Upon arrival in Potosi we tried to find a taxi to take us to our hostel. However, taxi's in Bolivia have not adopted the same approach as the rest of the world with easily identifiable taxis all the same colour. Instead to turn a car into a taxi all you need is a batman shaped sign saying taxi and apparently your then qualified. Once we had worked this out we weaved our way through the narrow streets to our hostel. Before long Mel, Gosta and I went for a walk through town. The town itself was very grimy and you could tell it was a mining town. We went for lunch in a small restaurant when the heavens opened. It rained for the rest of the day unfortunately, which meant apart from some time uploading photos in an internet cafe not a lot was achieved for the rest of the day.

Next morning however i was up bright and early ready for the tour of the mines. We put on some overalls, hard hat, lights and boots and around 14 of us got on a minibus to the mines. On the way we stopped off at a small store to buy gifts for the miners, which is a custom that has somehow been adopted and now expected. On arriving at the small store we were literally thrown a stick of dyanamite each, which we all rather nervously caught as if our lives depended on it (well they sort of did!!).

The dynamite itself was stable though and we were told (no one risked it) that you could hold a lighter to it, or throw it on the floor and it would be fine. We were also shown the fuses, made of gunpowder, and then finally the detonators made from nito glycerine and which were not stable. These were in a metal case and were the only item the miners genuinely took any care of because we were told if you dropped these you could expect a bang!

We were also told to try some of the local whiskey, a custom before entering the mine. Sure enough we didnt refuse, and i tell you what...96% alcohol content really packs a punch!!!!

Once we had all recovered and removed the tears from our eyes we bought some whiskey, gloves and jiuce each to give to the miners. After we jumped back in the bus and headed up to the mine.

The mine itself has been there for hundred of years and thousands, maybe millions of people have died inside. Particularly, during the slave trade when 20 African slaves were used at a time to replace a single donkey because they could work quicker. The conditions in the mine were awful and if health and safety was lapse today it was completely non-existent in the past.

Given the hideous history of the mine and the carefree handling of dynamite I think it is fair to say i was slightly apprehensive of entering.

The mine itself was used predominantly for silver, although in recent years tin and other elements are mined more as the silver stock is depleting. There are up to 17 levels of tunnels inside the mine, and at the last survey in 2003 over 90km of tunnels!!

Inside the mine there is up to 15,000 people working and there are no longer any private companies operating in the mines, these all ceased production in the 90's and now mining co-operatives are used instead. We were assured this was a good thing however...

None of the mining co-operatives tell each other which way they are mining or when they are blowing up dynamite, instead a "every co-operative, and every miner for themselves" approach has been adopted, which seems rather ludicrous. However, it also means the co-operatives set the rules, so previously drinking and smoking in the mines was forbidden by the companies, now this is encouraged to deal with the conditions and basically have a blast (excuse the pun) in the mine.

When we actually entered the mine things suddenly got very real and after about 70-80m of ducking down under the 5ft tunnels we reached a crossroads. Around the corner was a couple of miners drilling with a pneumatic drill, with the tube for the air snaking through the tunnels behind them. Gosta and I were told to wait at the crossroads, whilst the other 6 people in our group waited further behind. We were to view the miners 2 at a time and we were up first.

We were sat on our haunches discussing the upcoming sight when suddenly a huge BANG went off from under our feet and dust and small stones went everywhere. In the following panic we checked we still had all our limbs and waited for help. Our guide soon turned up and it was clear that the tube of air had been blown apart at a weak joint causing the bang, and then blew air and thus all the dust up as a result. A little shaken we collected our nerves and when all was fixed went into the view the miners. The methods were primitive at best, with 2 men hauling a giant handheld pneumatic drill and dust flying everywhere. They did this for up to an hour each before rotating, but a shift could easily last 12 hours or more.

Once we had viewed the drilling we returned to the crossroads with the other 6 in our group. At this point the tubing blew apart again, and one miner even legged it past us back towards the mine entrance. For most of the goup this was enough, so after 80m or so 5 of them turned back leaving just Gosta, an Englishmen and myself, but first we were given the gifts from the others before they left.

After the second incident we saw the co-operative chief and he asked us to give him some whiskey. It was seen as bad luck for the pipe to blow twice, so of course we needed a drink. Every time you sip the whiskey it is customary to pour some on the floor - once for the mountain devil, once for mother earth, and if you choose, once to protect the group, and once for yourself - then you drink. This went on for a while until an entire bottle of whiskey was consumed. After we went and saw a mountain devil shrine in one of the tunnels and repeated the drinking in front of the sculpture. After we snaked our way through the mines until we met another co-operative that were mining. They were not using a drill like before, but were collecting the rocks after a blast they had performed earlier. However, not a lot of work seemed to be done as we drank whiskey with each of the miners and called each other 'goma´s', or gay as it translates - mining humour i guess.

After a while the 4 of us (inlcuding the guide) moved on and met another group of miners where the drinking was repeated. By now us 3 tourists were in agreement that the alcohol was starting to take effect. Finally we went to see a different method of mining, but to do involved scambling our way through a gap only just big enough for our bodies. Once we had squeezed through we saw one miner operating a winch down a 30m shaft where 2 more miners were working just above the water level and filling a large bucket with the rubble after a blast. We were told that to get up and down the well they sit in the bucket and are winched up and down, but that sometimes the electricity can get cut off so they can be stuck there. I asked what happens when they put the dynamite into blast though, what if the electricity cuts out then. The response was simple 'then its your time to go, the mine still eats people'.

So after that rather unsettling remark and 2 hours in he mine, the tour was over and we found our drunken way back out of the tunnels into fresh air once more. We met the others, who had been waiting for 1hr and 55m outside and got the bus back down into town. After an afternoon siesta Mel, Gosta and I caught the afternoon bus to Sucre.