Hermanas? Amigas.

And so… the end is near… here`s the final curtain… you know the rest.  

Where did we leave you stranded?  Sucre!  Land of the posh in Bolivia.  From there we flew through the skies to La Paz again for an overnight stop in el posho hotel.  Shoppio till nous droppio and an evening of traditional Bolivian spectaculars.  Theatre, dance (including participation from us whities) and some ridiculous costumes. 

Hannah ate a guinea pig!  She is thrilled.  Trio of Andean animals complete, and in her belly.  Amy had omlette again… oh how she has grown to love the humble huevo. 

Colombia!!!  Coming back to the Finca was like coming home- sweet as a nutty. 

Had some rum and coke almost immediately.  Standard.  The clock is ticking, babes and you know the score.  Went to pick up our compadre, a Mr. Luigi.  He was delayed.  We exhausted ourselves preparing a welcome dance for his arrival (he would see us through a glass wall when he went to baggage collection- ideal circs for such an event), however his tardiness cost him dearly, we were bored and tired, and we barely looked at him when he arrived.  THAT IS WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING LATE.

Jokes!  We were over the moon to have a new travelling bud. 

BED.  Next day we went riding for several hours.  It was aces high.

 “It´s not going to rain, is it?”

“Maybe, but let`s all just get wet together.  It`s fine”.

Cue:  One fat (and phat) stormy beauty.  Wind, thunder, rain.  Rain.  RAINNNNN.  One would think this might dampen the spirits (get it? See what we did there?) but oooooh noooo.  We are now FREE spirits, remembs.  Cue:  Excited steeds pounding on cobbled Andean slopes.  It was amazing!

Chilled at the finca for a couple of days under the bootiful hospitality of Rosie, Pietro and Gabriella.  We couldn`t have been better cared for.  Fanks!!  From the bottom of our bottoms.

Who wants to sleep outdoors in the jungle?  Me, Miss, Meeee! 

Here is our jungle lodge, nestled in the trees, where we spent 3 days and two splendid nights... Rio Claro, a nature reserve 3 hours drive from the farm. 

Having been bitten a great deal by mosquitos on this trip, Hannah (above) is what some might call paranoid about this.  As a result, she dressed mainly in head to toe thermals, wrapped in a mosquito net,  in this tropical climate.  Did this stop them from biting?  Noooooo.  Her blood is so scrummy.  Mmmmm.  Visit her at BubonicPlagueLegs.com.

The joys of Rio Claro include canopying.  Here is a picture of Amy in her crazy trousers, stuck half way down a zip line.  No-one else got stuck.  What did she do wrong?  If anything is going to crack Hannah up it is watching this loser flail above a canyon.

Caving.  Oh.  My.  Days.  Having visited the mines in Potosi, we have got the bug for dark enclosed life-threatening places.  WE LOVED IT.  You know the really good water slide at Butlins?  Well, put it inside a mountain, add some psychotic prehistoric soundy birdy creatures, a massive crab, switch off the lights and slide into the depths of your cavernous mind.  Up to our heads, wading through water in a cave rocked our tiny worlds.  Sadly, no camera could withstand such a dunking so we are photoless, but take our words for it.  It rocked.  Literally.  Pier also ended up with a massive burly man sliding between his legs at one point which was a beautiful thing.

Then jump of an 8 metre high platform into the river (not Amy.  She wishes she was that hard, but she is not.  Sometimes you have to accept defeat.  Lesson 24)

And LOADS of animals.  Bonus!  We saw…

Possum type character.

Snakey snake face.

Ms. T. Rula.

Tou Can (play at that game)

Howl the monkey, the howler monkey

Pincer McPinch.

From Rio Claro to Medellin, the de facto capital of Colombia.  Had a whirlwind tour of the city, checking out the dynamic local art and architecture.  Here is a fat dog by Boterro.

Cable car ride up to the top of the world, where we met some brilliant local kids.  Amy introduced Pierluigi as her girlfriend in Spanish.  It was all very funny.  Genrally eating, drinking, having fun and enjoying THE FINAL DAY.

