A high time in Bolivia

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On crossing the border from Quiaca in Argentina to Villazon in Bolivia we entered a different world. Quiaca had been in sleepy siesta mode (it was 3pm) and in contrast Villazon was a hive of activity, the streets full of shops and stalls spilling out onto the pavement and people everywhere. We pushed our bikes up the main street, dodging the street sellers pushing carts of bananas, bread and empanadas and feeling a little overwhelmed by the crowds and the sudden change of pace and culture. I stopped to buy an orange juice in the street and was served by a child no older than 8 years old, normal in Bolivia.

Like most border towns Villazon didn't hold much attraction for us. It isn't really a typical Bolivian town, more a huge market for Argentines who cross the border to buy consumer goods at a cheaper price than in Argentina. We spent the rest of the afternoon having a look around and trying to find out infomation about the road to Tupiza, our next stop. The tourist info (if you could call it that!) tried to be helpful but lacked any detailed infomation. We only managed to establish that the road was unpaved and in bad condition and it was either 92km or 120km to Tupiza depending on the map. Noone was sure where the villages in the way were located. There is a real lack of any decent maps in Bolivia, right now we are in La Paz and even here we haven't found any good maps, the latest ones are about 20 years old!

We stocked up on provisions for two days cycling in the market. There were no general shops so we had to wander from stall to stall buying the few things we needed and watching out for the friendly stall holders trying to add a few more Bolivianos to the price when we weren't paying attention. It was slightly more time consuming then going to a supermarket as we had done in Argentina but more fun.

The next day we set off early on the bumpy, dusty road north to Tupiza. The first 50km were on a sparsely inhabited high plain. We passed a few houses and a couple of small villages but they seemed almost deserted. Hardly any cars passed us, as the locals in this area don't own many cars, just a few busses and lorries which covered us in dust as they whizzed by. Towards the end of this long 50km we had a more agreeable encounter when two motorcyclists caught up with us and stopped for a chat on the road. Hubert and Jean Louis from France are both currently travelling around South America and for Hubert this is part of a ten year trip with his motorbike and sidecar around the world. He's retired, has sold everything to pay for the trip and is now on the second year of the adventure. Quite inspirational!

Just after Hubert and Jean Louis left us we came to the edge of the plain and a spectacular view of the more fertile valley below. We enjoyed a 10km descent onto the valley and then some spectacular cycling passing several villages and many traditionally dressed women in the fields working on the crops of corn and potatoes and looking after the goats. We cycled through the rugged countryside passed green fields, along the river and through huge red rock canyons. At one moment the valley became so narrow that there we only enough room for the river to pass between the cliffs and the traffic had to go through a 100m tunnel dug into the rocks. It was very dark so we cycled quickly praying that no lorries would arrive in the other direction! We finally rolled into Tupiza, just before dark pleased that having got there in one day we would be able to find a shower and a bed. We were covered from head to toe in red dust, especially where it had stuck to the sun cream and our throats were tickling from all the dust we'd inhaled. Welcome to cycling in Bolivia!

Tupiza (20 000 inhabitants) was a really nice town to have a few days rest and to get to know Bolivia. Surrounded by the rugged red rock canyons and rock formations similar to that which we had cycled through, the small town had quite a relaxed feel to it with very few cars in the roads and lots of young people in the streets. It was warm during the day in the sun and a little cold at night as we were still quite high at 2950m. The first morning whilst wandering aimlessly around town we came across a lively outdoor market or Feria as they are called here (to distinguish them from the regular markets I suppose) full of locals who had come from the villages around. We spent ages just watching the scene as there was so much to see. All the ladies and some of the men were in traditional dress. The women were particularly interesting in their Pollera skirts: knee length colourful skirts over layers of petticoats and sometimes woollen leg warmers, light coloured blouses covered with shawls or short jackets and often a cotton apron. They all had long black plaits attached behind their backs and the most noticeable characteristic of the traditional Aymara dress: the black, brown or green bowler hat. Almost all had an aguayo a kind of hand-woven piece of cloth that they use as a sling across their backs to carry everything from groceries to babies.

