Hola Chicos! To follow on from last post we headed on what was supposed to be a 7 hr bus from Uyuni to Potosi, the highest city in the world. About 25 minutes out of Uyuni on a steep hill the bus ground to a halt. I looked out the window and saw about 5 buses lined up as on the corner a diesel tanker had almost tipped over and diesel was spilling all over the road. There were people milling everywhere, including about 50 school kids. We wandered up the hill just in time to see a 50+ seater bus attempt to come down the hill off road to avoid the accident. The hill was bloody steep, there was a massive ditch filled with rocks at the bottom and about 30 kids on board. Needless to say the bus hit the ditch with a massive grinding, ripping sound and went no further. The next two hours were spent jacking the bus up, placing rocks underneath and towing it out. The bus had a fairly good lean going on with about 20 kids standing below it and another 30 on board. Absolutely insane. I wandered up the road with an old Bolivian man who befriended me to check out what was happening with the tanker. What a bloody schmozzle. The truck was propped up with jacks balancing on rocks on top of 44 gallon drums; another tanker had backed into it to attempt to stop it falling over further; about 5 men were trying to start a tiny pump and a man was sitting on top of the tanker trying to soak up the spilling diesel with rags which he then squeezed into a bucket. Only in South America.
I wandered back down in time to see the bus successfully pulled out (sans a few parts), there was an almighty cheer, all the kids piled on and off they went limping down the hill. At the top of the hill was a second bus from the same company waiting to attempt the same track. I thought after the disaster from the first attempt there was absolutely no way he was going to give it a crack but no, off he went, a bus full of kids and undoubtedly his heart in his throat. The exact same thing happened and it was back to digging. Again, only in South America.
We were delayed about 3 hours before finally getting back on the road. With such a 'short' bus ride we hadn't packed any food and there was no toilet. Crossing your legs for three hours over bumpy Bolivian dirt roads is not my favorite way to spend an afternoon but unfortunately is something I've become accustomed to lol. We ended up stopping at a tiny ramshackle village where I gratefully used the foulest toilet in South America (payment required naturally) and bravely tucked into a plate of dodgy looking local cuisine. I got back on the bus and Brendan and I agreed it was probably a 50/50 shot of food poisoning. Thankfully we arrived bellies intact and spent a lovely couple of days having some R and R in Potosi. The boys did a tour of the local mines which are famous for the amount of people who have died working there and the abhorrent conditions they work in. Many workers die within ten years of working due to inhaling silica dust. The tour was reportedly amazing and confronting and the boys were really pleased to have gone.
Potosi was a nice town but wasn't a place to stay for long. We bused to La Paz (Capital of Bolivia) from Potosi where we spent three days. La Paz is huge, dirty, and busy. It was definitely my least favorite city so far, which probably had something to do with the altitude and the punishing night life. Altitude knocks you around. You puff just tying up your shoes and the three story climb to our dorm felt like trekking to base camp. One of us would venture down for something and arrive back at the room unable to speak due to breathlessness. There is actually an inhouse oxygen bar to help people overomealtitude sickness.
Dave and I decided to venture out to check out La Paz's night life (which is epic) on our first night, which may not have been the greatest idea I´ve ever had. We met some locals who we partied with and stumbled home at some ungodly hour. I spent the entire next day in bed with the worst hangover of my life. ALTITUDE HANGOVERS ARE MEAN! The next day the guys biked down the world’s most dangerous road, so named for the level of fatalities (including at least 18 people doing the ride). I was still a little ill so I didn’t think it was a good idea which was inspired by stories of a girl’s death two months earlier after losing concentration and going off the cliff. I was disappointed to miss it but illness was self inflicted so no pity required. They all survived and had a fantastic time and you will no doubt see them sporting death road t-shirts to prove it.
We flew out the next day to Rurrenabaque in the Amazon basin where we were booked to do a 3 days pampas tour and 2 day jungle our. We climbed on a tiny plane and flew an hour to Rurrenabaque before bouncing down on a grass run way. When we exited the plane the heat, humidity and lack of altitude brought an immediate smile to my face. Bliss! We were greeted by motor bike taxi drivers wanting us to climb on the back of bikes with 20 kilo back pack on our backs and day packs on front. One sharp corner and the weight of my pack would have sent us both flying so we all opted for the bus instead.
I was grinning like an idiot the entire bus trip into town as we passed lush green paddocks, palm trees and people walking in shorts and t-shirts. For the first time in 2 months I really felt like I was on holiday. Whilst I have technically been on holiday for two months now, at times it is by no means a leisurely lifestyle. Altitude, cold weather, language difficulties and generally having absolutely no idea where I am or where anything is can be tiring. Combine that with constantly being on the move, mammoth treks, upset stomachs and dodgy sleep patterns - I often feel I need a holiday from my holiday.
We checked into our hostel, stripped off into shorts, singlet’s and thongs (woo hoo!!!) and went and had a beautiful fish dinner. I love Rurrenabaque. The town is small and has a fantastic atmosphere; small beach town feel sans beach! At night all the stores are open and locals sit on chairs in the streets watching the teenagers with their girlfriend’s on the backs of their motorbikes doing laps. We all felt a little revived I think after two months of puffer jackets and altitude and spirits were high.
We left for our pampas tour the following morning. We had met a lovely English couple Dave and Teresa and an Irish girl Irene in La paz and luckily they were on our tour. We all piled into a very bloody old land cruiser with troop carrier seats and drove 3 hours along the bumpiest roads I’ve come across so far to our starting point on the river. It’s become a running joke that we get the runts of the vehicle litter. We were constantly passed by modern land cruisers doing about twice our speed.
We loaded up our gear into the boat and headed for the three hr drive up river. After about ten minutes we started seeing Caimans and Alligators on the banks and all took about a million photos. After three hours of seeing hundreds of the buggers the camera’s had a rest for a while. We arrived at our ‘lodge’ which was a series of basic huts on the high banks of the river in the early evening. We had a fantastic meal, and sat down to play cards. There was an obnoxious, drunk, very loud guy on the next table who was also unfortunately, Australian. He was carrying on all night, chanting and just being a general twat. We had a disagreement over some cards of ours he borrowed and then proceeded to throw across the room in a game of 52 pick up. There is nothing worse when you’re travelling and the knob in the room is a fellow countryman. Anyway the next day he could barely lift his head at breakfast which made us all smile.
We donned gumboots and headed out into the pampas with Roberto. The pampas is a massive open swamp of sorts with amazing insect and bird life. Roberto asked us to all spread out and look for Anaconda’s in the thigh deep water we were wading through. What?!!! At first I was just bloody praying I didn’t come anywhere close to an anaconda, but after a while I actually got into it and wanted to find one. After tramping through foul smelling swamp for an hour or so a guide form another group found one and we all headed over to have a look. Not nearly as large as I would have imagined (or the movies depict) but a beautiful snake. Only the guides were allowed to touch the snake as the repellent and sunscreens on our skin poison the snake if we make contact. Have to admit was not overly put out!
That afternoon we went up river to see if we could find pink dolphins and swim with them. We were seeing Caimans everywhere and I knew there were Piranhas in the river and I was thinking there is no way I am getting in that water. Anyone that knows me well knows I seem to have an irrational fear of being eaten by water dwelling creatures. Despite this when we arrived Caz, Dave and I jumped in with some other slightly mad tourists. Pretty nervy bloody swim and fairly brief but a lovely respite from the heat. After getting back in the boat we cruised up stream and saw a massive caiman about 30m from where we had been swimming. Hmmm.
On the way home we stopped at a local lodge and volleyball court on the banks of the river for a beer and to watch the sunset. Beautiful! That evening after dinner when we suggested going to a bar up river for a beer run, Roberto offered to take us instead to a local’s birthday party he wanted to go to. We piled in the boat and cruised about 15 minutes down river to a lodge where all the guides, drivers, cooks etc had gathered to celebrate one of the guide’s birthdays. What an amazing night! The guys formed a band and sang and played salsa music all night. They were fantastic and soon had us up salsa dancing. Dancing in rolled up cargo pants and thongs on a wooden hut floor does not inspire gracefulness but I had an absolute ball and danced all night. My partner for most of the evening was a young guy called Juan Carlo who could shake his ass like Shakira and in typical South American fashion was adept at whispering sweet nothings designed to entice romance. Juan Carlo was sadly unsuccessful but I imagine he has been successful with many a female tourist before me! I was very impressed by his ability to multi task as traditionally this is only a female trait.
Roberto had told us we would be heading back at 11pm initially. At 2.30am Caz and I decided that Roberto was thoroughly sauced and perhaps it was time to round up the guys and head home. We all piled like sacks of potatoes into the boat (miraculously no one went overboard in to the mouth of a waiting Caiman) and Roberto cast us off. As we cruised down river in the pitch black, Caz and I aimed our head torches at opposite banks to try to give Roberto some kind of bearing. Our torches I was sorry to see lit up thousands of red eyes. Caimans were out feeding and were EVERYWHERE. One tight corner and I decided we were going way too fast. I told Roberto to slow down and was met by a giggle and ‘it’s okay amigos!’ I told Roberto in no uncertain terms it was not okay and my mother would be most displeased if my sister and I were eaten by Caimans. I could see the headlines: “7 tourists and Bolivian guide missing in Amazon basin. Crashed boat discovered and several inebriated Caimans observed asleep belly up on banks near by. Search continues”.
He did slow down marginally but Caz and I who were the most sober of the group had a pretty nervy trip home. The next morning we went fishing for Piranha. We loaded our hooks with chunks of a non-descript meat (probably Llama) and within a split second of dropping the meat in you could see the whip of a Piranha tail as it attacked the hook. These things are vicious and surprisingly difficult to catch! They nibble delicately around the hook, often successfully absconding with their prize. A few of us caught one and I was thrilled to reel mine in (when I say reel, we had a piece of line attached to a chunk of wood) As the photo will no doubt show I was very pleased with myself and wanted to keep my little buddy as a little housewarming gift for Anna and James in London. I could just picture him in a bowl on the mantle performing all manner of party tricks for dinner guests. I decided customs may have may have been somewhat of a problem and reluctantly allowed Roberto to let him go.
In the afternoon we bid a sad farewell to the camp and headed back down river. It was a beautiful afternoon and the wildlife was out in force. About 20 minutes from our destination the boat suddenly stopped. While Roberto was trying to start the motor I was watching Caimans on the bank opposite head into the water and disappear. You start to feel a little vulnerable! Roberto worked for a while and then declared it was kaput and climbed out to start finding branches we could use as paddles. Bloody hell! We paddled down river with branches while the Caimans and Alligators looked on with interest. It was hot, hard but hilarious and a great end to the trip. We ended up being rescued by a boat coming up river and towed back. We climbed back into the jeep and had another 3 hr bumpy ride back to Rurrenabaque. We all agreed it was an amazing trip and the departures from the traditional schedule (random parties, broken down boats) made it all the more memorable. The next day we were to head on our jungle tour but the post is becoming another war and peace sized piece of prose so I will go now and fill you in later! Adios!
