Why are these internet cafés always staffed by Evanescence fans?

We left the land of paved roads and potable tap water and arrived safely in Bolivia last week. After two weeks in the desert it's nice to be back in the mountains. There is lots to report since the last update, but clearly we spend more time snapping photos than keeping up with our notes. Here's an overview (with many visual aids!)


Breakfast sopaipilla on the way to Bahía Inglesa, Terminal de Buses, La Serena, Chile

After the best Chilean restaurant meal and some Latin American political talk with owners/chefs/cultural informants Pedro and Victoria, we went back to the beach in Bahía Inglesa. The summer season clearly ends abruptly here, and we had a hard time tracking down groceries, much less surf rentals. Asking around at the beach led us to Momo, said to be the second best surfer in Chile. Not sure who tops the list, but we had a good time with him and Jessica, his ripping surfer girlfriend who paddles out at Pleasure Point when she visits her grandparents in California. The waves were decent and we were the only ones out! And with their Billabong sponsorships and convenient bodytypes, Momo and Jess were able to hook us up with some fancy new wetsuits that actually fit. Thanks Tyler, Justin & Catherine, and the McKinnons for your contributions to the surf fund!


A highlight of Chilean gastronomy, Chaski Restaurant, Vicuña, Valle de Elquí


Bahia Inglesa, Chile

This trip is proving to be more about mountains than beaches, so it was nice to change things up a bit and catch a few waves. Or at least paddle for them. With hiking and backpack hauling as our main forms of exercise, paddle strength is not at its peak.


Momo had some pretty sweet surf speak, Chilean Spanish peppered with California slang. A typical soundbite: ¨El surf report dice que va a estar un poco heavy, pero podemos checar al Espot antes de ir a Portofino. Puede estar un poco de crowd, pero no importa si estamos en thepeak of the swell.¨

The desert continued northward to Parque Nacional Pan de Azucar. It was still a stark, dusty brown landscape, but inspiring nontheless. Pristine beaches, comfy camping and one open restaurant--lucky us! Otherwise it would have been hard boiled eggs and peanut butter for dinner.


Pan de Azucar sunset

From the busy coastal town of Chañaral, it was an easy overnight bus ride to San Pedro de Atacama, a quaint desert village-turned adobe gringolandia. Turismo has clearly boomed here, and it is now frequented by seemingly every German that visits Chile.


The wheels on the night bus go round and round, on the way to San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

Arriving in the mañana, we were fooled into staying at an apparently quiet hostal in the centro. Not so. By nightfall the filthy teenage Euro backpackers had all returned from their day trips and the place was louder than the bar next door. We've stayed in some less than idyllic places before, but Hostal Florida might win the prize for worst accommodations. It was bad enough that Oriana woke at dawn to pack and move elsewhere. First time she's been up before 9 without an alarm, possibly ever.


The iglesia is constructed of cacti and adobe, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

As has often been the case, we found comfort at a small, family-run place outside town. We were still stuck in the middle of the desert (enthusiastically claimed to be the driest in the world!), but we had a shady patio all to ourselves to help us rest up and adjust to the 2500m altitude. Much greater heights were to come.


High altitude border crossing. Slightly less formal going from Chile to Bolivia but the visa is way more expensive.

As we booked our 3-day 4x4 tour across the desert to the salt flats of Bolivia, we were sad once again at the idea of leaving Chile. It was such an easy place to settle into, enjoy diverse landscapes, learn fascinating history, chat up friendly locals. We dare say it feels a bit like California, an easy place to feel at home. For a vicarious visit without the long flight, check out Isabel Allende's memoir, My Invented Country. As a Chilean woman and California resident, she describes this captivating country far better than we--from the campesino roots to agricultural riches, the national addiction to dulce de leche, to the roaming communities of curiously friendly stray dogs. We've formulated a theory that dogs reflect the culture of their home country. Chilean dogs had a clean, casual appearance with mixed family heritage, and were always socially outgoing with visitors. Argentine dogs, by contrast, were pure bred, highly groomed, and out to be seen in the city. The dread-mullet, however, seems to be a purely human phenomenon. Can someone please explain why this haircut has gained such popularity on both sides of the cordillera?


Valdivian youth sports the latest in bohemian coiffure, Chile

The journey across the Atacama desert began with a bit of anxiety, as none of the tour agencies have unblemished reports and we had heard horror stories of everything from drunk drivers to broken down vehicles and an accident or two. We crossed our fingers and chose the agency with the shortest rap sheet--mostly complaints about unfriendly drivers, bad music, and inflexible refund policies...which quite possibly says more about the tourists that frequent this well-traveled route than about the driver-guides who work it. The overworked, underpaid Bolivian drivers shuttle gringo tourists across the desert for days at a time, usually spending only one or two nights a week at home with their families. Most of the tourists (Americans included) come from the very nations that have contributed to Bolivia's struggle with poverty and political instability, which might explain a bit of the perceived hostility.


