Toby or not Toby?

A slow, uncomfortable and seemingly endless bus journey saw us stripping off the layers as we headed back down to sea level for the first time in weeks. Suddenly we realised that the huge conical volcano that had been in view for what seemed like hours already was the iconic Misti, towering over the sprawling suburbs of Arequipa. Once again the bus dropped us off in a drab part of town but the quick taxi drive to our Bed and Breakfast a few metres from the central plaza took us past beautiful town centre with magnificent churches, pituresque arches running down the streets and bright white buildings decorated to a state of grandeur. Add to this the excitement of Toby´s imminent arrival and Blakey was nearly peeing himself.

We checked into our hostal and after much debate as to whether we were going to scare Mr Woodfine with our eagerness for familiar company decided to screw what he thought and get a triple room- there was no escaping us. We were taken to a gorgeous wooden floor-boarded space with a huge window that framed the infamous volcano perfectly and three neat little beds. Now all we had to do was wait for his late arrival.

After taking a shower and wandering out for a bite to eat (followed by chocolate strawberry cake- mmmm) we were sat on our beds taking it easy. Each time the hostal´s doorbell rang Blakey´s ears pricked back like a dog awaiting its owner. In the exact same manner he mystically predicted the doorbell that was Toby. A few moments later a knock at the door was followed by a grinning cheeky face. Our first taste of home in 8 months!

After much hugging the oher little tastes of home were unfortunately stuck somewhere between London, Madrid and Lima- Woodfine´s bag had been lost en route with some tasty treats promised by Blakey´s Mum. However, we still received the visual treat of some video messages sent form Walnut House via Toby´s iPhone (a week with its music and apps has us both coveting one now) Smiles were particulalry broad at Patrick´s rendition of "How Much is That Doggy in the Window?" with the lesser known second verse included- the thought of seeing everyone in the flesh in exactly one month became more appealing than ever.

As excited as we all were Toby´s 18 hour flight and our pathetically early bedtime (which hasn´t been so embarrassing when it was just the two of us) left the rest of the catching up and gossip for the next day. We soon snuggled down to get some sleep- lovely.

Excited at the prospect of showing someone else our adventures Mr Blake had prepared a host of activities to keep us all entertained, his study of the Lonely Planet having turned him into a human Sat Nav as he took us on a tour of the city he following day. First stop was right opposite our hotel at the Casa Cultura- a university run museum housing artefacts from three child sacrifices recovered from the nearby volcanoes 15 years ago. After watching an excellent 20 minutes documentary detailing the Inca civilisation and the prestige associated with becoming a human sacrifice a guide took us through the many artefacts and their significance which were displayed in dimly lit cabinets. It was expertly managed- the truth of the age and wonder of each item was conveyed to bring a real sense of history being placed in front of our eyes. The tour finished with a viewing of one of the mummies- a 15 year old girl called Sarita. The snowy conditions had preserved her extremely well as the small figure sat cross legged in front of us- a small dent on her skull where a priest had hit her head after drugging her- the end of a long and tiring walk from Cuzco to the top of the mountian this far South. It was incredibly eerie- especially knowing it was right across from where we were sleeping- the idea of the life before this was so easy to comprehend. We all left feeling we had seen something incredibly significant.

After a delicious lunch at a cafe hand picked by Mr Blake again we headed to another place that ought to be revered and treated with respect, the convent of Santa Catalina. This huge walled nunnery housed women guarded from the outside world for four hundred years and was only recently opened to the general public. As such a holy place it ought to have been respected, but knowing that the first nuns that lived here had a reputation for hedonism and being accompanied by two of the least mature English blokes in Peru saw a fun visit. Toby joined the last supper, Blake got his bum out in a nun´s garden and every small space that could be climbed into was. A short stop for refreshments in a little plaza gave Toby his first, last and rather disappointing taste of coca leaves- not as strong as he would have liked it seemed.

After an action packed day we returned to our little room where I decided to stay for the evening (I intend to stop being sick soon- but the night before I hadn´t slept well when the chocoalte strawberry cake didn´t like my tummy) I left the boys to head out into the night to sample some of Peru´s best woodfired pizzas and managed to sleep through what I am told was a huge parade outside our window! The Easter celebrations here saw hordes of people hauling huge effigys of Jesus through the streets with candles lit and petals scattered under the feet of the 16 or so army men struggling to hold the statue aloft. I woke briefly when the giggling boys burst back through the door- they had just had their pictures taken with a guy who has stood on our street every night we have stayed here in a different coloured santa outfit wishing "Buenos Noches" to all who pass. They seemed thrilled- a pretty good night then!

The next day was up early again and the first taste of real activity for Toby as we headed up the hill out of town for a morning of white water rafting. The glorious sunny day saw us joined by 8 Spanish speaking tourists, one of whom joined the English for the strenuous paddle down the twisting nestled at the bottom of a beautiful canyon, all lorded over by the ever impressive Misti. A brief safety and instructive chat got us nervously excited at what we were about to embark on- the element of danger impressed upon us by the guide as he warned of the sharp rocks and the strong currents. He also told us that there were two areas that were classed higher in the grading system of rapids and that we would have to get out and carry the boat passed them on our novice course.

However, the moment we took to the water we did England proud! Our paddle technique was completely in-sync- much to our guide´s delight and genuine surprise it seemed (seeing us in wet suits before can´t have done much for his confidence- not the prettiest of sights!) The local girl added her all, but the Hampshire trio had this pegged! We hit out first set of rapids with suitable enthusiasm and wound up at the bottom with huge grins and a whooping celebration- oars in the air, led by our guide Tito. We were naturals. In fact, we did so well that Tito decided we could tackle one of the danger spots and put us all to work as we strenuously kept the raft steady, hit a swirling dip in the river and all ducked inside as the current took the dinghy straight towards a large rock. As we ricocheted off and regained control our descent of the rapid appeared expert- particularly when compared with the other two groups- one of which got stuck and then unable to fight the current, requiring Tito to drag them back on course and the other capsized- it wasn´t as easy as we made it look then!

