Day 22 (continued)
After our Salt Flats tour ended in Uyuni, we booked bus tickets to Potosi and hung around for an hour before we set off. The journey was pleasant, with the bus constantly beeping to ward off llamas, and nice views of the mountain scenery. It got dark at about 8pm and we were dozing off when the bus stopped at the side of the road and everyone got off. Bewildered, we followed suit and struggled uphill for the next ten minutes with our backpacks feeling even heavier in this altitude. We soon came to a roadblock with loads of trucks blocking the road and the drivers sitting around getting drunk. It turns out that Bolivian truck drivers have been protesting about taxes and blocking roads all over the country. We had heard nothing about this and when we bought our bus ticket, we were never told there would be a problem. Needless to say, as we stood in the dark on the side of a mountain surrounded by drunk truckers, our clothes still caked in salt from the day’s adventures and our shoulders aching from our bags, we weren’t feeling too happy. We ended up sharing a minibus with some locals and an English couple, John and Lucy, into the city where we would then get a taxi to our hostel. The minibus journey was some light relief as an absolutely hammered middle aged man wearing a flowery fedora tried to converse with James in slurred Spanish while our travelling companions fell about the place laughing. Who knows what jokes at our expense were being told! It was a relief to check into Hostal Casa Blanca for a night’s sleep (although the shower was nothing more than a trickle) and we decided we would re-evaluate our plans the next morning.
Day 23.
An early morning walk around Potosi gave us our first glimpse of Carnaval celebrations, with traffic controllers in costume and parades starting to march through the streets. However, we knew we didn’t want to stay here for another night and we tried to find out the story with getting to Sucre. Nobody seemed to know what was happening. We were advised to just try our luck at the bus terminal, and picking up John and Lucy on the way, we got a taxi to the new terminal 20 minutes away. This terminal is large and modern with a ton of tour operators…and it was a ghost town. No buses were running to Sucre. The road blocks were still in place and nobody knew when they would ease. After an hour of to-ing and fro-ing and assessing our options, we were about to buy tickets to La Paz when Lucy returned to let us know she had found a taxi driver willing to take us to Sucre! Well, at least to the blockade outside Sucre. Delighted, we all piled into a little taxi and paid 100 bolivianos each for our new mate to bring us 3 hours away (the normal rate is approx 40 bolivianos per person). He really earned that money! We sped off into the mountains where he navigated his way through tiny dirt tracks and bumpy trails until reaching the main road to Sucre. When we arrived at the blockade we had to walk uphill again (why always uphill?!) for about 15 minutes, passing a huge amount of trucks, until we got a minibus to the town.
Or so we thought.
This minibus dumped us on the side of another hill and left us to walk again as far as another blockade. As we approached it, we could see dozens of drivers sitting on the side of the road and pacing the street. Most of them were holding sticks, some sharpening them and glaring at us as we passed. It was a seriously intimidating situation, made slightly worse by the fact that we were still lugging our 17 kilo backpacks so knew we couldn’t run away if it came to it. Thankfully, a taxi driver brought us all to our hostel door to end an extremely long and stressful day of travelling. We shared an apartment for the night with John and Lucy and tried to relax by eating a ton of fried chicken for dinner. Yum!
Day 24.
We changed to a new private room today (a mattress on the floor and a smelly bathroom, great) and set off to visit some 60 million year old dinosaur tracks in Parque Cretacico. The park is about a 45 minute bus journey from the centre of town and on our way to it we got pelted with water balloons. Oh crap. Carnaval was in full flow and we weren’t prepared. We sat our sodden bums onto the bus and made our way slowly through the noisy markets and parades in the town until we reached the park. It was a really fun few hours messing around with giant dino sculptures, taking the tour into the quarry to view the tracks, and watching a dinosaur documentary. A cement company discovered the tracks in the 80s and today it’s one of the largest paleontological sites in the world. It felt surreal looking at these ancient footsteps in a quarry while JCBs trundle around in the background (the cement factory is still operational). Upon returning to Sucre, we once again got ambushed from every angle by water balloons and super soakers. Poor James even got foam spray right in the face form about 3 inches away. After the two days we have had, we weren’t in Carnaval humour at all and spent the evening eating delicious food in Joy Ride Cafe and trying to see the positives. All part of the travelling experience!
