Potosi- mines

I'm unsure where to begin describing the tour to the mines. To truly understand the impact, I suggest you hire the documentary, The Devil Miners.

In summary.

>it was a real working mine
>there were kids as young as 10 in some mines, though i only met an 18 year old that had worked there for 3 years, his blackened lips smiling at me and his bloodshot eyes looking into mine, made my heart skip a beat.
> they worship the great Tio, Devil of the mine that eats miners
> they chew coca leaves, and sip 95% alcohol
> the dust is thick and all consuming
> the explosions echo through you bones and send shivers down your spine
> the conditions are so terrible, your brain hurts to comprehend them
> Words could not truly describe my emotions. It was a mixture of shock, compassion, relief, helplessness and disbelief. These men work here every day, most of which only get paid if they find quality minerals. Only the men working for the big corporate, like those operating the winches or air compression drills, get a regular wage. The rest have to trust in Tio to provide. They live in hope of finding that big silver vein of salvation. Like a poisonous lottery ticket, their heads in the clouds and their lungs in the mines.

On the upside, its a lovely town, and the miners are proud, dying but proud.

Enjoy the pictures but please spare a thought for the miners...

Salt flats and lagoon

Unyuni Salt Flats

I embarked on the 3 day salt flats tour with excitement. I made my way into the very back of the 4WD and wedged myself between two Russion girls I had not yet met, they didn’t seem overly happy that I was there. A grim expression set of their faces. I smiled and tried to inititate conversation. A few minutes later I gave up, and was forced to endure the harsh russion dialogue in both of my ears until we made our first stop at the ‘Train Cemetery’. The ghostly rusty machines sat patiently under the fierce Bolivian sun, as tourists from all over the world clambored from engine to carriage without too much respect for the rich history embedded within their rusty metal, including the ultimate demise of Butch Casidy.
After the delegated 5 minutes of photo time ( I have a feeling that the ‘guided tour’ travel may not be for me) we were herded back into the 4WD. As I clambored over the seat, that the driver refused to pull all the way down, I caught my thigh on a giant screw, I mouthed a course expletive before taking my seat. Steam was pouring from my ears as I awaited the rest of the cars 8 passangers to climb in.

Even as the bruise developed i knew it would not be the worst of my pain for the trip. As the altitude sickness i was suffering increased. At one stage in the journey we were 5000 meters above sea level.Nothing helped ease the symptoms which are too lengthy and horrible to relay here. Suffice to say, three days in a bumpy (almost broken) 4WD with a half crazy, half asleep driver, launching us into ditches propelling me into the front seat (no seatbelts) was a painful but memorable experience. The scenery was amazing, so i would do it all over again.

The images tell the rest of the story...

Bolivia: Tupiza

I think these images will speak 1000 words. Bolivia is a whole new world, or more like an old world. With stunning landscapes and a large indigenous community it certainly possesses a great deal of character. The little girl in the photo had just finished a large cup of jelly and was reaching up with her money for a second. Rather than assist her, I took her photo. So cute. The children here are so very adorable. With their grubby little faces and chubby cheeks they are so happy to be flung on the backs of their mothers, or so it seems. Every time a woman passes you with a giant load on her back you can never be sure if it’s a child or a package.

From Argentina to Bolivia.

Tilcara is a small North Argentinian town, 3 hrs from the Bolivian border. Nico suggested I spend the night here before heading across the border. When I climed off the bus, it was clear that the wheels on my bag we going to be of no use here. I unzipped the harness and loaded the bag onto my back for the very first time. I stepped off the concrete bus terminal and into the wild wild west, well north in actual fact, but the imagry has still been created. Though unlike the wild west, there were not many stallions with cowboys astride, spitting chewed tobacco into the dusty streets. Instead, there were lama wagons with old men spitting coca leafs from the massive ball in the side of their cheek.
I took to the streets, not sure of where I was headed, I turned off the ‘main’ road and headed up the rocky side street cursing my choice of footware. My thongs were slipping and twisting on every rock, it was time to unpack the hiking shoes if I was to conquer this town without a twisted ankle. I stumbeled into the first hostel I could find and was greeted by the most delightful and bubbly Argentinan woman. She ushered me to my room (little cave) and excitedly told me about the bathrooms in her limited English, I missed most of it though assumed I could find a shower on my own.
Grabing my tacky romance novel, (not the one i am writing:) and after 5 minutes of reading, I commenced my lengthy siesta in the hammock, surrounded by the stunning rocky mountain scape. As the wind picked up, I headed for the warmth of my cave and curled myself up in the sinking mattress. When I emerged, the sun was hanging low in the sky, I wandered down to the market in search for a new bag. Sorry Amber, your bags days were numbered! I ended up buying my first lama shawl. It's cream and soft, though very hairy. It's like i have Alaska climbing all over me everytime i wear it. I think this will become her new rug.

