BIKES AND WINES

It's best sometimes not imagine places in your head before you get to them, as it can often lead to disappointment. This was the case when I arrived in Mendoza. I had visioned a small town nestled between vin yards with quaint shops and cafes, some peasant farmers working their fields in the distance, and cows, yes lots of cows. Well maybe if I had actually done some proper reading on the place I might have actually realised that I was turning up to a city that is Argentina's fourth largest, with a population of just under a million! Maybe then the motorway that encircled the city, the tons of ugly modern concrete buildings, the mass of cars and big advertising billboards might not have come, as such a shock! My little ideal imagine of Mendoza was shattered into tiny pieces.

I was now traveling with Maria a French girl I had met in the cool hostel in Tilcara and joined up with in Salta. Maria is one of those truly nice people you meet in life. She is always happy and loves everyone and everything and it's impossible not to adore her. I did think she must be on something at first as I didn't see how it was possible to be so happy all the time, as it's beyond me, but no, she is just naturally like this. Even on the 18 hour bus journey where we were tired and uncomfortable she still managed to be upbeat and chatty in contrast to my grumpiness. Though as we arrived in Mendoza even Maria expressed her deep disappointment, though she did so, still with a smile.

Mendoza is know as the wine capital of Argentina, so me and Maria decided to go on a wine tasting tour, as it was a must in Mendoza, besides, we told ourselves it would be our lovely rural vision when we got out of the city and into the vin yards? WRONG! Our taxi dropped us off at our tour office, which was not a rural vision, but a building, with lots of other buildings by it, at the side of a busy road. Dam it! I want my rural vision!

We had opted on doing the wine tour on bikes as this means you can get around and have a drink. Now those of you who know me well, will probably thinking the idea of me, bikes and wine, aren't a great combination. There were a few instances in the past where these things combined, did have a few dramas, the worst being the time, when I hit a BMW and went over the bonnet. Yes it was parked at the time and stationary! Hello people, that's in the past. I have just survived biking the worlds most dangerous road, so I would say me and bikes are good now.
We set off on our journey of 24km round trip to our first winery. The roads were busy, the scenery ugly and the weather was crap (I'm selling it to you aren't I)? The other problem was the men! What is it with Argentinean men; have they never seen two women on bikes before? Well it seemed that way as we got beeped, perved at, shouted at in words in Spanish I could not understand (but I think they were dirty) and they did that sucking their gums thing again. Never thought I'd say this, but give me British builders any day. We arrived at our first winery cold, dusty and harassed. Thank God for wine, that's what I say, as everything seems good as long as you have wine. By the time we had finished our second winery and 8th different wine, Maria confessed that you felt quite drunk. This worried me, as it hadn't even touch the sides with me. Does this mean I have a drink problem? Oh no I forgot: I'm British!
After more wine, some chocolate and jam testing! We arrived back in one piece. Not the dream vision I had of Mendoza, but a good day all the same, which was made even better by coming back to our hostel to find it full of young hot Argentinean climbers. I didn't know where to look. I guess I did get a lovely vision of Mendoza in the end. Heaven. I've decided to take another detour into Chile again, because I loved it so much last time. Next stop Valparaiso.

HOLY

I can't say I'm a religious person. I only go to church for Christenings, weddings, funerals or Christmas eve when my mother decides she wants to feel really festive and drags all to sing carols at the local one; but even she, hasn't done that in a while. All that said I wouldn't say I'm an atheist. I like to believe that everyone I have ever loved and lost has gone to a better place and there is something after this life; it makes it easier to deal with their loss. What this place might be; I don't know?

I actually find religion quite fascinating (am I allowed to say that with out looking like a complete bible basher)? Especially the Catholic religion. I know it's a religion full of self flagellation, guilt, tortured looking statues and kiddy fiddling priests, but it appeals to my morbid side. Anyway I always wanted to be a Catholic as a child, as I liked the thought of going into a box and confessing all my sins to a priest (though these days I don't think there would be enough hell Marys to justify my wrong doings)?

With no cadburys chocolate Easter eggs to stuff my face with this year, I needed something else to get me in the Easter spirit. So me, Eva and Tanja, headed from Chile to the hills of northern Argentina to a little town call Tilcara, which is well know in South America for it's Easter celebrations. Now I have traveled a lot and in that time I have stayed in many hostels. Some good, some bad, but the hostel I have stayed in here, in Tilcara, I think has to be my favourite ever! Why? Well it's not like a hostel. It's more like staying at your friends house, and you have got all your mates there as well and all you do is chillax, chat and drink lots of good wine. The owners, two young guys from Buenos Aires are so laid back, if they were anymore so, they would be dead. Sounds like my heaven. Well actually it is, that's why I have stayed there nearly a week instead of the two days I thought, I was only going to do.

