Sorata - La Paz - Uyuni: 28/08 - 09/09

The arrival back to Sorata meant some precious things for us - hot showers, clean clothes and cold beveridges in the peaceful plaza. Our daydreams for the last few days had featured our little pizza place and as such we made our dreams come true with gusto. Afterwards we went to Pete`s Place, Pete being an ex-member of Status Quo to consume brownies and peruse their excellent range of guidebooks and maps. I left the others to celebratory (we don`t need much cause to celebrate :) rum and cokes and loved my bed.

The next morning before Martin and Kataryzna returned to La Paz, they and Arys joined me at Las Piedras for their awesome breakfasts and Jummmmbo Cappuchinoes - Kat claimed it was her best breakfast of South America and I would feign to agree on that particulargh point, I would there, don`t you know¿. With intentions of reuniting for a Salar de Uyuni tour I farewelled the Poles, then headed to check out a resort/camping below the pueblo called Altai Oasis, which it certainly was, but charged a whopping 30 BolivianoS (BS) a night.... to camp! I met Anna and Julie from Marseilles, who were leaving to Laguna Glacial the following day then dined with them and Arys before again drinking rum and Cola-Quina and exploring musical domains together - I think I burst the girls` bubbles` by telling them Continental European folk musician Beirut is actually from the US. But my friends very graciously avoided speaking (much) in French out of respect for me, noice. :=) Anna had worked as a clothes model, being photographed in such places as Bali and the slums of Mumbai, and is ridiculously guudlooking.

The next day I finally got to starting some Spanish study, flirted with the idea of a trek descending into Madidi NP with Arys and then abandoned it and instead hit the computer game arcades for insanely cheap thrills - one game token was 4c. Ahh, memories of a youngster, but things have changed so much since I was a boy... back in my day it was Street Fighter 2 and 1942. Nowadays the kids are spolit I tell you - now it`s Street Fighter vs Marvel and Tekken... 2!! But it was comforting to see an oldie but a trippy, Cadillacs and Dinosaurs, based on the comic, Cadillacs and Dinosaurs. Check it out. That night I met Leo and Margaret from Holland doing the very expensive but awesome-looking 2-day downhill mountain bike session from Sorata then 3-day boat ride through the lowland junglE and Madidi to Rurrenbaque - jealous.

I transferred out of Las Piedras to Arys`s Panchito - cheaper with a kitchen - and then realised I`d left my sandals at Piedras. Upon returning not 2hrs later the girl told me she`d thrown them in the bin!! `You`ll have to go up to the skip up the top of the hill because my boyfriend took the rubbish up there`, but of course my sandals weren`t there. By chance boyfriend passed by and tried to tell me that the garbos probably emptied the bin, even though it was still full. Then, `Oh, they might by at my uncle`s place across from the hostel`. He goes down, talks to his girlfriend, disappears into his uncle`s place then eventually reappears with my sandals in a plastic bag. Phew! What a )(/"@-around though, and I`m pretty sure it involved a lot of lying. Bolivia is such another world - another level of craziness, disorganisation and apathy. Many (and I refer to you, guidebooks) have raved about how amazing and undiscovered it is but with such morons living here it takes a lot of patience to not blow your top.

Arys had met a Mapiri Trail running-mate in Alex from Switzerland, and they organised a meeting for guiding services with our man from Laguna Chillata, Roberto (Roland), who of course didn`t show for his own party. After much hard-nosed bartering with Eugenio (Felix) they departed late the next morning (even for Bolivian time) with their sub-contracted (through Eugenio) guide, Roberto (Roland). Ha ha, so lame its funny. Their chosen trek had been described in the following ways "This is a harcore trek", and "Only for the dedicated athlete or masochist". Anna and Julie returned early from Glacial after receiving a large dose of weather and then departed the next day for La Spaz.

