Greetings from La Paz, Bolivia! I took the bus from Cochabamba to here. In doing so, the bus went from 8500 feet to probably well over 13,000 feet before descending into La Paz at 12,000 feet. It was a spectacular ride.

For starters, wonder of wonders, the road is paved! Not only that, in spots, it even boasts guard rails! It´s about a 220 mile trip. It took seven and a half hours. The road was in great shape. The reason for the average speed of 30 mph is that the angle of ascent is pretty doggone steep! It reminded me of the road on the eastern side of the Tioga Pass, winding its way steeply up, up, and up. The bus was geared way down going about 20 mph.

When we finally got up to the top, or spine, of the Andes, the road turned north and stayed on the crest for the rest of the trip. It felt like we were on top of the world.

Despite the fazct that this was a double decker very nice Mercedes bus the driver never turned on the air vents or the reading lights (they never do). Despite the altitude, the outside temperature was righteously hot. Inside the bus, the people had all the windows closed. The temperature inside the bus must have been well over 80 degrees. I had an aisle seat so I couldn´t touch the window. I was the only gringo on board. There was one nice young guy from Argentina who was the only other foreigner on board. He sat across the aisle from me and opened his window a good four inches. I thanked him profusely! Fresh air! The Argentine and I were in t-shirts. All the locals wore wool sweaters, jackets, and wool caps. I have since discovered from talking to Paceñas (people from La Paz)that they always do this, no matter how hot. The women in the bus were very unhappy with that open window. (It reminded me of old German ladies in the transit bus that cry out "Es zieht" ("there´s a draft") when anyone has the nerve to open the window.) The Argentinan was skillfully oblivious to them.

Along the way, I was surprised at the number of "houses" on both sides of the road. Despite the high elevation, there are small farms carved out of the surrounding hillsides. The land is very bare, what appeared to me to be sagebrush and rocks. The locals use the rocks to build fences. Their houses, or one room shacks, are made of large adobe blocks with tin roofs held down by large rocks. Every few hundred yards there would be a group of half a dozen cows and some one watching them.

With my ears popping like a high school girl chewing gum, we drove over some awesome passes with breathtaking views. Every one on the bus was sound asleep. Nine to 10 o´clock in the morning is not an active time for most South Americans. The only ones awake were me and the Argentinaian who were spellbound by the views.

Half the women on the bus were indigenous, wearing their colorful skirts and those strange-looking English bowler hats. The hat size is always much smaller than their head, so that the hat sits perched way up on the top of their head.

I tried to start up a conversation with the Bolivian lady next to me and failed miserably. I thought it was my poor Spanish. She then confessed to me she was suffering from altitude sickness. She had come on the overnight bus from Santa Cruz, which is practically at sea level. She took some sort of medicine but it didn´t seem to help. I felt very sorry for her. I offered some of my medications, but she wasn´t interested.

Knock on wood, I have been incredibly lucky. I got a little bit of a headache as we approached La Paz, knocked back 2 ibuprofin, and I´ve been fine. I even, foolishly, hiked from the bus station to the hotel with my heavy backpack up and down the steep streets of La Paz. I had to stop about every block and pant. More on altitude sickness in my next report!

As we neared La Paz, we overtook transit buses making their way to the city as well. They would be jammed with people. In addition, the tops of the buses are fitted with roof racks so that huge amounts of baggage, boxes, and even people can ride up there. They put wooden poles in the aisle of the bus to help hold up the roof. The best sight of the day, though, was seeing three llamas calmly kneeling on the roof of a bus, chewing their cud, and watching the world go lurching by. I haven´t the slightest idea how they get them up there or how they them back down. I wonder what kind of fare they pay?

La Paz is situated just a little bit like Reno. Imagine instead that the Washoe Valley is much, much smaller, and the snow capped mountains are in a ring around the city, and easily twice as high as the Sierras above the valley floor. That´s La Paz.

The streets were jammed with people. Half the sidewalk space is taken up with street vendors, usually indigenous women in their bowler hats, selling something. It´s warm, t-shirt weather. But the locals are all bundled up in wool. Today, I basically got my bearings. Tomorrow, I´ll start exploring the city.

Until later!