Monday, August 25, 2008

La Paz

The first couple of days in La Paz we just strolled about locally, as we both wanted quick easy toilet access, although we've both been grand really (and no dodgey drugs for me either (one of Sarah's antibiotics turned out, after I Googled it, to be quite dodgey in fact!)). Luckily this is the first time I've had any kind of illness since Kenya over a year ago, and even then both cases have been extremely mild and haven't hampered me at all, so fingers crossed it continues that way.

Anyway, we checked out most of the cool museums and quite a few of the cool restaurants and cafes (I've been really impressed with the number and quality). The best meal so far I think was on the 15th floor of the Presidente Hotel whose dining room has great views of all the lights of the city sprawled all over the surrounding mountainsides. I ordered huge prawns in Champagne sauce, Sarah had a huge slab of Argentinian steak (both of us together could only manage 3/4 of it), the price included a lovely big help-yourself salad bar, four beers between us, and the whole lot came to a whopping total of 20Euro!

A couple of days later we returned to the Presidente to take advantage of their pool, steam room and sauna (non-residents can use them when paying a fee). We spent the entire afternoon there just relaxing and alternating between the heated pool and the steam/sauna rooms and reading our books.

It's been a bit weird being back in La Paz, as I'd spent a few days here with Hanno on the last round-the-world trip 8 years ago. I checked out the hostel we stayed in then (it's a bit cleaner now, but basically the same), and also the main lookout point in the city, which made much of my previous time here come back to me. The city doesn't seem as physically spectacular a place as I remember it being though, even though the weather is better this time and we've had perfectly clear views of the beautiful triple-peaked, snow-capped Illimani mountain. It is, of course, still an amazing place, but the surrounding canyons and mountains just don't seem as shear or as high as I remember - all very strange really. There do seem to be a lot more women wearing the traditional dress and bowler hats though, which is all very cool, and the city does seem cleaner and more affluent (possibly due to bicentennial independence celebrations due for 2009), but then again I just think I didn't explore the city properly at all last time.

So of course we did the current 'must-do' La Paz activity of cycling the 'Death Road' (sigh!). This is a totally hyped up, pure tourist-trap thing that everyone goes on about here (but it is still worth doing of course!). Basically it involves riding down a mountain road that up until 2 years ago was regarded as the most dangerous road in the world. But 2 years ago they finished a new, safer road for all the traffic and now the only people using the original 'Death Road' are tourists on bicycles (there is an article here about the road that is typically paranoid (I'm referring to his attitude to paying more for 'safety'), but otherwise it's fair and accurate).

Anyway, being well used to over-hyped tourist activities, especially 'mad dangerous' ones, I took all the 'danger' references with quite a large pinch of salt, which was vindicated when we visited the biggest dedicated cycling operator (all the tour operators here offer the Death Road along with lots and lots of other trips, but this operator specialises in only cycling trips, and therefore charges more of course!). They explained that they offered bike trips ranging from Level 1 (Easy) to Level 5 (Extreme downhill with lots of climbing), and that the 'Death Road' was only Level 1! Hearing that I decided to book with the agent from our hostel, who had offered the cheapest price (we only checked a few places, all much the same), and to get a fairly basic bike (only front suspension not full, but with hydraulic bikes).

So we got up at 6:45 to meet for breakfast in our hostel at 7am, meeting the only 2 other tourists in our group, Adela and Nicoli from Switzerland (another advantage of avoiding the overpriced major operators is much smaller groups - meaning far less waiting around on the road for people to catch up - our guide even claimed he switched the operator he worked for because he was so fed up with large groups!). After getting all kitted up (helmets, gloves, raingear, etc.) we all got into the van and drove to the start point about 2 hours drive into the mountains. After a quick, but good, briefing from Victor our guide we set off in the freezing cold (luckily Nicoli had spare thermal gloves he lent me at our first stop, and they made the cold much more bearable for me).

Originally we rode in overcast skies, but very quickly we were actually in the clouds themselves (we started at 4750m, riding down to 1200m, over 3.5km vertical descent), and had to ride for a short time in light rain. The clouds continued for most of the ride, only getting the occasional clear views of the mountains all around us, which was a real shame. Anyway, we rode on asphalt for about 1 hour and on dirt track for about another hour with a few short stops along the way for photos, snacks and to warm up. Of course as we got lower the weather improved and it got quite warm, and towards the end Victor the guide really picked up the pace and myself and Nicoli got to have some great craic trying to keep up with him (the girls obviously being above our childishly boyish competitiveness).

So all in all it was a great day out, even if the clouds spoilt the views for much of it. It was a long day though, involving almost 6 hours driving in the van for only about 2 hours or so of cycling. As for all the hype, it really is quite annoying really, as the road is in great condition (for mountain biking), has very little or no traffic (we did pass two lads on huge BMW motorbikes who were obviously touring South America), and it's really wide - you'd have to be some kind of complete idiot to hurt yourself on it. Of course there will always be that complete idiot, some college kid with a hangover from the night before trying to out-impress his mates, but so long as that's not you you have nothing to worry about (although ironically enough, I reckon with the major overpriced 'we-are-the-safest' operators, you have a much higher chance of a collision with a nervous, inexperienced Epsilon when going with their large groups, but there you go!). But all the 'danger' hype just feeds the already overwhelming fear and paranoia that poor young kids have to cope with these days - all very sad I reckon (of course, all that paranoia also leads naive tourists to pay a lot more for very over-specified bikes and unnecessary extra equipment, like googles, knee-pads, full-face helmets, all of which I saw today - poor fools, you have to feel sorry for them really as most of them are on very tight budgets, and so shouldn't be throwing their money away so unnessecarily (I now reckon that our bikes didn't even need hydraulic brakes, so we could have gotten our trip even cheaper)!).

So after an early night and no fancy-dancy restaurant for dinner (unfortunately all these tour trips give you far too much food!), the next day we took local transport out to the Valley of the Moon. Since we had no idea where exactly to get out of the minivan, we actually ended up passing it completely. But luckily the guidebook had said that the same minivans also continue on to the zoo, and this was easy to spot as we approached it. So we strolled around the zoo for a few hours, the large number of jaguars being the highlight of course. The book said the zoo was a depressing place, in bad condition, but they've been renovating it recently and it's really nice now, clean and modern (although of course, it is still a zoo, with all the attendant moral issues that brings up).

