Having just moved into a new house, we didn’t have a very big budget to spend on this holiday so we found ourselves a couple of cheap flights to Barcelona, a low cost hotel near the city centre and bought the first guide book we could find. The weather when we touched down could probably best be described as abysmal but this didn’t dampen our spirits.

After finding our way to our hotel and dumping our bags, our first port of call was the nearest metro station (the metro is Barcelona’s equivalent of the London underground and is a great way to get around). We bought a three day unlimited pass for roughly €14 (£9.60) and hopped on a distinctly punctual and un-crowded train bound for La Sagrada Familia. If I were to recommend just one sight to see in Barcelona, La Sagrada Familia would be it. Gaudi devoted 40 years of his life to the design and construction of this extremely elaborate cathedral and building is still ongoing today. From the ground the building is extremely impressive and its spires each reach to a height of 300 feet with plans to extend this even further.

We paid €8 each to gain access to the cathedral and museums. Although an elevator is available inside the cathedral to take visitors to the top of the spires (at an additional cost) we chose to walk up the 400 plus steps to see the view from the top. The staircase is narrow and steep and I would only recommend the climb for those with strong legs and a head for heights! The climb was definitely worthwhile both for the views across the city and for the balconies along the way where you can stop at take a close up look at some of the hundreds of intricate carvings that decorate the exterior. We also took a walk around the museum and enjoyed the scale models and early photographs of the construction.

After some lunch we took a walk along La Rambla, the main street in Barcelona, towards the marina. Along the way you will see a great variety of stalls selling all sorts of goods from souvenirs to live birds. There is also a good deal of performance artists and street entertainers to watch which kept us amused for a couple of hours. We finished the day with tapas at a small restaurant before retiring for the evening.

The following morning, at my insistence, we took the metro to Collblanc to take a tour round the famous Nou Camp, home to Barcelona football club and renowned as one of the world’s greatest football stadiums. After wandering around outside the stadium for about half an hour trying to work out how to get in, we found the ticket office and paid €11 euros each for the tour. The stadium is vast and as a football fan it was a great experience to walk through the player’s tunnel and stand on the pitch side. The tour took us through the behind scenes areas of the stadium including the away changing room, the commentary gantry and the chapel that was installed to allow the religious players to pray before games.

We finished our visit with a trip around the museum, where trophies and pictures of Barcelona’s many successes are displayed. The photo of myself next to the European cup still hangs on the wall of my lounge. Although we didn’t get to watch a game as there wasn’t a home match being played the weekend we were there, it was still an extremely enjoyable and worthwhile excursion.

The afternoon was spent with a walk around the marina and a visit to L’Aquarium, a sea life centre with more than 450 different species of marine life. The entrance fee set us back €15.50. Many of the aquatic creatures were quite unusual and enjoyable to watch but the highlight of L’Aquarium for us was the underwater tunnel. This is an 80 metre long passage beneath an enormous tank, with sharks, rays and other fish swimming inches above your head.

Our last evening was spent eating Mexican food and drinking cocktails in a small, modern and trendy Mexican restaurant called Margarita Blue followed by several more drinks in the Hard Rock Café (how shamelessly touristy) and then on to Razzmatazz, a huge nightclub famous for live music. Needless to say, drinking late into the night didn’t make for the most enjoyable of flights home the next morning!

Climbing the exciting cliffs of the mountains in Breckenridge, Colorado for example can take a lot of physical exertion for anybody. But for any dedicated person and the rewards of course, it’s all about the experience. Breckenridge is a great destination for seasoned climbers and beginners as well. Rock climbing is not for the feeble. But a lot of practice and dedication can go a very long way. Well of course a few tips could help too.

Now don’t just go and attempt to climb the first boulder you come across if I had you all excited with this article. If you don’t have any climbing experience at all, you are bound to just go as high as a few feet or meters if you’re lucky. Climbing can be a very difficult experience if you just go about it not learning the proper way. And by proper way, I mean inside a climbing gym supervised by professionals. Breckenridge Recreation Center has 2,500 square feet of climbing walls for you to practice in. Now that’s a lot of practice for anyone, beginner and pros alike. Easy slab routes are perfect for starters and overhanging routes are set by professionals to imitate what an experienced climber would encounter on the mountains.

Professional climbing instructors in Breckenridge Recreation Center offer climbing lessons for those who want pointers and tips. Depending on age and skill level, the classes will vary and includes technical information and practical sound advice. Classes are spent half of the day inside the climbing gym and half outdoors for the climbers to experience the real thing and practice what they have learned.

The proper know-how of a sport is always and foremost the most basic guiding principle of learning a new sport. Gaining the basic information by reading about rock climbing is an absolute necessity. Learning the terms, the safety precautions, the proper gear and how to use it, and even the climber’s lingo can help you greatly even before you begin to learn how to climb.

Use only appropriate and well fitted gear. Breckenridge Recreation Center, like most climbing gyms, rents shoes and harnesses, provide chalk bags, belaying devices and of course, expert belayers. As you get more practice and have a little bit of experience under your belt, you’ll want to purchase gear that is perfect according to your specifications. Consider your height and weight when getting the right harness, getting the right one is crucial. Have a professional, a sales clerk or someone with experience help you find the right fit. You will also need a stock of carabineers, or hooks to attach to your harness.

Chalk and a chalk bag are needed for gripping onto the rock; this will keep your clammy hands dry for a better grip. The most obvious gear you should have is a rope; it should be about 10 millimeters in diameter and about 60 meters long. In case of a fall, the rope should stretch a bit in order for it to carry the tension made by your weight. To hold your rope and hold on to it in case you fall, protection that works while you climb. Safety first. Don’t ruin a perfect day with an unnecessary mishap.

Breckenridge, Colorado is not only known for its snow covered mountains, a great ski trip destination during winter but also a place to be during summer. The mountains are exquisite for any rock climber, professional or beginner. Rock climbing is a very physically demanding sport; a very fit body, strong heart, dedication and perseverance are necessities for anybody who would and is in this sport. If heavenly and breathtaking views are not enough to lure you, Breckenridge is considered a vacationers paradise. Spas, restaurants, and if you stay long enough till Fall you might catch the ever famous Aspen trees change their color of their leaves. Ahh, yes, golden-yellow leaves cascading the mountains. Beautiful.

Ex-London while the Sun dissected Michael Jackson’s nose and praised Boardman’s hooterless gold-medal bicycle. Air China to Beijing, where taxis cost more than Lonely Planet predicts. A Chinese character itinerary from one Tim Han of China Travel whilst fellow workers drool over televised lithe Afro-American sprinters at the Olympics. Then to the no-longer Forbidden City. Piles of local tourists to negotiate.

Four hours of Xinjiang Airlines to Urumqi. Signs in Chinese and Russian plus Uigur written in Arab script (a recent innovation). Land lines across Inner Mongolia. Why and how so straight? Urumqi multiple-peaked. Piles of coal, scruffy high rise, snow-capped Bogda Shen at street-end. Pavement fortune tellers, traders. Food stalls. Women washing sheeps’ stomachs in a stream, tripe kebabs. Uigur town now Han Chinese, populated by Shanghai overspill, over 2000 miles from ‘home’. The second long march.

Uigur breakfast. Hot sheep’s milk, Chinese tea, flat tomato bread, sugared tomato and cucumber, pickled cabbage, thin congee, sheep’s milk butter, two giant sugar lumps. Uigur market. Fruits amid a forest of hanging lamb. Chinese market. Live vegetables and meats. Tank over-spilling with energetic eels (unit price). Self-knotting spaghetti.

Woman losing her gold watch at an illegal ‘find the lady’. Policeman looking on. Tears when the loss hits home. Renmin Park for noodles and rocket-fuel chili sauce. Bag slashers with finger-ring knives on a crowded bus. Care needed.

Car to Turfan. Fertile valleys. Barren mountains. Occasional snow. Road ploughed. Kazak yurts. Semi-sunken shade-making rammed-earth Uigur villages, invisible at a distance save for chimney smoke. Steep downhill gorge, spectacular river, rocks, white water and slate-grey hills. Into Turfan depression, snow-capped distance surrounding grey stone pit 100 miles across. 42 degrees at its base, 200 metres below sea level. Car ahead leaving tracks on molten road. A hefty gob from the driver irrigates. Gobi means stones. Plenty here. And then green. An oasis. A giant mirage?

Turfan. Latticed vines for street-shade. Hanging raisin grapes. 15 yuan fine for casual picking. Hotel tea in galvanised buckets. Turkish-style dancing and music. Genghiz-sacked rammed-earth cities of Goachang and Jiaohe. Painted tombs and brick minarets. Flaming mountains. Karez underground irrigation system. 3000 kilometres of channels. 1500 years old, gravity-fed from mountains at the depression-edge. Uigur culture’s greatest feat, and in full working order.

Bus to Daheyan. Two hours over bumpy stones to depression-edge. Dump of a railway town. Coal heaps, box buildings, waste land. Two women at war on station forecourt. Ramming victim’s head onto the ground. Blood. Onlookers. Inaction. A tense town of resentful postees.

500 miles to Liuyuan in Gansu. Featureless flat grey shale stone. Spectacularly unique. Snow mountains to the north. Utterly empty, save for smoking coal towns. 40 above in summer, 30 below in winter. Overnight by train. Dawn reveals same massive scene, now in brown.

Arrive Liuyuan. Daheyan writ similar. 120 miles south across the desert (black at first!), past remnant ramparts of Han Dynasty Greater-Great Wall. Camels and dunes of Taklimakan, world’s largest sand desert. Near Dunhuang oasis blossoms again. Sand and scree suddenly crop and tree. Feitian Hotel, with complimentary toiletries labelled Sham Poo and Foam Poo. Lunch. Fourteen dishes. Duck, foo-yong, cucumber, cabbage, oyster mushroom chicken, coriander pork, steamed buns, steamed bread, rice, beef broth and noodles, pork and green beans, pork and sweet chili, chicken and squash, plain noodles, water melon. Then to get the essential torch for the caves. Houses huddled together. Wood stores for winter piled on top. View across the roofs like a scrap heap. Ground level claustrophobic stoneware maze.

