We were woken early by the coach assistant with a type of chocolate cocopops cereal and some pinapple yoghurt. In my groggy state I try to work out where we are by wiping the misted window to reveal lots of trafffic around us on a tarmac road so I conclude from this that we must be near a major city. Tarmac however doesn't necessarily mean the road is smooth especially in the rainy season with great simularities to Sheffield roads in places but it was a damn site better then the 180km of dirt roads we had endured at the start of our 12 hour bus journey to La Paz where the bus rocked from side to side and eventually got beached on the mud around midnight meaning another passing coach had to pull us out and then our on board mechanic set to work with spanners to repair any damages.

We mix our cereal into our yoghurt, after some of the culinery delights we have tasted this seems like the right thing to do. Before long we realise we are circling La Paz from the top of its basin like shape at 4000m giving great views of the city. We descend to around 3700m into the city with smoking brakes to the bus terminal. Thankfully for us our hostel is not far from the bus terminal so we don't have far to walk. After freshening up and a breakfast of pancakes we head out to meet up with Franzi, Kevin, Franko and Julie to book a bike trip down death road. We had heard that La Paz was very dangerous so we nervously make our way through the bustling city making sure our purses are difficult to reach for any pick pockerters. Our nervousness is not eased by the menacing looking shoe shine boys scattered throughout the city who wear rugged balaclavas as well as a cap. The balaclaver is worn to hide the identity of the shoe shine boy or dustbin man as the job is seen as the lowest of the low and is an embarrasment to them. The city seems to be busy 24/7 with traffic beeping. Mini vans acting as public buses advertising where they are going by a man or women in the back quickly chanting over and over the destination and seemingly not stopping for breath. Over half of the ladies are wearing traditional clothes made up of a bulky long concerteenered style skirt, a blouse, a shawl, hair in 2 long plats with some curtain tie accessories and a floating bowler hat to finish. We later find out that the hats were introduced in the early 1900's for upperclass men but they didnt like them so with a mass of hats spare shop keepers/ fashion gurus at the time re-introduced them as a upper class female trend which was very successfull. The poorer ladies wanted to immitate this trend to look good too and they have been wearing them ever since. There is also now a significance to how they are worn to let you know if the lady is married or not. So if you are single you wear your had slightly to the side but if you are married it should be straight on the top of your head.

The city also has a strong police presence complete with bug guns and riot shields in some cases. We are uncertain if this is a good or bad sign.

On route we bump into Franko who is still wearing his tell tale wooly hat and bright orange sunglasses so is easy to spot. Franko guides us to his hostel via government buildings and a city square full of pigeons. Franko and I feed the pigeons who are not afraid to clamber all over you and any other pigeon to get to some food. Andy stays a safe distance away. Meeting with the rest of the guys we book our trip on death road and then Andy and I head off back to the hostel to relax for a few hours. Later that evening we met up for a curry with Kate and Jamie who we had met twice in Asia. With the lure of a free t-shirt Jamie goes for the hottest curry on the menu. One condition. He must eat it all. Our food arrives and Jamie's hot hot hot curry is much bigger then ours. Jamie sets to work and the effort is obvious even after a few mouthfulls as he starts to turn pink and glossy. After what turned out to be a marathon of ups, downs and fullness Jamie completes the curry and is awarded the glorious T-shirt. We hear from Kate the next day to say that Jamie was a little ill after the curry but hey at least he has a t-shirt to say he has done it!

The next day we meet early for our Death Road trip. What had i got myself into? Franzi, Kevin, Andy and I all get into a mini bus and are driven to the top of the pass at 4700m where we prepared to start our cycle. The first section was above death road on a tarmac road that gradually crept down a valley in between spectacular mountains and moody low grey clouds. Although this section was not technically part of death road it had more then its fair share of crosses marked on the sides and even some vehical wreckage left in the valley bottom. Again I was wondering what I'd signed myself up for? What a numpty!

The traffic on the road was light and overtaking lorries seemed surpringly very patient and well mannered with us. After 20 minutes or so of this we were herded back into the mini bus and driven the rest of the way to start Death Road. The road was a wet, misty gravel track with a sheer drop to the left side. How this actually ever functioned as a main road into La Paz for traffic of all shapes and sizes is beyond me as mostly it seemed you could only fit one vehicle going one way. For any one who knows me well you will not be surprised that I was super slow compared to the rest of my group and also other groups as well. What can I say? I'm definatly no mountain biker especially if there's a huge drop on one side that if you go there you are unlikely to come back from and our guide made sure we were aware of every spot someone had gone over the edge. We past under water falls, over land slips, though streams and around bend after bend heading downwards. You would be surprised how much energy you use just going down, concentrating on what line to take and keeping a hold of your brakes. I would be surprised if there were any brakes left on my bike after me using it.

We stop for snacks on route and gradually the weather improves to reveal a sunny day. My spirits improve as I realise that we must have completed the most difficullt top section and perhaps we are nearly at the end. My fingers as well as still being firmly planted on the brakes causing my forearms to become pumped are also crossed in hope. After 2.5 hours of down down down and some more down to 1400m we reach the bottom and have lunch in a lovely retreat full of fruit trees and savage sand flies. To our horror we realise the mini bus taking us back to La Paz will be driving us back up Death Road. Although our driver was good, slow and didnt have any other vehicles to pass I would rather have walked back up.

Over the next few days we gradually feel more at ease in La Paz and start to notice that the locals are relaxed and laid back, no one walks fast and hot dogs are very popular.

Whilst in La Paz we also went to see the cholitas wrestling. The highlight here was their local female wrestlers in traditional clothes pulling each others platts and roughly chucked about by each other and by other men wrestlers and some of that stuff had to hurt! We were sat on the front row and had to have quick reflexes for when wrestlers were thrown over the fence at us.