Oh! The drama! How does one effectively explain the antics of Bolivia these past few days and our efforts in getting out of this country, sooner than later!

After our Salt Flats tour we anticipated heading back to La Paz to explore more of the city. We still hand’t checked out the fascinating cable car system that essentially is the air equivalent of a subway system. Brilliantly, the city of La Paz decided it was easier and less disruption to the city to provide public transport in the air rather than dig up the ground! Seriously clever!

There was more of Witches Market we had yet to explore, heaps of architecture to seek out and admire and we were seriously interested in seeing the Cholita Wrestling. A most unusual but popular attraction featuring a Bolivian women’s WWW-inspired wrestling match where a rotund group of women, duke it out in full traditional dress. It might sound like an event not quite up your alleyway, I thought so too, but ‘When in Rome...” as they say. As an aside, I once thought about skipping a ladyboy show in Thailand but changed my mind at the last minute. To this day it remains one of the most fascinating cultural shows I’ve ever witnessed!

Anyway, as is our daily routine (especially important as we’ve been off the grid for 4 days and now planning onward travel), Paul read the world headlines, focusing particularly on the aftermath of the Bolivian election. I checked my Twitter feed, Facebook notices and email for updates from the Canadian, Peruvian and Bolivian Embassies. Much to our collective dismay, though anticipated, Bolivia has gone to pot! 

The general public of Bolivia are divided...many are reeling after President Morales won the election. One news paper reported that deceased residents cast votes in the election while another paper shares news of ballots being burned and another still, that the president was named before half of the votes were counted. The country is aghast; anti-Morales citizens have been protesting and there have been incidents of road blocks, marches and more. 

President Morales and his supporters are now rising up so that their voices can be heard against the masses. Morales has called for a national strike...and wouldn’t you know it, he’s calling for it tomorrow! Curses! Politics...ugh! I know the greater picture is so much more important than inconveniences imposed on our travel plans but nonetheless I am stamping my foot in disappointment. With that said, I have always believed that the difference between adventure and adversity is attitude so, chin up...there’s travel plans afoot!

For several hours we tucked away at a Uyuni resturant and enjoyed a few beverages while we discussed our next plan of attack. We settled on heading north; Chile wasn’t quite settled from similar political disruption (though the city curfews were now lifted!) and it was too early to head to Argentina; the Amazon had to be conquered and the Galapagos was still on the table. So within a couple of hours, a pizza and a few cervezas later, the deed was done....Tomorrow’s plan...Bolivia to Ecuador! Booya!

Well...it wasn’t quite that easy...

The flight from Uyuni back to La Paz went off without a hitch. Anticipating the strike tomorrow, we sought the advice of the airport staff who agreed that heading back into the city was perfectly fine tonight but we’d want to be headed back to the airport no later than 4 am to skirt the impending roadblocks. So, 4 am it was. Our flight didn’t leave until 10 but “All’s well that ends well...” as they say!  

Pfth! Turns out that whomever said that didn’t try to get out of Bolivia hours before a national strike! 

Flights were cancelled. Local flight staff didn’t even try to make it to the airport. Neither did our airline staff in general. A sign was posted to call Customer Service. We did. Turns out Customer Service in India had only one person manning the phone and he swore to God he didn’t have a supervisor that we could talk to and that we should speak to the staff at the airport. An hour later, Paul, exasperated, hung up the phone. 

With nothing else to do but wait, we headed to an airport cafe in eyesight of the airline desk, made friends with some Norwegians who were waiting it out as well and we all ordered coffee. Two hours later, still no airline staff and for a change of pace, we befriended some Germans, walked around, went back for more coffee with the Germans in tow! We were quickly becoming a growing group of stranded international coffee-drinking travellers. 

10:00 am. Airline staff finally showed up. Two of them. What ensued for the next 6 hours was dulling to the senses. Some people were turned away to make their own arrangements; a young Chinese tourist was taken behind the counter and to the back room where presumably someone was helping him translate. Hours later he emerged and we caught the tail end of the conversation which ended with a very confused looking Chinese man being told to call the Air Mexico staff in Lima, Peru! What!??? 

The Norwegians were part of a tour group and were told to wait for the group‘s liaison, leaving the Germans and us. There was a lengthy and animated back-and-forth of initial frustrations and two managers were called in to deal with us and the German contingent! It took 4 staff, 2 computers, 3 cell phones and 5 hours to get the four of us rebooked to our respective destinations. It truly was an exhausting first half of the day and a mesmerizing experience. 

In the middle of it all a politician walked through the building, surrounded by an entourage of guards who kept some 35 people at arms length as they followed close behind chanting and shouting at the politician. After this, there was a small military presence all of whom looked like they just graduated high school and though serious looking, none bore any arms. 

By 3 pm, we were wiped out; we had been at the airport since 4 am and about half of that time was spent in pointed dialogue with the airline contingent. Our new onward journey wasn’t even scheduled to begin until 2 am. We sought the advice of airport staff and they recommended a hotel some 10 minutes’ drive away. It was close enough if the roads were blocked later in the evening, we could walk back to the airport. So off we went.

We managed to catch a few hours sleep and shower up, making us feel a bit more normal. By 10 pm we were back at the airport and bumming around with the Germans again. The Norwegians finally got their flights rebooked but not without paying full fare and told to claim the expenses on their travel insurance. I guess, in the end, we might have been face-to-face with the staff the longest, but it certainly paid off!

So 2 am we were off to Bogotá Columbia for a few hours and then on to Guayaquil Ecuador where we spent the night enjoying the fresh air of the waterfront. We found some great Sushi at a lovely upscale restaurant; our reward for surviving airport drama. 

The next morning we caught a flight to Baltra Island in the Galápagos where a bus took us to a ferry that steamed us arrows a small channel where we caught a pickup truck taxi on Santa Cruz Island which eventually delivered us to Puerto Ayora where we are now. Phew! 

We may be sitting quietly on the equator but I don’t think it was meant to be this much drama getting here. Oh! But how rewarding it is! 

..off to wander the streets and find a new local...me thinks there might be some vino and freshly caught fish in the very near and immediate future!