Copacabana to Cusco

From Copacabana we boarded a coach along with two other people, a gift of the gab (blatantly gay) guy from Essex with his Korean wife who does musical theatre in Korea. A funny couple. So the four of us, on the otherwise empty bus, headed towards the Peruvian border. The border crossing was easy again and within a few minutes of entering Peru we noticed the scenery was such a lush green colour. There were many different greens. Pine, mint, avocado you name it - a B&Q paint strip collectors heaven! As well as a truck containing a load of dead sheep strapped to the top in a pile.

We stopped in Puno to change buses and where our new friends told us they were scared of travelling after being held up and robbed at knife point in Buenos Aires. We told them not to be scared.

Our bus from Puno slowly made it's way in the rain through run down areas with half-finished abandoned building constructions. Then the bus stopped, a man ran into a garage, returned with a tyre and began changing a wheel just as the rain turned into a thunderstorm. Kerri's face was a picture, she hates storms and was already sketched out from the general nature of the bus.

Then three women got on the bus with their bright fabric bundles, came upstairs, unwrapped the bundle at the top of the stairwell to reveal brown paper and inside that the bloody carcass of an animal. She produced a meat cleaver and began hacking it to bits with theatrical butchering movements. At this, nobody really batted an eyelid, expect me who was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the spectacle in disbelief and amazement.

She threw the bits into bags and added a potato or two and sold them to passengers, giving them a bit of toilet roll for their sticky fingers.

If you didn't fancy that, you could buy a WHEEL of cheese.

When the brightly coloured butchers had got off, the slightly hills-have-eyes man who loads the luggage into the bus came round to check our tickets. He had a piece of toilet roll stuffed up one nostril. When the tickets had been checked he stood at the top of the stairs and sang a song which had about four different words and then came round collecting money for his performance. We gave him some soles because he had stopped singing.

Then we looked behind us and there was a man who had a bag of animal horns so Ken got it into her head that he was going to murder us with the horns.

We finally got to Cusco about 10.30pm and by this point Ken was feeling really I'll and just wanted a nice quiet hostel so we checked into the Wild Rover, notorious Irish party hostel.

Kerri went to bed and I went to the bar to get a glass of milk as we had had no dinner, saw the boys at the bar wearing about 6 different hats between the two of them because it was Monday night crazy hat party, of course, and had a baby Guinness or ten instead. 

 

Isla del sol

From La Paz we took an organized transfer from our hostel at 7.30am (because hijackings are notorious on that stretch of road if you do it at night) on a bus which seemed to be continuously beeping it's horn and driving on the wrong side of the road. We arrived at Lake Titicaca three hours later and our bus had to get into a big rowing boat and cross separately to us. It was still carnival going on and there were people dancing in the streets in mad orange, silver and blue costumes with full face masks. There were stray dogs and cows, donkeys and sheep grazing at the side of the high mountain road on the way to Copacabana and the scenery was endless green.

We got to Copacabana and tried to get some food. We walked out of the first cafe because they told Kerri she couldn't stay seated in there if she wasn't eating (the guy was English, typical).

We walked out of the second place because the waiter came to apologise for  the long wait due to it being carnival, everyone being drunk and no one being at work. (Bolivian carnaval has lasted way longer than scheduled!)

We took the boat, starving, to Isla del Sol for one and a half hours. Kerri was sat by the window so she boiled alive in the sun while I fell asleep next to another Viking type guy (only Viking by sound, not appearance like Hercules)

When we arrived we had to climb about 5 sets of Inca steps (which are huge) up to the nearest hostel, at altitude, with a 30kg backpack on. We were greeted by a cross-faced four year old girl, a fat toothless Bolivian hat balancer and a donkey who said there was room at the inn. Thank Jeff for that because the other hostels were about 18 sets of inca steps up, at least.

The BHB fed us trout from the lake while the four year old asked for some of our coca cola and told me the bumble bee in the window was dead. I gave her my sun glasses to wear and she helped herself to more coke until the BHB came in and told her off for being rude. Then we played catch with a balloon. It's easy to talk to Spanish-speaking kids because our level is pretty similar! Then she wanted to play catch with a mirror and introduced the game by running in with a mirror and throwing it on the floor which we took as our queue to leave.