Now I have been traveling for 4 months and I haven't met many females traveling on their own. I thought I was the only one at times Well I've now realised the reason for this is because they all seem to be holed up in Casa Los Molles (thats the name of my hostel in Tilcara). Yes the place just seems to be full of lone women travellers! In fact Carly's tip of the day for guys is to get your ass there as you are out numbered 8 to 1, by women! The really good thing is I have made some really good friends here too. There is Lucy Robinson, who is also a fellow blogger, though in a much better league as she is a blogger an Marie Claires website, in fact I have a mention in her latest post (famous or what)! She is also a novelist and is out here writing her second novel, I find her very inspirational. Then there is Holly another Brit, who at 21 gives me back my faith in the young of England after it was smashed by the pea heads. Finally there is Anna from Germany who learnt English in Sunderland and now speaks with a Geordie, German accent which I think is great. Together we make a good group and don't think the small town of Tilcara know what's hit it with when Los rubia gringas walk around.

We took over the dorm and it would have been completely womanised if it hadn't been for the middle aged Spanish man that occupied one of the bunks. I was a bit disgusted by him at first as he snored a lot and didn't come home till the early hours of the morning. For a man of his age, me and Rosie automatically thought he must being going to some brothels or something. It turns out he's also a writer and writes to the early hours of the morning. It's funny that I still keep referring to the guy that could be Spains leading novelist, as the man that woke me from my sleep because he farted so loudly ( four bloody times: So WRONG)!

So let's get back to the reason why we were in Tilcara: Easter! We arrived in time for the Wednesday which we heard was the biggest parade of the weeks proceedings, with all the villagers marching down from the mountains; marching down with 3000 panpipes that is, as Rosie informed us. Now this wouldn't be a problem if Tanja hadn't told us the day before, that the worst sound in the world to her, was the sound of PANPIPES. You should of seen her face drop. At first I couldn't really see what Tanja's problem was, with pan pipes, but after sitting on a hill for three hours listening to hundreds going by, giving out the most awful unrhythmic sound ever, I agreed with her entirely.

The next night was the procession of the virgin and yes, that's right more bloody PANPIPES. Still, I decided to brave it, as I don't think it's a real Easter parade, with out a good virgin. I also got on everyones nerves a lot by singing like a Virgin by Madonna, which probably wasn't very appropriate at all.

The celebrations continued through out the rest of Easter, which basically meant panpipes 24/7. I did start to wonder how they all kept going and if any of them actually died due to loss of breath. In fact I did google to see if I could find out how many people died of Panpipe fatalities in south America a year, but didn't have any luck, so if anyone knows I would be very interested to know.

Im now traveling on my own again, which seems strange after nearly a month with Tanja and Eva and having the most amazing week in Tilcara with the girls, but once again I knew the rules: You always have to say goodbye. Actually this time it's not goodbye. I know I have made some real friends and I will see them again in this life. Anyway it's time to start a new chapter. This one will be called the final leg. Next stop Mendoza, after a 18 HOUR bus journey!

OBSERVATIONS

* Argentineans are so chilled, they even take their dogs to bars with them. You can be watching a band and there are just dogs everywhere. Love it!

* I'm sick of being chatted up by horny middle aged Latino America men. All the time; sat at dinner; walking in the street and on the bus. I know I'm in the next age bracket these days but if I'm going to be chatted up, can it be by someone that's hot and not old enough to be my dad!

* I've finally found a south American food I love. EMPANADAS! I'm addicted!

* I'm the clumsiest person alive! Yesterday I managed to punch some poor Argentinean taxi driver in the nose as I put my backpack on, and busted it. Its a horrible feeling standing there while some guy is holding his nose and you think you have broke it. Luckily I didn't, it was just a bit bruised! I gave him a big tip.

* A lot of South Americans seem to have some terrible face piercings.

* I've actually got a lot on my mind at the moment, but even with that, the other day in Tilcara I was sat there and realised I was the happiest I have been in along time. Nothing else really matters after that. It's a good feeling.

* I got in trouble again by being the animal lover that I am, by letting the hostel's cat Lucca into the dormitory, and let him sleep on my bed. It appears most of the girls are allergic. There was a lot if sneezing going on. Oophs!

