Falling asleep on the bus departing from the Arg/Bol border, I awoke in Salta, Argentina, which, having come from Bolivia, proved to be a remarkable contrast. The cleanliness and organization of the streets was reminiscent of many of the cities I visited in Europe. The faces of the older people told a story not of poverty, desperation and loss, as in Bolivia, but of a life full of vibrance and plentifulness. One does not need to know the history of these places to understand the readily apparent fact that life for Argentinians is relatively painless when considering the years of suffering endured by their northern neighbors.
I have come to realize that large cities, as comfortable as they may be, all start to resemble one another after a few weeks on the road. True adventure, for me, is most often found on the road less travelled. For this reason, we opted to stay in Salta only one night and rent a car early the following morning. This was undoubtedly one of the best decisions of the entire trip. Joined by Dimi(Greek) and Grace(Canadian), we hit the open road, bound for the vineyard rich region of Cafayate. The 3.5 hour drive was breathtaking, a mix of spectacular sandstone rock formations and lush green hills. More or less, Grand Canyon meets Jurassic Park meets Napa Valley. Upon arrival, we toured a vineyard, went out to dinner, and, naturally, spent the rest of the evening imbibing the local industry. That night we saved money on a hostal and instead chose to sleep in a vineyard underneath thousands of stars. Some experiences in life verge on perfection- this was one of them.
The second day began with a fairly intense hangover, though it wasn´t anything that could not be cured with a good breakfast. We spent the hottest hours of the day relaxing and gathering materials for a picnic, which was thouroughly enjoyed at the bank of a river a couple miles outside of town. We found the tranquility of our lunch locale to be irresistable, and thus opted to hike upstream in search of a good place to camp for the night. I slept about as well as one could expect to on the bare ground, but the calm sounds of the river and the spectacular night sky were pleasant companions to my restlessness.
I can say with certainty that my time in Cafayate will prove to be one of the highlights of the entire trip. Looking back on the experience, it felt more like a movie than reality. It is times such as these that make life such a spectacular gift...
Responses to comments...
Jeremy- Thank you for the kind words old friend. Im really looking forward to spending time with you when I get back. Lets plan some cool CO road trips to go on in the next couple months...
Ryan- Im glad to hear you did well on the CSAPs. Those tests are definitely stupid, I agree, but still a good chance to show off your intelligence! I think there are tons of places perfect for a Ryan/Andy adventure. Did you know that many archaelogists think there are undiscovered Inca Ruins in the Bolivian rainforest? Maybe we could find them; we would be rich and famous and we could save all of the miners in Potosi! What do you think?
Mom- We got some great cowboy pictures that will help you visualize your 6´4 son riding a horse. It was probably about as strange looking as you are imagining, but Ill leave that judgment up to you.
Hilda- Are you glad to have your daughter home safe and in one piece? Im sure she is missing it down here already, but you are probably sleeping much better at night now that she is home :)
Katie- Great to keep in touch with you via Skype. I can t wait to see you and the rest of the family! Looking forward to the move as well!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Cowboy for a day
Early this morning, boarding a 4AM bus destined for the Argentinian border, I bid a fond farewell to the unforgettable country of Bolivia. The experiences I have had in the past three weeks are some that I will forever consider to be among the most exhillarating and rewarding of my entire life. Despite crippling poverty and a history of unstable governmental rule, Bolivia is a country with much to offer. I can say with certainty that, having visited this place, I am now a more fulfilled person with a broadened global perspective.
