Whilst travelling around Bolivia I have been reading Che Guevara´s Bolivia Diaries, his final diary entries before his asassination 45 years ago. Of course, I could not leave this incredible country without retracing my heros final days, bizzarly, 45 years to the date of his death.
We started our Che adventure at Samaipata, a small, quaint village 3 hours away from Santa Cruz in the East of Bolivia. We left our backpacks at a hostel in Samaipata taking only a small overnight bag containing my toothbrush, spare contact lenses, a pair of leggings, my swiss army knife and of course, my copy of the Bolivian Diaries. We hired a car and set off for Vallegrande, a small village a further 2 hours away where Che was secretly buried for 30 years. After visiting the Che museum, which featured numerous harrowing photographs of his body after he was killed, we visited the place where his body was displayed to the media after his death; a small laundry room at the back of the village hospital. The hospital is still in use, whilst the laundry room has become a graffati covered memorial in which people express their love for this unforgettable, inspirational figure.
It was such an undignified, depressing end to such an incredibly great man. Standing inside the laundry room, a place of death, whilst watching young mothers taking their babies into the hospital seemed such a bizzare and harrowing experience.
After visiting the place in which he was secretely buried for over 30 years, we went for lunch where we starting chatting to David, a bright, charasmatic french tour guide. He told us he was on his way to La Higuera, the next village on our route and would happily give us a lift and a hostel. So, we piled into the back of his jeep, there were no seats so we just sat on the floor, and hoped it wouldn´t be another horrendous journey, and we started the 2500 metre climb over the mountains to La Higuera. Once we arrived in the tiny village of Higuera, and settled into our cute hammock filled hostel, David offered to take us on the real Che Guevara trek, literally retracing his final steps through the mountains, desert, jungle and rivers. This is completely off the beaten path, as travellers in search of a real adventure, an offer that we could not refuse.
So, the next morning David gave us each a big backpack containing a hammock, sleeping bag, essential cooking equipment, a litre of water and some very basic food, and along with my toothbrush, contact lenses, leggings, swiss army knife and my copy of Che Guevara´s Bolivian Diaries, we set off in the 35 degree heat.
As we walked for three hours through the sparse, steep mountains, 2000 metres downhill towards the Rio Grande, I quickly finished my litre bottle of water in the midday sun. We eventually came to a waterfall with a natural pool in which we immediately jumped into, to cool off from the horredous heat. Having no bikini, or change of clothes we had to strip to our underwear to splash about in the cold waterfall. We continued our trek through a rocky canyon with the midday heat and lack of water starting to become a problem. After two hours more, we eventually reached a dry river bed with a very small amount of water. We eagerly filled our empty water bottles and drank the relatively clear river water. It was salty so didn´t really quench my thirst and it certainly wasn´t enough to keep me going for a further two hours through the dry desert.
Being exposed to the high sun and afternoon heat in the desert, we were becoming deseperate for water. I started to feel sick as did the Anita and Jen, and I had to pause to a few times as I felt as if I was going to faint. We finally reached the Rio Grande, a large river of brown, murky water. We were so thirty that we didn´t care about the colour or the taste of the water, nor about the potential parasites or bacteria that we were quenching our thirst with.
We filled our water bottles with the muddy water and continued with just one more hour to go through the cactus covered desert, until we reached our camp. As we struggled with exhaustion and dehydration, climbing over giant sand dunes we were rewarded with an incredible view of our home for the night. A completely deserted, river beach surrounded by lush green trees.
As soon as we reached the beach, we dived into the river in desperation, needing not only to cool down from our 8 hour desert hike but also needing to rehydrate ourselves.
After taking in the unbelievable views of the Rio Grande and the secluded beach, we set up camp amongst the wildlife. Hanging our hammocks between the trees, starting a campfire and using my trusty swiss army knife to prepare a much-needed dinner of potatoes and onions. We spent our night resting our exhausted muscles by the campfire, attempting to rehydrate our lethargic bodies by drinking hot river water with coca leaves.
We awoke the next morning after a very restless night in our hammocks, and set off for another tiring day of trekking in the sun. After three hours the desert suddenly turned into rocky terrain and boulders, making it very tricky to co-ordinate my tired legs. I had a couple of falls from the rocks causing my shoes and only set of clothes to become completely soaked in river water, making it even more difficult to walk on the slippy rocks. After seven long hours, we finally arrived at a much needed waterfall where we could set up camp for our second night in the wild. Luckily, the waterfall was surrounded by lemon trees and sugar cane, meaning we could make fresh lemonade, making the dirty river water much tastier, but still parasite-filled.
As we relaxed in our hammocks after a dinner of tuna pasta, we heard the sound of thunder and saw the lightening heading our way. It wasn´t long before the rain came. We scrambled under a small piece of tarpaulin with our sleeping bags to shelter from the thunderstorm. We spent the entire night squashed under our shelter. Needless to say I was far from fresh for our final day on the Che trail.
Tired, dehydrated and hungry, we dragged our weary bodies and our heavy backpacks for eleven hours through rivers and jungle. We climbed 1100 metres through rocky waterfalls and up vertical walls, with only a piece of rope which David held at the top whilst I struggled to pull myself up the rocks. Every rock that we climbed left me with another bruise or cut, it was agonising. There were tears and laughter as we dragged ourselves along the exhausting trail and unsuccessfully attempted to scramble up the vertical rocks.
When we reached the cave in which Che spent his final night, where he wrote his final diary entry, we all paused and thought about how horrendously difficult it must have been for him and his men surviving in these conditions for over a year.
Two hours later, we finally reached the place in which Che was captured, which has now been converted into a peacful, memorial spot. We sat, completely exhausted, thankful that the trek had ended...almost. Just one more hour of hiking 1000 metres uphill, back to the little village of La Higuera. It was dark now and we were desperate to get back to the hostel, our motivation being a hot shower and an ice cold coca-cola!
Unsurprisingly, I was sick for two days after the hike from pure exhaustion and dehydration.
This was by far the most incredibly difficult, physically challenging experience of my life. But a true adventure, Che Guevara style!
