Day 3 – Quito

The hotel's proud boast of WiFi technology proved something of a fabrication, however, as it also had no working electricity that point was largely irrelevant. Luckily for us the hot water was gas fired – but judging by the state of the boiler the last engineer to fire it, died just after Ecuador declared independence in 1830.

Invigorating, is what you call a cold show at that time of the morning, but I didn't know the Spanish for invigorating so used more flowery terms in my explanation to the owner.

The day before leaving England Ciara and I diligently called our bank to ensure they knew we were going to South America so as not to get a repeat of the situation we had in China where our cards were stopped. So imagine my surprise and unbridled joy when we went to withdraw some money but informed that our cards had been blocked from overseas transactions. We initially thought it may be just one bank so spent the next five hours searching all over Quito for ATMs (the banks were closed by now – of course) with the same result.

With no other options I found an internet cafe resigned to calling the bank in England. It was then that I discovered there was another power cut. Losses cut, we decided to have a drink and think about it.

Suitably reinvigorated and with Quito on the electricity grid we called home and, amid grovelling apologies from the bank, got our cards working. Rather foolishly we then decided to test the limits on all six of them, and thus, we were left sitting – Tony Montana-like – with just over $1200 in cash in 'The most dangerous place on the planet/continent' – delete as applicable.

Late that evening the hotel owner assured me he had been on the case and that I would have hot water. I have. Boiling hot water. Water so hot it strips skin if you stand under it. After 25 seconds it's freezing again.

Day 2 – Quito

Despite not getting to bed until 2am I was up at 7 ready to look around Quito, which if you believe everything you read, sits somewhere between being 'The most dangerous place on the planet' to just 'The most dangerous place on the Continent'.

In the morning, with the sun beating down on us, we visited the beautifully colonial Old Town and (as chance would have it) I met the Mayor of Quito inside The Cathedral. Cynics may suggest he was a confidence trickster, but he really was the Mayor – he told me, then asked me for some money – what mayor wouldn't? I asked why he had sold his necklace to Mr T, then he left us alone. If he was a con-man he really was convincing.

Quito days are currently swinging from extreme heat in the morning to torrential rainstorms in the afternoon, apparently you can set your watch by the change, but as I don't have a watch I got drenched and dived for cover in the National Museum of Ecuador. I had read 'If you only visit one museum in Quito – make it this one' and after three hours I realised why; because if all the other museums were anywhere near as deathly dull as this one the undertakers of Quito would be sweeping tourists off the streets.

My first night was spent in a bar watching a football team from Quito (Liga) play the Brazilian team Flumenese in the South American Champions League Cup Final, every bar was packed and the atmosphere on the streets was superb. I was slightly deflated to learn that this was the second leg and that Liga already held a 5-1 advantage. Game over, surely?

What I, and every Liga fan, hadn't bargained on was two Flumenese goals in the first 20 minutes, a red card for Liga after 25 minutes and their goalkeeper inexplicably choosing to get drunk before kick-off – at least that is how he played (could he be available for England?). Flumenese went three up soon after half-time, before in the 80th minute Liga managed their first shot on target as their striker went on-on-one and defty lobbed the ball over the Flumenese keeper. Unfortunately, it was only lobbed over him by about 12 inches so the keeper easily caught it and belted it back into the Liga half leaving everyone in the bar close to tears and the striker considering the plethora of deaths threats that would undoubtedly be coming his way. Amazingly, four minutes into injury time Flumenese hit a post for the second time, and even more amazingly one minute later, Liga were crowned Champions of South America by getting belted 3-0.

Cue mass hysteria on the streets, car horns being tested all night and no sleep for me.

Day 1 – London to Quito

Here is my list of things to do prior to the start of my South America trip:

1. Reconfirm flights

– check

2. Start taking Malaria tablets

– check

3. Arrange first night's accommodation in Quito

– check

4. Get really, really, really drunk, fall down a staircase and smash my head open on a wall via a glass lampshade

– check

Unfortunately I only managed three out of four on the above list. All was not lost, however, as it turned out I did not have to bother reconfirming my flights. I probably could have done without the trip to casualty but managed to do that two nights before we were due to fly – much to Ciara's delight.

We flew with Delta Airlines who seem to run a unique check-in procedure. First, you check-in at home, print out your boarding pass and bring that to the airport, then you are directed back to the check-in queue to get a REAL (she said it in capitals) boarding pass. I enquired if there was any need for us to have bothered doing anything at home, but was met with a very harsh stare, although that could have been the plaster on my forehead.

The food was good, the films were either great (Sin Nombre), good (State of Play), or absolute toss (Terminator 4).

The first 10 hours flew by (bu-dum-tish) however the flight was broken by a three hour lay over in Atlanta, where we were required to join a 500 strong queue of people to pass through immigration and security This took an excruciating 45 minutes after which we were directed around a corner to another queue to pass through the same immigration and security before we could... wait for it... get back on the plane.

After being aggravated by an 18 stone security guard for over an hour constantly barking;

'Move along please, sir' – "I am moving, I understand how a queue works, I'm not Egyptian" I needed a drink.

After being charged $9 for a drink, I needed another drink but quickly realised the folly of this plan. I would like to report that at least I didn't leave a tip but it seems they even take that in advance these days.

Tired and hungry I ordered a Burrito and watched in amazement as the girl used a Tortilla so big it could have been used as a parachute for a labrador (if one were ever needed) and loaded it with enough chicken, cheese, beans and rice to a supply a small army (of labradors perhaps?) or one American.

Although the second part of the flight seemed to have some kind of drinking restriction in place – I didn't see a crew member for nearly two hours – I finally arrived at the hotel 26 or so hours after leaving home.