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Published: December 26th 2006
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Pre accident
And everything was beautiful OK, so we were forced to roll on back to freakin
La. Paz- could we be anymore depressed and angry about this situation?? Uh no I don’t think so... salt was rubbed into the wound when we saw Danny and Chris for a mere 5minutes, me looking worse for wear after I had a hell of a night on the bus back to the city... never, EVER, think its better to sit next to a Mexican than a Bolivian. I really learnt that lesson and to every Bolivian I´ve previously embarrassed by creating a scene and pushing you away from me when you try and sit nect to me - I’m very sorry. Mexican, wandering fingers- I will find you one day.
Anyway, everything teetering on the verge of disaster I broke down in tears over some yummy granola and had nothing too far from a “moment” of hatred for Bolivia and pure travel exhaustion. Chris you rocked my world in a real Welsh way.
We spent this round of La. Pazness shopping for Christmas presents, eating at Oliver’s (obsessed) and trying to escape our hostel room from boughs’ of “bathroom best friend-ness”. Bolivian Belly got us badddd.
Finally managed to leave for Villazon, which would take us, welllllll overdue, to the Argentinian border. After being told- sorry, lied to- that we could get a more expensive bus with a toilet and everything, we instead settled on Christmas themed tickets and flashed them around to anyone who would listen.
Here is where maybe... we jinxed ourselves?
- We nearly missed the bus
- Found it destroying the world with more gas emissions than New York City
- Got on
- Where oh soo lucky to score the back seat with 6 other small cherubs
- Discovered the roof had holes in it
- There were no lights and
- Ohhhhh joy, my window was stuck open for the entirety of the night. It was a coollllldd bad boyy...
The trip was due to take 18 hours, I guess after the first two stops to change the busted tire’s (2.5 hours each, sitting on the side of the road) you can understand how we were feeling in the 24th hour when it went… pear shaped to say the least.
The driver was going a little too fast, and at each bump we’d bounce from our seats and protect our heads from the roof. It was the next bump when the entire bus tipped over and all I could HEAR was screaming, SEE was the ground coming closer and closer, and FEEL more terrified than I’d ever been in my whole life.
I think I blacked out at some point as I remember the bus tipping, screaming, and then I was on my feet holding Tahnee who had fallen through the window and was gripping onto the seat for dear life. I kept looking at Abby, who had blood pouring down her face and was covered in dust, we just kept repeating, “this isn’t happening. No, no this really isn’t happening”. Tahnee went into a fit of some sort, which was horrific. Here I was with these two girls I’ve known for 6 weeks, in an upside down bus, holding one of whom I thought was about to die in my arms (schoolies ´03 Leppy and Butchy, u know it)- and that’s not a bonnieism exaggeration!! I could feel blood pouring down my face, but knew I could feel
Cowboys and Cowgirls
but we met some rodeo men!! every part of my body- therefore I knew I was oookkkk. Pictures of people in accidents, bomb-sites, fires, tsunamis, kept running through my mind- I was fine!
We gathered out backpacks, jumpers and sunglasses which at the time felt like a ridiculous thing to do, but was necessary really, got Tahnee out through the top of the bus and Abby and I climbed through the smashed to smithereens windscreen.
I had visions of us waiting in the desert for hours on end while we waited for assistance, I also had expectations of the Australian embassy flying in a helicopter to take us back to Buones Aires, and all I wanted was my mum to be there holding my hand, telling me I actually hadn’t lost my eye and it was a bad bad dream.
By the time we got off the bus, Tahnee was still on the roof screaming “what happened??”, she was lifted down by some men from somewhere. There was already another bus waiting to take us to hospital (?? I was shocked as well).
The bus ride was actually worse than the accident, here we were seated on yet another bus after no more than 5minutes ago we´d been on one that flew off the road, we were the only three with blood pouring from us, an elderly lady stood next to me holding rosary beads to my head and praying over and over- I bit my tongue so hard. Tahnee, who completely blacked out throughout the whole thing kept looking at me and just screaming, offering me face wipes (bless her), and asking what happened.
Abby explained that we were in a bus accident, and she then couldn’t understand how the bus got back up again. That was awful because as far as we could see, she had no visible injuries but I know we were both thinking that she´d possibly lost her memory.
Walked ourselves into hospital, shooed off the Bolivian man who wanted to stitch up my face, I actually couldn’t speak, but Abby did me proud by keeping cool and just asking them to glue it back together (I ALWAYS thought humpty was a joke, but its truEE!!). I was so brave, until they poured a bottle of straight alcohol over my face and I screamed the house down.
I had to go back and ask to be x-rayed (its Bolivia..), which was exciting as we got wheelchairs.
It took me 45minutes to remember my phone number; my dad actually beat me to it after having been informed of the happenings by Abbys father, who managed to call him in Australia after Abby called him and told him everything and remembered my phone number (friend for life).
Dad was telling me to just calm down, you can imagine the state I was in!! While I screamed for mum to come to bolivia and just get me out of here.
Tahnee had 8stitches in the back of her head, and Abs had her face glued back together, but we had no broken bones, no massive gashes- we were kind of ok!!
I think after this, while we smoked cigarette after cigarette, I started laughing, and just said “touché” to the whole ordeal.
So close to death, but once again nothing but invincible.
The bus company checked us into a hotel, which had a TV but no running water (once again - it’s Bolivia). And we hid out here for the next three days.
The general consensus was “you have a scratch on your head, you didn’t die- get over it”. Apparently this happens all the time to them... geeezzz. The company had quiet an issue with giving us back our money for the tickets, “ACCIDENTA SENORITAS!! ACCIDENTA, NO PROBLEMO!!” Um yeah.. kind of mate?! They also saw it that they got us within 15minutes of our destination so.. um why?
But then they also paid for our hotel, which was a pretty big call, as they literally have no money.
WE WERE IN A BUS THAT TIPPED OVER OK!!
After suffering breakdown, flashback, and finding two giant glass cuts down my back, I demanded we leave Villazon and get to the border- Argentina never looked so damn beautiful. We made the “friends for life” call, knew and we’d get home, with scratches on our head and probably feel kind of OTT about the whole drama, so we marched on.
People stared; we started to tell our story, and waited in line for 2 very unnecessary hours, to get into Argentina. Hang on.... did we have to.. Yes, that’s right it was another 30hours till we got to buones.
BY BUS.................
xx
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joup
non-member comment
Sorry
i am sooo sorry for this, but u cant forget that bolivia is a poor country.... We must work more.... Ce ya and Happy holidays.. i hope so...