People you can trust

Knowing who to trust in Bolivia is a complex business. Like I said, they will tell you anything in order to get you to buy their product.

After we were done with out tour, the guide dropped us of at the bus station so we could check on bus schedules and prices. As soon as we got of the can, people swarmed on us, trying to sell tickets from there to Mars, direct and connecting to up to three other planets.

Tal, Rosanne and I were off to La Paz, a twelve hour journey that would seen longer than my 70 hour bus ride from Santiago to Sao Paulo. Apparently, there were no direct buses to La Paz. We had to take a bus to Oruru and switch buses at 2 in the morning. The whole thing would cost 4 dollars.

Salt Hotel and the Garbage desert

After having missed out on Hadas naked, the voluptous Israeli, we headed to the salt hotel

Just like any other tourist trap, it is basically a house made of rock salt bricks, costing 50U$ a night. It was our lunch stop so I just sat down and ate some pure de tomate.

After lunch,we were supposed to head out to the train cemetery, which was lame. One thing was very impressive : the trash. The people of Uyuni put all their trash in plastic bags, drive five minutes into the desert and dump indiscriminately. In the desert there are tumble weeds and wind, the wind blows and the garbage bags end up ripping, leaving garbage as far as the eye can see. It is a pretty dumb thing to do.

Silly Salt Pictures

The immense whiteness of the salar prompts people to take some silly pictures. The unchanging background playes tricks wih our perspective and a dosage of creativity combined with a dosage of sillyness makes for some cool/corny pix. People holding others on the palm of their hands, or girls lifting cars are just a few of them.

After having taken almost an entire roll of slides of the cacti, Tal told me to rush over to one end of the island. I didnt quite understand what he wanted so I paid him no mind. He kept insisting so I rushed over with him but as I walked over, I ran into Avishai, the nasal sounding Israeli from Tupiza

I stopped to chat wit him for about 2 minutes and said I'd be back in a jist, after I saw what Tal so admantly wanted me to see. When I got to him, Shani's group, which had three other girls, were putting on their clothes, after they had decided to get silly in the salar and go for a naked photo session

I missed out !!!

It was the only I should ever have listened to Tal... and I didn't

A piece of land surrounded by salt from all sides

Isla del pescado is the only island I have ever been to that you can drive to without taking abridge or a ferry boat. Technically, it is not an island, since it is not surrounded by water. Still, it is undeniably an island.

The salar is absolutely flat, much like an ocean, and its whiteness makes it just as homogenous as an ocean.

I am telling you, if you close your eyes you can almost head the waves crashing in.

Much like an island, there is a very specific vegetation : cacti. The cacti is very different and it takes forever to grow. There is this one specific type of cactus that is 1200 years old. At 25 feet high, it grows about half an inch per year. It is amazing.

Salar: Day Four

Day four was our last and most exciting day, we were off to the Salar. We left our hospedaje at five o'clock in the morning so that we could watch the sum rise already on the vast white flats of salt.

The sunrise was nothing short of magnificent, The salar was huge and it feels like an injustice to try and write about it. There is no way I can put down on paper how oddly beautiful the salar is. After driving for and hour from the salar gates, we drove another hour so we could get to Isla del Pescado

Salar: Day Three

Day three was a day for rock formations. We would go to this one valley where the arbol de piedra was. The arbol de piedra or tree rock, is a strange area where volcanic activity combined with erosion and sand created mystical rock formations. One specific formation looks just like a tree, only it is all made of rock.

When we were about to leave this place, after taking a whole buncha cool pictures, Shani's group pulled up on their jeep. She came to me and said she wanned to thank me for the tea I gave her. It had made her feel better. I liked her.

Unfortunately, once again we didnt spend the night at the same spot and I didnt get to see her that night. I seemed like it wasn't meant to be.

The Skies

Another amazing thing about this trip was that it brought back my interest in the sky. In my sophomore year in college, I fucked up and curve for everybody in my intro to astronomy class. I have always enjoyed watching the stars, but living in the big city has made this habit practically impossible

With my newfound interest for camping, I was able to once again go star watching, making sense of constellations, planets and their motion across the sky.

At Puente del Inca, I saw six or so shooting stars in one night, the first one I saw went from one end to the horizon to the next. I had never seen anything like it.

