A garden of Eden called Coroico

La Paz is a beautiful city, but if you get this far, you'd be a fool to miss the paradise next door – Coroico – and the short journey there is at least as impressive as the destination itself...

We took a minivan from Villa Fatima in northeastern part of the centre for 25Bv per person at 5pm and didn't have particularly high expectations on Coroico. But that was about to change as soon as the spectacular and exciting, even a bit scary, 2,5 hour ride got started. The Yungas road is known as the most dangerous one in the world and it drops over an incredible 3000m in the distance of mere 60 kilometres. The amazing views start long before that though: first climbing the hills surrounding the city of La Paz, then the snow covered tops at over 4500m and freezing looking mountain lakes next to them, followed by steep cliff walls on one side of the road, pretty valleys hundreds of meters below on the other.


My mouth was open and my hands searched desperately for the camera without wanting to move my eyes away from the windows even for a second. It's a shame that photos taken through the van window at the under the circumstances extremely fast speed of 80km per hour can never tell you how it really looked like.

The journey continued literally through the clouds and even our crazy driver decided to slow down when the visibility reached zero. No, I'm exaggerating, you could definitely see the first meter in front of the van quite clearly. It's just that that isn't a lot when the road turns more than 90 degrees left and right every two minutes and there are other cars facing you behind all corners.

My least favourite, but only travelguide Lonely Planet says that what makes this road so dangerous are the drivers, not the landscape, and I have to agree. Showing any respect for speed limits would help a lot, specially since unlikely most of the roads in Bolivia, this one is actually kept in excellent condition. But when the driver reluctantly only slows down to 50 km/h when the speed limit is 10 km/h at the worst curves, you really wish there were seat belts available. Especially since sliding one meter of the road would mean a fall of about 600 metres, and a few more crosses and fake flowers at the side of the road.


We got to Coroico soon after the sun set and couldn't be bothered to start searching for anything special for the night, so we settled for Hostal 1866 right next to the main square. The next morning it was time to find a REAL accommodation and to take a taxi to a recommended Sol y luna resort. Luckily all their rooms were taken and they had only cabins available – a choice that we wouldn't have made otherwise. For 200Bv per night we got our own personal paradise; a pretty little cottage with its own kitchen, balcony and garden. The other huts weren't far away but the garden, or tropical jungle actually, around our cottage provided full cover from all eyes and walking home across the yard naked after a steamy hot shower in our exotic looking, spa style outdoor bathroom was pretty cool.


We took a long bath in the special heated outdoor pool (70Bv, no time limit), and did some bird watching at the same time as different types of exotic birds dropped by on the trees above us. The views were amazing also from other pool areas spread around the resort, but the water way too cold for taking a dip. After for what felt like ages we also got to do our own cooking and buying fresh vegetables at the market was totally worth the 20 minute hike down into the town and back. Our pasta, omelette and luxurious salads were all yummy and the fresh fruit breakfasts on the balcony almost fairytale-like, watching the clouds flow by in front of the impressive line of mountains ahead.


Leaving the Sol y luna after only three days and two nights in its relaxing atmosphere didn't feel right but could not be avoided – our 30 day tourist visa was about to expire and we needed to get an extension in La Paz or pay a big fine when leaving the country. We took off early expecting to see buses and minivans going to the capital every half an hour and making it to the city in early afternoon, but at the bus terminal we were in for a surprise; due to lack of passengers the minivans weren't leaving La Paz like normally and therefore there was no transport to be found to the other direction either and all the buses leaving every two hours were sold out. Luckily we managed to find a driver who's van had a broken damper that needed to get fixed in La Paz and we shared ride with a dutch couple paying 125 Bv instead of 50 Bv to not to risk missing immigration offices opening hours and getting our extensions on the right day.


We were again in La Paz, this time waiting for Daniel, our CS friend from Stockholm to get to the city and spend our days walking on markets and nights in Loki hostel and Hotel Republica eating cakes (this one 18 Bv, any big birthday cake for 40 Bv) and fighting with bad wifi. Our last night at Adventure Brew hostel was cold and breakfast pancakes not worth mentioning but the showers were great and internet connection actually working, not just a not-joke, so it gets our recommendations. Meeting Daniel and his local friends for dinner was great even though the food was our first and hopefully only junk food burger meal on this trip.

And now, finally my blog is up to date. We took a bus from La Paz to Puno only this morning and are now trying to get used to the Peruvian “high” prices after the incredible bargains of Bolivia.



