La Paz

Formally known as Nuestra Senora de La Paz, or Our Lady of Peace, the big smoke of La Paz is a bustling city of 1.4 million at the bottom of a hole in the altiplano. The city centre, or el centro, sits at the bottom of a canyon at about 3600 m, while the rest of the city stretches up the preposterously steep canyon walls up to the rim of the altiplano at about 4100 m. La Paz is the “defacto” capital of Bolivia, making it the highest seat of government in the world (defacto because federal departments are shared with the city of Sucre).

At this elevation, basically everything gets to be labelled “the highest whatever in the world”, including the airport, which sits up on the altiplano just outside town at 4061 m, and is, wait for it...the highest international airport in the world (with all kinds of landing/takeoff adjustments due to reduced air pressure). Then there’s the “highest Irish pub in the world”, and of course the “highest professional sports stadium in the world”. Interesting story actually concerning that one. In 2007, FIFA (futbol’s international governing body) banned La Paz’s stadium from holding official World Cup matches. There were too many protests from other teams stating that the home team had an unfair advantage due to the altitude/oxygen issue (which is very real btw). But after a series of protests from the Bolivians, FIFA relented and gave them an exemption (the official FIFA rule is no stadiums over 3000 m can hold FIFA matches). Things get interesting when you’re living at 4000 m.     

The two-day ride from Copa was an adventure – our first real taste of nowhere Bolivia. The riding itself was fantastic. Climbing out of Copa, the remarkably good road twists and turns up into the Puna (high-elevation grasslands similar to our tundra) to about 4300 m then drops back down to the altiplano at 3850 m or so. Much of the ride hugs the south shores of Lake Titicaca making for stunning views. At one point, riding through some very aromatic pine-eucalyptus forests with sparkling blue water below, we were pinching ourselves to make sure we weren’t in the Mediterranean or some such place. Very nice.

We overnighted in a middle-of-nowhere town along the way, and came to some realizations. As mentioned in previous posts, Ecuador is a bit more run down than Columbia, Peru is a bit more run down than Ecuador, and, Bolivia is a lot more run down than Peru. A collection of buildings off in the distance (in most places referred to as a town), which usually represents offerings of civilization useful to us (e.g., stores, accom, food), cannot be counted on for anything, and more often than not is just that: a collection of buildings, usually mud or stone, and usually unfinished and seemingly unoccupied. Looking back, middle-of-nowhere Bolivian infrastructure makes Columbia seem like downtown Toronto. We may have to rethink our strategy of not carrying food or extra water. Being self-sufficient is probably going to be important. Our breakfast of mayonnaise and stale bread may not be sustainable over the long haul. However, partially finished brick structures provide good shelter from oncoming storms! There’s always a bright side.

All of that said, descending (45 minutes of coasting on a freeway) into La Paz was surreal. We landed at the Adventure Brew Pub B&B (yes, you read that correctly) that Amy found on-line. Within hours of stale bread, mayonnaise, and no running water, we were sitting on a rooftop patio enclosed in glass, listening to trendy music, drinking a micro-brewery amber ale, served to us by a bro from California. What a head spinner. Life in the big city.

Speaking of life in big cities, one of the big draws to La Paz is the shopping. Known for it’s buzzing markets, everyday is market day in La Paz. The streets are bursting with colours and endless fabrics. Whatever you want or need, big or small, from q-tips to plasma screens, it’s for sale on the streets of La Paz. The big ticket item here for gringos is Alpaca wool and the infinite forms it can be spun and woven, from socks to sweaters to guitar cases. And at Bolivian prices (alpaca sweaters for 10-15 bucks), it’s hard not to succumb. Amy grits her teeth every time I remind her that we can’t carry anything, so don’t even go there. But she has to, and continues to torture herself by browsing every step of the way. One of the downsides to long-term cycle touring is that you can’t really take on more stuff, so market opportunities like these, to people like Amy, are like waving a hot dog in front of a dog’s nose. It’s painful to watch. Funny, we both talk about someday being on a normal trip where we could splurge on the markets to our hearts content. Next trip!

So we’re taking a few days to soak in the big-city vibe, including some tasty micro-brewery ales, hot showers with real pressure, high-speed internet, and all the other trappings of civilization. From here we climb out of La Paz and continue our quest south into the “real’ Bolivia and towards the Argentine border. As always, more on that soon. Hasta la proxima.