stargazers

Well, since we left the Norte Grande of Chile and headed south to the Norte Chico, things have calmed down quite a bit - we´re in winding-down mode now, pretty much (trying to get our heads round the idea that we only have a couple of weeks left now!). After some umming and ahhing over whether to head to the area around Copiapó or to La Serena (which we HAD already visited a couple of years back, but liked enough to go back to), the latter won out, partly due to the fact that seeing the attractions around Copiapó would have involved yet more sitting-on-coaches-for-most-of-the-day-type tours, which we´re heartily sick of by now. And the MAIN reason we headed there was to visit the Mamalluca Observatory in nearby Vicuña, and see into space!

The north of Chile has some of the best conditions in the world for astronomy - as it happens, Chile has just won the right to own the world´s most largest and most amazing telescope (over the Canary Islands, apparently they´re gutted). Anyway, at Mamalluca they gave us a head-spinning prelude to the telescopic action - did you know that the sun (and therefore the Earth) will only be around for another 5,000 million years??! This was news to us! Why had no one told us this before? And how can they be so precise about it? (We were also unaware that Pluto is no longer considered a planet, but that may just be us being behind the times). Following this, we got to see Saturn (ring included), Mars, and as you can see, we managed to get a spectacular view of the Moon as well:

Besides that, we did little in La Serena, unless you count me getting a bit carried away buying Chile World Cup paraphernalia (hey, it´s been 12 years!). It was a bit too cold to relish being out anywhere in the evenings, unfortunately (and there didn´t seem to be any heating anywhere either!)

From there, we headed down to Santiago again for another week or so with my family, and that so far has involved some of this:

(Machas a la parmesana - razor clams topped with cheese and grilled; a Chilean classic)

several toasts drunk to our travels, and hearing everyone´s earthquake tales - and the full realisation of how lucky we really were to miss all that...

Being back in Santiago meant we could also revisit La Fuente Alemana, and have a proper Chilean sandwich-fest (grilled pork, avocado, tomato, mayo - the works), while pondering whether us opening a venture like this in London would ever be a success... I dunno, you´d have to find some of these legendary old ladies to run the place for it to work!

Once we leave Santiago, it´s only Mendoza and the final few days in Buenos Aires to go...

The Norte Grande

Another city, another brilliant few days! Iquique is the furthest north we'll make it in Chile (there's not much further north you can go - it was part of Peru not so long ago). It was nice to be by the seaside again, having come from the gorgeous gorges of Salta and the Atacama desert. At first we thought we´d done a wrong'un with our accommodation: we arrived after an 18-hr bus ride at 2am and it was well and truly party time at the Backpacker's Hostel. Just when our plugged ears had adjusted to the din, a folk show started up in a club opposite and didn't stop til gone 4am. But the following night it was our turn for some fun, and we stayed up drinking red wine and pisco with some guys from the hostel, no doubt keeping several other poor, tired travellers awake.

Iquique's a big holiday destination for Chileans, but we were there out of season (it's autumn now) so the city was bereft of tourists, and especially foreigners - I don't think it features much on the South American gringo trail. As a result, the vibe is a lot more auténtico (but unfortunately still just as expensive!). The city's full of beautiful turn-of-the-century houses made of timber and painted in bright colours. It gives it a Wild West feel, or of a place that's slightly past its prime.

Speaking of which, the highlight of the area for me was a trip to a nearby ghost town. I'd read up on Humberstone before we left and was more excited about seeing a real-life dead town than going to Iguaçu Falls. There are a few ghost towns in the area that were once a big noise in the nitrate idustry - Humberstone 'died' in 1960. It was incredible and eerie to see the school, theatre, swimming pool - even tho local offy's still there, all extremely well-preserved. I got a bit carried away with my camera (especially as I´d just worked out it has a black and white function). This was one UNESCO World Heritage Site worth seeing!

