Flying to Iquitos

My plane ticket said Cusco to Iquitos. My boarding pass said Cusco to Iquitos. So you can imagine my surprise when the plane landed in Lima and the pilot said, "Welcome to Lima. Enjoy your stay." Um....

I gathered up my stuff and yes, I should have asked the question BEFORE I disembarked...but I didn´t. I went to the baggage claim place in the airport...there, I asked the question.

The airline person looked in puzzlement at my boarding pass. "There´s no direct flight from Cusco to Iquitos." No shit.  After showing my pass and telling my story to a few people, one lady said, "You shouldn´t have left the plane." No shit. "It´s leaving in 20 minutes!" Oh shit.

I was not permitted to go back the way I came - security. I had to go through the airport proper, go through security, the whole rigmarole. An air hostess who was going that way was recruited to help fast track me - she shoved me through the metal detectors, explaining things quickly to the security folks. We jogged down the line of boarding gates - mine was at the end...of course. She pointed in the direction I needed to go and told me to RUN to gate 9.

I ran. The guy was waiting for me at the gate and ushered me into the corridor leading to the plane. I ran down the corridor, with visions of a plane full of glaring, angry passengers....but no, folks were still settling in.

I found the seat I had occupied just 35 min ago. sigh. FLIGHT TIP: When in doubt, ask BEFORE you get off the plane.

We landed in Iquitos at around 8pm and immediately I could feel the heat and humidity. When I got to the terminal there was a porter there with my name. Ok...didn´t really need a porter...he grabbed my stuff and then escorted me outside - where we were assailed by a barrage of taxi and mototaxi drivers. The porter walked past them all to one in particular, and when we got to his car the porter waited...oh I need to tip you do I? grrrr didn´t need a bloody porter...

Iquitos is the largest city that you have to either fly into or boat into - there are no roads or rails to this place. Cars are a real luxury and are not very common. I was quite scary to watch this taxi guy dodging motorcycles stacked with entire families on them.

We finally arrived at my hostel - in a pitch black street...oh dear. He honked his horn and the door opened. A guy came out to grab my bags. "Welcome to the Flying Dog - we have no power." Great.

The taxi asked for a ridiculous 20 soles for the trip - I had paid 6 in Cusco. Oh....it´s going to be one of those places.

Bolivia Bound

After a nice breakfast with the girls I headed down the street to the bus station. While I was waiting a guy pulled up to a nearby store...on his horse! How cool is that!??

When the bus arrived, I saw that some bloody foreigner was in my seat! I had specifically asked for the front seat on the top level of the bus. When I mentioned to the offender that she was in my assigned seat, she grumbled, but moved. The guy sitting in the seat next to mine made sure no one else was coming before he reclaimed that seat. They were a group of 4 Germans.

During the course of the trip he took out some coca leaves to help against altitude sickness. They say that if you chew coca leaves (yes, the same plant that makes cocaine) it will stop you from getting altitude sickness. So, I´m watching him from the corner of my eye...he takes out his little coca bag; selects each leaf carefully, putting them in a little pile on his knee. Then he puts his little coca bag away. Then he takes each carefully selected leaf and carefully removes any stem that may be attached and puts them back into a little pile on his knee. Then he takes out some tissues and his spring water and starts to clean each leaf, front and back, carefully folding the tissue after every wipe and placing the leaves back into a little pile on his knee. Then he put his water away in his pack and put the tissues back into his pocket. THEN he carefully places one leaf at a time in his mouth and chews them individually for a few seconds..OMG can you say OCD!

...Other than that the trip was uneventful until we reached La Quiaca - here I had to get off the bus and walk to the border. It was 3 in the afternoon, the sun was hot, there was not a soul around, it´s 3400m above sea level, and I´m again carrying my pack (I´m SO glad I went with the small pack!!!)

After a 10 min walk I see it - a bridge; some flags; a giant ditch; lots of garbage; and a pig. The German team comes out from a street ahead of me and we all head towards the bridge.



The ditch



The line for customs seemed quite long so we hunkered down and waited. There were people though, who seemed to just breeze through - I don´t know if they were Bolivians or Argentinians, but it was a little annoying to have a constant stream of people passing by when your line only moved every 10 minutes...no, I´m not exagerating. I found out later that there were only 2 guys manning the station that day, maybe because it was Sunday, I dunno.

