Travel Log Week 4

Monday 24.7.00 Cafayate ( The Capital of Sunlight, 360 days a year! ) to El Carmen, GPS to follow After a typically good breakfast of bread, scones and coffee, (Paul's face lit up when Marta told him it was good for losing weight, but she was only joking) we made ready to leave and packed the bikes in the courtyard. However by the time we had chatted to lots of interested people, it was quite late, but no problem, Marta had suggested we stopped the night at another relatives' Hotel about 200 miles on at Humahuaca, which seemed like a good plan, as we prefer stopping in smaller places rather than the big cities. She also refused to let us pay for the night, which was exceptionally kind, especially since we had woken up one of the guests who was snoring loudly (no, not Adam for once!) when we were talking to Natalie and some other guests after we got back from the restaurant. We got on the road and straight away it was more wonderful scenery, huge red sandstone mountains, like the Worcester area, but really big, mixed in with a multitude of other rocks and gravels as we climbed off the valley floor and out through a narrow ravine. We stopped again for the view, and decided to run the camera bike back through the last section while we chatted with some more people who had been chasing us, and just as we finished that, Adam heard the dreaded hissing of a tyre going down! Oh well, it had to happen sooner or later, but of all the places to get a drawing pin through your tyre; Really, a drawing pin in the middle of the desert! We had never actually taken the back wheel off one of the bikes yet, at least John claimed to have, but we think it was really the lads in the shop! We got all the tools out, and the Racespec tyre lever spanners worked a treat, we had the wheel out, tube changed and back in the bike in 30 minutes, inflated with the MSR kit which Dave Watson also supplied, just the job. Of all the places to change a tyre, it was probably not too bad, certainly better than in the snow, we dreaded having to do that. Mind you, what the coach trips thought of 3 English guys changing a tyre in the middle of the desert is anyone's guess! We pressed on, now quite hot, down through more spectacular scenery, stopping again to view the Devils Throat where we met an Argentine Diplomat on holiday who was very helpful, and down to refuel at La Vina, ready for the run up to Humahuaca. The road down to Salta was superb, a smooth switchback of tarmac, wide sweeping bends and not much traffic, great stuff. We negotiated Salta, somewhere else with lots going on, worthy of a day to itself, and found the road north. Quickly, we realised we were not going to make our objective tonight, as the road, although a national route, was quite narrow and wound out of Salta up alongside the mountain, around numerous blind bends and more sheer drops. It was hard work concentrating for the next 20km, and we finally made the crest as the sun set behind the mountains, but just like yesterday, once we went over the top, it was a different world, and we were back in rain forest. The road was again stuck to the side of huge drops, with so many bends John got dizzy, only 20 yards back but seeing Adam going one way and Paul the other it was so tight. The trip down was again exceptional, like riding down an ornamental drive, and in the dusk the light was fantastic, though we did have to be careful to avoid the occasional cow, and an unlit horseman on his way home. After another 15km of this, we reached the bottom, and another checkpoint, but the guys there just smiled when they saw us, no stopping necessary. We soon saw a likely looking Hostelry by a lake and decided to call it a day there, rather than ride in the dark for another 100 miles. Apart from John falling off while parking, he claimed an urn jumped out on him, it was another good days riding done and a fine meal of "King of Fishes", very welcome. It is impossible to describe the scenery we've just been through, surely some of the most stunning anywhere in the world, we hope some of the film does it justice, but anyway, everyone should really come and see it for themselves. Add that to the unique and wonderful plano in Patagonia and the magical Teirra del Fuego, Argentina and its people have been an experience we will never forget; we kissed the toe of the Statue of Magellan in Punta Arenas which is supposed to mean you will return, but at this rate we will be wanting to return to all the places we have been!

