Myself and two mates were in Peru, waiting to explore Bolivia, but the border was closed due to one of their frequent mini revolutions.
Bus loads of white faced tourists were streaming past, their glazed eyes staring out of smashed windows – then suddenly it came over the radio – the border was open again. We hightailed it down there, got our passports stamped at an Army checkpoint and went to walk ahead..when the guard rushed out and called us back.
“What’s wrong ?”
“You can’t go any further up this road.”
“Why not, you’ve just ok’d our passports ?”
“Yes, but we’re only the Army, the people still have not opened the road.”
Oh well, it’d be interesting to see all this drama, so we walked on. The road was littered with rocks and broken glass, and then here it was, a metre high stone barricade blocking off any passage.
Only thing was, there was not a single person manning this fortification. So we simply strolled around it, found a cow path off to one side, and wandered down to Lake Titicaca that way.
Can you guess the reason why?
Yes … it was siesta time!
“I will die for the revolution … but don’t be silly, I’m not going to miss siesta”