Bolivia wrap-up

Coming soon!

Bolivia wrap-up

Coming soon!

Monday, June 27

Passport day. I just killed time, packing my bag, waiting for 4pm when I could pick up my passport with its new visa from Immigration. Of course, I ran into KK at the office, but no passport was to be found. It wasn’t ready yet. We had to come back tomorrow.

No mas. Spanish streamed from the deepest recesses of my being as if I hadn’t wasted 9 years of my life studying French. No, I could not come back tomorrow! My flight was first thing in the morning! Between KK being composed (she spoke much better than I did) and me starting to fly off the handle, we were escorted into the office of the Director. Our files miraculously appeared on his desk. Some simple questions and all seemed resolved. So, we took our seat.

And we sat.

And then we sat.

And then, just for fun, just to shake things up a bit, we sat some more.

Behind us, a teenager has just come from the US embassy because her passport was lost. She was part of a church group. They were returning to the United States on a red-eye flight that night. She needed a new visa, ASAP.

One problem: they crossed into Bolivia illegally. The border between Bolivia and Argentina is porous. Thus, not only did she not have a copy of the green entry form (damn that pesky green entry form!), there was no record of her ever being in the country. This is bad news. Unless you are a journalist/spy on secret assignment, crossing into a country this way is stupid. If they don’t know how you got there, as a rule, they won’t let you out. The irony of a church group breaking the basic immigration laws of Bolivia was not lost on either of us, and it was only heightened by the fact that this was a white church group from Mississippi. This is a demographic that would overwhelming support strict immigration controls in “illegal immigrants” in the United States.

Well, we wait. It is 6 o’clock. Employees are leaving their offices. Army officers are lowering gates and locking doors. They glare and tell us we have to leave. We do not. And we will not until they hand us our passports. And if they don’t like it, go find the director. Eventually, this is exactly what happens. He comes out of the office surprised to see us. I am not sure whether this is a show, but it seemed like even he was embarrassed by his country’s performance on this one. Two minutes later, we had passports.

Invigorated by this triumph, its time for dinner at El Tambo. It is night in La Paz. It is frenetic with corn horns and break lights and thin air and everything that makes it such a wonderful city. 

Sunday, June 26

I want to die. Honestly, this is painful and degrading. I have to sneak around the hostel finding unoccupied bathrooms. If you’ve never had Giardia, you cannot understand this experience unless you’ve have something worse like IBS or Crohn’s, which I assume are just Giardia for life. Also, I itch everywhere. And, I can’t hear.

It is Sunday, but I am determined to find an open pharmacy to get an antihistamine to block the allergic reaction to the milk. I stumble from the hostel. I am weak and woozy, but it is bright, sunny and blue. I walk and feel weak. I walk more and I feel dizzy. I find an open pharmacy, but my pronunciation of antihistamine is not working. I explain that I have las ronchas. He asks how. I don’t know how to say unpasteurized milk, so I try, Tome la leche, desde la vaca al vaso (literally, I drank milk, from the cow to the glass). His eyes lit up with that you-stupid-gringo brightness to which one quickly becomes accustomed, “Ahh, anti-HEE-sti-MEE-na.” He gave me something and I started my walk back.

I don’t think I made it more than a block when I stopped and leaned into a window sill. I don’t think I made it more than 3 seconds before I lurched forward, landing face-first on the pavement. I suppose most of the Pacenos doing their Sunday afternoon errands thought I was just another gringo borracho, but it was enough of a spectacle for at least one couple to stop and ask if I was ok. I told the gentleman I was not, that I felt very ill. He asked if I wanted water. I said yes. He returned with a bottle. When I rummaged for coins, he would not accept. There wasn’t much else he could do while I recovered from fainting, so I thanked him politely and explained that I just needed to sit for a while. (note: I think this happened in Spanish. Go me!)

Soon after, another couple stopped, but they spoke English. In fact, they weren’t locals. They were Israelis staying at the same hostel and recognized me. I recounted the description of my fainting spell and the gentlemen asked whether I wanted some chocolate. This was a genius idea and he ran off to a tienda. He also refused payment.

This entire time, I am fully cognizant of two things. First, I need to get back to my bed to recover. Second, I probably would not make it without fainting again. When the man returned with the chocolate, I ate a piece and asked them for help getting back to my room. I felt fine enough to walk if they wouldn’t mind accompanying me. They gladly agreed and all was quickly returned to normal…after I purchased 2 snickers bar at reception.

Saturday, June 25

No, fuck me. Those weren’t chiggers. I woke up in the middle of the night clawing at my armpits. Those were no insect bites. I had hives everywhere except my face.

Why do I do such stupid things? I was smart enough to ask whether the milk was pasteurized, but not smart enough not to drink it. I had a milk allergy as a child and this crossed my mind when I was offered the milkshake. But, I have not been allergic to milk for nearly 30 years. Well, it turns out I have not been allergic to pasteurized and homogenized milk for nearly 30 years. The natural stuff—not so much.

Also, my ear is clogged. Terribly clogged. I think it happened on the bus ride down because I wore headphones going from La Cumbre to Chulumani. More stupidity. Well, whatever it is, I can’t really hear from my left ear.