Tuesday 25.7.00 El Carmen to La Quiaca /Yavi (GPS S22.07.804 / W065.27.730) 11,400feet Well, at last some luxury, breakfast on the patio, looking over the lake, very civilised! It had been quite cold last night because of the altitude, but the sunshine was wonderful, and we were quite happy sitting in the sun for a while, in fact we could have spent all day sat in the sun but things to do again, though Paul had found an Armadillo guitar and had a go playing it, weird apparently. We negotiated the garden urn successfully in daylight with help from Ruperto and the gardener, and were soon on the road, heading down to Jujuy to hit the road north to the border. We were not sure how long it would take, as the switchback we had ridden last night looked straight on the map, and Route 9 was shown as bendy, so anything could happen. Before long, we were climbing up a wide valley, with the road pinned to one side and huge mountains either side. The entire floor of the valley was boulders washed down from the mountains, and although there was not much water in the river, when it rains it must really pour down, as the scree slopes were huge, and in places had covered the road. The poor old railway line had taken a pounding, sometimes 20m deep under rocks, and one railway bridge was sunk halfway up its height, with another huge boulder jammed between the steels. The road was suffering the same damage and we rode through several temporary sections which were a bit dodgy, but no major problems. The road kept rising all the time, and as we got nearer the top the valley flattened out, and people were making fields out of the flatter pieces, but still there were a huge variety of different kinds of sands, white, blue, green and brown, similar to those we had seen near Cafayalde. There were still people around, we saw one guy miles from anywhere pushing along a telegraph pole on a pram, quite where he was going we could not understand! We stopped at the Tropic of Capricorn (John's Sign) for a photo session, it felt like quite a milestone passed, and we had gone through our third 1000 miles almost unnoticed while coming down the mountain last night, so this was chance to sit back and take stock. We got talking to a load more tourists and some kids on the scrounge, once again everyone was fascinated with the trip, which was great. We moved on to Uquia for a cup of tea with the relatives of the people we'd stayed with at Cafayate, where we were mobbed again by the other tourists, who all wanted photo's and video's, again very nice, but we thought that the other artisan stall holders might object to us pinching their sales opportunity! After a fuel stop and Police Check at the last place before the border it was finally up onto the Altiplano, wide open spaces and we found the road was superb new tarmac, brilliant sweeping curves, if only we'd had the R1, what a blast! You did notice the altitude, the bikes were panting a bit, running well but they certainly did not have the go they normally do, but running cleanly thanks to the K&N filters and jetting from Andy Colbourne at Hyperformance. We had a great time on the top, and once again you can't describe how big it is, but it is absolutely breathtaking, and with the setting sun the colours were brilliant. The tarmac ran out and for 30km it was washboard and we took it easy to save pounding the bikes, but even so, the split picked up at Tolhuin in Paul's screen suddenly expanded and it snapped off, nearly getting run over by a following bus. Never mind, we will try fixing it tomorrow. We got to the border town La Quiaca, and had great satisfaction in taking pics in front of a sign saying Ushuaia 5121km! We had a tip to stay out of town at Yavi, and headed that way in the dark, we'd had a ceremony taking off the muffs while fixing the puncture yesterday, but it was getting nippy again, so back on with the heated grips again! There was no room at the inn, but we went round the corner to La Casana, which was very picturesque, and Paul got the chance to chat with some "younger" people, Cheers bud! So tomorrow we leave Argentina, where we have had a great time, great people and great scenery. We did not know what to expect, but in any event, it has been fantastic, and we will take many good memories on with us for the rest of the Trip.

The Crusaders cross the Tropic of Capricorn, at last!

Click on photo for larger image

Wednesday 26.7.00 Yavi to Tupiaza, Bolivia (GPS S21.26.535/W065.43.199, alt 9778 ft) We woke up to a strange sqeaking noise, which turned out to be Paul using a brace & bit he'd borrowed to drill holes in his screen, which he managed to bolt back together. The tall screens work really well and they make a huge difference to the buffeting we get. It was a superb place to stop, we had got the bikes into the courtyard and it was great to be able to load up in the sunshine, though at night it is very cold, lots of frozen water around. Gabriel the man looking after us came out of the shower (cold) and his hair all froze, sticking up in spikes, so we decided not to have one ourselves, though he has more hair than us! The old buildings we stayed in have clay rendered walls and roofs, which goes to show how little rain there is up here. We said farewell to Olga, Celina and Marcela who had been good company after they missed their bus, and rode up to the border, stopping to leave some water at a shrine for any needy travellers. The border crossing was full of people, carrying blankets full of goods or pushing carts loaded with beds, window frames, all sorts. We got pestered by endless numbers