Bolivian luxury
According to the unwritten backpacker rules in Bolivia, a report of the disguistingness scale of the toilet facilities to the other travellers in the group is a must after visiting one in a new place. After over a month in Bolivia, my whole definition of what luxury is has changed: Now it's a toilet with running water, hand soap and textile or paper towel – something which is VERY difficult to come by in Bolivia. (Loki hostal in La Paz got me almost jumping of joy.) I can't believe that only a few months ago I assumed all decent toilets to contain such luxury items.

Beautiful La Paz and a visit from hell to lake Titicaca

The 1st class bus from Uyuni to La Paz with “good heating” was the coldest one of them all so far. Warm winter clothes and a big blanket didn't help much when the windows froze and so did we soon after that. I asked the driver about the heating and he smiled and said “it's working well, right?”. No, not really. I slept probably a half an hour during the whole night and was exhausted when we got to La Paz. Okay, not eating for a few days might've added to that too.

The beauty of La Paz or in fact the beauty of its location didn't hit us that morning but as soon as we got some more sleep and climbed a bit higher it was impossible to miss. Tall buildings in the valley between mountains and smaller houses on their sides was quite a spectacular sight. Best views you get from the central park at Miraflores (3,5Bv entrance) if you can stand the crowds of children that jump everywhere around on their way to the next play spot.

We arrived to La Paz in the middle of the main tourist season and many hotels were full booked but we managed to find a beautiful room first for one night at Hotel Republica (luxurious triple room for 300Bv) and then moved to Hotel Provenzal (triple room for 180Bv) for the next 5 nights. Avoiding gringo places wasn't easy but we did our best to stay away from especially Olivers Travels bar and Sol y luna and Steakhouse restaurants that were mentioned in every guide book and brochure, which means they could charge outrageous prices from the tourist-only cliental while rougher looking sea food place and 80-style Chinese restaurant next door were filled with Bolivians and served great food at good prices. (Order one portion for two, 'cause they are huuuuuuuge.)

Our cultural activities in La Paz consisted of visiting exactly one museum – the Coca museum – which told about history, traditions and current state of coca production in Bolivia.




To me the most interesting bits of the culture are however represented by the local markets; the humongous Black market and the intriguing Witches' market, where you can get for example lama fetuses and fortune telling services, are full of things that seem unique to Bolivia.



Having a street with fruit stalls or another selling jeans and t-shirt can be found anywhere, but how about a wedding theme street, a fabric block, lawyer road and bathroom furniture alley? How and where people do their shopping or purchase services can be so different.


Whatever made me think visiting lake Titicaca, the highest lake on the planet, was simply a must I'll never know. But since Eilis wanted to go, my stomach and appetite were finally back to normal and Erik wanted to do some horse back riding and adventurous bike riding in La Paz, it seemed like a great idea to take a bus to Copacabana and spend a night on Isla del Sol, the Sunny island.
The trip to there went well, even though taking a small passanger boat cross a river while our bus floated across with another one seemed a bit unexpected and the 3 hour boat trip to the island (10Bv per person) did make me feel a bit dizzy. When we arrived at 4.30pm we climbed to long stairs up to the top to admire the views; both breathtaking activities in these highs, around 4000m above sea level.

The plan was to spend the night on the southern side of the island and get up very early the next morning to do the 3 hour hike to the north side with all the sites worth seeing and catch a return boat back at 1.30pm. Before going to bed at 8pm(!) we had checked out the inca ruins (=little piles of rock) of the southern side, had a lovely trout dinner and booked a breakfast for 7am the following day. Unfortunately we never made it to that breakfast though.

I spent the night with horrible stomach pains which even the continuous visits to the freezingly cold, slightly leaking and seatless shared bathroom didn't ease enough to let me sleep more than 15 minutes at a time. The boy working at the “hostel” (icy pink rooms with dirty sheets for 50Bv) we stayed in had told me there were four boats to Copacabana every day, so we thought we'd try to get back as soon as possible to at least get me some medication and catch the first one at 8.30am.

When we finally got to the harbour around 7.30am after climbing down the few hundred stairs, each one of them hurting my stomach more and more, we found out that there had been a slight misunderstanding; there were two boats to the island each day (8.30am and 1.30pm) and two back (10.30am and 3.30pm). So we'd only have to wait three hours on the ice cold stone seats with no bathrooms anywhere to be seen and my stomach about to explode, and we'd be on our way! I went to puke behind some buildings and tried not to cry. After trying to desperately rent a private boat for three hours and only getting outrageous rip-off offers (350Bv when the normal rate was 200Bv) we finally got on the public boat for 20Bv per person.

