Bolivia

Amigos,

I wrote this latest entry a few days ago, but Jess has been busy translating so that it is simultaneously available in French. The content is therefore a little out of date and we are, in fact, now in Mendoza having celebrated an excellent New Year on the beaches of Southern Uruguay.....

Amigos,

Mike a ecrit cette mise a jour il ya de cela quelques jours, mais vu que j'ai essaye de traduire en francais, ca a pris plus de temps que prevu. Nous sommes maintenant a Mendoza en Argentine, apres avoir passe le nouvel an sur les plages au sud de l'Uruguay....

"This (somewhat overdue) update comes from the Termas del Dayman, with Jess and I having made a largely unplanned detour into Uruguay, a country famous for winning the inaugural football World Cup (plus a second one in 1950) and... er... Fray Bentos pies! For those tracking our movements with a pin and wall map, since our last update we've passed through Bolivia, exiting via the very south west corner into Chile, spent a week in the Atacama desert and a couple of days just outside Santiago, crossed to Buenos Aires, popped up to the Iguazu falls and back and bussed across to Uruguay. I haven't taken the time to calculate our carbon footprint, but I suspect if I were to try and offset the impact, I'd be planting trees in the amazon for the next nine months rather than getting on with the serious business of globetrotting. So whilst Jess heads off for her spade and gloves, i'll give you a quick update on the last few weeks.

Cette mise a jour (en retard) vous vient des Thermes de Dayman, au court d'un long detour non plannifie en Uruguay, pays connu pour avoir gagne la premiere coupe du monde de foot en 1930 (et une 2eme en 1950) ainsi que les tartes a la viande en conserve de Fray Bentos (connues en Angleterre...). Pour ceux qui suivent notre itineraire a la loupe, depuis notre derniere mise a jour nous avons franchit la Bolivie, en sortant par le coin sud ouest du pays, pour se retrouver au Chili, ou nous avons passe quelques 5 jours dans le desert Atacama et 2 jours a cote de Santiago. Puis nous avons pris un vol pour Buenos Aires, sommes passes par les chutes d'Iguazu et nous sommes rendus en bus jusqu'en Uruguay. Mike n'a pas pris le temps de calculer notre impact environemental , mais j'imagine que si l'on voulait compenser cet impact, on devrait planter des arbres en Amazonie dans les 9 mois a venir plutot que de continuer notre serieuse affaire de tour du monde. Donc pendant que je (Jess) commence a planter des arbres, Mike va vous donner quelques nouvelles, cette fois traduites par Jess en francais!

Happily, the infamous death road failed to live up to its name and we are still alive. Indeed, our party of six managed to reach the bottom without so much as a scratch between us, although quite how Stephen, our Scottish friend, managed to avoid injury when he shot off towards the moutain-side legs and arms akimbo, is anyone's guess. We were pleased to here that there was no need to ride back to the top, but the change in altitude from Huayna Potosi down to Coroico and back up to La Paz seemed to do funny things to Jess and I and we spent the next day in bed recovering.

Etant encore vivants, je suis heureuse de vous apprendre que la celebre "route de la mort" n'a pas justifie son titre. En effet, notre groupe, compose de six personnes, a reussi a arriver au bout sans trop d'egratinures, malgre Stephen, un de nos compagnons Ecossais, qui a reussi a eviter de se blesser de justesse en perdant le controle de son velo et a reussi a s'arreter grace au flanc de la montagne. Arrives en bas, nous etions soulages d'apprendre qu'on avait pas besoin de tout remonter a velo, mais il semblerait que la difference d'altitude entre le haut sommet de Huayna Potosi (a 6088 metres) quelques jours auparavant et le bas de la descente a velo a Coroico (environ 1800) nous a joue des tours car Mike et moi avons passe le lendemain couches, a essayer de recuperer.

