After a tough journey to Copacabana we decided to take it easy for a few days. We did climb up the hill that overlooks Copa to see the amazing views of Lake Titicaca and the winding road that brought us into town winding through the mountains but aside from that we did nothing but rest and refuel. Copacabana beach is not quite up to the standards of its illustrious Brazilian namesake, but we found a great spot on the waterfront for a drink in the sun where we could watch the boats bobbing back from the Isla del Sol.
The next day we were on one of those boats on our way out to Isla del Sol, believed to be the birthplace of the first Incas. They must have been a fit bunch (or fitter than us at the very least) because the island rises steeply out of the lake and the only way to get anywhere is by clambering up the near-vertical paths and staircases that were built by Manco Capac and the other early Incas. We stayed in a hotel perched high up on the terraced hillside and had an amazing view of the lake and the some of the tallest mountains in Bolivia - Illimani, Aconhuma, Illampu, and Huayana Potosi, all of which are over 6,000m high. Given that Isla del Sol is only 6km long, and that it gets 363 days of sunshine a year, there was no excuse for not doing a few good walks so we strolled from one end of the island to the other and found a great cafe with views out over the Peruvian side of the lake.
After a few days of island life we returned to Copacabana and headed towards the border with Peru at a town called Yungayo. The crossing at Yungayo is without doubt the least intimidating border crossing we´ve come across on our trip: no armed guards, no high fences, no gates, no flags, not even a welcome sign. Just two small immigration offices and two lengths of chain that span the road to stop anyone driving straight through. It hardly felt like we were travelling between two different countries.
We´d heard a few reports from cyclists we´d met in Argentina and Chile that they got a frosty reception from the Peruvians, but thankfully during our first few days on the road here this hasn´t turned out to be the case. In Bolivia we kept on getting attacked by sherpherdesses for some reason. We encountered quite a few wild ladies with sheep in the hills between La Paz and Copacabana who hissed, threw stones, and chased us with sticks hurling incomprehensible Aymara insults at us. But in Peru everyone, including the sheep herders, has been very friendly so far. If anyone has an explanation for the hostile reception from shepherdesses we´d really like to hear it...
On our first night in Peru we stopped in Juli, a small town on the edge of the lake with five colonial churches, a great Sunday market and lots of people selling cups of jelly on the street. The day after we cycled on to Chicuito, just outside Puno, and spent the afternoon at a brilliant mirador with great views of the lake and the mountains beyond. Neither Juli nor Chicuito gets anything like the volume of tourists that you find in Copacabana or Puno, and it felt like the people there were far more welcoming as a result of not being swamped by outsiders.
The next morning we trundled round the edge of Lake Titicaca and into Puno, where we are having a rest before starting the ride through the Sacred Valley and up to Cusco. A few days ago we decided that we´ll stop cycling when we get to Cusco for a couple of reasons. Firstly we´ve heard that the road from Cusco to Lima is essentially a truck lane, so it´s not exactly scenic and certainly not a very fun place to be on a bike what with the fumes (rumour has it some trucks in Peru still run on coal) and the insane Peruvian truck drivers who have already demonstrated their disregard for cyclists amply. The other good thing is that it´ll mean that we get to spend a bit more time exploring Cusco and Lima, rather than staring at the back end of a truck.
Saturday 19 June 2010
Wednesday 9 June 2010
La Paz to Lake Titicaca
We´ve spent the last week and a half in noisy, busy La Paz. The capital is a crazy place, not just in terms of it´s location in a huge bowl where the houses cling to the sides of the steep hills and the streets are so steep you almost feel like you might fall off them but also the general chaos and traffic. Every street is lined with market stalls selling anything from freshly squeezed juices to dried baby vicunas (a bit like a llama but smaller). I don´t think I´ve ever seen so many buses and mini buses crammed with people, hanging out of every window and clinging to the roof racks. Most of the buses look like they´re on their last legs but they seem to defy gravity by hauling themselves up the precipitous hills. Must be the Virgin Mary figurines stuck to the dashboard. Every bus has a tout that hangs from the door of the bus shouting out the route. They have an amazing talent for talking unbelievably quickly, I think they´re all South American football commentators in the making. The micro touts, the endless honking horns and the bustling markets make La Paz an unforgettable, noisy and smelly place.
