... a genuine airforce Fokker 27, Squadron I, Brigade II,
that I was about to board. I had to laugh, stupidly surprised, I didnīt
realise we would actually flying on a military plane!! The flight was a
bit bumpy but I sweated it out - through my palms! and tried to stay calm
and read. Glad to be back on the ground though I continued by minibus to El
Chaltén, home to Argentinaīs famous peaks and some more hiking for me.
A day of weather enforced rest and a 3 hour practice walk, got me ready for
me mission up to the beautiful rocky peaks of this stunning area in
Argentinaīs National Glacier Park. I started out at 8.30am in a transfer up
Electrico River, and although it was drizzling and I was pessimistic about
the weather for the day, the sun peaked out at us as we started up the
valley by the Blanco River. There were clouds and darkness all around and
towards where we walking, but the sun was on our backs and followed us all
the way up this enchanted forest valley where I was lucky enough to come
across a giant woodpecker with his blue crest. Leaving the magical forest
behind I started up the steep slope to the lake below Mt. Fitzroy (Chaltén)
which was covered still in clouds when I arrived around 12.30 and sat in the
sun, eating my lunch willing the clouds to blow away. Well the van driver
who dropped ups off was right in his prediction and my wish came true,
because the clouds were clearing and the majestic peaks came out for us to
view in an hour or so and made the whole hike up there worthwhile.
Norwegian Margaret and I reluctantly left Fitzroy and his brothers and made
the pleasant journey through more enchanted forest and glades by lakes to
finally see Mt Torre piercing the now blue sky like a needle. I wish there
had been time for me to go up to the lake and glacier, but with the sun fast
retreating to slip behind these sharp points, I had to start getting back to
the hostel so as not to have to stumble in the dark. The sun set, casting
shadows from the high clear peaks and putting orange colours across other
lower snow covered mountains, and a big smile on my face for having
completed a full and satisfying day hiking with the sun following my every
move.
  
Beautiful sunrises and sunsets seem to be a common phenomenon in this part
of the world and I was blessed enough to see a stunning sunrise leaving
Calafate to see the impressive Perito Moreno Glacier. The horizon behind
the sleeping town was literally on fire, as it had been the night before,
but with orange and pink outreaching to the clouds around the whole sky. As
the fire on the horizon slowly died down, amber and yellow lit up the day
and clouds, it was spectacular. The glacier itself is enormous and amazing.
It advances down the ice field to the lake, to end in a 60 meter high wall
of blue and white ice. As one of the worlds only still advancing glaciers
you are enthralled watching as huge chunks of the wall fall and go crashing
into the water below with the sound of thunder. I watched the glacier,
mesmerized for hours. The following day on my way out of Calafate, on the
much more conventional Argentinean national airline I was privy to another
fantastic natural light show, this time sunset. The horizon was once again
burning red hot embers into orange, yellow, green, blue, and dark indigo of
the night sky; a full spectrum rainbow on the skyline with one bright star
shining proudly. I couldnīt take my eyes from it.
The closest I had gotten to going on a big night out recently was when I
chose to eat at an Asian/Argentinean buffet/BBQ with live music from a
traveling gaucho (cowboy), families singing along, and a menagerie of
stuffed animals including foxes and alligators all around, so the by the
time I got back to Buenos Aires it was time to go out proper and get
stonkered. Arriving on a Saturday night meant that I was straight onto the
booze and out to a 3 floor nightclub with some cool Brazilians boys Iīd met
at the hostel and I cut up the dance floor until we were asked to leave for
closing time! Yay, party, party, you need a good blow out every now and
again. As always the following day (what is left of it by the time you drag
yourself out of bed) is a bit slow and I decided to hang out in the district
of San Telmo, which is antique city of Buenos Aires where the streets were
full of old stuff for sale and buskers. There was an old lady one man band
act with tap shoes for tapping, plastic cups for drums, a plastic symbol,
plastic horn thing, doing songs from the 20īs, 30īs, she was great!!! An
ancient ugly big blond woman dressed up in sluttish tango and holding a doll
by its hair was a stark contrast to the amazing puppeteer with his old drunk
puppet, drinking, singing and dancing. This city is tango everywhere, and I
finally got my official tango lesson (I was complemented on my form) before
getting back on the road north again.
