My aim today was to cycle down "El Camino de Muerte", or what Bolivias tourist industry describes as "The worlds most dangerous road". This is 3500 m of pure descent, about 60km downhill. It was the main link to the Yungas region below La Paz, but a new road was built and most of the traffic was taken off it, which was fortunate as the accident rate on this single track, unpaved, safety barrier free road with hundreds of metres of sheer drop on one side was sky high, earning it it's name. Plenty of agencies run tours down it, but I decided to save the £50 and do it on my own bike.
   I started off and to get to this long downhill I had to climb 1000 m out of La Paz. As always the hardest bit was the first with the fumes and traffic of La Paz, but afterwards although the gradient didn't get easier (it was quite a steep one) the lack of Dodge buses did make it easier.
 I reached the summit of La Cumbre at about 4700 m and started to go down, putting on my ski gloves and the rest of my clothes to counter the inevitable cold. The first bit of the downhill was spectacular with the high snow covered mountains as the background, but lower down I went through the cloud, and it was difficult to see and raining. It was really raining hard when I decided to pull in for lunch. After lunch I found after a bit of difficulty the split between the old and new roads, and went on to the old road.
  It was still very foggy and raining and the road was everything described above, so I took it slow, especially on outside curves. It is actually the only road in Bolivia where the traffic drives on the left, so that upcoming traffic can locate their wheel on the edge of the cliff. But this drop was on my left, and there was little traffic so there was no way I was riding on the left.
  The clouds/ fog gave the route a mystic feel. I sometimes dared to peer over the edge and saw a sheer drop to absolutely nothing.
  I changed my brakes half way down, the length of the climb combined with the wet had worn them completely down. Soon after I emerged from under the clouds and got views of the now forested mountains.
  The road got wider and straighter and I could get up a bit more speed nearer the bottom. I saw my destination about 5 km away on the same level, but the road then wrenched away to the right down a long valley, leaving me a 600 m climb up!
  Despite the cobbles on this fairly steep climb I managed to get a rythmn, but my bike has decided on principle that it cant go a full day without a medium to serious technical problem and two thirds of the way up the tyre went flat. On trying to fix it I discovered that the whole valve simply wasn't there. There was a big hole in the inner tube where the valve should be. This detail may be uninteresting to non cyclists but it's fairly unusual, and it's the second time it's happened on this bike. I discovered I didn't have the correct spare tube and had to hitch up the remaining third of the hill. I ended up in Coroico, a pretty hillside town.

   In the morning it was raining hard, and the night before I´d booked a walk with a guide for the morning. I went to see whether the walk was still on, and he said that he´d take me around the local sights by car. I ended up getting a guide to myself as the others obviously took one look at the rain and decided they weren´t walking anywhere. The guide was enthusiastic and gave a lot of information about the area. He was also involved in projects to encourage Bolivians not to chuck rubbish anywhere, a much needed campaign. I´ve seen towns on the altiplano where every little plant on the plain downwind of the town has a bit of litter stuck to it.

  The area was stunning. The forested mountains provide an amazing backdrop, and the views way down to the river below added to the scene. Furthermore the mist and clouds just made the view better, even more magical. I was driven to an Afro- Bolivian village, home to descendents of slaves that survived the horrors of the Potosi mines. I was shocked to learn that slavery only ended in practice in 1952 with the Bolivian revolution, and after that the ex- slaves took over the haciendas and ran them as co-operatives. In theory slavery was ended one hundred years earlier, but the slaves had to buy their freedom. However no slave had the money to do so.

  The walk around the village was very pleasant, as I was shown all the different crops/ plants that were being grown in this co-operative. They included cocoa, coffee, papaya, bananas, oranges, and others.

  In the afternoon I took a bus back to La Paz, a 50 mile uphill in a minibus all done in first or second gear.

