Flights: La Paz to Ljubljana (Nick)

Four flights in a row over 36 hours is enough to test anyone's endurance. So it was with some trepidation that we hauled ourselves out of bed and through a reasonably deserted La Paz before dawn, heading for the airport and thereafter Lima, Bogotá, Frankfurt, and Ljubljana. Two sleepy Avianca flights later (and some stunning views of the Andes and the high headwaters of the Amazon) we found ourselves in Bogota, Colombia, with several hours to kill, and decided to break up the trip by heading in to town rather than hibernating at the airport. One bus ride later and we were in the centre of town, walking up the semi-pedestrian Calle 7, and enjoying the amazing variety of activity: fruit vendors, gypsy musicians, businesspeople, young people, tourists... We got the distinct impression that the people in Bogotá were a bit more cosmopolitan and fashion-conscious (in a modern sense) than those in the other places we had visited, but we also found that at the other end of the spectrum there were more obviously homeless people visible as well. A very interesting place, and worth far more than the hour or two we gave it.

Abandoning the bus, we caught a taxi back to the airport- we had hit rush hour and the bus terminal at Museo Nacional was packed. As we checked back in with Lufthansa, we found we were not seated together, and must have made such sad faces that the ticket agent took pity on us and upgraded us to business class. We were speechless- this was going to be the longest flight of this part of the trip, and we had not been looking forward to it at all. Now we found ourselves in a luxurious lounge, taking showers and filling up on lovely food before the flight, before being ushered to our fully reclining seats at the front of the plane. Was it the bruja's good luck charm? Who can say...

We spent the first part of the flight playing with the multidirectional seat controller, and marvelling over the food, before lying flat and sleeping well for the rest of the flight. When you've done as many long haul (10+ hours) economy class flights as we have, the chance to lie down on an aeroplane feels like the height of luxury.

A layover in Frankfurt (huge airport, a bit bewildering), and we were on our last flight of just over an hour to Ljubljana, Slovenia, with Adria Airways, the Slovenian national airline. We caught the shuttle to town, and met up with one of our hosts, Tanja, and her dog Kai. Tanja showed us to our attic bedroom, and we crashed again.

Salar de Uyuni (Molly)

It's hard to know what to say about our trip to Salar de Uyuni (Uyuni Salt Flats). The majesty of the place rivals anything I've seen in the world, including Angkor Wat and now Macchu Pichu. Photos don't do it justice, as you can't capture the scale or your place in a 360 degree landscape that stretches out to the horizon. Perhaps the best person to capture it was Salvador Dali, who was inspired by the landscape.

After a somewhat turbulent overnight bus ride, which ran over gravel roads the last 4 hours of the trip, we stumbled through the town of Uyuni, which felt straight out of a spaghetti western. I wouldn't have been surprised to see tumbleweeds blowing through the wide, dusty streets. The surrounding land is rich in minerals, and apparently they built the town with wide boulevards in the expectation that it would become a major city, only to see the population shrink when mineral prices went down.

We fell into the offices of Red Planet, eyeing up the other red-eyed travellers to see who might be in our group. On a three day trip in a small 4 wheel drive with no showers, it becomes very important who you're with.

Luckily, we instantly hit it off with our lot: Emmanuel and Matthieu from Mauritius, Julian from England, and our guides, Bismarck and Juan, as well as Ali from Kentucky, who was in another van but who quickly became part of our group. The entire trip was a laugh from day one. We think it was probably the travel charm gifted to us by the woman in La Paz.

Our first day, first stopped by a 'train graveyard', where they let us climb over 100 year old, rusting trains. I was glad of my tetanus shot.

We then went to the eponymous salt flats, to see the process of harvesting, drying, and packaging salt. And to take photos using the ridiculous perspectives you can get on the perfectly flat surface:

We then went to a cactus island in the salt flats. That's right: a cactus island. People live here.

Not enough salt yet? We stayed in a salt hotel that night. Yes, that is literally a hotel made of salt.

Our rowdy group occupied ourselves by playing the card game 'spoons'. For those who don't know it, the game involves lots of fast play, with grabbing of spoons at a key moment. One of the guys in the group, a quiet German, was castigated for not showing enough emotion when taking his spoon, to alert the rest of the players. Thereafter whenever taking a spoon, he would calmly but firmly say "EMOTION."