I was disappointed when I got to Mendoza to learn that I had missed hiking
up Mt. Aconcagua by a few days. This is South Americaīs highest mountain
coming in just under 7000 meters above sea level, but I had missed the end
of the season and was by no means confident to have a go on my own. So in
lieu of missing out altogether, Tracy & Jen (who I had caught up with
again), myself and Irish Iefa hired a car and took a drive up to the big
mountain and its neighbouring area. It was a great day trip amongst the
ever changing colours of the barren rocky mountains. The different change
of brilliant colours of the rocks because of their composition, minerals and
vegetation was stunning and played tricks on your eyes at times. Seeing
Aconcagua turned into more of an exercise in been there done that because
she was nestled behind other mountains and we didnīt go close enough on our
walk up the viewpoint to really understand her size. The highlight of the
tour had to be the natural bridge, called the Inca Bridge, right beside a
thermal springs. Once the site of a very plush hotel, which collapsed under
a huge landslide the bridge is still nonetheless impressive and beautiful,
all yellow and red and grey rock with its stalactites dropping down with
incessantly dripping water. The colours and contours of the partially still
useable baths were like nothing I have seen before.
Salta was the last Argentinean city on my tour, and ended up staying over a
week. With the last successful road trip in mind, Tracy, Jen, myself and
this time Colin decided to hire a car for a couple of days to see the local
area, but what a fiasco it turned out to be! We were conned into getting a
big 4x4 Cherokee that ran on both LPG Gas and Petrol. Filled up on gas, off
we went, with me making sure they had explained the Gas/Petrol situation
fully to me. Well, to cut a VERY long story short 3/4s of the way to our
destination, at the beginning of the scenic part of the route, we ran out of
gas (well we thought so) and were towed by an awesome local guide, Pom pom
60km to the town we were heading for. Being well pissed off with the rental
agency for telling me we would make it to this town with full gas tank, and
clearly we hadnīt I called them and let them know because of this we would
be back later so as to catch the scenery we missed. But with more time on
our side we decided that it would be nice to go back the other way, and as
we had filled the also empty petrol tank up, right up, we went off up the
dry dusty dirt road happily on our merry way. It was a long way round, and
as we reached the summit of our journey around 7pm we ran out of petrol!!
Yes, thatīs right, ran out of petrol, even though the gauge said it was
still full and we had tried to put more in at the last town. Jen and I
hitched back to the nearest town, got more petrol and a lift back up (70kms
away) with the local police, who helped us put the petrol in the car, but to
no avail, it still wasnīt going properly, and I had to very carefully drive
most of the way back in 1st or 2nd gear, depending on which one I could get
it jumpstarted in. We didnīt arrive back in Cachi till midnight, and the
chief of police, Victor Alberto Epifanio and his crew took care of us, got
us a room, argued with the hirecar people and organized a mechanic to come
in the morning to look at the car. I spoke with the mechanic and he took
only half an hour to find out what had been wrong all along... are you ready
for it... the bozo who hired the car to us had told us the wrong way around
for the Gas/Petrol switch!!! Yes, the whole time, when we thought we had run
out of one thing, it was actually the other and vice versa, and the reason
the petrol gauge said it was full is that it was full, overflowing in fact!!
I was embarrassed and angry and relieved all at the same time. The final
frontier was having to argue with the hire car asshole when we got back to
Salta. But with all the stress (being the only one to speak Spanish had
made the ordeal a lot more heavy for me) etc, I burst into tears at a timely
fashion and we ended up recouping a few dollars and leaving all glad to be
rid of the vehicle, and not quite believing the extent of our adventure over
the last couple of days. Because you see there is more:
Cachi, where we stayed the second night, and where the car ran out of gas is
well known in Argentina and certain parts of the world as a UFO and alien
sighting hot spot. While Tracy and Colin waited for us on top of the hill,
at Piedras Molinas, they had some wine, took some candles from the chapel
for light and played chess. Colin took some pictures with his digital
camera to eternalize the moment, and what appeared in the pictures (5 of
them) behind Tracyīs shoulder looks so much like an alien face it is too
spooky for words. Personally I thought it was a trick of the light, but
when the police saw these pictures, they had the UFO expert in town come and
show us his videos of moving lights in the sky, and also had the museum
analyze the photos. There are certainly those who believe, and who am I to
say, but if Colin sends me the pictures, I will upload them and let you
decide for yourself.
