Getting High

 La Paz, Bolivia – Altitude: 3,600 metres to 5,400 metres

“I was gonna pull right over and stop but I was high”

BECAUSE I GOT HIGH – Afroman

Still tired from the previous day’s adventure into the Coroico Valley I reticently arose with Margaret for a decent breakfast at 8am. We had yet another full day of activity planned, and it wasn’t long before we were off negotiating the rabble of La Paz’ roadside markets and traffic on a small tour bus. The entire Cusco Crew was present for the tour with the addition of a new member, Kim. Our first port of call today was the Moon Valley in Downtown La Paz. A curious point that was brought to our attention on the journey to the Moon Valley was that the richer you were in La Paz the further down in the valley you resided. This apparently was due to the much more temperate climate that was experienced at altitudes just below that of 3,000 metres.

As we approached the Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), we did indeed drive through a very nice neighbourhood. The suburb of La Paz was more akin to that you would see at home. The houses were large and modern, and the streets were clean. Such was the prosperity of this area of La Paz that private security firms patrolled the streets. Leaving this neighbourhood we arrived at our destination.

The Moon Valley does actually resemble a lunar landscape, although in actual fact it’s the result of limestone erosion. Nonetheless it was a magnificent and desolate setting. We followed a winding path past large pinnacles of limestone, some of which were adorned with a cactus or two. There were a number of excellent vantage points that surrendered spectacular views over the eroded canyon. Halfway into our guided tour we passed shallow gorges, of which some revealed seemingly bottomless sinkholes, clearly indicating, the water’s course. The whole experience was made that much eerier by the sound of a lone pan-flute; or zampona to be precise. On the last leg of the path the zampona musician was revealed standing atop of a high ridge. The music certainly gave the whole excursion a uniquely Bolivian feel. On reaching the top of the ridge we passed the Bolivian muso, avoiding the CD sales spiel and then returned to the bus. The approach back to the bus revealed some fantastic views back to the climbing, sprawling city of La Paz, to the verge of El Alto and then beyond to the snow rounded summits of Huanya Potosi and Chacaltaya. The latter of which was our next destination.

A lone zampona in the Valle de La Luna

It must have taken at least one and a half hours to make our way back through La Paz before heading onwards to Mt Chacaltaya. The journey involved us climbing out of the La Paz valley and through the enormous shantytown of El Alto once more. The drive through El Alto proved quite interesting especially after we left the highway. The narrow streets revealed buzzing markets, some extending the full length of the street. When we finally approached the outskirts of El Alto we had a quick water stop, given that our approach to Mt Chacaltaya would see us reach an elevation of over 5,400 metres (16,200 feet). Having been at a ridiculous altitude for many days now, we needed reminding about the importance of staying hydrated at altitude. The road from El Alto to the base of the foothills of Mt Chacaltaya was a pleasant one. The views of Chacaltaya and the higher peak of Huanya Potosi were infinitely beautiful. Our guide informed us that Chacaltaya was an Aymara word that meant Cold Bridge. This was due to the fact that the original inhabitants of the area used to trudge over Chacaltaya to get to the lower and much warmer valleys beyond. As for Huanya Potosi, well that actually meant Young Noise and apparently because of the winds that go howling through its valleys. My ears stood up after hearing this little titbit of information as we were intending on visiting the Bolivian mining town of Potosi later in the tour.

With the pleasant part of the journey over, the bus soon began negotiating an extremely narrow and precarious pass to the top of Mt Chacaltaya. The winding road was equally as frightening as the Death Road. Looking out the bus window revealed a drop as sheer as it was deep; hundreds of feet in fact. This perturbed Margaret somewhat, and the guide attentively picked up a few expressions of her concern. His response was “Don’t worry! He’s done this before! He’s a good driver!” Neither Margaret nor I for that matter were reassured by that comment. Again by sheer Bolivian luck we approached the summit of Chacaltaya which was characterised by an out-of-season ski resort (the highest in the world) and a couple of shacks owned by the local university. Scattered around the college dwellings were bizarre looking domes, apparently erected to analyse the cosmic rays of the sun. Given that we were at such a high altitude the Sun’s rays were that much stronger and so these cluey Bolivian cosmologists had erected their solar analysing equipment here.

