Villazon to Uyuni

A kind Bolivian border guard posed for a
photo with us at the border!

We were unsure what to expect from Bolivia, our first 'new' country since we entered Chile across the Straight of Magellan. We had asked around, and heard many differing opinions both on crossing the border as well as about the people of Bolivia, so we just decided to see what we would see - as per usual. The border town of Villazon was bustling with life as we searched around for a hostel. We were able to find one easily, though thankfully it was just for a night, as we had to climb three flights of stairs to our room! Fidgit and I were able to resupply that evening, though it entailed far more stores and markets than resupplying in Argentina.

Fidgit walking and talking with a local

We walked out of Villazon the next morning, leaving behind stray dogs and cat-calling men to walk along an old dirt road into the campo. Along the way, we met an older woman who Fidgit chatted with for a while - she was walking home from getting supplies 'in the city'. She left us at the first small pueblo, and we carried on, crossing multiple dry river beds before calling it a day along a small flowing creek.

Looking for trail

Packing up camp

The next morning, we followed a road that turned into an animal trail up and up to get over a pass. At the pass, our animal path disappeared for a moment, then reemerged on the other side as an obvious old two-track that we followed down past a few abandoned buildings to another tiny village. At this point, we were low on water and trying to make it to the next possible source before our lunch break. We followed another dry river bed to the next small town and found the river was running! Grateful, we stocked up on water and sat in the shade of a nearby tree for our break. Much to our delight, a bus began meandering its way up the riverbed. We watched it trundle past, and decided that must be a faster way to walk as well, since the vehicles are taking it. We followed the crude 'river road' and it led us down along the river bed and through/past the next few towns along the way. This option worked so well for us that we followed it for the next few days, getting water from the towns or the river(when it was running above-ground) As we neared Tupiza, the riverbed left us and we followed another dirt track up and over a pass into Tupiza, of course going through the town dump along the way.

Arriving in Tupiza, we found our way to a hostel to get cleaned up and get some work done. The women at the front were nice and gave us information about the area. We nearly had the hostel to ourselves, and were able to get work and laundry (!) done before leaving town.

Fidgit following old two-track towards town

Leaving Tupiza, we followed the river valley that continued past many small pueblos. Thankfully, Fidgit talked to a few people in the pueblos, and they told us that the river would end a few kilometers before we went over a pass to the next town. Ever grateful for local knowledge, we filled our water up at the spring, and were able to follow the train tracks along the edge of the valley up and up to an elevation of around 4,000 meters (12,000 ft). From there, we crossed and walked down a meandering river valley to the town of Atoche.

Neon along the river

While trying to find a place to stay in Atoche, we discovered there was a regional event going on, so most rooms were booked for the night. We ended up finding a very scuzzy place, sleeping in our sleeping bags atop the covers, and heading out of town the next morning quickly. The trouble with that was Fidgit was not feeling well, and a poor night's sleep mixed with altitude and dehydration was not helping. We did make it to the next town that day, and decided to catch a regional bus into the larger town of Uyuni so Fidgit could get better rest to help her illness.

Fidgit crossing a RR bridge leaving Tupiza

After Fidgit was able to rest in Uyuni for a couple of days, we then came back to the small town we had left off at and made our way to Uyuni on foot. It was interesting coming into a town we already knew, but also nice to have a place already booked for the night and not worry about where to find food and other goods. Also, Uyuni and the altiplano that we've been walking across have gotten VERY cold at night, so we have been trying to stay indoors more often as we are walking through winter in such a harsh environment. We would hate to have an unsuspecting herdsman/woman find us frozen in our tent some morning. It wouldn't be conducive to our goal either, haha.

Some of the view across the riverbed

Neon along the RR going up towards another pass

A Fidgit selfie while not feeling well

The graveyard outside of Atoche

Railway walking along the Pampa

Every small town has a railway sign,
this was nearing Uyuni

Some umbrella fun on the Salar de Uyuni!

Border Crossing: La Quiaca, Argentina into Villazon, Bolivia

Argentine side of the Border

I had not gone through the trouble of getting a Bolivian Visa like my hiking partner had while in the United States, so I had to get one at the border. I read many diffferent blogs about crossing the border, and each one said something different. Even the Bolivian Consulate website said something different, so I am going to assume that each border crossing is its own special snowflake, and just give you the rundown of my personal experience.

Since Mendoza, I had been reading up on what I needed at the Bolivian border, and was able to put most of it together in Salta.

