Hi Kids,

well, I'm sitting here in my brother's room (soon to be mine! Hahaaa!) trying to write and record some songs. It's starting to get a bit tricky. After the initial elation of managing to finally get some of my songs down on disc, I am now at that tricky stage of actually having to FINISH some of my songs so that I can FINISH recording them. I have tons of half songs! I have actually managed a few... actually, make that two.... finished songs. I would let you have a listen, but I want to get a few on disc and post them to myself for copyright purposes before i go putting them up on the web. Because these songs are HOT baby!!! Oh yeah! I've already made the mistake of giving out the chords and lyrics of my "blood is thicker than oil" song to countless people during my trip.... I'm still half expecting to see that pop up on Top of the Pops any day now.... Actualy, i wouldn't really mind too much, cos i'm sure i could sue them for loads.... :) Anyway, I decided to take a break from writing songs to write a bit of blog. So here goes:

.........ummmmm.

shit. My writer's block is starting to invade all aspects of my life!!! I tried to sign a credit card slip in a shop the other day but couldn't think what to write!!! the shop assistant had to suggest I write my signiture before I actually started writing!! England is slowly but surely draining my creative juices through a small and cleverly concealed valve in the sole of my right foot. Mmmmm. Perhaps if I put lead soles on my trainers..... nah, too heavy. Got to be practical here.... Maybe I need to go and find some inspiration. I've been reading the papers in the hope that that might inspire me, but all it's done so far is depress me. I'm starting to think tony blair might actually be the devil. If you've ever seen that movie with jack nicholson, "The Witches of Eastwick", you'll know what i mean. Mmmm, but if Tony's the devil, what would that make George Dubbya?? Surely not God? Oh my dear George! Say it isn't so!! Apparantly some people really do think he is appointed by the lord. I read it in the paper once. blah blah blah. You can tell I haven't done much lately can't you?

The rest of the world is getting further away with every day that passes. I'm starting to understand why most "normal" people seem to view the idea of living in other countries as an idle dream only possible for the rich and famous. That's how it feels here. You start to think "well, yes it's cold, yes it's boring, yes I'd rather be somewhere else, but that's just not possible is it? Just got to keep a stiff upper lip and try to remain as numb as possible. Don't worry, just keep watching tv and it'll all be over before you know it..." Well, excuuuuse me, but that sucks. I'm going to learn kung fu and then be like that guy from the series "kung fu" I used to watch as a kid. Travelling from town to town, helping the poor and defenceless with my combination of martial arts and ancient chinese wisdom. Right! I'm going to start right away!!! Tomorrow I shall head off into the roughest areas of madley village.... ummm.... maybe I'll hang around by the swings in the park.... and wait for some bullys to pick on a defenseless child before I run in and kung fu them all into a bloody pulp. Then i shall teach them all how to meditate before slinging my belongings over my shoulder and heading onto the next spot where my help is needed... maybe outside the village shop......

ok. it is time.

God I hate computers!!!! Whyyyyyy???!!!! Actually, more to the point, I hate Microsoft. I blame them for everything wrong with the world today. Bus didn't come on time? Fucking Microsoft. Tea went cold before you drunk it? Fucking Microsoft. Couldn't get it up? Fucking Microsoft!!!

I dread to think of the chaos they will cause once we all become bionic. Once they figure out how to make a brain/computer interface, and everyone has extra hardware wired into their bodies (don't scoff, it's not that far off... think of what they can do with pacemakers...), who do you think will provide the operating system? You betcha. Fucking Microsoft. I can just see it now. We're all sat round having a drink, I'm in the middle of a sentence, and all of a sudden my eyes go blue and I just keep repeating "Fatal Exeption has occured at OE3X778. PLEASE REBOOT".