Back in normal Salta I enjoyed an awesome horse ride with Jen, and crazy
Enrique, who fed us shots of whiskey all the ride, wine at lunch, coca
leaves, and beer towards the end of the trek and went on at length of the
merits of a healthy sex life. The horses and countryside were excellent
too, and I yeehawed and woohooed, lasso arm waving, galloping along, feeling
like a genuine cowgirl. The rest of the weekend went just about as fast as
the cars in the first stock car race of the season we watched on Sunday. I
loved being out with all the racing engines, and thought of all the men in
my family who would have loved being in the pits with us, and looking at all
the cars.
Crossing the border into from La Qiaca Argentina, into Villazón, Bolivia was
fairly painless except for the early hour of the exercise. It felt great to
be in a what felt like a real South American country again, with all the
indigenous people about dressed up in their traditional clothes, street
stalls everywhere. And although I loved Argentina it is the most European
country in S.A. and doesnīt feel as culturally rich as the others on the
surface. Our first port of call in Bolivia was the small town called Tupiza
which is near where Butch Cassidy and Sun Dance Kid were last known to roam.
On our first day in the town, we went for a horse ride and canyon hike,
and it really felt like I was in the Wild West. It is so arid and dry out
here, and there are amazing rock formations everywhere, which inspire names
like the valley of the gnomes, the devils door etc. Then on our second day
we decided to go hunting Butch and Sun Dances trail and the corral in which
they spent there last night hiding from the military who were hunting them
after they had robbed a local wage roll. Because they had robbed the pay
roll of one Boliviaīs richest landlords, he had been able to get the
government to lend the military to track them down and kill them. Well we
went through some amazing scenery to get to the town which now replaces the
landlords mansion and estate, but our guides got lost from there on in and
we traveled far and high, dirty dusty roads, remote villages, stuck on
impossible tracks, flat tyre, and then low and behold they stopped, pointed
to a stone corral a few hundred meters back and decided that that was it!
Bollocks was it, but for posterityīs sake we went down to have a look at it
and I found an empty rifle shell and decided it must be from the shots fired
at them by the army; although this was apparently not there last stand as
had previously been promised. Jen, myself and the Canadian chicks (Patty
and Alyson - who had accompanied us since Salta) made the most of the
situation, as there was nothing we could really do about it. Our half day
tour had all of a sudden turned into a 6 hour drive about and we were happy
to return, have a shower, and get on the train to Uyuni.
I heard quite a lot about Uyuni and its Salt plains from other travellers
who had been there and we were all excited to be finally going to see them.
It was differcult trying to decide on a tour company, we just wanted one
recommendation from another traveller so we didnīt have to leave it to
chance alone. There are a lot of agencies in Uyuni and it seems all them
have an equally good and bad reputation. Finally though someone told us of
a good one they had taken for a good price; Wara del Altiplano. We went in
and talked to the guy, I tried to bargain with him, but he wouldnīt budge
from US$65 which was $15 more than the guy we had talked to said, but we
were pretty pleased with the sound of the tour and that we could do it all
in three days. The following morning the only thing left for me to do was
to burn all my photos onto CD so that I could wipe the memory card and have
room for all the stunning views I was gearing up for. This turned into a
fiasco which set the seen for the rest of the day till the end of the tour.
I only had an hour to sort my camera out, loads of time supposedly, but when
I got to the shop that was going to do it for me, she didnīt have a computer
to burn with and told me just to wait for 5-10 minutes as her husband was
coming with it. However he didnīt show, so she said we better go and look
for him, okay, but 10 minutes there to the military base, waiting while they
fetched him, and he said not to worry he would be along in a minute. 10
minutes back to the shop, to get a couple of CDs, then around the corner to
her house, to wait for husband. Having already lost about 40 minutes I said
that maybe I should start the process and get the photos downloaded onto the
computer, no problems there, husband still not back, so I said maybe we
should just do it which actually meant I had to do it as she didnīt really
know how, which I managed to believe it or not, even in Spanish and got 2
CDs burned off with 5 minutes to spare, paid up and off running out of the
house and husband was only just coming in! So when I got back to the hostel
to find myself locked out of the room and all the girls gone I almost
freaked. I had to pack up my stuff still, and although I knew the
combination for the lock I had no idea of how to use it! This meant that I
had to go to the agency where we were meeting grab one of the girls go back
to the hostel sort my stuff and then get back to the meeting point only to
discover there was some kind of confusion going on with prices of the tour.
