Goodbye Bolivia, Hello Argentina

  Buenos Aires, Capital Federal District, Argentina
Saturday, November 15, 2003

9th Nov Uyuni - Potosi ( Bolivia)
Awake before 6am, so decide we'll do diary - Dianne typing and Murray dictating. Hear the water come on about 7am, and have to rush to turn off the taps. We're in full flight with the diary, so decide to have shower later -BIG MISTAKE. An hour later there was no water, and none up till the time we left. Dianne goes out to get bread and bananas, while Murray watches for the bus, which is right next door.
Bus leaves at 10am -surprisingly luxurious, which we don't want as it means it has curtains up the front, making it hard to see the view. We're also on the left side, which is not the best side for the majority of the good views.
We climbed up out of the town- could see down to the salt lakes for a surprising time. Stopped at Pulacayo (4117 metres) to let people off. There is the remains of a major mine and mill, and the town is perched on the side of the mountain. A lot of mine tailings along the bed of the river leading away from the town. Murray sees a rhea or similar. Sign at the town says that this is where Butch Cassidy held up his first train in Bolivia in the 19th century.
Land is getting greener - water in some of the streams, and extensive agriculture in some of the valleys. Some cattle as well as llama. At lunch stop there are no toilets, so Dianne forced to do as the locals, and squat under a not-very dense thorn bush.
Tickaticka was an authentic campesino village, and had quite attractive thatched roof housing and very colourful ranges behind. Bus very crowded at this stage with local people. Old lady sitting on her bundle in the aisle beside us. Another young woman standing with bundle on back, which turns out to have a 2-month old baby in it. Dianne offers to hold it, and does so for a couple of hours. Very cute (photo). The road from here led into quite a narrow gorge, and we climbed up into high (er) country. Road is gravel all the way, but mostly in reasonable condition. Spectacu.lar mountain off to the left, which we can see for quite a while. Come across a broken-down opposition bus, and end up with half its passengers, plus most of the luggage off the roof, which makes for a pretty crowded bus. Closer to Potosi, we follow the railway line and water pipe through some pretty spectacular scenery - mountains, gorges and rock faces. We entered Potosi at the lower level, which, once again, looked pretty grim. Wound our way up through narrow half-made streets, hoping the bus is going to keep going. This is an UNESCO listed town, but when the bus finally stops, about 4.30pm, there is no indication of it. Get a taxi for 6 Bs up the steep hill - now see some indication of colonial architecture. Dropped at our hotel of choice, but the room is minute, as is the share bathroom, so decide to look for something better. The stupid guide book we are using (Footprint) uses the same numbers on the map for hotels and eating places. The only difference is one is in a square, and one is in a circle. We find on the map what we think is the hotel we were taken to, but in fact it was a restaurant, shown with the same number. From then on we have great difficulty finding various hotels. We find our next choice (an upmarket hotel) after asking someone, but it is full, and this compounds the error when we go looking for the third choice. When we can't find it, after walking backwards and forwards up and down steep streets (at 4,070 metres, dragging our bags) we finally realise what our mistake i.s. After finding another full hotel, someone recommends Companie de Jesus, which is just around the corner, good, and has rooms with hot water and own bathroom. for 90 Bs. This in fact was our first choice, but we abandoned it as it was not shown on the guidebook map, and we didn't know if it was central or not. Now 6pm -Into room, where we collapse on the bed with exhaustion. Murray wasn't feeling too well before this, and is now beat.
When we were in Oman, just over a month ago, we read about bad riots in La Paz, with lots of road blocks, including to the airport, More than 50 people were killed. Since then we have been monitoring the situation closely, as we have a flight out of La Paz. Since then the President has resigned, and a new one, supposedly more sympathetic to the campesinos, has taken his place. The Australian Government web site says to avoid Bolivia, and particularly La Paz, and especially any large gatherings of people. We've talked to quite a few people who have just come from La Paz, and they say it's fine, though there is a lot of damage evident from the riots, so we still intend to catch our flight from there.
