Playa Blanca in Colombia

Playa Blanca is an incredible caribbean beach that is perfectly under-developed where you can camp or rent a hammock. There are no annoying hotels with pools or hostels full of 20 something hormonally-charged twerps getting pissed. There are no boutique shops, there are no dickheads with ATVs. Instead there's blue skies, warm clean water, pelicans, cows and a few basic businesses. Playa Blanca is on an island, a short distance away from the old colonial port town of Cartagena in Colombia. Because it's the caribbean it's always hot. How to get there? Well there's the expensive way and there's the cheap way. The expensive but convenient way is to take a speed boat from Cartagena port. You have to haggle for the boat price (we got our tickets for $15 per person) and then you have to pay a port tax ($6 per person). The boat takes about an hour. It's a flat bottom boat that violently bobs up and down even on the smoothest waters. On the return journey with the boat you have to negotiate with the captain and you don't pay tax. We got it for $7.50 per person. Alternatively, there's a bus going from the market in Cartagena. Again you have to haggle. The big saving is there's no port tax. Once you get to Playa Blanca there's nothing to do but relax. Swim, smoke blow, lie in a hammock, play with the dogs, get a massage, chat with the locals. In the evening the sun sets over the ocean. A magic time for a rum and coke and a spliff on the beach. It's a really long beach. It gets a few boat loads of tourists every afternoon, but they just stop for a meal and a swim and then go home. On Saturday and Sunday masses of locals catch the bus to the beach, but they all congregate in the one corner and get pissed. That's the only time you see the police there; to control the weekend binge drinkers. We stayed in the middle of the beach next to a small restaurant and shop. We were the only one's staying there. We had 3 dogs to guard our stuff. We camped literally on the beach, only 10 metres from the water's edge. The food in the restaurant was limited (chicken or fish with chips or rice) and it was comparatively expensive. We knew this was going to be the case so we bought water, tinned food, jam, bread and biscuits with us. During our three blissful nights on the beach we hardly spent anything. It was basic living - the shower and toilet were open air - but anymore would definitely be less in my opinion. Playa Blanca was quite possibly my favourite place in South America. Why? The beautiful beach, the warmest water, the isolation, the nature, the friendly people and the lack of people.

Sunset with great rum and good green. What a winner! The bucket shower. $2 per bucket.

The restaurant with our guard dogs snoozing.

Just behind our tent was a lagoon with cows. One night they passed en masse in front of our tent; much to the chagrin of the dogs.

Our tent with basic tarp covering for shade.

Machu Picchu

So we finally made it to Machu Picchu. We couldn´t be arsed doing the Inka trail or one of its alternatives. Somehow, to my ears, the phrase "organised trek" is anathema. I don´t want anyone carrying my bags and telling me where to go; and I don´t want to head off with 30 other people.

So we opted to take the train and organise our own tickets and accomodation.

We were horrified that the shortest train journey with the cheapest fare was $30 one way! They must have been studying British Rail prices. And to make it even more infuriating all the train places were heavily booked up.

After queuing for ages at the train station in Cusco we eventually secured a "backpacker" ticket one way, and a more expensive "vistadome" fare to return. In all $77 each. On top of that our tickets to enter Machu Picchu cost $40 each.

It struck me that Peru is charging a lot more than Angkor Wat, the Pyramids, The Taj Mahal or temples in Kyoto. It is debatable whether the train fees and entrance fee represent comparative value for money.

So feeling ripped off before the journey began, we took a mini bus to the small town of Ollantaytambo. A fantastically picturesque place which has been continously inhabited for 800 years. On one slope it has a famous Inka fort where the Spanish were famously defeated. You need the touristo boleto ($40) to enter. Naturally we didn´t have the ticket but managed to sneak in through an exit. We stayed the night at Ollantaytambo and scored a massive plate of chicken and chips for dinner.

The next day we took the super-expensive train to the town at the bottom of the hill where Machu Picchu is situated. Strangely enough the place is called Aguas Calientes, which means "hot water". It was a lovely place made deplorable by crass commercialism and a surfeit of Americans and tossers with walking sticks.

After a few arguments we got a tiny double room for 50 soles, got something to eat and got stoned in our room for the rest of the day.

At 3.45am the next morning we got up, dumped our rucksack on the Peruvians sleeping in the cupboard next door, and headed off for the walk up to Machu Pichu.

Needless to say many others were trekking with us in the dark up the 1,700 steps to the summit. The reason being that only the first 400 visitors to Machu Picchu can do the steep climb up the neighbouring mountain, Wanapicchu.

When we reached the top at 6am there was already a big crowd of people waiting to enter the ruins. Just before they started letting people in, buses from Aguas Calientes started arriving and a few cheeky fuckers from the buses started to push to the front of the line. Needless to say I thoroughly enjoyed calling these rich folks "motherfuckers". You can´t beat a bit of righteous indignation.

Once in we made it straight to the Wanapicchu office. We were numbers 48 and 49. At 7am we started the one hour trek up Wanapicchu. It was hard going. At the summit the paths and steps were slippy and had no rails stopping you plummet 100s of metres to your doom. My wife and I found a secluded spot and had a piss and a joint and took in the epic view.

By the time we got back to Machu Picchu we had been walking for hours and felt exhausted. We strolled around the ruins trying to catch snippets of information from passing tour guides. Eventually we found a beautiful terrace over a sheer drop, had another smoke and lay around in the sun.

At 1.30pm we had seen pretty much the whole site (including a detour to see the Inka bridge) and so we started to slowly descend the mountain back to Aguas Calientes. When we got there we were exhausted and filthy. In such a state we hung around until 6.30pm for our train back to Ollantaytambo. For the extra $10 for the superior "vistadome" train we got nowhere to put our pack and a sandwich.

All bad value but what is beyond doubt is that Machu Picchu is a magical (possibly spiritual) place that didn´t disappoint. It was great getting stoned there, but even without the herb, the place would´ve spellbound me. It is a massive site (the lower terraces aren´t open to the public) and despite what the tour guides claim, it´s purpose and true significance remain shrouded in mystery, like the mountains are covered in clouds.

Hiram Bingham, the yank who paid an 11 year old boy to lead him to Machu Picchu in 1911 and thus became "the discoverer" of the World Heritage site stole several artifacts from the area, and to this day Yale University refuses to give them back. Which just goes to show that from the very beginning of the history of foreigners visiting Machu Picchu people have been on the make.

Wanapicchu (the mountain that looms over Machu Pichu)

View of Machu Picchu from Wanapicchu

Behind the Watch Guard´s House

Llama drinking from the fountain