Bo-livin´ it up

After several days in La Paz partying and eating delicious ethnic foods (every ethnic group but Bolivian), we hit the dusty, bumpy, rocky road in a crowded bus to Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca. It was pretty similar to most bus rides in Bolivia or Peru: cramped, old bus that smelled funny and took way longer than the map (and the tour bus agency) would indicate. The one surprise came when they made us all get on a boat (!) and cross a lake without any of our belongings. We figured out what was going on when we saw our bus on a tiny raft crossing next to our boat. What a goofy sight...a bus on a pallet with water up to its wheels slowing motoring across a sacred lake.

Copacabana is a quaint little lake side town high (12,500 ft) in the Andes with a gorgeous basilica. The main industries appear to be hat selling, yelling about hats for sale, hat making, and tourism. There is also good Bolivian food (a thousand types of trout for each of your hats) and very inexpensive hotels. Like most people, we spent little time in Copacabana and got on the first ferry out to Isla del Sol (Sun Island).

Isla del Sol is, according to the Incan creation myth, the place where the sun god gave birth to the first Incan people. As such, the island is sacred and there are many Incan temples across the rocky, terraced mountainous island. In some nooks, there are beautiful white sand beaches and shallow turquoise waters for swimming. Given the altitude, we suspect the water is quite frigid most of the year. We had a big hike planned from one end of the island to the other, and thus had little time for turning our toes into icicles.

The main businesses on Isla del Sol are subsistence farming and tourism, but the tourism aspect can be particularly annoying. As you hike across the island, you are stopped by one person selling a ticket to get on to the trail and four people who subsequently check the ticket. No wonder it costs 8 bolivianos! Later, more people try to sell you tickets and then check them. Some of them are valid (and you have to pay or incur the wrath of the non-existent police force) but others are simply fakes sold by opportunists. Seriously annoying.

We had to come back to La Paz after only two days in Copacabana in order to keep on our now hastened schedule. We´re finally running out of time after 8 months on the trail and still have so much to see! Thus, we came back to La Paz and got on a plane to Rurrenabaque in the jungles of Beni, Bolivia´s largest department. We arrived in Rurre (as anyone in a hurry calls it), grabbed a hostel, and relaxed by a pool drinking piña coladas. The next morning, our tour through the flooded grasslands (Pampas) started at 9 a.m. We chose to go on a Pampas tour over the actual rainforest tour because we´ve both already been twice to various parts of the Amazon and in the Pampas there is a much better chance of seeing wildlife. Specifically, we were on the hunt for anacondas (Tori wants to wrestle one) and pink dolphins (Stew wants to cuddle one). From Rurre, we sat in the back of a sketchy white van for three hours (oh, how we reminisced about college) before we got to a river. We then took a canoe with an outboard motor for two hours and saw lots of wildlife. There are many alligators, black caimans, stinky turkeys, herons, eagles, hummingbirds, tucans, squirrel monkeys, turtles, red howler monkeys, capybaras, and the uber spectacular pink dolphin. We even got to swim with pink dolphins. Apparently, dolphins do not like to play with alligators or caimans and will kill them if they try to chill by their pool (much like the surfers in Point Break) which means it is safe to swim wherever the dolphins are.

The lodge was budget and we experienced some of the worst beds of our trip, but after the exhausting tours, they seemed amazing nonetheless. The only bad part was the rat poop over our mosquito nets, which appeared to have been dropped by a capybara (the largest rodent in the world, after Dick Cheney). The food was great and more or less plentiful, the bathroom worked and had a seat, so there were no real complaints. Except, of course, for the rowdy Brits hollering until all hours of the night with the MIA fueled parties. Wish we´d been in that tour group...

The main activities were anaconda hunting, dolphin swimming, and piraña fishing. They were all fun and increasingly succesful. This is easy when compared to the utter failure that anaconda hunting was. The day we went was cloudy and the anacondas (particularly lazy creatures) were chilling on their couches in a much warmer place. Still we battled the thigh, or for Tori, eye brow high grasses. We waded quietly through the swampy waters searching under every bush and copse for anacondas, but found only frogs, eggs, giant snails, and baby birds. I suppose it wasn´t a complete failure, but it was far from a success. We came back muddy and disappointed.

