Although the boss of the hotel has promised me to provide a proper breakfast half an hour earlier than normal, there is no one to be seen at seven o'clock sharp, or is he somewhere?

Might it be the groaning creature rising from a chair? In any case, he looks like he has spent the night there.

Desayuno? Claro, he answers in a fragile voice and staggers to the kitchen. He already looked a bit worn yesterday, with slow movements, as if every bone hurt him, and when I asked him about his condition, he mumbled something about alcohol. It must have been an exceptional evening if he is still feeling the effects two days later.

 

A very special breakfast

Anyway, he takes a look around and offers me a stalk of bananas.

Bananas? Porque no, I answer a little perplexed. But then he at least gets to work on the coffee machine, and I don't care about anything else.

A truly exceptional specimen, this guy. He is the same one who asked me for my Rolex when I arrived. Rolex? What Rolex? All Swiss people own a Rolex, he replies totally convinced. So while I sip my cup of Nestle coffee, he checks things out after a while. He's probably aware that what he's offered so far isn't quite the standard breakfast after all. On the kitchen table, he spots a crepe from last night and hands it to me. How about that? I'm not entirely convinced, so he fetches a tube of some kind of chocolate cream spread.

So that's my breakfast this morning: a coffee (ok), a stalk of bananas (a bit special), and an old cold crepe from last night with chocolate spread from a tube (in need of getting used to).

Great, just great. That's what traveling is for. Another one of those stories that I won't forget ...

 

A bunch of screaming guys

Normally, you have to get a bus ticket beforehand to be sure of a reserved seat.

Not this morning, not in Santa Cruz with destination Cochabamba. As soon as I get out of the taxi, I am attacked by a bunch of screaming guys and they all shout Cochabamba as loud as possible.

At the first guy it costs 40 Bolivianos (just under six francs), but the bus doesn't give a trustworthy impression, so to the next one. This time it costs already 100 Bolivianos, but with Cama (reclining seat) on the upper floor and even at the front.

On the way to the counter - de prisa de prisa - because the bus is about to leave - he reduces the price to 80 Bolivianos, and then we race off, I haul my backpack into the luggage compartment, pant up the stairs and sit down.

Three seconds later the bus takes off ...

 

A unique pleasure, high above the world

Once again it takes forever to reach the open country. It is raining cats and dogs, but from my seat it is one big pleasure. I sit very comfortably high above the world, all around wet chaos, dense traffic, people with umbrellas and pulled up hoods.

The Lowland Route is just under 500 kilometers long, initially passing along a fertile valley before slowly climbing in altitude to reach Cochabamba at 2500 meters. So we have a good 10 hours of extremely enjoyable driving ahead of us, exactly what I am looking for.

 

From Santa Cruz to Cochabamba

And while soaking Bolivia glides by at my feet, the chauffeur keeps the passengers entertained. And so I spend the next few hours in the company of Silvester Stallone and friends and the noisy presentation of Expendables 1 to 3.

 

River Valley

Hats

poor life

 

The real Bolivia

But the view out of the window reveals the real Bolivia.

Memories of my last trip in Bolivia emerge. Has anything changed? Are people' s living conditions better now? It doesn't seem so, unfortunately. The huts are still run-down, the people poorly dressed, the children with dripping nose.

The roads off the main road are full of potholes and now, with the rain, they are flooded. The film rolls on, mercilessly showing that Bolivia is still among the poorest countries in the world. In terms of gross domestic product per capita, it ranks very low. And although the country covers over a million square kilometers and possesses large mineral deposits, it barely has 2700 million inhabitants.

The average life expectancy of men is 65, of women 70 years. As late as 2010, the majority of the population had no access to health care. This list can be continued indefinitely. However, a large part of the indigenous population, which is nowhere as numerous as here, is counting on the President of the Republic, Evo Morales. Whether his promises will be kept is extremely controversial.

The reasons are open to speculation, as always in such cases a toxic mixture of history, oppression, religion, ethnicity, corruption, dependence. A longer look at the information in Wikipedia explains some, if not all ...

 

Uphill

After a few hours, driving along the valley becomes a bit monotonous, only the sometimes stupid overtaking maneuvers of the road users as well as our own bus provide some unwelcome distraction. The truck with the inscription "Peligro" causes some frown. As if it were carrying milk or some other harmless load, it dashes ahead at full speed, overtaking at the most unlikely places, regardless of its dangerous load.

It won't be the last time. In any case, I sigh a relief when the truck finally disappears somewhere far ahead. I wait for a lightning flash and a dark cloud of smoke in the sky. Which, of course, reminds me of the unforgettable movie with Yves Montand - Le Salaire de la Peur, Wages of Fear. Here are some excerpts.

 

Peligro-Danger
Peligro - danger!

Dense traffic

But then the plain is left behind, the climb from a level of 200 meters to 2600 meters starts. Now curve follows curve, the road becomes narrower, steeper, in some places soggy due to the rain, it has thrown ripples on it as an earthquake might have done.

The numerous trucks are miserably slow, it would be possible to overtake them on foot with ease. So in most cases the only option is to wait for a stretch of road where overtaking is possible at all.

The surroundings become greener, dense forest lines the road. Sometimes, far away, a few huts, something shiny, blue. A lake? A pond?

 

Passhöhe

Looking at the altitude display on my iPhone app reveals slow progress, but eventually we reach 2000 meters, then 2500, and finally we even cross the 3000 line.

Memories of Ladakh are awakened, but here the hills and mountains are covered in green even at this altitude. A huge lake glides by, then the top of the pass, exactly 3449 meters. Hey, that's the same altitude as in Leh. Wonderful.

It's already getting close to six o'clock in the evening, fatigue creeps up slowly like a sneaking shadow. I am not the only one, restaurants invite to stop, to take a breath.

 

Top of the pass

Crowd on the top of the pass

All kinds of vehicles

and numerous people

The bus seems to catch its breath noticeably, it now descends in long hairpin bends, a haze can be seen from afar.

Cochabamba

 

Mileage: 2930

Matching Song: Billy Talent - Rusted from the Rain

And here the journey continues ...

 

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