The women who wear traditional dress are called Cholas and there have been many in all the places we have been so far in Bolivia. However, except for in small villages we haven't seen many young people in the dress which has made us wonder if the tradition will continue. We asked a few young women who said that they preferred to wear western clothes because the traditional dress is so expensive (apparently the hat costs about 50 dollars alone). In reality though I think they understandably prefer to avoid the dress for the stigma that is attached to it of being a campensino. There are however now women in Parliament who proudly dress in the tradition style so who knows, maybe there is a future for the dress. It’s not very practical for cycling though so I decided to stick to what I know!

Our worries about Bolivian food were also quelled in Tupiza where there was a variety of very cheep and quite nice local food as well as a whole host of restaurants selling more expensive but still cheap western food. We have still been enjoying the variety of different traditional dishes for the set lunch, almuerzo, as we had done in Argentina only here it's even cheaper often only 6 Bolivianos (40p).

The people as well have been lovely, contrary to what we had heard before coming to Bolivia. We had been told that the people living on the altiplano (high plain) can closed and unfriendly but we have not found that to be true. Whenever we buy something or ask for infomation our exchanges are always full of smile and jokes. We don't usually have long conversations with the Chola women as I suppose our worlds are to far apart but we can always have a chat about the favourite topic of conversation: how cold it is. It is really great to be able to speak Spanish, you can learn so much more about a country of you can speak the language. Our Spanish still isn't that great but we were told recently that it is as good as the President Evo Morales, so that’s not bad! (I think the comment was actually more of an insult to Morales!)

We spent four days in Tupiza, relaxing around town and reading about Bolivia. One day we changed methods of transport and went on a horse ride to explore some of the canons and rock formations, one called 'Los Machos', You'll have to study the photo to find out why! It was a nice day out but I don't think we are ready to trade in the bikes yet!

After some reflection we decided to take a jeep tour to explore the south-west corner of Bolivia. This part of the altiplano is very deserted, very high, very cold and only accessible via some terrible dirt roads. It would have been very difficult to cycle. So the bikes got a rest on the roof of the jeep and we joined another really nice English couple, Fiona and Richard, and Frank, crazy French guy, on a 3 day tour around this remote and beautiful region.

During the tour we passed through incredible coloured landscapes mostly over 4000m altitude with the highest point being over 4800m, higher than the Mont Blanc. We stopped at flamingo filled colourful lakes, at bubbling geysers, near to active volcanoes and at deserted cursed villages and other active small settlements around mines. The landscape was surreal, not even the photos can do it justice because of the immense scale of everything.

A few people on similar tours were a little altitude sick so in our jeep we tried the locals technique to combat the effects of altitude: coca leaves. Bolivians chew coca leaves to combat hunger, thirst, tiredness and altitude. The leaves are chewed between the side of the mouth and the gums with a catalyst like bicarbonate of soda. You don't see many people with coca in cities but in small villages on the altiplano the campesinos often have cheeks bulging with the leaves. We all had a go but I can't say any of us really loved it. I didn't notice any effects except the side of my mouth going numb. It could be good for tooth ache I suppose. America would like to eradicate coca growing altogether which is ridiculous considering chewing coca leaves has been in the Bolivian culture for ages and is very different from the cocaine problem in the US. Anyway as long as Evo Morales is President of Bolivia the US will have a hard time getting their way.

On the third night we arrived at the Salar d'Uyuni, which is for most people the highlight of the tour. The Salar is the worlds largest Salt flat (over 12000 square km) situated at 3653m above sea level. It has recently been named the number one wonder of the natural world and has to be seen to be believed. When you are on the Salar it's like being stood in the middle of a huge flat white sea. It's difficult to believe that it's not snow or ice. In the middle of the Saler the salt forms large perfect white hexagon and pentagon shapes as far as the eye can see. It really is unique. The evening we arrived next to the Salar we stayed with a whole bunch of other tourists on similar tours at a salt hotel. The hotel and all the furnishings were made from salt, tables, chairs, beds everything. The floor was a carpet of salt. It felt a bit disneylandish but was amusing and that evening we had quite a party to finish off the tour!

The following day our three friends set off around the Salar and then across to an island in the middle of the Salar and we took a more direct route across the Salar to the island on the bikes. At first it was surprisingly difficult as the salt at the edge wasn't completely dry and hard after the rainy season and so the bikes sunk a little into the salt making it hard work to pedal. We could see the island on the horizon but progress was very slow and we worried we'd never get there to meet the others as we had arranged. Then little by little the salt hardened and suddenly we reached a really dry part and it was like being released from a huge weight dragging us back. We whizzed across the salt, only us feeling very small in this huge white sea, sometimes closing our eyes to see how far we could cycle in the dark.

