Since my Uyuni tour was a day less than I had planned, I was going to spend two days in Tupiza and maybe even do an overnight horseback riding trip, staying the night in a little town. But there were rumors that there would be another bus strike on Monday and I couldn’t risk that when I needed to be in a town 8 hours away to catch my flight Tuesday morning. I was worried that the bus wouldn’t even run overnight/the strike would start after midnight Sunday night, so I got up early Sunday morning to find out. At the bus terminal, I was assured that there would still be night buses, so booked for an 8pm to Tarija. It was hard to find an open agency to book my horse since it was Sunday, but I eventually found one and scheduled a five hour ride starting at noon. There were not many tourists around and probably due to different skills levels and ride lengths, they booked every ride individually or by groups that came together. So including tip, I paid about 20 USD for a private five hour ride.
I had a few hours until my ride started, so I wandered around the tiny town. It was probably the smallest developed town that I’ve been to that hasn’t been completely tourist based. Got a bit confused navigating the city at times because street signs are almost never posted so I have to go by landmarks that I find in my guidebook – I walk one direction to find out if that is the way I want to go, and if not, it’s only a short distance to go the right way. There wasn’t any sightseeing to do in the town, but I spent time exploring the markets, passing by the same vendors multiple times as I circled around and found my way. Every city has a central market with a bread section, produce, rows of meat, and stalls with cheap meals, though usually meat. There is also usually a black market that has rows of electronics, personal and household supplies, clothing, homemade and fancier shoes, toys, and other random things. The markets in each city or town all have the same items but a different feel. The lowlands, highlands, north and south of the country – each area has a unique style of dress, a different indigenous population, different standards and ways of living. Hard to describe all of this but very interesting to experience as I encounter these markets everywhere I go.
A bit before noon, I collected my things from my hostel and headed over to the tour agency, where I was able to leave all of my belongings for the day. My guide came to pick me up and we walked a couple blocks to catch a micro to where the horses were kept. Luis was eighteen and finishing up high school. When he wasn’t in school, he worked constantly with the horses and hoped to go to the veterinary school in Tupiza to become a horse veterinarian. I really wish I could have talked to him more, but I had no voice at all and my throat hurt quite a bit. Riding probably wasn’t the best thing to do to get better, but I was there and I’d planned to ride here since before I came, so it was going to happen. I talked at times in a whisper, but it’s hard to have a conversation that way, especially when it is windy and you are on a horse. So most of the ride passed without talk, but there was plenty around to hear and see.
When we got to the stable, a few people were finishing nailing shoes onto my horse and wrapping his hocks with a blue bandage material. Apparently he has the tendency to kick rocks at himself as he walks, so they always wrap him before a ride. There were a good number of other horses roaming freely in a large pasture. As I waited, I played with a tiny pup who must have only been a few weeks old, her mother watching closely as I held her and then grooming her intensively once I put her back down. My horse, Terrible, was tall and brown with a blonde mane and was definitely one of the better looking horses that I saw during the day. Luis rode a shorter white horse. I made sure when I signed up for the tour to ask for a fast horse and say that I had riding experience, and although I definitely ended up with a stubborn horse, he was good to ride. As we made our way out of the corral area, Terrible decided that he didn’t want to leave and started running back into the pasture, ignoring my pulls on the reins. Great start! But once we got him out of there and onto the main road, he was mostly cooperative, though had a strong personality. The first part of the ride was directly along the railroad, walking in the middle of the tracks. Terrible knew the route so I didn’t guide him much, but was able to observe my surroundings and take pictures. I got to ride in front and set the pace, Luis following behind me, so there was no horse butt in front of me, just the vast surroundings. After turning off the railroad tracks, we followed a red dirt road up and over the mountains, exposing a gorgeous red countryside with scattered cacti and other greenery. Chirping of the birds, sighing of the horses, the steady clip clop of their walks, and the strong whooshing of the wind surrounded us, but there was no hint of any form of civilization. The horses walked and trotted most of the time, the road very rocky beneath their feet.
