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Having been dropped off at the desolate, windswept and frankly not very inviting Bolivian border post, we were glad to find the 4x4 and driver who was going to take us over the desert and across the Uyuni salt flats for the next three days. We were joined in our Jeep by a Canadian girl and three people from Santiago, two of whom were originally from Colombia and all three spoke excellent english, which helped no end with translating the information provided by our driver. The tour crossed over some spectacular, high altitude landscapes, the highlights of which were the immense Uyuni salt flats and an island totally covered in huge cacti. Traveling and spending two nights at such altitude (between four and five thousand metres) was a bit of a challenge and we both felt the effects, but it was well worth it and was a great way to enter into Bolivia from Chile.
The town of Uyuni which marked the end of our tour was not exactly what you would describe as an oasis in the desert, but it did have all we needed for the night, namely a reasonably warm room with a hot shower and a place to
get a bite to eat. Uyuni also has an eery collection of abandoned trains, slowly rusting away in the desert in a train cemetery which was worth a look.
The next day we hopped on what looked to be about the best of a bunch of busses heading about three hours away to the town of Potosi (Ross has decided that the best way to choose which bus to take is to check the tyres as an indication of general road worthiness, more than two totally bald tyres is taken as a bad sign). When we arrived at Potosi bus station, without a clue which direction the town centre might be, a little old lady out on the street showed us how the small local busses, known as micros, work in Bolivia by waving frantically at one and then practically shoving us on (armed with very firm instructions of what to tell the driver) as it slowed almost to a stop before zooming off again. Pretty impressive we thought, these little old Bolivian ladies are not to be messed with.
Potosi, founded in 1545, was once the largest and richest city in the Americas due to the huge amount
of silver found in Cerro Rico, the mountain which overlooks the town. After bankrolling the Spanish empire for many years, the silver pretty much ran out and the town went into decline. The impressive colonial architecture and churches still remain though and it was a really interesting town to visit. The mountain, although it must now be like a Swiss cheese is still mined by many locals, who scratch a meagre living in very poor conditions hunting for what little mineral deposits remain. Apparently the average life expectancy of the miners is only 45 years, due to the toxic gasses and substances in the mines. For this reason, plus the regular explosions in the mines (some for the benefit of the tourists), we decided against visiting the mines themselves.
We spent a few days in Potosi wandering slowly through the streets (slowly because it is still very high which is easy to forget until you walk a little too fast up a slope and suddenly feel as though you have just run a marathon) and visiting some of the old buildings, including the newly restored cathedral, where an incredibly eager guide tried his best to teach us heathens about the Catholic saints
depicted throughout the very ornate interior (we received a high five every time we answered one of his Catholic quiz questions correctly).
From Potosi we made our way a little further northeast to the small city of Sucre. Again we travelled over the mountain roads by bus and this time we had the exciting experience of fitting two buses (one a double decker), a car and a small herd of goats all side by side on a narrow bend during a spectacularly Bolivian overtaking manoeuvre. Fortunately, all involved (goats included) survived at least physically unscathed.
Sucre is considered the birth place of Bolivia as it was where the Bolivian declaration of independence was signed in 1825 and it is recognised in the constitution as the nation's capital, although La Paz is officially the seat of government these days (this is not an argument to get into with a local from Sucre as they strongly consider their city to be the capital). Sucre is without a doubt the prettiest city we have visited in South America so far, as it has a very historic centre with old white colonial style buildings and bright orange tiled roofs, it has a very laid back
feel and, situated at only 2500 metres above sea level, it has a very pleasant climate. Sucre is a very popular place for travelers to enrol on Spanish language courses as there are many good language schools and they are very good value. We also thought this would be a good idea, especially as Ross' progression from only being able to order two beers had been slow. We ended up doing two weeks of one to one Spanish lessons, after which time Ross thought his brain was just going to explode, but it has improved his Spanish a fair bit.
After all the brain strain we decided to head towards the lowlands a little further north. In particular we were keen to visit the small town of Samaipata. Our options for reaching this town from Sucre were either 15 hours on a beat up bus (apparently the road is so bad they only use the roughest buses. We couldn't quite imagine what they must be like if the ones we had already sampled were the better ones!) or a slightly more expensive, but very quick 45 minute flight to the city of Santa Cruz and then a short three hour bus
to Samaipata. No brainer really.
