Making Peace With La Paz

Our ferry to Copacabana

Needing to escape the cold from La Paz we went north to beautiful Lake Titicaca – our destination being Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun).  To get there we stayed over in Copacabana (like the song) for the night and the next day took a 2-hour ride on a creaky and gasoline-fume-filled boat to the island.  The story goes, according to Incan history, that the sun and moon were born out of this massive lake, their physical proof being this island and the adjacent Isla la Luna (Island of the Moon).  The hostel we’d done research on said it was located “just up the Incan stairs at the crest of the hill”.  Ha!  We docked the boat and soon saw the nearly vertical ancient stone-made staircase that awaited us.  For an elevation-acclimatized, fit person not carrying their life-belongings on their back and chest, it may have not been a big deal, but after only a few steps up Kelly and I were gasping for air, her a little worse since she was still getting over her sickness.  About halfway up we heard an angel calling out “cabanas” and we quickly abandoned our plan to stay at the hostel, enjoying some much needed privacy and a tremendous view of the island below, the lake and the distant mountains.

Copacabana

The Struggle up the Incan Staircase

Juan and I stayed on the island for two nights, walking along the well-worn paths alongside villagers, donkeys, sheep and llamas and enjoying the tranquility that comes with the absence of cars.  We visited the Incan ruins of the Temple of the Sun and ate at an off-grid candle-lit restaurant called Las Velas that sits at 4010m just past a eucalyptus forest.  It was one of our best meals in Bolivia, a local dish of trout baked in a wine sauce with veggies and quinoa.  There really isn’t much to do on the island, but between short walks (which were inevitably uphill and therefore quite exhausting with the elevation), relaxing in the sun, and eating, we managed to fill up our days.  It was also here that we made the difficult decision not to go to Peru.  I had spent some time making up an itinerary of how our next two weeks would look if we continued on to try to see Machu Picchu and it was constant travel with no room for protests, blockades or sickness.  The fact that it would be so rushed and that the border was still having problems made the decision an easy one…especially as we sipped fresh orange juice and gazed out over Lake Titicaca.  We’ll have to save Peru for out next trip to South America.   

The view from our cabana

  

The Temple of the Sun

Masked Shoe-Shiner in La Paz

Coca offerings at the Temple of the Sun

Our journey then took us back to La Paz one last time, which was now starting to feel like home after so many visits to the same hostel, Bacoo.  We enjoyed some delicious Mexican and Indonesian meals striving to not get sick this time and visited the touristy shops that sold beautiful and unique textiles.  We stumbled upon a coca museum that gave a good history of the plant, from its religious use to how it’s made into cocaine and abused by many.  Did you know Coca-Cola still uses coca to add flavour?! That must be the “natural flavours” in the ingredients list...  Taking my friend Leith’s advice we visited the Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) some 45 minutes away driving and another 45 minutes if you include waiting for the micro-bus.  It’s a wild landscape formed by cooling of lava – why there and how it was shaped into that? I don’t know, but it really does feel like you’re on the moon.  La Paz definitely has a lot to offer and in the end really enjoyed our time there, but our time was running out, and our lungs had been weakened too much from the altitude and from constantly inhaling the heavy metals from vehicle exhaust.  It was time to move on.

Witch's Market - dried llamas fetuses

Valle de Luna

Valle de Luna

From La Paz Juan and I decided to head to Samaipata, a small town situated in the southeast of Bolivia with a more humid and warmer climate than La Paz.  It was a long, cold, bumpy journey by overnight bus (with no bathroom) to Santa Cruz, with a shorter connecting ride to Samaipata.  Unfortunately there was another blockade three miles out of town when we arrived in Santa Cruz and we quickly realized that we weren’t going to Samaipata that day.  We weren’t in a touristy neighbourhood and asked if there was a hotel near-by where we could stay the night in order to catch the morning bus.  We were directed towards a bombed-out shell of a building that made my skin crawl…luckily there was another hotel or as they are called here “Residencial” nearby that was clean and more inviting.  We did nothing in Santa Cruz except watch movies and rest.  The next morning as we were walking to catch our bus, we were stopped by a taxi heading to Samaipata, already loaded with a few passengers and ready to go.  We jumped in and were in Samaipata well before noon.  