On Sunday morning after a couple of days in La Paz I started a 3 day trek from the pass above La Paz to Coroico, the same place where I had finished my longest downhill. This trek was a downhill one, starting at 4800 m and finishing at 1300m. Viewing the gradual change in scenery from the snow covered Andes to what was nearly rainforest was fantastic. It was an old Inca road, and it used to be the main thoroughfare down to the Yungas until the "Camino de Muerte" was built by Paraguayan prisoners of the Chaco war in the 1930s, a war for potential oil in the Chaco border region egged on by oil companies on both sides. I read that the Incas were very keen on road building and not always just for building the roads themselves, they wanted to keep their subject peoples busy and out of mischief (ie not rebelling). The Spanish conquerers were truly awful to the people here (I've been reading Eduardo Galeano's treatment of the subject which exposes some of the horror experienced by the conquered) but the Inca emperors had their excesses too. If they felt like fish from the sea or something from the jungle relays of runners over hundreds of miles were ready to get it for them. Hugh Thompsons "white rock" details the last Incas who tried to drum up support for a last rebellion against the Spanish but some subject peoples unsurprisingly didn't want to support them, leaving the Spanish to play divide and rule.
     I started the trek with only myself and the guide, but we soon met up with others and created for ourselves a group of 6 plus 3 guides. The trek was easy to do by oneself but I didn't feel like doing it on my own. It was a very nice group; 3 from Belgium, 2 from Switzerland, and myself. It was a very French speaking group; I was the only one who struggled in French! But it wasn't too bad as I generally understand a lot more than I speak and they would speak with me in English individually. The Belgian girls, Karen, Lees, and Lisa were great fun; they were in a choir called "Solidarity", which gives concerts around the world to raise money for projects including one in Bolivia, which they were visiting. This meant that the walks were livened up by the Flemish choir.
 The first day was all downhill from the Andean heights to our campsite at 3000 m, below the treeline. Walking down all day is harder than one might imagine, it is tough on the knees and the flat is certainly easier. I also was wearing my cycling shoes, which are designed for walking long distances but not if you don't take off the metal part at the bottom, which I couldn't, making some rocky parts very slippery.
The tricky path took it's toll on the Swiss girl, who slipped and injured her knee, and struggled for the rest of the trek. It certainly made us think about the inaccessibility of such areas in relation to medical services; there was no road anywhere near and if she decided not to continue she would have had to go back for a few hours on the back of a mule. For the local people life is certainly tough in these areas, especially in relation to lack of medical services. In the evening I was asked to translate the conversations for the girl about her options and the information would often pass through four languages, from Aymara to Spanish to English and then finally to French! She was then given some medicinal plants to bandage to her knee.
The guides were really helpful and cheerful Aymara guys, and were a lot more talkative than guides on the other excursions I've been on, explaining a lot more and answering questions on detail. They chatted between themselves in Aymara a lot of the time, and they certainly seemed more at ease in Aymara than Spanish, which is a second language to them. The Aymara and Quechua peoples of Bolivia are a lot more reticent and less talkative than others in South America, certainly not fitting the stereotype of loud, party loving, and gregarious Latino. My knowledge of Aymara/ Quechua history only scrapes the surface, but one can only guess how the long history of oppression might affect their worldview and their interactions with those outside their community.
They taught me some Aymara words and phrases, not any use to me for the rest of my life but it's always good to make people feel that outsiders value their culture.
The walk continued through some stunning views, and on the second and third days it went up and down a lot more. We thought on the third day we saw the fabled  condors, and were admiring them for a few minutes, bit were told afterwards that they were just a smaller relation. The birds had the same markings and the same distinctive style of flight as condors that a long term resident in La Paz described to me, ie hardly seeming to fly at all but just floating on the air currents. But unfortunately the birds were not condors.
The second night was a lot warmer than the first, it was 1000m lower and that made a lot of difference. We saw fireflies all over the place as well.
The last mornings walk was easier and gentler in gradient. We enjoyed some more singing from the Flemish choir, and Karen talked about her visits to the Taize community and her Christian beliefs. Her more "moderate" interpretations of the Bible certainly contrasted with those of my host in La Paz (lovely though she is), who inspires me to sympathize with Marx on the subject of religion.
 The next day's challenge was the Death Road-  in reverse. I slightly regretted not giving it a go and going back to La Paz by bus the first time I was in Coroico, so I'd asked the trekking agency to drop my bike in Coroico when one of their cars came down. The climb was monstrous, it started below Coroico at 1200m, and finished at La Cumbre at 4700m, the 3500 m difference the biggest I've attempted in my life.
 The first part involved climbing the old unpaved road, and this was even enjoyable in parts. Well, except when my inner tube blew up early on (I can heat the snickering of my brother already). After a long time trying to fit a badly fitting Chinese inner tube I could go back to enjoying the climb.  The scenery and the sheer adrenalin rush of having to cycle so close to such vertical drops made it quite fun. I could observe waterfalls and the plant life at a much slower speed than when I came down. I could also see the sheer number of crosses put by the side of the road in memory of those who had fallen over   the edge. I saw one in memory of a foreign cyclist who fell off two years ago. At the most dangerous points the density of crosses was very high.
 I was also a tourist attraction for those cycling down, even for the tour guides who took pictures of me going up. I got some Tour de France style support from about 20 cyclists stopped by the side of the road, and I think I was looking quite impressive to them until I fell off trying to squeeze past their support bus...
 Towards lunchtime I was getting tired and was very glad for a cafe break. I stopped at the meeting point between the old and the new roads, and the rest of the climb was on the new, paved road.
 The rest of the climb was not in any way enjoyable. It was a question of physcing myself up to complete it and counting off the kilometre markers. The scenery was great but I couldn´t appreciate it at all. I really felt finished towards the top, the last 5 km were painful. However I was really happy to complete it and was very satisfied that I'd done it. My mountain bike survived the climb too, perhaps that was more of an acheivement...
 At the summit (La Cumbre), I was feeling so exhausted I couldnt even be bothered to cycle the 20km down to La Paz. I was feeling very drained of energy and could not face a cold descent, so I flagged down a minibus and asked if the driver could take me and my bike to La Paz.

I dedicate the completion of the longest and highest (in altitude difference) climb of my life to Robert Guantlett and James Atkinson, who often inspire me to give it my all.

This is my last day in Bolivia, I will miss the country for many reasons. Hopefully one day I´ll make it back here, but this will be my last long trip for a while as I start a teaching course in September and have to start working hard!