Cave day. Mogao Buddhist caves – closed from 12 to 2, full day needed for perhaps the most stunning sight on earth. 400 ‘caves’ (some cathedral size) in a sandstone gorge, between 400 AD to 1100 AD. Utterly dry, always dark, perfectly preserved. Everything painted. Tang period complex and colourful. A world of scenes by torchlight. Buddhas reclining, sitting, standing, posing. Thirty metre seated figure with thousands of unsmoked cigarettes and coins on his lap as offerings. Shock of Qing-renovated cave with Taoist figures. Ghoulish features, contorted, and a face in the groin. 40 caves seen in the day, archaeologist as a personal guide. Stunning. Fourteen dishes for dinner.

Desert bus back to Liuyuan. Always a fight for seats. Three dusty hours. Train to Lanzhou. 800 miles along Gansu-Qinghai mountainous border. More black desert, then yellow earth. Jaiyaguan fort at the limit of the Ming empire. Overnight by train. Country changed. Mountain pass, green rolling hills and stepped fields. Wheat harvest in. Straw dollies like children at assembly. Houses still of rammed earth. Lanzhou a thriving industrial city. Thirty hours of travel. Walk by Yellow River.

Fish in hotel restaurant tank all dead. Lanzhou bus expensive. 50 fen per trip. Radios and knitting banned. Han dynasty flying horse and bronze warriors. Steamed carp with rape on menu. The fish comes first. Train to Xian through yellow loess country. Deep furrows and gorges. All flat land cropped. 500 miles overnight.

Terra cotta warriors facing east to guard Qin Shihuang’s tomb. Made in pieces. Assembled in situ. Partly excavated section where piles of dismembered limbs emerge from the earth. New terra cotta warriors for sale from the factory behind the museum. Exact replicas of originals. Wheeze at the thought of the whole thing as a sham for the tourist trade.

Xian, like all Chinese cities, a square. Roads straight, intersecting always at right angles. Ancient centre walled, Ming rebuilt. Old mosque exquisite. Xianyang nearby, with Seventh century Qian tombs, museum with another 3000 Han terra cottas like a football crowd. Train to Beijing. 800 miles, 26 hours. Houses often caves in valley side. Later immense flat land, maize everywhere.

Temple of Heaven, Tiantan, and then Beijing Opera. Pause for beer at wayside stall. Served by moonlighting trainee stockbroker! Breakfast pickle amazing, like four year old camembert out of a shotgun. Takes the head off. Great Wall. Mucho touristico, but still stunning. Like climbing a giant ladder in places. “I climbed the Great Wall” T-shirts, prices lower the further you climb. Must be the air. Ming tombs dismissed by guide-book. Wrong. Amazing barrel vaulted rooms nine stories underground. Jade doors, carved thrones, marble, marble, marvel. Reminiscent of renaissance Italy. Everlasting bricks etched with names of their makers. Souvenir jade boat for 55000 pounds.

White drapes over erotic statues in Tibetan Lama Temple. Same bestial content in wall paintings. 24 metre gold Buddha through the incense-blur. No smoking signs everywhere.

Mao’s Maosoleum an emperor’s tomb. Lines for queues painted across the square. Feet pointing north towards Tiananmen Gate, upside-down feng shui. He is shiny, waxy and painted about the face. Moving lines file past on either side. No pausing. Outside, stalls with Mao T-shirts, Mao key rings, cuddly toys, post cards, magic lantern shows. Mao Zedong candy floss by the armful. Then Great Hall of the People. Dining room for 5000. Now fast food for tourists. Great Hall chop sticks, cigarettes, T-shirts. Great Hall of the People cuddly toys.

2500 miles. Three and a half weeks. 5 destinations. 50 caves. 6000 terra cotta warriors. 1 each Great Wall, Forbidden City, Beijing Opera, Mao Zedong. Hundreds of tombs, temples, pagodas, parks, bendi-buses and bicycles. 3 silk shirts on the Silk Road. One amazing trip.

I could have found lots of reasons why I shouldn’t take up the offer to ride to Machu Picchu in Peru. The obvious one being the distance from home, but even as I composed my ‘how kind of you to offer me such a wonderful opportunity but unfortunately I will sadly have to decline’ email, a niggling doubt ate at the back of my mind. Yes, it was miles away, and I would be travelling alone but I had always wanted to visit Machu Picchu and the chance to visit the heart of The Inca Empire on horseback, could anyone have written me a better script? Just as the Spanish conquistadors must have felt all those years ago the lure of the Inca’s grew stronger, so, one rainy Monday night in England with the newspapers spilling over with news of worldwide economic disaster I opened my laptop and booked my ticket to a journey of a lifetime.

Six days later I flew Manchester-Amsterdam-Lima aboard a KLM jet and later that same night I arrived in Lima. A flower market dedicated to the cultivation of orchids was in full swing in the main square and I mingled with the locals as they vied to negotiate for sacks of rich soil, fertilisers and orchid plants. Maybe it was the effects of a 12 hour flight or maybe it was the heady aroma of orchids that made me feel quite giddy with excitement in this new and exotic city.

I was up early the next morning, not surprisingly due to the 6 hour time difference, and I was keen to explore the city a little more before my afternoon flight to Cusco (capital city of The Inca Empire).  At this time of the morning the shops were still closed so I strolled down to the park which overlooks the Ocean and watched the early morning surfers attempting to dominate the unforgiving Pacific waves. A beautiful sculpture of lovers entwined is a popular venue for proposals in the city and the many plaques that surround it bear testimony to the happiness it has so obviously prompted. By lunchtime I found myself hurrying back to the hotel to pack up my belongings and to wave good bye to this colourful city. Later that day I was landing in Cusco and my long journey from England was looking more and more worth while! I was greeted by my hosts with the warmth and generosity of character that had become for me, to typify this wonderful country. As my bags were stowed securely in the minibus we exchanged greetings and headed off towards our evening destination.

The day starts early in Peru but this caused me no problem as my body was still firmly resisting the change to its internal clock. Today we were journeying to the ranch were the horses live close to the small town of Moyapata. After visiting the cosmopolitan city of Lima and then the cultural capital of Cusco, Moyapata represented for me what I had imagined the ‘real’ Peru to be. Simple houses, narrow streets and a crowded village square filled with inquisitive locals queuing to buy their breakfast from entrepreneurial villagers who arrived with large canteens full of hot food that they served at the roadside. Another forward thinking local had converted a room in his house into an internet café and as I sent my first emails home five young boys crowded around the computer next to mine playing enthusiastically on ‘Grand Theft Auto’…..is there no escape from internet games!

The stables were located along a bumpy track just outside of the town and here I met Ricardo the stable manager and his trusty assistant Arturo. They worked quickly and skilfully tacking up six horses in the time that it takes me to tack up one in England. The horses were mainly quarter horses all in good shape with glistening coats and a twinkle in their eye. We were skilfully allocated our steed for the next five days and I took some time to acquaint myself with Fulmini who was actually the only thoroughbred and whose mother had been successful on the race track in Lima before changing occupation to brood mare. Bearing this in mind and furnished with the further information that his name comes from the word fulminar which is roughly translated as ‘explosion from a gun’ I had the feeling that keeping up with the others was not going to be a problem for me!

The owner of the horses and of the lodges where we would be staying during our trip, was accompanying us throughout the ride and with his signal to proceed we set out on what was to be the most memorable journey I have ever made. Enrique, the owner, had had a vision for this expedition, as a keen skier he had often looked at the mountain lodges around the world and thought…..and why not in Peru? Today we rode north west towards the first mountain lodge and for the first time I began to look on the mountainous terrain in the same way as the Inca people must have gazed upon it 500 years ago. The tracks that we rode along were stony and rough but the horses made little of the rocks and boulders placing their hooves with exacting precision in just the right spot.

As we cantered along the mountain roadways, Enrique pointed out the old Inca irrigation channels which could clearly be seen cut into the mountain side on the opposite side of the valley. As the altitude increased my energy levels decreased, but the altitude had no such effect on Fulmini and as I became less and less effective in the saddle he gently took control, I could almost feel him raising an eyebrow and saying ‘another tourist!’ Just as I began to feel the first real effects of altitude sickness seeping into my body, thankfully the lodge came into view. Enrique’s vision was a reality, we had arrived at the Peruvian equivalent of an upmarket Colorado skiing lodge. Only the local staff, who were gathered outside to meet us, gave away our true destination. Like Fulmini, they too understood the needs of ‘rooky tourists’ and they greeted us with mugs of steaming ‘Mate de Coca’ a special tea prepared by the locals from coca leaves that is renowned for warding off the effects of high altitude. Ricardo and Arturo immediately slipped back into their well rehearsed professionalism and the reins of the horses were whisked away from the riders as we were ushered into our Inca Palace. The Lodge had been constructed with all the bespoke elegance that this period of history evokes, golden Inca masks adorned the walls and it was easy to let yourself become completely engulfed in this luxurious setting.

The following morning we rode out in the surrounding area of Soraypampa. Our aim was to visit the Humantay Lake which is fed by a glacier far above on the slopes of Humantay mountain. My horse appeared as fresh and as keen to set out as the day before and as we scrabbled up river beds climbing ever higher up the mountain I wondered what my horse at home in England would make of this adventure. The local’s scratch a meager living from these unforgiving slopes, the animals they own graze on the sparse vegetation, scrabbling up high on impossible slopes to reach every last piece of edible greenery. Their life is hard in the winter months but I couldn’t help but think that the freedom of their life here in the mountains was preferable to the regimented life of our farm animals back home. As we rode ever higher mules, donkeys, ponies and cows viewed us with languid eyes before continuing on their daily task of foraging.

The Inca’s considered glacial lakes to be the ‘eyes’ of the mountain and it was easy to understand why as I stood gazing upon the impossibly turquoise lake which appeared to be blinking at me from its mountain hideaway. To show respect to the mountain Gods the Inca’s would build apachetas (stone piles) and today walkers carry on with this tradition asking for safe passage as they trek high up in The Andes.

This evening we stayed in the same lodge to give us chance to acclimatize to the altitude, I was still drinking mate de coca tea as if it was going out of fashion and I hoped that there was no shortage of coca leaves in this region.

The following day we headed off for the second lodge in our quest to reach the enchanted city of Machu Picchu. High in the mountains the air was cold, the clouds wrapped themselves like white wool blankets across the mountain tops and today we were warned the temperatures would drop. We were riding across a mountain pass between two of the most sacred Inca Mountains, we could expect temperatures of minus five degrees including the wind chill factor. Our benevolent host, having taken pity on his poorly clad guests had given me a wonderful hand woven poncho the night before. The locals pride themselves on the quality of their textiles, all the colours are made from local plant extracts and I felt myself gradually slipping into the rhythm of mountain life as I pulled the poncho over my head.