So after a relaxed local lunch outside the zoo we caught a cheap taxi back to the Valley of the Moon, which was only a couple of kilometers back up the road. This is a series of natural rock formations that have eroded into towering columns and crevasses. It's nice for a stroll around for an hour or so. Then we caught another minivan back to the city and tried to book dinner in another of the city's fancy restaurants, Vienna, but they were closed Saturdays. So after checking out the nearby Museum of Contemporary Art (one of the best art museums I've been to on this trip so far), we had a great dinner in the restaurant of the 5-star Plaza Hotel (we just strolled in to check it out and it looked great). Again this was on the top floor, and this time offered great views down the main street (reminded me of the executive lounge in our hotel in Saigon years ago in fact).

The next day was Sunday, and we probably would have left La Paz but it was a religious holiday, and so transport might have been a problem (really I was probably just looking for an excuse to stay longer in La Paz, as I really like it). Anyway, it was nice to stroll down the main street and see all the various stalls and a few bands playing (including one interesting looking Heavy Mental band). We finally got to eat at the Vienna restaurant, and it had a lovely Sunday afternoon feel to it, being very popular with wealthy local familys. Later that evening we just went to the cinema, after getting well and truly stuffed at lunch, so we saw the latest Batman movie in a really impressive cinema.

So we finally leave La Paz later today. I´m just updating this blog while waiting for a local Indian restaurant to open for lunch, then after lunch we´ll try and get a bus to Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca (as usual we don´t have anything booked or organised, we´ll just make our way to the bus station and hop on the next one going our way, it´s that freedom that this trip is all about really).

Friday, August 22, 2008

Arriving in La Paz

Our 11 hour overnight bus journey from Uyuni to La Paz didn't depart until 8pm, so I spent that day lounging around the town, reading, using the Internet and watching passing brass bands (they were practising for a big religious festival the following week).

We'd waited a couple of days in Uyuni as Sarah was still feeling a bit sick, although the morning we left she had a bit of a panic attack about her stomach cramps and rushed herself to hospital in a taxi (which turned out to be just 300m metres down the road!). After a couple of jabs and a prescription for anti-cramp and antibiotics she calmed down completely and was fine for the rest of the day (all the pharmacies were closed for the whole afternoon, it being Sunday, so she didn't get the drugs until much later that evening).

So anyway the bus journey started out pretty well really with the bus being quite comfortable (we had seats right at the very front of the bus on the top level, but being overnight meant we only had a view in the early morning). The bus also left pretty much on time, but the road for the first few hours was in really bad condition, being basically just a very bumpy sand track.

Another few hours into the journey and I started feeling a bit dicky myself. Luckily the rest stop came up before I felt anywhere near needing an emergency toilet stop, but after we set off again I gradually felt worse (basically just a very mild case of the runs, which Sarah had had the previous few days). It turned out that there were no more rest stops for the remaining 5 hours of the journey, but I managed to get a few hours sleep and hold myself together, so to speak!
But the last 2 hours of the journey were quite a nightmare, as the high-altitude cold really kicked in. We'd been given heavy blankets, as the bus was completely unheated, but it was our feet that were really getting painfully cold by the time we arrived on the outskirts of La Paz. It was an amazing relief to arrive at the bus station at 7am, use the toilet and start walking towards the hostels to try and get some warmt into my feet.

After checking a couple of worryingly expensive hostels we came across La Solario (appropriately enough), which is a real treat of a place. It's very central, very cheap, very comfortable, very quiet and has free Internet. So we've been relaxing here for the past 5 days.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Cyclist guy's Bolivian blog

As a quick interlude, I found this blog by an American guy cycling around Bolivia:

http://nealinbolivia.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html

He has some great photos from many of the places myself and Sarah have just visited. He also put up a link to a famous movie I'd heard about back in Potosi about the working conditions in the mine there. Although I can't check the movie or trailer myself (this computer I'm using isn't good enough), I reckon it's well worth checking out when I get to a decent computer, so this is a note-to-self:

http://www.thedevilsminer.com/Trailer/Trailer.mov

Obviously I have huge respect for any cycle tourist, but especially so for one in Bolivia (we've seen quite a few now), so I'll definitely check out this guys blog properly when I get a chance.

The Bolivian Salt Flats

So we arrived at the La Torre tour agency right on time, but had to wait around for a good 40 minutes as a lot of groups were heading off that morning. The guys there had to sort people into various groups and assign us all to our jeeps, all of which were huge modern Land Cruisers. Each jeep can take up to 5 tourists (some companies cram in 6 people), but our group had only 4 of us (so with a driver and cook the car had 6 people).

Our rucksacks were loaded onto the roof, but when myself and Sarah clambered into the back of the jeep it became immediately clear that it was going to be incredibly cramped. There was no way I was going to spend 4 days stuck in this back seat, which had very little, and raised, leg room and also highly restricted views from the smaller windows. So after a quick discussion with the guy we'd booked with I arranged to move into the nice comfy seat beside the driver, thereby kicking out the cook, Esperanza! Esperanza was actually the drivers wife, but I couldn't see the logic of her taking the best passenger seat in the jeep when it was us tourists who had paid a lot of money specifically to ´see´ this part of Bolivia (it turned out over the 4 days that she mostly slept or knitted as we drove about anyway, so I reckon my thinking turned out to be well justified). So anyway, Esperanza moved back into the middle row of seats while Sarah remained on the back seat. I reckoned Esperanza should have sat in the very back from the start (as she was by far the shortest person, and had obviously seen all the scenery we passed many, many times before!), but Sarah was too embarrassed to say anything, so for two days Sarah took the cramped back seat. The other two tourists were both lads (Franz from Germany and Antoine from France), and also not in the least bit interested in taking the back seat, and rightly so in my opinion. Two days into the trip Esperanza did, without any word from any of us, take up the back seat though, so for our final two days we all had comfy seats in the jeep!

So for each day we alternated the front passenger seat, with me taking it the first day. That night the two other lads initially thought I was being cheeky kicking out the cook, but after I explained my logic they both actively agreed, and were both keen to take up their residence in the front seat when their turn came.

