The Altiplano to the Amazon

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On leaving Sucre and the Toledo family we cycled 5 days through the hilly central region of Bolivia to Cochabamba. At first the scenery was quite similar to that which we had cycled through from Potosi to Sucre that is to say, fairly dry valleys where locals scrape a living growing what they can in the not very fertile soil. It must be very hard work cultivating the land here especially as the land is rarely flat and almost everything is done by hand. We marvelled at the cultivated plots of land at impossible angles on the sides of the steep hillsides as we passed by. At the end of the first day cycling we slept in a small roadside restaurant in a very dusty depressing room on a couple of typical Bolivian bumpy straw mattresses hoping that it would not be like this every night. The second night however was better as we arrived in Alquile a thriving market town with a more comfortable hotel, very friendly locals and a busy market the following day. By Alquile the surrounding countryside had become a lot more greener with a lot more fruit and vegetables being grown in the area including the delicious fruit Chirimoya (custard apple) which we enjoyed straight from the trees. We stayed another day to make the most of this typical town and visit another small village in the area.

From Alquile we headed onward and upwards (one mega climb!) across the ridges of some high hills with fantastic panoramic views. This part of the ride was great and although it was fairly difficult our legs were on top form after the extended rest in Sucre. The only harder aspect was the road which was all cobblestones! Can you imagine, hundreds of kilometres of cobblestone road. It was quite original but very bumpy, fortunately we were usually able to cycle along the flatter part at the edge of the road! After a long day we arrived in Totora a very picturesque old colonial town with pretty stone bridges over a river that wound through the village and colourful buildings with arcades around the main square. It is an extremely photogenic village with beautiful scenes to be found around every corner. In fact when we arrived in Cochabamba we found a lot of paintings of the village in the local art galleries. However we didn't stay long because although picturesque, the village had an atmosphere of a ghost town that had known better days. There seemed to be no village life, no market, no one sitting in the main square and there was a real sense of over all depression and abandonment. W speculated that maybe a lot of people had left the town because of an earthquake of 6.7 on the Richter scale that hit in 1998 but we didn't know anything for sure, maybe we had just arrived the day after a huge fiesta when everyone was hidden away recovering!

Leaving Totora we rejoined the asphalt on one of the larger roads from Santa Cruz to Cochabamba. Here the landscape changed again to one of green fields and low hills in a wide heavily cultivated valley. The climate is more clement and the soil richer here so the locals are able to grow abundant crops of maize, wheat, citrus fruits and more that supplies a lot of Bolivia. After a day cycling through the valley and enjoying being back in a spring like environment we stopped for the night in a very busy small town called Punata 50km from Cochabamba. It was market day and when we arrived they were just about finishing but we could see that it had been a big one. The following day we stopped of in a few different small villages to have a look around and make the most of the slow pace of village life before arriving in the busy, bustling city of Cochabamba. As Cochabamba is a sprawling city, it took us quite a long time to get from the outskirts of the town to the centre. To make matters worse we arrived by the market and so there were buses, horses and carts, motorbikes, and people pushing mobile stands all over the place. It was very chaotic and I'm surprised we didn't pass out with all the bus fumes we breathed in trying to negotiate our path through the throngs of traffic.

We stayed a few days in Cochabamba which after the initial struggle at the entry proved to be quite an agreeable town. It's quite mixed with some posher parts of town with wide avenues and smart cafes close to other much more popular crowded areas with street stalls selling all sorts of bits and pieces. One of the most remarkable places in the city is the huge market. It's the largest in Bolivia and that is quite a claim. We ventured into one part of the main market to buy a few things, it was like a maze of stalls. In fact the market appears disorganised but in fact is very organised with each type of produce organised into different sections so you can more easily find what you need, from food stuffs to bike parts, to used clothes, musical instruments, witchcraft...everything. You just have to know your way around. I quite liked just getting lost and seeing what and who we came across. There were always interesting things to find or people in traditional dress to subtly watch or chat to.

One night in the city we went to the theatre to see a group of Bolivian musicians performing with Charangos (like ukulele), guitars, panpipes, flutes, violins and singers. It was pretty good and we especially enjoyed the audience participations everyone clapping along with the music and sometimes dancing in their seats.