A number of other bloggers have said the trip would be better named 'a tour of Southwest Bolivia', and I would very much agree. We spent three days on the road, and only the first of those was in the salt flats. The second day we drove up and up, through meadows filled with llamas, tiny stone houses clinging to hills, and pink flamingoes paddling in pink lakes, peaking at 5000 metres. By this point, our group was comfortable enough with each other that we uniformly belted out My Heart Will Go On when it came up on Juan's playlist, with no sense of shame.

By the time the sun was setting, it was biting cold, and it took all our efforts to make it to our last stop: thermal pools. It was worth the stripped-down 100 metre dash.

Pools as seen the next morning. We couldn't see them at night, but they felt heavenly!

The next day, after a few scenic stops, it was a long ride home. After some surprisingly excellent NY style pizza, we said our fond farewells and hopped onto our last overnight bus to La Paz. 

Traveller tips:

Red Planet was an excellent tour company for the salt flats, very worth the money. Our guide, Bismarck, and driver, Juan, were both excellent. It was heaven to be able to visit the hot springs at night, and I think we were the only group who did that. We did the three day tour, which was great - I pitied the people who came just to the salt flats and left without seeing the rest! 

Overnight buses: We took Panasur on the way down and Trans Omar on the way back. We preferred Trans Omar, mainly because it went a slightly more circuitous route which avoided the awful 4 hours of gravel roads near Uyuni. However, I would only recommend them if you get the full bed cama seats. In Trans Omar, be aware the bathroom is pretty basic (no seat) and no food is provided, but there was a thick blanket and nice seats. Wifi existed but didn't really work well on either bus, and in both buses the temperature dropped in the middle of the night but was okay. Panasur had basic food and decent toilets, but the seats didn't go down all the way and weren't as comfortable.

Eating in Uyuni: When we were killing time before the bus in Uyuni, we went to Minuteman Revolutionary Pizza at the Tonito Hotel, which was recommended to us by Red Planet. It was fantastic, and from what we heard, by far the best food in town.

La Paz (Nick)

La Paz is a hive of activity. Set in a deep bowl in the mountains, the central city is surrounded on three sides by steep cliffs,  all of which are covered in houses - so the effect is similar to being in a vast amphitheatre. As many of us remember from either pub quizzes or the Guinness Book of Records, La Paz is the highest altitude capital city in the world, at roughly 3,650 m (11,975 ft) above sea level. However,  much of the city is set above the CBD, meaning that a lot of the actual metro area (including the airport), called, appropriately, El Alto, sits 4000m (13,000ft) up.

And it feels as though the amphitheatre setting concentrates the activity in the middle. The bustle that greeted us when we ventured out from the hotel felt never-ending and all-encompassing. Of course that was partially because we were in the very centre, round the corner from the church of San Francisco on one hand and the Witches' Market on the other. And it was to the famous Witches' Market that we headed, unsure what unusual paraphernalia we'd find.

What we mostly found were dried llama fetuses. Occurring naturally every few pregnancies, aborted fetuses are collected and burned as an offering to the Aymara earth god Pachamama. They looked very disconcerting, but after a while we got as used to them dangling around as it was possible to do so. As well as the dessicated llamas, shops sold everything from sugary offerings to little trinkets and charms, as well as the ubiquitous tourist-focused Andean merchandise.

We spent some time wandering around, enjoying the exotic sights, and picking up some souvenirs. One shop particularly caught our attention, because of the shopkeeper rather than the merchandise. After making a few purchases in pidgin Spanish, we fell into conversation about the meaning of various charms and talismans, and ended up getting on so well that as we finally left she kissed us both fondly, and insisted we take an extra charm, to bring us good luck on our voyage. Read further in the blog to see if that was the case!

After spending a bit more time wandering the streets around Belén and the market, explored the surrounding areas, trying to get money out (our ATM cards had mysteriously stopped working a few days previously- one had been eaten by the machine in Cusco) and exploring the local scene, we collected our bags from the previous night's accommodation and walked the 20 minutes downhill to our next hotel. Today was Molly's birthday, and so we had organised to stay in a lovely old hotel in the Sopocachi neighbourhood. The Hotel El Consulado is a former embassy, and by some amazing stroke of luck (the witch's charm?) we had managed to book the Presidential Suite for less than the cost of a normal motel in NZ.

We took the opportunity to relax for a bit and catch up on some phonecalls, before heading out on the town for Molly's birthday - around the corner, in fact, to an incongruously Austrian restaurant called Vienna, which had been rated very highly on tripadvisor.com. the food was delicious- Austrian with a little Bolivian fusion- and in honour of Molly's birthday the staff brought out a little apple strudel with a candle, singing Happy Birthday as well!

