Friday, December 3, 2010
Krista Visits Part 1
After the long but not devastating 22 hour bus ride from Salta to Buenos
Aires I checked into Millhouse Hostel, showered and waited for Krista to arrive. Around 4:30 PM she walked in the door and walked right passed; she didn't recognize me with dark hair. We settled in then went out in search of a vegetarian meal. It is so nice to be with someone of a similar mindset, who craves the same foods that are on your mind. We found (with the help of those at the front desk) La Escuina de la Flores, a delicious restaurant with organic wines and a solid selection of veg entrees. We loved it!! Then retired for an early evening. Thankfully, I booked us a private double room for her first two days so we were able to relax and sleep in amongst the silence until we decided it was time to get up.
Day two with Krista was spent with numerous layers upon layers in an attempt to escape the chill. We wondered around various neighborhoods in BA sampling a bit of the local cusine and doing our best to stay dry despite the on and off showers. We spent a good amount of time trying to decide our next move as she only had less than two weeks before she had to head home. We finally settled upon going to Uruguay for a couple days then making our way to Iguazu falls. The next day we were up at 7 and at the ferry by 8 in an attempt to procure tickets to Colonia, Uruguay. Due to the previous day´s storm there were major delays. We were finally to get tickets for the 12:30 Buquebus (the massive ferry), too bad it didn't leave until 2 PM... Colonia was a cute little town without much going on, We walked around took a few photos and attempted to avoid the rain. Then found a yummy veg place, shared a bottle of wine then hopped on a local bus for the hour journey to Montevideo.
Aires I checked into Millhouse Hostel, showered and waited for Krista to arrive. Around 4:30 PM she walked in the door and walked right passed; she didn't recognize me with dark hair. We settled in then went out in search of a vegetarian meal. It is so nice to be with someone of a similar mindset, who craves the same foods that are on your mind. We found (with the help of those at the front desk) La Escuina de la Flores, a delicious restaurant with organic wines and a solid selection of veg entrees. We loved it!! Then retired for an early evening. Thankfully, I booked us a private double room for her first two days so we were able to relax and sleep in amongst the silence until we decided it was time to get up.
Day two with Krista was spent with numerous layers upon layers in an attempt to escape the chill. We wondered around various neighborhoods in BA sampling a bit of the local cusine and doing our best to stay dry despite the on and off showers. We spent a good amount of time trying to decide our next move as she only had less than two weeks before she had to head home. We finally settled upon going to Uruguay for a couple days then making our way to Iguazu falls. The next day we were up at 7 and at the ferry by 8 in an attempt to procure tickets to Colonia, Uruguay. Due to the previous day´s storm there were major delays. We were finally to get tickets for the 12:30 Buquebus (the massive ferry), too bad it didn't leave until 2 PM... Colonia was a cute little town without much going on, We walked around took a few photos and attempted to avoid the rain. Then found a yummy veg place, shared a bottle of wine then hopped on a local bus for the hour journey to Montevideo.
Mega Bus Adventure Across Argentina
Longest bus ride!!! A solid 22 hours from Salta to Buenos Aires. The bus company promised vegetarian food about 400 times and then never delivered. I must have looked devastated when the conductor brought the meaty food around because I could tell he felt badly. He kept making me tea and bringing me snacks of crackers and cookies. Not exactly a veg meal but it was a nice gesture.
I met a really sweet Mama and daughter on the bus and hung out with them. Maria (mom) is from Bolivia but now they all live in Sweden. Cool folks. Amanda (daughter) is only 16 and knows about 5 languages- so awesome. They were my pals along the long venture and even requested movies in English (they said they were too corny when dubbed over in Spanish). Mama Maria even bought me an ice cream at one of the stops! The people truly make the place and these lovely people made all the places from Salta to Buenos Aires lovely!
I met a really sweet Mama and daughter on the bus and hung out with them. Maria (mom) is from Bolivia but now they all live in Sweden. Cool folks. Amanda (daughter) is only 16 and knows about 5 languages- so awesome. They were my pals along the long venture and even requested movies in English (they said they were too corny when dubbed over in Spanish). Mama Maria even bought me an ice cream at one of the stops! The people truly make the place and these lovely people made all the places from Salta to Buenos Aires lovely!
