I arrived at La Paz airport, with many hitches, too complex to describe, at 5.35 am, almost the obligatory one hour before the departure of my flight to Oyuni in the South of Bolivia.
The check in was straightforward, I had two small bags as hand luggage instead of one that was allowed but no one said anything. I was reasonably asked if I was carrying a knife. I said no. I was asked if I was carrying shampoo. I said yes. That's ok then I was told.
Security screen over I went to a cafe and asked that they provide me with cup of tea and a sandwich as rapidly as was possible, as my flight to Oyuni was leaving in around 30 mins and I imagined it would be boarding.
The list of flights on the departures board displayed three possibilities for the status of the gate. Embarque, straight forward, people were getting on. Pre embarque, also straight forward I thought, the gate was not yet open just stay where you are. Cerrado. Tough luck , gate closed.
I watched Pre Embarque for a while. The waitresses who had flown around to organise my breakfast watched me and branded me unreliable because my time with them was not as rushed as I had declared but obviously very relaxed. With fifteen minutes to my flight time to go and Pre Embarque still showing on the board, I thought I would investigate and I headed towards the gate. Security was a breeze, throw your bags through the scanner, liquids and all, and collect at the other side.
There was one woman in security, and I was the only passenger. As four flights at least were listed for boarding at gate 7A I was surprised no one was around. I could see a very empty 7A. I asked which gate was for the Oyuni flight. A sole member of ground staff standing at 7A shouted to me that the Oyuni flight was leaving. I was the last passenger. Go go, she said, ushering me through the gate. Just go, plane is on the right.
I went; out on to the tarmac. I turned right. It was not yet light. Four Amazonas planes were on the ground and trucks were loading bags. No other ground staff were outside. No reassuring blue suited attendant standing at the wing tips to prevent a person from throwing themselves in to the blades of an engine. I climbed the stairs of the first aircraft. Oyuni I said confidently. Buenos Aires the indignant hostess said, as if she would commit her labour to anything less than an international flight. Go go, she commanded. Again I went, Argentina not this time being on my Solo Madonna list.
I descended the steps. Attempting to apply logic to the situation I chose the smallest Amazonas plane to board next, presuming the larger aircraft must all be international. A member of ground crew did appear at this point waving me outside the double yellow lines beyond which the waiting planes were lined. Oyuni I shouted to him. He was wearing ear muffs and just gesticulated to the right. I boarded the steps of the smallest plane. Oyuni I said with some desperation, presenting my ticket.
Sucre. We are going to Sucre a very smug hostess told me, but this is a privately chartered flight.
Sucre! The whole time I had been in Bolivia I had wanted to go to Sucre, but the persistently bad weather had meant planes were unable to land there. This was the closest I had come to achieving my dream of travel to the white city in the Andes. I wanted to ask her how this plane was going to land but she was not in the mood to chat. I was waved from the plane. The family or business commissioning the flight clearly not ready to accept a stranger in to their midst.
I believed at this point I had missed my flight. I was back on the tarmac with two planes to my right still available for selection when the most extraordinary thing happened. The member of ground staff with the ear muffs and very large gloves decided to treat me like a plane. He brought me towards him with very positive hand signals, turned me around, motioned for me to pass the next plane I would have ascended and with a flourish of relaxed arms directed me to the last standing plane. I ascended the steps and he performed a sort of salute raising one arm dramatically in the air.
Sucre I said, with very little optimism. Si, Buenas Dias Senora, please take your seat, we are just waiting for six more passengers and then we will be leaving. Is everything ok Senora? She enquired. Do you need a glass of water? I think you are having problems with the altitude, no? Don't worry, it is a common problem !
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