After being escorted for $3 to the border at 2am by a little old lady down a dirt path past a shanty town and over some railroad tracks, we safely arrived in Bolivia last night. We made it official with an entry stamp this morning and caught a bus to Santa Cruz, which seems to bear no relation to the one in California. In Argentina they give you food on the bus which is inevitably bad. In Peru and Bolivia they stop at roadside restaurants for food breaks where the food is not necessarily bad. We knew for sure we were back in Bolivia when a whole declawed chicken foot surfaced in our soup, which quickly ended my enjoyment of the soup. Then back on the bus, they played some strange Mexican musical called, Entre Monjas Anda El Diablo, that involved cock fighting and belting out songs with your buddy over a bottle of tequila. The screen flashed between blackandwhite and color every second.