of kids asking for dollars, trying to clean shoes etc, it was impossible not to feel sad about it, there were so many. Olga works in an orphanage in Buenos Aires and says it is quite difficult to come to terms with the hardship these kids have to endure. Their only leisure pursuit seems to be making kites out of polythene scrap, judging by the numbers flying we had seen here and at Jujuy on the way up. We had missed the Customs man on the Bolivian side, as he had just gone to lunch for 2 hours, but taking Steve Colemans' advice we cheerfully waited, chatting to the Bolivian Police who turned out to be very interested, and looked at the people going about their daily routines. John & Paul went shopping on the Bolivian side, and the prices had dropped dramatically from Argentina, and suddenly it was a completely different feel to the place, lots of traditional costume and hats around. Not many lorries cross here, but suddenly about 50 women with cases of wine, TV's and cooking oil in cloths on their backs appeared in a big queue in the Argentine side, and were waved through to Bolivia, and reappeared empty a few minutes later, to go back for another load. We had not seen anything like it since coming back from the 500MX GP at Namur last year on the hovercraft, and finding ourselves surrounded by cigarette "importers"! Having not spoken to another English person for 3 weeks also crossing were a couple: Claire was from a little place south of London called Salisbury, and Jamie was from Brisbane, both touring around the Andes till September. Our man reappeared, and in a short while had prepared the temporary import documents we need for the bikes, and directed us up the road to the next town. We could not make out quite how far it was or what the road was like, but we picked up the main road fairly easily, but it was not paved, and we were really amazed to be stopped at a Peage booth, and had to fork out $2.50 for the privilege of riding down a gravel track! Some people evidently disagreed with the policy judging by the number of times the barrier had been repaired. We headed out along the road, yesterday miles from anywhere we had seen a man running along the verge, followed a mile later by another one, why? Today, miles from anywhere it was a man sat on a rock listening to a transistor radio, again, slightly weird! The road was hard work, single track in places and again the bikes and kit were taking a pounding, we also had the next new hazard, river crossings, Paul nearly got mown down by a truck from behind as he was picking his way through. In the dusk we dropped down through small indigenous Indian villages, with a slight shock realising there was no electric light whatsoever, and people were stood out on the road watching the world go by, a very hard life by the look of it. We passed through a mountain tunnel which was quite a sight, and at last, electric light. As we pulled into Tupiaza, famous as the place of the last bank robbery by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, they were shot a few days later about 150 mile NW of here in 1908, what a place to end up, out in the desert. We took a quick circuit round the dusty streets and pulled up at the Hostel Valle Hermosa, very welcoming and room at a relatives place for the bikes, so that would do for our first day in Bolivia. We had a good meal at a restaurant round the corner, about 25% of the cost of Argentina, and watched Argentina vs Brasil on TV! The impression so far is of a very different country to Argentina and Chile, we just hope to find some tarmac road soon!

Thursday 27.7.00 Tupiza to Potosi (Tupiza GPS 21.26.535/ W065.43.199) We had a reasonable nights sleep as we have been suffering from a few headaches and not really sleeping through. Breakfast "Americano" turned out to be coffee toast and omelette, then it was off round the corner to recover the bikes from Fredy's family. After having a chat with them it was back to the Hostel to load up and get going. Despite having huge MasterCard signs all over the place, it turned out that Madame did not accept plastic, only Fredy, and he was not here, so paying in cash knocked our finances slightly. We rode out of town along the dusty streets; we did not need to fuel up as we had only done 50 miles yesterday and we still had the Jeri cans full of Chilean fuel we'd been carrying for the last month. Since we knew we were on dirt roads today it would also keep the weight down. Not unexpectedly we hit another Peage, this time $3.50 each, which cleaned us right out of Bolivianos. We were waiting behind a truck whose back brakes were leaking brake fluid fast, not inspiring much confidence, but it solved the mystery of why there are big boulders in the road now and again: they are parking brakes for the trucks, the guys get one out of the ditch when they stop roll onto it, then drive off when they are ready, leaving it to be hit by another unsuspecting motorist! We made reasonable time along the road, through adobe built settlements full of people, with herds of goats and hairy spotted pigs (Gloucester?) being looked after by small kids. We saw some men building a new mud wall, tamping it down between old plank shuttering, making a nice job of it. With a few stops for water (actually '96 Sprite and Fanta according to the cap markings, seals not broken but a bit worrying!) we made reasonable time despite the rocks clanging on our bashplates, and climbing mountains with 500' drops off the sides and no barriers at all. Our plan was to ride 35 miles to Cotagaita and stop there but once we arrived, it turned