Robarro!!!!

Robarro!! - Jez

After being out in the salt flats for three days, we were pretty keen to get out of Uyuni. So we had a quick pizza dinner and got ready to catch a bus out to Potosi. As we hadn't been to an airport in a while, I just had my passport tucked into my backpack. We were keeping a close eye on our bags whilst waiting for the bus since the bus terminal was actually just a dusty street.

When the bus arrived we stowed out big packs up on the roof and hopped on the bus. The seats were pretty cramped, so as normal I chucked my backpack into the overhead compartment and got into my seat. This turned out to be a mistake as soon after sitting down the man sitting behind me began telling me (in Spanish) that a gourdo (fat) negra (black) man had just stolen and run off with my bag. The thief was already long gone but we scoured around the dusty bus street anyway but saw no sign of him.

And thus began the saga of the missing passport.

We all got off the bus and collected the rest of our luggage before it left town. We needed a home base to make some new plans, so we checked into the closest hotel. After securing out belongings in the rooms we went off to the police station. Luckily Mark had enough Spanish to explain what happened to the police, and we learnt that the Spanish for insurance was seguro. The police weren't overly helpful and managed to get my name and the date wrong on the initial police report. But once that was corrected we walked away with an officially stamped police report.

Next we went into a small shop that had internet and a couple of phone booths. It was run by this crazy lady who very firmly insisted that we couldn't use any USB and that Gemma couldn't use my computer station while I was on the phone. And finally the phone cut out in the middle of my call to my insurance company. So needless to say we left and went to a better, internet cafe.

The next place was normal, so while the others checked Facebook, I got on the phone and talked to the NZ embassy in Santiago. After spending the better part of an hour on the phone, it turns out that the best plan is to go to the British embassy in La Paz and get them to issue me a temporary document that will allow me to leave Bolivia and fly to Santiago. Once there, the NZ embassy can issue me an Emergency Travel Document. Although most countries accept this as the same as a passport, Brazil and Argentina do not. And these were the only countries left on our trip - not ideal.

We briefly considered some alternative plans like splitting the party up or spending more time exploring Chile, but decided to sleep on it and reassess in the morning. We had already lost a day by starting in Uyuni another night, so we needed skip Potosi and get to Sucre if the others (with passports) were going to catch their flights.

Next morning we had a futile search around the bus street and the surrounding blocks to see if the robaro had dumped either my bag or passport. There are piles of rubbish in the centre of each intersection that act as dirty roundabouts, but none of them had my bag hidden in it.

We had given up all hope and went to book new bus tickets out of Uyuni. Mark went in to a couple of shops to scope out prices, and when he asked the bus company where we got robbed, there was a surprise waiting for us - my passport! The robber had no use for a New Zealand passport and had kindly handed it in. No backpack, but with my passport in hand we could continue on our trip. Happy days!

Love Jez