Busses and Busses and Busses, Oh My!

After one more night in scenic Ollantaytambo, we took another crunchy, stuffy minivan (How many people do you think you can fit into a minivan? Well the answer is at least 20) and then to a bigger but just as stuffed bus back to Cuzco.
Inevitably when you have an aisle seat on the bus, you have to succumb to your body being used as a service to those standing in the aisle. I scored the window seat and got to look at the beautiful scenery passing by. Jordi was fine with his aisle seat until a couple different ladies began using different parts of Jordi´s body as a seat, luggage holder, and hand rail - until his personal space was completely obliterated and I could hardly see him.
When we finally got off the bus Jordi asked me, "How do you say, 'I have leprosy' in Spanish?"

We read about a hostel that was part of a convent and school in Cuzco. We went there for the night, and it was cheap, quiet, clean and orderly. The next day we didn't have any plans, but our bus for Bolivia left at 10:00 p.m. We did a lot of walking around town, played chess in a coffee shop, found a bookstore, and had our favorite meals of huge cheap fresh smoothies and dirt cheap Peruvian food in the market.
We made it to the bus stop and on the bus, sitting right in front of a precariously gumpy one-year old. Though she began crying numerous times, she never fell through with it in a serious manner, for which we were very relieved.
We were told we would have "barely" a layover in Puno (Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca - we were on our way to Copacabana which is the Bolivian side of the lake) "Maaaybe half an hour." Well it was definitely more than three hours we spent at the Puno bus station in the wee hours of the morning. We were also told our seats would lay all the way back into beds and there would be airconditioning, which were also evil lies. I was beginning to suspect they tell you whatever you want to hear.
Then we got a bus that didn't even have a bathroom for the rest of the trip, basically it was a schoolbus. Anyways, we finally got to the Bolivian border and it was freezing and rainy. Everyone had to get out and get in line for this before getting in line for that, before getting in line to be approved before getting in line for immigration.
There were a couple more busses there also, and wouldn't you know it but out of the hundreds of people at the border, Jordi and I were the Only Ones who had to pay the Bolivian government $135 EACH to enter their precious country. This is because the US charges Bolivians $135 to enter America, so they thought they would show Americans the same kindness. The only thing is, you don't usually stumble through America on your way to somewhere else. We were just passing through because it happened to be on our way to Argentina. The guy taking our money said, well for Bolivians to the US, it's only a 30 day Visa, but this will last you for 5 years!
And whyyyyyy may I ask do you think I will come back to this inhosptitable place ever again?
Anyways, while all this paperwork and paying was taking place, our bus left. There we were, in the rain, stripped of $270 dollars, and left behind at the border.
I cried.
The people in the office said to take a taxi the rest of the way to Copacabana and the bus driver would reimburse us. So we took a taxi to Copacabana, and watched the bus park downtown. But the bus driver refused to reimburse us. I followed him when he tried to get away from me, I yelled at him, I demanded money, I asked him what he would feel like if he had just been robbed and left behind, I said I was So Sorry we were too busy paying almost 300 dollars to be on time to the bus, I said it is his responsibility to make sure all his passengers are there, I said could he not have waited a few more seconds?? I said give me 20bolivianos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (which is the equivalent of three dollars - Bolivia is cheap) And so was this bus driver, for he refused. All the tourists and half the town saw this scene, and how ridiculous he was. I even started crying out of exhaustion and frustration, and all he said was "It's your fault, you took too long."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
In retrospect I thought I should have taken down his name and license plate number, but then complaining to the company probably would not have done a thing, as this was the company the promised first class luxury and delivered this crap.
Welcome to Bolivia.