Sweet as Sucre

After our tour of the Salt Flats, we travelled from Uyuni to Sucre via an old Bolivian bus that had obviously travelled the same route many times. Before boarding, Jason went in search of supplies for the eight-hour journey. Unfortunately he returned empty-handed because he couldn't understand the shopkeeper and the shopkeeper couldn't understand him. He returned from his second attempt saying that he thought the empanadas were 50 bolivianos. But this would have been AUD$10 each, which seemed an exorbitant amount for a small pastry. Ricky went in search and discovered the empanadas were only 50 centavos, about 10 Australian cents each. Stocked up with a few empanadas, we set off for Sucre, via Potosi.

At first, Jason was excited, thinking that we were going to receive food and drink along the way. Unfortunately, this was wishful thinking and what he saw was simply products that one of the passengers was transporting to Potosi. Instead, we faced a bus crammed full of people. There weren't any chickens on board but Ricky could distinctly hear sounds of chirping birds. But there were no visible signs of the birds unless the elderly woman next to us was hiding them up her skirt.

When we got to Potosi, we sat patiently waiting for the bus to continue onto Sucre, only to be told that we needed to get-off and change bus. We were the only gringos on the bus and the last remaining passengers. That should have been the first clue. The woman from the bus company mumbled something to us and pointed to our bags and indicated that we needed to follow her. So carrying our backpacks, we started to follow her. Then, she started running towards a bus stationed at the top of a hill. It was only about a hundred metres away, but with the altitude and the weight of our backpacks, we struggled to keep up with the woman and both of us felt like we were going to pass out with exhaustion. A couple of times, we had to stop briefly to catch our breath and to allow our heart rates to slow enough to prevent it from jumping out of our chests. We made it to the connecting bus just in time before it took off.

We arrived in Sucre a little later than scheduled, but we had expected the bus to be on Bolivian time. We arrived at our accommodation and we were unsure how we might get in contact with our Airbnb hosts, as we didn't have a Bolivian sim card and we had no access to Wi-Fi. Normally, we would try and find a McDonald's to use their Wi-Fi but McDonald's was driven out of the country a few years ago because they weren't making a profit. Luckily the cleaning lady in the apartment building pointed us in the right direction of our hosts, who worked a few doors down the street. Lady luck was on our side and we weren't left out in the lurch for the night.

The first stop was to stock up on supplies so we headed to a store nearby that specialised in dairy and egg products. Still speaking pigeon Spanish, we asked for a dozen eggs and a litre of milk. The lady behind the counter began to laugh at us as she threw the dozen eggs and a litre of milk in separate plastic bags – no container for the milk and no egg carton for the eggs. The woman asked, in Spanish, “Where are you from?”, and our response was a surprise to her. Whenever we say that we are Australian / somos Australianos, it is normally met with, “oh, Italianos” and we need to correct them. While sitting in the main Plaza de 25 de Mayo, an old man approached us and asked where we came from and then proceeded to rattle off almost every European country before we put him out of his misery and told him the truth.

On our second day in Sucre, we decided that if we were going to stay in Bolivia for a month we should buy a Bolivian sim card. This proved to be a bit of an ordeal that lasted about 2 and a half hours. Firstly, we needed to obtain a ticket to get into the queue to see a consultant. The queue was over an hour long so we headed out to explore the streets and to munch on some street food. We arrived back and our number was called. Apparently the consultant couldn't attend to both of us and we needed separate numbers. Go figure. After both of us explaining what we wanted to separate consultants, we had to go to a different counter to purchase the sim card. Then, we needed to wait and go back to the consultant with the receipt to get the physical sim card to put in the phone. Once we had gone through this process, it was like groundhog day and we had to go back to the cashier counter to purchase credit for calls and internet data. It all seemed a bit crazy to us gringos.

All of this back and forth made us work up an appetite, so we wandered into a local restaurant and ordered the two course menu of the day for AUD$2.50. With our bellies full, we rolled out onto the streets in search of dessert. All over the city, we found all kinds of sweets: homemade ice-cream, cakes, cups of jelly with whipped cream mixed with condensed milk and much more. Ricky's sweet tooth was in heaven. We became regular customers (caseros) of the homemade ice-cream lady, frequenting her stall almost daily. We became so familiar to her that she began calling us “Papitos”, an endearing term that translates as “little daddy” but is used for a special man/boy in someone's life. Much of our time in Sucre was spent wondering the streets consuming copious amounts of food. How could we not test the different delicacies!

