The world´s most dangerous road

The mountain bike ride ride from La Cumbre (4,700) to Coroico (1,750) - a drop of 3,000m - down 'the world's most dangerous road' (about 35 vehicles go over the edge every year, apparently) was some of the most fun I've ever had - 65km's of sheer adrenaline.

While not the most demanding riding I've done, the 400m+ drop-offs kept us on edge.
Amazing scenery too as we went from the high altiplano down to the hot and humid foothills of the Yungas.


Here we go... We started at 4,700m and it was freezing - I was wearing all the warm clothes I have.


Screaming towards the bottom. The previous night there had been a massive landslide that had completely blocked the road (we had to carry our bikes across the rubble). On the plus side, this meant there was no traffic to dodge or stop for on the (very narrow) road, meaning we could scream down as fast as we could without worrying about coming face-to-face with a truck on a blind corner.

Bienvinidos a Bolivia

Uyuni was my first experience of Bolivia and for the first time I felt something approaching culture shock. Travelling in Chile and Argentina I felt like I was in a western country, but not in Bolivia. This really feels like somewhere different.

In Uyuni the streets were filthy and barely paved (as municipal services had ceased to exist) . And for the first time the people looked different too - most of Bolivia's population is indigenous.

The bus ride from Uyuni to Potosi was on an unpaved road in a crappy, over-ful bus - no more luxury sleeper buses ala Chile and Argentina.

Potosi is the highest city in the world (4,070m), and home to Cerro Ricca, a cooperative mine dug into the huge hill overlooking the city. For 2 or 3 hours we crawled through the mine's dusty narrow tunnels suffocating on the fumes and the dust. Miners still eke out a living (of sorts) scratching around for lead, tin and zinc. The conditions were worse than I had imagined - it was hot, difficult to breathe and the smell stayed on my clothes and skin for days after the visit. For the miners it's a matter of lif and death. A frighteningly high proportion die of silicocis and/or other respiratory diseases within 10 years of entering the mine.

From Potosi I headed to Sucre, formely Bolivia's capital, and home to a fantastic collection of Spanish colonial architecture around the main plaza. Sucre was an excellent place to hang out for a few days and take some Spanish lessons (for a staggering US$5/hour!!).

I arrived in La Paz this morning after a hellish 13 hr ride from Sucre. En-route I was nearly robbed in Potosi. When the bus stopped I headed for the toilet. A bloke pointed the way so I followed. It was dark and we went behind the back of a building. He then pointed to a gate and said the toilet was through there. The fact that he wasn't leading the way anymore made me slightly suspicious. As did the realsiation that I was suddenly alone in a very dark alley. Predictably, it was the start of a scam.

Another guy came round the corner wearing a (false) police badge (but no uniform). He asked to see our passports and cash (to supposedly check we weren't carrying counterfeit currency). My companion (his accomplice) all to readily complied. I told the 'policeman' that all my stuff was on the bus, and twigged what was happening once he started lifting my shirt to see if I was wearing a money belt. Freaking out, I hit him as hard as I could, which cleared an exit, and made a run for it. Back by the bus I never saw the 'policeman' again. I was lucky to: 1) know about this scam and, 2) to get away. A French guy I met in Sucre lost 500 Bolivianos to the same scam in Potosi (he had told me the story the day before).

Now La Paz, which is as crazy as you'd expect. First impressions of the city remind me of Kathmandu - loads of people in a very big, very poor city surrounded by mountains. The more time I spend in large cities the more I realise how much they do my head in. I won' be staying here long.

They push harder when you put them in a well

Q: What do you get when you put a New Zealander, an Irishman and an Australian/Canadian in a 4WD for three days?
A: Jokes about sheep (and llamas).

The trip from San Pedro de Atacama, Chile, to Uyuni across the Bolivian altiplano and the Salaar de Uyuni has undoubtedly been the highlight of my trip so far (despite being stuck inside a 4WD with 6 other people for three days).The operators that run this infamous trip have a very poor reputation, so even making a booking was problematic. The guidebook was full of warnings about the shysters who run these trips: over-sold tours, terrible food, dodgy vehicles and drunk drivers falling asleep at the wheel. The complaints book at the Tourist Office in San Pedro confirmed all of the above.

This was complicated by the fact that only one operator was actually running a tour across the Salaar (salt plain), the obvious highlight of the tour. All the others claimed there was too much water on the salaar. Anyways, I made my booking with Expediciones Estrella del Sur (US$80, initially it was going to $90) and was off. (Anyone reading this who is planning to do this trip, I unreservedly recommend this company. They were fantastic.)