So, to summarize, I am leaking from the back end. I am covered in hives. I can’t hear. If I typed this into Google, would leprosy come up?

I still hiked around the grounds for a little bit in the morning, finally getting a picture of Blue-and white swallow and a better picture of Red-billed Parrot. Along with the ubiquitous Marble-faced Bristle-tyrant, I also found a female Antshrike.

While I was stomping about, a man was supposed to be purchasing my ticket and returning to the lodge to pick up for the bus ride back to La Paz. He was late. Very late and it was looking like I would miss my bus. In fact, he was still in town. The lodge quickly called a car to pick me up. The driver attempted to make time by sliding through every corner and switchback on the dirt road to town. I would have preferred to miss my bus, frankly. But, I made it because the guy charged with buying the ticket basically stood in front of the bus to prevent them from leaving without me. 

Friday, June 24

A breakfast of French toast was ready at 6:15am and I was birding by 7. I walked the road towards Apa-Apa Reserve, casually birding along the way. I was told the walk would be 45 minutes, but as with all birding, it probably took closer to 2 hours. The road netted Crested and Dusky-green Oropendola, Purplish Jay and Sparkling Violetear. Reaching the trail just after a wooden sign post, this section was mostly open, yielding Streak-throated Flycatcher, Blue-capped Tanager, Slate-throated Whitestart, Strong-billed Woodcreeper, and Marble-faced Bristle Tyrant. Moving into the forest proper produced Yungas Manakin, Grass-green Tanager, Bolivian Brush-Finch (previously conspecific with Rufous-naped Brush-Finch), Cinnamon Flycatcher, Three-striped Warbler, Tropical Parula and Azara's Spinetail.

The trail descended into the valley, eventually crossing the river. This was just an amazingly beautiful spot, which if dry and mosquito-free, I would have gladly sat and enjoyed for hours. As it was, I found a Spotted Barbtail. The walk back yielded many of the same species, but a Short-tailed Hawk passed overhead and a flock of Plumbeous Pigeon filled the tops of one tree.

Taking my boots and socks off, I noticed little red bumps along my ankles. Chiggers, I thought. I had heard they lived in the high grass that you tramp through in spots along the trail. I know there are chiggers in Texas who will bury into your skin, usually in areas that are dark, wet and pressed by clothing. I had largely avoided their nuisance back home, but seemed to be striking both along my sock lines and around my waist. I was given some rubbing alcohol to put on the bites

Dinner was marred by an obnoxious Canadian who showed up with two bird guides (actually people, not books). At one point he may have been an independent traveler who generally roughed it. Now, he is a douche. He asked, “Don’t you find that the 300mm just isn’t enough sometimes. I feel like it just isn’t enough. My 600mm is really what brings me close to the birds.” For those not aware, his 600mm lens costs in the neighborhood of $8000. Fuck him. Also, he spoke no Spanish and seemed to revel in that ignorance. Fuck him again.

Bird Tally: 12 new, 12 lifers

Thursday, June 23

I woke up early to finishing packing my bags and grab breakfast before heading up to Villa Fatima for the bus to Chulamani (Bs20). Again, I will neither bike nor drive the Death Road while here, but the South Yungas Road is its cousin. It took an hour just to get out of La Paz for reasons I do not quite understand. We finally finished getting gas and the remaining ride to the turnoff was uneventful. There was no traffic in the opposite direction, so the narrow descent with its hairpin turns, switchbacks and and blind corners seemed far from treacherous. Then we hit a road block for construction. Busses, trucks and cars were stalled for half-an-hour, generating an accordion of traffic once the way reopened. Our driver was particularly eager to save himself three minutes of travel, honking incessantly at any bus or truck that he managed to catch until they let him pass at full speed. By now, traffic was also coming from Chulamani, but the road was not wide enough for two vehicles. Downhill apparently has right-of-way. In addition to the amazing scenery and typical Bolivian shenanigans, the most lasting impression of the ride was the dachshund-basset mix that found his was under my seat and eventually into my lap. This scene is memorialized on several Bolivan cameras.

Arriving in the main square of Chulamani just after 2pm, I located a phone center to call the Portugal Hacienda to see if there was space. I was told to head on up and lunch would be waiting. Even the cab ride (Bs25) was not without issue as there was road construction blocking the road to the Hacienda, leaving me to walk the last half mile.

The hacienda is a full menagerie with Green-and-blue and Green-and-red Macaws, something that looks like a javelina, a giant terrapin, cows, chickens and a Great Dane roughly the size of my Pontiac Vibe.

I ate a very late lunch, settled my bags into the small room I would call home for two nights and strolled around the grounds and surrounding roads. This little stroll netted Bananaquit, Crested Oropendola, Sayaca Tanager, Palm Tanager, Olivaceous Siskin, White-tipped Dove, Purplish Jay, Yellow-olive Flatbill, and Green-and-Olive Woodpecker.

Dinner was simple, but tasty: a red pepper stuffed with rice and ground beef. I also had my first glass of unpasteurized milk blended with strawberries.