The island was so quiet, we loved the contrast after the craziness of La Paz. We climbed right to the top (3800 meters altitude) and spoke to some donkeys, pigs, llamas and more beautiful dogs. So serene. It was hard to keep remembering it was a lake because of it's  vastness. It was so good to be near water again.

We went to bed at 8.30pm. Yes, La Paz was that harsh.

The next morning we woke up to an incredible view of the lake and a cold shower and decided to walk up to the top to get breakfast but the altitude killed us as we hadn't eaten since 4pm the day before and, dunno if i mentioned it but, La Paz was harsh!

We spent the day exploring the island, walked past a BHB who had a herd of llamas, donkeys, pigs and sheep all running together in mutual agreement! The llama had run ahead but the rest were tightly packed together, their heads down, a collection of different heights, colors and noises no objection, like they do it everyday. It was too funny.

We went back to the mainland and tried to go out for dinner but walked out of two more restaurants for lack of service as everyone was still partying in the main square and not at work yet. We chose a place, sat on the sofas outside and ordered from the lanky waiter who looked like he belonged in England in the early hours after a rave.

While we were waiting a dog came and sat on the sofa next to me (hiya!) and our waiter tried selling coke to passers by. 

The food was whack and we ended up running inside with it because a massive dust storm was coming up the road towards us!

We went back to our hotel and actually listened to the carnival music, which sounded like a clown laughing and a load of organs being banged at both ends. 

Ear plugs in, we went to sleep. 

La Paz

Bryn says Israelis are like rats, in that you'll never be more than 5 meters from one. True dat in SA!

So La Paz was a bit of a blur. Our hostel had a bar and at that bar you would witness things that would make the old man from Father Ted cringe.

One particular man was wearing a Hello Kittie onesie and while I was innocently trying to charge my phone over breakfast one morning, asked me in a stench of booze, what part of Australia I was from. I laughed as someone had thought I was Israeli the night before. I would be Belgian the following night. This guy had been up all night and when asked if he had been to bed, replied that he didn't know. We saw him later that day, still pissed and stinking and AGAIN the next morning looking like DEATH but still drunk. That same morning we saw people ordering shots and ciders at 9.30am. That place made us feel like nuns. 

We walked, out of breath and hungover, to San Pedro prison and sat in the square looking at it and at the queue of women waiting to get in to see their men. We noticed the policemen and Ken pointed out their really old school guns hanging from their belts and decided those guns "are the ones that really hurt". Gold.

Then we went to the witches market. It took for ever to find because the map sucked and we were hungover and out of breath and our flip flops kept coming off. It had weird dried dead baby llamas hanging up and potions for every ailment including loads of Viagra to make you "like the bull". 

We tried to visit the coca museum but it was all Spanish text and for 30bs we are not that advanced so we came out again.

The Bolivian women wear bowler hats perched on top of their head but they are slightly too small so they have no purchase on the head by being wedged on as we would wear them, no, they are BALANCED. We spent many a minute staring at them trying to fathom the secret of how they stay on (Velcro?) but came to the conclusion that it's pure skill. We call them the Bolivian hat balancers (BHBs). They probably take their advanced BHB exam at the end of May. The guys get to wear baseball caps. The women are so softly spoken and gentle and mostly have no teeth.

Walking back from the witches market we saw a clean, white jaw bone on the floor in the street. Hopefully animal!

We went to the mad opening party of a new hostel which involved shoulder rides and dancing on the bar. 

Then we cycled death road. I did it on two hours sleep because all the red bull from the godforsaken blood bombs kept me up. The bikes had suuuper sensitive breaks (we paid for the best company, no fucking about) and we received many warnings about going over the handlebars. We bombed it down, prewarned about upcoming sections of road, called stuff like "collarbone alley" because it claims so many collarbones! 

We went to a monkey sanctuary at the bottom where 150 monkeys were roaming free and had a little zoology lesson which was lovely, but Kerri's legs got eaten alive by sand flies. 

