Johannesburg to London to Oxford to Colwyn Bay to Leeds to Edinburgh (AKA our new home =] )

Yes I know it’s been a long time coming, but I have finally overcome the procrastination and am sitting down to write this blog. One month ago Ilona and I were in Johannesburg waiting for a flight to the UK, having come to the end of one of the most important times in our relationship, and also probably our whole lives at that point. We have both been amazed at our luck with transport over the past few months, with no lost luggage, no real delays (apart from in Colombia, but that was a bit of an adventure) and no really sketchy parts where we feared for our lives (apart from in Colombia once again, where bus drivers were crazy). Our flight was at 8:15 in the evening, so we had a lot of time to kill at the hostel and airport, so we spent most of it reading and at the airport, sitting in a cafe watching a bit of the coverage of the royal wedding.

As our departure time neared, we made our way to the departure lounge, thanking the smart mother who let her kids run wild before they got on the flight, so they were tired out by the time people wanted a bit of peace. Our flight was an overnighter, so once again, I struggled to sleep in the cramped conditions on the plane, swearing that I would save super hard next time I was on a long haul flight so I could afford a business class seat (it’s never going to happen though, I’m just dreaming). We landed at about 6:30am on the 30^th of April, made our way out of Heathrow and on to the underground, for my first experience on the tube. With all of the different lines I got a little confused, but we made our way to Black Horse Road in Walthamstow (where my parents once lived) and were then picked up by Ilona’s aunt and uncle Coral and Elfneh.

I got my first look at a proper English suburb, which was just so different to what I’m used to back home. All the houses are attached and are essentially one big long building down each street. Though I had seen them before in pictures and all that, it was strange to see the whole suburb like that and experience such a different way of living. Our time in London was spent sightseeing for my benefit as Ilona had seen much of it before. We hit the usual spots like the London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben and the House of Parliament, Westminster Abbey (which had a line of people waiting outside that stretched about 2kms down the road!), Camden Markets, Hyde Park and the New Zealand War Memorial. We quickly discovered that eating out was horrendously expensive, so we bought a bit of food from home when we went out. We did, however, have my first proper English pub meal in a place off Oxford St.

After a few short days, we set off again, jumping on the train to Oxford to meet up with Ilona’s Uncle Paul and Aunt Suzanne, along with their two girls Klara and Norah. Oxford is a really nice little town and I was looking forward to doing a bit of exploring, especially because of its historical significance and the University. Exploring was very interesting as a lot of the buildings in the University area were very old, set along cobbled roads and very beautiful. We picnicked in the park near where some of the Harry Potter films were shot and also visited the Natural History Museum, which, despite being small, was packed with skeletons, stuffed animals and fossils.

Everybody in Oxford seemed to cycle, so one of the evenings all six of us rounded up a bunch of bikes and rode alongside the canal towards a nice garden pub just out of the main town, watching rowing crews row past on the way, making me wish I could be rowing again. Unfortunately at this stage, I was beginning to get very swollen glands and pain inside my mouth, along with headaches, nausea and dizziness. By the next day it had become worse, so Paul called up the doctor for me and they referred me on to an out of hours dentist (it was a Saturday) where I went and who quickly diagnosed the problem as being an infected gum flap over my lower right wisdom tooth. She prescribed me some antibiotics and sent me on my way.

Later that afternoon we jumped on a train to Colwyn Bay in Wales, for us to meet Ilona’s Grandpa. At this stage I was in pretty bad shape and couldn’t chew anything, only being able to imbibe liquids due to the pain in my mouth. Ilona’s Grandpa lives in a retirement home in his own self contained flat which was too small for Ilona and I to stay in, so we were able to use the guest flat that luckily was available. The next two days were spent touring around Colwyn Bay and the surrounding villages, visiting spots of interest and meeting people that Ilona’s man-about-town Grandpa was always seeing.

Unfortunately I was progressively getting worse and the infection in my mouth was spreading, with what looked like ulcers popping up on my tongue, inside my cheeks and on the roof of my mouth and the dizziness and fatigue reaching an all time high. Sightseeing was made a little easier by the fact that we walked quite slow for the sake of Ilona’s Grandpa, but even still, I couldn’t last long and would be resting in bed for a fair chunk of the day. Thankfully, they were single beds and were very, very comfortable. While I was bedridden, Ilona turned into super-girlfriend and waited on me hand and foot, going out to the supermarket to buy me nice soups (we couldn’t make any because the kitchen was too ill-equipped) and also smoothies. It was very nice of her and I felt bad for making her do it, but she would just keep reminding me about her time being sick in Peru and that it was just payback.

After a couple of days in Wales we headed up to Leeds to meet up with Ilona’s Grandma. I was still on liquids and she had very nicely made me some soup, which was very tasty. Though I was dying to eat solid food and was too tempted to resist bites of several tasty morsels (and regretting it immediately as it hurt too much), I was glad I could still have soup and was thankfully not getting sick of it by that stage.

Most of our time in Leeds was spent walking around parks and abbeys that had been destroyed over time, which meant lots of artsy-fartsy photos and complaints from Ilona whenever I tried to take one of her! Her Grandma was also fussing over me a lot, which was nice, but she never let me help with anything like cleaning up or cooking, which made me feel a bit too useless and bad for being waited on all the time! I’m not used to it! I did visit the local doctor though who realised that I had been wrongly diagnosed, and due to this, had been given medication that had exacerbated the problem, causing me to develop oral thrush. He prescribed me some special mouthwash which cleared up the thrush almost straight away and also took a swab test from my mouth. On the morning of Friday the 13^th, we were driven to the train station for our final stretch of our near 4 month journey. Our train went to York and then we changed over to complete the trip up to our new home town of Edinburgh.

Ilona’s Aunt Ruth was there waiting for us and we then hopped on a bus for the journey from Waverley Station in to Portobello. My first impressions of Edinburgh were very good; the huge stone tenements stretching down the roads and the castle standing tall in the middle of the city gave it a great sense of history and importance. Portobello is a nice little suburb in the north-east of Edinburgh, right on the Firth of Forth. It’s in a great position as it’s quite close to town, Holyrood Park and Arthur’s Seat, while still feeling away from the hustle and bustle of the inner city. Edinburgh itself is much smaller than I thought it would be which is great because it means that everything you would need it within close proximity.

