La Paz!
It was one helluva journey to get from London to La Paz. We left London at a respectable 4pm. I'm so used to having to get up early for Sleazyjet and Ryanair flights, that the scheduled departure time of 3pm felt like a treat. But naturally I left everything to the last minute, so that on Saturday morning I was packing, doing some last minute work and running out to buy a padlock. Fortunately the flight was delayed by an hour, because it took an hour to queue to check in. With American Airlines, "Bag Drop" doesn't mean bag drop, it means check in, change your flights, or do anything else you like to keep others waiting.
Not an auspicious start but at least the flight wasn't as "biz" as described by my sister, with regular drinks and a pretty decent meal. Then we arrived Miami for our stopover, where things got progressively worse. Even if in transit, you still have to go through immigration, reclaim your baggage and check it back in for the next flight. It took an hour for us just to get through immigration and I thanked my lucky stars that I don't have to travel regularly through America.
Finally through, we went back through to departures, and a couple of hours later were on our next flight to La Paz. Except half an hour in, we had to turn back because the weather radar on the plane wasn't working, and thunderstorms had been forecast for the route to La Paz. Back to Miami we go, where American Airlines dilly dally over whether or not to put us all in a hotel, depending on how soon another flight could be available. At 2am they decided that they could schedule another flight for 6am and gave us all food vouchers for the only cafe open. We queued for an hour for food, before bunking down on the airport floor for a couple of hours kip. Cosy!
We finally arrived in La Paz at 2pm, 8 hours later than scheduled. Taking a taxi from the airport (60BOB), we checked into Loki hostel, sister hostel to the place I stayed at in Mancora 2 years ago, and chosen for its reputation as a place to party in La Paz (much like the one in Mancora!). First things first though, we needed to shower after our epic 28 hour journey.
We then wasted no time in booking our trip to bike down Death Road for the next day. Loki has its own travel agency, and offers trips with 4 different companies, including Gravity and Barracuda. We had a quick Google and decided to go with Barracuda - it sounded quite good and was in the middle of the price range, at 500BOB each, which is about £47.
After, we went in search of the famous Witches Market, which turned out to be only a 10 minute walk from our hostel. We walked up and down the street it was supposed to be on, finding only artesanas shops, selling jumpers, scarves, and the rest of the usual handcrafts. Sal managed to find a poncho she liked, but we still couldn't find the Witches market, with all the weird things we'd heard it had. Finally we found it, and it was a bit of an anti climax! There was just one shop, and it seemed to sell lots of herbs and spices and then hung up outside were some dead, dried baby llamas. These are usually used in a ritual offering to Pachamama. To our uncultured eye they were a bit gross, but effectively what we had been looking to find. Also a teeny bit of a letdown, as it was just the one stall.
The sun was rapidly setting, so we decided to make a dash for the cable car that we had seen on the way in. It was only a 10 minute walk from the Witches Market and the hostel, but uphill. If you didn't already know, La Paz is one of the highest cities in the world, at a staggering 3500m above sea level. Which means that when you attempt to do anything remotely strenuous, you feel it immediately. Some people really suffer with the altitude and develop altitude sickness, where you get headaches and feel nauseous, but luckily the worst that Sal and I seem to feel is a bit breathless. But still, those 10 minutes uphill!
The cable car seems to be very new and has 3 shiny terminals and automatic barriers. And it's a bargainous 3BOB/30p each way. It's no tourist attraction though - the people of La Paz clearly use it for their commute too. I forgot to mention that La Paz is situated in a basin, high up in the Andes, and apparently, the higher up you go the poorer the people are. And if you ever get lost, the easiest way to find your way is to head back downhill.
Getting around in a vehicle can take a long time, as the streets wind their way around the sides of the basin, whereas in the cable car you can go from near the bottom to the top in 10 minutes.
We jumped out halfway, not realising that we hadn't reached the top. We got back in, and the views were more impressive the higher we got. Just a shame that by the time we had reached the top, the sun had already set, but still, the city looked breathtaking in the dark.
We took a few pics at the mirador and for the ride back down we got in one of the cable cars, and were a bit disappointed when a lady and her daughter got in with us, as we had wanted it to ourselves. Silly of us! We quickly got chatting (a good test of my Spanish!), with the lady telling us that she was born in Peru, but had married a Bolivian, and had then gone on to work in Munich and also in Malaga, as a housekeeper for the holiday properties out there. We had a really nice chat with them all the way down, and as we got off the cable car the lady told me to put my camera away, as someone would glady steal it. Then she gave us both both a kiss on the cheek and said goodbye, and we went our separate ways, us feeling a bit warm inside because talking to them was one of those nice travelling moments that happen when you least expect it! And we had wanted the car to ourselves, silly billies!
Next stop was dinner at The Steakhouse. It's a gringo restaurant not far from Loki and oh my god, they served up one of the biggest and best steaks I've ever eaten. 96BOB/£9 for a steak is very expensive by Bolivian standards (locals pay between 6 and 15BOB for a menu del dia), but compared to what you'd pay at home, and for the size of the steak, it was bargainous! Neither of us could finish it!
