Southern Bolivia

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We woke early to make sure we would get through the border in good time, since picking up an American this was no guarantee. We had managed to pick up an Italian with us for the border crossing as he was heading into Bolivia to meet some friends. While it turned out to be a simple border crossing for the four of us from the hostel unfortunately for Simon getting a Bolivian visa can be a bit of a process. For any American that reads this here's a few things to note. Make sure you have the exact cash on you. But the important thing to note is the quality of the dollars in hands. Make sure they are the most perfect note you have ever handled. You see it turns out that they won't accept a note if it has even the slightest imperfection. They will then hand you their currency that has been sticky taped together and still feels as if it's about to disintergrate in your hands.

Finally after giving Simon all my US and with a little help from our new Italian friend we had the correct cash and the visa to go ahead into Bolivia. After the hold up we made our way to the ATM to get our hand on our first Bolivianos. This would be the second hold up in Bolivia. It turns out that Bolivia hates Maestro. Manuela unfortunately was only carrying a Maestro card. This left her feeling just a little bit stressed out about the whole Bolivia situation. After asking around town we were assured that our destination of Tupiza would have the ability to take Maestro. So Forster being the kind soul lent her the cash until we arrived in Tupiza. So deciding there wasn't much we could do about the whole situation we headed to grab some breakfast. This is where we started to question who the hell we had dragged along with us to Bolivia. Manuela in a stressful mood ordered perhaps the most ultimate breakfast in history, pizza and beer. So after our first (dirt cheap) Bolivian breakfast we headed to the bus station for more bad news. It turns out that the next bus to Tupiza wouldn't be for three hours. Luckily there was another solution. It involved again invoking the when in a foreign country I'm invincible rule. So the five of us decided to cram into a taxi to Tupiza. This meant that Manuela had the honour of riding in the boot (it was a hatch back) with our luggage to Tupiza. It was a brief if not bumpy hour an a half ride to Tupiza through some rugged land. Our first taste of Bolivian roads left a lot to be desired. Unfortunately Bolivian roads would never really get better or less perilous.

Finally we arrived in Tupiza and got dumped in front of what would turn out to be a great hostel and tour operator perhaps the only luck we were going to receive early on in this trip into Bolivia. The hostel we stayed at was Valle Hermoso a small HI Hostel run by an awesome guy called Freddy. While it was not exactly 5 star accomodation it did have good hot showers (a rarity in South America) and comfy beds. After spending the day comparing prices for the salt flats tour around town and stocking up on supplies for the journey we ended up signing on with the hostel for the four day tour through south west Bolivia. That night we went and grabbed some booze and finding much to our delight that a 1 lite bottle of rum costs about £6 in Bolivia. After having a few drinks and a very cheap meal out we headed to bed early to be rested for the big next day ahead.

That morning we awoke to perhaps the worst breakfast ever. Some stale bread and probably the worst coffee that has ever been made. But at least we had our tour to look forward to. So after packing up and buying the last minute supplies we waited out front for our vehicle and driver to arrive. When the vehicle arrived I'll admit I was mildly disappointed. While all the other vehicles are relatively modern (within a decade) Landcruisers we were saddled up with a slightly older Nissan Patrol. However the vehicle had plenty of room to fit all of our gear and for me at least ample leg room. Clinton and Manuela however were left slightly cramped in the back. This would also be where we would get to meet our driver and cook for the four days in the wilderness. Our driver was Froilan who by the end of the journey would be nicknamed Falcor and our cook I sadly report I forget the name of. However she was a lovely lady (she said she was 19 but we all severely doubt that could be true) and an awesome cook.

The first day would involve a very long drive through a rough and ever changing landscape. We would climb from the relatively comfortable altitude of Tupiza to over 4500m and eventually rest somewhere around the 4000m mark. Our first lunch of the trip was a good start. It would be the first time I would get to taste Llama. While it isn't exactly the greatest meat on earth it is pretty tasty and does the job while on a long drive. By the end of the day I think we were all getting used to life in the car. Personally I loved the first day. The first time driving on perilous Bolivian roads with stunning views over Andean valleys. Certainly was a very different landscape than I had ever experience in my life so far. That night we arrived in the national park for our first nights accomodation. It has to be said that if you do this trip prepare for the accomodation to be rough and freezing cold.

