Machu Picchu (10-13 July)

The train to Machu Pichhu has got to be one of the biggest money makers in the country - about £30 one way to the village next to the famous Inca site, Aguas Calientes. And thats for the cheapo version. For the ultra Orient Express version, you're looking at closer to £150 for the 3 hour journey, which admittedly goes through some stunning scenery, and also smugly past some struggling trekkers. Its a monopoly, but even more frustrating as we later find out, the company that runs the trains is British, so the majority of the money that us tourists spend doesnt even stay in Peru! Who says that the colonies are dead - we're still out there raping and pillaging and sending it all back for king and country!

Anyway the village of Aguas Calientes is as you would expect, there to get as much cash from gringo tourists as possible, but since we want to get to Machu Picchu early so that we can climb Huayna Picchu (aka Wayne Picchu) we have to spend the night prior.

We're up at dawns crack to catch one of the endless mini busses that climb up the final few kms to Machu Picchu, and get in line at 7am for one of the precious 400 daily passes to climb Wayne. Its not long until we're told that actually we are in position 406 and 407, so we shant be mounting Wayne today, but we can come back tomorrow and queue. Thanks. Still we're in Machu Picchu so mustn't grumble, even though we've obeyed the rules and havent brought in any plastic bottles of water or food to keep us going, and there are people all around us glugging down their coca-cola and enjoying a picnic breakfast. Hmph.

Besides those two negatives, we do enjoy MP. Its an amazing place, another one of those temples around the world that makes you think. Why would you build this here in the most inhospitable geography possible? And how, 500 years ago did you manage to get all the materials up this enormous hill? Its small though, much smaller than Angkor Wat or Petra, and by 930am we've seen most of the highlights, and taken the majority of the required photos. To make up for the lack of climbing Wayne, we do find a smaller trek out to the Inca bridge, along which we are accompanied by Pedro the perro, who proves to be an able guide, if a little quiet. Back in the main site and approaching midday, we're starting to feel the lack of liquid and manage only half an hour or so more wandering about the residential side of the site, before heading back outside the main entrance to find something to drink. Its a grand place Machu Picchu, but we cant help feeling a little short changed as its hard not to compare it to some of the other, much more impressive sites that we have visited over the last 10 months. We imagine that actually doing the Inca trail makes the arrival there after 4 nights under the stars all the more satisfying, but chatting to people who had completed the trek, we are sure that we made the correct choice as it sounds in parts, pretty hard work, and for sure, by the time that you get there, you're in no mood to climb Wayne, or to trek back down to Aguas Calientes like we do.

We stay another night in Aguas as there were no cheap trains back down that day, and the next day it is throwing down, so at least we can feel pleased that we visited under glorious blue skies. We see a couple of British girls who had camped the night before, trekked up the hill that morning, spent about 90mins there, and then feeling miserable cold and wet got the bus back to the station, the only dry place they could think of, where they would wait for their afternoon train. Bless. They are drenched through, but it true British style still have a smile on their faces.

Once back in Cuzco with our big bags intact, we head off to find the no1 restaurant which we missed on our earlier visit to Cuzco, only to find that its closed on a Sunday. Darn. There are plenty of other places to try out, and we've decided that we should try the local speciality guinea pig. He comes prostrate on a plate, and although looks enticing, is bloody disgusting, and not to be recommended. What looks like crunchy crackling-y skin is rubbery gelatinous goo, and there isnt a great deal of meat. All the innards are still there though, and the head is still complete with teeth and brain. Hey ho, you have to try these things, and I never thought that I would have found something that I enjoyed eating less than the sheep's brains we had in Marrakech some years ago. As they say, travel broadens the mind...

Peru - to Cuzco and on to Machu Picchu (6 - 10 July)

The journey to Cuzco isnt quite as straightforward as hoped when we bought our through ticket in La Paz. First off, we're put into a taxi and sent off to the border, about 10 mins away, having handed over our ticket, breaking the first rule of travelling. But we get there, sort out the paperwork in Bolivia, walk over a bridge into Peru, and get the relevant stamp from immigration, and then find a driver from our company (there is only one guy with a mini bus there.) Everyone knows about the 2 gringos who want to go all the way to Cuzco, all the other tourists are stopping off in Puno for a day or two (dont they know there is a strike??!) so when we get to Puno bus station, we're met by a lady with two onward tickets to Cuzco on a decent sized coach. Not decent enough though for practically the whole of Peru who seem to want to get on the bus to Cuzco with a lot, if not all of their worldly belongings. They certainly know that there is a strike for three days. Slightly reminiscent of the bus trips in India that we took 8 months ago, the roads are pretty bumpy, but at least there arent dozens of people on the roof (they would freeze its so cold once the sun goes down) and we're not being stared at...

After arriving close to midnight, the next morning we realise that Cuzco, is a really nice place, which is good as we have three days here to kill. The Spanish influence on the place is evident - there are lots of churches and cathedrals promoting Catholicism. They were complete b'stards the conquistadores, destroying the Inca temples and important buildings so that they could build their temples to Christianity. However, they were kind enough to include a nod here and there to local customs to make them more user friendly. So in the, admittedly rather impressive, cathedral complex, you can see a recreation of the Last Supper painting, with local delicacy, guinea pig, sitting as the plat du jour in front of Jesus and his disciples.

As the nearest major city to Machu Picchu, Cuzco relies heavily on the tourist dollar, so there is quite a bit of hassle from local sellers pushing their woollen hats or pictures of local sites. Possibly the most unique to this Andean location is the women with baby llamas offering photos for about 20p. We find some decent places to eat, apart from the no1 destination on trip advisor which we give up on and tuck into a surprise almuerzo about 5 doors along. Only a surprise as we didnt really understand what was on the menu, which is always fun.

The further into the trip, the more we find that we can waste time pretty easily, especially as our local market has some cheap Malbec from Argentina on offer, and we're still carrying the 2l bottle of ready made cuba libre. So after a few days of reading books, pottering around town and nursing fuzzy heads, we have to head off early to get the train to Machu Picchu. Fortunately, the fab Incama hostel is happy to look after our big bags (which are looking even more touch and go that they will make it to a full year without falling apart - bloody cheap American rubbish!) and send us on our way to the train station.

More Bolivia - La Paz & Lake Titicaca (3-6 July)

We'd found out about the World's Most Dangerous Road from Kathryn & Jeremy who we got drunk with in Paraty. Its no longer that dangerous as teh Bolivians have built a new road taking away all the traffic from this dirt track that goes from 4200m - 1800m, so an easy ride down a big hill that starts in barren snow bound surroundings, and ends in tropical warmth. And its great fun - amazing views, and pretty exhilarating with sheer drops of 100s of metres off the side of the track. And nothing as sensible as safety barriers. Our group of 13 almost make it to the bottom unscathed, but about 50m from the lodge where our ride ends, on probably the safest part some dogs run out in front of one guy who goes over the handlebars. Great fun though, and a great day out to get some oxygen from a lower, less polluted part of Bolivia.

We're pretty exhausted back in La Paz, and have an early night as we're up early the next morning to head off to Copacabana, which has a beautiful position on the banks of Lake Titicaca. Its only 3 hrs or so away, and still high to cause us problems, especaially after enoying a beer with lunch. The altitude inspired hangover hit about an hour after a beer, making us feel like the lightest of lightweights, and having to return to our room for the rest of the day. Fortunately we had a great place to recover - a great little hotel called La Cupula. They only had the honeymoon suite left when we arrived (how apt) which was probably the best place we have stayed in all trip, and all for US$34 per night.

Next morning, we are up early-ish to head over to Isla Sol - the birthplace of the sun in Inca mythology. Its not far, but the publi boat we get is the slowest ever as it chugs its way to the north end of the island. We then hke along the coast to the south end to pick up the boat back - not the best of ideas at altitude as we're breathless after about 10 steps of the first up. But we make it, exhausted, and suffering a bit more from the altitude. Not the brightest idea we have ever had, but some great views across the enormous lake. Fortunately our great hotel also has a great restaurant so we dont have to stumble too far to get some supper...

We've been quite lucky with our travel plans so far, not a lot has had to be changed, but next morning, when we go down to confirm our onward bus tickets to Cuzco in Peru, we learn that there is a strike about to start for 3 days. We can go today, or wait 4 days until Friday. We'd also discovered that there was a train strike this week in Peru, so as we've chickened out of trekking the Inca trail for 5 days, the train is our only other option, which we've already booked for Friday morning. So we've gotta go. Now. We've got plenty of time, which is just as well, as rushing around at this altitude is not an option, so soon we're off to Peru, just a day ahead of expected!

Getting to Bolivia and up to La Paz (30 June - 2 July)

Our Bolivian train from Quijarro to Santa Cruz doesnt leave until 4pm, but we have to get tickets, so set off early-ish from COrumba to cross the border. First stop is the police station to get our Brazilian departure stamp, and then onto the local bus to the border, and then a short walk into Bolivia, where we can change some Reals to Bolivanos, and then jump in a cab to the station. The comparison to Brazil is quite stark. Bolivia is a much poorer country than Brazil - the streets are much dustier, with more people on them waiting for something to happen. The shops are emptier, and the people seem more withered, but it also means that everything is much cheaper! However, it does have a train system, which will be the first train we have used since we were in New Zealand...

We've a lot of time to kill in Quijarro, and not a lot to help fill it before we get on El tren de los muerte, which translates as the death train - so named because by the time you've covered the 350 or so km 18 hours later, you're ready to kill yourself... It wasnt that bad as we managed to sleep most of the way despite it being possibly the bounciest train we have ever seen.

Anyway after saying bon voyage to Esther, we met a Brazilian couple who were racing up to Macchu Picchu during their fortnight's winter holiday, and wanted to get on the same plane as us, so we shared a cab out to the airport and managed to check in, even though the flight wasnt for another 8 hours - makes you realise how frustrating it is flying with Easyjet or Ryanair. Anyway so we had a day to hang out in Santa Cruz, which was probably enough - nice square to potter around, and some decent lunch, but we were happy to get on the plane to La Paz. What we have noticed mind is a lot of Bolivians are wearing masks - presumably to protect themselves from swine flu...

Shame we arrived in the dark, as am sure it would have been great views on the approach. The airport sits at 4400m, even higher than the city, and the first symptom of being at altitude is the breathlessness from the simplest action (like going to the loo!) It felt a lot more that we were on an adventure in La Paz as the rest of South America has felt very European, but here the people look different, there's lots of odd things for sale (dead llama foetuses to bury under your door step for good luck) and its all dirt cheap. Its also really polluted with old busses and minivans pumping out tonnes of diesel fumes - not too pleasant. Its also pretty chilly pottering around the centre - markets, squares and checking out women wearing bowler hats. Its an OK place, but we'll look forward to moving on after we achieve what we have come to La Paz for - surviving mountain biking down the world's dangerous road...

Pantanal and on to Bolivia (25-29 June)

We're really proud of ourselves having found flights out to the gateway of the Pantanal - Campo Grande for only about £15 more than the bus. 24 hours on a bus or 3 on a plane? Sorry carbon footprint. We have to leave Christophe's at 530am, to get back to Rio for the flight, which touches down en route in Sao Paulo.

Campo Grande is a bit of a nothing town, reminds us of India in a lot of ways - but run down, with not a lot going on. We do see a toucan sitting on top of a building though. No restaurants of note, but we find a snack bar to keep us going until breakfast.

We're off the next morning on our Pantanal tour - an area of Brazil reknowned for its density of nature, matching the Amazon for piranhas, alligators, the world's biggest rodent (aka a capybara), and lots of birds. Occasionally even a jaguar, so we're pretty expectant as we check into our lodge, in the middle of nowhere. Its a working farm, which accepts tourists as a side venture, and is pretty comfortable with a swimming pool, great food (and lots of it) and very very strong caipirinhas.

