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| Looking from the boat over Copacabana |
Our first priority upon arriving was to find a boat to immediately make our way to Isla del Sol. As we stood off the bus, once again we just happened to be in the right place at exactly the right time. While collecting my bags I met a Colombian and a French couple, both of whom were intending on making their way over to the island. Gareth and I didn't really know how we were going to go about finding a boat, but it seemed that already things were taking care of themselves. After a brief look around we found a company and for about $3 we had our two and a half hour boat ride booked. I was looking forward to a relaxing boat ride, and we were lucky enough to get really good weather which set the stage for some great views. After boarding the boat and jumping up for the roof view I quickly realized that the scarf and wolly hat were finally going to get some use in this trip. As the boat took it never really seemed to get any faster. The island isn't really that far away, all the boats just seem to like to turn a half our ride into something significantly longer. It was another example of South American logic that I couldn't really understand.
The slow ride didn't bother me at all. Once we got out into the open I got my first view of the Bolivain Andes, they were a mountain range which dominated the horizon. As I gazed at them I felt a chill of excitement, knowing that in a couple days I'd be climbing to the summit of one of them. It also didn't take long before we got a view of the island. Edging closer, I started to see signs of life appear on the island. We were arriving at the south side of the island, which was meant to be by far the most touristy side. All of us were looking for the more chilled out cultural experience, so upon arrival our next task was to find a boat to take us up to the far end. There ended up being about nine of us from the original ride whom were interested in heading up, which made it easy to crack a deal with the captain to take us the remaining of the way. After skipping boats at the halfway point we'd arrived at the north end of the island. Unlike the well populated south side, crawling with tourists, the north was the complete opposite.
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| Our first view of Isla del Sol |
As soon as I set foot on the island I immediately noticed the vast contrast between the two ends. The South side had been well set up for tourism with pizza restaurants scattered everywhere, and a wide range of accommodation providing for all budgets. The culture was visible there, but it was very much integrated into the tourism scene. Where we were seemed to be untouched by the tourism. There wasn't another tourist to be seen, and we wouldn't have known where the accommodation was if it wasn't for the young children that immediately came up to us proposing their hospitality services. All that existed were a few houses, some of which were converted into basic restaurants. There seemed to be no activity around the place apart from the young children who seemed to enjoy the novolty of having a few tourists around. Every once in a while an old man would slowly walk by, rounding up his small crop of underfed sheep or cattle, where exactly they were taking them remained a mystery to me, as there didn't appear to be any fertile feeding areas anywhere close by. The Colombian guy who accompanied us was a very keen barganer, so with his native spanish speaking ability I left the negotiating up to him. After a brief look around we found a place offering beds for 15 bolivianos each ($3NZ.) Some of the guys were adamant that they could nail the price down even more, but I decided that $3 wouldn't break my budget, so I settled on that.
Our visit to the island was very brief. After putting our gear down I had a wee look around, but I mainly spent the time just relaxing and trying to adapt to the jump we'd made in altitude. We planed to walk to the South side early the next morning before catching a boat back to Copacabana. From there we intended to catch a late morning bus and hopefully be in La Paz by late afternoon. The following morning required an early start. We began the walk back at around 7am, and after asking for directions a couple of times we were on our way South. The clear morning provided us with great panoramic views, making the two and a half hour walk a great way of getting to know the island. After arriving in the South with about 30mins to spare for the return boat ride, Gareth and I concluded that we'd gotten to know enough of the island during our brief stay to satisfy our curiosity. This visit was great, but the real thing that the two us were awaiting was the arrival to La Paz, a city which we'd heard so much about from everyone who'd visited it, a city that we were highly anticipating getting to know for ourselves.
