Before we moved down here, we spent a lot of time working on our visa paperwork. We went to the Bolivian consulate in LA several times, filled out forms in triplicate and quadruplicate, and brought—what we thought—was everything we needed.
It turns out there was something missing (ain’t that always the case). We had to get a special stamp on our marriage certificate, and the only place to get that was Santa Cruz.
So our options were, spend $300 on place tickets to Santa Cruz (45 min each way), or spend $55 and travel by bus (which takes 16 hours each way). We had heard from friends that the bus trip was “an interesting experience that you have to try once”, so we decided to go that route.
In theory, it seemed pretty cool. Instead of traveling to/from the airport, hassling with security, filling out paperwork, and all that, you just show up at the bus station 5 minutes before takeoff, ride the bus all night, and wake up in Santa Cruz in the middle of town. Not too bad. The catch is, there’s NO PROPER ROAD from Tarija to Santa Cruz, which means the bus takes a route through the mountains that’s basically a dirt path just wide enough for one vehicle.
Rocky mountain / sheer cliff
So the bus left Tarija at 5:30pm, and immediately the scenery was amazing. We passed tiny adobe houses, dramatic canyons, and little pueblos where life hasn’t changed much in 300 years. After about an hour though, Samantha started feeling sick. We were riding in the middle of the bus, and the bumpy road and sharp turns made her feel queasy. I gave her the aisle seat and took the window seat—which of course then made me feel sick. But we stopped at a small town and bought some lime soda and crackers, which made us feel better.
After about 3 hours on the bus the road got really bad. In most places it was only one lane, completely unpaved, and hugged the side of a cliff. Imagine riding in a huge double-decker charter bus: you’re probably 18 feet above the ground, the bus is flying down a mountain road at 40 MPH—one side is the mountain, and the other side is a sheer cliff that drops off into utter darkness. Scary indeed. And it just went on, and on, and on—all night long. In order to make the sharp turns, the bus driver had to swing the bus to the bleeding edge of the cliff. There were times that only three tires were on the road.
An unexpected obstacle
About 1:30am the bus stopped in the road. I was half-asleep and got up to see what was going on. Ahead of us in the road, a semi truck carrying produce had flipped over! He must have been going too fast, took a sharp turn, and rolled onto his side. The potato sacks (or whatever they were), tumbled down the mountain cliff never to be seen again. The driver was ok, but the truck itself was blocking the road, and traffic was starting to back up. The small cars were able to pass him—but would our huge bus make it?...
At this point I started to get worried. It was a one-way road, we were eight hours in, and there was no place for our bus driver to turn around. He needed to get around this truck—even if it meant doing something really stupid.
So our coca-leaf-chewing driver started to maneuver our 50-foot long bus but it was really difficult—the semi had overturned at the bottom of a hairpin turn. On one side was the mountain, and the other side was the cliff. Our driver tried to get around but started to scrape the side of the overturned truck and stopped cold. At this point every Bolivian male over the age of 17 was outside the bus debating over what to do. Finally someone had a good idea—since we were trying to get around the overturned truck, and it’s wheels were facing us, taking the air out of the overturned truck’s tires might give us just the few inches we need to get around. Amazingly, it worked! They took air out of the semi’s tires, and that gave us enough room to squeeze around without flipping over too. Hurray!
So we started off back on the road to Santa Cruz…
Almost marooned
Around 8 in the morning, we stopped for gas and people got off to use the bathroom. Of course the men had been going all night, every time we stopped at a village or town to pick up passengers. But this was the first chance the ladies had to use the facilities. Samantha needed to go, but I was a little nervous about her leaving the bus—so I slipped her a cell phone and 100 bolivianos before she jumped off. The bus is just sitting there, Sam is next in line for the bathroom, when all of the sudden—the BUS TAKES OFF!!! I roll down the window and yell, “Samantha, RUN!!!” She bolts after the bus, toilet paper in hand, and catches up just before we get on the highway. She was the next person in line—another 30 seconds and she would have been in the bathroom when we took off.
Arriving in Santa Cruz
So after 16 hours on the road, a perilous adventure with an overturned semi, and Sam almost getting marooned, we arrived in Santa Cruz—exhausted. We got what we needed at the immigration office, and spent the rest of the time shopping and visiting with friends we hadn’t seen in a while.
The next episode
So after an adventure like that, you’d figure we would have enough of the bus and just fly next time we need to visit Santa Cruz. Well, we would have our chance soon enough—not long after we got back we found out there was MORE paperwork missing, and we had to return to Santa Cruz, again. Would we learn from our lesson and take a flight? Or would we be gluttons for punishment and brave the bus again?
Stay tuned to find out…
No comments:
Post a Comment