Our travel log

When we left our last hideous 8hr border crossing with ecudaor/peru, we thought it would be the last of our border nightmares. We were so wrong.

Day 1:
After going to Peru immigration, we realised we had not been stamped into the country (although we swore we had seen them stamp our passports). We also did not appear in their computer system (although we also swear they entered our details onto the computer - remember, we finished this crossing in the dark, so had no way to check our passports, as far as we were concerned, the 35min in the office should have been enough time to have immigration done correctly). This, as the cheif of immigration told us, was a very very big problem. All the while enjoying ourselves in Peru, we had been illegal aliens. The head of immigration did not care that the paper work for our bike imports was immaculate, nor did he care that the police had stamped our tourist card. He simply accused us of going to the office to collect the card, and never speaking to immigration there. He proposed two options: he could hand us to the police, or we could leave Peru. Of course, we chose the second option.

Off we hopped with our bikes across the bridge to Bolivia. We talk sweetly with Bolivia, but they advise us they cannot let us in without an exit stamp from Peru. So we cross the bridge to Peru and ask again politely for the stamp. We are then hauled into an office where our short comings are explained. Apparently it is our responsibility to have our passports and tourist cards date stamped, and he could not give us an exit stamp (which we needed to enter Bolivia) because we didn't have an entry stamp; it was our fault because we avoided immigration in La Balsa. Then it came: it would cost us $1000 each to get the exit stamp we needed to enter Bolivia. The boss refused to give us his name or ID number. Gob smacked, we returned to our bikes. We then went to Bolivia with our news, and asked if there was anything we might be able to do to help get the entry stamp (fearing never getting off the bridge, and a potentially huge bribe on the Peruvian side, we were open to paying a smaller suggestion from Bolivia). No luck.

Let us describe this border to you: Desaguadero is a town of maybe 10,000 with a semi-major border in the middle. After the immigration, police and aduanero (customs) on the peruvian side is a bridge across a scummy river. On the Bolivian side is the same, except that there are around 4 shops either side of the road before the immigration office (alongside the aduanero and police in the middle of the road). We were incredibly fortunate: one of those shops was selling drinks, one snacks and another was a 'llamadas' office, including international calls. Remembering seeing the sign, we praised our decision to keep our lonely planet and to change money before we went to immigration, and went to call our embassy (with the number from the back of the LP).

After advice from the head consulate in Chile, Al went back to get the phone numbers of both offices (it was decided best given the machosim of latin america and the fact that Chris had ruffled the Peruvian boss a little by arguing with him already). He managed to get the number. Back we went to the calls place. They (Rosemary, the consulate) called the Peru fellas (no phone on the Bolivian side), who said they could not do anything, and denied asking for the bribe. By this stage it was getting late, the borders were closed or closing, so we decided we should camp on the bridge between the two border gates, much to the ammusement of the police who rather liked our tent and were surprised we were not cold. We had some of our stash of lollies and chockie bickies for dinner. In Alan's words, these are people who happily sit and watch cows and sheep all day. We expect we were in this for a long while yet.

Day 2:
We wake up. Aside from the dogs barking and fighting at night, we had a good sleep. Toasty at 3,800m. We make coffee and start to draw attention of the locals - especially the women who liked our stove. We try consulate suggestion to see if a different manager is on in Peru. No luck - the same guy will be back later. The boss on the Bolivian side does have a phone, but he won't be there until 4pm. We call the consulate again, we can't get through. We wait a couple of hours thinking our best bet is Bolivian manager (when he arrives). We chat with Bolivian police (who offer cash up front for our bikes) buy bread and coke, then call the consulate again. They offer to start pulling strings high up on both sides, just give them a couple of hours. We call back in a couple of hours (around 2pm). They have written a letter to the Peruvian President, and a letter to the minister of Justice. We are to go back to the Peruvian side and speak with a different person. We do that, and they say they can do nothing, although they understand our consulate is now involved. We explain we had little choice after we were asked for $2000, and given that could not go anywhere. They appologise for the bribe attempt. We go back in 30min and wait some more. They say they will speak to Bolivian boss when he arrives. We go back to the bikes and wait. At about 4pm we get the shock of our lives. We are summoned to the Peruvian immigration office. They will give us our stamps. We enter and exit, enter Bolivia and import our bikes into Bolivia. We are relieved, and grateful. We are proud to be kiwis, proud of our embassy, and internally grateful to the chilean consulate staff. We'd love to know what was in the letter to the Peruvian president, but more than anything we just want to enjoy our freedom after >24hours on that bridge.

Aside: At the same time our drama was unfolding, 3 Argentinian bikers (who we met in Cusco) are held on the Peruvian side; apparently they don't have the paperwork they need (they don't need paperwork; as argentinians they can travel with drivers license and ID card in south america). This speaks volumes to us about the corruption in Peru. What can you do? they jacked up a bribe with bolivian police and a time to cross when Peru was 'asleep' - but were lucky that in the end their perseverance was sufficient; we called our consulate. We'll be incredibly careful where we cross borders again (no more La Balsa) and we'll always keep consulate numbers close by.