5 day Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu

DAY ONE

Yet another early morning to be had for the Salkantay trek, but at least our tour operator had the decency to pick us up from our hostel. It was a bit of a slow start to the day whilst we waited for several things to be put in order before we set off in earnest. On the way we were able to catch sight of the impressive Salkantay peak. We hoped that we would be blessed with such a great view once we were up close and personal.

Our minibus took us to a little town called Mollepata where we were to eat breakfast before starting our trek. Carlos, our tour guide, then told us that we would be catching some local transport for the first part of the walk. We were a bit disappointed by this as we were expecting to get cracking on our hike, but when the truck turned up it ended up being quite good fun. We bumped up and down on a very muddy track, trying our best to stay balanced and not fall over each other too much.

We were going along great guns until the truck became stuck in one particularly muddy part of the hill. He reversed and tried again a few times. I think we'd still be there trying if it wasn't for one of the group suggesting that we all jump out and try to line the path with branches and twig to give it a bit of traction. So, off we all went, gathering what we could find to throw in front of the truck. He tried again to roll over, but without success. That's when it got serious and the machete came out. Suddenly the locals started chopping down huge chunks from the surrounding trees - the two Aussie boys Jules and Ollie also had a go with the blade. Eventually, when we had a small forest lining the path, the truck was able to pass through, accompanied by lots of whoops and cheers.

Finally we were set down, and started to walk for the first time. The mountains rose majestically either side of us as we walked through the valley. We knew we only had a couple of hundred metres to climb in around two hours, so it wouldn't be too strenuous that day. I think all the group felt pretty breathless after the first climb, but it soon flattened out to a muddy track. During the last half an hour it started to rain, so we were glad to see our campsite all set up and waiting for us; the horses and some of the staff had gone on ahead of us.

After drying off a little we sat down to a deliciously filling lunch. I noticed that Jen, the American girl in our group, was pretty quiet throughout. After lunch we were supposed to go for a short walk to a nearby lake, but due to the bad weather conditions this didn't happen. James and I went for a bit of a scout around anyway, but soon made our way back to camp when we saw a huge cloud quickly creeping across the valley floor towards us.

Unfortunately Jen didn't make it to dinner that night. She had started to have some altitude sickness, which wasn't good due to the fact that the next day was due to be the toughest. The rest of us had a hearty meal and got to bed pretty early in preparation for the hard slog.


DAY TWO

Another ridiculously early morning rise. We started the day packing our bellies with much needed fuel, and then packing our bags. We started walking at a decent pace, which we were able to keep up despite the start of a rapid climb. Whilst James was the constant pack leader, I just took things steady and constant. This enabled me to keep up for the most part with the Aussie lads, and leave the two 18 year old girls somewhat trailing behind! Jen took things at her own pace too, and did an amazing job of pretty much keeping up with the rest of us, despite still suffering with the altitude.

The morning's climb took us to the pass which was the highest point of our trek at 4600m above sea level - the highest that either James or I had been in our lives. When I saw James standing next to the sign showing we had reached it I felt such a sense of achievement. It was here that we should have been able to see the beautiful peak of Salkantay, but the inclement weather would not allow it. Whilst it had by no means been a walk in the park, it was nowhere near the despairingly difficult climb that I had imagined. Apparently I had just missed Deb (our Aussie mate) who was also doing the Salkantay trek with another group.

We stopped briefly for photos, but couldn't stay too long. It had taken around three and a half hours to get there, and we had another couple of hours before we reached our lunch tent.

For the next two hours it was raining heavily as we started to drop back down, which meant that at times it was slippery. The lunch tent was a welcome sight, as we were all soaked through and tired. We had made the morning section of the trek in good time, so we were eagar to get the afternoon section of the hike out of the way. We set off straight away after lunch, and Carlos told us that we had approximately five hours of descent ahead of us.

The path steeply swept below us, and we soon found our way into the jungle. Not only was there a difference in the scenery, which was lush and green, but we also felt a quick rise in temperature. We made camp in only four hours, which has got to be some kind of a record! The camp ground was incredibly impressive, as our tents were flanked by four green mountains - it was so picturesque. There were only around a dozen other people camped there, so that all added to the charm as well.

