I’ve made it to Bolivia.
It only required I:
a) Get a cab from my hotel... Stupidly, I thought my hotel might call me a cab (silly me, where would I ever get this idea) With my broken Spanish the guy behind the desk was aware that a ¨taxi¨ was something I was interested in...so he repeatedly told me that they pass by all the time, even at 6:30am... well, the girl behind the desk wasn’t much more of a help, she told me to go down to the corner...finally I did just that and believe it or not I was able to catch a cab, granted it was a pedi-cab. Well, I’m pretty sure my bag and I out weighted my driver and his cab, seeing as when I sat down his back wheel came off the ground.
While he was uselessly attempting petty conversation with me, I decided to pay him 5 soles instead of the 3 we agreed on, because he was having such difficulty moving our contraption forward. Arriving at the bus station required that I:
b) Figure out which one of the 20 busses was mine. Thinking I could show my ticket and ask ¿La Paz? I tried just that. Yep, it didn’t really work. I did figure out that I needed to pay a departure tax. Then found out I was to go to gate 2... well, it doesn’t matter what gate (think doorway to the back lot) you leave from, they all lead to the same big bus parking lot. 1st person told me to go around the corner... well the man there told me to go back to where I had found person 1. The next woman directed me back to the 2nd man... and finally I just started looking for other confused travelers I could bond with. Maybe we could all figure this out on our own. Finally I did find the big red bus, which would take me to Copacabana on the Bolivian border of Lake Titicaca.
c) Legally exit Peru. Doing my best imitation of a lemming, I followed all the other passengers to 2 different buildings in Peru. Building number one apparently existed to get my visa (think small sheet of white paper I wasn’t aloud to loose) stamped, and the second building (which I almost missed having not understood a word the bus company man said. Thanks to my herd instinct I just followed the other tourists) to get the visa taken away and receive an exit stamp.
d) Legally enter Bolivia. Surprisingly easy. Handed my passport to the man with the stamp...never glancing at me, he stamped it and handed it back. Wow, that went well.
e) Find my way to the new bus in Copacabana (apparently the place where all the Latin American hippies go to retire) Hour lay over... and surprise a different bus. Lots of fun wandering around a small beach town with 2 backpacks for an hour, then again having the problem of not knowing which bus is mine. Found it though. A working knowledge of Spanish would be handy.
f) Figuring out how the hell to find my hostel. It turns out the bus just stopped in the middle of La Paz. Not really at a bus station, of course there aren’t really any street signs, not that that would have helped all that much. Ended up finding a taxi (probably paying him 4 times as much as I should have, but I was just happy he was actually a legit taxi and not some scam)
g) Attempting to check in with a mixture of English, Spanish, and French (believe it or not, even a combination of three didn’t really work) It ended with me just repeating my name over and over, saying “tengo resevation” and smiling a lot.
And dinner, who needs dinner after that? Kick back in the lobby, watch a little soccer with two English guys, run across the street and pick up some cereal, yogurt, and orange juice...
Welcome to Bolivia.