And that's without even considering the viruses that bitter young hackers will be sending out over the mind-net. Once again, I'm mid-sentence, when all of a sudden i recieve a message in my in-box. Thinking it's from my mum, I open it, and my entire brain is erased! Realising what is happening, my friends, instead of trying to help me, all struggle frantically to disengage their own hardware, as they know that they are all listed in my adress book.......

Right, I have to go now to try and reinstall fucking Internet fucking explorer, beacuse it's shit. byeee :)

Morning.

I'm still here! Don't go! Don't leave me here all alone!!! I'm sorry! I know I've been lame, but I can change!! Just give me one more chance, I'm begging you!!! Ok, apology over. The thing is you see, that living in England really isn't very interesting. At least not for me anyway, mainly due to the fact that I'm english. I think maybe if I came from Mongolia I'd have hundreds of witty observations to make about how strange and exotic this country is, but unfortunately I don't, so everything is just plain old england to me. The brainless slappers in the "Crystal Rooms" nightclub that I visited last night might well be fascinating examples of british inbreeding to an American sociology student, but to me they were just plain old slappers. The icy breeze that numbed my face and hands as I walked back to the car this morning may well have a certain amount of novelty factor for a singaporean, but to me it's just plain old fucking cold. So what can i tell you? Well I guess I could tell you my plans.... You'll be pleased to know that I don't plan on staying here too long. It's just not my cup of tea quite frankly. So I'm gonna leave to somewhere warmer asap, but before I do, I need to make a demo CD. And slowly but surely it is coming together...

Yesterday I went in to a shop to help my brother choose a backpack, and I bumped into an old friend from my school days, Lee Butler. I told him i was trying to make a demo, and it turns out Lee is working at Hereford Blind College running their recording studio! Then, just as i thought things couldn't get any better, the guy working behind the counter shouts out "Oi! Do you need a bass player?". Bargain! So now I have a studio and a bassist! Amazing how these things come together when you go into the camping shop. Incidentally they didn't sell backpacks....

Hang on, I need to sneeze..... ahhh....... ahhhhhhhhh..... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh......

fuck it.

There's nothing worse than an ahhh with no choo. That's gonna bug me all day now. It's unfinished business is what it is. Like when you go for a dump and forget to wipe your arse. Not that I do that mind you. But I'm sure some people do. Old people spring to mind. Actually, I doubt they "spring", probably more like "hobble to mind complaing about their joints and the cost of a pint of milk". Ahh, I'm just kidding, old people are alright. As long as they don't come out too much.

So yeah, where was I? Oh yes, my plans. My plans are as follows:

1: Run away to India with my guitar and sit on a beach/mountain writing songs and drinking chai.

2: Go to Argentina and play covers of english songs in a bar in Buenas Aires.

3: Go to australia and live in melbourne trying to get work playing in bars.

4: Go to California and be a busker.

5: Move to an english city, get a proper job, get a mortgage, get a chronic case of depression complemented by a healthy prozac addiction.

So, there's the options. What do you think? Really, I want your opinion. Just think, this is your chance to run my life! If I get enough responses I might make this a regular part of my journal and start handing over all important decisions to a public vote.... :)

Ok, I think I've rambled sufficiently. hasta luego baby.

Hi there my friends,

had you given up on me? I nearly had.... but no!! I'm still here! You wont belieeeeve what happened to me today!!!! ....... Nothing!! Amazing huh?! So, rather than bitch at you about my agonising decision of what to do with my life, I thought it would be better to give you an old story I just discovered on my pc. Don't worry, it's a freshie! It's from my trip to cambodia a couple of years back. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin....

I just got back from cambodia yesterday. Its a pretty crazy place. The history of the country is unbelievable. Went to visit the killing fields and the S21 Concentration camp. very disturbing. On a lighter note, weed costs about 5 quid an ounce! I didn't make it to the shooting range, but i met a guy who'd just been, and he confirmed that yes, you can play with rocket launchers, grenades, AK47's, Uzis, and even buy a live cow to blow up for $200... I cant help wondering if they give you an umbrella to protect you from all the falling cow... Angkor wat is pretty cool, although i prefered the other temples of Angkor Thom and the Bayon. Anyway, the best story is of my journey back, which was anything but smooth...