We left the bikes and all our luggage in La Paz last weekend to fit in a quick side trip to the beautiful whitewashed colonial city of Sucre. Sucre used to be the capital of Bolivia and a as a result has many grand old colonial buildngs and a beautiful cathedral. It´s called the white city of Bolivia as all of the houses and buildings are whitewashed making it seem far more civilised than bustling La Paz where haphazard houses seem to grow out of the steep hillsides. Our trip to Sucre coincided with the first vintage car rally so the main square was crowded with vintage cars from all over the country. All of the streets were closed off to traffic and for two days a variety of vintage cars in varying stages of decay raced around the streets of Sucre. It was a bit like being in Monte Carlo, except most of the cars seemed to have a maximum speed of about 30kmh and were forced at regular intervals to give way to packs of stray dogs lounging in the middle of the road or very old Bolivian ladies with huge bundles on their backs crossing the road very slowly.
After a great weekend in Sucre we bussed it back to La Paz for one final night before jumping back on our bikes and heading for Lake Titicaca, apparently the highest navigable lake in the world at 3800m. The border with Peru runs across the lake and we´re not sure if this is why the lake is dotted with Bolivian naval bases or because they´re still seriously bitter about having their bit of coast stolen by Chile and Peru and are plotting some extravagant naval manoeuvre to get it back. The only problem seems to be the lack of any serious military vessels. As far as we can tell the full extent of the naval training that goes on here is running tourist cruises across the lake on catamarans with on-board restaurants.
The Inca´s believed that Lake Titicaca was the birth place of the sun so it is considered a sacred lake and it´s not hard to see why. Backed by the huge snowy peaks of the Cordillera and with deep blue waters it is absolutely beautiful and so, so peaceful after the constant noise of La Paz. We´ve been looking forward to cycling Lake Titicaca for a long time, not just for the scenery but we imagined we´d be ambling along the shore side on gently rolling roads. Yeah right. Yesterday was an absolute killer. We had to take a bus 50kms or so out of La Paz to avoid being run over by one of the maniac bus drivers and were droppped off in Huatajata, a sleepy little fishing village on the shore of Lago Menor, the south eastern leg of Titicaca. We were hoping to make it to Copacabana, the main stopping off point on Titicaca, 70km away. After about 20km my visions of the gently rolling road were shattered. The next 50km saw us cycling up to 4300m and then being sent back down to 3800m to cross the Tiquina straits on a very rickety raft before going back up again to over 4300m. You cannot imagine how hard it is to cycle uphill against a headwind at over 4000m. It´s hard to breath let alone move your legs. We had to push our bikes in some parts as our legs had turned to lead and refused to pedal. We literally pushed for 100 metres and then stopped wheezing to catch our breath. I was seriously beginning to doubt whether we would make it to Copacabana that night and was less than amused at the thought of camping at over 4000m.
Luckily for us 7km from Copacabana and just as the light was dissapearing we had a long downhill into town, arriving just before sunset, Freezing cold and exhausted but relieved at narrowly escaping a chilly night in the tent we found a cheap hostel and a bowl of steaming quinoa soup. Copacabana is a sweet lakeside town, a bit like the real Copacabana only less bikinis and more Gore-Tex. Tomorrow we head off on a boat to Isla del Sol, the actual birth place of the sun. The island only has 200 inhabitants and there are no roads and no cars so it should be a lovely place to spend a few days exploring the many Inca ruins.
Next stop is Peru, the border is just 10km down the road. It´s our fourth and final country and we´re now something like 600km from Cusco and the finish line ....