And this is where it gets really interesting...
...it seems the other two on our tour had only paid US$55 for a four day
tour, and I had a bit of a go at the agent saying that it wasnīt on etc and
he should refund us all $10 but he wasnīt having that and told the two poor
aussies that if they didnīt lie to us about what they had paid him, he was
going to boot them off the tour! Over and above this, I had to question him
about why he had put 2 people doing a four day tour (heīd originally told us
they were only going to Chile making it only 3 days) and 2 people doing a
three day tour in the same jeep, surely that didnīt work. However he
assured me that there was another group of Germans and English who had paid
from La Paz and they were going to swap into there jeep on the third day.
Moreover these Germans had paid in La Paz $85 which compensated the others
he had given a discount too. I told him I thought that was bollocks and
tried my hardest to get him to refund us some money, but he was stubborn and
ended up just saying that if I was not happy with it, I should go elsewhere!
It being nearly 11 oīclock and all our stuff packed into the car, we
decided to bite the bullet and just get going. Pissed off about the whole
affair and the slimey little bastard getting his way, it was hard not to
think about it, but I forced myself to start enjoying the scenery instead
and forget about it for now, I could always have another go at him when we
returned as our packs were in his agency we had to return to get them before
moving on. As we moved onto the salt plain itself and left Uyuni behind I
moved my mind to our surroundings and decided to leave the problems behind
with it and enjoy the trip!
The salt plain is amazing, and our rally driver Primo was out onto it
catching up to the other vehicles in no time. We stopped at a small
settlement on the outskirts where they process and package the salt with
very basic machinery, then a little further out by the salt mountains that
they stack up for transport, passed by a salt hotel, then further still to
some springs in the salt bed, till our lunch stop at Fish Island or
Incahuasi which is an island in the plain covered in cacti.
  
It is an amazing view from onto of the mountain of the 12,000 kmē salt field
that used to be part of the sea until it was separated from the ocean when
the Andes rose up. This inland sea slowly evaporated leaving this salt
field and many others in this area of Bolivia and Chile. As the island used
to be under the sea there are coral like formations all over it and it is
like you are walking under water without all the fish and the water
obviously. The island where we stayed the night was similar except has been
inhabited for centuries, proof of this being when we went to see some
Tiwanaku tombs complete with mummies 500BC -200AD. This night we stayed in
a salt hotel. The entire thing and its furniture made out of salt; salt
beds, salt tables, salt chairs, salt bath cubicles etc. I slept very
comfortably despite the fact that I had recently learned that there was NO
other tour group of Germans etc, and that we were stuck with the problem of
the 3-day and 4-day tour groups in the same car. Was there no end of the
lies this guy had told us! Considering today had been so successful since
heading out of Uyuni and it was only day 2 tomorrow I decided to worry about
it tomorrow.
An early start saw us off racing, leaving the salt behind and approaching
the Altiplain with its colourful lakes, flamingos, desolate scrubby lands,
and the impressive colours of the volcanoes and mountains, which looked as
though someone had dropped their paint palette on them and it had dribbled
and seeped down, creating beautifully aesthetic colour flows. We also
passed some very Dali-esq rocks protruding from this desert land including
one famous one that looks like a tree. Our final destination of the day
brought us to Lake Colorado in which we almost killed ourselves in hysterics
trying to walk across it and getting hilariously bogged down in the grey
smelly mud. The lake looks pink at times due to the algae in the water on
which the flamingos feed. (The algae are what the flamingos feed on which
make them pink too.) I donīt understand how they survive up here though as
it was freezing!! Literally below zero at this altitude almost all the time,
only made slightly bearable by the sun, but when it goes down, rug up! We
drank and played card games to shut out the cold. I also chewed on coco
leaves which really help with the altitude, cold and most ailments actually.
To give you an idea of how cold it was, our 4x4 froze the next morning not
more than a couple of kilometres from the hostel and we had to heat water up
to put it in, to thaw it out, and then wait for that to cool down before we
headed off again. It seems they īhaveī heard of antifreeze in this part of
the world but donīt start using it till winter!! And we were apparently
experiencing an abnormal cold spell for May which caught them by surprise.
