Shifting Gears Journey: Weeks 17-18 in Bolivia
Hello and I hope you’re doing well! I’m changing things up a bit this week I want to find a format that works with how I travel. I’ve found these a bit time consuming to out together. And while I enjoy the process, it takes me away from being present in all of the new places I’m exploring. My goal is to share my experience as accurately as I can without it taking many hours. I would love any feedback or ideas you have on how I can do this.
I spent the last two weeks in Bolivia as I got to know a country I didn’t know much about. Bolivia is landlocked in the middle of South America, and is one of the continent’s poorest countries. Despite the label of a ‘poor’ country, I found richness in the abundance of nature and culture here. Each place I visited in Bolivia felt unique as I moved between a range of landscapes.
I’ve included more photos in this edition, and have saved a complete album here. With the many landscapes and experiences I had here, it’s worth checking out!
Reflections From a Backpack
I have a recurring call with some friends back in Canada, where we catch up and share ideas we’ve been pondering. In our last conversation, we spent hours discussing intimacy—not in the relationship sense, but in a broader way we connect with the world around us. Intimacy in this context is the blurring of boundaries between self and experience.
My friend Neil shared a story about a two-month canoe trip through Canada’s northern territories. The journey was slow at times, requiring his group to portage through all conditions, fully surrendering to the limitations of nature. This way of traveling fostered intimacy—both with his companions and with the land they were moving through. When the trip ended, a plane picked them up, flying over the same river they had spent months navigating in just twenty minutes. The contrast struck him: the plane covered the same distance easily, but in doing so, it missed the invitation to truly engage with the land below.
His story made me reflect on how I engage intimately with the world as I travel. I’ve realized that the experiences that push me, that require some form of resistance or challenge, are the ones that immerse me the most in the present. Like a cold shower jolting me awake, stepping our of my comfort zone wakes me to a depth of the world that is always present. Lately, I’ve been running between destinations and taking buses instead of taxis. I’ve turned to CouchSurfing and hitchhiking as a way to meet people and better understand local cultures. I’m working on improving my Spanish, surrounding myself with non-English speakers even when it’s uncomfortable. These choices add obstacles to my days—but by choosing this harder path, I open myself to deeper connection. Avoiding these challenges might be easier, but it would also mean missing an essential part of my journey.
This isn’t to say that intimacy always has to be difficult, but it does require our active participation in life. It isn’t found in the passive consumption of screens, or in repeating the same thought patterns of yesterday on autopilot. Intimacy is about fully engaging with people, places, and the unknown—willingness to be present for whatever arises. Every challenge or inconvenience, is an invitation to connect more deeply. Each of these moments is like a wake-up call, a chance to experience life with all its intricacy.
There is always the option to take the quick plane ride instead of the slow canoe. If the destination is all that matters, the plane makes sense. But when we look down from above, can we recognize what we’re missing? There is no right answer—but for me, Neil’s story was a reminder that intimacy is always available, waiting for those who know how to look for it.
Discovering New Places
Lake Titicaca
Lake Titicaca spans both Peru and Bolivia and is the world’s highest navigable lake at 3800m. I spent my last few days in Peru here before heading around the lake to Bolivia.
Uros Islands and Taquile Island
On Peru’s side are the Uros Flating Islands where communities of people live. Hundreds of small islands made of reeds make up the community. Each family has their own island along with floating shops and schools. The entire community is powered by generators and small solar panels.
Unfortunately, the Uros islands have also become a bit of a tourist trap. The community relies on tourism for their income which means that their cultural practices are put on display as hidden fees throughout the tour.
Experiences like this leave me with mixed feelings; I loved seeing a way of living that was completely unique, but also feel like tourism changes the essence of these places.
On the boat ride back, I made friends with some kids learning English. Their curiosity and friendliness reminded me that kids (and people) are largely the same wherever I go.
Taquile Island on Lake Titicaca is a UNESCO world heritage site where several villages of Taquileños live. I was again able to witness a a unique way of living as the locals dress and live traditionally and continue their heritage of weaving textiles.
A reality of backpacking sometimes means eating quick dinners alone in a budget hostel.