The next day we headed back in to experience the maelstrom of La Paz, firstly by flying over it. A few years ago La Paz built a system of gondolas above the city, connecting the heights of El Alto with the central city, and they provide an incredible bird's eye view of the valley. We took the yellow line from Sopocachi  up to the top, where it was still cold enough for snow to be lying around, and then back down to town, gaping out of the windows at the cityscape and the amazing natural geography.

A quick taxi ride later and we met up with the famous Red Cap Tour - a free walking tour run by locals. It had been very highly rated on tripadvisor.com, and we soon saw why, the guides took us through markets, side streets, and the central city, letting us in on aspects of Aymara culture and Bolivian history- including the (apocryphal?) disturbing tradition of burying a living human sacrifice in the foundation of large buildings (!), and the dynamics of buying your food at the local market- you are supposed to 'adopt' a seller as your de facto aunt, and she will give you freebies ranging from extra goods to life advice.

The tour finished at a local pub, and at that point we made our way back to the hotel, where we spent some time repacking for the next part of the trip: the Uyuni salt flats, where we would be travelling by landrover for 3 days and 2 nights, with only a small bag allowed. The hotel kindly allowed us to keep our big bags there till we got back, so we set off by taxi for the bus station, where after a bit of waiting around we jumped on the overnight bus for the 700km trip to Uyuni.

Traveller's tips

El Consulado was a great hotel - extremely helpful staff, great breakfasts, lovely room. It was actually really nice to stay in Sopocachi rather than near Sagarnaga, as it was slightly outside of the intense bustle but still easy to get around.

Vienna restaurant was excellent and extremely reasonably priced for a nice dinner out! Highly recommended. We had the Lake Titicaca trout, which was excellent, and the spaetzle.

Taxis: we were told to always get your hotel or restaurant to call a cab, or to get ones with telephone numbers and names on the top, and that worked well for us. Always agree on the price upfront, and get another cab if it sounds too much. I don't think a single cab had seatbelts.

Teleferico: This was the best way to get a sense of the city. We did the yellow line, which was a great view and very cheap. The first few lines have just been completed, and they should be adding more in coming years

Red Cap tours were great, highly recommended. Leave a good few hours for this.

Copacabana, Bolivia (Molly)

It doesn't usually snow in Copacabana. However, when travelling I've learned to expect the unexpected.

As Nick wrote, we spent a lovely sunny day in Copacabana, including lounging in a hammock by the waterfront. It began clouding over in the evening, and at dinner I could see just see the occasional glow of faraway lightning over Nick's shoulder, through the open window. I noticed the patter of rain as we were falling asleep. 

The next thing I remember was waking up at about 2am to a sharp crack of lighting. It sounded quite close. Some steady rain ensued, and after a couple of hours of wakeful reading, I went back to bed. 

In the morning, the bedside lights wouldn't turn on, and there was no hot water in the shower. There was still a light rain outside, and as we looked over the houses and the beachfront, the light rain slowly but surely started to fall as snow. It was all the more beautiful for being unanticipated.

It turned out that the power outage wasn't just our room, but all of Copacabana and the surrounding islands. We were due to take a small boat out to Isla del Sol that afternoon, an island with some farming hamlets and basic accommodation. Throughout the morning, the snow thickened and the temperatures dropped. We began to wonder whether two days in an island in the middle of winter with no insulation, no heating and snow would be a good idea. We asked the matron of our hotel in broken Spanish whether she thought it was a good idea. She made a noise, sucking air in through her teeth, which was decipherable in any language.

The day before, we had made friends with the owner of a hotel next door, Cúpula. He kindly said that if it got too cold for us, we were welcome to come to the lounge of their hotel, where there was a roaring fire and hot tea. We decided to take him up on the offer while we mulled over our plans. We met a number of other like minded travellers who had decided to give the island a miss, and the comfort of the lounge and warmth of the tea made up our minds. Off to La Paz we went.

