The roads that test us

Our final taste of Peru was unfortunately sour; with a tour of Lake Titicaca opening our eyes to how much tourism has exploited the lives of the local people.  And so, relieved that it was over, we arrived, enthusiastic, in Bolivia, only to find ourselves faced with the first of what turned out to be a long troublesome string of unfortunate events.  Copacabana - on the shores of Lake Titicaca and by no means a small town - has no ATM, a fact we only became privy to post border crossing and changing the few remaining Peruvian soles we had left, even in cheap as chips Bolivia, wasn’t going to get us very far.  So our plan to visit the Isla del Sol had was abandoned for lack of funds, and we hoped on a bus to La Paz.  Still eager to discover this mysterious country, we remained in high spirits until day two in the bustling capital when I collapsed in the street with a pretty nasty case of altitude sickness.  And so commenced a couple of flu-like days and Phil, wonderful husband that he is, kept me company in my misery.  We indulged in a great deal of cable TV and only ventured out for the necessary task of eating, through which we encountered disaster number three – food poisoning.   As we all know what that entails I will spare you the unfortunate details.  So we were grounded in La Paz for a few more days, during which time we discovered that our next desired destination was no longer accessible due to a roadblock.  It really felt like Bolivia was against us, and more than any other time in our nine months travelling, all I wanted more than anything was get on a plane and fly home; to comfort, familiarity and friendly faces.

Eventually we made it south to the city of Sucre, and suddenly things started to look up.  Beautifully colonial and deliciously warm, we spent six wonderful days basking in sunshine and eating in fancy restaurants (a definite must after recovering from the effects of a dodgy kebab and fortunately exceptionally cheap in Bolivia).  Sad to leave what had quickly become a makeshift home, we headed to Potosi for a gruelling and eye-opening tour of the mines, and finally to Uyuni and the salt flats.  Easily the highlight of our time in Bolivia, the Salar de Uyuni and its surrounding countryside felt like something from another world, and in the three days we spent amongst its unusual beauty, it was easy to forget all the stresses and strains that Bolivia had burdened us with.  It was a blessing and a truly amazing end to what has been the most difficult country we have encountered on our journey.  Now we are saying goodbye and I am relieved, but glad that Bolivia didn’t succeed in breaking me, despite how hard it seemed to try.