“I suggest you take an airplane,” he said.

Maybe his advice was because I was a woman travelling alone. Maybe it was because that bus route had been plagued by protesters and blockades in Puno, Peru, for the past month and bus companies were cancelling trips on that road or rerouting them in order to avoid the blockades, adding four more hours to what was normally an eight- to 10-hour long route. Maybe it was because overland border crossings tend to be a little rougher than the customs lines at airports. Or perhaps it was simply because I was in a tourist information office and tourists tend to seek the path of least resistance.

I considered my options: a 14-hour overnight bus ride or a one-hour flight. “I think I’ll hope that the blockades clear up and take the bus,” I said.

The bus terminal is where long journeys to other parts of Peru and South America begin. Photo by Flickr/Martintoy

I made my decision for a combination of reasons. I bought my bus ticket from Cusco to La Paz in part because there was no online booking system for the one Bolivian airline offering flights. I also made my decision because, with La Paz around 12,000 feet above sea level – 1,000 feet higher than Cusco – I figured the bus trip would be better way to adjust to the difference. I made my choice because there was a price difference of about $90 and also because I had been thinking a lot about airplane travel: its heavy carbon emissions and its insulation from the local experience of place and journey in which I believe.

The Long, Local Ride

That night at 10pm, I boarded the first of three buses for a trip that actually lasted over 20 hours. During the first stretch from Cusco to Puno, I got out my blackout eye mask and my travel pillow. Cold, I pulled out my travel towel and used that as a blanket. I was caught in a half-sleep delirium that lasted all the way to Puno, our first stop, at 5am, when we were all unloaded and instructed to wait at the terminal for an hour and a half for a different bus that would take us to the border.

A 90-minute layover at a bus terminal in Peru at 5am? My ticket hadn’t said anything about that. Crankily, I made my way to the upstairs cafe and ordered a chamomile tea. I sat at a table with the woman who had been sitting next to me on the bus and we huddled by a little space heater. She was Peruvian, but had emigrated to Spain several years ago and now she was home on vacation to see her family and to take care of some paperwork. We shared experiences and pondered immigration laws. As we parted ways on different buses, she called out in Spanish, “The time passed so quickly. Take care!”

To cross the border between Peru and Bolivia, bus passengers walk under an arch. Customs and immigrations offices await on both sides. Photo by Flickr/T-Oh! & Matt

My second bus took me to the border. At customs, we were all unloaded again and shuffled through the first line for an exit stamp from Peru. We walked under a brick arch that was the border and on to Bolivian Immigration, the office I had been dreading for months. In retaliation against the U.S. and its difficult visa policy toward Bolivians, Bolivia requires a number of documents and a large fee from Americans seeking tourist visas. I had assembled my passport, my letter of invitation, my yellow fever vaccination card, two passport-sized photos, a bank statement, my itinerary as proof of onward travel and the cash payment.

When I presented the folder to the official, he leered at me. “Nice photo,” he said. “Can I have one to keep?” I blinked, sleep-deprived and dazed. “Is all the paperwork okay?” I asked. He hardly glanced at all the requisite documents that I had collated so carefully. He took the dollar bills and examined them closely. “This one has a tear in it. So does this one. We can’t accept these. The bank will not take them from us.” Five out of six of my bills were unacceptable. Meanwhile, the bus driver was glaring at me for delaying the bus. Frantic, I rifled through my emergency cash reserves and found just enough bills that were acceptably new.

I made my way back to the bus and collapsed into the seat for a six-kilometres sprint into the nearby town of Copacabana, Bolivia. We stopped, unloaded everything again and waited for a different, smaller bus that would take us to La Paz. That left me with just 20 minutes to scramble down the main road in search of a food stand. I returned to the bus stop just in time to reload my luggage and take my seat.