The horses gradually climbed up along the narrow mountain tracks stepping effortlessly over fallen rocks and negotiating gaps in between boulders that would leave the average British goat quaking in its shoes. I learnt to trust my valiant thoroughbred, he knew more about these mountain pathways than me, so I accepted that my job was to sit as quietly and lightly as I could in his armchair saddle. As the rain began to fall, we all pulled on our waterproof capes and as I turned to take a photograph of the group it struck me that we could easily be taken for a set from The Lord of the Rings, when Frodo travels high into the mountains of Mordor to rid himself of the treacherous ring.

As we reached the highest point of the pass we paused to make an offering to the mountain god and as we cast our gift of coca leaves into the wind we each made our own personal wish. The guide explained that the stronger your belief then the more likely it was that your wish would be heard. I concentrated as hard as I could wishing that the peace of the mountains may be with me and with my loved ones forever. The horses seemed oblivious to the cold and as we headed down towards the second lodge they strode onwards with unfaltering steps. The lodge had sent the chef into the mountains to meet us, he had set up camp about 2 km from the lodge and a hot meal was awaiting us inside a cosy tent. As we ate a traditional Peruvian beef stew I giggled a bit as the rain beat down on the canvas it was a bit like a traditional British summer camping weekend in Wales.

The second lodge was my favourite, its theme being the religion and spiritualism of this region and as every day passed in my new mountain home I felt closer and closer to the tremendous force of nature that this environment exudes from every rock and plant.

The following day we were heading down the mountain again and as if by magic the harsh rocky scenery of the mountain pass changed into the cloud forest jungle. The temperatures soared, I was shedding layers of clothing with every step, orchids appeared on both sides of the track. I felt as if I had just changed continents. The owner of the lodges and horses, Enrique, is passionate about this area, through a scheme he has developed which is called Yanapana he plans to eradicate poverty in this area in the next 10 years. He employs only local people in the lodges, including the managers who are trained at his first lodge on the coast for up to three months. He encourages the local farmers to grow fresh produce for the lodges’ kitchens and he has a rota of employment for the local mule drivers. Twice a year a group of doctors and dentists from Lima and Cusco travel out to the remotest mountain villages to hold clinics with the families, some of which will never have seen a medic before.

Today we were visiting another of his projects, a small local school high in the mountains above the lodge where we would be staying that night. As the horses valiantly struggled to scramble up narrow rocky pathways, Enrique explained that many of the children walked this route everyday from the local villages, taking 2 hours each day to reach school and then a further two hours to return home in the afternoon. I thought about the X Box generation back home in Britain who can barely walk 5 minutes to the bus stop and wondered about how we could reach a ‘happy medium’. Eventually, just as I thought we would never reach the school I heard children’s voices drifting through the jungle high above my head. Around the next bend two smiling teachers appeared with a small group of pupils whom they were accompanying down to the river, we stopped to exchange news.

As we continued towards the school more excited children ran to greet us, they were so proud of their school that they wanted to accompany us and one or two of them hitched a ride on the back of our saddles. The school itself was a simple building but as I peered in the windows I could see the walls adorned with pupil’s work and knew that Enrique’s’ work had not been in vain.

That evening we stayed in a wonderful lodge perched high above the confluence of three rivers. The view was truly breath taking I almost had to pinch myself to believe that I could be surrounded by such dramatic beauty. That evening we dined on Pachamancha, a traditional dish cooked under the ground on hot stones.

The following day, I knew that my heart would be heavy, as this was our last day of riding. Our trail would end as the start on The Inca Trail upon which horses are banned. I was determined to make the most of my last few hours with Fulmini, I had developed such a strong bond with this valiant little thoroughbred and I sincerely hoped that he felt the same about me. As I climbed onto his back I could feel the warmth of his body through the saddle, it felt like home. We continued heading down the mountain following the river valley, as some points we dismounted and led our horses as the track narrowed. Eventually we reaches the small town of La Playa, as usual the whole village came out to greet us and I felt like a celebrity as I proudly rode along the narrow streets. As we left the town the road sloped up gently and the horses sprang forward into canter glad to have left the mountainous terrain and keen to stretch their legs! We raced along the broad pathways, our spirits soaring and out hearts racing in time to our horses’ hooves. As the path swooped to the right it was time to slow, we had reached the Inca Trail and now we finally had to bid farewell to our noble companions.

The following day we exchanged four legs for two as we hiked 900 metres uphill through the cloud forest to steal our first view across the valley of Machupicchu. The splendour of this scenery is something that will stay with me my whole life, words just cannot describe the unbelievable majesty of these mountains. After lunch we began our descent, we dropped over 1000 metres down to the river and then headed along the river bank towards a small train station where we would catch the train to Aguas Calientes, the town at the foot of Machupicchu.

The next day was my birthday and it is certainly one that I will remember forever. What better gift than a visit to one of the world’s most splendid architectural and cultural sites. As I walked amongst the Incan Temples the tremendous energy of this remarkable site seeped into my bones and I felt my spirits soar as the condors soared in the skies above me.

As I flew home towards England the following evening I tried to put some order to my memories of the past 10 days. What would I hold closest to my heart? The breath taking mountain scenery, the beautiful orchid flowers of the cloud forest, the cascading water of the tremendous rivers or the spiritual majesty of Machupicchu……no, I’m afraid I have to stay true to my heart, for me it was the flaming chestnut coat and the gentle patient eyes of my handsome sure footed Fulmini who had nobly carried me on this journey of a lifetime.  

Cost of Cruise Vacations vs. Ordinary Vacations

When dealing with the cost of a vacation, a cruise vacation compares very favorably with most land-based vacations. When you book a cruise vacation, your fee’s will include your lodging, all of your meals, as well as many daily activities that would cost extra if you took a typical land-based vacation. On land vacations you usually initially just pay for travel and hotel, having to add on daily meals and extra activities.  Once you start factoring in the cost of gasoline for travel, restaurant meals and admission fees to parks and other excursions, you almost always come out ahead by booking a cruise instead.

The Food is Fabulous!

When you go on a non-cruise vacation, you are usually on your own as far as food is concerned. Since you will be eating at various restaurants, you are at the mercy of a different chef every time, and you can never be sure of the quality of the service or the food. On cruise ships, however, the food is considered one of the best aspects of the entire trip. You will have plenty of choices for your meals from traditional dining room fare to pizza and burgers at a dockside café. You can literally graze your way through the entire day, starting with poolside breakfast buffets and ending with a midnight snack in a cozy bistro or in your room. You will never go hungry on a cruise, for anytime you need food it will be there for you.

And Then There is the Service…

Your cruise staff is dedicated to ensuring that you are treated like royalty the entire time you are under their care. Eating in the ship’s dining room is comparable to dining at a world-class restaurant. The service is cheerful, impeccable, and very friendly. If you are unhappy at all with your meal, they will happily return it to the kitchen and bring you anything else you desire.  If you have special dietary considerations, the kitchen will know about them beforehand and will have made arrangements to honor them. You are not a customer on the ship, instead you are considered an honored guest.

The glorious pampering continues outside the dining room as well. You will find chocolates on your pillow at night, and your coffee made just the way you like it when you sit down to the table at breakfast. After one night your dedicated wait staff will know you and your family, including your likes and dislikes. If you want anything at all, all you need to do is locate a cruise attendant and chances are they will arrange for it to be delivered to you as soon as possible.

Cruises Make Vacationing Easy

Remember those long car rides with your children in the back seat poking each other and growing crankier the longer you were in the car? You will never have to worry about that on a cruise vacation. No maps, no counting the miles to the next bathroom stop, no looking around for a decent restaurant or the next McDonald’s on the side of the road. When you are on a cruise, all the planning is done for you. All you have to do is sit back and relax, and decide which of the dozens of activities they have to offer you want to enjoy.

Cruise ships offer an incredible variety of activities to participate in. The newest ships are floating resort cities. You can drift from activity to activity depending on your mood and vacation style. Even better, cruise vacations offer something for everyone. If you have ever tried to put together a vacation that will please your sports-loving husband, your adventurous son, your shopaholic daughter, and your own delight in experiencing the best foods of the world, you will really appreciate a cruise vacation. Your kids can enjoy a morning at a deck side water park complete with water slides and wave pools while you relax at the shipboard spa with a top-of-the-line massage. You can golf, gamble, hike, and climb rock walls all before you even add in the on-shore excursions.

Whether you choose a leisurely cruise to smaller islands, or an adventurous cruise that takes you on a tour of the Alaskan coast, a cruise vacation simply ca not be beat for cost, convenience or pure fun. When you book a cruise vacation, you are booking an exciting getaway where the world does not interfere with all of its troubles and inconveniences.

If you have never considered a cruise before, this is the year to check it out. With the economic turmoil, most cruise lines are going all out to offer tempting deals to attract vacationers of all kinds. Shop around online and take a look at all the options and advantages that a cruise vacation offers.

So this gives you an idea of the mental status of Mrs Duggan when embarking on a journey in to the depths of the Caribbean with her least responsible daughter, without the only man in the world that can salvage any situation no mater how dire. I’d like to say I was sympathetic towards this but in honesty if I see weakness in some one I kinda play on it? “You’ve got the passports right?”, “Flight IS from Gatwick not Heathrow right?” etc.. Cruel really, but highly amusing. Anyhow the joke was on me on arriving at Gatwick at 4.30am to find that our 07.55am flight to Havana with Cubana airways was not anywhere to be seen on the board, and after half an hour frantic running around to discover that the plane on which we were meant to be flying on (that was meant to arrive in the UK at 6.20am from Havana) had not even left Cuba yet. Another half an hour later it was revealed that the plane was faulty and another plane was being shipped in from Madrid and due to leave at 2.30pm. Marvellous. Anybody got any great suggestions how to spend 9 hours in Gatwick airport departures? No me either. Reading maybe – well I cleverly packed all my nice easy going books in my main luggage and was carrying only Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls, trying to embrace the whole Cuba thing, which is not the easiest read to pass time, believe me. So giving in I bought a puzzler, plugged my ipod in and watched the weird and wonderful existence of the airport departure lounge inhabitant (and it is no wonder they make so many tv shows about them!)

