Hiking High and Happy

Dad back home to Holland, many kg of souveniers less in my backpack, but more kg of tea-chatting-weight on my body. So it was time to get active and explore some hiking territory.

At night in the truck under the tarp, ontop of many bags with rice, sugar and flour.

With several rites I hitched to Charazani in the Cordillera Apolobamba.

That's where I would be for a week, to hike, meet the people in far away towns, their mines, climb many passes, eat what I could carry and poop in the grass.

First night out, in the town of Curva.

The kids are always so interested about my stuff, they watch closely when I put up the tent, explore the inside and later watch how I cook with my little gas stove.
The few farms you pass along the way have little woman running out of them to try and sell you some of their woven goods. Some made with fineness, other rough and dirty. It's just a little extra, like my family had a little sign with: 'eggs for sale' many years ago.

A 4700m pass with views to Mt Akamani.

Cascada Incacancha. A very nice spot to put the tent, no people, in a warmer valley, no wind, a river to wash and drink and threatning clouds that would not rain.

Walked the wrong path and passed through a very far away town, talking to the old people who only spoke Aymara or Quechua so the kids have to translate. Warmth kept close to the body by many blankets, feet in sandels made from tires (they last years!), hail falling down. Plastic threw everywhere, cooking with cowshit, dogs thinner then possible.

Passing through some mining towns, the guys being from all over Bolivia. Chewing their coca, laughing about my situation. We talked almost an hour, they had a lot of appreciation for my hike alone in a country far away with little things. It's amazing how we look different at life: they having fear for walking alone, me bending deep for their work in dirty, dangerous, unhealthy mines.

The 5100m pass with lots of snow, cold, a very old man who was on his way to ???? being very sick and having lots of pain in his joints, I wished I would have taken my asprins, he was asking for then.

A few cars passed, loaded with people, matresses, blankets, pots, coca, beanies, laughs and tough looking campesinos.

Night in the town of Piedra Grande. The Alpacas and Llamas also went home.

After I had set up my tent along the river, out of the wind in a corral, more then 500 passed by with their owners, looking down with cold in their bones but having the prospect of a warm sopa after cooking it in their mud houses.

The next morning I was watching how this same town got all their herds together, to walk the one or two hours once again to let them graze. The young ones have a little 'skirt' around their waist for the fresh bellycord.

Lucy walked up while I made a photo of her llama ¨They die when you take their photo.¨ she said laughing. We walked together untill Hilo Hilo.

A little break for her to stuff more coca in her cheeks and to nit a little. Her little feet in very feminen, delicate, dirty shoes. It's their tradition.

The hike went on and finished in Pelechuco, a little peublo with lots of fog, flowers, super cute little paths, green vegetable gardens, lots of quenoa trees and a very angelic cementary filled with foxglove flowers.

The bus would leave at two in the morning, so I aksed if I could sleep at the last row of chairs, no problem.

At 2am I did wake up half with all the people entering, but stayed in my sleeping bag. Then the bus made some action, we rolled into movement and all of a sudden there was a super loud crash and things fell on top of me. It turned out that the boys had taken the stones from behind the wheels without the driver being behind the wheel. So we had rolled backwards right into a roof, crashing a pole and the backwindow. I was covered in glass.

Well, we cleaned up the mess, covered the hole with plastic and drove away 40min late.

It's hard to discribe how a bus full of wet wool, chewing coca and little babies in blankets smell. But I may tell you that it's those moments that I fell better then ever, more one with the world, being somewhere with no-one in a place with many. All the same, all tired, squashed, all cold, all wishing for an Api with Buñuelos.

It was a morning that I hope to never forget, Cordillera Apolobamba in the distance, now knowing how you walk her. The sun rising, shadows long, the warmth instand, frost on the ground.

It took me another day to hike back to Charazani via another route, asking all the little woman, kids and their donkeys along the way where to go. They were collecting llama poop to fertilize farmland or cook with. They were collecting it with their hands, into their skirts and into bags. Carried down by donkeys.

The day ended with another two hour hike to some thermal springs. Here, in this lower, warmer canyon are some places where hot water spills out of the side. It caused a massive waterfall and a little pool suitable for soaking down by the river.

No one there, no houses just passerby's. The whole evening I enjoyed my little heaven, soaked, watched the moon and stars, washed my clothes with warm water, made a meal and slept deep.

