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Published: July 16th 2010
The journey into La Paz was more interesting than most we had recently been on. For a start, being squished onto the back seat of the bus made for 5 people when there were already 3 adults and a child present was a challenge - manageable, but cramped. Next came the wonderful views of the lake from varying angles, but with some questionable detours off of the road onto rather sloping, gravel tracks to avoid minor roadworks. Lastly, there was the fun boat ride. I say boat: barge would be more accurate.
We pulled up at the river where a series of large-ish barges stood waiting for their vehicular cargo. Most people got off of the bus (we followed to start with) but others stayed while it drove onto the 'ferry'. As the people from our bus had disappeared, we were unsure where to go so we ran to catch the bus and boarded it once it was about to depart. The driver said something in an irritated tone to us in Spanish (probably 'make your bloody mind up') then we were off on a rather nerve-racking 15min journey across the river by motorised floating barge! To be honest, it
did seem very stable, but the disembarkation was a little scary - a good few inched between the edge of the barge and the jetty...and a big bump!
Safely on land again, we completed our journey into the capital, passing a few dusty towns before hitting the sprawling out-skits. However, once past these (on the flat land) we were treated to a grand view of the main city, filling the tops, sides and bottom of a huge gulf between mountains with snow covered mount Illamani keeping guard over one end. La Paz is the highest national capital in the world and the city is spread over a varying altitude of between 3100m and 4050m - quite impressive, but very hilly!
The bus wound its way down into the valley (at one point taking a rather narrow, cliff-hugging 'road' - not convinced it was an official route) past many rough, red brick houses and unlimited internet and phone outlets and taking hairpin bends confidently (read fast). We were quite thankful to arrive at the cemetery district (how suitable, considering the ride) where our journey ended, from which we then got a small minibus into the centre, near where we
were planning to stay. This in itself was entertaining as, once we had managed to squeeze our bags into the limited space (with me almost falling into the van as it tried to speed away) we were brought to a near stand still on a frequent basis by the manic traffic that attempted to push past pedestrians mooching around at the many stalls lining the streets. A long and slow ride...
Eventually we alighted at the bottom of a steep-ish hill that we had to climb up to connect with an adjoining street - very tiring with heavy bags and being at the highest altitude so far in S.A.! Our hostel - Cactus - is on the edge of what is known as the 'Witches Market' (something I did not realise until after check in, but became very obvious thereafter) a place where you can buy all manner of items to protect yourselves and your home, perform rituals or purchase potions. I did wonder why many stalls were selling dried llama foetuses - apparently given to the owner of a new home to place under their front step for good luck! With such strange sights it was good to
get inside our hostel and into a large (but dated) room and relax for a bit!
That evening we had a bit of a wander round, stopping at the Plaza de San Francisco with its huge cathedral and discovering an indoor market made up of individual metal kiosks with most things from food to souvenirs for sale. It was a bustling and noisy experience! We indulged in a dinner of burger an chips from a local chain before retiring to our rather comfy bed for the night.
Over the next two days we explored a few areas of the city. The Sunday proved to be very lively, with the Plaza Pedro D Morillo being host to some type of military parade, complete with marching band! We very much enjoyed sitting in the greenery filled square surrounded by the colonial government building and cathedral listening to and watching such a spectacle. Further down the main road we encountered more celebrations, with a street being closed to the traffic in order for stalls, stages and huge inflatables to occupy the space. We had no idea why all these things were present, but the atmosphere was vibrant and full of fun
- a great introduction to a new city.
Up and down the many cobbled streets we went (toning our muscles up), with the next day containing a walk round the 'black market'. Despite its name, it is not illegal (on the main part - this is S.A. after all) and is really just a large collection of streets holding stalls selling EVERYTHING you could possibly want. Our main aim, apart from to explore the area, was to find a replacement backpack for our filched one: mission complete! It was fun watching people haggle over items and I don't think I have ever seen so many sets of headphones or toilet seats in one place!
We spent some time hunting for souvenirs in the many shops lining the neighbouring roads near our hostel and then booked in to take part in a unique experience the following day: cycle 'The World's Most Dangerous Road'. This tour is offered by many companies (tour agents are abundant) but we chose to go with Vertigo Biking as it had been mentioned favourably in a few blogs and happened to be almost next door to our hostel, so we could see it was a
safe outfit.
