Bolivia

To La Paz

We cruised over to Bolivia on Hydrofoil and stopped off at Sun Island, spiritual home of the Incas. All potential Inca kings had to spend 3 weeks here being prepared for leadership and examined by the high priests that used to live on the island. If the priests thought the future king unfit, then he would be killed and sacrificed. If passed OK, the king would be crowned and would return to Cusco to rule.

Our guide told us that immigration into Bolivia used to be a real hassle as the officials always wanted money. Eventually, the travel agency gave in and agreed to pay them. So now we get 5 star service. 2 officials came up to us during lunch and politely asked for our passports and then retuned them 10 minutes later duly stamped. Now that’s service. I think we’d all pay a little extra for that.

We cruised over to the mainland for a 90 minute drive to La Paz over similar terrain to the high plateau that we crossed on our train journey to Cusco. Our guide, Raul, had great fun terrorising us with tales of revolution. The locals don’t really recognise the government. Every time they find something not to their liking they take the law into their own hands and start to blockade the roads. On one occasion, his driver was whipped for trying to break a blockage to get a guest to the airport in time for his plane.

We approached La Paz from high on the plateau, and the first view of the city as it nestles in a canyon below is very impressive. It has an amazing location, with the ever present Illampu Mountain standing proudly over the city guarding its people. There’s 9 million people in Bolivia and most of them live in La Paz or its neighbouring overspill city El Alta, where most of the workers live. Countless minibuses deliver the people into La Paz each morning.

Next day, we embarked on the obligatory city tour. There’s not much to see in the way of architecture. The Spanish seem to have been particularly uninspired here. Still, there’s a really nice atmosphere, the residents managing to be frantic and laid back at the same time.

La Paz is consumed by a gigantic market that takes over half the city. You can buy anything here as long as it’s counterfeit. From CDs, designer wear and watches to Inca relics. All ridiculously cheap. I bought a copy of windows XP for less than 1$, hoping to use it to revive my ailing laptop. With all Nike, Reebok, Adidas and co gear now being made in China, I don’t think there’s any difference in quality between the copies and the real thing.

Something went badly wrong with our agency booking as, having just spent a day cruising lake Titicaca on our private hydrofoil, we found ourselves travelling from La Paz to Uyini by public bus and train. PUBLIC TRANSPORT. IN BOLIVIA. ARE YOU SERIOUS? Actually, it wasn’t too bad. The 3 and a half hour bus journey took us to Oruro without breaking down, where we boarded a super slow train for 7 hours and finally arrived in Uyini at 2:20 a.m. On the train I had what must be the worst meal of the trip (please), Spaghetti Bolognese. Imagine a tin of Heinz Spaghetti heated up with diced beef checked in, served with a side dish of soap shavings pretending to be Parmesan.

Uyini is home to the largest salt lake in the world. One of two facts that Bolivia is famous for; that and for having more presidents than anyone else in the last hundred years. How did all this salt get here, I hear you ask. Well, it wasn’t an EU salt mountain that was dumped in South America to placate Saxa. No, it was formed by minerals washed there from the surrounding mountains. The rain water has nowhere to go and is evaporated by the strong sun leaving a massive plateau of almost pure salt.

We paid a short visit to a salt factory. These are all small family run businesses. The salt is cut from the lake in blocks, smashed up, and then ‘cooked’ over an open fire to remove the impurities. The salt crackles as it cooks sounding like popcorn. It’s then ground and bagged by children – 2000 bags a day. All of Bolivia’s table salt is produced like this, costing 1 Boliviano a bag – about 6p

The lake really is large, like a skating ring for giants, an enormous latte (Imagine a size up from Venti), Pete Docherty’s cocaine stash, Mama Cass’ bed sheets. OK, it’s big and white. It’s fringed by mountains and volcanoes on all sides giving an otherworldly feel. Those mountains again – we must be in the Andes. The reflected glare from the sun is extremely powerful and ‘snow’ blindness is a real possibility here. Sun glasses are an absolute must, preferably two pairs together. I had to adjust the camera to reduce the exposure as otherwise all the photographs came out as white. The salt dries in hexagonal plates; something to do with the molecular shape of sodium chloride, so the guide told us, but that could have been made up on the spot.

Nothing can live in this environment. No vegetation, no animals, birds or insects – nothing, nada - absolute desert. It’s not a great environment for vehicles either as the salt rots them petty rapidly. I imagined our land cruiser dissolving in front of our eyes leaving us sitting in the middle of the lake with nothing left but the rubber wheels. 4 wheel drive is mandatory here as Bolivia only has 6 roads and they’re all in or into La Paz.

In the middle of the lake is a rocky atoll called Fish Island, named due to its appearance from a distance. Unbelievably, this is covered by giant cactus, up to 10 metres tall, with rabbits , mice and birds all somehow scraping by.

