Apr 2008

We were woken up at 4:30am to get the 6am train from Ollantaytambo station up to Machu Picchu. A bus took us up the last bit - a steep winding road to the entrance. I got my passport stamped with a crap Machu Picchustamp at the tourist office and we entered the site.

The ruins were set in a stunning location on the top of a mountain and when we arrived the clouds surrounded us like a blanket, which gave the whole place a mystical (or MIST-ical) ambiance. The cloud soon cleared up in the sunshine and we could see the Inca city in its full glory. Not much information is known about Machu Picchu, as it was never found by the Spanish. Because it was so well hidden, the Spanish invaders didn't have a chance to destroy it like they did all the other Inca sites. Apart from the roofs and plaster of the buildings decaying, and the occasional looters, the city is almost intact. It's not known why the city was abandoned but it is thought that the city was home to the upper classes, maybe even the royal family, and they fled the city (which was still under construction) to go to somewhere with more protection from the Spanish. The city was eventually rediscovered in 1911, over 300 years after it was abandoned.

We were taken on a tour of the city by a very boring woman and half way through the tour we had the opportunity to leave the group and climb Huayna Picchu mountain to the north. We decided to escape the soul-destroying guide and climb the steep incline to get an aerial view of the ruins. The climb was a hard 40 mins up wonky steps and by the time we got to the top we were tired and sweaty but the view was amazing. The city had been built in the shape of a condor from this location, although it looked more like a fish, but there is still 30% of the city that is still hidden in the undergrowth, yet to be restored.

There was rain coming in from the east which created a rainbow. We took some photos and decided to head back to the tourist town to get something to eat and a few drinks. After some beers and wine with Simon (who had started his birthday celebrations already) we got the Peru Rail train back to Ollantaytambo. We had started to drift off to sleep when a strange thing occurred. Jungle noises (birds and monkeys, not drum 'n' bass) started over the speakers and a man dressed in weird traditional costume started running around the carriage. No one was sure if they had fallen asleep and started dreaming as we all looked at each other with puzzled expressions. As a stroke of luck, Simon had his face mask on him for the fancy dress night that evening and he put it on and started dancing with the strange man. As if this wasn't bizarre enough, the stewards then performed a fashion show down the aisles. It took some balls to do this in front of a train full of drunk travellers, who heckled them pretty badly. You wouldn't get this on the London Underground.

By the time we got back to Cusco it was 10:30pm and we had sobered up quite a lot. A lot of people went straight to bed but the hardcore among us got dressed up in our fancy dress and went out into town. I was 'Monkey Boy' with my monkey hat, tail, banana belt and pet monkey. Dee was 'D-Bitch', a tattooed Tank Girl type character that actually looked a lot like Christina Aguilera. The guides from the past few days came out as well and we had a really good night, which may have involved some bad breakdancing by some of the group. We got back to the hotel in time for breakfast at 7am. The next day Vernon asked who signed the breakfast register 'twat face book.com'. We couldn't remember, but I think it was Simon. Carl came back later that morning, pissing himself laughing, having walked back from a local girls house dressed as The Hulk and attracting some strange looks by the locals.

So it was finally here, the trip we were both looking forward to but dreading. We were not doing the 'classic Inca trail' but walking an old Inca trail along the sacred valley otherwise known as the 'Pumahuanca trail'. The difference between the two is this trail is steeper, higher, longer, but more importantly passes through a few local communities that are known by the government to be some of the poorest people in Peru and we, through the tour agency, help to improve their daily lives.

Our group would be accompanied by 3 guides, a pack of llamas to carry equipment, a pack of horses to carry our clothing bags, a kitchen team and ground set up team. We of course carry our own daypacks and water, but even the feathery 10kg they weighed felt like another person strapped to our backs.

So day 1, starting off easy (not including trying to pack for this trip, a small 20l bag and trying to fit gear in for 4 days, all seasons). Early start and we head off to Sacsayhuaman Inca ruins. This is some of the finest Incan build work as it was a temple.

Although it was only 600yr ago that the Incas had their short reign before being wiped out by the Spanish, they managed to create an empire that ran from Peru to northern Chile with Cusco its rich centre. They created cities hidden in the hardest to reach places, modified geography so steep slopes could be farmed, understood the seasons and all without the invention of the wheel or any written language.

