Gonzo Travels

Off the cuff writing about the travels of a guy who people expect to be married, have kids, work the 9-5 and do all the other status quo nonsense.

La Paz, Bolivia

La Paz, Bolivia.

I’ve spent a few days in La Paz, much happier than my last visit, down, miserable and suffering from altitude I decided to head home and stayed in the cheapest place in El Alto, the extra meters making me worse.

This time, accustomed to altitude much happier, enjoying walking up and down then hilly streets, checking out the tourist shops and local food. I had a brilliant carne and pollo empanada that was also stuffed with potato and carrot, almost a Bolivian take on Cornish pasty. So much for my vegetarian diet!

My main goal here was to buy a poncho. Hundreds of shops sell alpaca ponchos, which to me look like they’ll get destroyed on the first camping trip. What I wanted was a tightly woven one, which the shops quoted me around 550Bs for. After passing an old guy on the street selling three ponchos hung up on the wall, I got what I desired. For 150Bs I have a second hand, musty, worn in poncho with history. I love it.

I wasn’t sure if the guy was trying it on at first, but I think illiteracy was the issue when counting out the cash, as he couldn’t count it right.

La Paz has an excellent cable car system across the city, each ride costing 3Bs, you can go to a couple of points up in El Alto, on near the airport and another to the huge street market that’s open on Thursdays. Personally I find cable cars terrifying, I don’t like being in a little box, hanging from a wire, so gritted my teeth and had just a few glances. If you love heights and great views it’s perfect for you.

There was an intention to visit the Sajama area for a few days, but the tour agencies are so flakey, after almost booking one with an agreed price, suddenly the entrance fee wasn’t included in the price, despite being quoted so, and a reluctance to use a card for payment . Another two took my details and didn’t come back. Unless you’re interested in the more popular and big ticket tours, it’s a pain to book.

Now organising my own way, I’m on a stinky bus to Oruro, flies pestering the passengers, I’m hoping I get there in time for a train to Uyuni.