El Fuerte - Samaipata

Can you see the Incan face?

Samaipata is home to many ex-pats, and Kelly and I could see why - nestled in the mountain forests with a temperate climate, quiet streets, delicious restaurants and a multitude of activities to do in its surroundings.  It was near here, in Valle Grande, that Che Guevara was defeated and killed.  We didn’t make it there, but I could just imagine him and his followers thrashing through the mountains and dense forest.  Our first day there we made it to El Fuerte (The Fort), a pre-Incan settlement with a distinctive massive rock carved out with elaborate designs and features.  At some point during the “conquest” the Spanish used it as their base, hence the name.  It’s located pretty high up a mountain so we were literally feeling the clouds go by bringing along cold, humid air.  At several of the lookouts we could barely see anything, but the clouds gave the trek a very mystical feel.  The weekends are generally busy here with Santa Cruz citizens coming down to their cabins, but on this Tuesday we had the whole place to ourselves.  The next day we explored Las Cuevas (The Caves), a set of three waterfalls of increasing height (not sure where the caves came in).  We again had the whole place to ourselves and it was delightful to explore the trails and feel the force of the water underneath the falls.  Samaipata was definitely a place that we could have stayed longer, but with our trip drawing to a close, we had to move on.

Green Roof in Samaipata

Another overnight bus (worst bus ride to date) brought us to Sucre, Bolivia’s most beautiful city and also a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  I’m fairly certain there was a strong French influence at some point in its history…the name of course is one indication, but also the chocolate shops and miniature Eiffel Tower are powerful clues too.  Sucre is a very pleasant place, with a huge main plaza, plenty of parks and museums, white colonial buildings (in fact most of Sucre’s buildings are white due to its heritage status – they’re not allowed to paint buildings any other colour) and the most beautiful cemetery in South America.  Whether this last claim is true, I’m not sure, but it was probably the nicest cemetery that I had ever been to.  While in Sucre Juan and I celebrated Canada Day at El Florin, an ex-pat run bar/restaurant, where we watched the first football game of the Copa America (Argentina vs. Bolivia).  The bar became a crowded, rowdy place with cheering and yelling for both teams, though in the end the game ended in a tie 1 – 1.   Sucre is a place for chilling out and that’s what we did.  We drank Bolivian wine, wandered museums, checked out the artisan shops, snacked on freshly made chips from ladies on the street and had some nice meals.  We were in Sucre for two nights and that felt long enough.  We were ready to head back to Argentina…though we knew it’d be a grueling journey on yet again another overnight bus. 

Fresh chips right on the street

Even heritage status can't dissuade the Simpsons!

Sucre

That “worst bus ride to date” Kelly mentioned above actually became the second worst.  From Sucre back to the border town of Villazon was utter torture.  We thought we’d learned our lesson on the previous bus ride to bring warm clothing, but my tuque, neck warmer, gloves, two layers of socks, long underwear, t-shirt plus two long sleeve shirts and a fleece sweater, plus a blanket weren’t enough to keep the cold out, which was coming from the drafty windows.  Crying kids behind and in front, a bumpy dirt road that never ended, no bathrooms and barely reclining seats made for a tough night to say the least.  We couldn’t wait for the plush, wide, fully reclining seats, panoramic window views, full meal service and bathrooms awaiting us in Argentina. 

The Museum of Archeology

Bolivia proved to be a wonderful alternative to Argentina’s Patagonia.  Sure, we didn’t climb any majestic mountains or experience the roar of glaciers breaking off, but we experienced a new, vibrant and rich culture that made us feel glad globalization hadn’t yet conformed everyone.  Many people still speak their native tongue (like Quechua or Aymara) and women especially still dress like they did hundreds of years ago.  Their food is authentic and delicious and as the religious festival we saw in La Paz called El Poderoso showed (the biggest in South America) they still highly value their traditions and customs.  Bolivia is definitely lacking in a few areas, such as pollution control, proper bathrooms that preserve your dignity, indoor heating, and its title of being South America’s poorest country.  But the beauty of the countryside and preservation of the culture sure makes up for it.  With that said, Kelly and I still can’t wait to head back to the relative calm and familiarity of Argentina.

Ciao, ciao.

Juan and Kelly