Tuesday, August 01, 2006
The Salars and the Altiplano
Salt, sand and a lot of lurid knitware ...at altitude
Finally some time to jot down the last few weeks, which have been a hectic journey from Argentina, through Chile, Bolivia and Peru.
Firstly, I am pleased again to report I have made it through Bolivia without suffering from food poisoning or being mugged or killed... doubtless I will now be kidnapped, stripped naked and left by the road - but then there are some people who'd pay a lot of money for that.
Having got stuck in Jujuy, (slightly reminiscent of a old East European city, but a resonable place to watch the World Cup final and go to the cinema for the first time in 6 months - X-men III - don't bother), Norwegian Chris and I finally made it out across the Andes and into salt flat territory. The journey takes you past two smaller salt flats in Argentina, before crossing the border to Chile to San Pedro, the Atacama desert and the salar of the same name. Not that the salt flat is the only thing to see: San Pedro is surrounded by spectacular scenery, with volcanes, geezers, and even some Inca ruins - all of which are a stones throw away, and all of which makes it a magnet for tourists, as reflected by London prices and, as a gringo, you are immediately addressed in English.
If you're visiting San Pedro a great place to stay is the Incahausi, a reasonably priced German run B&B. Also, the guidebooks say there are no ATMs in the pueblo but there is now one, which takes Mastercard and Cirrus, but not Visa.
San Pedro is also a starting point for trips into Bolivia, through more breath-taking landscapes to the Salar de Uyuni. Apparently it will take a million years before the footsteps are erased from the moons surface, and, if I remember correctly, the fine for just walking on the salt flat in Death Valley is $1000. So I can't help wondering what the impact of at least a half dozen or so 4x4's racing across the desert and salars in both directions every day must be. Theoretically the Uyuni Salar is rejuvinated every year when the rains wash the minerals out of the surrounding hills and flood the flats, but in some places the desert looks like a ploughed field from the tyre marks.
Top tip if you are doing the trip... take some tastey snacks with you, but let some air of the crips packets as they tend to explode at altitude...which I discovered all too late. The Dutch people travelling with us thought we were being shot at, but it was only my cheesey puffs making a bid for freedom in my bag.
We needed no reminding we were in Bolivia as in the very first town we reached there was a band playing - they love a bit of a marching band the Bolivians do. And it was good to reach Uyuni (although it's a cold, ugly and dirty town), but after 3 days of freezing temperatures, so-so food and accomodation, and although our driver/guide was great, members of the tour in the other two cars in our caravan had had to take over the wheel as their drivers were too drunk. To save face, one of the drivers insisted taking his vehicle back the last leg to the agency office in Uyuni, and then promptly drove in to a power pylon... maybe that's why the town was without electricity until 9pm that night..?
From Uyuni we dropped a few meters to Sucre, with the briefest stop in Potosi, once the richest town in the world due to the silver in them there hills. In Sucre, (a beautiful Colonial town with probably the best mercardo central I've been too - a warren of stalls and wonderful aromas), I met Vicky, an English teacher from Texas (no jokes now) and who also earned the title "my America mom" as she has a son the spitting image of me... yes dear reader, I sent commiserations to her family on your behalf.
Overnight from Sucre to La Paz: an amazing city filled with sprawling markets and a million souls all clinging to the side of a steep valley, and the shoe shine boys wear ski-masks to hide their identities, as percieved meanial workers... oh, and a very good Japanese restaurant, not to be dismissed because it is namesake to Wagamamas. I can understand why people get stuck in La Paz, you can wander the same streets and see something new every day.
From La Paz it's a short hop to Lake Titicaca, a place not only rich in trout but more Inca and Pre-Inca stuff you can shake a stick at. The first major players in the area based themselves at Tiawanaku, a must-see archaelogical site, along with the Isla del Sol, the funerial towers near Puno, and a bit of living (if commercialised) history: the floating islands - a throw back to when the Uros people took to the water on islands mades of reeds, to avoid neighbouring warlike tribes, and have stayed there ever since.
Once in Peru Norwegian Chris started on the guinea pigs, a local delicacey. Bear in mind her first language isn't English, but when the first roast fella arrived at the table, complete with head and legs, she said "It's sad enough that it comes like this, but now I'm going to violate it" - I said she could just eat it, but I think it was the Viking in her coming to the surface. For the record, I reckon you need a brace of guinea pigs to make a worthwhile meal, but to be honest they don't taste of much, not even chicken.
Peru is also the hub of the Gringo Trail and it's the first place I've been on a standard bus journey where the tourists have out numbered the locals. I'm used to seeing a huge chunk of the tourist contingency clad in ponchos and some very nice Andean knitware, but I was taken aback to see a guy sporting a mohawk haircut, black PVC jacket and trousers, and a Anti-Nowhere League "Nazi Punks F**K Off" t-shirt, swaggering the beachfront of Lake Titicaca. For a moment there I was back in Camden Town, 1984, keeping Alex company while he flogged posters outside Sid Strongs, and Benjy Biff got people to buy him cans of Red Stripe if he´d jump into the lock.
The next hop was to Cusco, which I'd been told had been built on the foundations of the Inca town, but it is utterly staggering how much of the original Inca stonework remains, and how much has been used in the walls of the cities buildings. But be warned, if you're ever in this neck of the woods, it's expensive, especially where the companies that have monopolies over the routes, trains, buses and entry fees to Machu Pichu exert them to a disgraceful extent, with the a lack of concern or service that had me mumbling into my beer about writing letters to the government.
However, this morning I arrived in Aguas Caliente and tomorrow I will visit Machu Picchu....and I'm very exicted!!!
