NB: Forgot to say that on the evening of Day 40 I watched "Quantum of Solace", a very apt film as it is set in Bolivia.
Day 41
A surprisingly pleasant 2nd class overnight train brought us to Oruru and a quick vomit later (still ill) I grabbed a bus to Bolivia´s de facto capital, La Paz. (Sucre remains the official capital, but to all intents and purposes it is La Paz). Visitors to La Paz often comment on its dizzying altitude (3660 meters), but as we were actually descending from Uyuni, we scoffed at their ill-adjusted constitutions! We approached La Paz from above and got fantastic views of the city clinging to the steep sides of the canyon of the Rio Choqueyapu, overlooked by the Illamani volcano. This remains one of the few capital cities I´ve seen where the natural landscape dominates the city, rather than vice versa, and you can never get lost as all roads lead downhill to Las Ramblas (the central street).
For dinner I headed to the Mercada Lanza, a mass of stalls selling anything and everything. Walking through what looked like a dirty Borough Market, I was so tempted by all the weird and intriguing goods on offer. However, still feeling weak from illness I stuck to buying some pasta, sauce and an aubergine. Summoning what little energy I had left I cooked up the pasta (as we are still at altitude water takes much much much longer to boil) and headed upstairs to meet the others. It is still painful for me to recount this, but as I reached the table the inexplicable happened. One moment my lovely pasta dish was in my hand, the next it was all over the two girls. I cleaned up the mess, offered to wash their tomato-covered clothes and went to bed a very hungry, grumpy boy.
Day 42
All morning we were locked into our hostel as a political rally marched right outside. The picture below is the view from our bedroom. The protesters regularly tossed sticks of dynamite in our direction and every time they exploded the whole street shook. After a few hours it passed and Tom and I headed out into the street. However, at that moment the police swooped, releasing tear gas and unfortunately we were downwind at this point! A few moments later our eyes were streaming and noses in agony. As we jogged round the corner a gorup of locals doubled over in laughter at the sight of us weeping gringos.
A much more tranquil afternoon was spent having a local woman give us a guided tour of the 460 year old San Francisco Cathedral. We enjoyed questioning her about the history of the colonisation of the country and the local religion (a mixture of native Mother-Earth traditions and Catholicism). Then we walked uphill to see the Bolivian Congress and Presidential Palace (both in the picture below) and avoided the pigeons like the plague. In a continuation of my dinner woes, I decided to eat in the hostel that evening and walked upstairs to find an absolutely amazing spread of delicious dishes (prime among which was a sweet potato souffle). This was posh restaurant quality food at hostel prices and I was grinning from ear to ear. Annoyingly however the guy in front of me in the queue ordered 10 covers and there was none left for me!! Feeling too ill to go out for dinner, I begged the staff to let me eat the tiny dregs left in the serving dishes. Dregs they may have been, but they were amazing nonetheless.
Day 43
Our hostel in La Paz is much-loved by travellers for two reasons. The first is that it has a microbrewery on site and the guests get a free pint every night. Alas, I was still a little too ill to enjoy this. The second is that the hostel price includes an all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast. No matter how ill I am feeling, I am always up for pancakes!. I then spent an entertaining hour at the post office trying in broken Spanish to send some parcels back to England and followed this by a stroll through La Paz´s many market streets. Due to popular demand, here is a picture of the llama foetuses that I once again found in the ´Witches market´;
Day 44
Another pancake breakfast and we set off for Copacabana, a small but enchanting town perched on the southern shore of Lake Titicaca. Lake Titicaca is a really big lake very high up in the Andes, forming the border between Bolivia and Peru. Indeed, it is so big that you couldn´t even see the other side. Due to the unusual shape of the border, our bus needed to be punted across the lake at one point to our great amusement.
Tom and I settled into a hotel on the beach front with a window overlooking the lake. Very romantic! The Bolivian town of Copacabana, unlike its Mexican/Brazilian counterparts, is more dedicated to Virgins than naked flesh, representing the religious heart of the country. Copacabana is nestled between several hills and with not much else to do that afternoon we decided to climb all of them. At the top of one called Cerro Calvario we encountered dozens of locals decorating statutes of the saints with fresh flowers. I gave the oldest one of them my cheeky tourist smile and she beamed back at me with a lovely toothy grin.
At the top of another hill we found the Horca del Inca, a pre-Inca astronomical observatory which the locals believe looks more like a gallows.
Our stomachs beginning to settle, we decided to try the local liquor Singani (a grape brandy) in the cocktail form of ´Chuflay´. It tasted like rum mixed with ginger beer. In a cheeky misinterpretation of our order, however, the waiter brought us two drinks each. Tom was horrified at the prospect of finishing two such girly drinks. I also tried the local delicacy of garlic trout fished from the surrounding waters.
Day 45
If I thought the Bolivian train system was slow, I now eat my words as the boat we took to the Isla Del Sol bobbed along slower than an overweight pregnant sea snail with severe water retention (Tom´s image, not mine). The Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun) is the legendary Inca creation site and the birthplace of the sun in Inca mythology. We trekked over a few hours the traditional path from the North to the South of the Island, passing numerous picturesque local villages. Ten kilometers of hilly walking at altitude did take its toll and more of the day may have been spent lying on the ground panting than admiring the many Inca ruins.
(An Inca altar table)
We decided that for the next few days the boys and the girls would separate. Therefore, when the boat took us back to Copacabana Tom and I ran to grab a bus into Peru while the girls remained in Bolivia.
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