That seemed to work well enough, and we headed off to Sorata, three hours north of La Paz, for some climbing in the Cordillera Real the following day. All good advice is to seek out a guide in Cordillera Real, unless you have excellent equipment and advanced navigational skills. It is fair to say that we posess neither, but the only guide in the town seemed to be taking advantage of his monopoly, so we bought a map and tried to work out which way was north. The next day we set off early to climb up to a tiny laguna hidden half way up Ilampu, at a height of about 4200m, and whilst we started positively it soon became apparent that we were totally lost, not least when a couple of locals helpfully highlighted the fact that our current location was some 3km away from where we thought we were. Undeterred, we corrected our route and were confident of reaching the top when a huddle of fellow walkers advised us to turn back as the weather was turning. Again, we ignored their advice and arrived at the lake just as we were about to give up after seven hours of climbing. Stiff from the previous day's exertions, we foolishly opted for another walk the next day, but were rewarded with a private visit to the Gruta de San Pedro, a huge cave housing an underwater lake, which was home to countless bats and hadn't been visited by tourists in days.

Ayant bien repris nos esprits, nous sommes partis pour Sorata, a 3 heures au nord de La Paz, afin de faire de la randonnee en montagne dans la Cordillera Real. Il y recommande de prendre un guide a moins d'avoir un excellent materiel et un tres bon sens de l'orientation. A vrai dire, ne possedant ni l'un ni l'autre, et voyant que le seul guide en ville semblait profiter de sa situation de monopole, nous avons decide d'acheter une carte et essayer de trouver dans quel direction etait le nord. Le lendeamin, on est parti tot pour essayer d'atteindre une petite lagune nichee a 4200 metres d'altitude, sur les versants de l'imposante montagne Illampu. Bien que nous soyins partis dans un esprit tres positif, nous nous sommes vite rendus compte que nous etions completement perdu, surtout quand des locaux nous ont signale qu'on etait a environ 3 km d'ou nous pensions etre. Sereins, nous avons change notre chemin, et une fois la confiance regagnee, nous avons ete destabilise a nouveau en rencontrant des randonneurs qui nous ont conseille de rentrer car le temps etait menacant. Une fois de plus, nous avons sagement ignore leurs conseils, et nous sommes quand meme arrive a la lagune, au moment ou l'on envisageait de redescendre, et cela au bout de 7 heures d'ascension... Le lendemain, pleins de courbatures, on a opte a nouveau pour une autre randonnee, mais le recompense au bout en valait la peine, car on y a eu le droit a une visite privee de la Grotte de San Pedro, ou se cache un lac sous-terrain, ou vivent de nombreuses chauve-souris, qui ont visiblement ete perturbees par notre presence vu qu'aucun touriste n'y etait venu depuis des jours.

To recover we headed down to Sucre, important once for being the original capital city and the place where the declaration of independence was signed, but these days more notorious for having the best saltenas in Bolivia. We were surprised, and in my case relieved, to find an attractive, whitewashed colonial city after a 14 hour bus ride without a toilet. We took the opportunity to relax a little then walked to the highly recommended seven waterfalls, which proved to be pathetic dribbles, but were nice enough to swim in after a long walk. Walked out, we opted to visit the Parque Cretacico, a Jurassic Park-style dinosaur park, which is utterly dull. However, its raison d'etre is undoubtedly the view which it affords of a nearby wall, awash with dinosaur footprints and raised vertical by fault line movements, which was apparently discovered by a team of cement workers from the factory next door. It was a far more impressive site than either of us had expected.

Pour se remettre de nos randonnees, nous sommes descendus en bus jusqu'a Sucre (ancienne capitale de la Bolivie et aussi connue pour les meilleures "saltenas" du pays). Nous avons ete surpris de tomber sur une charmante ville coloniale, toute blanche. Nous nous y sommes un peu reposes avant de nous rendre (a pied bien entendu) aux "7 cascades", qui nous avaient ete vivement recommandees par les locaux mais qui se sont averees etre quelques crachats d'eau plutot pathetiques, mais qui ont quand meme suffit a une baignade. En ayant eu assez de marcher, le lendemain nous sommes alles faire la visite du "Parque Cretacico", un Jurassic Parc bolivien plutot decevant. Mais ce parc existe dans un premier temps a cause d'un mur geant a cote, ou l'on peut y voir des empreintes de dinosaures, decouvertes par les ouvriers de l'usine a ciment d'a cote. Finalement c'etait beaucoup plus impressionant qu'on ne l'aurait imagine!