Sacsayhuaman Inca ruins is some of their finest build work, so much so, that when the Spanish arrived, they thought something so magnificent must have been made by the Devil and proceeded to destroy it.

It was clear to see the decorative bricks representing the 3 layers or lives they believed in and fascinating to imagine how they achieved it. The lower level or underworld represented by the snake, this life by the puma and the next life or upper world by the condor. One rock at the temple is estimated to weight 130 tonnes, moved from the quarry to its resting place by log/stone rollers, pure man force and a little prayer to Pachamama.

We then took a short drive to the next ruins, Pisac, located on a steep hillside. At the top of the town it was clear to see an old Incan cemetery. Bodies were put into a small cave in the hillside, in the fetal position, as they believed the way we enter life should be the way we exit. They are also buried with personal possessions, their pets and food as they believed in the afterlife and its thought you'd be hungry when you woke up again!

We then headed to the community of Quisharani at the start of our trail and the start of the sacred valley. We stayed in the local school field and had dinner in their classroom. The fact that we were in a classroom didn't go to waste as that evening there was a lesson in Quechuan, the traditional language spoken in this area. For some of us it was hard to understand the Spanish so that you could start to learn the Quechuan - it wasn't the most successful lesson, but funny to hear our western tongue trying to make completely foreign sounds.

This was day one, we knew it was a no walking day, they didn't explain that just walking round the ruins at that altitude would leave us gasping for air, we both fell asleep scared of the next day.

Day two was a 5.30am start. We were handed hot cocoa tea in the tent by the porters and on accepting mine I noted an ice layer on the outside of the tent. It was freezing; I had been all night, despite my thermals, clothes, sleeping bag and llama blanket. I emerged from the tent looking like the Michelin man; I couldn't fit anymore clothes on, including hats and gloves. The villagers just had ponchos on, with sandals - I got looks of 'crazy gringo lady'. Straight after a hearty brekkie we went to work on one of the community projects - helping to finish off a toilet block that could be used in future by other trekkers to bring in revenue. We were in charge of making and applying plaster, sanding doors and painting. Things were done traditionally so off came my shoes and socks, as I had surprisingly volunteered to help make the plaster. Soil, grass, water with cactus in as a thickener, and cement was mixed underfoot. It was cold, muddy and the stones in the soil made it painful but it was somewhat satisfying - in a childlike making a mess way. A couple of hours later and we were ready to start the walking, my thighs were aching, I was out of breath and my feet were sore already. Cue; bad mood, why have I paid money for this, I want a hot shower, bed, chocolate etc...

Within minutes I was loving it, maybe it was the fantastic views of the valley, exercise endorphins, or the huge ball of cocoa leaves I had stuck in my cheek, and either way this was going to be good. It has been mentioned already in the blog how Ollie and I are natural hikers, athletically built and keen for anything physically exerting. However, we were both in the leading group, keeping pace and enjoying it. Yeah, we had faces like beetroots and Ollie was so sweaty it looked like he'd been swimming - we were having fun. Each small hill climbed resulted in a smug celebration and amazing views, a little piece of chocolate (purely for energy) and more cocoa leaves (to keep us going). The 5 hours flew by and before long we had trekked our first day.

Arriving in camp mid afternoon, the Cuncani community welcomed us. We (that’s a lie, some of the group, we slept!) played football with the locals and we went and had afternoon tea with one of the locals. This was fascinating; the houses have one room, are stone built, and have a mud floor. Not one person didn't have to duck as we entered. Measuring approx 4m square, this acted as kitchen, bedroom, living room and also farm, as the guinea pigs eaten on special occasions live with the people in their house (I counted 7 sitting in a huddle just behind me). They keep up to one years food supply also in the same room in case the crops fail and really, apart from a few cooking pots and blankets, little else. The cooker is an open fire in one corner of the room but there is no chimney only looser thatch over that area. It was difficult to see each other through the smoke and dim light but the friendliness of the owners made it all worthwhile. We had hot cocoa tea and freshly boiled potatoes from their field as we chatted exploring the ins and outs of their daily life.

