That night's sleep was one of the best I had experienced on the road.Thankfully there was no repetition of the icy early morning wake up but still it was chilly enough for me to urge the sun on as it rose directly over Mt Illimani.I took the fly off my tent and let the suns rays warm me as I sat inside drinking huge amounts of hot chocolate.There was no rush to get going as I had only 40k(25miles) to ride into La Paz and so I took my time packing up and hit the road mid morning for the downhill run into Bolivias largest city.
For the fist time in weeks I had the pleasure of spending the majority of my time sitting up and coasting as I decsended into El Alto.This is quite a depressing place as it is growing so fast that the infrastructure can't keep up with the amount of homes being built.The country folk of Bolivia are flocking to this area in great numbers,all hoping to be able to have a better life in La Paz, away from the poverty stricken farmlands of this poor country.The end result is a characterless shamble of dwellings just bursting at the seams with no real sense of planning at all.The sheer scale of people living here stuck me as I rode through El Alto proper just before the massive descent into La Paz.There was chaos everywhere.Thousands of people were all in a mad rush to go somewhere and the huge fleet of mini busses charged with delivering them there made my life hell as I tried to negotiate the main highway into town.I thought that there must have been some huge demonstration going on but soon found that this was just the normal Sunday morning market crowd heading off to do some shopping.
The city of La Paz is situated in a huge bowl some 500 vertical meters below El Alto and I can't begin to describe the truly incredible sight that was before me as I crested the final rise and started the long scary downhill into town.The city center of La Paz is at the very bottom of the valley which is in turn filled from bottom to top with old clay brick nieghbourhoods ranging from wealthy to poor as you rise toward the sky.The collection of skyscrapers that are collected in a group on the valley floor told me that I was indeed entering a major city. Once the 10k(6mile)descent was negotiated the western food outlets and chain stores confimed to me that there was indeed two Bolivias, the poor country Bolivia that I had seen during the last week or so and the capitalist mecca that is the nations commercial capital.
It took some time to find my hostel and after unpacking and showering I was taken hostage by a couple of market frenzied girls who dragged me back up to El Alto and into the throng that I had ridden through a couple of hours earlier.This market is only open a couple of days a week and it is about the biggest one I have ever seen.There was everything imaginable for sale.The usual clothes,jewelery,fake colognes,food and drink were on offer as were some more unusual items.I've never before seen a broken fan belt store or one that sells car doors before but they were just two of the weird market store we saw.I hung around one stall for a while as there were cheerleading outfits for sale and I REALLY wanted to see the customers who wanted to shop there.No joy for me though,all the potential Bolivian cheerleaders must have been out of town that day.My main interest was looking at the view of La Paz way below us and as the markets are perched on the lip of the bowl above the city the sight was amazing.The bright blue sky and snow covered Mt Illimani dominating the far end of the valley just added to the days spectacle.
With about all the marketing I could handle I convinced the girls that it was coffee time and we headed down to the city center and into a really cool western style coffee house.This place would fit in anywhere in the world and my short time there was just the beginning of my exposure to the expat life that abounds in La Paz.Like many far-flung cities of the world La Paz has it´s share of foriegn nationals living amoung the local chaos that only a third world capital can provide.I have found this place very similar in that respect to the Hong Kong of my childhood.To those of you who don´t know me so well I was born and raised in that wonderful British colony during a time when Brittannia did indeed still rule the waves and the Union Jack flew proudly over the last bastion of English imperialism.In those heady days during the sixties and seventies obscene displays of wealth and social staus were on display throughout the colony in the form of private golf,tennis,equestrian,cricket,social and country clubs.Expat corporate executives mingled with the wealthy local elite while thier guilded offspring ran amok in the countless English pubs,restaurants and discos that happily welcomed the mostly underage throng with open arms and bulging cash registers.
La Paz is no different and I have already seen many private sports and social clubs not so discreetly hidden behind high walls designed to keep the unwashed masses at bay.The only locals allowed are the elite Bolivian upper class,rich expats and the staff whose primary function is to make the club members feel very special about themselves.The countless western style eateries and pubs dotted around the city have the same function.While catering to a slightly less affluent section of the foriegn presence they too have to suffer the same idignity of watching even the poorest of westerners(the dreaded backpacker)spend more money on one meal than the average Bolivian earns in a week.
