Bolivia you were difficult to leave. There wasn't much wrong with you and any teeny complaints aren't worth mentioning.
Finishing our time with a local festival in Copacabana made it harder to leave but we couldn't have had a more splendid time. All the colours, the smiles, the smells, the sounds, the people, the joy and that deep sense of Bolivian pride.
Highlight? Every place we went. All the people we met. It is an incredibly diverse country for a small one. Salt flats, white colonial cities, jungles, Incan ruins and those pre-dating them, mountains, rivers, an island of the sun and birthplace of the Incan society, alien carved ancient masonry (or did they use diamond headed precision tools thousands of years ago?), the original Kontiki, textiles of brilliant colours, llamas, monkeys, snakes, roof dogs and most of this all higher than any point in Australia, England or Viet Nam. We peaked at 5000m above sea level and now scoff a little at the oxygen bottles in Peruvian hotels, but we still gasp and marvel at being breathless but not tired after walking up a wee hill.
I touched on the people and the pride already but it will resonate for a long time. On the compulsory fun tours (which we didn't really want to go on at first) in museums but it was a part of the ticket we were left wanting more. Potosi in particular we were led through the Casa de Moneda for two hours and every minute was interesting. Our guide was honoured to share his rich history about his beautiful country. All of the guides we had the pleasure to learn from shared this pride.
Meeting the locals out and about was always fun too, in mercados, festivos and just being around. They patiently listened to our faltering but improving Español eager to find out about us and answer our questions. Yes it is cheap too but to point this out as a highlight would only take away from how wonderful this country is. You get used to the prices and then find yourself almost stopping yourself spending US$30 on a private cabana in a beautiful hilltop location, almost.
Parades, cymbals, brass sections, avocados, stews with burning hot lava stones, Cholitas, rosy cheeks, long braids, ponchos, baby monkey secrets, hats and breathtaking landscapes - Bolivia. I want to come back in another life as a Bolivian cymbal player travelling to all of the local festivals.
Here's a breakdown of where we went, where we stayed and what we did
For us it was mostly a place to get fixed for our offroad tour to Uyuni. We stayed at Hostal Los Salares. Slightly out of town and nothing fancy, but the staff are great and we used their tour service at reasonable price. The 4x4 trip itself was just amazing, and Carla (guide) and Victor (driver) made it even more so. Tooling about the high wilderness in a comfy Landcruiser was ace, and the route from Tupiza to Uyuni let the features build up and up, reaching the grand finale of the salt flats on the last day
After the wow and yay of the alto plano and the salt flates Uyuni is a comedown. The endless open rubbish pit on the outskirts is terrible. We stayed for one night and then moved on.
The advice to not leave the bus station at night was a bit off putting, even though we arrived in the day. At, it turns out, the safer bus station in town. But once we’d got acquainted with the town such fears faded away. It’s a really fascinating and friendly place, and the tourismo fits around the edge of the town’s business rather than the other way around.
Touring the Cerro Rico mine that looms above the town both physically and figuratively is a personal choice: the boys and men who work in there experience awful life-shortening conditions and there’s an element of visiting a sweatshop in going to see it. On the other hand mine tours supposedly give miners much needed extra income. And they’re very very proud of being miners. One of us did the tour, the other declined. It was a festival day so the mine wasn’t being actively worked, yet the hole riddled mountain was awake enough for the occasional rock slide to make things more interesting.
The town has much more to offer besides: the Spanish coin mint, local restaurants serving stone-heated broths, great markets and of course near continual parades. We stayed at La Casona which was a beautiful old Spanish grand house converted into a hostel. Nice large rooms, but too few and too dirty shared bathrooms.
A really nicely preserved Spanish colonial city serves as Bolivia’s political capital stuffed full of museums, restaurants and other diversions. We parked off at The Beehive for a week, an interesting co-op of hostel, language school and community projects. We took some Spanish lessons hoping to reduce our crimes against grammar. We did a tour to the Sunday market at Tarabuco - a little strange being bussed into a town en tourist mass but overall was a laid back time amongst the gathered people, extranjeros and locals alike.
We flew into the world’s highest commerical airport (tick!) and grabbed a cab into the strange land of La Paz. What an odd place. The city is in a valley. Somewhat unusually to accepted rules about ‘downtown’ the posher and nicer (read: historically Spanish) bits down the bottom of the valley slope since it’s warmer there - by about 8 degrees - compared to the bleaker El Alto that surrounds the steep valley walls. La Paz couldn’t function without El Alto, all its water, food and traffic passes through it. We did a walking / bus / taxi tour with Ben from Banjo Tours who tooks us to all kinds of places that gringos are warned off visiting. A perfect way of getting to know the place.
La Paz is pretty unlike the rest of Bolivia. Not entirely: it still has cholitas, orange juice squeezers at every corner and friendly folk, but the nation’s commercial capital has an edge we didn’t find elsewhere. It’s noisy, busy and grimy. And cold. We passed in and out of La Paz three times, staying at The Adventure Brew (basic yet very efficient backpackers, featuring a free microbrew beer every day), somewhere mid-range and as a final bonus at Hotel Rosario.
The city got easier to drive each time.
After the obligatory bike trip down The Worlds Most Dangerous Road with Gravity (free sandfly attack at the nature sanctuary at the bottom) we spent a negative blood pressure week in Coroico, mostly at Sol y Luna lodge up the hill. This place was amazing. We rented our own cabin in a quiet corner of the grounds with its amazing panoramas (from inside too, three of the walls were just glass), outdoor shower, hammocks and little kitchen. Just perfect, and we could’ve stayed for a great deal longer.
A ridiculously tiny plane flew us from La Paz to Rurrenabaque for our jungle trip with Madidi Travel. There are /loads/ of tour operators doing trips around Rurre, both pampas (big open river floodplains) and proper jungle. Madidi Travel was recommended to us by other travellers and they stand out for their ecotourism credentials. The reserve they’re based in was bought privately by one of the pioneers of the larger Madidi National Park and the proceeds (all of them) go into preserving the land, keeping loggers out and helping the local communities. The accommodation in the jungle was pretty out there - stilted hut with just mozzie nets for walls. A great four days of jungle fun: walking and canoeing trips, chilling in hammocks, communal meals and of course playing with the monkeys.
After the tour we idled for a few days in Rurre at The Hotel Oriental, taking time to get to know the place. It drew comparisons with Laos since there’s some similarity in the place’s lazy, laid back, motorcycling and understated ways.
We didn’t think we’d get to Copacabana since the road there had previously been closed by protesters wanted better road access (ie: a bridge) to connect the peninsula to the Bolivian mainland. Learning the protests were over we aimed ourselves north on a bus (which includes a quick boat trip since there’s no bridge) and parked off at La Cupula. More hammock-edged hardship. The obligatory trip to the Isla De Sol was fun, but trekking at 4000m is breathlessly /hard/.
On our very last day in Bolivia the town went crazy for a fiesta that combined hours of formal parading followed at night by a raucous freestyle party at the top of the hill. This had everything we loved about Bolivia - the proud traditions, the welcoming friendliness to gringo strangers, the beautiful costumes, the casual use of fireworks that would make a safety officers cry, and the endless music.