Day three, slowly waking with the realisation of where I was, I hesitated moving expecting after exercise stiffness, but surprised and relieved when I felt no pain. My legs, feet, in fact my whole body was ready for another day. Good job as this was our hardest treck, 8hr walk, mainly all uphill, reaching our highest point of 4800m. It wasn't easy but at our steady pace by no means hard and before long we were stood at the top clutching the rock we had picked up from the bottom of the mountain that morning. This is a Quechua tradition, you carry a rock from the bottom and make a small pile at the top as a tribute to Pachamama. The rock pile is first blessed with alcohol (pisco) then we all share a sip to thank Pachamama and to celebrate reaching today’s goal.

Some people were having a really hard time at this point, struggling with their breathing and sickness, two had already dropped out so we felt proud of our small personal achievement. We also knew from this point onwards it was flat or downhill all the way as we looked down the valley at our final destination just under the horizon.

The last camp was a bush camp, situated in the basin of a forested valley. Walking to it became quite amusing as a bull took a dislike to us. He proceeded to scare everyone to death as he started to charge, then after 3 steps decided he couldn't be bothered and just stood looking at 24 people trying to run with daypacks and jelly legs while trying to avoid cow pats.

The scenery was amazing and took everyones breath away as we sat down for our last group meal prepared by the kitchen team. We were offered hot sangria and sipped on the warm, sweet liquid as we stared in awe at the huge mountain and what we'd achieved.

Day four, no pain and a sense of excitement, only 4 hours more valley walk and we were done. The scenery had turned from rocky barren views to rich thick almost tropical forest. 37km and we had made it, intact, not one blister (thank you boots), no aches just good times and great memories.

We went to the nearby town of Urubamba to celebrate. If a house has a red flower or red sign outside it means you can go in, sit in the kitchen and buy Chicha off them. So we did. It’s a traditional drink made from sweet corn that is sprouted, boiled and fermented for two days. Yeah, you're right, it tastes rank, but the one mixed with strawberry is tolerable and there’s something nice about sharing homebrew with the house owners.

Short drive to the Inca town of Ollantaytambo to see the ruins and the amazing way they carved the opposite mountain to look like one of their gods. A good meal and celebratory wine in a local restaurant before heading to a hostel for my first shower in a week of trekking and a (warm) bed. We were both snoring by 6pm ready for our middle of the night start to Machu Picchu.

On the way to Cusco we stopped to see some pre-Inca ruins which was an example of advanced architecture and brickwork. The burial ground was a good place to practice our human pyramid and we managed a 4 level pyramid without breaking any bones.

We arrived at Cusco and Mac told us to look out for pickpockets when we went out for a couple of drinks that night. In the centre of Cusco were a lot of people begging, selling and trying to get us to go to their restaurant/club. We weren't pickpocketed, but the next day we found out that John and Nina got lost on the way back to the hotel and ended up in a dead end alleyway where they were mugged by a couple of guys with rocks in their hands.

The following day we walked around the Inca capital looking for a fancy dress costume for 'D-Bitch' - Dee's alter ego. The city has lots of old buildings and the main square is cobbled, a bit like Bath. The restaurants are touristy but nice and not too expensive. There was a carnival on which was a protest against the government raising the price of coca leaves. The costumes looked cool and by the end of the parade, we could see the dancers absolutely knackered and sweating. We ate at a Mexican that night and Tania ordered the local delicacy, roast guinea pig, and was surprised to get it posing on the plate with its teeth bared and one front paw raised.

We were starting the Inca trail the next day so we packed our essentials and went to bed early. We wouldn't see the truck for the next few days and we were given a list of things to pack in our supplied duffle bags, like warm clothes, sleeping bag, sun cream, chocolate, pain killers etc.

So after leaving the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca we crossed the border into Peru, first stop Puno. This small town is the main port to the famous Lake Titicaca floating island. The Uros people (Quechan speaking ) have lived on the lake for centuries, living off the lakes birds and fish and building moveable floating islands from the plentiful reeds that grow in the lake. Around five families live on one island, made by weaving the reeds into multiple layers. As the lower layers rot new layers are placed down. Taking a small boat, we headed to one of the islands, we were greeted by the women in traditional dress who helped us get our feet on the spongy, unsteady surface. We chatted about their life and culture and the men showed us how they build boats, houses and anything else they need from the reeds. Their pet heron made a comical visit as we sat and munched the raw sweet roots of the reeds. They have solar power for lights and a separate island for 'toilet time'. Dunno if I’d like their way of life, but sure like their ethics. If someone on the island is lazy or does wrong they just cut the piece of island off with his house on it and send him floating!!! Always remember - build your house in the middle of the island!

