The trip to Qutapampa had taken five hours, while the return trip lasted seven (with a 30-second piss stop after a child was sick). It was 2am when we arrived at the La Paz cemetery district late but alive. I was keen to stretch my legs, when a couple of ladies urged me not to go. Curiously, neither she nor anyone else was making any effort to leave the stinking vehicle.
Fearfully, she said that the area was dangerous and full of thieves, so we should stay on the bus. Absolutely everyone else was doing exactly that—waiting until the sun rose. It did look quite rough outside; there were lots of drunk people shouting, relieving themselves, snogging and fighting.
It reminded me of Watford. However, here it’s not safe for westerners to pick up taxis, there have been too many recent hostage takings. Instead, we sat with the others and waited for our radio taxi to turn up. We pitied the long frightened night these poor country folk had ahead.
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