We really enjoy our time in the Pantanal, which is packed with activities - boat trip by day and by night - at night seeing all of the alligator eyes reflecting the light is very eerie - fortunately they dont chomp on humans. Hikes through the bush where we encounter howler monkeys, who, after our guide jonny gets them sufficiently aggitated by shouting at them, shit and piss at us from the tree tops. We also go horse-riding and piranha fishing - two new activities for me, and jolly enjoyable ones too, despite the fact that Luce is a much more proficient fisher, winning 5-1, and see al the requisite animals, apart from the jaguar. After a last afternoon sunning ourselves, we leave the lodge fully natured out, and head off to Corumba, on the border with Bolivia with our new German friend Esther in tow.

Not much to report in Corumba - we're too late to get over to Bolivia, and the town of Quijarro where the train to Santa Cruz awaits us, so we're forced to spend a night here, and after a couple of beers and a chat with a local guy, we're pleased that we have decided to fly from Santa Cruz to La Paz, as although a fraction of the price, the busses sound like they are prone to take even longer than the predicted 18 hours (its one on a plane!)

Its been a great few weeks in Brazil, and the sheer variety of landscapes and activities on offer make it one of our favourite places - even though there is a huge area to the north that we havent even ventured towards, including of course the mighty Amazon. We will be back here to head back to Rio to fly home once and for all, and will pass the Iguacu Falls en route, but the North will have to wait for another trip...

Rio de Janeiro again & Arurama (20 - 25 June)

After two fantastic weeks in Italy and France seeing friends and family, we return to Brazil thoroughly relieved of any homesickness that may have been starting to creep in. This feels a lot more like real life now, and that everyday life back in Europe, the pretend lifestyle that we will move onto in a couple of months. A couple of months, thats all we have left, so better get on with it.

Even though we land late at 930pm, we feel quite at ease getting back to Botafogo our usual hunting ground in Rio. We cant get back into the previous hostel as it is booked, but find somewhere around the corner, which isnt quite as nice, but will do the job. After a 5am start in Cannes, getting here has taken about 22 hours, and even with a nice layover in the BA lounge in Heathrow, we still are asleep instantly.

Next day we spend down at Copacabana - it hasnt changed much in a fortnight, neither has the great Prince Churrascaria where we eat that evening. We feel like expert travellers now imparting advice to others over breakfast about where to go, how to get there etc.

We hadnt planned to stay long in Rio, so we head off next day to Arurama and Christophe & Orlando's place, a great pousada that they are in the middle of developing so that they can rent out. Its in the middle of nowhere with great views, and a great garden full of exotic fruit (including amazing passion fruits to make the caipirinhas) They've also got a fine selection of dogs to keep them company and a cheeky white cat to whom I develop a somewhat annoying allergy, sneezing and sniffing whenever he comes close to, which he seems to enjoy doing...

We have three great days with Christophe and Orlando hanging out at the nearby beaches, one of which Arraial do Cabo could well be the best beach that we have seen all year with beautiful fine white sand, azure seas and pretty isolated so hardly anyone there, and no coca cola anywhere nearby. They drive around in a beach buggy and it seems like a good idea to head back along the sands after our trip to the beach, until we get stuck, and the tide starts to come in! Despite all our pushing and digging out, things are looking bleak, even with the help of another buggy trying to drag us out. But eventually, when it is dark all around us, we start to move a little, and then its out, leaving behind a huge hole, which could have been its grave. Lesson learnt - always deflate your tyres before driving on sand. We're late home for Orlando's birthday party, but soon dig in to the passion fruit caipirinhas once again, and its the sort of thing that we can look back and laugh at. All good Brazilian adventures, and we're pretty exhausted when we get up at 530am the next morning to head to the Pantanal with the cat prowling around as we leave, sneezing and sniffing.