So over the three nights and four days of the trip we basically just drove to various landmarks and got out to take photos and the like before moving on. The accommodation on the first two nights was very basic, but the first night myself and Sarah were lucky to have our own room since the place we stopped at only had our jeep and one other.

The second night though had by far the worst accommodation, possibly of our entire trip so far. We had 8 people in a cramped dorm and the beds were in terrible condition. The whole place was pretty grim, although the dining area did have a small stove to offer some relief from the cold night temperatures. But at least nobody snored and I actually had a decent enough sleep.

The third night was in a fantastic new salt hotel right on the edge of the Salt Flats, and again myself and Sarah were very lucky to get our own room with great beds (I think we were the only people to get a room to ourselves, and it was just blind luck as we were just given it).

Over the four days Esperanza cooked us wholesome meals with plenty to go around (the last day we even had a fresh cake for breakfast!), although with the odd exception it was all pretty plain really (some people might say the conditions and isolation might be to blame, but I've had multi-day trips in far more isolated places where the food was much better).

So over the four days we saw lots of fantastic landscapes with lots of lovely ravines, lagoons, volcanoes and one very cool, mad-looking rock apparently sculpted by wind-blown sand over hundreds of years. A few of the lagoons had flocks of flamingoes, and on one of the lagoons many of the flamingos weren't nervous of humans like in Africa, so it was easy to get really close.

But the Salt Flats themselves are always said to be the highlight of the trip, and for us coming from Tupiza instead of the usual Uyuni, we arrived on the edge of the Flats on our third evening. The salt hotel we stayed at (made completely from salt blocks) was perched up a hillside, and so we got a quick overview of the Flats before we settled down for a quick shower (that didn't work properly!) and then dinner.

Early the next morning we got up and headed straight onto the Flats before breakfast to try and catch the sunrise on the plains themselves. Everyone seems to find these Salt Flats awe-inspiring for some reason, but I couldn't see it really. It is an impressive landscape for sure, but not, in my opinion, in any awe-inspiring sense. So after sunrise (again no big deal for me I'm afraid), we drove on to the Isla Incahausi for breakfast.

This is a cool mountain thing in the middle of the completely flat plains, and gave impressive views over the plains themselves. It's covered in mad huge cacti and has a trail leading to great views and some mad coral rock formations. I reckon this was the most impressive part of the Flats for me, as it gave you some appreciation for the shear scale of the place (it's the largest and highest Salt Flats in the world), but even this was severely mared for me by the multitude of tyre tracks all over the place from the thousands of jeep tours. Unfortunately there is no control of the tour groups who drive across the Flats, and so they just drive willy-nilly all over the place. I don't see how the salt can ever regenerate over these dirty tracks, so it seems the aesthetic damage will be permanent, which is a real shame as it prevents the view from the top of the mountain being a completely uninterrupted sweeping panaroma of human-unaffected salt that it should be.

Many, many tour jeeps had congregated at the base of the Isla, but there were also two pairs of cyclists that where obviously riding right across the plains. Now that is the real way to experience this landscape I reckon, maybe if I'd ridden across the plains I'd have been more inspired by them. Anyway, after breakfast we continued driving across the desolate plains, stopping at one isolated spot to take the obligatory 'perspective' photos (i.e. where it can look like I have a tiny Sarah standing on the palm of my hand), and then again at a much older (and apparently illegal) hotel made completely from salt. Then we drove on to the town of Uyuni where our tour finished.

We should have driven to the local train cemetery where there are a multitude of rusting train engines and carriages, but our jeep's brakes had apparently failed. Over the four days we'd had exhaust pipe problems which a mechanic in a tiny village welded for $3, a flat tyre that was replaced while we checked out a lagoon, some electrical ignition problems and then the brake problems - initially I had thought the jeep looked in great shape, and it was very comfortable, but I guess the Bolivian terrain really does take it's toll.

The last couple of days poor Sarah had a dicky tummy. Nothing serious, but she couldn't really eat much. When we got to Uyuni yesterday we decided to book bus tickets to La Paz for today, giving us a chance to rest for a full day first. While Sarah rested in the lovely Hostel Salvador beside the bus terminal, myself, Franz and Antoine strolled the 3km to the train cemetery.

It was quite impressive I have to say, as most of the train engines are still in pretty good condition, and so us kids (the lads are 20 and 21), could clamber all over them. After the stroll back to the town along the train tracks (and through a very stinky rubbish dump), I picked up Sarah who was feeling much better and we all headed out to dinner in the cool Minuteman Pizza restaurant.

But the next morning Sarah was feeling pretty bad again. After lying in bed for a few hours she didn't really improve much, so we went across the road to move our bus booking forward a day and we both went back to bed. So later in the day I strolled about, but the local museum was closed for some reason, so I just came to an Internet place for a few hours. Hopefully tomorrow Sarah will be fit and well and we'll be able to get the overnight bus to La Paz, the Bolivian capital.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Tupiza

So after a nice dinner in a lovely restaurant (La Casona) with a very impressive local reggae/jazz/rock band, we got the 8am bus from Potosi to the Southern town of Tupiza. Due to the continuing political problems around Bolivia I decided to walk the 20 minutes or so to the bus station rather than risk a bus or taxi getting stuck in a blockade, even though it was snowing quite heavily. Due to the altitude of 4020 metres, it gets very cool at night, and so even though the days are generally gorgeously sunny and hot, snow is not uncommon during winter nights and mornings. It was pretty weird all the same though, as the weather had been all clear-blue skies for ages.

So again the bus was nice and comfy, the scenery all very nice and we even left pretty much on time and arrived earlier than we expected (only 7 hours instead of 8). So we got ourselves a nice hostel in Tupiza and strolled about checking out local tour options.

Coming to Tupiza had been recommended by a Dutch couple who ran a bar and tour agency in Samaipata, as they reckoned it was the better place to book tours of the famous Bolivian Salt Flats, as you get to spend an extra day touring around and so see much more. But Tupiza is also famous for having amazing local scenery of it's own and so we booked a one-day tour with the La Torres agency (the cheapest place and nice friendly staff).

So the next morning we set off at 10am, just me and Sarah (groups can be up to 5 people). The tour was a kind of 'triathalon' thing that all the agencies offer here where you drive, bike and horse ride throughout the day. Our company didn't have the bike option though, so instead we just did a small hike instead.