Settling in to our new home has been easy, helped by the fact that Ilona got a job almost immediately. For the first three weeks we have been here she has been working as a nanny, looking after three under five year olds (and two dogs!), earning good money and gaining some valuable experience in childcare. I have been having a much harder time finding a job, spending most of my days looking for available jobs on all sorts of websites, going to a couple of interviews and trying to stave off severe boredom. Without Ilona to keep me company during the day I have had little to do, so have been on a few walks around, checking out my new neighbourhood and Holyrood Park. One day I went on a long walk up to Arthurs Seat, the hill in the middle of the park that offers panoramic views of Edinburgh, and is allegedly one of the possible sites of Arthur’s Court of Camelot.

On our second Saturday here we had been invited to a céilidh (pronounced kay-lee); a traditional Gaelic social gathering which involves folk music and traditional dance, celebrating two of Ruth and Gordon’s friends leaving to go live in Norway. Unfortunately, this was the same night as the Champions League final between Manchester United and Barcelona. Ilona and I both went and took part in a few dances, which were a lot of fun, but I along with Gordon; Ruth’s partner, snuck out and ran back home (which was luckily only just around the corner) to watch most of the game. I came back at half time and again when the game had finished and took in a few more dances and also tried haggis for the first time. I had expected to not like it at all, but was surprised as I enjoyed it more and more with every mouthful. I can understand why a lot of people wouldn’t like it, but the spices made it a lot more palatable.

Over the first few weeks of living in Edinburgh, while I was trying to fill all the free time I had, Ilona was desperately trying to find some time to relax, as her nannying job was taking up so much of her energy. So much so, that by the end of her three weeks, all she wanted to do was relax and do nothing, but of course that would never be the case and she had an interview and trial at a local cafe to work as a waitress and barista. At this point she is on a two week trial period to see if she works well there and if they want to offer her full time employment, so fingers crossed! As for me, I’ve been able to pick up a job working behind the bad at a pub that’s about 15 minutes away on a bike. It’s called the Sheep Heid Inn and is Scotland’s oldest pub, originally established in 1360! The history behind the place is so hard to comprehend, especially coming from a country that has only really seen western civilisation for the past 200-odd years. Unfortunately it’s only a part time job at the moment, so I’m still on the lookout for a more permanent job.

Lately we have been searching for prospective flats in the area, having gone to have a look at a couple, but not liking much of what we have seen. There is one flat that we are going to have a look at in the next couple of days that we both absolutely love the look of from the pictures we’ve seen, so we’re holding out for that one; otherwise we’re not in any real rush to move out until we have found exactly what we’re looking for.

On another note, we are both looking forward to Friday because Rowan and Claire arrive in Edinburgh and will be staying with us for a while. It’s going to be nice having people from home around as it will give us a bit of a reminder of what we’re missing back in New Zealand! Like us, they have decided to come to the UK and call Edinburgh home for a while as they do a bit of overseas travelling and seeing the world.

After this blog, I don’t know how regular the updates will come as our lives will start to see some form of regularity and sameness, so they won’t be as exciting as some of our previous ones. We will try to get one up every few weeks or so just to give people a general update, but there probably won’t be much interesting content until we begin to start travelling again.

So here’s to the next 18 month or so of living in our new home of Edinburgh!

Mike.

Buenos Aires to Johannesburg to Cape Town to Johannesburg

Our last dinner in South America was at a nice restaurant, but unfortunately we were not all that impressed with the food, nonetheless it was a nice last evening. The next morning we woke up and exchanged Easter eggs before packing the last few bits into our packs. We were a bit worried about the weight of them as we had no way to gauge just how heavy they were but packed an extra bag in our hand luggage just in case we needed to remove anything at check in. Luckily we were under the weight limit as South African Airlines allows 23kg per bag and Mike's pack was 22kgs and mine 18, allowing for a few more purchases in South Africa, despite the issue of space.

Thankfully our flight from Buenos Aires to Johannesburg was relatively empty, meaning we could have two seats each and allowing for a little more sleep that we would have otherwise had. Nevertheless we still arrived in Johannesburg feeling worse for wear, most likely not helped by the fact that although it was 8am in Johannesburg it was still only 3am in Argentina. It was really strange being back in an English speaking country, and I kept starting off saying things in Spanish before realising that it's the wrong language, even after a few days I'm still finding it hard. There have been a few other things that we had originally struggled to get used to when we first arrived in South America that have now become normal and we are having to readjust to again, these include putting toilet paper in the bin vs the toilet itself and what side of the road cars drive on as we're now back to right hand drive vehicles. It has however been nice being back in a country that is in someway closer to home, I've had salt and vinegar chips, something that I really missed whilst feeling carsick on the long winding bus trips through South America. Another thing we found was some hot cross buns, although it is after Easter they tasted fantastic and having them made Easter feel complete.

We caught another flight on to Cape Town, again with South African Airlines who I have been very impressed with. They have had food better than most what you get served on most airplanes, and they had little extras that I remember from flying back in the day, such as free socks, a toothbrush and sleeping mask. Would definitely recommend them.

Arriving in Cape Town we were both struggling to stay upbeat and awake as the lack of sleep, time difference and length of time travelling were all catching up on us. Although it was already 3pm we knew we didn't have very long in Cape Town and were wanted to fit as much in as possible. So although feeling the fatigue, we headed down to the V & A Waterfront which is Cape Town's equivalent to the Viaduct, although a lot nicer and with more to do and with fur seals just chilling out beside the super yachts. There is a large aquarium here that Mike had read good things about and was keen to visit, I wasn't so fussed but was very glad we made the decision to go as some of the sea life there was fascinating. Along with countless bright and colourful fish, there were crabs bigger than my head, an eel whose body was easily larger that a humans torso and some big sharks, all displayed in fun and creative ways. From the waterfront you can get some great views across the city and towards Table Mountain which unfortunately was covered in cloud, or the tablecloth as the locals call it, it was this way for most of the time we were in the city. After the aquarium we headed into the large shopping mall in order to find a supermarket and some bits to throw together and make an easy dinner with. It was starting to get dark at this point and I was feeling well and truly ready for bed so we headed back to the hostel. After all the places we have traveled, this was the most unsafe I have felt even though we were walking along a busy road that was lit with street lights. I'm not sure what it was, because although I have heard stories, I have also heard them about other places we have visited, but whatever it was I was very glad to get back to our hostel.