To get out of the Cochabamba valley, direction north, we had a huge climb from 2500m altitude to 3700m in about 40km (mostly in the final 20km). It was hard work, climbing in the sun and with the altitude taking its toil. The encouragement from the passing lorry drivers gave us a boost though and with relief we finally reached the top and hurried to go a bit further on the other side to stop the our heads spinning. After a long lunch at a small village further down, we finally managed to get motivated to get back on the bikes for another shorter hill, before an easier stretch along the side of a large mountain lake, and then came our reward: a huge, spectacular downhill. In fact we were going to descend from the high plateau of Bolivia right down to almost sea level to a region called the Chapare As we descended on the twisting road we passed from the blue sky of Cochabamba and around into the clouds that had been blocked by the mountains. At some points we could only see a few metres in front of us. The vegetation became jungle like with birds singing and insects buzzing around. After freewheeling for about 30km we stopped for the night in a restaurant which had been recommended to us by a Cochababino we met on the road. The restaurant was a trout farm with an outdoor seating area where you could eat the trout fished in front of you. It was closing when we arrived but the people were really nice and let us camp in their garden after a tasty trout dinner.

The next morning we got up early to continue our descent into the steaming, tropical, Chapare. It really was a dramatically change in scenery from that which we'd seen in Bolivia up to this point and with the change in environment the people and way of life change drastically too. With tropical fruits on the trees, brilliant flowers and butterflies around, hammocks hung in all the huts and people dressed in shorts and T-shirts with dark, sun bronzed skin it was more like Brazil than what we usually think of Bolivia. We splashed out in Villa Tunari, the main small town in the Chapare and spent a couple of nights in a fantastic hotel. We had to cycle a few kilometres on a rough track into the jungle to get to the hotel which consisted of four or five small lodges each with four rooms with small verandas around a stunning tropical garden and a small pool. What made the hotel really special though were the short trails you could follow through the trees to get to a river with various swimming holes. As we were mid-week and the hotel is not in the centre of the town there were no other guests and we had the place to ourselves. It was so relaxing, cooling off in the river in the middle of the tropical jungle and lounging round in hammocks in the garden.

Mustering up all our will power we returned to the bikes after a couple of nights in the hotel and continued on the road west though the Chapare direction Buena Vista the entry point to National Park Amboro. The road was asphalted and more or less flat so we were able to whiz along doing more than 200km in two days with relative ease. Although the scenery was nice on the way because of the tropical vegetation, the towns we passed were not really very interesting, more buildings sprawled along the dusty roadside. However we were pleasantly surprised to find that Buena Vista was a really nice town with a central square to cool off under the trees, a couple of restaurants with tables outside to watch the world go by and nice accommodation. We paid a visit to the park office and got lots of information about options to visit the park from the Bolivian park wardens and especially a European volunteer who was helping to organise the administration in the park. Although we were speaking in Spanish the info from the European seemed so much clearer and helpful than any information we usually manage to prise out of the other tourist or park offices. Normally it's a battle to get any decent information here! I guess it's a cultural thing, maybe we are too demanding in Europe!

We decided not to take an organised tour but to cycle into the park to join a small local community called La Chonta who organise park visits for tourists. The cycle in was great, a few families live on the outskirts of the park and as we passed their thatched huts with children and animals running around and fields of fruit trees, birds singing and cows in the fields it seemed like an ideal place to live, although I'm sure it is actually really difficult. We had to cross a few rivers to get to La Chonta and sometimes the path was just the size of a walking trail but mostly flat and dry. It was a great place to cycle. On the way in we were met by our guide Eloe, a local in his 50's who took us to the small campsite where there was basic accommodation and a small kitchen to make food. We were the only visitors there. For the next couple of days we went on various walks through the jungle and along the river in the park while Eloe pointed out different birds, a few animals and lots of different jungle plants which have different dangers or medicinal uses. It was really interesting, but difficult to remember the different names of he plants and animals as Eloe only knew the local names. Our Spanish was tested to its limits! The first evening Eloe suggested going on a night walk around 9pm which we readily agreed to. However he didn't have enough batteries for his torch and by the time he got back from getting some it was 11pm and we were asleep. So we woke up and dozily set off in the pitch black, not on an established trail but following Eloe who was hacking his way through the vegetation with his machete. We crossed a couple of streams and after 20 minutes or so of stumbling around in the dark we finally stopped under a huge tree in the middle of the jungle where Eloe told us to turn out or lights. So there we were sat in the dark, in silence, in the middle of the night, lost in the Amazonian jungle, listening to the strange sounds around and wondering what Eloe was waiting for. Every now and then he flashed on his torch to check around the bottom of some trees but didn't find anything. After what seemed like about half an hour of waiting, Eduoard was getting very impatient and I was falling asleep. Finally Eloe gave up looking for whatever he was looking for and we set off back towards the camp. On the way back we seemed to get lost (although Eloe didn't admit we were lost). We turned around in circles for a few moments, listening to Eloe mumbling under his breath, contemplating how bad it would be to have to spend the rest of the night huddled under a tree. Fortunately Eloe seemed to find his bearings and we continued on our way fighting through the vegetation before arriving relieved back at the campsite. It was quite an adventure!