I only have a few minutes before I must board another bus, but I wanted to take a moment to tell you about my final adventure in this remarkable country. From Potosi, Garreth and I made our way south to the tranquil town of Tupiza. Surrounded on all sides by the spectacular multi-colored hills of the Cordillera de Chicas, Tupiza is the type of dusty town that you would expect to find in an old cowboy film. So, in accordance with the everpresent Wild West theme, G and I opted to get horses and a bottle of whiskey and pretend to be cowboys for the day. We were joined by a young Bolivian guide, a definite necessity in the proper navigation of the complex landscape. For those of you who have been on horse tours in the states, you may have memories of riding a designated path at a snails pace, never quite escaping the scenery of the horse´s butt in front of you. In Bolivia, the land of startingly few rules, regulations, and safety precautions, things operate quite differently. Throughout our 7 hour, 15 mile excursion, we free at any time to belt out a ¨yeehaw!¨ and encourage our steeds to unleash their power in an all out sprint. As a result, the entire lower half of my body is tremendously sore, but I will never forget the thrill that I felt in those moments. One particularly action-packed stretch of the journey called for repeated river crossings, the second of which involved Garreth´s horse losing its footing, nearly drowning, and tossing G into the water. Luckily, I was carrying all of the electronics and both horse and human emerged from the incident unharmed. All in all, this was a truly unique adventure and a wonderful way to say goodbye to a country that has given us everything we could have hoped for and so much more.
I have to catch my bus, but I promise to respond to reader comments the next time I log on. Goodbye for now!
I only have a few minutes before I must board another bus, but I wanted to take a moment to tell you about my final adventure in this remarkable country. From Potosi, Garreth and I made our way south to the tranquil town of Tupiza. Surrounded on all sides by the spectacular multi-colored hills of the Cordillera de Chicas, Tupiza is the type of dusty town that you would expect to find in an old cowboy film. So, in accordance with the everpresent Wild West theme, G and I opted to get horses and a bottle of whiskey and pretend to be cowboys for the day. We were joined by a young Bolivian guide, a definite necessity in the proper navigation of the complex landscape. For those of you who have been on horse tours in the states, you may have memories of riding a designated path at a snails pace, never quite escaping the scenery of the horse´s butt in front of you. In Bolivia, the land of startingly few rules, regulations, and safety precautions, things operate quite differently. Throughout our 7 hour, 15 mile excursion, we free at any time to belt out a ¨yeehaw!¨ and encourage our steeds to unleash their power in an all out sprint. As a result, the entire lower half of my body is tremendously sore, but I will never forget the thrill that I felt in those moments. One particularly action-packed stretch of the journey called for repeated river crossings, the second of which involved Garreth´s horse losing its footing, nearly drowning, and tossing G into the water. Luckily, I was carrying all of the electronics and both horse and human emerged from the incident unharmed. All in all, this was a truly unique adventure and a wonderful way to say goodbye to a country that has given us everything we could have hoped for and so much more.
I have to catch my bus, but I promise to respond to reader comments the next time I log on. Goodbye for now!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Entering the depths of hell
I am writing from Potosi, Bolivia, a city with a tragic past, a shocking present, and an uncertain future. Since the city founding in 1545, life in Potosi has been centered entirely around the Cerro Rico(Rich Mountain) and its seemingly limitless supply of silver and other precious metals. The mountain, visibly decaying from nearly 500 years of explosive mining, has a history that is unsettlingly riddled with cruelty, greed, and death. Having discovered the enormous potential for wealth that lay beneath the Cerro Rico, the Spanish conquistadors enslaved native men to forced them to work in the most hellish conditions imaginable. It is said that around 80% of these men perished in the mines, thus creating an unmet need for labor and a major problem for the greedy Spanish rulers. A solution came in the form of the importation of 30,000 African slaves who, like their indigenous predecessors, were treated more like animals than human beings, commonly working 4 months straight in the mines without seeing the light of day. As hundreds of thousands died, Potosi quickly became the largest and wealthiest city in the world. The streets were pathed in silver, the mountain bathed in blood. The Spanish Empire, thanks largely to the silver mines of the Cerro Rico, aqcuired unprecedented riches that went on to fund the continuation of their violent conquests. By the time the 18th century had come to an end, the silver supply had depleted significantly and the riches that once defined the city of Potosi would soon only exist in the history books. Extraordinary wealth was obtained, but at a tremendous cost. It is estimated that 8 million indegenous people and slaves have perished in the silver mines.
