Iris, a British lady of considerable character and pluck, is on a 23 week overland expedition from Quito in Ecuador to Caracas in Venezuela. After this, she plans to do a 3-month voluntary placement in Ecuador, and then visit Central America for another overland trip between Panama City and Mexico City, ending up with perhaps another 2-month voluntary placement somewhere in South America again. This amazing journey will take Iris one year. Here is an extract from Iris’ journey notebook.

15 of our overland gang left us in Ushaia – not because they had come to the end of their trip but because they wanted to spend more time in Ushaia and so, at their own expense opted to stay on in hotels longer and to fly up to Buenos Aires (BA) in order to spend more time there as well. They would then join up with us in BA when we arrived there after spending five days travelling overland.

The remainder of us, 8 including our drivers/tour leaders, then travelled up to BA in a marathon 3,000 km plus journey, so that most of our time was spend on the road, with only two short visits to a petrified forest and a penguin colony to break the monotony and to give us a bit of extra comfort, we opted to drive further on one particular day so that we could spend a night in a hotel! The rest of the time was spent in rough camps along the way!

The petrified forest was in the middle of nowhere. It was very low key, just a park warden looking after a solitary outpost, guarding relics from some 5 million years ago and which they considered were the remains of an enormous forest full of gigantic trees which had suddenly and catastrophically been buried after several natural disasters and which had miraculously been uncovered again in subsequent earth movements. It comprised some enormous trunks lying on the surface of the ground over an extensive area and looked to this lay person’s eye like the remains from some ancient logging ground where the chain saws had been removed and the trunks just left fragmented where they lay. But they were of course now turned to stone. We arrived in the evening at about 1800 and had about an hour to walk round and look at these relics, but unfortunately none of us could really appreciate them because we had such little information as to why they were considered so significant. There was a museum housing fauna and flora of the region and depicting the course of events over several 100 million years but as everything was in Spanish and only one sparse leaflet in English, it was rather disappointing that we did not have a suitable guide to explain it all to us.

We stayed that night in a really rough camp site, again, in the middle of nowhere, which seemed frequented more by roaming labourers from local roadworks rather than the normal tourist place. We lit up a barbecue and ate good steaks that night, all the food having been purchased in bulk before leaving Ushaia.

The next day we pressed on, without pause to a place called Rio Gallegos, eating our lunch on the truck. We prepared it too in the truck on the move. Because the truck was so empty with just 6 instead of the usual 22 people in the back, it bumped and rattled and lurched over the rough roads perhaps more than it would have done if it had been fully laden, and so some accidents did occur with chopped salad etc, as we attempted to fill baguettes for the lunch-time snack!) But Rio Gallegos, gave us a welcome respite from camping as we stayed in a hotel that night and so had the luxury of beds and en suite showers! We went for a meal soon after booking in, and chose the restaurant on the other side of the road to the hotel, where family groups were eating three course meals at midnight! This is the norm in Argentina, as people tend to go out to eat in the late evening, but not before 2130 and even later!

Our next excursion was to a penguin colony that was situated near a place called Camarones, where we camped for the night close to the beach. We spent just an hour and a half at the colony. Penguins breed there and apparently stay for three years, growing up, before making any sea journeys. The whole area was full of young penguins, some already moulted, others younger and still covered in baby fur and all sorts of others in the in-between state looking as if they had all rescued their coats from moth infested wardrobes! However, although it was great to walk among them (along a designated footpath from which we were not allowed to stray) the penguins ignored this. They were allowed to stray on to the footpath and so we had a few very interesting encounters, as they are inquisitive birds, totally unfazed by humans walking around, and so they would pause and swivel their heads almost through a full 180 degrees to try and focus on us and work out who we were!

These two visits were the sum total of sightseeing on the 5 days it took to travel in our overland truck from Ushaia to BA and so we arrived in that capital city ready for a rest and some comfortable beds!

Next Month, Buenos Aires and Uruguay.

If you’d like to contact Iris, whether to wish her luck with her trip or to ask questions about her itinerary and places visited, I am sure she would like to hear from you. She can be contacted on: irisej2002@yahoo.co.uk

Scotland's first long distance walk, The West Highland Way, is 152km (95 miles) long and links Milngavie (north of Glasgow) to Fort William. It takes walkers along the shores of the country's largest freshwater loch, Loch Lomond, and on passed the foot of its highest mountain, Ben Nevis. What follows is a look how at how two new walkers got on through one particular day in June 2003…

A day’s hard walk along the West Highland Way ran ahead of us. From the Kingshouse Hotel lay 18 miles of military built roads, graveled tracks and rocky footsteps as our trail crossed Rannoch Moor and wound its way onto Tyndrum. Alan and I edged nervously out of the warmth and noticed that the darkly shrouded Buachaille Etive Mór seemed to regard our departure with disdain and scepticism. The reason probably lay in the near horizontal rain that drove hard at our fellow walkers, and us, as we made slow progress over the shoulders of early hills.

