South America

This will be my last post.
I haven't written in a long time, because I finally got to the US. I have spent nearly a month with Saba & Safta. They have been more than hospitable, given me everything I could possibly want, need and a lot more. Our daily schedule consisted of three meals a day, never failing to sit at the exact same time every day. Delicious food was served each night, and every morning a big breakfast of homemade chala.

The beginning of my visit was full of driving around with Saba & Safta, showing me the area, where they live now, and where they used to live, right on the bay in port Washington. I also spent about a week with a friend that lives in Manhattan, who showed me more of the city. We went to pubs, parties and had great time together.
After he left back to Israel for the summer, I was back with Saba & Safta. It took me a long time to decide what I want to do while I was here, because I had several Ideas before coming, but in the end nothing came to be. I wanted to go north to Toronto Canada and visit one of my best friends from my platoon, but I couldn't get in touch with him. He has been ill since last October, went through severl check-ups, but last I spoke to him, the doctors still didn't know what was wrong with him. I regret that I didn't try harder to get in touch with him, and trying harder to see him. I hope he's alright and wish him to be well.

Finally, after departing with myself for a long time, I decided to go on "vacation" in Miami, Florida. I went to Manhattan, bought myself a new pair of roller blades to take with me to Miami. Testing them for the first time in the streets and avenues of New York brought back fond memories of my childhood, when I used to ride my roller blades everywhere.

In Miami, I did what I trained myself to do in order to survive. I quickly found a place to stay. I went to Miami on May 30, right on Memorial day, so needless to say, accommodation was expensive. Even after the holiday weekend was over, by the standards I got used to in South America, paying 18 USD is very expensive. Unfortunately, I had no choice, because those are the prices here. On my first day there, I again did what I was used to doing, once I came to a new place, I explored, only this time I was moving a lot faster than usual. I rode for hours, getting to know every street and avenue in south beach. When I came back, I got to know the people that are staying with me in the hostel, and ended up hanging around with them until I went back to NY.
I must say, that hanging around three or four Brits, a Canadian guy, a french guy and a Serbian girl, I learned something, the British don't drink alot at once, they just start very early in the day.
So my days in Miami were spent mostly on the beach, on my roller blades, and drinking all day. It was a lot of fun, because, like always, the amount of fun you have in any given time, is depending on the people you spend your time with. We all went to Key West, renting two cars for all of us. I drove all the way there, in a Chrysler Sebring, and the other car was a Ford Mustang. The drive there was beautiful, full of bridges (we crossed one of the longest ones in the world, a 7 mile long bridge. We also saw a giant statue of a lobster, and all the way listened to great rock music on the radio. I know that Aba and Shaul would have loved that station, having very little commercials and a lot of good, old rock n' roll.

After a bit too long stay in Miami, I came back to NY for last few days I have left, before going back home.
I am going back home on sunday the 19th, so I have just over a week before going back.
The coming monday was just a few days before Safta's annual exhibition, so she asked me if I wanted to come and help set up the gallery. Growing up with so many of her works around me, I wanted to see where it all went down. We were picked up by her friend Sally, and drove all the way into Manhattan, through all the morning traffic, and all the way to Chelsea, where the exhibition takes place (I don't remeber the traffic jams. I was asleep). There we spent hours hanging works, and planing where everything goes, because it was also a new showroom for Safta's group, and according to her, a bit smaller too. We had a great time all morning and afternoon, despite the fact that she forgot to bring herself the sandwitches that she so laborously and lovingly made that morning.
I met most of the members in Safta's art group, all very nice, little old ladies (Safta's words!), except for Sally, who isn't old.

The next day Saba promised and delivered, and we all went to IHOP for breakfast. The International House of Pancake. I had the sweetest pancakes I've ever had, a bit too sweet for my taste, but we still had a ver nice time. After hearing so much about it, I had asked Safta to show me her works that she gave to their Synagogue. We drove to Port Washington, and let me tell you, their community is lucky to have them as members of the shull, because without Safta's works, that place would look completely different, more boring and less pleasant to the eye. Her beutiful artworks decorate almost every wall in there, as well as the Tora itself.

