Argentina – getting there is all part of the fun

Adios Bolivia, Hola Argentina! The good news is that we made it. And...wait for it...the bikes were at the border waiting for us! All good. That’s about all that went according to plan though, and the past few days have been rather interesting.

It all started quite well from our overnight stop in a town called Tupiza, about an hour drive from the border town of Villazon, on the Bolivian side. It was a nice day, we had a nice breakfast, and off we went to catch a collectivo (local bus) from Tupiza to Villazon. The driver graciously dropped us off at the train station where our bikes were, in theory, ready for pick up. Reality was consistent with theory and we were overjoyed by the sight of our bikes leaning up against the wall in the cargo room of the train station. In a relatively anticlimactic exchange we handed the guy our receipt and we wheeled our bikes outside. He had no idea how significant an event this was to us.

Outside, in the early morning sun, we transformed from backpacking mode to cycling mode. Things were looking real good as we jumped on our loaded bikes and rolled towards the border. Smiles all around. We were feeling very clever for having nailed the train thing so well. Yep, very clever indeed. All we have to do now is roll across the border, click click get our passports stamped as we have done so many times in the past, et voila, Argentina here we come. In an hour from now, we should be sitting pretty having an Argentine cappuccino in the mid-morning sun.

Argentina had a different plan for us. Rather than the click click of passport stamps we were expecting, we arrived at la frontera (border) to the chaos of hundreds, if not thousands, of people milling about in various multi-hour line ups. Hmmm. Ok, line ups, whatever. Not whatever. While figuring out which line to get in, we are approached by an American who warns us of a new entrance requirement for gringos, and that he had been there for 24 hours trying to get through. Apparently, the Argentines are miffed at Canada, the U.S., and Australia for charging Argentines for visas, and have therefore recently (i.e., last week) instituted a brand new “reciprocity fee” for us gringos of 75 bucks each. OK, no sweat, only money, right? Wrong. For some inexplicable reason, the only way to pay this fee is on-line via credit card, and, to print off the receipt and present said receipt to the guy at the border stamping passports. Ok, relatively simple task, right? Wrong: this is Bolivia.

Plan B: Amy gets in line behind a few hundred people, while I backtrack to town on a mission to find a computer with internet access, pay the fees, print off the receipts, and victoriously return to her with receipts in hand. Reality did not play along this time. Apparently, high-speed internet hasn’t yet made it to Villazon Bolivia. As far as I could tell, there are 3 internet shops in town. One wouldn’t let me bring my bike inside (leaving it on the street fully loaded is not an option), the other one had off and on low-speed internet, and the third one didn’t actually have internet despite a huge red “INTERNET” painted on the windows. ??? After an hour or two of trying on the slow-speed option, no dice. I run across the street to the other one...no dice again. It just freezes or shuts down. There just isn’t enough juice when walking through the Argentine Immigration website registration and payment options. I then try tracking down the Argentine consulate that I heard existed in town, thinking someone there might be able to lend assistance (it is, after all, their fee that we’re trying to pay!). The guy laughs when I tell him in my broken Spanish about my predicament. Nice. His response is that the internet is very slow in Villazon. No shit Sherlock. He was of no use, and I realized I was wasting my limited Spanish on him.

With my tail between my legs, I returned empty handed to Amy at the border who had moved about half way up the line in 2 hours. Amy “get me the h out of this wretched country!” Robillard was livid. With no options at the border, we reluctantly decide to at least go get something to eat since it was now middle of the day and we were both mentally exhausted and starving. After a beer and some not-too-bad chicken, we decide to try again at the internet shops. If that doesn’t work then we find a place to stay for the night. Upon revisiting the original internet shop where I spent an hour or two trying to pay the fees, it was inexplicitly closed. Upon rolling across the street to the other guy, he informed us that his internet was down and had no explanation for why, or any idea when, or even if, it would return. Sensing failure, and wanting a place to just crash and relax, we started looking for a place to stay. Villazon is a scruffy dusty unattractive border town in Boliva. Nuff said. It’s tough to spot anything decent. First place rejected us citing no availability. Second place had a reception person with the personality of a turnip. After giving us a rough time over our outrageous gringo questions such as “how much for a room?”, that was the straw; the order went out: ABORT MISSION – RETURN TO BASE. From the night before, we knew there were decent places to stay, with working internet, an hour away back in Tupiza. We found the first collectivo heading north to Tupiza, strapped the bikes to the roof, and put Villazon behind us for the day.


It was a good call. Getting back to Tupiza at sunset, finding a good place to stay, and splitting a bottle of Argentine malbec in the courtyard put the wind back in our sails. It took a few tries and a glass or two of malbec, but the internet thing eventually kicked in. The reception guy let us use the hotel printer, et voila, we had the paper we needed to cross the border. Nice! Next day, coffee, breakfast, another collectivo with bikes strapped to the roof, another drive through the altiplano, and we were once again rolling towards the border in Villazon....not feeling nearly as clever this time. Despite the 5-hr line up (what is that about anyway?? even the Bolivians and Argentines in the line up were outraged) things went according to plan, passports were stamped, and we rolled into Argentina just in time for cocktails.

Ah hey, along with explosive diarrhea and terrifying bus rides, if you aren’t dealing with epic multi-day border crossings, you aren’t really travelling. J

So Bolivia, the summary. A fascinating place to be sure, just not really a cycle-touring paradise. Being there in the rainy season probably has a lot to do with it. The exception, of course, was Sucre which turned out to be a trip highlight, and provided a fantastic base for taking Spanish lessons. We only rode the bikes for a week and a mere 400 kms, so I won’t bother with the cycling stats.

Bolivia trip stats:

Total nights: 33

Cheapest accom: $6 (concrete box, no windows, no water)

Most expensive accom: $44 (Christmas splurge)

Average cost per night accom: $24

Highlight: Sucre

Rob’s fav street food: salteñas!

Amy’s fav street food: pass...

Amy’s fav thing about Bolivia: pass...

Amy’s top pros/cons on Bolivia:

         +                                                             —

Sucre – the city                       inhospitable people (in general)

Sucre – the people                 inhospitable climate

Sucre – la dulce vita               garbage

Rob’s top pros/cons on Bolivia:

         +                                                                          —

Big sky country                                      food sucks

Cheap                                                      lack of infrastructure for cycle touring

Wine is getting better                          serious garbage/littering problem

So Argentina! From the border we go, as usual, south. The route planes across the altiplano for a bit (couple days), then finally takes a dive from 3800 m down to about 1000 m, and into Argentina wine country. We’re both excited about getting back on the bikes and into warm sunny Argentina! More on that real soon. Chau.