The second day would be a day of highs and lows. I'm not refering to the changes in altitude here. Unfortunately this would be the point in which Bolivia's well known civil disruption would surface. The day started off rather well. Heading out from our hostel we made our way toward Laguna Verde, a high altitude lagoon which has a greenish colour. The lagoon is set with a stunning mountain backdrop and has flamingos feeding at it's shores. We would then head back to a hot spring which we had passed earlier in the day for a well deserved swim and relaxation in it's warm waters. After another good lunch we were making our way towards 5000m above sea level geysers and another lagoon containing many flamingos. Unfortunately on the way Falcor would deliever us some bad news. It turns out that after blockading Potosi for twenty days the strikes were spreading out. This meant that our destination of Uyuni was now ceased and unable to to be entered. This left us in a bit of a bind. As far as we were told we really only had two options head to Chile and make our way out of Bolivia or continue the trip and pray that the blockade would open.We decided that since Simon had a flight out of La Paz the best idea would be to bypass the rest of south Bolivia and make our way up through Chile instead. Again this didn't go to plan. Our driver was unwilling to go towards the Chilean border alone. It meant he would be withour fuel for the return journey to Tupiza. So stuck in the Bolivian desert we were left feeling just a little powerless and unhappy as we headed to be in the freezing cold of the altitude.

The next morning unable to go towards the Chilean border we were left to head with the convoy towards the Salts Flats of Uyuni. The day turned out to be a rather pleasent day. Despite our predicament we were left in a position of little power so summoning the Aussie spirit we just relaxed and let the journey take us where it would. The day was another long drive through flamingo infested lagoons and outstanding natural scenery. We would pass through high altitude deserts with odd rock formations formed from volvanic activity in the area. Having lunch in a Mars like landscape at the base of a smoking volcano. We would also get our first sights of the Bolivian salt flats. The first we would pass through containing a pre-incan burial site. Here we would also catch up with fellow travellers and gauge thier opinions on what was going on in the region. That night we would reach the edge of the Salar de Uyuni our long awaited highlight of the trip. The hostel we stayed at was made up of largely salt from the surrounding area. A bouns was that the drop in altitude meant that the night was much warmer.

The next morning would be the main event. Finally our tour towards the Salt Flats would actually arrive at Salar de Uyuni. We headed off early to watch the sunrise over the Salar. That and we would get our brief attempt at taking silly photos where you are unable to get a sense of scale due to the flat landscape and no backdrop to gauge the depth. Unfortunately because we were heading back to Tupiza instead of towards Uyuni our time on the flats was all too short and unfulfilling. Looking at other peoples photos of the flats you see such a surreal landscape. While we did get brief glimpses of this we were not there long enough to be fully taken by the magesty of the place. After our hour or so on the salt flats it was time to head back towards Tupiza. This would require a long 8 hour drive through the harsh Bolivian terrain. This like most of the tour would not go according to plan.

So after heading off Tupiza we started to run into our first trouble. While I have stated earlier that our vehicle was a bit older and banged up than the others it turns our that the driver is what makes the real big difference. In the capable hands of Falcor we never really ran into any troubles at all. Well at least as far as the vehicle and driving were concerned. However while travelling in the convoy some of the other drivers were obviously not as capable. At around lunch we reach a small river we would have to cross. The usual chances of getting bogged and a bit stuck if you were not careful. It turns out that some of the other drivers must have never done this before in their life. The first driver through headed straight for the deepest and worst looking part. Not surprisingly he got himself bogged. So we all stopped had a bit of a laugh thinking that this would be a very routine event. Unfortuately not. After getting another vehicle over to help tow the bogged car out we would get to witness their excellent 4WD skills. This would involve the driver gunning it with no traction and just digging himself a further foot into the mud.

So we made the small crossing and waited. We stopped for lunch and waited for them to figure out how they were going to get the car out. There was no trees, no winch and at a guess no brains. Luckily we had a slightly irrate Clinton to try and translate directions at them that they seemingly didn't want to hear. Eventually they manage to get it out of the mud. So off we were again. Falcor never having put a foot wrong leading the convoy with us along for the ride. We sat back shut up and enjoyed the long ride home. We got into Tupiza late to had a quick chat to Freddy and organised some beds for the night. With little hope of heading north through Bolivia we made up our minds to go back to Argentina and then head north through Chile. Meaning we would miss some of the things we had come to do in South America.

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Photos

Contact
Forster making contact with the locals.

Ghost town.
Ghost town in the mountains.

The Rock Tree
Cool landscape.