Isla del Sol
On Bolivia’s side of Lake Titicaca, I spent a couple of nights on Isla Del Sol (Island of the Sun), a two-hour boat ride from the nearby town of Copacabana. The Island gets its name from the belief that this is the birthplace of the Incan sun god Inti.
A major highlight of my visit were the panoramic views of the sky and surrounding mountains. I made sure to watch the sunset with my dinner each night.
After sunset, I was able to catch a full moonrise next to the Cordillera Real mountain range.
The Island also has an 18km hiking loop which took me to ancient sites, along rolling hills, and through the villages of the island. At over 4000m of elevation, every hill was a challenge.
The Chincana Labrynth offered a spot to explore on my hike. The name “Chincana” means “place where one gets lost” in the local Quechua language, referring to the maze-like structure of its remaining stone walls and passages.
La Paz
La Paz, the unofficial capital of Bolivia, was unlike any city I’ve visited. Built into the mountainsides, the city’s main public transit system consists of teleféricos (gondolas) that provide sweeping views across the urban landscape.
Before arriving in the city, I connected with Ricardo through Servas International*, and he offered to be my guide. Ricardo, a local college professor and seasoned traveler, spent two days showing me around the sites.
This gave me a perfect opportunity to practice my Spanish. Though I’m not yet fluent, my Spanish has improved enough that I could maintain conversations with Ricardo throughout our time together. Ricardo and I remain in contact, and I am deeply appreciative of his generous hospitality.
*Servas is a free non-profit platform that connects travelers to local hosts for cultural exchange.
Bolivia is one of South America’s poorest countries, which had lowered my expectations for La Paz. While poverty was still visible, the city center surprised me with its modern skyscrapers, professionally dressed people, and abundance of cafés.
Valle de la Luna has trails around some unique rock formations thought to resemble to moon. I’m not convinced, but still thought it was pretty remarkable.
La Paz offers a variety of attractions and oddities, including the Bruja (Witch) Market and numerous museums—including this peculiar one…
Tarabuco
Tarabuco is a small town near Sucre that I visited on a Sunday market day. Though figuring out the local bus system took several morning hours, the journey was worth it to discover another hidden corner of the world.
The main road was under reconstruction as the town prepared for an upcoming festival. The locals seemed unfazed as they went about their days.
Though rough around the edges, the town had seemed to hold onto a older way of living that reminded me that I was in South America’s poorest country. Dirt roads, brick houses, and traditional Quechua attire were the norm.
Market food was cheap and abundant. I paid $2 for a plate of friend chicken, corn, and potatoes chips.
Off-the-beaten-path places like Tarabuco are what keep me passionate about traveling. The three-hour journey was worth it to witness another way of life. With our abundance of comfort and technology, it’s sometimes hard to imagine that people can live so differently and still be happy.
Potosi Mine Tour
Mining is a major part of Bolivia’s economy, but it also has a dark history of exploitation dating back hundreds of years. The mine below is Cerro Rico which became the world’s largest silver mine in the 16th century and played a crucial role in the Spanish Empire. Today, the mine is largely run by cooperatives—groups of individuals who own mining rights and keep the profits for themselves. Now, the silver deposits are largely depleted and the major minerals in the mine are zinc, tin, and the remaining silver.
When I learned that tours of the active Cerro Rico mine were available, I was curious to see the conditions that thousands of workers experience daily. I found a reputable company (Big Deal Tours) ran by current and ex-miners, and was taken on a tour that I won’t soon forget.
As we pulled into the mine, I was fitted with the standard uniform of a miner: rubber boots, coveralls, a hardhat with a light, and a bag to carry items. Coming from an industrial background in Canada, I felt like I was without some essential gear. Missing were the steel-toed boots, gloves, safety glasses, hearing protection, and respirator that are standard issue back home.
Entering the mine, I was told not to touch the pipes on the sides or the walls of the cave. The pipes supply air and electricity for equipment. My guide pointed out formations of toxic zinc sulfate and along the walls as he urged me to be careful. The air, I learned, was also filled with cancer-causing silicate dust. Mud made the floors slippery and we came across many uncovered holes that a person could easily fall into. As the tunnel heights varied, sometimes dropping below 4 feet, I had to walk hunched over.