I didn't look forward to this trip in a tiny boat without a toilet at all and seeing how the amount of people on the same ship was going to be around 25 instead of the normal 10 hardly made me any happier. I did pretty well though and hanged my head down to feed the fish for the first time only the half way. Not that I had much to give after not drinking or eating anything in more than 12 hours. To my great luck, a minute later a big wave hit the back of the boat where I was seated soaking me completely up to my thighs. Climbing up to the top of the boat into the sun helped to dry my clothes in the icy wind and hanging onto the railings as the boat rocked dangerously every few minutes made me forget how sick I felt. The waves were too big (or the boat too overcrowded) for us to get to Copacabana harbour so minibuses picked all the passengers up in another village only a half an hour away from there.

I didn't feel one bit better in Copacabana but we both wanted to get to La Paz as soon as possible, so we took the next bus heading there (15Bv person). The journey was suppose to take 3 hours but when we got to the river where buses needed to cross by small boats, we realized it would take a lot longer. There were dozens of cars and buses queueing to the boats but none crossing over; the waves were too big and traffic chaos complete. None of the boats seemed to know who's turn it was to load on or off and everyone just tried to make sure no-one could get in front of them in the queue by that way blocking the way out from all others. After waiting in pain, thirst and increasing dizziness for 3 hours our bus was finally on the right side of the river and our journey back was ready to continue. I won't even mention the traffic chaos we encountered on arrival to La Paz, and having my first drink in more than 24 hours as we got to our hotel room at 8pm made me forget it too. A loo, plenty of Fanta and sleep was better than anything I could've imagined at that moment. Erik's activity holiday hadn't been much better than our sun get-away, and after horse riding he had spent the day in bed suffering from stomach symptoms together with a slight fever. What a sick couple, I'd say, and beautiful company for poor Eilis...

After not eating anything for over 36 hours I didn't feel too energetic the next morning, but since it was time to say goodbye to Eilis, who had been travelling with us for over a month now and become a friend on the way, we decided to go see her off at the bus terminal. You know, make sure she was really going ;)

Just as we had come back to the hotel and found a cosy spot inside the blankets, Erik's phone rang: Eilis said our immigration papers had been swapped and she was now on her way to Argentina with my papers while I had hers. Luckily her bus stopped for 30 minutes in a nearby town so we took the first cab there to get the papers swapped back and Eilis on her way to her flight from Buenos Aires.

Next two days we did nothing but rested, getting our appetite and strength back little by little. To me the turning point must have been having my first cider in 15 months – a heavenly Strongbow at Loki hostel bar. Not being able to find any real cider anywhere in Argentina, Uruguay or Brazil getting it in La Paz was both surprising and amazing. After the second one I felt like staying here for ever and ever... But then again, in Wirström's in Stockholm they have Bulmers!


p.s. All of the other travellers I've met who've been to Isla del Sol have LOVED it. So I'm sure it wasn't the island's fault our trip turned out to be nightmare, just bad luck. I bet your experience would be totally different.

Uyuni, salt flats and other shit

As soon as we hopped off the bus in Uyuni we were targeted by a half a dozen tour promoters who we turned down firmly to go search for a hotel room and make decisions later. Uyuni, located 3670m above sea level, is a town that exists for one purpose only: to accommodate the needs of the 60 000 tourists yearly visiting the world's largest salt flats, the Salar de Uyuni.



We spent the night at the hotel Mosel(?) right next to the main square (50Bv per person, 20Bv extra for a heater) had lama for dinner and booked an all inclusive three day tour in the deserts at an office recommended to us by another traveller for 550Bv (55€) per person. After some last minute gloves and woolen sock shopping we started our tour at 10am the next morning sharing a jeep with a Bolivian-Brazilian family and our guide Waldo. I wasn't too impressed to see that nearly all operators headed out at exactly the same time so that our jeep was never alone but a part of a ten jeep caravan travelling from one touristy stop to another. According to Waldo we were lucky we didn't come a month later when the number of jeeps would be around 30.



After seeing a train cemetery with English metal corpses from the 19th century near Uyuni and visiting a former salt hotel (which polluted the salt flat badly), currently functioning as a museum, we played with proportions taking pics on the salt flat.
























































We spend the first night at a hotel made of salt; hopefully a less environmentally hazardous one than the museum. Sheets in our bed were covered with hairs of the previous inhabitant but the staff claimed they had been changed. We slept in our clothes inside sleeping bags anyway so there was no need to make a big deal out of it but when I returned to our room in the morning just before we took off to see if we forgot something and saw that the beds were again made with same sheets, I couldn't help advising Waldo to pick a different hotel next time.