out to be a single street of mud houses, people waiting for trucks and dogs running about, and nowhere sensible to stop. We rode through town and stopped a few miles down the road to take stock. We took a GPS reading and it was 65 miles to Potosi, the next city on our route but we were only averaging a steady 25mph, due to the road conditions, which were giving the bikes and kit a real bashing. We had all the camping kit on board, but the ground was either scree covered with cactus or any flat area already had a field or house on it, so we decided to press on very steadily, and stop if we saw somewhere likely looking. The trucks were still coming along, mostly Volvo 6wheelers, were as in Chile and Argentina they are all long nose Mercedes and Scanias, with few American built ones around. They all get a move on, drifting out in the corners and the suspension taking a hammering on the washboard, throwing up huge tails of white dust and stones, which meant we had to slow down each time one came as we could not see ahead. The road was not too bad though we had to cross a rickety plank suspension bridge and climb up and down some more very big mountains. We made reasonable time in the dusk but still nowhere to stop and now we were getting hassled by all the dogs each place we went through. It got dark and we now had to stop each time a truck came along, but with no alternative, we just had to keep going. At last we got to the junction with National Route 1 and stopped for a Fanta - the Sprite had dropped off somewhere a while before and we admired the Milky Way and Shooting Stars, we miss so much of the night sky being in built up areas these days. At the junction was a small bar, and we stopped to see if we could get a room, he said Yes, but we had only Chilean notes and a $US100 bill, which he could not change, probably more money than he sees in a year! Still, no problem, the city was only 25 miles and we would now be on a National Route so should make good time. How wrong can you be! What had been bad now got worse and we bottomed out in a ditch crossing the road. As we gradually worked up the next mountain we realised the Customs man on the Border had in fact given us good advice in avoiding Route 1 as long as possible, and as we came to a section with roadworks it became completely ridiculous. They are bulldozing away the side of the mountain to widen the road, but they just leave heaps of shale where they fall, and the trucks have to drive over them to get through, so we were making our way over piles, through holes and around big rocks, absolutely unbelievable. Coming the other way were now big 40' trailers dead slow and big coaches, it was literally like riding through a quarry. Even worse, they were only "improving" the easy bits and you would climb a pile of shale only to drop straight down into a 180 bend in a ravine, over a single track bridge with dust covering the rocks, knowing there was a big drop off the side in the dark. Added to this lot there were 50m long sand pans which were horrible to ride, exactly the conditions to rip Paul's leg again, and that would be a real problem. After 5km of this, being covered in dust and diesel smoke, we got to flatter sections which had been semi finished and made better time, but even here they had not done the tricky bits, one moment a 40' wide road, then in between a load of piles of tipping, to cross a river. This was definitely one for Paul not to tackle as there were big holes where the trucks got stuck, and ice 30 yards either side from the watersplash freezing on the ground. We got all three bikes across, and set off again. Each mountain rise we hoped to see the lights of the city, but nothing. It was cold and once again the heated grips were lifesavers, we think they are the single most important modification we have done on the bikes - many, many thanks to Mike Trigg of Motohaus Marketing for them; the Intercoms and the headlight protectors which also took a pounding today. At last we rounded a mountain top to see the lights of the city below. It looked like Gloucester coming down Birdlip Hill, but higher up and a smaller city, but it was heaven to us! We checked out through the Peage - they should have paid us to ride that road and any truck driver would be putting his life at risk going up there, but if you don't know any different.... We rode down the paved (but icy) streets into the city, which is an old Spanish town, and looked about for somewhere to stay, first stop being the Hostel Libertador which had a garage as well. We were incredibly dirty but they let us in and even took Mastercard, bliss! They kindly rustled up chicken and chips and a few beers. It was midnight and we had been on the road for 12 hours, undoubtedly the most physically demanding days riding any of us have ever done. The run into Garayalde on the icy was more stressful, simply because you knew you did not really have control of the bike, but today was sheer physical effort all the time with no letup. The Honda Africa Twins all performed brilliantly, they are a superb machine, strong and powerful enough for the load and boy did we need those excellent lights! Many thanks to Honda UK for their help and Claremont Motorcycles in Gloucester for actually supplying them. So, after a terrifically hard day we think we will take a break to recuperate. We have been moving continuously since Trelew when Paul was fitted with his brace and we have yet more dirt road on the way to La Paz. We have done 250 miles on it so far, so time to give the bikes and kit a thorough check out, as well as ourselves!

