fossilized llama foetuses and crazy frenchies

i arrived in la paz after 18 hours in a chair that was NOT semi cama because i had indeed gotten the last seat out of santa cruz at the back of the bus, 18 hours of cut off leg circulation sitting next to a giant chiquitana with tiago crying, crying, crying. nice.

la paz is this crazy little hole of a city at the bottom of a sort of valley beneath snow capped mountain tops and shantytowns all around the downtown core. i think it´s a nice place, not as sketchy as lima, more hustle and bustle than santa cruz.

finding a hostel was not easy, tho.

i walked around for about 2 hours looking for a cheap hostel, it was all booked up full... being at almost 4000m after being at 1800m is quite a strain, so i went nuts after walking up and down and up and down and caved in for a room at 50 bolivianos which is cheap by our standards but expensive as fuck compared to my usual budget.

as i was walking to the hong kong pollos a la brasa place, three saltimbanco looking dudes were eyeing me up and down, one came to speak to me and for some reason i answered in french - turns out all three are french. we went for some lunch and some turkish coffee and went back to their hostel to drink a bit of rhum, while conversing it turns out that one of them knows bast and tom, what the fuck crazy world, so small.

so we´re probably going to go to iquitos together as the other two are going towards ecuador, and we´re both all gung ho on doing the ´huasca with the shaman in the jungle.

now we sit here with our bottle of rhum wondering what to do with ourselves in a city where civil dressed policemen ask you if you want cocaine and llama foetuses are sold on the street as talismans for luck.


bolivia really is a fucked up place, but i love it.

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