Hola from Bolivia,
Sometimes, it’s very reassuring to know that the driver, in whom you have just placed all of your faith and confidence, is familiar with the road.
Bolivia’s famous Death Road will feature in another post, but the road between Villazon and Tarija deserves its own, too.
It was a bit of a mistake to make the journey – both ways – on the thinking that the unknown adventure is worth the chance. Thinking there was a possibility of a couple of hours in the nice vineyards of Tarija, at the end of a pleasant bus ride was the mistake. The road between the two was the risk. This road deserves to be up there in the annals of dangerous roads: El Camino de Muerte no. 2.
In retrospect, there was a glaring clue (warning) at the bus terminal, where a large sign invokes the bus drivers to have faith in a supernatural being. The reason for the religious oath soon became apparent as we descended the gorge . . . on the narrow, dirt road . . . with no guard rails . . . down and down, and more . . . up the other side . . . down again . . . and finally out of the gorge onto the highway.
In a big bus, you’d think, on a narrow mountain pass, with eroded culverts, no guard rails for the whole 75 kilometres, the driver would go slowly round the bends. Instead, we were accelerating into the corners.
The multitude of memorial crosses on the edges of the precipices presumably correspond fairly closely with spots where drivers have lost control of their vehicles and have gone tumbling over the cliff. But, still we rumbled down the gorge, accelerating into the bends.
It was an interesting moment any time we confronted another vehicle. One would have to reverse (!). When the big bus is reversing on the cliffside, it might be a prudent policy not to look out of the window. I had thought that the bus reverting to low gear gave the least confidence. The reversals were a new experience again.
I have to report that it was a mighty relief to reach the safety of Tarija at the end of a long trip. Next bus: 10 pm . . . through the night?!? . . . starting to rain ! . . .
Luckily, 7 am there is another vehicle making the crossing. The driver crossed himself before and after the trip, and chewed coca leaves the whole time. I must say, it seems to be a lot easier going up the steep hill, compared to down. In Australia, it’s customary to thank the driver of a commuter bus as you alight. Here, on this road, the imperative to thank the driver stems from sheer relief and admiration.
This road doesn’t have the reputation of El Camino de Muerte, but it is a contender.
Adios from Bolivia
Gregorio