We continued with our expertise down larger (though easier to navigate) waterfalls until the rapids we were not allowed to tackle when we walked along the bank, but before getting back into the raft Tito walked us up a large rock face and pointed to a deep spot across the river for us to jump into. Toby headed straight out- full of confidence (or no sense, depending on how you look at it) Blakey built himslef up a little more slowly, having seen the after effects of the idiots that jumped into the shallow waters in Laos and sported bandages for the rest of their trips. An utter dislike for heights and the nervousness of the other girl we were with saw me slink back down the rock face but Toby grabbed me and marched me back up. I was only allowed back in the raft if I jumped- which I did. The cold water I landed in saw me gasp and splutter for breath but I was glad to say I had done it.

After a full morning of rafting we came to the end of the trail. We had managed each challenge with no mishaps and were all planning a future trip that would involve trickier rapids. We headed back to town buzzing.

As the sun continued to beat down on us a holiday vibe defiantely kicked in. Toby´s endless taste for beer saw a quick trip to the supermarket for a crate of Corona, some limes and fresh fruit salad. We headed to the roof terrace of our hotel where sun loungers allowed us to luxuraite in the gorgeous weather, over looking the spires of the city´s many churches and cathedrals. We laid back and supped our nice cold beers and even spotted a condor circling overhead. When the sun went down we dragged ourselves out for dinner, but after an action packed morning and with all the excitement of the next day ahead we were soon tucked up again- listening to Father Christmas wish a "Buenos Noches" as Easter approached..

The next morning I woke up a little excited- it was my birthday! After a couple of well wishes from the half asleep boys when the sun first blared through our window we were bought to consciousness at 7.30am with a call from the airport- Toby´s bags had finally arrived! He rushed off to grab them as Blake and I enjoyed a mini lie in and then returned with a great pile of cards and a few little presents from home. Surrounded by all my notes and with a pink balloon in hand I felt as spoilt as I would have been in England- although I will be spoilt again on my return as a parcel sent by Danni "To Laura, via Toby Tiptoes" was held by some jobsworth at a Portsmouth Post Office- something for me to look forward to later.

The boys then disappeared leaving me to reread all my lovely meaages and returned with a huge delicious breakfast that was topped opff by the jar of marmite sent by Sara to us both- a real treat with just a month to go- no rationing!

The previous afternoon had been so idyllic that the first part of our day was spent on the roof allowing me to get stuck right in to Profdessor Layton´s mystery that Blakey had bought for me and we indulged in the fresh fruit that the boys had got for breakfast, along with rocky road and cornflake cakes from Blighty. Food was to become a significant part of the day as we then headed out for a delicious birthday meal at a recommended creperie (pointed out to us by the most cheerful traffic conductor in all of Peru- an absolute legend who is so smiley he has won tourism awards!) We ate an amazing meal accompanied by champagne and I topped it off with a raspberry laden pudding- it was turning out to be a great birthday!

But then a small disaster struck. We had intended to head out to one of Arequipa´s many bars or clubs for the evening but I was told that it was all closed for Good Friday. Earlier in the day Toby had been told he couldn´t buy any beer in the supermarket, but we assumed that was because he was trying before breakfast (I know). Here we were with the cheeky feeling of champagne lining our tummies, ready to make the most of this excuse to indulge and no one else in Peru was drinking. We managed to get a sneaky bottle of champagne and another of vodka under the counter and headed back to party at the hotel instead.

By early evening we were already fairly merry- we can count on one hand the number of times we have raised a glass out here, and once again the boys vanished on a mission. A few minutes later Blakey pulled me out of our room, camera in hand, for the most surreal "Happy Birthday" ever. As Toby held a large cake covered in candles a room full of strangers sang the familiar song, all looking to Toby when the tricky part that involved my name occured. Blakey and Toby sang "dear LAURA" extra loud to cover this slight embarrassment, which only made it seem more special!

After fits of giggles back in the rrom as we all recalled the "heartfelt" atmosphere, Toby strapped the camcorder to my head making me look like Terminator in a turban, placed a large knife in my hands and the sliced cake in the other- I went to each of my new friends in the hostal, menacingly holding the knife and asking in a way reminscient of Julie Walters in Dinner Ladies "Cake?!" Only the receptionists took us up on the offer, but after putting it in the kitchen for 30 minutes we returned to find it all gone- not one of us had taken a slice!

The evening continued just the three of us in our room chatting about anything and everything as we supped our bubbles and challenged each other to tests of strength of flexibility. It ended slighty abruptly when my sickness bug kicked in again (not an excuse- I really have been poorly- I didn´t even manage a glass of vodka) but it was no longer my birthday in Blighty by then and we really had enjoyed a great day.

One last day in Arequipa before heading to the Colca Canyon for some hard core trekking. We had always intended to take it easy this day which entailed moving as far as our favourite spot on the roof and exposing our pasty bodies to the fabulous sun. This was made all the more exciting by a couple of phone calls from Danni- the first time I have spoken to her since I got engaged and then she burst straight into tears and couldn´t manage more than 4 minutes chat! Today I was treated to two conversations with her- a pre and post bottle of wine duo, again making the prospect of seeing everyone again soon all the more appealing. Other than that it was extra early to bed as we had a 3am pick up the following day. So far Arequipa had been a lot of fun!