I don´t know if it´s hard to believe but it seems every place in Bolivia i get to is distinct from the last place i was. The drive from Uyuni to Tupiza was a treat. After being bullshitted about the type of bus etc, we start the long dusty road, grannies and kiddies in the aisles as usual always with more hoarded on their back than seems possible to carry. The road, blind bends, winding cliff faces and bumpy.
Tupiza is a smallish town which has a bit of a gringo trail running through it, more than anything probably because it´s close to the boarder with Argentina. But Marlene, the animal lover that she is, enticed me to go horse ridding. Having nothing better to do myself, i went. Our horses had been brought to a corner of a street where we gleefully waited for our guide who was late. Finally a young boy, 10, to explain that the guide had some horse problems and that he´d take us. I huffed and puff at the beginning and said under no circumstances would i go with a child, let alone on the arse end of my horse. I looked at Marlene who shrugged, having no problem with any of this, and next thing i conformed and found myself riding away. Later i had seen that a few other folks that were riding around there that day had also teenage guides, but i must say, ours was the youngest. But no hick-ups really, but i hobbled along, thinking of cowgirls but not quite feeling like one. Yes i was sore the next day...
Tupiza is a smallish town which has a bit of a gringo trail running through it, more than anything probably because it´s close to the boarder with Argentina. But Marlene, the animal lover that she is, enticed me to go horse ridding. Having nothing better to do myself, i went. Our horses had been brought to a corner of a street where we gleefully waited for our guide who was late. Finally a young boy, 10, to explain that the guide had some horse problems and that he´d take us. I huffed and puff at the beginning and said under no circumstances would i go with a child, let alone on the arse end of my horse. I looked at Marlene who shrugged, having no problem with any of this, and next thing i conformed and found myself riding away. Later i had seen that a few other folks that were riding around there that day had also teenage guides, but i must say, ours was the youngest. But no hick-ups really, but i hobbled along, thinking of cowgirls but not quite feeling like one. Yes i was sore the next day...
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