We left the bikes and all our luggage in La Paz last weekend to fit in a quick side trip to the beautiful whitewashed colonial city of Sucre. Sucre used to be the capital of Bolivia and a as a result has many grand old colonial buildngs and a beautiful cathedral. It´s called the white city of Bolivia as all of the houses and buildings are whitewashed making it seem far more civilised than bustling La Paz where haphazard houses seem to grow out of the steep hillsides. Our trip to Sucre coincided with the first vintage car rally so the main square was crowded with vintage cars from all over the country. All of the streets were closed off to traffic and for two days a variety of vintage cars in varying stages of decay raced around the streets of Sucre. It was a bit like being in Monte Carlo, except most of the cars seemed to have a maximum speed of about 30kmh and were forced at regular intervals to give way to packs of stray dogs lounging in the middle of the road or very old Bolivian ladies with huge bundles on their backs crossing the road very slowly.
After a great weekend in Sucre we bussed it back to La Paz for one final night before jumping back on our bikes and heading for Lake Titicaca, apparently the highest navigable lake in the world at 3800m. The border with Peru runs across the lake and we´re not sure if this is why the lake is dotted with Bolivian naval bases or because they´re still seriously bitter about having their bit of coast stolen by Chile and Peru and are plotting some extravagant naval manoeuvre to get it back. The only problem seems to be the lack of any serious military vessels. As far as we can tell the full extent of the naval training that goes on here is running tourist cruises across the lake on catamarans with on-board restaurants.
The Inca´s believed that Lake Titicaca was the birth place of the sun so it is considered a sacred lake and it´s not hard to see why. Backed by the huge snowy peaks of the Cordillera and with deep blue waters it is absolutely beautiful and so, so peaceful after the constant noise of La Paz. We´ve been looking forward to cycling Lake Titicaca for a long time, not just for the scenery but we imagined we´d be ambling along the shore side on gently rolling roads. Yeah right. Yesterday was an absolute killer. We had to take a bus 50kms or so out of La Paz to avoid being run over by one of the maniac bus drivers and were droppped off in Huatajata, a sleepy little fishing village on the shore of Lago Menor, the south eastern leg of Titicaca. We were hoping to make it to Copacabana, the main stopping off point on Titicaca, 70km away. After about 20km my visions of the gently rolling road were shattered. The next 50km saw us cycling up to 4300m and then being sent back down to 3800m to cross the Tiquina straits on a very rickety raft before going back up again to over 4300m. You cannot imagine how hard it is to cycle uphill against a headwind at over 4000m. It´s hard to breath let alone move your legs. We had to push our bikes in some parts as our legs had turned to lead and refused to pedal. We literally pushed for 100 metres and then stopped wheezing to catch our breath. I was seriously beginning to doubt whether we would make it to Copacabana that night and was less than amused at the thought of camping at over 4000m.
Luckily for us 7km from Copacabana and just as the light was dissapearing we had a long downhill into town, arriving just before sunset, Freezing cold and exhausted but relieved at narrowly escaping a chilly night in the tent we found a cheap hostel and a bowl of steaming quinoa soup. Copacabana is a sweet lakeside town, a bit like the real Copacabana only less bikinis and more Gore-Tex. Tomorrow we head off on a boat to Isla del Sol, the actual birth place of the sun. The island only has 200 inhabitants and there are no roads and no cars so it should be a lovely place to spend a few days exploring the many Inca ruins.
Next stop is Peru, the border is just 10km down the road. It´s our fourth and final country and we´re now something like 600km from Cusco and the finish line ....
First days in Bolivia
After an epic day on the road to La Quiaca we got up early and made our way to the border crossing. Bolivia and Argentina are divided by the ironically named Rio Grande - a feeble dribble of water that really doesn't justify a bridge in order to cross it. In any case it has a bridge and you leave Argentina on one side to arrive in Bolivia once you reach the other side. Who owns the middle bit, nobody knows.
It was market day (as it seems to be every day in Bolivia) and so we were immediately immersed in total chaos. Banana sellers, men with little carts whisking up homemade juice, women selling alapaca socks, hand woven blankets, pan pipes, fake Chelsea shirts, pirate DVDs and other authentic artesanal stuff. All in all it made for quite a contrast with the calm of the Argentinian streets we were used to.
