As Potosí was only a few hours from Sucre, we hired private taxis to complete the short journey.  The views along the way were simply spectacular as we drove further and further up into the mountains, and we even passed the remains of a colonial Spanish bridge and fort over a thundering red river.  Potosi is the highest city in the world at 4070 m and was made a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1987, in recognition of its tragic history in the mining of silver during the time of Spanish colonisation.  By the time we arrived it was early afternoon, so after a quick lunch in a small café on the main plaza, we all prepared ourselves for our afternoon trip into the famous silver mines.     The mines are set below the massive Cero Rico (Rich Hill), which overlooks the city.  Potosi provided a large share of the silver mined and shipped back to Spain until the early 1800s, when both the supply of silver and world market prices began to decline.  It is said that silver taken out of Cerro Rico propped up the Spanish empire for over 300 years!!!  Working conditions for miners were appalling and a large proportion of the indigenous population were wiped out.  African slaves were brought in to replace the native workers and it is estimated that as many as 8 million indigenous people and Africans died in the mines during the first three centuries of Spanish colonial rule.  With this in mind, we got kitted out to experience life in the mines for ourselves.  After donning hard-hats, dust/waterproof overalls and wellies (very attractive!), we were led by our female tour-guide (!) to the local market to buy gifts for the miners, although these weren't just ordinary gifts!!!  We bought cocoa leaves, cinnamon cigarettes, 96% proof alcohol (yes really), biscuits and?dynamite!!  Our tour-guide explained that the miners were all men (women are prohibited from working in the mines), most of whom were carrying on with the family trade.  They worked long hours and passed the whole day without eating, helped by chewing the cocoa leaves which suppress appetite and fatigue, and increase mental concentration.  On their short breaks, they would smoke the cinnamon cigarettes and drink the ridiculously strong alcohol.     There were boys as young as 12 years old in the mines and the biscuits were for them, since they performed much less strenuous tasks, needed some food,  and weren't quite ready for the harsh mix of cocoa leaves, alcohol and cigarettes.  The life expectancy for miners is very short (around 40 years) and can be shortened even more by the type of work they do.    Wages differ depending on the type of work, with foremen earning more than simple miners (60 bolivianos a week), and those who detonated explosions earning the most (120 bolivianos a week), the price being the shortest life expectancy of all the miners (around 30 years).   All miners had the potential to earn more money by working longer hours and/or mining greater quantities of silver, however, the Bolivian currency is very weak (15 bolivianos to the pound) and the miners are therefore still earning next to nothing by western standards. We entered into the mines and the following two hours were somewhat of an enlightening experience.  The mines were dark, damp and cramped and it was hard to imagine being trapped in there all day.  The air was thick with the smell of smoke from dynamite explosions and it is no wonder many of the miners eventually die from respiratory disorders.  Above our heads were planks of wood to prevent the collapse of the ceilings, none of which looked all that secure,  and as we followed the twists and turns deeper into the mines, we passed many large holes which we could easily have ended up at the bottom of with one wrong foot.  This led to the rather amusing shouts from our tour-guide of "hole on the left" or "hole on the right" every two minutes, which we passed back down the chain of people so that everyone knew where to step!  The first part of the mines was still fairly open and we passed a few miners along the way, who we gave our gifts to, and who were happy to stop for a little chat and show us some of the sparkling silver that they had mined.  We stopped in one cavern which contained statues of Pachamama (Mother Earth), a deity/spirit worshipped by the Bolivians, decorated with balloons and streamers, which we later saw in many other spots.  As it was Friday, the tradition dictated that everyone spill a little alcohol on the floor for Pachamama, before taking a sip themselves, and the miners believed that Pachamama would watch over them and protect them whilst they were in the mines.  We all indulged in the tradition, but we can safely say that Pachamama is welcome to as much of the alcohol as she wants, since it tastes like paint stripper, evaporates off your lips as soon as you begin to drink it, and burns your throat as it goes down!!   Whilst standing in another cavern, we heard miners exploding dynamite and the noise was absolutely phenomenal - you could literally feel the explosion resonate in your chest as the walls and floor shook around you.  We ventured on into another cavern, where a miner was quite animatedly talking to us all in English, whilst working his way through our gifts.  After a while it became apparent that he was a little on the drunk side, but he was amusing nonetheless as he recounted tales of his life in the mine and of his father who had worked there previously.  He told us in no uncertain terms that he had chosen this life for himself and that we should not feel sorry for him.  