Heaven crumbled

I spent my first day in Tupiza, mostly online, because of the selling process. Then I met the potential buyer from La Paz, who had been all confused about what bike he was
going to see and to what price. He tried to get me to sell for 3100usd, but I said no. I went out for pizza with a big israeli group. They had to remind themselves often, but they
did put in an effort to stop speaking hebrew. Pizza in Tupiza is really good.
The next morning, I went to visit my danish friend, Anne Sofie, who had been sick for a week in Sucre. Unfortunately, she was leaving later on. Her hostel, San Refugio, is where I moved later on, as it costs 35 bolivianos, with a kitchen and pool access to the Mitru pool. I mostly did chores like bike maintenance with a mechanic who had the same bike, made a copy of my key, uploaded photos, arranged horseback riding, hung out with an israeli guy that I let try my bike for a bit. We watched the sunset with cookies and milk, then a bbc documentary about life and animals. How a octopus mother starves herself for her children to be safe in their eggs, really fascinates me.

I did the horseback riding through the same hostel, Valle Hermosa, where I was staying at because it was the hostel of my nice car company to Tupiza. I paid 200 bolivianos for 9 hours, but I got a horse that I didn`t like at first, that didn`t care for me. - Such a shame! The first part is very slow trotting in strong sun, yet the rain-weathered, red rock formations and caves are cool. He dropped us off to go exploring in the caverns, which was a treat for climbing enthusiasts. - just me, this time.
As my group was just a french couple(sorry, but french people are the least friendly people I meet. Most don`t even Try to speak to me), it was nice when we reached a river and a lovely resting place where other groups also were resting. We continued on with a few of them, and it was much more fun from then on! We were river crossing and galopping a lot. The sun wasn`t frying and the landscape was great. My horse turned out to have quite the personality. He would always want to be first, and pass by people on the right side, without regard for the spikey bushes I had to fight my way through. He was growing on me, though.
The riding seriously hurts your butt, so be warned. But do it!
Later, I went for a swim and some gnocchi with a nice chinese guy I met while horseback riding. Apparently there aren`t a lot of chinese backpackers, which makes him
kind of famous. Funny.

I think one of the main things that separate a tourist from a traveller is that the traveller goes to bed exhausted, while the tourist has every comfort perfectly planned. A traveller travels for too much time to be able to or desire it. And there also develops a lot of duties and tasks that comes along with it, especially with riding, though.

I didn`t stress this morning. It was a beautiful day and I was riding mostly on pavement. I was going to be in Argentina soon and eat steak in Tilcara, drink mate, eat too much dulce de leche, learn a new culture and be... happy. I got caught by surprise when they told me I needed the cedula to be in my name, and that I couldn`t enter Argentina, couldn`t sell my bike with papers, couldn`t do anything. They told me that I might get more than 1000usd for it, but not in this town. I was devastated, and it was nice that Sam was around for support. He was going out of his way to try and help and I thank you so much for that! In the end I had to stamp myself back into Bolivia, buy a ticket to Tijara, where you could sell a bike without a plate for much more, and find somewhere to put my luggage and the bike. I wasn`t up for riding the offroad to Tijara. I found a nice hotel with an old, sympathetic man that let me leave my things there. I then went to the internet cafe to brainstorm what I could do with Victor. He encouraged me to try again, and I am tonight. One`s supposed to be able to enter because I don`t need to import it when its argentinian. I`m gonna wait to the other people have gotten off their shifts and make it clear that the bike Is argentinian. Its risky to go late, but I`m not gonna drive far. Tomorrow, the same people might be working again.

Please, please, please!!

Btw: next to the bus station, a woman sells the best empanadas in the world.

Getting out of that village

Salinas – Challapata – Uyuni – Tupiza at last!

It wasn´t a shock that the driver showed up late. We left for Challapata at 6.30, along with a big group of people, and arrived around 12, as the truck broke down for an hour. I wasn´t surprised, but I was happy to be going somewhere. We found a mechanic that fixed it all and gave me a place to crash, after I had hung out with him and his retired friends, for a few hours, as I didn´t find a car going until the morning. I sent my heaviest bag with the bus to Atocha, and left at 5.30 am. It was dark and lightning was up ahead, yet the locals were certain that it wouldn´t be a problem. It only rained for a little bit.








