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Round the world!!!
a travel blog by
Pete+Rochelle
4 1/2 months with no work, no keys, no responsibilities- doesn't get better than this!!!
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Cusco to Puno 30th Nov
Puno
,
Peru
Tuesday we took a bus to Puno, a city that has Lake Titicaca on its side. Instead of taking a boring old bus that just drove us there, we decided to get a ‘tour’ bus, one that stopped off at Inca sights and towns along the way- lunch included! The problem was our guide had to speak in both Spanish and Ingles, with a lot of information to translate to us all. He would start to inform the group with the Spanish, let them go and explore, and then gave the English version. And so the time he had finished talking about either the ruins, town or church, he would say- ok, now you have eight minutes to explore the place. Not a lot of time when there was a lot to look at. We were a little disappointed with that, but overall it was a good day and again, the buffet food for lunch was amazing. Let’s look inside the round window-
From Cusco we went to the town of Andahuaylillas (pronounce that one!) The town was very small and had a big central square where the locals had all their wares out to sell. There was a 17th century Jesuit church which was very over-the-top inside. It was originally an Inca temple, but of course the Spanish fuckers took over residency when they invaded and it is now a catholic/Inca bastard church. It was filed with amazing murals over the walls painted by a local Cuscanian painter who used all natural dyes from plants, horse piss (this is Peter’s truth); the ceiling and alters adorned in gold. We understood our respectful duty not to take photos inside the places of worship, but I would’ve loved to have photo evidence of the big mural that covered the walls either side if the exit/entrance/salida. The moral was a portrait of two scenes, one depicting the path to hell and the road sinners will take. This highway to hell was impressive and beautiful, covered with flowers and presumably an easy path to take. The picturesque moral tale showed these people dressed lavishly as they walk down a ‘trepid’ moral path: be warned the road hell is a comfortable one with one scary looking mother fucker at the end of the line bathed in fire. You’ve been warned: may not your life be one of convenience and decadence. Moreover, that is on the other side of the door, a continuation of this moral mural, a sum of people were seen with a jovial man seated at the head of a grand table, his friends all eating and drinking. This contrasting scene demonstrates the importance of sharing worldly goods and being charitable….Similarly to its sister mural that shows a road that is smaller is size and is somewhat harder to take The same character who is seen on the adjacent wall is taking a similar journey. Awesomely in this mural he was naked, signifying that it makes no difference in heaven what you had, owned on earth, everybody is the same after death has taken you mortal soul. There were lines which went from the man’s back straight to the eyes of the devil on the other mural, showing that evil and its temptation always has its eye on ‘you! All in all it wasn’t just a mural on the wall, it was quite something to behold. The funny thing was, it was the Spanish that put the mural up there, the same mother fuckers that usurped gold from the Incas and destroying their cities. Perhaps their morals were just painted on.
From this dubious place we went to the town of Raqchi. This is a town set around an old Inca sight, which holds the temple of Viracocha. All that is left of it is the main beam which would have held its roof. Its the highest Incan building of their civilisation that is still standing. It was pretty big. The old town around it was impressive too, some of the old storage houses were still in tact and we were shown where the remains of the village was and how perfect the rows of houses were in line with each other and how the Inca’s buildings all were in alignment with the sun or their god Sol.
We then stopped off at a little place which the name of we can’t remember. It wasn’t even a town, just a shop really, that had llamas and alpacas and guinea pigs and even a playful puppy ‘the Hairy Dragon’. This place had stalls where you could buy jewellery and clothes as per. I don’t know if we will ever get used to the fact that everything we do and everywhere we go is an exercise for the locals to try and sell us stuff? They’re like fuckin’ ninjas at the game. Pay attention and you’ll defiantly see an this immerging pattern over the next few days worth of blog.
Next off the bus took us over the Abra la Raya pass, which is 4319 metres above sea level, where we saw beautiful snow capped mountains and ranges either side of it. We stopped for a photo opportunity and a look at all the stalls (surprise, surprise) witch were a wash of similar if not the same wares as the 22 days before. Even the beautiful terrain of the Atitlan (flat planes) didn‘t make them look exotic enough to buy.
Amazingly when you’re on this plateau you are deprived of seeing trees or crops, your only drawn towards big open planes with mountains surrounding them. Our guide was told us that the communities that do live out on the planes struggle a lot- they have no electricity and in winter a lot of children die from the cold. The government has incentives in place to try and collect as much clothing and blankets from other towns and cities to give to these communities before the winters to try and help. it’s a very harsh way of living but the only ay they know. Here’s a nugget of information: due to the lack of wood they must make their fires from cow shit.
We stopped at the town of Pucara, the birthplace of the ceramic bulls. Most houses that we had seen in Peru (mainly in the smaller towns) had a couple of these bulls on the roof with a cross between them. The bulls are to bring prosperity and luck into the home, while the cross is for the catholic aspect and to have God’s love fountain over there homes. There was also a museum that held a lot of Incan treasure and statues, even one that was supposed to be a frog but looked a bit like ET. Our guide reckons that Steven Speilberg must of seen it before coming up with the character of the movie. Trust us, some of these guides are full of shite.
E.Tville was out last sight before making it to Puno. We were picked up by our local travel agent, shown to our hotel, and booked our onward travels. We went out for a bite to eat and just happened to walk past Louise and Liz on the street! So we had dinner together and talked about where we would next meet up, in Bolivia.
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 7, 2010
from
Puno
,
Peru
from the travel blog:
Round the world!!!
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LAKE TITICACA- GRANDE LARGO
Puno
,
Peru
1st-2nd Dec
I need to start by saying I am dreading putting photos into this blog entry as there are so many that I love. Please look at all the ones from Puno/Lake Titicaca as I want you to see them all!!!
Wednesday morning we put our stuff in storage and made our way to the native islands of Lake Titicaca. We were picked up and taken to the lake to get our boat to our destination. We made friends with Melanie and Andrea who were travelling together from England, and we met another traveller-cum-friend-Lucy, a fellow Kiwi!!! A first for both Lucy and I in South America- and I thought that the Kiwi was only rare species in our homeland. Towards our destination my new found girl posse spent the boat ride comparing travels (Mel and Andrea were coming from the way we were heading) and telling them stories of Australia and NZ, while Pete started reading his 14th book.
