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Published: August 16th 2006
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O.K.
Yeah ok, it seemed like a good idea at the time yup this will be a breeze, it wont take any time at all and I wont have to worry bout a thing. Ya right! two weeks before we head back to shitty Ireland I make my fifth entry, I´m soo crap ya ya I know, I know. Right wotever. Here we go.
So when we finally go to Uyuni, which as an effort in itself I nearly collapsed at the prospect of having to stay there let alone travel across this country (Bolivia). Not that it was a bad place it was just a combination of being tired, sore, hungry and seeing a completely different aspect of South America staring us in the face. It was like entering the twilight zone and I mean that in the worse sense. Now hang on, dont get me wrong Bolivia was one of the (and still is) best places we visited, but there is a huge cultural and economic shift in crossing the border(l8r), which in itself is not the most endearing memory we have of our trip, but I digress!
Picture this if you
will: you arrive at bus station near the border (villazon) crossing at around 4:30/5 in the morning, it was about minus 3/4, with a really chilling breeze making it feel like -5/6. You wait in the station, amass with people and dogs who both have an equal level of, and repect for, personal hygiene, for what seems like a couple of hours for there to be the softest inkling of light, drifting in and out of semi-sleep, and to be confronted by what I like to call hand-crying. Hand crying is a very complicated skill which has been handed down from generation to generation, from mother to daughter and father to son. It has triumphed harsh winters and desert heat and despite its complicated roots, which are embeded in the deepest of cuechuan/spanish soil, remains as both prevalent and annoying today as it ever was.
Here is an introduction to hand crying:
Step 1: crouch down and extend one arm midway between your knee and your shoulder remembering to have its palm facing upward; remember it must be at a 90º angle to convey maximum suffering.
Step 2: clench face into a heartwrenchingly sore sequence of
wrinkles and begin to shake hand.
Step 3: make a noise which can only be achieved by firstly following steps 1 & 2 and cannot be repeated without doing so. Note, this ´winge´ can only be created by indigenous people who have endured years of mental and physical torment, torture and suffering, or alternatively by anyone who wants your money. Tomato, tomatoe.
Sooo, as you can imagine, this is not the first thing you would wish for at 5:30 in th a.m. After being confronted by this on a number of occasions in the bus station, on the way from the bus station, walking down the road (you get the drift) I was getting slightly aggitated and was hoping above hope that we would not encounter any problems in crossing from Argentina to Bolivia. WRONG! wrong, wrong, wrong!!!!!
We arive at the argentinian crossing, fine no problem, smiley people, with lighting and sanitation, only too happy to give you an exit stamp and a bon voyage thrown for free! Not even 30 metres away we encounter a cue outside the locked door of the immigration office, which is neither open nor will be open
inside the salt hotel
its as cold as it looks! for another hour and a half. JESUS give me strength!!!! I stand there in the freezing cold and experience an internal breakdown for the first time in my life (both physical and mental).
So directly after the signing of forms (which was like auction day at the playboy mansion) and the crossing of the infamous border, we decide to book some tickets to head to Uyuni and afterwards get some food. This, for edel, was a bit of a struggle. The food in villazon resembled something like a broth which contained a kind of meat type thingy of which I had never heard of let alone seen. I think for poor dellly belly it was like a mixture of everything she thought she didnt like but had yet to taste. I on the otherhand nearly eat the plate off the poor 15yr old serving us the food, no fork and knife for me luv, just throw it all in here!!
We leave, but first pay the girl the measley sum of 6 bolivianas for the three courses, which if you think about it is ridiculous. 1 euro works out to be about
8/9 bolivianos. Yeah, christ, its not even 70 cent for a three course meal!!!! Unbelievabubble! That on the otherhand was an amasing bonus for us in relation to buying things, good job! So we head to the train station again, board our train, which was possibly the slowest form of transport i´ve ever been on - I´ve seen faster wars.
Finally got to uyuni which is possibly the coldest place Ive ever been to, but also surrounded by some of the most breath-taking and astoundingly beautiful landscape and scenery I have ever had the pleasure to witness. Speaking of witness (yay electric picnic!!!). As I´m sure you´ll agree!!! I will let that 3day trip speak for itself, but not without thanking our guide and driver, and his wife, who were exceptional throughout, thank you Xavier and wifey!! The tour company was OASIS if anyone fancies it.
Ok guys and gals thats it for another while. Take care, love ye all in different ways, but I cant put that on the net, its illegal unless you have a secure site and a liscence. Ciao for now chicos. Kev and del
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