Chacaltaya

After a relaxing day in La Paz I decided to take on a challenge- the highest road that I have ever cycled. Mount Chacaltaya overlooks La Paz and is an ex ski run, hence it has a road going within 200m of the top. Unfortunately the ski run is no longer in use due to the melting of the glacier- which is worrying. I read that climate scientists are debating whether the melt is due to local climatic factors or due to global warming, or both.
     The road finishes at 5300m, and I was starting at about 3700m in La Paz. The equivilant of an Alpine pass in height difference, but with added factors such as altitude and a very unpaved road.
    I did it without luggage which helped a lot. I started off on the same motorway out of La Paz that I had done twice before, and got my share of fumes from the American Dodge buses, which didn´t make me feel great at first, but once I left the traffic behind I felt much better. I took the climb on slowly as even though I´m adjusted to the altitude to a certain degree I know that too much sudden exertion up a mountain at these altitudes can leave one suddenly dizzy from lack of oxygen, so I just concentrated on breathing well and keeping a rythymn.
  I went through part of El Alto, the city 400m or so above La Paz, and a couple of kilometres later the paved road finished and became a track. This middle section of my route was reasonably gentle in gradient and was not that challenging. After a while I got to the foot of Mt Chacaltaya and the road began to hairpin up the mountain. This was more challenging as the road got worse, ice started appearing on the road, and the sheer drop off the side was worrying. It was quite challenging to steer a course around the bits of ice on one side and the cliff on the other, so I kept my shoes out of my SPDs so I could stop more quickly. I saw some birds of prey circling above as well, looked ominous!
   After a slow wind up the side of the mountain I finally got to the ski station, 5300m! I hiked the remaining 200m or so in height to the top of the mountain and was rewarded with unbelievable views of Huayni Potosi (6080m), La Paz and El Alto with the fumes from those ancient American buses hanging above, Lake Titicaca, and even the volcanoes close to the Chilean border; a very long way indeed. I ate some manky bread on top and came down. The descent was tricky at first and I could in no way get up any speed, but once I got off the mountain I could open up and I had an adrenaline filled downhill. I really learnt what a good downhill on a mountain bike is!
   The next day I had bought a flight to a town in the Amazon, called Rurrenebaque. It was however dealayed for a day, so I spent a day in La Paz relaxing and buying presents. I met up with Valerie, whom I´d met in Uyuni and did a three day tour together, and with another of her friends we had a very nice French/ Bolivian fusion meal. French cooking and Bolivian ingredients, trout and wild rice. A little pricier than normal but well worth it.
   The next day I took my flight to Rurrenebaque. Normally if possible I like to look for overland alternatives to flights, being often more interesting and less polluting (although nobody´s a saint here) but I looked at the 24 hour bus journey and compared it to the 30 min flight across the Cordillerra Real (6000m+ range east of La Paz) and my choice made itself. The 16 or so seat plane was the smallest I´ve ever been in, and the flight gave great views over the Cordillera Real, and the steep dropoff into the jungle from the peaks of this range. It gave me a slight sense of satisfaction that the plane didn´t go much higher than the road I´d cycled up, which I could seee from the window!
   The plane landed on a small strip 2 km out of town and I took a motorbike taxi in to town. It felt like a different country; we´d lost about 3500m in height and gained about 30 degrees in temperature. Motorbikes are the main form of transport around this small jungle town, unlike on the altiplano where it is a bit cold for them. Already I´ve seen a large amount of wildlife even in town,compared to the dogs that passed for the wildlife on the altiplano. I´ve spotted hummingbirds, parrots, and some enormous butterflies. I checked into a hostel and relaxed for the day, as my tour was happening the next day and there was not a lot to do except relax in the hostel hammocks and eat.
   In the morning I went to the agency and met up with the driver and the 7 other people doing the tour, and drove 3 hours along a bumpy road to the river. We then transfered to a motorised canoe and spent the afternoon viewing wildlife along the River Yacuna, which flows through the pampas (wetlands that completely flood in the summer wet season). We saw an amazing amount of wildlife in a short stretch of river. The most easy to spot were alligators and caymans, they were absolutely everywhere. We also managed to see squirrel monkeys, flamingos, pink river dolphins, pig sized creatures which look like and are related to rats (forgot the name), eagles, and much more. I was convinced to go swimming with the dolphins, the guide told us that the alligators would not come to the middle where we were swimming, so a couple of us took the plunge. However the experience did not fit the description "swimming with dolphins", it could more easily be described as "us swimmimg and dolphins avoiding us". All in all the ride was a very special experience. When I looked up above and saw all kinds of very exotic birds flying above I really felt I was in the jungle. The only complaint I had was that the guide went a bit fast sometimes, he did not give us enough time to really observe some of the animals. His explanations were often lacking too, even though one or two of us spoke enough Spanish to interpret he didn´t really say much.
   We stayed that night in some huts built for tourists, and here we could see squirrel monkeys again jumping all over the place. Sometimes they would jump onto the roofs and fight each other.
   The next morning´s activity was to look for anacondas. This involved a long walk through the pampas, which was often very muddy. We wore wellingtons as we were walking through a lot of swamp. Undfortunately one girl from the US complained non- stop; it was not a particuarly easy walk but she should have realised what the tour involved. She was actually a very nice girl (when chatting in the bar later) but a bit adverse to activity and the pampas tour cracked her a bit...  After 3 hours the guide spotted an anaconda, which we could get up close to as they are not particuarly dangerous. This one was about 2 metres long, and we spent a couple of minutes observing it before it got scared and went and hid in its´ tree.
   In the afternoon we went piranha fishing, and I managed to catch one! The first fish I ever catch and it´s a piranha. I was going to take the hook out but took a look at its teeth and handed the fish to the guide next to me.
   We went back the next morning and arrived back in Rurrenebaque in the early afternoon. All in all it was a very interesting tour, but for me the group didn´t gel quite as well as the last 3 day tour I did from Uyuni so it wasn´t as fun from that point of view. But very worthwhile for what we saw!