I think we all felt like we deserved a good feed that night, and was glad that the hot grub kept coming. We also celebrated with a few beers, which was perhaps not the best way to rehydrate from the day's exertions, but it felt good to let our hair down a bit. We also managed to get a campfire going, and the group talked and laughed over the flames. Megan and Deanna, the two young Canadian girls, got pretty drunk that night, which was entertaining in itself. James and I went to bed around 10pm, and left the young 'uns to enjoy themselves!

DAY THREE

This was the day of mud. We only had to walk around six hours, but this was a tough day, especially as I was feeling a little delicate from the beer the night before. Whole sections of the path were impassable and we needed to find alternative routes for much of the time. We would try to walk around the edge of a bog and I'd put down my walking stick for support, which would just squelch into the mud and keep sinking.

The walk took us further into the heart of the jungle, passing waterfalls and crossing over fast flowing rivers. There were also beautiful wild flowers, including orchids (my favourite blooms) and Cantutas, the national flower of Peru. We eventually reached a small town called La Playa, where we had lunch. It was here that we said goodbye to the horsemen, who had to return from the direction we came. We couldn't believe that they had to do it all over again the opposite way.

After saying our farewells we caught a minibus to another town called Santa Teresa where we would camp that night. Dropping off our things and grabbing our swim gear, we left almost immediately for the hotsprings that were just 10 mins drive away. Here we spent several hours relaxing our muscles in the warm waters. It was beautifully set in the bottom of a green valley, with the steep side of a cliff on one edge of the pool. As the sun set we began to see the twinkling stars above us, and I think we all felt pretty lucky to be able to enjoy the surroundings. Carlos somehow managed to drag us out of the pool to get us back to camp for dinner, which was as yummy as usual.



DAY FOUR

I think that we got "done" by our tour guide on this day. We were supposed to walk to a place called Hydroelectrica, where we should've caught the train to Aguas Callientes. Somehow we managed to get dropped off by minibus, and continued to walk for only an hour and a half to Hydroelectrica, where we had lunch.

In the afternoon we then walked for a boring 3 hours along the traintracks in the pouring rain. Whilst there was lovely scenery around us, none of us could really look at it as we had to concentrate on balancing on the slippery sleepers, which were not even at a consistent distance from one another. The boys made a bit of sport for themselves and took to throwing rocks at signs and posts along the way. Who would've thought something so simple could create so much amusement?

After what seemed like forever, we found ourselves coming into Aguas Callientes. This was a real tourist town, as it's sole existence is down to it's proximity to Machu Picchu. We checked into our hostel like a group of drowned rats, but after a shower and a change we were back out again having a couple of cheeky pisco sours before dinner. The dinner at the hostel was a huge buffet, and the boys did us proud by scoffing several plateloads between them.

DAY FIVE - MACHU PICCHU

We had asked Carlos the night before what time we'd need to get up and out to make sure that we were on the first bus at 5:30am to Machu Picchu, as he was adamant that we shouldn't walk up there. He assured us that because it was off peak season that we'd be OK to get in line at 5:15am. How wrong he was. When we arrived the queue was already ginormous, and our hearts sank. It was important for us to get up there quickly, as they only allow 400 people up Wanyu Picchu, which affords a birds eye view of the whole of the lost city. It was hopeless.

Luckily Ollie spotted someone near the front of the queue who he knew. I'm ashamed to say it, but all seven of us pushed in. It's not something that any of us would normally do, but we felt so cheated by our guides bad advice, plus we figured this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, that we felt it necessary to be brutal. This meant that we found ourselves on the second bus going up, which in turn meant that we were near the front, waiting for the Park's gates to open.

As soon as they did we wasted no time in marching straight to the other end of the city, only pausing briefly for a few snaps, where we queued for the Wanyu Picchu tickets. We managed to get entrance tickets for after 10am. This was perfect as we were able to explore the rest of the site before other tourists (e.g. from the Inca Trail and the tour buses) got there, and this also gave the clouds a chance to lift.

We were taken around the city by Carlos to a few different sites, and he explained the historical context. We managed to get up to the guardtower, which is a lookout point over the city (this is the view that is found on most postcards). It was then time for us to climb up to Wanya Picchu, which we had been told would take around an hour.

Surprise, surprise, James managed to steam ahead of us, and then Jools and Ollie left us girls behind too. Even taking it steady, the rest of us managed it in around 45 mins, but it was a steep climb and quite slippery at times. Once we got up there we had fabulous views across the whole of Machu Picchu, and it really gave us the sense of the sheer size of the place. We stayed up there for around 15 mins, but it started to rain so we started the clamber down. If we thought going up was difficult, the descent was even trickier, but we all just about made it in one piece!