MY NEW BEST FRIEND

It seems I have made a new Spanish best friend. Her name is Vogue Latino América. I do believe she is the most helpful and interesting best friend I have made in a while as she has helped no end with my Spanish.
When I was with Martin, he told me the best way to learn a language was to read, and that I needed to get reading Spanish. Me being me, and biting off more than I can chew, AGAIN, told him I was going to read a Gabriel Garcia Marquez book (slightly ambitious, don't you think)? Since then I have been hunting round South America for one, only finding one in Peru brand new, which was way to expensive and I told myself I wasn't going to pay that amount (I'm on a budget don't you know)! All I have found since are versions in English, and last time I checked I could read English pretty well! Hence my learning Spanish through reading had come to a bit of a standstill, until now! I'm now hiding away in the most chilled hostel in the world in a little village called Tilcara in the north of Argentina. There is not a lot to do here apart from relax, so I saw it as a good opportunity to get out my Spanish books and start learning again. The only problem is, I keep getting easily distracted, so instead of using google translate on my phone, I seem to find myself logged onto facebook, checking my emails, or browsing the Top Shop website for the latest fashions (even though I have told everyone whilst I have been traveling I haven't once; I'm a big liar: I miss you Top Shop; I miss fashion)!
With my love of fashion in mind you should of seen my face, when I came across a recent edition of Vogue Latino América! Bingo! I haven't stopped reading it all day. I've been tapping away on google translator like there is no tomorrow. I now can tell you all the words in Spanish for pattern, lace, embroidery, pleating and off the shoulder neckline! Heaven. Thanks Vogue Latino América, your the best friend a girl can have.

BENIDORM BAD GIRL 4: SALAR UYUNI

Yes, I seem to be on a good run of Benidorm bad girl at the moment. This is now the fourth! No 4 is taken in Salar Uyuni which is the worlds biggest salt desert and I think it makes the most dramatic setting for Benidorm bad girl so far. May the good run, keep continuing. Though that does mean I still have to carry on making a complete idiot of myself round South America!

WHERE AM I GOING?

"All the world is a stage and and all the men and women are merely players", that's what Shakespeare said, wasn't it? Well if that's the case, can someone tell me what role I'm meant to be playing, because I don't know anymore. You see, while nearly all my friends are growing up in life, by having babies, getting married and getting mortgages, I seem to be at the age of 31 rebelling from it all by wandering round south America, partying, having flings with guys from foreign lands and trying not to be responsible in anyway shape or form. The truth of the matter is, I'm completely lost at the moment, I have no clue where I'm going or what role I'm meant to be playing but it's OK, because I'm traveling and it's OK to be lost when traveling. It's because of this reason, I have decided to extend my trip by a month. I will now not be back until the end of May. My family and friends who say they miss me, have waited this long for me to come home, they can wait a little bit longer for me. I'm not ready to come home yet. I don't want to come back to reality. I want to be lost a little bit longer.

Speaking of lost, I now seem to have found myself now in Chile, which again is a detour from my travel plan, but what a lovely detour it is. This is the story of how I got here.

Me, Eva and Tanja took another awful Bolivian bus ride from Potosi (the highest city in the world) to Uyuni, which once again included terrible roads, having to pee in the open and bad 80s music, which also comprised of a Spanish cover of Chris de Burghs, lady in red! Eventually we arrived at Uyuni, which was a complete dump! Still it was a must on the Gringo trail as it was the gateway to Salar Uyuni, which is the biggest salt desert in the world and a must see in South America.

As much as I have loved Bolivia as a country, I have been very disappointed with the people. After the kindness of the Colombians and the Peruvians, the Bolivians seemed rude, unfriendly and had a really bad attitude to Gringo's. Added to this Bolivians bad roads and that Uyuni was such a horrible place, me and the girls decided on the plan of taking a 3 day tour into the Uyuni desert, after which we would get dropped at the Chilean border and get the hell out of Boliva.

As I have learnt from traveling, when you take a tour, your experience depends a lot on the rest of the group. Well the rest of our group consisted of all Brits! Now I try and avoid Brits abroad, as they are usually just that (Brits abroad!) and I find myself apologising for their behaviour, even more so when their ages range from 18-21, which the rest of my group was; all ten of them! Four of them girls, who all dressed the same, could not be separated from each other, even for the toilet; all they seemed bothered about was the way they looked and between them had the brain capacity of a pea! The boys were just one big bag of testosterone, who only seemed bothered about getting in the four girls knickers and trying to act hard to disguise their public school boy past. All in all it made for entertaining 3 days if nothing else! There was one other member to the group, a another Brit Elliott who at 26 was more with us as he fell into our age group, of the golden oldies, which we had began to feel like!