Though precious metal extraction eventually slowed and the Spanish wealth mongers had moved on, mining continued much in the same way and, to this day, continues to be the centerpoint of the local economy. I wish I could report that injustice has been defeated in the mines of the Cerro Rico, but that could not be farther from the truth. Forced labor, in its strictest sense, has come to an end, but the poor people of Potosi find themselves slaves to their dire circumstances. Men, unable to provide for their families, have no choice but to go to work in the mines. Conditions are so harsh that the vast majority die as a result of pulmonary complications before their 40th birthday. The stories of these men, devastating as they may may be, are not the true tragedy of the present day mines. Working along side the 20, 30, and 40 year olds, the walking dead, are hundreds of boys between the ages of 12 and 17. These kids, mostly fatherless, come from the poorest families in Potosi. For further insight into this horrific situation, watch the remarkable film ¨The Devils Miner¨. It will open your eyes to a situation so terrible, one would think it could only be the material of nightmares.
Today I chose to take a guided tour of one of the fully functional mines. Despite my awareness of the Cerro Rico´s bloody history, I did not expect this experience to be particualrly difficult. My idea of ¨tourism¨ has certainly changed since coming to South America, but, before today, I anticipated a certain level of comfort and safety from all travel experiences. Boy was I wrong. I spent the day crouching and crawling my way through the most inhospitable conditions I have ever found myself in. With every breath I inhaled air visibly filled with dust, the same dust that eventually kills the locals after years working in the mine. After two brutal hours underground, I finally emerged, feeling as though I had escaped the depths of hell. And actually, according to the local belief system, describing the mines as hell is not far from the truth. It is commonly believed that God´s influence ceases to exist at the opening of each mine, at which point one has entered the devil´s territory. For this reason, miners make sacrifices to the ¨Tio¨(devil), and ask that he keep them safe and give them luck in their search for metals. Having been in the mines, I can attest that there is no hope down there, only an eerie, empty feeling left behind by years of pain, death and suffering. I am very glad to have had such an eye opening experience, but my heart aches to see the desperate circumstances these people find themselves in.
Responses to comments-
Ryan- Tell your mom that I promise never to get any Spring Break Cancun tattoos. I definitely plan on hanging out with you a lot more, so dont worry, I wont travel my whole life away. Maybe you could join me on an adventure someday! Tell your new crayfish hello and that I hope he lives longer than you expect him to. Tell everyone else in the family hello as well!
Hilda- Thanks for your concern, Im feeling all better. I miss the girls already, did they make it home safely? Cant wait for dinner!
Though precious metal extraction eventually slowed and the Spanish wealth mongers had moved on, mining continued much in the same way and, to this day, continues to be the centerpoint of the local economy. I wish I could report that injustice has been defeated in the mines of the Cerro Rico, but that could not be farther from the truth. Forced labor, in its strictest sense, has come to an end, but the poor people of Potosi find themselves slaves to their dire circumstances. Men, unable to provide for their families, have no choice but to go to work in the mines. Conditions are so harsh that the vast majority die as a result of pulmonary complications before their 40th birthday. The stories of these men, devastating as they may may be, are not the true tragedy of the present day mines. Working along side the 20, 30, and 40 year olds, the walking dead, are hundreds of boys between the ages of 12 and 17. These kids, mostly fatherless, come from the poorest families in Potosi. For further insight into this horrific situation, watch the remarkable film ¨The Devils Miner¨. It will open your eyes to a situation so terrible, one would think it could only be the material of nightmares.
Today I chose to take a guided tour of one of the fully functional mines. Despite my awareness of the Cerro Rico´s bloody history, I did not expect this experience to be particualrly difficult. My idea of ¨tourism¨ has certainly changed since coming to South America, but, before today, I anticipated a certain level of comfort and safety from all travel experiences. Boy was I wrong. I spent the day crouching and crawling my way through the most inhospitable conditions I have ever found myself in. With every breath I inhaled air visibly filled with dust, the same dust that eventually kills the locals after years working in the mine. After two brutal hours underground, I finally emerged, feeling as though I had escaped the depths of hell. And actually, according to the local belief system, describing the mines as hell is not far from the truth. It is commonly believed that God´s influence ceases to exist at the opening of each mine, at which point one has entered the devil´s territory. For this reason, miners make sacrifices to the ¨Tio¨(devil), and ask that he keep them safe and give them luck in their search for metals. Having been in the mines, I can attest that there is no hope down there, only an eerie, empty feeling left behind by years of pain, death and suffering. I am very glad to have had such an eye opening experience, but my heart aches to see the desperate circumstances these people find themselves in.