But to help us warm up, our first stop on our huge day 3 epic were the
geysers and then the hot pools where I was the first one to strip off and
get in the bath temperature waters. We couldnīt laze too long though, as we
had to get Patty and Alyson to the border of Chile in time to catch the bus
and see if we couldnīt find another truck to swap our 4-day couple too. My
wet hair promptly froze when I got out of the water and I seemed to be
covered in little red mites, but luckily apart from paranoia they didnīt
seem to cause too much damage after the initial itch fest.
Arriving in the border just in time we luckily did find a jeep that could
take our 4-day tour guys as long as we took a couple of theirs directly back
to Uyuni with us. I was so thankful to our driver and his wife Estelle (our
cook) for being so kind and trying to help us with all the shit the agent
had given us. We headed off and with any luck we would be back in Uyuni
around 6-7pm. With the way Primo drives this shouldnīt have been a problem
except that half way home in the middle of nowhere we broke down! Our shock
absorber under the front left wheel had snapped and the axel was at an
impossible. Still able to drive, albeit slowly (not that Primo really
understood the word slow) we spent 2 hours getting to the next town where a
very dodgy repair job was made with a pick axe head and rubber rope. On our
way again, this temporary fix didnīt hold up to the pressure, and 20minutes
later we were again in the same situation as before. Slowly-ish again we
approached the next town. It was well dark now and already around 7pm but
they did their best to mend the problem once again, and as we drove off once
more bouncing around the dirt tracks (hardly could be called roads) and
laughed nervously when we hit the bumps, the new contraption held and we
finally made it back to Uyuni at 10pm! Having gotten up at 5.30am, this has
been a hell of a long day, so when we got back to the agency to retrieve our
bags and found that it was locked up tight, the agent nowhere to be found,
the hostels refusing to take the credit of the agency who said they would
pay for our fourth night in Uyuni, no hot showers, let alone clean clothes
to put on after, a freezing cold night and then being accused of not paying
the hostel guy, I lost it and ended up going off my nut and shouting at the
guy in as many Spanish expletives that I could remember. After all this, it
is not really surprising that the following morning (when we had a bus
leaving at 10am to Sucre) the agency was still locked up with our bags
inside and apparently the agent had left to go on a holiday!! Could this
get any more infuriating? The driver and his wife, Primo and Estelle,
turned up and said they would help us break down the door if they had to, to
get our backpacks out, but luckily some guy charged with the key came along
and started on about how he had been waiting for us till 8pm the night
before at which point Estelle launched an attack back at him telling him to
leave it out, as our tour had been a stuff up from the beginning because of
this agency and that they had sent word that we would be late because of the
breakdown and to just leave us alone! I asked him for the money the agency
still owed us for the accommodation etc, and he just went blank saying that
he had only been given the key with instructions to let us in for our bags.
He made as if he was going to go off and sort it out for us, but we never
saw them again, as it was soon time to get on the bus and I must admit I was
happy to be getting away from the whole nightmare. At least the tour itself
and scenery had been great.
After all the roughing it and it also being Jenīs birthday, when we got to
Sucre after the 9 hour spectacularly scenic bus journey, I decided that I
would shout us into a plush hotel for a change, with running hot water, real
beds with real pillows and a TV and breakfast service. Wow what a treat,
and at Ģ5.50 each a night I thought it was well worth it!! We hit the town
to celebrate and spent the whole next day (public holiday so dead anyway) in
bed, nursing hangovers and gorging on television in English! That pretty
much set the scene for Sucre, and I didnīt do too much there but chill out,
except go to visit the dinosaur tracks they have in a huge wall just outside
the city. The wall was discovered as the government is exploiting the upper
layers of soil for cement. Unfortunately they continue work at the site
with dynamite making the wall crumble and they are loosing some of the
prints previously discovered. Unesco is trying to help by proposing to
cover the wall with silicon, as it is the worlds largest dinosaur track
site. It really was incredible and make these mystical animals all that
more real to me. You can see the tracks of four different types of dinosaur
crisscrossing on what was previously a shallow lake many millions of years
ago. The preservation is astonishing and you can see the shapes of their
feet and even the print of their claws. Feeling altogether too lazy for my
own good, Jenny and I set off towards La Paz, and Lake Titikaka.
