Tupiza is a small town. We arrived into its bus station around 7.30-8am. It doesn't take long to find a hostel. After last nights adventures I bed down to get some sleep. When I wake up and head down towards reception I'm put sitting down by one of them women who run the hostel and given a rundown on the tours and activities on offer here. Unfortunately the costs are dependent on the size of the participating group. Its very quiet here so I'm the only person intierested in some of the activities and so the cost is too high for my budget.Tupiza is a quiet, dusty little town. The surrounding countryside is beautiful with purple coloured hills on all sides. I will spend two days here but I don't do much other than walk around the streets. To do or not to do the Uyuni tour is the nagging question in my mind. I've been mulling over this for a number of days now to the point that its beginning to stress me. Eventually I decide not to do it in favour of heading South into Argentina to visit Salta and Mendoza. In an internet cafe I find a cheap flight from Auckland to Tonga and decide to book it instead.
The highlight of my time here is a small family restaurant I discover in a street just off the main Plaza. I visited the place three times. The second time I went the owner came up and asked me to check the spelling and phrasing of a large sign he has had printed for the front of the restaurant. I also have to check the spelling and suggest alternative phrasing for another sign he wants produced as he's adding a bar to the back of the restaurant. Its a small homely place. All the family chip in with the operation and the food is great. All the food I request is Italian and each time its delicious. I call in on Saturday night for a pizza and a beer and I end up staying into the small hours drinking whiskey with the family and a couple of locals. At some point a bottle of Jameson appears on the table. Its a little gesture of respect and hospitality from the hosts which I appreciate greatly. The wife, who is a typically portly Bolivian woman, appeared quite sullen on my first visits to the place, but this evening as she is getting used to me ordering from the menu has become very friendly and pleasant. While I eat my pizza she conducts an interview on a local radio station to advertise the place. The interview is broadcast live on the radio as she stands in the middle of the restaurant floor speaking into a mobile phone as guests eat their meals beside her. Her husband chats to me and asks if I will send pictures, music and menus from Ireland when I get home. How could I refuse?
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