On the way back up in the minivan, our guide told us that Klaus Barbie (Hans from inglorious bastards) moved to live on death road in hiding after murdering 6 thousand in WW2. He also told us about many of the fatalities and casualties - which was nice to be told about after rather than before and we then started noticing all the crosses and memorials by the side of the road. At it's peak the road claimed 300 lives a year, averaging one a day.

In conclusion, we concluded that La paz is a shit hole but a good shit hole.

Uyuni to La Paz

The last day of the salt flats tour was the best. Driving onto the flooded dessert at 4am with the stars reflecting in it was just crazy, guys.

After we made all our mad photos crawling in and out of Pringles cans we got dropped in uyuni. When the driver announced we were here we didn't believe it because it was not a town. It was a collection of mud shacks and litter. He dumped us on the street and we tipped the driver and cook then said bye to JP after asking Donald (she doesn't have it) to add us on Facebook. He never did. Probably wasn't allowed to. One of the boys shampoo then leaked all over his bag, consequentially leaving a delightful waft everywhere he went. Swings and roundabouts.  

We had 8 hours to kill before our bus and after checking what there was to do in the guide book, which revealed a sweet fuck all, we wondered round with the boys for a bit before settling in a Mexican restaurant to get pissed. Lovely sign in the bathroom warning against cholera if you dont wash your hands. Pictures included.

When we emerged 7 hours later half cut, carnival was still in full swing outside and we had to walk straight through a square where kids were armed with water bombs, water pistols and silly string spray cans. Trying our best to be inconspicuous, the 6 of us walked in our best gringo fashion straight through them. I took a water bomb to the side of the face and Ken got a couple to the legs. We then had to wait outside for the bus (cos we got kicked out the bus station) for 40 mins while a thousand fire crackers and fireworks went off, each bang making me have to face the wall. Finally we got on the night bus at 8pm.

The woman came round giving everyone chocolate bars while Ken and I banged on our Annie Mac playlists and after a couple of plays felt sleepy but NO you cannot sleep because the road is made of boulders and you must bump up and down all the way. We started getting bumped to sleep but NO the light is back on and more locals are squeezing themselves and all their bags and kids up the stairs. Ok maybe we can sleep now it's 1am. Nope, NOW it's time to check the tickets! Now let's stop at a shop where a woman whose face is covered in glitter sells some weird cheeses and sweets. I get a bottle of orange juice and get back on the bus. 

Oh the juice has leaked all over my bag.

It's freezing. My Brazilian sarong is wrapped super tightly around my legs which only have tights on. My legs are up on the bar hanging over the stairs and shoes are off for comfort but are then back on because my tight-clad legs keep sliding off the metal bar. Legs and face have to take turns on having the warmth of the sarong because it doesn't reach everywhere. 

2am three fat local old women get on and make themselves a nest in the isle with all their blankets. I eye their blankets enviously. Then two lay down and sleep, still in the isle while the younger one hugs the stairs. 

Trying to sleep listening to Stanton warriors breakbeat/house/dnb going over bumps on seats that recline so much that you end up sliding down into where you put your feet. You are bare thirsty because of the altitude and the afternoon drinking session but daren't drink your water because there is no toilet unless you dare to go at the side of the road when the bus pulls over unannounced. 

We went past a slum at 7am, called El Alto which looked like Afghanistan. Litter blowing around dirt streets but still brightly colored Bolivian women power-housing around with their huge bundles on their backs serving hot milk at the side of the road. 

We descended down into La Paz at 8.30 absolutely fucked from the salt flats tour and no sleep on the bus where the driver released our bags from the dust cave under the bus. 

We trusted a taxi to take us to Loki and got there along with a load of Israelis. 

Salt flats day 3

Upon waking up, Ken summed up the general consensus with a concise, "Fuck altitude." Haha

Driving into vast scenery and nothingness makes you think, reflect and nurture creative ideas. Memories from long ago arise. The jeep was mainly silent for large amounts of the days as everyone pondered.

I put on "Origin of Symmetry" by Muse on my iPod and it added another dimension to the already epic experience.

We saw huge rocks shaped by the wind, had lunch on some rocks made from lava in front of another semi active volcano and drove past a big quinoa plantation near the salt flats themselves. The driver explained that the quinoa is worth so much as an export that Bolivians cannot afford to consume their own produce. The red plants are worth more than the yellow and many buyers simply turn up and demand huge quantities of it.

