Apparently yes. We cycled down the most dangerous road in the world (sic) which is affectionately called "the death road" (sick) in the worst weather imaginable.

As we sat waiting for the tourist agency staff to arrive, we assumed that they were working on the usual bolivian time. In actual fact they had got there in plenty of time and were busy preparing us breakfast, but we were waiting outside a different office which was two doors down. Hmm.

A minbus took us and a rooffull of bikes (with our rucksacks precariously balanced on top of them) to a point somewhere high up in the mountains. We all got kitted up in hats, gloves, jackets, and bikes and started the freewheel down on a tarmac road. We travelled for 20-30km without the need to pedal and with some absolutely stunning views. It was lots of fun and the sun was out and we all got rather complacent.

Then we hit the death road.

The road is a thin gravel path which clings to the side of a mountain boasting a 200km sheer drop if you miss.

The death road

Although vehicles drive on the right in bolivia the death road has special consideration. Vehicles drive on the left because the trucks which are coming up the hill are usually laden with many tons of fruit and if they were to go on the outside there is a chance that the road could give way under their weight. Not very reassuring...

Trucks attempting to pass each other

Another group were in front of us when we got to the top of the road and their guide gave them a good, serious speech about the dangers they were about to face and the security measures that were in place i.e. beeps and whistles to tell you that a car was coming and you should get out of the way. After they had left, one of our guides sat down and mumbled a few instructions that 2 or 3 people may have heard and then threw us down the hill into the fog which had built to such a thickness that we could only see up to 10 mtrs in front.

The road clings to the side of the cliff

Before long it had started to rain. Being a glasses wearer my vision was impaired somewhat so I had to rely on following other people to a certain extent. This made it even scarier. Then, as I approached our group who were waiting in a layby for a truck to pass, said truck suddenly came lurching round the corner and I had nowhere to run. I teetered on the edge of the road watching the massive corner of the bumper swing closer until it missed me by inches and I limped on towards the others. A guide came over and told me that it was alright, and that there hadn't been any danger which obviously meant that I was inches away from death and he was glad not to have lost another punter.

I was terrified.

As we descended, the weather got gradually worse. it began to hail. Just after we had had to wade through a waterfall which covered the entire road, the thunder and lightening began. Our Oz friend Jon was convinced that a bolt had hit the side of the road near him and as he cycled past he saw smoke rising up. The bikes were suffering. The brakes kept failing because of the wet and at a constant downhill pace it´s a little unnerving, and all I could see was a brown blob that was probably the road.

By some miracle we arrived in a small village and dripped into a cafe. I thought we were just having a break and when Giles told me that it was actually all over I hugged him and nearly cried. I was so relieved, I have never felt in so much danger in all my life! I swear I will never never never never never do anything like that again!

We made it!