La Paz

We had been told about the amazing view just as you came over the hills into La Paz, with the city sprawling out in front of you as far as the eye can see. However, as we got in at 5am, we were all sound asleep, and in any case the sun had not yet lit up the cityscape.

We drowsily jumped in a taxi and dropped off Deb at her hostel. Luckily our hostel let us check in and get some kip - they even fed us breakfast when we eventually managed to crawl out of bed.

Grabbing a map, we set about walking through the bustling city. The bumpers of the mini buses and cars were stuck together in gridlock, exhausts spewing out black smoke from their old, worn out engines and horns trumpeting in vain. The pavements were overflowing with both young, fashionable Bolivians and their older, more traditionally dressed counterparts, as well as plenty of gringos, creating a strange kaleidoscope of people.

The main road runs through the bottom of the city like a dried up river, with the connecting streets rising either side like tributaries running off the steep hills. We walked right along the length of the main street, marvelling at the mish-mash of buildings, and found our way to the San Fransisco cathedral where we bumped into Deb. She was going to San Pedro prison that afternoon, and so we though it would be a good idea to go too.

After having a further mooch about the city, we made our way to San Pedro Plaza (just outside the prison), where it seemed like half of the gringoes in the city had congregated. We met up with Deb, and was ushered around the corner by a shifty looking guy who promised us a "tour". We knew that the tour was officially illegal, but we didn't realise just how cloak and dagger it all was.

Two by two we were called into the prison, as apparently a steady stream of gringoes looks less suspicious than one big group going in together. As there was about 50 of us trying to get in this was quite a long process. When it was our turn we scooted around the corner, trying to look inconspicuous, passing the heavily bribed police outside, and in through the imposing front gates. We were in a bit of a daze, as we weren't sure where to go, with inmates clawing at the gates shouting out various things in Spanglish. We were crammed into a tiny, dark room like cats in a sack (thank you Elbow), with the stench of urine stinging our noses. Here we "registered" by giving our names and passport numbers, paying our money and getting our arms signed by one of the guards.

We were split roughly into three groups of fifteen. Our tour was done by one of the inmates, and we were "guarded" by a further four inmates from the rest of the prison's population. They took us around the various neighbourhoods of the prison, each with it's own distinct indentity. It was such a surreal experience for us to be walking amongst murderers, rapists and other criminals. What was even stranger was that their familes, both women and small children, were also with them, and that they had shops, streets and bought/rented cells of varying class. We had not read the book, but Marching Powder is set in this prison and is apparently a very graphic portrayal of daily life in San Pedro.

Two and a half hours went by, and we had had a very extensive tour of the prison. Finally we were ushered into a tiny cell where they offered to sell us coke and/or weed. This process seemed to take a very long time, and what we didn't know was that they were stalling. Eventually they told us that the press were outside and we had to wait until they had gone before we could leave.

Some 45mins later we were lined up in the courtyard ready to leave, only to be taken to another, larger room where we were reunited with the other groups. Here we waited for a further hour, with various stories flying around. One minute they said the press was there because of a politician being locked up, then it was because there was a dangerous criminal they wanted to make sure was behind bars, but finally they settled on the fact that it was because they wanted to "pap"gringoes coming out from an illegal prison tour. It was now around 7:30pm - at this point they told us that if the press had not gone in half an hour that they would transport us to a large communal cell an hold us until midnight. By now we were getting fed up, hungry and thirsty.

They moved us once more, this time we had to crawl through dimly lit back passages to sit outside the warden's office. Here we stayed for another hour or so, until eventually we were given the all clear. Before we were ferried to the back gate we were told that due to the troubles this would be the last tour of San Pedro. Single file, we made a dash out of the iron exit and to our freedom, running down the road away from the threat of the press. We have heard from various sources that the since that night no gringo tours have operated and the warden has been sacked.

We eventually arrived back at the hostel at 10pm. We were gutted that the San Pedro experience had eaten heavily into our St Patrick's night drinking time, so we ordered a beer each and toasted to our release whilst getting ready. The night that unravelled was pretty alcohol fuelled and hilarious. The three of us plus a couple of English lads from our hostel started at Wild Rover (Deb's hostel), and when this closed at 1pm we continued to a really cool club called Mongos. Here both gringoes and locals danced and drank together and we all had a great time.

