In the wee hours of the morning, I woke up with the most splitting headache I have ever experienced. It felt like someone was slowly inserting a metal rod into my skull, just above my right eye. The pain was so intense that I threw up, ugh gross. I totally could sympathize with Carl and all those other migraine sufferers that day.
Carl got the kids ready at 5:00 a.m.! to catch the tour bus to
Copacabana. It was a bit brutal. I could hardly sit up, Joel was in a trance, Kezia was still unconscious, and Asha was whimpering in her bed. I seriously contemplated just giving up the entire day trip, but when else would we be able to do this? Be strong Kathy, you can do it. Children are resilient, they can sleep on the bus. Headaches can't last forever.
So we stumbled onto the bus, the sun barely peeking over the mountains for the three hour trip. I slept most of the way, only waking because the bumping of the bus seemed to jar the invisible metal rod still in my skull. Poor
Phineas Cage!
After 2 and some hours, we got off the bus, and boarded a rickety ferry. Joel seems to need to process things verbally, so he kept talking loudly about how the ferry might sink and what we should do in case of water in the boat, and would there be enough lifejackets, and who in our family could swim. It may have helped him, but it certainly wasn't very encouraging for us and other English speakers within proximity of Joel.
Once we got over to the other side, there was a Bolivian police officer who was checking papers and passports. We pulled out our handy-dandy Carnet cards and photocopy of our passport. Eric and Michelle pulled out their photocopies. The police officer looked at them, along with documents from 3 other people and had a very furrowed brow. He told us after a few anxious moments that we needed to have our actually passports and visas; this was to Eric and Michelle and the other three folks from Europe. We were fine because we have Carnets. Carl had specifically asked the tour organizers when he booked the day before if we needed our passports, and he said no. He asked if we needed anything else. He said no. Well, apparently he was wrong and we were in a bit of a pickle.
The police officer said that he couldn't let us pass and we would have to return to the mainland because we didn't have our proper documentations. And he said he had no verification of when they entered the country or any way to make sure they didn't go into Peru. Carl spoke to him and said that we were never given any indication that they needed that paperwork by those organizing the tour. The police officer wouldn't waver and asked them all to accompany them to the station.
So the kids and I trudged after them and waited and waited, hoping that the bus wouldn't leave without us. I wondered if he was being difficult because we didn't offer a bribe. Grrr....why does this have to happen now?! Well, at least my headache was just a dull ache.
The tour leader and the bus driver came up the road and went into the police station. After about 5 minutes, the three European girls came tearing out, running like mad towards their bus. And 10 minutes later, Carl, Eric, Michelle and the bus driver came out. Carl smiled at me, and once we were clear of the police station he explained what happened.
The police weren't budging until the bus driver came and pleaded with him, saying that it was their fault that we didn't have all the paperwork. He said that he would take personal responsibility that they would return to the mainland and not take off to Peru. Seriously, is that a risk?! Do we look like we are going to escape? Can you just picture us running into the mountains of Peru, with our flimsy sandals and children on our back?! So the police officer took his word, didn't make them pay the 300Bs fine and let them go. Whew! Nothing illegal, nothing expensive, just a bit of wasted time. Well, makes for a good blogging story, eh?
So we boarded the bus and drove another 30 minutes to get to Copacabana. We decided to stay the day and go back on a public bus instead of the tour bus. We wandered around Copacabana for a while, took a tour of the
Basilica, and even saw the blessing of the vehicles by the church. First, the religious man gives an offering to
Pachamama by spraying beer all over the decorated vehicle. Then he throws on rice or something before lighting the wad of firecrackers by the tires. Then the car gets driven up the line to be blessed by the Catholic Priest. Quite interesting, to say the least.
We did a bit of shopping and the kids played in the plaza with a few local kids. They were very intrigued with Asha's hair and kept wanting to touch her. To distract the kids, I encouraged Kezia to play Duck, Duck, Goose with them so that Asha could be left alone!
We had some very tasty trout for lunch. Oh, it was so fresh. After we left the restaurant, I saw a girl coming up from the beach with a bag filled of fish, bound for the next lucky customer.
In the afternoon, we hired a boat driver to take us around on
Lake Titicaca and see some of the islands. It was a relaxing drive and we stopped at a little "grass" island, kind of like traditional ones they used to have on the lake, to see a trout farm. The people
really wanted to sell us lunch, or drinks or something, anything, please tourists! It was a bit uncomfortable, so we bought some drinks.
After our boat ride, everyone was feeling warm and relaxed. Eric and Michelle and Joel went on a hike, while Carl and I and the girls sat by the lake. It was very nice. We even got to prop our kids next to an Alpaca for some pictures. How hilarious!
We picked up some snacks and by 4:30 were heading back to the plaza to catch our bus. We made one more bathroom stop before boarding, and prepared for the 3 hour bus back. This bus wasn't as nice as the touristy one, but for $2/seat instead of $10, it was a steal of a deal.
The kids slept most of the way and by now I was feeling much better. Except for the crazy man who was mumbling to himself the entire way, it was pretty uneventful. We got back to La Paz after dark and a very friendly police officer helped us find a taxi. You could totally tell that this city/region is used to catering to tourists. All 7 of us piled into this tiny little sedan and off we went!
POP! Went the tire after 3 blocks. Oh, brother. The taxi driver apologized and we poured out and told him we were sorry he had a flat. So up the hill we trudge to find another taxi. We hailed another one, and squeezed in again.
The traffic was horrible and the taxi driver was stuck in traffic for quite some time. It was getting warm and gross, especially for the 6 of us in the backseat.
All of a sudden Asha coughs, followed by a spray of vomit. There was no way to escape the river of sour chunks, no way to spare my shoes or pants or the back of the seat in the taxi. Eric quickly grabbed a spare t-shirt from his bag and threw it at me to contain the flow. The smell in the hot, stuffed taxi was almost unbearable. I regretted giving the kid cheezies and yogurt on the bus ride back.
Thankfully after 2 minutes, she stopped barfing and after 5 we were in front of our hotel. We all got out and assessed the mess. Only Carl and I had taken the brunt of the vomit-fest, and of course the floor and seat of the taxi. Carl handed the guy a big tip and apologized for the mess. And Asha was fine as she toddled into the hotel, slimy with puke.
We decided to call it a night and have showers and head to bed before anything else happened. What a crazy day, that I was mostly glad to have experienced!