I found myself guilty of frequenting one such coffee shop and really felt like I could have been back in Hong Kong as the only people who ate there were the foriegn backpackers searching for some western food and a few select locals,most of whom seemed to be friends of the cafes' owners.I'm not sure if it was the excellent food(super cheap too) or the endless '70s disco music that played in the background but I ended up going there for lunch nearly every day.One cool thing was that as I sat at my favourite table I ended up meeting up with so many people that I had seen in Argentina and southern Bolivia earlier during my trip.The backpacker trail in Sth America is now well and truly established and the winter months mean it's time to go to Bolivia and Peru.It's only a matter of time before paths cross again.
The main reason I had decided to spend so much time in La Paz was to settle for a while in one place and do some serious riding.I had done some research on the mountain bike community in La Paz before I left Australia and found that there was a huge amount of mountain bike tours available.The adventure tour industry is growing rapidly and there are several tour operators conducting all kinds of M.T.B experiences around La Paz.Without a doubt the pick of the bunch is a company called Gravity Assisted Tours,a company owned and operated by a mad keen Kiwi mountain biker who came to Bolivia eight years ago looking for adventure and ended up creating what is, without a doubt, one of the finest mountain bike adventure companys' in the world.
I had contacted the owner(Alistair)from Australia earlier in the year and told him of my planned trip and that I was looking at helping organise a tour for a friend in Oz back who was planning a two week trip with some friends in October.I was to be on a mission to find out all I could about his company and what La Paz had to offer in order to make my frinds arrival in Bolivia as easy as possible.Alistair could not have been more welcoming.Upon settling into La Paz (he is a part owner of my hostel)I was invited over to "Gravity House" and met up with him and a few of his giudes.He seemed more interested in making sure that I was comfortable in his hostel and planning stuff for me to do than anything to do with selling his tours.I liked him immediately and felt sure we would become firends.A tour of his office and bike workshop more than settled any doubts I might have had about the professionalism of his company.The huge fleet of high end Kona bikes being worked on by a team of dedicated moutainbike-mad mechanics only supported the image portrayed in the "Gravity"office I had seen downtown earlier in the day.
With my contacts sorted I set about making La Paz my home for the next few weeks.The hostel I was staying was the nicest and newest in town .It is a renovated hotel and is a partnership between Alistair and the owner of the Saya Brewery which produces it's boutique beers in the basement of the building.Although it is still undergoing major renovations and is really,really cold all the time it was very comfortable and the staff made me feel very welcome.Over the next couple of weeks I met loads of really cool travellers and even bumped into many backpackers that I had seen during the first couple of months of my trip.For me,it was nice to be hanging around mainly English speaking people after spending time on the road in contact with only the local Bolivians.I missed being able to have easy conversations with people who were from the same culture as myself.Maybe I was beginning to find life in Sth America wearing but I was determined to make the most of my time in La Paz.
For the first few days I spent most of my time between wandering the insanely busy streets and relaxing in various coffee shops around town.It seems like the whole city is one big market place and is just alive with the locals trying to eek out a living selling everything imaginable in thier little street stalls.Each area seems to have its own theme.The is the Black Market where you can pick up al d.v.ds' and electronics,the Witches Market where all kinds of local potions,herbs and assorted voodoo items are found.This place was weird and although I'm not one to be surprised by much,the Llama feotus' that were for sale did kind of put me off.Seems they place these little treasures in the foundations of thier new homes as a guarantee of good fortune.There are flower markets,fruit markets,clothes markets,book markets,toiletries markets but my favourite one to avoid walking through was the meat markets(I'm not talking night clubs here folks).The various cuts of meat on display in the most unsanitary conditions made my stomach turn and I was thankful the altitude had dulled my appetite.