It had been a few weeks since we´d hit some hot springs, and luckily there are a few to choose from in the area. We went to Mamiña - a tiny village two hours from Iquique famed for the therapeutic properties of its water. We weren't banking on being presented on arrival at the first springs with a bucket of warm mud, gathered fresh from...the mud. We slopped it on and waited for it to dry in the sun before getting into the water. You'd pay a fortune for this at home! That said, this was about as rustic as it gets (and the smell of sulphur took some getting used to). We were all alone in our little corner of radioactive mud and smelly water - it was brilliant. The next baths were just that - four tin baths, filled with water (about 42 degrees). Five minutes in, five minutes out. Apparently the water's so property-laden (not to mention HOT) that people have been known to die for languishing about in it too long. Good job we found that out after we'd gone in. As it was, we set off back to Iquique feeling utterly relaxed, and free from skin complaints, spinal pain and arthritis. In perfect condition for another 18-hour bus ride, heading south towards Santiago. First stop, La Serena.

the desert sessions

After a few spectacular but often freezing days on the Salar de Uyuni, the warm, dry (VERY dry!) weather in San Pedro de Atacama was definitely what the doctor ordered, even if we did have to stay there a bit longer than we´d wanted to - a long and tedious saga involving Pullman Buses and a malfunctioning computer. Having had enough of 4.30am starts, and seen a few geysers already, we decided against visiting El Tatio (you can have enough of geysers), and basically spent a few relaxing days with Erin and Rebeca, the new friends from Canada who had been in our Salar tour group, and several new chums we made at our hostel - the recent batch of fellow travellers we´ve met have been great, a world away from some of the irritants we had run into previously!

Going to visit the Valle de la Luna (Moon Valley) at sunset was the only trip we took, which was great as it involved no discomfort whatsoever - I cannot emphasise strongly enough how much we´re enjoying being back in countries with PAVED ROADS. It is BLISS! Anyway, here are some pics from there to give you an idea of the mind-blowing scenery:













We hadn´t initially planned on going over to the Salta region in north-west Argentina, but having heard how brilliant it was about a million times, we re-routed and crossed the border again to the land of gauchos, amazing steaks and red wine, and as you can see we were very glad to be back!

We would have loved to have spent more time here, especially as it looks like we´ll be unfortunately missing out on the festivities held on the Day Of Salta (let´s face it, that´s gonna be a good ´un!), but the bus schedules are beyond our control. If we did have any say in the matter, we wouldn´t be leaving on a 7am bus which arrives at its destination (Iquique, back in Chile) at 1.15am!! I mean, which brainiac thought THAT one up?? So no chance to visit the local club which declares itself to be "furiosamente ochentero" ("furiously ´80s"), though seeing as our last night on the town ended early when we were joined at the table by an Anglophile local who started going on about how Becka looks like Lady Di (?!) and demanding photos of her, that may be a good thing...

Conveniently enough, however, as time has been tight here, our bus ride over here took us past some more incredible scenery, notably the amazing striped mountainsides, so that pretty much eliminated the need to go on another exhausting 12-hour tour. AND last night´s meal out turned into an impromptu peña, with much wine, women (well, Becka) and song, which eliminated the need to go and find one of those for the night!


We found time - just - to visit Cafayate, however, which was almost dream-like in its beauty (though maybe it was just because everything was closed for the afternoon?). A local simpleton strumming away, wailing off-key laments to no one in particular, added to the surreal vibe. We´ve also found time (of course!) to try the local specialities - locro, tamales, baby goat stew, and even though there seem to be, somewhat surprisingly, no salteñas in Salta, they do have some top-notch empanadas, which are especially good with the tomato and chilli relish they thoughtfully provide!

So, after that very pleasant interlude, it´s back to the north of Chile now for more desert action, and hopefully some ghost towns and hot springs thrown in. See you all soon!

PS Are you all still reading, by the way? No one has commented in ages... If you don´t want us to get demoralised and think you all hate us now, then please say hello! Lots of love xx

some final thoughts on Bolivia...

The cholitas you see everywhere, especially in La Paz, are an unbelievably hardworking lot. They may often lack in manners, but you have to take your bowler hat off to them, they seem to do the lion's share of the work in Bolivia (we had to ask ourselves on a few occasions, though, where are their men? They were nowhere to be seen as their womenfolk traverse the country laden with massive sacks of coca leaves, or actually chopping firewood with axes and drilling holes in the road, the kind of jobs you'd never see a Brazilian or Argentinian woman doing!).

The Wiphala (the Aymara flag) now flies proudly alongside the Bolivian flag pretty much everywhere. This seems to have caused some resentment and tension among other communities. The army having to change their war cry to the old revolutionary slogan "Patria o Muerte" ("Our nation or death") also has generated controversy. Bolivia overall came across as highly volatile politically (probably the main reason behind that drinking ban over the election weekend!), especially now with the Evo Morales revolution in full swing. Much as we think it's a great thing that he is the first indigenous President in the country´s history, we couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about some of the recent developments (such as his declaration that he hoped his party won in ALL the different regions, as he "can't work" with the opposition... always easier not to have to worry about an opposition at all, eh?).

The Aymaras on the whole can actually be pretty bloody rude. This unfortunately slightly marred our enjoyment of some parts of Bolivia, mainly the area around Lake Titicaca. This wasn´t just the "reserved" nature of highland people that we´d got used to, this was people being downright ill mannered, and the difference was marked when when we got down to Cochabamba and Sucre (especially the former), where we were overwhelmed by the friendliness we encountered.

Sign language - Subtitles aren't big in Bolivia. Apparently (according to La Razon), this is because a significant proportion of the deaf population can't read. This means that sign language is the communication tool of choice. Two brilliant signs for you - Evo Morales is the sign for the letter "E" plus "coca". And if you make your fingers look like a llama, you're saying "Bolivia".

Chuflay was a bit of a disappointment. For a bevvy with such a great name, the national favourite of singani (the local spirit) and Sprite turned out to taste much like the kind of thing you get given at a house party where the hosts hadn´t made that much effort.

It was a nice treat getting fresh orange juices from the street stalls, though.

There was a general lack of reliable information in Bolivia. (Particularly where transport is concerned!). This did our heads in at times. The locals, who have a lot to put up with as it is, seem to not to mind this kind of thing anything like as much as we did. I guess if you lived there, it would drive you mad if it did!

Much like the Argentines and the Falklands, the Bolivians would like to get some coast back off Chile one day. They still celebrate the "Day of the Sea" every year, and the papers carry surveys asking people if they consider themselves to still have beef with Chileans. During our Salar de Uyuni trip, as well as me enduring a whole lot of ribbing about it from Jimmy the driver, we drove through some places which had been battlegrounds back during the War of the Pacific. (It´s not all been us Chileans either - Bolivia has a pretty poor record in wars with neighbours over the years, losing massive chunks territory to Paraguay and Brazil also, but they seem less fussed about that somehow...)

It was difficult to get worked up about Bolivian football (as it had been about Peruvian football), once you´d been in Brazil and Argentina. That said, if I had to pick a team to back, tempted as I was by The Strongest (or even Blooming), I would have to go for Aurora, in honour of my bandmate, and also cos they were from Cochabamba, our favourite city! (As for Peru, I went for Universitario, partly on the recommendation of a friend, and partly cos I enjoyed the saga about them being thrown out of the league for kit-related reasons).

Salteñas are bloody delicious - even better than empanadas. You have to be on the ball early to get one though, as they tend to have sold out by midday! This was a common sight:

We were pleasantly surprised by the food, on the whole, as Bolivia tends to get a bad rap from travellers on this front. We obviously DID get the odd dodgy tummy, but we ate very well in Bolivia whenever we weren't suffering...

We had previously lumped Peru and Bolivia in together in terms of the standard of tourist infrastructure we had expected, but we were well wrong. Bolivia is clearly a great deal poorer than its neighbour, and nothing made this clearer than the bus travel and the toilets we encountered on the way. (Christ, I hope I never encounter another "ecotoilet" like the one I had to use on my last day ever again!)