What I handed over:
- 2 copies of my bank statement
- 2 passport-sized photos
- 1 copy of my passport
- 1 copy of proof of yellow fever shot
- $160 in USD (actually had $200 and the border officer gave me change in Bolivianos)
- Passport (original, expires in 2024, they request it be valid for at least 5 years and have at one full page free for visa and entry stamp)
- A general understanding of the Spanish language

Items I didn't have, and the border control officer supplied:
- Visa Application

Items I had and the border control officer didn't ask for:
- Proof of yellow fever shot (original)
- Itinerary while in Bolivia (on my phone)
- Proof of onward movement (plane ticket purchase confirmation on my phone)
- Proof of place to stay (hostel confirmation on my phone)

Items for border crossing

Fidgit already had her Bolivian Visa, but had overstayed her 90 days in Argentina, so we decided to cross seperately. The border control officers immediately knew we were together, but didn't seem to care. Because I got stamped out of Argentina so quickly, I walked into Bolivia - right past the window that I needed to stop at. Thankfully, there were some helpful people nearby I could ask for directions, and I returned to the window sheepishly. I was the only one there that Sunday morning, and I imagine that may not always be the case, especially if you arrive by bus. The original officer I talked to called over the other one, and they joked with me about it being such a cold morning. I then handed over my passport and the papers I had, and they gave me the visa application to fill out. One of the border officers came out to warm up in the sun, and we chatted while the other one processed my 'request' and handed back my passport, now with a Bolivian Visa and 90-day stamp in it.

This was way easier and less hassle than I imagined it to be, though at one point he did ask if I had another $100 bill (mine had gotten a bit worn from being in my backpack for 7 months). I didn't, and he seemed to be alright with that. I was glad to have everything I may have needed, even if they didn't ask for everything, and I believe greeting them with a smile helped as well.

We made it! The bridge between
countries

Getting Gear in South America

Notice holes in nearly everything,
except my peanut butter jar.

If you ask anyone who lives in and/or has traveled to South America, you will likely hear similar tidbits of advice from them: "Make sure you have US cash; the mail system in most countries is terrible/non-existent; be sure to bring enough gear, because gear is expensive and/or non-existent."

If you ask us at this point in our trip, we would likely say the same as those who came before us. As a person who had never been south of the United States border with Mexico before November 2015, this trip has been eye-opening in more ways than I'll ever be able to explain. This blog is going to focus on my (and our) experience getting new gear in and to South America.

Gear falls apart

Fidgit and I were able to purchase in the US and bring down much of what we needed our first season (November '15 - April '16). The only issue we had was with socks and shoes - we went through multiple pairs each. Thankfully we were in Chile most of our first season, and were able to find and purchase overpriced-but-will-do-the-job-this-time shoes. We were also able to send ourselves gear via the Chilean bus system - which is oddly reliable. Okay, not so odd once you understand that many people don't own cars down here.

Winter is coming

On my way to get the gear, looking out the bus window

Where we ran into trouble with getting gear was near the middle of our second season (season two spans November '16 - November '17). As we neared northern Argentina in April, we were attempting to find someone who was willing to bring down some US gear for us, as we had once again purchased not great shoes and socks in Santiago to tide us over while we figured out what our options were. We decided to reach out to see if sending it to ourselves or finding someone to bring it was preferable - all our resources leaned towards finding someone to bring it down, because the tariffs we would have to pay in Argentina would be exorbitant, and that's IF the gear made it through customs. So we reached out to people we know who travel to and from the US with some regularity, and found a willing friend.

Hello again, Pacific Ocean

Unfortunately, after we had begun ordering and mailing new gear to an address in the states, unforeseen circumstances forced our friend to cancel his trip. Thankfully, we were at a spot where we had regular and useful wifi (not the norm in most countries down here, though it is improving), so we began a new search for someone willing to bring our stuff down. Fortunately, we've met many people, and our old gear mule was quickly replaced by our new one, Dan. He was heading back to my home state, and we immediately began re-routing items to my sister's house in Pennsylvania to be picked up and hauled down to Peru by Dan. Why would we ask a person who's technically three countries away to bring us our gear, you ask? DESPERATION. The nights were getting colder, my sleeping bag was wearing out, as were my shoes, socks, pants, shirts, you name it. Also, three countries away is much closer than multiple continents away. So Dan gathered the gear from my sister and brought it down to Peru, where I met him to catch up and retrieve it after approximately two days on buses and two border crossings. We met in Tacna, Peru - a border town with cheap, tax-free goods. Dan and I met up with his travel partner Justin, and we got a hostel room, as we would be there a couple days - I hadn't seen these guys since Santiago and wanted to catch up.

