Sucre and Potosi

First problem with the bus from La Paz to Sucre – there was none. Por que? Well of course they wouldn't tell us, but ourselves and another Scottish couple who had reservations were booked onto another service for no extra charge. Unfortunately there were a few problems with this overnight “cama” bus. Cama my backside, the seats did not recline enough to sleep, there were no toilets, the bus was freezing, they kept stopping for no apparent reason and opening the doors making it more freezing, the driver was smoking, there was a guy snoring like a chainsaw beside us, they played Spanish movies at full blast until about 12pm and finally the reading lights did not work.. all in a nights travel in Bolivia, I kept telling Damien! You've got to be flexible! (Screw flexible, that’s the end of night buses in Bolivia we decided afterwards.)

Sucre from above

Sucre is so different to La Paz. It definitely is wealthier and the white buildings give it a rather regal air. After a day relaxing we decided to do a mountain bike tour, taking the “challenging” classification with a pinch of salt. I can safely say the first half of the tour was the worst two hours of the whole trip to date, and possibly of my life! It was solely uphill at a steep gradient, the road was incredibly dusty and the sun was beating down like a maniac. By the time we reached the lunch spot I had fallen off twice and was quite miserable. Thank the lord the lunch was good and after this it was mainly downhill. I am now firmly not a fan of mountain biking! 

At least Damien managed to stay on the bike..

We hit up Oktoberfest (in Bolivia, how odd!) afterwards to numb the pain in my extremely bruised backside. In a last minute change of plan we decided to head to Potosi in the morning as it would eradicate the need for any night buses and we had heard lots of good reports about the city.

Potosi again was a very different and interesting place (Bolivia, you just keep on giving!) Once an incredibly wealthy city and the equal of many European cities in size due to its large silver mine, the city nowadays is a lot more modest, but bright and appealing with lots of multicoloured buildings lining narrow streets. Also it it is one of the highest cities in the world at a lofty 4090m. You really notice altitude like this, it crushes your lungs when you try to inhale a deep breath and makes any sort of exertion extremely difficult. The main attraction here is a tour of the mines, no longer yielding silver, but other valuable minerals, and now worked as a cooperative amongst 15,000 miners. The interesting (and potentially dangerous) thing about these tours is that you are in a working mine, where dynamite is used constantly as the miners do their work, and there are no real safety precautions.

The mine looms in the distance

Firstly we were given protective clothing and headlamps, and then taken to a refinery where they sort and process the minerals the miners extract. Then we visited a miners market to buy gifts to give to the miners (good old coca, this is all they consume once below as eating would mean ingesting a lot of dust, which makes them ill, we also bought some dynamite and juice). Finally it was up to the mouth of the mine we were going to enter – La Candelaria. I think everyone felt a little nervous at this point as the giggles had died down and the mood was a bit subdued.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go!

The first bit of walking was fine, but then the roof got lower and the temperature began to increase. Eventually we were crawling on our knees, ouch ouch ouch! We finally reached an opening where we got to speak to some of the miners. There was a family of a man and two sons, and the father has worked the mines for thirty years. His nineteen year old son had been there for 5 years. Everyone was more than happy to shower them with gifts after experiencing some of the horrible conditions they work in. “ You'll love your jobs after this!” our guide had told us, and he certainly was right.  

This miner was a little shy (or just didn't like Damien)

We sat in silence (and fear on my part) as the dull thuds of 12 rounds of dynamite echoed through the mountain, making it shake. Quite scary! The rest of the tour involved more horrible crawling through extremely narrow passages and a visit to El Tio, the god who the miners offer up coca and alcohol to. Usually he’s also very well endowed, but this guy’s bits and bobs had fallen off!

Castrated Tio

Everyone was delighted to emerge into the bright sunlight after two hours in the mines, but it was a humbling few hours and like many other experiences and sights in South America made us feel very lucky to lead such comfortable and privileged lives.

That night we had a meal out with the mines group, in a restaurant which I doubt ever served a table of eight before! Next stop Tupiza!

I'll stick with insurance, thanks