The 48 hour mission

First of all, I have to apologise for writing like this but I am doing it for my own benefit as much as anyone else´s, because some peasant is running around the fields of Bolivia with my diary...or has burnt it by now to keep themselves warm for another night.

H and I said goodbye to the girls on Monday the 17th and made our way to the bus station in Sucre. It was pretty sad saying goodbye to them as we had all become pretty close, given the fact that we had spent so much time together, and been through so much, over the last 10 days.

From Sucre we got a 3 hour bus ride to Potosi, the worlds highest city. Luckily the trip was in the day time and the mountain roads didn´t seem quite as bad as at night, although we were very high up.

Once in Potosi we bought our bus tickets to Villazòn. We decided to go for the more expènsive Cama option (as opposed to the Semi-Cama we had been taking) as we wanted to reduce the risk of people pooing in the aisles or falling asleep on our laps. The bus didn´t leave Potosi until 8pm so we had to hang around for the best part of four hours.

The bus ride started off ok and for the first few hours I was able to stretch my legs out and after the first couple of stops I was in good spirits as no-one was invading my space. It was only when the bus stopped in the middle on nowhere to pick up randoms that things got bad (and by this I mean the bus actually stops on a dirt track, on the side of some mountain without a village in sight...it seems as if people just wait there in the hope that a bus will pass at two in the morning). Before I knew it I had a baby under my seat, a boy trying to sleep in my foot space and one resting on my head rest. This was fast becoming the second worst bus ride of this trip. I sat it out though and longed for sunrise. Luckily a lot of people got out at one stop so this freed up a few seats for those who hadn´t the inclination (or means, probably) to book one in advance. From what I could work out, the drivers pocketed any money made from picking people up along the way, so it was in their interest to do so.

We got to the border 11 hours or so after leaving Potosi and because the sun hadn´t come up we had to spend some time sitting in the bus station. We didn´t fancy walking to the border in the dark with all our bags, and it was pretty cold.





























The border between Bolivia (Villazòn) and Argentina (La Quiaca).





























After a couple of hours we made our way into Argentina and got a taxi to the bus station in La Quiaca. Having my bag stolen really tainted my view of Bolivia which is a real shame as it was one of the most interesting places we had been on this trip, and most probably the hardest place I have ever travelled around. Luckily I had spent my time there with a great bunch of people. Needless to say I was looking forward to my comforts...the first of which was tarmaced roads.

The next bus to Salta was due to leave in 5 minutes so H and I got our tickets and boarded the bus, safe in the knowledge that this was an Argentinian bus company. The trip to Salta took 8 hours and although ours chairs wouldn´t recline (the levers had been snapped off of our seats) it was bearable. However my legs were beginning to seize up....3 hours, 11 hours and then 8 hours, plus all the waiting around was beginning to take its toll.

I had wanted to spend the night in Salta as it would break up the trip to Mendoza nicely but H suggested we push on to Mendoza, which was another 18 hours away. When we got to Salta there was a Semi-Cama bus leaving in 5 minutes, but if we had got that it would have meant immediately getting on an 18 hour bus trip without a decent stop. We also wanted a Cama bus as we hadn´t done one yet on this trip. Apart from the business class seats, which are hard to find, these are the most luxurious (and not to be confused with the Bolivian equivalent which would be a knackered Semi-Cama, but called Cama because it had two levels...confused yet? Like I said, this is for my retrospective benefit now my diary has gone AWOL). There was one leaving at 6pm, two hours after we arrived, so we bought two tickets. I had also noticed that the Milan / Barcelona Champions League semi-final had just kicked off on a TV by the bar in the bus stop and I was far more interested in watching that than getting on another bus.

So, a much needed litre of beer, sandwich and chips later we boarded our fourth bus in two days, which would take us from Salta to Mendoza. It was great and easily the best one we have been on so far. I even got a decent kip on it - the huge leather seats were fantastic. We arrived in Mendoza at about midday on the Wednesday the 19th, 48 hours after leaving the girls in Sucre. It was a proper mission. We now have 8 or 9 days here before we get a bus over the Andes and into Santiago in Chile, from where we fly to Sydney.