The previous night there had been a rumour that we wouldn't be able to see the salt flats as the drivers wanted to get back to uyuni for carnaval and were claiming they didn't have enough petrol to get us there. Luckily it was just a rumour and at the end of the third day of driving we finally turned onto the Salar, the mysterious salt desert where illusions and mirages are not uncommon and drove accross it towards our accomodation. 

Due to it's vast emptiness, it would be very easy to become disorientated in the Salar and lose your sense of direction (as well as your mind) but our driver reassured us that he had 13 years experience driving this route and that he used the mountains to navigate.

Our accomodation was a hotel made of salt. Actual salt. One of the boys licked the wall to test it. I became aware of a cut on my foot when I walked around the hotel barefoot! 

We got told that one of the jeeps has rolled over three times, sending the tourtists in it to hospital with broken bones.

I sampled quinoa beer and we were served a big last supper before going to bed at 9pm as we were getting up at 4am to see the sunrise....

Crazy flamingos day two

The second day started with Llamas, a big pen of them all chewing sideways with their matted hair over their eyes and colourful tassels attached to their ears. They were in with a flock of sheep who being naughty and trying to leave over the wall. They were told to GET BACK by a little sheep herder girl. They probably try it everyday and forget they tried it the day before, like a Wallace and Grommet film. 

We were driving in the heat along dust roads that are so dusty that we weren't allowed to have the windows open unless both sides were open, the same amount and at the same time, so Ken and I would nod to each other in some silent need-of-air understanding before allowing some dust air in. We were so dusty and dehydrated we turned into instant people, just add water dust balls. 

Later we saw a few small tornados whirling along the sandy, blue skied back drop, which was epic. Then we went to a blue lagoon, highly sulphuric to the point that if you entered it there would be a death. This was casually situated infront of a semi active volcano. So epic. Epic epic epic.

Then we saw flamingos stalking around on a pinky colored lagoon and one of the boys ended up foot-deep on a part of it where the ground was soft resulting in an eggy shoe for the rest of the trip. Gutted. Glad we weren't in their jeep.

Then we went to have lunch overlooking a volcanic pool which was 35 degrees due to hot springs running into it from the volcano. That's the same temperature as Rio was when we were there. It would have been rude not to, so we stripped off and had a bath. The tour guide of the English boys, called Raol, was in there with us and everything he said ended with "guys" and was described as "crazy". Like, "This lagoon is crazy, guys. These llamas are crazy. This lagoon is crazy, borrax, sulphur, crazy. That flamingo is crazy, guys."

Then we drove to see some geezers (alright geeeeez!) steaming out of the ground. They stank of sulphur and were super dangerous to go near as they were over 100 degrees and surrounded by bubbling grey pools of acidic death. A nasty fate would be met should anyone stumble into it. There was vapor all under the ground around the area and you could create your own geezer by piercing the ground. Nice one, geeze!

The accomodation for the second night allowed us 2 hours of electricity which went out at 9.30pm. It was quite nice to have a really basic set up. Kerri managed 3/4 of a can of beer before she was wasted because of the altitude!!

 

I had a moment with a one-year-old Bolivian girl in a walker, she came up and smiled at me.. The kids here are so cute!!! All wrapped up in loads of layers and blankets with big wide eyes and rosy cheeks and black hair. 

We ate a traditional meal of veg soup to start then a big pile of chips with beef, boiled eggs, sausages, fried onions  and tomatoes *Note to self- this would make awesome hangover food.* but we were full from the soup because the altitude depletes your appetite.

Kerri nearly woke me up to open her paracetamols because she couldn't open them because they were a child proof bottle and had such a bad headache from the nearly whole can of beer! 

When Donald woke up, one half of JP, he asked if anyone else was "glowing in the dark last night?!" One of the boys said his pillow was glowing in the dark. Magic. 

