Decompression Chamber

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It is all how I envisioned. Here I am in La Paz ensconced in my luxurious hotel bed gazing out at Illimani, the soul filled mountain that stands sentry over this city. The plan is to spend the whole day lounging and pondering as I adjust to the ridiculously high altitude of La Paz. I can already feel some of its effects. Drawing in big yawning breaths feel like a decadent exercise and mind feels delightfully foggy and compressed. It is hard to tell if the lethargy I am feeling is from the altitude, the overnight flight I have just taken, or if it is just the continuation of my normal state of being.

I have been drinking a lot of mate de coca, which you can probably guess is tea made from coca leaves. It is actually pretty nice. From what I have been reading crime against tourists is on the rise, but I was able to make my run to the supermercado, no problem. So there is that. Now I am awash in ham and cheese sandwich fixings, which is of course a staple of any Tommy No Papers journey.

And what a journey it was arriving into La Paz city this morning. After having the uniquely American privilege of paying $160 for a visa, seriously no other nationality has to pay, I hopped into a taxi and was off ready to go. The air was cool with a dusky earthy feel to it. We drove through the local neighborhoods of El Alto where the indigenous inhabitants were getting everything ready for another days work. Native faces, long black hair, bowler hats. It was like a post card on every corner. We wound along the canyon edge and then there it all was Illimani, the surrounding Andean mountain ranges, and the cityscape sprawling on the hillsides spilling down into the city center in the sunken valley below. I do not know what this trip will bring, but it was in that moment that it was officially under way.

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Photos

La Paz
The view from my own private decompression chamber.