Rio de Janeiro (2-6 June)

Its an early-ish start to get off Ilha Grande and up to Rio, but after doing not a great deal, we've plenty of time, and of course, the weather is glorious as we board the cheap public ferry over to Angra. It chugs its way past beautiful beaches bathed in sunshine with blue skies. Ah well, you win some... Once we've worked out how to get to the bus station in Angra, we pile onto a local collectivo and feel proud of ourselves as we get to the interstate bus station as a bus to Rio pulls in, even though we feel like we're paying the foreigner price to travel. Its a pretty regular bus journey, nothing to report apart from the usual frustrating stop for 20mins about an hour away from our destination.

The approach to the bus station in Rio is pretty uninspiring. We're reminded a bit of India once again with the run down buildings of the favelas. We've had warnings left and right about safety in Rio. Friends of friends who have been mugged or pickpocketed, lots of panicked people who have recently visited, but all the Brits who we have met are a bit more down to earth about it all - just need to keep your wits about you. We decide to get a cab from the bus station, a bit of a treat, but there isnt a metro station at the rodoviaria, and we're not in the mood for working out the local busses.

Our hostel is in Botafogo district, on the way to Copacabana, but not really noteworthy for a lot else. We have a potter around, and end up at the bar on the corner of our street, which is typical of Brazil in general - a little snack bar with plastic furniture serving cold beer. Perfect. Back at our hostel, in house cook Sonia is knocking up bargain buffet dinner so we join in. Good Brazilian food like your mother would make, if she was Brazilian...

We've been paying close attention to the weather forecast for the next three days - we're expecting a couple of beach perfect days, but today is supposed to be cloudy and rain, so we head into the rather uninspiring central district for a potter around. Its lunchtime, so all the workers are out and about, and there are some nice buildings, churches etc to look at (as in Buenos Aires, the theatre is closed for refurb) but it doesnt really feel like it has a pulsating heart. So we head off to sugarloaf mountain to get a good view of the city.

This is a bit more like it. Get a bit lost on the bus, but eventually the driver points where we want to be. Overpriced for the tourists, but astounding views from the top of the first cable car over to Christ and the bay and city over which he watches. Its another cable car up to the top of SUgar loaf where we get our first view over to Copacabana and Ipanema beaches, where hopefully we will be for the next couple of days. Its a nice place to hang out - the sun is out but its a bit breezy, so we decide to head back down and find some sunset beers and Brazilian croquet-like snacks (one chicken one meat) looking out over some boats bobbing away, and of course Jesus on his hill in the distance looking down on us.

We've clocked a decent looking pizza place nearby for supper, and are thrilled to find out its an all you can eat. The Portuguese for which, rodizario, sounds much nicer than the English. The pizzas are a bit beige, apart from the very acceptable tomato and basil. We're soon stuffed.

The sun does as its supposed to the next day so we head down to Ipanema. Its a much more upmarket suburb than the centre, and the beach is great too - although the sea is Bondi-rough so tricky to negotiate. This is what holidays are all about, and even the endless stream of sellers cant dent our mood. We're old hats at dealing with them though since they're not a patch on the hounding Indian guys we met in Goa.

We found a churrascaria for dinner, around the corner from the world class Copacabana Palace hotel. The food is awesome. Its such a long time since we have been presented with so many of our favourite foods at the buffet and an even longer time since I have been speechless from choice of supper. Watercress, carpaccio, blue cheese mmmmmmmmmm and then of course the waiters bring us endless skewers of meat from the grill, and go running off to find rare garlic filet when we mention it. Oh and the caipirinhas go down very well too. Happy days.

Its even warmer the next day when we head down to the COpacabana beach. There has been an endless soundtrack to Rio, Duran Duran, Barry Manilow and the Girl from Ipanema (no idea who sang it originally) Another great beach, slightly less rough seas than Ipanema, and a happy happy day. We were planning to go out to another churrascaria tonight, but after the great night at the palace, we decide to indulge in Sonia's supper once more, and a pair of yummy kiwi caipirinhas. The offer of a night out with the guys who run our hostel is there, but they arent going out till 11pm. Given that its 7pm and we're already onto the next round of caipirinhas, we dont think that we will make it. Feeling like the old grandparents once again, its an early night instead.

Final day in Rio before a fortnight in Europe, and it feels a bit sad to be going back, even though its just for another fun part of holiday, not to actually go back to our old lives. Anyway, it also happens to be football day, and England beating Kazakhstan 4-0 is followed by Brazil beating Uruguay 4-0 in MOntevideo, and the South Americans put on a much better game than we do. We watch the Brazilian victory in our little local bar, and have some late lunch in the little all you van eat pizza place, this time going for the healthier por kilo option, which is almost as great as at the churrascaria the other night.

And then thats it. Waved off by the guys in our hostel, hauling the bags to the bus stop, not too long to wait for the airport bus, and then we're surrounded by tourists heading back to Europe or USA, who cant manage to work out which terminal they need to be at and order COFFEE WITH MILK in loud English. Of course we are the expert travellers and know it all by now, but we hope that we are a little more tolerant of other cultures! Looking forward to coming back to Brazil already...

Paraty, Trinidade & Ilha Grande (23 May - 2 June)

After a fun couple of days in the big city, its good to be back on the beach in Paraty. Jabaquaria Beach, opposite our hostel isnt the most beautiful - its an almost closed in bay with rivers coming into it, so muddy in the water more than sandy, but its flat calm, so nice for swimming, the sun is hot, and its 24 steps from our room to our spot on the sand. Only thing is though, it feels like we are on the wrong time zone, as the sun goes behind the mountains at about 430, and its dark by 600pm, so beer o'clock feels a lot later than it should. Still, having a beer with the sand between our toes is still one of our most favourite activities at any time of the day.

We end up spending a lot longer in Paraty than originally planned - the weather up in Salvador looks very rainy, so we take the executive decision to stay in the sun much longer, where we have a comfortable bed to sleep in, and lots to do nearby. We have a couple of days out in Trinidade, a 45 min or so bus ride along the coast, through some spectacular scenery to a great stretch of picture postcard sand, and a good couple of beach bars to provide that end of day beer.

We also venture inland to a series of waterfalls that are just like water slides, and lots of fun too. Even on the couple of overcast days we manage to entertain ourselves with new found friends Kathryn, Jeremy and the 3 Real bottle of vodka (about £1) and watching the last match of the Premiership which sees Newcastle and Middlesbrough both relegrated, and Sunderland hanging on by the skin of their teeth. Its almost worthwhile hunting out old school friends on facebook to laugh at them, but not quite.

Paraty itself is a cute cobbled street town, that is firmly on the tourist trail, but none the worse for it. We're in the middle of a religious festival, so the streets are lined with food stalls, including the giant empanada man (30cm of pastry filled with meat mmmmm) and bunting has been hung to make it look even more picture postcard perfect.

But after 8 days, its time to move on again, to the Ilha Grande, and one of the so called best beaches in Brazil. Its tricky to get to - a couple of hours on the bus, and then a ferry connection, and tourism is actively kept to a minimum - no high rise buildings, and no cars allowed on the island, so it could well be a paradise island, but the weather isnt on our side, and although we get a fairly decent day for our trip over to the fabled Lopes Mendes beach, which is stunning, we dont get the blue sky, blazing sunshine that would make it all complete. Until of course on the day that we leave, when we're heading out the shade as we drag our bags to the ferry landing, and then onto the bus station on the mainland as we head for our first visit to Rio.

Sao Paulo (21-23 May)

Sao Paulo is one of the biggest cities in the world with about 17 million inhabitants, and a lot of them seem to be out on the streets making our progress into the city centre rather slow. However, its a pretty modern place, with an first rate metro system to get us down to Hostel Villa Madelena, which is run by one of the most helpful people we have ever met! He gives us some great tips on where to enjoy the best art, get the best caipirinha and enjoy the best pizza, so although we're just in from an overnighter, we head out around the local area to check out some of the best grafitti we have seen, and stop for lunch at a great Middle Eastern place which is in a super trendy part of town, far from the Lonely Planet's recommendations.

