Andrew Dare, who is based in Peru, returned to some of the worst-affected areas. His report shows how bad the situation is.

Before I do, I’m well aware that while my focus on here has been spreading the word about my girlfriend, now safely rescued, there is also a big need for aid and a human cost to this all.

While, thankfully, the death toll has been relatively low, the devastation will be felt for months, even years, to come. More than 23,000 people have been left homeless, while over 37,000 people in the country have been affected by the floods. 80% of homes in the area have been destroyed. More than 16,000 hectares of crops have been damaged, many bridges have been destroyed and some areas of Cusco have no received any aid or help whatsoever.

To that end, Living in Peru has a list of places you can donate to the aid effort. Please take a moment to visit and make a donation.

So, what of both the aid effort and the rescue effort itself? Let’s start with the airlift and then move onto aid.

It was clear on Sunday that there would be a major operation needed to rescue all those trapped in and around Machu Picchu. The railway had been washed away and it would take several weeks to repair. With no way in or out of the village, at the very least, supplies would be needed.

It was also clear that, with just a few helicopters seconded to the area – initially two but rising to 11 – not to mention the devastation to the surrounding area, the effort fell some way short of what was required initially. Even if this was a localised problem, it wouldn’t have hurt to request help from neighbouring countries.

Yet we know from S that, despite reports of airlifts as early as Tuesday, the evacuation didn’t properly start until Thursday. Until then, only one American helicopter made an appearance in Machu Picchu.

The Americans did send helicopters to help evacuate their citizens, as is to be expected. Only after then did Peru manage to get use of their helicopters.

Organising an airlift is probably the easiest thing the  Peruvian government had to do. Phone reception was still working, they knew where the majority of the tourists were stranded. Yet nothing was properly communicated until late Wednesday / early Thursday.

So, here’s the first question. Why did it take so long to organise the airlift? And why was no help request from other countries or outside agencies?

(To this you can add a third question. The tourists may be safely out, but has the Peruvian government left thousands of locals in the surrounding valleys? If so, why? It’s now two days since the tourists were airlifted out?)

And now the aid itself. With so much devastation, with or without tourists, it was clear significant aid was needed. The government insisted it could manage, so made no requests to international aid agencies, the local Red Cross, or other countries.

In essence, the government control every aspect of the rescue and aid effort. If they don’t request any help, none can be given. Yet a week later, other than the tourists and the locals in Machu Picchu, the aid effort appears slow in the wider region of Cusco. This is worrying. The foreign press will now have turned their attention away from Cusco.

The area around Cusco has been designated an emergency zone, not a disaster zone. A disaster zone would have been more likely to bring international aid. An emergency zone meant the government could take care of it themselves? Why? It’s clear that foreign aid would have been useful here.

There are a number of theories you could put here, although it’s worth stressing there’s no suggestion of any wrongdoing on the part of the Peruvian government. But it does raise questions.

One theory (and apologies, as I’m moving of facts here to speculation) concerns the tourist trade. Peru is currently being sold as a booming economy, albeit one that relies heavily on tourism. It would make life uncomfortable for the authorities if a growing country with a strong economy couldn’t quickly look after its own citizens. They may also be worried about the effect abroad – hence the quick(ish) evacuation of the tourists, and the slowdown when it comes to aid for its own citizens.

The second theory is a little more complicated, and requires a little better understanding of Peruvian politics (and Spanish) than I currently have, but roughly concerns to the politicization of aid efforts.

This news report suggests that an official for the National Programme of Food Aid in Peru (PRONAA) used the agency to promote her own candidacy for upcoming elections.

Now it seems that locals in Cusco, Puno and Aprimac have complained about aid to their regions after the floods being politicised. Meanwhile, the death toll continues to rise.

As a quick end tangent to this, try Googling around the Peru earthquake of 2007, particularly around Pisco. And see how much you can find about progress in rebuilding the area after the quake.

At the end of the day, I’m obviously very grateful that the authorities airlifted S and others out of Machu Picchu, and that when help did finally arrive it was efficient. But it would also be terrible if the government left it just at saving foreign tourists.

There are people in Cusco whose livelihoods and homes have been completely destroyed by these floods. These are also the people who need help the most. They’re counting on their government not to let them down. Let’s hope expectation isn’t where their needs finish.

Yesterday was one of those days of hope but not knowing. S started off the day being told to head for a briefing with her tour company and being told that they would get flown out. Probably. Possibly.

The 29-and-under group, including S, were told they would be last out. But still they queued up, not knowing if they’d get out. S had already paid for a hotel room for another night but it was soon clear that heading back to the hotel would see her lose her place in the queue. The wait went on. At 10am they started queuing. At about 3.30pm, they got to the holding pen for the flights, a train carriage.

At least things were moving. As S told the Living In Peru website: ” Today was good but yesterday was chaotic.” After confusion of not knowing who or when anybody would be flown out, at least there was progress.

But there was still frustrating. As S and her group made their way to the front of the queue, and then to the landing area, they were told that, due to adverse weather, there were to be no more flights out for the day. Having stood and seen the helicopter land, they weren’t allowed to be on it when it took off. The military took names and said they would be first out the next day.

So frustration as they trudged back to the train carriage. Having been so near, S would have to spend another night. She couldn’t head back to the hotel because she would lose her place in the queue. Frustrated and upset, I got a call around half ten, UK time. But it was so good to hear her voice (punctuated by random shouts of Argentine tourists playing football to keep occupied). And while it was frustrating, the end was in sight.

What followed was, I can only imagine, a very uncomfortable night in an old train carriage. Morning came, and there were still more problems. As the army began processing the tourists again, there was a rush forward to get to the front of the queue. The list counted for nothing – the army had lost it overnight.

