The Old Man and the Sea

The cigar-shaped totora boats called 'caballitos de tora' (little horses) fascinated me. They have been used as rafts by the fishermen on this coastline for the past 3000 years.

Huanchaco was exactly what we needed. A break by the sea - rain or shine. We were booked in to a hotel that we could afford called the Naylamp in room #26, which was the only one afforded an ocean view, and this suited us just fine.

The tone of modern-day Huanchaco was set when we went for a cheeseburger in a surfer's burger shack that literally was out of a garage facing the beach. Huanchaco today has a unique vibe. While still famous for it's fishermen and seafood, surfers from around the world now come to this coast to chase some the longest breaks on the planet.

This coast was once known worldwide for its famous deep-sea fishermen and the "Humboldt Current" of the tropical waters that run right up to Ecuador. The marine ecosystem was ideal for reproduction of some very large fish in indeed including marlins, swordfis and tuna.

During the 1950s big game fishing was the rage and nowhere was it bigger than here in Peru.

The hotel resorts and fishing clubs attracted Hollywood guests like John Wayne, Marilyn Monroe, James Stewart and Gregory Peck.

Dozens of records were broken during that ten-year span, several which stand today including the biggest record of them all. In 1953, a Texas oilman called Alfred Glassell pulled in a 14 and a half foot, 1,560 pound black marlin - the largest bony fish ever caught by rod and reel.

Our week-long escape was relaxing mostly thanks to the perfect retreat at Hostal Naylamp at the end of the beach.

It was further up the coast from here at another fishing village that Ernest Hemingway based himself during the filming of The Old Man and the Sea to help the Warner Brothers film crew. Hemingway spent long and successful fishing days and managed to capture over a dozen huge black marlin that were captured by the Warner Brothers crew for the film. His largest catch was a whopping 910 pound marlin. In true form, on most days he spent the rest of his time at the local beach cafe where locals this day still remember the "Whiskey Gringo". He wrote letters to Marlene Deitrich, bonded with reporters and made great friends like the barman Paul Cordova who still remembers "Don Ernesto" from the small bar in what has now become a forgotten old ghost town.

Point Break > The point of our journey north was some relaxation while in search for sun, sand and some of the world's most recent archeological discoveries.

A Day Fishing with Ernest Hemingway

The days became routine in Cabo Blanco. Ernest Hemingway got up at dawn with a breakfast consisting of two boiled eggs, toast with butter and lots of coffee. At 8am we embarked. Along with our fishing gear was always a bottle of whiskey or gin. The day was invariably ten hours at sea, and at dusk, everyone met in the hotel to start the evening of chat and conversation. Hearty salads on the table and a culinary delicacy dazzled Mary Welsh, especially the famous lomo saltado. It is a typical Peruvian dish made of beef sirloin, cut into pieces and sautéed to skillet with onions and tomatoes, served with white rice. Hemingway's wife requested the recipe be carefully noted in his diary. Those nights of bohemia invariably ended at 10pm with several empty bottles of Scotch. "Don Ernesto" then took his stool near Paul Cordova, the beloved bartender, while the others went to their rooms to retire.

Lomo Saltado - a staple in all restaurants cheap and upscale - sliced fried beef strips, mixed with onions, chili, tomato and potato chips served with a side of rice.

Unfortunately the weather during our week was more conducive to writing than fair-weather fishing or beach bumming. We too took this opportunity to sit, read and write while overlooking a cold and rainy sea. I loved watching how the surfers would share the tides with fishermen. The first surfboard, according to a local museum, drew inspiration from the caballitos boats which are more of of a kayak-surfboard hybrid really. Yet these fishermen still glide past gringo surfers on their modern-day waxed down boards.

Today the marlin have all vanished from overfishing. All that remain are memories haunting the sea and shoreline. The shopping malls outside Trujillo and the airport are creeping closer to Huanchaco beach. But all in all, life goes on slowly and peacefully in this part of Peru. I couldn't help wondering if

these traditional fishermen in their little horse boats would be around a thousand years more.

Huacas del Sol y Luna

DISCLAIMER: This is possibly the weirdest blog I've written: we reached the end of our trip a whole month ago now and are well and truly returning to the real world, albeit slowly. We've spent time with family and friends in Manchester, Paris (for Chris) and finally Copenhagen but we're determined to immortalise every last day of our trip so here goes our attempt to reminisce about our last few weeks of the adventure... (Luckily we had written some notes along the way that have helped us remember).