Crossing the Strait of Tiquina on Lake Titicaca, Bolivia, involves unloading passengers and steering the buses onto bus-only barges. Meanwhile, passengers cross on 'lancha' motorboats. Photo by Flickr/jimmyharris

The Final Stretch to La Paz

On the bus, a Japanese woman (also travelling solo) and I shared a package of cookies and watched out the window as the blue landscapes of Lake Titicaca rolled by. Unfortunately just as I was finally feeling fed, warm and comfortable enough to try to nap, the bus stopped again and we were asked to unload.

What was it this time? We had reached the Strait of Tiquina. Here, I realised why we had had to change to a smaller bus back in Copacabana. Buses are transported across the stretch of lake on barges, while the passengers a ferried in lancha motor boats.

At around 6pm, I was finally in a taxi in La Paz on the way to my friend Raul’s house, where I would be visiting for a few days. His mom opened the door and I staggered in with my luggage, dizzy from the journey and the altitude. “You look like you have the hangover of a lifetime,” she laughed. “Drop everything and sit down. I’ll make you some mate de coca.”

The 20-hour journey by bus from Cusco, Peru, ended with a taxi ride in Bolivia's high-elevation capital city of La Paz. Photo by Flickr/Claudius Prößer

Raul joined us at the kitchen table and I relayed anecdotes from the 20-hour bus marathon I had just completed. “Do you wish you had taken a plane instead of the bus?” his mother asked. I paused, undecided. Then Raul spoke up: “I think you’ve had a more Bolivian experience taking the bus. Bus travel in South America – long bus rides – is a part of life for people in South America. The bus trip you’ve just made is standard for us. Some are much longer.”

Now, looking back, the answer is a definitive: No, I don’t wish I had taken a plane from Cusco to La Paz. The 20-hour bus-bus-bus-boat-bus-taxi ride was a rite of passage into the local experience of South American life. And the $90 savings meant I could buy more local alpaca goods here in Bolivia!

Riders are ferried to the top of Bolivia's El Camino de la Muerte (the World's Most Dangerous Road) using minibuses.

But why – you might rightly ask – why did over 25,000 thrill seekers risk their lives travelling down the Death Road in the last year alone? After all, the dizzying high-altitude outpost of La Paz remains well-stocked with options for those craving excitement; at 3,660 metres in elevation, a walk amongst the sky-high labyrinthine streets and local markets can become a breathless challenge in itself! Nearby, looming mountains and glaciers entice outdoor enthusiasts, whilst nightlife junkies can dine out and guzzle on at the infamous cocaine bar, called Route 36, and the city’s never-ending party scene. So what makes the Death Road so enticing?

Originating at the 4,650-metre La Cumbra pass, the road connects La Paz to northern Bolivia’s Amazon, descending through 69 kilometres (43 miles) of awe-inspiring rainforest scenery to arrive at the sleepy town of Coroico. The road itself is no wider than 3.2 metres at any stage and the lack of guardrails covering the 600-metre precipitous drops means that there is no room for error when negotiating its hairpin bends.

The group of riders takes a break on the Death Road of Bolivia to dangle their legs into the void of a 600m drop.

Sadly, accidents on the road have been commonplace. On 24 July 1983, a tourist bus fell into the canyon and over 100 passengers died in Bolivia’s worst ever road accident. The road eventually achieved its worldwide notoriety in 1995 when the Inter-American Bank christened it “The World’s Most Dangerous Road.” According to one estimate, it has claimed between 200 and 300 lives per year.

Then, in 1998, Kiwi backpacker Alistair Matthew and a British friend raced down the road and revelled in the intoxicating combination of beautiful scenery and imminent danger. He then started the first company, Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking, to offer tourists the chance to cycle down the World’s Most Dangerous Road. Now there is a multitude of tour agencies offering the same thrill, all with varying degrees of quality and safety; no backpacker wants to miss out. Make no mistake, it’s big business, and you can expect to pay the price of a week’s accommodation to get a decent bike and guide to offer you the chance to die!

