The Bolivia Experience(s)

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Hello Blog Fans

´Tis us again. Bet you thought we´d fallen off the edge of the world what with a lack of the usual twice weekly blog entries. Well, we ain´t and we´re alive and well in the comfort of the Presidential Hotel in La Paz...more about that later. Jon writing this...and have had enough of the third person narrative so back to "me and the missus" I´m afraid.

Has been quite an adventure, so it has. More a sort of Lord of the Rings trilogy adventure than a episode of Friends - with some good stuff and some not so good stuff.

We left you leaving Chile. Shortly after leaving Chile we arrived in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, at an airport not much bigger than Dubbo. I was expecting a little more hassle at the airport (hawkers, people touting for taxi fares etc) but it was pretty calm and easy. We grabbed a taxi to a hotel we´d booked on the outskirts of the city - the hotel was about 300 metres lower than La Paz which is handy when you´ve just gained over 3000 metres in altitude stepping off the plane.

Driving through the streets reminded me of Kathmandu, half constructed brick buildings, small kiosks and busy streets with people dragging carts of produce to sell. La Paz itself is in a valley (like a long thin crater created by a giant chorizo-shaped meteorite) and the city suddenly appears as you drive over the lip of the crater.

The hotel was pretty chilled. Quiet location (or so we thought), helpful staff and a restaurant with a good reputation - basically, a good place to aclimatize. And this was the case for the first day or so. Unfortunately, Natalie slept in a funny position and managed to put her neck out - so plenty of gesticulation in the pharmacy was needed to get some pain killers and cream. And then came the night of the dogs. Ohhh...the night of the dogs.

There are many many wild dogs on the streets of South America. They spend their days sleeping in the sun and the nights living it up in a way that only dogs know how. We assume they go chasing cats, pulling at the ends of toilet rolls and dragging the paper all round the house and doing that special piggy-back thing that you tell kids not to look at. That´s fine...but do they have to make so much bloody noise about it. For some reason the first two nights were OK...but the soundtrack of our third night in La Paz was barking, howling, more barking, followed by silence, then more barking, more howling....you get the picture. The domesticated dogs, missing out on the action, whine from their backyards while the hobo dogs prowl the streets with dog-megaphones. At 2:30am we gave up and hunted out the ear plugs - vowing never to watch Lady and the Tramp again without praying for the Dog Catcher to win the day.

La Paz itself was pretty cool...great to wonder around the stalls in the market and look at bargains etc. A far more interesting city than Santiago.

We planned our departure on a ´luxuary tourist´bus for the Monday night: including lay back seats, food, TV and a 10 hour trip to Uyuni. They didn´t say that they would throw in bumpy dirt roads for seven of the ten hours for free. In fact the first 3 hours were fine...and the next 3 were OK on a flat, well maintained dirt road. At about 4am we hit a pretty challenging section which lasted until we arrived at 9am. To be fair, it was a pretty comfortable bus by Bolivian standards but as you know we ain´t Bolivians (and we´re pretty ´soft´travellers when it comes to it) - so our delicate little bodies were none too impressed (we are finely tuned machines after all!).

What made it worse was that I developed a bit of a fever on Monday afternoon and proceeded to cook for most of the journey. While all those around me wrapped up in hats, fleeces and blankets, I enjoyed the tropical-like conditions of the journey in my t-shirt.

So arrive we finally did in Uyuni, a dusty town in South West Bolivia and the base for 4WD trips to see the famous Salt Flats. Our first destination was bed, and for most of the day to make up for the lack of sleep.

That afternoon we booked a tour departing on the Wednesday morning - to give me a little time to recover. I made a partial recovery, helped by finding the Man Utd-Milan Champions League game on the TV and the fantastic pizzas from Minuteman Pizza, connected to the hotel.

We set off on Wednesday for the Salt Flats with one other chap (I think his name is Raymond, but that may be wrong!) in our 4WD with Raphael our driver. We´d paid more to make sure that we only had 4 passengers maximum in the jeep - a move that was to prove inspired!

Now the Salt Flats are not the Bolvian Government´s pilot scheme for the chronic lack of housing in the area, rather they are a dried up lake whose bottom is literally salt. Here´s the bit I am sort of making up as the Guide Book is upstairs - the flats streatch about 1 hours drive in width (so about 80km) and about 3-4 hours in length (120-160km). At the centre of the lake the salt is up to 9 metres deep and about 4 metres on the edges. The landscape is pure white (well, close to pure)

First stop was the salt processing plant - OK, some huts with a bloke sorting out the salt. It is a pretty simple process. Heat the salt to get rid of the moisture, whack it through a grinding machine, grab plastic bag, fill bag with salt, seal bag on hot thing, put in pile. Repeat many, many times. They don´t export the salt but it goes to locations throughout Bolivia.