While Murray has a sleep, Dianne reads the guidebook, and finds that November 10 is a Festival Day for the Anniversary of Potosi, whch explains the problem with finding accommodation. After a rest, out to find information about mine tours, and have dinner. Koala Tours is closed, but will open at 7.30 in the morning, and Dianne finds a piece of paper in the restaurant saying they have tours at 9am and 2pm, so can organise in the morning. Have a good dinner ( four courses - small crepe, soup, crumbed chicken and mashed potato, and fruit salad and yoghurt costs 20 Bs or A$4!). From the restaurant balcony can see into the Plaza, where there are people congregating, and bands playing. See groups of police from time to time, which is a bit of a worry. Situation not helped when we talk to a traveller, who tells us the new President is coming to Potosi tomorrow! Not what people who are trying to avoid crowds, especially political ones, want! Back to room for reasonable night's sleep. Walking 7 kms
Mon 10th Nov Potosi
Awake about 6am, but stay in bed rugged up, typing the diary, as too cold to get out of bed, and Murray still not well. Dianne goes down to tour office about 7.45am, and told mine tour goes in five minutes, and afternoon one may not run. Say we'll go, and rush back to get Murray out of bed. Grab a roll from the cafeteria on the way, as breakfast is included in room rate. Two Dutch girls also on tour. Our guide, Pedro, takes us to his place, where we are fitted out with protective pants and jacket, gum boots, safety helmet and helmet light pack.
The Spanish came to Potosi in 1545, and by the early 17th century it was the largest city in the America's, because of the enormous amounts of silver it had. Over the next two centuries, as the silver was depleted, it became almost a ghost town. In the early 20th century the mining of tin saved the town, until the price slumped because of over-supply. It now has a population of 112,000, and about 6,000 work in the mines.
The state mines were closed in the 1980's, because they were considered unproductive, and not safe. However this left the local population with no employment, so they decided to work them themselves - it was better to die from mining, than die from hunger. They are now worked as co-operatives by small groups of miners. We're going to go down the mine and see the primitive conditions under which they work. Our next stop is the local miner's market to buy a present for the miners. We have a choice of 96% pure alcohol, bag of coca leaves (that cocaine is made from), or a dynamite pack, which consists of a stick of dynamite (Bolivian or Argentinian, not the shit Peruvian one), plus a bag of ammonium nitrite and a cap with a 4-minute black powder fuse attached. We opt for the dynamite for 16 Bs.


The miners work in small teams, which tend to be competitive, particularly if two are working the one seam, with one from above and one from below. Apparently some of the more gung-ho types add diesel to the mixture to give it that little bit of extra sting. Pedro considers this excessive. Pedro joined his father in the mine when he was ten, and worked there for five years, while continuing his schooling at the same time. Told us later of the problems, with teachers making fun of him because he hadn't done his homework, or falling asleep in class. Is very pleased to be out of the mine - much prefers to be a guide.
Continue up the hill to beyond the old mill site. At this point we notice the watercourse has been directed into a concrete tunnel, because it's so toxic, and they're trying to keep the kids from playing in it. Stop at a checkpoint, where we give a lift to some miners, and continue up a brand-new tar road before branching off on a rough road to the mine tunnels and buildings. There are a number of miners sitting outside, chewing coca leaves. Told that all miners chew coca for an hour or so before going down the mine to get strength (we thought it was more to numb themselves to the hardships of the day). Pedro chews leaves the whole tour, until we think his cheek will burst, it's so full! - says it's because he didn't sit outside for an hour like the others. Makes us wonder if they are addicted to them. Wait around for a while, but looks like they may not work today as it's a public holiday, and they also had a big piss-up yesterday as it was Sunday (the only day they don't work ), and they all have a hangover.
