Our luggage is safely stored under a plastic sheet on top of the bus and we take our seats. On the way out of La Paz our luck changes as the traffic grinds to a halt, in an effort to make progress our driver changes the single bi-directional road into a one-way dual carriage. A couple of hundred yards on the source of the now gridlocked traffic is revealed: a student demonstration has blocked the roads into / out of La Paz. The atmosphere is calm, but with an menacing undercurrent, stone-throwing sized rubble litters the street and men with hard-hats and masks remonstrate with members of the public - there's not a policeman in sight.

Our bus driver evaluates his options - he has a timetable to keep to, even if it is Bolivian, and edges up to the small barricade where he gets out and talks to the demonstrators. Returning he executes a three-point turn and checks out a narrow partially cobbled track up a steep hill (to paraphrase a famous tennis player) - "you cannot be serious". Fortunately traffic is descending the track and trying to negotiate the now grid-locked one-way dual carriageway - this is a temporary delay. A brief discussion between the driver and the passengers, something along the lines of:
Driver: "Shall I give it a go?"
Passenger: "Yea, what have we got to lose?
Will and Claire: "Our lives."

The other passengers disembark and after some encouragement we follow suit and walk up the hill. The driver revs the bus' engine, slips the clutch and gives it everything its got. At least we'll only lose our luggage rather than our lives, the bus bounces up the track, wheels spinning and lose stones pinging out. As we climb the hill our lungs burn as the need for oxygen from the thin air cannot be fulfilled, we reach the bus gasping and coughing, dismayed that the 80 year old Bolivian gent in front of us is barely out of breath. The bus negotiates the track back to the main road on the other side of the roadblock and we're away. The remaining journey is relatively uneventful, we disembark once more after three hours to catch a small launch across a strait on the lake, before boarding again to continue our journey.

Copacabana is a small town with relaxed feel - much needed after La Paz, we check in, drop our bags and wander down to the small beach to enjoy a drink and watch the sunset. Some tourists walk up the beach and we spot Deidrik and Annaleise, say hi and chat about their stay in Copacabana and our trip from La Paz. They convince us to walk around the headlined and stay the night on the Isla del Sol. In the evening we meet up for a meal of trout at a local restaurant and a few glasses of wine to discuss our travel plans for the next couple of weeks, the possibility of meeting up in Cusco for the Inca Trail and whether the restaurants in Peru serve Guinea Pig - I'm game.