Although tired I struggled to fall asleep and when I finally did sleep did not last long as I later awoke with a splitting migraine. After taking some strong painkillers I was able to fall asleep and slept deeply only to be woken by the alarm we had set in order to make the most of the day. We had been recommended a cheetah outreach centre to visit by a friend of mine from work in NZ and were rather keen to visit, however we were faced with the issue of how to get there as there was no public transport. We ended up deciding to hire a car for the day as our hostel could do us a good deal, and we vowed to make the most of it and fill the day going to places we otherwise would be unable to reach. First off we headed to the Cheetah outreach which was based on a vineyard 30min outside the city. We wandered around the centre checking out these magnificent animals, all that have been bread in captivity and are used for education and in breeding programs. Along with the Cheetahs the center also breeds a certain type of dog to protect stock and not attack approaching Cheetahs. These dogs are gifted to farmers to protect their stock and in turn the farmers promise not to shoot any Cheetahs that come near as this is one of the biggest causes of the depletion of the Cheetah population. After walking around we decided to stroke one of the Cheetahs, this was a small extra cost but fully worth it. We even got him purring!!

Along with the Cheetah outreach, the vineyard also had a birds of prey rescue centre which we visited next. It was interesting seeing the African birds of prey, and comparing them to those we had seen in the rescue centre in Ecuador. None here were as big as the condor but they did have an awesome bird of prey that looks more like a heron. Here we were able to hold a owl, I was a little freaked out when it looked straight into my eyes with its big orange ones!

Along with the two animal centres the vineyard also has a couple of restaurants, one where we grabbed a bite to eat, my curried pumpkin, feta and lentil wrap was amazing! We were interested in doing a wine tasting as along with everything else it was very reasonably priced however we were eager to keep moving and make the most of having the car so bought a couple of bottles of wine instead that have been squished into my pack.

The vineyard was amazingly beautiful and we wished we had more time to spend there as there was a lot to see and plenty of walks to do but we were not disappointed to have left when we did as the rest of the day turned out to be just as amazing. We hit the road again heading down to Cape Point and Cape of Good Hope, places that we couldn't have got to without a car. The road ran down beside the huge rock form that Table Mountain is a part of, winding beside the brilliant blue rough sea, and though small towns until it reached the national park at the end. I was very excited as we drove past signs warning of us of baboons! At the national park we received a brochure which described some of the other animals in the area including zebras, whales and ostriches, my excitement mounted! We headed straight down to Cape Point, bypassing all the little side roads, planning to explore them when we headed pack past. At Cape Point we were met by hundreds of tour buses, guess we could have gotten there another way..., and we parked the car before climbing up the path to the lighthouse. From here you could get a good view of the impressive mountain range that makes up the peninsula all the way back to Cape Town, unfortunately however the was a pylon obstructing this magnificent view. From the lighthouse I attempted to spot a whale but to no avail, I'm not sure if it's even the right time of the year.

We then continued through the national park to the Cape of Good Hope, catching a bunch of ostriches on the side of the road! Cape of Good Hope was blustery and cold and we were aware that time was ticking at the national park closed at 6.19pm so we jumped back in the car and headed to some of the smaller roads which were without tour buses. On these roads we were lucky enough to see more ostriches, quite a few springboks and a ZEBRA!!! I was very excited to have seen one in the wild, unfortunately although there were plenty of warning signs we did not see any baboons. There were plenty of walks to be done in the national park but unfortunately due to our time restrictions we couldn't do any so they join the hundred and one things on our to do next time list. We left the park just before it closed and headed back towards Cape Town along the other side of the peninsula to that which we came down. One part of this road, which we drove along just before darkness was very impressive as the road had literally been cut out of the rock face, creating three sides of a tunnel and the opened side was filled with views down to the rough sea below. We stopped in a small town to get some dinner before making our way back to Cape Town in time for Mike to watch Man U play Schalke in the European Champions League.

We set the alarm for early the next morning in order to once again fit the most we could into our day. We had the car until 10am and thankfully, Table Mountain was clear, one of the few times it was when we were in Cape Town. So we jumped into the car and headed up to the top of one of the hills to the side of Table Mountain where we got a fantastic view back over the city and towards the mountain itself. We then headed to the cable car that took us to the top of the mountain. Before we left NZ we had bought adaptor plugs for everywhere but forgot about South Africa so we had been crossing our fingers that our camera battery would last but unfortunately it was at this point that it died. We thankfully also have a small point and shoot so were able to get some photos because it truly is an amazing place and the view is mind blowing!! We had timed things perfectly because just as were were ready to head back down the cloud started billowing up the mountain and within minutes the view had disappeared completely.

After dropping off the car we stopped in at a cafe and I was thrilled to see that they did Flat Whites, (jealous much Dee)! The coffee arrived with velvet smooth milk and a perfect hit of strong coffee, I was in heaven and back on Ponsonby Road. That coffee will keep me going until I, fingers crossed, find somewhere in Edinburgh that does good coffees.

One of the things I had really been wanting to do in Cape Town was visit Robben Island when Nelson Mandela and many others had been imprisoned. Unfortunately the ferry workers had been striking for the four days beforehand and although their strike had ended there was a massive backlog of people who had bought tickets for the previous days and there was no way we would get on a boat. We did however head back down to the V & A waterfront to try our luck but to no avail so this trip also goes on our to do next time list.

As we were down at the waterfront we decided to get some new reading material as apart from picking up a few books in book exchanges in hostels and the odd English language bookshop we have been lacking English books. This hasn't been such a problem for Mike, however I have been tearing though every book we have and was really in need of something to read. With our book and magazine desires fulfilled we snuck a look in the Lonely Planet for South Africa to work out what we could do for the afternoon as we could not go to Robben Island. A museum was mentioned as the one to go to if you were to only go to one so we headed there, only to not be able to find it anywhere. After early starts and full days we were ready to just head back to the hostel, however navigating our way back turned out to be a little more difficult than our map implied. Once back at the hostel I dove into Mike's book, telling myself I could not read my own until I was on the plane. Mike had chosen Open which is Andre Agassi's autobiography, although I'm not a massive tennis fan it is a fantastic book and I haven't been able to put it down since, even reading it in the line while we were waiting to board the plane back to Johannesburg. That evening we once again attempted to fit everything into out packs, the extra two bottles of wine made things a little harder than last time but in the end everything went in.

Our flight back to Johannesburg was again with South African Airways and for the first time we had little screens on the back of our seats. One of the channels showed the view from a camera that was attached to the tail fin of the plane, allowing for a view unlike any other. As it was only a 2hr flight we couldn't make the most of the screens but fingers crossed we'll have them on our 12hr flight tonight to London. We arrived in to Johannesburg around 3pm yesterday and our flight isn't until 8.15 tonight but we won't be seeing the city as it's just too dangerous. To add to the safety issue the central city is piled high with rubbish, in some parts roads have been reduced to one lane as rubbish is piled high taking up the other. This is a result of the ongoing strikes the rubbish workers have been on, so instead we're just staying at a hostel near the airport which does have a pool but it's a bit too cold for swimming.

I can't believe that tomorrow we'll finally be in the UK. Although one journey is ending our next is just beginning which is very exciting. I already have an interview lined up for a nannying job and we're both excited about starting a new chapter of our life. We promise to keep up with the blogs, and keep everyone up to date with how our lives are progressing.

Ilona

Buenos Aires to Colonia to Montevideo to Buenos Aires

So this will be our final blog in South America. It's crazy that three months have already passed, but we're both kind of glad to be leaving the continent, as we are getting a little tired of the language barrier, different customs and food, and are keen for the comforts of something closer to home.

Our Uruguayan adventure started with a rushed taxi to the ferry terminal, sprinting through customs and jumping on board the boat with minutes to spare. It was a very large ferry with cafe tables, so we parked ourselves on one of them for the three hour trip to Colonia del Sacramento, eating, drinking and reading.

Colonia is a beautiful little town about two hours northwest of Montevideo on the river. It's been certified as a Unesco World Heritage site and for good reason. The old town shares a rich Spanish and Portuguese heritage that is reflected in the buildings, street design and thefortifications around it. Walking around the town is easy as it is quite small, and theres always so much to look at.

Ilona was in her element as she loves autumn, and the trees were shedding their leaves creating a very idyllic setting for her to frolic around in. After checking into our hostel (which was spacious, sparse and comfortable) we had lunch and strolled around town, taking photos and ended up having ice cream at an heladeria, which was nothing short of amazing.

Back at the hostel we met a Kiwi guy called Jesse from a town in the Hawkes Bay called Te Awanga, where some cousins of mine are from. I asked if he knew them, but he didn't. We ended up going out to dinner with him and I ordered myself an Angus steak, which was fantastic, and Ilona downed a whole mini bottle of wine, which she really enjoyed.

The next day we headed off with Jesse to see an abandoned bullring just up the river, which we had planned on doing the previous night, but all of the hire shops for bicycles were closed and it was too far to walk. We rented cruiser bikes for a couple of hours and set off down the waterfront towards the bullring.

When we got there we found an impressive stadium that was crumbling away behind a wire fence, riddles with large holes and torn down sections. We chained our bikes up and climbed over the fence to check out the 100 year old stonework inside and take some pictures. There were a couple of people around doing the same, so we thought nothing of it. Most of the building was still structurally sound enough for one person to walk on it, and we just had to avoid a couple of big holes in the concrete, but large chunks of the exterior walls had fallen away, leaving it looking much like a Coliseum style ruin.

We were only in there for a couple of minutes and takes one or two photos when a guy came in and started yelling at us. It seemed that we were being very naughty for being in there! We reluctantly left, but hung around as the security guard drove away, cycling around the outside and scoping out a few more entry points. They could have done a better job of keeping people out, as the fence was doing absolutely nothing, considering the amount of holes in it.

After about 15 minutes of hanging around the outside and taking more pictures, Jesse and I dumped out bikes in a nearby bush and snuck back in, because rules just don't apply to us like that. After getting a few more shots of what I wanted, and my obligatory artsy black and white pics, we headed back into town.

Ilona decided that she really liked her bike, and pondered the possibility of getting a cruiser for shopping runs when we are in the UK. We said goodbye to Jesse when we got back and headed down to the bus station, immediately jumping on a bus to Montevideo.

Two hours later we were in a taxi on our way to another big, comfy hostel in the middle of town. It was late-afternoon when we had checked in and settled, so we went for a bit of a stroll around our surroundings, checking out a big mausoleum for a revered Uruguayan General that was build underneath the main plaza (I was very impressed by it, Ilona not at all) and then for a drink in a cafe by the city theatre. We couldn't be bothered with a nice restaurant dinner, so we settled with California Burrito Company, a Mexican food chain that was recommended by our guidebook. It wasn't all that great to be honest.

The next day bought rain and a very dreary atmosphere, so we took it slow and headed down to the ports for a coffee and nosey around at about 11. We visited a carnaval museum where they celebrate Uruguay's rich ethnic backgrounds that emerge during their carnaval celebrations, displaying masks, costumes, drums and miniature flotillas. Next door there was a large indoor meat market there which we had been told by another traveller that we had to eat at, as she was a vegetarian and even she was tempted to eat some of their incredible steaks. I am glad I went, because I had found exactly what I had been hoping to find.

I had previously said to Ilona that I would be disappointed if I left Argentina and hadn't eaten the best steak of my life. Funnily enough it was Uruguay that gave it to me. We sat at the bar of one of the many restaurants right in front of their grill and watched as dozens of kilos of steak, chorizo, chicken, pork rolls, peppers, cheese and fish was all flame grilled right in front of us. The warmth and smell of it enveloping us and the frantic pace of the open kitchen all combined with the taste of the best steak of my life was enough to get me all giddy and spewing out superlative after superlative, mouth full of juicy beef and a glazed expression in my eyes. It was truly the best culinary experience I had ever had.

The rest of the day just paled in comparison, my meal that night was positively bland and even my ice cream afterwards was sub-standard. Though we did head to a bookstore with a cafe inside to shelter from the rain and cold and had overly-rich hot chocolates while reading books that we had bought from home, which was quite cosy.

That evening I watched Real Madrid win the Copa Del Rey which was a bit of fun and talked to a nice American guy from New York, who reminded Ilona and I of Rowan and Cam mixed together. The next day we packed up and headed to the ferry terminal (on time!), jumped on and headed back to Buenos Aires to finish our last three and a half days.

Yesterday was spent visiting Buenos Aires' famous La Recoleta Cemetery, where many important figures of the past two centuries are buried, like many past presidents and most notably, Eva Peron (Evita). Some of the crypts were very grand and ornate, while some were very run down. There were large central pathways between the plots and lots of smaller, darker ones between the back plots, where a lot of mausoleums had been vandalised, in one case to the point where a coffin had been broken so badly you could see the contents inside.

Ilona was so creeped out at this she hurriedly scuttle back to a main pathway, with me following behind and chuckling at the sight of a Goth couple passionately making out on the steps of someone's tomb. Lunch was eaten at an Irish pub and restaurant and then we wandered around a bit more, finding ourselves in a large homewares shopping center, where I had to drag Ilona away from the kitchen stores to vociferous complaints. “We'll do it as much as you want when we actually have a kitchen to buy things for” I told her.We headed back to the hostel where I put off writing this blog for another day and we just blobbed for the rest of the night.