After Sucre, we headed across to Potosi, another colonial city, which was the biggest city in the Americas back in the 16th century when the Spaniards discovered the 'Cerro Rico' behind it was full of silver and tin, and went at it like a giant bowl of patatas bravas. Its no longer the powerhouse it was, primarily because the value of silver has plumeted, but the mines are still active and Jess - having excitedly made friends with a Czech couple - and I went to visit them the next day. We were lucky that we picked a day when the miners were busy repairing the track for their wagons because the dust is horrendous and the air pretty thick (most of the miners die after 15 years from silicosis) when they're busy blowing things up. Nevertheless, conditions were awful and the miners, some of whom were just fourteen, seemed very grateful when we gave them fizzy drinks and coca leaves to chew (apparently cigarettes aren't as popular these days). It was amazing to see the amount of raw silver that they need to collect to make a single ring, and more incredible to think that on any one day 5,000 people are still working away in the same hill they did in 1545.

Apres Sucre, nous sommes partis pour Potosi, autre ville coloniale, qui au XVI siecle etait la ville la plus importante d'Amerique quand les Espagnols y ont decouvert le "Cerro Rico", montagne remplie d'argent et de metal, sur laquelle tout le monde s'est jete, comme sur une assiette de "patatas bravas". Ca n'est desormais plus la machine a sous que ca a ete jadis, cela a cause de la devaluation du cours de l'argent, mais les mines continuent d'etre exploitees. Mike et moi, qui au passage et a ma grande joie me suis faite amie avec un couple de Tcheques, avons decide d'aller explorer l'interieur de ces mines. Nous avons eu de la chance que le jour de notre visite, les mineurs etaient occupes a reparer les rails du "tunnel principal" pour rehabiliter le passage de leurs wagons et non a "travailler" activement avec leurs dynamites, ce qui en regle general rend l'air irrespirable (la plupart des mineurs meurent d'une silicose au bout de 15 ans). Les conditions y sont affreuses et les mineurs (certains n'ont que 14 ans) etaient tres reconnaissants qu'on leur apporte a boire et des feuilles de coca a macher (apparemment les cigarettes ne sont plus bien populaires de nos jours). C'etait incroyable de voir le nombre d'argent a l'etat brut qu'il faut recolter pour pouvoir faire une seule bague, mais aussi de voir que cette meme mine continue de rassembler 5000 personnes par jour, comme en 1545.

After Potosi we went with Petr and Jana (the Czechs) down to Tupiza (allegedly the area where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid finally met their maker) before our four day trip to the Salar de Uyuni and the Sud Lipez. Against all my better judgement, we opted for a five-hour horse ride into the Wild West-style canyons around the town and what I fully expected to be a painful experience was made worse by the fact that my horse was ten months pregnant and was displaying all the characteristics of someone who had been through that experience before and knew what was coming next. Needless to say, I had a very sore derrier and deep concerns about my future fertility for the next five days. Because the horseriding was such fun (?), we booked the Salar tour with the same operator and joined Petr and Jana, plus a cook and a driver for our tour the next day.

Apres Potosi, nous sommes descendus avec Petr et Jana (les Tcheques) a Tupiza (la ou apparemment les fameux cow-boys Butch Cassidy et Sundance Kid ont ete abattus), derniere etape avant notre tour de 4 jours dans le Salar de Uyuni et Sud Lipez. Malgre les contestations de Mike, nous sommes partis faire une balade de 5 heures dans les canyons type far-west dans les alentours de la ville. L'experience de Mike, qu'il voyait comme deja tres douloureuse, s'est averee pire que ca quand quand il s'est rendu compte que sa jument etait enceinte de 10 mois. Inutile de vous dire qu'il s'est retrouve avec un derriere en feu et des doutes profonds au cours des 5 jours qui ont suivi au sujet de sa fertilite. Ayant ete ravis (?) du tour a cheval, nous avons reserve notre tour qui partait le lendemain dans le Salar de Uyuni, par la meme agence. Cela dans une jeep, avec Petr et Jana comme compagnons, et en plus une cuisiniere et un chauffeur/guide.

