Oh yah I decided to go skiing yah

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Ey up Gringos



We are sat in a courtyard of our new hostel in Cochabamba in Bolivia, enjoying our second breakfast of the day whilst listening to ‘Now Thats What I Call Power Ballards’. Judith is reading her second book of the trip. The book I brought is still unopened in my rucksack. Even though I don’t read I thought I’d bring the thickest book I could find just to carry it about for a year for a laugh. The copies of Viz and Total Film I brought are pretty well thumbed by now though, so I should probably learn to read and start my book.



We arrived this morning at 6am after a surprisingly pleasant 9 hour bus journey from Potosi, Bolivia. Despite the comfort of the bus journey and the classy dubbed film (XXX The Next Level starring Ice Cube), we were unfortunately sharing the bus with a group of about 20 excitable Bolivian teenagers who’s just won some kind of competition which meant that they were bouncing off the walls wooping and the like. As I’m quite a tolerant person I just sat back, relaxed and pondered about how many of them I could tiger uppercut before the driver stopped the bus and called the cops. Lucky for them I fell asleep.



And I…. will always love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…………………



Sorry just getting taken away with the music there. I did my last entry when we were on a death defying bus leaving El Chalten in Argentina. I think I tempted fate a little as just as I’d finished writing it started to snow, really REALLY heavily. What made matters worse was not the lack of street lights or the fact that you couldn’t see 2 metres in front of the bus, it was that the inside of the driver’s window was so steamed up that you could literally see nothing. So to resolve the issue I offered my scarf to a member of the public so he could wipe the inside of the window whilst the driver was still doing about 50mph. Clearly I wasn’t going to do it, who do these people think I am? Thankfully we arrived home safe. I think the term ‘Hero’ is banded around too often these days but on that day I think we all knew who the real hero was. I’m talking about me.



Lady in reeeeeeeed, is dancing with me. This CD gets better, or it could be a tape as we are in Bolivia.



We stopped one more night back in El Calafate before picking up a monster bus journey of 28hrs up to a place called Barlioche (still Argentina – I’ll tell you when we get to Bolivia). We had an interesting meal on the bus which was like a swiss roll but instead of the cream stuff it was tuna. We watched so many films including Paranormal Activity with no sound at 10am and Saw 4 at about 2pm which they unfortunately turned off as it wasn’t violent enough. Bariolche was great. We had both picked up a cold though (mine was worse than Judith’s) so we just spent a day or so just drinking and eating chocolate in the alpine esq surroundings. We got a day skiing in which was unexpected. We were hoping to hire some all in one 80’s ski jump suits but unfortunately they only had modern fashionable ski wear. I think my boots were too tight as for some reason I had (and still have) a bald patch on each shin after skiing. The hostel was great apart from some of the skiing ra’s. “Oh yah I decided to go skiing yah to Argentina on my gap year between University yah and my Daddy getting me a job in the City yah!” We went out for a few beers one night (believe it or not for the first time on the trip). We had two surprises, one the beer was nice and two we met a nice Australian couple who weren’t complete morons. However his parents were Argentinean and hers were Thai and not, you know, prisoners. We love the auzzies really...



We left Bariloche as my levels of tolerance with the posho’s was wearing thin. We took a bus to Mendoza (18hrs) to get some sun which was well deserved I think you’d agree. The first thing we noticed about Mendoza was the lack of dog muck, people actually pick it up, using a bag too. The city was really calm and the region is famous for its wine. So we had to help the local economy out and go on a wine tour. We thought it would be a bit like driving round Provence with green countryside and vineyards set against rolling hills. It was more like driving round the Euroway Trading Estate in Bradford. There’d be a motorway, a transport depot then a vineyard, then we’d drive another 10 miles and there’d be another one next to a scrap yard. All that said once you were in the vineyard you couldn’t tell and the wine was superb. So we obviously bought a couple of bottles, just to help the local economy.



Look into my eyes you will see what you mean to me. Search your heart, search your soul you’ll find me there you’ll search no more…………….I know its true everything I do, I do it for you.



We left Mendoza and headed north to Salta for a few nights. Salta is famous for its beautifully preserved Colonial buildings and indigenous population. We arrived at the end of a 2 week festival and were greeted by I think every Argentinean in the region. We celebrated with some ‘street food’ (as the travel community call it to make them sound like they know what they’re talking about). We hadn’t really seen any decent street grub since leaving Buenos Aires so we (me) basically ate loads like big fat pigs (pig). We only stayed in Salta for a few days, not really doing much other than taking it all in. I did kick off to the night porter one night at 4am whilst he was chatting up a Canadian girl outside our room and we got upgraded – no bunk beds for us!! I have kipped in more bunk beds on this trip than when I was a child. I’m a fully grown man for flip sake. I insist on getting the top bunk (natural hierarchy) which means Judith spends the whole night cowering below listening to the bed creak under the weight of her 15 and a half stone husband.



We left Salta to head to Bolivia but decided to stay one night in a place called Quiaca on the Argi side of the border. We arrived a bit late (about midnight) without any accommodation which was a bit daft. We got chatting to a German couple on the bus (they looked nice – the sort that wouldn’t want to peel our skin off with a potato peeler) whom with we shared a taxi to their hostel and got a room for the night (separate from the Germans – just in case of the potato peeler thing). We didn’t realise but we had climbed in altitude to get here so the air was so thin you could barely walk 10 metres without being knackered or maybe that was down to my general poor levels of fitness. Quiaca looked a bit like Mos Eisley Spaceport off Star Wars so we didn’t stick about and we crossed the border into Bolivia on foot the next morning. The border crossing was easy, with no problems so we headed off to pick up what turned out to be the second to worst bus ride we have taken to date on this trip. The top rated death bus was the one which took us from Uyuni to Potosi which I haven’t told you about yet.



We were sad to leave Argentina after about 5 weeks of travelling (holiday) but were also ready to leave just really because we had heard enough Argentinean Reggae. I don’t know what it is but there’s something sinister about it. If I could summarise Argentineans in one sentence I’d say they were polite, gentile, like spitting, have a diet ratio of 85%!b(MISSING)eef to 15%!e(MISSING)verything else and are better at queuing than British people.



I’m getting a bit tired now so I’m going to leave it at that as I don’t do this much typing at work and I’m hungry again and need a cup of tea. So I’ll do another entry another time about the last week in Bolivia as there’s too much to write about, basically because it is mental.



Near far wherever you are I believe that my heart will go on………………



See you in a bit



Love



Stephen (Hero) and Judith



More photos here



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Photos

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our Judith the ski extrodinaire

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lago de summat or other in Bariloche

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mendoza

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yiiiiiiissssss wine

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the main square in mendoza

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back on the crazy juice

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mmmm 'street food'

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back on the beers

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skiing yey

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me the worst skier on the planet

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whoopee bus bingo

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house!

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Oh no I spilt me hot chocolate

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I always take me wife to the nicest spots

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rocking the rucksack on the front rucksack on the back look

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glug glug