So, i spent about three days in San Pedro De Atacama with a very dodgy stomach. When i wasn't on the throne i was hanging out with a guy from Barcelona called Agustin and some chilean folk whose names escape me. They spoke very little english so my spanish was tested and despite me not knowing any past or future tense we got along ok and they humoured me by laughing at my jokes.
The only thing that seemed to break the curse of the Incas Revenge were several loperamide tablets, some plain rice and lots of agua. I felt brave enough to take on an excursion and so i signed up for a three day 4x4 tour of southern Bolivia and the Uyuni Salt Flats. In the group were a really nice Polish couple, a dutch couple, two japanese girls who didn't stop giggling, an Argentine girl, an Israeli and two old Polish Men. I drew the short straw and at the Chilean Bolivian border (where i nearly left without my passport) was put in the same van as the two old polish men.
The scenery over the first day was incredible. Lots of amazing lagunas, flamingos and a swim in a thermal pool. All this at over 4000m... i was wheezing like an old man, but thankfully there were no further symptoms of altitude sickness. The last stop of the day was at a Refugio in teh middle nowhere where i was grateful to have taken so many diarrhoea tablets as the non flushing banos looked like they'd had a curry club tour stopping through and no one had cleaned up after them.
This was also where the big fat older Polish man really started to get on everyones nerves. We sat down for lunch and then dinner and both times he took a third of the food which was to feed 11 people. Watching him eat he reminded me both in looks and mannerisms of the "alcholic, lecherous, violent and foul-mouthed elderly priest" Father Jack from Father Ted. He was probably the most selfish, disgusting and rude person I have ever met.
His unpleasant behaviour carried on for the next two days where he would get in the way of photos, eat all the food and snore and fart like a factory in the dorm room to name but a few things. I had a couple of run ins with him when his self centred greed got too much (e.g. when he took all the kosher food at breakfast knowing that Avi was a practicing Jew), but he was unrepentant. However, this brought the rest of the group together and we were never short of material to laugh about or a common thing to gripe at.
On the way back to the drop off point on the final day we stopped back at the Salt Museum as Jack needed the loo. However he refused to pay the 10p or didn't like the look of whole in the ground of a toilet he was ushered to and he got back in the truck with a huff. 10 minutes later the call of nature was too strong and the truck was ordered to stop and he got out. I foolishly turned round to speak to Peter in the back and the image of a very fat and very old nasty polish man crouching down having a poo was burned onto my retina. It was horrible but we all found it funny and were happy that he had his comeuppance I opened the window in the van as soon as he got back in as we were unconfident that he had any toilet paper.
Sadly, however, 15 minutes later he had the last laugh as, with a knowing grin, he shook our hands when we got back to town before any of us could think not too. Thankfully the argentine girl had some strong antiseptic hand wash, but i still took a scouring pad and some bleach into the shower when i got back to the hostel.
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