four days in the most spectacular country in the world.

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Day one of the Uyuni Salt Flats tour. This tour is something you really need to do in this part of the world. We were introduced to Piter – the driver and guide, a young, quiet, Bolivian bloke. And Lucy – the cook, a loud, subversive and cheerful Bolivian lady. Backpacks tied securely on the top we headed into the desert in the Landcruiser (incidentally, a Landcruiser is not a jeep, FFS). Trying to follow the Spanish conversation sorely tested my skills, but I did okay. And it was lucky that we had Spanish as neither Lucy or Piter had any English at all.

Past Nazarene - a small mining town. And there was a lot of these towns. Gold, borax, copper, lithium – no shortage of minerals. But it's a tough life. Life expectancy there was short – mid forties at best.

We blew through Sillar – beautiful desert colours, incredible views, and, coming round the bend in the dust...llamas. Lots of Llamas, simply grazing along the various creeks that criss cross the alitplano. And, as was starting to become a theme, some idiot young Israelis were chasing them around.

As the day went on we reached Paso del Diablo. At 5000-odd metres it was one of the highest points we would reach that day. Windy, cold, and with an unmatched view of the valley below, and landscape beyond.

A brief stop in San Pablo de Lipez, a tiny little town. While we were there I had a chat with Piter about politics and Evo. Evo is a subject every Bolivian has an opinion on, and the majority love him. Piter was equivocal.

He gestured around him. The school, the electricity, the clinic – none of this was here before Evo. But, he perceived a lack of freedom – at least, a lack of economic freedom, and, as a little capitalist, he was all about that. He was wearing a Ché hat, but said he didn't like him. Not sure why he had had the hat. I asked Lucy, “How about you?” she gave a cheeky grin and said, yeah, she loved Che.
There's a lot of misconception about exactly what Evo is doing – Piter was looking for somewhere in between.

We arrived finally at our stop for the night – another tiny little village in the shadow of a massive volcano. Newly erected power poles, and a nice looking one room school surrounded by adobe and mud houses. And, a futsal court – futsal is big in Bolivia. Having bought new futsal shoes the day before I looked ruefully at the kids playing in the small town of San Antonio de Lipez – I'd have loved to join in and cop a flogging, but at 4250m I would have been able to run about three steps before collapsing in a heap and looking for the drop down mask.

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