Arica, Chile to La Paz, Bolivia

Since I couldn´t find a regular bus to the tiny town of Putre, I took a tour from Arica to Lauca national park in Chile. It´s supposed to be one of the most incredible national parks they have, and although it was beautiful and full of four of the five types of Camelidae- alpacas, llamas, vicuñas, and guanacos (no camels) - as well as an incredible variety of birds including flamingoes, I wouldn´t say it was the most incredible park I´ve ever seen. What it WAS was high. We reached 4,500 meters, which is about 13,000 feet, yikes! It was by far the highest I´ve ever been other than in an airplane. I think I was letting it get to me mentally since I had a headache before we even passed 2,000 meters, but I drank lots of water and it was what I like to call a "car tour", i.e. drive, stop and get out for five minutes to take pictures of hieroglyphs or an old church or a scenic vista, get back in the car, drive until the next 5 minute stop, etc. Suffice to say it was not very demanding, physically. Still, at our last and highest stop I was embarrassed how out of breath I became after climbing an indiscernable slope.

The tour stopped in Putre for a late lunch, where they deposited me before heading back to Arica. I was told I´d be able to book another day tour to Reserva las Vicuñas from here, which also has a salt flat and supposedly a ton more flamingoes. Alas, this one-horse town was almost tourist-free and there were no tours leaving the next day. Did I want to pay for a private guide? No I did not. Nor could I, it turned out: I figured I would just head to Bolivia a day early since Putre has nothing to offer, but it was a holiday and the bank in Putre (the only one for about 100 kilometers) would be closed the next day. Bolivia recently started charging U.S. citizens a $135 reciprocity fee, and I did not have that kind of cash on me. I didn´t fancy risking it and getting stuck at the border in the Andes, so I essentially became a prisoner of Putre for a day and a half. I slept about 12 hours that night, partly from exhaustion from the altitude, partly from boredom. There was actually a happening town-wide holiday party, but my head was pounding and I was already in bed by the time I heard the drums and pipes a-playing. I do regret missing out on what was probably a unique cultural experience, but it was freakin´ COLD up there at 3,500 meters and I was already so cozy under my five, count ém five wool blankets.

The next day (yesterday) I went to some fantastic hot springs that were quite relaxing. I exfoliated with this dark red clay/mud and as a result my skin is now super soft. That only killed about 3 hours, though, so after I ate lunch I napped. When I woke up I ate dinner with two other gringos and a Frenchie that were staying at the same hostel, and went back to bed for another 10 hours. This morning when I woke up the bank was blessedly open and I had no problems taking out money. I had bought my bus ticket to La Paz in Arica since the bus doesn´t actually STOP in Putre. I had to get a ride to the freeway and wait... and wait.... and wait for the bus to finally arrive two hours late. Luckily there was a bus shelter and I wasn´t the only one waiting. I chatted up two Mapuche Indians and, when they left, two Spaniards. The bus came and before I knew it we were at the Bolivian border.

Now, I had pipe dreams of using my Chilean ID to avoid the hefty entrance fee, but after hearing how strict they had been with other tourists I had given up hope and was ready with about $75,000 Chilean pesos. I also had my all-important yellow fever vaccine, which turned out to be not so important as I spent a total of 60 seconds at the customs window. I told him I was a Chilean resident with a US passport. Did I have $135 in American dollars? No, I told him I hadn´t been in the states in months but I had Chilean pesos. He pushed my passport back at me, said the equivalent of "I´m going to pretend I didn´t see this" and stamped me into Bolivia as a Chilean. SCORE! Although I am a tiny bit sad about not having a Bolivian stamp in my passport, I´m much more happy to have an extra $135 to spend, which I will dutifully spend in Bolivia.

The bus ride went through a Bolivian national park with some awesome rock formations and canyons that would have reminded me of Utah if I´d ever been, as well as some very random little farms and brick towns that seemed to be either half-completed or half-destroyed, it was hard to tell which. I´m amazed people live in these barren landscapes, but I loved seeing all the camelidaes grazing and being herded by women in colorful skirts and men with wide-brimmed hats. Also, every town, no matter how small, had a dusty soccer field.

The bus being late turned out to be sort of a good thing since we pulled into La Paz as the sun was going down, which turned the whole brick-filled valley a glowing red, as well as the snow-capped volcano behind it. Quite an introduction to the city. My hotel/hostel is sweet, a bit expensive, but in a good location and WARM which is nice. I´m happy to have a full 6 days here as I can already tell I will love this city. Dinner was a bit of a disappointment, I spotted an Indian place and immediately missed the hell out of Taste of India. I should have known better... the rest of the food I´ve tried here has all been great, however, and, not surprisingly, from the street. My travel book told me not to eat street food; was it kidding me?? Street cuisine is quite possibly my favorite aspect of going to a new place, and literally the first thing I did in Bolivia, while still AT the border, was buy baby potatoes and alpaca jerky from an indigineous woman in a bowler hat with a baby on her back. Once here I bought a savory, bready item and then a sweet pastry from two other indigineous women. Sorry, Fodors. My stomach is clearly more adapated than your normal readership´s. (I also brush my teeth with tapwater and order drinks with ice...)

About the altitude... I think I am adjusting pretty well. I´m still tired but that could easily be from traveling and, frankly, sleeping too much. As long as I´m not exerting any effort, I feel fine. Even walking on a flat plane is no problem. The instant I introduce any sort of a hill, however, forget about it. (The Inka Trail will be the death of us, Robyn and Matt, but I´m still really excited!!) They do have a few things to help combat altitude sickness, and so far the best (other than drinking lots of water and taking deep breaths) is mate de coca, which is a completely legal tea made from coca leaves. Randomly, CHEWING the leaves is allegedly illegal, but drinking them is no problem... anyway I´ve been taking good care at altitude, constantly using sunscreen, not drinking anything alcoholic, and getting my fill of mate de coca. Tomorrow I´m going to try to do a good walking tour of part of La Paz, which will be the first real test.

It´s 9;30 pm and clearly time for bed, so that´s more than enough for now, I think. I´ll update again soon, maybe? I never can tell when travelling but I seem to always find my way to the Internet, so keep your eyes peeled. I hope all are well!