  
It seems there are two ways of doing things in Bolivia. The easy way or the
hard way, and as a tourist it seems to be a 50/50 chance whether you are
going to be lucky enough to speak to a trustworthy person putting you on the
right track or someone who either has no idea or is milking you because they
know you have no idea. Something like this happened to us the morning we
arrived in La Paz and wanted to get a connecting bus out to Lake Titikaka.
It should have been an easy painless process, but ended up with us getting
ever so slightly ripped off and having to wait around and get sent here and
there to finally get a bus. This kind of mucking about, although inevitable
at times, is very trying after a 12 hour overnight bus rides with a dodgy
stomach, and I think it was around about this time when I first felt that I
would like to take a break from all the travelling. As much as I am still
enjoying myself and loving all the new things I am doing and seeing and
tasting, I think I am getting tired of being on the road all the time. The
road out to Lake Titikaka is a pretty spectacular one though, especially
once you get to the lake which is huge and sits on the border of Bolivia and
Peru. Because of the division of the lake, the bus has to do a lake
crossing, without passengers and you resume the journey on the other side.
Funny watching the buses bob across the water. Our first night in
Copacabana (the bolivian one) we stayed in what was probably our cheapest
accommodation by far (Ģ0.80p or U$1.25).
Copacabana is the jumping off point for the Islands of the Moon and Sun,
which are very important in Incan history as it is on the Isla del Sol that
they first Incans were put on the Earth by the Sun god and Moon goddess to
start the empire. Previous to the Incas, the Tiwanaku people also used
these islands as sacred places and there have been many precious artefacts
found that were used as offerings to the gods. It is said that there is a
lost city of gold under the surface of the lake in which Jacque Cousteau did
a dive to see if he could find it.
  
  
We visited the temple of the virgins on the Isla de la Luna and then
stayed the night on the Island of sun where there was a storm during the
night that brought hail deep enough to cover the ground like snow. However
the sunrise that I glimpsed in the morning was spectacular, and put me in a
good mood for the 4 hour hike we had planned on the mainland to take us back
to Copacabana. A beautiful day for a beautiful hike along the blue water
front which lapped at the shore as it was the sea. It felt good to be doing
some exercise again and great way to absorb the daily local life of the
countryside. We didnīt hang around in Copacabana another day, but headed
back to La Paz on one of the frequently scary bus rides in Bolivia which
test the resolve but always seem to get us to our destination in one piece,
albeit with a few frayed nerves. We were both exhausted when we got in and
Jen had been feeling a bit fluey ever since a little Indian girl had coughed
he lungs out all over Jen for half an hour. The result of this being that
we both came down with the flu, boo hoo hate being sick.
Despite the fevers and general feeling of being stuffed up, we went out and
about, and tried to make the most of our time in La Paz. Time in La Paz
extended itself when I was retelling the story of how a mangy little shoebox
sized dog had bitten me on the leg in Isla del Sol. A foreigner overheard
me telling the story and stopped me to ask me if I had considered rabies.
Well I had considered it but not very hard, and after having a read in the
guide book and talking to a few more locals about it, it looked like there
was nothing for it but to get vaccinated against the disease. I had to take
five shots in five days. This freaked me out a bit and I worried about the
sanitation etc, but the clinic I went to was fairly professional, the
vaccinations were free, and all I had to do was buy the needle each time,
ensuring it was a new one. Having a nurse as a travelling companion came in
very handy at this stage as she was able to administer the injections which
meant I didnīt have to miss out on doing the things I wanted to do. They
would only give us one to take at a time though, meaning that we had to stay
in La Paz for the duration. Stupid little dog!
It wasnīt all doom an gloom in La Paz though. There is a tour you can do
from La Paz - well tour in a loose sense of the word - where you get on
bicycles at the top of a road the call Death Road in Bolivia. This road
claims more deaths in a year than any other in the world apparently, roughly
a death a day, and the tours down contribute to that occasionally. You
start at a very chilly 4700 metres above sea level at La Cumbre, then
descend rapidly at first over the tarmac reaching speeds of about 60km/h
through spectacular scenic canyons till you reach the old dirt road. At
this stage they give you an extra briefing on how to react when you see
traffic coming up the road which has the right of way. I thought I would
just stay at the back of the pack and enjoy the scenery as we descend into
the jungle, but once on the bike and the adrenalin pumping I was soon
speeding down the mountain with the front of the pack. You come
precariously close to some dizzying drops but that just adds to the
excitement. Towards the bottom of the ride we donned dust masks and forded
a couple streams resulting in that at the end of the ride we are covered in
dust and wet from the knees down, looking absolutely hilarious. Everyones
half dust covered faces was the funniest! The ride was an absolute rush,
and as the t-shirt says, going down has never been more fun!