The bus ride from Copacabana to La Paz revealed my first view of the rural Bolivian countryside. The road was scattered with small communities, many of which contained the most basic design of houses. Most of them looked like they only really had one room. The land was so dry and barren that there were no trees to be seen within miles, leaving them with clay as the only natural resource in which to build their houses. The roofs were made of big clumps of grass which had been thatched together. The ground outside would often be blanketed by sheets containing corn which would be in the process of drying out in the sun. These are not only a very important staple food for these people, but also a source of much needed income. I've found many times throughout this trip that bus rides give a very good insight into the true community culture of the country. Once again I found myself looking out into this isolated landscape, trying to fathom how it would be to be brought up in such an environment. These scenes almost always stimulate a lot of thinking in me. I realised that the biggest tragedy for these people, children in particular, isn't so much their lack of money and comforts that many others enjoy, but rather a lack of education, and a complete absence of any opportunity to see things in any other way. This almost seals their fate from day one to live the same life as all the generations that have gone before them. For many of these children, to imagine a life of prosperity, or even a life of basic comfort, would be so far from their customs that it wouldn't even come close to coming up in their awareness. It seems ironic that many of the areas of great poverty are often some of the areas that are most resistant to change.
As we approached the time that I thought must surely be getting towards the end the bus ride, we entered into the beginnings of urban chaos. At first I thought it was a small city that we were passing through before entering La Paz, but as time went by, the density, traffic, and noise, seemed to exponentially increase. It was literally an hour of hustling through suburbia before we came across the city centre. Approaching the city was by far one of the most spectacular sites of my trip so far. I knew that this was meant to be an impressive site, so throughout the previous hour I was looking around for all these impressive mountains, trying to find these views that I'd seen on all the photos, but I now realised that the whole time we'd been slowly creeping up to it from around the side. We'd now finally started heading down into the valley, at this point we were staring down into a gigantic bowl. The heart of the city was at the bottom, then the suburbs just blanketed out and over the mountain faces, the city appeared well adapted to the steep and unforgiving terrain. In the distance where huge 6000 meter snow capped mountains that stood over the city, appearing like guardians.
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| La Paz |
When we arrived and got a taxi to a hostel, we got to know the streets up close and personal for ourselves. From above it looked very majestic in its grand appearance, but up close it was one of the most congested, and out of order places I'd seen yet. I immediately realised that this was the Bolivia that people spoke of when they'd described it to me earlier in my trip. Markets spilled out onto nearly every street, at times barely giving enough room for two way traffic. We happened to strike the rush hour in which cars would be backed up, drivers relentlessly banging on their horns as if it was really going to make any difference. Many of the women were dressed in their traditional outfits, sitting at their stalls, chewing on a mouth full of coca leaves. Everyone here seemed to have a set agenda, they all appeared to be desperately trying to battle to chaos to get somewhere. Meanwhile Gareth and I were sitting in the back seat of a taxi steering out the window in fascination. This energy quickly affected me. It was hard not to feel slightly uptight in this environment, but later on after I got used to it, it ended up becoming an energy that I really enjoyed.
We managed to find ourselves a hostel in a perfect location, right next to the witches market. This place is a shoppers disneyland, for me in particular, every second or third shop specialised in traditional musical instruments. I warmed to La Paz very quickly, before long I named it as my favourite major city that I'd seen so far. After a brief walk around the area we decided that it was time to plan our next move, a summit climb up the great Huayna Potosi, a 6088 meter mountain which several people had told me about, all of whom saying it was one of the hardest things they've ever done, but equally one of the most amazing. This was a popular attraction here so there were offices everywhere offering climbing tours. We dedicated the second day to walking round and checking out a few places before deciding on one to go with.
After breakfast it was straight into the search. We found a street which was full of agencies, so we figured that it would be a good place to start. The first two we went to barely spoke any english, and they gave us very brief information. As we walked into our third place we were warmly greeted by a man with a welcoming smile and a nice light sense of humour. Looking back now I guess it was this charm that won us over immediately. We told him what we wanted to do and he gave us a comprehensive overview of what options we had. We decided on the three day option to better acclimatize ourselves. He then explained each day in exact detail, right to the point of what time we'd arrive at the summit on the third day. At the end of his explanation we decided to look no further, Alfredo seemed just the right man to offer the service. Throughout the explanation he offered us a couple of choices, one of which was whether we wanted to camp the first night, or just stay in the refugio. He highly recommended the camping option saying, "this option is so much better, this way you can just lie down in your tent and look at this beautiful view of the mountain, it's just a nicer experience." It sounded like sound advice so we gladly took him up on it. After all this we walked out of the office fully pumped, day dreaming about what it will be like to be standing on the summit in a couple of days. We were due to leave the following morning, and after meeting up with another friend that night, we had a third member for the team. Although Alfredo clearly pointed out that we only have one guide between two people, he also said that he would send up an extra guide before the summit climb to even up the numbers if we needed it. With this assurance we were glad to welcome Julius aboard, a chilled out German whom we'd gotten to know on Isla del Sol.
