I decided to book the mountain bike ride of the World´s Most Dangerous Road through our hostel given they are 300 blv cheaper than the likes of gravity etc, despite Brendan Wrights´s warnings of them being a micky mouse outfit.
Things started well at breakfast, an aussie guy from the hostel joined me and another aussie staying at Loki was in the mix with a Swiss couple. A pretty standard breakfast although we did get ham and cheese toasted sandwiches, a first! We got all our gear and headed over the road to get into the van. No fancy sign writing for this outfit, just the hilux van with bikes on the room, an chillie bin of food and drink in the back and no first aid kit or rescue gear to be seen.
We headed out towards the start of the ride, only to be stopped the border check point by a cop who wanted money because of some minor indiscrepancy with the van´s rego. That issue resolved we pulled up in a gravel parking area a few hundred metres past the gravity and downhill madness crews setting up. The first 35 km are on the sealed road through amazing gorges and mountains, ending in a small town where an uphill section necessitates a short ride in the van to the downhill. Without incident and at speeds around 65km per hour we headed to where the old road, i.e, the Death Road, drops off. When we first saw it we even wondered if it was a road, resembling more of a metal driveway we get back home. Anyway, we jumped on the bikes for our 35km ish decent of the road, with drops as high as 800m or more at parts. Although most of the traffic takes the new road, we still had to be careful for oncoming cars. We passed a few other groups, demonstrating that anyone can do it as long as one goes slowing, their guide was in despair just with one hand on the bar just cruising. No major mishaps at all, just a tough ride on a road that doesn´t get my repair work and a bike which may as well not have had front suspension.
There were many crosses along they way showing where cars and buses had failed to take corners or simply had not enough room to get by each other... We only encountered several cars which meant we were able to make a pretty speedy decent.
We ended our ride at a odd little hostel tucked away in the bus, with a pool and a large buffet lunch with chicken, meat, corn and all the works. We were even provided with towels, soap and shampoo for a great hot shower, before good dip in a rather green pool and relaxing in sun loungers with a beer. Not a bad way to end what was actually a pretty scenic and tranquil ride.
We jumped back in the van and headed back towards they way we had just ridden. We all exchanged looks and wondered what was going on....were surely weren´t taking the death road when a new road had been built. The answer...yes, its a bit quicker haahah. One of the Aussie guys was packing himself, polling the rest of us how we felt. The Swiss simply said yeah, its more interesting this way hha. He nervously sat on the edge of his seat and crossed himself at every cross. We got some awesome video footage of the van scooting along the edge of the cliff and passing oncoming buses etc! It was probably more harrowing that the bike ride down, as we had no control over what was going on and had to just hold on for dear life!
The traffic in la paz was terrible. The hostel road was blocked by a car, and after tooting the van went around it only to discover the man in the drivers seat was totally boozed and had just comered out on the steering wheel. Classic bolivian styles!
With one of my planned La Paz tours out the way, it was time to relax for a day or two and organise a trek to Huyana Potosi.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
La Paz - November 6th
What a difference La Paz is to the other more tranquil places I have been of late! It is the first major city since Buenos Aires and it certainly is a lot more hectic and on your toes! I got a taxi to the hostel with the girls from the Sucre Joy Rider. They had a hotel in mind but I had been recommended Hostel El Solario by a few chaps in Sucre, which turned out to be pretty reasonable. I decided to go for a single room for 35 blv rather than a dorm for 25, as 35 is still only about 9 kiwi and I get to lock all my stuff away and throw stuff around, as I plan to use La La Paz as a bit of a base.
I joined the girls at their hotel for a bit of a walk around and some breakfast at a spot they knew. It turned out to be pretty interesting and in the heart of the market area so it was a good introduction to La Paz markets. I left the girls to go and get air tickets to the jungle and went to investigate Huyani Potosi climbing prices for a few days times. It seems liked the price is around 125USD and many operators offering the same stuff but talking it up...enough wasting time so off to the city.
It was clear from the start that I was going to like the place, with lots of street food, Internet cafes and easy to talk around, although pretty darn busy. I walk the main road, 9 De Julio for a bit, stopping in on Gravity Bikes to see their Death Road prices, a whopping 600 blv but I guess they offer safety and the whole reputation deal. I had found a little city info book from the Loki Hostel which indicated that some great markets were on at Al Alto, which is up on the hill and affords great views of the city. I was putting it off given it seemed pretty hard to get to by collectivo (i had some random address written down from the hostel and an Internet cafe). As i was walking along some english chap was sticking his head into a taxi asking to go to Al Alto, but the drive refused. I approached the guy and said we could grab a collectivo and head up together, which suited us both. Simon, who looked like a cross between james blunt and chris martin, was a bit sketched out by the bus but it was a fun experience. It seemed to take ages, and a particular chap who looked pretty professionally dressed with a blazer over his arm had a pretty good go to get into both Simon and my pockets, which was interesting. I chatted to some locals and managed to get the right stop for us to get off.
Al Alto markets were pretty interesting, with a heap of people around and markets that seemed to go on for ever. At an orange stand, we got chatting to a local who was friendly enough, and told us both that the markets are muy peligoros (very dangerous) and making all sorts of stabbing and strangling gestures ahaha. Right, leave before dark! We strolled around for a few hours soaking up the huge number of shops and different distinct areas selling everything from car parts and whole cars, doors and windows, homewares, food and everything else you can imagine. Simon bought some bananas, leaving one in his back pocket, which didnt´last long haha. We got a huge bag of giant honey puff type things, an ice cream and a few other bits while walking around and taking photos of the view looking down to the city. When we decided to head off, we went to the main road and waited for a collectivo, which took ages to come. A chap at a small stand tried to flag some down but the little vans and mini buses were very full, despite some people managing to cram about 10 people into a small Mike Perkins size van (personal joke) with the sliding door still open! We started to walk down the hill through a sketch neighbourhood, but the guy called us back when a bus arrived...perfect!
That night I chilled out in front of the TV...getting up several times to vomit and crap due to bad food and perhaps altitude..not flash. I had a super early night and wrote the next day off as a simple sight seeing day. It was pretty decent really...heading around the commercial area, constitutional palace and courts and generally soaking up a different part of the city. Fried chicken for lunch for the first (and not last!) time and a bit of reading. I tried to find a climbing agency but didn´t get very far! Pretty low key night at the hostel really watching a movie and yarning to some kiwis and aussies.
The next morning I woke feeling pretty good so ran downstairs to see if I had enough time go get on a tour leaving in 30 minutes to Chacaltaya and Valle de Luna. I did, so paid my money and ran out the door to get some bread and jam for lunch. What a classic adventure of a day! We picked up the full van load of people and back up the hill to Al Alto, driving around for ages trying to find gasoline, driving past the same shops 3 times. We eventually found it an on the rush back to get to the mountain we had a crash, t-boning a taxi. Not much damage done but it did draw quite a crowd. We drove on some terrible road, arriving at a junction to Hyuani Potosi and Chacaltaya, where there was a political blockade, which rendered us helpless for around 2 hours. At times the convoy would move, only to be stopped again. The old German couple were having problems, the man was feeling pretty ill and was put in an ambulance at the border blockade, to return just as we were heading off, which surprised us given we though he was heading down. Eventually, after some music, dancing,watching llamas and watching an agreement being signed we headed off towards the mountain at a cracking pace.
