Arrived at Cork. Ian comes just in time for boarding. Cross the Irish sea. Arrive at The City of The Great (TCTG…London. Can’t stop abbreviating thanks to IDFP) Eat a sandwich. Pay with dollars. Head to the Airport bar. Order two pints of Becks. Listen to Ian talk about how dull airport bars are because they don’t even have locals. Meet an American who didn’t claim to be Irish but had been in Ireland for Paddy’s day. Look at his tattoo “Life’s a garden-Dig it.” Say goodbye to him. Watch Ian point at him “Ledgend.” Order two more pints of Becks. Say hello to another American. Talk about his job working for Médecins Sans Frontières. Look at his pictures of his time in Ethiopia. Get suspicious when we see his girlfriend. Get even more suspicious when we see the 40 year age gap. Get put in my place when he say’s “you’re pretty n all but my Ethiopian women really have somethin.” Want to order a vodka.

Meet a man who is travelling around the world sampling beer. Realise he’s as dull as the airport bar. Try not to engage in anymore conversation. Listen to Ian challenge some of his bullshit. Order two more pints of beer. Meet a guy from Canada. Don’t know what part he played in this blog. Oh, let the Canadian watch our bags whilst we went to the toilet. Learn that toilets are actually called “jacks.” Come back from the jacks. Head to the departures. Talk about getting into first class. Pretend we are on a honeymoon. Walk through first class. Enter a sweat box. Realise the honeymoon period is over. Sit next to an Owen Wilson look alike. Talk. Take off. Order some Jack Daniels and Coke. Realise it’s free. Order some more. Induce a sleep.

Wake up. Talk to Owen some more. Ask Ian should I bring up the resemblance. Get told no, we don’t want to offend him. Decide to keep quiet. Get told Jack Daniels is nicer with ginger ale. Order some Jack Daniels and ginger ale. Try watch a movie. Watch an Idiot Abroad instead (fitting some would say) Land in Miami. Think our day couldn’t get any better. Get to passport control. See the other one thousand people that thought their day couldn’t get any better. Queue for ninety minutes. Realise I shouldn’t travel in boots and a fleece. Start to panic about my passport picture. Get told by the man his picture looks like he should be put behind bars. Not sure where to go from there. Get out of Miami Airport. Sit down outside. Realise the heat and fleece aren’t working well. Buy a t-shirt with “Miami” in jewels across the front of it. Buy an American Diet Coke. Wish Sarah was there to enjoy it with me. Try finding Wi-Fi. Go to change into my tracksuit and new t-shirt. Realise I don’t have my tracksuit with me. Wear the t-shirt with my jeans. Regret buying the t-shirt. Still try to find Wi-Fi. Unsuccessful. Come to the agreement that Miami is a crap airport.

Wait for the plane. Try the honeymoon excuse. Get shot down. Think about my own honeymoon. Pray it’s better than this journey. Pray it even happens. Get on the plane. Take off. Fall asleep almost instantly. Wake up to hear we cannot land in La Paz. Doesn’t register. Wake up to hear we will land in 20 minutes in Miami. Finally registers. Start to wonder why it isn’t safe to land in La Paz. Panic about this landing. Look at Ian. See he’s still asleep on the Bolivian lady’s lap. Ask her kindly to wake him up. Realise she doesn’t speak English. Make a prodding action with my hand. She copies and wakes him up. Tell Ian we are landing in Miami. Listen to him shout back “NO”. Observe Ian being in a trance. Land in Miami. Take off again. Look at Ian asleep on the women’s lap again. Decide to leave him be as he appears comfy. Watch the clouds. Fly over the Andes. Video record the landing. Re-explain to Ian what happened during the last twelve hours. Get to customs. Try to fill out forms with shaky hands. Bloody altitude. Start feeling dizzy. Bloody altitude.