I figured out why I had ended up on a side-road: the tour van driver had brought me to another road just for us to cross the road. I didn’t see the road going left, back to the main road, and when I met the guys going to Uyuni, I didn´t suspect anything. The main roads going from Challapata to Salinas and from Challapata to Uyuni aren’t that bad in comparison to what I was driving. Still, as all the way to Atacha, there were many areas of sand where I just had to keep balance with my feet. Those roads are really tiring!





I got to the Salar, which is a pool at this time. And with delight, I watched the glassy, turquoise water which a lot of tour vans were bathing in, full of cheering tourists sticking out of the windows. After a celebrational popstickle, and passing through the dry desert town of Uyuni, I continued on to Atacha. I was tired midway. So tired that I was counting the kilometres and dreaming of a coffee. I allowed myself thirty minutes of rest, hanging out with the locals in Atacha, and shipping my bag further on to Tupiza. I wasn´t at goal just yet. The gas station is located in a ridiculous place. You have to drive through a kind of… beach, with little muddy streams to get there, and the guy filling gas sent me further up the streams. I was furious at this point, as he deliberately took a piss, while I was in a hurry to get there before night fall. I found the real road, some stormy clouds ahead and started to question if it was a good idea. I decided to listen to my better judgement, for once, and turned back. But on the way, I met two cars and asked a last time. They were tour operators and said we could ride together. I had a safety net!

The roads weren´t really bad from there. Actually they got quite good and with an improving scenery as I was finally leaving the altiplano! At one point I was driving on the rims of steep mountains, with incredible views and oxygen! The landscape was turning green. Green! I´ve missed it so much… When we reached the valley, I was stunned. It was the most beautiful place I could imagine at that point, lit by a colorful sunset. It wasn´t the worst place for the engine to refuse working. First I figured she was tired, then I thought: air filter.

I love the road mentality in Bolivia. Everyone´s so used to breaking down that everyone stops to help others. I think there must have been six different car drivers surrounding my bike, trying to diagnose it, and I was right. It had gotten dark when we were off, and another car was driving ahead in the colon to show the way. Unfortunately, the dust he left behind made it quite uncomfortable to follow, but I got there, and spoiled myself(paid 60 instead of 30kr) with a fancy hotel. Quite different from the mechanics place, all crammed of dusty clothes and motorcycles. I changed today to the hotel of the guys helping me out last night. I´m trying to find someone to go with me for a two day horseback trip. Today, I´ve had to do some chores, but I´m all shocked right now because two buyers are wanting Tornado.

Yesterday I replied to the two potential buyers, and one of them misunderstood that it was a done deal, and jumped on the bus here. He´ll be arriving in two hours and I´m all shaken up, because I was ready to hit the pavement and explore northern Argentina. I didn´t want to sell yet… Right now, I´m not sure about anything than that my luck has taken a U-turn! I love being here in a big city where incredible landscape is just a few minutes away, and horseback riding costs 32kr pr hour.

Salinas

The place that at first seemed so idyllic has shown its backside, yet I´ve learned a great deal about village agriculture and unfortunate drinking culture. Men drink from 1 am, and unfortunately, so does the mechanic, who in the end, ruined a part of my front break which they don´t have in the village. Couldn´t get him to fix it though. He was out drinking. No one had time to help me fix the kick- stand which suddenly broke, too. A part of me was relieved that I got stuck long enough for that to happen, instead of it happening on the way. Another part was pissed off, having to wait yet another day, and pushing my heavy bike around on the bumpy streets, while wearing all my hot gear because I was supposed to leave for the salt flats that morning. I was fighting for my way out of here, all morning. Seriously fighting, and asking everyone if they knew someone with a truck that could bring me to Oruro or Chatacalla. In the end, I was told that one could hitch hike from the main road, and there I met Grober. This is a little, little town, so everyone knows who he is. That’s comforting, as he loaded my bike onto the truck, and we´re off at four am. He´s bringing me straight to a mechanic, then I can go to Uyuni. Yet this town has turned me into a pessimist, and I´m expecting something to go wrong!







