Ahhhh Coroico, home of intensive coca leaf farming, fabulous mountain scenery, jungle wildlife and...Klaus Barbie, Nazi war criminal, now dead. After the bum-bouncing exertions of the World´s Most Dangerous Road, Coroico proved to be the perfect antidote for 7 knackered cyclists: a small, non-touristy town with friendly locals and a couple of laid back bars. Better still, we opted for $30 luxury with a huge suite, balcony overlooking the jungle, swimming pool, sauna and garden full of hammocks. Bliss!
So we stayed for a week playing Scouse Rules Pool (i.e. giving him money), cards and doing lots of Irish Rules drinking.
Feeling guilty for our lack of cultural enlightenment, we hiked out along a mountain ridge and through farmland to a couple of jungley waterfalls with deep but FREEZING cold pools where we had a breathtakingly refreshing dip. We later discovered the pools provide the town with their water supply. Hmmm, sweaty gringo-flavoured drinking water.
The bus back to La Paz apparently took the "New Road" completed late last year, but with vast untarmac'ed sections, massive rock falls and virtually zero visabilty due to fog (no deterrent to overtaking for our crazy driver), this journey proved to be FAR scarier than the old road we´d ridden down. Especially as the bus was built around 1950 and hadn´t been serviced since!
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