Asuncion to Chaco Paraguay and Villamontes Bolivia

 

Asuncion to Chaco Paraguay and Villamontes Bolivia

We wait. We wait. We wait.   Bolipar S.R.L. Buses – I have never had such a bad experience in all my travels – please use their opposition! they will only spoil your day especially if you are a single parent on a family travel with your child.  I wish my luxury travel experts prepared me for such arrogance from companies and people around the world. 

As we continue to wait (with no reason, or explanation) we start to make friends with those who are also waiting. Not all of them are not like us who are on a single parent travel. 

I discover that I have been charged double what others were charged for the tickets. Through this article, you will understand why this was actually the worst bus company.

Anyway, after my discovery, I approach the management and they insist I was charged the minimum bus fare for the trip. However, they later give in to my demand and give me $5 back – whoopy-doo. The man who makes the refund ends up on our bus and I can see he thinks I am only a troublemaker. 

Finally 1.5 hours late, the oldest bus I have seen, emerges and we throw our bags in and head off.  Packs of dribbling hot food are passed out.  I wonder what the heck I have done!
I get out my computer and start to do a Word doc in preparation for a blog. Next thing the seat in front crashes back (it was empty) and jams my computer lid under it.  I ask in Spanish if he will lift his seat, and he verbally abuses me and refuses.  A mini-war emerges.  He refuses to put the seat up.  I have to get help just to get the computer out.  I put the computer away and lock it up.  Next thing the seat is jammed on my legs and I am pinned.  I ask him to put it up 2 inches.  He starts screaming at me. 

I get help again, get out and change spots with my son.  We have 2 sleeping bags and socks on, and the bus is FREEZING.  I feel my toes will snap off.  I need to elevate them but I have no leg space. So I throw my feet onto the back of his headrest.  Oops – I hit him in the head.  

Next thing I realize this rude man is one of the drivers.  He has a “cama”. We barely have a “semi-cama”.  So we are the only ones on the bus who have no leg space as his seat is adjusted to allow a 6-foot man to lie flat and comfortable.

So the driver gets my feet in both his hands and gives me a mighty throw. He then picks them up again and hits me!  He is screaming at me.  I can recognize he is telling me he will throw me off at the Frontier.  Yikes – it is 2 a.m.  So I curl up as best I can and suffer.

The bus stops, and a bunch of Aborigines come in.  These poor folks have been waiting in the freezing cold for over 2 hours.  There are kids, so I give one girl my Polo Ralph Lauren jacket.   She is only about 10 years old and doesn’t take it off the whole trip.

The night starts to get worse.  We head through Police; Army; Security and Immigration checks.  We have Seat; Passport; Luggage and personal bag searches and checks.

I get to the Frontier at 4 a.m. and I am in fear I will be left.  The Paraguay Frontier is hours from the Bolivian Border.  So technically you are stamped “out” of the country, but you are still in the country. Then the fun starts.  The bus breaks down.  Not once but 5 times.  

The driver who gave me grief has to suck and spit petrol.  He glares at me, and I give him a nothing look.  I will not engage in his fight.  By now a new driver has moved into the seat, and he gives me leg room – nice man!

We have a break and get some fuel.  It is well into the morning and we are still in the Chaco of Paraguay.

We then get a serious Bolivian border check.  But it is not Immigration.  Out comes the luggage. We line up in the hot sun and wait to be patted, and searched. Along with us is the other company’s bus – complete with Mennonites.

We finally hit the Bolivian Immigration.  A rather obese and rude man takes my son’s hat and puts it on himself.  Now my son is very clean. He has had head-lice in Fiji, and he is paranoid (he has spotted a boy on the bus we are pretty sure has them!).  He also loves his hat and he does not want to part with it.  So when the Immigration man puts on my son’s hat and pretends he will keep it, I fear we will have a fight and be arrested.  I try to calm my son down. 

Fortunately, the guy gives it back off his greasy head and whacks it back on my son’s head.  But now it has his dirty hair in it and my son doesn’t want it on his head.  I feel so bad for my 8-year-old.   He looks like he is about to cry.

We are finally in Bolivia.  The bus continues to break down.  We have had over 12 stops for security inspections.  We have been on this bus for 20 hours.  We wanted to catch the night bus to the next town from where we get dropped off.

He now drops us off about 6 blocks from the bus station.  So, fortunately, there is a little hotel near there.  I drag our bags 2 blocks and ask him to keep them. 

We then walk to the bus terminal. We discover there is a mini-van in the morning and they will collect us from the hotel.

Wonderful.  We walk back and check in and discover there are only cold showers.  So we rug up and go out for dinner.  The whole meal each is less than $2.  The room is big and clean and does have a TV.  In the morning, I discover a kitchen outside. I am not sure if it is for public use, but I am sure if you asked nicely they would let you use it. They did give us bowls and spoons for breakfast.

I am already liking Bolivia!  And my budget sure is.

We recommend the following budget hotel and suggest room 18 at the rear overlooking the waterway:
Residencial La Costanera 
Dir. c/- German Busch e/Mendez Arcos y Sbte. Barrao Ville Montes, Bolivia

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