I was picked up by Miguel and his colleague in a regular car, rather than the little vans usually used for this sort of thing. We picked up another guy going to the airport and I heard alarm bells going off in my head.

I was ready to jump out of the car, in case these three guys took me somewhere other than the airport, but it turned out I was being paranoid and I was delivered safely in the hands of card sellers selling postcards of the Nazca figures.

The Nazca lines are, like Machu Picchu, another phenomenon that has stayed hidden until well in the 20th century, 1929 to be precise, and it was only in 1940 that Maria Reiche started studying them. The amazing thing is that they can only be viewed properly from the air, and unless you believe the theory that they had to do with extraterrestrials, it is highly unlikely that the Nazca people actually observed them from the air themselves. Still, they are perfectly in symmetry even though they are huge.

It's not clear what they represent (star constellations?), or if they were used in any way (a road?) and even how they were made so perfectly without access to a bird's eye perspective. It's another great mystery. But they had to mean something, as it's unlikely that they are just doodles on a grand scale...

Miguel had warned me not to have any breakfast beforehand and I even took a motion sickness pill, but the flight was still gut-churningly awful. To see the images, the pilot banked left then right, so people at both sides could see them. The horizon turned 90 degrees and my brain was wobbling around in my head like an eggyolk.

It was quite hard to see the figures (the postcards are better) and I missed one or two. But all the same, it was pretty impressive. I was glad to be back on the ground though, and got plunked into another car back to the hotel. Here I lay on the bed recuperating and I would probably still be there if I didn't have to check out at 12.

In addition to feeling a bit queasy from the flight, it had gotten very, very hot and I didn't really feel like food. But I went to El Porton and had garlic bread and a pizza, after which I felt slightly better. Turns out they gave me a fake 5 sole coin which I couldn't get rid off. Bastards. Their pizza was way overpriced as well.

I then booked a bus ticket for tonight, and splashed out on a 'cama' instead of 'semi-cama' because I didn't think I could handle another busride like yesterday. Little did I know...

I read my book on the discovery of Machu Picchu, which is proving to be very interesting. I went to have dinner (just a sandwich - the people at the restaurant weren't happy) and suddenly I realised I left my document folder with driver's license, travellers cheques, plane tickets etc in my room! I rushed back to the hotel and luckily they had found it, but I was really angry with myself!

I bought an icecream and a big dog kept following me eying up thew icecream. He was looking at me as if to say: 'I look big and scary, why don't you give me some?' But I refused, I needed some calorie comfort after the day I'd had. I kept thinking 'I'll be so glad to get out of Nazca' but even that proved to be easier said than done...

I sat on the square and very soon Anita came to site next to me with her younger friend. To be honest I thought she was drunk, but it seems she's always that lively. Anyway, she was really great and we covered subjects from the standard 'where are you from' and 'why are you travelling alone' to the more saucy, such as tips on how to seduce Keiron into having kids with me ('if you're already 29, you should hurry you know'), Anita not having had sex for a year (she's divorced and split up with her new partner about a year ago), how she would become my maid in England ('If your flat is really that tiny, I'll sleep on the couch'), or if I couldn't send her a new English boyfriend (I said the English were stereotypically not very romantic, and wouldn't she mind, she said something like: 'I don't want caliente, I want a rich one')

She was pretty hilarious and I found my gloomy mood lifting with every outburst of laughter. Her friend was obviously embarrassed, but I thought she was wonderful. Her black (or should I say African-Peruana?) friend Genoveva joined us as well, and she just smiled at Anita's sometimes outrageous comments. The fair in the background played 'altijd is Kortjakje ziek' or the Spanish version of it.

When I got to the hotel, I spoke to Juan who wanted to pracxtise his English and was none too happy when the receptionist told him to do some chores. He also asked how old I was, looked shocked at my saying I was 29, then slightly redeemed himself by saying I looked younger. But only slightly, huh, as if 29 is that old...

I walked to the bus station where I was told the bus was two hours late for no particular reason. Peru's lack of organisation skills is turning out to be a bit of a pain in the bum. Compared to this, Bolivia runs like Swiss clockwork!