5 day trip to Lake Titicaca

I started off from La Paz at about 9.00, and climbed the autopista up to El Alto, 400m above. The "motorway" is a lot more pleasant than it sounds, as it is largely traffic free and very wide. After about 6 km it makes a big bend and goes in the opposite direction, and then one can see fantastic views over La Paz with the 6500m ilimani in the background. This time I'm cycling minus about 20 kilos of luggage, and hills are a lot more pleasant.
 The first half of the day included at least 20km through El Alto, the sprawling city above La Paz. The traffic was bad and I saw one minibus with "Jesus loves you" written in big letters on the back ram into another. The argument that followed between the two drivers didn't seem to feature much of Jesus's love.
After a lunch at a roadside stall of delicious rice and veg soup I got to Lake Titicaca, and began cycling around the edge of it. The scenery was spectacular.
  I met some Spanish cyclists after lunch who had cycled since Ecuador. It had taken the couple nine months, which was not suprising given their trailers looked like they belonged on the back of a car. They were living very cheap, sleeping on school floors and selling handicrafts to make money. They were doing about 30 / 40 km a day, and they said they were carrying a mattress in their trailer!
The afternoon's cycling was some of the best I've  done here, the shoreside was spectacular. Eventually I got to the straights where the two sections of Titicaca meet and took a 10 min ferry across. I debated doing the extra 40 km to Copacabana ( the largest town on the lake)  that night, but I had to wait a while for the ferry so didn't. I stayed in the town on the other side, after having done 120km. I regretted my decision a little as the room was horrible even by my low standards, and I broke the key to the door. In my defense I warned the owner that I couldn´t open the door beforehand, but he claimed it was possible and did a complicated routine which took him a few minutes, and then he gave the key to me and I came back later and on first try broke the key. I had to climb through a very small window in order to open the door from the inside!
After having fallen asleep very early (it was freezing and there was nothing to do) I woke up at 5.30 the next morning and cycled the 40km to Copacabana. The road went high along the ridgeline of the peninsula separating the two parts of the lake, and the view was very nice in the dawn light.
I arrived in Copacabana freezing after the morning descent down to the lake, and after breakfast had a look around town. I saw the famous "vehicle blessings" where drivers from all over Bolivia bring their new vehicles to town to be blessed by a priest for a fee.
I waited for the boat to go to the famous Isla del Sol just after lunch. This was a two hour boat across to an island very significant in the creation theories of at least 10 pre- Colombian cultures, including the Incas. The island is very touristy, but it is still very much worth going for its beauty and history. In the morning I hiked the length of the island, which took two hours, and the trail was not that crowded as I did it early. The walk was spectacular for it's views of the island itself and across Titicaca. On the other side of Titicaca it's possible to see the Cordillera Real, a snow capped range with heights up to 6500 m. At the end of the walk I got to the most spectacular Inca ruins on the island, with spiritual significance due to the location. They were built next to the "sacred rock", a rock sacred to the Incas and several cultures before them.
 After lunch I took the boat back from the north of the island to Copacabana. It was a long ride back but it was nice to chat to lots of Spanish, Italian, and Brazilian travellers on the way. I was wondering why the ride was going to take so long and then just before Copacabana the boat moored at some "floating islands" where local people were supposed to live. It was one of the most obviously fake tourist constructions I have ever seen, and only about three people bothered to get off the boat to see it! There exist genuine floating islands (made of reeds) where people actually live but I definitely didn't see them this time.
  Copacabana is a nice town but is certainly a bit of a tourist trap (although these places are unavoidable sometimes). My dinner was overpriced cold spaghetti, I did a better job myself in a freezing tent with one gas burner and that certainly didn't taste very nice. Come to think of it I think the restaurant used the same jar of sauce.
  The next day I crossed the Peruvian border which is only about 5 miles out of Copacabana, and spent a punishing morning fighting a strong headwind. I arrived in a town called Juli and relaxed for a while after lunch. It was a pleasant town and I was reminded why in a way cycling is such a great way to see places (after cursing my bike all morning). Old men came up to chat to me about my journey and my bike, and I saw a nice town that I might not have seen in a bus rushing between tourist attractions.
 The afternoon was nicer cycling; there was a headwind but not so strong. I saw some interesting birdlife ( no idea what any of it was called- but it looked very different to British birdlife!) Farmers were working in the fields and people on all kinds of transport honked me (usually in support). There are lots more motortrike cabs and cycle rickshaws in Peru, and one guy on his bicycle was being towed along by a motorbike with a rope at speed!
 I arrived in a town called Ilave after 85km and decided to call it a day, leaving myself about 50km to my destination in the morning (a homestay in a community on a peninsula sticking out into Titicaca). Ilave is nothing special but after the over the top tourist experience of Copacabana something "normal" is a change. The only problem for me was the huge number of chicken restaurants, I'm not exaggerating when I say I asked in 15 restaurants if they had anything but chicken and they said no. Eventually I found a restaurant doing some local semolina and potato soup.
     I got up early and started cycling, 20 km or so before breakfast. The cycling was easier without a headwind. Just before I got to my breakfast stop I had to fend off a pack of dogs, mainly by pretending to throw stones, or actually throwing the stones so as to miss them.
After breakfast at a roadside stall (a hot quinoa drink and some sweet bread) I looked for the road to Liquina Chico, my destination at the end of a peninsula sticking into Lake Titicaca. I didn't have a map with this minor road on it so I had to ask around, but eventually I found it. The road was about 30 km long and not paved, but it was a very beautiful ride alongside reed marshes.
 The village I was aiming for was a place at the end of the  peninsula where I could stay with a family for the night. The families in this small community take turns to receive visitors, and I stayed with a nice family of brothers and sisters in the middle of this Aymara speaking village. They come from a family of 10 brothers and 1 sister (not all living there). The 18 year old Wilbur, showed me around the village and took me with him on some of his farming tasks. I "helped" to move some sheep to a different part of the village, but they proved difficult to catch. He was an enthusiastic guide as his ambition was to be a proper tourist guide.
I was offered the chance to hire a rowing boat in the afternoon, but it was not the peaceful row on the lake I was hoping for. Wilbur came with me, as it was not an easy boat. The seat was too far back to row comfortably and water came in and needed to be bailed out every so often. I'm sure we returned before the hour that I hired was up but I didn't complain.
I walked on the beach just below the village and watched the sun set in this very beautiful setting, and skimmed stones with one of the village kids. After that I went back for  supper and chatted to one of the brothers, a fisherman, about their life in the village and answered his questions about the UK. There was a two year old daughter of the sister that was there but she didn't have any siblings, perhaps her mother saw what a difficult life her own mother had.
 The next day I took a series of buses (or micros) back to La Paz, over the border. I persuaded the drivers to strap my bike to the luggage racks on top. The border was no problem but on the Bolivian side just before I was going to get my passport stamped a group of border guards hauled me over, but they just wanted to poke around my bike and trailer rather than conduct a genuine inspection. When they had asked all their non- duty related questions they let me go. My trailer creates a lot of interest generally, I guess the type I have isn't very common in the UK either! Or come to think of it, bike trailers are not that common anywhere. The guidebook said that the border town I went through was a bit dodgy, but I experienced no problems. There were a lot of rickshaws ferrying people and goods across the border. Very interesting for a rickshaw aficionado like myself!
 Back in La Paz and with Gloria and Rene again, it's nice to be back! Just having a shower was fantastic- there was no way I was having showers without hot water in sub- zero altiplano temperatures. The shower here seems amazing in comparison- even though it is an art form to adjust the dial to the minute point where some hot water comes out. Perhaps that's why I travel the hard way sometimes- so everything else seems a luxury afterwards.
 It's a nice place to stay too, much better than a hotel as it's easy to chat to the family and other travelers, and they are always ready with help and information.

