The R&R Big Adventure

Sweet Sucre

I have previously said all the South Americans we have met so far have been super friendly – however one exception to this appears to be Bolivian Airlines crew. Having now taken three flights with them, and with one more to go, it is less ‘To Fly, To Serve’ with them, and more ‘To Sneer, To Ignore’.

It seems to be one of those (hopefully) few airlines left in the world for which if the cabin crew (and so far, from our experience, they have been 100% female) dare to get bigger than a size 10, or don’t apply the mandatory number of coats of Bordello Red lipstick and blusher each morning, they are quietly shown the door. I can only assume the critical take-outs of crew training are:

1. Try and avoid eye contact when passengers enter the aircraft, and only give a cursory ‘Buenas’ through clenched teeth if necessary.
2. Look as bored as possible during the safety demonstration, and be thankful as a land-locked country you don’t have to pull a deflated life jacket over your head, ruffling your hair.
3. Once the plane has reached cruising altitude, whip the curtain shut, and do not enter the cabin again until preparation for landing, unless someone repeatedly presses the call bell. If that happens, ensure the passenger knows the call bell should only be used in extreme emergencies.
4. On landing, enforce the ‘disembarkation by row number’ rule to the letter. If a passenger in row 6 stands up and opens the overhead locker before rows 1-5 have left, storm down the aisle (abandoning applying coat 5 of your lipstick) and firmly slam the bin door down. Berate the passenger in front of their family and friends so they never make the same mistake again.

I can only think that someone at BoA stumbled across a Pam Ann sketch on YouTube, and genuinely mistook it for a corporate training video.

Sucre has been a delight to explore today – it reminds both R and me of a European city – the colonial whitewashed walls and manicured squares reminiscent of Seville, although perhaps with a vague whiff of Paris about their drains. To be fair, Cartagena was prettier, but Sucre doesn’t have the hustlers or American tourists. The temperature has been Spring-like, and it is a relief to leave the high altitudes behind (which were both dehydrating, and giving me headaches, despite guzzling water).

After a month away from home, we both needed a haircut, so used our best pigeon Spanish to explain what we wanted to a local barbers. Our barber(ess) was great, and actually did a better job than our respective ones back home. And at half the price. However we also now both have the same haircut.

We meandered through town today, stopping off at an amazing market – the choice and quality of food beating any market at home. Ever since I arrived in South America, I have been in awe at the size of their avocados (madame). We are planning on going back tomorrow to try one of the juice stalls – you choose your fresh fruit from one of the enormous displays, to then be liquidised into a smoothie of your choice. We couldn’t do the obligatory cathedral visit – closed – but popped into another church, and got an impromptu private tour by one of the officials, including a visit to the crypt (apt, seeing actual skeletons on Halloween), and to the bell tower, which gave a great view over the city.

We returned to our hotel for a leisurely afternoon. It is in a lovely colonial building in the old town, with a beautiful central courtyard replete with fountain and bougainvillea. Our room is on the corner of a tower, on the top floor, and from here we can currently see flashes of lightning over the neighbouring hills, and can hear the distant sound of bands playing in the street. We are looking forward to experiencing how All Saints Day is celebrated tomorrow, in a devout Catholic country, whilst we are here.