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Published: February 23rd 2012
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To get to Arequipa from Ica, one has to take a bus. How simple it seems when it is put in words. Indeed, we bought two tickets and turned up at the correct time to get on the bus. The journey would start at 9pm and take 12 hours to get to the destination. As it was an overnight trip, we booked downstairs camas (sleeping seats), which are a bit more expensive, but provide much more space and comfort. Off we went and after the movie had finished, your correspondent, settled down and drifted off to sleep, expecting to awake quite close to Arequipa.
Waking up, I was surprised to find the bus stopped and it still being very dark outside. W thought that we had a puncture and the tyre was being changed, while I thought it more likely that we were waiting to go through a police checkpoint. Either way, there was no need to worry, so back to sleep we went.
The next time I awoke it was daylight, but the bus was still stopped and there were people milling around outside. All I could see was the side of a mountain close to the window,
so I got out of the bus to investigate what was going on. There was no puncture, nor was there a police checkpoint. In fact, what I found was a 5 mile queue of buses and lorries and cars snaking back along the road and down to a river.
At first, your correspondent assumed that a bridge had been swept away as the river was in full spate and there was a lot of flooding in the area. This was not the case. The river is usually quite shallow and the vehicles drive through a ford without any problems, but due to the rains, the ford was too deep and the police had closed the road for 8 hours until the water levels dropped. It is worth pointing out that this is the Pan American highway that stretches from Alaska to Ushuaia at the southern point of Argentina.
There was nothing to do but look at the scenery or read until it was safe for the vehicles to continue. Eventually the police gave permission and we slowly started to move forward. As there were massive queues on either side of the river and only one bus could go
across the ford at a time, it took a long time for us to get down to the river.
We watched with interest buses crossing the river. Although the levels had dropped, the water was still flowing rapidly and the drivers took great care to cross safely. Thankfully each vehicle made it safely across, following the advice of locals who were up to their waists in the river pointing out the best direction to follow when crossing the ford. Eventually, it was our turn.
All went well for the first few metres, until I suspected something may be amiss. Rather than continuing straight across towards the other bank, the bus had turned ninety degrees and was now sailing down the river at a fare rate of knots!!! The locals were all screaming at the driver that he had gone in the wrong direction – most of the passengers had worked that out for themselves!!
Thankfully our rapid progress down the rapids came to a halt when there was a loud scraping noise as the bus ground to a stop on some rocks. I reckon that the driver knew that would happen which is why he didn’t panic.
We had gone about 30 metres down river. At least we were safe, or so we thought. It was at this point that the water started pouring in to the bus, and of course, we were downstairs in the expensive seats. The bus hostess suggested that we vacate the lower level quite quickly, although Wendy thought she meant we vacate the bus and plunge into the raging torrents outside.
Once upstairs we were met by a scene of total and utter calmness. The Peruvians were discussing how they were going to get off the bus and were debating the advantages or disadvantages of taking ones’ shoes off if you needed to wade through the water. One man opened the roof hatch to allow in some fresh air, but someone else pointed out that if the water rose then we would be flooded so it should be closed (we were only in 5 ft of water and it was a two tiered bus about 15 ft high) , then someone pointed out that the roof hatch could be a means of escape, so should be left open !!!!
Suddenly, there was a ray of hope. A local appeared in
a JCB and instructed passengers to climb in to the digger bucket. It meant leaping from the bus in to the bucket and holding on to the sides while we were transported to the opposite bank. The bus hostess shouted that children should be taken off first, which caused a small stampede from the back of the bus, but there was not enough room for them all to get past, so your correspondent successfully got off the bus on the second trip, taking Wendy with him. I left the small puppy and kitten on the bus as suitable replacements.
Once safe, we stood in the sun, watching our fellow passengers being brought over by JCB, until the bus was empty. Great chains were then found and the JCB then dragged the bus out of the river but to the side from which it had just left!!! As I watched the fender being ripped off, it crossed my mind that we may not make it to Arequipa . After all, our stricken bus was on the wrong side of the river and did not look in any state to continue – but this is Peru. A few moments later, some
locals with a green rope, stood in a line across the river showing our driver the correct line to follow and half an hour later we were sat back in a wet and filthy bus, with inches of water on the floor!!
So, a small adventure (I haven’t even mentioned the pelican or helicopter) helped the day go quicker, and the rest of the trip passed without incident.
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