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I was a bit wary about going to La Paz, despite the white flag the name of this city appeared to be waving at me. It seemed that I was setting myself up for an extra concentrated shot of all the usual Bolivian concerns-food, altitude, theft and dodgy taxi drivers. But it is Bolivia´s capital, and it is a necassary stop-over on the way to Peru, and hence I knew that I couldn´t leave Bolivia without giving it a shot, so one more overnight bus ride later I found myself emerging from my cosy sleeping bag at dawn to a see thousands of lights twinkling up the mountains around me. It was one of those entrancing ´oh it´s so pretty´ moments that come when you´re still half dazed from the travelling and trying to uncramp your neck to look at a new place for the first time.

Arriving before 7am to a ´party hostel´ is also not a great way to allow yourself to freshen up after a long journey, and I quickly realised that trying to unpack my stuff in a 6 bed dorm full of hangovers with their stuff sprawled everywhere probably wouldn´t go down too well. So riding the enthusiasm of arriving in a new place I went for an early morning stroll, and I think that that was what sold La Paz to me. Despite all reputations, the sight of the early morning sun hitting the terracotta houses stretched up and around the surrounding mountains really was gorgeous, not to mention the view of the imposing snow capped peak of Illimani mountain watching over the city.

The city itself didn´t need a lot of days to take in. The biggest attraction here is the touristy area known as ¨the witches market¨, where you can by any number of souvenirs (authentic or otherwise) or for something a little more unusual perhaps a llama foetus may take your fancy. Half the fun was walking around trying not to get runover by crazed motorists on multilane roadways and maintaining the energy to puff your way up the steep streets that rise either side of the central valley. A quick lesson in La Paz is don´t hesitate to blame anything and everything on the altitude. Feeling unfit? Couldn´t be the weeks of sitting in buses, must be the altitude. Feeling tired? Not the 3 hours sleep from staying up too late, must be the altitude. A little hungover? Didn´t have that much to drink, must be the altitude. And so it goes....

Also entertaining are the items for sale in some of the street stalls on the main drags, enough to make you wonder how on earth they make any money and how many people make such purchases walking to work in the morning. Some more bizarre examples included the stall of only safety pins, the seemingly 100 year old lady selling screwdrivers, and the man with a whole stand of padlocks, any and every size you could think of. But one great thing I did find for sale in La Paz was a proper, frothy coffee. Oh how I miss my lattes. The Italians might have brought pasta, pizza and icecream to Latin America, but they must have forgotten to teach them about coffee!

So from La Paz I moved onto Copacabana, or perhaps more recognisable as Lake Titicaca (supposedly the world´s highest navigable lake), of which I will tell you about next time. At present I am in Cuzco about to trek up to Maccu Pichu (and yes I will look up how to actually spell that at some point!). Back again soon amigos, hope you´re all well!