Responses to comments-
Ryan- Tell your mom that I promise never to get any Spring Break Cancun tattoos. I definitely plan on hanging out with you a lot more, so dont worry, I wont travel my whole life away. Maybe you could join me on an adventure someday! Tell your new crayfish hello and that I hope he lives longer than you expect him to. Tell everyone else in the family hello as well!
Hilda- Thanks for your concern, Im feeling all better. I miss the girls already, did they make it home safely? Cant wait for dinner!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Permanence
Hello there! I am writing from an internet cafe in the town of Oruro, Bolivia. 362 days out of the year Oruro is nothing more than a dusty and povert stricken pit stop on the backpacker´s trail. This weekend, however, this place proudly hosts Carnaval, one of the wildest fiestas known to mankind. Carnaval is, at its core, a parade where people from all corners of the country adorn themselves in colorful costumes and relish in the opportunity to display their local and national pride. In a country where over half of the population lives below the poverty line, this weekend is a representation of hope, comradery, and a chance to prove the relentless nature of the Bolivian spirit. That being said, this is also a chance to drink a whole lot of beer and throw water balloons at whomever you please. I have been sick the last few days, leaving alcohol consumption out the question, but I have thoroughly enjoyed hurling ¨globos de agua¨ at fellow Carnavalers. I realized at one point that I felt just like a kid again, something that seems to happen less and less the further I get into adulthood.
As an American in a shoulder to shoulder sea of South Americans, I have learned a couple things.
1. Globally speaking, I am freakishly tall. At one point I found myself amongst 4000+ people and realized I was the tallest in the entire crowd, towering over the vast majority by at least a head.
2. Because of fact #1, I am a target for theft. Sure enough, I got pickpocketed during my first night here. Luckily, I only lost my drivers license and some money, among a few other wallet related items. It could have been much worse. I took every recommended precaution to avoid this happening, but the pick pockets here are remarkably crafty. LESSON LEARNED.
Overall, despite loss of possessions and a persistent fever, Carnaval has been a very unique and interesting experience. I am very pleased that we rerouted our trip a bit to accomodate being here.
Now, to switch gears completely, I want to tell you about the third souvenier I have acquired in South America. In accordance with a travel tradition I like to maintain with each new country I visit, the first two were futbol jerseys. The third will be with me far longer than any shirt or tangible trinket that I could pick up on the street. It will, in fact, be with me forever. It is not my first tattoo, nor is it likely to be my last, but it is the only one I have that is on a readily visible area of my body. Located on my right forearm I now proudly bear a compass surrounded by the words ¨Explore Dream Discover¨. Gasp! Arent forearm tattoos for thugs, prisoners, and motorcycle gang members? As you know, I am none of those things. For me, having a tattoo for everyone to see serves three purposes. First, I publicly display my deep and passionate love for travel, something that, for me, is the most direct path to happiness, understanding, and fulfillment. Second, I think body art is one of the coolest forms of personal expression available; there is a reason it has been medium for such purposes for thousands of years. Finally, I feel that my new tattoo is a personal endorsement for my generation and the progression towards an era of acceptance. Above all, I feel people have the right to do whatever they please with their bodies and their lives (within proper reason), and should not have to fear reprimand for their decisions. So, for me, this is a little way to announce to the world that I support the right to resist conformity. If I want a tattoo on my forearm, Im going to get it. If you don´t, more power to you my friend. If a gay person wants to marry, who are the rest of us not to allow them that basic human pleasure? Far too often are personal choices met with public objection and resentment. The sooner we all learn to respect each others desires, attitudes, and ideas, the further we will find ourselves from a world filled with war and injustice.
On a side note, I am pleased to say that I am not alone in this decision. Lauren opted to get a beautiful sunflower on her wrist and it looks fantastic. I think she would agree that we both now have permanent souveniers that will forever remind us of a truly remarkable time in our lives.
