Page 2 of saritrace Travel Blog Posts


South America » Bolivia » La Paz Department » La Paz June 13th 2014

They are everywhere in La Paz. Bowler-hatted women with wide layered skirts and yards of petticoats. A strange look. A fashion adopted from the colonists who used their own Spanish style to separate themselves from the indigenous. But the Aymara took it, and made it their own, and centuries after the Spanish left, flounced skirts (known as a pollera) and fringed shawls continue to be 'de riguer' among native women. It's a striking look. Matronly. Not at all sexy. But maybe Aymara men feel differently. All those petticoats (centros), emphasise the hips, and suggest that the women will be good child-bearers. And children are important to the Aymara; families are large, each child, it's reasoned, a source of eventual income. The look seems to be all about bulk. As many as twenty polleras and centros can ... read more

South America » Bolivia » La Paz Department » La Paz June 5th 2014

We'd been told to get there early. But the line was still long. Everyone wanted to try it. Where there's a queue in Bolivia there are vendors. Men, women and teenagers paced and hawked. Ice-cream men did a roaring trade, pushing hand-carts, and handing out cones. Ball-point pens seemed to be the hot item of the moment. 'Boligrafas, uno peseto', shouted a man holding out a display of splayed biros in his hand. Curious. The line moved forward, past road-side 'tiendas', crammed with bottles of soft-drink, sweets and toilet rolls. People ate at hamburger stands under sun umbrellas. There were chocolates on sticks and toffee apples; comic books and toy areoplanes. All the fun of the fair. La Paz had just got a new ride, a brand new cable car. This was a try-out. For free. ... read more
The line stretching in front of the old railway station
Where there's a queue, ....
there's food...

South America » Bolivia » La Paz Department » La Paz May 29th 2014

There's no way a city like La Paz should be where La Paz is. Squeezed into a gully, red-brick houses tumble down steep slopes, and seem to dangle precariously, half-way between heaven and earth. It's topsy-turvy crazy, with the poor people living on the canyon's lip at 4,000m; ('El Alto' literally means 'the high place'); the city centre about 500m lower, (referred to as 'la hoyada' or the hole, by residents of El Alto) and the richest living 500m lower still, in the desert-like environs of 'Zona Sur'. The buildings may be ugly, but the location is spectacular, and the city is a constant eye-popping joy and strangely photographic. At street level La Paz is frenetic, congested, and dirty. Roads full of traffic, horns blaring, smoke belching. Chunky, brightly painted, old Bluebird school-buses career up and ... read more
An 'El Alto' High
Social Selling
Calle Jaen


lI kept wanting to say 'beam me up Scotty'. Not because I wanted to leave but because it was all so other worldly. From the moment we left Tupiza to the moment we returned, four days later, it was just one amazing landscape after another. Totally out of this world. Tupiza is red rock country. The place where Butch and Sundance spent their last days. Deep canyons, cactus-strewn ravines, dust, and rust-orange rock that turns from red, to ochre, to bruised purple as the sun hits it. Once silver, lead, tin, antimony and bismuth were found here, and it was the home-base of Carlos Aramayo, one of Bolivia's biggest mining barons. In 1908, the lure of a payroll of half a million proved to be too great a temptation for the outlaws and they ambushed a ... read more
Llama
Spanish Ruins
Sunset Blues

South America » Bolivia » Potosí Department » Potosi April 29th 2014

Set high, amidst pock-marked mined mountains at 4,100m, Potosi has a faded, drained air. It's glory days are long gone, and while remnants of beauty remain, the flesh has clearly been picked from it's bones. Twenty-three kilometers, 30 minutes, and another world away, lies the rich fertile valley and hacienda of Cayara; the oldest country estate in the continent of South America. Titles were granted to Don Juan Pedrones – one of the original conquistadores – in 1575. Arturo, the present owner, still has them 'somewhere', along with the breast plate of Don Juan's armour. At Cayara, time has only increased the bounty of treasure, each family and generation adding to a melting pot of history and culture, until boundaries become so bent out of shape they cease to exist; countries, personal stories, and world history ... read more

South America » Bolivia » Chuquisaca Department » Sucre April 6th 2014

Two months is a long time in one place. Sucre began to feel like home. Leaving was bittersweet. We were sorry to go, but excited to move on. Ten reasons why we'll miss it.... read more

South America » Bolivia » Oruro Department » Oruro April 2nd 2014

Carnival in Sucre was a blast. Carnival in Oruro was completely over the top. For most of the year Oruro is a grim mining town with nothing much to recommend it, but a week before Lent it explodes into a frenetic fiesta of colour and music. It's the most raucous and outrageous party of all. Aida urged us to go, telling us it was 'different'. She though, was content to watch it on the TV. We dithered; wandering about the cost - hotels put up their prices five-fold - and worrying about all that water-throwing. Finally, we bit the bullet, booked a hotel and seats for the procession, and off we went. 'What time does the Entrada begin'? I asked the man in the hotel lobby on the Saturday morning. He nodded towards the street, took ... read more

South America » Bolivia » Chuquisaca Department » Sucre March 7th 2014

'The whole country is just one great big Fellini fest', said Jim in the run-up to Carnival. Sucre was awash with music and parades; dancing in the streets, folklore, traditional costumes, youths throwing balloons filled with water, kids shouldering massive water pistols, and squirting spray foam. It was just one big party. And it went on for weeks. Bands - groups sometimes of fifteen to twenty people - played guitars of varying sizes, brass and wind instruments and drums. 'Bong, bong, bang', sounds resounded around the plaza, and floated up to our apartment on the hill, a fifteen-minute walk away. More than music, this was pure joy and enthusiasm. Each band member seemed to do their own thing, dancing while they played, running around in circles, jumping up into the air; some did 'Shadows'-style kicks. Individuals, ... read more

South America » Bolivia » Chuquisaca Department » Sucre March 1st 2014

A feast for the eyes. Abundance. Vivid colour. It makes the mouth water and the stomach rumble. The amazing Mercado Central screams life and sustenance. Fruit and vegetables piled high and displayed like works of art. Huge pumpkins hacked into halves and quarters to reveal soft orange flesh. An old woman laboriously shelling fresh peas into a bowl nestled between her legs. Mini-mountains of mauve-skinned avocados. One stall selling only papaya - it looks ripe and ready to go. My mind conjures up milkshakes and fresh juices. Sliced pineapples drowning in syrup and gathering flies. My stomach recoils. Pomegranates split open, ruby-red insides reminding me strangely of lips. Grapes and tumbo, chirimoya and mango. On and on it goes. Bananas are a world apart. A special department. Bunches and bunches of yellow, green and black fingers ... read more

South America » Bolivia » Chuquisaca Department » Sucre February 27th 2014

It's like being a child. Back to square one. Frustrating and marvellous. In some ways not being able to talk to people is a blessing. You rely on other things, become better at reading body language, smile more, listen harder. Maybe it's more about understanding the other, than getting your own message across. I cannot remember the time when I could not talk, and this is like being pulled back into my babyhood, not to a quiet world, but a world of mystery and at most times total incomprehension. I'm remembering that it's possible to communicate without talking. But the effort it requires is immense. Every weekday afternoon, we walk across the Plaza Pedro de Anzares in front of La Recoleta and up the hill to Aida's house for two hours of Spanish. When I learned ... read more




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