Potosi: Down Into The Mine Then Down From The Mountains
Only about half the seats are taken as the bus ambles out of Uyuni despite company reps repeatedly bellowing the name of the destination so we think at first that we’re in for a comfortable ride. What we don’t know is that the bus will, in the first few miles, make multiple stops and take on passengers until not only every seat is full but so is the aisle. Not so comfortable after all and not in the same class as Cruz del Sur in Peru, but we’re on our way to Potosi, one of the highest cities in the world.
Four hours later a battered old taxi takes us from Potosi bus station to somewhere reasonably close to our digs in a pedestrianised street, digs which turn out to be in a beautifully renovated town house with an internal courtyard. Around us the narrow streets lead to two stylish squares where uniformed guards marshal the Gobierno building and young girls in mighty fine dresses compete in what appears to be a juvenile beauty contest.
This is a town with a rather enthralling past. No doubt, like us before we did our research, many will never have heard of Potosi, yet in its heyday it was one of the richest cities in the world and more populous than either London or Paris. The reason? Silver.
When the Spanish arrived in Bolivia in 1532, they were soon to discover the Cerro Rico – the “Rich Mountain” – which dominates the city and is packed with valuable minerals, in fact local legend describes the mountain as “made of silver”. Potosi quickly became enormously wealthy, supporting a population of over 200,000 and becoming the centre of the Spanish colonial silver mint. In fact, the Cerro Rico is one of the world’s largest silver deposits, still being mined today almost 500 years after its discovery. It still hasn’t run out despite half a millennium of plunder.
Evidence of the city’s colonial glory is all around, grand buildings with stylish balconies help to give Potosi a classic Spanish feel, well preserved enough for the older part of the city to be classified as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The city lays claim to be the world’s highest at just over 4,060 metres – but Wikipedia places it 2nd after El Alto, meaning that we’ve spent time in each of the two highest cities in the world in the last couple of weeks.
The Cerro Rico is riddled with mineshafts, so much so that some fear a catastrophic collapse at some point in the future, yet the mining community at its foot is a bustling, noisy industrial site. With all this history and activity, the chance to go deep into the mine is too good an opportunity to turn down, so we meet with our guide Sol, herself a mine worker veteran, don our protective gear and head through the small entrance into the darkness of the tunnel.
The whole thing looks archaic, trucks on rails being pushed by hand looking like photos from mines a century ago, rudimentary roof supports inside the tunnel, rocks and minerals being sorted by the hands of crouching ladies. Sol advises that apart from an electric winch or two, little has changed in the mining techniques in hundreds of years. It looks that way, too.
It’s a bit scary at times. The tunnel is narrow and pitch dark, we’re walking on uneven, wet ground between the two rails of the track with no space on either side. Now and again there’s a rumble as a truck approaches along the track; the rumble becomes a roar as the wagon, loaded with mined material, is hurtling ever closer. “Quick quick” shouts Sol as she leads us to an alcove where we can – just – step aside as the truck races by. Remember, this a truck carrying two tons of material being pushed downhill by two men, with absolutely no braking mechanism. Fail to make the alcove in time and we’re off to meet our maker.
Our two hours in the dark claustrophobic tunnels also involve climbing rickety wooden ladders up and down through tight shafts, ducking beneath unforgiving rock ceilings and breathing in clouds of choking dust. This is a very real experience all round.
But of course we’re only visitors playing with reality. For the miners all around us, this is tough, poorly paid and dangerous work which quickly takes its toll on health. It works like this. Each gang has to produce a certain number of truck loads on each shift – and, the “shift” is not governed by hours, it’s governed by that truckload target. If on a bad day it takes 24 hours to fill the requisite number of wagons, then these guys do a 24-hour shift – what’s more, the pay is a flat rate. No matter how long the shift turns out to be, each miner gets around 150 bolivianos per shift – that’s about £16.
It’s a more than tough life. In the tunnels, we meet a group of guys taking a break by the electric winch. Sol says they’re 18 hours into their shift already. And then we pass Antonio, a foreman responsible for finding new silver seams and then detonating the dynamite – he has worked down here for 13 years, and he’s only 26. Most retire before they’re in their mid 40s, unable to take any more of the dust and hard labour.
Devils exist within the tunnels, devils made by the miners and presented with gifts daily to ensure protection in this dangerous world. Down here in what these guys see as the underworld, it’s not Gods you need to keep on side, it’s the devil himself.
