Long time no speak.
Bolivia is a communications black hole. Phones don't work, forget about internet access.
Finally, we've finally made it to a town with internet (and electricity!) so now I need to remember as many details from the last (very interesting) week.
Salta, Argentina.
Our last major pitstop in Argentina.
The plan was to stay 3 days, take it easy and be lazy. It worked out slightly differently. We met Andreas and Aynur again, they had booked themselves into a hostel across town and after meeting up (difficult without phones, thank God for gmail!) a plan soon developed to rent a car. The guys had done slightly more research than us and it seemed there was a few nearby towns that were worth driving to, spending the night in each. Sure why not.
One thing that I needed before we left though, was a haircut. I had been dreading the event as I'm a bit picky about getting a good haircut, a 5 euro cut just won't do. Like everything else in South America I was prepared for exactly what I hadn't asked for. Spotting a OK looking setup I plonked into the seat. Although the girl with scissors spoke no English, the boss at the counter did and between the 3 of us we agreed that I would get a 4 back and sides and trim on top. Grand, all going well, not sweating too much. Scissors-girl was back quickly though. No sign of a 4-blade, just a 3 and a 6. Weird. OK a 3 so, little shorter than I'd planned but sure I'm on holidays. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, the blading begins. Half the hair on my head drops to the ground. Through the reflection in the mirror I spot a look of horror on the boss. Much frantic Spanish gibberish and the mystery is solved. Apparently 3 and 6 meant millimetres. A 3mm is a 1-blade. Nice. It was going to be cold in the mountains. Some sort of repair operation was carried out and I left, scalped, with the staff sniggering behind me, all my fears about a South American haircut realized.
The following morning we picked up our 2 Volkswagen Gols (similar to a Polo) and hit the road. Well "road", for as long as it lasted. Our first stop was a town named Cachi. A winding 100 mile crawl through the mountains put our hatchbacks to the test once the tarmac gave way to dirt track looping along the edge of the Andes offering the most spectacular views. The altitude became physically noticable as catching a breath seemed to become more difficult the further we progressed.
A brief note on Altitude sickness and its effects........
At around 4000m your body receives half as much oxygen with each breath compared to sea level. You become fatigued quickly and light-headed. For extended periods (a few days or more) you can suffer from headache, fatigue, stomach illness, dizziness, and being unable to sleep. In the next 5 days we would experience all of these.
We checked into our hostel in Cachi and sat out for a simple but cheap meal next to the plaza. Karen had began to get ill at this stage and it was a sign of things to come. A slightly uncomfortable night left Aynur covered in insect bites (we reckon it was bedbugs, yuck). The 2nd part of our drive was to another small town called Cafayate. Having thought the drive the day before was tough, this one set the bar for crapness. Imagine the surface you drive on in a temporary car park at match or concert. A sort of uneven gravel. You need to do about 10 miles an hour to preserve the suspension. Well imagine driving on that - to Limerick. Add to that, randomly placed rocks the size of footballs and cliffs edges that you discover when you notice there are suddenly no trees growing beside the road. Calling the route to Cafayate a road would be doing country back roads in Meath an disservice. After 5 long gruelling hours (and one puncture, a mini story in itself) we made it to our destination. Covered in dust and dirt I almost had to restrain myself from kissing the tarmac promising I would never bad-mouth the M50 again (a promise I probably won't keep).
Bolivia is a communications black hole. Phones don't work, forget about internet access.
Finally, we've finally made it to a town with internet (and electricity!) so now I need to remember as many details from the last (very interesting) week.
Salta, Argentina.
Our last major pitstop in Argentina.
The plan was to stay 3 days, take it easy and be lazy. It worked out slightly differently. We met Andreas and Aynur again, they had booked themselves into a hostel across town and after meeting up (difficult without phones, thank God for gmail!) a plan soon developed to rent a car. The guys had done slightly more research than us and it seemed there was a few nearby towns that were worth driving to, spending the night in each. Sure why not.