That weekend, on Thursday was Safta's exhibition. The night before, I was invited by Julia to go with her and her friend Jenna to the Natural History Museum in Central Park. I was very excited to finally spend some time with her, because we talked about it so much, but ended up canceling each time for various reasons, so I went to the city to meet them both. We were all at the meeting point earlier than planned, so before going to the museum, we had lunch with Sophie on Columbus ave. While sitting there, I noticed a big black Cadillac waiting just outside. I wondered about it for exactly two seconds and then brought my attention back to the conversation going on around me, and then a few minutes later I saw a guy that looks exactly like Steven Spielberg walk out the same place we sitting at. Connecting the dots, I came to the conclusion that with the big SUV with darkened windows, a man that looks just like him walking very fast toward that car, and a very big fellow waiting for them inside. It was definitely Steven Spielberg.
Anyway, coming back to reality, we finished up, and went to the museum. We spent hours there, scouring (and mostly getting lost) the whole of the bottom two floors. Later, our feet sore, from walking so much inside we needed to start making our way to Safta's gallery. So after an exhausting search for the exit, which took more than 15 minutes, we managed to escape. Meeting Sophie outside, we all went in the subway to Chelsea. At the exhibition, I was introduced to more than half the people there. Talking to artists and family members. I met Jeffery, Safta's oldest friend. A very nice man, I spent a very long time talking to him, and enjoyed every minute of it, until he left very early. Later in the evening finally, after a lifetime of growing up and hearing about him, seeing his portraits made by Safta in our house, I met David Leisner and Ralph, his partner. I enjoyed so much talking to them both, we ended speaking until the exhibition was over, and we had to close up shop.

Two days later, on Saturday, a day before leaving, we drove to Croton to help Jo move to her new house. We loaded up the car with dozens of Safta's works that Jo's taking with her and went to her new house. Let me tell you, because this is my first time in the USA, I have never been to Saba & Safta's old house, except seeing it on the outside, I was very impressed with the size of the place. A beautiful neighborhood, a great spot near the river, with a pool just two minutes away. The house isn't done yet, but I could see the potential it had and I loved what Jo wanted it to look like eventually. We had a great time together, before it was finally time to say goodbye and depart.

I am writing all this, despite the fact that the main characters mentioned here, were present during the making of this film, as a final recount of what we did together.

I want to thank from the bottom of my heart to the two main characters in this story, without whom not a day of this trip would have been possible. I want to thank you for your never-ending generosity, tolerance and love. I am grateful beyond words. My appreciation and adoration to you is so great. I love you very much, and I dedicate this whole blog, begining to end, to you.

I love you Saba Henry & Safta Shula.

This is my last post before going to the US.

Swarly and I left La Paz a day after we came back from Cochabamba. We took a bus, with a few other friends to Cusco, Peru, stopping on the way in Copacabana (it might be the same, famous town from the song, but I didn't really take the time to find out), there, we took a guided tour in the highest, and one of the biggest lakes in south America, called lake Titikaka. I know, great name.
Anyway, there, apparently still lives a tribe of Native Peruvian-Indians, on floating islands. They build the islands themselves, and receive many tourists there, and try to sell almost anything they have and make on their own. It's a very special place, unique only to that lake, because of the material they use to build and maintain the islands exists only there.
After the guided tour, later that day, we took a night bus and arrived at 6 AM in Cusco.
When we arrived, we looked for hours for a proper place to stay, with enough space for everybody, us being ten people. When we finally found a hostel, we quickly went out to scour the city. Cusco is a beautiful city, with large churches and cathedrals in the main plazas. Very modern, clean and tidy. Although, they still have no road rules while driving. Because we have such a short time left here in south America, Swarly and I didn't wait, and immediately went out to look for an agency that can take us to Machu Picchu mountain. We spoke to several agencies, until we found a cheap enough deal, and then told everybody about it. They all wanted to go also to Inca city, so they all went to the same agency and booked a deal for everybody to go together.