The weather used many tactics in its onslaught that day – from rain clouds swooping down from the high peaks of the Glencoe/Grampian mountains through to swirling winds and persistent downpours. Our quality clothing and boots struggled vainly to protect us from the worst but the unremitting nature of the elements soon ground down our resistance! The only respite came and went if the old military road changed direction out of the wind or if a forest plantation shielded our steps.

Strangely, this battering and the never-ending numbers of switchback turnings never caused me to want to stop – enough was never enough! Before this holiday I never knew I had it in me to enjoy such experiences. A large part of this was down to Alan’s brilliant idea of using a luggage transfer service – apologies to the many walking purists, but this choice seemed to liberate our efforts and we were able to enjoy the walk for walking’s sake. Another help was that forest plantations allowed us take breaks when we needed to – previously I would have cursed at these eyesores on Scotland’s landscapes but now the relative shelter allowed us to recharge our batteries and watch the countless stream of north to south human traffic pass us by. In some ways I got so accustomed to the day’s weather patterns that if we caught ourselves enjoying a respite and maybe the sun nearly breaking through, we knew we were probably due to receive a severe soaking within minutes!

And yet despite the weather dominating our day, there was still plenty to notice and marvel at. Rannoch Moor is a patchwork of grasses, wild flowers, granite, gushing streams and rugged settings. The professional road building efforts of Wade and Caulfield lifted our trail across bridges and allowed the downpour to drain off into nearby lochans. Foxglove, rhododendrons, buttercups and daises flourished where the suggestion of clinging on for dear life was the order of the day. Whilst I’m not much of an ornithologist, Alan was more than happy with his day’s bird watching – our tramping disturbed many a skylark and further down the way he was surprised to come across the pitched cheeping of an Oyster Catcher.

Comparatively, the day’s route was far easier going than the mountain walks of Glen Nevis down to Kingshouse and as such we made startlingly good progress to the halfway point at Victoria Bridge. We had covered almost 10 miles in 3 hours or so, which was well above my expected average of 2 miles an hour. Nonetheless the warmth of coffee and a glass of Macallan at the Inveroran Hotel did much to ready us for the struggle of the second half of the day, particularly up the contours of Mam Carraigh. My faltering steps were eventually rewarded with the descent into the Bridge of Orchy, where a sturdy military bridge has stood dominating the scenery for over 200 years. What really caught my eye though was the simplicity of the River Orchy flowing past all manner of colour from its merging with the Allt Kinglass river – the yellow gorse, green pines and red poppies all enhanced the location’s contemplative worth.

Away down the Way our trail crossed back and forth across the train tracks of the West Highland Railway, as we traversed our final valley into Tyndrum. As this valley narrowed considerably and the railway, our path and the main trunk road (A82) all sought the easiest route through it. However the stern munros (little mountains – Beetle) of Beinn Dorain and Beinn Odhar hampered all, and our weary efforts over the last 6.5 miles slowed as the day’s weariness compounded into our legs and another gusting wind met us head on. Even surly Highland Cattle seemed nonplussed at our presence and the fell runners who appeared from nowhere strode past us with an enviable ease.

Finally the last of these 18 miles were left behind and Tyndrum drew us into its warmth and left us to reflect on how and why we had enjoyed such a day.

If you’d like to contact Matt, to ask him any questions or ask advice, please e-mail him on: matt

Some more travelling medical hints and tips for people on the move. If you find yourself under the weather, there is almost always an alternative remedy to finding the local doctor – but if in doubt, seek proper medical advice.

· Sore Throat?? Just mix 1/4 cup of vinegar with 1/4 cup of honey and take 1 tablespoon six times a day. The vinegar kills the bacteria.

· Cure urinary tract infections with alka-seltzer. Just dissolve two tablets in a glass of water and drink it at the onset of the symptoms. Alka-Seltzer begins eliminating urinary tract infections almost instantly even though the product was never been advertised for this use.

· Hard trekking? Got toenail fungus? Get rid of unsightly toenail fungus by soaking your toes in Listerine mouthwash. The powerful antiseptic leaves your toenails looking healthy again.

U. S. Soldiers Home, Washington: during a century of travel (well 78 years!) both in and out of service I have travelled to over 150 countries (I count both North and South Dakota as countries) and for some reason have jotted signs and happenings that I thought funny at the time (and now wonder why). So here is the perfect opportunity to share some of my anecdotes.