As you'd expect we set off later than planned - usual practice round here, and the tour was oversold (by one, which made no difference in the end). After a typically forensic inspection of our passports at the Chilean border we drove 45 minutes, climbing 800m to the Bolivian boarder, which is in the middle of nowhere at an altitude of 4,400m.

Looking through my photos of the first day I am still astounded by the landscape - the barren emptiness and the colours of the desert, mountains and lakes we saw. The lakes are vivid - Laguna verde a luminescent green, Laguna Colorado a rich, oxide brown. While the desert and mountain landscapes were out of this world - high on the altiplano I felt like we had left the earth behind and traveled to another planet. Despite the beauty, this is one of the harshest, most unforgiving places on earth. No one lives there, or could live there.

By mid-arvo on the first day we were chewing coca leaves like crazy, our cheeks bulging Bolivian style, as we approached 5000m. The highest I have ever been (I think?). I always thought I'd be standing on a mountain the first time I reached 5000m, not sitting in a vehicle!

By the time we arrived at the refugio where we spent the first night, the searing heat of the day had been replaced by rain and a cold wind. Later at Laguna Colorado a violent lightening storm forced us all to run for the 4WD. Even the flamingoes standing on the lake huddled in close to each other as the lightening hit the lake, turning blue and lighting up the whole valley.

Day 2, like day 1, began with a steep ascent and our guide/driver Simon stuffing handfuls of coca leaves into his mouth. In contrast with day one we were driving through a snow storm within minutes of setting off. By now the routine had become familiar, nothing was more than 30 minutes away: amazing desert, lakes with mountains in the background... 30 minute units became a convenient way to break up the journey.

Just before lunch we had our first flat tire. After lunch we had another three. We drove for more than 12 hours on the second day, an heroic effort by Simon who had to navigate some of most demanding terrain (there are no roads) and repair four flat tires bicycle-style, taking the tire of the room and actually repairing the tube. In the middle of the desert this is not as easy as it sounds.

The second night we stayed at the salt hotel, an amazing building where everything (beds, chairs, tables etc etc) is made of salt. Having seen my first ever llama during the day you can guess what we had for dinner that night. It tasted a bit like pork.

After a heavy night on the turps a 5am start to see the sunrise on the salaar was hard going. We were on the salaar by 5.30am as the sky changed from purple, through various shades of red and orange to blue as the sun began to rise. This is what we had all been waiting for. It's extremely difficult to convey just how gob-smackingly amazing a sight it was. The salaar is a vast (12,000 sq km) salt plain and is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Standing outside the vehicle the silence, beauty and sheer size of this stark, inhospitable environment was almost suffocating. Everything then turned a ghostly blue as we drove on.

It was a complete surprise to come to the Isla de la Pescadores a few hours later, following yet another flat tire. Here was an island in the middle of the salaar covered in cactuses, some over 1,000 years old.

From here it was another couple of hours across the salaar, past the salt mines, to Uyuni, which marked the end of an incredibly memorable trip.

(Unfortunately I haven't been able to include any pics with this post, due to some unexplained technical hitch.The links go to pic's I have posted on flickr.)

Valle de la Luna, San Pedro de Atacama

Near the entrance to Death Valley, a strange place for a memorial to Pope John Paul II.


Devils Canyon, some of the best mountain biking in Chile.


The grand dune at sunset, Valle de la Luna.

The great silence

Nobody in Chile talks about the dictatorship, it's as if people just want to forget the atrocities of the past and move on without ackowleding the scar the period has left. When I've tried to talk to young people they claim they are too young to remember, while older people just won't go there. Ex-pats I've met (some of whom have lived here for years) say the same thing; you just can't talk about Pinochet.

A few people have said that although Pinochet did some terrible things the country would be in ruins economically were it not for him. They point to the 'failures' of Allende's reforms: the lack of coordination in land reform (which became land grabs in some places) and the negative impact of nationalization, as justification.

Chile has had a 'Socialist' government for most of the last decade - although it has as much in common with socialism as Tony Blair's New Labour. The government has made no real attempt to launch any investigation into the period or hold a South African-style Truth and Reconcilation Commission. However, Pinochet is no longer a Senator for life - all such positions have been abolished - making it possible to prosecute him through the courts.

The military still appears to be very strong here. New President Michelle Bachelet's first act was to increase military spending. (To keep them on side?).

Although Chile loves it's 'big men of history' (almost all the streets are named after independence heroes (O'Higgins, San Martin), former presidents or military figures), I have yet to see a Calle Pinochet. However, to my total surprise the main street of some dusty little desert town I passed through on a 24 hour bus ride from Santiago to San Pedro was called Calle Salvador Allende.

Volcan Villarrica, Pucon

Volcan Villarrica (2,840m) reminded me of home.
Like Taranaki, Villarrica is only 25km's from town and dominates the skyline. And it just had to be climbed because, in the words of Sir Ed Hillary, 'it was there'.