But S and her group stood their ground and, after a brief discussion, were herded onto the helicopter and away from the now-isolated tourist town. It had taken six days but they were finally out.

The phone call from S when she arrived in Cusco was one of the most relieving conversations I’ve ever had. I knew she would be evacuated but I just wanted to hear it from her voice. Two days earlier I’d nearly broken down in tears when she text to say the electricity had gone and she’d have to switch off her phone, meaning no further contact. Today, I nearly cried again, but for completely different reasons.

After contacting me and her parents, S had, I’d imagine, a very long shower. It was the first time she’d had access to hot water in six days.

At the time of writing, S is currently in Lima trying to secure a flight to Rio. She was due to fly out earlier today to start a second tour, taking in Brazil, Argentina and Chile. She’s not been put off by her experiences and wants to see the rest of South America. She’s a tough cookie inside, and I love her for that.

She had originally tried to change her flight but TMA Airlines refused to do refunds and wanted to charge her £800 for changing. She, understandably, baulked at this. She’s currently searching around for another flight. Thankfully Isabel and Nathan from Living In Peru have been able to help – they have been utterly fantastic as reporters and for help and advice. Peru should be proud to have journalists like them.

Still, these are logistical issues and hopefully will be sorted soon. The main thing to me is S is safe and no longer stranded. She won’t be home for a while, but I’ll be waiting, ready to give her a big hug when she returns. I am just so thankful she is safe.

But she leaves behind an area devastated by floods and mudslides, and one that will take much help and rebuilding. If you want to get a picture of what the Cusco region is like, Andrew Dare has written a moving piece on the situation.

I’ll blog more about Peru, some further thoughts on the situation in general, and a consideration of the social media aspects. In the meantime, I can head to bed at a decent hour tonight without worrying about whether S will be stuck for another day without any knowledge of when she’ll escape. For that, I’m thankful.

Thanks to everybody who has offered kind words of support and helped at various point. It has been appreciated more than you could possibly imagine.

UPDATE: S has just rung me – after several phone calls she has managed to secure a flight to Rio. She’ll arrive a few hours after she planned to, but her holiday is back on track. She has memories and stories that will last a lifetime (apparently people were sleeping on the luggage racks on the train carriage last night).

Thanks once more to Isabel and Nathan. I can now head to sleep for tonight and sleep easier than I have done all week. I’ll continue to blog about Peru though. S may be out, but I don’t want the rebuilding effort to be forgotten.

There are certain moments when your stomach lurches. One of them is when your girlfriend, a seasoned traveller, sends a text saying she’s had to be evacuated from her hotel and she’s scared. This from somebody who has been halfway around the globe and takes most things in her stride.

I rarely put any kind of personal stuff on this blog because, well, I just choose not to. But, equally, I’ve decided to blog about the flooding and mudslides in the Cusco area of Peru (home to Machu Picchu) in case, like me, you’re one of the friends, family, or relatives of the 2000 or so tourists stranded in the area and are just looking for information and happen to stumble across this. Not knowing is one of the worst feelings ever

I don’t speak Spanish, so have a bit of a job following what’s going on over there, but I managed to get ten minutes on the phone with my girlfriend earlier and have a slightly better idea of what’s going on (and please bear in mind my knowledge of Peruvian geography is next to abysmal so I may get some things wrong here).

Cusco has had heavy rain over the past few days, leading to swollen rivers and flooding. These, in turn, have caused landslides. Between the floods and the landslides, they’ve managed to take out the train line into Machu Picchu and surrounding roads. The only way in or out of the area is currently via the Inca Trail, which I’m told takes six days to walk.

The group of tourists S was with were due to leave at 4pm local time on Sunday, only to be told there was no train due to landslides, and were sent back to the village and given hotel rooms for the night.

S’s room was close to the river and she could hear the water rushing outside all night. At 5am the group was told to leave the hotel and move to a new one, and to ring their friends and family to let them know they were all right, in case they’d seen reports on the news.

The group were moved to a hotel higher up and away from the river. They were lucky enough to get rooms. Other tourists are still arriving, via the Inca trail, only to find there is no way out. People are sleeping in inns, train stations, and wherever they can get a space.

Later in the day, S went down to look at the hotel they’d been evacuated from. There was a large crack in the road outside, due to the flood water.

If this all sounds very dramatic, things have calmed down as people wait to find a way out of Machu Picchu. Ironically, the weather is currently gorgeous. If it weren’t for the floods and the damage, you’d never have known there was a problem with the area.

At the moment it seems as if everybody is safe, albeit a little frustrated at being stuck and perhaps a little uncomfortable if they’re sleeping in the train station. But safe, nonetheless. The question is how long they’ll be stuck there for.

The government has declared a state of emergency in Cusco and is making plans to send in helicopters and airlift the 2,000 or so stuck near the Inca citadel out of the area, although S says it’s not clear how long this will take and when it will start.

For the meantime, all the stranded can do is sit and wait, but at least they’re safe. Which is the main thing.

Judging by other reports, the floods have devastated the crops and agriculture of the surrounding area and around 300 families have been displaced. It’s probable Cusco will be declared a disaster zone. The tourist groups will get out sooner rather than later, but the clean up will take some time, while the impact will be felt for even longer.

[There's another perspective from somebody caught up the other side here. Thanks also to everybody who hunted down links to what was going on after I initially Tweeted about it. There are more images of the floods here.]

UPDATE:  Haven’t heard from S yet, but, judging by Twitter and other reports, the evacuation operation is underway and it’ll take about 20 hours to get everybody out via helicopter (or, I suspect, long, if what S told me last night). My Spanish isn’t good, but huge thanks to Chris White, who has been translating for me today.

Also, there’s a very good first-person blog from a CBS reporter, which gives you another idea of what things are like on the ground.