Dan, me, Justin.
The lovely lads who helped us out! (and me)

Dan, Justin and I were able to spend a couple days together before they continued northward, and I made my way back towards Argentina with new gear for Fidgit and me. This is where most of my trouble began, and I'll put these hurdles in list form, as there were many.

New Gear! 

-At the Peru/Chile border, the Chilean border patrol was staging a 'slow down.' Since they can't close the border, the were only allowing so many people through per hour. I waited for five hours in a line in the sun to get through, feeling bad for the people who arrived after me.

-Arriving to the bus station in Arica, I find the pass I need to cross to get back into Argentina is closed due to snow and high winds. Thankful I had made it across mere days before a blowing snowstorm, I was now fretting as to when I would make it back across into Argentina.

New bag for winter!

-Impatiently waiting out a far-away snow storm at a 4,000+ meter pass wears on me, so I spend only two days in Arica before deciding to bus up to San Pedro de Atacama - closer to the pass. Bus goes through Catamarca and I am warned of theives so I keep a close, but tired eye on my belongings after a night bus through a 4 am checkpoint from Arica to Catamarca. Make the bus to San Pedro and am told the pass will reopen Wednesday (it was Sunday).

-Buy bus ticket Tuesday for Wednesday morning, and the moment of truth arrives - I get on the bus and we go to the edge of town and sit for two hours to see if the pass is open. It's not, and I dejectedly return to my hostel. The bus driver says we will try again in the morning.

Stuck in line at the Peru/Chile Border

-Thursday morning, 8 am. I arrive at the bus station, get on the bus, and we once again drive to the edge of town and sit, waiting until 11 am. I see two garbage trucks, one dump truck and one bulldozer pass. I believe they are going to help clear the snow across the road, and concern enters my brain. 11 am rolls around and . . . the pass is open! We trundle up and up into the snow, then down to the Argentina/Chile border. The Chilean border guards seem to not be as slow at this border, and I am grateful our bus makes it through.

The cabbie in Chile- they love
The Simpsons down here.

-We careen down the other side of the pass into Argentina, with a steep series of S-curves along the way, carefully executed by the driver of the double-decker bus, and I am finally able to contact Fidgit at the Jujuy bus station to let her know I'll be in Salta around 11 pm. Taxi to where Fidgit is staying with no fewer than three stops by the cab driver to make sure the address I've given him is really there.

Gear retrieval success!!

So tired on the bus to San Pedro de Atacama

Another bus window view

Passing the time in San Pedro, waiting for the pass to reopen

Made it back to the Chile/Argentina Border!

Reunited, and with new gear!

Salta to La Quiaca

Fede, me, Fidgit, Isabel and Antonio in Salta

'bridge'

Arriving back in Salta after a longer-than-planned hiatus from Fidgit and our trek, I was immediately welcomed into the home of Isabel and Antonio, family of friends from Bariloche. Fidgit and I (and all the gear I hauled from Peru, which friends and family had collected and hauled from the US) reunited and shared stories about our time apart. As we caught up, we also planned for our route up to higher elevation and into Bolivia. It was tough to imagine higher and drier weather because it was overcast and damp nearly every day in Salta. We ran errands, hung out with the family, and planned for a couple of days. Thankful for the generosity and kindness of the near-strangers we were staying with, we stayed longer than planned before moving along down the trail. The trail was actually a lesser-used road, and I lost both track of time and my new rain jacket along it. The rainy weather cleared up as we walked along. The road led to a dirt path that led down a wash and around a lake, which then led to the city of Jujuy. I promptly (and disappointed-ly) bought another new rain jacket .

A lovely morning along the quebrada

Jujuy was where we would begin our ascent up to the pampas. We debated on how to do this, and decided to day-hike up to another town where we then returned via bus to our hostel. This was my first time 'slack-packing' since the PCT in 2010, so I was interested to see how I would feel about it. After 40 kilometers uphill, I decided I was a fan of slack-packing again. We stayed another night indoors and then returned to the town of Volcan and continued north where we had left off. As we moved further up the 'Quebrada de Humahuaca', we would pass a small town or two every day. The elevation change became noticeable, but not troublesome, as we were moving slowly enough to adapt.