It reached about 4am and it was time for this place to close, so we all jumped in a taxi and went to an "after party" club called Blue. When we got there we weren't sure that it was the right place as all we could see was a roller shutter, but before we could say, "St Paddy" the shutter lifted up to reveal a blue-lit room with a bar. We only stayed in there for about an hour before we decided that we'd had quite enough excitement for one day and went back to the hostel.

We awoke the next day feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges, and so the two of us along with the two English lads went to an English pub where I had pie and mash and James had bangers and mash. OK, so maybe not the most cultural thing we've done so far, but it was very much needed. Later we topped the night off with a further Peruvian cultural experience by having a curry, which was pretty bloody delicious!

Next morning we had a saunter down to the witches' market and did a bit of shopping for Alpaca clothes. We also managed to book our bike ride down "Death Road" for the following day. I was starting to feel decidedly dodgy in the tummy region, but carried on as normal.

There is a great park in La Paz, which is quite a trek to get to. We meandered up there, and walked along the top enjoying the cracking views it had across the city. The park also houses an excellent and rather large childrens' playground, which many of the local children and parents were taking advantage of.

We later met Deb out for some Swiss Fondue, which was totally delicious, but I think this was the straw the broke the camel's back and my stomach took a turn for the worse. By the time we went to bed I was resigned to the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to make the bike ride the day after.

James got up at the crack of dawn to try and rearrange the trip for the following day, which he was able to do. Whilst I spent the day between the bedroom and the bathroom, James spent a frustrating day trying to upload photographs on a very slow internet connection. By the evening I was up again and we went to a Thai place where James had a delicious meal, and I had rice - I was just glad to be able to eat food.

We got up for the bike tour early, and made our way to a cafe where we met a couple of English guys and a Kiwi lady. We were given breakfast before being picked up by our guide, and jumped in a mini bus to pick up the rest of our group. It took around two hours for us to climb to our starting point, where we were issued our padding and waterproofs, along with some kickass bikes. There, in the cold and rain, we were given a briefing, outlining safety measures and road conditions. Then, off we set.

The first part of the ride was pretty safe. Sure, there were no barriers to stop you plummeting over the edge and into the cloudy abyss, but the road was wide and smoothly paved. We were able to pick up pace and get through this in no time.

Then, the official "Death Road" started, which apparently over ten tourists have died attempting to do this very ride. We were warned that the first half an hour of this was the most trecherous, and they weren't wrong. The first section of the road, which snaked around the side of the mountains, was narrow, extremely steep, littered with slippery stones and had perilous 500m+ drops.

The road then became slightly less dangerous, although the crosses still lined the roadside with some frequency. I think we all became more confident, and with this confidence came more speed. James said he was surprised just how fast I was going, especially as I told him beforehand that I would be going at snail's pace.

We stopped for quite a few stunning pictures along the way, as well as having much needed snacks. Although the weather was much drier and warmer due to our quick drop in altitude, we were still managing to get wet as we rode through large streams and small waterfalls; it was just so much fun.

Then, about five minutes before the end, my concentration slipped and so did I. Luckily the shin and elbow pads protected me, and I managed to escape with only a few bruises here and there. We rode into our destination 4 hours after setting out, pretty tired but immensely satisfied, stripping off our clothes and sitting in the sun with cold beverages.

We then spent the rest of the afternoon at a local hotel, having a filling lunch and relaxing in and by the swimming pool. We were dropped off in La Paz that evening, free "Death Road Survivor" T-shirts and photo CD in hand. We hooked back up with Deb for dinner to exchange Death Road stories (she had been the day before with the same company, Vertigo). We all agreed that it was well worth the money and that we'd recommend it to anyone.

We got to bed relatively early in preparation for our short bus journey the next day to Lake Titicaca.

Southern Bolivia

After crossing the border we had to trek around for a while to find a way of getting hold of some local currency, but we eventually managed to get our grubby little hands on some Bolivianos, and booked the bus for Tupiza.