The second day began my personal nightmare of 4 days. First day's slight headache was nothing compared to the stomach ache, dizziness and continous nausea I got to suffer from half-laying inside our jeep while others got off to see some colourful lagoons, incredible rock formations and had lunch while I stack to my cup of Coca tea and local ecological toilet. It was clear I wasn't made for high altitudes.





Talking about toilets might not be anyone's favourite topic, but in these deserts it's actually something that should be taken seriously. The 60 000 people visiting the salt flats and the beautiful lagoons in the same region all need to go a few times a day. In the desert, where baños don't come by every two minutes, many opt to go to the nature, and too many forget what that means to the land where there's no dirt to take up this type of fertiliser no matter how organic it is. Basically, my guess is that the green lagoon used to be blue. (It didn't, but you get the idea.) And I won't even go into the hundreds of pieces of toilet paper and even a few tampons we saw left next to some big rocks where someone has been taking cover from the eyes of the rest of the tourist caravan. This is when the first outrageously sounding 5Bv (0,5€) toilet fee charged by the truly responsible ecological hotel staff will become a pleasure to pay. In so many ways.

My question to the tour operators of Uyuni all offering exactly identical tours is why none of them have started offering ecological tours where the tourism's and pollution's effects on the nature could be discussed along the way – it wouldn't cost anyone a dime but could offer them a benefit in competing against other agencies, and just perhaps even make a small difference in a few years time. (If you take a tour to the Salar, mentioning this wouldn't hurt, right...?)

The third morning in the cold desert came along as surely as they always do even though the amount of food I got in me over dinner the previous evening wasn't worth mentioning. We took off to the direction of Laguna Colorada just after 6am and no clothes nor blankets could keep us from freezing in the jeep in the -15c degrees that we were lucky to have – Waldo said it could've been -25c. We steam cleaned our shoes in geysers and Erik and Eilis skated on the (only 70% arsenic!) lake while I tried to stay on my feet for a few minutes before heading back to the jeep again.

The next stop was my absolute favourite on this tour – aguas termales – hot fountains! Getting undressed was freezing and getting dressed after the dip difficult, but in between these two it was pure bliss. I wanted to stay in this hot tub for a day or two, but for some reason they didn't let me.

Poor Eilis managed to take one of her sneakers for a mud dip just before getting back in the jeep, but it's a good thing my furry socks and Erik's flip flops look great in Irish feet too.


On the way back we crossed sceneries that looked like they were painted by Dali but my stomach didn't care and only got worse and worse making the last few hours of our journey back to Uyuni and desperate hotel hunt as we got there quite an unpleasant experience (no panties lost though). Hotel Julia (double 150 Bv) right opposite to the train station with its proper heating and cable tv with a solid stream of movies in English was the best pick for us even though city council surprised us as well as the hotel staff by organising all night lasting town birthday celebrations right next to it making good use for some ear plugs. I only needed a small burger to eat and lots of rest and toilet paper to get me through the two days we spend gathering strength in Uyuni, while Eilis and Erik got the know the town better and saw the world cup final.

On Monday 12th I finally managed to get out of bed to book seats for the most expensive night bus to La Paz (120Bv) which the company said would have both cama, fully declinable, seats and good heating. They must've waited until we got out of the office before they said ”NOT!”. (Sorry, Borat still hunts me). More about that lovely journey on the next entry.

Potosí and some non-heathly mining

We took a taxi from Sucre to the not-so-impressive La Casona hostal in Potosí, one of the world's highest cities at 4090m, ate in a local dirt cheap but good barbeque place (who know you could mix fries with rice porridge and it wouldn't taste disgusting?) and showed up on a small square just in time to become the target of a local stand-up comedian. He was pretty good and we pretended to understand and laughed at even the lines we didn't quite get.


On the next day my brave travel companions took a tour to a local mine where an average worker lasts only ten years before dying of respiratory diseases due to high exposure to noxious chemicals like asbestos and arsenic dripping off all the walls around them. I preferred to go to the dentist instead (a new filling for 8€ - YTHS prices!). My miners made it back alive and dirty and we celebrated their return by eating Italian food in a gringo place and buying warmer clothes for our next target – Uyuni.

When we tried to buy a ticket for a bus to there the next morning our hostel receptionist told us that all the seats were already taken for the day, but in the end said (probably only to compensate the fact that their pathetic laundry service had left all my black clothes more stained than they ever were before the washing) we could go see at the bus terminal anyway. And of course there were plenty of buses there to choose from going every half an hour (6h, 30Bv, 3€)!