After a little mini siesta, we head out for a stroll through the high end shopping streets (and a little window shopping in case we find an outfit for the wedding in Tuscany next month) up to the Little Italy part of town, and a cute bar that is full of games to play (we choose dominoes) and then on for one of the best pizzas we have had in a long time! It was a long walk, so we treat ourselves to a cab back home.

Next day, we head out for a tour of the modern art galleries. Sao Paulo is famed as the cultural centre of Brazil, and we enjoy tramping around the modern art museum as well as the much bigger MASP (museo de arte de sao paulo) where local Brazilian artist Muniz has a great display of well known artwork creations made from unusual objects - so we have the Mona Lisa designed in peanut butter and jam, and frescoes made from thread, dust and other bits of random junk. Its all pretty cool, and we feel thoroughly cultured as we head off to the Japanese quarter (Sao Paulo has the largest number of Japanese residents outside of Japan) for some sushi. After lunch and a quick walk through the main centre - the cathedral and other such important buildings, we head back home before popping out for a couple of beers in the local trendy bars.

Its a brief stop in Sao Paulo, but we feel that we have done the city justice - we've seen some great art galleries, wandered the around the park, and some other key areas, and found some trendy places to hang out in, all without getting mugged, so we're quite rightly feeling proud of ourselves as we head off on the metro back to the bus station to get the bus onto Paraty.

First steps in Brazil - Porto Alegre & Florianopolis (14 - 20 May)

We're nervous heading into Brazil having heard horror stories about the levels of violent crime, pickpocketing, and general thievery, heightened by the fact that a Brazilian women at the bus station in Punta del Este went to great lengths to warn us how unsafe the bus station in Porto Alegre where we have to change to connect through to Florianopolis is. However, we needn't have worried, its fine, and the only real problem on the trip was at the border, where we needed o fill out another form to say that we don't have swine flu.

Florianopolis is a big island that is fast gaining a reputation as the top holiday destination in Brazil. This reputation is shared by Uruguayans and Argentinians, but its low season when we arrive so not so busy, and we find a room at a great hostel in the central island town of Lagoa, and head out for a couple of beers and a rather good pizza. Next morning, after a fab breakfast - the woman who runs the Casa Bresil bakes her own bread - we walk over to the beach at Joaquina, which takes about 30 mins along the side of the lake and then alongside some of the most enormous sand dunes ever. Its a surfers beach, but still the sun is shining, which is a nice treat after Uruguay, and we're pleased to have the sun cream out and our swimmers on once more. If this is how Brazil is going to be, then we'll be fine.

We've befriended a couple of Brits who have invited us along to a couchsurfing party that evening at a beach further along from Joaquina - although we're there early (typically British) its good crack meeting up with other Brazilians, and sharing a beer with them around the fire on the beach.

Next day we plan to go into Florianopolis city to check out the market, but are up too late, so settle with a boat trip around the lake and some prawns and a beer at a lakeside restaurant. Its al very pleasant around here, the pace of our trip has slowed down substantially, and we're really liking spending longer in one particular place. Only thing to ruin the idyll is a boat load of pissed up Brits turning up disturbing everyone on their little Saturday afternoon trip out, dousing themselves in blue face paints to match the colour of their boat. YAWN.

The family who run our hostel are lovely, even though they speak very little English, and our Portuguese is minimal - however, once we recognise that an 'r' is pronounced 'h' we realise that we are being told about a free rap music concert that is taking place nearby, and although we spend less than 10 mins watching (not really our scene, and a bit intimidating), we feel like we have experienced some youth culture!

Next day we head to the south of the island, and a fabled beach that rates highly on the best Brazil has to offer. Its a walk from the main road through the jungle that is supposed to take 90mins, but after about 45, the path becomes a bit steep and very wet and slippery. Not even knowing if we are definitely on the right track, we head back to the beach where the bus dropped us, and to a recommended restaurant and tuck into an enormous seafood buffet which leaves us only capable of heading home and going to sleep.

