Jun 2008

We arrive at the bus station in Potosi early so that we can get some nibbles etc for the journey. The boys are sent off to purchase the journey staples. They return and we load onto the bus. I ask for my bag of cheesy wotsits and tuck in, I'm definitely addicted to the colourings. I'm about 3/4 way through, when Vikki asks for her bag, oops Danny didn't get her one!! She's furious, quite rightly so, as her cold turkey/wostit sets in...The boys have managed to spend 90 Bolivianos (6 pounds = vv expensive in Bolivia, 3 main courses at least!), on hardly any food! Moral of the story: don't send boys to do anything, they're crap.

As per usual the bus journey is fraught with problems, we stop and it appears we have to change tyres. This is done with us all still on the bus. That'll be easy to jack up? I don't think one bus journey in Bolivia goes faultlessly. We arrive in La Paz in the early hours of the morning, it's breathtaking even through the sweaty wet window. La Paz is in a crater so the city center is in the bottom, and the city sort of spreads upwards around it, favela like. It's very dramatic, so exactly like the Bolivians. There is also a brilliant snow peaked mountain on the horizon. La Paz is the highest capital in the world at over 4000m. A lot of newly arrived people get altitude sickness from flying in, and arriving at this altitude. We're now totally acclimatised, so are all fine. We've booked into a hostel called Loki Backpackers which calls its self a 'party hostel' and proves itself to be so after the week I spend here. We're all in the same dorm room again which were happy about plus... the bunk beds are well made, the mattresses are comfy AND we have duvets! Nice plump, fluffy, snugly duvets and clean brushed cotton sheets. I want to stay in bed forever and try at least once in the next week. Loki hostel is on a steep street, so although I don't get altitude sickness, I do get breathless walking up and down.

NB: Very sadly on our second night in La Paz an Australian boy whom the boys play pool with in our hostel bar, falls off a first floor balcony (central atrium of hostel), breaks his neck and dies. It happens at about 2am while we're out and about, so we only hear the news the next morning. It's the most awful thing to happen and we're all in a state of shock for a few days after. It's just so sad and so final. We all support each other and feel very lucky to be alive. I miss everyone so much at home, but its nice to be with such super new friends too. Danny, Vikki, Clare, Sean and Tommy are brilliant and we all have a good cry. We also look after Sam his friend who's been left behind, I hope he'll be able to cope with it OK. He's only 23 and obviously still in shock too. It's a sad time and one to reflect on how lucky I am to be doing this trip. I skype home and have a nice chat with the family and with Ben G, who's there by chance. We will never know exactly what happened on the night. It's presumed that he fell, but no one saw what happened. Sam had already gone to bed. We also know that the hostel cleared up the body immediately, before they called the police. The police had to be paid off. We learn all this from Jonno (see below). This disaster could have happened anywhere, but I feel very alone, and very fragile, so far away from home and in this crazy city. We're certainly not in good old blighty.

La Paz becomes a bit of a hedonist blur for me after this. We'd been so well behaved in the salt plains...no boozing at all. So La Paz is a bit crazy, especially after the death. I still cant believe it happened. There is a festival in the street on the Sunday after we arrive so we head to this and enjoy watching the spectacle and drinking beer all day. I'm so lucky to have met this group of people and it's so nice to feel safe and loved with them all. We've been dying for a good curry so in the evening we head out for a yummy cuzza! Chicken Tikka Masala ish.

Our dorm room has an en-suite bathroom attached. This is rather luxi, however it pongs a bit and the shower is never hot, or it is for about two hours a day, and these differ every day, hopeless. I go on a quest for a hot shower. I hate cold showers, I just cant do them. I'd rather go without. Finally after days of luke warmness or no shower at all, I find a downstairs one that's always hot. Gosh I miss my bathroom, I look forward to a bath so much. I haven't had one since Brendan's in Buenos Aires. I prefer showers anyway but its pain sometimes to shave legs etc standing. I long for a glorious deep hot soak in delicious aromatherapy oils.