The author, pictured in protective gear, stands next to the precipitous drop that marks the edge of the Death Road, Bolivia.

Although these days the road permits only one-way traffic and the surface is much improved, racing down it still gets the juices flowing. The road surface is still little more than a bumpy dirt track with large stones and mud pockets ready to catch the unsuspecting cyclist off guard. The weather is also unpredictable; a combination of clouds, rain, fog and dust makes visibility extremely poor, masking the 600-metre drop into oblivion. Even an experienced cyclist would have to have a hard heart not to quiver at the number of gravestones lining the descent, reminding those alive of those not so fortunate. And the deaths have not dried up: at least 18 backpackers have died since tours down the Death Road started, meaning the decision to tackle those precipitous drops should not be taken lightly. One wrong turn, one wayward rock, one unseen bump, and it could all go badly wrong.

So what’s it like? Awesome! The myth-like status of the road, the ever-present danger, the dizzying elevation, the beautiful landscape and the camaraderie of tackling something together with fellow bikers means it really is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Depending on the weather and time of the day, you are more than likely to start the descent in clouds, and the sheer extents of the drops and beauty of the scenery will only become apparent as you ride down. When the clouds eventually clear, you can see why the route is not so popular.

Lush vegetation clings to the almost sheer cliff face that towers above and below the narrow lane of Bolivia's Death Road.

The attraction of two wheels means you can breathe in the landscape whenever you like, stopping between the crosses marking those who have fallen off to admire a series of stunning waterfalls and seductive precipices. Brave bikers are gifted some incredible photo opportunities; the greenery stretching into the distance makes a refreshing change from the rock hue of La Paz. Once you become settled, the experience is more of a beautiful scenic route with a health and safety warning, rather than a terrifying, death-defying spiral into doom. Experienced mountain bikers will not see what all the fuss is about, but for the excitable novice, the ride really is a thrill a minute.

Most tour agencies offer the chance at the bottom of the Death Road to relax in Coroico and have a well-earned lunch and beer with fellow thrill-seekers. You can spend the night or get the bus back to La Paz, T-shirts emblazoned with the coveted phrase. Upon finishing – if you are so lucky – spare a thought for the fallen. That’s before the combination of altitude and adrenaline takes you through the non-stop celebration in La Paz! It might be dangerous, but it’s a must. On yer bikes, travellers!

A view of the stunning Bolivian countryside that lies far below the Death Road.

Like the monolithic 'el Fraile' (the Monk) in the Kalasaya Temple in Tiwanaku, some of the statues at Tiwanaku, Bolivia, have withstood the test of time. Other stones used to build the main structures have been looted over the years, but the impressive site is still of great spiritual, historical and cultural significance. Photo courtesy of wikimedia/Fulsen

Tiwanaku, Bolivia

The city of Tiwanaku (alternative spelling Tiahuanaco) is located at 4,000 metres above sea level in the mountains near the southern shore of Bolivia’s famous Lake Titicaca.The area was home to a pre-Incan society that survived from 1600 BC to 1200 AD; it is considered the cradle of Andean civilisation. The Incas that later colonised the region apparently believed that the ancient Tiwanaku was built by the god Viracocha, who rose from the depths of the lake and created the first humans. Hailed as the Stonehenge of the Americas, the monumental remains of this great culture have been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site and include several temples, a pyramid, symbolic gates, monoliths and mysterious face carvings.

On June 21st each year, around 5000 people congregate in Tiwanaku to celebrate the summer solstice at the Aymara Indians’ New Year, called Machaj Mara. Popular with followers of New Age religions from around the world, the highlight of the festival is sunrise, when the rays of the sun shine through the temple entrance on the eastern side of the complex. Then it’s time to party. Locals in colourful ceremonial clothing and visitors celebrate together by drinking singani (Bolivian grape brandy similar to pisco), chewing coca leaves, sacrificing llamas and dancing until dawn.