Tonight, sadly, will be my last with the girls, who have to start making their way back to Lima for their flight home. I have a few more stops in Bolivia, followed by Argentina, then home on March 4th. There are still many adventures that lay ahead... check the blog in a few days for an update! Thanks for reading!
As an American in a shoulder to shoulder sea of South Americans, I have learned a couple things.
1. Globally speaking, I am freakishly tall. At one point I found myself amongst 4000+ people and realized I was the tallest in the entire crowd, towering over the vast majority by at least a head.
2. Because of fact #1, I am a target for theft. Sure enough, I got pickpocketed during my first night here. Luckily, I only lost my drivers license and some money, among a few other wallet related items. It could have been much worse. I took every recommended precaution to avoid this happening, but the pick pockets here are remarkably crafty. LESSON LEARNED.
Overall, despite loss of possessions and a persistent fever, Carnaval has been a very unique and interesting experience. I am very pleased that we rerouted our trip a bit to accomodate being here.
Now, to switch gears completely, I want to tell you about the third souvenier I have acquired in South America. In accordance with a travel tradition I like to maintain with each new country I visit, the first two were futbol jerseys. The third will be with me far longer than any shirt or tangible trinket that I could pick up on the street. It will, in fact, be with me forever. It is not my first tattoo, nor is it likely to be my last, but it is the only one I have that is on a readily visible area of my body. Located on my right forearm I now proudly bear a compass surrounded by the words ¨Explore Dream Discover¨. Gasp! Arent forearm tattoos for thugs, prisoners, and motorcycle gang members? As you know, I am none of those things. For me, having a tattoo for everyone to see serves three purposes. First, I publicly display my deep and passionate love for travel, something that, for me, is the most direct path to happiness, understanding, and fulfillment. Second, I think body art is one of the coolest forms of personal expression available; there is a reason it has been medium for such purposes for thousands of years. Finally, I feel that my new tattoo is a personal endorsement for my generation and the progression towards an era of acceptance. Above all, I feel people have the right to do whatever they please with their bodies and their lives (within proper reason), and should not have to fear reprimand for their decisions. So, for me, this is a little way to announce to the world that I support the right to resist conformity. If I want a tattoo on my forearm, Im going to get it. If you don´t, more power to you my friend. If a gay person wants to marry, who are the rest of us not to allow them that basic human pleasure? Far too often are personal choices met with public objection and resentment. The sooner we all learn to respect each others desires, attitudes, and ideas, the further we will find ourselves from a world filled with war and injustice.
On a side note, I am pleased to say that I am not alone in this decision. Lauren opted to get a beautiful sunflower on her wrist and it looks fantastic. I think she would agree that we both now have permanent souveniers that will forever remind us of a truly remarkable time in our lives.
Tonight, sadly, will be my last with the girls, who have to start making their way back to Lima for their flight home. I have a few more stops in Bolivia, followed by Argentina, then home on March 4th. There are still many adventures that lay ahead... check the blog in a few days for an update! Thanks for reading!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Surving the Death Road and Volcano Country
It feels great to be sitting in front of keyboard right now. Aside from keeping all of you wonderful people updated on the progress of our trip, blogging has also allowed me to appreciate this experience in real time. Writing about the adventure has given me a perspective and understanding that I may have otherwise missed, and for that I am very thankful. Unfortunately, circumstances(lots of inter-city travel, electricity blackouts, etc) in the last few days have made it impossible to spend more than a few minutes on a computer. Naturally, there is much to catch up on, so kuddos to those of you who manage to read the whole thing :)
Ill start where I left off...
