Bolivia

For every experience I've had travelling, there are probably a dozen I missed out on. There are many places I'd like to return to and more than any other is Bolivia. Maybe it was the circumstances, maybe it was who I was travelling with, or maybe it was the impossibility of leaving that left me with a sour taste in my mouth, but it will remain a source of disappointment when remembering past trips. Getting there required a long, uncomfortable bus trip from the sea level city of Lima, Peru, through Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world to the capital of La Paz, the world's highest capital city. Before we left Peru, I had eaten raw chicken, and the severity of my food poisoning was rivaled only by the altitude sickness I developed once we arrived. Despite that, I still attempted the "World's Hottest Curry", a terrible mistake that was just as spicy coming up as it was coming down. I was bedridden for a couple days as my companions explored the jungle, climbed a mountain and went on a camping excursion. When I was finally mobile and could keep a meal down, our time in La Paz was coming to an end. One of our group had lost a close friend biking Yungas Road, or The Road of Death, and consequently no one wanted to join me in the bike trip down it. We only had limited time to get to Brazil, and couldn't fit in a detour to the Salt Flats in Sucre. Instead, we spent four days waiting for violent protests to end so we could board a train, slept in the street at the border waiting in line with hundreds of other stranded travelers and caught a 22 hour bus into Brazil.  Almost every thing that could have gone wrong did, and when I left I vowed I'd never return. After I left though, I realized the reason I disliked the country so much was because I missed out on it entirely.