¨There might be a party here next week¨

It really figures that I would find a fast internet connection in Bolivia, but then not have my hard drive work to be able to upload pictures! I really was planning on it, but I digress...

Jan Willem, the Dutch cyclist we sometimes have ridden with, often asks me what was my favorite part of the trip so far since he and Gudrun have basically done the same route. I was honest in my answer when I said I wasn't really sure since there have been so many fantastic places that we've passed through. However, that being said, I would have an answer for him the next time the question pops up: the valleys of central Bolivia.

One a tangent, there is a reason why I did not update the blog in Sucre. I didn't want to raise any alarms because I wanted to tell it like it is. Our museum tour guide provided the quote at the top of this post, ¨There might be a party here next week¨. Protesting seems to be a national passtime, only after soccer, of course. There is always some sort of protest going on every day in every large city I've been to thusfar. The general road blockades were a bit different. At one point I asked if there was the possibility of a civil war in Bolivia to which the guide responded, yes. Basically, there is a power struggle between La Paz and the rest of the country. It reminds me of the city-states of ancient Greece in which various cities struggle for power over the whole country, in this case La Paz, Sucre, and throw Santa Cruz into the mix.

As it stands, Sucre is the constitutional capital of Bolivia, but La Paz is the de facto capital, where comrade Evo Moralez resides. Ever since Evo took the presidency, things have gone downhill a bit. Last November, the mass protests were actually able to push out the government forces from the city of Sucre. Upon leaving, however, the police opened the doors of the city prison and evidence suggests actually helped the convicts before evacuating themselves. The city was left to anarchy for 6 days before the forces came back to attempt to restore order. This was not before they warned the city that the next time similar protests were to happen, they would use lethal force. Fast forward to my visit!

The truckers created a general blockade in every city in the country (consisted of dozens of transport trucks parking their vehicles across the roads leading out the cities in an irregular pattern to prevent anything bigger than a motorcycle from getting through) . To get from city to city, people would have to either take a flight, or take a taxi/bus up to the blockade, walk across, and then catching a waiting taxi/bus on the other side. Transporting goods across was basically impossible. Bicycles, myself and my companions included, were free to pass through and in my experience actually cheered on by the protesters who seemed to have created a festive atmosphere at least when I went through, at the start...

Sucre, Cochabamba (the next destination), Santa Cruz formed the heart of the blockade, but it also extended to La Paz. Since those are the only cities linked by paved roads, the whole country was for the most part affected. The day after we left, however, the government and protesters had talks and things calmed down for the moment and probably long enough for me to get out of the country before anything errupts. Ah, Bolivia, what a place! Back to the ride.

Potosí is the world's highest city, at over 4000m altitude (the place runs up a hill, so it ranges from 4000 to 4300). Sucre sits at a gorgeous 2500m, a vertical mile difference in altitude. So between Potosí and Sucre is one hell of a downhill!! We rode out of the city and easily passed through the blockades, which actually worked in our favor to reduce traffic en route to Sucre. The first day started with a beautiful descent over about 80km that gradually put us onto a flat pampa-like plain staring into a valley system, behind which lies the Amazon, which we would soon plunge into. This is where I curse the computers here again, because the pictures, while simply amazing, can't even begin to capture the spectacular scenery that we experienced. First and foremost, it was much warmer. This was my #1 grievance, the cold of the antiplana, aka puno, aka plateau over 4000m that was freezing at night. Imagine the smile on my face when I got to wear just a short-sleeve shirt and riding shorts, only, for days on end since leaving Potosí. One we entered the valley, it was a repitition of plunging deep down by the river, riding downstream or upstream, and then climbing 1000+ vertical meters every day only to repeat. The descents, the climbs, everything was spectacular. Riding at the bottom and craning my neck up to the ridgelines on either side of me, the faces of the hills dotted with cacti, the ever-increasing amount of tropical vegetation, and of course the tiny settlements with farm animals and small plots of land for growing crops, all of this combined is why this area is my favorite of South America as a whole.

The two days toward Sucre passed by without incident, but I did have a sore throat on the ride, so I wasn't 100% happy with the ride. Arriving in the city, I found myself somewhat unimpressed at first. When I was able to walk around a bit, I quickly turned my opinion around 180 degrees. One of my favorite aspects of Sucre were the nightly high school parades that just seem to form and snake down the streets complete with dancers and a small band formation, traffic be damned. I loved seeing cars pull into one street, see the procession, and the put the gear into reverse and seek another way. Makes walking down the street quite easy as well. I also learned to appreciate the older colonial architecture, with most of the buildings' walls painted white in the center of the city. Then, there was the beautiful market. For a pound of delicious goat cheese, $2. For a full meal, lunch or dinner, $1.50. For a mountainous fruit salad, $1, or a blended fruit milkshake, your choice of about 8 kinds of fruit solo or in combination, $0.30, and that includes a refill! We could eat and eat and eat, and never get bored of the Bolivian gastronomy. Yummy!