We bumped along the dusty road through the mountainous scenery, peering over the steep drops nervously. Both the roads and the transport had taken a rapid drop in quality, and with it the comfort levels had also plummeted, however this was only a short 5 hour journey, and we soon rocked up to the tiny town.

By this point Mel was starting to feel ill with another cold, which was probably exasperated by the altitude. We had climbed up to 3500m above sea level, and were just starting to feel the effects. Whilst Mel had a rest, I explored the town - and was back within half an hour though, as Tupiza is really quite small. I had also started to develop a chronic headache, due to the altitude, so decide to have a rest also.

It was during dinner that we bumped into three English people we'd met at the border. They too were planning on going north to Uyuni and doing a Salt Flats tour. Thought it would be a good idea to travel up together so that we could present ourselves as an almost complete group of 6 (maybe giving more bargaining power). Also joining us was an Aussie girl called Deb from their hostel, which made us complete.

Our three days in Tupiza were very relaxing and we didn't do much apart from wander around the town and generally relax, in an attempt to aclimatize to the altitide. We had read about the effects one can experince when at great altitudes but there really is nothing you can do to prepare yourself for the headaches, digestive problems, bad night sleep and shortness of breath, as is it something that only occurs when you are at altitudes of approx 3000m plus. After three days we departed Tupiza, with our newly made friends, and headed to Uyuni. The bus journey was 8 hours and the scenery along the way was pretty spectaular, winding our way around the Andes with the snow capped peaks on the horizon.

Upon our arrival in Uyuni we were accosted by a number of touts trying to sell us tours for the Salt Flats. We opted for a fellow called Luis as he was offering a good tour at a reasonable price and was offering a free nights accomodation. We were due to embark at 10am the following morning.

The tour started a little late the next morning, but that was a combination of our slow breakfast and our jeep needing a valet. We eventually got going at 10.45am, and the first stop was the Train Graveyard!

Our friend Ian, who was in our group, was particulary excited about this part of the tour, and he really was in his element when we got there. The Train Graveyard is exactly as it sounds, a place where trains go to die. All the trains in the graveyard had been dumped there due to them being supersceded by new technology. They had been there for approx 50 years and the bolivian people had no intention of moving them!

Our next stop was the Salar, which we were all very excited about. We drove for about 20 minutes onto the Salar, across the seemingly neverending desert of salt until all we could see in every direction was white salt being met by the snow capped mountains on the horizon. The sight was truely astonishing and incredibly beautiful. Armed with several props (e.g. a toy dinosaur called Trevor, a bottle of Jonnie Walker, etc.) we got to work on composing some of the most bizarre photos we could think of, which was a great laugh.

We left the salar all covered in dodgy white patches from lying and rolling around on the damp, salty ground and headed to a place called Fish Island. It is known for it especially large giant cacti that completely infested this tiny island, which is marooned in the middle of the salt desert. We stopped here for a couple of hours taking a walk around and having a great lunch.

After a 2.5 hour drive across part of the Salar we arrived at our accomodation for the first night, a Salt Hotel. As the name suggests the hotel was built entirely out of salt, which looked amazing, and it was in the perfect position for us to go and watch the sunset over the mountains. That evening, after watching the sun set, we were served up a fantanstic meal and we spent the evening laughing and drinking before going to sleep on our salt bed.

The second day of the tour was an early start, we left the hotel at 6am for our journey further South down the Salar. We started the day by visiting a couple of local caves. The first cave was very small but very impressive, it felt like we were on an alien planet, as the rock formations were very unusual. The second cave was called the Devils Cave and had been used as a tomb by the Incas, which had once been filled with mummies, but unfortunately they had all now been removed.

After leaving the caves we traveled for approx 3 hours to visit a series of stunning mountain lakes approximately 4300m asl., all of which were inhabited by wild flamingos (including one species calles "James"). We stopped here for yet another delicious lunch before making the long journey to Laguna Colorado. Before we reach the Laguna we visited "The Rock Tree", which is a wonderful rock sculpture created by the extreme weather conditions it has been subjected to. It is located in what can only be described as a sand desert about 4500m asl. on a plateau in the mountains. Here it is extremely cold and the wind is fierce. The stop at the rock tree was swift as for the previous hour we had been watching a huge cloud slowly decend upon us and snow had started to fall.

