A day in La Paz, Bolivia.
Covid protocols are still in effect at the airport and all of our vaccine cards or negative tests were checked before we could head to immigration. Masks were given to those without; wearing them was mandatory.
At immigration I was asked if I had a visa. I didn’t and was directed to another desk. There, Alejandra told me it would be 160$US. I handed her eight 20 dollar bills and she carefully inspected each one for marks, tears, or blemishes. With each bill she rejected I tried another until finally she was satisfied. She asked for all of my documentation and had me fill out an application. She tapped at her computer and my visa emerged from a small printer by her side. She carefully affixed it to my passport, covered it with a laminate, and directed me to the desk beside her. My passport was stamped and I was on my way. I was almost the last person from our flight to make it through.
Julio Cesar met me outside and introduced me to Ricardo, our driver. I hopped into the van and we made our way through the dark and almost deserted city. Here and there I could see a few people walking the 3am streets. One corner burst to life as a small stand had set up selling midnight snacks.
At the hotel I checked in and practically passed out. I had gone from sea level to 3600m in the span of two hours and found myself panting as I walked up even a slight flight of stairs. I set my alarm for late the next morning. I had lunch reservations at Gustu followed by a half day city tour at 2:30pm.
I slept off and on and finally got up at 10am. I showered and dressed and asked the desk attendant where to find an ATM. Two blocks up he said. It was the hardest two blocks I walked in recent memory as I had to ascend a steep incline to reach it. I passed a streets lined with souvenir shops, walls covered with street art, shaded with hanging umbrellas and figurines. I took a roundabout way back to the hotel to explore.
Lunch was fantastic. I opted for the 8 course tasting though my waitress wasn’t sure I would be able to at first. Fortunately it turned out ok.
The courses came fast and furious. I was the first to arrive and the only person in the restaurant for almost the duration of my meal. Throughout, I watched through the windows into the open kitchen as my meal was prepped and prepared and then brought out.
Julio and Ricardo were already outside when I finished. I hopped into the van and Julio said we would be headed to the Valley of the Moon, a park that had been fashioned from the clay deposits left when the entire area had been under water. The pale clay and sand-castle like towers do appear otherworldly and we slowly made our way along the 45-min route through the park.
At the highest point of our walk we paused at a lookout to sit in the shade and he outlined my trip for me. A couple of visitors appeared and they asked him if he knew what caused the landscape we were in. They had been debating amongst themselves. Fortunately for them they came to the right place as Julio explained to them what he had already explained to me.
Our next stop was a tour of the city’s cable car system. Consisting of over 30km of cables it’s the longest air-suspended public transport system in the world. The cars and stations were spotless.
We took the yellow line up into the mountains surrounding the valley and then the silver line across a newer city overlooking the valley before taking the red line back down into La Paz. En route Julio pointed out the neighborhoods and the tall buildings that lined the main avenue that ran north/south through the heart of La Paz. He also pointed out the distinctive architecture that adorned the hillsides, describing here the names associated with one neighborhood, there how a contest led to the colorful art and colors that adored another.
At the end, the red line left us in an old converted rail terminal. Once there were trains connecting the main towns but a Chilean company had bought the railroads and run them into the ground. Now few lines remained.
Ricardo picked us up and brought us to the last colonial street remaining in La Paz. Julio told me about the revolutionaries that once lived there and their efforts at independence.
Now, it was lined with museums, which were mostly closed for the day. The street was empty; I assumed most people were home with their families.
From there it was a short walk to the main square fronted by the presidential palace and congress. I was surprised how small it was, and Julio commented on how it’s a huge contrast to most of the main squares through South America. A Christmas tree had been set up and people dressed as Santa and the Grinch offered themselves for photos.
As we reached the other end of the square, Julio pointed out the point from which all measurements in Bolivia stem, kilometer 0.
Our final stop was the so-called witches market. There, Julio brought me into a shop to show me the offerings people make. He had pointed out the homes of shamans when we were riding the silver line, a series of solid square structures backed up against the edge of the cliffs. He told me that the most important offering was a naturally-aborted alpaca fetus and he pointed to the larger dried baby alpaca and vicuña suspended on the walls.
We were just around the corner from the hotel. Julio Cesar left me there and arranged a sack breakfast for me given my early departure. We bid our adieus. He told me Ricardo would pick me up at 05:45 to take me to the airport. I thanked him and wished him a Merry Christmas.
I was exhausted. Between the heat of the sun and the altitude I was ready for a nap and took to bed as soon as I was able. I woke again at seven and had a quick dinner in the hotel restaurant. I didn’t want to go far; I wanted to be back in bed as soon as I could to catch up on the sleep lost the night before.
But afterwards I made my way down the street to the Plaza Mayor de San Francisco where a festive atmosphere had taken root. On one end a crowd lined the steps that formed a natural amphitheater and laughed and applauded the antics of an emcee and the various challenges he gave a child selected from the audience. Balloon sellers lit up the square with flashing lights. A Christmas tree ran through its own programmed sequence of lights anchoring the festivities.
I ducked into the church. A mass was under way and I silently counted my blessings, offering a prayer for family and friends before stepping back out into the night and the promise of another year full of wonder. 🇧🇴
