A bit of a disaster had happened during
the night and Phil is quite in deep trouble. He wakes me at 3.30 and we fight
our distress to pack and be ready to go to the airport.
After only a few hours of sleep I feel like a monster waking through the terminal trying to keep awake and to do the right things to check us in.
After only a few hours of sleep I feel like a monster waking through the terminal trying to keep awake and to do the right things to check us in.
Finally our Lan Chile flight to La
Paz takes off and we follow the coast line for two hours in the air. Beautiful
sunrise behind the Andes, thick fog overlying the coastline. A very weak cup of
Nescafe and a tiny box of sweets have to do us for breakfast. The service on
Lan Chile is really not something you could recommend to Gourmets – or indeed
to any hungry person.
moon landscape over the Andes |
Touch down in the desert airport
of Iquique. God knows who lives here, but some folks disembark the aircraft.
After 30 min on the ground and in the fog we take off again, this time we fly up the Altaplana – one of the highest plateaus on earth. The scenery is captivating: a few snow-white mountain peaks rise amongst the dry desert, red and green colours of the soil mix with deep blue waters of lakes and only very rarely does a road cross this no-mans land.
After 30 min on the ground and in the fog we take off again, this time we fly up the Altaplana – one of the highest plateaus on earth. The scenery is captivating: a few snow-white mountain peaks rise amongst the dry desert, red and green colours of the soil mix with deep blue waters of lakes and only very rarely does a road cross this no-mans land.
Touch down at the highest airport
in the world, El Alto, La Paz at 10.40. Immigration is easy and after only
20min we are in Bolivia.
A new country for Phil and of course for me. Exciting!
We are supposed to be picked up by the ballooning contacts of Phil, but we
search in vain for signs saying ‘Allie and Phil’.
The airport is quickly
emptied and we, our heaps of luggage and some taxi drivers are the only persons
left.
What happened? We ring the number. “Si, si, coming in 15min!”. We quickly
– no gradually learn, that 15minutes Bolivian time is 1hour English time.
Finally a taxi driver – no ballooni looking jeep or landy – arrives and says
“donniton, donniton”, yes that’s probably us.
meeting with our Bolivian balloon friends |
The drive to downtown La Paz is
breath taking. The airport is situated on the plains at an altitude of
4000metres, but the town itself is perched into a deep canyon.
The road plunges
500metres down into a sea of unfinished looking brick houses, some modern high
rise buildings and a bit chaotic looking streets. The city seems to have no
end.
There are houses everywhere and even on the steepest rim of canyons and rocks.
Beyond the city rise the 6000meters high mountains. The sunshine is bright and
wonderful, around 20 degrees. But as soon as it disappears, the temperature
drops at least by 10 degrees. We are taken to our hotel called ‘The Castellon‘
near the city park. It wouldn’t have been our choice but it’s a decent clean 3
star hotel and our room has a south facing balcony.
13.00 hours. Am dead tired. But
Lourdes Gomerez and her girl friend Tanja arrive. Phil has been in touch with
them for a couple of weeks (with tons of disappearing and never arriving
emails) to set up this balloon flight for us in Bolivia.
But as it turns out,
nothing really has been arranged. They want to take us for lunch and we end up
in the southern part of town in a Lebanese (!) restaurant.
the fun park in La Paz |
They don’t fly very often due
to lack of passengers but if they fly they go out to lake Titicaca or the ruins
of Tihuanaca. We are trying to arrange things for tomorrow but it doesn’t work.
Call at 7pm!
Back to the hotel I take a stroll
around the blocks. This is definitely an Indian city with a totally different
feeling to it then Santiago. Everything is much more rustic, a bit dirty but
also exciting and interesting. Especially the Indian women. They wear these
huge round Spanish hats, wide fluffy skirts and around the back they have
strapped a piece of colourful cloth with may contain a baby, some food or God
knows what! It’s amazing.
Most of them still have their dark hair braided into
two plaits and their ears are decorated with beautiful jewellery. I end up at
the Laicacota park. Entrance fee is a few cents and there is a long queue. The
park is packed with families on their Sunday afternoon out playing, picnicking
or watching a clowns show. A great opportunity to take pictures of the people
but also of the town.
houses and people all mix into a colourful painting |
Later we have a brief meeting
with the girls only to hear that we definitely can’t fly tomorrow morning but
that they will try to set it up for the afternoon.
I had bought some Bolivian red wine and bread and that’s our dinner in the room. We are too trashed to do much more. The dilemma though is, I still can’t sleep. More then half of the night I am awake reading (I know all about the various tribes of Bolivia now!), writing diary (these lines are written at 4.30 am!) and trying to convince my brain that it desperately needs to sleep. In vain.
I had bought some Bolivian red wine and bread and that’s our dinner in the room. We are too trashed to do much more. The dilemma though is, I still can’t sleep. More then half of the night I am awake reading (I know all about the various tribes of Bolivia now!), writing diary (these lines are written at 4.30 am!) and trying to convince my brain that it desperately needs to sleep. In vain.
I
bleed intermittently all night and by the time we get up the bed is reminiscent
of the aftermath of an Iraqi suicide bombing. Hobbling to the taxi and through
check-in I feel like a war veteran, but we make it to La
Paz via the northern Chilean port of Iquique
without further incident.
Our
promised meet-and-greet party from the local balloon company does not
materialise but after a couple of calls an ancient and battered taxi carries us
down into the spectacular valley to which La
Paz city clings.
the airport |
We are by now desperate for sleep and further debilitated by the altitude – indeed there are ‘oxygen relief’ stations at the airport and hotels.
Convoluted discussions in ‘Spanglish’ ensue as we try to ensure a balloon flight in our short stay here. Allie’s pre-collapse walk, which my injury precludes, is spent taking discrete shots of Bolivian ladies in traditional dresses and hats.
Over
mate tea, supposed to combat altitude sickness, we discuss the present
left-wing and somewhat xenophobic administration of Evo Morales.
Tanya and Lourdes, both non-indigenous and in their early thirties, obviously approve of his policy of eliminating widespread corruption but are equally enthusiastic about expropriation of foreign assets in mining and energy fields.
They seem to forget the long-term effect this will surely have on essential investment inBolivia ’s
future.
Tanya and Lourdes, both non-indigenous and in their early thirties, obviously approve of his policy of eliminating widespread corruption but are equally enthusiastic about expropriation of foreign assets in mining and energy fields.
They seem to forget the long-term effect this will surely have on essential investment in
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