Early the next morning we were picked up by a van, that would take us to a town close to Agua Calientes (means "Hot Water" in Spanish), but is also nicknamed "Machu Picchu town". The ride was a horrible one, because we were eleven people; five males, five females and a french guy that joined our group. The van was very cramped and everybody became very cranky at one point or another. It took us over six hours to get to the drop-zone. From the DZ we had to walk for two and half hours, along a train-rail until we got to Machu Picchu town. There, we had a hostel waiting for us and dinner. The next morning we climb to Inca City, atop the Machu Picchu mountain.

The next..... Can't really call morning, because there were nights I haven't even thought of going to sleep at that time. Let's call it four hours later. We woke up at 3 AM, and started our way to the gates at the bottom of the stairs. Machu Picchu mountain has over 1600 steps. People wake up very early to get to the gates before they open. The reason for that is the Wyna Picchu. Wyna Picchu is another mountain-top, and only the first 400 people to get to the entrance of Machu Picchu, receive a stamp on their ticket, allowing them to be among those who get to climb this opposing top, overlooking the entire valley on one side, and Inca City on the other. Only 400 a day, so this makes the climb in the morning quite a race. Despite being in the back at the beginning, at the gates, I came among the first 50 people to the hut where they stamp the ticket. GO ME!
Anyway, that day was also Holocaust Day. We entered Inca City, and there we met our guide that would give us the tour in the city. After the first section, we told him we have something very important to do. He carried on, we stayed behind and stood for a minute of silence, on top of the Machu Picchu, remembering all of those we have lost. It was a very moving moment for everybody. Like always the Holocaust day is very hard, for everyone, but this time, with no official ceremony, no horn all over the country and no one else but us, it was a different experience all together.
After our small, private ceremony, we joined the group again and continued the tour in Inca city. When we were finally done, we went to climb the Wyna Picchu. Another climb of more steps, this time in daylight, and a shorter one as-well. The view from across the valley, at the city, was absolutely amazing. We could see the entire ridge, the river below us and the whole city spanning before us. It was incredible. When it was finally time to go down, I decided that instead of taking the bus down, like everybody else, I wanted to make it a full round trip, descending the same steps that I took earlier in the morning. So, Noam, my friend, the French guy and me, practically ran the whole way down, reaching the bottom before everybody else that took the bus down. We had enough time to catch our breaths before they came down, and once they did, we all began our march to meet the van that would take us back to Cusco. After about an hour's walk, one of the girls noticed that her camera isn't with her. This is where the problems started. We all talked it over, and someone had to go back with her to look for it. They all voted for someone who can make it back to town the quickest, by running, and by that he had to be the fittest among us. Guess who got picked; yours truly. I left my things with Swarly and began my journey back to town. We looked for the camera everywhere, beginning where she got off the bus, asked bus drivers to communicate among them to see if anybody found anything and we actually went up the mountain again (twice in one day!), only this time by bus. Eventually our efforts were futile, and if anybody found the camera, they probably took it. After more than two hours of searching, we started to walk back to the rail, where we began earlier. By the time I got to the meeting area, it was four and half hours late of the specified hour by our driver. He has a very tight schedule and couldn't wait for us, so he insisted on leaving without us. Our friends could only delay him that much, and so we missed them by no more than half an hour. We were stuck and didn't know what to do, because I gave everything I had to Swarly, including all my money and everything, so I could run better. The girl that I was with nearly ran our of money, because she spent it on looking for the camera, going up and down the mountain. We were perplexed, having not enough money to go by taxi all the way to Cusco, and having no idea where our friends were. All of a sudden a guy came up to us and asked us our names. He said our friends sent him and arranged a taxi for us to the nearest town, where our friends were waiting for us. When we arrived in the next town, we found our friends there and re-grouped. After we had our dinner, we set out again on our 6-7 hours drive back to Cusco, although it was already night time. The way back is very dangerous, it has many curves along the way, with sheer drops on one side and a cliff on the other. The first few hours out of that small town are dirt roads, before it becomes safer. Forty five minutes after we left, we hit trouble (and trouble doesn't like to get hit, so it hit back). We arrived at an odd scene, seeing many cars not moving, and people standing outside. Our driver went to check what was wrong and came back, saying there are rock slides up ahead. Now, at first we all said lets just drive through as quickly as possible and pass the slides' area of affect. Then came to us a group asking for help, saying one of their own was hit by a rock from the slides. It was an American guy, that was in our group in the morning, in the Machu Picchu tour. A rock actually fell on him, while he left his car, to look at the rock slide. He had a deep cut on his shoulder and kept bleeding. Swarly, being the army medic that he was, took care of his wound, and I had to sacrifice my shirt for the American's sake, so Swarly could stop the bleeding. RIP red shirt. Seeing the rock slides myself, how big and unexpected the rocks that were falling, I didn't want to take a chance. After a long time waiting for an answer on what we are going to do, our driver told us it was too late to continue that night, that we have to head back. We argued, we fought, but eventually we agreed to go back to the town we left earlier.
After a short but bumpy and grumpy ride, we found a cheap hostel for all of us. The next morning, we try our luck again with that road.