After 40km we reached the island called Inca Huasi (Inca’s house) but more commonly known as the Isla Pescador (Fisherman´s Island) because during the rainy season the Salar is flooded and the island is surrounded by water (I don't think there are any fish though). Amazingly enough, this little island in the middle of the Salar is covered with Cactus. No one knows how they got there and it's quite a strange sight which makes for good photos. The island is little steep hill which you can climb to the top of for a great view over the Salar. After lunch, together with about 30 other jeeps (!) of tourists, our friends left to finish the tour with the jeep and we stayed on the island so that we could continue on our bikes the next day. There was a little restaurant but no accommodation so we camped with a few extra blankets leant to us by the restaurant staff. It was very cold ( around minus 10) but worth staying as we were able to enjoy a fantastic sunset and sunrise from the viewpoint at the top of the island after and before the hordes of tourist jeeps arrived.

After a chilly breakfast we set off on the bikes again to cross the Salar in a different direction from which we´d came to reach the town of Uyuni. We had about 80km to cycle on the Salar and no easy way to navigate as compasses don't work there and there are very few landmarks. So, following the advice of the locals we chose some jeep tracks and followed them. I don't think we chose the most direct tracks as we ended up doing 10km more than we should have, and we were pretty much alone all day. It was very surreal sat in middle of the pristine white Salar having lunch!

By mid afternoon we reached Colchani, a tiny settlement on the edge of the Salar, where nearly 20000 tonnes of salt is extracted nad processed every year. There were little pyramids of salt waiting to be processed in pools of water all over the place and trying to get through these obstacles I managed to get bogged in with my bike and ended up with wet feet! From Colchani we had another 20km to cycle on a rough road to reach Uyuni and we were pretty tired when we finally got there. The 110km cycled in the day had mostly been on the flat but at 3600m things are a little harder!

Uyuni wasn't a particularly interesting town so we only stayed a day to have a look around. We had planned to cycle to Potosi from Uyuni but when checking out the route on Internet we came across several remarks from cyclists saying that the route was terrible and they had either ended up hitching or taking 5 days to cycle the 240km. As we both had colds and the weather was freezing we decided we wouldn't enjoy 5 days scrambling up and down hills at 4000m and camping at minus 10 or colder at night so we changed our plans and took the bus. In fact, from the comfy (relative) seats of the bus the road didn't seem that bad but there were hardly any villages on the way so we didn't regret our decision bearing in mind the cold. Our sleeping bags are for minus 2 not minus 20!

On arrival in Potosi we made our way to the Ramon family's casa de cyclista (cyclist’s house). In South America and I suppose all over the world there are a few families who open their houses to passing cyclists, usually because they themselves are cyclists. We’d been to a couple of cities with these houses before but have never used them. However we had heard really good things about the Ramon family in Potosi and so we had called them and they had been really welcoming, inviting us to come over as soon as we arrived. The family were really kind but we seemed to have arrived at a rather bad moment. We were welcomed by Florencio and Theodora a lovely couple in their 50s who were both really, really busy. Florencio was working his socks off making bread in the family bakery and Theodora was looking after the house, her 2 year old grandchild and her small shop. She was constantly running between the kitchen and the shop with the 2 year old clinging onto her legs. Added to that there were some heavy family issues going on at the time so the atmosphere was a bit tense. However they insisted we stayed and we were really comfy in a large room they had upstairs where over 100 cyclists had stayed over the last 15 years. Most cyclists had left their photos and some comments in a little book which was really amusing to look through. What struck me most is how the cyclists don't really look that sporty in general and some of them had been gone for 5 years or more and done tens of thousands of miles!