We left Sihanoukville in the south of cambodia at 8am in a small minibus and headed off towards the thai border. 20 mins later the bus pulled into an auto repair shop in a small village, and the drivers proceeded to remove various parts of the engine and hit them with a hammer and a scewdriver while all the men squatted around and watched, offering the occasional piece of technical wisdom. We asked what was going on and how long this was going to take, but the driver just shrugged us off before going back to watching the "mechanic" attacking the engine parts with a drill.

2 hours later we finally got back in the van and started driving. Whatever problem the van had had before had been clearly aggravated by the hammering and drilling, and the van sounded like it wouldn't last more than and hour.

We countinued driving into the middle of nowhere and gradually the road got worse. Pretty soon it was nothing but a mud track winding through the hills. Then we came to our first river crossing. Four fishing boats had been tied together and covered in planks to make a makeshift car-ferry, and after another long wait we boarded along with a few other cars. The other cars apperared to be part of some "wealthy" (i.e. owned more than a pair of shoes and a t-shirt) family with AK wielding security guards.

Upon reaching the other side, we jumped ashore and waitied for our van. All the other cars drove off up the dusty road, but our van remained unmoved. We had a flat battery! A few men started to gather round the van and attempted to "squat start" it. This involves getting a group of men to squat around the van and argue about the problem until it solves itself, and is not dissimilar to the method used in the auto-repair shop, although it involves less hammering and drilling.

After 30 mins of failed squat start attempts, a rather sizable queue of cars had built up trying to get back accross the river in the opposite direction. Horns were being liberally applied to the situation in an attempt to get it moving, and eventually our group of squatting men decided to push the van out of the way.

Eventually the squat starting was actually sucessful and we were back on our way.

We managed two more boat ferry crossings without too much fuss, although some of the roads we experienced in the mountains were unbeleivable. I'm amazed we made it over them. Then came the next major upset...

We were 30 mins from the border town of Ko Kong, and we had 1 hour until the border closed. No problem. Or so we thought. Suddenly the van turned off the main road and drove straight into a muddy puddle about 2 feet deep. The wheels spun, water sprayed, but the van wasn't going anywhere. The rear wheels weren't even touching the ground. we were fucked. The driver, who was about 19 and not exactly the brightest of men, continued to rev the engine and spin the wheels in the hope that it might suddenly work. I dont know, perhaps he thought if he spun the wheels enough he'd actually empty the puddle and we could drive away. Anyhow, we all got out and the squatting technique was employed once more. The local village, obviously very amused by the whole affair, came and joined the squatting. You'd think with this much squatting power it would be easy to move the van, but for some reason it just wasn't working. I tried suggesting we covert all the squatting into pushing power, but my suggestion was greeted with laughs and cries of "It cant be done!".

Then our drivers came up with the wonderfully bad idea of trying to jack the van up by placing a jack, underwater, in the mud. I tried to explain why this wouldn't work, but they continued anyway. Eventually it became apparant that the reason the villagers weren't helping us push the van was that we weren't paying them, and the reason we weren't paying them was because the drivers were trying to save money. Once I found this out we pretty much ordered the drivers to pay the villagers and they relented!

With a lot of people lifting and pushing, we eventually got the van back on the road.... for about 2 minutes.... and then came to the next ferry crossing....

The ferry was undergoing repairs, and a guy was welding away at it. Accepting that we had missed the border, I bought a beer and sat down, after all this was cambodia. Who was I to say things should run faster or smoother? Was I about to make a difference? No. So I just sat and waited.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, we missed the border, stayed overnight in a grotty bordertown, travelled to bangkok the following day, and missed our flight home! Hooray!

The End.

-----

I hope you enjoyed that. Ahhhh, memories.......