The Salar de Uyuni was undoubtedly one of the highlights of whole trip. Despite the country as a whole having some absolutely stunning landscapes to offer, from the lush jungle of the Chapare to the amazing blue of Lake Titicaca, the Salar really was something else. Here's some video footage for you to get the picture...

bye-bye Bolivia

The good thing about having low expectations is that you´re rarely disappointed, and this proved to be the case in Uyuni - our last stop in Bolivia. I´d been trying to find a good tour company for our visit to the largest salt flats in the world. It turned out that all of them had horror stories featuring drunk drivers and frequent break-downs in the ´inhospitable´ terrain (inhospitable isn´t the word - it can get to below -40). Following a bumpy nine-hour bus ride and a last minute tip-off (thanks, Becky!), we changed companies and felt slightly more optimistic. The tour was reassuringly expensive. Don´t get me wrong - Uyuni itself is pretty awful, but we were only there long enough to buy some alpaca hats, have a cold shower and a good night´s sleep before setting off on our three-day tour.

It´s not the first time on our trip that we´ve struck it lucky with our group, and it made all the difference. Our driver and guide, Jimmy, insisted on playing the songs on his 80s mix-tape on repeat - even after 40 minutes of listening to the Pointer Sisters´"I´m So Excited", the six of us were still remarkably good-humoured (I was so excited, after all).

I won´t even try to fully evoke the scenery that we came across over the two days (because I´d fail), but suffice to say it was absolutely beautiful. And otherworldly. And at times ´inhospitable´. Everytime we wandered around the salt flats or a lagoon we´d be silent apart from the occasional "Amazing!", to the extent that Mauro and I banned ourselves from saying it (and started saying "incredible" instead). We also had some obligatory fun and games with perspective, thanks to the brilliant Jimmy, who also doubled up as a photographer. Here´s some photos...

Elsa, our cook, also came up trumps and whipped up some fantastic food, which exceeded everyone´s expectations. It was lovely, if not slightly surreal, to be sat outside amidst this AMAZING landscape eating llama steaks and quinoa. Surreal is definitely an apt description - one of the areas of the reserve is the ´Salvador Dali Desert´(although Jimmy pointed out that Dali himself hadn´t actually been there).

Whilst the accommodation was basic, and at over 4,500 metres on the second night absolutely (below) freezing, we had good laugh playing cards and drinking average Bolivian wine. The wine didn´t help the 4:30am start on the last day, but the geysers and hot springs were worth the ordeal. Shortly afterwards, Jimmy dropped us off at the border, where we bid Bolivia goodbye and said an enthusiastic hello to Chile. We´ve been in the town of San Pedro de Atacama one night and have already had several pisco sours, a lot of avocados (they´re SO good here) and a handful of empanadas. Mauro put his Chile top back on again at last, and I had a rude reminder that perhaps my Spanish isn´t as good as I thought it was in Peru and Bolivia (why do they speak like that?!). It´s great to be back!

"little people in funny hats"

(...as I´ve heard Bolivia described recently!)

Much as we enjoyed La Paz, it was good to get away from all the irritating gringos there (often British ones) who were doing our heads in. If anything put the nail in the coffin of doing the "Death Road" trip down to Coroico (which, let´s face it, was never really on the cards - adrenaline junkies we are not!) it was having to listen to one particularly infuriating English girl on Skype banging on about how it was "this thing that, like, everyone does" in between anecdotes about "kerr-azee" coked-up nights out in La Paz (with other gringos, obviously - these aren´t the types to interact with the local populace, unless they´re getting robbed by them).




It´s pretty evident that coca plays a pretty major role in Bolivian life (the man standing for governor of La Paz is even called Cocarico, brilliantly enough). Visiting the Coca Museum in La Paz brought that home - although, again, most of the comments left in the visitors´ book by English speakers made us embarrassed for them, and the fact that they clearly hadn´t taken anything in at all about the pernicious effect the West´s appetite for cocaine has had on this country.