Potosi was a really interesting town, one of the most culturally interesting we've come across in our travels so far. It's the highest city in the world at 4070m and in the seventeenth century, in the peak of it's glory, it was not only the highest but also the largest city in the world with over 200 000 inhabitants. The city's importance came from the silver rich Cerro Rico (Rich Mountain) which at 4800 dominates the city. Silver was discovered in the mountain in 1544 by accident by an Inca called Diego Huallpa. The Spanish conquerors soon learned of the discovery and founded the town of Potosi next to the mountain. Around two billion ounces of silver were extracted from the city’s Cerro Rico during the Spanish colonial era. Cerro Rico silver paved Potosi’s streets and fuelled the European Renaissance. Apparently you could build a bridge from Potosi to Madrid with all the silver from the mountain and you could also build a parallel bridge with the bones from the people who died in the mines. However Potosi's glory didn't last and in the 19th century the output of the mines began to fall, as did silver prices. The city was looted during independence wars and the population fell to less that 10 000 people. During the last century Potosi has had a slow, steady recovery due to tin extracted from the mines and more recently zinc and lead. However the town remains very poor.

Walking around Potosi you can still see the glory of the past in the ornate architecture of the 80 churches and other colonial buildings all around the town. The town is incredibly rich in culture but also very sad at the same time because of its tragic history and because of the mining that still goes on in the Cerro Rico. The men who work in the mines have a life expectancy of about 35 because of the toxic gasses that they are exposed to everyday. There are also a considerable number of young boys who work in the mines, around the town we saw some posters declaring the rights of ‘child miners' to education etc. Child miners seems like it should be a paradox. There are tour groups that go to visit the mines everyday but we didn't really think it was appropriate. We did however see a film in the tourist office about a 12 year old miner working in the Potosi mines. The conditions were terrible.

A royal mint was established in 1672 in Potosi to mint silver coins for the Spanish empire. The building was incredible so we joined an english speaking tour. Unfortunately the normal guide was on holiday and Julio, the replacemant spoke terrible English. It was hilarious, Julio tried to compensate for his lack of English with charades and when he couldn't act out something we had to translate for him. During the tour there was a Reuters camera crew hanging around and at the end of the tour I was asked to do a demonstration of stamping out a coin with a huge iron hammer and then was interviewed about the visit. Apparently it was going to appear on TV all over the world. Did anyone see me??

After a few days in Potosi admiring the colonial architecture and wandering around the narrow cobbled roads, markets, local restaurants and the like we got back on the bikes and cycled to Tarapaya, a hot springs area about 25km from Potosi. We particularly wanted to see the Ojo del Inca (eye of the Inca) a round green lake at 85 degrees Fahrenheit in a volcanic crater. Apparently the Incas used to come here to bathe. The weather wasn't too cold but I didn't dare to take a dip because apparently there are sporadic whirlpools which have sometimes sucked up swimmers in the middle of the crater!

As we didn't get to swim in Tarapaya we made a detour on leaving Potosi direction Sucre for the hot springs in a small village of Chaqui 15km from the main route. The countryside around was very picturesque but cycling to the village was difficult as the road was extremely bumpy and rocky. On the last short climb before arriving in the village we passed a couple from Sucre heading in the other direction in their car. They stopped for a chat, offering us some cold drinks and telling us the best place to stay and swim in the village. In fact there are some communal baths that are full of kids and some older ladies there for the healing properties of the water but what the coupe recommended was a hotel (relaxation centre) with its own private pool and sauna. We opted for the hotel which wasn't as chic as it sounds and quickly headed to the hot swimming pool. There we spent a very relaxing afternoon with the Toledo family from Sucre including the two grandparents, two of their children William and Sandra and the two grandchildren Alejandra (19) and Ariana (16). The family were great fun and told us loads of stuff about Bolivia. At the end of the day they invited us to stay with them when we arrived at Sucre. We accepted with pleasure.

The following morning we set out on the bikes leaving the Toledos relaxing in the pool. We cycled along the bumpy road back to the main asphalt road to Sucre and then whizzed along, mostly downhill until midday when we arrived at the village of Betanzos. We had planned to pass by this village on Sunday because it was Feria, market day and so it made a nice stop off. We left our bikes at the village police station, had lunch and then wandered round the market admiring the traditional dress and all the different food stuffs. The markets are always so full of things to see and ponder over. In several markets we have stumbled across the witchcraft section with a lots of strange items on sale including dried armadillos (sometimes the shell of which is used to make charango guitars) and dried animal (especially llama) foetuses which they usually hang in front of the stores. I don’t usually like to hang around this part of the market incase I annoy anyone who can make curses!