The south of Bolivia is home to some of the most diverse, dramatic and harsh landscape on earth and save for the odd 4x4 trip like ours, is totally unspoiled. The first day was largely dominated by a drive to Uyuni, where we managed to convince our surly driver to visit the 'train cemetry' a strange spot in the desert where a vast mass of disused steam trains have been left to rust, and across the northern part of the Salar salt lake, where we stopped to admire the salt hotel (it was closed for poor sanitation apparently) and take pictures, irritating the driver further by leaving a camera bag behind and nearly getting stuck on the lake overnight. The next day we went to the Isla de Pescadora, a tiny island which juts out of the middle of the salt plan and acts as home to thousands of giant cacti. We spent hours taking hypnotic photographs before Petr and I got bored and, for once managed to please the driver by leaving early. We spent the next two days passing through the ' Dali desert' (complete with bizarre rock formations) and a host of lakes, the most spectacular of which were the colorada (red), the verde (green) and the blanca (you guessed it, white). We also took countless pictures of flamingoes, dipped in natural thermal baths at 4000m and visited a geyser-field bubbling with lava and water.

Le sud de La Bolivie abrite les paysages les plus varies, dramatiques et hostiles sur la planete et mise a part les passages de jeep comme la notre, c'est reste sauvage et intact. La majeure partie de la premiere journee a ete passee en jeep pour se rendre a Uyuni ou nous avons reussi a convaincre notre desagreable chauffeur de nous emmener au cimetiere de trains, un lieu bizarre dans le desert ou de nombreux trains a vapeur ont ete depose pour y rouiller en paix. Puis nous nous sommes arretes pour admirer un hotel de sel (ferme a cause de pauvre hygiene), prendre des photos et mettre le chauffeur en colere pour avoir laisse une sacoche d'appareil photo a notre dernier arret, d'ou nous avons failli rester coince sur le lac asseche toute la nuit. Le lendemain, nous sommes alles sur "Isla de los Pescados", petite ile jaillissant du Salar et qui abrite des milliers de cactus geants. Nous y avons passe des heures a essayer de prendre des photos en tropme l'oeil jusqu'au moment ou Petr et Mike en ont eu marre et pour la premiere fois du voyage nous avons fait plaisir au chauffeur en voulant partir avant l'heure. Nous avons traverse au cours des 2 prochaines journees de tour le desert de Dali (avec des formations de rochers bizarres) et une serie de lagunes, dont les plus spectaculaires etaient la Colorada (rouge), la Verde (verte) et la blanca (vous l'avez devine, blanche). Nous avons aussi pris des milliers de photos de flamants roses, nous nous sommes baignes dans une piscine naturells d'eau thermale chaude a 4000 metres d'altitude, et nous avons visite un champs de geysers ou la lave bouillonait dans les crateres au sol.

On the last day, Ruben (our driver) dropped us at La Cabana, a windswept hostel at the base of Volcan Licancabur which straddles the Chilean border. We were glad to see the back of Ruben who had showered us with bizarre insults (from 'stubborn Turks' to 'bad tourists'), but sad to see the back of the trip and nervous at the thought of a climb up Licancabur the next day. After some lengthy, and frankly unproductive negotiation, we found ourselves a guide for the climb and set off at 2am (to avoid the winds) in -10 celsius, for the trek. I was typically enthused to hear that our guide had not taken one Englishman successfully to the top, but not so enthused as the Czechs when we passed the grave of one of their countryman who had fallen victim to a rockslide. All fears were soon forgotten though as we reached the top in four and a half hours and, shattered, took pictures of the world's highest freshwater lake in the crater below.

Le dernier jour de tour, Ruben (notre chauffeur) nous a laisse a "La Cabana", un refuge battu par le vent qui sert de camp de base au Volcan Licancabur (5950 m) et a la frontiere du Chili. Nous etions contents de faire nos adieux a Ruben qui a trouve le moyen de nous couvrir d'insultes (tetes de turcs, mauvais touristes) mais tristes d'arriver a la fin du tour et en meme temps angoisses a l'idee de grimper le volcan Licancabur le lendemain. Apres de longs essais de negotiations en vain, nous nous sommes trouve un guide pour l'ascencion que l'on a du commence a 2 heures du matin (afin de ne pas avoir de vent) avec une temperature de -10 degres. Mike etait ravi de savoir que notre guide n'avait encore jamais reussi a emmener un Anglais jusqu'au sommet mais pas aussi "ravis" que les Tcheques quand nous sommes passes a cote de la tombe d'un de leur confrere, victime d'un eboulement de pierre au cours de son ascension du volcan. Toutes nous peurs ont ete oubliees uqnd nous sommes arrives au sommet en 4 heure et demi, et, epuises, avons quand meme reussi a prendre des photos du lac d'eau douce le plus haut du monde, jonche dans le cratere du volcan.