Well the plane didn’t go at 2.30, it went at 4.30 and you’d think maybe after the hell my now extended family of Cubana airways victims had been through, we would be treated like movie stars, pampered with drinks and nibbles, checked on at ever available moment. Well you would think wrong and must be alerted to the fact that the communist regime demands Cubans all work, for more or less the same wage, and are in no danger of losing there jobs…..so where is the incentive to do their job well, especially when surrounded by hundreds of high maintenance tourists?! Anyways the plane had no entertainment, seating was a free for all, the staff were rude to the point of disbelief, there was a fucking annoying group of school kids among which were two blossoming lovers sat in front of me who snogged for the WHOLE 11 hour journey, and, as I had banished any hope of a vegetarian meal, no food. Gosh I sound like my grandma moaning. Still I console myself in the fact that the money spent on the flights went in to the Cuban economy and the not the pocket of that cunt Branson.

Anyways with plenty of time on my hand I though it was about time I tackled the lonely planets guide “A brief history of Cuba”. And so the obsession began…..

Hands up, I knew very little about the Cuban culture/history before I went (“They’re communists, right?”) and generally have no interest in learning about history of places. A few years back I spent a month travelling in Japan with two of my bestest friends, one who was living out there for a few years. We had a great time, however both being History(ish) students I can imagine my “You’ve seen one temple you’ve seen them all, lets go do Karaoke again” mentality grated a bit. I figured I would be the same in Cuba… “yes yes very nice now lets go dance salsa and drink rum!” Unfortunately, I don’t know if I’m getting older and this is what happens, but I’m absolutely fascinated by the whole shebang.

So as I say all I knew was they were communists and that recently some dude called Castro had stepped down. I was concerned that this may cause mayhem and riots but was assured by work colleagues that caribbeaners(?!) are far to busy drinking rum and smoking cigars to get all worked up about stuff, and as long as the yanks stayed away there was unlikely to be any civil unrest (and I would hope that the yanks had f*cked up enough countries in the last few years to stay away, at least until I had got a sun tan).

Reading the guide helped set the scene for me so I jotted down a little summary of events as I saw them:

-Native Cubans all lived happily

-Natives of another Caribbean island arrive, kill all the native Cubans and live happily

-Spanish turn up and fuck things up – killing loads and using the rest for slaves

-400 years later Jose Marti leads a revolution to get freed from the Spaniards and the USA step in last minute and steal the glory

-USA REALLY fuck things up

-A group of rude boys (inc. Castro and Che Guavara) plot to over throw the Americans and some dick Batista, and trampled them freeing Cuban residents giving them the ‘ideal’ existence

-To piss of the US, Russia keep Cuba alive by buying lots of sugar and cigars

- Russia (or I should say the USSR) fucks up (greedy bastards) and Cuba gets screwed over and people are starving

- They start letting in lots of snappy happy tourists (such as myself) to take all their money so they can eat again.

So you can see why I gave up history at the 1st available moment!

Anyways back to the long gruelling flight…..we eventually got off that blasted craft about 1am Cuban time (5am English) due to a rather extended drop off in Holguin, and rushed through visa check and baggage which took us in to arrivals about 2am….

So first thought is will our transfer be there seeing we were meant to arrive at 4pm? On first inspection no, but after half an hour panic we deduced that our company we booked with has two names – how fucking stupid of us! So we taxied off in to Havana praying our hotel had 24hr reception. Unfortunately I didn’t get to see much of the city on the drive as planned being 3am but at least we were on our way. Getting closer to the hotel I started getting a nauseous feeling which is far too familiar with me now being in a city at night, stemming from a nasty incident in Barcelona a few years back (and yes the story gets more elaborate each time it is told – they had knives you know, did I say knives? I meant guns). So I wasn’t all best pleased when I found out our taxi couldn’t drive down the street our hotel was on and intended to leave us at the end of it. A few pesos (I’ll explain money later) encouraged him to wait while mother dear (entirely unfazed by this) ran up the road to check it was open. Halle-fucking-lujah it was. Almost kissing the cab driver I popped on my backpack and headed up the road to the lovely “Beltran de Santa Cruz” Hotel.

So being greeted with a smile by the receptionist he then blurts out “There is a bit of a problem with your room, the plumbing has broken and we have had to relocate you to another hotel, it is only just 5 minutes round the corner across the square”

What point would you snap? Honestly? I snapped here. “Look buddy, We’ve been up for 30 hours, 13 of these spend in fucking Gatwick airport, 13 on a fucking aeroplane fresh out of Bedrock and the rest in transit between these places, we haven’t eaten, we haven’t changed out underwear, we haven’t cleaned our teeth, and we smell like dead fucking rats and you are trying to tell me that you are going to make 2 poor helpless women lug there baggage across a city unknown to them at 4am in the morning to go to a hotel because you have a fucking plumbing problem?”

At least that is what was being said in my head…what I actually said, in a very weak and feeble whine “Please will you come with us, I’m scared”. And bless his cottons he did.

Eventually my head touched a pillow at 5.30am Cuba time (9.30am English) after dealing with the final disaster of the night that on opening my rucksack I found my suncream had exploded all over my stuff. A perfect start to a holiday wouldn’t you agree? Things could only get better.

I guess maybe I should actually tell you something about my trip instead of my script from “Holidays from hell”.

This was my first and most definitely not last trip to the Caribbean. I think I was about 8 when I bought “100% reggae” and decided that I would spend my honeymoon in Jamaica, so I hope I will again reach these shores, given I can find someone who will marry me. Plus there are so many other places to visit, St Lucia, Barbados, Antigua, Bahamas etc etc…Lets hope this future husband is rich! Cuba, however seems to have something different to the rest and walking out in to the sunny streets of Havana that first morning confirmed this. The Cubana airways big day out suddenly seemed a distant memory. Breath taking architecture ranging from the Spanish colonial style buildings in old Havana, (many completely derelict, but in a funky way!), to neo classical in the vedado district and art deco American influence in central Havana. Diversity that I have never seen in any city, and with the added benefit that unlike most cities they have avoided shoving eyesore 1970s tower blocks dead in the centre of some beautiful area. Any run down ugly buildings just added to the character.

It isn’t a cliché that there are bands playing at every restaurant, on every street corner with people singing and dancing around. Its true, I was there. The first pit stop was at il Patio restaurant in Cathedral square (possibly my favourite mojito of the whole holiday, though there were many and the 1st is bound to taste best!). There was a little 3 piece band playing (guitar, sax and bass) while some nut case woman danced around (mum said she had been there 2 years ago when her and my sister had gone!). They were awesome, I just couldn’t get enough of it! Then this guy from the crowd (Italian I think) just waltzed up, asked to have a go on the sax and just wiped the floor with some improvisation which put anything I ever managed when I played in to a remedial category. That wouldn’t happen anywhere else in the world and the punters went mad for it!

So the first day was mostly spent getting a feel for the place. Walking around getting lost, stopping for mojitos every now and again taking several thousand of photos at every new street at every possible angle. In the afternoon we did (on recommendation by some friends) a ferry trip across to the other side of the water to climb up to a fort (and a MASSIVE statue of Jesus). It was really fun actually as this clearly wasn’t a main tourist attraction and the ferry seemed to be literally the locals bus to and from work. We stuck out like sore thumbs! Also at the top of our little trek we discovered not only amazing views of Havana but also a mini museum of Che Guavara’s house where he lived post revolution and pre him running off to help Bolivia and get himself killed. Here I discovered he had asthma, just like me, which briefly inspired me to go and start a revolution, but I soon got over it.

Food in Cuba is shit, I mean really shit. I don’t actually understand how they can get it so wrong, but they do and especially as a vegetarian we were screwed. You get eggs, lots of eggs, so many eggs that the word is still making me feel physically sick. Mother, having been here before knew all this so had packed a kettle and a big bag of cous cous to help us in dire situations, but had also brilliantly worked out the whereabouts of the only Italian restaurant (possibly in the whole of Cuba) so in Havana at least we managed to get half decent meals! So after munching our way through a big margarita and one more quick mojito we scooted off to bed pretty early, still kinda fucked from the previous days monstrosities.

The second day was one massive lecture on politics and history for me. Though normally this concept would make me shudder with fear and despair, as I said before I’m utterly gripped by the fact that this teeny little spec on the earth’s surface has contributed so much to the history of the human race. We had a bit of fun first though getting a taxi ride to the Plaza de la Revolucion in a classic, bright purple (my favourite!) 1950s Buick with a rather bemused driver being made to pose for many a cheesy snap! The Plaza is kinda bare unfortunately with only 2 things to see. Firstly the Jose Marti memorial statue in front of the massive lookout, which we went up to get some awesome views across the city and watch lots of scary turkey vultures circle around it. And secondly my favourite bit – the huge Che image on the side of the government building with ‘Hasta la Victoria Siempre’ (Forever Onwards Towards Victory) written along side. I have a bit of a Che obsession to be honest, is it weird to think he was hot? Anyways bare as it was it felt pretty cool to be standing where so many political rallies and addresses from Castro and other revolutionaries has taken place.

After this we got a bug taxi (look at pics) to the hotel nationale (very posh!). It was so funny watching so many people turn up in mercs and swish cars and we turn up in a little yellow blob! Here we had a mojito looking out across the water to where we had been the previous day and then set off on quite a bit walk down the sea front where we finally ended up at the Museum of the Revolution. Here contained everything you would ever need to know about Cuba from the dawn of time. At some point it was really quite bizarre how much detail they added – “Here is the spoon Castro used whilst hiding in Argentina” – no joke! But it was fascinating. I won’t bother saying much about it (as I’ve already given you my brief history of Cuba) but one of the highlights was the “Wall of Cretins” thanking various political idiots for their input in causing/consolidating the revolution. They really don’t give a shit who they insult!