It was a great day out I have to say. The jeep was very new and so really comfy, and the day was pure blue skies (a nice change from the snow the day before in Potosi). We drove to a couple of impressive rock formations and through a man-made tunnel, and after our short hike to more towering rock formations we drove to a small river to have lunch. Here too there were mad cathedral-looking rock formations. After lunch we picked up our horses for two hours or so of horse riding through the wild landscapes.

I had a great big lovely looking horse and although I've very little horse riding experience I managed to just about hold on when we went cantering and then galloping. My boots were too wide for the stirrups, so I was always on my tippy-toes, but I think my horse was just really smooth and gentle, and so I was OK. Our guide informed us that my horse was also the local champion racehorse for the past 3 years, and from the look of him I'd believe it. But it was the landscapes we rode through that were certainly the highlight of the whole day.

We rode into quite amazing 'Wild West of America' panoramic landscapes with forests of huge cacti all around us, and rode into the very impressive Canyon of the Incas. The guidebook claims this whole area to be like the American wild west, only far more spectacular - although I've only seen the American wild west in movies, I'd still have to agree.

So after the long day and a well deserved shower I strolled back up the nearby hill that offers great views of the town and the surrounding red mountains to watch the sunset. Then dinner in a local roast chicken restaurant with the Dutch guy we'd met back in the Pantanal in Brazil, and then a bit of internet (my apartment management company back home continues to mess me about. Incredibly after nearly 15 months travelling in places like Africa and South America by far the most frustrating thing I've had to put up with is my management company back home in Dublin - they're completely useless!).

Anyway, today there is a national referendum here in Bolivia (which all seems to be a bit of a mess), so everything pretty much closes down, and road travel is prohibited for some reason. So we have to wait until tomorrow morning to start our 4-day tour of the Salt Flats, after deciding to go with the same tour agency again (they gave us a big discount and threw in sleeping bag rental, which is essential at this time of year as nighttime temperatures can drop to -20C). So today we're just chilling out in the small nice town - Sarah has just gone for an ice cream.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Potosi and it's mine

So we got the bus to Potosi with no problems at all, it left on time and even arrived pretty much on time too, and was a very comfortable journey (so much for all the mad stories of atrocious bus journeys in Bolivia, so far we've had no problems at all, but it's still early days I suppose). We then started walking to what we thought was the centre of the town, but it turned out we'd both misread the guidebook and were walking in completely the wrong direction (down the hill instead of up the hill). Anyway, a quick taxi ride and after the usual checking of a couple of places we got settled in the nice Residencia Fercal near enough to the main plaza.

We only stayed in Potosi for two nights, but it turned out to have one of the best museums of the trip so far and also one of the most amazing experiences of my entire life. Both are directly related to the discovery of huge amounts of silver, basically a whole mountain of the stuff, by the indigenous people many hundreds of years ago - the museum was the Spanish colonial mint used to generate silver coins when they exploited the silver reserves, and the experience was a tour of the mine itself.

The original indigenous people discovered the silver, but of course it took the Spanish colonialists to fully exploit it. Apparently the resulting silver funded much of the Spanish colonial expansion and resulted in Potosi becoming the most important city in the world at the time (having a much larger population than Paris or London). Anyway, the tour of the mint was rather rushed unfortunately as you have to follow a guide and he was fairly bootin' it about (although his English and his explanations were great, he had a very strong accent and so you really had to concentrate to follow him).

But by far the most impressive feature (apart from the huge building itself) was the 17th century machines used to roll the silver ingots into .5mm sheets of silver. The machines, three of them, are huge and were each driven by four mules. Basically they are huge but intricate rolling machines used to progressively squish the ingots down into sheets, but they are fanastically preserved and each machine extends over two floors of the building. It was an incredible demonstration of the technical capabilities of the time, and brilliant that they are so well perserved.

But the highlight of Potosi, and certainly one of the highlights of the whole trip for me, was a tour of the mine itself that morning. The mine, which is basically a mountain, is right on the outskirts of the town, as the town was built around the mountain in the first place. So it was a quick drive to get geared up (miners helmets with lamps, overalls and wellies), and another quick stop at a small miners market to buy bits and pieces as gifts for the working miners (such as lots of fizzy drinks, gloves, dynamite (which anyone can purchase whenever they like (a small stick costs about 1 euro)), coca leaves, cigarettes (ironically enough, obviously respiratory problems kill just about all the miners at a very young age), etc).

The mine is no longer being mined by big corporations or anything, as I suppose all the richest veins are long gone (as it's been mined for hundreds of years now), and so it's actually a cooperative of individual miners basically working for themselves. I think it's only in recent years, with mineral resources becoming very valuable again, that the small amounts of silver, tin or lead these individual miners can get out have become economically viable. Anyway, whatever ore these miners can get they sell directly to 26 private corporations based around the town.

So we arrive at the base of the mountain and there are about 10 lads quitely working away at various piles of rock, rubble and ore. It all looks quite innocuous really, and not at all what I imagined a working mine to look like (but again I suppose that's because it's not really a big commerical operation). So then we stroll over to a very small entrance, basically just a doorway into the mountain with narrow rail tracks leading into the darkness. We all switch on the lamps on our helmets and start walking into the small tunnel.

As we walk along we hear an approaching trolley car being pushed by two miners that's full of rubble and ore. We all stop walking, stand up against the side of the tunnel and let the miners push their trolley past us. This happens quite a few times during our tour and we get quite used to it very quickly - it's the only means used to get the ore out of the mine.

At the start of our walk the air is quite fresh and the tunnel big enough to walk along comfortably enough. But as we get deeper and deeper into the system of tunnels it gets hotter, a lot dustier and a lot more cramped.

Eventually we meet a gang of miners preparing a section of tunnel for blasting. Basically they use water and compressed-air drilling equipment to make small deep holes in the bare rock, then place sticks of dynamite in each hole and twice a day (at 12pm and 5pm) they blast out sections of rock. They then load the rubble into the trolley cars and push the trolleys out the mountain.