When I asked about the working conditions for miners, I was told that they’re paid more than more other jobs in the region, but that it comes at the expense of their health. My guide explained that most miners don’t live to 60 years old, primarily due to respiratory issues. Since the mine operates as a cooperative, each miner must provide their own safety gear. The prevailing culture of machismo, my guide added, further discourages workers from using proper safety equipment.
While this was an interesting (albeit slightly dangerous) afternoon for me, I had to remind myself that this is the daily reality for countless others in Potosí and around the world. When I spoke with people in Bolivia about their work, they described the sacrifices they’re making in their own lives so their children can attend school and find better opportunities.
Inside the mines, workers make offerings to mine deities through cigarettes, alcohol, and coca leaves. They also perform llama blood sacrifices—46 were done in 2024. While some miners follow Christianity, I learned they pray to different gods within the caves, practices rooted in the region’s ancient religions.
It is customary to provide gifts to the miners on these tours. I bought several bags of coca leaves and soy milk to give away. Most of the miners don’t eat lunch as eating in the cave would mean ingesting toxic chemicals, and leaving the cave means a loss of money. Instead, the miners rely on the appetite suppression of coca leaves to carry them through their 8-12 hour shifts.
With permission, I photographed the miners at work. Despite the harsh conditions, none complained when I spoke with them—most viewed it as their best available option. The cooperative structure allows them to keep what they find, providing a strong incentive to continue this difficult work.
Note: Later, while hitchhiking in Chile, a Bolivian driver told me his brother-in-law had died in a mining accident. Such tragic stories seem common among those connected to the mines.
Mine carts loaded with up to 2 tons of rock move through the tunnels. In the narrow passages, I had to train my ears to listen for approaching carts so I could step aside in time.
Miners have to put themselves in awkward positions in this work. Here, a worker climbs into a narrow passage to clear out remaining debris.
As I left the mine , I was left with an array of conflicting emotions. My first thought wad that places like this shouldn’t exist. It’s not fair that some people have to work so hard and risk so much while others can live much more comfortably. However, the world in its current state needs the minerals found in the mines around the world. Certainly, the people here are safer and better off than other mines around the globe.
The people here see the mountain and mines within it as their way of life. For them, it’s an honest living and a way to provide a better life for the next generation. It makes me think about the work my grandparents and generations further back did on farms on the prairies of Alberta and how I’m now able to benefit. This cycle of sacrifice and progress seems to be a universal story, playing out differently across cultures.
Later meeting some new friends in a hostel helped to lighten my mood. Dorian, Ky, and Sacha shared a dorm as we stayed up late getting into some deep chats.
Bolivian Salt Flats Tour
The Bolivian Salt Flats are Bolivia’s most famous tourist attraction, and for good reason. At over 10,000 square kilometers, this salt formation is visible from space and Google Maps. I was fortunate to visit during the rainy season when water on the ground creates a mirror-like effect.
I took a 4-day tour starting at the Salt Flats and continuing south toward the Chilean border.
It was hard to believe that it was salt on the ground, and not snow. I made sure to taste it to be sure
I’ll be sure to frame this one when I get home.
A 4am wakeup brought us to a perfect sunrise.
A view down from Anaconda Cannon, given it’s name for the winding river below.
Alpacas (or llamas, I can never tell), are common in this part of Bolivia.
The many shallow lagoons in the Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve serve as a primary habitat and breeding ground for different species of Flamingo.
Bolivia is a hotspot for French tourists. Of my group of nine, the rest were from France or french-speaking Switzerland. I made sure to help everyone brush up on their english as they were happy to include me in their conversations.
This multi-day trip concluded with a crossing into the desert of Northern Chile where I began the next leg of my journey.
Final Thoughts
My time in Boliva was short and there is so much more I could have done while I was here. But considering I only had two weeks, I feel like I saw a lot.
Now, I’m making my way south through Chile to meet a friend for some hiking in Patagonia. Starting in the north means I have a lot of ground to cover in a few weeks – about 4000km. I’ve been travelling overland since Peru and have found myself embracing an intimacy with the land I travel through in the process. Transitions between places feel smoother as I witness landscapes and people change as I move.
I picked up some camping gear on my way and now have the goal to hitchhike as much of these 4000km as possible. Hitchhiking is more common in Chile than Canada, and is another way I’ve changed how I travel to find contrast and lessons along the way.
With love,
Adam