After a quiet night alone in my dark little cave i jumped on a bus to the Bolivian border. It's an interesting, confusing, long and disorganised border crossing. You have to enter the country then line up down the street, in front of the shops in order to 'enter the country'. I then learned that the train to my destination, Uyuni, was full, even though it didnt leave for 6hours. So i bought a ticket to another town where i would spend the night. The border town did not look like a place to stay.

I bravely attempted a burger across the street from the station. Bad idea, it was the worst food i had ever seen. Out the back of the cafe, near the toilets, a small baby craweld around on the ground by herself like a stray dog. Welcome to Bolivia.

Salta- North Argentina

From Cafayate I made my way through the red rocky mountains to Salta.

Having just read in my travel guide that cars in Salta have very little respect for pedestrians, I decided to take extra caution on my first excursion from the, very average, Salta hostel. The night’s sky was sporadically alight with the brewing storm. Thunder rolled across the sky and rain fell in giant droplets landing with a thud of wet footsteps on the eves overhead. My thongs, a poor choice of footwear once again, slipped on the wet path as I negotiated the streets with trepidation. I crossed the one-way street in front of a stationary 4WD, I was almost on the footpath when the driver decided that I was neither visible nor important, and she took off, bumping me and my shopping out of the way. My bottles of beer clanked against her bumper. I squealed and staggered out of the way. I caught a glimpse of the driver, happily chatting to her passenger. Lesson learned, the hard way. Drivers in Salta do not concern themselves with Pedestrians. The next morning, after having arranged my first couch surfing accommodation for that evening, I stepped out to explore the town. Walking through the Park, happily avoiding the crazy cars, and I see a dubious character approaching. When his about 3 meters away from me he thrust his crotch in my direction, his zipper was undone and his disgusting appendage, bulging free. At this moment the crazy cars seemed like a better alternative and I dashed across the 3 lane road without hesitation. Welcome to Salta Jade!!!

After a night with the couch surfer in the tranquility of the Salta hills I embarked on another horse riding adventure. This time it was to be just me and my Spanish speaking guide. Once we were on the grass plains below the mountains, Alberto offered his bag of coca leaves towards me. With my chewed mass tingling the inside of my cheek, Alberto announced, "we cowboys now, vamos (lets go)". I was surprised how much fun it was, chasing the cows around trees, heading them off and rounding them up. One hand on the reins and the other in the air behind me to accompany the whooping sounds we were making. It was truly brilliant, I felt no fear, and as though I was riding better than ever.
Stopping to rest, the horses grazed nearby, the cicadas in the branches overhead were ringing in my ears, almost drowning the peace in a familiar way. Alberta asked if I had a boyfriend? How old was. Did I want to find a boyfriend in South America? No, Why not? This may sound like a simple conversation, but with our limited language skills it was tough. At first I thought these questions were all innocent, Albert was 40 something, missing a couple of teeth, and certainly not a charming distinguished man that I was looking for. It soon became evident that he was fond of me. He expressed how he admired the way I rode with no fear, and loved to be outdoors. We packed our things once more ready to set off towards home, I started to mount my horse, "no no" he said. Then offered me his horse. This was highly unusual, though I was keen to ride his horse as I had been admiring the way it moved all morning. It reminded me of the Spanish dancing horses I had seen as a child. High prancing hooves, head tucked in, proudly and neatly. From the moment we set out I could feel the difference between horses. His horse was an independent horse, not a follower, strong and fast. You had but to lean forward in the saddle for him to set off into a gallop. I instantly loved this horse. I thought the other horse was fast, but when I kicked his side he took off at a speed I had not encountered before. I had to keep pulling him round and doubling back to Albert with a grin so wide planted across my face. Albert kicked his horse into action so has we were both galloping at an incredible rate, with me only slightly in front, when all of a sudden my horse falls into a puddle of mud disguised by the lush green grass. It was as though it was in slow motion, I had enough time to think “ok so I’m going to come off this horse right now, then roll away so as he doesn’t crush me when he falls. And that’s exactly what I did. I hit the mudded earth with a solid thump on my left shoulder; I rolled to the side as the horse fell beside me. We both picked our selves back up aging in the time it took Albert to dismount and race over to us. I took my horses reins and checked to see if he was alright, gently stroking his and cooing softly. Aside from being muddy we were both ok. Albert was frantic. “tambien, tambien tambien. Are you ok are you ok. I’m fine, I insisted, many times over. I mounted my horse once more and we galloped off. I was not going to let a little (or big) fall stand in my way, or spoil my fun. I had a distinct feeling that I may be in pain later, but for now I was ok.Unfortunately, my fall only increased Albert’s fondness for me. He said, “so good, you’re not a princess, but you are beautiful”. And then, much to my horror, he asked me if my breasts were real. Where then hell did that come from? Before then I thought he was a sweet horse men, now he’s just another pervy man.

