Marching Powder

I´m now in Bolivia, after enduring a bus journey that started with the driver banging the crap out the engine & which continued with an elderly woman next to me - whom I guess must have had Parkinson's disease - shaking uncontrollably for 8hrs, a filthy person nearby dropping a VERY eggy fart (from which there was no escape!) and a cute Bolivian baby that stopped crying every time i pulled a funny face at it!

Oh & i got thoroughly searched at the Peruvian/Bolivian border! I´d just changed US$150 into Bolivianos & was casually strolling over the border when accosted by two Bolivian policemen who bundled me into a room & shut the door behind me! I´m reading a book at the moment called "Marching Powder" (by Rusty Young - highly recommended) about an English drug trafficker caught in Bolivia & sent to San Pedro prison in La Paz - which amongst other things, talks about the rampant corruption in Bolivia. So when they started going through my day-pack & asked me to empty my pockets, and specifically asking me how much money I had on me, I assumed right there & then that I was gonna get robbed!.. so I emptied my pockets except for the folded notes in my right pocket... but one of them prodded my jeans (could of been a lot worse I guess!!) and I had to hand the notes over too! I kept my eyes peeled the whole time making sure they didn´t steal anything, but luckily they were merely looking for drugs & asked if I was carrying any, to which I replied in my best-est Es-pag-nol, "No nessesito Senór!!"

I assumed right there & then that I was gonna get robbed!

Today, four of us (Garth, a Melbourner I met in Buenos Aires who i´ve spent most of the past 2wks with – and the Irish lasses, Nita & Cat of Rio, Bahia & Buenos Aires fame) went to that prison in La Paz to see if we could blag it inside! We spoke to a couple of police officers near the front gates, which are positioned - unbelievably - right on a main plaza, like being bang on Trafalgar square!! They "said" we couldn´t go in unless we knew someone inside, but let us right up to the main gates.. and then this black guy, possessing only one front tooth, locked behind the main gates started shouting at me "Bro, bro, where you from?.. Ask for James, where you from bro?" and then the guard said I could go right up this seriously scary bloke, basically so I could give him 20 Bolivianos (£1.70p) which the guard would no doubt get a slice of, and they´d probably let us in (!!) even though officially we´re now not allowed due to the revelations of that "Marching Powder" book!

Although getting in was our "aim", none of us really thought we´d actually be let in & it was all about the fun of trying to talk our way into this famous 3rd world prison! NONE of us - after seeing the ramshackle of prisoners crowding at the front gates - wanted to go anywhere near the gates, let alone inside! With this scary guy shouting directly to me, I totally lost ALL my bravado of "yeah lets go to San Pedro prison & blag it in", my legs went to jelly & there was no way on God´s Earth I was gonna go and talk to this guy!

The four of us sensibly decided to go get an ice-cream & sit in the plaza for the next 20mins. All of us unable to stop staring uncontrollably at the front gates the entire time!

It´s all fun & games here in South America!!