Indian newspaper had an ad for a men’s tailor: “Clothier to the male ego.”

One traveller to save weight and space carries only three black socks. Not three pair of black socks but three individual black socks and washes one sock out each night. (Ok so it is me!)

Instead of buying new clothes and shoes to travel some people wear their old clothes they have broken in and when they get dirty take them to one of the many reasonable tailors in India, Penang, Thailand etc and have duplicated or design their own travel clothes. In India I had them make trousers with many pockets, hidden pockets, a strap in the back so trousers could be hung on a nail. I was in Safari phase then so had shirts made out of same material again with lots of pockets.

I met an Australian that became native fifteen minutes after arrival in India. He had flimsy white cotton trousers and shirt made and shaved his head like a monk. I wore a diaper and carried a begging bowl. We both said we did not know the other. I used to joke that Air India in economy did not serve food. They gave you a begging bowl and you had to go to First class and beg for food.

One guy took a suit he liked but had a cigarette hole in it to Hong Kong to have duplicated. They did right down to the cigarette hole. I lie a lot.

One time, just before I got off the plane at Tokyo airport, I ripped the back of my pants and my rear end was exposed. I did not have an extra pair of trousers with me in the plane and I did not want to go through passport control etc with my rear exposed for fear they would not let me in the country so although it was a very hot sweltering day I put on my raincoat to hide my rear end. I got some strange looks but was not stopped. I since always carry an extra pair of trousers in the cabin of the plane with me. I think I had had the trousers made in Hong Kong and if they use Chinese thread they rip easily. Take American thread with you if having clothes made in Hong Kong. And hope they use it. I had shoes made in Hong Kong and walking down the street the soles fell off. When I went to a cobbler he told me the soles had been glued on and the heat undid the glue.

Digressing somewhat, on a trip to South Africa I was made an honorary member of both MOTH and COMRADES clubs. Both are veteran’s organizations. The MOTH club in Johannesburg is near train station. MOTH stands for Military Order of Tin Hats, which started in World War I. Smaller clubs of MOTHs are called Shellholes and their commander (no matter what his name) is always called Old Bill.

In India I was made an honorary Sikh. A Sikh Lt Colonel (a lawyer) in the Indian Army introduced me to the five Ks of Sikhdom. A Sikh and I think most of them have Singh for part of their name meaning lion has five marks of a Sikh all beginning with letter K. The five Kikars. Kish, long uncut hair that they never cut worn under a turban. Kanka, the wooden small comb. Kackkor, long modest boxer like shorts. Kara, the steel bracelet and Karpan, a small ceremonial sword. As my hair was short I guess I was only 4/5 of an honorary Sikh.

A Captain in the Indian Army brought five yards of material, which is what it takes for a turban, and wound it very tight around my head so it would not come undone before I got back to the States. Although Sikhs can and do wear turbans in the Army, he did not wear one. The Sikhs seemed to be on the same wavelength as me especially the ones in the military and they were a good source of information for me.

I asked if Indians would be insulted if they saw me wearing a turban in Amritsar (I don’t usually go native.) I was told they would not even notice and would not be insulted. It was easier to wear than to carry back to my hotel. There were few places selling beer but I found one and the bar tender told me he had seen me wearing the turban on the street and had prevented others from throwing stones at me. Joking! He said I looked very handsome in the turban. He knew how to get a tip.

No matter where you ask a rickshaw driver in Amritsar to take you they take you to the Golden Temple. Actually I wanted to go to a circus I spotted. The showgirls in the circus were completely covered in what looked like winter underwear: long johns. The circus did not have much, but it had a rhinoceros. He did not do much. It cost me $3.60 for the cloth for the turban. I don’t know where it is now.

I went to visit Indiri Ghandi’s (former leader of India) home, now a museum. She was Nehru’s daughter and no relation to Mahatma Ghandi. She had married a man named Ghandi. This was in Delhi. Indiri Ghandi had sent in troops to quell a riot at Golden Temple in Amritsar and a Sikh (not me) assassinated her as she was walking in the garden of her home. He was one of her disloyal guards. There were signs in the garden as to what you could not do such as no spitting. At the Golden Temple in Amritsar Sikhs immerse themselves in the water moat surrounding the temple. There were many memorial plaques to soldiers at the Golden Temple complex such as “In memory of those brave soldiers killed in action in 1965.” The Poona Horse Regiment with deep reverence and loving gratitude from the Bengal Snappers Bengal Engineer Group Centre Boorhee 1978. Lt Col H. S. Samedhi and all ranks.

Next month, Mac discusses Hong Kong.

If you would like to contact Mac, he can be e-mailed on: macsan400@yahoo.com