The sky at Los Alerces cannot be described with words, much like Chalten's. One night at Poincenot the moon was so bright that there were shadows. I am not talking about half ass shapes, but full on shades of trees and rocks. I love Poincenot, my favorite place on earth.

When I came down from Chalten to restock on my supplies, I spent that night at the local campsite at the base of the mountain. That one night, people were moving their tents into shady areas in order to sleep better because it was too bright from the moon... that is amazing !!!!!

Salar: Day Two

I was only able to sleep for one hour, regardless of how nice or warm the beds were. Altitude is really a bitch fight off. I went to take a piss like five times last nite. On day two of the tour, I was tired, dehydrated and with a hell of a heartburn.

It was funny how they served us this fried egg that might as well have come with a side order of tums, yet I just couldnt say no to it. After all was said and done, it got me a heartburn that lasted two days.

Day two was a whole buncha lakes. Laguna Verde, Laguna Colorada and Laguna Blanca. Once again, Bolivia was all about colors, there were beautiful lakes with a whole bunch pink flamingos.

Altitude does take a toll on you. Besides not really being able to do anything that requires a bit more breathing, you get headaches, stomachaches and you cant sleep for longer than an hour..

I was looking forward to our second night because I had met a cute Israeli girl that was on another group, who I felt maybe was sending me some vibes. Her name was Shani

Our last stop before the alojamiento was a thermal bath in the middle of the desert. When we got there, Shani was kinda seating aside. I could tell she wasn't feeling well. We talked for a little bit and turns out she had altitude sickness, much like everybody else.

The only reason I felt a little better than the others was because I had drank like a liter of coca tea. To be honest, I was numb from the throat down. I convinced her to come and put her feet in the hot springs. We made little conversation. I liked her. In the end, I went to the car to get her a cup of tea.

Do you think it will help? she asked

You tell me if did later tonight. I replied

Usually, all groups spend the night at the same spot so I figured I'd see her later on that night. It is funny how backpacking experiences kinda change out perspectives. There I was, thinking about scoring with a girl when I hadnt showered in three days. I probably smelled of ass and she probably did too... Ohh well

Turn out that their group didn't stay in the same spot as we did so my plan ran afoul.

My heartburn was still kicking ass and taking names and I began to feel a presage of diarrhea... it was heaven on earth... :(

Salar: Day One

On day one we left Tupiza at 10:00 am on our way to the sillar, an amazing rock formation. It is beautiful not only for is formations, but also for its colors. Whenever you read a guide book about Bolivia, they always make reference to its colors, much like I did in the previous post. The combination of the type of earth and the altitude make for amazing landscapes.

The sillar was a breath taking spot. I was really excited because I was taking pictures with dia-positive slide film. I hope they will turn out great. The next stop was Paso del Diablo, a mountain top with red sand that is supposedly amazing. I wouldnt know, as I was stricken with high-altitude sickness and didnt even open my eyes, much less got out of the car.

When I made it to the place we were supposed to spend the night, I was really excited. The beds were nice and warm and we had plenty of time to sleep. It seemed like I had everything I needed: heat, water, beds. But at 17 plus thousand feet, the only thing missing was AIR...

Colores de Bolivia

Bolivia was indeed very different than Argentina. The mountains are all red with contrasting pieces of green patches that really do a great job at grabbing your attention. Typiza, at 10000 feet of altitude, was a beautiful place. Two of the Israeli kids that had crossed the border with us, Avishai and Shai, had decided to go to some other city nine hours away so they could save 30 dollars on the Salar tour.

Tal and I booked a tour for 95 U$, the average going rate. We would be out the next morning at 10 am.

The Salar is perhaps Bolivia's most famous tourist spot. Bolivia has all kinds of treks at 18000 feet of altitude, but the salar is very very unique. It is basically a six thousand square mile salt flat. It is much like a frozen lake, only it is all salt. The tour consists of four days running around the desert, looking for cool stuff.

With the tour, we get an experienced driver and a good cook, in our case Santiago and Dami. Other than Tal and myself, the group consisted of Colin and Carry, a couple from Oregon, Jeremy, a French salesman, and Rosanne, a nineteen year old Dutch woman.