Friday 28.7.00 Potosi (GPS 19.35.514/ W065.45.345 alt 13,000 ft) We got up for breakfast at 8am amazingly enough and just sat there comparing notes about the night before. We couldn't believe the roads we had been on and Paul had actually carried on riding in his dreams, he was that focussed on it! We went up to the balcony and looked out at the huge mountain opposite which we had come down the night before and decided definitely to take the day out. Paul & John went to check the bikes out while Adam started work on the report. The bikes had stood up well and although John's Scott oiler had fallen to bits it was easily repaired. The tyres were all fine to our surprise and after a wire brush off, the chains oiled up nicely. The hotel offered a trip to the silver mine which we thought was interesting so after lunch we were picked up by 2 guys in an old Ford Cherokee - suspension completely shot and the transmission sounded rough too! After a quick trip round the narrow streets of the old colonial town; don't stop at junctions, just beep and go, switch the engine off on any down hill and coast, run up the kerbs to get past oncoming traffic, we stopped at their office to be kitted out in oilskins, hardhats and wellies, plus 3 calcium carbide mining lamps: wait till you see the pic of Paul in his hardhat! They suggested we did some shopping on the way up to the mine so we pulled up outside a row of shops selling mining supplies like picks & shovels, bags, barrows etc, and our cheerful guide told us to buy some dynamite so he could show us an explosion. Sure enough, there were big boxes of Dynamite sticks complete with detonators in another box, and extra bags of Amonium Nitrate for more bang if you need it, so we bought a stick, bag and the detonator, just like that! Then it was next door, to buy a bag of cocoa leaves and 97%. proof alcohol, which is what keeps the miners able to work long shifts apparently. Back into the Ford for a ride up the mountain which was an experience. There was a tilt meter on the dash which seemed a bit pointless really, at the angles we were leaning! At the top it was quite scary looking east to the road we had come down, it looked even worse in daylight than it had at night, as you could see just how big the drops really were, and they were bigger than even we had imagined! Once inside the mine the tunnels were very small, quite difficult for us big people to get down The Spanish started the mine over 400 years ago and at one time Potosi was the biggest city on the continent. We clambered down shafts and along narrow passages to watch guys hammering 25" deep holes in the rock to set charges, they do 2 explosions per day and on average 2 guys bring out 500kg of ore per day, some coming up from 200m down. Paul's leg was giving him some grief so he did not go down much further but John & Adam had a go at hammering (Just like being at work!) and talked to the men, most of then seemed a bit spaced out, not surprising with the diet they live on, but they work very hard and the amount of effort needed to carry sacks and barrows out of those small holes is incredible. We took a spot height with the GPS which showed 14,078 ft, that's high! They mine Tin, Lead and Silver here. We asked what the white crystals were on some of the walls, " Oh, that's another mineral called Asbestos" was the answer! One of the men was 72 and ran up tunnels 70 times a day with 50kg on his back, quite how he's lasted that long in those conditions we don't know. They average 5 tunnel collapses a year with various casualties, and after stopping to offer coca and alcohol to the miners Idol who protects them, it was back to the surface with some relief for our explosion. Our guide demonstrated how to prepare a charge and we watched from what did not seem very far away as he lit the fuse. The bang was very impressive so we placed an order immediately for Nov 5th! After a scary ride back down the mountain, we had a walk round the old part of the city which is actually very nice: narrow cobbled streets and lovely overhanging balconies, before returning to base. We planned to take the next stage tomorrow which we were told was 125 km of dirt road then pavement to Oruro, the last stop before La Paz, and decided to have dinner and an early night. We found a small restaurant in the old part of town, had various Llama meat dishes all of which were delicious and puddings to round it off, very pleasant. So, somewhat recharged we were confident of making it off the dirt tomorrow and onto tarmac again which sounded like good news, we had had quite enough rattling and banging around, right now the M25 would seem like heaven!