The mine tunnel's arched entrance is about a metre wide and two metres high, with a 2-foot gauge railway line coming out, and swinging around the face of the mountain to five or six bins, probably so each crew can keep of its production. Walking in, it suddenly gets much lower and narrower, and one of the Dutch girls decides it's too claustrophobic and turns back. We continue into a less-ordered part of the tunnel with timber props and cross-beams. At this stage we have to start bending over to avoid hitting our heads. There's a large bundle of poly pipe and electrical cables, which also make walking difficult. The floor is irregular, with some places having sumps barely covered by wooden boards, and the odd large lump of ore that's fallen on the path. There are wooden shutes for loading mine carts which service various mining areas above us. Not far in is a side tunnel with a locked door, which is the mining museum. No electricity, so had to look at the exhibits by our mining helmet light. One of the prize exhibits was a seated statue of the devil, painted red, and obviously excited about something. Pedro tells us that in their religion both God and the Devil can be good and bad. They give him cigarettes, alcohol and coca to keep him happy.
Walk about 400 metres along the tunnel, bending double at times to avoid hitting our head, then come to a crossroads, with the railway carrying on to the left, and the other branch blocked. We now have to descend to the second level, via a steeply pitched passage, with rocks quite slippery and a minimum of handholds, and so low that we had to crawl on knees and/or slide on backside at times. At one point there was an almost vertical shaft going down 20 metres, past the next level. This shaft is used with their new electric winch so they don't have to hump 50 kg bags of ore up the same slope.
There's another train line at the second level which we follow for a while, until we find a hole in the side of the tunnel, which we follow down an even steeper and narrower tunnel to a working face, where we sit and recover and Pedro tells us stories about mining and miners. In here it is very hot and sweaty, with an acrid chemical smell in the air. The temperature in the mine varies from freezing cold to stinking hot depending on the level of ventilation, and the amount of oxidation of the ore. We're quite pleased no-one is working today, as we can still get the idea of what it would be like without the extreme discomfit. When they are working, the air is even worse, and it sounds like it could be quite dangerous. Pedro says they usually do the dynamiting at night, but will do it in the day if they have less than four explosions to do (or, they're trying to get to the good ore before someone else). If they are going to dynamite, they bang on a resonant rock in a certain code, so that others in the tunnel can take shelter. Six people work this small hole - some drilling, some loading loose ore into bags, others humping the bags up the steep path to the mine car on the railway, and someone running the mine-car backwards and forwards. At this stage we're quite happy to make our way back. Outside, we're invited into the miner's change room to sit and talk with the miners, as best we could with fractured Spanish, and Pedro's translations. They've finished their coca leaves, and are now into the 96% alcohol, usually mixed with water or cordial. They're very interested to hear that Murray's a mining engineer. They are all quite superstitious, and spill some of every drink on the ground for "Pachamama" the Indian earth goddess (we think). Also, when someone is injured or killed in the mine, they feel that now Pachamama will be satisfied, and no-one else will be hurt for a while. There are lots of feuds between different co-operatives, and even different groups within the co-operative. A lot of fights are physical, with injuries and even death. They believe they need to spill blood to make Pachamama happy.
One man is 54 years old, and they find that it's incredible that he's still alive (he's been down the mines since he was 11 years old). All his mates have died or been killed, and most miners are dead before they're 50. One of the main killers is respiratory disease. Not only is the air full of dust, it also contains various toxins such as arsenic, lead, zinc, antimony and asbestos!
Pedro says the most important thing in finding a wife is someone who cooks well and looks after you, as the miners pend most of their time at the mine. They tend not to marry for love, and there is a lot of infidelity.
In the museum there was information from someone's thesis, saying that 96% of workers did it for the money to support their families, and 4% because they liked it. Pedro, knowing the miners well, doubted that anyone did it for the love of it, so we asked them why they went down the mines. The answers were very reminiscent of those we've heard in depression era coal mining movies. The 54 year old said he'd never been to school, and had no education, so going down the mine with his father was the natural thing to do. Another miner, who was 48, gave the very poignant answer that he loved his wife, was never unfaithful, and had nine children to support, and there was no other work, so he had to go down the mine. However, he would not allow his children to do it, even though they were all unemployed, and some were in their twenties.
Another younger miner said his father was a miner, but wanted him to get an education, which he was doing, until his father fell ill, and could no longer support the family. He then had to go down the mine, but tried to continue his education at night, but found it impossible. By this time the 96% alcohol was disappearing fast, and we thought it a good time to leave. Found this was an extraordinary opportunity to get some insight into the problems of the miners, who work in medieval conditions. We found just getting down to where they were working was tiring and uncomfortable. They stay there doing hard physical exercise for 8 hours or so, six days a week.
