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Bob and Nicks excellent adventures
Yet again we were letting the dice decide what was to happen in our lives.
Today I am wearing the denim shirt, normal trousers and walking boots. I also
have normal hair. Bob is wearing normal attire, but sporting a side parting.
Breakfast time and I am in for a treat, I have a chicken sulteña and a glass of
coke, Bob has nothing to eat but is rewarded with a glass of water. I am feeling
somewhat hungover from the previous night having been given a rackload of
alcohol, including a couple of beers, a tequila slammer, cuba libre and a white
Russian, this all while bob remained relatively sober. This wasn't helped by the
dice's decision to give me a fruit salad for dinner whilst bob chomped through a
steak.
Spanish proceeded without misadventure and we headed for the joyride for a spot
of lunch. Rewards were due, I needed water that didn't arrive, instead I was fed
a shot of the local singani, this, needless to say did nothing for the hangover
and drymouth. Food was ok for me and I had a mushroom soup, bob, having not
eaten through the day was happy to roll for an hawaiian sandwich.
Post lunch, we managed to get an hour or so to sit in the sqare and watch the
world go by. Luckily enough, a shoe shine boy (well, several) approached and as
my boots were in need of a clean I got them done. the little scamp ripped me off
for 10 bolivianos, whilst others were charging 1...ohh what a cheeky chap.
having sat there for some time, it was time to head back to the hostel for a
couple of hours before going for our designated meal time at 8. We spent a bit
of time in the hostel, plying/not playing the guitar and learning/not learning
spanish. Which, as a matter of fact was quite amusing because we rolled the dice
to decide whether we would do our homework, and this was in front of the
teacher...I couldnt do mine, but Bob had to spend a total of two hours more or
less learning some spanish, which he enjoys sooo much.
Time for some drinks. To joyride for a cup of tea..solo for bob...then to
bibliocafe where a couple of beers were had. Variouss drinks later and it was
time to go to Salfari, the dice's choice. Having got to Salfari, and Salfari
being closed..cheers dice...we rolled again desperatekly hoping not to get a
street stall. we rolled the music place that we had previously been to. Both of
us pretty ravenous, we got in and ordered a couple of drinks. I managed somehow
against the odds to get a shot again, this time of rum which was particularly
tasty!!! but....the dice was to come through for us...both being hungry and not
in the mood for another dessert we were lucky enough to get a treat. Bob managed
to get the third most expensive thing on the menu, which was a uge f***-off
pizza, while i got a stinking trout, but a much needed and quite filling trout!!
Even the kids outside did ok and got the left over portions of pizza that bob
couldnt stomach. A few drinks and it was time for bed...i was now desperate for
some water, but...no drink allowed, not even from the stinking tap!
Day 4 the finale
I am wearing the same but have a side parting, bob is in normal attire but has
had to gel his hair back,smooth style.
The dice couldnt have done it better...I was reeling because i had to smoke 30
fags again but the dissapointment of the day was overcome by the fact that bob
looked like a d*** with his hair proper gelled back. It was completely solid and
he didnt rate it one little bit.
Anyway, i found a good way to smoke alot of fags in a short period of
time....you can have five or six on at onc and at most all you have to do is
smoke one...the rest will burn in their own time. So, i got ten in before
breakfast!
We headed to el patio for breakfast, where i got another chicken sulteña and
biob got nothing. Fortunately he was still full up from the huge pizza. Being
really dehydrated by this stage i would have loved a cold water, but instead had
to settle for a hot water...but when your thirsy you cannot complain.
Off to spanish with bob looking like a wally and me in the same stinking clothes
and sporting a greasy side parting. Apparently though, the Bolivian chicas love
combed back hair, especially if its blonde, but this was coming from the same
woman who told us that there are loads of chicas at the mitos club, when in
reality there are none. Spanish again was ther usual fun and luckily the dice
allowed me to rehydrate a bit more with a connamon tea, while bob sat drinkless.
I think our teacher though we were a bit crazy but she seemed to find the whole
thing quite amusing. This lesson was particularly funny because as bob doesnt
really enjoy the learning of spanish i taught him how to say "i prefer tio
scratch my balls than learn spanish" a very important phrase that went down well
in the lesson, haha. Also the home work assignment was something to do with
writing down how you usually spend new year. Bob being bob wrote that usually
they hire a prostitute to love me. This was funny becasuse in all seriousness
our teacher asked if we wanted to get a prostitute before we left sucre. "theyre
only 15 bolivianios for two" she told us, to which we diplomatically said wed
give it a miss, but thanks for the thought.