Using old railroads kept us off roads

Near the town of Humahuaca, however, Fidgit was not feeling well. She was congested and struggling with a full-body tiredness. We had hoped to walk to Humahuaca that day, but it wasn't in our best interest, so we again bused, and then came back down the next day to slack-pack into Humahuaca. Fidgit was still ailing, so we took some time to make sure she was recovered before pushing on to Abra Pampa. As we were both feeling antsy to cover ground, we were able to walk each day, then bus back to Humahuaca. After a couple of days, Fidgit was feeling well enough to hike on with our full packs. We once again headed out of town, but not before seeing in person the only point of interested listed on Humahuaca's wiki page - a wooden priest coming out of the small door of a church above a crowd at noon to raise his hand and lower his wooden head.

An Inca ruins site along the Quebrada de Humahuaca

We made our way out of Humahuaca and toward the small town of Azul Pampa, had some lunch, and moved on toward Abra Pampa, able to follow roadside abandoned railroad tracks nearly the entire way. As we got higher in elevation, we noticed the vegetation changing - first the tall cactus disappeared, then the flowers and pointy shrubs left, then we got to a point where the only trees we were seeing were planted around buildings (presumably for wind protection). The sun was strong during the day, and the temperature plummeted at night, freezing our water.

Wandering along

One particular morning right before Abra Pampa at an elevation of 3,700 meters, we awoke after a fitful sleep to find most of our water frozen solid, my feet nearly frozen (I have horrible circulation). Deciding it wasn't worth it to spend more nights than necessary outside this winter, we made our way to Abra Pampa and set up for the night in a local hostel. Thankfully, lodging and food in town are already getting cheaper as we near the Bolivian border, or this would not have been an option. Looking at the weather ahead, we decided to slack-pack once again, taking three days to walk to the border town of La Quiaca. And there we were, after a year of walking, about to walk into a country other than Chile or Argentina.

We made it to the Tropic of Capricorn!

The colors in these mountains are amazing!

Fidgit and another roadside attraction

One of the small villages along the way

Old railroads are best when the bridges
are still intact

Anxiously awaiting the clock to strike noon in Humahuaca

Fidgit crossing a sketchier railroad bridge

Flamingoes! Along the pampas near Abra Pampa

When walking along at 3,000 meters in elevation,
umbrellas against the sun are helpful

Chile Cito to Hualfin

Unofficial Aide Station near Chilecito

Quattris were also in the race

As we wandered out of Chile Cito, Fidgit and I decided to take a dirt road route that would take us more directly toward our next destination and that wouldn't be on the side of a highway - yay! As we walked along what we thought would be an abandoned dirt track weaving in and out of a wash, we began to notice pieces of plastic/markers hanging in shrubs along the way. As the morning grew warmer, a couple of people on dirt bikes passed by. We walked on and came upon a family gathered around a fire alongside the road. Fidgit asked them about the trail, and we were told there would be a moto race coming through in the very near future. At this point, we were invited over to the fire to have a hot beverage and some homemade pizza. We decided to stay, hang out with the family, and enjoy being spectators along the race course. This would also allow the dirt bikes to pass without us being in their way / them being in our way. As the motos zoomed by, we got to cheer and enjoy some asado that the patriarchs cooked up for lunch.

The unofficial Aide Station crew and
an injured rider

We left the family in the late afternoon, walking our way along a dusty path, though it was no longer choked with motos. We reached the other end of the dirt track and got on the pavement as the sun was going down. Asking a woman in her front yard for some water, we were able to walk into the evening before setting up camp for the night.

We arose the next morning, and walked into the town of Famatina to find some internet, as we had forgotten to do some work items. I ended up having another bout of intestinal distress so we stayed longer than planned. I began on a round of Flagyl in hopes of ridding myself of whatever it is that persisted in tearing apart my intestines. Three pills a day for seven days was looking better than surprise intestinal cramping and diarrhea.

Continuing our walk through the desert

There are times when walking blurs together into an indiscernible blob of towns and similar looking landscape, and that began happening for me. It snuck up on me, beginning earlier, but really shone through on this stretch. It didn't help that many of the towns had similar names. We walked from town to town, with a day or so between. Thankfully, there were edifices between town where we could get water because it was still not flowing wildly in this desert. The route became less blurred for me as we left Tinogasta and walked along an abandoned dirt road out into the desert once more. This road wound up into the mountains and over a pass before dropping down the other side and into the small town of Londres.