After two full days and four nights in the park we left the Chonta. The normal route to continue to Santa Cruz, our next destination, would be to return to Buena Vista and then continue on the asphalt 100km to the city. We had heard of another route to the city though via a dirt road that skirted the park, passing through little settlements on the way. We decided to go for the more interesting route and didn't regret it, as it was really beautiful. The villages on the way were just as picturesque as those near the Chonta and the vegetation and the birdlife was superb. It was really tough though as we had to cross several rivers and mainly because there were large stretches of sand. My legs were already tired from the walking in the park but Edouard was quite motivated to arrive in Santa Cruz at the end of the day so we pushed on. After 8 hours of cycling plus lots of pushing through the sand we made it to Santa Cruz just as it got dark. Fortunately Santa Cruz is the most modern town in Bolivia and we arrived by the posh district which was well lit to we were able to find our way to the town centre and a hotel quite easily. We were exhausted but the day definitely had been worth it as the route had been really memorable. After a shower and a good meal followed by huge portions of chocolate cake we slept very well!

I didn't really like Santa Cruz very much, it’s more modern than the other Bolivian cities and I didn't really find there was as much character. Admittedly we only stayed a few days and we were busy doing stuff for the bikes and the rest of the trip so we didn't really get to know the city ,but first impressions were that it was not particularly interesting and also it was considerable more expensive than the other places we'd been to. In consequence, we only stayed a few days before taking the train (for a change) direction East towards Brazil to the small town of San Jose de Chiquitos. The train reminded me of Indian trains with the corridors full of women selling all sorts of food stuff, drinks and other random items. However it wasn't anywhere near as comfy as the Indian trains and was very bumpy, putting a stop to any ideas of a snooze so we were quite relieved when we arrived at San Jose after 7 hours.

We had come to this part of Bolivia to visit the Jesuit missions and learn more about the history here. The Jesuits missionaries came to Bolivia around the beginning of the 18th century to convert the natives to Christianity. They were the only group of colonial-era settlers who tried to integrate their culture with the local culture rather than force the natives to accept their rules. In the East of Bolivia the Jesuits integrated with the native chiquitano people extremely successfully. The locals taught the Jesuits how to survive in the tropical environment and converted to Christianity and the Jesuits taught the natives agricultural techniques, handcrafting and music and protected them from slavery and abuse. Together the Jesuits and the locals built extraordinary missions centred around beautiful churches and at the height of the missions were performing concerts and dances that rivalled the best in Europe. Unfortunately the Jesuits' success was their downfall. In the mid 1700s, during a period of political problems between the church and the state in Europe, King Carlos III decided that the Jesuits had too much influence in Spanish South America and decided to evict them. After the Jesuits left the missions became abandoned leaving no more than small agricultural towns behind.

The missions in seven different small towns in this region are now national heritage sites and have been recently restored. We decided to visit the towns, on a circuit going anti-clockwise, the first of which being San Jose. San Jose is the only mission built in stone as there are not many trees in the area, the other missions were all built in wood, some with reed ceilings and most with spiral wood pillars in front of the church and inside. All the churches are beautifully decorated with paintings and intricate wood carvings and the five we've seen so far had large bell towers standing next to the church. The churches and the mission complexes where really interesting to visit, especially when you consider the events that occurred here. The Jesuits must have been tough people creating all that the created in this hostile, very hot environment.