  
Speaking of going down (now donīt be dirty) it was down that we finally went
to the jungle! After completing my rabies shots in a bit of a rush, Jen and
I got the first plane down to Rurrenabaque to go bush and river for a while.
However our first attempt was quashed as it rained too much during the day
and the paddock of a landing feild was too muddy for safe landings. But
after waiting anxiously in the airport early the following morning we
finally borded and took off. I was again in another military airplane, with
about 40 Isrealis and a handful of other people and the flight was not bad -
you know the odd bump and sweaty palm experience, popping airdrums, but we
the landing was the highlight -coming what felt like straight down onto a
big green and mud field with water and mud flying up from under the skidding
wheels! Wow, that was exciting!
It was disappointingly a bit cold and rainy in the tropical jungle that we
expected so much warmth and sunshine from. But Rurre is a great little town
and we both recovered from our flus pretty much immediately on getting
there. The tours that we took from Rurre were excellent. One into what
they call the Pampas, the wetlands where we cruised around on boats all day
and night spotting wildlife like alligators, turtles, monkeys, sloths, an
amazing variety of birds, and pink fresh water dolphins of which we swam
with, but avoided every picture attempt I made of them. Tour two was four
days in the jungle, yay, this was it, I was finally in the Amazon jungle
having dreamed about it for years already!
First day we had to go four hours up the huge fast flowing river Beni to get
to base camp. Its virgen rain forest here, and after making ourselves our
very own amazon jungle jewellery we hiked into the jungle proper away from
the camp, away from any civilisation. It was just Jenny and myself, the
guide and our very own cook for the next three days exploring for animals
and learning about all the plants and insects around us. The amazon jungle
is not an animal spotting adventure but we were lucky enough to see wild
pigs, spider monkeys, many different types, colours and sizes of birds
including toucans and macaws, different fish including piranhas, a tarantula
(although only a baby) and of course loads of ants. Coming across the
animals or birds was made all that much more exciting by the way in which we
had to creep in the jungle (sometimes on hands and knees) to sneak up on
them. I fell in love with the beauty of the jungle in all its green glory,
the amazing ancient trees, flowers and mosses, vines (one that you can chop
a piece off of and drink water from) and all the other plants either living
in harmony or war with each other. One of our campsites was particularly
beautiful beside a small fast flowing river you could see the fish swimming
in, with the sun peaking through from gap in the canope overhead the river
had sliced. Just a 30 minute hike up from here brough us to a lookout that
took my breath away in the dying sun of the day, jungle for as far as the
eye could see except for the mighty Beni river and her yellow banks slicing
through it. At night we would sleep under a plastic sheet tied to trees or
sticks with twine made from vines or grass, on top of palm leaves and our
roll matts, with only the mosquito net between us and the vast jungle. It
was very basic camping (except the luxury of having our own cook) and I
really enjoyed it. I felt this kind of calm and happiness in my heart and
soul as we boated back out down the river. I was sad to be leaving the
jungle, but content having at least gotten to know her breifly.
We flew back to La Paz in a small twelve seater plane with a front
propeller, taking off once again from another small grassy and muddy paddock
but landing in a flash new international airport in La Paz. I only had 3
days left on my Bolivian visa and had to make a mad dash across the country
to the border with Brazil. I spent 16 hours in a bus to Santa Cruz, waited
8 hours wandering around the same city and then took a 13 hour train to the
border settlement of Quijarro, then a 15 minute taxi to the border, and left
Bolivia with not a day to spare! A journey that pretty much went without a
hitch except for the little tick who had been hitching a ride between my
toes since the jungle and who would only reliquish his dinner after I made
him drunk on pure alcohol.
So there I was back in Brazil, yay caipirinhas again, ready for a wildlife
treat in the Pantanal before I go back to in exactly two weeks!!
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