After spending so much time at the higher altitudes where vegetation is fairly sparse, it was a real treat to see the lush forest vegetation around Samaipata, which is a very pleasant little town. We visited some pre-Inca ruins near the town, which with only a little imagination were fairly impressive. We also decided to visit the nearby Amboro National Park for a day hike with a local guide. The park is famous for its cloud forest and giant ferns, as well as the possibility of spotting monkeys, spectacled bears and other wildlife. Sadly it appeared all the wildlife was having a bit of a day off, well apart from a few parrots, a hairy moth and some butterflies, which was our sum total wildlife for the day. However, we did get to walk among the giant ferns, which are the size of small trees and the forest views were amazing, so all in all it was a good day out.
We spent another day in Samaipata before embarking on a bit of a detour from our Bolivian adventure. On consulting our map, we noticed a huge chunk of mid western Brazil that appeared to be
fairly accessible from Bolivia by heading east from Santa Cruz. This area is the Pantanal region, a huge wetland covering an area half the size of France and supposedly one of the best places to spot wildlife in South America. So after a bus back to Santa Cruz, we jumped on Bolivia's infamous Red Oriental train (worryingly nicknamed the "Death Train" for unknown historical reasons) which arrived at the Bolivian border town of Quijarro the following morning. From here it was only a short taxi ride to the border with Brazil, a long wait on either side to pass through immigration (the Brazilian side opened an hour later than the Bolivian side) and then a quick local bus to the Brazilian border town of Corumba, where it was easy to organise a three day trip into the Pantanal. Having spent so long in Spanish speaking countries, the Brazilian Portuguese was a bit hard to fathom. But, having recently put so much effort into attempting to improve his Spanish, Ross just decided to throw his half baked Spanish at them anyway, which was surprisingly successful.
The trip to the Pantanal was fantastic, we stayed in a rustic jungle lodge right on
the banks of the Rio Paraguay and went out in small boats to see the wildlife in the wetlands. There were hundreds of Cayman to be seen, especially at night when their eyes shone in the torch light (fortunately they consider people too big to be pray but we kept our arms inside the boat just in case). We also finally saw howler monkeys, capybaras, armadillos and many other exotic birds and beasties. The only downside to the trip, if you had to find one would be the swarms of mosquitoes that descend upon you at dusk and dawn and well at pretty much every other time of the day. Fortunately, we were armed with a full range of powerful DEET repellents, which repelled all beings.
After a night back in Corumba for a welcome hot shower (which was particularly nesscessary as we'd waded through numerous murky swamps earlier in the day), it was back over the Bolivian border for the night train again, a one night stop over in Santa Cruz before yet again taking the wimps option of a very good value early morning flight to the sprawling city of La Paz. We really didn't fancy spending any longer
than necessary here, so by landing early we were able to get a taxi across town to a chaotic street where we found a bus heading directly to the small town of Copacabana, on the shore of Lake Titicaca.
We spent a couple of nights in Copacabana getting used to the altitude again and walking up the hills outside the town for good views of Lake Titicaca, which is massive, before taking a boat over to the very pretty and rustic island of Isla del Sol. We got dropped off on the north of the island, where we spent the day walking up to some Inca ruins and relaxing in the incredibly hot sun (the Incas didn't believe it was the birth place of the sun for nothing). The following day we walked from the north to the south of the island (there are no cars or roads on the island, just tracks and donkeys) enjoying the great views along the way. We found a nice little place to stay in the south of the island overlooking the lake, where we were able to watch some boats come in and unload all manner of goods for the islanders such
as sacks of dried food stuffs, crates of beer, construction materials, a bed and even two alpacas. The locals (mostly the women) then proceeded to load most of this stuff on to their backs and transport it like a line of ants up the very steep track and off to its final destination.
We spent another very pleasant morning on the island, again walking through the ancient, but still very well used Inca terraces to see some ruins before heading back on a boat to Copacabana, with the intention of saying goodbye to Bolivia and catching a bus over the border to Peru the next morning.
Things we have learnt whilst travelling through Bolivia:
- Beware of Bolivian over the counter cold remedies. They are a lot more powerful than Lemsip. The big blue night pill appears to give you very vivid dreams about jungle racoons breaking into your hostel room...
- The Bolivian people are on the whole a very friendly bunch, always happy to help with directions and advice. On local busses the older ladies always seemed to want to chat to Ross, which usually ended up with much good humoured leg pulling when
he used all the wrong Spanish words (Liz usually had to come to the rescue).
- We think Bolivian drivers don't have a driving licence as such, it is more like a certificate in the art of avoidance.
- Bolivia is such a diverse country with so much to see and a strong indigenous culture. We have really enjoyed it and could have spent much longer here.
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D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
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