La Paz

Where to begin? We’d read Lonely Planet and seen pix; it’s a city that started as a settlement around a river at the bottom of a gorge and has since grown up the sides and onto the plateau at the top, El Alto, where the airport is situated. As we landed in the ma and pa of a storm and couldn’t see the tarmac till 6” above it, we missed any early sight of the city itself. It was sheeting down with rain and about 2’, but we were overjoyed when eventually the last suitcase came out and hadn’t been left at the transit stop of Iquiqui after all. 

Safely in the hotel taxi out of the cold, we had our first introduction to La Paz traffic, as it took 10 mins+ just to get out onto the main road, inch by inch. Mick declares it to be even worse than Manila in the seventies! Then a big, colourful bus scratched noisily along Mick’s side of the taxi and unconcerned driver caught a gap in the traffic to zoom 3 vehicles ahead without stopping, whilst Mick and I were trying to photograph his non-existent number plate.  Welcome to the chaos that is La Paz!

And then – OMG !! Our first jaw-dropping sight of the city itself as the clouds lifted and there it was!  Far deeper, steeper, longer and bigger  than I had anticipated , a really amazing sight that we didn’t tire of in the 3 days we were there.

The buildings cling to the rocky sides, most half-finished, plain brick edifices, many only having ground floor windows and occupancy, very odd.  In the centre of town, and dotted about up some of the slopes too, are incongruous modern high-rises, mixed in with some splendiferous old colonial edifices in varying stages of repair and decay.  

Our hotel was in one of the high-rises, on the 20^th floor of an office block with a cinema multi-screen at the bottom, complete with standard smell of popcorn – not quite what I was imagining but it proved an oasis of sanity, modernity and calm in the maelstrom of the city, plus we had fabulous views of it, all around.

For two days, we walked our feet off – s-l-o-w-l-y uphill, as we acclimatized to the 3,600 metre altitude (it’s the highest airport in the world).  Saw so many wonderful edifices;

Every corner demands a photo, be it yet another glorious building,  a crazy jeepney, an unexpected piece of Spanish poetry etched into a paving stone, an old lady selling Chicklets chewing gum, a shoe-shine man buffing away,  the guards at the Parliament buildings….. as they say, every moment a Kodak moment. 

By far the biggest challenge was not to offend the short yet statuesque Bolivian women in their many kinds of indigenous costume, with points in common being the obligatory hat, often a tall brown, black or white bowler, but lots of other styles too; a beautiful shawl  -complete with elaborate jeweled pins – silk for high days and fiestas, practical wool for every day; and always huge, colourful, multi-layered skirts covering very ample backsides!!  They seemed not to like having their photos taken, so we resorted to sneaky ways… rotten gringos.

Some of the men were also in interesting costume, but most are dressed in Chicago style suits of the 30-40s.  Most of the youngsters are dressed in the ubiquitous standard street gear of modern times, complete with jeggings, platform soles (girls) and super- gelled spiky hair (boys). Mick says when they get older and fatter they’ll turn to the comfy skirts!!

Walking the streets was entertaining, so too were the excellent museums the city has dotted there and there, all housed in beautifully restored ‘colonial’ homes and compounds.  Our favourites were the Ethnicity Museum

The Museum of Instruments – beautifully showcasing several thousand different ways of making a noise!

The Historic Photography/Modern Art Museum (strange combo) – my favorite was an old photo of La Paz in the 20s.

And a collection of 3 museums in an interesting list complex, best was the Museum of Precious Metals showing the historical use of ritual ceramics and metals in Bolivia

The Costume museum was disappointing, not only NO CAMERAS, but only 2 costumes, the rest being clay models – hundreds of them, slightly caricatured, a bit like walking into a static Wallace and Grommit set!

The Casa de Murillo house was beautiful – again, no cameras - showing the contents of the home of a significant political figure of  the mid-late 1800s; it would have been nice to understand more of the history, but all the signs were in Spanish.  He was a significant player in the road to Bolivian independence, however, it seems that he and 5 fellow conspirators were all executed on the same day!!

To digress a little – few people in Bolivia outside the tourist industry speak any English at all, but they are lovely warm people and eager to try to help. Thing is, I can now speak just enough get-by Spanish to evoke a looong comprehensive reply, of  which I understand not a word!

On the second day, as we crossed the parliament square again, the department of Tourism and Culture was putting on a special show, so we joined the throng to experience some local dancing etc – actually the hierarchy on stage and the crowds were as much fun as the performers!

Then we sought-out the annual “ Minitures Fair” – a collection of stalls selling mini versions of all the things you might want in life – you take these to the Catho priest to be blessed then put them in front of the traditional God, Ekeko, who smokes a mean pipe, and hope for the best, all bases covered.

Unfortunately, it started to pour down again, and few stalls were open, but we enjoyed what we found.  It is quite liberating having no space in one’s luggage - saves making all those “ do I really want this?” decisions!!

And so to Bolivian food – the first night we had gone to a nice place recommended by the hotel receptionist, great “Dali-esque” decor, OK food, and my first glass of Bolivian wine – not great! Mick’s fine on the local beer!  Next night, we walked for ages to and around what had looked to be a “trendy” (such as they are) square, but the only one good restaurant was fully booked so finally we found a nice French-style brasserie, warm and OK. 

The last night we went “local” – to find the menu was all Italian fare! I really enjoyed the profiteroles!  Nice place, local clientele, busy and warm – and I’m getting used to the wine!  So as yet, no ethnic Bolivian food of note, though fried chicken seems very popular:

We really enjoyed our time in La Paz, though the weather is disconcerting – it’s always rainy apparently, and the altitude keeps it cool – rather “English” in some ways, you have to be prepared for everything!

Nb. This was written in Titikaka – you ain’t seen nothing yet re the local culture!!