We stayed near the lake in a salt hotel built of, yes you guessed it, salt. This is obviously a bit of a tourist gimmick, but the salt blocks used are surprisingly durable, having similar characteristics to concrete blocks, and a similar appearance too, except white of course.

As usual we were the only guests. This was typical of our stay in the Bolivian desert. We felt more like travel ambassadors than tourists. Hotel managers were weeping when we left, not knowing when their next guests might arrive.

This part of Bolivia is a truly wild, desolate, remote and staggeringly beautiful place. We left the salt lake in our 4 wheel drive which finally gave way to scrub, a barren, rocky landscape punctuated by a few grassy stubs and yellow, green short bushes supporting the occasional Vicuña that peered at us inquisitively as we drove past in a cloud of dust. We were heading to a series of about a dozen mineral lakes clustered together, each with different colours caused by the predominant mineral deposited in the water. There’s red lakes, green, blue, pink – most are populated by thousands of pink Flamingos that somehow find something to eat in the heavy, acrid waters.

The most astonishing lagoon is Lake Colorado which manages to be blue, green, red and white all at once; a photographers’ wet dream. This really does look like another planet, with no sign of vegetation here, just dazzling colours reflecting the stark, lifeless mountains. And of course, just us. I’ll put some pictures on the blog and I promise that I haven’t doctored them. It really does look like this.

We finally took leave of this awesome landscape and swapped transport and took the road to Chile. We were soon back in the first world, and we both cheered as we came to a real, metal road after about 5 kilometres. This is the main haulage route in the north between Chile and Argentina, where the three countries meet. There’s a forlorn looking signpost for Bolivia pointing to the dirt track that we had just traveled, like an after thought as if the Chileans can’t understand why anyone would want to go there. After all, they couldn’t be bothered to invade past this point.

The road plummets alarmingly downwards from over 4000 metres to our destination 45 minutes away at Atacama at 2400 metres. The road is littered with car and lorry wreckage accompanied by roadsides shrines to lost loved ones, but we managed to navigate it safely enough.

Overall Boliva Ratings

People 8
Landscape 10
Food 5
Coffee 0
Roads Not Applicable

Peru

Lima
We didn’t spend much time in Lima as the guide book description gave us the impression that it is a bit of a shit hole. However, we were pleasantly surprised by the old town. There’s a lot of impressive colonial architecture adorning the large squares, and of course, plenty of churches. It also felt safer than billed, although we didn’t wander away from the well policed main areas.

Our hotel was a beautiful, grand building in one of the richer suburbs overlooking the Lima golf course. Unfortunately, it was a hugely popular place for weddings, and our two nights there were interrupted by the constant celebrations of the various wedding parties.

In the bar we were treated to the worst female singer in the world, who was masquerading as the evening’s entertainment. We’ve never heard anyone so poor, even in Kareoke bars, if you exclude me, that is.

Lima is a massive city, home to 8 million personas (notice the Spanish, we’re practically fluent now. Dos cerveza, vino blanco, vino tinto, gin y tonic.) – most of them living in shanty towns clinging to the surrounding hills, and occasionally glimpsed through the smog, dust and mist.

The poverty is never far away. We were approached by one desperate man for money who was literally crying for mercy, poor soul. Our guide called over the police who moved him on. Moments later we were inside an opulent colonial house that had been in the same family for generations. The contrast between rich and poor couldn’t be sharper than here.

Cusco
Cusco is now home to 800,000 people following a population explosion in the last 10 years, but manages to maintain the feel of a small town. In part, I think, to a policy of not allowing buildings to be constructed over six stories high due to concerns over earthquakes. All of the buildings are roofed with the same terracotta tiles, making it very picturesque.

Cusco is our base for exploring the remains of the famous Inca civilisation which was brought to an abrupt end by the Spanish in the 16th century. We didn’t have to travel far for our first glimpse as many of the buildings in the old town where we were staying are built on top of Inca ruins, the dark, smooth granite blocks making up the first few rows.

We spent some time touring the surrounding area visiting Inca rest houses, Inca terraces, and ruined temples. There really is a lot to see. Many of the terraces are still in use today by farmers growing corn or potatoes.

One site, the Zig zag remains, is a major attraction. It has been named “Zig zag” because of the topography of the remains. All of the original names have been lost as the Incas left no written record.

Most of the ruins, except Machu Picchu, have been destroyed by the Spanish, particularly the temples as they were trying to promote Catholicism.

We spent a few hours at a market at Pisac, which was a little disappointing, with everyone selling the same factory produced stuff for tourist consumption. Alpaca jumpers, hats and gloves, Machu Picchu t-shirts, jewellery etc.

Near Cusco is the sacred valley, a fertile farming region and home to lots of ruins. There’s lots of small villages here all making a living out of farming corn or potatoes. The valley is extremely fertile so crops are grown all year round. The buildings are all built from mud bricks, called adobe houses. You’d think that they would wash away in the rainy season, but they are more durable than you would think. They still apparently need fairly major maintenance once a year.

