How to spend two days in Sucre (sort-of)
Sucre’s as varied as the landscape on a three day salt flat tour.
I had quite a funny time in Sucre.
It began with a walking tour that left from the vegetarian friendly Condor Cafe. We started our tour by visiting the main square where Bolivias Declaration of Independence was signed, Plaza 25 de Mayo.
From there, we walked to Mercado Campesino, the largest market in Sucre.
There’s a lot of life happening in Bolvias' 'White City'.
It’s busy with shops spilling merchandise out onto the streets, children running around everywhere, dogs roaming over cobbles, old woman in metres of skirts plonked onto stairs, vendors selling goods out of suitcases.
The tour took us on a bus that weaved through the city all the way up to Calle Polanco, where the white arches of Monastery de la Recoleta frame panoramic views of Sucre.
We went to all corners of the city, yet the place we finished up is where I remember the most.
Sucres' strong religious roots were nowhere to be seen in this man cave turned bar.
The posters of topless woman lining the walls were visible from the outside. When we sat down at the yellowed formica tables, beer was served to us in glasses shaped just like the breasts of Miss Potosina 2014.
The barmaid kept the music flowing from the jukebox, while all the male patrons snuck sideways glances at the group of gringos sitting in the corner.
Far from being interested in the woman, the main attraction in our group was a six foot tall German man.
A game of El Sapo followed by more than a few beers loosened everyone up enough for a photo shoot.
The four old Bolivian men posed next to their new mate, two on either side, while the honorary BFG slung his long arms across them all, embracing everyone together at nipple height.
The whole afternoon, as well as the photo, was hilarious.
There’s real dinosaur footprints in Sucre.
I visited Bolivias Jurassic park, Parque Cretacico, with three other girls, meandering through the life-sized replicas until we came to the footprints of the real thing.
We all donned hard hats to venture down into the construction pit, where we got a good look at the hundreds of different shaped prints scaling the cliff face. It was pretty awesome.
That afternoon, we headed out to a waterfall that’s popular with the locals. Our guide led us through a somewhat shady part of town, ushering us behind the snarling pack of dogs guarding the entrance, before leading us down a rocky path at the back of a few rundown houses.
One of the woman in our group was struggling with the loose footing on the track, so our guide left us to take her back to the bus. But not before drawing us a map, Goonies style, so we could lead ourselves to our treasure solo.
When we got there, the waterfall was dried to the trickle of a dribbling hose that had some of us laughing, some of us fuming, as all good travel situations like that one do.
No-one had told us it was dry season.
I ended up that night on a date I didn’t plan, which could of been due to all the eighties clothing I kept buying.
The fashion in South America consisted of scrunchies with shimmery tops that left me looking like Nancy from Stranger Things.
Flying solo, I’d met a guy who offered to carry my overweight pack up the narrow stairs of the hostel, at altitude, after which we went out for a bite to eat.
Instead of food stalls, as I had in mind, we somehow ended up sharing a bottle of wine over candlelight. If your reading this, it means my sister convinced me to let this post see the light of a URL link.
After my comical few days in Sucre, I headed off to rejoin our traveling trio for another adventure, this time in the dense jungle of the Amazon.