Reflections and news from the front line.

We keep thinking about how we could have kept have kept going. But it's hard to think of a way. Some of our problems were fairly minor and easily fixable - if there had been been time, others were more serious but possibly surmountable, again given a little time.

The driving days have been so long and the conditions so punishing that it all became impossible. We expected to be slower than the days driving time in the route book, but, in reality, many people have been having problems keeping up. The worst thing is that when you arrive in day after day close to midnight or even well afterwards and then have to get off at 6, and do not have a rest day after some of the most gruelling conditions imaginable there is never an opportunity to work on the cars without falling badly behind. Conditions were very hard in Mongolia but, even the slower cars like us managed to arrive in daylight or only shortly after dark most nights. Plus we had two rest days to recuperate and get repairs etc done.

We're both pretty tough, I think we proved that on P2P when we dealt with our gearbox failure and had to drive for 22 hours to catch up. But, as I have said, this has broken us. It is a very bad feeling. Only mitigated, and I say this with no pleasure whatsoever, that many other people are feeling demoralised too. Everyone is exhausted with the very long days and appalling roads, the lack of sleep, not eating properly and, of course, we have to deal with extreme altitude. The mood is rather glum.

Our car is currently sitting in the total dump that is Uyuni. Imagine a filthy, scruffy place with piles of rubbish and snarling dogs. A microcosm of Bolivia, in fact. It is in a secure lockup and the shippers will deal with it for us. A very sad end to such a plucky little car. I had quite wanted to see the salt flats but obviously that wasn't going to happen. I don't even know what time we got in and, in the morning, I had to have oxygen for a while and then we left with Lloyd and Treacy in their Nissan Patrol hire car. It was a bit like being a mile away from the Taj Mahal and not quite making it.

It was fantastic travelling with L and T. Unfortunately 200 kms had been added to the route because of a severe storm that had washed away a road. We were fortunate in a modern car but felt dreadfully sorry for the older vehicles. Thankfully, all made it in to La Paz. Behind us there was a snowstorm that Bill and Biddy went through and there was 4 inches of snow and they went off the road, fortunately both were well but it must have been terrifying.
The nature in Bolivia is beautiful, truly stunning in places. But the towns are vile. Sinister, filthy, full of rubbish and nowhere that you want to venture into.

The Indian villages are so desperately poor. It is hard to imagine a tougher life. We noted that the huts did not have chimneys - there is no wood to burn anyway, and it gets very cold at the high altitudes. Apparently they just put on more clothes, the ladies seven skirts,, just taking them off to adjust to temperature. There seems to be no form of transport in many of them, not even a moped in sight ad nothing, nothing for 100 kms in any direction. There are no shops they just eat what they can grow, and that doesn't seem to be much. There is nothing to do and they are completely cut off from the rest of the world. There are no satellite dishes either, even Mongolian Gers have those.

The people here are tiny; the government should be spending more money on childhood nutrition and less on stupid, pointless, bureaucracy. It is a terrible place and we will be happy to leave and will not come back. At a local level, people can be lovely, a bit like in Iran, but the regime is appalling. It is sinister and depressing. Yet again I feel grateful being born where I was.

So we journey in comfort to La Paz, an extraordinary situated city. We entered from the top rim and the first glimpse of the drop was breathtaking. It just tumbles vertically in a massive warren of narrow streets. The richer you are the lower you live, apparently. The entrance was the usual filth and we snaked downwards on the more gentle main road to our hotel passing some rather lovely old colonial buildings. Poor Louise, for complicated reasons, had to drive their vintage Bentley on her own, as Peter was ill and had been rushed to the hotel. The helpful director director of the Radisson , who went with Louise led her the short way i.e. vertically down. Having been in a taxi on those roads this morning I really don't know how she did it. It would have been utterly terrifying. She is magnificent for doing so well and being so brave whilst all the while being so worried about Peter.

The rally left this morning. It is horrid to be left behind. We are flying to Cusco in the morning where we will join other retired refugees to a enjoy a little Orient Express splendour at The Monasterio Hotel before going into The Sacred Vally to join the rally on Thursday. Other plots are being hatched about onward travel. It is complicated by border crossings, as always.

We had a delightful driver called Ruben to take us sightseeing today, he was the size of a 10 year old, but sweet. We have done La Paz new and definitely done Bolivia. Roll on Peru. We are having to miss going to Lake Titicaca where the crews will have a badly needed rest day, but we have both been before so it is not too disastrous.

Watch this space.