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Published: September 5th 2007
The Road of Death
A whole lot of drop!Starting with a considerable amount of down...
Road of death It would be hard for people to visit La Paz and not at least contemplate traversing the 'road of death' on a mountain bike (run a google search, there are some horrific photo's to be found... Here's one report...
BBC Report ). Given that the email pictures Cath received of this road prior to our travels nearly scuppered plans for any Andean bus journeys, we had to at least take a look.
It all came down to 2 companies, and we went with Downhill Madness due to the fact that their price included everything, including a full face helmet that made us both look like really hard mountain bikers. We arrived bright and early at the offices (along with the 25 other travellers that made up our intimate group for the day). They wasted no time in getting us kitted up with said helmets, protective clothing and gloves.
The journey to the start point took about 45 minutes, once there we tested out our bikes (yep, we both remembered how not to fall off) and set off on the first downhill part. The Road of Death is 64km long,
Full Metal Cath - Road of Death
Cath looking well hard during the brief. running between La Paz and Coroico. The initial section is paved road and brilliant fun. Quite wide, you don't feel in danger of falling and can coast along enjoying the view and that special thrill that comes from racing downhill and feeling that you could be going just that little bit too fast, and if you hit the ground it might really hurt...
Feeling very professional (and a little chilly) we pulled into stop at the start of the 'Road of Death' proper. Things had changed a little in the past 8 months and following the opening of a new road the previous November (a much safer and wider paved road leading between La Paz and Coroico) 95% of the traffic had been removed from the road we would be cycling. This meant safer cycling in one regard, but also meant there would be no obstacles to our speeding downhill. Given that the annual death toll (prior to the opening of the new road) was 1 cyclist for every 200 vehicle passengers, statistically we felt a little safer.
Our main guide, Aaron, was a nutter, but nonetheless was very safety focused (if you discount the speeding down an
Breakfast with a view - Coroico (Bolivia)
With this view we found it hard to leave. unsafe road thing which he does as his job at least 5 times a week). We set off for the final and longest part of the day, Rob in the first and fastest group, Cath two groups back enjoying a slightly slower pace. It was a brilliant adventure! Not as scary as the google searches would have you believe; we sped downhill along this thin dirt road, pausing occassionally to take photo's off the cliff edges (anywhere between 100 - 400m drops).
Feeling like total professionals we took bumps in our stride, navigated corners at speed (Rob obviously at a much higher speed than Cath because she's a big wuss), ate lots of dust, admired the views, got to know our fellow bikers, took in interesting information about the road from the guides and generally had a great time. Things ended at the bottom of the road (obviously) where beers could be bought, dirty faces admired, and tales exchanged. Loads of food provided and everything was explained as we went along, so we never felt unsure or neglected. Definitely an experience we'd recommend!
Coroico We were lucky enough to get accomodation at Hotel Esmeralda, coincidently the place
Not the official Road of Death - Bolivia
One road, one vehicle, one huge drop! The road from Coroico to Rurrenebaque was as treacherous as the one we had cycled down. Why did no one tell us!!!! where our Road of Death trip ended with a buffet lunch. The hotel had amazing views out over the valleys and mountains (being halfway up a mountain itself). We got 'stuck' here for 3 days because it was so unassuming, relaxing and beautiful. It also helped that the hotel had both a pool and a sauna, along with great lunch and dinner buffets every day. It provided us with a great opportunity to let our brains do nothing at all.
We didn't leave the hotel in 3 days, excpet to face the challenge of booking our tickets out of there. More difficult than we anticipated given that, unusually, you couldn't book bus tickets from the bus station and had to locate a local vendor near the main plaza (who then ripped us off). Hmmmm...
Rurre We didn't expect the terror that came with our bus journey to Rurrenabaque. Feeling that we'd paid our dues with the narrow roads / sheer drops off into nothing during our road of death experience, we were unprepared for more of the same when we left Corroico. We had been lulled into a false sense of security as we waited on the
main road to catch our bus (2 hours late) because all we could see off into the distance (admitedly towards La Paz) was paved road.
