An unboliviable experience!

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I left Salta a bit despondant - the people there had made such a difference, I didnt really like leaving, but these things have to be done, and i got on the bus. Everyone else was noticeably more indigenous than i'd seen so far. The bus was shitty - no foot rest and narrow chairs - all signs pointed to a bad nights sleep. Turns out i didnt have any sleep at all - just as i was managing to nod off properly this woman came and sat next to me and talked to me for ages. She told me she hated Germans and would never speak to them because they had 'bad blood running in their veins' after the second world war. Like Martin, the Quilmes guide, she had heard of England but didnt know where it was and was surprised to hear it was an island. Its weird meeting people who honestly dont know where my country is! Plus i couldnt understand her Spanish...or other people in Bolivia for that matter. Only later did i realise they were probably slipping a few Quechua words in there.

We got to La Quiaca - it was absolutely freezing. I was the only gringo there, everyone else seemed to be in national dress, with the women in colourful skirts with aprons, multicoloured rugs around them, and funny bowler hats perched on the top of their heads. I asked the taxi driver if the border was closed (it being 5.30am) he assured me it wasnt, then dumped me at a deserted and distinctly closed border. The only other people there were some men in uniform in the Guardia office, who refused to let me in to warm up. I sat in an angry huff right outside their door for the next hour. Eventually i crossed the border into Bolivia, and after waiting another half hour for immigration to open, I finally made it to the terminal and caught a bus to Tupiza. If Argentina, despite its variety, is European, then Bolivia is definitely the real South America. The bus was crap, people crowded on with bags piled up in the gangway - even a dog got on at one point. The land was beautiful, though. Brown hills and mountains - very barren, with cacti everwhere, and tiny villages with small concrete and mud brick houses.

I got to Tupiza and only waited an hour for a bus on to Uyuni. Grabbed my first Bolivian empanada (fried, not baked) and sat in the sun - it was boiling hot now. My transport arrived - a jeep, not a bus. Question: is it really possible to fit 11 people into a 6 foot by 2 foot space? Answer: yes, but its HELL ON EARTH. I was so squashed and so hot and had a headache, they had shit Bolivian music on repeat, and im really sorry about this, but Bolivian people smell. Kind of musty. The driver was flying down this narrow dirt track, i avoided getting whiplash quite a few times. There were two Chezch travellers infront, with me and the Bolivians in the back. The woman opposite me kept on muttering 'gringos' and at one point licking her finger and wiping it on the rusty door, then repeating this process a few times. The old man next to me kept on smacking his gums. I wanted to die. I was almost on the point of throwing myself out of the back door when i thought, well you cant get more of a Bolivian experience than this. I tried to relax and enjoy the view - spectacular, like North West Argentina, beautiful arid landscapes, this time filled with llamas and Vicuñas not horses. As we got nearer Uyuni it seemed much more like a desert - lots of sand. We arrived and were hassled by the usual touts, but i shopped around (little good that did me, they all lie and the companies pool their customers). Went and got a hostel - private room, big bed, for just 20 bolivianos, about one pound 50. So so cheap here. Arranged a tour for the next day, arriving in Chile on Thursday. Couldnt resist getting myself one of the multicoloured rugs all the women use to carry things around in, plus a pair of alpaca gloves and a bag - its got a llama on it! Oh but i think that musty smell is the alpaca wool - everyone obviously wears it. Had an early night for the next day.

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