Bolivia on a Budget full version with Pics

When I went to bed i was shattered and didn't expect to want to ride again today but I slept so well that I was up bright and early, booked an hotel on line, had breakfast and headed North.

The road north of Tilcara becomes a fairly sparse plain and had none of the excitements of yesterday. It was an easy 200 kms drive to La Quinca, the last Argentinian town and the border crossing in to Bolivia.

I was warned to fill up in Argentina as the Bolivians only have low octane fuel (not great for modern engines). yet again there were the usual photographs of the bike!

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The The border crossing is much busier than any other I have crossed. You have La Quinca on one side of the river and Villezon on the Bolivian side with just a bridge to join them. The Two immigration offices and the two Customs office straddle the entrance to the bridge. The place has a real buzz about it with lots of traders and commercial travellers interspersed with the buses and tourists.

The process was reasonably quick and everyone was very helpful, even some truck drivers who helped me through the system.

The Bolivian side is immediately more lively and colourful. The locals are particularly of native Indian extraction. Gone are the European features of Chile & Argentina.The women still wear their traditional clothes - big skirt, colourful blanket, worn as a shawl unless they are carrying a bundle of something in it or children and last, but by no means least - Bowler hats (these are worn like Laurel & Hardy -perched on top of the head by being several sizes too small for them).

I was also advised to get some money at the crossing so i found the bank and was shown to the ATM by a police officer stationed at the bank. I felt pretty sure i wasn't going to get caught this time as he was wielding a 12 gauge pump action shot gun and flack jacket!

The scenery doesn't change much until quite close to my destination. I did notice that they still stack their crops in stooks.

 

Tilcara is a nice small town with adobe buildings. My hotel or to be more accurate, Hostel was easy to find as it is one of the first buildings on the left as you approach town. It wasn't Claridges!

 

After getting changed and having a cold shower (again) I wandered in to town (which is quite a stroll as it is the wrong side of the river) for some dinner and an Internet cafe.

I found an Internet cafe tried to book an hotel (what I thought was not quite so budget) for the next evening & checked emails. I then went to look for some food. The only place open at 5 was a Pizza place. Not in the spirit of my south American travels but needs must.

I ordered the largest they had plus garlic bread and olives. Needless to say it was far more than I could eat. A little earlier two street hawkers had come in to spend the little money they had made on beer. Every time girls came in to the restaurant they would leave their beer and ply their trade - with limited success. 

I finished my beer, asked for the bill and at the same time took over the uneaten half of my pizza to the Hawkers.I don't think they had eaten for days and were very grateful.

One thing led to another and by the time I left the restaurant the table consisted of many bottles of Huari and some red wine, the original French Rasta Hawker and his Colombian Rasta co-worker, another Rasta Frenchman in the same trade, 2 Canadian girls, a Swiss girl and a Swedish girl. I also had 2 friendship bracelets - which is hardly my thing!

I had walked in to town in the daylight but then somehow found my way back to the Hostel on the outskirts of town in the middle of the night, somewhat the worse for wear. Who said Bolivia is dangerous?!

It is amazing the differences amongst us yet we were all linked by the common thread or travelling through South America. A good evening, probably the best since Bariloche..