Bolivian backblocks

What a spot! First job of the morning to dry out our gear, the dew heavier than expected. That's our bike manual lying on the mattress, it's taken more than a week to properly dry out after our swim in the river.

The road offered just about every type of challenge a dirt road can offer. These included countless landslides (like the one we are camped on above). In some cases, the whole side of the mountain had slumped metres, making for a sharp drop to get into it and a sharp climb out on the other side. We also faced creek crossings, river crossings, deep mud, deep sand, loose surfaces and steep steep country - out in the middle of nowhere.

Even as pillion I was challenged, when we stood up, no longer could I stretch my legs, loosely hold Andy's jacket and look over his shoulder - I was gripping him and the bike for sheer life ... and often didn't dare look!

In the afternoon, after a particularly long climb, we came to a sign 'Ruta del Ché' next to a small track. Despite the fact it had no indication of how far away it was (visitors will benefit from the '10km' Andy added to the sign in permanat marker on our way out), we decided to head down it.

In 1967 Ché Guevara and other core revolutionaries had come to the area looking for a suitable place to set up a revolutionary training ground for South Americans (this site being relatively central in the continent). It was here that US soldiers caught up with them and killed three of them in combat. Ché and one other were taken captive and locked in a small school building with the bodies of their dead comrades.

The next day, Ché and his last remaining comrade were executed without trial.

The town, La Higuera, seemed like a shrine to Ché, an the school building used for execution was set up as a museum. We payed our respects along with other visitors.

While we were there, a group of Germans making a documentary about the Ruta del Ché turned up and interviewed us (being the only international tourists apart from some Argentine hippies - seemingly not interested in Germans or docos).

While we both thought of things we would have liked have raised (for me, the virtues of non-violent activism), we were pretty happy with our performance on camera. Wonder if we will ever get to see the results, they didn't seem the most professional of crews - not even a basic Spanish speaker amongst them.

The road eased up a little after Pucarà, the town after the Ruta del Ché detour, and after endless more crazy switchbacks and patches of loose surface, we finally made it to asphalt, and then Vallegrande.

At Villagrande we were told we were the first vehicle to come through that way since the last dry season.

Despite the fact it was getting late and Samaipata was still two hours away, we decided to make the journey. The dark brought new challenges (unlit vehicles, people and animals, and unmarked roadworks, gravel and piles of dirt on the road), but we made it there without incident, headed for the centro, and found a hostel for the night. Finally in Samaipata!!