By the time we reached Laguna Colorado the snow had began to fall in earnest and the temprature was dropping rapidly. We couldn't even see where the lake was as the cloud and snow was so think. We all piled into our hostel, which had no heating of any kind and was built in a pretty rudimentary manner, so the brickwork had huge holes, the windows were single glazed and the roofs leaked. We knew we were going to be in for a cold night so we popped to a tiny store next door to the hotel and purchased a couple of bottles of red wine. Forunately the meal we had was again delicious and we were given another bottle of wine, which gave us three to finish between 5 of us, as our friend Deb was feeling the effects of the altitide and had gone to bed early. We spent the night finishing the wine, playing Uno and shivering. Fortunately Mel and I had taken our sub zero sleeping bags so the night was pretty comfortable for us.

On our last morning we awoke to find all the surrounding mountains and terrain covered in a thick blanket of snow. We jumped into our jeep and made our way to the Geysers for sunrise. Neither Mel or I had seen a geyser before so the prospect was pretty exciting. The geysers were at our highest point yet, 5000m asl, even higher than the summit of Montt Blanc, so the headaches came back again for most of us! The whole area was a mass of steam from the boiling water within the geysers and this was exacerbated by the freezing temperatures. It was very beautiful there, and when the sun began to rise it lit up the snow covered mountains around us for a truely stunning sight.

When we could no longer feel our feet we left the geysers and headed to the hot springs for a thaw out. When we arrived we all found it pretty difficult to get our kit off in the freezing cold, but once we realised how warm the water was we all soon jumped in. The sun had just come up and with all the surrounding mountains covered in snow it was pretty satisfying sitting in the lovely warm water in such lovely surroundings and with snow on the ground.

After the hot springs we had breakfast and headed off the to climax of our three days, Laguna Verde and Laguna Blanco. The route to the laguna was stunning and again it was made even more beautiful by all the snow that had fallen the previous night. The Lagunas did not disappoint, Verde being the most stunning, mainly due to its constrast against the completely white mountians behind it. After taking a few pictures at the lake a couple of other groups turned up and we proceeded to have a snowball fight, which is bloody hard work at 4500m above sea level - the lungs started to burn after 10 minutes. We departed Laguna Verde and made the short journey to the Chilean frontier as three of our friend, Ian, Emma and Hilary, were making their way into Chile. We said our goodbyes at the border and started our 8 hour drive back to Uyuni.

The three of us left in the jeep thought, "Great! We can stretch out on the way back and catch up with a bit of sleep". Our driver, however, had other plans. He managed to pick up four Bolivians and squeeze them into the space, leaving us feeling pretty cramped. We were not too happy about this, and eventually he agreed to find alternative transportation for one of them.

Halfway through our journey back to Uyuni I noticed our driver was starting to get a little weary and kept nodding off to sleep. As soon as I noticed I began to talk very loudly to everyone in the jeep in the hope it would keep him awake. This worked for a while but we ran out of conversation after a couple of hours and his eyes started to roll again. Mel also tried to engage in Spanish conversation with him, but it was pretty limited due to the communication barrier. We thought enough was enough so we told him to pull over to get a 10 minute break. During the break I decide that I would offer to drive for a while, which he took me up on, so I jumped in the drivers seat and off we went. I was only driving for 10 minutes before a demented llama decided it would run out in the road infront of me. Fortunately due to my great driving skills and lightning quick reactions I managed to avoid the crazed llama. I drove for about 40 minutes in total before stopping to let out driver take over again.

We were only about 30 minutes from Uyuni when our driver stopped the jeep, put his head out of the window and sighed. Yes, the inevitable had happened and one of our tyres had blown out. Fortunately another jeep was passing and they helped our driver replace the tyre. Before we knew it we were back on the road and in no time back in Uyuni. We were pretty tired so we went out for some food and a couple of drinks and got our heads down for the night, as the following morning we were off the the highest city in the world.

