VIDEO: The Gringo (2002)

In this eight part series, I take THE GRINGO TRAIL through South America. Starting in BUENOS AIRES, I have a quick look around URUGUAY and CHILE before heading up to BRAZIL just in time to miss the 2002 World Cup Final. But I didn't miss the party afterwards!! Then I head over to Bolivia, the most BRILLIANT country in the WORLD (and I should know, I've been to a few!). From the salt plains of UYUNI to the rivers of the AMAZON RAINFOREST via the Health and Safety-baiting Silver Mines of POTOSI and the CAMINO DE LA MUERTE (the Road of Death), Bolivia is just a powerhouse of nutty hilarity from beginning to end. After hitting the INCA TRAIL to MACHU PICCHU, I head up through PERU and ECUADOR and end my journey in Bogota, COLUMBIA, one of the most dangerous capital cities in the world.…

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Day 4: The Milkfloat

04.01.09: Arrived, shaken but not stirred, in Oruro, Bolivia. I felt the best course of action was to find out when the first bus for Chile left - 11.30am - and find a place to sleep for a couple of hours. Did that, but it's hard to sleep when the hotel you've chosen (Copacabana, pop pickers) is overrun by noisy children in the courtyard playing at being pneumatic drills. So I gave up trying to sleep and headed over to an Internet café to try and make contact with the outside world. After I had wasted enough time trying to get youporn to work, I grabbed a taxi back to the bus station. I thought I'd check how many pounds there are to the Chilean whatever, so I reached for my copy of Lonely Planet... Damn! Left it in the goddamn Internet café. And how to…

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Day 3: On The (Bolivian) Buses

03.01.09: Another very early morning and after joining me on the bus to San Salvador De Jujuy (pronounced HooHoy, which is something I'd expect Mr Burns to say when he answers the phone) Carlos disembarked to get on with his life.  I, meanwhile, trooped on to the border with Bolivia. The queue to get across the border was eye watering.  There must have been at least 700 people in the queue and ONE, yes ONE, guy with the rubber exit stamp.  Okay - so I pushed in.  Don't blame me - this is for charity!  At least that's my excuse.  But somewhere in the back of my mind is an unshakable belief that queuing is for chumps. An Argentine girl got a little ratty with me, so I pretended (somewhat unconvincingly) to be Russian.  While waiting for my Bolivian entry stamp, I got chatting with a…

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