Having a riot in La Paz

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We left Uyuni at 8pm. Another overnighter only this time we may have reconsidered and found any other way possible to get up to La Paz. Over the last 30 years we have both done our fair share of travelling around, as had the rest of the 50 passengers on the bus. So when asked had anyone ever had a journey worse than this, and no one could think of anything, just maybe you can start to appreciate the absolute terror and fear we all suffered for 10 hours.

When we bought our tickets, we were given a brochure which told us all about how this bus was the best thing since the first pot noodle. Well in Bolivia anyway. A lovely dinner, reclining seats, pillows and blankets. The bus even had spare oxygen, just in case us gringos felt a little under the weather with the altitude. So obviously we were being pretty smug about the whole thing, especially as Paul and Jenny had to get on the train which didn’t have the best of reputations. I think we showed them the brochure at least 4 times. Never count your chickens before they hatch. Or never ever assume that a bus in Bolivia is going to be safe & comfortable. The first 5 hours of the journey was like something out of top gear, only using a bus not a 4x4. It was all totally off road, speeding through water logged fields and then slamming the breaks on when we came to five feet drops in the trail. It was so rough that a panel came off the ceiling of the bus and people’s belongings were shifting all over the place and landing on peoples heads. After the fields came the dirt road which left us both with numb arses for the next hour because of the vibrating. It reminded us of the 80s film airplane! A girl got up from her seat and started wondering around the bus a bit like a zombie, then she went back to her seat, woke up her friend and was sick over her. 5 minutes later the attendant was trying to run down the aisle with the oxygen (which turned out to be for motion sickness rather than altitude sickness) to try to help her. We both kept looking at each other throughout the ordeal, reciting one of the terms and conditions in the brochure which read….. ‘We are scheduled coach service operator, and do not have any knowledge of your purpose of travel. We accordingly do not accept any liability for loss of enjoyment or similar types of loss’. We understand now why this clause was placed in the T&C’s.

We arrived in La Paz after no sleep whatsoever and could have kissed the ground. Although after 5 mins off the bus we were actually wishing we were back on it. We had been given plenty of warnings about La Paz and arriving in the pitch black at 5.30, we were already feeling extremely vulnerable. We hadn’t booked anywhere to stay and one of the biggest warnings were taxi drivers, so went inside the bus terminal with 2 others from our salt flat trip and had a cup of coffee. We were harassed the entire time we sat there by beggars and homeless. It was the worst we’d seen anywhere yet. Already, we couldn’t believe how different Bolivia was.

When the sun came up, we eventually felt brave enough to get a taxi. We couldn’t believe the police presence and actually started to feel slightly reassured that so many were around. Little did we know there was a perfectly good explanation for that. We went to an area 10 mins from the bus station where we were told that some hostels would be. When we arrived we were being turned away at every door. We were told that due to demonstrations lots of the trips and buses had been cancelled, therefore people were booking extra nights as they couldn’t go anywhere. Olivia had already pre-booked so it was just us and Andrew walking the streets at extremely high altitude and great big hills. Just before Perdy burst into tears we stumbled across a really nice hotel that we thought would either be far too expensive or full. We were surprised to find that it was incredibly cheap and they had plenty of rooms, which seemed weird considering we were in a lovely area and right next to the plaza with all the government and presidential buildings, we thought we’d had a right result…. hmmm!

Well the room certainly wasn’t as fancy as the reception, dens actually, but there was a hot shower and a bed so it stopped Perdy from crying for the time being. That was until at approx midday after we’d been asleep about 2 hours we were woken abruptly by what sounded like a bomb. Obviously it couldn’t have been, must have just sounded worse than it was. 20 seconds later, another one, this time it shook our room. This was then followed by other loud bangs and gun shots. We then heard shouting coming from outside our hotel. It was terrifying. So what had turned out to be a great find in a really nice part of town, people were avoiding like the plague as we were on the presidential square. The same square that thousands of angry mining protesters were trying to get access to, so they could access the presidents headquarters. This was probably the first time that we had felt that home would probably be a good idea right now.

We bravely went for a walk on the other side of the town, known as gringo alley, because of all the hostels and bars etc. But we were only in search of 1. Oliver’s Travels. You hear about this place all over SA. An English bar run by an English man, well a Brummy so it was nearly perfect but not quite! There was beer, sausage and mash, fry ups, tea and football. What more could you ask for 6 weeks into the trip and especially after the couple of days we’d had. A bit of a taste of home just unfortunately without our mum’s cooking and a big cuddle. The brummy did offer the latter…. you know what that lot are like!

The riots started early the next day, right outside our hotel. We decided to move out and went to the notorious Wild Rover. Written up as ‘perfect for the insomnia crowd’. La Paz also had a reputation for being pretty wild and having a good bar & club scene, so we thought why not get amongst it. So all we had to do was check out of our hotel and walk the 5 blocks to Wild Rover. Sounds easy doesn’t it! 5 minutes into our walk there was a crowd of people coming running towards us like their lives depended on it. We didn’t have time to question this, before we knew it we were suffering also. We were walking right into a riot and the police had just let off loads of tear gas. Not something we ever expected to experience in our lives, nor would we want to again. We fully understand now why it is called tear gas.

Well after Perdy got sick from it, not to sulk about it, we took it on the chin (and the eyes, nose and throat), and got making friends at the hostel to get involved in the famous Wild rover nights out.
Now La Paz without the scary stories, dodgy taxi drivers and rioting miners was an incredibly city that we had fallen in love with. It sits 3660 metres above sea level and just a walk across the bedroom will leave you gasping for breath. Altitude sickness is a funny thing but you could tell the effects it was taking on us both. Head and neck aches, tiredness and definite shortness of breath and there is nothing you can do about it but try to aclimatize over a few days.

So, we did our best and managed to get enough energy to join the club nights and go for a bit of dancing. We also took in some sights like the Witches Market where they sell Lama fetus and also the San Franciso church. La Paz is also famous for the San Pedro prison where you can visit, unofficially. The tour guides are the inmates and if you get into any trouble the police won’t help as you are in their illegally. So as exciting as it sounded, we thought best to give it a miss.
After too many late nights/early mornings and riots, we desperately needed to get out of La Paz. Wild Rover certainly got its reputation for a reason and we’d had some great days here but if you stayed any longer you wouldn’t get out.

So back to why we were really here. We were heading out to the Amazon jungle. Potentially more dangerous than La Paz. Alligators, crocodiles, anacondas & pirhanas, we doubt anything will go wrong. This is Bolivia…. perfectly safe.

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