Saturday 29.7.00 Potosi to Challapata (GPS S18.53.999/W066.46.499 alt 12,400 ft) Refreshed after our days rest, we were up and packed in good time, we knew we had at least 100k of dirt road ahead of us before we got onto pavement again, but we were prepared to give it plenty of time and just make sure we rode out in one piece. Paul had another nightmare last night about being on a dirt road and riding until we all ran out of fuel, so he was not as rested as he could have been! We found our way out of town, the fuel station did not accept plastic again which was a pain, and then it was off on a lovely tarmac road which we knew would not last, and time for another Peage. Never mind, we hoped one day to pay to ride on tarmac again! Sure enough, the tarmac ran out after 10k, dropping down between huge canyon walls and we then had to turn left and up onto the Oruro road which started off looking like a cobbled track, really rough and bouncing the bikes around again. We had only done about a mile when there was a big puff of dust and Pauls' back tyre went instantly flat. We pulled over and found a 1" wide shard of metal had gone straight through the tyre and tube giving it no chance. Well, we'd already done this once, so out with the tools, and all the bits off. We decided that the rip in the tyre was so bad it was not worth chancing another puncture and more lost time so we put on the new spare we'd been carrying for just such a situation, with a new tube, and all back in OK. We wanted to save the MSR inflation kit cartridges for real emergencies so we flagged down a passing 4wd who kindly loaned us their pump and even helped pump it up, many thanks to them for stopping. We'd now lost the time we'd had in hand, but that's what its for, and we set off again, climbing yet more switchback roads up and down the mountains. At one point we were well over 500' above some huts and a river valley bottom with a sheer drop off the side, later on we came across the wreck of a lorry at the bottom of another one, not a pretty sight. Even so, there were people working the land all over the place, little drystone walled fields and we saw several Ox teams ploughing the tiny fields, no room for mechanisation here, even if they could afford it. There is a timeless feel to this area, people all in traditional costume simply because it is the most practical outfit around. As we went along, the road surface was still mainly cobbled and it was very difficult to find any smooth lines at all. The Touratech panniers and Dave Cross's welding stood up well but we were worried about the cameras and electronics inside, not good. Riding through herds of Llama's and sheep and starting to look like Scotland on a huge scale, we made steady progress despite one sheepdog having a go at Adam's bike and coming off worst, last seen running off yelping, hopefully only bruised pride there. We had done just over 70 miles like this when we met a cyclist pushing up a hill. He turned out to be a Canadian aged 65, who had cycled down the US, flown to Venezuela and cycled down from there. He said he'd had enough of high altitude and roads so rough you couldn't see the scenery for fear of coming off and we very much agreed with him. We had to tell him he was heading for even worse roads but didn't have the heart to tell him just how bad they were going to be and for how long! We said farewell and he set off uphill again at a fair speed, a brave man, not something that appeals to us at all! We also met a Texan couple in a pickup who gave us some hints on shipping from Ecuador to Panama, which we will look into. We had covered just over 100 miles on the dirt with sandy sections causing big wobbles as well when we finally came to the start of roadworks, and in the style we have come to expect, we had to be ready for surprises at any moment. The new surface was being bulldozed into shape quite nicely but the bridge building was way behind again, so for 10k we had to parallel the new road on temporary tracks cut into the surrounding slopes, including river crossings etc, and the latest hazard for us, dust watered by the road tankers made into extremely slippery mud, which we knew our tyres were not good on. Slipping and sliding, we were eventually allowed up onto the new tarmac surface and it was unreal, riding down a wide black strip so smooth and quiet after the last 300 miles, 40 mph seemed really fast!. There were still surprises in the dark, last minute diversions off the road and through a river, no bridge again, and we finally made Challapata, from where the asphalt runs up unbroken to La Paz. It was dark, and we decided to find a room there, not much choice in the dusty streets, but the Pension Victoria had some rooms, rough but OK and a yard backing onto it for the bikes. The hostess laughed when we asked about food and we knew why when just as we sat down a couple of trucks pulled up and we were instantly surrounded by 50+ farm workers. Chicken soup followed by rice and meat appeared. We were sat with a group who were very sociable and in turn interested in us. Jimmy and Victor wanted to be on the video so we obliged, it was a chance to record the headgear on display, everything from No Fear caps to Johns' favourite, a wizard hat shaped Andean bonnet with flaps; he tried to buy it but the guy wasn't selling. We are a bit worried about this trend in John, he almost swapped his Bell for a Bolivian Police cap last week, until common sense took hold again! The food was good, but everyone disappeared as soon as they'd finished, so it was back to our room for desert, some chocolate we'd bought up the street earlier. The bathroom was out the back adjoining the pigsty so we decided not to worry to much about the lack of showers and had an early night, anticipating a smooth days riding ahead!?