How I feel during breaks

Just outside the town of Londres, there is a turn-off to go to some Incan ruins. We had been told about these ruins and debated if we wanted to go or not. As soon as we got to Londres, we unanimously decided to walk out the 5 km to the ruins 'El Shincal', the southern-most of the ancient Incan capitals. Fidgit and I were both glad to break up the monotony of what this section has been, and really enjoyed wandering around the ruins and talking with the guide. Best 30 pesos I've spent so far. Our guide found out what we were doing and asked us nearly as many questions about our trip as we asked her about the ruins. One of her last questions was "Where are you sleeping tonight?" When we said we weren't sure, she invited us to sleep in her yard next door. We slept soundly that night, and in the morning after abrazos and ciaos, we left, walking back to our route and towards the next town.

Belen, our next town, wasn't far, and we rolled into town in the late afternoon. After spending some time at the local YPF gas station using their internet, we decided to check out B&B Belen, which multiple people had suggested as a good information-gathering place as well as hostel. As soon as we met Ale and his wife Laetitia, we knew we were in the right place. They showed us around, warmed up some water for us to shower, and talked trails. Fidgit and I were so glad that Ale gave us a different option than Ruta 40; we didn't care that it went up a couple thousand meters and over a pass. We left Belen in high spirits despite the ATMs not allowing us to withdraw money, and we were running low on pesos.

I love desert blooms

We walked along the road until the turn-off to the trail we would be taking over the pass. As we walked up the dirt road, the mountains loomed and the sun crept behind them just in time for us to arrive at a small trail at the edge of a small town. We were trying to be sneaky, unsure if the trail was public, when an older woman came out of her house and shouted at us from her yard to follow the trail as she pointed it out to us. Trouble avoided, we followed the winding trail and found a small flat area just as it started getting into the twilight hours.

A man and his horse getting water

Fidgit and some cyclists on our road walking

Awaking to a light covering of dew, we packed up and continued up and up to the pass we planned on making it over. As we went higher, the trail we were following would disappear and then reappear nearby. We got back into the head space of looking ahead and guessing where the trail would go, and then finding it among the overgrowth. Nearing the high point of the pass, we found and were able to consistently stay on the trail to go up and over the 3,000+ meter pass. Coming down the other side, we followed a river bed, or wash, the whole way down. There were a couple of down climbs, though nothing to the extent of scaring us out of the wash and we persevered to the base of the valley. As the sun set along the mountain range, we were rewarded for our efforts by finding an abandoned homestead to use as a wind block for the night.

Looking out on the valley as we go up to
the pass before Londres

Starting out the next morning, we followed what seemed to be a well-worn horse path. With the way it was built, it wouldn't surprise me if the current path was built over an old Inca road. As we moved along, we came down to a larger drainage with towering sandstone cliffs around it. Thankfully the wash was aide and we also discovered a horse path along it, which later turned into a narrow road. At the end of our day, we reached the end of the valley and wandered through a few small towns before finding a campsite for the night.

Walking along a very dry wash

Waking up to frost on everything, we waited a bit for the sun to assist with the frost removal before packing up and find our way down the road. We had heard word of a hot springs near the town of Hualfin, so we were trying to find a way to get to the springs for the evening. We were walking along the road, but decided that a cross-country route could be faster. We made our way up a wash that looked like it would go into the next valley where the hot springs were located. Instead, we found ourselves on the edge of a steep cliff. As we are sometimes too stubborn to go back, we decided to attempt to find a way down this area. As we picked our way down an area that wasn't as steep as the rocky lumps around it, I realized that even though this may not be the fastest or safest way to get where we were going, I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

Llamas at the ruins

We ended up making it to the 'hot springs', which were disappointing so we camped elsewhere and made it into the small town of Hualfin the next morning. We were able to resupply and found a hostel. Unfortunately, we were still running low on pesos, and the ATM in town was out of money, so we were scrimping to try and make sure we had enough to get to the next large town. Everyone was very helpful, they even gave us a couple of discounts so we were able to scrape by on the small amount of money we had between us, phew!

Ruins- 'El Shincal'

Neon, Fidgit, and the ruins 

Learning about archaeological findings at the site

Fidgit learning new route options

Cactus!

Walking along the wash at 3,000 meters
in elevation

Old horse path/potential Inca road

So many beautiful washes. This
one was flowing!

Walking up another lovely wash instead
of the road into Hualfin

This is part of what we scrambled/climbed down to get
to the disappointing hot springs