A quick visit to the 15th century Basilica de la Virgen de Candelaria before the bus

We managed to catch an afternoon bus, and as we went over the snow-covered hilltops very close to sheer cliffs, I clutched at Nick's hand more than once. We also had the interesting experience of watching our rickety bus cross a channel on an even more rickety boat:

We made it to the city, and I waited at an Internet cafe while Nick went around the corner to check out a hotel we had read about. After about an hour, when the cafe manager kindly told me they were closing, I was getting a bit worried. It turns out that finding a place was more difficult than expected, and on his return Nick had found the gates to the cafe plaza had shut. Happily reunited, we managed to go to a place recommended by the cafe owner, eat some 10pm ravioli and fall into bed.

Traveller tips: Hotel Utama was great, but if we had to do it over we would stay at Cúpula. Not only was the owner extremely friendly and the hotel lovely and warm; they also had a foundation to help local schools and other community projects. 

Arequipa to Lake Titicaca (Nick)

After an enjoyable couple of days in Arequipa, our next task was to make our way overland to Copacabana, on the Bolivian end of Lake Titicaca (the original Copacabana, after which the famous one is named). Although it was 450km by road, bus schedules meant we did it in two chunks: Arequipa to Puno (also on Titicaca, but at the Peruan end), and then Puno to Copacabana. After booking a bus (4M) through our hostel in Arequipa, we were picked up by a taxi in the morning and driven down the road to the bus stop (all part of the bus service). Somehow we managed to score seats right behind the driver, and so we were able to enjoy a lot of the high alpine scenery we passed through.

The road quickly started going up once we left Arequipa, and kept going for the next few hours. We wound our way through the dusty outskirts of the city, and then up through drier and drier scenery, punctuated by irrigated farmland and with snowcapped mountains looming far away in the distance. After a couple of hours we made our first stop- lunch at an isolated cafe near a village (possibly Pampa de Arrieros) that looked like something out of a Western movie set. After munching down our sandwiches (kindly provided by the bus company) and using the decidedly 3rd world toilets (not quite as much of a shock to the system to Molly as to me- she's spent time in Africa) we jumped back on the bus and continued gently ascending, as I eagerly followed our upwards progress via the occasional road sign. By this time we were over 4000m up and still climbing.

Mountains, desert, vicuñas (related to llamas), and small roadside shrines to crash victims marked our progress for the next few hours. Eventually we got to the point I had been waiting for- Crucero Alto, the highest point on the trip at 4558m. Our altitude pills (diamox) seemed to be doing the trick, and we noticed no ill effects at all. At least that was the case when we were sitting in the bus- when we stopped a couple of times to see flamingos and the beautiful lake Lagunillas it was a different story. Lesson learned: don't leap up and down for photos, or run back to the bus, at 4500m.

Running out of puff

Soon after Lagunillas, and as we began heading downhill again, darkness fell- so we didn't see much else until arriving in the cities of Juliaca and Puno, where the day's journey ended. It was hard to tell, but Puno seems a lot less prettified than the cities we had seen thus far. However, it's probably not a good idea to base one's opinion of a place on journeys to and from the bus station. We settled in to bed at the Las Pinas hostel, comfy enough despite the absence of a heater (it was getting pretty cold by this stage), and crashed.

The next morning we got up early and caught a taxi, booked for us by the very friendly and helpful hotel staff, back to the bus station. We had booked onward tickets around Lake Titicaca to Copacabana through the hotel staff the previous night, but when we arrived there was only one bus getting ready to go, from a different company. We were assured that our ticket was good for that bus, and given we had little other option we loaded our luggage and got on- and indeed it all seemed to be fine!

The trip around Lake Titicaca was quite interesting, hugging the coastline much of the time, and passing through small towns (with multiple hand-painted graffiti signs encouraging us to vote for "Alan"). Titicaca is a large lake, and it took a couple of hours to reach the Bolivian border at Yunguyo. At that point we had to get off the bus (which, slightly disconcertingly, drove across the border and out of sight), and queue up at the Peruvian border control. That took half an hour, after which we had to walk across the 50m of no-man's-land to queue up again at the Bolivian border office. Another half an hour and we were officially in Bolivia, without any money having changed hands, or any vaccinations having been checked (we had been warned to have everything in order as sometimes the guards like to see your vaccination records).

Luckily the bus reappeared, and we climbed back on and headed the last few kilometres to Copacabana. As we entered the town, the bus stopped and we had to pay a "town entry tax" of 2 Bolivianos to a friendly gentleman who came on board. Molly had read that this was a scam, but despite her strongly (but quietly) held objections, we paid up. The bus dropped us at the centre of town, up the hill from the lake front, and we negotiated the steep streets up to our accommodation at the Hotel Utama.

