LADIES AND GENTLEMEN the time is upon us. This is our final blog entry on South America, a sad, yet necessary event. Without meaning to be cliched or cheesy, it has quite literally been the most fantastic four months in our past 19 years. Octavia, I will be writing a small ode to you at the end of this blog, however I must continue with the stories to tell on our past week in the small coastal town of Mancora. We headed on up to the very north of Peru, right on the Ecuadorian border, munching on dog food and feeling ever so melancholy yet extremely excited at the idea of being so near the equator and yes, sunshine. The sweat was on as we arrived in 40 degrees heat and desperate for some ocean lovin. We stayed in the prestigious and notorious Loki hostel. We started on bad terms. Lets just say Octavia seriously pissed off the local workmen. They were perfectly smoothing their freshly laid cement on what was to be Loki's new driveway, Octavia, without noticing, sticks her massive foot in the gooey pile and yes, there is a mark of her slab of ham permanently imprinted on Peruvian soil. It is true that you leave a part of you wherever you go, in Octavia's case, it was not so pleasantly received.
Dragging my tarmaced toenails sadly through the street, we hit the beaches, to be met with gorgeous sand, rolling sea and a cloudless sky. Blissful. These wonders would have been enjoyed more fruitfully throughout our days in Mancora had we not thought it wise to play excessive amounts of beer pong, obtain shin splints from inconveniently placed barriers and catch lifts on the back of a police motorbike when we somehow ended up on the opposite banks of the river. Anyhow. We had a lovely time.
Looking back over the past four months, I think it is justified to say that we've been through a hell of a lot, and yes, believe it or not, we survived. We have quad biked, dune buggied, mountain biked, sand boarded, surfed, trekked, ziplined, tuk-tukked, hitch-hiked (sorry granny), motorbiked and rafted through deathly rapids, andean mountain faces, amazonian rivers, Patagonian glaciers, desert and rainforest to survival. We have scrambled our way up 3000 steps to Macchu Picchu, descended into the deepest Silver mine, tooth picked our way up an active Chilean volcano and cycled down the World's Most Dangerous Roads...to name but a few. Rosie's finer achievements have included getting jammed on a 800m high zipline, imprinting "I love Mum" written in biro on her bum cheek (sowee) on both bedding and loo seats of a hostel and returning with a plentiful swear-word-filled vocabulary list in Hebrew. I, on the other hand, have lost 4 pairs of shoes, thrown a flip flop at a taxi driver's head and gone 8 consecutive days without pooing. No easy feat. We have survived being bitten by savage hounds, falling off the back of vehicles (and a few too many bars) and enduring each other's company for 4 months, that's 17 weeks, 121 days and 2928 hours. Cor.
Yes it has been quite literally the time of our short lives. We have met some incredible people from all over the world- and some not so incredible people. I might just say the latter were 99% Brits. GO ENGLAND. In all seriousness though, I don't think either of us will forget any of the past four months, and yes we are sitting at home right now with our cups of Earl Grey about to say goodbye to one another. Sob. Or not. Octavia it has been a pleasure, I will certainly miss all the ridiculous songs we have created ("Cretins" is my fav), our inane food scoffing sessions and generally your fantastic company. IT HAS BEEN SO MUCH FUN!! I have never laughed so much ever and all I can say is til next time Captain Cobb, WATCH OUT COLUMBIA. I don't really know how we've survived- next stop kidnapping. Kidding.
R Whitcombe, it is tricky to know where to begin. I thank you for enduring my veruca-encrusted feet, my savagely embarrassing dance moves in the public eye and general inability to cross a road safely. I will overlook your more irritating habits, such as making paper cranes the WHOLE time (and I mean the WHOLE time), updating me on excretion habits after every venture to the bathroom and recounting the tale of me being chatted up by a girl in Argentina to EVERYONE we met. It is no wonder I am still single. I equally apologise for waking you up every morning in an excruciating Scottish accent, insisting we have a "sweet treat" after every meal, and secretly wishing the Israeli kid you snogged was mine. I return knowing that I have laughed more than I have done in my whole life, with a bucket load of sensational memories, and with an extra roll of fat on my knee caps. Team, we thank you so so much for not only reading our blog throughout, but also so many of you for all your support and well wishes (cringe). Parents, I'm sorry for drastically shortening your life span, but you've been brill also.
Ta-ra, signing out for a wee while,
Ocs and Rosie.