The next day we had rather a stressful bus journey (6 hours – 1 toilet stop) to a supposed beautiful, friendly colonial town though on first impressions this didn’t seem to be the case. The bus ride in showed some really quite nasty, run down areas lacking in the Havana charm, and on arrival into the bus station crowds of people were literally being restrained from mobbing us. They were advertising there “casas” – equivalent to hostelling in Cuba is to stay in casas with a Cuban family who cook and provide for you, but it all seemed all to threatening for me. So we jumped in a cab and headed for our hotel ‘Las Cuevas’ (the caves). Any doubts about the next few days in this place were soon dissolved when we saw how lush where we were staying was!! We dumped our luggage and were straight to poolside sampling the local delicacies – mojitos, pina colladas, and rather bizarre red, orange and blue drinks called Trinidad Colonials, which I took a liking to. We managed to befriend a group of locals in no time who were feeding us more rum and nibbles and giving us salsa lessons. I was pretty pro already after my set of classes I went to in my “I’m sad, lonely and desperate and need to learn salsa to meet more sad lonely and desperate people phase”, but I did learn a new step which was nice. Plus got a chance to laugh at my completely uncoordinated mother. Then at about 5pm, in a matter of 3 minutes the sky was covered in thick black clouds and the heavens opened. I’ve never been in a tropical storm before and I just found it absolutely hilarious – the whole area was flooded after 2 mins of rain, yet it is still bloody boiling and people were still dancing and in the pool! I asked my new best friend Tiago how long these storms usually last to which he replied “That is up to St Peter” – can’t argue with that!

For our first full day in Trinidad we got up bright and early and put on our sexy walking gear and headed off into the mountains on a hike with another unfairly beautiful couple from the hotel and our lovely little tour guide Jordan, who kinda sounded like Borat when he talked which was a tad off putting but you got used to it!

The first part was walking through Trinidad centre which was a lot nicer than it had seemed from the bus the day before – lovely and colourful, with people all going about there everyday business or hanging about in there door ways, playing the guitar or selling fresh fruit. The second bit took us across some fields in to the national park in the thick jungle like mountains. We hiked for about two hours ending up eventually at a gorgeous waterfall and water reserve where Cuban kids were jumping in and playing. I abstained as always when is comes to water that may contain living things. Though I did dip my feet in and noticed a huge lobster like nasty thing crawling around on the bottom and concluded that I had made the right decision.

The hike back was not as fun. The midday heat had really hit in and Trinidad town is located on top of a hill and our hotel on top of a hill on that hill and energy levels were most definitely low by the end. Still we had an afternoon once again of cocktails by the pool and salsa dancing so can’t complain! This evening after dinner (hotel buffet slop) we were treated to an Afro-Caribbean traditional show. 4 uber hot black dudes pranced around stage doing crazy things like eating hot coal and picking up tables with their teeth. It was rather erotic and I may have left a little puddle on my seat.

Next day was our last day in Trinidad town as we were heading that evening to the Ancon Peninsula, about 30 mins south of Trinidad on the coast. Still we made the most of the morning in the hotel. It was actually called Las Cuevas for a reason and (as you probably guessed) this is because it was situated above a group of caves. One of which is open for tours during the day and very funkily becomes a night club by night (though we never went to this unfortunately). So my little buddy Tiago took us on a tour of it which was just amazing! Stalagmites and stalactites to your hearts content – could just imaging people salsaing around them! He he!

After this it was a bit more pool but, as seemed to be the pattern here, late afternoon St Peter pissed on us so we decided we may as well transfer to the new place while the weather was crappy. So off we went through town (which at this point resembled a river) and down to the coast for a few days of sunbathing and chilling. Arriving at the place it seemed nice enough but being an all-inclusive had a rather different clientele, namely idiotic, drunk, burnt Brits. Well I only saw one of these to be honest, a 50ish year old fat northerner who was being rude to a bar man, but it just really got me annoyed. I just don’t understand these people who just want to go on holiday to not actually experience anything of the country, treat the staff like slaves, and abuse the unlimited available alcohol. Anyways we checked in and had an explore and felt pretty disappointed to find that the ‘beach’ didn’t actually really exist– well there was a patch of sand but it didn’t extend to the sea. Compared to our last place it just all seemed a bit, well seedy. The sun wasn’t quite back out so we camped at the pool bar and had a few drinks. My mum, sensing that it wasn’t quite perfect, and of a far too sensitive nature decided to drink a few to many pinas and start really getting on my tits by being over enthusiastic about the place “I’m really warming to this place Alice, I’m really warming to it. Yes, I’m definitely warming to this place”…..then declared she wanted to swim in the ocean before dinner. So in a drastic mother/daughter roll reversal I was trying my best to, in the least patronising way possible explain that to throw herself off a small cliff edge to get to the sea when she was pissed as a fart was possibly not the best idea. Needless to say a combination of her being drunk and over emotional, and me still being a bit wound up and beginning to feel a bit ill culminated in us having our only argument of the holiday involving lots of “I’m just an embarrassment to you” and “I’ve booked us a rubbish holiday I bet you wish you were with your friends” comments……not enjoyable. Especially not enjoyable as the me beginning to feel sick actually turned out to be food poisoning and I spent the next 12 hours on the loo simultaneously pissing out of my arsehole and vomiting. Not the highlight of my holiday.

But a new day dawned. Feeling rather weakened from my night in the shitter I abstained from breakfast (if I saw a plate of eggs I don’t know what would have happened) but walking around I suddenly realised what an over reaction the previous day had been. The place was gorgeous. There wasn’t any drunk English people at all – just that one who was only kicking off because they refused to serve him (quite rightly so – the cunt) and even better than that we found the proper beach! A gorgeous little practically deserted beach with a tiny bar behind it and a semi circle of rocks about 100m out where, according to mum, was the best collection of tropical fish she had ever seen. It was perfect for me to whack my ipod on, indulge in a brilliant book (not Hemingway!) and recuperate from my traumatic night, whilst my overly excitable mother swam, and befriended any body who came within 10 feet of us. Much better!

The next day we took advantage of the hotel free bikes and went on a bike ride down through the peninsula. I haven’t been on a bike ride since I was about 10 and after this I just don’t know why?! It was such fun! Admittedly a bike ride surrounded by sea on both sides on a road lined with palm trees is a lot more appealing than cycling down the A413 but it really should be done more often!! We stopped off on the tip of the peninsula where there was a hotel and mum jetted off on a boat trip to do some snorkelling on the reef (I obviously didn’t – I’m not going to go in to my fear of the sea here – you’ll only mock me) and I had a chance to improve on my ‘getting stupid now’ tan (apparently those last 2 years working in suncare hasn’t really changed my opinion on skin cancer).

We had one more morning on the beach after this before our transfer back to Havana which I was actually ready for by this point. Anyone who knows me knows how obsessed I am with being sun tanned but this whole “culture” malarkey had really got to me and I was itching to get back to Havana and learn more! At the end of the day I could get a sun tan in Lanzagrotty if I wanted for a tenth of the price (with the added benefit of picking up a few STIs), and my tan was pretty much perfect by then anyway (if I don’t mind being incredibly arrogant!)

The bus journey back was even more of a fucking nightmare than the way there. 2 hours longer than it should have been, over booked (so people were standing), road closures etc etc. Plus when we got to Havana we were so late that there were no taxis at the bus station to take us to a hotel, and it was bloody raining again! After pretty much every other person on the bus had managed to hail a cab (we need to be more pushy!) we eventually got back to the lovely Beltran and had a gourmet meal of cous cous prepared en suite and settled down to bed ready to make the most of our last day.

The next morning Havana all of a sudden seemed 100 times more amazing than it was when I was there 9 days prior (and it was a pretty amazing then). Just mooching around I suddenly got that horrible “By 5pm this evening this is all going to be over” feeling. And I wasn’t ready for it. Trying not to let it detract, we walked through the beautiful streets of old Havana through cathedral square where we had that first life changing mojito, and on to the sea front where we decided it was time to tackle the hustle and bustle of the markets and buy some pressies and tacky souveniers, a Che Guavara beret being the most important, of course. Then we went on to find firstly a new discovery which was a street which appeared in ALL the paintings of Havana which were on sale in the market. This was a street with a sign hanging down saying “La Bodeguito del Medio” which turned out to be a tiny little bar where Hemingway used to hang out and it seemed many other celebs had been there too as the wall was covered in pictures and signatures. This took us on nicely to our next planned point of call. The Ambos Mundos Hotel, where Hemingway stayed when he was visiting. They have preserved his room exactly how he had it when he stayed and you can look round it. Also the roof of this hotel has a bar so we went up there and whiled away the rest of our afternoon having a few drinks up there, soaking up the city sunshine with fabulous views and lovely company.

On our walk back to the hotel to catch our transfer something occurred to me. These were streets of a capital city and there were people sitting in there doorways nattering, people playing guitars and others dancing and singing around, kids playing baseball, women hanging their washing out there windows. This wouldn’t happen anywhere else, ever. Can you imagine walking through London chatting to people, dancing with them, children playing? I bet 99% of Londoners don’t even know there next door neighbour’s names! And this was communism – everyone equal, everyone working as a team, no greed, no corruption, a real community. And I thought ‘I could do this’ – I could live in an ‘ideal’ world possibly I’d prefer the countryside – where the houses each have a chicken and a plot of land to grow veg. But I could really live like that. I’ve always been against people earning more money than is conceivable doing satanic jobs, effectively only making money by screwing other people over – bankers, lawyers etc. And I’ve been against the situation you are born in to reflecting how far you can make it in life (I know it isn’t meant to be like this but it is). And I love the ideal. Everyone gets the same, provided they work, whatever they do and as a benefit receive a perfect education system, perfect national health service, a perfect everything government run and a complete sense of patriotism. Real patriotism – not just beating up other nation’s football fans patriotism.

I started thinking about England and wondering why I wanted to stay living here. A country where our so called “left wing” prime minister (who apparently is Gordon Brown now, not Tony Blair anymore) spends £2000 of the British tax payers money per year on cleaners for his stupid amount of houses also paid for by the state. And where white trash Vicky Pollards with 10 babies leak money out of the welfare state whilst moaning about the “bloody asians and poles – they come over here taking our jobs and tax money”. They fucking pay tax so why shouldn’t they be entitled to it? I’d rather they got it than the fat arse Keith Millers of the world. It is disgusting really and I don’t want to be a part of it.

But of course Cuba doesn’t have the ideal. The dream is there and I think it probably worked before the eastern block dissolved, but then again if they can’t really support themselves as a single unit then communism fails doesn’t it.

Personally I think one of the major problems as to why things aren’t working as well as they should stems from tourism. Admittedly it saved the country from starvation but it has created no end of issues and seemingly split the people in to two personality types. Type one are mainly the older generation, still very much pro-Castro. These remember and appreciate that they lived well post revolution, pre special period (between the fall of the eastern block and start of tourism), and also appreciate that the tourists saved their arses when things were looking pretty bleak. These people hence treat tourists with gratitude, respect and kindness. The second type, what I’m calling the ‘next’ generation of Cubans, seem to be much more cynical and unsure what they get is really ‘fair’. These people are really quite resentful of tourists often to the point they are just plain rude (turning their backs, shooing away etc). I think the problem is as they are unaware of what life was like before. All they see is these rich idiots, with their snazzy clothes, flash digital cameras and disposable cash to throw about, travelling around seeing all different cultures and places. Everything they can’t have and what they could have if things were different. I suppose it would piss me off.