The blockade on the way out of Sucre was just as easy to get through, though the people seemed less friendly. On the way toward Cochabamba (featured in the movie Scarface for one chapter at least), it was more of the same beautiful valley system. Day 1 - fantastic, downriver, paved, bottoms out at 1700m. Day 2 - horrible, uphill 40km straight, not paved and quite dusty, scenery not as nice, and my ass hurt. Day 3 - oh my god, what a jaw-dropping valley, mega-downhill, followed by a mega-uphill when we got out of valley on the other side. Day 4 - still beautiful area, but is this the road that never stops going up? We climbed back up to 3400m!! Heaven forbid I have to put on a jacket to complete the ride. The winds were also like those in Patagonia, literally whipping the Amazonia cloud system up and over the mountain toward us, and unfortunately not at our backs. Day 5 - We only have a bit to climb before reaching the top at 3700m, and then it's on our way to Cochabamba at 2500m. Oh do I love cashing in my gravitational potentail energy!! The 90km passes by quickly and even without the serious downhills, I am motivated to haul ass along the way partly because a few rain drops are falling, the first since Iguazu.

The city of Cochabamba, while not anything special, is a launching point for the the next and final portion of my trip in South America. Markus wanted to leave with the Dutch and French couples, and I chose to stay and rest a day after all the climbing of the past few days. Tomorrow morning, I will bus into La Paz, and from there decide where to next. We have plans to visit Lake Titicaca, perhaps climb a 6000m peak, riding down Bolivia's 'death road' toward a place called Rurrenbaque (sp?) from which I plan on doing a jungle and pampas tour that will take my via riverboat into the Amazon to see, among other things, gators, caymans, anacondas, pirhanas, capybara (one of the coolest names for an animal), jungle plants, birds, and butterflies to name a few. After that, it's back to La Paz, and then probably up to Lima to come home! (tickets are less expensive from there than from La Paz, by about half)

So there you have it, the past week, and the future weeks all laid out. Will update when Markus and crew arrive in La Paz in about 5 days. Ciao till later.

Potosí: history, mines, and dynamite!

About a week back, thankfully, Markus arrived safe and sound in Uyuni. He had gotten a bit sick one day while I was holed up in bed, but it wasn't as severe as what I experienced. We took a day trip to the Salar, 30km out and 30km back. It was quite the surreal experience, since when you get into the world's largest salt flat, you see nothing but white salt for as far as the horizon spans. Traveling around is quite easy, just pick a direction and go! There are some pathes that the cars take, in which the ground is a little more compact than the regular salar, so we try to take those when possible. However, sometimes it was just fun to just change your vector and ride at a given angle away from the others. As soon as we had gotten out far enough, we set up 'camp' and started taking the obligatory perspective pictures (to be posted sometime either by me or Markus). While the Dutch were holding their bicycles in their hands, Markus was the missing primate link next to the cover of Darwin's 'The Descent of Man'. Later we were all standing on a banana, but not before Gudrun was holding Jan Willem in her hand who was pinching Markus like a pixie between his two fingers, who I was subsequently punching. Unfortunately during this time, I had forgot to apply sunscreen and the reflection was certainly doing its damage. On the ride back, instead of heading back to the road to Uyuni, Markus and I just rode along the salar. There are various types of salt, some are nice and smooth, while others have little mounds or bacon-like waves of salt that crunch or pop like popcorn. We came across a little bubbling spring in the Salar, and later some dead flamingos with single eggs sometimes lying on the ground (I found 6 of them). We arrived shortly before sunrise, and ate llama steaks that night along with a burger at the corner stand. Total cost: $3.



The next day, instead of riding out toward Potosí as the Dutch did, Markus and I (mostly my decision) decided to stay another day. My face was blistering from the salar sunburn, so I wasn't in any rush to really get back on the bike and in full view of the solar radiation raining down at us near 4000m. The following day, we did set off on what would become a 3.5 day journey up toward Potosí, one that was ladden with significant passes (5+ miles in length, going up the mountains). To be honest, I was sick of them by the third day since every descent into a valley, however beautiful and colorful the formations were, meant another climb right out. The roads were surprisingly good, with only some sandy parts in which we had to get off the bike and push. The tailwind almost the entire way also helped quite a bit, so I really can't complain there. There were many small villages, various houses with llama heards, and ruins along the way in which we camped each night. The first two nights were quite warm, the third night froze the water bottle inside my tent. However, my new blanket purchased in Uyuni certainly meant nights were quite toasty in comparison to Laguna Verde. On the last day, we had to cycle only 30km into Potosí. Even though my first sight of the city was one in which my neck was craned upward (Potosí is the highest city in the world, depending on the definition of a true city, of course), I was quite excited to pedal up to the center because I saw pavement for the first time since Chile!



