Back on the Road, La Paz

Well, thank fuck for that!! After losing nearly two months of life, an odd six thousand soles, and half my liver; I'm finally back on the road. I still couldn't actually believe I was leaving Cusco, that'll own Peru. It seemed like eons had passed on by since I'd first crossed over from Ecuador & made for all that mayhem in Mancora. What an amazing country...possibly the highlight of my trip. Mountains to beaches, jungles to desert; this country has it all. No wonder I kept on jumping ship. One time I was actually in a cab on my way to the bus terminal; yet only made it three blocks down the street, before I got scared, scrambled out & ran back home to The Rover. What a dick. I even needed help to pack my bag. This kid had turned invalid. What was happening?? On the bus that night to Puno, I started having red bull withdrawals because of all those blastered Timmay Bombs!! I reckon we were going through at least four or five a night. Great common sense from a lad who makes teeth for a living...but the heart murmurs passed, and so did the uncertainty. This was happening, and it surely had to. Enough was enough. The rest of the continent was calling. South bound we go!!

The Bomb Squad!!

I was lucky to have such a bitchin' posse when I actually did get the hell out of there. I don't think it would have happened otherwise. Nails was there for shits & giggles, Meera's tattooed head became my metaphor for balls-out bravery, and these two google eyed Sydney-siders were just a great ol' craic. I'd over stayed my visa by a good ten days by the time we made it to the border, and the bloody sponges had me ushered away into a separate building to pay up a hefty fine & fill out some additional paperwork in retaliation. When I came back out the bus and everyone else was gone!! I'd come so close to this happening before, and here we go again!! However, I'd forgot we still had to pass through Bolivian customs...I only had to duck up and over the hill. I'll tell you what though - the altitude up here was a killer. I felt like a right idiot puffing & panting when I eventually caught back up. The crossing itself was located smack beside Lake Titicaca (the highest navigable lake in the world & the most voluminous in South America), a breathtaking expanse of ocean coloured fresh water. We were treated to incredible views the whole trip around on the bus, as the road closely hugged the shoreline all the way to the small tranquil village of Copacabana, where we all planned to spend the next couple of days.

We practically slept for most of the remainder of that day. The binge had finally caught up with me, and at last I could completely pass out!! How good I felt come the next day!! The spring was back in my step. How had I not seen the light sooner?! It was time for a venture out to Isla del Sol, the sacred location of the Inca's creation story. The boat ride was slow & tedious, but the sun was out in force and we couldn't have asked for a finer day. Dropped at the northern end of the island, Nails and I took off hiking south across the parched & barren island. I was a little bewildered by the place in all honesty, how people managed to live in such a stark environment I couldn't seem to understand. I mean, the place more than lived up to its name; it was truly stinkin' hot!! But there didn't seem to be any crops, running creeks, or any real reason to be there at all. The locals were nice enough though (once we'd paid up our passing of course), and would often point us in the right direction. A bunch of young school kids burst out of class at one time when we were walking on by, and followed us down the beach. Nails towered over them like an ogre, and it made for a funny picture as they tried to communicate to us clueless patrons in a 'I'm not actually sure what??' kind of hybrid language. The day was capped off lying about in the sun, soaking up some skin cancer; gulping down melted snickers bars, waiting for our return boat. The fresh air had been nice, but it was time to go spaz in La Paz.

Isla del Sol

Yes, this was my great escape...from one Wild Rover to the next. From what I'd heard, this place had an even crazier reputation than Cusco. I was a little nervous after those few days of good health. Thankfully there had been a giant cocaine bust up a couple of months back, so that had apparently tamed the town down some what. That didn't seem to make much of a difference to us however; our crew was enormous!! It was like the entire entirety of Cusco had migrated in one great wave, bringing all that revelry & excitement along for the ride. I think we started wayyyy too early hey...by 9 o'clock the whole bar was a mess. As for me, I think I was having trouble to adjust. It felt strange being over the other side of the bar, paying full price for booze & not being able to serve my own drinks. If I lost doice I'd be screwed!! It was all down hill from there...I got angry & blamed La Paz, as well as all those unworthy fuckers who inhabit the place. Go to bed Nicko...you're sleeping in the loser room again tonight. Surprise, surprise; I woke up the next day with quite the sore head. Don't let it happen again my friend...suck it up & bounce back.

What better way to kick start my heart, than to go bomb the shit out of 'The Worlds Most Deadliest Road' on a mountain bike!! Ahhh, what a buzz!! This is what I've been missing. Decked out in knee pads, matching jackets & some overly over sized helmets; our group all mounted up on duelies and took off down the mountain. Boy, was that first twenty minutes or so freezing or what!! There was sleet flying in across the lake, and I'd opted for the short-shorts. My balls were snapped like ice cubes, yet that was strangely far from thought. I was ecstatic. Back on the bike, back outside & back on track. Booyahh!! It was even more surreal once we'd finally left the tarmac. The edge of the road just disappeared over sheer cliffs, out into the abyss. At the top you couldn't even see the actual drop because of the hanging cloud, perceiving an eerie atmospheric aura. I went as hard as I possibly could, blitzing the rest of the crowd; trying my best to catch that slippery guide up front. A few times my back wheel shot out close to the edge when I underestimated a corner, but that only got the heart racing harder and made me even more excited. Down-hill mountain biking is like a game of dodgem; there's a confidence factor & you can apparently make it what you want. I was pushing fast, and there was no way I was coming off - think any differently & you might just end up in a nasty situation like our unfortunate friend Cindy here...