Finally some time to jot down the last few weeks, which have been a hectic journey from Argentina, through Chile, Bolivia and Peru.
Firstly, I am pleased again to report I have made it through Bolivia without suffering from food poisoning or being mugged or killed... doubtless I will now be kidnapped, stripped naked and left by the road - but then there are some people who'd pay a lot of money for that.
Having got stuck in Jujuy, (slightly reminiscent of a old East European city, but a resonable place to watch the World Cup final and go to the cinema for the first time in 6 months - X-men III - don't bother), Norwegian Chris and I finally made it out across the Andes and into salt flat territory. The journey takes you past two smaller salt flats in Argentina, before crossing the border to Chile to San Pedro, the Atacama desert and the salar of the same name. Not that the salt flat is the only thing to see: San Pedro is surrounded by spectacular scenery, with volcanes, geezers, and even some Inca ruins - all of which are a stones throw away, and all of which makes it a magnet for tourists, as reflected by London prices and, as a gringo, you are immediately addressed in English.If you're visiting San Pedro a great place to stay is the Incahausi, a reasonably priced German run B&B. Also, the guidebooks say there are no ATMs in the pueblo but there is now one, which takes Mastercard and Cirrus, but not Visa.
San Pedro is also a starting point for trips into Bolivia, through more breath-taking landscapes to the Salar de Uyuni. Apparently it will take a million years before the footsteps are erased from the moons surface, and, if I remember correctly, the fine for just walking on the salt flat in Death Valley is $1000. So I can't help wondering what the impact of at least a half dozen or so 4x4's racing across the desert and salars in both directions every day must be. Theoretically the Uyuni Salar is rejuvinated every year when the rains wash the minerals out of the surrounding hills and flood the flats, but in some places the desert looks like a ploughed field from the tyre marks.Top tip if you are doing the trip... take some tastey snacks with you, but let some air of the crips packets as they tend to explode at altitude...which I discovered all too late. The Dutch people travelling with us thought we were being shot at, but it was only my cheesey puffs making a bid for freedom in my bag.
We needed no reminding we were in Bolivia as in the very first town we reached there was a band playing - they love a bit of a marching band the Bolivians do. And it was good to reach Uyuni (although it's a cold, ugly and dirty town), but after 3 days of freezing temperatures, so-so food and accomodation, and although our driver/guide was great, members of the tour in the other two cars in our caravan had had to take over the wheel as their drivers were too drunk. To save face, one of the drivers insisted taking his vehicle back the last leg to the agency office in Uyuni, and then promptly drove in to a power pylon... maybe that's why the town was without electricity until 9pm that night..?
From Uyuni we dropped a few meters to Sucre, with the briefest stop in Potosi, once the richest town in the world due to the silver in them there hills. In Sucre, (a beautiful Colonial town with probably the best mercardo central I've been too - a warren of stalls and wonderful aromas), I met Vicky, an English teacher from Texas (no jokes now) and who also earned the title "my America mom" as she has a son the spitting image of me... yes dear reader, I sent commiserations to her family on your behalf.
Overnight from Sucre to La Paz: an amazing city filled with sprawling markets and a million souls all clinging to the side of a steep valley, and the shoe shine boys wear ski-masks to hide their identities, as percieved meanial workers... oh, and a very good Japanese restaurant, not to be dismissed because it is namesake to Wagamamas. I can understand why people get stuck in La Paz, you can wander the same streets and see something new every day.From La Paz it's a short hop to Lake Titicaca, a place not only rich in trout but more Inca and Pre-Inca stuff you can shake a stick at. The first major players in the area based themselves at Tiawanaku, a must-see archaelogical site, along with the Isla del Sol, the funerial towers near Puno, and a bit of living (if commercialised) history: the floating islands - a throw back to when the Uros people took to the water on islands mades of reeds, to avoid neighbouring warlike tribes, and have stayed there ever since.
Once in Peru Norwegian Chris started on the guinea pigs, a local delicacey. Bear in mind her first language isn't English, but when the first roast fella arrived at the table, complete with head and legs, she said "It's sad enough that it comes like this, but now I'm going to violate it" - I said she could just eat it, but I think it was the Viking in her coming to the surface. For the record, I reckon you need a brace of guinea pigs to make a worthwhile meal, but to be honest they don't taste of much, not even chicken.Peru is also the hub of the Gringo Trail and it's the first place I've been on a standard bus journey where the tourists have out numbered the locals. I'm used to seeing a huge chunk of the tourist contingency clad in ponchos and some very nice Andean knitware, but I was taken aback to see a guy sporting a mohawk haircut, black PVC jacket and trousers, and a Anti-Nowhere League "Nazi Punks F**K Off" t-shirt, swaggering the beachfront of Lake Titicaca. For a moment there I was back in Camden Town, 1984, keeping Alex company while he flogged posters outside Sid Strongs, and Benjy Biff got people to buy him cans of Red Stripe if he´d jump into the lock.
The next hop was to Cusco, which I'd been told had been built on the foundations of the Inca town, but it is utterly staggering how much of the original Inca stonework remains, and how much has been used in the walls of the cities buildings. But be warned, if you're ever in this neck of the woods, it's expensive, especially where the companies that have monopolies over the routes, trains, buses and entry fees to Machu Pichu exert them to a disgraceful extent, with the a lack of concern or service that had me mumbling into my beer about writing letters to the government.
However, this morning I arrived in Aguas Caliente and tomorrow I will visit Machu Picchu....and I'm very exicted!!!
# posted by Barney @ 2:53 pm 
