The Untamed Bolivia

[This article was written by Fran Siebrits and was published in Toast, 2010]

Bolivia is a land-locked country in the heart of South America. The desert areas are particularly unforgiving, but unbelievably beautiful. A few days are needed to explore this vast area. A self-sufficiently stocked, hardy vehicle and the correct equipment are essential to survive.

The Untamed Bolivia

THE UNTAMED BOLIVIA



Four-Day Desert Tour
"By travelling, we discover not only this beautiful, awe-inspiring earth; we also discover our humanity, and that of others."

- Dana Snyman, On the Back Roads

Somewhere along the trip I sat overlooking a white mineral lake in the remote south-west Bolivia. The space was immense, the temperature uncomfortably cold, and the sun harsh. This environment cannot tolerate the weak.

Four day dessert tour, south-west Bolivia

"By travelling, we discover not only this beautiful, awe-inspiring earth; we also discover our humanity, and that of others."
- Dana Snyman, 'On the Back Roads'

Somewhere along the trip I sat overlooking a white mineral lake in the remote south-west Bolivia. The space was immense, the temperature uncomfortably cold, and the sun harsh. This environment cannot tolerate the weak. I only saw one wild animal species during the four day tour - an antelope named vekunas. Fortunately, they have enough hair to keep them warm. They are a close relative to the alpaca and llama, and are sadly now endangered. The domesticated sheep and llamas roaming the countryside do so with frost-bitten hooves. It is a harsh place to live, but unforgivably beautiful.

We left Tupiza early on the first morning after some warm mate and tamales. Climbing up mountains of craggy pinnacles, we felt a pang of danger sitting in the Land Cruiser. The views continued to get increasingly magnificent. That night we stayed with a local Quechua family in a small village. It was the coldest I have ever been. The water in the toilet froze, so it's not hard to imagine what the streams looked like.

Waking up at four in the morning to negative fifteen degrees celcius is no joke, but we all pilled into the vehicles and watched the stars float past our windows as the driver took us into the semi-dessert. We stopped at a view point just after sunrise at 4855 meter above sea level. It was high, it was cold, we were out of breath. Every time we got out of the vehicle to take photographs or find a rock to go to the loo behind, we almost froze. Our fingertips and toes were constantly numb, even inside the vehicle. But excitement and amazement made it bearable as we walked amongst geysers, steaming and boiling. The warm ground and sulphuric air were made the landscape even more foreign.

On the third day I sat on gorgeous forms of larva rock looking at a smoking volcano. Lunch was prepared by our driver's wife while we played amongst the curious shapes of the larva field. "Amigos," we were called to eat. The sun had at least warmed us up a bit after unbearably cold start to the morning. The water in the basin had frozen the previous night, making the teeth-brushing episode quite a challenge as we were forced to brace the air outside. As the day ages, we drove into a Salvador Dahli painting where huge rocks were strewn on sand-dune foothills.

The sheer beauty of the country amazed me, despite it's challenging temperatures. We drove past several lakes, all frozen. The dessert and blue skies emphasised the white borax mineral on the water's edge. The famous green and red lakes, however, took my breathe away, especially as the sun set and the afterglow from the day's cold and windy sun gave rise to intense pinks and blues on the horizon.

On the third and final night we stayed in a salt house on the edge of the world's largest salt pan. Driving from the quaint setting over the salt flats in the early hours of the following morning, I wrote to the light of the moon through my window. We huddled close together for the drive over the white salt to our sunrise breakfast spot. It looked as though we were driving through a vast isolated landscape of snow, the road never changing ... and never ending.

It was truly an amazing trip through dramatic semi-dessert and dessert scenery. The altitude, ridiculously cold temperatures and eventual stench after four days of no showering was insignificant compared to the beauty I saw. As the moon gradually sank into the western horizon on that final morning, I smiled to myself, knowing I have experienced the untamed Bolivia.

ISLAND OF THE SUN, LAKE TITICACA; July '09

Sunday market in Copacabana and the blessing of new cars.

Herding the livestock at dusk.

Sunset swim and a bottle of rum.

Local boat from the northern village of the island to the mainland once a day

Isle del Sol (Island of the Sun)

Below: According to the Incas, this rock is the birthplace of the sun, with accompanying footprints!

Inca ruins ...

A local crop called abba drying.

Good luck with that entrance!

Rayms chilling in a reed boat.


Llama llama llama!

Left and below: More llamas!

Boat from the mainland's

northern peninsula to Isle del Sol.

The rural scene around Copacubana.

Looking good Han! Walking to the peninsula of the mainland to get a boat to Isle del Sol, Lake Titicaca.

A Bolivian woman and her load, the guy on the bike just happily rode on by after a casual chat.

The giant bags of popped wheat at the street markets.

Buses also cross part of the lake on route to Copacubana.

July '09

ISLAND OF THE SUN, LAKE TITICACA

Overlooking the vast expanse of Lake Titicaca's water, I have to remind myself that I am finally on Isle del Sol (Island of the Sun). It has been a lifelong dream of mine to travel this historically rich area where the ancient Inca civilization began. Said to have been born here, this southern island has been under the watchful eye of Pachamama, mother earth. According to Inca mythology, The Sacred Rock at Challa'pampa, a village on the north of the island, was the first place the sun ever touched. To the east of the this land mass, the northern Cordillera Real in Peru line the horizon with snow-capped peaks. To the west, the barren purple-brown hills of Bolivia greet the morning's sun.