Chile.

I spent the second morning in San Pedro de Atacama exploring Valle de la Luna, an easy 16 km out from San Pedro and a very impressive desert valley, including impressive rock features and various dunes. The valley was almost empty, and when I stopped riding the absolute silence was eerie. I enjoyed mountain biking in the desert without my luggage!
San Pedro itself is a very pretty but touristy town, with not much more than 2000 people. It's the base for trips to some of the most beautiful scenery in Chile, so it's popular. It's almost car free in the centre, and a lot if people seem to do their errands on bike.
The next day I got up early and started off for Calama, 100km away. My plan was to cycle to Calama and then take the bus to Arica, near the frontier with Peru. I started off riding through some spectacular desert scenery, even more spectacular for the dawn light.
I had a friend with me this time! A golden retriever was following me out of town, and wouldn't be persuaded to leave me. I tried to shoo it away gently, but it just interpreted this as playtime. Eventually it ended up following me 15 km out of town, and I was getting worried as it was after all in the middle of the desert. So I had to share a bit of food and water with it, and then I decided to flag down a lorry going the opposite way and asked the driver to take it back to San Pedro. We carried a reluctant dog into the back and quickly shut the door before it decided to jump out again. I believe the dog was stray, lots of people abandon puppies when they grow up. But the dogs here are a lot friendlier then Bolivian ones.
   An hour or two later I decided to be a lazy cyclist and go back to San Pedro too, the road had been uphill all day and there was a monster of a headwind; I decided I´d had enough fun!
  That evening I took an overnight bus to Arica, the town furthermost north in Chile, on the Pacific coast. Chilean buses are very comfortable (National Express take note) and I slept really well. However they did try and charge me the ticket price again for taking my bike on the bus, the fact I managed to negotiate the price back down a long way means it was probably a bit of a scam.
  I woke up as dawn was breaking and the road descended into Arica through the clouds, the desert above Arica was cloud free, but in Arica I think it was the first time I´d seen a cloudy sky since the UK.
  Did a bit of sightseeing in the morning- spent a little time on the beach with the waves crashing onto the beach. Its great to smell the sea again! Then I went up to the large rock overlooking Arica. Its a great viewpoint, but its got a lot of military paraphanalia scattered all oer the top as it was the site that the Chilean army defeated the Peruvian army in the War of the Pacific. There was a very nationalistic military museum celebrating the event at the top too. You´d think they´d be a bit more sensitive to the feelings of the Bolivians and the Peuvians given they nicked the whole coastline.
  My chain broke again on the way up that hill, I was just tackling the steepest bit when it snapped, sending me flying onto the pavement. I´ve owned some rubbish bikes but this one...
   The Spanish here is very quick, its difficult to get used to after the slower Bolivian accent. They leave a lot of endings of words too.
   The next day I took a 10 hour bus to La Paz, which winds its way up to 4500m from the coast. As Arica is in the Atacama the road took us through some desert scenery and then finished up high in the Andes on the Bolivian/ Chilean border. It was snowing up there, but it wasn´t as cold as it was when I was in the far south of Bolivia. It was a nice bus journey but I was tortured by about 3 America saves the world movies with non- stop gun battles.
  Its good to be back in La Paz, I really enjoy this city. I´m staying with Gloria and Rene again for two nights, and then I´m off to Lake Titicaca in the morning for a few days. I´m cycling but not taking any of my camping stuff, hopefully this will make the ride a bit more pleasant.
   I spent the day today doing organisational stuff and relaxing. I cycled over to the bike shop to get a new chain, and tried to bargain the price down as far as possible as it was the same guy I bought the bike from. I pointed out all the faults on the bike by way of arguement but didn´t get more than 2 pounds off the price...
  I really enjoyed cycling around La Paz this morning, I can really feel the difference in my lungs compared to when I was here before. Plus La Paz has such an amazing background in the mountains, and lots of interesting markets on almost every street. However I did get told off by a policeman for not wearing a hemet (fair point but somebody stole it) and also for not wearing kneepads....