Most of the small villages that house the missions are now we sleepy, dusty agricultural villages with some chiquitano traditional handicrafts and clothing still around. We found the people in this part of Bolivia to be exceptionally friendly and laid back, always ready for a chat and very interested in the bikes and our trip.

The cycling between the villages was not the most exciting as there was often not much more that large expanses of dry forest and the dirt roads were in very bad condition. Between San Jose and the next village San Raphael there was 130km to cover and nowhere obvious to camp. Fortunately when we stopped for a break at a small settlement on the road we met a Brazilian farmer who had an estancia in the area which he invited us to visit. As the estancia was only another 30km along the way we thought we'd reach their easily but the road was very bad and it was very hot so the 30km took us longer than expected. It was getting dark when we arrived around the kilometre mark where the estancia was meant to be. Bad luck, we took a wrong turning and set off on a side track that we found out later lead to another estancia 25km. We cycled for quite a while before realising we couldn’t be on the right track and turning back. By the time we got back to the main road it was dark and we were wondering where we could stay in the hostile dry forest when with relief we saw the lights from the Brazilian’s estancia only one kilometre further down the road. On arrival we were welcomed by all the family and were soon sat around the table with them for a Brazilian BBQ. Part of the family, a young couple with their 9 year old daughter were on holiday from where they live in Oxford in England.. The guy works in Asda and his wife in one of the oxford colleges but although they have been there for 3 years neither of them really spoke English. However 9 year old Mariana who is at school in Oxford spoke perfect English, without a trace of a foreign accent. Apparently they really like England which is nice to know! The rest of the family live between their estancias in Brazil and Bolivia were they have about around 5000 cows in each, a lot of work but they seemed happy and relatively well-off. That night we were expecting to sleep in the tent but were given a comfy bed with fresh milk and cheese from the farm in the morning. Typical Brazilian hospitality!

The following day was our anniversary of one year travelling and Edouard decided to mark the occasion by doing a massive downhill skid in the bumpy road after only 5 minutes of cycling. He managed to scrape the skin off his hand and a lot of his back and side, but was quite a man and refused to go back to the estancia preferring to continue another 50km to the next village!

A really interesting detour we made between the missions was to a Mennonite colony. It was one of the strangest things we've seen so far. The Mennonites are descendants from Germans, Canadians and maybe some other nationalities who came to South America decades ago to develop agricultural colonies. I'm not really sure about all the details of how and why although I'm curious to know more about them. We'd seen a few Mennonites before in Paraguay and in Santa Cruz in the city buying what they needed for the colony. As they are quite distinctive, you can't miss them. The majority have very blond hair and piercing blue eyes, are tall and thin and wear a distinct uniform of checked shirts with blue dungarees and black caps for the men and boys and old fashioned long unflattering flowery print dresses with straw hats for the women. They speak a strange language which seems to be a mix of German, English and other and in my experience they always have very serious looks and never seem to smile.

As we were cycling fairly close to a Mennonite colony we decided to go and have a nosy on the pretence of needing to buy some provisions from their store. Well, we certainly were surprised. First, when we arrived at the colony we noticed the immaculate brick houses with perfectly tended gardens and large trees which contrasted with the locals huts in the dry treeless area around. It was like a tidy oasis. Then we were passed by a few Mennonites in their horse and traps which is the way they travel. There were no vehicles in the colony. Apart from those passing by, the place seemed quite deserted but as we arrived in the heart of the colony we found everyone gathered together outside on a lawn in front of a building which we assumed was a sort of church. There were lots of horses and traps parked under the shade of the trees and all the men and women were sat at an extended wooden table chanting. There were at least fifty adults with a lot of children around, all dressed in the Mennonite uniform. They caught sight of us and stared but no one came over. The children approached a little but only to look at us suspiciously. They never smiled or responded to our Buenos Dias. We hurried on in search of the almacen (shop) which we found after asking a few times. Again there were a some horse and traps parked outside and a few Mennonites going in and out of the shop but no one said hello or smiled. Edouard ventured into the shop and I waited outside with the bikes near the door observed by a few young boys. At one point the shop door opened and a small girl stuck her head out and stared at me through small round German style glasses. I smiled and said hello but she only glared at me. Her older sister arrived and glared menacingly too. It was very strange to see children with such strict dress and such harsh stares. It didn't seem normal. I don't want to sound nasty but it felt like something from Doctor Who, I felt really uncomfortable in the colony and would have hated to stay long. In the shop Edouard reported that no one paid for anything, accounts were kept in books and most produce was hidden behind the counter. Fortunately he managed to get some cheese and bread which did for our lunch which we ate quickly before leaving the colony. All in all, it was a strange place, unfortunately we couldn't take photos because it would have been to rude and out of place. You'll have to imagine a cross between Little House on the Prairie and Doctor Who !