The stunning natural setting of Ulpotha is one of its great attractions. The eight-acre site by a small lake at the base of the Galgiriwiya mountains is considered sacred land, associated with Lord Kataragama, an incarnation of the son of Shiva. The area's seven hills feature in ancient spiritual lore.

Ulpotha, Sri Lanka

The traditional working eco-village of Ulpotha is hidden in an exquisite, secluded, wooded dell at the foot of the Galgiriyawa mountains, about a two-hour drive northwest of Kandy in Sri Lanka. The village has been a pilgrimage site for thousands of years and is now a yoga, spa and Ayurveda retreat open to guests for part of the year.

Ulpotha has been nominated for numerous awards over the years and regularly makes it onto lists of the world’s best spas compiled by glossy magazines, television shows and travel websites. Guests can avail themselves of Ayurveda therapies and yoga classes led by practiced experts, although taking part in these activities is by no means compulsory; anyone preferring to relax and enjoy the beautiful surroundings and delectable vegan cuisine can do just that.

The retreat is run as a non-profit and all proceeds from paying guests go to support the locals who manage the attached self-sustaining organic farm and staff the facility when it is open. Other on-site ventures include a biodiverse organic farm, reforestation of village and surrounding land and a free Ayurvedic clinic open year round to villagers (it treats over 100 patients a week).

The statue of Mary, erected in 2001 in Medjugorje, Bosnia & Herzegovina, to mark the 20th anniversary the vision of the Virgin Mary, is located on Apparition Hill, where the event was first witnessed by six Croation children on June 24, 1981. Thousands of pilgrims climb the hill every year, chanting the rosary as they go. Photo courtesy of wikimedia/Beemwej

Medjugorje, Bosnia & Herzegovina

Launched onto the spiritual travel map in the summer of 1981 when six children saw an apparition of the Virgin Mary, the small town of Medjugorje, Bosnia & Herzegovina, nestled in the hills close to Mostar and the border with Croatia, has become a premier pilgrimage site for Catholics. Once a community of only 400 inhabitants, mostly farmers, the village now caters to visitors from around the world.

Millions have visited the hallowed spot on the mountainside, now called Apparition Hill, keen to worship at the site of the vision. The local church, St James’s, offers Mass in more than 10 languages, including Croatian, Italian, Spanish and English, in addition to a daily prayer service in the evening and there are plenty of tours and accommodation for the faithful.

Medjugorje literally translates as ‘area between two mountains,’ and the location is simply stunning, so even for the non-religious, there is plenty of distraction. The surrounding area is densely forested and boasts picturesque waterfalls, vineyards (the local wine is not to be missed) and plenty of sleepy villages. One word of advice: accommodation often books up quickly, so it is advisable to check ahead with the whl.travel local connection to avoid disappointment.

The Great Mosque of Kairouan, also known as the Mosque of Uqba, was built by the Arab general Uqba ibn Nafi from 670 AD. It covers an area of 9,000 square metres and is considered the oldest place of worship in the western Islamic world, as well as a model for all later mosques in the Maghreb. Photo courtesy of wikimedia/Patrick Giraud

Kairouan, Tunisia

Situated in northern Tunisia, the thousand-year-old city of Kairouan is often regarded as the fourth holiest city in Islam after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem. As the oldest Muslim place of worship in Africa, the Great Mosque of Kairouan (first built in 670 AD) has been an important place of pilgrimage for centuries for Muslims, especially those not able to make the long Hajj; it is said that seven trips to Kairouan are equal to one trip to Mecca.

The name Kairouan actually means ‘caravan,’ which is a reference to the city’s beginnings as a stopping place for the desert-trade caravans on the lucrative trans-Sahara trade route. It was turned into an Islamic religious centre in 694 and only Muslims were allowed to enter its walls until relatively recently. As a result it was seen as an outpost of Islam and seat of Muslim scholarship, protecting the faith against the surrounding Jewish and Christian communities.