Our first stop on the boat was to the floating islands of the Euros people where we had ladies singing and greeting us when we were getting off the boat. These islands were amazing. They are totally man made, and made from Totora reeds. When you stand on them, they bounce and squish!! On the island we were given a demonstration about how the islands were made by the chief of the island he explained that, “they use the existing native reeds, which have buoyant properties as the foundations of the island and we put layers of harvested reeds over top creating a natural-artificial land bank; three metres of reeds per 10kf of inhabited weight!” Well I think that’s what he said. Once a month the residence must put more layers of reeds on and once a year need to fit new roofs. They use the hard ends of the reeds for materials and use this same method to renew their boats, which unlike their houses last 3 years. By association the island peoples should be made of reeds as they eat them too. We were shown how to peel and eat one, the taste not being very exciting. They call them the island banana. If we thought that their transport and culinary systems were a tad old reed hat, it must be said that they do have solar panels fitted to generate electricity, boasting stereos and black and white TV for all on the island! The chief also showed us how they hunt for duck and demonstrated duck calls and mimed how to kill one of these illusive suckers. The chief was very comical in his presentation and a natural showman even without the assistance of English. Some of the locals dressed us in their trad clothing and again we were shown their merch to buy. We did enjoy the floating islands very much and could’ve spent longer just sitting on their islands and playing with their babies in the
non-criminal sense.
OUr homestay
Our next stop was Isla Amantami where we stayed the night. We were greeted by the locals who were also going to be our hosts for the evening. We were divided up into groups and all taken to our hosts homes where we were shown our rooms introduced to the families. We were with Mel and Andrea who’s Spanish was definitely better than ours, but still not enough to have a conversation or find out too much about the family or the cultures. We were feed a great lunch with some fried cheese that tasted just like haloumi (we were all so excited!) and spent the afternoon playing with Sabrina, the young girl of the family, who seemed to be very scared of Pete and didn’t want to play with him, or me for that matter, she was very taken by the other two tho! I won her over later with lollies, the best way to a child’s heart.
Later in the afternoon we went for a walk to a nearby mountain; the name of which escapes me again. Pete decided he had had enough walking, so I went with the girls and meet up with the rest of the group. I need to tell you here that I wasn’t entirely happy with our guide, the fact that we had a language barrier with our hosts we couldn’t get all the details of the walk, and our guide didn’t explain until we met him that we were watching the sunset on top of the mountain. What I’m trying top say is that the group didn’t bring enough clothes and froze. The sunset was beautiful though, and at the top of the mountain was a big square fence surrounding God knows what, of which the locals once a year walk around three times and ask for a wish from Pacamama (Mother Earth). We all did the walk and I think most of us wished for rain for the island and its people, as it has been a particularly dry winter so far and they couldn’t grow any lucrative crops. We watched the sun and hopped around trying to warm up and finally walked back to the house to put on more layers and have a dinner. Another thing we can’t get over is how the meals always seem to be served with two types of starch- rice and chips or rice and potatoes and meat. Guess its an easy way to fill you up.
After dinner our hosts dressed us up in their typical clothes and took us to a fiesta. All the other groups were there with their hosts and they had young guys playing music and we all danced around in big circles or with the hosts or with each other. It felt very much like a blue light disco that you would’ve gone to when you were twelve. It was funny at the beginning but went on a bit too long at the end. Our guide didn’t even show up, arsehole. There was no talk of any kind of typical dance or music and we had questions about the rest of our tour that couldn’t be answered. Very disappointing. Pete and I had bought some writing books and pens for the kids, so we handed them out and made some friends. We sweated our arses off. We had layers of our own clothes on underneath as we were so cold earlier. While dancing to the local music my skirt fell down, lucky I had the layers of clothing on underneath hey? We walked back to the house, Pete and I looked at the stars which were amazing. There were no electric lights, so the night was bright.
The next morning our hosts fed us breakfast and took us to the dock. We said our last goodbyes and hopped on the boat to go to Isla Taquile. The lake was very choppy and the boat extremely rocky not to be cocky Mel and Lucy were a bit worst for wear from the trip-we were fine. We arrived and had a lovely but awkward upward walk up a hill to get to the town square which was large and quite deserted. Our guide gave us a half hour free of time to look around, not really knowing where to go or much about the island, so couldn’t really do to much, another upset for Rochelle (this is my whinge time ok?!?!) In our half hour we took photos and looked down at the streets around the square and noticed that there were only footpaths, no actual roads as the island doesn’t have cars!!!!! Our guide took us to a restaurant for lunch where we had the best tasting trout ever that was caught from the lake. At lunch our guide explained a few of the customs of the locals. All the men wear hats, and depending on the hat and how its worn, it describes marital status. One type of hat can be worn three different ways. When the tip sits to the left means you’re looking for a long term partner; to the right means you’re looking for a partner just for the night, and the tip to the back means you’re not looking at all. There is another type of hat means your in a relationship, and there is also a bereavement hat. They have a rule that you must live with a partner for two years before you get married, as once you are married there is no divorce (he said that there were no problems with this, but how can you know?) They have no police and all problems are sorted out by the chief. Last of all, the islanders only have three rules to live by- don’t lie, don’t steal and don’t be lazy. Disobey these and your thrown off the island. Sounds a bit like a reality TV show aye!! Seems to work for them though!!
We got the boat back to Puno, had showers and met up with the girls and an Canadian couple for dinner. As it turned out, the place we decided to meet happened to be the main plaza where the locals were holding a election rally!!! Not as deserted as we planned. We found each other tho, and went to dinner, where we had wine, I have been missing a nice glass, and listened to Peruvian music. Pete and I went out to a funky little bar afterwards where we listened to Bob Marley and read all the notes on the wall left by travellers. They now have a couple of Lung Shrubs stickers to go with it!! It was a great couple of days exploring places completely different to anything we know.
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 7, 2010
from
Puno
,
Peru
from the travel blog:
Round the world!!!
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Welcome to Bolivia!!!
Copacabana
,
Bolivia
3rd-4th Dec
Again we must apoligise for our choice of hostels and hotels that promise wi-fi and they don't work!!! Because of this we have had to post three entries at once, so scroll down till you get to the bus trip and start from there. This is Rochelles nightmare and frustrations! Ahhhhh!!!
Friday we were up early to get the bus to Copacabana-Bolivia!! We tried to sleep most of the way, late night the night before. On the way we saw a guy on a push bike trying to double a sheep on his handle bars! He lost his balance and the poor sheep went rolling down a little hill. Think we’ve seen everything now. We stopped to change our money to Boliviano, and then stopped at the border. It didn’t really look like a border, just a arch over the road that was like a couple we had walked under on the islands. We waited in a long queue for the police, where there was just one man checking documents-they needed more, it was a mess. We had to walk up the hill, pass under an archway and hey presto we were in Bolivia! We went to immigration there, they stamped our passports, and that was that! Pretty easy. We hopped back on the bus and we were almost in Copacabana.
