monday 19/9/2011

It was a couple of hours drive to Colca Canyon but the lads were stilled pissed and hadnt had any sleep by the time they pulled up at their first stop. This was at a viewpoint to check out the condors which the canyon is famous for. They were pretty amazing birds, 3 metre wingspans, and plenty of them around to get some awesome photos with the canyon as a backdrop. The canyon was pretty cool too, was meant to be the second biggest in the world, twice as deep as the grand canyon at 3600 metres. The trek down into the canyon started at about 9 in the morning and was fairly challenging for people that had no hiking equipment or sleep. However, there was some sensational scenery about the place some pretty rugged cliffs etc, as the lads staggered into the bottom of the canyon and devoured lunch in a little village (f*** knows why they built a village at the bottom of the canyon). The hike then meandered along the floor of the canyon for the afternoon until the destination for the evening was reached, the "oasis". It was a pretty cool little spot, with pools everywhere and palm trees and s***, and an abundance of oxygen theiving hippies making the place look untidy. After a dinner fit for big-swingers, it was straight to the scratcher to nail the best sleep of the trip-the lads had to be up at 5 to crawl their way out of the canyon.

tuesday 20/9/2011

The guide had warned everyone the night before that the trek out of the canyon was going to be extremely tough, as it was very steep and the altitude at the top was over 4000 metres above sea level. The lads were told to allow three hours to get there but instead they were more interested in hearing what the record time was to get to the top. It was one hour 40 apparently, most likely set by some limp-wristed europeans who had never heard of cocaine, funnels and marlboro reds. Anyway the boys f***en ripped into that mountain side before daylight in their suitable skate shoes, and started passing rooks at will. There was a lot of deep burns heading up, but with lung capacities exercised to their pinnacles over the last few months, that record was looking like it was going to be raped. The trio got to the top in 1 hour 45 minutes narrowly missing out, but a f***en stirling effort considering their physical states. The next people didnt even show for another half an hour, then it was a long wait for the rest of the group to appear before breakfast could be smashed. After a nutritional breakfast of bread filled with delicious air, it was back on the bus to head to some hot pools to ease the muscles that had just taken a pounding. Before heading there though it was a quick stop at a tourist-molested village where kids were dancing and the lads could get a photo with Llamas, Alpacas and eagles. The bus made it back to Arequipa at roughly 6 where the boys could chill out before catching their bus at 9 to Cusco. It had been a good couple days of exercise and teetotalling, which was necessary before the introduction of Benjamin "I hate Piss" Sandall, in Cusco the following morning. Eddy, Balf and Gus were nervous about his arrival to say the least, but none of them had the remotest inkling of just how raucous it was going to be...

wednesday 21/9/2011

The boys got to Cuscos "wild rover" hostel at 8 in the morning where apparently sandall had stayed the previous evening and booked them all a room. The lads asked at reception if they knew who sandall was and had he been drinking the night before. The receptionist cracked up laughing at this, and informed them that sandall had indeed been hammered drunk the night before. This was in between sips of white wine that she was drinking (remembering this is the receptionist at 8 am). Anyway the lads checked in and set about locating sandall. They found a carcass that looked like tom hanks in the castaway, in a bed that wasnt his. It would appear that sandall also didnt want to miss out on all the firefighting fun that balf and eddy had been having in south america. They managed to shift hammered drunk sandall down to the bar wearing just his pissundies, and with the help of a few other hostel patrons, managed to peice together his night for him. according to a couple of f***wit scottish c*** , it turns out he had been power-chucking uncontrollably all over the place, getting nude and dancing on the bar. One of the jocks was pretty dark and was abusing sandall for yundering all over the back of his expensive suit. As it was 9am by this stage and sandall was still steaming, he deemed it necessary to purchase a couple of bottles of red wine, loosen the other three boys tongues and have a catch up on some yarns from the last 6 months or so. Possibly sandalls most amusing yarn was 24 hours previous-En route to cusco on a six hour stop-over in Buenos Aires airport, he purchased a bottle of gin, booked it by himself and doesnt remember getting on the flight or the flight itself, apart from being shifted away from the emergency window, and people being shifted away from him.