One thing that I needed before we left though, was a haircut. I had been dreading the event as I'm a bit picky about getting a good haircut, a 5 euro cut just won't do. Like everything else in South America I was prepared for exactly what I hadn't asked for. Spotting a OK looking setup I plonked into the seat. Although the girl with scissors spoke no English, the boss at the counter did and between the 3 of us we agreed that I would get a 4 back and sides and trim on top. Grand, all going well, not sweating too much. Scissors-girl was back quickly though. No sign of a 4-blade, just a 3 and a 6. Weird. OK a 3 so, little shorter than I'd planned but sure I'm on holidays. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, the blading begins. Half the hair on my head drops to the ground. Through the reflection in the mirror I spot a look of horror on the boss. Much frantic Spanish gibberish and the mystery is solved. Apparently 3 and 6 meant millimetres. A 3mm is a 1-blade. Nice. It was going to be cold in the mountains. Some sort of repair operation was carried out and I left, scalped, with the staff sniggering behind me, all my fears about a South American haircut realized.
The following morning we picked up our 2 Volkswagen Gols (similar to a Polo) and hit the road. Well "road", for as long as it lasted. Our first stop was a town named Cachi. A winding 100 mile crawl through the mountains put our hatchbacks to the test once the tarmac gave way to dirt track looping along the edge of the Andes offering the most spectacular views. The altitude became physically noticable as catching a breath seemed to become more difficult the further we progressed.
A brief note on Altitude sickness and its effects........
At around 4000m your body receives half as much oxygen with each breath compared to sea level. You become fatigued quickly and light-headed. For extended periods (a few days or more) you can suffer from headache, fatigue, stomach illness, dizziness, and being unable to sleep. In the next 5 days we would experience all of these.
We checked into our hostel in Cachi and sat out for a simple but cheap meal next to the plaza. Karen had began to get ill at this stage and it was a sign of things to come. A slightly uncomfortable night left Aynur covered in insect bites (we reckon it was bedbugs, yuck). The 2nd part of our drive was to another small town called Cafayate. Having thought the drive the day before was tough, this one set the bar for crapness. Imagine the surface you drive on in a temporary car park at match or concert. A sort of uneven gravel. You need to do about 10 miles an hour to preserve the suspension. Well imagine driving on that - to Limerick. Add to that, randomly placed rocks the size of footballs and cliffs edges that you discover when you notice there are suddenly no trees growing beside the road. Calling the route to Cafayate a road would be doing country back roads in Meath an disservice. After 5 long gruelling hours (and one puncture, a mini story in itself) we made it to our destination. Covered in dust and dirt I almost had to restrain myself from kissing the tarmac promising I would never bad-mouth the M50 again (a promise I probably won't keep).
Cafayate turned out to be a beautiful little town centred around a pretty plaza that came alive at night with locals partying. What was so great to see was how 1. Whole families came out and socialised together and 2. No alcohol was involved. There is a lot to be said for South American appreciation for quality of life in the purest sense.
The following morning we hopped in the car for an enjoyable last 100 miles home, tarmac roads!
That evening we checked into a plush B&B for one night before catching the bus to Bolivia. We arranged to meet Andreas and Aynur and travel together. But things were not good in the stomach department....
At 2am I was feeling aching pains in my lower back and then the vomitting started... That was the beginning of 3 straight days in bed with no food unable to move. Meanwhile Karen had still been getting stomach cramps and a visit to the doctor confirmed an intestinal bug with instructions to take antibiotics and "No worry". Eventually I decided I was well enough to travel and we made our way to the border.
We had read and heard lots of what to expect in Bolivia, bad roads, bad food but great people! The bus to the border through Argentina was uneventful and after an interesting passport stamping procedure we gave into one of the many agressive hawkers directing us towards a bus and paid the 2 euro for the 2 and a half hour trip to Tupiza (the starting point for our trip around Salt Flats).
