Well, the bus ride from Cusco to Bolivia was really only a taste of those to come. The guy we booked our ticket through in Peru assured us that it was a direct bus, straight from Cusco to La Paz (Bolivia's capital city). No changing, no waiting. So we got on the bus at 10pm, saw a guy James from our hostel there (he was going to Loki Hostel, La Paz too); Claire and I were sitting upstairs on the bus, and James downstairs. Normally on overnight buses, the driver turns the lights off so people can actually go to sleep, so I assumed this bus would be the same. By about midnight, i thought that, huh, they've probably just forgotten, so i'll go find someone to turn them off. So i went to the level downstairs to find that 1) the driver was in a blocked off and inaccessible area, and 2) the dowstaits level had lights off, and fully recliner, spacious seats!
Outraged, i stomped back upstairs, tied my scarf around my head in manner of a blindfold, and sent thoughts of rage to the driver (only semi-rage though, because he was the driver of the bus...). Then about 5am we arrived back at Puno, all off and a 2 hour wait in the freezing bus terminal for our next bus to arrive (luckily the shops were open, so we feasted on tea and chocolate oreo-type biscuits). Finally got on another bus at 7am, that was supposedly to go direct to La Paz (with a quick hop on, hop off at immigration at the border). About 2hrs later we arrived at the border, took off our bags, got our passports stamped and were ready to get back on the bus on the Bolivian side. Only we were then told that we werent to get on the big bus, but everyone was to get on a series of old, old mini-vans, with all our luggage tied to the roof. Was good to have James there to help us out.
So we all crammed into the mini-van for about an hour, then we stopped at a place called Copacobana. All off here, where we were to then get a proper bus to La Paz... in an hour. Oh, well there are nice restaurants here, why not have some lunch? Possibly a big scam to get our lunch money, but given a really yummy burger and juice cost about $AUD1, it wasnt so bad (Bolivia is the cheapest country by far).
Then finally onto another bus - and this one had seen better days (uphill, i think we did about 20km/hr). Then a couple of hours later we arrived at a lake, and all off the bus and onto a dinghy/boat to cross, whilst we all watched nervously as our bus was driven onto a pontoon thing and taken across the lake (all our luggage was on it, you see). Back on finally, and a few hours later we arrived in La Paz! (I yhink we were in transit for about 19 hours).
The next morning our friend Sarah arrived at our hostel (the girl we met in Arequipa) - she´d been in the Bolivian jungle and arrived back that morning. Well along her travels she´d been given a contact inside San Pedro Prison in La Paz (he was a South African guy named Daniel who´d been in the prison for 3 years for cocaine smuggling). He did tours inside the prison (have you read the book "Marching Powder"? Same deal as that). So we arranged to do a tour that day... and it was probably one of the most surreal experiences I´ve ever had, and one of my best travel moments.
We asked for Daniel once we were inside the prison, and were taken to his "cell". I use this word liberally. San Pedro prison (well, the safer part we were in anyway), could quite easily pass as a shabby hostel, complete with restaurants, grocery store, gymnasium, library and snooker room (where they had tournaments). They also had a big cement courtyard area where they played basketball, and there was a TV showing sports up on the wall outside. And the cells are like mini apartments, with lockable door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, TV, computer (with internet - Daniel just got facebook). And the only requirement of the inmates is to be at roll call at 7:30am every morning. The prison is also unbelievably corrupt; the guards require bribes for everything (we pay to do the tour, and the guards take most of it).
You also need money to survive in the prison - you arrive with nothing (no cell - you have to buy one or sleep in the courtyard), you need to buy food as well, and also fund your own court case. One way that inmates make their money is by making cocaine (the majority of the cocaine that is readily available in Bolivia comes from within the prison. I think the guards get a cut of the profits too, so turn a blind eye). Another oddity about the prison, is that a number of families of inmates live in the prison too (i.e. wife and kids). The families and children are well respected within the prison, and often the wives smuggle things in for their husbands.
So we met Daniel, an extremely scattered and honest guy, and hung out with him inside his room and also a tour of the prison (met some other inmates too) for about 4 hours. At first we were a bit shit scared (we were in a prison!) but after chatting a while we relaxed. Daniel was busted for attempting to smuggle cocaine into Bolivia (what he says was his first and only time doing it), and after 3 years in prison, was due out in another year. He told us of his marriage to a Bolivian woman whom he´d met whilst he was in prison (she was a friend of another inmate, and used to visit him, and met Daniel). They actually had a priest marry them inside the prison! He is also writing his own book about his life in prison - i think a lot of the inmates have seen the success of Marching Powder, and want a bit for themselves.
So after 4 hours we left the prison, completely blown away by the experience we´d just had.
The next night we took an overnight bus to Uyuni (a place about 12hrs south, which ran tours of the salt flats... will explain in a bit). So we got the bus down - breaking down temporarily (as i said when i was writing earlier entries on that bus trip), but finally made it, and booked onto a 3 day salt flats tour, leaving that morning. And what an experience that turned out to be! Oh boy... how to start this epic tale... So the salt flats tours are very popular - starting at the Bolivian town of Uyuni, and stretching down as far as Chile, are some of the most varied and beautiful landscapes you´ll ever see. So you head off in a jeep and go off-roading type thing across all the different terrain, staying in accommodation on the way, and being cooked food by the guide with a little kitchenette thing.