Although non-Muslims are not allowed inside the mosque, the doors are kept open to allow visitors to see inside and tours to the holy city can be arranged through the whl.travel local connection in Hammamet, an hour’s drive away.

Ahu Tongariki is the largest ahu (stone platform) on Easter Island. Its moai were toppled during the island's civil wars and in the 20th century the ahu was swept inland by a tsunami. It has since been restored with 15 moai, including an 86-tonne monolith that was the heaviest ever erected on the island. All the moai here face sunset during the summer solstice. Photo courtesy of wikimedia/Rivi

Easter Island, Chile

Considered to be the world’s most remote inhabited island, Easter Island (otherwise known as Rapa Nui) in the southeast Pacific may have become a part of Chile in the late 1800s, but it is very much Polynesian at heart. This World Heritage Site is famed for the hundreds of towering volcanic stone statues, known as moai, dotted around the island and positioned on massive stone platforms called ahu.

Easter Island is also one of the most mystical places on earth, as so much of its history is shrouded in mystery: why and how were the moai built (they can weigh up to 75 tonnes and measure up to 10 metres in length) and what decimated the civilisation that built them? Locals believe the monoliths represent deceased ancestors. Because of this visitors can look, but, out of respect, mustn’t touch. Some experts suggest that Easter Island is an important point on a grid of sacred sites spanning the globe and it may have originally been settled purely because of the significance of its location. As with everything else concerning the island’s origins, though, nothing has yet been proven!

Leaf Peeping in South Korea

‘Leaf peepers’ have plenty of places from which to choose to lose themselves in a dazzling swirl of red and gold. Despite the name, this is not some seedy voyeuristic pastime; rather it’s the wholesome autumnal treat of checking out the colours of the changing leaves. The New England states of the USA are perhaps the most famous locale for spotting fall foliage, but there other notable places off the well-trodden leaf-peeping path. South Korea is quickly gaining a reputation for spectacular autumn colours that rival its more famous neighbour, Japan. Called danpoong in Korean, the annual September-to-November leaf season is a big draw for locals and visitors alike, and with regular danpoong updates from around the country made by the Korean Meteorological Administration, it’s easy not to miss the spectacle!

Jirisan is considered one of the most important mountains in South Korea and the beautiful autumn foliage season begins here in mid-October. By the end of November, the leaves have all turned a deep shade of crimson. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia/eimoberg.

Leafy mountainous areas such as Mt. Halla on Cheju-do Island are the best places to get your fill of fall foliage, but even the capital, Seoul, with its tree-lined streets, has a fair share of wow factor. The UNESCO World Heritage Site of Changdeokgung Palace boasts a number of beautiful landscaped gardens that are home to hundreds of varieties of trees. The autumnal explosion of colour makes for a very popular day trip, so be prepared to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ with up to 3,500 other eager peepers a day.

Fungi Foraging in Belarus

Mushroom picking is very popular right across the European continent when the cooler, wetter autumn months see these tasty little fellas popping up all over the place like, well…like mushrooms. Hordes of pickers head out to the forests, wicker baskets in tow, to claim their bounty. Much like its neighbours of Russia, Poland, Ukraine, Lithuania and Latvia, the former Soviet state of Belarus is big on mushrooming and these fruits of the forest figure heavily in the local diet.

The Berezinsky Biosphere Reserve of Belarus is home to over 463 species of mushroom. Its delicate ecosystem also boasts nearly a thousand plant species, many not found elsewhere in Europe, and a thriving animal population including many rare and endangered species such as lynx, wolf, bison and bear. Photo courtesy of www.berezinsky.com

Berezinsky Biosphere Reserve, about 120 kilometres from the capital, Minsk, is one of five national parks in Belarus recognised and supported by UNESCO. Set up in 1925 to protect rare animal species in the north of the country, Berezinsky is a pristine environment of forests, bogs, reservoirs and meadows, as well as a fungi-foraging paradise. However, its special land status means that mushroom and berry picking are strictly limited to designated areas on the outer edges of the reserve, close to the villages. Day trips can easily be arranged from Minsk, but novice ‘shroomers should always go with an experienced local, or, at the very least, use a reference book for guidance.