The sober three were pretty keen to stay sober and sort some s*** out that day, including the attendance of a vital briefing for their incan trail trip over the next four days.But anyone who has ever had the pleasure of consuming alcohol with ben sandall will know its impossible to utter the words "no", when excessive amounts of pressure dust are applied, so the two bottles were dismantled before sandall had blown out and waddled to bed to get some kip (still in undies). After the first group feed of traditional peruvian food kfc, the boys made their meeting and got their heads around the plans for their trip. Then the hammer came down-big time. The other three were introduced to Sandalls new-found fetish for drinking "White Russians" in a f***en huge way, and in return Sandall was introduced to the lads new passion for "White Powder". The hostel bar was the biggest one the boys had been in yet, packed full of people and absolutely cranking. And after heading to nearby clunge-club "Mama Africas" and locating the resident coke-provider, the boys were absolutely cranking too. After getting the taste for the gears, sandall as usual went overboard and ended up buying 8 grams of the s*** over the evening. Although the boys were wired to f*** they all somehow managed to gain the attention of four peruvian girls who were down from Lima (and possibly down to f***). Sandall was all over the shop cutting shapes and trying desperately to put his girls hands down his pants, not at all deterred by a couple of slaps. Eddy, meanwhile was on to bunt his first pipi of the trip, mauling the face of an extremely good-looking bird with amazing mammary glands in the corner. At about 5am, the boys had to unfortunately leave their female friends and f*** off back to the hostel to potentially get some sleep, as their guide and tour van were picking them up at 7am. Obviously there was zero sleep going on, so the boys set about raking up the hostel with the help of a couple of english girls. They got told off countless times by security for waking everyone up, and the final straw before being kicked out of the hostel was sandall getting nude and offering to help the cleaner mop the floor (in perfect spanish).

Thursday 22/9/2011

At 7am the guide had turned up to the hostel in the van to pick up the four pieces of s***. Expecting to find four well-rested, physically fit and culturally aware young men from the Antipodes, the guide instead found four pissed sleep-deprived, darting c*** coked out of their heads. After handing back the hostel cat (which nearly made it onto the van), the boys sparked up some more lung rockets and settled in for the 3 hour trip to the mountain pass where they would kickstart the trail with a days downhill mountain-biking. The age-old expression, "what goes up, must come down" couldnt have been more truer on the mornings journey-That was until balf busted out a sneaky couple of grams from the previous evening and let them loose on some eager beaks in the rear of the van. By the time the van had reached the destination, the boys were still wired to f***, and keen as mustard to hit this downhill s***. It was an amazing trip down the hill, 60km in total, the day made all the more enjoyable by the sneaky top-up stops to take the edge off life. The boys guide was called Henry, a local joker who was nothing short of a f***en Gary, and bucked the standard Peruvian trend of being a retarded canine fornicator. At the end of a very long day, Henry had managed to get the boys into their hostel for the night in a small town called San Maria. The Lads were grateful for Henry taking them out to a local restaurant for some epic traditional fare, before crashing early to the fartsacks in preparation for the 20km hike the following day.

