After four days of intense nature appreciation we tumbled out of the jeep into the beautiful town that was Uyuni (see photo) and went on the prowl for a meal. Having consumed soley Bolivian cuisine we decided to opt for more western style meal- what a mistake this was. What arrived on the the table was not the Italian feast we had expected; three bowls of spagetti soup were sloped down infront of us. The carbonara, roquefort and pesto sause consisted of the same milky consistency and watery taste. Finding this unacceptable our friend Jeremy took a stand and refused to pay. On attempting to leave the restaurant we were blockaded by the wrath of the Bolivian Miss Trunchball.With nostrills flaring she attempted to explain in spanish that the reason the food was inedible was because he had masked all the subtle flavours with pepper. This did not convince him and a fifteen minuite stand off began. As Lucy, Ana and Grant turned customers away from the door trunchy got on the phone to the police explaining that these stupid english tourists were refusing to pay all £1.40 of their meal. As she was loosing customers by the second we managed to avoid a confrontation with the bolivian PoPo and she let us be on or way.The days and nights of La Paz merged into one. We spent 90 percent of the time at the hostel bar meeting an array of wonderful characters, worth a mention: Simon,- the don, an eccentric 50 year-old punk (specifically "not a hippie") who's never stopped travelling.. or drinking for that matter, during the course of our stay he absailed down a building and shaved himself a mohawk - absolute legend. And our first encounter with other gap-yearers in South America - Issy, Sophia and Hannah - great gals. Our only venture out of the hostel was to the famous withches market, where there was a lot of alpaca, hats, jumpers, general clothing and foetuses; big, small, hairy, bald shrunken foetuses. Surprisingly ,even Liv managed to resist the temptation of obtaining one of these goodies.
Copacabana up next, and we decided to treat ourselves and stay at this Gaudi inspired hotel place... our first night we stayed in a room that resembled a multi-layered cake, and inside evrything was round, and smooth, there were plants in the bathroom... and the beds were round, and there was a lot of hammocks and herbal tea. It all was very .. Zen. Then we went to the highly recommended 'Isla de Sol'- which was highly disappointing, I think due to the fact we couldn't be bothered to climb the very steep hill to the otherside, so we stayed at the bottom.
Finally, we have seen the back of Bolivia - beautiful nature but otherwise a bit shit; we we not miss the unfriendly people, horrible food, colourless towns or general uninspiring atmosphere, (this sounds like we had a bad time, we didn't, our bad attitude probably stems from the fact that we were there for over 3 weeks).
Out of Bolivia and into Peru, off the bus at 4am and welcomed by the freezing Cuzco air, it wasn't a great start but once we'd warmed up and had some sleep we ventured out into the town. It ended up being one of our favourite cities, really beautiful, lots of french boutiques and a great crêperie. We wandered around, went to a chocolate museum, an art gallery and saw some churches, very chilled but very nice. Other goings on in Cuzco was Liv, who after 5 days of suffering from the shits, decided to seek medical help; the hostel rang the doctor who came straight to the door and whisked her off in a ambulance to a private hospital. She was diagnosed with a parasite and ended up having to pay 100 quid for her luxury stay in Cuzco's tourist clinic. This all sounds very dramatic - she is now fine.
Next stop, big old Machu Picchu, the crowning glory of South America. Having cleverly left attaining tickets till the last minute we descended upon the only train available: an orient express style locomotive and the most expensive train ride in the world. Although it was a delight as far as train journeys go, it emptied our pockets and frankly wasn't quite as fantastic as expected. Throughout our time in South America we had been inundated with tips, suggestions and stories of various traveller's experiences of Machu Picchu and having opted out of the treks, were pretty confident that we could complete the '20 minute' climb without too much grief. Unfortunately, this was not to be. Twenty minutes crawled by and our pace slowed to not much quicker. Whilst Ana and Lucy stopped after every ten steps to half laugh - half cry with sheer bewiderment, Liv and Mill brought up the rear with Liv struggling on with a 4 day old empty stomach. Two hours later we scrambled up the final flight of steps expecting to be greeted with 'the mighty one' instead hoards of tourists wandered around filled with Inca inspired excitement. However, once through the gates the view was spectacular and we wandered through the remnants of the city, peering up at the towering mountains for hours on end. It was all magical and is another 7 wonder we can tick off the list.
And here we are, at our seaside location in Mancora. Our journey here was worse than all the Indian horrors put together: rattling over the Andes we were thrown one way then another, the reclining seats offering no protection. Milly on the other hand had a wonderful nights sleep, it wasn't until 16 hours later when we eventually pulled up into sunny Mancora that she whipped off her eyemask and claimed she had in fact slept through the entire ordeal. All right for some....
Next up, the last blog everrrrrrrrr!
