Welcome To The Jungle

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.

Birthday Presents

This year I turned 24. It’s my second birthday since I’ve been travelling and this time I spent the day in a mine. I’m sure that’s not everyone's idea of a birthday treat but it was good fun. That’s actually a lie, from the minute I entered the place to the minute I left I was shitting myself. We had to crawl through holes barely big enough to fit in and avoid tumbling down cavities 50m deep. It was an experience none-the-less and I managed to stay alive so can’t grumble. I also got the chance to dress up in a village people costume for the second time in a week so that was worth the money alone.

With it being my birthday and all, Tom decided he would splash out and go for a present with a bit of a bang. This year for my birthday I got:

• 1 x Two minute fuse and detonator
• 1 x Bag of ammonium nitrate
• 1 x Stick of TNT
• 1 x The chance to play with dynamite

Good luck topping that for my 25th.

Salt Of The Earth

The more observant/nosey amongst you may have already noticed the pictures of my trip to the Salar De Uyuni. Every day I travel, the world continues to amaze me. Tom, our new friends and I spent 4 days in a jeep travelling through the worlds largest salt flats. The Salar De Uyuni was created some 40000 years ago when the Andes rose from the sea and created a plateau 3,656m above sea level. The sea water was then trapped in a large prehistoric lake that has slowly evaporated over thousands of years leaving behind 10000 square meters of flat, seemingly endless, salt desert. Not something you come across every day.

We spent the first morning of the tour travelling up the mountains, taking in some spectacular views and slowly developing altitude sickness. Our driver was a wonderfully friendly and knowledgeable man who couldn’t speak a word of English. He suggested to us that we should chew on Coca leaves as it helps alleviate the symptoms, at least that's what I think he was saying. I can’t say I was overly impressed by the medicinal qualities of coca leaves. If anything it made matters worse as the sensation was similar to chomping on a bag of PG tips. Luckily I managed to pull through and by the afternoon I was quite well acclimatised. We sat down in a Lama field for dinner then pushed on through to a small native village for sunset and fell asleep.

The second and third days were spent driving through yet more fantastic scenery and attempting to take photos of flamingos. Our guide was once again telling us all the important details about the local geography and the local people. Again this is a guess, he could have been talking about gardening for all I know.

On the last day we woke up early to see the sunrise across the salt flats and slept in a hotel made entirely from salt. Even the beds were constructed of the stuff. I don’t know what came over me, but I just had an uncontrollable urge to keep licking the walls. It was like the savoury version of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate factory.

Cowboys

Tom and I were unsure how to spend our first day in Bolivia so we were very much open to suggestion. We made some new friends on the train and they managed to convince us to go horse riding.

Tom and I confessed to our lack of equine knowledge so the stable boy dragged out two old donkeys and proceeded to clumsily aid us in mounting the saddle. To make the experience a little more authentic we were then provided with cowboy hats and off we went into the desert. We started off walking then tentatively trotting then before long we were galloping around like real cowboys. For donkeys they were fairly spritely and shifted when you asked them to. The horse riding has opened up several new job opportunities for me, I’m now considering a career on a ranch or alternately a fancy dress model.

Being Childish

We have now arrived in Mendoza, the wine capital of Argentina, so naturally we decided to do a spot of wine tasting. Wine is in no way my specialist subject. Saying that, I’m not a complete novice. I can correctly identify between a red and a white 95% of the time (35% if blindfolded). But luckily for me, Tom and Kitty were also amateurs in the world of wine tasting so we decided it was about time we got educated and booked ourselves onto a tour.

We liked the idea of a hotel pickup so we selected our tour and after a fairly arduous wait our transport eventually arrived. The reason for the delay soon became apparent - Half the coach party recently received hip replacements and the other half were severely suffering from arthritis. This caused the boarding process at each pick up to take considerably longer than expected. I was the youngest person on board by at least 50 years and one of the only people still in possession of my own teeth. We somehow managed to book ourselves onto the silver hair tour, but then I suppose wine tasting isn’t exactly the most ‘hip’ or ‘happenin’ activity. I checked the seat, to ensure there hadn't been an accident involving a weak bladder on a previous outing, sat down, and off we went to the vineyard.

We visited several wineries, I had my cheek nipped several times and it eventually turned out to be quite a nice outing. An American couple took a fondness to Tom due to his spitting resemblance to a member of the royal family and Kitty hit it off with an obese man who probably wasn’t allowed in such close proximity of young females under normal circumstances. But the highlight was when we arrived at the Bodegas Lopez winery and we had a tasting and etiquette lesson from an amazingly beautiful Argentinian Lady.

Tom had confessed prior to the tour that he didn’t mind a white but reds severely disagreed with his pallet. Now here's a few facts for you -

• According to the experts, a good red wine compliments red meat perfectly.
• Argentina is one of the worlds largest producers of Beef.
• Beef is a red meat.
• Argentinians love steak and eat it frequently.
• Mendoza produces 95% red wine and 5% white wine due to supply and demand.
• Tom had wasted his money.

