Bolivia

Saturday 3rd December 2016 – Hot chocolate at breakfast got us motivated for the day plus Aaron was starting to feel a little better so we popped over the road and bought tickets for a 10.30am tour of the National Mint House Museum (Casa de la Moneda). Most of the tours are in Spanish but we were promised an English speaking guide so left happy and ready to possibly book a trip into the silver mine for the afternoon…Cerro Rico (Rich Mountain)…possibly the richest mountain in the world. Silver was first found there in 1545 and ever since it has been mined for its riches. It is famous for providing vast quantities of silver for the Spanish during the period of the New World Spanish Empire. It caused the city of Potosi to become one of the largest cities in this new world. The silver was taken by Llama and mule train to the Pacific Coast, shipped north to Panama City, carried by mule train across the isthmus of Panama to Portobelo then taken to Spain on the Spanish treasure fleets. After 1800, the silver mines were depleted making tin the main product. The mountain continues today to be mined for silver, copper, zinc and tin…known to the locals as the mountain that eats men because of the large numbers of workers who have died in the mines. It is estimated that around 6 million indigenous people have lost their lives in the Cerro Rico since the 16th Century…a shocking statistic. About 15% of the Potosi male population still work in mining; thousands more are involved in transporting, smelting, sorting and trading minerals. Those miners who survive the cave-ins, explosions and poisonous gases often die of lung disease years after they leave the mine behind…a sobering thought. I was undecided whether to take this trip as it came with many dangers. Aaron was still not feeling 100%…I was definitely starting to err on the side of caution so close to the end of our trip. Returning to the museum for our tour we were informed the English speaking guide had not appeared…annoyed and disappointed we proceeded to get a refund and cheered ourselves up with chocolate cake and hot steaming tea. Later on we dined at 4060 Cafe, named after the height of the city of Potosi, standing at 4060 metres high!

Sunday 4th December 2016 – Aaron had taken a turn for the worse in the night so decided to convalesce in our room. I was determined to make something of Potosi so returned to the National Mint House, bought a ticket and hoped I would understand some of the Spanish explanations on the tour. No one was more surprised than me when I was flagged through to a small group and the AWOL English speaking guide…result! Heralded as Bolivia’s best museum the Casa de la Moneda offers visitors a fascinating look back at a time when Potosi was the centre of the Spanish Empire’s wealth. The building was the Royal Mint, pressing silver extracted from the Cerro Rico into coins and medallions. My tour began with a collection of colonial era paintings…often the Virgin Mary depicted as the mountain itself…equating the land with the Virgin. Next was a gleaming room displaying an impressive collection of minerals from Bolivia. In another room some of the country’s original coins or ‘macquina’ shine into your eyes…this was the first ever global currency…the dollar adopting the ‘S’ and ‘I’ intertwined as the new global currency of the world…it all started in Potosi. Most fascinating for me was the original machinery used to press out ingots of silver into sheets, then cut them into coins. Huge wooden wheels, rotated by mules and workers occupied this room. Many died here…the mules worked to death…all to line the pockets of the Spanish. As I left, the grinning mask of Bacchus, which hangs in the main courtyard, looked down at me. Ironically it is said to be directed at the Spanish as they departed from Bolivia…the guide hinting that the mask covers the Spanish Coat of Arms beneath.

Monday 5th December 2016 – At 10am we arrived at Terminal de Buses and booked an overnight bus to Santa Cruz. It was due to leave at 2pm so we filled our time in a cafe until departure. Our seats were on the top deck of the coach at the front…with a great view…however it only took 30 minutes to realise that this was going to be a roller coaster ride! The driver had no qualms about continuously overtaking lorries on terrifying mountainous roads…blind corners were nothing to him…my toes curled up and I whimpered as he drove on. Diggers were everywhere along the route as they removed the rubble from falling cliffs…I just prayed that we all got to our destination safely. After another close encounter round a bend, Aaron went to talk to the driver and his right hand man. On returning he informed me he had given some money for a safer passage and would give more if we got there in one piece. It was 17 hours of the scariest bus ride ever…I tried to close my eyes to block it all out only for a nightmare child sitting behind me to incessantly kick the back of my chair, climb on my headrest and scream intermittently! It was going to be a long, long night!

Tuesday 6th December 2016 – At 7am we finally drove into Santa Cruz…I couldn’t wait to get off the bus onto safe land once again. After a little research we bought tickets for a 10.30am bus to the border crossing at Puerto Quijarro…from there we would be able to pass into Brazil. We arrived in darkness…both tired and hungry. Checking into the best of a bad bunch of hotels on the Bolivian side of the border…Oasis Hotel (it was no haven I can tell you that) we went for food…me having a mini meltdown due to the accumulated stress of the last few days. Aaron knew the cure…two chocolate ice creams later I was a little calmer and ready to get a good nights sleep in our grimy, dusty, dark room.