A depressing village. 07.12.12

Today we arrived in the village of Quillacas, just as a fierce storm blew in. We sought shelter just like every other living thing in the village, and decided to stay the night as it remained highly inclement. A very basic room was found, the weather calmed and before bunkering in I went for a walk.

It depressed me. The village had not changed for many decades, possibly longer, which is neither here nor there; but it was the seeming apathy to the rubbish and general squalor that got to me. The roads remained mud and rock tracks with seemingly no effort made to improve them. In common with the other villages we had been through, they seem to exist on one-room stores in peoples house, run by remarkably elderly people who looked to be nearing a Queens telegram. Maybe even their second.

However, there are two social groups who always seem obviously happy. The Kids and the Dogs. Both are oblivious to what we may term squalor, being full of energy and fun, having a great time playing with their contemporaries and each orher. There are few obvious constraints on either group - and it shows. Perhaps growing up here has some major benfits after all?

 

 

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Bolivian bands. 05.12.12

Bolivian bands are everywhere. And here in Oruro is no exception. There have been at least three band events today alone in the main square. And without wishing to be rude, they all have one thing in common.

They don't quite play in tune.

Now I am not sure if this is by design, or just down to the fact that they are unable. I am happy to settle on the former, as the latter is unthinkable. Or at the least, a little rude. They do turn out well, though.

 

 

 

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El Alto to Oruro. 04.12.12

El Alto is the larger sister to La Paz, where the indigenous peoples reign supreme. It sits above La Paz city, which the inhabitants refer to as 'the hole'. It is not a tourist destination. And that is where we stayed, to our great entertainment, last Saturday night.

Picture 8000 indigenous people crowded on the streets, and two white persons - us. It was a great, totally friendly atmosphere. And Saturday night is wedding night, which is a very noisy and colourful affair, held in the numerous massive halls which look like redundant Bararella movie sets. Whish was matched bysome of the wedding outfits. There were dozens of these first floor halls in our area. And each one has a large, usually traditional, but always very loud, band. It was a bit of a hullabaloo.

It was just good to be away from other tourists....

From there we biked our way along the altiplano along a 50' wide bike path. Actually, they are in the process of putting in a new, wider road all the way to Oruro and as it was not open yet we had our very own, freshly laid bike path. Thank you Bolivia.

 

 

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Showers. 01.12.12

It may come as a surprise that to learn that in Bolivia there is no hot water in homes or hotels - at least not as we know it. Most buildings do not have a hot water system, not in the kitchen or bathroom. Not anywhere.

Typically there will be a shower head as pictured below (which is a tidy example of its type). This magically turns raw electricity and cold water into hot (Or warm) water. Without electrocuting the shower occupant. So far, at least.

Indeed, this method of wiring is typical of all electrical fittings in Bolivia. Sometimes a socket will actually be within the shower cubicle, positioned so as be liberally sprinkled whilst showering. And people warned us about the dangers of being robbed? But of course, you quickly adapt; after all, to have a shower at all is magic in itself.

 

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The Journey: Part Two. 30.11.12

At last we left Lake Titicaca on 30th November on our bikes. The South America part of our journey had begun at last, after a lay off of some weeks.

It felt good. Even when we crossed our first 4000 meter plus pass. Shame it didn't even have a name, but around these parts it is nothing special.

 

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Copacabana. The original one. 28.11.12

Yes, the original Copacabana that gave its name to the Brazilian one is on the shores of Lago Titicata. As we were going to cycle back the same way we caught a bus north to the small lakeside 'resort'. It was good to be out of the city and we enjoyed the peace and quiet - but for me it was slightly underwhelming and not at all what I expected. It was rather like a greek island. We did enjoy the trout, for which the lake is justifiably famous. With a meal of fried trout costing £2 we ate more than our fair share. In fact I may have eaten so much that I may never be able to face trout again....

But to reach the far shore and Copacabana we had to use a vehicle 'ferry'.

The ferries consist of a large wooden platform (Editor; they are more akin to a raft than a barge), powered by a single outboard motor and skilled use of a long wooden pole, they flex alarmingly across their beam in choppy waters. Which we had on the return journey.

But they cope with tour buses so two bicycles were no problem.

"Mind the gaps, Sarah"

 

 

 

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Two things of note ref. La Paz. 26. 11.12

One: The Vehicular Horn.

The fairly constant traffic all uses the horn fairly constantly. However, in India the technique is to hold the fist on the horn as hard and for as long as you can. This is particularly annoying. In La Paz the technique is far more civilised, usually just a quick 'pip' on the horn. This is most used by the legions of taxi and mini-cab drivers to attract your attention and, hopefully, trade. Overall far preferable to the Indian equivalent.

Two: Canines.

There are a reasonable number of dogs in our area, and it is clear that in general they are well cared for and even liked. But the truly interesting thing is that I have yet to see an ugly dog. It is the canine equivalent of going to San Luis Obispo; those of you who have been there will need no further explanation.

To a mutt they are all handsome, well proportioned, healthy, alert, even cute. It is difficult to understand how this can arise in the poorest country on the continent.

 

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