Uyuni - Potosi - Sucre - La Paz - Copacabana - Tiwanaku - La Paz
On the eve of the start and after Chile have told you that night on the Salar, I still wanted to share with you my impressions of this all too brief trip that began here in Bolivia a little over 15 days, not far south of the 22nd. My journey ended in Argentine bus terminal in La Quiaca, the largest city in Northern range of this great country. From there, walk down the streets under the midday sun, along the beige facade with a bit dilapidated crumbling plaster in the quiet mid-day. Skip this great place and the wooded hills and the boulevard that reach down even gentle slopes. On the left retaining wall along the railway track on the sidewalk in front of a petrol station and the dusty embankment on which sleep of trucks that will start tomorrow at the Bolivian or storm tracks that sit a few hours before tackling the 2500 km that separate them from Buenos Aires. Down the boulevard this imposing building whose architecture can only be inspired by the school in its frontier period of the 60 South American. The traveler from the south which turns to say goodbye to Argentina can look with satisfaction and even a bit of pride (let's not be too small) this large green sign that says:
Bienvenidos La Quiaca / Ushuaia 5121 km
So begins this long time, the queue moving slowly, fitfully, to receive the output buffer of the Argentine territory with the boundary to show that escapes midday torpor: It'll Come, whistles, horn ...
passport stamped in his pocket, a symmetrical formality any breed after spending this large bridge over a river and it suddenly lean Bolivia! This joyous crowd that fills the streets, bent or disappearing under enormous burdens rolled in these large colored fabrics. The kids wander, street vendors, touts everything and nothing, currency exchange every 100 meters ...
Bolivia is a shock, loud and colorful, with its apex reaches to the bus station. Total chaos, docks invaded by street vendors, ticket sellers for La Paz, Oruro, Tarija, Potosi screaming their destinations, the guys who load luggage on the roof, whole families who arrive with tens of packets ... The journey itself is a whole folklore. These are often small cars ENHANCE, wearing tires 4x4 loaded onto the roof and the interior is pretty rustic. Everything is run by a small team of 2 or 3 types of joyous mood and you change a tire at an impressive speed bus while the passengers impassive benefit to stretch their legs in the middle of nothing. The allusion to a small Formula 1 team coming close when you see the way in which leads are coaches. I sometimes prefer not to know what I know about the basics of driving vehicles of transit!
Much of the country's roads are neither asphalted nor really smooth travel are rather restless and dusty. But a simple glance the window can quickly forget this slight discomfort. The trail turns and returns, then goes down into this magnificent landscape from majestic clumps. Tupiza to Uyuni erosion from rain, wind and rivers has carved out this land real ocher palaces, towers, monuments to the almost incredible size and a perfect verticality seems to be in a perpetual state of ruin, but which impose awe and respect. Passes higher than 4000m reaches with difficulty by a motor breathless, endless descents, beds of rivers, trails perched on a mountainside, infinite loops ... Another pass and we go down, the track is lost for 5 km in the dry river bed of a reach to Atocha, a village on a hillside that has been lost and ridiculous in the midst of such immense. Wonder still between Potosi and Sucre in other of these vast landscapes amid which winds its meandering of a river emaciated by the beginning of the dry season and already floating in the bed too broad and stony.
So begins this long time, the queue moving slowly, fitfully, to receive the output buffer of the Argentine territory with the boundary to show that escapes midday torpor: It'll Come, whistles, horn ...
passport stamped in his pocket, a symmetrical formality any breed after spending this large bridge over a river and it suddenly lean Bolivia! This joyous crowd that fills the streets, bent or disappearing under enormous burdens rolled in these large colored fabrics. The kids wander, street vendors, touts everything and nothing, currency exchange every 100 meters ...
Bolivia is a shock, loud and colorful, with its apex reaches to the bus station. Total chaos, docks invaded by street vendors, ticket sellers for La Paz, Oruro, Tarija, Potosi screaming their destinations, the guys who load luggage on the roof, whole families who arrive with tens of packets ... The journey itself is a whole folklore. These are often small cars ENHANCE, wearing tires 4x4 loaded onto the roof and the interior is pretty rustic. Everything is run by a small team of 2 or 3 types of joyous mood and you change a tire at an impressive speed bus while the passengers impassive benefit to stretch their legs in the middle of nothing. The allusion to a small Formula 1 team coming close when you see the way in which leads are coaches. I sometimes prefer not to know what I know about the basics of driving vehicles of transit!
Much of the country's roads are neither asphalted nor really smooth travel are rather restless and dusty. But a simple glance the window can quickly forget this slight discomfort. The trail turns and returns, then goes down into this magnificent landscape from majestic clumps. Tupiza to Uyuni erosion from rain, wind and rivers has carved out this land real ocher palaces, towers, monuments to the almost incredible size and a perfect verticality seems to be in a perpetual state of ruin, but which impose awe and respect. Passes higher than 4000m reaches with difficulty by a motor breathless, endless descents, beds of rivers, trails perched on a mountainside, infinite loops ... Another pass and we go down, the track is lost for 5 km in the dry river bed of a reach to Atocha, a village on a hillside that has been lost and ridiculous in the midst of such immense. Wonder still between Potosi and Sucre in other of these vast landscapes amid which winds its meandering of a river emaciated by the beginning of the dry season and already floating in the bed too broad and stony. The buses are fully loaded and the starting time often depends on the degree of filling the bus. It is rarely seats, more often people standing in the hallway or like yesterday that little girl in black hair and coppery face who sleeps on the floor in the hallway, his head wedged cons a bag of sugar tucked the little brother in his arms. Clock haggard looks lost when he is down in Oruro in the middle of the night.
Stan and I arrived in La Paz two hours later, at 4.30am after 12 hours because no leg room and with the smell of fish loaded in Oruro. Our attempt to end the night on the benches of the terminal is idle, the cold is intense, we are in a stream of air for 5 hours in the terminal wakes up with a lot of music and the sound of the voice of the eternal rabateurs opera singers: OOOOruro-ruro-ruro-ruro, Ya para Oruuuuro dirty! voice or slender but pushed higher for women: A Sugar sugar sugar Ya dirty!
We then take the air out and enjoy the rising sun lit up the Alto, this top neighborhood, seen from below looks like a clay model, thousands of small houses that rise up against the emélées mountain.
So much to say and I wanted to tell you about the beautiful cities of Potosi and Sucre, their churches, giant palm trees, this colonial architecture, these parks so pleasant, the Bolivian shores of Lake Titicaca, Tonight tent on the Isla del Sol with a sky studded with stars and a crescent moon of incredible finesse, the landscapes of the south. And what of the mysterious ruins Tiwanaku, unique landscapes of the altiplano, congestion of pedestrians on the sidewalks of the bustling cities, the chaos of urban transportation, these cities axphisiées pollution at an altitude already prevents normal breathing, the youth of this country or in the park on Sunday afternoon, there is neither a swing or a slide or a tourniquet that is occupied by crowds of children. So much to say even though this part of the trip seems to be sorely missed approfondisement but I'm afraid that my blog turns into a novel or a little indigestible in a powerful sedative. 
But you'll understand principal, this little hook out program was a treat, the rest would have to tell you the way home. I let Stan here in La Paz after 15 days of very pleasant journey shared. I'm leaving tomorrow for Chile to Putre or I would go hiking a few days in a natural park. Walking and sleeping in the tent began to fail me. Sorry I did not photograph in connection with my paragraphs so it's a bit of bulk!
Photo 1: Sunset on Lake Titicaca
Photo 2: Lunch break driver between Tupiza and Uyuni
Photo 3: The campaign in the south.
Photo 4: Intercity arriving in La Paz
I'll see you in 2 short weeks in Lima, on the eve of finding new travel companions.
the meantime you wear well and enjoy the spring.
Benoit