When we asked the locals about the Mennonites we found the locals wouldn't say a negative word against them. The Mennonites are respected for being very hard workers and their strange traditions are just put down to be being European traditions. The only vaguely negative point one expressed was that the Mennonites were not allowed to marry with the locals and could only marry other Mennonites, but otherwise the relationship between the different parties seemed to be very good. I expect the Mennonites are lovely people if you get to know them, they are probably just a little suspicious of foreigners or not openly friendly the first time you meet them. Maybe they have good reason to be like that.

Further along the missions circuit we realised that we were going to pass a track used mainly by logging trucks that led to National Park Noel Kempff. This park has the reputation of being one of the best in South America, home to a broad range of Amazonian flora and fauna, but is notoriously difficult and expensive to visit. However, with the bikes we realised that we had an opportunity to get to the park because we could cycle the roads that were cut off for normal transport. So we set off for a three day cycle to get to the gateway to the park, a small village called Florida. As we headed towards the park on the sandy four-wheel drive track the vegetation get more jungle like and we spotted some animals such as dear and coatis. At the end of the days cycling we arrived in a small village called San Martin where, on asking where we could sleep, we were directed to the hospital. We learned later that it was quite normal for people to sleep in the hospital as men who were logging further up the track often stop here for a break too. Fortunately when we were there, there were no patients in the hospital otherwise I don't think I could have stayed there. As it was, after dinner with the doctor in a small hut in the village, we spent the night on hospital beds in the men’s ward. The next morning the doctor informed us that some logging men had arrived in the night and could give us a lift another 80km up the track if we desired. As this allowed us to gain a day we accepted and after waiting around most of the morning and almost regretting our decision we joined them in the back of their truck for a very bumpy, painful 80km.

From the junction on the track where the logging men dropped us, it was another 55km to Florida and it was already 1.30pm. We didn't know if we had time to reach Florida in the afternoon on the bikes but we didn't want to sit around all afternoon after waiting most of the morning. We had some added pressure as the young man at the house at the junction explained if we left we would have to arrive in Florida before dark because it was too dangerous to camp with the Tigres (Jaguar) around. We decided to take our chances on the road as we found out there was a logging camp about 30km further down where we would be able to re-evaluate the situation. As it turned out the track, although narrower and more remote than the all others in recent days was in excellent condition for cycling so we reached the loggers camp in no time and after reassurance from the loggers about the rest of the track and a few more warnings about the Tigre we decided to continue. We arrived in Florida at 5.30pm half an hour before nightfall and found a really nice basic wooden hut hostel to stay in. We were lucky because the hostel had only been open for 2 months and otherwise there was nowhere to stay (although as usual we could have camped).

Florida is a small traditional village on the boundary of the park, practically cut off from all other villages during the wet season and difficult to get to the rest of the year. The 180 inhabitants live from fishing and hunting in a very traditional way. The short time we were there we had fish for dinner, fried platano for breakfast and saw the hunters returning in the evening with wild pig and even turtles fished in the river.

We expressed out interest in going in the park to the family who ran the accommodation and in the evening Manuel, a young man from the village came to introduce himself as our guide. There are two areas where you can stay in the park, Flor de Oro in the north which seems to be only accessible by plane or the river in the wet season and Los Fierros at 35km from Florida by a rough overgrown four-wheel drive track. Manuel borrowed a bike from his friend and the next morning after buying some provisions from one of the houses that had a very limited stock we prepared to cross the river separating Florida from the park and cycle to Los Fierros. However just as we were about to leave a four wheel drive arrived that was going to the camp to bring back some locals who had been at Los Fierros preparing food for an English bird watching couple who were on a very expensive package tour, flying in and out the park. He needed Manuel to go with him to help him use the floating platform to cross the river and to machete though the trees that had fallen on the track. So, as we couldn’t cycle in without a guide we got a lift in the four wheel drive. After only 5 minutes in the park a puma shot out onto the track in front of the jeep and proceeded to run 50 metres just in front of us before veering off into the bushes. We were very happy, we'd seen an ocelot in the Pantanal but this was our first big cat on our travels!

