We awoke fresh as can be in La Paz, ready to see the highest lake in the world: Lake Titicaca. Oh we had plans, yes we did. We would arrive at the lake by noon and enjoy a lavish buffet of fine bolivian delicacies, and then we'd board a catamaran to take us to Isle Del Sol, the very birth place of the Incan Empire. Excited we were, oh yes indeed.
So onto the bus we boarded. Cuddled two by two into our pleasantly uncomfortable seats. Not a problem, oh no. We are travelers here to rough it. Moments later we arrived outside a Hostel International hostel. Shortly after a number of grimy brits, all stinking of stale booze with an equally sour look on each of their faces, infested our bus. (note to self: I do not miss that aspect of backpacking. Thank the lord I have become sophisticated) (readers note: some of my best friends are brits so I'm allowed to hate on some travelers. In fact we met a couple of people from BC who were so awful I considered telling people we were american, but that's another story)
Anyways, onwards we drove, out of the city and out into the countryside. But wait. Aren't we suppose to be surrounded by lovely bolivian scenery passing by? The scenery looked awfully brown. Not lovely at all. In fact it looked suspiciously like the scenery described in our travel guide under the heading: THE ROUTE NOT TO TAKE TO LAKE TITCACA. Hmmmmm....
And then it came... the brief notice that the other (read: more scenic and quicker) road to Lake Titicaca had been washed out in a flash flood and we would be taking the long way around. Not a problem, we can go with the flow.
And as we were going with the flow our own bladders begin to overflow. Molly and I began to bounce uncomfortably in our seats as we realized we had overlooked the fact that there was no washroom on board. So Molly, being the take action kind of girl she is, asked the driver to pull over. Anywhere. Pronto. Ten minutes they said. But in Bolivia ten minutes is not the same as in Canada. Nope. For each canadian minute you can add an additional 5 bolivian minutes. As I watched my sister bite her nails down to nubbins and point out every passing pee-able spot, I began to wonder if we shouldn't have bought a P-mate; the tool that allows women to pee standing up. Just as I was considering how to MacGyver our own P-mate the bus pulled over and we rushed to the ladies. Only to find it locked. There in the middle of nowhere we found ourselves a toilet behind locked doors, which would not or could not be unlocked. Deep breath. We'll squat. Yep. Squat we did right next to the horrified brit boys who were relieving themselves behind a wall. Sorry emergency.
Three hours later, we found ourselves at the border crossing. Which was funny because we weren't actually suppose to be going across the border. We were suppose to be going to Copacabana, Bolivia. Not crossing to Peru until later. Hmmmm...
But we were good little tourists and lined up to have our passports stamped. Time ticked and we waited. The brit kids bitched, we waited. Our catamaran departure time passed, we waited. Mom got a little heat strokish, we waited. Finally, an hour and a half later, our passports were stamped and we boarded the bus. So no bolivian delicacies buffet, no Isle Del Sol, no nothing but a stamp in our passport and one nauseated mom.
I could go on. I could tell you about the confusion of everyone being told they had to pay their fare a second time because their tickets had mysteriously disappeared. I could tell you about the brits who screamed and stamped their feet forcing the bus to pull over when they refused to pay. I could tell you about the second time we crossed the border a mere 35 miles from the other border and then crossed back to Bolivia by foot because the bus couldn't cross the border. But it wouldn't matter. Because in the end our little tour guide who's name escapes me, came through and delivered a very sweet alternative which had us out on a private boat cruising around Lake Titicaca and checking out the floating islands created entirely of reeds. So the crap travel day turned out to be not so bad because he made an effort and we decided to go along with it. After all it's what you have to do when you're on the road. Just go with the flow... as long as there's a toilet near by.
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