Tupiza

From Salta, Itook a bus to Quiaca, Argentina's border town with Bolivia. Me and three israelis walked to the border check at six o'clock in the morning. One of the kids was named Avishai, a 21 year old Israeli who was fresh out of the military. He was always dancing and spoke in such a nasal way that you joust couldn't help but get a laugh out of it.

I still haven't made up my mind about how I feel about Israeli travelers. Some are friendly and welcoming, others brutish and overly in charge. The truth is, just like every other people, there are all kinds. Tal is another Israeli one. Very young but very good at heart. He talks exactly like my cousin Leo, even has the same accent. Tal is a cheap skate.

After we crossed the border, we walked to the bus station and caught a bus to Tupiza, where we would get a tour to the salar de Uyuni

Three hours in a dingy bus and we made it our destination. A little bit like Egypt, only milder, we swarmed by little kids who want to take us to some specific hostel in order to get a commission. In Bolivia, they will tell you whatever it takes to get you to buy what they sell. As we walked away from the station and in to the town, three little kids followed us all the way to the hostel. When we finally decided where we were going to stay, they rushed in and told the manager they had brought us there.

Se acabam las pilas

The thing about Bolivia that I was afraid of is that I had been traveling for a while and had begun to miss home. Not home home, as in my dad and his crew, but my ability to put up with dirty bathrooms, crooked beds, bumpy bus rides and sketchy meals was waning. Three or four months into it, I missed capoera, my mom and my sisters.

My hopes were that once I made it to Bolivia, the scenery change would recharge my batteries and I would find the energy I needed to make it to Cusco. However, I was afraid of the refrigerator phenomenon: when I was little (and poor) I had these battery operated toys and when the battery ran out, I used to go to my mom for new ones.

Put'em in the fridge. she'd say

I would run to the fridge, put'em tucked in all the way on the back and go wait for a little bit. After five minutes or so, I would slap'em back in my toys and they'd work like a charm... for about two minutes or so then they were dead again.

I feared Bolivia would be my metaphorical fridge. I would go in and get recharged at first, but I kinda felt my batteries wouldn't be able to carry me all the way.

Salta La Linda

Too bad for Luke that Salta la Linda (Salta the beautiful) wasn't actually that linda. Don't get me wrong, it was all right, but it stops at that.

People have told me that it is this very colonial place, with great architecture and very friendly people. Like I said, it was all right.

Luke managed to get over his cold feet and decided he was going to shoot back down to Mendoza and then find his way down to Bariloche, where I had initially suggested he should go. He was in for a forty one hour bus ride.

I too had my share of cold feet. Not that I was afraid of Bolivia, where I was heading to, but I was afraid of myself. I may have been running out of steem.

The London Fiasco

Roughly nine years ago, when I was a twenty year old freshman at Riverside Community College, I had about one thousand dollars on my bank account. I had met this guy who had sold me on this made up romantic image of backpacking as the ultimate expression of freedom. According to this jackass, all a backpacker ever needed was his backpack. He could go where ever he wanted, do whatever he felt like doing, eat whenever he was hungry . The backpacker was under no restrictions.

The only jackass that a was a bigger idiot that this guy was yours truly, the author of this blog, who actually bought all this crap as pure poetry. I got all the money I had and bought a ticked from L.A. to London. All I had was the intention to say fora week and 200 U$ in my pocket

My girlfriend at the time, Xochilt, had tried to advise against my going without as much as a phone call worth of preparation. Just so I can fully explain how stupidly unprepared I was, I will elaborate a little for you.

I had no guide book, map or address of a place to go to what so ever. I had a school backpack with 2 t-shirts, 2 pairs of underwear, a towel and a borrowed camera. I had no idea the British pound was worth almost twice the dollar and I figured the maximum I would pay for a nite at a hostel would be 10 dollars, which is 6 pounds.

Anyone who has ever been to London and is reading this is very likely to be rolling their eyes and foaming their mouths in laughter

I was so blind by the whole romantic "backpacking is freedom" crap that I felt that taking a guide book or making a reservation would go against the whole freedom thing. I felt it would be cheating.