I declined his offer of a beer and went back to the house to hand wash my muddy clothes. The next morning when I woke, I felt like I had been hit by a truck, it hurt to breath. Two days later and I was back to myself, no prolapsed disc’s, but I might skip the next horse ride just in case.

Cafayate

This place is wonderful. I could sit by the pool eating cheese and drinking wine all day long. They dont export this wine to Aus, but if they did i would buy a case. The Rose is amazing. The process organic and traditional, they even label the bottles by hand. Was meant to go horse ridding today but the plans fell through. No plans are ever really solid here, just maybe if you're lucky things will happen. yesterday we rode bikes to vinyards and goat cheese factory. Amazing! The second leg of the journey, after loads of cheese wine and empanadas (meat and cheese filled pastry) we rode in the heat of the day up a long dirt hill. I had a terrible hangover from the night before and was feeling average. Half way up i thought i might be ill. Then my vision was blurred. I made it to the winery and it was closed. Good times.

Buenos Aires was a lively city, beautiful architecture, markets, river, shops, food.... Another big city.... By chance i met up with an Aussie girl, Kerbie, whom i had met in Melbourne just before she left for her trip. It's a small world.

I have been doing a fair bit of writing, though it's hard in the big cities, too many distractions.

Too my first long bus ride, 18hrs, to Igauzu Falls. The day i did my trip up there it poured all day. I don’t just mean that it rained, but it poured, tropical style. I have never been so wet for so many hours. 7hrs in fact. So now i have wet smelly clothes, bags, purse, DIARY, everything! Though it was worth it. The falls were magical even without the sun and 1000 butterfly’s. All wildlife had gone into hiding, smart creatures.

I did a jungle 4wd trip then a boat ride, the rain was so hard that it felt like stones hitting your face on the boat. The boat also took us into the water fall, the water was a warm relief from the cold rain, and it's not as if i could get any wetter.

I was worried that i might get sick, when i got back to the hostel there was onlyt cold showers, i can't tell you how happy that made me.

I just got off a 22hr bus ride, Sarah you were right, the busses are freezing cold. In Tucaman, but it's another big city, so i am waiting for a 5 hour bus up into wine country of Argintina, Cafayate.

Just love the bus rides, if i eat another ham and cheese white bread roll i may die:) Ham, cheese and sugar is all they seem to eat. Lets count the kilos i have gained week by week!!!! Bring on Bolivia and some exercise.

Since drafting this blog I have arrived in Cafayate. The bus ride was magical, no sarcasm attached. The first 1hr was through a misty green forest, with waterfalls and a magical feel. I took a moment to look down at my camera, and when I looked up again the landscape had completely changed. We were now driving through the arid rocky Andes. Complete with wild donkeys, horses, bored looking lamas and mountain goats that looked like furry boulders wedged into the mountain side. The bus was a local form of transport, we stopped in many small villages, picked up local families, school children and the occasional back packer. The scenery had me awaiting cowboys or Indians to appear on the horizon, bow and arrow or pistol drawn.

The town itself is divine. Quite, and dusty, surround by the Andes. I have a 3 bed room with a lovely Austrian couple, and we have a clear blue pool right outside our door. Tomorrow we rent bikes and tour the vineyards, then the following day we go horse ridding. My legs have only just recovered from the last trail, but I cant resist.

Farewell Chile

Farewell Chile, it has been nothing if not a 'rocking good time'!!!!

Over the past few days I am been at this amazing hostel called Pablo's casa!! Best hostel yet. Fresh OJ every morning, very hospitable owners, pool, live music, pisco sour, comfy bed, great restaurant with muchas eggs on the menu for breakfast and eggplant spaghetti bolognaise for lunch.