Chris > Up we drove along the Pan American highway skirting along cliffs where the desert meets the sea. It was one of the most scenic drives and we were even lucky enough to be taking it in from the "panoramico seats" at the front of the top deck - definitely the ones to request during a day time journey.

We had just finished our gruelling trip down and up the worlds' deepest canyon... Chris and I were now about to focus our attention on those tribes and cultures that came before the short lived Inca Empire which most people (including me) can't believe only lasted for about a century in total. Chris and I forgot to even mention this but the Incas were just a small tribe who ruled the valley of Cusco until 1438 when they began a rapid military expansion in every direction. They certainly conquered cultures from central Chile all the way up to Southern Columbia but of course their reign over this vast empire was cut short by the arrival and invasion of the Spanish in the early 1500s. Neither of us had known before that such a world famous and vast Empire as the Incas' had been so shortlived. There was thus an awful lot of history before this and we set out to explore Peru's Northern coast, beginning with the Moche Culture.

Past ranches we then drove through and through sugar ane country, all the way up to northern Peru's City of the Eternal Spring. Trujillo was Peru's first independent city. I can't say that we were appreciating thecolonial buildings with ornate wrought-iron window grates, while searching for bed at midnight after nearly 30 hours of bus travel from Arequipa.

An awfully expensive Cruz-del-Sur bus took us overnight from Arequipa up to Lima where we changed buses and continued on up to Trujillo, an additional nine hour journey. This was a lot of travel all at once but we were keen to get it out of the way and not waste one day - we hoped to spend a week in the sun at the beach in Huanchaco.

From Trujillo we visited the Temples of the Sun and Moon, incredible pyramids built in the sandy desert centuries ago. We took a collectivo out there and as Chris said, 'It's guaranteed entertainment when you take one of these'. We took many collectivos that week, with the drivers yelling Huanchaco-huanchaco-huanchaco!

This time, there were two and a half men in charge of the little mini-bus (one man had his young son helping him). After a bumpy ride out to the 'Huacas' (temples), we were greeted by the obligatory hair-less dog, the case with all ancient sites in Peru. The first time I saw one of these I had thought it was a statue. These crazy dogs literally are, well, hairless! Stroking them, their skin feels like I would expect a rhino's to feel.

The hairless dog's body temperature is a steady 47 degrees while it's skin feels like a rhinoceros. This version of man's best friend is believed in Peru to be a healing dog whose touch can help cure most ailments.

The Moche region, home to so many archeological sites from the Moche culture, is dominated by deserts and the coastlines of the North Coast. Between the first and seventh centuries AD, this 600KM stretch of desert was full of solid, social structures - there were around 600 000 people in the Moche Empire. The usual thing in Peru is to have a guide to show you around a museum or site; it was the same this time and we were again lucky enough to have our own personal guide. There are two huge, majestic monuments: one political (Temple of the Sun, 35m high and currently un-excavated) and one religious (Temple of the Moon, 25m high) and in between, you can see where the archaologists have begun to excavate the town that lay there. It's absolutely amazing. Walking around the Temple of the Moon, you really can't believe how it's maintained such good condition. Each different 'platform' or layer of the pyramid took a number of centuries to build and completely covered the last one, hence why the artwork underneath each new layer has retained it's vibrancy and colour.

Workers made personal etchings of their family symbol in bricks so they could be sure to be paid for each one they made.

The freizes depict Gods and the lifestyle of the time.

The colours on the artwork are original from 100AD.

Trekking the world's deepest Canyon...

Our last and final 'package tour' of the trip was to be a three day trek down the world's deepest canyon. And up again. As has been the case in Bolivia before with our two day Salt Flats tour and three day Pampas adventure, we were to get our money's worth here in Peru. We'd met an amazing girl called Karla in Aguas Caliente one evening who was actually from Arequipa. When she heard we planned to visit her home city she revealed how homesick she was (she had moved to A.C for a few months to help some family friends with their restaurant) and spent over an hour with us planning our trip there and recommended her friend's tour company: PeruShweiz. We headed there straight away on arrival in Arequipa and were impressed immediately. For once we didn't have to spend hours upon hours comparing the different companies. For 35 pounds each our trip was to include transport, a guide, two night's accomodation (including one night in an isolated village with a local family) and meals. Oh, an walking sticks for the challenging trek ahead.