Our first destination after leaving Villazon was Uyuni, home to more markets and artesans and the world´s largest salt flats. Uyuni itself is a fairly unpromising town on the railway line that used to run all the way from the mines of Potosi to Buenos Aires, so we wanted to get out onto the salt flats as soon as possible. For a couple of reasons we decided to leave the bikes in town and hop in a jeep with a guide: firstly our bikes are made of steel and so we´d have to cover them in grease to stop them rusting; secondly we wanted to go and see some of the volcanos and lakes between the salt flats and the Chilean border, which involves crossing some quite inhospitable desert and requires a lot of local knowledge to avoid getting horribly lost (not to mention running out of water because it´s a desert and having to camp in areas where it can get as cold as -65f at night).
On the first day we drove out into the middle of the salt flats and visited an incredible island covered in cactus and outcrops of coral that died 40,000 years ago (when the sea that was once here dried up) and became fossilised. Whichever way we looked we could see nothing but pure white salt, and dark mountains floating like islands in the distance. The Salar de Uyuni is so big (12,500 sq. km) and so featureless (except for the two islands in the middle) that driving across it was a an extreordinary experience. It felt like you could drive for hours and hours and still not make any progress towards your destination.
Still after a lot of driving in a straight line we made it off the salt flats we stopped at another relic from the days when this whole area was under water - La Cueva de Galaxia. Miguel, the man who discovered La Cueva de Galaxia in 2003, showed us around his amazing find. Whilst searching for a Pre-Inca burial ground Miguel and his friend Walter came across the entrance to a big cave that had become blocked with silt. They dug through the silt expecting to find the Pre-Inca mummies they were searching for but instead were greeted by the incredible sight of two chambers full of fossilised sea weed and coral that have formed strange bone-like outcrops and stalactites that look like they belong on another planet. (We´ll put some pictures up soon)
After marvelling at the caves we headed off to find somewhere warm to stay before the sun set and it got too cold. We ended up sleeping in a hotel built entirely out of blocks of salt - salt walls, salt floor, salt tables, salt chairs, salt beds, salt everything (except the windows and the loo). The next day we woke up really early and stood brushing our teeth outside the salt hotel and watching the sun rise over the mountains before driving off towards Oliague, a giant conical volcano that towers over a valley full of strange sandstone shapes. The rocks have been carved by the wind over the centuries into all sorts of unearthly forms, and are host to some really strange looking plants, including giant green lumps of moss about the size of a car and the shape of a brain.
Next our guide drove us on to a sulphurous lake that is home to Flamingos and Storks. On the day we visited there were only two Flamingos at the lake, but they were being very cooperative and standing near the edge so that we could get a good look at them. We slept by Lago Colorado, where there were a few more Flamingos, and on the way there we were lucky enough to see a mountain fox chewing on some bones by the side of the road.
The next morning we got up at 5am and drove all the way up to a geyser field called El Sol de Manana, almost 5,000m up. It was freezing cold and still dark when we reached the geysers, but the sun was about to creep over the horizon so the clouds in the distance were bright red. When we got out of the car for a closer look the red sky and the thick clouds of smoke blowing across us from the geysers created quite a spectacle.
A few hours later we stopped for breakfast by some hot springs. We decided to leap in the hot springs first. There was a howling wind blowing and it was still so cold that we were wearing literally every item of clothing in our possession, and so we had to psyche ourselves up for putting on swimming trunks and jumping into the springs, but once we were in it was like being in a bathtub. We sat there defrosting in the water and basking in the morning sun but eventually had to summon up the courage to get out and get some breakfast. On the short walk from the springs to the comedor our swimming trunks and hair froze solid in the icy wind!
After breakfast and a very, very long drive we eventually made it back to Uyuni and were reunited with our bikes for the trip on to La Paz.
