We arrived in Tupiza, in the middle of the night, with a bus that had left in the evening from Potosi, and the unavoidable Andean music at full volume. The streets were deserted, the hotels were closed, so we looked at our guide trying to find a place to sleep. We tried a first hotel but without success: we rang the bell, no reply. A rush of panic assaulted me, exhausted by the journey and the cold, I did not want anything more than a shower and a warm bed. No way. We continued walking, we saw another hotel, Anexo Mitru, and fortunately the owner opened the door after few attempts with the bell. I would have suffered from the cold all night long, but I was pleasantly rewarded by a refreshing hot shower (which was very rare in Bolivia at the time).
The next day we visited the town, but it does not offer much, except for a bit of history about the famous bandits Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidi who kidnapped Huaca Huanusca and were captured and taken out in San Vincente.
Many people choose Tupiza as a starting point to visit the Salar of Uyuni, but we decided to explore it by experiencing the “triathlon”. Aimed primarily at those who enjoy being in contact with nature, it is a fun one-day tour that combines mountain biking, horse riding and off-road travelling to visit the most breathtaking places of Tupiza (The Narrow, Entre Rios, Quebrada Seca, El Duende Canyon, La Toroyoj, Quebrada de Palmira, Valle de los Machos, Inca Canyon, Quebrada de Palapa, El Sillar).
If we were to report one peculiarity of the tour, that would certainly be related to the recklessness and rashness of the horses. It was my first time on a horse, but I also told myself that it was an activity for tourists and not for a skilled John Wayne. Evidently, I was wrong. While during the first part of the walk through the streets of the village towards the “countryside” the horses pretended to be quiet and gentle, once they reached an area where no one can see and rescue you, they revealed themselves for what they are: wild and reckless beasts! We managed to stay on saddle only for pure sense of survival.
I still remember the scratches on my arms after having darted through the brambles of the valleys, the terror in my eyes and, at the same time, the immense spaces, the splendid rock formations that burn under the sun and the wonderful feeling of freedom with the wind in my hair while the horses galloped fast (and out of control).