We arose the following morning and I was on a misson to say the least. Liverpool were playing Man United, and I had to watch it. I managed to find a hotel with ESPN and settled down for the match while Mel and Deb went to get some supplies for the journey. It was a great match and the mighty reds demolished the feeble United 4-1. I was on a real high! Shortly after we jumped on the bus bound for Potosi, which would take us 4 hours north.

When we arrived we were really pleasantly suprised. Potosi was much more of a colonial town than any of the other Bolivian towns we had visited, so it was full of beautiful buildings and lots of narrow winding streets lined with wonderful buildings. It was really quaint and we fell in love with it straight away and decided to stay a couple of extra days.

We spent the first day just exploring the city and wandering around its labyrinth of tiny streets. The city is the highest in the world at 4050m and is very hilly, so walking around it is pretty challenging and it doesn't take long to lose your breath. When we returned to the hotel we found out that the local football team, Real Potosi, were playing the following day in town so we decided we would take in the match.

The following morning we visited La Casa De Moneda, a muesuem in Potosi, which has the reputation of being the best museum in Bolivia. It had great exhibits of Bolivian minting machinery and religious art. After a couple of hours at the museum and a few hours walking the the town we made our way down to the football stadium. We got into the ground quite early as we wanted to soak up the atmosphere and watch the ground gradually fill. It was approx 20,000 capacity, and soon started to fill. We were really interested to see how energetic the players would be when they got on the pitch due to the extreme height they were playing at. The Bolivian national team are well know for being hard to beat on home soil as other teams really struggle to keep the same pace due to the thin air. The players were as energetic as any other game we have seen, but the quality of footy was slightly lacking - it was like watching Man U playing Everton. The crowd were not as crazy as we expected, except for one small segment at the opposite end of the stadium, but it was nice going to the match with the locals. After the match finished we made our way up to the lookout tower on the edge of town to watch the sunset while having a few beers.

The following day I had opted to go on a mine tour. Mel decided against, as she had a cold and going down a dusty mine was certainly wasn't the best thing. The silver mine in Potosi was once the biggest silver producing mine in the world, making Potosi one of the riches city in the world.

We entered the mine at an altitude of 4300m, so the combination of the thick dust and the thin air made it extremely difficult to breath, and the further we went into the mine the more difficult it got. The mine is divided up into 5 different levels, the fifth being over 250m deep into the mountain. The guides only take visitors down to the third level as it is too hard for tourists, who are not used to the conditions, to breath. We ventured down to the third level and came across a number of miners working. It was quite shocking the conditions under which they work, it is very primitive and very tough. Everything they do is by hand, they shovel by hand, they chisel the holes into the rock to plant the dynamite by hand, they pull the rail cart by hand etc etc.

After 3 hours in the mine we had all had enough and could not wait to get out. How the workers do 10 hour shift after 10 hour shift is really quite amazing. When we emerged out of the mine our guides gave us a demonstration of dynamite explosions. They also added some amonium nitrate to the dynamite to make it more powerful. We all joked about the health and safety risks with doing the demostration, and how it would never happen in the UK, US or another country that was bound by the all the red tape that restricts us from doing anything fun! The explosions were huge and made us all jump out of our skins.

After that it was back to the hostel to get a much needed shower before hopping on our overnight bus to La Paz.

Northern Argentina

After leaving Santiago and Chile, our first stop back in Argentina would be the wine capital of the country, Mendoza.

The bus journey was 7 hours and went from one side of the Andes to the other, so we knew we would be in for a real treat. The journey did not disappoint as we wound our way through the mountains and eventually reached Parque National Aconcagua. Fortunately the sky was clear and we were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the majestic peak. The gigantic Aconcagua stands at a dizzying 6962m a.s.l., and if the Himalayas did not exist, Aconcagua would be the highest peak on the planet.

When we arrived we found the town of Mendoza buzzing, as it was celebrating it's annual wine festival. We immediately knew we were going to be in for a cracking couple of days, so we quickly settled into our hostel and headed into town.

The city of Mendoza has a central plaza, Plaza Independencia, and the street that runs North and South of Plaza Independencia is pedestrianised and lined with countless cafes and bars, which are perfect for kicking back with a bottle of wine and spending a few hours people watching and discussing the next couple of weeks of your travels, so we did exactly that. By the time we had finished the bottle of vino blanco we decided it was too late to go back to the hostel for a shower and so stayed out for food to make the most of the festival.