There are rather a lot of casualties floating around Loki. We meet Jonno from Australia in the first few days. He's been in La Paz for about two months. He's stuck here and has got a job at Loki. How he keeps this up is anybodies guess. Hes out every night and never seems to sleep. He can still string a sentence together and is actually quite cool (great legs?!)...but also a warning to us all...'that could happen to you', if you don't watch out...

We enter the Loki pub quiz one night and come second! Would have come first if I'd been believed that the smurfs were created in Belgium and not Switzerland. I eat my way through about twenty BLT's at the hostel (less than a pound each!), this is the first hostel Ive stayed at where you have a tab. So everything you order at the bar is put on the tab. Rather scary when I get to the end of the week and tot it all up. We all go out together one night and end up at a club called Orange, a good boogie and ridiculous photo session. I end up at a hideous joint called Club 36 far too often, falling in with 'the wrong crowd' (I think I instigate it though, in fact I am on occasion; 'the wrong crowd').

It's decided that we will attempt to mountain bike down the world most dangerous road. This means an early night and no boozing. The other girls chicken out so it's me, Danny, Sean and Tommy. We head off early for breakfast arriving at the cafe at 7am, we order breakfast in plenty of time (40 mins), then in typical Bolivian fashion nothing arrives and we have to leave. In the last minute my breakfast arrives and so does the boys, but with crucial bits like bread missing to theirs...so they cant even make a takeaway. We leave the money on the table but don't pay for the orange juices which didn't arrive. We are then collected from the cafe by Gravity Assisted and walk out to the bus, the waitress comes to find us on the bus demanding money. We explain to her that we couldn't eat everything because it was late and there was no oj. She drops her head scuttles off again. The ride is one of the best things Ive ever done, and how I didn't fly off into the abyss, ie off the edge, is a mystery. But suffice to say I was very careful and did it slowly. Beat Danny though! ...You start at 4500m and end up at 1200m. From freezing high mountain to jungle, its brilliant and scary. The road is only about 1.5 cars width and the drop off the edge is instant death (well after a cool free fall). Along the way you see crosses marking the spots where unlucky cyclists met their creator. It's madness really, but the views are staggering. Some parts of the road are in line with streams which cascade over the road and shower you while you pass beneath. The first 40km are on tarmac, then the road turns into gravel. Ive never really ridden a mountain bike, but the suspension and breaks are incredible. I'm careful no to break too hard for fear of flying over the handlebars. I'm devastated that I didn't bring my camera (warned against it). Once at the bottom we enjoy a nice lunch and a hot shower. Then its back into the van and we drive up the road we've just ridden down, much more scary than being on the bike. We buy some celebratory beers gawp at the ridiculous geography of this road (www.gravitybolivia.com). On route home and in the dark, Danny wees out the window whilst the bus is driving.

Peru is coming up next so we head to Lake Titicaca and Copacobana. We get the bus which has no tread on its tyres (see photo on facebook).

The HAIR REPORT: very flat and lanky, mostly covered in hat.

Ram Jam, Orange, Mongos, Club 36...
San Pedro Prison (riot, so no go)
Wild Rover. Not as good as Loki.
The laundry not being clean again.
Jenga at 7am in Club 36.
Broken nose.
Champions League. Man U victory.
The pizza that's so big it has to go sideways through the door.
The hole I fell in.
Did I ever say that my Chinese sign on my necklace means 'long life'?...
ALEX! (a new one, this will make M chuckle)
The Aussie twats.

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So its back to Potosi. Which has some mines that we want to see. We're now all acclimatised with the altitude so don't feel so out of breath as before. We spend a little extra cash getting a better bus, which we're all glad about. We're booked into the Kola Den which is where we tried to get in last time, but couldn't. We have a six bed dorm room to ourselves, lovely. Potosi is very hustle bustle and is full of school kids and things happening, I like it. It's cold but the sun is shining and eveything looks crisp.

