'Salvador, if you follow the electrical cables and the smell of Inca Kola

then you'll see your daddy again'

Last night we went to Kin Taro, a Japanese Restaurant, memorable for its tiny portions and no-shoes policy upstairs. As usual I left hungry and was stuffing Panetton in front of the telly when we got home. Don't get me wrong the food is good, but there's not much of it.

The other day we had a trip down memory lane.

When we were first in Cusco, I used to collect vegetarian food for Esther from a tiny restaurant just down the hill. We became friends with the owner Celia and when we opened Moni, she was first choice t be our cook. Unfortunately in the meantime, she and her delicious food, had disappeared.

On a trip to get some pictures framed we passed a vegetarian restaurant and something told us t might be Celia's. We decided to walk back past the front of the restaurant.

Sure enough a sign outside read 'Mama Celia'.

Inside we asked if she was there and Celia herself emerged from the kitchen batting flies as she came. With the loveliest smile imaginable and the best teeth in Cusco, Celia was soon telling us how she had been living in Lima for the past two years.

Now she was going to leave the restaurant to her daughter and wanted to know if we had any jobs going at Moni. Celia is far to much of an earth mother to fit in at the cafe, but we think she might be a good supplier of cakes and bread. I think the flies must have followed us, because when we told Ali of our encounter, she said she would prefer Celia to cook in the cafe, where she can keep an eye on her.

We have also had another brain wave for the cafe, the creation of the 'Cusco Crisis Box', a glass display of emergency supplies for tourists to buy.

Tampax, Toilet Roll and Mars Bars will soon be on sale in the Moni.

That's if they ever finish the glass cabinet we are having made, we are currently grappling with another missed 3pm deadline.

I am writing this in the midst of an incredible thunderstorm, it has just started hailing too and the hail is coming straight through the roof onto my head and keyboard.

It was sunny five minutes ago so I've only got a T-shirt to protect me and my shoes are downstairs in the hallway.

And now I am trapped up here until it stops, it is so noisy I can't hear Radio 5, thunder is much louder at this altitude, so if you don't like thunderstorms you're in trouble.

Maybe I need a 'Cusco Crisis Box' of my own, with a pair of shoes and a coat in.

I think I have now found all of the leaks in the roof, most are above my head, it looks like I've wet myself, I think some repairs are in order before we get back from Lima as the weather is destined to get worse rather than better.

With headset in hand and about to use Skype to ring Esther, I've been saved, Mum saw my pleading face from the kitchen and brought my shoes up for me.

Anyone who thinks the tropics is all about palm trees, sea & sand, should come to Cusco, which at times is more British than Britain.