We found out from tourist information that an area of the city had been dedicated to an outdoor wine tasting event and that the fun began at 8pm. WHen we got there we discovered that the event housed approximately 40 wine producers from different areas of Argentina and spanned 2 streets. We were in heaven! For 20 pesos (4 pounds) you could try 8 different wines, 6 young wines and 2 prestige wines, from any stall of your choice. Me being me got rather excited and dashed up to the first stall to get my first taste, while Mel carefully picked through the list of wine producers and the wines they had on offer to ensure she made the most of it. I then found out that you did not just get a taste of the wine, but a whole glass, so I curbed my excitment somewhat and decided that I would pace myself, with my other seven tokens in my hand!

The atmosphere at the wine tasting grew as the night went on and by 11pm it was in full swing, and so were we. There were many Argentine families around, and the little ones were enjoying the atmosphere as much as the adults. At one end of the festival a stage had been set up and a trio of musicians, consisting of a violinist, a double bass and a pianist, were sound testing. So we got our 5th or 6th glass of wine and took our outdoor seats on the bails of hay and listened to the trio, who turned out to be absolutley amazing. 1am had passed and we were starting to feel slightly jaded from the 8 glasses of wine each and the 7 hour bus journey we had taken earlier that day, so we made our way back to the hostel as we were due to get up the following morning relatively early to hire a couple of bikes and spend the day cycling from bodegas to bodegas doing some wine tasting!

Needless to say, we did not rise early that morning and eventually managed to get our bikes by 1pm. By this time we were both feeling a bit better and ready for our first glass of the day, so we jumped on our bikes and headed off the to the first bodegas. We slowly cycled along the quite roads over looking the vineyards with the snowcapped Andes in the background. The setting was beautiful and the day a great one, not just sampling wine but also chocolate, liquors, olives and sundried tomatoes along the way.

The following day we took an overnight bus 14 hours north to a town called San Miguel de Tucumán, or just Tucumán for short. We were only stopping in Tucumán for a little over 24hrs as there was not a huge amount to see in the town. This turned out to be just about the right amount of time, as the town had a pretty central plaza but not much else, so we used the time to relax in a few little cafes and bars and eat some tapas, a great way to re-charge the batteries.

The next stop was a little town called Cafayate, which stood at a little over 1500m a.s.l. in a valley in the Andes. The microclimate generated within the valley was perfect for the growth of grapevines, so this area of Argentina is known as the best place in the country for the production of, yes you guessed it, wine! Cafayate is only tiny and all of the bodegas are situated within the town, so despite our 5.30pm arrival, we still managed to fit in visits to two bodegas, one of which, a producer named Nanni, was outstanding, and we decided to purchase a bottle of Rosé to go with our dinner that evening.

Our hostel had a huge roof terrace which took in views of the whole valley and was perfect for an evening meal and a bottle of great wine. So we spent a relaxing evening drinking, enjoying some home cooked food and watching the electric storms over the mountains.

The following day we had booked an excursion along the Quebrada de Cafayate, a section of road 50km north of Cafayate, that took in some of the incredible sights of the Andes. This did not depart until 3pm so we had a few hours to squeeze in a couple of wine tasting sessions. We visited a vineyard, which much to our delight, was harvesting, and we got to see the process of grape selection and crushing in action.

3pm soon arrived and we headed out on our excursion. The Quebrada really blew us away as we took in some dramatic rock formations, which were amazing in shape and colour. As the Andes are extremely rich in minerals and variations of rock type, it possesses a huge amount of formations that have been shaped by the extreme weather that occurs in this part of the world, and this combination produces some amazing sights.

After a couple of days in Cafayate we departed to head further north to the city of Salta. We had heard many good things about Salta from other travellers and we were not disappointed. It was a lovely, clean city with a really relaxed vibe and some beautiful architecture. We spent our time in Salta wandering the streets, looking at the lovely buildings and stopping at various cafes in the central plaza for expressos. In the East lies Cerro San Bernado, and after climbing the 1070 steps(apparently) to the summit you reap the benefits with stunning views of the city.