Bird tally: 3 new, 2 lifers

Tuesday, June 21

I was up and out for a cab to take me to Villa Fatima (Bs15) at 6:35. Busses into the yungas leave from Villa Fatima in the north of La Paz, not the main station in the central district. I wanted to catch an early trufi, but ended up waiting for the van to fill up anyway. We did not actually leave the corner until after 7:30. The ride up and over La Cumbre was spectacular and I was dropped off at the junction of the old and new roads to Coroico by 8:20. This was slightly further than I needed, but walking the start of the “death road” provided amazing views of both snow-capped Andean peaks and the cloud forest in the valley below.

This section of the road, along with the new road just before the junction was also very productive with Violet-throated Starfrontlet, Fulvous-headed Brush-Finch, Bar-winged Cinclodes, Amethyst-throated Sunangel, Azara's Spinetail, Hooded Mountain Tanager, Masked Flowerpiercer and Superciliaried Hemispingus. About this time, a steady rain started to develop, which required some reorganizing of gear. I found a drain-pipe under the highway that served the trick. Showers continued off-and-on for the next hour, but did not greatly affect birding as I found a Rufous-breasted Chat-Tyrant.

The walk downhill back to Cotapata was easy with a decent-sized shoulder, deep cement ditches and numerous turnouts with trails that led into the valley. I stumbled down a stone path on the right side of the road that led to someplace I was not supposed to be. I apologized to the gentleman and beat a hasty retreat back to the road. The second sighting of a Rufous-breasted Chat Tyrant was not worth the trip. As I continued walking, I spotted Brown-backed Chat-Tyrant, Crimson-mantled Woodpecker

Passing the gas station on my right, I followed a path around the bathroom building. A wide path lead through a fence to land which appeared to belong to the station. Just to the left of this, a two track path lead upward through forest. I followed this path, guessing it was the one mentioned in my notes. After a short distance, the path forked and I took the left as a flock of Hooded Mountain Tanager seemed to auger well. As the path began to descend into the valley, mixed flocks would flutter through groups of trees. In one, I found a Scarlet-bellied Mountain Tanager, Blue-and-black Mountain Tanager, Spectacled Whitestart, Rufous-capped Thornbill, Orange-browed Hemispingus, and Giant Thrush. On the hike out, I also spotted a Moustached Flowerpiercer.

I reached the gas station near 1:30 and the while the sun was not out, it was fighting its way through the dense clouds. Unfortunately, this did not last long. First, fog rolled over the road, greatly decreasing the chances that someone would see me. Then, it started to rain. Then, it started to rain harder. The thick fog made it impossibly dangerous to try the 9km walk to the trancha at Undavai. As I got progressively wetter, it seemed that my chances for a ride were becoming progressively worse. After more than an hour, I was just too wet to stand in the open, so I ducked for cover next to the gas station. As I waited out the rain, a girl brought me a cup of hot coffee to warm me up. Then a gentlemen suggested I try the other end of the gas station. The coffee lifted my spirits and the suggestion paid-off in a couple of minutes as a jeep with two men stopped to offer a ride.

I will not bike the death road on this trip, but absent a ride through the Columbian Andes with Camila's brothers, this was as death-defying as I'd like to go on 4 wheels. Nevertheless, when the two guys saw how wet and cold I was, they pulled over to find a blanket for me from the back of the jeep. It was only after 15 minutes that I realized that the driver had only one finger on his left hand and his right hand was almost never on the wheel. As we flew around corners on wet asphalt through soupy fog around slower moving traffic, I have never desired a stronger finger in my life.

We reached La Cumbre to find a celebration of the Aymara New Year, which coincides with the shortest day of the year (admittedly, this is the 23^rd of June, but who can keep track). There was a band of drummers and people were dancing in large groups. By now, I was mostly dry and enjoyed the festivities as a man encouraged me to do a little jig. Of course, I complied. They drove me all the way to Murillo Plaza, only a short walk from the Hostel. In the end, I had forgotten the soggy misery of waiting for a ride.

Bird tally: 17 new, 17 lifers 

Monday, June 20

First things first: new passport. I went down to the US embassy, which is in a beautiful neighborhood in south La Paz, first thing in the morning to get a document that would prove I had a US passport in the first place, so I could then file a police report, which I could then return to the embassy to file the documentation for a lost passport. At least this is what the tourist police told me I had to do. This was looking like an all day affair, best case scenario.

Upon reaching the embassy, I was told tourist police often make stuff like that up. There is no such proof of citizenship document. After a background check, I was invited into the embassy and started the paperwork for a new passport. I met a young backpacker, KK, who had her purse stolen at a bar. Her passport was in her purse. I am not the only person who does silly things, though looking for solace in the behavior of 20 year olds is not reassuring at this point in my life. After scraping together most of my remaining funds, I paid for the new passport and strolled through the city again, because that was really all I could afford to do until a new credit card arrived. 

Sunday, June 19

No passport. No credit cards. No debit cards. Only the money I had stashed at the hostel. These are days best spent just walking around and seeing the city.

Saturday, June 18

Today was one of the celebration of El Gran Poder through the streets of La Paz. To the best of my knowledge, this is a religious festival where different clubs throughout the city each participate in a large parade. Some men dress in brightly colored costumes, wearing masks and carrying noise-makers of various sorts. Other clubs have brass bands or a collection of percussion instruments. Some clubs include beautiful young women wearing hardly any clothing who dance and flirt; others include older women in traditional Andean outfits who dance and look stern. And everyone is shit-canned. Everyone. Every time the music stops, men with bottles of rum fill up empty cups (for a price) and women with cans of beer fill empty hands. Pacenos start at 8 in the morning and go all day and then through the night.