At the bus stop we were picked up and taken to our hostel, a beautiful looking building on a hill over looking the little town. We dropped our stuff off, and were off straight away to catch a boat to the Isla de Sol, Island of the Sun. Now, this part is my last bitch, I promise. When we booked the tour with the travel agent he said we would have enough time to have a good look around the Sol island. That we would arrive at 3.30pm and have till 6.30pm, enough time to look around, explore a bit. We asked him about the overnight stay and he said, no! That’s too long, the time allocated would be enough. Taking this guy’s advise we got to the boat only to have the driver tell us that the last boat back would be at 4pm, arriving back to Copacabana at 6.30pm. Not what we got told! The truth was that we needed to take an hour and a half boat ride each way and had only an one hour on the Island. That wasn’t even enough time to get to the top of the hill and back!!
The island looked beautiful too. There was a bit to explore on the island, as far as I could tell, and I would’ve been more than happy to just sit on the terraces with the trees and green grass and flowers if I had been given the opportunity. Not having more time on this Isla has been my biggest disappointment so far. Spending a nite there would have been heaven. Even two hours would have been nice.
We got back to Copacabana, had nachos and tacos on the main street, watched the sun set from the roof of our hostel and went to bed. Saturday morning after packing we had a great breakfast. Most of the time when breakfast is included in the room price its crap, but this morning we got pancakes and eggs and cereal and fruit and yoghurt. We had a little look around Copacabana and walked past the church just as a big band was walking past into the gates along with the military. We found out that it had something to do with being a once a year gathering of all the local police, and something to do with the virgin Mary? That’s the best we could understand. We took some photos then went to try and get hot chocolate but ended up with great big parfait glasses chocolate ice cream. Not exactly what you wanted when its 26 degrees and starting to hail. Copacabana is a very touristy town, not without its charm.
I think doing this all again we would have a whole day there too, as our bus to go to La Paz was leaving that afternoon. It would’ve been nice to see a bit more of the sights and sounds, maybe take a paddle boat on the lake, see the Inca sights. Anywho, our next entry will see us in La Paz, Bolivia’s capital city. Till next time- take care- Peter and Rochelle
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 7, 2010
from
Copacabana
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
Round the world!!!
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What blog?
Tupiza
,
Bolivia
Hey everyone!! We are in the middle of what feels like no where. Internet is slow, shops close on Sundays, everywhere is walking distance... and no wifi. So again the blogs will back up. We are on a 3 day jeep ride tomorrow through the salt flats of Uyuni and will be Chile after that, so will update you again soon!! Until then, slowly read through the ones we put up in bulk form. Hope your enjoying and thateveryone is well and getting in the christmas spirit. Love Pete and
Rochelle
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 14, 2010
from
Tupiza
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
Round the world!!!
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The big city
La Paz
,
Bolivia
Sat 3rd- Thurs 9th Dec
We hopped on the bumpiest four hour bus ride ever to get to La Paz which wasn’t the most comfortable, they should make a Disney themed ride: Buses of Bolivia; then make franchise movies staring us both and Johnny Depp as the crazed, daring bus driver. We did however have to hop off the bus halfway through to get a boat over a river crossing, while the bus went on a wooden barge powered by an outboard motor! We really expected to not see the bus again or our luggage!
The bumps on the road were soon forgot as La Paz came into view. We were cruising about taking in the piles of rubbish and ramshackle trade buildings when this mammoth city that hugged the valley walls literally took our breath way (to quote lonely planet) as its 3660 meters above sea level. There was no land, space, nook, outcrop, spared. The city consumed the landscape. La Paz truly is a sight to behold. It took us off guard as it was the biggest city that we had seen for a while.
As we made out decent into the city, the streets got smaller and smaller, and the near misses with cars, other buses and people became more frequent- call Jerry Brockheimer now. I don’t know if we’ll ever get used to the traffic over here by-the-way! Again, the drivers here are Loco! We were let off and found our way to the nearest hostel. The reception was on the second floor overlooking a café downstairs and as we were checking in we looked over the balcony and just happened to see Liz and Louise having a coffee!! Getting good at the stalking thing! We chilled out for a bit and met the girls out for dinner later.
Sunday morning we went for a walk around our area in search of a cheaper hostel. The place we were staying in was pretty cheap already, but when your in Bolivia you know you can get cheaper. We walked around for ages in search of one particular hostel we had heard of but couldn’t find, and ended up walking past government house at the same time as a big band was making its way down the street. We stopped and watched for a while and one of the uniformed men in the procession was carrying the Bolivian flag, folded up in a glass box. It started raining and these poor guys were stopped in the street for some unknown reason, so I took some photos and we left it at that. We found the hostel in the end, but ended up choosing one that was around the corner from where we were staying.
That afternoon we were supposed to go watch an exhibition soccer game with Liz and Louise but decided on going to a once-in-a-lifetime event. It was called Cholitas Wrestling. Cholita is the name of the traditional skirt that the local women wear that symbolises libre-freedom. That noted, it wasn’t a fashion event it was much more in vogue for a touristy arvo- a bunch of surly, mouthy, bunch of local ladies wrestling in a shabby ring…or so we thought. We went with a bunch of other tourists in a bus to a concrete stadium that looked like a bomb shelter on the out’skirts’ of La Paz, where we got free popcorn and a ringside seat. There were heaps if gringos there, along with a whole bunch of locals, with a big wrestling ring in the middle. A man got up and started to talk, everything was in Spanish so we couldn’t understand any of it, but next thing he was calling up the contestants and they were men!! With masks and caps!! It was just like WWF wrestling on telly, except these men weren’t as fit or as good at acting mean or hurt- now that’s saying something! It was so funny, we laughed so hard, and of course each match was rigged and the ’bad’ wrestler had the help of the referee. When a girl (Cholita) finally came out to fight, she was up against this pooncey guy, and even though you know the fights are staged we still couldn’t help wincing a few times at how bad she was getting beaten up.
Between each fight they played ’Eye of the Tiger’ over the PA and they even had the token speech about something or other by a wrestler and group fights, with some of the wrestlers ending up in some of the tourist’s laps!! We were a bit over it by the time it didn’t end, it went on a bit long. The majority of the fighters were men, with a couple of guys verses gals fights. We got right into the cheering and booing and yelling with everyone else. Afterwards we went to a restaurant for dinner and bumped into Liz and Louise again!! No need to correspond with these two, we always find them! We compared stories of wrestling and football and they went on their way.