We are about to go out for dinner with our lovely hosts, drink rum, dance and celebrate what has been the most amazing trip.  Hannah goes home tomorrow, and Amy is staying on for a chilled style holiday so the blog stops here, folks. 

Thanks for reading about our adventures.  Did we mention that we have had the trip of a lifetime?  Here`s to all the lovely people we have met who may never read this, but have rocked our tiny world. 

What now?  Fancy meeting on this ere page, this time next year?  We hope so.

Love from A & H xxx

Potosi and Pock-Marks

First things first… Congratulations to Jon and Louise on the birth of their beautiful daughter and Amy´s niece, Matilda Mae, born yesterday at 4pm.  HUZZAH!  We went to the poshest restaurant in Sucre and toasted the new arrival.  Several times.

So, where were we?  From Uyuni and the salt flats we travelled to Potosi… THE HIGHEST CITY IN THE WORLD!  Sounds cool, but we could barely breathe.  Potosi used to be rich and well famous for producing coins and for silver and that.  We went to “Casa de la Mondea”, our first museum visit of the entire expedition (culture? Pah! Plenty of that in London).  We were herded into a Spanish tour, of which of course we understood very little, so we decided to giggle at the back like naughty children, taking illegal photographs.  The last straw was one hour in, when we were introduced to some mummified 19th century rotting children.  In glass cases.  In dresses.  Imagine our distress.  Then imagine our joy when we saw a chink of light and an open door… RUN!  And we did, like Steve McQueen.

This face haunts Potosi. What is it about?

Potosi is an imfamous mining town, and tour companies operate trips down into the depths of Cerro Rico, the mining mountain.  Should we go down?  Gulp.  We don´t like dirt, we don´t like dark, we don´t like enclosed spaces, we are not sure about dynamite, and dying from a cave-in is not our favourite.  We are particularly unsure of tour guides.  FACE THE FEAR. 

We booked our tour for Valentines day, how romantic!  Nothing like poverty and appauling working conditions to get you in the mood.  Mmmmm, sexy.  Went with a company who support eco tourism, “Greengo Tours”.  Spent an hour with the tour company owner, an amazing man named Julio who has been fighting to protect the mountain from irresponsible tour companies and Grouchos who throw dynamite willy nilly around the mountain, resulting in gradual erosion.  It is now illegal, owing to Julio´s valliant efforts, but the law is being ignored. Here´s the culprit, actual dynamite. On general sale, whatevs.

 Julio has asked us to write to UK Guidebooks to help educate Grouchos about the dangers of such ridiculous “fun” explosions.   We have all the documents and we are now officially eco-warriors! 

So… the tour. You know when you´re in the middle of a mountain, right? And it´s boiling hot and pitch black and bits of rock are falling from the sagging rafters, and you have to pull yourself up a vertical hole using a thread-bare rope (no safety belt here) and you are sort of having a panic attack and definately have an anxiety rash, and you encounter a troop of friendly neighbourhood miners who casually inform you of some impending explosions in the vicinity whilst drinking 96% proof alcohol and smoking tabs? Happy Valentine´s Day!

Here is their God.

He´s the Devil, right? Sure, cool, roll with it, go with the flow, man. Yeah, I know he´s, like, terrifying and that, but we´re well open-minded (mine-did) innit. Especially when we´re trapped in a rabbit warren and can´t stand upright.

“Carry on Caving”?

Fear aside, it was an enlightening (not literally) experience. Sitting drinking and laughing with the miners was proper amazing and all the more authentic as we were the only four tourists in the mine. The other two Grouchos were Gina and Matt, our new best friends who we met at the salt flats. Matt is a cage-fighter and ex –marine, which helped us pap ourselves a tiny bit less.

After visiting Bolivia´s pretend capital city (La Paz) a while ago, we now find ourselves in Bolivia´s ACTUAL capital city, Sucre. It´s clean, pretty and a teensy bit European-looking. If there is, in fact, money in this country, this is where it lives. Very, very different to Potosi.

