Night Buses

To La Paz, Bolivia

It was still dark when we got into La Paz early this morning. I'm not sure why so many bus and train schedules get you to your destination so early. Perhaps it's a way to avoid traffic. In any event, we grabbed a taxi back to Hotel Saganarga where we stayed last week, and, for $27, claimed a small room to hole up in until our next bus -- another overnight journey, this time to Cusco, Peru.

Reorganizing our stuff, taking showers, and charging our electronics was high on the to-do list. The kids also did some homework while Meg and I got caught up on email.

Unfortunately, the Merrell water shoes I bought in Auckland and hoped would be an all purpose replacement for my worn out boots and well worn Chacos, have proven to be just a tad too small. Before our five day hike to Machu Picchu, I thought it'd be wise to pick up a cheap replacement here in La Paz, particularly since I'd seen stalls stuffed with shoes along some of the narrow walking streets.

As you walk around this part of the city, you easily see how the sales of goods is incredibly distributed. Sidewalks are a secondary (or perhaps the primary) distribution channel for all sorts of things, food in particular -- fruits, vegetables, eggs, juice, empanadas and saltenas -- but also clothes, shoes, toys and videos. One stall we saw even specialized in diapers. Unlike more developed countries, as long as you have some particular item to sell, it seems you can simply claim a spot on the sidewalk and try your luck.

Here in La Paz, it is often women, and in particular, the indigenous Chola women with their distinctive, tiny black bowler hats, that sit on stools, stairs or the actual sidewalk selling their wares. The story goes that years ago a shipment of undersized hats were delivered from overseas. Although they serve no purpose in terms of blocking the sun, they apparently struck the fancy of the Chola women and even today are quite common.

In any event, my shoe shopping did not go as I had hoped. First of all, the prices, surprisingly, were not much less than back home. Second of all, the size selection was limited to whatever happened to be on display. It became more a matter of finding a shoe on the shelf that fit than selecting a shoe I actually wanted.  What's more, the odd ambivalence of those selling the shoes made me decide to try my luck tomorrow in Cusco.

The ride out of town was slow as we climbed up to El Alto and finally out into the countryside and past Lake Titicaca. Had we had more time, we would have stopped there and visited the floating reed villages in the middle of the lake. Titicaca is famously heralded as the highest navigable lake in the world.

Around 9:00 p.m. we reached the border and waited in the normal immigration lines, first leaving Bolivia and then walking across a dusty bridge and into Peru. As is often the case, the border town was a hub of activity, even after dark, with cargo bikes weaving through the crowds. We found a money exchange site, which wasn't difficult as nearly half the people there were offering to exchange Bolivianos for Peruvian Soles, and bought some snacks for the remainder of the trip. Adios Bolivia, hola Peru.