Hi Guys,

I've finally managed to add the messaging service again, so please feel free to say hi and drop some comments...

laters...

good morning!

As each day goes by here I can feel a metamorphosis taking place. Every time I'm asked what my "plans" are, I find it harder and harder to tell people that I'm going to make money playing the guitar, either here or in some other far flung destination. Words like "realistically", "practical" and "feasibly", have started creeping into my mind, planted there by the concern and disbelief of well meaning friends. I knew this would happen. Things that in other countries seem perfectly possible, in England seem outright ridiculous. It's partly to do with the cost of living. To live on the money you make as a musician in London would be impossible! Even just to make to the fare into the city and back would be hard, wheras in Australia the cost of living is reasonable, so it wouldn't be such a crazy idea.

But it's more than that. It feels to me it's more about this whole nonsensical idea that everybody needs to have a "proper job". Quite frankly, I'm not convinced. All these "proper jobs", at least in my circle of friends, seem to involve staring at computer screens for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and then getting absolutely fucked for the whole weekend before doing the same thing all over again. Ok, so maybe it'd give me enough money to buy some cool toys. Hey, maybe i could even save enough to put a deposit down on a flat and then be REALLY trapped! Oh joy! No, the money bit is not really buying me. But on the other hand, just existing in this overpriced little island of greyness costs a fucking fortune, so you gotta earn a fair amount otherwise your basically confined to your home the entire time. The weather doesn't help in that respect. If it was sunny at least you can go out and enjoy free things, but when it's cold and wet, everything you wanna go and enjoy costs cash, lots of it.

Anyway, enough negativity. Somehow I have to figure out how to remain positive and idealistic in the face of such brutal realism and common sense. My approach so far has been not to leave the protective shelter of my friends houses. After spending the weekend at ben's house, and failing miserably to leave excpet for our quick jaunt to the pub with the elvis impersonator, on sunday evening I decided to go and see ewan, one of my old housemates.

Ewan gave me dirctions, and after a burger and chips down the local chippy, I set of for the tube station. Everything was going ok until I reached Kings Cross. After walking for 15 mins with my big pack to Kings Cross Thames Link, I was confronted with a barrier and a sign explaining that all services were closed on this route. I asked the woman behind the ticket booth what was the problem, automatically speaking in my clearest pidgeon english. She asked where I was going and where I'd come from, and when i told her, she said "Nahhh mate, you're goin the wrong way, you wanna go back the way you come and then take the tube to kentish town and get a train from there..."

After thanking her in what I think was an english accent, i headed back underground to head for Cuntish Town. Another hour later, I was in St Albans, and Ewan came to pick me up and bring me to the safety of his parents (currently away) suburban house, which is where, except for a quick trip to an indian restaurant last night, I have stayed.

Ewan has been updating me on the most important developments in the UK over the last 3 years, namely reality tv. Yes, I have had the great fortune to arrive home right at the end of "I'm a celebrity get me out of here", which is basically like survivor but with b grade celebs that I've never heard of. It's shit. But I seem to be alone in this sentiment. On the tube everyone seemed to be reading a tabloid newspaper which was filled entirely with gossip about celebs from the show. But then hey, I suppose there's not that much going on in the rest of the world these days is there... well, excpet for Iraq I supose, but I mean like hey, that is sooo last year!!!

I watched George Bush do his tv interview the other night. It was painful. Fair play to the interviewer though, as he asked some fairly difficult questions an demanded responses, which george of course failed miseably to deliver. He just kept repeating the same lines over and over and basically making himself look like a complete liar. The best moments where when he had repeated the same pre-written line about 3 times and obviously figured it was time to ad lib a little. Every time he did this he would accidentally blurt out something along the lines of "yes I did lie to the american public about wmd, but I honestly did think he was a really bad man and that I should take him out". Now if you'd just said that in the first place George....

