Leaving La Paz for Lake Titicaca

It is with a heavy heart that I have to say 'See you later Bolivia' (definitely not Goodbye).

We arrived in Cusco on Wednesday morning at 2:30am - although the bus driver let us sleep in the bus until 5:30 when he had to take it somewhere else. The last couple of days in La Paz involved a bit of rest while sampling the La Paz nightlife over the weekend.

I would have to say that La Paz would be very close to Rio de Janeiro as my favourite city. What it lacks in flambuoyancy (flambuoyant colours but not personalities) it makes up for in intrigue and natural wonders. The city itself is built in a valley shaped like a giant crater, with a second more poverty stricken side that spills over the edge and flows southward. Photos aren't capable of capturing the full width of the city, which is required to appreciate it's lego-like appearance of terracotta blocks cascading down the steep sides of the crater.

We caught a bus to Copacabana on lake Titicaca on Sunday afternoon and the following day caught an extremely slow barge across to the Isla del Sol (for those who remember your 'Amazing Lost Cities of Gold'). A 6km hike along the spine of the island gave us some stunning views of Lake Titicaca (the highest lake in the world) before another superb trout lunch and a barge back to Copacabana (a misplaced ticket meant we had to sneak aboard a different boat).

On Tuesday afternoon we caught a bus to Cusco with a 5 hour stop in Puno giving us enough time to take a trip across to the floating islands of Uros - a race of people who existed pre-Incan and built the entirity of their little civilisation out of reeds - floating on Lake Titicaca.

We have been baulking at doing the Inca trail due to the extreme expense (about US$200) and the fact it takes 4 days when we would rather do it in two or three (which would be feasible given the altitude rarely goes above 3000m, quite low after 3 weeks of acclimatising to 4000m and higher). So today we booked ourselves in for a slightly cheaper alternative. Mountain biking from 5000m down to 1000m then hike to Aguas Calientes at the bottom of Macchu Picchu and the up to the ruins the following day. Had a rest day today and then off on the bike/trek tomorrow (Friday) morning.


Photos from Titicaca will be in the Bolivia Album when they go up, and the rest will be in the Peru Album....will put up a link when they're ready.

Huayna Potosi

Just got back into La Paz this afternoon after one of the most contrasting experiences yet. Summitting the 6088m high peak of Huayna Potosi (whiner potoh-see).

We left La Paz yesterday morning under the impression that as far as getting to the top of a 6000m mountain, HP was probably one of the easiest, we just wanted to cross the 6000m mark off the 'to do' list for ones life. We had been told by the tour organiser that it was a two day trek, with day two commencing at 1am with a 7 hour hike to see the summit shortly after sunrise before the sun softened the ice and made climbing dangerous. But that seemed okay so we signed up.

With our two guides and one other climber we arrived at the foot of the mountain (approx 3500m) and immediatley questioned that advice that it was a simple climb. Two jagged peaks with awfully steep sides didn't bring back memories of walking up Mt Ainslie or Mt Cootha.

Day one was a 2 hour clamber through very rocky and unstable terrain up about 900m to the campsite for the night. The altitude was already causing troubles at this early stage as the climb up was not without frequent breath catching stops, but even more interesting was when we were lying in the tent a moment of not concentrating on taking deep breaths would find us gasping for air. Dinner at 5pm and we were supposed to sleep until 11:30pm when we would wake up for a quick brekkie and be on our way at the revised time of midnight. With six layers of clothing on my upper body 3 on my lower plus various additional extremity warmers, plus a sleeping bag, I went to bed feeling quite warm. The problems began when after 2 hours of trying to sleep Lucas asks if anyone else had fallen asleep at all, nope. It wasn't until around 10:00 that Lucas and our french mate fell asleep, while I continued to lay awake pondering many a thing. It was at about 11:30 when Lucas and everyone got up that I suddenly had solved all the worlds problems and was drifitng off to sleep. So I fought the urges to get up by claiming I was already dressed and didn't feel like breakfast anyway (a slight urge to throw up and a headache from my previous mind expanding contemplations meant I didn't really feel like eating anyway - probably not a good start to a 7 hour hike up nearly 2000m through snow and ice). But we soon got moving with crampons (sharp ice climbing shoes), ice picks, harnesses and torches, the fresh icy air making me feel a lot better.