The roads were terrible, steep drop offs and in poor condition even for a 4wd, let along a crappy little van. At 5435m, Chacaltaya is the 5th highest mountain in the world has the highest commercial ski field in the world, and we could feel the lack of oxygen. We got our jackets etc and headed on up to the top, which was 5545m, the second highest I have been after Nepal. We had some great views of Hyuani Potosi and other mountains before heading down. We met the German couple at the van as they did not go up. They looked absolutely awful! The lady was moaning and holding her head and had a spew bag ready to go. Half way down they chap couldn´t find his wallet so that caused more anguish for them. I got the feeling that this was the dya from hell and in the little van bumping down for several hours it was a big ask on their first day of travel.
I booked my down hill ride that evening, opting for the budget company at the hostel to save 300blv, as people had said you didn´t need all that flash gear that Gravity offer so that suited me. Brendan Wright had done the trip a year earlier and said it was pretty micky mouse so I made a point of actually selecting my bike that night so I didn´t get a total dud. I went up town and got a massive serving of chicken and chips from a food outlet. Bolivia is big on massive rotisserie stands with 20 odd chickens in them...you simply order how much you want and they cut it up with scissors and dump it in a bag, classic! It was so yummy and totally going to be my diet for the next week or so!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Sucre: 03-05 November
Back to the bus station in Potosi to board our bus destined for Sucre. The road between Potosi and Sucre was entirely sealed and in great conditions so the ride was comfortable and seemed to go pretty quickly. We were entertained by a chap selling little pottles of some magical cream similar to tiger balm, with all sorts of Spanish superlatives used to describe the little tub of goodness. He actually did pretty well from it too! We stopped at some border control and people thrust themselves out the window to buy bags of juice and other goods from the children below. New Zealand really could learn something from such commerical activism!
We had a little pamphlet for a hotel in Sucre associated with the Potosi hostel so we jumped in a taxi and trundled off there some 4 km away. Ben was looking into Spanish lessons and a homestay so I checked into a dorm while Ben left his stuff there so he could head off to his possible homestay place to check it out. We took a wander around the central plaza, dotted with buildings which all explain the UNESCO World Heritage Site status. We found a small cafe with an almuerzo, lunch of the day three course cheap option. It was surprisingly good value with soup, meat and rice and some yoghurt to finish. After lunch Ben headed off and I returned to the hostel to kill time on a horribly wet afternoon, action packed with perhaps the loudest thunder storm I had heard.
Sitting around the hostel wasn´t exactly exciting but I did get my photos updated and backed up to my hard drive so that was a bit of a bonus. I decided to head into town for a coffee at a renowned cafe, the Joy Rider, which is a Spanish/German setup which also runs mtb tours around the area. I pulled up a chair on a table on the mezzanine floor and got into my Spanish book. There were a few people on the table next to me having a few drinks and playing a dice game, which looked pretty fun. After a while, they invited me to join them, which I did in an instant. The game was actually pretty fun, combining luck and bluffing and a form of punishment for the looser at the end of the round. Their punishment was a decent smearing of sunscreen which they had bought and all disliked because of the smell, but it soon turned into finishing half ones drink!
We played the dice game for several hours and ordered some dinner. We also invited a girl who now occupied my old table to join us. Emily, from San Fransisco, was a photographer carrying around a 5D and 24-70 f2.8 as well as a power book; all pretty serious but her photos are pretty amazing. www.emilypolar.com My big steak never arrived and after I said to the waitress ´2 minutes or I don´t want it´ i headed down and cancelled it for good. I kept the side of fries and did not have to pay for them so it saved me 40 bolivianos, which is probably a good thing anyway!
I organised to meet Emily at following day for a trip around the nearby areas. After some talk we decided to jump a bus out to the seven cascades a bit out of town. It was a great little ride with all sorts of people getting on and off, some carrying live chicken and so on. We got off at the last stop in some small dirt road village and asked locals how to get to the cascades. They all just pointed into the valley which seemed to make sense. After quite a bit of descending and climbing rocks etc, it became apparent that were were probably in the wrong area. (Looking at a map a girl had in the hostel the following morning confirmed we did in fact have the wrong area.) Not to worry, it was a good little day out of the city and pretty enough.
We headed back into town and made our way towards the mirador in Recolleta, which is meant to afford great views of the city. We found a lovely cafe at the end of the strip of tourist stands and pulled up a sun lounger and our books. I flicked through Emily´s photos and finished a decent chunk of my book, as well as drinking one of the best iced cappachinos I have ever had! I vowed to return the next day for another, which I did!
That evening I caught up with Ben for a meal, which turned out to be at the local casino, but it was relatively cheap and pretty decent actually so we left happy. We decided to head back to the Joy Rider for a few drinks and to see who was there from the hostel. We ended up bumping into the same group from the night before, so we yarned with them for a few hours (until we were kicked out at closing time around 2am) and played a few more rounds of the dice game. We said our goodbyes and headed off to our respective hostels, tentatively arranging to meet the next day on the bus to La Paz.
The following morning I felt like doing pretty much nothing, so bought by bus ticket to La Paz from the bus station, did a few laps of the market streets and headed back up to the mirador for another iced coffee and a chunk of John Grisham. I met an Australian couple up there who had followed my recommendations to make the trip up. I headed back down to catch up with Ben, although he never showed so probably got held up somewhere. I finished off my city tour by heading to the supreme court and lovely parks nearby. Off to the bus station by taxi to get on my first long distance ride in Bolivia so not sure what to expect. Pretty sad to leave Sucre to be honest, as I could have spent another day or two just relaxing and chilling out. It has a great feel to the place and many good options for eating and drinking.
I had a pretty average bus waiting for me so I got my luggage on board by carrying it up several flights of stairs to the ticket office, where they weighed and tagged it before lowering it back down to the bus by a simple pully system. I met the girls from the previous two nights and boarded the bus. The heaters were already cranking and because I had the window seat the vent was right up my right leg, combined with the open window I would be in a state of hot/cold sweets the whole night!
We stopped at some random little truck stop setup for dinner and refreshments, although I had already packed a few empanadas etc. I did get a hamburger and cold chips though, which wasn´t that great but helped fill a gap. I managed to get some pretty decent sleep and nothing from my bag nicked so a pretty good night really. Bring on La Paz!!
We had a little pamphlet for a hotel in Sucre associated with the Potosi hostel so we jumped in a taxi and trundled off there some 4 km away. Ben was looking into Spanish lessons and a homestay so I checked into a dorm while Ben left his stuff there so he could head off to his possible homestay place to check it out. We took a wander around the central plaza, dotted with buildings which all explain the UNESCO World Heritage Site status. We found a small cafe with an almuerzo, lunch of the day three course cheap option. It was surprisingly good value with soup, meat and rice and some yoghurt to finish. After lunch Ben headed off and I returned to the hostel to kill time on a horribly wet afternoon, action packed with perhaps the loudest thunder storm I had heard.
Sitting around the hostel wasn´t exactly exciting but I did get my photos updated and backed up to my hard drive so that was a bit of a bonus. I decided to head into town for a coffee at a renowned cafe, the Joy Rider, which is a Spanish/German setup which also runs mtb tours around the area. I pulled up a chair on a table on the mezzanine floor and got into my Spanish book. There were a few people on the table next to me having a few drinks and playing a dice game, which looked pretty fun. After a while, they invited me to join them, which I did in an instant. The game was actually pretty fun, combining luck and bluffing and a form of punishment for the looser at the end of the round. Their punishment was a decent smearing of sunscreen which they had bought and all disliked because of the smell, but it soon turned into finishing half ones drink!
