Chaotic La Paz pulses with life at a dizzying, freezing 3650 meters/12,000 ft, its wild traffic dominated by crammed, black-smoke belching, ancient buses and tourist-robbing taxis, its buildings either half-finished brick, or steel and glass high-rises, both climbing steep, lung-busting streets crowded with indigenous women in flouncy skirts and bowler hats selling fresh orange juice and snacks, hand-woven goods and trinkets. I'd been in La Paz a couple of times before, but this time was special, for while there, March-May, 2014, I had adventures with several, fabulous TravelBloggers (TBers), witnessed colorful festivals, including Carnival, Holy Week, and May Day, and lots of protests, as well as experiencing the darker underbelly of the city in this poorest nation in the Americas. As always, I stayed in the heart of the city in a beautifully restored old
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