He came to work everyday and earnt enough money to support his family, and enjoyed his life in the mines working with the friends he had made there.  I think listening to him changed a lot of our perspectives about the miners, and afterwards we felt a greater respect towards them, despite bearing first-hand witness to the appalling conditions they faced daily.  The miner also took great delight in yelling out random English football teams at the boys, quoting the quirky t-shirts he had seen foreigners wearing, and informing us that although everyone thought Brazil was the best football team in the world, the Bolivian national team had beaten them in a friendly the day before.   We continued on to another cavern, where we were next to yet more explosions, and again the noise was deafening and heart-stopping.  When they had finished, we saw the detonating miners leaving and their faces were BLACK with soot.  The image was somewhat haunting and it wasn't hard to see why these workers had the shortest life expectancy of all.  We scrambled through the mine for a further half our or so, this time going even deeper in, where the ceilings were noticeably lower and the passageways more narrow.  We found ourselves having to actually climb in and out of small spaces and across large drops, which was both difficult and terrifying, but gave a much better idea of what the miners have to go through each and every single day. Safely back outside, we had one stick of dynamite left, which the tour guide was going to let us explode ourselves!!!  She nominated Chris for the job and after having the dynamite lit whilst he was still holding it, he went running off with our driver to the opposite face of the mountain to put it down!  His face was a picture and whole thing was absolutely hilarious as we watched them run, drop off the dynamite, and then run back to us.  It was a further minute or so before the explosion, but the noise, smoke and flash shocked us all!!  Naturally we videoed it, so keep a look out for the video which we shall be posting to the site soon! That evening we all headed out for another group dinner, where a few of us decided to try the local delicacy - llama meat!!  Marisha ordered a llama steak and it was pretty tasty, arriving in a yummy wine sauce, but a little rare for her liking!  Still, the general consensus around the table was that llama meat was edible!  Outside, there was a procession in the street full of dancing women, their traditional skirts billowing out as they spun around, and a small marching band of school boys including baton twirlers!!  It was fun to watch them as we walked, our bellies full, back to our hotel for bed! The next morning, the two of us were up early in an attempt to reach the viewpoint over the city.  Unfortunately, it was just too far, and we later learnt from Hannah (who had RUN up there) that the gate was closed anyway!!  Instead, lots of us headed off to the Royal Mint building where we had a lovely tour in English (hurrah!) from an American who had come to Bolivia with the Peace Corp and ended up staying.  The tour was very informative and the building was huge, encompassing the giant old coin presses, a collection of colonial weapons and costumes, mummies, and millions and millions of coins!  We felt a bit bad as the tour-guide was so lovely, but we had to leave just before the end of the tour as we were catching a bus to Uyuni that afternoon.  We needn't have worried though, as after arriving at the bus stop, we had to wait a further hour or so for our bus to arrive!  We ended up passing the time slumped on the sidewalk listening to the 80s tunes blaring out of the shop behind us!!  It was our first true taste of both Bolivian time-keeping and their obsession with 80s music!! Finally on board, we were all amazed to see just how many people were standing up, including old men and women, since it was a 7-9 hour journey (Bolivian timing means you can never quite be sure!!).  It was our first experience of the buses in Bolivia and it was just crazy.  Before we departed, there were hundreds of street-sellers climbing on and off the bus, offering us everything from food to socks and herbal medicines for our journey!!!  As if that wasn't entertaining enough, a small boy came on and started singing VERY BADLY at the top of his voice in Spanish for almost ten minutes, before going round with his hat asking people for money!!  Meanwhile, in an attempt to drown him out, Rakhee had tried to turn on her ipod only to find that it didn't work!!!!  She just kept getting a message saying 'contact Apple support' and with the prospect of a further three months without music, she was understandably distraught!!!  Eileen piped up and said that her ipod had stopped working too, and we quickly concluded that the altitude had somehow dislodged the internal disk, since the tracks just kept skipping and we could hear a clicking noise!  Unable to do anything about it, we settled into our seats and shared Marisha's ipod instead.   After all the hustle and bustle, we were finally on our way, and aside from being stopped by the police and having to get off the bus for ten minutes in the middle of nowhere (where the locals took great pleasure in using their mobile phones to film a few of the female members of our group trying to make a discrete loo trip!), passing a huge valley with a fast flowing river where people were washing their clothes, and some beautiful mountain scenery, it was a pretty uneventful journey on to Uyuni?.