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

I'Ve had a very exciting time in the last week or so. I'll start with Potosi. It's a city at 4000 m, and essentially founded due to it's proximity to the silver mine, a huge conical hulk of a mountain about 4800m high looming over the city and one which supplied the Spanish empire with its silver. Many travelers d'o tours of the mine, which is what I did. However the mine is not a tourist mine, but a working mine with horrendous conditions. The air is noxious and the tunnels so narrow that we had to crawl on all fours to get from one level to the next. We spent about 4 hours in there, which is of course nothing compared to what the miners have to d'o day in day out as part of their work in the now co-operatively managed mines. Their life expectancy due to the fumes is short. In the past when the Spanish forced the indigenous people to work there they had to stay down the mine for months at a time, and estimates put the deaths at 8 million. I think such tours form a worthwhile and balancing part of tourism in general, one can wander around admiring beautiful buildings but it certainly gives cause for one to reflect why the beautiful buildings are there.
 One Spanish girl told me she didn't really feel sorry for the miners as they were there out of choice and they didn't really know any other life, but I think that given the lack of other opportunities this certainly stretches the meaning of choice.
 The other attraction in Potosi is the old mint, where the silver was turned into coins, nearly 500 years ago.  There I saw huge horse powered wooden machines which did the job. The animals died quickly as they were not used to the altitude.
I met a guy from Rio de Janeirio on the tour of the mint, and we travelled to Sucre together on the bus. Sucre is the legal capital of Bolivia and is about 150 km from Potosi. Here all the old colonial buildings are whitewashed, and hence it is quite a striking place. However on the day I was there all the museums were closed, and so I had a wander around the town and spent time in the square reading. I met up with my friend later in the afternoon and had a few drinks with him.
 I saw a couple of museums the next morning before heading back to Potosi on the bus, where I'd left my bike. The next day I got up at dawn and started off for Uyuni, potentially a 2 day ride away. However various factors conspired to me deciding that I  having much fun on the bike and flagging down a bus 60 kilometers later. The first included cycling in the wrong direction for 15km, all downhill! So I had to cycle up 15 hard kilometers again and then started off in the right direction, still cycling uphill and passing within sight of the town centre. Then a puncture, which was not just a normal puncture but one where the whole valve just came clean off as I was riding uphill. And my luggage kept falling off as somebody had decided to steal my bungees the night before. Couple this with some heavy luggage and some hard mountain passes and I'd had enough.
  I've only done little bits of cycling in the last week, perhaps because long distance cycling on ones own is quite a lonely task, especially through such remote areas. Other people can cycle on their own for months, but perhaps not me! I'll probably continue this way and cycle some bits and avoid others. Cycling is a great way to see a country, but Ive realised intense cycling in a new country and culture where there is so much else to do and see as well is not a great idea.
The bus got me to Uyuni that night and I then decided to cycle the famous salt flats the next day. The town is 20 kilometers  away from the salt flats, and I got up at dawn and did that and then cycled about 50 or 60 km on the salt flats themselves. Salar de Uyuni ( the salt flats) is a real phenomenon, an absolutely flat area of salt about 150 km by 100km. Cycling across it is like sailing across a sea. One can see the curvature of the earth on it like one can at sea; only the tops of distant mountains can be seen and their bases appear later. Parts of it have 10 cm of water covering it, I cycled for a few km through the water. It's almost like flying due to the reflection of the sky creating blue all around, above and below. The altiplano drains into it and in summer ( rainy season ) the salt flats are covered by 50 cm of water.  Long ago a large part of the altiplano used to be a lake, and the salt flats are all that is left of that lake.
 That evening I decided to take a three day tour from Uyuni into the remote southeastern regions of Bolivia and to the Chilean border. I wanted to see this beautiful region but it didn't seem much fun by bike given the remoteness of it, so I persuaded the woman at the agency to let me put my bike on top of the jeep. There were 6 of us in the group; a fantastic group of people. The group included 2 from Portugal, 1 from Cataluna, 1 from Ecuador and 1 from France.
 The first day of the tour covered the salt flats again, which I didn't mind as the salt flats are extremely impressive. This time we went to an "island" in the middle of the flats. The island is notable for the cacti growing on it, and some are 1000 years old. The views from the top of the island are indescribable, one can see the salt flats stretching for miles in all directions. The air is so clear that it's possible to see over 100 miles, and a volcano the other side of the flats which one might guess to be only 30 km away was actually 100 km away. It's s very popular tourist attraction and there are a lot of tour groups there, but it's easy to see why.
