Grumps, lumps and bumps in Bolivia

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29th March to 17th April

Travel in Bolivia is a story of opposites. After a private taxi ride from Sucre to Potosi, which was pleasant, comfortable and cheap, we arrived to find there were no tickets avilable for a bus to Uyuni that night. A night in Potosi, at an elevation of 4070 metres was not what was needed as I was starting to struggle slightly with altitude sickness. The following morning was chaos. There was a transport strike and every major road had a blockade of trucks preventing all traffic from entering or leaving the city. It looked like I wouldn't be getting to Uyuni for a while. Then, a saviour arrived in the form of a woman that had to get to Uyuni too as she worked for a tour agency there. After a few phone calls, a military style operation ensued. She arranged for a lucky few to take a covert taxi ride through the backstreets to a bus bound for our destination, waiting on the outskirts of town (next to the local prison, actually).

Although I was very grateful to the woman for getting us all on that bus, I half wished I hadn't caught it. Even though it was only a six hour journey, it felt like the longest I have made on my travels so far. It was cramped, dirty and very smelly (or rather the woman with the constantly screaming baby sitting next to me was). Couple that with some of the bumpiest roads I've ever experienced and you can see why I was having trouble dealing with this particular trip. Then, in true South American styley, something random happened to change my thoughts from those of despair. In this case, the interminable local music droning out of the buses PA system stopped (relief enough) and, after a brief pause, was replaced by a 70's pop tape of the cheesiest kind. Despite the fatigue and discomfort you feel when travelling in such poor conditions, you can't help but smile when your ears are assaulted by the likes of The Nolan's "I love to love" and The Village People's "In the Navy." Suddenly, things don't seem quite as bad.

In Uyuni, I managed to get booked on a four day tour of the surrounding geological features, starting the next morning. Here's a brief round up;
Day 1; The train graveyard, Salar de Uyuni (salt flats), Isla de Pescado (Fish Island-don't ask me why it's called that, I only know it's covered with Cacti), Volcan Ollague (an active volcano, viewed from a slightly dissapointing distance) and finally across Salar de Chiguana.
Day 2; Arbol de Piedra (tree of rock) and Laguna (lake) Colorada (which was very windswept and very red due to the plankton the the very numerous Flamingos eat). Our guide kept promising us a pink bird for dinner but, it never transpired.... I think!
Day 3; Sunrise at the Geysers (self explanatory I hope) Sol de mañana, followed by a dip in some hot springs before breakfast then on to Laguna Verde (green, that is- and it was quite too but, the reflections off it were more impressive).
Day 4; Valle de Rocas (valley of rocks- do you see a pattern emerging in the translations yet)? and finally a visit to San cristobal, a town they moved lock, stock and barrel, 12km to accommodate a silver mine.

No words can describe the otherworld beauty of the places listed above. You'll just have to look at the photos (hopefully, there are, or will be in future, some attached to this blog entry or you're one of the lucky few- everyone I know- that gets an invite to view my entire albums on a different site). The tour was worth every minute of the four days spent bouncing around in a jeep and staying in freezing accomodation. I think you'll agree when you see what I've experienced.

After a short but, violent bout of food poisoning, I left Uyuni on an overnight train bound for Oruro then, onto a bus for La Paz, Bolivia's capital. The day started in complete sureality. I awoke to find the train I had boarded had seemingly transformed itself in to a boat while I slept. On either side of this camelian transport was a vast expanse of water. Ducks casually flitted between patches of reeds creating ripples on the silvery-blue surface as it shimmered in the dawn sunlight. I blinked constantly, shook my head and tried to make sense of it all. The train was, obviously on a purpose built causeway allowing us to traverse this wetland area on approach to Oruro. I was just starting to think that the water looked so dark and deep in contrast to the golden-green reeds when a pair of dogs appeared in my field of vision, playing ankle deep (do dogs have ankles?) in the shallows! This only caused my brow to furrow further in confusion. I contemplated trying to go back to sleep, hoping that when I woke the second time, perhaps, things might be a tadge more on the normal side. However, this idea was scuppered when the TV in the carriage burst in to life, subjecting us to 8o's pop for the remainder of the journey. I resigned myself to actually being awake and a part of this strange landscape/situation/soundtrack. After all, it's just another everyday morning in South America!

