Bolivian border

I entered Bolivia Through the town of Avaroa which is at an altitude of 3,700 metres, though during the bus journey we went over a pass that was over 4,500 m. It was very cold during this journey the air is very thin making breathing more difficult than normal, and the bus was full of dust. To make matters worse the woman sitting next to me was not keen on sharing here blankets with a poor freezing gringo who had stupidly turned up for a 6am bus in shorts.

Altiplano

I experienced proper culture shock the moment I crossed the border into Bolivia, and realised that my travels up to this point had been in the more westernised countrys and that this journey would be very exciting. You can see the moment you go over the border that it is a very poor country and that there is little road infrastructure, and the packs of maurading perro's found in Argentina and Chile were replaced by pigs!

Train going across the Altiplano

Volcan Ollague

San Pedro de Atacama

The Atacama desert

I arrived in the town of San Pedro de Atacama at the height of their summer, and god was it oppressively hot, 35 Celsius during the day then getting close to 0 degrees during the night! The town itself is a total tourist trap (literally) as its a 2 hour bus ride to the nearest point of escape, the mining town of Calama. The hostels don't have kitchens, forcing people to eat at the massively over priced eateries, and I was told by the hostel staff not to think about using my camping stove within the town boundaries as I could be lynched!

The town itself is of no interest and has nothing other than restaurants and tour companies lining its streets. I hired a bike and explored the surroundings which are pretty impressive, though with the sweltering heat and beating sun is hard work and I drank nearly 5 litres of water.

I cycled up the aptly named Valle de la Muerta, which I think came close to claiming another victim. It may only be 4 or 5 km's long but trying to cycle up a slight incline in loose sand with the sun beating down on you is not easy, there is very little shelter and on a few occasions I was questioning my sanity. Though when you get to the top and get spectacular views over the barren wasteland that is the Atacama you are chuffed that you didn't just pack it in further back and freewheel back down to the pub.

Near the top of the aptly named Valley of the dead

Nothing for 100's of miles in every direction

These cliffs were creaking and moaning as the morning sun heated them up

Some caves I found on my bike ride

It sounds corny to say but the silence out here really is deafening

Dust storm rising as the sun goes down