We ventured east from the Titicaca beach community of Copacabana destined for Bolivias largest and most modern city. La Paz was a bustling, dirty, yet somehow endearing mess that kept us on our toes at all times. We were warned by books and fellow travellers alike to expect an elevated level of danger compared to previous locations. Thankfully, we emerged unharmed with all possessions in tow. Inner-city La Paz has much to offer, but we found the most exhillarating experience in the region to be a plunge down The Worlds Most Dangerous Road about sn hour out of town. We were picked up early in the morning by two guides and a few fellow thrill seekers, each of us anxious to find out what lay ahead. We left town in the rickety old vans and climbed to about 15,300 feet, the top of La Cumbre Pass and the starting point for our downhill mountain biking journey. The World´s Most Dangerous Road, also known as the Death Road, has earned its nickname a few hundred times over. The road, if you can call it that, is a very rough dirt path about 8 feet across that boasts exposure to waterfalls, wildlife, and sudden death dropoffs from its guardrail free ledges. Before an alternate route was completed in 2006, WMDR was the only overland link between Bolivia´s northern jungle regions and its capital city. Throughout its 80+ years of use as a vehicular transport route, it is said that Death Road claimed an average of 300 lives annually. It is much safer now, as commercial traffic has been banned, but it remains a terrifying mountain bike endeavor nonetheless. We began the 35 mile, 10,000+ foot decent amidst thick cloud cover, which proved to be a bit of a mixed blessing. Sure, I could only see a few feet in front of me, but the thick clouds also kept me from peering to the bottom of the 1000 foot drop that lay menacingly over my left shoulder. Once visibility improved, reality set in and my heart began to race as I plummetted over boulders, under waterfalls, and through mud. Had I fallen to my death, my last views would have been of a remarkably beautiful rainforrest landscape; Im happy to have survived, but there are certainly worse ways to bite the dust. Having reached the bottom, we were greeted by the lead guide, enthusuastically proclaiming ¨you survived the worlds most dangerous road!¨. This was definitely an experience that tested my limits, and one that I will not soon forget.
From La Paz, we made our way via 11 hours of bus and train to to the dusty town of Uyuni. Uyuni is, in all honesty, a major dump, but it serves as the launching point for three day Land Cruiser tours of the strangest and most otherworldy landscape I have ever seen. Day one of our tour, guided by a local named Andres, was to Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt flat in the world. The Salar´s uniqueness and attraction does not come from its massive size, but rather the 4¨ of water that blankets it during the rainy season. The effect of the flood water is such that the ground creates a perfect mirror image of the sky, resulting in a truly hallucinogenic experience for visitors. A picture can explain this effect far better than any description, so definitely take the time to google ¨salar de uyuni in the wet season¨. I had been looking forward to seeing this for months, and it did not disappoint. It truly felt like being on another planet.
During the second day of the tour, we winded our way through Bolivia´s rugged and unforgiving southern desert regions. The surreality continued as we witnessed wild volcanic rock formations, a red lagoon, wild llamas, and endangered flamingos. That night, eager for excercise, myself and two friends went for a self guided hike of the area surrounding our lodging. We unexpectedly stumbled upon a small canyon and, making our way to the bottom, hiked along its bed for about an hour. At one point we found the strewn remains of an alpaca that had clearly been hunted and killed by a fellow canyon animal. I opted to hang on to the skull in order to give the girls a good scare later in the day. Walking the rest of the distance with an alpaca skull was not exactly pleasant, but the scare was tremendously hilarious and we managed to get it on video. Watch for it on Facebook when we get home :)
We woke up around 5am on the third day to watch the sunrise from the top of another active volcano, the surface of which was littered with steaming crevases filled with boiling sulfer water. I was surprised that we were permitted to walk around on such a volatile surface, and pleased when my clumsiness did not cause me to trip and fall into the depths of the earth. Shortly after the volcano, we descended in the Land Cruiser to a natural hot springs on the edge of a lagoon where we bathed and ate a hearty pancake breakfast. The rest of the day was spent in the car making our way back to Uyuni.
That night around 3am we departed on another 11 hour journey to the vibrant city of Cochabamba, my present location. Our three days in Cochabamba are sandwiched by the rough and dirty Uyuni tour and Carnaval in Oruro, which begins tomorrow. For those of you who are not familiar, Carnaval is a party of epic proportions celebrated in various cities throughout South America. I have not doubt that the next three days will be among the wildest of my entire life. I cant wait to tell you all about it! Anyway, we have been focused on only one thing in Cochabamba: relaxation. We are splurging a bit by staying in hotels instead of hostels and eating fancy dinners in a few of the cities finest restaurants. Thanks to Bolivia´s remarkably advantageous traveller economy, living luxuriously is still extremely cheap. This is the calm before the Carnaval storm, and a much needed opportunity to unwind and enjoy hot showers and fantastic food.
