Leaving the mountain behind.....




Climbing to 5600 ft was the hardest thing I have ever done. The altitude is a killer. Thousands of tiny breaths every second nearly convincing you that its your physical strength that is'nt up to scratch. I cried a lot, sat down a lot, went at my own pace but still managed to enjoy some of the scenery on the way. When I reached the tin hut at base camp, the group was very surprised. Jez was overjoyed and I just collapsed. The only thing that egged me on was that Jez would be so proud!

Going to the tiolet in the blizzard was nearly as hard as the climb. Perched on the side of a mountain, in the middle of a snow storm half naked trying to get past 700 layers of clothing.

I knew I was going no further, my personal challenge had been met. Altitude sickness is a serious thing and I had no faith that our guides would know how to cope if Jez was affected. As soon as he started to get the head ache in the middle of the night I was having my doubts about what the morning would bring. Thankfully he decided not to go. However gutted he was, I was pleased.

The walk back was amazing. We steamed down slopes that had taken so long the night before. We idled along admiring the myriad of outstanding views, chilling out, waving at those that passed us by and further annoyed our guides.

I was very very proud of myself. It was a personal challenge I had never thought to undertake which is what makes travelling so addictive.





Now for the complaint.

We paid for a personal guide for the two of us. A guide that would ensure we were kitted out with the right equipment, actually guide us up the mountian and be a leader. Ours did none of this. However nice he was, our equipment was faulty and he allocated the wrong sizes. Most importantly he left me on the mountian for someone that was incapable! He actually told me I was not strong enough to reach base camp. I knew that I was!

After we had manouvered our way through the riots that day to get back to La Paz ( our car had the wrong number plate to be let into the city that particular hour) we went straight to the office. We were asked to return at 7pm that night to see the owner. That suited us, we need a hot shower.

We did not complain in order to try and keep the money we had yet to give them. We know by now that you cannot expect the same standards as you would get in Europe, far from it. We just wanted the owner to know what had happened, accept responsibility, say sorry and make it better for the next group. However we were wrong to assume that he cared. Wrong to assume that 2 British tourists and their flimsy complaints could make any difference to his reputation at all.

After a brief synopsis of the problems, he huffed puffed ( without any words) and then stormed out leaving his wife to deal with it. She was a bitch. He was a child. Eventaully she called our guide in and screamed at him. We did'nt want this either. It was'nt his fault that the equipment was faulty! ( even though he did leave me on the mountain) They assumed it was all for the money. In the end we said we were perfectly willing to give them the money if thats what they thought was fair! The husband came back in and kicked us out of the shop!

The next morning we went investigating as to how much the guides get paid per day to climb Huyana Potossi. We were happy for the owners not to get their money but we were quite clear that without the customers paying, the guides would not get their money! We found our guide and paid him what it could be suggested he was owed! He may have had a family to feed.

Bolivian politics!!!!

Not a problem, mountain biking down the worlds most dangerous road next!