Mountain Biking in Bolivia

The charmingly named Camino de la Muerte or ‘Road of Death’ links the Bolivian capital of La Paz with the small town of Coroico in Yungas, three hours away. The road has earned its cheery moniker on account of the huge vertical drops, hairpin bends, narrow passes and worryingly high number of fatalities that make it stand out in a country already not known for its road safety.

Despite being described by the Inter-American Development Bank as the world’s most dangerous road, the precipitous road from La Paz to Coroico in Bolivia sees thousands of tourists each year hurl themselves down it. With sheer drops, steep descents, some pretty rough terrain in parts and the possibility of sharing your narrow strip of turf with an oncoming truck, the potential for disaster keeps the punters coming back for more!

A rite of passage for cycling enthusiasts, backpackers and adrenaline junkies from all over the world, the route is now well served by tour companies that provide bikes, safety gear, guides, refreshments and lunch along the way. The five-hour tour begins at La Cumbre, 4,700 metres above sea level, before plunging down 1,200 metres along the cliff edge. At the bottom is some well-deserved R & R, as well as a souvenir T-shirt proudly stating ‘I Survived the Road of Death.’

The mellow colonial town of Coroico is welcome too as a place to unwind after the big-city bustle of La Paz. Coroico is situated on the outskirts of the Amazon rainforest and enjoys warm weather and clear blue skies in marked contrast to the harsher, chillier conditions of Bolivia’s Altiplano. A popular weekend getaway, Coroico is pleasantly quiet at other times, when bargain hunters can easily find discounted accommodation. In addition, September and October, when the weather is cool, dry and sunny, are ideal times to visit, sandwiched as they are between the peak-tourist and rainy seasons.

Whale Watching in the Cook Islands

The Cook Islands of Raratonga, Atiu, Mangaia, Mauke and Mitiaro are ideally situated in the path of migrating humpback whales headed to their summer feeding grounds off the coast of New Zealand and the Antarctic. In October it’s therefore possible to watch these majestic creatures breaching and cavorting at the reef’s edge. As the reef is often as close as 10 metres to shore, a beachside sun lounge may be the best viewing platform, thus leaving the animals undisturbed.

The second-most-visited island in the Cook Islands, Aitutaki is surrounded by reef and and is famous for its stunning turquoise lagoon and endless white-sand beaches. It is only 45 minutes from Raratonga by plane.

Also worth mention is Aitutaki Lagoon, 220 kilometres north of Raratonga on the island paradise of Aitutaki. The turquoise waters boast a rainbow display of fish, as well as eagle rays, giant clams and turtles. Day trips can be arranged from Raratonga on planes that depart several times a day.

Mountain Climbing in Tanzania

Flush against Tanzania‘s northern border with Kenya, just over 200 miles south of the equator, Mt. Kilimanjaro – Africa’s highest peak and the tallest freestanding mountain in the world – is at its best in September and October. Temperatures are pleasantly warm, rain and cloud cover are minimal and the views are excellent as a result. Plus, the number of people attempting to scale the 5,895-metre peak becomes a mere trickle in October, which is great news for solitary soul-searchers. There are nine ways up the ‘Roof of Africa,’ with the Marangu Route offering the most in the way of comfort, including shops and sleeping huts. Hardcore climbers may prefer the Umbwe Route – no beds or beer on this path, but the overnights in caves will still seem pretty enticing after a hard day’s hike!