Leaving the bus our breathing rate accelerated to a virtual palpitation. Unlike yesterday’s venture to La Cumbre at a mere 4,670 metres altitude, standing just shy of 5,400 metre was immediately noticeable. Merely walking from the bus to the ski lodge café and to the other side, only 50 odd metres, proved a strenuous activity. Our guide marked out the sloping path of Chacaltaya to one of its two peaks. We set off at a pace slower than a plod. The lack of oxygen wasn’t our only bone of contention, given the snow packed ground was icy in patches resulting in a few of us slipping and sliding. Eventually we found a much sturdier path, and after an asphyxiating eternity, with your head threatening to explode, we arrived at the first peak. The sense of achievement from all of us was immense, for the altitude of the first peak was 5,430 metres. The latter figure was care of Michael’s trusty GPS. The Incredible Horst kindly informed us that he had attempted a climb of Mt Kilimanjaro a few years ago and fell short of the summit by only a few hundred metres. Kilimanjaro’s summit is over 5,800 metres. We were doubly impressed with ourselves, and I quietly added Kilimanjaro to my list of mountains to conquer.

Huanya Potosi

No rest for the intrepid of the Cusco Crew though. The views from the first peak of Chacaltaya were spectacular revealing the La Paz International Airport in the distance adjacent to El Alto, and also to the formidable presence of Mt Illamani. It also revealed the second peak of the mountain, which was the higher of the two. Having not climbed the summit, a few of us set off to achieve that milestone as well. The climb didn’t appear as bad, although I must admit I took it too fast, and by the time I did reach it, I had to sit for a good while to regain my breath. The views from this peak were for the most part similar to the first, but according to Michael’s GPS the altitude was at 5,470 metres. We had only climbed another 30 metres. Being in the climbing mood, I glanced back to the even higher peak of Huanya Potosi. Our guide had informed us that it was possible also to climb to this staggering summit, but alas we didn’t have time, so the 6,100 metre (18,300 feet) yardstick would have to wait for another day. Horst once again made short work of this latest peak, Chacaltaya, although his German-Australian compatriot Gerhard wasn’t so surefooted. He literally looked like death with a sweat on his arrival at the summit. I thought at one stage his croaking lungs would give up there and then, therefore requiring resuscitation but fortunately like Horst he was in fact a trooper and we all made it back to the rest of the group who were waiting for us in the ski lodge café.

After a deluge of water and a gorging of chocolate our bus made its way back down the winding Chacaltaya pass. The sighs of relief on reaching El Alto were more than audible. So it was back down into the La Paz valley and to our hotel by mid afternoon. With our high flying activities over for the time being we had the rest of the afternoon free. The first task for Michael, Glenn and I was to go back to the Explore Bolivia shop to acquire our Downhill Madness T-shirt, which we hadn’t received the previous day. I wanted that T-shirt damn it!

Margaret and I had a quiet afternoon, taking in a scrumptious meal at one of the two Alexander Coffee cafes in the town. That evening we met the five new members of our Tucan Group who were joining the tour to travel on to Rio with the rest of us. The five new members included; Kim Parrish who we had met a couple of nights before; Maurie Gartland, a 35 year old Melbournian who had just finished a few months charity work in Uruguay; Tom Hill and Laura Hambly a couple of friends from the UK, and finally Anne Brosnan, originally from County Kerry, Ireland but now a New Yorker with a very broad Kerry accent.

After the introductions, Dany gave us a rundown on the remainder of our itinerary to Rio and informed us that there were a couple of changes. For one, there was no overnight stay at the Salt Hotel in Uyuni, much to the chagrin of a few of us, and secondly, Dany suggested we opt out of a Curitiba train ride for another day at Iguassu Falls to experience the Argentinean side. All were in favour of the latter, and everyone soon forgot their disappointment about the Salt Hotel when we set off for dinner. Dinner was at an apparently exclusive restaurant. So exclusive in fact that it was meant to be closed and only opened care of our string-pulling tour leader Dany. Upon entering the restaurant, past a couple of haughty bouncers, it proved to be more of a bar and it was bustling with activity, the majority of which were gringos. Closed indeed! Dinner lasted a couple of hours and our Saturday night out in La Paz ended thereafter. Everyone was just too exhausted to go out. Given the day’s altitude antics Margaret’s head in particular was threatening to take flight. To bed it was and only after saying farewell to the remainder of those leaving the tour at La Paz; Graham & Judy, and Gerhard.