Off to the Inca capital of Peru - Cusco. Can't wait to try Inca Cola - only this and Iron Bru outsells Coca-Cola in its respective countries - must be good.

The drive to Copacabana took us past Lake Titicaca which is the highest navigable lake in the world and it is so huge it looks like an ocean. The views were amazing and the landscape was lush and green, with Inca terraces patterning the hillsides. We crossed a part of the lake in a little boat taxi while the truck was taken across on a bigger ferry.

Copacabana has a beach on the lake and quite a hippy community. The shops sold a lot of handmade jewelry, bags and hats, but Dee managed to resist. We bumped into a couple of familiar faces from our first leg, Shorty and Jemma from the original Team Oz, so we had a couple of cocktails with them before they had to leave by bus to their next destination.

Dee wanted to sort out the trucks medical kit that evening, so I went out for some food and a few drinks, which soon turned into a lot of drinks. All the bars in Copacabana close at 11pm, which was probably a good thing seeing as I had spent the last of the Bolivianos on booze. Carl, who hadn't drunk for 10 days, took his usual drunken position of slumped over asleep in the corner, while I managed to find some stickers and stick them all over Simon's back without him noticing. Unfortunately I had spent the money which I was supposed to buy Dee’s dinner with, so she wasn't happy with me coming back late, drunk and broke. She refused to talk to me for the next day when we crossed the border into Peru to see the floating islands of Uros.

After seeing the bustle of Potosi we didn't know what to expect when we got to La Paz. We were playing cards and drinking wine on the truck when we got to the outskirts of the city, but the game was quickly abandoned as we all looked out of the window in amazement of the chaos that was outside. Nearly every vehicle on the road was a minibus packed full of people like sardines. Every street was lined with market stalls selling everything from fake designer knickers to fake DIY equipment. La Paz is the highest capital city in the world and is located on top of a mountain in a basin, so when we got up to the lip we could see spectacular views over the whole city.

Like Potosi, every street had a common theme of shops. Our hotel was on 'fancy dress avenue' and the shops sold brilliant home made costumes, handy for our fancy dress party when we finish the Inca trail. Our hotel was really cool and had doorways and windows painted into the walls with spanishy sea views through them. Unfortunately we were on the top floor and there were no stairs and our bags are heavy, but the views from our room were cool. We could look out of our window for ages at the activity just on our road, but we decided to brave the crowds and go for a little walk. There were very few tourists here and La Paz felt like a proper South American city with very little western influence. Unlike Buenos Aires, we felt like we stood out like a sore thumb. The people didn't hassle us though, they just waited patiently while we looked at the strange things they were selling on their little stalls.

That night we had a group meal to say goodbye to 2 of the travellers and then we got a taxi to a couple of clubs. The clubs we went to were quite westernised, but we had a good time. We danced till late in a club called Mungo's. There was a 6.3 foot gay guy who fancied me and he kept following me around, but I think Rikki was encouraging him. After me and Simon had a dance off, I needed some fresh air and we left the club at 4am.

The next day we didn't have any plans so we walked around town. It was Sunday, so most of the shops were closed, but there was still quite a lot of activity and market stalls open. Our hotel was near the witches market where you can buy dried llama fetuses to put in the foundations of your new house for good luck. There was also dried frogs, cats and plenty of love potions and potions to make you rich. We walked around for a while and Dee bought some new sun glasses for £1.50.

There is a famous downhill mountain biking road just out of La Paz that is known as Death Road that has taken between 200-300 lives A YEAR. It was the most dangerous road in the world but there is now another road which goes in the same direction which is a lot safer, so all the cars go that way. The old road is still there and now it is just for mountain bikes. A few people on the truck have been looking forward to this for a long time but the only company which we are insured with (the only one to have never had any deaths) was fully booked. This means we had to book a dodgy company with dodgy bikes and, worryingly, we weren't insured for any accidents.