There is so much energy and color and music. Of course tourists like me come out of our hotels and hostels to see the pageantry, but it is a festival for the citizens of La Paz, rich and poor alike. We are simply absorbed into the crowd of revelers like so many grains of sand on the beach.

Unfortunately, two grains of sand stole my fucking wallet and passport. I walked over the hotel where BK were staying, fighting the crowds, weaving into and out of the parade route. Partly the joy of feeling that the medication I took yesterday had finally cured me and partly the joy of the occasion dulled my senses.

I had too much to carry, too big a camera, too big a bottle of water. Too big a sign reading, “Steal my stuff.” I could have—should have—asked Ben to drop my wallet and passport and 300mm lens in his hotel room. Could have, but didn’t. So, a small man pretending to be drunk sauntered up in front of me and started backing into me. My right arm went down to protect the lens. My left arm went out to jam him in the back. A third arm would have covered my pocket, but alas, I left my third arm in the hostel—incidentally, another place I could have left my passport and wallet. Instead, my pocket was picked by an accomplice. In the seconds it took to happen, they disappeared into the crowds and through the labyrinth of alleys. I walked the parade route hoping to see the one who bumped into me. I walked the back alleys hoping they would have just taken the money from my wallet, but tossed the passport. No luck.

It is important to make something clear. Although being robbed is a terrible feeling and having to replace a passport is bothersome, this is not a moment that would ruin my trip or change my perception of Bolivians as warm and welcoming people. Shit happens and it largely could have been prevented on my part by acting smarter. Oh well. 

Friday, June 17

Over dinner, BK and I decided that we would hike La Cumbre the following day. Given my horrific night of chills, sweats, aches and runs, I really doubted that I would be able to make it. Nevertheless, I convinced myself that my brain was stronger than my large intestine. I willed myself out of bed at 7:45, quickly got my things together and forced down some pancakes despite the general nausea whenever I put anything in my mouth. BK arrived at 8:30 and we were on our way via taxi (Bs80).

La Cumbre is a beautiful area in which to hike. There are accessible lakes and bogs assuming you have the lungs and will to walk uphill at 4800 meters (15,000'). BK were both in much better conditioning for this type of hike and I often lagged far behind, reminding myself of the time when I ran up Mt. Saint Helens and Mt. Ranier. Of course, neither were at nearly the same height, this by far the highest I had ever been outside an airplane.

Laguna, La Cumbre, Bolivia

This has to easily be one of the most beautiful and inspiring places I have birded. It is quite obvious that you are hiking in an unique environment. While the number of species is fairly small, it is impressive that so much lives in such a barren, yet beautiful setting.

The first two lagunas offered Andean gull, Giant Coot, White-winged Diuca Finch, White-winged Cinclodes, Crested Duck, Andean Goose, Andean Swallow and Silvery Grebe. Following the jeep track around the back side of the laguna toward the crest of the mountain behind it, I located a pair of Rufous-bellied Seedsnipes. The bogs at the back end of the second laguna yielded Puna Ground-Tyrant. Waiting for a bus to take us back to La Paz, I spotted a Red Shoveler, Cinereous Ground-Tyrant, and Spectacled Teal.

White-winged Duica Finch

Rufous-bellied Seedsnipe

Andean Goose

The wait for a ride was much shorter than in Miguelito, as a bus to La Paz stopped to let us on. There were more passengers than seats, but the problem was made infinitely worse by two women who sat at the top step. Despite acres of space in the aisle to stand, they clogged up the works, leaving the three of us to perch on whatever chunk of space we could manage in the stairway. An uncomfortable ride eventually brought us to El Alto, where we took a taxi to the terminal.

At this point, all I wanted was a siesta. My body hurt and I was starting to feel ill. But, BK are both doctors and had been researching my illness in their spare time. They offered to take me to a pharmacy to see if a different medication from the one prescribed back in the States would do the trick. While I was exhausted and grumpy, I knew this option was better in the long run. The amazing thing about Bolivian pharmacies is: you don't need a prescription. We just sauntered in, asked for Titidazol and the pharmacist handed it to us. And I was able to buy hospital strength Ibuprofen on the spot. All this for less than $7. Just holding the boxes of medicine had a palliative effect and I readily agreed to lunch at Subway. The ibuprofen has already taken care of the headache and joint/muscle pain. Lets hope the antiprotozoan also has the desired effect.

Bird tally: 10 new, 10 lifers

Thursday, June 16

I woke up and was in a taxi by 7am. There was some confusion about which Mecapaca I wanted, which led the taxi fare to jump from Bs20 to Bs100. I could have caught a trufi from the first Mecapaca, but I have followed the pattern of taxi out, public transport back so as not to lose time in the morning. Arriving in the main square, I continued walking the main road along the hillside, coming across Tufted Tit-Tyrant, Rufous-naped Ground Tyrant, White-winged Black Tyrant, White-tipped Plantcutter, Blue-capped Violetear, Giant Hummingbird and Red-tailed Comet. Turning towards the river, I found Blue-and-white Swallow, Bar-winged Cinclodes, Picui-Ground Dove, Roadside Hawk, Andean Gull, Andean Lapwing, Puna Ibis, Mountain Caracara, and Picazuro Pigeon. 