The road itself is an old, mostly downhill section of the main road that linked La Paz to Rurrenabaque, a town to the north. It is famous as it is not only narrow (3m in most places) and clings to the side of the mountains with huge drops over the other side, but due to landslides and inconsiderate driving, many hundreds of people a year were killed on the road: it only has a few passing places and many hairpin bends. It has only been in the last 4 years that a new section of better built (wider!) road has replaced this section of 'Death Road', leaving it mainly free for biking groups to appreciate the spectacular views!
Our day started at 8am in the office were we thought the other 19 people in our group would be joining us, but it turned out that all the other were being picked up from their hotels. Therefore, after the 3 minibuses had been loaded with bikes (proper suspension and brakes) we set off, taking 1 hour to complete our section of the collection - the traffic and one-way streets are mad!
As we journeyed up through
the city, climbing steadily as we went, the habitations began to look much poorer and then stopped altogether as we entered a valley with great mountain views. It was another hour's ride outside of the city to our starting point, after passing a check point or two along the way. The driver pulled the van over next to a small lake and we clambered out of the vehicle and quickly wishing we were back inside: it was freezing! Quickly donning our waterproofs (we were not going to bring them!) we lined up to listen to our main guide explain the itinerary for the day.
We were at the highest point of the route (around 4700m - explained the cold) and from here we would travel down a section of paved road, getting used to the bikes before embarking on the gravel and dust composition of the 'Death Road'. At all times he made it clear that this was a tour - not a race - and that we should all go at our own speed, for safety sake. This pleased me greatly, having not been on a bike for a while and never being THAT confident at 'off-roading'. It
was also nice to see that there were several people there with pretty much NO biking experience, other then the fact they could ride. We were then given our safety gear which consisted of knee/shin pads, elbow/forearm pads, a florescent shirt, black water-resistant trousers and a huge helmet! Very sexy. After a brief explanation about braking and use of the bikes we had 10mins 'play around' - then we were off!
The first section was relatively easy - it really was just about becoming accustomed to the (powerful) brakes and being comfortable. There were a few vehicles on this stretch of road - still the main one in use - but the drivers were obviously used to teams of cyclists so just went round us. We only stopped a couple of times for photos, and the rest of the time we were stretched out in a long line, following the guide (with another two in the centre and one at the end) and gradually feeling more confident to take bends with a little more speed!
The scenery was very nice - quite barren in places as it was rocky and cold, but you could see that as the
road descended, the greenery increased and the mountains began to tower over you - great! We avoided the smelly, dirty tunnel a little further along by adopting a gravel path that ran along the outside of the mountain and then it was another short section of road before our first official stop. Here we purchased our tickets for entrance to the area and were given a snack before loading our bikes back on the vans so we could be driven to the start of the 'dangerous' part, avoiding having to cycle uphill :-)
The three vans left the main road 25mins later, driving a short distance to a lay-by where we were given further safety instructions and had another group photo taken before being allowed to re-mount our trusty bikes. From here it was all gravel and some larger rocks, making it imperative to watch very carefully where you steered. Instantly the scene opened up to you: a long, winding path that was cut into the side of the mountain with no barriers to aid those who lose concentration or take the corners too fast. Daunting, but exhilarating at the same time.
We really were not going that
fast - there were so many of us that space had to be left between people - and we were able to stay on the side closest to the cliff-face so an element of relief was granted, however small. Again, we stopped a few times to take amusing photos on some of the most perilous corners, and the guides even filmed a few minutes of us whizzing past them! The vans dutifully followed us at a safe distance, carrying our bags.
On the most sheer of corners a guide would stand still and indicate for us to slow right down, otherwise we would have had no clue and ended us like a few other cyclists who had been a little over-confident and unfortunately lost their lives as a a result. It amazed me even further how this could ever have been a main road - the majority of it was only just wide enough for a coach to go along, never mind for two vehicles to pass. There were slightly wider sections where this could be achieved, but not as many as I would like! The 'balcony', as the sheer drop along the edge of the road is affectionately
termed, is very steep and often over a hundred metres in height from the ground, making any fall - be it from a bike or bus - instantly fatal. No wonder hundreds of people died every year on the road.
