It has been over a month since my last update and I am sure that my avid readers (Neil and Elaine) are itching for a thrilling new series of tales about our two wheeled adventures. My last blog left us in Potosi, since which we have descended a lung filling 3600metres in altitude, taken a three week holiday from our holiday and have now arrived in the tropics of Santa Cruz.
From Potosi two more cycling days brought us to the beautiful colonial city of Sucre that would see our bikes gently rust and our brains aggressively expand. We spent the following three weeks studying Spanish and enjoying the luxury of inactivity. We spent four hours each morning studying at Fenix school, home to some fantastic people. During our time there we met some great characters, namely our teachers Mum, ex wrestler and nurse who dressed us up in these new cycling threads.
After Anna had grasped the very basics of language and I had finely tuned my understanding we prepared to leave. Only it was hard to get away. After three weeks of learning Spanish and watching the world cup the idea of cycling for hours each day seemed a little less appealing than it had before. Anna had developed a throat infection and what had originally been intended as a two week stay had soon stretched beyond three.
After such a long time
our appearance had changed; our leathery rumps had softened, sunburnt
faces had peeled, muscles had wilted away and were feeling decidedly unprepared for cycling.
As soon as we were back
on the bikes we realised how much we had missed them. The following
few days heading towards the Amazon only reinforced our love for this
country. We passed through dozens of villages, met an endless stream
of friendly people, struggled through roads consisting of ankle deep
dust, happened upon the opening ceremony of a national handball
competition, enjoyed the heat and saw our first wet river in over 2
months. After months of deserts our view has finally turned green.
As soon as we left Sucre the weather got a little tropical. Now I am convinced that, many
centuries ago, an unfortunate woman living on the coast of Norfolk
had a meeting with a viking warrior. This unhappy accident has led in
turn to my flowing blonde locks, muscular build and ferocious manner
in battle. However, it has been noticed on this trip that whilst my
viking roots have certain benefits, Anna's native American roots place her in better stead
when the sun comes out. As soon as the temperature approaches 30
degrees I cycle from shady spot to shady spot while Anna glides past
without a drop of sweat falling from her armpits.After five blisteringly hot days the clouds enveloped us and we spent two gloomy days in Samaipata (very close to where Che Guevara died). The only
redeeming feature of our stay was our visit to the monkey refuge where we met that friendly fella. After our football induced break we continued our endless downhill to arrive in Santa Cruz where we are staying in a truly tropical hostel that is home to two resident toucans.
Tomorrow we will be heading out of town to Casa de Sara, the school that we are raising money for. We will be staying with them for the week, meeting the kids and maybe giving a lesson.
As we are actually here and have still raised very little please click here to donate!!
