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Main | Journal: La Paz, Pt.2 | ||
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La Paz, Bolivia -- Part 2 Friday, June 11 I'm convinced that the inventor of Frogger, the arcade classic, has
spent some time in Bolivia. As Elliot knows, crossing the streets has
been a challenge not unlike the game--however, in this case we don't
get three frogs.
I bid farewell to my travelling colleague just over a week ago. He
received passing grades in all subjects and an extra star in Travel
Medicine. Good luck in your new job Elliot. (I certainly am in no
frame of mind to burn the midnight oil yet!)
I had expected to get rid of Elliot and finally relax from our frantic
pace of his three weeks here, but the past week has been anything but
tranquilo (calm). After hearing so many convincing arguments of why I
should spend a week in Southwestern Bolivia, I finally relented,
arriving there at 5am and wondering why I had listened to those
masochistic folks. The wind permeated my body and sent shivers down my
spine. I spent the first forty-five minutes in my little hotel room by thawing my frostbitten toes to the point that I was pretty sure that none would need to be amputated. What was I doing there?
The following day, the reason for my trip to Hell (it must have frozen
over) became eerily apparent. After less than an hour in the jeep, we
(five other tourists, two Bolivians and me) arrived into what seemed to
be an otherworldly place. The Salar de Uyuni, a salt desert twice the
size of the one in Utah, appeared as no other place has in my
four-month adventure. We drove through miles and miles of a flat, salt
plain with stunning backdrops of blue sky and the Andes scenery that I
had been taking for granted lately. It was difficult to tell where the
sky began and where the salt ceased. Turning in every direction, I was
stunned by the way the contrasts made for such a picturesque scene. An
hour later, we arrived at two hotels made entirely of salt, including
tables, bed frames and chess pieces. Unfortunately, pets are not
allowed as they enjoy licking the floors away. The next place seemed
to be completely misplaced in the salt desert. The fish-shaped island
contained larger cacti than I thought to be possible. In the midst of
the salt, this contrast made for some tremendous photography. By
sunset, we arrived at a dusty little town in BFE (as in every other
place on this trip) and made our Saturday night at the only disco in
town, wondering what all the locals were doing--if there were any.
Crazy Bob (not his given name), our Mario Andretti impersonator for a
jeep driver, managed to get us in a bit of a jam when he drove like the
Hazzard boys through the rocky desert. When the jeep lost some
manueverability as it had lost a tire, the passengers were
understandably nervous--until the Crazy man pulled on his one-piece
mechanic's suit, fetched his tools, and finally uncovered the spare
tire after minutes of searching. Finally, we arrived at Laguna
Colorado (Colored Lake) as the sun began to set. Aptly named, the lake
appeared to be a brightly colored red which was quite magnificent when
watching the flamingoes standing up to the gale winds blowing them
along the water. The bitter-cold night required four blankets for the
imbecilic Irish people who didn't bother to bring sleeping bags.
I was quite happy to drop the three selfish Irish people off at the
Chilean border the following day. Remembering how Americans have
acquired a poor reputation as travellers in Europe and the Israelis the
same here in South America, I quickly attached a stereotype to all
Irish travellers that I hope to be proven untrue in the days to
come--until that time, I will not be setting foot on Irish soil and
never will I visit the city of Limerick. Don't worry, though, I have
been doing a bang-up job as a representative of the U.S.A. (Brett,
Sean and the others I have met along the way would certainly agree with
that. Right?!?)
The trip improved, upon the departure of the aforementioned cretins, as I
played some geography games with the remaining Brit and Canadian who
didn't care for the towns I invented in Michigan, New Jersey and
Oregon. Other notable sights were the hot springs, the geysers, the
valley of rocks (very big ones), and the rock tree. As you can tell,
we saw some wild stuff.
Before I conclude, a quick bit on the silver mines I crawled through in
Potosi. The cave-like exploration at over 14,000 feet (Potosi is the
highest city in the world) wore me out completely. The miners, some of
age fourteen, some having worked there for thirty years, were slowly
dying of some lung illness. They looked at me expectantly for the coca
leaves and dynamite that I distributed as some sort of dirty Santa
Claus who descended through the mines with his helmet and latern.
I'm heading back to Cuzco now for a week of Spanish lessons, a reprieve
from the Bolivian altiplano, and a little Spanish dancing.
Dan
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