The Bodegas Lopez winery produced hundreds of litres of red wine each year and our lovely guide was very informative about the whole production process. The remarkable thing was that Tom, a man who previously confessed his dislike for red wine, now took a real keen interest in every aspect of it all of a sudden.

Tom spent the entire tour asking ridiculous questions just so he could talk to her. “How much did this big barrel cost?”, “Where do grapes come from?”, “What’s the biggest grape you’ve ever seen?”, “How much did this small barrel cost?”. Tom had it in his head that this poor girl was in to him and in my opinion he was getting a little big for his boots. Being the youngest on the bus I decided that resorting to immaturity was perfectly acceptable so I grabbed some stickers from the wine bottles and placed them on Toms back. I’ll let the photos explain the rest:

“So babe, what does wine come in?”

“Normally in bottles Mr Vincent, like the ones on the shelf behind you.”

“Thanks, what an amazing fact. I’ll just head over there and have a look. Check you later”

‘She keeps grinning, I’m definitely in here. If I read this whole book then I’ll know as much about wine as she does. We have so much in common’

“Look at that silly English man over there, he has a little sticker on his back and looks like prince Harry. I can’t stop smirking”

‘She’s smiling so much she looks like she's swallowed a coat hanger. Who Da Man’

It took poor Tom several hours before he realised he had been labelled as a 2004 Malbec. Roughly the same amount of time taken to hoist every other passenger on board via the stair lift and for us to arrive back at the hostel slightly merry.

Into The Wild

After our brief visit to the very south of the continent, we are now making our way slowly back up towards Bolivia via various parts of Argentina and Chile. Despite the recent earthquake in Chile they seem to have got themselves back on track and I’m really glad we took the gamble of crossing the border. It wasn’t a huge gamble as we were quite some distance from the epicentre but we had heard rumours it was still a little touch and go in places. Our destination was the Torres Del Paine National Park and we decided that a 3 day camping trek should give us just enough time to explore. Despite being fairly well equipped for the outdoor lifestyle we still needed to hire a few bits and pieces from the camping store. Being on a budget, we opted for the somewhat snug 3 man tent, your basic one hob gas stove and the ‘Congratulations you're my 100,000th customer’ kitchen set. Sadly we didn’t get any prize for the special hire of the kitchen set other than the relatively high chance of contracting leprosy. Fully prepared for anything nature could throw at us, we set off up the mountains with a happy mind and a spring in our step.

The first day we hiked several kilometres along a glacier calved path and eventually decided to set up camp on some flat ground next to a fresh water stream. We then cooked up some oriental cuisine and sat playing cards until the sunset over the peaks, casting a shadow over the valley. Once dark we then gathered in the tent and eagerly awaited the next morning.

If that last paragraph were to appear in a holiday brochure, I’d without doubt be castrated by trading standards. What actually happened was we climbed near vertical mountain faces, that required a fist full of climbing chalk in some places, until our feet were effectively two large blisters in boots. Exhausted we collapsed on the closest thing we could find to a campsite. This just so happened to be adjacent to white water rapids so loud we had to either shout or use sign language to communicate. In a feeble attempt to make the situation more pleasurable, we heated some water and had a pot noodle. The sun then fell dramatically behind the mountain and in a similar vein, so did the temperature. Almost instantly the valley became a giant refrigerator and we were forced to play cards by Zippo light to keep a) Our fingers warm & b) Our minds from thinking about the onset of pneumonia and our, now inevitable, slow and painful death. The noise of the rapids was slowly being drowned out by something that I’m fairly confident was a man eating eagle. With a matter of seconds to spare before we were visited by the winged beast, we crowded into the tent and endeavoured to fit into a single sleeping bag to conserve body heat. Too concerned with cold and man eating eagles, we lay there wishing for sun to rise and bring with it safety, warmth and a new day.

In hindsight I may have been slightly exaggerating.

As we were going to be quite some distance from civilisation for the entire trip, we had to take all our supplies with us. This meant we had to take all 3 days worth of food with us and ration it over the journey. I’ll let it be known - rationing is not a technique I’m fond of. For that matter rationing is not a technique I’m capable of. I fully understand the concept of dividing the supplies so they last the duration. It’s just that I enjoy eating food far more than I do lugging it around in a very, very heavy rucksack. But with Tom and Kitty in charge of meals I had to conform to set meal times. This wonderfully backfired on our second night when our tent was raided by a well organised mischief of rats. They managed to chew their way through Tom’s backpack and eat a portion of almost everything we had. We were Lucky it was only a portion of each item, as it meant we could carefully pick our way round each cream cracker and just about salvage a snack.

In all it was a great trip and I really enjoyed it. The scenery was great and I managed to get some nice pictures. I couldn’t get any of the human eating eagle though. Must be nocturnal.