Friday, 28 March 2025

The Altitudes of Bolivia [March, 2024]

The next stop on my trod through South America was Bolivia. My time there was short but full. Rocky nature was my primary target (as usual), and I was beyond satisfied. I'll let photos do most of the talking for this one.

Salar de Uyuni, Boliva

Coming up through the southwestern part of the country, I went straight to the heart: The Uyuni Salt Flats. Timing was kind to me as I visited during the rainy season, and the water turned the flats into one big mirror. 

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia in the rainy season, resulting in a water mirror on top of the salt

We got to see time passing in the reflected colors of the sky as it took us a full day to cross just a small section of the flats in a 4x4 vehicle. 

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

Nights were spent at small, basic hotels scattered around the southernmost part of the Altiplano (high plateau in the Andean mountains stretching through Peru, Bolivia, and northern Chile). 

Altiplano (High Plain), Bolivia

Exiting the salt flats, the landscape was dominated by volcanos, rock formations, sand dunes, lagoons, and mountains in every shade of brown. 

Altiplano (High Plain), Bolivia

Life was scarce but not missing as different species of flamingos inhabit the big lagoons when they are filled with sufficient water, and vicuñas (relative of llamas, and potentially the ancestor of alpacas) roam the dry terrain. 

Altiplano (High Plain), Bolivia

Moving through a volcanically active landscape offered us a luxurious spa experience as we bathed in hot springs below the clear desert night sky bleeding with stars.

Bathing in hot springs under the stars, Altiplano (High Plain), Bolivia

Most of our time was spent in the car as we covered large distances every day, and we took turns connecting our phones to the radio's AUX cable.

Altiplano (High Plain), Bolivia

The best part of multiday trips: All the pretty sunset (and sunrise) skies. They just don't hit the same when they're are partially hid by tall buildings and city obstruction. 

Spotting vicuñas (relative of llamas, and potentially the ancestor of alpacas) Altiplano (High Plain), Bolivia

Leaving the desert, my next stop was the city of La Paz. At an altitude of 3650 meters, it's the highest capital in the world, and located in a basin surrounded by mountains. It's a wild place to be. People flying in directly from Lima or other low-lying places often experience symptoms of altitude sickness when arriving. Luckily, I had increased my elevation slowly and steadily coming up from Argentina by land, and I felt great.

La Paz (3650 m), Bolivia

As much as I loved wandering around the colorful and chaotic streets of La Paz, my eyes were set on the mountains surrounding the city. Specifically, the peak Huayna Potosí. Again, I was grateful for the slow travel that had allowed me to adapt to increased elevation since this peak sits above six thousand meters. 

Ice climbing to practice using our ice axes and crampons on a glacier near base camp below Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

This "beginner-friendly" peak can be scaled by people who have no previous climbing experience (like me) as long as you're accompanied and supported by competent and professional guides. 

Above the clouds at our second and final camp before summiting Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

Even though I have done my fair share of mountain hiking, scrambling across gnarly ridges and atop rocky peaks, my experience in snow was next to nothing, and I had never used any rope or gear apart from good hiking boots. 

Above the clouds at high camp before summiting Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

Instead, my advantages include a well-used set of legs, good lungs, and a stubbornness and willingness to prove myself that a psychologist might attribute to having grown up with two brothers my own age. 

Setting off in the dark at 1:00 AM to summit Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

To prepare for the climb, we acclimatized to the altitude by spending two nights at different elevations: Base camp at 4800 meters, and high camp at 5200 meters.

La Paz lighting up the sky in the distance

On our first day, we practiced using our crampons and ice axes on a glacier close to base camp. I tried ice climbing for the first time, and one single, short climb completely wiped my arms out. Luckily apart from a few short sections, the actual ascent of the famous peak is mainly a slow but long walk in the snow. 

Climbing Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

On the second day, we moved to high camp by a short hike. Rainy weather prolonged our pace but in the evening, the sky cleared. More specifically, the clouds sank, and we were treated to a sea of peaks peaking through the white sea. 

Climbing Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

Our third and final day started at midnight as we had to start climbing by 1:00 AM. The ascent normally takes around six hours, and we had to reach the summit by sunrise before the warm sunlight melts the snow, making the path unstable and potentially unsafe. 

The sun rising as we climb Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

I can't say I minded the early start. It was magical climbing beneath the stars whose light was far from bothered by the light pollution coming from our head torches.

Early in the morning close to the summit of Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

Our pace was turtle-like to prevent altitude sickness from kicking in, and to avoid sweating which could turn us cold and hypothermic real quick. We took many breaks to move slower, and to load up on chocolate and sugar.

Sunrise near the summit of Huayna Potosí, Bolivia

We were just below the summit as the sunrise turned from pink to golden... 

Almost there (around 07:00 AM)...

... and at around 07:00 AM, we made it to the top.

