A-C-B: Into Bolivia!

We awoke on October 29th and after breakfast took a hired van, not Carlos's car parked in the modest hotel lot, up to the heights and the border station between Chile and Bolivia. The air was cold in the early morning.

The stations for leaving Argentina and entering Chile had been physically one location, one building, staffed by both countries. In the case of Bolivia, we first passed through the Chilean station and then drove about a mile up the road to the Bolivian counterpart.

The inspections on leaving Chile were less intensive than on entering. The Bolivian customs and immigration station was a small building adjacent to a fleet of compact four-wheel drive SUVs delivering tourists exiting Bolivia and preparing to accept clients entering Bolivia. Joan and I were nervous with anticipation, because this would be the test of our Bolivian visas.

Most Europeans can enter Bolivia without a visa, but as the U.S. and Bolivia are not the best of friends at the moment, we were required to obtain a visa ahead of time. Our research showed that there were several Bolivian consulates in the U.S., and where you lived determined which consulate you must apply to. In our case, it was Washington, DC. The on-line application program wasn't always clear, and comparing the instructions from the DC consulate with those from other consulates, they didn't always agree. Joan was forced to create a gmail account to receive the authorization code to fill out an on-line form; I already had an account. We forged ahead, obtaining passport-sized photos, money orders for the application fee, and filling out and printing the on-line forms, including scans of our photos, proof of financial responsibility, and copies of our itinerary. All these materials, plus our US passports, were put in one express envelope with two return express envelopes, and sent to DC.

Ben's passport came back in two weeks, as estimated, with the glossy visa and its stamps and signatures attached. Joan's did not arrive then, or the next day. Shouldn't they have been processed at the same time? There was never an email address for the consulate, so Joan ended up calling them innumerable times. Mostly the phone was not answered. One time her call was answered but the staffer just transferred the call to a prerecorded message we'd already heard more than once. Another time a woman answered the phone and told Joan to call her after a certain hour, and that was the last time her phone was picked up. Joan sent a fax, with no response.

After two more weeks passed we began researching what to do to replace a passport, and how to transfer Joan's Global Entry account to a new passport. Our only consolation was that our next need of the passports was still a few months away.

Finally, Joan sent a letter whose central theme was, in large type, "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, You're my Only Hope," in the red - yellow - green of the Bolivian flag. (Joan is very creative.) Several days later her passport arrived, with visa, six weeks after the applications had been sent. Soon the Bolivian consul phoned from DC to say how much she loved the letter, and would put it on her wall. We were both greatly relieved.

Joan, Carlos, and I entered the door for incoming visitors. Carlos' examination was unremarkable, but an older gentleman effusively greeted Joan and me, and shook our hands. He was greatly pleased to see Americans, who are much more rarely seen here than Europeans, particularly the French. Our passports were stamped, and we exited to meet our Bolivian guide. Carlos was demoted to fellow tourist due to Bolivian regulations.

Our guide was Samuel. He spoke only Spanish, so Carlos translated the important stuff that couldn't be transmitted by hand gestures. Joan and especially I had little Spanish with which to make friendly conservation with Samuel, and we regretted that.

He transferred our duffels to the back of the SUV and we headed off into the high desert, along with many other vehicles involved in this mass custody exchange.

We passed the Green Lagoon, which we would see with better light on our return. The next zone held exposed rock formations.

The colors of the mountains behind us portrayed a tortured history here on the "ring of fire."

Our first stop, almost everybody's first stop,

was at Termas de Polques, an extensive lagoon fed by thermal waters,

We're at 4000 m / 14400 ft.

with the amenity of an artificial pool for bathing.

Joan, Carlos, and I took advantage of the stop for leg stretching and bird spotting.

Driving on, we skirted what Samuel explained was a borax mining area, and then found a "restroom" stop with a view. One keeps an eye out for promising rock formations in the back country.

Wherever water trickles out of the ground in this high, dry country greenery springs up, and wherever greenery survives, llamas will be pastured.

Samuel took us into the small settlement of Mallku Villa Mar,

which appears on Google Maps as Villamar Mallcu. We had some time to walk about as Samuel collected the lunch fixings he'd arranged for, and added gas to the SUV from two blue plastic containers strapped to its roof.

This is the front of the church.

Although soccer/football is the national sport, apparently basketball is also popular. Here's the court next to the school.

Carlos ended up in a conversation with a well-dressed man in a blue suit, a teacher at the school.

At this time of day we were beginning to see dust devils. They would be a common sight for the next two days.

After lunch Samuel drove us to a destination not on the itinerary, a "hidden valley," which became one of Carlos' two favorite spots.

This was our first viewpoint.

A pool attracted many birds, including a juvenile black-crowned night heron.

Zooming in ...

Not far away there was a bare-faced ibis.

Ours was not the only vantage point.

Don't fall!

We clambered down to the valley floor, where I caught this image of Samuel.

The many jumbled and crevice-split boulders piled at the foot of the wall beckoned as secluded pit stops. (Sometimes paid restrooms are available in Bolivia, but are in poor shape.) Unfortunately earlier waves of tourists visiting this "hidden valley" had a created a disgusting mess, including fouled and discarded underwear.

Bolivia is at a critical point regarding tourism; the roads, rest stops, and other facilities must be upgraded or created, otherwise the landscape will be despoiled by the tire ruts and other leavings of the tourist traffic. Then who will come?

Another sighting here was of viscachas, who resemble rabbits but are not actually related. They are considered an example of convergent evolution, the development of similar features in different genetic lineages.

This one was sleepy.

This one was on guard.

With several places yet to visit today, we walked back to the vehicle and headed off for the village of San Cristobal. To be continued!