After spanish, again time for lunch and a much needed drink of water...I had a
go at finally getting some water...but you cant hold out too much hope when the
dice is in control. Food was good, i had another soup and bob a chicken
sandwich. But drinks...f*** me...the first thing i rolled for was another
stinking shot of singani...all i needed was water for f***s sake. This all while
bob leisurely drank an ice cold orange juice. After the shot i rolled
again...surely i must get a thirst quencher this time.....another 4 and another
shot of singani.What are the chances of that, not f***ing high. I had my head in
my hands by this time...drained of life force. So i sank it, Bob sank another
orange juice and i rolled again. Hoof***ingrah, not a shot, an iced cappuccino.
it wasnt the desired rehydration, but i think i might have died if i had had
another shot.
Things couldnt have got much worse for me at this stage with a 45 min gym
session to hack. We walked accross town to the gym and went in. On the journey
there "no Nick you cant have any water" said the dice.
We got there and got under way, i felt like s*** and stank of booze, basically
looking like a tramp in a denim shirt and walking boots. Bob didnt look too much
better.
A few presses in and i politely....i repeat politely asked the dice if i could
drink a bit of water out of the scummy tap in the corner....another stinking NO.
After the gym i was in a desperate state, for one thing i still had quite a few
fags left to smoke but the lack of moisture in my mouth along with the general
dehydration just wouldnt let it happen.
There were a few questions to ask the dice in this state; Can i buy a drink-no
Can bob buy a drink-yes
Can i have a sip of bobs drink-no
So still, things were looking deperate. Back at the hostel there were various
instances when questions were allowed an i managed to go for a piss, but noty
have a drink. I was screwing by this stage an desperate. Luckily there was
another window of opportunity when we got to go to a cafe overlooking the
square. On the way i was allowed a sip of the water that bob bought, but no
more. Bob was pretty hydrated and so wwasnt too amused when he got a sparkling
water in the cafe. I, on the other hand though that all my christmas's had come
at once when two cold waters were delivered one after the other. I cant explain
the joy i felt, i went from being a miserable dehydrated tramp......to a
miserable rehydrated tramp. Some guy at the cafe tol us a taale of a paragliding
misadventure before we headed off to the hostel.
the dice had decided that we would eat at 11, and luckily it wasnt at a market
stall, but at Salfari. So being allowed to go out for drinks beforehand we
managed to get a couple of beers amongst others, before heading to salfari. A
hassle of a walk, during which no local person seemed to know where the s***ting
place was, brought us to the required destination. It goes pretty much with the
comedy of bolivia, one guy we asked in a shop where Salfari was shoted down the
road to his daughter or something to come and give us directions, but when she
cane to help, he proceeded to tell her she was wrong and told her where it was.
It was a bizarre affair, but as is bolivia in general.
In safari, surrounded by a load of locals and looking like a wierd pair of
gringos...yeah not just gringos but wierd gringos we sat down and oredered some
drinks. I had a glass of milk first off but it didnt feel quite right just
ordering this so we rolled for our second and got an additional wine for bob and
a beer for me. Pretty soon, after assessing the situation it became apparent
that this was justa bar and didnt sell food. you have to bear in mind that its
about 11.30 and all the food places are unlikely to be open. Having had this
realisation we hastily fininshed our drinks a walked with a pace up the street
looking for somewhere to eat......nowhere. Pissed off and hungry we continued
but it was all in vain.
Strinking motherf***ing dice!!!!!
It was now about time to f*** the dice off..creeping up o midnight and the end
of the dice game we were faced with the only alternative.....We sought out a
street stall and bought the scrag ends of her stock. Two pissy hotdogs covered
in some ambiguous s***, mayonnaise and mustard. They were such a treat!!!!
Thank f*** that the dice game ends here...now all we had to worry about was
whether we would see revenge of the scanky hotdog!
Stinkin Salt Flats
We had lazed around in Sucree for long enough and unfortunatly the time came when we had to leave and head towards the stinkin salt flats of bolivia neer s***hole Uyuni. The bus trip was pretty s***ty and we had the pleasure of stopping in Potosi (highest city on earth) for a 2hr lunch break. This provided plently of bolivian comady as we set about finding somewhere to eat which looked like it wouldnt make us s*** ourselves. Bolivians have a horrible affection for stinkin chicken and if your not careful you can find yourself in horrible dive of a place surrounded by bolivians huddled over plates of luke warm stinkin chicken.... Well we were careful, and still managed to find ourselves in one such place. A bowl of rancid chicken stock anbd a hunk of dodgy lookin chicken later and we continueed the bumpiest ride of our lives down to Uyuni - 4 days later and our pants are clean ( well their not as we never bother to change or wash um, but they aint s***ty).