The next day the dodgy company picked us up from our hotel at 7am. We had an included breakfast at a nearby restaurant (toast! For the first time in 2 months!) and set off up the side of the La Paz basin. After an hours drive we were at the top of a tarmac road. We rode for a couple of hours before we were at death road, but the road was downhill all the way and on this surface I was going faster than I ever had been on a bike before. Dee was left behind right at the back going at a speed a snail would call slow. She arrived at the bottom about 30 mins after everyone else.

There was 30 mins or so uphill and when we got to the start of the death road, Dee was in two minds whether to continue or not. We were up in the clouds still and it was misty. She decided to continue, and when the mist cleared we saw why the road was called the most dangerous in the world. There was a sheer drop on one side of the road to the rainforest beneath. It was like the beginning of Romancing the Stone when they are on that really dangerous road. Some of the scenery was breathtaking and, because I was with Dee the snail, I had plenty of time to get out my camera and take some photos of the spectacular scenery and waterfalls. After an hour or so of going at Dees pace (I could have walked quicker) the groups split into three - fast, medium and slow. I was itching to go quicker so I joined the fast group and Dee stayed in the slow group. I sped off and within 10 mins I had come off the road twice, luckily the side nearest the wall, not the sheer drop. The surface was loose and slippery and I learned that you can only break on the straights; otherwise the corners could be treacherous.

After another hour or so of manic downhill biking through waterfalls and past graves on the road where people have died, we stopped for lunch. As we were resting and admiring the scenery there was a loud explosion. Everyone jumped round to see that the front tyre on my bike had exploded! I was lucky I wasn't on a dangerous corner. This was why we aren't insured with this company. 2 other people came off their bikes but weren't seriously injured. Dee fell off once but I imagine it was because she was going so slow she'd started to go backwards. The guides who were with her just laughed as she had to pick herself up and get back on her bike. The tour company did treat us well though, and after we had finished at 2pm (3pm for Dee) we were taken to a hotel where we could use their pool and eat dinner. The return journey took 3 hours because we had to go back up on the new road and our minibus was struggling on the steep incline. We got back at 8:15, 13 hours after we set off, having started at 5000m, down to 330m and 65km later. All for only £22, including a free t-shirt and photos on a CD. We left La Paz the next morning to cross over into Peru. Bolivia has definitely been an experience and is much more how I expected the whole of South America to be.

So after the amazing salt flats we headed to the highest city in the world, Potosi standing at 4070m. Potosi is an old colonial mining town, in its hey day it was an extremely rich town, in fact the name Potosi in Spanish means something very, very rich. Silver was its claim to fame.

It is still an active mining town - although now tin, lead, copper and lead are mined. It is a great town of narrow bustling streets perched on the side of a huge mountain.

I love Bolivia, each place has a real atmosphere and the people are really friendly. Most of all I love the female traditional outfits, the huge flared skirts and bowler hat combinations give off an essence of their culture. What I don't understand is their dislike of monopolies; it seems they thrive on competition. You wander through town and will hit jeans shop street, next road- plumbers tools street, next road - photocopy street. One road, 10 shops trying to sell the same thing- when was the last time you photocopied anything? I need to know, what are they photocopying?? That evening we visited restaurant street and karaoke bar street!

It was the last Friday of the month when we were their so local schools had majorette parades and the locals blessed 'Pachamama' (mother earth).

Although we had heard the horrible shocking stories of mine tours, mostly poor working conditions and child labour, we felt the need to see it for ourselves. Setting off mid afternoon we learned the mountain had been mined since 1545 and now had over 5000 separate entrances. It was a cooperative, each family owned a little bit of Mountain and the mining occupation passed down the family line. 12 was the youngest age legally allowed to work in the mine. Due to poor conditions, poisonous gases and dust, life expectancy is 15yrs from when they start mining. Extremely upsetting if you do the maths. This year, mining’s in a recession - so the families are struggling.

They work sunrise - sunset in the mines, often climbing several hundred metres down into small crevices, chewing cocoa leaves (the natural plant that is used to make cocaine) to stop them needing food and giving them energy to work. No machines, no power, no scaffolding to support the tunnels, this is basic mining. Ropes and pulley, wheelbarrow and man power gets the ore out. Hand made holes for dynamite creates new tunnels. They average 3 deaths a month and one accident a day from tunnels collapsing.