Friday 23/09/2011

Henry had the sacks up at a sparrows fart in the morning and straight to a restaurant to nail a feed of bread and scrambled chook bum nuts. After finding sandall a pair of shoes to replace his fijian safety boots that he thought were appropriate for four days Incan trail hiking, the group of six took off. An Australian joker by the name of Luke had also joined the group (fairly sound bloke, but a possible rump ranger). The crew charged along tracks through bush and mountains all day that werent overly challenging, only stopping for Henry to pass on some knowledge, and for the boys to dispatch some West Virginian killing-sticks. The days trek roughly followed a river the whole way and the boys got to check out stuff like wild pineapples, passionfruits, avocadoes, other random s*** fruits and some coca plantations. Along the stretch of the steepest part of the days hike, there was a series of shacks selling various refreshments, and also monkeys and Capybaras. The monkeys were f***en classic-especially one who was on the boys wavelength instantly, grabbing the funnel in a perfect stance ready to drink, and also helping himself to one of Marlboros finest reds from the packet. Maybe the lads arent so evolved after all. After lunch it was a couple of hours waddle upstream to make it to some natural hot pools intelligently situated beneath a massive set of shingle screes. To get to the hot pools however, the lads had to cross the rampaging mountain river two at a time in a zip wire cage, operated by a rope pulley system. The pools were the last stop of the day and a fantastic way to unwind after following in the Incas footsteps. The funnel made an appearance at the pools, much to the amusement of the hundred or so people who were fortunate enough to witness some efficiency drinking in some of the best surroundings nature has to offer. It was a quick shimmy up the road to the nights accommodation in a sick little jungle lodge, where the lads sat round and had a couple of beers round the dinner table and chewed the fat with guide Henry. Henry opened up to the lads how he thought that when he first met them at the hostel steamed up, punching darts and swiping cats, that he was in for a terrible week. But after a couple of days with them he couldnt beleive how fast they were at walking, especially at altitude with the constant cigarette smoking. He then briefed them on the next days walk which was meant to be fairly challenging, particularly the first mountain which was meant to take 3 hours to get up. Henry foolishly answered when one of the lads asked him what the record was for a group to get up the first mountain- 1 hour and 43 minutes. Testosterone was thick in the air as the lads egged each other on to try and beat the record the next day. So it was an early departure to the scratcher to prepare those muscles for the next day, while guide Henry was having second thoughts about telling the boys about that record...

Saturday 24/09/2011

The team was up at 5am smashing bread and luscious gigantic avocadoes in preparation for the mornings uphill jaunt. The group was dropped off at the start of the trail, where a photo was taken and Henry prepared to start his stopwatch. Then the lads and Ozzy Luke f***ing tore into that hillside with a vengeance. The lads were f***ing determined, and the desire to stamp their names all over that mountain meant that a brisk pace had to be employed-even running the semi-flat stages. Sweating like blind lesbians in a fish market, the boys discovered that the track only got exponentially steeper, which wasnt ideal as the air got thinner, the water ran out, and the legs got f***ed. Having Kiwi hard c*** attitudes meant that the lads made it to the top with the minimal of rests though and waited a couple of minutes for guide Henry to arrive and give them their time. 6 years, 400 groups and the best time to the top was 1 hour 43 minutes. Until today. It was darts all round when Henry read out the time of 1 hour 12 minutes!!!!!!The boys didnt just break the record-they f***ing buried it. It was a major slap in the face for the heart foundation, and guide Henry just sat on a log sweating, shaking his head in pure disbelief, while the "Mountain Killers" jumped around puffing on their durries. After the excitement had worn off, the group made their way along a path that opened up to some sunny views of Machu Picchu in the distance. Because the boys were too early for their lunch, they had a couple of hours slugging in the sun, where it became evident that Balf was beginning to suffer from some sort of mystery illness involving his internal organs. After lunch it was a shaky old walk down to a valley on the other side,and a couple of hours following a river downstream to a train station. Waiting for the train to take them to Agua Calientes (The base for the walk up Macchu Picchu the next day), a little incan toddler took a major interest in the funnel in Balfs bag. Balf took it out for her, and it made for a couple of hilarious photos as the Spiclet started putting the funnel on her head and refused to return it. After a short train journey, the lads arrived in Agua Calientes, which was a groovy little mountain-side town, divided several times by a couple of gushing rivers, and a couple of train tracks. The boys managed to find a pub that played a replay of the All Blacks game, and they had great delight in watching New Zealand bend the frogs over and absolutely pump them. It was a reasonably early night for the lads, as they had to be up before dawn again to start the walk up to Machu picchu.

