After we made all our mad photos crawling in and out of Pringles cans we got dropped in uyuni. When the driver announced we were here we didn't believe it because it was not a town. It was a collection of mud shacks and litter. He dumped us on the street and we tipped the driver and cook then said bye to JP after asking Donald (she doesn't have it) to add us on Facebook. He never did. Probably wasn't allowed to. One of the boys shampoo then leaked all over his bag, consequentially leaving a delightful waft everywhere he went. Swings and roundabouts.
We had 8 hours to kill before our bus and after checking what there was to do in the guide book, which revealed a sweet fuck all, we wondered round with the boys for a bit before settling in a Mexican restaurant to get pissed. Lovely sign in the bathroom warning against cholera if you dont wash your hands. Pictures included.
When we emerged 7 hours later half cut, carnival was still in full swing outside and we had to walk straight through a square where kids were armed with water bombs, water pistols and silly string spray cans. Trying our best to be inconspicuous, the 6 of us walked in our best gringo fashion straight through them. I took a water bomb to the side of the face and Ken got a couple to the legs. We then had to wait outside for the bus (cos we got kicked out the bus station) for 40 mins while a thousand fire crackers and fireworks went off, each bang making me have to face the wall. Finally we got on the night bus at 8pm.
The woman came round giving everyone chocolate bars while Ken and I banged on our Annie Mac playlists and after a couple of plays felt sleepy but NO you cannot sleep because the road is made of boulders and you must bump up and down all the way. We started getting bumped to sleep but NO the light is back on and more locals are squeezing themselves and all their bags and kids up the stairs. Ok maybe we can sleep now it's 1am. Nope, NOW it's time to check the tickets! Now let's stop at a shop where a woman whose face is covered in glitter sells some weird cheeses and sweets. I get a bottle of orange juice and get back on the bus.
Oh the juice has leaked all over my bag.
It's freezing. My Brazilian sarong is wrapped super tightly around my legs which only have tights on. My legs are up on the bar hanging over the stairs and shoes are off for comfort but are then back on because my tight-clad legs keep sliding off the metal bar. Legs and face have to take turns on having the warmth of the sarong because it doesn't reach everywhere.
2am three fat local old women get on and make themselves a nest in the isle with all their blankets. I eye their blankets enviously. Then two lay down and sleep, still in the isle while the younger one hugs the stairs.
Trying to sleep listening to Stanton warriors breakbeat/house/dnb going over bumps on seats that recline so much that you end up sliding down into where you put your feet. You are bare thirsty because of the altitude and the afternoon drinking session but daren't drink your water because there is no toilet unless you dare to go at the side of the road when the bus pulls over unannounced.
We went past a slum at 7am, called El Alto which looked like Afghanistan. Litter blowing around dirt streets but still brightly colored Bolivian women power-housing around with their huge bundles on their backs serving hot milk at the side of the road.
We descended down into La Paz at 8.30 absolutely fucked from the salt flats tour and no sleep on the bus where the driver released our bags from the dust cave under the bus.
We trusted a taxi to take us to Loki and got there along with a load of Israelis.
No comments:
Post a Comment