Tupiza Passage

Que tipo de trabajo hace?

"Educacion en el campo, acerca de disastres naturales."

Que tipo de disastre?

"Nevada."

Nevada -- that's a word for mountain, right? After all, we'd cycled right alongside the snowy Nevada del Acay back in Argentina.

He made a gesture of a snowslide and said "Nieve".

Oh, I said. "Mi hermano murio en un nevada."

"Si," he said. "Son muy peligroso."

Puzzled, we pushed him a bit. "Pero la gente propio deben saber que hacer sobre el nieve. Tienen mucha experiencia."

"Si, pero ellos cuida primer en las llamas. Tenemos que ensenar les que el hombre es primero, llama es segundo."

Fair enough, but it seemed odd to us. Surely the people can decide for themselves what's best. They're adults.

We bade Nain farewell and stepped into the courtyard to start assembling our stuff. The daily ritual.

The owner of the hospedaje approached us. "You guys are really great," he said in Spanish. We gave him a mystified look. "Que atravesaron en bici."

Yet, it is great. For those fit enough, acclimatised enough, mentally tough enough, and materially prepared, I highly recommend it, and the 'high road' especially. Just incredible scenery. All one needs do is follow our example. In all respects, down to the very specifics: take water in Nacimiento and a ton of water in the 'agua pampa' location three kilometres further from the turnoff for Chilco Vija.

San Pablo is a charming hamlet. The main streets yield views of the mountain Cerro Bonete. According to the proprietor of our hotel, this flat-topped peak is famous for condors and minerals. This is the preferred side for climbing the mountain.

He pointed to Cerro Bonete. "Hay muchos caminos Incas por alla. Muchos."

On July 30, 2001 a terrible snowstorm befell this place. The snow was waist-deep in San Pablo. Many people, llamas and vicunas died.

This being our first settlement since leaving Tupiza, we were due for a call at the local store and hopefully a phone call home. As luck would have it, there was a satellite-connected public phone in the main square. I bought a calling card and placed a message with Merav’s voicemail. I emphasized the enjoyment we’ve had in reaching San Pablo but also the intensity of the voyage: countless mountains; little food and water.

Satellite call Part 1
Satellite call Part 2

In the square we drew attention from all of the village children. This drew the attention of the village priest. He was a 40-something year old man from Germany.

We set off and crossed the 2x4 planks again, reaching the road of the previous evening.

We continued south by south-west on this road. Unclear of which of the various forks to follow, we waited for a cyclist who was coming our way from across the basin. Reaching us, he dismounted and excitedly looked at our maps. He explained that we could take any of these paths across the basin, so long as we proceeded over a certain hilltop.

We thanked him and continued across the basin floor.

Our track eventually climbed out of the basin, up to a small ridge.

Here we saw our first ostriches. They are funny creatures, waddling quickly out of view as you approach. They were grey and nearly blended into the rock around them but for their frantic, awkward waddle.

The road followed a gentle, shallow ravine down to some sand basins that defied cycling.

We stopped for lunch amid a tremendous herd of llamas.

The afternoon ride was tinted in many hues of red, with a gentle, long climb to an ultimate crest overlooking San Antonio de Lipez.

Early evening we were overtaken by several tour jeeps in the final kilometres to Lipez. The tours from Tupiza stop in San Antonio de Lipez rather than San Pablo.

Upon arrival we quickly attracted the 10 or so small children of the village. An older one among them, perhaps 11 years old, asked to ride my bike. Regrettably, I allowed him to do so. He proceeded to ride it directly over a little toddler, laughing at the consequences. One of the children in the crowd emerged to scoop up the screaming toddler.

Impending collision

“He is your brother,” Brice said to the boy holding the toddler, half asking and half asserting. The boy nodded.

We asked the townspeople where we could stay. They directed us to a hospedaje where the jeeps were parked. One of the jeep drivers saw us and said “No cyclists”. We didn’t take him seriously. But we quickly found out that neither of the cooks preparing meals inside would sell us their food. They said the drivers forbade it. The tourists kindly offered us their bread. One of them offered to cook us his provisions of rice and beans.

Concerned with our lack of food, a shop owner offered to sell us a cooked meal from his home. We agreed -- it would be lama stew and rice. He showed us his house and told us to come back in half an hour.

We came back in darkness save for the beam of our flashlights. The inside of the house was dark. The floor was of dirt. The space was occupied by an extended family. The food was being cooked in a pot on the floor. A foot away a small child defecated.

We told the guy that we couldn’t eat there after all, and apologised. We left and bought some tinned fish and crackers. We took these to our room (at an empty hospedaje) and had our dinner of, yet again, sardines and crackers.

Landmark	time*	temp (°C)	odometer (kms)	altitude (m)**
San Pablo de Lipez	12:00 pm	25	0	4250
Cuesta Ostrich	1:56 pm	29	16	4014
Sand Pit	2:30 pm	29	21	3861
Impressionist Climb	4:57 pm	21	31	4077
San Antonio de Lipez	5:30 pm	15	40	4117

Read the next morning's Journal entry.