Thursday 5th May:
We actually bump into some English folk at breakfast, but they had not stayed at the hotel, just dropped in having started the day in La Paz. Two more museums visited, one about the history of the region and the other about Thor Heyrdahl and his Ra II expedition in 1970? He had been trying to prove a connection between the Egyptian people and those of South America; he got as far as Barbados, but we met the son of the man who had originally helped Thor with the skills needed to build a boat from reeds. He posed for us by a slightly smaller replica of Ra II and then took three quid off us for three postcards. He also looked remarkably the Kallawaya that blessed our trip the previous evening.
And so into La Paz with Ivar, who was turning out to be about the best guide we have had so far. An educated man from an educated, and politically active family. He had worked for Crillon for over 15 years and had at one time been their Operations Manager, but now enjoyed life as a guide.
He told about his wife, his second wife in fact, she had been the daughter of parents who had also been politically active during the dictatorship of the 80s. The parents had been captured, tortured, and eventually given amnesty to emigrate to Sweden. As a baby Ivar's wife had been smuggled to the airport as her parents left for Sweden, and somehow managed to get aboard their aircraft and leave with them. She was 16 when her parents decided the time was politically right to return to Bolivia, against their daughter's wishes. Her parents remain traumatised by the experience to this day.
Ivar's parents wished for him to have a political career, but instead her chose the media and then into tourism. He said that there was rarely a family meal when politics was not discussed around the table. On a humorous note we got onto books and learnt that it is not natural for children in Bolivia to be brought up with books, the parents seldom read to them, not unlike Richard explained to us about children in Guatemala. Ivar said that getting a child to read is even used as a punishment, his own twelve year old son even crying when told he had to read. His own father however had brought Ivar up to cherish books and he'd learnt how to care for a book, fascinating stuff.
With the growing prosperity in Bolivia, from $150 to $500 dollars a month average wage, there is a growing middle class, and these people are buying cars, and then driving their cars out of the city, and as a consequence the road we were travelling on from Lake Titicaca was becoming increasingly congested, and so was undergoing redevelopment. Well it was mile after mile of dusty, bumpy congestion, especially as we approached the outskirts of the capital, the pictures tell their own story.
We reached the edge of the valley in which La Paz lies, at 4,100 metres, and stopped at a viewpoint to gaze at one of the most amazing views I think I have ever seen, the whole of the capital bathed in sunlight below us, and home to 2,000,000 people.
And so down into the chaos of the city, a seething mass of traffic and humanity. Bolivia has an enormous black economy, it would seem even larger than the formal economy. The roads are lined both sides by predominantly indigenous ladies selling most things imaginable,many a few that are not. In the market area the shops are also filled with all manner of smuggled goods from nut and bolts to freezers, sewing machines and furniture. Most of this comes from Asia and the brands of LG and Samsung are quite obvious. Ivar explains that at half the price of the kosher products, most La Pazenos are prepared to buy on the black market and waive any warranty.
Our room at La Casona is another dark room, and so we venture up onto the rooftop terrace to munch our packed lunch. We have a great view down the main Avienda, and it's warm in the sun, but cool in the shade.
Ivar has mentioned that later in the afternoon would be good to view the city from the top of the valley, as the sun sets, and so we organise a taxi to take us to the cable car terminus, and wait for us and take us back to the hotel, for a mere B$60 per hour. There are three cable car routes installed by an Austrian company, and they a fantastic, a great way for commuters to get comfortably and quickly into the city. Our round trip costs us the equivalent of £1.20. Unfortunately the mirador in the food hall recommended by Ivar has a largely obstructed view of the city. A large tree and one of the cable car towers prevents any chance of a spectacular panorama.
Having read the Lonely Planet warnings about the safety of La Paz at night we eat in the hotel restaurant, two courses and two drinks each for a very modest £28. It's the taxis that are the curse of the place with many unauthorised vehicles roaming the streets. Express mugging has become prevalent, although Ivar suggests that the police have clamped down, but it works like this. You get into an unauthorised taxi and then some others get in also, one pretending to be a plain clothes policeman and demands to see your passport and then demands money and PIN numbers before a ride to the nearest ATM.