Only the mountain has just the one entrance, but many, many levels. So a huge series of shafts have been created to link the different levels, and ore is shoveled down these shafts to trolley cars on the main level and then pushed out the entrance. So after leaving the blasting lads we head up a couple of these levels and meet a couple of lads that are in the process of drilling those dynamite holes. When I say we went up a level I mean we literally had to clamber up rickety wooden ladders, cross gaping holes along planks, pull ourselves up hanging ropes and crawl through very tight spaces. After all that we put pieces of toilet paper in our ears then approach right up to the working miners.

I literally couldn't believe I was standing only three feet behind a miner with a huge drill making an incredible din, forcing dust and dirt everywhere around me, but actually working a seam of ore. There must to be very few places on earth where you can have such accessibility to working miners, and I guess it's only allowed here because no corporation owns the mine.

So after we all managed to get up close and personal to the working miners we backtracked and clambered down more mad rickety ladders for a few levels (each level has about 20 metres vertical separation and the shafts are just very deep human-width holes). Here we come across another pair of miners drilling dynamite holes, although this time without the aid of water (water access being too difficult for this section of mine). The difference here was the shear density of dust being generated by the drilling, as usually the water keeps that down. So again after we all get up close to see the action (or what little you could see through the dust), we backtrack and start to head out of the mine.

On our way out we have to take a bit of a detour as we hear a bit of a rock fall up ahead, which was a tad worrisome being at this stage deep inside the mine. But our guide, who used to work in the mine himself for many years and so knew many of the miners well, seemed quite relaxed about it all, so I was quite relaxed about it too really (a bit like hitting heavy turbulence in a plane, but when the air crew are all relaxed about it you know it's nothing to worry about).

Near the exit we stop again at a ritual altar set into a tunnel where the miners gather for certain occasions. The altar is actually dedicated to the devil as the miners think they'll get better protection from him than anyone else, and the guide tells us a few miner stories (about 10-14 die each year apparently, but mostly through accidents caused by being drunk!).

So all in all we must have spent over two hours in the mine itself, and it was certainly one of the most eye opening experiences of my life. The conditions were incredible, and mostly unchanged for centuries, and so these poor young lads working there today are in much the same position as guys working there hundreds of years ago.

But it was great to see how smiley and friendly all the miners were. It was genuinely touching to see the obvious affection our guide had for the young guys as he handed out bottles of lemonade or whatever as they passed pushing their trolleys, or left bags of coca leaves for drilling miners as we moved through - and every time the miner would beam a big smile and a 'Gracias!' at us tourists, since we'd paid for their small treats.

So once out in the open air again we had a quick blasting demonstration from our guide (Eddie, or as he said himself 'Eddie Silver, no Eddie Mercury!'). He unrolled a stick of dynamite packed in paper, which he passed around to each of us (it just feels like plasticine), fed the fuse into the detonator, the detonator into the dynamite, then squished the dynamite into an old coke bottle, half filled the bottle with ammonia (which gives a more powerful blast), and then topped it up with sand and pebbles. He then lit the 4-minute fuse, and then a few of the tour group got to pose for photos holding the lit bomb, Sarah included! He then ran up the mountain a wee bit and threw the 'bomb' behind a small rise. A minute later it goes off with a loud booming blast and a cloud of smoke - demonstration over.

So quite a tour I have to say, and something I won't soon forget. There were 12 people on our tour, including a Belgian family with two kids (major kudos to those parents!), one aged 12 and the other maybe 14, and I couldn't help but think what an amazing experience it must have been for those kids. Just imagine those two young lads going back to school in Europe and trying to explain to their friends the experience of being 3 feet from a working miner deep inside an ancient silver mine in Bolivia - somehow I think their friends just won't 'get it' (nor for that matter will anybody reading this blog I suppose - if ever there is an experience that really HAS to be experienced first hand then that mine tour really does have to be a contender! If anyone ever asks me why I travel, or what I get out of it, maybe I'll just point them to this blog entry...).

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Sucre

So arriving in the small airport at Sucre we met up with a French traveller and caught a local bus into the centre. After checking a couple of places we stayed at the central Potosi Hostel and strolled about that night checking out the lovely main plaza (so far in Bolivia everywhere has had really clean, beautifully well kept plazas).

That night I had a bit of a late one in the very popular gringo hang out of the Joy Ride Cafe, although Sarah headed home early with a dicky tummy, I stayed out with the French guy and the Dutch guy we'd met in Samaipata who had just finished guiding a tour.

Next day we did the short tour of the worlds longest dinosaur footprints. They were found recently enough in a limestone quarry, and the quarry owners have now built a tourist centre to explain how the footprints formed and what dinosaur species are present. The footprints themselves are pretty impressive actually, as are the life-size models of various dinosaurs. Our guide was very good too, although he had a very strange American accent.

Heading back to the town we popped into the museum for indigenous textile workers, which was very impressive too (displays of ritual dried llama foetuses aside I suppose), and then headed towards home for another early night. Along the way we noticed a lot of people hanging around the main plaza and then saw a few brass bands playing in different parts of the city. When we got back to the hostel one of the bands actually marched down the street right outside our window - turns out tomorrow is National Independence Day, and so they have a few days with lots of marching bands and the like.

So today we got up early and hiked up one of the city hills to a lookout point over the city, and a relaxing drink at the Le Mirador cafe after a short tour of the neighbouring convent (with a mad looking ancient 1400 year-old cedar tree and a very impressive carved choir area).

And so now, for the very first time in over 14 months, this blog is actually up-to-date! Tomorrow the plan is to get a local bus for the 3 hour journey to Potasi, where we'll probably spend a couple of days on our way down to the worlds largest salt flats.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Samaipata and getting to Sucre

So the supposedly short and easy shared taxi trip from Santa Cruz to Samaipata turned out to be quite an adventure in it's own right. We arrived at the very nondescript taxi place and didn't have to wait long to get going as an English guy, Nick, was there already waiting. The driver leaves when four people arrive, but the three of us decided to share the cost and pay the little extra to get going immediately.

After driving about 10 minutes we are forced to take a detour off the main road as there was a demonstration or something up ahead (very common in Bolivia apparently). The driver knew the area well though, so he heads off along dirt back roads and it doesn't seem to be any problem. But then we come across a very sandy section of track, and the driver looks a bit dubious (a truck just down a bit from us was currently getting towed out of mud by a local tractor). The car in front of us managed to get through though, so our guy gives it a go and promptly gets the car well and truly buried in the sand. So after about 20 minutes of digging with a borrowed shovel and using a couple of planks and a good push we manage to get through.

