Greetings All

The end is nigh and we are at Puno on Lake Titicaca having a final rest day before heading back into to Bolivia. And today was a rest day for a change.

The first rest day we had was in Potosi in Bolivia where we went down a silver mine for a visit. This was a working mine and here is a tip for you no matter how bad you think your job might be you don´t want to be a miner in a Bolivian Silver mine. Before hand we got dressed up in protective waterproof clothing (i.e the sweat can´t escape) and helmets with lights.

Then we went to some shops to by “presents” for the miners, yes this was another way to extract money from the gringos but they were unusual presents. You had the choice of bottles of soft drink, bags of coca leaves (the miners chew on them), bottles of 96% alcohol (for the Friday night booze up, bloody hell does that stuff have a kick and a flavour that’s a cross between 80 grit sand paper and sulphuric acid) and finally dynamite kits that consist of a stick of dynamite, a detonator with fuse cord and a pouch of ammonium nitrate. None of these are expensive and can be bought by anyone over the counter. You can guess what most people bought. We trooped off to the mine and went down the main entrance diving to the side when carts of ore were flying towards us from the opposite direction with miners hanging on the back like a scene out of an Indiana Jones film.

Did I mention that Bolivians tend to be very short? I’m not. An average “high” part of the mine tunnel was around 5 1/2 feet tall but quite often got down as low as 3 1/2 feet tall. My helmet got quite a workout. Also mines are very hot so by this time we were sweating and puffing like a train. Then it got really hard. We started down to the lower levels crawling down tunnels only a couple of feet high and very steep. As we went through the mine we met groups of workers that we gave our “presents” too.

We were knackered after 3 hours and we had done no actual work, these guys do this 10-12 hours a day 5-6 days a week for years on end and the conditions were as primitive as you can imagine. We came across one group hammering holes in the rock by hand so they could use the dynamite present later on.

We eventually got out of the mine and recovered on the surface. Our guide Pedro then made up two bang kits from the stick of dynamite, lights the fuse then gives it to me. For some some reason everyone thought this was a great joke and took photos (from a distance). Then I noticed Pedro had gone. Mierde. In the words of a famous French detective “I have a berm, what am I going to do with it?” meanwhile the fuse continues to sputter and no Pedro. People are starting to back away even further, eventually he reappears with a big grin on his face and take both bang kits away into the field and shortly after two bangs happen. It was an interesting morning.

The second rest day was supposed to be much easier, we were at Nazca and would take a relaxing flight over the Nazca lines in a light aircraft. The plane held 6 people including the pilot I ended up sitting in the seat next to the pilot which turned out to be very informative. The flight lasts about half an hour and we flew over the lines and other drawings with the pilot pulling really tight turns over the drawings so everyone can see them properly. Of course when he does these turns my stomach is bouncing up and down only being stopped from travelling any further by my boots or my skull cap. But all is good although the plane is really hot and again I’m sweating.

Anyway we start flying back and the pilot starts pressing buttons etc when I notice he puts the landing gear lever in the down position, then back to the up position, then back down, then up. I have a bad feeling about this. He starts checking the indicator lights, circuit breakers fiddlers with the landing gear lever again, nothing. Meanwhile the other 4 guys in the back don´t realise that there is any problem, yet. I’m thinking to myself how to gently break the news that I think we have no landing gear without causing a minor panic and decide that there is no way to do it so I say nothing.

The sweat starts to trickle a little faster.

Ten minutes later we are near the airport and the pilot grabs some plastic cards and starts flipping through them. Take off speed, Landing procedures, Wind shear procedures, Then we get to Emergency procedures, engine failure, finally he stops at landing gear mechanical failure. Mierde. I was very  keen to read what was on that card. Eventually he starts pumping on a lever between the seats and I could see a wheel appear on my side of the plane. By this time everyone else in the plane has worked out what’s going on and a very heavy silence has descended. We fly past the airport and they check we have three wheels and then we come in for the landing and it was a very, very gentle landing as well. We had a fire truck escort down the runway. After we stopped I managed to unlock my fingers from the dash board, I’m sure the dents will eventually disappear. After congratulating the pilot we voted unanimously that the rest of the afternoon would consist of cerveza at the hotel, and there was much rejoicing.

There is never a dull moment on a Ferris wheels rest day.

The rest of the trip was very quiet in comparison we travelled along the pan american highway and all you see was MMBS (Miles, Miles of Bloody Sand) but the road was very good with long section of gently winding road with sections of very twisty road, so much fun was had on the Africa Queen. I stupidly made comment that night that considering there was so much sand it was surprising that there was none on the road. I really should shut up. The next day we were back right on the coast and the wind was blowing from the sea causing the sand to blow across the road in ghostly waving patterns, when I came around one corner the road seemed to disappear. Up closer I saw huge sections of the road covered in fine yellow sand. I hate sand. It turned out ok with only a couple of twitches here and there but it would have been better without it. The rest of the trip consisted of mountain passes over 4500 metres high with one afternoon travelling down from one of these passes through the cloud layer sharing the road with suicidal bus drivers.

I can promise you that if you are riding a motorbike up a hill and a bus appears from around the bend in the road coming towards you, leaning over like crazy with all 10 tyres sliding across the road at high speed, the mind becomes very concentrated on choosing the correct path to ride.

All along the roads are crosses sometimes singularly sometimes in groups, at one place where we stopped on a corner in the mountains we counted 30 crosses with several other crosses down the side of the mountain. At another place we passed a burnt out tanker on the side of the road then there was a large section of melted/burnt tarmac next to 5 crosses. It tells its own story. We take great care on the roads. But despite this and a few other local scary habits it´s much safer riding here than in India.

Finally it wouldn’t be a real holiday without a word about the local food. Chickens lead a short and hard life here and I have eaten enough pollo to last me for quite a long time. Lamas are cute, furry and very tasty. Enough said.

If you had any hamsters, mice, etc as children please skip to the next paragraph you won´t like what I had for dinner last night. The local speciality is Cuy el Horno, this translates as Roast Guinea Pig. They serve the thing whole complete with little (and big) teeth. After you have finished being ill I know you won´t believe me when I say it was really tasty with lots of local herbs/spices. The main problem was it was a lot of work for very little return. You don’t share a leg with someone else unless.

Three of us had it and all agree it was very good but no one believes us.

That´s all for this trip, thanks to all those who replied to the last email, it was appreciated.

Regards

Ian J

P.S the max factor went to warp 5 with Paul’s bike finally dying just before the Bolivian border. So for the last section into la Paz. So Paul was on the back of the Africa Queen as pillion passenger. We ended up riding through a lighting storm where the flash/bang was almost simultaneous. It was the first bit of rain we had seen in the trip and it was on the last day. How does he organise these things!!!