And we made it to the summit of Huayna Potosí (6088 m), Bolivia

I can't say I prefer high-altitude mountaineering, snow and ice to scrambling with a backpack through valleys of fierce green and dips in turquoise alpine water. But I would like to stand on a snow-covered peak or two again. 

On the summit of Huayna Potosí (6088 m), Bolivia

And Bolivia has my heart. 

Saturday, 15 March 2025

Hiking, camping, and hitchhiking in la Quebrada de Humahuaca, Jujuy, Argentina [February, 2024]

The northwestern corner of Argentina is not a forgotten part of the map but it is often skipped over in favor of more famous places nearby like the Atacama desert in Chile or the Uyuni Salt Flats in Bolivia. La Quebrada de Humahuaca in the province of Jujuy is this gorgeous, colorful, otherworldly mountain valley which has been inhabited by people for about ten ten thousand years. Filled with unique landscapes, cultural heritage, and raw mysticism, this place had been high on my bucket list for a while.

Purmamarca, Jujuy, Argentina

Using the province capital, San Salvador de Jujuy, as my initial base, I booked a day tour that took me through Purmamarca, the first of many notable villages lining the valley floor of the Quebrada de Humahuaca.

Purmamarca, Jujuy, Argentina

From here, we turned west and went to the salt flats Las Salinas Grandes where we got to play around and feel very small (also a nice appetizer for what was to come in Bolivia (post incoming)). 

Las Salinas Grandes (salt flats), Jujuy, Argentina

Las Salinas Grandes (salt flats), Jujuy, Argentina

Pucará de Tilcara, Jujuy, Argentina

Next stop was the village of Tilcara where some national tourists (from Buenos Aires and Rosario) I met at my hostel were going on a small, guided tour up the western side of the valley, and invited me to join. 

Tilcara, Jujuy, Argentina

Our guide was a local spiritual leader whose family was native to the area. As we were making our way up the mountain, we would take many breaks sitting on the ground in a circle where he would tell us about the natural philosophy and practices of the local people. I felt very lucky to be able to have such an intimate experience where my Spanish language skills, I had picked up as an exchange student ten years earlier, made this possible. 

Hiking near Tilcara, Jujuy, Argentina

Part of the hike involved entering various caves (hence the helmets in the upcoming photo), the native people use as a place to meditate. Our guide led us through a couple of these traditional meditations in pitch black darkness. 

Hiking near Tilcara, Jujuy, Argentina

Hiking near Tilcara, Jujuy, Argentina

From Tilcara, I hitchhiked to Humahuaca, the next big village up the valley. Not because busses weren't very cheap and too unreliable. But because I wanted some adventure. Which I got. It was surprisingly hard to hitchhike in this region (and with that I mean I had to wait more than an hour for a ride which I'm not used to as someone who has mainly hitchhiked with a female partner). Still, people were very kind, many signaling that they were only driving around the area and therefore not an option.

Campsite in Humahuaca, Jujuy, Argentina

Despite this small challenge, I managed to make it to Humahuaca in two rides (the second one easier to catch as I was waiting next to a smaller village on a more deserted road (pity is a strong motivation behind picking up a hitchhiker)). Here, I seemed to be a lonely camper as I came in summer, also known as the rainy season. 

Serranía de Hornocal, Humahuaca, Jujuy, Argentina

Luckily, a French couple traveling around the continent in a car joined me under a shelter as the evening rain came down, and we shared dinner, coffee, wine, and stories. The following day, they gave me a ride to Serranía de Hornocal, a characteristic mountain range known for its vibrant earthy colors. 

Campsite in Iruya, Salta, Argentina

Next stop was the small village of Iruya in the province of Salta (right next to Jujuy) which I reached with a small bus going around narrow corners and clinging on to the smallest edges as the mountain side just dropped below. One of those death roads you hear about in South America. But the other passengers, mainly locals, seemed very relaxed. 

Iruya, Salta, Argentina

Friends in Iruya, Salta, Argentina

Hiking near Iruya, Salta, Argentina

I only had a single night in this village, but that was enough to go on an afternoon hike. I was only supposed to go on a short one to a known look out spot but once I got to the top, paths kept going on along the side of the mountain. Empty of signage, these paths are mainly created and used by shepherds, and they were too tempting to miss out on. 

Hiking near Iruya, Salta, Argentina

Meeting another friend while hiking near Iruya, Salta, Argentina

Hiking near Iruya, Salta, Argentina

Hitchhiking in Jujuy, Argentina

Leaving Iruya, I caught a bus back to Humahuaca and stretched out my thumb once again to hitch a ride to La Quiaca, the final village in the valley, bordering Bolivia, and also where you find the beginning (or end depending on how you want to define it) of Route 40, the iconic road my dad and I had driven a good chunk of on motorcycles a few weeks earlier. That felt like a good symbolic ending to the Argentinian part of my journey.  

La Quiaca, Jujuy, Argentina (border town to Bolivia)