The strange life of tin tin
Trip Start
Feb 06, 2006
1
4
Trip End
Ongoing
La Paz, Bolivia
Sunday, July 6, 2008
flying, the other is over booked and no flights are available until a couple of weeks from now. So I am making my way overland back to Lima by a different route than the one I originally took. Aaaack. One thing I have learned on this trip is to never say that you are going to hate a city before you have ever been there. And donīt trust other travellers to know your taste. I thought I would hate La Paz. Big city, dusty, dirty, poor as hell. I fell in love with it.
It is all those things I mentioned but somehow so much cooler, nicer, crazier than I ever expected. Itīs a city in a bowl, surrounded by mountains. And the bowl runneth over with terracotta buildings spilling over the lip of the mountains, skyscrapers filling the middle of the bowl, and shantytowns scattered everywhere else. I donīt thing there is a level street in the city, everything is steeply up and down and being about 3600 meters above sealevel, going 3 blocks is enough to turn your lungs into a quivering mass and set your head a spinning. The poor assault
you at every turn and if you donīt see thier hand in your face, you catch thier scent from the street above. Markets abound. On one major street there are vendors that spill onto the street. Where Iīm supposed to walk, I donīt know. I dodged cars and weaved around Andean women like a pro before too long and stepped gingerly around oncoming taxis like a drunken ballet dancer.
On the street where the market stalls met the road, there was a different series of vendors every 50 yards. One area was nothing but shoes, then skirts, then bananas, peaches, grapes, fish, grain, and anything else that you could desire. One after the other tumbling downhill, the fruit choked with exhaust and the fish declaring war against your sense of smell. If the Andeans didnīt make me heave, the fish certainly did! Somehow I felt utterly at home and safe there. Even though itīs a notoriously dangerous city. I got to know the streets, how to avoid the outstretched hand wanting bolivianos (the money there), and where to find a kick ass pair of white ankle boots (the epitome of Bolivian style, very au courant). As much as the city has to offer, they couldnīt offer me a camera. Actually, they did have cameras, but they never wanted to open up a package of batteries to show you that the camera worked. Very odd, like Iīm gonna spend $600 on a camera that you canīt find a battery to. As you can understand, business is difficult there. Now Iīm in Puno, Peru. The very pit that I declared never to step foot in! I arrived today and hailed a bike-taxi and fell right in the middle of one of thier greatest fiestas, Candelaria. Itīs something to do with the Virgin Mary and involves bands and dancing secretaries. More on this later...
Anyhoo, I hope everyone is healthy and happy because thatīs what really counts!
I send you all un gran beso!
tin tin
