Our plans to head south went south as we discovered a countrywide peasant demonstration had brought about numerous road blockades. Our stop in La Paz extended to six days as we dug in. Phill’s 600th birthday came to pass. Thank you for your emails and post!  Making a bid for escape, we boarded a bus on the Monday morning for the mundane town of Oruru, some 3 hours south. This the starting point of the single track railroad south. The farmers were out in force however and our bus, along with others, were sent off the bitumen into the desert. 2 hours later we arrived back on the black stuff again, though not before watching the bus infront come close to toppling over and ourselves fighting against sinking sand. 

Oruro was, well, rough. We found a hotel with mirror glass and five floors of relative luxury. An unfortunate set of circumstances cost us our only chance of a good meal. Moving tables in a pizzeria, Phill knocked a cup of coffee flying from a waitresses hands. The cup fell on a glass table which shattered. The waitresss ignored Phill’s attempts to apologise and stormed off holding her ‘burnt arm’. A German girl sat at that table was both unscathed and amazed that after 6 months hot coffee had actually (apparently) been heading her way! We beat a hasty retreat. Days later we ran into this girl again. They waitress, we were told,  had been looking for us to pay for the table! Ah, Latin America. You just feel like you wanna grab it by the cheeks and give it a good wiggle! 

Our evening didn’t end there. A busy burger joint dished up burgers and chips for 27p a pop. 24 hours later Phill was struck down with ecoli.

Whilst Phill’s insides decided what to do with this uninvited guest, we rumbled south on a single track railway to Uyuni. 7 hours in Executive Class, the fare was a mere 5 quid.  By Friday last, Phill’s sickness was over and we jumped into a 4WD Toyota for a 2 and a half day whizz across the salt flats of Uyuni. High altitude and low low temperatures added to the experience as we passed beautiful red and green lakes, dotted with illuminous pink flamingos, before descending into Chile's Atacama desert. In our group we were lucky to make acquaintance with a Canadian guy and an Aussie girl who saved the day. The remaining 8 of the two car strong expedition were French. Enough said. 

Crossing into Chile, the dirt roads and poor conditions behind us, we rolled down from 4200m to 2400m in 45 minutes. This on made roads sporting painted lines and smart white crash barriers. A contrast indeed.

Just one night in Chile followed as our impatience to reach Argentina again got the better of us! It feels a little like coming home.

PaSx