It was market day (as it seems to be every day in Bolivia) and so we were immediately immersed in total chaos. Banana sellers, men with little carts whisking up homemade juice, women selling alapaca socks, hand woven blankets, pan pipes, fake Chelsea shirts, pirate DVDs and other authentic artesanal stuff. All in all it made for quite a contrast with the calm of the Argentinian streets we were used to.
Our first destination after leaving Villazon was Uyuni, home to more markets and artesans and the world´s largest salt flats. Uyuni itself is a fairly unpromising town on the railway line that used to run all the way from the mines of Potosi to Buenos Aires, so we wanted to get out onto the salt flats as soon as possible. For a couple of reasons we decided to leave the bikes in town and hop in a jeep with a guide: firstly our bikes are made of steel and so we´d have to cover them in grease to stop them rusting; secondly we wanted to go and see some of the volcanos and lakes between the salt flats and the Chilean border, which involves crossing some quite inhospitable desert and requires a lot of local knowledge to avoid getting horribly lost (not to mention running out of water because it´s a desert and having to camp in areas where it can get as cold as -65f at night).
On the first day we drove out into the middle of the salt flats and visited an incredible island covered in cactus and outcrops of coral that died 40,000 years ago (when the sea that was once here dried up) and became fossilised. Whichever way we looked we could see nothing but pure white salt, and dark mountains floating like islands in the distance. The Salar de Uyuni is so big (12,500 sq. km) and so featureless (except for the two islands in the middle) that driving across it was a an extreordinary experience. It felt like you could drive for hours and hours and still not make any progress towards your destination.
Still after a lot of driving in a straight line we made it off the salt flats we stopped at another relic from the days when this whole area was under water - La Cueva de Galaxia. Miguel, the man who discovered La Cueva de Galaxia in 2003, showed us around his amazing find. Whilst searching for a Pre-Inca burial ground Miguel and his friend Walter came across the entrance to a big cave that had become blocked with silt. They dug through the silt expecting to find the Pre-Inca mummies they were searching for but instead were greeted by the incredible sight of two chambers full of fossilised sea weed and coral that have formed strange bone-like outcrops and stalactites that look like they belong on another planet. (We´ll put some pictures up soon)
After marvelling at the caves we headed off to find somewhere warm to stay before the sun set and it got too cold. We ended up sleeping in a hotel built entirely out of blocks of salt - salt walls, salt floor, salt tables, salt chairs, salt beds, salt everything (except the windows and the loo). The next day we woke up really early and stood brushing our teeth outside the salt hotel and watching the sun rise over the mountains before driving off towards Oliague, a giant conical volcano that towers over a valley full of strange sandstone shapes. The rocks have been carved by the wind over the centuries into all sorts of unearthly forms, and are host to some really strange looking plants, including giant green lumps of moss about the size of a car and the shape of a brain.
Next our guide drove us on to a sulphurous lake that is home to Flamingos and Storks. On the day we visited there were only two Flamingos at the lake, but they were being very cooperative and standing near the edge so that we could get a good look at them. We slept by Lago Colorado, where there were a few more Flamingos, and on the way there we were lucky enough to see a mountain fox chewing on some bones by the side of the road.
The next morning we got up at 5am and drove all the way up to a geyser field called El Sol de Manana, almost 5,000m up. It was freezing cold and still dark when we reached the geysers, but the sun was about to creep over the horizon so the clouds in the distance were bright red. When we got out of the car for a closer look the red sky and the thick clouds of smoke blowing across us from the geysers created quite a spectacle.
A few hours later we stopped for breakfast by some hot springs. We decided to leap in the hot springs first. There was a howling wind blowing and it was still so cold that we were wearing literally every item of clothing in our possession, and so we had to psyche ourselves up for putting on swimming trunks and jumping into the springs, but once we were in it was like being in a bathtub. We sat there defrosting in the water and basking in the morning sun but eventually had to summon up the courage to get out and get some breakfast. On the short walk from the springs to the comedor our swimming trunks and hair froze solid in the icy wind!
After breakfast and a very, very long drive we eventually made it back to Uyuni and were reunited with our bikes for the trip on to La Paz.
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