I set of early in the morning (3 am to be precise.). My taxi driver was late and then drove VERY slowly whilst talking about the time when he shook the queen's hand when she was young. Eventually I got to my friend Jenny's house who was also running late and her friend Max drove us to the airport.
The flight was smooth. We stopped in Iquique (north of Chile) before flying on to La Paz. There were not many clouds so we had a beautiful view although I was out for the count after take-off as I'd stayed at Marja's house talking until one.
The airport was really small but the first thing I noticed was that the locals were much friendlier than the chilenos (sorry guys) and we got in a micro to the centre. It was cramed full of locals and it seems that instead of putting a clear sign on the bus telling you where it's going there's a man who sticks his head out the window and shouts where it's going.
Our hostel was clean and safe but up the top of a very steep hill. Well, everything is actually in La Paz. We were both very out of breath by the time we got there. Not only because we had heavy backpacks and were walking up hill but also because the air is thinner there as it is so high up. I can't remember the exact altitude but I think something like 3700 above sea level. We spent the day walking around the town and found a nice healthy-ish chain restaurant called Dumbo where we were to return many times.
On our second day we took the bus to Titicaca Lake. The bus ride was long and there were too many people on the bus. The woman who was standing in the aisle who had no seat decided that I was her seat and spent most of the journey trying to sit on my arm. The lake was beautiful and so was the town called Copacabana. We ate kingfish from the lake in a restaurant and then trekked up the top of a hill where there was an amazing view of the lake. The journey back was a bit cold and the part where we had to get off the bus and into a speed boat to cross the lake (whilst the bus was loaded on to a raft type thing and carried over to the other side was especially chilly. Amazing views though and the stars were beautiful.
The next day we went on a bike tour to Coroico along the Camino de la Muerte (the death road in English.). Apparently there are 100 deaths each year on the camino because it's so dangerous with a huge drop of thousands of metres off the edge. The beginning was fun because it's all downhill so you go racing along but Jenny and I got a bit left behind by the guide as we didn't have quite the same kamikaze attitude as the rest of the group. We came to a tunnel which we entered with sunglasses. Stupid, I know but we were travelling too fast to think. Jenny went to take her sunglasses off, couldn't see anything and then lost control and went flying at high speed into the wall of the tunnel. I braked really hard and as a result also fell off my bike onto my chin and my arm but was up like a shot because I was convinced Jenny was dead. It seems as though this girl has nine lives though too. She didn't have a scratch on her. Just hurt her arm from the impact of falling like me. I got back on my bike for a bit but my arm was hurting too much and to be honest I was petrified off falling off the edge so did the rest of the road in the minibus like Jenny.
We had lunch in a lovely town with a gorgeous view of the Yungas where the temperature was about ten degrees more than La Paz. Shorts weather. The good thing is though that Jenny met a Dutch guy and they struck up quite a friendship let's say.
The next day was shopping and recovering from our accident before taking the bus to Cochabamba (the city of eternal spring) in the night. I also bumped into an Israeli friend that I met on the bus between Bariloche and Pucón in the summer which was funny.
The journey wasn't too bad. Lots of slow driving and loud TV with programmes (terrible programmes) dubbed over in Spanish. We reached Cochabamba in the morning and headed to a lovely hostel with a really helpful receptionist who lied for us to a Bolivian man so that we could have the nice room with the private bathroom. He really looked after us so I recommend to you all, if you ever find yourselves in Cochabamba, Bolivia, the hostel Florida.
Photos will follow later today.
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