We thought we'd check out the bar in Loki afterwards but it was really quite chilled out, the music was pumping but people were sloping off to bed quite early. We wondered if it was just because it was Sunday night, or because it was low season, and there was only one way to find out, we'd have to go back the next night! It worked out fine for us anyway, as we were knackered from the journey and had to be up at 6:30am for Death Road the next day.
Not an auspicious start but at least the flight wasn't as "biz" as described by my sister, with regular drinks and a pretty decent meal. Then we arrived Miami for our stopover, where things got progressively worse. Even if in transit, you still have to go through immigration, reclaim your baggage and check it back in for the next flight. It took an hour for us just to get through immigration and I thanked my lucky stars that I don't have to travel regularly through America.
Finally through, we went back through to departures, and a couple of hours later were on our next flight to La Paz. Except half an hour in, we had to turn back because the weather radar on the plane wasn't working, and thunderstorms had been forecast for the route to La Paz. Back to Miami we go, where American Airlines dilly dally over whether or not to put us all in a hotel, depending on how soon another flight could be available. At 2am they decided that they could schedule another flight for 6am and gave us all food vouchers for the only cafe open. We queued for an hour for food, before bunking down on the airport floor for a couple of hours kip. Cosy!
We finally arrived in La Paz at 2pm, 8 hours later than scheduled. Taking a taxi from the airport (60BOB), we checked into Loki hostel, sister hostel to the place I stayed at in Mancora 2 years ago, and chosen for its reputation as a place to party in La Paz (much like the one in Mancora!). First things first though, we needed to shower after our epic 28 hour journey.
We then wasted no time in booking our trip to bike down Death Road for the next day. Loki has its own travel agency, and offers trips with 4 different companies, including Gravity and Barracuda. We had a quick Google and decided to go with Barracuda - it sounded quite good and was in the middle of the price range, at 500BOB each, which is about £47.
After, we went in search of the famous Witches Market, which turned out to be only a 10 minute walk from our hostel. We walked up and down the street it was supposed to be on, finding only artesanas shops, selling jumpers, scarves, and the rest of the usual handcrafts. Sal managed to find a poncho she liked, but we still couldn't find the Witches market, with all the weird things we'd heard it had. Finally we found it, and it was a bit of an anti climax! There was just one shop, and it seemed to sell lots of herbs and spices and then hung up outside were some dead, dried baby llamas. These are usually used in a ritual offering to Pachamama. To our uncultured eye they were a bit gross, but effectively what we had been looking to find. Also a teeny bit of a letdown, as it was just the one stall.
The sun was rapidly setting, so we decided to make a dash for the cable car that we had seen on the way in. It was only a 10 minute walk from the Witches Market and the hostel, but uphill. If you didn't already know, La Paz is one of the highest cities in the world, at a staggering 3500m above sea level. Which means that when you attempt to do anything remotely strenuous, you feel it immediately. Some people really suffer with the altitude and develop altitude sickness, where you get headaches and feel nauseous, but luckily the worst that Sal and I seem to feel is a bit breathless. But still, those 10 minutes uphill!
The cable car seems to be very new and has 3 shiny terminals and automatic barriers. And it's a bargainous 3BOB/30p each way. It's no tourist attraction though - the people of La Paz clearly use it for their commute too. I forgot to mention that La Paz is situated in a basin, high up in the Andes, and apparently, the higher up you go the poorer the people are. And if you ever get lost, the easiest way to find your way is to head back downhill.
Getting around in a vehicle can take a long time, as the streets wind their way around the sides of the basin, whereas in the cable car you can go from near the bottom to the top in 10 minutes.
We jumped out halfway, not realising that we hadn't reached the top. We got back in, and the views were more impressive the higher we got. Just a shame that by the time we had reached the top, the sun had already set, but still, the city looked breathtaking in the dark.
We took a few pics at the mirador and for the ride back down we got in one of the cable cars, and were a bit disappointed when a lady and her daughter got in with us, as we had wanted it to ourselves. Silly of us! We quickly got chatting (a good test of my Spanish!), with the lady telling us that she was born in Peru, but had married a Bolivian, and had then gone on to work in Munich and also in Malaga, as a housekeeper for the holiday properties out there. We had a really nice chat with them all the way down, and as we got off the cable car the lady told me to put my camera away, as someone would glady steal it. Then she gave us both both a kiss on the cheek and said goodbye, and we went our separate ways, us feeling a bit warm inside because talking to them was one of those nice travelling moments that happen when you least expect it! And we had wanted the car to ourselves, silly billies!
Next stop was dinner at The Steakhouse. It's a gringo restaurant not far from Loki and oh my god, they served up one of the biggest and best steaks I've ever eaten. 96BOB/£9 for a steak is very expensive by Bolivian standards (locals pay between 6 and 15BOB for a menu del dia), but compared to what you'd pay at home, and for the size of the steak, it was bargainous! Neither of us could finish it!
We thought we'd check out the bar in Loki afterwards but it was really quite chilled out, the music was pumping but people were sloping off to bed quite early. We wondered if it was just because it was Sunday night, or because it was low season, and there was only one way to find out, we'd have to go back the next night! It worked out fine for us anyway, as we were knackered from the journey and had to be up at 6:30am for Death Road the next day.
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