Bolivian deserts and stuff

Border crossing

21/7 Leave Argentina, enter Bolivia, and persist with my new Mexican travel buddy, Ivette. She's a bit of a diva, so sometimes I'd call her Divette (Diva-Ivette). Later this helped me let her know when I'd like to pull her head off , without the bloodshed. I couldn't decide if I liked or loathed this girl, but I think she satisfied some need I had for a surrogate mother.

We crossed the border at La Quiaca, on foot, dragging our bags along the dusty road hoping then to catch the afternoon train to Tupiza up north. No luck, we were told the service was not running today, so we forced our way onto a chicken bus instead.

Bolivia is a poor but beautiful country, further sweetened by the cute little grannies and even cuter toddlers. Cute but grumpy. Much of the population is indigenous, and still speaks Quechua, the language of the incas.

Tupiza

22/7 Horse riding, lots of fun. We were lucky our horses were well behaved but keen gallopers.

Got told off for galloping along the train tracks on the way back into town, someone was worried I might run over some old ladies dotted about town. No-one seemed to worry if they got run over by a train though.

Ivette becomes my spanish teacher, this pays for her travels, which is cheap in Bolivia, and the arrangement suits me too.

Back in town Ivette speeds off to check out transport and returns to persuade me that we leave on the evening train. There are 3 classes on the train, 1st, 2nd, and "popular"... which we take - clearly I'm not paying Ivette enough to teach me Spanish. But it turns out to be quite a fun experience. There are no tourists on popular class (even "shoe-string" backpackers can afford to travel first class in Bolivia), so we pile in with the locals, whole families with their pets and a years harvest, exchanging produce regularly through the windows whenever we stopped at villages - coca leaves, fruit, rice you name it.

I ponder how the energy exchanges work that enable someone in Europe to earn enough money in just a few minutes to travel by train for several hours in Bolivia.

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Uyuni

23/7 We arrive at uyuni in the middle of night, well wrapped in woollies - we were warned it drops to minus 20 degrees here. Ivette stays with the bags and I roam the deathly quiet and cold streets on the town looking for somewhere to stay. I feel like i'm in the wild west, the place is pretty ghostly. But we're in luck, as is a Korean chap who was going to spend the night in the station, thinking the town too dangerous to venture into at night. Maybe it is, but we all arrived safe and in one piece with all our stuff.

We spend the day preparing for a trip to the salt plains, checking out tours and shopping for woollies.

We opt for a family-run agency that felt right, seemed pretty organised, and had detailed menus laid out. There are dozens of agencies and you really see this each morning when the tours head out.... a convoy of Toyota 4x4s hits the desert.

Salar Uyuni

24 July. Early start, a few french join us on the tour but otherwise it's a pleasant morning. The scenery all day is beautiful, and the sunset is spectacular.

We pass a couple of breakdowns on the way. Someone looks more depressed than me.

At night we settle into our salt-brick home on an island.

I would definitely come back to Bolivia, buy a 4x4 in La Paz, and just roll.

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Some desert, southern Bolivia

25/7 Next day heading south we are treated to more spectacular scenery and a flamingo dance-show, quite a sight. I'd show you but i cant find the video my internet is too slow.

Further south is less spectacular, the lakes have all but dried up, the national park entry is a rip-off, and its a long bumpy drive. Worth it if you're using a tour to cross the border with Chile or Argentina, but otherwise i'd recommend one night is enough - the salt flats and flamingoes did it for me, the rest was more punishment than passion.

That said, the geysers are impressive, if smelly. The accomodation however was cold and basic, so I was glad to have an arctic sleeping bag (well, a cheap supermarket one, extended with a fleece at a local tailors)

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Chilly, near Chile

26/7 Chilly and early start. We're on a tight schedule to get back. But first some relief from the cold at a hot spring.

Its a long trip back. Ivette and I try to study for a bit but there's tension. I can't remember the details but she had said some things that I found condescending, and I felt treated as if a child. I told her so, and learnt about her being a bit of a diva as a child. We cleared the air. I think these little challenges were part of the reason for my travelling with her. Did I say I wanted a surrogate mother?

Back in town to shower and change and head straight onto the overnight train to Oruno.

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Oruno

27/7 Dawn as the train appoaches Oruno. The carriage windows are thickly iced up. As they thaw we see it's a beautiful ride through the salt lakes. Flamingoes and other flocks of birds fill the sky and waters.

We spend the day at Oruno before catching a bus onto La Paz.

Spot the cute granny...

In La Paz, we do exactly what the guidebooks say not to do, get a cabbie to show us somewhere to stay. But this works out just fine, we get a decent private room for half the price of a hostel dorm bed, and best of all there are no backpackers.

