Our first taste of Bolivia was La Paz, the commercial capital of Bolivia and where el Presidente lives and works. Due to that fact, our first full day there had the backing soundtrack of random blasts of fireworks. Not the pretty “ooh, aah” kind either, just the annoying-sounds-like-gunfire kind. Protests are popular throughout the country and the highest concentration is in La Paz.
It was cold, rainy, miserable and a perfect day to spend entirely in bed. Which is exactly what I did. Not because of protesters fireworks…lunch on the fronterra had developed into my own fireworks and I couldn’t physically leave the room. I’ve dubbed it the day I spent in Loose Paz, Bowelivia. After over seven months on the road, my luck finally ran out.
Backing up the next day we spent some hours shopping at the nearby Witches Market – left the dried llama fetuses and newborns to the locals and stuck to scarves and shawls. It’s only getting colder as we continue south – time to rug up. Food options are plentiful and delicious near Sagarnaga Road where our hotel was located. Big salads, good breakfasts and a cute, perhaps 9-10 year old daughter of the owner dishing out our drinks and helping total our bill. It was a Saturday and she was smart so we’re confident it’s only an outside-school-hours gig for her.
For a few hours in the afternoon we had a private tour with guide Teresa to points of interest around La Paz. Starting in the far south, past the richer neighbourhoods – due to better weather than the rest of the city because of lower altitude – we ambled through the Valle de Luna or Moon Valley. The beige/white clay forms peaks, deep holes, canyons and spires, shaped by wind and rain erosion. Population growth is encroaching on the Valley and only recently was it blocked off from development. The blind faith residents must have that their houses will be there after the next rainy season is admirable. As we drove back into the city, similar landscapes showed shacks perilously clinging to the hillsides with bottoms gouged away by previous mudslides. After each rainy season Moon Valley’s walkways have to be moved or repaired because natural bridges have been washed away.
Back in the bus we continued up to a viewpoint high above the city on the north east side – Killi Killi. There are three levels, the alto city high on the top of the mountain, the centre and the lower south built around four canyons. The elevation of the city ranges from 3600m to 4100m.
Down into the crazy traffic we found ourselves at the cathedral and in hushed voices and soft steps did a loop through the nave. Kristin and I both noticed a statue of Jesus that absolutely, positively looked like he was striking a pose like a cabaret dancer with a walking cane. Outside we swapped the tranquility for turmoil and ran through the throngs of pigeons in Plaza de Murillo who turn up to sit on your shoulder and fight for the crumbs. From this spot all roads are measured in Bolivia – mile marker número uno.
Also in the centre is Calle Jaen (Kaura Cancha – llama market) is the oldest preserved street from colonial times, a narrow, cobblestone alley with colourful row buildings on either side housing mostly museums, including the gold museum. Artifacts from the Tiwanaku people who it is believed gave rise to the all-conquering Incas. Thin sheets of gold shaped into diodemas that the royals wore on their crowns, a gold sequined poncho, braid decoration, arm cuffs, cups and shawl pins. There are also stone statues removed from various ancient sites and llama bones embedded in the courtyard paving just for something different…all of which we’re not allowed to take photos.
Finally we came to the Witches Market and learned a bit about amulets, superstition and nothing about the llamas. The smell drove us out fairly soon after we arrived. I was reminded of the traditional medicine shops in Hong Kong and how much I wasn’t fussed on the smell of them.
The evening marked the start of the next part of our combination tour with the welcome meeting. We have lost Camille, Louise and Stefan and are joined by Gina from Australia and Frankie and Katie from the UK. Imagine my surprise when the last of the new tourers joining the meeting turned out to be Andy from the Tucan tour trip through Venezuela, Colombia to Quito. It’s definitely a small world. I tried my first traditional Bolivian meal – silpancho de llama – side orders of salad and dry fettuccini underneath a thin steak of llama, topped with fried eggs and tomatoes and cucumber. I’m not a fan of llama…too gamey.
To round out our time in La Paz we visited the quaint coca museum, paid through the nose for accidentally choosing express postage for heavy packages to find their way home, got my daily dose of quinoa and said goodbye to Camille while we readied ourselves for the night bus to Sucre.
Oh yes…the night bus…broke down in Potosi for a couple of hours and again for half an hour about 60km from Sucre. I’m writing this as we sit in the line of traffic that is currently blocked from entering Sucre because of a car race…for the next five hours. We’re still 30km from the city, the bus is a stinky pigsty and we’re here for the hottest part of the day…the joys of traveling. In hindsight, perhaps last night in a real bed rather than freezing to the core on the bus and then a day bus to Sucre to arrive when the race is over would have been a better solution. I’m beginning to wonder if intuitive communication, problem solving and lateral thinking are foreign concepts here.