After death road we thought we would stay in one of the towns down there. Coroico is a popular place for middle class visitors from La Paz to enjoy a long weekend due to its warm climate and it's relative closeness. We were there mid week so it was pretty much dead which we were fine with as we needed somewhere quiet to recharge our batteries. Sol y Luna in Coroico was the perfect place for this. It is a good 20 min walk up hill from the main plaza but is surrounded by lush green bush and lots of beautiful bright flowers. They offer yoga, meditation and massages to help you unwind. It also has a couple of pools which I was pretty keen to chill out by with my book the next few days. Unfortunately we woke up to the sound of tiny drops of rain on our windows so reading inside it was.
The rain stayed around for the three nights we were in Coroico . After the last time we had experienced rain in Copacabana we had decided that the next rainy day we would relax and not feel like we have to go out and do something.
Because of this and the rain making the roads and paths a muddy mess we didn't get to go out and enjoy any of the local walks. But the hostel provided a nice base to chill out and catch up on some blogging.
Because of this and the rain making the roads and paths a muddy mess we didn't get to go out and enjoy any of the local walks. But the hostel provided a nice base to chill out and catch up on some blogging.
Of course the day we went to leave the sun came out as is always the way. It was a Friday too so there was a lot of traffic coming up from La Paz. We had been told to pick up our bus tickets from a place near the main square in Coroico at 11.30 in the morning but first Jake and I needed to change some money over. We knew that there was nowhere to get money out in town so had brought enough coin with us but most of it was still in USD. Arriving at the square it seemed to be full of people coming out to enjoy the sunshine. The problem for us was nothing seemed to be open - both banks and the western union building were closed. The tourist information place was open but with no one around and we really needed to change our money over get our tickets and head down the hill to a tiny village, Yolosita, to catch our bus.
After waiting for a bit I talked to a few of the locals and I was told that the banks wouldn't be open till 2pm that day which was the time our bus was supposed to pick us up. Hoping the garden bar/tourist info place where we booked our bus tickets would accept American dollars I raced down to find the place closed as it also doesn't open till 2pm. Ringing the bell for what felt like eternity finally the Bolivian lady who served us drinks the day before and speaks not one word of English opened up. With my limited Spanish I managed to ask about the bus tickets and maybe using the little bit of Bolivianos I had left with a mix of USD to pay and she gave me a strange look. Luckily as I was saying this the owner, Carla, who does speak English came down and was more then happy to oblige giving me a fair rate for our American dollars and leaving me with some Bolivianos for food and our collective to the bus. She was actually really lovely and she hadn't been joking the day before when she said our bus ticket would have everything on it from the colour of our bus, to it's car make, license plate and even the bus drivers name. Reaching Jake we hoped into a collective with a French couple, some locals and a whole heap of bananas down the hill to Yolosita.
After waiting for a bit I talked to a few of the locals and I was told that the banks wouldn't be open till 2pm that day which was the time our bus was supposed to pick us up. Hoping the garden bar/tourist info place where we booked our bus tickets would accept American dollars I raced down to find the place closed as it also doesn't open till 2pm. Ringing the bell for what felt like eternity finally the Bolivian lady who served us drinks the day before and speaks not one word of English opened up. With my limited Spanish I managed to ask about the bus tickets and maybe using the little bit of Bolivianos I had left with a mix of USD to pay and she gave me a strange look. Luckily as I was saying this the owner, Carla, who does speak English came down and was more then happy to oblige giving me a fair rate for our American dollars and leaving me with some Bolivianos for food and our collective to the bus. She was actually really lovely and she hadn't been joking the day before when she said our bus ticket would have everything on it from the colour of our bus, to it's car make, license plate and even the bus drivers name. Reaching Jake we hoped into a collective with a French couple, some locals and a whole heap of bananas down the hill to Yolosita.
Now we had been told by another couple staying at Sol y Luna who had caught the bus to Rurrenabaque that they had waited five hours for the bus so we were expecting to wait a while. Because of the rain the road had also been closed so
not much traffic had been able to get through the previous few days. Of course the day you are ever late to a bus stop is the day a bus would be early so we made sure we were down there by one as our ticket said the bus could be there
anytime between one and two pm. Four hours later after waiting in the hot sun, swatting of mosquitos the bus finally arrived from La Paz. At least it gave us time to dry out our shoes from the last few days.
Rurrenabaque is the jumping spot to the Bolivian side of the Amazon where there are plenty of business's running tours into the jungle. To get to Rurrenabaque you can either catch an 18 hour bus from La Paz (or 14 from Coroico) or catch a 45 min plane. Most tourists head for the quick plane ride but as Jake and I were already part way there and had the time we thought we would check out the bus and see what all the fuss was about. If it was that bad we could always catch the plane back.
not much traffic had been able to get through the previous few days. Of course the day you are ever late to a bus stop is the day a bus would be early so we made sure we were down there by one as our ticket said the bus could be there
anytime between one and two pm. Four hours later after waiting in the hot sun, swatting of mosquitos the bus finally arrived from La Paz. At least it gave us time to dry out our shoes from the last few days.
Rurrenabaque is the jumping spot to the Bolivian side of the Amazon where there are plenty of business's running tours into the jungle. To get to Rurrenabaque you can either catch an 18 hour bus from La Paz (or 14 from Coroico) or catch a 45 min plane. Most tourists head for the quick plane ride but as Jake and I were already part way there and had the time we thought we would check out the bus and see what all the fuss was about. If it was that bad we could always catch the plane back.
Hours later we arrived in Rurrenabaque. We had definitely been spoilt in Peru with the quality of their buses and roads.
Our driver was quite good but we barely got over 20kms an hour due to the conditions on the road. The first three
hours to Caranavi was not too bad as they seemed to be upgrading it to tar seal. There was a few hold ups with the road works and some steep edges down to the river below us but after death road I don't seem to be as worried about the
narrow roads as before. At Caranavi the majority of the bus got off. But for us it was a whole night of the bumpiest, slowest bus ride ever. My butt had only just recovered from mountain biking. The bus ride was like being on the bikes again except over bigger rocks and for hours. I'm surprised the bus never got bogged either as some of the mud was super thick and went on for Km's. Somehow I managed to nod off with my body jolting in time to the buses jerky movements. Not my best bus sleep ever and I was excited to get to a hostel bed which we finally stumbled into 16 hours after we began our bus ride. Definitely flying back to La Paz.
Our driver was quite good but we barely got over 20kms an hour due to the conditions on the road. The first three
hours to Caranavi was not too bad as they seemed to be upgrading it to tar seal. There was a few hold ups with the road works and some steep edges down to the river below us but after death road I don't seem to be as worried about the
narrow roads as before. At Caranavi the majority of the bus got off. But for us it was a whole night of the bumpiest, slowest bus ride ever. My butt had only just recovered from mountain biking. The bus ride was like being on the bikes again except over bigger rocks and for hours. I'm surprised the bus never got bogged either as some of the mud was super thick and went on for Km's. Somehow I managed to nod off with my body jolting in time to the buses jerky movements. Not my best bus sleep ever and I was excited to get to a hostel bed which we finally stumbled into 16 hours after we began our bus ride. Definitely flying back to La Paz.
Next time: Into the jungle- Bolivian style