Uyuni to Sucre

---

We made an early start to the bus station and onto the Diana tours bus. There were lots of travellers milling about and half-burnt diesel in the air. The bus driver was separated from the passengers by a door, that is locked in transit. Luckily the promised video presentations did not eventuate - no more violent movies thanks. We made many stops for more passengers, almost all locals. The approach of the bus was heralded with few beeps. Passed what seemed to be a toxic waste dump – not very well contained. Passed over a mountain pass that must have been 5500m – certainly could feel the lack of oxygen. Made a scheduled ablutions stop that was rich in sights and smells. On the positive side, despite little large vegetation, the colours and textures of the rocky mountains were constantly changing. We came off the road several times to accommodate road works – presumably a feature of the dry season. Potosi was the intermediate stop, after 5 hours on the bus. We definitely did not see the pretty side of Potosi. Looked like a hard working mining town, and does have that reputation. We stopped from an hour and enjoyed a rustic lunch of unknown meat and quinoa soup.

We then hired a taxi and driver to get us through to Sucre. All of us plus our gear pushed the small Toyota station wagon to the limit. The driver raced us out of Potosi, up the steep hills, out past the unused lead or zinc smelter and onto a more fertile-looking plain. We had to ask him to slow down because we were fearing for our lives at this stage. He did accept that we were in no hurry, but when the drivers-side rear wheel starting thumping around the corners, there was some more motivation for him to slow down. It sounded to me like a bearing, but just to be sure the driver hung his head out an open door – while we were speeding along of course. Pitstop at a pretty suspension bridge built by the Spaniards. Landscape greened-up considerably as we approached Sucre – at least in comparison with the Salar. We then moved into rolling hills and grassland. Lots of downhill still had to happen. We were more worried about the connections between car and wheel at the time. Sucre spreads up the valley. We passed the Castilla de la Glorieta, which we enjoyed exploring a few days later. Central Sucre is very attractive and as a splurge, we had booked into the Hotel la Posada which turned out to be lovely. Hot showers, sunny gazebo and strong Wi-fi. Walked into the main square and found La Taverna just off it. We enjoyed an outstanding dinner including Chateaubriand of Bolivian meat that unfortunately the restaurateur knew relatively little about. The Bolivian Syrah (Shiraz?) was also good though the Merlot lacked a lot.

Back at the room we discovered that our air tickets from Sucre to La Paz had been cancelled on account of the collapse of the airline, Aerosur. This put the cat amongst the pigeons for we travellers. By morning (31/7) we had a plan for addressing the issue. Bill, Wendell and Catherine spent hours working with travel agents to sort this one out. We ended up booked into flights that were a day later and with the airline Aerocon. Many complexities of methods of payment, alternative dates and ticketing – but done.

The museums in Sucre were excellent. First we visited the Museum of Liberation and saw the original declaration of independence. The history emphasised the links between a strong and independent academic community in Sucre and the independence movement. The guide gave us many stories about Simon Bolivar and the leaders of the revolution, including General Sucre and “Joan of America”. Portraits of all the presidents including one woman, for a year around 1979. Interesting that some presidents came back into power as much as twenty years after their original reign. We noted but didn’t comment on Evo Morales’ strange upper lip. Doesn’t seem to really be the case, but makes for an interesting portrait. Also learnt that Bolivia has two official flags. One is a multi-coloured patchwork that denotes the integration of the many indigenous cultures. We looked at a range of reprinted maps from a hawker, and I bought a nice reprint of a world map circa 1630 for about $A15. The streets were quite crowded but the people around the square were relaxed and friendly. Bill talked with one of the square “police” who noted he had not been paid for the last three months and was looking for a bit of help. A polite “No” was his reply.

We also visited the Ethnographic museum which had an excellent display of textiles, hats, musical instruments, as well as a description of the rituals and dances of the major ethnic groups in Bolivia. The guide was ready in an instant to demonstrate a dance or an instrument. In a related museum we found an interesting display around a magician / ventriloquist from the early 1900s. Kind of a Houdini character who enhanced his act with buckets of blood and screams from the assistants. The grand nephew of the Great Tonnelli was there and through Bill, explained some of the historical context as well as the “secrets” behind the tricks. There was some tenuous and unclear links to the family behind the Castle of Glorietta.

The ticketing issues sorted and paid for, we found a relatively touristic pub, looking for Pisco Sours or the local equivalent. Met up with an Italian couple we had seen, and Bill had helped, on the bus from Uyuni to Potosi. We subsequently met them again. While there are many people on the road, the paths are pretty well worn and common.

