The ride out of Santa Cruz was really easy as I only had to take one turn after I left the apartment. I left at 7:00am because I had an ambitious plan to travel 450kms on the first day and that only left me around 300kms to do on the gravel road on the second day to get to the land of asphalt and petrol. Brazil. After a couple of hours I was back in the lovely town of San Julian. And to my disappointment the cars I’d photographed outside my old hotel several days earlier hadn’t moved. Still no diesel, but apparently, they had a truckload of petrol the day after I’d left but that was now gone.

I’ve had a couple of people contact me asking why there is no fuel. Great question and I don’t have an exact answer. Apparently they have no diesel because they have no foreign currency to pay for it. Some people say it’s sitting in Chile ready to come but there is also some sort of strike in Chile and they won’t let the trucks leave? And there are a lot of politically motivated blockades, particularly around Cochabamba and they are not letting anyone through in either direction. I had wanted to go there but it wasn’t possible. Fuel tankers need diesel and I have seen them sitting in the fuel queues in some towns.

And when some petrol does arrive it is closely monitored, and people must have all the correct paperwork to be able to buy it. And I’m not sure if is rationed? I did see both full and empty tankers driving around as I have been travelling. The coke bottle people must just line up with their 20L container and paperwork and then once they get their ration they sell it for twice the price they buy it for and get back in the line. Potentially making $10AUD each time they can buy and sell a container worth. They would have to queue for days for that. Not a big income earner. I had noticed a few coke bottles in a couple of smaller towns on my way through and so I was hopeful my lady would be there. But she wasn’t. But. Another lady was. I was able to fill my tank, which only needed 4 litres, but I wasn’t going to pass on that. She asked $1AUD a litre (local coke bottle price) and I gave her $1.50AUD and she was very excited and happy. As was I.

My next destination was the town of San Javier. The roads were reasonable, and I made good time. I parked out the front of a lady’s shop that was selling fresh chicken bits. I bought a coke from her fridge and we had a bit of a chat and she said she would watch my bike while I went to church. She had a lovely smile and a missing tooth and a big meat cleaver. Perfect. The church was basically across the street and took up a whole city block. I had been told about the churches by some friends and thought that seeing I was in the area?  I had no real expectations but was quite impressed. It was about four bucks for entrance to the museum and church and I only had about 20 minutes as they were closing for lunch, which I had read about earlier. And I was the only person there.

My attention was probably more drawn to the size and construction of the buildings. There are several of these churches spread over a wide area in the east of Bolivia. I had plans to visit 3 of the main ones which were on my route. It’s only now that I am reading up about them. They are built with timber and have been built very well as the oldest one is over 400 years old and the newest 270 years old. The three I visited are sort of similar but all different.

They were built by the Jesuit missionaries who arrived in South America in the 1500’s. Unlike the Spanish settlers and colonists who basically moved in and took over, the Jesuits came and moved in and took a long term approach and learned the local languages and cultures and built schools and churches to help the locals convert to Christianity. Over time the Spaniards grew weary of the Jesuits and their success and the way they protected the indigenous land and populations. There was a short war and then in 1767, King Charles 3^rd expelled all the Jesuits from Bolivia (and other countries) and then the Spaniards and other religious groups moved in for the spoils.

They eventually came back in the 19^th century and tried to take up where they left off. They are still here now, and their churches are UNESCO world heritage sites. From San Javier to the next town of Concepcion was only an hour but the church was closed for lunch. I found a nearby old Jesuit building which is now a restaurant and had a feed. There were half a dozen tourists there with a guide. The first foreigners I’ve seen for a while. There was also a buffet lunch and I shamelessly ate all their broccoli and made a decent effort at the salad. It’s not something I see much of.

I was taking a few external photos of the church and saw the caretaker returning from lunch and as long as I paid my money, he was willing to let me wander through by myself. Another 4 bucks. 10 minutes was enough to check it out. The biggest difference I saw was in the gold leaf over the timber. Especially the altars and the confessionals. The fact that I know what confessionals are makes me chuckle a bit. All those times I had to go to confession when I was a kid and confess all my sins. And some of those priests are now locked up in jail or died there.

From Concepcion, it was 170kms and 2.5 hours to San Ignacio de Velasco where I planned to spend the night. I arrived just before dark and went into a hotel on the main square to check the price. I had broken my previous record of around 400kms by 50 kms and it had been a long day and it was still really hot so I didn’t really care how much the room cost. But when he said $100, I suddenly cared again. I had seen a place next door and so I popped in there and it was $25 with breakfast.

This place was an old Jesuit building that had evolved into a hotel. Nice old building and run by missionaries. I think. Well the young women who checked me in was definitely a missionary. She spoke some English and needed to because I think she was very enlightened and has a plan to convert the whole world. She was very excited to meet me as I was the first Australian she had ever met. Actually, that’s quite funny. I’m the first and possibly the only Australian that some people will ever meet. I hope I give a good impression. This young lady’s brand of religion hadn’t reached Australia yet and she was determined to be one of those to get there and enlighten us. It must have been just like that 500 years ago when the missionaries first arrived in Paraguay. She said that she had a gift for me and that she would give it to me at breakfast. Oh no.

I told her where I was going and she said it was unsafe. I had heard this before. A few times. She suggested taking another route but I didn’t have enough petrol to go that way. She said she could find me some fuel. In the end she couldn’t but there was another hotel guest who had just arrived from Brazil and despite saying it could be dangerous, he said I should be fine and just don’t travel at night and if you see something dodgy going on then just look the other way and continue on. Sound advice.

I headed out to find some food and have a look at the last church for the day. It was a freebie because some sort of service was happening. It looked nice all lit up. I discretely took a few photos and then wandered down the street and stumbled on a bar that looked like it was from Kununurra in the Kimberley. A real cowboy type bar and restaurant. I wasn’t overly hungry and I thought I ordered the smallest thing on the menu but it was pretty big when it arrived. And it was delicious. I almost licked the plate when I was finished. Terrible photo. It’s a skewer of meat. At least my body was well stocked for tomorrows adventure. Today had all gone to plan which was nice.

Next morning I was up early. I was unable to find any fuel so I emptied my container into my tank and it filled it perfectly to the top of the tank. The plan was to go to San Matias which was the border town of Bolivia and Brazil. It didn’t have great reviews but I thought if it was really bad I could cross over into Brazil when I got there. It was 300kms of gravel road and half of that was following along the Brazilian border. Slightly weird, but borders are often just lines on a map. I was confident that I had enough fuel and hopeful I could fill up in Brazil when I got there.

Breakfast was great and the lady was lovely. I ate well, even though I wasn’t hungry, because she had gone to so much effort and I also wasn’t sure when I would be eating next. And then she said she had my present and asked if I knew what it was. A Bible. In Spanish. How did she know that I didn’t have one. Fortunately, it was quite small. Strangely, my first thought was that it was fate, and I should stick it in the front pocket of my jacket and then it may stop a bullet. It squeezed nicely into my bag, which was already on my bike, which was packed ready to go.

I said my goodbyes and headed off towards Brazil. Just finding the road out of town was a bit of a challenge but once I found it, I was on my way, safe in the knowledge that I had my bible and some prayers to protect me. But, God had other plans for me that day.

KMS 12635