Had a Valentine´s, post-mine Coca Sour cocktail on Monday evening and we pulled! The barman gave us these which made us stupidly, girlily happy. See…

Had our celebratory Matilda meal yesterday, wetting the baby´s head with a bottle of Bolivian vino. Then a glass of Bolivian vino, then a bottle of Bolivian vino. Welcome back Hangover, we´ve missed you ol´ friend.

Took said hangovers to see some dinosaur footprints this morning, some might call them pock marks in a quarry, but we know better.

Besides, this fella was there which proves they were real, doesn´t it.

Off to Colombia soon. Can´t wait.

Love

A & H xxx

Dreamcoat

More of that in a moment...

Arrived in La Paz late at night, ignoring the warnings that we would definitely die if we travelled after dark.  Found ourselves ejected from the bus in... wait a minute, this is not the bus terminal.  This is a crack-infested, dog-ganged back alley.  Fabulous!  Swiftly found ourselves the burliest looking cockney skinhead on the bus...
"Can we get a taxi with youuuuu?" and made our way to our hostel, safe and sound.  No acts of scaryness here. Phew x 10.

Spent the next few days checking out the sites from on high.  Here we are, high.

La Paz is a bustling city, full of market stalls selling all types of wares.  We got some delicious llama wool jumpers which are our pride and joy.  Amy has not yet removed hers from it´s wrapper, and plans to frame it anon. Amy warns Hannah that if she keeps wearing hers on a day to day basis, she will surely snag/stretch/spill beans on it.  Thus far, Hannah has failed to heed this warning.  Living dangerously (her middle name -Hannah Living Dangerously Purdy).

Had lunch and a cocktail at altitude and were drunk immediately.  Excellently cheap.  Then went wandering round the Witches market (da da daaaaaaaaa!). 
Riddle me this... What will bring you good fortune from your favourite Inca God (Pacha Mama innit)?  What item will make you prosperous beyond your wildest dreams?  What also doubles as a dog chew?  You got it...
A llama foetus!  These scraggy little beauties hang from the stalls in their droves, coming in all different shapes and sizes.  Some with hair, some barely with skin.  We got you one each as a present.  You can thank us later.

Did more shopping, chatting, drinking, deciding what muppets we would be and eating.  We then booked our tour to the salt flats.  But first, The Bus Journey.  10 hours overnight... long, but do-able, si? 
Picture the scene... there is a storm a-brewing which is starting to flood the city streets, there is thunder, there is lightning.  Surely the bus will be cancelled.  Surely.  Not so.  All Grouchos are herded onto the tourist bus and given chicken and rice.  We declined.   "Estoy Satisfecha, Gracias".

10 hours = 16 hours, 3 breakdowns, LONG delays, best chocolate we have ever had in our lives, bus stuck in flowing torrent, Groucho-brigade recovery service (see below), cracked windscreen, desperately need toilet (toilet vile), cheery driver (surprisingly) and postponed tour.  Character building?

Started tour to the salt flats and nature reserve first thing the next morning.   Let us introduce our group... Max (his real name?) the very safe and lovely driver.  The chef  (we just called her Chef) who loved us loving the vista.  Our new best friends, Matt and Gina, French sibling duo, and us (Bert and Ernie).

First stop... The Train Graveyard (da da daaaaa!). 

Abandoned trains in a desolate landscape, and us climbing all over their rusty carcases like A.D.H.D. apes.  No "Do not touch the trains" signs for us.  No health and safety mumbo jumbo.  Get in there!

And then... The Salt flats...

Oh my DAYS.  Almost impossible to describe.  But we must try.  Without doubt the most phenomenal natural sight we have seen in our lives.  It was like walking on water, like being in an artist’s impression of heaven, like an enormous mirror, like an opportunity to take ridiculous photographs.

Pacha Mama made up for her poor effort weather-wise at Machu Picchu by delivering a stonker.  The perfect conditions for seeing the flats, with a tiny layer of water laying on the 10 metre deep compressed salt.
Shoes off, running, jumping, flag flying.  Wished we could stay there longer but other miraculous acts of nature beckoned.