The Climb....

We were aware of one section of the climb that was noted as 'mas dificil' - more difficult. Basically just a 40m section of nearly vertical ice that we had to get up before reaching the final ridge across and up the peak. It took us about 2 hours of moving at a fairly steady speed to reach this section and apart from the odd bout of breathlessness the altitude hadn' hampered the climb at all. But....as soon as we got to the top of this difficult section we found it almost impossible to walk more than 20m on flat ground - let alone steep snow - without collapsing in a gasping heap and nearly passing out, in fact the lack of sleep was just starting to kick in and every time we fell the ground gasping for air the desire to sleep was very powerful - this could also have been due to the well below zero temperatures.

After many stops and starts due to dying feeling we were both experiencing the thought crossed our minds to pull out as every step was agony on the lungs and the legs felt like they had run out of petrol (a cliche but an accurate one). But this was before we had even been faced with the final climb to the peak - a 250 metre near vertical ascent that we had not been forewarned of. But every time we collasped to the ice in the belief that was our last step on the mountain we could pull ourselves up and stagger another 10 steps up the mountain, so when faced with this final task to reach the peak we decided that even if it took us all week we would get there.

After close to an hour it felt like we hadn't moved 20 metres. The legs were barely in use by this stage and we were hanging onto our ice picks embedded in the slope and slowly hauling ourselves towards the peak, each time we passed out - by this stage we were immediately sleeping (I think I was sleeping because I was having dreams, there may be another definition of what was happening) for two or three minutes between further attempts to edge our way up. By the time we were two thirds of the way up this final stage the eastern sky was starting to turn pink and we really wanted to be at the peak for sunrise. So now instead of sleeping as I rested I turned my head towards the sunrise to remind myself to keep moving and not drift off again. As I saw the final 10 metres in front of me I held my breath and charged up throwing myself on the top, lying still for the next ten minutes as the sky went orange and red and slowly lit up the Andean range that we were looking down upon. The sight from that peak was one of the most beautiful I have seen so far - on one side was a raging electrical storm, on another was Andean peaks rising above the clouds, to the right was lake Titicaca and towards the left the dying nightime lights of the wonderous city of La Paz - all viewed from our pristine white throne at the top of it all.

The Weekend Part Two: Fruit truck back up Death Road

(read Part One first, click title for photos)

I woke up on Sunday morning to find that Lucas (the drunken wreck from the previous evening) had already had breakfast and swim in the pool. So I dragged myself to the balcony and had a cold (rare in Bolivia) bottle of coke for breakfast.

The previous day we'd seen goods trucks loaded with people in the back and we had decided that would be fun and scary way to get back up death road to La Paz. The transport we ended up taking to get to La Paz was:

1. On the roof of a 4x4 from the hotel to Coroico.
2. Back of a 4x4 from Coroico to Yalosi
3. Back of a fruit truck from Yalosi to La Paz outskirts
4. Minivan from outskirts to central La Paz and BURGERKING!!!!

The real adventure was the 4.5 hours in the fruit truck back up death road. Having to stand up for the first 4 hours with lactic acid in my legs being the only source of warmth. Suprisingly, teetering over the edge of an 800m drop in a rickety old truck as another truck squeezes past felt very safe. Mainly because I assumed that our objective of not dying and making it to the top were closely aligned with the driver's objectives. As we neared La Paz and hypothermia was possibly setting in, it began to snow and a kind chap sitting behind us offered to cover us with his yellow plastic sheet as well. I'd never imagined that being cramped and twisted among Bolivians under a yellow piece of plastic at the bottom of a truck could be the most heavenly feeling imaginable when compared to standing in the freezing cold wind and snow. But we made it - and had a huge Burgerking meal to warm us up.