SO, we´re all waiting. One of the German girls looks not quite right, probably the altitude. Waiting. People passing. Waiting. Dogs passing. Waiting. Kids on bikes passing. Waiting. Moms with babies passing...this one stops next to me, holding her toddler by the armpits....the kid spews. Nice. The German girl looks like she´s gonna pop too - her friend tells her something and she quickly looks away, holding her hand over her mouth, dry heaving.

...People continue to pass, sometimes missing the vomit, sometimes not....the smell is over powering and I really hope the line will move a little faster.

It takes me about 2 min to get my stamp when I finally get to the window. The walk over the bridge is a bit weird - there are military guys on both sides. Then I have to go through Bolivian customs...there´s only one guy at this window...and he´s in his t-shirt and jeans. The room is tiny and there are heaps of people there, but it does go more quickly...then voila! I´m in Bolivia!



Villazon is the Bolivian side of the border...and as with most border towns it seems a little dodgy and nasty. My plan had been to stick around for one night and take the train the next day to Uyuni, but I´m not sure I can stay in such a place. As I walk by the bus station, which is just up the street from the border, a lady asks me if I want to get a bus to Tupizia. Hmmmmmm. I think about it for 5 seconds, while I watch the homeless man pick through the garbage, grabbing some chicken bones left behind by someone else. Yes, I would like to go to Tupizia - I know I can get a tour of Uyuni from there too. She tells me that the bus leaves at 5. It´s now 10 minutes to 5 - fantastic, I don´t have to wait too long.



Yeah, right. The bus finally leaves an hour later...and when I say bus I mean passenger van. They crammed about 20 people AND all their stuff in a van that seats 12! I had chosen the front seat; On one side is the driver, and on the other side a mom and her 6 year old on her knee. Oh, dear...I wonder how long this is going to take.

After dropping off people in the middle of nowhere (literally!) we arrived at Tupizia (2850m) an hour later. I randomly walk down a street and come across a hostal (Valle Hermosa) and wander in - single room, shared bathroom? $7. I love this country already.

There´s a 4 day tour of the Uyuni province leaving tomorrow, would I like to join? $190 ....includes driver, cook, accoms, meals.

I had looked at tours for this region before leaving and they cost, bottom end, $2000.

...guess where I went next...



Stay tuned for part deux of Eating, snacking and lip smacking...







Magic bus

Forget what you know about long distance bus travel. Unless of course you've traveled in South America - Suite style.


Because the rail system has a tragic history, they have made bus travel the way to go if you can't afford the plane. You have the choice of the regular bus; semi-cama (half bed) where it reclines to 160 degrees; or the full cama suite - 180 degrees...oh yeah, baby! Not only do you get to recline all the way, no, no, you also get your own screen with a choice of movies, music, or tv shows. AND it doesn't end there -They SERVE you dinner on the bus! HOW AWESOME IS THAT??!



Now, as taking the bus is a step down from taking the plane, so too, bus food is a step down from plane food - and that's saying a lot. I really wish now that I had taken a picture of my dinner so that I could share with you...but alas, after the trials of the day, what with the foot and the ATM card...well, I didn't have the presence of mind to do it. I shall endeavour, however, to convey to you this culinary delight.

Initially, the waiter brought us all a tray with 1 slice of ham, 1 green olive, 1 small roll, 1 "jam" roll (hint: wasn't jam), and 1 brownie. Shortly afterwards he came with the piece de resistance...Saffron rice with peas and carrots (I use the term saffron very broadly, the rice was yellowish in colour); a disk of some sort of meat (still unknown) swimming in a gelatious white "sauce". It was remarkably bland but filling. Oh, and that "jam" roll...I'm going to have to say that I think it was rolled with pate. Yes, the doughy part was sweet. It was a bit weird. The brownie was delicious though!

You wish you could look this good after spending the night on a bus...


Breakfast anyone? It was handy too, that they had a coffee/tea station so you could help your self when you had a hankering...but have you ever tried to carry a hot beverage the length of a moving bus - trying really hard not to spill scalding liquids on other passengers? Not easy, let me tell you!


 

For lunch we stopped in a small village and had a hot meal...I had the ravioli con carne...

Overall, gotta say that it was a rather enjoyable trip! I think I´ll sign up for another one Puno to Cusco.