Salta, Argentina August 2010
Finally, a much needed shower with piping hot water. I met all the folks staying in my dorm room before I took off to wash, after I was clean but before makeup, one of the boys re-introduced himself to me. Weird, I thought but ok. Later he confessed that he didn't recognize me at all because when I first came in he though i was a hippie chick with dreads... WOW! Dude, it was a really long and hard journey for us but from now on I will really make it a point to cleanse myself more often than the point which my hair may be confused with dreads... Bad…
The hostel was supposed to have a rad BBQ and great veg food so my buddy Rauld and I agreed to head upstairs to participate. Unfortunately, there was some confusion and no veg food was offered. After all disasters with veg food in the Salar, I was no longer willing to fight. Instead, I
drank wine along side the lettuce and tomatoes I was served... After a glass or so and a bit of nasty fernet (the nearly official drink of Argentina) we decided to go out. As we were an entire dorm room of people there were far too many of us to fit in a cab so (thanks to Rauld) we got a man in a pick-up truck to haul the lot of us to the club and dump us off right in front of a heap of cops (who could have cared less). The first bar was crowded but fun, good Salta beer and convo. Then to club XXI, mega fun, dancing loads with locals and my little German gal pal, Veronica. Finally made our way home in the wee hours of the morn around 5:45 AM.
The hostel was supposed to have a rad BBQ and great veg food so my buddy Rauld and I agreed to head upstairs to participate. Unfortunately, there was some confusion and no veg food was offered. After all disasters with veg food in the Salar, I was no longer willing to fight. Instead, I
drank wine along side the lettuce and tomatoes I was served... After a glass or so and a bit of nasty fernet (the nearly official drink of Argentina) we decided to go out. As we were an entire dorm room of people there were far too many of us to fit in a cab so (thanks to Rauld) we got a man in a pick-up truck to haul the lot of us to the club and dump us off right in front of a heap of cops (who could have cared less). The first bar was crowded but fun, good Salta beer and convo. Then to club XXI, mega fun, dancing loads with locals and my little German gal pal, Veronica. Finally made our way home in the wee hours of the morn around 5:45 AM.
En Route to Argentina
After a solid seven hours of bone jarring and teeth rattling in the Land Rover, our trip to the Salar came to a conclusion and we arrived back in the lovely pit also known as, Uyuni. I hadn't wanted to spend more than a couple hours there the first day and was certainly not keen on hanging out for any additional leisure time. On our way back from the Salar we picked up a little French gal who told us that the protests and roadblocks were significantly worse than a few days prior and that there was no way our bus to the Argentinian border would be able to leave Uyuni tonight. The sassy little wench was so adamant about the lack of possibility that she nearly had my friend Rould hoping on a combi to Chile so as to avoid the mess all together. This would have left me to brave the situation alone, something that I wasn´t terribly excited about. We spoke to several locals who had just come from the area the girl said was blocked and all refuted her information. Frenchi was not too thrilled on being wrong and thus the sassiness was only exasperated by these replies. We decided she was full of crap and that we would stick to the original plan. Immediately upon arrival back in Uyuni we checked in with the bus office and discovered all was a go!!! Momentary relief ensued. At this point I should mention that we were about to embark upon another tour of the silky smooth Bolivian country side but this time via a public bus (at the time of purchase tourist bus tickets didn't appear to be an option). Promptly, at nine PM we loaded up and took off, my first punctual experience in South America! Due to the fact that we were still cruising through the Altiplano in the dead of winter, I decided to don five pair of pants and equally as many tops, including several coats, a scarf, a couple hats and gloves. I looked hot in every sense of the word. We also found a stash of alpaca blankets provided by the bus company in an effort to protect against the cold. After wrapping my legs, I prayed the thing wasn't lay den with small pox or some other delightful disease... As it turns out all was completely necessary as the driver repeatedly insisted upon opening the windows to let the chill in... My layers were also beneficial in providing cushioning from the shock of the bus bounding down the pock marked road. Buses here soar down roads that appear to be comprised mainly of speed bumps with little regard for the ill effects such jarring may have on machine or mammal. The concussion your body receives each time the bus actually touches down is probably equivalent to that inflicted by shaken baby syndrome. Roughly ten hours later Rould and I rolled into the border town of Tupiza at the glorious hour of 7 AM. A quick walk of 5 or 10 blocks and there she was, Argentina, in all her glory! I don't know what it is about this country but it has been calling my name for months, maybe years... Agh a fresh breath of air, I was finally there. The border crossing was easy as pie and Rould and I could hardly contain our excitement, EVERYTHING was cleaner, nicer and better developed here and we had only come 50 yards into the country! At this point I was lugging wayyy too much crap with me (I had collected souvenirs for Krista to take back with her) and was struggling beneath my forty layers of clothing and copious bags as we made our way to the bus station in La Quaca??? or something like that, the border town on the Argentinian side. Being Saturday morning and all, the one and only bank was not open and we were left without enough cash to purchase our necessary bus tickets! Positive thoughts and prayers helped immensely as we arrived at the station we met a man willing to exchange our few Bolivianos for Arg. Pesos (albeit at a very poor rate) and then were able to buy bus tix on a credit card ($20 for 7 hours) Woo hoo! We only had to wait about five minutes until we boarded our bus to Salta, Argentina. Rould bought us some nasty fried dough for breakfast, a sweet gesture though... The bus was lovely and spacious and the roads in Argentina are actually paved!
