Paris France, Madrid Spain, and Potosi Bolvia. Wait! What? Potosi is an old mining town that used to have a booming population thanks to the rich silver in the surrounding mountain. The population dropped when the silver was overmined. Today the minerals mined there are zinc, tin, lead, and silver brought from deep within the earth. And deep with the earth was where we planned on going.
Once again Jenna and I were part of an international group -Germany, Holland, Canada, Columbia, Chile, and Mexico. Our tour began at the miners market where we were informed that "today is a special day because it's Friday." Friday is payday and therefore the day that all of the miners buy coco leaves (for chewing), cigarettes, 98% alchohol for drinking, and dynamite all for their eight to ten hour day in the mines. I am constantly reminded that I am in South America where safety is never a concern.
Our group geared up in our miners suits, rubber boots, hard hats, and headlamps with battery pack. We climed down broken ladders and shimmied down small shafts with our treasures from the market as offerings to the miners. Our decending adventure took us 110 meters (360 feet) deep into the mountain where some of us (Jenna) helped the miners and gave them our offerings.
Is that dynamite I hear? Right. Can we go back up now?
Once back above ground we played with our own dynamite. Our guide lit the bomb, passed it around like a hot potato to the eager boys in our group dying (no pun intended) for photos, and at the last minute ran it to the edge of the cliff for us all to witness the big explosion.
After that grand finale Jenna and I had lunch at a great restaurant, San Martin. We spent the rest of the afternoon strolling around town all the way back to the bus station. Next stop, La Paz!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Salar
Jenna and I arrived in Uyuni, Bolivia on Monday evening with time to find a hostel and book an adventure through south Bolivia. We were sent to see Jehnel, a kind Boliviana, from the company Incahuasi. For $90 USD we were confirmed a three day two night trip including lodging and all meals. Bolivia IS cheap!!
The trip began with an introduction to our adventure companions Vickie and Joris from Belgum. The four of us piled into the Lexus SUV with Roberto, our driver, and Maga, our cook. The first day we visited a railroad graveyard and then drove through the desert to the Salar. We hiked to the top of La Isla Pescada and then had a delicious lunch. After lunch we spent hours taking fun, though sometimes inappropriate, photos of each other in the vast white salt plains. The first night we stayed in a beautiful salt hotel and continued to enjoy the company of Vickie and Joris.
The second day we visited several lagunas with pink flamingos and saw beautiful volcanos and rock formations. Then came the days great event.... a rock in the radiator!! For an hour and a half we hung out in the middle of the desert with half the engine of our coche lying in the sand. Fortunately all it took was five stoped coches - with all of their tourists watching -, donated water, and some chewed chicle to fix the radiator. Unfortunately the rum was packed too deep on our roof top rack for us to fully enjoy the repairs.
That evening an international group of new friends, Brazil, Canada, France, and of course our Belgums, gathered around and taught each other card games. We had located bottle of cheap rum.
Our final day began with a sunrise trip to the geysers and then an early morning soak in the hot springs by Laguna Verde. After breakfast we drove our new favorite couple to the frontera de Chile where they were off to find a new bottle of rum and mischief to spread. The drive back to Uyuni took the remainder of the day and once there we borded our next bus to Potosi. Four days in Bolivia and I was still hoping to see a paved road!!
The trip began with an introduction to our adventure companions Vickie and Joris from Belgum. The four of us piled into the Lexus SUV with Roberto, our driver, and Maga, our cook. The first day we visited a railroad graveyard and then drove through the desert to the Salar. We hiked to the top of La Isla Pescada and then had a delicious lunch. After lunch we spent hours taking fun, though sometimes inappropriate, photos of each other in the vast white salt plains. The first night we stayed in a beautiful salt hotel and continued to enjoy the company of Vickie and Joris.
The second day we visited several lagunas with pink flamingos and saw beautiful volcanos and rock formations. Then came the days great event.... a rock in the radiator!! For an hour and a half we hung out in the middle of the desert with half the engine of our coche lying in the sand. Fortunately all it took was five stoped coches - with all of their tourists watching -, donated water, and some chewed chicle to fix the radiator. Unfortunately the rum was packed too deep on our roof top rack for us to fully enjoy the repairs.
That evening an international group of new friends, Brazil, Canada, France, and of course our Belgums, gathered around and taught each other card games. We had located bottle of cheap rum.
Our final day began with a sunrise trip to the geysers and then an early morning soak in the hot springs by Laguna Verde. After breakfast we drove our new favorite couple to the frontera de Chile where they were off to find a new bottle of rum and mischief to spread. The drive back to Uyuni took the remainder of the day and once there we borded our next bus to Potosi. Four days in Bolivia and I was still hoping to see a paved road!!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Many Ways to Say "I Love You" in Spanish
1. Cat calls and Kissy Faces
2. "¡Que rica!"
3. "¡Deliciosa!" (times one million)
4. "¡Que perfeccion de belleza!"
5. Double thumbs up. This one was by far my favorite because of it's resemblance to The Fonz.
6. "Hola Barbie. ¡Wow!" Obviously directed to the blonde at my side.
7. "¡Maravillosa!"
8. "Es un crimen... Oh my God!" Classic praise from a homeless man with a black eye.
9. "¡Es todo!"
10. A group of 16 year old boys at the bus stop thrusting their hips at us as they scream "Jes! Jes! Jes!"2. "¡Que rica!"
3. "¡Deliciosa!" (times one million)
4. "¡Que perfeccion de belleza!"
5. Double thumbs up. This one was by far my favorite because of it's resemblance to The Fonz.
6. "Hola Barbie. ¡Wow!" Obviously directed to the blonde at my side.
7. "¡Maravillosa!"
8. "Es un crimen... Oh my God!" Classic praise from a homeless man with a black eye.
9. "¡Es todo!"
11. "Hermosas se ven, bombones!" Yeah, I've never been called a bon bon before.
12. If you don't speak our language, cleary you can compliment us by hissing like a snake at us.13. If hissing dosen't work, then just bark.
14. You can serinade us on the street. I'm not sure what exactly you're singing, but the cackling after you were done kind of ruined the romance of the song.
14. You can serinade us on the street. I'm not sure what exactly you're singing, but the cackling after you were done kind of ruined the romance of the song.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Day one in Bolivia.....
Do we laugh or do we cry? Let me start this story at 10 PM last Sunday night.
We were in the front seats, second level of the bus again. We had been warned that crossing the border to Bolivia was a nightmare, and that the buses in Bolivia were not as nice as we were used to. However, the feeling that things were about to get strange did not manifest until I noticed the windshield of our bus was shattered. But Jenna told me not to worry because it had packing tape over it.
I had a restless sleep and woke up at 5 AM in the border town of Quiaca, Argentina. There are no bus companies that will take you across the border from Argentina to Villazón, Bolivia. So you have to walk from the bus station in Argentina to immigration. However if you are Boliviano you can just walk right on through the guarded gates past armed men and mosey on home. Immigration, schmmigration. If you're foreign you stand in a long and chaotic line to crowd into a tiny room (15' x 15') and fight your way to one of the two windows for a passport stamp. If you are American you have to fill out paperwork for a visa and pay $135, "We ONLY accept US dollars". Because we are two months into our trip and have no USD, we had to make our first crossing into Bolivia to go to the cambio exchange and then return to immigration. Without a passport stamp. We cut the line to return to the window with our money and paperwork. "Do you have a photo?" Well no, you didn't mention that. Back across the border (still not legal), make a photocopy, cut the line back to the window. "Now fill out this blue paper." As our new British friends say... for fuck's sake!! This is why it takes people five hours and a large headache to get into Bolivia. The third time we cross into Bolivia we are legal, but I'm already worried about exiting customs. I still remained optomistic that the stories about the buses are exaggerated.
Our bus ticket from the border to Uyuni cost $17 USD. We boarded the bus fourty-five minutes late. It is not a nice one, but we're not being princesses. We go one hundred feet and stop. Ten minutes later we have to switch buses. There are thirty five seats (I counted) on the bus and they let an extra twelve people on. Just a short time into the drive on a dirt road the seven year old sitting in the isle next to me is asleep with his head in my lap. Finally we drop the locals at a pueblo in the middle of the desert and everyone has a seat with the exception of the Argintine kid who has to remain in the isle and decided to just lie down. The stories are all coming true.
At our first stop we were allowed fifteen minutes to eat and use the baño. As Jenna and I are standing there eating our empanadas and helado we see two Bolivianos standing with tools at their feet staring at a flat tire. We also notice the hood to the bus is open. Uh-oh. An hour later the hood is down and our tire is changed. The driver is obviously in a hurry to get back on the road because he jumps on the bus and starts backing up before everyone is aboard. This includes my friend Jenna who has just gone to get a Coke and is no where in sight. Her biggest fear on this trip has been to miss the bus and be left behind. As I frantically fight my way to the front of the bus to scream at the driver "PARE! PARE!" here comes Jenna running around the corner, Coke in hand, the last person making a crazy leap for the door of the bus as it is pulling off. Looks like people were not lying about the bus leaving people behind either.
The bus stopped three times on the dirt road we were traveling through the desert. Each time the fourteen year old kid sitting up front with the driver brought out tools and tinkered with God only knows what. We finally made it to Uyuni together, tired, and with complete confidence that we were in a third world! We decided that was worth a laugh.
We were in the front seats, second level of the bus again. We had been warned that crossing the border to Bolivia was a nightmare, and that the buses in Bolivia were not as nice as we were used to. However, the feeling that things were about to get strange did not manifest until I noticed the windshield of our bus was shattered. But Jenna told me not to worry because it had packing tape over it.
I had a restless sleep and woke up at 5 AM in the border town of Quiaca, Argentina. There are no bus companies that will take you across the border from Argentina to Villazón, Bolivia. So you have to walk from the bus station in Argentina to immigration. However if you are Boliviano you can just walk right on through the guarded gates past armed men and mosey on home. Immigration, schmmigration. If you're foreign you stand in a long and chaotic line to crowd into a tiny room (15' x 15') and fight your way to one of the two windows for a passport stamp. If you are American you have to fill out paperwork for a visa and pay $135, "We ONLY accept US dollars". Because we are two months into our trip and have no USD, we had to make our first crossing into Bolivia to go to the cambio exchange and then return to immigration. Without a passport stamp. We cut the line to return to the window with our money and paperwork. "Do you have a photo?" Well no, you didn't mention that. Back across the border (still not legal), make a photocopy, cut the line back to the window. "Now fill out this blue paper." As our new British friends say... for fuck's sake!! This is why it takes people five hours and a large headache to get into Bolivia. The third time we cross into Bolivia we are legal, but I'm already worried about exiting customs. I still remained optomistic that the stories about the buses are exaggerated.
Our bus ticket from the border to Uyuni cost $17 USD. We boarded the bus fourty-five minutes late. It is not a nice one, but we're not being princesses. We go one hundred feet and stop. Ten minutes later we have to switch buses. There are thirty five seats (I counted) on the bus and they let an extra twelve people on. Just a short time into the drive on a dirt road the seven year old sitting in the isle next to me is asleep with his head in my lap. Finally we drop the locals at a pueblo in the middle of the desert and everyone has a seat with the exception of the Argintine kid who has to remain in the isle and decided to just lie down. The stories are all coming true.
At our first stop we were allowed fifteen minutes to eat and use the baño. As Jenna and I are standing there eating our empanadas and helado we see two Bolivianos standing with tools at their feet staring at a flat tire. We also notice the hood to the bus is open. Uh-oh. An hour later the hood is down and our tire is changed. The driver is obviously in a hurry to get back on the road because he jumps on the bus and starts backing up before everyone is aboard. This includes my friend Jenna who has just gone to get a Coke and is no where in sight. Her biggest fear on this trip has been to miss the bus and be left behind. As I frantically fight my way to the front of the bus to scream at the driver "PARE! PARE!" here comes Jenna running around the corner, Coke in hand, the last person making a crazy leap for the door of the bus as it is pulling off. Looks like people were not lying about the bus leaving people behind either.
The bus stopped three times on the dirt road we were traveling through the desert. Each time the fourteen year old kid sitting up front with the driver brought out tools and tinkered with God only knows what. We finally made it to Uyuni together, tired, and with complete confidence that we were in a third world! We decided that was worth a laugh.
Salta Linda
We had 36 hours in Salta, Argentina. It was our gateway to Bolivia and we thought that there wasn't much to see there. As my dad would say, there we go thinking again.
In our short time there we found out that Salta is surrounded by colored mountains, gorges, vineyards, and salt flats. There wasn't enough time to see it all (is there ever?) so we booked a twelve hour tour with Maxi, the cutest tour guide ever. He took us through the colored mountains and explained the geology of the landscape. We toured a bodega and then had lunch in the park in Cafayate. On the way back to Salta we drove around Lago Embalse Cabra Corral.
We had to run to catch our 10 pm bus to the Bolivan border. It's probably better that we didn't have time to concern ourselves with the stories we had heard about crossing the border and transportation in our next host country. Otherwise we may have decided to stay in Argentina!
In our short time there we found out that Salta is surrounded by colored mountains, gorges, vineyards, and salt flats. There wasn't enough time to see it all (is there ever?) so we booked a twelve hour tour with Maxi, the cutest tour guide ever. He took us through the colored mountains and explained the geology of the landscape. We toured a bodega and then had lunch in the park in Cafayate. On the way back to Salta we drove around Lago Embalse Cabra Corral.
We had to run to catch our 10 pm bus to the Bolivan border. It's probably better that we didn't have time to concern ourselves with the stories we had heard about crossing the border and transportation in our next host country. Otherwise we may have decided to stay in Argentina!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Lingering in Lagoa
Not only were we on the WORST bus company possible, but I was positive I had a terrible case of strep throat. Our plan for a trip to paradise felt, upon arrival, more like a fourteen hour ride to hell. My first day in Florianopolis Brazil was spent in bed at the hostel. Thank goodness Jenna was able to get antibiotics from the farmacia for me.
Our plan was to stay in Floripa for five days to enjoy the beautiful beaches of the island. After my day of recovery, we had two days of rain that we spent shopping, exploring the town of Lagoa, and meeting wonderful people at our hostel. The Full House Hostel is Israeli owned and because I was in Brazil, I quickly realized that hebrew and portuguese were going to dominate my language lessons for the week. Shalom! Oi! And it was fascinating to watch Jenna speak spanish to the locals who replied in portuguese. Where am I?
We spent a night out dancing in Lagoa with seven of our new friends from the hostel. And to our surprise we ran into many more people we had met elsewhere weeks before! Saturday we went to a pool party where we saw even more people we knew from our journey. We all lounged by the pool and danced at the pavillion. It was then that it became clear to me that we were in a circuit of people traveling this continent. We are the "class" of 2010!
The two days of sunshine were spent on the beach. This was when we decided that we could spare two more days in Floripa. We also had plenty of deliberation about how to get to Bolivia, our next stop, from the coast of Brazil. Everyone we asked advice from shook their heads, called us crazy, and told us to book a flight. This was a fine idea except that we didn't want to spare the cash it would take for a plane ticket. We finally decided the best route would be through Salta, Argentina via Foz de Iguazu. It felt like backtracking, but we were told there was no other way. And then we got to the bus station. By chance we spotted a direct bus to Salta!! And at the counter were some Argentine freinds we had met at the beach. With a cooler in tow, and a plan to fill it with beer and shrimp, they invited us to stay at their beach apartment a few extra days. Ah, what the heck? Two more days in paradise....