Tired, we crossed the border to San Pedro de Atacama, to join my mum and Richard (aka Flash) for a few days of luxury. Any aches and pains we had soon melted away in the swimming pool at Awasi and we revelled in the hot showers, fine wine and delicious food. The hotel provided excursions, so Jess and I jumped on bikes to float in a salt lake the first day, then joined Mum and Richard on a trip around local sites the next day. The picnic of freshly baked quiche, delicious salads and white wine was quite a change from our usual fair of half melted bars of Bolivian chocolate and we followed that up with a trip to the thermal spas the next day. After relaxing to the point of laziness, we left to go to Casa Real in Santiago, a mansion in the grounds of a winery, where meals are served with the local plonk, and on the 19th we visited the local vineyard restaurant for 'Christmas lunch'. All of us had delicious seafood starters, but I was feeling paculiarly plucky (or should that be ballsy) and so opted for the lambs testes for main course. Whilst they turned out to be quite tasty, I was surprised to see several hairs appear on my chest the next day, and was, in truth, envious of Jess' scallops. Stuffed to the gills, we were planning a light dinner, but our friends at Casa Real had different ideas leading us to the house´s private dining room where we shoveled a second three-course meal down our necks with the aid of yet more local wine. Apparently, Antonio, the head waiter had thought up the idea the last time mum and Flash were in town and wanted to say thanks for their loyal custom. I´m not sure if Jess and I were in the original plan, but that didn´t stop us from filling our boots like latter day versions of Henry VIII all the same. After such indulgence, it was difficult to leave Casa Real and in particular the wines, but leave we had to and the next day were in Buenos Aires.

Fatigues, nous avons passe la frontiere du Chili pour arriver a San Pedro de Atacama afin d'y rejoindre la maman et le beau-pere de Mike (Sally et Richard) pour passer quelques jours de grand luxe avec eux. Toutes nos douleurs se sont apaisees dans la piscine de l'hotel Awasi et nous avons plus qu'aprecie l'eau chaude de la douche, les vins fins du Chili, et la delicieuse nourriture. L'hotel organisant des excursions chaque jour, nous en avons profite pour aller en velo le permier jour jusqu'a un lac d'eau sale ou l'on pouvait y flotter , puis le jour d'apres nous avons fait une excursion pour decouvrir les alentours, cette fois en voiture. Le pique-nique qui nous y a ete offert consistait de quiches faite maison et fraichement prepares, de salades delicieuses accompagne d'un bon vin blanc, ce qui nous a bien change de nos habituelles barres de chocolat Boliviennes a moitie fondues. Nous avons reitere notre pique-nique de luxe le lendemain, cette fois servi en aperitif, et aux bords de piscines naturelles thermales d'eau chaude. Apres s'etre bien repose jusqu'au point de devenir paresseux, nous avons pris l'avion jusqu'a Santiago, toujours tous les quatre, afin de passer quelques jours a cote de la capitale du Chili, dans une sorte d'hotel/hacienda sublime au milieu d'un domaine viticole: Santa Rita Casa Real, ou chaque repas est accompagne de ce vin du domaine. Le dernier jour, nous sommes alles au restaurant sur le domaine, pour notre repas de Noel un peu en avance. Nous avons tous pris en entree des fruits de mer, mais Mike se sentant plus aventureux pour le plat principal (ou plutot couillone) a opte pour les testicules d'agneau. Meme si elles se sont averees relativement bonnes, il a ete surpris de decouvrir apparaitre des poils sur son torse le lendemain... En verite, Mike a avoue plus tard d'avoir ete tres envieux de mon choix de coquilles Saint Jacques. Completement rassasies apres ce dejeuner, nous envisagions un diner tres leger, mais nos amis de l'hotel Casa Real ont pense differemment et nous ont prepare un diner dans la salle a manger privee de la maison, ou nous avons ingurge un autre gros repas, encore une fois accompagne des bons vins du domaine. Ceci fut une preparation du "serveur chef" de la maison, qui avait deja eu cette idee la derniere fois que Sally et Richard etaient venus et il tenait a les remercier de leur fidelite a l'hotel. Nous ne savons pas si au depart, Mike et moi avions ete inclus dans l'idee de ce diner privilegie, mais cela ne nous a pas empecher de manger comme des rois a un tel point qu'on serait cru a l'epoque d'Henri VIII. Apres un tel confort et luxe, il a ete difficile de partir de Casa Real, et de laisser tous ces bons vins derriere nous, mais nous devions partir et plus tard dans la soiree nous etions a Buenos Aires, en Argentine.