About two hours into our seven hour journey to Salta, I woke from the first bit of real restful sleep I had in days because I realized we were stopped and people
were all a bother with something. I waited it out for about 20 minutes by watching some terrible Nicholas Cage movie about the end of the world. Then finally asked some girl what was up and can you even imagine my astonishment when she said there was some sort of political protest and the road was blocked? Yeah, not surprised... After about an hour or so we managed to somehow make it passed the mess in the street and continue on our way to Salta. Finally, a few hours late and really dirty, still wearing the four pair of pants I'd been in for the past several days, we made it safely to Salta! Raold and I looked at each other and both exclaimed in glee that we were "finally in Argentina!!!" Raold and I attempted to find a hostel based on the guide book's outdated recommendations which only resorted in a useless cab ride and subsequent 45 minute with all our crap on a mission to find another hostel... We finally found Terra Oculta, a tiny joint with only dorm space available. I was over walking and gladly accepted! Woo hoo my new home for a couple days!
About two hours into our seven hour journey to Salta, I woke from the first bit of real restful sleep I had in days because I realized we were stopped and people
were all a bother with something. I waited it out for about 20 minutes by watching some terrible Nicholas Cage movie about the end of the world. Then finally asked some girl what was up and can you even imagine my astonishment when she said there was some sort of political protest and the road was blocked? Yeah, not surprised... After about an hour or so we managed to somehow make it passed the mess in the street and continue on our way to Salta. Finally, a few hours late and really dirty, still wearing the four pair of pants I'd been in for the past several days, we made it safely to Salta! Raold and I looked at each other and both exclaimed in glee that we were "finally in Argentina!!!" Raold and I attempted to find a hostel based on the guide book's outdated recommendations which only resorted in a useless cab ride and subsequent 45 minute with all our crap on a mission to find another hostel... We finally found Terra Oculta, a tiny joint with only dorm space available. I was over walking and gladly accepted! Woo hoo my new home for a couple days!
Salar de Uyuni
After several days in La Paz I decided it was time to move on… sadly, this was easier said than done. Once again the country was up in arms and there were massive strikes blocking nearly every road leading out of the capital city. My friend, Berenice, and I spent the better part of the next several days running back and forth between various travel agencies, bus companies and hostels looking for developments in the strikers situation as well as a potential way out of the city. Eventually, we just booked a bus and prayed that the rumored alternative route to Uyuni would actually come to pass and we would be able to leave. Uyuni a small town in the southwest of Bolivia that is the last civilized stop before the Salar, the worlds largest salt flats (greater than 4,000 sq miles).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salar_de_Uyuni
Our positive thoughts paid off and last minute we were told that our bus would leave that night would probable be the only night in the next week or so that the secondary route would be open. Berenice and I jumped on it! Soon enough we were bumping along another unpaved and heavily rutted road in Bolivia. We had chosen to go with a ¨tourist bus,¨which was said to provide comforts such as hot dinner, warm blankets and a climate controlled cabin. Too bad they forgot to mention that the temperature was to be controlled at a balmy 32 degrees Fahrenheit. So, once again I had the opportunity to sleep next to a bus window with a thick layer of frost on the inside. Thrilling, as you know how much I thoroughly enjoy the cold… Bright and early, we rolled into the lackluster, brown, little hole of a town, Uyuni. I made friends with a few other travelers and we quickly set off to book our excursion to the Salar. Somehow I was elected to be head communicator and negotiator because I possessed what appeared to be the best Spanish skills of the group. Said ¨skills¨ were somehow mistaken my keen aptitude for miming and piecing together bits of Spanish and a falsified self confidence that those with whom I was speaking actually understood me. Regardless, I got the job done and we went with a sly tour operator who appeared to be about a half-step more honest than the rest. Prior to paying anything I confirmed in both Spanish as well as English that there would be no more than the members of our group plus our driver in our vehicle and that adequate vegetarian food would be provided each day. Happy to have all of our demands met, we went to eat lunch and find a place to stay for the night. At half nine the next morning we met the tour operator so we could set off on our journey. I really shouldn´t have been terribly surprised when we arrived and there was another man waiting to jump in our 4runner. This, of course, was arranged by our tour operator… I lost it and nearly ripped off his head… now, please keep in mind that I had just spent another night freezing in a hotel with walls that were probably made of cardboard; the insane cold and incredible altitude were really starting to get to me… Unfortunately, all my piss and vinegar wasn´t enough to get the man to stick to his word. So after a few final scathing looks shot in his direction, I pasted a smile on my face and warmly welcomed our new group member, Alex from Spain, into our truck. He quickly assimilated with our group that now consisted of 6 members, Roald from the Netherlands, Sarah from England, Elisha and Ursula from Ireland and of course Alex and myself. Within a few short minutes we were all very grateful for Alex´s presence not only for his charming attitude but also for his Spanish speaking abilities. Phew the pressure to be the sole communicator with our Spanish speaking driver was now shifted… My miming abilities would be shelved for another day. The drive was incredible, the great white plane of the salt flats appeared to stretch to the end of the earth. Beautiful. This backdrop was not only lovely but also provided ample opportunity to pose for cheesy, trick photography photos (see previous post for the hundreds of pics we took with this backdrop). We stopped for lunch at Fish Island, a literal island in the sea of salt that is nearly covered in cactus.
