You know where we are... We're in the Jungle (& Bolivia) baby

Bolivia, where to start... We didn't have much of an image in our heads of what Bolivia would be like, but knew it was bloody cheap, and actually, having no expectations can often be the best approach to new territory. It was also our country of choice for heading into the Amazon jungle. Sick.

Our first, and most daunting cultural learning was that wearing a seatbelt in Bolivia is considered disrespectful to your driver. Sure. This rather neatly sums up what we firmly believe, is a lawless country. Once you've settled in however, to life threatening bus rides and blunt Bolivians, the country has an abundance of rural adventure, all of which we were chomping at the bit for. 

We arrived from the south (La Quiaca, Argentina) and the quintessential images of Bolivia and its people struck immediately. Quite a culture shock, but actually, one that put a grin on our faces and made us realise we could be in for a pretty fascinating ride here. 

We predicted we had about 2-3 weeks to whip around Bolivia, so quickly made the decision not to do the salt flats in Uyuni on our way up north to the main action. This was a decision we perhaps may come to regret, but frankly, we're here to cannonball into filled lakes, not gawp at dried ones...

Our first stop therefore was Sucre - without doubt the better-off part of Bolivia, and therefore not a bad starting point to break ourselves in. The immediate point of note is that Bolivia is OBSCENELY cheap. We ate at the market (and markets beyond) most days, and started off what would become the most glorious daily consumption ritual.

We'd start the day with pints of smoothies for £1 (we've concluded that every juice should have a base of oats, banana and an egg, then fruit-up from there with the phenomenal tropical fruits of the continent like papaya, pineapple and mango). So fresh and so clean. 

Food-wise, Bolivia gets a pretty hard time from travellers' comments. It certainly can't do western food, however the local food is basic but generally pretty good we thought. 

Lunch is the main meal of the day for Bolivians and they tend to go for a menu del dia (menu of the day). Three courses typically consist of a vegetable and quinoa soup to start, meat (often stewed until soft and gentle) rice and veg for main, and either a fresh juice or banana and squirty chocolate sauce for postre. N.b. What was the dark blue bottled squirty sauce brand that dominated ice cream at home in the 90s?

Pretty tough to get bored of anyway, especially at 2 friggin' 50 (£) a pop. Suffice to say we've been able to fully let our budget guard down in this country and it's been a ball being ballers for a few weeks. 

From Sucre we shifted East to where Cleo's sister Faye lived for a while; a little mountainous village called Samaipata, and the gateway to Amboro national park. Amboro is the size of the Netherlands and one of the most bio diverse parks in the world. Here we met a lovely lass from County Durham who was working at our hostel, and intriguingly, looking for two more people to complete a group for an ayahuasca ceremony... No written words can do this night justice, so we simply have to give you the full story in person when we see you.

Hedonism aside, we did a few hikes in Samaipata, and after being reliably informed of its safety and popularity, got into hitch hiking. (Probably not what you want to hear fams, but it's totally kosher and massively liberating). 

Our main trek in Amboro was with our Cambridge educated Bolivian guide, Saul, our first and longed for rural adventure, and was an utterly stunning landscape, straight out of King Kong. 

We swam in one of the Amazon tributaries, saw heaps of weird birds (it's all about mammals and amphibs though isn't it) and hiked through, essentially, Jurassic Park. 

After 50 hours of back to back local buses along dusty farm paths, and a swallowed credit card (cheers akimbo) later, we then arrived in the Amazon Basin, a place called Rurrenabaque. With our new Frenchie friend, Vic, on board, we set off scoping out the various tours into the Jungle and the Pampas. Before we knew it, we had signed up to a program dauntingly named 'The Full Survivor 3 day Jungle tour'. 

It's important to note that there is also a classic tour (staying in idyllic lodges), and a semi-survivor (part lodge, part jungle) tour that are far more comfortable, safer, and cheaper. But, with a nudge from Vic, and a stellar sales pitch from the agency, come Monday, we'd be heading into the Amazon for 3 days with nothing but a change of clothes, 2l of water each, and a line & hook...

On Monday morning, after panic eating a pig portion breakfast, we set off on a stunning 3 hour long-boat ride, gliding past indigenous tribes and lush green rainforest. It was exactly as we'd imagined whilst sitting at our desks in London, and whilst slightly apprehensive, were seriously excited.

Our driver dropped us off on the river side with our carrier bags of clothes, and off we went, unknowingly following our Bolivian guide, Sandro, who reassuringly grew up in the jungle.