But then about an hour later I have the very first proper car crash of my entire life! The driver was driving too fast, and a jeep was slowing down in front of us. I think our guy thought he'd just overtake the slowing jeep, but then a huge truck was approaching from the opposite direction. He then had no choice but to go into the back of the jeep. None of us were wearing seatbelts (the back seats didn't even have seatbelts), but none of us was in the least bit hurt or injured. The jeep only had superficial bumper damage, but our guy's car had pretty extensive damage (he couldn't open the bonnet, or the passenger door).

So we had to wait around for our driver to persuade a local guy to drive us the rest of the way, as he reckoned his car wouldn't make it to Samaipata. So eventually we arrived a couple of hours late, but none the worse for wear.

Again Samaipata is a lovely little town, this time very little indeed, and we got a lovely place right on the very pleasant main plaza, Paolas. The town is most famous for a nearby archeological site called 'El Fuerte', but also acts as a gateway to the famous Amboro National Park. So after a nice dinner in the town that night with Nick, followed by a few late drinks in one of the local bars (run by a nice Dutch couple with a young Irish lad working there). The next day we organised a full day tour of a section of the national park for the following day. All the operators were much the same, and we only choose the one we did because they already had two people booked (a French couple), and this resulted in a large price discount. Once that was organised we then strolled around the town.

First stop was a local animal refuge about 2km along a lovely country road. It had quite a lot of animals, mostly moneys and parrots, but also a couple of toucans (more toucans!). Some of their moneys were like pets too, and one of the howler monkeys just walked up to me and climbed up my legs, then arms and wrapped himself around my shoulders. Naturally I loved this place, although I was a bit dubious about all the animals being rescued, as there did seem to be quite a lot of them. Anyway, after a drink and a snack we headed back to the town.

So the next morning we were picked up for our tour a little late and then informed that our tour couldn't take place due to rains the previous night (the road had suffered a major landslide a fews days before in which two Argentinians had died, and repairs were ongoing). Instead we were offered a tour of another section of the park, and so we went there instead. It was a lovely all-day hike through ferns forests (apparently the largest fern trees in the world), but apart from one toucan (the smaller, more colourful variety, not the usual 'Guinness Poster' ones) we didn't see much wildlife.

The next day we attempted our original tour again with the same French couple, and this time we got all the way to the start of the hike to be informed by a local hotel manager that the trail was now closed to tourists as it was now private land. After a bit of haggling, and a bribe offer by our guide, we still couldn't continue, so after just a quick photo of a nice lagoon we had to head back down the mountain we'd driven up and find a phone booth to call the tour agency manager. After much discussion it was decided we could do another alternative, and so we set off again.

This tour was very improvised, but turned out to be another great day out. First stop was an amazing viewpoint, looking down on an incredibly positioned lodge (Refugio Volcanes), then a quick stop at a hippie organic farm place (Gingers Place, that turned out to be deserted), before heading to a local waterfall, Cuevas. Here we strolled about the waterfall area and waded in the river before heading off on a long hike through the mountains. It was a great hike, along narrow ridges offering great views, before meeting up again with our car and heading back to Samaipata.

That night we met up for dinner with Orion, the Israeli guide on both our trips. He's a really cool guy, and we had a great chat over dinner about all sorts of things - including the loss of childish innocense, spirituality and the like, and also a lot about life in Israel and living in a kibbutz.

The next day we planned on getting the bus down to our next destination of Sucre, but the buses leave around 8pm. So that gave us all day to check out the famous El Fuerte site (and the small local museum in the town). We got a cheap taxi up to the site (after a wee bit of haggling), spent a good couple of hours strolling around the impressive structures (the main site is craved out of a single huge long bubble of red sandstone), having the place also completely to ourselves before hiking for about 2.5 hours all the way back to the town (via a quick rest stop in a nice German-run restaurant called Baden).

That afternoon Sarah chilled out in the hostel while I did another hike up a nearby hill that was recommended by Orion. Then back to the hostel, picking up our bags and heading out to the main road to try and flag down a passing bus to Sucre.

Earlier that the morning we had tried to book seats on the relatively comfy, expensive bus with two different agencies, but one agency said none of their buses were going to Sucre at all due to a political blockade of the city, while the other agency said one of their buses, the really cheap crappy bus, was leaving that night. I decided that there was no point in paying extra to the agency for a cheap bus, as our landlady had told us that loads of buses would be passing by that night, and so it would be much cheaper to just flag one down.

But as it turned out we ended up waiting almost 4 hours in total, in which time only two buses for Sucre came along, both of which had no seats! So very dispirited we strolled back to our hostel and got a room for another night.

The next morning we went back to the two bus booking agencies again, and this time even the cheap bus was full. So deciding that getting a bus to Sucre would be a nightmare, we instead got a shared taxi back to Santa Cruz, and rushed straight to the AeroSur office, arriving just before they were due to close, but they wouldn't let us in (it was 5 minutes to closing time). Then I wasted 20 minutes on the internet trying to phone the airlines reservations (no answer), before a really nice friendly 'auld lad from the AeroSur office next door told us there was a flight to Sucre but it was leaving in about an hour. He flagged down a taxi for us though and so we hopped in and rushed to the airport.

The taxi driver asked us to confirm which airport we wanted to go to (the town has two), and when we arrive at the airport that I thought the 'auld lad had mentioned I pay the driver and get the bags sorted as Sarah rushes into the very small airport to try and get flight tickets. As the taxi driver pulls away Sarah rushes back telling me we are at the wrong airport! The driver had completely ripped us off by charging us the price for the other, far more distant airport (I really hate taxi drivers, they're the same the world over!). Anyway, now that we were at an airport, and had almost certainly missed the soon-to-leave plane anyway, I decided to check out if we could buy plane tickets from any other airline. It turned out that another airline, TAM, had a flight the next day and they were cheaper than AeroSur (I had of course tried to check all this out on the internet, but the Bolivian airlines have useless or non-existant websites). Anyway, I was delighted, as I really like the town of Santa Cruz so I didn't mind staying another day there.