Machu Picchu
Of the many ways to travel to Machu Picchu, including the famous Inca trail, we chose the Hiram Bingham train, named after the American who rediscovered the ruins in 1911.

The trip from Poroy, near Cusco, to Machu Picchu is only 75km, but the train contrives to make this last 3 and a half hours, and you wouldn’t want it to go any quicker as it ambles through some breathtaking scenery. The route runs alongside the Urubamba river as it tumbles violently and impatiently towards the Amazon.

The train is fabulous, all wood paneling and brass. There are only 4 coaches; 2 for the passengers, 1 for the kitchen where the chef knocks out wonderful food, and the last carriage is a lounge and bar with an observation deck. Give the designer a medal.

Feeling wonderfully pampered and privileged, we arrived in Machu Picchu town, and embarked on one of the many coaches that wind their way up to the ruins. Twenty minutes later and we were passing through the entrance gate to receive our first glimpse of this breath-taking place.

Despite its world renown, Machu Picchu surprised us. The first surprise is that it is located in the rainforest, so back into mossie territory. Although considerably lower than Cusco, it feels higher due to the immense, vertical mountains that surround it. It’s a huge site, with terraces stretching to the limits of the mountain that it sits on. Even in the off season, it attracts 1200 visitors a day. Despite this, it is not crowded at all. The other surprise was that it isn’t a let down. It’s hyped so much that we were worried that it wouldn’t live up to expectations, but it is a really miraculous place. If it wasn’t here, for real, you wouldn’t believe it was possible.

It’s actually situated on top of a mountain. God knows why they built it there, as there’s a perfectly good valley floor with accompanying river below. The reason the ruins are so intact is that the Spanish never found it. Apparently, they weren’t too keen on venturing into the jungle.

The Incas liked a step or two, and getting around can be quite tiring, especially given the altitude. Day 1 was OK and we were feeling not too puffed. You need to take great care at the edges of the site as the terraces drop away vertically hundreds of metres to the valley floor below. There’s no safety railings here. God knows how many tourists they ‘lose’ each year. Our guide, the lovely, diminutive Adriana, encouraged us to take on one of the two popular walks that start from the ruins. So, day 2, full of Adriana’s misplaced confidence, we commenced our ascent of Wynu Pichu, which is the mountain that is in the background of all the postcards. It’s not a serious climb requiring rope and tackle, but it is bloody steep, and you need a head for heights. We finally made it to the top after many stops to catch our breath. The views at the top were indeed spectacular, and there are more Inca ruins and terraces here. The archaeologists think that the Incas used it as a look out point. Imagine having to walk up that every day to clock on.

The descent nearly killed us as our legs started turning to jelly, but we eventually made it back to the starting point to proudly enter our names into the log at the gate.

Lake Titicaca
I’ve had a stomach ache for 3 weeks now, and I’ve become fairly well acquainted with Messers Armitage and Shanks. Still, small price to pay for being in such wonderful scenery. My laptop us refusing to boot, making strange clanking noises as if it, too has ingested something it can’t get rid off. It has since made a partial recovery but is still a bit flakey, so if you’re trying to contact us, it’s probably best to copy emails to garyandmags@hotmail.co.uk

We left Cusco by train headed for Puno on the shore of Lake Titicaca. Yes, I thought it was fictional too. This is a wonderful, all day train journey climbing up into the Andean highlands above the tree line, where the only vegetation appears to be a sinewy grass that somehow sustains herds of Alpaca and Lama. The route is guarded on both sides by colossal mountains. We passed through a desperate, half built city in the Altiplano called Juliaca, which allegedly is the commercial centre of the region. All of the buildings are unfinished with steel rods poking skywards from the concrete building blocks to support future floors that will never be built. Peruvians pay more tax on finished buildings, so this is a common site. Mortgages are also extremely rare, so people start building before they have enough funds to finish their home. They build one floor, and then build the next when they have saved up enough funds a few years later. This half finished look makes the place look like a ghost town, expect that the residents forgot to leave.

Lake Titicaca lies between the Andean mountain ranges where they split in two at the Sothern end of Peru. All the rain falling on the mountains runs into the valley between the mountain ranges where it is trapped to form this huge lake.

The lake is shared by Bolivia and Peru, with a maniacal border running across the water. There’s a natural harbour at Puno which is 60% covered in reeds. Some of the people have taken to living in these reeds on floating islands. We visited a couple and were amazed to find a real, working community. We’d expected to find a few families hamming it up for the tourists, re-enacting a lifestyle long since extinguished by modern ‘progress’. But there’s actually 30 or so families living on these reed islands, sustaining themselves mostly by fishing.

Next stop Bolivia which is economically on a par with Tower Hamlets.

Overall Peru Rating

People 7
Food 7
Scenery 10
Inca Ruins 10
Andean Flute music 1