I must say, Potosí is my favorite city in South America thusfar. It's history dates back to the Spanish colonial times in which at one point, the Cerro Rico (rich mountain) was the heart of the Spanish crown's wealth. There in the hills, silver flowed out of the hundreds of mines that were dug over the years. Though coins were created and shipped to Spain, it was said that the cargo was really the blood and tears of the native and slave miners forced into labor. Thousands of people had died inside and because of the mines, and many more continue to do so today. At the Casa de Monedas, a museum the size of a city block, many of the minting machines from the various years were preserved and set up for display, among other exhibits. We saw how coins were first stamped by hand using a hammer, which I also did at the end using a brass blank purchased from the gift shop, to more modern and uniform methods of production when Bolivia gained its independence in the early 1800s, and other exhibits displaying artifacts from around South America including child mummies. Today, Bolivia money is created by Spain, France, Canada, and one or two other countries. Ironic how Spain robbed Bolivia blind, and now Bolivia purchases its own currency from Spain. Given its history, once the world's richest city because of the mines, it really has a European feel with narrow streets and architecture that pre-dates the last century.

The highlight of the trip into Potosí so far has been the tour to the mines. This isn't one specifically and only designed for tourists, rather it is one that visits a working mine. We met the miners who had been working underground for generations back, often many of them starting when they were 13 years old (I saw more than one child working) until their death usually around 45 years of age. It's almost a curse to be born into a miners family, for the boys will work with their brothers, father, and uncles, while the girls will eventually marry and become young widows. The mines are privately operated, with claims passed down through generations, and the ore sold to companies who extract the silver, zinc, and lead, which is then sold around the world. As such, safety is in the hands of the miners themselves. Cave-ins and succumbing to poisonous gasses from the dynamite are not unheard of. Before arriving at the mine, we bought coca leaves, 2L bottles of soft drinks, and dynamite from the miners. Yes, you can buy dynamite off the street. With each miner we talked to or came across, a little gift was given by one of the 'gringitos' on the tour. Entered the blood-stained mine entrance (llamas are sacrificed every once in a while), it wasn't long before we were ducking and soon crawling through the shafts to get down to the lower levels in this one particular mine. El Tío, or the devil, is actually honored and paid homage to since he owns the minerals and he controls the fate of the miners. When certain miners are extremely lucky in finding rich deposits, the other miners say that particular group made a pact with El Tío. Randomly during the tour, brothers would come by dragging a mine cart along the track, at least one of whom was 13 or 14. We gave them a 2L as they went by. Descending deeper and deeper, the air became hotter, and the dust made breathing a conscious task. Thankfully, nobody had a bought of claustrophobia, because we would have been in trouble otherwise. The miners typically eat 3-4 plates of food for breakfast, and then again at night when they come out. Inside the mines, they chew coca leaves to keep them awake and their throat lubricated, important because of the dust in the air, the same dust that will eventually kill them. When we were sitting to take a break, we heard some shouts in Quechua (sp? the Inca language) from a shaft no more than 20m away. About a minute latter, a large explosion was simultaneous heard and felt by each of us. The dynamite created toxic gases that rendered that particular area a no-go zone for an hour. So when the old miner who had been working for about 40 years came out, he told us through our guides that he had to scramble up from level 4 to level 3 in the minute it took the fuse to detonate the dynamite. There, I gave him the rest of my coca leaves, which he sat chewing until we left. I must admit, I was not sad by any means to start ascending toward the surface, to breathe fresh air and to see the sunlight again. I'm pretty sure the others on the tour shared the same sentiment. Would I go back? No, but it was an experience well-worth it nevertheless. At the surface, we had the opportunity to blow up the dynamite we had purchased for ourselves. We learned how to prepare the dynamite including the detonator, fuse, and ammonium nitrate to give the explosion extra power. When the fuse was lit, we passed the dynamite around quickly taking pictures before our guide sprinted off, and sprinted back. Then we waited for the explosions to occur about 50 yards away, just down the hill from the mining area. I couldn't help but think of Iraq after hearing the explosion and seeing the dust cloud rise 30m into the air. Back in town, Markus and I found the local market and purchased fresh fruits and veggies, chocolate and candies, wonderful goat cheese, and some baked sweets from a street vendor before wandering through the maze of vendors selling everything from underwear and shoes to facial products and perfume. Bolivia, if you can stand the cold, offers one of the most colorful and stimulating experiences in South America. I really wish I could stay longer in Potosí, but tomorrow we leave to Sucre, which is supposed to be even more beautiful with its whitewashed colonial architecture. It's about 4000ft lower in elevation too, which means that much warmer. Woohooo!!!