So we buy the flight tickets, and as we leave we ask the girl how much a taxi back to the centre should be. Sarah thought the girl said 18 Bolivianos (while the first taxi guy had charged us 50, which is still only 5 Euro, but being ripped off is still always so annoying), so we get a taxi outside the airport and he offered to take us for 20, so we took it. It turned out the girl had actually said between 8 and 10 Bolivianos (which was what I had originally thought the girl was saying, but Sarah's Spanish expertise overruled me!), so we actually managed to get ripped off by two taxi drivers in the space of an hour. Still, if your going to get ripped off, the best place in the world must be Bolivia, as everything here is so cheap!

So back in Santa Cruz we have a nice dinner that night in Casona, and then an early night. Next morning I get a big breakfast before using the internet for a few hours to catch up on this blog, and then off to the airport.

Our flight left right on time, but it turned out that the plane first flew to a town 1.5 hours South before taking off again after 25 minutes and then flying back North for an hour. A direct flight would have only taken 30 minutes, but after 3 hours we arrive in Sucre. It was a lot more confortable than the 17 hours the bus could have taken though (and we've since heard horror stories of people having to walk for hours because of the continuing political blockades).

Arriving in Bolivia and Santa Cruz

We arrived in Corumba in the late afternoon and walked into the centre to find a cheap hotel. It was Sarah's birthday so we wanted to find a fancy restaurant, but the town is very small, and so the best place in town wasn't much to write home about. It was nice though and had a good atmosphere with a two-piece band playing local music. We were joined after dinner by an English guy James that we'd met on the Pantanal trip (where he had been joined by his parents), and he too was planning to make his way across the border and catch the train to Santa Cruz.

So the next morning we know we have to make our way back to the bus station to get our passports stamped and we met a German girl heading the same way from our hotel. Luckily she spoke really good Spanish, and so she organised all the various buses and stuff that we needed to sort out while we just followed her about. This basically involved a bus from the centre to the bus station, passport stamped (after the office opened 45 minutes late - apparently the Brazilians don't have much respect for the Bolivians), a bus back to the centre, a different bus to the Brazilian border, walk across the river/border, passport stamped on the Bolivian side, taxi from Bolivian side of border to the train station, and finally get train tickets for later that afternoon. It all went very smoothly though I have to say, no delays or any problems at all.

So then it was the train to Santa Cruz - a 22-hour affair that we all expected to be quite exhausting. In fact it would have been OK I think, but I ended up having the worst seat in the whole train carriage. I was sitting right in front of the carriage door, which would have been OK if not for the endless stream of people selling food and drinks. These local people just walk up and down the train selling their stuff, but unlike at home with the food trolley, they don't go past just once, they continuously walk up and down the length of the train for hours, and there are loads of these people, all basically selling the same kind of snacky stuff. The problem was that the door was literally three feet in front of my face and it was constantly being opened and closed while the sellers brushed against me to get through the door, or often the door wasn't closed properly (in which case I'd have to close it for them), or else the door latch wouldn't catch properly (in which case I'd have to lean forward to fix it and then close the door). And if I extended my knee too far the door would hit it and threaten to take my kneecap off. I had changed seats with the German girl so that I could sit opposite the aisle from Sarah - BIG mistake! Even the local Bolivian guy sitting next to me was being driven mad by the constant door opening/closing thing - he was a really nice guy in fact, and even offered to swap seats at one stage.

Eventually I got to move seats to sit beside a very strange young Australian guy who was hitching his way around South America on an incredibly small budget, and after chatting to him for ages I managed to get quite a few hours sleep before a guy got on board who had booked that seat (the centralised computer booking system seems to be quite sophisticated). So I had to return to my original seat - but by this stage it was the middle of the night, and so the food sellers weren't so common. The following morning they started again though, and so the last few hours were the same routine.

The train is often called the 'Death Train' by the way, a reference to the 1980's when it was far more chaotic and people used to fall off the roof and die or something, but cringingly backpackers still refer to it by it's old name and they all seem to think the name is really 'cool' - sigh!

Anyway, once in Santa Cruz we got a local bus (followed shortly by another local bus, this time the correct one - the German girl's Spanish saving the day again!) to the centre of town and checked out a few hostels. We got a great cheap place very near the main square (on Avenue Santa Barbera) and, as usual, ended up staying a few days. Santa Cruz is a nice town with a very pleasant central plaza and so easy enough to relax in.

The plan was to make our way South to the famous Salt Flats, and the options where a really cheap and long bus journey, or a very short direct flight. But 120km down the road South is a famous town called Samaipata that was supposedly well worth a look. Being only 2.5 hours away I reckoned it would be a shame to miss it, so we decided to get a shared taxi there.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

The Pantanal

So like I said, I think all budget tours of the Pantanal are basically the same thing - 3 nights, 4 days of doing various kinds of trips into the Pantanal while staying at a lodge, so anyone who has done it will be familiar with my experiences.

We arrived at our lodge in the late morning, just in time for lunch (again George had given us good advice about what bus to catch from Campo Grange, the other operators suggesting later buses). Then after lunch we had a boat trip along the Miranda River, which ran right outside the lodge (when not on a trip, or waiting for one, I'd just sit in one of the comfy chairs on the veranda looking at the river and reading).

Within minutes of setting off in the boat we spotted a huge green lizard, and got really close to him before he scuttled off his branch and fell into the river and disappeared. Right after that we started seeing the caimans (small crocs), and lots of them, lounging on the river banks and scuttling into the water when our small boat approached. We also got to see a few of the huge storks that are the symbol of the Pantanal. But basically it's just a leisurely boat trip down and back up the river, although we did stop at a small sandy beach at a curve in the river and popped in for refreshing swim (obviously we'd been informed that caiman never attack humans, but of course only three of the people on our boat 'braved' the croc infested waters!).

Our next day was a full day safari in the wetlands themselves. This involved a long drive along the only road in the Southern Pantanal (I think the North is similar in that it also has only one long road running through it for access). As we cruised along we spotted loads of birds of course, although not in flocks, and tons of caiman lounging by small water pools. At one stage we all got out to see the caiman up close and got to see two large one fighting over a couple of live, flapping about fish one of them had just caught. Apparently the rains have pretty much finished now and so the water is receding, meaning less water for the fish to move about in, which in turn makes for very easy hunting for the caimans. At another small pool we could actually see the poor fish gasping for oxygen at the surface as the water was drying up. We also passed a group of gauchos (South American cowboys) herding their cattle down the road, which was pretty cool too.

