La Paz

La Paz is a dangerous city.

But more for the liver and brain cells than anything else.

At roughly 3,700m it’s the highest capital city in the world and is impossibly situated on the side of a dramatic mountain range. Standing at the top of one of the many hills, it looks like the buildings have sprouted precariously out of the mountain. And lurking beautifully in the backdrop is the snow-capped peak of Illimani adding a mystical feeling to this topsy-turvy city.

La Paz is notorious for partying. I checked into the Wild Rover, an Irish hostel, on the recommendation of Ginger Mike. He’d warned me that I would encounter drunkenness and debauchery the likes of which I’d never seen. He was spot-on. Within half an hour I was at the bar with countless drunken gringos, some of who looked like they hadn’t slept (or stopped drinking) in years. Happy hour came and went and the night disappeared into oblivion. This first night set the tone for the rest of my time in La Paz. I found myself in a cycle of partying, sleeping into the afternoon, eating at the hostel bar, partying more. It was like living in the back room of a pub. I met some really awesome people and bonded with an infamous Yorkshire-man who was, without a doubt, the best quiz-master I’ve ever encountered. Liam also had a healthy (dis)respect for South Africans and a love for his home town of Leeds which bordered on the perverse.

I had some crazy, memorable nights. And some crazy nightst that I don’t remember at all. The Rover was an awesome party but sometimes it felt like it could have been anywhere in the world. More than once I thought I was in an O’Neils pub. Except with everyone wearing llama patterned clothing.

The few distractions to constant partying were amazing and peculiar. There were serious political protests happening on the streets and on the second day, walking back to the hostel from a rare outing, a tear gas canister rolled past my feet. I only realised what was happening when I saw people running away very fast. I ducked into a near-by shop but I still got a good snoot full of the gas. It was horrible. When I got back to the hostel it turned out a canister had been fired into the courtyard too. I reckon the Bolivian Police need a bit of target practice. The protesters were mainly disgruntled miners demanding a pay rise. Disgruntled miners with dynamite. Not letting something as trivial a city street full of people get in their way, sticks of dynamite were constantly going off. It sounded like a war zone.

One of the main attractions in La Paz is the Death Road. It’s a ridiculously dangerous road that drops roughly 3,000m over a distance of 65 kms. When it was open to traffic, an average of 200 – 300 people died every year in road accidents. So when a new and better road was built and the original closed, some genius figured it would be a good spot for mountain biking. How right that person was. Over three hours we flew down, dodging massive rocks, riding through waterfalls and generally avoiding riding off the edge into certain death. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking and it was an awesome day.

The other somewhat ‘cultural’ outing I managed was the Cholitas Wrestling. Cholita is the word for traditional Bolivian women who have a distinct dress code of patterned skirts, strange little hats and plaited pigtails. Yes that’s right, some of them wrestle too. It was like watching WWE directed by someone on acid. Men wrestling men, cholitas wrestling men, cholitas wrestling cholitas. The final bout was between a women from a looney-bin (complete with straight jacket) and a massive cholita. It got pretty intense. The cholita managed a hard-fought victory by repeatedly hitting the crazy women with a wooden crate. The Undertaker wouldn’t have stood a chance.

After a week of non-stop indulgence I needed a break. One of the main things that I came to South America for is the Amazon so I booked myself onto a boat tour up to Rurrenabaque. The boat travels along the River Beni through an area which has the most biodiversity in the world. I was really looking forward to seeing something amazing and different.

Of course the boat was cancelled and I ended up staying three extra days waiting for them to reschedule. And of course I carried on partying. Eventually, I couldn’t handle anymore and booked a flight to Rurrenabaque. My liver cheered with joy and I finally bid farewell to the circus that is La Paz.

Check out the photos here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150195498651890.307780.514871889&l=2a4ec34f52