Thursday morning was very hectic. There had been riots in Peru the day before and hundreds of people were flocking to the borders in an attempt to flee the country and escape arrest. This meant there would be larger queues and extra police at the border, we were hoping to cross, into Bolivia. We decided to leave earlier than planned and said goodbye to Puno at 5am. Still dark, it was a beautiful city and a great view, which would be our last of Peru. A perfect scene for reflection. It's easy to speak well of something or someone in hindsight or recollection so I'll try to be as honest as I can about Peru, a most remarkable country, almost a little world in itself. I have mixed feelings, none of them bad. The question I continue to ask is "how can I explain what it felt like to be in the mountains, jungle and desert all at one time?" I suppose, really, I can't, because it was an experience so new to me. To look around at so many unseen sights and be completely oblivious that only across the water is home, with broadband, fast food, toilet paper and bills, leaves a sense of, what can only be described as, an ease I had never felt before. What will be a lasting memory of Peru, I'm sure, is the immeasurable pride these people have in everything they do, have and are. Not one person I met seemed like they were longing for anything. Not one person had a case of the "green eyed monster." Just contentment with what was there. Plain old, taken for granted, contentment. Is this sense of self assurance a product of their society? I don't know, but, it's a lesson learnt. I'm under no illusions that my return to the UK will wipe some of these lessons from the forefront of my mind but for now, at least, it's here, in black and white. I was, once, impressed with simple serenity and gratitude. I hope I never forget that.
Crossing the border into Bolivia was a tense experience, our first border crossing! When we arrived it became clear that most people had had the same idea as us and left just as early. The queue was atleast three hours long and none of us were tempted by a morning on a truck in blistering heat with no food. Luckily, our driver managed to speak to some of the officials at the front of the queue and, for reasons better left unknown, they agreed to let us through the border straight away. And so we went, quickly. The features of the people there seemed to change instantly and it was easier to see the differences between Peruvians and Bolivians. After two more passport checks by the military we were on our way to LA Paz! Arriving at a city just outside we could see La Paz, like a bowl in the distance. The property market here values houses in the bottom of the "bowl" as more expensive than those at the top as being at altitude this high, every metre makes a difference. La Paz, for me, was a little dull. I picked up a nice little bit of food poisoning and spent the better part of our stay there in bed, in a fair bit of pain. Dan, however, while my stomach insisted I never leave the bathroom, found tickets for us to see the World Cup qualifying match between Bolivia and Brazil the next day. Two tickets and two football shirts cost us as much as a cinema ticket back home! So the next day, in our fake Bolivia shirts, with the colours of the flag painted on our faces (with car paint I hasten to add) we squeezed our bottoms onto the concrete seats of the Bolivian Stadium. Not a football fan myself, I sat in the blinding sun wondering what on earth I had agreed to. I needn't have worried. I had an amazing time. Even the farmers came to watch the game, bringing any animal too young to be left at home and baby bottles to feed them at half time! The Bolivians are so passionate and friendly I almost forgot I was English and found my fingers firmly crossed for them. There were a few incidents with flares and fireworks, the removal of a Jewish flag from the crowd and a pitch invader but the riot police put a stop to this very quickly. Bolivia won 2-0. As I said I'm not a football fan but I'm assured this was a little unexpected! The game ended in glory for our friends sat all around us and we joined them in the streets of La Paz for a few celebrations while trying to find our way home. We stopped by a little Indian place near to our hotel for dinner and Dan immediately ordered the chicken Vindaloo. With 25 extra chillies and a health warning in the menu, it's considered the most dangerous vindaloo in the world. And so he ate it, with as much effort as I've ever seen him muster. They were so impressed they gave him a free t-shirt for his troubles.
The next day we were back on our trusty old truck and on our way to Potosi, home to Cirro Rico, once the world's wealthiest silver mine. Potosi, although very pretty, had little to offer, so the entire group donned sleeping bags in the main lounge, ordered pizza and watched TV. We were all exhausted and it was a much needed rest. In the morning we drove for about five hours before reaching Sucre, considered by those who live there as the "real capital" of Bolivia. We arrived later than expected as there is a huge diesel shortage in Bolivia right now. And so we are here in Sucre for a few days, so that we can venture out onto the salt flats and visit the dinosaur footprints!

Thought of the Day: To the amateur photographer - there are always more footballers than lambs in a football stadium!