Finally in Bolivia...

     We finally got on the bus to Campo Grande at around 5:20pm and it was boiling hot since the air con wasn't working. Everyone was shouting about how hot it was and all these old women kept going up to the drivers and shouting at them etc. Some bloke who was European but spoke a bit of Portuguese and looked slightly like Louis Theroux got up and tried to open the sun roof thing, having to force it open and finally breaking it. One of the drivers came out to see what the noise was and pointed at the broken sun roof thing. All the old women laughed at him and pointed out again how hot it was. After about 3 hours drive we stopped and the driver said something. Everyone moaned and got out. We had no idea what was going on so asked the bloke who spoke a bit of Portguese. He didn't really know what was going on either. We spoke to the driver who, through a combination of slow talking and sign language, explained that we were going to stop for a bit then change coach to one that had working air con. We waited outside for round about 2 hours, which was just long enough for the temperature to drop to tolerable levels, before we got onto the new coach which had the air con blasting. We all complained about how cold it was and tried to sleep. After around 5 hours of freezing temperatures, they turned the air con off, just in time for sunrise and the temperatures to start hitting stifling again. So we hit Campo Grande about 8 am ish, got off the bus with the other European bloke. He met a bloke from his tour company who was also from our hostel so we all jumped in a cab together and went to the hostel – this didn't cost us anything, which was great as the cab was 25 reais. We just went straight up to bed as we were both knackered at this point. The hostel was a tiny bit grim – just a TV rack on the wall and a grotty wet room but better than the place we had to stay on our last night in Iguacu. Campo Grande wasn't great – we had the usual walking round for hours looking for somewhere to eat. Everywhere being shut, us finding McDonalds but refusing to go. Eventually we found somehwere and got a decent meal of something. As we were kipping I suddenly felt a bite on my elbow and within 5 mins it had swelled up in 6 different places and was insanely itchy. I moaned about this for about 20 mins until it just went away again. I then forgot about it until around 4 in the morning when I had the same thing again in 7 or 8 different places on my back – mind warpingly, insanely, flesh-tearingly itchy. B woke up as well with similar on her arm and we both realised what bed bugs felt like. We stuck another few sheets on the bed, sprayed ourselves liberally in DEET and went back to bed.
     Got up 6:30 for the next bus. We had decided at this point to try to make it to Santa Cruz in Bolivia without stopping. This meant an early bus, straight to the border and a run to the train station to try and get a ticket for the same day – this was unlikely from what we had read on the internet – various dim-witted Americans who had tried the same journey as us - “The Death Train” was the title of most of these tales. So our bus – which was lovely btw - got to Corumba at 3 and we had to go to the police in the bus station to get our exit visas. The police station was shut but some woman came out and shouted, “Policia fronteira!”, which we guessed meant that they were at the border. We then managed to convince a taxi driver to take us into town to get money, then to the border. We were just about getting the hang of this speaking Portuguese lark now – minutes before we were to leave the country for a Spanish speaking one...
     Border was no bother at all, despite my imagining it was going to be full of toothpick chewing desperados and fat, corrupt border officials it was actually very easy. We got our stamps, changed some money with a fat bloke on a stool and jumped in a taxi. B told me later that the taxi driver kept a gun in his boot – I hadn't noticed this. The taxi on the Brazillian side cost us 40 Reais – about 15 quid. The taxi on the Bolivian side cost us 15 Bolivarios – about £1.50. We decide that we liked this place. We got to the train station and managed to get tickets for that day at 7 – we couldn't get the 'cama' one, just the 'semi-cama'. This basically meant that the seats reclined part of the way instead of all they way. We had some time to spare so wandered around Quijarro town for a bit. We found a sort of bar – sat down and got a coke and a beer. The place was clearly a lot poorer than Brazil – no tarmac on the roads, cars with missing windows etc but we both liked it. There was a parrot in the bar – it kept saying 'Hola' to me but B doesn't believe this. When we came to pay I was very confused about how much she was asking for and how much things were worth. I tried to pay with about 5 Bolivarios for a good few minutes until I realised it was worth about 45p. It eventually cost 15, which is less than £1.50. We liked this place.
     We got to the train station and the train came up – it was only 2 carriages. Inside it was just like the buses in Brazil – plenty of leg room, air con, TVs. We set off and they put a DVD on – Valkyrie – so we watched that because even though it was dubbed in Spanish, they's specially put on English subtitles for us. They brought round our in-flight meal – chips, rice and beef, so we had a few chips and a bit of rice and fruit salad. Rest of the night was spent trying to sleep. It started to get pretty cold and rainy outside. I risked the toilets at around 4am but when I was in there the train stopped and let more people on. B thought I'd got off the train and was a bit worried when I got back. Toilets just like on any British train – basic, floor covered in pee, generally grotty. Later on we got breakfast – cheese sandwich, biscuit and yoghurt. They put another DVD on – that Michael Moore thing about American healthcare – 'Sicko' – we laughed at the Americans for bit. All the Bolivians roared with laughter at some scene where Fidel Castro is portrayed as the devil or something. We rolled into Santa Cruz at around 9ish and it was lashing down with rain. We stood around like fools for a while, trying to work out how to get a taxi and that then managed to jump in one who took us to our hotel – I asked how much and thought he said '50' so we gave him a 50 and he gave us 35 change. The taxi cost £1.50. We like here. Hotel Italia was a massive, 3 storey, 50s looking place run by this ancient, sweet old lady who didn't speak a word of English. We managed to get through the forms and that and got to our room – big, old, 'airy' (it had holes in the wall where the air-con was attached and the window didn't shut fully) but it was nice – 'Electric' shower, so I have to turn it on and off with my hand wrapped in a pair of pants.

     First day in Santa Cruz we had a stroll around, looked for the Indian restaurant we'd heard of but it was too far out of town so we went to the Irish Pub instead. It is actually called 'Irish Pub'. We had a drink and decided to have a little snack of chips and chicken nuggets before going out for dinner proper when the restaurants open – we realised that our big problem was that the food places generally only open at certain times i.e. 12-3 then 8-11pm, which we hadn't realised before – the food came and it was enormous – the nuggets came with chips anyway so we ended up stuffed, just having a few drinks then coming home. We drank some cocktails with more alcohol than mixer (B likes it here). I ordered the cheapest beer on the menu, Bock, and when it came I tried to read the label – I had to check with B what it said but it definitely said '7.2%' (I like it here). The Irish pub had pictures of Ireland on the wall and great Irish writers and that. Full of gringos and well-to-do Bolivians, drinking massive glasses of whisky and eating enormous plates of meat and chips.

     Next day we spent most of in a cafe using their free wi-fi, sorting out where we go from here. Due to what we can gather about Bolivian roads and transport (the taxi driver yesterday had converted the car from right hand drive, leaving all the dials and a massive hole on the right side) we looked at the cost of flights. Flying is relatively cheap so we booked a plane to take us to Sucre on Sunday – 35 quid each and only 35 minutes instead of “12 to 25 hours”. Went to the cathedral and up the bell tower – nice views – hung around the main square a bit, had an ice cream (only took 10 minutes to order that...), ended up back in the Irish pub for dinner as they had chicken curry and veg lasagne on the menu. They all seem to be gearing up for some big festival here – lots of flags and bunting and people setting up PAs and that. I think it's the bicentennial of the town or something, or independence or something – anyway, we'll be gone by the time it starts...

The Cathedral

View from the bell tower

...the bell tower

  
     Today was really cold so basically we're doing the same again, chilling in cafes (mainly to use their free wi-fi) around the square. I bought a jumper for later on – one of these sort of Peruvian llama herder type things.