After the break at Betanzos we continued on our way past farming land and small villages. Towards the end of the day we reached the edge of this plain and had a huge downhill into a river valley followed by a few more downs and ups. We wanted to get to the village of Millares where we had heard there was some accommodation. A fat policeman at Betanzos assured us the road was all downhill and would take us about one hour. More than three hours later, chugging uphill we cursed the policeman and his completely unrealistic infomation. Fortunately we arrived at the village just before dark (6pm), unfortunately there was no accommodation and all the helpful village policeman could suggest was to go to Sucre, 60km away! So we left the main road and went down into the tiny hamlet to ask for a good place to pitch the tent or if there was anywhere to stay in the area. There were a couple of ladies sat on their shop doorstep who were much more helpful than the policeman. They first suggested we ask the doctor if we could stay at the hospital (not a very attractive solution) and then decided that they would open the house next door which was temporarily empty. So we pitched the tent in the inside patio of the simple house and had the luxury of light, running water and a lock on the door.

From Millares it was a lot of uphill the next day to arrive in Sucre. We were starving when we arrived close to the town and the last climb up to the city centre was painful. Why did the Spanish build all their Bolivian cities on such slopes ?! After a huge lunch, soup, main course, chocolate cake and more chocolate we felt recovered enough to make our way to the Toledos. Their house consisted of four blocks, one of which they have turned into an ice cream shop around a small central garden area. The whole family live there and made us feel really welcome. Alejandra kindly gave us her room which was much cosier than any hotels we'd stayed in recently. We stayed with the family for three days, everyday having a delicious lunch with them. In the evenings we made pancakes and drank lots of tea together. It was like home away from home.

The town of Sucre is a beautiful city full off whitewashed well preserved colonial architecture. It’s the place where independence was proclaimed and it is the official capital of Bolivia, although the government is now in La Paz. The city seems a lot richer than Potosi and many of the people who make money in Potosi prefer to live in Sucre as the climate is more agreeable (Sucre is at 2790m). There was so much to see in Sucre just wandering around the streets that we never seemed to have enough time to visit all the sights we wanted to visit. One museum that we did get to was Museo Textil Etnographico which houses lots of infomation and examples of the intricate weaving made by the indigenous groups of the Sucre area. Tradition in Bolivia is so strong and present, it´s an amazing country to visit.

After three days we said a temporary goodbye to the family and left our bikes again, this time to get the night bus to La Paz. We do plan to visit La Paz on bikes but this detour was just for a few days to see Le Gran Poder the second biggest festival in Bolivia. The festival began in 1939 as a candle procession led by an image of Christ through some of the poorer neighbourhoods of La Paz. Later folkloric groups began to participate in the parade and now Le Gran Poder has developed into a huge festival with more than 25 000 performers: dancers and musicians, joining in the event.

The parade, which started early in the morning, wound through many of the main streets in La Paz. We reserved some seats on stands in the touristy area of La Paz and had a great view of the parade. All day groups came dancing and singing down the street in magnificent traditional costumes of all different kinds. Apparently some of the costumes cost a fortune which is not surprising when you see all the work involved. There were a great variety of dances too, some reflecting Inca ceremonial dances, others showing the treatment of the black slaves brought to Bolivia and some more modern dances mimicking business men and lawyers, among many others. There were also lots of long legged young ladies in short skirts in typical carnival style. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and as the day went on the festival got wilder as all the participants and spectators consumed copious amounts of beer. The festival went on until about midnight but we retired a little earlier as we had been warned it can be quite dodgy at night with all the drunken men around and we could well believe that would be true!

We only stayed a couple more days in La Paz because although the setting of the city is spectacular in a bowl in the high plain with snow capped 6000m high mountains around the city, we found it a bit too big and busy and not as attractive as Sucre or Potosi. It is also exhuasting to go anywhere in La Paz because the streets are all steep slopes leaving us breathless at 3600m!
So yesterday nighy we caught the bus back to Sucre and we are now back with the Toledo family. We tried suggesting that we stay in a hotel so as not to bother then but they wouldn't hear of it and we are expected back for lunch in an hour! The plan is to leave Sucre tommorow but I'm not sure if the kind hospitality of our Bolivian friends will allow that!

I hope you are all well and enjoying the nice summer weather!
love to all

Rebecca

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