See my bag next to Ian’s. Start to think I packed too much. Try to lift my bag. Realise I packed too much. Meet a Canadian who has been living in the slums in Rio. Meet two girls from Sweden. Hoist my suitcase on to the top of the trufi. Take the trufi to the centre of La Paz with our new friends. Find it hard to breath. Bloody altitude. Worry my bag will fall off the roof. Get reassured by Ian it is too heavy to move. Get to the centre. Start to perspire. Bloody altitude. Dawns on me that La Paz is on a hill. Sods Law our hostel is at the top. Begin the hike. Begin to feel faint. Bloody altitude. Watch Ian drag the dead weight suitcase up Kilimanjaro. Feel like crying. Bloody altitude.

Finally arrive at the hostel with the two girls and the Canadian. Surprised Ian hasn’t hit me a dig. Get a room on the second floor. Sods Law there isn’t a lift. Tell the girls we will meet them at 5pm for dinner. Get to the second floor. Finally start breathing again. Open the door. Wonder did American Airlines ring ahead and tell them about our honeymoon. Look at the one double bed. Realise that the joke is now on us. Look out of our balcony. Finally can use Wi-Fi. Contact home. Explain to my mum through email how to use Skype. Realise she is not as technologically advanced as I thought. Finally get a call from her. Talk and say I will call later. Get five more calls. Assume she is just happy she has accomplished Skype. Head out to explore La Paz. Sit down in the square after ten minutes. Appears this altitude is affected us. Get up and to a café. Enjoy a bottle of Corona and a Tuna salad. Go through the markets. Buy a handmade handbag. Get told by Ian I don’t need any more bags. Buy some earrings from a street vendor. Get told “Welcome to Bolivia.” Feel happy to finally be in the big B. Struggle uphill to the hostel. Bloody altitude.

Wonder will I make it to the second floor without collapsing. Bloody altitude. Get into bed. Cancel dinner with our new friends. Ian takes a turn for the worse. Wonder if he has malaria or rabies. Sleep for a while. Wake up next to Casper. Think about the medical services here. Wait till the morning for Ian to come round. Check out by twelve. Pay 174 Bolivianos (Bs) for a night of hell. Bloody altitude. Make a decision with Ian we are going to blame everything on altitude. Make a move for the bus terminal in La Paz. Hope that we will make the first bus to Cochabamba. Arrive at the terminal at one o clock. Sit on my sofa on wheels outside. Knew that this much luggage would have benefits. Don’t realise the strength of the sun. Look like Rudolph. See other people travelling. Get embarrassed at the amount of luggage I have. Discover we can’t travel till 10 that evening as there is a road blockade in Cochabamba due to political unrest. Meet our hero Carlos. Got lunch, with the help of Carols. Never thought I would be so happy to eat rice, eggs, deep fried cheese strips and fried potato cubes. Watched Ian struggle with the chicken and cheese in batter. Bloody altitude. Can’t believe it’s only 3 o’clock. Sit back in the bus station. Wait. Never realised how much I hate waiting. Think of millions of things.

Book seats on a bus for half 8pm, with the help of Carlos. Wait. Go to get bus and our tickets have been sold. Carlos gets into a heavy debate with the women. Feel relived someone is looking after us. Book new seats on a new bus, with the help of Carols. Only another 4 hour wait. Can’t find Diet Coke. Wonder what Sarah would do (WWSD) Can’t see any cream eggs so buy a bottle of regular Coke. Go to the “jacks”. Pay 50 centavos to use the “jacks”. Also realise I’m paying for toilet roll. Mind the luggage whilst Ian goes to the toilet. Listen to the complaints about the lack of toilet roll. Wait some more. Meet Carlos. Talk about his book that he’s going to release. Talk about him visiting us in Cochabamba. Say goodbye to Carlos. Board the bus. Make full use of the extra reclining seats. Watch all the stray dogs on the sides of the roads. Feel happy I got the rabies vaccine. Worry about Ian. Wonder if the bus will ever get there. Start to feel sick. Bloody altitude.

