High altitude? What high altitude?
Oct 02, 2005
Sep 28, 2006
We got off the plane to a grey, cold, overcast, rainy city. For a second I thought I was back in Belfast. Cailín had heard about a hostel here from an Australian girl who recomended it, so we just in a taxi and headed straight here. After walking up one flight of stairs to our room, it was obvious that this high altitude business was the real thing. It's like breathing through a straw. Even just standing is exhusting. Every so often (about once every 2 minutes!) we need to take a deep breath just to stop getting light headed and dizzy. It was agreed that it was a good idea to go for a wee siesta around 4 o'clock. It's now one in the morning, Cailín's still in bed and I've just got up to write this.