Fawlty Towers, Witches and Riots

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I come to learn that hostal bookings count or nothing and have to check into Fawlty Towers around the corner.

The next morning after cries in the hallway in the night, the square a the top of the street in jam packed with protestors. Song, dance, music, costume, plackards, fire crackers, burning ethergies- yes, of the old president that ran off with all the countries money to the US. If I was him theres no way I would be coming back!

Its all getting a little too raucous so off to the witches market where you can pick up any dried, frog, condor in basket, snake, llama foetus- mmm, great magical properties apparently. To justify a few secret photos, I buy 2 small statues for luck or some such. I was not expecting her to run into the back, blow a range of dusts over them and finally wrap clumps of hair around with some hushed mumblings, she bounced up to me and produced what was now 2 mucky, dirty hair covered figurines and the wonder on my face must have been apparent as she held them out to me, hands clasped, "es bein." Ok bueno.

The altitude is again killing me and combined with my new chest infection from Arequipa I am a picture of health. Not even a bite of a v. generous persons Marmite toast can help. Nor can takeout from the only Indian takeaway in La Paz owner by a couple of blokes from Doncaster. So God only knows why I thought it was a good idea to get stupid drunk the night before the Death Road.....................

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