New Heights and a New Border Crossing
After the wonderful days in Salta, it was time to get back on the bus. I wasn’t going particularly far, but because the border crossing involved walking, it seemed easiest to split the journey over two days. My destination was Tupiza in Bolivia.
First, there would be a little over seven hours by bus to La Quiaca on the Argentine side. Salta is situated at around 1,150 metres above sea level. Now I was heading up to 3,440 metres. I had been at that altitude earlier in the journey, but only for brief moments. From now on, I would be spending at least the next three weeks somewhere between 3,000 and 4,000 metres.
The daytime bus journey was beautiful. Although we didn’t see much in the way of high mountain scenery, there was no doubt that we were moving into the highlands. The vegetation was low, there were no trees, and the rivers were almost dried up. But the colours were fantastic, in shades of brown, orange and red.
We also stopped at a fairly typical tourist stop, where they sold spices and various souvenirs. There was a large pepper-shaped sculpture, and we could see how they dried peppers in the sun.
La Quiaca
I arrived in La Quiaca late in the afternoon, and by then the temperature had dropped considerably. The sun was still shining, though.
The town was a little difficult to describe. There were very few people out in the streets. It felt rather barren, and the restaurants had very simple interiors. I was feeling a little dizzy and slightly lost, but that would soon pass.
The following morning, it was time to cross another border. The last one for quite some time.
I passed a statue of a mother and child, which seemed rather symbolic of the place I was in. The actual border crossing went smoothly. Stamped out of Argentina, stamped into Bolivia.
Villazón
It may have been because it was evening when I arrived in La Quiaca, but when I entered Villazón in Bolivia, the difference was remarkable. It was full of life, even though it was still early in the morning.
In Bolivia, having cash is important. I would soon be getting on another bus, and the street leading up from the border was lined with money changers.
Although there had been a few people wearing traditional clothing in Argentina, the difference was much more noticeable once I arrived in Bolivia. The women, often referred to as cholitas, wore colourful full skirts and bowler hats.
Now I just had to find a trufi, a shared taxi that would take me to Tupiza. I found one almost immediately after arriving at the bus station. You do get squeezed in a little from time to time in these cars, but that is part of the charm of travelling with the locals.
Tupiza
Tupiza is not a particularly large town, but it has a very distinctive setting, surrounded by colourful mountain ranges. I quickly found my hotel, and I was lucky enough to be allowed to check in immediately, even though it was still quite a while before the official check-in time.
Then it was out to look for a travel company that could offer the best trip to Salar de Uyuni, the great salt flats.
I had been advised to book in Tupiza or Uyuni, with the recommendation that I might find slightly better-quality tours from Tupiza. I cannot really vouch for that claim. But it wasn’t particularly easy to arrive the day before and hope that a tour would leave the following morning.
So, to be able to join a tour the next day, I had to take a very early trufi to Uyuni.
I might have saved myself some trouble by travelling directly to Uyuni. But then I would have missed Tupiza. And to be honest, it was actually a rather pleasant town.
I had a hotel with a swimming pool, although it was a little too cold to use. The park in front of the cathedral was also very pleasant, with large trees providing welcome shade and small statues scattered around.
It was a slightly stumbling start to Bolivia. But that is part of the charm when you haven’t booked everything in advance.
Soon, I would be joining a tour that would turn out to be one of the highlights of the entire seven-week journey.