The reason why I´m now a pessimist is how unreliable people are. They really don´t mind making you wait, and often things don’t happen, to Ines´ dismay, as she´s relying on them to do her interviews. Yesterday, I went with her and the hotel owners family to another community, even smaller. We worked on their quinoa farm, which was murdering my back. I have a great respect for what they do. I followed Ines down to the houses for her to do her diet questionaries, before we jogged along towards Salinas. We got tired, started walking, rested, started walking, rested, and time just kept going without the others showing up. What had happened? We didn´t think they could work in the dark, but they did, and finally showed up 2,5hours after they were supposed to. We had been walking in the middle of nowhere, with only starlight, wondering if the car had broken down and how long it would take us to walk the 11kms to the next village.

Quinoa is everything here, which one could tell in the cooking competition, where everyone made quinoa soup and llama fricase. Its just that the people in the community have great areas of land, and are without right to sell it. Its decided that the land stays in the community, even though the kids don´t necessarily want to become farmers. Most of them don´t. Most of them want to get away, just like me and Ines. Maybe her attitude affected me a bit, but I really don´t have time to hang around! I´m going to New York on the 30th of April, and need to sell my bike. I´m all broke, because I needed to buy a brand new ticket, as the payment meant to change my ticket, several months ago, never went through.

She has saved me with a movie and sex and the city episodes, which was a nice break, after finishing all my books, too. I wrote today, instead, and felt at ease after rediscovering who I was again. I think this experience will be one I´ll have to digest, but I won´t forget or completely regret my wrong turn. At least I´m tan, at last!

La Paz - to Uyuni.. No wait.. Salinas?

This was an adventure I really didn´t chase.

I was riding early in the morning. The scenery was quite dull, my hands were chilly and I was thinking about yesterday. After practicing a lot, guitarplaying, and having a delicious sushi meal, Fernando showed up at last. I had a potential buyer, and went to talk with his friend about it. In the end, I said I´d be going to Uyuni, and if this guy would buy my bike for 3500usd, I would return.
I´m online to see if he´s replied, and to buy my ticket to New York, then Norway.
It started to rain on my way to Oruro, and I thought about staying, as I was freezing cold. I changed my mind and clothes, then continued. Was going to go to Challapata and stay there, but the riding improved with the scenery of impressing colours and yellow flower, framed roads. I stopped and talked a bit with a woman sheparding cows, thinking about how different our lives were. Then I was off, and noticed that the place was called Poopo. I realized then that I might not be mature enough for this, after all.
Another woman I talked to, reminded me how they always seem shocked that I´ve come all this way because there are so many dangerous people out there. There seem to be a true fear for the unknown in both cities and towns. I had to say that I had only met good people. Other friends say that they get advices about not going places, and that place will say the exact same about that place.


The roads are dangerous, as they´re not paved and suddely consist of deep sand. Two guys in a truck wanted to ride with me just in case I´d slip, but after they suddenly drove past me in a sandy area, so that I couldn´t see, I decided that going with them would be even more dangerous. I was tired at this time, and really just wanted to get there, safe and sound. I was mostly worried about Tornado. There were two rivers I had to cross, and the first one was just fine: put my legs in the air and made everyone around grin. The second one however, is the main reason why I´d dread the thought of going back there, to La Paz. The beginning of the crossing is like the smaller river; flat and seemingly okay. But you can´t see the bottom, its deeper and suddenly there were bumps and rocks. I thought I was losing Tornado at one point, and it was dreadful...
The two guys caught up with me, and one of them tried to convince me to wait up at the next village. After seing his almost empty whiskey bottle and the druel on his chin, I decided that, no.
Maybe I should have, because I think that was where I took a wrong turn. Somewhere along the road, I did, and went twice as far, to realize after talking to a woman that finally could tell me that "you´re not on the way to Uyuni, but Salinas". Everyone else before that had just answered "I don´t know". It didn´t even occur to me that I wasn´t, as I had followed the main road all the way.
I had no idea where Salinas was, or what. I just followed directions, hoping that they were true. I passed by a massive crater and some of the most amazing landscape I have seen, and I couldn´t bring myself to care. My mind was sick of it all. I had been too stubborn and pushed it too far.
The sun was beginning to go down, and still I was far from anything. I saw a truck and rushed after it. The truck never responded to my honking, that bastard, and instead I had to break for my life as a big ditch suddenly cut off half of the rocky dirtroad. This was Not good timing or the place for a tumble. Both of us made it just fine, but I had had it. The thought of camping out in nowhere, next to my bike that was halfway down a ditch, so that I couldn´t lift it alone, wasn´t really what I needed at that moment.
It didn´t take more than two minutes for two cars to show up and help me out. One of the cars were going to guide me to Salinas. I had been on the right road, but it was nice to be certain. The people helping me, and reaching Salinas, which turned out to be an amazing place, brought me one step away from crying from relief. Never go all that way in one day.
I´m staying up the hill in a pretty hostel with a kitchen, lots of room, a nice staff, beautiful view and a nice Polish girl thats working on her master in nutrition.
Here in Salinas, everyone says hello, and its safe to walk alone at night time. They also say that Uyuni is a shabby tourist town and that you can´t go far into the Salars, anyway. So I guess my wrong turn was a lucky one.






