People often ask me, "What is your favorite country?" It's a question without an answer, because there isn't just one of them. On one hand, I'm reluctant to identify these places, because I selfishly love having them to myself. On the other hand, I would really enjoy seeing them get the attention they deserve. Generally, for me, the barometer is whether or not I have the desire to return someplace a second time. I almost always prefer to go somewhere new rather than spend time and money on something I've already seen.

Bolivia qualifies as a country I would love to visit again someday. But don't pack your bags just yet. This place is not for everybody. It's South America's poorest nation, and travelling through it requires a huge amount of patience and endurance. If you are one of those people who needs to be comfortable at all times, Bolivia is not for you. However, if you can tolerate high altitude, dilapidated roads, and unreliable transportation, you're in for quite a treat. I mean, where else can you get a basic hotel room for less than US$3.00? In the words of Lonely Planet: Bolivia, "The going isn't always easy, but the rewards are worth the effort."

Other than Paraguay, Bolivia is the only other landlocked country in South America. This is largely due to a series of lost wars in the late 1800's and the early 1900's. During that time, the nation lost their precious coastline to Chile, and it's been downhill ever since. Today, the average annual income in US$2,500, and 70% of the population lives below the poverty line.

This is an exciting time to be in Bolivia, and it's an exciting time to be a Bolivian. With the recent election of Evo Morales, you can almost feel it in the air that, well, things just might be getting better.

Evo Morales has taken the nation by storm. He is Bolivia's first indiginous president in a country where for 500 years indiginous people were underrepresented and had little power. So, if you're a supporter of democracy, he's the logical choice. On the other hand, he's the former leader of coca farmers, so he's not going to be your right-hand man if you are a supporter of the U.S. led drug war. If nothing else, his victory has given some badly-needed press to this long-ignored nation. Hey, Evo, here's your first job: pave the roads that connect all key towns in the south. If you can do that, I'll gladly chew some coca leaves with you...my treat!

From San Pedro de Atacama in Chile, I took a two-day trek though the breathtaking landscape of Southwestern Bolivia. This was arranged through Colque Tours. My guidebooks had stern warnings about serious problems on these trips -- ranging from drivers getting hopelessly lost, to broken down vehicles, to driver assaults. However, almost everyone I spoke with said their trip was flawless and breathtaking...except for the two women who said their vehicle's tailpipe broke, and everyone was projectile vomiting as a result of carbon monoxide poisoning.

I chose Colque because Let's Go: Chile recommended them, and I hold their opinion in the highest regard. Colque also don't consolidate passengers with other companies and have been around longer than many of the others. At the beginning of the trip, I pulled Victor aside and told him he would be rewarded with a handsome tip if there weren't any problems. The trip to Uyuni was perfect; he truly earned it.

On the trek through southwest Bolivia, there were only two other passengers in the 4x4. One was a polite Turkish guy who lived in Paris and worked as a cook; the other was Sandrine, an adorable, incredibly sharp, colossally talented, French girl. I'd like to take this time to personally thank her for rebuking me whenever I said or did anything stupid, and for reminding me when my feet smelled or I had bad breath. I hope we stay in touch.

Somewhere along the way, I developed altitude sickness. It wasn't a severe case, but it was definitely a problem. At the first accomodation, Victor got me some coca leaf tea. He told me if I drank it and slept for a while, I'd be fine. After I woke up, the symptoms were completely gone. I dare say I felt pretty damn good. I guess this somehow makes me a drug user, huh? I suspect the people fighting the drug war have never suffered from altitude sickness. I guarantee you after ten minutes of it, they'd be pleading for coca leaves.

Salar de Uyuni: The world's largest salt flat (approx. 4,700 square miles) is one of the most bizarre places I've ever seen. There were a few inches of rain resting on the ground, so it felt like the 4x4 was driving on an ocean. The good news: our one-eared guide had worked there for thirty years, so he knew exactly where he was going. The bad news: he wasn't exactly playing with a full deck. At one point, I was watching his eyes from the back seat, and he fell asleep for a good ten seconds. Not to worry. There was nothing around for him to crash into -- except the Hotel Playa Blanca, made entirely from salt. If he sped toward it, I would have turned the wheel

Uyuni: This town is a pleasant mix of tourists and indiginous locals. It's the kind of place where you could wake up in the morning and find an excuse not to leave. In fact, that's almost what happened. It took three days for me to arrange transportation out of here. I could have left sooner, but the bus-without-toilet thing is kind of an issue for me. I finally left on a train that departed 9 ½ hours late.

Also in Uyuni: