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Published: October 12th 2005
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Salta
A statue made of salt. Well, I've seen a whole lot of llamas and cactus' since i last wrote... sorry it's been a while.
I'll resume the update of my adventures just after Puerto Iguazu, where my fabulous idea of a stopover in Tucuman to avoid a late-night arrival in Salta, was not so fabulous. Tucuman was a bit of a 'hole'. The only redeeming feature being my chance to watch the crowning of 'Miss Independencia 2005'. A thoroughly amusing event thanks to the 'interesting' fashion the hopefuls were sporting.
I made a pretty hasty exit from Tucuman and arrived in Salta 4 hours later. Salta was a nice place, with lots to see and do. I took a day-trip from there, around some incredible hills that were all the pretty colours of the rainbow, and then on to see some salt flats. At the time, I thought it was pretty amazing but it has been paled in comparison to some of the sights I've since seen.
From Salta to San Salvador de Jujuy (Jujuy for short), 2 hours North. I'd heard that this place was going to be jumping, but most of the activities that people do in Jujuy I'd already done
Salta
A whole lotta salt, on the salt flats. from Salta. It didn't leave a whole lot to occupy my time so I only stayed 2 nights. Also, I was pretty eager to get to my next destination: Bolivia.
I was getting really excited on the trip northward when I saw the slow transformation in the landscape. The roads started to become less like roads and more like well-worn paths in the dirt. The dust kicked up a little higher from behind the wheels. The ubiquitous rosary beads hanging from the rear-view-mirror swayed from side-to-side a little more vigorously than before.
And, as soon as I hit the other side of the border, I knew I was in Bolivia (the big sign that said 'Bolivia' probably had something to do with it too). There were street stalls spilling halfway onto the street, women carrying huge loads on their backs, wrapped in amazingly coloured, woven fabric and men with massive wads of coca bulging, like golf balls, in the sides of their cheeks.
The border town of Villazon was quite the crazy little place. The owner of the hotel was more concerned about my safety than I was, so he made a point of escorting me everywhere
Salta
More salt. The pools of water are a result of the extraction of the salt for processing. I needed to go. He came with me to get my money changed and to buy my bus ticket out of there, to Tupiza and he left me with a long set of instructions of what not to do and what I should be careful of.
By the end of the (very dusty) 2 hour bus ride to Tupiza it felt like I had half the desert stuck up my nose. Each time the bus swayed, the curtains bumped against the window and a puff of dust would fill the air, at which point I'd try and hold my breath.
Tupiza was a nice little town. It was here, when I was walking down one of the streets, that I bumped into Heinz. It was quite the coincidence because we didn't know what each others travel plans were after BA. Even more of a coincidence was that his good friend, Marius (Maus), had since joined him on the trip and it turned out that Maus had applied to Monash and I had actually handled his application and talked to him a couple of times. He even remembered my last name.
Heinz and Maus had also booked on
the same 4-day tour of the area as I had, so two days later we headed off on what was an awesome tour. We drove all day in a convoy of two Jeeps with me in one Jeep with 4 Canadians and the boys in the other Jeep with a Swiss couple. I made the mistake of going horse-riding the day before the tour so it didn't make for a comfortable, all-day car trip. Also, the music that our tour guides were playing didn't make the trip too comfortable either. They played the same 4 tapes of traditional Bolivian music for 4 days non-stop. I think I would actually like traditional Bolivian music if it weren't for that experience.
The attached pictures say more than what I possibly ever could about the weird and amazing landscapes that we saw on our trip.
We arrived in Uyuni after our four days and headed straight to the bus terminal to our next destinations. One of the Canadians, Izzat, does volunteer work in Potosi so he invited us to stay at his place for a few days. Potosi is a a nice little town, previously made wealthy by the mineral deposits
in the 'Cerro Rico', the hill overlooking town. Now, the minerals have waned but the hill is still heavily mined. One of the main tourist attractions is doing an exhausting tour through the mines, which we did.
The conditions in the mines are really shocking. Children start working in the mines when they are 13 and they're are not expected to live beyond the age of 40, due to a combination of frequent accidents in the mines and health problems; mostly respiratory. Their days start early and continue for beyond 12 hours. For this whole time they don't eat, just chew coca and drink the 'refrescos' that are offered by the constant visiting tourists. The temperatures in the mines range from below freezing to above 40 degrees. We were only in the mines for 3 hours and that was too much for us. It's beyond comprehension how the miners do it every day.
From Potosi, Maus, Heinz and I caught a 2 hour cab ride to Sucre, the official Capital City of Bolivia. It's quite a popular trip to make so there are frequent taxis going back and forth throughout the day. Once we reached Sucre, we booked
ourselves into a rather swanky hotel, complete with private bathroom and cable TV and then met up with two of the other Canadians on my tour, who are doing volunteer work in Sucre.
Sucre is definitely my favourite city so far. It's not a big city so it has a nice, relaxed feel about it. There are great bars, cafes and restaurants that make you think you could be in any European city. In the 10 days that I ended up staying there, I spent a few afternoons at the top of one of the hills overlooking the city, watching the sun set whilst sipping a cocktail. I also spent a couple of days being violently ill from food poisoning. I managed to catch up on 3 months of no TV for those few days.
Now I'm back in Potosi. I came here to meet up with Georgia and Anna (Aussies that I met in BA) and to see the parade for the 'Fiesta de Ch'utillos'. While we were planning the days events over breakfast we were approached and asked if we wanted to dance in the parade. We thought about it for a bit, then said, "sure,
why not!".
We got all dressed up in traditional costume but they only had two dresses so I had to dress in the boys clothes and didn't get a chance to break my 10 year spell of not wearing a dress. We danced in a group of about 40 Bolivians who called themselves ' I.N.C.A'. I can't remember what it stood for but it was something to do with pro-farmers. They were all so lovely to us and so excited to have 'gringas' with them. They showered us with a lot of alcohol; The 96% proof alcohol that the miners drink, made barely drinkable by a splash of pineapple juice.
For 7 hours we danced and amused ourselves as well as the many Bolivian onlookers who laughed and cheered the loudest when they noticed a 'gringa' in the parade (it wasn't hard because all 3 of us towered above the Bolivians).
Now, I can truly say that I know what it feels like to be a rock star. I think we were the most photographed people in the parade. People were handing us babies to pose with. I was interviewed 3 times by radio announcers wanting an
'Arbol de Piedra'
One of many odd rocks in the desert, shaped, over time, by the wind. interview with one of the only 3 'gringas' dancing in the parade of 10,000 Bolivians. It was definitely a highlight of the trip. I'm paying for it today though. I don't think I'm built for dancing for 7 hours.
We were planning to leave for Sucre today but we had a bit of an incident with the laundry, in that they have our washing and they aren't open today. We'll probably leave tomorrow, spend a day in Sucre and then go on to Cochabamba, and then on to the animal refuge where we'll work for the next fortnight.
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