We woke up and took off. Six or seven hours later we reached Cusco. The ride was, again, terrible. No room in the back where I ended up, we were all (except for the french guy, because no-one understood him) cranky the whole way, the music was terrible and so was the smell. After we arrived back in our hostel, we went out for dinner, finding a great Irish pub, at the main square. We drank heartily and went to bed, for tomorrow, we do something stupid.

Swarly and I have been waiting for this the whole trip. We've been talking about it since we were still at home, months ago. Today we go Bungee Jumping. We found an agency and bought two tickets for one of the highest bungee jumps in the world. 122 meters above ground, jumping from an elevator, suspended in the air, connected by thick cables to the mountains on both sides of the valley. I jumped first, and decided to do it on my own terms; I took off my clothes, leaving only my boxers on and I wanted to jump facing backwards. I must say that this is the craziest thing I've ever done. The feeling you get just before the jump, the adrenalin pumping through me, hearing my heard race like few times before, and then the rush of wind, silence, seeing the elevator become smaller and smaller within seconds. And then the pull. The cable reaching it's full length and then going back up again. Three times the cable tightened and pulled me back up, until I remained hanging upside down, from my ankles, looking at the world the wrong way. After we both jumped, we went back to Cusco, and drank to Man United's victory in the pub again and were invited for a drink by two American doctors that happened to be there also. That night we bought tickets for our final stop of our trip, right before the flight. We go to Lima, Peru. A 20 something hour bus ride in a horrible bus, that kept swaying like a boat all through the night, kept us from falling asleep for most of it. At six in the morning the driver put on Peruvian music for everyone to hear, with no way of turning it off. A great way to wake up.
When we arrived in Lima we found a place To spend the week, and started to make do with what was left of our time.

Until my flight,
Hasta la Vista, Baby.

Well, I havn't written in quite a while, because frankly, there wasn't much to write about. After the six days that we spent on the river, we arrived in Rurre Nabaka. There we stayed for a few days, and took a taxi back to La Paz. There we met friends in our hostel, and most of the time we just sat around, played pool and drank. We spent our Seder at the restaurant in the hostel; a very short, to the point one. Later that week, we spoke to the guy that runs the restaurant at the top floor of our hostel, and apparently he has his own treking agency. We spoke to him for a while, and eight of us decided to go to his own, personally planned trek. Six days, where we have jeeps, rock climbing, paragliding, and more. On the 21st of April we left La Paz for a city called Cochabamba, where we begin our trek.

We took a night bus to Cochabamba, where it was so cold at night and the toilet was broken, that I couldn't sleep at all. Fortunately the bus ride was very quick, and we arrived very early in the morning. We went to his house, where his friends made breakfast for all of us and we prepared for departure. Later in the morning we went in the jeeps into the mountains, and drove for hours until we reached a cabin in the middle of the jungle, near a small river, where we set up camp. That day, we called it an early night because the next day we go rock climbing.

