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Published: July 21st 2008
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If you've ever been on one of those machines at the gym that vibrate you violently while you do your crunches in order to give you extra muscle toning power, you'll have a good idea of what our bus journey from the Bolivian border was like. Neither road (when indeed there were roads) nor bus were in very good nick, and our skeletons got a good couple of hours of clanking. Unfortunately, however, we didn't arrive with those perfect six packs!
Our destination, Tupiza, is an old mining town and is apparently where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid met their makers, killed by the Bolivian army after a string of bank raids across South America. These days it is also home to such a high rate of Italian restaurants per head that I think they should definitely consider a rename to Tupizza.
'Badlands' is a word that is bandied about a lot to describe the surrounding countryside. The grey sand, red canyons and cacti and general lack of people around make you feel a bit like you're in a western. Kelly and Ali who we met in Mendoza had strongly recommended a two day horseriding tour of the
area to really get the cowboy feel, so we booked in with our hostel tour agency when we arrived and were off the next morning.
(Only we weren't, quite. First we had to buy our train tickets. This paragraph is totally un-useful to you unless you're planning on going to Uyuni on the train so feel free to skip to the next! The rules seem to be that they will not start selling tickets for a train until the previous one has left. We were getting the Saturday evening train, and tried to go buy tickets on Thursday evening. The man in the ticket office had literally nothing to do except stand around but refused to sell us a ticket as the thursday night train was on the platform. He told us to come back the next morning. The most useful tip is to see what time the ticket office opens and be waiting outside a few minutes early. We got there 15 minutes after opening and found ourselves in a queue of over 20 people that ended up taking an hour and half. We ended up leaving on the trip half an hour late so we could get
On horseback
Nat´s headscarf is in loco of a safety hat our tickets and some breakfast!)
After this little interlude we got back to our hostel in time to meet up with Clemente, our guide, and Mora and Potro the horses. We set off down the road out of town at a leisurely pace, until half an hour or so later when we turned off into the desert. At this point the horses decided it was time for a gallop. We didn't have a lot of control! We were also accompanied by our guide's dog, who ran round frantically, and barked at the occasional car we passed. We stopped a couple of times at particularly amazing rock formations for photos and use of the outdoor facilities. We barely saw another person for five hours. The landscape is sparse and incredible, and every time the horses dictated gallop time, clouds of dust blew up that meant we could barely see where we were going...slightly disconcerting but the horses seemed adept at not going over the drop offs at the edge of the road. Fortunately!
We arrived into Espicaya after four or five hours in the saddle to be greeted by local youngsters keen for a game of footy. Si obliged
but I mainly needed to spend a few minutes standing around wincing at the general leg and bum pain. After Si got beaten we got shown to our large dorm (which was pretty comfortable) and met some fellow turistas, two German girls, and a Belgian guy and his father who had never been on horses before and were suffering even worse than we were! We were thinking that the evening would turn out to be a quiet affair of scoffing our dinner down and then getting to bed at 8pm, but it turned out to be a blast. We got Bolivian dancing lessons from local girls, Si attempted to give photography lessons to the neighbours children, we downed large quantities of table wine, and even managed to get our guide a bit pissed...he spent a lot of the evening limbo dancing! Lots of fun. A particular highlight for Si was doing the Running Man to a Bolivian Folk song about the singer´s Lovely Horse.
The second day, all nine of us set off together in a cavalcade, which was wicked. Much racing of each other was done, and nine horses charging through the river crossings together was a noisy,
Mora and Potro
Our horsey type fellas. Mora is a lady, and Potro is her fella on the right. They didn´t seem too keen on each other on our trip, mind. fun and wet experience. The scenery was if anything even more beautiful. As we were riding through the river valley, there were reeds and some green agricultural land to contrast with the desert red. We also managed to avoid any severe saddle soreness till the last half hour or so! At this point the horses decided they´d had enough, and were going to race home regardless of how sore we were. The last 30 minutes was a non stop sprint down some train tracks (thank the lord Bolivian trains go but once a day!), complete with racing, the William Tell overture, and lots of girly whooping (and that was just from Si). South America may well be the best place in the world for a horse ride, we barely slowed down as we entered Tupiza town...
After saying farewell to Clemente and the tired nags, we had a blissful hot shower and pizza before jumping on the train to Uyuni. We had heard bad things about the bus journey, so i can confirm that the train is a Good Thing! Heated, reasonable films, and a smooth ride all the way. Definitely worth the queue!
Hope you are all
Rock formations
In our picnic spot. well anyway! We are back in just over two months now and are starting to formulate plans for some kind of home coming drinks, which we will let you know about soon. In the meantime, let us know what you've been up to.
Love Nat xxx
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