The group was split into two jeeps. Our jeep consisted of me and the girls, Elliott and two of the young guys; Johnny and Dave, who seemed very reluctant as Eva was sick and they thought she was going to throw up over them and they couldn't be with the other girls and work on getting into their knickers!

So off to the desert we went. The day consisted of the boys drinking loads, the girls stripping off to their underwear in the desert to take photos of each other, the boys getting erections, finding some binoculars and shouting " Oh f**k, that's so hot!" a lot. As distracting as this juvenile behaviour was, it did not ruin for me the salt desert of Uyuni, which has to be the most amazing landscape I have ever seen in my life. It's so magical, it doesn't look real, even when you see it with your own eyes. I do believe there is nothing like it on earth. What I saw there will stay with me to the day I die.

We then had a three hour drive to our hotel for the evening, so we decided to get in some beers. The boys had got some nasty local spirit and were mixing it with coke and kept offering it us. Well if you can't beat them, join them so we did. Before we know it we are all soooooooooooo drunk. We are singing our hearts out to Oasis songs; Eva is mixing the drinks and getting whiskey all over her arms, which she makes the boys lick off; we piss off our driver, Mario by having to stop to pee ever two seconds; we have to pee next to llamas; Tanja is soooooooooooo drunk she starts trying to catch a llama; Tanja starts kissing Johnny and the next thing Elliott asks to kiss me and I say "OK, then"! It's totally crazy. I'm drunk in the back of a jeep in the desert, kissing some guy over the seat that I don't even fancy, like a thirteen year old. Hanging with teenagers has turned me into acting like one. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. I do remember Tanja throwing up and being put to bed; me thinking I was fluent in Spanish while talking to the locals; me losing my bag; me finding my bag and me nicking one of the pea head (I now refer to the group as the pea heads!) boys toilet paper because I couldn't find ours!

The next morning we all woke up with huge hangovers and Tanja not knowing where she was. I sat with Elliott for breakfast and we both hadn't got a clue why we had started kissing and laughed about it. Then it was also revealed he had kissed Eva later that night, even funnier, though he did start quoting the bible to her after (worrying)!

The rest of the day was quite painful, because not only did I have a hangover, I had to deal with the pea heads too. After surviving the day and seeing some amazing scenery, we arrived at our accommodation for the night. After eating me and the girls decided to have a early night because we felt so rough.

Unfortunately we were sharing our room, with the pea head girls, who decided they were going to go to the pea head boys room and play drinking games to the early hours of the morning, which is shit when the walls are paper thin. You can hear everything, so when they crawled back to the room late, I was still wide awake, which should of made me angry as we had to be up at 4.30am, but I would not have wanted to have missed the following for the world! Please imagine the following conversations, in the most girly, squeaky, stupid voices you can imagine.
"Oh my God girls, the boys call us the untouchables, because we are so untouchable! Isn't that cool?"
"yeah that's cool"!
"So cool"!
"Cool!"
"Steph, I think you should get off with Dexter!"
"I can't! He looks like my dad! I can't get off with my dad can I?"
"Lucy, Brad loves you, I think you should have sex with him".
"Really? Does he? Maybe I will have sex with him"?
"Is it wrong to shave your stomach"?
"No Paris, it's cool, I did mine in the shower this morning".
"It's cool Paris".
"Cool".
While this is going on I'm under my sheets, shoving my pillow in my face, so they cannot hear how much I am laughing. I find out the next morning Tanja was doing the same.

After really no sleep, but a very entertaining night, we head out to see the Geyesers and the hot springs. All the girls are put in one jeep, which I quite enjoyed as I am finding the pea heads very funny now, probably for the wrong reasons, but funny all the same.

We head for the hot springs, which all the pea heads are very excited about: the boys because they get to see the girls half naked and the girls, because they get to show the boys themselves half naked and they have also shaved their stomachs. Me and Tanja sit and watch with amusement, but when we head out of the spring, we realise the boys are making comments about us and having a good stare at us in our bikinis. I guess the girls aren't as special as they think they are. When guys are that age, they are so testosterone all they really need is a woman who is breathing, and with breasts. I then realise I have left all my dry clothes in the jeep and have to runaround in my bikini. That said there is something very liberating parading around the Andes in just your bikini.

