Viva Bolivia!

Hello All! Where to start? we made a great friend in Sucre, a fellow moto-fanatic-traveller named Jeroen. He had been in Sucre for three weeks, and knew all the spots. Needless to say, our few days in Sucre were action packed (especially at night). I (Valerie) was feeling like crap. I have not been quite right in the tummy since Chile. We heard of a gastrointestinal clinic in the city I should go to. We went, and after a once-over I was prescribed a few antibiotics. The antiobiotics did not help me.

We ventured onward with Jeroen to Cochabamba. It was a great ride - A good dirt road with great scenery and warm weather. Unfortunately on our second night there I became so violently ill that I had to be rushed to an emergency room. It was a nice, clean hospital. Then we began the two day treatment run-around which got us nowhere - We were forever in one line or another, trying to pay for services we did not know if we needed. When adam and Jeroen suggested we ride to La Paz and seek treatment there, I was ready to go.

Jeroen has a friend who knows someone at the dutch embassy in La Paz who could lead us in the right direction ( a real doctor?). So we loaded up the motos and a sick V and headed for La Paz. As sick as I was, it still felt great to be on the road. The ride was 400km of flat pavement at 4,000 meters elevation. We were able to sustain speeds of 80-90mph for most of the time except whenwe were confronted by bloquades (the locals fill the road with debris and light things on fire to stop comercial trafic from moving) We encountered two bloquades on the way to La Paz. Driving fast at such a high elevation is great. The wind hitting you feels like a sea level 40 mph. We made it to La Paz in 7 hours.

Once we arrived in La Paz and we were situated in a nice hostal, I called our Dutch embassy connection and He gave me the number to a doctor from the American embassy. I called the Doctor, and as soon as I heard his voice I knew I would be alright. I explained to him what I had been through (three hospitals, lots of blank stares, stacks of medications...) and he said "poor dear, where are you?" As soon as I heard those words, and the kindness and compassion in his voice, I knew I would be alright. The Doctor came immeaditly to our hostal, and after several questions and a brief examination, he drove me to a private clinic in his BMW. My Hero!

I think I got the best room in the hospital. It had a private bathroom, a huge patio, and a view of the US embassy. I was hooked up to an IV and began receiving rehydration fluids and antiobiotics. I was on the IV for two days under excellent supervision and care. On my first nigh in the hospital, I insisted that Adam join our Dutch friends for a beer. One beer turned into three or four, and at 4 Adam came stumbling through the door. I was not mad at him for staying out so late - They had a great time hanging out at the Sol Y Luna bar drinking beers. But we were both stoked on the visiting hours. Adam slept till 1pm the next day, and the nurses covered him up with blankets and gave him Advil. What fantastic treatment.

The next nigh, Adam stayed in and our dutch friends came to visit us. We hung out for a couple of hours, and had the best time ever in a hospital.

I was released the next day. The doctor prescribed me Keflex, and told me I was suffering from a severe bacterial infection in my intestines. Two days of IV antiobiotics had knocked down the bacteria (e. coli) levels to the point where pills would work.

Two days later I was ready for a vacation. We loaded up the bike, and headed for tropical Corioco. We drove through a 4800 meter (15,000ft) pass, and descended through the clouds and mists into the jungle. We were able to get the best Cabana we could ever imagine - private everything with fantastic views of Andean peaks and the rivers. It even had a BBQ pit! Our Dutch friends joined us the next day, and we spent the next 5 days BBQíng , lounging by the pool and reading. Heaven.

After five days of luxury, we headed back towards the city. The ride back was fantistic, except for the dust. It was clear as a bell, and we were able to appreciate why the road is called "the worlds most dangerous road" The road is only 10 feet wide for most of the way, and at the edge of the road the dirt gives way to nothing for 1000 meters. Literally driving along a cliffs edge. Motorcycle was definately the safest way to go - We could get out of anyones way and be in control the whole time.

Tomorrow we are heading to Peru, and will drive along the eastern shore of Lake Titticaca (the unpaved, uninhabited, untravelled route) It should be an adventure!

Much Love,

A&V