Another massive problem with letting tourists in is the discrepancy in what people earn depending on whether they work in the tourist industry or not. Money is a bit complex but Cuba has two currencies – local pesos and convertible pesos. Tourists are only eligible to use convertible pesos and each convertible peso is actually worth 10 Cuban pesos. So effectively if I were to go in to a shop and buy a bottle of water – this would cost me say 1cp (around 50p) and a cuban 1p (i.e around 5p). So effectively they are charging tourists ten times for everything which still always seems reasonable to us (2 mojitos tended to be around 5cp – £2.50 – not bad!). This means when you tip someone in a bar, say 1cp – they are getting about £5.00 worth out of it yet it is only costing you 50p. I think this is absolutely genius and I can’t see why other countries haven’t caught on. In Thailand why not charge £5.00 for a meal instead of 50p?! Tourists will still pay £5.00! However the people in tourist industry, with their tips, get much more disposable cash than anyone else which brings about inequality in the people – everything communism isn’t. Take for example the scenario of the hiking trip we did in to the mountains in Trinidad. The cost of this was 7cp each so 14cp in total and seeing as our guide stayed with us from 9am-2pm in the blistering heat enthusiastically talking all the time, we had a 20cp note and told him to keep the change. So he got 6cp – £3 to us, worth £30. This makes you feel great as a tourist. Giving a tip of not that much value to you makes a huge different to the local’s life. In fact their monthly salary is 300p so we actually tipped him a 5th of what he would earn in a month. Crazy really. However you think of all the doctors and teachers etc who slave their arses off and don’t see anything of the sort coming their way. Where is the incentive to work then? This isn’t fair and is where the system really breaks down. You could definitely feel a certain civil unrest and I reckon especially now as Castro has stepped down, big changes are afoot. I guess if you were thinking of going I’d recommend going asap. (Hark at me making political predictions when 2 weeks ago I didn’t even know what communism really meant!)

Anyways enough politics and back to reality. Damn I wish I could but I’m hooked! Six months ago, to spend all my time googling Che Guavara and ‘communism for dummies’ or writing ridiculously long blogs that no-one will read (except maybe Sam – and even he will probably have got bored by now), would have been fine as I had nout better else to do. However right now I do, like revise for these bastard exams, and this new found obsession is greatly reducing the productivity stakes!

All in all the holiday (which is what it was at the end of the day) was a big success. I’d love to go back there and see and do more of it, and like so many places I’ve been I say I will one day. But then I realise that to go back to somewhere I have already been means sacrificing going somewhere new which I can get momentarily obsessed with until the next place…..etc etc.

Isla de Providencia & Santa Catalina are two small mountainous outcrops of land less than 8 square miles both situated 400 miles southwest of Jamaica and a quarter of the way on an imaginary line traced across the Caribbean from Punta Gorda, Nicaragua to Cartagena, Colombia. And a few hours after arriving, there I was, sitting behind this large, black, simpatico and unmet women who decided to take me on her small motorcycle to meet my friend Rolando in order to hand him some pictures I had taken the last time I was here. That type of kindness struck me since it is not very usual in many other places. Clearly on the maps says Col. (Colombia) after the name of the islands. How far is reality from the assumptions this abbreviation brings to people’s minds.

The hurricane season has hit few but strong blows on the islands. One of them came about in 1510 when the expedition of Diego de Nicuenza separated from Alonso de Ojeda (Colon´s Second Voyage) and was caught in a storm and its ships blown to a small island which Nicuenza named Santa Catalina, because it was common in those days to name sites after the Saint of the Day. To the other larger island just 200 meters across a shallow sea he gave the name Providencia in honor to the God that had just saved him.  The beautiful Lover’s Floating Bridge now links the two islands.

A name and a position on a map brought settlers. As the Spanish colonies in Central and South America grew more and more, slaves tried to escape from imprisonment and reached the islands.

So it was for 150 years when the buccaneers, having been given the Elizabethan wink to raze the Spanish galleons that traversed the region hefty with the New World richness, looked for a good place to establish their operations and cure their illnesses. They found these mountainous islands, ungoverned, hills ready to be used as searching periscopes over the Caribbean. Who else could find safety there but the famous Welsh pirate Morgan with also famous Paco, the parrot that sat on his shoulder? Legend says he buried the treasures stolen in Panama in 1671 in these islands.

After Morgan’s escape to Jamaica the Spanish took control of the islands but only by word of mouth since English men with their slaves from Jamaica and the Cayman Islands tried to establish cotton farming here but instead ended up raising cattle. By this time the population was as diverse as the vessels that traversed the Caribbean. Nevertheless, lovers were not interested in racial aspects and African, Anglo, Dutch (who were also around) and Latin mixed, populating the island with that distinct clear eyes-dark skin look of many persons in Providencia. After much give-and-take among governments and several entangled political moves that passed through England, Spain, colonial Guatemala, Chile (the son of Admiral Louis Aury, a corsair, claimed the islands for Chile), Nueva Granada (which included actual Colombia and Panama) and Nicaragua, Colombia would stay with the islands although, as so many islands nowadays, looking at a map it would never occur to anyone that they belong to this country.

Providencians feel Colombian but most of all they feel Providencian, a pride openly demonstrated when they start so many phrases with the words “Our island” talking to outsiders or when they speak a distorted English among them with distinct accents and Spanish words intermixed but very different to the ‘Spanglish’ spoken by Hispanic immigrants in the U.S. They even distill their own Providencia Old Bushi Rum (a little too strong for me I have to say) using spring water outbursting from the mountains. As kind and joyful as they are to other people, they don’t want their island becoming another San Andres, a larger island of the same archipelago with duty-free commerce all around and overpopulation problems. Residence in the island is controlled by a government agency called OCCRE and for outsiders is very difficult to get permanent resident status as more and more tourists that visit Providencia want to stay and share the secret. As I casually heard a woman saying to another: “that seems to happen to everybody that comes to the island. They come for eight days, fall in love with it and then don’t want to leave”.

I remember one night in Providencia as one of the most pleasing I ever had in my life. I was staying at one of the two cabins that a middle-aged fisherman named Van Britton had on Black Bay. That night the waves crashed against the lower wall of the cabin and through a glassless window I could see myriad stars while I slowly fell asleep. At morning a temperate breeze swayed my mosquito net in harmony with the ebb tide. That morning I felt I had found what peace and harmony are about.

There are no big hotels in Providencia, instead there has been an initiative toward having the natives install small cabins in synchrony with the colorful wooden architecture of the islands. The ‘native dwellings’ program surely established the islands as the place for a tourism more willing for nature’s calm rhythms but not entirely disregarding human conveniences or night life for that matter: it is a pleasure to go dancing reggae on one of the open-air bars just by the sea as I did one night with some friends. We arrived a little early by Providencian standards, so we just waited there talking, drinking beer and enjoying the warm night air. By midnight the dance floor was filled with people moving softly to Lucky Dube’s songs.  A longhaired Rasta told me: “this is great, everybody is groovying now” giving me a big smile. I couldn’t have said it better.

The next day I snorkeled from Black Bay to South West Beach passing in front of small beaches with cerulean bays in whose depths hid octopuses, eels, sea snakes and all kinds of coral fish luminous under the sun. I lingered in the water while some horses, one of the foreign contributions to the islands, were readied for a race on the distant beach. It was another Saturday for the Providencia derby and kids around twelve years old jockeyed horses along the shore, riding without saddles and hoping for a moment of glory, the horses’ owners expecting big dividends.  If it’s not horses it’s sail boats or dominoes. “People just love to bet even if they have no money” a young woman named Luz Marina Livingston told me.  But more than that they love the sea. These people are fishermen, sailors and even the most office-secluded person has to take a glimpse at the Caribbean waters daily. They depend on the sea for food in many ways: the staples are fish, sea snail, lobster, and the black land crabs that have to reproduce in the sea but most of the supplies also come by sea on twice-a-week (when lucky) ships from the continent: gasoline, potatoes, rice, flour, drinking water, etc.  If a ship breaks as it happened when I was there, everybody tries to move around the least possible. There are two occasions when everybody stays at their home in Providencia, everyone coincided: when the ship with the gasoline for the hundreds of motorcycles doesn’t come and when it rains.  So from late April to July during the rain season the other ubiquitous inhabitants of the islands come out and take control.

The phenomenon of thousands of crabs that live in the mountains, following their ancestral instincts, coming down the hills to the coast where they reproduce is a truly remarkable natural event. I had specially come at this time of year to witness the march. Confusion, however, was what I found. If somebody told me the crabs had already come down this year just a week before my arrival, a few hours later another person, with the same ‘I know for sure’ look on his face said that they were still to come. 12 days went by and I had to resign myself to watch the crabs eating decaying matter at night. There are many sites where this same reproduction spree takes place. In Christmas Island on the Indian Ocean 120 million crabs (a different species) do the same process and though such numbers are not reported in Providencia, the pictures I had seen showed black crabs covering the only paved road in the island which could be closed at this time of year at Crab Peak Hour Traffic.

After a heavy nocturnal storm I rose early one clear morning day and headed for shore where I found tiny little spiders moving in the pockets of rain. What I took for spiders were actually newly transformed land crabs heading to the mountains. There weren’t a lot of them but it was wonderful to see a life cycle completion, how endurance had worked for these little crabs after being dropped as eggs in the ocean without any other maternal care.

I had yet to see the beginning of the cycle, and it occurred one night when I heard scratching noises on my room door. I knew burglary wasn’t one of Providencia’s problems so I figured it could only be that the crabs had started their 200 meters migration to the shore. The females’ underbodies were full with eggs that looked like Iranian caviar ready to be spread on a cracker. As I moved through the wave of crabs they clapped their claws fiercely. I saw some entering the hotel’s kitchen, climbing walls, crossing the road painfully slowly, descending staircases and some even plummeted from high cliffs to fall unharmed on the rocky shore. The ones that made it to shore settled a little bit and then came forward to reach the gentle surf. At the first contact with the water the females raised their claws like in ecstasy and danced a trembling tropical ‘cumbia’ letting go of their eggs.

