1. Witches market, La Paz 2. Jelly munching bowler-hatted lady 3. Government square, La Paz 4. Inca ruins, Isla del Sol 5. Mike chilling in a hammock at La CupulaThree things I didn´t imagine we´d be eating in Bolivia
- delicious melt-in-the-mouth sushi
- divine llama tikka masala
- crunchy guinea pig testicles in an alpaca-spittle jus
When we left Argentina Mike and I savoured our last meal, tucking into a big fat steak before we headed into the culinary wasteland of Bolivia - or so we thought. In fact, humongous steaks aside, I have to admit we found Argentinian food a little boring. From south to north the cuisine is the same. Steak, pasta, pizza, pasta, steak -none of it particularly well acquainted with pepper, salt or herbs, and in terms of vegetables, if it isn´t a potato, it´s about as welcome as a British Falklands War veteran.
La Paz on the other hand was a pleasant surprise. Spices, herbs, local variations. Hurray! We tucked in to everything in sight with gusto. Everything that is, except for the guinea pig testicles- I made that bit up.
We spent a few days in La Paz expanding back into our jeans and wandering the steep cobbled streets being bumped aside by wrinkled old ladies in bowler hats carrying enormous packs of... well we can´t say exactly as the mysterious contents are always snugly wrapped in a technicolour cloth. Suffice to say that each pack is roughly 185% bigger than the old lady herself. One afternoon we hung out in one of the main squares watching children feeding pigeons and old ladies eating jelly and counting the bullet holes in the parliament building.
Many people give the city a bad press, but we really can´t see why. It´s teeming with life and not of the tourist variety - the locals are fascinating, the buildings are deliciously decaying and the vistas knock your socks off. It´s also a city of oddities -where else in the world can you buy a mummified llama foetus for good luck or visit a museum dedicated to the coca leaf where you can chew some as you browse?
From La Paz we headed onwards and upwards to Lake Titicaca to stay at Copacabana. ´Enchanting´ says the Lonely Planet. Trawling the dusty streets, furnished with dour, unsmiling women and scabby dogs we couldn´t quite see what had ushered up that adjective. Then it became clear. We checked into the suite at La Cupula - panoramic views of the lake, a domed ceiling above the bed, a private rooftop glass sun lounge with a hammock and a restaurant serving up amazing food at Bolivian prices. Sitting at the next table, cosying up over dinner with the owner of the hotel, was the author of the Bolivian Lonely Planet. Copacabana could indeed be called enchanting if you view it from the luscious La Cupula.
From the harbour we hopped aboard the world´s slowest and most uncomfortable ferry to Isla del Sol - birthplace of the sun according to Inca legend. The sun chose well - it´s a sparkling gem of twinkling bays, terraced hills and meandering llamas. We sprinted along an Inca pathway, spectacularly carved along the backbone of the island, to meet the boat which had laboriously chugged its way down to meet us. A fabulous last day in Bolivia.
And so, on to Peru after the ups and downs (emotionally and geographically) of Bolivia. The thing we like best about the country was that we left with so many questions unanswered.
Why are the women´s hats too small for their heads?
What is the ´male itch´ which appears as an English translation on every menu?
Exactly how old are those women with more wrinkles than Grandma Simpson, and are those their children or grandchildren that they are lugging around?
And what is in those bundles?
- delicious melt-in-the-mouth sushi
- divine llama tikka masala
- crunchy guinea pig testicles in an alpaca-spittle jus
When we left Argentina Mike and I savoured our last meal, tucking into a big fat steak before we headed into the culinary wasteland of Bolivia - or so we thought. In fact, humongous steaks aside, I have to admit we found Argentinian food a little boring. From south to north the cuisine is the same. Steak, pasta, pizza, pasta, steak -none of it particularly well acquainted with pepper, salt or herbs, and in terms of vegetables, if it isn´t a potato, it´s about as welcome as a British Falklands War veteran.
La Paz on the other hand was a pleasant surprise. Spices, herbs, local variations. Hurray! We tucked in to everything in sight with gusto. Everything that is, except for the guinea pig testicles- I made that bit up.
We spent a few days in La Paz expanding back into our jeans and wandering the steep cobbled streets being bumped aside by wrinkled old ladies in bowler hats carrying enormous packs of... well we can´t say exactly as the mysterious contents are always snugly wrapped in a technicolour cloth. Suffice to say that each pack is roughly 185% bigger than the old lady herself. One afternoon we hung out in one of the main squares watching children feeding pigeons and old ladies eating jelly and counting the bullet holes in the parliament building.
Many people give the city a bad press, but we really can´t see why. It´s teeming with life and not of the tourist variety - the locals are fascinating, the buildings are deliciously decaying and the vistas knock your socks off. It´s also a city of oddities -where else in the world can you buy a mummified llama foetus for good luck or visit a museum dedicated to the coca leaf where you can chew some as you browse?
From La Paz we headed onwards and upwards to Lake Titicaca to stay at Copacabana. ´Enchanting´ says the Lonely Planet. Trawling the dusty streets, furnished with dour, unsmiling women and scabby dogs we couldn´t quite see what had ushered up that adjective. Then it became clear. We checked into the suite at La Cupula - panoramic views of the lake, a domed ceiling above the bed, a private rooftop glass sun lounge with a hammock and a restaurant serving up amazing food at Bolivian prices. Sitting at the next table, cosying up over dinner with the owner of the hotel, was the author of the Bolivian Lonely Planet. Copacabana could indeed be called enchanting if you view it from the luscious La Cupula.
From the harbour we hopped aboard the world´s slowest and most uncomfortable ferry to Isla del Sol - birthplace of the sun according to Inca legend. The sun chose well - it´s a sparkling gem of twinkling bays, terraced hills and meandering llamas. We sprinted along an Inca pathway, spectacularly carved along the backbone of the island, to meet the boat which had laboriously chugged its way down to meet us. A fabulous last day in Bolivia.
And so, on to Peru after the ups and downs (emotionally and geographically) of Bolivia. The thing we like best about the country was that we left with so many questions unanswered.
Why are the women´s hats too small for their heads?
What is the ´male itch´ which appears as an English translation on every menu?
Exactly how old are those women with more wrinkles than Grandma Simpson, and are those their children or grandchildren that they are lugging around?
And what is in those bundles?
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1 comment:
>> except for the guinea pig
>> testicles- I made that bit up.
Damn - I was looking forward to that meal review.
LOVE that pic in the hammock - what a place.
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