Tupiza by Horse

(Complete Picture Set)

Red rock canyons, sleepy little villages, and proximity to the last showdown of Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid contribute to the Wild West atmosphere of Tupiza and its surrounding hills. Actually, it is more like the wild south, but that doesn’t sound as cool. So what better way to celebrate this setting than with a two day trip on the back of horses to explore the surrounding area? I went with an Israeli I met in my hostel, Eyal, and we were guided by our Bolivian guide, Jose. His family has been a part of Tupiza as far back as the family history goes, and it was similar in the

(Top - Ridin'; Lft - My travel mate Eyal)

smaller villages we visited along the way. I can’t really even imagine that with how much we move around in the States, and anyone who isn’t indigenous to the States can only trace their roots back to a maximum of 300 years, give or take, depending on when their family immigrated. To be there “since the beginning” is pretty impressive.

Two Germans with their 11 year old guide tagged along with us for the day, but they were only doing the 7 hour trip (only, ha! That is the trip I should of done, and I still would have had a broken body), so they left after lunch, which was fruit, egg sandwiches, and llama tamales. Yup, check llama off the things to eat before I die list. Anyway, after the two days, my butt was swollen and bruised and my back aching and stiff. It was worth the pain though, as horse riding is definitely an amazing experience. Our horses were big, strong, and well cared for, and we

(Top - Action Photo; Rgt - Pee Break)

had a great time galloping, sometimes racing, and even shouting like cowboys during the trip. The bright mountain scenery was stunning and the Bolivian altiplano (“high plane,” just the name of this region in Bolivia) culture was intriguing. Having become accustomed to the different yet still occidental culture and influence in Argentina, Chile, Uruguay, etc., the stark contrast I found upon entering Bolivia was a much welcomed change.

We spent the night in a simple mountain village of maybe 30 people, in a “guest house” of a local family, where they cooked dinner for us while we rested our aching bodies. Outside chickens roamed around and grass-chewing, funny looking goats looked inquisitively at you as they gnawed on their greens. A simple, humble life these people lived, with wandering gringos probably their only real contact to the outside world, although they seemed unconcerned about it as they

(Top - Our goat friend; Rgt - El Torre; Btm - Simple mountain dwelling)

didn’t talk to us really at all. Not out of disrespect I don’t think, but perhaps just indifference about the world from which these wandering gringo travelers come from. They were here before we came, they would be there after. We were just a couple of strangers from another world, out of hundreds every year, which were just passing through. Upon getting back to Tupiza, Eyal and I finalized our plans to go on the four day salt flat tour to Uyuni beginning the next day, ate dinner, and crawled back to our hostel. We couldn’t move, sit, stand, or breathe without grunting with effort or gasping in pain. In some grade school history class I remember reading about cowboys breaking horses, taming their wild habits so they could be rode and used for work. However, this time around, it was I that came home broken. I hit the pillow on my bed at 9:00 and passed out for the next 11 hours.

(Complete Picture Set)