After breakfast me, Tanja and Eva have to go to the border in a jeep, to catch our bus in time. This seems to be a very traumatic thing for the Pea heads as it means three of them have to come in our jeep, thus separating them all for more than 2 minutes. The girls flatly refuse to come with us (selfish as well as dumb)! The boys all can't decide and the whole thing turns into a mission, which we are getting very angry with as we might miss our bus. After shouting at them, three very reluctant boys sit riding with us to the border. We reach the most remote boarding crossing ever and I'm glad to see the back if them all. I'm too old for all their rubbish and I'm reminded why I would never want to be 21 again. No more teenagers, though I can't say it wasn't a very entertaining experience, just one I don't want to repeat.

I am now in a great little town called San Pedro Accama in chile. It was so the right decision to come here. The people are great, there is brilliant wine, I'm out of high altitude at last and back into shorts, vests and flip flops. The only regret is that I haven't got more time to explore Chile. Tomorrow, we head for Argentina. At least there is one place I know where I'm going in life.

BENIDORM BAD GIRL 3: THE WORLDS MOST DANGEROUS ROAD!

I'm quite accident prone, so cycling down the worlds most dangerous road might not seem like the most sensible idea, but I do like a challenge, and my altitude sickness has got much better, so I couldn't resist. Besides only 13 tourists have been killed since the cycling began, 10 years ago. That averages out at just over one a year, so I rated my chances. Saying that no one has died so far this year! The road, use to be the main highway up to La Paz and in it's time took the lives of 200-300 people a year in car accidents, making it the road with most number of fatalities in the world, hence the name. Luckily the government opened a new, safer road ten years ago, so the old road is just left to crazy backpackers on bikes and a few odd locals in trucks.

We started our 65km journey at 4,690 metres above sea level (which is the same height as Mount Everest's base camp), in thick snow and icy winds. Luckily we were padded up to the nines, but it was still wet and freezing and for the first hour I couldn't feel my feet or my hands, which isn't great for braking! The first 30 minutes were on Tarmac, but then after that, the real challenge begins, as the rest of the journey is on gravel dirt track. I cycle in London, but this was a whole new ball game. The gravel was loose and it was down hill all the way, this equals, very scary indeed. As I nearly go flying off my bike right at the beginning of the gravel, I start to get frightened! I'm cycling down hill in the fog, can't really see what I'm doing, on a road that in parts seems hardly wide enough for bikes never mind cars, knowing that if I make a wrong move it's a 800m sear drop off the edge, and I suddenly think: Carly, you are such an idiot, you have taken it too far this time! Basically, to put it in an uncouf manner: I'm shitting it!

I decided to take it at my own pace and placed myself at the back of the group, and as the flog disappeared and sun came out, I started to feel better with the terrain. This was short lived as I go over a mount, lose control and the next thing I know I'm flat on the floor (but a least it's not over a cliff)! It seems I'm not the only one though. Eva, one of the Danish girls has fallen off in the same spot, but is a lot more hurt than me. She has a swollen hand, elbow and knee and is unable to continue with the ride. I do what, I learnt to do with horse riding, which is get straight back on and get on with it.

Instead of scaring me more, the fall seems to have the reverse effect, and I lose all my nervousness and just go for it. In no time I'm speeding down the mountain at break neck speed, as I realise it's better not to use your brakes too much. In fact I'm really enjoying myself now, the more crazy the incline, the better. Our group (minus Eva), make it to the end, and we are all still alive. Yeah! It's a good feeling. After a descent of 3,450 metres; through 7 microclimates, through rivers, waterfalls and snow, we have made it to the bottom. I can say I survived the worlds most dangerous road, though the next day I did have a very bruised body! You can't have it all though.

OBSERVATIONS

* I can't wait to get to Argentina(they are meant to be taller there), so I don't feel like Godzilla anymore. The people in Peru and Bolivia are total midgets! Most of them only come up to my chest, and I'm not joking!

* Some one really needs to tell the local women in Peru and Bolivia, that they need to wear bra's . They are not flat chested and by the time they are old their breasts are really down to their waists. Not a good luck!

* People in Bolivia don't seem to be able to flush the toilet after themselves. Disgusting!

* Bolivia seems to have the most awful selection of wedding dresses and cakes I have ever seen. Take for example this little number below ( yes! They don't just do White)! Do you think it will suit me?

