Christmas was a highlight
The sheer fact that I could be in Bolivia but still around so many people I love was impressive. How a simple idea, floated over 12 months ago, turned into me being around some of my favourite people in the world… I don’t know. People must like me or really like Bolivia.
Anna did actually arrive on Christmas day with loads of Marks and Spencers goodies intact (except for little bit of pesto leakage on her white cardy – who brings a white cardy to Bolivia anyway!). Picking her up from the airport on time was a treat that no one believed possible, as were her Christmas mince pies. And the pot luck feast that awaited us at the hostal was better than anyone could have hoped for. Secret santa delivered a much-needed poncho to Bevan and a scarf and diary to me – both welcome additions to my pack. The day and night went on with the usual Christmas day drinks spread over hours and then ultimately led to a pretty brain-dead Boxing Day. We farewelled the Anaconda for the very last time, bucket and all, but thankfully it was just a ‘see you again soon’ to the Otter who will join us again post carnival.
The little incident
The next move was to Postosi, highest city in the world and at 4,090 m is higher than Mount Cook. For Beavs and I this trip brought about our first taste of a South American scam involving our camera, iPod and some cash but hey, who comes to South America and doesn’t visit a police station at least once. And what a visit it was! ¨You want to report a robbery? Why?¨….hmmm. Surely this was a simple request and just the standard gringo question? There were handmade posters on the walls picturing criminals to look out for. They reminded me of collages we made in highschool detailing the earth’s crust or volcanic rocks. There was one typewriter, one computer and just two men who knew how to use them. But after half a day we walked out triumphant, the stamped and signed police report firmly gripped in hand.
Oruro 2010
Yes we went to Oruro for New Years. Not a normal stop on the gringo trail but a unique and somewhat authentic way to spend New Years. It didn’t really matter where we were, as long as the bar served booze. And it nearly didn’t. So out of fear that we wouldn’t have a drink by midnight we agreed that a bottle of tequila would do, and it did us. 
I think the rest of the bar were maybe just on the lemonades and waters (or perhaps nil by mouth in hope of avoiding the toilets). There was a whole lot of Bolivian style line dancing that resembled my moves from the 1996 Form 2 St Peters Social, interspersed with some of our own superb tequila-induced moves ofcourse. Anna and Gavin were all over the floor/on the floor and we think we were the only ones to actually count down. We rocked it. No regrets Oruro.
La Paz in a fruit bowl
Out of Oruro and into the fruit bowl. No matter how many pictures of La Paz you’ve seen, it still doesn’t prepare you for how cool it really does look. It’s a city in a fruit bowl. Colourful, packed and stunning in its own way. On a clear day the snow-capped mountains surrounding the bowl only add to its beauty and remind you that you really are up in the clouds. The food was good and a welcome change from Oruro’s cuisine. Saying goodbye to the first sister, no so good.
Oruro: Where every girl finds her dream dressIsla Del Sol
From La Paz we went to Lake Titicaca, one of the highest lakes in the world. We walked for four hours from Copacabana to get the boat over to Isla Del Sol, an island in the lake. Sunburnt, tired, hungry and tad a grumpy but once we were on Isla Del Sol there was no complaining. Dinner may have taken two hours but you just can’t complain. The shower was cold but you still just can’t complain. I’ve never been to a resort type of island with views and stunning water and all that so this was a first. A pretty cool first given there aren’t really any resorts on the island, just your normal hostels, at normal Bolivian hostel prices ($NZ 6). I can only hope it stays that way. Such a beautiful place with donkeys as the only form of transport. Tip: honeymooners should go here (KA/Brody?).
Sorata
¨Go to Sorata, for the pancakes and the bat cave.¨ My lingering piece of travel advice to anyone who asks. ¨Stay a while.¨ When you find banana/chocolate pancakes cooked with care and served with good coffee, stay a while and that’s what we did. Sorata is a peaceful little town with plenty of hiking…and a bat cave complete with pedal boat. I thought I was gona hate the cave, freak out and look like a silly girl: dark, wet and bats isn’t really me. But once in there it felt like this was exactly what Rainbows End had modelled the log flume ride on and I couldn’t get enough of it.
Salt flats
I’m still making my mind up about the salt flats. ‘Tours’ and being told to take ‘pictures’ at certain spots just isn’t really my idea of travel. This coupled by the fact that Bevan and I had our first belt of a belly bug, I can now safely say that I completely understand exactly what diarrhea is and what Bevan’s stomach lining looks like. The things you learn.
It was a truly beautiful, unique and changing landscape for the three days we were out there, you don’t get many chances to see such diversity. But the end of the salt flats also meant my last farewell, to Anna. The end of the moving and travelling and the end of being around whanau. Booo.
Buenos Aires is the kind of city I could live in – the kai is good, the folks are friendly and there is so much going on, and, all at a well-considered pace. Of course it is still a big hot smelly city but it has sense of self, without any ego.
The Cheetah
Over the last ten days I’ve slowly transformed into the new travelling me. BA has made this pretty easy given it’s such a nice city and I was hanging out with close friends. I’m glad to have shifted the speed of life, the time of waking each morning, and the language I order food in. I´ve also taken on an ‘animal power’. For me this is the Cheetah and Bevan is the Elephant. We plan to call on our animal powers to help us through our travels.
The first calling on my power was in an 8km ´fun run´ I did last Sunday in Palermo, Buenos Aires. We were lucky to arrive literally two minutes before the gun went off, thanks to a ride with some crazy taxi drivers after the bus system continued to allude me and my amigos. I ran it with Lauren and we crossed the line as the 3rd and 4th chicas home (ladies)! Unfortunately we hadn´t realised this on the day so didn´t hang around for the prizegiving, a trophy would definitely not fit in my pack anyway.
Fernando
While in BA we have attempted to learn a little more Spanish from professor Fernando. It has been very basic but that is totally what we need. My Spanish is still terrible but with time (I mean a year) I’ll get there. As expected, it has been truly humbling experience trying to get around with what little Spanish I have. I can only say that I´m lucky that Argentinians are so forgiving, patient and usually speak a bit of English. Fernando has also been a real treat, he runs the lessons out of a cafe and his overt expressions to signify happy, sad, asian people and animals must make for some interesting comments from other patrons.
Hostel living
I think we got the best of hostel living with our BA stay…bed bugs and all night parties! It almost seems too cliché to be true! But yes, little red spots all over me, I like to think it´s just to go with the Cheetah power. And yes, parties all night and one of those really loud American girls who rant/monologue at anyone or thing about ´finding themselves´in South America after having a ´breakdown´.
Cafe con leche
Mostly I´ve enjoyed settling into the pace of holidaying life in BA where completing more than three tasks in one day seems unnecessary. Coffee and Quilmes are on the menu everyday and BA seems more than happy to host us for plenty of both. I have loved walking the streets, catching the subte, watching tango and listening to street music – all in the sun. You can´t really ask for too much more.
But after ten days, we are all ready to leave. For me I leave with memories of cute cafes, beautiful ladies, late nights out, Quilmes in plastic cups, an exhilarating soccer game that we watched in a mosh pit (La Boca 4 – Gimnasia 0!), the Andy Warhol exhibition at Malba gallery, the Recolleta cemetery, La Bomba de Tiempo drumming group that reminded me of being at WOMAD and sangria with friends.
Next up is the 20 hour bus ride to Iguazu Falls for some urber-tourist action. Bring it on.
Note to Bolivia 
