The next few days I took steady, as I fully recovered. I ate mostly at Olivers Tavern or the cafe in the hotel (Banais Naira), as I knew the food was steady and wouldn’t upset my belly.
After the ice bucket challenge, I headed to Olivers Tavern once again for a vegetable curry and some vodkas. My stomach was gurgling a bit, but I thought it would go. Once back at the hotel the pain in my stomach was getting worse. Eventually I was sick, but I’m rarely sick from drinking, especially only a few vodkas, and the pain in my gut was telling me something was up. I was sick again, and again, and again. And again. I lost count eventually but the sink was full to the brim with rice and veg, and the shower had took some hammering too, not to mention the toilet.
The next morning I was not surprised when the hotel hadn’t arranged my taxi, and called for it as I checked out. I made my early flight regardless and was thankful to be back in La Paz as was still feeling ropey. I spent the majority of the day in bed back at Hostel Naira, sipping water and feeling sorry for myself.
I woke with hunger and little pain the next day and I wasn’t as grumpy as the previous few days. Pancakes and bananas went down a treat at Naira and after showering I headed to Kanoo Tours. I explained to the staff that ‘Al Extremo’ were dissatisfactory and Kanoo were again more than helpful, providing us with a refund. I gave some of this back immediately in exchange for tickets to Cholitas Wrestling, which is on Sunday and I am looking forward to. They also emailed me prices and details for some trips with Banjo Tours, which was very helpful.
I left happy and went for a look around the infamous ‘Witches Market’, where they sell llama foetuses as good luck charms for new houses, amongst other oddities.
So I jump in the pre-arranged cab, which is about the only thing Edgar Adventures did right. Tired and weary, I got to the bus station and paid 1 boliviano, some form of tax. The bus was due to leave at 7am, and this leg of the journey would be with Tour Peru. I showed my tickets but was told the bus I could see was for Copacabana, not La Paz. So I waited around another 10 minutes until bingo, La Paz bus. While waiting to board, I noticed that my tickets said La Paz and everyone else’s said La Paz directo. Just to be sure, I asked if anyone was sat in seat 13 (my seat). A lady said yes, and I knew I was in trouble. Continue reading “Puno to La Paz”