The bus journey was a nightmare. It was exactly the same as the road of death, a narrow dirt road, barely big enough for one vehicle with 100 - 400m drops off the side. Cath rapidly valiumed herself up to the eyeballs and bravely refused to get off the bus despite gallant offers from Rob to do so and find another way to get there. We both assumed the brace position, although once the masses of valium took hold Cath succummed to a morbid facination to peer out the windows and take photo's of the drops, despite Rob urging her not to look. Thankfully we slept after about 6 hours of fear and awakened safely in Rurre.
Cath point blank refused to take the bus back up that road (especially after seeing the photo's from some German travellers who arrived 4 hours after us. Their rear bus wheel blew out as they descended. Not the tyre, instead the metal centre simply sheered off...), so one of our first acts in Rurre was to
Coca leaves - Madidi National Park (Bolivia)
The brown bark is to sweeten the taste and the white powder is bi-carbonate of soda which acts as a catylist to release the plants alkaloids. Useful for everything from hunger to altitude sickness, chewing coca leaves is as part of the Bolivian culture as tea is to England. book a plane back to La Paz (some may call this just as risky an option!). Our transport getaway secured the next step was to find a jungle tour to do. Most people arriving in Rurre go on a Pampas tour, followed by a shorter jungle tour, however we'd done something very similar to the Pampas tour whilst in Brazil. Instead we looked about for a jungle tour with a difference, and found something that looked promising with Bolivia Mystica. Rather than simply wandering about in the jungle, this 3 day 3 night tour promised rappelling down cliffs, waterfall walks, campfire cooking, and also a couple of lengthy rainforest walks to boot.
After booking we had the good fortune to run into our Israeli travelling friends from the salt flat tour, Amir and Yair. In true form they were organising a pool party that night and we agreed to go, along with the German travellers whose tyre had shredded, we think they were in need of a very strong drink. Those could be found aplenty, especially after Rob purchased a bottle of Pisco for us to mix with Sprite. One surreal party experience later, views of Rurre from a
very posh house, Israeli dance music, and a weird selection of insects attracted to the lighting over the bar, we crashed at about 3am.
A hangover is of course pefect preparation for any form of physical exercise, so we were well prepared for our 2.5 hour trek uphill to our jungle camp the next morning. The guide we had, Diego, was just brilliant, very chilled out and really enthusiastic about what he did. The company however was still undergoing teething issues, we were only the 11th group to head out into the jungle so the tours were still in the development stage. We shared our camp with 'group' number ten, a fun Irish girl called Alva.
We still had a brilliant time, spent several hours walking to (and up) two different waterfalls and participated in the obligatory jumping off. The rappelling off a 100m high cliff was fun but nervewracking. Rob did very well and looked like he should be living in the harness (despite the discomfort) but Cath spun out of control into a tree, adding yet more scratches and bruises to her growing collection. The trails we hiked were still fairly new, allowing Cath ample opportunity
Catapilar and ant - Madidi National Park (Bolivia)
Yes, it looks cute. Like the colour red, cute is natures defense. Those hairs are very painful! to attack plants with a machete, freaking Rob our a little in the process.
Our trip was meant to finish with the company's main tour - the canopy / zip lines experience, however this was 'closed'. The 'official' reason we were given was that a tree had fallen on one of the zip lines, however the true reason we got from our guide was that the company was having a dispute with the local community whose land the zip lines are built on, and nothing could be done until the boss flew in to sort things out.
Miracle of miracles, our flight back up to La Paz was fine, not bumpy at all despite the pictures we've posted here. The airport and equipment were rather entertaining though. We spent a final night in La Paz, in a MUCH better hotel. The room boasted a beautiful bed (especially after 3 nights sleeping in a hammock (Cath) or on the wooden floor (Rob)), and an unexpected bonus in the form of a tv! We watched tv programmes for the first time in well over 2 months - episodes of CSI, ER and changing rooms coming our way, and in English!