Ok that's enough my head hurts. Coming up next.. Ivette locks me out of our hotel room.

Northern Argentina

Tafi del Valle, Quilmes, Cafayate

13/7 In Tucuman I meet a couple of mad northerners, share a hire-car with them, and drive off to Calafate to taste some wine, dropping off at the Quilmes ruins and passing quite a few cacti.

Some anxiety going on. The previous night I had 2 dreams. In one I get mad and smash a shelf of plastic cups onto the floor. My sister and mother are in the room. In another I witness a skydive that turns into a balloon landing. I am next and scared.

In my diary I note how of two girls I met recently, the one I spotted and approached myself (rather than being introduced), was more typical of the sensitive type I am attracted to. Not surprising really, but made me think that subconsciously I'm looking to rescue and be rescued but if I want a casual affair, I should pick girls more randomly!?)

Cachi and some canyons

14/7 We're on a tight schedule having the car for only two days, so Simon "Schumacher" puts it to the test. We race along some roads winding through canyons stopping to visit the odd "devil's gorge" here and there.

Spot the backpacker

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Salta

15/7 Say goodbye to the northerners, say see you on Facebook etc.

Climb a hill. Visit church. Tick.

16/7 Heavy snow, quite pretty.

Get the woollies on, "matching" hat and jumper, as people keep commenting, though the hat comes from Nepal (a gift from my sis). Funny that remote peoples separated by oceans can produce matching winter-wear. Else it all just looks "ethnic". Oops missing the photo maybe will find one.

And since its snowing i take the opportunity to lose my jacket, stolen in a bar at night. I try pity as a chat-up but it fails and I end up going home alone in the snow at 4am wearing only a t-shirt.. de na na naaa. Well the jacket served its time well, and someone probably more in need of it will benefit.

Jujuy

17/7 A bit of a blur. Town itself reminds me of somewhere like Slough, but with better looking women.

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Though i remember staying in a crappy hostel but met someone who told me about a great thermal spa just out of town, so I move into luxury for a night to recover from the cold grime of the hostel.

Termas de Reyes

18/7 Check-in to a beautiful spa hotel in the middle of no-where. Lounge in a natural thermal volcanic pool while it snows. Lush. Just missing the romance.

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Purmamara, Salinas Grandes

19/7 Lots to see that's hard to reach by public transport, so i hire a car for a day. Drive to Purmamara, a beautiful town nestled within a strikingly coloured landscape. My pictures don't do it justice.

Here I meet some backpackers including a chirpy mexican I call Divette and offer to drive them to Salinas Grandes, some awesome salt flats.

Later head back and onto Tilcares where we all stay at a terrible hostel. I crawl into my sleeping bag to escape the cold.

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Humuhuaca

20/7 I escape alone before dawn and enjoy the early drive, past the tropic of Capricorn (my sign) and onto Humahuaca, another pretty town nestled in more pretty coloured hills.

Find a nice place for breakfast which turns out to be a lovely hotel as well, so I check-in and a naughty thought crosses my mind. I call Divette, the chirpy mexican, and invite her to come over and stay with me (she is heading north also). I'm a bit surprised she accepts. While she makes her way up on the bus, I return the hirecar to Jujuy for lunchtime, and then catch a bus back. The logistics are a bit messed up, times like this I wish I had my own car. Anyway, I'm excited that a pretty young mexican girl I met yesterday has agreed to share my double-room tonight so it doesn't matter.

But it turns out she is a good catholic mexican, and her "body is a temple". Well I had been looking forward to worshipping it, but there were some irreconcilable differences in definition here. So we just sleep peacefully like saints, and in the morning I test her English by using the expression "Morning glory". I explain. At this she jumps out of the bed as if there had been a snake in it (well there was, sort of), and from this point on I'm convinced the one-eyed chappie is on a dead-end mission here.

Scene of no crime

However, we get on well and decide to continue travelling up north together. I can't decide if I like or loath this girl, but either way it makes a change from travelling solo, and I get to practice my Spanish.

Divette, propping up the flintstones bar in Humuhuaca

We hop onto a bus to the Bolivian border for the next leg of adventure..

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Independence Day

(A name or so may have been changed for privacy)

5/7 Leaving Buenos Aires for the second time was even harder. An appointment to reach in Colombia, a few thousand km away, finally lures me out of town.

Go to church, need some spiritual guidance. An old lady sitting in the pew in front of me asks for my name, prays for me, and gives me a little prayer card. It still sits in my wallet 3 months later.

Say a final goodbye to a special girl I will miss.

Feeling shit leaving, stuff my face like Homer.