There's not much to do in the main town of Florianopolis, apart from sort out our overnight bus tickets to Sao Paulo, and a market that is half fish, half havaianas, so we stock up on flip flops to use as presents on our imminent return to Europe, that is starting to loom ever larger. After a last day on Praia do Mole, another great we have to take a taxi to the main bus station as the local busses are on strike! Its been a great start to Brazil - back on the beaches and some great food. Beer is also easy to come by, and even though its not the hottest time of the year - we're fast approaching Brazilian winter - its still warm enough for us to be on the beach at least for a few hours each day.

Uruguay (7-13 May)

Uruguay is just a short hop over the River Plate from Buenos Aires, and our first stop is the UNESCO registered Colonia Del Sacramento. The boat ride over is pretty uneventful apart from the fact we're feeling a little under the weather having to get up at the ungodly hour of 700am, after a final night in Buenos Aires on the red wine and steak. Fortunately Uruguay is home to a good few gauchos, so we're hoping that we're not leaving the prime steak behind for too long...

Colonia is a cute little place - all cobbled streets and coloured houses and a very touristy vibe. Its a nice place to hang out, so we decide to book in for a couple of days as we've found a cute little hostel that is really comfortable. And the sun is shining, which makes everything seem better. Its a tiny place with not a lot else to do but wander around watching a chap flying his kite by the port and hanging out. So thats what we do.

We're back on the bus to Montevideo on Saturday morning, fully refreshed from two nights good sleep in the Hostel El Viajero in Colonia. Its only a couple of hours along the motorway so we get there in time for lunch. Recommended in our guide book is the market, so we head for one of our favourite lunches of the whole trip. The market is buzzing full of Uruguyans out for lunch. On all sides are enormous BBQs full of sizzling meat, so we pull up a chair at the bar and order away. Its great theatre watching the butcher chopping up great sides of beef and throwing them onto the grill, and it tastes great too. Meanwhile there's music drumming and dancing to a Brazilian salsa beat going on all around. Its a great place that we really enjoy, and would recommend to everyone for an afternoon. Not content with 2 bottles of wine, once we find another bar with 3 drummers, a couple of guitars and a sax playing outside, we grab a seat and a bottle of Patricia, a pretty decent beer and hang out for the rest of the afternoon, enjoying the music, and starting to make a few Uruguayan friends. Eventually once the band is finished playing we head off to another bar with a group including Germans and Canadians and meet up with some local filmmakers, who had a film in Cannes last year, and then we dont remember very much until the next morning with a very bad head.

COuldnt really manage very much on Sunday apart from heading out for some lunch, which would have been great if we had been feeling great, and a stroll around town, which is all closed down as its Sunday. In the central square though we find a big exhibition of these bears, each one designed to represent a country of the world. They're about 6ft tall, and quite unique. Its the second time that we have seen them though. Last time back in Berlin a good few years ago.

Still a little under the weather on Monday, we find our way on the bus to Punta Del Este, getting closer and closer to Brazil. Its a proper seaside resort, that in the summer would be buzzing but in rainy Autumn, its dead. After stopping off for lunch and sheltering from the rain all we can do is head back home and wait for the rain to stop. It doesnt. Even the next day it rains pretty much endlessly, stopping just long enough to let us go out for a stroll around, with the obligatory dogs accompanying us. Not a huge amount to report back apart from the good news from other Ozzie and Yankie travellers is that they have to pay about US$150 for their Brazilian visas, as well as having to pay for Chilean and Bolivian, whereas us Brits are welcomed in with open arms. I like to think its because the Brits introduced football to the region, whereas the Yanks brought McDonalds, and the Aussies are also yet to do anything of note.

So all in all Uruguay is a pretty cool country. We kinda got a bit over it towards the end of our week in Punta del Este, which with a bit of sun would be great to hang out in. Otherwise, its not. Colonia and Montevideo are great places to hang out in for a couple of days. Anyhow, next stop Brazil on a rather expensive overnight bus.