We played the dice game for several hours and ordered some dinner. We also invited a girl who now occupied my old table to join us. Emily, from San Fransisco, was a photographer carrying around a 5D and 24-70 f2.8 as well as a power book; all pretty serious but her photos are pretty amazing. www.emilypolar.com My big steak never arrived and after I said to the waitress ´2 minutes or I don´t want it´ i headed down and cancelled it for good. I kept the side of fries and did not have to pay for them so it saved me 40 bolivianos, which is probably a good thing anyway!
I organised to meet Emily at following day for a trip around the nearby areas. After some talk we decided to jump a bus out to the seven cascades a bit out of town. It was a great little ride with all sorts of people getting on and off, some carrying live chicken and so on. We got off at the last stop in some small dirt road village and asked locals how to get to the cascades. They all just pointed into the valley which seemed to make sense. After quite a bit of descending and climbing rocks etc, it became apparent that were were probably in the wrong area. (Looking at a map a girl had in the hostel the following morning confirmed we did in fact have the wrong area.) Not to worry, it was a good little day out of the city and pretty enough.
We headed back into town and made our way towards the mirador in Recolleta, which is meant to afford great views of the city. We found a lovely cafe at the end of the strip of tourist stands and pulled up a sun lounger and our books. I flicked through Emily´s photos and finished a decent chunk of my book, as well as drinking one of the best iced cappachinos I have ever had! I vowed to return the next day for another, which I did!
That evening I caught up with Ben for a meal, which turned out to be at the local casino, but it was relatively cheap and pretty decent actually so we left happy. We decided to head back to the Joy Rider for a few drinks and to see who was there from the hostel. We ended up bumping into the same group from the night before, so we yarned with them for a few hours (until we were kicked out at closing time around 2am) and played a few more rounds of the dice game. We said our goodbyes and headed off to our respective hostels, tentatively arranging to meet the next day on the bus to La Paz.
The following morning I felt like doing pretty much nothing, so bought by bus ticket to La Paz from the bus station, did a few laps of the market streets and headed back up to the mirador for another iced coffee and a chunk of John Grisham. I met an Australian couple up there who had followed my recommendations to make the trip up. I headed back down to catch up with Ben, although he never showed so probably got held up somewhere. I finished off my city tour by heading to the supreme court and lovely parks nearby. Off to the bus station by taxi to get on my first long distance ride in Bolivia so not sure what to expect. Pretty sad to leave Sucre to be honest, as I could have spent another day or two just relaxing and chilling out. It has a great feel to the place and many good options for eating and drinking.
I had a pretty average bus waiting for me so I got my luggage on board by carrying it up several flights of stairs to the ticket office, where they weighed and tagged it before lowering it back down to the bus by a simple pully system. I met the girls from the previous two nights and boarded the bus. The heaters were already cranking and because I had the window seat the vent was right up my right leg, combined with the open window I would be in a state of hot/cold sweets the whole night!
We stopped at some random little truck stop setup for dinner and refreshments, although I had already packed a few empanadas etc. I did get a hamburger and cold chips though, which wasn´t that great but helped fill a gap. I managed to get some pretty decent sleep and nothing from my bag nicked so a pretty good night really. Bring on La Paz!!
Uyuni to Potosi: 01-03 November
Well, Ben and I had a good night chilling out in Uyuni and kicked the day off with a breakfast at the Cactus Hostel cafe. Earlier we has visited the bus stop to get a ticket to Potosi. We bumped into Angry Ross the Irishman, who had raved about a particular bus company and how well he had done to get a ticket to Sucre, 2 hours beyond Potosi, for 65 bolivianos. We thought this was pretty classic given we got our tickets to Potosi for 20 and a ticket from Potosi would likely only cost about 20 at the most, but he thought the bus was 'fucking grand' so he was happy.
The journey did not start well for me, with several ominous signs of a rough ride ahead. My tummy hadn't been feeling that good since waking up, and at the ATM a small fart provided more than I bargained for...so back to the hostel to sort myself out and unpack my diastop pills for a 6 hour bus ride ahead! The actual bus journey was pretty nice, with a surprisingly comfortable bus and great views of the country side as we made our way towards the world´s highest city.. About 3 hours in my stomach started to get pretty knarly with hard core cramps and lots of butt clenching going on to stop a disaster. The bus broke down at one point leaving us on a bridge yarning to a engineer on his way to Potosi for work, which gave us insights into all sorts of things like wages, cost of houses in Potosi and La Paz and all sorts. He gave us his phone number and invited us to come over for dinner (alhtough we later could not get in touch with him).. Angry Ross was classic, just looking at the bus saying 'what a fucking disaster' and when I said it was probably just a typical occurrence and would be fixed soon he just kept saying 'if it was simple it would be fixed, what a total disaster'. He had no water, no food or no medication for altitude and I resisted giving mine up because I can't stand unprepared people who just expect others to carry everything.
Nearing Potosi I was seriously considering getting the chap to pull over for a dump but Potosi was only half an hour away so I held on. Ben offered to get my bags from the roof upon arriving at the bus terminal (something I had already considered) so that I could run or at least hobble to the public toilet, assuming there was one. Getting off the bus I asked the engineer chap for directions to the toilets and gave my empanads to Ross, who was still asking for food but I wasn't exactly going to eat it! I grabbed a full roll of loo paper and made my way briskly over to the loo, paying my 50 cvts to the lady at the far end. It was a basic setup with small cubicles separated by rough wooden sides and doors. The first two doors I opened were occupied, nasty sight that, but the thrid was ready to go. No toilet seat, great, but I didn't have the energy to squat so just sat on the rim, nasty! I was reminded about a scene from an American Pie movie when the character Shit-Break had been given lots of laxative and had to run to the girls toilet, unleashing such fury that all the other occupants left in a hurry screaming. It wasn't the best 15 minutes of my life but with half a roll of paper used up and much Purell sanitation gel used on hands etc I was ready to go...but hang on, no flusher.....I had to leave the toilet in a horrile state and walk over to a barrel of water to get a bucket to flush the goods away . I did so, hoping that no one would go in while I was fetching the water haha.
Potosi was hustle and bustle, with lots of traffic, street vendors and general commotion. We got a taxi to the main square, from where we would find a hostel nearby. We asked the taxi driver and some tourists for recommendations and found a fantastic places in and old magestic building around the corner. It was odd to see that the streets surrounding the central square were fall of abogados, or lawyers, there literally must have been 40 or so just on the way to the hostel 2 blocks away. Sucre, which is only 2 hours away, is the constitutional capital of Bolivia and retains the highest court in the land, so I suppose there will be plenty of lawyers there also.
Upon checking in, a double was not much more than a dorm so we went for that and headed onto the streets to find stuff to do. The streets are narrow, barely wide enough for two cars and winding around the hillside. With views of Cerro Rico as the backdrop to the town, we pottered around found some tour agencies and generally got our bearings. I had to return to the hostel to have another episode, leaving Ben to explore. Ben would join me shortly to watch the Devils Miner, a docco about the history of the mine and a 14 year old who had been working in there for a few years. Such a horrible existence for such a small kid supporting the entire family which put me off going to the mines on a tour. The tours weren't going to be operated for several more days due to a local fiesta and bank holiday, but after watching the film I was less inclined to hang around and be a tourist in a mine that has killed 8 million people over the years.
