The road to La Paz

6 June 2013

Today was overcast, grey and rainy, with a touch of hail that was so light it was almost snow. It was the perfect day for a quiet road trip. The double-decker bus from Puno to La Paz followed a main road along the lake’s shoreline. We passed field after field of sheep, cows, vegetables and fruit, and small villages consisting of little shack-like houses similar to those we’d stayed in on the island. The houses were made with concrete or metal walls, and had reed, matting or metal for the roof. Their metal front doors were painted to look like they had little insets and carvings, with pretty little decorative swirls and flowers.

In the lake, fishermen had set up rows of big black nets and moored their dinghies and motor boats at wooden posts hiding among the tall reeds. Where the water had flooded onto the land near the road, birds were happily washing and flicking water about.

The bus itself was pretty chilly, and most of our tour crew was coughing, full of colds that Chris had probably given them! We made it through the Peru–Bolivia border crossing fine (my unmarried status – and that of one of the other girls – didn’t go unnoticed by the customs man) and we settled into our slightly crappy, disorganised hotel, Las Brisas. While most of the staff did their utmost to be rude to the hotel guests, the security guard was very friendly to me in the lift. A little too friendly, you could say. So, after checking with Dennis (our tour leader) that it wasn't some odd Bolivan custom to try to kiss random strangers on the lips, I dobbed on the guard and we didn't see him again.

Dennis took us on a little walking tour of La Paz. And I have to say, first impressions weren’t great (nor were any later impressions, to be honest).

La Paz is a little like Quito, in that it’s a huge city in a valley, spreading up and across the big hills around it, as far as you can see. And that’s where the similarity ends. Bolivia is clearly a lot poorer than Peru, and with that comes a certain seediness and sense of desperation, and overall shabbiness.

Beggars ask for money (and get cranky if you refuse). One beggar babbled incoherently at Chris, bowed to him, then walked away. As you do. The streets are very dusty, dingy, grotty and run down, with rubbish and graffiti everywhere, and cracked and holey roads and footpaths. Everything is ‘in construction’, with concrete, metal, bricks and wires lining the street.

The city is rather chaotic, with cars going wherever their drivers choose without indication or attention to the road rules (if there are any). Like in many third-world Asian cities, it comes down to whichever driver is the most persistent or stubborn. People drive fast and slam on their brakes at the last minute, and push in front of each other, hoping the other person will give way. The only saving grace is that there don't seem to be quite as many cars, buses, motorbikes or bicycles as there are in Asia (but it comes pretty close).

On the way into the city, we saw an effigy of a man tied up high on a pole, like they used to do in medieval times. I’m not sure what it was about, but it left us feeling rather uneasy! Actually, the whole place has a bad vibe and we were a little more alert and aware walking around there than we were in Peru.

On our walking tour, we stopped by the witches’ market, which I'd been really looking forward to. Sadly, it was a little disappointing – more a row of several shops with a bizarre (and not entirely Wiccan-related) mix of paraphernalia, including dried llama foetuses, baby llamas and other dead animals; various herbs and plant matter; novelty sex-related items (like ashtrays that look like bums or boobs); tinctures; oils; lots of religious icons and talisman; and random snacks, cigarettes and magazines. It was all rather gruesome and peculiar. The market is also rather pungent, I presume thanks to the formaldehyde used to preserve the dead animals.

We made our way through the streets – directed where to cross the road by some men dressed as zebras (still haven’t worked that one out, although I do get the zebra crossing pun!) – to San Franscisco Square, outside the big cathedral, so we could get our bearings. Then Dennis took us back to the hotel so we could relax before our last tour group dinner at a Thai-Indian-Malay fusion restaurant.

The restaurant and meal were quite nice, and we enjoyed sampling the cocktails and Jaegermeister (for medicinal purposes, of course). And while it’s always sad for chapters in your journey to end, Chris and I were also looking forward to having a bit more freedom to do as we wanted, when we wanted, and having some quiet time to ourselves.