As always with these tours, we couldn't just get on with it immediately and start with the trekking. We first had a 3am pick up from our hotel followed by a five hour drive (the highest point reached 4910m above sea level) to see the Flight of the Condors (no, not conchords). We were taken to a viewpoint over the canyon for not only stunning views but also a bit of condor spotting. I think we saw one in the distance once, I think. The condor is the second largest bird in the world after the albatross according to our guide so they shouldn't have been that difficult to spot.Our guide explained however that there were less and less condors these days due to pollution in the river below.

It was then on to the village - Cabanaconda - from where we were to begin our trek and we were pleased to find out we had a little 'free time' before our incredibly early 11am two course lunch. Chris and I had a great time because, in typical Peru form, the villagers seemed to be having parties left, right and centre. We followed one band down a small residential alley and found they were celebrating a wedding. Of course they invited us in but alas, our 'free time' had almost run out and we had to head for lunch. Yet another example of Peruvian gaiety and celebration - they seem never to stop! I cannot get over the friendliness of the people in Peru and also how much attention is spent on celebrations.

The women here have a different 'costume' to those we came across in the Andes and Peru. Here, the patterning on their skirts and waistcoats was incredibly intricate (all made by hand of course) and their matching hats were of a different shape too.

After lunch it was finally time to begin the trek, but only after watching a few more groups of locals dancing and singing their way around town in a Catholic celebration for the Virgin del Carmen. School children also paraded around with candles while the priest shouted (indoctrinating...) Catholic lines out which they responded to. Cool. Or something.

We were in a group with two French couples enjoying their three week summer holidays and a 19 year old American student called Chris. Our guide Angel took good care of us and immediately explained the huge piles of rocks on the track to the canyon. People are so connected to nature here and respect Mother Earth an awful lot - we've seen before people pour water onto the ground before drinking it (or in the case of our Death Road driver, highly potent alcohol) to thank the earth for providing it and give a little back. The mounds of rocks we now saw, the Apachata, were in order to give thanks and pay respect to the mountains and the mountain gods - everyone who passes normally adds a stone to the mound. After an ''Ok Chicos! Vamos!'' from Angel, we were off.

Chris:

A few facts...

1) At 4150m deep, this is the deepest canyon in the world. Apparently the US's Grand Canyon is the third.
2) The Colca river is named after food storage houses
3) Today's descent was going to be 1001 metres!

Of course, I'd brought along every item of winter clothing I owned and thus had two extremely heavy and full bags. Idiot. Why did I do this? Because I was so sick of going on three day tours and freezing to death - from the Salt Flats where we'd been promised a heated room to the Pampas where we'd been promised 30 degrees and sun, we hadn't had much luck! So this time, I wasn't taking any chances and brought everything. And of course, needed NOTHING. It proved incredibly hot for the duration and the only thing I succeeded in was breaking both mine and Chris' backs. How clever.

Chris:

We learned three tips to trekking:
1) Going downhill for long periods is actually more exhausting
2) 3-4 minute breaks are maximum efficiency, otherwise there's no way you're standing up again
3) Light snacks like Oreos or Ritz are a necessity

Chris is absolutely right. We trekked for around three and a half hours downhill to begin our trek which may sound easy but trust me... when you're fighting with tiny gravel stones that slip under your feet when it's really steep, and huge rocks that sometimes roll down the canyon if you touch them, there are way more challenges to consider than your fitness or the firmness of your thighs. I am a terrible down-hiller and really, this proved to be the most challenging part of our two days hiking. The local women of course complete this 'walk' in their sandals (which we later found out are recycled from car tyres giving them a long-lasting sole!) and with huge sacks on their backs.

We were also shoved to the side a few times by the donkeys and mules making the trip to the villages with necessities such as beds and mattresses. Amazing. The villages we were heading for had no road access so the only way to get vital items to them was using mules. We later asked Angel about education and healthcare and he explained that when they reach secondary level, the children have to go to live in Cabanaconda with friends or relatives in order to attend school. For primary they have to walk for a few hours with their parents to reach the nearest one. Once finally at the bottom I was so pleased to learn that we had arrived only 5-10 minutes later than the others - I'd been convinced they'd been waiting for about half an hour. Very pleased and proud if I'm honest!

Chris: We were destroyed by the long descent to the canyon's river. Our guide was extremely supportive but did admit we were on the slow side. Our overpacking had taken it's toll on the shoulders. Steph was also not liking the loose rubble walking downhill one bit.

The trek didn't end here though. We now had to head up again! And through a few villages before finally reaching our accommodation for the evening in Cosnirhua village which proved very comfortable. We were lucky enough to enjoy a hot shower (water heated by the sun) before a dinner of extremely traditional Peruvian food cooked by Angel and the mum at the house. We tried a fried ball of mash potato filled with cheese - amazing! Exhausted, we all headed to bed right after dinner and were all asleep by around 9pm! (Our 3am start hadn't helped with our energy levels, I don't think).