That afternoon, we went swimming with dolphins. Dolphins are known for being playful (especially with themselves) and they seemed to be having a good time with us. They would come up to the surface invitingly and play around with each other. As soon as we jumped in the water they´d swim a little ways down the river and then disappear. We´d follow, only to see them surface a hundred meters in the opposite direction. We all got pretty tired trying to keep up with them but Stew thinks dolphin cuddling only occurs on their terms. Nonetheless, we got very close to them and saw lots of their tiny little pink bodies. They rule.

Piraña hunting went well: we all caught lots of pirañas, electric stinging cat fish (fo´real, they exist, and are no joke. Also, what a great name for a band), and sardines. We couldn´t eat them because we were in a protected part of the river. They were all very little and it´s better for the environment to leave them in the river anyway.

We took the boat back, then the van, relaxed in Rurre for a day with our Finnish friends, and then waited 5 hours for our delayed plane. This happens frequently because the airport has a grass landing strip, so any rain throws a wrench in the works. This despite the incredible reputation of the Fairchild aircraft we were flying on. Due to our delay, we missed our bus to Uyuni and spent another night in La Paz. Today we´re going to the rest of the museums and taking the night bus to the salt flats. W00t!

High in La Paz

We arrived at the Bolivian/Argentinean border on a Sunday, and when we arrived the Argentine immigration officers assured us that as long as we had 135 dollars each, we would easily enter Bolivia that night. When we got to the other side, and discovered that Bolivian immigration consisted of 15 year old kids playing video games and one very old man, we got a little worried.

Apparently, the man in charge of issuing visas had decided to call it a day long before we even arrived. The 15 year olds made a few phone calls at the old man's behest, and we settled in to wait. As the minutes ticked by, and upon realizing that we could not reenter Argentina for a full 24 hours, Tori got pretty nervous. Stew magically stayed cool, and sure enough, about 30 minutes before the immigration office was due to close, the visa man arrived. He barely glanced at our carefully prepared materials (passport photos, hotel reservations, plane tickets, ect), took our money, and waved us through. In all, it took about 10 minutes.

Crossing the border into Bolivia was like entering an entirely different world. Suddenly the streets were filled with vendors selling every type of plastic and woven crap you could want, the smell of street food (and, in some sketchy corners, stale urine) filled the air. We ambled up to the bus station and bought two tickets for the night bus to Tarija. The tickets only cost 5 dollars, and the trip was 7 hours.

We arrived in Tarija early the next day after a freezing, bumpy, semi terrifying ride. Bolivian buses are a lot more like the old school buses that we rode in Central America than the luxury liners of Argentina and Chile. Alas, no wine service here. We spent an hour or so stumbling groggily around Tarija looking for accommodation. We opted for the place that our guidebook claimed had super hot showers. Its cold in Bolivia, and cold showers in cold weather are pretty miserable. Unfortunately, this place also ended up having an unbelievably wonky bed. Pobrecito Stew ended up sleeping on the floor that night.

Tarija, the so called Andalusia of the Andes for it’s Mediterranean climate and wine production, ended up being a pretty boring place. We struggled to find interesting things to do, especially since we were unimpressed by the wine and didn’t think a wine tour would be worth it. I guess it’s hard to be impressed by wine after Salta, especially if you’ve visited it with Tori’s mom!

After Tarija, our next stop was La Paz, the highest capital city in the world. We’d heard that La Paz has a raging night life, and being that Stew’s 21^st was mere days away, we hopped on another (equally if not more freezing) night bus. We found incredibly cheap accommodation on arrival, which, of course, made us very happy.

Our first day in La Paz was spent acclimatizing. At nearly 12,000 feet above sea level, most tourists that come here experience some form of altitude sickness. Neither of us got it too bad, but perhaps that is because we followed local advice, which is to eat little, do little, and drink little. We also took good ol’ Western medicine, Diamox. Nonetheless, walking up La Paz’s many hills left us embarrassingly winded.

After a full day of rest, we decided we were up for a little nighttime sightseeing. We walked down to the Witches’ Market, a section of the city where old women in various stages of decay sell dried llama fetuses (among other things) in various stages of decay. Also for sale were dried monkey heads, various multi colored powders, amulets, charms, and cheap touristy crap. We wandered the streets both in awe and grossed out. If anyone is in dire need of a llama fetus…there’s no way it’s going in our bags.