Our stop in Buenos Aires was very shortlived. Five hours later we were flying north to Puerto Iguazu and the falls which divide Argentina and Brazil. At the hostel we rejoined our more typical travelling companions, sitting by a bunch of Aussies supping beer by the pool, and were joined by Carine and Guillaume, friends of Jess from home. The falls were as incredible a site as we had hoped, particularly from the speedboat which drives you up to the face of the main fall, drenching you in the process. The national park itself is stuffed full of nature and we rubbed shoulders with coatis, turtle, aligaitors and toucans as well as a particularly stealth-like coral snake, which I later learned from Guillaume can kill a man within five seconds. Had I had the misfortune to see it when my foot landed inches from its wriggly body, I suspect you would have heard the screams in Europe, but thankfully I was too busy trying to spot monkeys and missed it altogether. You probably heard Jess though, who is famously calm in the presence of such beasts!!
In all, we spent two days and about five memory cards at the falls then headed back to Buenos Aires for Christmas.

Notre arret a Buenos Aires fut tres court, car 5 heures apres notre arrivee, on reprenait l'avion pour se rendre au nord du pays, a Puerto Iguazu, ou les chutes d'Iguazu separent l'Argentine du Bresil. A l'auberge de jeunesse, nous y avons retrouve le type de voyageurs plus typiques, genre Australiens a boire des bieres dans la piscine. Mais nous y avons rejoins ma copine de lycee Carine, avec Guillaume. Les chutes d'Iguazu se sont averees etre aussi incroyable qu'on ne l'avait imagine, surtout vues depuis le hors-bord qui nous a conduit jusqu'au pied des chutes principales, au passage nous trempant completement de la tete aux pieds. Le parc national contient beaucoup de vie sauvage et nous avons cotoyes des coatis, tortues, aligator et toucans mais aussi un serpent corail bien camoufle, que nous avons appris plus tard par Guillaume qu'il pouvait tuer un humain en 5 secondes. Si Mike avait eu la malchance de le voir quand son pied a atterit a quelques centimetres de son corp tortueux, j'imagine que vous auriez entendu les cris jusqu'en Europe, mais heureusement Mike etait trop oocupe a scruter les arbres a la recherche de singes qu'il ne l'a pas vu. Par contre vous m'avez surement entendu moi, qui reste generalement tres calme en presence de telles betes!!
Nous avons passe 2 jours complets et environ 5 cartes memoires d'appreil photos aux chutes, puis nous sommes retournes sur Buenos Aires pour Noel.

Having hoped to eat in the hotel restaurant on Christmas Eve, we were told that it was now closed and spent the afternoon panic buying in a Chinese supermarket in San Telmo for our Christmas dinner. That proved to be largely successful, but it was altogether strange for both of us to eat a cold Chritmas dinner in our hotel room, wearing shorts and listening to Enrique Iglesias on the radio. The next day was more successful, relaxing by the pool before meeting up with Elise, Stephen and two of their friends for a tango and dinner show at La Ventana. Efforts to get Jess and I on stage to dance were met with a fierce stare from both of us and we settled for a gin and tonic and a picture with the dancers instead. As is the way in Argentina, we stayed out until 4.30am and then hit the sack ready for a 9am start the next day and our trip to Uruguay.