On the way back, a convoy of flash vehicles passes - obviously the President arriving. We've talked to a few people about the likelihood of trouble, and they say it'll be fine. Even though they know he's coming to make all sorts of promises, none of which will be kept, they will at least give him the benefit of the doubt for a few months. Besides, the campesinos were on strike a month ago, so they can't afford to be without money again so soon.
Back to return our miner's gear, then to Koala Restaurant for lunch. The square is now full of people, and lots of marching bands. The whole town is abuzz with people.



Back to room for an hour's much-needed sleep. Can hear the bands, and speeches on a loudspeaker from our room. Out later to catch local bus down to the bus terminal (1 BS each). We want a day-bus to Oruro tomorrow, as the scenery is supposed to be good. Can only find night buses, but eventually locate one outside the terminal. Walk part of the way back up the hill, and then get local bus. Stay on when we pass our hotel, and get out in a colonial area, so can walk back down, past some very interesting old buildings.
By now people are streaming away from the main plaza, and that's not the only thing streaming. Bolivians urinate wherever they are, and the streets are running. We've found it a real problem in the country. Everywhere you go, you can smell stale urine.
Find an internet place that will cut a CD, and has Windows XP to upload travelpod, so back to room to get the gear to do it. Were not finished when it closes at 9.30pm, so have to go back in the morning.
Go to Koala for a late dinner, but find it closed, so Dianne has a mediocre hamburguesa, and Murray a soup, as he's still suffering from diarrhoea. Walking 11 kms
Tues 11th Nov Potosi - Oruro
Leisurely good bread breakfast at hotel. Check out, and leave bags, then Murray up to finish very slow unloading of film from camera, while Dianne looks for the passage of the seven doors. If she did find it, it wasn't worth finding. Back to pick up bags, and get taxi to bus station. Took much less time than expected, and arrived an hour early for our 1.30pm bus. Murray waits with bags, while Dianne goes in search of bread and bananas, and comes back with half a chook, and bread, after a long search.
We have the front right-side seats on the bus, but they leave the curtain open, so get fairly good view out. Bus is new, but is more of the cross-country style with over-sized wheels and high ground clearance -makes one wonder about the state of the road. Just as we're about to leave, the driver's cabin fills with about eight extras, all talking to the driver in spite of the sign.
Leave Potosi downhill along a watercourse with a fair bit of very polluted water in it. Irrigated terraces alongside. Turns into a gorge, and then a ravine. The valleys are generally greener than we've seen, with the usual spectacular mountains and grand vistas. After about two hours the good toll road deteriorates into a combination of new, unused road with a rough sidetrack, and road under construction, where we have to negotiate heavy earthmoving traffic. The villages are generally pretty basic. Typically a woman and a young girl, in traditional gear, minding mixed herds of animals. Murray introduced to the Bolivian practice of pissing against the wall at one very brief stop.
At one stage, staggered to see a row of skinless, headless, but not neckless, row of llamas sitting in their usual camel-like position along the bank, with traditionally dressed locals in attendance.



A big pile of skins was stacked beside the road - looked like waiting to be picked up. The amount of meat seemed excessive for the local population - but maybe they are going to be picked up by a truck (one would hope with a freezer) and taken to a local population centre.
Later we see smaller examples of the same. Maybe today is pick-up day, or slaughtering day.
