Bolivia - Chaos
Day 297: Sunday January 9th 2005. Made the border crossing with minimum of fuss, which was lucky, as we had overstayed our visa by a day. A few smiles were exchanged with the customs guys, and we were through without a fine. Got off the bus in Copacabana.
Day 298: Monday January 10th 2005. I must have ate something dodgy - either that, or I'm suffering from altitude sickness. Was in bed all day - rough with the smooth! It turns out we are stuck here, as there is some sort of transport strike going on in La Paz...
Day 299: Tuesday January 11th 2005. Despite being told there was no transport to La Paz, we caught a colectivo (minibus) bound for the capital. The views over lake Titicaca en-route were breathtaking. I could only get shots from the minibus as we were moving:
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| lake Titikaka |
We got to the outskirts of La Paz, and pulled into a petrol station were there were another 3 or 4 minibuses. It turns out there was a blockade half a mile down the road where protestors were stopping all traffic and turning it back. As we watched, a motorbike tried to get through the blockade, and was chased off the road and into a field by a group of stone throwing locals.
We had two choices - get back in the minibus and return to Copacabana, or try to walk the (unknown) remaining distance to La Paz. There was a large group of Argentineans from one of the other minibuses, plus a couple of Europeans who decided there was safety in numbers, and so we joined them for the walk. The only information we had was that there were 5 blockades, and that there were taxis at the other side.
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| road blocks |
Not too happy about actually having to do some real backpacking at such a serious altitude (4200M), we set off with all our gear on our backs. The first blockade let us through, with a minimum of fuss and jeering. Aaron was the only one on the receiving end of any threatening behaviour, not that he seemed too concerned about people waving planks of wood in his face. We continued through the next blockade, and the next, where each one seemed a little less tense than the next. We were getting laughed and jeered at, but that seemed to be all. We walked and walked for hours, not stopping because we didn't want to get separated. The pain in my shoulders was getting bad, and my legs were turning to jelly. At one barricade we had to cross a water filled drainage ditch, where I lost my footing and slipped into the water, grazing my knee. This raised another jeer from the locals, so I gave them a bow, just to keep it 'laughy jokey'. We eventually stopped as a group for a break, in-between blockades. It was becoming obvious that there were far, far more than 5 blockades, and that the chances of finding any sort of transport in the near future were practically non-existent.
As we got further into the city, it became apparent that we weren't even in La Paz proper yet, we were actually in the poorest suburb, namely El Alto. It also became apparent that there had been some sort of demonstration, on account of the broken glass and burnt tyres all over the road. We found a guy with a bicycle trailer, and offered him cash to carry our packs, which after nearly 4 hours of walking was a relief. The rest of the group soon followed suite, and hired a second trailer once the first was full. The trouble was, with the pain in my shoulders having been removed, I was suddenly aware of how painful my legs had become! Every time we reached the brow of a hill, another hill appeared behind it. Gruelling is the only word to describe it!
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| dumping the packs |
We walked for another hour, getting closer to the city. Night was starting to fall, and the Argentineans, who understood exactly what was being shouted at us, were starting to get really nervous. A few of the girls were in tears by this stage. Up ahead, we heard a lot of shouting and noise. We pulled the trailers into an alcove, and all stood in front of them to keep them from sight. Presently, a mob of locals came over the brow of the hill, making a lot of noise. As they neared, they all swerved towards us, shouting and generally looking threatening. The only word I could make out was 'collaborators'.
They came right up to us, looking really aggressive. The Argentineans started shouting that we were all Argentinean, and to leave us alone. Us Europeans just kept very quiet! Eventually, they left us be, but we were all getting really nervous by this stage. All of us except Aaron that is, who seemed blissfully unaware of the danger. He had been complaining of headaches and nausea, and so I think the altitude sickness was affecting him.
Presently, we came to an army base, and a few of us who were headed for the airport decided to ask the army for a lift to the airport. The army boys seemed reluctant to help, but came good in the end. By the time that was all sorted out, it was properly dark, so the rest of us hurried on to La Paz.
We reached an area where the demonstrations had obviously been more frenetic, with lots of glass, rocks and burned tyres littering the road. We spotted some buses, and headed for them. They were all full, so we turned down a dark road, and followed signs for the motorway. Up ahead of us were rows of riot police, loads of them. We walked straight past them, doing our best to look harmless! Beyond them - blessed relief - we saw cars. And minibuses. And TAXIs!
We left the rest of the group, quickly got in a taxi, and headed for the best hotel in La Paz - a '5 star' hotel for about 18 quid a night, complete with 24 hour room service and a jacuzzi in the en-suite. We really felt like we deserved a bit of luxury. I can't remember the last time I felt that knackered! Later in the evening, Aaron proceeded to throw his guts up, further confirming the altitude sickness diagnosis.
The BBC news channel later on that evening gave us the full details of what was going on. The protest was about the government's removal of subsidies on petrol, and of the mismanagement of the water board by a French company. Funny, it just seemed to be an excuse for loads of Bolivians to make a lot of fuss, block the roads, and play football all day.
What a day! I suppose if you travel for long enough you are going to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The only other time I've had trouble travelling was in Jerusalem (translates to 'city of peace'). La Paz translates to 'the peace'. Moral of the story? Never visit a city where the name translates to anything to do with peace!
I would just like to say thanks to the Argentineans - I think the whole situation could have been a lot worse without you guys...
Day 300: Wednesday January 12th 2005. Made use of the pool, sauna and jacuzzi - 5 star backpacking!
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| Bright colours in the sky over La Paz |
Day 301: Thursday January 13th 2005. There was another demonstration today, which we watched from the roof. These guys really are whingers! It took a while to suss that the load bangs were nothing more than fireworks going off in the air just outside our windows. The whole issue is that the government is stopping petrol subsidies, because of the thriving black market in illegally exporting the subsidised petrol to neighbouring countries. The government can't afford it. The people aren't having it. I'm getting sick of it. In fact, they can keep their miserable country - I've been travelling too long to be bothered with this hassle... It's time for Brazil!
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| arriving | shouting and chanting | burning tyres |
Day 302: Friday January 14th 2005. Aaron has a football match he HAS to see on Saturday, so we're here for another couple of days. The Hotel is sweet though, especially now I have an Internet connection in the room...
Day 303: Saturday January 15th 2005. Liverpool lost, Aaron tries to remain composed! All that waiting for a defeat - sometimes football can entertain me - indirectly!
Day 304: Sunday January 16th 2005. Laundry, packing and preparing.
Day 305: Monday January 17th 2005. Took a flight to the border of Bolivia. It's so good to see palm trees and heat again - man La Paz was a miserable place! Got hassled into a Pantanal tour before we had even got out luggage! Got a lift to Carumba, Brazil and booked our tour, and bedded down for the night.