We'd arleady been up there for about 6 hours, so we were all a bit Inca-ruined-out, so we sauntered back through the city to the exit. We just hadn't done enough walking over the five days, so we thought we'd top it off with a walk back down into town, which only took us around an hour and a quarter. We finished off the day with another massive buffet lunch before getting a train and a bus back into Cuzco. Although we were all relatively tired, we agreed to meet up that night for a few drinks to celebrate Jen's 30th birthday (which was the day after), as well as finishing the trek.

After a much needed hot shower and a change out of our muddy trekking clothes, we trotted out to town to grab something to eat before meeting up with the rest of the group. We got Jen's party started by lining up the drinks for her, and Deanna and Megan were sweet enough to buy her some apple pie, which was the closest thing to cake they could find, with a candle. Even our mate Deb was in the bar with a couple of people from her trek. We were having a really nice night, but after only a couple of drinks I started to feel dodgy. We had to leave pretty quickly thereafter, and the walk home wasn't pleasant. I was feeling extremely nauseous with crippling stomach cramps.

We got back and went to bed, but between the pain and visits to the bathroom I didn't sleep a wink. Needless to say that the next day we were unable to make it to the other Inca ruins as planned. I spent the next couple of days in bed recovering, whilst James tried his best to look after me.

I was eventually able to get up and have something to eat, which felt really good. I was thankful that it had only been short spell and not too serious - we had heard absolute horror stories from other travellers who had needed to take antibiotics to recover from their upset stomachs. We caught the over night bus back to Arequipa that night, but this time went with a reputable bus company. We certainly appreciated the difference, and it felt like sheer luxury to be able to travel without hats and extra layers on!

Cuzco

After a long, arduous and horrible journey we eventually made it Cuzco. It was by far the worst bus ride we have taken so far on the trip. The bus was that cold that Mel and I were both wearing hat, gloves, 2 or 3 t-shirts and a fleece, and our teeth were still chattering. Half way through our journey we also saw a bus crash, another bus heading to Cuzco, on which we later found out were two people from the UK we were sharing a dorm with in La Paz. The girl had factured her forearm and dislocated her wrist.

When we arrived we hopped in a cab and made it to the main plaza, where grabbed some breakfast, and as we hadn't eaten a proper meal for 24 hours, we decided to splash out. We sat out on the balcony of a lovely cafe overlooking the stunning central square of Cuzco munching our breakfast, it was a very pleasant experience after being stuck on a bus for so long.

We decided that we would take it easy during our first day in Cuzco, and just wonder the streets and get to know the city. Our first stop was to confirm our booking with the agent we had booked our Salkantay/Machu Picchu trek through. We had to meet at the office the following day at 6pm for a pre-trek meeting.

FroWe continued to visit the many stunning sights that Cuzco town had to offer. The Plaza de Armas is probably the most impressive town square we have seen in all of South America, it's only downside is the hoards of tourists that arrive by the bus load and the very persistant touts trying to sell things to the tourists. Unfortunately, as we are gringos, we get pulled into the same category as the tourists and the touts mistake us for having money and still try to sell us things.

Cuzco is a beautiful little town, full of wonderful squares beautiful norrow winding streets and lots of small children wondering around with llamas of varying size trying to get you to have a photo taken with one of the oversized sheep.

On our second day we visited some of the Inca ruins around the outskirts of Cuzco. There are four in total on the same road, they are called Saqsaywaman, Q´enqo, Pukapukara and Tambomachay. You can catch the bus to Tambomachay, the furthest from town, then walk back to town, visiting the other sites on the way.

Tambomachay is only a small ruin that basically demonstrates the Incas expertise in harnessing water and using it effectively.

The second ruin, a stones throw from Tambomachay, Pukapukara is a much larger site that was used by the Incas as an adminstration centre and fort. The ruins are perched on the edge of a hillside and have impressive views from all angles. As with most Inca ruins there are also your token llamas wondering about munching on the grass.

The third site is a slightly obscure one, Q´enko, pronounced just like the instant coffee, was used a place of worship. It has a huge natural rock formation in the middle, which has a huge cave underneath that was used for the storage of pottery.