The following morning we had our Kingly breakfast, made by our guides, and drove for about an hour in the jungle, until we reached the most beautiful chain of waterfalls I have ever seen in my life. We all went into the jungle, just off the stream, and climbed for hours on the trees, rocks and thick vegetation using ropes where we needed to. This place is deffinately the most amazing place I have seen on my trip. The water was running from the top of the mountain, and you could see every small waterfall along it's way down. It was amazing. Eventually, we reached a big rock plate, with natural pools, where we rested and took some silly pictures. Like I said before, what goes up, has to go down, so before the sun set, we began our race against time, to get out of the jungle in one peace before dark.
Once we got back to the campsite it hit me again. I haven't mentioned this before, but I got very ill this past week. Since last Tuesday I've been a bit weak. The first day on the trek I felt like I couldn't go on, so at night I rested, and by the next morning I felt slightly better, and couldn't miss out on that rock climbing oportunity. Unfortunately my body couldn't agree less with me, and when we got back, my knees hurt like hell, and my stomach gave me plenty of trouble, with a general weakness all over my body.

The next day was one of the worst experiences I've had. I woke up feeling so weak, I asked our guide to take me to a local hospital. He said there's one less than an hour away, and everybody wanted to come with me, because it was raining so hard anyway, they couldn't go do what was planned for that day, and also to be with me. We drove to the nearest town, and I saw a nurse that doesn't speak english, so I had to use one of my friends as translator for her. She gave me a shot of antibiotics where the sun don't shine, and then I couldn't even sit to relax. After that, everything went to hell and just froze. She gave me some antibiotic pills to take every few hours.
We all sat outside to eat lunch, when I felt so bad I went to the jeep. I felt so cold that I started to sweat. So hot that I was shaking uncontrolably. We went back after that to the campsite, where I lay in bed. The keeper of the cabin covered me up with blankets, that made me sweat cold sweat and soak my clothes through. My friends later came in and said I was pale as a ghost, took my shirt off, and I asked them to get me my sleeping bag. That was a good choice, because it was the first time that day that I felt comfortable, not too hot, not too cold. Finaly I fell asleep, tossing and turning, fighting away the illness, until when morning came, the sun dawned and I prevailed.

I felt alot better the next morning, after the shot, that I was able to go along with everybody to the Inca ruins.‏‎ Our guide, Alex, took us to a place called Incallajcta, there we toured around the remains of and Incan city, with temples and everything. Later that day we went to a hidden waterfall. Alex, our guide knows the area so well he discovered a single, tall, hidden waterfall in an opening in the mountain. We walked for less than 200 meters until we right underneath it. It was majestic, with it's size and power. It was so strong, that standing 50 meters away got you completely wet.
After everything was seen and done we went back to Cochabamba, finding a hotel for eveybody, and then we all went out to a restaurant together.

Early the next morning, we all woke up, had a quick breakfast, and were picked up by Alex to go to an open area just outside of town, to go Paragliding. We were eight people, and every turn takes more than half an hour. We had to wait at the "landing" area, while each in turn was taken by jeep to the top of the mountain, to a cliff, where we jumped off of. We had only one guide, so he had to do it over and over and over, taking a very long time between jumps. While up there though, it was so relaxing and quiet, you can't not enjoy it. One after the other we jumped, until there was no-one left to jump. We cleared away from there and headed over to the Spa.
Now, at first, the idea sounded good, but once we got there, we realized it wasn't quite so. When you think of a spa, you luxury, hansom men, beautiful women, and healthy stuff. This place was full of old, fat Bolivian men and women. There was one guy with a Hitler moustache, a guy that looks like Mousolini, and a woman that looks like Golda Meir, all sitting next to each other. Very ironic. Anyway, we entered the sauna, swam in the sub-zero pool, and received a massage from a very violent woman. It wasn't a pretty sight, and while on the "Death Bed" I couldn't help but pray for it to be over.
Once out of there, we took a abus at night back to La Paz, and from there we go to Peru.

May the force be with you.