The Weekend Part One: Mountain Biking Death Road, Bolivia

(click title to see photos)

Lucas's Birthday Weekend began with an early start on Saturday morning to meet the rest of the group also biking 'Death Road'. After a 45 minute bus ride we were at the top of the road (altitude - 4800m) and recieving brief instructions on how the brakes and gears work (I feared for those people who chose to bike this road without knowing how a bike works). The first part of the ride was a 45 minute sprint down some good (and steep) asphalt road - dropping about 1500m in altitude, and then the dangerous road began...

'Death Road' aka 'The Worlds Most Dangerous Road' has this reputation due to the 100+ people that die on it each year from cars, trucks and buses that travel the narrow track and plummet down the 800m vertical drop off the edges.

After only 5 minutes of racing down the bumpy dirt track I braked too hard round a bend and went sliding towards the edge of the road/cliff. Luckily my knee hooked itself onto a rock which slowed me down enough to pull up just at the edge. My knee felt a little bruised but good enough to keep riding to I hopped back on and kept going (although with more caution this time - so it was a blessing that I came off as I may have met a worse fate at the narrower more slippery sections further down).

About 5 hours and plenty of adrenalin later we arrived at Yalosi (altitude - 200m) for a warmish beer and some photos before catching the bus up to Coroico and our hotel. On arrival I removed the two layers of trousers I had been wearing to discover them both soaked in blood and a gaping hole in my knee. Which looked really interesting - I'd never been able to see so deep down to my bone before. I asked the tour guide if they had any bandaids I could use and he sent me to the hospital to get stitches. An hour and $10AUD later I had my knee stitched up and I was ready for a few quiet drinks to celebrate Lucas's birthday, and that was how Saturday ended....

The Potosi Mine - PHOTOS (click here and start page 3)

Yep the posts keep coming thick and fast - but the sights we have encountered in the past week or two just keep coming too.

On Monday afternoon we set off on the Potosi Mine tour with no idea what it might involve (except the much talked about dynamite use). To begin with we got ourselves kitted up in all the protective gear (including old tin helmets with lights operated by adding water to some sort of calcium based compound - forgotten its exact name). We then stopped in at the Miners Markets which exist to provide the miners with everything they need to work and live in the mines and also tourists the opportunity to buy more coca leaves + the special compound to mix with the leaves to ellicit the appropriate effect, dynamite, detonators, ammonium nitrate, 96% alcohol and cinnamon and something cigarettes (all of which are presents for the miners).

The next step of the journey was to venture into the mine (probably the worlds highest mine at 4800 metres). After crossing paths with various miners (one of whom had been working the mine for 50 years - 7 days a week - another asked us the time, not knowing if it was day or night or how long he had been underground), we met a couple who were digging the little holes to place dynamite into and blow the tunnel downwards. Each hole - about 50cm in depth and 1 inch in diameter takes between 2 and 4 hours to dig with a chisel and hammer, so the five holes we arrived to put our dynamite and ammonium nitrate into would have taken over 10 hours to dig. Which is mind blowing given the size of the mine (a vast labyrinth over 3km in depth - all mined by hand - and small dynamite explosions since 1952 - the mine started in the 1600's and was mined by the ensalved indigenous population, who were forced to live in the mine for up to six months at a time or until they died).

