From La Paz, our plan was to head to Rurrenabaque in the Amazon to do a Pampas tour. Like most touristy attractions in South America, there are tons of companies to choose from - all basically offering the same experience, but differing in quality of lodging, transportation, and food. We decided to book our tour once we arrived in Rurrenabaque.
From La Paz, there are three ways to get to Rurrenabaque. There's a 45 minute plane ride, a cool experience since you begin around 3,800 meters (14,4p00 feet) and fly down to about 400 meters (1,200 feet.) Except for the take off, the plane basically glides down the entire time. This is also the most expensive option, costing 600 Bolivianos - or $85 USD - each way.
The next option is to book a private jeep, which depending on your group, costs about 350 Bolivianos ($50 USD) per person round trip.
The last option is the bus. The bus costs 90 Bolivianos ($13 USD.) The South American backpacker's bible "South America on a Shoestring" estimates that the bus journey can take anywhere from 18 hours to 3 days. Despite several warnings AGAINST taking the bus, in a moment of temporary insanity, I let Mark convince me that taking the bus wouldn't be that bad and we'd be saving tons of money.
Sinead had gone to bike Death Road that day, and left us her passport telling us that she "trusted us" to plan the journey. I can almost guarantee she'll never let me plan anything on my own ever again.
Our other companion, Mona, had no idea what she was getting herself into, either. Sinead and I had met Mona on our Machu Picchu trek and were happy to run into her at the Wild Rover in La Paz. She had also wanted to go to Rurrenabaque and decided to come along.
Coming from Peru, where buses are comfortable and clean, I couldn't fathom that the bus would really be as bad as everyone had said. I'd been on a 24 hour bus before... I could do it again. But I had yet to experience a Bolivian bus ride.
Despite knowing everything we knew, we booked the bus for 11am the next day. After incessantly badgering Mark to go to the grocery store to get food for our journey, he finally relented. His original plan was to get on the bus with "a packet of crisps [potato chips] and a Sprite," and swore he'd be happy. My final argument that won him over was that I get very cranky when I'm hungry and since he'd be sitting next to me, this was really something that would benefit both of us.
We went to the market and bought our food for the next day. I bought the food for girls and Mark bought his own. For the three girls, I bought 12 sandwich rolls, a jar of strawberry jam, a box of granola bars, two liters of strawberry drinkable yogurt (which we shared with Mark), a pack of pringles and two of our favorite candy bars. Mark bought 5 rolls, 5 pieces of ham and 5 pieces of cheese - despite knowing it would be a hot bus ride and there would, obviously, be no refrigeration - not that he cared. He didn't even plan on refridgerating the meat or cheese overnight before we left, swearing that after 11 months of travel his stomach was strong enough to handle it. Ultimately, I forced him to refridgerate it at the hostel telling him that since I would be sitting next to him on a bus with no bathroom, I wasn't willing to take the risk of him with a dodgy stomach for no less than 18 hours. (By the half way part of the ride, Mark's ham was an interesting shade of violet and his cheese had melted into one runny ball.)
Since we had heard that the companies don't always honor your seat assignments, we arrived an hour early to make sure we at least were sitting together.
When we arrived at the bus office, we were told that the bus did not, in fact, leave at 11 despite being printed clearly on the ticket, but that it left at 12 instead.
With a bit of time to spare, we went to find some food and went back to the bus station. We were told we could sit in the "waiting room," an empty room with a concrete floor. As soon as we sat down, Mark put his hand in an unidentified sticky liquid... We were obviously off to a good start.
At noon, when the bus was supposed to leave, they began to load the cargo onto the top of the bus. I have no idea what was in the 4 feet by 3 feet plastic box/bags they were loading onto the top of the bus, all I do know is that there were tons of them and they were extremely heavy. This took at least another hour.
As they were loading the bus, we were finally allowed on. We climbed aboard, found our seats, and as we sat down a cloud of brown dust surrounded us as it was forced.out of our seat covers by the weight of.our bodies.
The front of the bus advertised TV, DVD, and air conditioning. Shockingly they didn't follow through on any of the three. Though there was one TV at the front of the bus, the screen was missing. In its place was a plant, and I'm pretty sure that if we had concentrated on watching it, we would have seen it grow during our bus ride. Talk about entertainment.