The next morning we were introduced to the many many guinea pigs who live in the kitchen under the stove by the family's young son and enjoyed banana pancakes before our gruelling trek on day two. First, we stopped in the next village, Malata, where a lady explained many traditions and ways of life: we were shown how to grind corn into a floury substance, how to plough the ground and many other things. Then, it was all down hill again. Luckily it was only an hour and a half this time and the reward at the end was HUGE. A crazy oasis at the bottom of the canyon complete with swimming pools, a huge lunch of Spag bol and three hours of relaxation time.

Angel continued to point out interesting facts of nature such as this natural mosquito repellent. We rubbed potently-smelling leaves all over our arms in preparation for the mossies at the oasis.

The white blobs on the cacti are, weirdly, insects...

If you crush them, their blood proves to be a great dye for wool and other materials. Peruvians really use this natural resource for dying their wool - we'd had a demonstration of this process during our day on the 'Inka Express' some weeks before and were interested to learn where the insects came from.

Chris: Finally the oasis appeared between lush green canyon walls at the bottom with waterfalls. Soon we found ourselves swimming in pools and lazing in hammocks.

Eventually it was time to make the ascent back up again which we'd all been dreading. By this time, mine and Chris's backs had broken in two carrying all the winter clothes I'd brought so we shared a mule along with the French couple to carry our bags up. I know, soft aren't we?!

Chris: We decided over the Spag bol lunch to leave asap to get the dreaded hike over with so as to also arrive before dark. Half of us decided to go up carrying only liquids and transport our bags up by mule. The Parisian couple split the cost with us and let me tell you I'm glad we were in this half of the group. I think with back and shoulder pain from the day before this may have avoided a year of chiropractor therapy down the road. Young student Chris who ate a record amount of coca leaves in the morning sprang up the mountain and left us all behind in the dust. Marie and Dennis were ahead of us by a quarter of an hour.The climb was a true challenge except this time we actually enjoyed the spectacular 3hr hike and even completed in 2.5 hours!

We made it!

We had a lovely meal of llama steak waiting for us that evening and were incredibly pleased with our sparkly clean accommodation in a double ensuite room. We weren't used to such luxury. The next day we sat back in the mini-bus during the long drive back to Arequipa, stopping only at some hot springs for a beer and a dip plus an all-you-can-eat buffet on the way, the only things not included in the cost of the trip. What an exciting (and challenging) time we had - we really recommend our tour company if you're heading to Arequipa: PeruSchweiz.

Back over the border to Peru's 'White City': Arequipa

I was very excited to be returning to Peru. There's just so many things about this country that I love. Travellers we met in Bolivia kept asking me why I preferred Peru: I guess there's so much to compare the two countries really. In both, you'll drive through villages of dusty roads and adobe houses when you travel from city to city. Also in both, many of the people still dress traditionally and there's no doubting the friendliness of people in either country - the people in Peru and Bolivia are far more timid than those from Argentina that we met. And in both, the food you'll be served in restaurants will be very similar, the main focus being corn and potato-based soup to start followed most definitely by chicken. So what is it about Peru that makes me like it so much more?

Peru seems that much more colourful and lively to me, I suppose: there will always be people dancing or singing about something. Its tourist towns are quite evidently richer than Bolivia's and this obviously makes it a lot more comfortable to visit and, for me at least, makes you feel more at ease. In addition to this, Peru is just so rich in history amd has built much of its tourism industry on this. I couldn't wait to get stuck back into learning all about this.

In the space of just one day, we had travelled from La Paz over the border to Puno and then jumped straight on a bus to Arequipa - another 7 hour drive away - all with sore bottoms from our mountain biking adventures on Death Road the day before! By the time we finally arrived in Arequipa we were ready for a good meal (a box of Kraft's Macaroni 'n Cheese!) then bed.

