Again battling several roadblocks* we rolled into the amazing sight of La paz – the city is built in a massive crater but being a little short on space, has expanded all the way up the crater walls giving it the appearance of an inverted Coruscant.

Upon arrival the guide gave the usual spiel about where to eat, what not to do and the activities on offer – for me one stood out.

In my travels (and prior to) I have done many of the available commercial adventure sports (those offered to the general public). Nearly all profess a certain level of extremeness and danger, but in reality most are fairly safe and consequently unexciting. This however is NOT an apt description of mountain biking on a certain stretch in Bolivia.

Marketed as the “the World's Most Dangerous Road” this Bolivian road kills, on average, 3 people per week and has claimed the lives of 7 tourists since being opened to mountain bike tours. How could I resist?

The trip consists of 64 kms downhill 40 of which is unsealed (mud on the day we went), single lane... and open to 2-way traffic. At places there are 3600m of vertical drop, but this is immaterial as along the entire way any fall will be a from fatal height – did I mention it is unfenced?

The ride was awesome but it’s pointless giving a blow by blow (64kms is a long way), so if you want to see what it was like just click here and enter the password ‘photos’ – I’ll be in some of them (definitely 73, 105 & 118).

* Apparently the Bolivian Government has done a mining deal with some multinationals that will see those parties get filthy rich while the general public get nothing… so much for good corporate citizenship.

Leaving the oasis behind, we pushed (hassle-free) into the Argentinean town of Salta where we spent a few sleepless nights (partying) before moving onto Bolivia.

At the border our guide warned us that Bolivia was about 30 years behind the rest of South America... this was an optimistic appraisal. After enduring several roadblocks (seemingly orchestrated by old women in bowler hats) we reached Uyuni for a day on the salt flats... that were uncharacteristically covered in a foot of water.

It was an excellent day that included lunching on Cactus Island (a massive cactus-covered raise in the middle of the salt plain) and a game of cricket of on the artic-like salt plain (the salt had sealed over the top of the water creating an ice-like layer).

Presumably due a combination of the salt and primitive maintenance techniques, 2 of the 5 Land cruisers we were aboard broke down but after some ingenious mechanics performed by our drivers with local fauna we limped back to our hotel around midnight.

We had been scheduled to return by 7pm. Having been involved in convoys (and several breakdowns) before I didn’t blink an eyelid at the delay (besides – it wasn’t like we had anywhere else to be) but it was interesting to note the temperament (or lack there of) of others :)

The next day delivered us to the small mining town of Potosi where most of us joined a tour of the local silver/tin mine. The bulk of valuable minerals have already been drained from this area during Spanish enslavement of locals several years ago, but many of the locals continue to eek out a merge existence from the traces that remain.

The tour took us several hundred metres underground. There were various points where participants could drop out – as most did – if they no longer felt inclined to go deeper. I made it as far down as they would take us but was relieved when we returned the surface – the mines are of primitive construction and consequently very dangerous. Potosian miner will not be featuring as a possible career alternative.

The Overland Oasis

After leaving Asuncion and possibly the cheapest electronics retailers ever (roughly half the price of any I’ve seen anywhere in the world) we headed to the Jesuit Ruins.

The story goes that a bunch of missionaries came in, built a utopian type village to house, educate and up skill the natives (while pumping them full of Catholicism) in the hope that skilled natives would be better able to avoid the Spanish slave trade. Unfortunately, though initiated with good intentions, the missionaries only served to make the natives more attractive to the Spanish, given they could now be sold as skilled slaves (carpenters, etc).

While this was not lost on us as we ventured through the ruins, most of us were more interested is seeking a glimpse of another native inhabitant – the tarantula. Despite a few hours of avid investigation, Mr T was not to be found in the ruins… but, as we were alerted to by several screams later that night, had instead taken residence in the female toilets at our campsite. You’ve got to love a deadly spider with a sense of humour :)

Seemingly part of every overlanding experience is the unexpected oasis. This is stop that you don’t know anything about and hasn’t been flagged by the guide, but upon arrival you know is special. In central Africa it was Zanzibar, in Southern Africa it was Swakopmund and so far in South America it has been small campsite (whose name I can´t remember) in Paraguay.

Oasis is the perfect word to describe this place. Situated in the middle of nowhere, the campsite surrounded a massive pool (with a diving board... and don’t think I didn’t make use of that :) and an outdoor bar that overlooked it all. It was a great place just to relax and bask in quiet contemplation. But they also offered horse riding so of course I sat still for about 5 seconds before taking to the saddle for the 3rd time in my life.

Included among the many things I have learnt during my travels is that I like speed (and pretty much anything than can provide it) and that when it comes to horse riding I am NOT a natural.
On this occassion, in seeking to fulfil the first attribute I kind of ignored the second.

Sensing this, the horse (I’m pretty sure he was evil) made it his mission to run me into any fence, tractor or general embuggerance he could find. But I continued undeterred, so in a final effort for severe carnage he ran me into a tree at full gallop, forcing me (much to everyone else’s amusement) to make a strategic dismount (read: I fell off backwards). If only he had used his powers for good instead of evil... stupid horse.