Samaipata and getting to Sucre

So the supposedly short and easy shared taxi trip from Santa Cruz to Samaipata turned out to be quite an adventure in it's own right. We arrived at the very nondescript taxi place and didn't have to wait long to get going as an English guy, Nick, was there already waiting. The driver leaves when four people arrive, but the three of us decided to share the cost and pay the little extra to get going immediately.

After driving about 10 minutes we are forced to take a detour off the main road as there was a demonstration or something up ahead (very common in Bolivia apparently). The driver knew the area well though, so he heads off along dirt back roads and it doesn't seem to be any problem. But then we come across a very sandy section of track, and the driver looks a bit dubious (a truck just down a bit from us was currently getting towed out of mud by a local tractor). The car in front of us managed to get through though, so our guy gives it a go and promptly gets the car well and truly buried in the sand. So after about 20 minutes of digging with a borrowed shovel and using a couple of planks and a good push we manage to get through.

But then about an hour later I have the very first proper car crash of my entire life! The driver was driving too fast, and a jeep was slowing down in front of us. I think our guy thought he'd just overtake the slowing jeep, but then a huge truck was approaching from the opposite direction. He then had no choice but to go into the back of the jeep. None of us were wearing seatbelts (the back seats didn't even have seatbelts), but none of us was in the least bit hurt or injured. The jeep only had superficial bumper damage, but our guy's car had pretty extensive damage (he couldn't open the bonnet, or the passenger door).

So we had to wait around for our driver to persuade a local guy to drive us the rest of the way, as he reckoned his car wouldn't make it to Samaipata. So eventually we arrived a couple of hours late, but none the worse for wear.

Again Samaipata is a lovely little town, this time very little indeed, and we got a lovely place right on the very pleasant main plaza, Paolas. The town is most famous for a nearby archeological site called 'El Fuerte', but also acts as a gateway to the famous Amboro National Park. So after a nice dinner in the town that night with Nick, followed by a few late drinks in one of the local bars (run by a nice Dutch couple with a young Irish lad working there). The next day we organised a full day tour of a section of the national park for the following day. All the operators were much the same, and we only choose the one we did because they already had two people booked (a French couple), and this resulted in a large price discount. Once that was organised we then strolled around the town.

First stop was a local animal refuge about 2km along a lovely country road. It had quite a lot of animals, mostly moneys and parrots, but also a couple of toucans (more toucans!). Some of their moneys were like pets too, and one of the howler monkeys just walked up to me and climbed up my legs, then arms and wrapped himself around my shoulders. Naturally I loved this place, although I was a bit dubious about all the animals being rescued, as there did seem to be quite a lot of them. Anyway, after a drink and a snack we headed back to the town.

So the next morning we were picked up for our tour a little late and then informed that our tour couldn't take place due to rains the previous night (the road had suffered a major landslide a fews days before in which two Argentinians had died, and repairs were ongoing). Instead we were offered a tour of another section of the park, and so we went there instead. It was a lovely all-day hike through ferns forests (apparently the largest fern trees in the world), but apart from one toucan (the smaller, more colourful variety, not the usual 'Guinness Poster' ones) we didn't see much wildlife.

The next day we attempted our original tour again with the same French couple, and this time we got all the way to the start of the hike to be informed by a local hotel manager that the trail was now closed to tourists as it was now private land. After a bit of haggling, and a bribe offer by our guide, we still couldn't continue, so after just a quick photo of a nice lagoon we had to head back down the mountain we'd driven up and find a phone booth to call the tour agency manager. After much discussion it was decided we could do another alternative, and so we set off again.

This tour was very improvised, but turned out to be another great day out. First stop was an amazing viewpoint, looking down on an incredibly positioned lodge (Refugio Volcanes), then a quick stop at a hippie organic farm place (Gingers Place, that turned out to be deserted), before heading to a local waterfall, Cuevas. Here we strolled about the waterfall area and waded in the river before heading off on a long hike through the mountains. It was a great hike, along narrow ridges offering great views, before meeting up again with our car and heading back to Samaipata.