Rocks.  Massive rocks.  Weird shaped rocks.  They are big, we are small… see…

All at the base of an active volcano, spewed out a gazillion years ago (approximately).

Dragon Rock.  Like Fraggle Rock, only scarier (and no Doozers, sadly).

But how quickly the vista changes, me hearties!  Multi-coloured lakes, multi-coloured mountains, multi-coloured flooring (sand?  Snow!?) and same coloured flamingos (pink) in their thousands!

The lakes were mineralised, accounting for their techni-coloured dreamcoat impersonation.  They were red and orange and green and white and purple and violet and cream and yellow and BLUE.

Alright Geezer!!

Freeeeeezing cold, pre-sunrise at 5.30am.  These bad boys get a-brewing early.  Bubbling, hissing and spitting.  BRILLIANT sulphur based fun (our favourite type of gas enjoyment).  Watched the sun rise from a hot spring, astride a lake.  Jammy jam sandwich-heads.

Needless to say, this trip was truly supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.  Top gun fun and we loved every minute. 

Here is a mini llama for your perusal…

Love from A & H

xxx

p.s. Happy Valentines Day (especially to the boyfs)!

p.p.s. This took us 3 Bolivian hours.  We hope you enjoyed it. 

BoLOVEia

Word.

So we scaled the overland border crossing with relative smoothness and jollity and made it into Bolivia. Travelling around the edge of Lake Titicaca, which is bloody massive, man, we arrived at the always fashionable Copacabana.

 N.B. Not ordinarily being big spelling Nazis, it´s curious that we should yearn for the regularity found in English nouns. For example, there seems to be no true way to spell Titicaca. See below;

Titicaca

Titikaka

Titicaka

Titikaca

It´s a bamboozler.

Oh lovely Copacabana! We arrived to the sounds of music playing and the sights of women laying petal mosaics on the roads in preparation for more fiesta fun.

We decided to treat ourselves with the hostel and went a bit upmarket, with HOT WATER!!!!! Oh joy of joys, cahloo calay! Here is the view from our hostel…

Nut-sweet eh? (Macadamia? Cashew?)

Our hostel also had a kitchen which meant…vegetables! There is only so much corn-based carby food-stuffs you can take. We have missed cooking. Spelling and cooking.

We hosted a party for all the local grouchos. It was fabulous, daaaarling. Ate good food, drank local Boliv wine and sang folk-songs to Chad´s adept guitar playing. We also learnt to play the pipes. Learnt, in it´s loosest sense.

General fiesta fun ensued. Check out these massive bells, indicating the level of exaggerated boot-based celebration.

Big horns.

“Oh my God! A running of the bulls? Cool man!” This is what we said when we heard about the running of the bulls. But wait a minute. Who are these guys?

Erm…

No we will not be paying, thank you very much. Amy was shocked at her level of wishing harm to another human being in the five minute of the fight we observed from atop a pile of dirt. “Go bull! Take him down!” Then some bloke jumped in the ring dressed as a woman. It was all pretty weird.  Goodbye…

Here are some of our new groucho friends.

Bearded, long hair, as any good groucho should be. Chadmeister, Pete and Count Daniel.

We don´t have much more to report as we were mainly sleeping in a hammock strung garden or inebriated.

Although… we did find some sexiness, of sorts. A night of live music and dancing. Hurrah!! Here´s an equation for ya..

(High altitude + pisco sours + (bongos x 3) x “Tengo novio”)/ (A Bolivian version of the train-ghost from the hit-movie Ghost (remember him, scary face) + drug dealer + self-styled Latin-American PHD student)

= Salsa based fun with new groucho bessie, Sarah.

The next day, a little headachey, we went on a poorly organized tour to the Isla del Sol. Leaky boat, Madam? Eeek! Again, almost immediately, escaping the rest of the tourists, we´re mad us. Went a-wandering looking at the beautiful vista, and attempting to find the Inca ruins (Why are there no signposts!!!?)

Gave up and sat on a rock, see image.

Here is a llama for your delectation.

And that´s all we have to say about that.

Love you, bye.

A & H xx