Monday was pretty quiet. We moved hostels and I went to café to work on the blog (I really need to catch up!) While Pete played guitar in the hotel room. He joined me in the afternoon and we ended up spending a bit of time at the café talking to other travellers which was cool. We ended up at place for dinner that served Thai, Indian and Chinese food that had been recommended by Liz and Louise. We shared the best dim sums and an alpacha Indian dinner with beer and were served by the greatest waiter who charmed our pants off and made us laugh. It was a great night and great food.
Tuesday saw us going for another walk around and making our way to the museum of music. Now I’m not sure if I made you aware of the money issues we had in Peru, but we were having them here also. ATMs give you 100 boliviano notes ($14 dollars), and most things on the street cost between 4 to 20 boliviano so you’re guaranteed that the vendor doesn’t have change for a large note. It’s really quite stupid. This happened at the music museum. For example it was 5 boliviano each for entry, and we only had 100 bs. So we walked around for ages trying to find a cash machine just to get out a smaller note. We finally made it back to the museum and the whole thing would’ve lasted us 45 minutes at the most. It was filled with heaps of instruments however, mostly of South American origin, and a lot using animal shells and skins. There was even instruments you could play much to our amusement.
After our renditions of Twinkle Little Star on the ‘water bottles’ and Radiohead/Violent Femmes on the xylophone, we walked up a cute little alleyway and looked in all these little boutique stores which had some gorgeous handicrafts. On trying to purchase something we had the same money woes! We ended up having to go and have lunch at the nearest place we could find four blocks away so we could get some change to go back with. It can be such a mission at times.
That night Pete wanted to great dim sums again, so we went back to the same restaurant and had exactly the same food and the same entertaining waiter!
Wednesday we had organised a day tour around to some of the sights around La Paz. We were picked up by the most crammed mini bus ever. They had put way too many seats in it and poor Pete had no where to put his legs, which you know longer and more precious than Jamie-Lee Curtis‘!! We spent most of the tour in the damn thing to, which was loads of fun…right.
Check out the ice!!
Our first stop was to a mountain called Chacaltaya in the Royal mountain range just outside of La Paz. Its peak being 5430 metres above sea level. The bus took us to 5200 metres, we had to walk the rest. That was really hard going. The altitude made it feel as though our hearts were going to jump out our mouths. We got puffed heaps quicker and our heads started to hurt, but we made it, right to the lofty top (only five of us did it) and it was bitterly cold. The wind whipped at us and it even started to lightly snow. The view was amazing we really felt out in the middle of nowhere.
5430 meters above sea level!!
Once back in the van, we made the bumpy ride back down the hill on these one lane volcanic rock roads, past some little villages and through to the other side of La Paz. There we went to Valle de la Luna, the The Valley of the Moon. It let us tell you all it was out-of- this- world! The whole rock valley was limestone, and due to years of wind and rain erosion, parts of the limestone structure, and it’s ultimate future, had been washed away, leaving huge canyons and holes. There was a walking track to follow which took us through and over and around the canyons. It really didn’t look real…really. Our guide explained to us that the rich people lived out in this part of the city- the weather was nicer than in the city of La Paz. There was even a golf course! The highest in the world.
After a big day of mainly driving around in a hot little van, we ate pizza biggest pizza in La Paz and called it a day.
Valley of the moon
Thursday we went and organised a red-eye bus for that night to get us to Potosi-the mining town. It wasn’t leaving till eight pm, so we had quite a few hours to kill and no room to go back to. So we decided to go for another walk around to try to find the cinema. We got a little lost, but not such a bad thing when you have hours and want to see a city. When we did find the cinema, it only showed one movie and it wasn’t even one we knew, and not even in English! So we slowly walked back up the main strip. La Paz has a busy centre, with high rises and business and people all around, a real actual city!
We walked past a contemporary art museum, so we decided to go look. I remembered reading that this building is another of Mr Effiles creations, he has the tower in Paris, a corner building in the main plaza at Iquitos and a house in La Paz. It was a beautiful house, and the paintings and sculptures were great too, Pete thought they were shit. I hadn’t been feeling brilliant all day (I think the altitude from the day before was getting to me) so it nice to be in the quiet and just sit for a while.
Coca absenth
We made our way back slowly to the hostel that was holding our bags, and came across the Coca museum! The coca leaf is a huge part of everyday life and culture for Bolivians, and the Peruvian to be fair. It was only when the westerners got hold of it that its stigma was born. Because most of Bolivia is at such high altitude and due to their main industry and economic support being the mining industry, they use the coca leaves to chew on to help relieve: fatigue, the effects of the altitude sickness, and to subdue hunger, so they are able to work for longer down the mines without any real sustenance. The qualities of the leaf aside, the Spanish and the Catholic church started calling it the ‘devil’s leaf’, when they invaded South America and subsequently banned the chewing of it. That is until they discovered its benefits and the effects it had on their now slave population’s productivity in the silver mines. Being the benevolent souls they were they made an exception- let the people chew coca- happiness is a worn gum, and lifted the ban. It was interesting to read about the history of the coca leaf and afterwards we went to the café that was fixed to the museum where I had “She don’t lie, she don’t lie- coca tea” (which we drank lot of in Cusco and the Inca trail with the altitude) and tried coca chocolate cake. Pete the stupid gringo had coca mixed with absinth, which turned out to be, you guessed it, a disgusting, vile, putrid, uber-strong shot. Apart from tasting a tad of Pete’s drink I I actually felt better afterwards.
We then called in at a restaurant to have some tea and passed the time playing cards which has been our saviour of late. It was then off to the bus station to get our eleven hour bus to Potosi happy times!!
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 17, 2010
from
La Paz
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
Round the world!!!
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Miners town
Potosi
,
Bolivia
10th-11th Dec
Red eye is a 8pm- 6.30am bus. Lucky we had the greatest seats that went back quite a bit and the bus even had a pull down part from the back of the seat in front so you had like an actual bed. This was the first class of buses only because the bus companies name was ‘First Class‘. All was well except the toilet we were promised was not in order- or rather they had ’lost the key’, so it was there but we couldn’t use it-we crapped out. Laughable, no. Fact- its either dehydrate or piss yourself on Bolivian transport. The ride was fine apart from getting really cold in the early morning and I froze my toes off.
Potosi greeted us with the flashest bus station we have seen, not at all what we were expecting from a mining town in the middle of nowhere. We hopped in a cab and went to find a hostel, luckily the first one we went to had a room available straight away so we were able to put our stuff in there and get a few more hours sleep. We were shattered.