We actually bump into some English folk at breakfast, but they had not stayed at the hotel, just dropped in having started the day in La Paz. Two more museums visited, one about the history of the region and the other about Thor Heyrdahl and his Ra II expedition in 1970? He had been trying to prove a connection between the Egyptian people and those of South America; he got as far as Barbados, but we met the son of the man who had originally helped Thor with the skills needed to build a boat from reeds. He posed for us by a slightly smaller replica of Ra II and then took three quid off us for three postcards. He also looked remarkably the Kallawaya that blessed our trip the previous evening.
And so into La Paz with Ivar, who was turning out to be about the best guide we have had so far. An educated man from an educated, and politically active family. He had worked for Crillon for over 15 years and had at one time been their Operations Manager, but now enjoyed life as a guide.
He told about his wife, his second wife in fact, she had been the daughter of parents who had also been politically active during the dictatorship of the 80s. The parents had been captured, tortured, and eventually given amnesty to emigrate to Sweden. As a baby Ivar's wife had been smuggled to the airport as her parents left for Sweden, and somehow managed to get aboard their aircraft and leave with them. She was 16 when her parents decided the time was politically right to return to Bolivia, against their daughter's wishes. Her parents remain traumatised by the experience to this day.
Ivar's parents wished for him to have a political career, but instead her chose the media and then into tourism. He said that there was rarely a family meal when politics was not discussed around the table. On a humorous note we got onto books and learnt that it is not natural for children in Bolivia to be brought up with books, the parents seldom read to them, not unlike Richard explained to us about children in Guatemala. Ivar said that getting a child to read is even used as a punishment, his own twelve year old son even crying when told he had to read. His own father however had brought Ivar up to cherish books and he'd learnt how to care for a book, fascinating stuff.
With the growing prosperity in Bolivia, from $150 to $500 dollars a month average wage, there is a growing middle class, and these people are buying cars, and then driving their cars out of the city, and as a consequence the road we were travelling on from Lake Titicaca was becoming increasingly congested, and so was undergoing redevelopment. Well it was mile after mile of dusty, bumpy congestion, especially as we approached the outskirts of the capital, the pictures tell their own story.
We reached the edge of the valley in which La Paz lies, at 4,100 metres, and stopped at a viewpoint to gaze at one of the most amazing views I think I have ever seen, the whole of the capital bathed in sunlight below us, and home to 2,000,000 people.
And so down into the chaos of the city, a seething mass of traffic and humanity. Bolivia has an enormous black economy, it would seem even larger than the formal economy. The roads are lined both sides by predominantly indigenous ladies selling most things imaginable,many a few that are not. In the market area the shops are also filled with all manner of smuggled goods from nut and bolts to freezers, sewing machines and furniture. Most of this comes from Asia and the brands of LG and Samsung are quite obvious. Ivar explains that at half the price of the kosher products, most La Pazenos are prepared to buy on the black market and waive any warranty.
Our room at La Casona is another dark room, and so we venture up onto the rooftop terrace to munch our packed lunch. We have a great view down the main Avienda, and it's warm in the sun, but cool in the shade.
Ivar has mentioned that later in the afternoon would be good to view the city from the top of the valley, as the sun sets, and so we organise a taxi to take us to the cable car terminus, and wait for us and take us back to the hotel, for a mere B$60 per hour. There are three cable car routes installed by an Austrian company, and they a fantastic, a great way for commuters to get comfortably and quickly into the city. Our round trip costs us the equivalent of £1.20. Unfortunately the mirador in the food hall recommended by Ivar has a largely obstructed view of the city. A large tree and one of the cable car towers prevents any chance of a spectacular panorama.
Having read the Lonely Planet warnings about the safety of La Paz at night we eat in the hotel restaurant, two courses and two drinks each for a very modest £28. It's the taxis that are the curse of the place with many unauthorised vehicles roaming the streets. Express mugging has become prevalent, although Ivar suggests that the police have clamped down, but it works like this. You get into an unauthorised taxi and then some others get in also, one pretending to be a plain clothes policeman and demands to see your passport and then demands money and PIN numbers before a ride to the nearest ATM.
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