The journey across the flats was really quite enjoyable aside from the music selection provided by our driver. Apparently, he didn´t get the message that the Backstreet Boys are kind of the opposite of cool… either that or he was confused and thought that he was toting around a group of 13 year old American girls in the late 90s. What made this situation even more enjoyable was the fact that he kept that one CD on repeat for the full three-day adventure. Our first night was spent in a salt hotel, actually just a freezing cold, tiny home made of salt bricks, a cool concept but one better left for observation than tested. We played cards for hours in an attempt to entertain ourselves before dinner, which was of course, a meat-fest. Oops they forgot that I was vegetarian, again… Solution? Surprise; a fried egg and potatoes. Yum. Not. That night we expected insane cold because of elevation so we donned nearly every layer of clothing available then the ladies and I pushed our beds together in hopes of conserving body heat… Success! We were warm and toasty all night!
Day two was full of even more incredible sights, pink flamingos, coloured lakes, amazing rock formations... and then we continued up and up and up! This night was INSANELY cold because we were at such a high elevation (every time someone describes the Salar they will tell you how incredible the salt flats are, the lakes, the birds and how they have never been so cold in their lives!). I was wearing so many layers of tights I had a hard time sitting down. Once again they ¨forgot¨to make veg food for me and came out with a plate of hot dogs, eggs and onions. Wow imagine how tempting that looked... it was really hard to turn that plate away...
Day three was ridiculous. Our 5 AM wake up call came far too early and despite the fact that the jeep had been on and running for quite some time the inside was about what I would expect to feel if I took my clothes off and ran around the north pole. Ohh how I love the cold... lies... all lies... We stopped someplace that looked like Mars to take a few fotos of the geysers then a few hours later we arrived to the hot springs where we would be having breakfast. I guess if I were insane I would have taken off all those layers of clothes that I had worked so hard to warm, donned a bathing suit and jumped in the hot springs but here is the thing, I am not crazy and I know that even though that hot water probably feels really good while you are in it, you will eventually have to get out and then your soggy, nearly naked body will be exposed to the elements and you will be much worse for the wear... I mean honestly, that is nuts! I watched a guy climb out and in the time it took him to layer up ice had formed in his hair! Ummm no thank you.