After a sleep in we went to have a look around the city. When we arrived in the morning it was pretty deserted and didn’t look like much, but by the time we went out people were about and it looked prettier. We stopped at a café to get some breakfast where the bacon was pretty much just fat. I managed to get a decent coffee however! We were in the main plaza, and there was some live music playing which was neat to watch.
We think they were trying to recruit people into the army from the look of the stalls. The should have had mariachis playing ’Chemical Warfare’ by Slayer to pep up the civilians, because by all accounts it was a pretty subdued affair; and if history has taught anything is that peaceful persuasion don’t win any recruits. See Tibetan army for my details.
We then went looking for a company that could give us a city tour that afternoon. The thing with Potosi is tourists go there to do the tours of the mines, which is not recommended for asthmatics (Pete) and people who don’t like confined spaces (Rochelle & lanky gringo Pete). But we didn’t want to miss out on experiencing the highest city in the world (4060 metres above sea level), so thought we would explore above ground. And we sure did.
The church/womens prison!!
We were the only people on our the tour we had chosen. With us was a driver and two guides, one main guide that could speak some English. The tour took us on a little walking expedition where our guides showed us the gates to the city, the women’s prison, which was actually a church, and explained some of the local architecture. They then took us to the miners square, which is where all protests and disputes over work conditions took place. Potosi is a lot bigger than we first expected and we found out that it used to be on the major cities in the world when the Spaniards were in charge due to the all important silver mines.
The miners never had any rights then, but they have a co-op and unions now (you’ll be happy to hear that Mez) and even though the pay still isn’t brilliant, they can work as hard as they want and whatever they find they profit from. The conditions are still really shitty in the mines and still to this day many miners die from the black lung. Our guides also showed us the dynamite the miners use, and the pure alcohol drink they have on Fridays to share with the underground demon that they leave sacrifices to (coca leaves, alcohol) to ensure there are no accidents underground and so that they may also prosper.
Miners graves
After the square they took us to the miner’s graveyard. This was a very moving and emotional place. Its where all the miners who have died either in or after working in the mines are buried, along with their spouses. Pete and I bought some flowers to pay respect to our guides family members. They were our age, and one had lost his 16 year old brother from a mining accident and both his parents and the other had lost his dad and 15 year old brother. This graveyard is so big its saddening and as we walked the guides would mutter “my aunty is down there” or “my uncle is down this way“. They have both lost so much family, but its not unusual there at thirty. We had a tear in our eyes as we left and we both felt very grateful to have all our immediate family still with us (love you all, Mums, Dads and Sisters). As sad as it was we are very glad that we got to see what the real Potosi is about and the impact that the mines have on this community.
We finished off our afternoon with a trip to a mountain which looks over the city and had a tower on it with a restaurant. A very mini version of the Sydney/Auckland sky towers. It was a great way to end it and a great look of the city. Our guide was hilarious and had us in fits of laughter with his humour, he said Pete looked like John Lennon,” but after twenty accidents.“
We finished off the day with dinner and then it was off to bed to get ready to catch a bus the next day to Tupiza.
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 18, 2010
from
Potosi
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
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Never look a gift horse in the mouth- they bite!
Tupiza
,
Bolivia
Sat 11th-Mon 13th Dec
Saturday we were up early to catch a seven hour bus to Tupiza which is located near the bottom of Bolivia. The bus was again terrible, with no leg space and if you dared put your seat back it pushed forward so you had even less room to move. There was no air con and it was so hot. We had a chocolate bar which was liquefied in no time. No toilet on this bus either! They didn’t even pretend there was one on board which was nice.
We made it to Tupiza, sweaty and hot and bothered, and went looking for our hostel. Tupiza is an extremely small town, and we found our hostel within metres from the bus station. We had showers, organised our tour for the next day, and went out for some early dinner, so well thought. It took us two hours to actually find a restruant that was bothered to serve food, nothing opened till seven- Bolivian time, which means Bolivians proudly have no sense of time at all and get around to doing appointments, services, things at their leisure. We were starving!! We ate at a cheap diner that had movie stars all over the walls(Hugh Grant-cough) and which played cheesy 80’s music. I was laughing, Pete wasn’t. South America LOVES 80’s music, especially Guns and Roses, Bon Jovi and Phil Collins (Note: Pete does NOT like Phil fucking Collins). It really was amusing, still is. We ate our cold meals, had a little look around and went to bed.
Sunday we had organised a horse ride that took us through the canyons of Tupiza. This would be the first time on a horse for both of us, so we were both excited and apprehensive. We went out in the morning and bought some apples for our horses (hoping for mercy) and met our guide. He spoke very basic English and pretty much got us on our horses straight away. He showed us how to move the horses from left to right and how to sto, then we were off. It was nerve wrecking! We took our time getting out of the town, practising moving the horses and getting out of the way of the occasional car. We then steered the horses off the already beaten track and bam we were in the middle of no where.
It was so quiet!! We went along dirt roads, across vast open spaces and tried trotting the horses a couple of times much to our sheer terror and surprise. Pete was riding great brown horse named Talea, and I had a spotty white one called Charbo, which I found out liked to bite the other horses when they got too close. Not good when I was trying to trot past Talea and he would go in for a nibble. On our journey we saw formations called Valia de Machos (don’t check the spelling), which are the thinnest long rock formations in Boliva, and looked like penises. The sheer size of the canyons took our breath away. After passing through a natural rock formation that resembled a doorway, our first stop saw us in the del Dwendy canyon which looked similiar to a Star Trek movie set.
We rode past a canyon wall called Alpeurto Diablo, Devil's mound, which was really impressive.
Then off to our last stop: Canyon del Inca, which was another big bowl of a canyon where we tried to feed our horses apples-no mucho gusto. I went for a big explore and hit my knee on a rock and now have a lovey scrape and bruise.
There were a few hairy moments on the trip when the horses had to go down really steep hills, and when we had to jump a stream which needless to say but I'll say it anyway-freaked me out!
Of horse riding, the horses didn’t really want to listen to us, they only had ears for Simon our guide, and they weren’t too keen on going fast too much either, which suited us just fine. So I'm pleased to write that we haver lived through our first horse riding experience, but our bodies weren’t liking us too much the next day. Talk about sore!! I was expecting the customary arse swelling, but didn't anticipate the: back, elbow, wrist, inner thigh, neck, pain. Pete is still trying to regain feeling in one of his left pointer due to holding on to the metal saddle too tightly we his horse bolted!
We went back to the hostel and had a great shower to get rid of the dirt and dust, then went out to dinner where I had the best lasagne. Gosh it was good.