You can see the tent left below, besides the big rock where my clothes are laying to dry.

Hitching a ride to Apolo. The camion took five hours to cross little towns, sizzling hot and humid the lower we went. Passing many marvelous waterfalls.

In the truck to Charazani I had met the family who lived here, it's very far away, pretty hot and not very interesting in Apolo, but the people are very nice, there is famous Nat. Park Madidi and the drive there is very spectaculair.

All of them where very surprised when I found their store and walked in, never expected me to arrive. I stayed two days to feel the beat, eat, sleep and play sports with them and knit away in the store.

Because of the heat we would get up at 4:30am to play basket, the line for new gas had already started. By the time the truck arrived it was super long and took two hours to dissolve.

On to Sorata, a town pretty famous for hiking. Many hippies from Chili and Argentinia are here too. So far I'm not too fond of them. They are very modern, concearned with appearance (although hippy), groupy and without lots of concearn for the culture of their neighbor-country.

The rain started here and for one month now I have seen wetness almost every day. Sometimes very intense and never ending, sometimes short but present.

I had planned to hike around Nevado Illumani but did not get further then Cocoyo.

Hiking up to some 4800m passes, seeing nothing because of the clouds, getting humid and wet because of the fog and drizzle, starting late, making little progress it did not seem worth it.

So I called it quits, the first time I turned around and didn't finish a hike, ever.

In Cocoyo I sheltered in one of the two stores, was eventually welcomed warm and Ofelia ordered her childeren to fetch a kettle with hot water so I could make tea. I arrived around 10am and would not leave untill noon the next day, lots of playing, watching the rain and knitting. At night there had been a landslide down the road. A few man from town would just walk up and start shoveling, a few more arrived, others left, in one morning it was passable again. Community work.

Cocoyo.

Sonia 12, Guan 9, Valecio 6.

It's proven that the skirts of those woman really hide how thin of fat they are. Ofelia turned out to be 8 months pregnant, you could not see it. She would drive to La Paz this Saturday for the last two weeks of her pregnancy because there were complications. It's a 6 hour journey, dad would come too. Sonia takes care of her two brothers and sister those 15 days, cooking, washing, selling some things in the store and washing thier faces. What did I do when I was 12?

A rest in Sorata and on to the next meeting. I wanted to take a road to Mapiri, down to Guanay, on to Caranavi and back up through the Yungas to La Paz.

In the first part, hitching a ride in a full, cold camioneta, I had Clemens and Laurin, 19 from Germany, hopping in. They were on their way to some ruins I had read about too but dismissed. Only the fact that tomorrow would be market day in another town so there would be transport in the morning up and in the afternoon down (otherwise five hours hiking), made me hop off too.

Life gives you plenty of offers and so it came to be that I spend three days with those smart guys. We spoke most spanish and some english. Played mancala and cards, looked for food in the homes of those friendly people, found the ruins of Iskanwaya (not that impressive) and waited untill we could eat again. Next time it will work guys, it was super tranquile to hang out.

Laurin and Clemens eating some of my brew with anything I could find, including the tube off toothpaste to scoop it out.

We slept in the middle of the ruins.

The next morning I took off on my own, the boys would take a bus to Charazani while I hiked a few hours back to catch transportation on my initial route.

It was a super nice hike and I came across a super mega cool bridge, probably pre-Inca. You can see the Machu Picchu-like mountain with the bridge on the far left.

Many rides in camiones, camionetas, flotas and private cars followed. Some rain along the way, very bad roads for the first part. We had to stop and dig-out the car a few times.

Here my ride is unloading groceries in one of the small pueblos. The transition zone between the alti-plano and the jungle is absolutely spectacular, lots of green hills, one after the other. Many waterfalls, little towns and enough action to keep it interesting.

Digging out the jeep at one of the river crossings that spill over the road.

The town of Santa Rosa with many greens hill following.

Between Mapiri and Guanay you take a boat, that's just easier with all those river crossings in the rainy season. Zipping by green jungle, through pretty wild waves and past many mining operations. One night I slept in a house-in-construction with lots of rain in a forgotten town to finally end up in La Paz, catching a bus straight to Oruro.

Lets go to Carnaval!!!!!!