Right, it's 4pm, which is about the time I get up these days. My reverse jet lag has just merged into a very lazy sleeping pattern... so, time to get up and search Ewans kitchen for some food.... :)

Well, from what I've seen of England through my protective haze of drunkenness, it's grey. It's as if someone has left it in a shop window in the sun (hah! the irony!) and all the colour has been drained out of it. Admittedly my first taste of the UK after my flight was in fact heathrow airport, terminal 4. Terminal 4 has an illness, and yes, it is terminal. It's possibly the drabbest, most depressing building I've ever seen. Everything is grey, or a muddy yellow, and covered in 40 years of grime. There are wires protruding from the ceiling, which is mostly strangely not there, and there is rubbish lying around on the floor. And the people! Everyone is wearing drab colours, possibly to compliment their miserable expressions....

I call my mate Ben from uni and luckily he's just on his way home from work. On the tube into the city, everyone sits and stares vacantly into space with a dissatisfied look on their faces. Except the guy sat next to me. He's busy examining a barbecue flavoured Dorito which he's pulled from the packet. He stares at it for a few seconds, as if looking for the best place to start, and then he opens his mouth wide.... and bites off half. He chews slowly, looking up, and then pops in the other half....... Who are these people!!!!! Why is everything everyone does sooooo straannnnnge! And why, please god why, is everything so greeeeyyyyy!!!!

I make it to bens. A few beers and a few joints later and the colour is starting to return. Of course! how could i forget! England is actually black and white, and then recreational drugs fill in the colour! It all starts coming back to me, and eventually we make it out to the pub, which is full of strange drunken ugly people. Well there not all ugly. In fact some of aren't half bad...... then we have "aftershocks". Then it all goes blank. Forgot to have have dinner. big mistake.

Wake up today in afternoon. Jet lag kind of works pretty well this way round! (As long as you don't have a job...) late nights and long lie ins..... :) Have spent the whole day inside, despite a fairly long spell on sunshine. Hey, i can enjoy it from inside ok, there's big windows! But now have to find energy to get active!! gotta call people, arrange things..... mmmm, in a bit.....

Nooooooo!

its the final blog of my trip...... this trip anyway! am going to get flight in about.... mmmm... like 5 mins ago actually, so don´t have time to write about all the funny things that have happened to me in the last day (there´s been a fair few!). Just wanted to make one last blog from a warm country...... ahhhhhhh.

ok. This is billy salisbury, on the other side of the world, saying hasta luego.

p.s. the blog will continue in the uk of course, which I´ve been away from for so long it might seem like a foriegn country! maybe.

Getting pissed in Machu Pichu.....

What is it about me and phone calls?? I have been trying for the last 3 days to re-confirm my flight home from Lima, and each time have either been fobbed off with a different number, put on hold indefinitely, or just hung up on completely! And everywhere I read about Lima airport it says to make absolutely sure you reconfirm your flight at least 72 hours in advance! I´m trying god damnit!!! So now I´m in Lima, i figured it can´t be so hard. I finally manage to get through to a woman who says she can reconfirm my flight, I tell her my name, and she tells me she doesn´t have any reservation under that name! Eventually she finds out that my ticket is booked through British Airways, and sounding extremely pissed off that I don´t understand what she says immediately due to my limited spanish, she tells me just to arrive at 6pm tomorrow at the airport. "So is it re-confirmed?" I ask. She gives the spanish equivalent of "Ummm, yeah, whatever" and then hangs up. I can´t believe I have spent 3 days trying to get hold of this woman!

Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, machu pichu....

So yeah, we arrived in machu pichu, and I realised that I had forgotten many essential hiking items, such as torch (we were trekking up for sunrise), insect repellant (bastard sandflies!), spare t-shirt (bought new one, lost old one), and errr..condoms (ahem...). So anyway, despite being absolutely knackered, having barely slept on the bus the night before, me and louise managed to go out and buy torches and batteries and eat pizza while sarah crashed out at the hostal. Soon after, having asked the hostal owner to wake us up at 4am, we also crashed out.