The fourth and final site of Saqsaywaman (literally pronounced as "Sexy wowan") was by far the most impressive we'd seen that day. This huge ruin, used by the Incas as a fort, is approx 300m long and is made of zig-zag walls constructed of huge but perfectly carved stones. The worksmanship on the stone is incredible and the stones, despite their abnormal shapes, fit together perfectly. In a different area of the site there is also what appears to be a circular communal area, a bit like a amphitheatre, which archeologists believe used to be a market place.

From Saqsaywaman there are steps that lead directly down to the main square in Cuzco, so we made our way down so as not to miss our meeting. On the way down we came across a small square in which there were about 40 men all dancing and sing a song about women. We couldn't work out the lyrics but it was entertaining and interesting watching them dance around with their sticks. We managed to pull ourselves away after about 20 minutes and made our way to the trek meeting.

Once we got there we met our trekking partners, Ollie and Julian from Melbourne, Jen from San Diego and Megan and Deanna from Calgary. They all seemed like really nice people and we all hit it off straight away. The tour operator were going to pick us up at 5am the following morning, so after the meeting we grabbed some food and made our way back to the hostel for an early night to ensure we were fresh as daisies for the following morning.

Lake Titicaca - Copacabana/Puno

After 5 amazing days in La Paz we headed up to Lake Titicaca for a few days. The lake is 95km wide and over 300km long and straddles the border of Bolivia and Peru.

The journey to Copa was 4 hours and took us past the huge snow capped mountains outside of La Paz and through the countryside of Northern Bolivia. Before long we came to the smaller but equally impressive Lago de Huynaymarka, which is just south of Lake Titicaca. We then reached a little town call San Pablo de Tiquina, where we had to hop of the bus and jump on a tiny boat to be ferried across a stretch of the lake where the road cannot cross. Our bus followed us on vehicle carrying boat that looked as if it may sink at any given moment. We crossed to the equally little town called San Pedro de Tiquina. Did you notice the difference in town names? Pedro and Pablo.....very subtle. From there the veiws of the lake got better and we eventually turned a corner and got a glimpse of the beautiful lakeside town of Copacabana. When we arrived we went for a walk about the small town, which seemed to be inhabited mainly by hippes - it's a very chilled out place. On the evening we decided to climb the the top of the Cerro Calvario on the edge of town as it is a great place to watch the sun set. Unfortunately cloud started to move in and the sunset was a bit of a non-event. We did get to watch a great electric storm over the lake though.

The following day we got up early to do a 17km trek from Copa to a little town called Yampupata. We set off from Copa to the outskirts of town and soon found ourselves in the countryside surround by bulls, pigs and llamas. The scenery along the way was amazing, passing through little farming villages and climbing up to paths that hugged the sides cliffs over looking the lake. We eventually came to a beautiful bay in which we could see Isla Del Sol and Isla de la Luna. We walked down into the bay, which took us to the town of Yampupata.

We intended to spend 3 days in Copa, but we later found out that there was a strike on the road between Copa and Cusco, meaning that we would have to travel to Arequipa to enable us to get to Cusco. This meant that we were going to have to cut our stay short by a day.

The following morning we got up early to travel to Puno. It was a four hour bus journey, 10 mintues into which we had the dodgiest border crossing yet. The Bolivian border officials are known for being a little corrupt and they lived up to their reputation. Mel and I were not the unfortunate ones, instead they picked on a couple of young English lads. They tried to extract the equivilent of 30 pounds from each. Obviously the lads politely refused but the guards were having none of it. After about 5 miuntes of angry exchanges the lads managed to get the officials to stamp their passports, at which point both lads ran out of the passports office and legged it to the Peruvian border to get the entry stamp for Peru. The officials quickly hotfooted it after them and tried to stop them before they crossed the border. Fortunately the lads made it to Peru and quickly got the required entry stamp and got onto the bus. The whole episode was very comical, but also pretty serious as these officials do have the power to retain you within the country if they choose to do so. Finally the engines of the bus started and off we went, leaving the fuming border guards behind.

We eventually reached Puno and tried to find out the best way of getting to Cusco. Several bus companies were offering an alternative route to Cusco through mountain roads, but Mel rightly pointed out that this was not the best idea as the bus was an overnighter and the driver would not be all that familar with the route, plus it was really expensive. So we decided to take the longer but safer option to Arequipa, then a overnight bus from Arequipa to Cusco.

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.