I spent a large chunk of my remaining time in Sorata staring into space... literally - Space, said in a ridiculous Latin Sean Connery voice, is the name of the cool cable TV channel here. I also read, studied Spanish and of course ate, including more awesome crepes from Las Piedras with enough rich chocolate sauce to drown in. At Cafe Illampu I brought a stick to smash the face of the dangerous dog there who`d bitten me in a previous unsuccessful visit a few days prior. The workers of course claimed the dog was barking at me because I`d brought a stick and it took several versions of explanation for them to understand that it had actually attacked me before that. Not that that actually motivated them to promise to do anything, of course. There I met Silke from Germany, another long-term traveller and I got some great Spanish practise in with her while dining on lush Chocolate cake and good coffee. I read a National Geographic article about an international Rapid Asessment Program assessing biodiversity in Peru`s Vilcabamba Range, where I`d done my epic trek. The pompous authors claimed the only access was by river and also that the Incans had not altered the natural balance of the area... Aaaahahahaha! Such a romantic view of pre-European cultures that is absolutely bullshit. Later at dinner we met Bert and Kris from Belgium, recently returned from an underwhelming trip to Laguna Chillata and we discussed the controlling and dishonest machinations of Sorata`s Association of Guides, of which we weren`t the only complainants - others suggested they had orchestrated robberies on local treks to discourage independent hiking.

In Sorata`s plaza announcers for transport to La Paz call "Pa-la-pa-la-pa La Paz!" at the top of their voices from the dark of 5am to 6pm. They are like startled hens, squawking their message every 5-15 seconds, even though everyone is aware of the ease of obtaining this transport regularly and fromwhere it leaves. This phenomenon was a great source of mirth for all of us. Sorata also appeared to have been built by 5ft tall dwarves, as the clearance for many of the ceilings/doorways (including my rooms` doors) were at about 5`11", just the right height to trick me into not ducking and subsequently gouging or scraping my shaven skull. Bullshit. After several of these incidences a large scab had formed on my top. I took a walk uphill to the town`s lookout and saw The Mule on the way. After lunching up there I again forgot to duck exiting the shelter and most thoroughly scraped a large porciòn of skin/scab off my scalp. Arrrrgh!! Lots of cryin` over spilt blood.

On the Monday morning Bert, Kris and I left for La Paz. It was quite rewarding to finally get on a bus "Pa, pa, pa La Paz!". We arrived , split to our respective hostels, I to Hostel Sleep, which turned out to be anything but - a local disco belting until 3am and the worst bed I`d slept on since arriving in America. The next morning I met with Arys to hear of his and Alex`s Mapiri adventure where they`d been rained on every day. It sounded like they had 3 days of 5 in a similar vein to my parama-jungle battle in Ecuador. But it sounded like it was a great experience! We all had awesome Moroccan that evening and I finally discovered the prime La Paz coffee experience - a double Italian capuchino from Cafe Berlin. I spent many frustrated hours in internet cafes running other peoples errands which also included a visit to the Australian Consulate in Bolivia. I marvelled at The Scorpions, German purveyors of the fine hit `Winds of Change` from the fall of the Wall period, and now touring Bolivia. Hmmmm. And Bolivia wants them too - talk about starved of action. I transferred to The Point party hostel which, having less people than THe Loki turned out a lot more relaxed but still essentially the same thing. There in the morning I met Alise from Brazil who then left for the World`s Most Dangerous Bike Ride and promptly stacked it on her first corner and knocked herself out. Sounds like my kind of gig!! I met Kasper and Zuren from Switzerland and Germany, also travelling to Uyuni that evening, and they, Bert and I got the same overnight bus down to Uyuni - it wasn´t terrible comfortable for any of us but at least I got a little sleep. At the flatness of the town itself Bert and I transferred to the hostel where Martin and Kat were staying and finished arranging our respective tours. As we ate breakfast we reunited with the Poles and caught up, all excited to be about to kick off our tours!

Sorata - Lakatia - Titisani Mine - Laguna Glaciàl - Laguna Chillata - Sorata: 26/08 - 28/08

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Our organiser/transporter, , arrived with Bolivian punctuality (20 minutes late), we loaded the 4wd and ascended from Sorata to Lakatia, a cute but tiny pueblo subcribing to the local culture of asking for sweets and/or money from hikers. We had gained around 1300m of altitude and all agreed it was worth paying for the transport up there to save ourselves an arduous and not terribly rewarding climb.

The trail wound gradually up and around the mountain. Rough grey rock jagged out of the straw/brown coloured vegetation on a grey foggy day. The landscape was different again from my other high Andean experiences, and it was very interesting indeed to observe the slow evolution of the vegetation as I journeyed south. Epic rock ridgelines fell into the steep valley. We came to an ancient set of ruins and stopped for a bite and gulp of water.