The most exhilirating part of the tour (due to the adrenalin and claustrophobic feeling) was crawling full length through stretches of tunnel barely shoulder width with nothing but a temperamental flame from our helmets providing light. And also climbing through vertical sections of tunnel with slippery walls and no safety precautions if we were to slip and plummet back down on top of the others. There were definitely moments when the space and air of the outside world was extremely appealing when compared to the dimly lit narrow labyrinth we edged our way through. It is hard imagine that the miners spent most of their lives (from age 12) slowly chipping away at these walls deep underground. The mine is a free-for-all operation with families (usually) mining whatever section of a tunnel they can find a mineral vein and then they sell the raw material to the foreign owned refineries for a pittance. There is a large amount of respect for and between the miners and the stealing of other miners materials or encroaching on their new found mineral vein seldom happens.

We are in Sucre now (Boli capital) and head to La Paz on the overnight bus tomorrow - the cultural heart of Bolivia, we have purchased an array of knick knacks and a guitar for lucas.

Off to dinner now. Happy days everybody.

New Photos + The Potosí blockade

New photos - in order of appearance:

Mendoza and Salta (Argentina)
http://www.lucas.intercate.net/gallery/Mendoza-and-Salta
San Pedro de Atacama (Chile)
http://www.lucas.intercate.net/gallery/San-Pedro-de-Atacama
Salar de Uyuni (Bolivia)
http://www.lucas.intercate.net/gallery/Salar-de-Uyuni
Uyuni and Potosí (Bolivia)
http://www.lucas.intercate.net/gallery/Uyuni-and-Potosi

Right - the road from Uyuni to Potosí and the Potosí blockade......

We were planning on catching the 10am bus out of Uyuni and expected to reach Potosí (the worlds highest city) by around 4pm that afternoon.

Problem 1:

Just after purchasing the tickets we were informed that there was a blockade about 3 hours down the road and that the bus wouldn't be leaving until 7pm that night (getting us in to Potosí in the wee hours of the morning). Someone had been tipped off about a service that drives 7 people (our exact number) in a 4-wheel drive to pretty much wherever they want to go in Bolivia - with some knowledge of back roads to bypass the common blockades. So we arranged for a vehicle to take us and went back to bus office to collect our packs.

Problem 2:

The bus office was closed and locked (with our packs in it) and some discussion with some locals revealed that the office wouldn't be open for another 4 hours. After some attempts to unscrew the bolts in the door and some nervous locals starting to interfere they finally agreed to ring the bus company to get someone to come and open the door. Forty five minutes later and the door was open and we were leaping into the landcruiser and on our way to Potosí. Our driver claimed he knew a back way that would be easier to get through the blockade.

Problem 3:

As anticipated, about 3 hours into the drive we came across the blockade - basically 40 trucks in a row blocking any transport through a small town (not sure of its name). And they were adament that nobody would be allowed through this part of the road and we would have to return to Uyuni and go to another city (the blockade was due to a disagreement between the Bus companies of Uyuni and the Potosí locals due to the high prices for bus tickets being unaffordable for the Bolivians as a result of tourism and they wanted a two-tier pricing system). Luckily the bus driver had been told of a local who knew a back-back way that was pretty dodgy but would get us to Potosí that night.

Problem 4:

It was about 5pm when we reached the blockade and apparently the local who could guide us through the wastelands of the Bolivian altiplano was working tonight and wouldn't knock off until 10pm. After sitting in the car for two hours watching lightening on the horizon and listening to the constant (what we hoped were) dynamite explosions coming from around the corner, the guide found someone to fill in and we were back on the road (I use the term 'road' loosely).

Problem 5:

It was now dark and the guide seemed a little drunk and there was definite smell of marijuana from someone (him or our driver - who knows). Which resulted in numerous U-turns, back tracks, pauses to make sure we were going in the right direction.

The Finale:

Despite the most difficult 4-wheel driving I've ever seen, the U-turns, pushing the car, teetering on the edge of cliffs with the vehicle on the steep angle we rounded yet another bend to be dazzled by Potosí snaking its way up and around the valley it sits in. Today we were greeted with a beautiful day and the bustling town of Potosí with all it's culture. Some exploring this morning and then the mine tour (lots of mining in Bolivia - silver here).