Stop at Challapata, a hole in the wall, for a banyo and food break for those who were game. By now we've reached the plains, and the scenery is pretty ordinary. Lago Poopo, which shows on the map, is another dry lake, possibly salty. Supposed to be a major bird sanctuary in the right season. Now coming on dark. Oruro (population (183,422), is a pretty ordinary town from the outskirts, and doesn't improve when we arrive at the bus-station at about 8pm. Not as scary as could be, as the terminal has security gates that open for the buses, and no-one else ( everyone, from hotel owners to tourists, to warning signs, advise us to be very careful at the bus terminals, as there are a lot of pickpockets). Head straight for the hotel that we can see, and is recommended in our guide book, as it is quite dark in the street - traffic doesn't bother with headlights, and there are lots of stray dogs around. Room is OK, with own bathroom, but very close to public ones, and has an outside window through which can hear dogs and traffic. Murray goes out to look for a cold drink, but comes back empty-handed. All of the drinks are straight off the shelf, so settle for dinner of our water and the remains of the chicken and bread. Watch a bit of cable TV, then to sleep. We're exhausted, and get a fairly good night's sleep despite the distractions. Walking 3km + extra 2km Dianne.
Wed 12th November Oruro-La Paz (Bolivia)
Dianne out about 8.30am to book 10 am bus to La Paz, and buy some more bread.
While waiting for bus to leave, Murray inspects the tyres, and reports that both right rear tyres are totally bald. Bus isn't as upmarket as we first thought. Dianne is under impression that someone used the floor of the bus when they got caught short, according to the smell that wafts through every now and then.
Can tell we're back to the third world, when 100 metres from the bus terminal pick up lots more people, who are probably avoiding the 1.5 Bs terminal charge. We cruise the town picking up more passengers, and get to check the town out a bit. Looks better by daylight. There is a high hill with old mine workings on one side of town, and another with quite an elaborate Bolivian coat of arms picked out on rocks on it.
Terrain is pretty flat. Turns out we're not on the main road, as it's being rebuilt. Takes an hour to do 37 kms, as we've taken a long deviation. Pleased to get past the Cochabamba turnoff, as this is one of the main troublespots. Interesting experience with one of the local food-vendor women, who hops on with an enormous bundle which she proceeds to unwrap. It contains delicious-smelling chicken pieces and empanadas which look great, but we resist the temptation. She first feeds the driver and offsider (her bus-fare?), then does a good trade with the rest of the bus. Stays on for an hour, then gets off at a toll-booth, and is seen boarding another bus going the same way. Later another woman gets on, but obviously told the bus is already fed, but allowed to stay on after feeding the driver again (driver looks pretty well fed!)
Murray takes a photo of a local bus with a very high pile of goods on the roof (a level of transport we haven't used on this trip). Further up the road we come across a small town, with a very large market in progress in the main street, with lots of colourful ethnic people.



The road once again is under construction, and we have to go off on to an old, very rough road, which proves too much for our bald tyres. Have to stop and change tyre. Lots of work going on in the fields, with big groups, including children, taking part. Looks like getting ready for the wet season. The housing tended to be isolated houses with a walled yard and barn attached, rather than villages.
Getting close to La Paz, starting to see mountains with snow on them. Also starting to see signs of damage from the riots. Every hill crest seemed to have a billboard with a concrete base. Most of these have been knocked down, and the remains of them are now in the gutters in the cuttings at the top of the hills. We assume they were used for roadblocks, and have now been cleared.



We enter the outskirts of a major industrial town, which turns out to be El Alto (4,000 metres) the town on the plain above La Paz, where most of the people involved in the riots, live. Streets are very busy, and a big police presence with some signs of checking some incoming traffic We lose most of our passengers here including an enormously wide ethnic woman, with a skinny husband, and at least half a dozen enormous bales of second-hand clothing.
As we descend down into La Paz, which is 400 metres below, we are amazed at the geography of the city,



even though we've been here before, ten years ago. We're on the right side of the bus, and take lots of photos. Not a lot of riot damage, but cleaning crews are still at work along the road, and quite a few billboards are down, and a fair bit of the Armco guard rail in the middle of the road is missing.
Once again the bus terminal is quite secure, and we get a taxi straight to our preferred hotel, which is where we stayed last time. Taxi stops outside Rosario Hotel, which is more upmarket, and next door. We take this as an omen, and book in for US$37 (the price of our last three nights accommodation combined). For our extra money we get slightly more security, softer toilet paper, a remote with the TV, and pleasant surroundings with a good continental breakfast and free internet.