With an early start the following morning, we'd finally begun the process of what we'd been anticipating for so long. The plan was to meet at the office at 9am, then from there go get all our gear fitted, before making our way to the mountain for our first day of the experience. When we arrived at the equipment room I realised that we'd made a wee mistake yesterday by not having a good look at the equipment. Trying on the gear Gareth looked at me and said, "old Alfredo told us that he'd been operating in this agency for fifteen years, I'm pretty sure this gear has also!" I had visions of me wearing this impressive, modern climbers kit, but instead I realised we were going to look more like firemen from a YMCA video clip. The colour scheme consisted of mainly bright yellow, with random patches of blue and red stuck throughout the outfit. I also had these funny looking green mitts, which didn't really look much like pro alpine climbers equipment, they more reminded me of something that gran would make and then give me as a xmas present. After having a wee laugh about it I decided that as long as I reached the summit I didn't really care what I looked like, it would probably just add an extra laugh when looking back on the photos.
Once we had our kit sorted we were ready to head on our way to the mountain. Loading up the gear revealed our form of transport to the mountain, a beaten up station wagon which had broken door handles and no seatbelts. The driver was slightly crazy, he rode the clutch so hard that I'm surprised we even made it to the top of the hill and out of La Paz, let alone all the way to the mountain. He repulsively hit the horn every time he got caught behind someone, and insisted on any chance to overtake, even if it was a blind corner. By now I'd become so accustomed to this kind of behaviour that it was nothing out of the ordinary to me. It's such an accepted approach to driving (with public drivers as well, taxis, buses, you name it!), that the only way to get through the journey without turning into a stressed wreck, is to just trust that somehow, in some way this chaos has some sort of order to it.
After two long hours we'd finally arrived at the base of the mountain, the starting point of our tour. It was immediately upon getting out of the car that I realised the second small mistake we'd made. I thought back to when Alfredo mentioned how much of a great idea it was to camp, but as I looked out it was so cloudy I couldn't see twenty meters in front of me, let alone a spectacular view of the mountain. It also only took an hour before we'd experienced the whole combination of rain, hail, and snow. Once again I tried to lighten up the situation by thinking, "ah well, at least we're going to get a real mountaineering experience." After fighting the wind to put up the tents we were finally ready for our first day of activity, a half hour walk to the glacier to learn how ice climb, and also to how to walk properly using our crampons. Our guide started off by tying us all together and demonstrating the way in which we were going to walk once we get up to the final day of the climb. After that we were shown how you use the crampons effectively to move up and down steep areas. The third part of the day was by far the most fun, an opportunity to have a go at climbing an ice wall. He went through first to show us how it's done, then hooked us up to a rope, gave us an extra ice axe, and we were away. The climb that we were about to face didn't contain any ice climbing, but never the less it was a lot of fun, and a great opportunity to have a go at something I'd never done before.
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| It's fun to say your'e at the Y-M-C-A... |
When we arrived back at the campsite we were eager for a warm drink and something to eat. Our guide informed us that our dinner wouldn't be to far away and he'd have a hot drink ready for us soon. We all huddled up in the cooking tent, attempting to combine our efforts to warm it up a little. When our guide took out the cooking equipment we realised that we had even more equipment which dated back even further than our retro climbing outfits. It was a big hefty thing, about 30cm square. As he dumped it on the ground and filled it up with fuel I thought that maybe due to it's size it mite produce a big of extra heat to warm us up a little. After putting the cap back on he gave it a few good pumps, got out the matches and she was away..... well sort of away, not exactly in the way we were expecting.
There were only about three small flames coming out which produced so little heat that they could barley warm our hands if we wanted. We all looked at the pot which contained about a litre and a half of water, wondering if we were ever actually going to get a cup of tea, let alone dinner. The guide franticly started pumping the stove, trying to make more fuel come out, all to no avail. He seemed adamant that he could fix the problem, concluding that the holes for the fuel were blocked, so one by one he jabbed this thing, poking it from all directions until he thought he'd fixed it. Most of the time he would light it again, only to find that the flame was exactly the same. After well over an hour of trial an error he finally managed to fix the problem, by then the water had finally boiled anyway. The funniest thing was that during that time there was a refugio about thirty meters from our site, which we could have made use of, doing to same process in about fifteen minutes.