Andean Lapwing

While I birded through the plots of land neatly arranged in squares along the river plain, the locals went about the daily necessities of rural agriculture: breaking up hardened soil with pick-axes, hacking at reeds to feed the cattle, and communing in small groups for lunch-time tea surrounded by potato plants in full bloom.

Tea break, Mecapaca

Working my way through these potato patches and reedbeds, I saw Common Moorhen and Plumbeous Rail. I explored the area around some abandoned buidlings, finding American Kestrels, White-tailed Plantcutter, Cinereous Ground-Tyrant, Brown-backed Mockingbird, Saffron-billed Saltator, Grey-headed Parakeet, Ash-breasted Sierra Finch and Greenish Yellow Finch. There was scrub and trees to the left of a tin-roofed house, which was the best area of the day, producing Bolivian Earthcreeper in addition to a male White-winged Black Tyrant, Brown-backed Mockingbird, White-tipped Plantcutter, Blue-and-yellow Tanager, and Spot-winged Dove.

Plumbeous Rail

Bolivian Earthcreeper

I enjoyed a bowl of soup at a small restaurant in the main square of Mecapaca, but did not have an appetite for the chicken, potatoes and beans that followed. I swallowed some of each to be polite then caught the trufi (235, Bs4.50) back to La Paz. I met BK for dinner at a French restaurant (La Comedie), but my health quickly deteriorated over the course of the meal. The soup was quite good, the ceviche mediocre and the potato gratin maybe the most disgusting thing I have eating in Bolivia. It was essentially 2 sliced potatoes drenched in 3 sticks of butter. I returned to the hostel with my muscles and joints aching, my stomach churning and my whole body shivering. Truly, one of the most miserable nights I have endured.

Bird tally: 9 new, 9 lifers 

Wednesday, June 15

The ride to La Paz was a spectacular as a night bus could be. The moon was nearly full, illuminating the landscape with a bluish haze that was reflected skyward by the arid Andean mountains. It was as if we were driving on the moon, past deep valleys that were scooped from earth by the hands of giants.

Unfortunately, we arrived sooner than planned, which translates into dark and cold. Both Ben and I had gotten the impression that La Paz was less than safe at night, so we dawdled in the terminal for a bit until the sky started to lighten. I headed off to a hostel I had seen, but when I arrived they said no room was available. I ended up taking a cab back to the bus terminal to try another hostel (Adventure Brew). They had space in an 8 person dorm (Bs60), which was not the intended level of travel for this trip, but I happily accepted it.

I started a conversation with a German woman who agreed to watch my bags (she had also just arrived that morning) while I found something in the city to eat. That was easier said than done, but I did procure some bread rolls and eggs. The hostel closes the kitchen at 8am, however, and we were left with untoasted bread with butter, which nevertheless tasted wonderful at that juncture. At some point, I meandered upstairs with my things and napped on a couch until noon. Waking up, I then stumbled up to the top floor in search of a bathroom, where I discovered a bar with an incredible view of the city and Illumani in the distance. I spent most of the afternoon with my bird guides and laptop catching up on bird notes just enjoying the scene.

Around 3:30, I headed out to explore a bit of the city. Opposed to much of what I had heard, I quite enjoyed the city; it has a vibe and energy that were distinctly lacking in either Santa Cruz and Cochabamba. The city is vaguely European, with narrow cobbled streets. The spires of cathedrals rise to meet the apartment buildings in a battle for the skyline while the residents scuttle along tightrope-wide sidewalks. Of course, it is still Bolivia and so not nearly as polished as the cities of France or Germany or Italy; I was reminded of Budapest.

The street I was walking opened into Plaza San Francisco, where the legislature meets. The square was carpeted with pigeons and people purchased feed from vendors along the edge. A favorite trick was encouraging the pigeons to land on your arms and head. One little girl appeared quite expert in this feat. I believe I also spotted my first House Sparrow of the trip.

Girl with pigeons, La Paz

I returned to the hostel for a beer and to meet BK for dinner. We shared a round of drinks then headed off to El Tambo for supper. Ben ordered beef, while Kristina and I ordered llama, but with different sauces. Absolutely delicious.

Bird tally: 1 new

Tuesday, June 14

The plan was to wake up early and take a trufi to Miguelito on the Chapere Road. I did wake up early. I did get myself out of bed. I did put on pants and a sock. On second thought, I went back to bed. After another 15 or 20 minutes, I re-motivated and was packed and out of the hotel by 7am. I took a cab to the trufi stop, and the driver was the same man as yesterday morning. It took some discussion to decide precisely where Miguelito was, but eventually I got in the minivan and was on my way (Bs35). There are markers at each KM, but these use a different system than those mentioned in my reference notes. The older system only has markers every 10 or 20km. I tried to align the old and new system when we passed KM40 around Corani. After the trancha, the old numbering system is signed more frequently at every 2KM.

