Entering Bolivia

I entered Bolivia through the Argentinian  border. Gettting through immigration wasn’t pleasant. The border was saturated with people. I had to pay the $135 reciprocity fee then was told I needed a photocopy of my passport, so I crossed over the border, got the copy and returned to get my visa. After, I left to the bus terminal to take a bus to my first destination, Uyuni.

The trip took 20 hours. We had to stop twice because the road had been washed out by the rain.

Since entering at the border, I’d started to get a headache, I figured it was just the environment, but it didn’t let up on the bus ride, and I began to feel nauseous.  After arriving at Uyuni, I checked into a hostel and decided to take something for the altitude sickness and take it easy the next day.

That experience had  a powerful and humbling effect on my mediation practice. Its hard to describe all that went on, it was by large intimate, the things that came up. How friendliness was the last thing on my mind, despite having been surrounded by lovely, cheerful fellow travelers.  How trying it was to try to keep a good posture and experience being present without collapsing into the fetal position. It certainly was an experience that pushed me to my borders. Having recovered, I feel a renewed sense of gratitude for no other reason than not being in that state at present.

After recovering, I took a tour to el salar, the salt flat, made some new friends, and took some fun pictures.

On the way to el salar we stopped by a train graveyard and saw a bunch of llamas crossing the street. 

I also got to see the world’s largest salt llama.

That night I took a bus to Potosi. I arrived around midnight, checked into a hostal, and had a beer with some Chileans. The next day I had a look around city and bumped into a group of Germans that I took the tour with in el salar.

Potosi was an important mining town at one point. The city is somewhat chaotic. There is a lot of activity and while there felt partially enebriated, perhaps due to the altitude and the constant inclines.

I decided to head out to Sucre that afternoon.

Sucre was much more peaceful. I checked into a lovely hostel that had a garden full of flowers and the occasional hummingbird. My roommate was this French artist that made handbags, Cecilia. The air was peaceful, cool, and fragrant. The nights spent there, were some of the most restful, peaceful sleeps I can remember.

Celcilia took me to part of the city that overlooks much of the city. I had a look around the plaza. Later that night, we, including our new roommate, Gill from Belgium, had Sangria, and played games. 

The next day, the fun continued. We took the festivities to a nearby park, where there is a mini replica of the Eiffel tower designed by the same artist.