We visited miners street before heading into the mine, to stock up on gifts for them. Dynamite is really expensive at the moment for them to buy due to the recession but they can't work without it. We also bought cocoa leaves and 96% alcohol that they drink all day and use to bless Pachamama. Yes, we did just buy the dynamite off the street and the alcohol takes hairs 'off' your chest. Cocoa leaves are dried, you put a few in your mouth and chew them into a ball, a catalyst is added in the centre and they can last an hour - before you spit them out and start again. Imagine chewing raw green tea with gone-off bitter fish and your getting there. Dunno how it’s meant to make you feel, sick and hungry, looking like a hamster with a cheek pouch is the affect I got!

Hard hat on, torch in situ we head off in the mine. Hard, hard work trying to get to even the first miners, altitude, dust and pure western figures made scuttling down the tiny holes and avoiding the sheer drops difficult. A father and two teenage sons, working hard, greeted us, mining zinc, they were extremely grateful for their gifts. Further down, similar stories of families working hard. The tunnels got wetter and smaller, the climbs harder and the air more difficult to breathe. We were all glad to get out, a harsh insight into the world of Potosi miners.

How did the day end?- dynamite! We blew up a raw chicken and pumpkin outside the mine. Everyone was shocked at the thud in the chest the explosion gave and the enormity of the noise. Most people in the group suddenly became bilingual, offering French expletives, eg, fu@@ing hell!

We arrived at our hotel in Uyuni which was in the same building as the famous 'Minuteman Pizza' which we had been told numerous times is the best pizza in South America. I ate there that night and the pizza was pretty good, but the llama pieces were a bit tough. Afterwards we went for a drink at a bar called 'The Extreme Fun Pub', which had a drinking challenge where the best times were displayed on the wall. The challenge was to drink 10 drinks in the quickest time possible. 3 of the drinks contained a shot of 96% alcohol, one drink was in a special cup that mixed a bottle of beer with shots of gin, vodka, whiskey, rum and tequila as it was poured into the mouth. One of the aussies, Tim, agreed to do it before he had seen what it involved, and he had a big crowd around him cheering before he had a chance to back out. He did really well and managed a time of 2 minutes 20 seconds and his name on the wall. (The record is 32 seconds.)

Somehow, the next day he felt fine and we got in some jeeps to head off to the salt flats. I'd seen a lot of photos from the salt flats and the best ones involve some cool perspective trickery because of the stark, white, unchanging landscape. We borrowed a toy dinosaur from the hotel to include in some pictures. First of all we visited a salt factory to see a woman and her young daughter packing salt into bags for less than £3 a day. Then went onto the salt flats to see the salt mines, which were basically men shoveling salt into the back of trucks. The sun was very bright and it reflects off the salt so we had to make sure we put sun cream on the inside of our noses to stop them getting burned.

We had a quick lunch at a hotel made out of blocks of salt and then drove for ages until we couldn't see anything except sky and salt. Here everyone got out and started coming up with imaginative perspective photos. It was great fun collaborating with people to try and get the angles right and some of the photos looked amazing. The whole landscape was so surreal it was hard for our eyes to adjust to the lack of objects to judge distance. It was like being in a dream or on an alien planet.

On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a local train graveyard for sunset and more pictures. I'd been looking forward to the salt flats for a long time and this was definitely one of my favourite days so far on the trip.

The border to Bolivia lies on the edge of San Pedro so within minutes we were in the 'no mans land'. This was when the landscape started to get bleaker, colder and much, much higher.

Heeding the warnings of 'altitude sickness' most of us had stopped the booze and were doubling our water intake (6lits day). If you’re at home, work or anywhere else other than on a bus with 23 other (good bladder capacity) people on the flattest, no tree/bolder/loo shelter landscape I have ever seen, would be fine. I tried my best to match others loo stops but 1hr 10 was the longest I lasted, with considerable pain. People were using my wee stops like a sun dial- 'wow, half an hour passed already'. I tried in vain to look for hiding places - trust me - they do not exist.

