We overslept and set off a bit too late but we crossed the border without any problems and immediately liked Bolivia. For a border town it was quite nice. We had missed the morning bus to Potosi but took the opportunity to get the afternoon train to Tupiza, and from there we could get a night bus to Potosi. As it was still quite early when we crossed the border, people were setting up their stalls and shops and it just seemed quite relaxed. There were lots of women in traditional dress of a bowler hat or trilby with two long plaits, full skirts and a pinafore, huge bags of coca leaves for sale and all the same kind of stuff you see in markets. The sun was shining (as usual!) and the temperature was pleasant in the high altitude and we had a nice dinner of chicken, rice and salad in a local food place (we didn´t know how much this meal would feature in the next week) and we did some of our overdue internet jobs.

The only seats left on the train were ´executivo’, the most expensive ones, but they were still affordable and our best option. The carriage contained only tourists, which was a bit weird after all of our time on local buses. It even had a screen showing ´Australia’ but we listened to our I-pod and just watched the scenery. We saw more amazing mountains and tiny settlements of adobe houses, and also a bus which had crashed over a cliff, which was a bit worrying given that we were to do the rest of our travelling on the same kind of bus. In Tupiza we went straight to the bus station, booked our tickets and went to a nice market stall nearby for some chicken, chips and rice. The night bus was ok and we arrived at 4.30am in Potosi (it was very cold!), after a 7 ½ hour journey.

We found a nice, empty hostel (which we much prefer to those full of backpackers, now we are revelling in our antisociability). After an extremely cold night (so cold we could not even move in the bed and we never warmed up, even with lots of blankets) we took a wander round Potosi and decided to take advantage of the lower living costs to get some laundry done. Potosi is beautiful, and it really felt like we were in a different land entirely. The old colonial buildings and cobbled, steep streets are surrounded by mountains and were framed by a brilliant blue sky. It is the highest city in the world, and we were definitely feeling the altitude whilst we walked around (as usual tending to use the legs a bit more than the brain). There were lots of people out and about, and at first we were wondering if it was still Easter (we had lost track of time again and Easter seemed to have been going on for weeks here). Then we found out that actually everyone was on strike and that the roads were blocked by protests, so we couldn´t get the bus to the hot springs nearby. We still spent a pleasant afternoon breathlessly walking about and then managed to find an alternative to chicken and chips – chicken soup.

Political protest is pretty big round here. At the moment the si/no campaign for Morales to have a second term is high on the agenda. Graffiti and posters for both sides are in every town. We even heard a political broadcast by one man on a bus, before he launched into selling a herbal remedy as a fund raiser.

The next day we were up early to take a tour of the silver mine, Cerro Rico, on which the town is founded. Potosi used to be one of the wealthiest cities in South America, and 8 million slaves died here. The average wage is now 200 bolivianos per week – not bad for Bolivia but the conditions are awful. It is now owned by a co-operative which has both members and non-members – the members get a better deal in terms of security and pay taxes. But since it was privatised no-one bothers with health and safety regulations and its quite dangerous, and there is no fixed salary, it is dependent on how much is mined. Most of the silver is now gone and they are now mining for tin and zinc. The tour started with a visit to the miners’ market to buy dynamite, coca leaves, cigarettes and soft drinks for the miners. We tried some coca but found it much to bitter to be chewing on a golf-ball sized lump as is the done thing. It is supposed to help not only with the altitude but enabling one to work harder and supress hunger. The mine was pretty grim, of course. Almost immediately we were bent double and in total darkness, apart from out headtorches, then we were crawling on our hands and knees through narrow tunnels. We saw one of the shrines where workers pray to the ´devil’ and miners hauling tons of metal along basic tracks. Where they were actively drilling it was so dusty it was impossible to even see your hand in front of your face. Quite fittingly, it was raining as we came outside, and it added to the depressed feeling of the place but at least we could rinse off some dust.

After that I managed to persuade Lawrence to go to the hot springs near Potosi. We caught a local bus which dropped us off with intructions somewhere along the lines of “its on the other side of that hill, the last bus back is at 6.30” . We climbed the hill and to our delight found a massive, empty lagoon in a depression on top of the hill/volcano, so you could see beautiful, colourful mountainous scenery while swimming around in warm water. And we were the only people there. Gorgeous. The day was a success – we even got back our lost bankcard (which I forgot to take out of the machine the day before as the order of getting cash and card is different in Bolivia) from the bank and found some delicious vegetable soup for lunch. So we celebrated in the evening with some more chicken and chips. Seriously, we couldn´t find anything else to eat. Well, on our budget anyway.

We were sorry to leave Potosi, but in the morning headed to Santa Cruz, via Sucre. In Sucre I ate a 4-course cheap lunch but Easter (still?) meant that we missed Casa de Liberdad, which looked like an excellent museum. Sucre was a nice place – whitewashed buildings, tree-lined plazas and a chocolate shop, but outside of the centre it looked a little rougher. It also had a great market, full of fruit, both fresh and dried. We caught our bus at 5pm and arrived in Santa Cruz at 11am the next day. The journey was fine (we are starting to really enjoy the chance to sit, read and listen to music, or just sleep) but when we arrived in Santa Cruz we found out that the border with Paraguay (our ultimate destination) was closed for Easter. So we had to stay the night in Santa Cruz and get the evening bus the next day. No problem, but then Lawrence did the same thing as me and left the cash card in the machine. The guy who had sold us our bus tickets drove him to the bank but it was closed. Then when they got back, he gave us a lift to somewhere we could find a bed for the night. People here have been really friendly and kind, we’ve been on our guard (obviously not enough, back in Argentina) but everybody is always “hey, amigo...” and helping us in some way.