To keep spirits up, the miners chew coca leaves and drink alcohol. With what seems to us to be a shocking addition to the danger they are in, they drink not only bottles of beer but swigs of a spirit which smells like industrial cleaner and is…wait for it….NINETY SIX PER CENT PROOF. They drink it in small doses, tip some on the ground to bless Pachamama, then some on to the devil effigy. Sol performs the ritual, then offers the stuff to us. Of course we decline, there’s no way our stomachs would cope with even a tot of 96%.
It’s been a revelation coming down here, like stepping back in time. We expected to learn about silver mining, not sure we expected to witness such brutal, primitive working conditions. Or be jumping out of the way of 2-ton trucks come to that.
And so it’s time to leave Potosi, a smart yet industrial town which is attractive and welcoming but could really do with the ayuntamiento hiring about a dozen operatives to clear up the copious amounts of dog shit from the streets. Avoiding stepping in it is a constant distraction. It’s a perpetually cold city, too – the surrounding giant mountains may protect it from some of the harsher winds, but the altitude means nights are cold all year round.
We’re heading down now, literally. After almost three weeks at high altitude, we are for the first time in that whole period coming below 3,500 metres, in fact from Potosi at 4,060 to Sucre at 2,750. It’s been fabulous; we managed to avoid altitude sickness but that’s not to say it’s not been difficult, coping with these conditions is a constant vigil. Michaela’s persistent blocked nose is causing her an additional breathing difficulty and she appears to be about to hit a wall: it’s probably a good time to return to some normality.
Instead of the bus this time, we indulge in a taxi for the three hour journey to our next destination which, given that the cost is only £33 and we’re ready for a change of scene, seems a no brainer of a decision. As we pull out of Potosi and on to the open road, our driver crosses himself twice, no doubt seeking divine protection for the journey, and then doesn’t bother to fasten his seatbelt. Misguided priorities, methinks.
Three hours along the road, and we find ourselves in a completely different environment. Warm – no, hot! – sunshine, people drinking wine at outdoor tables, we can walk at pace without getting breathless, we can sit and drink beer without wearing a coat. Good grief, there’s even people in shorts! From the freezing mountains to a Mediterranean style temperate climate in three hours. It feels so good, a bit like the first day of a holiday. Our 3-week high altitude experience has been more than magical and has provided many what will be lifelong memories, but coming “back down to Earth” is feeling good right now.
36 Comments
Lookoom
I’d done the Sucre-Potosi-Uyuni route in the opposite direction and like you I preferred to switch from the bus to the chauffeur-driven car, which allows for stops on the road, whereas the bus doesn’t stop.
A visit to the Potosi mine is a rare experience, giving an insight into the harsh reality of many people’s lives.
Phil & Michaela
Not half! Harsh reality for sure, they have a seriously hard life for such little reward. Hard to imagine coming from somewhere like the UK. People don’t know how lucky they are.
Monkey's Tale
It’s heartbreaking isn’t it to see the conditions they work in down there. But we kind of liked the rough edges of Potosi,the town not the mine. Not as much as Sucre, as I’m sure you’ve already fallen in love with 😊
Phil & Michaela
We liked Potosi too but yes Sucre is something special. As for the miners, God they have a tough time of it. Seriously hard work for such little reward, and in danger every day.
Toonsarah
This looks like such a fascinating and unique experience, but yes,scary! I can just imagine how glad you were to get down to lower altitudes. We’ve never done more than a week, which was enough for me!
Phil & Michaela
Such harsh working conditions, Sarah. We were kind of expecting a bit of a touristy half-view, but got a dose of brutal reality! Which of course made it a much more worthwhile excursion, though not if you are a bit claustrophobic or restricted in movement!
The Flask Half Full
My GOD you two are brave! Or crazy. There is no amount of Xanax that would convince me to go down into a mine. NOPE. I might have had a sip of the firewater, though. 😉 Mad respect to the men and women who do this work. It’s a brutal existence.
Phil & Michaela
Definitely crazy, out of the two 😂. Yep, it was a real eye opener, didn’t expect quite such a brutal exposure to their reality. But of course it was also so stimulating, we do love different types of experiences on our travels, that’s for sure.
Steven and Annie Berger
Thanks for the mine tour. We skipped it because of my lung issues and I always wondered what it really was like.
Steve
Phil & Michaela
Brutal, Steve. What a hard life huh…for so little reward, whilst others make fortunes out of their hard labour. Ever was thus I suppose.
Helen Devries
I’d like to have seen Potosi, having read of it as the motor of spanish imperial expansion……and you’ve made the history come to life for me.