Our final day in La Paz was a free day, and it was one that was welcomed with open arms by Margaret and I. Give this we were up late, and paid another visit to Alexander’s for brunch. Our afternoon saw us head to the infamous Witches market of La Paz. How exactly the Witches Market differed from any other market in La Paz proved a little difficult to define precisely. Perhaps the one characterising feature of the Witches Market though was the dried llama foetuses. Yes, I haven’t gone off on one here. I’m talking genuine llama foetuses. Those Bolivian’s who still adhere to the traditional beliefs use these funky little trinkets in their homes to ward off evil spirits. No, you won’t be greeted by a petrified llama foetus on the living room mantle piece – the locals aren’t that freaky. The Bolivian’s go about their day on the off chance that they will receive a home visit from a gringo and so with every ounce of decorum, place the good-luck token at the bottom of their house – out of sight. Mind you, if a Bolivian does receive a visit from a gringo at his or her home, then this may mean it’s time for them to change the llama charm. At one of the stalls in the Witches market that did have dried llama foetuses, there were also a couple of petrified armadillos and a slither of snake skins. It was all a bit culturally challenging really but at the same time rather cool.

That afternoon, Margaret and I set off on a haggling expedition around the many markets of La Paz and purchased a number of household items. This was punctuated by a visit to the extraordinary Coca Museum. Nestled in a nook off one of the many alleyways, the museum proved extremely interesting, albeit a little tiring on the eyes. Unlike more modern museums this one required you to wander around with a thick wad of number coded fact sheets. Despite the huge amount of reading required to make the most of this museum we did glean a lot from our visit, most notably how to make cocaine. Don’t worry, I don’t intend putting the recipe herein (The Frog Juice recipe was probably sufficient). I will say though that the manufacture of cocaine involved people crushing the coca leaf into a pulp before applying a number of chemicals, one of which being hydrochloric acid, to obtain the white crystalline powder. The museum offered many interesting pieces of coca trivia but perhaps the most curious are outlined below:

Dried Llama’s Foetuses in the Witches Market

COCA TRIVIA

* The Incas were the original users of cocaine, although they didn’t abuse the substance, as is the case in Western culture. Typically the Incas would chew up to 500 coca leaves at any one time, and so nurture a saliva thickened ball of masticated coca for days on ends. The Incas had discovered this actually extracted the cocaine from the plant and so gave them the stimulation they needed to cope with altitude and their days work. The amount of cocaine extracted into their system was significant but nowhere near as potent as the powdered narcotic sold on the streets.

* When Coca-Cola was first introduced over a century ago, the drink actually contained cocaine. Indeed its initial popularity stemmed from the active stimulant being apart of the drink. As the century progressed though, and the addictive nature of cocaine became apparent, Coca-Cola was ordered to remove the narcotic. Nowadays Coca-Cola Bottlers still imports coca from Peru and Bolivia every year and use the leaves only to add to the flavour of the drink. Coca-Cola is now cocaine free, although, funnily enough, I know a number of people who appear addicted to the drink. The cocaine bi-product that is a result of Coca Cola production is apparently sold to pharmaceutical companies who use the drug in many of the anaesthetics that are used today in medicine.

* Sigmund Freud became a cocaine addict after his fascination with the anaesthetic properties of coca went just a tad overboard. Apparently at one stage in his career, Freud was advocating the use of the drug and regularly took it as a pick me up. When he did learn of the addictive potency of cocaine, it was too late – shall we say that was his one true Freudian Slip!

Our cocaine trip concluded with me buying some coca pastilles – a treat I intended reserving for the following day’s journey. Our minds burgeoning with trivia we took part in some more shopping and then as the evening arrived we met the rest of the group for a meal at – you guessed it – Alexander’s Coffee before heading to La Paz’ main cinema. Our movie of choice was “The Matrix – Reloaded”. The Bolivian cinema experience was fine and not much different from home. The only annoyance proved to be the Spanish sub-titles and only then when one of the movies characters started speaking in French. Given there would have normally been an English sub-title placed here for us gringo viewers, then we were all at a loss, apart from Dany, who annoyingly along with the rest of the local gathering erupted in laughter. After the movie it was back to the hotel to rest up given our group was due to hit the road the following day. A new group that is! We had lost a number of friends from the Cusco Crew and gained a few more here in La Paz.

It is no longer fitting then for me to continue to refer to our travel group as the Cusco Crew, as it will only lead to confusion. In recognition then of our new La Paz tour mates and the fact that we now would remain as one group until our final destination, Rio de Janeiro – I will hereby refer to our tour group as the Rio Ring. So, the Rio Ringers we were, and a new adventure awaited us all. Indeed the next destination was the ideal starting point; Salar de Uyuni – the world’s largest and highest salt lake.