Ayant espere diner a l'hotel le soir du reveillon, on nous y a annonce que c'etait ferme le soir du reveillon, donc nous avons passe l'apres midi en panique a faire des courses de derniere minute pour notre diner de Noel, dans un supermarche tenu par des Chinois, a San Telmo. Cette operation s'est averee avoir plus de succes que prevu, mais nous avons quand meme trouve ca bizare de diner un repas froid dans notre chambre d'hotel, en short, et a ecouter Enrique Iglesias a la radio. Le 25 etait plus reussi, a se prelasser au bord de la piscine et a flaner dans la ville completement deserte, et a manger des glaces, avant de rejoindre le soir, Elise et Stephen (rencontres en Bolivie) et 2 de leurs amis pour aller voir un spectacle de Tango et diner a "La Ventana". Les tentatives de nous faire monter sur scene pour danser ont ete vite abandonnes grace a nos regards feroces qui en disaient longs. Nous avons prefere commande un aperitif et prendre des photos des professionels! Comme la coutume le doit en Argentine, nous sommes sortis jusqu'a 4h30 du matin et leves le lendemain a 9h, frais pour notre voyage en Uruguay.

We're hoping to spend New Year on the south coast of Uruguay, before heading back to Argentina for wine tasting in Mendoza and trekking in Patagonia. From there its Tierra del Fuego and eventually back up to Santiago, through Chile. Hopefully it won't be so long for the next update.

A l'heure qu'il est nous avons passe le 31 sur la cote sud de l'Uruguay, et nous sommes revenus en Argentine jusqu'a Medoza pour quelques degustations de vin, puis nous descendons faire de la randonnee en Pantagonie, et continuant plus au sud jusqu'en Terre de Feu et nous remonterons par le Chili. Nous esperons que que la prochaine mise a jour ne prendra pas autant de temps. On espere que tout le monde aille bien et que vous avez passe un bon Noel et on vous souhaite une bonne annee!
Hope all are keeping well and had a great Christmas.

Happy New Year.
Love Mike and Jess"

Hi all,
From memory our last update was a couple of weeks ago, since when we have crossed the border into Bolivia and entrenched ourselves in the spectacular city of La Paz. Perched in the hills of the Cordillera Real, La Paz and its inhabitants (Pacenos) spend most of their time reminding you how extreme everything is. Not content with being the highest capital city in the world (about 3,640m), having the world´s highest navigable lake (Titicaca) and the highest airport, Pacenos also claim the world´s highest microbrewery, the world´s highest ski resort and the world´s most dangerous road. I was keen to add ´world´s highest level of food poisoning´, but can´t seem to find the same level of enthusiasm amongst the locals. At any rate, after the lofty Irish chap left, i think i´m the world´s highest ginger and, if nothing else La Paz is providing a good, high-altitude base from which to enjoy Bolivia´s adventure sports offerings.

Before La Paz however, we spent a few days in the Colca Canyon looking for condors and a few more days on or around Lake Titicaca, through which cuts the Peru-Bolivia Border. The Colca Canyon is a three hour bus ride from Arequipa, itself about ten hours from Cusco and is, apparently, twice as deep as the Grand Canyon (although not the deepest in the world - that´s probably in Bolivia!). Jess and I booked a 3 day trek in Arequipa and the next day headed up to Cabanaconde on a typically bouncy bus, joined by a really friendly Dutch couple and a not so friendly local guide called Luz. After a hearty lunch, Luz led us for four hours down to our first camp, the Llahuar lodge, a series of bamboo shacks where we relaxed in hot springs and dined on fresh trout from the Colca River below. I sense the fish was not as fresh as advertised because I spent the majority of the next 24 hours with the ´Colca Craps´ and the morning´s three hour trek, climbing one vertical km felt like a route march through the desert. THe sight of our second lodge (Oasis Sangalle) was a great relief and Jess relaxed in the stunning natural pools, while I attempted to do likewise in bed. Just as I was recovering, Dan, the Dutch chap went the other way and whilst the rest of us rose at 3am for the climb back to the top, that lucky swine was carted up by mule.