Basically Uyuni is surviving as a place because of us Gringos coming to see the salt flats, its basically a poor mans frans Joseph. All the tour companies are lined up in a row so by the laws of competition you should expect Price down and quality up, or here in bolivia price down. We trecked backwards and forwards and got a 3 day tour in a 4wd for 32 quid which is pretty f***in cheep but the selling point was our group of six were english speakers, a couple of Ozzys and your token Irish. Deal done, we were to set off at 10.30 prompt.
Up early to treck around sorting s*** out, more frustrating bolivian moments, no cash machine, wont change 1 american dollar because its to low (although probably hasnt got enough money in his stinkin exchange to change 10) and we arrive at the agency 10.30 prompt. Mujer Boliviana is lookin worried and tells is its gonna be 10.45...no worries, but theres no one else there...The Irish cant be close because we cant smell it.
12.00 and we are pissed off, standard bolivian service so we are kept in the dark about any possable problem. ( we find out later that then women is phoning every male in the area to try and find a driver). We guess by this point that the token irish and the ozzys aint going to appear and we have probably been f***ed over..... but finally sometime later and f***in late we get led out to an awaiting 4x4!!!!!.....and to our complete supprise our group is comprised of 2 spaniards and 2 Samericans....A great english speaking group then!
Things go from bad to worse when 1hr into the journey part of a wheel falls off and we have a blow out and are stuck outside while our skinny driver who has spent the morning chewing Coca leaves puts on the spare. This puts us about 3hrs behind schedule but for some reason our driver is still driving more slowly than other 4x4 who speed past us every now and then. ( we later find out that the driver isnt a driver, this is his first time, he doesnt know where hes going, probably never been on the salt flats before and is by no stretch of the imagination a 'Guide'). The first hint to his lack of knowledge comes as it gets dark at about 7pm and we are lost on the flats with no other car in sight. The final member of our tour is a comady mujer boliviano (bolivian women) in full unattractive bolivian dress who luckily knows where we are going. Her official role, is cook.. because men dont cook and women dont drive...you need both.
The salt flats are amaizing and over the course of the 3 days we get to see some awsome landscapes, lakes of different colours, thermal stuff, this and that...To be fair bolivia has the landscape. Our group turn out to be sound and as they all from anywhere but england they are pretty much fluent in english anyway. We name our driver 'roy the boy' after matlocks famous skinny s***arse alchy who looks so alike. Roy provides many comady moments. On the second day at every stop off, we arrive later than other cars and set off first because he is so damn slow. We arrive at the hostel so late that we dont have a room for the whole group so initially they gave us 2 a kindof coal shed of a room which was so bad is hard to describe. The wind chill in this place gets down to -40 and we have a room with no proper roof, no floor, no insulation and two damp beds propped off the sand by a couple of bricks...f*** that! we have to share beds in the other room and our 'guides'sleep in the kitchen! We set off 2hrs before eveyone else at 4am just so we can get back at Roys speed and are then gradually overtaken by every single car before the climax of the shambles of this tour...We run out of Petrol!!!! Could it get any worse?? Actually Roy had let the car run out of fuel twice before, the most amusing of which came when he didnt let us stay at one of the attractions ( a pink lake) for more than 5 mins because we were behind time, and then 10 mins down the road we Konk out and he has to siphon gas from the roof which eats up a valuable 20mins. Luckily when we run out for a 3rd time and there is no more gas left roy flags down another car and siphons some from them. Roy had been celebrating with beer and coca to soon and obviously hadnt anticipated this mission because he needed to chomp through a s*** load of coca afterward tro calm himself down.
Roy only repeated one line in the whole trip 'vamos'(lets go), and had as much shame as he had teeth. He would stop the 4x4 and banjo natural(piss) right outside his door in full view. He was an absolute legend and nick told him in spanish that he was his favourate wrestler...For some reason i dont think he had heard of that saying before!
Aside from all these bolivian moments the trip was really good, the group were awsome and the problems soon became funny over a beer back in the warmth! If we dont get our camera stolen in Lapaz we have many decent photos to upload so if you care and have managed to read this far..watch this space.
We are now heading toward the stinkin Jungle for more bolivian moments no doubt....At the moment we are waiting to get some money from a bank. Everytime we go in they tell us to come back in an hour....thats 3 hrs ago.....We 1st headed toward a cafe to pass the first hour and drank coffee that tasted more like Tea. Viva Bolivia!!!! I dream of Buenos Aires!
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