Grounded in San Ignacio de Moxos

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Trip Start Mar 31, 2006 Previous
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  San Ignacio de Moxos, Bolivia
Sunday, September 10, 2006

We are sitting in the courtyard of a great little hostal in the delightful town of San Ignacio de Moxo; not sitting here out of choice but because over half of Bolivia has been shut down for 24 hrs. When we got up this morning we thought we were being asked to leave but after much discussion we realised we were being told we could NOT leave. We had watched with some amusement the television in the little cafe where we were drinking our regulation two beers as various ample ladies in the Bolivian Assembly were busily bashing various men over the head - quite hard some of them - not realising what was going on. Evidently the "low-land" provinces are feeling ignored and have shut down everything for 24 hrs: no commerce at all and no traveling on anything motorized. We wandered the streets this morning and even the dogs seemed to be "shut-down" but we found a half-open window from whose shadowy depths one could bargain for some bread. We do not really mind but wonder what happens to all the tourists on tight itineraries. It is odd that only the day before we got an email from someone in Oklahoma who has been following our blog who asked about all the roadblocks in Bolivia and we replied that we had not experienced any!

But back to the start: we did stay more days in Coroico as it was one of the most delightful places we had camped in although the town folk were distinctly unfriendly - possibly touristed out. We left on the 31st of August; dates have a way of being milestones as we suddenly realise another month has gone by; we do not register days of the week just dates.

Capybara for tea

We headed out on the "road" but only drove for a few hours when we hit a long line of traffic which looked as though it had been there for hours: everyone out and sitting under the vehicles or in the shade on the edge. We were told that the road would not open until 4pm due to roadwork so we settled in for the 31/2 hrs we had to wait. The locals had seized on the commercial opportunity and set up kitchens along the road and were also endlessly supplying frozen drinks etc. One little chap of about 10 was haring up and down with cut slices of melon and seemed to sell out in only a few minutes and then rushed off back to the village for more. So totally different from a western scene where everyone is in such a hurry and people would have been extremely irritated and on their cell phones trying to get something done. It was only at 4.15pm that patience suddenly expired and the about 50 trucks or more let loose with their horns; a very satisfying sound echoing around the gorge. The "road-work" seemed to be the peeling back of the cliff and pushing it over the edge into the river which looked as though it was being held back by the pile. When we were finally let through we were driving on this muck pile which I felt could at any moment be dislodged by the river! But much worse was the "le-Mans" type racing start we all made which turned instantly into clouds of impenetrable and choking dust and a screaming co-driver ..."you cannot see; you cannot pass; let him pass, he is going to kill us!" Everyone as usual drives much faster than I do and hooted me to get out of their way as they were coming through whether I liked it or not; knowing that I was usually on the edge of a cliff made for some exciting decision making.

Capybara: largest rodent in world

We lost so much time that we had to stop at the next town called Caranavi which is a bit of a dirty hole but we are quite accustomed to dirt! We left Caravani the next day (after our usual difficulties at finding the right road: the residents seemed particularly reluctant to see us go!) now driving on the "correct" side of the road, in fact we actually saw a sign telling us to keep to the right; but of course we had only gone a short distance when we almost had a head-on collision and a wildly gesticulating driver indicated that imbecilic gringos should be driving on the other side. There is some unwritten set of rules whose logic completely escapes us; I can understand why we should be able to stare right down the cliff but when there are no cliffs? As usual the drive was reasonably traumatic with a co-driver having kittens at every bend in the road. We finally reached our destination of Rurrenabaque in the middle of the afternoon; apart from not knowing which side of the road to drive the route is lovely. We passed through one little town that was selling loads of little rectangular packages which turned out to be local chocolate wrapped in banana leaves: excellent, very bitter and dark but crunchy with unrefined sugar.

Rurrenabaque is a tourist town on the banks of the Beni River where everyone starts their jungle or pampas tours. But although given over to tourists it still has charm and is very laid back. The charm is partly from the mighty, mud brown river that swirls past so evocative to us of rivers we knew in Africa.

Pampas lodge

We stayed in the best little hostal (Residencial Jislene) we have experienced so far: the owners knew that a bit of attention and endless smiles goes a long way; as well as free tea and coffee and bananas; and a huge breakfast; on the edge of the river with loads of hammocks slowly rocking in the breeze. Our first two nights before our trip to the pampas was spent on a partially completed second floor (all the rooms were taken) and since many floor boards were missing and all were temporary, going to pee in the middle of the night was an interesting experience. Such a lovely place that we spent an extra two days there in addition to our pampas trip. We did note that the town was overrun by Israelis; never met any before but there must have been hundreds; our very droll pampas guide said that there were 2m guarding their borders and the other 3m were all traveling in SA.

We chose a pampas tour as you see much more life; the jungle has such a dense canopy that you see little and we saw lots of cloud forest in Central America. We had a lovely tour with a small group of five (two Israelis and a very proper young Englishman who lived in Westminster and was in his third year at Oxford - definitely not the usual traveler we meet!) with a delightful guide who had been doing it since it all started and was old enough to be able to hug the girls as often as he liked without causing offence. He played the guitar beautifully and had a great gruff smokers singing voice and a very subversive sense of humour.

Road hold-up

You travel another muddy narrow river on a long dug-out with little wooden seats which after 5hrs of travel are extremely bum-numbing. But the life along this little river is tremendous especially the birds and alligators by the hundreds as well as capybaras (the world's largest rodents some of which looked to be over 200lbs). Some of the alligators and caimans were larger than any croc we had seen in Africa and one of the largest had a live capybara tightly in his jaw! But it was the birdlife that we enjoyed the best. The camp itself was very basic and we all slept in the same room; everyone but the Pages had been told to bring a sleeping bag so we slept with all our clothes on as it was chilly. The camp cook was a miracle worker mostly by candle-light delivering gorgeous meals and more salads than we had seen in 5 months of traveling. But these tours are definitely NOT ecological: the two Israeli girls insisted on having anacondas draped round their necks; a small alligator had to be caught (very violently) for a close-up - we avoided this one; piranhas had to be fished for; lianas cut down to demonstrate a pure water source; and everywhere the pampas was being burnt by the locals and so uncontrolled that it was burning the bush right down to the waters edge. If you think that some 20,000 people a year might want all these "events" you wonder how long wild-life like anacondas will remain available for undamaging photography. The guide seemed to resent what he had to do but that is what people seem to pay for; not the wonder of the wild-life but the thrill of what it can provide. Sorry for the rant.

We stayed in Rurrenabaque for another relaxing two nights but in a proper room this time before heading east through what we thought would be dense jungle on our way to the Jesuit missions. But instead we have traveled some 300km on an almost dead-straight road of varying quality (from impassable if it had been raining to tolerable corrugations!) through some very dismal country with no jungle just patches of slash-and-burn for cattle ranching and of course everywhere fields on fire; not a pretty picture but since the indigenous people of the altoplano have been promised land in the jungle I suppose it is all inevitable. So now we are sitting in Moxo hoping the stoppage will lift tomorrow.

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Sunset over Rurrenabaque

Where are we going mum?

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