So there I was, in Heathrew airport with 120 lbs and no a clue. A quick ride to downtown London and I was out 20 lbs. I began to look for places to stay but I couldnt find anything. It was getting dark and I was getting cold. A whopper meal at burger king and I was out another 10lbs. I found myself in a dark Picadilly Circus with no place to stay and 90 lbs in my pocket.

The whole freedom expression thing began to sound like a load of crap to me.

Another hour went by and I was scared shitless. I didnt know what to do and had no one to turn to. I went in the subway and saw these two tall blondes with a map on their hands. I walked up to them and explained my situation, asking if they knew of a place I could find a room. They told me of a subway stop around 30 minutes away, where I would find a place to crash.

I get to this place around 10 pm. It is a musty Allentown looking street, with smoke blowing off the sewage lids. I walked up to the first hotel I saw and it cost me 60lbs for a single with a shared bath. The room was tiny, the door couldnt even open all the way, as it hit the bed and forced me to slide sideways into it. Never in my life did I want to be back home so bad. I cried like a baby, feeling like I had been cheated out of my money by a stupid and naive idea of what being free really is about. I cried myself to sleep in my smoke smelling t-shirt and 25 pounds in my pocket.

The next day, London looked too inhospitable to me. I walked around for an hour and all I could think of was going back home to Riverside. I had gotten a 24 hour subway pass that was going to expire in one hour, which was an hour longer than what I wanted to be in London for. I went back to the airport and boarded the next flight to LA, which cost me a 100U$ change fee. After I tallied up the whole thing, two days cost US1100US. When I made it to LA, I was so ashamed by the whole thing that I changed the dates on the English stamp on my passport and made it look like I was there for month, even though I knew no one would ever even notice.

Going to a foreign country is not a simple thing. I spoke the language and a 100 thousand dollar limit credit card... and I still managed to freak out.

Imagine what Luke must have felt like. He was two years younger than I was went I went through this fiasco. He was fresh outta high school into Santiago, Chile, without speaking a word of Spanish. No wonder he was freaking out.

When he asked me if he could come to Salta with us, I knew exactly how he felt. All I did to him was what I wish someone would have done to me that spring break in London...

Of course you can come with me, it will be fun. I answered when he asked if he could join me.

So after I found out there was no room for me in Matze's bedroom, Luke and I were off to Salta.

Salta and Luke

Do there you have it, there was no room for my mayo in this peanut butter jelly sandwich.

Like I said before, sometimes you play, sometimes you get played. To be quite honest, I dont even think I got played. Often times we read too much into stuff, or misread friendliness for flertatiousness (if there is such a word) I think a good way to look at it is, quoting the great Scottsman Mark Knophler "sometimes you are the windshield, sometimes you are the bug". I eventually met the fortunate Mike and he actually was a nice guy. We hung out for a little bit and I couldnt come up with one bad thing to say about the guy.

I felt good about the whole thing. I love girls just like any other guy, but it is much nicer when we can make a connection with a girl that makes it more than physical. So I didn't get the girl... it is not the first time and probably wont be the last.

Gotta roll with the punches

At least I wasn't scare shitless, like Luke was...

Luke was this Aussie kid I had met my last day in Mendoza. Towering at almost 6'10'', he was a lanky 18 year old fresh outta Adelide.

After landing in Santiago, Chile, he rushed to Mendoza, hoping to feel more at home in a smaller town. His hopes were frustrated as you could tell he had no clue about what he was doing in South America.

I spent a good hour talking to him about places to go and things to do. I recommended Bariloche, which was way more friendly and abounded with kick ass things to do. After explaining all there was to know about Bariloche, even my unborn nephew Pedro could make it there, yet I still sensed Luke had cold feet about it.

Bariloche was twenty hours South of Mendoza, with lakes, mountains and ice-cream shops that are to die for. Salta was 20 hours North, with flat horizons and Bolivia at its doorstep.

After I gave him my very long pitch about how he should head down to Bariloche, he asked me:

Where are you heading ?

Salta, I replied.

Can I come with?

I could have said I was going on a mission to colonize Mars and he still would have asked to come along. I can't blame him, it ain't easy being a first time traveller. I will tell you one thing, he was doing much better than I ever did on my first backpacking trip... my very own London Fiasco !!!