Now that we were in the land of quinoa we had to try all of the different dishes and beverages involving the sacred grain of the Incas. Since we have been in Bolivia, we have tested quinoa beer, a non-alcoholic quinoa drink, a quinoa burger, a quinoa confectionary bar and quinoa soup. If this continues, we may start sprouting quinoa from every orifice.

Other than the theme of quinoa, another common sight we have become accustomed to in South America is civil unrest and street protests. While wondering the streets of Sucre and oblivious to crowds protesting against the proposed new penal code in Bolivia, we heard what sounded like shots being made in the air, but thought nothing of it. From the moment that we arrived in Sucre, we had noticed the signs on many houses stating that they supported their doctors. We soon learnt that the doctors in Bolivia had been on strike for over a month and only emergency services were being performed. As we walked closer to our accommodation, the sounds of protestors became clearer and we decided it would be best to avoid them. As we turned the corner, we ran smack bang into another mob of protestors and quickly retreated. Further protests continued in the following days and weeks.

While Sucre is not a large city, there are numerous areas within the city to explore. El Reloj, an area to the north of the city, became our playground for the day as we explored the local markets. Ricky even bought a new pair of shoes to replace the pair that had been worn out. Part way through our excursion of the market, nature called and Jason needed to use the public toilet. As he entered the toilet, a woman outside yelled something but the only word we understood was “gringo”. The woman then looked in my direction and started to laugh. Ricky walked over to her to strike up conversation but understood very little. What he did understand was that the younger girl sitting next to the woman liked gringos. Ricky got the impression that the woman was trying to play match-maker and was trying to marry off the girl. Pity he plays for the other team!

Another area of the city that we explored was La Recoleta, on the south-side. La Recoleta is famous for its sundial in the centre of Plaza Pedron de Anzúrez and the adjacent church and monastery. It’s also a great place to get panoramic views of the city. But the focus of the city seems to be on the Central Markets and Plaza 25 de Mayo. Both of these places became our regular hang-out for twelve days. There wasn't a day that we didn't frequent these places. We even saw the New Year in at the Plaza, witnessing the locals celebrate with (personal) fireworks. People all over the Plaza were setting off fireworks, which at times was a bit scary, but few batted an eyelid.

We started the New Year by enrolling in Spanish classes at the Me Gusta Spanish School. We hoped over the next week the teachers might be patient enough to progress our Spanish ever so slightly. We weren't expecting anything drastic. Also, it was a great opportunity to meet other travellers and local teachers. We both were definitely pushed outside of our comfort zones, but, while challenging, it felt like we had accomplished something that we could continue to build upon. It was a great way to spend our time in Sucre. We had already spent a week in Sucre and what better excuse to stay on longer by enrolling in Spanish classes.

But all good things had to come to an end. Jason chipped a tooth while eating nuts, after visiting the markets with his Spanish teacher. Fortunately we were provided with details of a nearby dentist, who agreed to see Jason, even though he wasn't officially working. All fixed up, Jason could continue to graze along the streets of Sucre.

But unlike the children of Sucre during la fiesta de Reyes Magos, Jason didn't need to dance for his treats. As we walked to Spanish School on the 6 January, we noticed many of the people in the streets carrying dolls of baby Jesus in baskets. We later found out that this was part of the celebrations of the fiesta de Reyes Magos. We sat, drinking our freshly squeezed juices at the Central Markets and chomping on a freshly baked salteño, as children danced in front of a Christmas tree in order to receive their presents.

The baby Jesus dolls, which to us looked a bit freaky, weren't the only sights that we observed on our journey to school. On a number of occasions, we witnessed elderly women squat in the gutter of the street and relieve themselves, with their long skirt shielding the view from passersby. Some were so old it was a wonder that they were able to get back up again (... and still be alive). No wonder Ricky got fixated on the Spanish phrase "tengo que hacer pipí (I have to pee)".

We also got to interact with some of the locals as well as other fellow travellers during our time in Sucre. During the latter part of our stay, we met an Estonian couple, Kadi-Riin and Magnus, who were sharing the same Airbnb as us. Some of the locals that we met included a young guy called Marley – like Bob Marley – and a woman named after the infamous French Queen, Marie Antoinette. It became apparent within a few minutes of chatting to Marie Antoinette that she had a particular obsession for the French Queen with the same namesake. She repeatedly spoke, in Spanish, about the history of Marie Antoinette. While we didn't understand every word, we got the gist of what she was saying. At one point, she wanted our contact details and stopped an Ecuadorian guy of African decent for a pen. We politely excused ourselves and said we needed to be elsewhere. And we did. We needed to head to our next destination.

Next stop: Santa CruzRead more