The directions from our guide/driver, maps, guidenotes all managed to confuse us a little, but following our man`s direction we turned uphill to find "a narrow pass between impassable rocks above and below" - the path wasn`t terribly clear but we figured we were at least in the right area and if not entirely correct would find the path soon enough. The ascent was steep and tough with heavy packs and we had to stop for re-assessment often. Our options were soon quite slim and eventually we had to climb steeply for a good 1/2 hour to what we though was the pass. Well, it was a pass, and it brought us to a deep-bowl valley encircled by a sharp ridgeline and lunchtime. Directly ahead of us were the tunnels and basic rock constructions of an active tin mine.

After eating we picked the easiest ascent, transversed and smashed it up the loose rocks to our pass, where two distinct micro-atmospheres met to create the vertical rise of the grey cloud from the photo at left. As I`d arrived first I benefitted from a moment of visual clarity in the swirling clouds to see a very steep drop of some 400m to the next valley. There was a clear path. I was sure this was part of our route and once the others arrived we discussed our options. In the fog we could see nothing, but searched in vain for a glimpse of Lake Chillata or at least a landmark with which to concur with our maps/guidenotes.

A tight track wound precariously down to volcanic boulder scree from where we could descend to the path, and eventually after some discussion I decided to leave my pack and head down into the grey on a reconnaisance mission. I rockhopped/goated it down, found the path and also some recent ruins of miners` stone huts. Running around the valley I soon discovered there was no lake. The others soon followed me down, Arys shouldering my heavy pack and his on the steep and treacherous rocks. More exploration including a quick mission by myself to the closest pass revealed no lake - we eventually decided we`d short-cut the trail and were above the Laguna Chillata. This wasn`t such a bad thing but meant we wouldnt have our security for the next day up the mountain.

We set camp, cooked yummy pasta, ate luxuriously-heavy tinned peaches and drank all of a $2 and 700ml bottle of rum-flavoured cordial (i drank about a cup and felt mildly inebriated). Then out came Arys` secret weapon - a battery-powered Ipood speaker that kicked quite well and we grooved to my `Pathfinder` CD amongst other great music. Previous inhabitants of the ruins had procured wood so we were able to bliss out beside the merry blaze well into the evening which was a god-sent at 4450m.

That night Arys` took one for the team, saying he would stay, guard our camp and take San Pedro for his first time while we the others day-tripped to Glacial. But I didn`t really think this was too fair, so the next morning I rose at daybreak in foggy sub-zero to run back to Lake Chillata to retrieve our local security man at the arranged 700am time. The sky directly around us was clear and gave great views of the Illampu range, and upon reaching the pass I came across a blanket of clouds over the Bolivian Altiplano to the south and a beautiful full moon. The sun`s rays created subtle rainbow hues on the morning blue canvass. I eventually got to Chillata, met a French couple also on their way up and soon after encountered Rolan, who graciously agreed to a return with me to camp to guard our stuff. Cheers mate!! We arrived at camp to rousing cheers from my companions, very grateful for what I`d done.

After breakfast Arys and I drank San Pedro (I slightly less than he) and we set off for the 700m ascent. 30 minutes into our walk Arys had to sit down. He wasn`t feeling so well and couldn`t keep up the necessary pace to achieve the Lake and return - as such the Poles continued upwards while I stayed with him to make sure he was OK. As we sat the medicine really kicked in, but it was too much for my fine and feathered French friend and he returned the contents of his stomach to Pacha Mama. After that he was finished for the day. After ensuring he was mentally and physically capable of looking after himself, we farewelled and I took off quick smart upways to catch up with Poland. 20 metres later I too vomitted, but not very much - most of the cactus remained inside me still. I soon passed the French couple and their guide (we played leap frog quite a bit that day) to catch up with Kataryna and Martin.

The ascent was amazing, beautiful, a little dangerous and very draining for me. It was as though with every metre of altitude gained the San Pedro took a greater hold on me. Bluff after bluff we reached, and with each one we expected to find or at least see from afar the lake. For me, this Huachuma journey was about the learnings. I felt like I was a vessel for both plant and animal spirits which joined with synergy in my body. I could feel our wooden strength rooting into the rocks as I walked. The stark beauty of the icy streams, incredible lichens and varied geology was a completely new experience for me. Clouds swirled around Illampu and Ancuma but down below we`d been blessed with perfect weather. The sun climbed as we did and at 5000m + reflected off the snow incredibly brightly. We passed a huge glacier field coming down from Illampu and drank from its icy and healing water. I felt like this mountain and glacier was very healing and again felt the chronic tension in the left side of my head release in bliss. As we achieved more and more high points I began to wonder if maybe the lake was a hoax, created as a joke by locals to lure tourists into the dangerous heights. :) Paranoid much? But I had read that the lake is sacred and should not be visited during the new moon. My paranoia developed into a full fear of seeing something I was not allowed to and I felt that by doing so we might break some sort of spiritual law and make badness. But I kept my breathing strong as I knew it was the key to both getting to the lake and remaining sane. I set my jaw and pushed through - during the final few steps towards the first grand view of the lake and glacier I felt the fear melt and convert to inexplicable confidence and joy. It was like the glacier itself was greeting us. We`d arrived!!!!!