Today we headed into the La Boca district of Buenos Aires, an area famous for it's bohemian art, tango and passionately supported football team. We walked around, taking in the sights and Ilona had awful iced coffee at a cafe (my orange juice wasn't bad though). Afterwards we headed back into town and walked up Calle Florida, the main shopping street where Ilona finally picked up a new pair of jeans that fitted her well as her current pair are falling apart.

Tonight we will have a final meal and celebrate the end of an amazing and life changing experience for us both. Our Spanish has improved to no end, we have both met some amazing people and made some really great friends that I hope we will stay in touch with for years to come. Three months is really not enough to explore this amazing continent completely. One could spend a solid six to nine months here and still have lots to see, but like us, everybody is limited by their budget. We have an extensive bucket list for 'next time' where we will actually do the Inka Trail, complete a Salar de Uyuni tour and see the Galapagos Islands. We really want to see Patagonia and I want ride the World's Most Dangerous Road again (and again, and again, ad infinitum!) There is just too much of the Earth to see and not enough money for us to see it with!

So, on to South Africa we go then!

Mike.

Uyuni to Salta to Buenos Aires

The next morning we were relieved to see that our landrover was one of the better looking ones and that along with a driver we also had a cook. In our group, along with the Irish couple, Aaron and Aofie, there was also a Canadian couple, Jeff and Winny, making eight of us altogether. We squeezed in, with bags tied to the roof and set on our way, first stop the train graveyard.

The train graveyard in only a few minutes outside of Uyuni and as the name suggests it consists of a whole lot of abandoned trains. The trains were once used to transport minerals to Chile, Argentina and La Paz, however in 1985 the venture was discontinued and the trains abandoned. Their carcasses form a vivid reminder of the severity of the elements in the desert, creating a stark contrast against the barren landscape and making for some cool photos. We played around here for 20 minutes or so before heading on our way towards the worlds largest salt flat.

As a result of it being the end of the wet season in Bolivia, a significant amount of the salt is covered in water, most of the time there is only 5cm or so, however some parts were unaccessible because of the water. Although the water stopped us seeing some things it did create amazing reflections and the mountains in the distance all appeared symmetrical and as though they had curved bases which was cool. We stopped at one point to get out of the landrover and take some photos. My boots were still wet from stuffing them in a plastic bag after our Worlds Most Dangerous Road ride so I braved bare feet, and although cold my feet had a nice exfoliating experience. We jumped back in the landrover and headed towards the salt hotel in the 'center' of the salt flats which was to be our lunch spot. While waiting for our lunch to be cooked we played around doing illusion photos. As a result of the size of the salt flats and the lack in many places of any visible mountains, the horizon and the sky blur together, this along with the sparse landscape allows for many fun photos that play with size differences to be taken. We played around with Mike standing on my hand, Me on my bear, Claudia Bongo's head, Mike eating a car etc - lots of fun!

After lunch of salad, meat and quinoa (a very popular grain eaten here), we were on our way. Normally the trip would continue over the salt flats to an "island" that is covered in 1000 year old cacti, however because of the level of water on the salt we were unable to do this and instead drove through the desert for three hours to a small town literally in the middle of no where. About two and a half hours into the drive I started to feel quite sick, at first I put it down to motion sickness from which I have suffered a lot during this trip, however the roads were relatively straight and I didn't feel like I normally do. I was right in thinking it wasn't motion sickness and as soon as we arrived at our hostel, well more mud house, I rushed to the bathroom and was violently sick. As the evening progressed I continued to be sick, unable to keep even water down. Thankfully Jeff, the Canadian guy on in our group was a doctor, providing all the drugs I needed, only thing was I was unable to keep them down. In the end taking the anti nausea rectally was the only option, but even that didn't help and it was a very long night as even with nothing in me I continued to be sick. Jeff was again a life saver providing reassurance when I was vomiting up blood, apparently I had been vomiting so much that my stomach was moving up and causing tearing.

The next morning we made the decision that we had to discontinue our tour as I was just too sick to continue. Unfortunately we were in the worst possible place for me to get so sick. The town could have been in the wild west with tumble weed blowing though, it really was the middle of nowhere. Our driver informed us that there was a bus coming through that would take us to Uyuni at 10.30 so equipped with a few plastic bags just in case my stomach decided it could find anything else to get rid of, I made my way with no strength whatsoever to the main road that ran though the center of town. Although I was in such a sorry state I could still appreciate the beauty of the place we were in, a little desert town with snowcapped mountains in the distance and not a cloud to be seen in the sky. 10.30 came and went with no sign of a bus, some locals informed us that the bus was actually at 11 but that too passed without any dust moving down the road towards us. We made the decision to make our way to the main road that bypassed the town and attempt to hitch a ride to Uyuni, although the road was only 200m away it was a hard move for me to make and took out of me everything I had left.

With the wind sweeping though us we waiting beside the road for anything to come past and nothing did, and then on the horizon we saw dust and as it moved closer, two buses. The first turned off to go though the town and without waiting to see if the second would come past us or not Mike sprinted, with a large pack on his back, a small one on his front and at 3700m above sea level he was pretty much dead when he reached the bus but he made it and they waited as I pushed myself to the max and stumbled the last few meters. The bus ended up being on of the nicest ones that we had been on in Bolivia and I was able to sit next to an open window, meaning I made it to Uyuni in one piece. We checked back into the hostel we'd first stayed in and I crawled into bed, sleeping for the remained of the day whilst Mike waited, looking after me when needed and hoping that I'd get better. I was sick once more before falling asleep that night and awoke the next morning still not ready to attempt stomaching anything.

We had originally planned to catch an overnight train from Uyuni that evening to the Argentinean border, arriving at 7.30am the next day and then get a 7hr bus to the town of Salta in Argentina. Although I was still not well I was managing to keep down the antibiotics and as everywhere was at least a 10hr bus trip away we decided to sick to our original plan, and if still sick I could get to a doctor in Salta, or get a flight to Buenos Aires and go to a British hospital there. That evening before our train, I manged to have half a glass of orange juice and a little bit of salad and keep it down which was a good sign. My biggest worry however was that we would get backwards facing seats and my motion sickness would kick in. Thankfully our seats faced forwards, they reclined a good amount and the train was relatively empty allowing us each to have two seats. This, along with the fact I hadn't really eaten for two and a half days and the gentle rocking of the train resulted in a pretty decent nights sleep and I awoke just before we arrived at the border with a renewed sense of life. Thankfully Mike had also slept well as he had been looking after me wonderfully for the past few days, which had nonetheless taken it out of him a bit. We crossed the boarder with an English guy and an Australian girl, and Mike got a comment from the guys at boarder control about the All Blacks, who knows what it was in relation to but it was nice to have an easy and somewhat joyous border crossing.

