Rurrenabaque – Santa Cruz – Samaipata; El Fuerte;
Amboro National Park
Domingo 2 – viernes 7 de deciembre.
Sunday, it is time to leave Rurrenabaque and move on out of the Rain
Forest. The increasing frequency of rain is making travel more iffy, and the
mosquitoes more numerous. I get up at 5:45, pack, and walk to the Bus Terminal.
At 7 AM, I buy a ticket for a TRUFI (Taxi RUta FIja: Fixed Route Taxi) for San
Borjas for B80 ($12) and wait for the seats to fill. At about 8, we have six
passengers (7 actually since two are 2 and <1, and traveling with their
mom), and we head off.
After about 2 hours, we arrive at the town of Yacuma. We will all get
out and I go buy a snack, come back and the car is gone and so are all the
passengers. I figure that they will be back so I hang out and, to my relief,
the car comes back 15 minutes later. We hop in but two passengers have left us
so there is more space and I sit in the front: much more comfortable. We
continue on to San Borjas, arriving at about noon. The road is all dirt road
and we are all thankful there has been little rain for a couple of days.
After arriving at a bus depot in San Borjas, a town on the edge of a
Reserve I would have visited if the rains were not starting. I am accosted by a
woman trying to sell me a TRUFI ticket to Trinidad (next town on the way to
Santa Cruz). I am about to take her up on it when our driver convinces me that
his colleague from his TRUFI company has a full car ready to go to Trinidad. I
take him up on this as does the woman with the two little girls, but he lies.
We get driven downtown to their TRUFI office, where we pay the B120 to Trinidad,
but we are two people short of a full load and so we wait. Around 1 PM, the
woman, another young man waiting, and I agree to pay an extra B40 each so that
we can get going, which we do about 1:15.
The road to Trinidad appears to be a mix of Pampas and rain forest,
although mostly it is cut back 4oo m from the road to make way for fields for
livestock. En route, we see a lot of wildlife including Jaciru storks, turkey
and black vultures, Amazon carcaras, Amazon kingfishers, white and cucuy herons,
snowy egrets, individual capybaras and a big family of them wallowing in a
lagoon.
Along the way, we pick up a local man, and then a while later to pick up
a piglet that is lying half-dead on the side of the road, having clearly fallen
out of the back of a truck. The small pig is picked up by the driver and the
local and dumped into a sack and tied down to the roof rack along with the
other luggage. It is I am sure hot in the sun and in a bag that he can hardly
breathe in, the pig is surely in an awful situation. I suggest that they do
something but they refuse and I console myself with the knowledge that the pig
will not go far. Half an hour later, we stop in a town and the man and the pig
leave us.
Rio Mamoré outside Trinidad
At 6 PM, we arrive at the Rio Mamoré, a large river which is used for
freighting supplies and pleasure cruises and we see a lot of large boats tied
up along the far shore. We need to cross the river to get to Trinidad, so we
drive onto the most basic barge I have ever seen, mostly planks nailed
together, with two long planks for the tires of vehicles to drive on. Now
planks in the Amazon are not standardized. People use chainsaws to cut up wood
as needed, and of the size they want. These planks are huge by North American
standards and would cost a fortune there. The barge has no motor and is
propelled by a small barge (1.5 x 6 m) with motor which pulls up along side
near the stern and is tied to the barge, which can carry about 5 cars and a
bunch of motorcycles. The crossing takes about 15 minutes. The far side is the
outskirts of Trinidad, and by 6:30, we arrive in the chaotic Amazon town of
Trinidad, another Amazon location I had
thought to visit if the rains had held off. We are dropped off near the bus
station, and I help the woman with two small children to carry her multiple
bags to a baggage depot as she is also going to Santa Cruz. Here to Santa Cruz
is 500 km south but from here the road is paved so it is relatively quick: it will
only take 7-9 hours. I buy a ticket for a late bus leaving at 9:30 PM, so that
I will not arrive in the middle of the night. The wait and the bus ride are
uneventful although it is hot both in the terminal and on the bus. We arrive at
6:30 AM Monday morning.