Unspeakable joy and beauty, something like I`d never felt and certainly, definitely sacred. I soon let go and cried with the joy of that place. A large grey/blue lake between the two awesome snow-pyramids of Illampu and Ancuma; the slowly melting chandelier glacier was comprised of inconceivable ice-formations that danced in my vision like bailarinas with extraordinary brilliance; a gigantic grey/silver rock scree amphitheatre surrounding it all. Pinks, blues and whites. Everywhere was a beautiful photo, it seemed. Absolutely fantastic. The spirits of the mountains had blessed us greatly to allow us here, and I felt that at this point I had been given permission to completely lose my human reservations and become wild again.

Encroaching clouds signalled the end of our magic weather and lunch - we soon packed and returned back from whence we came. As I was in the midst of my mescaline trip I advised Martin and Kat that I would need to stick to them like glue if was to return to camp without losing my way or my life - I would certainly not be the Pathfinder. Like this we descended - each metre down an easier breath and a clearer mind as I slowly returned to my body. The Poles were a god-sent - I certainly would`ve been literally lost without them as fatigue took me over & my mind struggled to stay in the moment, straying to many different thoughts and taking critical attention away from my feet and the path. But upon my request we took many breaks and restricted the short-cutting and hence were able to finally arrive back at camp in the late light.

Rolan had just left and Arys lay blissfully in the tent, still cruising on his way back from San Pedro. Soon we had filled each other in on our respective days, Arys having enjoyed the silence and sun away from camp before returning not long before us to farewell Rolan. Then I discovered a classic progressive house track from the halcyon days - Orbital`s `Halcyon On & On`. Awesome, can`t believe I hadn`t heard it before. Also enjoyed crazy tunes from Poland, Manu Chau, some `San Pedro` music and Daft Punk`s `Homework` `Around the world, around the worrrld` :). We soon retreated to our ruins to shelter from the cold and eat mushy pasta and dark chocolate before an essential fire, more great tunes and coca tea. I was physically and mentally exhausted and couldn`t really help much - activity was reduced to 10 second spurts before lapsing against another passing thought train. A fantasmagorical day.

Sleep wasn`t entirely wholesome that evening but at least I was able to go to `the Big Boy`s bathroom` in the morning - what a relief! After a freezing clear morning we hiked to Lake Chillata for breakfast, then continued down, down, d-down, down (via some concerns over our route and a few Arys-led short-cuts) to stumble back to Sorata.

La Paz - Sorata (San Pedro Cave): 18/08 - 26/08

Happy Birthday Oisin! 7 years old 23/08/10

On this day La Paz` imposing mountain guardian was not so visible as I oriented myself and walked down into the manic city centre to find the Loki Hostel, one of the many party hostels in La Paz. It seems tourism in Bolivia is quite under-developed, except for expensive La Paz tour companies offering a choice of the following: mountain biking (mainly "The World`s Most Dangerous Road"; hiking around 3 or 4 routes; Salar de Uyuni (world`s biggest salt flat) tours; Jungle/pampas tours (always to Rurrenbaque). And then also people go to see cholitas (Bolivian señoritas) wrestling and visit the San pedro prison to take coke and marvel at the conditions of the subject of the book "Marching Powder". So if you go to La Paz that`s pretty much it - for all of Bolivia. No wonder most of the tourist population resort to party hostels and drinking, then pretend they loved Bolivia.


But the Loki was secure, central and packed with lots of mostly English speaking terrorists. The hostal is a beautifully renovated old building with a lively bar on Level 2 and the world`s highest oxygen bar above that. It was a great relief to dump my stuff and hit the city market for 80c fresh tropical fruits salad and 80c beef stew and rice. I also discovered humitas, a heartier baked version of tamales with cheese inside... mmm! The next day involved my usual hunt for the town`s best coffee with lukewarm results, a visit to the biggest cinema in Bolivia (2 screens) to choose from some canine cartoon (but I was already sick to death of dog shit) or Big Lips Jolie in Who is Salt¿ Good question. Another good question might be when will Hollywood be brought to justice for its consistent crimes against the environment (consumption) and general good taste?