The day before departure I grabbed my hammock and decided to tackle The Peak, the tallest mountain of the island. I had never been on that part of the island and, as I would learn later, should have. I passed the last settlements where a few undernourished cows grazed over the dry grass. Then I followed the spring the owner of the hotel told me to look for. The spring was a trickle at this time of year and the tall trees cast a green tinge down over the rocks that formed every now and then small cascades where I sat massaging my back with the falling water. Apparently the mango trees had adapted very well to the environment and some were so plush with fruit that the rocks below were stamped with their explosions. A small shack appeared near the end of the forest assuring me I was in the right direction since this should be the cabin of a hermit Rasta man that makes a living with what he can reap from nature. A little farther up, the forest was one of short palm trees and scrubby vegetation; the ground was rocky which reminded me that this archipelago had risen through volcanic activity millions of years ago. On the top the metallic plaque that stated the 370 meters (1220-ft.) of altitude of The Peak welcomed me mirroring the setting sun.

 Since its eruption from the depths through all the years of political moves of possessive governments the island and Providencians have managed to keep the same peace and tranquility of always and that is their best kept secret.

Day in the Life: Providencia

Providencia

 Adventure Island at Tampa is close by to Busch Gardens and is packed with excitement and adventure.  It offers around 34 30 acres of water rides and other attractions.  There are picnic and sunbathing areas, along with outdoor cafes, snack bars and gift shops.

For people who love thrills, the Wahoo Run plunges up to five riders at a time, more than 15 feet per second as this half-enclosed tunnel twists and turns more than 600 feet to a waiting splash pool below.  Wahoo Run has been called the “fastest tunnel river raft in the world,” Here, you will corkscrew through spins and spirals propelled by more than 10,000 gallons of water. 

The Tampa Typhoon will also have you screaming as you “free-fall” seven stories down a 76 foot water slide on one of the most heart-pumping rides in the park.

Other thrill rides include the Splash Attack, Caribbean Corkscrew, Runaway Rapids, Aruba Tuba and the Gulf Scream, a huge 210-foot body slide that whisks you into the waiting pool below at 25 mph.

Also try Paradise Lagoon. This is a 9,000 square foot attraction, which features several individual attractions.  These include a rope walk, a cable drop, several slides and a 20-foot platform jump for cliff jumping.

The Endless Surf is Adventure Island’s 17,000-square foot wave pool that generates waves up to five feet high for hours of total fun at the coolest and wettest place in Tampa.

For those who prefer a more relaxing and quieter ride, there is Rambling Bayou where you can drift around Paradise lagoon in a car tyre inner tube (beware of the sun though as the water seems cool but the sun is very hot).

Adventure Landing: Shipwreck Island Waterpark – Jacksonville Beach

Adventure Landing and Shipwreck Island Water Park is a combination water park and amusement park located between Jacksonville Beach and the Intercoastal Waterway.

It is the largest amusement complex in northeast Florida, and offers family fun for all ages.  Shipwreck Island, is the interactive waterpark, and includes a variety of water attractions such as a wave pool, slides, inner tubing and a very unique uphill waterslide. The Shipwreck Island Play Village is the main centrepiece for children, and includes multiple attractions for young guests of all ages.

Adventure Landing/Shipwreck Island Water Park has three “extreme” slides. The newest ride is the Hydro Half Pipe, where single, double and triple-tube riders experience a sudden, nearly vertical, drop of 40 feet, and are then propelled through a pool of water to another ramp on the other side.

The Rage is an “uphill/downhill” water slide and The Eye of the Storm is a once in a lifetime ride, that is only for the most risky thrill seekers. You must be a strong swimmer and at least 48” tall to take on The Eye of the Storm.

The park also features a half-million gallon wave pool.

The Shipwreck Island Play Village, designed with children in mind, contains waterfalls, multiple small slides and water cannons that will keep children entertained for hours. Be prepared to enjoy non-stop action on Adventure Landing’s dry side.

Start your adventure with the Adventure Speedway Go-Karts, where a twisting quarter mile go-kart track with live racing has results posted on a finish-line leader board. The park advertises that “it is as close to NASCAR racing as you get.”

For those looking for something a little calmer, Adventure Golf has two unique 18-hole miniature golf courses designed for fun and relaxation in mind. The two courses challenge all skill levels as they wind through tunnels, over waterfalls and “mountains.”

The multi-level Arcade has over 100 interactive games, and kids especially love Laser Tag, an indoor battle arena with “out of this world” lighting and sound.

For a thrill of a lifetime, the MaxFlight Coast Simulator takes guests on an adventure into the world of virtual reality. This ride has a 360-degree range of motion that allows you to physically feel what can only be imagined in the “real” world. You must be in good health to ride the MaxFlight Simulator, not pregnant and it is not recommended if you suffer from claustrophobia.

The Wacky Worm Roller Coaster is for people of all ages, and the Frog Hopper is an adventure ride for younger children.

Adventure Landing also offers Batting Cages, for hardball, softball, slow or fast pitch. It’s great for individual or team practice.

If you feel hungry after all that fun, there a two themed snack bars that have all kinds of food, snacks and drinks.

Adventure Landing’s Shipwreck Island Waterpark is located at 1944 Beach Boulevard, Jacksonville Beach.

Aquatica – SeaWorld Orlando

Aquatica is Florida’s newest water park which opened in April 2008.

This park offers a new twist in water play with animal interactions, as in the Dolphin Plunge which is the most popular ride in the park.  Two side-by-side enclosed tube slides send you racing through an underwater world that is home to a playful pod of beautiful black-and-white Commerson’s Dolphins.

Try the Taumata Racer if you are looking for the biggest thrill in the park.  This is a high speed competitive mat ride where eight racers rip down a staggeringly steep hill, head first.

Loggerhead Lane – take a load off your feet and hop on a lazy river ride down Loggerhead Lane.  This leisurely raft ride takes you through an underwater world colored by exotic tropical fish.

Tassie’s Twisters is one of the wackiest rides ever imagined. In fact, getting there is part of the fun.  From the Loggerhead Lane lazy river, you’ll make your way to the island in the center and climb to the tower.  Once you get to the top, lightning fast tubes shoot you into a giant bowl, where you’ll spin, and spin, and spin, until you’re finally spun back out into the lazy river. You’ve never seen or felt anything quite like it.

Whanau Way is a quadruple slide tower and is one of the most popular rides in the park.

Walhalla Wave & HooRoo is a is a thrilling ride for the whole family, zooming you through a 6-story maze of twists, turns, and tunnels before you surge back out into daylight.

Walkabout Waters is one of the most talked about places in the park for children. This towering, 60-foot-tall rain fortress is bursting with color, excitement, and adventures waiting to begin.

Cutback Cove & Big Surf Shores – one thing or should we say two things that makes Aquatica so unique are the giant, side-by-side wave pools you won’t find anywhere else in the U.S.  At Cutback Cove, the waves are always rolling, and the action’s always high. At Big Surf Shores, the surf can be high or slow and easy. What kind of wave do you feel like catching today? Two separate pools let you decide.

Roa’s Rapids race you along an action river ride through the white waters of Aquatica.  Get ready for an awesome adventure through a roaring sea of high tides, swirling whirlies, and gushing geysers- all at speeds that leave ordinary river rides eating this one’s wake.

Aquatica is located across the street from SeaWorld Orlando on International Drive and is open year round.

Blizzard Beach at Disney World – Kissimmee

Blizzard Beach is one of Walt Disney World Resort water parks and has a Winter theme.

For a really “cool” time, this 66-acre water adventure park has all the atmosphere of a major ski resort – but it is strictly tropical.

Here, visitors can slip and slid down “snow-capped” mountains amid a snowy scene (a visual effect only – temperatures actually remain a controlled tropical level year-round,).  Waterslides look a lot like slush cascading down the mountainside, and a “ski lift” takes guests to the top of Mt. Gushmore. Disney’s Blizzard Beach.  It contains 21 slides, a wave pool, and a separate area for pre-teens and children.

As you enter the park, the first thing you see is the 90-foot snow-capped mountain, Mt. Gushmore. It is home to the newest waterslide called Downhill Double Dipper, a side-by-side racing water slide that stands 50 feet high and 200 feet long. Riders travel up to 25 mph as they twist and turn before shooting out through a blast of water. 

Other adventures at Mt. Gushmore include slalom courses, toboggan and water sleds and the 120-foot high Summit Plummet, a breathtaking 60-mph plunge straight down to a splash landing at the base of the mountain. 

The Teamboat Springs is the world’s longest family white water raft that ride takes six-passenger rafts down a twisting 1,200 foot series of rushing water falls.

The Toboggan Racer is an 8-lane water slide that sends guests racing over exhilarating dips as they descend the “snowy” slope.

Snow Stormers has three flumes descending from the top of the mountain and following a switchback course through ski-type slalom gates.

Runoff Rapids is an inner tube run, where riders can careen down three different twisting, turning flumes.

Chair Lift is where wooden bench chair lifts carry guests over the craggy face of Mt. Gushmore, from its base at the beach, to its summit.

At Cross Country Creek, you can float on a tube along a lazy river that encircles the entire park. On the way, you will float through a cave where you’ll be splashed with “melting ice” from overhead. “Melt-Away Bay” is a 4,000 square foot (one-acre) wave pool that is nestled against the base of Mt. Gushmore and is constantly fed by “melting snow” waterfalls. Tike’s Peak is a smaller version of Mt. Gushmore, just for children. It includes short water slides, a snow-castle, fountain play area and a squirting ice pond.

The Ski Patrol Training Camp is designed for pre-teens; equipped with inner tube slides and a challenging ice-flow walk along floating icebergs.

Typhoon Lagoon at Disney World – Kissimmee

Typhoon Lagoon is Walt Disney World’s 56-acre water park that includes a man-made watershed mountain and eight twisting, turning water slides and roaring streams. It is also home to a two-and-a-half-acre wave pool, one of the worlds largest (where the waves are as big as six feet and come at you every one and a half minutes)

The park features a water playground for children, a white sand beach and a lazy stream that surrounds the 95-foot Mount May Day.