The Bomb drops

We hung out the rest of the afternoon. I was willing to be played here, for she was worthwhile company. Still, I did want to know how much I was getting played. I figured we all get played at some time or another. Sometimes we play, sometimes we get played. I just didnt want to be played for a total fool.

We went to get tickets to Salta, but they were already sold out.

I know you wanted to leave today, she said, but I am so glad they are sold out.

Yeah, why?

Because we will get to hand out together one more night

Cool. I am in, I though.

I should get back to the hostel quickly, I dont know if they are all booked and I need to find a place to stay for tonite.

And right then and there the bomb dropped.

Speaking of booking, since I dont speak Spanish, can you please speak to someone at the front desk about booking a double room from Mike and me, we dont want to share the room or get disturbed !!!!!!!

And with that, I end this post.

Darn emails

The next day, I basically hung out at the hostel, waiting for Matze to come back so we could go get tickets to Salta.

I spent the whole afternoon puzzling over whether or not there was some up between us. Funny thing about traveling is that because relationships your develop are multi-cultural, it is hard to tell what is what. What may look like an obvious green light by your standards is an innocent gesture by someone else's; turning an otherwise simple exchange into a complex riddle

Right when I had given up on making sense of the whole thing, she came back from her shopping spree.

Dija buy the whole store? I asked

You make fun of me?

Never !!!!!

I need to talk to you, she said

I am all ears.

It is important... I got this email

Ohhhh shit, here it comes. I can smell these derailing moments from a mile away

This friend of mine is coming to Mendoza tomorrow

Yeah !!!

I thought maybe I would wait another day.

I was confused. This friend, is it a guy friend or a girl friend. Would it be a boyfriend? I didnt mind going alone, but as much as I didn't want to be a third wheel, I also didnt want to blow a nice thing with this incredible chick.

We talked a little bit more, when I unsuccessfully tried to figured out who this friend was. We basically agreed I would head to Salta on my own, but would meet up with her the following day. I thought this friend couldnt possible be her boyfriend, otherwise she would have to blow me off.

Are you mad, she asked

No

Really, really no?

I was confused, but not mad

She grabbed my hand and gave me this huge kiss on the cheek. Where I come from, this was a huge yes sign. But then again, we were not in the place where I come from.

Back in Mendoza

Back in Mendoza, I didnt really have anything else I wanted to do, so I was ready to head North. Matze was also heading North to Salta so we figured we would go together. She wanted to go to this one Puma store so we decided to wait another day.

For one afternoon, I actually though there was something up between the two of us. We had definitely clicked and we were getting along great. On our way back from Puente del Inca, she asked:

What next?

I am heading up North, I replied

When?

I am not quite sure yet, probably tomorrow

Ohhh

Why ohhh, I asked

Nothing

No really, tell me. I insisted

It is because I really wanna go with you, but there is this place I need to go to.

It is a Puma store, isn't it. I guessed

She blushed like a twelve year old, it was incriminatingly funny.

You just want to go with me so I can carry your stuff, 3 bags worth of Puma gear. I joked

When a really cool chick with an amazing body wants to go travel with you but she wants to stay another night, it is really not that complicated a decision

It is cool, I will stay another day.

Really?

Really, why not.

I wasn't sure if we were connecting, but it really felt like it for me.

I had hooked up with other girls on my trip, but she was different. Funny, clever, outdoorsy, really really hot. I really liked her.

Puente y Las Aguas

Puente del Inca is a natural bridge made of sulfur that is smacked on the top of the Andes at 3000 meters, about 10000 feet. It has this orange-yellowish color that is very uncommon, rendering it a very unique look.

The place used to be a ritzy hotel where European types came to bathe in the hot springs, hoping that the mineral rich waters would do their bodies good. In 1963, an avalanche destroyed the entire hotel, prompting management to evacuate the area.

Whatever was left of the hotel stayed there and people now can come and use it for absolutely free. 40 years of sulfur rich waters running through metal pipes and tiled water ways can turn a ritzy hot springs paradise into quite a nasty place. There was one pool, however, that defied the works of nature and managed to remain off the hook through all these decades.