Our next stop on the jouney towards the Bolivian boarder would be a tiny mountain town called Tilcara. This sits at just over 2500m a.s.l. and is famous for it's stunning location within the Andes. Talcara is a town typical of those featured in western films in the 50's, with its dry dusty streets and half constructed - half demolished buildings. This aside the town is very pretty and quaint, which we loved, so decided to stop a couple of nights just to relax and enjoy the small town life of Northern Argentina. The town is only 4 hours drive south of the border, so the influence of Bolivia can be seen in the faces of the people and the food served in the restuarants i.e. llama steak.

Our hostel had amazing views down over the town and of the mountains beyond. After a hectic week and a half of travelling through Northern Argentina this was the perfect place to slow the pace down a relax a little. The town has some beautiful ruins in the east, which also had a great panorama of the valley, and a colourful cemetary in the North. There was also a crazy festival going on in town where the local played music (badly!) on a variety of instruments and sprayed each other with shaving foam. We never did find out what the festival was in aid of.

After leaving Tilcara we headed 4 hours north to the frontier town of La Quiaca, where we walked across the bridge over the Rio La Quiaca and into Bolivia to start the next chapter of our travels.

Easter Island

OK, sorry but this entry is going to probably be a bit long and very photo heavy. Just to give you and idea about the extent of the photo snapping that we did on the island, we changed our batteries on the first day, and by the fourth day the red "your-batteries-are-about-to-die" light started to flash.

In the airport we bizarrely ended up sitting next to an English couple, Amy and Eric, who are best mates with one of the guys we'd met in Valparaíso. We got chatting and agreed to meet the night after for drinks.

After landing we were picked up by the people who owned the campsite. They adorned us with fresh flowers, which despite the slight tackiness was pretty sweet. When we arrived we were really stunned. The ground had the most perfect setting, only 20m away from a small drop into the sea, and the waves crashed below us with mesmerising force. There was also a large outdoor dining area and a veranda dotted with chairs and tables facing out westward to the distant horizon. We pitched our tent in a prime position, and immediately started to walk up the coastline in search of Moai.

So much mystery surrounds the island and it's massive stone heads. Easter Island, or Rapa Nui, is one of the most isolated inhabited islands on the planet. It is made up of three extinct volcanoes, which lends the landscape lots of undulating volcanic scenery. There is much speculation of exactly when, how and why these were created and transported by sheer manpower. Whatever the answers, this was an impressive a feat.

It didn't take long for our first encounter with one as there are two statues just ouside of the main town Hanga Roa. We found a site further north where there were ahu (alters) with two solo statues, and then another ahu supporting five more. We spent a lot of time marvelling at these and taking a ridiculous amount pictures from all different angles, despite the fact the the light was not with us. We knew that we'd need to return one of the mornings to get some decent snaps.

Day two saw us hiking up to Ranu Kau, the vocano nearest to the town. Whilst this was only 410m above sea level, James pointed out how much tougher it was trekking in the 30C heat compared to the cooler climates that we were accustomed to. It didn't help that there was little or no shade for most of the walk, but this did make for some beautiful vistas of the town below us.

When we reached the top I think we both took a sharp intake of breath. Sun glinted on the crater lake below us, where thick totora reeds had weaved patchwork patterns across the surface of the water. There was a large section missing from the opposite end of the crater, where the sea had bitten chunks out of the side of the dead volcano, giving a perfect view of the electric blue pacific ocean on the other side.

Further round we entered the Orongo ceremonial village, which was created for worship by the birdman cult. The houses are cylindrical and overlook some beautiful islands just offshore. There were also some fastinating stone carvings of bird men perched right on the edge of the vertical drop into the ocean, and the views were incredible from here. These guys sure knew how to worship!

That evening we cooked dinner at the campsite and sat on the veranda watching the sun slowly sink in the sky. The waves had become even more ferocious, and dramatically crashed in front of us, whilst way in the distance the sun drew closer to the horizon. Whilst the sun was a golden ball, the clouds began to turn stunning hues of pinks and red, and my fingers couldn't click fast enough trying to capture the ever changing scene. The sun gradually crept below the horizon, and we walked along the shore enjoying the remnants of the paint pallet sky as we went to meet up with Eric and Amy.

