There are no direct flights from the US to La Paz. I wound up with four different legs; Portland to San Francisco, to Houston, to Lima, to La Paz. At least there were no long layovers and the total time was 18 hours, landing in La Paz at 3:15 am. The airport is over 13,000 feet so the only time planes can land is in the middle of the night. The taxi ride to the hotel, $22, was all downhill and the driver ran all the red lights. The hotel Atix is a nice boutique hotel in an upscale neighborhood.
After much too little sleep Ginny (who arrived an hour before me) and I went to breakfast. We connected to the two other ladies that were on this part of the trip. We decided to visit a pottery studio in the afternoon. Google took us to the wrong place but the driver, patiently, worked the phone until he found where we really wanted to go. The potter was born in Bolivia but lived in the US for 22 years and was trained there. He gave us some background on the country and showed us around. He exports most of his work. His garden was delightful with flowering bushes and tile inlaid walks. We were all pretty tired from the 3 am arrival so we went back for a nap. That evening we walked to Etre Raices Bolivia which served huge quantities of traditional Bolivian food. There was no English on the menu or in the staff, which made ordering a challenge. With two beers it was $22 each, and we were glad we had to walk back to the hotel.
Thursday Ginny and I opted to go to the national archeological museum. La Paz has an extensive network of aerial gondolas for public transportation. The terrain is so steep subways would be impossible and busses creep along. With only one wrong turn, we reached the closest station. No one spoke English but I showed them where we wanted to go, and eventually, we successfully communicated. They even told us the stop to get off so we could walk downhill to the museum. Google needs to add this system to their maps. The museum occupied the first floor of a 300-year-old building and we were the only people there. While most of the signage was in Spanish, it was not that hard to follow. It told the story of the Tiwanaku civilization from 2000 BC to the 12 century. The Incas arose a couple of hundred years later. There were also some prehistoric exhibits that were nicely done. We later found out all the other museums in the city had closed because of the virus panic.
That afternoon we met our guide and walked around the neighborhood. The weather was pleasant but there was nothing interesting about the area. We did stop at a local coffee shop which was quite good and the conversations were far-ranging. Dinner that night was at the hotel. The food was good and the local Reisling was dry and crisp. Unfortunately, neither of us slept that well that night.
Friday we had a van tour of La Paz, unfortunately, the windows on the van were not that conducive to sightseeing, too low and wide stiles. The seats were great. The traffic in La Paz is a nightmare, slow and chaotic with pedestrians wandering everywhere. We took the gondola to the highest stop on the system, 14,385 feet. Even walking on level ground was exhausting. We walked around the main square to look at the cathedral and the government buildings. There was a press event for a young woman who was running for president. We toured some of the traditional markets which spilled out into the streets barely leaving a single lane for vehicles. After a lunch with a delicious soup and an inedible steak, we walked down Calle Jaen. This pedestrian street has the best-preserved colonial buildings in the city and four museums all of which were closed for the virus. That evening Ginny and I dined at Gustu, founded by the founder of Noma in Copenhagen (five times voted the best restaurant in the world). They only use local ingredients including the wines. The service was perfect and the food was sublime. Many of the ingredients we had never heard of but they were delicious. With wine, it was $29 each!!!!!. Lunch at Noma is $500.
Saturday we headed to the ruins of a Tiwanaku city. The city once had 40,000 and they are slowly trying to restore some of the temples. The civilization flourished from 600 BC and disappeared as a consequence of a major drought in the 12th century. Most of the artifacts were looted long ago and much of the stone was scavaged for subsequence buildings. We did get a feel for the scale and sophistication of the once city. After that, we drove north towards lake Titicaca. We took a wooden ferry, with an outboard motor, across the narrowest part of the lake and soon arrived at Copacabana, nothing like the one in Brazil. Our hotel, El Rosario, was right on the lake with an incredible view. The room was huge and filled with art, dinner of quinoa salad, steelhead trout, and cheesecake was excellent.
Sunday dawned sunny and beautiful. By the time we boarded our boat to sun island, it had started to drizzle. Fortunately, the drizzle stopped before we reached the island. The island has many Inca temples, which the Spanish had stripped. The island and the surrounding mainland were all terraced for farming by the Tiwanaku millenniums ago. We stopped and hiked up to a small temple which as mostly intact. The two younger women continued hiking over the top of the island to the spot here wee had lunch, Ginny and I took the boat. It was a tiny resort, four cabins, and lunch was local vegetables, fish from the lake, and amazing fritters. The local corn has huge kernels. The boat ride back, in the sunshine, was delightful. Then we visited the main square and the basilica with a small carved madonna. This is the major pilgrimage site in the Andes. The statue was so covered in doll clothes it was almost invisible, but the 20-foot high statue of the sculptor, outside the church, was more impressive. The square was crowded with vendors selling kitsch. We did try some popcorn from the local corn and the kernels were the size of ping pong balls. Dinner was slow-roasted llama leg. It had a nice sauce but not much flavor, they cook their meat until dead and then a few hours longer.
That evening we heard they were canceling the Macchu Pichu part of the trip. The next morning we were hustled out of bed and back to La Paz because all the rest of the trip was canceled. Soon we found out Peru had closed their borders and airports. By the time we reached La Paz there was a 3 pm curfew. They figured out we could fly to Santa Cruz and there was a cattle car flight (only one class) to Miami but not until Wednesday. We had a much-needed bottle of wine with dinner.
By the next morning, we had confirmed flights from Miami to home. We tried to visit a national park but it was closed. We drove around aimlessly for a bit and then stopped for lunch. The only person working at the restaurant had a face mask and latex gloves. We had 2 bottles of wine with dinner.
We got up at 3 am (midnight in Portland) and went to the airport with a box breakfast. The airport in La Paz was fine and they had a special line for old people which went quickly. In Santa Cruz we stood for an hour and a half, they manually searched each carry on for drugs, and we left an hour late. The plane was old but had lots of legroom, bad food, and no booze. It turned out to be the last flight out of the country as Bolivia closed their airports that night. In Miami, we walked and walked and walked. It wound up to be two miles from plane to plane. There was no medical screening whatsoever. They did not even pick up the form we had filled out. The mobile passport line only had 10 people in it but none of them were paying attention and I had to scream GO each time, to get the next person to go to the counter. When I picked up my bag, there was no customs to go thru but I had to drag it out and up and halfway across the terminal to United’s check-in. They did not want to see my ID when they checked the bag. The flight to San Francisco left on time, served a great lobster mac and cheese for dinner, and I had six glasses of wine before I went to sleep. I finally landed in Portland at 12:30 and was home by 1 am. I lost 10 pounds in nine days.