The next morning we were excited to explore Peru's second largest city, also known as 'the White city'. Most people think this is due to the chalky-looking volcanic rock used for building called 'sillar' but our tour guide later insisted that it was in fact because so many Spanish people came to live here at the beginning of the conquest and it was in fact their non-indeginous, white skin that gave the city its nickname. Surely there would have been more in Lima though? Anyhow... Arequpia is surrounded by active volcanoes, salt lakes, thermal hot springs and the world's deepest canyons. Nearby is the best place to spot the huge Andean condors famous to South America. There are thus an awful lot of reasons why so many people visit this city and it really is magnificent with a main square to rival Cusco's, in my opinion. The cathedral here is special - it's the only one in Peru that stretches the length of the whole Plaza and one of less than 100 in the world to be allowed to have the Vatican flag on display. Cool. It was such a pleasure to be walking through cobble-stoned streets past squeaky clean, just-off-white-washed buildings after the grittiness of La Paz. Walking around was also similar to Bolivia's beautiful city of Sucre in many respects. Not to mention the glorious sunshine that shone non-stop like in both Cusco and Sucre. Apparently people in Arequipa are extremely proud to come from here and want to distinguish themselves from people who come from Lima so much that they even designed their own passport and flag quite recently! It's a political town and apparently the most right-wing in Peru.

Arequipa's beautiful Plaza de Armas

One night in Arequipa, Chris and I were walking home from a steak dinner and heard classical music playing in the square. We couldn't figure out where it came from but after we'd walked on for about 5 minutes we heard it again, following us. We both laughed when we realised that it was the bin men! Their big rubbish truck was playing lovely music at 9pm to let residents know they would collect their rubbish! Only in Peru...

Top on my list of sights to see here was the Monasterio de Santa Catalina which has one of the craziest stories I've ever heard. A rich widow founded it in 1580 and only allowed the extremely rich to become nuns here, those who brought the largest dowries. It was apparently the norm for the second son or daughter of Spanish families to join a monastery or convent in this period. At this particular convent however there was no such life of chaste poverty because all the nuns had their own personal slaves (up to four each and usually imported from Africa) and life must have been a huge party. An interesting tour led us around this city-within-a-city, through courtyards and passages lined with Magnolia trees while the guide showed us the different 'cells' belonging in the past to individual nuns. The cells were actually more like apartments or houses with separate kitchens and servants' rooms in each. One thing Chris and I remember from the tour is that the portraits of the nuns, now all in one long portrait room, only show the women when they are dead: vanity is a sin so they were only allowed to be painted after they'd passed away. Another crazy thing is that the nuns used to use their own hair to decorate the statues of Christ and the Virgin Mother so there are many statues with not only brown but also ginger and blonde real hair. Interesting.

The guide explained that because of the birght sun, the walls of all buildings in Arequipa used to be painted in this natural terracotta colour using dye from the rocks nearby. Because the buildings are all made of the white ´sillar´, the reflection was blinding otherwise. Nowadays, the buildings in the city all seem to be painted in an off-white colour despite what our guide said.

Interestingly, roofs were all rounded and every bed was under an arched-roof in a niche in the wall. Arched cielings are stronger than flat ones (I knew this obviously dad since you taught me all about Roman arches and key stones when I was about four, hehe) and if there's anywhere needing strengthened buildings it's here... Almost every century since the Spanish arrived in Arequipa in 1540, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions have made this city tremble. The city was destroyed in 1600 and had to be totaly rebuilt even though it was to rock again in the major quakes of 1687, 1868, 1958, 1960 and 2001. Peru's major cities have really been through some natural disasters making their current beauty even more impressive.

Water flowed through the convent in mini canals. Here, the water could be channeled into different ceramic pots for washing.

An end was only put to this life of fiestas and luxuries in 1871 when the Pope sent a strict nun over to sort them all out. For the next hundred years, the nuns lived a more conventional life and the dowries were sent back over to Europe. Some of the servants lived the rest of their lives there by converting to nuns. It must have been hard for the original rich nuns because they had to go from having their own chambers with servants to sharing a dorm room with new, young, poor girls who were now being allowed to enter the convent. Then, in 1970, the mayor of Arequipa forced the convent to open its doors to tourism in an attempt to modernise the place where the nuns lived a mysterious life, never leaving the walls of the convent. Our guide told us that there are still nuns living there, under 100 today, and they are still not allowed to leave the walls of the convent unless there is a medical emergency. They live in a separate section to that which the tourists visit and have no contact with the tourists as they are shy. Their days are spent praying, sowing and making other craft items as well as organising and administrating charities from inside the walls. The money from our expensive entry tickets (8 pounds each and not even any student discount!) pays for them to live and for their charity work. A lifestyle I can't even begin to comprehend.

