Mentiras de la policía peruana

Trip Start May 11, 2010
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13
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Trip End Jan 06, 2011


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Flag of Bolivia  ,
Thursday, August 12, 2010

We've covered serious ground since leaving Cusco in a couple of night buses along roads all sorts of roads: windy, flat, dusty, pristine tarmac, bumpy ruts and far too many speed bumps! We’re now in the very peaceful and beautiful Samaipata (famous because Che Guevara bit the bullet here), in the eastern foothills of the Andes.

Anyhow back to our journey and prepare yourself for some bad language about the fucking Peruvian police.  I hate these guys, corrupt buggers.  At the border from Peru to Bolivia, Cate and I sleepily got off the night bus at 6.30am.  We were 'randomly’ selected for a drugs search, which was quite exciting when you consider Cate and my squeaky clean existence; we’re not exactly Axel Rose and Amy Winehouse after all! 

We were split up, taken into separate rooms where they had a good search through our belongings, a quick frisking and then a chat about our intentions in Bolivia (tourists of course – dumb-asses) and how much we enjoyed Peru (very much).  We were then reunited and laughing about how pointless that was when I discovered our wallet was missing $40 and 150 pesos.

I would like to say I went back and fluently swore at them, called them a bunch of crooked liars, demanded and got the lot back but in reality it was very different.  My Spanish failed me and I blurted out in English that they must have accidentally forgotten to put back our money.  As if in a David Blaine TV show the pesos miraculously found themselves back onto the table, where they pointed to it and said I must have forgotten to take them when I left!  And they insisted that they had never touched the dollars and had no idea why I would accuse them – bloody bastards!  There was no way to prove them wrong, my word against theirs, in the end I had to leave with my tail between my legs and $40 poorer – a bitter way to leave Peru, which we really had enjoyed very much.

Five hours later I’d managed to calm down and we arrived in La Paz, the world’s highest capital city.  We had only 6 hours in the city before our next 17 hour night bus on to Santa Cruz.  We had a great time strolling around town, we visited the witches market full of all sorts of weird stuff including: llama foetuses, armadillo shells, and any number of potions to cure aliments from herpes to the curse your neighbour has put on you!  Really strange stuff, as you can see in the pics.  We had a bite to eat, walked up the parkway to the best viewpoint in town and then grabbed a taxi to the bus terminal for our bus.

Bolivian buses eh, if I were the king I’d create two rules: one, everyone getting on board should have a shower first (I mean a proper good scrubbing not the flicking water on yourself they do here) and two, children should get their own transport.  The journey was pretty harmless apart from intoxication by BO and howling children, and I got to see the new Karate Kid movie in Spanish – so not all was lost!

OK, rant over, we are now chilling in the beautiful, jungley, friendly, remote Samaipata. We’ve had a good sleep in a lovely room, we’ve had long hot showers, we’ve had a half-day hike through waterfalls and along mountain ridges, we’ve swapped our books for better ones, we’ve eaten apple crumble, and we’ve spotted a local disco.  All is good with us!
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