Phil & Michaela
The Spanish influence is very evident, Helen, throughout the attractive centre, which makes it a very pleasing city in spite of its industrial nature.
restlessjo
You two have some very strange claims to fame, Phil. I half admire but am mostly appalled at the things you do for the sake of a new experience. I’m afraid you might find Portugal a sore disappointment. It’s not nearly exciting enough! xx
Phil & Michaela
Appalled?! Blimey.. Well we kind of think that new experiences are all part of wanderlust and the love of travel. Little point in going to different cultures if you always do the same things, surely? Knocking the comfort zone is part of the joy, but of course we’re very aware that it’s not for everyone. Portugal a disappointment? I think that’s highly unlikely Jo…good food, good wine, beautiful country, great weather…..sounds like the perfect next adventure to us 😁
restlessjo
It’s not just different cultures, though- it’s extremities, with a hint of danger. I was only thinking that Portugal is tame in comparison. The high altitude thing is potentially life threatening. But you two obviously think alike in seeking out challenges and I’m sure you balance that with the more mundane. Life’s for living, after all…xx
Phil & Michaela
Sure is. We’re very lucky to be so like minded. But Jo you can be assured that we love chill time too. I write this response in a cracking bar, in a remote and beautiful village, knowing we have nothing on tomorrow’s agenda 😄😄
restlessjo
Rest hard, play hard! xx
WanderingCanadians
I am one of those people who have never heard of Potosi before. Interesting to learn more about its history and how it was one of the richest cities in the world. Such an interesting experience to go into the working mine, which looks rather primitive and terrifying. Tough life indeed. Damn, 96% proof. They aren’t playing around.
Phil & Michaela
They have seriously tough lives in so many ways
Suzanne@PictureRetirement
You guys certainly have an appetite for the unusual. Once again, not my cup of tea, but an enjoyable read, although quite sobering. Stay safe out there, dear people. We are off to a much tamer environment at the end of the month – Toronto, where we won’t be climbing mountains or diving into mines. We will live that part vicariously through you two.
Phil & Michaela
I guess we do. Wasn’t quite expecting quite such an exposure to their brutal lives, mind you. This one was quite a raw experience in several ways. Never in a million years would such a dangerous tour be allowed back home!
leightontravels
You were right on both counts: I had never of Potosi and yeah, what an amazing history. It has some really charming buildings (love the blue ones). Massive props to the pair of you for braving those mines and getting stuck in, what a fabulous, priceless experience – you guys are really living life. I think it’s really important to sometimes get a taste for how different (and indeed extreme) other people have it in ways we couldn’t otherwise imagine.
Phil & Michaela
Yes, absolutely, bud. It was certainly a more brutal window on their world than we expected. Even the tour wouldn’t be allowed in the UK, let alone the working conditions.
Alison
It looks like a film set at first. The buildings are well preserved. Shame about the dog doodoo! The mine looks fascinating, so sad a life for those miners, such horrific conditions. Very interesting read. I’ve been following along on FB.
Phil & Michaela
Hi Ali, I’ve been thinking about you and wondering how things are. Is he over it now? Hoping so….
Alison
Hi Phil
Still sadly in hospital receiving treatment
Coming home for the odd afternoon ..a bit of light at the end of the tunnel
Phil & Michaela
Oh dear, that’s not good at all. A horribly difficult time you’re all having. Sending hugs and best wishes.
Alison
Thanks Phil ☺️
grandmisadventures
You’re right- I had never heard of Potosi until your post, but what a fascinating place to explore with you! What an experience to see the mining history and culture up close like that- although I think it would also make me very grateful to work above ground. 🙂
Phil & Michaela
And grateful that our working lives aren’t so unforgivingly brutal huh
Diana
Wow, what an experience! I can’t imagine working those hours and that much hard labor. It really makes you think about where the materials we use every day come from and all the work that goes into it. Thanks for sharing this tour!
Phil & Michaela
Yes that’s a good point, Diana…sometimes we don’t think of the hard lives behind our everyday goods, do we. Didn’t quite expect such raw exposure to brutal conditions but nevertheless it was a fabulous experience.
Annie Berger
Steven and I spent a couple of nights in Potosi, Phil, but his asthma prevented us from going down the mine. Your story of the horrific conditions there sounds like we dodged a bullet. Happy that you got back down to Earth, and enjoyed a cafe culture after a three-hour taxi ride. Your posts have brought some fabulous memories – thank you.
Phil & Michaela
It was a very interesting visit, Annie, and not at all what we expected. Good to get through the high altitude bit without too many issues too.
wetanddustyroads
Thank you for taking us underground – it looks like very hard work (in harsh conditions). I assume this is the one job where you don’t have to take an alcohol test before and while you are on your shift …
Phil & Michaela
Indeed not! What a brutal existence those people have..