Next stop was the Salt Hotel. Guess what that was made out of!? They only allow a few guests to stay there after the government got concerned about where the waste water from the hotel was actually going to. As they say, never eat yellow salt.

And then to the lunch stop at Fish Island - a 100ft high island stuck on the middle of the flats. It had loads of cacti on it so the name was confusing until out guide explained that it was a coral island made from the remains of millions of fish, millions of years ago. I still think Cacti Island is better...or the Amazing Cacti Island of Uyuni. But Fish Island it is.

From here it was a tedios, dusty and bumpy trip to the first nights accomodation in a town called San Juan. Nothing much to report here. The GCSE French came into it´s element as a French lady tried to teach us her version of Rummy. And we had BFC (Bolivian Fried Chicken) for tea. I was still feeling pretty ropey and had a very average nights sleep in the cold.

The next day I consulted the Chief Exec and we made the decision to cut the trip short as the next night was going to be a lot colder and 900 metres higher. The altitude was not helping my illness and the third day of the trip meant 15 hours in the Jeep. So we set off as usual on the route and made it to a couple of cool lakes with rare flamingos paddling, had a spot of lunch and said goodbye to our chum Raymond (who was heading the Chile that night anyway).

It only took 5 hours to make it back to Uyuni and the comfort of the Minuteman Pizzas. More on these now: the restaurant is owned by a US chap from Massachusetts who is married to a Bolivian lady. He makes cracking pizzas and pasta - and is the refuge of pretty much everyone who has just come back from the Salt Flats trip. We ate there about 6 times and I even have the T-shirt.

OK...keep with me. Nearly there.

On Saturday I went to the doctors and was given antibiotics for a throat infection. According to Natalie the locals waiting in line for the doctor were pretty amused by my (loud) explanations to the doctor of my symptoms. Translated to English they would have been something like:
"Hello doctor man. I have ill. I make much heat...then much cold. I have much - cough cough (this is me making cough sounds). In night very bad. I am high in altitude but no different. My wife say I do wheeze (make wheeze sound) at night. Thank you. Yes, no beer or pizza. Thank you. You are a very good donkey...sorry I mean doctor."
Anyway, came away with a bag of pills so that should sort it out. Pity about the beer and pizza though.

Saturday night I treated the wife to an overnight trip on the Express del Sur train back to Oruro with a 3 hour bus to La Paz. It was the smoothest option back (from both a transport and marriage perspective). By this point Natalie had finished her book and exhanged it for a new one titled (and this is not a joke) "How to kill your husband - and other household tips".

I got the message so on arrival in La Paz we headed to the Presidential Hotel. Five star. A bedroom and sitting room in our suite. Two bathrooms (one each - or one for my socks at least). Cable TV, pool, jacuzi, 2 restaurants and a cool internet place where I currently reside.
Natalie is happy again and it should be a good place to recover.

We are changing the plans - if we can sort out a visa for Natalie tomorrow - and heading to Rio de Janiero for a few days. Bolivia is cool but pretty basic and we have 12 days to kill until we need to be in Cusco. Natalie has taken posession of the Swiss Army Knive incase I suggest anymore 8 hour bus journeys, and tedious bus trips is the only way to get around really. Also, the altitude isn´t helping my throat infection...where as cocktails on the beach might just be the thing that Uyuni Doctor was trying to explain to me would help! I´m sure he said "bikini" at some point.

In the meantime we shall relax in style...make use of the facilities (third bath of the day coming up) and get some peaceful sleep.

Hope that didn´t put you to sleep...talking of which....

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Photos

"I´m sorry...you want me to go away for two days in...this?!"
Natalie admires how the jeep can look so comfortable from the outside yet so bone-jarring inside.

Jumping for joy on the Salt Flats
Is this my athletic prowess on display or does the white of the salt make it look like I am jumping much higher than usually possible? Discuss.

Breakdancing title goes to Natalie...
...for her expertly executed cartwheel.

En route to Uyuni...
...and them damn good Pizzas!

Comments

[Pat Pike]

Bolivia
Do hope you recover in the luxury hotel and get plenty of rest ready for the next adventure