Somehow Guido managed to convince me that going to Tarija for the day would be a good thing to do. I was not very convinced, but never-the-less I went.
One of the "bigger" smaller buses, this was our bus.
The Journey There
Having only ever travelled on the larger buses, called "Flotas" it was a new experience to travel on the smaller bus. Much later I find out that the larger buses are much more dangerous on these roads because of the width of road they need at each corner to turn. Even these larger buses however are not very big compared to the common 52 seater Greyhound type bus.
Waiting for the bus to leave in Entre Rios.
Travelling with Guido provided me with an opportunity to ask about some of the things I did not quite understand. I learned that vehicles heading downhill must give way to the ones coming uphill. That means that if two vehicles meet where they cannot pass (most of the journey) then the uphill vehicle must reverse along those narrow roadways until they reach a section of road where you can pass.
One of the many crosses on the edge of the road.
A little boy that was travelling in the bus with us.
I also learned that the dozens of crosses on the edges of the road were in memory of people that had died after going off the edge of the road. A stark reminder that these places are dangerous. Guido also told me of "El Camino de los Muertos" (Road of the Dead) near La Paz where the road is literally etched into a rock cliff with only a hand-span either side of the bus. One side is sheer rock wall. The other side is a sheer precipice so deep that nobody ever survives the fall.
Our narrow dirt road hugging the mountain sides.
Looking back down the valley that we had just climbed.
We were not travelling this road of the dead, but it was still not a very safe road. At one point we passed a bus that had collided with another vehicle. It was left on the side of the road and the damage was so severe that it was unlikely that the driver would have survived the crash.
Passing by the smashed up bus.
A newly repaired section of road.
As this was a common bus, we stopped for people all along the route. They would wait patiently by the side of the road for the bus to come along and hail it like any other bus. If people wanted to get off then they would say, "me quedo" meaning "I am staying." This is different to Argentina where they say "I am getting off."
A family hailing the bus.
Clouds creeping down the valleys of mountains near Tarija.
Back In Tarija
Our bus had left at midday and dropped us off in Tarija at 4pm. There had been no stops for lunch and by now we were very hungry, although no restaurants or food stands were open at this hour. So to fill our hunger, we stopped and bought some popcorn, torta-frita, and another fried delight with melted cheese inside.
The ladies cooking Torta-fritas.
Guido changing his money in a Toyota spare parts store.
Our goal for coming to Tarija was to purchase some items that we needed for our plumbing process back at the mission. However, after Guido had withdrawn his money, we caught up with Pepe, the mission leader, and discovered that the mission already had what we had come here for.
Pepe in the Landrover.
Instead, we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with Pepe, picking up Fineke who would be teaching in the Leader's Retreat in the morning and eating a lovely steak at a Chinese BBQ restaurant.
Coffee shop in the main plaza where we picked up Fineke.
The steaks could be accompanied by chinese foods if you liked.
The journey back to Entre Rios was in the Landrover owned by the mission. Every bus journey had been 4 hours, so when we left at 8.30pm I expected us to be back just after midnight. Our journey only lasted 2.5 hours however, getting us back to Entre Rios by 11pm.
One interesting incident along the way was passing a bus parked in the middle of the road (at a section just wide enough to pass it) with smoke pouring out of its two rear wheels. The smoke streamed out thick and strong, as from a chimney of an industrial factory. All around stood the passengers, watching the scenario and unable to do anything about it. One brake soul had climbed underneath to poke around a bit. Their only option was to wait an hour or so for it to cool down and then try to fix the problem.
It had been a long day by the time we got back, and sleep was my only focus by then. I gladly slumped into the comfortable bed that had been provided for me and dozed off.
The Landrover that we returned in.