Ben and I made our way around Potosi for a couple of days, heading up a mirador for a great view of the city and visiting markets for fresh fruit and roast chicken and chips. Our second night we watched the Motorcycle Dairies, which was a great film about Che Guevara and their adventures along Routa 40 in Argentina up to central america. We decided to head to Sucre on a night bus given we were both not keen on a mine tour and wanted to keep moving. We packed our bags and headed to the bus station. We got out of the taxi only to realise that there is a different terminal servicing the long distance routes, so we had to walk for quite a while. After all that we were unable to get tickets to Sucre until the following morning, which we booked and headed back out onto the road for a taxi or collectivo back to the hostel. We settled on a little collectivo bus which was soon full to the brim winding its way around the streets, seemingly further and further away from where we wanted to go. We managed to get off with our large packs through the 20 odd people crammed into the van and started to walk, asking for directions every now and again. We actually met some interesting characters on the way and got a good feeling for the city at night so it was quite a little adventure.
Upon checking back into the hostel we made a beeline into town for some cheap street food at hamburger stands and a small restaurant while meat on skewers with boiled spud etc, which was awesome. We again watched another movie and got an early night ready for our 9am bus the next day to Sucre.
The journey did not start well for me, with several ominous signs of a rough ride ahead. My tummy hadn't been feeling that good since waking up, and at the ATM a small fart provided more than I bargained for...so back to the hostel to sort myself out and unpack my diastop pills for a 6 hour bus ride ahead! The actual bus journey was pretty nice, with a surprisingly comfortable bus and great views of the country side as we made our way towards the world´s highest city.. About 3 hours in my stomach started to get pretty knarly with hard core cramps and lots of butt clenching going on to stop a disaster. The bus broke down at one point leaving us on a bridge yarning to a engineer on his way to Potosi for work, which gave us insights into all sorts of things like wages, cost of houses in Potosi and La Paz and all sorts. He gave us his phone number and invited us to come over for dinner (alhtough we later could not get in touch with him).. Angry Ross was classic, just looking at the bus saying 'what a fucking disaster' and when I said it was probably just a typical occurrence and would be fixed soon he just kept saying 'if it was simple it would be fixed, what a total disaster'. He had no water, no food or no medication for altitude and I resisted giving mine up because I can't stand unprepared people who just expect others to carry everything.
Nearing Potosi I was seriously considering getting the chap to pull over for a dump but Potosi was only half an hour away so I held on. Ben offered to get my bags from the roof upon arriving at the bus terminal (something I had already considered) so that I could run or at least hobble to the public toilet, assuming there was one. Getting off the bus I asked the engineer chap for directions to the toilets and gave my empanads to Ross, who was still asking for food but I wasn't exactly going to eat it! I grabbed a full roll of loo paper and made my way briskly over to the loo, paying my 50 cvts to the lady at the far end. It was a basic setup with small cubicles separated by rough wooden sides and doors. The first two doors I opened were occupied, nasty sight that, but the thrid was ready to go. No toilet seat, great, but I didn't have the energy to squat so just sat on the rim, nasty! I was reminded about a scene from an American Pie movie when the character Shit-Break had been given lots of laxative and had to run to the girls toilet, unleashing such fury that all the other occupants left in a hurry screaming. It wasn't the best 15 minutes of my life but with half a roll of paper used up and much Purell sanitation gel used on hands etc I was ready to go...but hang on, no flusher.....I had to leave the toilet in a horrile state and walk over to a barrel of water to get a bucket to flush the goods away . I did so, hoping that no one would go in while I was fetching the water haha.
Potosi was hustle and bustle, with lots of traffic, street vendors and general commotion. We got a taxi to the main square, from where we would find a hostel nearby. We asked the taxi driver and some tourists for recommendations and found a fantastic places in and old magestic building around the corner. It was odd to see that the streets surrounding the central square were fall of abogados, or lawyers, there literally must have been 40 or so just on the way to the hostel 2 blocks away. Sucre, which is only 2 hours away, is the constitutional capital of Bolivia and retains the highest court in the land, so I suppose there will be plenty of lawyers there also.
Upon checking in, a double was not much more than a dorm so we went for that and headed onto the streets to find stuff to do. The streets are narrow, barely wide enough for two cars and winding around the hillside. With views of Cerro Rico as the backdrop to the town, we pottered around found some tour agencies and generally got our bearings. I had to return to the hostel to have another episode, leaving Ben to explore. Ben would join me shortly to watch the Devils Miner, a docco about the history of the mine and a 14 year old who had been working in there for a few years. Such a horrible existence for such a small kid supporting the entire family which put me off going to the mines on a tour. The tours weren't going to be operated for several more days due to a local fiesta and bank holiday, but after watching the film I was less inclined to hang around and be a tourist in a mine that has killed 8 million people over the years.
Ben and I made our way around Potosi for a couple of days, heading up a mirador for a great view of the city and visiting markets for fresh fruit and roast chicken and chips. Our second night we watched the Motorcycle Dairies, which was a great film about Che Guevara and their adventures along Routa 40 in Argentina up to central america. We decided to head to Sucre on a night bus given we were both not keen on a mine tour and wanted to keep moving. We packed our bags and headed to the bus station. We got out of the taxi only to realise that there is a different terminal servicing the long distance routes, so we had to walk for quite a while. After all that we were unable to get tickets to Sucre until the following morning, which we booked and headed back out onto the road for a taxi or collectivo back to the hostel. We settled on a little collectivo bus which was soon full to the brim winding its way around the streets, seemingly further and further away from where we wanted to go. We managed to get off with our large packs through the 20 odd people crammed into the van and started to walk, asking for directions every now and again. We actually met some interesting characters on the way and got a good feeling for the city at night so it was quite a little adventure.
Upon checking back into the hostel we made a beeline into town for some cheap street food at hamburger stands and a small restaurant while meat on skewers with boiled spud etc, which was awesome. We again watched another movie and got an early night ready for our 9am bus the next day to Sucre.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Salar de Uyuni 3 day tour - October 29 to 31
We arrived in Uyuni late afternoon and made our way around several tour operators, one of whom gave us a ride from the bus stop to a hotel. I had a few names in my head of agencies that people had recommended by travellers. The hotel was nice enough with double rooms and showers etc. We settled on the agency attached to the hotel as it was a reasonable price of 525 bolivianos for the 3 days including sleeping bags and a nights accommodation in Uyuni, which was several hundred cheaper than that paid by people booking through Loci in La Paz haha.
We had an amazing bbq Asado meal of llama and creamed cheesy rice for dinner and did a bit of Internet. For some reason no Internet cafes allow usb connections and most are pretty slow. I walked out after a minute or two at one cafe and the guy fired up and wanted me to pay, it was pretty funny how angry he got. We purchased some sacks from the market to transfer some gear around as we had to share a large pack between two on the tour.
The next morning we all headed into the plaza for breakfast and a bit of shopping for supplementary food for the trip. We met Sarah at the tour office when we dropped our bags off; Sarah has arrived from La Paz and would be joining our group. Apparently the other 6 people to join us and another jeep were staying behind due to illness of one party member so we had a jeep for just the 5 of us which would prove to work out really well.
We set off with all the gear on the roof and us squeezed inside, making the first stop at the driver´s house to collect his wife and baby who would be with us for the trip as our cook. We were told that the jeep had an ipod adapter but the driver knew nothing about it so after we kicked up a fuss and told him to turn around he said we would go to the first stop, the cemetery of trains, we would make a short return trip to Uyuni to get the much needed cassette adapter for the stereo. With over 1200km of driving ahead, we certainly would need our own tunes! With the ipod adapter plugged in and tunes blaring, we headed toward the salar along with a convoy of other jeeps at full pace. Our first stop on the salar would be a museum and salt processing factory at Colchani where workers continue to take truck loads of salt into the processing rooms. Following the wet season in Jan and Feb, where the salar is 20 to 30cm in water, the evaporation of the water forms a layer of salt which is collected. The small town was pretty touristy but I did get a small salt rock crystal to help their cause.