The next day I visited Namas Te, a brightly and creatively hippy cafe/bar/playspace/residencial in a kind of mechanical sector but still close to town and indulge in a massive juice and soy `tinto` (the worst form of ultra-concentrated and bitter coffee). This soon made me vomit several times but I did wonder if extra factors wereñ`t at play in that there stomache. The sun recuperated me well though and that afternoon was entirely taken up on a freeeekn computer, doing stuff, things and writing my blog about updating my blog.

Loki has a nimpressive home cinema and several times I joined the slothing masses for various films there. Whilst in the culinary capital de Bolivia I decided to peruse some of the many international restaurants like Thai, Japanese, Moroccan, Mexican and steakhouse action. I finally settled on Thai in a lovely restaurant - unfortunately the food was too salty but still a fine dining experience for Bolivia. I net-searched pharmaceutical treatments for Giardia on the internet, went to a farmacy and bought and swallowed the tablets. They cost me $3, a metallic taste in the mouth, dehydration and 3 days of wiped-out anti-biotic hangover - yay!

I saw a women`s march in La Paz which brought out even more of the generic gun-toters of La Paz who make up at least half the population and I assume a huge chunk of Bolivia`s GDP. These being security guards, police of many types and the military. You all have small penises and/or flat arses. La Paz to me is kind of like a cross between Quito and Bogota. Filthy toileted streets, lots of beggars but refreshingly not many gringo-hunting fops - definitely gringo prices though. Like Lima the streets struggled to contain the surge of polluting diesel buses and vans in transit to various suburbs.

After taking a pounding from the antibiotics I finally left La Spaz for Sorata on the Tuesday, catching a 3 hour van from the Cemetery area. Beforehand though I had time to explore the local market with all kind of great produce and weird Bolivian stuffs - I was interviewed by persons with a camera for TV or something regarding what I thought of the market.

Sorata is a pretty little town set above a valley under Illampu and Ancuma, the impressive glaciated peaks of the Cordillera Real. I found my gringo hostel Las Piedras, an attractive abode pretty much done to perfection, save the midget clearance doorways and beds consisting of wooden slats, 2 inches of foam and some straw. Pete`s Place, (sort-of) run by two fat TV addicts, proved a wealth of guidebooks and maps from around the continent but failed to become the hoped-for meeting place for other trekkers. There I found out there had been a history of theft and armed robbery on treks in the area despite Sorata`s reputation for being the trekking Mecca of Bolivia. Later investigations revelealed that the local guides association was strongly suspected of orchestrating some of these robberies to ensure would-be independent trekkers continued to pay up the bucks. Ahh, guides... sometimes useful to have but... often arrogant, not knowledgable, will sabotage self-guided walks (removing way posts, signs etc) to get business and generally quite expensive. Not a fan in general I am.

My next day I spent walking to and experiencing the San Pedro Cave. Soon after starting I met Arys from France and Kataryna and Martin from Poland, also off to the cave. We stopped at Cafe Illampu, a Swiss-owned bakery with great bread, delicious cakes and coffees. The walk to the cave was reputedly beautiful but I was mildly underwhelmed, a thick smoke haze from the yearly idiocracy of campesinos burning their land definitely contributed to this impression. The walk past pleasantly with the Europeans though as we discussed travel anecdotes and plans and pleaded to the big white stone-Jesus that he didn`t jump into the abyss below :)

The cave is home to 2 rare bat species, one that feeds on mammalian blood... We descended into a grand hall with warm, dank air, impressive rock formations and stalagnights/tights/bites. We paddled boated on the little lake with crystal clear water then explored the nooks and crannies as we could. As we were all feeling very much at one with the universe we decided to create a timeless timelapse of masterpiece photography, spelling out our simple yet profound message to the world - see top photo.

We gladly saved legs by catching a ute back to town and I committed myself to the group`s plans to make the 3-day Glacial Lake hike starting the next day. As such we shopped for supplies, ate amazing pizza, retired for the night, got up and drank a pint of coffee at Las Piedras before readying ourselves for the hike.