After an hour of cycling we found another wide section and paused for another snack - make-yourself cheese sarnies and crisps - during which the 'mechanic' of the guides checked each and every bike for the onward journey - very reassuring. We also had a good view of part of the 'new road' which clung to an opposite mountain - wider and with nice bridges fording gaps.
From here, the guide said, we would be going faster (though still at our own pace) and instead of riding on the right - next to the cliff - we would be on the left near the drop. The reasoning for this is that anyone coming around the corner will also be on their left an we would be able to see more as we had the wider turning area. Not hugely happy about his but looking forward to the next section, we set off again. Warren as always was near
the front and I was about halfway in the group (usually nearer the front but wanting not to go too much faster).
All was going well for about 15mins: until I fell of my bike. I was going along well enough - keeping up with everyone and feeling good about the ride, but suddenly my back tyre began to skid and I fell quite heavily on my side, sliding for a couple of metres along the gravel road. Grateful that I was in the middle of the path and not near an edge or a corner, I lay there for a second with a head that felt too heavy to lift. A couple of other riders stopped to see if I was alright and, as I wobbly stood up a guide came along and insisted on checking that the arm on which I fell was unhurt, then re-checked the bike. Despite my left calf and hand hurting and having a bit of a sore head, the safety gear had protected me well (the trousers had a tear in) and I was eager to get back on and continue to the next rest stop some 30mins away. The guide asked
if I wanted to ride in the support van instead - hell no! The next bit was tiring - brakes are hard to press with a sore hand - but I made it well enough, quite proud that I had pushed on.
On reaching the rest stop Warren was waiting and took a photo of me arriving - totally oblivious of my fall! We had a bit of a laugh - it could only happen to me - and went and sat on the edge of the cliff, drinking a bottle of water and posing for another group shot, the town of Choirico sitting on the hill near us. The last part of our trip - we were told - was only about 20mins long an we had the option of attempting a very narrow steep section, if we should so wish.
Wishing each other good luck, Warren and I joined the throng of riders and a little way further along the road turned into a definite 'single track' - complete with ruts that made for another 'fun' experience. At a latter section, we stopped to watch a few brave riders take a small 'short cut' don the
side of the hill. This path was not only on a steep gradient and only half a metre wide, but consisted of sharp zig-zag turns making 'riding' down this section almost impossible. One of the guides stood a little way don this route and took photos of intrepid bikers - Warren as about the fifth to do it! I, on the other hand, opted for the longer road option (not wanting to tempt fate twice in one day) and was mildly amused to find that when I and the other safety conscious members reached the base of the other path, Warren's group were still making their way down! Not quite such a short cut then :-) Warren was glad he did it, but admitted it was not fun as it involved so many manouvers and waiting for others ahead of him. Never mind!
Only 10mins more and we reached our end point where the ans were waiting to take us to a small hotel where we would be given a buffet (late) lunch and swim in the pool, not to mention a nice shower to rid ourselves of the grime of the day - all included in the price.
We indulged in the latter first, surprised and grateful for the hot water, ten tucked into the food - with fried chicken (a S.A. Staple it seems) featuring on the menu. By this point we were happy just to relax so instead of taking a swim, chose to sit by the pool drinking cold beverages surrounded by the tropical plants of the garden and surrounding forest area. Very peaceful!
The journey back was quite lengthy - 3hrs - but at least we took the new road! In the dark even this seemed a little daunting, what with many winding bends and sections that had been affected by the previous rainy season's landslides: a problem the builders are yet to find a solution to. We arrived back at our hostel around 9pm and retired to our room with a bottle of good (and cheap at £2.50 a bottle) to toast having survived the 'World's Most Dangerous Road' - albeit with a couple of bruises!
The next day we collected our free T-shirt and photo CD souvenirs from the company - great mementoes and spent the remainder of the day sorting out our trip to Rurrenabaque and pampas tour. Supplies
were bought for the lengthy trip and we tried to walk off many of the aches the previous day's activity had caused. All in all, a great time was had in the city and on our rather daring adventure, but bring on the boating in the Amazon Basin!
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