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Border Crossing
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Up with English hang-overs, rather than the deadly SA ones that force you to limit your movement to breathing. We made a break for Bolivia with Neal our new found Jewish American friend, the comedy value is priceless. Two bus rides a film and j going over what to say in Spanish to make the bus drivers stop for him to be sick and we made it to the border town, amazingly with insides intact.

A short walk across a dusty bridge and we were stamped out of Argentina and into Bolivia, well that was for the English. The poor American had to pay up and show a wad of documents before they wave the stamp of approval anywhere near him. While this was going on V was helping out a queue of old blind Bolivians who couldn’t read let alone hold a pen, fill out their entrance and exit forms.

Managed to get straight on another bus headed to Tupiza. We were warned about not losing sight of your bag on this bus. So when a friendly Boliviano tried to take j’s bag with the explanation that it was ‘special for tourists’ we definitely told him where to go.

This bus journey was like no other that we have ever had in our lives. Roads are over rated apparently, all we did was off road through the desert up and down ravines and through the odd river. Smash, crash, bump and inhale dust.

Once in Tupiza we wasted no time with hostel searching and took the first one we found then headed for some grub. Spoke to some Germans that recommended a tour agency for the salt flats, so that’s a job done tomorrow.



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