Back on the bike!!

So, I still can't quite catch the guide...he beats be to the post yet again. There's a mad gap between us and the rest of the pack however, so I'm still feeling pretty chuffed. Soon a few of the other guys pull up beside us for a short break, and we all go about having a great ol' rant about the ride. About five minutes pass by before we realise there's been no more riders following up behind. We joke about someone somersaulting off the edge...but when another five minutes pass on by we begin to realise that that's probably just what might have happened. Then Byron rocks up & gives us the harsh news..."yea this chick just went over the edge hey..." - (I just loved his next comment) - "...ohhh but don't worry, it was no one we knew..." Turns out we kind of did, and it was one of the girls in our group after all. If she'd been travelling along like a snail I would have branded her a buffoon, but in all fairness she'd been keeping up with the lads more so than any other chick I'd ever seen. Just not her lucky day I guess...actually, in reality luck it seemed was more on her side than we'd have believed. Apparently Cindy had managed to drop a good 20 - 30 meters straight over the edge of a cliff. She'd bailed on the bike, rolled down a bank & came to rest amongst some trees. Had it been any where else on that road and I'm sure she would have been dead. In the process she lost her sunglasses & one shoe, then had to get pulled back up to safety clipped to a rope. It was a pretty epic tale. One that quickly got passed around the bar that evening and moldered into late night folklore.

Our posse hangin' off a cliff

After a few more days it was time to scoot out of La Paz for a while atleast, and head back into the Amazon Jungle!! The last venture had been a trip highlight for sure, and I was pretty keen re-emerse myself in all that festering bio-diversity. Everyone warned us about the bus from La Paz to Rurrenabaque, but at a cost of a mere 90 Bolivianos (in comparison to like $100 for the flight), and me now being a seasoned veteran of the long-distance bus and all - how could I turn down the adventure?? It sure turned out to be interesting, let's just put it like that. Bunked up with Panther & Red for company, it took us a good 30 hours or more to reach our final destination. Having survived the perilous 'death road' like journey down from the mountains, I thought our problems were over. Instead, at about midnight the bus decides to turn off its engine & wait for the crack of dawn to continue, as we've become stuck in the mud. That spot wreaked!! By morning the muddy road outside had been transformed into an open-seweraged toilet. I stepped off to piss at one point & found a little old lady taking a dump up front beneath the wheels!! Moving on from here proved a slow process. It was around 9 o'clock by the time we eventually got going again, and we didn't reach Rurrenabaque until just before dark. Save our grace, we thankfully made it to the travel agencies to book our Pampas tour before the shops shut. All was good. Some how we'd made it. Now it was time to nod off to sleep.

Stuck in the mud on the way to Rurre

It was a long and bumpy ride out to the river in a beaten up old jeep the following day. Things kept falling off from underneath the vehicle, and the front window looked like it could cave in on itself at any given moment. By the time we loaded up and boarded our small boat, I was well & done with land travel for a while at least. The river made for a refreshing change. Practically as soon as we hit the water, animals large & small were everywhere!! Alligators & Black Caiman's sat on the river banks, basking in the afternoon sun. Storks, Kingfishers & even a pack of Macaws dominated the skies. There were Turtles piled up in conga-lines, giant guinea pig like wombat things called Capybaras frolicking in the mud, and pink Spoonbills searching out a feed through the reeds. I loved spotting out the monkeys. A whole mob payed us a curious visit as we pulled up beside in our boat. Later than night we even got to head out for an evening punt along the river in search of the Caiman's evil glowing eyes. It was a perfect start to a perfect excursion. There is something truly tranquil about falling asleep to the sounds of the living jungle.

Squirrel Monkeys!!

Now for the big players!! Today we were off in search of the mighty Anaconda!! I'd seen a little baby one wrapped around a tree back in Ecuador, but I'd heard you often find the monsters out here. A short walk buffed up in rubber gum-boots had us wading vagina deep through a swamp. The scenery was beautiful; purple flowers stretched as far as the eye could see, and sometimes you'd even stumble upon small murky pools clad with cartoon like lily pads. It was hard to know what we were meant to be looking for, but it would have been a fun banter even if we hadn't stumbled across the big snakes. Just as we were losing our shit over this little baby alligator that we happened upon, one of the most incredible things I've ever witnessed took place about 20 meters away, over in the swamp. Out of the water splashed & thrashed this mighty croc; rolling and tumbling making a great ol' commotion. In his mouth was the biggest, most fattest boa I am yet to see. It was gigantic!! As thick a softball, and I'd say at least 4 to 5 meters long!! This was raw nature. We couldn't have planned this. People could sit for days or weeks & never see anything quite like it. Something straight out of a David Attenborough doco. The croc finished the anaconda off with a characteristic death roll, before other alligators & caiman's circled in to join the feast. I was blown away. It was hard to believe what I had just seen.

Sammi & me with an Anaconda!!

We ended the day with a small dose of piranha fishing. Ugly suckers that they are...and damb hard to catch!! Between us we only got two I think, as well as a bucket full of cat-fish. That night we fried one up & shared him around the dinner table. Not the best sushi I've ever had, but something fishy all the same. I think the only possible thing that could have topped the tour of the Pampas itself was the strawberry thickshakes back in Rurrenabaque...holy shit son - blow your load material!! I almost packed up shop & moved in permanently solely for that reason. But that wasn't the way things happened to turn out. Now here I am, back in La Paz, having survived the bus yet again; gearing myself up for my next Bolivian adventure...somewhere!!