My nights were usually quiet affairs,watching movies at the hostel.I'm not one to hang out in bars anymore and I'm getting far too old to be spending time trying to join in on the other meat market in town.Give me a nice warm blanket and a movie and I'm a happy camper.I did manage to spend four straight nights watching five seasons of Sex and the City on d.v.d with five Irish girls.While all the studly young lads were busy confirming thier manliness by watching Top Gun and other assorted testosterone filled movies togther, I was snuggled up under a rug with the girls and an endless supply of snack food.Don't know about those macho boys but I know where I'd prefer to be.
After a few days of hanging out I tought it was time to get back on the bike and check out the local roads.My god what a steep learning curve that was!After spending the best part of a month above 3000meters(10,000 feet) I thought that I was used to the altitude.How wrong I was!My first ride was from the center of the city at about 3600meters to a place called Le Cumbre which is the starting piont for the most popular bike tour in South America,the "Worlds Most Dangerous Road!!"Now, the tourists get to catch a nice mini-bus to Le Cumbre with thier bikes on top and a coffee in thier hot little hands.I on the other hand thought it would be cool to ride up thier just to check it out.Little did I know what riding up to 4700meters would do to me.It's not a long ride by any means(about 25-30k)but once you leave the main street downtown the next downhill is when you turn around at the top.Off I went(stupidly on a Sunday)weaving my way through the first of two markets that I would have to negotiate that day,trying not to run over any litttle kids while avoiding becoming a hood ornament on one of the hundreds of taxis and mini buses ferrying the population around town.
An hour into the ride and I was still in the outer suburbs of La Paz and climbing steadily.I stopped every now and then to check out the view behind me and was amazed at just how high above La Paz I was climbing and marvelled at how the people in the streets around me could live at this altitude and still function.Every time I stopped it was like a huge weight was on my chest and starting again sent flashes of pain down to my legs.I figured this was caused by the fact that every time I stopped riding I also stopped my hyperventilation and so my muscles ran out of oxygen.Very strange to think that it was actually easier to keep riding slowly than it was to stand there doing nothing.
Another fourty minutes or so later and I was finally out of the city and riding alone on a deserted ,winding road that rose ever upward to the snow coverd peaks in the distance.The temperature was dropping dramatically and I knew I was going to be in trouble on the decsent when I passed the first frozen waterfall of the day.Dogs became my next issue and while the little buggers that chased me from time to time are used to charging up a hill at 4000 meters,I am not!The pain in my chest that I got from trying to out-sprint those dogs was unbelievable and I began to think of what it must be like for those mountaineers on Everest.Poor bastards!
After climbing 1100meters in two hours and twenty two minutes I reached Le Cumbre and was treated to the beatiful sight of Le Cumbre Lake and the glacier of a nearby mountain.I could see in the distance the road ahead that I knew lead down the Worlds Most Dangerous Road and eventually into the Bolivian Amazon.Believe me the thought of descending the 70 odd kilometers down to the warm town of Coroico in the jungle at 1100meters was very tempting but that ride would have to wait.I needed to get back to La Paz before the cold overwhelmed me.
The ride back to La Paz was a dangerous and painful affair.I had left it too late in the day for my ride and now the sun was setting and shadows were covering the road before me.With no direct sunlight to warm me I began to freeze.My co-ordination was rapidly diminishing and even though I had two pairs of gloves on my hand began to ache with the cold and it became hard to control my bike.The black ice that was now starting to cover parts of the road meant that I had to be on the brakes for most of the descent in order to prevent my sliding off the edge around any one of the blind corners that I had to negotiate.This just added to the pain and by the time I hit the traffic of the outer subrubs I was miserable.Luckily the valley turned into the sun and I bagan to warm up and the final part of the ride was actually pretty cool fun if not quite hair raising at times.There was no way I could do this ride during the week with the traffic at full flow.
I made it back to the hostel without incident and set about warming myself with a nice hot shower.It felt great to be warm again but the first of the side affects of my ride became evident when my nose bagan to bleed.I haven't had a bleeding nose for as long as I can remember and I figured it was from the effort at altitude earlier in the day and that it would settle down soon enough.Well the blood flow did stop but my sinuses would be coated in dried blood for the remainder of my stay in Bolivia.Not much fun and as it turned out the nose bleed was a sign of things to come in the next two weeks.Training at this altitude would soon take it's toll on my body I was just too stubborn to heed the warning signs.