Watch for another entry on the 16th or 17th and, as always, thanks for reading!
Responses to comments-
Mom- You will be relieved to know that I just bought a large bottle of sun block. No more sunburns for me!
Lindsey- We are having the time of our lives. I will be sorry to part ways with the girls in a few days, but Im sure you are excited to have them home :)
Hilda- Thanks for keeping up with the blog! Im looking forward to getting together for dinner sometime when I get back
Katie- I miss you guys! Give all of the kids a big hug and kiss for me. I havent been able to get any of my pictures up on facebook, but Im looking forward to giving you a slide show when I get home!
Kyle- thanks for reading buddy. Cant wait til March when I can hang out with you in the Fort.
Barbara- Thanks so much for reading. You are a very special person and one that I am very pleased to share my experiences with. And thanks for the Rick Steves comparison, he is my hero :)
Ryan- Hey buddy, how is school going so far? I think you will be a great history professor, Indiana Jones, or anything else that you put your mind to. I cant wait to see how you decide to use that wonderful brain of yours!
The salt flats were so cool, it is a great spot for you to ride your bike. And yes, I saw HUNDREDS of flamingos .
Thanks again for your comments pal, they make my day.
PS- I DO NOT LOOK DORKY IN A COWBOY HAT :)
Ill start where I left off...
We ventured east from the Titicaca beach community of Copacabana destined for Bolivias largest and most modern city. La Paz was a bustling, dirty, yet somehow endearing mess that kept us on our toes at all times. We were warned by books and fellow travellers alike to expect an elevated level of danger compared to previous locations. Thankfully, we emerged unharmed with all possessions in tow. Inner-city La Paz has much to offer, but we found the most exhillarating experience in the region to be a plunge down The Worlds Most Dangerous Road about sn hour out of town. We were picked up early in the morning by two guides and a few fellow thrill seekers, each of us anxious to find out what lay ahead. We left town in the rickety old vans and climbed to about 15,300 feet, the top of La Cumbre Pass and the starting point for our downhill mountain biking journey. The World´s Most Dangerous Road, also known as the Death Road, has earned its nickname a few hundred times over. The road, if you can call it that, is a very rough dirt path about 8 feet across that boasts exposure to waterfalls, wildlife, and sudden death dropoffs from its guardrail free ledges. Before an alternate route was completed in 2006, WMDR was the only overland link between Bolivia´s northern jungle regions and its capital city. Throughout its 80+ years of use as a vehicular transport route, it is said that Death Road claimed an average of 300 lives annually. It is much safer now, as commercial traffic has been banned, but it remains a terrifying mountain bike endeavor nonetheless. We began the 35 mile, 10,000+ foot decent amidst thick cloud cover, which proved to be a bit of a mixed blessing. Sure, I could only see a few feet in front of me, but the thick clouds also kept me from peering to the bottom of the 1000 foot drop that lay menacingly over my left shoulder. Once visibility improved, reality set in and my heart began to race as I plummetted over boulders, under waterfalls, and through mud. Had I fallen to my death, my last views would have been of a remarkably beautiful rainforrest landscape; Im happy to have survived, but there are certainly worse ways to bite the dust. Having reached the bottom, we were greeted by the lead guide, enthusuastically proclaiming ¨you survived the worlds most dangerous road!¨. This was definitely an experience that tested my limits, and one that I will not soon forget.