The four of us went for some slinky little pisco sours (famous Chilean cocktail) in a couple of local bars. However, the lack of places open and the crazy prices kept us sensible. We hatched a plan to hire a 4x4 on our forth day, and so arranged to meet up with them again the following evening to sort everything out.

On day three we started hiking north to view the moai we'd already seen, but this time in better light. Continuing north and the path became less obvious as it was not well trodden, hugging the coastline, and even cutting precariously close to the edge of the steep cliffs. We were struck by how many horses had been left to roam free and feed on the coastline.

Eventually we came to a peninsular with fabulous views. There were also pitch black caves that we were unable to explore due to the fact we'd forgotten our torches. Further north the landscape became more rugged, with grass growing through the troughs of lava and volcanic rocks covering the area like giant black marbles. We found a huge ahu with many moai which had been toppled down.

Cutting inland we went to Ahu Akivi, which is a fantastic alter with seven standing moai. These are the only statues on the island which look out to sea, and apparently during the Autumn equinox the sun sets directly in their eyeline. After taking at least a million photographs (OK, maybe a slight over exaggeration) we started the long walk back to the campsite.

The forth day saw our adventure in our 4x4. Luckily Eric was driving, as I would probably have hit every pothole in the road, and James would probably have used every bump as a launchpad! The island is that small that we were able to drive from one end to the other in around 20mins, but we had so many sights to see that it took us considerably longer than that.

We started by visiting the many ahu and fallen moai dotted along the southern coastline, after which we were treated to a visit to Ahu Tongariki, the largest alter on the island. It was restored after a tsunami hit Rapa Nui, scattering the pieces inland. With 15 standing moai in total, perched alongside the cobalt blue sea, the sight really is a gem. There we sat, munching our packed lunches and relaxing in the sun.


We digested our lunch at our next stop, the volcano Rano Raraku, which is often called the "nursery" of the moai. This was the qurry where most of the stone for the moai was sourced from. We read that there were nearly 400 moai located in the area, and looking along the slopes we could easily believe it. Even from the distance the giant sculptures sprouted up from the ground, including a huge one which was lying on it's back as if sunbathing.

On closer inspection we were even more taken aback my how prolific the moai were, and just how close we could get to them. Some were partially burried , others jutted out at odd angles from the ground, but all were beautifully crafted. There was one moai which stood out as it had legs (none of the others do) and a goatee beard, and it is believed that this is one of the latest carving to be created.

We took the short walk into the crater, which had another lake and scores of horses. It felt like we'd stepped onto the set of Planet of the Apes, as the scenery was so otherworldly. Here there was a labaryth of unfinished moai, which we were able to get even closer to. You could almost see the different stages of creation, as some appeared to be closer to completion than others. We tried to get our heads around how they had been able to carve and transport these to the various sites around the island, it really was unbelievable.

Our day was completed with a trip to Anakena, a beautiful beach on the North side of the island, which had, you guessed it, another ahu with standing moai. By this point our main focus was on relaxing on the silky sands and plunging into the cooling ocean.

Amy and Eric came up with a brilliant plan; the next morning we should get up to see the sunrise on Ahu Tongariki, which is supposed to be one of the highlights of the island. So at 6am they picked us up, all of us still rubbing the sleep from our eyes whilst bumping along the coastal road. We were surprised to see how many others had had the same idea as us.

There we waited, scoffing our breakfasts whilst awaiting the sun. As the sky started to lighten we began to wonder whether the clouds were too thick for the beams to break through, but our patience was rewarded. Bright amber light illuminated the sky, silhouetting the 15 statues perfectly. It was well worth the early morning scramble out of bed, and really was one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

After saying our goodbyes to our new friends, we packed up and caught our flight back to Santiago. James was particularly sad to be leaving this strip of land, and we agreed that we'd recommend a visit to everyone else we met during our trip.

Only one night in Santiago before heading back into Argentina - a land flowing with the good stuff....