As our trusty four by four carried us out of Tupiza to the surrounding mountains we noticed very much the change in altitude. During a stop for bewildering vistas from roughly the four-thousand metres mark, we were left short of breath just by walking excitedly for just a few seconds to take some pictures. Initially it can be quite worrying when you think that overnight you have suddenly become so unfit, perhaps like a heavy smoker, but the fear dissipates once you realize just how thin the air is at higher altitudes. Besides the views of weathered rock formations and copious cacti in the valley beneath, a strong smell of petrol was also much noticed, probably due to the inordinate quantity of gasoline leaking out from the tank. Our guide, Hugo, thought it best to return to base in Tupiza and swap the jeep for another one, but he seemed to change his mind after a half-mile coast down the hill. We continued forwards; slightly nerve wracking for some! What would happen if we lost all our petrol to the stony track beneath in a remote location such as the central Andean path? Meanwhile, as the stench of petrol loomed both outside and inside the jeep, we prayed that nobody who may happen to smoke would light up.
After another hour had passed we experienced one more mishap, though I must add that this wasn’t Hugo’s fault as he always seemed to drive with caution. A speedy someone emerged from around a blind corner on his motorcycle and despite his great efforts to avoid contact he quickly found himself and his bike beneath our vehicle. Without thinking we jumped jeep to see if the poor guy was all right which luckily he was, and as for his moto, that got off lightly too with only a snapped fender and a broken right-hand mirror. No harm done as after taking such a knock he mounted his motorbike and set off as if nothing had happened.
The most amazing part of the day was our lunch stop in the centre of a huge piece of land hugged by multi-tonal mountains, where inquisitive llamas of all colours enjoy grazing on the luscious, green grass and wading through some of the large ponds.
When we arrived in San Pablo De Lipez for another short break from the painful undulations from the jeep’s rocky trail we were very impressed by the large, well-preserved matt black bell that shone with a dull lustre every so often inside the high, mud-coloured tower. We found ourselves highly amused as we approached the village football pitch that was dominated by the lonesome llama as opposed to a boisterous gang of football fanatics. The old streets were lined with mud brick walls, some of which showed signs of decreasing tolerance against the harsh, forever-changing climate of the Andes. We were informed that the village only had one phone box and a radio for communication but we shortly discovered that the wooden, half-booth had no telephone inside, only two lost looking cables dangling.
On we rode towards our altitudinous accommodation of 4,225 metres in the even quainter farming village of San Antonio de Lipez, which boasted a large snow-capped Andean peak in the near distance. Beneath this mountain, llamas, again, seemed happy to be roaming freely and the very few that weren’t shy even posed for our camera. The pink ribbons that hung from one particular llama’s woolly ears swayed in the calm breeze of the valley as she stood grinning humbly. This village was also built largely from mud bricks and turned into even more of a spectacular setting as the sun went down and the gibbous moon’s glimmering presence enhanced itself amidst uncountable stars. The snow on the white dusted peak in the background reflected the moonlight in an icy, cold blue tone whilst lightning struck repeatedly behind the nearby mountain range.
No comments:
Post a Comment