They also provided Santiago tours. Live theatre, nightclubs, and a walking tour of the city. English spoken guide included!!!

Thanks so much Pablo, you are welcome to stay with me in Melbourne any time. I will show you where to surf and all the live music venues!!!

La Serena And Pisco Elqui

With the ground still shaking me out of my bed in Santiago, i decided it was time to move on. An American girl, Nicole, and I went to the bus station and jumped on the first one heading North. (South is too earthquake affected).

We arrived in La Serena, a smallish costal town and managed to find the hostel just before it got dark. The next day was very overcast and the town was in work mode as it Monday morning.
By 2pm we were ready to leave this town, which would probably be beautiful in the summer. Then by chance we met up with a local that a fellow aussie travel (Kiri) had met. I stalked him on face book, then he gave me his number. Dont we just love face book. I now have friends with profiles i can not even read!

Pablo was on an evening bus back to Santiago to check his apartment after the quake. We all went for a swim as the late afternoon sun came out and Nicole and I grabbed a bus ticket to Pisco Elqui, as recommended by some Dutch travelers.

After a terrifying bus trip through the mountains, were the bus driver turned all the lights of to turn a corner, we arrived in the one street town at 11pm. The hostel owner, Gabriella, was waiting at the bottom of the street for us. SHe was divine, so was her hostel which was also her home.

The town was a hidden gem, surrounded by the rugged Andes, this lush valley was filled with pisco vineyards, streams and pastures with grazing horses. We hiked a mountain on the second day. The heat was intense and there is barely a rock to shade you.

Most of the time i simply lazed around reading and writing, simply perfect. Yesterday we went horse riding. Pincy, my horse, had a beautiful gate, and we galloped along the dirt tracks at quite a pace. I havn't felt so free and happy for a long time. It felt wonderful to get back on a horse, the first time since I'd hurt my back. In saying that, there was a section of the path, up a ravine, that took trail riding to an extreme level. One slip of a hoof and it would have been all over. I had faith in my fat little white horse!

Took an overnight bus back to Santiago, where the ground is still shaking every so often. My body aches from the climbing, riding and bus trip. Aside from that i am very well. Tonight i will stay with Pablo in his Santiago apartment. Lets hope he can help me improve my Spanish.

Satiago Earthquake Measured 8.8

Just letting you know that I am safe and well. I was lying awake in my bunk in the Santiago hostel at 3:30am, when the earthquake struck. It built in intensity over about 3 minutes. the plaster from the ceiling was crumbling on my head, i jumped down to the floor and onto the poor french girl on the bottom bunk, the lights went out. My heart was beating so fast, we thought the building may collapse. Thankfully they are built sturdy here.

we grabbed our torches and headed downstairs, the air was thick with dust and plaster.
People we everywhere with blankets around their shoulders, a disaster cliché, so i grabbed one too:) Was so shaken i thought i might be ill. we sat on the couch as people ran around us speaking in Spanish. Then a large chunk of the ceiling came crashing to the floor in the next room. We all jumped up and ran outside. Outside was crazy, one man ran down the street screaming "the devil has come to take us". mmmm i was not convinced....

It took us an hour to inch our way backing into the hostel lounge, then another half hour to be brave enough to go back upstairs. I climbed back onto my bunk. It was covered in plaster, I dusted it off and lay down. That’s when the aftershocks began, one large one had me poised ready to jump again. They earth shook for the rest of the night and into the morning that last big rumble was about 11am.

I walked the streets, no traffic lights, no shops open, bricks and glass everywhere. In my part of town all the buildings are still standing. Power resumed at 1:30pm. I was so very worried that you had all heard and would be worried. Though apparently you were unaware. Thank god.

Love you all

Jade

Santiago and Valparasio

Hola, Como estas?

I would like to say that my Spanish is improving...... though i'm not too certain of that. Thus far i have not spent a moment alone, First day with a Swedish girl and the last couple of days with an Aussie. Last night we had dinner with a guy i met on couch surfers, he's a dentist, very funny and quite lovely.

Today we arrived in Valparasio, a small port town about 2hrs from Santiago. Have spent the day wandering the streets and have had many warnings to keep our cameras well hidden though it's hard when the streets are lined with amazing photographic oppertunities.

It's sad to see how many stray dogs there are, hundreds, everywhere. you have to step over them in the street. Naturally I want to feed them and hug them, though I don't, instead i tread over them and keep walking:( poor flea bitten puppies.