Our trip came to an end at the Beni riverside. After a short stay in a hotel, I took a stroll through Rurrenabaque; I was craving for beer, even if it was the Bolivian one... However, I quickly became disappointed since I found that the city was under the prohibition owing to Good Friday! What a blow!
On the pictures is Szczepan in a very sexy skirt, bus station, stadium, girls wearing trousers, an old man without a shirt, and a blossoming tree; everyone will find something pleasing. Prohibition isn’t so strictly obeyed and we manage to buy some beer under the counter in one of the shops.
In the evening we go out to the city through which a procession is moving on the occasion of forthcoming holidays. The procession is made up of the city inhabitants and sailors of course. A glass, illuminated, tacky coffin with a Christ figurine inside it is being carried by people. We’re going in the opposite direction to that of the procession and reach the main square.
There are a lot of people, girls are selling some hot food, kids are playing table football, the younger ones are sitting in front of a screen which was put up specially on this occasion and are watching movies about the life of Jesus which are displayed by a projector. Mesmerised... It’s somehow different in comparison to our festivities; it’s as if the whole city celebrated the holidays together!
Today we are off. But what can you do in this Rurrenabaque? How many times you can marvel at a terminal or a stadium? End of transmission.
For the first time in my life I spend my Easter away from my family, from fatherland, not to mention stuffed cabbage, cheesecake, sour barley soup, pound cake, sauerkraut stew with meat... Here, however, all we have got left from the whole tradition is hard-boiled eggs and mate de coca... After breakfast, we play a quick game of billiards, pack our stuff and run headlong to catch a plane!
Certainly you are wondering why the report from Easter Sunday broke off so unexpectedly... Well, black clouds gathered over Rurrenabaque (so they did above our heads)... and it started to rain. A runway is rather similar to a neatly mowed football pitch, thus the planes cannot take off after the rain; the runway has to get dry first! This way it turned out that we were grounded! What’s worse, we had already paid for a train ticket to travel from La Paz to Uyuni as well as for a Salar de Uyuni journey; both will be gone because we won’t be there on time! On top of that, we didn’t pay for the next night in Rurrenabaque hotel! There was nothing to be done but going for a drink! The consequences of our drinking, being the wine bottles, were still seen in the city on the next day.
Today we are in luck, the weather improved so we will be able to take off! We’re going to an airport. At the airport, again, I admire the local colours, from the peculiar fire equipment to the visual setting at the check-in. It looked really hilarious when a gentleman from the staff, in grand style, told us to stand back and then barred the way using the red tape which you can see in the picture. The airport was small, 19 passengers but ambitions high; anyway, procedures similar to the ones from an international airport.
Finally we’re in a plane; we take off and fly to La Paz. In such a small plane the turbulence is much heavier. My neighbour sitting on the left side sinks her nails into my shoulder and, when it’s quiet, crosses herself several times. Anyway, all the people in the plane pray during every turbulence.
We land at El Alto airport; we’ve got the last couple of hours in La Paz. As I’ve mentioned before, our train ticket is gone so we’re going to have a ride along the Bolivian road... Oh God, take care of my bottom! A bus leaves at 7 p.m.; before that, we have a very nice farewell with Carol and Mauricio who give us a CD with the Bolivian music.
Fortunately the road isn’t as terrible as the one to Rurrenabaque; I mean it tosses you considerably but eyelids don’t open themselves when it jolts! I’m trying to fall asleep when suddenly, I hear Chopin! At the first moment I don’t understand what’s happening, I’m thousands kilometres away from Poland and suddenly I hear the most Polish piece you can imagine! I didn’t even realise how much I miss my country! With all this revulsion towards the things that happen there, towards such simpletons like Kaczyński, Tusk, Lepper, Giertych or Kwaśniewski! Every minute makes me aware how important the Chopin’s music, Mickiewicz’s poems are for me... Poland...