Salar de Uyuni - !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can barely begin to imagine what words could be used to describe the sights and experience of the past few days. I doubt any language is capable of doing justice to the beauty and magnificence of the lands we just passed through.

I'll try to describe the events chronologically.

Day One - Leaving San Pedro de Atacama and crossing the Bolivian border

Lucas and I were up and packing our tent up just prior to sunrise and also in time for a stampede of angry german shepherds racing to harrass some unfortunate being. A quick ham and cheese sandwich for breakfast and then into a minivan with some fellow travellers to the Bolivian border. The border consisted of a tiny little shack in the middle of the desert, which is a familiar sight in this stretch of the continent - tiny little stone or mud buildings surrounded by the vast silence of dust and mountains - nothing else (possibly the odd llama). The lowest altitude we reached over the last few days is about 3500 metres, with an average of around 4000. As you'd expect the simple task of walking up a small hill gets the lungs burning and heart pounding.

At the border we all (seven of us - plus driver) piled into an old landcruiser - our transport for the next three days. The rest of the day was a long rocky drive (with plenty of photo stops) through the desert and around the ubiquitous dormant volcanoes. The day finished at Laguna Colorado - a huge flamingo colony in a patchy (turquoise and terracotta) lagoon - another spectacular sunset over the mountains and desert, once again leaving us all awestruck.

Day Two - Lagoons, geysers, eerie stone formations, Hotel Salar

Once again an early getaway to see the sunrise and the copious shallow lagoons (each with its own colour and character). A quick stop at some geysers (hot steam like a kettle blowing up through the ground and mud) and then to the Arboles Piedras (stone trees) - once again a unique and mind blowing assortment of rocks - this is one part where I don't have the words to describe what we saw or the feelings it evokes, just one of those things that you have to do yourself.

I think I'll just have to refer you to the photos - I can't describe these things well enough (plus I want to describe the last day more....). But I'll finish up day two by mentioning that we slept in a hotel made entirely from salt.

Day Three - Drunken driver, the salt lake, Gasolina!!

The plan for the final day was to wake up at 5:30 and the driver would take us out into the salt lake for sunrise. Things didn't go according to plan......

WE woke up at 5:50 and were ready to go by 6:00. Four hours later we located our driver, still drinking from the night before, absolutely shattered, barely able to stand up or speak. We managed to get the car key from him and load our stuff onto the car and drive down the hill to where he was drinking. After managing to coax him into the car we set off into the Salar de Uyuni (the huge salt lake, who knows how many hundred thousand square kilometres of salt). The driver slept and we drove (with very little petrol at this early stage), all piling onto the roof as we sped across the desert (aka the salt lake - it really was a vast flat expanse of nothing but salt, with mountains in the distance). After a lunch break and asking for directions we put the last 20 litres of diesel into the car and set off for what we thought would be a two hour drive to Uyuni across the desert. About 45 minutes into the drive the driver woke up and informed us we were going in totally the wrong direction and he didn't really know where we were, but he thought Uyuni was somewhere to the east. So we did a 180 degree turn and set off for Uyuni (we hoped). About an hour into this phase we finally ran out of petrol. The driver and one of the other guys set off walking to the edge of the salt desert and hopefully some petrol (we had no idea how far the nearest town was). Luckily about an hour into our wait another car was cruising past in the distance. We frantically charged across the desert waving our jumpers in the air and yelling for them to see us. For one moment they looked like they were going to ignore us, but finally they turned in our direction. After informing us that they couldn't spare any petrol they agreed to collect the other two and drive them to the nearest place where they could buy petrol. So another hour and a half later as the sun was finally dipping below the horizon our driver returned in the back of another car with about 5 litres of diesel. Which turned out to be an insufficient amount, as we ran out of petrol again - this time much closer to a little town and we managed to get petrol and be back on the road in about 20 minutes.