I was hoping that I'd wake up for day two and the clouds would be all cleared away, leaving a perfect view of the mountain, but it was anything but that. The cloud had remained and to make the morning start even better, I realised that I'd forgotten to put away my gloves the previous night, leaving them covered in ice, as was my jacket. The climb today was only very brief so it wasn't to much of an issue, I just decided not to use the gear, then hopefully dry it out in time for the big climb the following day. We only had about a two and a half hour climb, but it was made very difficult by the altitude, and also the fact that we had to carry all our gear with us. As we crawled up at a snails pace, having a break every fifteen minutes, I realised that the climb tomorrow was going to be more of a mental challenge than a fitness challenge, but at the same time I was enjoy pushing myself in this way. After one last painstaking effort we were at the high camp, the base from which we were to make the summit climb. It was a nice relief after the first night to be staying in some warmer accommodation, and also to have some reliable cooking equipment. The rest of the day involved a lot of rest and restoration, and also filling our body with valuable energy and carbohydrates for the big climb at 2am. We were informed before the climb that loosing appetite is a normal symptom of altitude sickness, and that it's important to try and push through it and get food down anyway. I didn't feel any loss what so ever, mine actually increased, so I welcomed the starch overload which came our way.
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| The refugio at the high camp |
As the day grew old, our excitement continued to build. The cabin had filled up with people, everyone getting ready for the climb in the early hours of the morning. After an early dinner we were given a brief from the guide. He said that we should get up at 1.30am and be ready to set off on the climb at 2am, carrying only chocolate, our camera, and the minimal fluids that we mite need. We prepared everything before we went to bed so all we had to do was get up, put on the gear, then leave. Because of the early start everyone was in bed by 7.30. I didn't really get any sleep, the whole time my body just felt like it wanted to jump out of bed and get into it, time seemed to pass by painfully slowly, but eventually the time came were the headlamps were out, and the cabin had become a hive of activity with everyone doing their final preparations before the big climb.
I sat there lacing up my boots, trying to prepare myself mentally for the epic climb. I'd been looking forward to this experience for so long now that it seemed surreal that I was about to attempt it. It didn't take us long to get all our gear set up. Because there were so many climbers, we'd all been given our time of departure. We were due to be one of the final groups to leave, but that didn't bother me to much, I was more than happy to take my time during the climb. As I looked around the final moments before we left I noticed that our guide was a lot more quiet that usual, and he was still the one guide between the three of us. Alfredo had sent another guide up like he promised, but he also sent up two more climbers, they were hard to miss in their alpine clown suits. I didn't think much of it, I figured that maybe our guide was competent enough to take the three of us the whole way.
When we stood outside I realised that we'd been blessed with the most perfect conditions that we could have possibly asked for. The cloud had completely cleared during the night, leaving a blazing view of the stars, the air was completely still, I realised that when the sun comes up that we truly were going to get to see the million dollar view. As the guide helped me fit my crampons I asked him how long he thought we mite take to get to the summit. He looked at me, hesitating slightly with his words, then he said to me, "we are only going as far camp argentina, we can't climb the whole way to the summit." He was speaking in Spanish and I didn't quite know what he meant, Gareth seemed to get the message loud and clear, saying back to him, "what, do you mean? that we won't be climbing all the way to the summit today?" The guide looked slightly flustered and said, "no, we can't because it's just to dangerous. I can't take all three of you all the way to the summit, we can only go as far as camp Argentina. From there we will stop, before having to return back."
All three of us looked at each other, completely guttered about what we'd just heard. Never in my life have I felt like i'd been so cheated, so robbed of such an opportunity, it was defiantly the most bitter tasting pill that I've ever had to swallow. I almost didn't even feel like walking any further, but I decided I mite as make the most of what little opportunity that we actually did have. Camp Argentina was only about an hour from the refugio. It was a flat point from which most people turn back when they get affected by the altitude. We arrived there, unaffected by the altitude, desperately eager to carry on to the summit. We sat there and watched climbers slowly overtake us, trying not to get consumed by jealousy. It was a nice view of the lights of La Paz, but at that time it really was difficult to see any positive in the situation. After about half an hour we started getting to cold to remain there so we were forced to make our way back to the refugio.