We spent the afternoon wandering round leafy Plaza 24 de Septiembre, and a dirty lagoon surrounded by people performing tricks and selling either politics or religion, or just more maté additives, we weren’t sure. We also went to another market selling things that excite Lawrence (electric cables etc.) and then stuck around the plaza – not only was it lovely and warm after our time in the highlands, but a religious procession was about to start. So we waited for a while (and Lawrence was annoyed to find out that because of this no alcohol was being sold in town) but got bored and headed off home for some cheap dinner. The area in which we were staying was decidely non-gringo and we were pleased to pop across the road for some fish (as its Friday we get a break from chicken!), chips, rice and salad at a cheap street stall. While we were eating we saw the plaza on TV, with now hundreds or thousands of people listening to the bishop’s (?) speech – he was asking the country not to divide and fight over the si/no issue (we think). The next day it was also really hot and we spent it failing to get the cashcard back, failing to find another market that we were looking for, and failing to get any money. But we saw more of the city, which was pleasant, before heading to finally get our bus to Asuncion in Paraguay.

We were under the impression that this journey through the Chaco would take around 30 hours and be fairly gruelling. There was plenty of getting off and on the bus throughout the journey– to get passports stamped or checked, bags searched (very thoroughly) etc. Apparently this is a very popular smuggling route. The scenery was monotonous to say the least – scrub with barely a shack or cow in hundreds of miles. It was also pretty hot with no air-con but I was getting into my new BBCR4 downloads along with some new mixes. The journey was not bad and in fact when we arrived in Asuncion we were almost disappointed not to have another 6 hours on the bus.

We caught a local bus and arrived at our pension, which was nice and homely. It might be Easter still, or perhaps just a Sunday, but most places are shut. We ate really good food at a place near Plaza de Los Heroes – just pasta, and beef wrapped round a carrot but after our diet of empanadas and chicken and chips it was fantastic, and to be honest way above our budget. But it was disconcerting to be eating on the street amongst the affluent Paraguayans and tourists and seeing people park their 4x4s, while across the street tiny children are trying to sell gum, beg or ask for money for looking after the parked cars. Plaza Uruguay is full of people and looks like a really shoddy festival – there are tents made out of binbags, washing hanging up and people just living there. It was surreal to see one woman sweeping her ´home’. In the day food and other stuff is for sale there, and it does look like a community.

The next day was hot, and although it’s Monday (perhaps Easter Monday again?!) everything seems shut. But we went on our own walking tour and visited the Casa de Liberdad here. It’s strange as the streets in the centre seem empty. We went to the supermarket and cooked some dinner, which we shouldn’t have in a pension, but the matriarch of the house came and chatted to us afterwards and it was ok. As I collected our laundry the next morning I walked straight into the aftermath of a theft/robbery, with the woman crying, people all fussing about and the police chatting up the girls. But we got a local bus to Aregua, which was a very weird place. It is on the ‘tourist circuit’ (bearing in mind that hardly any tourists come to Paraguay) and apparently gets busy on the weekends. When we were there it was very empty and hot, and most people must have been having a siesta. We saw the very dirty lake, old train station (a train comes here every fortnight from Asuncion) and lots of crazy tacky ceramics for sale. We also saw an excellent art shop and a nice church on top of a steep hill overlooking the village. Back in Asuncion we went out for dinner with some lovely English guys we met at the pension and thoroughly enjoyed their company and our posh (for us) meal.

We travelled by bus to Ciudad del Este in order to cross the border there before heading to Puerto Iguazu in Argentina. Another crappy border crossing which could have turned bad but ended up ok - you have to cross from Ciudad del Este In Paraguay into Brazil and from the border get a bus to Puerto Iguazu in Argentina. We got the entry stamps fine, but then there was no sign of any bus and we got lots of different versions of where the bus should be and what it looked like. The sun was setting and as it did, the area became one in which we did not feel particularly safe wandering around, lost, with full backpacks.

I spoke to a taxi driver from Paraguay who was telling me not to walk to the bus terminal and having walked there earlier we sensed he was right. Still, we just wanted to catch the bloody bus, as we knew that missing the last one was a very bad thing to do. Then he offered to take us somewhere where we could catch the bus and having no other option we went with him, he seemed ok but we were a bit wary. First he and his friends had to do some loading and unloading of the boot which looked a bit dodgy. He explained that electronics (which is what they were transporting) are much cheaper in Paraguay than Brazil. So with his friend/son driving, we all set off and soon he stopped on a random road and we didn’t know what to think. He was telling Lawrence outside that the bus goes from here, while his friend was telling me that there are no more buses. And there wasn’t a bus stop or anything. We asked to be dropped off at the terminal somewhere, and we drove off again. Lawrence was looking back along the road, and to our delight the bus was following us. Then the guys stopped the bus, helped us with our bags and onto the bus, and took no money at all from us! Phew! We were more than happy to be on the right bus, as we had been messing about for hours and it looked like it was all going badly. Travelling is always full of surprises, some bad but mostly good. We met a guy called Franco on the bus, and a couple at the border crossing into Argentina, and Franco took us all to a hostel when we arrived in Puerto Iguazu.