In our tour group, there was Claire, Sarah and I, an Aussie guy Andy, and a lovely Spanish couple Marta (girl) and Nester (guy). They were our saviour on this trip! The comedy of errors that was to be our tour began when our guide Franz arrived an hour late, then after several failed attempts of leaving the town (Franz forgot countless number of things, which included many trips back to the town. He also forgot his jumper, and given at night temperature could reach Ö degrees, we had to go back to his place and fetch it). Franz, um, was like a vague, dense puppy dog. You could see he wanted to do the best he could in things, but just didnt possess the capacity to do things well. He had this incredible ability to lack both commonsense and logic (e.g. spending half an hour watching lunch cook, then once all the hot food1s ready, he decides it1s time to wash the plates so we can use them. So by the time that1s done, the food is cold), which made him both sweet and incredibly frustrating all at the same time. He spoke no English (so thank god we had Marta and Nester to translate), he didnt know anything about the places we were seeing, he was 19 and had no driver1s licence etc...)
First on the stop was the incredible salt flats - kms and kms of what looked like snow, but was in fact salt. I dont know how they came to be like that, given Franz didnt know anything, but they were very cool. That night we stayed in a completely salt-made house - the house itself, the tables and chairs, the beds...really incredible. Had a really lovely night there, playing with local kids as well was really cool.
The following morning it was off to see the sun rise over the flats, before going back briefly to the salt house because Franz liked the daughter and wanted to have a crack/ask her out (we waited in the car). Day 2 was also beautiful - incredible lakes with flamingos, vast red desert (looked seriously like Mars), then that night we rocked up to our supposed accommodation (the only available for hours), to find out that our company hadnt actually booked us in, and we may not have been able to stay there (could1ve been a night in the jeep... with no heating...). Very angry all of us at this point, because we had also been promised wine, sleeping bags, warm clothes by our company, and were given none of it. Fortunately were able to stay the night there. The next morning we were up at 5am to see more sunrise, and it was FREEZING!!! We also broke down for the second time - all out to push - then going again, and to a natural thermal bath. Sounds beautiful, and it was, until we started getting bitten by water lice. So all out, and after breakfast it was to the Chilean border where we were to say goodbye to Marta and Nester (who were continuing onto Chile, whereas we were heading back to Uyuni to get our bus to La Paz that night). Fear gripped us, as Marta and Nester were the real guides of the tour, and our saviours, who provided logic to Franz. Nester1s last words were "goodluck". Yes indeedy. We all put on brave faces and told them we'd be fine.
An older Bolivian couple at the border were needing to get to Uyuni, so we agreed for them to get a ride back with us. Blessing, blessing, blessing. Started heading back to Uyuni, about 7 hours away, when we broke down, again. All out to push. Got it going, drove a bit further, then the jeep broke down again. Battery was screwed. Let me also mention that Franz had decided to take a short cut back to Uyuni, which meant a route that no other tour group would be driving down. After failed attempts of starting the jeep, managed to flag down a big truck, and them, Franz and our Bolivian passenger (I will refer to him as Bolivian Dad - we nicknamed them Bolivian Mum and Dad, because they were such a help to us) all tried to get the car going. Nada. The truck had a spare truck battery, but it didnt fit in the bonnet of the jeep properly. So... Bolivian Dad took over driving the jeep, and Franz sat INSIDE the bonnet of the car, holding in the battery. I kid you not. We drove like that for a few kms, until we managed to find some industrial plant where we could get help. So the car went in for supposed repairs, and for the next 3 hours we sat in the back and waited (Bolivian Mum organised lunch for us with whatever we had left - rice, tuna and tomato). Then it was about 3pm, and the jeep supposedly fixed. We needed to get back to Uyuni asap to make our bus, which was still 5 hours away, so we missed our entire 3rd day of sight-seeing. Not happy.
Back on the road, and all good for about 2 hours. Suddenly the steering wheel began smoking, so we all bounded out of the car. The car that, once the engine stopped, wouldnt start again. So out to push again, and worry of not getting back to Uyuni for our bus, now turned to fear of spending the night in the freezing jeep, in the middle of nowhere. Finally managed to get it going again, and on we drove, into the nighttime.
And then... the headlights began to dim, until they went out completely. And Franz stalled the car, so we broke down again. It finally started again, but the headlights wouldnt. So for the next 5 or so kms (to the nearest town), Bolivian Dad drove the jeep again, whilst Franz sat on the bonnet of the car again, using Claire's small torch as our headlights. Yes, a wee bit scary, when there was no track to follow, and couldnt tell where dips and edges were. Not to mention worry when the occasional car came the other way, that they might not see us and hit us. Yes, i gripped onto the seat in front of me, and said a little prayer (along lines of, please dont let me die on salt flats tour).
We finally made it to this timy town, and managed to stay in a "hostel", which looked like a converted orphanage. Franz assured us he'd fix the car, and we'd leave at 6am the next day.
Up at 6am, and the car was not working. Franz even asked us for money to call the tour company (yep, he had no mobile phone and no money for emergencies), and we were stuck for the next 4 hours in this town. Managed to buy some bread and some biscuits to eat for breakfast. Finally, after rage with Franz for just being Franz, a replacement vehicle with a replacement driver arrived to take us to Uyuni. And sadly, Bolivian Mum and Dad, after all their help, werent allowed on, and had to take a later bus.
Got back to Uyuni, raged at our tour company, demanded a full refund each, but they wouldnt budge, onlz giving us a third back each. Spent the day in Uyuni, got an overnight bus to La Paz, then straight onto another bus to Cusco (our flight heading north to Ecuador was actually from Cusco). So we spent another 2ó hours on buses, and arrived, exhausted, in Cusco about 11pm.
From here, we got a flight from Cusco to a northern Peruvian town Tumbes, where we were to cross into Ecuador...