We set off again for another 20 minutes or so onto the salar proper, where we would stop for our first attempt at a few tricky photos where one can make interesting effects with distance illusions, such as people holding other people in their hands, standing on coke cans and all that jazz. In the middle of the salar is the original salt hotel, which has now been closed for environmental reasons but still serves as a museum and lunch stop for some groups. We took a few photos and pushed on towards the Isla de los Pescados, or island of fish, which is a island in the middle of the salar covered in cacti as old as 1200 years and 12m high! All pretty interesting and incredibly scenic and odd to have and island covered in cacti and coral. We had lunch here and took more photos, some rather funny with Gary taking the lead with a bare ass shot and someone appearing to be defecated out much to the amusement of the other groups who were doing the standard shots. So far it had been an awesome day and we were all excited about heading off to our salt hotel for the night. We went via a cave which we could really have missed and saved the 10 bolivianos but it afford some nice views of the area.
The salt hotel was awesome and we were the only group to be staying there. We sorted out our beds and headed off towards the cliffs to get a better view of the sunset over the salar. We had a few beers as the sunset turned the sky a pretty red and yellow before heading back to the hotel for dinner. Being in Bolivia and the salar one easily looses track of the altitude, although I soon found out the hard way....(although it could have been bad food...). Drinking a few beers at 3800m is not the best way to acclimatise to a new height and I was pretty sick most of the night and was unable to hold down any food the next day. My lunch only lasted 30 seconds!
The second day involved quite a lot more driving but we saw some pretty interesting sights. From the salt hotel we would travel far south almost to the board or Chile near Lago Colorada. En route to Lago Colorada we would stop at Laguna Hedionda to see flamingos and to have lunch, before moving along to see the Arbol de Piedra, which is a rock tree (or the shape of a tree at least). I was feeling better that night and enjoyed a big plate of roast chicken after a long and very cold walk. I had perhaps the best sleep of the trip so far, all the way through to 430am when we were awaken for the final long day.
Day three is always regarded as the worst for the round trips from Uyuni as the jeep has to cover all the ground from the previous two days, which is some 12 hours in total. We started the day with a nice breakfast of pancakes and a swim at Termas de Polques hot spings after visiting the Solar de Manaña geyser basin. The geyser was a joke, not even a geyser as I know it from New Zealand, simply a pipe in the ground venting steam all the time without any other form of discharge! It was at 4850m and at 530 in the morning it was pretty cold. The hot springs were awesome, touristy as hell but a great dip before breakfast. After the hot pools we basically only had one more stop before a solid 8 hours drive to Uyuni, which was the Laguna Verde with Licancabur Volcano behind, which was pretty impressive. To this point we had followed an Asian chap around who had the full suit of cannon dslr gear (only a 20D but!) and a huge tripod which is girlfriend carried most of the time which was funny to most of us around. They didn´t swim or anything but looked like they were having fun with their photos all the same.
The drive back was boring but we had music and a few stops along the way and lunch inside a dairy in a small village, which was kinda weird. At our lunch spot we got talking to a german couple who had rented a brand new KTM 990 motorbike in Santiago who were touring around the Salar and Southern Bolivia, which was kinda interesting. They were certainly all kitted out and having a great time. We would later spot them at a small village along the road and toot to them. All and all a decent trip for a decent price. We all hung around Uyuni that night for trains and buses. Ben and I decided to stay on and get a bus to Potosi the next morning while Sarah boarded a night train to Villazon and Silvar and Gary both headed off to La Paz on the bus. We visited the bbq llama place again, although it got food poisoning and ended up pissing out my backside for the next day...see the next post.
We had an amazing bbq Asado meal of llama and creamed cheesy rice for dinner and did a bit of Internet. For some reason no Internet cafes allow usb connections and most are pretty slow. I walked out after a minute or two at one cafe and the guy fired up and wanted me to pay, it was pretty funny how angry he got. We purchased some sacks from the market to transfer some gear around as we had to share a large pack between two on the tour.
The next morning we all headed into the plaza for breakfast and a bit of shopping for supplementary food for the trip. We met Sarah at the tour office when we dropped our bags off; Sarah has arrived from La Paz and would be joining our group. Apparently the other 6 people to join us and another jeep were staying behind due to illness of one party member so we had a jeep for just the 5 of us which would prove to work out really well.
We set off with all the gear on the roof and us squeezed inside, making the first stop at the driver´s house to collect his wife and baby who would be with us for the trip as our cook. We were told that the jeep had an ipod adapter but the driver knew nothing about it so after we kicked up a fuss and told him to turn around he said we would go to the first stop, the cemetery of trains, we would make a short return trip to Uyuni to get the much needed cassette adapter for the stereo. With over 1200km of driving ahead, we certainly would need our own tunes! With the ipod adapter plugged in and tunes blaring, we headed toward the salar along with a convoy of other jeeps at full pace. Our first stop on the salar would be a museum and salt processing factory at Colchani where workers continue to take truck loads of salt into the processing rooms. Following the wet season in Jan and Feb, where the salar is 20 to 30cm in water, the evaporation of the water forms a layer of salt which is collected. The small town was pretty touristy but I did get a small salt rock crystal to help their cause.
We set off again for another 20 minutes or so onto the salar proper, where we would stop for our first attempt at a few tricky photos where one can make interesting effects with distance illusions, such as people holding other people in their hands, standing on coke cans and all that jazz. In the middle of the salar is the original salt hotel, which has now been closed for environmental reasons but still serves as a museum and lunch stop for some groups. We took a few photos and pushed on towards the Isla de los Pescados, or island of fish, which is a island in the middle of the salar covered in cacti as old as 1200 years and 12m high! All pretty interesting and incredibly scenic and odd to have and island covered in cacti and coral. We had lunch here and took more photos, some rather funny with Gary taking the lead with a bare ass shot and someone appearing to be defecated out much to the amusement of the other groups who were doing the standard shots. So far it had been an awesome day and we were all excited about heading off to our salt hotel for the night. We went via a cave which we could really have missed and saved the 10 bolivianos but it afford some nice views of the area.
The salt hotel was awesome and we were the only group to be staying there. We sorted out our beds and headed off towards the cliffs to get a better view of the sunset over the salar. We had a few beers as the sunset turned the sky a pretty red and yellow before heading back to the hotel for dinner. Being in Bolivia and the salar one easily looses track of the altitude, although I soon found out the hard way....(although it could have been bad food...). Drinking a few beers at 3800m is not the best way to acclimatise to a new height and I was pretty sick most of the night and was unable to hold down any food the next day. My lunch only lasted 30 seconds!
The second day involved quite a lot more driving but we saw some pretty interesting sights. From the salt hotel we would travel far south almost to the board or Chile near Lago Colorada. En route to Lago Colorada we would stop at Laguna Hedionda to see flamingos and to have lunch, before moving along to see the Arbol de Piedra, which is a rock tree (or the shape of a tree at least). I was feeling better that night and enjoyed a big plate of roast chicken after a long and very cold walk. I had perhaps the best sleep of the trip so far, all the way through to 430am when we were awaken for the final long day.