Night train to Cordoba. Makes a nice change from the bus, though the ride was quite bumpy. Eat & chill in restaurant car before crashing into a real bed! Splashed out on a cabin :-)

6/7 Wake up at 3am, piss in the room sink, back to bed. Wake up at 9am, head to the now packed restaurant car. Join some Cordobese students who make me a comprehensive list of interesting places to visit in the area (Capilla del Monte, La Cumbre, La Falda, San Marcos Sierra, Villa General Belgrano, La Cumbrecita, Villa Alpina, Los Gigantes - Cerro de la Cruz, Cabalango - Tanti). Well interesting to know for next time, as I only made it to one of Che's old homes.

Arrive Cordoba. Scour my dusty cyber-records for any contacts I may have here. Three come up.

1. Some hottie totty met on the beaches of Brazil, but she has de-friended me on Facebook, clearly a cleanup since her profile now shows two heads.

2. A chap I met down in Patagonia. No answer though, even to my request if he can host 11 dutch girls to watch the football. Clearly married or gay.

3. Gise, a lovely girl met on the beaches of brazil. I had no recollection, but luckily my friends have better memories, and are better at staying in touch.

In the evening arrange to meet the dutch team at a concert in town. It's packed, a massive event something to do with independence, but still meeting a 6-foot blonds in a such a crowd is pretty easy.

7/7 Do something cultural. Visit one of Che's old homes.. what a normal looking family.

Afternoon invite the 11 dutch girls to come and watch the football at my hostel, half turn up but thats still plent to help prepare some lovely fresh pizza. Bernie in the background is keeping a watchful eye.

Early evening there's some live music in the hostel, which I quite enjoy. A mixture of styles and languages. Some of it's quite romantic, the candles are out, and I get a little cuddly with one of the dutch on the couch. But the team have to leave later so the romance is short-lived.

Later in the evening head out to meet Gise, and Michelle, a friend of a friend who happens to be in Cordoba, as you do.

Michelle is a strong-willed girl, like our friend in common, Jez. If i ever make it to New York i'll call her up and can imagine it would be a blast.

Almost as an afterthought, Gise gives me the phone number of her cousin in Tucuman, who proves to be a wonderful guide.

8/7 Recovery. Day chilling out on the hostel roof terrace, admiring the murals, making silly faces, and popping out occasionally to check out the local scenery.

Join the hostel BBQ on the roof in the evening. Yum. Then crash out contented onto the midnight bus to Tucuman.

9/7 Independence Day Argentina, which was declared in Tucuman on this day about 200 years ago. So I've come to the right place on the right day. Except I have no-where to stay, so leave my luggage in the bus terminal on a 24 hour ticket.

It's early morning and apart from an uplifting military parade, celebrations don't really get going till the afternoon, so I kill the morning by having breakfast twice and looking for somewhere to stay.

All the hostels and hotels are full, and the love-hotels only take couples (mental note for later). I even try to strike a deal in a brothel, but they close at 9pm, and anyway are closed today for Independence Day. However an off-duty lady of the morning/afternoon lets me in for tea, a chat, and use of the house bathroom.

Off-duty knickers

And off to the local park for a siesta and some lunch. Another day full of pressing tasks.

In the afternoon president Cristina Kirchner pops by to make a speech. The argies aren't very enthusiastic, I think their presence is reserved for the parade that follows..

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Later, armed with a phone number from heaven, cousin Sophia comes to meet me with some of her friends, so I put on my best behaviour for dinner, trying to hold it together after a whole night on a bus and no shower. We all pop by to her place for several cups of coffee, and then out to a rock concert by Charly García, Argentinia's Mick Jagger allegedly. Sophia is cute, but so is one of her friends, and in between a bit of concert jiggering I'm trying to gauge my best chance for accommodation tonight. I'm not detecting any clear signals either way so I stay on the fence for a while longer.

There's a lack of alcohol going on, so this is fixed later as we all retire to a bar. It's cold and on the way I try a little ambiguous hugging with Sophia, which seems to go down quite well. I follow-up in the bar with some under-the-table hand-holding, but I've still no sense of where this might go. It's a bit of a waiting game until everyone starts heading home and Sophia expresses disappointment that her mother is staying over at her place, so much for Independence Day. But Argentina, like any latin country has a great solution to such problems.. the ♥ motel :-D

10/7 Sleep. A hostel now has vacancy. Out later for a spot of clubbing. A crowd of ladies hover outside trying to get into a disco. The bouncer lets me straight in. I wish it was this easy in London.

11/7 World-cup final. Celebrate Spain's victory with Sophie, now that mama has felt.. :-)

12/7 Meet a couple of English brothers in the hostel who have booked a hire-car for the next day. They invite me along which I accept and so the next day I join them on a mad dash through the wine regions of Cafayate and Cachi ending up in Salta...