So that was Tupiza- a tiny town in the middle of Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid country, were the canyons climb and the dogs are docile. Where you don’t even need to take a map out with you as it’s impossible to get lost. Ironically, I’m sure if you we were looking for someone out here you probably wouldn’t find them. But if you were counting on it, look no further then the local pub were tall beer is only 15c Australian.
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 19, 2010
from
Tupiza
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
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Mind your metal
Uyuni
,
Bolivia
Mon 13th- Tue 14h Dec
Dust storm
We were up early on Monday to catch a bus to Uyuni, pronounced Uni. This particular bus had all the special features: no-toilet, no-air conditioning and no-leg room. The uncomfortable ride was made worse by the mass of dust that would come through any gap in the bus, making our throats dry. As you can imagine the bus had more holes then a Bolivian mine shaft. The best part of the ride for me was the toilet stop when we asked the driver where it was, he pointed to a big, dry, river bed and said ’ikee' there. The more faint hearted girls opted for holding ‘it’, in. Me, I’m getting used to squatting like a bum these days. The only people that get embarrassed by this, supposedly uncivilized act as we had seen on our journey, are us precious gringos. Trust ladies you don’t lose much credibility dropping your pants in public over here, and the less you think about it, the better of your bladder I say!!
We arrived in Uyuni sweaty and Slim Dusty. We found a hostel in the square, had showers, and went out for some Bolivian cuisine. For you information, Uyuni is tick on Bolivia’s incredibly rocky back. We couldn’t walk fifty feet without someone trying to sell us a tour of the Salt Flats. Sadly there is not much going of his town except he the tourist dollar. The proof being that tourists themselves getting going nearly as soon as they arrive.
The next day we went for breakfast at a restaurant right next to where we were staying. A young guy with limited English served us who was wearing a ‘Metal’ t-shirt. From the smile on his face it was obvious it was he who had wacked on the Swedish metal playing on the TV. Pete got chatting to him (as best he could) about metal and he told us his brother was in a metal band based in La Paz. The kid took a few minutes and found his bro’s DVD and played some Bolivian metal for us. He then said that he was in a band also, and that he was playing ‘esta noche’, that night, and would we like to go? Hell yes!!!! He was going to pick us up from the restaurant that evening, he said he would be wearing make up, and we weren’t to tell anyone as it was an anti-christian group he played guitar for (90% of South Americans are catholic so you can understand the secrecy-heavy). We were excited!!! Something different!! He was exited, daring to be!!!!
We left him and went in search of a tour company to take us on a three day two night tour of the Salt Flats and lagoons. We found one we liked, booked, and went for a walk around the town. It literally took us half an hour. We then sat down for a beer and some card playing and for the first time on this trip. For the first time on our trip I was really really bored. Just a bit over hanging out with Pete the gringo, you know the feeling?
As we were making our way back to the hostel, our little metal friend saw us and told us there was a problem with our arrangement for the evening. That half his band was stuck in La Paz and it would be on the next night. Bottom line, we were going to miss the cultural event of the century- as we would be on our own tour. As compo he promised us a CD of his band, told us to meet him back at the restaurant at five pm to get the black market goods. No worries. So Pete went to play guitar in the room for a bit, and I took the laptop out to a café and sat down to work on blogs and photos. As I was sitting on the sidewalk, who should walk past- Liz and Louise!!! They had just finished the salt flats tour and were getting a train that evening. We decided to meet up later to have dinner.
I went back to get Pete to go to the restaurant to get the CD off our friend. We waited in the dining area and he came in and pretty much ignored us, no head-bang or even a nod!! Strange metal activity indeed. When he went to clean outside tables, Pete followed, and later told me that there was another problem- the Christian lady was working and he couldn’t give us the contraband, could we come back later at seven! So off we went. Pete ended up going to the restaurant about five times, each time he said, come back in five minutes. Finally he gave Pete a CD with nothing written on it-not his bands name, or the title of the album, EP, LP, single? We don’t have a CD player so we cannot find out what we’re in possession of. For all we know we could be in the middle of some Dan Brown, DaVinci Code, heavy metal cover-up conspiracy plot….heavy man.
‘Paranoid’ aside, the b-side was that the girls bought their backpacks to leave at ours and we went to a highly recommended pizza joint: The Minute Man. It had really good pizza and exceptional hot chocolate cake with ice cream. They left us for the final time… we think, went to bed, awaiting our big journey the next day.
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 21, 2010
from
Uyuni
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
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Pass the salt please.
Uyuni
,
Bolivia
Wed 15th-Fri 17th Dec
Wednesday
We woke early to pack bags and went to the same restaurant as the night before as the girls said they had a great buffet breakfast. Which they did. I filled up on scrambled eggs and cereal with yoghurt, pancakes and tea. Pete had left over pizza from dinner. We arrived at our tour company to meet the fresh faces that would become our companions for the next three days. After the fog of stuttered spanglish had cleared we found their names were: Jordi and Gemma, a couple form Spain, and Aleksandra and Maria from Poland. Lucky for us they all spoke good english and fortunately ended up being useful translators. Our guide, Waldo, could speak english, but wasn’t very good at it, we could understand the others far better.
We started off our journey with a trip to the Train Cemetery in Uyuni. No surprises here, only a wide open space where all the old steam trains were left to rust. The locals have stripped the trains of their value, now they are ‘protected’ so that all the gringos can come from miles to get their photos jumping over them. We were expecting a few more trains; a bunch of old trains in the middle of the desert wasn’t that exiting, and was off the beaten track.
Our next stop was a small town where they cleaned and refined salt and was also a bano (toilet) stop. Lucky for me there were more markets where I was able to buy a floppy hat! The last one was not from the floppy family and got itself broke.
We drove for a bit and ended up at Salar de Uyuni: the Salt Flats. Situated 3653 meters above sea level and is 12000 square meters in size, it is a massive, bright, white spectacle. There are many resorts situated on the outskirts of the flats, but there were a couple that were actually on the flats that were closed down due to the contamination that they caused to the salt flats. We stopped at one to take photos and met some people who were cycling(!!!)- found out they were on a three year cycling trip. And I thought I was doing okay when I had the gusto to cycle to work!
Interestingly once we were in the middle of this dream-like location, equivalent to a snail’s worst nightmare, we came across a very unassuming volcanic rock island of sorts that was surrounded by a sea of salt. We stopped here for lunch (which was the biggest T-bone steak I had ever seen) and had a walk up and around its summit. It really was amazing to witness a gigantic prickly monolith emerge out of a blinding white haze, and although we thought we were sick of playing eye-spy with the cacti, this desert oasis restored our lost interest we had with the pricks. Easy done considering the local architecture, furniture and even rubbish bins were fashioned from cactus wood. With the free time we were allocated we went back to tourist mode, attempting to pull off the somewhat compulsory ’optical illusion’ photograph which are plastered on every wall, free space in Uyni. Pete really sucked at taking them but the photos he’s in turned out fantastic, due to my technical expertise, you be the judge.
