08 November 2013

8th JANUARY 2004 - New Year and January blues

Hello and Happy New Year!

Just a quickie this time (well, for me) as I've already heard from various people how crap it is to be back at work and don't want to rub it in that... well... we're not. Sorry. OK, I'll shut up and get on with it.

We haven't been doing a huge amount since I last e-mailed, mainly getting hammered with people of various nationalities... you know when it's the festive season and nothing much is happening and you wake up with a hangover and mooch around the streets a bit, pretending you're intending to Do Something Cultural, perhaps visit that art gallery you saw something about in the paper the other day... until someone cracks, suggests a beer, and is immediately accused of having an alcohol problem by everyone else, etc etc? That may be my longest excuse ever, but you get the picture. And anyway, it was also a kind of sociological research project, in which I discovered that Germans do indeed have a brand of humour entirely their own, and it's very 'unique' and 'special'. So there you go.

The only thing we did worth mentioning was the Road of Death, a kerazee 80-km mountain-bike ride which descends over 4000 feet of what's basically a steep dirt track with sheer drops of hundreds of feet on one side, guarded by nothing except a cross or plaque every so often to commemorate a traveller who didn't live to tell the tale. We started off in the pissing rain and were drenched by the time we reached the unpaved bit (the last 50km), which is announced by a large sign telling drivers to go slow, give way to vehicles coming up, keep headlights on day and night, sound the horn at every corner, and generally not to bother if they've any sense. There were six people plus two guides in our group, and one guy kept shooting off ahead with the first guide, while the rest of us had to stay with the second one. As we all paused before starting the mad part, those two shot off, and I realised I had a choice between either going far too fast, or having to stay behind and go at the pace of the slowest people.

Ol' Shorty must have been smiling on me that day, because I decided to go after the first two, and spent the next few hours in such a rush of adrenaline I can actually feel my stomach tightening at the memory as I type. We absolutely FLEW down - me always a few feet behind the other two, the bike jumping crazily, handlebars battering my hands, whizzing round curves a few feet from the yawning abysses to one side, braking slightly on the inner curves but letting go immediately so as not to lose any ground... then stopping on the outer curve to let a lorry or van come up past us... the people stared down at our mud-splattered faces and I looked up at them, grinning in delight, feeling totally sorry for them (while they must have thought we were nuts to be actually paying money for this)... then we'd carry on, down the slippery track, blinking rain out of our faces, and - enchantingly - riding through or behind the frequent stunning waterfalls.

The weather gradually got better as we got lower down, although this created a few problems for me, as for long stretches I could neither see (dust flying into my eyes) nor slow down at all (some people from a different group had had the nerve to pass us when we'd stopped to rest, and I didn't want to hold the other two up in getting past them again), but towards the end we were encouraged by children screaming us on as we swept past them, and anyway I was having far too much fun to care.

We'd gone at such a pace, thanks to the two nutters I was with, that we'd finished a two-course lunch by the time the rest of the group arrived at the village. We then had the nerve-racking experience of retracing our steps in the van, which gave me the opportunity of seeing all the hairpin bends, overhanging outer curves, and vertical slopes we'd just come down - much scarier when you actually had time to look!

So yeah, I needed a few beers after that. And a comfortable seat. And now we're back in Cochabamba, planning to go to the Salar de Uyuni (salt flats) next week. And the other night we met a lovely couple with the broadest Yaaarkshire accents I've ever heard, who inspired us to change our plans from heading straight to Rio and Salvador to... OMG am so excited... going via Manaus and the Amazon river. WOO-HA!!!!!

I don't want to jinx us by going on about it because it's the rainy season and we're not sure if we can definitely do it yet (some roads may be impassable), but think four-day boat trips, hammocks on deck, and, according to our guidebook, 'shady characters' which we should look out for before actually committing to any particular boat. Actually, I can't take that last bit seriously, as it just keeps making me think of that drunken, useless sea captain in Elizabethan Blackadder ("Arrrrrr!! You have a woman's hands! I'll wager those hands have never..." etc), so if any of you have any tips on how to spot potential axe murderers, do pass them on... ;o)

OK, that's about all I have to report... we're off to see the Return of the King for the second time tonight (we had to see it in La Paz first just in case we died on the bike-ride) and I can't wait. Thank god Mischka likes it as much as I do, although we nearly came to blows over the shagtastic Aragorn himself... apart from that, the closest we've come is me asking if she'd sprayed air freshener in the bathroom when she'd actually just applied perfume - not as bad as it sounds though as we'd just been talking about poo (again!!!) and the smell in the bathroom generally... still, she's forgiven me now, I think...

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