As soon as we crossed the border into Bolivia, it was immediately obvious that we had entered a different country. Gone are the European influences of Argentina; the roads are dustier, the people's faces are broader and darker, and everywhere there is evidence that things are much much poorer here. We got off our night bus in the freezing morning air in the border town of La Quaica, without much clue where to go from there. We ended up getting a taxi (just a few hundred metres) to Villazon on the Bolivian side of the border, walking through the immigration office, which was a little shed at the side of the road, then into another cab to the bus station, where we booked our transport to Tupiza, our actual destination. It was a bit like being
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