I stopped around KM 95 and began to hike along the road. At this time of the morning (9am), the traffic was substantial and with the narrow shoulder, I was not entirely comfortable as oil tankers rumbled past within a foot or two. Nonetheless, the early birding was superb. I quickly spotted a Silver-beaked Tanager, Tropical Kingbird, Giant Cowbird, Dusky-green Oropendola, Saffron-crowned Tanager, Purplish Jay,  Lineated Woodpecker, Blue-capped Puffleg, Red-billed Parrot, Speckled Hummingbird, and Golden-eyed Flowerpiercer. 

Saffron-crowned Tanager (300mm, F5, 1/320, ISO-400)

As I worked up the road looking for a stone path (I found one that lead between two dilapidated houses and did not push further), a mixed flock of tanagers were feeding in the trees. These included: Saffron-crowned Tanager, Blue-winged Mountain Tanager, Bolivian Brushfinch, Chestnut-bellied Mountain-Tanager, and Blue-capped Tanager.

Blue-winged Mountain Tanager (300mm, F5, 1/320, ISO-400)

Continuing toward the Electric Substation trail, I found Blue-banded Toucanet and Inca Jay. Heading down the trail, I was treated with a Giant Cowbird actually perched on a cow.

Giant Cowbird (300mm, F7, 1/500, ISO-400)

As the trail made a sharp left turn, a pipeline from the right hillside crossed under the trail. This area was particularly birdy with Common Bush Tanager, Golden-eyed Flowerpiercer, Montane Foliage Gleaner and Sparkling Violetear. Walking back along the roadside, I spotted a Torrent Tryant on a boulder in a fast-moving stream and a pair of Red-billed Parrots flew overhead. From a turnout just after a rock face is (incorrectly) painted KM94, a female Masked Trogon flew into view and perched for several minutes.

Masked Trogon (300mm, F4, 1/160, ISO-400)

I stopped at the turnout where I was dropped off at 2:45pm and waited for a trufi or bus to Cochabamba. And waited. And waited some more. I sang to myself and used my two empty soda bottles to compose the first verse of a blues song. And then, I waited.

Unlike the morning, the traffic was much lighter in the afternoon and consisted mostly of tankers. When a trufi did pass, they inevitably gave a shake of their hand indicating they were full. This went on for two hours and I had already decided to accept a ride in any direction, so long as I returned to civilization. Eventually, a truck pulled over. The driver picks up empty bottles and drops off fresh cases of beer for the tiendas that line the road. He told me he couldn't take me to Cochabamba, but I asked if he would go as far as the trancha, which his route did, in fact, cover. Once at the trancha, I only waited five mintues for a bus from Santa Cruz to slow through the inspection point. I pointed at the bus driver and then at myself and then in the direction of Cochabamba. The driver nodded and I hauled over to the bus.

When I got in, the driver said I would have to stand as there were no seats. Not understanding the layout of the bus, I pointed towards what I thought was the stairs to the seats on the first level of the bus. The driver indicated that would be fine and I hopped over the passanger-side seat to find myself in the little cubby-hole that the drivers use for sleeping. This was just as good as a seat as far as I was concerned and I made myself comfortable.

Another gentleman eventually sat on the stairs leading up to the top level of the bus. He tried to engage me in conversation, but I understood nothing that he said. This is a strange fact of Spanish in Bolivia—it seems an all or nothing proposition. After much difficulty, I understood that he was asking from where I was coming. I replied with Miguelito, which, of course, he did not recognize. I explained a bit, which only led to the question of why I was there. Talking about Aves only led to another question of what about aves. I was lost until he pretended to take a picture.

This served as a real breakthrough, as I took out my camera and showed him some of the pictures I had taken. If this had been two days before, I would have been sunk, as few of my photos from San Miguel are of high quality. But, the photos of the tanagers and toucanet (tocancito) and woodpecker (carpenterio) were well received. Conversation proceeded with greater ease as I finally had the drift of the discussion to help me out. Even the driver started to chat about how he did not understand any of the English lyrics to his songs, but he liked them nonetheless.

It required almost 5 hours from the time I stopped birding to cover the 90 minute drive from the morning. Thinking that it would be impossible to catch the night bus to La Paz, I started to consider staying in Cochabamba for another night. Walking through the bus terminal, I noticed that busses to La Paz were running until almost midnight, leaving me plenty of time to return to the hotel, change clothes, repack my bag and grab a good final meal in the city. I decided to head back to La Estancia one last time, but noticed that Churrasco Tunari was actually open. Ben had mentioned this restaurant as having the best beef in the city so I altered my plans.

I was seated no more than 10 minutes when Ben and Kristina show up! They had been done in by the blockades and were only now leaving Cochabamba after a meal. We each ordered the Bife de Lomo and enjoyed a delicious meal. Around 9:45, we caught a cab to the bus terminal and I bought a ticket on the same bus on which they were traveling (Bs50).  

Bird Tally: 19 new, 17 lifers

Monday, June 13

[Note: it is now September, but things have finally settled enough to sort through my photos from this summer.]

I woke up at 5:30 determined to have a better go at San Miguel. Since there was an impending taxi blockade, my choice was either to leave Cochabamba early or not leave at all. I chose the former. The plan of attack was different given my unhappiness with the day before. First off, I took in a much better attitude. Second, I hired a taxi to take me to the bridge and would walk down to Liriuni on my own, hoping to catch a trufi from there. The driver was great to chat with as his Spanish was very clear and he was very understanding of my limited knowledge.