Craving a little companionship, we moved from our ultra cheap hostel into a backpackers’ hostel. It’s called Adventure Brew, and though it’s a little pricey, it rules. You get one free microbrew per day, and they’re tasty! The crazy Texan brewmaster is quite a gem. Our first day at Adventure Brew we got as much tourism in as possible. First we visited the Coca Musuem, where we learned all about Coca and Cocaine production in Bolivia and the world. We learned that United States is responsible for 50 percent of cocaine consumption in the world, and still produces one ton of cocaine per yer, legally. We also learned that while the pope has condemned cocaine usage, he fully supports the production of cocaine infused wine. In fact, it deserves a medal. Hmmmmm….

We also went to a contemporary art museum, and attempted to go to an archaeology museum. With our luck, at least one museum we desperately wanted to see had to be closed…Instead of visiting the archaelogy museum, we walked around La Paz’s famous plazas, and saw the Presidential Palace, which is still riddled with bullet holes from Bolivia’s last 3 coups. Also, we discovered that all of the traffic cops in downtown La Paz wear animal costumes. This means a zebra, cow, elephant, or virtually any other creature, ventures out into the street in the crazy traffic to wave pedestrians across.

That night for dinner, we treated ourselves to some absolutely scrumptious Indian food. We had to wait a while for a table, which led to much beer drinking, which is always dangerous at high altitude. By the time we could order, we were ready to eat pretty much everything on the menu…which we did. Don’t worry, Moms, there was enough left over for a full lunch for 3 the next day!

The next day was Stew’s 21^st birthday, which we were determined to celebrate in high style. We eschewed the dorm and booked our own private room, had a pancake breakfast, and slept in. Our first real activity of the day was the beer spa, which is a bathtub above a fire filled with beer. The bar manager poured beer all over us while we sat in the tub. It was righteous. The beer spa also included a free pitcher (five pints) of beer, which we enjoyed in our beer bath tub. This was clearly the right way to start the day. Then, we partied.

Yesterday, the day after Stew’s birthday, we did nothing but watch movies and recover. After the previous night’s activities, we felt we had earned a day of rest. Today, we will go to watch an all female traditional wrestling tournament, the battle of the Cholitas.

Love,

Tori and Stew

Visitors from another hemisphere

While back in Buenos Aires for the fourth and last time for at least a couple months/years, we met up with Mike and Claire for a rousing night on the town. We had yet to do BA nightlife properly and were determined to stay out at least until the party started at 3 a.m. Little did we know that the law had recently changed and bars now had to close at 5 a.m., making the notorious ¨party till noon¨scene a little less raucous. Most bars weren´t taking it seriously yet, though, and we managed to have a great night, eventually making it home just after dawn.

We started by meeting up with Mike at the world´s worst hostel: Tango Backpackers. We were murdered by bed bugs in this hostel a month ago and had found different accomodations. Mike still worked there so we drank some beers on the roof while eating takeout chicken dinners. Claire had crossed the border into Uruguay in order to abide by the terms of her visa (unlike Mike) and met up with us at the bar later in the night.

We started our party at a bar called Dada, with art that lived up to the name, including tasteful toilet sculptures next to the tables and menus made out of old Playboy magazines with random pictures pasted over the women (for example, a models head, a man´s chest, and a bicycle for legs). We continued to several other bars, none of which was particularly ground breaking but fun nonetheless. At last call, we got a bottle of champagne and some redbull, which we somehow thought was a good idea. To be fair, we were under the impression that the party would continue till noon and, given that it was 6 ish (who knows??), the red bull seemed necessary.

The next day, we left our hostel early to go meet up with Tori´s mom and sister. Their plane ended up coming in late and sans luggage, but this gave us some time to rest from our big night out. Lacking clothes, Ellen and Tori decided it was as good a time as any to go shopping. Stew tagged along and we all ended up with new outfits. Stew now has the most fashionable clothing of his life, his new waxed jeans having surpassed his previous fashion high of YSL sunglasses courtesy of Alex Clifford.

That night we went to dinner at another Frances Malmon restaurant called Patagonia Sur. The food was spectacular, as could be expected, and surpassed the previous night´s takeout chicken. Upon returning to the hotel, we watched Stew´s movie which Liz and Ellen had brought (courtesy of Stew´s family and Bruno Elias). We were really happy to finally see the movie and think it turned out really well. Eventually, it will be on the internet and all of you can watch it, too!