Fire extinguisher - Rurrenabaque (Bolivia)
This antique contraption was proudly on display at Rurrenabaque airport. Obviously aimed at installing confidence in would-be flyers! Copacabana The next day saw us arrive in Copacabana (and yes, we couldn't stop singing the song the whole time we were here). Still at altitude we spent a relaxed day looking around town and being very amused by the blessing of the cars ceremony. Basically locals from all over Bolivia and Peru come to have their cars, lorries, buses, tuk tuk's etc... blessed by the local priests. The vehicles are decorated with great care and pride, then they often tip beer all over the car and each other as an offering. We made ourselves popular by offering to take photo's of owners and their families. The church in Copacabana, outside which this ceremony takes place, is stunning, and round the back you can enter a small, dark walled, thin, candle filled, local prayer area where locals make their wishes known by drawing their desires on the walls in wax.
Cath sampled the local speciality, trout (from the lake), in the market, following some very welcome assistance from a couple who were visiting the town with their car. We climbed the hills on both sides of town and got some amazing views, assisted by the still glorious
Our plane out - Rurrenabaque (Bolivia)
Almost the smallest commercial airliner in the world. Faced with 45 minutes in this of 15 hours along the road of death, the choice was hard. weather. After finding possibly the best pizza restaurant in Bolivia our love affair with Copacabana was cemented for all time when it managed a miracle and procured the final Harry Potter book for Cath.
Long a fan of the series she had resigned herself to simply having to wait until she returned to the UK before finding out what happened. Imagine the shock when we went up to pay for our time in an intenet cafe and the book was simply sitting there on the counter. Nonchalently Cath enquired why the book was there, apparently it was part of their book swapping service. Ordering Rob to sit on the book, and fight to the death with other people if necessary, Cath legged it back to the hostel to grab another book to swap, no mean feat to run 2km at altitude! Success, and one very happy Cath followed. Just a pity it's a massive, heavy hardback!
Isla del Sol Our final adventure in Bolivia saw us walk to Isla del Sol, site of the Incan creation legend. All went well for the first 10km, but Rob's ankle was suffering after 4 hours of river bed walking on
Our plane out II - somewhere over Bolivia
As you can see, we thoroughly enjoyed the flight. The German travellers have joined us here rather than face another wheel sheering off their transport! stones during our earlier stop in Rurre. After 15km our prayers were answered when we were approached by a young chancer who offered to row us to the island for a very reasonable price. Naturally we accepted.
One thing that hadn't been made clear was that (despite the help of said chancers younger brother) we would need to help row if we wanted to make it there before dark. Despite the picture it was actually Rob who did most of the assisting, leaving Cath to admire the slowly passing views. Once at the island we stopped off at a small Incan site at the bottom of the island before setting off towards a hostel halfway up the right hand (east) side.
The island was beautiful, and despite every child we met wanting us to take a photo of them (occassionally holding various animals) and then give them money for the privilege the locals were really friendly. This was assisted by the fact that Rob was wearing his Bolivar cap, a local Bolivian football team who have quite a following. We passed at least 5 locals all wearing similar caps so it proved quite a conversation starter. Everyone was
Rob and Cath, Copacabana - Bolivia
View of Copacabana nestled on the edge of Lake Titicaca. happy to give us directions to the 'amarillo' (yellow) hostel.
Our hostel was very pretty (although with a strangely lumpy and hard bed) and our hosts cooked us up a lovely dinner and breakfast. We were amused the whole time we were on the island by the HUGE numbers of donkeys we saw, all of them interested in talking to others by braying. Neither of us had heard a donkey bray in years, so got a lot of mileage out of it.
The next day we made it to the 'top' of the island (north) and visited the sacred / creation rock, the ceremonial / sacrificial stone, and the largest ruins on the island. As we needed to catch the last ferry back to Copacabana we set ourselves the task of walking the path that ran down the middle of the island to the south, affording us some spectacular views. Made it in time to see the Incan stairs (hard not to as we walked down them) and then relaxed our tired legs on the hour long journey home.
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John Zablocki
non-member comment
Shithead!
I love yall's blog. I'm heading off to Bermuda tomorrow for "work". Keep em coming.