Advertisement
I opened my eyes reluctantly and wondered why the bus was stopped. Damn it was cold. There was ice on the windows and the thin blanket was about as warm as a wet flannel. I squinted at my watch. It was only 11pm. We still had at least 6 hours to go in our overnight journey from Cusco to Arequipa. Thinking it was probably just another flat tire I closed my eyes and tried to dream of warm beaches.
I heard animated murmurings from other passengers and opened my eyes again. One of the staff had emerged to inform us in indecipherable spanish as to the problem. I could have been wrong, but it sounded something like terrorists.
That got me awake and looking out the window. In front of us were hundreds of people milling about amidst burning fires. Shite. We were stranded in the middle of nowhere, it was dark and there was a riot going on. Protesters from the local mine had blocked the roads in either direction and a line of cars, trucks and buses were prevented from going anywhere.
I shoved my valuables and passport down my pants thinking that our bus
was going to be stormed at any moment but my fears were somewhat allayed when most of the locals on the bus simply shrugged and went back to sleep, content to wait it out till the morning.
Information was sketchy at best, but it seemed likely that we would be stuck there all night and well into the next day. So we spent a fitful and freezing night in the desert, slightly afraid and not really sure what was going to happen (but confident that I could survive on the small bottle of whisky in my bag.)
As the sun rose, our stomachs grumbled and the ice began to melt off the windows. We started to discuss our options with fellow gringo passengers. With no access to food or water and a misfunctiong toilet it wasn't enticing to wait it out on the bus.
According to some locals, we were only a few kilometres from the town and if we could get through to the other side we might be able to get another bus. The only problem being we had to cross the picket lines without any real idea of whether the protest was a violent
one or not.
After another hour of deliberation we decided to take the risk. The lure of bacon and eggs and a cold beer on the other side was too enticing. Given that there was another bunch of tourist buses behind us we figured there was safety in numbers.
So, laden with backpacks we made a break for it and crossed the line. We seemed to be getting away with it until halfway through the confusion of people someone grabbed my bag and tried to force me back in the direction of the bus. Determined we pushed on, and feigned ignorance. We were just stupid tourists after all.
It was a long, conspicuous walk to the other side of town. Not only were people protesting at the blockades at either end but there was a demonstration in the square also. As a large mob started to run towards us I wondered how efficient jui jitsu would be wearing a backpack. Fortunately they weren't too interested in us and we jumped in a cyclo taxi hoping to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Two gals and two very heavy backpacks proved a mean feat for
the poor cyclo taxi and he earned every bit if his fare huffing and puffing us to the other picket line.
It was only blind faith that kept us moving as we had no real confirmation that there would be any way out on the other side. As an armoured vehicle tore into town, sprouting heavily armed police we legged it as fast as we could to the end of the convoy of trucks, buses and locals that had been stranded from the other direction.
It had taken us almost two hours to traverse the town. Much of that walking in the hot sun and as we finally neared the end of the convoy there were real fears that our bus had left. And we were right. It had left laden with locals but fortunately a kind lady had noticed that we were missing and made the bus turn around for us. Much to the obvious consternation of the drivers and other passengers. Had she not fought hard and succeeded I would hate to think how long it would have taken us to get out of there.
As we celebrated being on the bus for another 6
hours without food or water, we realised that we had made some incredible friends out of the ordeal and had it not happened we would likely have left the bus without every talking to one another. At the end of the day,
I just hope the miners got what they wanted.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.124s; Tpl: 0.015s; cc: 14; qc: 52; dbt: 0.0506s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb