The overnight bus from La Paz to Potosi was meant to arrive at 7am. Unfortunately, just when I got comfortable, we were rudely woken up at 4am and dumped on the side of the road on a dodgy street. The taxi ride was about as scary as our first taxi from Lima airport. We decided to trust the driver but made whispered plans to grab our day packs and get out of there in the event of any bad shite going down. We were cruising dark alleys with sinister-looking characters walking around. Luckily our hotel manager was used to random bus arrivals and when we signed in we noticed a bunch of other names signing in anywhere from midnight to 6am. Interestingly, the place was called Koala Den but when we mentioned we were from Australia they smiled brightly at us and said "Kangaroo". Emphasis on the Gar bit. No recognition of the Koala-Australia connection. Strange. The in room heater and hot water in our private bathroom made this place one of our favourites and it was cheap!!Anyways, this was to be the city that surprised us with its awesomeness and we didn't want to leave. A 2 day stopover turned into a 4 day sojourn when we were handed a flyer for a local Bolivian Bon Jovi cover band. We added another day to our stay and booked in for the Silver mines tour the following morning. I had heard about the tour a few times and everyone had recommended the tour run by this particular hostel. I was reassured that the dark, crawling part was limited to a couple minutes and so I was on board. Amit was keen regardless. He's the daredevil!
Breakfast was awesome! Freshly brewed coffee, scrambled eggs, toast and fruit. Winner, winner, chicken dinner. When the tour dudes called our names, I felt sick. I've never thought of myself as claustrophobic but there I was freaking out! We had to put on some over-sized jumpsuits and ridiculous torch helmets and then hit the markets to pick up the "goods" for the miners. We bought them 2L bottles of soft drink, bags of coca leaves and dynamite. Plus got a whiff of the 90% proof alcohol that they sometimes drink. Hectic.
Our bus dropped us out the front of the mine. The entrance was as tall as me and from there we had to crouch-walk into a little cave area where we paid our respects to the devil. Apparently the local miners do this because they are superstitious about going underground which would be considered the territory of the devil. This cave area was called the "museum". We then crouch-walked for another 10 minutes with strict instructions not to touch the electricity cables running overhead. I had my newly purchased wet hankie tied over my face to filter out the dust and smell of dynamite. I discovered later that putting a wet cloth over your face is a form of torture somewhere. At this point I was already hyperventilating. Lame. When we arrived at a hole in the wall I was appalled to realize that we were about to crawl through it into darkness for the next 5 minutes. I got my waist into the hole before I panicked and got back out! I sat and talked with another guide in broken Spanish for about 10 mins while waiting for the assigned guide to walk me back out of the mine. Amit went down with the rest of the group, crawling into the second level where you could stand and then crawling down to a third level where there was a solitary 17-year old minor 
working a 14 hour shift on a Saturday in the dark. Crazy no? Amit told me later that they sat on the third level in the bowels of the mountain with all their torches off for a minute; the absolute absence of light was freaky. BTW, I know it doesn't look that dark in our photos but unfortunately the camera flash kinda killed the creepy mood of the place. Can I just say that every time I closed my eyes for the next three days I thought I was back there. No I'm not just being dramatic. I'm not even enjoying writing this. The things I do for our readers.So back to me. My friendly guide has been replaced by new younger but much less sociable guide. He gestures for me to follow him out and I'm so glad to be moving. Sitting hunched over in a tiny tunnel in the dark was seriously starting to freak me out. I follow the new dude for about 10 minutes back to the devil/cave/museum place. He grunts for me to wait outside. He goes inside and leaves me alone for about a minute. Panic rising. He comes back with a rifle. Yes. A rifle. He hands it to me and in a split second I suspect that I'm going to carry the gun to the spot where he will shoot me and dump my body. Panic reaching crescendo. He then laughs and takes it back. I follow him out and can't remember whether we're walking the way we came, towards the clean, fresh outside air. I slip and grab onto a electricity cable for balance. Miraculously I am not electrocuted. I see a tiny sliver of light in the distance and want to weep for joy. When I get outside I am tempted to kiss the ground, reminiscent of previous celebrations following the conclusion of Duke of Ed hikes in high school. I wait anxiously for Amit to come back out and watch the bus driver and creepy guide play with what turned out to be a broken old rifle. Still. When the rest of the tour group resurface they are coughing and spluttering and covered in soot. Following recovery, we got to throw around a stick of lit dynamite and then watch while it was raced over a hill by a guide. The explosion was tres cool. The moral of the story kids: don't take rifles from strangers in dark Bolivian mines.
The next day we made friends with some nice people in our hostel and hit up the nicest restaurant in town before heading over to Bon Jovi cover band venue. We were thrilled to learn that the opening act was actually an Aerosmith cover band. Don't wanna miss a thing and Jaded were highlights. When the Bon Jovi act came on it was 3am and we had to leave during Bed of Roses which we proceeded to belt out whilst walking the streets of Potosi. Quick trip to late night fries stall and our night was a success. Late finish resulted in late start the next day and just one more night in this surprisingly cool town. We walked to the bus station to book our tickets to Uyuni, requiring a Resident Evil-esque dodging of rabid dogs. Thus ends the tale of the Potosi silver mines.
Next up - the salt flats and beautiful landscapes of southern Bolivia
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