Santa Cruz S 17º 47.4’ W 63º 9.7’
Elev: 443 m.
I get a hostal close to the bus station as I am tired and in no mood to
start searching. My room (without bathroom) is cheap and worth it (B40). It is
dirty and in slow decay. The thin mattress sinks into the wooden slats beneath
it and one of the slats breaks. The staff is surly. I spend a few hours resting
there and am glad to get the heck out. I go for a long walk. Among other
notable things, I pass a gas station where there are several young women in
blue uniforms with short skirts pumping gas. I want to go to the Natural
History Museum which is part of a College building. I pass it once without
seeing it but when I get there, even though it is 7 at night, it is open. It is
small but interesting. There are rocks, fossils and minerals of many types,
most of them local, including a large chunk of petrified wood. There are
stuffed animals, birds and an anaconda, and animal skeletons. I am still there
an hour and a half later when the young woman attendant asks me to leave so she
can close up.
The next morning (Tuesday), after searching a bit, I find another hostal
at twice the price (still inexpensive) which is not depressing to enter. I walk
to the main plaza which is usually pretty interesting but not here. There is a
modern art museum here but unfortunately they are putting together a new
exhibition so the place is closed up.
I take a taxi to the zoo which I
had read about and wanted to see, simply to be able to see more of South
American wildlife. I am not disappointed.
There are a lot of happy birds and reptiles here. The former are happy
because they have large enclosures which include small lagoons and lots of
trees and lots of company. The latter are happy because reptiles always seem
content as long as they have food, warmth, and occasional mates. However, the
macaws and toucans, as well as the hawks, eagles (including the enormous harpy
eagle) and vultures (including the Andean condor, the biggest flying bird in
the Americas at 15 kg) , and the foxes (gray and yellow-footed) and a large
unidentified species of weasel (about the size of a river otter) all definitely
need more space and more to do: their cages and enclosures are simply prisons.
Surprisingly, the cats (pumas, jaguars, jaguarundis, ocelots, and margay cats)
look surprisingly happy doing nothing in their cement floored fairly small
enclosures: might have to do with the temperature and that cats are generally
content to do nothing.
A pair of spectacled bears (very similar to North American black bears
and of similar habits) look contented sleeping together in their grassy
enclosure with their limbs splayed out to keep as cool as possible. In the
heat, I walk slowly home along a main street, with many car dealerships and
some fancier shops. I stop at a restaurant for a cold beer to cool off a bit.
Spectacled Bears Sleeping through the Midday Heat
Wednesday morning I take a taxi (B15) to a TRUFI stand where I pay my
B30 for a ride to Samaipata, a pretty town part way up the eastern slopes of
the Andes. And I wait. After an hour or so, a group of four Iranian men in
their 30s arrive. The TRUFI driver asks if I want to go with them: the only
caveat is that he is going to make an unscheduled stop at a resort which is
built inside the remains of an ancient volcano crater. I am happy to do so and
away we go.
The Iranians are friendly although to me they appear kind of arrogant;
that smug kind of tourist attitude that I find annoying. They all have Muslim
names although none of them is a practicing Muslim: one is Mohammed, but I
forget the other names. The one in the front street is shooting everything with
a videocamera. In the middle seat, the man clearly in charge of the trip, is
shooting lots of photos with an DSLR camera, which he tells me is for his blog
which is useful for attracting people to his tourism business. The man sitting
beside him is working his way through a Spanish phrase book. The one beside me
in the backseat is the friendliest of them all. He runs an import business back
home but is also involved with the man with the DSLR in running tours within
Iran. When we stop at a location where some young girls try to sell us
refreshments, he starts to shoot photos of them. They ask him not to, or to pay
them. He simply ignores them and keeps shooting.