Then of course the journey from La Paz to Cochabamba saw us surrounded by locals transporting enormous sacks of coca leaves across the country, and also joined by a coca preacher, delivering a half-hour sermon at full volume about all the benefits derived from the coca leaf (though it did turn out he was trying to flog some product or other). We were both missing Cruz del Sur at this point - in fact it´s fair to say we still are! Anyway, the preacher did omit to mention the effect coca-chewing has on people´s teeth (dire, from what we´re seeing around us every day!), though apparently this is only if you don´t brush your teeth afterwards! Ah...

I had a feeling we would take to Cochabamba, having heard it was friendly and unpretentious, and known for the "warmth and openness of its population", and I was proved right. In fact, it´s been our favourite place in Bolivia so far, hands down. Barely any other tourists, a large and friendly youthful population seemingly hellbent on having a good time, and to top it all, an excellent local bar whose owner was a dead ringer for a Bolivian version of The Wire´s Prop Joe!









From Cocha, we visited Villa Tunari, in the Chapare region, which used to be pretty dangerous as it´s prime coca-growing territory. This is where they grow the stuff they turn into cocaine, so straying off the beaten track around here is still very much inadvisable (pah, Death Road indeed - that´s for wusses), and our jeep got stopped by the local drug police for a routine check. Nothing illicit in the car, though our driver´s reckless style (overtaking on all kinds of blind spots as we sped through the clouds, blaring out ´80s classics like "She´s A Maniac") was hardly reassuring. The Chapare region was like a bizarre flashback to Brazil for us as suddenly we were in the sweltering tropics again. We visited the Inti Wara Yassi project there, which rehabilitates animals before restoring them to the wild, so we hung out with some capuchin and spider monkeys, although sadly the jaguars and pumas were off-limits at the time...

On our last night in Cocha, a table of Cochabambinos (for that is what they´re called - yet another thing we loved) asked us to join them, and we spent the rest of the night talking about President Evo Morales and the recent changes in Bolivian society with them, while downing copious amounts of dodgy-looking shooters. As far as Evo goes, you cannot avoid him in Bolivia - his face even adorns the stamps, for Christ´s sake! He is everywhere... This may have something to do with the municipal elections currently going on (more on that later), although to be fair it hardly seemed like Cochabamba was gripped with election fever, unlike La Paz, for example.

We travelled on to Sucre via another "challenging" overnight bus trip, which involved a hygienically-challenged indigenous woman, with her right breast out, frequently sticking her elbow in my head, or just choosing to sit in the aisle right next to me, rather than in her seat, and conducting a conversation with another passenger right by my ear - attempts to get her to shut the f**k up were limited by the fact she didn´t seem to speak Spanish. The bus broke down before it got to its destination, of course. Believe me, we´ve both found ourselves, and our proudly liberal beliefs, challenged in Bolivia on several occasions, much as it´s given us food for thought.

Sucre itself is, technically, also the capital of Bolivia (along with La Paz), so it basically has ideas above its station for a city of its size - it´s undeniably beautiful and Spanish-looking, with its regularly whitewashed buildings (yep, another place nicknamed "White City", aaarghh is there no escape?) although we´ve unfortunately arrived here the weekend of these sodding elections! So it´s forbidden to buy or consume any alcohol for three whole days beforehand! The obvious loophole being that you could buy as much as you wanted before that and then spend the whole weekend battered... though quite what the alcohol/election issue is in this country (and these aren´t even national elections!!), no one has convincingly explained to us. In fact, no one seems to have questioned it, in particular. And most places (except for the local gringo bar, because they had armed police outside, just to make sure) were a bit crap about the whole thing anyway - after a few exasperated/stern words, we managed to get served a couple of Paceñas to help us wash down our pizza last night.

Anyway the next stop on our adventure will be the town of Uyuni (famously awful) and the legendary salt plains. We´re doing our damnedest to save ourselves from being ripped off and scammed - it seems all the tour operators there are lying chancers - I guess we´ll have to let you know next time if we succeed...!