After going to check out the Aconcagua miradoe, we went back to the hostel and got ready to go to the springs. There were four of us, Margit and Rene (an Austrian couple we had met along the way), Matze and me. I had my Brazilian yellow speedos on, which were small enough by any American standards. But turns out was I the only one concerned about covering my body.

Before I could say cheese, the three were butt naked ...

Ohh... you have speedos? said naked Matze

yeah, duh. I said

You mind we go naked?

no, duh.

The funniest thing about the whole bit is that they kept going in and out of the pools to go get cigarettes, so it is safe to say I got my share of peaks. Matze has been rock climbing for ten years, so I dont need to go over her package. Still, there might be those readers who arent familiar with the degree of fitness that rock climbing requires from its practitioners, so here it goes. Her legs were more solid than sequoia trees, better toned than a tour-de-France ciclist and more ripped than Mick Jagger's cheek bones on his best cocained days. Her bubbly but defied her arian heritage and made it okay for her to refer to Black women as sisters. Her six pack was so well defined that when she flexed, you could see up to the fourth decimal point. The short of it is she had it going on.

One thing I realized almost instantly, however, was that hot naked ladies arent always sexy unless they are at least trying a little bit. Margit and Matze kept getting in and out of the pool, but they did it in such a casual way that it didnt look hot at all.

You girls are ruining it for me, I thought to myself.

I am bathing in a hot springs with two hot white girl (Hittler must be turning in his grave, by the way), the least that you two could do is behave a little sexier.

Ohhh well, you cannot always have it all I guess. They spoke German the whole nite, pretty much leaving me out of the conversation all together. I didnt mind, I wanted to watch the stars and I had already seen Matze naked, do it couldnt have been all that bad.

I counted six shooting stars that nite.

Matze and Mendoza

Bariloche was awesome. I wanted to stay longer, but much like at the Playa del Frances, I had a long road ahead of me and if I was going to make it to the end of it, I couldnt stay for two weeks at every spot I liked.

I did already feel I had stayed away for too long, but I was committed to the course, so I didn't really think too much about it.

My next stop was Mendoza, Argentina's third largest city with a little over 2 million people. I had already been to Mendoza, twice actually, but I'd never made it to Puente del Inca, so I figured I would head that way for a third time. Third time is the charm, as they say.

While waiting for the bus a the Bariloche station, this German girl by the name of Matze started to make conversation. Matze, short for Martina, was a thirty year old rock climber from Frankfurt Main. I had already seen her at the 1004 hostel, even though she didn't stay there. She had a caring smile that made it easy to make a lovely person out of her from the very first of impressions, even though her teeth were quite yellow from smoking. Well, show me a German that doesn't smoke and I will show you a fat Argentinean girl... these just don't exist !!!

The bus ride was twenty hours long and when we made it to Mendoza, we decided to head to the same hostel. We got there and after making little conversation, she said she was going shopping. She wanted to know what I was up to later on. The only thing I wanted to do was to check out Puente del Inca, which I was set on doing the next day. Matze came back later on that day with a huge Puma bag. I made fun of her for the rest of the evening

...Puma shares are up 30 points today at the stock exchange...

...New York times headlines: borderlining bankrupcy, Puma shoes shows miraculous overturn after strong sales in Argentina...

You make fun of me? she asked.

Her accent was adorable, we laughed a great deal. We agreed we would head to Puente del Inca the next day.

Key Chain Car

Back at the hostel, slutty girl was wrapped around some other dude, which was good because she didn't really do it for me

Mayra and I went to the movies to celebrate my scholarship. We were going to watch the Lord of the Rings III. On our way to the theater, I saw this tiny little fiat 600, it was probably twenty years old. It is so small it looks like a toy car.

Look at this car, I love it.

It is just a car, she said

It is not just a car, it is a key chain car

What do you mean?

If you think of it as a big key chain, you will find it cute, I said

She paused and looked at it for a while. She laughed, looked at me and said:

You should be a politician

What did I do this time?

It is just that you have a way to make people see things, it is a good thing

Whatever, I said somewhat disdainfully

I am serious, you are very good with it

All I said was that the car was cute

I thought it was just an old car, but when you think of it as a key chain, it is actually adorable. Politicians do that, they say something and change people's mind in a split second... you do that well. It is a compliment

I will take it

Good

To the movies than, it is that way