Day three is always regarded as the worst for the round trips from Uyuni as the jeep has to cover all the ground from the previous two days, which is some 12 hours in total. We started the day with a nice breakfast of pancakes and a swim at Termas de Polques hot spings after visiting the Solar de Manaña geyser basin. The geyser was a joke, not even a geyser as I know it from New Zealand, simply a pipe in the ground venting steam all the time without any other form of discharge! It was at 4850m and at 530 in the morning it was pretty cold. The hot springs were awesome, touristy as hell but a great dip before breakfast. After the hot pools we basically only had one more stop before a solid 8 hours drive to Uyuni, which was the Laguna Verde with Licancabur Volcano behind, which was pretty impressive. To this point we had followed an Asian chap around who had the full suit of cannon dslr gear (only a 20D but!) and a huge tripod which is girlfriend carried most of the time which was funny to most of us around. They didn´t swim or anything but looked like they were having fun with their photos all the same.
The drive back was boring but we had music and a few stops along the way and lunch inside a dairy in a small village, which was kinda weird. At our lunch spot we got talking to a german couple who had rented a brand new KTM 990 motorbike in Santiago who were touring around the Salar and Southern Bolivia, which was kinda interesting. They were certainly all kitted out and having a great time. We would later spot them at a small village along the road and toot to them. All and all a decent trip for a decent price. We all hung around Uyuni that night for trains and buses. Ben and I decided to stay on and get a bus to Potosi the next morning while Sarah boarded a night train to Villazon and Silvar and Gary both headed off to La Paz on the bus. We visited the bbq llama place again, although it got food poisoning and ended up pissing out my backside for the next day...see the next post.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Into Bolivia - 26 October
Later today we would be in Bolivia! We started the morning by heading back to the markets to see it in full swing, selling and bartering pottery, ceramics, wood and food stuffs. It was a very local market, with no other tourists there so it was interesting to see how the locals bargain for stuff. We were a bit early for all the serious meat but we did have some empanadas and fruit. After checking out, we headed towards the Bolivian boarder. The girls were looking forward to walking over the border bridge but were a bit disappointed to find that the bridge was not quite as romantic as they originally thought. We waited in line for ages until Ruth decided to approach an official to hurry the process along, and apparently he didn´t take his eyes off her breasts the whole time but it got us out of the line. I stood smugly in the line with three bags while people kept pushing in, but didn´t make a bit deal about it given shortly ruth would be back with the exit stamps and we would fly past them all! The Bolivian entry office was basic and easy. Ruth got told by the man the he loved her, classic! We headed up to the bus station to sort out our tickets to Tupiza, which is a few hours north and about half way to Uyuni. The bus station was nothing like I had experienced in South America so far, with crappy offices, painted signs and people shouting out destinations. The floors were covered in all sorts of cargo and other rubbish, no doubt destined for a bus like ours. The prices are so much cheaper than Argentina, costing only about $6 for a four hour trip. We settled on a bus and headed into town to kill a few hours. The food prices are so cheap, eating off the street for only a few dollars for empanadas, fruit and other good stuff. I also got by beard trimmed for a dollar or two which made my face a bit cooler. After a lot of tourist window shopping and several ice creams later, we boarded our crappy bus with just as many people standing as sitting.
The best way I can describe the ride was like sitting on a commercial washing machine full of rocks on spin cycle! It was so incredibly bumpy, noisy, and very hot! No doubt this will the first first of many of such trips. Surprisingly after a few hours it was fine, I even managed to get a bit of sleep at one stage. As we approached Tupiza the road became less of a road and more of a river bed, following, and crossing, the river several times over the course of an hour or so. The terrain as we entered Tupiza was mountainous and craggy, with huge red cliffs on all sides as we entered the basin. I had heard Tupiza was nestled in an amazing spot and was not disappointed.
After looking at various salt flat options and deciding not to get a tour from Tupiza because of the price, the girls decided to book their tickets for the next day to Potosi, as their time frame had also become a little pushed. We headed into town for a walk around at sunset, stumbling upon some dance performance at a school which was very entertaining. We found a chicken and chips joint for only 6 bolivianios, which is 1.50 NZ! I got a second plate cause I was so hungry and it was well cheap. I bumped into a chap, Ben, who I had randomly chatted to in a supermarket in Salta, who invited us up to his hostel to watch the Butch Cassady and the Sundance Kid. It seemed appropriate given these characters met their makers in the hills outside the Tupiza.
The next morning the girls and I visited the fruit market and then off to the bus station. I booked another night at the hostel and headed out to some canyons outside of town. I was going to walk but instead, after yarning to a lady at a fruit stand, jumped in a mini van for a single boliviano for the 6 km journey. I walked around a bit in the heat and headed back, stopping at a few other villages on the way. That afternoon I had organised with Ben and a few others to go horse riding around the canyons to the south of the town. We had a superb 3 hours around the canyons at sunset, for only 15 NZDs! After returning to Tupiza, I led the charge to an Asado, which served up a HUGE piece of steak and chirizo for only $6nzd. I had been saving my meat experiences to Bolivia where it is considerably cheaper than Argentina, and I was not disappointed. Whilst walking to the Internet cafe, I was accosted by the friendly ladies from the HI Hostel over the road where Ben and his mates were staying, and they convinced me to meet them in the plaza later to celebrate the girls birthday. Instead of going to the discotec, we headed up near the Christ statue for a bottle of pisco and lemonade, apparently away from the eys of the police. We drank for a few hours and tried to communicate in Spanish with some luck. It was very entertaining, especially with the cultural differences with Bolivian women drinking with men etc....
Because I didn't get all the photos of the amazing scenery at sunrise, I headed off to canyons again on foot in the morning sun. I had an awesome walk and covered some decent ground up and over the hills before my bus at 1030.
Ben, his mate Gary, and I jumped on the bus, along with a French chap Sylvain. The ride was incredible with views along numerous rivers, villages and mountains, at time reaching around 4200m. We stopped for lunch in a small local village where we got some strange meet, corn and potato, followed by and ice cream and then jelly and cream haha. The ride was some 6 hours all up into Uyuni and, as expected, we were accosted by tour touts right from the moment we got off the bus selling salt flat tours....see next post
The best way I can describe the ride was like sitting on a commercial washing machine full of rocks on spin cycle! It was so incredibly bumpy, noisy, and very hot! No doubt this will the first first of many of such trips. Surprisingly after a few hours it was fine, I even managed to get a bit of sleep at one stage. As we approached Tupiza the road became less of a road and more of a river bed, following, and crossing, the river several times over the course of an hour or so. The terrain as we entered Tupiza was mountainous and craggy, with huge red cliffs on all sides as we entered the basin. I had heard Tupiza was nestled in an amazing spot and was not disappointed.
After looking at various salt flat options and deciding not to get a tour from Tupiza because of the price, the girls decided to book their tickets for the next day to Potosi, as their time frame had also become a little pushed. We headed into town for a walk around at sunset, stumbling upon some dance performance at a school which was very entertaining. We found a chicken and chips joint for only 6 bolivianios, which is 1.50 NZ! I got a second plate cause I was so hungry and it was well cheap. I bumped into a chap, Ben, who I had randomly chatted to in a supermarket in Salta, who invited us up to his hostel to watch the Butch Cassady and the Sundance Kid. It seemed appropriate given these characters met their makers in the hills outside the Tupiza.
The next morning the girls and I visited the fruit market and then off to the bus station. I booked another night at the hostel and headed out to some canyons outside of town. I was going to walk but instead, after yarning to a lady at a fruit stand, jumped in a mini van for a single boliviano for the 6 km journey. I walked around a bit in the heat and headed back, stopping at a few other villages on the way. That afternoon I had organised with Ben and a few others to go horse riding around the canyons to the south of the town. We had a superb 3 hours around the canyons at sunset, for only 15 NZDs! After returning to Tupiza, I led the charge to an Asado, which served up a HUGE piece of steak and chirizo for only $6nzd. I had been saving my meat experiences to Bolivia where it is considerably cheaper than Argentina, and I was not disappointed. Whilst walking to the Internet cafe, I was accosted by the friendly ladies from the HI Hostel over the road where Ben and his mates were staying, and they convinced me to meet them in the plaza later to celebrate the girls birthday. Instead of going to the discotec, we headed up near the Christ statue for a bottle of pisco and lemonade, apparently away from the eys of the police. We drank for a few hours and tried to communicate in Spanish with some luck. It was very entertaining, especially with the cultural differences with Bolivian women drinking with men etc....
