And this is our story...
While double-fisting glass bottles of Sporade (a South American drink comparable to Gatorade...but not really...hence the name) we board the bus from Puno to La Paz at 7:00 AM on Friday. Smooth sailing from here right? Wrong.
We slept a good portion of the first three and one half hour leg of the trip. We woke up to someone speaking rapidly in what seemed like a foreign tongue mentioning something about immigration and changing money. As usual Christina turns to Monica and asks, "Wait, que? Where are we?" As if Monica knows everything.
We both kind of shrug and get herded off of the bus like cattle clutching any belongings within reach. In Christina's case this included two jackets (it was about 75 degrees out).
After changing our Nuevo Soles into Bolivianos (Christina received one majorly torn bill and one bill held completely together by tape...talk about a double standard for Americans) we were again herded to Policía Judicial to wait in line just for them to glance at our immigration form and point us in another direction to Immigración Peru. Waited in another line for them to stamp our immigration form and point us down the road about a quarter mile and over the border to Immigración Bolivia.
Here, after waiting in line for 10 minutes, más o menos, we hear a voice, "Estadounidenses?!" That would be us, and only us.
We were shuttled to the front of the line to the corner of the postage stamp-sized office to apply for our Bolivian Visas. we had everything so prepared for this process. We had researched online to make sure we had all required documents and that each of our American bills was in perfect shape.
He hands us a form to fill out and we proudly hand him back one that we had previously printed and filled out. (So prepared!) He did seem pleasantly surprised. "Pasaporte?" We promptly hand him our passports. Stamped immigration form? Got it. Copy of Passport? Here you go! (Which we just happened to have on hand). $135 fee? Monica goes first. "Right here...." "No señorita, hay un desgarro en eso. Y tambien eso. Y eso." The bills apparently had microscopic tears visible only to Bolivian immigration officers. "Hay otros?" No senor. Monica definitely has no other bills. Oh dear. "Tarjeta Señor?" even though she very well knows it is U.S. cash only. "No." She stands there frozen and checks The Pouch which she already knows is empty but was wishfully thinking 60 crisp American dollars would happen to appear.
Meanwhile Christina hands him $140 of seemingly perfect bills. And wow, she even got change back! She is good to go!
Monica looks at Christina pleadingly. Christina hands her her extra twenties, to Monica. They looked perfect! (Even though these twenties were rejects from Loki Hostel in Cusco). Monica hands the immigration officer these bills...Nope..still not good enough. "Oh dear," says Monica. "Sh*t sh*t sh*t," says Christina who is freaking out more than Monica - if Monica gets left behind, she gets left behind. All Christina had left was a fifty dollar bill with a tear in the top that the officers were sure to notice. Oh well, here goes nothing. She offers the fifty to the officer who inspects the bill meticulously yet somehow missed the tear. Hallelujah! Monica needed one more twenty. Again, Christina hands him another 20 that had been rejected by the money exchange office. It was even worse than the ones Monica had in the first place but the officers were too impressed with Christina's name and passport photo smile to reject it (Yet she looked so haggard at the time). Thank the Lord! Phew! Christina saved Monica's life!
We're going to La Paz, Bolivia! Just one stop in Copacabana to go. We enjoyed a quick lunch in Copacabana and transfered buses for our last leg of the journey. Little did we know the journey included a motorboat.
Again, we fell asleep and were awoken and informed we had to get off the bus and cross a river. What is this? Oregon Trail? Oh, we must be caulking the wagon. Alright then.
We pay 1 boliviano to hop on a small motorboat as the bus boards a ferry pequeno (pun intended). Christina was pissed for being woken from her nap for this, and would only be appeased with Skittles and un bano. Luckily, they just happened to have Skittles for sale on the other side to keep her distracted while our bus made it across like a turtle on crutches. (Christina wants to make sure that everyone knows Monica created that wonderful simile).
Finally the turtle made it across and took us swiftly to La Paz!
(Christina wants to point out, however, that turtles are faster in water than they are on land.)
El Fin....Speaking of which, hi Fin and Lewis!
That's our bus floating by!
Scenery of most of our journey:
Of course there's a soccer field in the middle of nowhere with several people playing:
We drove through a few random Bolivian towns:
Copacabana from above:
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