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For the fist time in weeks I had the pleasure of spending the majority of my time sitting up and coasting as I decsended into El Alto.This is quite a depressing place as it is growing so fast that the infrastructure can't keep up with the amount of homes being built.The country folk of Bolivia are flocking to this area in great numbers,all hoping to be able to have a better life in La Paz, away from the poverty stricken farmlands of this poor country.The end result is a characterless shamble of dwellings just bursting at the seams with no real sense of planning at all.The sheer scale of people living here stuck me as I rode through El Alto proper just before the massive descent into La Paz.There was chaos everywhere.Thousands of people were all in a mad rush to go somewhere and the huge fleet of mini busses charged with delivering them there made my life hell as I tried to negotiate the main highway into town.I thought that there must have been some huge demonstration going on but soon found that this was just the normal Sunday morning market crowd heading off to do some shopping.
The city of La Paz is situated in a huge bowl some 500 vertical meters below El Alto and I can't begin to describe the truly incredible sight that was before me as I crested the final rise and started the long scary downhill into town.The city center of La Paz is at the very bottom of the valley which is in turn filled from bottom to top with old clay brick nieghbourhoods ranging from wealthy to poor as you rise toward the sky.The collection of skyscrapers that are collected in a group on the valley floor told me that I was indeed entering a major city. Once the 10k(6mile)descent was negotiated the western food outlets and chain stores confimed to me that there was indeed two Bolivias, the poor country Bolivia that I had seen during the last week or so and the capitalist mecca that is the nations commercial capital.
It took some time to find my hostel and after unpacking and showering I was taken hostage by a couple of market frenzied girls who dragged me back up to El Alto and into the throng that I had ridden through a couple of hours earlier.This market is only open a couple of days a week and it is about the biggest one I have ever seen.There was everything imaginable for sale.The usual clothes,jewelery,fake colognes,food and drink were on offer as were some more unusual items.I've never before seen a broken fan belt store or one that sells car doors before but they were just two of the weird market store we saw.I hung around one stall for a while as there were cheerleading outfits for sale and I REALLY wanted to see the customers who wanted to shop there.No joy for me though,all the potential Bolivian cheerleaders must have been out of town that day.My main interest was looking at the view of La Paz way below us and as the markets are perched on the lip of the bowl above the city the sight was amazing.The bright blue sky and snow covered Mt Illimani dominating the far end of the valley just added to the days spectacle.
With about all the marketing I could handle I convinced the girls that it was coffee time and we headed down to the city center and into a really cool western style coffee house.This place would fit in anywhere in the world and my short time there was just the beginning of my exposure to the expat life that abounds in La Paz.Like many far-flung cities of the world La Paz has it´s share of foriegn nationals living amoung the local chaos that only a third world capital can provide.I have found this place very similar in that respect to the Hong Kong of my childhood.To those of you who don´t know me so well I was born and raised in that wonderful British colony during a time when Brittannia did indeed still rule the waves and the Union Jack flew proudly over the last bastion of English imperialism.In those heady days during the sixties and seventies obscene displays of wealth and social staus were on display throughout the colony in the form of private golf,tennis,equestrian,cricket,social and country clubs.Expat corporate executives mingled with the wealthy local elite while thier guilded offspring ran amok in the countless English pubs,restaurants and discos that happily welcomed the mostly underage throng with open arms and bulging cash registers.
La Paz is no different and I have already seen many private sports and social clubs not so discreetly hidden behind high walls designed to keep the unwashed masses at bay.The only locals allowed are the elite Bolivian upper class,rich expats and the staff whose primary function is to make the club members feel very special about themselves.The countless western style eateries and pubs dotted around the city have the same function.While catering to a slightly less affluent section of the foriegn presence they too have to suffer the same idignity of watching even the poorest of westerners(the dreaded backpacker)spend more money on one meal than the average Bolivian earns in a week.
