The City of Peace

If you are ever asked if you want to take a 12+ hour bus trip through the Andes Mountains to La Paz, Bolivia - take it! But, be certain you are ready for an adventure.

We left Arequipa 3-hours after our advertised time of 1 a.m. It seems that the bus was late in arriving from Lima for no known reason - at least one that was never shared or explained to us (from Lima to Arequipa is an 18-hour drive; and the bus was scheduled to go straight on to La Paz - YIKES!). This was our first indication that the trip was going to be anything but ordinary.

In traversing one of the many poorly maintained roads between Arequipa and Juliaca (a city that is only descriptive by one phrase - "desperately in need of gentrification"), we hit a large rock and broke a strut on the rear axil. The bus limped into Juliaca and we all waited for the 2-hours it took to repair the damage. For some reason they seem to be spending a majority of their time working on the engine and only a very limited amount of energy on the strut issue.

Once we were back on the road it became a trip that allowed us to venture "back in time" to a period when many of the upper Andean cultures lived a very agrarian existence. It is really striking how little life has changed on the antiplano. Even though I have ventured to the high mountains of Peru many times - I am forever struck by the simplicity of life. A life that is so strongly dependent on the care and custody of the Alpaca and Llama.

As we moved further and further into our adventure - past Juliaca, through Puno and the gateway to Lago de Titicaca, and into the border region with Bolivia - Ken and I were becoming more and more invigorated with the "possibilities" for our 48-hour trip. Going through immigration in Bolivia is NOT a straight forward task. The process for passing through the border is anything but clear. Once you finally figure out where to go and what stamps are required - there is also the delightful "shake down" from the Bolivian immigration police where they very politely (but sternly) ask if you think they deserve a "tip for their hard work." Boy, that extra $5 was some of the best money we spent on the trip - because I think we may still be in that dank office right now if we had not provided the "propina."

Once we got to the antiplano above La Paz (at an elevation of 13,300 feet above sea level), we instantly noted the chaotic nature of the roads and the traffic. Yes, traffic in Latin America is much different than in the U.S. or Europe - but traffic in El Alto is even different yet. The main road into La Paz from Peru is like a "flea market" with people, vendors and various forms of public transportation everywhere. And I mean everywhere - even on the sidewalks.

As we descended the road from El Alto into La Paz (a drop of about 1,200 feet) the sights and sounds became alive with the frenetic pulse of a city of over 2 million people. The first thing I noticed when we "dropped" from El Alto (you literally feel like you have fallen off the side of a cliff as you drive down the twisty road into La Paz) was a gigantic statute of Che Guevara at a highway overpass. Yes - the Latin American "liberator" is as popular as ever in the Andes.

Once we finally arrived at the bus terminal (one of only two buildings in Bolivia designed and built by the famous French engineer Gustave Eiffel), Ken was desperately in need of a bed and some coca tea - as the altitude had wrecked havoc with his head and stomach. We caught a taxi to our NY Times Travel website recommended hotel (Hostal Republica - a great, cheap place to relax; not luxurious by any means - but clean and a very friendly staff), and put Ken to bed. It was late (almost 10 p.m.) and we had been in transit for over 16 hours - we were both ready for a good nights sleep; but first, I went for a little late night walk. The streets of La Paz were still very crowded and every where I looked people seemed to be enjoying the brisk night air - it was cold . . . probably 28 degrees (F).

Early the next morning I awoke to find Ken still wrapped in his blanket cocoon. I decided to take advantage of the hour and go for a quite walk. Much to my surprise, I ran smack dab into Plaza Murillo (home of the presidential palace) - and who should be delivering an impromptu press conference, non-other than "el presidente" Evo Morales. That was pretty cool.

Ken and I decided we would make the most of our 36-hour stay in La Paz, and now that his headache and nausea had subsided - we hit the ground running (well make that walking - it was 12,000+ feet above sea level). We walked all over - visiting a number of

popular spots and just meandering the old colonial streets. We ended up in Zona Sur (the Southern Zone of the City where the wealthy live) for lunch at a great restaurant called El Vagon. The food was fantastic and the patio seating on such a beautiful "winter" day made the experience that much more enjoyable. After lunch we walked around this very ritzy part of town looking for an art gallery that I had read about in the NY Times. After walking around for over an hour, we finally found the establishment - only to note that there are no business hours on Sunday. Oh well, it was a great walk.

Later that afternoon we took the plunge and went to a football (soccer for us North Americans) game at the highest "pitch" in the world. Needless to say, this was some experience. Ken and I both were just in awe of the players abilities and the fans energies. We sat in the "north" zone (i.e. the cheap seats) and paid a whopping $2.00 (15 Bolivianos) for entrance into the game - that was for both of us. About half way through the very loud, getting quite cold, game - I got a cruel case of sorochi - altitude sickness. We headed back to the hotel where I took way too much Ibuprofen and fell into the bed with a covering for my eyes. Thankfully, all I needed was a couple hours rest and I was as good as new.

We took advantage of my quick recovery and went walking again - finding ourselves at the Witches Market area of the city. The market is a series of vendors selling every manner of potion, trinket and ritual sacrifice (well, maybe not that exotic). It was really interesting - but I can't say I was ever tempted to buy anything.

After our venture into the "dark side" we wandered the streets looking for a music venue I had read about, yup you guessed it . . . in the NY Times Travel website, called the Gota de Agua. Unfortunately, it was closed - what were we thinking, going to a music club on a Sunday night. Oh well, we tried. We even tried another venue (yes, through the NY Times) called the La Costilla de Adan (Adam's Rib) - but, you guessed it - it was closed as well.

We ended our evening with a fantastic dinner at the purported "best restaurant" in La Paz - a place called the "La Bella Vista" (the beautiful view). It was awesome. The view was breathtaking, the service impeccable, and the food . . . well, it was good, but two out of three is not bad. No really, this place is a "must visit" if you are ever in La Paz. It is on the 17th floor of the Presidente Hotel in the downtown section of the city. Really a wonderful experience.

Our Monday was going to be full. We had to be at the bus station for a 2:30 p.m. trip back to Arequipa and we had about two days worth of "tourist" activities we wanted to accomplish. I mapped out a plan and we hit the streets running. This time I literally mean "running" - as I went for a run (make that jog) early in the morning. Running at 12,000 feet is . . . well, I don't think I need to explain anything here. Suffice it to say - I was out of breath! We filled our morning hours with street wandering, a great breakfast at a wonderful cafe called Blueberries (worth a visit), and visits to two great museums (and the San Francisco Church). It was a slam packed day - and a perfect end to our whirlwind visit to this great city.

If I had to make any one recommendation for a visit to La Paz it would be this - get out an wander around. The streets are just teeming with life and the "people watching" is fantastic. One word of caution, be prepared for the altitude - it is an unforgiving beast and it deserves respect!

Viva la adventura!