We get to the resort, which is in a gorgeous setting, with tall rock
outcroppings (the crater) all around, and through a gap at the far end can be
seen ruddy-coloured sandstone cliffs in the distance. we get out and walk
around. There is a 500 m long lagoon in the middle, with a lot of wading birds
and ducks in and around it, and a golf course around it as well. There are
several buildings which have rooms for guest and these are quite luxurious by Bolivian
standards. There is a large pool beside the main building which also has a
large restaurant. There are also two tennis courts. The whole place is in the
process of slow relentless decay. Two of the Iranians and I walk around the
whole property which is beautiful. On coming back, I talk to one of two waiters
who are hanging out doing nothing as there appear to be very few guests. He
tells me that there are a lot of guests, especially on weekends, from South
America, the US, and Europe. But that the golf course sees little use. Back in the car, we continue to Samaipata and
arrive around 12:30.
Volcano Resort
Samaipata S 18º 10.8’ W 63º 52.6’
Elev: 1673 m
Samaipata will turn out to be the town furthest south of my journey. The actual furthest south point I reach is the El Fuerte ruins I
will visit tomorrow on foot. Samaipata is a beautiful little town, with cobblestone
streets surrounded by mountains, and with a growing tourist business based on
its proximity to Parque Nacional Amboro to the North, and El Fuerte, the
Pre-Columbian ruins about 12 km outside of town and the physical beauty of the area. I talk to a couple of tour
operators in town, and visit the Anthropology Museum which, among other things,
shows a National Geographic film about El Fuerte. It is clear that tourism is
slow through the rainy season which is slowly getting underway.
In the morning (Thursday), I change hostals, moving to one on the edge
of town, El Jardin, that one of the Iranians have told me about, with a large
garden a camping area, and a friendly hostess named Candalaria, who helps me
out quite a bit. From the notices at the other hostal and this one, it is clear
that this town is a hotbed of alternative lifestyles, and while some of this is
coming from locals, it is also coming from expats who have made their home in
this beautiful area. There are ads for meditation retreats, re-birthing
workshops, alternative building construction courses (mostly working with
adobe), and a number of organic farms in the area that take in volunteers or
people who simply want to hang out in the countryside. I note that the
buildings at this hostal are adobe, but not simply square boxes like elsewhere.
Some have thinner walls too, clearly not made from the traditional bricks. My
room is a small extension from the main building and it boasts privacy windows
made of wine bottles and a skylight. Several outbuildings for guests as well as
the main building have some interesting shapes and windows, and things sticking
out of the roofs. It is an intriguing place, and I am disappointed that I do
not get a chance to meet Candalaria’s husband who built much of the structures
here.
My room
at El Jardin
The next day is quite warm and sunny, and I head out to El Fuerte. The
scenery is beautiful . The walk to El Fuerte is level along the paved
highway and then mostly climbs on a
rocky dirt road up into the mountains. It takes about 2.5 hours to walk there.
The physical setting is very impressive, being high up on a mountainside, with
mountains all around. The most important part of the site is a flat sandstone
outcrop, 220 x 60 m, which is covered with carvings of animals, plants and
people, drainage channels, and little portals on both sides. The carvings are
thought to be over 1000 years old. You are not actually allowed on this part or
any other parts of the ruins both because the sandstone is somewhat fragile and
also because it has been defaced in the past: there is graffiti visible in more
than one location. Five lookouts have been built around it to let you see it
but unfortunately they only allow views of a small part of the outcrop. Surrounding
the outcrop are ruins of many other buildings.
El Fuerte
The location of this site with the Amazon to the east, the Andes to the
west, and the dry Chaco to the south, may explain why this ruin may have been
both a meeting place and a melting pot for different cultures. What is known is
that it was a ritual and religious centre for the Mojocoyas and the Chané
people from 800-1300 AD. It was also a pass-by lodge for Guarani warriors in the
period after. It was a meeting and trading centre for the Incas from 1400-1450.
And the Spanish used it as a fortress, and a trading and storehouse town during
their 300 years of rule. Some of the buildings reflect all of these cultures.
On my way home, I stop at a small restaurant for a cold beer. While I
drink it outside, I watch people outside at a motorcycle repair shop next door,
trying out repaired bikes, and also diagnosing ones just brought in. After cell
phones, almost everyone has a motorcycle.