At the bus station I guarded the bags and Mike went in search for the earliest bus to Salta. Turns out when people want to sell tickets they lie about the departure time so instead of a 5 minute wait, we had a 45 minute wait. Our bus finally pulled up and we got on board, two hours later however just as I had fallen asleep we stopped and were told to get off the bus and get our luggage. Turns out it was a police drug checkpoint, they had news paper articles on the wall declaring how they had seized 90kg of cocaine, obviously the big stuff they were after. They were however going through everyones luggage, now some people on our bus had literally 6 plus huge bags of clothes and the police were pulling out every item, I saw one lady with a huge bag of shoes and the police man checked every single shoe before chucking them on the ground for her to repack. We were dreading having to open our carefully packed bags, things don't really seem to be fitting unless we actually put some thought into our packing, perhaps we've bought a bit too much... Mike went first and slowly unzipped his pack, unfortunately the police man seemed interested and stated pulling some things out, he was rather interested in a little box we had bought that was made purely of salt but soon realised that it wasn't made of cocaine and let Mike close up his bag. I went next and while the policeman checked my passport I was busily undoing the clasps on my pack. He however wasn't interested in me whatsoever and thankfully didn't even want to look in my bag. Mike thinks he was pulled up because he's Maori and they were racial stereotyping, I think it's the beard... We continued on with no more trouble, had an hour stop in Jujuy and another 2hrs on the bus before reaching Salta.

On first appearences Salta was a lovely city with a distinct European feel, and during our couple of days in the city, these first impressions didn't falter.After a long day and night of travelling and the fact that I still hadn't eaten anything for a very days, we were both ready to get something to eat and the have an early night. Finding somewhere however was hard as one thing that takes a bit of getting used to in Argentina is the time they eat dinner, 8.30pm is considered early and a lot of restaurants wont even open till then. We eventually found somewhere and I ate my first proper piece of food in three and a half days before we crashed and slept for nearly 13hrs. I awoke feeling like I was definitely on the mend, stomached some breakfast and then we set upon the day, first task getting some laundry done. We wandered the streets enjoying the changing leaves, which after experiencing countries that have wet and dry seasons is something lovely to see and I have been marvelling over the effects of autumn. We then headed to the bus station to book our 21hr trip to Buenos Aires, we opted to travel in premium class with fully reclinable seats and champagne served on board. With tickets sorted for the following afternoon, we caught a cablecar up a mountain to a lovely park that provided panoramic views of the city. We stomach rumbling we returned down to the city and headed to another park where we had a nice picnic under a bougainvillea with sandwiches overflowing with amazingly creamy blue camembert, salami, avocado and tomato.

That evening we went to try some Argentinean steak, many claim that the steak in Argentina is the best they have ever had so we went with high expectations. Our hostel had recommended a place and suggested that we only ordered one piece of meat, as I still wasn't eating much we took their advice and are very glad we did. The piece of meat we ordered was as long as Mike's forearm and nearly as wide the two together, I could only manage a little and Mike finished it up. Our verdict was that although good it wasn't amazing, so therefore we are still searching...

With the morning before we had to catch our bus spare we visited an archaeological mountain museum which displayed the very interesting story of Inca child sacrifices, left atop mountains, the exhibition also included one of these children - they have three altogether and switch then periodically. The boy was around 6 years old and was so well preserved from the cold that his hair and skin was still fully intact, rather fascinating.

We boarded the bus and were thrilled to discover that our seats actually reclined into flat "beds"! Time passed relatively quickly due to the constant showing of films in English and I managed to achieve a pretty decent nights sleep. We awoke the next morning stopped at a petrol station in a city four hours outside of Buenos Aires. Some of the passengers were getting rather frustrated, we'd also had a long stop the night before, and it turns out that there was a problem with the water on the bus causing us to have delays, and they had known about the problem before we had set out. We eventually got back on the road and arrived into Buenos Aires just after midday with no more problems.

Both myself and Mike fell instantly in love with the city, which although is the largest we have been in, feels peaceful and calm. Although tired from travelling we decided to head to the suburb of Palermo, where we wandered though the streets, sat with a glass of wine and watched the world go by, browsed a handcraft market and watched some street performers dance tango. Returning to our hostel filled with the magic of Buenos Aires we fell asleep without dinner, awaking with hopes of more amazing experiences.

We weren't disappointed. Being a Sunday one of the cobbled streets is closed to traffic and an antiques market runs. The traditional antique stores are more sporadic than they once were and now handcrafts and tourist items also line the street and intermittently a busker performs. With glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice in our hands and the smells of sugar coated nuts filling the air we weaved between throngs of people, out enjoying the autumn sun. We purchased CD's from the buskers, handmade jewelry from the jewellers themselves, and a photograph displaying a part of the city. When our stomachs started to rumble we stopped at a pub sharing a meat and cheese platter and a salad, along with a glass of wine for myself and a whiskey for Mike - he's been waiting to try some for ages to see if he actually likes it; the verdict is no. We rounded up the day buying Mike some new jeans as his are falling apart and cooking a simple tomato and tuna pasta sauce.

I'm falling asleep writing this but know if I put it off for another day there will just be more to write. We're off to Uruguay tomorrow for a few days before having a couple more days to further explore Buenos Aires and then it's South Africa. I can hardly believe these three months are about to be over, it only seems like yesterday that they began.

Ilona

La Paz to Death Road to La Paz to Oruro to Uyuni

Our first full day in La Paz was pretty slow and easy. Our hotel was directly opposite the witches market, where they sell all sorts of talismans, herbs, potions and even dried llama foetuses. They are the creepiest looking things, as they are all shrivelled, without eyes, their hair is still on their bodies and they are eerily stiff. Locals use them as a good luck charms for new houses, as they are buried in the foundations when they are being built as a sacrifice to Pachamama. There is an old urban legend that when skyscrapers are built in La Paz, drunken homeless people are lured into the foundations, as a sacrifice of a llama is not enough for such a huge building!