At 4am the hostal owner banged on our door. At about 5:30am we started waking up. 20 mins later we were outside, looking disgustedly at our now useless torches in the early morning light. As we trekked down through the town, a policeman shouted at us, "Hey, hurry up, you´ll miss the bus". Huh? what bus? The bus isn´t supposed to leave until... oh yeah, 6. Mmmm. Our cunning plan of hiking up to Machu Pichu before sunrise to see it before it was swarming with tourists was starting to seem like a bit of a mission impossible. It was supposed to be a 2 hour hike, pretty much straight up, climbing 700 metres, and we now had to do it in 20 mins. By the time we reached the bottom of the hill, the first bus went roaring past. By the time we reached the top, poring with sweat and gasping for air, there was already a fair sized contigent of stoop-backed, fanny-packed, cracker-jacked American pensioners being herded into their groups by peruvian tour guides. Damn. Once we got into the site however, we were pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually still pretty empty, and as we arrived, the clouds parted and gave us a picture perfect view of machu pichu. At first I wasn´t so sure that it really deserved all the praise it gets. Then one of the wardens explained to us that it used to be essentially a religious community where rich families would send their virgin daughters, who made up 80% of the population. I was convinced.

After a quick breakfast louise suggested we climb to the top of an obscenely tall looking needle-like rock besdie machu pichu for a better view. Sarah sensibly decided to give it a miss, but I, ignoring my knees´ feeble cries of protest, agreed to go.

A few hours later I was starting to regret walking anywhere at all. My knees were fucked. I could barely walk, but somehow made it back to the bus and joined all the elderly americans getting a ride down the hill. Back in Aqua Calientes, Sarah and I found our way into a bar, and ordered a couple of beers. An hour or so later, after loise had joined us and more beer had been drunk, we found ourselves feeling rather pissed. Then Louise bought a carton of 25% peach rum something or other... after that it all goes a bit blank... I remember not eating... I think that may have been the problem.... apparantly we went out to another bar and drank more... I remember trying to play the guitar and sing to Sarah at what felt like the early hours of the morning but was probably more like 7pm.... I remember some more things which I won´t write here.. and then I remember waking up at 4am to catch the train feeling like a piece of mould growing on a piece of dogshit stuck to the shoe of a tramp who hasn´t washed in 30 years. Yep, it´s that same hangover I was suffering from when writing my last blog entry. Hoooahhhh, that was a bitch!

So anyway, I had to say goodbye to my new bosom buddies and catch my flight this morning to Lima. So here I am. Only 24 hours left as a world traveller, and I´m spending it in an internet cafe! By the way, I sent out a bunch of e-mails and got a bunch of replies, and I suddenly remembered that there is something I love about England after all..... MY FRIENDS!!!!!!! Really looking forward to seeing all my friends that I haven´t seen for bloody ages!

Watch Out England!!!! Here I Come!!!!!!

God I feel rough.

well well, it´s been an eventful week. I´ve been travelling in high speed mode for the last few weeks, and now it´s finally all over. I fly to lima tomorrow morning and then fly to london the following day, arriving on friday. So this is the end of an era. I´ll still be writing my blog but I can´t see it being as interesting... at least I´ll have more to moan about!! Anyway, there´s still a day in lima which I´ve heard is pretty crazy....

So what have i been up to? I´ll tell you....