Ian suggests I open the window. Feel better. Man behind me tells me to close the window. See more dogs. Realise my pooches wouldn’t survive out in the wild. Hear some man coughing and spluttering behind me. Start to miss the comforts of home. Start to miss my mum. Try but fail to sleep. Can see the lights of Cochabamba in the distance. Pray we arrive soon. Didn’t anticipate the bumpy road. Look for a plastic bag. Don’t have to use it. Get off the bus. Realise we have no internet or contact number for anyone to collect us. Sleep on the floor of the bus terminal in Cochabamba. Get offered sandwiches from a girl who had been looking over. Start to worry about the state of my appearance. Remind myself of the sunburn. Ian sorts us out. Get taxi to meet the people we will stay with. Get to the apartment and just want to sleep. Go to sleep at 12 midday. Wake up at 2 o’clock. Assume it is 2 o’clock the following day. Still feel sick. Bloody altitude. Find an internet café to Skype my mum. She is now a pro. Tell her I have been asleep for a full day. She sounds confused. Go back home. Sleep some more. Wake up at 7 o’clock. Meet my roommate Johan. Can’t understand why he’s drinking whiskey at 7 in the morning. Get told an hour later that it is the evening still. Feel disorientated. Bloody altitude. Get told we are going to the pub in the morning to watch a football match. Can’t think of anything worse. Pray I feel better by then. Get up and go to the pub.

Meet Brendan. A Dublin man working for Proyecto. Pretend I care about football. Pretend I want Tottenham to win because Brendan does. Ian sleeps in. Meet Ian wondering down El Prado later on. Go get a phone with the help of Brendan and Johan. Go for a coffee in the best coffee house in Cochabamba. Don’t drink coffee so get a Coke instead. Wonder if Sarah will be drinking this much regular Coke. Go sort internet out. Feel happy that I can contact home. Get told by Ian that I was only asleep for two hours not twenty four like I had thought. Start to feel that I havnt been in Cochabamba as long as I thought I had. Bloody altitude. We all develop a hunger and a thirst. Go to a restaurant for some food. Enjoy Tiquana. Get told it’s brewed in Cochabamba. Can’t eat too much. Go to a pub and enjoy some more beers. C’est la vie. Decide we will all go out for dinner. Order some more beers. Go home and get ready. Have some whiskey with Johan. Head to the pizza bar for dinner. Brendan waiting. No sign of Ian. Menu looks good. Order a beer. Wonder what’s happened to Ian. Cant contact him because he doesn’t have a phone. Beer comes out in a jug.

Ian arrives. He got lost. Everyone orders quickly. Brendan thinks Ian is like Graham Norton. Ian thinks I am Mary Doyle and Brendan is Fr. Jack. Great food. Great company. Order some more drinks for the table. Ian finishes off my pizza too. No room for dessert. We head to a pub. Brendan heads home. We order some rum and coke. They bring ice too. Start to worry about the ice. Ian reassures me it will be “graaaaaannnddd” I chance it. No immediate effects. Not off the ice anyway. Start playing a game with dice. Some getting more competitive than others. More volunteers come and meet us for a drink. All in good spirits. Band start to play. Johan and I decide to head home. Ian stays and goes to the club. Wake up and meet Johan in a café. Explore some more of Cochabamba. Think that I could live here full time. Begin to love the city. Go buy some fresh fruit at the market. Remember D- Talk. Buy bottled water to wash them with. Walk to a market that sells dogs. Miss my Harley. Get emotional looking at the dogs. Keep the sunglasses on so Johan doesn’t realise I am a head case. Keep putting on the sun cream. Head home to sleep. Can’t sleep. Wind up on Facebook. Decide to go for lunch with Ian. Walk for ages. Hope my face isn’t burning. Order some chips. Share a litre of homemade apple juice. Tastes weird. Ian describes it as “poor”.

Come home. Light is blown in my bedroom. Couldn’t read so decided to write a blog. Don’t know why I wrote it like this. Don’t know if anyone will read it. Realised this has been the only time I have wrote over 2,000 words and not had an emotional breakdown. If anyone has got this far I do apologise, it’s the bloody altitude.