Apart from the company I kept, it was a couple of uneventful days in La Paz. I did manage a wander around the Witches Market, though. Anyone who wanted me to bring them a Llama phoetus home is, sadly, out of luck I'm afraid! Although LaPaz was on my intended route anyway, I did have an alterior motive for being there. It's the jump off point ('scuse the pun) for mountain bike tours down "The World's Most dangerous Road." A 64km ride, dropping over 3,600 metres i 5 hours, mainly on a dirt track with numerous hairpins and drops of up to 4,000 feet at the edge. And no, there aren't any barriers!!....... And yes, Sarah had barred me from doing it!!

There was an ad on TV at home before I left that has a commentary that says something like "do one thing every day that scares you" ('sposed to be good for the heart). Well, I think I had enough scary moments in that one day to keep the old ticker tip-top for the rest of my travels. The exhilleration and sense of achievement outweighed the fear factor in my book, though and some of the scenery (when you dared to take your eyes off the road) was outstanding. The views were somewhat easier to appreciate from the comparitive comfort of the mini-bus on the way back up. Although, thinking about the drops (considering two-thirds of the homeward journey was done in the dark) and the speed we were going, this was probably the scariest part of the tour. Having the stereo blaring out The Foo Fighters "D.O.A" was rather inappropriate, I thought!

The final Bolivian destination was Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca. I arrived with the intention of chilling out for a few days and to fulfill the ambition I have had to visit there since I went to Peru a few years back. I had stood on Taquille, an island in the middle of the lake gazing longingly at the distant snow covered peaks on the Bolivian side. I vowed I would return one day and marvel at them from a wee bit closer. The intention was to achieve this from Isla del Sol, a 2 hour boat trip from Copa, and, while there, to visit the birthplace of Inca legend of creation. However, the weather and just the plain fact I was in Bolivia contrived to throw a spanner in the works. First off, and more to do with my lack of awareness than anything else, I arrived in Copa on Good Friday............... along with half of La Paz! So much for chilling out in a sleepy backwater for a while. Never mind. get over to the island, I thought and attack stage 2 of the plan. Then, the rain set in. I had intended on watching a sunrise and a sunset from the Island of the sun but, all I saw were clouds. I tried to visit the rock of the Sun (where the legend originates) but, the usual tour boats wouldn't go from the south to the north of the island in the rain- they're obviously made of sugar. One enterprising local did offer a passage of sorts, albeit for an extortionate fee. However, I thought better of getting in to an open row boat for an hour when it was difficult to differenciate between the water falling from the sky and that which made up the surface of the lake!

I guess Easter weekend weather is the same the world over. I've spent plenty of these bank holiday weekends getting soaked at scooter runs to the Isle of Wight. I didn't let the weather ruin my fun then and, although it helped to make my time on Isla del Sol different to what I was expecting, I won't let it lessen the impression I have of the island's beauty and mystique. Besides, when it's pouring outside, there's lightening flashing across the entire sky and you're cold, wet and hungry, I'd rather be looking out over Lago Titicaca than The English Channel any day!

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Photos

Geysers!
At Sunrise

Cycling the Salt Flats
Nutters!

Reflections
On Laguna Verde

Unsure Smile
On the World's Most Dangerous Road

Sunset
On Isla del (no) Sol

Comments

[Keith]

Good photo's mate
The Blogs are so much better with the photo's...Keep well. Keith

[Lucy]

Your Blog Entrys are genius and make me smile. It sounds like your having a blast and loving every minute. Glad to hear you're still alive after your bike journey, Sarah was a bit worried! Thanks in advance for my t shirt, i'll buy you a pint on your return!!! Don't forget to keep putting nice looking tanned men (you included obviously) on your blog......... I can look!!! Neil's too white!