The arch of my left foot is quite sore, and I wish I
had worn my hiking shoes instead of sandals, but I am very happy and slightly
sunburned from my day. That evening, I find out that Candalaria and her family
had a female dog that recently delivered a litter of pups and then promptly
died from a virus. The tiny puppies are also succumbing to the virus. When I
visit at one point, a woman who served me breakfast there that morning is doing
reiki on one of the dying pups.
The next day (Friday), I arrange
to meet with Elva, a tour guide and a biologist, to visit Amboro National Park.
Elva runs a small tour company with her husband who is also a biologist. They
have recently moved here with their children from Cochabamba as he was already
working here and they like the area. I do not blame them. I had wanted to spend a few days in Amboro,
but due to the start of the rainy season, few operators want to do more than
day trips, not wanting to contend with slippery mountain roads, poor visibility
for the sights to be seen, and, I imagine, whiny tourists.
We leave at 8:30 and drive about 45 minutes north of town to the edge of
Amboro National Park. Only about 60% of Amboro Park’s 4500 km2 has
full park protection, while the rest is a Mixed Management Zone, meaning that
cattle are allowed to graze here. Unfortunately, much of the cloud forest is in
the Mixed Management Zone, which Elva considers to be the most endangered
habitat for reasons that I will explain. She and some others in the area are pushing
to get more protection for the cloud forest.
We spend about 8 hours walking through the forest, climbing up a narrow
dirt track and then up a very steep narrow creek valley for much of the day
until we finally come to a summit which is mostly open, with low shrubs, and
windy. Towards the end of the day, we descend. Over the day, we see cat prints
(ocelot or jaguarondi) and lots of armadillo diggings, as well as see and hear
many many birds.
Tree Ferns: Magical and Anient Forest
Tree Ferns in a Narrow Creek Valley
The most important element of the cloud forest are two species of tree
fern (fern species that grow to tree size). Ferns pre-date flowering plants and
were the first group of plants with a vascular system: a system that allowed
plants to bring water up from deep underground and thus begin to colonize drier
habitats. The most primitive of the tree ferns, called the giant tree fern, actually
has a limited vascular system: it has no roots and the lower trunk is actually
made of dead chitin and keratin fibers. (We saw one individual which had fallen
over, the bottom end of the trunk was off the ground and yet it was still
growing!) It grows a new crown of leaves each year but grows very slowly: 1 m
per 100 years, meaning that older taller specimens may be 1000 years old. It
actually does not begin to reproduce until the age of 50. It dates back about
200 million years ago, before the dinosaurs, and possibly is much older than
that. The other tree fern species is smaller and more modern: it has roots.
Other than the slow growth and reproductive rate, the giant tree fern is not
common outside of protected areas because its fibrous trunk makes an excellent
growth medium for orchids. These forests are home to a great variety of other
ferns: over 500 species. Ferns have an unusual requirement for reproduction, so
Elva tells me. The male and female gametes must be shed in moist areas
containing Cyanobacteria if they are to successfully form zygotes.
Other elements of the cloud forest are several tree species of the
Eucalyptus family. Not the Eucalyptus genus which is only found in Australia
(although recently they are planted all over the Andes for their straight
fast-growing wood), but members of the same family: all with characteristic
aromatic leaves and peeling bark. The latter is thought to be a mechanism for
reducing the load of mosses and lichens which grow on trees in this wet
environment. Native conifers here, white and black pine (not the North American
white pines), also have peeling bark for the same reason. These are slow
growers and locals have begun planting an exotic conifer species that grows
quicker.
We ended up talking about guide salaries and Elva told me that guide pay
increased in Bolivia last year from B60/day (about $9) to B150/day (about $22). The clouds moved in in the latter part of the day and we were enveloped
in fog. They talk about two kinds of rain in the cloud forest: vertical and
horizontal. We were in the horizontal stuff: it was quite wet but rain was not
coming down out of the sky. It was blowing over us as the clouds did.
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