cerro rico
August 16th 2009 The journey to Potosi was short and hairy. The bus was full of sweaty people eating smelly food and Josie was fretting from the word go about when she would get to stop for the loo. The unsealed gravel road wound for 4 hours round hairpin bends, on multicoloured mineral-rich hills, past llamas and a silver mine where Butch Cassidy had apparently held up a train. When we did stop for the loo, there
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