I found myself guilty of frequenting one such coffee shop and really felt like I could have been back in Hong Kong as the only people who ate there were the foriegn backpackers searching for some western food and a few select locals,most of whom seemed to be friends of the cafes' owners.I'm not sure if it was the excellent food(super cheap too) or the endless '70s disco music that played in the background but I ended up going there for lunch nearly every day.One cool thing was that as I sat at my favourite table I ended up meeting up with so many people that I had seen in Argentina and southern Bolivia earlier during my trip.The backpacker trail in Sth America is now well and truly established and the winter months mean it's time to go to Bolivia and Peru.It's only a matter of time before paths cross again.
The main reason I had decided to spend so much time in La Paz was to settle for a while in one place and do some serious riding.I had done some research on the mountain bike community in La Paz before I left Australia and found that there was a huge amount of mountain bike tours available.The adventure tour industry is growing rapidly and there are several tour operators conducting all kinds of M.T.B experiences around La Paz.Without a doubt the pick of the bunch is a company called Gravity Assisted Tours,a company owned and operated by a mad keen Kiwi mountain biker who came to Bolivia eight years ago looking for adventure and ended up creating what is, without a doubt, one of the finest mountain bike adventure companys' in the world.
I had contacted the owner(Alistair)from Australia earlier in the year and told him of my planned trip and that I was looking at helping organise a tour for a friend in Oz back who was planning a two week trip with some friends in October.I was to be on a mission to find out all I could about his company and what La Paz had to offer in order to make my frinds arrival in Bolivia as easy as possible.Alistair could not have been more welcoming.Upon settling into La Paz (he is a part owner of my hostel)I was invited over to "Gravity House" and met up with him and a few of his giudes.He seemed more interested in making sure that I was comfortable in his hostel and planning stuff for me to do than anything to do with selling his tours.I liked him immediately and felt sure we would become firends.A tour of his office and bike workshop more than settled any doubts I might have had about the professionalism of his company.The huge fleet of high end Kona bikes being worked on by a team of dedicated moutainbike-mad mechanics only supported the image portrayed in the "Gravity"office I had seen downtown earlier in the day.
With my contacts sorted I set about making La Paz my home for the next few weeks.The hostel I was staying was the nicest and newest in town .It is a renovated hotel and is a partnership between Alistair and the owner of the Saya Brewery which produces it's boutique beers in the basement of the building.Although it is still undergoing major renovations and is really,really cold all the time it was very comfortable and the staff made me feel very welcome.Over the next couple of weeks I met loads of really cool travellers and even bumped into many backpackers that I had seen during the first couple of months of my trip.For me,it was nice to be hanging around mainly English speaking people after spending time on the road in contact with only the local Bolivians.I missed being able to have easy conversations with people who were from the same culture as myself.Maybe I was beginning to find life in Sth America wearing but I was determined to make the most of my time in La Paz.
For the first few days I spent most of my time between wandering the insanely busy streets and relaxing in various coffee shops around town.It seems like the whole city is one big market place and is just alive with the locals trying to eek out a living selling everything imaginable in thier little street stalls.Each area seems to have its own theme.The is the Black Market where you can pick up al d.v.ds' and electronics,the Witches Market where all kinds of local potions,herbs and assorted voodoo items are found.This place was weird and although I'm not one to be surprised by much,the Llama feotus' that were for sale did kind of put me off.Seems they place these little treasures in the foundations of thier new homes as a guarantee of good fortune.There are flower markets,fruit markets,clothes markets,book markets,toiletries markets but my favourite one to avoid walking through was the meat markets(I'm not talking night clubs here folks).The various cuts of meat on display in the most unsanitary conditions made my stomach turn and I was thankful the altitude had dulled my appetite.
My nights were usually quiet affairs,watching movies at the hostel.I'm not one to hang out in bars anymore and I'm getting far too old to be spending time trying to join in on the other meat market in town.Give me a nice warm blanket and a movie and I'm a happy camper.I did manage to spend four straight nights watching five seasons of Sex and the City on d.v.d with five Irish girls.While all the studly young lads were busy confirming thier manliness by watching Top Gun and other assorted testosterone filled movies togther, I was snuggled up under a rug with the girls and an endless supply of snack food.Don't know about those macho boys but I know where I'd prefer to be.