The Death Road

A nice cycle rid through the countryside it was not. Kilometer 69 north of la Paz marks the beginning of the World's Most Dangerous Road - a treacherous winding road whose narrow dirt track hugs vertical cliffs. With an astonishing statistical record that has claimed three hundred lives per year, it is no wonder that the Inter-American Development Bank labelled this the "Death Road" in 1995. Today it was the mountain biking adventure of our lives.

Why exactly is this road considered the most dangerous? I once read an article written by my Paris buddy, neighbor, partner in crime and F1 journalist, Adam Hay-Nicholls.

Any seasoned traveler can attest that sometimes the worst places make for the best stories. The decision was clear, Mom. The worst regret of anyone's trip is never the places they went or time they wasted, but always what they could have done but never had the chance. I personally have a growing list of adventures we never did on our year-long trip (see below) and I was itching not to add another regret to the list of thrills we could have taken. While our friends Marc and Manna are off snacking on tarantulas, toasting Marc's survival from the Death Road, we are usually fussing over how clean or comfortable our hostel should be, if we owned it.

And where did I get the hairbrained idea to plunge down the the road of death on a bicycle? Our Parisian friend Marc and FIA communicator gave us a fantastic account of his descent. His and Manna's blog Bounding describes their trip around the world in the opposite direction, with some pretty big footsteps for us to follow.

It was fate really. My worst regret to date came from a pub quiz in adrenaline-obsessed New Zealand, you see, where I had won a bungee jump off Auckland harbor bridge but was never able to take the plunge. Therefore the cash prize from the Wild Rover pub was surely destined to be spent at the tour agency downstairs on their suicidal mountain bike ride (where "standard" suspension was advertised as a bargain). Through this justification I just decided the heck with it. Our new Irish friend Liam from the Amazon trip was also up to the challenge. To my shocking surprise so did Steph! And so the three of us signed up the night before our last day in Bolivia - dead or alive.

Praying to Pachamama

In a confusing series of errands we eventually picked up our guide who overslept by about an hour. He seemed a bit out of it until he stopped off for some red bull and a curious bottle of rubbing alcohol that he handed to the driver. He in turn poured some out the window and on to mother earth for good luck. I think we were going to need it. Let's just say that weather was not on our side that morning. La Paz's elevation was overshadowed by a sky of gloom. When I asked our guide if they ever cancelled a trip, he shook his head saying trips are never cancelled. "Even if it were to rain a cat and a dog, we would just have to bike slower". This particular freak cold front decided to worsen in the only way it could by a full-on snowstorm.

The road of death on a sunny day was for sissies. We were destined for the most sinister conditions Bolivia could throw at us. Up we drove through the unrelenting snow that was now blanketing the mountains.

Our date with the downhill circuit was 64k and would be take pretty much all day. Luckily the crew were professional and we were given quality mountain bikes with excellent suspension. A rickety bike is not what you want on this journey. All-kitted up, we were ready for an easy warm up circuit on a sealed road. This neither easy nor boring since our glasses were fogged, an rain was alreading starting to drip down our backs and straight into our butt cracks right down our legs. The excitement came when we drove through a random Bolivian festival on the mountain road. The villagers of the Yungas region were celebrating some sort of trout festival associated with the Virgen del Carmen. An odd choice for this altitude - but this is Bolivia!

At it's deadliest this narrow road between La Paz and Coroico has seen an average of 26 vehicles launch over its unguarded edges in one year. Luckily only 16 cyclists have gone over so far.

Liam, Steph and I may have been drenched through three layers of clothing and caked in mud, but afraid we were not.Nor were we distracted by sunny vistas. It's funny because we had met a kiwi cyclist/thrill-seeker who raved about the trip for it's stunning scenery. This was indeed the top reason we were able to justify paying 500 Bolivian Bolivianos for such an insane trip. Today you could not see past the edge edge of the cliff and the pea soup that masked the six to seven hundred meter drops straight down. This might have been a blessing in disguise since we couldn't exactly see how scared we should be (and how stupid we were).

The gravel surface was muddy, slippy and only 3.2 meters wide. What's more the clouds fogged up our glasses making them useless. Mud then spat in one eye very often, and sometimes both eyes, forcing me to make a few pit stops.

Jeremy Clarkson attempting the WMDR on Top Gear.

Having made it to the bottom via the preferable, gradual way, we could toast to our survival. It was funny to later read that our little bike ride was included in a new book 101 Places Not To See Before You Die, that lists some of the weirdest, most uncomfortable locations around the world. Not surprisingly we also managed to find others from this list along the way on our trip, including a disgusting underpass in Connaught Circle in Delhi. Even funnier was the Top Gear attempt at the WMDR.