 The second day took us south into the remote wilderness of the southern altiplano. The area includes some stunning lakes, of different colours due to the different chemicals in them. The road was not paved and goes high. That day was very windy, and we didn't spend very long outside the jeep looking at some of the attractions. The wind whipped up a lot of the dust and grit in this semi- desert and it was hard to walk into. We spent the second night at a small hut on the shore of Lago Colorada, a lake coloured partly red due to the chemicals in it. The wind chill was extreme ( daytime temps were already below zero) and our friend from Ecuador started to suffer from the weather and the altitude. The huts had no heating and we spent a fun evening playing cards wrapped in several layers in our sleeping bags. We were given some excellent Bolivian vegetable soup though.
  My birthday started at 5am and at -13 (inside). We all sat in the jeep shivering whilst the heating slowly took effect and we climbed even higher to 5000m. The scenery was stunning, as it had been for the last 2 days. At 9am we arrived at some volcanic springs, and I was the only one to go in! I'm not sure why the others didn't go in as they were fantastic after such a cold couple of days, I could have stayed there all day. It was a great start to my birthday! My presents that day included the morning in the front seat, a stick of toblerone, and a bearhug.
The border came shortly afterwards, and the rest of the tour group went back to Uyuni, leaving me to cross the border. I was sad not to spend the rest of my birthday with them. I had a ticket for a lift in a car the other side of the border, but since it was largely downhill to the town I wanted to go to I chose to cycle. I passed through Bolivian customs and then had to climb for 5 km or so over the pass into Chile. Although I didn't d'o the work to get up there it was certainly the highest I have ever been or cycled, at close to 5000m. The road was iced over and had quite a bit of snow on it, and I fell off a couple of times. I crested the peak and started to go down, although I had to walk bits as the ice made it unrideable. The road curved around a 6000m volcano. A few hundred metres lower and the ice finished, and I had a 40 or 50 km downhill run into the town of San Pedro de Atacama. It was stunning looking back and seeing the Andes stretching into the distance for probably 200 miles. It must count as one of the best downhills of my life!
 I am in San Pedro de Atacama now, a touristy town ssurrounded by the Atacama Desert. I'll use my bike to explore the areas attractions and then when Im finished I'll probably cycle to Calama, about 100 km west. Ill prob take a bus and to Arica and then out of Chile. Chile is as expensive as Europe, so I think I'll limit my time here a little.
 I finished my birthday by calling Young Sun on Skype, who was very sweet and made me a cake with candles and showed it to me on the web- cam. As I couldn't eat it I consoled myself by eating the toblerone later. I treated myself as well to a birthday dinner of a quinoa and mushroom risotto with cheese on top. Im going to try and find a cookbook of the vegetarian dishes around here as some of them are delicious.

sore arse in Bolivia- got to Potosi

I´m in Potosi! I´m very happy about that- I got here about 2.30 this afternoon and have been eating pretty much all day. Except the time I phoned my lovely wife and took a look in the mirror for the first time in a while and shocked myself into having a SHOWER. One of the good things about doing some hard cycling is everything tastes better afterwards, and showers feel amazing too. Wish I´d bought my other pair of shoes with me though... 

A short summary of three days:

Sat 18 Jun 125km
Got lost coming out of Oruro, Lonely Planet maps should never actually be followed. Thats my excuse anyway, added 3 km onto my total as a result.
Todays route was mainly flat, I followed the main road along Lake Uru Uru, but not exactly alongside it. I never actually saw the lake, only a few mirages. I was genuinly convinced I saw a lake ahead at one point, but it seems really easy up here to see mirages.
Stopped in a village for some breakfast, a lady called me over to her table on the side of the road and I went to see what she had, and the soup she had was great. I love Bolivian vegetable soups, and it was only 50p.
Discovered again how much dogs hate bikes, however many cars pass they just sit there, but if they see a bicycle they will come running at high speed like crazy from a distance of 500m. The only thing to do is to stop and look menacing and pretend to throw something; if you keep cycling they just bark at your heels for ages or possibly do worse.
Got into Caracol in the evening, it was very difficult to find somewhere to stay but eventually found a bed for 2.50 . The price included a bed and a light, but not the light after a while as there was a power cut.
All in all did a lot of km today, but not amazingly exciting cycling as it was very flat and at some points there were no corners for a few miles.

