23-26.08.24

A short flight from La Paz and we were in Sucre. Well, the airport which is far from the actual town but still. This is the first time that a local taxi was the only option rather than Uber or the other one. Luckily it was the price we expected and a very relaxed drive for about an hour from the airport to the hostel. That was despite the fact that there were roadworks and in some cases, no road, only gravel.

The first thing I noticed about Sucre from the cab was that a) there is far less car-horn honking and b) much nicer architecture. Alex later told me that the whole place is a unesco world heritage site due to the well-preserved colonial architecture. It really makes a nice break from grotty looking home-built yet unfinished brick buildings. I mean sure there were some on the outskirts but not in the centre as in La Paz.

We were very early for check in, and yet again we found ourselves at a hostel that was impossible to find. In fact, the only indicator was a tiny label on a buzzer.

We buzzed in, apologised for being early but were allowed to leave our bags and pay in advance and were told our room would be ready by 2pm. Bizarrely, the office for the hostel is also very much a doctor’s office, with the bed and certificates and other doctory paraphernalia. In fact, the doctor whose name is also the name of the hostel and was, I suspect, the polite well-spoken man checking us in, is very specifically a cardiologist. Good to know. My assumption is he must have bought the whole building and then a wife or daughter or sister (the payment was made to a woman) turned it into a hostel as a sideline. Or maybe the hostel came first and he just dabbles in cardiology, who can say.

We left our bags, found a cafe to chill in for a while but were booted out at 1pm. Everything seems to shut from 1-3pm, which I suppose makes sense for businesses so the workers can go have lunch, but how does it make sense for a place where you might obtain lunch to be closed at lunchtime?

Anyway, the weather is nice and balmy and the town not as hilly as La Paz, so perfect for exploring.

We found a truly excellent supermarket that finally had the level of weird foreign crisps we were after, as well as some suspect characters advertising chocolate milk, the Spanish name for Frosties and some sad sandwiches and weird jelly item. You had better believe we bought some cheeseburger-flavoured crisps. And some Bolivian wine.

Back to the hostel to find our room ready with our bags (and someone else’s) already in it. We took the interloping bag and coat back down and explained the situation to Doctor Hostel Man. He was a bit embarrassed but no harm done. Then back to the room for some bedroom wine, skilfully opened by Alex (pushing the cork in as no bottle opener and they don’t seem to have heard of screw top here) and Cheeseburger flavoured crisps which I must say are rather disappointing. Not a particularly strong flavour and just kind of basically cheesy. But not very. Maybe the pizza flavour would have fairer better.

Have you ever had a Bolivian Dutch Thai? Well I have now. We went out for dinner to, rather incongruously, a Dutch-owned place. It was wonderfully cosy inside and had decent beer and bitterballen… aka Dutch croquettes. So yummy. This place had a fairly decent variety of vegan and veggie food and I was craving a vegetable or two so decided on the tofu pad Thai. Apart from the fact that the tofu could have been crisped first, it was just what I needed. Alex had a quinoa burger which made up for in taste what it lacked in structural integrity. Alas, no photos of the food this time… too busy eating it. Satisfied, we headed back to the hostel and to bed.

We awoke refreshed and ready to explore a bit! Hostel breakfast was terrible (think stale bread roll and a banana) so first port of call was something breakfast-shaped. We went to a popular place that sold only salteñas. Think a mini Cornish pasty, but with a more liquid filling that also contains a quail’s egg and a surprise olive (watch out for your teeth on the pit) alongside the filling you have chosen. Alex went for chicken and I went for spicy beef. Pleased to report it was actually spicy! We also got fresh juice; passion fruit and lemon respectively. So refreshing!

We then went to the treasure museum where, alas, no photos were allowed. It was a guided tour around the collection that covered the precious metals mined here and their uses, as well as precious and semi-precious gem stones. My first ever job was in a jewellery shop so this was right up my street. At first, the guide made out like his English wasn’t great and did the tour in Spanish with a smattering of English explanations… but mostly I translated best I could to Alex. Then an older British couple turned up half way through and immediately he was able to give the tour bilingually. Cheeky sod. The translations become particularly tricky to understand when outside we could hear parades and marching bands. We wondered what on earth was going on! Well we found out later in the day…

Before that, we wandered up a steep hill to a small museum with a nice cafe and spectacular views accessed by a terrifying spiral staircase made for smaller people than we.

I’m not great with narrow spaces and steep descents (ascents are okay) so this was slightly stressful coming back down. We soothed our souls with a lunchtime sandwich or chorizo sausage. Absolutely banging.

We watched the amazing spectacle that was a huge parade with lots of different sections going round the main square. I asked a bystander what was going on and he looked at me like I was insane. Eventually he said something along the lines of “it’s to celebrate the re-entry into university and the cultures of our people”. In short: this parade was the Bolivian equivalent of Freshers. These were choreographed dances with matching costumes. Can you imagine organising British uni freshers to do something like this?!

We watched for a while and then had dinner at an unsurprisingly empty restaurant on the square. We had an enormous sharing dish called “Pique Macho”, pile of chicken, beef, sausage, eggs, onions, peppers, chips and gravy. It was a beast. Also, disappointingly, not spicy, which is what was promised.

The following morning we went for breakfast in an old bell tower; the building features on the 100 bolovianos bill. Mildly chilly but spectacular views over the city. Also gave me the intrusive thought that The Hunchback of Notre Dame must have had terrible tinnitus.

The breakfast was nice but not enormous, so we went back to the salteñas place for second breakfast. Naturally.

Now we had some time to kill, so where better place to do so than in a cemetery? Sorry, that was poor taste. But it was a lovely place to go for a wander. It was very interesting too, as it’s very unlike British cemeteries. For one thing, the graves are like apartment blocks with them stacked five high. The prime spots are also rented; we saw eviction notices. Dread to think where they go afterwards. Given that this was also the place with the most trees it was also abundant in birds. So we sat in the cool shade and chatted about stuff and watch the birds and honestly it was all very peaceful.

We wandered back to town and went to a craft ale pub for some nice local wanky beers. We decided to stay for dinner too; I had pesto pasta which felt like such a novel treat!

We still had plenty of time when Alex decided to check our overnight bus tickets for the umpteenth time. I jokingly said “Is this where we find out that our tickets were for last night and we’ve missed them?” There was an awkward pause. Alex replied with “You joke, but I think I have actually fucked up. These tickets are for 26th September not August.” Ah. We paid up quickly and headed back to the hostel for our bags, trying not to panic too much. Worst case scenario is we would have to buy new tickets for less than a tenner.

After a tense-ish taxi ride, we got to the bus station which was carnage. No system whatsoever or at least that’s how it looked. We looked for the ticket office to see what we could do.

Next time…

Will our heroes manage to change their tickets? Or will they be stuck in Bolivia’s most chaotic (we assume) bus station for the duration of the night? Find out next time!