The reason why she´s here is the vegetable they´re growing here, which has become a large export merchandise, and she´s trying to find out how their diet has changed. Unfortunatly for the growth, they´re not able to think ahead, and don´t use crop rotation, so that the crops get worse year by year. She´s also told me about a large amount of unplated trucks that normally pass through the town, from Chile. They just rush past everything, past the police station as well, where the two cops are powerless.



I´ve been sunbathing today, walked a bit around, talked to the polish girl. Its nice to relax now. Here, I feel no rush. To avoid that river, I´ve been recommended to wrap up my engine to protect it from salty water, and cross over to Uyuni, very slowly. Its really a big pool of water, so that no tours actually go to the island, these days. I´m interested to see how the island sustains itself for that long at a time. The information guy said that I could make a deal within the hotels here and there, that if I didn´t arrive on time, they´d send people for me. Should´ve had a phone!

So awesome to go for a run with the polish girl, who´s training for a marathon. It was six kms uphill, to a beautiful sunset, then 6 back down again. I did go a bit too far, but all is good! I saw Chile. It was so nice to see that my body could still get the job done despite all this travelling. Repeating the run tomorrow, after the cooking competition that´s getting the town all excited. I´m helping out a bit.

Walking the Inka trail, to the community Chaunaqua

When I came back to Sucre, I met my danish friend, Anne Sofie, who had started arranging a trek to Chaunaqua and the cráter of Maragua. The number of people wanting to go just kept growing, un til we were ten, and nervous if we`d have room in the trucks going and if we`d find shelter for all of us in that tiny community. I was overall positive, taking it easy after my first experience of being sick, the night before. In the end, people got spooked by tour agencies saying that it was so hard to find the way, and that three girls had gotten lost for three days, a week before. Only me and the danish girl were still set on going, yet we decided to only go to the community.


We got so many different messages about when the transport was going, that we were there at seven o clock, while they didn`t arrive until 9.30. We decided to grab a taxi some of the way, and got off one hour before Chataquila(90bolivianos in total), and started walking, reflecting, chewing coca, taking photos, and just enjoying a good day.

When we reached the top, storm clouds were thundering, but they were meeting a wall of strong wind, so they kept fighting against White clouds and sun.

The white side won, right until we were done exploring the community, and were ready to retire. We stayed in the hospital, with matrasses, blankets, toilets and a kitchen.

The toilets were provided by “Plan fadder”, which was really nice to see!

The older people there only speak qechua, besides a cute old woman running a little shop. Others speak spanish too. We met a nice man riding towards La Paz, that stopped to talk to us for twenty minutes about the village and Bolivia. He was looking at the community with a western view, from having been in the US; to him, it was poor and full of potential for tourism, so he wanted to make a hostel and bring people there to visit the nearby crater, salars and hot springs. Its a beautiful place, and we enjoyed its genuinity and being the only tourists there.
He also talked a lot about drugs, how 15 porcent of Bolivia did drugs, and how he thought chewing coca was also a drug. What surprised me, was that before mid desember, there had been a drought that had killed many of the animals there. Then it started to rain for two months. I guess my timing isn`t that bad after all.
We were laughing at the warnings we got on forehand, as the whole Inka trail is a road where the trucks and buses pass by with ease, and in the morning, when it was raining, we got on that bus for 10 bolivianos.



There was a big party going on in a village right outside of Sucre, that made all the hostels fill up. I had decided to go straight to La Paz instead. I got a bed ticket for 80 bolivianos, but the damn seat wouldn`t stay down, so it wasn`t the most comfortable night in my life. I`m back in the friendly Hostel Cactus, for another night, before going to Uyuni.