Its difficult to describe how mentally and physically exhausting the next 2 hours were. Car manufacturers often have stretches of test track that consist of a series of bumps and holes designed to shake a car to bits and see where the weak points are. Although they don't put test dummies in the car, I now feel fully qualified to apply for the position. At times I'm sure the double-decker left the ground completely. Your head would meet the roof, your stomach would get left behind. After the first time it happened I was convinced that the driver had mis-judged a hill, we had destroyed the suspension, the trip was over and a new bus was on the way. But no, on we went, head meeting roof so often that I reckon I was going to punch a hole in it. On one of these regular trips to the head-shaped dent above me I looked around to see most of the locals fast asleep! I will never moan about Dublin Bus again. Well, we'll see....
The following morning we met up with Andreas and Aynur again and high-fived our sucess at surving the bus trip from Hell. Tupiza sits at 3700m and we were all noticing the effects of it; headaches, fatigue and loss of appetite. We booked our 4x4 trip for the Salt Flats for the next morning. Following a light breakfast (half an orange juice for me) we met our driver. A cheeky chap, he seemed to enjoy winking at everyone. That was until I realised he was one eye short of a pair. We were about to experience a new meaning to the expression "blind corner", which in our case was any road that went left...
Amongst many highlights in Bolivia, a 4 day trip around the Salar de Uyuni is considered one of the greatest experiences. The 4 days consists of visits to lakes, geysers, volcanoes and finally the Salt Flats themselves. The absolute only way to do this is in 4x4. Such is the remoteness of much of the sights that nights are spend in isolated mud and brick outposts high up in the mountains. At no stage were we ever lower than 4000m. The effect this has on your body is crippling. Unable to walk more than a few metres before being out of breath everything you do is an exhaustive ordeal. Over time you adjust but not before a few days of experiencing life as a 95 year old. Despite this, the reward is some of the most isolated and beautiful landscapes in the world. Mountains seem to stretch into the distance forever. Being mostly created by volcanic activity thousands of years ago the legacy is a scorched environment dotted with toxic lakes and bubbling geysers.
The tour finished on the final day with a 4am start to see the sunrise on the 10,000 sq KM Salt Flats. Originally a lake 40,000 years ago it dried to leave a perfectly flat salt surface. Since it stretches so far there are no trees or rocks to indicate perspective, great for photos, see below!
Next stop was Fish Island. An eerie lonely "island" located in the middle of the flats it provided an opportunity for breakfast, more photos and a lot of very old cactii (most around 1000 years old).
A short drive to the town of Uyuni itself we unloaded the bags and bid farewell to our drivers (we had travelled with another jeep) and checked into the nearest hostel for the night thoroughly exhausted with our sleepless nights and early mornings but not regretting a minute of it.
Next stop Potosi!
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Our first stop on the 4x4 tour. It was impossible to take a bad photo of the landscape. 
The Toilet Police.
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The tree shaped rock
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One of the many volcanoes. We need more of these in Ireland.
Catch of the day. Lizzy the Lizard.
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Honey I Shrunk the Germans.
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Random stupid pose........ NOW!
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See ye later hat!
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Karen tripping on the Coca.
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Everyone together. From left; Brianni, Karen, Aynur, Andreas, Me, Lilly, Nate, Ignassio, Mark.
sounds like you had the altitude sickness bad. at least you'll know what to expect for cusco. salt flats look amazing!
ReplyDeletePics are great....sounds like you're having a ball despite the altitute sickness....and you though I was just a weakling for having a mental breakdown on the side of a mountain in Peru!! Keep up the updates.....I'm spending the weekend painting and wallpapering which somehow just doesn't compare!
ReplyDeleteActually 3500m is easy-peasy for us now, we're looking forward to going down to Cusco, lots of oxygen there! Just joking :)
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the painting!