Because I didn't get all the photos of the amazing scenery at sunrise, I headed off to canyons again on foot in the morning sun. I had an awesome walk and covered some decent ground up and over the hills before my bus at 1030.
Ben, his mate Gary, and I jumped on the bus, along with a French chap Sylvain. The ride was incredible with views along numerous rivers, villages and mountains, at time reaching around 4200m. We stopped for lunch in a small local village where we got some strange meet, corn and potato, followed by and ice cream and then jelly and cream haha. The ride was some 6 hours all up into Uyuni and, as expected, we were accosted by tour touts right from the moment we got off the bus selling salt flat tours....see next post
Monday, October 27, 2008
Salta to Bolivia: 23 - 26 October
It has been a busy week since my last blog! I bussed from Cafayate to Salta on a pretty local bus, which seems to be more of a trend as I head north. Not complaining because the buses are still comfortable and a lot cheaper!
I met an American chap, Ken, on the bus while were having a stop at a small cafateria which had 1 peso empanadas and pizza (cheapest yet). He works for Nature Magazine in America and had a lot of good ideas about travelling North West Argentina. Shortly before arriving in Salta the bus broke down, but a mini van quickly arrived for us to transfer over to. We watched the luggage being pulled out of the holds onto the road before being loaded onto the roof. Neither Ken or I saw our bags on the road and were told they were already up on the roof, but we had our doubts. Our suspicions were confirmed when we arrived in Salta without our bags! We jumped back in the mini van with the driver and headed back to the bus to collect our bags, which were in a hold that had not been emptied.
Finally with our bags, Ken and I made our way around a few hostels settling for a nice one near San Martin park. I did a bit of hand washing and headed up the gondola with Ken to get a good view of the city. Salta is surprisingly large, but doesn´t really seem to have a lot to do, so we both checked out tickets for further north. I had planned to head up north before coming back down a bit half way to meet a connection to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile to start the salt flats. I decided to sleep on it because they needed a booking from Salta for buses that only run twice a week. I am increasingly weary or booking anything more than a day in advance given plans tend to change quite a lot. Ken and I did a circuit of the most significant buildings around Plaza 9 de Julio and got some money out at the ATM, which had a line the longest I have seen to get money out. We found a local burger joint for a sit down meal with the locals. Ken managed to almost put a toothpick through his lip as he bit into his burger!! We left and took some night shots of the Plaza.
Upon returning to the hostel, I met two girls from Canada who had come down from Bolivia. After talking to them for a bit and going down stairs to a nice ice cream palour, I decided against going to San Pedro de Atacama (given the bus ticket was 180 pesos) and instead fast track it up north and cross the border at La Quicas.
Ken and I headed off to the bus station the next morning for a bus up north. Ken was making his way up to far north to Humahuaca and make his way back down stopping at several towns. I decided I would go to Humahuaca too, but stopping several times en route as the towns didn´t seem to warrant any more than an hour. Upon board the bus, I met Ruth and Rhake, who I had met previously in Uruguay and more recently in Puerto Natalas. They were evidently still on the gringo trail heading up the border of Bolivia that day. I convinced them that there was plenty to see on the way so they joined me on my flying trip of the north west towards bolivia.
We said goodbye to Ken at Juyjuy, where the tree of us would transfer to a smaller bus to Pumamarca, which is famous for the moutain of seven colours. The buses really are getting cheap now, with the hour and a half journey costing only 6 pesos! I passed time on the bus talking to a local chap. Looking at him I knew he was either gay or a hairdresser (long nails, pony tail with pink clip etc), and it turned out he was indeed a hairdresser. I got some good conversation practice in and learned a few new words.
Arriving in Pumamarca was pretty amazing. It is a very small town but it sits below the mountain which has distinct bands of colours. Before setting off on our walks to various miradors, we figured out the bus time to the next town, Tilcara, which left in 2 hours. We decided to head to Tilcara en route to Humahuaca, to cover 4 towns in one day! The walk around Pumamarca was incredible, although very windy at times. The mountains were simply stunning and not many tourists around. We took all the photos we needed and stocked up on a bit of food for the next bus ride to Tilcara, which was only 2 pesos!
Tilcara is a pretty small sleepy town, which attracts more Argentinan tourists than foreigners. It is a well presented town with nice eating spots and cobbled streets. We only had an hour and a half before the next bus so we ran around eating llama empanadas and heading up the hills behind the town for a better view. Incredible thunder and lightening shook the entire village at times, although we were lucky it did not rain. Walking around the streets of Tilcara reminded me of Nepal, with narrow dirt tracks and small dirt shacks. A nice change from the big cities!
We again hit the minimercardo to get food for the bus ride and also dinner for the night. We decided to head to the HI Hostel upon arriving in Humahuaca, which is where I knew Ken would be. The hostel was ages from the bus stop as we walked through narrow dirt paths in the rural areas, full of stray dogs, donkeys and the odd local. We arrived and prepared dinner, later meeting Ken and a Saffa who was with him. The girls and I decided to head to Iruya the next day, which we had all heard (randomly from the same French couple I met at Puerte de Inca) was amazing and well worth the trip. To keep moving, we decided to get the morning bus out there, approximately three hours, spend a few hours there and then return that afternoon, to then board a bus to the border of Bolivia at La Quica - more than 9 hours on the bus.
The drive up to Iruya was incredible! It was the roughest bus ride I have been on to date, weaving its way through very rural country side, over streams and rivers and along banks with very high drop offs. The windy corners were so sharp that the outside wheel of the bus would barely complete each turn, probably flicking stones over the edge. We climbed up to 4000m before dropping down into the valley. Iruya came into sight, chiefly a large yellow church perched on the side of the hill above the river. Some stupid woman on the bus had a go at me (at least I think she was) for taking lots of photos out of the open window. She was pretty rude, at some stage on the journy climbing onto my seat and leaning out of my window to take photos, even though I had earlier helped her to open hers.
We were lucky enough to arrive on the day the town was celebrating the 250th year of the towns foundation, so there were a few ceremonies and speeches etc. The town comprises several steep streets to explore and cute kids running around. The people up north certainly look a lot more native and Bolivian than anyone we have seen in Argentina. We had lunch in a small hole in the wall place, in part to kill time before the bus which was in a few hours time. We tried llama stew, lamb stew and some more empanadas. Llama was pretty darn good really, and I am sure it won´t be the last time I eat it.
The ride back to Humahuaca was more dramatic than the way in, as the sun was not directly in our faces and the clouds were white and puffy, providing great photo ops. We arrived back in Humahuaca in time to book a bus for half an hours time, leaving us just enough time to run around the town for a few photos and to get some food for the 3 hour bus ride up to La Quica.