Volcan Villarrica from Pucon.




It was less than 3 hours to the summit. Unfortunately it wasn't possible to see any lava as the smoke and choking fumes made it impossible to stand close to the crater edge for more than a few seconds. All the gear might look over the top but it came in handy on the trip down. We slid on our arses from 2,600m down to 1,800m. The fastest, most enjoyable descent I've ever done.

Ferry trip - Puerto Natales to Puerto Montt

I´ve just spent three days/four nights on Navimag´s Puerto Eden ferry travelling from Puerto Natales to Puerto Montt. An expensive trip by budget travel standards (US$355), but well worth it despite the dodgy weather. The scenery in the Patagonian channels was amazing. I met some great people on board and even managed to win the bingo competition on the last night(!). The liquidity of the winnings helped make for an enjoyable evening. The boat trip was supposed to be about stunning scenery. On the first day it was so cloudy it was difficult to see very much at all. Glacier Brujo, Bernado O´Higgins National Park. We detoured down a channel to see the glacier and the sun came out at last. The open sea was quite a bit rougher than in the fjords. Of the 130-odd passengers only about 25 of us made it to dinner on the second night. There was a distinct aroma of vomit around the boat too. Yes, they are whales. Look closely in the bottom left corner and on the right. Not the easiest thing in the world to photograph in high-velocity winds. The weather finally cleared on the last night and we saw a sunset. I have uploaded more images to flickr (when you get there, click to enlarge the images).

Torres del Paine

I'll let the pictures tell the story.


The Grey Glacier from Campamento Las Guardas. Its not often you get to have dinner with a view like this.



The front of Glacier Grey. Ice falls from the glacier and is pushed along the lake by the strong Patagonian winds.



Look - it's Sarah John's wooly hat on the bridge over the Rio del Frances at the entrance to Campamento Italiano.



Cerro Principal (2,600m) and Cerro Norte (2,400m) loom directly above Camp Italiano. The rock face on the mountain on the left is completely sheer.



The Torres del Paine at dawn.


The Torres del Paine trek was fantastic, probably the best hiking I’ve done anywhere. The walk for the most part was not too arduous, the weather generally good (except for a snow storm at the top of the Valle del Frances), and the scenery absolutely stunning.

Some of the highlights:
The Grey Glacier. The lookout at Campamento Las Guardas is diredctly in line with the face of the glacier. I sat on rocks overlooking the glacier and cooked my dinner and drunk the wine I had lugged for the previous four hours in an already heavy pack. I was entranced by the glacier's blue-white purity and sheer size. It was an amazing place to be on your own. Unlike the Perito Moreno glacier there weren’t thousands of tourists there to spoil the moment. It was just me.
Seeing my first ever avalanche (and then my second and third etc etc) and hearing scores more while camping at Camp Italiano.
Seeing condors (the largest bird of prey, wing-span 2 - 3m) – dozens of them – as we hiked on day 4. They would float high in the sky around the mountain tops then circle in lower in lower until they were just above us, as if they were waiting for us to expire.
The Torres!

My route
I hiked the 'W' independently, staying only at free camp sites (no facilities). It is possible to stay in fully equipped refugios or at campsites with running water etc, though the refugios are expensive (US$40/night + dinner).

Day 1
Bus from Puerto Natales to Lake Pehoe. Catamaran to Refugio Pehoe.
Trek from Ref Pehoe to Campamento Las Guardas (14km, 4 hours).

Day 2
Trek from Campamento Los Guardas to Ref Pehoe and then on to Campamento Italiano (22km, 6 hours).

Day 3
Day hike up the Valle del Frances: Campamento Italiano to a lookout above Campamento Britanico (11km, 3 ¾ hours).
The views at the top of the valley are supposed to be one of the highlights of the trek, unfortunately minutes after I arrived at the lookout the weather closed in and soon after it was snowing heavily. I waited as long as I could for the weather to clear but had to leave after 15 minutes or I would have frozen to death.

Day 4
Trek Campamento Italiano to Campamento Torres (22km approx, 7¾ hours). A long day.

Day 5
Trek from Camp Torres to Mirador Las Torres (40 min’s each way)
We were up at 6.15am to trek to the lookout to see the sunrise on the Torres – red light is supposedly cast on to the Torres at dawn. Unfortunately thick cloud made it impossible to even tell where the sun was rising, so we didn’t get to see the effect. Despite the cloud and the cold we sat on the rocks to cook breakfast and wait for the cloud to lift so we could see the Torres. Eventually the cloud did lift just enough for us to briefly see 2 ½ of the 3 towers.