On arrival at the bus station, we enquired about our confirmed 21:30 bus only to be told that it didn`t exist!!! In fact, the last bus from Ica to Arequipa left at 20:30 and was full. Furious with our bus company who had confirmed the wrong time twice, had in fact (without notifying us) booked us onto the 19:30 bus. So, back to Huacachina we went with the intention of getting the 11:00 bus the next morning. The bus company, not believing there was a bus at 11:00, again failed to reserve a place for us departing the following day. We went to the station ourselves, hoping that there would space on an evening bus only to be informed that these were also full. By this point, we were unsuccessfully trying to hold back tears of frustration while simultaneously laughing our heads of at our complete inability to communicate with the station employee. In the end, we managed to reserve a bus, albeit 2 days later than planned and headed back to our favourite hostel after already having said our goodbyes twice before.

We were greeted with fits of laughter by our friends and the hostel staff who claimed that our twin sisters had stayed there a few nights before. Not wanting to waste the day, we reunited with our friends and booked onto a tour of the local bodegas (or vineyards for you uncultured lot). The first bodega we visited, Vista Alegre is the oldest in Peru amd very well established. After a quick tasting, we moved onto the second pisco brewery where the traditional pisco making method was explained to us. This tour was far more personal and we were invited back for the harvest festival in March. After more than ample servings of pisco, we headed onto the third and final bodega with much merriment. Little did we know what was about to greet us. Walking into what looked like a dusty cave, full of barrels of pisco, we discovered old Inca and pre-Inca treasures, stuffed reptiles and even the odd human skull. Our taxi driver, Jorge, seemed to take a liking to Zanna, trying to convince her to swap her British boyfriend for a slightly crazier, short, middle aged Peruvian (sorry Alex). Although tempted, she decided to decline his `persuasive` offer.

On the precarious drive back to Huacachina, we danced along to Pitbull, providing much entertainment for Jorge. Hoping we could get a good night`s sleep before our 11 hour bus drive, we clearly had set our hopes too high, being woken up in the small hours of the morning by what can only be described as a cross between 2 warthogs and a grizzly bear snoring. We would not have been surprised if the whole of Peru had felt the earth shake!