While running out of petrol in the desert for a few hours might not sound that exciting, the hour or two that we waited, not knowing how long the others would be or if they would even find us again (it would be almost impossible to find us in the dark), was unforgettable. Although we all knew we would be okay, we didn't know just how long we would have to wait (with our two litres of water between six) for someone to come with petrol.

San Pedro de Atacama and beyond

Here's an update of whats been going on over the last few days and what's coming up (no email for a few days).

Left Santiago on sunday morning and arrived in Mendoza (Argentina) on Sunday afternoon, had a two hour stopover and a quick meal (Lomo - am now a religious lamb sandwich eater) with the British couple we travelled to Pucon with. Then back on the bus for another 18 hours north to Salta, an excellent gym session with Lucas on arrival followed by a meal, movie and straight to bed. Woke up this morning for our 6:30am date with another 11 hour bus ride to our current location - San Pedro de Atacama - the driest place on earth.

As you'd expect from the driest place on earth it is also the dustiest place on earth, but the sunset this afternoon was awe inspiring seeing the last rays of sun catch the distant snow capped peaks above the vast expanse of nothing. The stars tonight are also something else - aside from the dim street lamps there is no light within 100km of this town, so the skies are glittering tonight.

The other thing you'd expect from the driest place on earth is that no-one would want to live here, as a result, the town exists solely as a portal for tourists heading to/from the Salar de Uyuni salt flats (and associated natural wonders) in the south of Bolivia. Which is where we are headed first thing tomorrow for an infamous 3 day tour of the area finishing in Uyuni, Bolivia. If the stories are true you'll hear all about why they are infamous when/if we get to Uyuni.

We've also just realised that if we want to meet our mid-June deadline for the UK we are already half way through our journey. Which makes me want to defer going to the UK for another month, but at the same time has made us more mindful of spending too many 'relaxation' days in cheap towns.

Hope everyone is going well and thing aren't starting to cool off too much just yet!

Mendoza (and back to Santiago + Riots)

The last couple of days have been spent relaxing in Argentinian wine (and olive and spirit) country - Mendoza. The winery tour we booked ourselves in for yesterday was actually a tour of a distillery (grappa and mandarin liqueur tasting), and olive grove (for olive grovellers these are the vital stats - 100yr old trees, frantoio and arbequina only in argentina, cold pressing for the boutique ex.v oil and centrifuge for the commerical ex.v. oil, although quality is identical the darker colour of the cold pressed (due to the leaves) is a common myth indicating higher quality, produce a blend of the two varieties, traditional row spacing, trees about 15ft high with a thick trunk and three main branches coming out about 1-2 ft above the ground, all grown from cuttings) plus two winerys - although I was more excited about the grove as you may have guessed.

After almost dying of hunger we walked in town searching for a huge Parilla, which we found and couldn't eat a quarter of, so we doggy bagged it and went home to bed.

We had decided a couple of days ago to try doing some solo travelling (not through any disagreement or falling out), so today I jumped on a bus back to Santiago and Lucas heads to Salta tonight.

I arrived on the street where my hostel is to find that a concert is being held and 2 million Chileans are packing the streets, after some to-ing and fro-ing I managed to squeeze my way to the hostel. Despite Visa refunding the money stolen in Rio (yay!!) I still have no access to cash. Lucas did give me a wad of argentine pesos to see me through until we catch up again, but unfortunately I arrived after the money changers had closed, so I'm without any money until tomorrow.

I'll be off the photographic radar for a little while, but I'll try to keep this page updated.

(The writing of this post was cut short by riots from the above mentioned youths of Santiago. I found myself running through the streets with them dodging police power hoses mounted on trucks and using my t-shirt as a face mask amidst the tear gas. Luckily the riot police - with their batons and shields could tell I was a gringo and let me pass through their marching blockade to my hostel. Definitely got the adrenalin pumping when at first I could only hear screaming and waves of people sprinting away from where I was trying to get to.)