The next day, we flew to Salta. We met up with Adolfo who would be our driver for the next week and began the arduous trek to Maimara. The northwest of Argentina is the least developed region of the country and has notoriously poor roads. Imagine going to Montana and then heading as far into nowhere as possible...that´s where Maimara is. Thus, our two hour 60 mile journey wound up taking 3 hours. Still, we passed a fantastic dike, went through a rainforest, summited mountains, and generally enjoyed the scenery. The town of Maimara has little to offer on its own but the canyon (Quebrada de Huemaca) around it is comparable to the fabulous rock formations of the American Southwest. We had dinner at the open restaurant (the other was being renovated) and listened to not one but TWO folkloric bands performing Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel covers. Take that, culture appropriaters!

Much of the following day was spent driving through the canyons, admiring the rocks and occasionally climbing on them. We also visited an Incan ruin similar to the one we had seen in the nearby Atacama, though this one was fully restored and demonstrated how the houses would have actually looked. In the town of Tilcara, we grabbed a traditional lunch (except for Stew and Liz who shared a pizza). Stew napped while Tori, Liz, and Ellen went shopping.

While Tilcara is only a little bit bigger than Maimara, the quality of lodging and dining is much improved. We ate dinner in a great restaurant with the worst waitress in the world. After an incredible meal with great wine (none of it what we ordered), Tori confronted the waitress and manager in a hilarious and expert bout of Spanish swearing. We still had to pay, but Ellen learned a few new Spanish words.

Sunday was Easter and we woke early to watch the parade. Having been misinformed, we arrived three hours early for the parade, but still managed to see some people beating drums on their way to mass before the parade. Lacking the patience for mass (or maybe we were just in protest!), we walked away from church on Easter sunday and began the long trip south to Cachi. We had to completely backtrack and then continue another hundred kilometers past Salta. We stopped at the airport to look for Ellen´s luggage, but the airport was unsurprisingly closed. Adolfo sprang into action, calling all of his homies that worked for the airline, and managed to get the bag the next morning. Adolfo: more powerful than American Express and Argentinian Airlines combined.

We stayed the night at a place called Finca Santana. It was a beautiful house with excellent food and wine, but the aristocratic women that lived there were off the walls ridiculous. We enjoyed the delicious empanadas, which they made with paprika in the dough and stuffed with hundred dollar bills.

With morning came another long drive (all of these drives are less than 150 miles, but take an absurdly long time because we averaged 20-30 miles an hour), which we broke up by stopping to look at artisan crafts along the way. Much was rejected, but much was bought nonetheless. Ellen became enthralled by the tapestries produced by an artist named Mario, and returned the next day to buy him out.

We spent the next two nights in a vineyard/hotel combo named Colomé, which has a museum designed specifically for James Turrell´s light exhibits. We thought they were cool, but a little silly. The pool, the patio overlooking the vineyards, which doubled as a condor viewing area, and the rooms were all amazing. It was nice to stay in the same place for two nights. We went on a great wine tour with the wine maker and got to taste wine out of the barrels and tanks. Particularly cool were the comparisons between malbec from low/high altitude and new/old vines. We both have decided we don´t like spitting wine and that it belongs in the belly.

Cafayate was a nice re-introduction to society, as we stayed in hotel that was accessible by paved road. We had a great lunch at a boutique winery called San Pedro de Yacochuya, where we all wound up with a little too much wine for 1 p.m. Fortunately, there was a spa in the hotel to help alleviate the stress this caused us. Nothing like a massage to work out those tanins. Come dinner time, we were all too stuffed to eat, and compromised on another pair of wines.

Feeling refreshed in the morning, we set out for a vigorous day of wine tastings. COme 9:30, we were back on the circuit with the production manager of the winery (the wine maker was busy with the harvest), who let us taste wines that were only a few days old. It was more like juice than wine, which reminded Tori of drinking grapejuice at Passover. We stopped in town to get some famous empanadas with 12 different varieties (they came with a free bottle of Torrontes!) and some wine flavored icecream (cabernet sauvignon and torrontes).

Then it was on to the next winery. Once again, we got the special treatment, as this winery is not even open to the public for tours. Ellen works some magic. Here we realized that, while malbec is great, bonardo is the money grape.

Salta was our last stop of the Argentinian Northwest. We arrived early and spent a long day shopping and museuming. We saw mummies and ice children. Creepy and reminiscent of Peru. Ellen and Liz had to (sadly) leave this morning, and we miss them already. It was great to have someone from home come visit and we look forward to seeing them in Mexico in a few short weeks. Tomorrow, we will hopefully be in Bolivia, though by writing that we may have jinxed ourselves. We´re not sure if they give out visas on Sundays, so cross your fingers for us.

Love,
Tori and Stew