Day 135 - A Journey in a Trufi

A Journey in a Trufi

Getting around Bolivia’s major cities is easy.  The larger cities all have airports and regular flights between them.  But if you are a little more adventurous, and want to see the real Bolivia, you must leave your comfort zone.

On October 30^th, I was returning to Santa Cruz after two days in Samaipata.  I stopped by the trufi office, Transporte el Fuerte, on my way to the Plaza to look for something to eat.  The man there said it would be a while before they left, because I was the only passenger at that moment. 

A trufi is a group taxi.  They are faster than buses and don’t make that many, if any stops.  You have to know where the trufis are located.  The one that runs from Santa Cruz to Samaipata is close to the second ring.  In Samaipata, it is just off the Plaza.  They will not leave until they fill all the seats and kids don’t count as passengers, because they can sit in their parent’s lap. 

So being the only one, they weren’t going to leave.  When I returned from eating, they were starting the van and about to head out.  There were no more seats available.  There was already a lady waiting for the next trufi, so I headed back to the house, gathered my things, and came back.  I didn’t have to wait long.  As soon as I arrived a lady came and said she and another were going if they would pick them up around the corner.  A man called and said pick him up too.  Shortly after two more ladies arrived and now the trufi was full.

We drove around the corner and pick up the two ladies.  Then we drove another three blocks and honked the horn for the man.  He wasn’t there.  A few more honks and a man came running up a dirt side street.  Now we were on our way.

About five minutes out of town we pass by the waterfall and fifteen minutes after that we pass by las Cuevas, where there is a trail that leads to swimming holes and beautiful waterfalls.  I haven’t seen the waterfall yet.  A few minutes after that we reach a beautiful house, sitting on the side of the road.  The garden is beautiful, but more beautiful are the peacocks strutting along the side of the highway.  To me that is my marker that we are leaving Samaipata.

The next hour is twisting and turning through gorgeous valleys and precipitous cliffs. It is a tropical paradise.  There are dirt roads that lead further into the valleys.  Dogs are sunning themselves on the road, meaning there are people in the area.  I wonder at the people that are walking down the highway.  Where do you live?  What do you do for a living?  Have you ever been out of this place?  It is beautiful, but I cannot imagine living here.

After an hour and a half, the heat hits you.  Almost immediately, the road turns a corner and we are at the Angostura, a tool booth.  Beyond begins the long, relatively straight stretch of highway leading to Santa Cruz, but that is an hour away.  First there is the town of El Torno, where everybody is out for the Sunday market.  Another dozen towns dot the highway, all seemingly busy.  We reach La Guardia and I can sense my home is approaching.

We hit the outer edge of Santa Cruz, probably about the 12^th ring, and the man gets out.  Not far past my school, two ladies get out.  Another two tell the driver to drop them at the 4^th ring, but when we get to the 5^th ring they say this is where they want out.  Another lady gets out at the 2^nd ring where we are making a U-turn to go to the trufi office.  It is busy and has lots of taxis, so I get out there too.

Two and a half hours to the minute from when we left Samaipata, I walk into my apartment and collapse.  I need a day off to rest from my weekend!