Comprising three inactive volcanic cones, Mt. Kilimanjaro is not only the highest mountain in Africa, but one of the most celebrated peaks in the world. Around 22,000 climbers attempt the ascent every year, with 40% never making it to Uhuru peak, 5,893 metres above sea level. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia/Muhammad Mahdi Karim

Tanzania has plenty of other tricks up its sleeve during September and October, with diving and sailing on Zanzibar, and game viewing on the mainland all at their best. The coastal winds taper off, which means it’s a good time to hit the beaches near Dar Es Salaam (or even Kenya’s Mombasa), and the drier weather means animals tend to congregate around water sources. To catch the latter, in addition to nearby game drives in the World Heritage-listed Selous Game Reserve (Africa’s largest protected game reserve) or the Mikumi and Udzungwa Mountain national parks, a definite must-see is the migration from the north of Tanzania to the Maasai Mara in Kenya, when thousands of wildebeest and zebra cross the Mara River. One of the greatest wildlife shows on earth!

Having noted the presence of facial hair on some of the Monoliths of Tiwanaku, in Bolivia – an enigma given the absence of beards in contemporary Andean people – Heyerdahl repeatedly set out to test the hypothesis that the natives had not only sailed across Lake Titicaca, but also across the ocean and made contact with people of a different race, specifically the Polynesian islanders of the South Pacific. His remarkable successes have offered one explanation to another curiosity he noted: the discovery of endemic South American plants, such as tobacco and coca leaves at Ramses’ tomb in Egypt.

The ancient civilisations of Bolivia, such as the Tiwanaku, Chiripa and the Inca, were known to have navigated on Lake Titicaca using reed boats. There are some theories, however, that the huge stone blocks at Tiwanaku were brought  to the site on this kind of boat from at least 170 kilometres away. Sailing from the extreme northern part of the lake, the Tiwanaku would either have had to make numerous trips for the challenging project or have built several reed boats for the transportation.

Using the same boat-building techniques and boats, Heyerdahl undertook his most famous expedition, Kon-Tiki, sailing from Callao, Peru, to the Tahiti Islands. ‘Kon-Tiki’ is also the name of the curious bearded monolith which inspired him; it can still  be found in the middle of the Semi Underground temple at the Tiwanaku archaeological site. Heyerdahl’s boat’s sail – today displayed at the Kon-Tiki Museum in Oslo – has a picture of the face of this controversial monolith.

Demetrio, whose hands are pictured above, was part of Heyerdahl’s famous boat-building team. Following successful completion of the Kon-Tiki expedition, Heyerdahl wanted more, so he arranged other projects. Ra I was Heyerdahl’s first attempt to cross the Atlantic from Morocco. In 1969, the boat made in Chad with local technologies and local materials such as papyrus foundered. The following year, Heyerdahl arranged a contest at the small Bolivian Island called Suriki on Lake Titicaca and discovered four brilliant boat makers: Paulino Esteban, Demetrio Limachi and his two younger brothers. This foursome led construction of Ra II, which completed the Atlantic journey; the Tigris, which in 1977  demonstrated that trade and migration could have have been possible between Mesopotamia and the Indus Valley Civilizations; and many others.

A reed boat is fully made by hand. As the picture shows, straw is woven to create a very thin but resistant cord, which goes all the way from one end of the boat to the other. A regular boat of about four metres long and 1.5 metres wide can be made by one person in two weeks, but the huge boats, such as those used by Heyerdahl, took more than three months to complete by a team of at least 10 people. The life of one of these boats is no longer than one year, since it starts decomposing and gradually disappears – a fully biodegradable navigation system.

Unfortunately, this ancient art is in danger of becoming a lost art, since only a few people still make such boats, and usually only for touristic purposes. Fortunately, Demetrio, who, along with his brothers, was in 1990 recognised as an honoured citizen by the Bolivian Government, has passed on his wisdom to his nephew, Fermin Limachi, who strives to maintain the family art. Fermin actively participates in important traditional craft projects around the world, such as the Aboras 1, 2 and 3 and, in the near future, Abora 4. You can read more about the project on www.abora3.com.