Around Sucre streets on the first of August, we enjoyed a lunch of Saltenas. These were a highlight. Like an empanada but with more gravy. The stores that sell them produce a certain number each day and these are presented fresh. Once they are gone, that is it. Interesting that the Spanish use the word Jugo for juice, as well as gravy. Jugo con Leche relates to fruit smoothies. Finally after some build up, we headed out to Glorieta via cab. This castle or private villa was extremely opulent and reflected the financial success of mining in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries. The ceilings incorporated Christian imagery and well as devil worship illusions. Apparently the miners of Potosi have always worshipped El Tio, the devil, to make the venture successful and keep them, vaguely, safe. The couple who developed the castle, accumulated this unbelievable wealth and achieved a level of recognition from the royal classes in Europe – he was the richest man in Bolivia at the time. The building was started in 1893 and took several years to complete. Complete marble fireplaces, exotic woods and engraved glass was brought in from Europe, along with the masons and artisans to work with these materials. The marquetry flooring was truly amazing demonstrating up to four different levels of pattern including cubes and stars. The marble fireplaces came in one piece and had been quarried at the same place used by Michelangelo for his work. Francisco Argandoña and his wife had no children, and so that turned half of the castle into an orphanage. At least 32 orphans from the local orphanages cycled through Glorieta and were taught by Nuns while there. The quality of appointments in the two wings of the castle were stunningly different, even though some of these differences needed to be imagined, given that the castle and its contents were sacked soon after the death of the last Argandoña in the 1930s. Gold, silver and wine were looted by the local farmers. Now in the hands of the government, the building is only a tourist attraction. Nearby land was sold in the 1950s and now houses a military academy and soon a convention centre. A small stream runs between Glorieta and the academy and we were surprised to see cadets collecting their drinking water directly from this obviously polluted stream. We took a community minibus back to town and stopped near the square. We were excited to see that there would be a traditional music recital at 1900 that evening – unfortunately for us planning or punctuality went completely astray. We shared dinner that evening at the El German, vegetarian restaurant which had very generous serves of simple vego fare. Looks like a haunt for local foreigners in Sucre to study Spanish.

2^nd August We made an early start to the airport to take up our hard-earned tickets to La Paz. We ended up in a Aerocon Metro 23, which was a bit of a treat for some of us. I (Greg) often travel in regional Australia in one of these planes and I enjoy seeing the landscape via the windows “at the pointy end”. We got a great view of La Paz and the steep slopes leading up from the gorge and onto the high plain at El Alto. It was a clear day so we had a great view of the snow-capped Illimani and Huayna Potosi. At 4000m the air was thin, but less of a problem for us than last time we came through. We took a cab down to our hotel “La Maison”. Even the taxi drivers have trouble finding this place. Our rooms weren’t ready so we headed further down the hill on foot. Maps were scarce so we followed our noses. A little erroneously as it turned out. We made our way down to Plaza Abaroa and found Alexander Coffee there - kind of a Starbucks Bolivian style. Great food. From there down to the 6^th of August Avenue and through the throng. We opted to find a tourist information office and that meant a short bus ride up-town. We hopped on a bus that was a shortened US-style school bus: at least 40 years old. Passengers were cheek by jowl. An older gentlemen got up to give me a seat. This meant far bit of jostling and rearrangement. I sat down and soon after there were bags around my head dislodging my hat and sun glasses. While this distraction was being delivered, someone lifted my Blackberry out of a zipped compartment within my camera bag. I didn’t discover this until I got out of the bus and it was long gone. I noticed some of the other clips also released, so it was only a matter of time before my wallet would have been gone also. I was a little shaken.

We continued walking up to the areas of San Sebastian and Zona Norte. All quite steep roads but historical sites distributed throughout. The elevation is probably about 3600m, still higher than we had walked in Nepal. We walked down the lovely Calle Jaen which is narrow, flanked by pastel coloured building and cobbled. Lunch at a little place which opened directly on the Calle. There were a number of little (read dodgey) museums here including a museum of culture, one of naval history (Bolivia still asserts the right to access to the ocean through Chile) and one on precious metals. The latter was interesting enough. Catherine found the museum of musical instruments entertaining. Finally down to the tourist office to plan our next day. Navigating on foot in this area was a bit of a treat with North-south arranged strangely on the map, and the points of interest marked well away from their real location. We stumbled on the really touristic area of Sagarnaga Ave and a little Huasi pensa (pub) inside a hostel. We booked for a show. Catherine and I went back to the Coffee Alexander to check that I hadn’t mistakenly left my Blackberry there, but no such luck. Back to the Huasi by 1930 and settled in for dinner and a show. Dinner highlights were a massive steak called “Amazon catfish” and Llama kebabs. One must conclude that catfish are huge in Amazonia! The music performance was excellent, but the dancing, initially good, degenerated into Las Vegas-style prancing in expensive costumes. We had to do it really.

---