We haven't cooked so far in Bolivia. Theres no point. It's mega cheap and with six of us its just a faff to cook anything decent, kitchen tranklements are crap. I'm surviving on empanadas for breakfast, which are like Cornish pastie things baked or fried, with meat (questionable?) or cheese, there's a variation in each country (I've mentioned them before). They generally spill their contents over you, and wreck your clean jeans or dribble on your gortex shoes. Lunch is either brunch or burger or sanger or big pack of giant cheesy wotsits and oreo cookies and Coke. Then dinner a hotch potch of what we dream about eating, like Chinese! mmm, but just not quite right in Bolivia (dirty dirty Chinese). Oh my god my diet is shite. I long for Brazilian acai and fruit juices. I long for Thiagos flat and Thiago. Oh hell I long for my friends and my family and a big bag of spinach with poached salmon and salsa verde.

Speaking of clean clothes...not that anything is really clean, it's decided that after the salt flats everything desperately needs to go to the laundry. My whole backpack is filthy so I take it to be washed. This results in Vikki and I waring a ridiculous outfit for the day (only clean cloths we have)... we look like Armenian refugees. Then we go to collect the 'clean clothes', I swear mine aren't that much cleaner. Cold water wash with no powder I assume. My socks pack flat again so thats the main thing sorted.

We book the mine tour the following day. The mine tour is possibly the most depressing day out Ive ever encountered. So upsetting. We pile into a mini bus from the hostel which takes us to the mining part of Potosi and for us to be dressed in our mining outfits. A waterproof rubberish suit, hard hat and head torch. We're also made to buy some bandannas to go over our mouths. Then off to the mining shop to get some dynamite. We also buy a bag of coca leaves which we stuff into out cheeks (you chew the leaves with some catalyst, in our case quinoa ash)...we look like chip monks. After a while my cheek and teeth go a bit numb! Ha it works. Um it tastes fowl though and I have green teeth and fowl juice in my mouth, sexy. We get back on the bus and head to the mine entrance. The mine is situated in the mountain that overlooks Potosi. Apparently the mountain is like a giant Swiss cheese it has so many tunnels and holes in it. It used to deliver silver back in the days of the conquistadors. It's actually very important historically. The silver from Potosi made Europe wealthy. Now there is no silver left, but they still mine tin and other minerals from the mine. I feel like Ive stepped back in to the dark ages. Those scenes from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. We walk into the mine tunnel and I'm immediately overcome by the shit in the air (arsenic, asbestos?), which the head torch highlights. The bandannas are really going to help us, not breathe this shit in (?). I spend then next two hours crawling on hands and knees in dirty, dark, stinky tunnels. I see young men lugging ten ton broken waggons on fucked rails, it's horrible and I wow never to moan about work again. It's crazy that they work in conditions like this. I hate it and an immensely glad to get the fuck out of there. Once back in the fresh air, we play with the dynamite and make bombs. Bolivia hey, health and safety...

We meet a juggler and his girlfriend on the tour, and its with them we head out later that evening, for a dirty Chinese. Us girls also head off for a wander round the markets. Its the end of the day so we miss most of the hustle and bustle. But I still manage to find disgusting goose necks and lungs? Also a cow face, which has had its skin taken off, but the eyes and wet black nose remain intact. I tried taking a photo but was threatened by a fierce Boliviano woman. Then in a skip outside the market on the way to the Chinese, cow horns with skully, brainy bits still attached thrown in and in a pile. YUK! I think cheese empanadas from now on. God who'd eat meat?! Thers no neat vaccum packed stuff in Bolivia.

We're all rather knackered from all the activities we've been up to so its decided to have a DVD day at the hostel. We watch Rainman which is so brilliant, Id forgotten. Then later on in the evening we watch The Pianist. Only the resident night watchman behind reception, who we've named trench foot, his feet smell like poo (honestly). Hes a moody git and reeks of booze as well, revolting. So when he keeps trying to shut down our film watching, which is peaceful and disturbing no one. We block the door so he cant get in! Such bad behavior! but reasonable under the circumstances. The next day we head to La Paz, we're all very excited...

Hair report: mostly flat with fly away tendencies, smidgen oily on top.

Our phrases:
There's no 'I' in team amigo.
You never see an old man eating a twix.
You can never have enough hats.
Theres no town like your own, but when in Rome...

Tommy's lost pillow, it falls off the top bunk onto me every night.
What this old thing?!
The hair ball in the shower, preposterously large.

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