Day 25.
Today was our day to fight back and fully embrace Carnaval. Armed with foam spray, balloons and ponchos, we walked into the city to have some fun. Catherine’s blonde hair and fair skin make her a prime target, so water was coming at her from all directions. Kids jump out from doorways, drop bombs from balconies and shoot water guns from the windows of passing vehicles. They chase you down the street and lob sneaky ones from across the road. You have to be ready at all times, and Catherine was holding her foam spray as if it was a deadly weapon, ready to retaliate when necessary. James single handedly kept the balloon sellers in business as he stocked up on ammo. We strolled around the plaza, went down to the main park and joined in a few parades along the way. We got welcomed into one particular parade by a local football team and had great craic dancing through the narrow streets with them as brass bands played and water fights went on all around us.
When we returned to the hostel, drenched to the skin and shivering, we were in another new room. This one had an even worse odour than before and we wanted to spend as little time as possible in it. We sat in the courtyard chatting with other Irish, Kiwi and English backpackers playing cards and having a few drinks (well, Catherine wasn’t drinking so she has a much more vivid memory of the evening). The night escalated quickly and some staff members ended up opening up the bar, handing round shots to everyone and having a singsong inside while the manager angrily banged on the door. Carnaval spirit was spreading!
Day 26.
We were supposed to go to an indigenous market called Tarabuco today but, again, the blockades were causing havoc and we couldn’t get there. It’s mad how much upheaval they have created. We met 3 Irish nurses who were only meant to be in Sucre for 2 nights and have been here 11 days. they’re actually flying to Argentina today just to get out. We feel a bit trapped too. With Carnaval, it’s not as if we can stroll around the city and admire the beautiful buildings it’s famous for. Any time we step outside the door we are at risk of getting soaked. It gets pretty old, pretty quickly when you can’t do anything. We changed room AGAIN this morning so we finally have an airy, smell free room for our last night. We have decided that we will try to leave tomorrow for La Paz. There are rumours that the road blocks are mostly lifted and it’s just Sucre left to clear. The Superbowl was on so we ran back down to Joy Ride to watch it. We bumped into Matt and Bec from La Serena here and chatted to some Americans as we all watched the Denver Broncos beat the Carolina Panthers. It was a fun end to our time in Sucre, which has been very mixed and we’re more than ready to move on.
Day 27.
Success! Praise the Lord, the road blocks are over. We bought bus tickets this morning for a night bus to La Paz and have just hung around waiting for it all day, venturing out to wait an hour for probably the most delicious roast chicken we’ve had. Bolivians certainly know how to cook a chicken! We’re looking forward to boarding the bus and hopefully having a smooth 12 hour journey to La Paz.
Observations:
- Bolivians love to call white people Gringos. We have heard it so much since we arrived here, after never getting called a Gringo in Chile at all. It can be slightly disconcerting to hear a child scream ‘Gringa!” at you while chasing you with a Super Soaker.
- Carnaval runs for 5 days and ends the day before Ash Wednesday. We were in Sucre for most of it and it seems to be every little boy’s dream – getting to attack people with water all day long? Yes please!
- Sucre does seem to be a pretty town. We didn’t get the chance to see it properly but it’s certainly frantic and colourful with a main plaza and plenty to do. Everywhere shuts down the Mon and Tue before Ash Wednesday so be aware of this.
- Road blockades are an extremely annoying form of protest, not just for tourists trying to get around but for all Bolivians trying to go about their daily life. Supplies into Sucre were limited, the town was losing out on tourism and the market was inaccessible meaning the women who trek across mountains to sell their wares lost out on a lot of valuable income.
From Chile to Chilly 