The Argentines were wonderful! We spent the first night cooking the shrimp together and drinking beer while they played guitar and sang classic Argentine songs. In a land of portuguese I finally had the chance to be immersed in spanish again. More sing alongs the next night and then vamos a bailar!!
Saying goodbye to Floripa just kept getting harder. But Thursday we decided not to say goodbye to the beautiful island and our fantastic friends. Instead we made a promise of hasta luego!
Our plan was to stay in Floripa for five days to enjoy the beautiful beaches of the island. After my day of recovery, we had two days of rain that we spent shopping, exploring the town of Lagoa, and meeting wonderful people at our hostel. The Full House Hostel is Israeli owned and because I was in Brazil, I quickly realized that hebrew and portuguese were going to dominate my language lessons for the week. Shalom! Oi! And it was fascinating to watch Jenna speak spanish to the locals who replied in portuguese. Where am I?
We spent a night out dancing in Lagoa with seven of our new friends from the hostel. And to our surprise we ran into many more people we had met elsewhere weeks before! Saturday we went to a pool party where we saw even more people we knew from our journey. We all lounged by the pool and danced at the pavillion. It was then that it became clear to me that we were in a circuit of people traveling this continent. We are the "class" of 2010!
The two days of sunshine were spent on the beach. This was when we decided that we could spare two more days in Floripa. We also had plenty of deliberation about how to get to Bolivia, our next stop, from the coast of Brazil. Everyone we asked advice from shook their heads, called us crazy, and told us to book a flight. This was a fine idea except that we didn't want to spare the cash it would take for a plane ticket. We finally decided the best route would be through Salta, Argentina via Foz de Iguazu. It felt like backtracking, but we were told there was no other way. And then we got to the bus station. By chance we spotted a direct bus to Salta!! And at the counter were some Argentine freinds we had met at the beach. With a cooler in tow, and a plan to fill it with beer and shrimp, they invited us to stay at their beach apartment a few extra days. Ah, what the heck? Two more days in paradise....
The Argentines were wonderful! We spent the first night cooking the shrimp together and drinking beer while they played guitar and sang classic Argentine songs. In a land of portuguese I finally had the chance to be immersed in spanish again. More sing alongs the next night and then vamos a bailar!!
Saying goodbye to Floripa just kept getting harder. But Thursday we decided not to say goodbye to the beautiful island and our fantastic friends. Instead we made a promise of hasta luego!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Journal entry....
In addition to this blog, I have been keeping a journal. My journal is about the thoughts and ideas that my travels inspire. I have not necessarily planned on sharing them with anyone, but I wrote one the other day that I realized I wanted to share. I hope you enjoy....
January 6, 2010 "Moment"
So often I find myself anticipating what is to come. I have stopped and looked around lately and realize this is a mistake that so many of us make. I am now, moving forward in life, trying to give pause to the exact moment I am in. Too many times I have wasted a moment waiting for the next so that I didn't truly know the beauty surrounding me. This is such a hard habit to break. But here I am on a beach in Florianopolis Brazil and I am taking in all the beauty surrounding me.
e~
January 6, 2010 "Moment"
So often I find myself anticipating what is to come. I have stopped and looked around lately and realize this is a mistake that so many of us make. I am now, moving forward in life, trying to give pause to the exact moment I am in. Too many times I have wasted a moment waiting for the next so that I didn't truly know the beauty surrounding me. This is such a hard habit to break. But here I am on a beach in Florianopolis Brazil and I am taking in all the beauty surrounding me.
e~
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