The hotel, on the inside, looked like something out of either retro Vegas or the communist era- a 3-storey, square atrium, with rooms on all sides, and a fountain in the middle on the ground floor. Our room was again comfortable and had a view down to the lake, although, like most hotels we encountered, the "hot" water in the shower was perhaps more accurately described as "tepid".

We spent the afternoon looking around the town, grabbing lunch, and considering options for our trip out to the Isla del Sol the next day. While the night in Puno had been cold, it was still pretty warm in the sun, so we spent some time enjoying the view down on the lakefront. In the evening we walked along the hill from the Utama to the highly recommended Cupola Hotel, only to find it was so highly recommended that the restaurant was completely booked out. The exceedingly friendly and helpful owner directed us down into town, to one of the next best places, La Orilla. A nice dinner later, we puffed our way back up the hill and into bed.

Arequipa's 475th Anniversary (Molly)

We stayed for two amazing days in Arequipa, and the city came to us. 

We arrived early on the first morning, tired after the first of our overnight bus journeys. After dropping our bags at our hostel, we went out to see who served breakfast at 6am. We ended up at one of the patio restaurants overlooking the central square. The food was overpriced for Peru, but when overpriced is $8 NZD / $6 USD for fresh juice, fresh bread, jams, pancakes and coffee, you can't complain too much.

The large white, Spanish colonial buildings which hem in the square are made of local stone, and the grand scale pronounces, 'We are the Conquistadors'. We watched as the city started to wake up. Old men and women came into the park to read the paper. The sun rose behind the basilica, and you could see the two enormous mountains to the north of the city, El Misti and Chachani. South American holiday makers came into the square, and bus touts opened shop. While we were in the middle of winter, as the sun edged onto the patio it forced us back into the shade.

It is worth visiting Arequipa for the Santa Catalina Monastery alone. founded in 1579, it was closed off from the world for almost 400 years, until they opened part of it in the 1970s. it is cool, peaceful and stunningly beautiful. With the bright pastel colours, angled cobblestone streets and courtyards with painted frescos playing with the light, it is also a photographer's dream. 21 nuns still live in a walled off area of the monastery. It seems like a peaceful life.

In the evening we followed our ears to San Francisco square, where a local military band was playing. Two adorable and precocious children, freshly adorned with sashes from a dance competition, got up and performed for the crowd. It was a magical moment we couldn't have planned if we had tried.

When we wandered back through the square to see the buildings lit up at night, we saw people setting up a stage. We asked what was going on, and found out that there would be a parade the next morning for Arequipa's 475th Anniversary. We thought, 'Oh, that might be interesting'. So when we went out the next morning for our coffee, we thought we'd perch on the balcony restaurants again to see what was going on. 

Little did we know, we had gained front row seats for a stunning display of local performances that lasted from 10 until at least 2pm, by which point our eyes were saturated with colourful spinning skirts, military drills, Cowboys on horseback, floats, and even an interesting (though slightly uncomfortable for us) blackface performance, which the locals found hilarious. There was also a man-dressed-as-buxom-woman performance, similar to the fa'afafine tradition in the Pacific. By 11am the terrace was heaving, and while we kept offering to give up our front row seats, the locals surrounding us insisted we stay. They pointed out when their children were coming down as part of a traditional dance, and tried to explain what the various flags meant. I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

Traveller Tips: 

Cruz del Sur met our very high expectations, with large, comfortable seats, decent food, and friendly service. We booked online for the full cama seats which fold down to 180 degrees, though we felt guilty putting them all the way down, as you're practically in the lap of the person behind you. If you book early, reserve ground floor (for the swaying) and front row so no one is leaning into you. 

We found it hard to book online for a bus from Arequipa to Puno, but as other blogs said we had no trouble booking once we were in Arequipa. Most hostels and travel agencies on the street are actually pretty helpful and reputable. We used 4M bus to do this route, which provided an excellent lunch and a few scenic stops along the way. Highly recommended.

Zingaro restaurant was well worth the slightly higher price. We had lomo saltado and alpaca ribs, both of which were divine. The building is a former home of the local priests, so the stonework and frescos are all amazing and original. The service was impeccable. The house wine was... Peruan. I hear they are starting to make better wines. Until they succeed, I suggest sticking to pisco sours.

Crepisimo cafe at the Alliance Française (yes, there is one in Arequipa!) has excellent crepes and wifi, and is a great place to chill for a while. The rooftop also has one of the best views of the city and mountains.