My escape from Bolivia

This is the story of my adventures through the Bolivian jungle, where you feel safe when you only see a tiger. Meeting a " cocalero " might be much worse. Or, the most dangerous thing in your life could be the target of the army.

I had been training in the South of Brazil and the last message through the radio said that I was going to have some days off before my next job. I just took a look at the map and asked some locals. Many foreigners go to Rurrenabaque, they said. Next morning I was sweating in a public bus for half rate going to the heart of the Bolivian rain forest.

I already knew Bolivia and it's mamachas taught me how to chew coca leaves without hurting my mouth. The miners also taught me that a gringo does not enter their festivities without having to pay the ticket. The ticket might come with a fancy tour or with a knife between your ribs, but if you are lucky they will just take something valuable and then run away.

Getting in the heart of the jungle alone and was an adventure that I didn't want to miss. My expedition through Amazonas already had problems three times and I was not expecting to get scared by spiders or tigers. When I just arrived Rurrenabaque I stayed at a cheap hotel till know where to spend my holidays. The revolution was starting in Bolivia and roads were going to be cut by farmers in a huge strike. I could go to the frontier and enter Argentina. Most of strikes can be avoided by giving bottles of 98% of alcohol, in order to show that you approve the revolution.


The End

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