Coroico – La Paz - Sucre - Potosi

Fernando gave me quite a shock when he told me that he wished to buy Tornado. We talked a great deal about it, and I was to think about it as I went to Sucre and Potosi for a few days. That way, I could go straight to Uyuni, without a detour. It was also good to ride a bus for a bit, only for the realization that I don`t want to sell him. Talking to Victor about northern Argentina also confirmed this. I grinned by his comment on that I did better on bad roads than on paved, good ones, anyway.
Riding from Coroico to La Paz is beautiful; lots of green, turns and climbing. In the end, though, we were just too heavy to make it all the way up. He knew where to pick me up, so he told the bus driver to take me to the terminal, with all the stuff, where he picked me up after.




We then ate, arranged all the stuff, washed the bike, sunbathed, and went to play beach volleyball in the southern part. There`s a nice park there with an entrance fee of 3bolivianos. In the park, there were a whole bunch of Norwegian volunteers that we played with. It was a bit strange to return to being a gringo in La Paz after many days of no tourists and little towns. I was once again struck by how strange and fascinating La Paz it. It`s never boring to look at.
I also learned about the tsunami that had struck so terribly, and I want to send my best wishes to everyone involved.
The same evening, I got on that thirteen hour bus ride to Sucre, a city with a very good reputation. I like it. I`ve found a lot of nice places to spend my time; a lovely main park, a market with great juices(had 5 and a half glass of three different juices for breakfast with some other gringos, and a very good salteña), a nice tea place to read at night, etc. I`m staying at hostel Amigo, which is strange. They charge you to watch a movie in the tv room, so no one uses it.

I`ve done shopping, fixed my jacket, treated myself(or my hair) at a hairdresser, tried a good mondongo, read, seen the intense movie: black swan, in the cinema, and hung out with people in the hostel.
I found myself mentally tired and bored the second day. At first I tried to fight it, and talked to some others that shared the same problem. Later on, I realized that I was wrong to do so.
When you travel, you don`t allow yourself to be in a bad mood because you feel like you have no right to. You start to take things for granted as you`ve already seen so much, and thats when a lot of people start looking back too much and get homesick. Yet its only natural to have ups and downs, and though you might be down for a reason, sometimes its good to let yourself feel it a bit before you kill it with a change of scenery or activity. Maybe cry to a sad movie and let a lot of pressure go. Very often you also need to exercise or to be productive.
Travelling can be a very superficial experience, where you only search for highs and pleasure. Sometimes what you need is actually pain, to remind you how good life is. Thats one of the good things about some treks and riding. Sometimes you need to take in the unfortunes of the people you see. Still, I don`t go around feeling sorry for everyone. I`m not that big of an idiot. That woman selling gums on the street corner could be the happiest woman I`ve ever seen.
The bad mood passed after watching the sunset from the mirador, overlooking the city and surrounding mountaintops. Later on, I went with an irish woman to see a fountain-light show in the main park, which was peaceful beneath the stars, yet they enjoyed playing everything from japanese, classical and dance music to it.






The next morning, I had some of the crappy breakfast, read in the strong sun and went with a danish friend to rent bicycles. You can`t, without a guide, so I decided to go to Potosi for a daytrip, after all. The bus ride was said to be amazing, and it was! 14 kr for the 3-4 hours by bus and 30-40 by taxi. Definatly recommending the taxi, as its faster and gives you the opportunity of stopping to take photos.
I booked a mine tour through "the real deal" and met some germans who brought me to this really nice hostel: koala den; 35 bolivianos pr night w (free) tv and Great movies, good breakfast, hot showers and free internet. Also very nice people.
The next morning, I did the Potosi mine tour. I wrote a long entry about Potosi and the mines, but its disappeared somehow.
Potosi would`ve been a rich city if they had been able to keep their silver-wealth. Instead, the mines are almost empty and Potosi is poor, without other income than the scarce silver and tourism. They will keep the mines open for as long as they can.
8 million people have died in those mines; many, african slaves. Families have and still work together. Boys from 13 to 65 work there now. Things are different: they chose how much they want to work and earn more than waitresses, f.inst.
There is no bathroom in there, and they never eat in the mines, no matter how many hours they work in that dust. They only chew coca leaves on the job, which is one of the gifts we as tourists bring, as well as dynamite, which you can buy in a normal shop.







Last photo is of the road between Potosi and Sucre. Worth a look.