Last night was a great last saturday night in La Paz. Despite Rodrigo being difficult for sake of being difficult, as per usual, and not allowing Marion's friends to come to our BX house for drinks, it was still a great evening.

We went out to their house, but not before having brought some coffee liqour and singani, which would make me sleepy more than anything and stop me from making it to Malagria, a nearby Afro-Boliviano night club.

By 'their' I mean Clarissa, a German working at their consulate and her boyfriend Luis. Me, Marion and Rafaela played drinking games and had a fantastically fun evening of silliness before I grabbed a dirty burger and some kip.

I really can't believe it is my last day in La Paz. It feels like I'm still in the middle of something, I feel given the opportunity I would definitely come back and do this programme again. It really is unrivalled and unique, the city and the country in general have so much to unearth and discover.

For my last day in this fascinating country, I headed with Rafaela and Anna to El Alto, to the spectacular sunday market. We took the local yellow teleferico line from Sopocachi which meant we had a bit of a walk through the dusty backstreets of El Alto before we reached the market.

It's a phenomenal, mind-blowing place. Road after road chock-full of used car parts, stickers, bowler hats, indigenous garments, rellenos (plantain packed pastries), empanadas and jumpers which I happily brought for myself, my nan and one of my distant nephews/nieces depending on how fits into it.

It was a bit of a marathon, pretty much lapping a quarter of this massive, sprawling city of a million people that sits on the valley rim overlooking La Paz. When La Paz could expand no further, the migrating masses set up stock in El Alto making the city the youngest and most dynamic in the country.

The walk back from the market to the yellow teleferico was when it really started to hit me. Leaving Bolivia. The walk was atmospheric to say the least. The wind buffeted us to the sound of gunfire from nearby protests, as stray dogs nipped at our heels and the rattling corrugated iron buildings were occasionally interspersed with magnificent views of the snowcapped mountains and the glistening skyscrapers of the city below.

I've probably had my last choripan, a Bolivian hot dog, from what is now my favourite fast food stand in the world, on Plaza Espana just outside the supermarket. Annoyingly I've had to get a bit of cash out as I spent my last on the jumpers, but I couldn't leave El Alto empty handed.

Wow. Bolivia you are incredible. La Paz is phenomenal. Bolivian Express has been the best decision made this year. On to Peru we go, two mega-bus rides of 1000km combined in three days. I've gotten good feedback on my Inti Wara Yassi article, its pretty much the same little having to be changed. It's exciting, but also going to be a bit of a shock to the system undergoing such rapid change so quickly. Anyway, adios Bolivian Express!

Vamos!