La Paz

The bus left for La Paz at 730 in the evening, and was fairly uneventful until daybreak, apart for a late stop in the middle of the night for a wee and an egg and chip roll. When we awoke we realised we'd not been moving for quite a while. Turned out we were at a blockade just outside Ouro, miners this time. There were more of us than them, but they had dynamite. The usual tactic is apparently to get off the bus with your bags and walk through to the other side of the blockade (usually a few kms) and get on another bus there. However, rumours were starting to fly: there would be another blockade further on before La Paz, there was now a blockade somewhere behind as well so we couldn't return to Sucre. We stayed with the bus and were rewarded when a half hour amnesty was announced and we were allowed through, about 5 hours late by this point. When we got to the breakfast stop (around lunch time) we met again the French couple who'd been on the mine trip. They'd heard their bus wasn't going through the blockade anyway, walked for 2 hours in the cold with their packs, ridden on the back of a truck and were now negotiating to pay again for another bus to La Paz. They chose poorly, especially when on arrival in La Paz we saw their original bus pull in at the same time as us. Arriving into La Paz is quite spectacular. The city is in a valley on the plain, with huge mountian overlooking as well. As you descend into the valley you see cheap red-brick houses clinging to the steep sides... very impressive. We checked into the Adventure Brewhostel - yes, finally a hostel with its own microbrewery. It wasn't the cheapest hostel, but was very swish. We had just time for much needed showers (finally hot this time!) before having a brief walk into town, internetting and finding a place for dinner (not so easy). The problem with many of these Andean cities is that they have far too many steep slopes, especially a problem for Richard who had to keep stopping to cough up a lung. Anyway, we finally got a decent place after wandering past many shops selling dried llama fetuses (feti?), which are good luck apparently, though not for the llama. The bad luck for the llamas didn't end there as that's what we selected for dinner - and very nice too, a white meat, but quite steaklike, especially in the sauce it came with.

After dinner it was back to the bar in the hostel, as for every night in the hostel you get a free beer from their own microbrewed range, now that's civilised. We met Jodie, an English girl who we'd bumped into in the internet cafe earlier as well as Veronica from Glasgow and her friend. Veronica being this first scot I'd met in South America, despite meeting half the population of Ireland and lots of English, French and some Dutch. Anyway, a good night was had, with the microbrewed "Negro" going down worryingly easily at 7%. Things degenerated into er... Mario kart, where I performed shamefully - must have been the altitude. We left when they were very strongly hinting they wanted to shut the bar at 230am. This may not have been the best idea since Richard, Jodie and I were due to cycle down the worlds most dangerous road getting up at 630am the next morning.

So, the world most dangerous road... this is one of the big things to do while in La Paz. It doesn't come cheap, but you hope that you're getting a bike with decent brakes etc and don't want to skimp! It starts an hour or so from La Paz at a height of 4750m and finishes at a height of 1100m, so no, you don't have to do much pedaling! So how dangerous? Well 8 tourist have died on it since 2001, with many more badly injured. 200-300 used to die in traffic accidents every year but there is now a better road on the other side of the valley. Scary biscuits!

Well we turned up at the cafe we were meant to meet at at 715 rather the worse for ware, possibly still a little drunk, however, after breakfast and the bus journey we were raring to go. We were kitted out with bikes, waterproofs, helmets, goggles, gloves, and an all important snood. A safety briefing given, and the company were certainly very safe and professional. We set off on the first sections, which were on a normal sealed road, enjoying the freewheeling and getting used to the corners. The views were pretty grand, but you kept your eyes almost exclusively on the road ahead. We proceeded in shortish sections, from 5 minutes to half an hour, waiting for the slowies to catch up and having snacks and water. An hour or so in there was 2 uphill sections. We were given the option to do these in the van, as the altitude was still killer, but most declined and gave it a go. At the end of these sections was "heartbreak hill", where I think everybody had to get out and push. By this time I'd rediscovered muscle groups I'd forgotten I had, and they weren't very happy about it. After a bit more down hill we were on to the gravel track, and the most dangereous road proper. Only one lane wide, with cliffs of up to 600 ft on the side, this was fun! No really. Once you got used to the gravel you could let go a bit. There were a few rivers to cross and a waterfall to go under, and the whole thing was great fun and quite a buzz. We got to the bottom early afternoon, after descending 3600m over 60 km. At the bottom we went to an animal sactury for a free beer and a very nice buffet lunch, and a hot shower (there was also the option of a swimming pool, but our legs were very much against the 5 minute walk to get there). The animal sanctury also had some very entertaining spidermonkeys, that were desperate for attention, and threw Richards clothes in a puddle while he was showering. Obviously its not recommended that you take photos while you're cycling down, but they were selling dvds of photos the took afterwards, so I don't have any photos, but hope to get some of Richard who bought the dvd eventually. At the end of the trip we were also presented with our survivors T-shirts, all in all a very enjoyable day and a great experience.

It was a 3 hour bus trip back, and a return to the hostel bar for our free beer and to eat, after a late night-early start we were wilting a bit, Veronica popped in for her free beer eventually as well.

The next day the plan was to go to prison, the imfamous San Pedro prison no less. This is a trip that doesn't appear in the Lonely Planet or anything, but you hear lots about from travellers along the way. There is a special wing of the prison that houses all the Gringos, and some richer Bolivian prisoners. They pay to get into this section, and pay for their rooms, a varying amount to the last occupant depending on how good it is. They have it very easy for a South American jail, with cable TV and access to drink and drugs. We just phoned up one of the South African prisoners inside, whose number we'd been given, and arranged to go that afternoon. The guards let us in and we were taken first for an introductory talk by a South African woman (not a prisoner) who claimed to be working for a charity for imprisoned gringos, though its not so clear exactly what she did. There were afew cockroaches around, and we did get bitten by things as we sat on the mattresses, so its not that luxurious, but they still have it very easy. We got tour from another South African chap, quite incomprehensible most of the time, too much marching powder I think, and also saw his room and met his wife and daughter (families are allowed to stay in this wing with the prisoners, but can leave when they like). Well that's a brief description, but all in all it was a truly surreal experience, and I must say I was quite glad when they let us out. One of the strangest things I've done.

That night was my last night in La Paz, and last with Richard who I'd travelled with for 10 days, so we thought it would be good to go out properly. While having our free drink in the hostel bar we also met a couple who Richard had met before in San Pedro, where they were waiting for new passports after having them nicked. They'd just had their wallet stolen upon arrival in La Paz and said there was quite a queue to declare such things in the Police station. We headed out by taxi to try and hit the town. The first few places we tried were shut, and at this point we were cursing Lonely Planet. Then we found an English bar that was open, but would serve only vodka (because it looks like water) as there was actually an alcohol sales ban in place before the referendum 2 days later. Eventually we went back to the hostel bar which was still serving but a bit dead (many people seemed to have heeded advice to get out of Bolivia before the referendum) for a disappointing early night.

I decided not to stay in Copacabana on the Bolivian side of lake Titicaca next night, but to head on to Puno on the Bolivian side so that I didn't get stuck, which could have meant not making it to my Inca trail on time. I was able to turn up at the bus station next morning and get on a bus almost straight away.

I only have 2 photos from La Paz, so here's one of them.