I want to tell you the story of the scariest bus ride in the world. Bolivia doesn't have proper roads, with asphault, or even narrow, one way dirt roads. All that it has is mountanous trails, with sheer cliffs on either side. On the right is a jungle, and on the left, over 200 meters of free fall straight into the river. The trail has many, many curves, and is very narrow. Like the Death Road that I took the bike ride in, about a week ago, only this one is longer and has more cars in it. We went on Tuesday morning to the bus station in La Paz, and took a bus that supposedly was a 10 hour ride to a small town called Guanay. We never got there. That 10 hour bus ride turned out to be more than 30 hours on the road. We got stuck at night at a small village with two and half buildings, because the way ahead of us was too dangerous. There were mud slides from the mountain above us and the bus driver didn't want to take a chance. At some point, we nearly tipped over when a truck came ahead of us. The next morning, we had to wait for construction machinery to rescue another truck that got stuck in the mud, wheel deep. Eventually, after more hours on the road, our guides happened to pass us by in their car, on the way to look for us. We dissembarked, and went with our guides to the river, and built our raft. This is our second day. Today, we were supposed to start our sail down the river. It took us such a long time to build the thing, that night time came, and the guide said it was too late already, and we'll set out in the morning. So, we set up camp, and sat down to have dinner.

The next morning we "set sail" on the Amazon river, for four days on a raft that we built with our bare hands. Not the greatest of ideas, but certainly, one of the craziest, and most fun. Our first day, was mostly high currents, and alot of mosquitos. We got bit hundreds of times each. We floated until evening, when we arrived at a small town on the riverbed, and set up camp right there, on the bank.

The next day was alot smoother, more relaxed, but still plenty of man-eating mosquitos. The river was so calm, the sun so strong that our guides let swim around the raft the whole day. Most of the day we just caught some sun and relaxed. When the day came to an end, we parked our car at the side of river, and climbed a few meters of sand cliffs to find a marked path. It's like they knew it was there. We trode the path for a few minutes finding a small, abandoned miners village with banana trees, coconut trees, and papayas. We camped there for the night, and said our Shabat blessings. We couldn't drink their goy wine, so we drank whiskey instead.

The next morning we woke up to a great breakfast, made by our guides, and then we went into the jungle for a few hours, to look for clean water. On the way we saw giant spiders, drank out of trees and had a generally humid time.
When we came back, we had lunch and continued on our way to Rurrenabaka. Once the sun set, we found yet another place to set up camp, and there we celebrated our last night on the raft, with whiskey and wine.

That night it started to rain, and didn't stop for most of the next day. We waited for the rain to stop, which only happened at noon, so we continued quite late that day. Our guide said we'd get to Rurrenabaka very late, after dark, so we convinced a man to take us by boat the rest of the way.

Rurrenabaka is a small tourist town on the Amazon river. There are plenty of options here, and once we get settled, we'll see what's next.

Hello everybody!

I greet you this time, for the last time, from Argentina. I finaly left Salta, after two weeks. Swarly came on Thursday afternoon,‏ ‏on the 10th, and we both took a bus the next morning to a small, out of the way town, called Tilcara. This town looks alot like a town from a Robert Rodriguez movie. The town is in the north of Argentina, three and half hours away from the Bolivian border. Most of the people there are more Bolivian than Argentinian. We found a shithole of a hostel (pardon my french), and started to scour the town for things to do. We found out that this weekend, was the last weekend of the carnaval, so we asked around to know where it takes place. People told us that we couldn't miss it, because the town is so small, and the carnaval goes around town and they make alot of noise. Just follow the noise. In the end, they settled just beyond a low wall from our room at the hostel, and indeed, made alot of noise. The thing itself was proportunate to the size of the town. Very small, but very festive (festivus anyone?), plenty of colors, colorful outfits and foam. Much, much foam.

