We got up at 6:30, packed and left by 7:00. My feet never did
warm up. The city was already beginning to bustle. I took a photo
of Cerro Rico, the famous tin mine mountain, from the gas station.
We could also see the San Juan de Oro Surface which is well-defined by
an ignimbrite sheet just outside of town.
We drove up and down through the Eastern Cordillera all morning, seeing many good exposures and views. The land is more heavily vegetated than the Eastern Cordillera in Argentina. Just before noon, we arrived back on the Altiplano and drove into Tupiza, Brian’s old stomping ground. We ate lunch on the Central Plaza in a small Plazo Fijo restaurant. It was so-so but beat the hell out of the junk food we had been eating for the past 30 hours. After lunch, we stopped at an Internet café and waited for Pedro to return from welding the muffler. I received a response from Jenny Kafsky regarding my cross-country bicycle trip idea. We drove southward about two hours through beautiful country to Villazon and the Argentine border. Our border crossing was a fiasco. There was no problem on the Bolivian side but on the Argentine side I made the mistake of telling the truth about our visit, figuring our equipment would give us away anyhow. We were told we could not enter without a professional activity visa by the lieutenant in charge. I pointed out to the Lieutenant that if I had lied there would be no problem but because I was honest I couldn't enter the country. In good humor, I offered to change my story and lie to him but he wouldn't hear of it. The surrounding cadre of soldiers was amused by my directness. I asked an onlooking Corporal what he would do in our situation. He told us that there was an Argentine consulate in Villazon. We walked to the office and were waved through Bolivian customs without question. After arguing with the secretary, she let us talk with the jefe who had returned to the office during our discussion. He was a University of Chicago grad and was sympathetic, tired of red tape himself, but still professional. He walked back to the border with us where he spoke privately with the Lieutenant. After 15 minutes or so, we were given 20-day stamps. My companions were introduced to the macho Argentine male. The sun had set by the time we entered La Quiaca. We drove in the dark to Humahuaca where weMay 8, 2007nas Kley at his hotel. I fell asleep as we drove down the Quebrada de Humahuaca, waking at the Yala bridge. We looked for a room in Jujuy but Pedro was up for driving to Salta so we decided to proceed, using Matt's GPS to find our way through the confusing road system. Somehow, we got on the old 1-lane, windy road, which I had never taken before. Its curves were tortuous. Pedro drove like a madman. He was having a blast but was perfectly safe. I enjoyed the ride but I'm not sure those in the back seat did. We got to the Huaico Hotel where we had reservations, thanks to Angel whom I had emailed earlier. It cost $32/person but no one complained. I took a shower at 2:15 and went to bed. I was asleep instantly. |