After a few days of hanging out I tought it was time to get back on the bike and check out the local roads.My god what a steep learning curve that was!After spending the best part of a month above 3000meters(10,000 feet) I thought that I was used to the altitude.How wrong I was!My first ride was from the center of the city at about 3600meters to a place called Le Cumbre which is the starting piont for the most popular bike tour in South America,the "Worlds Most Dangerous Road!!"Now, the tourists get to catch a nice mini-bus to Le Cumbre with thier bikes on top and a coffee in thier hot little hands.I on the other hand thought it would be cool to ride up thier just to check it out.Little did I know what riding up to 4700meters would do to me.It's not a long ride by any means(about 25-30k)but once you leave the main street downtown the next downhill is when you turn around at the top.Off I went(stupidly on a Sunday)weaving my way through the first of two markets that I would have to negotiate that day,trying not to run over any litttle kids while avoiding becoming a hood ornament on one of the hundreds of taxis and mini buses ferrying the population around town.
An hour into the ride and I was still in the outer suburbs of La Paz and climbing steadily.I stopped every now and then to check out the view behind me and was amazed at just how high above La Paz I was climbing and marvelled at how the people in the streets around me could live at this altitude and still function.Every time I stopped it was like a huge weight was on my chest and starting again sent flashes of pain down to my legs.I figured this was caused by the fact that every time I stopped riding I also stopped my hyperventilation and so my muscles ran out of oxygen.Very strange to think that it was actually easier to keep riding slowly than it was to stand there doing nothing.
Another fourty minutes or so later and I was finally out of the city and riding alone on a deserted ,winding road that rose ever upward to the snow coverd peaks in the distance.The temperature was dropping dramatically and I knew I was going to be in trouble on the decsent when I passed the first frozen waterfall of the day.Dogs became my next issue and while the little buggers that chased me from time to time are used to charging up a hill at 4000 meters,I am not!The pain in my chest that I got from trying to out-sprint those dogs was unbelievable and I began to think of what it must be like for those mountaineers on Everest.Poor bastards!
After climbing 1100meters in two hours and twenty two minutes I reached Le Cumbre and was treated to the beatiful sight of Le Cumbre Lake and the glacier of a nearby mountain.I could see in the distance the road ahead that I knew lead down the Worlds Most Dangerous Road and eventually into the Bolivian Amazon.Believe me the thought of descending the 70 odd kilometers down to the warm town of Coroico in the jungle at 1100meters was very tempting but that ride would have to wait.I needed to get back to La Paz before the cold overwhelmed me.
The ride back to La Paz was a dangerous and painful affair.I had left it too late in the day for my ride and now the sun was setting and shadows were covering the road before me.With no direct sunlight to warm me I began to freeze.My co-ordination was rapidly diminishing and even though I had two pairs of gloves on my hand began to ache with the cold and it became hard to control my bike.The black ice that was now starting to cover parts of the road meant that I had to be on the brakes for most of the descent in order to prevent my sliding off the edge around any one of the blind corners that I had to negotiate.This just added to the pain and by the time I hit the traffic of the outer subrubs I was miserable.Luckily the valley turned into the sun and I bagan to warm up and the final part of the ride was actually pretty cool fun if not quite hair raising at times.There was no way I could do this ride during the week with the traffic at full flow.
I made it back to the hostel without incident and set about warming myself with a nice hot shower.It felt great to be warm again but the first of the side affects of my ride became evident when my nose bagan to bleed.I haven't had a bleeding nose for as long as I can remember and I figured it was from the effort at altitude earlier in the day and that it would settle down soon enough.Well the blood flow did stop but my sinuses would be coated in dried blood for the remainder of my stay in Bolivia.Not much fun and as it turned out the nose bleed was a sign of things to come in the next two weeks.Training at this altitude would soon take it's toll on my body I was just too stubborn to heed the warning signs.
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