After lunch we all got out of the safari truck and started hiking through the bush proper. This of course was the highlight of the whole trip for me, as it really felt like we were in the wilderness now (and the road you drive along is paralleled with high-tension electricity pylons and cables, which naturally is a great pity). Early on the guide (Rony) brings us to an armadillo den under the carcass of a cow, and we all creep up really close (I'm pretty sure this critter has lived there for a good while as the guide went straight to him, but earlier another armadillo had scurried across the main road, and I got a great view of him as I was up the front). So yes, yet another mad critter ticked off the 'must see' list for me.

We hiked for the whole afternoon, often wading through knee deep water in our barefeet, which was cool. We got to spot a group of blue macaws, and later a pair of scarlet macaws, which are all apparently making a good comeback after being endangered due to the illegal rare bird trade. We also spotted moneys and small deer, wild pigs, loads of big kingfishers, quite a few mad looking toucans (don't know why I got so excited seeing one in Iguasu Falls, as I've seen loads of wild ones now!), a few capybara and a family of curious giant otters in a small water pool.

It was on this hike that I suffered my first wild animal attack. I heard it first as a loud buzzing noise and then felt something on the back of my neck. I tried to swat it away, but it felt quite big and wouldn't budge. Then the guide suddenly shouted 'Run, Run!' to everyone and as I started running I could see a number of these huge black wasps buzzing around. Obviously I'd been stung by one as had a couple of other people on the hike. Turns out that black wasps are not stinging because they're threatened or anything, but to try and lay their eggs! Pretty disgusting thought but nothing to worry about apparently, as it takes them a while and my one got swatted away after a couple of attempts. Some of the other people on the hike got a right fright though, as they hadn't seen the wasps at all and so had no idea why the guide had shouted in such a panicky voice, some of them even thinking the group was being attacked by a jaguar - as if!

The next morning it was just me and Sarah for the horse riding - well mule riding in fact. This was a nice leisurely affair, and we only got to canter a few times on an out-and-back trail between the main road and the electricity pylons! After the same-old-same-old lunch of rice, beans and meat we did the boat trip again (we could have done the 'piranha fishing' activity, but we knew that only takes half-an-hour before you get bored so we decided to hop on the boat instead (these lodge places are very relaxed, and your pretty much free to do whatever activity you like if there is room)). This was much the same as the first boat trip, only we had a lot more time to swim at the small beach. Rony the guide had actually brought along fishing gear too, so we all had a go fishing for piranha in-between swimming with the wee biters and the caiman.

We all caught a couple of fish, as they start to bite almost the second you drop the baited hook into the water (so I'm assuming the river was pretty much infested with them, but again, they never attack humans (unless you have a bleeding cut or something I suppose)). On the way back in the boat we saw more otters, and this time got to see them come up on the river bank and dive into their den. It was cool to see them out of the water, as you can then really appreciate their impressive size.

The next day was our last (and Sarah's birthday), but we didn't have to catch the bus to Corumba until 15:30, so in the morning we got to 'tube' down the river - basically you just sit in a big inflated tyre and float down the river. Again this was lovely and relaxing, and with no boat engine noise it was really peaceful too. It was cool to just float past caiman and feel tiny fish nibble at the hairs of your bum as it stuck out through the tube into the water.

I got very excited at one stage though as I was sure I spotted an anaconda. I shouted at the boat that floated along beside us, and they went over to investigate. It did indeed turn out to be an anaconda (which apparently can grow up to 35 feet long!), but this was a dead one, and only half of one at that (the other half presumably eaten by the caimans). The guide poked it out from the branches it was caught in and it floated down the river with us. I paddled over to get a good look and to poke it a bit, but it was quite stinky and bloated - still pretty cool though!

When we floated back to the lodge we showered and then did a spot more piranha fishing before lunch. Sarah was the undisputed queen, catching loads while I only managed one wee tiddler (which got thrown back in). You get to eat the ones you catch for lunch and they're quite tasty, although there isn't much meat on them (but their teeth really are amazing).

So after another lunch of rice and beans (the food was good and plentiful, but very much the same every day), we were dropped off on the main highway and after a short wait we caught the bus to Corumba on the border with Bolivia.

Campo Grande (gateway to the Pantanal)

Again our overnight bus arrived really early in the morning, about 05:30. The cool thing about this though (especially when it's on a comfy bus on which you can get a decent sleep) is that it gives you plenty of time to sort out accommodation, or whatever else you need to do. It also means you can safely ignore any touts that approach you, while at the same time taking their information leaflets to give you a general idea of what's on offer.

So after Sarah checked out a few local hotels, and I checked out the local tourist office, we worked out that we didn't really need to stay in Campo Grande at all, as it's really just a staging post for trips into the Pantanal (our entire reason for coming here in the first place), and doesn't have much to offer tourists in it's own right.

The Pantanal is the world's largest wetland area and is famous for various animals (jaguar, anaconda snakes, capybara - the world's largest rodent, which any David Attenbough fan will be familiar with), but mostly it's famous for it's profusion of birdlife.

So I then checked out three different tour operators, thinking it might be similar to African safaris. It turns out the operators are purely brokers for accommodation outfits inside the Pantanal itself, and so all the operators basically offer the same thing, differing only on location really. After a bit of tooing-and-froing I decided to go with a one-man show who seemed very genuine and was prepared to haggle a bit. His name was George (his company Eco Pan) and he turned out to be a great choice, as he took great care of us, and everything he told us turned out to be true (although my first choice place, Santa Clara, was full).

So our safari of the Pantanal included a free night in Campo Grande (all the operators offer this), which allows you to set off early the next morning. George escorted us around the corner to our hotel, which turned out to be a really lovely place, with a great breakfast. At this stage it was late afternoon, but it was a great relief to have everything all sorted out without us having to leave the environs of the bus station that we'd arrived in earlier that morning. So after a cool dinner sitting on a raised separator in the middle of the road outside the station eating 6 different types of skewers (chicken hearts (yum!), BBQ'ed cheese, beef, etc) from a really smiley, chatty, entrepreneurial 20-year old local guy that George had recommended, it was an early night and a quickly gobbled breakfast before catching the 06:30 bus into the Pantanal proper to start our tour.