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| Three guttered faces at the final point of our "climb." From the left: Julius, Gareth, Me |
At about 3.30am we were back where we started, still trying to come to terms with our spectacular failure. The only option was to go to bed and get some temporary relief by falling asleep. When we awoke we at least got to have some enjoyment out of the morning view from the refugio. Throughout the three days the whole scenery had been covered in cloud, so now it felt like a whole new world had been revealed to us. I tried my best to really take it in, but my perspective was still very much tainted by what we'd just experienced. All that we were really concerned about now was getting back to La Paz so that we could make a wee visit to the office of our good old mate. We made our way down the mountain, then waited two hours for our ride, then finally we were on our way back to sort out some unfinished business. I was adamant that I would try and push a full refund out of him, but I was also aware that I was in Bolivia, a place were there a no forms of complaint authorities what so ever, leaving the negotiating power very much with the agencies in these situations. What ever happened, we were dam sure we would give it a good fight.
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| The morning view from the refugio |
As soon as we arrived in La Paz Gareth and I went straight to the office and had a conversation that went more or less like this: (Some of the following language may offend!)
Walking into the office and sitting down and Alfredo is speaking on the phone, he see us and hangs of the phone saying
Alfredo: "Hey guys how are you feeling, are you tired?"
Gareth: "No actually we're not that tired at all"
He noticed the response and our body language, immediately realising that we hadn't come to the office to give him a positive testimony.
Alfredo: "Ok tell me what happened"
Me: "We set off on the climb this morning, only to find that our guide was incapable of taking three of us to the summit, you never sent another guide for our group, so therefore we were never given an opportunity to go the whole way"
This is the point where he turned from the nice charming guy we'd originally met, into crazy irrational nutcase. The dynamic of the conversation changed significantly.
Alfredo: "That's fucking bullshit!, it's not a dangerous mountain, the guide should have taken you the whole way, there is no reason that he should have turned around."
Letting out random spanish phrases and pulling his hair out he starts stressing out even more
Gareth: "Well whether it's the guides fault or not isn't really our problem, you promised us an opportunity to climb to the summit of this mountain and we weren't given that opportunity, therefore we are holding you responsible for this."
Alfredo: "No, no I didn't promise you that you would reach the top at all, I promised a three day tour and that is what you got."
I couldn't believe his completely irrational opinion so I let out a slightly reactive response
Me: "Now that is fucking bullshit!"
This seemed to be the fuel on his fire, setting him off onto a fit of rage
Alfredo: "Who the fuck are you calling bullshit? I provide you with a service, then you come in here and say its fucking bullshit? who the fuck do you think you are? I've been running this agency for 15 years, and you're coming in here and saying this fucking shit to me."
Now he abruptly stands up and slowly reaches into his draw and pulls out a can of pepper spray
Gareth: "Well you clearly stated during your brief that during the third day we would make our way up to the summit. It wasn't due to our own faults that we couldn't go, therefore you must be held responsible."
Alfredo: "Well that guide was fucking useless, he should have taken all three of you up there, I don't know why he was saying this bullshit about being to dangerous."
He was at this point continuing to get more and more pissed off. I realised that we weren't going to get any money back off him if it carried on like this, so I made an attempt to bring to situation down to a civilised conversation.
Me: "Ok well lets just chill here and try and talk about this, I understand that you don't feel responsible for this, but you need to understand that we can't hold anyone else responsible here but you. We had been looking forward to climbing this mountain for a long time, and to be not have been given the opportunity was very gutting for us."
Alfredo: "Ok well I'm going to call the guide and tell him to come here. If you return in half an hour we will resolve what has happened here."
We returned and had a much more productive conversation. He had cooled off a lot when we came back and fortunately for us he had a much more diplomatic view on things. We quickly realised earlier on that a full refund would be out of the question so we tried to get a third of our money back but in the end had to settle on a wee bit less, but at least we got something. As I walked out of the office I decided to just let it go and accept that fact that Huayna Potosi will have to remain the one that got away on me. Everyone has their travel story on how they were robbed of something of cheated of something, and I guess I have mine now as well.