I caught a bus from La Paz to Copacabana, a small touristy town on lake titikaka. On the bus with me was a very large family of what i assume were rich bolivians. It´s funny, but looking at them emphasised the gap between rich and poor here much more than comparing myself to the locals. I think maybe it´s because everything they wore seemed to say "Look at me, I have all thengs that you want". At first I was quite disgusted by them, and then I thought about it and realised that everything I own may not look expensive, but it probably cost more than all the tacky goods they were touting combined. The mother had a big white puffer jacket and a fancy hairdo, the kids all had immaculately clean clothes, digital watches, mobile phones, trendy hair cuts etc... but then my watch, which looks like it´s seen better days, actually cost S$250, and my fleece cost 35 quid etc etc... It was when the poor kids got on the bus seeling ice creams that the contrast became most apparant. To see to groups of children, the same age, and yet so infinitely different, really hit home how clearly unfair a world this is....

Anyway, the bus journey was pretty uneventful except for having nice chat with a peruvian lady who was sat next to me. She told me how to see muchu pichu on the cheap, so I wrote down the details for later....

When we arrived in Copacobana, I dumped my big backpack and headed straight for the Isla Del Sol, which I´d heard was really great. A few hours later I was chilling on a balcony looking out over the sea with my new found friend George the australian. We went for a walk around the island before the sun set. The people who live on the island live a very simple life, eeking out a living from farming and tourism. The kids are all adorable, and they know it, asking you to take their pictures and then commanding "Pay me!".

The next morning I walked 8 km´s up to the north of the island to see some inca ruins. It was just a load of old rocks! I couldn´t believe it! Then i got the boat back to copacobana and found a hotel. Inside my room it was like a meat freezer. I was so cold that i couldn´t do anything, so i decided to take a hot shower. big mistake. As I stood in the bathroom naked, my hand turning blue as I checked and rechecked the temperature of the ice cold water, i noticed that the top of the electric shower was missing and it was just a mass of tangled wires. Protruding from there wires was a switch. Now I don´t normally consider myself a stupid person, but I have to admit, sticking my wet hand in amongst those wires whilst standing naked on a wet bathroom floor wasn´t the brightest thing I´ve ever done. As the 240 Volts surged through my body and sent me reeling back out of the room, I decided enough was enough, and, shivering like a wet dog, i pulled my clothes on and headed out to the reception. The woman at reception called the handyman over and he came back to my room to try and get the shower working. 30 mins later he had only managed to get it luke warm, and I said quite frankly it´s not good enough, and demanded a different shower to use. So, eventually i managed to have a shower next door, which was alternately scalding and freezing, and after getting out and drying myself, I headed back to my room flicking off the light as I left. Or at least I tried to. The moment my finger touched the light switch another 240 Volts of electricity sent all my muscles into spasm, drastically reducing my already depleted number of braincells in the process. This second shock was much more powerful than the first, and left me stunned for a good few minutes before i could walk out of the room. I think these shocks may have seriously damaged my... you know... that thing in my head with all the wiggly tubes and stuff.

After my shower I was so cold that I headed out to find a restaurant to warm uip in, but somehow ended up in a restaurant with no heating and an open door, eating pizza with my wooly hat and gloves on! Eventually I climbed in to bed and finally warmed up my numb body....

The next day I got a bus to Cuzco, stopping at Puno on the way to visit the floating islands on lake titikaka. On this trip I met 2 sexy swedish girls who turned out to be on my bus. In Cusco, I set about trying to organise the cheap machu pichu plan given to me by the peruvian woman on the bus. Sarah and Louise, the swedes, decided to join me. Everyone we spoke to told us that we´d be very lucky to get tickets on the cheap train, as this is the latin american holidays, and 100´s of argentinians are in town, all taking the cheap train. We were told that we´d have to get there an hour before the ticket office opened at 2pm, to buy tickets for the 7:30pm train. So, believing all, we panicked, and ruhed back to hostel, threw a few things in a bag, and jumped in a taxi to get to Ollantaytambo where the train left from. An hour later we arived, only to find a completely deserted train station. No queues of argentinians. No anything really. Just us. We waited 1.5 hours, during which time a few more people arrived and pushed in front of us anyway.....

So we got out tickets in the end, and arrived in Aquas Calientes, the closest town to machu pichu, at about 9:30pm....

to be continued.......