Mount Mayday, is the 95-foot volcano on top of which is perched a shipwrecked shrimp boat.  At the summit of Mount May Day, guests can choose from several exciting water slides. At the base of the mountain is one of the world’s largest wave pools, complete with a white sandy beach and some of the most powerful artificial waves in Orlando. Also bordering the Lagoon is Castaway Creek, a 2,100-foot river that carries guests leisurely around the perimeter of the park. You can even go snorkelling amid tropical fish and other exotic marine life. Typhoon Lagoon is the main wave pool that is two-and-a-half- acres, and holds 2.75 million gallons of water. There are two sets of waves that are produced in this pool. The first set are gentle bobbing waves that come on a continuous basis, like a normal wave pool. However, every half hour a loud horn will sound and that means that the waves will be changing.  At this point, get ready for waves as large as four feet that come at you with a lot of speed and force, every 90 seconds.

Castaway Creek is the lazy river that travels around the park. Take an inner tube and float along. The river is only 3-4 feet deep and runs on a slow current. As you float down the river on this 2,000-foot journey, you will see banana trees, palm trees, tropical birds and flowers. You will slowly drift through caves, under waterfalls and cool mists, and through tropical forests, and around all the other attractions at the park. If you choose, you can get off Castaway Creek at one of the many stops along the way. Disney’s first ever water coaster, the Crush n’ Gusher is a thrilling experience that defies gravity as powerful jets propel passengers on rafts through every surprise filled turn until they splash land in the pool below.

Three water slides await you at Humunga Kowabunga, which sends you zooming through enclosed tubes at 30 mph to a splashing surprise ending.

Storm Slides is another set of three slides where you will twist and swirl through caves and tunnels.

Mayday Falls is the longest waterslide in the Park that takes guests aboard their own personal inner tube down the side of the mountain in the shadow of the famed shrimp boat. One of the most dramatic attractions at Typhoon Lagoon is Shark Reef, a massive saltwater pool and manmade coral reef, where you can snorkel among swarms of exotic marine life. For those who don’t want to get wet, there is a sunken tanker with portholes that provide stunning views of the underwater activity. Ketchakiddie Creek is Typhoon Lagoon’s play area, especially for children aged two to five. There is a small pool and water slide, fountain and bubblers, interactive water boats, and even a pint-sized white water rafting adventure. An adult must accompany all children. Wet-n-Wild

Wet-n-Wild in Orlando, was voted by the Amusement Business Magazine as America’s “number one water park,” and also honoured by Aquatic’s International as the country’s “first true water park.” 

Wet ‘n Wild is, indeed, the oldest water park in the area, but it is continually adding new rides and is loaded with slides and other attractions for the entire family. It includes a 7-story water slide, various tubes, wave pools, and a Lazy River tube ride around the park and more, including a rather elaborate children’s area. 

Over a dozen thrill rides in all at Wet ‘N Wild (including several multi-person/family rides) will keep even the most discriminating amusement park aficionado entertained. Wet ‘N Wild is also fully staffed with certified lifeguards and all the pools are seasonally heated. 

One of the newest attractions at Wet ‘N Wild is Disco H2O, a multi-million dollar retro slide that showcases the 1970s disco nightlife. Like other bowl rides, this one sends passengers on a four-person cloverleaf “raft” down a slide and into a large funnel where it swishes and spins to the sounds of the hits of the 70s, before splashing out the bottom. Inside the ride are flashing lights and a mirror “disco” ball. Other rides include the Bubba Tub, a four-person raft that takes passengers on a rollicking ride on a triple dip slide. 

The Surge sends five passengers at a time through a never-ending maze of twists and turns, and The Blast sends groups of two through a colourful maze with sound effects and then ends with a final plummet into the water. 

Experience the thrill of The Bomb Bay, where the floor actually falls out from underneath you in a bomb-like capsule, 76-foot high vertical slide. (Get ready to feel your stomach drop to your feet in this one!). 

Thrill seekers will want to try out The Flyer, which begins its’ descent from a vantage point located 40 feet above the park. This exhilarating ride sends passengers racing through 450 feet of banked curves and speedy straightways. 

Another of the park’s most popular rides is the Blue Niagara, where you’ll race, twist and splash through 300 feet of intertwined looping tubes that start at six stores above the park and end with a big splash landing. Wet N Wild also features a winding Lazy River where you can enjoy a relaxing ride as you drift slowly through bubbles to an enchanting spring with a waterfall spilling over a rocky hillside. 

Wet ‘n Wild’s newly upgraded 17,000 square foot Surf Lagoon Wave Pool features some of the most powerful waves found at any water park.

Just for children, Kid’s Park at Wet N Wild, is complete with a giant sandcastle, kiddie pool and specially sized beach chairs. The Bubble Up is a large, multi-collared balloon that is crowned with a mushroom-shaped fountain that sprays water all over the balloon’s surface. Kids can climb to the top (with the aid of a rope) and then bounce down the side of the balloon into a three-foot deep pool below. 

Shipwreck Island Water Park – Panama City 

Shipwreck Island Water Park is the only water park located within 300 miles of Panama City Beach. 

Six acres in size, Shipwreck Island is designed for family entertainment and offers rides, slides, a lazy river and a large wave pool, set amid lush tropical landscaping. 

Rides at Shipwreck Island include thrill rides, family rides and a special “Tadpole Hole” section just for children. 

The Raging Rapids, Tree Top Drop and the huge double slide Pirates Plunge are just a few of the exciting thrill rides at the park. 

The White Knuckle River Ride, Shipwreck Island’s newest ride, takes guests in large, three-to-five passenger inner tubes swishing and swirling down a 660-foot long, six-story high flume in an exciting, white knuckle experience. 

The Ocean Motion Wave Pool at Shipwreck Island has been said to be “the closest thing to the beach without actually being on the beach.” It contains 500,000 gallons of water and is the coolest thing around on a hot summer day. 

Visitors who prefer to take things slow can enjoy floating gently downstream in inner tubes on the Lazy River. 

Kids enjoy the Great Shipwreck and the Zoom Flume and even toddlers can get in on the action with the rides at Tadpole Hole, including the Frog and Pelican Slides.

Shipwreck Island is located at 12001 Middle Beach Road, Panama City Beach, FL 32407Big Kahuna’s Lost Paradise – Destin 

Big Kahuna’s Lost Paradise is a combination waterpark and amusement park that is located in Destin on Florida’s beautiful Emerald Coast. This fun family adventure park covers more than 25 acres and boasts more than 40 water attractions, plus an arcade, roller coaster and miniature golf. Dozens of slides, three rushing rivers, white water tubing, two wave pools, a children’s area and the “biggest man made waterfall in the world,” makes Big Kahuna’s one of the most exciting and diverse waterparks in the state. 

The most impressive attraction at Big Kahuna’s is Tiagra Falls, the largest man-made waterfall in the world, which pumps 30,000 gallons of crystal clear water per minute over 250 feet of massive granite rock. 

Glide your way down the Lazy River through caves and other smaller waterfalls, around beautiful, lush tropical landscaping on your way to Tiagra Falls. 

Big Kahuna’s has it all – three rushing rivers, speed slides, body flumes, white water tubing, two large wave pools, and fun fountains. 

The thrill rides include the Maui Pipeline Speed Slides and Jumanji, a long snake of a ride that twists and spins you all the way to the bottom for a spectacular splash landing. There are four children’s areas at Big Kahuna’s with kid-sized slides and variable depth pools. 

Pleasure Island is a child-sized paradise complete with a pass-thru waterfall, low-depth pools and a wacky octopus that sprays them with water. Youngsters also enjoy the Pirate Ship and Crocodile Flats, which offers twirling slides that plunge them into the basin below where an abandoned ship awaits with a “bubbly surprise.” If you prefer dry land, Big Kahuna’s Adventure Park offers several fun options. Enjoy the thrill of racing at the Grand Prix Raceway or take a turn on the Sky Coaster, a heart-thumping ride that puts you 100 feet into the air. The Pakali Arcade offers a variety of games and Tropical Mini Golf is Big Kahuna’s miniature golf course that boasts 54 challenging holes on three unique courses. Beautifully landscaped with tropical flowers, sculpted trees and several waterfalls, each course winds over wooden bridges, through caves and dense flora.

Big Kahuna’s Lost Paradise is located at 1007 Highway 98 E, Destin, FL 32541

Rapids Water Park

Rapids Water Park is one of South Florida’s premiere family parks.  The Rapids features a full day of fun for the entire family whether you make a splash in the cool blue waves, take a thrilling ride down any of our 29 water slides, or just float around the lazy river. Rapids Water Park has 25 acres of action packed attractions, with something fun for everyone.

Big Thunder is the largest water ride in Florida is at Rapids Water Park in West Palm Beach! Accelerate in a four-person tube to over 20 miles per hour and be propelled high up the walls of the Big Thunder funnel.

Black Thunder – take a spin in the dark inside Black Thunder’s gigantic funnel! Up to four riders may enjoy a fast ride in the pitch black darkness on the Black Thunder raft ride!

Body Blasters – get swept away in a flood of water as you blast through 1,000 feet of darkness. With nothing to hold onto but your swimsuit, you soar through heart-pounding drops and pulse-racing dips and curves.

Pirates Plunge is not for the faint hearted. It’s two speed slides with twists, turns, dips and a 7-story drop. It’s a splash you’ll never forget!

Raging Rapids – twist and turn through the darkness and then burst back into the light to enjoy two sharp drops before splashdown on the Raging Rapids! Up to four riders may enjoy the fast and dark Raging Rapids raft ride!

Riptide Raftin’ is a tube ride that accommodates up to five people.

The Superbowls – two super water slide rides, Baby Blue and Big Red, that spin, twirl and send you plummeting into a heart stopping splash landing!

Tubin’ Tornadoes – dare to ride out the storm in this totally tubular ride. Grab a tube and travel in the dark at the speed of light before plummeting downward in 1,000 feet of tunnel. Thunder through whirlwind twists and turns before plunging into a pool for a cool landing.

Big Surf – catch a wave in this 25,000 square foot wave pool with waves that can go up to six feet.

Criss Crossing – challenge yourself to make it across the floating ice cubes, fruit and alligators at Criss Crossing!

Other rides include Dancing Fountains, Lazy River, Little Splash Hill, Water Flumes, Alligator Alley, Splish Splash Lagoon, Tadpool.

Rapids Water Park is located at 6566 N. Military Trail, Riviera Beach, FL 33407

This article was written by Phil Cornish.  Designer and owner of Florida private rental villa web sites http://www.floridasuntime.com and also http://www.simply-florida.com.