After 20 minutes walking along a jungle path, Sandro drew his 3ft machete and slashed down what looked like a giant fern. He turned to us and said 'mochillas' (backpacks). As instructed, I slashed down a couple more of the same tree and we began following Sandro's movements to create these bad boys...

With our new backpacks hoiked, we continued along the jungle path. Before long, Sandro stopped again, snapped off a small twig and begun lightly poking around in a hole beside a tree trunk. This came out...

Taran-tulaaaa! As big as my hand. We've heard if you blow smoke on them it chills them out and you can get some sweet snaps of them on your face, none of us particularly fancied this though, and I couldn't recall a clause on this in our travel insurance. 

After a couple more hours of walking, and with the sun fading, we came to a halt at a small clearing, weeing distance from another river. Sandro showed us the trees we'd need to decapitate to form our shelters, and we got to work. 

We were pretty darn impressed with our shelter, though in hindsight, a few more leaves on top would have been a game changer, as sadly that night, there was a gargantuan rainstorm that resulted in three shivering Europeans without a wink of sleep. 

Hazey eyed and cold, we bid Sandro Buen Dia at sunrise and begged him for a fire and some food. The fire part was a total failure as all the wood was drenched, so we headed to the river with our line & hook, power walking to try and warm up. 

Our only water was out at this point too, but Sandro quickly solved this by hacking down a section of tree for us each, and told us to pour into our mouths...

We soon arrived at the river, and Sandro and I stuffed our cheeks with coca leaves, baited up the situation and slung our lines in the river. We sat patiently, tummys roaring, praying for a quiver of our lines. After 20 minutes, one of the lines moved and I yelped to Sandro, grabbed the line and whipped it back, quickly confirming there was something weighty on the end. Selecta, a whacking great catfish, what would become our only meal in the 3 days in the Amazon.

We fished for another few hours but to no avail, so headed back to El Campo to try and get another fire started. En route, we plucked some mushrooms and a twig that smelled of garlic. A feast was in store, and we hadn't eaten a morsel in 24 hours.

With no help from Sandro, the three of us got a belting fire going, and we setup a mini canopy to nestle our banana-leaf-wrapped fish on. Yeezus.

Hunger no doubt played a huge part in it, but this was some of the best fish any of us had tasted. Meaty, garlicky (crazy that this flavour was from twig bark), and so tender. 

This did end up being our only food in 3 days, but despite the hunger and initial cold on that first night, this, for all of us, was one of the most testing, but fascinating experiences we've ever had, and one that we'd highly recommend to anyone that wants an authentic Amazon experience with an indigenous tribesman.

Next stop, the Pampas, a boat and bus ride away from Rurrenabaque, and a spot that guaranteed all sorts of typical Amazonian wildlife, from Cayman to pink Dolphins. 

 

This is another stop that's better painted through pictures, but in short, we had a blinding group, saw heaps of wildlife (including swimming with river dolphins and catching & eating piranhas), and ate like Incan princes and princesses. 

Capybaras

 
Non venomous python

Pink Dolphins

 Piranha, caught and eaten, bloody delicious

At this point, we'd already had 3 weeks in Bolivia, but having loved our time here so much, decided to devote another week to skipping (bussing) our way up to the Peruvian border. 

Next on the agenda (via, of course, another bus, along a track called death road...) was La Paz. Not a lot to say about La Paz to be honest. It sits at 3650m altitude and sadly altitude sickness got the better of Alice. We did manage to brave an afternoon's bevving with a bunch of the Aussie staff at our hostel Wild Rover, and managed to clear out half of the shops' Bolivian textiles. Other than that, we said our final farewell to Vic and headed to the highest altitude lake in the world, Lake Titicaca.

Lake Titicaca straddles both the Bolivian, and Peruvian side of their borders, and is absolutely monstrous (8372km squared), and beautiful. We decided to hit Isla Del Sol, an island visited from the Bolivian side, and spent 3 days winding down from what had been a pretty mental few weeks. 

We spent our time strolling (getting lost on) the island and eating the lake's fare, Trout. A truly glorious place and the perfect R and R from amazing, but hectic Bolivia.

That wraps up Bolivia, in a bumper post that's actually been written in Lima, Peru. It seems we're back in internet territory now so am going to try and catch the blog up with where we truly are over the next week or so. Much love from us both, and adios for now.

Tweet