Our bus arrived half an hour late and we were told it was full, or at least no seats. We had to go so we boarded the bus and took positions on the floor! Fortunately, we would only be on the floor, or standing, for a hour or so until some people got off. We had been a bit worried about lack of accommodation in La Quica given an annual festival was on for the past 9 days, culminating in this weekend. After arriving at at around 1030, we found a couple of cheap rooms (in separate places due to demand) and settled in. We made a walk that night to the square to see what all the festivities were all about. The night life was pretty interesting, mainly one strip of food stalls and ´discos´ in corrugated iron shacks. We did a couple of laps, stopping for beer and sausages every now and again, and joined the other spectators watching the dancing (or lack of). Lot of young people walking around looking pretty wasted. We got propositioned by one old man who was off his face, asking if we liked to dance etc and if Ruth was my wife. We pretended we were to keep him away from Ruth, but he suggested the four of us have a sort of private dance party or something, as he did some crazy sexual ´car wash´spanking type dance. Rather funny!
The next morning we would return to see the bartering market in full swing before heading to Bolivia. I´m looking forward to getting to a new country!
I met an American chap, Ken, on the bus while were having a stop at a small cafateria which had 1 peso empanadas and pizza (cheapest yet). He works for Nature Magazine in America and had a lot of good ideas about travelling North West Argentina. Shortly before arriving in Salta the bus broke down, but a mini van quickly arrived for us to transfer over to. We watched the luggage being pulled out of the holds onto the road before being loaded onto the roof. Neither Ken or I saw our bags on the road and were told they were already up on the roof, but we had our doubts. Our suspicions were confirmed when we arrived in Salta without our bags! We jumped back in the mini van with the driver and headed back to the bus to collect our bags, which were in a hold that had not been emptied.
Finally with our bags, Ken and I made our way around a few hostels settling for a nice one near San Martin park. I did a bit of hand washing and headed up the gondola with Ken to get a good view of the city. Salta is surprisingly large, but doesn´t really seem to have a lot to do, so we both checked out tickets for further north. I had planned to head up north before coming back down a bit half way to meet a connection to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile to start the salt flats. I decided to sleep on it because they needed a booking from Salta for buses that only run twice a week. I am increasingly weary or booking anything more than a day in advance given plans tend to change quite a lot. Ken and I did a circuit of the most significant buildings around Plaza 9 de Julio and got some money out at the ATM, which had a line the longest I have seen to get money out. We found a local burger joint for a sit down meal with the locals. Ken managed to almost put a toothpick through his lip as he bit into his burger!! We left and took some night shots of the Plaza.
Upon returning to the hostel, I met two girls from Canada who had come down from Bolivia. After talking to them for a bit and going down stairs to a nice ice cream palour, I decided against going to San Pedro de Atacama (given the bus ticket was 180 pesos) and instead fast track it up north and cross the border at La Quicas.
Ken and I headed off to the bus station the next morning for a bus up north. Ken was making his way up to far north to Humahuaca and make his way back down stopping at several towns. I decided I would go to Humahuaca too, but stopping several times en route as the towns didn´t seem to warrant any more than an hour. Upon board the bus, I met Ruth and Rhake, who I had met previously in Uruguay and more recently in Puerto Natalas. They were evidently still on the gringo trail heading up the border of Bolivia that day. I convinced them that there was plenty to see on the way so they joined me on my flying trip of the north west towards bolivia.
We said goodbye to Ken at Juyjuy, where the tree of us would transfer to a smaller bus to Pumamarca, which is famous for the moutain of seven colours. The buses really are getting cheap now, with the hour and a half journey costing only 6 pesos! I passed time on the bus talking to a local chap. Looking at him I knew he was either gay or a hairdresser (long nails, pony tail with pink clip etc), and it turned out he was indeed a hairdresser. I got some good conversation practice in and learned a few new words.
Arriving in Pumamarca was pretty amazing. It is a very small town but it sits below the mountain which has distinct bands of colours. Before setting off on our walks to various miradors, we figured out the bus time to the next town, Tilcara, which left in 2 hours. We decided to head to Tilcara en route to Humahuaca, to cover 4 towns in one day! The walk around Pumamarca was incredible, although very windy at times. The mountains were simply stunning and not many tourists around. We took all the photos we needed and stocked up on a bit of food for the next bus ride to Tilcara, which was only 2 pesos!
Tilcara is a pretty small sleepy town, which attracts more Argentinan tourists than foreigners. It is a well presented town with nice eating spots and cobbled streets. We only had an hour and a half before the next bus so we ran around eating llama empanadas and heading up the hills behind the town for a better view. Incredible thunder and lightening shook the entire village at times, although we were lucky it did not rain. Walking around the streets of Tilcara reminded me of Nepal, with narrow dirt tracks and small dirt shacks. A nice change from the big cities!
We again hit the minimercardo to get food for the bus ride and also dinner for the night. We decided to head to the HI Hostel upon arriving in Humahuaca, which is where I knew Ken would be. The hostel was ages from the bus stop as we walked through narrow dirt paths in the rural areas, full of stray dogs, donkeys and the odd local. We arrived and prepared dinner, later meeting Ken and a Saffa who was with him. The girls and I decided to head to Iruya the next day, which we had all heard (randomly from the same French couple I met at Puerte de Inca) was amazing and well worth the trip. To keep moving, we decided to get the morning bus out there, approximately three hours, spend a few hours there and then return that afternoon, to then board a bus to the border of Bolivia at La Quica - more than 9 hours on the bus.
The drive up to Iruya was incredible! It was the roughest bus ride I have been on to date, weaving its way through very rural country side, over streams and rivers and along banks with very high drop offs. The windy corners were so sharp that the outside wheel of the bus would barely complete each turn, probably flicking stones over the edge. We climbed up to 4000m before dropping down into the valley. Iruya came into sight, chiefly a large yellow church perched on the side of the hill above the river. Some stupid woman on the bus had a go at me (at least I think she was) for taking lots of photos out of the open window. She was pretty rude, at some stage on the journy climbing onto my seat and leaning out of my window to take photos, even though I had earlier helped her to open hers.
We were lucky enough to arrive on the day the town was celebrating the 250th year of the towns foundation, so there were a few ceremonies and speeches etc. The town comprises several steep streets to explore and cute kids running around. The people up north certainly look a lot more native and Bolivian than anyone we have seen in Argentina. We had lunch in a small hole in the wall place, in part to kill time before the bus which was in a few hours time. We tried llama stew, lamb stew and some more empanadas. Llama was pretty darn good really, and I am sure it won´t be the last time I eat it.
The ride back to Humahuaca was more dramatic than the way in, as the sun was not directly in our faces and the clouds were white and puffy, providing great photo ops. We arrived back in Humahuaca in time to book a bus for half an hours time, leaving us just enough time to run around the town for a few photos and to get some food for the 3 hour bus ride up to La Quica.
Our bus arrived half an hour late and we were told it was full, or at least no seats. We had to go so we boarded the bus and took positions on the floor! Fortunately, we would only be on the floor, or standing, for a hour or so until some people got off. We had been a bit worried about lack of accommodation in La Quica given an annual festival was on for the past 9 days, culminating in this weekend. After arriving at at around 1030, we found a couple of cheap rooms (in separate places due to demand) and settled in. We made a walk that night to the square to see what all the festivities were all about. The night life was pretty interesting, mainly one strip of food stalls and ´discos´ in corrugated iron shacks. We did a couple of laps, stopping for beer and sausages every now and again, and joined the other spectators watching the dancing (or lack of). Lot of young people walking around looking pretty wasted. We got propositioned by one old man who was off his face, asking if we liked to dance etc and if Ruth was my wife. We pretended we were to keep him away from Ruth, but he suggested the four of us have a sort of private dance party or something, as he did some crazy sexual ´car wash´spanking type dance. Rather funny!
The next morning we would return to see the bartering market in full swing before heading to Bolivia. I´m looking forward to getting to a new country!
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