Bolivians are very good at creating their own entertainment though, and I'd especially like to thank the man three rows diagonally in front of me who brought a good, old fashioned, boom box from which he blasted all of his favs for the whole bus and that he insisted on controlling with a remote even though it was on his lap and he could rest his hands on it. I can only assume that the rest of the bus loved listening to this man's top 24 hours worth of hits as much as the four of us did. I'd also like to thank the woman who gave her two sons (that she was NOT sitting with) a box of 1,000 matches to play with. Excellent parenting, A+. A perfect gift for ten and twelve year old boys stuck in an enclosed location for 24 hours, and not worrisome at all for the others around you.
There was one more advertisement on the front of the bus: "Your adventure starts here." That part couldn't have been more true.
We spent another hour sitting on the bus. I remember telling Mark that if we didn't leave by 2, I was getting off the bus and booking a flight.
Luckily the bus pulled away with eight minutes to spare. We were off.
We didn't make it very far. Within the first few minutes Mark and I heard a knock on our window. We looked to the right and saw a pair of dangling legs. Mark opened the window and a man started to climb in. We got up to move and let him in, but he told us not to worry and climbed right over us. Apparently the cargo on top of the bus got stuck on the electricity wires above us. This happened no less than three times in the VERY slow hour it took us to get out of La Paz.
We were the ONLY gringos on the bus. The bus was packed. Not only was every seat taken, but there were families of four crammed into two seats and children who didn't have seats at all, spending the entire journey laying in the aisle.
The entire trip was less than 200 miles. The roads are just so terrible, oand the bus broke down so frequently that it took FOREVER. At one point we looked out the window as Mark pointed out to us "look girls, that bird is flying faster than us." He wasn't even joking.
In the end, the journey took 24 hours. For the first two hours we were in good spirits, even joking at points. "Well ladies, it could be worse. At least we paid for first class. Imagine what it would be like in second class," Mark said, referring to the facts that at least we had seats. For the last 22 hours, we weren't exactly happy campers.
The road was a very narrow, one lane, unpaved road. At points you couldn't see the edge of the road when looking out the window, just straight down the cliff. At this point half the bus would stand up and go to look out the window. Just what the bus needed, more weight leaning over the cliff.
Though the road was one lane, the traffic was two ways and when you got to a point where you met oncoming traffic there was typically a standoff until the smaller vehicle backed up far enough for the larger vehicle to go around. South American driving is a bit like playing chicken... On a narrow road with thousand foot cliffs.
The road was extremely windy and since you can't see oncoming traffic, drivers beep their horn to alert other drivers who may be coming around the bend. Safety first we always joke about South American standards.
The bus was miserably hot at night. It wreaked of urine and sweat. You could open the window for fresh air and "natural air conditioning," we joked, but this also included clouds of dust being pummeled at your face every couple minutes. When we finally went to sleep that night, Mark and I hung our glasses on the line for the window curtains. When we woke up the next morning, the glass was opaque... caked in a layer of dust.
We stopped occasionally for bathroom breaks. I don't even want to start to explain the "facilities" that were available... partly for your sake, but mainly because I'm not (and don't think I'll ever be) able to relive the horror. Imagine the worst bathroom you've ever seen, then multiply it by 100. Keep in mind that IF you were lucky, you could pay for toilet paper.
The bus broke down no less than six times, the first being within an hour of when we left. At other times, the bus just stopped for no reason. At one point we were stuck for two hours while a construction crew paved AND waited for the road in front of us to dry. Why would you ever pave just one side of the road so that traffic could continue when you can pave BOTH sides at once? True geniuses here in Bolivia, folks.
The worst part was never knowing.where we were. Twenty hours in... Were we almost there or half way? We had no way of knowing.
I guess, ultimately, we can consider ourselves lucky that the bus was only 24 hours. The people who had come back to our hostel the day before said their ride was 36 hours.
In the end, we came out with a good story, and miraculously, we all remained friends, bonded together by the same traumatic nightmare forever ingrained in our memories. And in the end, isn't it all about the journey and not the destination?
Nonetheless, after checking into our hostel and dropping our bags, the first thing we did upon arriving in Rurrenabaque was book our FLIGHT back to La Paz after our Pampas tour.
Photos
1: Loading the bottom of the bus
2: Us in the "waiting room" TWO afters after the bus was supposed to leave. See how excited.we are already...
3: The decorative ceiling
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