By about four pm we were at our accommodation for the evening, a hotel that was entirely made of salt, apart from the roof that is. It looked like a location you’d expect to see James Bond in the grips of some lame super villain. We had a little problem with the rooms, with the management wanting to pile all of us into the same salty room after we were promised one to ourselves. Thankfully, again, our new found friends spanished our way out of it, saying something to the effect no private rooms we want our money back. On the brightside it was then time to join the six deep line to que for the only hot shower.
After dinner we had a peek at the stars. It was so dark out, save the luna light which by then was almost full. My brain kept tricking me into thinking that we were on a beach for some strange reason- telling me that big empty had to be water!! Maria and I saw a huge shooting star, and the boys went inside, too cold for them. I braved it for a bit eventually giving in to the cold, enjoying the thought of a big salt brick with a mattress laid on top- bed.
Our first day of driving had consisted of 200km, with 110km of those across the salt flats. That equals a lot of driving in next to unbearable conditions, with your knees around your shoulders and your shoulders around someone else’s, dust in your mouth and your tongue being bitten by the bumpy roads.
Thursday
We stirred really early the next morning to watch the sun rise over the salt flats. We bundled into the jeep in the dark drove for fifteen minute to arrive to our own private viewing plane. It was so cold that we all jumped around trying to keep warm. The sun started to rise and place different colours over the sky. It was so peaceful on the salt, again my brain was scrambled by the awesome sight of seeing so much salt that every time I went to say salt, snow or ice would fall out of my mouth instead…figuratively that is.
We went back to the crystal castle hostel to pack our bags and have some breakfast. From there it was more driving through very small towns, another bano stop, and off to a look out to see Ollague, Bolivia’s active volcano. Apparently, it spits out larva that the locals mine and try to sell to gringos, we only saw some smoke rising from it from a safe distance. The stop was amongst some very large boulders and little canyons and there were some small green rocks completely covered in this hard moss- quite pretty.
It was then off to Canapa, our first lagoon of the tour and our first glimpse of the native flamingo!! Maria just about jumped out of the jeep while it was still moving she was so excited. Uniquely, all the lagoons we visited had a lot of different minerals in them, none of which were any good for human consumption, with one lagoon that was so concentrated in sulphur and arsenic that even the animals wisely choose to dip elsewhere. Canapa, in contrast, it was teeming with bird life, with the most common sight being the flamingos chowing down on the plankton in the water. We didn’t realise just how big flamingos actually are, or how god awful they sound when they squawk.
Continuing lagoon hoping we stopped at Hedionda. We had a walk around, took some more photos, Pete peed in the water to then see a sign that said not to (opps). While we were looking around Waldo prepared lunch. The lunches we had on tour were good, either cold meats, salad, pasta or rice. The dinners were average however, and although they did attempt to make us gringos at home by whipping up lasagne, unfortunately it tasted like cooked onion with mouldy cheese. So Carol if you’re reading this, we think we’re in need of your wonderful interpretation of this dish. I have heard so much about it since we excused ourselves from eating its hideous bastard distant relative. Pete said it needs to have a crispy top too xx
Rochelle, Alex, Jordi, Maria, Gemma, Pete
On the road again we another bumpy hour to the majestic ‘Stone Tree’. At Jordi’s recommendation, we did stop for a group photo in the middle of a desert, where we all yelled at the top of lungs, just because we could and because boredom makes you do such things! We had been driving for ages, and getting pretty sleepy and mellow, so it was a great pick me up. We arrived at a bunch of big rocks and yes there was a stone shaped, you guessed it, as a tree….well if you squinted! Erosion had shaped it that way, and it was pretty big. The thing that added to its splendour was that we were out of the jeep actually looking at something besides the featureless dessert. It really was harsh, merciless terrain and I couldn’t help but think of those poor, loco cyclists.
We drove to our last stop for the day- Lagoon Chiarkota. And although Waldo wasn’t a great conversationalist he was great with getting us to locations on time. Importantly so as the lagoon gets a red a tinge to the water in the early afternoon when the sun reflects on it and so many of the tourists we know have missed this spectacle due to tardiness. The minerals in the water are the cause for this colourful chemical reaction, or something technical like that. It was so windy as we were on a hill looking down into the valley that I kept on getting pushed over by the wind. The lagoon is where a national park begins, so there was a look out room with all information on the animals, plants and water in the area.
We paid a small fee to be able to go through the park and went to our next hotel, which was far less interesting then our last. Some of us had a warm beer and we all tried but failed with the bottle of wine we got as part of the tour. Jordi was so disappointed with the taste of the wine, he was looking forward to it all trip making reference to it so often it was almost like it was our seventh passenger. We all opted for an early one as we had just driven 250km in a day and had a big day next. Four am was to be our morning call.
Friday.
In the dark and the cold we all struggled to get to the promising natural hot pool to watch the sun rise. On the way there we stopped at some really big geysers. It was too cold to appreciate them. We all had so many layers on. We would jump out of the jeep, run and take photos, then jump back in the jeep. We were getting pretty good at it by the end!
There are so many tour companies on route, so when you get somewhere there are usually at least a couple of jeeps that have beaten you there and unless you’re on the salt flats you don’t have miles of space to get your own little pocket of special goodness. We managed to beat everyone to the hot springs this morning, so it was lovely to be able to walk around for at least ten minutes in our own company. With the sun starting to come up over the horizon and reflect off the steaming water on the ground it was a stunning sunrise to behold.
Arriving at the hot pool I’m proud to say that I was then the only person in my group to strip down to my bikini and go for a swim at six-freezing-o’clock-in the morning. It was hard, but the water was so good, just as good as a drawn hot bath at home. Once it had warmed me to the core, getting out was relatively painless. Steam was coming off me as I was drying myself. By the time I got out most of the other jeeps had arrived and the little pool was slowly getting full. As I said Waldo had great timing.
After our breakfast of pancakes and caramel sauce (they use it like Nutella) we headed off to Honda, the very last lagoon on the trip. On the way we went past the very smooth and picturesque flats of the Salvidor Dalhi desert. Just as the name suggests, it looked very much like it was missing a couple of melting clocks and strange surreal lobster telephones. Photos could not do it justice at all not even illusionary ones.