At dinner, we talked it over, and agreed that other than this carnaval, there isn't much esle to do here, and decided that we want to go on to Bolivia.
We took a bus the next morning (it was only an hour late!), to the border town, La Quiqa (pronounced Kaika). There, we dissmounted, and walked to Bolivia. The border was very messy. Very similiar to that border town in Paraguay, only smaller, with a flee market to greet us into the promissed land. We call it the promissed land, because of Bolivia's redicoulusly low prices. Bolivia is a third world country. Very poor and dissorganized. Once we crossed the border we found the bus terminal, and booked a bus ride to Tupiza. Tupiza is in the south-west of the country, close to Chile and Peru.
The bus ride was quite terrifying. Most of the way was unpaved, and due to rain, there were many puddles on the road. More than once I spoke to people that took busses in Bolivia, and said that they got stuck for hours in the mud. We were lucky, and after two hours we arrived at the small city of Tupiza.

Our next objective, once we found a place to sleep, was to find people to go on a jeep trip with us, in the Salar. Upon walking around the city the next morning, we met friends from our hostel in Salta, and asked if they want to come with us, because the more people, the cheaper the activity is. They said that they already booked a trip for the next day with some other people, and hurt, but still hopefull, we kept searching. Israelis are easy enough to find in this small city, and companions we found. We booked a trip with six others, taking two jeeps, for less than 800 bolivian. The currancy here is very cheap: 1 bolivian is close to 0.5 NIS. So, all in all, it was quite cheap. On Monday the 14th, we go.

The next morning we woke up, packed our stuff, and went to meet our companions. At 9 AM we set out by two jeeps for the desert. We drove for hours in breathtaking scenery. We stopped in two villages along the way, with houses that are built of mud. On the way we saw hundreds of Llamas. The Llamas here are used for their wool and meat, and are very comon in Bolivia. We finaly reached a small village, at the ass-end of nowhere, and there we camped for the night.

The next morning we woke up at half past four AM. We quickly packed up our stuff and headed out again. We drove for hours until we reached our first destination, which was a small village, with natural hot springs. There we had our lunch, and after everything was sqeeky clean, we jumped in. Due to our extreme hight, breathing was difficult, and the winds were very strong, and cold, so the high temperature of the spring was a welcome change. We relaxed in the water for a while, caught some well-needed sun, and continued on our way. Tupiza is very high above sea level, and our whole trip through the Bolivian desert is also very high. Today, most of the time we were above 4000 meters high. The scenery mostly stays the same, with brown-yellowy mountains, some of them are capped with snow in the distance. Our driver took us to many beautiful places along the way. Lagoons ritch with minerals that make the water seem green, with strong winds that froze our private parts. At some point, our driver also took us to a place with many holes in the ground that spew steam at very high temeratures, and boiling mud. The smell of brimstone and sulfur was very strong (smells like rotten eggs). We took snapshots of as much as we could endure outside of the jeep, due to strong, cold winds, and went on. At the end of the day, we reached another campsite to make our night there.
The whole day we saw Llamas.many, many Llamas.

On our third day, we woke up early in the morning for a change, and set out. Most of the scenery, again, was brown and yellow mountains. Llamas were walking aimlessly, and we reached our first stop. We came to a small lagoon packed with thousands of flamingo. It was still early morning, and the sun hasn't come over the mountains yet, and the view was incredible. We took plenty of pictures of the early morning, and carried on.
The rest of the day was very similar. Mountains, lagoons, Llamas, flamingo, breakfast, lunch. our final destination for today, was a small city, right at the edge of the Salar, called Uyuni. There we found a place to sleep, bought a ticket for the next day to La Paz, and called it a day, after walking about in the city a bit, seeing the flee market.

The next morning, we woke up before sunrise, in order to get to the Salar just as the sun comes up. The Salar desert is 25 km from Uyuni, and is 12000 square kilometers big. When we got there, it was flooded. There was a fine sheet of water covering the entire thing. Looking to the distance, with the suns´ light, the reflection of everything was perfect. It looked like a giant mirror. We spent a few hours there taking silly pictures, taking advantage of the huge area for proportions. Because everything is so flat, you can take pictures as if your head is sticking out of a Pringle's tube, running away from a toy dinosaur and more. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera at the hostel, so I didn't take any pictures there. Take my word though, it was beautiful.
On thursday evening, March 17, we leave for La Paz by bus.

Until next, may the force be with you.