Sunday 30.7.00 Challapata to La Paz (GPS S16.29.992/W068.08.322 alt 12,500ft) Surprisingly enough given the standard of the facilities we slept well, except Paul who was determined not to have a riding nightmare again, so he went to sleep trying to think of walking across fields with his little boy Morgan. Only trouble was, just as he dropped off to sleep, they walked over a gravel track, ext thing he knew he was back on the bike and wrestling it along a dirt road until he lost it in a crash, which woke everyone else up as well as him! We all passed on the morning shower deciding we were cleaner now than we would be after the shower, but we are pleased to report that full board and lodgings complete for 3 people was £7.50 all in so we have now achieved the "budget" set by the girls - our £5.00ea for a day budget met at last! We had read that it was difficult to find hotels with garages in La Paz so we phoned ahead to book one as we were worried about security in a big city and paid at the town Entel shop for a call, no computerised timing here, one phone and a girl with a stopwatch! So with a firm target in mind, we set off, and cleared the last few dusty streets out of town, and struggled through the roadworks up to the Peage, which we paid with the greatest of pleasure, looking at the smooth tarmac straight ahead. It was great to gradually wind up to 60mph with no banging around, the dust blowing off the bikes and into our faces for a while and we did 20 miles straight off just for the hell of it. The scenery was again quite different, a huge salt flat to the left giving mirages of pure water and rocky islands sticking up; on the right the mountain range rising to the east, with greener patches being made into fields again. We stopped for a break and check, more small Greenfinch like birds and Swallows, and still the occasional big Hawks, but in spite of the road being perfect actually less traffic than we had seen for a long time. We made good time going up past Poopo which was a boring mining town and reached Oruro, a larger town again originally mining lead & tin but still a hive of activity. We fuelled up, again cash though Mastercard logos were clearly on display, eating into our small reserve of currency, since we had still not been able to get to a bank of any decent size, and we had changed our last few US$ for this stage. From Oruro the road rose up into the hills and we went through towns teeming with people loading and unloading trucks and minivans, people jammed inside and everything piled on the roof, sacks of flour, sheepskins, bicycles, oil drums, live llamas, sheep, chickens and more people. You thought they would tip over in a strong wind. All the houses were still adobe, though some had now put a brick second storey on, which did not look too safe really, but apparently no problem? We hit another Peage and went on across the vast plain which seemed to have lots of factories on it judging by the chimney smoke rising, but as we got closer, you could see they were actually whirlwinds some rising several thousand feet, very impressive. Some were quite close and a small one crossed the road just as Adam got there and pushed the bike hard one way then immediately the other, quite scary, and that was just a tiddler! We made good time on these roads and stopped for a break before the final push to La Paz, in what was the first brick built Roadhouse we'd seen for 500 miles. We didn't know what to expect of La Paz. The first impression as we hit the outskirts was of the huge snow capped mountain looming over us with other jagged peaks away to the north, then the human side took over, miles of tents, shanty houses and then bigger buildings as we approached the Airport (slightly disturbing to see a pile of wrecked old planes alongside the main road!), thousands of Toyota Minivans packed with people, then another Peage as we suddenly hit the edge of the plain and dropped off the escarpment, looking over the city proper. It is in a huge natural bowl with houses climbing all up the sides and looks very impressive. The central tower blocks are much lower than the outer houses; we dropped at least 500m on the way down and suddenly it was big city traffic being directed by Police with notebooks to take down number plates and pistols for show (we hoped). The driving technique is similar to Potosi, roll down the hills with the motor off, and beep all the time, and we managed to negotiate our way to the Hotel Milton with only one wrong move, but that meant we had to go round several blocks again to get back to where we wanted. Our worst fears were realised when we were instantly surrounded by people looking at the bikes, plus most of the street pavements seemed to be markets anyway with stalls or laid out cloths covered in produce and goods, all of which meant lots of passers by. The Hotel had secure parking round the corner but that was closed for 2 hours, so we unloaded the bikes in turn, and with the porters worked really hard getting everything up to the 5th floor, difficult at the best of times, but at this altitude...... We took it in turns to watch the bikes and chatted to the staff and other multinational guests and then were able to park for the night. By this time we were very hungry and had to pound the streets, not easy for Paul as there is not a flat piece anywhere and find somewhere we could eat for less than 100 Bolivianos ($US17), yet still leave us with some change in case we had to email again should the promised funds not turn up at the Bank tomorrow! A Chinese with Disco (quiet!) did the job nicely and after checking on the bikes it was back to the hotel, but we still could not believe just how many people were out on the streets trying to sell bits & pieces. It seems again that there is a huge gulf in prosperity, some are at or below subsistence level, while others appear quite well off, but so many people in a small place, quite staggering!

Link to next update: Week 5