Guest Blogger.

When recounting my bowel-related tales of this holiday to the author of this blog I struggled to remember anything significant happening on my trip to Peru, but now having re-read the poo diary I kept while there I have realised that it is in fact pure filth throughout. For the fourteen days I was in Peru I excreted a total of seventeen movements averaging out at 1.21 Poos per Day (PPD). While most people may not think this is a high average when travelling to a foreign country; compare this to the 0.64 PPD I experienced for the 14 days prior to this trip. Was it the change in diet that caused this? Perhaps a change in the mineral content of the water I was drinking? Whatever the reason for this change, I hope it and the stories I’ve provided are amusing enough for you all to read as they were for me to reminisce about.

My first bowel movement occurred in Manchester airport at 3am. Having abandoned an unflushed and shit-covered cubicle in favour of a cleaner one I was promptly joined in the bathroom by some raucous young men clearly on their way abroad for a “lads” week away. One of them kindly entered the cubicle next to me and took a very speedy, airy dump. Luckily this was the last time I was rudely interrupted in the sweet art of dropping a load for the rest of the trip.

Having felt no need to go on the plane (an unusual occurrence for me) I took my first dump in the country of Peru about 1:15pm in our hotel room right before a trip around the Colonial centre of Lima and immediately blocked the toilet with a large Bristol Stool Scale Type 4 log. After unblocking the toilet, the crisis was not yet finished as, while wiping, I noticed a sign which stated that Peruvian plumbing is not equipped to deal with foreign bodies such as toilet paper and that I would have to put my used paper in a bin next to the toilet. I have purposely avoided countries like Greece for this very reason, but despite my disgust I obliged and placed the used paper in the bin.

The next day we flew to Cusco to explore Incan sites in the city and the surrounding area before the start of the Inca trail. As eventful as the exploring was the story down below was less eventful. The next four days consisted of two single poo days and two double poo days with nothing interesting to tell from my point of view. At the Inca trail briefing however, there was a man discussing the diarrhoea he contracted in the jungle. At this point I did consider getting him to guest blog for this guest blog to provide some interesting material, but I decided against it as he seemed to be mentioning it for health reasons, rather than recreationally.

The local diet in Cusco was more starch-based than I’m used to, consisting of a lot of potatoes and corn. I knew this would catch up with me eventually and it did so on the first day of the Inca trail with this being the only day in Peru without a registered poo. I did however notice the toilet we were expected to use in camp which consisted of a very small fabric tent concealing inside a plastic foldable toilet with a bag in the bottom for the waste. (A picture of this is included below). It wasn’t until the next day I got to sample the delights of this toilet. I initially tried to squat over the toilet rather than sit on it. Unfortunately I very quickly realised that the tent was so small I wouldn’t be able to do this. So I did what anyone would do in such a situation. I changed angle to give myself more room and sat down. Plastic touched skin and I thought this would be the end of the ordeal, business completed, success! I was wrong however. No movement occurred despite my overwhelming need to go. A few minutes past; at this point most people would have given up and walked away feeling defeated. Not me, I clamped my hands down on the toilet and pushed the movement out. My delight at this though was outweighed by the significant wiping I had to do afterwards (during which I also managed to break the toilet roll holder); meaning that I had not emptied my system fully and that the next day a similar ordeal would likely occur.

We stopped for lunch the next day at 10:30am and after eating, my body decided that this is where I would be finishing the job I’d started the day before. The tent was being used at the time so I chose to use the toilet block located at this rest stop. Inside was what is known in my family as a “French toilet” but I believe is more commonly known as a “squat toilet”. This toilet would have seemed quite luxurious if it wasn’t for all the mud covering the white tiles on the floor (I hope it was mud). Squatting over the toilet with my pants down around my ankles I struggled at first to get anything moving so I adjusted into a lower squat where nothing happened still. I adjusted upwards again causing it to come loose. I had perfected the squatting technique six years ago in Tanzania, but now, being a bit out of practise my aim was a little off and the paste that left my body managed to end up all over the back of the toilet. I readjusted and squatted again for round two. This time, with perfect aim, the rest of everything leaving my body landed straight in the hole. I wiped up and would have casually walked away if the flush hadn’t caused the toilet to overflow (a downside of this toilet style), causing me to dash out of the cubicle instead.

The final day of the Inca trail passed almost uneventfully. I felt no need at all to go until we returned to our hotel in Cusco; it was in fact my travelling companion’s bowel movement that was today’s highlight. He managed to completely block the toilet with a beast that could not be budged; even by several flushes of the toilet. This was due to the fact that he had not been for the entirety of the Inca trail (something he revealed to me at a later date). 

Another movement that same day was followed by a three poo day which rounded off my time in Cusco, while the last day of the trip in Lima was a rather unexciting single poo day, followed by another on the first of two travel days. This last Peruvian movement was rather unpleasant as it occurred at about 6:10am after being awoken by a burning sensation in my bowels. To this day I have no idea what caused this; the running theory being that it may have been a delayed, adverse reaction to the Guinea Pig I ate two nights before in Cusco, but with nothing concrete I have put it down to one of life’s many mysteries. The final day of travelling saw me feel absolutely no urge to go to the toilet as I returned home; it then became apparent that the adventure was over and my bowel’s normal service had been resumed.