South America, te quiero

Final post this side of the world. Am safely in Lima airport, with only about 8 whole hours to while away, so a final round up of last day in Mancora, and, that´s it. For this continent anyway. Think Africa is going to be less amenable internet wise so will have to revert to keeping a proper handwritten diary and write up whenever possible.
Last night in Mancora was pretty successful. Rich, Shane, John, Becky and Will came to join us in the bar at Loki (Conor having fallen prey to a raw burger) and we tucked into the requisite vodka and coke over various games. I triumphed at Scrabble (degree not entirely useless) and John lost fairly spectacularly at giant Jenga, paying up his forfeit of stripping off and jumping into the pool (not as lame as it sounds as is actually banned) admirably. Hung out til closing time, and then Clara and I went for a promenade along the beach and a Cosmopolitan each. They came with maraschino cherries which I´m fairly sure were not in the SATC original, but were pretty tasty. A civilised veil will be drawn over the rest of the evening, what goes on tour, etc, other than to say that I was pleased to see that my wing womaning abilities have not waned through lack of use of late.....
Last day in Mancora began with my only real meltdown of the holiday. My credit card stopped working, and as my replacement debit card is currently languishing in London, it was pretty urgent that HSBC pulled finger out of a** and a. stopped making up reasons as to why it wasn´t working and b. fixed it. Instead, half an hour later and on to my 3rd assistant from the ´Centre of Excellence`, I was for some reason embroiled in an arduous attempt to extend the limit on my card. Threw phone at floor and then burst into tears of rage once had found sympathetic audience (Conor, Eimear and Clara). Financial rescue came in the form of the lovely Conor and was able to book my coach etc, so once again, huge thanks to that young man. Bit of a legend, that one.
Stress over, I spent one last luxuriously hot afternoon by and in the pool at Loki with the team, soaking up the rays and the relaxed sensation of being surrounded by people doing nothing more than enjoy themselves with whatever idle pursuit struck their fancy. Think that´s why I love hostels so much - that sense of freedom in the air.

So, some of the most memorable parts of South America:

Lapa steps at 3am
Samba dancing in Rio
Iguazu Falls with the Laconic Frenchman
Alice getting a round of applause for her legs in BA (which we all basked in collectively)
Iguana Skin and the ubiquitous Long Island Ice Tea cocktails in Milhouse
Sitting on Fordey´s shoulders (on Lee´s shoulders) on the lagoon in the depths of the salt flats, wind driving into my face, uncontrollable grin on my face
Death of barbie
That´s what she said
Afternoons tucked into the jeep, Ylonah snoozing beside me on the back seat as Victor plays his Peruvian pan pipes at full volume
The discovery that post pan pipes there are some relatively decent 80´s tunes on that CD
The boys playing at soaking the small Bolivian boys with rocks by a stream in a small village in Bolivia, much to their excitement and hysteria (both small and big boys)
First night at Wild Rover in La Paz
Power cuts at the Blue House
Flip flop v Thong, Pudding v Dessert, Supper v Dinner (etc)
Cusco nights: Mama Afrikkkka, Jarrad´s stratospherically good form, and the sequence of photos that followed (legs over head)
Hangover juice in the market in Cusco
Christmas day: whole thing, especially bellinis by the pool, steak and jacket potatoes, sparklers, and Marco...POLO

Hasta luego, South America....