Lagoon Honda normal gives off a bright blue colour, but it didn’t that day. Apparently it has something to do with the toxicity of the minerals, the depth of water and the velocity of the wind. When the wind hit’s the water at a certain speed it then stirs the minerals bringing out its colour. We still had a gork and got our last group photo in. Sorry to say that it was a pretty boring finale. For standing on a gigantic mound of volcanic rock peering into a age old valley is was bit of an anticlimax due to the promise of something even more spectacular.
Bolivian immigration
Border crossing
Waldo and the group then took Pete and I too the border of Bolivia/Chile. We were hopping on a bus to take us onward and the guys were heading back to Uyuni- they had to travel 500km back come full circle then had be endure a further seven hours on a train ride into Argentina! We said our goodbyes and Pete and I played the waiting game. This border control building strangely had no seats, no inside seating, and no toilet!! No basic of the basics. More jeeps showed up and we all waited and waited and peed behind an old abandoned bus and finally our bus came to take us over to Chile and San Pedro de Atacama. We said goodbye to chilly Bolivia and Hello to sunny Chile!!
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 24, 2010
from
Uyuni
,
Bolivia
from the travel blog:
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Welcome to Chile!
San Pedro de Atacama
,
Chile
Sat 18th and Sun 19th Dec
After reliving myself behind a burnt-out shell that once was a gringo tour bus, we happily left possibly the worst border-control site in South America. It didn’t just border Bolivia, it bordered on shithouse, even though it didn’t have one! Our escape, thankfully, was not to be in the confines of a 4WD but a familiar looking bus which gave hope to our arses and made us think of the supposed civilisation Chile had on offer. We filled in or immigration forms for Chile with some concern due to some of our dubious cargo, beaded bracelets, Incan voodoo recipes and the like. We got to chatting to a Spanish girl and a couple of Auzzies along the way, and before we knew it we back on smooth modern roads then to quickly arrive in San Pedro.
In contrast to Bolivia, security in Chile much tighter. We were expecting this from the horror stories told over end-of-the-day drinks on tour. Tales of urine testing and cavity searches, bags being torn apart and gringos detained. Much to our relief, quite like North America, the only discomfort was to wait in line to have our passports stamps, our bags scanned- politely by hand (It’s the personal touches that make the difference) and were on our way.
We went around to a few different hostels before we decided on one. We had just stepped onto Chilean soil and we felt a little ripped-off as we were to being billed at $2200 a nite! Okay, we were a little unsure sure how the pricing worked. All we knew was 20,000 pesos sounded like a fuck load, but after a bit of research it is only $42 Australian. Once settled in and after a shower and shave of the legs, we were off to eat and to change money.
San Pedro is a beautiful little place. It is still located in the dessert so water is scarce and the ground is bone dry, but the local fauna seems okay with its surroundings with trees and grass and greenery most areas. It looked very different to anything we had seen in Bolivia. In fact, I think it was probably more the people than the plant life that seemed different to us. Not only were there more ’holiday makers’ about, as opposed to ’backpackers’, but there was a definite, dare we say, sense of style amongst the denizens. San Pedro had a lot of boutique shops, not little road side tables with cheap hand-made wares. There was also a lot of hand made specialty goods. Gorgeous original prints, shirts and jewellery from crafted from various metals. I could’ve spent large there! Okay I did buy myself a Christmas present which I love immensely.
San Pedro is also known for its star-gazing tours that Mel and Andrea had recommended. We went and booked for that evening, getting in just in time as after that evening they were closed for five days due to the full moon. We paid, got our tickets, and agreed to be there at 8.50pm…
For lunch Pete (the gringo) got the biggest burger ever and the bread was soft for once! Another marvellous gift Chile can offer. We had been missing fresh bread that didn’t feel like it was three days old. Pete thinks this was the first miracle caused by the second coming of Saint Peter to San Pedro. Dinner was the real divinity though. We went to a restaurant that served well Chilean food, but surprisingly tasted European. Pete had chicken stuffed with goats cheese with a corn sauce and fried potato. I had pork that was cooked to perfection with a mash of something, roasted red capsicum and the juices of the pork drizzled over. I even got to have wine which had been a while. The flavours were amazing, the food was actually hot, something that didn’t happen all the time in Bolivia.
Excitedly we finished our meals with the anticipation to go off to our pre-arranged star-gazing tour. We got to the shop and strangely it appeared to be locked up for the night, with a sign on the door stating it would be open again in five days time after the full moon had passed. In truth we were a couple of minutes late, but it wasn’t yet nine o’clock, and we were left scratching our heads. ‘Maybe waiting in the wings they will sweep passed in a jeep’ we thought? As we were standing there utterly perplexed, shop- keepers begin to tell us in educated tones that the company were indeed closed for the evening. Even a restaurant worker who was in the street giving out business cards came to us saying that the company would do another tour later if we wanted to wait two hours- we had missed the first. We checked our watches again telling him our story, explaining to him that they simply couldn’t have left without us-surly it had only gone nine. The punch line came like a small Peruvian pickpocket that had just nabbed $120 U.S when he man looked at his mobile and said casually-’Actually, it’s ten pm, Chile is an hour ahead of Bolivia'. Needless to say we were pissed off. ‘Where’s fucking Waldo’, we thought, and why didn’t the man who was so concerned with time mention that we needed to put our watches forward on hour? We had completely missed the star-gazing tour! We stood there a bit flabbergasted, didn’t really know what to do. Of course I had a rant and rave and we went back to the hostel. Things weren’t looking up. Not the perfect ending to a wonderful day, but at least we changed our watches just in time to avoid another potential disaster, missing buses came to mind.
On Sunday we went for a walk around the town. It was like an oasis in the middle of the desert. When we got to the edge of the town, after walking past green fields, rows of olive trees and houses, it was just dry mountains, rocks and dust. Again it was a pretty laid back day and we were feeling like it was a real holiday- sun, wine, afternoon naps and oh the food!
Monday afternoon we were booked in for a mammoth bus ride. We were going to La Serena which is the second biggest city in Chile; a city located on the coast sixteen hours from San Pedro. We organised ourselves in the morning, scraped around for any books in English for Pete so he wouldn’t get bored. He only found Dan Brown. He had to buy it too, not exchange. We stocked up on the water and snacks and made sure we were dressed for any kind of heat or lack thereof on the bus. We hopped on the bus at 2.30pm, knowing we wouldn’t be free till 6.30am the next morning. We said goodbye to San Pedro, our beautiful desert oasis, peped and preped for the next leg of our trip!
written by
Pete+Rochelle
on December 25, 2010
from
San Pedro de Atacama
,
Chile
from the travel blog:
Round the world!!!
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