The following three days we walked and cycled around the park. The first day we crossed a termite savannah, home to wolves, tapirs, foxes, anteaters and more, cycled through the jungle, and walked up to a spectacular grassy plain on a high escarpment with an incredible view over the Amazon forest.

When the first researchers first explored this part of the park there were two cocaine factories hidden in the woods on this plain. Unfortunately the Bolivian biologist who the park is named after and two of his three companions were shot by drug lords as their plane landed near one of the factories on a research expedition. All involved managed to escape before the police arrived days later.

From the escarpment we returned to Los Fierros and the next day we crossed the termite savannah again but this time continuing in a different direction to a beautiful 150m waterfall called El Encanto where we camped the night. It was good having the bikes because we were able to do quite a lot cycling which enabled us to do a lot more in three days than we could have normally. Some parts were really difficult though, especially on the way and back to the waterfall where the path was a lot worse than it had been when Manual had last been there. Over one 10km stretch there were fallen trees every 50metres or so and thorny vegetation hanging over the path, sticking to our hair and ripping clothing. At least four times I got caught up in vines and thorns and fell off my bike. We were exhausted by the time we arrived at the spot where we camped near the waterfall. As Manuel pointed out in the evening at our campsite we were 70km from any other human as the English couple had left and so Los Fierros was now deserted. Fortunately nothing eventful happened in the night except for several insect bites waking us up every now and then.

As well as spectacular vegetation we saw a lot of animals in the park, three different types of monkeys leaping around in the trees, colourful red and yellow macaws, foxes, toucans, deer and others. We didn't see the Jaguar but just knowing we were in his territory was quite exciting. At one point on the way back from the waterfall the monkeys in the trees around started whooping and making loads of noise and Manual explained that could mean the jaguar was close by. He explained though that the warnings the others had given us about the Jaguars where exaggerated and there are no attacks that he knew off. I wasn’t surprised, I can't imagine an intelligent Jaguar bothering to attack three humans when there is an abundance of far easier prey all around.

After cycling back from the waterfall to Los Fierros we had a break and then continued back down the track to Florida. Even on this relatively easy track we kept getting attacked by thorny plants fairly often. I've never been in a park where the vegetation is so hostile. At one point when working I slipped and put my hand against a tree to support myself. Only problem was the bark of the tree was covered in huge thorns that covered my hands in little holes - Ouch!!

If the vegetation wasn’t enough we were also attacked by insects in the park, there were hundreds of bees at any campsite seeking salt from sweaty humans and worse there were loads of ticks. We had four or five tick incidents in Amboro park and we thought that was bad but in Noel Kempff we were tweezering 20 of the little monsters off our bodies every evening. It was quite unpleasant but after a while we got used to it as you do with almost anything!

Back in Florida we stayed another night in the peaceful village and in the morning went for a little canoe trip on the river with Manuel to see the giant otters and the birds. It was very relaxing for me in the middle enjoying the colours reflected on the water, less so for Edouard who had to row with a huge wooden oar that weighed a ton!

Later in the day we left Florida and cycled back to the main track where the logging truck had dropped us off. We were told that there would be a once a week bus that would pass that evening that could take us back to Conception a small town on the missions circuit and as we were pretty tired from the park and fancied a bit of comfort that the small town could offer rather than another night in the hospital we decided to wait for the bus. The comfort was not immediate though. At 9pm the bus arrived- full. The driver said he could take us but we’d have to sit in the aisle. As we really wanted to get to conception we agreed but the trip was hard. The aisle was tiny, We didn’t think Edouard would be able to sit down but he managed to wedge himself into the widest part and we spent the night mostly awake on a really bumpy road sat on the hard floor of the bus. It was a painful experience and we were more than happy to arrive in the morning.

So here we in Conception, enjoying a few days of doing little, sleeping lots and catching up with the blog. Tomorrow, we´ll continue with the bikes to the last town on the missions circuit but from here on the road is asphalted so it’ll be a lot easier than our recent crazy adventures!

I hope you are all well, I’ll try and write some individual mails soon but now at least you know we are alive and well!

Write soon with your news!

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