In need of a rest after our exertions, we joined Dan and his girlfriend for dinner before heading to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca (15x the size of Lake Geneva). There is a funny story about a boat that was brought here from Liverpool in the 1870s, which I can´t remember, but apparently it was never used and now sits as an empty wreck on the lake shore (i´m told it was looted after it left Liverpool, but there´s no hard evidence). There´s not much to see in Puno, so we booked a trip out to the the Amantani and Taquile Islands, stopping at the floating Uros Islands on the way. The Uros islands were originally built by the Aymara tribes when the Inca´s were rampaging through South America, and whilst they are still permanent home to the tribes, the only source of income now is tourism. The experience was a little disappointing, not least because our boat sailed off without warning and we were asked to cough up 10 soles each to get on a reed boat to catch it (our guide Edwin had conveniently disappeared). Mind you, we shouldn´t complain because the islanders´ renditions of ´Trinkle Trinkle Liggle Estar´and ´Alouette´ were first class and warranted the money themselves (and that´s before they sang in Hebrew and Japanese!).

Thankfully, Amantani was a far more authentic experience. Because Amantani has no hotels or restaurants, visitors are hosted by a local family who cook meals and provide ´entertainment´, by way of a traditional night of dancing in the village hall. Islanders are somewhat dependent on the humble potato and in three meals we ate potato soup, boiled potatoes (quite a bland meal), fried potatoes and potato pancakes (no repeat of the Colca complaint here unsurprisingly), but were treated like local kings and enjoyed our time with Jorge, Juana and their young grandson Oliver enormously. In return we supplied a bagful of lollipòps, five of which Oliver polished off before dinner and, if nothing else, did our bit to keep the dentist in funds. The next day we headed for Taquile where celebration at having shaken off money-grabbing Edwin was shortlived when we realised we had no idea where the boat home was. An hour or so later (and probably a few quid better off) we found Edwin and the rest of the Group and headed back to Puno.

Having booked our bus for La Paz, we headed across the border without any problems and arrived in Copacabana (apparently this is the original after which Brazil´s is named) where we stayed a couple of nights. We booked another trip to the Isal del Sol, as legend would have it the birth place of the Incas, and set sail the next day walking from north to south before watching the sunset over the lake at our hostel. The island was deserted and we only met other people the next day when we turned up for our boat two hours early, and bumped into some Belgians who made the same mistake (we met them again in La Paz incidentally). It was a long wait considering we only wanted to go to a peninsula and walk back the 20km to Copacabana, but was made worse by the fact that, having convinced the captain to drop us off en route, he decided to charge us twice the price with only the limpest excuse. The walk back was definitiely worth the extra cost though, I have to say.

Titicaca-d out, we headed for La Paz accompanied by a host of Irish, two of whom we dragged all over the city with us in search of a hostel and had dinner with that night. After a somewhat inevitable bout of stomach trouble, we managed to book our trek up to the summit of Huayna Potosi, a mountain 6,088m (19,975ft) high (Kilimanjaro is 5,895m). We were joined by a Scot, who I couldn´t convince to do it in a kilt, and his kiwi girlfriend both of whom were thankfully complete novices. We were armed with crampons, ice picks and the rest of our equipment and spent the first day practicing on a glacial wall. That was easy and we all grew in confidence ahead of the next day´s hike up to ´refuge 2´ (5,425m).

Nothing crushes your confidence more than carrying a 15kg pack for three hours up a rocky mountain side and when we arrived the second refuge at 5.30 that afternoon we were all quite tired. We went to bed at 7.30pm having been warned by previous groups that we would have no sleep because of the onset of headaches from the altitude, and sure enough when we all rose at midnight to start the ´technical´ part of our trek, we had collectively had about three hours. Our kiwi colleague was unable to start the second day as a result of the altitude, and standing freezing in our crampons there was a part of us that was jealous at her being able to stay in her sleeping bag. However, attached by rope to our guide, we set off on the slow trudge up to the summit, reaching it five hours later after straddling 30m crevasses and clambering up shear rock faces. The summit itself is a tiny area and we took photos as the sun rose, then quickly descended sending rocks falling onto a somewhat agrieved party of Germans below.
Five more hours later we arrived back at base camp, everyone agreeing that it was the toughest experience of our lives, and drove back to La Paz for some sleep!

Next up its a cycle down that dangerous road and then on to Sorata for more treks, Potosi to see the mines and Uyuni for the salt lake. Hopefully this one is also available in French!!

Hope all are well - Love Mike and Jess.
x