Berlingo packed, we headed off on stage 1. We'd spent a bit of time planning where to go with a variety of maps and guide books and had decided to head for Daroca. A small heritage listed town in the hills, it was supposed to a bit off the tourist trail, but excellent and worth a visit. This road seemed great, at least until we noticed that we were heading straight towards a huge fire. Soon enough, a policeman waved us down and informed us the road was closed. No problem, we thought, as we tried out the 'avoid roadblock' function on the TomTom. After it had taken us down a few actual goat tracks and up a couple of driveways trying to get us to Daroca we gave up on it, and changed our destination. ... read more

We packed our bags with concern that morning. We had added a fair bit of camping gear to our load, and it was a worry for people used to carrying their stuff on their backs. We would be staying with Simon and Tracey (friends of ours from Australia) for a few days in London, so it was easier to drive our stuff back there, drop the car off at Heathrow, then catch a train back. I was only a little sad dropping off the Kia – we really hadn't had a chance to get to know each other. It hadn't been a bad little car, but definitely not one I would choose for myself. Happily, the rental car bloke at the airport didn't pick up the scratches I had added to the wheels - probably because ... read more

We gave ourselves plenty of time to get to the airport, and our traffic fears were well founded. The airport was reasonable. A bit of construction happening to get ready for 2014, but other wise it was as airports are. We waited, we ate, we looked at stuff, we got on a 747. The flight was okay if shorter than we thought. We were too busy playing with the entertainment system to listen to the pilot rabbiting on and missed his talk about flight time. No worries – it was on the screen – 14 hours. Sweet. That means I can watch X amount of movies and sleep for Y. Only the clock on the screen was wrong – it was only 10 hours. Landing at Heathrow with 4 hours sleep wasn't part of the plan. ... read more

The constitutional capital of Bolivia. Sucre. Another night bus from La Paz. Not the worst, though it could have been better. It was full of miners, all of whom had picked the aisle seats, meaning everyone else had to make do with sitting by themselves. The bloke next to me went to sleep almost immediately – he'd done this before. The bloke next to Klaire fiddled with his phone for a bit, then crashed. The older travellers had managed to score seats together – mum just played the Nintendo while dad slept. The kid behind Klaire, however, didn't sleep. He just kicked her chair. A lot. Only a short walk to the hostel, where, strangely, it was cheaper to pay up front than the customary next morning. Checked in, we wandered out to see what we ... read more

Then it was time to head to La Paz. We'd been there before, on our last trip, and loved it. There was was that trepidation – would it live up to our memories? The Potosí bus station was interesting. Recently finished, it looked like a big mosque, with a huge blue dome covering the top, lacking only a minaret. And it was cold – colder than it had any right to be. We got some short relief while we had a feed at the strangely placed restaurant, raised high on a platform in the middle, but it was short lived. We returned to the bottom floor to huddle with our backpacks. Plenty of entertainment though, on the bottom floor. I have never in my life seen so many kids getting so much enjoyment from a fibreglass ... read more