So, remember the aforementioned strikes that had closed down several roads leading away from La Paz? Well, three days later things had apparently gotten worse and now we were hearing rumors that after we returned to Uyuni we would not be able to get out of the town because not only was the train stopped indefinitely but now all roads leading to Argentina had been blocked as well. Oh for the love! I just needed to get out of Bolivia! Normally, I would have just chilled and waited it out but I only had a few days to get to Buenos Aires where I was to meet my friend Krista from home.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salar_de_Uyuni
Our positive thoughts paid off and last minute we were told that our bus would leave that night would probable be the only night in the next week or so that the secondary route would be open. Berenice and I jumped on it! Soon enough we were bumping along another unpaved and heavily rutted road in Bolivia. We had chosen to go with a ¨tourist bus,¨which was said to provide comforts such as hot dinner, warm blankets and a climate controlled cabin. Too bad they forgot to mention that the temperature was to be controlled at a balmy 32 degrees Fahrenheit. So, once again I had the opportunity to sleep next to a bus window with a thick layer of frost on the inside. Thrilling, as you know how much I thoroughly enjoy the cold… Bright and early, we rolled into the lackluster, brown, little hole of a town, Uyuni. I made friends with a few other travelers and we quickly set off to book our excursion to the Salar. Somehow I was elected to be head communicator and negotiator because I possessed what appeared to be the best Spanish skills of the group. Said ¨skills¨ were somehow mistaken my keen aptitude for miming and piecing together bits of Spanish and a falsified self confidence that those with whom I was speaking actually understood me. Regardless, I got the job done and we went with a sly tour operator who appeared to be about a half-step more honest than the rest. Prior to paying anything I confirmed in both Spanish as well as English that there would be no more than the members of our group plus our driver in our vehicle and that adequate vegetarian food would be provided each day. Happy to have all of our demands met, we went to eat lunch and find a place to stay for the night. At half nine the next morning we met the tour operator so we could set off on our journey. I really shouldn´t have been terribly surprised when we arrived and there was another man waiting to jump in our 4runner. This, of course, was arranged by our tour operator… I lost it and nearly ripped off his head… now, please keep in mind that I had just spent another night freezing in a hotel with walls that were probably made of cardboard; the insane cold and incredible altitude were really starting to get to me… Unfortunately, all my piss and vinegar wasn´t enough to get the man to stick to his word. So after a few final scathing looks shot in his direction, I pasted a smile on my face and warmly welcomed our new group member, Alex from Spain, into our truck. He quickly assimilated with our group that now consisted of 6 members, Roald from the Netherlands, Sarah from England, Elisha and Ursula from Ireland and of course Alex and myself. Within a few short minutes we were all very grateful for Alex´s presence not only for his charming attitude but also for his Spanish speaking abilities. Phew the pressure to be the sole communicator with our Spanish speaking driver was now shifted… My miming abilities would be shelved for another day. The drive was incredible, the great white plane of the salt flats appeared to stretch to the end of the earth. Beautiful. This backdrop was not only lovely but also provided ample opportunity to pose for cheesy, trick photography photos (see previous post for the hundreds of pics we took with this backdrop). We stopped for lunch at Fish Island, a literal island in the sea of salt that is nearly covered in cactus.
The journey across the flats was really quite enjoyable aside from the music selection provided by our driver. Apparently, he didn´t get the message that the Backstreet Boys are kind of the opposite of cool… either that or he was confused and thought that he was toting around a group of 13 year old American girls in the late 90s. What made this situation even more enjoyable was the fact that he kept that one CD on repeat for the full three-day adventure. Our first night was spent in a salt hotel, actually just a freezing cold, tiny home made of salt bricks, a cool concept but one better left for observation than tested. We played cards for hours in an attempt to entertain ourselves before dinner, which was of course, a meat-fest. Oops they forgot that I was vegetarian, again… Solution? Surprise; a fried egg and potatoes. Yum. Not. That night we expected insane cold because of elevation so we donned nearly every layer of clothing available then the ladies and I pushed our beds together in hopes of conserving body heat… Success! We were warm and toasty all night!
Day two was full of even more incredible sights, pink flamingos, coloured lakes, amazing rock formations... and then we continued up and up and up! This night was INSANELY cold because we were at such a high elevation (every time someone describes the Salar they will tell you how incredible the salt flats are, the lakes, the birds and how they have never been so cold in their lives!). I was wearing so many layers of tights I had a hard time sitting down. Once again they ¨forgot¨to make veg food for me and came out with a plate of hot dogs, eggs and onions. Wow imagine how tempting that looked... it was really hard to turn that plate away...
Day three was ridiculous. Our 5 AM wake up call came far too early and despite the fact that the jeep had been on and running for quite some time the inside was about what I would expect to feel if I took my clothes off and ran around the north pole. Ohh how I love the cold... lies... all lies... We stopped someplace that looked like Mars to take a few fotos of the geysers then a few hours later we arrived to the hot springs where we would be having breakfast. I guess if I were insane I would have taken off all those layers of clothes that I had worked so hard to warm, donned a bathing suit and jumped in the hot springs but here is the thing, I am not crazy and I know that even though that hot water probably feels really good while you are in it, you will eventually have to get out and then your soggy, nearly naked body will be exposed to the elements and you will be much worse for the wear... I mean honestly, that is nuts! I watched a guy climb out and in the time it took him to layer up ice had formed in his hair! Ummm no thank you.
So, remember the aforementioned strikes that had closed down several roads leading away from La Paz? Well, three days later things had apparently gotten worse and now we were hearing rumors that after we returned to Uyuni we would not be able to get out of the town because not only was the train stopped indefinitely but now all roads leading to Argentina had been blocked as well. Oh for the love! I just needed to get out of Bolivia! Normally, I would have just chilled and waited it out but I only had a few days to get to Buenos Aires where I was to meet my friend Krista from home.
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