Sunday 25/09/2011

Balf had a mean sleep, up most of the night s***ting in litres. This didnt stop the crew though, charging up to machu picchu within an hour to be first in line to be let into the historic site at 6am-another first for guide Henry. Being first meant that some natural photos could be taken of Machu Picchu without all the crowds being in them. The funnel had been lugged around for the last four days so that a photo could be taken of it in front of machu Picchu so eddy and sandall lined one up with Henry unwillingly taking the picture. Henry spent a couple of hours taking the boys all around the site filling them up with interesting facts, before leaving them to climb Wayna Picchu, a steep mountain face adjacent to the Main citadel that offered scintillating views. Only two hundred people are allowed to climb it as it was blatantly another OSH approved activity, the boys having to use ropes and their hands to get to the top. The climb was worth it though, the photos taken nothing short of spectacular. The climb down again was also fairly challenging, especially for balf who coughed up some delicious stomach acid and was on the verge of collapsing. The boys made it back into Agua Calientes for their lunch at around 2 or 3 and checked balf into a hotel to pass out for a few hours, while they met up with guide Henry and had a farewell lunch. It had been an awesome few days of intense hiking and breath-taking scenery and the boys were grateful to Henry for being an absolute horsecock of a guide.

At around 6 in the evening the lads had a train to catch to get back to Cusco that night, so Sandall, Eddie and Gus purchased a few sneaky beverages to inhale on the journey. They made it back to Cusco at 10pm parched as f***, and put the hammer down, leaving Balf to get a good nights sleep. It was open mic night at the Wild Rover back in Cusco so the boys ripped into it, causing the usual scene at the bar. The night must have been going reasonably slow, because sandall felt the need to duck off on a coke patrolling mission on behalf of the boys. He shot down to "Mama Africas" again, and after waiting for the lads hook-up with the rastafarian beanie for an hour, he managed to get his hands on a necessary eight grams of booger sugar. He returned pleased as punch back to Wild Rover and then Eddy and Gus helped him to strain up some wire. To be honest the trio cant remember f*** all from the rest of the evening, apart from Gus randomly meeting up with his bird Leslie from Arequipa and holding hands with her for four hours, getting twisted again in "Mama Africas", buying more gears, and Sandall piggybacking Eddy at 7am in the morning only to drop him on his head.

Monday 26/09/2011

Even though Balf was in a different room from the other lads he was woken up by eddy and sandalls s*** chat down in reception at roughly 730am. They were coked to the eyeballs and still hammering piss, the chance of sleeping looking very f***en remote indeed. Even after balf had been to the doctors (slogan at the doctors -"Oxygen your dreams"), and made it back at midday, Eddy and Sandall hadnt slowed down in the slightest, entertaining half a dozen other hostel members in the garden bar with a bevvy of white russians, and some disgusting anecdotes from Kalgoorlie. Balfs latest ailment of a rampant Kidney/bladder infection and the required 8 days of antibiotics was no match for Benjamin Sandalls peer pressure, and he found himself being bullied into slurping on a beer. The afternoon went steadily downhill after that-Sandall had a shot of medicinal alcohol and went completely sideways, eventually having to being shown the way to bed. Eddy had the stamina though and managed to keep going with gus and Balf, who were getting on well with a good group of hard case Irish ladies. There was a similiar game to spin the bottle going on at the bar with the girls, and gus and Balf managed to help each other tactically to hook into a few girls each. At around about ten, it was time to wake sandall up and dish him up a cold plate of his own pressure grill. It wasnt to be though, he was absolutely f***ed, couldnt drink and ended up spewing through the Tv room and passing out in the lobby, much to the disgust of a few females. The other three boys made it into town though, back to Mama Africas with the group of Irish lasses in tow, Balfs dodgy rectum managing to hold it together for an hour or so, even with the concoction of antibiotics, cocaine and piss. To cut a long story short, the boys all danced wired up in a homosexual fashion, and found themselves back at the hostel in bed with an Irish girl each. The first gringo girls of the trip didnt get nailed however for a variety of s*** reasons- Eddies one was bleeding, Guses one was in a room with 16 other w****s, and Balfs one who was in a room with just him, didnt want to root even though she put his doodle in her mouth.

Tuesday 27/09/2011

A pretty nil day had by all-The lads were hungover as f*** and disapointed again from not nailing vagina. Sandall spent the day still spewing his ring out with suspected alcohol poisoning, as his last drink had been over 24 hours ago. They had a bus to catch in the evening to head on down to Copacabana on the shore of Lake Titicaca, then La Paz in Bolivia, so they slugged in a spew stenched TV room and fittingly watched the Hangover movies.