Today I am travelling to Peru where I hope to find the Lost City of the Incas, two weeks of complete and utter escape from the cut and thrust of the foot health world, snow capped mountains, deep ravines, deep fried guinea pigs, pipe smoking ladies wearing stripy jumpers and bowler hats, Paddington Bear, marmalade sandwiches, Teófilo Cubillas, Michael Bentine, cocaine trees, the bottle to walk along a metre wide ridge with sheer drops on either side, a CD of the Leeds United anthem Marching On Together played on panpipes, the ability to have complete disregard for even the lowest standard of personal hygiene as there is only enough water along the High Inca Trail to boil an alpaca’s egg, a condor moment, myself pissed on Pisco, a house and a job.
My next trip is to Scotland. I’d better not mention Teófilo Cubillas there . . . for obvious reasons!