Backpacking In Bolivia

Volcano Climbing

The final stop, and biggest surprise of the day, was waiting for us on the northern shore of the lake, at the foot of a large volcano. As we drove towards our destination, a small village by the name of Tahua, the sun was setting on our left. The sun god Inti was bringing the day to a close, but not without a spectacular show of colour in the sky, which was reflected on the salt surface enhancing the deity’s performance. The predominant colours were orange and yellow, but there were streaks of pink as well. The atmosphere in the SUV was so charged that we couldn’t fully appreciate the splendour around us. After we left the caves, the driver had taken us to the town of Estancia Aguaquiza to a hotel that was closed. Our young companions were already upset with the cave experience, and when they saw the place he had intended for us to stay, their anger went up a few notches. The sunset was a beautiful treat, but told us that soon it would be dark, and we had to cross the lake to reach the north side. The fact that we were in the middle of nowhere, and didn’t know where we would be staying added to the tension. The driver put the car into high gear and we started saling across the white expanse that would soon become dark.

We reached Tahua in total darkness and we could see no lights on the shore to guide us. Surprise! The entire village was without electricity. Fortunately, our driver new the area well, and after several tries found the entrance to it. The hotel was deserted. There were no other guests, but it was open. As we had arrived late, we had no choice, but to spend the night there. The young family that looked after it said that they would accommodate us the best they could. They could quickly prepare dinner for us from the raw food the travel agency had packed for us in a thermal picnic box, and bring candles to light up the rooms and the eating area.

But our travel companions were not happy, and another argument erupted between them and the driver. “We didn’t pay all that money to spend the night in the dark, and in an isolated area with nobody else here for company,” they argued. They had expected to be staying in a large salt hotel in the middle of the lake with other tourists for some social life. They were university students looking for nightlife, and that night they were stuck with two seniors in a dark hotel, in a dark village. They were fuming!

The driver refused to budge, “I have nowhere else to take you. This is the place the agency booked for you. I don’t have authority to take you anywhere else. You can complain to the agency tomorrow.” When I saw that the argument was getting no where I stepped in to mediate, pointing out that it was already too dark to go anywhere else, even if we would be assured of availability. I pointed out to the driver that a couple bottles of wine might help to calm nerves and restore peace, to which he readily agreed. And before long we were sitting down sipping mediocre Bolivian wine, which after the heated discussion, tasted like the best wine in the world. Everyone relaxed and soon dinner was served. They were still angry, but they swallowed their pride and made the best of a bad situation. We enjoyed a simple candlelight dinner in a salt hotel, not in the middle of the salt flat, as we had expected, but it was a first for all of us.

Our travel companions had every right to be angry. The agency had promised one thing and delivered another. They were all university students on foreign exchange programs in Buenos Ayres, Argentina, and they had booked the tour from there. When they told me the price they had paid, I felt sorry for them. It was many times what we had paid at the agency that same morning. We had the advantage of having shopped around on location and they didn’t. Nevertheless, it was immoral to overcharge people so much. Even the driver agreed with that and felt sorry for them, but he was caught in the middle and there was little he could do. He was following the orders given to him.

We have fallen prey to this type of treatment many times during our travels in South America. It’s very common and not limited to Bolivia. It happens with hotels, restaurants, and especially with tour companies. That’s why we don’t book anything in advance anymore. When travelling in poor countries, it's important to understand that we are perceived as very rich people with money to burn. So, stealing from the rich is fair game. That’s what Robin Hood was all about! Isn’t it? That’s the prevailing mentality. The other aspect is that tourism is not about repeat business. We went to the salt flats, but we will not go back again. The locals know that and that makes their attitude towards us callous. There are many exceptions, of course, and many different degrees of callousness and abuse, but generally, tourists are there to be taken advantage of in any way they can.

The hotel was right on the shore of the lake and the part we stayed in was made of salt. The rooms, bed frames, tables and stools were made of salt blocks. So, for the first time in our life we slept in a salt hotel. The floor of the bedroom was loose salt as was that of the hallway outside the rooms where we had dined the night before. Surprisingly, it wasn’t cold inside, even though there was no heating and the outside temperature was in the low single digits. We weren’t used to living without electricity, but for the locals it was normal to be without it for extended periods of time. The hotel stay wasn’t quite what had been advertised, but it turned out to be a good experience. It made us thankful for all that we have, which we often take for granted.

When we arrived the night before, it was too dark to see the volcano, so, in the morning we basked in its beauty, as it reflected the sun’s rays in splendorous colours. In its ancient past, the volcano had erupted explosively and blew away its southern side, leaving the colourful inner part exposed for all to see for miles. It was an unexpected pleasure when we stepped outside and turned our heads towards it. Another treat was the large number of llamas corralled between the hotel and the salt lake. We were told that in this area each family has about 35 llamas. But the most important agricultural activity was the production of quinoa, and later we got to see the young quinoa plants on our climb up the volcano. Its lower part was used for llama grazing and quinoa farms.

Quinoa has long been an important grain for the highland people of the Andes. The rest of the world has recently discovered its superior nutritional properties, und unsurprisingly demand for it has skyrocketed. There are two benefits of this, we were told. Firstly, it brings an external source of income, which helps to alleviate the extreme poverty that we saw throughout; and secondly, young people that had left the rural communities, for better lives in the bigger towns and cities, are going back to help increase quinoa production. My wife asked about the effects of the higher market prices on the locals because they are now being driven by external demand. She was told that the government introduced price controls for the national market, thus protecting the locals from the high international prices. She was relieved to hear that, fearing that our consumption of quinoa, which we had discovered many years ago, was depriving the locals of their major source of nutrients.

After breakfast we set off to climb the volcano, known as Mount Tunupa. The climb was the type of hike I live for. I felt energetic: my body resonated to the volcano’s energy. Despite the altitude I kept a pretty good pace. The young people that traveled with us started with a fast pace that they couldn’t maintain. They left me behind at first, but I slowly caught up and then passed them. It was an exhilarating feeling: despite the altitude, it felt like a walk in the park. The volcano’s highest point is 5321 m. I climbed up to 4700 m. The view from the ridge was unbelievable. It was a continuum of colours from white to rust red. The minerals in the rocks sparkled under the sun. I stood there soaking in all the beauty around me. Even though my feet were planted firmly on the ground I had a sense of levitating. I felt elated for having made it and for being rewarded with amazing beauty. I was only sorry that I couldn’t have shared it with my wife, who had stayed behind. I had now climbed four volcanoes. Which would be next?