Without a voice, I had a hard time imitating the sounds that Luis made to speed up the horses and Terrible didn’t respond well to kicks to his flank, so I had to rely on Luis to tell the horses when to speed up. There were several times when we galloped and cantered through the countryside, barely missing the cacti along the sides of the path, moving against the strong wind and pulling up dust, racing through the gorgeous surroundings. There was no horn on the saddle so it was harder than usual to maintain my balance, but I managed and loved when we sped through the changing landscapes, and Terrible seemed to enjoy the frolics as well. We descended down into an amazing red canyon, flanked by tall walls on all sides, and galloped on through a narrow passageway between rocks as we approached the depths of the canyon . The horses rested as I walked around and snapped pictures, the scenery changing as the clouds raced by and the sun hid and emerged again from behind large rocks as the afternoon made its way into evening. Even with my sunglasses, the views in some directions were only dark silhouettes of towering peaks of the canyon, whereas others were brightly colored with the contrast of red and green, backed by fluffy white clouds and the bright blue sky. I tried to get pictures with Terrible in the forefront, but he was very camera shy and it was hard to get a good shot. During the afternoon, we rode to several canyons, a formation known as the door of the devil, and an area with rocks that looked like figures of men. As the sun began to lower, we rode back along the railroad tracks. At one point, Luis stopped to talk to someone and told me to continue along, but Terrible froze after a little bit, refusing to walk until the other horse caught up. I dismounted a few blocks away from the central area and Luis walked the two horses back to their corral. My bus to Tarija was my second night bus in a row, arriving at my destination again at 4am. It was a comfortable, quiet ride and I actually managed to get a little bit of sleep, though not enough given that I was trying to recover from a lost voice and a sore throat. Tarija was a much bigger city than Tupiza and actually had street signs, which was very exciting. Being near the border, it had a strong Argentine influence in the style of its plaza, churches, and other buildings. Both mornings there, I got breakfast at the Mercado Central. There was a row of women with their stoves, all trying to grab the people walking by to dine at their stall. The traditional fare is api (a delicious, steaming hot spiced purple corn drink) and pasteles (fried dough) either filled with cheese or topped with syrup and powdered sugar. Also got some Argentine pastries from the bakery section of the market, and of course I can never resist the fresh juice section. I wandered a bit around the markets and went to one museum that had some cool fossils of large animals from the region including a giant ground sloth the size of an elephant and a huge armadillo-like creature. All throughout the day, there was some sort of religious celebration based from one of the schools – I constantly heard music and saw people parading around with blue and silver décor. Tarija was another very quiet and laid back town with many modern stores, though it still had a traditional feel to it. Finding food that I could eat was quite difficult because given the proximity to Argentina, meat was a huge thing – finally had to settle on yet another pizza. It was strangely difficult to find an internet café, which are usually on every corner – I finally ran across a street filled with a row of them, all of which were stuffed with teenagers playing computer games or browsing facebook. I didn’t see another tourist during my day there. Tarija is renowned for its nearby wine country and is the base point for trips there, but it’s mostly just a passing through point and not much of a tourist attraction. But it was really nice to be away from the bustle of tourists and just see the town as it was, Argentine flavor throughout.
After a breakfast at the market the next morning, I took a taxi to the airport. I got dropped off outside the airport and paid half as much as I would have had he driven me the extra 100 meters inside the entrance of the tiny place. I got there a little over an hour early and I was the only passenger so far; had to wait another half hour go through security, which took less than a minute and I didn’t have to take off my shoes or jacket or remove my liquids or electronics! It was so much more relaxed than a US airport – no annoying security announcements or massive crowds of hurried people. There was actually wifi there, so easily passed the time before my flight. Just a few minutes after we lifted off, they told us that we could use portable electronic devices; we usually have to wait to 10,000 feet to do this! I took the cheapest Bolivian airline but it was so much nicer than most flights in the US. For an hour flight, they gave us a drink plus a refill as well as a little snack box – a muffin and a meat empanada on my first flight, and a pastry filled with dulce de leche and a cheese empanada on the second. We landed in Cochabamba, took the stairs off the plane and into the airport, and went through security again. It was very different from the place that I had come – there were businesspeople with their briefcases and laptops, fancy purses and sunglasses. The wifi at the airport wasn’t free, and all of the little cafes were much pricier. This airport had four gates rather than two, and had quite impressive architecture inside. After an hour of waiting, we walked back outside and boarded the same plane on which I had arrived. It was a short flight to Santa Cruz and we actually got off the plane through a gate and walked through the airport without going outside. Luckily getting my luggage was no problem. Oh, I don’t remember if I’ve mentioned it, but my zipper on my backpack broke yet again during my Uyuni trip and at this point I won’t be using my backpack too much more, so I’m just going around with safety pins and a buckle and it’s survived so far with that. Outside, I was very surprised by the sticky warm air of Santa Cruz and spent my first day in a long time without a jacket. Taxis from the airport were ridiculously expensive, but there were nice buses that headed towards the center. I got to sit in the front seat and have my big pack next to me, and the driver told me where to get off to walk a few blocks to my hostel. My voice was slowly coming back in croaks, but my ears were a complete mess from the two flights and it was hard to hear for quite a while. By later in the day, though, I could both speak and hear again, very exciting!
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