The first thing we did that day was to head down to a tour company that was recommended by our Lonely Planet guide book, and also an article in the New Zealand Herald that I had read. I was so excited to book a guided mountain bike ride down what was known as the world's most dangerous road, though the thought of it turned Ilona off completely. This all changed when Ilona heard that the end of the ride resulted in a visit to an animal sanctuary that had monkeys! Ilona was so keen to see a monkey on this trip, but had been quite disappointed up until Aguas Calientes where we saw a small squirrel monkey tethered up outside a small shop to collect tips from travellers unaware to the poor monkey's plight. We didn't really feel that it was right to take pictures or give any money, as the monkey was clearly suffering, being chained up to a tether not even two feet long, given only three little pieces of wood to jump between and not even swing from, and also itching away at numerous sores all over it's body.

So the chance to see some healthy, un-restrained and unexploited monkeys convinced Ilona to take the plunge down death road, which made me quite happy as I didn't have to worry about her being alone in La Paz all day. The company we were with; Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking was owned by a New Zealander and seemed to be very well organised with good equipment and safety gear, and since it was recommended by our guide book, we figured it would be a pretty safe choice. I also booked a ride on their zip line attraction, which is a three line course that traverses the valley at the bottom of the death road, over 200m above the ground and going up to 85kph. My kind of thing!

Lunch was at a Thai restaurant and the afternoon brought an interesting visit to an instrument museum, where numerous styles of churango were displayed, with a few interactive parts as well. We also visited the witches market and purchased a couple of stone carvings of animals and Inka figures, which we decided to turn into Christmas tree decorations once we're in the UK.

Our guide book recommended an English owned Indian restaurant that was only a short walk from our hotel, so we decided on that for dinner. As we were deciding on what to eat, we noticed a bold claim on their menu, saying that their vindaloo was the hottest curry anyone could find in all of South America, and if one were to finish it, they would receive a t-shirt for their effort. Both of us wanted to enjoy our meal, so we opted for something a little milder, but we did notice one poor guy at a table near us struggling and sweating his way through what we could only assume was a vindaloo. We got talking and he offered us a try of his, as he was in no way going to finish it. It was by far the spiciest thing I had ever eaten. I only had three forkfuls and I was in pain, sweating and becoming teary-eyed. It was apparently made with Bolivia's hottest chilli, seeds and all. Apparently one in five people complete it, but I have a feeling that it may be less than that. An Irish couple sat at the table next to us and we got chatting, it turned out that they were doing a similar thing to us, except the opposite way around; they were travelling South America and then going to New Zealand and Australia to live and work for a while.

We hit the sack early that night due to our next day’s adventure, though the large explosions going off intermittently hindered our attempts at sleep. The next morning we rose early and taxied to our meeting spot for our tour, a cafe on the main street of La Paz where we arrived early for some breakfast. 7:30 came and we were out the door, into a van with the bikes on top and off up north for an hour and a half to La Cumbre, our starting point. La Cumbre is set next to a lake at 4,700m above sea level, the highest place Ilona and I had ever been to by a good 700m or so. It was oppressively cold up there, and any movement faster than a walk bought about a good minute of panting, trying to get our breath back.

After a half hour of safety instructions and receiving all of our gear, we were ready to begin.
The company provided us with helmets, riding gloves, goggles, waterproof jackets and pants (mine didn't fit me as they seemed to be sized for Bolivian circus midgets) and a cool neck warmer that we were allowed to keep after the ride. Being in Bolivia, one must do as the Bolivians do, so before we set off, we paid tribute to Pachamama, the Inka god of the earth by each pouring 180 proof alcohol on the ground in front of us, on our front tyres and taking a swig. This is a traditional custom for travelling, and especially for this stretch of road as it is a tribute to the earth in order for it to keep you safe. I even saw a man in a passing van pouring some out of his window as we were about to set off.

The first 20-odd kilometres are on a paved road down from La Cumbre to the Chuspipata Cross Roads, where the Death Road begins. Setting off at the beginning was very fast, very cold and a lot of fun. There wasn't too much vehicular traffic on the road, which was good, as cyclists make up a good 90% of the road traffic these days. We passed through some incredible scenery, enormous snow-capped mountains rising out of the mist, deep valleys below us and gushing waterfalls alongside the road. We passed through a military drug checkpoint that was completely unmanned at the time, past a town that had a breastfeeding woman pictured on it's welcome sign and around a tunnel that people aren't allowed to ride through any more after a French girl forgot she was wearing sunglasses and rode straight into the tunnel completely blind, crashing and injuring herself quite badly. We finished up at a police check point where we purchased entry tickets to Death Road, the proceeds of which went towards communication devices, rescue equipment, machine maintenance, ambulances and signs for the road. There was then an optional 8km uphill stretch where we could either ride it, or hop into the van to get to the end. Bearing in mind we were still 3500m above sea level, I still went ahead and began it, along with half of the group, though Ilona didn't feel she had the lungs for it.

Trying to cycle uphill at 3500m with a 30kg full suspension mountain bike with dirt tyres is most likely akin to walking into a headwind with a parachute strapped to your back, shackled to a ball and chain. It was so hard I could only make it halfway, though am proud to say I made it the farthest out of the group. I jumped back in the van once it caught up with me and then we all headed to the beginning of the dirt section of Death Road. One unique thing about this particular road is that it is the only place in Bolivia where you have to drive on the left hand side of the road. This is so that when cars pass one another along the road, the driver can get a closer view of how close to the edge of the road his wheels are. This also meant that we would have to ride right at the edge of the precipice, as the drop off was on the left hand side of the road as we were going down.

There was heavy cloud around us at the beginning so we couldn't see the drops off the road, which I think was probably a good thing as it was only an eerie white nothingness that was over the edge, rather than trees and rocks hundreds of metres below. We took the first couple of stages slow(ish) as we got used to the road and how the bikes responded to the terrain. These bikes our company had were probably the best of the ones I saw all day, which was good as they could take any kind of punishment you could throw at them. The suspension was so huge and offered so much travel up and down, you could ride over almost any small rock and hardly feel it. The brakes were incredibly strong and were hydraulically operated, so any moisture on the brake discs made almost no difference.

Near the beginning we passed by a monument to the 'five martyrs of democracy' who were five opposition leaders to the military dictatorship in the 1940's who, when the current military government staged elections to win favour with the public started to gain more favour than the current regime. They were all swiftly rounded up, taken to Death Road and booted off the edge of a 600 metre precipice, hence being referred to as the five martyrs of democracy. Until recently there was a cross on the top of the monument, but when a jeep took the corner too fast, rolling over the top of the monument, removing the cross with it and then plunging over the edge of the cliff.

Our ride continued around tight bends, skinny portions of road, under and through waterfalls, and stopping abruptly as we encountered a digger clearing away a landslide that had occurred the previous week. We had to wait for a while as it cleared a safe path in the road, and even when we were allowed to pass, there was still a large boulder teetering precariously above the road. Riding down the road was so fun, I really let myself get into the adrenaline rush at certain points, getting a bit of air as I ran over large bits of stone and feeling the cool air whipping past me. Ilona was a bit more contained, as her fear of heights was still present, despite not being able to actually see the height she was at. I spent the occasional section riding with her, making sure she was ok and to keep her company, but my favourite parts were when I was going as fast as I felt safe going, being a boy and most likely grinning like a complete idiot.

Our guide Phil was from the States and had been working for Gravity for around 7 months, so he knew the track pretty well and kept us all in check. There was only one point where I had to stop myself and try to calm down, as I came round a corner a tad too fast and could feel my back wheel start to slip out a bit. I was making a left hand turn at the time, so was in no danger of going over the edge, but I could have scraped myself up pretty badly had I of fallen.

We had a second road block just after we crossed a shallow stream, where there we a couple of 4x4s parked across the road with ropes tied to the front of them that descended into the bushes below. Apparently what had happened is that a couple of days before, a rival company's van had gone off the road into the bush below, but luckily the driver had escaped with only a broken collar bone and the 4x4s were just there to haul the van back up again. After that point the rest of the road was pretty tame, with some fast bits, but mostly just wide flat sections of the road, through another stream and then into our finishing point in a town called Yolosa.

In all, we had cycled approximately 65km and dropped over 3500m in altitude. When we finished it was the middle of the day and very hot, as it was only 1200m above sea level and in the Amazon Basin. I had my zip line ride to do and was the only one in the group who wanted to do it, so they all made their way to the animal sanctuary while I hitched a ride in a passing flat-bed truck to the starting point of the zip line. If I hadn't of biked down the world's most dangerous road that morning, I would have probably been a bit more excited, but compared to the ride, the zip line just seemed too tame. Yes I was going up to 85kph and suspended over 200m above the valley, but being strapped in and only going in a straight line didn't excite me all that much. I must have been number by the huge adrenaline rush I had already had that day.

Slightly disappointed, I biked over to the sanctuary too meet up with the others and grab lunch, which was a great selection of pasta sauces, salads and some spaghetti. Ilona and I then walked around the sanctuary, checking out the Capuchin Monkeys, Spider Monkeys and numerous exotic birds, like a Macaw and some large parrots. We took a few pictures, downed a well deserved beer and were on our way back to La Paz, driving up Death Road.

I don't know if it was my fear trying to hide itself as excitement or just the fact that I couldn't be scared of the road any more, but for most of the trip back up I laughed my way around tight bends, skinny patches of road and through the lack of guard rails. Our driver had been driving that road almost every day for 12 years, but I didn't know if that was a good thing or bad as he could have been so blasé about it at that point. At one stage we had to stop because of a tyre blowout and then again when we got to the digger clearing away the landslide, where we climbed out of the van and took a bunch of pictures.

Thankfully, our guide left most of the horror stories to when we were driving back up, as he pointed out spots where people had died over the years, such as one corner where three cyclists had been killed, one because she was clearing away the fog from her goggles and missed the corner, one because he just took it too fast and another because he was taking a picture looking away from the ledge and just took one step back too far. Crosses are littered long the road, some of the larger ones pay respect to major accidents, such as one in the 1970s which had been deemed the worst road accident ever, when a truck carrying over 100 people toppled over the edge, all of whom died. Then there was another corner when a cyclist had been going too fast and gone off the edge, and as it turned out, the company he was with actually encouraged it's clients to race each other! One of Ilona and I's favourite stories however, was one that only occurred two years ago, when a woman from La Paz had taken to hiring taxis to drive her to the town at the bottom of Death Road, stopped the driver at a certain point along the way, killed them, dumped their body over the edge and then take the taxi back to La Paz and sell it. She had done it three times when one of the guides from the company we were with started to smell something bad and when he came back the next day, he looked over the edge and saw three bodies lying on a ledge about 30 metres below. The woman managed to kill three more times before she was eventually caught.

Once we returned to La Paz, Ilona was dropped at the hotel where she could get a head start on packing for the next day's bus and train ride to Uyuni, but I stayed in the van until it got back to their workshop, where I could grab all of the photos of the day and put them on a hard drive for us to keep. Both of us were incredibly tired when I made it back to the hotel, so we ran out to get a quick feed at a cool Mexican place with day of the dead themed murals and shrines around the restaurant (which was very tasty) and then back home to bed.

Yesterday was another early start, as we hopped on a 8am bus to Oruro, where we would catch a 3:30pm train to Uyuni. We needed to be in Oruro by 12pm to pick up our tickets, and according to our Lonely Planet guide, the trip would take us three hours, leaving us with plenty of time. Unfortunately, this was a local's bus, so had to make its was up the valley in rush hour traffic to La Alta (the flat plains of La Paz above the valley where the city originally began), through impossibly small streets to try and find more passengers to fill the bus. Had we been on a tourist bus, it would have been a direct shot straight down to Oruro. We had hardly made it out of La Paz by 10am, leaving us wondering whether we would make it in time, but thankfully, even though we made it to the train station by 12:30, our tickets were still there and we were able to board our train.

The ride took us through some incredible desert scenery and past one of the most beautiful sunsets we had ever experienced, for 7 hours until Uyuni, the starting point for most tours into the Salar De Uyuni, a vast salt desert 3800m above sea level that has lots of geothermal activity, huge volcanoes around it and unique towns created out of the salt. We ran into the Irish couple from the Indian restaurant again on the train, who ended up staying in the same hostel as us.

Today has been spent shopping around for a decent tour company, as many are supposed to be quite shocking with reports of drunk or stoned drivers, exploitative actions towards many of the Salar's natives and disregard for the environmental impacts they have on the desert. We settled on a company who will take us on a three day tour starting tomorrow, the Irish couple Aaron and Aoife are doing it with us too, then afterwards we will take another train to the Bolivian border town of Villazon, cross the border into Argentina and make our way down to Buenos Aires, where we will fly out of in two weeks.

It's hard to believe that our time here is almost up, but I'm going to make sure that I pack as much into those two weeks as I can. Though it will be sad to leave South America, I have been really looking forward to South Africa and the UK, so I don't think I will be getting any post-holiday blues for a while!

Mike.