Laguna Blanca, Bolivia

We kept our expectations low and were rewarded with a friendly, knowledgeable guide who kept his Landcruiser in tip top condition and drove safely over the rocky terrain, sand track, and squishy clay salt flats. Only one flat tire! Bravo, Johnny. We lucked out with our travel compañeros as well, two young but mature couples from Switzerland and France who we have continued to travel with in Bolivia, and may see up the road in Peru and Ecuador.


Johnny surveys the view from his trusty steed


Bolivian llamas at Laguna Colorada. Pieces of flair indicate the owner.


Thank you, Loree and David for chipping in for our tour! A definite highlight of the trip. Laguna Colorada, Bolivia


Una pequeña estop, Isla de Pescadores, Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

The Landcruiser dropped us in Uyuni, which doesn't have much to offer besides tourist pizza and a migration office, where we dropped $135 each for shiny visa stickers. As reciprocal visa arrangements become more common (in Argentina, Chile, Brazil, to name a few), it is disappointing--and expensive!--to learn of the horrendous requirements and costs that the US imposes on its foreign visitors.


Land Cruiser, Salar de Uyuni

From Uyuni we jumped our first Bolivian bus Potosí, a 6-hour ride with minimal pavement, a minor snowstorm, and no baño abordo. After four hours we finally stopped for a break--a classic scene as half a busload of gringos, newly arrived from the first class transport of Chile and Argentina, looked around impatiently for a bathroom, then flocked to the field and each found their own bush.


Teatro mirador. No railings. Potosí, Bolivia

Our first night in town, we learned of Bolivian-American math teacher Jaime Escalante's death on primetime news. The clip ran on repeat for the entirety of our enormous dinner, which Devin mistakenly ordered two plates of when he thought he was indicating the numer of people in our party (Dos, ¿verdad? Sí, dos). We were saddened by the news, but glad to be in a place that clearly valued this man as much as Devin does...check out Stand and Deliver for a refresher course on his accomplishments.


From atop the teatro, Potosí, Bolivia

At 4060 m, Potosí took our breath away. A colorful city stunningly set among snow-capped peaks, it was a fabulous first taste of Bolivian culture. The world's highest city, Potosí was built on silver mining during the Spanish conquest, with millions of African and indigenous slaves working and dying in horrifying conditions. The mines are still active as cooperative ventures for mineral extraction, although the government no longer supports the industry--meaning less technology and safety equipment, no electricity or ventilation. Not a single geologist or engineer is employed at the mine; all training is handed down by generations of miners.


Attempting to look prepared, Cerro Rico, Potosí

Visitors can take a tour of the mines, which provides miners with a bit of income aside from the ore they produce, and allows tourists a glimpse into the terrifying Cerro Rico. Scrambling through the dusty, toxic, enclosed tunnels was difficult and sometimes panic-inducing, and we didn't have to push the carro carrying two tons of ore or chip away for hours in precariously reinforced mine shafts. Our visit was eye-opening and emotional, a tiny taste of the harsh reality that thousands of mineros live everyday.


Pushing 2 tons of rock uphill, Cerro Rico

For a more comfortable visit from your living room, rent The Devil's Miner, a beautifully shot, award-winning documentary about the Cerro Rico mines and the young miners who work there. Much of it is shot in the El Rosario mine, which we visited.


Click the image to add the movie to your netflix queue.

We currently reside in Sucre, a picturesque colonial city with a lovely springtime climate--a welcome change after freezing temps in Potosí and the Atacama. We got taken out pretty hard by our first round of food poisoning the other day, which may have been cooked up in our very own kitchen... whoops! Plans for trekking and Spanish classes have been postponed, but our prayers to the Cipro gods (He is risen!) seem to be working. In the meantime, we shall relax and enjoy the fantastic view from our guesthouse. Viviendo la vida buena.


$20 a night rooftop view, Sucre, Bolivia


Check out more photo highlights abajo...


Worst meal in a Chilean restaurant. The menu said hamburgesa and that's exactly what we got, Vicuña, Chile


Caldera Fish Market, Chile


Devin contemplates his future as an REI model, PN Pan de Azucar, Chile


Sexy cacti, Pan de Azucar, Chile


Eco-resort camping, Pan de Azucar


¨Solmaforo¨Peligroso, 2pm in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile


Laguna Blanca, Bolivia


Sol de Mañana geysers, Bolivia. Sulfur fumes and 15,000 ft (4924 m) elevation make breathing a difficult sport


Hoping for stability, Desierto de Piedras, Bolivia


One of many lagunas altiplanicas, Bolivia


Walk the line, Laguna Hedionda, Bolivia


Laguna Hedionda, Bolivia


Horizontal disappearing act, Salar de Uyuni


A tiny full moon rises over the salt flats, Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia


Isla de Pescadores, Salar de Uyuni


Salar de Uyuni


Johnny es el mejor chofer del mundo, we even got lollipops! Devin, Oriana, Cami, Raphael, Johnny, Stefan, Marina enjoy the ride.


Testing the veracity of the salt hotel, San Juan Hotel de Sal


Evening entertainment, ¡Bolivia!


Future table salt, Salar de Uyuni


DandO on the teatro, Potosí, Bolivia


Blending in with the locals, Potosí


Slightly nervous, Cerro Rico


Doing what she does best, Sucre