I’m not sure if it’s a common complaint amongst people turning 24, but my subconscious has decided that life should be lived a little more on the edge. It kicked things off with the for mentioned mine tour. An experience I found so torturous that by the end I was happy to walk towards any light at the end of a tunnel. Luckily for me, the light I selected was the exit of the dingy place but this didn’t mean I was entirely safe. Next on the agenda was an activity our guide took so lightly, it was as if he’d slotted it between finger painting and playing in the sandpit. ‘Dynamite time’ gave me the opportunity to make a real life bomb. A bomb explosive enough to make large cavities in solid rock, and I’m guessing even bigger cavities in me. With danger averted for a second time, we made a brief visit to La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, and took part in a hair raising ride down the worlds most 
dangerous road on a push bike. For those of you who are unfamiliar with ‘death road’, it’s called this due to the fact it takes the lives of over 200 human beings each year, yet the Bolivian government generate so much money from this attraction they've deemed it unnecessary to close. Upon reaching the bottom with no harm done, except a touch of chafeage, I was happy to discover from a rather informative leaflet that the authorities had invested heavily in long distance radios meaning they can now alert each other whenever an accident occurred. What was more concerning was the fact that it stated that an ambulance, road signs, rescue equipment and climbing ropes were still on the pending list.
It was time for something even more death defying and what better place to start than the Amazon. Home to some of the most deadly, poisonous and quite frankly scary species of animal on the planet. Fully camouflaged in thick undergrowth and murky water meaning you don’t even know they're there until you've stepped on them. Literally.
Tom, our new American friend Will and I decided to head to the Amazon basin for a 3 day Rudyard Kipling style adventure. It started the second we arrived in Rurrenabaque and pulled out of the car park in our jeep. All of a sudden we skidded to a stop, the driver jumped out and crouched down in front of the vehicle, then opened the back door holding a sloth. 
Out of all the weird creatures on this planet, the sloth takes some beating. They look like baby Chewbacca’s with big claws. The driver then insisted we had to hold on to the sloth until we reached a nature reserve a little further up the road where it would be far safer, away from the risks of poachers. For those few of you unfamiliar with the procedures of taking care of a wild sloth in the back of a jeep, here’s the basics. 1) Try and pin the arms & legs down as they tend to aim their big claws at your eyes. 2) Don’t hold too tightly as they are covered in ticks, flies and other various parasites which would love the opportunity to leave you paralysed. 3) Don’t give in to the sloths squealing no matter how unnerving it may be. The second you do they go for the eyes. Please refer to point 1.
The ‘little’ journey to the nature reserve lasted 2 hours by which point the sanctioning of a wild sloth was becoming very tedious. It’s a good job sloths are so incredibly slow or I’d have been typing this on a Braille keyboard. We eventually left it in a big tree 500,000 sloth years away from where it came from and I must say Barry, this was his pet name, looked extremely happy in his new home.
Once the jeep journey was over we boarded a long boat and headed up the river. It was a 3 hour journey 
and I can honestly say we didn’t go 5 minutes without seeing some type of wildlife on the banks. The variety was amazing, birds, monkeys, crocodiles, alligators, snakes, turtles, pigs, all of which in various colours, shapes and sizes. When the boat sadly arrived at our final destination we disembarked and headed into what would be our lodgings for the next 3 days. Mosquito Camp #3 as it was appropriately coined, was a roughly pieced together shack made entirely from wood & straw. It had net windows, no electricity, cold showers and a real sense of jungle.
The next morning we started the day with a spot of anaconda hunting. We were reliably informed by our guide, the Amazonian version of Mick Dundee, that these anacondas were of very little threat to a fully grown human. They only grew up to 2 to 3 meters and it would take at least a 12 footer to bring down a man. Somewhat apprehensively we set of into the long grass with wellington boots on our feet and repellent on our skin. After an hour we hadn’t managed to see a single snake, let alone a 3 meter long anaconda. But then Will suddenly stood on something big causing the water and grass to shake violently. We called Mick over and he started prodding round with his stick. With one big poke Mick caused another trembling splash and to our amazement a 2 meter crocodile revealed himself. At this stage everyone was a little worried, even Mick. He told us to stand still, then back away slowly as 6 feet of croc is plenty to disembowel a man. Once at a safe distance Mick started laughing and told Will how lucky he was. Will didn’t find it that amusing.
After lunch, piranha fishing was on the agenda. Sat in a small boat with a short length of fishing wire, surrounded by flesh eating fish and alligators is actually more therapeutic than it may sound. We sat for the best part of 3 hours reeling in the angry little fellers and I could have done more if it hadn’t started to rain in the way only rainforests can. After tea the weather had settled so it was back out on the boat again for twilight alligator spotting. We were taught that when you point a torch into an alligators eyes, much in the same way as a cats eye does, it shines back. However alligator eyes glow in a bright laser like red. Flowing down the river in pitch black we could see just as much wildlife as we could during the day, the red eyes of the alligators, hundreds of firefly's, bats, turtles and toads.
On our final morning in the Amazon, after seeing all of the rivers dangers, we were told that swimming in the water was perfectly safe. Perfectly safe as long as you were in the company of pink dolphins. In my opinion pink dolphins don’t exactly sound like the most terrifying of bodyguards. However, in the rivers of the Amazon, the pink dolphin truly is king. As soon as they came up to the boat you could see the crocs and alligators heading for the banks. Mick told us how the Dolphins are too intelligent for all the other animals and they love to play with humans and protect them. Not one for Idle words, Mick jumped in and we followed. The dolphins were bigger than I had expected and true to Mick’s word swam with us up the river warding off any dangers.
So after 3 days of being bezzers with a Spanish speaking, cross between Rambo and Rolf Harris, I’d managed to keep all my limbs and I still hadn’t required the services of an undertaker. There was just one more challenge ahead of me. We had to fly back to La Paz from Rurrenabaque airport, an airport with a dirt track runway and a host of aircraft created using the original blueprints of the Wright brothers and constructed from Meccano.
The takeoff was similar to rolling down a cobbled hill in a pram and once we were in the air things didn’t improve a great deal. The toy plane picked up every little bit of turbulence the atmosphere could throw at it. Alton Towers has nothing on the flight from Rurrenabaque to La Paz except a maybe toilet, something the toy plane failed to provide. But what it lacked in lavatories it made up for in sick bags and they were being put to good use by all 8 passengers.
So after a weeks solid stupidity, I’m now in Lake Titicaca relaxing in sun, avoiding any activity that could so much as break a nail and I can’t help wondering how Barry is getting on in his new life.
