The journey from Uyuni to La Paz can easily be described as the worst i've experienced in my incredibly modest career as a traveller. Half of the journey was undertaken on unpaved roads so rough my kidneys attempted a desperate dash to freedom through my left nostril. Amazingly I wasn't sick and a additional bonus was the unexpected, and much needed toning my abs received. You could have bounced a six pence off them when i wearily stepped off into the early morning havoc of La Paz. This was not the end of my discomfort - after several days in the mountains each breath felt like your head was stuck in an exhaust pie and with the city being the world's highest capital (at some 3600m above sea level), the afore mentioned issues of altitude still cause some problems of breathlessness. If science is to be believed however, in a reading which suprised me, my O2 use is 94%, which means I have adapted well to altitude. Astonishingly this was undertaken through a simple thumb clip, and strikes me as similar to the witchcraft involved in dry cleaning (please can someone explain to me how cleaning is possible without water?), a mystery which I know gives Angus Sutherland many a sleepless night.

It is at this point that Danny and I have again joined forces, Simon and Garfunkel style, fresh from his steak dinners in Argentina. The beam on his face when he told me he had two in one sitting was so bright it probably melted an area the size of Belgium off the polar ice cap. We spent our first day exploring the Witches Market, a street full of shops offering curiousities such as mate de coca, and other herbal remedies to bizarrely llama foetuses. Yep that's right, dead baby llamas. Apparently by burying these under the corners of your new home (presumably before it's constructed) it'll bring you good fortune. It was here however that we picked up the Gap Yaah Classics - Alpaca jumpers, gloves and socks with mixed (limited) haggling success.

The Sunday was spent on another South American classic - mountain biking down the notorious Death Road, which although now semi-closed, claims around 11 tourists per year undertaking this very activity. With Luna Cycles, we were in capable hands. Brand new kit and just four of us in the group, Johannes and Tobias joining us who i had travelled the salt flats with. Our guide, Omar, was thorough at all points, and informed us he held the record for the Yungas Road as is its proper name, with a time of just 1 hour 37 minutes... Whilst our speed was incomparable to those imagined, the trip was still exhilirating. The first 22km are down the mountains on tarmac road to attain a feel for the bikes, with one key aspect being that the brake handles operate the opposite wheels to what we're used to... After that, it's onto the main event, 33km down El Camino de la Muerte. At some stages, the drops are some 600m down to the jungle, and with the road just about wide enough for one car at stages, it's beyond belief that before the new highway was built on the opposing side of the valley, lorries and coaches used to travel this dailly. The views on offer are difficult to appreciate when your eyes are glued to the road, hands clenched to the handlebars and sweat poring off your forehead, and whilst the ride is the ultimate thrill, the number of memorials and mourners changing roadside grave flowers give a stark reminder of how dangerous this road was, and still is.