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16/03/09
So Mike and I left our hostel and headed to the travel shop from where we booked our salt flat trip through to pick up our bus tickets. We had an extra spring in our step after an amazing few days on the salt flats. Either that or it was because we had hardly any clothes in our backpacks!ha We walked through the doors and we could tell within a split second by the mans face that he had forgot to book our tickets to Potosi. We jumped into his car and raced us down to the bus terminal. Well, a sandy street with a few run down looking huts. The bus was full but he managed to persuade the driver to let us sit in the isle if we gave him cash. Our man told us that we would only have to sit in the isle for about an hour tops as people would be getting off and as we knew the seven hour bus ride was supose to be a very slow and bumpy one we were pleased with that. We got on last with our backpacks and used them as seats. Boy did we get
some looks! As the hour approached Mike and I realised that there was no chance we were going to get seats. The bus kept picking people up so the isle was full of people. We spent the whole journey sitting on our backpacks till our bums went numb and then standing till we got the feeling back again. We did make the most of it though. At one point Mike and I sat down facing each other and started playing cards which made loads of people laugh. Also the scenery was amazing. The road was almost none existent but the view more than made up for the discomfort. Wouldn't want to do it again though!ha We arrived at Potosi by 5pm, the highest city in the world. 4060m high and also an Unesco world heritage site. We contimplated getting a taxi to our hostel but feeling the need to stretch our legs and stick to a budget we decided to walk. Not the best decision we have ever made! Walking up hill with our backpacks at the altitiude almost killed us. And when we arrived at our hostel and checked into our room we met a couple from our bus
who took the taxi. It cost them 7b. Well done to us, we went through that torture to save...60 pence!ha You should have seen the look Mike gave me!ha The hostel, Koala Den, seemed a good hostel though with big comfy bunk beds. I also learned a bit of Spanish from the bed sheets as they were covered in farm yard animals with the English and Spanish name next to each one. The Argentinian bloke next to me said he also learnt some English from me bed sheets! We walked into the centre of town to meet some English lads from our salt flat trip and it was very easy to see why it was a world heritage site. Tiny pebbled streets and verly old but yet beautiful buildings. After meeting the lads we all booked the mine trip for the next day through our hostel and had an early night. Mike and I were exhausted!
17/03/09
After a geat breakfast (which is so rare to find in hostels!) we all jumped into a mini bus to take us to get fitted up and prepared for our mine tour. You could see why the Lonley
Miners Street.
Where we bought the dynamite. Planet recommends booking this trip through Koala Den as the guides were great from the very start and you get provided with good equipment and clothing. Our second stop was the mineral factory where we got taught all about the process after the mining. We then headed to Miners Street. This is where you can but gifts for the miners that your going to meet down in the mines. We bought drinks, coca leaves and...dynamite! You could actually buy a stick of dynamite and the detonators for about £2! So after our shopping trip we were on the bus again and off to the mines. It was a wierd feeling being in a packed minibus with enough dynamite to blow up a house. Something i never thought i would experience. We all bought balaclavas so it was only natural we took some bad arse photos. Wearing a balaclava and holding dynamite, i felt it was as close as i would ever get to being a true bad arse!ha All the joking around soon turned into the exact opposite. I dont think any of us had any idea to what was to come. As soon as you enter the mine you
miss breathing in the fresh air you alway take for granted. On the first level there was a small museum about the history of the mines and how the miners lived. Out of about 20 of us, half the people stayed at this level. They were four levels in this mine. The fourth level was 250m into the mine and 40m deep. All of our group of 7 managed to get to the bottom level. A task that wasn't easy. By the time we got down there we could hardly breath and we were all roasting hot. It felt like someone was sat on my chest. We found miners working on level four and we sat there with our guide talking to them for about ten minutes. It was then that we found out that three miners died in that very mine about four months ago. The mine caved in and they could here them scream through the rocks for three days before the voices finally stopped. They couldnt get to them in time. At that point i remember Mike turning around and looking at me. He didnt need to say a thing. We all wanted to get out of
there as soon as! But at that point, because we were so deep, we knew we had about an hour and a half to work our way to the top. That was a horrible feeling. On the way through the mines you come across a miner in the pitch black taking a break just chewing on coca leaves. We stopped to talk to one of them. He was a 48 years old with five children. Two of which work in the mines. The man told us that he knew he only had a few years to live. He could feel it in his chest. With everything they breath in in the mines and the chemicals they use the miners have such a short life expectancy. I remember sitting by this mans side as our guide was translating what he was saying and just looking into his eyes. I have never seen such sadness in someones eyes before. I felt so insignificant and stupid as we handed him a bottle of drink and some dynamite. But on the other hand if it wasnt for tourists going to places like these it wouldnt give the miners, like our guide Juan, the chance
to get out of the mines. Our guide learnt English at college after working in the mines and eventually got into tourism. Towards the end our guide gave us the opportunity to take a route where we would be on our own for about 20 mins and where we would be crawling through gaps along our stomachs. The six of us English lads decided to do it together and bloddy hell...there were some tight spaces!ha But seeing the blue sky as we were exiting the mine was one of the best sights i have ever seen in my life. God knows how the miners do it day in day out. But they have no choice i suppose. We blew up some dynamite shortly after leaving the mine which was definately needed to lighten the mood. We even got the chance to take a picture of all of us smoking lit dynamite! Watching them explode and being amazed by the noise i turned round to our guide and said, "thats like me in bed!" Juan turned round laughing and patted me on the shoulder, "Your a funny man!" The guides with Koala Den were the best! It wasn't till we were
all sat back in the bus we realised how bad we all smelt. The mixture of sweat and various chemicals. Even after a very long shower you could still smell it. Mike and I had to race to the bus terminal at 8.45pm to catch a bus to La Paz. We planned to be in La Paz for a week to do some Spanish lessons. It didnt take long for us to drift off to sleep. It had been a long and emotional day.
The Potosi mine tour for me is a must. Its experiences like this that change you for life.
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