Corico smells like honey pancakes

It really does. After two days in La Paz, which smells like any city in a developing country (too many people, festering rubbish, petrol and cooking oil), the countryside three hours east of the city smells like honey pancakes. I assume there is a South American variety of honeysuckle which lollops across the verges and gives the whole area this pleasingly pungent aroma. The ecolodge we are staying in is absolutely stunning - we are set into the hillside (the climb to our cabana is literally breathtaking, due to forty stairs in an oxygen starved country), but goodness is it worth it. We have one room with a bed, fridge and tiny stove, an outside seating area, an outdoor bathroom and a balcony. The water comes from a natural spring, so is drinkable and the shower is warmed by the sun throughout the day. There is the most spectacular view from our balcony, with rolling hills and distant snow capped mountains. We watch wheeling birds visit peculiar hanging nests as the morning mist drifts lazily below us. As Nick sat on his deckchair with a cervesa (beer) in hand, he declared that this was the moment he would come back to in the future when life got all life-y. I have to say that I agree.  

The next day we got up early to see the cascadas (waterfalls) on a three hour hike (thank you Tyler, Mark, Alice and Duncan). We walked along a track which looked out onto the stunning view of the hills as the sun beat down on us. Of course, we smelled the honey pancakes the whole way. The road passed many minor waterfalls (which we took advantage of to cool our feet) but none could compare to the waterfall we finished at. It was hundreds of metres high and tumbled lacksidasically through lush green vegetation, gently showering us with welcome droplets. We paddled in the pool underneath the waterfall (we didn't swim though - the water was too cold for full body immersion) before catching a local bus home.

Waterfall walk

Cascada

Biggest Cascada