Phew – that lad Whittaker has stopped drivelling all manner of sh....... oh hello, he`s back! I heard that you cheeky little $%·$! So do you want to know where I`ve been or not? Well since getting out of Buenos Aires a trail was blazed to Uruguay. Up we turn in Montevideo with no idea and find quite a nice inoffensive little place. The main event however was me running around a deserted sports bar swinging my top around my head shouting risqué statements such as “Well done boys – we showed those sporting Italians a thing or three” and “I am savouring this moment”, as my football team came back from the dead and only went and won the European cup! The night was spent in obvious celebratory manner by teaching a gay choir from Philadelphia to sing football songs and learning anti capitalist songs from the hard core wing of the young Uruguayan communists. All lovely and lather related normalness. From there it was up to the Iguazu falls next to the Brazilian border. Now I have seen some water falls on my trip and let me to tell you – once you`ve seen one you`ve seen `em all. These fellas were something special though – just thousands of them and the best thing about it is they have turned the place into Alton Towers. Nature takes a back seat as you are put in a speed boat – dunked under the roaring beasts – and sent drenched on the two mile uphill walk to the exit. After saying goodbye to Miles and Rosie – our travelling companions of 5 weeks, Rob, Rosie (the other one!) and Messner decided all our hard work deserved a rest. Next stop then the desert island of Isla Grande, oh my week of doing approximately zero. The sun was out, the most strenuous effort was a swim and dolphins marauded about 50 metres off the beach for a laugh. The best discovery here was the Brazilian national drink Caparinha. Imagine a plastic cup full of rum, sugar and a lime chucked in for good measure. Four of these beauties and they would pat me on the back for being the most hilarious man in the world – and instructed me to tell everyone else of this fact at high volume. Three more and they would suddenly turn on me, remove my power of speech and order me to lie on the ground and whimper. Fickle hellcats that they were, I arranged to meet them at the same time every night. So tanned up and relaxed a course was charted for Rio de Janeiro, a place where it is easy to lose your new tan, even when it is 30 degrees in the shade (in the middle of Winter!), as you roll in every night just as the sun is rising above the high rise hotels. Seriously though it is an amazing city. Christ the redeemer stands above keeping guard and is a sight to behold. The heat sends people to the beaches in droves and the nightlife is pretty special as you would expect. I even had to time to keep the non South American activities up with a cheeky hang glide down to the beach. But what banter. Ahem: · After a night out on Isla Grande, Sir Robert of Drury made a local man fall of his bike after letting out one of his infamous resounding Tarzan calls. Laugh? Did I? · After a night out baby sitting 3 drunken doctor friends in a hostile Rio nightclub, one got into a kerfuffle with the cashiers, claiming they had taken her credit card. After 5 minutes of disagreement I asked if I could look in her bag, as Rob and I were on the verge of being eaten alive by some lovely bouncers the size of old JC on the hill. First item found was the afore mentioned credit card and upon showing this to our learned doctor friend she just turned to the cashier and continued the argument, shouting “ I`m not signing for anything!”. Please all get private health care plans today. · We braved the infamous Lapa street party, where pickpockets are rife and everyone in our group was felt up for money, I was the only one who was disappointed as no one tried to pickpocket me! The average number was three attempts each! I even tried enticing them by hanging small amounts of money out of my pockets but still no luck! So I decided to call it a night and go home. 5 minutes later the two lads I was with were held up at gunpoint 50 metres away. Some guys have all the luck……. Anyway – off from the sand to the snow! Messner x