LIFE ON THE EDGE

I'm one of those people in life that things, just happen to, especially when I'm traveling. Take for example the time I crashed a moped on a driving test in the Cook Islands and took all the skin off my knees, knuckles, elbows and had stitches in my chin. Then there was the time I got water poisoning in Cambodia and couldn't eat properly for weeks and came home looking like a famine victim with my clothes falling off of me. Also there was that time in India when on the sleeper train in a cabin with five Indian men, I woke in the middle of the night to find that one of them had placed his hand beneath my sheet to have a good feel and I had to scream, switch on all the lights and wake the whole carriage. Oh! And there was that time, up that volcano in Indonesia when I set my shoes on fire at the top trying to dry them on the camp fire because they were wet, and I had to do the rest of the trek, with my shoes falling to pieces and then bare foot! Actually something much worse happened to me up that volcano but it was so traumatic I can't talk about it; let's just say it was bad, really, really bad. Oh God!

So far on this trip, I've been quite lucky, but I was waiting for something to happen and it did. It was altitude sickness. I had experienced some in Bogota: headaches and breathlessness, but this was nothing compared to what I experience in the higher plains of Peru and Bolivia. When I arrived in Puno, Lake Titicaca I felt completely fine, which I was surprised at, as it's 3822m above sea level. My surprise was short lived though, as I woke that night at around 1.00am with the worst headache ever and just couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. In the morning I tried to walk to the lake but was so out of breath, I nearly fainted. The headaches, the insomnia, continued but it was the breathlessness that was the real problem.

By the time I had crossed into Bolivia and reached La Paz, I wasn't in a good way. I couldn't even speak with out being out of breath, never mind climbing a flight of stairs. I had been at high altitude for five days now, and instead of getting better I was feeling worst. Luckily I was now traveling with two Danish girls, Eva and Tanja who I met on the Isla de Sol on Lake Titicaca. From past experience, I know it's the worst thing to be ill when your traveling on your own. As I started to get chest pain and felt like I could hardly breath, the girls got worried and said I needed to see a doctor because altitude sickness can be fatal. So off we went to the hospital. I was put on a oxygen tank and had to have my lungs X-rayed. Luckily there was no water on my lungs. The doctor said I had altitude sickness, but it wasnt the dangerous type. He gave me a load of medication, told me to rest and not drink alcohol (that's going to be hard!), and I should start to get better soon.

The next day I decided to follow doctors orders and took a short walk to the Market with the girls, but as not to over do it, I decided to walk back to the hostel. As I was walking I could hear lots of noise, like explosions and gun shots going off. I've never heard anything like it in my life. It sounded like a battle zone. I continued on my path, until I found it was blocked by riot police and hundreds of protesters. I had heard, off travellers that Bolivians were known for having lots of protests. This one was about pay cuts. The people were shouting chants and setting off gunpowder rockets.

I decided to head away from them and try and find another route. Unfortunately I headed into another protest, and was trapped. This one was turning more ugly though, as the people were attacking what I later found out was a government official. A local pulled me to the side for safety, as people were starting to throw gunpowder bombs at the police and officials. Just seconds after I filmed this clip you are about to see they opened the water canons and the riot police came in. I have never ran so quick in my life, even with altitude sickness. I got away and is it wrong to say I wasn't scared but found it all very exciting. I'm a total adrenaline junkie and one of my idols is Lee Miller, so what more can I say. So much for taking it easy.

The next after going to visit some ancient Inca ruins, me and Tanja met Eva in a cafe for a drink. It soon became apparent that the riots of the day before were not the end of it, as in the distance we could hear more explosions. It wasn't long before those explosions drew upon us. I looked out of the window and saw thousands of people now marching down the street. The riot police had sealed off all the streets and our cafe pulled down it's shutters and locked it's door and we were closed in. We looked out of the window to see what was happening and the next thing we know, the protesters were throwing dynamite!

We were asked to move away from the window for our own safety. So me being me, I went round to the other window to look what was going on. Just after I finished filming this, the riot police shot tear gas into the crowd and charged.

We stayed holed up in cafe for another couple of hours, until the mob had disbanded and things had calmed down (thank God they had Wi-Fi). It appears there is a lot of unrest with the political situation in Bolivia at the moment, hence the protests. Even though the protesters do not wish to harm ordinary people or tourists, me and the girls think it's probably best to get out of La Paz for safety reasons. So instead, tomorrow, we have decided to be sensible and cycle down the worlds most dangerous road!