Salt flats day one

From Tupiza we embarked on our four day tour of the salt flats. We were grouped with a couple, she was from Slovenia and he was from Boston. She wore the trousers and was like the woman out of Jurassic park. So they became known as "JP" which then became "JP with cheese" whenever they had a romvom moment. It was us, JP, a cook called Porfe and the driver, Vincent, in the jeep together. On the first day we drove for 11 hours over the most epic mountainous roads and up to an altitude of almost 5000 meters. JP produced a bag of coca leaves to help with the altitude and we decided to give them another chance A) because we were all feeling it massively and B) this time they had the ash needed to activate the leaves. You roll the leaves into a ball and bite off a minuscule piece of ash, any more and it will burn your mouth. The ash made the world of difference and we got a fully numb mouth but I don't know if it helped with the altitude, paracetamol worked a treat.  The driver must have packed about one hundred into his mouth, relentlessly stuffing them in, tearing the stem out with his teeth. We drove past wild llamas and alpaccas, had lunch out the back of the jeep in front of an amazing view. Stopped at mud villages which were too basic for words. Not a single shop, just a school and a pharmacy. They have their priorities right! 

The playlist in the jeep was jokes - power ballads such as "love isn't always on time" & "eye of the tiger" etc. We drove past some kids straightening out the road and we gave them bananas and money. There were about 5 jeeps in convoy that looked so cool burning along dirt roads, on the edge of mountains, leaving trails of dust, like airplane trails, behind them. Driving through streams. 

On the first night we almost couldn't stay at our arranged accomodation, as our room was given away to a family who had just rocked up. We contemplated the idea of sleeping in the jeep but after eleven hours of driving weren't massively keen. We were in the middle of nowhere after solid driving into the wilderness all day and the option of staying elsewhere would mean another few hours driving.  Luckily they let us in and after a meager dinner we looked up and because of the lack of light pollution, saw stars... So many stars! The Milky Way! Boom. JP asked whether the stars in Southern Hemisphere are upside down? Were we seeing orians belt in reverse? Deep.

The accomodation was basic but at least we had unlimited electricity to charge our batteries.

Sleeping at altitude is harsh. There is only 60% of the oxygen at sea level so it is hard to breathe and sometimes wake up gasping for breath. I Woke up and didn't know which country I was in as they were serving dolce de leche for breakfast! We loaded the jeep and set off for more epic scenery and concentrated jeep time with JP.

Salta to Tupiza

We spent our last day in Salta in our hostel because it was raining and were set upon by three Argentina girls who reminded me of the hyenas from the lion king in both looks and laughter. They were then eating raw egg white from a tea cup mixed with cereal which smelled bad and no we didn't want any thanks haha. Then they said Kerri looked like Xuxa, a Brazilian TV presenter by day and apparently a porn star by night, so rumour has it. Mega lols. We googled her  and she has blonde hair and loads of make up! I wore my tragedy pants and new high top shoes into town and Kerri said I looked like Mc Hammer.  

 

We took our night bus with a kiwi girl we met at the station and four lads from England.  No sleep on the bus because the roads are made of rocks and it's freezing and it kept stopping and starting and letting people on and off. We arrived at 7.30am to a complete switch of scenery, a brown dusty run down town, freezing cold and at altitude. The altitude hit us immediately and we were coughing and it was so tiring to walk a few steps!!! We crossed the border easily with our gringo crew and were welcomed by BOLIVIA! 

Dusty streets, stray dogs everywhere, no roads, street food trolleys selling fried llama, women in traditional dress selling bags of coca leaves. Babies hanging off the backs of women wrapped in colourful shawls. Leathery faces. Police in brown in the doorway of the bank not letting us in. 

We found the bus station and got a jokes old rickety bus for £1.50, which looked like it once belonged to the circus, to Tupiza.

The English lads were staying at the same hotel as us so we had a new crewdem as they were planning on doing the salt flats too and then go to La Paz.

They offered us some coca leaves to help with the altitude sickness and we gave them a go by rolling about twenty into a ball, chewing it a bit to get it going then wedging in the side of your mouth and leaving it there. It was fucking rank and didn't stay in for long! Gave us a slightly numb tongue but that was it. 

We tried to go out for a burrito (Mexican food in Bolivia isn't such a great idea) and  couldn't finish anything but managed a beer and was instantly pissed from the altitude intensifying everything. So we went to bed and watched Popeye in Spanish.