The Death of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

"Mornin, sheriff. I reckon I seen them there two boys you's looking for. I was gatherin cactus wood..."

"down by Porta del Diablo..."

"you know, past the yellow, green, blue and red mountains...

"when I seen me two men ridin past.

There was somethin mighty familiar about them and then I remembered the wanted notice you had, down by the jail house. It was them allright. That Butch and that Sundance kid."

"Well, I decided to follow them like, and they went up that red canyon..."

"past those red rocks that look like something peculiar. I can't recollect what they reminded me of though."

"Anyhow, so up the canyon these two went and then they dismounted right at the end, near the stream."

"I reckon they're holding camp there pretty permanent like. You go get them two thieving sons of guns now!"

Well this may not have been the way Butch and Sundance were discovered, but it certainly is a fact that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid robbed their last wagemoney and consequently made their last and unsuccessful stand right here in Tupiza, Southern Bolivia. Maybe they were homesick, since a better setting for tall tales and Westerns is hard to imagine.

So I'm back in Bolivia! Craggy mountains of incredible hues - deep red to blue and green - ring the city of Tupiza, perched by a polluted and increasingly dry riverbed. 

The night bus to the border of Argentina and Bolivia left me sleepless and a bit green around the gills. Not the fault of the bus itself, but I never know if I manage to sleep on night buses or not. In this case not. Compared to the border between Chile and Argentine (which took a legendary 2 hours to cross, though our bus was the only vehicle at the border when we arrived) this one was a model of efficiency and smooth running. 

I was surprised a couple of times in Argentina how that, the most Western of countries visited so far, managed to be so disorganized in some things e.g. at border crossing - or even reprinting bills when they became too worn out. In Bolivia if a bill was torn and had a bit of sticky tape on it, it was nearly impossible to get people to accept it. Whereas in Argentina I saw people using prodigeous amounts of sticky tape to mold an indistinct pile of fluff into something resembling a 10 peso note. I don't think Butch and Sundance would have been too impressed if the last wagemoney they robbed (USD 90.000) had been in Argentinian peso notes. (The note below isn't even one of the most scruffy ones, only happens to be the only one I have on me).

Another anomaly in Argentina was the blue market for money exchange, which ran riot. Whereas the US dollar is officially 8 pesos, you could get it changed at street corners for 12-13 pesos. Euros were likewise overvalued. This worked for me as it made my stay in Argentina about a third cheaper than it would otherwise have been. But one does wonder where all that cash is going...?