Feeling fairly cocky with our safe arrival, and obvious vindication of taking the risk in coming here, we put our valuables in the safe, and head out for a quick nostalgia look at the town. Was surprisingly familiar - hasn't changed in ten years. Quite a lot of security around the plazas (but no more than anywhere in Havana). Few spots of rain, and an enormous thunder clap that reverberated around the valley. Back to hotel, then out later for meal at El Lobo, which still has its menu in Hebrew as well as English and Spanish. Murray off to get CD's copied for 10 Bs each, including the disk, while Dianne does some Argentian research on the free internet. Good night's sleep, with no dogs or traffic.
Thursday 13th November La Paz-Buenos Aires (Argentina)
After good cold buffet breakfast, get taxi, called by hotel, for a VERY quick trip up the hill to the airport (both taxis in La Paz were driven very aggressively). Our 12.10 pm flight was half an hour late leaving, so use time to get diary right up to date, for first time.
Took much cloud to get good views of mountains close to La Paz, and food service is cancelled on first flight as we weave through a maze of thunderclouds. We're on the milk run, and our first stop is Arica, in the far north of Chile. Cross a very rugged, dry highlands to the coastal town of Arica. Have to get off plane and clear customs, which takes forever. Starting to worry about making our Santiago connection. Our next leg is to Iquique, further down the coast. Coastline looks quite interesting -lots of rocks and small bays with the mountains sloping straight from the high plain into the sea (looks like 1,000 metres of slope). Several interesting harbour towns on the way, and can see large mining operations on the high plane. No food served on this sector either, and as it's 4pm, we're getting pretty hungry. Surprised how big Iquique is, out in the middle of nowhere (even further North than Antofagasta, which we thought was the end of the earth). Afte Iquique get served a cold, toasted sandwich which under the circumstances tasted good. Can now salt lakes and volcanoes inland, but hard to tell whether they are Uyuni or not. Can also see major roads running along the coast and inland, but can't trace the road we took to get to San Pedro. Further south, some very high snowy mountains, and greener valleys. Approaching Santiago, even the hills are starting to look green, and the valleys quite lush with crops and lots of poplar tree wind breaks. Murray takes lots of photos (advantage of digital camera). At Santiago airport, walk for kilometres. Have to go through immigration again, then back to where we started, and through check-in. Arrive at gate 10 minutes before boarding. Flight over Santiago had excellent views of mountains, snowfields and deep valleys. All of the Eastern side was in shadow now, so didn't see much of Argentina. Looked like lot of towns spread all over the plain.
Into Buenos Aires airport about 9.30pm. We organise an expensive, but hopefully safe, pre-booked taxi for US$17, and have a long, but speedy trip to our internet-booked studio. Think we may have been done a bit, but was definitely better than pounding the streets looking for bed at 11pm at night. Have a hot shower, and collapse into bed, to watch cable TV, and eventual sleep about 1 am, after promising ourselves that we're going to take it easy for a few days. Walking 2 kms
Fri 14th Nov Buenos Aires
Down for the world's smallest free continental breakfast about 10am, then out to investigate the town. We're staying on Uruguay St, near Cordoba Ave, which is quite close to the centre of town. Wend our way down to Florida St, to the mall, and upmarket shops, including Galerias Pacifico.. Lots of enormous old grand buildings. Up to Plaza San Martin, where we're overcome by the lushness of the greenery, after the last few weeks of barren landscape. The jacarandas are in bloom, and there's a feeling of spring in the air, with the locals in the parks with their tops off. Weather is warm, but there's stil a chill in the shade. Long uninteresting walk to Puerto Madero, the dock area which has been renovated, with the 19th century warehouses being turned into a long line of upmarket restaurants. In the spirit of taking it easy, we stop for a 3-course set lunch, with coke each, plus 1/2 litre of cheapest wine, for total of 45 pesos or A$22. Excellent food, which is really appreciated after some of our recent meals. Head back to our room via Parque Colon, near where some protestors are being heavily policed. Back to our room, after our 8 km circuit, where the effects of the lunchtime wine take their toll, and we have an afternoon sleep. Out about 10pm to upload this onto travelpod. Once again, internet is cheap here (about A$0.50c per hour)