The big trip: December 2011

As I entered the main square in Sucre, Bolivia, I noticed a very well dressed young man donning a white shirt and dark sweater and pants, wearing a backpack and holding a book. He was sitting on one of the many park benches placed around the edge of the square, talking to another man who may or may not have been a local. I immediately recognized backpack-boy as a Mormon, the book he was holding half-open, his Bible. The two men seemed deep in converstion and the "victim" did not seem to be bothered by his Bible thumping companion.

I chose the next bench over, not caring where in the sqaure I sat, as long as I was left alone. The minute I sat down, a small dirty boy, no older than 8 years old, approached me with a portable shoeshine kit and a box of gum. After he quickly realized my sneakers were not suitable for a shoeshine, he put the kit down and brought forth the box of gum.

"¿Habla español?"
"No"
"¿Habla inglés?"

I thought about this for a split second before replying in the negative.

"¿Francais? ¿Aleman?"

"No. No... Daneis."

"¿Que? ¿Italiano?"

"No, Daneis"

"¿Pero, entiende un pocito español, si?"

"No." And with that I quickly tired of this game and pulled out my Lonely Planet to give him a clear sign that I wasn't interested in the 4 flavors of gum he was now regaling me with, for the low, low price of 1 Boliviano (about 14 cents) each. After I landed on a very interesting article on Lake Titicaca, he gave up and walked away.

No soon after the little boy deserted his mission and I was deep in a paragraph about the Isla de Sol, did an even dirtier old man come my way. He was bearing a traditional Bolivian blanket slung across his back, carrying what was probably his whole life, or wares he was trying to sell. I didn't even bother looking up to see if he was selling something or just begging but I quickly shook my head no. Not even getting a verbal reaction out of me, he gave up and walked away.

At that point, I kind of wished the Mormon would approach me. I probably wouldn't buy what he was selling either but at least I could reject him with a little dignity.

My reprise came when a little girl came up, selling magazines. Before I could reject her, she shoved a laminated card in my face, in English, explaining how the sale of the magazine helped the working children of Sucre and that half the proceeds went to them and their families. I told her in English that she shouldn't be working in the first place, but playing. She just stared at me, her big, brown, innoccent eys, hoping beyond hope that because I was actually talking to her, she had reeled me in.

She was right. I took 3 Bolivianos out of my change purse and handed them over to her, getting in return a 15-page English/Spanish magazine with articles about the plight of the local children, including one editorial from a 94-year old woman who believed that three of her children had died because her husband was cursed when he inherited a bit of land.

As the little girl was pocketing her fortune, I told her again, this time in Spanish, that she shouldn´t be working, but playing. She gave me a strange look before she ran across the way, to join her fellow salesgirl and compare recent incomes.

...Are just some of the very legitimate valleys I have been to in the last 2 weeks.

The night before we left for the 3 day tour to Uyuni, we took the opportunity to take a 4 hour tour to Death Valley and Moon Valley in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.. In the beginning, I thought Death Valley was an amazing view and I got a few good shots, including one of me from the side, overlooking the valley, looking like I am contemplating life, but in reality I am just trying to look cool.

Here are a few other random pics of Death Valley and area.

Self shot, thus the shadow

After Death Valley, we went on to Moon Valley . Very beautiful and very surreal. It's one of those places where pictures don't do it justice. We ditched the group of loud Brazilians and followed our guide along a ridge about 25 minutes to an ideal spot where we could sit in silence and watch the sunset.

On Dec 23, we left San Pedro de Atacama for Bolivia, Salar de Uyuni, and all the lagunas on the way. At the Immigration Office, I was pulled to the side because the dates on my Bolivian visa were written in pen and a bit smudged, thus causing much suspicion. Luckily I was not the only one. The guy from Leichtenstein raised a few eyebrows and caused a bit of map searching so the focus was not entirely on me...

Our first stop was at Laguna Colorada. (or the Red Lagoon). There were a few flamingos that we were excited to see. Unfortunately, by ths time, my camera shit the bed so all I had was my iPhone which does not take the best pictures. Well, good closeups anyway.

The following day, Christmas eve, was filled with stops at various lagunas and weird rock formations (I did manage to get some shots with Michael's camera so they are posted a bit further down, out of order, but really does it matter to you?

Randon signage at Isla Incahuasi

This cactus on Isla Incahuasi is 9 meters high and supposedly 900 years old.

Resident llama on the edge of Isla Incahuasi

These llamas were taunting the dog. Or the other way around.

The edge of the Isla Incahuasi. Really does look like ice.

Llamas at one of the lagunas

Arbol de Piedra

Our drivers, another driver, and Simon from a country nobody in Bolivia had ever heard of.

Setting up for lunch on day 2

Stop in pueblo in the middle of nowhere, where our drivers had a few beers.

We like to think these cacti are giving the finger. To whom, we did not speculate...

The French guy and me wearing the German's nisse hats on Christmas Eve.

Christmas eve dinner was grilled Llama with rice and french fries, complete with ketchup and mayo, a Bolivian staple, apparently.

Our room in the salt hotel on the second night of our Salar excursion. The floor was loose salt and the "bricks and morter" were also salt. I resisted the tempation to lick the walls.

On the way to Isla Incahuasi

Cactus on Isla Incahuasi...again

Yeah, sorry it's sideways...

Ornery Llamas getting pissed at the island dog (already been chased out of the shot...)

Natual salt formations

After we arrived in Uyuni at around 14:00, we checked in to our hostel, relaxed a bit and went out for an early dinner with some of our new friends from the tour. We ate Christmas Day dinner at the slowest reataurant in Bolivia. One of the guys was leaving on a middle-of-the-night train to Tupiza and as we were not sure how we were going to get out of town the next day (something I was eager to do), we decided to join him. The 5.5 hour train ride took 10.5 hours, as we broke down on the way. Luckily we broke down at a station so I could go out and pay 3 Bolivianos to use the bathroom (No, they didn't have any working ones on the train).

We arrived in Tupiza, a small Western-style town (of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid fame. I haven't seen the movie yet. But we did see the "sequel" with Sam Shepard and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau in Spanish on the train...)

So we decided this would be the perfect place to check "horseback riding" off the list. A nice 3 hour ride through Inca Cañon and Valle de Los Machos (Valley of the Penises...) incuded a bit of trotting which didn't scare me. I actually encouraged my horse to trot a bit. Yay me.

Me and some penises

More peni...

The view from our hostel

After two days in Tupiza, we headed up to Sucre on the night bus ( A scary endeavour that actually took less time than we expected.) We arrived at our beautiful hostel (more like a guesthouse) with a resident dog and a gorgeous view of the city from the balcony. We had a relaxed New Years Eve watching all the not so relaxed Bolivians go nuts with their fireworks and booze. It was a bit like Denmark, except it only lasted 20 minutes.