Sun 19th June
Truly cycled in the Andes today, Caracol is just on the altiplano but the road crosses into the Cordillerra de Frailes (part of the Andes). After breakfast of api (dont know what is in it but this hot drink is v nice) and bread at a roadside stall I got going, and started climbing and didn´t stop for at least 50k. The scenery was much more interesting and the road passed through lots of interesting villages and farms.
   I must have ended up very high up, I think possibly 4600 or 4700m, as I was at the height of a lot of the peaks. This was certainly the highest I´d ever been on a bike and my lungs could certainly feel it. I´ll check this road on Google Maps, I´m very curious as to how high it was.
  The road started to go up and down a lot towards the end of the day, which was quite tough. But it was a great days cycling and I really felt I was cycling in the Andes.
 Decided to camp for the night as I got to the village where there might have been somewhere to stay too early. and I wanted to reduce the mileage for the next day. I must have camped high as it was a cold night even with most of my tops on, and there was ice on the mountains the next morning at the level I was at.
Had a crap pasta dinner with a Ragu sauce that advertised itself as having all the vegetables in it that one would need in a day, in my dinner I counted a very small mushroom.
Great view of the stars at night, I could see what I was sure was the Milky Way very clearly.

Mon 20th June
Early and freezing start today, with a nasty climb to start off. The road continued to be very scenic, and passed through an area of almost red rock, although I have no idea what it actually is. After the early morning climb the road went down for a long way, until I started to see trees, which worried me because Potosi is well above the tree line. My suspicions were confimed and I got a very sharp uphill. These hills are not too steep compared to the Alps if one doesnt have luggage and has a racing bike, but with a crap mountain bike and a trailer they are tough. I got another 10k long climb into Potosi, which got steeper and steeper as the town got nearer. Eventually I got into the centre of town, but not after having my trailer knocked by a car. The trailer was OK though. 

  I´m leaving my bike for five days or so now, I´m spending time in Potosi, then taking a bus 150k to Sucre and spending some time there, then coming back to Potosi to pick up my bike and cycle to Uyuni.

Going down inside the Cerro Rico tomorrow, the silver mine which fueled the Spanish empire and wars. Co-operative miners still work there in very poor conditions.

In Oruro

I´m now relaxing in Oruro after 230 km in two and a bit days. Oruro is not a spectacular city but nice enough, and a good place to relax. Today I had a PROPER SHOWER, which was amazing.

I started off on Wednesday from La Paz, and the climb out was a bit of a challenge. La Paz is situated 400m below the "altiplano", the high flat region between two ranges of mountains which is for the most part around 4000m high. The combination of a trailer with tent etc, altitude, and ancient Dodge buses spewing out pollution made the climb a challenge. I did go up the hairpined "autopista", which made the gradient a bit less, rather than going straight up the side which would have been shorter, but at 20% gradient there was no way I was going to try that.
 
  Eventually I got up to El Alto, a city in its own right, an Aymara city full of immigrants from the countryside. I passed La Paz Internarional Airport and continued into the countryside. It was FLAT! I did wonder why the sun was in the wrong position, I seemes to be going the wrong way out of La Paz, even though I was right according to the map and the 6500m high Mt Illimani was on the correct side. Then I realised that I was in the Southern Hemisphere where the sun spends the middle of the day to the north!

  I heard what must have been Aymara for the first time when I stopped for lunch, I hadn´t heard it in La Paz.

I spent the night in a cheap hotel, and managed 95 km for the first day. Some of the uphills were long, not too steep but certainly difficult due to the luggage and the crap bike I have. For a new bike it quickly developed a collection of problems, maladjusted gears, handbars which don´t do up properly, wheel coming off (fortunately when I was just pulling off, not when I was actually cycling).

  The second day I started off early in the morning, and the altiplano gave some very fine views this early. The sun made some very nice shadows on the hills. The morning´s cycling was tough and mainly uphill, but fortunately the afternoon was a bit easier. I gave up about 3.30 after about 95km, about 40km short of Oruro. One bloke rode next to me on his motorbike and had a chat for about 5 min, he told me that I should buy a motorbike instead. It did seem tempting.....

  Stopped off at an "alojemento" a small B and B type place. It advertised a shower, but I asked if it was hot. He said, of course its hot, what do you expect? It was hot as promised but unfortunately only a dribble.

This morning I set off early and got to Oruro about 10am. The road was flat and had one small bend in about 40km. I realised too how far one can see up here, I looked back and saw the snow covered peaks surrounding La Paz, about 100 miles away at least.

 Been relaxing here all day, I´m going to start my journey to Potosi tomorrow! Hopefully a three day ride, maybe four....