But, despite the embarrassment, I didn't even get a headache. That day we reached the highest pass of 5020m (from 2436m) and it was surprising how the altitude gets you. People were acting drunk and giddy at first, then most got headaches. Just sitting was exhausting - you had to try to remember to breathe regularly. We stopped for lunch at the high part, it took twice as long to set up the kitchen as walking around was like having drank a bottle of whiskey (don't be righteous and pretend you don't know that spinning head/room feeling). Actually in all seriousness a couple of the guys were really ill, vomiting and disorientated, equating the feeling to severe flu with a knife sticking in the head. We'd passed the high point so we just had to carry on bringing them down, actually only 500m down, most symptoms had settled.

So why drive through this hostile and frankly, knackering piece of earth?! Its stunning. Driving through a flat valley you are surrounded by giant snow capped mountains, mineralised water gathers in massive pools to form huge powerfully colourful lakes - Laguna Verde (turquoise), Laguna Blanca (clear hot spring) and Laguna Colorado (blood red). Groups of flamingos (yes, pink) gather round the waters edge, intermittently taking flight overhead. So what if the colourful lakes are severely poisonous due to arsenic - its the same with all bright things in nature, the prettier the deadlier. Looks good on photos though.

That night, half way through the Altiplano we stayed in a small non tourist settlement on Villimar. Mainly an agricultural farm of quinoa, most villagers were intrigued by western visitors. After dinner the local head teacher brought round some students to sing and play music for us – actually, by the looks of them, he abruptly woke them up and made them play! But we ended up feeding them homemade chips and cheese, which their smiles told us they enjoyed. And the fact they asked for a doggie bag of any other dinner leftovers.

One of the head villagers took us for an early morning walk through his community. The first thing we saw, just off the main square were the untouched remains of half an aeroplane that had crashed 15 yr prior, killing all on board. The next was a small cave with 3 mummified bodies that had been found on top of the nearby mountain, again just off the main square. We were told they we tribesmen. The skulls showed at least adolescent age, but limbs and feet were Childlike- tiny statures. Weird? Yes, slightly scary? Yes, intriguing and fascinating - definitely. Which is probably why he showed the tourists something so gross. He made up for it with a walk round the village and a trip to the school - all niceness, no dead things.

Later that day we visited 'San Cristóbal' a 'new' town on the tourist tail. The history of the town made me quite uncomfortable. Granted, the story was one sided, but the guide told how the original town had sat on a massive potential wealth of silver. The locals were hand mining the silver but for survival, not great economic wealth. A massive Canadian firm realised the lands potential and demanded the town moved, villagers obviously refused so the company upped the ante, in the end the offer of electricity, a new school and running water was too hard for the villagers to resist. A new town was born the original area was handed over lock, stock and barrel to the corporation. All for the simple things we take for granted. This wasn't years ago - San Cristóbal is only 5 yrs old. In fairness, the company had some respect for the local culture. They moved the original church brick by brick including the inner art work using the latest technology, and each body from the cemetery was carefully relocated at a cost of thousands. A part of me thinks this highlights how humans have respect for others; the cynic in me believes there must be a hell of a lot of money sat under that land.

Onwards, and downwards, from the Altiplano to the Bolivian salt flats- and a hotel with solar heated showers, ooooh! What did I say above about materialism??!

Dee wasn't up for the sandboarding so me, Gaz and Claire got a 9 o'clock excursion to a place just outside town where there was a huge sand dune. There was a path leading up to the top and depending on how far you walk up, the sand dune got higher and steeper. Our guide couldn't speak English and he was too busy chatting up another Spanish girl anyway, so he gave us the advice of 'lean back', gave us the boards and wax and then left us to it. Luckily the sand was really soft and falling over was almost as fun as shooting off down the hill. Claire was the only one who had done snowboarding before and I think it worked to her disadvantage because it took her a while to grasp the leaning back thing. As we got more confident we moved further up the sand dune until it got slightly out of our comfort zone so we sat on the boards instead, which actually went faster. We had 4 hours on the dune for £12. By the end of the session there wasn't 1 orifice that wasn't completely filled with sand. Dee would have hated it. Apparently there's somewhere in Peru which has bigger dunes - I'm definitely up for that, but after seeing the state of me when I got back, I think Dee will choose to stay away again.