Arriving at the bridge at 6:45, I quickly became cold and walked upward toward sunlight. The birding was excellent from the start, as I located Tufted Tit-Tyrant, Black-hooded Sierra Finch, Grey-bellied Flowerpiercer, Cochabamba Mountain-Finch, Rusty-vented Canastero, Ash-breasted Sierra Finch, Rufous-bellied Saltator,  Bar-winged Cinclodes, Golden-billed Saltator, Cliff Flycatcher, Sparkling Violetear, Brown-capped Whitestart, Sierran Eleania, Black-winged Ground-Dove, Grey-hooded Parakeet, Mountain Caracara, Giant Hummingbird, Rufous-sided Warbling-Finch, Rufous-collared Sparrow, White-tailed Hawk, Bolivian Warbling-Finch, Band-tailed Sierra Finch, Hooded Siskin [NB: After sorting through my photographs, a bird I had initially considered a wren was actually a Puna Tapaculo, a very pleasant surprise]. I saw many of the same birds as I walked from the bridge (KM 461) to Liriuni (KM 451). Between KM 455 and KM457 there are numerous turnouts and the hillsides were fully blanketed in flowers yielding numerous Giant Hummingbirds and Sparkling Violetears. Near the bottom of the road, I picked up  Ringed Warbling-Finch, Paramo Seedeater, Baywing, and Chiguanco Thrush.

With little traffic, ample turnouts, and trails cut by herders with their llama, horses, cattle and alpacas, the walk down was an enjoyable hike, made more so by the yellows, oranges, pinks, purples and scarlets that painted the hills. At Liriuni, I walked down the turnoff toward the river hoping to find a Bolivian Blackbird, but they were not to be found. A number of families were doing their wash in the river, however.

Another Bolivian travel adventure ensued as the taxi drivers had organized a blockade of Cochabamba to protest new laws limiting the importation of old automobiles. A taxi from Liriuni (Bs30) got me as far as the main road between Cochabamba and La Paz. From there, I walked 4 or 5 km toward Cochabamba before getting past the last of the blockade. A taxi (Bs30) then got me the rest of the way to the hotel.

For a change of pace, I had dinner at Casa de Campos, also on Boulevard Recoleta. My waiter was quite taken with my smart-phone “Que lindo” and did not hesitate to ask for the chance to play with it. Google maps with its GPS was the most intriguing as he naturally used it to locate his home. He started to call over other waiters to show off his new toy. I knew a question was coming and I fully dreaded it, hoping it could be avoided. Of course, he eventually asked how much it cost. I grudgingly and somewhat guiltily replied $200, maybe equal to what he makes in a month. I ordered a plate of food which actually turned out to be a mountain of beef, chicken legs, hot dogs, chorizo, morcillo, and an assortment of offal. I knew something was wrong when I tasted the chalkiness of liver.

Bird Tally: 14 new, 14 lifers.

Sunday, June 12

The day started early as I hired a taxi to take me to the San Miguel Polyepsis forest (see map under location). We first stopped at the turn off for Liriuni where a Giant Hummingbird was active and a White-browed Chat-Tyrant skulked through the brush. A second stop a few kilometers further up offered a Chiguanco Thrush, a nosiy Grey-headed Parakeet and a female Red-tailed Comet. At the bridge (KM 461), I found Ash-breasted Sierra Finch, Grey-bellied Flowerpiercer, White-winged Black-Tyrant (female), Tufted Tit-Tyrant, Greenish Yellow-Finch, Rufous-collared Sparrow, Bar-winged Cinclodes, White-winged Cinclodes, and Baywing,

Admittedly, this was a frustrating day of birding that seemed much worse than it was. I was having trouble with every aspect: locating birds, focusing, and metering correctly. Given the notoriety of the site, I expected to load up my lifer list, but the warnings that both abundance and diversity are low should have lowered my expectations. I also was not a particularly happy renting a taxi for the day. When we stopped, the driver would amp up his music, which I am sure was not good for the birding. In addition, his taste in music was awful. More importantly, having a driver waiting for me made me feel rushed. I really enjoying birding at a slow pace, but the knowledge that I was paying by the minute ruined the experience.

The most interesting part of the day had nothing to do with birds. Pushing on past the bridge, we came upon a Feria for a small Indian village of maybe 10 stone huts at roughly 4000 meters. The setting was beautiful. The women all wear traditional clothing with wide-brimmed hats to block out the sun (I wonder why men are not similarly capped?). I had not eaten breakfast and asked a women if I could buy some of her food. I ended up with a plate of roadside llama meat that had been smoked dry. While I ate under a blue tarp, an older woman pulled llama cuts from a plastic sack and went about reducing the legs and hind-quarters to edible size for her stew.

After a nap, I met up with BK for dinner at La Estancia, then watched the last 5 minutes of the Mavs-Heat game.

Bird Tally: 11 new, 11 lifers.

