The bus from Uyuni left at around 8pm (it was supposed to leave at 7pm but hey, this was Bolivia, nothing ever leaves on time). This was awkward given that the journey was only seven hours, meaning that we reached Tupiza at 3am in the morning.

Once at the terminal in Tupiza, we went to the first and only hostel on our list (HI Tupiza). Unfortunately this seemed to be totally closed and despite numerous rings of the bell, we didn´t get an answer. Next, we went to a place a little further up the road. Here, a nice man let us in and Nicki and I decided to have a look around while Tess and Stevo guarded the bags. The place was a hole. The toilet/showers were tiny and the beds looked like they had been taken from a 1940s army barracks. We decided to leave and as we did we spotted another HI Tupiza. We headed here and this time we were in luck. Another nice old man greeted us and kindly let us stay the remainder of the night in our rooms without charge (normally we would have had to have waited until 10am to check in).

Despite getting in in the early hours, we knew we had to be up and about that morning as we were on a tight schedule for Tupiza. We headed out for breakfast and booked onto a 3-hour horse riding tour that afternoon. On the way to the bus that would take us to the stables, we bumped into Theresa, the Czech girl we had met in Sucre. She had an entourage with her and we agreed to meet for dinner. She pointed at someone and said: ´Look who I´ve brought with me´. I had no idea who this bearded blonde person was but it was quite obvious that I apparently knew him. I smiled and nodded politely, having been caught totally off guard. We moved on to catch our bus and this nagged at me all day.

When we got to the stables, we were given some hilarious Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid gear and shown our horses. Nicky and Stevo had the most experience riding. Mine was limited to the ride in Cuba, which terrified me, and Tessa had no previous experience at all. From the off, we had some difficulties. Tessa´s horse went off down a side road, and our horses followed closely behind. Unfortunately, this wasn´t where we were meant to go. We asked the ´guide´ (he was about 18 years old) if we should turn around, but he just shrugged his shoulders and said keep going.

Nicky was getting more and more agitated as she convinced herself that her horse was agitated and ready to bolt at any minute. Finally, she decided to change horses with the guide, and both horse and Nicky seemed to be much happier afterwards. The scenery around us was absolutely amazing. It really felt like we were in the Wild West. We rode along a dusty path, surrounded by cacti and various leafless trees, with large hillsides either side of us, going from gray to red to green in colour.

Every time the horses decided to trot my heart rate went through the roof as I felt I was going to fall off any minute. Strangely, when they sped up into a gallop I felt fine. As we kept going, the horses seemed to want to misbehave more and more. My horse would constantly try and get ahead of the others and once she did she would turn back to face them and refuse to move or turn back in the right direction. That is until the guide came and made some noises that seemed to scare the crap out of her. Stevo´s horse refused to get into a gallop at any stage, and Nicky´s new horse seemed to want to stand still the whole time. Tess´ horse was also wanting to be at the front and annoyingly never seemed to want to trot or gallop, and as soon as someone tried to overtake, he would try and block. At one stage we reached a small passageway at the top of a small hillock. Tess´ horse decided to stand in the path and refuse to move. My horse, despite my instruction, wanted to pass and so decided to take the rocky, slippery way down. I thought I was going to fall off and get trampled by this thing, but somehow, I managed to jeep my hold on the reins and my feet in the stirrups and keep control.

The ride was really stunning. The horses kept things interesting with their misbehaviour. At one stage, we stopped for a break and Stevo decided to climb a narrow, steep crevace in the hillside. He got up really quick but soon realised he was stuck. We watched as he tried for around 25 minutes to get himself down. It was quite amusing, except for the fact that wherever he put his hands and feet, the rock seemed to crumble away.
He was a good 20ft up but finally managed to find himself a secure hold and got himself down.

We all totally forgot how tired we were and once back at the hostel, headed out for dinner. There were around twelve of us for dinner that night. We went to a restaurant and were promptly shown to our seats and handed the huge book-like menus. After 15 minutes or so, the waitress came over and having heard the first order of steak, she decided this would be a good time to tell us that there was no ´carne´ meaning beef, and in fact all they had from the huge menu were a few national chicken dishes, pizza and pasta. So, she went away and returned ten minutes later to take our second choice orders.

Nicky, Tess, Stevo and I shared a couple of bottles of wine, and Stevo and I went and bought three more bottles while we were waiting for our food. After dinner, the other group headed to their hostel and we were planning to do likewise but on the way back, Stevo spotted something strange. I heard him say: ´Viv mate, you have to come and see this´. Tessa who was next to him looked into the travel agency that he was staring at and said: ´Oh my god. Is that a girl or a boy?´ The next thing we knew, in her slightly drunkn state, she opened the door and asked: ´Es un hombre?´, meaning ´is this a man?´. I heard some laughs from inside and as I turned the corner, I saw a skinny Bolivian lad, with makeup on, in a very effeminate top and long baggy trousers. I could see why she was struggling to guess the gender. There were two friends in there with him, and they explained to us that he was practising for a dance show. We asked if we could watch and they welcomed us in. It was a really strange evening, but a funny one. We opened the bottles of wine and watched this kid dance and sing. In truth, he was absolutely awful. Tess tried to show him how we dance in clubs back home, which was hilarious. After we polished off the wine, we headed to a bar (seemingly the only bar in the town) where there was some live music. We started to knock back the Cuba Libres and met a bunch of people that worked for a different travel agency there.

A couple of hours in, one of the workers came over and asked us all to pay BOL 10, which for some reason someone assumed was a toilet charge. We were all indignant - how could they charge us for using the toilet when we had spent so much money on drinks in the place. We argued this point for a couple of minutes and then he explained that it was a cover charge for the band, not a toilet charge. Slightly embarassed, we paid our BOL 10 and left soonafter.

The following day, we walked through some more multicoloured canyons. We bought some empanadas beforehand and had a picnic in the sun, surrounded by the multicoloured hillsides. It was a beautiful day and helped with the headaches from all the Cuba Libres the night before.

We spent some time in the town, eating before catching a bus to our next and last destination in Bolivia, Tarija.