Bolivia

After three days here, Chris and I have already had enough of La Paz: we're off to the jungle! Today, we hopped on a plane with Línea Aérea Amaszonas, and flew north to the town of Rurrenabaque. It was either a 50-minute flight, or a 20-hour bus ride on a very bad road. Seeing that we've already done the whole long-bumpy-dangerous-road-to-the-jungle thing in Peru, we opted for the former. In Rurrenabaque, we're going to go exploring the pampas and the jungle. Should be fun.

After only three days in this country, it's already clear: "en Bolivia, no hay" (lit: "in Bolivia, there isn't"). "No hay" is by far the most common answer to all the many questions that I've asked people so far in this country. Dinner? "No hay". Change? "No hay". Internet? "No hay". Buses? "No hay". Cake? "No hay". Anything to drink, other than Paceña beer? "No hay". Welcome to Bolivia, the country where whatever the hell it is you're looking for, it's guaranteed that you won't easily find it. No matter how simple it seems, no matter how likely you'd think it is that they have it, nope: "no hay".

Good budget deal in the middle of La Paz, pretty close to all the action. The traffic is a bit noisy and can wake you up in the morning (the traffic is horrible in central La Paz) — and they have a strange habit of cleaning the bathrooms at 8am in the morning — but otherwise, no complaints. Not the most social place I've ever stayed at, but certainly better than Tambo de Oro, where I was last night (doesn't merit a write-up, as it's not worth going to at all). If you want the real party scene, then of course you have to stay at Loki.

After we finished our guided tour of the Tiwanaku ruins this afternoon, our guide told us that there was one more little section left for us to see, if we wanted to have a look at it. But we had to hurry, because it was 4:30pm, and all the ruins closed at 5pm. So Chris and myself (Pascale elected instead to sit and smoke) went to check them out. However, even at 4:40pm, we were too late — already shut. Closing earlier than advertised is a popular pastime, here in Bolivia.

For a nice, relaxed day of Sunday ruins, today Chris, Pascale and myself went and visited the ruins of Tiwanaku, which are just an hour's bus ride out of La Paz. Tiwanaku is the home of the Tiwanaku culture, an ancient people that built themselves an empire upon the altiplano of Bolivia, long before Inca times, and that were most likely the ancestors of many modern-day Aymara-speaking Bolivians.

For our first dinner tonight in La Paz, Chris, Pascale and myself found a great local joint, that gave us soup, juice, and a plate of steak and rice, all for just Bs. 3.50 (about $AUD0.50)! Not bad tasting, either (and we didn't get sick from it, as a further bonus). As Chris said: "I think that this is the cheapest meal I've had. Ever. In my whole life." I can probably say the same for myself. Apart from the weird payment system, it was one hell of a cheap and awesome dinner.

During our bus journey from Copacabana to La Paz this morning (after first buying our tickets), we had to cross over Lake Titicaca at one point, where the lake is very narrow, and where you'd otherwise have to drive around for a very long way. They have a pretty cool ferry system at this spot, where they ferry cars &mash; and buses! — across on wooden rafts. They also ferry people across, on little motor-boats. Fun little interruption to an otherwise eventless journey.

This morning, Chris and I caught a bus from Copacabana to La Paz. But before we could get the bus, we had to buy our tickets. And as with everything in Bolivia, buying bus tickets is a process unlike what you'd expect it to be.

We finished our morning's hike to the northern end of Isla Del Sol, just in time to reach the town near the northern ruins, 15 minutes after the last public boat back south took off. We got there at 2pm, and the boat had left at 1:45pm. Bit of a bummer: especially since various locals had assured us that the boat didn't leave until 2pm. But hey, I guess you can't exactly trust the locals' word around here. Anyway, we had to share the cost of a private boat back instead.

Ralph's a retired primary school teacher, who — when he's not hiking in exotic locations around the world, such as Nepal — enjoys living a quiet life on his hobby farm in north-western Tasmania. Met him on Isla Del Sol this morning, on our hike to the northern end of the island; and ended up chatting to him a fair bit about life and travel. Real character, and an incredibly warm guy.