed to lose Andy and Miriam at one point - I got chatting to the guy in the cookers, jackets and footballs shop whilst they sauntered on down to the batteries, shoe polish and vegetables seller.

Concerned that excitement was getting too much, we left the next day for the highest capital in the world - La Paz.

La Paz

The overnight bus journey to La Paz was probably one of the roughest of my life (only 2% of Bolivia's roads are paved). But as aurora brought forth the dawn we started our descent into the gigantic bowl that is La Paz - 4,000 feet down and yet still nearly 13,000 feet above sea level.

An eventful week was spent in the city, for a change it was my internal organs that proved robust - when I ordered a fourth spicy chorizipan, total cost 80p, the woman delivered it with raised eyebrows - whilst it was Andy's turn to get acquainted with the porcelain.

The whole city is basically one big street market. We managed to buy decent snowboarding jackets for a tenner and had fleeces hand-made for us for 20 quid. Walking past an English language school, for reference I decided to pop in and enquire and was immediately offered a job (I turned it down). I also met Tatiana, a sweet teacher of Bolivian/Russian/Greek stock who I later spent many hours chatting with, but more of that later!

The people recently elected the rightwing dictator from the 70s, Banzer, but seem to be rueing their decision. Not a day went by without a demonstration of some kind and the sound/smell of plastic bullets in the air (I can hear them now as I write this).

Copacabana

Three hours from La Paz, on a promontory of Lake Titicaca - the sacred lake of the Incas and the highest navigable lake in the world - lies the village of Copacabana, from where the famous beach in Rio took its name.

We spent two days on the idyllic islands of the icy cold lake, where I braved a swim, having served my apprenticeship in those oh-so-tropical waters of North Wales.

On returning to the village, we found a festival in full swing. It appeared obligatory to play a tuba or other such genteel brass instrument as drunkenly (and hence as loudly, off key, and out of time) as possible.

Tiwanku

Situated 12 miles south of the current edge of Lake Titicaca lie the immense ancient ruins of Tiwanku. A book that I had been reading, and that helped persuade me to pack my bags (Fingerprints of the Gods by Graham Hancock) strongly features these ruins and for once we even accepted being ripped of by the driver to get to them. The ruins contain a huge pyramid where a small lake of water was once kept for mirrored star observations, the Gateway of the Sun and less famously the huge Puma Punku, which may have once been a great port and if so greatly predate this site. Along with other ruins we visited, their complexity is startling and yet due to the usual lack of funding they are still only partly uncovered.

PERU

Via the lakeside town of Puno, the nearby island of Taquile (where they still adhere to the only three Inca laws - Don't lie, don't steal and don't be lazy) we took a train to the capital of the Incas.

Cusco

Much of Cusco is still built on original Inca walls. Fashioned from blocks so incomprehensively large and heavy they are placed together so precisely that not even a piece of paper can be slotted between them. An earthquake in 1950 completely destroyed one of the principal Spanish churches, revealing the hidden Inca walls it had secretly been built on, which were preserved totally intact.

In the vicinity of Cusco is the famous temple of Machu Picchu. A four day hike (and I mean hike) along the old Inca trail, complete with stupendous views (one of which I personally thought even overshadowed Machu Picchu itself), brought us to the site. At a mere 8,000 feet it was the lowest point of the walk! On walking around these and other ruins (Sascayhuanan, Koriancha, Pisac) I realised just how little anybody knows about them. Various alternate theories are offered, yet the sheer size, location and accuracy (coupled with the fact that they were originally covered with gold and silver) leads me to think that we are still a long way from understanding their full meaning.

Cusco at night is alive, a real traveller's Mecca. But unfortunately, just before returning to England, some locals persuaded Andy that they had a greater need for his passport, money and $500 dollar camera (could of sworn it cost a fiver from Boot's) than he did. This complicated his return. After Andy left it was a strange feeling for a few days, since we had been travelling together night and day for three months. But I eventually decided to head west to...

Arequipa

Arequipa is Peru's second-largest city. It was here that I experienced my first earthquake, but since the locals were non-plussed about this regular occurrence we didn't make a fuss. Along with Miriam (hello) who had been with Andy and I for a month, I was joined by an English couple (hello KC and Joel). We lost them and our Israeli friends after a failed, but amusing, bid to visit some Petroglyphs in the desert.

After nipping down to Chile for the day to renew visas (and receiving the full inspection at customs) we went to the Colca Canyon (the deepest in the world) to catch a rare glimpse of condors. Then there was another overnight bus journey to...

Nasca

Etched over a 525 km area in the desert near Nasca are numerous lines and drawings. Viewed from one of the regular $30 two-seater flights I couldn't help but marvel at their details and wonder what their purpose was. So much so that we missed the local bus.

We ended up hitching a lift with a truck driver who introduced himself as Marlon Brando. He asked us our names four times in five minutes, if we were Catholic, and then proceeded to pray to every cross on the roadside (there are a lot) and drive at 10 miles an hour.

Ica

Although just a small town, Ica was one of my favourite experiences, just eating and chatting with the locals on the street. We also went sand-boarding on a huge sand dune at the nearby oasis village of Huacachina.

We then headed to the foggy, cold and unfriendly capital of Lima where I parted company with Miriam.

Against my usual rationale, I turned back on myself and spent the next two days hacking back to La Paz to see Tatiana, the girl I mentioned earlier.

Pat at La Paz, again

When will I ever learn? I profess to a meagre understanding of some of the occurrences on this little blue-green molten ball of rock floating in space, but the female of our species is one area I will readily confess to being no expert on. Needless to say I arrived under false pretences and within a week was hacking back up the continent on my tod!

Reverting back to insular male behaviour, I proceeded to join 2 billion others and watch 22 grown-up adults kicking an inflated pigs bladder around a park for the sake of a cup, the Copa du Mondial - C'est la Vie!

To escape La Paz, I travelled for three days and nights back through Peru, over El Nino-devastated roads. Every bridge was down and the bus had to continually descend off the road, into the now-dry riverbed and then back up onto the remaining part of the road. I stopped at the ancient adobe city of Chan Chan, picking up a new travelling partner, Andy Borer, then reached...

ECUADOR

After nearly three months of chilly Andean weather I found myself in the sweaty border town of Huacillas. They had a new twist on border formalities - at the town you get a taxi a further three miles into Ecuador for your stamp, then take a taxi back to town in order to get a bus out of town. We headed back into temperate climbs and the town of...

Cuenca

Cuenca is quite simply a pleasant town - all the usual Colonial bits (nice Cathedral, pretty central square, etc.), but nothing that'll keep the chickens awake at night. So we moved on to...

Banos

Hmm. You know when you head somewhere for a rest and precisely the opposite happens, well here we go.

Steeped in the mountains, in a permanently misty environment at the gateway to the Amazon basin, lies Banos. Although the tourist agencies specialise in such invogorating activities such as jungle trips, mountain biking, and climbing, we plumped for Option B - indoor activities. (It was raining and they did close the road to the jungle for a week, honest!)

Strenous sports, such as watching the World Cup, playing pool and table football, were reluctantly pursued. I met a new travelling partner, Duncan. We managed to climb the nearest hill (twice!) and get to the natural hot springs at their opening time of 4:30am (not that we were on our way home and it was a good way of avoiding a hangover, of course).

Strolling home from the baths one morning, we decided to stay up and take the spectactular bus trip through a waterfall-clad gorge to the Amazon Basin. Five months in South America and I do lunch in the jungle! A pretty poor ratio I know, but then the bus journey - wow! On the return leg, with matchsticks keeping our eyes open, we veered aorund a particularly spectacular corner and were faced with the sight of a lorry, jack-knifed across the road, cargo strewn down the cliff, and pandemonium everywhere. The perfect time for the batteries in my camera to pack up!

With the Jungle Familiarisation mission well and truly aborted, we headed north past the snow capped volcano of Cotapaxi to Ecuador's capital...

Quito

Freeloading at our French friend's Mondial-inspired flat, Duncan and I spent a couple of days in this traveller's mini-mecca. We visited the enormous market of Otavalo and then got ready to produce our battered passports to enter into...

COLOMBIA

Spurred on by various reports from other travellers that this was the best country they had been to, we crossed the border at 6am and took a stunning 10 hour bus journey to Cali. There we stayed with my friend Bob, who'd had the misfortune to be studying at Nottingham at the same time as me.

Cali

With the recently unheard of luxuries of a flat - hot water, acquainted company, and a proper stereo - we spent a couple of lazy days listening to music, playing scrabble (in Spanish!) and basically vegging out. With full stomachs and rested limbs and then ascended nine hours along a dirt track to the tranquil (and it was at this time!) village of...

San Augustin

Colombia produces 90% of the world's emeralds and this small backwater town was similarily a gem. Picture in your mind an idyllic mountain village surrounded by lush verdent vegetation, open wooden lodging and a host of uncatergorised ancient sculptures and you have San Agustin.

After a week of endemic South American food - which by this time had included such specialities as omelettes with eggs, fish with fish sauce, tea with tea, and my particular favourite: beef with other ingredients (I kid you not) - Duncan and I headed our separate ways. I set off back to the comforts of Cali, which is where I am now, finishing this little scribble.

Join me next time when I further my Colombian travels, meet up with London-lad Chris (hopefully), and start Part III of the adventure - Central America.

Hasta luego,

Pat