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Published: December 1st 2006
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A little asian touch
Don´t be fooled into thinking i can use them as a tool I was scared at times in Buones Aires, I was especially scared in Rio. But never did I feel particularly threatenedin any of those places. Arriving in La. Paz, after collecting our bags, and grabbing three taxis to take us to our hostel- the policeman stuck his ugly Bolivian (I’m sorry, its true) head into our cab and said “be careful”. What!? NO!! Don’t say that, we’re already scared to death permanently mister!
So with tentative everything, and hands glued to our packs, we managed to pick our first
La. Paz winner of a taxi driver, who of course, knew nothing about his city- “where, what is, sorry senorita? A hostel.. no no no entiendo”. This pattern continued the entire time we were there, on each and every lone journey and I soon found myself wishing for a Tube more than I ever could of imagined possible. Or simply a lovely Packie driver from home..
Hostel was really nice, and we dominated a dorm which was nice to be staying with friends over strangers, especially when you just don’t want to have THAT conversation... “Where r u from, where do u go,
Nights around a campfire
Forever love Brown eyed girl and Tears in Heaven.
Ryan, Christian, Abby, Bonnie, Miggel, Tahnee, Michael cotton eye, cotton eye joe”.
La. Paz was a shock, people had told me not to expect a nice city, and I wasn´t really looking for that anyway- there was more to do in La. Paz, trips that had to get done, and if I was to get sidetracked by pretty parks and nice lakes, well.. They just wouldn’t get done.
But the poverty was one that I hadn´t been particularly struck with before, and was suddenly bombarded with people selling everything imaginable and possible on every inch of spare street. There was no road, and buses honked just as they came into contact with your big toe. Street food, and my fear of street food, took on a whole new meaning as people prepared entire meals from a bunsen burner and week old plates. There was filth everywhere, and although it’s common when in South America, its still a concept that I struggle to accept and its been a huge learning point for me so far. This is how these people live, they live happily, and to them their life is most likely fulfilled. Salmonella or not..
We organized our jungle
tour, death road ride (ahh Aaron..), and looked into salt flat tours- so I guess u could say it was now time to... erm drink??
We took the hike to Oliver’s with our new found crew which had grown to accommodate three English, and ate amazing English food (I like fish now!!) and drank even better beer. Little did we know just how much of this was to come...
Here for the weekend we decided to make the most of it, saw a lot of La. Paz- especially in a desperate attempt to get to Wagamamas (I was sole driver behind this, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw this information of such amazing food), where we arrived 5minutes before they closed the doors and were forced to walk home in tears and shed a lot of misery..
We did the club scene extensively, Traffic where we sat smoking and drinking champagne, some may say we thought we were one of London’s it group’s in a dark corner with candles to set the mood....ahhh pretenses!! Ramjams, where well... it was shit I have nothing nice to say about this place. Except Miggel u can salsa.
And
Ryan move out
Respect- love the comfort kid Mongos, awesome- my definite jam baby, even if it was “HEY, BLACK EYED PEAS NIGHT” every night!!
We spent a few nights in the hostel playing sing along which was so nice, and just one of those things that makes you feel really at home, with your friends and having a moment. Ryan, Chris and Ed all played guitar. Michael played drums.. so when he heard that I had a drum mat and sticks in my bag I was forced to pull them out, and to my complete embarrassment ordered to play seven nation army- I KNOW ITS EASY OK I ONLY JUST STARTED!! This was all fun until Felix arrived.. An ex drum teacher. My god, great guy, but when your having a really nice chilled out night, and you just don’t feel like being taught how to hold drumsticks properly.. don’t push the matter ok!! I am now however, intent on getting better.. look our Wolf Mother I am coming to steal your drummer and make him my drum love husband- then we can alternate at gigs.
I finally met Ryan from Canada, Abby’s future husband, and fell in love with him just like her, I have to put the story on I promised you crazy..
Ryan was the youngest of three kids, and subsequently the naughtiest of them all- picture Denise the menace with brown curls, not blonde.
Anyway, his aunt and his mum used to make fun of him because he used to say ‘Virginia’ instead of “Vagina”. So one day his mum had all of her friends over, drinking coffee in the lounge room. She called Ryan in and said “Ryan, tell us all what a woman’s private part is”. Thinking how adorable her son was... So Ryan looked around at this room full of random women and exclaimed “CUNT”.
Ahhh it cracks me up.
Anyway, not much else happened in La. Paz.. this time around.
But I’ll be back... loose cannon is forming- I can feel it.
xox
PS. I did say all we did we go out in La. Paz.. And we were terrified to take cameras out.
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