That night we met up for dinner with Orion, the Israeli guide on both our trips. He's a really cool guy, and we had a great chat over dinner about all sorts of things - including the loss of childish innocense, spirituality and the like, and also a lot about life in Israel and living in a kibbutz.

The next day we planned on getting the bus down to our next destination of Sucre, but the buses leave around 8pm. So that gave us all day to check out the famous El Fuerte site (and the small local museum in the town). We got a cheap taxi up to the site (after a wee bit of haggling), spent a good couple of hours strolling around the impressive structures (the main site is craved out of a single huge long bubble of red sandstone), having the place also completely to ourselves before hiking for about 2.5 hours all the way back to the town (via a quick rest stop in a nice German-run restaurant called Baden).

That afternoon Sarah chilled out in the hostel while I did another hike up a nearby hill that was recommended by Orion. Then back to the hostel, picking up our bags and heading out to the main road to try and flag down a passing bus to Sucre.

Earlier that the morning we had tried to book seats on the relatively comfy, expensive bus with two different agencies, but one agency said none of their buses were going to Sucre at all due to a political blockade of the city, while the other agency said one of their buses, the really cheap crappy bus, was leaving that night. I decided that there was no point in paying extra to the agency for a cheap bus, as our landlady had told us that loads of buses would be passing by that night, and so it would be much cheaper to just flag one down.

But as it turned out we ended up waiting almost 4 hours in total, in which time only two buses for Sucre came along, both of which had no seats! So very dispirited we strolled back to our hostel and got a room for another night.

The next morning we went back to the two bus booking agencies again, and this time even the cheap bus was full. So deciding that getting a bus to Sucre would be a nightmare, we instead got a shared taxi back to Santa Cruz, and rushed straight to the AeroSur office, arriving just before they were due to close, but they wouldn't let us in (it was 5 minutes to closing time). Then I wasted 20 minutes on the internet trying to phone the airlines reservations (no answer), before a really nice friendly 'auld lad from the AeroSur office next door told us there was a flight to Sucre but it was leaving in about an hour. He flagged down a taxi for us though and so we hopped in and rushed to the airport.

The taxi driver asked us to confirm which airport we wanted to go to (the town has two), and when we arrive at the airport that I thought the 'auld lad had mentioned I pay the driver and get the bags sorted as Sarah rushes into the very small airport to try and get flight tickets. As the taxi driver pulls away Sarah rushes back telling me we are at the wrong airport! The driver had completely ripped us off by charging us the price for the other, far more distant airport (I really hate taxi drivers, they're the same the world over!). Anyway, now that we were at an airport, and had almost certainly missed the soon-to-leave plane anyway, I decided to check out if we could buy plane tickets from any other airline. It turned out that another airline, TAM, had a flight the next day and they were cheaper than AeroSur (I had of course tried to check all this out on the internet, but the Bolivian airlines have useless or non-existant websites). Anyway, I was delighted, as I really like the town of Santa Cruz so I didn't mind staying another day there.

So we buy the flight tickets, and as we leave we ask the girl how much a taxi back to the centre should be. Sarah thought the girl said 18 Bolivianos (while the first taxi guy had charged us 50, which is still only 5 Euro, but being ripped off is still always so annoying), so we get a taxi outside the airport and he offered to take us for 20, so we took it. It turned out the girl had actually said between 8 and 10 Bolivianos (which was what I had originally thought the girl was saying, but Sarah's Spanish expertise overruled me!), so we actually managed to get ripped off by two taxi drivers in the space of an hour. Still, if your going to get ripped off, the best place in the world must be Bolivia, as everything here is so cheap!

So back in Santa Cruz we have a nice dinner that night in Casona, and then an early night. Next morning I get a big breakfast before using the internet for a few hours to catch up on this blog, and then off to the airport.

Our flight left right on time, but it turned out that the plane first flew to a town 1.5 hours South before taking off again after 25 minutes and then flying back North for an hour. A direct flight would have only taken 30 minutes, but after 3 hours we arrive in Sucre. It was a lot more confortable than the 17 hours the bus could have taken though (and we've since heard horror stories of people having to walk for hours because of the continuing political blockades).