It's official - I hate Bolivian travel. It's worse than Ryanair.
There is piss and shit on the floor of most Bolivian buses (yes - you've read that correctly) and the seat lottery is a gamble which you can only lose. There are no winners, only those who lose less badly. The game involves getting on the bus and then hoping that the seat you have been allocated has not got some form of human waste on, around or intrinsically built into it. Give me a screaming baby any day.
What adds to the scent of human excrement present in the stagnant air (as the windows don't open properly) is the blaring Bolivian music which consists of panpipes, accordions and industrial and tin-y beats which reverberates throughout the skull. Put that in your pipe, Michael Palin, and smoke it.
Most of this blog entry has been written whilst travelling on such a bus from Tupiza to Potosi. It was pretty awful.
Here´s the prayer that I composed on this particular bus, but it could be used for any in an similar situation:
Please God give me strength to bear this seven-hour voyage of hell Without ripping the speaker above my head from its housing so that it may utter no sound. Please also allow my senses / synapses to shut down for a least a part of this journey so that the smell does not affect me And please clear my mind of thoughts of whatever I am sitting on, standing on or leaning against. In essence, please deliver me from this place as soon as possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment