The train ride from Hell.
Thousands of pink flamingos on the salt flats. Merry-go-round turned by man-power. Plus, the many-sided slide in the same park in La Quiaca.
One of more than a dozen wagens of something being transported quicklt by wagon.
One of more than a dozen wagens of something being transported quicklt by wagon.Protest to do with the need for education - it is not free in Argentina.
Tuesday & Wednesday, Oct. 19 & 20.
We get a taxi to the bus terminal in lots of time. Nobody is working at the kiosk for Fletcha bus, supposedly the best. Finally, a light is on but still nobody is home. A young man frantically gets a hold of Peter and says that our bus has been changed and we must come pronto to the other bus. For the inconvenience, they will provide the taxi from the bus depot in Oruro to the train. (Our other bus was to take us directly to the train.) There is a young lady we have met, Tash from Brisbane, and another couple on the bus before any “locals” are loaded. Not long before departure time, a German couple come on the bus, feeling very confused and “ripped-off” as they were approached in a panic by the same guy who got us and whisked to our bus, thinking all along that it was a scam! They felt a little better when they saw other foreigners on the bus.
We get a taxi to the bus terminal in lots of time. Nobody is working at the kiosk for Fletcha bus, supposedly the best. Finally, a light is on but still nobody is home. A young man frantically gets a hold of Peter and says that our bus has been changed and we must come pronto to the other bus. For the inconvenience, they will provide the taxi from the bus depot in Oruro to the train. (Our other bus was to take us directly to the train.) There is a young lady we have met, Tash from Brisbane, and another couple on the bus before any “locals” are loaded. Not long before departure time, a German couple come on the bus, feeling very confused and “ripped-off” as they were approached in a panic by the same guy who got us and whisked to our bus, thinking all along that it was a scam! They felt a little better when they saw other foreigners on the bus.
We begin only 10 minutes late, but proceed to lose time as the stop in El Alto becomes the place of choice to get off and get some food. One local decides at the last minute that she is hungry (although I think if she didn’t eat for a month, the reduction of weight would not show!), and she casually goes to a stand and orders something. The bus driver inches forward until he is just past her and then stops and waits. We are now over an hour and not yet out of La Paz. As we pass the spot we saw the body on the way in and hit the autopisto, an Evangelical preacher begins his spiel. You don’t need any Spanish to recognize the patter. Finally, he passes the hat and explains that he has a website. As if by providence, the bus begins to sputter. Finally, we are parked at the side of the road and the locals are up in arms yelling at “el maestro” - their word for the driver. The bad news is we have run out of diesel the good news is we are only 50 yards from the station! They get a can of fluid to get us to the pump. By the time we leave it is almost 2 hours and we are maybe a half hour out of La Paz. Luckily, we have three hours before our supposed arrival time and the departure of the train.
The train station in Oruro is exceptionally clean. We buy a few snacks for a late lunch and for on the train. They begin boarding early. Our seats are fine, if somewhat thread-bare. They show movies as we travel. Our dinner is small, but adequate - chicken, fries, frozen vegetables, and canned gravy. It is accompanied by a warm coke.
I lowered my seat at about ten o’clock, snuggling under the warm cover. But, the track is so rough that at times when you go over a series of undulations, one feels it that the train is going to become air-bound. Otherwise, it sways enough to cause anyone so inclined to become sea sick. Yet, we get to Vilazon in one piece, if not a little tired.
The crossing of the border was long, but uneventful. The walk from the train to the frontier is farther than it appears on the Internet. A taxi might have been a good idea, especially since Peter is still under the weather.
We do take a taxi from the Argentina border to our hostel. It is a little tired, but it is clean and in the centre of the downtown not far from the bus stop. We take the room that is ready, and within an hour we are fast asleep until early afternoon.
We go out to use the Internet and to have dinner, only to discover that in Argentina, you eat before three a la tarde, or after eight at night! The supermarket became our source of dinner. I have discovered that strawberry yogurt is just as good as peach.
The town is very clean and quiet, much to our liking. We are in bed early and make up for some of the lost sleep over the past few days. The bus is not until 2:30 the next day, so no morning hurry.
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