At 3800 meters above sea level, what should have been a three to four hour walk, took us five and a half hours. Our party of three acclimatised rather well, when I compare us to the other gringos (tourists) who have suffered terrible headaches, dizzyness, nauseousness, etc. for consecutive days. Most people who visit the Isle del Sol, and its neighbouring Isle del Luna - Island of the Moon, catch a ferry from Copacubana on the mainland to the island's southern village, Yumani. But, as we preferred to take the road less travelled, we walked to the northern peninsular on the mainland and arranged to be rowed the short distance to the island's southern point. Here, there is an old Inca Palace, part of the ruins which are visited on the island. Our bargaining skills as South Africans came in handy and we were soon in a small wooden boat used by local fisherman. The chilly wind being blown in from the Cordillera Real made the journey longer than expected. We still had another hours walk up to the village on the old Inca trail. We passed terraced fields, typical of Inca cultivation, still used by locals today. It was early evening when we walked the trail along with shepard girls and boys bringing their stock home for the night. The many sheep, donkeys and llamas strewn between us added a rural charm which was most welcoming. We dined on quinua (local crop) soup and trout fresh from the lake. Our moonlit walk back to our humble accommodation overlooking the lights of Bolivia and Peru on either side respectively, was well worth the freezing air we suffered. Comfortable warm beds was all we required, a nice change from our previous nights accommodation.


After a hearty breakfast on top of the village's ridge, we set off for the day's walk to the north of the island. Over hills, along more Inca roads and through scenery blessed by Pachamama, we made our way to the ruins on the northern point of the island. We were saturated with awe by the time we came to the small fishing village. Arranging transport back to mainland proved a challenge as we had done the island backwards, compared to the other grinogs (tourists). There was only one boat leaving the following morning, three times as much for non-locals. Our night proved to be as entertaining as any other. A cold, quick swim was followed by rum and coke on the beach, watching the cattle being herded back along the shore. And to heat up we made our way to a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant for more soup and trout. The daily set menus where real value for money.


Once back on the mainland after an hour and a half's boat ride, we said farewell to Bolivia over one last meal of fresh trout.

FOUR DAY DESSERT TOUR, BOLIVIA; July '09

"By travelling, we discover not only this beautiful, awe-inspiring earth; we also discover our humanity, and that of others."- Dana Snyman, 'On the Back Roads'

July '09 - Four Day Dessert Tour, Bolivia.

Somewhere along the trip I sat overlooking a white mineral lake in the remote south-west Bolivia. The space was immense, the temperature uncomfortably cold, and the sun harsh. This environment cannot tolerate the weak. I only saw one wild animal species during the four day tour - an antelope named vekunas. Fortunatly, they have enough hair to keep them warm. A close relative to the alpaca and llama, they are now endangered. The domesticated sheep and llamas roaming the countryside do so with frost-bitten hooves. It is a harsh palce to live, but unforgivingly beautiful.

We left Tupiza early on the first morning after some warm mate and tamales. Climbing up mountains of craggy pinnacles, we felt a pang of danger sitting in the Land Cruiser. The views continued to get increasingly magnificant. That night we stayed with a local Quechua family in a small village. It was the coldest I have ever been. The water in the toilet froze, so it's not hard to imagine what the streams looked like.

Waking up at 4 a.m. to negative fifteen degrees celcius is no joke, but we all pilled into the vehicles and watched the stars float past our windows as the driver took us into the semi-dessert. We stopped at a view point just after sunrise at 4855 meter above sea level. It was high, it was cold, we were out of breath. Every time we got out of the vehicle to take photographs or find a rock to go to the loo behind, we almost froze. Our fingertips and toes were constantly numb, even inside the vehicle. But excitement and amazement made it bearable as we walked amongst geysers, steaming and boiling. The warm ground and sulphuric air were made the lanscape even more foreign.

On the third day I sat on gorgeous forms of larva rock looking at a smoking volcano. Lunch was prepared by our driver's wife while we played amongst the curious shapes of the larva field. "Amigos," we were called to eat. The sun had at least warmed us up a bit after unbearably cold start to the morning. The water in the basin had frozen the previous night, making the teeth-brushing episode quite a challenge as we were forced to brace the air outside. As the day ages, we drove into a Salvador Dahli painting where huge rocks were strewn on sanddune foothills.

The sheer beauty of the country amazed me, despite it's challenging temperatures. We drove past several lakes, all frozen. The dessert and blue skies emaphasised the white borax mineral on the water's edge. The famous green and red lakes, however, took my breathe away, especially as the sun set and the afterglow from the day's cold and windy sun gave rise to intense pinks and blues on the horizon.

On the third and final night we stayed in a salt house on the edge of the world's largest salt pan. Driving from the quaint setting over the salt flats in the early hours of the following morning, I wrote to the light of the moon through my window. We huddled clode together for the drive over the white salt to our sunrise breakfast spot. It looked as though we were driving thru a vast isolated landscape of snow, the raod never changing ... and never ending.

It was truly an amazing trip through dramatic semi-dessert and dessert scenery. The altitude, riducously cold temperatures adn eventual styench after four days of no showering was insignificant compared to the bueauty I saw. As the moon gradually sank into the western horizon on that final morning, I smiled to myself, knowing I have experienced the untamed Bolivia.