From La Paz, we made our way via 11 hours of bus and train to to the dusty town of Uyuni. Uyuni is, in all honesty, a major dump, but it serves as the launching point for three day Land Cruiser tours of the strangest and most otherworldy landscape I have ever seen. Day one of our tour, guided by a local named Andres, was to Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt flat in the world. The Salar´s uniqueness and attraction does not come from its massive size, but rather the 4¨ of water that blankets it during the rainy season. The effect of the flood water is such that the ground creates a perfect mirror image of the sky, resulting in a truly hallucinogenic experience for visitors. A picture can explain this effect far better than any description, so definitely take the time to google ¨salar de uyuni in the wet season¨. I had been looking forward to seeing this for months, and it did not disappoint. It truly felt like being on another planet.
During the second day of the tour, we winded our way through Bolivia´s rugged and unforgiving southern desert regions. The surreality continued as we witnessed wild volcanic rock formations, a red lagoon, wild llamas, and endangered flamingos. That night, eager for excercise, myself and two friends went for a self guided hike of the area surrounding our lodging. We unexpectedly stumbled upon a small canyon and, making our way to the bottom, hiked along its bed for about an hour. At one point we found the strewn remains of an alpaca that had clearly been hunted and killed by a fellow canyon animal. I opted to hang on to the skull in order to give the girls a good scare later in the day. Walking the rest of the distance with an alpaca skull was not exactly pleasant, but the scare was tremendously hilarious and we managed to get it on video. Watch for it on Facebook when we get home :)
We woke up around 5am on the third day to watch the sunrise from the top of another active volcano, the surface of which was littered with steaming crevases filled with boiling sulfer water. I was surprised that we were permitted to walk around on such a volatile surface, and pleased when my clumsiness did not cause me to trip and fall into the depths of the earth. Shortly after the volcano, we descended in the Land Cruiser to a natural hot springs on the edge of a lagoon where we bathed and ate a hearty pancake breakfast. The rest of the day was spent in the car making our way back to Uyuni.
That night around 3am we departed on another 11 hour journey to the vibrant city of Cochabamba, my present location. Our three days in Cochabamba are sandwiched by the rough and dirty Uyuni tour and Carnaval in Oruro, which begins tomorrow. For those of you who are not familiar, Carnaval is a party of epic proportions celebrated in various cities throughout South America. I have not doubt that the next three days will be among the wildest of my entire life. I cant wait to tell you all about it! Anyway, we have been focused on only one thing in Cochabamba: relaxation. We are splurging a bit by staying in hotels instead of hostels and eating fancy dinners in a few of the cities finest restaurants. Thanks to Bolivia´s remarkably advantageous traveller economy, living luxuriously is still extremely cheap. This is the calm before the Carnaval storm, and a much needed opportunity to unwind and enjoy hot showers and fantastic food.
Watch for another entry on the 16th or 17th and, as always, thanks for reading!
Responses to comments-
Mom- You will be relieved to know that I just bought a large bottle of sun block. No more sunburns for me!
Lindsey- We are having the time of our lives. I will be sorry to part ways with the girls in a few days, but Im sure you are excited to have them home :)
Hilda- Thanks for keeping up with the blog! Im looking forward to getting together for dinner sometime when I get back
Katie- I miss you guys! Give all of the kids a big hug and kiss for me. I havent been able to get any of my pictures up on facebook, but Im looking forward to giving you a slide show when I get home!
Kyle- thanks for reading buddy. Cant wait til March when I can hang out with you in the Fort.
Barbara- Thanks so much for reading. You are a very special person and one that I am very pleased to share my experiences with. And thanks for the Rick Steves comparison, he is my hero :)
Ryan- Hey buddy, how is school going so far? I think you will be a great history professor, Indiana Jones, or anything else that you put your mind to. I cant wait to see how you decide to use that wonderful brain of yours!
The salt flats were so cool, it is a great spot for you to ride your bike. And yes, I saw HUNDREDS of flamingos .
Thanks again for your comments pal, they make my day.
PS- I DO NOT LOOK DORKY IN A COWBOY HAT :)
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Hola todos!
Hello there! I was very much looking forward to updating my blog this morning, but it seems it is going to have to wait a couple more days :( We are leaving today, a day earlier than anticipated, for a 3 day tour of the Salar de Uyuni. I will not be able to get online during this time, but I will have much to report when I get back! We are having a wonderful time- full update soon!
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