In Peru, it still never ceases to amaze me where taxis will go, because in the time it took to walk most of the way up to Lake Wilcacocha (I didn’t manage to walk all the way up, read on), the same taxi must have passed us at least three or four times. Each time he would beep in the hopes I would do my lungs a favour and just hop in. The last time we saw him, he was driving a group of five (two in the front) up the pothole ridden dirt road.

It’s been over two weeks since I moved to Huaraz, and the altitude (let’s be honest I have lost a lot of my fitness these last two months) still affects me in small ways. I wake up in the morning a bit snotty, which goes away by mid-morning and doesn’t really trouble me too much. It’s most noticeable when I have joined Christina and Isobel (the Aussies) on our days out exploring Huaraz’s beautiful mountains.

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