Saturday, June 11

I awoke around 7am to the bus arriving in Cochabamba's bus terminal. It was colder outside the bus than inside. Having no clue where I was or even where I was staying, I accepted a ride from the first taxi that arrived and use the GPS on my phone to get us to the hotel (Anteus) suggested by the hostel owner in Santa Cruz. They had a room (Bs240) and I took the first few hours of the day taking a shower and washing my hiking clothes.

I spent the rest of the day exploring the city by moving from plaza to plaza. In the alley behind Iglesia San Juan de Dios in Plaza 14 de Septiembre I found a store that sold items produced by Bolivian artisans. Every article had a tag that included the materials used in its production and the name of the artist. I purchased a handmade hat, which will surely come in handy in La Paz, and two scarves. On the walk back, I noticed a White-faced Ibis, a flock of Andean Gulls, and a man in his underwear in the river.

After a well-earned nap, I went to dinner at La Estancia, a restaurant mentioned in the trip notes of other birders. I enjoyed an incredible Argentinian steak (Bs90) and a very nice salad bar.

Bird Tally: 2 new, 1 lifer.

Friday, June 10

 Friday, June 10

I finally made it to Jardin Botanico. Since it doesn't open until 9am, I enjoyed a slow breakfast and negotiated a taxi fare of Bs25, arriving just before 10am. This is truly an amazing birding area given its proximity to the city. Not quite Parque Metropolitano in Panama City, but nevertheless, quite good.

The laguna was not particularly populated, but I did see my first Least Grebe, Wattled Jacana and Common Moorhen of the trip. Rufous-browed Peppershrike and Rufous Hornero were in the trees and hillside. I started to walk toward the Moorhen for a better view when I noticed an Aligator (not a log) just to its right. A Roadside Hawk was perched beautifully at eye-level and did not flush while I shot closer and closer. A Yellow-tufted Woodpecker perched exposed in the top branches of a tree, while a House Wren moved through the middle branches.

I meandered through the extensive trail system that crosses varied types of forest habitats. This variety made the garden highly productive throughout the day. Along the fence-line, I found Thrush-like Wren, a female Purple-throated Euphonia, Sayaca Tanager, and Hooded Tanager. Moving into the woods, Woodcreeper became abundant, including Straight-billed Woodcreeper. An opening in the canopy was the perfect setting for a Black-fronted Nunbird to perch in the sunlight. 

Black-fronted Nunbird (300mm f/4 1/400, ISO200)

This section of trail held Creamy-bellied Thrush, which given my previous misses I had started to believe would be a bird I missed to migration. I also found the male Purple-throated Euphonia and Tropical Parula. Perhaps the most interesting bird of the day was the Red-billed Scythebill, who quite actively picked way at tree trunks. The low brush yielded Black-capped Antwren and Bolivian Slaty-Antshrike. Other birds included Silver-beaked Tanager, Fawn-breasted Wren. The day ended with a better shot of a Purplish Jay, Crested Oropendola and Yellow-chevroned Parakeet.

Red-billed Scythebill (300mm f/4  1/400, ISO200)

I returned to the hostel via a trufi taxi and then set off for the bus terminal. Bus terminals are undoubtedly the hardest part of traveling in a foreign language. I was not entirely sure what kind of ticket I had purchased, but I reiterated “cama, cama, cama” as often as possible. I came to expect an old school bus, but was pleasantly surprised that I actually had purchased a place on a cama bus (Bs70). The rumors about how cold they become were true, and every Bolivian was prepared with a blanket. I threw my fleece over me, pulled my hat down, turned on some music and slept fairly well over the course of the night.

Bird tally: 15 new, 11 lifers

Thursday, June 9

I spent a leisurely morning walking around La Vispera for the final time hoping to photograph a Planalto Hermit, which I had seen on several occasions, but hadn't caught on film. He arrived right outside my door, but yet again, my camera wasn't fast enough. I did catch another glimpse of a Glittering-bellied Emerald and a female Red-tailed Comet. Some Purplish Jays were also in the trees across from my door, but this too has been an elusive species to photograph well. In addition to standard fare of Rufous-bellied Thrush, Saffron Finch and Rufous Hornero, I spotted a Stripe-crowned Spinetail. I also found a small pond on the property, which had Rufous-crowned Sparrow and Black-capped Warbling-Finch in the surrounding brush. This was an area I wish I had discovered earlier.

Stripe-crowned Spinetail (300mm, f/6.3 1/250, ISO200) 

I also had to say farewell to the perros that roamed La Vispera. While all three were very nice dogs, the young female was very playful, once stealing a gourd from a farm basket and attacking it with zeal. Unfortunately, I left my cowboy hat laying around and she incited the other dogs into an active game of tug-of-war. The hat survived. 

Dog at La Vispera (55mm, f/7.1 1/200, ISO200)

The shared taxi back to Santa Cruz was a relatively uneventful ride, though the views along the river are truly stunning. Santa Cruz was waiting with the first rain of the trip. I was originally hoping for an easy night of looking through bird photos, but ended up going to a kareoke bar with Joe, an Australian guy I had met on my first stay in Santa Cruz, a Dane and two young Aussie women. The night ended after several Huari and a rousing rendition of Mr. Jonew with me teaching a German how to play the guitar using the chords from Wagon Wheel. Interesting night to say the least.

Bird Tally: 2 new, 2 lifers